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Description
Canvas

Genre/Tags: AU, Fluff, Tattooed!Phil/Punk!Phil, Strangers to friends
Warnings: None
Word Count: 694
Summary: Dan admires the ink on Phil's canvas.
(This has been edited since first published)

Many would stare at the tattooed boy who lived down the street. Stare in shock, stare in disappointment, stare in awe, and stare because he was the only thing interesting to look at in that boring town. His skin was covered in small doodles of lions and galaxies and swirls (and Dan swore he once saw a sketch of the Muse logo on Phil's torso after catching him stretching and seeing his t-shirt riding up slightly). He loved each and every one, mostly littered up and down his arms and across his torso (he assumed he had more). He had one full sleeve, and was close to finishing the other. Phil, his name was. Everyone in the town knew of him because of the ink that etched his skin.

But, he didn't care what the neighbours thought of his appearance; he liked it and that's what mattered to him.

"But what does his mother think?"
"I wouldn't let my child walk around like that."
"They are silly things that he will regret when he is older."
"What will he look like when he's older?"

Though Phil still didn't seem to bat an eyelid to those remarks. Dan admired his confidence and his ability to not mind what others thought. He longed for tattoos and piercings, much like the other male's. The only thing stopping him was his insecurities, and his strict parents. He knew they weren't highly approving of the boy's looks, their comments matching the other's of the town. Dan loved the colourful canvas the boy had become, and longed to be the one who could admire it everyday. He was beautiful.
The unrequited love for this boy was unbearable to Dan. Every time he walked past, Dan lost the ability to speak. His mouth would open and close like a goldfish, and his legs would turn to jelly. He was head over heels for this boy, who barely knew his name let alone the fact he was most likely the only one who appreciated his appearance.

That soon changed. Dan turned eighteen, and made his way to the nearest tattoo parlour (it was situated outside the town and was Phil's regular, he assumed). He had decided to just go for it and get a tattoo. If Phil could walk around with every inch inked, then he could walk around with a small line of planets and stars across his wrist. He braved through it, only a few tears down his cheeks, and it was so worth it when it was finished. He couldn't stop staring at it, it didn't seem real to him.

It was one early morning, and Dan was working his normal shift in the town cafe when Phil walked in. Dan could feel the inevitable blush creeping on his cheeks (every time he laid eyes on him, he blushed like a little school girl) as he watched the male walk towards the counter, wallet in hand. He gave Dan a small smile, and Dan wanted to burst. He ordered a latte, and left the correct amount of coins on the counter before waiting. Once it was finished, Dan handed it over to him in a take away cup and as Phil reached to take it, he noticed the little doodles across his wrist.
"Wow," he said. "That's so cool."
This comment caused Dan's cheeks to turn scarlet, "th-thanks.." he managed to get out.

Phil smiled at him, this one more genuine and friendly than the one previous. He took his coffee and left, leaving behind a giggly, blushy Daniel who had turned to see his friend winking at him. He looked down at his tattoo, and ran his finger over it gently. Perhaps he should consider another tattoo in the future, become a new tattooed talk of the town. It was worth it, it seemed. He had caught the attention of his crush, and he had recently started to feel more alive than he had ever done before, a newfound confidence had built up inside of him. All because of some ink to his canvas.
All because of some boy who now finally knew of his existence.

Description
Canvas

Genre/Tags: AU, Fluff, Tattooed!Phil/Punk!Phil, Strangers to friends
Warnings: None
Word Count: 694
Summary: Dan admires the ink on Phil's canvas.
(This has been edited since first published)

Many would stare at the tattooed boy who lived down the street. Stare in shock, stare in disappointment, stare in awe, and stare because he was the only thing interesting to look at in that boring town. His skin was covered in small doodles of lions and galaxies and swirls (and Dan swore he once saw a sketch of the Muse logo on Phil's torso after catching him stretching and seeing his t-shirt riding up slightly). He loved each and every one, mostly littered up and down his arms and across his torso (he assumed he had more). He had one full sleeve, and was close to finishing the other. Phil, his name was. Everyone in the town knew of him because of the ink that etched his skin.

But, he didn't care what the neighbours thought of his appearance; he liked it and that's what mattered to him.

"But what does his mother think?"
"I wouldn't let my child walk around like that."
"They are silly things that he will regret when he is older."
"What will he look like when he's older?"

Though Phil still didn't seem to bat an eyelid to those remarks. Dan admired his confidence and his ability to not mind what others thought. He longed for tattoos and piercings, much like the other male's. The only thing stopping him was his insecurities, and his strict parents. He knew they weren't highly approving of the boy's looks, their comments matching the other's of the town. Dan loved the colourful canvas the boy had become, and longed to be the one who could admire it everyday. He was beautiful.
The unrequited love for this boy was unbearable to Dan. Every time he walked past, Dan lost the ability to speak. His mouth would open and close like a goldfish, and his legs would turn to jelly. He was head over heels for this boy, who barely knew his name let alone the fact he was most likely the only one who appreciated his appearance.

That soon changed. Dan turned eighteen, and made his way to the nearest tattoo parlour (it was situated outside the town and was Phil's regular, he assumed). He had decided to just go for it and get a tattoo. If Phil could walk around with every inch inked, then he could walk around with a small line of planets and stars across his wrist. He braved through it, only a few tears down his cheeks, and it was so worth it when it was finished. He couldn't stop staring at it, it didn't seem real to him.

It was one early morning, and Dan was working his normal shift in the town cafe when Phil walked in. Dan could feel the inevitable blush creeping on his cheeks (every time he laid eyes on him, he blushed like a little school girl) as he watched the male walk towards the counter, wallet in hand. He gave Dan a small smile, and Dan wanted to burst. He ordered a latte, and left the correct amount of coins on the counter before waiting. Once it was finished, Dan handed it over to him in a take away cup and as Phil reached to take it, he noticed the little doodles across his wrist.
"Wow," he said. "That's so cool."
This comment caused Dan's cheeks to turn scarlet, "th-thanks.." he managed to get out.

Phil smiled at him, this one more genuine and friendly than the one previous. He took his coffee and left, leaving behind a giggly, blushy Daniel who had turned to see his friend winking at him. He looked down at his tattoo, and ran his finger over it gently. Perhaps he should consider another tattoo in the future, become a new tattooed talk of the town. It was worth it, it seemed. He had caught the attention of his crush, and he had recently started to feel more alive than he had ever done before, a newfound confidence had built up inside of him. All because of some ink to his canvas.
All because of some boy who now finally knew of his existence.