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thepringlesofblood · 3 years ago

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Flinging My Opinions Out Into The Feed Vol. 4: Network Effect

this fuckin novel is 104K (ish) words long. I read it in like 3 days.

i haven’t ripped through a book like that since grade school. holy fuck. murderbot has awakened the hungry book-eating autistic dragon within me from its long slumber. hopefully I can sate it with some of my class readings. also I always listen to the audiobook after reading the book book which is easier bc as a college student I walk everywhere and have lots of listening time.

anyway. I have so so so so many thoughts. this one long so thoughts under the cut (mega spoilers for NE obviously)

I’m splitting this up into a few sections bc this was a longass book and i have a lot of thoughts to organize

General Shit

for whatever fucking reason, I’ve always read ART as having Aziraphale Goodomens’ voice in my head, and I figured that would probably change with time as I got to know it, but it hasn’t! the more of an asshole it is the more it sounds like Aziraphale’s Bastard™ Voice! the more caring it is the more Soft™ it sounds! Why does this happen to me?!

I’ll probably attempt an actual analysis of this after I’m done with the whole series (only one book away what tf???), since the only thing I like more than writing mb meta is writing good omens meta

related: I imagine Kevin R Free reading AC like ‘aw sick we got a real HAL9000 here w art I’m gonna go full robot monotone’ then hitting network effect and realizing he now has to make this beepboop motherfucker sound sensitive and sad and scared and parental and going FUCK!

He really crushed it though big props for that

so many new children to adopt!!!! my family has grown so big!!!

I don’t mean 2.0 bc a. it’s specifically described as not a baby and b. like it’s just mb and while mb is still my child, by now it’s like a few years out of college - a little directionless but self-sufficient with a support network.

However, I have adopted the following:

Amena

you now have one more parent, bringing the count up to 5! (mensah, fari, tano, mb)

collect them all and you get a decoder ring!

Three

holy shit they kinda glossed over you at the end there but you are STYLIN’

not to be like called it but i knew mb was going to eventually just free some guy(s) and then not know what to do with them

i will protect it, i want to see it grow up big and strong

maybe my favorite end-of-the-book mb bot interaction thus far!

I have synesthesia (letters/numbers/words have color, texture, personality, etc.) and the number 3 is like, red/magenta/fuschia and kind of round and shiny and has strong “femme fatale in a film noir” energy so the name is really, really fucking me up bc obviously that’s not AT ALL how I think of Three (the SecUnit) as a character!

I already had a picture of it in my head from our first meeting with it and then it got named “Three” and my brain had to do a bunch of mental gymnastics to make it fit

it just throws the name “murderbot” around bc it doesn’t know any better and i can’t WAIT to see that fallout

Iris

“prove you’re Peri’s SecUnit - show me your face” *shoots a gigantic fucking robot to save her dad* ICONIC we LOVE her

+me gives her 4 parents (martyn, seth, ART) so she doesn’t get the decoder ring but she’s in the running!

This was easily the most suspenseful book yet, and the closest the mb series has come to straight-up horror.

I’m an anxious, jumpy person by nature - close a door too loud and I’ll jump 3 feet in the air. So the whole scene with the crystalized body I was just constantly tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it took me a While to get exactly what was going on, and props to Martha Wells for the mystery bc it was beautifully crafted, so tbh I figured everything out just when it fuckin moved.

I’m sure if I was holding a physical book, I would’ve yeeted it right across the room. I’m just glad my laptop wasn’t on my lap!

It’s also the closest Wells’ writing has come to actually losing my understanding with technobabble. Usually the way it’s written, things just sort of...make sense, without you having to stop and work through it.

I feel like maybe it’s not talked about as much bc it’s so subtly done, but this series is constantly introducing new technology, new ways mb can hack and interact with the feed and new AIs that exist and their levels of sentience and how x aspect of life works with this advanced tech and it has always just slid into place for me. It’s one of Wells’ real assets as a writer - she can introduce a bajillion new technological things and the way she writes it through mb’s eyes just makes it intuitively understandable

it’s at least partially due to consistent worldbuilding and naming conventions. mb just calls things what they are, and makes it obvious when designating a title to something. there’s not multiple words for the same thing - wells successfully eradicates any “the blond man” or “the taller of the two” shit like you see in bad fanfiction.

it also helps that mb thinks of ai as people, kind of. It cuts down on thinking about the specific operations mb is performing with all these dang hacks bc it reads as a social interaction (though I’m sure the idea would be abhorrent to it lol).

instead of just “I did X” you get “I hacked XSys and asked it to do X", so if you don’t know what X is, you get clues from how mb interacts with it, and now you know who/what XSys is, so any reference to it and its function and any time it does something in the future, you get more context on it and it kind of reads as character development

where I started to get confused was figuring out a. exactly what 2.0 was doing and how it operated, and b. how the pre-CR Central system operated and how it infected the colonists.

a is mostly bc of the jarring shift into 2.0′s POV (which is a WILD sort of plot twist hell yeah) and bc 2.0 talks like mb 1.0 but is able to do very different things and that it exists as killware. it makes sense though and while it took me a bit, I was able to put it together.

and whole e shit wells thats an existential crisis i wasnt expecting to have.

b. is probably bc I’ve had 4 books to get used to exactly how CR (post-CR? during CR?) tech works and it took me a sec to shift my way of thinking

but when I got there? holy shit, that’s TERRIFYING, and so clever!!!!! relistening to the audiobook holy shit wells really stayed up too late watching The Thing and got scared and went hmmm I can use this fear and she was RIGHT

i cannot stress the SUSPENSE enough. the fucked up timeline. the POV switches. the helpme files. the mystery of the alien remnants. FUCK.

speaking of. 2.0

in a previous post i said something about how weird it was in exit strategy that mb kept talking about what counts as “winning”?

its death. it convinces 1.0 by saying “this is how I win”

fuck

and also some real tangible ptsd consequences: mb 1.0 hesitated bc of the flashback to miki. fuck.

I really appreciated how in ES we honed in on one sub-group of the PresAux gang (Pin-Lee, Gurathin, Ratthi), and in this one we switched it up a bit (Arada, Overse, Ratthi again bc he’s a likeable guy) and added in some of Mensah’s family, including...

ooooh Thiago. bow howdy do I have complex feelings on this motherfucker.

On the one hand I get it. this company-made robot person just drops into your family and has your sister in-law’s complete trust for some reason. I get being a lil hesitant. and he does really follow up on it and try to make it work. on the other hand he did mega piss me off for like the 1st half of the book, mostly for how he treated Mensah.

deadass? I fuckin WISH I had a SecUnit friend to come get me out of social situations I don’t want to be in. good call Mensah. but she shouldn’t’ve had to do it in the first place, man, give her space

the weird lil interrogation he does w mb onboard art is really what pissed me off. he’s so clearly in the wrong not just bc his information is inaccurate (about the assassination attempts n shit) but bc he doesn’t LISTEN TO MENSAH and take her needs and agency seriously.

sidenote: art intervening in this conversation was actually amazing. it was really like ‘mb stop spilling mensah’s beans thiago shut the fuck up and go to sleep im disappointed in both of you’

he does go to apologize to her at the end though and isn’t an idiot, so he gets those points.

he is kind of shit at both security and more importantly listening to and trusting mb’s expertise but we can forgive

the differentiation mb makes in its thought processes at the beginning b/w ‘another innocent brand new naive secunit who needs help adjusting to human society’ and ‘me’

mb keeps going ‘mensah’s family would have liked me if I was ____ but I was me’

completely disregarding that mensah’s family does like it by and large

theres some interesting ethical implications there too - mb thinks mensah’s family wants a blank slate of a person to project a personality onto, and that the issue is that mb is very much already a personality, its just a grumpy weird lil guy

also mad foreshadowing for three

the way SecUnit and Amena really meet for the first time basically? priceless.

amena pov: you’re on your way home drunk with a guy you hope to sleep with, and he turns on the lights at his place and there’s your second mom’s weird new friend(?) just standing in the middle of the room, resting bitch face, wearing all black, who scares the guy out of his fuckin mind simply by existing (mb doesn’t even say anything in this scene!!! it just stands there and waits for amena to turn and leave, then follows her!). on the way home it lists all the reasons that guy was almost certainly a rapist. you don’t want to seem stupid so you put up a bit of a fight but you feel its cut-the-bullshit eyes on you and it sucks. also, it’s basically a living security camera and you know it’s going to snitch on you, no matter what it says.

mb pov: nah nah sister you’re not takin her to a secondary location

jokes aside I really like how deadpan mb is about the whole thing. maybe that’s the wrong word but like. it’s not made a big deal of? like, there’s no sort of pearl-clutching, there’s no asking for it or victim-blaming shit, there’s no difference from any other kind of potential harm. it just goes “this is a threat. I am going to eliminate that threat.” like it would for anything else. mb analyzes the guy the same way it would any potential hostile. it doesn’t treat sexual assault as a rare occurrence or something special and weird, just goes “don’t trust this fucker, will stop him from harming my client(’s daughter)”

“If there’s one thing I understand it’s the difference bw proprietary and non-proprietary data” So, mb pretends to not know privacy boundaries sometimes but knows this one. Huh.

“Teammate”

damn for anyone else that’d be an understatement but like. mb explaining that mensah was the first person it’d been on equal footing with? that it’d been on a team with? it makes sense. ow.

this is the book that really hammered it home for me that most futuristic/sci fi books are either utopia or dystopia but Wells did both. and even better are the interactions!!! You have horrific dystopian Corporation Rim, and beautiful utopian Preservation, and the interplay between the two and the privileges and disadvantages both sides have and the grey space in between...it’s amazing.

Even better, she made a dystopia with limits - gender, sexuality, race are just never an issue. i feel like with so many people when they have anachronistic worldbuilding in their stories, they feel like they have to make up new versions of racism and sexism and homophobia but Wells just went no, my dystopia is bad bc of capitalism, and I wanna focus on that. the world is open and accepting for real-world identities, regardless of whether you’re talking about fucking contract slavery or music festivals.

in the end.....mb finally knows what it wants. fuck. i’m gonna start crying. that’s a whole series dilemma right there, an essential part of its development and arc, something we revisit at the end of every book. when it said ‘i know what i want’ i almost burst into tears

The Intricate Rituals (aka murderbot and art’s “relationship”)

this book was so so choice for examining what they mean to each other boy howdy

i wanna be clear - don’t clown around on my post w romantic interpretations and slash w these two weirdos. mb v clearly is not down for that kind of shit. relationships don’t have to be romantic or sexual to be meaningful and complex.

goddamn the ARC they went through??? from grief to anger and betrayal to working together and rebuilding trust to a genuinely beautiful friendship to creating 2.0 to the fucking threat of bombing a colony to some of the best comfort in a hurt/comfort setup i’ve ever seen to art inviting mb to stay???? fuck me.

highlights

during mb and art’s fight, Arada and Ratthi are both trying to be like John mulaneys bit about Andy Cohen at those goddamn reunions okokokokokokokok

mb really knows how to pull a ‘no talk to me im angy’ and honestly the mental picture of the rest of the crew not seeing the almost imperceptible ways art is communicating w mb and then seeing mb blow up in return is hilarious.

“mutual administrative assistance” fuck me running thats good

mb knowing art well enough that when it needs to get its full unbridled compliance it pulls “you’re upsetting amena” like daaamn

mb reassuring art about its crew….. can we call “the first thing I checked for when i got onboard your empty corpse was if your crews dead bodies could be anywhere” a love language?

art having no qualms about blurting shit out to amena since Teacher Mode Activated and mb hating it? hilarious dynamic. i also love mb and art both being good with kids but in completely different ways.

Ratthi, mr. extrovert relationship specialist, trying desperately to parse mb and art and all THEIR drama is hilarious!!!! like, they communicate so quickly and complexly that whenever someone else tries to figure out what the fuck is going on it just doesn’t work

art trying to get mb to go to the meeting w leonide as an augmented human not a secunit because “you don’t like it” ahhhh im soft

Maybe it’s just me but mb loving the clothes art made it is adorable. It has all the stuff mb likes. It’s such a subtle thing you might not even notice it but across the series whenever mb describes clothes it has to wear it’s very specific about what it looks for, and art ticked all the boxes (lots of sealable pockets, strong/deflection fabric, sturdy ass boots, comfortable and easy to move in)

and THEN, when mb 1.0 curls up to die under the agri bot and notices the clothes art made it protecting it in its last moments of consciousness? Poetic cinema

Art’s bedside manner is like. Surprisingly thoughtful and loving. at the end it fucking. made a lil quarantine box and ‘separated part of its consciousness’ to it and played tv so mb wouldn’t be alone and idk im weak for this kind of thing but art caring for mb the way it deserves to be cared for is just. mmmm

Ik it’s been said a million times but art going “oh god my bff’s Important Person is coming aboard I gotta clean I gotta clean” when mensah shows up is priceless

one of many all time fav quotes: “Art did know everything. It was so annoying”

Big Neurodivergent Vibes

i’m sure someone’s said it before but art and mb watching media together? parallel play, aka doing the same/similar activities in the same area/feedspace without talking or interacting too often. like cats.

mb helping art work through its memory shit after actively antagonizing it is heartwarming - especially after they find out its personal memory was altered and art is just. Silent? in the group chat for a while and mb speaks for it? Art’s not here rn can I take a message? Beautiful. Big neurodivergent mood. talking for ur friend who can’t talk rn is nd to nd communication.

also, i don’t know how i missed it before but the clear division of subjective and objective time, and getting fucked up by it sometimes? in previous books it’s just been for emphasis, but in NE it actually affects things.

*mb facing the wall in order to talk to three* SecUnit to SecUnit conversation

ADHD solidarity - playing worldhoppers in the background to take up processing space while you work on important shit

i can’t believe i didn’t put this together sooner - special interest: soap operas media, sanctuary moon in particular

controversial opinion? mb is really empathetic. ppl have probably made the case for mb having a sort of low empathy situation going on but like if you look at its actions it feels other’s feelings and cares so so much. like, looking at how it responds when art’s dead, when it’s trying to help the contract laborers, when it’s trying to help its crew, when it’s trying to help art’s crew? it has had to deaden itself out of necessity but the emotions are still very much there. tbh this might be me projecting my sympathy for having sudden, intense, hard-to-identify emotions and being more “sensitive” to loved ones getting hurt than anticipated, but also like. think of all the times it’s like “fuck, im having an emotional reaction to this. I wasn’t expecting that.” idk if we can call that hyperempathy but like. it’s sure something.

alexithymia is a thing where its hard for you to identify your emotions. its really common in nd people. need i say more? mb never knows what the fuck its feeling

Beautiful Representation (mostly queer)

CASUAL THEY/THEM REP YESSSSSSSS and not just like one either!!!! Mihail, Matteo, Turi, a whole bunch of em!!! ahhhhhhh

Lesbian love is stored in the “babe” - legit 90% of overse and arada’s dialogue is just “hey babe” “babe” and you know what? that’s valid. i love it and i love them.

ik you could say The Feed is kind of a catchall deus ex machina for some things but i do not care! especially when it comes to just storing your gender info somewhere everyone can see and acknowledge and you don’t have to do shit about it!

some fun feed designations I noticed

Arada is “female/femme”

Leonide is “female/femme-neutral”

none of the feed designations include pronouns, but mb just knows them and uses them intuitively anyway. maybe it’s stored in a different part of the feed? like translation/language module? idk but im happy

mb noted at one point that “most” humans have “medium brown” skin tones - transcendent, one of my favorite things about this series is that skin tone is mentioned in the initial description of almost everyone mb meets, and its almost never just “white” - plus, its never given like. more attention than its due, or weird food comparisons.

it also briefly mentions Preservation having accommodations for mobility aids at the big festival/concert, and having a designated quiet area. i just. it’s so good.

The Fainting Couch

Explanation

bc mb is so emotionally constipated, any time that any emotion is expressed it takes me the tf out and I feel like a lady in a victorian novel retiring to my fainting couch to die from breathing too hard.

it’s like that moment in Pride and Prejudice (2005) where mr darcy helps lizzie get into the carriage and for a brief moment their hands touch and they spend a whole camera shot on it and its A BIG DEAL even though its not a ‘big deal’

there was definitely a post that made me connect these two things but i do not remember exactly when i saw it.

so this is a list of times where i was taken the fuck out by the EMOTION of it all!

it’s my friend. it helped me because it wanted to, because it could

fuck, the entire section of time b/w mb getting aboard art and art coming back is excruciating, it’s littered with all sorts of grieving inner dialogue, culminating in...

“my friend is dead!”

owwwwww the grief hurts and even more so, the later 180° from grief to betrayal hurts

mb repeatedly referring to the PresAux gang as “my humans” 😩

The Entire “ART meets PresAux after re-establishing control of the ship” scene

like mb is in such a vulnerable position in so many ways that it wants to reassert control however it can and also it’s right, and these two parts of its world are colliding and the PresAux gang have private information about it that ART doesn’t have and vice versa and it’s so desperate to keep them from sharing it but it doesn’t have a choice

The fucking convo bw mb on the med platform and art and the crew all getting to know each other and the anger and betrayal and comfort and EMOTION!!!!! Fuck me!!!!

also ngl i was also p mad when I realized art did in fact cause some problems on purpose

highlighted quotes:

trusted friend

ow my fucking heart

I did what I had to do, you should understand that

“I’m not talking to you on the feed! You’re not my client and you’re not my-“

OW BITCH OW CALL 911 IM ON THE FLOOR

“Art? You’re scaring Amena. You’re scaring me.”

My heart…… and the realization that art hadn’t been plotting and planning but was just scared and wanted a Trusted Friend?

“And it hit me then that ART had been desperate and terrified since the moment the Barrish-Estranza ship had sidled up and done whatever it had done. It had tricked its captors into taking it to me not because it had some kind of grand strategy but because it needed me” OWWW

The apologies? The LOVE???? Bitch I’m crying.

“I’ve lost my crew. I won’t lose you”

i spent a solid 24 hrs thinking about this quote before picking up the book again

“I just really like you. Not in a weird way.”

aahhhhhhhhh

i didn’t know there was a WHOLE ASS OTHER PERSON there for this though!!!

Senior Indah Saw Things that day, goddamn.

also I love that after saying “I like you too” the first thing Mensah does is say “get this secunit to medical immediately” bc like the implication of “if its saying this kind of shit its gotta be really injured” like it’s continuing the conversation from before but like its still funny

like this was in response to mensah saying ‘go to medical’ basically and i feel like it’s bc someone else cares about its wellbeing for its own sake, not just for its capabilities, and it’s just. so many.

“They’re sleeping, I told myself. 2.0 and Central wouldn’t feel a thing”

FUCK

in case you don’t recognize this. its from. when 2.0 and central and targetControlSystem all get stuck in the star thing and mb 1.0 has to destroy it and kill them and it tells itself it won’t hurt them, it’ll be like they’re sleeping, and i fucking SOBBED

like 2.0 we barely knew ye but also wells you HAD to spend the past chapter or so having 2.0 endearingly bouncing around 1.0′s mind just so we don’t forget its a person fuck fuck fuck

the whole final chunk of conversations is just one hit quote after another

“You made me sound….safe”

and then art understanding and addressing the concern and art knowing and accepting what murderbot is, in its entirety, because its never not known.

“No one had ever rescued me before”

“I don’t want to not see you again”

“But I like being with ART. I want to keep being with it” FUCK IM ALREADY ON MY FAINTING COUCH DUDE GET THE DEFIBRILLATOR

Little Things

Mb uses the same words for everyone regardless of gender. “Marital partner” “offspring” “child”

we only spent a few minutes with her but I love Farai. she just casually goes “hey uh mb what’s your relationship situation with my wife” and mb goes NO and she’s like understandable have a nice day

I understand now that post about how some people just sort of get Assigned British Accent At Audiobook and I was very surprised that it was just Amena and not Thiago. also, idk why, but whenever I imagine Amena she looks like Shuri from black panther

Ratthi going from “I’ll apologize to it” (ASR) to “secunit is a very private person. It doesn’t like to talk about its feelings” and “I could hear Ratthi telling them to drop the subject” u know what that is? Growth!

Thiago being worried about secunit giving amena Designated Drone Babysitters and ratthi being like no lol that’s how it shows affection

the gang finding the secunit killed by its governor module and just talking about how terrible that is right in front of mb recovering from the trauma of having one???? like come on guys thiago has an excuse he’s a bit of a dick but stop looking at this corpse that could’ve easily been mb’s if it didn’t hack itself and talking about how horrifying it is to you, it fucking knows!!!! like how fucking insensitive can you be??

but also i do appreciate that presaux still fucks up and doesn’t get everything right all the time it’s realistic

at some point in the middle when basically everyone is on art and having like a video conference about their plans, amena is with mb and has marked herself as “private” or something so she doesnt have to participate and is eating “imitative vegetable fragments” or something and basically i realized

she’s watching the drama goin on in the zoom meet w/ camera and mic off eating popcorn.

icon

Mb: wow humans sure are stupid im glad I’m good at threat assessment Also mb: *does all the wrong things in a horror movie when it finds The Control Room, giving me 7 discrete heart attacks*

I love my new child three, but i’d like it a lot more if wells didn’t keep switching POVs to it right when climactic things happen to mb 1.0

Mb detaching it’s own fucking hand to get out of restraints? Iconic

The Gang: art are u sure you can convincingly pretend to be evil? Art: oh don’t worry about it ;) 😘🤫

sidenote: Art is the biggest drama queen in the galaxy. all that media gave it so many theater-kid tendencies. including the homicidal ones. holy shit.

“There’s a lot about this that I don’t understand but I am participating anyway” #relatable i love three so much

mb realizing it’s kind of a damsel being rescued by three during the escape and being vaguely annoyed but also completely fine with it is the kind of energy I need in my life

Thiago keeps calling Amena “my daughter” but she repeatedly calls him “uncle” and i don’t know if its just language difference or what but like e.g.

“My daughter, are you sure you’ll be alright with a corporate-” “I’LL BE FINE UNCLE”

ohhh he got UNCLE-ZONED

speaking of, “Ok third mom” AAAHHHHH

“I am here against my will and you are going to regret that” new catchphrase dropped

i was right! there was a “wait a second secunit is shorter now??” bit!!! rip arada who was like yeah ur hairs a little different and mb replies with “I also got shorter”

Ik it’s a really serious situation n shit but imagining mb 1.0 staggering around a giant warehouse fighting with the knock-off copy of itself it made in its head is fucking HILARIOUS

(at the end of the book)

ART - oh ya I definitely already sent a distress signal through the wormhole like a month ago

Everyone: FUCK YOU

Kevin R Free Callouts

this guy does an amazing job with this book. ive said it before ill say it again - the man’s an artist.

he does pronounce things weird sometimes though. this is a comprehensive list of pronunciation crimes thus far.

Buoy

KRF: BOY

me: BOO-ee

Capsule

KRF: CAP-syew-wool

me: CAP-sull

Thiago

KRF: tee-AH-go

me: thee-AH-go

(i also do this with thalia though and some people pronounce ‘thalia’ ‘taw-lee-ah’ not ‘tha-lee-ah’ so maybe its me?)

Overse

KRF: OH-ver-say

me: OH-verse

(same disclaimer as above - i’ve never met anyone with this name and maybe krf has)

and by far, the most grievous

Holo

KRF: HOE-low (long o, like “odor” or “most”)

me: HAW-low (short o, o like “coffee” or “job” or “hologram”)

now i am going call out some compliments bc he is a great voice actor

I loved his take on the Targets’ voices, it was so creepy and reminded me of Night Vale Kevin

the difference in mb’s and three’s narration was distinct and consistent and easy to tell apart - I like three’s lil bird voice!

there were a lot of fucking voices to do this time around and i’m frankly amazed he kept em all straight, big props.

there were a lot of emotionally charged moments for mb here and he fuckin nailed them. i was in public while listening to some of the ending shit and I wish I had a fuckin opaque faceplate to keep my expression under control!

sorry this was so ludicrously long, but its a ludicrously long book. like, the ASR audiobook is about 3 hours, NE is 13 hours

fuck i cant wait to finish the series i’ll miss reading new ones but i will sink into the pool of fan content like a hot tub

#murderbot #long post #spoilers #my Opinions #original post

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encrypted-cryptid · 3 years ago

Text

wanted to try my hand at some sensory prompts for 3rd life! original prompt list here

32. The smell of blood

With heaving breaths, Martyn stumbles backward and does his best to keep the axe gripped tight in sweat slick hands. Crimson pools into the intricately carved grooves in the stone alter, running along the channels sluggishly, painting out a grim reminder of what had occurred. Martyn finds he can’t bring himself to look away. Not when the same crimson is splattered all across the axe blade, his hands, his shirt - and christ, he’s going to have throw this one away isn’t he? It’s almost easier to focus on the whole. If he looks at himself the guilt would eat him alive, he thinks.

Martyn reaches up with one hand to wipe away the sweat from his face, only realising half a second too late that all he’s succeeded in doing is smearing more of that blood - his King’s blood - across his cheek. Rich iron reaches his nose, metallic and sitting heavy in the back of his throat, an almost physical presence. His stomach turns at the scent, and it takes all he has not to throw down the axe and bolt right that second. Instead, he ignores the way his hands tremble and ignores the way the blood is pooling around his shoes now and ignores the smell as best he can - breath in, breathe out, easy - whilst he waits for his King to respawn.

46. The waver in a person’s voice when they’re stressed

“-I’m gonna be looking you in the eyes, and they’re gonna sacrifice you! And I don’t want that! Alright?”

Scott thinks back to Jimmy’s face from that morning, when the Red King and his loyal hand had come knocking. It’d stuck with him up until now, the way Jimmy’s eyes had hardened into something cold, something finally resembling the one red heart he had left and how his mouth had twisted down into a frown. The whole exchange had set off a nervous energy in his partner that Scott just couldn’t understand. Ren and Martyn were friendly, despite the newly turned red, and whilst he was somewhat suspicious of their true intentions, he’d seen few problems with what they were offering.

But - it was the way Jimmy’s voice had cracked, the way he’d skipped and stumbled over his words, clearly trying so hard to keep his emotions from bleeding into his tone that’d convinced Scott to step back a little and let him take the lead. Jimmy was happy go lucky, an optimist, always laughing and trying so hard to be kind to others. Scott couldn’t stand to hear him sound so unlike himself. Broken sounding, almost. And it was that moment, Scott thinks, that made him realise Jimmy would throw away his own red life for Scott’s green one.

48. A quiet sigh as they turn away

Grian hums over his shoulder to let Scar know he's still listening as he unstraps the chest plate from weary shoulders. Now that the adrenaline of a triple kill had left his system, the days stress was finally catching up to him. Sneaking around Dogwarts to even set up the damn thing had been nerve wracking - even if it had been absolutely worth it in the end - and all he really wanted to do now was unpack his things and fall into bed.

“God, can you imagine the havoc we could cause when you turn red too?” And that causes Grian to flinch, chest plate buckle slipping from clumsy fingers. Scar means well really, Grian knows that, but any talk of him ever turning red sets his mind and heart racing. With a strained smile on his face, he turns enough to catch Scar’s gaze and tries to keep his tone friendly enough.

“C’mon Scar, you know I’m out of here as soon as I turn yellow. How many times do I need to tell you?” It’ comes out more curt and clipped than he’d wanted. There’s a barely there stutter in Scar’s expression, a freeze of something - Sadness? Anger? Grian can’t pick it out - before he smiles sheepishly.

“Right, right, of course. Must have just - slipped my mind.” Though Scar’s voice is as upbeat as always, Grian catches the way his shoulders slump when he turns to leave the room, the sigh of resignation that leaves him before he walks out of earshot. Grian balls up the sudden guilt beating in his chest and buries it deep, dropping his items into the chest and slamming it shut a little too roughly. He only owes Scar one life. Nothing more. And then he’s gone.

#3rd life smp #blood tw #inthelittlewood #rendog #scott smajor #solidaritygaming #goodtimeswithscar #grian #can you tell i like the red/green duos a lot?#also! i didn't write these in the ship sense but you're free to interpret how you want #my art #i guess?

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lunarblazes · 3 years ago

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Hello I am loving your red watcher concept it's so cool!!! Please share more headcanons if you have any? I'd love to hear how the whole thing is affected the other people around Grian!

Also, do you have any tie-ins with this au for hermitcraft? If so I'd love to hear those as well!

SO SORRY I LET THIS ASK GO UNANSWERED FOR SO LONG. thank you SO much for asking aaahdkdjfldjfk i SWEAR i didn’t purposefully ignore this i have the memory of a squirrel and the attention span of a boiled peanut

hermitcraft isn’t canon to this lil au, really? i didn’t want to have to tie everything together HDKSHFKSJFKD I’M NOT SMART ENOUGH FOR THAT I’M SORRY. if anyone wants to make their own concepts to tie this to hc or related servers pop off :^)

THAT SAID here is some Information TM on the other members in the red watcher… thing?

nearly everyone on the server is affected by the weird shit that goes on, which is both based in my own ideas and the fact that people change their skins on red life lol. i don’t have super detailed ideas for a few of them— notably, being impulse, big b, etho, and joel! they just seem like they’d be funnier as humans.

bdubs: bdubs HIMSELF doesn’t change so much as his jacket. his moss jacket has my entire heart. it is alive now. he’s like a tangela. it moves on its own and it PUFFS bro. it’s like a parka

cleo: i’ve had the headcanon that as cleo dies she becomes more human instead of decaying further literally since day two of third life and i’m putting it in here. cleo is a patchwork of human and decay by the end of third life and it carries over to last life. it’s both hilarious and slightly angsty which is exactly how i like it

tango: tango’s just on fucking fire. he’s a flame spirit! a few of the people on the server are spirits in the world and tango’s one of them. obviously as he progresses we get more lava monster-y. like te kā from moana (i don’t think i used the accent marks right) but slightly more human-looking!

ren: yeah. wolf monster boy. you know the drill :^)! hes fluffy

martyn: martyn is actually a moon spirit even before everything, though the server brings out more of his inhuman traits. his design is based on dragons! he develops iridescent white scales, slit pupils, fangs, and horns, though one is torn off while he’s fighting grian in the battle of the red desert. i think he’s very cool

skizz: skizz is the most canon of the bunch: enderman void dude! he only changes once, on his red life in third life, but it sticks well. his arms are converted to void material, which means he can change their shape, and he can also dematerialize them in battle, though he has to be careful with that because it will also make him drop whatever he’s holding. his eyes are purely black except for red pinpricks of light signifying his life color.

scott: like martyn, scott is a spirit— a wind spirit, to be more exact! i actually don’t know how he changes exactly yet but! i do think his little crystalline headband thingy has something to do with it. think it might be fun if he sort of? cracked apart? in a similar way to how jimmy’s red life skin was dissolving. not sure yet! i do want him to take on more of a starborne look while he serves pearl. because obviously.

jimmy: speaking of jimmy dissolving. again, i’m not too sure what traits he develops, but that red life suspended state definitely carries over.

scar: SCAR IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. i took crack, listened to gold by imagine dragons one too many times, and went damn. guess i have a new hc. scar is literally an automaton. don’t ask me HOW or WHY. he just IS. his red body is decaying, you can see his ribs, and inside is a golden ribcage with a ticking, mechanical heartbeat. he bleeds solid gold. he’s really fun to draw!!!

pearl: pearl is similar to martyn, only i think i’m gonna go more unicorn-inspired as she dies more! i think unicorns are neat and i think she deserves this. she hasn’t reached the point of change yet (remember, grian’s the only one who will just change randomly), but she will eventually, so! i’m putting her on this list

lizzie: reconciling her axolotl skin with her clear fae tendencies will take me a bit more research, but considering she lives next to a river, i’m thinking this is kind of a naiad type thing. yes she is a fairy yes she is a river spirit. she was a river spirit even before this and so she kept her axolotl gills and a bit of her scales but Oh Boy living in a fairy circle is not going to help you when you lose lives and the server decides that you need to change, lizzie :^)

#last life #last life smp #red watcher #I’M NOT TAGGING EVERYONE BECAUSE JESUS THERES A LOT OF THEM #mumbo isn’t here because i don’t want him to stay human but i also don’t have any ideas for him yet #if anyone has suggestions feel free to send them my way!!!#I WILL GET BETTER AT ANSWERING ASKS I SWEAR I’M SO SORRY

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dvp95 · 5 years ago

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quiet on widow’s peak (12)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter), 38.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"You really don't know how to use chopsticks at all, huh?"

Phil ignores Dan's quiet, amused voice to keep attempting capture of the elusive sashimi. Eventually, he gives up and picks it up with his fingers. He pops it in his mouth and looks at Dan, despite all his common sense telling him it's a bad idea.

It's definitely a bad idea. The lighting is lower than in the coffee shop, tinged warm by the candles around the place - thankfully, none of them are on the table where Phil might accidentally elbow one and set the place ablaze - and Dan is sitting right across from him with shiny, smiling lips and dark, sparkling eyes. Phil reminds himself that this is not a date, that he wouldn't ask Dan on a date. Because Phil dates guys.

Well, not so much of the dating anyone at all thing as of late, but the point stands. Phil likes men and he likes everything that's classically attached to men, and he's not really interested in examining his sexuality in further detail at this point in his life. Still. Here Dan is, giggling at his attempts to wrangle sushi and asking about the footage corruption like it genuinely matters to them. Their feet keep knocking into Phil's own, because the table is small and both of them have Slenderman leg proportions. It also keeps happening because Dan seems to have a very hard time sitting still.

Their foot taps along to a beat that doesn't match the soft music over the speakers and their hands gesticulate with every question they ask, every story they tell. It's like they have a day's worth of energy that they've been building up while sitting in a lecture and making Phil a bunch of hot drinks.

"My family aren't big on going out to eat," Phil says, wondering how many times Dan's foot needs to bump his own before he can make a joke about playing footsie. "You're lucky I know how to use a fork and knife."

Dan giggles again. Phil loves the sound of that so much more than he thinks he should be allowed to.

"Lucky me," Dan teases, reaching for Phil's ginger with their own deft chopsticks. Phil considers batting them away, maybe engaging in a chopstick swordfight, but then he remembers that they're in public. "I guess my family didn't go out to eat much either, but that was more about the lack of money than anything else."

For a moment, Phil doesn't know how to respond to that. He's never quite known how to react when people drop things like that in casual conversation. Dan doesn't seem to notice his hesitation, because they're too busy stealing some of Phil's edamame.

"My mum just thought nobody could cook as well as she did," Phil jokes, pulling his edamame closer to him protectively. "At least, that's what she told us. I think she just couldn't be bothered wrangling us."

"You've got siblings?" Dan asks. They sound genuinely interested in the answer.

It's not a date, Phil reminds himself. They're friends, and Dan just wants to get to know him better.

"I've got an older brother," says Phil. "So it was just the two of us, but I've often been told we were frustrating enough for ten."

Dan laughs. "I can imagine. I mean, I don't know your brother, but I bet you started poking your head where it didn't belong a long time before you started getting paid for it." Their foot nudges Phil's again, but this time it seems like it's on purpose. "Bet you were a handful - I know I was. My brother was easy, I think. I was there for most of it, I guess, and he never caused nearly as much trouble as I did, but I think we were head to head in the annoying race."

"I have been informed that I could be a bit of a handful."

"Shocker."

Phil gives in to the urge of doing something silly and tosses an edamame bean at Dan's face. There's no staff looking at them that he can see, and it makes a lovely peal of laughter burst from Dan, so he considers it a win all around.

"Does your family live around here?" Phil asks. Dan's accent clearly isn't local, but their family could have moved at any point.

Something twists in Dan's expression, too quickly for Phil to name it. They settle their chin in one of their open palms, resting both elbows on the table in a way that would have Phil's mum batting at them. "No," they say, strangely slow about it. They seem to be deciding how much they want to say, because they end up shrugging and gesturing around vaguely with their free hand. "Adrian's with our uncle in Austria. No idea where exactly either of my parents are right now, but thank almighty fuck they're not somewhere together."

"Oh," Phil says. He doesn't really know what else to say. This is way out of his depth, not something he's had a lot of practice with talking about. It doesn't seem like it's particularly bothering Dan to talk about it, it's just that Phil has no idea how he's supposed to carry on a conversation with something like 'I'm glad my parents aren't together and I don't know where they live'.

Dan smiles rather kindly, like they know exactly what Phil is thinking and they don't blame him for it. Of course, Phil could be projecting wildly.

"It's okay," they say. Phil doesn't know them well enough to be able to tell when they're lying for sure, but they seem sincere enough. "I've been living on my own for a few years and don't keep up with them much. I go south to see my nana sometimes."

"That's good," Phil says blankly, chasing another piece of sashimi for something else to focus on. The last thing he wants to do is say the wrong thing and make Dan feel uncomfortable being around him.

"Do you get to see your family a lot?" Dan asks.

The question is a normal one, and his family is a topic that Phil usually jumps to discuss, but things are rocky enough emotionally for him right now that he can't even muster up the regular amount of enthusiasm. He shrugs. "I talk to them a couple times a week and see them every few months or so? Martyn lives in London, so I get to see him more often, but he's also like... much busier than I am. Mostly I just stay home with Peej and Sophie and Chris."

"I really like them," Dan informs him. It's more of an announcement than a casual observation, like they think it's important for Phil to know what they think of his friends.

It is. That's very important to Phil.

If this were a date - which it isn't - then Phil would probably crack some jokes about how much less fun they are when he's trying to have a lie-in or make a point of reminding Dan that Chris is flirtatious but harmless.

"I like them, too," he says instead. "They're all so weirdly nice to me that I think they're plotting my death, sometimes."

"I mean, that would get a lot of views," says Dan.

Phil laughs. "I can imagine it now. The mysterious life and death of Philip M. Lester... except my life isn't exactly mysterious, and PJ would not be good at lying to the police."

"You're a little mysterious," Dan says, pouring them both some more tea. They smile when Phil thanks them, their dimple in stark contrast in the lighting. "Not like you're skulking around in the night or whatever - but, listen, you do also do that. I just mean that it's... hard to tell what you're thinking."

"Good," Phil says lightly.

Luckily, Dan laughs like it's a joke. They don't need to be introduced to the exact height of Phil's emotional walls so early in the friendship.

"For example," Dan continues like they haven't been interrupted, "I've noticed that you keep staring at my mug, and I can't tell if it's because you're an insanely jealous Pokémon nerd or if you're trying to figure out what weird animals they are."

Talking about Pokémon is way easier than talking about family or friends or his own shortcomings as a human, so Phil jumps on the topic like he's been handed a life jacket. Dan has a surprisingly deep well of opinions about the games, and Phil starts to really enjoy himself while needling Dan with his own thoughts. Sometimes he pretends like he disagrees completely just to see the way Dan gets passionate, gesturing and getting louder and Googling facts to back their arguments up.

They've got a lot of other media in common, too, and Phil keeps waiting for Dan to not have an opinion on something. It hasn't happened yet. Even with things they haven't watched or read yet, they chatter on about reviews they've seen or theories they've been hearing. The singular time that Phil asks about a film they've never even heard of, Dan grins wide and asks him to tell them about it.

By the time their dinner and dessert and tea are all gone and the staff are starting to give them looks, Phil feels like he's never connected this quickly and easily with someone in his whole life. That's a dangerous thought, but it's also a nice one.

This isn't a date, because this can't be a date, because Dan isn't a guy and Phil only dates guys. Even so, when Phil pays the bill and follows Dan out to the pavement, he feels the bubbling nervousness that he associates with the endings of first dates. Dan walks him to his bus stop, rambling about how Phil must be watching The Walking Dead wrong if he really thinks it's boring. Their cheeks are rosy with the chilly air and the tips of their ears are bright pink. They are ridiculously, unbelievably cute. Phil wishes he could stop noticing details like that, things that are going to make it even harder for him to put that platonic distance between them.

Dan sways into his space a bit when they stop at the empty bus stop, but Phil can't tell if it's on purpose or if Dan is just wiggling around like they usually are.

"This was fun," they say, wrapping up their rant with zero segue.

"I think so," Phil agrees with a little smile. He checks the bus schedule on his phone for probably the fourteenth time today, anxious about missing it or getting on the wrong one or something and having to call his parents with a favour to ask. "And, hey, I'm in town again tomorrow if you want me haunting your place of work again."

Dan grins wide, the streetlights' warmth catching in their eyes and teeth in a mesmerizing sort of way. "I'm not working tomorrow," they say. "But I'd be happy to hang out after my lecture. What are you doing in town?"

"Oh," Phil says, then pauses. He remembers the fierceness in Dan's voice when they told him not to go back to the house by himself. Still, it's not like there's anything they can do to make him stay out of there. "I'm going back to the Wilkins place with my dad's old video camera. It's old, still uses tape, so I'm thinking corruption might not work on it."

"You're going back there by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm going back," says Phil. He raises his eyebrows, daring Dan to keep arguing.

Dan is good at arguing, but once Phil has made his mind up about something, it's going to take a lot more than a persuasive pretty person telling him what to do to make him change it. Normally it would be annoying for someone to even try, but as confident as Phil is in his own ability to out-stubborn anyone on the topic of his own work, there's a part of him that thinks it's kind of sweet for Dan to worry so much. Ugh. He's got it bad.

It seems like some of his resolve is obvious in his expression or the set of his shoulders or whatever, because Dan just sighs loudly.

"Fine," they say. "I've got a Polaroid, I'll bring that too."

That hadn't been a tactic that Phil was anticipating. He's wrong-footed for a long moment or two as he waits for Dan to say they're kidding. "Uh," he says slowly. "You're not coming."

"Like fuck I'm not." Dan's stubborn face looks a lot like a frustrated, pouting toddler, but Phil still feels some of the effect. "You aren't going back there alone, I told you. I'm not letting you. And, sure, I don't know all the tricks of the trade or what the fuck ever, but you need someone to watch your back and make sure you don't stumble into more trouble. I'm your guy."

"You're not a guy," Phil says, because he doesn't really know what else to say.

That breaks Dan's seriousness, and they giggle into their large hand. Phil is already trying to apologise, but Dan waves him off like he's being ridiculous. "First of all," they say, "it's a figure of speech. And second of all, I'm not not a guy."

Phil can't think about that right now. His bus is visible a couple streets away and the last thing he needs is more confusion about Dan's identity on his plate.

"Sorry," Phil says again, just in case.

Dan rolls their eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm free after noon."

"Well, we won't go over there until after it gets dark," says Phil. "But I'll text you. We can - I dunno. Get something that's not sushi. Or just get sushi again, honestly, because I'm obsessed with it."

"Same," says Dan, dimples in full force. "We'll figure something out, anyway."

Before Phil can say anything else, Dan sways back into his space and gives him a tight, fleeting hug. "Tomorrow," they repeat before pulling away.

"Tomorrow," Phil agrees. His stomach is in knots and his bus is approaching, so all he can manage is a dorky wave before he has to start digging for change and preparing to make small talk with the bus driver. Dan waits until he's on the bus and gives him a two-finger salute before heading back down the way they'd come.

That detail, the fact that Dan had gone completely out of their way to walk Phil somewhere that he'd been vaguely anxious about, is almost enough to undo all of Phil's careful explanations of their actions towards him.

It wasn't a date. Phil hadn't asked them on a date.

But he's certain now, in a way that he's never been before, that he hadn't been the only one half-wishing it was.

Phil can't move.

He's not in the comfortable dullness of his childhood bedroom, where he'd fallen asleep. He's got rough wood under his back and dusty rafters above his head. He can hear the insistent sound of rain hitting the roof, but aside from that the attic is quiet.

He is alone in the Wilkins place and he can't move. For a very, very long time, nothing happens.

Then he feels pressure on his chest that hadn't been there before. He still can't see anything, but it's getting harder and harder to take breaths.

Just when he thinks he's going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Phil wakes up.

"I've had nightmares about places we've investigated before," he says into the phone, hiding out in the kitchen while his parents watch some early morning news broadcast. He's got his clothes in the wash with some of his dad's stuff, so he's taken up roost at the breakfast bar with some cereal and he's been zoning out while looking at the spin cycle. "But they've never felt like... that."

"Like how?" Martyn asks. He's yawning a bit, and Phil almost feels bad about waking him so early.

"Like, real," says Phil. "I don't know how else to describe it, Mar. It felt like I was really there, like something was really sitting on my chest. I could smell the dust and hear the rain and - it felt real."

"Maybe it's not such a good idea to go back, then."

Phil huffs. "Are you kidding me? This just means I'm onto something."

"No, it means you're making reckless decisions because you want to be right so badly that you're willing to ignore warning signs," Martyn says flatly. "And, sure, maybe that's because there's actually something to investigate there, but is that a risk you're willing to take?"

The Wilkins place has never exactly been welcoming; Phil felt like there was someone watching him from the beginning, like they weren't alone in the old walls. And maybe it's stupid of him to keep going back when things had escalated last time into something he had no control over at all, but he knows he's right about this. That makes it hard for him to let go of it, to admit defeat and go back to Brighton with his tail between his legs.

This is his town. It doesn't matter that he's left or that his parents are leaving, too. These are the hills and the streets and the graveyards and the hospitals that he'd followed Martyn through until he was old enough to brave it on his own. He doesn't like the idea that something so relatively new could run him out of town with a nightmare and some flickering lights.

Maybe he does have something to prove. He doesn't plan on doing anything stupid, but he can at least recognise that the simple act of returning at night is stupid enough for the people who care about him to worry.

"I'll have Dan with me," says Phil.

"Oh, okay," Martyn says like he's found a corner piece in a jigsaw puzzle. "So there's a bloke involved."

Phil wants to say that Dan isn't a bloke, but he's got Dan's voice in his head semi-permanently now. He's pretty sure that Dan wouldn't object to the classification, and might even say that they're not not a bloke. Instead, he just sighs loudly. "It's not about Dan, knobhead. But they're, uh, kind of jumpy. So I won't spend more time in the Wilkins place than I strictly need to, okay? For their sake if nothing else."

"Promise?"

"Sure," Phil says, with far more irritation than he actually feels. If he acts prickly, then Martyn won't push. "Did you find out anything else about this place?"

"Not really," Martyn says through another yawn. "I guess Frankie said that some kids were fucking around with spells or something earlier this year? His sister and her friends got in shit for breaking and entering."

"Spells, okay." Phil pulls his phone away from his ear to make a note of that. "I think that was all the sigils we found upstairs, but I'll look closer at the other rooms."

"Be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

Phil hangs up before his brother can start pulling out any receipts.

#quiet on widow's peak #words words words

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phantasticworks · 5 years ago

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If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter Five

An early update for once? Perhaps. Thank you everyone for reading and for all the lovely comments I’ve seen, I appreciate it a lot!

read on ao3

Words: 12.6k

Summary: Dan and Phil face more difficulties in their personal life while they wait for a decision to be made on their foster parent status.

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, mentions of alcohol and sickness

The next morning is arguably a bit better than the night before, in some ways. In several other ways, however, it’s worse.

In the light of day, it’s easy to forget any of the conversations they’d had the night before that may or may not have left Dan feeling guilty and sad, but one thing that’s not easy to forget is the headache he’s got. He expected it, naturally, but he had been half-hoping that the paracetamol from the night before would have had a bit more effect on his head, rather than just relieving his nausea of the night before. He groans at the light coming in the window, rolling over and throwing an arm over his eyes. As he does this, he realizes that he’s got a fair bit of space on the bed, which he’s a little surprised by.

Sure enough, when he sits up and glances around, the bed is empty besides himself, which he frowns upon realizing. It’s not like he fully expected Phil to stay with him the whole morning, but, well… he’d hoped.

Just as he goes to crawl out of the bed and into the bathroom, Phil steps into the room, his eyebrows shooting up when he looks at Dan. “Oh, good, you’re up.” He smiles, and Dan shifts, wondering if he’s in a good mood or just pretending to keep things from being awkward.

“Yeah,” Dan croaks, cringing when he hears his voice.

Phil nods to the water on the nightstand, leaning against the wall beside the big mirror he hates cleaning. “I brought that in here about an hour ago, but you were dead to the world.” His lips quirk up as he says this, and Dan can’t help but mirror his small smile as he takes a sip of the water, now room temperature.

“Thanks,” he says appreciatively, balancing the cup on his knee. “How long have you been up?”

Shrugging, Phil moves to come sit beside him, his eyes watching the cup warily. Dan rolls his eyes and brings his other hand up to clutch the cup, mainly to calm Phil’s nerves about the precariousness of it. “I’ve been up since nine, and it’s almost twelve now, so… that long.” Phil shrugs before he brings his hand up to Dan’s forehead. “How’re you feeling?” He asks, his blue eyes searching Dan’s face for any sign of discomfort.

Dan subtly presses forward, pressing his forehead harder against Phil’s hand, mainly because it relieves a bit of the tension. “My head hurts,” he says simply.

At this, Phil snorts, dropping his hand. “I’m sure it does, mate. You drank a lot.” His eyes drop then, staring down at the glass rather than at Dan’s face. Dan can imagine what he’s thinking, but he’s already decided not to share the truth behind the way he’d acted the night before. He did, however, come up with a semi-convincing half-truth.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, moving his hand to poke Phil’s thigh. He smiles when Phil rolls his eyes at the childish gesture. “I… I guess just having your family here sort of overwhelmed me, and I got to thinking about it and how they probably think this is crazy, and I guess I just feel like you’re going to change your mind,” he admits, staring down at his hands wrapped around the glass of water. He’s surprised at how easy it comes to him, but then he realizes he’s really not lying. Sure, it wasn’t unfounded fear, but beneath the anger of hearing Martyn trying to dissuade Phil from doing this with him, Dan truly did believe that the main reason he’d acted that way was because it made him afraid that Phil would change his mind.

“Dan,” Phil says quietly, causing Dan to look up. He gives him a soft smile, knocking his knee against Dan’s gently. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you. I told you I would do this, I’m going to do it. You know I don’t back out of things once I’ve made up my mind.”

His words do ease some of Dan’s anxiety about it, but he’s still concerned about what would happen if Phil regretted it or decided at some point he didn’t want to do it anymore. Honestly, it would be better for him to just admit it now, even if Dan didn’t want it to happen, because it would be much harder if they’d already started fostering when he comes to the conclusion that Dan fears he might. Still, Dan desperately didn’t want that to happen at all, so he really hopes that somehow it won’t.

Rather than sit and dwell on this on a perfectly good Saturday morning, Dan nods, smiling weakly at Phil. “Okay.”

Phil smiles before moving to stand up. “Think you can get up or do you just wanna have a lazy day today?” He asks, reaching for Dan’s almost empty cup, likely to refill it.

“I think I’m going to take a shower and see how I feel after that,” Dan replies, handing him the cup and sliding off the bed. “Did you want to do anything today or is it okay if we just hang out here?” He rifles through his side of their closet as he speaks, glancing over his shoulder when Phil doesn’t immediately answer. It’s only then that he realizes he’s very much underdressed, in only a pair of boxers for once, not even a t-shirt thrown over it. He blushes as he feels Phil’s gaze on him, stuttering out an apology as he shuffles to the bathroom, not even waiting for a response as he goes to take a shower.

Slightly mortified at the fact that just happened but not fully understanding why, Dan starts the water in the shower, waiting for it to get nice and warm while he brushes his teeth. A moment later, he pulls his boxers off, tossing them off to the side somewhere and stepping into the shower, pulling the frosted glass door close behind him. He was so grateful that the en-suite bathroom had such a huge shower, and he was even more grateful for the nice clouded glass.

He's reminded just how thankful he is for this type of glass when the door to the bathroom swings open a minute later, nearly making him jump. Luckily the glass is pre-made to be hard to see through and the steam from the hot water had managed to make it even more so.

“I brought you some more water and paracetamol, Dan.” Phil’s voice carries from the door, and Dan can just make out the vague outline of him through the glass. “I’m gonna pop down to the shop, do you need anything?”

Dan thinks for a moment as he lets the water run over his hair, considering Phil’s offer. “Lemonade would be nice,” he calls back softly, incredibly aware of the fact that the only thing keeping Phil from seeing his naked body is a layer of glass. He can’t explain the slight spike in his heart rate at the thought, although he chooses to blame it on nerves.

“Okay,” Phil laughs quietly. “I’ll be back in a bit, call if you need anything.”

The door closes behind him softly, and only then does Dan relax, closing his eyes as he tries to get his thoughts on literally anything other than the fact that his best friend was so close to seeing him so… exposed, for lack of a better word. Sure, they’d known each other for ten years and had lived together for a good portion of that, and there’d been that time, nearly a decade ago when they’d met… but Dan refuses to remember that, so he goes right back to thinking about how much his head hurts instead. Anything to keep his thoughts away from… that.

He showers quickly, although he does want to take advantage of the vacant flat and relieve some stress, he’s just not feeling up to it. His head is hurting and he’s just not feeling well enough to even enjoy a proper wank, so he doesn’t bother. Instead he showers as quickly as he can, skipping conditioner in favor of getting out and back into bed sooner.

He changes into the sweats and t-shirt he’d brought in, taking the paracetamol Phil had left for him and hoping he can stomach some crackers or something to avoid getting sick. He’s surprised only slightly to find that Phil has also left him some toast on his nightstand, and while it’s probably not as warm as it would’ve been if he’d eaten it when it was made, the gesture behind it makes him tear up a little bit. He blames this on his hangover, shoving whatever pathetic emotion that is down while he goes to eat his toast.

After he’s finished and laying on his side, his eyes closed as he tries to encourage sleep, he listens carefully for any indication that Phil has returned. He hates himself a little for it, but he desperately misses his best friend, and he feels that with everything that’s happened he hasn’t really had any time with just Phil lately. He can’t explain it really, but he misses how things were before everything became such a complicated charade.

At some point between laying down and going down this spiral of thoughts, Dan must fall asleep, because the next thing he knows, he’s being woken up by the feeling of a blanket being pulled over him. “Phi-?” He mumbles, his voice coming out garbled with sleep.

“Hey. It’s just me. Go back to sleep.” Phil’s voice is quiet and soothing, and Dan sighs in relief, catching the older man’s hand as he pulls the blanket up and over Dan’s shoulders.

“Missed you,” Dan sighs, squeezing Phil’s hand once before letting go. He’s exhausted and doesn’t want to open his eyes, but just knowing that Phil is there makes him feel at ease. “Sorry I’ve been such a shit friend lately.” The words tumble out of his mouth without his permission, but they’re true and need to be said, honestly.

“Dan...” Phil sighs, sounding tired. “You need to quit apologizing. Everything is fine. Just get some rest, okay?” Dan feels his hand come up to brush against his forehead, and Dan nearly shivers at the contact.

“M’kay.” He feels the bed shift again, probably indicating that Phil is leaving, and Dan reaches out to tug on his T-shirt. “Stay here?” He pleads. He was whiny when he was ill, but he felt less guilty about it since he was also half asleep.

A sigh escapes Phil’s mouth, but Dan feels him shift to lay down. “Just for a few minutes, then I’ve gotta go do some things. Okay?”

Dan only hums in reply, already too gone in unconsciousness to respond.

~~~

The rest of the day is slow, even by their standards. Dan wakes at one point to find Phil asleep next to him, and from the looks of things, he’d never left to go do some things after all. The thought makes Dan smile, and he tries his best to be subtle as he studies Phil as he sleeps. He’s vaguely aware of how creepy this is, but he brushes the thought away. They share a bed, and he’d just woken up to find Phil asleep not six inches away; of course he was going to look at him, he was bored, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. At least, that’s what he tells himself to justify it as his eyes study the shape of Phil’s lips and the lines around his eyes.

When Phil eventually wakes, Dan has the common sense to act like he’d only been awake a few minutes rather than the half hour he’d probably truthfully been up. Luckily, Phil buys this easily, more concerned with how Dan is feeling.

“I’m better. The nap helped,” he admits, sitting up and stretching. He smirks at the face Phil pulls upon hearing his back pop, and just to be a pest, he does the same motion again.

“Stop that!” Phil complains, shoving him. “It’s disgusting.”

Dan shrugs before climbing out of bed and grabbing his phone. “Wanna go watch Riverdale with me?”

Phil sighs dramatically but nods. “Yeah. We should order something. How does Chinese sound?”

“Sure,” Dan agrees easily, leading the way to the upstairs lounge. They had the one downstairs, but their TV was upstairs, which sometimes, he admitted, was a little annoying.

Their day is completely unproductive in every sense of the word, but Dan feels more relaxed than he has in a while. They don’t talk much, only to make fun of the characters on the show they’re watching. They certainly don’t talk about what had happened the night before, which Dan is honestly grateful for. Instead they spend the rest of Saturday and most of the day Sunday just hanging out and watching various shows and movies on Netflix. At some point Phil makes them go grocery shopping, but other than that, they stay completely unproductive.

By Monday, Dan feels well rested and ready for another week of school counseling and after-school foster carer training sessions. He’s standing in their bedroom buttoning the buttons on the solid black shirt he’s picked out for today when Phil walks in, his eyes raking over Dan as he walks over to their bed. Dan quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on this, considering Phil was probably just amused at the fact that he was in all black, yet again.

Proving his thought correct, Phil nods to the closet as he climbs onto the bed and leans back against the headboard. “You have shirts that aren’t black, you know. And so do I.” His eyebrow is raised as a smile twitches at his lips, clearly challenging.

Dan shrugs, fixing the cuff on his sleeve. “Yeah, and? This one looks good.” He goes to put on his shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Phil’s feet as he pulls them on.

Phil’s foot comes up to prod at his hip gently, and Dan smiles a little down at his shoes that he’s pulling on. “I didn’t say it didn’t,” Phil replies quietly. He’s watching Dan with an odd look on his face, and when Dan sits up to meet his gaze he feels a little self-conscious.

“Yeah?” he teases, dropping his hand to Phil’s foot and tracing the stars on the sock he’s wearing.

“Of course. We both know you look good in black,” Phil shrugs as if it’s obvious, and Dan feels a weird tug in his chest at the half-compliment. “It’s just like staring into a black hole when I look at you.” Phil grins as he says this, clearly finding himself very funny.

Rolling his eyes, Dan squeezes Phil’s foot before standing up. “You’re hilarious.” He grabs his phone from the end of the bed before lightly tapping Phil’s thigh with it. “Do you want to come have lunch with me today?” He’s not sure why he’s feeling so clingy all of a sudden, but he really does want them to have lunch together, since they haven’t done it in a while during the work week. It wasn’t uncommon for them to do it, but lately things have been so busy with either Phil’s job or his own, and they hadn’t been able to since before the whole fostering thing happened.

Phil nods, moving his foot to press his toes against Dan’s leg, as he’s standing so close to the bed. “Sure. Do you want me to pick something up on my way?”

“Yeah, that’ll work. Indian?” He’s hopeful as he says this, as he’s been craving Indian food lately.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want. See you at twelve?” Phil tilts his head and he looks so adorable sitting there looking up at him, Dan just wants to lean down and kiss him. Obviously, that would be completely weird, so he doesn’t do it.

Instead, he pokes the arch of Phil’s foot, making him jerk it away immediately. Dan only smiles and does it again, causing Phil to squeal and tuck his feet under the duvet. “See you later, dear. Don’t forget to stop for Indian food or I’ll break your hands,” Dan tosses the words over his shoulder as he walks out of their room, cursing himself for the term of endearment almost as soon as it’s left his mouth.

Phil doesn’t even seem to notice it, thankfully. “Be safe driving and wear your seatbelt, Daniel!” He calls back, making Dan smirk before muttering an agreement.

He drives to the school carefully, just as he’d promised, his seatbelt nice and snug across his chest. He’s only a little distracted this morning, mainly just replaying their conversation from earlier, his mind almost unable to wrap around the simple domesticity of it all. It had always been like that, he was sure, but lately it just seemed… sort of amplified, in a way he couldn’t really grasp entirely. Sure, a few aspects of their friendship had changed in some ways, but not in ways that should make Dan feel like he does now. He feels… content, actually. Content in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while.

Dan clears his head quickly when he gets to the school, trying to force himself into his work persona. He had things to do today, mainly things that involved schedules and some administrative work he didn’t want to bother with, but those were the perks of working in the education system, he supposed.

He’s barely even settled into his chair in his office when there’s a knock, the door opening before he can even respond. He isn’t too surprised to see Louise standing there, a smile on her face. “Sure, Lou, come on in, I’m not busy or anything.” He rolls his eyes fondly as he waves her in, knowing that she won’t be the slightest bit offended by his sarcasm.

“You’ve just gotten here, Daniel, we both know you aren’t fussed with work yet,” Louise laughs as she comes in, settling herself in one of the chairs across from him.

When she doesn’t immediately offer an explanation for her presence, Dan raises an eyebrow at her in question. “Can I help you?” he asks, trying not to laugh at the look of offense on her face.

“What a way to make a girl welcome!” She giggles along with him, clearly not truly bothered by his attitude.

Dan rolls his eyes before leaning on the desk, smiling at her. “Right, where are my manners?” She starts to answer, and he shoots her a look. “How are you, Louise? It’s so good to see you. Would you like some tea? What do you want?” He counts each question off on his fingers before smirking at her. “That cover everything?”

Louise rolls her eyes at him, giving him an unimpressed look. “Honestly, Dan, can’t I just come by and visit my favorite counselor?” Her voice is sweet, and he’s immediately suspicious.

“No,” he answers immediately, shaking his head. “I think you’re up to something.”

She looks guilty, and he knows he’s right. “Alright, fine, I did have a question, or more of a request.” She bats her eyes at him as if it’s going to soften the blow for whatever horrible thing she’s about to say, and he just waves her on to get it out. “Well, you’re obviously very busy these days with wedding planning and what have you.” Dan’s proud of himself for containing his confusion for a second before he realizes what she’s referencing. Then he’s stiffening in nervousness, worried about whatever is about to come out of her mouth.

“Yeah…” He drags the word out, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “And you’re mentioning this because?”

Louise smiles and sets her hands on the desk, looking like she’s about to try and sell him a membership to some sort of exclusive company. “Well, obviously I’ve met Phil before, but not as your fiancé,” she starts, and Dan’s stomach twists. He’s afraid he knows where this is going, and he’s not sure he likes it. “So, I think you should have him join us for lunch!” She beams, as if this is the best idea she’s ever had.

Dan raises an eyebrow at this, propping his chin up on his hand. “Is that so?” He asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The blonde rolls her eyes, her smile dropping in favor of a pout. “Please, Dan! I know he comes to lunch sometimes, but I just want to know more about your relationship, and I feel like what better way to do that than having you both here for lunch?”

Her request actually makes sense, and he almost hates it that much more because of this. And it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she joined them for lunch, he supposed, since the more people knew, the more believable their little charade would be.

He sighs dramatically, sitting back in his seat and tossing his hands up in defeat. “You’re in luck this time,” he drawls, rolling his eyes as he pulls his phone out. “Phil was coming for lunch today anyway.”

Louise claps her hands excitedly, a huge smile on her face. “Yes! This’ll be so much fun, Dan.”

The brunette snorts at the idea that this is going to be a fun experience but chooses not to comment on that. “I need to ask him if it’s okay for you to join us though, because when we made plans this morning it was just going to be the two of us.” He shoots her a look as if this is an inconvenience for him, which he supposed it wasn’t really. He was just being a little reluctant because he wasn’t positive they could pull off the whole relationship thing to someone who thought it was actually real. Even though they’d pulled it off with Hazel, he wasn’t sure they could really convince someone who already knew them, but he guessed they were going to find out.

“Oh, hush. You get enough of him at home, share the man a little.” She winks as she says this, and Dan’s cheeks flush at the implications behind her words.

He rolls his eyes at her as he dials Phil’s number, glad that he knows that Phil won’t have left for work yet and should be close to his phone. It takes him a moment to answer, and when he does he sounds a little breathless. “Yes?”

Dan frowns, glancing at the phone for a moment before bringing it back up to his ear. “Are you okay? You sound strange.”

Phil clears his throat, and Dan thinks he almost sounds… embarrassed? No, maybe not embarrassed. Perhaps a little guilty. Dan hopes he hasn’t broken anything but knowing him there was honestly no telling. “I’m fine.” His voice does sound a little more normal, so Dan just assumes his phone was in a separate room and he’d had to rush to get it before it stopped ringing. That explains the shortness of breath when he’d answered, at least.

“Alright… I have a question.” Louise smiles sweetly at him from across his desk, and he rolls his eyes. “Do you mind if Louise joins us for lunch today? She insists on fleshing out every detail of our romance, preferably over lunch for some reason.” Louise shakes her head at this with a huff, but Dan only smirks.

He hears a laugh from the other end of the line, and Dan smiles since Phil hadn’t gotten annoyed at the suggestion. “That’s fine with me, Dan. Just text me what she wants from the Indian place and I’ll bring everything over around twelve.”

Dan nods, glancing over at Louise and giving her a nod, to which she claps quietly, a look of excitement on her face. “Alright.” Hyper-aware of Louise’s presence, he averts his eyes to his screen, slightly uncomfortable with the pressure of acting like a couple, even when his supposed other half wasn’t even present. “See you then, babe. Be safe.”

Phil giggles, likely at the pet name, and Dan vows to kick him for making it even more embarrassing as soon as Phil gets here. “Bye, Dan. Oh, I mean, bye babe.”

He tries very hard not to blush at the term, because it sounds very different coming from Phil’s lips, and Dan hates it. He hangs up without any further comment, well aware that calling Phil out about it with the audience he has will only end in an awkward explanation.

“There. Happy?” He says snidely, crossing his arms childishly as Louise stands, nodding happily.

“Very. See you at lunch, Dan!” She trills as she steps out of his office.

Before the door closes, he calls out, “Text me what you want for lunch, we’re having Indian takeaway!”

She responds with an affirmative and shuts the door. As soon as he hears the click, he drops his head to his desk, feeling as if he’s went and gotten himself into a proper mess.

~~~

When twelve finally rolls around, Dan is filtering through a stack of paperwork on his desk for students who would be taking their GCSEs at the end of the year, double checking that each of them was scheduled in a testing area and had an assigned date for their exams. He’s so focused on his work that he doesn’t notice the door swing open, until he hears a voice.

“Whatcha doing?” Dan glances up at the sound of Louise’s voice, finding her smiling as she bustles in with a bottle of Diet Coke.

He smiles at her, gesturing to the papers. “Working on GCSE scheduling,” he glances over at his phone, checking the time. “Phil should be here in a few minutes, I reckon.”

Louise nods, sitting in one of the chairs across from him. “How’s the scheduling coming along?” She asks, leaning over the table to look at the paper he’s been writing on.

He moves it so she can see it too, running his pen along a column. “It’s fine, but I actually had a question about this. I know this is just the first draft that you guys had sorted, but would it not make more sense to move the few year tens that are taking it to an earlier period? There’s a few that have some of their electives during that time, and I don’t think they should miss them.”

The blonde slips into professional mode seamlessly, her eyebrows furrowing as she scans the paper. “Hm… I’m not sure, Dan, because if we do that, we’ll need to move-“

The door opens then, interrupting her sentence. They both glance up and a smile graces Dan’s lips easily at the sight of his best friend. Phil shoots them a sheepish look after realizing they’re talking about something. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.” He glances over at Dan, an embarrassed smile tugging at his lips as he walks over to Dan’s side of the desk, setting the food down.

“You’re fine, love, you don’t have to knock.” Dan smiles, not even realizing he’d used the endearment until it’d already slipped out. He doesn’t even consider feeling embarrassed about it though, not after the smile that graces Phil’s face.

“Hi, Louise,” Phil smiles and nods to the blonde before surprising Dan as he leans closer to him, bracing one hand on the desk as he presses his lips to Dan’s cheek softly. The younger man tries very hard to fight the annoying fluttery feeling in his chest at the contact, since he knows it’s only for show because Louise is there. It’s brief, but he can still feel the warmth of his lips even after he pulls away. “Sorry I’m a bit late, but the food is fresh and warm, that’s for sure.”

Louise has such a pleased smile on her face as she looks between them, Dan very nearly rolls his eyes. “You’re perfectly fine, Phil. Sit, sit, I haven’t seen you in so long, we have loads to talk about.” She pats the seat beside her and Dan sends her a pleading look, mentally begging her not to make this weird or uncomfortable. He had a sneaking suspicion she was going to get way too personal and he would much rather avoid that.

“You’re right, it has been a while! We’ve just been so busy with the fostering and everything, it’s-“ Phil stops almost immediately, his eyes widening as he shoots Dan a panicked look.

There’s a silence in the room where Dan contemplates jumping out the window to avoid Louise’s reaction, but then Phil would be on his own with her, and he couldn’t do that to him. So instead of that, he just sighs, sending Phil a smile that says It’s fine, before glancing over at Louise. She looks a mix of confused, excited, and angry, and he knows she’s feeling left out of the loop.

“Before you ask, Lou,” Dan starts, holding his hands up when the blonde looks at him. “I wasn’t hiding it or trying to be sneaky. I just didn’t want to tell anyone until we got further along in the process.” He glances over at Phil, who looks guilty. He sends him a reassuring smile, hoping that that’s enough for now.

“I… I’m just surprised, is all,” Louise admits finally.

Dan shifts in his chair, unsure of how he’s meant to take that. “Is that, like… an insult?” He asks tentatively, sharing a look with Phil.

“No, no, definitely not!” Louise rushes to say, holding her hands up as if to wave away the accusation. “I just… I’m surprised that you two are doing something so big so soon, before you’ve even married.” She doesn’t sound judgmental in the slightest, but still Dan feels a pang of hurt in his chest and looks down, chewing his lip anxiously.

Phil, always in tune with Dan’s every thought and emotion, speaks up then. “Well, we’ve been together ten years… does it matter that we aren’t married yet?” Dan’s eyes flit up to meet his, almost in panic, but Phil is just studying him carefully with a small smile on his lips. “I mean, marriage is essentially just a piece of paper, right?” He turns to look at Louise now, and Dan’s a little nervous for the direction this conversation seems to be taking. To distract himself, he begins pulling out the containers of food and sorting them out to who they belong to.

“Well, I mean, in some ways, yeah,” Louise says slowly, apparently not following exactly what Phil is saying. Dan’s heard the speech, or a variation of it, a million times, so he’s pretty sure he knows where it’s going. Phil was against marriage, denying that it held any real value. Dan didn’t disagree exactly, but… he wasn’t so sure he wanted to relive this conversation in front of his coworker and good friend, especially since they were still trying to keep up the appearances of an engaged couple.

Phil shifts in his seat, glancing over at Dan as he does, their gaze catching for only a moment before Dan looks down again. He didn’t want to look at him while he heard Phil tear apart the concept of marriage, he just couldn’t do it, not with the circumstances. He braces himself for what he knows is coming, because he definitely can’t just tell him to stop talking, not since he’s gotten this far.

Instead, Dan is surprised when he hears Phil say something else entirely.

“Well, think about it. Marriage is symbolic. It’s not going to make me love him more. I won’t wake up the morning after the wedding thinking, “wow, I love this human more than I did before. That’s ridiculous.” Phil shakes his head. Meanwhile, Dan is trying desperately not to show his inner turmoil over hearing Phil say that four letter word with such ease, in association with him. Sure, they’d said it to each other over the years; they were best friends, of course they loved each other, but it had been a while since it had been expressed so bluntly. The fact that the context was different in this situation also didn’t do his clenching heart any favors.

Louise seems dumbstruck, and Dan meets her gaze with an embarrassed sort of smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever considered it like that. That’s… quite a good point, actually.” She seems to have a strange sort of moment then, where she just sits back and looks over at Dan, an odd look on her face. Dan hands them each their food, hoping the conversation will change course now, but of course Louise has to go and say something else. “What made you decide to do it, if you think it’s just symbolic? What changed your mind?”

Phil glances up at her, a conflicted look on his face before he looks over at Dan. Dan’s stomach churns at the fond smile on Phil’s face when their gazes meet, unable to help himself from mirroring the expression. “Dan did.” His eyes are light and if Dan didn’t know any better, he would say that he was being absolutely honest, rather than lying through his teeth like Dan knew he was for the sake of keeping up their appearances.

Only able to handle so much cheesiness at once, Dan rolls his eyes, fondly. “That’s enough of that for today, I think.” It’s nearly impossible for him to will his blush away, but he thinks he manages it well enough. “How’s work been today?” He directs this question to Phil.

His blue eyes light up, and Dan has to repress a smile at how cute he looks so excited about his job. “It’s actually been great. I think we’ve got a few guests lined up for the new game segment we’re trying out for the next couple weeks. I’m really hoping that’s a success, since we’ve got Nick Jonas and Demi Lovato coming on to play in about two weeks. Oh, and we’ve been planning more for the project we’re working on this weekend.” Phil glances at Louise then, a sheepish look on his face as he seems to realize that he’s only speaking to Dan, not really explaining the things he’s doing in detail since Dan already knows so much about it. “Sorry, I get a little carried away about the radio show. If someone doesn’t stop me, I’ll talk for hours.”

Dan rolls his eyes, nodding. “I can attest to this.” Phil pouts at him, but then Dan finally processes something Phil had said. “Wait, this weekend? What’s this weekend?” His eyebrows knit together as he thinks back to their calendar, trying to remember if Phil had a trip coming up. He thought it wasn’t another two weeks until he was meant to have a work trip, so this must be something else.

Phi shoots him a curious look. “We’re filming that mini documentary this weekend. In Ireland,” he adds, as if that’ll help jog Dan’s memory. “Did you forget about that?” He doesn’t sound upset or annoyed, just curious, and Dan ducks his head and shrugs.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s a little sad that Phil wouldn’t be home, as he hadn’t prepared to be alone for an entire weekend. He’s vaguely aware of how pathetic that sounds, even in his own head, but he felt that he’d grown sort of reliant on the constant company, and it would just be strange to be alone for that long after so long of sharing their space all the time. He shrugs in response to Phil’s question, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. “No, I guess not.”

Louise pipes up then, a look of glee on her face. “Aww, poor thing, you’ll miss him, won’t you?” She says this so sweetly, and Dan can tell she’s just eating up this opportunity to tease him about his relationship. If only she knew the truth.

He rolls his eyes at her. “Obviously I’ll miss him, Lou.” He shakes his head at the ridiculousness of such a question. Even if they weren’t pretending to be in a relationship he’d miss him; Phil was his best friend.

“Dan’s clingy, isn’t he?” The blonde turns to Phil, a sly smile on her face.

Dan glares at her, crossing his arms. “I am not,” he protests, rolling his chair over to his mini fridge to get a drink. He only had one bottle of Coke, and he made a mental note to get more the next time he went to the grocery store.

Phil smirks at him, shrugging. “A bit, but not in a bad way,” he answers Louise’s question, causing Dan to send him a heated glare. “I’m the same way, Dan, and you know it.” Phil only rolls his eyes at the look on Dan’s face, not affected in the slightest.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, taking a sip of the drink before handing it to Phil. “You’re lucky I’m sharing this now, after that comment. It’s my last one.” He’s fully aware of how childish he sounds, but he feels it’s justified after Phil called him out like that.

“Thank you, love,” Phil says sweetly, his eyes dancing with amusement when their gazes meet. Dan almost takes the drink back then, just on principle, but he isn’t that cruel.

“You two are well adorable and all, but it’s a bit like watching two children fighting,” Louise observes, looking highly amused by this.

“Believe me, I know,” Dan sighs, dropping his chin onto his hand as he gets back to his food.

The rest of their lunch is spent talking and teasing, and Dan eases into their charade more than he thought he would. It’s honestly no different than normal, aside from a few added pet names here and there, which Dan doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, he’s quite enjoying it, fake as it is, because hearing those terms drop so easily from Phil’s lips is a little intoxicating to him.

Eventually, though, it ends, as Louise is called back to her office about fifteen minutes before their break ends, a disciplinary matter awaiting her. She insists that they meet for lunch more often, sending Phil a wink as she leaves them alone. Dan, drained from every aspect of that interaction, drops his head to his desk, sighing. He hears the chair in front of him shifting as Phil stands, followed by the sound of his footsteps drawing closer, sitting on the edge of the desk beside where Dan’s head was. Dan sighs again when he feels Phil’s hand drop to his hair, his hand raking through the curls in a comforting way.

“You okay, bear?” He asks softly. Dan’s heart clenches at this particular nickname, as he’d always had a soft spot for Phil calling him that. It’d been happening more recently, he’d noticed, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, tilting his head to look up at Phil. “Just… Louise can be a lot.”

Phil smiles at this, nodding. “Yeah… But I think we did okay, yeah?”

Dan can only return the smile, nodding. He closes his eyes as Phil pets his hair for a few more moments, wishing more than anything that they were home. With a resigned sigh, he sits up, effectively causing Phil to remove his hand. “I guess you need to get back to work.” He hates the idea, but he’s comforted in the thought that he’ll get to see him later at home.

“Yeah.” He tilts his head, concern on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look tired.”

Dan shrugs this off, clearing the food items off his desk. “I am tired,” he jokes, not missing the look Phil sends him. “I’m fine, promise. What time are you coming home?”

Phil sighs at the change in topic but answers him anyway. “The show’s over at four, so I’ll be home after that.”

“You don’t have to stay and work on anything else?” Dan asks timidly, unsure if he should even hope that he says no.

A smile tugs at Phil’s lips, and he doesn’t hide it very well at all. “Nope. I’ll be home as soon as I can be.” Then, surprising Dan for the second time in one hour, he leans in, kissing Dan’s forehead gently. “See you at home, Dan. Be careful driving, okay?” He waits for Dan’s nod of affirmation before he smiles and stands, carrying the trash from their lunch out with him as he goes.

“Thank you for lunch,” Dan calls before Phil gets to the door, propping his head up with his hand and sending Phil a tired smile when he looks back at him.

Phil just shakes his head, a fond look on his face. “I’ll see you later, Dan.”

Dan can only smile at this, watching as the door shuts. Only then does he let himself consider that today felt different, that he felt different. He absolutely refused to acknowledge the little voice in his head that wanted to give him suggestions about why that might be, and instead dragged his paperwork back out, busying himself with important things, like his career.

There was no room for second guessing his relationship with his best friend in his life right now, especially not with everything that was currently staked on them successfully acting as if they were a happy couple. He absolutely wasn’t about to ruin that with any of these irritating thoughts about what he used to feel. Even if things did feel a little similar to that time now, he couldn’t simply put aside everything else about their life or their friendship to revisit feelings he may or may not have felt nearly ten years ago. That was ridiculous.

At least, that’s what he tells himself repeatedly the rest of the afternoon, as he struggles to focus on the rows of names on the sheets in front of him.

Needless to say, it was a long day.

~~~

Phil hadn’t been lying when he said his trip to Ireland was that weekend, and even after Dan double checked their shared calendar in the office, he still frowned, wondering how on earth he’d gotten the dates mixed up. He doesn’t ponder this too long, as their evenings are still filled with foster carer training, and on one evening that week, another home visit from Hazel, which goes just as well as the last. She informs them that they have a date for their panel meeting, and they’re both excited to see that the process is moving along so smoothly.

By the time Thursday rolls around and Phil is actually getting packed for his trip, Dan is pretty much exhausted. He’s by no means happy that his best friend will be gone for four days, but he’s slightly relieved that at least he can nap the majority of the day and catch up on various chores around the house without fear of judgement.

Thursday night they’re sat in their bedroom as Phil packs his things. Dan was sitting on the bed, watching Phil with a pout on his face as he collected his clothes and shoved them in the bag. Despite his typical habit to procrastinate to the last moment with his own packing, Dan is rather bossy as his best friend packs, reminding him constantly of things he might’ve forgotten.

“Do you have your charger?” He asks, holding onto his legs as he sits criss-cross at the end of the bed beside Phil’s bag, peering over into it with concern.

Phil rolls his eyes at him, nodding. “Yes.”

“And your passport?” Dan’s aware that he sounds a bit like a helicopter mum, but he hates the idea of Phil flying on his own and forgetting something, with Dan not there to help him. Sure, he’d flown alone plenty of times, but Dan still felt that he should be there with him.

“Dan. Relax. I’ve got everything, okay?” Phil tosses a couple pairs of socks into the bag, sending Dan a reassuring smile.

Dan shifts, feeling a bit defensive. “I just wanted to make sure,” he says, his voice unintentionally small.

Phil stops moving around then, seeming to pick up on Dan’s mood. He stops and kneels down in front of Dan, dropping his hands to the younger man’s knees. “I know you’re just concerned, and I appreciate that. But I’m fine, okay? I’ve got all my ducks in a row, I promise.” He smiles then, his blue eyes bright. Dan can tell how excited he is for this trip, and he hates himself for worrying so much, probably dampening Phil’s desire to go.

“Okay,” Dan mumbles, dropping his gaze down to his hands that are folded in his lap.

“Hey,” Phil says gently, drawing Dan’s eyes back to his own. He’s got a soft look on his face as he reaches up, tucking a curl back into place atop Dan’s head. “I’m not upset with you for trying to help. I’m glad you care that much.” His lips stretch into a smile at this, and Dan averts his eyes from his best friend’s lips immediately, meeting his gaze again.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d prefer if you didn’t die or run out of clothes or get there and not have your- do you have your contacts?” He breaks his own train of thought to rifle through Phil’s bag. He’s surprised when he feels his hands being tugged gently away.

“Yes, I do. And you need to stop worrying. I’ll let you check my bag when I’m done packing to make sure I’ve got everything, but until then you’ve gotta quit worrying. Deal?” He offers, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

Dan considers it for a moment before shrugging, nodding. Phil smiles and stands again, moving around the room to finish collecting all his things. Dan sighs, laying back on the bed. There’s a thought bouncing around in his head, and he knows he doesn’t need to voice it, but he wants to say it so badly it feels like he’s suffocating with the weight of it.

Finally, he can’t stand it any longer. Without sitting up, he says, “Did you mean what you said about marriage earlier?”

Almost immediately, he regrets asking, but he needs to know. The room is silent for a moment, and he’s a little concerned that maybe Phil didn’t hear, but then he hears an awkward chuckle. “Which part?” He asks, sounding a little nervous.

Dan shrugs, considering this. “The part where you said that it was basically just a symbol because it didn’t change how much you love- someone.” He very pointedly does not use his own name in that narrative, because he knows that this thing between them isn’t real, and he doesn’t want to put words in Phil’s mouth.

Again, another silence. Dan props himself up on his elbows for this, looking over at Phil. The older man is stood by their closet, his eyes locked on some spot on the lower wall, chewing his lip. He looked deep in thought, but he answers without looking away from that spot. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve always thought, to an extent.”

Dan lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, laying back down. For some reason, that doesn’t sate his curiosity about the topic, and his brain supplies that maybe that wasn’t the part of the conversation earlier that he’d wanted clarification on. He pushes that thought far, far out of his mind immediately. “Oh,” he murmurs softly, unsure what else to say.

It’s quiet for a moment before Phil comes back over, dropping something else into his bag before he comes to stand just between Dan’s legs that are dangling off the bed. Dan glances up at him at the contact, very pointedly not thinking about the fact that he’s laid down, stretched out on the bed, with Phil standing over him like this. He very carefully keeps his gaze on Phil’s face and his thoughts on things like Slenderman and dead puppies, because god knows he hasn’t had time to release any sort of tension recently, so this position could very easily become a problem.

“Why do you ask?” Phil inquires, staring down at Dan with a strange look on his face. Dan shrugs, letting his eyes trail up to Phil’s quiff and then up to the ceiling.

“No reason, I guess. I just thought it was interesting, since I’ve heard you rant about how stupid marriage is for years.” He keeps his voice neutral, and it wasn’t as if he was lying. He did think it was interesting for that reason, but he also knew that the question he’d wanted to ask wasn’t something he had any right asking.

“Oh.” Phil sounds a little disbelieving, but luckily, he doesn’t press. Instead, he just taps Dan’s thigh. “C’mere.”

Dan glances up, a little surprised to see Phil holding his hands out. Dan obliges almost immediately. He felt that he definitely deserved a hug for today, and especially since Phil would be gone for four days. He sits up and wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, burying his face in his chest. They were both tall, so it wasn’t very often that Dan got to feel so short and comforted in his grip, so he reveled in the feeling of Phil wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders, leaning down so his cheek is resting atop Dan’s head.

Breathing deeply, Dan decides he’s allowed one more selfish comment for today. “I’ll miss you.”

Phil’s arms tighten around him, and he closes his eyes when he feels his chest rumble with a laugh. “I’ll miss you too, bear.”

It’s hard to tell how long they sit there, but Dan eventually feels a lump building in his throat, and he knows it’ll only be a few minutes before he’s a mess if he doesn’t stop this now. He leans away, gesturing to Phil’s bag. “Get to it, mate, I’m ready to go to sleep.”

The joking tone seems to lighten the mood, and Phil laughs loudly, ruffling Dan’s hair as he steps away. “Yes, your majesty.”

Dan smiles at this, laying down on his side to watch Phil move around. It’s not long before he’s done, and after Dan checks through the bag and reminds him to get his toiletries in the morning, he’s satisfied with Phil’s packing and more than ready for sleep. He curls up under the duvet and waits for Phil to turn off the lights and join him. As soon as they’re both in the bed, Dan reaches out and pokes his best friend’s chest.

“Be safe tomorrow, okay? I know you’ll probably wake me up with your elephant feet in the morning, but I want to say it now anyway.” He brushes Phil’s hair back, lingering for a moment before pulling his hand back to his chest.

“I’m not even that loud,” Phil complains, his eyes rolling.

Dan shakes his head, smirking. “You are, but that isn’t point.” He shifts slightly closer, his expression morphing into a more serious one. Even if it was a short flight, he still worried. “I want you to text me when you get to the airport, if you don’t mind. And when you land, so I know you’re safe.”

Phil smiles, leaning across the few inches separating them to press a kiss to Dan’s forehead. Dan’s grateful for the darkness, probably hiding the blush he feels creeping onto his cheeks. “I will, Dan,” he says softly.

His chest suddenly feeling a little tight, Dan only nods, rolling over onto his stomach, not so subtly getting closer to Phil as he does it. He closes his eyes, although he knows that he probably won’t sleep until he’s replayed that sweet forehead kiss about three hundred times, committing it to memory. “Night, Phil,” he whispers into the pillow.

He feels the gentle pressure of Phil resting his hand on Dan’s lower back, stroking gently before his reply comes. “Goodnight, Dan.”

~~~

When Dan wakes up, it’s to an empty bed, and empty bedroom. He tries not to let that bother him, instead thinking positively about the fact that he got some extra sleep in. He grabs his phone to turn off his alarm, smiling when he realizes he’s got some messages. One is from his mum, and the others are from Phil.

Phil: I just left the flat and didn’t wake u up so suck it Howell

Phil: I’m at the airport now and I’m not the last crew person here thank god that would be awkward

Phil: I hope these aren’t going to wake you up, but since it’s been a bit and you still haven’t answered I’m gonna assume they haven’t

Phil: getting on the plane perfectly safe text you when I land x

That was the last message, and Dan maybe lingers too long on the little “x” at the end. Just maybe.

He showers and dresses for work quickly, counting the time around when Phil last texted him to figure out when he would land. If his math was right, it would probably be shortly after he got to the school. He messages him back just to show that he’d read his last messages, and to assure him that he hadn’t been woken up.

Dan: didn’t wake me don’t worry. am glad ur safe on the plane and didn’t die yet

He knows Phil well enough to know that he’ll find the humor in that, where some people might think he’s being insensitive and indifferent. In reality they both knew that Dan worried a lot about flying alone, whether it was him or, in this case, Phil. He just masked his concern with jokes, since that seemed to work much better for him.

The drive to the school goes by in a blur as he’s got his mind on other things, and he drops his things off in his office quickly before venturing out to the staff lounge to get some coffee. He was earlier than usual, probably due to the lack of distraction this morning. Phil not being there maybe had a positive side after all.

He’s just gotten back into his office when there’s a knock on his door. “Come in,” he calls, setting his mug down and moving to open the curtains. He glances to the door when he hears it open, pleasantly surprised to see Charlotte. “Charlotte! How are you doing?” The girl smiles timidly before pointing to one of the chairs. He nods, gesturing for her to sit as he does the same. “Everything okay?” he asks when she doesn’t speak.

She fidgets for a moment before she finally brings her gaze up to meet his. “They terminated our parents’ rights yesterday,” she says, so quietly that he almost thinks he hasn’t heard her properly.

After a moment of speechlessness, he finds his words somehow. “I’m so sorry that this happened to you, Charlotte,” he whispers, his voice full of hurt. His heart ached for this child, and he’s suddenly thrown back four months ago, when this child had sat in his office telling him exactly what was going on at home. She didn’t realize how much her decision to tell him affected not only her life, but his as well.

The girl only nods, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “I only wanted to tell you since… you know, you helped us out. Thank you, by the way.” She briefly meets his eyes before dropping her gaze back to her hands once more. “It sucks and everything, but we’re so much safer than we were. And that’s because of you.”

He can’t help it when he stands and offers her a hug. She stands quickly, and he gathers her up in his arms, holding her tightly. There were rules and regulations about student-teacher contact, but this child had been through so much, and she needed a hug. “I’m so sorry this happened, Charlotte, but I’m glad I could help in some way.” He hesitates for a moment before pulling away, holding her at arm’s length. “You know, because of you, my fiancé and I decided to start fostering.”

She looks surprised, and he’s not sure if it’s because he’d just mentioned having a fiancé or if it’s because of his admission to fostering because of what he’d seen with her situation. “Really?” She asks, her eyes lighting up.

Dan nods, moving to sit back in his chair. “Yes. I’ve wanted to do it for years, but after that day… Well, that really gave me the push I needed to do it.”

Charlotte sits back down carefully, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I think that’s great, Mr. Howell. And I think you’ll make a great parent.” She smiles before blushing, nodding to the filing cabinet in the corner. His gaze wanders over to it, and he notices what she’s looking at. “Is that your fiancé?” She asks timidly, referencing the picture of him and Phil on their trip to Japan.

He nods, his heart swelling with something he thinks is pride. “It is.” He smiles, looking at the picture for a long moment before turning back to her.

She smiles back, nodding. “You look good together,” she compliments before going to stand. “I should get to first period, but I just wanted to come by and let you know what happened and say thanks.” She grabs her backpack and is on her way out the door as she speaks.

“Thank you for telling me. Stop by anytime you need me, Charlotte.” He watches the door close, his smile slowly slipping into a small frown. Of course, he loved seeing the children he worked with, and he was glad she felt comfortable coming to speak to him, but seeing her had been a reminder, like a splash of cold water to the face.

Regardless of whatever he thought his feelings could be concerning Phil, this whole act had a purpose. A purpose that was bigger than both of them. It was entirely based on the idea that they do something to help these kids who didn’t have anyone else. There wasn’t any time or place for him to feel the sort of things he thought he’d been feeling lately, and this had just been a good reminder of why. He vows to keep himself in check from now on, but when his phone dings with a new text, he already feels his heart change pace.

He’s beginning to think that he’s totally fucked.

~~~

“Tilt your screen down, you spoon, I can barely see you.” Dan is laughing as he gives the instructions, but he honestly just wishes Phil would fix the damn laptop, so he could see his face better. They were Skyping, and while he felt codependency was written across his forehead, he really didn’t regret it; he missed Phil already, and this was just so nostalgic for them, as their friendship had started online all those years ago. There’d been many late-night skype calls back in those days, and he was honestly a little excited for the nostalgia of it.

Phil does as he’s instructed, tilting the screen until Dan can clearly see his face. “Better?” He asks brightly, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth.

Dan nods into his own little laptop camera, smiling. “Yes.” His eyes take in what he can see of Phil’s hotel room from this angle, and he raises an eyebrow. “I like your hotel room. The BBC is doing a nice job putting you guys up.”

Rolling his blue eyes, Phil shifts to lie down on his side, adjusting the laptop as he goes. “Thanks. I booked the rooms for this trip.” He rolls his eyes again, showing his distaste for the task. “This one isn’t terrible, but the room service isn’t great.” He frowns at this, and Dan watches him glance up at something Dan can’t see. His heart squeezes a little at how tired Phil looks all of a sudden.

“Well, why aren’t you just out to dinner with everyone else? I’m sure no one else is hanging out in their room alone.” He means this to be teasing and light, but he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses Phil’s face as he frowns.

“Because I wanted to talk to you,” he says almost immediately, the honesty in his voice sends Dan spiraling into his own mind; what if, what if, what if.

He has paused for too long. Phil’s frown reappears, deeper-creased. Say something, Dan. He has to say something. “You could’ve texted or something. You know, if you’d wanted to go out.” Guilt courses through him at the idea that he’s holding Phil back, and he hates that feeling so much.

Phil shakes his head, moving his laptop away from him a bit. “I wanted to see you, too,” he says softly.

Every feeling Dan has ever had is shoved under a magnifying glass, a hundred, no a thousand times bigger and warmer than before. But he’s playing it cool. “Yeah?” What if, what if, what if, WHAT IF- “I wanted to see you too.”

There’s a silence when they just look at each other for a moment, and Dan feels so comfortable that he’s actually surprised. He would’ve thought that surely after all these years it would feel weird skyping, after so many years practically attached to the hip, but it actually didn’t feel much different than it used to. He’s annoyingly reminded of the similarities as his heart swells when Phil begins talking about his day. Just like old times.

They talk for less than an hour, but Phil’s eyes keep drifting to a certain point and he keeps snapping his head back to the camera, and even if Dan doesn’t have to work in the morning, Phil does. “Okay, go to sleep, granddad. You clearly can’t stay up past your bedtime,” Dan jokes, wishing more than anything that he was there with him. He shakes his head to clear that thought immediately.

Phil yawns then, only adding to Dan’s point. “I swear I wanted to stay awake longer,” he smiles blearily. “But I’m not going to lie, I’m exhausted.”

Dan nods, trying not to laugh at him. “I know, I can tell. It’s fine. Just text me tomorrow and let me know you’re okay. If you’re not exhausted when you get back to the hotel I’ll call, okay?”

The older man smiles warmly at this, propping his head up on his arm as he gazes into the camera, and Dan feels that gaze is looking right into his soul. “I can’t wait.” He pauses for a second before shifting, glancing away before his eyes flicker back. “I wish I was home,” he admits carefully.

Dan feels his heart jump into his throat, and he nods sharply. “Me too,” he breathes, hoping to God that he doesn’t do something ridiculous like cry. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Phil. Get some sleep.”

“Okay. Night, Dan.” Phil’s eyes are already closed, but Dan is positive he’s not actually asleep yet.

“Night,” he breathes. He ends the call, wishing more than anything in the world that he didn’t feel the cold in his chest that he currently felt.

~~~

The weekend goes by in a blur of cleaning, a trip to the grocery store, and a handful of calls and texts with Phil. Dan was surprisingly productive with all his free alone time, and the flat honestly looked great when he was finished. He also took the liberty of buying some simple sheets for the twin bed in the spare bedroom, spending probably an hour making the bed and tidying up the relatively empty room. Ever since Hazel had told them the date for their panel meeting that would determine their approval for fostering, he was giddy and nervous. Cleaning the spare room just helped calm his nerves slightly, but he wasn’t positive how much it was helping.

Monday is slow at work, but he’s counting down the hours before he gets home. Phil’s flight wasn’t landing until nearly midnight, so he’d likely be asleep before he got in, but he was more than relieved that he was finally going to be home. Not that he’d been that pathetically alone; he just liked having company and it was strange to go from having his best friend around all the time to only having a few texts or a call.

When he gets home, Dan tries to stay awake and wait for Phil to come home, but he’s exhausted, so he’s asleep before ten. It’s a restless sleep, though, as if even in sleep his body knows he’s anticipating something and can’t properly rest. So, he’s not really surprised that he wakes up easily enough when he feels the mattress dip with the weight of another person.

He rolls over, his eyes bleary as he opens them, blinking a few times to see properly. Phil is there, putting his glasses on the nightstand with his engagement band and plugging his phone up. He probably doesn’t even realize Dan’s awake, but when he turns back around to settle into bed, his eyes immediately meet the brunet’s.

“Hi,” he breathes, his blue eyes dull with exhaustion, even as his lips curl up into a smile.

Dan doesn’t even think before scooting closer, pressing his face to Phil’s chest and wrapping an arm around him. “Hi,” he whispers back, snuggling into his side. He smiles as he feels Phil return his embrace, one of his hands stroking down Dan’s back while the other tangles in his hair.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Phil says softly. Dan tries to ignore the way he feels Phil’s lips press into his hair.

He shakes his head a little. “I’m not.” Something about saying it into the darkness seems a little less scary, a little less real. As if the darkness masks any meaning he may have behind the words.

“Me too,” Phil murmurs, shifting so that he’s lying on his back rather than his side, allowing Dan to properly rest his head on Phil’s chest. The hand in Dan’s hair doesn’t stop petting gently, and with the silence that falls over the room, it’s all too easy for Dan to fall asleep, content in Phil’s arms.

~~~

The next few weeks after Phil’s trip passes in a sort of blur, with Dan’s twenty-eighth birthday passing by quietly due to all the focus being on the foster situation. Phil offers to cook and invite some friends over, but ultimately Dan decides he just wants a quiet night in. It’s just a birthday, and he’ll have another in a year, and they can do something more exciting then.

Just a couple weeks after his birthday, they find themselves back at Hazel’s office for the panel meeting. To say that Dan was a nervous wreck would be an absolute understatement. He’s shaking so much that Phil insists on ordering them a cab rather than trying to drive. The whole ride there, he’s got the older man’s hand clutched in his in a death grip.

“Dan, please relax,” Phil says gently, his purple thumb stroking the back of Dan’s hand gently. “Everything’s going to be fine, just take a deep breath. Everything is fine.”

Dan tries to do this, he really does, but he finds it ridiculously hard to relax. “I need a distraction. God, I can’t do this,” he bursts, a wave of panic washing over him. His palms are sweating and he could swear his heart is breaking his ribs. This was the most important part of the fostering process, and if they couldn’t get approved, then this was all for nothing. Living together, getting so close, the whole fake relationship was a waste of time, and Dan’s sanity.

“Dan. Stop. Look at me.” Phil’s voice is firm, and Dan looks to him with wide eyes, frantic. Phil brings his hand up to cup the back of Dan’s head, his fingers brushing through the curls there gently. Dan swallows hard, the closeness and intensity of Phil’s gaze making him nervous in a new way. “It’s okay. Everything that’s happening right now, it’s all okay. We’re going to be at Hazel’s office and she’s going to take us to a room where there are people who are going to help us, okay? They’re not the enemy, you need to remember that. They’re doing their job to make sure that the best people are the people who get to foster, alright?” His words are quick and quiet, and Dan can only nod.

“What if we aren’t those people?” He breathes, finally daring to let his fear out in the open.

Before he even has time to process it, Phil’s pulling him closer, and Dan’s heart rate spikes. He only pulls Dan against him, allowing the younger man to rest his head on his shoulder, his face pressed against Phil’s long neck.

“You can’t think that, bear. You heard Hazel. She thinks we’re fantastic candidates. Do you honestly think she’d let us get our hopes up if she thought that we wouldn’t get approved?” Dan shakes his head slowly, and Phil presses a chaste kiss to his hair. “Exactly. She wouldn’t do that. So, this is all going to be fine. Just take a deep breath.”

For the rest of the ride, Dan does exactly that. He breathes slowly, feeling his nerves slowly calm down as Phil continues running a hand through his hair, soothing him with the motions. Dan even feels a bit silly when he feels a tear creep down his cheek, and he brushes it aside with a shaky laugh. When they pull up to the building, Phil pays the driver and tugs Dan’s hand to get him out of the car. They walk in with their hands intertwined, and the contact is incredibly grounding for Dan.

Hazel meets them at the front desk, a bright smile on her face. “Wonderful, you’re here! Shall we go then?”

Phil gazes at Dan, squeezing his hand reassuringly before nodding to Hazel. “We’re ready.”

And as they follow Hazel back to a room where the fate of their foster carer status will be decided, Dan isn’t sure that he’s ever been ready for this at all.

---

Five days.

It takes five painstakingly long days after the panel meeting for Dan to get the call.

Five days of anxiously chewing his lips to the point of bleeding, prompting Phil to have an intervention. He buys Dan several packs of gum and keeps an eye on him, ensuring that he’s chewing on that instead of destroying the skin on his lips even more.

Five days of pacing the flat every evening after work, worries flooding his mind, often late into the night. The third night of this, Phil gets up, finally tired of the noise, and drags Dan back to bed, spooning him the minute they’re back under the duvet. Dan’s certain that Phil’s tight grip on him is only to ensure he won’t get up and start pacing again, but he blushes furiously as Phil drifts off to sleep, his grip loosening around Dan’s waist.

When his phone finally rings on Monday evening, he’s almost frozen by the sound, staring at his phone as if it’s going to catch flames.

“Are you going to answer it?” Phil asks gently from his spot beside Dan. They were sitting on the couch, trying to watch an anime, although Dan had been lost since they started watching, his thoughts too messy to focus on the show.

He shakes his head emphatically, his eyes pleading when he looks to Phil. The older man takes the initiative immediately, sliding his thumb across the screen before putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

A woman’s voice answers, and she doesn’t sound like she’s preparing to deliver bad news, which Dan takes as a good sign. “Is this Mr. Howell or Mr. Lester?” She asks.

“Yes, this is Mr. Lester,” Phil responds, glancing over at Dan. He frowns, lifting his hand up and gripping Dan’s chin softly, his thumb brushing over his lips. Dan hadn’t realized it when he drew his bottom lip into his mouth, but now that Phil was pressing the pad of his thumb against them, he quickly released it from his teeth, smiling sheepishly. Phil drops his hand, leaving it resting on Dan’s knee.

“Great! This is Maria, from Bridging the Gap Fostering. I’m calling about the panel decision.” Her words bring a new wave of nerves to Dan, and he doesn’t even think before he reaches for Phil’s hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing hard.

Phil mirrors the gesture, staring at Dan as he responds. “Right. What’s the decision?”

Dan feels like he’s in one of those terrible dramatic movies where there’s the long, dramatic pause before news is delivered, and his stomach is twisting. He has no clue why this lady seems to take so long to respond, but maybe he’s only being dramatic because he’s so nervous for the answer. Either way, he waits, holding his breath, for her response.

“Well, the board was very impressed with your application,” she begins. Phil squeezes his hand harder then, a smile tugging at his lips. “And I’m very pleased to tell you that you’ve been approved. There will be a foster carer agreement sent to the address you’ve given us, and after that…” She continues speaking, but Dan isn’t listening anymore.

The words “you’ve been approved” are bouncing around in his head, and he can barely contain his relief and excitement. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to immediately pounce on Phil for a hug, but the older man is actually listening to her words, which is probably good, since it’s probably very important.

“Yes. Alright. We will. Thank you so much. Goodbye.” Phil’s got a grin on his face as he hangs up and places the phone on the coffee table.

They exchange a look, and before Dan can even think better of it, he’s scrambling over to Phil, throwing his arms around him. “We got approved!” He shouts, likely blowing Phil’s ears off due to their proximity.

“We got approved,” Phil cackles, tightening his arms around Dan.

“Oh my god.” Dan sits back after a second, his cheeks a little warm when Phil smiles fondly at him. “I… I can’t believe we got approved. We got approved. We actually got approved.”

“I know, Dan, I was here!” Phil laughs, shoving Dan’s knee gently.

They’re both just sat there smiling like idiots for a moment before Dan shakes his head, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. He was so relieved it was as if he was coming down from some adrenaline high. “We’re going to do it, Phil. We’re actually going to get to be foster parents.”

He feels Phil bump his shoulder and turns to see Phil’s grin, his tongue between his teeth in that endearing way that he has. “We certainly are. Domino’s to celebrate?” He’s got his laptop already open, and Dan can’t help the grin that works its way onto his face. He was so happy, so relieved, that they were actually going to do this.

“Domino’s!” he cheers, leaning his head on Phil’s shoulder as he watches him order.

And for the first time in a long time, everything feels blissfully uncomplicated.

#phan #phanfiction #foster parent au #foster parent #bbc producer!phil #student counselor!dan #parent!phan #parent!au #friends to lovers #best friends #bed sharing #fake relationship #i swear the children are going to show up eventually i promise im not parent!phan baiting on purpose #fluff #angst

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danfanciesphil · 5 years ago

Text

too high (can’t come down) by @danfanciesphil

Suspending himself 7,000 feet above the rest of the world seems likely to be a sure-fire way for Dan to escape normality, and isolate himself for the foreseeable future. The Secret of the Alps, a small hotel tucked into the side of the Swiss mountains is too niche for most avid adventurers to have heard of, making it the perfect place for Dan to work as he sorts through his problems. Unfortunately, privacy is a coveted thing, and as Dan soon finds out, the hotel harbours one guest who values it more than most.

Rating: Explicit Tags: Enemies to lovers, snow, mountains, skiing, hostility, slow burn, secrecy, longing, repression, nobility, classism, cheating, eventual sex

Ao3 Link

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

**dedicated to @lilchupacabragirl whom it is my mission to smother in love and affection**

It’s 4 o’clock, and Dan is so tired he can barely think straight; he has no idea how he’s going to get through the rest of his shift. He wishes he could blame Phil for keeping him up so late, but Dan thinks he might have literally kicked Phil in the balls if he’d tried to go to sleep at a reasonable hour after making Dan wait all day for an insinuated ravishing.

Everyone is still in the mezzanine lounge, though the press conference ended abruptly after Nikolai’s little tumble. Phil and Nikolai are now sat at separate but adjacent tables, both surrounded by their own herd of grey-suited people, all of whom are muttering things at the men with severe expressions on their faces. On the tables are a smattering of official-looking papers, and, on Nikolai’s table, a jewellery box that Dan assumes contains that massive fucking diamond ring.

Martyn is beside Dan, at the edge of the room leant against the wood-panelled wall, observing. His arms are wrapped around his middle as he watches the grey-suits list their terms and stipulations, jabbing at the papers to tell Phil and Nikolai where to sign. Another two minutes go by and Martyn shifts from foot to foot, sighing impatiently. Dan doesn’t blame him; this has been going on for hours. Apparently divorce is not a simple procedure.

As Dan is about to feign needing to pee just for something to do, he notices someone winding their way through the crowd towards them. It’s Cornelia, in a big patterned jumper and ugly plaid school skirt, somehow looking like she both rolled through a charity shop and then ran down a fashion show runway. Atop her nest of vibrant red hair are two John Lennon-style coloured spectacles in a light yellow.

At the sight of her, Martyn freezes, pushing off the wall to stand straighter. “So,” Cornelia says in a low voice, eyeing Martyn with a smug smile. “You’ve come crawling back.”

Martyn’s looking rather flustered, if Dan’s not mistaken. “Corndog,” Martyn manages to spit out. She scowls at him, obviously disliking the nickname. “Still changing nappies for the Royal Toddler, I see.”

“Least I have the balls to stick it out,” Cornelia fires back.

Dan’s starting to feel uneasy; there’s something rather worryingly familiar about this heated exchange.

Martyn takes a step towards her, brow creased. “You used to say you wanted to leave with me. I’m not sure chickening out of your word counts as ‘ballsy’.”

At the sight of Cornelia’s incensed responding expression, Dan jumps in, sensing something - though he’s not sure what - is about to kick off.

“Hi, Cornelia,” he says quickly.

She turns to Dan, deflating, seeming to notice him for the first time. “Oh. Hi, Dan. How’ve you been?”

“Um, y-yeah, fine thanks,” Dan replies, eyes flitting to Martyn, who is now turning his face away and tutting, rather like a bratty kid.

“I see you’ve met my arch nemesis,” she says, but if Dan’s not mistaken, there’s a smile hidden beneath her words.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Corndog,” Martyn scoffs, though now his mouth is twitching in a smile as well. “Run along, then. Don’t you have a posh twat to fawn over?”

Cornelia grins, then takes a step into Martyn’s personal bubble. It’s such an abrupt, intimate move that Dan almost looks away, sure he’s about to witness something inappropriate.

“Missed you too, Martian,” she murmurs, sending a very deliberate look towards his mouth; she’s a full foot shorter than Martyn, but something about her bold, confident stance as she looks up into his face, unblinking, exudes intimidation.

She steps away, nodding quickly at Dan before heading back towards Nikolai, phone already pressed to her ear. Dan turns to Martyn, eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

“Err…”

“Look, Dan, let’s make a deal,” Martyn says gruffly, though his cheeks are a deep pink. “You keep shtum about that... ill-advised quasi-affair of the past...” He clears his throat, eyes fixed on Cornelia. “...and I won’t bring up your little tryst with my married brother. Cool?”

Dan’s head whips towards him so fast he thinks he might sprain a neck muscle. “Excuse me?”

Gluey and reluctant, Martyn’s gaze slides to him. “I know, Dan.”

Dan’s eyes widen, and he stumbles in his haste to back up from the conversation. “What?! Don’t be- I’m not-” Martyn says nothing, simply maintains his weary stare. Dan's been through enough Lester-arguments to know when to admit defeat. “How did you know?”

Martyn snorts, as if the question is absurd. “I can only assume the thin oxygen is making everyone else thick, because to me it’s glaringly obvious. You’re just his type, for one - dimples, curls, adorable, funny without meaning to be - not to mention he hasn’t shut up about you since I got within earshot. ‘Let’s go where Dan can’t hear’, ‘that reminds me of something Dan said’, ‘can we try and make sure Nikolai doesn’t talk to Dan’, blah blah blah, Dan, Dan, Dan.”

The information stuffs itself through Dan’s ear canal in a great flurry, meaning it takes a while to wriggle into Dan’s brain. As Martyn’s snippets of Phil’s psyche pile up, they begin pressing on the backs of Dan’s eyes, creating a throbbing ache. It doesn’t make sense. Why would Phil be prattling on about Dan right now? He’s got so much else to deal with; surely thoughts of Dan are on the back burner.

“So he… told you about us?” Dan asks, feeling about ten centimetres tall.

“Not exactly.” Martyn looks to where Phil is currently signing something with what looks like deliberate slowness, presumably to piss the grey-suits off. “But he said he’s having feelings for someone who isn’t Nik, and no offence Dan, but there’s not a lot of options for him up here apart from the nervous, skinny kid that looks at him like he’s Jesus risen.”

Dan opens his mouth to argue, but realises he has no points to make. He shuts it again with a snap, and turns back to stare at Phil. “You and Cornelia… that didn’t work out, I’m assuming.”

Martyn stiffens just a bit, obviously not expecting the question. He doesn’t reply for a while, and Dan wonders if he might have crossed a line. “People like her… they tend to see people like me through dollar-green tinted spectacles.”

“I’m sure that’s a clever metaphor and all, but could you spell it out for me? Like I said, I’m a uni drop-out,” Dan replies, rubbing his temples to try and ease the headache.

“You need to stop belittling yourself,” Martyn says, sternly. “Uni doesn’t make intelligence, it’s just a place people go to develop it.”

Dan says nothing, simply sighing and folding his arms like he’s not going to go and ruminate on that statement for several hours.

“Corn hates her job, but she gets a shitload for it,” Martyn says eventually. “She acts like she wants to give it up, to stick her finger up at Nikolai and do something more worthwhile, but it’s all in her head. She likes the lifestyle too much. She won’t give it up for someone like me.”

Something insistent is tugging hard at the veins leading from Dan’s heart; he pictures a growling puppy, intent on a new chew toy. His hand moves to rub at the spot on his chest, beneath which he can feel his heart beating.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Dan says stubbornly, “maybe if you’d stuck around for long enough to let her decide, she would’ve chosen you.”

Dan can feel Martyn’s sympathetic stare boring into him. “Yeah. Maybe.”

To steer away from this horrendous conversation, Dan clears his throat, straightening up and nodding towards Phil and Nikolai. “Looks like it might be coming to an end.”

“Thank the Lord. Poor Phil, he’s so done.”

“He’s had to do too much of this, I’d imagine,” Dan says, and Martyn nods emphatically.

“You’ve no idea. Still, once he gets out of this place he’ll be able to get some normalcy back.”

At first, the sentence only skims over Dan’s skin, barely grazing him. He’s too focused on Phil’s deep frown line, worried about how all this will age him before his time. And then he replays Martyn’s breezy statement, letting it sink into his flesh.

“Gets out of this place?” Dan repeats, slowly.

Martyn glances across at him. “Yeah. Y’know, once the divorce is finalised.” Dan doesn’t bother to stop the confusion from furrowing his brow. He’s already established several times that he’s not the brightest bulb, once more won’t hurt. “You didn’t think he was gonna stay in this hotel once he finally shakes Nikolai, did you? He won’t be able to afford that massive suite anymore for one thing. Plus, no offence but there’s not a whole lot on offer up here for an unmarried, uneducated twenty-six-year-old, y’know?”

Of course, Dan thinks, the anxiety-worms crawling up his arms, Phil’s going to leave.

He has no right to be surprised; it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Phil hates it up here, he’s never been shy about expressing that. Dan has sat and listened to him whine about his circumstances multiple times, heard him complain that Dan threw away his freedom and that he’d do anything to have what Dan gave up. Dan should have seen this coming a mile off. It’s as obvious as a huge snowball would be, were he to look out of the window and see one barrelling towards him. But he didn’t see it coming. And now, stupidly, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“Excuse me,” Dan mutters to Martyn, and then scurries off before any dumb tears can leak out.

He’s vaguely aware that several people are watching him go, but he ignores them all, focused on his destination, back to the Fitzgeralds room which he’s left uncleaned, where he can lock himself away for a while and cry in private, as he’s so used to doing in this place.

When Dan opens the door to the Fitzgeralds room, their teenage daughter is sitting on her bed.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Dan says, flustered, “I thought you and your parents were still downstairs, I’ll leave you-”

He stops abruptly, noticing the sheer panic on her face. She’s frozen, her laptop open in front of her, and beside that, a Louis Vuitton bag that Dan has definitely seen before, and definitely not in her hands. A voice is coming from her laptop speaker, slightly tinny and distorted, but familiar nonetheless. As the silence settles between them, Dan is able to pick out words. Bizarrely, the voice sounds just like his mother.

“...is this as bright of a decision as dropping out of university, or breaking up with your lovely girlfriend, or running away to scrub toilets up a mountain?! What on earth are you thinking, you daft-”

“I love him!”

An invisible punch lands itself squarely in the centre of Dan’s chest, winding him. He’d know his own annoying voice anywhere.

“How did you…what is this?”

The sound of Dan’s actual voice seems to jolt her into animation. She scrambles for the laptop, clumsy in her attempt to shut off the recording.

“I- I mean, I care about him. I don’t- I don’t know why I said- forget that. But I do care.”

As he listens to his own pathetic attempt to backtrack over his blurted love confession, Dan’s horrified gaze lands back on the Louis Vuitton bag, finally recognising it.

“That’s Phil’s,” he whispers, bewildered.

The Fitzgerald girl is jabbing at various keys, but the recording continues playing; Dan slumps against the doorframe.

“His marriage is toxic, Mum. If you knew the truth, if the rest of the world knew - if Vanessa and Derren knew what Nikolai was like-”

As a last resort, she slams the lid of her laptop closed, bright red in the face, eyes fixed on Dan in alarm. “Listen,” she garbles, “there’s a journalism Code of Conduct, and I read it cover to cover, and as long as I’m not harming anyone I’m allowed to report on things I see-”

“You,” Dan says, weakly. “You’re the leak.”

“I’m undercover,” she corrects, sitting up straight and tucking her blue hair behind her ears. Her cheeks are stained pink, but she juts her chin out nonetheless in an attempt at assertion. “I’m a reporter in training. I run a blog about Niky.”

“Niky?” Dan repeats, already revolted.

“It’s called The Renegade Royal,” she says proudly. “I came up with that. It’s clever, isn’t it?”

In lieu of answering that absurd question, Dan gathers himself together, and stalks over to the bed. She flinches; Dan rolls his eyes, hands coming up in front of him to show he’s about as scary as a snowflake. He grabs the Louis Vuitton bag by the handles and with a quick glance inside - bundled up ski-skins, sunglasses, a small bottle of sunscreen, some sugar packets - he confirms that yes, this is Phil Novokoric’s bag.

“For God’s- reporters don’t steal people’s personal belongings,” Dan scolds, zipping the bag shut. “That’s super illegal.”

She blanches at the word ‘illegal’, seeming to deflate slightly, but she puffs herself back up pretty quick. “Uh, he deserves it. He’s breaking his marriage vows! With you, I might add.”

She folds her arms across her chest, her wrinkled nose and sneer adequately expressing her feelings over Phil’s decision to pass up Nikolai for someone like Dan, even on a circumstantial basis.

“So you steal his stuff?” Dan asks, feeling his hackles rise. “Bug the room and record me having a private call with my mum?”

Again, the girl flinches, guilt flashing across her features. “W-well, I didn’t know you’d call her, did I? I was just trying to catch you and him in the act somewhere. There’s other recording devices, obviously, in other places-”

“What?!”

She fidgets. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“For Christ’s sake!” Dan’s legs buckle, and he sits heavily on the edge of the bed, making her scuttle backwards in alarm. Dan puts his head in his hands. “Could this get any more complicated?”

She makes a face. “Uh, you’re not, like, crying are you?”

Dan lifts his head, sighing heavily, then fixes the girl with a steely gaze. “Did your parents put you up to this?”

She snorts. “God, no. Have you met my parents? They’re halfwits. They keep saying they’re gonna ‘sell their story’ to the paper, but they don’t have a clue how, or even have anything worth selling.”

“Right,” Dan says, ignoring all her horrible words, about her own parents no less, “they’re not behind this, which makes you the sole crook. I suggest, if you don’t want me telling your mum and dad, the manager of the hotel, Phil, Nikolai, a bunch of real journalists, and some scary-looking lawyers that you’re a sneaky little spy, creeping around recording everyone in their private rooms, that you tell me your name, and show me this awful blog of yours.”

She stares at him dumbly, her defiance melting away. Her arms slacken, and she loses the tension in her body, mind obviously reeling. “M-my parents? And- and Niky?”

“Oh, and the police of course,” Dan tacks on for emphasis, patting the Louis Vuitton bag in his lap. “They’ll want to know where this designer bag Phil’s been looking for went.”

She eyes the bag like it’s transformed into a gaggle of writhing snakes. “Hannah!” she cries, suddenly panicked, then scrambles for her laptop. “My name’s Hannah Fitzgerald, I’m sixteen, I’m from Durham, England. Please don’t report me- look, here’s my blog, I haven’t even shared anything that bad yet, see?”

Dan reaches for the laptop, but she resists him actually taking it out of her hands; for a few seconds, they have a small, silent tug of war, and then Dan relents, because what on Earth is he doing trying to wrestle a computer off a sixteen-year-old? Instead, he peers at the screen while she holds it, and under the watch of her beady, panicked eye, scrolls down her blog with the trackpad.

Mostly, it’s just photos of Nikolai. A few glamour shots, of his shirtless form in black and white, holding some kind of big feathered fan. A few paparazzi photos, of Nikolai in Gucci sunglasses and Supreme hoodies, sipping Starbucks as he walks through the streets of New York or Paris or Mumbai.

The two most recent posts consist of long, rambly chunks of text where Hannah has obviously realised her lucky situation, being in the same hotel as Phil Novokoric, and gone to scream about it in caps lock on Tumblr. Dan doesn’t miss that the post has over twenty-thousand notes.

One of the posts, from just yesterday, is entitled ‘Update One: More Coming Soon!’. Dan clicks this one, steeling himself for the worst. It reads:

‘SO I’ve been up in the Alps with you-know-who >:( for a whole two days now - eeeek! I have seen and heard a LOT, and am planning on sharing with you all once I get everything together. ATM I’m working on getting some ~juicier~ evidence, but I can confirm that Philip ‘grumpface’ Lester (I famously refuse to acknowledge him as a true Novokoric, see my FAQ) is **CHEATING!!!!** on Nikolai!!!! I have seen it with my own two eyes. I’ve already been in touch with The Sun, The Star, The Daily Mirror, and The Daily Mail, as well as Perez Hilton, The T (the drama YouTube channel) and a few other big Nikolai blogs.’

Dan’s eyes flutter closed, and he forces himself to breathe deeply, so he won’t yell at this literal child for being such an ignorant demon. When he reopens them, she’s watching him nervously, but makes no move to take the laptop away.

‘All the mags and papers say they need ‘evidence’ (photos, audio clips, vids, etc) so I’ve been working on collecting some. Stay tuned for my next update, I have sooooo much to show and tell you all. I always said Phil was wrong for Niky (as most of you know haha) and I guess I was right!! Dw guys I’m not gonna let him mess our boy about <3 For now… here’s some sneaky preview pics ;) Follow me on Tumblr, Twitter and Insta for the next update x

Hannah F <3’

When he gets to the end, Dan feels nauseous. He scrolls down, and there are three images. One is from yesterday morning, right after Phil had phoned Nikolai and told him it was completely over. In the photo, Phil is sat at the table in the mezzanine lounge, and Dan is leaning into his space, hands planted on the table beside Phil’s mug of coffee. Phil is smiling serenely at him, but Dan’s face is obscured by the angle. He tries to remember what he was saying in the moment. Something like ‘you dick-brain’, probably.

The next photo is of Phil tucking a tiny green umbrella behind Dan’s ear. Phil’s forearm, reaching to place the umbrella, is blocking Dan’s face again.

The final photo is taken from above, over the lip of the mezzanine, and Dan remembers it vividly. Dan is serving guests at the front desk, and Phil is beside him, hand placed on his arm, standing way too close. Dan’s staring into those ridiculously blue eyes, and even though the high angle means his expression is out of view, Dan can feel, somehow, the mesmerism radiating from his body language alone. How embarrassing.

“You can’t even see your face in those pics,” Hannah points out, like that makes it okay.

Dan huffs a strained sigh, straightening up. “I assume that’s because you were planning some huge reveal of my identity in your next post?”

Hannah shifts uncomfortably. “My followers have a right to-” Dan just glares at her, hard, and she shuts up. “I’ll delete them all. I’ll tell them I was lying. Please don’t report me, I can’t be arrested for this-”

“Delete it all now,” Dan says, not fucking about anymore. “In front of me. The recordings too.”

Hannah nods quickly, gulping, and turns the laptop to face her. Dan shuffles up the bed to sit beside her, intending to make sure she bleaches her hard drive clean of every last scrap.

Dan closes the door of Mona’s office behind him, eyes prickling. His conversation with Mona had gone even worse than he’d expected it to. It was the only option, he tells himself for the hundredth time. The stress of this whole situation is entirely too much; the anxiety worms have begun gnawing holes through his skin, which was never very thick to begin with. Hannah was a manageable example of what Dan can foresee being a worsening problem if he continues down the current path.

For now, he pushes his conversation with Mona to the back of his mind, intending to pull it out again later, in bed, when he has time to pick it apart. Dan picks up the Louis Vuitton bag he’d hidden just out of sight behind a decorative fake plant in the lobby, and heads for the stairs. On his way down here from the Fitzgeralds room, he’d managed to sneak through the crowd of people still gathered in the lobby without being seen; as he attempts to do the same now on his way back through, he notes that neither Phil nor Nikolai are amongst the gaggle of people still grouped around tables and slumped in beanbags.

It probably means nothing, Dan tells himself sternly, and keeps his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone on his way to the stairs. He jogs up to the top floor, surprised at his ability to do this with minimal exertion - he must be getting used to the journey - and goes straight to Phil’s door. Not bothering to knock, Dan lets himself in, determined to have this out as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

“I have your bag,” Dan announces, marching straight into the room. He turns to face the figure lounging on the bed, mouth open to address Phil. Abruptly, he snaps it shut again when he takes in the sight of Nikolai Novokoric smirking back at him, hands folded in his lap. “Oh,” Dan says, blood pooling in his cheeks. “S-sorry, Sir. I just… I’m returning Mister Nov-” Nope. “Your hus-” Nope. “Um, Phil’s bag.”

Dan holds it up for Nikolai to see. ‘Nothing untoward going on here’, Dan imagines puppeting the bag to say. Resisting this strange urge, Dan instead places the bag gently down on a chair, and turns, heart thumping, to leave.

“Say, Dan, is it?” Nikolai asks breezily.

Shit. Dan turns, smile straining. “That’s right. Did you need something?”

Nikolai’s cool gaze washes over him, head to toe. “How about a chat?”

He scoots to the edge of the bed, then pats the space beside him. Dan really and truly does not want to go and seat himself beside this despicable man for ‘a chat’, especially not on the bed he’d rolled around on for hours with Phil last night, but he can’t think of a viable excuse not to. So, he drags himself over and gingerly perches on the edge, leaving as much space between them as he can get away with.

For an excruciatingly long moment, Nikolai says nothing. He simply aims a calm, diamond-hard half-smile at Dan, his grey eyes tracking every inch of his face for some unknowable trait.

“So,” he says at last. “You’re fucking my husband.” Dan’s mouth drops open, instantly aflame, and Nikolai laughs. “Gosh, would you look at that blush. You are cute, aren’t you? I can see how easy it would be to snap you up.”

“I- I don’t know what you’ve heard, but-”

“Oh, please,” Nikolai interrupts, snorting. “Spare me the terrible attempt at denial. Someone gave Philip an impressively deep love bite - it wasn’t me, and I can say with relative surety that it wasn’t that large, clumsy Swiss mountain goat herd, or the Northern chap with the shrill wife and bacon bits in his beard. That leaves just one other member of the male-identifying species that could have done it - Philip is such a stickler about being exclusively into boys, it really is so tiresome.”

Dan is too terrified to be offended by Nikolai’s countless forays into non-PC territory. He watches, eyes wide and panicked, as Nikolai crosses his legs in a sigh, then leans back on his hands, still keeping Dan caught in the crosshairs of his steely gaze.

“Oh, for goodness sake, there’s no need to look so petrified,” Nikolai says with an accompanying eye roll. “I can’t publicly accuse Philip of adultery with anyone without answering to a hundred far more substantial accusations of cheating myself. I suppose I’m just surprised he had the balls.”

Dan swallows, glancing around the room in case he’s missed Phil being in here somewhere, possibly tied up and unable to voice his muffled screams.

“W-we didn’t mean for it to happen,” Dan finds himself saying, mostly in an attempt to stall until he can think of a plan. Or an escape route. “We just sort of... couldn’t stay away from each other.”

Nikolai snorts with laughter again. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what he told you.”

Confused, Dan flips this statement over in his mind several times, but finds he still cannot comprehend it. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, Dan,” Nikolai says in a very punchable, patronising way; he places a gentle hand on Dan’s shoulder, one that Dan feels immediately burning through his shirt material. Dan shifts, trying to express his discomfort, but Nikolai makes no move to remove it. “You poor cherub. You don’t truly believe that Philip is interested in you, do you?”

Dan says nothing, but inside, his muscles contract, squeezing his organs into a big, pulsating jumble. Nikolai’s expression turns to pity, and Dan feels suddenly as if he needs to sprint far away, down the mountain, and never return.

“All of this,” Nikolai says, gesturing to Dan’s entire being, “is his way of getting back at me, sweetheart.” The vile endearment sticks to Dan like a leech attaching itself to his skin. “It’s horribly cruel, to both of us, really. Philip’s got such a lot of buried anger in him.”

Nikolai sighs, head shaking from side to side. He’s changed since earlier, now wearing a high-necked, charcoal fleece, one that looks as though it’s been picked out of a new designer range of ‘winter-wear’. It gives him a severe, statuesque look, elongating his neck, sharpening his angles.

“I’m only telling you this to spare your feelings, you understand,” Nikolai continues gravely, gazing right into Dan’s eyes, “for months the man’s been desperate to get ‘revenge’ on me, for whatever crimes he’s decided I committed during our marriage. Personally, I feel I was awfully good to him, considering the numerous diva tantrums I put up with, but even so. It appears he felt the need to hurt me, and he had no qualms about using an innocent member of staff to do it.”

It’s not true, Dan’s brain is screaming at him, but he can’t quite let that placate him. It’s a seductive thought, to gather all the hatred he feels for Nikolai, all of the awful things he knows Nikolai has done, and use them as evidence to back up the idea that Nikolai is simply lying. But once again, doubt creeps in; Dan just doesn’t know Phil well enough to be sure. Nikolai has been married to the man. For years. Dan’s known him a fraction of that time, and a great deal of it was spent arguing with him.

Nikolai’s hand squeezes Dan’s shoulder. “I can see this has all rather upset you,” he says, voice softer now, brushing Dan’s eardrums like wisps of cotton. His hand slides, firm and gelatinous, down Dan’s arm, coming to rest at his elbow. Dan looks down at it, bemused. “It’s simply dreadful, how Philip’s strung you along.” Nikolai’s thumb moves in slow circles over the spot just inside of Dan’s elbow. “I’d never have the heart to deface something so...” he’s leaning closer now, too close - oddly close. Dan cannot move, he feels as though he’s gone into shock, stunned into rigidity by the absurdity of the situation. “...pure,” Nikolai whispers, then presses his lips, gently, to Dan’s cheek. “So pretty,” he says, pressing a second kiss slightly lower. “So enticing.”

Bile crawls up the inside of Dan’s throat, stinging and acidic; he’s about to shove Nikolai, hard, not caring that it might count as treason or whatever, when he senses another presence in the room. Over the pounding of blood in his repulsed ears, Dan hears a raised voice, and then stomping. Nikolai is wrenched away from him, and then Phil is there, inexplicable and sudden, one fist bunched in Nikolai’s high fleece collar, the other jabbing a pointed finger towards Dan.

Phil’s mouth is flapping, tongue moving, and Dan only realises belatedly that the loud, angry noise he can hear is Phil’s voice, yelling at Nikolai.

“...think you can just go around hitting on anyone! Just because they’re too scared of you to move, does not mean they wanna fuck you, Nik,” he shouts.

Nikolai is gazing steadily back, that piteous sympathy wiped from his face, and in its place, a look of smug indifference. “Someone’s upset I’m playing with their toy. Haven’t you ever learned to share?”

“Ugh, why are you even still here?! I spent all day signing papers to get you out of my life, so kindly fuck off,” Phil says, releasing him with a disgusted noise. He looks seconds away from wiping his hands on his jeans to clean them of cooties.

Nikolai sighs in surrender, getting to his feet. “No need to shout, darling, I was only killing time while the pilot refuels.” Phil’s teeth clamp together so hard that Dan hears a little ‘chit’ noise. Nikolai turns to Dan, lower lip jutting out in a mockery of his earlier expression. “Sad to say our collusion will have to be postponed, Dan. You’ll have to settle for the far substandard skills of my former spouse.” He sidles right up to Phil, who goes rigid at once, and reaches up to pinch the shell of his ear. “Here’s a tip: when you’re hitting just the right spot, he loves a nibble right here.”

Phil wrenches away from Nikolai’s touch, scowling. Nikolai laughs delightedly at this, whilst Dan finds that nauseous feeling getting worse. An awkward film coats the already tense atmosphere; of course, Nikolai picks up on it at once.

“Good God,” he cries, balking, eyes flicking between Dan and Phil, “don’t tell me you actually top in this little arrangement, Philip?”

“Would you fuck off? I’d like to get on with never seeing you again,” Phil spits, and Nikolai lets out a last trill of laughter.

“Well this has been an informative day!” he says gleefully, but he’s already flouncing towards the exit, at last. “Ciao then, darling. Lovely to get to know you a bit better, Dan.”

He wanders through the open door, unhurried and carefree; the moment he’s out of sight, Dan’s muscles scream in relief as they release their tension. And then, Nikolai ducks his head back through the doorway, making Dan seize up so fast he wonders how he didn’t get a cramp.

“Oh!” Nikolai says, blasé, “and Phil, love, just so you know. I shall be making sure that you don’t get a penny out of me past what you’ve already been so graciously given. Hopefully next time you’ll think twice before pissing off someone who loves you so dearly. Bye bye, now boys. Wish you all the happiness.”

He winks, one last enormously irritating time, and floats out of sight.

Devoid of Nikolai’s massive presence, the suite seems large, dwarfing, and brimming with residual, undirected anger. Dan turns to Phil, still stood beside the bed, staring worriedly at the doorway Nikolai had disappeared through.

“Are you okay?” Dan asks, though his voice doesn’t sound like itself.

He swallows, trying to clear his airway of the bile that surged up when Nikolai’s damp, cold lips pushed into his skin. He can still feel their imprint, and it makes him want to go into Phil’s bathroom, to slather his face with all the fancy exfoliators and toners he’s seen beside Phil’s sink, and scrub the feeling away.

Phil’s eyes swivel back to him, sharp and glinting with leftover fury. “He kissed you.”

Dan’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, I meant about the money thing, but um. Yeah. He- he did. On the cheek. It happened so quickly, I couldn’t stop him-”

Phil inches closer, then drops to his knees in front of Dan, those blue irises blazing. His hands land on Dan’s knees, gripping hard. “He kissed you,” Phil repeats, voice hard and cold. “I hate that. I hate that he got close enough to even try.”

Echoing through Dan’s rapidly emptying mind are Nikolai’s poisonous words:

You don’t truly believe that Philip is interested in you, do you?

“You care?” Dan asks, feeling the itch of his anxiety, and needing to obliterate the idea Nikolai planted, that Phil is just using him.

Phil’s eyes darken even further; he looks utterly incensed. “Of course I care,” he grits out, fingertips digging into Dan’s knees. “He thinks he can just take whatever he wants, like a spoiled child, doesn’t give a damn about what you might feel-”

“So,” Dan interrupts, “you’re upset because Nikolai is an entitled bitch. Because he acts without thinking, tries it on with anyone-”

Phil surges up then, climbing into Dan’s lap so quickly that it knocks the air out of Dan’s lungs. Suddenly, Phil’s fingers are combing through his hair, their foreheads touching. Dan can see eons into the future, through the black holes in the centre of Phil’s crystalline eyes.

“I’m upset,” Phil hisses, “because he thought he could lay a finger on you - when you’re mine.”

Dan chokes on something, the air maybe, but has no time to catch his breath. Whatever has been holding Phil back until this point snaps, and he tumbles forwards, lips catching Dan’s in a hard, insistent kiss.

In the distant horizons of Dan’s void-like mind, he can hear a voice telling him that this is not advisable behaviour, that there’s a reason he should resist this, but he can barely hear it, let alone remember why it’s there. His hands skim over Phil’s shoulders; as he feels the muscles shifting, lets his fingers settle into the grooves of Phil’s spine, Dan groans, letting conscious thought wash away. It feels as if it’s been days since he’s had this, when in reality it’s been less than twenty-four hours. So much has happened in such a short space of time; what he wants, what he desperately needs, is a break, to not think for a while, to focus on physicality, and heat, and that delicious, burning twist of pleasure that’s coiling in his gut.

“Show me,” Dan pleads, pulling Phil closer, “show me I’m yours.”

(Chapter Nineteen!)

#too high #phan #phanfic #enemies to lovers au

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auroraphilealis · 6 years ago

Text

Stubborn Love

Stubborn Love | It’s Martyn who goes with Phil to pick out the ring, and it’s Martyn who watches Dan and Phil’s stubbornness nearly cause the whole thing to blow up in their faces. He’d complain if they weren’t so obviously perfect for each other. | Outsider POV, Light Angst, Proposal Fic | 8,780 Words

This was intended to be a cute little drabble based on (this) prompt, but as I began to write it, the fic decided it wanted to be so much more. I really enjoyed creating a story from Martyn’s POV in order to explain just how strong Dan and Phil’s relationship really is. Thanks to @imnotinclinedtomaturity for 1. Encouraging me to write the fic, and 2. For editing for me as always. It wouldn’t be as wonderful as it is without her help.

Fill for the @phandomficfests: bingo 2018, word prompt: Commitment.

(Ao3 Link)

“This one,” Phil says, the awe in his voice unmistakeable.

The ring is all black, with a thin strip of black diamonds running through the middle. The outer edge of the thick band is ribbed with a gentle design that’s almost silver, but not quite. The most fascinating aspect of the ring, however, is the way that Phil is looking at it.

Martyn’s only ever seen that look on his brother’s face one other time. Or, rather, in one other situation: everytime he looks at Dan.

It’s kind of adorable, really. Normally, Martyn would rib on him for being so hopelessly in love, but he figures he can cut Phil a bit of slack today.

But only just a bit.

“You’ve hardly looked at the others,” Martyn teases, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips as he bumps his shoulder playfully into Phil’s. “And it’s a bit simple. Dan’s more edgy, isn’t he?” he asks, side eyeing Phil knowingly.

But Phil just shakes his head without looking up from the ring. He doesn’t say anything, he looks far too mesmerized by the soft black of the wedding band to defend Dan the way he normally would. Martyn can see the way his finger traces over the glass, as if trying to imagine what the ring would feel like pressed against his skin.

“What about this one, though?” Martyn asks anyway, pointing to a second ring that had caught his attention. It was black too, pretty similar but just a little fancier, with silver encasing the sides. “Isn’t it a bit more Dan’s style?” he wheedles, nudging Phil playfully again.

“No, this is definitely the one,” Phil argues, his eyes barely flickering to the second one.

It’s a declaration of such utter conviction that Martyn doesn’t question him again. The teasing grin falls from his lips as he looks up, catches the salesperson’s eye, and gestures them over. When he looks back, he studies Phil’s face carefully: the delicate pull of his brows downward, the determination pinching at his lips.

And he smiles, because he knows that look, too.

It’s the look Phil always gets when he makes up his mind about something. It’s the look he’d had when he’d told Martyn he’d fallen in love with the kid on the other side of the computer screen; it’s the look he’d had when he’d told Martyn he was moving in with Dan; it’s the look he’d had when he’d told Martyn he was going to ask Dan to marry him.

So it’s definitely the right ring.

Only it’s not the right size.

As the saleslady slips it free from the display case and hands it over for Phil to examine up close, Martyn can already tell that it’s not going to fit Dan. It’s absolutely massive, and despite the fact that Dan has pretty big hands - a conversation Martyn never wants to have with his brother ever again - even Martyn can tell it’s too big.

Phil tries to slide it over his ring finger anyway, and then his middle, index, and thumb, but on each consecutive finger, the ring continues to slide down Phil’s skin with no resistance. Martyn can see that his lips are pursed, even more tensely than earlier. This isn’t a look of determination anymore - this is a look of distress.

Martyn looks back at the saleslady and asks the question Phil clearly isn’t able to ask just then.

“Do you have this style in any other sizes?”

“One second,” she replies, and moves under the counter again, pulling free the little box the ring had sat in. Martyn watches hopefully as she glances at the bottom of the box, where he assumes information about stock must sit, but from the corner of his eye he can see Phil continuing to check out the ring. He runs his fingers over the dark metal, the little black stones, and his face absolutely melts.

The saleslady clears her throat.

“Unfortunately that’s currently the only ring in that style we have on hand. We can send it to be resized though. Where you looking to size up or down?” she asks sweetly.

Phil doesn’t answer her question.

“My boyfriend’s birthday is on June 11th. Can it be resized by then?” he asks instead, already worrying at his bottom lip, his eyes wide and pleading. Martyn rests his hand on Phil’s shoulder reassuringly, doing his best to keep Phil from panicking.

The saleslady looks taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting the question. She blinks rapidly a few times, clearly caught off guard.

“I - I’m not sure. I’d have to check. Would the pick up be in store, or -”

“Is it possible to have it shipped to the Isle of Man?” Phil blurts out, very obviously growing more and more nervous by the second. Martyn tugs on his shoulder a little, draws him into his side, and curls his whole arm across the plane of Phil’s back.

“Of course,” the saleslady hastens to reply, only now she looks proper nervous. “I’m just not sure it could be done and arrive at your location by June 11th,” she admits. She’s staring at Phil sympathetically, but it looks almost forced. Martyn jostles Phil a little, convinces him to turn and look at Martyn instead.

“We could try another style?” he suggests calmly, “Maybe look at just the ones that are in Dan’s size?”

“No!” Phil retaliates passionately. He yanks himself roughly away from Martyn’s side, and turns to glare at him. “It has to be this one!” he insists, his eyes fiery. His brows are pulled down, that familiar look of steadfast determination resting at his pursed lips, and Martyn sighs.

“Alright, okay,” he says in an attempt to placate his brother. “I get it, you want this one,” he reassures, turning back to face the saleslady. Her eyes are still wide, but at least she doesn’t look mock-sympathetic anymore.

“You can always come back to have it sized, sir. David Yurman does sizings at any store, no matter when the transaction was originally completed,” the saleslady explains, but Phil isn’t really listening anymore. He’s glaring down at the little - well, large - piece of metal resting in the palm of his hand as if staring at it hard enough will make it the right size.

Martyn just nods his head, because the suggestion is a fair enough one. Phil had invited Martyn along to be his moral support, to keep the salespeople from screwing him over, and to be the voice of reason in a moment such as this, so that’s what he’s going to do. He reaches out to grasp at Phil’s shoulder again, forcing his attention back onto Martyn.

Distressed blue eyes stare into his own. Martyn hates to see that look on his brother’s face.

“It doesn’t have to be the perfect size right away,” Martyn reminds him calmly, seriously. “You and Dan can come back and have it sized after his birthday,” he adds coaxingly.

“You don’t understand,” Phil huffs, the sound of his voice defeated. He drops his gaze, clearly unable to look at Martyn any longer, as his shoulders slump impossibly, all of the tension fleeing from them instantly. “It has to be perfect. I want it to be perfect when he sees it.”

Martyn stares at his face, at the longing and the determination there, at the way Phil seems to have slumped into himself. He hates seeing Phil like this, but he also can’t help feeling like Phil is being a little bit dramatic.

He sighs.

Phil might be in this thirties now, but he’s still the pouty little kid Martyn has always known him to be. Everything has to be perfect with Phil. Everything.

But then again, Phil is about to propose to the love of his life, so Martyn guesses he can understand. Martyn turns back to the saleslady, prepared to do whatever he can to fix this, to make it work, so that Phil’s plan’s aren’t completely ruined.

“What’s the fastest you can have it ready by?” he asks, voice serious.

“The turn around is 14 business days,” the saleslady rushes to reassure them, biting a glossy bottom lip, desperate not to lose this sale. “I can put a rush order on it, but I’m not sure -”

“If money’s the issue, it’s not a problem,” Phil says, interrupting her, eyes dark and desperate. His palm closes around the ring, and he stares at her, imploring.

Martyn’s fingers tighten on his brother’s shoulder, and does his best not to roll his eyes. It’s just like his brother to try and throw money at a problem in order to make it go away - anything to avoid having to deal with disappointment, to deal with his own problems in an actual adult way.

The saleslady looks upset, like she wishes she could give them better news, but knows that she can’t. Martyn just wants to calm his brother down, just wants to find the fastest way possible to get the ring sized for Dan’s birthday.

“The best I can do is make it a rush order, but you wanted it shipped to another location. Even with a rushed sizing, I can’t promise it’ll be there by June 11th.”

Phil looks devastated, but Martyn’s just determined.

“Put the rush on it,” he agrees, taking over for his little brother. “We’d really appreciate it if you could get it done any faster than 14 days.” Martyn offers the girl his most disarming, pleasant smile. ”And if you could make the delivery a rushed one as well, that’d be great.”

It’s a family thing, the Isle of Man. Martyn never feels right coming here alone. Over the years their family has grown to include Cornelia, and then Dan, and it no longer feels right to come here without them, either.

Phil’s blocked out a solid five days of his and Dan’s schedule for this trip. Martyn knows this because he helped organize it for Phil. They arrive on the tenth, and don’t plan to leave until the fifteenth.

Martyn doesn’t want to imagine what Phil will do if the ring doesn’t arrive by then. He’s been party to Phil’s tantrums for the better part of thirty years, and although Phil’s gotten quite a bit better about not throwing things at other people’s heads, he’s still not exactly pleasant to be around when he’s mad.

Martyn can’t imagine what Dan has to deal with back home, but if the way Dan still looks at Phil after ten years is anything to go by, Martyn’s willing to bet Dan’s more than happy to put up with it.

It makes him smile, and he curls his arm tighter around Cornelia’s shoulder, glad that he and his brother have both found someone willing to put up with them and all of their quirks. Martyn hasn’t asked Cornelia to marry him yet, but it’s mostly because he doesn’t feel like he needs to. To them, marriage is just a piece of paper. It doesn’t define their relationship in anyway.

It’s different for Phil; he likes to pretend that he isn’t all that into romance, but he really, really is. Martyn knows that to Phil, asking Dan to marry him is the biggest and best gesture of “I love you,” that he can think of, and Martyn couldn’t be prouder that his little brother is finally choosing to do just that.

Later, when he and Phil are alone in their mum’s kitchen, finishing up the after dinner dishes, Martyn bumps his shoulder and says, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Phil turns and looks at him, confused. “For what?”

But Martyn doesn’t answer, because Dan’s just in the other room with Cornelia, and he knows that Phil will figure it out.

On June 11th, they gather around the kitchen table to sing Dan happy birthday. Dan is all smiles, despite trying to pretend that he hates the attention, and he giggles at the silly little decorations Phil had insisted on sticking all over the homemade cake. As the song winds down, and Dan is instructed to blow out the candles, Martyn watches Dan glance over at Phil. His little brother is grinning gleefully - he always did love birthdays - and Dan is staring back at him fondly. His eyes speak volumes as he turns to “make a wish.”

It's disgusting, and ridiculously sappy, but Martyn’s grinning anyway.

Mum starts to cut the cake then, a handful of little dessert plates already stacked and waiting on the table to be handed around once they’re filled. Dan turns to speak to Phil, but Phil is already there at his side, a dorky birthday boy ball cap in his hand. Dan squacks as Phil goes to wrestle it onto his head, the sound of Dan’s high pitched, distraught voice filling the room.

Cornelia is laughing at all the fuss, and Martyn can’t help but to join in.

“Get a room!” Martyn groans teasingly, the tone of his voice joking, hands cupped around his mouth to make his voice louder. Cornelia shoves him, laughing all the while, but this only urges Martyn on. He joins Dan and Phil at the front of the table, and pushes in between them, just to mess with them both. His hands come up to ruffle both Dan, and Phil’s hair, and he laughs as Dan shouts in reproach.

“Twat!” Dan complains at the same time as Martyn knocks the birthday boy hat askew. He’s smiling, batting playfully at Martyn’s hand to push it away, but that’s not what catches Martyn’s attention. As Phil shouts “Hey!” in complaint, and shoves back at Martyn playfully, Martyn watches Dan reach up and carefully pull the dorky birthday boy hat properly back onto the top of his head, despite all of his complaints otherwise.

“Hey!” Phil complains as well, shoving Martyn back playfully, but Martyn isn’t watching Phil.

Dan’s not looking at anyone anymore, but he’s smiling this soft, secret smile to himself that Martyn isn’t sure anyone else notices except him.

Martyn can’t help staring, can’t help noticing. It’s ridiculous, how cute the action is. Five seconds ago Dan had been putting up a fuss about the hat, complaining that it was entirely too silly, and yet here he is fixing it back atop his head the moment it nearly falls away.

That small, secret smile speaks volumes about his feelings for Phil, and Martyn feels a bit of affection creeping over him. He can’t believe someone can love his idiot of a brother this much.

The feeling of Phil playfully shoving him again not only knocks Martyn out of his thoughts, but knocks him off balance. He reaches out for Phil instinctively, pulling his brother along with him as he stumbles across the kitchen floor. He doesn’t fall, but Phil does, and Martyn just manages to catch Phil awkwardly in his arms.

Martyn’s laughing as Phil’s gangly limbs wrap haphazardly around Martyn’s middle in an attempt to catch himself, but he still collides painfully with Martyn’s chest.

“If you wanted a hug, you could have just asked,” Martyn teases breathlessly, not one to give up an opportunity such as this.

“Shut up!” Phil groans, doing his best to drag himself out of Martyn’s hold, but Martyn’s not done with him yet.

“Awww, little brother. I’m just teasing,” he jokes, his voice low. He reaches up to ruffle Phil’s hair again, and Phil groans, immediately struggling against him. Martyn just wraps his other arm around Phil’s shoulders, and drags him back in real close before Phil can get away. “Come here, give me a kiss!”

With loud, wet kissy noises, Martyn smacks his mouth all over Phil’s face, laughing as Phil struggles against him, groaning and complaining all the while.

Eventually, Phil manages to tear himself out of Martyn’s hold, but not before the entire room has started laughing with him. Martyn’s still grinning when Phil finally rights himself and turns to glare at him. He chuckles when Phil punches him playfully in the shoulder, eyes darting over to catch Dan’s reaction.

It’s obvious he’s been watching the entire interaction just as much as the rest of their family has been, but unlike the rest of them who are smiling and laughing at witnessing such a familiar sibling interaction, Dan almost looks a little bit sad. He’s smiling too, but his eyes are a little dim, and his lips a little downturned.

Martyn flashes back to all the times Phil would come downstairs in the morning, looking exhausted, only to tell Martyn another story about how Dan’s family life wasn’t so good. It makes Martyn’s heart pang a little bit with the hurt for Dan, and he reaches out to pat his soon to be brother-in-law affectionately on the shoulder.

“Did you want a kiss too?” he teases, because he doesn’t know how else to cheer the boy up. He puckers up his lips playfully, laughing when Dan’s face twists up into a comical twist of disgust and amusement.

Phil shoves at him again.

“Get your own boyfriend!” he defends weakly, his voice high pitched. The sound is familiar, the same tone Phil has always has when he fights with Martyn, when he tries his best to come up with a witty come back, but the words just won’t come.

Martyn rolls his eyes in Cornelia’s direction, and sticks his tongue out at Phil.

“If we’re all done rough housing,” Kath interrupts pointedly, humor lacing her voice, “Don’t you think it’s time we settled down for cake?”

She doesn’t bother waiting for a reaction. Instead, she begins passing out the little dessert plates, purposefully placing them down at each place setting decorating the family dining table despite the fact that no one is sitting down.

Martyn knows it’s her way of insisting that they all do.

The Lester clan are quick to comply, filling in the seats around the table. Dan’s sat at the head of it all, still wearing the silly birthday boy cap that Phil had wrestled on top of his head, and he’s already dug into his rather large slice of cake.

“Did you bake this yourself, Kath?” he asks sweetly, voice soft, the way it always is when he talks to their mum. Martyn rolls his eyes to himself, but when he glances up to see Phil’s reaction, he just looks ridiculously in love.

“With a little help from Cornelia, while you and Phil were out for the day,” their mum admits, her smile shy. Dan is quick to compliment her, assuring her that it’s wonderful. He’s absolutely gushing, and it’d be cute if Phil weren’t making heart eyes at his boyfriend.

Martyn makes a gagging motion at Cornelia, who smacks him despite the smile on her face.

“Hush up,” she insists. They both know that Cornelia used to behave the exact same way, only she gets to see Kath far more often than Dan currently does, so it’s no surprise she’s grown a little out of the suck up stage.

As the conversation continues, Dan takes advantage of the moment to make a dig at Phil for the many adornments he must have added sometime after they got in for the night, and the table laughs at Phil’s expense because that’s what they do - they tease, and they joke, and they make fun of each other because that’s something that only family gets to do.

Phil’s cheeks are bright red, and he looks almost embarrassed, but mostly he just looks enamored.

As the six of them finish up the last few bites of their cake, Kath stands up with a great big smile and says, “Is it time for presents, then?”

The table erupts into an excited chorus of “yes!” as Kath leaves the room to fetch them. It’s only a moment before she returns with two wrapped presents in her arms.

Martyn turns to Phil expectantly, wondering where his present is. Phil hadn’t shown Martyn the backup present he’d gotten for Dan, and he’s excited to find out what it is, knowing all the while that nothing will be able to compete with the ring that’s hopefully in the post and on its way here by now.

But when Martyn’s gaze lands on Phil’s face, he realizes that something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

All the blood has drained from his brother’s face, and he’s biting his bottom lip hard, eyes wide and horrified. He won’t look at Martyn, he won’t look at Dan. He won’t look at anyone. He’s staring in distracted horror at the far wall of the kitchen, while Martyn stares at him and Dan begins to unwrap the presents that have been set in front of him.

Phil didn’t buy a back up present. Martyn can see it on his face. Phil didn’t buy Dan a back up present, and now he’s going to have to face the look of disappointment that is bound to appear on Dan’s face no matter what excuse Phil manages to come up with.

Unable to help it, Martyn finds himself desperately wanting to laugh. The idea of his brother coming up with the best birthday present possible for Dan, and yet unable to present it to him on his actual birthday, is almost too much. A part of Martyn feels horrible for Phil, who probably hadn’t been able to think of a single thing that could even began to compare with a proposal, but mostly, Martyn just can’t wait to see how Phil attempts to get himself out of this one.

He’s eager, more eager then he should be, as Dan unwraps first his present from the Lesters (a new build-your-own terrarium), and then his present from Cornelia and Martyn (a board game called Munchkin that they’ll probably all play together sometime this vacation).

Finally, Dan turns to Phil expectantly, a wide, excited smile on his face, only to find Phil avoiding his gaze. Martyn watches gleefully as Dan’s expression falls, confusion taking over. Phil looks like he’s literally dying, his face is so pale, and the way he’s biting his bottom lip makes it look like he’s going to bite straight through it. His entire body is turned away from Dan.

“Phil?” Dan asks, the confusion clear in his voice.

Phil swallows thickly, and finally turns so that he’s facing Dan. His expression is almost pleading, but when he opens his mouth to say something, nothing comes out.

Dan only seems to grow more concerned at this, only it’s not clear whether he’s upset or not. He just looks downright flustered, unable to comprehend what’s going on, and why Phil looks as terrified as he currently does.

Their parents look confused as well, though they aren’t speaking. It feels like a hush has fallen over the entire room. Cornelia is clutching at Martyn’s leg under the table, and her gaze is boring into the side of his face, but Martyn doesn’t look at her. He bites back his own grin, waiting, ready to watch the rest of the night’s events unfold.

“I uh,” Phil finally manages, his voice high pitched. He clears his throat and tries again, “I might have - your gift is - well,” he scrambles, voice growing more and more squeaky as he goes on. Martyn stares at him gleefully, unable to hide his smile now. This whole moment is just too hilarious. It’s just like Phil, to mess this up.

And while Martyn knows he probably shouldn’t be laughing, Phil is his little brother, and he just can’t help himself. Families tease, after all.

“I don’t have it,” Phil finally finishes lamely, staring down at the palms of his hands miserably.

Martyn finally glances over to Dan, desperate to see his reaction - only it’s not quite what he’d been expecting.

Dan’s always been kind of a chill guy. Martyn’s seen him get ragey when they play board games together, seen him gnaw at a video game controller the same way Phil does. He knows that Dan’s not a saint, but the expression on his face still somehow surprises him.

Martyn had been expecting a teasing grin, and a joke or two exchanged. He’d been expecting Dan to wheedle some kind of information out of Phil, to push for Phil to tell him what he’d got for him, and why it wasn’t here yet.

Instead, Dan just looks pissed the fuck off. His brows are all scrunched up, and he’s glaring at Phil with his arms crossed over his chest. It makes the muscles he has there bulge, a surprising feature Martyn hadn’t been expecting, and something that almost lends a bit of menace to his stance. It doesn’t matter that Martyn knows Dan wouldn’t hurt a fly, the image is still there.

“Phil,” Dan asks, his voice steady. “Did you forget to get me something for my birthday again?” The words are cold, harsh despite their lack of intonation.

And oh, oh shit, that’s why. That’s why Dan looks so pissed off. There’s no way Martyn could know the particulars of the time Phil had apparently forgotten, because Phil had never told him, but there’s obviously something there that makes the moment a sore spot for the both of them. Martyn has never seen Dan look at his brother like this before.

Nor has he ever seen his brother look so ashamed.

The room has grown tense. Their parents are sat stock still, looking nervous, now. Cornelia’s hand has turned into a claw against Martyn’s thigh. The air is thick with tension, and neither Dan nor Phil are looking at anyone else in the room.

“Well,” their mum finally says, clearing her throat awkwardly, and only seeming to add to the tension in the room. “I think maybe we ought to head to bed,” she adds, despite the fact that it’s hardly nine o’clock, and they usually take any excuse to have a family game night.

Her chair screeches loudly against the floor as she stands up, their dad following in her stead almost immediately. Martyn doesn’t know what else to do but stand as well.

Neither Dan nor Phil acknowledge anything that’s been said, though Phil winces at the loud sound of the chairs scratching against the floor.

Cornelia grabs tight to Martyn’s hand, and begins to tug him out of the room.

“Goodnight, you two,” she states hastily, wincing at her own poor choice of words, and then, “And happy birthday again, Dan!”

A harsh sound, too small and subtle to identify, interrupts the quiet of the room, making the atmosphere somehow even darker than before. The four of them rush out of the dining room as quickly as they can.

They don’t speak as they make their way to the upstairs landing and trail awkwardly into their rooms.

Martyn and Cornelia turn in early. While they lay in bed, Martyn quietly explains to Cornelia what’s happened, and why Dan’s present isn’t here yet. Her eyes get a little wet, and she purses her lips without saying anything, but Martyn doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t know what to say either, other than that his brother is kind of a stubborn idiot.

They’re up by eight the next morning, still feeling a little off kilter after the strangeness of last night, and they head down the stairs together for breakfast.

They aren’t expecting Phil to already be downstairs, looking disheveled where he sits on the recliner in front of the TV. He’s nursing a mug of coffee, dressed in a loose pair of pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.

There’s a pillow on the sofa, and Phil’s left the blanket bunched up in the corner. It’s clear he slept down here last night, and the dark shadows under his eyes make it clear that he didn’t sleep very well either.

Martyn feels bad for him, he really does, and he pats Phil reassuringly on the shoulder as he passes him by. His brothers eyes flick up to him for a brief moment, but otherwise Phil doesn’t really react. Instead, he curls his fingers tighter around his mug of coffee, and goes back to sipping at it quietly.

Martyn sighs, and wanders into the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

He settles on a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee before he joins Phil back in the lounge, grabbing the TV remote while he’s at it. Phil doesn’t look too bothered about the news, doesn’t look like he’s paying any attention at all, so Martyn flips through the channels until he finds an early morning movie to put on.

It takes Cornelia a little longer to make herself breakfast - some eggs and avocado with toast that Martyn steals a bit of - and the three of them settle into the quiet of the morning. There’s a tense silence surrounding them for a little while, mostly coming from Phil and the tight way he’s curled into himself on the recliner, but eventually Martyn is able to get lost in the movie. His own shoulders untense, and he even finds himself laughing at the silly antics of the people on the screen.

“Dan?” Phil suddenly says, breaking the quiet tension he’d been harboring for the last hour or so. “Where are you going?” he continues. His voice is high with stress.

Martyn looks up, surprised at the sudden question. His arm is curled comfortably over Cornelia’s shoulder, and for a moment, last night hadn’t seemed to matter. Dan’s sudden appearance is admittedly a surprise, but more than that, the fact that he seems to be leaving takes Martyn off guard.

“To the shops,” Dan replies, shrugging on a large jacket as he makes his way over to the front door.

Phil shoves himself out of the recliner, and stands, looking as if he’s going to rush to Dan’s side and stop him from going anywhere. Martyn watches the way Phil restrains himself, watches the way he worries at his bottom lip, eyes pleading with Dan.

“What? Why? At 10 in the morning?” Phil asks, sounding desperate, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Martyn turns to stare at Dan again, takes in the dark circles under his eyes, and the anger brewing in his gaze. It seems clear that he hadn’t slept well last night either, despite having the bed rather than the sofa. Martyn winces, trying to imagine how bad last time could have been for Dan to be this fucking angry over it.

Dan zips up his jacket and marches the last few steps towards the front door, all the while glaring at Phil.

“To buy myself a present, because my boyfriend didn’t bother to get me anything.”

Martyn winces at the harsh words, and finally looks away. He can’t bear to watch this moment unfolding in front of him, can’t bear to be witness to something neither male probably wants anyone else to be witness too. Suddenly, Martyn feels really bad for being downstairs, enjoying a stupid movie on the telly, when Dan and Phil are fighting.

Martyn has never seen them fight before, and he regrets that he has to see it now.

“Dan,” Phil pleads. “I told you, it’s not like that,” he continues, trying to defend himself. It’s clear that Dan isn’t listening, though, because in the next few seconds, the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut echoes through the room.

The sound of Phil falling back into the recliner is sharp, as is the deep, shuddery exhale that floods the room.

Cornelia is the first to leave the room. The tense atmosphere is back, and it’s almost suffocating. It’s clear that Phil didn’t want them to see that, clear that Phil is upset and wants to be alone, but he also looks to be frozen where he is on the recliner. Some part of Martyn wonders if Phil thinks it would be rude to excuse himself to the room he was supposed to share with Dan when Dan is so obviously upset with him.

He doesn’t blame Cornelia for leaving, but it does leave Martyn a little unsure of himself. He ends up switching on another movie as the first one ends, sitting stiffly on the sofa while his brother stoically tries to hide his emotions away.

Eventually their parents come downstairs too, but while their dad heads out for a game of golf he’d promised some of the lads, their mum stops to give Phil a warm, sympathetic hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen.

There’s some delighted exclamations, and Martyn hears the word “bake,” being repeated a few times over. The girls have clearly found something enjoyable to do away from the tension in the lounge, and if Martyn weren’t so cruddy at baking himself, he’d go and help them. As it is, he feels kind of stuck trying to cheer up his brother, who very clearly doesn’t want to talk just then.

As the morning wears on, the smell of cookies begins to fill the house. Laughter bubbles from the kitchen, and the hum of family and joy finally feels prevalent. It’s the way the Isle of Man is supposed to feel - but Phil is sat apart from it all, all clammed up and hiding what he really feels from the very people Phil should share it with.

Martyn’s just about to get up and insist that he and his brother go for a walk, maybe have a nice talk, when the door finally opens again and Dan walks in holding a ton of shopping bags.

Both Martyn and Phil’s heads snap up to stare at him, mouths gaping in surprise as Dan drops the bags carelessly at his feet before removing his jacket. Martyn can see Phil staring pleadingly at Dan, but Dan ignores him, avoiding his gaze. Once his jacket has been hung back up next to the front door, Dan picks the bags back up, and marches up the stairs with his spoils. The sound of a door slamming shut behind him echoes through the house loud enough that even the laughing girls in the kitchen fall silent for a moment.

The set of Phil’s shoulders drops again, and he sighs loudly as he falls back against the recliner. Martyn hadn’t even realized Phil had sat up straight until that exact moment, and he stares at Phil sadly as his brother closes his eyes, looking tired.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Dan comes back downstairs, this time wearing an expensive looking designer sweater, and what appear to be a new pair of jeans. Phil’s complained enough about Dan being a label whore for Martyn to guess what it is exactly that he went out and bought, and he finds himself feeling terribly for Phil’s bank account.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Dan charged it all to Phil’s credit card, and just after Phil had dropped a good two thousand pounds on Dan’s engagement ring. It’s a petty thing to do, especially considering whose card is used doesn’t actually matter when they share everything as it is.

That will be quite the discussion once Phil shows Dan what his birthday present really is.

Without hesitating for even a split second, Dan walks straight into the kitchen with a bright smile on his face, and starts talking to Kath and Cornelia as if nothing is wrong. Martyn can hear the brightness in his voice even if he can’t hear the words.

When he glances back at Phil’s face, he looks all the more dejected for it all, and slowly slides deeper into the soft cushion of the recliner.

For a while, they sit in almost-silence. The movie Martyn had picked out earlier has begun to wind down, and it’s nearly over now. The kitchen is filled with the excited sounds of baking mixed with Dan’s deep laugh, all while Phil sits and mopes in quiet pain over his fight with Dan.

Martyn’s about ready to give it all up, and leave the room as well, when the doorbell suddenly rings. Surprised, both Martyn and Phil glance over at the door. As Martyn’s gaze slowly falls back onto Phil, he notes how rigid Phil suddenly looks. Despite the obvious nerves, however, there’s something hopeful brewing in Phil’s eyes.

“Phil?” Kath calls after a beat, “Can you get that, love? I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she explains, sounding as bewildered as Martyn imagines she must feel. Martyn can’t tear his eyes away from Phil, though, from the stuttered way he launches himself out of the recliner and stands on shaky feet. Finally, finally, Martyn feels like grinning again, and he watches as Phil stumbles towards the front door.

“Y-Yeah, I’ve go-got it!” Phil stutters back loudly, the nerves clear in the way his hands shake as he finally makes it to the door and reaches up to fumble with the doorknob. Turning completely in his seat on the sofa, Martyn watches with greedy eyes as the door comes open.

Unsurprisingly, the postman is stood on the other side of the door. Martyn’s grin only grows larger.

“Is there a Philip Lester here?” the postman asks, sounding bored. The house is so quiet as everyone waits to find out who’s at the door, that the words almost seem to echo.

“Tha- that’s me,” Phil practically yelps, stumbling over the words. The postman hardly glances at him as he fiddles with a little handheld device, before handing it over.

“Sign here,” the man says blandly. As Phil moves to do just that, Martyn turns towards the kitchen, only to find Dan poking his head around the doorway curiously. His eyes are wide, unsure, and he’s biting his bottom lip like he knows that he was too quick to jump to conclusions last night.

Martyn has to stifle a laugh as he turns back to Phil just in time to watch Phil fumble with a small brown package the postman has left with him.

“Phil?” Dan asks, the first thing he’s said to Phil since he got back from his shopping spree.

Phil shuts the door, blatantly shaking with nerves, and turns to face Dan very, very slowly.

“What’s going on?” Dan asks suspiciously “What is that?” he prods. He sounds wary, but there’s no hiding the excitement, the hope in his voice. Martyn’s grinning like an idiot, but he just can’t help himself, because this is the moment he’d been waiting for. Last night, when he’d thought that Dan would joke with Phil and not mind so much that his birthday present was late, Martyn had been greedily waiting for the moment when Dan would finally get to see the huge surprise Phil had planned for him.

And now it’s finally here. Somehow, the fact that it’s coming on the tail end of this morning’s mini tantrum and petulant shopping spree only makes it all the funnier.

“I tried to tell you I got you something,” Phil replies softly, eyes soft and a little pleading as he looks at Dan. Martyn can’t stop staring between the two of them, amused beyond belief. Dan looks shocked, and almost like he feels bad about this morning as he finally stumbles out of the kitchen doorway and more properly into the lounge. Kath and Cornelia are quick to follow, with Kath looking equally as confused as Dan.

Martyn catches Cornelia’s eye and winks at her.

“It was just a little late, is all,” Phil explains shyly, worrying his bottom lip the same way he’s worrying the little brown package between his hands. “I tried really hard to make sure it came on time, but…” Phil doesn’t finish the sentiment, instead opting to shrug his shoulders a little awkwardly. He still looks a little ashamed, like the reminder of whatever fight had occured ages ago hasn’t really left his mind.

Someday, Martyn has to ask about that. Maybe after this is all said and done, and the old wound isn’t quite as sore as it seems to be right now.

“Phil…” Dan breaths, arms slack at his sides as he stares guilty at Phil. Phil just waves him off, laughing a little wetly as he starts to tear away at the packing tape holding the little box closed. Martyn can see the tears pricking at Phil’s eyes, watches as one slips away. Phil purses his lips, like he’s trying to hold himself together. Martyn can see that both their mum, and Dan are confused about Phil’s sudden bout of emotion, and it only makes the whole moment feel that much stronger to him.

Phil’s not looking at Dan anymore, clearly too focused on holding himself together to meet Dan’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Dan,” Phil chokes out, shaking his head a little bit as he continues to tear open the box. “I just wanted it to be perfect, so I… well, I figured better late than never, right?” he asks, laughing darkly at his own words.

Martyn can hear him inhale sharply in an obvious attempt to hold back any more tears, but they seem to fall anyway as Dan stumbles forwards.

“Phil, I’m really sorry,” Dan starts to say as he gets closer, but Phil shakes his head.

“No, it’s okay,” he insists, finally getting the box open and lifting his head to stare shakily at Dan. His lips are quirked at the side in a nervous smile, and his cheeks are red with the held back emotion he’s trying so hard to keep in check. “I understand,” he adds, his voice ridiculously sweet.

But Martyn can’t blame him, not as he watches his brother reach into the brown package, fumbling around for something inside. When he pulls his hand back out, it’s with a folded slip of paper that he crumples up in his hand and shoves into his pajama bottom pocket, before reaching back inside again.

This time, Martyn knows he must be closing his fingers around a small, velvet box.

The air in the room feels tense, similar to last night, and yet filled with so much more charged energy. There’s a sense of knowing pervading the room, despite the fact that neither Kath, nor Dan know with any certainty what’s coming.

But it’s coming, and Martyn can feel it, as his brother smiles another wobbly smile at Dan. Phil’s body twitches as he starts to pull the present free, but his hands are hiding what it is. Slowly, Phil begins to crouch down, the movements of his body obvious, intentional, as their family looks on.

The gasp that Dan lets out as Phil finally settles down onto one knee is loud in the sudden quiet of the room.

“Dan?” Phil asks, staring up at him with wide, wet eyes. His hands shake as he finally reveals what he’s been planning for weeks to give to Dan. Martyn can see him fumbling with the top of the little black box in his attempts to get it open, but eventually he does.

“Oh god,” Dan gasps, reaching up to cover his mouth with his hands. He doesn’t seem to be concerned with how badly Phil is shaking. He looks far too stunned, almost disbelieving of what’s happening to much care about anything except what Phil’s about to do.

It only takes a moment for the tears to fall. Martyn watches as the tears cascade down his face in a surprised torrent of emotions. Dan doesn’t look like he can hold himself up much longer as he stumbles forward, stumbles closer to Phil until they’re mere meters apart.

Phil’s grinning up at Dan, seemingly giddy with relief that the ring is finally here, that he’s finally doing this, that it’s almost over. He doesn’t even look nervous that Dan’s going to say no. He just looks happy, and it blows Martyn away how someone can be so confident in their love for someone else, in that person’s love for them.

“Sorry it’s a little late,” Phil says, his voice stuttery and low. Dan collapses onto his knees in front of him, hands still covering his mouth, eyes scrunched up as he continues to cry. Phil just kind of laughs, and Martyn watches as he ducks his head a little sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry on your birthday,” he murmurs, voice so soft Martyn almost doesn’t hear it.

Dan chokes on a laugh that almost sounds like a little sob.

“Dan… you’re my best friend. You have been for a really long time,” Phil says, choking on his own swell of emotion. Martyn can see him holding back his tears. “And I know you know that. I know you know that I love you, too. But that doesn’t make it any less worth saying.”

Dan laughs again, and he looks almost like he’s proper sobbing now. His chest is heaving with the force of his emotion as his face scrunches up, and he stares at Phil, watching, waiting.

“I love you,” Phil says for good measure, laughing himself. The sound comes out stuttery, and Martyn isn’t sure if it’s the nerves, or the desire to cry, but either way, it makes Martyn a little weepy as well.

He glances over at Cornelia, and wonders for a moment if maybe, just maybe, Cornelia wants this as well, because the moment is just so beautiful and sweet it makes marriage almost feel like a thing.

Cornelia looks absolutely delighted, but she doesn’t look jealous or particularly interested in participating in such an event herself. It settles Martyn, to know they’re always on the same page, and he smiles as he turns back to his little brother.

“Daniel Howell,” Phil finally says, “I’m tired of just being your boyfriend, so… will you marry me?” Phil’s voice does something strange as he says the words, lilting highly, until he sounds just as unsure and nervous as he probably should, but it’s okay.

It’s okay because it only seems to make the moment seem even more real as Dan quite suddenly throws himself into Phil’s arms, knocking his boyfriend a little off center. Martyn can see him nodding his head eagerly into the crook of Phil’s neck as Phil’s arms move to wrap around him, can almost hear the whispered yes yes yes pressed against Phil’s skin, and feels his own tears start to fall.

He can’t help it, not when he can see just how happy Phil is, not after all the stress of the last 12 hours, not with a moment this monumental.

Marriage might not feel like a lot to Martyn, but he knows it's a lot to Phil, and apparently Dan as well, and it’s impossible not to be overcome with the emotions of the moment.

Sniffling, Martyn reaches up and swipes his tears away as Cornelia joins him on the sofa, tearing up as well. She’s laughing, the sound loud and boisterous in the room. It’s almost infectious, and Martyn hears Phil start to laugh as well.

From the kitchen doorway, Martyn can hear his mum quietly weeping, and his eyes dart over to look at her. She’s smiling despite the tears, and it’s enough to make Martyn smiles as well. When he looks back, Phil is rocking Dan in his arms, laughing giddly into the top of dark, messy curls. Dan’s grasping so tight to Phil, it looks like he’s never going to let go, not even long enough to get the actual ring on his finger.

In fact, for as much trouble as the silly thing is, it’s currently laying discarded on the floor at Phil’s feet, not quite forgotten, but by no means the most important thing right now.

It seems to take ages, but eventually Phil is able to pull himself and Dan together enough to get them up off the floor, and relocated on the sofa. Phil’s holding the little black velvet box again, and he slides the ring free as soon as he’s seated in front of Dan so he can slide it onto Dan’s ring finger.

Dan’s face is tear streaked, and he’s staring at the dark ring in complete awe. The moment it rests against his ring finger, he reaches up to stroke gentle fingers over the black stones embedded in it.

“It’s David Yurman,” Phil explains softly, affectionately. “Cause you’d mentioned before that you liked him, and I figured… well, you are kind of particular, Dan,” Phil teases, giggling a little when Dan sends him a mock offended look.

“Shut up,” he complains, but he’s smiling anyway, clearly used to Phil making fun of his affection for labels and brand names. He doesn’t once look up from the ring as he rolls it over his finger, taking in every last detail with greedy eyes. It’s obvious that he adores it, and Martyn’s suddenly proud of his brother because he really had picked out the perfect ring. That stubborn determination in the David Yurman store no longer feels quite so annoying.

“Wait,” Dan suddenly says after a moment, finally looking up from his ring. His brows are furrowed as he looks up at Phil. “What about you? Where’s your ring?” he asks, clearly confused.

The question surprises Martyn. Phil hadn’t once said anything about getting himself a ring. He’d been entirely focused on finding the perfect one for Dan, and it hadn’t seemed the least bit strange to Martyn in the moment. Wasn’t it like a thing where the person who proposed didn’t wear a ring?

Now that Martyn was thinking about it, it sounded kind of ridiculous.

“Oh!” Phil replies, sounding as if he’s just remembered something. “I don’t have one,” he admits sheepishly. He opens his mouth to continue, probably to explain, but Dan cuts him off before he can.

“Phiiil,” Dan whines, sounding entirely put out and almost offended. “That’s not fair. I want to see a ring on that finger as well,” he complains, lips puckered up in annoyance as he points aggressively towards Phil’s currently undecorated hand. “It doesn’t feel much like an engagement if only one of us is wearing the ring.”

Dan’s pouting, and he’s crossed his arms over his chest defensively as he stares at Phil. The entire image it makes is ridiculously cheesy, and the fact that Phil is smiling fondly at Dan makes it almost sickeningly so.

Martyn makes an undisguised gagging noise that goes ignored by the two boys.

“Come on Dan,” Phil says softly, reaching forward and gently prying Dan’s arms apart. It takes a little bit of struggling, but eventually Phil manages to take Dan’s left hand in his. He’s still smiling like a completely enamoured idiot. “Who said I’m not going to wear a ring, too?” he teases, squeezing Dan’s fingers in his.

Dan’s pout only seems to grow heavier. Martyn imagines Phil finds it absolutely adorable, but Martyn just finds it entirely ridiculous, and rolls his eyes despite the fact that he’s still smiling.

“I thought maybe when we get home, you could pick one out for me.” The words are said so soft, and low that Martyn almost misses them, but Dan doesn’t. His jaw drops open in surprise, and his cheeks seem to burn a dark red as the information hits him. The way his lips curl at the corner is enough to tell Martyn just how much Dan is living for the sentiment.

Shit. Martyn really has to give it to his brother. He really knows how Dan works. Chuckling in shock, Martyn can do nothing but watch as Dan’s expression turns to literal mush, it’s so sappingly sweet.

“As soon as we get home,” Dan agrees wholeheartedly.

Before Martyn is even fully prepared for it, Dan leans forward and presses his lips wetly to Phil’s, the force of his touch nearly knocking Phil over - which would have been unfortunate, considering Martyn and them are currently sharing the same sofa and Martyn really doesn’t need a lap full of his brother and his fiance making out.

Phil manages to catch himself, laughing into the kiss, one hand falling to the back of the sofa to keep him upright, and the other curling against the side of Dan’s face.

It would have continued to be cute if Dan hadn’t threaded his fingers through Phil’s hair and dragged his face so close that the image becomes almost pornographic. Martyn can’t help it when he says, “Get a room!” almost teasingly.

Phil doesn’t so much as bother to pull away from Dan when he picks up a pillow and tosses it backward at Martyn.

It misses, but Martyn’s not really all that surprised. Phil has always had terrible aim. Except, it seems, with Dan.

I’d love to hear what you thought, so come say hi!

#phanfic #phanfiction #phandom #phan #phandomficfest #bingo 2018

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nebulous-frog · 6 years ago

Text

The Path to Happiness Ch. 1/7

Summary: Phil, Prince of Stratalary, has an arranged marriage with Daniel, Prince of Iridacia. He doesn't think he'll have any feelings for the prince, that is, until he meets him.

Word Count: 30,000 overall

Genre: Fantasy AU, Arranged Marriage, Slow Burn, Fluff

Warnings: Some Swearing, Food Mentions

Author’s Note: This is my fic for the winter 2018 @phandomreversebang! Massive thank-you to my beta @yourfriendlyblogstalker for being fantastic and so supportive even with my procrastination and several postponements! Thank you also to @pasteldnp for listening to me worldbuild for like two months and then drawing a map of my creation for me, which can be found here The wonderful art for this fic can be found here -- UPDATE -- for my birthday, Juls made an amazing moodboard for this, go check it out!!

Rough pronunciation guide: Stratalary: STRAT-uh-larry Iridacia: ear-ih-DAY-shuh

Chapter 2 Masterlist

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

Phil had been expecting it all his life. In the last week alone, he’d been anticipating the order every time a servant entered his presence. Important meetings between kingdoms were happening, something to put an end to the tension and the conflict so everyone could finally exist in peace, and Phil doubted he’d escape the politics.

Expecting and anticipating were not the same thing as being prepared. Phil learned that quickly when the order came.

“Phil,” his brother said solemnly. He looked tired and worn down; Phil supposed that happened when you were king. “I’ve arranged for you to marry the prince of Iridacia.”

Here it goes, I guess, Phil thought with a sigh. He bowed. “As you will it,” he said stiffly to the floor. He straightened, but his eyes remained trained on the floor.

You had no right to imagine anything else. This is your duty, he tried to tell himself.

“Hey,” Martyn said softly. He took a step closer to Phil and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Phil looked up, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

Martyn smiled a small smile. “This is a good thing. It’s important for our kingdoms to show our cooperation now. It’ll bring peace and prosperity to both kingdoms.”

Peace and prosperity for everyone. That’s why you have to do this. It’s bigger than you.

Phil nodded, returning Martyn’s smile. “I know.”

Martyn’s hand slid around until he wrapped Phil in a tight hug. Phil reciprocated, burying his nose in Martyn’s neck.

“I’m sorry it has to be you. I know it’ll be hard, especially at first, and it’ll all be weird and foreign and new, but I think, one day, you’ll be happy,” Martyn murmured, trying to be as reassuring as possible. His hand rubbed soft circles on Phil’s back.

It wasn’t often that Phil got to see his brother Martyn as opposed to King Martyn, but he was grateful to his brother for understanding what he needed at that moment.

“I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” Phil said quietly. He pulled back from the hug and put on a brave face and a smile. As much as he appreciated Martyn’s comforts, he knew that if he wasn’t careful with how he showed his feelings then Martyn was likely to call the whole thing off, and that would be much worse than marrying a foreign future king. “I’ll be alright. It’s all in the name of peace and prosperity.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After Phil left his brother to attend to his other kingly duties, he wandered a while, lost in thought. If he’d been back in his family’s palace in Cirrus, he’d have made his way to a quiet corner of the library to sit and think. But Martyn had insisted that Phil come to the negotiations with their rival kingdom, so he was forced to wander unknown territory.

The two kingdoms, Stratalary and Iridacia, had agreed to meet on neutral grounds in Fractalis, their mutual neighbouring kingdom. Years ago, their forefathers had fought a terrible war over a small patch of land to the west of both their kingdoms. Now, after decades of a bitter armistice, the kingdom of clouds and the kingdom of flowers had finally agreed to set aside their differences and sign an official treaty of cooperation and friendship.

Phil was unbelievably proud of Martyn for accomplishing it. Other Stratalarian kings had tried, but none succeeded. This would be an amazing step towards a better, calmer world for all their subjects. If that meant he had to marry a man he’d never met, so be it. It was worth it.

Or at least, that was what Phil was trying to convince himself as he crunched through the icy snow outside the palace at Chrystite.

Marrying for love was always a hopeless dream, he reminded himself, stuffing his freezing hands into his pockets as he approached a high balcony. It was a good dream, but hopeless. And that’s fine. I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy. I just have to find the good, as ever.

He sighed as he stared out into the surrounding mountains. It was beautiful here. Snow and ice covered every inch of the landscape, making everything shimmer. He looked down off the edge of the balcony, admiring the way the mountain dropped off steeply to the ground below. It was frightening, but Phil couldn’t pull himself away. The light cast sharp shadows that made the ground look like a white and blue collection of geometric shapes.

Reaching inside himself, he willed a wispy cloud to form in the abyss, then watched it dance in the wind and sun before dissipating. He did this several more times, before finally creating a stronger cloud closer to him and making it snow. He caught the flakes in his palms and watched as they quickly melted.

When I’m in Iridacia, I’ll play with clouds and help to water their flowers. I’ll show them how pretty clouds can be, and they’ll show me their prettiest flowers. Even if I never love the prince, I’ll fall in love with the land.

~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding was to take place in a month, which meant rushed preparations and many, many meetings and appointments for Phil.

His suit needed to be fitted and modified, he needed to be taught about the culture he was marrying into, he needed to know the schedule of the wedding and reception and who he was supposed to talk to and who he was to avoid at all costs.

A week before the wedding, Martyn talked him through the politics of the situation as Phil put on his wedding attire for one last tailoring check.

“You will marry the prince, of course, and then there will be the wedding reception. You must speak with the royal families this time,” Martyn commanded.

Phil squawked indignantly, turning from fastening his shirt to look at Martyn. “Hey, I always speak with the royal families! Every ball we go to, I spend hours talking to them!”

Martyn fixed him with a look that said, You’re a terrible liar. You’re not getting out of this.

“You won’t have a choice, anyway. You’re not to leave your husband’s side except for your dance with Mum and his dance with his mum, and he’s really going to speak with all the royals.” Martyn lifted his book of notes and instructions on the wedding, checking the contents and pretending not to notice Phil’s groan and pout.

Phil huffed when he realized Martyn wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, then turned back to the mirror to continue dressing.

“Ah, yes, speaking of the dancing,” Martyn continued, “you will not be allowed to dance with anyone other than the prince or Mum all night. It’s apparently an Iridacian custom for the newlyweds to dance the night away with only each other as a sign of your devotion to your relationship.” He looked Phil in the eyes through the mirror. “That means that even when old Aunt Madelyne comes around expecting a dance, you have to turn her down, understand?”

Phil’s eyes widened. “How in the world am I supposed to do that? She’s so persistent!”

Martyn shrugged. “I’ll have someone warn the Iridacians so they know to look out for her. With some help, you and the prince can steer clear of her.”

Remembering past family celebrations, Phil grinned. “If we stay away from her, she won’t have the chance to tell me all about her cats’ genealogy for the millionth time!” His grin turned smug. “But you’ll still have to listen to her. I bet Mum will make you dance with her twice to make up for missing me.”

Martyn paled. “Oh, god.”

Phil cackled as he straightened his sleeves. His laughter died away in a sigh as he saw Martyn raise the notebook again through the mirror. “What else do I need to know?”

“Well, at the end of the reception, we will be signing the treaty. I will give a short speech about the honour this treaty will bring to Stratalary, then the current king of Iridacia will give a speech on his relief that the matter is finally being put to rest, then their prince will give a speech about his excitement for his future with you and his kingdom.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. Maybe a bit boring, but nothing too intense,” Phil commented casually. He reached for the cape hanging off the back of a nearby chair but paused when he saw Martyn’s face in the mirror again. “What?” he asked nervously. “You’ve got that face you make when you have to say something but don’t want to say it. What’s wrong?”

Martyn hesitated, his face scrunched up in discomfort. “It’s- it’s just what comes after the reception that you won’t like. I don’t know that it will be bad, but it’ll be…” he trailed off and refused to look at Phil, instead choosing to fiddle with his notebook.

Phil set down the cape and turned to face Martyn fully. “Martyn. Just tell me. I’ll have to know eventually anyway,” he reasoned. He tried not to look as freaked out as he felt. If Martyn was this uncomfortable even telling Phil what it was, then how would Phil feel when he actually had to do whatever it was?

His brother let out a long sigh, then finally made eye contact with Phil. His expression melted from the concerned brother and into the responsible king. “After the reception, you and the prince will travel to the palace at Perennis, where you’ll be living from then on. It’s expected that you two will-” some of Martyn’s facade cracked, letting Phil see an awkward, apologetic expression, “- will consummate the marriage,” he finished.

Phil spluttered. “Excuse me?” he squeaked. So far, he hadn’t complained about any of it. Not the marriage, or the ceremony, or how he’d be sent away from friends and family. Martyn had enough to handle as it was and he didn’t need to feel guilty about taking control of Phil’s life. But this time he couldn’t restrain himself, letting his worry spill out of his mouth in a rush. “Consummate the marriage? I don’t even know the prince! Why is this necessary? It’s not like people are gonna know if we do or-” Phil’s already-pale face got even paler. “There won’t be people watching, right?”

“Oh, god, no,” Martyn reassured quickly, hands held out in a placating gesture. “No one will be in the room but you and the prince, so technically no one but the two of you will actually know if you do it or not. It’s another Iridacian custom that they want you to follow, but that’s between you and the prince.”

Phil’s breath caught back up to him at that. “Thank god. I don't really have to sleep with him, then.” He nodded once, somewhat reassured, and picked up the cape again to try it on.

Martyn’s uncomfortable face came back. “Yeah, probably not.”

Freezing again, Phil slowly looked up from the cape. “What do you mean ‘probably’?” he asked tentatively.

“Technically, the prince has an absurd amount of control over you and could order you to?” Martyn said quickly, fidgeting with his notebook again. “Not that he will- from what I understand, he’s actually really nice and at least a little uncomfortable with this arrangement, too, so it’ll probably be fine-”

“How much control will he have?” Phil whispered.

Martyn cringed and hesitated. “He can’t- like- physically control you, or anything, those are just myths-”

Phil took a step towards him. “I know that,” he said softly. He was a little offended at the implication, if he was being honest with himself. It seemed like Martyn didn’t know him at all if he thought Phil would subscribe to the rumours and stereotypes flying around about the Iridacians. “Please, Martyn. Just tell me.”

Martyn sighed and ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking more exhausted than Phil had realized he could be. “You’ll be completely under the control of the prince and the king. They’ll have to formally approve of everything you do and everywhere you go outside of the castle.”

“So,” Phil started, inhaling deeply. He stared blankly down at the cape still in his hands. “What you’re saying is that I’ll essentially be a prisoner of the Iridacian royalty?”

Solemnly, Martyn nodded. “I’m sorry, Phil. I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Phil shrugged. Pull it back, Phil. You have to be strong for Martyn. He forced himself to give Martyn a small smile, then raised the cape and put it on. He turned to the mirror. “How does it look?” he asked, straightening out the fastenings and running his hands down the white suit jacket.

Martyn looked like he wanted to say more about the arrangement, but he held himself back. “You look amazing,” he said. He walked up behind Phil and looked at the two of them in the mirror.

“Thanks,” Phil replied quietly. He scanned himself in the mirror, taking in the full extent of his wedding clothes.

He wore a white suit with shimmering silver embroidery and light grey patches, almost like his suit was meant to camouflage him into a cloud. The cape was just barely long enough to drag on the floor. Phil crinkled his nose at the realization that he’d likely get dirt in the soft white tufts at the end of the train.

“You’re missing one piece,” Martyn commented. He held the veil headpiece in his hand. Phil hadn’t noticed him pick it up, but he watched as Martyn delicately arranged it on his head.

Despite his displeasure at his arranged marriage, Phil did have to admit that the aesthetics of the wedding would be perfect. He wore a white flower crown that draped into a light green veil that covered his face and extended to his elbows. Combined with the white suit and cape, Phil’s wedding clothes would be a symbol of the union of the cultures of the two kingdoms.

“I can almost hear the wedding bells now,” Phil mumbled.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

#phanfic #phandom reverse bang #fantasy #arranged marriage #fluff #the path to happiness

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myrecordcollections · 6 years ago

Photo

John Martyn

Inside Out

@ Mid 80s Germany Re-issue

*****

Of all the musicians who attempted to marry modern jazz/rock ideas with traditional British folk in the late '60s/early '70s, John Martyn was the most challenging and aggressive. He had others giving him a run for his money, sure -- Richard Thompson attacked the guitar with Sufi focus and clarity; Bert Jansch often employed a sharp, metallic edge in his work; and John Renbourn was capable of guitar maelstroms -- but when it came down to it, no one was as out-there as Martyn, as experimental in their approach, or as violent in their vocal delivery. Martyn could coo with the best of them, but he seemed more at home howling, growling, and slurring his lyrics over wildly distorted -- and Echoplex-laden -- guitar work. And while his early work with wife Beverly often rocked gently like American contemporaries The Byrds or national kin Fairport Convention, his solo albums, starting with 1968’s London Conversation, found him blending American blues, jazz, and world music to startling effect. 1970’s Stormbringer! introduced the Echoplex to his sound, and by 1973’s Solid Air and Inside Out, it had defined it; both albums bare little resemblance to what was going on in contemporary music, let alone folk at that time. But while Solid Air maintained significant footing in folk standards, Inside Out did not. This is Martyn cut loose: long stretches of distorted jazz punctuated by funky drum kit work, Danny Thompson’s slippery, singing double-bass, washes of saxophone, and Steve Winwood’s deft synthesizer coloring.

“It felt natural,” Martyn can be heard saying amidst studio clatter as the album starts, and it’s easy to see why the statement was included on the final recording. For all of Inside Out’s excursions and risks, the record does indeed feel “natural” -- a noted influence of the Coltranes (John and Alice) and their saxophonist Pharoah Sanders. Martyn confessed: “The only reason I bought the Echoplex was to try and imitate Sanders’ sustain on my guitar... I pursued the fuzz box and its various accompanying things just to try and get the sustain that you can get from a sax.”

Subsequently, Inside Out embraces multicultural dialog, with American, British, and African ideas all given equal footing. One of two songs not written by Martyn, “Eibhli Ghail chiuin ni Chearbhall” is the album’s most telling moment. A traditional folk melody is rendered nearly unrecognizable by the long passages of feedback and echo, bringing to mind the work of Brian Eno’s Here Come the Warm Jets. Considering the similarities, it’s not difficult to imagine Eno owning a copy of Inside Out. The second cover, "The Glory of Love," is one of the album’s sweetest moments, a poppy cut of bouncy bass and plucked blues guitar, with Martyn’s worn-in voice sounding genuine and tender.

Martyn’s originals are equally telling of his headspace at the time. Opener “Fine Lines” extols the virtues of friendship, noting the kinship Martyn felt with his collaborators, particularly Thompson, who was one of the few musicians able to keep up with his notorious drug and alcohol consumption. “Make No Mistake” makes explicit reference to said hard-living: "If I can’t be a happy man/ I won’t be one at all/ To be dead drunk on the floor/ To get up and ask for more/ If I can’t get everything I want/ I’ll just get what I can." Maryn’s reputation is legendary; the man was a brawler, prone to exploding, drink-fueled rage, and the music makes no attempt hide this. His voice is most easily recognizable as a punk rock attribute, but his guitar playing is just as defiant. On the largely instrumental “Outside In,” his playing veers from restrained to free-jazz explosive, and “Look In,” buoyed by a tribal, shifting groove, features a bevy of effects pedals, including his signature Echoplex augmented with wah-wah and fuzzed, bluesy leads.

And while Martyn’s work is often defined by its baiting stance, Inside Out is a testament to the struggle between his sneering idiosyncrasies and his desire to create truly transcendent music. “Beverly,” named for his wife, is a gorgeous instrumental, showcasing passion and grace while still incorporating the album's psychedelic touchstones. “Ways to Cry” is similarly unguarded; recalling the pastoral calm of Maryn’s friend Nick Drake, it blends the full band arrangements of Bryter Layter with the soft-focus acoustics of Pink Moon. "If I ever took another one/ I was crying for you," Martyn sings with guilty honesty. “So Much In Love With You” further states the album’s overarching message: “The concept of love is what Inside Out is all about,” Martyn said, and he sings "‘Cause I’m so much in love with you baby/ I just can’t seem to see it clear." The tension between being who you believe you should be and being who you are is ultimately what makes for such a compelling listen. Where previous album’s precariously balanced traditional forms with more experimental ones, the thrust of Inside Out is a personal balancing; the songs are fully out-there, but the spiritual tug of war is still very much occurring.

Martyn’s future work would find him performing with Eric Clapton, Phil Collins, David Gilmour, and Lee “Scratch” Perry while exploring and integrating elements of electronica, reggae, and pop into his music. It’s debatable how listenable later albums like Glorious Fool are, but with an early canon containing so many undeniable gems, Martyn’s legacy is secured as one of the most electrifying, bizarrely singular artists of any genre. He passed away earlier this year, and Inside Out is certainly one of the best ways to remember and honor him. It is a contrarian, deeply personal album, featuring many of his most jaw-dropping songs.

Jason

#John Martyn #Inside Out #Folk #Jazz #Pop #Rock #singer-songwriter

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allthephils · 6 years ago

Text

Repose

Chapter 16

Read on AO3

Rated M (adult themes, keeping beauty au) word count: 3014/ 45,687

“Phil.” Louise had a hand on Phil’s shoulder. He looked up from his phone to see the lone guard had turned and was walking directly toward him. Before he had a chance to think, there was a firm grip on his upper arm. His phone was pulled out of his hand and Dennis pulled the metal grate aside. Two additional guards had come out of nowhere and they now flanked the gate.

“Mr. Lester, I’ll need you to come with me. I’d prefer we do this quietly and without incident but that is entirely up to you.”

Phil looked to Louise and back to the guard. He nodded his understanding and Louise watched as he was led through the gate and around the corner.

“Where are we going?” Phil and the guard weaved their way through the halls. He had no idea where he was or how to find his way out.

The guard did not slow his pace. “Your presence has been requested by members of the family.”

“Requested? That sounds like I have a choice. Do I have a choice?”

The guard did not respond but advanced quickly to a set of double doors, swiping his badge, and holding one side open for Phil to enter. The room looked just like the one Phil had met Prince Walter in, opulent but practical. Someone sat on the sofa alone, it was Adrian.

Phil rushed forward, glad to see him, but Adrian didn’t look up. Pulling a chair away from the wall, Phil sat down in front of Adrian.

“Hey, are you ok?” Phil asked, putting a hand to Adrian's shoulder but quickly pulling it back again. Tension hung between them but whether it was fear, anger, or something else entirely, Phil couldn’t tell.

After what seem like ages, Adrian spoke up. “What did you do, Phil?”

“Adrian, I…”

Adrian held up a finger, silencing Phil, just like Phil had seen Walter do to him. The thought of Adrian taking after his father, stuck here without Dan’s balancing influence, left a sour taste in Phil’s mouth. He waited for Adrian to speak, aware as always of how much was at stake for the young man in front of him.

“So, you won’t kiss him, but you’ll out him? To millions of people. Without his consent. Is that right, Phil?” Adrian finally looked Phil in the eye. “Did you think about how that might put him in danger, put you in danger? And what about us? What about me, Phil? And my mother?”

“Adrian, I’m sorry.” Phil did his best to sound composed, like he wasn’t in a complete and utter panic. “I wasn’t given any notice, I was just left, shut out. I have no way to contact any of you, no way of knowing if he’s ok.” Phil’s composure began to crack. “ I had to do something so I used the only tool I have. Dennis looks so worried. He won’t look me in the eye. God, Adrian, I wasn’t thinking of you, any of you, or England or me or anything but Dan and if he’s even fucking alive.” Phil let his head drop into his hands. He felt a hand grip his arm, and then Adrian was wrapped around him, crying into Phil’s shoulder. Phil sat up and pulled him in for a proper hug.

“Adrian, listen to me. I’m really sorry I didn’t consider you in all this but you must know that Dan was only closeted because of your father. He talked about coming out all the time. I know that was years ago, maybe I had no right, but here we are.”

Adrian pulled back. He looked so young now that his guard was down, tear stained and clearly terrified of what’s to come. “He did come out.” He said.

“What? What are you talking about?” Phil asked, confused.

“That Christmas, the year you guys met. He told me first, I had my suspicions, but he told me officially. He told me all about you and how much you meant to him. He told me I’d be a great king and that he’d always be here for me. He was scared but he was so happy, Phil. He loved you, loves you, so much.”

“I don’t understand. That’s, that’s when I lost him. He left me, Adrian.”

“It’s my fault.” Adrian’s voice was clear, resolved.

“What’s your fault?” Phil asked.

“All of it.” Adrian shook his head and tucked his feet under him. “Jesus, Phil, I was so jealous. I couldn’t just be happy for him.”

“Adrian, you were a kid.”

“You should have seen him. He stood up at the table, like he had a toast to give. It was the night before Christmas Eve. Iris was there and my Aunts, a cousin. I could never do anything like that.”

Phil didn’t know how to process this, he had no idea. “Iris was there?”

“Yeah, he must have told her already because she just sipped her wine and kept her head down.” Adrian continued. “But my father, he lost it. He went on and on about how he’s ruining Iris’ life, like she has no value outside of marrying royal. He talked about her family, her sex life. Right in front of her, in front of everyone. The things he said, Phil, it was awful. She wasn’t having it, she stood up for Dan, for herself, said she’d be just fine. Basically told Walter to fuck off. I think Dan was ready to be attacked but he hadn’t expected dad to go after Iris like that.”

“Adrian, why didn’t Dan tell me any of this?”

“I don’t know Phil, he was really shaken. And it just got worse. Dad started threatening you, saying he knows who you are, where you’re from, your family. He could ruin you, Phil. He could spin this whole thing to look like you’re some kind of stalker, or worse.”

“He threatened my family?” Fear and anger buzzed in Phil’s mind. He couldn’t go back now. He couldn’t undo what he’d done and he wasn’t sure he wanted to but he’d never considered the possibility that Dan left him to protect him. It was out there now, in the open. He had gotten ahead of Walter without realizing how crucial that step might be. He wanted to call his mum, to explain, to warn her. His family had to have seen the story. They must be so worried. All the thinking he hadn’t done rushed over him in a wave of potential implications and consequences. “Of course he did, and of course Dan retreated. He knows what your father is capable of.”

“That wasn’t it, Phil. That was just the beginning and Dan held his ground. Nothing angers my father more than challenging his authority. Dan stood up to him, he threatened to go over his head.”

“To the queen.”

Adrian nodded. “My father does not like to be reminded who is really in power. He was quiet all Christmas Eve, right up to midnight mass, but then it started. When were all heading back to our rooms. He laid into me, berated me. He had us stay behind while mum and grandma went off to bed. He pushed me to the ground, told me I was nothing, that I’d always be nothing.” Adrian’s chewed on the cuff of his jumper, his eyes shone wet as he spoke through shaky breaths. “He said if I was going to be king, he’d have to mold me into someone who could carry on his legacy. He said I’m weak, he promised to break me.”

“My god, Adrian.” Phil didn’t know what to say. He knew Walter could come in at any moment.

“Dan finally got between us. He helped me up and walked me to my room. He slept on my floor that night and every night for weeks. He didn’t leave my side except when he…”

“When he came to see me.” Phil said, suddenly aware of the heartbreak that he had lived with then, and the shadow it left behind, dull and dusty, but always there. He dropped his head and let it all sink in.

_______________________________________________________

The door slammed behind Phil as he rushed in out of the cold. He’d been exploring with Martyn and Cornelia but decided to take the third wheel out of the equation. Watching his brother and the love of his life walk hand in hand in the snow was beautiful but just a little too much. He threw off his gloves and scarf and hung his coat on a hook, then scurried to sit right in front of the roaring fire. Holding up his phone, he looked straight into the camera, love on his mind, hoping it would come through his eyes in the photo. He’d already sent Dan a photo of his breakfast and a shot of the snow angel he made. He hadn’t heard back but he understood why. He hit send on the selfie and wiggled back toward the fire, thawing out his frozen bum. Just a little more time in front of the fire alone, a little more time to just imagine his future with Dan. Soon, his mum would want help in the kitchen or his dad would start in with his stories, and there was wrapping to do. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve.

His mind wandered to New Year’s kisses and all the favors he could ask Dan for on his birthday. He dreamt of their first Valentine’s day and Easter garden parties at Buckingham Palace. That last one gave him pause but before he could think too deeply, his back pocket vibrated.

Dan: Your nose is all red. I wish I was there to keep you warm.

Phil: I wish you were here too. This fire can’t compare.

Dan: You’re so pretty, Lester.

Phil: You’re the pretty one, can I see?

Dan: I’m not really supposed to do that.

Phil: I know. But since when do you follow the rules?

Dan: Good point.

A few seconds passed and Phil tapped the small photo that arrived. Dan’s face filled his screen. He was lying on a pillow and had held the phone up above him so Phil could just see his face and neck. His eyes were narrowed, head tipped back, and his bottom lip was between his teeth.

Phil: Woof.

Dan: LOLCI

Phil: ??

Dan: Laughing out loud, crying inside

Phil: :( me too

Another photo came though. Dan was in the same spot but he wore a genuine, gentle smile and his brown eyes twinkled like they did when Phil laughed at one of his jokes.

Phil: You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Dan: Stop. My heart hurts. I miss you so much.

Phil: I only speak the truth.

Dan: I have to go dress for dinner.

Phil: Ok. Text me later?

Dan: The moment I escape. I love you.

He didn’t text later. Phil had wrapped all his gifts and dried the dishes that his mum had washed. His dad had fallen asleep in his recliner and Martyn and Cornelia had long since disappeared up the stairs. Catherine sat by the fire with a cup of tea, finally relaxing after a day of festive preparations. She smiled at Phil as he leaned in for a goodnight kiss to the cheek. Phil hurried upstairs and to his room, stopping in to brush his teeth. He pulled off his clothes and slipped on flannel pajamas, then crawled into bed. Phil had no idea how late these multi course royal dinners went. It was only 11, maybe Dan hadn’t gone to bed yet. He knew this could happen. He was lucky to connect with Dan at all when he was with his family. Still though, it was lonely not having that small reminder that Dan was thinking of him. He stayed up as long as he could but it had been a long day and sleep finally won out.

Everyone was already around the kitchen table when Phil stumbled in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His dad was dishing out huge portions of food; eggs, sausages, beans, the works. Fresh scones steamed on the table alongside clotted cream and lemon curd. This should be heaven for Phil. He sat and poked at the food on his plate, pushing his eggs from side to side. His phone sat silent where he had set it, and he watched it do nothing as he sipped his coffee. The whole family was quiet in the face of Phil’s conspicuous lack of appetite. Before they could ask what was wrong, he pushed back from the table, grabbed his phone and headed back toward the stairs.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m gonna go back to bed for a little bit.” He said to no one in particular as he made his way up the stairs.

He typed out a message for Dan, Happy Christmas Eve. Curling up on his bed, he told himself he’d have to get used to this and hit send.

A knock on his door woke him up. He hadn’t actually intended to fall asleep and disorientation had him wondering what day it was.

“Come in.” Phil sat up and rubbed his eyes, then replaced his glasses and looked up at Cornelia.

“Hey you, feeling any better? Lester Christmas Eve can’t get started without you.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry. What time is it?”

“Only noon. It’s all good. Come down though, we are about make a snowman.” Cornelia had sat down on Phil’s bed and placed a hand on his knee. She looked at him with so much understanding and love, he almost told her everything right then and there. Fortunately, his phone lit up and distracted them both.

“You’re blowin’ up.” Cornelia said, winking. “See you in a few.”

The phone screen was filled with notifications, 6 texts from Dan. Phil breathed a sigh of relief and read.

Dan: I’m sorry I couldn’t get away last night.

Dan: I wish I was there with your family instead of here with mine

Dan: I wish I was there with you

Dan: Sure is chilly in this castle

Dan: Please don’t be mad.

Dan: I really need to hear your voice.

Phil tapped Dan’s photo and hit call. Dan answered with a very quiet hello.

“I’m not mad. I was just worried and I miss you. I wish you were here too. I can’t really chat though, I have to go make a snowman with my family.”

“That sounds so nice.” Dan sounded far away, because he was talking from his bed in his cavernous room with the vaulted ceiling, but also because he spoke in a low near whisper, hesitating before every thought. “My family are currently all in separate rooms, silently disliking each other. Phil, you know I love you right?”

“Of course, I do. You never let me forget.” Phil said, though the question was odd.

“I’d do anything for you, Phil. You are the best thing in my life.”

“You’re the best thing in my life too. Dan, is something wrong?”

There was silence on the line for a bit. Phil knew Dan was still there, he could hear him breathing and he thought he wouldn’t mind listening to that sweet sound a while longer.

“But I’m not.” Dan finally said.

“You’re not what?”

“The best thing in your life. You have a wonderful family who love and accept you. You have real true friends. You have a life that you chose, that you built.” Dan spoke with conviction, presenting his case. “You were fine before you met me and you’d be fine without me.”

“Without you?” Phil spoke up. “I wouldn’t. Not now that I have you.”

Dan talked right over him, “You’re kind and strong and just good and I’m chaos.”

“Dan, you're scaring me a little. Please tell me what’s going on.”

Dan laughed a little under his breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I have to sit around this huge table again tonight, too big to have a conversation with anyone but the person next to me. I’ll be served in abject silence by wonderful people I have known since I was a baby. My parents won’t even speak except to pray thanks for the meal. This place makes me emo, I guess.”

“Can we talk later? After my family stuff is done. Like 10 or 11 maybe?”

Dan sighs, “We have late supper and then midnight mass.”

“Oh.”

“It’s ok, go make snowmen. Have the best time ever for both of us.” Dan’s trying to sound like he’s ok now, but Phil can hear worry and melancholy.

“Ok, babe. Happy Christmas.”

Bouts of sadness and frustration aren’t a new thing from Dan and Phil isn’t surprised that being with his family would bring that out. Still, he wants to hold Dan and make him feel safe and loved. He wants to make him forget everything that isn’t the two of them, drown out all the voices that say what they have isn’t ok, pretend they aren’t a secret.

Christmas Eve was always cakes and snowmen and movies and opening one gift before bed. Soon, Phil was immersed in traditions and family and any worry slipped to background. His gift was a handmade sweater from his aunt. He loved it and vowed to wear it fo Christmas Day. There was talk of Dan. Everyone wanted to hear how they met, how it was going. He could mostly tell the truth. They met in the bakery, they went to a party for their first date and hung out by the food, Phil got too drunk and Dan tucked him in. He told them all about candlelight pizza dinners and galaxy cakes and breakfast in bed.

“You sound perfect for eachother.” Catherine had said, pulling Phil in to kiss his head. Then, “Maybe we can all be together on your birthday.”

He smiled and nodded, allowing himself the fantasy, just for now, just for Christmas.

#phanfic #phanfiction #wip #sleeping beauty au

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adorkablephil · 6 years ago

Text

Fic: Hide Not Your Face 7

Title: Hide Not Your Face Summary: Chemistry grad student Phil Lester wants to make the world a better place, but a strange creature named Dan appears when Phil tests a potion intended to get rid of negative emotions. Rating: Teen (for a bit of language) Word Count: 3.5k (this chapter) Tags: Phandom Reverse Bang, Scientist AU, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Magical Realism, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Angst, Angst with A Happy Ending Author’s Note: My posting schedule has flown out the window & I’m just posting when I can. Many thanks again to the wonderful @ribenaflip, who came up with the initial story idea in the @phandomreversebang, and whose beautiful art (which you can see HERE) accompanies a scene which spans both the previous chapter and this one. Also thanks to @jorzuela for the informal beta reading. :) Also available on AO3 here

[ Chapter Masterlist ]

Chapter 7: Reflection

When he’d found Dan apparently catatonic in front of the apartment building, it had nearly frightened Phil to death. He’d eventually persuaded Dan to come inside, but in the flat he still seemed blank and unresponsive. He’d been gone for hours! Had something happened to him out there?

“Dan?” he asked gently. “Dan, tell me what’s wrong.”

And suddenly, out of nowhere, Dan seemed to just explode in waves of rage and pain, ranting and shouting … and gesturing to Phil’s experiment notes, which had fallen all over the floor. Phil blanched, realizing what Dan had seen and then imagining how he must have felt. Horror rushed through Phil—horror and guilt. He didn’t know what to say, knew there was nothing he could say to defend his actions, but he had to try. “Dan…” he began, but Dan wasn’t listening, continuing to rage against the injustice of what had been done to him.

And Phil had been the one to commit that injustice. It was only right that Dan berate him like this, that he rage against something so wrong. The stained glass avenging angel behind Dan as he shouted seemed to glare at Phil with grave disapproval. This was so much worse than anything he’d ever done to disappoint his parents. He had done something truly wrong, something ugly, when all he’d wanted was to bring more happiness to the world. Instead, he had… Overwhelmed with emotion, Phil sank slowly down until he was sitting on the floor, dazed with shame and the undeniable knowledge that nothing he did could ever make this right.

Suddenly a mug shattered against the far wall, making Phil flinch. He looked up at Dan, who yelled, “You did this to me!” as he paced the room like a caged beast. But in his heart Phil knew that Dan wasn’t a beast, wasn’t a “creature” … he was a man. Maybe even a friend. He was Dan.

And Dan was completely and totally right: Phil had done this to him. Phil let his head hang and tears sprang to his eyes. He’d seen Dan cry so often since that first morning, but this was the first time that Phil was the one to weep.

“And fuck! I actually thought I loved you!” Dan cried out, and Phil’s head jerked up. He could hear the agony in Dan’s voice as he wailed, “I thought I loved you!” Love? Dan … loved him? Phil’s mind reeled. He’d noticed the gentleness, the kindness, the empathy that had been growing in Dan. The way he’d stood up for Martyn, for example—the fierce caring he’d shown in support of Phil’s little brother. But love?

Dan … loved him?

It wasn’t that Phil considered him incapable … he just felt stunned by the sudden proclamation. One minute Dan was railing as if Phil was the devil himself, and now he said that he loved him?

An image, a feeling flashed through him. Dan’s warm body held tight in his arms in the soft bed, Dan’s hands holding Phil’s hands against his chest as his breathing slowed and they both drifted together into asleep. The moment had been precious.

But was that love?

“Do you think I WANT to feel all this … this hurt and this anger and this … all these terrible, horrible feelings?” Dan screamed, forcing Phil to look at him again through eyes blurred with tears that now wet not only his cheeks, tears that had streamed all the way down to soak the neck of his t-shirt. Dan elaborated, “All these feelings you decided to get rid of? You DID this to me! You fucking CREATED me! And look at the life I’m stuck with now … because of YOU!” Dan picked up the paperweight from Phil’s lab table and threw it, smashing the stained glass window, the avenging angel, so that a bit of undiluted, untinted sunlight shone through. Phil couldn’t help feeling that it was an apt metaphor. Dan shone true light on the situation, unfiltered through Phil’s plans and hopes and dreams. Dan showed Phil what he had truly done, and Phil felt only shame and horror at the pain of it. At Dan’s pain.

And then Dan’s rage seem to suddenly abandon him, and he dropped to the floor with his face in his hands.

Phil had predicated his experiment on the idea that life would be better without negative emotions, but he now saw that those emotions weren’t “negative” at all. Dan had been making that clear for days, but now it was painfully obvious, because Dan was right to be angry with Phil! Phil deserved everything Dan had said, and more, and he only wished someone had talked sense into him sooner. Perhaps then he never would have performed such a reckless, misguided experiment.

But if he hadn’t … would Dan not be here?

Dan now sobbed quietly into his hands, seeming completely oblivious to Phil’s continued presence. They both sat on the floor now, only a few feet apart, so Phil hesitantly crawled a bit closer to Dan. Would Dan allow it? Or would his rage flare again?

“Dan?” Phil hazarded. “Dan, you’re right. This is my fault. It’s all my fault. You have every right to be angry at me, even to hate me.”

Dan didn’t lift his face from his his hands, but at least he didn’t flee or leap to his feet in fury. His voice was so soft Phil had to strain to hear him, and so crept a bit closer. It sounded like Dan was saying something about … buses? But that couldn’t be right. Phil scooted even closer so that now his knee almost touched Dan’s, but Dan still had not looked up. He just continued to murmur a stream of quiet words, his face hidden in his trembling hands. “…just went blank,” Phil heard, and no emotion showed in Dan’s words now. “The buses run so fast, and I watched them, and I could just step into the road, but I don’t have to step into the road, because I can just go blank, inside my head, just stop, just disappear, and I would be gone, and I could take all the anger and the pain, and you’d be rid of me, rid of all those things you didn’t want, and then everything can be wonderful for you, you can have what you wanted, all sunshine and rainbows and fucking unicorns.” Dan sniffled and wiped at his face absently, as if confused about why his face was wet, as he no longer seemed to be upset, no longer showed any emotion at all, which scared Phil far more than the flying crockery and paperweights had done.

Finally, Dan glanced up and saw Phil sitting on the floor beside him. “But the bus would be okay, too,” he said in a flat, monotone voice. His brown eyes looked empty. “I could step in front of a bus, if I can’t just go into my head and disappear. And then you’ll have everything you want. And get rid of everything you don’t want.” Dan shrugged, face impassive with only perhaps the slightest trace of pain. “I don’t mind stepping in front of a bus for you if I have to.” And then he smiled, but the desolate smile made Phil want to vomit, made him want to throw himself in front of a bus for doing this to any other creature on earth.

Phil had wanted to be a good person—the entire purpose of his experiment—and here he saw the result. A beautiful, gentle, loving man … willing to die so Phil could live without all those feelings he’d found so inconvenient. Phil lunged, pulling Dan into his arms, but Dan held himself stiffly at first, only slowly melting into Phil’s embrace, eventually allowing his forehead to fall forward to rest on Phil’s shoulder.

“I don’t want you to go,” Phil whispered. “Please don’t.” Dan just shook his head without lifting it. “It isn’t all bad, not all pain and anger. Right? Some of it’s good.” No response from Dan, but he still rested quiescent in Phil’s arms, breaths hitching slightly. “Let me … let me show you? Don’t go, and just give me one day, okay? One day to show you that it isn’t all hurt. That you can have more than that. You can have happiness, too. I want that for you.” Still nothing. Phil dared to stroke a hand very lightly along Dan’s hair. “Give me a chance?” he asked. And finally Dan gave just the slightest nod. Phil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and hugged Dan a little tighter for a moment.

***

Phil found it difficult to persuade Dan to leave the flat with him. Apparently he’d only previously left the flat when forced, either by Phil or by panicked emotion. When calm, he insisted he would prefer to return to the corner of Phil’s bedroom. Or, he hazarded to suggest, as if it would be some great favor, they could play a video game together.

But Phil insisted that he wanted to take Dan out, wanted to show him the good things in the world, wanted to make him happy. Dan’s face looked extremely dubious.

“At least let me take you to buy a proper pair of shoes,” Phil begged. “I know those ones don’t fit you properly.”

Dan glanced at the shoes, then longingly at the door, then into Phil’s eyes. “What will happen to these shoes?”

Phil grimaced. Dan’s shoes looked a fright, old and worn and obviously ready for the bin. “We’ll just throw them out. Don’t worry about that.”

But Dan shook his head vigorously. “No! We can’t throw them out! People gave them to me, they were donated, and nice people gave them to me.” His voice faded until it was nearly a whisper. “I never even said thank you. They were so kind, giving me a coat and shoes, and I didn’t even thank them.”

Seeing an opportunity to persuade Dan to go out, Phil suggested, “We could take the shoes back to where you got them? So someone else who needs them will have a pair of shoes to wear?”

Dan nodded immediately and went to put on his coat—also much the worse for wear, but Phil knew to pick his battles and doubted he had enough money to buy Dan both a coat and shoes anyway—and moved toward the door. “Maybe Henry will be there,” Dan said wistfully.

Phil put on his own coat and they walked through the door together. Phil locked it behind them, asking Dan, “Who’s Henry?”

“He was kind to me,” Dan explained. “And I … I didn’t thank him, either. I treated him badly, but he stayed kind. I would really like to see him again, to thank him and let him know how much he helped me when I was so alone and lost.”

Guilt rushed through Phil again as he remembered forcing Dan out of the apartment that first morning, imagining Dan’s fear and confusion. “Let’s try to find Henry,” Phil agreed. “But first let’s buy you some new shoes so that you can donate these back where you got them, okay?”

***

When they got to the shopping centre, Phil insisted that he wanted to buy Dan a proper pair of shoes. A pair that not only fit, but that Dan liked, that made Dan happy. Dan had grown increasingly uncomfortable since they left the flat, and he now seemed terribly embarrassed, insisting that this wasn’t necessary, but Phil took his arm and bodily dragged him into a shoe store, where he encouraged Dan to look at the shoes and choose a pair he liked.

Dan refused to choose anything, but Phil noticed his eyes returning to a pair of leather sneakers more than once, and so Phil asked a salesperson to fetch a pair in Dan’s size. They measured Dan’s feet and left for the store room. While the salesperson was gone, Dan tugged on Phil’s shirt sleeve, saying desperately, “Phil. Phil. You don’t have to buy me anything. I don’t need them. It’s okay.”

Phil felt some mixture of emotions, looking at Dan in that moment. He felt some pity, surely, but he also felt sadness that Dan did not think himself worthy of such a small gift, and some gladness that he could provide Dan with something that he wanted, something that would make him more comfortable and perhaps even give him a bit of joy … if shoes could give someone joy.

The salesperson brought out the shoes and Dan hesitantly tried them on. They were styled like traditional black sneakers, but in leather with zips up the sides instead of laces in the front. Dan smiled, looking down at his feet, and Phil nearly clapped his hands with joy like a little kid, just seeing that expression on Dan’s face for the first time.

“Walk around in them,” Phil insisted. “See how they feel.”

Dan walked around the store, staring down at his feet with a look of wonder on his face. “We’ll take them,” Phil told the salesperson, and it was the happiest he’d ever felt from simply buying a pair of shoes. They were easily the most expensive pair of shoes he’d ever bought, but he didn’t care, because they put a light of wonder in Dan’s eyes, a light that Phil wanted to see every day. “And some pairs of black socks,” Phil added as Dan returned to his side.

“Socks, too?” Dan asked with disapproval, as if he couldn’t bear the largesse.

Phil put an arm around Dan and squeezed, smiling at him and saying, “You need good socks to wear with your shoes so you don’t get any more blisters.”

Dan just shook his head as if speechless the entire time Phil made the purchase and insisted that Dan take off the shoes just long enough to put on a pair of new socks beneath them. Then he insisted that Dan put the shoes back on and wear them out of the store.

They turned to walk along the pavement, and Dan said in a vague, stunned voice, “They have zips.”

Phil laughed and said, “They do. I’ve never seen trainers with zips before, but you found perhaps the only ones in existence. They look good on you.”

Dan glanced at him with wide eyes. “They do?”

Phil nodded firmly and replied, “They do.”

Dan gazed so fondly and fixedly at his new shoes as they walked that he occasionally bumped shoulders with passersby and once nearly walked into a street sign. Phil pulled him close by his side so that they walked arm-in-arm, guiding him so that he avoided any such collisions.

Some people on the street, especially older people, glanced at their entwined arms with disapproving eyes, and Dan began to shrink away, trying to pull his arm from Phil’s in obvious shame, but Phil would not let him go. “Who cares what anyone thinks?” he said firmly to Dan. “I don’t care, and you shouldn’t care either. We aren’t doing anything wrong, and if they want to be asses about it, that’s their problem.”

Dan looked at him again with those wide, amazed eyes. “You don’t care if they look at you like that?” Phil shook his head. “It doesn’t make you … I don’t know … embarrassed? Or angry?”

Phil shrugged. “I guess it makes me a little bit angry, because they’re closed-minded jerks, but I’m not going to let that ruin how nice it feels to walk with you.”

Dan frowned slightly. “So you can be angry at them, but happy at the same time?” Phil thought about it, and then nodded. Holding Dan close by his side as they walked felt lovely, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else’s judgmental stares take that away from him. Dan nodded uncertainly in response, and then slid his hand down to twine his fingers with Phil’s, and suddenly they were holding hands instead of just linking arms. It felt even better, and Phil turned to smile at Dan, who looked as if afraid of Phil’s reaction. Phil squeezed Dan’s fingers, and Dan gave him a hesitant look of such delight that Phil wished he himself had initiated the gesture.

They received even more disapproving looks accompanied by pointed glances at their hands, but also some smiles and nods from other people who apparently approved of the public gesture of affection. Dan ducked his head in embarrassment and Phil gave his hand a reassuring caress with his fingertips. Dan’s cheeks went a bit pink, and Phil held his hand more firmly. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to make Dan uncomfortable, but Dan just nodded with a bit of an awkward shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t want to make you nervous or…” but Dan simply squeezed Phil’s hand in answer and looked down at his feet again.

“I really like the shoes,” Dan said softly, so quietly that Phil almost didn’t hear him among the bustle of the crowd.

“I really like that you really like the shoes,” Phil said with a grin, and Dan chuckled.

***

Dan insisted that they go to the clothing donation centre next, because he wanted to give back the shoes they had given him, and he wanted to finally get a chance to thank them properly.

The staff at the donation centre didn’t remember him, but when he asked about Henry, the woman in charge smiled widely. “Oh, Henry is always bringing in strays.” Then she flushed and hurried to add, “I don’t mean you, of course!”

Phil watched Dan as he talked and smiled, thanking the woman for the shoes and for helping him when he needed it. “I’m sorry I behaved so badly before. Even if you don’t remember me, I remember that I … I was rather angry at the time and didn’t appreciate the kindness people were showing.”

The woman waved a hand and then patted Dan gently on the arm. “Lots of folks who come in here are a little angry at the world, but sometimes they’ve got good reasons. The world isn’t always easy, and not everyone is kind. It’s understandable that folk might take affront once in a while.”

Phil thought about that, and about Dan’s anger earlier. Then he thought about Martyn’s texts, and decided that he owed his brother a significant apology. Martyn had been justified in feeling abandoned, and he deserved more support from Phil than he’d gotten. Phil left Dan absorbed in conversation with the donation centre staff and patted him on the shoulder before stepping a few feet away to pull out his phone.

Phil: I’m sorry I was such a prat last weekend. You’re completely right.

Martyn: I just thought you’d stand up for me you know?

Phil: I know. And I will. I’m thinking about coming home again at the weekend to talk to mum and dad about the piano.

Martyn: you don’t have to do that

Phil: No, but I think I should. I want to make this right.

Martyn: i’m sorry i was such a twat

Martyn: you’re not so bad after all

Phil laughed, then tucked his phone back in his pocket and looked over at Dan talking excitedly, wearing his leather shoes with the zips that had made him so happy. Phil knew that a pair of shoes wasn’t enough.

Dan turned to look at him, and Phil tried to smile, but inside he felt like crying again, like he still sat on the floor of the flat with that avenging angel looking down on him. He watched Dan, and for the first time he noticed a dimple appear in his cheek as he smiled at the shelter staff. He’d never given Dan reason to smile enough for him to see that dimple—he’d only derided and debased Dan, treated him as less than human even before he knew anything about his origins.

Had he somehow accidentally created a person, only to treat him like rubbish? Was this what he’d meant when he said he wanted to be a good person? His heart ached with self-loathing, with pain for Dan lying curled on the floor in the corner all those nights, with grief for all the tears Dan had shed, with anger at himself for causing it all.

But then Dan turned and smiled at him, and Phil saw that Dan had dimples in both cheeks, and he felt his heart thump a little faster, a little harder in his chest. He found that he loved Dan’s smile, and he suddenly felt a rush of longing to make all of this right for him. But, after all he’d done to Dan, he knew nothing would ever be enough to make it right.

******

[ Continue to Final Chapter! ]

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