‘8 AM’ the too-bright digital numbers blared directly into Dan’s eyes. He rolled over, sweat-sticky sheets clasping onto his warm skin and contemplated throwing the stupid device. He placed a hand over his forehead and groaned audibly. Here marks four days of no sleep! Dan sarcastically thought to himself. By now, his usually straight hair had began curling wildly. He wasn’t trying out a new style, no, he was just too drained to leave his room, let alone spend an hour straightening his messy hair.
To be quite honest, this probably wasn’t the healthiest of lifestyles but what could he do? He’s just some sad kid trying to get by. Dan knows his insomnia isn’t helping whatever’s going on in his head but he just can’t bring himself to care. So what if I’ve stayed up for some 80 hours with a total of six hours of sleep? I’m not gonna die. It’s fine.
Though, it wasn’t exactly “fine” as Dan had convinced himself before. As he wasted away in his prison-like dorm for the fourth time in a row, he realized this was probably not the best course of action for him. He remembered what Phil, the love of his puny little life, had told him as Dan exited the Manchester flat. Stay hydrated! Well, mark that off. Dan’s mouth was drier than the Sahara at this point. Remember to eat! Nope, Dan actually had only eaten a little packet of crackers from beside within his little stay in his bed. Socialise! No hiding! Ha. Haha. Ha.
What Dan needed now was Phil. But Phil was 15 minutes away in an entirely different building. He couldn’t get up. For several reasons. One, he’d tried and he had literally blacked out. Secondly, he felt trapped as if his mattress held him in a death grip. Lastly, he’d have to call a cab and walk and move his arms and honestly that sounded more like climbing Mt. Everest than going to pay a lovely visit to his boyfriend. The best Dan could currently get was the occasional vibration from his phone, knowing that one (if not all) of the messages were from Phil. Phil. Phil asking if he’s okay, like always.
Mustering up all of his energy, Dan counted to three… five… okay, ten will do. Dan counted to ten, preparing his arm to reach over and snatch his phone from where it laid on the little stand beside him. It was silly if you really thought about it but Dan was pretty proud of himself. He held the phone close to his face, opening it up, and gazing at all of the texts he’d received. 10 messages from Phil, 6 missed calls. 2 messages from Mum.
Instinctively, Dan opened up the text messages from Phil. Most asking if he was okay, others being little quirky stories. The most recent one asking if Dan wanted to come round to Phils. For the first time in a solid week, he swore he felt a little spark of hope deep in his chest, somewhere. It was gone before he could relish in the feeling of something. He swore he was actually a bit hopeful. Unfortunately, that feeling had gone so quickly because his mind shut it down. Dan you fucking idiot! Going to Phils place requires movement and heaven forbid you move your uncooperative body. End of the bloody world, yeah. I bet.
Dan deleted his response of agreement to Phils invitation, dropping his phone back onto the nightstand beside him and throwing an arm over his face so that he was hidden in the crook of his elbow. A few involuntary tears slipped out of his eyes, breath hitching. He rolled onto his side and faced the white brick wall and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep. The fuckers shot back open though, emitting a sharp pain through his skull. A groan managed to die in his throat.
Dan laid practically lifeless in bed for what felt like minutes, though upon glancing at his clock, had actually been several hours. Time flies when you’re having fun. From then on, Dan had just focused his gaze on different things. He was wallowing in self pity just wishing he could do something, anything. Thanks to his mess of a brain, though, he could only roll around and occasionally sit up if he put all of his energy into it.
As evening rolled around Dan felt completely gone. He honestly felt as if he was just a body and a brain. Nothing else; no emotions, no will to do anything, no nothing. Just as he was about to attempt to sleep once more, probably to no avail, he heard his phone stream out vibrations, rumbling the wooden surface it was sat on. He rolled over to face away from the wall and stared at the light emitting from the screen and shining throughout his dark and murky room. Sitting up slowly and achingly, Dan reached his weak arm out and swiped his phone off the desk. Incoming call from Phil<3. On what was probably the final ring Dan tapped the small green circle, watching as the call connected the two before Phil’s voice flooded through the old speakers.
“Dan?” Phil called, worry heavily lacing his voice. Dan managed to respond with a little hum. “Hey… how are you?” He asked.
“I don’t know. Not great.” Dan admitted, his voice raspy from not talking for such an extended period. It could’ve gone a lot worse than just a rough voice considering he had managed to fight off a fit of coughs which surely would’ve drained him even more.
“Yeah? Why?” The boy on the other line questioned, sadness and guilt edging into his voice.
“Dunno.” Dan sighed out.
“Would you like to come ‘round to mine? Or I could come and get you from yours? We can play video games.” Phil dragged out the a of the last word, then taking Dan’s silence as a chance to bribe him with more options. “Or we could watch a movie. Or just lay on the couch or the bed or wherever you want, so long as it’s not on some hard surface that’ll mess up our backs.”
“I want to.” Dan replied in a quiet voice, barely audible to Phil. Phil formed his mouth around a word to cheer, and instead being interrupted by a loud scratching noise as Dan changed his phones location. “-but I don’t think I can.” He huffed out, voice wobbling a bit at the end.
“Why not?” The older questioned, obviously disappointed which just made Dan feel even worse.
“Can’t move.” Dan blankly stated.
“What? Are you hurt? Should I-”
“No, Phil. No.” Dan cut him off before Phil could panic. That was the last thing he needed happening.
“Oh.” Phil paused, racking his brain for anything else. “Tired?”
“Something like that.” Dan mumbled.
“Shall I come ‘round to yours then? We can stay there or we can go to my place. I don’t- I just really miss you.” Phil let out a weak laugh that sounded more like a huff.
“Maybe.” Dan responded, stomach growling loudly causing Dan to close his eyes and clench his teeth.
“Well it isn’t a no. I’ll be there in six seconds exactly. Love you!” Phil exclaimed gleefully before hanging up. Dan didn’t bother to turn off his phone. He rolled back over to face the wall, hoping that maybe Phil would be able to pull him out of this slump.
A knock on Dan’s door to the beat of the Super Mario theme, a low groan, and the turning of doorknob later, and Phil was in his room. There was silence throughout as Phil approached Dan’s weak form.
“Dan?” Phil called to get the boys attention. He sat on the end of the others bed, cocking his head to look at him. Though there wasn’t a visible face, there was another hum. “Dan, hun, you’ve gotta sit up. You’re gonna get a blood clot, love.” Phil lightheartedly scolded Dan, scooting over to the curled up lump on the bed.
Phil placed his hands gently on the forms shoulders, giving a light pull to inform Dan he was gonna pull him up. Phil barely heard the younger grumbling before Phil hoisted him up, Dan giving little effort to help the process. When he was sat up he immediately hid his face from the older.
“Let me see your face, pretty please?” Phil coaxed, rubbing Dan’s bony shoulders. Dan sighed and Phil took this as a sign of approval. He used his index and middle finger to lift up Dan’s head from his chin. Upon focusing on the face, Phil knew for sure something was seriously wrong. Firstly, Dan’s eyes were completely bloodshot, hollow, sunken, and held some serious eye bags. His cheekbones were hollowed out, his lips were chapped, his hair was knotty and greasy, and his skin was paler than his own.
Phil hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath with a hand over his mouth until he watched Dan’s eyes become watery. He let his hand drop from his mouth and onto the youngers shoulders, letting out a deep breath. He did a double take of Dans features and hugged Dan. The boy didn’t have any reaction, sitting still with his arms in his lap. Phil let his cheek rub into the boys bone-defined shoulder, feeling up his far-too-prominent spine. He had managed to pull himself together enough to release the others limp form and looked deep into Dan’s glazed over eyes, taking Dan’s hands gently in his.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna put on some more clothes, we’re gonna go to my flat, you’re gonna have a bath and something to eat, and we’re gonna watch something together. No hiding away again.” The older stated in a firm voice with gentle edges. All Dan could manage was a little nod, feeling his mind begin protesting. This is for the best. For Phil.
After helping Dan slip into a large, dark hoodie and sweats, Phil guided Dan out of the building and into a cab. When they finally arrived at Phil’s flat Dan felt absolutely exhausted, despite his only actions being walking and laying his head on Phil’s pudgy shoulder in the backseat of a cab.
Phil guided a tired Dan into the bathroom of his homely flat, sitting the younger on the toilet lid. He squatted down and turned the tap on to produce warm water and waited for it to fill up. When the water level looked acceptable Phil helped Dan strip and sat him down in the water. Phil sat with Dan for a few minutes, watching as the purple bath bomb he’d thrown in there dissolved in the water. The cozy silence was interrupted by a loud rumble from Dan’s empty stomach which reminded Phil that the younger needed food.
“I’ll be back.” Phil stood, rubbing Dan’s damp curls before walking towards the door. Dan was only alone for probably four whole seconds before Phil popped back into the doorway. “Pancakes or cereal?”
“...Pancakes?” Dan responded after a few moments of silence and contemplation. Phil gave a thumbs about before trotting away.
Phil had reentered the bathroom just as the water was getting cold and uncomfortable with a sympathetic smile on his lips. He sat on the toilet lid where he’d been before, studying Dan’s hair that was still fairly damp, unwashed.
“Hun, you’ve gotta actually wash your hair.” Phil told Dan in a gentle voice. After Dan’s eyes teared up again, Phil quickly regretted his words. “No- don’t- don’t cry, Dan. Here, I’ll help. Okay?” Phil sputtered out, reaching over to grab a cup and some shampoo.
Phil washed the last bit of conditioner out of Dan’s hair and helped the younger stand up, wrapping him in a fluffy towel. He guided Dan to the bedroom where he sat him down on the edge of his bright duvet and helped him slip back into his hoodie and boxers with Phil’s socks on his icy feet. After getting the brunet boy dressed, Phil took him by his hand and sat him down on his sofa, continuing to disappear into the kitchen. He reappeared with two plates of pancakes that were messily stacked and looked like they were about to topple over out of Phil’s unsteady hands.
Phil sat down beside Dan, placing the two plates onto the little coffee table in front of them, barely avoiding dropping them entirely. He pulled a nearby blanket over him and the boy beside him, grabbing the remote and turning on an episode of Sherlock, the volume slightly lower than normal. The duo laid there together, listening to the others breath and heartbeat. Just a little notion to unintentionally let the other one know they’re here. Living. Side by side.
In the span of a single episode Dan had managed to wedge a smooth leg between Phils, the other one sprawled out in front of him. His hands were both resting on Phil and his head was laid on the olders shoulder once again. Phil glanced down at the younger boy who was yawning and desperately trying to keep his eyelids open, despite it being only seven o’clock. This was a bit out of place as Dan was well known for going to bed super light at night or early in the morning.
“What happened to Dan Night-owl Howell? It’s not 3 AM yet, silly.” Phil lightheartedly teased the sleepy boy that was hugging him like a koala. Dan weakley lifted his head off of Phil’s shoulder and offered him the first smile of the day. Even though it was tiny, almost invisible, it was there and this was progress.
“Mm… I haven’t slept in four days.” Dan slurred, drunk on tiredness. Phil’s face hardened a bit and Dan instinctively dropped his head back on Phil’s shoulder so he didn’t have to meet Phil’s questioning gaze.
“Like- not at all?” Phil questioned, worry lacing his voice just as it had earlier.
“Nah. I like… passed out ‘n all that.” Dan snuggled closer to Phil’s warm body, not really paying much attention to what was coming out of his mouth.
“Well that’s not healthy.” Phil said with a slightly shocked tone. Dan just hummed. “Okay, how about we go to an actual bed?” Dan just hummed again. Phil picked Dan up from the sofa with his barely existent muscles, only possible because he was so light, and carried the smaller one into his room. Dan was latched onto Phil like a black bear on a tree with his head buried in Phil’s neck. As they entered Phil’s room, Dan furrowed his eyebrows at the change of lighting, the brightness sending a shock of pain through his skull. Phil quickly laid Dan down on the bed and went back over to switch the light off.
Phil climbed back into the bed where Dan was teetering on the edge of a deep sleep. He laid down under the covers where Dan swiftly wrapped his arms and legs around Phil’s torso, curling up and letting their foreheads rest against each other.
“Goodnight, Dan. I love you loads.” Phil whispered to Dan, not even knowing if he was even still awake or not.
“I love you too, Philly.” Dan responded in an even quieter voice and drifting off into what would end up being a 15 hour slumber.
A/N: I wrote most of this in my global connections class. As in. I probably wrote a whopping three paragraphs at home. Also related to global connections: as I was writing it the girl beside me kept trying to read it and was like “c’mon let me read it” “is it sexual?” “pleassee can i read it? i’m not gonna tell” like klsdjfklsjd no thanks that’s horrifyingly embarrassing. (Title from: I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young)
Dan was having a difficult time adjusting to university. He could manage the work, the distance from home, and the stress, but he didn’t feel like his social skills were helping him in any way. It was already the second week of classes and he had no friends.
That’s not for lack of trying, either. He had listened to what everyone suggested to him, such as “Keep your door open so people know you’re friendly and will stop by to talk!” or “Wander around a bit to stop by other people’s open rooms!” And the greatest lie: “You’ll have no problems making friends! The first week, everyone scrambles to try to make friends!” Well, guess what? None of that happened.
The first day, Dan arranged and unpacked all of his stuff with the door open so people could say hi. His room was the first one in the hall, so everyone had to walk by him to get to their own room. Unfortunately, the only people that said anything to him were the parents of his peers. Dan tried not to let it get to him; after all, everyone else must have been busy moving in to their own rooms.
Dan kept his door open whenever he was in his room for the next three days, which is to say, his door was practically always open as he hardly ever left. Not a single person stopped by.
Eventually, Dan decided that he should try to go out and meet people, so he mustered up his courage, prepared for immense social awkwardness, and headed out to the common areas around campus. He smiled at some people, waved at others in as friendly a manner as he could, and even tried sitting on a bench blowing some bubbles to attract people, but still nothing. People rarely smiled back, hardly ever waved back, and nobody came up to him to talk or even pop bubbles. Seriously, who doesn’t immediately jump on a chance to pop bubbles?
When classes began, he figured he could talk to the people around him and make friends, but it seemed that they had all already found groups of people to hang out with and compare class notes. People only talked to him long enough to realize that he was socially awkward before promptly ignoring him once more.
A discouraged Dan gave up. He had tried so hard to stick to his idea to not be on his phone and talking to people from home for at least the first month, but he just couldn’t do it anymore. He wasn’t sure when the last actual conversation he’d had had been and he craved human interaction, which he never thought he’d experience. So he did the last thing he could think of to do: call Phil.
They’d already been talking for awhile and met in person multiple times and were in the disgustingly adorable honeymoon stage of their relationship. Phil had actually encouraged Dan’s radio silence, saying it would be easier to make friends if he wasn’t always checking his phone, which Dan now regretted. If he hadn’t listened to Phil’s advice, he probably wouldn’t be this miserable now. So he gave in and called Phil.
“Hello?” Phil answered.
“Hey, Phil,” Dan mumbled.
“Dan! How’s uni going? Are you all settled in? Classes going well?” Phil asked.
Dan just sighed. “No. I don’t have any friends. I did everything you suggested and everyone else suggested, I even went looking for people to talk to, and nobody wants to talk to me. I was blowing bubbles outside and not even one person seemed interested. I tried talking to the people in my classes but they’ve all got friends already somehow and I just haven’t had an actual conversation with a real person in fuck-knows-how-long and I needed to hear your voice.”
“Aww, Dan! I’m sorry it’s taking you longer to make friends than you thought,” Phil tried to comfort Dan.
“No, Phil, you don’t understand! It’s not taking longer than I thought, it’s just flat-out not happening. It’s like I’m invisible. I tried talking about Marvel with some people that seemed kinda nerdy and two of them literally bonded over their dislike of superhero movies right in front of me when I brought it up. They made friends in front of me but without me.”
“Aww, that’s really horrible. Should I come visit you? Do you want to visit me? It might take your mind off of things,” Phil suggested.
“No, I’ll be okay. I don’t have time because of class, anyway, I just really needed to talk to you.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Can you just, like, talk to me about something? I don’t care what, but your voice is really calming and I really need that right now.”
And so Phil launched into a story about some weird old lady that held a conversation with him in the stairwell or something while Dan closed his eyes and pretended he was okay.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was the next day and Dan was doing a little better. He still wasn’t really making friends, although he did talk to people more than he had in the past few days. Talking to Phil had really given him a confidence boost, reminding him that there really was someone that liked hanging out with him. Dan had just returned to his room after his last class and was sitting down to mess around on his laptop when he heard a knock on his door.
Dan sighed. This always had to happen right when he got comfortable, didn’t it. He got up again and opened the door, fully intending to dismiss the person as quickly as possible so he could get on with his life. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to make friends, but he was tired and wanted to screw around on the internet, dammit.
When the door opened fully, however, anything he might have said died in his throat. Standing before him was his boyfriend, handsome and sweet as always, holding a bouquet of roses in a vase and a box of chocolates.
Dan gaped. “I- Phil?!”
Phil smiled sheepishly. “You sounded so upset over the phone the other day and I know you said you would be fine, but I just couldn’t leave you to deal with it on your own. I got you these as a pick-me-up.” He held the flowers out to Dan for him to take.
Dan stared at him, mind racing and emotions running rampant. “You- you brought me flowers?” he whispered.
Phil started to look a bit worried now. “Um, yes?” he squeaked out. “You don’t have to take them if you don’t want them, I just didn’t want you to feel bad anymore and-“
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before. Or chocolate.” Dan had a few tears trickling down his face now, and he gently took the roses and chocolates and placed them on his dresser, before turning back to Phil with a genuine grin. “Thank you.”
“Of cou-“
Phil didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Dan claimed his lips in a passionate yet loving kiss. When they eventually broke apart to breathe, Dan rested his forehead against Phil’s. “I love you. Really.”
Phil smiled again. “I love you, really, too.”
And maybe Phil would leave his room later, the chocolates would be eaten and the flowers dead, and maybe Dan would still have trouble making friends at uni, but Dan knew it would somehow turn out okay. After all, Phil was just a phone call and a flower shop away.
The boy pushed through the door and stopped awkwardly, all coltish arms and legs. A long emo fringe fell over his big brown eyes. He could be no more than 18, but there was something arresting about him….ah, if I were a younger man— “Come in and welcome!”
“Er, I’ll just wait here for Phil,” with a shuffle of feet. Not for me then. Not that I’d ever do more than ogle. Jim and I have a nice life here in Blackpool, middle-aged landlords in a seaside town that doesn’t worry too much about other people’s business.
Another lad appeared in the doorway, and the first one’s face erupted in a broad smile as their eyes met. They lingered for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze, before they came to the counter. They stood perhaps two millimetres apart, resting their elbows on the surface.
“We have a room booked under ‘Phil Lester’? Two beds?”
Like most hotels, we can make up a double room with the beds either separate or pushed into one. We usually make them up separate, but we try to make the conversion easy by leaving a full-sized duvet in the cupboard with the extra pillows. I couldn’t imagine that these two, especially as tall as they both were, would not opt to push their beds together.
“Yes, sir. We we able to book you our last room. It’s a bit small and up a few flights of steps—it’s basically a garret at the top of the house. But it does have a great view.”
“Dan and I are just happy you had a room. We had to change our holiday plans at the last minute. Because of that volcano in Iceland.”
“We couldn’t believe they grounded all the aeroplanes! But Phil worked out another plan! He said no volcano could stop us now.” There was that smile on Dan’s face again, as they looked at each other and seemed to forget I was there for a moment. Dan recovered himself with a small clearing of his throat. “Unless there is a dormant volcano under Blackpool?”
I smiled indulgently. “Not that I’ve noticed. But you never know.”
Phil’s mind was no longer on volcanos. “Is there anywhere near here we can get a sandwich? We didn’t eat on the train.”
“I can make you some ham and cheese and fizzy drinks, if you like.”
“Just ham please. Thank you!”
“Phil won’t let us eat cheese.” The boy pouted, but the corners of his mouth twitched up as he glanced at Phil from under his eyelashes.
I decided not to ask. “Have a seat and I’ll be right out.”
Breakfast the next day was winding down. Butter was being scraped onto toast and second or third cups of tea were being poured. The guests sat in the dining room were typical sorts. Chatting quietly in the corner was the older couple from the Midlands who had fond memories of coming to Blackpool as children. There were the three twentysomething backpackers (they always seem to come in threes) talking slightly too loudly. And the American woman sat waiting for her daughter—whose nose was buried in a book—to finish her eggs.
Into this quiet bustle stepped one of yesterday’s lads—Phil. He was slightly disheveled and wearing glasses, and looked as though he had thrown on yesterday’s t-shirt. “Is breakfast still being served?”
“Of course,” said Jim. “Tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please, for both of us. Dan will be down in a minute.”
Jim winked as he passed me to get the coffee. In our business, we have served breakfast to thousands of people, and we have developed a finely-honed sense of how they have spent their morning before coming to join us. I gave my partner a stern look. I did not think these particular guests would appreciate any nudge-nudge-wink-wink, which sometimes Jim was prone to indulge in. Apparently my look was not stern enough.
Dan appeared at the door. And though Phil had slipped to the table unnoticed, Dan managed to make an unintended entrance. His hair, so carefully straightened yesterday, was a mass of tangled curls. His eyes were bright and his skin was glowing. Everyone looked toward the door; even the little girl glanced up from her book to see why the room had gone quiet.
Jim gestured toward the seat opposite Phil with the hand not carrying toast. “Sleep in this morning, mate?”
The boy’s olive skin flushed scarlet. He was half-way to his table, stopped, started again, and perched himself on the chair facing his companion. He took a gulp of the coffee that Phil had made for him. A brief whispered conference did not calm Dan’s agitation. He abruptly stood up and left the room. Phil sat looking after him, concern and exasperation on his face, before thoughtfully returning to his own coffee and cereal.
I stepped out into the small garden to find Phil sat scratching Sally’s neck. Sally’s a corgi with a healthy dose of spaniel, and she loves attention from anyone willing to give it to her. I plopped onto a nearby chair and lit a cigarette. I saw Phil’s nose twitch, but he looked up and smiled politely.
“I reckon you lads were planning on going somewhere more…exotic.” The word “romantic” hung in the air.
The boy shrugged. “We just wanted to be on holiday.” Now it was “together” that bobbed gently between us.
I took the plunge and picked it up.
“How long have you two been together?”
The sea-blue eyes widened, and I saw him sort through possible replies. But he reached a decision and answered, bent over the dog’s head, “Six months, I guess.”
I was sure he knew exactly, but I nodded. “Me and Jim have been together—let’s see: 16 years this summer. I remember when it was all new and we were crazy in love. But it honestly has only gotten better with time. Not so much crazy, but even more love.”
He looked from under his fringe and tilted his head. “Isn’t it hard?”
I knew what he meant. I don’t normally set up shop in the garden to counsel my guests. Somehow, though, it seemed important to play the wise uncle this time. The wise gay uncle.
“Relationships are always hard—the hardest thing there is. But the most rewarding anything can be. And yeah, it can be extra hard if you’re queer.”
He winced.
I shrugged. “My advice is, embrace the labels. Or let them roll off your back. Whichever metaphor you like. I’m sure you’ve heard worse, and you will again.”
Sally had rolled over by now, and Phil was deliberately stroking her belly. “I thought I liked girls as well as guys. And you know, it’s cool to be bi. At least if you’re my age.”
“Hey, it’s been cool to be bi for a while. I have no problem with that. There are loads of ways to be queer.”
I used that word again. He kept going, though.
“Dan’s a guy.”
“Indeed he is!”
Phil frowned slightly—perhaps a bit of a leer had crept into my voice.
“If we stick together forever, then what….”
“Then you are incredibly lucky. Having a partner by your side to love and cherish, and who will love you back, will make all the awful things bearable. And all the good things even better. Not everybody gets that, not by a long shot. I remind myself of that every day.”
“Will you get married when you—we—you know.”
“When same-sex marriage passes? Dunno. Marriage is just a piece of paper if your relationship isn’t working already. And if it is working just fine? Might be a bit strange for us after so long. But for you blokes, the timing could be perfect, in a couple of years.”
He shook his head impatiently. “It doesn’t matter. I just love Dan and mean to have him in my life forever. I don’t care about labels, or, you know, status. Or what anyone thinks.”
And this was the crux of the matter. Phil needed only to give his heart and that was done. I could see he was rock-steady in his feelings, knowing who he was and what he wanted and where he wanted to be.
“And you’re worried that Dan cares?”
With a sigh, Phil abandoned the dog—who to all appearances has fallen asleep—and wrapped his arms protectively about his knees.
“He’s only had girlfriends before—before me. He was with his last girlfriend for three years.”
A hint of jealousy and insecurity creased his features. I waited.
“He cares what people think—too much, sometimes. I know he loves me. He lets me know all the time.” A smile chased the frown away. “He doesn’t think our relationship really is anyone else’s business, which suits me. But I’m not sure he’s ready to be seen as 'queer’.” The smile vanished again and Phil’s lips pressed tight together.
“Maybe he’s not, and maybe he never will be. But I’ve seen how he looks at you. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s in it for the long haul. Even though sometimes it will be hard.”
I was at the desk an hour or so later when Dan came through the front door and asked for his room key.
As I slid the key across the counter I said, “I think your guy’s up in your room.”
“He’s not my—”
I held onto the key for a moment. I wasn’t done counselling my guests, it seemed.
“Don’t be ashamed of your love.”
He looked back at me, startled.
“Look, I’m sorry my partner—my guy—teased you. He shouldn’t have done that. It was none of his business, and he should know better.”
“You just called Phil my guy.”
I lifted my hands. “True enough. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that either. But if Phil is not your guy, I’ll eat my broom.”
We looked at each other.
“Love is love. You don’t have to label your love or yourself. If anyone else has a label for you, you can shrug or laugh or shake your head. But don’t get upset, yeah?”
“Sure, okay.” He wasn’t convinced. That’s okay—I’d done enough lecturing for the day.
I picked up the key and handed it to him. “Cheers! You and Phil have a great day. Let me know if there is anything else you need.”
Blackpool has a lovely sandy beach, unlike the pebbles strewn along most of Britain’s coast. The weather was a bit chilly for April, but at least it wasn’t raining as I made my weekly visit to my mate on the pier. His shop is the usual sort of tourist-trinket place, with a few actual local handicrafts on the shelves. There are always tourists on the pier, of course, but on a weekday in April it’s not too bad. My friend and I took our cups of tea to the bench outside and smoked in companionable silence.
This is how I came to see our two young guests out and about. Two tall young men ambled down the pier, deep in conversation. They were not holding hands, but you might have thought they were, for how close they walked together. They stopped in a shop a few doors down, and when they emerged Dan was holding a 99. (Why an ice cream cone with a Flake stuck in it should be called a '99’ is one of the enduring mysteries of the universe.) Phil had his camera out and was taking pictures of Dan. Simple holiday snaps, against a background of wrought iron benches and iron grey sky. But the way the camera was loving the subject and the subject was loving the photographer back suggested results as arresting as if they’d been taken by a famous photographer.
Phil stuck his camera back in his pocket. Dan finished his ice cream, then turned and ran back they way they had come. Phil gave chase, and they dodged and played tag amongst the few other pedestrians on the pier. They could be children together as easily as they could be travel companions and lovers and friends. They were indeed lucky to have each other.
We were shorthanded on housekeeping, so I climbed the steps to fetch the linens and towels from the room at the top of the house. The room had been left tidy. As I had expected, the beds were shoved together, the bedclothes swirled into a complete tangle on top. In the en suite, my eye was caught by smudges on the mirror. Someone had written on the glass when it was fogged: “I LOVE DAN”. Over it, in a different layer of steam, had been drawn a large and elaborate heart.
I did not doubt that the love drawn on that mirror would endure. In fact, I know it has. That stay in our hotel was seven years ago. I don’t remember all the guests who come and go, of course, but I haven’t had any trouble remembering these two.
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but when they checked out they mentioned that they had YouTube channels. It wasn’t too hard to find them (I may be an old guy, but I can use Google). I’ve kept an eye on them over the years. You might say that I’m one of their oldest fans, in more than one sense of the word. And I’ve been pleased to see that the love that was obvious to me seven years ago is still there, and has matured into something solid and enduring. Their love is obvious to most of their many, many fans too. Even though they have never confirmed it, and have sometimes denied it. It certainly hasn’t always been easy for them; I am impressed that they manage so well in the public eye these days. I’m not sure that’s something I would have predicted—that they would also become partners in the business of building a small entertainment empire.
Jim and I are still here in Blackpool, still running the hotel, seven years on. We live together and work together and every part of our lives is intertwined. We’ve had our ups and downs like any couple, but we’re still in love. We even got married, and life has never been better.
We were able to upgrade the hotel a few years ago and we expanded the room at the top into a proper honeymoon suite. I don’t know if Phil and Dan would ever choose to come back here—they are now world travellers, used to luxury and skybars and being recognised in the street. Their stay here must seem so long ago. But if they ever want to come back, we have the perfect room waiting for them.
Here is a masterlist of my fics about 2009!phan and 2010!phan. There will be more in the series, possibly continuing into 2011!phan and beyond. The fics are all standalone, but they also can be read in chronological order. Any and all feedback, as always, is welcome. I'll keep this post updated as more fics are written!
Lioness
Summary: Phil makes a video that changes his world (later known as PINOF). You’ve seen the video; here is the story behind it, told by one who was there.
Excerpt: I don’t know what is wrong with Phil today. He got up early and tidied his room—even though he tidied it yesterday! He’s been in and out all morning—I think he’s tidying the rest of the house as well. He’s checking the time on the clock almost as often as he’s checking his fringe in the mirror. He’s practically vibrating with the energy that has been building in him over the past few weeks. I am certain now that it’s the same frickle frackle crackle of energy I feel wanting to get next to Lion. I wonder why Phil is feeling it now? Oh, look. He’s run out the door.
Genre: fluff, more fluff, 2009!phan fluff; a touch of implied smut
Warnings: none
Word count: 3.3k
Posted: 19 October 2016
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What Uma Thurman Saw
Summary: Dan and Phil are best friends who carry on a public flirtation for their followers. One night, Dan tweets that Uma Thurman watched him have sex. Then everything changes.
Excerpt: Phil had suggested they take a ride on the Manchester Wheel, and as they sat close together in their car, Phil had not stopped fidgeting, clawing at Dan’s shoulder and even snapping his teeth together behind Dan’s ear. In an effort to calm Phil down as he came in again for his shoulder, Dan—unthinkingly drawing on long years of practise as a boyfriend— had turned his head and planted a kiss on Phil’s mouth.
Genre: 2009!phan fluff and smut
Warnings: fluffy smut of various sorts
Word count: 2k
A/N: The smut is toward the end after a bit of a lead-up—but isn’t that the best smut lol?
Posted: 13 December 2016
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Happy Christmas
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve 2009. Phil has had an amazing year, and the best part of it is sleeping on the sofa next to him.
Excerpt: Phil took Dan to his favourite haunts in Manchester, and then up in the big Wheel. As they rose into the air, Phil wanted to take Dan into his arms again, and bury his face into his neck, and kiss him all over. But he was nervous and not sure of what Dan would want. His desire to hold him manifested in clawing at him, and his desire to kiss him manifested in biting into the air next to him. Suddenly, to his surprise, Dan turned his head and kissed him full on the mouth.
Genre: 2009!phan fluff
Warnings: none
Word count: 1355
Posted: 19 December 2016
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forever plz
Summary: While Dan was in India on a family holiday, Phil sent him a valentine. Now all Dan can think about is reuniting with Phil.
Excerpt: He got off the train, and there was Phil. He had the sudden urge to run into Phil’s arms like in some cheesy film. Phil was looking at him with that solemn, intent gaze of his, and then he smiled and Dan was in his arms. A corner of his mind hoped he hadn’t actually run, but most of him was taken up by Phil.
Genre: 2010!phan fluff and smut
Warnings: fluffy smut including blowjobs and anal sex
Word count: 2.5k
Posted: 20 February 2017
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No volcano can stop us now
Summary: Dan and Phil’s plans in April 2010 to holiday in Portugal are spoiled, so they go to Blackpool instead.
Excerpt: “I reckon you lads were planning on going somewhere more…exotic.” The word “romantic” hung in the air.
The boy shrugged. “We just wanted to be on holiday.” Now it was “together” that bobbed gently between us.
Genre: 2010!phan, reality, fluff, fluffy angst, outsider POV
Warnings: slight homophobic language
Word count: 2.5k
Posted: 19 April 2017
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