A/N: This prompt is ages old, but I wanted to keep hold of it and write it into a oneshot because I liked the idea. Enjoy! ^_^

Summary: (Do I really need one?) It’s nearly Dan’s birthday, and Phil wants to celebrate by making him a cake in a baking video. But will things go according to plan? Read on to find out more!

DISCLAIMER: Obviously (and unfortunately) everything I have written is entirely fictional.  am not claiming Phan is real.

PHIL’S POV:

“Dan, focus a little more… no- okay. Okay, that’s fine…” I directed him as he adjusted the lens on my camera, ready to film a video. I took a deep breath, before turning on my sweet, innocent ‘AmazingPhil’ personality for YouTube.

“Hey guys, so today, I’m back to test my baking skills! And because it’s nearly Dan’s birthday… BIRTHDAY DANCE!” I danced like an idiot for a few seconds, “I’ve decided to make…a cake!” I beckoned for Dan to join me in the shot.

“Hey internet!” Dan saluted as he slid in beside me.

“So, Daniel, what kind of cake are we making for this event?”

“A…nice one?!” He giggled cluelessly.

I chuckled. “Yeah, a nice one. But this isn’t just any nice cake- we’re going to be making… a Llama cake!”

Dan gasped, before swivelling over to the side out of shot, and returned with his llama hat. “Maaaahhh!”

“We need to get the ingredients!” I lowered my voice as he roamed around the kitchen looking for where he had misplaced the bag of shopping with everything we needed in it. It was a good job we could edit things like this out.

“Wow, what the fuck, Phil?! How many tubs of icing did we need?!” Dan exclaimed as he stripped off the Tesco plastic bag to reveal the many containers of icing I had bought earlier today.

“They were on offer, okay? Now get back in the shot.” I tugged his arm, as he carried our main ingredients into the camera.

“Now, to follow this immense Delia Smith recipe, what will we need, Daniel?” I turned to the brown haired boy, who started introducing everything we had bought.

“You will need- Four hundred grams of self-raising flour…” He held it up to the lens. “Mmm, flour perverts! Erm… four hundred grams of… caster sugar!”

“From the depths of the sugar kingdom.” I added.

“2 large eggs, hatched by a cat!”

He turned to me expectantly after he had more-or-less gone through every ingredient.

“Oh, and to decorate, we’re using… icing!” I held up the tub, as he also followed, and held up the other three. “Erm, we’ve bought slightly too much, so only one will do when you’re making yours!”

“Only slightly!” Dan scoffed jokingly, setting them down on the counter.

“Oh shut up, you!” I chuckled, giving him a playful shove. He pretended to bite me, before realizing we were in the middle of a video.

“So, let’s get baking!” We announced in unison, giving each other over-enthusiastic hi-fives again. “Ah-ow, shit, Phil! We need to learn from our mistakes!”

“You certainly do anyway, as I’m going to have to bleep that out now!” I responded jokingly. 

“Deal with it, you twat!” He winked, and I very nearly got completely distracted by his inappropriate winking habit. Shit, he was so-

Video. Concentrate on the video.

“So, what’s the first thing we need to do, Phil?”

“Well, Dan, I have a Delia Smith Cookbook here, which will tell us what to do!” 

“Delia knows best!”

We continued baking, very messily, until the mixture was finally in the oven.

“Now, as you can see, we’ve made such a horrific mess here, that instead of going on the internet, we’re actually going to have to CLEAN UP!” Dan talked into the camera in mock-horror.

“Yes, well, that was your fault wasn’t it? I wasn’t the one who smashed that egg on the floor!” 

“You jogged me!” Dan giggled, nudging my hip.

“Anyway, as this is going to take such a long time, we’ll speed it up for you, so you too, can laugh at our misfortunes.

We cleaned up as quickly as we could, occasionally commenting and giggling. I was half-thankful the fans wouldn’t see things like this in the finished video, as some of the things we were talking about in the video were not safely “Youtube” related.

“Okay, are we done now?” Dan asked, admiring the tabletops.

“Erm, yeah I guess.” I replied, reaching for the icing. “We need to mix this together, don’t we?”

“Wait until the cake’s done, first!” Dan laughed, glancing down at the oven. “Switch the camera off, and we’ll come back in like, half an hour?” 

“Okay, so we’re going to go wait for the cake now, which basically means lie on the floor contemplating the things we hate about the world!” Dan presented brightly.

“What he really means, is go on the internet and watch videos of cats!” I added, keeping up my fluffy kitten YouTube act on camera. 

“There.” Dan pressed the shutter button as our camera switched off. 

“Coffee?” I offered, making my way to the kettle.

“Yeah, thanks.” He replied, sitting himself down on one side of my sofa, taking his llama hat off.

“Here.” I handed him the steaming mug, sitting myself alongside him. My sofa was relatively small, resulting in us having to sit up close to each-other, although it definitely wasn’t something I would ever complain about. He was warm, anyway, which made a nice contrast to my permanently cold body. Anyone would’ve thought I was fucking Edward Cullen or something.

“God, Phil, you’re freezing!” Dan exclaimed, picking up my hand between his, and warming it up. The sensation of my skin pressed up against his heat was amazing, although I knew I couldn’t push it too far. He was only in University, 4 years younger than myself.

“Yeah, it’s cold outside, isn’t it?” 

“For June, I guess. Oh my god, Phil, I’m almost 20! I don’t want to be old. I want to stay young, and pretty.” He whined, resting his head against my shoulder.

“You already are pretty.” I commented, before I could stop myself.

Oh, shit.

He hesitated, before looking up into my eyes. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” I flushed bright red.

“You… you said I was pretty.” He giggled, also starting to blush noticeably.

“I- I was… how about we watch some TV?” I laughed nervously, reaching for the channel remote

“Oh.” He sounded somewhat disappointed, although I put it down to an overactive imagination. We stared blankly at an old episode of FRIENDS that came on TV, none of us really following the storyline. My attention was far too focused on something far more significant than what “Ugly Naked Guy” was doing tonight.

I noticed how Dan kept repeatedly checking the time on his phone, and anxiously running his hands through his hair, and after a 10 minutes had passed, I lightly questioned him about it.

“…You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I’m just.. wondering when the cake has to come out.”

I checked the time myself, before being met with the unmistakable slightly burning smell that followed from the kitchen.

“Er, I think we’ve left it in a bit too long!” I chuckled, jumping up from my seat and rushing to the kitchen. I pulled open the oven, and took the darkened cake out.

“Oh, well done Phil!” Dan exclaimed. 

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Well at least I reminded you about it, you klutz.” Dan muttered, although there was a smile growing on his face.

“Well, never mind. We’ll just cover it up with that!“ I replied, nodding over to the tubs.

“Okay, fine. Shall I turn on the camera now?” He glanced at the tripod.

“Erm, yeah, okay. We’ll have to explain this to them, though!”

“Should be fun.” He muttered, smirking as he pressed the shutter button and ran into the shot.

“Now, it’s finished, but we’ve had a little bit of an accident, and left it in for too long!” I held up the burnt tray to the camera, as Dan laughed softly from behind me.

“Yeah, well who’s fault was that, Phil?” 

“Not mine!” I retaliated quickly, earning a playful scowl from Dan. 

“Anyway, after you have successfully, or miserably failed to bake your cake, in this case we have miserably failed…“ He indicated to the slightly burnt llama-shaped sponge lying on the counter. “It’s time to ice this bitch!” He jumped up enthusiastically, reaching for the icing, and begun mixing it in front of the lens.

“Now, as we don’t have fancy icing pallets because we’re bloody peasants, you can just use a normal icing bag from your local Shmasda.” He held up the icing bag, pouring in his icing creation. 

“I feel like we’re welding something.” I commented, watching as it fell in blobs into the bag.

“Creating Frankencake. Or Frankenllama.” He muttered, concentrating. 

“Okay, do you think that’s good enough, Phil?” He asked, after he had finished.

“I do indeed, Daniel. Now, come on and ice it!” I pushed the cake out onto a plate as he began squirting wobbly amounts of the icing concoction onto the sponge. 

“Careful!” I exclaimed. “You nearly got that on me, then!”

“I am being careful!” He continued, before losing his concentration and slipping, leaving a blob of icing on my hand.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done!” I held up my hand to the camera. “That’s DAN’S fault!”

“Oh, come on, it’s just a bit of icing!” He giggled, as I grabbed an icing bag and began loading it with the extra tub. 

“Oh, just a bit is it?” I repeated, before distributing a small amount onto my finger, and blobbed it onto his nose. I had to admit, for the split second I glanced over, he did look very cute with it on his nose, his laugh accompanied by his signature dimples.

“Yes, a BIT!” He repeated my actions, although my nose now held a much larger amount of icing than he did. 

“Right, that’s it!” I took the nozzle, and squeezed it near his face, leaving behind a snake of icing around his cheeks, and dimples.

“PHIL!!!” He shrieked, and grabbed his nozzle, squeezing large amounts of icing in my direction, some hitting me straight in the face. I retaliated, although some landed near his lips, and he began licking it off.

“Ew!” I laughed.

“Mmh, it tastes really good!” 

“Why not have some more, then?” I took a step forward, giggling nervously. So did he. We continued until we were more or less inches apart from each other, which was when the giggling slowly stopped. I squirted icing onto my finger, and stroked it across his soft, plump lips, keeping intense eye contact. It was almost sensual, although we were just friends. Only… friends…

He stared into my eyes, brown against blue, as he raised an eyebrow. His small, pink tongue poked out from between his lips as he licked a small amount off, and it only occurred to me how much we had actually fought with. 

“Delicious.” He whispered, as I found ourselves gradually becoming closer and closer, until our chests were basically touching. I could feel the sparks of electricity between us, and I still hadn’t got my head around what was actually happening. Maybe I didn’t need to. Maybe I didn’t care. 

He bit down on his lip, his eyes glued to mine, as he took a deep breath. 

“Do you want to try some, Phil?” His voice was low, and gravely. 

I stared down at his slightly parted lips. Did he mean…?

I nodded slowly, but eagerly. Dan grabbed the icing bag, squeezing it onto his finger, and gliding it across my own lips. I gasped at the sensation of the heat of his skin against mine. Very gradually, I poked out my own tongue, and instead of bringing it down to the icing on my own lips, I leant in, pressing my tongue against his lower lip, and gently licking the icing up with the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. He drew in breath, pulling me in closer.

“Do it again.” He ordered huskily. This time, I put much more force into this half-kiss, as he reciprocated, and I felt his tongue escape his mouth and lick up the remaining icing off my softening lips, before I let his tongue enter my own mouth, as we fought for dominance.

I won. Without breaking the kiss, I grabbed the icing bag, and pressed an amount onto Dan’s neck. Working my way down, I began sucking and gently nibbling at the sensitive skin, leaving behind small purple marks against the tan from the Italian sun. The kiss heated up as my hands slowly worked their way down past his belt, and I began to palm him through his tight denim fabric.

“Phil…” Dan let out a throaty moan, his hands exploring under my shirt in his attempt to pull it off.

“Come on.” I broke the kiss, both of us sweaty and breathless, and tugged him towards the bedroom.

Dan froze, his stare fixed straight ahead in horror.

“What?” I questioned his sudden change in mood.

“P-Phil…” He stuttered semi-seriously, as he pointed straight ahead to the camera, that had been filming us. The entire time.

“I think we might need to cut this out!”