A sickly sleepover. (Phan)
“Oi get off that you twat!” Dan yelled, giggling slightly at his best friends attempt to rip the controller out of his grasp. “It’s not my fault you suck at mario cart!” He adds with a devious smile before shoving Phil a little too hard off the sofa, causing a loud, high pitched laughter to escape his mouth.
“Hey! I so do not suck!” Phil retaliated, pulling himself back up onto the sofa and grabbing a fistful of Doritos from the open bag. His blue eyes glinted with an unknown intention and his lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Besides, if I suck what does that make you, last time I checked I have the highest score overall” he said with defiance and feigned arrogance. Dan scoffs at that statement, making a wide sweeping hand gesture in Phil’s direction and laughing, his town eyes lighting up in a euphoric way.
Sleepovers at Phil’s house were the highlight of his week, and he didn’t let anyone’s distaste put him off his weekly heaven. Not caring how sleepovers were seen as ‘feminine’ and ignoring the raised eyebrows and smirks that arose when he mentioned he was staying over at Phil’s. And honestly how was this seen as a ‘girly’ activity anyway? He enjoyed it and that’s his main concern.
“Do you think we should be getting to sleep any time soon?” Phil suddenly speaks up, stifling a yawn and covering his mouth with his hands. Honestly he looked adorable when he did that, Dan couldn’t deny it.
“Um yeah sure,” Dan replied, scrambling over to the bed and retrieving his bag. “I’ll get changed in the bathroom yeah?”
Phil nods and walks over to his drawers before picking out some pyjamas. He also couldn’t deny the happiness and hope that was brought to him through his friendship with Dan.
vAfter 20 minutes of getting ready, giggling and mindless chatter the two boys began drifting off, memorable thoughts from the evening floating round their peaceful heads and happiness overtaking the both of them as they begin to dream.
However at roughly 3am, Dan jolts awake in a cold sweat. His whole body trembles erratically and he grips his sheets in a daze as he skims the room with his eyes, trying to distinguish the hazy shapes around him. In his delirious state, he actually took about 10 minutes to pinpoint exactly what it was that woke him from his peaceful slumber, but once he did - he couldn’t say he was happy.
It hurt. His whole body hurt. A dull ache contaminated what seemed like every limb in his body, shooting, sharp sensations exploding through his muscles as he tried to move them. His head was overrun with a lightheaded feeling, dizziness and disorientation causing his outlook of the world around him to be a blurry mixture of colours, shapes of the furniture being unrecognisable.
It was quite abrupt, the thought that struck him. The thought that made him widen his eyes in a sudden panic. He wasn’t at home he was at Phil’s house.
He wasn’t sure how this situation would be considered in someone else’s eyes, but for Dan this circumstance was one of absolute terror. He had never been one to admit his feelings to anybody, wether that be emotional or physical. He was a closed book and he preferred to keep it that way, he recoiled from attention, he felt weak when he felt he admitted he needed help, but the strange thing is - the main reason for his emotional confidentiality was nothing at all. Nothing.
He couldn’t really explain it, though he could think of no possible reason not to share his feelings, he was confined. As much as he wanted the words to come, they just wouldn’t. For no reason at all. It was odd, but it was another aspect of his personality - just as much as an existentialism.
A violent shiver propels it’s way through his body and his stomach lurches painfully, vomit rising in his throat - which he splutters on and swallows. The only thing worse than feeling ill at Phil’s house would be throwing up in his fucking bed. This was bad. Really bad.
Dan’s lower abdomen felt intense pressure and a stabbing sensation as he scrambled out of the bed.
“Oh shit” he gasps as bile once again rises in his throat, making it dry, sore and stinging.
“You alright Dan?” Phil mumbles from the bed, still half asleep.
Dan considers his reply a moment, he could right now tell Phil what was wrong and receive help, or he could lie and deal with it himself. And of course, like an idiot he went for the latter.
“Yep,” he responds, his voice slightly raspy and forced but Phil doesn’t seem to notice. “Just going to the bathroom a sec.”
He exits the room as fast as he can physically manage without arousing suspicion. His mind in a frantic panic as he staggers towards the bathroom, violently flicking the switch and closing the door swiftly. He collapses to the ground, panting with deep breaths he tried to regularise, to no effect. They got increasingly rapid as he prepared himself to throw up, his internal body organs seemingly squirming over each other in a fight for dominance. He grimaces, his face scrunching up as he cradles his stomach with his right hand, his left being used to hold himself up.
With a sudden surge of nausea he fills the toilet bowl with his stomach contents before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Disgusting” he groans, flushing the toilet and reaching for his toothbrush to rid his mouth of the sour, acidic taste. All he could think was the prospect that Phil could appear at any moment, and yes: His fears became a humiliating reality.
“Dan … Are you okay?” Phil asked from behind the door, Dan’s face growing hot and flushing an ugly crimson shade. His confinement of emotion was seemingly impossible, but as much as he desired comfort off somebody - he still found it embarrassing and awkward to admit and explain his own discomfort in any way.
“Yep.” He answered, before swirling more water around his mouth that was still contaminated with the unpleasant taste.
“Look if you don’t tell me whats wrong, I’ll go and get my mum.” Phil replied with a tone of slight defiance. And to this Dan was forced to admit defeat. Neither situation, confessing to Phil or his family, was desirable - but he was certain which one he preferred. He shakily staggered over to the door, clicking the lock slowly and creaking the door open a crack, the slither of light from the bathroom illuminating Phil’s pale, concerned face.
Both boys stood there for a moment, both waiting for the other to speak. It was not exactly a tension filled environment, just awkward. Dan was reluctant to speak up, and Phil - well he was just expectant.
“Well…” he prompted softly, his lips curling up into a sympathetic smile.
Dan fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, avoiding eye contact and flushing a dark pink colour. “I um … Kind of … got sick.” he mumbled, slightly stuttering and with an uneasy edge to his voice.
p>“Oh,” Phil began, shifting his eyes from Dan to the now-vacant bathroom. “Sick as in just ill … or like vomit?” he questioned warmly, his affectionate voice calming Dan down slightly.
“Well lets see I run out of your bedroom to the bathroom at 3am what do you think,” Dan muttered with a sarcastic manner in his voice, but feeling another jerking movement in his stomach; he gasps slightly. “Now, if you will excuse me, unless you want me to hydropump on your carpet I need to get back in here!” he chokes with some urgency before hurriedly returning to his position over the toilet. He groans, spitting slightly into the bowl, unaware Phil had followed him in. He jumps slightly when Phil’s hand rests on his back but in all he is okay with this contact. While he had a complex discomfort with admitting his weaknesses, he could not deny this comfort was nice. It was Phil after all.
Phil pulled Dan’s fringe away from his clammy forehead and draws simple patterns on Dan’s back with his fingers. He doesn’t say anything - he doesn’t have to. They sit in silence with the occasional gag from Dan who is now silently crying. Phil brushes away the tears and whispers soothingly towards him.
“Do you want to go home?” Phil asks concerned, and realistically I know this option would be the most logical to take. But I’m overwhelmed by exhaustion and my stomach pains have eased a bit.
“No, I just want to sleep.” he stammered uneasily, and Phil nodded helping him to his feet.
“You okay?” Phil smiled, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist. This was not a normal position for them to be in, but Dan didn’t care. It showed Phil was concerned, and he wouldn’t lie. He kind of liked it.
Once they returned to the bed, Phil didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, they both drifted into unconsciousness wrapped around each other, Phil wrapping Dan in a comforting hold and Dan clinging to Phil in attempt to distract himself from discomfort.
Dan felt warm, safe and secure in the arms of Phil, and it just felt right. He couldn’t explain it to any extent. But Daniel Howell, the boy who wouldn’t confess his emotions to anybody, somehow didn’t want to conceal himself away from Phil anymore. He just felt … trustworthy. He was lucky to have somebody like him in his life. In fact, Dan would go as far as to say he loved him. Previously it had always been a platonic love, but the way they were touching made Dan realise it may be something more. Phil had seen him at his worst, but stayed and helped take care of him. Dan appreciated that more than anything. Dan loved the way Phil cast aside his own needs for him, Dan loved how he was Phil’s immediate concern, but honestly? Dan just loved Phil.
And due to their compromising position … Dan was certain those feelings were replicated, and the conversation the next day would be an interesting one.
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