Dan and Phil Versus The World
pff bingo: interactive introverts & glass closet
Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, introspection, reality/non-au
Word Count: 3k
“I mean...we’re not in the closet. Not really,” Phil says.
“Phil, this is the closet.”
read on ao3
~•~•~
The idea had started simply enough.
“We should go on another tour.”
That had been the start, one night, far too soon after their last tour’s end. It had come after a long night of drinking, and of talking, and of planning.
The night had been filled with plans, but they weren’t the sort of plans that Dan and Phil would write down. These plans were softly spoken plans filled with taboo words whispered through a veil of liquid courage. Words like ‘branding’ and ‘coming out’ and ‘privacy’ and ‘us’ and ‘them.’
‘Them.’
This particular word had become taboo quite a long time ago. It always sounded just a bit wrong. Like talking about someone behind their back. Like generalizing a group of diverse individuals. A few years prior, they would have been fine with doing so, but it felt strange then. It was early-2017, and they were still riding the leftover waves of TATINOF’s massive success.
Dan and Phil were just finishing their first-ever world tour, and they’d seen these people. These millions of faces that supported them. They’d hugged hundreds of them. They’d heard their stories. Stories of finding happiness in silly gaming banter and finding courage in quotes from videos that Dan barely remembers scripting. They had read through letters. They’d watched smiles and tears spring to the faces of audience members. They’d moved closer, closer, and closer to them.
And “them” was just a less taboo replacement for an even worse word. “Fans.”
Neither Dan nor Phil quite liked the word “fan” in the context of their audience’s relationship to them. It felt weird, uncomfortable, inauthentic. It felt like Dan and Phil were sat on a pedestal, and the faces of their audience were far, far, away in the nosebleed seats. Their audience didn’t deserve to be there, be put down, and Dan and Phil didn’t deserve to be idolized past the point of their own humanity.
Dan and Phil wanted to move closer to them. They wanted to find the right distance. They wanted to explore the idea of “them and us.” Of audience and entertainer. Of how close would become too close.
So, that thoughtful night in 2017, Dan said, “We should go on another world tour.”
And Phil--just the same amount buzzed and just the same amount lost in messy thoughts--agreed.
Then there was Interactive Introverts, and it was everything. It was ambitious and entirely different than their last stage show. It was authentic, real, laid on the solid foundations of a theme that Dan and Phil both cared so much about.
Before either of them could blink it was happening.
~
Dan recounts the messiness of the months before the tour began where he sits in the back of the tour bus.
He blinks.
He must be giving off ‘don’t talk to me’ vibes today, because he has the entire back of the bus to himself. The rest of the crew seem to be either napping or chatting quietly in the front area of the bus as they pass by the endless American pastures outside.
The American leg of the tour has been odd. It’s not stressful flights and cramped cars and booking dozens of hotel rooms, but it is a lot of one environment and one crew for an extended period. Dan loves the crew. In fact, they’re honestly the closest friends he and Phil have right about now. Still, it’s difficult to be around people all day every day in such a confined space. Luckily, they’re all human, so when one of them is giving off fierce ‘don’t talk to me’ vibes the others understand. It’s just Dan’s turn today, he supposes.
Sometimes, most of the time even, Dan doesn’t mind the closet. The doors are glass, and he can pretend they aren’t there. Other times he slams face-first into the glass doors. Today’s one of those days.
It’s the weekend of gay pride back in London. He sees it all across Twitter and Instagram. It makes his chest ache in an odd way.
So, he sits and gazes out the window at the plain countryside. He thinks about the video he failed to finish and all of the mess that had taken up his time this year. He lets himself emit the ‘don’t talk to me’ vibes. He doesn’t really have to energy to speak when he’s using it all to mope instead.
Of course, there is one person who’s immune to Dan’s ‘don’t talk to me’ vibes.
This person collapses against the couch beside him, carrying his pillow as he always does. Dan teases him about security blankets, but he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t precious. He props his pillow up against Dan’s shoulder before leaning against it and sighing.
Dan looks over at him. “Hello,” he says softly. Dan can speak to Phil. Phil doesn’t drain Dan’s energy the way that others do.
“Mm,” Phil hums in reply. He’s wearing his glasses. “You’re bein’ loud,” he grumbles.
Dan’s lips turn up despite his less than jovial mood. “Shut up,” he says, amused. He’s had that same complaint spoken into silence enough to understand what Phil means. It means something like ‘you’re being too quiet, you’re thinking too much, and it’s noticeable’ in sleepy Phil language.
“It’s your fault,” Dan teases. “Shouldn’t be listening in on my private thoughts.”
“Oh,” Phil says. “I thought we shared a consciousness.”
“I fucking hope not,” Dan says, lighter. “I don’t know if I want to see the innermost workings of this mind, Phil Lester.” He taps Phil’s forehead to make his point.
“Please,” Phil says, obviously a bit too tired to properly give his all to the banter. “You’d be honored.”
“Mm,” Dan hums, neither agreeing or disagreeing.
“Mhm,” Phil replies, agreeing. “So, since I can’t read your mind, tragically,” he says. “What’re you thinking about?”
Dan shifts a bit on the couch, and Phil whines a bit, resituating himself against Dan.
“We have a hotel tonight, yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Phil answers, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re thinking about, then?”
Dan rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Phil says, grinning.
“Well that is decidedly not what I was thinking about,” Dan says.
“That’s sad for you,” Phil says.
Dan properly giggles this time. “Shut up,” he says again, a bit loud. “I’m just thinking about...us.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m just glad we get to be together tonight,” he says.
Phil could reply with a joking comment on their inability to be separated for even the length of a night’s sleep, but he doesn’t. He’s glad they get to be together, too. It’s been quite a few nights without Dan, and Phil knows what he means. It’s not just being together, it’s being alone together.
“Me too,” Phil agrees softly. He glances at the hallway and confirms that no one is within the range of seeing. So, Phil presses a kiss to Dan’s lips and grins a little.
Dan grins a bit as well.
~
Phil assumes too much. He expects nonverbal communication. He expects public secrets and common knowledge of things that haven’t been discussed.
It’s only gotten worse since he’s been with Dan because Dan is good at unspoken truths. He’s good at communication that dances around a topic without looking it in the face. It’s gotten them in trouble before, certainly, and Dan has figured out when to drop the pretenses. He knows when to look an issue straight-on.
Phil still likes to dance around things. He likes to avoid conflict and confrontation, especially when he or someone else stands to get hurt. He justifies this to himself by assuming that everyone else understands whatever it is that he doesn’t want to explain. He expects mind-readers.
He recognizes these analytic thoughts, as he thinks them. It’s therapy talk, repeating itself. Phil’s fear of confrontation is something that’s often brought up with his therapist. As Phil sits, staring out the window of the tour bus and feeling mildly sick, he misses her. He won’t be able to see his therapist again until they return home, and he’s sure he’ll have endless things to bring up with her.
There’s a funny thing about a fear of confrontation, Phil finds. Recovery consists of confronting the fear of confrontation. While it’s oxymoronic, at least Phil’s done one of the steps.
Confrontation is an easy thing to fear, but Phil can’t help feeling like he has good reason to fear it. He grew up gay. He spent so long actively avoiding confrontation about his sexuality. It feels almost second nature now. He’s not sure he knows how to confront it. He doesn’t want it to be a big deal.
Phil never came out to his parents. He was never into the pretty girls at his school, he never talked about them, and he brought around male friends who would stay the night and leave the pull-out couch bed untouched. It was obvious that Phil was seeing men, and that he had no real intention to see women.
Or so he had thought.
The memory still brings about anxiety, even though his family couldn’t be more accepting these days. He remembers his mum confronting him after it became too obvious. He remembers thinking that it all had been silently acknowledged and that he would never have to talk about it. It was stupid, in hindsight. Obviously, his sexuality would be a big deal to his family, whether he wanted it to be or not.
Phil still falls back into those habits.
Sometimes he’s too careless with Dan. He thinks it’s obvious that they’re in love. He convinces himself that everyone knows, they just don’t talk about it. He wants to kiss Dan when people can see. He wants to book one hotel room with one king-sized bed for both of them and let it slip by without mention.
People like to mention things, though. They like to talk about things.
Phil thinks he and Dan are obvious, and maybe they are. Still, he knows that if he were to kiss Dan square on the mouth in front of their crew, questions would be unavoidable.
Phil doesn’t really know how to be in the closet, but he knows that he wants to protect this beautiful, perfect, and private thing between him and Dan at all costs.
He stops himself there, turning away from the window. He doesn’t want to think any longer.
“How much further?” he asks, sounding just a bit impatient.
“Just over an hour,” someone replies.
~
Just over an hour later, Dan’s coming up with an excuse for him and Phil to go immediately to the hotel. It’s only one in the afternoon, and there are things to see in this city, but they need to be alone. Alone together. Dan says something about filming a video, and Phil holds back a sigh because they do have to film, and he’d forgotten.
They can film tomorrow. They enjoy filming, anyways. They get an excuse to hang out alone together. And the gaming channel is so easy compared to everything else they want to work on for youtube. The editing's a bitch, but it gives them something to do while traveling these long American roads.
The crew talks with each other about plans, and Dan and Phil slip into the hotel. They check in to separate rooms in the lobby, but they go to the same room with all of their things. Later, they’ll compare rooms and decide which is better to stay the night in. They’ll order room service and laugh and maybe film something. For now, they just need a moment.
The hotel room’s door closes, they put their things down on the floor, and Dan sighs.
Phil’s not sure exactly what’s bothering Dan, but it makes perfect sense as soon as he says it.
“I want to come out, Phil,” he says, standing by the door of the hotel. He stares inward, blankly. He’s not looking at the room or anything at all. He’s thinking so much that it seems he can do little else.
Phil sighs, walking back to where Dan stands. It’s definitely not an unfamiliar conversation topic between them. It’s much the opposite. Dan had plans to officially come out this year. He has plans to come out, but things keep getting messy and scary and confusing.
“I know,” Phil says softly. “You will. We will.”
“I know,” Dan says. He’s still not looking at anything, and his eyes are unfocused.
“I mean...we’re not in the closet. Not really,” Phil says, perhaps in an attempt to cheer Dan up. They’ve never been ‘in the closet,’ really. At least, not in a long while. They just keep certain things private. It’s been a long time since either of them have pretended to be someone they aren’t.
Dan sighs. “Phil, this is the closet.”
Phil frowns. “How do you mean?”
Dan shrugs, walking into the room. “Just, like, the whole Dan and Phil ‘brand’ or whatever.” He uses finger quotes around the term ‘brand.’ His voice is tinged with irritation. “Like, this tour, and the last tour, and our YouTube channels. We’ve, like, put ourselves in this, like, glass box. Like, yeah, people know, but they don’t know. And if--and when we come out, all of that...that glass is going to shatter.”
“Is that a good thing?” Phil asks. He gets what Dan means, but his brain is so slow today. He doesn’t want to talk about glass closets and sexuality and how the hell they’re going to navigate their relationship if they keep it in the spotlight. If they talk about that then questions will come up that Phil doesn’t have the ability to answer.
All he wants is to lie next to Dan and be unseen for a little while. There’s the possibility here for a fight, but Phil’s not sure that either of them has the energy.
“It’s just this tour, trying to be authentic, Dan and Phil…” Dan trials off and sniffles, and it catches Phil off guard. He goes to say more, but tears start slipping down his cheeks instead and he looks away from Phil.
“Dan, whoa whoa, hey,” Phil’s voice is suddenly much softer. “Why are you crying?”
Dan shrugs, sitting down on the bed. A dam seems to have broken, and he chokes a bit. “It’s a lot, Phil,” he cries.
“It is,” Phil answers. “But it’s good, isn’t it?”
Dan shrugs again. “I--I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Phil says softly. He stands and kicks off his shoes. He then strips off his jeans and t-shirt. He desperately needs a shower, but it can wait. He kneels down and unzips Dan’s shoes. Dan lets him pull them off and toss them messily aside. As he watches Phil, his tears pick up. Phil tugs his jeans off next, and by the time his t-shirt is gone Dan is properly bawling.
Phil sits beside Dan, both of them stripped of their dirty, uncomfortable, tour bus clothes. He lays back on the bed, and he holds his arms open. Dan reaches up to futilely wipe his eyes and lets go of one more sob before falling into Phil.
Phil wraps his arms around Dan, and they lay there.
Phil strokes his hand up and down Dan’s shoulder, and Dan buries his face between the duvet and Phil’s shoulder. He cries for a while, saying nothing. Phil just holds him and hushes him softly.
It is a lot. The tour, their careers, the closet. It’s all quite a lot, and Dan needs to cry about it. Phil’s sure that he will too, once he has the energy.
“Phil,” Dan says quietly. “Sometimes I wish we could just run away together.”
“Yeah?” Phil asks, smiling sadly.
Dan nods. “Mhm. Find a tiny little house somewhere to live in and, just, start over. Just like, buy a fuckin’ cafe in France and live out our lives as old gay baristas.”
Phil giggles softly. “Sounds nice,” he says.
“Doesn’t sound ungrateful?”
“Not to me, but I might be biased.”
Dan smiles a bit at this. They look at each other. Phil reaches to brush away some of the tears that continue to slip down Dan’s cheeks.
“Isn’t it...isn’t it weird that tomorrow night you and I are going to get up on stage and play out this, like, version of us and then we’re going to come back here and be...us?”
“I mean, isn’t that the entire point we’re making here?” Phil asked, smirking.
Dan smiled the slightest bit. “Shut up.”
“Plot twist.” Phil giggles. “Dan blows his own mind.”
Dan grins properly this time, pushing Phil away by the shoulder. “Phil?”
Phil grins, rolling back to his spot just against Dan. “Yeah?”
“Did we just make an entire stage show about the glass closet?”
Phil bites his lip, moving his eyes over Dan’s face. “No,” he says.
Dan grins. “Oh? Okay, good. Was worried there for a sec.”
Phil leans in and kisses Dan on the lips. “You think too much,” he says when he pulls back. “We’re us, you know? No matter how many people are watching. That’s what the show’s about.”
Dan’s eyes flick back up from Phil’s lips to his eyes. “I like us best when we’re alone.”
“I like us wherever we are.”
“Sap.”
“Maybe.”
They have the night to themselves and they make the most of it, even if it means missing the sight-seeing available outside. They end up staying in Dan’s room, ordering room service and getting a little more than tipsy. They mess around a bit, press kisses to hot flesh, and drag it out for as long as they can. The next hotel stay is a while away, and they have to make up for the lost time. When they’re done they fall asleep a bit too early.
Dan wakes up at the annoying hour of two am. Unable to fall back asleep, he grabs his laptop and turns on the lamp. Phil remains fast asleep beside him, and his soft snores are comforting. Dan pulls up a word document entitled: “Basically, I’m Gay.”
Soon, he hopes.