#fic: in the name of love (and parental authority infringement) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kuriquinn · 7 years ago

Text

Not Too Late

Summary: Sasuke is friendly with her – a friendliness that is simultaneously a relief and torture. Their friendship is as it always was, but she finds she is no longer satisfied by that. [SasuSakuMonth2017 – Day 2– Prompt: “Something More”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be thrown into a pond if you are found plagiarizing.

Warning(s): Road To Ninja OCness for the characters. So flirty, dreamboat Sasuke and emotionally stunted Sakura :P

Fanon Compliance: Takes place several years after The Flip Side

AN: Again, sorry for the lateness, unpacking is kicking my ass. But I now can see my kitchen table, so yay for small victories! Editing will be done at a later date.

This fic was inspired by Anne of the Island by LM Montgomery (my favourite author growing up!). For some reason, the scene where Anne finally figures out how she feels about Gilbert struck me as being a believable way for RTN Sakura to figure out she’s in love with Charasuke.

The clouds are rolling in, threatening a late summer storm, when Sakura finally sets foot through Konoha’s giant gates. Weary and covered in road dust, she waves at Izumo and Kotetsu, before beginning the long trudge into the centre of the village.

She’s been away for almost a month, teaching a series of seminars on antidotes throughout the five shinobi countries. As the foremost medic in Konoha (after Lady Tsunade, of course, though the Hokage is too busy running the village to make many trips these days), Sakura is in high demand for her poison expertise and field training. Although she’s proud of her skills, and the networking will be a step up when it comes time to put forth her candidacy for Hokage, she can’t help feel exhausted.

This trip felt longer and more stressful – possibly because it’s the first one she’s undertaken alone. Her former teammates are so busy these days with their own pursuits. Menma is often away on missions with ANBU – although he’s sworn to secrecy on the matter, she’s pretty sure that he’s the new ANBU commander – and Kakashi is inspiring the next generation of shinobi at the Academy. As for Sasuke, he’s been taking on more responsibility within Konoha’s military police and among his clan, and so rarely has time to spare.

He doesn’t even have the time to flirt anymore, she thinks with grim humour as she passes by the Uchiha district.

It’s quieter than usual, she notices a beat later; most days it’s bustling with activity even late into the night.

The Uchiha are one of the oldest and most respected clans in Konoha, after all, and are usually at the centre of every village tradition and activity. The atmosphere here was always such a stark contrast to her own quiet upbringing – even more so after her parent’s deaths.

Whenever she and Menma used to come here as genin to pick up Sasuke or visit him on their days off, they always ended up running into someone who needed help around the house or with their chores. His older cousins would tease him good-naturedly, and his little cousins would take along with them, in awe of their status as ninja (even if they were only genin at the time).

Sasuke would complain about it, but both Sakura and Menma could always tell that he secretly loved it. He liked people relying on him, would go out of his way to help his older aunts and uncles, and even got his teammates to help him tend to his mother’s garden.

He was even more dedicated in the years after his brother left.

He’s a good guy, that wheedling voice at the back of Sakura’s head reminds her. He’ll make someone a good partner one day.

But she shrugs away that thought, because she’s made her feelings on that particular subject very clear – both to Sasuke and herself.

Being Hokage is an important job, and demands a lot – she’s seen as much with Tsunade; there’s no way she can dedicate herself to that and a family. Besides, as Hokage she might one day end up in the same position as her parents and have to sacrifice herself for the village. The idea of leaving her child or children to grow up orphaned haunts her; she knows from experience there’s no fate worse.

Besides, there will be no shortage of children to look after in the village, especially with all of her agemates pairing off and starting families.

Ino is engaged to a civilian art expert named Kyoya, and somehow Shikamaru managed to charm the Kazekage’s painfully shy sister over the course of the past few chuunin exams. There’s to be a state wedding in Suna next month before Temari officially relocates to Konoha. Choji just recently returned from a trip to Kumo, a soft-spoken bride in tow – apparently, he didn’t want to deal with the fuss of a big wedding.

And then, of course, there’s Menma.

Sakura recalls how a few months ago, Hinata stalked across the town square and flat-out told him they were getting married. And then he sighed, like it was a huge imposition, but accepted.

It should have been the most painful moment of her life, but all Sakura could feel was happy for her friend. She has long-since grown out of her one-sided crush with the Uzumaki boy (and doesn’t it gnaw at her that Sasuke accurately predicted that!), and despite Hinata’s overbearing nature, they’ve developed a mutual respect.

I guess it’s true that they say – that people change, she muses as she leaves the Uchiha district in her wake.

She considers whether she ought to stop at the Hokage Tower first, or home, and decides on the latter. Her mission wasn’t an urgent one, so there’s no need tor report in immediately. Besides, Suna’s desert is still clinging to her skin and her hair feels stiff with sweat. She needs to bathe before she can in good conscience enter the Hokage’s presence.

ロードトウニンジャ

Sakura takes her time once she’s home, enjoying a long shower and the feel of clean clothes on her skin. She even takes a short nap before heading out into the village; there’s no food in the house, and she doesn’t feel like getting groceries this evening.

As usual she heads for the Yakiniku Q, expecting to have a nice meal and perhaps some conversation. There’s always someone around to chat with – one of the double-edged perks of being the child of heroes, she supposes.

When she arrives, she sees a table at the back where a few of her friends are sitting quietly. It’s another oddity – usually her friends are the loudest in the room – but she chalks it up to the lateness of the day.

“Sakura!” Ino gasps when she sees her. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago,” she replies, sliding into an empty space. “Have you all ordered yet?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hinata sneers. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”

“I’m not due to start any shifts for another day or two,” Sakura replies, frowning at the animosity. Hinata is never pleasant per se, but she’s stopped being so confrontational since her engagement.

“You…have you spoken to anyone else since you’ve been back?” Neji asks, eyes shifting to Tenten, who shakes her head incrementally.

“No, I haven’t,” Sakura says slowly. “Guys, what’s going on? Why are you all acting so…suspicious?”

“If anyone’s acting suspicious, it’d be you,” Hinata returns. “Then again, maybe it’s just who you are. I knew you were cold, but I’d think you’d be a little more upset that your fall-back guy is dying.”

“Hinata!” Tenten objects, eyes flitting anxiously to Sakura.

It takes about ten seconds for her to understand who exactly the Hyūga heiress is talking about, and five more before the meaning behind her words sink in. Once they do, she can only stare at the pale-eyed girl in disbelief.

“What?” she echoes faintly, feeling the blood drain from her cheeks so fast that she feels dizzy.

“Shut up, Hinata,” Ino says with uncharacteristic sharpness. She regards Sakura with the air of someone preparing to diffuse an explosive tag. “Sakura, don’t look like that, it’s – Sakura, do you hear me?!”

“You shouldn’t have told her so suddenly, Neji chides his cousin, who crosses her arms unrepentantly.

“She’s strong enough to take it. You beating around the bush wasn’t doing her any favours.”

“Is it…is it true?” Sakura asks her best friend in a voice that doesn’t sound like hers. “Is Sasuke…?”

“He’s very ill,” Ino confirms gravely. “He got sick about a day or so after you left on your mission.”

Almost a month ago!

“I’m surprised Lady Tsunade didn’t mention it to you when you got back,” Neji remarks.

“I…I just went straight home,” Sakura explains faintly. Her decision to luxuriate in the shower and nap suddenly seem ridiculous and selfish in the face of this new reality. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know,” Ino says. “Whatever it is, it’s bad enough that his parents brought him to the hospital. The healers don’t – Sakura, please don’t make that face!” Because if the Uchiha, who tend to have their own private family healers see to their needs, brought Sasuke to the hospital, it has to be serious. “He’s strong – you know how strong Sasuke is. He’ll pull through.”

“Shizune was here earlier and she figures there’s no hope,” Hinata remarks, taking a sip of sake.

Ino’s jaw sets, and in a move that is utterly uncharacteristic of her, she promptly marches the Hyūga girl away before Sakura throws a punch at her.

Not that she is at all in the mind frame to do so, because she is still struggling to make sense of what all this means.

“Don’t worry, Sakura,” Neji tells her, resting comforting hand on her shoulder. “Sasuke is Uchiha. They have strong constitutions. I have no doubt that he will pull through.”

But she doesn’t miss the slight waver in his voice, as if he isn’t sure what he’s saying is completely true.

Numb, Sakura shrugs off his hand and stands to leave. She barely hears her friends worriedly call her name as she steps out into the street, staring unseeingly ahead of herself.

The rain has started in earnest since she went inside and now beats down in sheets. Passersby sprint through the road, trying to find shelter, but she barely feels the water on her skin. The air throbs with energy, vibrating with the thunder, and three blocks away, Sasuke Uchiha lies dying.

“Don’t be such an idiot.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“If you spent as much time on your jutsus as you do on flirting, you’d be better than Menma.”

“Why would I go on a date with you, you playboy?”

She remembers every single time she told him to leave her alone, or wished he would move on and get out of her life. Now that he might just do that, Sakura realises that it would be like cutting out a vital organ.

She begins to run.

ロードトウニンジャ

“What’s wrong with him?” Sakura demands as she bursts into the Critical Care ward, not bothering with a greeting.

“S-Sakura-sensei, you’re not supposed to –!”

“Symptoms, Ando, or don’t bother speaking,” she barks.

“P-patient presented with…with shortness of breath and coughing,” her intern stammers. “Within a day it transitioned into full-fledged hemoptysis, resulting in the family admitting him to Critical Care. He’s required constant monitoring and daily healing sessions to keep his lungs clear.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m really not supposed to –”

“Then don’t – pass me his chart! He’s dying and you’re wasting my time with red tape!” she snarls, grabbing the clipboard from the flustered teenager and storming down the hallway to the wing where the patients dying of terminal diseases are housed.

The fact that Sasuke has been placed there makes her want to vomit.

Upon turning the corner, she finds her way blocked by two familiar figures. Kakashi and Menma are like two pillars against the doors, both of them looking a little pale as she marches toward them.

“You can’t go in there, Sakura,” Kakashi tells her as she gets within arms reach; his usual exuberance has disappeared, replaced with a sombreness that matches Gai’s.

“The hell I can’t,” she growls. “Move before I make you move.”

“It’s Lady Tsunade’s orders,” Menma tells her. “You’re not permitted to treat a loved one, Sakura, you know that. It’s hospital policy and standard in the four laws of medical ninjutsu.”

“I am the student of the Sannin Tsunade,” Sakura bites out, thumbing at the seal on her forehead, “and I am exempt from those laws.”

“Not today, you aren’t,” Menma maintains. “If you step foot in that ward, Tsunade will stop treating him and restrain you herself. Are you willing to gamble with your friend’s life just to feel useful?”

His words cut a chink into the desperate fury that has been driving her since she left the restaurant.

Under the empathetic eyes of her friends, Sakura is forced to make a difficult decision: either stay here, useless, and let Tsunade do her best to heal Sasuke, or kick up a fuss and delay him getting the treatment he deserves.

She swallows a painful lump in her throat.

It’s really no choice at all.

Her shoulders slump and she lets Kakashi guide her out of the Critical Care ward and into the general waiting room.

She spends the rest of the night pacing every other hallways and demanding news from the nurses, until Lady Tsunade sends Shizune out and tells her she will be drugged and sent home if she doesn’t stop. After that she adopts a lone window that looks out onto the Critical Care ward across the courtyard and waits, trying not to imagine the horrors that could be happening over there right then.

That Sasuke’s died, or that the damage to his body is irreversible.

Her vigil lasts the night, through hours of the storm raging outside and the darkness that threatens to consume her. Kakashi and Menma come and go in the background, trying to tempt her to go home and sleep or eat something, but she ignores them, refusing to acknowledge anyone unless it’s someone with news of Sasuke.

Because Sakura has come to a bitter, belated revelation: that she is in love with Sasuke Uchiha. That she has always been in love with him, and she knows that now.

Her knowledge comes too late, because now she might not even get the chance to tell him. She has been so blind and foolish, so focussed on becoming something worth her deceased parents’ pride and trying to impress the one man who would never see her as more than a sister that she wasted their time.

Tsunade is right: Sakura shouldn’t be anywhere near him right now. She doesn’t deserve to be near him.

But…but if he dies…he’ll go without ever knowing how I feel. He’ll die thinking I don’t return his feelings and then…

And then she’ll be left without him.

Instantly, Sakura can see it – years and years of emptiness stretching out in front of her, all of her other dreams and ambitions fulfilled, but pale and colourless shadows of what she hoped for. Hollow, because there will be no one to share it with.

She presses her head against the cool window, feeling the vibrations of the raindrops on the other side of the pane, and for the first time since she lost her parents, she wishes she could die too. If Sasuke leaves her, if he dies without a word or sign or message between them, she won’t make it. Nothing has any value without him.

She belongs to him and he to her, and he’s always known that and she always insisted it wasn’t true.

The storm rages all the rest of the night and into the morning, the winds and thunder seeming to keep time with her pacing. Only as the heavy raindrops fade away and Sakura can’t take one more moment of sitting uselessly in the waiting room does she hail one of the nurses.

“Have you heard anything about Sasuke Uchiha this morning?” she asks, forcing her voice to remain steady and professional.

Under normal circumstances the staff aren’t allowed to share information with anyone that isn’t family, but everyone here knows Sakura and her desperation is clear on her face.

“The last I heard, he’s better,” the nurse says. “Lady Tsunade pulled him through the worst of it about half an hour ago. I heard her tell Lady Shizune that he’s going to make a full recovery.”

“And they’ve…they’ve figured out what was wrong with him?”

“Yes. Some underlying genetic condition, I believe. Once Lady Tsunade figured it out, she was able to heal the cause – oh! Lady Sakura, what’s wrong?”

Stunned and thankful, Sakura has burst into relieved tears and flees the hospital.

ロードトウニンジャ

In the wake of Sasuke’s recovery, Sakura avoids going to see him.

Menma and Kakashi press her on it, but she can’t properly explain to them what the problem is; eventually they give up trying, but she sees their judgemental looks and knows she deserves them.

How is she supposed to explain that she’s afraid to face Sasuke? His family were by his side through his sickness, while she was off pursuing her own interests for a month. No one thought to inform her of his condition, because she made it utterly clear how she felt – or didn’t feel – about him, and it was only when he was dying that she let go of her stubbornness and accepted her feelings for him.

That after everything, she hardly deserves to be his friend, let alone to love him. Even if she still has his friendship, she has no idea what to say.

The self-flagellation continues unendingly for a while, even days after Sasuke is up and about. Hinata holds a party one night to celebrate his recovery (and also to apologise for her lack of tact when she told Sakura about it), and they run into each other there. They make easy conversation, exchange pleasantries and then Sakura makes an excuse that she has to work.

For the first time in their lives, Sasuke doesn’t bother to flirt with her, and she tosses and turns in bed that night thinking what that means.

A week later he comes to see her at the hospital.

“There’s a familiar sight,” he remarks, taking note of her hunched over several charts.

Sakura jumps and stares up at him, her cheeks warming both at the sight of him and being caught unawares. “S-Sasuke! What are you doing here?”

“My final check-up was today,” he says, speaking to her in the same easy tone as he always did. “As soon as I get the okay, I’m headed to the training grounds.” He pauses, and then with the same comradely grin as always, suggests, “You want to come along? It’s been a while since we sparred, and I think Menma’s picking out china patterns or something.”

Sakura looks at him rather blankly.

“I wish I could,” she says slowly, “but I can’t. There’s a viral epidemic two towns over, and Lady Tsunade has me watching vaccine samples all night. There’s no way I can get away.” She bites her lips and offers him an apologetic glance beneath her lashes. “I’m really sorry. I’d actually love to go with you.”

“What about tomorrow afternoon then, after you’ve gotten some sleep?” Sasuke asks, apparently not put-off by her refusal.

There’s a beat of hesitation, but Sakura musters a smile. “That works for me.”

Their eyes meet for a beat longer, and then she looks away.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, then,” Sasuke states. He pauses, and then adds, “Don’t work too hard tonight, or you’ll be too tired.”

He leaves before she can think of a response.

Sakura looks after him as he goes away and sighs, throwing down her pen.

Sasuke is friendly with her – a friendliness that is simultaneously a relief and torture. Their friendship is as it always was, but she finds she is no longer satisfied by that.

She wants more than his friendship, but also more than the cheap rose of a momentary fling. Without his usual one-liners or appraising looks, she can’t tell if he’s finally moved on or is just better at hiding it. She worries that maybe he no longer feels anything for but friendship, and wonders if all her years of rejecting him have finally taken.

Sakura groans and presses her palms to her eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” she says out loud to now one. Within barely a fortnight, true love has reduced to one of those insecure girls that obsesses over a man. “I’m not doing this. I just need to…to get over it.”

If Sasuke can apparently get over her so easily, she’ll figure out how to do the same. By throwing herself into her work, if she has to. Success and ambition will have to take the place of love, and she tries to comfort herself by the fact that she’ll do great, noble work as Hokage one day, especially without having to worry about her own heart.

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t believe herself.

ロードトウニンジャ

When Sasuke comes to pick her up from her house the next afternoon, she takes more care than she ever has with her appearance. She knows they’re only going to train, but something in her wants him to notice her as a woman – perhaps flirt with her the way he used to.

They take the long way to the training grounds, passing through the forested paths where the trees are just beginning to change their colours.

“It’s been a while since I came this way,” Sakura says, only to fill the silence between them that falls just short of companionable.

“Me too,” Sasuke says. “I think I only ever used this way because it took longer to get to the training grounds.”

“And we still always got there before Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura agrees. “Because he always had some kind of life-or-death competition with Gai-sensei that he had to finish before training.”

“Remember our first battle as a team?”

“Yes! You passed out, I got thrown into the pond and Menma ended up buried up to his head in the ground.”

“That was still less embarrassing than having to introduce ourselves,” he says.

“That’s right! You talked for ten minutes straight about your tomato garden and how much you liked salad!”

“And Menma had that huge speech about how it was his duty to repopulate the Uzumaki clan throughout the five shinobi nations,” Sasuke remembers, shuddering. “And then Kakashi figured that was a prime teaching opportunity and gave us the sex-talk.”

“That was mortifying!”

“Speak for yourself, you didn’t have him follow you home to assure your parents that he had “dutifully ensured their son would be responsible in all matters of a sexual nature”,” Sasuke says, rolling his eyes. Then he winces and says, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…it’s alright.”

They are quiet again.

“You were always so strong in the face of that,” Sasuke says after a while. “I don’t even know what I would do without my family, but you…it just made you stronger. Even back then, you dreamed of becoming Hokage to make them proud or die trying.”

“Well…that last part of the dream has changed,” she says lightly. “Most dreams do, over time.”

“And some don’t,” he says seriously, something resolute entering his voice. He stops walking, and Sakura is forced to do the same, staring up at him in surprise. “Things haven’t changed for me – not really. There’s something – someone – I’ve always wanted, even from back then. Maybe it was always a dream, but I’m going to keep wanting it, even if it can’t come true.”

Sakura opens her mouth to speak, but the words get stuck somewhere in her throat. It’s as if she’s been struck dumb with disbelief and a mounting terror that if she speaks she’ll break the spell of what’s happening.

“I want my family to be whole,” Sasuke continues. “I want my brother back. I want my parents to grow old surrounded by grandchildren. I want my wife to be the woman I love until I die.” He peers at her intently. “In that dream, my wife is you.” Sakura barely has a chance to acknowledge the burgeoning feeling of happiness, when he takes her hands in his. “I know I said I’d wait for you, but I’ve been thinking it over. And perhaps it’s not waiting that’s the problem. Perhaps I’ve been asking you the wrong thing all these years. I’ve been asking you out on dates, when I should have been asking you to marry me.”

Marry?!

“And so…” he takes a deep breath, vulnerability crossing his features for the first time since he started speaking, “if I ask you differently today – if I ask you if you want to spend the rest of our lives together – will you give me a different answer?”

She still can’t speak – her brain is stubbornly stalled somewhere around the word ‘love’. Instead, she lifts her eyes and gazes into his for a long moment, trying to convey her answer - nstead, she lifts her eyes and gazes into his for a long moment, trying to convey her answer – yes, yes! A million times yes, you annoying man! – and he seems to understand, because he breaks into a breathtaking smile.

And then she can’t to much else but grab him by the lapels of his shirt and drag his lips down to her own.

He makes a noise of surprise, but a beat later realises what’s happening, and then his arms are around her, pulling her in closer to him. His mouth is unexpectedly soft against her own, but it becomes harder and more demanding as the kiss deepens.

Eventually they pull away from each other, and Sasuke stares down at her, breathless.

“Is that a ‘yes’?’ he pants.

“It’s an ‘I love you’, you annoying man.”

His eyes soften. “I love you.”

She blushes and hides her face in his chest.

“I don’t understand how you could keep loving me after all this time when I’ve been such an idiot,” she says, hoping that her words are lost in the fabric of his shirt.

“I tried to stop,” he says, causing her to pull away and stare up at him in anguish. “Not because you’re an idiot – you’re not – but because it’s hard to compete with someone like Menma.”

“You’ve competed with him your whole life.”

“Yeah, on arenas where we were evenly matched. When it came to your affections, he already had them without even trying.”

“I got over Menma.”

“I know that. But I still figured I needed to give you time after he and Hinata became engaged. He was your first love, after all. If I approached you right after, it would have felt like I was rubbing it in your face,” he explains reasonably. “And I…didn’t want to be your rebound.”

“You are not my rebound,” she tells him fiercely. “And Menma was no my first love.”

He cocks his head to one-side, inquisitive.

“You were,” she says, looking away and feeling her cheeks redden. “But then one day you showed up and started handing out roses to every pretty girl within a ten foot radius and I decided I didn’t want to be just another one of your admirers.”

He stares.

“Sakura, that was before we were genin even. You already…?”

She crosses her arms, defensive, cheeks red.

To her surprise, Sasuke groans and slaps himself in the forehead. “I’m a moron.”

“A bit, yeah.”

“And here I though I needed to do something dramatic like almost die to get you to accept your feelings for me, when you already had them!”

Sakura shudders.

“Don’t joke about that,” she begs, “It’s too soon.”

Sasuke sobers. “When I was sick, Tsunade told me about how you reacted. She said you almost took out Kakashi and Menma to get to me. You’d be amazed how determined I was to get better after that.”

She smiles wanly at that and shivers.

“I’ll never forget thinking you were going to die,” she whispers. “I knew right then. It was like the world shifted. I knew and…and I thought it was too late. I thought I would lose you and have to pay for my mistake by being alone forever.”

Sasuke’s eyes soften and he pulls her close, cradling her protectively in his arms. They stand like that for longer than Sakura knows, though she doesn’t care. If he wanted to stay like this forever, she would agree without hesitation.

Except he doesn’t, because he pulls away.

“Let’s make an agreement,” he suggests. “No more waiting.”

“huh?”

“We’ll tell my parents tonight and get married as soon as we can find someone to perform the ceremony,” he goes on. “And you’ll move in with me and my family, and then you’ll never have to be alone again.”

“Move in with your…Sasuke…that’s a bit…soon,” she protests weakly. “Besides, what if they’re no…alright with…with me?”

“You know my mother loves you. And my father respects you, which he’d say is more important than liking you, but he’ll learn to. If by some fluke they disapprove, we’ll just elope.”

“They’ll disown you!”

“So what? That just means they’ll have two disowned sons. It might give them the motivation they need to accept Itachi back home,” he snorts.

“Sasuke!”

“Besides, it’s occurred to me that there’s never been an Uchiha Hokage,” he continues with the air of someone musing one of life’s greatest mysteries. “No one in my family will have a problem with my wife once you succeeds Tsunade.”

Sakura blushes darkly. “I haven’t even officially said ‘yes’ yet.”

Something dark enters Sasuke’s eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to keep convincing you then,” he tells her, and then his lips are on hers again.

She decides she likes his form of persuasion.

終わり

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#ssm17 #ssm17d2 #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku #rating: teen #sasuke uchiha #charasuke #sakura haruno #rtn sakura #something more #drama #romance #angst #kuriquinn

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worksofphiction · 7 years ago

Note

(leprompt if u wanna write pwease)tired,underrated&worried fantasy-authorphil struggles to maintain his happy&bubbly personality as his very low book sales are no longer enough to support his dying mother. imagine dan's surprised fangirling as his favauthor just walks into the cafe & becomes his coworker one rainyday but he quickly discovers theres more to the man then well-crafted words/Phil falls slowly into hopelessness,lonelines & despair as his loving mum fades away& Dan? Dan falls in love.

You Can’t Tackle Your Demons on Your Own

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Dan is obsessed with a series of books by the amazing author, Phil Lester. He spends his time at the coffee shop he works at reading the books over and over again in the closet. When he meets a new co-worker who is also named Phil, they go on a date. Little does Dan know, he’s sharing a cup of coffee with the author he’s considered his best friend for years.As he gets to know Phil, he finds that Phil is housing a destructive secret. Why did Phil apply to work at The Brew Bean in the first place and what happens when Phil starts breaking away, piece by piece? Can Dan save his beloved author or is Phil going to fall slowly and hopelessly into loneliness and despair? All the while, Dan is falling in love.Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Sex, You’re Gonna CryWord Count: 21,897Reading Time: 01:20:43Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

This was certainly one of the hardest fics I’ve ever had to write. It’s really sad and I’ve cried so many times writing it.I hope you all enjoy my pain and suffering.

…and nothing made Striker happier than slaying the dragon he sought out to tackle. He made sure to wipe off the blood from his sword before returning it to its sheath and he faced his lover on the left. Embracing him and passionately planting a kiss on his lips, Striker felt whole again. That is, until his next quest.

Dan Howell shut the novel he had read at least 15 times already and took a sip of his coffee. His shift was almost over and it was dead. The coffee shop he worked in never saw a lot of foot traffic and when it rained, the business always slowed. He figured out pretty quickly that bringing a book was always smart. Especially when the sky opened up like this.

“Howell, go pack up all the lemon cakes, would ya?” His boss, a lovely woman named Louise, chirped at him. “I don’t think we’ll need anymore today and I’d rather not have to make more in the morning if they spoil.”

Dan stood up straight and tucked his book under the counter as he went to do a task he’d done more times than he could count.

Dan had worked at The Brew Bean for nearly three years now. He moved to Manchester for school and when that didn’t work - because Law was never really his thing - he dropped out and picked up a full-time position at the coffee shop he used to only work at a couple days a week. The tips were good, it paid rent and he could live in the city that he had fallen in love with. Manchester was his second favorite thing. His first favorite thing was Phil Lester, a novelist that wrote fantasy and supplied Dan with a book a year since he was 17. Now he was 23 and the most experienced worker at The Brew Bean where he could serve the city of Manchester while reading his books all day long.

“Please tell me you’re doing something interesting this weekend,” Louise came up beside him, nudging him as she began to put plastic wrap over a lemon cake.

“I told you, I’m not doing anything. I don’t know why you gave me the whole weekend off,” Dan groaned, suddenly remembering that it was Friday and Louise had ‘blessed’ him with two days off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in tomorrow and help you-”

“Howell, I gave you those days off so you could go do something fun for a change! When’s the last time you looked up from those little novels you always have your nose in?” Louise teased. “I swear you’ve read the same book more times than I’ve seen my husband naked.”

Dan cringed and shook his head, letting the hair fall into his face and hide the blush.

“Besides, I have an interview this weekend. Wouldn’t want you to scare them off. It’s the first application we’ve had here since last year!” Louise collected the lemon cakes that she had wrapped and a few from Dan’s hand, putting them into the fridge behind them. “And you remember how that went.”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t scare her off! She came on to me and I told her I wasn’t interested! It’s not my fault she can’t take a hint,” Dan scoffed, remembering the bubbly chick that worked with him for four days, conveniently disappearing after Dan rejected her confession of attraction. It wasn’t Dan’s job to date his heterosexual co-workers. He didn’t even feel bad when she came in a month later to apologize to Louise and pick up a paycheck. “Second of all, don’t you think I should be here? You know, to train them or something?”

“Nice try, Sweetie. He doesn’t start until next week. I’ll need you then,” she chirped. “Consider it a vacation. You’ll be training next week.”

“Ugh,” Dan groaned. “I hope this weekend doesn’t cost me my ability to pay rent, because-”

“Oh, hush. You have worked plenty of overtime. You can’t possibly buy enough Mario Kart expansion packs to make a dent in your rent money.”

“Mario Kart doesn’t have-”

“Howell.”

“Okay okay.” He might as well give up. Once Louise was set in her ways, it was like her mind couldn’t be changed. He decided to change the subject. “So you said it was a he? What’s this new guy like?”

“I don’t know. He only called. I’ll meet him this weekend,” Louise answered. Dan nodded. “Sounds nice though. A tad northern. But I couldn’t tell over my cell.”

“Interesting. I wonder how old he is. We could use a little grunt around here,” Dan flashed Louise a wicked grin and she hit him in the arm.

“Go sweep up and then I’m sending you home.”

“Sick of me, are ya?”

“Quite.”

Dan hugged his book under his jacket as he darted for his apartment building. Luckily, he made the last bus just in time and now he had to endure the rainfall for a few minutes while he trekked the last two blocks. He didn’t mind the rain, especially when he was headed home. At least his hobbit hair wouldn’t be revealed to anyone but him.

He wasn’t angry at Louise because most of the time she was trying to do the right thing, but he honestly had no plans for the weekend. He didn’t have much of a social life - considering he wasn’t in school and it was just Louise and him at work. He hadn’t been home to see his parents in a while, however, sometimes he felt like they didn’t really want him to visit. Once he dropped out of Law school, he was afraid to go home because he wasn’t sure what their reactions would be. He knew it was the right choice, but that left Dan on his lonesome for most nights and days off. Luckily for him, he rarely was at home, which would also explain the mess.

He kicked off his wet shoes and headed for the bedroom to strip and shower. All the while, thinking about how he would spend his weekend.

Phil Lester usually released his new novels at the end of November and that meant Dan still had a month left to wait for the next in the series. This also meant that Dan had spent nearly a year with the last one. He had read it more times than the others, probably because he thought it was the best one. The perfect balance of adventure, romance, and mystery. Phil was good at that. Leaving people on the edge of their seats.

Dan did not understand why more people didn’t read Phil Lester’s novels. He wasn’t terribly popular and it was kind of by chance that Dan found his novels in the first place. He was hanging out in the library after his A-Level exams, helping the librarian organize a few of their shelves when he stumbled upon a box of books that had never been checked out and were being sent to the local thrift shop. Dan remembered thinking that no book belongs in a thrift shop and he dug through the box in search of a few he could save from their eternal dusty shelf life. Phil Lester’s first book sat at the bottom of the box underneath the rest. The cover was green and blue and there was a gnarly picture of a dragon. He flipped it over and read the back, instantly intrigued.

Striker is in danger, but nobody will believe him. What happens when you’re being hunted by a killer that nobody can see? Battling an invisible force, tackling an unexpected dragon and possibly sparking a romance with his partner Samuel, Striker leaves home and does his best to survive. Will he convince people that he’s trying to be a hero, or is he destined to be a flop who’s imagination runs wild?

Phil’s books were always so action packed and interesting, laced with a little bit of humor and dorkiness. Not to mention, Phil’s characters were always gay, which was hard to find in the library in 2008. As expected, he read the whole thing in one night and absolutely loved it. The day after, he spent hours trying to learn about the author. Sadly, Phil was quite shy about his appearance and he never let himself behind a camera. Nobody knew what he looked like or what his life was like. Aside from the obvious speculations from his writing that perhaps he was gay, there wasn’t much out there about him. Dan was thrilled when he found out there would be a new novel each year, essentially falling in love with an author for one reason and one reason only - his novels seemed to speak directly to Dan Howell.

As he stood under the water in the shower, he thought about spending the weekend re-reading a few of his novels. Maybe revisiting the first, just in preparation for the new one. God, how lame was Dan Howell? Rereading the same series of books over and over again.

That’s what you get when your best friend is an author you’ve never met.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, preparing for a weekend of hot cocoa and Phil Lester.

“You mean to tell me, that you did literally nothing this weekend? You just read some stupid books?” Louise teased. She always told him that he took a healthy thing and turned it into the most unhealthy hobby in the world. Reading was supposed to expand the mind, however, by rereading the same novels and practically memorizing their entire plot line, he was only turning his mind to mush. Or so Louise said. He knew she was kind of right, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was Phil trash number one and nothing could change that.

“I had fun. Is that what you want to hear?” Dan mocked as he tied his black apron around his waist. “You told me to have fun and that’s exactly what I did.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I know,” Dan admitted, not even trying to argue.“You were the one who gave me the days off. I didn’t ask for a weekend out on the town!” He playfully pushed her and she sighed. “Now if you’re done judging my social life, then how about you tell me about the new guy?”

Louise looked at him with slitted eyes, clearly not finished with the conversation they were having, but her eyes softened a moment later when it seemed she remembered their new employee.

“Oh, he’s a sweetheart. He was very nice. I’m sure you two will get along,” she praised, wiping down the counter they stood behind, getting the surface ready for some snickerdoodles.

“Ah, he’s nice. So is my mom’s dog,” Dan rolled his eyes. “Come on, Louise! How old is he? Is he tall? Does he have purple eyes and a seven-foot beard? You have to give me something here!”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. He’s coming in at 11:00,” she teased, sticking her tongue out. So this was revenge for the wasted weekend. Dan knew Louise’s game. Dan glanced at the clock. It was 7:30. “Besides, I’ll leave the getting to know each other part for you to figure out. As long as he can make coffee, sweep the floors and work a register, I don’t care what he does in his spare time. I didn’t ask.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m your boss.”

“I know. And every day I’m getting closer to the day I quit.”

“You’ll never quit Howell. I think you would die if you had to leave this place.” Louise’s tone was laced with a tone that wasn’t there before. She was a mother to a child named Darcy, a beautiful young girl who had golden locks like her mother. Louise was used to being protective and protective she was. She mothered Dan as much as she mothered her own kin, so sometimes, when she talked about his future and he mentioned he wanted to work at The Brew Bean for another ten years, she always tried to convince him to do something else. Something more worth his time. But Dan, as usual, would roll his eyes and tell her that it didn’t matter. Money is money and he liked serving coffee. He was more at home in this coffee shop than he ever felt anywhere else. “Now go take the chairs off the tables before we open at 8:00 or I will make you quit today.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The hours inched by slowly. The usual morning rush hit them a little earlier than they were used to. Mondays were rough for everyone and usually, a cup of Joe will do the trick. Dan was making pot after pot while Louise worked the register. Once business slowed, Dan cleaned the tables for the next lunch rush as he prepared another pot for himself and the new guy, who would be coming in any minute.

“I’m gonna go sit in the back and read. Let me know when I’m needed for training,” Dan announced, once all of the post-morning rush chores were done. Louise raised her eyebrows while she counted their tips for the morning in an effort to tell Dan it was fine. It’s not like he didn’t do this every day or anything.

Dan cracked the weathered spine of the book he’d read at least 30 times over, skipping straight to his favorite scene in chapter 13. It was his favorite after all.

Striker’s blade had dulled and the wind was picking up. Most would say that he was at a disadvantage, however, he knew that nothing could stop him. He was being fueled by something impossible to dull. The feeling of a full heart and the ghost of a pair of lips on his own. He sat beside a tree that was twisting up to the heavens. Something about the knots in the trunk told Striker that this tree was ancient. His grandmother, a rumored psychic, told him that old trees were good luck on an adventure. Stroking it gently, he looked at his reflection in the sword. His own blue eyes seemed rather dull, like his blade, in comparison to the brown eyes he was just looking into. Even though Samuel was worlds away, it was like he was right beside him on this quest for-

“Dan!” Louise called from the front. Dan startled a little, admittedly getting into the book as if it were the first time he’d ever read it. “Get out of the closet.”

Dan cringed. He knew it was a joke, Louise knew full well that he was gay and already out of the closet, but every time she needed him, she said the same five words. He only hoped that nobody heard her.

He closed the book, not needing a bookmark because he knew exactly where he was, and slid it on the shelf next to the pile of boxes he was just sitting upon. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, sighing and pulling his lanky body from the quiet of the storage closet. As he walked towards the front, he heard a chipper Louise talking to someone.

He rounded the corner and tried not to gasp.

His new co-worker was tall. Nearly as tall as Dan himself. Nobody was as tall as Dan. That was a feat. He walked slowly as to not draw attention to himself and observed from afar for a moment. The boy had black hair, styled exactly like Dan’s but flipped, the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen, a baby pink mouth with teeth that were only a little crooked when he smiled and a little endearing hunch that made him look like he was always ready to greet you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he nodded along to whatever Louise was saying.

Whatever Louise was saying, was actually about Dan. “…he always just sits in the back and reads his stupid novels. That boy is obsessed with this one author, I don’t remember who-”

Phil’s eyes turned and met Dan’s, who’s mouth quivered up into a smile. He wasn’t nervous, just a little shocked that someone this pretty wanted to work for The Brew Bean in the first place. Louise turned around and her smile brightened.

“Ah! The man himself! Dan, this is Phil. He’s your new grunt,” She winked and referenced the word he used yesterday and Dan’s cheeks went a rosy pink. Great. Now Phil thought he was an asshole. He extended his hand for a shake and Phil’s soft warm one found it.

“Hi. I promise I said that in the most loving way possible,” he tried to claim. “And your name is Phil? That’s funny. One of my fav-”

“As much as I’d love to witness the construction of you two’s friendship…” Louise started, receiving Dan’s little smirk and the roll of his eyes clearly, “We have a lunch rush to prepare for. Dan, why don’t you show Phil where everything is?”

“Sure.” Dan smiled and nodded, giving the new guy a look of ‘I swear you’ll get used to her’.

He watched Louise walk away and Phil’s eyes land on his own. He considered finishing his little fun fact but then realized that this guy wouldn’t care that his name was the same as some random author of Dan’s adolescent years. He silently thanked Louise for interrupting him in the first place.

“So it’s all pretty self-explanatory. The coffee machine is there, we have different roasts so as long as we rebrew one when it’s out, we should never really run out of coffee.” He pointed to the two coffee makers on the left with the green lids. “These are decaf. Make sure not to mix the two up, because trust me when I say Mr. Jenkins will be angry if he doesn’t get his morning caffeine.” Dan laughed a little at his own joke, thankfully Phil followed and chuckled as well. “This is the register, I’ll teach you how to use that later. It’s pretty simple. You just basically punch a bunch of numbers and hope the drawer will pop open.”

Phil followed him back towards the storage area and opened the closet door.

“This is where we have extra bags of coffee, cups, dishes, and anything that can be stored without a fridge. Then the cold stuff goes in the fridge up front,” he closed the door and walked around to the dish station. “And that’s where we clean shit. But hopefully, they won’t make you do the grunt work today. Despite what I said.” Dan smiled and crossed his arms. “That will be my job tonight.”

Phil laughed and looked at his feet while nodding.

“That is the floor. We clean it once a day,” Dan smirked. “Don’t look at it too closely though and definitely don’t eat anything that drops on it.”

“Noted,” Phil said, removing his eyes from the floor and meeting Dan’s. Dan looked around to see if there was anything else he needed to show Phil, eventually leading him back up front.

“So I guess you’ll be shadowing me today then.” He looked around for Louise and saw no sight of her. She was most likely in the office sorting out schedules. Now that there was another human on board, she would have to remake their usual schedule. “Have any questions?”

Phil looked contemplative for a moment and then he shook his head.

“Great! Making my job easier,” Dan said as he slumped back against the counter. “So.” He pushed his lips into a straight line, giving his dimple a cameo. “What brings you here, Phil?”

For what seemed like no reason, Phil’s face fell and it looked like he was struggling with something to say. Dan’s eyes expanded slightly as he tried to figure out why that question would warrant such a response. He was good at small talk because that’s what he did all day. Nobody has ever made a face like that when he asked that. Usually, the answer is “a cup of Joe” or “I have some time to kill.” He supposed that Phil’s answer would be different because he was an employee and not just someone coming in to buy a coffee.

“Sorry, you don’t have to-”

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck,” the guy said, his eyes finding Dan’s again, the light somehow lesser than before. “But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan frowned. “Well that’s a bummer, what do you do?”

Phil looked like he was about to answer when the sound of a string of bells signaled the presence of a customer.

“Hold that thought.” Dan swiveled and faced the register, his mouth turning up into a smile as he greeted the young lady. “Hi! Welcome to The Brew Bean. What can I get you?”

After paying for two coffees and insisting her date was on his way, she went to sit down by the window.

“Not sure why everyone who shows up alone needs to insist their date is on the way. I don’t care,” Dan laughed, directing this comment at Phil who also chuckled. He got a mug from the cart beneath the machines and poured the woman her coffee. “You want to bring it to her?”

Phil nodded and took the coffee. Just before Dan let go, Phil’s arm wobbled a little and he almost lost the cup completely. Thank goodness Dan was still holding on.

“Woah. You got it?” His eyes crinkled with the question, his teeth showing in a friendly smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to balance like five cups at a time. It doesn’t take long to become a coffee juggler.”

Phil flashed him a worried glance, something Dan read as ‘I’m too clumsy for that’ and as Phil walked slowly to the table with the coffee, Dan knew he read right. This guy was going to break some mugs. Dan could tell.

Surprisingly, he made it to the table no problem, smiling at the woman and striking up a little conversation. Dan couldn’t hear much but he admired the boy’s charisma. He seemed to really like to chat, especially with strangers. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe Louise would finally get off his back about the reading thing if he could make a little work friend while he was here.

“He’s a cutie, isn’t he?” Louise popped out of nowhere and made Dan jump. They were both watching Phil explain something to this woman who was laughing hysterically as Phil waved his arms around in front of her. Dan didn’t even register that he was nodding. “Don’t think I missed your little heart eyes. Something tells me you find him attractive?”

“Shut up…” Dan said, but he didn’t mean it. She was right. She was always right.

“It’s a good thing he’s single,” Louise piped in. Dan’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“How do you know?” he asked as Louise just smiled.

“What kind of questions do you think I have to ask during an interview?” She said, a mischievous tone in her voice now. “I need to know if there are any outside factors that might affect a work schedule.”

“You’re terrible! Who let you open this place in the first place?” Dan asked, his cheeks returning to the normal shade after a dangerous thought he had about his brand new co-worker.

“I don’t know. But don’t tell me you didn’t want to hear that,” Louise waggled her eyebrows at him and he shook his head, turning away from her and towards the coffee maker, checking to make sure it was still hot. “Maybe you should ask if he wants to get coffee sometime.”

Dan shook his head.

“Mmhmm, yeah, sure. Hey, Phil, I know we both work in a coffee shop but how would you like to go get some coffee with me sometime?”

“I would love to,” a voice that was certainly not Louise’s answered behind him. Dan spun around and his wide eyes met Phil’s dazzling blue ones. He blinked a couple of times, forgetting the question he just asked and then smiled, trying to cover up how startled he was. “Unless that question was meant for another Phil…in which I’ll just leave you to it.”

Dan huffed out a laugh and nodded. He thought about the other Phil in his life and bit his lip as he imagined what it would be like asking that Phil out. This Phil was far less scary.

“No, no. You’re the right Phil,” he smiled brighter, promising to kill Louise later, putting his nerves aside. “I have to close tonight. Why don’t you stick around and we can do coffee before we both leave?”

Phil beamed and he nodded.

“Not gonna lie, I thought it would take at least a few weeks for you to ask me out,” Phil smirked, his tooth finding his own lip and his cheeks flushing a little. “Plus, I’d love to get to know you. All I know is that apparently, you’re a giant nerd.”

“Louise…” Dan cursed, his hands landing on his hips. “It’s true. I am. But she makes it sound so lame.”

“She said something about Mario Kart expansion packs…?” Phil teased. “Please tell me she’s not direct quoting here?”

Dan rolled his eyes and let out a familiar laugh.

The rest of their shift ran pretty smoothly. Phil stuck to Dan’s side like glue, his eyes intently watching as Dan did everything. Lucky for Dan, he was rather confident about his barista skills. He’d been doing it for long enough anyway. Phil or no Phil, he always did his best to please every customer.

He kept himself talking about the job, explaining to Phil what his duties would be once he actually started, giving him instructions as he went about his daily tasks. He also shared some stories about some of the customers he’s had to deal with in the past. He warned Phil about the regulars, telling him that some were a nightmare and would be able to tell if their coffee didn’t have exactly four sugars.

Louise left around 5:00 pm, leaving Dan and Phil to close the store at 8:00. Usually, on a Monday, they didn’t get many people after 7:00 and Phil was a huge help with the closing duties. They pretty much put everything away except for one coffee machine that they left up and running and one table that they planned to sit at for a bit after they closed.

“I think we can probably flip the sign now. I don’t think anyone else is coming in,” Dan said as he checked the clock on the register. “Will you do that for me? Lock the door and all that?”

Phil nodded and saluted him, his eyes bright and his smile warm.

Dan hadn’t really thought about the ‘date’ he was about to go on, but he smiled when he realized how cute this man was. His mind was on training, not romance, but now that they were nearly done, he was starting to get nervous. He hadn’t been on a date since secondary school and although this was usually something he would be stressing out about, there was something about Phil that seemed so familiar and bright. Comforting to the degree that Dan wasn’t really scared at all. He had the confidence to train the man, how hard could going on a date really be?

When Phil skipped back up to the counter, instead of going around it to where they had been standing all day, he put his elbow down against the wooden bar and leaned against it. “Hello. I would like to place an order for two coffees, one for me and one for my date who…” Phil turned and looked towards the door. “Is on his way.”

Dan tried not to smile, but he couldn’t not laugh at that. He raised his eyebrows and tried really hard to give Phil a look of disappointment for doing exactly what that lady had done before, but it just looked fond.

“Sure thing,” Dan responded, sighing and getting out two mugs from beneath the counter. “But for future reference, I don’t care that your date is on his way. That’s none of my business.”

Phil frowned playfully.

“Excuse me sir, but I am a customer!” Phil role-played. “I deserve your full respect. In fact, who’s in charge here!? I’d like to speak to them, please!”

Dan couldn’t believe he was going through this right now. Not even Louise would pull this little game and Dan was loving it.

“I’m in charge here. And unless that date of yours is coming from inside the building, it seems the door has been locked,” Dan teased. “Looks like you’ll have to drink both coffees by yourself.”

Dan placed the two fresh coffees on the counter in front of Phil and he smirked down at them.

“Well…” he hesitated and gestured toward their soon-to-be table. “Now that I don’t have a date, care to sit?”

Dan grinned. God this man had a way with words. No wonder Dan found him so attractive. He loved a man with a fanciful imagination.

“I guess you’ve left me no choice.” Dan gave in to the fake argument and nodded his head once to signal the win. “Why don’t you sit down. I’ll bring you your drink.”

Phil stared at Dan for one more moment with a touch of light behind his eyes, only to turn and stride towards the last table that was set up in the dining room. Dan watched him for a second before grabbing the two cups and following him over to the seat that Phil had kindly pulled out for Dan.

“Why thank you,” Dan played along, sitting his ass down and waiting for Phil to sit across from him. When he finally sat, their eyes made contact and the two just broke into laughter.

For a whole minute, they laughed, Dan’s head ending up on the table. This guy was amazing! They got along so well it was almost unbelievable. Here’s to hoping the date goes as well as their shift did.

“So Dan,” Phil said, sipping his coffee with tentative lips. The coffee was hot and Phil was no doubt doing this for comedic effect.

“So Phil.”

“Tell me. What is a man like you, doing in a place like this?” Phil asked, Dan’s threshold for cheesy questions was usually pretty low, but for Phil, he’d allow it. “Maybe I should start with asking how old you are?”

“Twenty-three.” Dan got the easier answer out of the way while he thought about a better answer for the first question. “And I’ve lived in Manchester for about four years now, I’ve worked here for just as long, and I like it here so I see no reason to leave.”

“That’s fair,” Phil added. “It’s a nice place.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose your job,” Dan guessed, smirking as he did. He wasn’t touching his coffee just yet, knowing how hot it was when it first came from the pot.

“No seriously. I could have chosen anywhere to work and I chose this place for two reasons. 80% of the reason was that I love coffee more than life itself, but I can assure you, 19% of the reason was for the aesthetic,” Phil said proudly.

“And the leftover 1%?”

“The barista was pretty cute.” Phil’s tone deepened when he said it, his eyes flashing Dan with a little bit of mischief.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” Phil nodded.

“So you’ve been here before?” Dan asked, curious how he missed such a beautiful man. The place was small. He worked every day. He was sure he would have noticed someone like Phil.

“Months ago…” Phil traced circles on the table in front of him. “I have been kind of stuck at home the last few months…working.” He sighed. “I used to come here with my mother. But she hasn’t…made it down here in a while.”

“Well maybe now that you work here, she’ll stop by!” Dan smiled, finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip.

“Maybe…” Phil looked like the little touch of sadness had flooded behind his eyes again and Dan wished only to make it go away. He changed the subject.

“So you know I’m a nerd. Am I looking at another nerd or is it just me?” Dan asked, hoping to lighten the conversation. It seemed to work as Phil kind of chuckled.

“Are you asking if I have any Mario Kart expansion packs you can borrow?”

“I’m asking for a friend.”

Phil laughed.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd,” Phil admitted. “Okay��maybe I’m a huge nerd. But don’t tell Louise because I see the way she talks about you and your ‘reading’ hobby.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, what did she say, that I’m turning my brain to mush with all the books I read?”

“Well, not those words exactly, but yes. Something of the like.” Phil smiled compassionately at Dan. “For the record, I don’t think reading is a waste of time. It’s a great way to escape.”

“Exactly!” Dan was glad that Phil wasn’t going to judge him for his reading habits. He didn’t need another person to criticize him for his one and only hobby. “I don’t have a lot of-” Friends. “…social obligations. So I spend a lot of time reading.”

“I totally understand. I’m the same way,” Phil’s eyes were soft and understanding. Dan wondered what kind of books Phil liked to read, but he felt like that might be a strange question to ask, especially when he didn’t know Phil all that well.

“Well, I hope you won’t find it offensive if I’m off reading while we wait out those slow days. I would bring a book too if I were you. You’ll probably need it and Louise doesn’t like us using our phones on the job.”

“But she lets you read?” Phil gasped. “Shocker.”

“She’s a strange one…if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Phil nodded. “But she seems sweet.”

“She is.”

There was a moment of silence while they both sipped their coffee, enjoying the sound of an empty coffee shop. Dan looked out the window and noticed how dark it had gotten and he fought a yawn. He wasn’t tired, but usually, he was well on his way to his own apartment by now. With very little friends, he didn’t have much of a reason to stay up late. He was generally in bed by 12:00 am at the latest. After having a cheeky scroll through the internet or playing a bit of Guild Wars by himself, he clocked out rather early.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked while he was thinking about his apartment.

“Are you asking me to take you home? And on the first date as well?” Phil pretended to be appalled at the boy’s forward question. Dan’s cheeks became flushed and he hoped the low lighting would hide the color.

“N-no, I just didn’t know if you lived far or-”

Phil seemed to realize his flustered behavior and corrected himself gently.

“Sorry. I was joking,” he laughed it off. “Yeah, I live a couple blocks away.”

“Oh. You’re closer than I am. I have to take a bus. Or else I have to walk about 30 minutes,” Dan said, suddenly realizing that he had missed the last bus and he was going to have to do that walk tonight. He didn’t mind as it was pretty nice out, but he wasn’t necessarily planning on having to account for that this evening. “I was closer when I went to school at Manchester.”

“You went to Manchester?” Phil’s face lit up. “What for?”

“Law.”

Phil’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Dan to get it.

“I know, I know. I don’t look like a lawyer.” He put his head in his hands and shook it. “That’s why I dropped out.”

“Ah.” Phil nodded, without following the one syllable reaction with a question like why or will you ever go back? That was nice of him.

Dan could feel this conversation going in a direction he didn’t want it to go to, so he changed the subject again by asking about Phil.

“So how old are you, then? Because if I had to guess, I would assume like, 24.”

“Wow! Thanks!” Phil exclaimed, his hands clasping together. “I’m 27. But I hope I stay looking young forever!” He leaned in closer to Dan. “I’ll tell you a secret if you want.”

“Shoot.” Dan leaned in to meet him. Their noses were only inches apart and Dan’s eyes flicked down to Phil’s lips. He hoped Phil hadn’t noticed.

“My grandmother was a psychic…” Phil started. “And she looked young until the day she died. She always said that her psychic powers transferred down to me. I’m hoping the ‘looking young’ thing also runs in the family.”

He leaned back in his chair and Dan slowly leaned back into his. His eyebrows furrowed. He swore there was something familiar about that secret, but he didn’t quite know where to pin it.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dan said. “That your grandma was a psychic, I mean. A lot of people don’t believe in that stuff.”

“I do.” Phil said, far too quickly. “Most say I have quite the imagination.”

“Me too.”

“You must. Especially if you read as much as I’m getting the impression you do,” Phil assumed, giving Dan a shrug. “Let me guess. Fantasy is your genre?”

Dan’s smile grew.

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” Phil was slipping the last of his coffee into his mouth, tilting his head back to get it all from the mug. “Plus, I know fantasy. Fantasy and I are great friends.”

Dan laughed at the way Phil phrased that. It’s funny because he always said the same thing.

It was then that he decided it would be worth sharing a little about his hobby. He could trust Phil, right? He wouldn’t make fun of him. Not if they shared the same friend.

“You know what’s funny?” Dan asked, anticipating that Phil would want to know what he was silently chuckling about a moment before.

“Hm?”

“I have this author. One that writes this amazing series. And at this point, I’ve read his books so many times, that I would consider him a friend,” Dan laughed at himself. Saying it out loud made it seem so childish. Like he fostered some imaginary friend in his mind that he talked to when he was alone. “His writing just speaks to me. As if it were written directly for my ears…er…eyes.”

Phil was looking at him with curiosity.

“God, I wish I had readers like you…” Phil said quietly, his eyes going to his lap.

“Huh?”

Phil paused for a moment and then returned his gaze to Dan, his smile not quite as full as it was only moments before.

“I dabble a little in the writing department,” Phil spoke slowly like he was being careful with his words. Like he was embarrassed to admit this secret. Dan’s eyes lit up.

“You do?”

“Yeah…but I don’t have nearly the following as it seems your favorite has,” Phil said sadly. “That’s actually why um…” He cleared his throat. “Why I had to get another job. My books aren’t selling as much as I wish.” He laughed a little at himself. “But who’s books are, right?”

Dan was looking at Phil with concern. He looked like he was hiding something. Something deep beneath the surface. Something behind the blue eyes and the pristine personality.

“To be fair, the series I’m into isn’t even that popular. I just…really love the writing and the stories are just…” Dan looked up to find the words. “So captivating.” His cheeks felt warm as if his body was rewarding him for praising his favorite. “I can’t stop reading his books. Over and over and over again.”

Phil nodded and looked at his empty cup. Dan hoped he wasn’t making him feel bad. He didn’t want Phil to feel like his books weren’t good enough. He didn’t want Phil to think that Dan wasn’t interested. Instead of changing the subject this time, he decided to ask what he thought might brighten Phil’s mood.

“What uh…what’s your last name? Maybe I can check out your books sometime. I’m sure you’re a really great writer! I’ve been reading the same books over and over again. So maybe it’s time I find some better material,” Dan joked, knowing inside that nothing could ever come before his favorite author. But if it made Phil feel better, if it made Phil’s smile come back, then it was worth the trouble of at least peeling back a cover.

“Oh, uh, Lester,” Phil mumbled, his eyes darting out the window as if he was embarrassed to speak his own name.

Dan’s face paled.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

There was absolutely no fucking way.

Not a chance

The Phil sitting across from him, the Phil he had been training all day, the Phil he was currently on a date with…was the Phil that he had been gushing over since he was 17.

No fucking way.

This Phil was the same Phil who invented the most captivating series Dan had ever read.

This Phil was the same Phil that built a world of dragons and demons and all sorts of creatures that Dan only dreamt of learning more about.

This Phil was the same Phil that had been his best friend when nobody else had wanted to be.

This Phil was the same Phil that was now looking at him with concern written all over his face.

“Dan?” He asked, probably noticing how pale Dan had gotten and how his hands were shaking as they held the mug.

“Uhhh-…I uh…I need to…hangononesecond,” Dan muttered, getting up and scooting his chair with a loud screech. “Berightback.”

Phil looked alarmed as Dan darted back behind the counter and out of sight so he could have a moment to breathe. This was certainly not how he expected to meet his idol. Not this casually at least. He opened the storage closet and sat on the box that had dented from his earlier sit. He took a number of deep breaths as his eyes landed on the little blue and green book that was tucked onto a shelf beneath the spare cups. His shaky hand reached for the tattered book, the first book he ever owned of Phil’s, and he flipped through the first few pages.

He could not believe this was happening.

But at the same time, it made so much sense. Phil was actually the spitting image of his character. Striker was described as tall and raven-haired, his skin pale and his eyes blue. Dan had always assumed that Phil modeled the character after himself but it didn’t click until now how much Phil looked like the character he had fallen in love with.

He felt stupid now.

However, as much as he wanted to sit and hyperventilate until Phil eventually left him, he figured it would be rude to leave him with zero explanation. So with eight more deep breaths, he hugged the novel to his chest and left the closet for the second time that day. This time, with much less confidence.

He reappeared behind the counter where he could see Phil slumping in the chair and stirring Dan’s coffee with a spoon. He looked confused and possibly a little offended. Dan’s heart hurt knowing that he had done that to his favorite author.

He walked over and sat back down, the book falling into his lap where Phil couldn’t see it and he watched as Phil looked up at him with the most confused expression Dan had ever seen on another human being.

“I don’t know much about you Dan, but does that happen a lot because if it does I need to be prepared for next time you-”

“Phil.” Dan’s words came out so quietly. He was saying Phil’s name. Phil Lester’s name. Holy shit. This was a lot to handle. He was surprised he was even able to speak at all. In his dreams, the ones where he met Phil, he could never talk. Not even in his dreams did he had this opportunity.

He decided that words weren’t even his best plan of attack. He had no idea what to say or how to explain, so he just got a firm grip on the book with his one hand, pushed his coffee cup out of the way and then slowly brought the book up to the table. He placed it down gently, watching as Phil’s eye actually twitched.

He stared for a long time. A longer time than Dan had taken to himself in the closet. Dan wasn’t going to question it, but Phil looked like he was concentrating very hard. He seemed to be piecing things together in his mind. He was most likely taking in the age of the book, the weathered condition, the many many doggy ears on the corners, the coffee stains on the sides, the destroyed spine and the book’s presence in the first place. All these things could tell you one thing and one thing only. Dan fucking loved that book. If this was the same Phil that Dan had grown up reading, he was getting that impression and Dan was so damn nervous.

Then Dan froze. He had been subtly watching Phil watch the book and Phil, who was sporting a rather blank expression, was now tearing up and a drop of salty water hit the table. Dan would have gasped if he didn’t think the noise would break the man before him.

Phil’s tears only multiplied and suddenly, Dan was staring at a 27-year-old genius who was crying on a date. Who the fuck knew Dan’s evening would go like this?

After a significant period of time, Dan spoke up. If only to make this less awkward.

“Phil…are you uh…okay?”

Phil slowly raised his eyes to Dan and a smile formed on his quivering lips. “Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry I’m just thinking…” His voice was weak and trembling, his eyes filled with light once again. “…thinking about the things you said about-” He pointed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my books.”

Dan blinked. No way. Phil was an amazing writer.

“Do…do you really do that? R-read my books over and over again?”

Dan nodded like it was second nature. He couldn’t believe that was a question that Phil even dared to ask. Of course, he did. Phil Lester was his absolute favorite.

Phil nodded and he sat for a moment more before standing up abruptly and staring at Dan. Dan blinked up at him and smiled. The best smile he could. Before Phil came at him with a hug. He practically pulled Dan out of his seat and up into a standing position where Phil could embrace him into a warm and appreciating hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Phil mumbled into Dan’s shoulder, his lips moving against Dan’s collar bone. “You don’t have any idea what that means to me.”

Dan didn’t know what to say, so he mumbled an “of course” and rubbed Phil’s back gently.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that fate worked out this way!” Phil’s smile was back and he was gripping Dan by his biceps, his whole entire face glowing. If Dan hadn’t just seen the tears, he would have assumed that none had been shed that night. He blinked a few times and he nodded. “I have met my biggest fan!”

Dan blushed.

“Imagine how I feel…” he stammered, glancing down at the book on the table. Phil’s smile fell from his face, but not in a bad way. He just seemed to realize the gravity of this situation from Dan’s eyes. Then he broke out into a laugh.

“Oh my Gosh! You’re dating your idol!”

Dan blushed even more.

“That is…” Phil’s cheeks colored. “That is if I get a second date?” He bit his lip. “Usually, when people cry on first dates, they don’t get a call back…”

Dan tried to glare at Phil but it just turned out to be a look of fondness, one he’s been shooting Phil all day.

“I don’t know…a chance to spend more time with Phil Lester?” Dan pondered aloud. “Not sure if it’s worth it…”

Phil playfully pouted.

“I know how we can find out if it is worth it!” Phil grinned, his face up to no good.

Dan was about to ask when Phil stepped closer, his body flushing up to Dan’s front.

No.

No way.

Then Phil did the unimaginable. He leaned forward and connected his lips to Dan’s and Dan felt like his whole body exploded. He had no idea what happened. His eyes shut and bright colors filled the black that he usually stared at when he closed his lids over his brown eyes. Phil’s lips felt like an escape, much like the pages of the books he wrote. Dan was lapping up the warmth when Phil gently pulled away, a smile reforming on his perfect lips as he touched his nose to Dan’s.

“I knew I’d find a Samuel one day…”

Dan’s stomach dropped to the floor and Phil laughed.

“Come on, we have a coffee shop to close!” He gave one last glance at the book sitting on the table, smiled brightly and then he picked up the coffee cups. “I’ll go wash these. Why don’t you clean off this table and we’ll lock up.”

Dan could only nod and he picked up the book, his mouth still open with delight.

He was not convinced that the past 12 hours had actually happened. He was not convinced that he was actually ‘dating’ the Phil Lester he had wondered about when he was young. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t had dreams like this. Granted, he didn’t know what Phil looked like, but the version in his head was modeled from Striker and it was scary how close to the real thing he had gotten. Weird images of past dreams flashed in his head and he couldn’t express how long he had wanted to be Striker’s Samuel.

But now…now he had it better.

He was Phil Lester’s Dan.

He could not even fathom what kind of luck he must have had to achieve his one and only dream. Not only to achieve it - meeting Phil Lester - but surpass it - dating Phil Lester.

What a world he lived in.

“You ready?” Phil asked as he broke Dan from the spell he was under. He was staring out at the dark street in front of the shop while Phil ran and made sure all the lights were off. Dan nodded and reached for the key that Louise had given him a few year back so that he could lock up without her. He locked the front door behind him and turned to face Phil.

“So…” Dan started, it suddenly dawned on him that he’d have to leave the boy here and walk in the other direction. Not to mention, he had about 30 minutes to walk by himself and he was kind of dreading it. All he wanted was to lay down on his cheap twin bed and think about the evening he had just had. “I guess I’ll see you…next time you work?”

Phil blinked back at him, as if tiny little cogs were spinning in his head.

“How far did you say you lived from here?” Phil asked, glancing up the street.

“Oh uh…like 30 minutes. I usually take the bus but…” Dan’s voice trailed off as he gestured to the abandoned street and the flickering street lamp.

Phil was silent for a moment and then Dan was watching as he stepped closer.

“Call me crazy…but I don’t really like the idea of you walking all of that way.” The words tumbled from his mouth as he didn’t break the eye contact that Dan was holding so dearly. “I know it’s only the first date, although you have technically known me for years, what do you say about coming home and spending the night on my couch?”

Dan blanked.

“It’s only a couple blocks and I have plenty of room…” Phil convinced, bumping his shoulder into Dan’s.

It’s not like this night could have gotten anymore fantastical. He might as well. Phil could have said anything at this point and Dan would have blindly followed him. So he nodded and Phil’s face lit up for the millionth time that night.

“Swell! Well, let’s get going then!” Before Dan could say anything else at all, Phil clutched Dan’s hand and started dragging him in the direction of his place. Dan blushed severely and listened to Phil talk about the how much he loved the city at night.

When they arrived at Phil’s place, Phil unlocked the door of the tiny townhouse and he creaked it open. He turned to Dan and his face went very somber, if only for a moment.

“Make sure you’re quiet. I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ll explain once we get into the basement,” Phil instructed. If this was some stranger, Dan might have considered this sentence as a red flag. But this was Phil. Of course, this would be completely normal.

He followed Phil through the house and when the basement door shut and they were officially downstairs, the light flicked on and Dan could immediately get a peek at Phil’s life. The life he knew nothing about until today. It was surrounding him. The blue and green sheets on the bed matched the blue and green on the cover of Phil’s first book, his desk in the corner was exactly what a writer’s desk might look like - with crumbled pieces of paper littering the floor and everything, the walls were covered in posters of great movies and awesome music, and there was even a little lounge where it seems Phil liked to sit and play various video games on the systems that Dan could see sitting pretty under the TV.

“You like my bachelor pad?” Phil laughed, walking over to the tiny fridge and getting Dan a bottle of water.

“I do…” Dan responded, not even considering that Phil’s question was most likely sarcastic.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Phil exclaimed, flopping himself down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Dan could feel his feet moving to go sit next to him as he looked around the giant room some more. “I was going to move…but some uh…some plans changed and now I’m kind of stuck here for a little longer.”

Dan didn’t ask because it didn’t seem Phil wanted to explain, but he nodded in response and took a sip from the water bottle he was given. His eyes landed on the Wii that looked to still be on and he nudged Phil.

“Wanna play some Mario Kart?” He wasn’t even considering how late it was or that he was going to have to be at work the next day at 7:00 am. He just wanted to play Mario Kart with Phil and if he was tired tomorrow, he would just have to deal. Not to mention, he’d be waking up on Phil Lester’s couch.

Phil agreed and confirmed Dan’s theory about the Wii still being on when he turned on the TV and a screen full of characters appeared before them.

“I was playing before I left for work today,” Phil admitted, laughing when it showed that he was about to select Bowser. “But I bet you already assumed that.”

They started a race and Dan kicked Phil’s ass. But Dan could admit, Phil gave him a good fight. Dan was just really really good at Mario Kart. With all his ‘free time’, he played plenty and he was unusually savvy with a Wii remote.

“Alright, alright, you beat me fair and square,” Phil gave up after playing about 17 rounds and losing each one. After every single round, he begged Dan for a do-over and insisted that it was “all or nothing.” Dan was too good though and each time, he made it over the finish line before Phil could even catch up.

It wasn’t until Phil switched off the TV and there was silence in the room that Dan realized how close they were. Dan was leaning up against Phil - leftover from when he was trying to mess up the older boy with a jolt to the arm, and Phil’s arm was overlapping Dan’s shoulder. Dan wasn’t complaining and when Phil turned his head to face Dan, it seemed he made the same realization.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Phil said, his cheeks getting pink. “I really needed someone like you in my life right now.”

“Th-thanks?” Dan said, hesitant to take a compliment. He’s the one that should be thanking Phil.

Phil was silent for a moment while it looked like he fished around in Dan’s eyes. Then his eyebrows went up and there was a small smirk resting on his face.

“Okay. Clearly, we are going to have to talk about the elephant in the room. I don’t want you throwing those googly eyes at me every second. Please, ask me what you want about my books now so that we can put this weird little fangirling thing we’ve got going on behind us,” Phil said, his words dripping with fondness, yet Dan was totally caught off guard. He wasn’t staring at Phil like that because he liked his books - even though that certainly played a part in it - he was staring at Phil because he couldn’t believe that a human could be this perfect. Let alone a human that was sitting with him on the couch right now. “I’m sure you have questions. With as many plot holes as there are in my books, you’ve got to have at least something that bothers you.”

Dan hadn’t thought about it much before, but it was dawning on him that Phil wasn’t really a fan of his own writing. He wasn’t as confident as the Striker in his books and he didn’t think very highly of his own talent. To Dan, this was ridiculous. Phil Lester was the best author he knew. He was the only author Dan would read and his words were like magic as they peeled off the page and into his brain. It saddened him that Phil didn’t even consider his own writing beautiful enough to promote.

Then the conversation he had earlier with Phil hit him like a brick to the face and suddenly it didn’t matter how close the two were sitting or how perfect Phil Lester was, a sentence smacked him in the front of his brain.

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck…But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan’s eyes widened and he could tell that Phil was about to ask what was wrong.

“You aren’t writing another book?” Dan blurted out, his heart stopping for a moment while he waited for an answer.

Phil’s bubbly smile melted from his face and he looked at Dan with confusion, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how Dan had guessed that. But his shaky hand reached for his collar, adjusting it with the lightest touch.

“I don’t think I can…” Phil answered slowly, not even realizing the heart-shattering news he was delivering to the boy sitting in front of him. “It’s just…I don’t think there’s another book…in me.”

Dan’s mouth had fallen open and he was just watching Phil’s blue eyes fade to gray. His face void of all color.

“So you haven’t written a book for this November?” Dan asked, not even stopping to think that maybe it was insensitive to ask such a question.

Phil sighed and his face read that it was complicated.

“Dan…I…” He avoided all eye contact. “No.” His voice trembled. “No, I haven’t.”

Dan was beyond shocked. He wasn’t mad, because how could he be? He didn’t know what Phil’s life was like and he wasn’t trying to pressure the boy, but he was really looking forward to that next novel and now that he knew it wasn’t even in the works, a part of him started to wilt.

“I’m sorry…I just don’t think I can do it,” Phil whimpered, his hands now wringing together and his eyes starting to glisten. He looked like he had just realized something while he was admitting this fact to Dan. He looked so small all of a sudden. “You’re not like…mad or anything…?” He looked down at his hands. “…cause I didn’t know that people…” He corrected himself. “…that you liked my books. And I just haven’t really been feeling up to…” Phil spoke the last word so quietly as if he didn’t want to say it out loud in the first place. “…writing.”

Dan stared at Phil and there was clearly a backstory that he was missing. He kept having to remind himself that he’d only met Phil today an that everything he knew about the guy he was looking at, was through a character that Phil had created. Although it was somewhat based on truth, Dan couldn’t just ask a near stranger why he couldn’t write another novel. It just wasn’t polite. That, and Phil looked like he was about to break. Any second.

So Dan took something out of Phil’s book, although not literally, he went out on a whim and scooted even closer to the wilting boy and reached to caress the side of his face.

“Phil…” Dan started. “I don’t care about the book. I mean…I do…but I understand. I like you. I like you a lot. And I know it’s only been like 12 hours and I know it might be crazy, but something tells me that this has to be fate…” He swallowed a comment about how cheesy he knew he sounded and kept going. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. And not just because I like your books, but because I-” He knew sharing this next part was going to be hard, but he didn’t realize that it was going to be the first time he’d said it out loud. “I’ve never really had a best friend before and something about you just makes me feel like you’ve known me forever.”

Phil was staring at him, his eyes bouncing between Dan’s own twinkling orbs and his moving lips.

“Phil, please believe me. I was attracted to you before I knew you were the amazing Phil that I knew you were,” Dan blushed. “And if it’s any consolation…I thought you were amazing before I found out.”

Phil was no longer on the verge of tears, but his eyes were full of mirth and something that Dan had never seen on a person up close before. Something specific that he had only ever read - in Phil’s books that is. Love.

Dan knew he was bordering crazy and certainly, his wildest of dreams never unfolded this way, but he took a moment to breathe in his last sane breath and then leaned forward to kiss the boy who looked to be begging for it.

Kissing turned out to be the gateway to something more. Dan had never trod this territory before but Phil was gentle and somehow a little awkward, and about 45 minutes and a hefty amount of heavy breathing later, they were lying beside each other in Phil’s bed with little to no room between them.

Even though it was only a short walk to The Brew Bean, it felt like eons. Dan was reeling about the night before, going over it a million times and then all over again. He had spent nearly the whole night beside Phil in his bed, wearing nothing but a grin and a pair of borrowed briefs. They had talked about everything under the sun. Dan finally got to ask a few questions about Phil’s books and where he got his inspiration, and Phil asked him about Uni and why he left. They were tender subjects but between kissing and kind words, the topics didn’t seem so scary for either of them.

In the morning when Dan’s alarm went off, he woke in a startle when he realized he had fallen asleep on the chest of another man. When he looked up and saw that no, it wasn’t a dream, Phil Lester was actually asleep below him, he nearly passed out again out of amazement. Dan could still feel the way the older boy stirred beneath him and wrapped his warm arms around him as he begged the younger not to leave. But Dan was opening today and he had to get the shop before 8:00 to open up. So Phil got up and stretched his naked body in the patch of sunlight that made him look angelic and then wandered off to make them both a pot of coffee. It’s not like Dan couldn’t have waited until he got to work, but Phil seemed to need it more than he did.

Dan arrived at the shop at 7:20 which was later than he’d ever been. He usually showed up early to make sure he had time to sit and have a cup before he opened the store for others, but today he would miss that. Thank goodness Louise wasn’t here to tease him about it. At least not yet.

Of course, the girl didn’t miss anything. The moment she walked it, Dan could tell she knew something he didn’t. Maybe Dan was giving off the post-coitus vibes or maybe his face said it all, but when they had a slow second, she sauntered over to Dan and gave him an all-knowing look.

“So…” Her teeth were scraping her bottom lip as if she was refraining from saying something but Dan was clearly in trouble. “How was your night?”

A docile question for the all-knowing Louise to ask.

Dan turned to her and grinned, not even trying to mask his excitement with a sarcastic comment. There was nothing about this that screamed Dan Howell. Nothing cautious or bitter. His relationship with Phil was completely out of character. In fact, it reminded him of a different character altogether and it only made since when he realized it was Striker.

“How do you think?” Dan asked, turning away to hide the blush that was flooding his face.

“I think you need to spill because I know that blush isn’t coming from nowhere,” Louise pestered, her lips turned up in a smirk. “Phil isn’t that charming. Why are you so smitten?”

Dan wanted to argue because yes, Phil is that charming, but he decided he’d rather cut to the chase and tell Louise why Phil was especially perfect for him.

“Remember those books? The ones I read all the time?” Dan asked Louise who looked positively bothered by the fact that they were coming up now, of all times, but she nodded and listened. “Well, Phil’s the one who wrote them.”

Louise looked confused for a moment as if she were doing math in her head and trying to figure out how that was statistically possible. Dan knew that it wasn’t but it happened anyway and here he’s gone and slept with the guy. But Louise could probably read that right away.

“Oh God,” she muttered. She looked actually quite horrified.

“What?” Dan asked, worried there was something Louise hadn’t told him about Phil.

“I’m going to have to hire someone else, aren’t I?”

Dan blinked at her.

“What?”

“Dan…if he really is the love of your life, as he obviously is, then I’m gonna need another person to come in for the days you both want off,” Louise explained, thinking purely as a boss and less as a mother right now. Dan opened his mouth as if he were going to argue but because it was Phil, he didn’t want to. He knew deep down that she was right. If he was later than usual this morning and this continued on like he’d hoped, he would need a few days off in the future. For both of their sakes.

“What happened to ’you need to take more days off?‘” Dan asked, teasing the woman who stood before him. She rolled his eyes.

“Well I hired someone to take your place but now you’ve gone and seduced him.” She huffed, her fists on her hips. “I meant you needed more days off with people who didn’t work here!”

Dan found that hard to argue with. Technically, she was right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Ugh, it’s fine. I’ll find someone.” She hit a few buttons on the register, going back to work. “So I’m hoping you were safe when you-”

“Louise!”

“What? I’m just making sure…” She shot him a loving glance and then walked off. He didn’t know exactly how she could tell that he had that kind of night, but if it was written all over his face, he assumed she of all people could read it. And because Phil wrote it in the first place, it must have been good.

“You’re saying you want an entire weekend and a Monday off?” Louise asked, her mouth open and her eyebrows up higher than Dan had ever seen them. “The both of you?”

It had been two months since Dan had met Phil and things were going more fantastical since the beginning. After their first night together, Dan went home after his long shift and took a shower, starting to worry that maybe he was moving too fast. But when he got a text from Phil telling him that he missed his presence and that he wished he had someone to play Mario Kart with, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. Phil was just as into Dan as he was into Phil and it happened rapidly fast. Soon, Dan barely saw his flat and by the second week, he knew that after a long shift with or without Phil, he would end up over at Phil’s anyway.

Now, at two months, they knew each other better than they knew themselves - save for a few things. Things that Dan never tried to pressure for and thank goodness Phil didn’t push for his own skeletons in his closet. Their relationship was synonymous to an adventure novel - or so Dan thought. Phil swept him off his feet and kissed him passionately whenever he got the chance. He romanced Dan’s socks off and had a way with words that only his favorite writer could possess. Their sex was passionate and loving and every time Dan looked into Phil’s glistening eyes, he knew that Phil Lester was a wonder of a man. He single-handedly helped Dan take the simplicity of his plain life and spice it up into a novel of its own.

And that’s why Dan thought he’d return the favor.

For weeks, Dan has been talking about taking Phil away, somewhere he could think and possibly get back into the hobby that made Dan fall for Phil all those years ago. Even though Dan was falling faster everyday, dare he say in love, he still longed for Phil’s writing and now that it was almost Christmas time, he wanted to give Phil the gift of a lifetime.

“It’s just three days Lou. Come on. Didn’t you just hire that new guy, PJ?” Dan nudged her side. “And plus, when have I ever asked?”

“That’s why I’m appalled,” She shook her head, but a smile was fighting its way through her pursed lips. “I hate to say I told you so but…” She looked him right in the eye. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, so can we have off?” Dan asked again, pulling Phil closer to his side, having nearly forgotten he was standing right there in the first place. Louise looked at Phil who was no doubt grinning beside him, his sunshine of a smile sure to work wonders. With a sigh and the roll of her eyes, she nodded.

“Consider it an early Christmas gift,” she grumbled, looking back down at the task she had been doing before Dan and Phil had come up and asked her. “Where are you going anyway?”

“That, I can’t tell you,” Dan teased, glancing at Phil who crossed his arms and pouted because Dan had been very clear, he was not to know where they were going until they got there. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

She looked at the two of them and shook her head once more. “You guys make me sick.”

Dan just grinned and went back to work with Phil at his side.

“I’m sorry I’m running late. I’m just figuring a few things out. I’ll be there in an hour. Sorry Sorry!” Phil said over the phone to Dan who was literally sitting on his suitcase by his front door. Excited was an understatement. He hadn’t been on a real vacation in so long. Even though it was a week before Christmas, he was excited to spend the holiday with his boyfriend.

“That’s okay. I’m keeping myself busy anyway,” Dan lied.

“No, you aren’t. Stop waiting at the door like a lost puppy. Go read a book or something,” Phil said, probably regretting it because every time he said that, he knew Dan would listen, picking up one of the few novels he had written in the past and re-reading it. “One that isn’t mine.”

Dan whined but he agreed and went to find something a little less interesting. No book could be as interesting as Phil’s.

When Phil finally arrived, he was still a half hour later than he had mentioned being on the phone. When Dan went down to meet him on the sidewalk he was prepared to playfully scold the boy but instead he was greeted with a very grim face on his beloved who seemed to be a bit out of it.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” Dan said, first thing, getting it out of the way before they even started to walk to the train station.

“Nothing…it’s just been a rough day. I’m ready for this vacation though,” he smiled, pulling Dan into his side. Dan let the warmth of his own body comfort his boyfriend who was drooping a little more than usual today.

Here was the thing about Phil Lester. Everything about him was adventurous and spontaneous, except there was this one thing. This one thing that he never told Dan about. Dan never asked but when Phil described the thing that made him late all the time or that kept him occupied for more than one day at a time, he never gave Dan the full story. He just said it was important and that he would explain later. Phil was the kind of person that would tell Dan anything but he wouldn’t tell him this. Dan knew that must mean it was a big deal. But what could be so terrible that Phil would want to hide it from Dan? Phil knew he could trust Dan with anything. It’s not like Dan had ever judged him before. Did he have another job? Some sort of illness he needed to take care of? Another boyfriend?

Dan always made sure to stop his train of thought before it got to that point because he knew that Phil was faithful to him. There was nothing wrong with secrets. Especially if they’re painful to talk about. So Dan respected Phil’s space and didn’t ask whenever Phil showed up with the sunken-in eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept or the shaking hands that suggested he had been fidgeting a ton. He just pulled Phil close and told him it was okay, understanding that when Phil was ready, he would share that part of his life.

They walked down the pavement in silence as Phil pulled himself together and Dan swung their laced hands to cheer up his partner.

He also told Phil to wait on the platform while he went and bought their tickets, just so Phil wouldn’t know where they were headed. Phil was usually the one that decided where to go, but this weekend, Dan was calling the shots. He wanted to show Phil something he’d never shown anyone. Something almost as personal as Phil’s writing was. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Phil to start writing again.

They shuffled on the train, Dan making sure Phil couldn’t see any signs revealing their destination, and then they were both leaning on each other while the train moved away from the city of London.

“Dan…is this Manchester?” Phil said as he looked out the window. They were almost to the city and he started realizing that his surprise was going to reveal itself pretty soon. Dan shifted in his seat and nodded when Phil’s blue eyes were on him. “Like…your hometown?”

“Yeah…” Dan said, a smirk on his lips. “What other Manchester is there?”

Phil chuckled and looked out the window again.

“I just mean…like…why Manchester?” Phil asked.

“Because you’ve shown me so much of your past through your writing. I want to show you mine.”

Phil turned and looked at him with his favorite glance. The one where his eyes lit up and it made Dan’s heart flutter.

But then his face changed to one of worry and Dan panicked. Had he made the wrong choice? Did he say something too forward?

“Where are we staying?”

“Um…just my house. I don’t live too far from here I-”

“Dan!” Phil’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet your parents. Oh God…” Phil looked like he was panicking and as flattering as it was that Phil was nervous about the possibility of making the wrong impression, Dan’s laugh flicked him out of his little attack.

“They aren’t there. They go on holiday every year the week before Christmas to see my Grandma. My brother is on holiday as well. Even the dog is away. It’s just us.” He reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. Phil took a sigh of relief and he allowed himself to blush. “Come on, Phil. We’ve been dating two months. It’s a little weird for me to bring you home just yet. I’m sure you’ve thought the same about your own parents.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Phil said, the dark and gloomy cloud falling over him once again. Dan hoped it wasn’t because he had insulted Phil or something. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of their relationship, he just wasn’t sure how his parents would feel about him bringing someone home after not seeing them for so long. He really had to get over that. Some people were far less fortunate and couldn’t see their parents all the time. He told himself then that he would put more effort in the relationship. Maybe he’d call them on Christmas and wish them happy holidays.

The train stopped and Dan ushered him and his boyfriend up. They were to get on one more bus and then they will have arrived at Dan’s childhood home. No person, not even some of Dan’s ‘friends’ had been to his childhood home. It was something he was rather protective about. It was where he spent a lot of time holed up indoors reading or playing Final Fantasy until he had enough and fell asleep. His brother was far too young to be a proper companion and when he really thought about it, he kept mostly to himself for a majority of his life there. Hence why the place had so much history for him. This house was his sacred place and his room was his best friend - before he started reading Phil’s books that is.

“Thanks for taking me here, Dan,” Phil said as they were approaching Dan’s front door. “I know how much of a big deal this is for you.”

“That’s okay. It’s really nothing,” Dan lied, constantly flabbergasted that Phil somehow knew exactly what he was thinking before he even had to say a word. He unlocked the door to the house and they stepped inside.

As expected, it was empty and Dan started up the stairs immediately, heading for his bedroom where he would put their stuff. Phil followed of course and instead of Dan’s innocent plan of exploring the house and showing Phil the things of the past, Phil kicked the door closed and pushed Dan into his twin bed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Phil said from above him, sharing a kiss with Dan’s eager lips.

“Oh yeah? And what else did you want to do?”

Phil smirked and their clothes were on the floor in an instant.

Their Saturday was relaxing. After their little escapade in the bedroom, Dan finally got to show Phil around. Although a lot of his things were no longer there, he explained every little detail to Phil. He even showed Phil the patch of carpet that he had his first existential crisis on. Phil laughed and they both laid down to try it. It didn’t end in crisis, however, it did end in a tickle fight.

Phil knew Dan’s other motive for bringing him here. He knew that Dan wanted Phil to get away from that big scary thing that he knew nothing about and focus on his own brain. Dan had suggested to him millions of times that perhaps the reason he couldn’t focus on his writing was that he was dealing with all the shit that came with this huge secret. So at the end of the night, when they were happily sitting inside beside a fireplace that held so many Christmas memories for Dan, Phil pulled out a spiral notebook and started jotting a few things down. Not a lot, but enough that Dan could tell Phil was making headway. It warmed Dan’s heart. So he curled up beside Phil with his little mug of hot chocolate and watched the fire in the company of his favorite person in his childhood home.

Sunday was a whirlwind. It started off nice when Dan made Phil a rock star breakfast. He found eggs and bacon and toast, brewing coffee and cutting up some oranges for his dear Phil who was still in bed and planned on being there for the rest of the day. He piled everything on a tray and they had a three-hour breakfast in bed that they always talked about. Phil looked so happy, munching on his toast and forking through his eggs. Dan couldn’t believe he was sharing this moment in the tiniest of beds with the person with the biggest heart. He was so incredulously happy.

That is until Phil’s phone rang. Dan reached over and grabbed it from the side table, handing it to his boyfriend who had a mouth full of bacon, and he squinted at the caller ID. Without his glasses or his contacts, his eyes were useless.

He picked up the unknown number and his face went pale.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand…I uh…yeah, I can…” Phil’s hand had gripped his fork in a painful manner before it dropped to the tray. “Sure thing. I’ll be there in four hours.” Dan’s eyes went wide and he looked at Phil with a piece of toast hanging from his lip. Phil was already scooting past Dan and putting pants on. “Thank you so much….yeah I’ll be there…okay bye.”

There was a moment of silence as Phil held his phone in his hand and he looked at Dan. Dan knew this had to do with that huge secret that Phil never mentioned and this wouldn’t have been a big deal if this wasn’t Dan’s first holiday since he’d dropped from Uni.

Phil looked like he didn’t want to explain but that wasn’t going to cut it this time. He couldn’t just promise whoever was on the phone that he was going to take a train back immediately without telling his boyfriend what was going on.

“Phil…” Dan took a stab at being calm and collected, even though he was beyond irritated. His bubble of bliss had just popped and now they were at a standstill.

Phil’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes getting slightly watery, but he hung his head and nodded. “I really have to go.”

Dan blinked. No other explanation. Not even an apology.

“I’ll come with you.” Dan hopped out of bed and started looking for his own pants that had somehow ended up being thrown last night. He had to admit, his tone was pretty bitter, but it was important that Phil knew he was kind of salty. Especially because he had been looking forward to this getaway for weeks. It was Dan’s Christmas gift to Phil after all. He wanted Phil to enjoy it.

“No, Dan, it’s best you didn’t.” Phil was now shoving things in his suitcase and his hands were shaking.

“We said we’d spend the weekend together! I’m coming with you,” Dan insisted, packing his suitcase as well. Phil zipped his up and took a second to stare at Dan who was furiously scrunching clothes and pushing them into his black suitcase.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Dan stopped packing and he stared at the shirt that was crumpled in his hand now.

“I can just meet you back in London,” Phil tried. “I’ll explain later.”

What the hell was so important that it turned Phil into this vague mess that just left during their personal holiday?

“No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” Phil turned around and his grip on his suitcase handle tightened.

“You won’t tell me later. You never do,” Dan said, his voice laced with some form of hurt that Phil certainly detected. “When will you tell me what’s going on?”

Phil looked overwhelmed and maybe Dan shouldn’t have pushed him. On a regular day, this didn’t bother him. On a regular day, he was sympathetic. But today, he had taken off work for this holiday and Phil should have taken off from whatever it was he did in his spare time. This was time he should have been spending with Dan.

So when Phil gave Dan one last glance of sorrow and turned around to leave, Dan waited until he heard the front door shut before he threw himself into the pillow and cried. He knew he was dramatic but this wasn’t fair. He loved Phil and he knew Phil loved him back, just not enough to keep him from leaving.

He ended up going back to London early. He couldn’t bear the idea of sitting in an empty house alone. Not again. It was just too quiet. So with his tail between his legs, he called Louise and told her that he was available to work on Monday. She didn’t ask any questions but he was sure they were coming when she told him he could come in and work his usual Monday shift. He was glad that she at least offered him a means of distraction.

He arrived at The Brew Bean with a frown and Louise shook her head, leaving the new boy - PJ - at the counter so she could chat with Dan in the back. She wasn’t interested when Dan was happy, but suddenly she wanted to know everything.

“…and he just left. He didn’t even offer an explanation,” Dan explained the whole story, his head in his hands as he sat on a cardboard box in the back. “I don’t know what to do. I love him but if this thing is more important than me, I don’t know if I can continue dating someone who leaves me so quickly for something else. Let alone someone who won’t share everything.”

Louise was strangely silent. She looked sympathetic but didn’t offer any advice until he was done moping. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed. He was on the verge of tears.

“I offered to go with him this time and he flat out told me he didn’t want me around,” Dan cried, his voice quivering. He noticed Louise’s silence and he looked up through his shaggy haircut. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

She fiddled with her yellow dress.

“I may or may not know where Phil’s always off to…” Louise spoke softly and gently, much like you would to a child. “But I don’t think I can tell you.”

“Louise!” Dan looked up at her with desperate eyes. “You have to tell me! Come on! He’s known you for two months and I’ve known you for years! Please!”

Begging was unbecoming but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

She looked unsure of herself like she was about to spill something that was bigger than both of them.

“Please, Louise…please.”

After another short moment of silence, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet the desperate eyes that blinked back at her.

“Phil’s mother is dying.”

Dan’s brain short circuited.

“She’s what?”

Louise knew that Dan had heard her and she didn’t repeat what she had just said. She could tell that it was hitting him.

“During the interview I asked him if there was anything that might get in the way of a job like this and he mentioned that his mother was in pretty bad shape, cancer I think, and he said that he has been taking care of her for a good while now,” Louise explained softly. “I think that’s why he needed the job in the first place. To pay for the medicines and hospital visits.”

“Wait…how sick is she?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. I haven’t talked to him about it since that day. I think he’d prefer nobody to find out.”

“But…but why didn’t he just tell me that?”

Louise shook her head. “I don’t know but listen, you should cut him some slack. I’m sure it’s really hard.”

Dan nodded and watched as his boss got up and pat his shoulder before walking off. He stayed where he was and reflected on everything that had happened in the past few months. All the times that Phil was late, all the times that he had to quickly run out from a date, all the times he had mentioned that things had changed a lot in recent years. He never explained the roommate that lived upstairs, he never explained the phone calls he always had to take in the morning, and he never ever talked about his parents. This must be why he was so afraid to meet Dan’s.

Part of him felt horrible. Like he had made the biggest mistake in his life. He had been rude to Phil when all he was doing was caring for his mother. He should have trusted Phil. But the other side of Dan felt hurt. Why wouldn’t Phil want to mention something so huge to his boyfriend who proved that he cared immensely? He would never judge Phil for something like this, even if it meant that Phil had a more important place to be some of the time. He wished that Phil had told him so he could have been more understanding than he was.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. He was the asshole who yelled at a man who’s mother was dying.

Something he didn’t expect was to see Phil that day. He was working the counter, handing some old man his change when the bells jingled and in came a person that looked a lot like Phil, but was clearly just a mess of tears and worry. As soon as Phil caught Dan’s glance, he looked terrified. As if he expected Dan to be in Manchester still, by himself. Dan wanted Phil to know that he wasn’t mad at him and that it was an honest mistake, but he wasn’t supposed to know about what was happening with Phil, so he couldn’t explain. He just smiled and watched as the boy hesitantly walked up to the counter.

“Hey,” he started, his eyes wavering with contact.

“Hey,” Dan answered, his hands fumbling with the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry…” Phil said, his voice broken and battered. He had done a lot of crying, clearly, and with the urgency in which he left Manchester, something terrible must have happened. Dan wanted to tell Phil that it was all okay and that he was totally right for leaving, but instead he just untied his apron, walked around the counter and to where Phil was standing, engulfing him in the tightest hug that he could manage. Phil’s conscious brain might not have understood why, but his body did. It folded when Dan’s chest hit Phil’s and the older boy was now racking with sobs. Last week, this would have been startling behavior, but this was completely okay and Dan knew he needed the support. Even if Phil wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Hey…shhh…it’s okay, Phil,” Dan hushed, whispering in the older boy’s ear while he combed his fingers through his hair. “How about I take you to my place and we cuddle for a while?”

Dan had never invited Phil back to his place. He had no reason to. Phil’s place was much closer and the bed was comfier. But Dan had the inclination that Phil might not want to go back to his own place and when the suggestion was made, Phil stilled before nodding slowly.

“Let me just let Louise know, okay?” Dan said, gently breaking them apart and finally taking in the full vision of Phil standing before him. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn the day before, his shirt wrinkled and his hands hanging lower than usual. Dan was careful not to jostle him as he stepped backward. He flashed him one more glance that told him to stay put, and then turned rather quickly to find his boss.

“We’re almost there,” Dan mentioned as he stroked Phil’s shoulder on the way to his flat. The bus was a lot quieter in the late afternoon than it was around lunch time and Dan was secretly thankful they missed the rush. Phil did not seem together enough to handle the chaos that was London during break hours. In fact, he was getting startled by every little thing. He clearly hadn’t slept and his nerves were acting up.

Phil nodded in response to Dan’s mention, but his head barely moved. Dan thanked the Universe that he even noticed.

They got off the bus and Dan led his boyfriend up to his flat, not even thinking about the state it was in. He hadn’t cleaned in ages. Granted, he never really stayed long enough to make much of a mess. He was sure that aside from the clothes on his bedroom floor and maybe a few books out on the coffee table, his place was in perfect order. The layer of dust over everything wasn’t visible and Phil probably wouldn’t notice. At least not today.

“Here, I’m going to get you some water and you can go lay down…” Dan said as he locked his front door. Phil was silently taking in the place he had just entered but he turned to Dan with thankful eyes. “My bedroom is the door at the end of the hall…” He pointed and spun his broken love around. “I think I made the bed…”

Phil shuffled back to Dan’s bedroom while Dan fixed him a glass of water. He probably hadn’t had anything proper to eat in the past 24 hours so he snagged a granola bar as well before heading back to see Phil.

If not under these circumstances, he probably would have taken a picture of what Phil looked like right then. Even at his worst, Phil was still beautiful. He was curled in on himself with his head on Dan’s pillow. His eyes were shut and his hands were delicately resting beside his face. Dan wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a situation like this, but he placed the glass of water and the granola bar on the side table and he walked over to the other side of the resting boy. He climbed into the bed and like a big spoon, encased Phil into his arms. Phil was awake enough to shuffle himself into Dan’s embrace and Dan took that as a good sign. To Phil’s knowledge, Dan knew nothing about where he had gone.

Even in the state he was in, Phil could still read Dan’s mind. He had been quiet for so long that his voice pierced the air like broken glass on a concrete floor.

“My mum has Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer…”

Dan’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t a medical professional but he didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the words metastatic and cancer were bad news. His arms tightened a little around Phil but he said nothing, letting the other boy continue.

“…at the end of July the doctors said it reached stage four and that means she only had…” Phil swallowed. “…only had six months left and-” He nearly swallowed his own words. “They called yesterday and said she might not make it through Chri-”

Phil couldn’t finish. His breaths were shallow. His heart was beating so fast that Dan was sure it might explode there in his arms. Dan was shocked. He knew cancer was bad and that it was painful for everyone involved, but this seemed impossible. Phil was a hero. No wonder he hadn’t written anything in so long. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it.

They laid there in silence for what felt like hours. It could have just been minutes but Phil’s body never stopped trembling. Dan was letting his hand run through Phil’s black hair and his chest was pressed as close to Phil’s ribcage as physically possible. He hoped that his heart could beat strong enough for the both of them.

They fell asleep like that, Dan thought, because a few hours later he was being awoken again by a meek voice that was no louder than a whisper.

“Dan?” Phil was right next to his ear and Dan blinked his eyes open.

“Hm?” He instinctively hugged his boyfriend tighter and smiled into his hair.

“I love you.”

Dan was definitely not expecting that string of words right now but he didn’t care. He had been dying to hear them. Ever since they’d met. Call him crazy, but Phil was the one.

“I love you too, Phil,” he responded quickly, knowing how scary those words could be sometimes. “Are you okay?”

Phil nodded and he cuddled himself into Dan’s embrace just a little bit more. Dan wouldn’t let go until Phil was ready to be let go. And if that was never, well, then the two would rot here on this bed until his landlord dragged them out himself.

Dan called out of work for the both of them that next day because he wanted to be with Phil and Phil clearly couldn’t be anywhere else. He had gone on to explain how painful it was to be at home when his mother was in the hospital. Apparently she was just admitted, right before they had left for their vacation. That was why it had taken so long for Phil to meet Dan that day. Phil had to fill out more paperwork than he thought. Poor Phil was probably thinking about it the entire time they were away.

Phil also explained that his mother had progressed into her illness very rapidly. She was apparently just fine only two years ago. This made Dan’s heart lurch, especially because he didn’t talk much to his family. If anything made him feel guilty, it was hearing that something like this could happen, and quickly too.

He sat with Phil in bed all day, listening to him talk out the things that were probably trapped in his own head for months and months. Phil was spilling out the details of the treatments and the words doctors had thrown his way. He spent some time telling Dan about his mother and how kind and loving she was. He told Dan about all the great things she had done and all his childhood memories. Dan didn’t even know the woman, but he was sad to lose her. Apparently his dad had died a long time ago and Phil didn’t remember much about him. He explained that he was glad because he really couldn’t handle two premature parent deaths.

Once Phil was all talked-out, Dan was feeling rather sleepy. This was partially because he had stayed up much longer than Phil the night before, making sure that he was okay. Dan was still curled up next to Phil when his eyes started to flutter. He just barely got a glimpse of Phil pulling out a little notebook from his jacket pocket and clicking his pen before he drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

“Dan!” Phil woke his boyfriend with a bigger smile than Dan had seen on Phil all week. This alarmed him as he jolted awake and into awareness, looking at the boy before him with big, red, crusty eyes. “Dan I did it!”

Phil looked like he hadn’t slept a wink but he didn’t looked pained. He actually glowed. He looked like he was actually proud of something. Like he had done something that Dan would be proud of.

“Did what?” Dan rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking into Phil’s lap where he found a little notebook that held at least twenty pages of scribbles. The corner of Dan’s mouth went up when he realized what Phil was about to tell him.

“I have an idea for my next book! I wrote out an outline…” Phil gestured to the many pages of scribbles that Dan didn’t want to read because he genuinely didn’t want spoilers, but he did look up at Phil’s sparkling eyes that had regained a little light, and he let the crinkles next to his show.

“I’m so proud of you!” Dan praised, meaning every word. This must have taken a lot of creative energy but as Phil had explained, writing was his outlet and maybe because he let out some of the stuff that was floating around his head for so long, he was able to make room for the creative flow. “I get to be the first to read it when it’s complete, right?”

Phil nodded, understanding that he was dating his biggest fan and of course he wouldn’t be allowed to release it without his boyfriend’s blessing.

“I really like this one actually…I think…” Phil blushed. “I think you will too.”

Dan gave him a glare that meant 'of course I’ll like it, you wrote it,’ and then grabbed the proud boy in his arms, attacking him with kisses.

“Did you stay up all night to write this?” Dan asked after kissing Phil at least 23 times, a lick of concern leaking out of his tone.

“Yeah, and you’re really cute when you’re asleep, did you know that?”

“Shut up…” Dan tried not to smile but it came through. Phil was acting like Phil again and he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He knew that Phil struggled to keep his bubbly personality, even through everything that was going on, but this seemed genuine. He seemed like he was being himself – for the time being at least. “Want some breakfast?”

“Sure. What are we having?” Phil asked.

“Well, unless you want to eat moldy toast and expired jam, I think we have to go out,” Dan stretched his arms above his head and Phil took advantage of the slight sight of tummy, tickling it and blowing a very sloppy raspberry. Dan giggled and in retaliation, he ended up blowing a raspberry on Phil’s lips, only leading to a very heated make-out session that ended in morning sex.

Pancakes always did the trick, or at least for Phil. Phil had had bad days before and Dan knew the remedy was always pancakes and coffee. Although it wasn’t really the healthiest meal to eat after barely eating anything, it was something and it would keep Phil’s tummy the way it was – nice and plump – for Dan.

“So tell me about your new book.” Dan put his chin in his hands and leaned over the table like some lovesick puppy. “Does Striker go on another adventure and take down an evil horse-lord.”

Phil laughed and shook his head. He had a chunk of pancake in his mouth so he held a finger up and told Dan to wait.

“No, no. Not another horse-lord. Horses freak me out, remember?”

“Yeah. I do. That’s why it was evil,” Dan answered, smirking. “Duh.”

“You really are Phil Trash #1.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Phil, we’ve been over this. I probably know your books better than you do. Come on, spill. What’s Striker doing next?”

“Well if you know my book better than I do, then you should know,” Phil teased, pointing his fork at Dan. “And you don’t really want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

Dan sighed. Of course he didn’t. But getting Phil to talk about his passions was one of Dan’s favorite things and since he’d met the older boy, the passion had not been writing. This was the first they had talked about it in weeks. Dan wanted to know everything he could if Phil was willing to chat about it.

“Okay, fine, just tell me this. Is Samuel in this one?” This was a very cheeky question and Dan asked it with a knowing smile. At this point, Dan knew that he was Phil’s muse for Samuel. Even though the books were written before Phil met Dan, it was like Samuel was perfectly molded to be Dan. Not to mention, at the end of the last book, Samuel was officially invited to join Striker on his newest quest. So Dan and Phil both knew Samuel would have to be a giant part of Phil’s next book. And if Striker was Phil, then Samuel was Dan and if Dan was being honest, he was excited to read how Phil wrote Sam in the next novel.

“You’ll just have to wait and see…” Phil alluded, his smile revealing it all.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

But they both knew that’s not what they meant.

They were walking back from their little breakfast place when Phil’s phone rang in his pocket. As soon as Dan heard the ring, he tensed up. The last time he got this call, Phil left him without any explanation. He hoped it wasn’t the same kind of call but at the same time, he hoped that if it was, Phil would at least fill him in.

They stopped in the middle of the pavement and Phil dug the device from his pocket, his hand visibly shaking as he answered it.

“Hello?” He stared at anywhere but Dan as he listened to the person on the other end. His face gave nothing away as he nodded and released a few quiet 'mmhmm’s, Dan nearly dying of curiosity. But then Phil hung up and he finally looked at Dan with tears in his eyes.

So it was that kind of call.

“Phil…if you need to go, you ca-”

“Come with me,” Phil said, his voice breaking.

“What?”

“Come with me,” Phil said again, stepping closer and grabbing Dan’s hands. “Please. I…I don’t want to do th-” He stopped, looked at his feet and then back into Dan’s eyes. “I can’t do this alone.”

Dan nodded and suddenly they were briskly walking down the London street. Thank God they were within blocks of the hospital and Phil wasn’t subject to an entire bus ride of anticipation. It was still rather early in the day for Dan to be walking this fast, but for Phil he would do anything.

They arrived at the hospital in under ten minutes, the nurse at the desk giving Phil a nod of understanding when he walked right past. This made Dan sad because that must have meant that Phil had been in here an awful lot for the nurse to recognize the man.

Phil walked the white hospital halls, Dan trailing behind, as Phil navigated the place like it was his home. Another thing that made Dan’s heart clench. He could see the way the staff looked in Phil’s direction, a glance of sympathy here and there, every now and then a nurse would mutter a “hello” or a “good to see you.” This made Dan very uncomfortable. He wanted to be there for Phil but he wasn’t sure he was built for a place as grim as this.

Phil finally stopped at a door that was closed, taking a deep breath and swiveling on his feet toward Dan.

“You uh…don’t have to come in…if you don’t want,” he offered, but his eyes told him he did, so Dan shook his head and smiled.

“If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Dan was already here. He might as well commit.

Phil responded with a weak smile and he nodded, letting go of Dan’s loose grip and reaching for the handle.

There was no experience, movie or book, that could compare to what he saw in the room they entered. Phil walked in slowly and carefully and Dan did his best to mimic his partner’s steps. When he finally got a glimpse of the hospital bed and the woman in it, he almost cried himself. The woman was frail and thin, something you would expect from an older lady, but this was Phil’s mum. She couldn’t have been older than 60 and yet she looked like she had lived ten lifetimes. Her closed eyes had sunken in and turned purple, the bone of her nose nearly poking through the weathered skin, and her lips barely had any color at all. Dan was sure that if this woman had any resemblance to Phil, it was long gone now. Her fingers laid still on her chest and her breathing released a slow hiss when it left her nose. Tons of little wires went from one device to another, some spitting liquid in and from the body on the bed. It looked like she didn’t even notice, her somewhat peaceful sleep was deep and most likely medically induced.

Dan shot Phil a glance that meant more than comfort. He tried to tell Phil that he was so sorry. So sorry that this was happening. So sorry that Phil had to go through this tragic process.

“M-Mum?” Phil’s voice shook when he spoke, as if he would break her fragile ears with his tender tone. He sat himself in the chair that was clearly there for him and him only, grabbing his mother’s hand with the softest of touches. “Mum can you hear me?”

Dan wasn’t about to say anything at all, but he wondered how conscious his mother actually was. Phil hadn’t told him much about her state and how lucid she was at this stage of the cancer. He watched and was actually a little startled when his mum’s darkened eyes opened slowly in Phil’s direction.

And that’s when Dan saw the resemblance. She had the same eyes. Blue and bright and full of life. Dan’s heart sank when he realized that Phil had once seen her when she mimicked this trait all over. Her heart monitor beeped, signaling a change in pace.

“Oh Phil…honey…” Her voice was like rust on glass, painful to listen to but impossible not to hear. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mum. I’m really good,” Phil answered, his voice broken and his lip was quivering.

“You look like you haven’t…” She took a breath. “…slept.”

“I have. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Phil looked down at the hand he was holding, the frail and boney one that was nearly half the size of his own. “I’ve brought someone today that I’d like you to meet.”

Dan froze.

“His name is Dan and I work with him,” Phil explained, reaching for Dan who was standing as far out of the way as possible. “Come here, Dan. Come meet my mum.”

Dan smiled and inched toward’s Phil and his mum who was now turning her head an inch so that she could see him. Her face that was looking so dearly at Phil, mustered an expression of joy when her eyes landed on Dan’s features.

“Why he looks just like Sa-” She coughed, nodding and letting it pass. “Samuel.” Phil laughed a little, the blush on his face prominent. “Are you sure you didn’t write him yourself?”

Dan didn’t know why it hadn’t dawned on him before. Of course Phil’s mum read Phil’s books. She was probably a bigger fan than Dan was. And she most likely knew that Phil was Striker. So this was not just a reference to Phil’s novels, his mother was calling him out as his boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lester,” Dan bowed his head a little and she seemed delighted. “I’ve heard so many great things about you.”

“Are you taking good care of…my son?” She asked, her breath running short towards the end of the sentence.

“I sure am. Don’t worry,” Dan nodded. He wasn’t lying. Phil was in the right hands. At least Dan hoped he was.

Phil’s mum turned back over to Phil and she closed her eyes.

“Phil…” She breathed, the monitor alerting everyone that her heart was slowing. “Phil I like him.”

Phil was smiling but there were tears rolling down his cheeks and he was wiping them as fast as he could with his other hand. The blue of his eyes seemed to pop when the rest of his face was so red.

“Me too, Mum…me too.”

“I love you so much, Darling…” She coughed. “I lo-” She coughed again, her hand grasping at her chest.

“I love you too, Mum…I love you so much.”

Dan felt like he shouldn’t be here for this moment. Like he had walked in on an extremely intimate scene that he was not supposed to witness. But then Phil glanced at Dan with eyes brimmed with tears and he knew he had to be here. Phil needed him now more than ever so he sat in the chair next to Phil’s and rubbed Phil’s back as he talked to his mother.

“Promise me…” She breathed. “…you’ll keep writing.”

Phil nodded, his thumb rubbing over his mother’s withering hand.

“Don’t cry, Dear…” She reached up with her shaky hand, wiping a tear from Phil’s cheek. “I want to see you s-…” Her hand dropped to the bed. “…smile.”

“Mum-” Phil started, his voice breaking.

“Please, Philly. Smile for me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. It sounded like a gust of wind that could be words if you really listened.

Phil could do nothing but wipe his tears with his jacket sleeve and he smiled for his mother who watched with a faint smile of her own.

“You have such a beautiful…” A cough escaped her lips and it was barely a puff of air. “…smile.”

And that’s when it happened. Phil’s mum’s heart monitor screeched with a signal of what Dan assumed was the end. Phil’s mum’s eyes had closed and her hand fell limp in Phil’s grasp. Phil’s smile, as forced as it was, was long gone. All that was left were heart-wrenching sobs that filled the room while the nurses came rushing in. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done and Dan could only watch as Phil broke down on top of his incredibly beautiful mother.

Wearing a suit and tie was usually reserved for fancy events. Events that required a little sultry and grace. But a funeral was the only event that made a suit look drab. Dan fixed his tie and glanced at his appearance in the mirror. Most joked that his wardrobe was much like a walking funeral but when it came time to actually mourn the death of someone close, it never felt that he was comfortably dressed.

He left his apartment and took a cab to Phil’s. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with strangers asking why he was dressed up. It wasn’t even his mother and he felt like it was too personal.

Phil had cried for hours after they left the hospital. He was a wreck and Dan couldn’t blame him. He had been close with his mother and losing her was probably the most painful thing he could have ever imagined. But Dan was there for him, if not only because he promised Phil’s mum, but because he loved the boy and it hurt him to see Phil this way.

But Phil’s brother had flown in to be with Phil before the funeral and Dan hadn’t seen Phil in two days. Phil had explained how his brother was a very busy man who ran multiple companies and four separate websites. He didn’t have a lot of time to come visit their mother, but apparently if he had known she was in such bad shape, he would have come sooner. Phil didn’t blame Martyn for any of it, he just needed someone there to talk him through all the paperwork. Someone who might know what to do more than Dan would. Martyn sounded like he was collected and organized – the perfect man for the job.

But today was the funeral and of course, Dan was going to be next to Phil the entire day. He couldn’t imagine the pain that Phil was going through. If he and his presence at a morbid event cheered up the love of his life, then he was there in a heartbeat.

Funerals always felt like they lasted forever and with Phil sobbing on his shoulder during the entire ceremony, it was a wonder he had the energy for the post funeral reception that was apparently occurring at Phil’s house.

Dan had learned that Phil’s mum did indeed live with Phil. Her room was on the main floor and that’s why Phil was pretty much secluded to the basement. Unless he needed to cook or leave the house, he had everything he needed down there. It made perfect sense that the reception would be held around all of his mother’s objects. This way, the family members could all gather and collect what was most important to them.

Dan, however, did not expect to lose Phil halfway through the party, only to find him curled on his bed, much like he had been curled on his own only a week and a half prior.

“Phil…” Dan said, his softest voice activated, his tone no harsher than a child’s. “Phil are you okay?”

Phil shook his head and Dan swallowed.

“Aw…come here.” Dan collected the broken man into his arms and he could feel his heart pound woefully in his chest for the weeping man. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I’m so so sorry.”

Phil cried into Dan’s leg for some time, his tears threatening to ruin Dan’s suit, but that was the least of his worries. His one goal was to give Phil everything he needed today. Today and forever.

But hiding in the basement could only last so long when you’re hosting a reception. Eventually, the two were called up for a family meeting that Dan was allowed to sit in for. It was basically just Phil, his brother and a few of his cousins, there to discuss the contents of Catherine’s will. It was extraordinarily uncomfortable for Dan, and Phil didn’t look like he was enjoying it any more. But Dan was there for him and that was what mattered.

When it was time for everyone to leave, Dan said goodbye to Phil and trusted that Phil’s brother would take care of him for a couple days. His brother was staying for a little while – or only until Phil felt like he could handle himself. Dan didn’t want to leave, but he figured it was best. Phil needed the time with family.

But that proved to be one of the biggest mistakes of Dan’s life.

He kissed Phil goodbye and then headed back to his own flat where he got a good night’s rest. He sure as hell wished he had known that would be the last one for a while.

“He what?” Dan asked Louise as she stood before him a couple weeks later. “Did he tell you why?”

“He called and quit. That’s all he said. Dan, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t seen him,” Louise said, her voice full of sorrow.

Dan had been trying to reach Phil for two weeks now and the boy hadn’t even turned on his phone. Christmas had come and passed and the new year had begun. Phil’s phone had gone straight to voicemail each and every time. He messaged him on Facebook and got nothing. He even tried contacting Phil’s brother who told him he had left a day after the holiday. Phil was MIA and Dan was starting to get worried.

He wasn’t proud, but he ended up going to Phil’s house that night and he knocked for a full hour. He got nothing. Not even a shuffle from inside. He even went down to Phil’s window in the basement and knocked on that for a while. But there was nothing.

Dan sulked back home, walking the entire way with a sinking feeling.

With updates every now and then from Phil’s brother, telling him that yes, Phil was still alive, Dan went a month and a half without seeing him. He continued to work at The Brew Bean because he needed the money for rent, but he would go home with a frown each and every day.

The worst part about all of this, was that he couldn’t even read his favorite books. Even Striker was no comfort to a loss like this.

Dan understood why Phil needed his time away. Mourning someone was an excruciating process that Dan couldn’t even begin to understand. He had never lost anyone so dear in his life. But Dan was a person as well and even though his pain was nowhere close to Phil’s right now, he felt as though he was mourning a Lester as well. Phil had left his life so suddenly and with every ounce of his being, he wanted to comfort his soulmate from the destruction he was surely facing.

Their relationship was like nothing he had ever experienced. Such passion and adventure was something he only read in Phil’s novels and now that he had a taste, it was painful to think he might never take another bite again.

“With passionate romance came tragic heartbreak.”

A quote that Phil had coined himself in his third book. The only one Dan could bear to read right now. It was all about Striker’s struggle with being away from Samuel. If only he could read the other side. The one where Samuel is left at home while the love of his life is battling demons.

Much like Phil was doing now.

One month turned to two and one day while he was running a very simple yet important errand, his eyes caught a beautifully decorated gold and black book that rested on the “New Releases” pile of Dan’s favorite bookstore. It wasn’t every day that a book actually fit his aesthetic. He sauntered over to it and his eyes nearly popped from his spinning head.

This was a new novel written by nobody other than Phil Lester.

Dan had never bought a book that fast. He contemplated stealing it but that wouldn’t be good for Phil’s sales. He practically ran to the nearest restaurant, he didn’t even care that it was a fancy one that only served wine and overpriced cheese, he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu and turned the book over so he could read the back.

Striker gears up for his next adventure, this time with his trusty companion Samuel. But when disaster strikes in his own backyard, Striker finds that first he must slay the demons inside him before going out and tackling everyone else’s. How will Samuel help Striker on this more than personal adventure of the heart and soul? Can Striker save himself and Samuel from what dwells beneath the skin of his own flesh? What happens when Striker is taken over by the hideous monster inside? Will Samuel be able to save him or will the job prove too much?

Dan could not believe what he was reading. Not only had Phil produced a book in only two months, it had a much different vibe than the rest of his fiction. This one was dark. Even the book itself screamed it’s morbid nature. Phil was crying for help and this book was the start of Dan’s ability to help.

So he cracked the spine of the book and started to read.

Once the book was finished and he tipped the confused waitstaff an enormous amount of money for sitting at the same table for 5 hours, he was out the door and running. Dan couldn’t even remember the last time he ran. It must have been back when he was still in school and his teachers had forced him. But as his hair flopped about and his desire to reach the author of this stunning book increased, he let his pace match. He ran past people and objects and couldn’t even care that his legs burned from the use. He must have ran two miles at least, his forehead beading with the sweat he shed.

When he reached Phil’s residence, he was out of breath and clutching the novel to his chest. He didn’t care how long it took Phil to come to the door, he was coming outside and they were going to talk. Dan was not going to give up that easily.

“Phil!” He knocked loudly with a strong fist. “I know you’re in there! Please! Open up!”

There was nothing, as expected, and Dan just kept knocking.

Soon, he was sitting on the stoop like some sort of crazy human being, knocking at the bottom of the door like it was life or death.

When night fell and dark had cascaded against the London city, he sat clutching the book and contemplating everything. He opened the book to the last page and read the last paragraph again, gaining some comfort from Phil’s words - as always.

Samuel took a breath and cut the head from the last demon, saving Striker once and for all. His lover lied beneath him with a breathless gaze. Samuel had saved his life. He owed everything to the man that was now collecting him in his arms.

“Thank you…” Striker mumbled, his heart beating faster and his lips drawing closer to Samuel’s.

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own, Striker…” He spoke softly and kindly, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder. “But don’t worry. I’ll be here and we can tackle them together.”

Dan hummed in appreciation and he let a few tears fall from his eyes. He knew Phil was miserable without him. If this book was anything to go by, he needed Dan more than Dan thought.

“Please, Phil…” He knocked at the foot of the door a few more times with his swollen fists. “Please, Phil. Let me in.”

As if Phil sniffed Dan’s desperate pleas, the ones right before he would inevitably give up, the lock on the door shifted. Dan was a fool and jumped, getting startled by the sudden change. He scrambled to his feet and kept the book tight against his pounding chest as if it would contain his beating heart.

And when Phil finally opened the door, Dan’s heart melted. He was just as beautiful as Dan remembered – not like that could ever change – but the blue had mellowed from Phil’s eyes and there was something so foreign about his gaze. Dan couldn’t tell if it had changed or if he just couldn’t remember. But either way, Dan wasn’t ever leaving Phil’s side again.

“Hey…” Phil said, his voice quiet and his glance pleaded for Dan to forgive him. If Dan knew anything about Phil, it was that he felt bad about the pain he caused anyone. He probably knew how painful it was for Dan to stand here and see Phil for the first time in two months. He probably knew how painful it was to leave Dan. Because he was dealing with the same pain right now. Dan could see it in his eyes.

Wasting no more time, Dan unclenched the book from his chest and held it out for Phil to see.

“Will you sign my copy?”

Not even he recognized his quiet voice and when Phil saw his hesitant smile, he let one escape his lips as well.

“I’ll do you one better…” Phil reached inside and grabbed something from the table next to the door. “How about the original draft?”

Dan’s chin quivered and the tears were rolling down his cheeks when he saw what Phil had done. On the front of the stack of papers, Phil had taken a red pen to the title: “Samuel and Striker’s Adventure Within” and replaced the names to Dan and Phil.

He stepped inside, not even waiting for an invitation and he grabbed Phil by the waist, connecting their lips. He didn’t even care when he tasted the salt from their tears combined. This was where he belonged. Right by Phil’s side. No matter what.

“Phil?” Dan pulled away, still merely inches from his boyfriend’s lips, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Hm?”

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own.”

#dan and phil #phic #fanfic #phanfic #fic request #fluff #angst #character death #tears #sad #merrydith #worksofphiction #thank you anonymous

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dettiot · 8 years ago

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Arrow Fic: Two Men, Same Name Interlude

Two Men, Same Name Interlude By @dettiot and @melsanfo Rating: T for now Summary: Oliver Queen's path in life is set in stone. Suffocating under the high expectations of his parents while running a company he’s barely interested in. Still, he never fails to disappoint his parents, even when he’s on his best behavior. He’s supposed to settle down, marry well and follow in his father's footsteps, without stepping an inch out of place . . . until a red streak with yellow lightning changes his life forever. Disclaimer: Neither of us own Arrow. If we did, the boys would be shirtless ALL THE TIME. No copyright infringement intended. Author’s Note: Hi, everyone! We really wanted to have the next chapter ready for y'all, since this is the chapter we've been looking forward to the whole fic. But because both Mel_Sanfo and I were at Heroes & Villains Fanfest this weekend, we just ran out of time.

HOWEVER. So many people wanted to see Arrow!Oliver and Goth!Felicity interact, and we loved that idea, so we had written a scene between them to start the chapter. Which would have made Chapter 15 a monster. So we've taken that scene and are posting it now as an interlude, to tide y'all over until we have the 'real' Chapter 15 done.

We hope you enjoy this and we'll have more soon!

XXX

It wasn’t unusual for the foundry to be heavy with tension. As far as Roy Harper was concerned, however, this was far worse than any other time. Oliver had been gloomy and grumpy ever since Blondie had decided to jump universes, to try to give it a go with the other Oliver. But now the man was pissed. Hell, Roy was sure that if he cracked an egg on Oliver’s forehead, it would have fried--he was that mad.

The whole room was a rainbow of reactions, really. Oliver was angry: surprise, surprise there. Diggle wore his usual ‘I’m reserving judgement’ face. Thea was amused, which Roy thought was part of the reason Oliver was so angry. Tommy was in shock; he hadn’t stopped looking shocked since the team had returned.

And then there was Barry, who had happily done a ‘food run’ and covered three of the foundry’s tables with different types of food, from Chinese to cheeseburgers. Between bites of food, he recharged from his multiverse traveling but encouraged everyone else to eat, too, after what they had experienced--and to get through the explanations.

“In recap,” Barry summed up, “so that the multiverse doesn’t implode, or blow up, Felicity here had to come over in place of your former Felicity.”

“That,” Oliver said, pointing at the goth woman, “is not Felicity!”

The dark Felicity looked quite unaffected by all the growling. She was sitting at one of the tables, skillfully eating some chow mein with chopsticks, swinging her legs back and forth like a kid listening to their parents bicker.

It made Roy like her immediately.

She hadn’t said much but clearly was listening to all that was being said--and kept rolling her eyes. It was like she didn’t care that her arrival had blown everyone’s mind. But that just meant things were about to get interesting.

Very interesting.

“Uh, yes. Yes, I am. Felicity Kuttler, that’s me--I said that pretty much the moment you all walked in the door,” she said, sticking the chopsticks in her take-out box. “You know, you really should pay closer attention when someone introduces themselves to you. Trust me, I know who I am,” she added with a Cheshire Cat smile on her dark lips.

Read the rest on AO3.

#arrow fic #olicity fic #my fic #Two Men Same Name #Mel my name twin

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sasusakufestival · 8 years ago

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Metamorphosis

Summary: It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she – he – was not a girl. [Day 13 – Prompt: “It’s A Boy” ]

General Warnings: I can’t believe I need to have a warning for this, but we live in a time where people can be horrid little monsters. There are LGBTQ themes in this story. There is a transgender character, and the story deals with some of concerns and difficulties that families, especially parents, of a transgender child deal with. If you are uncomfortable with this subject matter in anyway, you are welcome to click the “back” button and wait around for my next prompt. Nasty comments about my choice in subject matter will be ignored, and possibly mocked.

Trigger Warning: For those of you who actually are LGBTQ, this story may bring up some strong emotions. My best friend/surrogate brother/braintwin had some difficulty reading this chapter for me and as it hit on some of his own experiences and challenges coming out as transgender. He made sure I knew how important it was to tag this appropriately. Though he said this story was well-written, as someone who had dealt with the scenario personally, he didn’t like it. So if you have experienced something in your life where you are caused distress by reading about parents trying to come to terms with their transgender child do not read this story. I don’t want to cause mental anguish or reopen wounds that some of you might not have had a chance to heal yet.

Author’s Note: The minute I saw this prompt I knew this was the story I was going to write. There aren’t enough fics out there dealing with transgender kids coming out, and even fewer about what the parents (even the most supportive ones) go through behind closed doors. I’ve done my best to be delicate with the subject without sacrificing any of my usual style choices. Obviously, not every experience is the same from individual to individual, but I made every effort. And just to head off any comments about my own personal stand on the matter: I support transgender individuals and their rights. I believe that it is your mind and your soul that determines who you are, not your genitals. And while I am not perfect, and I still occasionally slip up with pronouns and accidentally say things which show my privilege as a cisgender woman, I stand by the transgender community. Especially in this time, when hatred and outrage are directed at across the entire world. The views expressed in this story are not all necessarily mine – in fact, there are several ideas that were difficult for me to put to paper, because I very much don’t agree with them. But based on my research, for good or ill, they are sentiments that have been expressed by parents when a child comes out. I only hope I have managed to treat the subject matter with respect and possibly given you, my readers, something to think on. You may not like Sasuke in this story. You may not like Sakura. That’s okay. I’m hoping to showcase that even the people we care deeply for (whether real or imaginary) can do some things we don’t necessarily like or agree with. Doing the right thing is not always as easy, and some people find it harder than others, but in the end it is worth it. No one should weight their personal discomforts or prejudices against another person’s happiness and right to thrive.

______________________________________________

Sasuke stares up at the large, draping banner in his living room while bunches of blue helium balloons meander along the ceiling, nearly obscuring the clock that ticks closer and closer to the inevitable. He has to consciously rein in the desire to set it all on fire.

He hates parties. Always has, always will. Even knowing that this is for his kid isn’t much of an incentive to relax, because he finds that hard to do under normal circumstances.

Naruto would say that that’s because he’s got a pole shoved up his ass, but then, Naruto’s judgement is questionable. It’s been that way since childhood, JSDF, Iraq and then the stint in the Okayama bomb squad seven years ago which resulted in them both losing an arm.

Then again, his questionable judgement is also the reason Sasuke was even alive to having a kid and throw ridiculous, superhero themed birthday parties in the first place, so he gets a pass.

This time.

The entire foyer has been decorated with streamers and decals of the latest comic craze to hit television. Interspersed along the wall are little cape-clad figures proudly proclaiming, “It’s a Boy!”.

Honestly, it’s utterly kitschy and targeted for a much younger demographic than an eleven-year-old, but then, today isn’t an ordinary birthday.

It’s been four years since Sarada quietly, haltingly confessed to Sasuke and Sakura over dinner that she �� he – was not a girl. It was an announcement which, Sasuke maintains, caused him considerable confusion and, if he’s not lying, a little resentment.

He comes from a traditional background. His ancestors were samurai of note, and the Uchiha name means a lot in their small community of Konoha. An old, founding family with traditions and taboos and expectations. The idea of these “LGBTQ issues” that his wife and child keep talking about falls very naturally under the umbrella of what Sasuke was brought up to categorise as “don’t ask, don’t tell”.

Men and women among the Uchiha may take lovers of the same sex if they wish, as long as they fulfil their duties to the clan: namely get married and produce children. Hell, his own brother has been in a twenty-year relationship with a male masseuse, but Itachi still had the wherewithal to get married and produce two kids first.

The point is, it’s not talked about.

It is how everything has always been done. And in just the same way, among his family, members of the Uchiha play the role they are assigned by birth. A man has his place, as does a woman. The idea of operating outside of those very separate spheres, let alone the idea of a man being born into the body of a woman, is nonsensical to him.

To say Sasuke had instant reservations would be putting it lightly.

If he were a man of a different temperament – a man like his father – his first instinct would be to point out to his child the impossibility of the situation, and if that failed, attempt to find some counsel to get over it. A very, very small part of him continues to be tempted to do just that. The other part – the one that has travelled the world and been exposed to many different lifestyles, the one who has struggled with his own demons, both addiction and the trauma of active combat, the one who married one of the most open-minded women in existence –

That part tells him to keep his fucking mouth shut and go along with it for the sake of his family.

If it weren’t for Sakura, he doesn’t think he could manage it.

His wife reacted to the announcement with the same sympathy and open-mindedness he’s seen her display at every major milestone, like the time Sarada shamefacedly admitted to perhaps needing glasses or when some of their Uchiha cousins throw around insults about “commoner blood”. In every case, Sakura is always the calm and comforting one, the one ending her assurances with, “We love you no matter what.”

In her usual whirlwind manner, after hearing Sarada’s announcement, she made it her personal mission to ensure their child’s needs were met completely. Because of the nature of her job, she was already very knowledgeable about it all, to the point of being matter-of-fact.

“No matter what, the important thing here is to show that we support him from the beginning,” she insisted.

Suddenly the house was filled with every book possibly written on the subject, and every other day she was on the phone with some expert or other. For four years, she organised psychological and psychiatric consultations, fought for an official diagnosis of gender identity disorder, had them attend individual and family counselling sessions, schooled Sasuke in using the proper pronouns, had them all meet with a sexologist –

And woe betide anyone – friends or even family members – who questioned her decision to support Sarada. There’s a reason that Sasuke’s family, with the exception of Itachi, will be conspicuously absent from today’s festivities.

It’s another one of Sakura’s ideas, a formal show of support, as Sarada has decided the time is right to live as a boy from now on.

They have told a select few people, with Sarada’s permission, over the years – the respective grandparents, Naruto and Kakashi and their families, Sarada’s teachers and her best friend ChoCho – but today is the official “coming out”. Sakura was seconds from taking out an ad in the damned newspaper before Sasuke and Sarada stopped her.

He wonders if there’s such a thing as being too supportive.

“How are you doing with all this?”

Sasuke glances to one side, notices Kakashi eyeing him knowingly. His former bomb squad captain and mentor is always observant. Today is one of those days Sasuke wishes he wasn’t.

“Fine,” he replies neutrally, taking a sip of tea. He isn’t actually thirsty, but he just needs something to occupy his hand and mouth.

“And Sarada?”

“Fine.”

Kakashi sighs in annoyance. “Is there any point to asking how Sakura’s doing?”

They both glance through the door to the kitchen, where Sasuke’s wife is fighting with Ino about pretzel-to-chip ratios (“Don’t you dare fuck up my child’s birthday party, Pig!” “You’re the one who can’t manage proper place-settings for shit!).

“She’s in her element,” he replies simply.

“Man, I’ve got so much respect for you guys,” Naruto says with a low whistle, and then takes a chug of his own beer. “I don’t even know what I’d do if it were my kid.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “You’d be doing the same thing I’m doing, moron. Only more panicking and oversharing.”

“Very funny,” Naruto replies with a scowl, but then his face relaxes into earnestness. “I’m not so sure. I mean, yeah, in theory I’d like to say I would, but in reality… It’s just weird. I mean, one day, you have Sarada, and the next day…well, the next day you have him.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Sasuke replies shortly.

Any further rumination on the topic is cut off when the doorbell rings.

“I’ve got it!” Sakura sings, flying from the kitchen to greet their first guests.

“Shouldn’t Sarada get the door?” he inquires. “It’s his party, after all.”

“He’s busy. ChoCho said something about a surprise,” his wife answers, hauling open the door and exclaiming her delight at the first guests.

Sasuke sighs, squares his shoulders, and prepares for the longest afternoon of his life.

うちは

The atmosphere in the beginning of the party is pleasant, but there is a definite undercurrent of curiosity and uncertainty beneath the requisite excitement.

When Hinata arrives with Boruto and Himawari, the latter chirps a sunny hello to Sasuke and bounds upstairs to find Sarada. As in all things, she is utterly unaffected by the whole mater. To her, life is simple: yesterday it was sunny, today it’s overcast.

Sarada was a girl, now he is a boy.

In contrast, Boruto skulks in, glowers at everyone, and goes to sit in the farthest corner with his handheld gaming device. Naruto scowls at him, and when Sasuke raised an eyebrow, he shrugs, and confides in a low voice, “He’s having some trouble adjusting. Sarada’s his best friend. Even knowing this was coming…I don’t think he actually thought it would.”

Neither of them mention the fact that Naruto’s son has always had a crush on Sarada, and that this complication might be a major part of his resentment.

Besides, Sasuke has more to concern himself with, not least of all the minor heart-attack he has when his d – his son – makes a grand entrance about half an hour later, with ChoCho and Himawari beaming smugly on either side.

Sarada has shorn off his long hair and bangs, leaving nothing but spiky black bristles. The horn-rimmed glasses he has sported since childhood have been replaced with a thick, squared rim. And even though Sasuke hasn’t seen Sarada in anything resembling a dress since the age of three, the sight of loose-fitting khaki shorts and dark blue polo are a bit jarring.

It’s like looking at himself when he was eleven.

“Oh, darling!” Sakura swoops over, tackle-hugging Sarada from behind and pressing a kiss against his temple.

“Mom, you’re choking me!” their beleaguered offspring complains, but Sasuke can tell it’s just an act. He’s pleased by the contact.

“Doesn’t he look great?” Sakura exclaims as they watch Sarada head over to a group of friends and cheer about the pile of waiting presents.

“Sh – He cut his hair,” Sasuke points out through gritted teeth. “Why does he need to cut his hair?”

“It’s his way of asserting his masculinity.”

“There’s nothing masculine or feminine about hair,” he protests. “None of the men in my family have cut their hair unless they were in service. Itachi’s is practically down to his ass, and he’s got flee on-sight-warrants in three different jurisdictions.”

Sakura’s face is set in that particular way – the “if you don’t shut up I will grab you by the short-and-curlies-and-twist” look he only sees when he’s doing something socially unacceptable.

In a quieter voice, Sasuke adds, “Isn’t this the sort of thing that requires parental consent?”

“It is, and we’ll discuss it with him later after his friends have gone home,” his wife says crisply, returning to the kitchen before Ino sets it on fire.

Naruto gives him a knowing look, and Sasuke snaps, “What?”

“Nothing. I just find it interesting that you’re getting upset about ancient Uchiha hair traditions. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk about?”

“You’re the one who feels the need to emote everywhere. So go do that somewhere else.”

His best friend sighs at that, and meanders away, knowing better than to push. Kakashi exhales a weary laugh and says, “For what it’s worth, I think he improved on your look. Your hair always reminded me of the back-end of a duck.”

Which Sasuke doesn’t even dignify with an answer. Instead, he wanders over to the dining room table, which has been lovingly decorated with every type of junk-food offering and warehouse-sized plate of fruit imaginable, and resentfully begins picking through it.

Across the room, Sarada is having a blast.

He takes great glee in opening presents, laughing uproariously over stereotypically boy gifts. Occasionally he shoots a glance up at his father, showing off a video game or football gear, and rolling his eyes, which makes Sasuke’s heart life a little. Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean Sarada fits a particular mould – it’s a relief to know he’ll still probably want Sasuke to show him proper kendo form instead of attending some brutish sports rally.

Throughout the party, Sarada’s friends are curious but open, most of them already knowing the specifics, while some still ask questions. When anything gets too close to inappropriate – such as whether Sarada intends to get surgery – Sakura is there to swoop in with small, yet pointed reminders.

“That’s a rather personal question, Shinki. If he wanted you to know that, he would tell you.”

In his corner, Boruto pretends not to listen in, but the scowl on his face isn’t as pronounced. The parents are more quiet in their curiosity – these are all old family friends, and more than one of them owes Sakura in some way. No one will say anything unkind here, and once Itachi shows up with Shisui in tow, no one will dare think it either.

But it still makes Sasuke nervous, having to stand there and answer questions or hear comments about matters that he doesn’t truly understand himself. If his wife wasn’t so busy playing the hostess, she could be making infantile conversation instead of him.

Somehow, the time does pass, and they eventually get to the point in festivities when Sakura and her mother carry in a huge chocolate cake, and the din becomes overwhelming. It’s amusing how a bunch of kids that insist they be treated like adults turn feral when sweets are introduced to the equation.

Sarada waits until everyone has finished a horrifying rendition of the birthday song, and then stands up and calls for silence.

“I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for coming by today,” he says. “And for all the cool gifts. And I really want to thank my Mom and Dad for doing this, because it’s been awesome.” He beams at them, and Sasuke feels Sakura appear beside him, leaning into his side. “I also wanted to share something with you guys, because it is my birthday. It’s a pretty huge deal for me, and you all mean a lot to me, so I wanted you to be the first to know.”

He shifts nervously.

“So…when I was little, I asked my Mom why they called me ‘Sarada’. It’s kind of weird name.”

“Yeah, they basically called you “salad”,” Boruto grumbles.

“Fuck you, Bolt.”

“Language!” Sakura snaps, her voice like a whip-crack. Every kid in the vicinity, and some parents, wince.

“Sorry, Mom,” Sarada says, ducking his head penitently before continuing on. “Anyway, Mom told me how she and Dad came up with the name. That it’s made up of parts of their names, and my Uncle Itachi – who, if you guys don’t know, is brilliant and could probably make James Bond cry like a girl.”

Over in the corner, stuffing his face with dango, Itachi waves a stick in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“And the thing is… even though it’s a cool name, and I’m honoured to be named after these three people, it never really felt like my name. I knew I was going to have to leave it behind someday,” he continues solemnly. “It’s been a hard decision. I never really brought it up with my parents because, well, they’ve been so focussed on helping me through all of the other stuff. It never seemed like the right time. Besides, it’s has been hard finding something that fit. And I didn’t want to completely forget what went in to naming me the first time, so I decided on something that still keeps the spirit of what my parents thought of alive.” He takes a deep breath. “From now on, I would prefer if you all called me Sachiro.”

It’s the first time either he or Sakura have heard the new name, even if it has been discussed.

The cheers and clapping from the guests wash over Sasuke, who flashes back to that day, eleven years ago, when he and Sakura were debating names. They hadn’t been able to agree on anything in the months leading up to the birth, and now it mattered, and neither of them could think of something fitting.

How she looked, flushed and exhausted from giving birth, but so obviously happy. Her tentative suggestion of naming the baby after them both, and Itachi, who was the only reason the Uchiha family had accepted Sakura as Sasuke’s wife. How at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything that was more appropriate.

The music and chatter seems to start up again tenfold, and Sasuke finds himself staring down into eyes that are the exact colour of his own.

“That’s okay, right, Dad?” his child ask quietly, and a little uncertain. “It’s a good name?”

Sasuke’s chest constricts a little, and he nods slowly. “Hm.”

Sara – Sachiro – beams up at him. It’s the same brilliant, joyful smile of Sakura’s that Sasuke fell in love with, the same smile he has seen when he read stories, visited the park, taught her – taught him – to swim and climb trees. Toothless, or beneath a scratched nose, or covered in mud.

A smile, he realises not, that grew rarer over the years.

Sarada has always been a little sullen, a little quiet and reserved. Sasuke always thought that she – he –was just similar to the way he was when he was a kid. But right now, the way this boy beams and laughs and just exudes joy, Sasuke sees more of Sakura for the first time in almost a decade. There’s a joie de vivre there, a confidence and sense of self Sasuke has barely felt.

And the idea that he could be responsible for that smile or certainty disappearing, that’s the thing that convinces him, finally, that all of this is right. Whatever he personally feels, it’s no longer about just going along with it and humouring the situation, as if it’s something that has been done to him. It’s about his child’s happiness and frame of mind.

The realisation isn’t a happy one, per se, but it’s solid enough that Sasuke thinks he will make peace with it, eventually.

“Mom?” Sa – Sachiro is asking, bringing Sasuke back to the moment. “What do you think? It’s still got yours and Dad’s and Uncle Itachi’s name in it. I mean, the ending is a little different, but I thought –”

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Sakura says, reaching out and brushing a hand over newly shorn hair. There’s a warble of emotion in her voice as she says it, but when Sasuke glances down at her to check, she’s already pulled away. “I’m going to go get plates for the cake, alright?”

Sachiro nods, grins one last time at them, and hurries back to his friends.

Sakura crosses the room, and Sasuke is concerned to notice a stiffness in her back that wasn’t there before. She makes a beeline for the kitchen, pausing only when intercepted by Tsunade, who she greets with a wide – And false, he notices smile – and accepts a nondescript plastic bag. As she continues to the kitchen, Sasuke sees her fist clenched around the handle, knuckles white and shaking.

He isn’t the only one to notice, either. Naruto watches Sakura disappear into the kitchen and shoots a questioning glance at Sasuke. They’ve all known each other since they were toddlers, which means he knows as well as Sasuke when something is wrong. Without words, Sasuke communicates to his friend to keep an eye on things, and follows his wife.

うちは

He finds her standing over the sink, fingers clenching the metal, her shoulders shaking.

“Sakura?”

There’s a sharp inhale and she straightens up, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Oh, Sasuke, you’re here – did you need something?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing! Nothing, I’m just…cutting more onions for the dip.”

It’s an utterly different story from before, made all the more unbelievable by the fact that there are no onions anywhere in the house.

“Sakura…”

“Tsunade stopped by from the hospital,” she goes on, and makes a vague gesture to the kitchen table. The plastic bag Sasuke saw earlier has been casually tossed there. “She knew we were so busy with everything, so she filled the prescription for the… for the blockers.”

Sasuke tenses, staring at the package with renewed understanding. They’ve had discussions in the past weeks, as Sarada grew closer and closer to making the official, full-time transition. There were mentions of intervening before the onset of puberty, recommendations from the psychiatrist to get started now while they wait for official permission to start him on testosterone injections, but –

Looking at the nondescript plastic bag, Sasuke can’t help a resurgence of his apprehension.

He knows it’s only a temporary measure – in theory, it’s like a pause button, a chance for Sachiro to be absolutely sure before any actual commitments are made. There are still many more milestones in the future, this one isn’t even the most important.

But it still unnerves him; judging from Sakura’s shakiness, she is affected too, even though she tries to chat like normal.

“We can give them to h-him tonight, or…or maybe gift-wrap them, and add it to the present pile? It would be a nice surprise, I think…don’t you think?”

She sounds like she really wants his opinion on this, and he opens his mouth to agree, to disagree, to do something, but it feels like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. He has only just had his personal revelation on the subject matter. Before this he’s kept himself out of any major decisions, and she’s aware of this. Why the hell does she want him involved in this one? She’s the one who has been so keen on pursuing all of this, why –

There’s a sudden choking sob.

Before he can really parse what he’s seeing, Sakura’s face seems to crumple, her bright eyes and trembling smile imploding into a look of horror.

“What are we doing?” she whispers, and shaking fingertips go to her lips. “Oh, Sasuke, what are we doing? What if this is wrong? What if…?” She emits a staggered sob. “People understand here, but what if she…what if he wants to go somewhere else. For college. For work. People can hurt him – you’ve read the stories in the paper, what if that happens to our…”

She trails off in a moan, and tears are now leaking from the corners of her eyes, her voice getting higher and more panicked in pitch.

“We’re rushing this – I feel like we’re rushing this –”

“Sakura…” he begins, reaching for her, but she evades his touch, pacing now.

“Sh-she said she needed this, and everything she asked for, everything she asked us to do, I did, but maybe we should have talked more first – four years isn’t that long, maybe…maybe it’s a mistake, maybe we’re not doing the right thing –”

“Sakura –”

“Why couldn’t she just be gay?” she cries suddenly, rounding on him with wild eyes. In her panic, she is no longer able to use the correct pronouns. “This would…this would just be so much easier if she just liked girls, because then she…then we wouldn’t…”

“Didn’t you tell me it isn’t the same thing?” he asks, tentative and uncertain.

“I know it’s not!” she snaps, and then presses her fist against her mouth, stifling the uncontrollable sobs that now rack her body. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did not do anything wrong,” he informs her, taking her by the shoulder now and squeezing in reassurance.

But his wife doesn’t seem to notice, instead looks off into the distance.

“And the name,” she continues in a whisper. “I knew there would be a point when we…but…but Sarada was our miracle. She was our little g-girl and I’ll never get to say her n-name anymore, and she…didn’t even ask and I…I mean, is it…is it wrong that I should want a say in m-my own child’s name?”

Sasuke exhales, drawing Sakura into his arms and holding her close. “No.”

“I h-had a daughter, Sasuke,” she sobs into his shoulder. “I g-gave birth to a girl, and she was beautiful and w-wonderful and…and do you remember that first year? With the ladybug dress, and the s-strappy shoes?”

“I do.”

“And the way she would pretend her mattress was a magic carpet and ride it down the stairs, and I…I know we said we did this for her – him. We’re doing this for him, so he can be healthier, and happier and I’m trying my hardest to let h-him be who he is, but why…why does it feel like I’m killing her?”

The question is so raw, so wrecked with pain, that for a split second Sasuke wants to call everything off. His wife is hurting, and the event going on in the other room is causing it, and since he was seventeen, his life has revolved around ensuring the Sakura does not hurt.

But since he was twenty-two, his life has also revolved around ensuring his child does not hurt.

He knows that if he walks in there now, telling everyone to return home – or even just calls Sa – Sachiro in and points out that his mother – the one who has been a pillar of support since the beginning – is having second thoughts, it will break him. And his…his son is the kind of person that will accept a lifetime of misery if he thinks it will save someone he cares about a little pain.

If it’s someone Sachiro loves with the same fierce devotion as he does Sakura, he’ll quietly go back into the closet and never say another word about it until his dying day.

And from the articles that Sasuke has read over his wife’s shoulder, that’s something that could come much sooner than later.

The idea is chilling.

Which is why it only takes another split second for Sasuke to pull out his phone and send a text to Kakashi and Naruto – both of whom are as protective of his child as he is – and orders them to keep everything running smoothly. Then, he leads a still shaking Sakura up the stairs and back to their room.

Shutting the door, he leads her to their bed and sits her down, then silently takes the place beside her. For a long while, he simply allows her to cry, holding her until she gets past the wordless, grief-filled sobs.

When he senses her coming back to herself, he takes up the conversation as if there was no break.

“You are not killing anyone,” he tells her, quietly but firmly.

“But she’s still going to be gone,” Sakura says dully. “It’s almost worse.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She swallows. “No. I don’t. But I…sometimes, I still feel like our daughter is…dead. And we’re supposed to replace her with this…this stranger.”

It is the first time Sasuke has heard his wife utter any of this. The first time he has heard her insinuate that she is just as uncertain of this whole situation as he is, that she has doubts. And it’s the first time that he finds himself in the position where he has to be the one with the answers.

He has no idea what to do, but it’s clear silence is not the answer in this case.

Stick to the facts, he decides. He’s better at logic than emotion.

“That child downstairs is still our child,” he tells her firmly. “The child you carried inside you. Everything you love about that child is still there, whether we have a boy or a girl. And our son is happy, which means we are doing the right thing.”

Sakura sniffs.

“You’re just saying that,” she mutters. “I know you haven’t been completely on board about this.”

“I haven’t,” he agrees. “I’m still not sure that I completely understand. But I do know that Sa – Sachiro is happy. And he’s safe. And protected. And accepted by his friends, our neighbours and most of the town, and that is because of you. He would not have even this much anywhere else. And if he were growing up the way I did, he wouldn’t have any of it. He would be miserable.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know that, Sasuke, in my heart I know it, but every so often, right when I’m least expecting it, there’s just this moment. And I just feel it all, all over again. And I can’t say anything, especially not to S-Sachiro. It would crush him. And if anyone else thought I wasn’t supporting him, then maybe they’d stop supporting him, and –”

“Then you tell me,” Sasuke interrupts her.

She glances at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’re supposed to tell me these things,” he continues, dogged. “I can only guess you haven’t for that exact reason. You thought if you wavered, I’d put a stop to this whole thing.”

“I-I didn’t mean to…”

“You might have been right,” he concedes. “But that was before. I’m also the only person in this whole situation that is going through the same thing as you. From now on, you tell me when you’re feeling like this. It’s not healthy for you to keep it inside – isn’t that what you used to say to me?”

“Sasuke…”

“Did you…want to me to set up a meeting?” he suggests, tentatively, because this next bit is definitely not his strong point. “With the therapist?”

She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes. “Yeah. Yes. But I’ll make the appointment.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“You hate talking to therapists,” she points out.

“If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

“…I want you there.”

“Then that’s settled.”

They are silent for a while, just sitting quietly together, her ear pressed against his heart and his fingers stroking her hair in comfort. For just a few precious minutes, they can be two parents struggling with a change that has been a long time coming, but which neither has been truly prepared for.

Eventually, Sakura breaks the silence. “We should go back downstairs before we’re missed.”

“Hm.”

“If Sa- Sachiro comes looking for us, we’ll have some explaining to do.”

“You should take your top off. That would forestall any questions.”

“Sasuke!”

She smacks him a little more than lightly in the shoulder, but there is a hint of her smile from her earlier back on her face. He considers it a win.

“Do you think this will all turn out?” she asks, tentative. “He’ll be okay, right?”

“I don’t know. But I believe his chances are better, secure in the knowledge that he has our support.”

“Yeah…”

Sakura inhales a deep, shaky breath and squares her shoulders.

“Alright. Let’s go back down,” she says, with only a little less of her usual certainty. She catches sight of herself in the bedroom mirror, and frowns. “Everyone will know I was crying. I look horrible.”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” he tells her, because they both know he always finds her beautiful. He takes her by the hand and leads her from the room. “Besides, we can always say you were cutting onions.”

_____________________________________________

終わり

Apologies if I got anything horribly wrong, this was a difficult piece to write. As usual, as part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!

クリ

#ssfest17 #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #ssfestday13 #submission #ssfestentry

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