Hey there! The wonderfully talented internetwashere composed and sang Golden based on All Was Golden in the Sky for this years Phandom Big Bang. It’s absolutely amazing, I’ve been forcing my friends and family to listen and been playing it on loop. The words are perfect, but the melody and chords and everything else just make it so much better. If you haven’t heard it yet you should definitely go give it a listen--I think I have a new favorite song and artist xx
colors whirling, thoughts flashing-it felt as if the butterflies in his stomach had lit themselves on fire.
"you weren't supposed to find out..."
or, the one where Dan and Phil end up with superpowers, including the ability to feel each other's emotions and hear each other's thoughts, are declared threats and taken into custody by the government, Dan's confused, and Phil has a secret.
Word Count: 3111 for this chapter! (So Many in total)
The world was ending.
Perhaps it was a bit melodramatic, but that’s what it felt like to Dan. His head pounded as he shakily sat up, the sound of fire engines’ sirens on his street muted, as if the world had been muffled by cotton, or a thick blanket of fog. A sudden shock of anxiety raced through his heart, the worry and fear so intense it almost seemed to be a physical pain. He tried to breathe deeply, but it was as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, causing him to wheeze in short, shallow gasps.
What had just happened? Where was Phil?
Dan stumbled to his feet, grabbing onto the side of his couch to pull himself up.
“Phil?” His voice came out hoarse, croaky. He coughed roughly before trying his voice again. “Phil? Where are you?” He tried to remember what had been happening before this- he must’ve passed out, the last thing he could remember was getting up to get a drink. But why? Why couldn’t he breathe? Where was Phil?
Dan looked around frantically for his phone, the world seeming to blur around him. It was nowhere in sight.
The apartment seemed hazy, filled with a kind of shimmer in the air, like one that might hang above a distant stretch of highway on a hot day, yet the air was cool around him. Had he hit his head? Was that what had knocked him out?
Dan tried taking yet another deep breath to steady himself, choking a bit as he inhaled, quickly finding it harder and harder to breathe. He sunk to the floor once more, wheezing and coughing.
He must’ve passed out again, because when he next opened his eyes, Phil was kneeling next to him, shaking him awake and tugging him weakly towards the door. Dan’s ears were ringing now, a dull hum vibrating at the back of his skull. His heart pounded with it. Something about that struck him as wrong, but he didn’t know why.
Phil said something that Dan couldn’t hear, and the humming grew louder. Phil tugged on his arm again, motioning for him to stay down. They slowly crawled to the door, keeping their heads down low to avoid the gas as much as possible.
They made it to their front door after a treacherous climb down the stairs, tiredly fumbling with the handle until it opened and seeing that there were paramedics just outside, leading the other occupants of the building out to ambulances in small clusters, strapping oxygen masks over their faces.
One of the nurses almost immediately came over to Dan and Phil, motioning for one of his colleagues to stay with the teenaged girl that he had previously been attending to. He talked to both of them with a calm, unshaken voice as he instructed them on what to do, and they were led out to the nearest ambulance.
Red lights flashed across his vision and sirens screamed along to the hum in his head. It was all very disorientating, forcing Dan to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to alleviate his pounding headache. They were instructed to sit down while one of the paramedics gave them a brief check-over. He was kind, asking the two of them questions about their medical history, allergies, and current medications that their foggy brains did their best to answer.
Ten minutes later, one of the paramedics told them that they ought to come to the hospital for further checks, to give an official account of what had happened to the police, and that they should start thinking about booking a hotel room for the night while the building was looked over.
Dan was about to ask further questions about the hospital visit when he spotted a news van pulling up to the building and starting to unload camera equipment. Images of a Twitter meltdown over a news clip that made everything seem worse than it actually was flashed through his head, and he glanced over to Phil, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Yes, they were fine, but would their subscribers know that, if all they saw was the two of them sitting in the back of an ambulance?
“Uh- yeah, should we just ride over to the hospital with the ambulances, or-” Dan asked quickly.
“Yes, we’re going to be leaving in just a few minutes. There’s a bench in the back, you two can ride in there. I’ll just be around the corner rounding up the rest of your neighbors to come with us, alright?” the nurse said tiredly, before hopping out and beginning to make her way around the parking lot.
Dan leaned over to Phil. “If that news camera sees us-”
“Yeah. Should we tweet something?”
“Maybe we should wait a bit, I don’t want to worry them too much.”
Phil nodded, leaning back against the bench. “I dunno about you, but I’ve got a huge headache.”
Dan made a noise of agreement, slumping down next to him while keeping an eye on the news van. “What the hell even was that, though? Do you think there was a fire?”
“It couldn’t have been, there’s no smoke,” Phil answered, gesturing to the clear sky above the building. “It wasn’t really hot inside, either.”
“Then what could it have been?”
Their conversation was cut short as a sniffling teenaged girl and an older couple who appeared to be her parents were led up to the ambulance.
“What about Alex?” the girl was asking. “Is Alex okay? He’s the little one in the wheelchair, my little brother, he’s only seven, please look after him first-” The paramedics shushed her with calming words, guiding her to sit down on the bench opposite Dan and Phil.
“Alex is going to be coming to the hospital with everyone else, it’ll be alright, love. You’ll get to see him in just a few minutes when we all arrive, alright? What’s your name, sweetheart? I’ll make sure that you get to see him as soon as possible.”
“P-Paige. Paige Oliveira.”
“It’ll be alright, Paige. Just wait here, we’ll be leaving in a moment.” With that, the ambulance doors shut and the tiny cabin was illuminated by bright strips of fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Paige started to sniffle again. Her fear seemed to hang in the air, pressing down on everyone in the cabin.
Dan glanced over at Phil. “We’ll be alright,” he said, but it was admittedly more for his own comfort than anyone else’s.
-=II=-
The ambulance finally arrived in a whir of sirens and flashing lights. It seemed that the other vehicles were getting unloaded first, as the doors to their little cabin remained shut for a while after they had stopped. Paige had jumped up from her seat, pacing back and forth in the small space. Her mother made a few attempts to calm the anxious girl, muttering a few words to her in a language that sounded like French, if a little different, and pulling her daughter to sit back down again, stroking her thick black hair. Her father was leaned back across the bench, staring blankly into the wall beside Phil’s shoulder.
“Hey, it’ll be alright guys,” Dan said cautiously, trying to reassure the nervous duo across from him. They either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.
Soon enough though, the doors swung open and they were greeted by a team of nurses swarming around the ambulance, leading them all out.
Paige immediately started shouting at the top of her lungs. “I’m fine, I just need to find my brother, please, don’t worry about me, I need to find Alex Ramirez, can anyone please tell me where he is?” Her father soon joined in the ruckus, and they were both escorted away by a nurse.
Dan and Phil were lead into the hospital by a male nurse, who informed them that they were going to do a few simple tests to determine what had happened to the air in their building, what its effects might be, and how best to move forward. They were reassured that it shouldn’t take more than two hours.
“What about all of our things?” Dan said suddenly as they walked, “The building’s going to be closed for the police, we don’t have extra clothes or anything, and-”
For a moment, Dan’s head throbbed, and a wave of pity crashed over him. He shook his head and it was gone, leaving him confused. Who had he even been pitying? Himself?
“I heard that it’ll be about a week before they open the building back up,” the nurse replied, “If you guys need anything, financial aid to cover the hotel or places where you can get cheap temporary clothes, I can ask around-”
“Thanks, but we’ll figure something out,” Dan said a bit more sharply than he had intended.
The nurse led them to a small room with a traditional-looking hospital bed, cabinets of medical equipment, and several ugly patterned chairs, instructing them to wait for another nurse, who would be administering the actual check-up, before stepping out.
Phil buried his head in his hands as soon as he had collapsed into one of the chairs lining the edges of the room, sighing. “This is a mess.”
Dan laughed humorlessly. “You could say that.”
“What the hell are we going to do about Summer in the City in two days? We won’t have different clothes, all of our passes and things are back at the house…”
“We’ll figure something out, yeah? Call the people who run it and explain what’s happened, surely they’ll be able to do something? We can stop by a store somewhere and pick up some more clothes before then.”
“And how long could we be stuck without our apartment for? All our filming equipment and our laptops are there- wait, did you get your phone on your way out?”
Dan’s eyes widened. “Shit. No. But-” He scrambled for some positive way to spin this, some reassurance. “We’ll be fine, alright? We can figure it out.” He reached out and placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder. He meant it as a comforting gesture, but it was one that turned sour as a strong wave of dizziness crashed over him. Suddenly, he was enveloped in a bright flash of colors- blue, red, purple, orange, forming fleeting images that disappeared before he could grasp what they actually were. A heavy weight, a dense cloud seemed to condense around his head, pelting him with raindrops of worries he wasn’t sure were entirely his, thoughts and confusion and anxiety bouncing around his brain like a rubber ball dropped from a tall building. Most oddly, these thoughts seemed to be in a voice not his own, but one resembling Phil’s. He jerked away, wide-eyed, his expression mirrored in the face of his friend. Did Phil feel that too? Was Dan going crazy?
“What the-” Dan was cut off by a tap on the door followed by it slowly creaking open, startling them. A new nurse walked in, hair pulled back into a high blonde ponytail and a soft smile on her face as she pushed a small cart of equipment into the room. She introduced herself as Amy, explaining the sorts of things she would be checking for- a breath analysis, blood analysis, and their vitals.
“Shall we start with you, then?” She gestured to Phil, who happened to be closer to the door.
Phil agreed after a moment’s hesitation, confusion from the previous events still evident on his face, leading the nurse to ask if he had any questions. (Both Dan and Phil certainly did, though almost absolutely not any she would be able to answer.) Those thoughts Dan had heard, they definitely weren’t his own. Phil winced as Amy took a blood sample, determinedly looking away from the needle and towards the wall. She had him take a deep breath and blow into a tube, then taking his blood pressure and asking a few questions about possible symptoms he had been feeling in the past hour or so.
Amy repeated the process with Dan, who was avoiding eye contact with Phil, still reeling in shock.
She finished her work deftly, straightening up after she took down a final bit of information on her laptop.“Well, I’m going to send this off, I have a few forms I need you guys to fill out with contact information for when your results come in and in case the police have any questions for you,” She smiled, pulling two clipboards from her cart and handing them over.
They took the boards blankly, picking up the pens attached and beginning to write. “You guys can leave whenever you’re done, just drop those off at the front desk when you do!” Amy said before wheeling her cart back out of the room, presumably moving on to the next one.
For the next ten minutes, the two filled out their information in silence.
-=II=-
Dan and Phil arrived at their nearest hotel at about nine. It was sort of a 3-star place, but would suffice for a few nights. They didn’t exactly have any baggage, so they settled down on the two queen beds instead of unpacking. They hadn’t spoken about what had happened in the hospital yet, less because of shame and fear and more due to a lack of knowing what to say at all. Dan flipped the TV on to some shitty reality show and they watched it absent-mindedly for a while, before Phil cautiously spoke.
“What was that, back there?”
Dan rolled over onto his side to face his friend. “It wasn’t just me, then.”
“Like… the flashing pictures and crazy colors and emotions thing? Yeah.”
“Yeah.” A short pause ensued.
“D’you reckon we’re getting superpowers now?” Phil mused, only partly joking.
Dan snorted, burying his face in a pillow.
“No, really though! If you can come up with a better explanation, I’d honestly love to hear it.”
Dan didn’t respond for a while. “I-” He paused again. “This is ridiculous.”
“We’re literally becoming superheroes because of a mysterious gas in our apartment. Ridiculous is an understatement.”
“Substitute radiation for ‘weird gas’, and we’re like Spider-man!”
“Or the Hulk,” Dan muttered darkly.
Silence fell once again at that, the negative implications of this beginning to sink in as their disbelief faded.
“What if it was just a one-time thing? A freak accident, or we’re on drugs and none of this is real, something like that?” Dan asked.
“Dunno. We could try to do it again, what made it happen the first time?”
“Well, I was reaching over to you, trying to get you to quit freaking out?”
Dan sat up on the bed, feeling a sort of warm pressure on the backs of his shoulders. It was like a tiny push, an intense curiosity he couldn’t make sense of, for some reason. He reached out to Phil and gently placed a hand on his arm-
Immediately, the edges of his vision were flooded with the same colors and images as before, still to vague and quickly flashing to fully make out, (He was standing on the ledge of Phil's back garden wall, toes hanging over the edge.) and his brain echoing with thought. (Phil stood behind him, holding up the camcorder with a shy smile. "Come on, just this last clip for the presents part, then we can go in and warm up for a bit.”) More of that curious warm sensation he had felt was moving from his shoulders to gather around his jaw and throat. (The curious, anxious feeling curled around his throat like a scarf as his toes dangled off the wall and Phil recited the lines he’d come up with.) The colors faded after a short while and Dan began to feel dizzy, but he kept a firm hand on Phil and stared straight into his friend’s eyes. He could make out parts of individual thoughts now.
‘Feels like… afraid…’
‘Spider-man…’
‘Dan… tight grip’
(Dan fell face first into the snow.)
Dan realized how tightly he was grabbing at Phil’s upper arm and dropped it like he had been burned. A wave of vertigo rushed over him, and he sat back on the edge of his bed to wait for it to go away. Phil sighed heavily beside him.
“That was-” Dan started, before realizing he didn’t know how that sentence might end. Of all the words in the English language, he couldn’t find one to describe what had just happened.
“Yeah.”
The two sat quietly, TV droning softly on in the background, in the way only friends as close as they were could. The quiet wasn’t awkward or tense, merely an understanding that neither knew quite what to say yet, and that for now, lack of communication was okay.
“So it wasn’t a one-time thing, then.”
“Apparently not.”
“What does it feel like to you?” Phil asked, cocking his head slightly to one side. Curiosity tugged at Dan’s shoulder blades again.
“Like… a rush of colors, at first. Then I get really dizzy, like I’m about to fall over. But then it clears- no, lightens up a bit. I feel all sorts of emotions, but in a way that’s almost physical? Then I was able to hear parts of your actual thoughts, you thought I was holding onto your arm too tight or something, so that’s why I jumped away so suddenly.”
Phil’s eyebrows knit together. “I get a lot of that too, the dizziness and colors. The physical emotions thing as well, the first time it felt like it was sort of covering me up, like a blanket or something. Just now, it was more like it was pushing me.”
“I got that last one too. The first one was more like… I dunno really how to describe it, like a sort of weight pushing down around my head? I think that one was worry, you were thinking about our house being filmed and stuff. And the one from just now, curiosity or something? It sort of feels like I can still feel it now, even though we’re not touching.”
“Both of those sound about right, but I definitely can’t feel anything now. What about the other times? Can you just do it with anyone around?” Phil paused, then dropped his head to his hands. “This is so weird.”
“I dunno. This whole thing just feels like a dream.”
“I am a bit tired.”
“Maybe if we go to sleep, everything will be normal again?”
Summary: Dan and Phil are the heirs of Enigmaity and Illumination, two kingdoms at war for longer than anyone can remember. Magical attacks neither light nor dark have been destroying both worlds, leaving nothing behind except a bright red balloon. Phil is forced to flee and asks for Dan's help, but alliances aren't so easily kept and promises are quick to be broken. With the moon and sun at war, sunset is fast approaching and all they can do is hope.
A/N: A million kudos to my beta for fixing every typo (of which there were many) and patching up the plot holes. Whenever I felt unmotivated you messaged me asking if there was anything you could to to help and offered encouragement, which fought off the procrastination and made me feel inspired again. Thank you to my artist for helping me with my plot when I backed myself into a corner and planning our escape to Canada. I never would’ve been able to finish if it hadn’t been for your help.
tw; death, violence, torture
Word Count: 19213
Golden (original song by internetwashere)
First Part from last PBB
Glossary:
Enigmaity - The world of darkness and shadows; Dan’s home.
Illumination - The opposing world of light; Phil’s home.
Iniquiter - People from Enigmaity
Illuminator - People from Illumination
The balloon hung suspended in the air, red as the crimson of blood and just as unwanted. The ground was black, charred remains of roads and grass crunching under each step. The village was abandoned, houses burnt and inhabitants vanished. Everything was black, save for the bright red balloon.
Phil Lester sucked in his upper lip, tipping his head towards the sky. His fists balled at his sides, and a frown creased his forehead. Illumination was the world of light and home to the Illuminators, those who had the power of light magic amongst other things. Given that, the sky of Illumination was always lit up. During the day it was by the sun, and by night it was the full moon. The sky had been created by magic a long time ago, and nothing bad ever managed to dim its light.
Nothing until now.
As he watched a black spot danced across the surface of the sun, growing bigger and bigger by the moment. A shadow descended over the ruined village, making his surroundings glow with a light he’d only seen once before; long ago in another kingdom far away. Panic began to knot his gut, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
While Phil was well aware everyone else would pin the blame on the Iniquiters, he was skeptical. After having spent time with Dan, he doubted their magic was powerful enough to do something like this. In all the reading he’d done he’d never heard of anything that could black out the sun.
“Your Highness?”
“Yes?” Phil tore his gaze away from the sky, leveling it at his guard. Alaric had been a soldier for longer than he could remember, serving the kingdom like his father and his father before that.
“Perhaps we--you should consider returning to the manor. Something’s wrong with the sun.”
“So I can see,” Phil said not unkindly. “Don't worry, we’re safe. For now.” The words were empty, a meaningless promise he had no idea if he could keep, but Alaric seemed satisfied. “You're right in that we should return to the manor, however.”
He turned to face the rest of the guards. “We will report back to my parents immediately.”
“Do you want the balloon?”
“Leave it.” Phil started walking, rightly assuming that the others would follow. “We have enough back home.”
The castle had an entire room dedicated to the balloons, bouncing off of ceilings and knocking against the windows. For the first two hundred attacks, the guards had rounded up the balloons and brought them back for inspection. By the thousandth attack, Phil had stopped bothering. The inspection had never yielded anything useful, and the best anyone could figure was that it was the attacker’s signature.
The King and Queen stood at the entrance of the room, concern creasing their brows. Phil couldn’t help but feel on display under their gazes, and his fingers knot and unknot behind his back. They might be his parents, but when it came to the kingdom it was impossible to seem them as anything other than Illuminators rulers. “The village was destroyed. The remains were nearly identical to the other ruins.”
“The stench of Iniquiters couldn't be more obvious,” his father snarled, anger stealing over his expression and wiping it clean of anything else. “We cannot allow them to walk over us in this manner.”
“I'm not sure if it is the Iniquiters,” Phil said cautiously. “There's also the matter of the sun, and I don't believe they're capable of such magic.”
“No disrespect meant,” his mum began. “But you're hardly the authority on their powers. There's much we don't know about them, and this certainly seems a level of cruelty they would stoop to.”
“But last year when I was with Dan--” Phil stopped, words catching in his throat at the glare from his father. A year ago Phil had struck up an alliance with the heir of Enigmaity and his sworn enemy, Dan Howell. The two had eventually become friends, and Dan had saved his life in a fire that nearly killed them both.
Phil had broken him out of the palace dungeons and sent him back to Enigmaity, and though no one had ever been able to prove his involvement he’d been under watch ever since. He had admitted that he and Dan had become allies and that he owed the Iniquiter his life, but he’d claimed it was to defeat a ‘greater evil’ and omitted the greater details of their relationships. Including the kiss. Especially the kiss.
It was still a sore topic amongst him and his parents, though, and most of the time they pretended it had never happened.
“Your...uh hem--unfortunate encounter with that abomination isn't exactly a good basis for information. There's every likelihood he was lying to you about the extent of his magic,” his mum said, somehow still managing to sound elegant with words like ‘abomination.’
Phil's first instinct was to protest, to argue that the only magic he’d witnessed of this magnitude was the arsonist who’d tried to kill him, but instead he bowed his head and nodded. Questioning his parents never ended in anything good. “Of course mother,” he said. “As usual, you're right. What do you suggest we do next?”
“We double the guard around our borders. Send more men to earth. Any Iniquiter spotted is killed on sight, and if the royal family is found they’re to be brought in for questioning,” his father said. “Alive, but not necessarily unharmed.” His eyes glittered with something cold and hard, and though the thoughts are traitorous and it's not his place concern for Dan flickered in Phil’s mind.
“And you,” the Queen turned to Phil, gaze unwavering. “Are not to go anywhere without being accompanied by Alaric and at least three of his most trusted.”
Phil’s mouth fell open. “But mum--”
“You are crown prince, Philip,” his mother continued. “Stop acting like a petulant child. The future of Earth and Illumination depend on your safety and wellbeing, and no matter how many temper tantrums you throw that is not going to change. Do you understand?” Her voice dropped in volume, a gentler tone stealing some of the hardness from her words. “You’re my son, and if something were to happen to you.” The sentence cut off abruptly, but the point was still clear.
“Yes, mum,” Phil said quietly. It was hard enough seeing his parents as anything other than the King and Queen, but sometimes he forgot they were human, too.
…
Chris Kendall was the son of his mother’s lady - in - waiting. He and Phil had been born only months apart, and throughout the years they'd all but grown up together. For the past year they'd taken to sparring with each other--no magic, just swords. Currently, the two were engaged in a record breaking fight: going on four and a half hours.
A match of which Phil was currently losing. “Fight me,” he said sarcastically, blocking another attack.
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Bit redundant, isn't it? Seeing how that's what we’re doing already?” Phil grunted, unable to think of a witty retort and unwilling to waste the breath. “Cat got your tongue?” Chris smiled, guard relaxing unconsciously. It was only for a fraction of a second, but that's all Phil needed.
Phil’s sword tapped Chris’s chest as the other boy’s weapon clattered to the floor. “You talk too much,” he said. It wasn’t intended to be accusatory, merely an admission of truth, and thankfully Chris took it as such.
“Probably,” he shrugged, a sheepish grin splitting his face. “I've been told it's endearing, however.”
“It's going to get you killed someday.”
“Better to go out with a ‘fuck you’ then no ‘fuck you’ at all.” Chris unceremoniously kicked his sword in the general direction of its sheath, collapsing in a sweaty heap. “I'm done.”
Phil should probably be on the ground beside him, winded and exhausted, but instead all he feels is irritated and like a coil wound too tightly. “One more?”
“No.” Chris shook his head. “I'm too tired. Tomorrow, maybe.”
“Suit yourself.” Phil flicked his wrist, and his sword vanished. While Chris preferred to use the swords provided by the training room, Phil liked to make his own. He'd had enough practice fashioning weapons out of light that he could do it in his sleep, and they tended to suit him better than those made by someone else.
Chris frowned. “Who stuck a stick up your ass?”
“Nothing. No one. Shut up.”
Chris had his high points, and the ability to drop a subject and move on was one of Phil’s favorites. “You doing anything for the holidays?”
Illumination and Enigmaity were two worlds separate from Earth but assigned to be its guardians. Though most Illuminators weren't religious, Christmas was a holiday they'd picked up from the humans and adapted as their own. Less Christ, more alcohol and gift giving. His parents used to insist on throwing a ball each year in celebration, but given the stress everyone was under Phil wasn’t sure if that was going to happen this year.
“I don't know yet. Nothing, probably. You?”
“A few of us were thinking about going out,” Chris said.
Phil eyed him suspiciously. “Sarah?” Chris had had a crush on Sarah Anderson for the past three years, but he’d had yet to ask her out.
Chris’s answered with a sly smile “Maybe. You should come with us.”
“Whose house is it at?”
The smile vanished. Chris rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Um...actually, it’s a party down on Earth. So.”
Phil stiffened, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Chris--”
“I know, I know, ‘dangerous times’ and ‘illegal’ and ‘ill advised’ and ‘blah blah, royal duties.’” Chris rolled his eyes, releasing a sigh. “I don’t know mate, I’m tired of all this secrecy and Iniquiter crap. It’s Christmas, God forbid I want to have fun for a few hours. We’ll be in and out before anyone notices. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound better than rotting away in here and stewing in your own juices.”
Phil could feel his resolve start to crumble. “In and out?”
“In and out.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in defeat. “Fine. Where are we meeting?” Chris’s smile was impish, and despite himself Phil felt the faintest hint of excitement. It was only for one night, a few hours at the most, and Illumination was heavily guarded and had the King and Queen at attention. What was the worst that could happen?
…
Phil stood in front of his mirror, fiddling with the tie around his neck. With his pressed slacks, collared shirt, tie, and overcoat, he was afraid he was overdressed. Then again, it was Christmas, so surely humans were dressier than usual, right? Blending in was essential; the number one rule of Illumination (aside from killing any Iniquiter in sight) was to never give humanity any reason to suggest they were anything but.
Chris barged into his room, wearing a tie and button up shirt of his own. The effect was somewhat undermined by the hideous, bright pink jumper that was three sizes too big. Orange snowflakes patterned the front, and at the bush of a button colored fairy lights began to flash. He waggled his eyebrows at Phil. “What do you think?”
“This is your idea of blending in?”
Chris grinned. “You think it’ll grab Sarah’s attention?”
“That’s not the only thing it’ll grab,” Phil muttered, slipping on his shoes. He held out his arms, spinning in a mocking imitation of a human celebrity. “Thoughts?”
Chris eyed him up and down, whistling. “Stunning Philip, simply stunning,” he deadpanned. He slung an arm around Phil’s shoulder, ruffling his hair. “Seriously, you look fine. No one would ever be able to tell the difference between you and some human schmuck. The ladies will be throwing themselves at your feet. Or men if you’d prefer.”
Phil pushed him away, trying in vain to salvage his hair. “I hate you.” He followed Chris down the stairs and towards the shed out back. In an attempt to avoid suspicion, he, Chris, Sarah, James, Lucy, and Beth had agreed on a meeting place and left Illumination in pairs throughout the day. He and Chris were the last two to leave, and as they neared the portal he could make out the figure of two guards. Phil straightened his spine, holding his chin up high and making his strides as confident as he could.
“We require temporary passage out of the kingdom,” he said calmly, meeting the eyes of one of the guards, a woman named Alex. She was junior only to Alaric, Phil, and his parents, the dark blue belt signifying her rank.
“Your highness,” she said, inclining her head. “For what purpose?”
“My mother and father requested that I deliver a message to our embassy stationed on Earth,” Phil answered. “Chris is attending me as further protection.”
“What’s the message?”
Phil smiled, tight and thin lipped. “That information is confidential. You would need to ask the King or Queen. They’re in a council meeting,” he added. She squinted up at him, knuckles white on the hilt of her sword. She couldn’t seem to find anything wrong with his request, and finally she stepped aside. Phil murmured his thanks, stepping into the wall and vanishing. There was the moment of disorientation he always associated with portal travel, and he snapped his fingers. A flame danced to life, flickering on the tops of his fingers and lighting the passageway.
Chris stepped up to stand beside him, pointing. “Take the normal route to Earth, I'll show you where to go once we get there.”
Phil nodded, free hand instinctively hovering over his knives as they walked. Time was always warped during portal travel. Journeys that seemed like hours took seconds, and seconds can take days. There was a popular fairytale about a man who’d gone mad trying to find his way home. Getting lost had never been a fear of his, he’d grown up roaming the portals, but it was still disconcerting to emerge at your destination and realize only seconds had passed. Their exit loomed ahead, the flashing lights looking more like a rave and less like a Christmas party. Then again, maybe they were the same thing.
Chris clapped him on the back. “The punch is almost definitely spiked, if you’re going to go for alcohol find a beer. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“I left my ugly jumper at home, sorry.” Chris’s jumper was already starting to attract some odd looks, and he hadn’t even broken out the flashing lights.
The boy looked mildly affronted. “Try and have some fun, yeah?”
“I always have fun.”
“If you consider studying and constant training fun.”
Phil rolled his eyes. He caught sight of black, glistening hair pulled into a bun. The girl was unmistakably Sarah, her silver dress blending in far better than Chris’s attire. He shoved Chris in her direction. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned against the wall, finding that he was absentmindedly biting his thumbnail. If he was going to risk getting in trouble, a party wouldn’t be the first thing he’d sneak off to, but the various Illuminators positioned around the room seemed to be enjoying themselves. A blonde haired girl gave him a warm smile as she passed, and Phil returned it briefly. Might as well try and make some new acquaintances, new connections never hurt.
He wasted a few hours seeing how many chocolates he could fit in his mouth at one point in time. (The record was twelve so far.) Chris gave him a few updates every now and then, and occasionally one of the other Illuminators would engage him in conversation, but for the most part he tried to blend into the wall. He collapsed into one of the chairs, checking his watch. One more hour and he was free.
“Don’t look now, but there’s mistletoe overhead.” The words were dry, the voice familiar and instantly recognizable.
Phil stiffened, turning to face the smile of PJ Liguori. “What are you doing here?” This wasn’t the first time he’d run into the Iniquiter, but their encounters tended to happen at the most unexpected times. He knew PJ’s presence should be a cause of alarm, an immediate evacuation and capture to follow, but nothing had ever come of their meetings and PJ had never struck him as being particularly threatening. PJ was a friend of Dan’s from Enigmaity, and had helped Phil break Dan out of the dungeons last year.
“It’s Christmas,” PJ said. “I’m planning on consuming copious amounts of alcohol until I forget about the paperwork I have left to file. You don’t have to kiss me by the way, don’t worry. I think a certain friend of mine wouldn’t like it very much if we did.”
“Are you here alone?” Phil asked, ignoring PJ’s second statement.
“You mean is Dan here? No. Now that he’s for all intents and purposes the King, he’s usually too busy for things like this.”
The twinge of disappointment Phil feels is unrelated. “I take it the Queen is still missing?”
PJ nodded. “We’ve been getting by. Dan’s held it together surprisingly well.”
“I’m not surprised,” Phil said. He wasn’t sure why he was jumping to Dan’s defense, and the knowing smirk PJ sent his way didn’t help.
“I think he’s given up at this point,” PJ confessed. “It’s been ages since he’s slept through the night, and some of the council members are giving him hell. I think he’s afraid the kingdom is going to stage a full on rebellion.’
“Is that likely to happen?”
PJ shrugged. “Dan thinks so. It’s driving him a little mad.”
“I thought you said he was holding it together.”
“‘Surprisingly well’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘well.’ This is Dan.”
“Let me know if--” Phil frowned, clamping his lips shut and biting the words back.
“If you can help?” PJ’s eyes held a glimmer of pity. They both knew that if anyone found out about their friendship execution would be the penalty for their treason. That didn’t mean Phil had to like it, though. “I’ll tell him. What about you? How're you holding up?”
“Fine,” Phil said. “Stressed, but that's normal given my parents. You?”
“Things are less than ideal,” PJ said, expression grim. “Everyone’s under a lot of stress but we’ll survive. Always have.”
“Don't jinx it,” Phil said. “Knock on wood.” PJ reached behind him and rapped the wall with his knuckles.
This was typically as deep as their conversations went: making sure the other was still alive, the kingdoms hadn’t collapsed, and Dan was mostly functional.
Someone tapped Phil on the shoulder, Chris stepping into his line of vision. “We’re getting ready to leave soon and--” he stopped mid sentence, surveying PJ curiously. “Who’s this?”
“Jimmy,” PJ said smoothly, shaking Chris’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Chris. Do you two know each other?”
“We go way back,” PJ said, smiling innocently. He inclined his head in Phil’s direction. “It was good seeing you Phil. Chris.” It was likely his imagination, but as PJ walked away it looked as though the shadows rose to swallow him whole.
“How come we’ve never met before?” Chris asked.
“Human friend,” Phil said vaguely. “You know how it is. Are we leaving?”
“You are. With Beth.”
“Would I be correct in assuming you’re leaving with Sarah?”
“You would. Are.” Chris was bouncing on the soles of his feet, beaming.
Phil smiled. It seemed like happiness was a rare emotion these days, and it was refreshing to see his friend so excited. “I’ll see you back home.”
…
Illumination was overflowing with chaos. By the time Phil had found Beth, Chris and Sarah were leaving, and the four had decided to travel together. It could trigger some awkward questions, but the alternative was returning even later and sparking panic. The foursome stepped out to find the world in flames.
The castle was burning, fire dancing up and down the walls. The council stood outside, hands outstretched and brows laced with sweat. They didn't seem to be having any effect on the fire, though. A hand clapped Phil on the shoulder, and he spun to find Alaric standing with his sword drawn. His brow was furrowed, frown deepening.
“What happened?” Phil asked, voice escalating. He flattened his palms against his trousers, an unsuccessful attempt to stop their trembling. “My parents, are they alright? I need to speak with them.”
Sympathy replaced Alaric’s frown, and something sank in the pit of Phil’s stomach. “I'm sorry.”
Chris startled, eyes widening. “They aren’t--”
“I’m afraid we don’t know,” Alaric said grimly. “The fire won’t go out.” Sarah reached for Chris’s arm, and if the circumstances had been any different Phil would’ve ribbed him mercilessly. With every new piece of information, Phil felt his world crumble a little more. The whole affair, black fire, mass panic, and absent parents were a repeat of the events a year ago. The only thing missing was Dan. And this time his parents were actually missing, not just bad at parenting.
Phil straightened, allowing his training to kick in and assuming the guise of princely control as he as he could. “The fire is a lost cause for the moment,” he said. “Gather the remaining council members and tell them to meet me in the library.”
“Won’t it continue to spread?” Beth asked. She appeared to be the calmest out of the lot of them, and Phil briefly entertained the idea of putting her in charge instead.
“Not as quickly as normal fire,” Phil said. “Last time it seemed to mostly stay contained within the castle.”
“How did you put it out then?” Sarah asked. Her knuckles were white where they gripped Chris.
Phil hesitated. “Painfully,” he said finally. He and Dan had barely managed to extinguish it together, and that was using both Illuminator and Iniquiter magic. “I’ll take a look at it once everyone is out of the way. I may be able to utilize some of the same techniques I did previously.” It’s bullshit--he has no hope of success and a mass evacuation to Earth is probably in order, but everyone else seems to buy it and that’s all that matters. Alaric nodded, disappearing into the crowd.
Chris turned toward Phil expectantly. “What can we do to help?”
“Nothing,” Phil said firmly. The last thing he needed was for Chris, Beth, and Sarah to end up dead too. “Go with Alaric. I'm appointing you ruler in my absence.”
For once, the boy looked lost for words. “Wait--seriously?”
“The council might put up a fuss, but I'm crown prince and there's no one I trust more.”
“Besides, it's not like it's permanent. You'll be back after the fire’s out, right Phil?” Phil was silent. Chris’s eyes narrowed. “Right Phil?”
“Of course.” Looking mollified, Chris nodded and followed Sarah and Beth towards the library.
Phil watched them leave, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. He approached the castle, reaching for the flames. Dan had absorbed the fire and gave it a new target. The effort had nearly killed him, and Phil’s best guess was to try something similar.
The embers were freezing, radiating a burning cold that he felt all the way up his arm. He closed his eyes, inhaling. His left hand clenched into a fist, the flames dancing up his arm and sinking into his bones. Startled shouts almost broke his concentration, and he cracked open an eyelid.
The fire was almost gone, the remainder disappearing into his hand. Everything was cold, Phil’s arm feeling less like an arm and more like an ice cube. He gritted his teeth, doubling over as the last of the flame dissipated. He wrapped an arm around his stomach; a pitiful attempt at staying warm.
The only thing he could think was heat. Fire sparked to life, spreading across his clothes and falling to the ground. It was a different kind of fire, though, Illuminator fire, and as Phil sank down into the center of it he felt the cold begin to melt.
His shirt was slightly singed, and he rubbed a shard of ice out of the corner of his eye. He stumbled to his feet, pressing a hand to his forehead. He had no idea how he'd managed to do it, but somehow he'd extinguished the fire without dying or even passing out. While it was possible his powers had grown some over the past year, there was no way they could've increased this much by any natural means.
“Your highness?”
Phil forced his posture to stiffen, chin high as he faced Alaric. “Yes?”
“Is everything alright?” The guard had a look of deep concern, hand hovering over his sword as if the threat was something he could vanquish with force.
“Yes,” Phil said, because somehow everything was. “Is the council ready?” Alaric nodded. Phil sighed, blinking away the black spots flickering behind his eyelids. “Best not keep them waiting,” he said. “Patience never was their strong suit.”
…
Phil hated waiting. The castle was still being repaired, so meetings had to be held in the library. He’d been locked inside for the past week, debating the legality of his leadership and the next steps to finding his parents.
When he was younger he'd thought being King would mean doing whatever he wanted, sleeping in, and practicing with his favorite sword every day. Past Phil had chosen to ignore the less exciting parts of kingship like meetings and waiting for the verdict of the council.
The biggest issue seemed to be whether he was qualified to rule Illumination while the King and Queen were missing. Phil was less than a year underage, which some argued made him ineligible and others said was close enough.
From what PJ had told him, appointing Dan as Enigmaity’s King hadn't been much of a struggle. Phil only wished Illumination’s decision was so quick. They were wasting time they could be using to find his parents. Personally, he felt like he was the most capable out of any of the other candidates; he had been training for it his whole life.
The council had kicked Phil outside to wait while they came to a consensus. He'd been waiting for wait seemed like hours, and all he’d gotten was radio silence.
“Any luck?” The question came out of nowhere, and only his training stopped Phil from jumping out of his skin. Chris had a habit of appearing out of thin air, and more than once Phil had threatened to put a bell on him.
“Nothing yet. I'm going to try and interpret that as a positive sign.”
“Cheer up,” Chris said. “They’d be stupid not to let you rule, you're our prince. Who could possibly be more prepared than you?”
“Alaric maybe,” Phil said. “He’s been dealing with this stuff for decades. Or Alex if he refused.”
“Why would he?” Chris’s question was rhetorical, but Phil answered regardless.
“I can think of several reasons.”
“Still, they'll make the right choice. I know it.” Chris seemed strangely confident, a knowing smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth.
Phil leveled a glare at the Illuminator. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything?”
“I did.”
“I'm not saying I did, but I might have possibly bugged Jefferson?”
“Chris!”
“Hypothetically!” Chris backpedaled. “I've never been caught before.”
“Before?”
“You didn't hear anything.”
Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't really surprised, Chris was infamous for his pranks and knowing things he wasn't supposed to. “What are they saying?” he asked grudgingly.
Chris fished around in his pocket, pulling out a lone earbud. “Hear for yourself.”
The voices were surprisingly clear.
“This isn't even a question! Philip is the last Lester and should be allowed to rule his family’s kingdom.”
“He’s underage!”
“By a few months. He’ll have Alaric, Alex, and the council by his side. By appointing another ruler, even temporarily, it gives grounds for someone to challenge Philip for the crown when he does turn eighteen. He’s proven himself to be a good, selfless Illuminator more than once.”
“What about Daniel?” At the council member’s question, Phil felt Chris tense beside him. He ignored the questioning look from his friend.
“What about him?”
“They say that he and Philip are lovers.” Phil choked on his own spit.
“They say. I say differently. There's no proof to that rumor.”
“All in favor of Philip Lester claiming the throne and ruling Illumination say ‘aye.’”
A resounding ‘aye’ from the council members, then “Who wants to tell our new King the good news?”
Phil yanked the earbud out, dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his boot. Chris gave him a wounded look, bending down to pick up the pieces.
“Thanks mate.”
“Sorry.”
“You don't seem happy,” Chris noted.
“I’m over the goddamn moon,” Phil said sarcastically. “Except that everyone apparently thinks I'm fucking an Iniquiter, Dan Howell no less, and I might have a full scale rebellion on my hands!”
“You good?”
Phil took a deep breath. “No,”
Chris smiled sympathetically. “For what it's worth, I don't think you're screwing Dan. If anyone tries to assassinate you I'll eviscerate them.”
“Thanks Chris.”
The boy shrugged. “You know how stupid I've always thought this whole ‘Illuminator against Iniquiter’ business is. I'll gladly serve you.” He gave a bow that was a little too deep tipping an invisible hat.
“You may rise Sir Kendall,” Phil said grandly, his laugher somewhat ruining the effect. “Knight of Illumination.”
A rebellion against Illuminator’s royal family hadn't happened for centuries, and it had been the Lesters that had emerged as the new monarchs. Phil only hoped that would prove to be the case if history was doomed to repeat itself.
…
The bells were ringing. They were used as an alarm system, a call to arms during a time of danger. Shouts echoed through the manor as the Illuminators redied their weapons. Phil summoned his knives, peaking around the corner of his room. There was only one likely cause for their sounding, and that was the people staging a revolt.
Alaric raced past him, sword already drawn. “Stay in your room, your majesty.”
“What's going on?” Phil asked.
Alaric grimaced. “Some of the Illuminators believe that they would make better rulers than you.”
“What do you think?” Alaric was the best swordsman out of anyone in the kingdom, if he tried to attack Phil he wasn't sure he stood a chance.
“I serve the crown,” Alaric said, bowing his head. “And I serve its rightful monarchs, your family.”
Phil smiled. “We’re lucky to have you. Stay safe.”
“And you as well.” Alaric returned the smile before turning and disappearing outside. Phil waited until he was out of sight before following.
Outside the mob was locked in combat with those who were loyal to him. He was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the palace guards were fighting in his defense.
He spotted Chris a few meters away, engaged in combat with a farmer he vaguely remembered seeing at the last market. Phil ran down the steps and plunged into the foray, knocking the farmer out cold.
Chris looked disgruntled. “I had it covered,” he grumbled. Phil opened his mouth to reply, but a yell cut through the din.
“There he is!”
Chris snarled, sweeping his sword in a wide arc. A few Illuminators jumped back, but not nearly enough.
“You're no more our King than I am!”
“Traitor!”
“Filthy Inquiter lover!”
Magic surged through Phil, flooded with adrenaline. He had felt power before, but it was nothing compared to this. Fire raged and people collapsed with a snap of his fingers. He tried not to kill anyone, knocking them unconscious instead, but it took twice as long as there were so annoy of them.
A bullet soared out of the crowd, aimed directly at his heart. Instinctively, Phil threw his arms up to shield himself.
The effect was instantaneous. A wave of magic ripped through the crowd, knocking buildings down and ripping tree from their roots. Without thinking, Phil lunged for Chris, knocking him down and covering his body as best as he could. All around them Illuminators were blasted backwards, screams for help blanketing the air.
A bright flash struck the kingdom, a sonic boom crashing through the forest. Phil squeezed his eyes shut, hoping Chris was doing the same. There was deafening silence in it’s wake, and Phil was afraid to look.
Dread warred with apprehension, and he opened his eyes. Corpses lay scattered over the courtyard, blood still pooling around their forms. The combination of light, sound and magic had mutilated their bodies into a distorted imitation of human flesh, the sort of mishapen drawing a three year old would make.
Phil pressed a shaking hand to his mouth, stumbling to his feet. Alaric lay beside him, sword still in his hand. He dropped to his knees and pressed a hand to Alaric’s pulse. Nothing. He moved back towards Chris, sending a silent prayer to whatever deity might exist that his attempts to shield the boy had worked.
At first he couldn't feel anything. Horror paralyzed him, rooting him in place and consuming all logical thought. He kept his fingers pressed to Chris’s neck, and finally he felt the faintest thumping. Phil exhaled, pressing a hand to his friend’s forehead and summoning his magic.
He was far from a physician, but he healed Chris’s injuries as best as he could, and stood. He caught sight of Sarah’s hair before averting his eyes. Maybe it was cowardly, but the sight of his dead people, of his friends, was one he didn't think he’d ever be ready for.
Phil ran. He slammed into the portal, sprinting blindly down the corridors. The way was one that he would've forgotten if it hadn't been the path that also led him to Dan. And it was to the Iniquiter that he ran now, because Phil needed help and he was a coward. The people had been right--he was no King.
…
Phil had only been to Enigmaity briefly, and for most of the time he’d been trapped in a net. The darkened sun and shadowed landscape were instantly recognizable, however, and if he squinted he could see the castle in the distance. Hand on his knives, he began to head in the direction of the path. Last time, there hasn't been anyone guarding the border, and it didn't look like much had changed.
He stepped forwards tentatively, starting towards his destination slowly.
“Halt! Who dares trespass in Enigmaity?” The Iniquiter had a blade at Phil’s throat before he could blink, gray eyes sharper than her sword.
Phil’s mouth was dry, hands raising in the universal sign of surrender. “Alexander Harrison,” he said calmly. “I come bringing news of the Queen.” He’d hoped his words would put her at ease, but they seemed to have the opposite effect.
“What might that be?”
“That's classified, I’ll need an audience with Da--Prince Daniel. I hope you can understand the disastrous effects it could have if it was to spread.”
Her mouth twisted into a sneer. “I'm afraid I possibly couldn't Philip Lester. What, did you think we were stupid enough that we wouldn't recognize you?”
Phil’s brain was screaming at him. Abortmissionabortabort. He told it to shut up. “Look,” he began, trying a different tactic. “We’re on the same side.”
“Is that so?”
“We both want humanity to be safe, and…” Phil faltered. He'd been about to say that his parents were missing too, but that would reveal that Illuminators was vulnerable.
“And what?”
“And that's that,” he finished lamely. “Please, if you'd just let me talk to Dan--”
The woman backhanded him, Phil barely staying in place. He winced, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Like I’d ever let you anywhere near the prince. You will refer to him as such.”
“You really don't want to do this,” Phil pressed desperately. “The Illuminators--”
“Will have a hell of a time finding us,” she finished. “I not sure how you managed it, that's a mistake we’ll have to rectify.”
“The prince won't be happy once he finds out.”
“Who says he will?”
Phil stared the Iniquiter down. He sucked in a breath, trying to reach for the magic that had flowed from him back in Illumination; or any magic at all, really. There was nothing. His powers seemed to have run completely dry. Go figure.
“Move,” the woman barked. She pushed him forwards, sword still pressed to his neck. Her breath brushed his ear as she leaned closer. “If you try to run or put up a fight in any way, I'll slit your throat and rip your tongue out with my fingernails. Clear?”
“Clear,” Phil said, not daring to move his head. Unless someone miraculously stumbled upon them he had no hope of getting a message through to Dan. Maybe he could figure out a way out from the dungeons. If they were anything like the ones in Illumination it would be almost impossible, but empty hope was better than no hope at all.
…
Enigmaity’s dungeon was dark. It was darker than dark, blacker than Chris’s socks and just as revolting. It would've been bad enough if he’d simply been chained up, but instead he was strapped to a table and unable to budge a centimeter. The things that could happen in this position were nothing he wanted to think about, so he didn't. Everything about his current predicament was shitty.
He’d single handedly killed hundreds of his own subjects, and now he was stuck in the palace dungeons with no way to contact Dan, save his parents, or his kingdom. He trusted Chris if he still alive, but there was no guarantee that the rest of the Illuminators wouldn't rebel after everything that had happened. Maybe they should; they'd probably be a better king than he could ever be.
There was also the possibility that Dan knew he was here and had ordered his arrest, in which case he was completely and utterly screwed.
The door creaked open, hinges squealing. Phil cringed involuntarily, straining against the restraints. A subtle shift in the shadows was the only hint that he had a newcomer, and something told him it wasn't Dan.
“What do we have here?” There was a tutting noise, a clicking of the tongue and rustle of papers. “Oho, Philip Lester is it? You’ll have to forgive me, if I’d known I would be in the presence of royalty I would've put on my Sunday best. I’m William--I would shake your hand, but you seem a bit preoccupied.”
Phil scowled. “Does Dan know I'm here?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.
“Why, will he notice your absence?”
It was a trap, meant to trip Phil up and reveal that Dan was a traitor. Thankfully, he wasn't that stupid. “I have news of his mother, I assumed that was information he’d want to receive firsthand,” he answered as smoothly as he could in his position.
“Don't you fret your pretty head.” William’s fingers trailed down the side of Phil’s face, teasing in a way that made him feel a few breaths away from throwing up. “We’ll be hearing all about that, as well as any other information you have about Illumination. Something tells me it's a lot.”
William raised his hand. The knife gleamed in the dim lighting, what little light there was bouncing off the blade. Phil curled his hands into fists, forcing his eyes to stay open and trained on William. He was the Prince--no matter what happened he was representing his kingdom, too.
The knife burned as it sliced through his skin, blood spilling from the open wound and dripping into the waiting jar. He barely kept from crying out, teeth grinding together and silencing his shout for help. William grinned, a toothy, leering expression that frightened him more than the knife did.
Light poured from the cut, draining from Phil’s veins and into the jar. He focused his attention on it, eyes narrowing. Illuminator blood did supposedly contain sunlight, but he'd never seen any proof of it until now. As the light continued to disappear, fatigue begin to settle within his skin.
“What did you do?” he asked, voice shaking despite himself.
William didn't answer, humming to himself as the light and blood continued to seep out of his veins. “You won't be getting anywhere near the King, not on our watch,” he leered. William waved a hand over Phil’s wrist, a layer of cold stopping the blood.
“Is that what he wants?” Phil ventured.
“Rest up,” William said instead. A hand pressed against Phil’s chest, lingering. Bile rose, burning the back of Phil’s throat. He didn't like people touching him, especially when the people in question were creepy - ass torturers. “You’ll need it.”
Phil pressed his lips together, refusing to let anything escape as the knife clattered on the table and William left with the jar. He was alone again a few moments later, the dark pressing in all around him.
…
William’s visits were sporadic, some of the gaps seeming to take hours and others taking days. Phil hadn't eaten in ages, but every now and again William would give him a sip of water. He always gave Phil two injections, one of which he assumed held some version of nutrients. The other was a cold, black substance that made him shake and his brain freeze.
By the time William was finished, there were tubes filled with the glowing light he’d grown to associate with himself. And each time, Phil shattered a little more. It felt like pieces of him were breaking off, collapsing and splintering into a billion different fragments. Everytime he closed his eyes the empty, bloodied eyes of his people pressed against his eyelids.
He couldn’t hold himself together, what hope had he ever had of a kingdom?
The door swung open, gentle footsteps making their way towards the table. “Phil?” The word was incredulous, a gasp of wonder and horror merged into one perfect syllable.
“Dan!” Phil’s eyes flew open. He tilted his head as far back as he could reach, the Iniquiter’s face swimming before his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you, you spork,” Dan said. His eyes lit up with the smirk Phil saw every time he dreamed, and he swore that this was home.
Relief swamped every other thought that ran through Phil’s mind, and he felt nearly giddy. “How did you know I was here?” he asked.
Dan approached him, reaching out a hand for his cheek. “I could feel it. I can always feel you, Phil. We’re connected, you and I.”
“We are?” Not that Phil didn't appreciate the sentiment, but it wasn't a sentence he ever would've expected would come out of Dan’s lips.
The boy looked puzzled, forehead creasing. “I love you, Phil.”
Phil’s mouth was dry. He shook his head, hands curling into firsts. “You're not Dan. Not really.”
The hurt looked real enough that he almost believe it. But he didn't, because never in a million years would Dan ever feel the same way. “Phil…”
“You can skip the bullshit William,” Phil snapped. He turned his head away, closing his eyes. “I know it's you.”
A slow clap echoed around the room. The now familiar footsteps of William neared the table, and Phil opened his eyes. Dan had vanished, a curious, knowing glint in his captor’s expression.
“Very well done,” William said. “It takes most people twice as long to spot the difference. By that point,” he paused, smiling too sympathetically for it to be real. “Well, I won't trouble you with the details. You know what's really curious, though?”
“What?”
“For that particular spell, the person that appears is the one who matters most.” William picked up the knife, pressing his thumb to the tip. A line of blood dotted his finger. “Interesting, don't you think?”
Phil swallowed. “If you say so.”
“The real question, of course, is if our King feels the same way.” William raised an eyebrow. “What do you say we try and find out?”
…
Phil had lost track of the days. The disorientation felt almost like portal travel, but the loss of magic, restraints, and overall exhaustion felt very, very, different. Between William’s visits was a dark monotony of nothing that got colder each time. The man was visiting at the moment, although this trip seemed to be taking longer than usual.
“The attacks on our city,” William said. “Who is behind them?”
Phil frowned. “What attacks?” He was dismayed to hear his voice emerge as a rasping cough, but at least he still had a voice.
William sneered. His fist collided with Phil’s nose a second later. “Don't pretend you don't know! You lot always leave a balloon afterwards.”
“A balloon?” Phil’s mind was racing. He had been right. Enigmaity hadn't been behind the attacks in Illuminatiom because they were suffering them as well. “That's not us.”
The knife sliced through his skin, a jolt of pain shooting up his arm. “You can't lie to me, Philip. Tell the truth.”
“I am!”
“Lying filth.”
“I’m telling you the truth!”
“What's going on?” William froze, knife clattering to the ground at the interruption. The voice was familiar, a favorite song Phil hadn't heard in what seemed like forever. He exhaled, his eyes struggling to stay open as he met the gaze of the newcomer. Dan.
Recognition dawned in the Iniquiter’s eyes, and he staggered backwards. “Phil?” his voice was barely a whisper, but even after all this time it was still one of the most beautiful sounds Phil had ever heard. But then this could all still be a lie. “What are you doing here?”
Dan’s appearance had taunted him plenty, dangling the options of freedom and love in front of his nose, but this was the first time it had happened with William there. The sheer panic in William’s eyes made Phil believe that quite possibly the real Dan had come to save him.
William bowed, jerking his chin towards him. “You recall an investigation that began a few days ago?”
“Yes, but I was told that the interrogation was of a traitor.”
“It is,” he said frankly. “All Illuminators are traitors to our true cause; to protect humanity.”
Dan’s lips thinned. “Of an Iniquiter traitor. Within our ranks.”
“It must have been a communication issue,” William said smoothly. “I apologize for any distress it may have caused.”
“You are forgiven,” Dan said dismissively. “Let him go.”
William hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a cornered rat. “Are you sure Your Majesty’s judgement is the best concerning this matter?”
Dan looked thunderous. Dark eyes flashing, his hand reached for his axe. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“T-There are rumors,” William stuttered. “You and the Illuminator were, were working together once? Maybe you thought you were friends?”
“Rumors,” Dan said dismissively, though the hard edge to his tone left no room for argument. “Nothing more. Now release him.”
“But--”
“I said to release him.” William didn't move, and Dan lowered his voice. “If you haven't forgotten, I'm king in my mother’s absence. I can slit your throat before you have time to bow. Are you going to disobey a direct order?”
“No.”
“Good. And in case it slipped your memory, the Queen is my family. Out of anyone in this kingdom, I have the most reason to want her found. Do you doubt that?” William shook his head. “Do you think that I would do anything to hinder her rescue?”
“No.”
“No. Believe me,” Dan turned his glare on Phil, his stare cold and unrelenting. “I have my own plans for the Illuminator that are far worse than some half baked torture.”
“As you wish.” William snapped his fingers, and the chains binding Phil to the wall vanished. He pitched forwards, eyes fluttering shut. An arm was there to catch him, supporting his weight and hauling him upright.
“Are you okay?” Dan’s question was a whisper in Phil’s ear, masked by the movement of wrapping Phil’s arm around his shoulders.
“Fantastic. Five star establishment with great service,” Phil mumbled. The simple movement of talking hurt, and he settled for leaning against Dan. There was still the chance this was all one massive hallucination, but at least his arms felt free. Dan smelt warm, a surprisingly familiar smell given the circumstances, and Phil relaxed into it.
Dan quirked an eyebrow. “You Illuminators can never just say ‘thank you’ can you?”
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome. That wasn't so hard, was it?”
Phil was pretty sure his glare was less effective when he could barely keep his eyes open, but he gave it his best anyway. “Screw you Howell.”
“Is that any way to treat your King?”
“You're not my King.” He winced, shifting his weight to his right leg. “About those plans.” Black spots danced at the corners of his vision, no amount of blinking making them disappear.
“Phil?” Dan’s voice was filled with concern, and somehow Phil was lying completely in his arms. “You with me?”
Phil squinted up at the boy. Dan really was beautiful--for an Iniquiter at least. “Your eyes are pretty,” he said stupidly. He reached up and brushed the back of his hand against Dan’s cheek. And then he passed out.
…
Phil came to to find Dan’s face centimeters from his. Admittedly, it wasn’t the worst thing to wake up to, and a look of profound relief crossed Dan’s face.
“For a while I was afraid you weren’t going to wake up.”
Phil rubbed his eyes, sitting up. He was surprised to find that his injuries seemed to have healed, and he assumed he had Dan to thank for that. “Where are we?”
“My room,” Dan said, waving a careless hand at their surroundings. “Don't worry,” he added dryly. “I'm not going to take advantage of you.” Apparently Dan’s sarcasm hadn't lessened at all.
Phil relaxed, surveying Dan’s room curiously. Weapons hung from the walls, a few posters scattered between them. The dresser was white, a stark contrast to the black walls. Dan had taped stars to his ceiling, and Phil couldn't help smiling at the thought of a much littler Dan studying the constellations with a concentrated frown.
“What are you doing here?” Dan asked.
Phil blanched, swallowing. “Illumination is in trouble. We need your help--I need your help.”
Dan’s eyes hardened. “Why should I care?”
For some reason, Phil had never entertained the idea that Dan would turn him away. He wasn't sure what he would do if that happened. “Because. Once you needed help and I put aside everything to give it to you.” He took a deep breath and plunged forward, praying he wasn't overstepping his boundaries. “And I am your friend.”
Dan’s expression softened. “I know, Phil. And I know you know that. But they don't. How am I supposed to explain to my kingdom that their King has been going behind their backs for over a year conspiring with the enemy?”
Phil sighed. He should've known it was impossible for an alliance to succeed without any trouble. “You’re the King, couldn't you try explaining it to them?”
Dan laughed, a hollow, humorless sound. “Have you met an Iniquiter? Half the council are wealthy, old men who have only profited from the war and are unlikely to listen to reason. How do you think trying to explain it to your parents would go?”
“That wouldn't be a problem,” Phil said. “Seeing as they’ve been captured.”
Dan’s eyes widened. “I'm so sorry,” he said. His hand brushed Phil’s arm, a strangely comforting gesture. “Your Majesty.”
Phil grimaced. “Not so much. There’s been some trouble concerning the fact that I'm not of age yet.”
“That's bullshit,” Dan declared, nose wrinkling. “You're crown prince, what more do they want?” Phil shrugged. “Is that why you're here?”
“Partly. Illumination is suffering attacks that leave towns in ruins. The only thing left behind is a bright red balloon.” Dan made a curious sound in the back of his throat. “William mentioned that Engimaity was experiencing something similar.”
“Yeah, we are,” Dan released a breath, cheeks puffing out. “Is there anything else to these attacks?”
“Our sun is dying,” Phil said grimly. “Whoever is behind it has magic that's making it look like the sun in Enigmaity. The best I can figure is that it's related to our parents being kidnapped.”
“That's about all I have,” Dan said. “PJ and I have been working on a tracking spell using one of the balloons. If all goes well it should be finished soon. Who’s ruling Illumination in your stead?”
Phil paused. Alaric and most of the council members had been killed. He hadn't seen Alex amongst the fallen, but that didn't mean she was still alive. “One of the advisors,” he said finally.
Dan raised an eyebrow, but to Phil’s relief didn't press the subject. “Are you okay hiding here until the spell is finished?”
“Are you okay hiding me here?” Phil countered.
Dan smiled. “I wouldn't have offered unless I was sure,” he said lightly. “As long as we keep you out of sight it shouldn't be a problem. I didn't even know about your arrest, I doubt many other people know you're here.”
“William said something about ‘we’re not letting you anywhere near the King,” Phil said, frowning. “The guard that captured me made similar remarks about not telling you I was in Illumination.”
“What did the guard look like?” Dan asked.
“Female. Gray eyes, black hair. A little shorter than you.”
The crease between the Iniquiter’s brow deepened. “I’ll have PJ look into it. Is there anything that was confiscated you want back?”
“My armor,” Phil said. “I had a few things hidden in my pockets, although they were probably taken too.”
“I'll see what I can do,” Dan promised. “Stay here and rest up, your injuries aren't completely healed yet.” He turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. “It's good to see you, Phil. Even if it's not because of the reasons I’d like it to be.”
Phil smiled. “You too.”
…
“What else do we need?” The ingredients to the spell lay on the table in front of Phil. Dan stood to his left, finger moving down a list.
“Silver bowl, something belonging to our target, myrrh, water from the fountain in Enigmaity, essence of kraken, the only thing we’re missing is water from Illumination. Do you think you can get some for us?”
At Dan’s words all the air was sucked out of Phil’s lungs, similar to the feeling of being punched him in the gut. The thought of going home was terrifying, and “Sure,” he managed. “Of course. I’ll ask Chris.” If he was still alive.
Dan nodded. “We’ll need to use magic to activate the spell.”
“I’m not sure that's wise,” Phil said carefully. “My powers haven't been very reliable lately.”
Surprise flickered behind Dan’s eyes. “Neither have mine,” he confessed. “They've been completely out of control, actually, and it's only been thanks to PJ’s help that nothing has gone wrong so far.”
“Do you think it's linked to everything else?” Phil asked.
Dan snorted. “At this point? Probably.” The door creaked open behind him, and Phil tensed, preparing to hide. To his relief, PJ stepped into view, closing the door behind him and locking it. “We’ve talked about this, PJ,” Dan snapped, although the slight waver to his words gave away his own panic. “Knocking exists for a reason.”
“So do locks,” PJ retorted. He inclined his head in Phil’s direction. “Good to see you're still alive.”
“Next time it would be nice to know about the guards before trying to visit,” Phil said.
“I didn't think you were stupid enough to come, otherwise I would've.”
Dan’s head went back and forth, following their conversation with an increasingly confused look. “Have you two been seeing each other?”
“Here and there,” Phil said. “Usually not for very long.” Something flashed in Dan’s eyes that looked a lot like jealousy, though that could’ve just been wishful thinking.
“Thanks for telling me,” Dan said sarcastically. “Next time you talk with a sworn enemy try and remember to inform your King.”
PJ said something just as sarcastic in response, but Phil had checked out of the conversation. He closed his eyes, reaching for the magic that lingered just below the surface. A pen appeared in his hand, white and glowing. He grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling a quick explanation down and muttering “Chris.” He made a fist, the paper crumbling to ashes and falling to the ground.
Because he was a coward, maybe he could convince PJ to meet up with Chris and get the water in his stead.
“I found the guard who captured you,” PJ said, his words dragging Phil back to reality. “She’s being held in the dungeons for questioning.”
Dan nodded. “I’ll head down straight away. Will you be alright?” he asked, head tipping in Phil’s direction.
“Of course,” Phil said.
“I’ll stay with him,” PJ volunteered. “I wanted to catch up anyway.”
The same unreadable emotion flickered across Dan’s face. He shrugged. “Alright,” he said simply, disappearing without another word.
Phil’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?” he asked tentatively.
PJ looked startled. “With Dan and me? I thought you could tell.”
“Tell what?”
“Nothing,” PJ said dismissively. The gleam in his eyes suggested otherwise, however. “You're both being emotionally constipated twats, but that's no different than usual.”
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome. How are you, really?”
Phil made a noncommittal noise, picking at a loose thread in the sheet. “Fine. For someone who’s been tortured for the past few days at any rate.”
“Is that all?”
He glanced up sharply. “Why wouldn't it be?”
“I can’t picture you leaving Illumination for anything less than a drastic emergency.”
“My parents have been captured--”
“Which would only make you more likely to stay behind and look after the throne.” PJ’s head ripped to the side, green eyes narrow and analytical. “What happened, Phil?”
Phil swallowed, turning his head away. “Me.”
PJ clapped him on the shoulder, gaze softening. Phil was expecting the Iniquiter to press for more of an answer, but to his relief a hint of understanding flickered in the boy’s expression. He opened his mouth, a question lingering in the green of his eyes. Something “Don’t worry. You'll sort it out.”
“What makes you say that?”
PJ smiled. It was a strangely affectionate expression, and something about it seemed as if he knew things Phil didn't. “Because Dan likes you. And that's more than enough for me. I think this whole war is stupid anyway.”
“I do too. Do you know why it started originally?”
PJ shook his head. “No. I don't think anyone does. But Dan was telling me about the similarities between our worlds, and everyone knows how the portals were built. According to some legends, there are dead worlds scattered throughout the passageways of the portals. Apparently they were created by Walter and Margaret.”
Phil blinked, brain flooding with millions of questions. “Has anyone ever found one before?”
“Nothing that's been recorded. People have tried--hell I've given it a go once or twice. I’m assuming it's some kind of spell no one’s been able to figure out.”
The other worlds were nothing Phil had heard of before, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He filed the knowledge away for use later. It'd be something to tell his parents once he found them. He refused to acknowledge an alternative; as much as they got on each other’s nerves sometimes they were one of the only constants in his life.
There was no way they could be dead. It was inconceivable.
…
Phil had received a response from Chris the next day. His exact words were something along the lines of ‘of course I'll help you idiot where the hell are you and when are you coming back.” Phil had conveniently chosen to ignore the last two statements, and convinced PJ to go in his stead.
The Inquiter had given him a look, but thankfully caved without much complaint. While Phil wouldn't have minded proof that Chris was fine and well, he was more afraid than he was a good friend.
“Should it be taking this long?” Dan asked, worry pulling his mouth into a frown.
“He has to get past the borders without suspicion,” Phil reassured. Who he was trying to make feel better was anyone’s guess. If PJ got hurt because of his cowardice he didn't think he could ever forgive himself. “And so does Chris. It could take a while.”
Dan exhaled, hands fisting in his hair. “I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it.”
Without thinking, Phil reached up and grabbed Dan’s hand, fixing his fringe. “PJ can take care of himself. He’s a big, bad, scary, evil Iniquiter after all, remember?”
Dan snorted. “Right. Facing off with a power hungry egotistical Illuminator.”
“Only one of those statements is false,” Phil said. Dan laughed, some of the tension vanishing as his posture relaxed.
“The same could be said of PJ,” Dan said. “Except that underneath all of that he’s kind of a wimp. Don't tell him I said that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Phil promised. He mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. He moved to ruffle his hair, only to realize he was still holding Dan’s hand. He left things as they were.
“William has been removed from his position,” Dan said.
“What? Why?”
“I thought that would've been obvious,” Dan said. “Aside from how he treated you, he failed to tell the King that Philip Lester was in Enigmaity.”
“I guess he did kind of suck at his job, didn't he?” Phil asked. Dan squeezed his hand, fingers tightening. He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. “While I was...down there, I saw you. Over and over again it was you. You promised to set me free almost every time I opened my eyes, but it was never real.”
Dan’s gaze softened, and he reached for Phil’s other hand. “I'm here now. I'm real.”
“I know,” Phil said quietly. “But sometimes it's hard to tell for certain that this isn't some elaborate hallucination orchestrated by William. That would be the worst torture.”
Dan’s hand moved to cup Phil’s cheek, his thumb stroking the Illuminator’s cheekbones. The something more of what they were dangled in the air, tension dripping from every word. “I won't let anyone take you again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I won't let anyone take you, either. I'd give up my kingdom first.” Dangerous words, even more dangerous given that Phil meant them.
Dan inhaled, looking as though he was bracing himself. “Phil, I--” Movement flashed behind him, and Phil pressed his hand over the Iniquiter’s mouth.
“I think we’ve been spotted,” he said in a low voice.
Dan stiffened, hand moving towards his axe as Phil released his mouth. “Where?”
“The window.”
Dan slowly started to turn, eyes narrowing, when the door swung open. PJ stepped through, carrying a flask and wearing an exasperated expression. “Am I interrupting something?”
Dan scowled. “Knocking.”
“I tried. You seemed preoccupied so I let myself in.” PJ set the flask on the table, crossing his arms. “Chris wanted to know ‘why the hell that bitch didn't show up.’ I told you him you chickened out, which he agreed sounded a lot like you.”
“Thanks,” Phil muttered. “That was you outside the window, right?”
“This time. You two haven't been as subtle as you wish. Rumors have been flying that Philip Lester was spotted in our King’s chambers in increasingly compromising positions.”
Dan grew pale. “Has anyone given them any credence?”
“One of the counselors swore he saw Phil laying in your bed unharmed and unchained after he’d been removed for ‘vicious interrogation.’ It didn't help that William was arrested directly after Phil’s release.”
“After we enact the spell you're staying behind as acting King,” Dan said.
“Don't be stupid,” PJ said indignantly. “You won't last five minutes without me.”
“Neither will Enigmaity. And I'll have Phil.”
PJ frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “Fine. Try not to die, will you? I don't much fancy becoming King permanently.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “It's not a PJ ‘don't die’ speech without a sarcastic quip.”
Leaving the two to continue their banter in peace Phil grabbed the flask, uncorking it and pouring its contents into the silver bowl. He added the water from Enigmaity, a piece of the red balloon following. It was dissolved by the essence of kraken he added next, and he nodded in Dan’s direction. The Iniquiter picked up the Myrrh, the end bursting into flames with a snap of his fingers. It scattered into the air around them, scent strong and sweet.
Hopefully it would prevent their target from tracking them.
Phil picked up the silver knife, pushing uphold sleeve. He braced himself over the bowl, slicing a clean cut on the top of his arm. Blood dripped into the bowl, and for a few dizzying breaths he was still strapped to the table and it was William bleeding him. He blinked, the image disappearing. He exhaled shakily, quickly handing the knife to Dan. He ran his hand over the wound, and the skin was unblemished once more.
Maybe these flashbacks were meant to be his penance for the things he'd done.
A warm hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his thoughts, Dan’s concerned expression hovering at the edges of his vision. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Phil swallowed. “Peachy.” He handed the knife over, Dan giving his shoulder a final squeeze. Moments later Dan was back by his side, this time linking their fingers together.
“Ready?”
“As I'll ever be,” Phil said grimly. He grasped Dan’s other hand, their eyes locking. He grounded himself with the warmth in Dan’s expression as he reached for his magic.
…
“Watch where you're going buddy!” The man elbowed Phil to the side, his glower angry enough to rival any Iniquiter.
“Sorry,” Phil muttered. He hadn't been back to Earth since the party, and it was a little disorienting to say the least. It had been surprising to both he and Dan when the map pointed them towards Earth, although in hindsight it made sense in a poetic way. Wards had been put up directly around their destination, but they'd managed to portal a few miles out.
Dan glared at the man’s back. “Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” he grumbled.
Phil unsuccessfully tried to hide his smile. “I'm fairly certain he can't hear you.”
“Sanctimonious prick,” Dan scowled. “Sometimes I meet humans like him and I wonder what's so worth saving.”
Phil nudged the Iniquiter. He understood the joke, but it was impossible to resist a chance to mess with Dan. “The same could be said of Iniquiters. Particularly their Acting King. I've heard he can be a pain in the ass.”
Dan rolled his eyes, shoving him back. “I revoke my previous statement. The sanctimonious prick is right in front of me.”
“Technically I’m to the left.”
“Next time I’ll let the rude human decapitate you. See if I give a fuck.”
Phil snorted, shaking his head. “Do you think Lily is the one we’re tracking?” he asked.
“It makes sense,” Dan said. “Our old ‘friend’ from last year mentioned that she sent her regards--whoever she is. The important thing is how are we going to kill her?”
Phil blinked. “Kill her?”
“Phil, she’s attacked both of our kingdoms, screwed with our powers, kidnapped our parents, I hardly think mercy is the best course of action.”
“I know. It's just--” his words stumbled into silence, each word feeling more weighed down than the last. There was only so long he could keep his actions a secret, but the selfish part of him wanted to put off the inevitable disgust in Dan’s eyes for as long as he could.
Lily might be one of the few people that deserved what she got, but after all the people that had already died he wasn't sure he could take one more.
“Phil? What's wrong?” Dan sounded concern again, and Phil winced internally. The last thing he wanted was to cause him harm, yet that's all he seemed to do.
“Nothing,” Phil said nonchalantly. “I got lost in thought.”
Dan eyed him suspiciously, worrying his bottom lip thoughtfully. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” He cringed. “As ridiculously sappy as that sounded it's still true.”
“Of course,” Phil said honestly. “The same goes for you. PJ was telling me about dead worlds that were created centuries ago. If we figure out how to access them we could always trap her there. No murder necessary, and in some ways that would be a worse punishment. Leave her to live out the rest of her life alone and knowing she failed.”
“I'm all for maximizing torture,” Dan said dryly. “But what's bringing on this current wave of pacifism?”
Phil hesitated, biting his lip. “After everything's that happened this last year, maybe she's not as bad we think she is. You're not at all what I expected, and with all the horrible things that have happened between our parents being abducted and you almost dying maybe it's time we tried and solve things peacefully.”
A half smile pulled at the edges of Dan’s lips. “Maybe you're right. We’ll figure it out.”
“Sorry,” Phil stumbled to a halt, mouth dropping open in shock. “Did Daniel Howell just admit that I’m right?”
“Fuck off,” Dan grumbled, laughter robbing his words of any bite.
“Make me,” Phil retorted, the reply slipping out before he could stop it. Dan froze, staring back at him with a peculiar expression. His gaze flickered to Phil’s lips and back up to his eyes, and as if subconsciously he wetted his lips. Phil tracked the movement, not daring to breath.
Dan exhaled, and the tension shattered. “Are we still on the right track?”
After casting the spell, PJ had tied it to two bracelets, giving them to Dan and Phil to wear. Phil closed his eyes, touching the twine braided around his wrist. The image pushed its way into his mind’s eye: the back of a building surrounded by a forest. A street sign flashed just around the corner, 250 Main Street.
Phil’s eyes popped open. “Yes,” he said. “Just a little further.”
Dan gestured in front of him grandly. “Lead the way, King Lester.”
Phil smiled, bowing his head. If he slipped his hand into Dan’s as he walked past, well, no one needed to know. And if Dan squeezed his hand in return, no one needed to know about that, either.
…
They had voted to divide and conquer, figuring it was the most efficient course of action. By midday they still had a few kilometers left to go and Phil’s stomach had long since started complaining. Dan had gone to inquire about bus tickets, and Phil had gone across the street to the grocery store.
He skimmed his fingers against the boxes of protein bars, grabbing a box at random. His fingers tapped tunelessly against his thigh, his thoughts drifting, as usual, to Dan. He wondered if the Inquiter had a peanut allergy. That would unfortunate, given nuts seemed to be a staple in any granola bar.
Sirens shattered his train of thought, Phil stiffening. The groceries hit the ground with a thud as he took off running. The doors parted before him, and he stumbled outside, turning his gaze to the bus station up the street.
Black flames rolled towards him, fire trucks and fighters screaming as the fire raged despite their best attempts. For one, paralyzing moment, Phil was back in Illumination, staring at the broken forms of his friends. He blinked once, and then a few more times until the image was once again forced to the back of his mind.
There was only one thing Iniquiter fire could mean--Dan was in trouble.
Phil took off running, sprinting across the street without hesitation. His knives were already in hand, summoned unconsciously because Dan needed his help and there wasn't any time to waste.
The firefighters moved to block his way, but he shoved them aside and jumped into the building. Dan was crumpled on the ground, curled in on himself and axe fallen from his grip. Something clenched in Phil’s chest, a stab through the heart that he shoved aside.
He grabbed Dan’s shoulders, picking the boy up bridal style and running for the exit. The proper thing to do would be to make sure everyone else was out, but Dan looked too pale and he wasn't breathing and other people be damned. Phil kicked the door open, stumbling outside and tripping down the steps.
He cradled Dan in his arms, freeing one hand and checking his pulse. It was there, but barely. He closed his eyes, forcing his shaking hand to steady and summoning his magic. It spilled to the surface, dripping through the air as he directed it towards Dan.
Traces of color began to return to Dan’s face, and his breathing became a little easier. Phil breathed out slowly, giving as much magic as he dared. Too much and it could harm Dan more than it would save him. He willed the magic to vanish. Nothing happened. Panic rose, cramming every empty space and even those filled, and Phil found that his breathing was becoming faster and faster.
A hand tapped him on the shoulder, and he flinched backwards. A girl a few years older than him stood behind him, offering a warm if somewhat awkward smile. “Do you want me to alert the ambulance?”
“What?” Phil asked stupidly.
She jerked her chin towards Dan. “For your friend.”
Right, human doctors. Phil wasn't sure it would help, or what they would say if they discovered that Dan wasn't human. “No, thank you,” he managed. “He’ll be okay.”
The girl’s brow creased. “Can I call anyone? Is there somewhere for you to go next?”
Phil shook his head. “No. There's no one. We’re not...we’re new to town and haven't found anywhere yet.”
Sympathy warred with lingering apprehension in the girl’s eyes, the former finally winning. “I’m Zoe,” she offered.
“Phil.”
“My girlfriend’s out of town and we have a spare bedroom in our apartment if you need somewhere to crash. Until you're both feeling better.”
Phil forced a smile, the motion an unfamiliar feeling that cracked every muscle in his face. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“I know we’re not the most progressive town, but I promise not everyone’s a homophobic asshole,” she said with a wry smile.
It took Phil a moment to catch the meaning behind her words. He didn't bother to correct her, instead picking Dan up as gently as he could. “Thank you,” he repeated. “You're very kind.”
Zoe smiled, a blush coloring her cheeks. “I'm just doing what anyone would. I live just a few blocks away, follow me.”
Zoe’s house was nice. The walls were a pretty purple color, and her spare bedroom was large enough to fit a king sized bed. Phil wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate it--and more importantly that Dan was conscious enough to make some stupid pun about the bed being fit for a king.
He gently laid the Iniquiter on top of the sheets. Dan’s fringe had fallen into his eyes, and without thinking Phil moved it further off his face. He left his hand there, fixing the rest of his hair.
“I'll make you a deal,” Phil said quietly. “You wake up, and we’ll both promise to stop doing that thing where we get trapped in burning buildings. Okay?” He pressed two fingers to Dan’s neck, a reassurance that he was still alive. Being crown prince was never a particularly safe position, but it was one thing being hurt himself and another to see Dan hurting.
“Please, Dan.” Phil’s voice dropped to a whisper, his hand grabbing Dan’s and holding on like it was a lifeline. “I need you to wake up.” He eyed the boy hopefully, as if they were in a story and those were the magic words that would make him wake up. Unsurprisingly but no less disappointingly, nothing happened.
“How is he?” Zoe leaned against the door frame, black curls falling into her eyes. She tucked them back behind her ear, mouth curling in sympathy.
Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’ll live.” I think. “It's mostly smoke inhalation,” he lied, grabbing onto the first human medical issue he could think of. Usually Illuminators and Iniquiters never got ill. Their magic worked to protect them from most disease, and any healers worked primarily to tend to wounds from battle.
Zoe’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure it wouldn't be better to call an ambulance?”
“He would probably have an aneurism if he woke up in a hospital,” Phil said truthfully. “Bad memories.”
She nodded, tapping the side of her glasses. “I have really shitty vision so I've spent a lot of time in hospitals for surgery. I know how you feel.”
Phil hesitated. He didn't want Zoe to think he was ungrateful, or to cause her to change her mind, but he hadn't met many people as generous as she was. “Why are you helping us?”
Zoe pursued her lips, head tilting to the side thoughtfully. “That's a good question, actually. I don't know. I used to want to be a superhero but instead I'm a cashier. I guess if I help as many people as I can I'll be...not a superhero maybe but someone past me would be proud of. You know?”
Phil nodded, because he did. He just wished he wasn't such a disappointment--to his present and past self. Zoe’s willingness to let people into her life was admirable, and he hoped he could be that kind someday.
…
They'd been at Zoe’s house for three days and Dan still hadn't woken up.
Phil couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. Any moment he took his eyes off Dan was a moment too long, and he didn’t want his friend to wake up and think Phil had abandoned him. Zoe had gently suggested contacting Dan’s family, letting them know what had happened ‘especially if…’ Her sentence had gone unfinished, and Phil had nodded silently.
He was well aware the longer he stayed at Zoe’s the less likely it was their parents were still alive, but without Dan’s help he didn’t any chance of beating Lily. That and he didn’t want to leave until he knew was okay. Phil had no plans of letting the Iniquiter leave until he was completely recovered. He was positive Dan would be livid once he found out, but as long as he conscious he could be as pissed as he liked.
It took another two days before Dan finally woke up.
Phil had his propped up on the bed on top of Dan’s, arms crossed and eyes weary. There was only so long he could go without sleeping, but every time he tried it was short lived. Nightmares or Dan moving jolted him to alertness a few minutes later, and there was no relief in waking. He closed his eyes, listening to Dan’s breathing and counting the seconds between each inhale. If he was breathing, he couldn’t be dead. He held onto that knowledge, fingers curling into the boy’s shirt.
Dan jerked under Phil’s legs. eyes flying open. He gasped for air, bolting upright. “Phil?”
“I'm here.” Phil snapped to attention, a relief knocking the breath from his lungs. He fumbled for Dan’s hand, pressing it to his cheek to make sure that yes, Dan was fine and yes, this was real. “How're you feeling?”
“Like someone hit me with a dose of magic. Oh wait.”
“It's good to know your sense of humor didn't die,” Phil said dryly. His fingers tightened around the Iniquiter’s, feeling a stupid, giddy smile overtake his face.
“Never.” Dan’s expression turned grim. “What happened? Someone attacked me and I tried to stop them. That's all I can remember. How long was I out?”
“Four days. The bank caught on fire,” Phil said softly.
Dan’s eyes widened. He pushed himself further upright, brushing off Phil’s offered hand. “What happened? Was anyone hurt?”
“A few people,” Phil answered carefully. “No deaths, but one of the tellers has been in a coma ever since.”
“Fuck.” Dan ran a hand over his face, eyes fluttering shut. “This is all my fault. I don’t know what happened, I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”
Carefully, Phil reached out and laid a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Dan. You said your magic’s been out of control for months, this is nothing you could’ve stopped. If you want to blame anyone, blame the asshole who attacked you.”
Dan’s face was ashen. “‘Not my fault’--I’m the fucking king. I’ve been using magic my entire life. What excuse could I possibly have?”
“And normally you would’ve had the situation under control,” Phil said firmly. “But this was not something you could've stopped. Whatever’s wrong with our magic isn't anything we’re deliberately causing, and therefore it's not fair to blame either of us for anything that might happen as a result.”
The implications of his own words hit him a moment later. In a lot of ways, it was probably hypocritical of him to be telling Dan not to blame himself when he was doing the same.
Dan watched him curiously, brows drawn into a frown. “Anyone home?”
“Yeah,” Phil said quietly. “Just thinking.”
“About?” Silence. “Surprisingly, talking about it helps. I speak from personal experience of a few seconds ago.”
Phil exhaled, cheeks puffing out. “There's something I haven't told you. Why I left Illumination.”
“Your parents?”
“No. Yes, technically, but no. That's not all. While most Illuminators supported my unofficial promotion a vocal few were against it. There was an uprising that occurred, and the palace was placed under attack. I was confined to my chambers, but I left and joined the fight.” Phil paused, fighting to keep his tone even as he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He wondered if talking about this would ever get easier. “I used magic to defend myself, but something went wrong and I…” His voice dropped to a whisper, hoping his feelings of self loathing weren’t as obvious as he suspected they were. “I couldn’t do anything. They’re dead now and I ran away. The truth is, what William was doing--it’s nothing I didn’t deserve. I’m just as ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ as Lily.”
“Don’t say that.” Dan’s tone was sharp, and he reached for Phil’s hand. “No one should have had to go through the kind of torture you did, especially if you think you deserved it. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve met. When there was no one, and I had nowhere to go you were the one who helped me. Who showed me that there’s good in everyone. I know it can be hard to believe that you’re worth saving, but trust me when I say that you are.”
Phil trained his eyes on the ground. Pieces of him were breaking and scattering across the worlds. “I don’t know if I can right now.” He dared to glance up. Dan’s eyes were sad, but he didn’t seem angry.
“I heard you,” Dan said softly. His hand brushed Phil’s cheek, resting above his cheekbone. “What you said. You promise to stop running into burning buildings if I do. But I have a new deal--if you try and believe that you deserve to live I'll do the same.”
Phil covered Dan’s hard with his own, locking their gazes. “Deal.” Another promise of something hung in the air, and this time he was determined not to let it go. “Do you remember our first kiss?” he asked quietly.
Dan pushed his hair further off his forehead. “Of course. How could I forget it? It's a good memory.”
Phil smiled. “I think so too.” Dan’s fingers tilted his chin up towards him. Phil held his breath, eyes locking with the Iniquiter’s as he leaned forward.
Dan’s lips were as soft as he remembered, parting under his own. His hand snaked around Phil’s neck, tangling in his hair. Phil pulled Dan closer until the two were pressed lips to lips and hips together. He deepened the kiss, biting down on Dan’s lip and sucking.
Dan made a whining noise in the back of his throat, tugging him closer. Phil slipped his leg between Dan’s, pushing the other boy back onto the mattress. Dan’s lips parted as Phil pressed his mouth to his neck, kissing down his collar. He paused halfway down, pulling Dan’s shirt out of the way and sucking gently at the exposed skin.
Dan made a noise that was positively sinful, hissing between his teeth and pressing every point of contact closer still.
Warmth flooded Phil’s veins, contentment and satisfaction the only feelings left to think. The words slipped out before he could think. “I love you.” He raised his head, looking up at Dan. The brown of the boy’s eyes were almost completely black, blown wide with lust. A warm smile danced at the corners of his expression.
“Say that again,” Dan asked, hand gripping Phil as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
“I love you,” Phil repeated firmly. “You're my moon and my stars, and I'm so glad to have met you.”
Dan smiled. “I love you too.”
…
Thursday seemed like a good day to die.
That was how Dan had brought the subject up to Phil, anyway. He'd gotten a punch in the arm for his phrasing, but eventually the Illuminator had agreed that yes, Thursday seemed like a good day to leave.
Phil washed his hands, fixing his fringe in Zoe’s mirror one last time. His belt was untied around his waist, boots shoved on and unlaced. The color of both his and Dan’s gear was black, and though it was probably the most sensible Phil couldn't help but see it as yet another parallel between them.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. With a final, appraising look, he pulled the door open. Dan stood on the other side, hand raised to knock again. He raised an appreciative eyebrow.
“You look nice.”
“You do too,” Phil said. Dan’s gear was formfitting, accenting the muscles in his arms and the slenderness of his legs. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, fingers tapping noiselessly against his thigh. Phil reached a hand up, smoothing out his forehead. “Cheer up, at least we’ll make nice corpses.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better. Although,” he continued thoughtfully. “A kiss might.”
Phil shook his head fondly, pulling Dan into a quick kiss. His own nerves felt seconds away from bursting, coiled too tightly to do much else than breathe, but he had to at least pretend to be calm for Dan’s sake.
“We should find another space and practice summoning a portal just to make sure,” Dan said.
Phil nodded. “That's a good idea.” He slid his hand into Dan’s, pulling the other boy downstairs. Zoe was sitting at the kitchen counter, head bent over a newspaper.
She glanced up at their entrance. “Are you leaving already?”
“We should head out before it gets dark,” Phil said apologetically. Zoe looked disappointed, but she smiled anyway, climbing down from her stool. “Thank you once again. For everything,” Phil said. He hoped she could see how much all of this had meant, and that humanity could be kinder than he’d ever known
Zoe pulled him into a hug. “You're welcome once again. Good luck, and if you're ever in the area let me know.” She met Dan’s eyes. “I’m glad you're feeling better, and it was nice meeting you.”
“You as well.” Dan hesitated a moment, before stepping forwards and giving Zoe a hug. “Tell your girlfriend hello.”
“I will.” She unlocked the door, Dan slipping past her. Phil stopped at the top of the stairs, tilting his head and looking back at Zoe. It was strange how the best people rarely knew that they were.
“For what it's worth,” he said softly. “I think you're already a superhero.”
Her smile widened. “Thank you Phil. So are you.”
…
“Faster Dan.”
“I don't want to hurt you.”
“I trust you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Fuck Phil, it’s harder than I thought it would be. I don't know if I can do this.”
“Have some faith. You’re more than capable, don't worry.”
“It's massive. Are you sure you'll be okay”
Phil dropped his hands to his sides, studying the wall in front of them. “Why do you keep worrying about me? I'm not the one who was trapped in a burning building.”
“This time,” Dan corrected.
Phil rolled his eyes, raising his hands again. “Come on, one more go and we’ll take a break.” Dan mirrored his stance, light and shadows swirling together around them and moving towards the wall. Sweat courses down Phil’s face as he shoved his hands forwards, his magic following.
For a moment, nothing happened.
An explosion rocked the ground, magic rebounding with a crash. Instinctively, Phil pushed Dan behind him. He closed his eyes, a white light searing the back of his eyelids. Then, silence.
“It's okay, Phil,” Dan said quietly, nudging his shoulder. “You can open your eyes.”
Phil cracked an eyelid open. The other followed in surprise. The wall had vanished. In its place was a glowing white light. He squinted, narrowing his eyes and trying to see past it. The vague outlines of ruined buildings and cliffs were just visible, and a grin split his face. They’d finally done it.
“We fucking did it,” Dan said, shock warring with pride. “I can't believe it.”
Phil laughed, exhilaration mixing with adrenaline as he pulled the Iniquiter into a kiss. “Yeah we did.”
“But how do we close it?” On a whim, Phil snapped his fingers. There was a sucking sound, and the portal snapped shut.
Dan’s mouth dropped open. “That was literally the coolest thing I've ever seen.”
“I feel like those superheroes human make movies about. Star Wars Trek or something?”
“Something like that,” Dan agreed.
“Somehow I don't think it'll be quite as exciting.”
“You mean death isn't exciting?”
“Ha.” Phil elbowed him. “Don't joke about that kind of thing. I won't let you die.”
“Neither will I,” Dan said, resting his head against Phil’s shoulder. Empty promises, but they both knew it it was all they had.
…
In Phil’s opinion, there was nothing creepier than the sound of a child’s laughter. The fact that the spell had led them to an elementary school was not a comforting one, and the thought that a first grader had been behind all of the destruction was a horrifying one.
“Of course it had to be a fucking elementary school,” Dan muttered, voicing Phil’s thoughts.
“I really hope this is where Lily decided to camp out and not that she's actually young enough to be an elementary school student,” Phil said grimly.
“What happens if the banishment doesn't work?” Dan asked quietly.
Phil chewed on his lip. “Then I guess we’ll have to do what we can.”
“Here we go,” Dan muttered. “There better be some good legends about this afterwards.”
“Wait.” Phil grabbed the boy’s wrist, slamming Dan into the wall behind him.
“What--” Dan’s objections were cut off by Phil’s mouth, wet and warm under his. It was far more chaste than the kisses they'd shared the night before, but more bittersweet. Dan was all he could feel and all he wanted to breath, flooding every sense until they were impossible to define. If this truly were Phil’s last moments before he died, this wasn't a bad way to spend them.
“I love you,” Dan said softly. “If I'm going to die I'm glad it's with you.”
“That's a bit morbid, isn't it?”
The boy rolled his eyes, bumping his forehead against Phil’s. “Says the one joking about nice corpses earlier asshole. You know what I mean.”
“I do. And I love you too.” Phil reached for the Iniquiter’s hand, squeezing. “You ready?”
Dan smiled slightly, squeezing back. “Together.”
Phil held his breath pushing the doors open.
His footsteps echoed on the tiles, the hallways deserted. Dan’s hand was warm and solid in his, a reminder that he was still here and still alive. They neared the last door at the end of the hall, exchanging a final glance before stepping inside. Phil had his hand ready to flick out his knives at a moment’s notice, Dan mimicking his motions beside him.
A girl was sitting at one of the desks, feet propped up and surrounded by an assortment of different men and women. Around their waists were varying shades of purple belts, the girl wearing one that was a deep shade of plum. A collection of bright red balloons were tied to her chair, bobbing happily overhead.
She looked up, squealing. “You're finally here!”
“Sorry we’re late,” Dan said sarcastically. His battle axe shimmered in the darkness beside him, a heartbeat away from being fully drawn. “Traffic was hell.” Phil squeezed the Iniquiter’s hand a final time before letting go, subtly adjusting his posture so he could leap forwards at a moment's notice.
“I thought you wouldn't come.”
“Dan took too long in the bathroom this morning,” Phil said. The boy in question scowled disapprovingly, the smile in his eyes giving him away.
“Well we’re so glad you did,” she said, grinning maniacally. The balloons hovered in the air above her head, knocking against the lights with each gust of wind.
“Where’s our mum, Lily?” Phil asked steadily.
Lily giggled. “Don't have a mummy or a daddy. Nobody to tell us no or send us far, far away.”
Phil’s voice escalated in volume. “Lily!”
“I killed them,” the girl snarled. “I ripped their throats out with my fingernails while they watched and screamed for help.” The innocent demeanor reappeared, and she blinked up at him sweetly. “I can still hear their sobbing when I close my eyes.”
There was something completely and utterly wrong with the picture--child abandoned and alone and drunk on vengeance. Though every ounce of Phil knew he should hate her, the only feeling he can summon is that of pity.
“I'm sorry for everything that they--that we did to you,” he said quietly. Lily tipped her head to one side, regarding him with the same lazy curiosity a cat does a mouse. “You should never have been banished to Earth.” The truth is that he means every word. If there's one thing he knows by now, it's that no one’s flawless and the kingdoms are no exception. He's just glad he got the opportunity to meet Dan and realize that before repeating the same mistakes.
“You're wrong,” Lily said calmly.
Phil blinked. “Wrong about what?”
“You think you're different from me. But you're not. What have you done to get here? How many people have died because of you?”
Dan made an angry, strangled sound beside him, moving forwards. Phil reached out a placating arm, holding him in place. He appreciated the sentiment, but this was a battle he could fight on his own.
“A lot,” he answered evenly, meeting Lily's gaze challengingly. “Hundreds, maybe even a thousand. What I did was unforgivable, but it was a mistake and I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for it. Will you?”
She sneered. “Of course not silly.”
“Our magic,” Dan said. “Was that you?”
Lily tipped her head back, laughing. “Why kill someone when they can do it themselves? You did all of this yourselves.”
“It doesn't have to be like this anymore,” Phil said carefully. “Dan and I are going to change things and you can help us make it better this time around.
“Aw, big brother’s all grown up,” she jeered. “But you’re lying just like everyone else.” She motioned with her hands, and her soldiers snapped into action.
Weapons appeared in their hands with the sound of metal being sharpened, and within seconds Dan and Phil were surrounded.
Phil’s knives materialized in his hands, and he ducked. The woman’s blade whizzed over his head. Dan spun overhead, slitting her throat. He yanked Phil to his feet. Another soldier ran towards them and Phil jerked his hand upwards. The sunlight reached out and grabbed the man, curling around his ankles and yanking him backwards. His head collided with the ground with a sickening thud. Dan gasped behind him, and without thinking Phil beheaded the soldier behind him. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel guilty about it. They’d all made their own choices. Dan shot him a grateful smile, wincing and flexing his elbow.
Phil parried a stab from someone’s sword, throwing one of his knives. He turned, slashing with the other. A woman cried out, catching his leg with her dagger as she fell. Phil hissed, making a fist. His knife flew back into his hand and he dropped to the ground, rolling past a man’s attack.
Adrenaline coursed through his brain, heightening every sense. A black, Iniquiter blade sailed towards him and he snapped his fingers. It went up in flames, the man dropping it. Dan moved to cover his back, one hand swinging his axe and the other pulling shadows out of the air.
Phil flicked his hand to the left. The soldier beside him flew sideways, smacking others into the wall with his momentum. He reached upward, the roof cracking. With a boom it shattered, half of the room flooding with sunlight. Magic boiled to the surface, and with barely a thought the woman in front of him went up in flames. The fire spread to the person behind her, and Phil couldn't make it stop.
Dan seemed to be having the same problem with his magic, black flames mingling with Phil’s. Sweat lined Phil’s forehead, and as he raised his knives the man in front of him screamed soundlessly, eyes glowing as he exploded.
Lily snarled, slamming her hand on her desk. “Enough! You’re all failures!”
The soldiers froze, and Phil caught Dan’s eye. The Iniquiter had a line of blood dripping from his collarbone and right forearm, but he otherwise looked unharmed. He read the question in Phil’s eyes, giving a minute nod. Phil shoved his hands forward, Dan following his movements. The wall caved in in front of them, disappearing into an abyss.
“Stop!” Lily shrieked. She moved to close the portal, the hole beginning to shrink. Phil gritted his teeth together, forcing it open. Blood ran into his mouth, and light streamed from his hands. But it still wasn’t enough.
He shut his eyes, reaching for every last feeling of happiness he’d ever had. Chris, climbing through the palace window with a cupcake because ‘it was Phil’s birthday and no one should be alone on their birthday.’
His parents, at his coronation dinner, telling him how proud they were and that he could do anything. Someday, they'd said, you will be a great king. How much he was going to miss them, because even though their relationship had been complicated it was still theirs.
The guards pledging their allegiance--not because he was king but because he was a good person. Alaric first showing him how to summon his knives, an encouraging voice and steady hand.
Zoe, a warm smile and helping hand. A superhero in her own right, and according to her so was he.
Memories of Dan and the crazy, uncomplicated way he loved him; of stolen kisses and stories whispered only to each other and the moon. Promises to come back, to never say goodbye, and that everything would be okay.
Every molecule was alight, warmth turning to an almost unbearable heat. Love mixed with content and happiness, and instead of giving up his memories it felt more like he was sharing. This was everything Lily had lost and he had gained, and by giving them away maybe she would finally understand.
Phil opened his eyes, and when he looked down at himself everything was glowing. He was burning hot, the air shimmering around him. The portal continued to grow despite Lily’s attempts otherwise, Dan steadfast and firm beside him. He locked gazes with Phil, eyes glowing black. Ice was crystallizing on the ends of his hair and his gear, condensation forming where it met Phil’s magic.
Darkness and light swirled towards each other, a humming filling the room. There was a sucking sound, and the portal grew. He grabbed Dan’s hand, yanking him down behind the desk instinctively. This was bigger than it had ever gotten during practice, and though they had never been pulled in then who knew what would happen now.
He covered his eyes with his free hand, Lily screaming somewhere behind him. He curled into Dan, thoughts scattered but all of them shouting to anyone that might be listening that they'd make it out of here.
There was a high pitched echo, a boom, and a brilliant flash of light before every bulb in the room blew out.
Then, silence.
Dan’s breathing was ragged beside him, brown eyes wide and young. Phil got to his knees, peeking over the desk. Lily and her followers were gone, the only sign that they'd been there the destroyed school and a bright red balloon. Dan’s eyes narrowed, and a brick was flying through the air, popping it.
“I always hated those fuckers,” he grumbled.
Phil looked at him in surprise, the sound snapping him out of his daze. Dan looked entirely too satisfied with himself, and he burst out laughing. At that Dan joined in, collapsing against Phil as he gasped for air.
They were here, they were okay, and they could laugh. So they did.
…
Dan and Phil stood at the entrances to Enigmaity and Illumination. The veils swirled behind them, rippling with visions of each kingdom. Phil’s eyes roamed Dan’s face, soaking up every last detail that he could. Hopefully this wouldn't be the end, but if it was he wanted to hold on to this moment for a long as he could.
Dan broke first. “I guess this is goodbye,” he said quietly.
“No, not goodbye,” Phil said. He reached up and brushed Dan’s fringe out of the way. The Iniquiter smiled back at him, and Phil’s heart swelled with affection. He didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than he did right now. “See you soon.” He reached for Dan’s hand. “When we were summoning the portal, thinking of you made me and my magic strong enough to defeat Lily. You always will make me want to be better.”
Dan smiled. “As do you. Always. I’ll see you soon,” he repeated. He leaned in, lips pressing against Phil’s. Their hips melted together and Phil deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s neck, pulling him as close as was humanly possible. Dan clutched him back, hands digging into his back with a dull hurt that was a reminder that they were going to be okay.
Dan pulled away, eyes flashing with poorly concealed hurt. He released Phil, turning and walking towards Enigmaity. A few steps away from the veil he paused, hands curling into fists at his sides. His spine stiffened, and Phil ached to go to him. Dan’s head dropped to the ground, and with a deep breath he shoved his way through the portal.
A part of Phil left with him, leaving the rest staring after him with a lump in his throat. He shoved it down, lifting his head and looking towards Illumination. He steeled his nerves--despite everything he'd been through this was the hardest yet. Come what may, he and Dan were still fighting for each other and that was never going to change. He closed his eyes, stepping forwards.
The warmth of the sun was the first sign that he was back, and with a great deal of trepidation he opened his eyes.
To Phil’s relief, Illumination looked identical to his memories growing up. The sun had returned to his proper hue, casting a warm light over the land, and the castle was still standing. It was anyone’s guess how the states of affairs had been sorted out, but he could only hope a civil war had been avoided. The last thing Illumination needed was to be fighting two wars at the same time.
He made his way up the path towards the castle, passing Alex, who looked up in shock. She pushed herself off the tree she’d be leaning on rubbing her eyes. “Your majesty?”
“Hello,” he said, cringing as she drew her horn out of her pocket, blowing.
“The king has returned,” she shouted. “He's back!”
A stomping sound grew louder and as Phil watched a mob of Illuminators bearing various weapons charged towards him. Alex shoved him behind her, a few other of the palace guards running up to meet them.
“Stay behind us your majesty,” she warned. “In your absence some of the Illuminators have rallied against the crown. They roam these paths every few hours, trying to overtake the castle. We haven’t let that happen so far and we’re not going to now.”
Phil kept his neutral. He'd expected this--frankly he was surprised it hadn't already happened. “Let them come.”
She blinked. “Your majesty--”
“Call me Phil. I know what I'm doing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Positively not, but he was done hiding. The mob drew closer, a roar filling the entire kingdom. Phil swallowed, palms sweaty and shaking. There was man leading the charge, a blade sheathed at his side. He was holding a bow, and with a smooth, powerful, motion an arrow was soaring towards Phil.
Phil ducked, throwing his hands up to shield himself. The crowd cringed backwards in anticipation. To their mutual shock, nothing happened. Phil snapped his fingers, a rudimentary trick for summoning fire he’d been able to do since he was two. Nothing. Whatever he and Dan had done with Lily, it seemed to have stripped away his magic.
“He’s powerless!” someone shouted. “Kill him!” The guards surged forwards, swords drawn, but Phil raised a hand to halt them. He should be terrified, but he'd never felt less afraid.
“There’s been far too much killing!” he shouted. “It’s time we solved this peacefully, as I should've done in the first place. The rumors are true. I was on Earth tracking my parents and the person behind the attacks on our kingdom.” An outraged muttering filled the crowd, fighting coming to a halt. Somehow, he'd managed to capture their attention. Now he just had to make it worthwhile.
“Daniel Howell was with me as both an ally and as a friend. If it weren’t for the help of Iniquiters and humans alike we never would've found her. The culprit was a girl named Lily Lester, my younger sister born with Iniquiters powers. She was abandoned and shunned by both kingdoms, and the rage grew until the only thoughts she had were of revenge. She murdered my parents, the King and Queen, attacked the villages to try and turn the two worlds against each other, and heightened Dan’s and my powers until they were uncontrollable.
“This is where our hatred and war will continue to take us if this rivalry goes on for any longer. We’ve been fighting this battle for so long we can't even remember what it is we’re fighting for. Dan and I have decided on a treaty, to forge a union amongst Illumination and Enigmaity instead of our mutual destructions. It's time to focus on our true mission--protecting humanity as we were always meant to.”
“Why should we believe you?” The man shouted. “You slaughtered thousands of us! Our friends, family, my daughter--” his words stumbled to a halt, grief wracking his expression.
“I am so sorry for what I’ve done,” Phil said quietly. He locked eyes with the man, and though the entire kingdom could hear his words they were directed to the same loss he saw in his own. “I will never be able to make up for what I did, for what I took. My magic was amplified by Lily, but I should never have let the situation escalate that much. A true ruler would've tried to resolve the situation peacefully long before. That's the kind of King I'd like to try to be if you'll have me; someone that won't let something like that happen again.”
The man stared with an unreadable expression, his knuckles white and shaking where they gripped his weapon. It clattered to the ground and he followed soon after, face buried in his hands. Everything was silent.
Quietly, Phil stepped towards the man. He held out his hand, waiting. Slowly, the man reached forwards. His fingers curled around Phil’s, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
“I'm sorry,” Phil repeated. “Will you show me what I can do to help?”
“Yes your majesty.”
“From now on, please call me Phil.” The man nodded, grasping his hand before releasing it. “Will you and anyone else who’s interested meet with me in two hours to discuss a new system of government?”
“It would be our pleasure...Phil. My name is Scott,” the man said. He turned back towards the assembled Illuminators. “I'll be at the fountain to prepare for this meeting, if anyone wants to come they should be there.” He gave Alex a short nod, before turning and heading up the path. The silence broke, and a large group followed Scott.
Phil watched them leave, exhaling and feeling exhausted. He hoped things had gone as well for Dan. He looked back towards the crowd, despite himself scanning everyone for a familiar head of brown.
“Oi! Phil!”
Before Phil could react Chris Kendall slammed into him, arms wrapping around him. Phil’s grin split his face, and he hugged him back tightly. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed him or how worried he’d been until now, but it was all crashing in.
Chris punched him in the arm. “That's for leaving and never contacting me.”
“I deserved that one,” Phil said, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I guess I was just scared. I was afraid of what I'd done, but also that you would look at me and see...well, what I’d become.”
“A massive loser? Because I knew that already.” Chris’s tone softened. “Despite what you seem to be telling yourself, this wasn't your fault. You said yourself Lily was screwing around with your magic, and there wasn't anything you could've done. I'm glad you're back. If you ever do that again you'll get worse than a punch.”
“Thanks Chris,” Phil said. He glanced around, everything seeming old and somehow new all at the same time. Or maybe it wasn't the kingdom that was different. “I'm glad I'm back, too.”
…
The following week came with three lessons: ruling a kingdom during peace times was surprisingly stressful, Dan got clingy when they were separated for several days, and Phil didn't mind the latter in the slightest.
Somehow, Phil had assumed that being king wouldn't be as difficult now that the war was over. He had been proven very wrong indeed.
He, Scott, Alex, Chris, and a few others had been working to change the way the kingdom was run and distribute more power to individuals. Apparently, this had never been done successfully before, and starting a kingdom from scratch took a lot of negotiations. Not to mention the treaty with Engimaity.
It was difficult work, but ultimately it was worth it.
After the meetings drafting the peace treaty, he and Dan would slip away into the woods to talk. Sometimes it felt like their few shared moments were the only thing keeping Phil sane.
It was here they found themselves now, the final document signed and Illumination and Enigmaity officially allies.
“I can't believe we actually did it,” Phil said. “If you'd told me two years ago I'd have negotiated a peace treaty with Enigmaity I would've called you crazy.”
“I know,” Dan agreed. “After everything we’ve accomplished I think this is one of the things I'm proudest of.” Phil made a noise of agreement, the two lapsing into companionable silence. “You ever think about Zoe?” Dan asked, leaning against him.
“Sometimes. More than I thought I would.”
“Me too. You think we should visit her sometime, send a thank you card or something? I don't want to forget what she did for us.”
Phil smiled. “That's a lovely idea.” The branches overhead cast a pattern of shadows over Dan’s face, half dark and half light.
Dan’s palm pressed against Phil’s, fingers curling around his. “I love you.” The admission was short and to the point, but they had never been ones for flowery speeches.
Phil smiled. “I love you too. Have you been able to work any magic on your own?”
Dan shook his head, shrugging. “I don't really mind, though. It's a good excuse to visit my boyfriend.”
Phil raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Boyfriend? Bit presumptuous, don't you think?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “You know. Black hair, blue eyes that make me want to wax poetry, thinks he’s hilarious but can actually be kind of an asshole sometimes.”
“He sounds great,” Phil said. “But the point still stands.”
“I suppose you’ll have to do instead,” Dan teased. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Of course,” Phil said, resting a hand on the side of Dan’s face. “After all we’ve been through a little distance is nothing.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“I guess it was meant to be.”
“I guess it was.” Dan smiled, wrapping his arms around the back of Phil’s neck and pulling him closer. Their lips collided, sparks lighting the air around them and dancing towards the permanent gold of Illumination’s sun. There was an explosion, not unlike that of a firework, and then silence.
If Dan and Phil had looked up, they would've seen that the skies in both Illumination and Enigmaity had flared with all the colors of the rainbow. Purple dusted the clouds, orange and reds dripping through yellow light. Blues weaved with white and each sight brought a gasp to the lips of the person watching. Sunset had come to the kingdoms, and it is here that Daniel Howell and Philip Lester will remain for the rest of their days.
Beta: @spaghattanadles
Artist: @pinofs
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 12,040
Warnings: emotionally abusive parents, divorce, break up, implied sex
Description: After twelve years apart, Dan and Phil are giving their relationship another go, but things are off to a rocky start. (Songfic for “Good Love” by Bat for Lashes)
This is the final part of the trilogy, so I suggest you read the first two parts here: Daniel and From Eden
Read on AO3 / Wattpad
A/N: thank you so much to my beta and artist both. dhruv is always lovely to work with, and nikki is my absolute fav. please enjoy his art here!
He stretches out his arms toward Dan, but no one is there.
The sheets are sweaty, and they cling to his legs as he turns for the hundredth time to face the empty side of the bed. There’s been no one but him in this bed for months now, but he had closed his eyes and conjured a warm weight beside him and a soft sound of breathing, and for just a split second Dan had been there with him in this bed he’d never once slept in.
He opens his eyes but doesn’t focus. His alarm clock is just there, across the bed from him. If he looks too closely, he’ll see the time, and he doesn’t want to know just how long he’s lain like this, barred from sleep by a swarm of buzzing thoughts.
There’s work tomorrow, and he needs to sleep, but instead of sleep there are Dan’s restless fingers, picking at the hem of the shirt he’d worn that afternoon. There are Dan’s fidgeting eyes, flitting their gaze toward Phil’s face and away and to Phil’s hands and away and towards Phil’s eyes and away. There is Dan’s voice, tripping and stumbling through a conversation that Phil is almost sure was dead upon arrival.
There is an aborted attempt to reach for each other at the end of the day, a shift of the shoulders, hands half-raised, a jerk of the neck to the side, and uneasy laughter.
They’re three months into this thing, whatever it is, and Phil is wondering if he’s kidding himself. Three months in and they can’t so much as manage a hug.
He closes his eyes, breathes slowly out and in, slowly out and in, slowly out and in. He needs to just let go. All the questions will still be there when the sun comes up. He smooths a hand across the bare bed sheet, focusing on nothing but the slight tickle of the cotton against his fingertips. What if it were skin, he wonders? The warm skin of Dan’s back stretched across the bed beside him. He would draw his fingers up and over the blunt jut of his shoulder blade, slide across and down the back of his arm. And Dan would squirm away and make a laughing protest.
“You know I’m ticklish there!”
He knew, or rather he remembered.
“You’re one to talk. All the times you’ve tickled me, and yet you dare--”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He can just see the way the corner of Dan’s mouth had lifted. Most of his face had been buried in one of Phil’s pillows, so it was just the left side he could see. One mischievous eye scrunched up and staring at him, and the corners of the lips curled up in a smirk.
“Liar!” he’d cried and pounced, fingers digging mercilessly into Dan’s sides, searching for a ticklish spot. But Dan had just lain there beneath him, body shaking with laughter.
“It’s not fair! It’s like you turn it off when you don’t want to be tickled.”
Dan had rolled onto his back unexpectedly then, smirk still in place, eyes still fixed on Phil.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to turn me back on again,” he’d said and winked.
Phil hadn’t breathed for just a moment, but then Dan was reaching for him, arms open and eager, and Phil had fallen in between them, down to Dan and his parting lips and the breath he breathed into Phil’s hungry mouth.
But that was ages ago. Before everything. The sheet is cold beneath his fingers, and he refuses to raise his eyelids because on the other side of them time is steadily pressing on toward the morning.
When his alarm clock sounds, there will be work. There will be stark daylight and all the questions still to be answered. Dan’s name lighting up his phone with another cheerful text, “But is it forced?” he’ll wonder. “Are we just pushing on in hopes that eventually we’ll get there?” You can only hold the match to the candle’s wick for so long before it burns your fingers and you have to let go.
At 6:45, the alarm goes off, and Phil, only half-asleep, grits his teeth, turns it off, and rolls out of bed.
“You could just end it.”
“Mum,” he complains, but the complaint sounds half-hearted.
“I just hate seeing you unhappy when there’s no need to be.”
“I’m not unhappy.”
It isn’t a lie. It really isn’t. Now that it’s day and the street is lit with a mundane grey light and there are people bustling all around him, he can see how distorted his focus had been last night. Sure Dan had seemed nervous, but could he blame him for that? His own heart had been beating in a fluttery rhythm throughout their entire date, and it hadn’t been because he was unhappy to be there. So what if they hadn’t hugged? They’d hugged other times. This time was just--
“But you may be soon,” his mum’s voice cuts across his thoughts from the other end of the line. “Don’t blame yourself that it didn’t work out this time either. You’ve given him a fair shot.”
“Just because I have doubts doesn’t mean it’s not working out, Mum,” Phil retorted. He is nearing the front of his office building again, and he cringes a bit as his slightly-raised tone draws a couple of stares. It’s just harder than I expected it to be, he wants to say, but he knows she’ll only take that as encouragement. He hadn’t called because he wanted to be talked into breaking up with Dan.
“I know,” she replies at last. “I just want what’s best for you...for both of you, really. Maybe this is a chance for both of you to finally move on.”
“I have to get back to work now,” Phil says in lieu of answering her.
She pauses, and in her silence he can hear every word she isn’t saying.
“Have a nice day, love,” she tells him finally.
“Thanks, Mum. I will,” he assures her and then doesn’t.
He’d like to quit dwelling on everything she’s said, to find a way to dislodge from his brain the doubts she’s planted there...except she really hadn’t planted them there. Every word from her mouth had been a perfect echo of his own worries.
But they are only worries, he tells himself, and worrying a thing might be true doesn’t make it true.
Dan is really beautiful.
Phil has this thought while sat across from Dan at a greasy Chinese food place close to Dan’s flat (He hadn’t wanted to go too far away just in case the girls’ babysitter called).
Phil’s stomach had been all tensed up when they’d first walked through the door of the restaurant, and he’d struggled to start a conversation once they’d sat down. But then Dan had started reading their Chinese zodiac descriptions off the placemats and making grade school-level jokes about the Year of the Cock, and Phil had been so busy rolling his eyes and pretending he wasn’t laughing to feel nervous anymore.
And now their food has arrived, and Dan is teasing him about his less-than-adequate chopstick skills. There’s fried rice dribbling down his chin, and Dan is shaking his head, his mouth open in a laughing grin that shows all his teeth and squeezes his dimple into existence. And Phil can’t help thinking how beautiful Dan is.
It’s a thought that hadn’t really occurred to him until now. At least, not since before.
He’d used to be almost obsessed with Dan’s beauty, all those ages ago when they were teenagers… Spent hours daydreaming about the color of his eyes and the shape of his lips and his broad palms… It had been a shock to see how much he’d changed in the past twelve years, to realize that the boy he’d so often daydreamed of was gone forever.
It’s almost as though he’s had to grieve the loss of Dan, even while Dan has been right there with him. But maybe now his period of mourning has ended because looking at the man across the table from him, he is struck by how beautiful Dan is right now. His eyes are still that same shade that makes Phil think of endless falling, though now every time he smiles deep creases form around them that Phil knows will someday become permanent. His lips still curve in a way that makes it difficult for Phil to ignore them, though now Phil can see faint dark patches along his upper lip where stubble will appear in a few hours.
His hands are the same -- exactly the same as Phil remembers, just a little larger, his palms a little broader. When the check is paid, Phil reaches for one of those hands, and his heart drops into his stomach as he feels his own hand swallowed up inside it. Change isn’t a bad thing, he thinks, as they stroll down the street, past brightly-lit shop fronts and all the other people who’ve come out to enjoy a warm summer evening in August.
They talk about going to a movie, maybe, but then Dan says he’d rather be able to keep talking, so they settle on going into an arcade they pass. Phil’s disappointed it doesn’t have any old games like Pac-Man or Space Invaders, but it does have a weird deer-hunting game that they play once and then quit because it feels a little too lifelike. Dan eventually wheedles him into a round of Dance Dance Revolution, which of course Dan wins.
“I don’t know why I let you convince me to do that,” Phil wheezes as soon as the last song ends, as he wipes actual sweat off his forehead and leans against the back rail for support. “We both knew there was no chance I’d win.”
“You enjoyed yourself and you know it,” Dan teases.
“Only for the first two seconds or so until it felt like my lungs were going to claw their way out of my body,” Phil huffs out, clutching his chest. “Something calmer next, please? Maybe with more sitting down?”
Dan laughs and leads him away to some driving game that is only minimally calmer but does at least let them sit down.
Phil is enjoying himself, his close brush with death-by-DDR notwithstanding. Playing video games with Dan is filling him with a rush of nostalgia, but one that is refreshingly free of regret. What does he have to regret, after all, now that Dan’s beside him again, taunting him about his inferior gaming skills and then shouting advice and encouragement to him in the very next breath? This, at least, is just as it ever was.
An hour later, they’re back on the street again, hand in hand again and wandering without really thinking of where they’re going. It takes a while for Phil to notice they’ve made their way back towards Dan’s block of flats. When they stop out front, he thinks they’re saying good night.
So he leans in for a kiss.
It isn’t the first time they’ve kissed since Dan came back. There have been plenty of other nice dates that ended in soft pecks good night.
But this time, after a moment, Dan’s fingers are in his hair and his tongue is licking over Phil’s lips, and suddenly Phil’s breathing isn’t breathing so much as it is turbulence inside his lungs, air roiled by the turmoil his heart rate’s been kicked into.
He opens his lips, and he feels Dan’s other palm close over his hip and the front of Dan’s body pressing into him, urgent and wanting. He knows Dan like this, hungry, insistent, fingers knotted in his hair until his scalp stings. He’s dreamed of Dan like this, moving them steadily closer to the door, asking him upstairs without actually asking, but he finds himself pulling back. He’d made no conscious decision to do so, but one moment Dan’s close enough to feel his heart beating and the next, Phil’s stepping back, forcing a space open between them.
“But what about your daughters,” he breathes, “and the babysitter.”
Dan stares at him uncomprehending for a second. In the blue light of the streetlamps, Phil can see his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed.
“Esther and Hannah are in bed by now,” Dan says at last, blinking a few times like someone surfacing after a long dive. “I’ll pay the babysitter when we get upstairs, and she’ll leave.”
Of course it’s that easy. Phil doesn’t even know why he asked.
“Maybe I should go,” he says. “It’s late.”
Dan’s staring at him again.
“It’s not even 11:00,” Dan says.
“There’s work tomorrow.”
Dan’s forehead wrinkles up, but then he shrugs.
“Okay. That’s fine.” He nods his head slowly. “I, um, I had a good time tonight.”
“Yeah,” Phil nods too, summoning a smile to his lips. “Me too. Well, good night.”
“Good night,” Dan returns, and the wrinkles in his forehead haven’t disappeared.
On his way home, Phil stares at the other people on the tube. He sees that the girl across the way is missing a nail from her manicure, that the man further down has a bald spot that glows dully in the stark, white light of the carriage, that two drunk kids two seats down from him have fallen asleep on top of one another, one snoring and one drooling. He makes sure to notice all of these things because it makes it easier to pretend he hadn’t noticed Dan’s confusion.
But why should Dan have been confused? Phil can turn him down if he wants. Phil can not be ready yet. They can keep taking things slow and getting used to one another and not rushing into it. These are reasonable explanations for his behavior this evening, and if Dan had asked, he might have said those words to him. Let’s not rush it. I’m not ready yet. I need time to--
He’s walking up his own street to his own flat and wondering what the end of that sentence would be -- not the one he might have tacked onto it for Dan, but the true one.
Just the thought of how Dan had kissed him this evening, with his lips and his hands and his entire body, is sending a flush of heat from Phil’s face down to his abdomen. Here in the darkness of his lounge, he can easily imagine what might have come next -- the moment to compose themselves before going inside, the babysitter’s knowing expression, Dan saying he needs to peek in on the girls first, the hurried stumble through the bedroom door, the rush to get each other’s clothes off, Dan’s hands on his skin and Dan’s body weighing him down -- Here in the darkness of his lounge with just himself to confess to, he can admit that he’s getting hard just imagining it.
He wants Dan. He knows he wants Dan, yet clearly there’s some part of him that doesn’t.
His phone rings the next evening, half an hour after he’s returned home from work.
When he sees Dan’s name and grinning face on the screen, something inside him tenses, like a knot being suddenly drawn closed.
He tells himself to answer, tells his finger to press the green button and his mouth to say hello, but they don’t. He doesn’t. He lets it go to voicemail, and a minute later when his phone buzzes to let him know there’s a new message waiting, instead of listening to it, he turns his phone off entirely and sets it down on the table in front of the sofa and goes to his room and shuts the door.
“I know it’s kind of like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted--”
“I’ve never let a horse out of a stable, personally, so I’ll take your word for it,” Phil had interjected, causing Dan to cast him an annoyed glare.
“Neither have I, Phil, but you know what I mean,” he’d said, pretending to be far more exasperated than Phil knew he really was. Phil couldn’t stop himself grinning. They’d been walking down the street hand-in-hand on their very first date since Dan had come back, and things had been going better even than he’d expected. Dan had asked a lot of questions about Phil’s life now, trying to catch up on the twelve years of it he’d missed out on. Eventually the conversation had come to the present -- to the two of them and this relationship and what they were going to do about it.
“I know,” Phil had relented, nudging him a bit with his shoulder. “Your girls have been through a lot and you don’t want them to get too attached to me if it’s not going to work out.”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Dan had rushed to say, “It’s more just… The only person they’ve ever seen me with was their mum, and I need to learn how to be with you myself before I can help them understand it. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, of course,” Phil had said, but also in the back of his mind, he’d added, ‘and in case it doesn’t work out, you don’t want them to get hurt again.’
Two nights later, Dan shows up at his door. As soon as he opens it to find Dan standing on the other side, he feels like the most selfish person in the world. He knows it couldn’t have been easy for Dan to come here at this time of night. He must have gotten a babysitter again or asked a friend to come over to watch the girls.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to apologize, but Dan speaks first.
“Can I come in?” He sounds as hesitant as though he were asking someone to buy him Buckingham Palace rather than simply asking his boyfriend if he can enter his flat, and Phil feels like an even bigger jerk.
“Yeah, of course!” He steps back and waves Dan inside, eager to appear as inviting as he had been distant the past couple of days.
Dan steps through and walks over to his sofa, but instead of sitting down, he stares back over at Phil. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and hunches his shoulders up. Phil can’t help thinking of a spring that’s been scrunched as far down as it’ll go, all that pent up energy poised and ready.
He turns away to close the door, giving himself a moment to breathe deeply and think about how to defuse the building tension.
When he turns back, he offers Dan a small smile, holding his gaze as he walks over, and then pointedly takes a seat on the couch near where Dan is stood.
“Wanna sit down?” He gestures toward the space beside him.
Dan nods and sits. Phil watches as he consciously uncrosses his arms and straightens his shoulders. He’s trying to loosen up, but the fingers of his left hand have found the hem of his t-shirt again and Phil can see how they won’t stop rubbing and pulling and stretching it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Dan says at the exact same time Phil says, “I’m sorry.”
“No!” Phil exclaims at once, shaking his head. “It’s my fault. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me, just--”
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” Dan insists.
“I know.”
There’s a pause while Dan waits for an explanation and Phil tries to think of one.
“Is something wrong?” Dan asks, almost the same question as before.
“No,” Phil says because it’s not. There’s nothing wrong, nothing that he can name at least.
“Are you sure?”
Phil nods.
Dan sighs and looks away.
“I’ve been worrying myself sick these past two days.” He says the words without any force or malice, but Phil still feels them like a punch in the stomach. “You aren’t upset?” He looks back at Phil again, eyes wide to catch any smallest clue from Phil’s demeanor.
“I’m not. I just--”
“I thought you were upset,” Dan rushes on, sounding kind of out of breath. “I thought maybe I was forcing myself on you, because you didn’t want to come upstairs, and that’s fine. It’s fine, Phil, of course, but I thought maybe you hadn’t wanted me to kiss you at all, and I’m really sorry if you didn’t. I should’ve thought--”
“No, I wanted you to,” Phil protests. “I wanted to do everything with you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, I didn’t, but…” Phil’s feeling as confused as Dan looks.
“Something’s wrong,” Dan states, and Phil wishes he would stop saying that. He’s fine. They’re fine. This is a momentary setback, and any moment now, it’s going to strike him exactly why he hasn’t been able to answer any of Dan’s calls or even listen to his messages these past two days. Twelve years I waited to hear from him. He can wait two days for me to return his phone call.
But it’s not like Dan owes him or anything.
“I just needed some time to think, but I’m fine now. Really.”
“Think about what?” Dan is relentless, and Phil is starting to find it irritating.
“Just about us. This.” He waves a hand around in the air. His heart is beating in his stomach, and it’s making him feel nauseated. “I don’t know why I reacted like that the other night, Dan. I’ve been thinking about it all this time, and I still don’t know.”
Dan’s still staring at him, but Phil can see some of the tension easing from the corners of his eyes and lips.
“Okay,” Dan says. “It’s okay if you don’t know why. I know this whole thing is...complicated. Just...I was hoping we could figure it out together.”
“We can.”
“Then talk to me about it,” Dan pushes on. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
“I--” Phil says but then realizes he doesn’t know what he was going to say. He’s feeling confused and irritated, with both Dan and himself. Why can’t he just be normal? Why can’t he just be a normal man who kisses his boyfriend and follows him upstairs and has sex with him and is happy about it? Why does he have to feel so broken every time someone tries to love him?
In the past, there had been such an easy answer for all those questions, but now...his easy answer is sitting right here in front of him asking to know what’s wrong.
“Yes?” Dan says, a slight, encouraging smile lifting his lips.
Phil takes a deep breath.
“I think I’m still mad at you.”
Dan’s small smile fades at once.
“For wanting to have sex with you?”
“No, not that,” Phil shakes his head. He looks away from Dan’s face. It’s too hard to say this when he can see him still. “It’s just… You went away. I mean, I know it wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for that. Or...I mean. I don’t want to blame you for it. I know you couldn’t help it.”
“Then what, Phil?” Dan’s voice comes quick and low as soon as Phil pauses.
He stands up then, his fingers sliding up into his hair as he walks to the other side of the room and back. He stops beside the sofa. He still can’t look at Dan, though he can hear his breathing, deep and far too quick.
“I spent twelve years...thinking about you. Worrying about you. It’s hard to just… It’s just, suddenly you’re here, you know? And I have to stop thinking of you as this person who just...left… Tore my heart out and took it with him… And never once called me for more than a decade.”
He stops. He can’t think of any more words to say, at least not ones that will be helpful.
They both wait a long time, Phil for better words to come, and Dan...probably for the same.
It’s Dan who finally breaks the silence.
“I’ve said I was sorry, Phil--”
“I know,” Phil says at once, looking down at Dan’s face at last. He looks so defeated. The blood begins pounding hard behind Phil’s eyes.
“There’s literally nothing else I can do about it,” Dan says, shaking his head back and forth just the tiniest bit. “It’s not like I can go back and change things.”
“I know.” Phil feels like he’s squeezing the words out around a pile of boulders that’s suddenly tumbled into his chest.
“If you know, then…” Dan sighs and then lifts his shoulders and spreads his hands out before him. “If you can’t accept that, then this isn’t going to work.”
Phil bites his lips. The blood in his head is pounding even harder. He can’t think. He can only bite his lips and stare at Dan. I know, he wants to say, but he’s already said it too many times. There’s no point in saying it again, not when knowing something is so different from believing it.
At last, Dan’s eyes harden up, and Phil knows he’s lost the moment. Maybe he could have still said something, a few seconds ago, to right their swiftly-tilting vessel, but now--
“Okay then,” Dan says and slaps his knees with finality. “Okay, that’s it then.”
He stands.
Phil’s arms are twitching. They ache to reach for Dan and hold him back from leaving, but if he did, what reason could he give Dan to stay? Stay...but I can’t promise I’ll stop resenting you. Stay...but I’m still angry at you for everything.
“I should go,” Dan says, and Phil doesn’t disagree.
So Dan goes.
He doesn’t look back at the door or make any kind of parting remarks. He just walks to the door and opens it and then closes it behind himself, and Phil can hear his footsteps echoing all the way down the stairwell outside.
Dan doesn’t cry. Not on the way home and not even once he’s walked into his own flat and paid the babysitter and checked on the girls and closed himself off in his room alone.
He’d fully expected to cry. It’s something he’s learned to accept about himself over the years -- how quickly and easily the tears come. But they don’t come tonight.
It’s not like he’d thought everything was perfect between them. He’d never expected things to be perfect in the first place, so when he’d felt that distance...the nearly tangible space Phil always left between them, the hesitant pauses before speaking, the half-closed doors in his eyes, he’d thought very little of it.
These things took time, he knew.
So when the other night everything had seemed perfect and Phil had laughed and joked and spoken his thoughts without a moment’s hesitation, Dan had breathed an internal sigh of relief. They’d finally turned the corner. They were finally getting there. And when he’d kissed Phil, he’d known that kiss. They might be older and more experienced now, but Phil still kissed the same way he had when they were teenagers desperate to tear every last bit of sensation loose from each encounter.
For a moment, they had been themselves again… Or rather, he’d deluded himself into believing they were themselves again.
He’d been forgetting that those selves he’d been so desperately searching for were phantoms at best. Like a word written down and scratched out and written on top of a dozen times over. Maybe somewhere there, under all that scribbling, the paper still bore some impression of the original idea, but to anyone hoping to find it, it was as good as gone. No matter how immanent and real his memories made it feel. No matter how much of the past he could taste on Phil’s lips.
Nostalgia should come with a warning label, he thinks as he rolls over in bed and yanks the duvet over himself: Objects in memories may be farther than they appear.
Nothing shocks him more than the voicemail he listens to on his phone the following afternoon.
He still hasn’t cried. He thinks this must be some kind of personal record for him. Back when he and Maria were still together, he used to cry every single time they fought. He doesn’t know what is different with Phil. He thinks it must be because he’s just not as invested. The relationship is barely three months old, at least in its current version, whereas he and Maria had spent a full nine years together. Three months is nothing, not when he’s got two children whose happiness and health take up the vast majority of his energies. He doesn’t have time to be upset that things didn’t work out with Phil.
Or so he hopes, as he drops the girls off that morning, Esther at her school and Hannah at hers. They’d both been chatty at breakfast, eager to tell him all about the fun evening they’d spent with their babysitter. Her name is Funmi, and he’d found her through a local agency. She is a university student studying primary education, and she is, frankly, a god-send. He’d been lucky that she’d been available on such short notice last night.
“Did you know that ‘astronomy’ means learning about space and stars and things?” Esther tells him as she carries her cereal bowl over to the sink.
“Does studying space and stars sound interesting to you?” Dan asks dubiously as he helps her climb up on the step stool and start washing up. Esther’s wanted to be a singer like her mum for as long as she’s been able to speak. He almost can’t imagine her doing anything else.
“No,” she states flatly, shrugging, “but it was one of the vocabulary words Miss is making us memorize.”
It startles him a bit, hearing his daughter refer to her teacher as “Miss.” They’d started back at school only this week, and up until now, Esther had called her teacher Ms. Brooks. She must have picked up the habit of calling her “Miss” from the other kids in her class. It sounds a little odd in her American accent, though that is beginning to change as well.
“Did Funmi practice your vocabulary words with you?”
“Mm hmm!” Esther nods, grinning and then jumping down to dry her hands.
“Is it my turn?” Hannah calls from the kitchen table, and Dan looks over to see her wiggling in her chair, bowl clutched precariously between her hands.
“Yep!” he smiles, gesturing her over. It takes more time (and more help from her dad) for Hannah to get her bowl clean, but when she hops down and dashes off to her room, she is grinning too. She’d already shown him the drawings she and Funmi had made together last night, now proudly displayed on the refrigerator.
The girls are both doing so much better than they had been even a month or two before. They seem happy and adjusted, and maybe it’s good that things with Phil are over now. He can’t deny he’d been worried about what would happen when he finally sat the girls down and explained that their dad had a boyfriend. One of Esther’s classmates had two mums, so that at least had given him a natural opportunity to answer some of their questions about who could marry whom. They are young enough that they hadn’t been particularly fazed by the concept, just curious. He isn’t so sure they would remain so unperturbed if one of the persons in question were their own father, though.
But there is no need to worry about such things anymore, at least not for the time being. The girls will have more space and time to settle in, to get comfortable with the idea of their dad not being with their mum, and he will have more energy to devote to them. It really is the best thing for all of them, now that he thinks of it.
And that must be the reason why he hasn’t shed a single tear over this. It’s for the best. It’s what he really wanted all along. And he certainly isn’t harboring a single hope that Phil just needs time to think through his feelings before moving forward. That can’t be it.
He’s at the studio, stopped for a break after several long hours of recording, when he checks his phone and sees the missed call and the voicemail. Phil’s name is just casually shining up at him from the screen of his phone, and suddenly the tears are right there, stinging the edges of his eyes and clawing at the insides of his throat.
“I’ll be back in a few,” he tosses over his shoulder, not waiting to make sure anyone has heard him before he dashes out into the hallway and down to an old studio he knows isn’t likely to be in use right now.
“Hey. It’s me,” he hears Phil’s voice say on the other end of the phone as he fumbles across the gloomy room for a chair to sit on. He hears a ragged breath on the other end of the line, and the sound is enough to bring the tears rushing down his own cheeks. He finds a chair and sinks into it, and Phil says, “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have...said… I was wrong, Dan. I’m really sorry. Can I… I guess you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, but I’d like to… I mean, if you can meet me somewhere after work. Or later. Just...whenever you can. Please.” Phil pauses, and Dan can hear a muffled sound on the other end, like another voice speaking in the background. It’s the middle of the day. Phil must have been calling from his office. “I’m so sorry, Dan. Please call me back.”
That’s the end of the message.
He’s full on sobbing now, but that’s okay. They’re more tears of relief than anything.
He sends Phil a text because his break is almost up, and he needs to get back.
at the studio right now. i’ll give you a call later.
He wants to type so much more. i’m sorry too, that i ever hurt you. i’m sorry i waited so long to find you again. there’s no need to keep crying. you’re already forgiven.
He can hear the difference in his playing once he gets back to the studio. He’s recording with an R&B artist today, and he can tell everyone else in the studio hears the difference too, by the raised eyebrows and sidewise glances he gets. He’s never been able to play without baring everything he happens to be feeling at the moment. He knows it’s a weakness, and sometimes it hurts his playing, but today… His heart is soaring and his blood is burning through his body like it’s been lit on fire, and he can hear the flames in the notes too as they leap and sizzle from inside the piano to heat the air of the stuffy studio.
“That was some fine playing,” one of the producers tells him at the end of the session as he’s heading out the door.
“Thank you.” He grins as he steps outside, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
There’s no response from Phil, but when he opens up the conversation, he can see that Phil had read his message just a couple of minutes after he’d sent it.
He calls his friend Lucy first and breathes a sigh of relief when she says she’d be happy to pick the girls up after school and watch them for an hour or two. He has to call each school after that as well, to notify them that someone other than their dad will be signing the girls out.
When he finally calls Phil, he isn’t surprised that he only gets Phil’s voicemail. Phil will still be at work for another hour or so.
“Hi. It’s me. I’ll meet you at your office when you get off work,” he says. “Maybe we can get coffee or something. I’ll see you then.”
He keeps his tone neutral. He can’t let on how hopeful he is, how much excitement and expectation Phil’s message has woken in him.
He’s waiting on the pavement just outside of Phil’s office building at 5:00 that afternoon, just as he always used to, and it’s funny that he’s already feeling nostalgia for something that happened a mere three months ago. And anyway, what is there about lurking outside your ex-lover’s office building to be nostalgic about? It sounds damn creepy now that he looks back on it.
Phil walks out at exactly 5:04, eyes casting about until they fall on Dan.
“Hey,” Dan says.
“Hey,” Phil replies, lips jerking up for a moment in a quick almost-smile. “There’s a Costa right around the corner…”
Dan nods and by tacit agreement, they both turn and begin heading toward the coffee shop.
“I’m really sorry,” Phil blurts out before they’ve taken more than two steps. “What I said was really wrong. I shouldn’t have said it.”
Dan stops and turns to look at Phil, who had been just a pace behind.
“You should have said it,” he counters. They’re stopped in the middle of the pavement, and people are pointedly going around them, so he reaches out and tugs Phil gently toward the side of a building. “You have to be honest with me, Phil.”
“I know,” Phil dashes a nervous glance to the side as a cluster of people dressed in business attire pushes past them. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it. I… I mean, I wasn’t lying. I was trying to be honest, but it was wrong. It was actually wrong. I don’t think that I’m… I mean, I don’t think that’s really it. I’m not still mad at you.”
Dan raises his eyebrows.
“Okay, what really is wrong, then?”
Phil takes a deep breath, blows it out through his lips. He looks like he’s gathering his forces for a speech, but then someone jostles his shoulder as they brush past, and he darts another glance at the crowds.
“Look, I don’t think this is the best place for this,” he says.
Dan can’t help but agree.
“You wanna come over to mine instead?” Phil offers.
Dan is about to point out that the coffee shop is only a few steps away, but it is late afternoon, and workers are pouring out of the buildings around them in a rush to get home from their work day, and anywhere they go is likely to be full to the brim with people.
“Yeah, all right,” he agrees.
It’s an awkward ride for the both of them. Every car is full, and they’re forced to stand, bodies squished together by the crowd of people around them. Dan can feel the rough cloth of Phil’s jacket rubbing against his chest with every sway and jostle of the train. And of course there’s their interrupted conversation, hanging tense and unresolved between them. Dan’s dying to know what Phil had been planning to say, and at the moment he can’t even look at Phil’s face to study it and try to guess. At least Phil lives only a few stops away.
He’s been over to Phil’s place a handful of times in the past few months. Already it is becoming familiar. He doesn’t have to pay attention as he follows him blindly to his door and inside and to the sofa, which is probably a good thing as he only has eyes for Phil.
He gives him just a moment to get settled before he presses on.
“So, what’s going on, then?”
Phil’s looking up at him, meeting his gaze at last, and within Phil’s eyes he can see the fear so plainly now. It’s taken him all these months to even begin to learn to read Phil again, but now it’s all there, laid bare before him.
“When you left…” Phil stops and takes a deep breath, drawing his forces about him again. “It was awful, Dan. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. All I could think about was talking to you again.”
Dan nods.
“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I wish I’d contacted you sooner--”
“No, not that,” Phil says, waving his hands. “I mean, when you left last night.”
“Oh,” Dan says.
“After you left, I just… I was so afraid that you would never come back. I realized I was so terrified of losing you… I wasn’t mad at you at all, Dan. I’m just...terrified of messing up and losing you again.”
“Then...why did you say you were mad at me?” Dan asks slowly.
“Because I thought I was,” Phil says at once. “All I could think about was how much it hurt when I lost you before… That’s what I always think about.” Phil frowns and then lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because this is what I do in relationships, Dan. I start to get happy. I start to enjoy them, and then I get scared. I get scared that if I get invested again, I’ll get hurt again, so I find some way to fuck them up.”
“So that’s what the other night was?” Dan asks, eyebrows raised again. “Your way of fucking things up so I couldn’t hurt you again?”
Phil gives a helpless little shrug.
“I guess.” He pauses, breathing in and out once. “But usually once the other person is gone, I just feel sad and kind of relieved. Or angry with myself for not being able to try harder. But with you...I was so afraid you weren’t going to come back,” he says again. “I just kept thinking of anything I could say or do to get you to come back.”
“Well, I’m here,” Dan states, spreading his hands open. They both see right away that the gesture is a challenge. So Phil’s gotten what he wants. Dan is here. And what is Phil going to do about it?
Phil looks down at the two empty palms for a moment before shifting his gaze back up to the face of their owner.
“Why did you come back?” he asks. “I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me ever again.”
Dan considers. The truth is he’d come back because he’d thought this was about him. He’d thought it was about his mistakes, the ways that he had wronged Phil. He’d thought he would come here and Phil would set a penance for him, some way he could fix things, make up for the past. And maybe that was fucked up -- that he’d been so eager to come here and crawl on his knees and beg Phil to take him back -- but it wasn’t any less fucked up than Phil making him beg in the first place.
But now here he is, and Phil isn’t asking him to beg. Phil is asking him to forgive. He is asking him to accept that they are both a little broken, that this whole relationship is a little broken. And maybe he is asking him to accept that there isn’t really any way to fix it. Because they are both so invested already -- god, how could he have deluded himself that he wasn’t already up to his neck in Phil -- and no matter how much it hurts to be together, they are both convinced it would hurt more to stay apart.
He shakes his head. They can’t go on this way. If nothing else, he has to keep himself sane for Esther and Hannah’s sake.
So why is he still here?
“I came back,” he tells Phil at last, “because even after everything you said…” He pauses and looks up into Phil’s eyes that are fixed on him like he’s a judge about to read a verdict. “Even after that, I still couldn’t wait to see you again.”
Phil is still staring at him, but his eyelids have fallen a little lower and his lips have parted to show just a hint of their moist inner edge.
“You couldn’t?” Phil breathes out.
Dan shakes his head. This is madness. All of it is madness. But there’s a surge of something rising in him, something that’s urging him toward Phil -- all the worry and anxiety of these past few days has welled up within him, transformed into the profoundest feeling of relief and affection and hope and desire and--
“I think I’m in love with you,” he tells Phil. “Again,” he adds, with the tiniest breath of laughter.
Phil’s eyes drop completely closed, squeeze shut tight for a moment as a smile twitches onto his lips.
“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, me too.”
When Dan kisses Phil this time, it is full of all the same urgency as before, the same want, the same hurry. But this time there are no stairs or front door or babysitter to slow them up.
Phil’s hands are pulling at Dan’s jacket, and Dan’s fingers are fumbling at the buttons down the front of Phil’s shirt. They’re both half-naked before they notice how narrow the sofa is and Phil suggests they’d enjoy themselves more if they moved to his bedroom.
It’s just like Dan remembers, but better. Phil is just as gentle as he’d ever been, but he’s no longer the fumbling teenager still learning how everything works. Dan doesn’t have to teach Phil what to do anymore or worry that he’s moving things too fast -- though he has learned, in the intervening years, that faster isn’t always better. He’s learned patience, moderation, the exhilaration of a slow build.
Not that either of them is in the mood for slow this evening.
Phil has Dan on his back with his jeans on the floor and his pants around his knees within minutes. His mouth is here while his hands are there, and Dan lets himself go in the feeling of it, lets every concern slip away as though he is dissolving into Phil and the sound of Phil’s voice whispering in his ear how often he’s dreamed of doing this, how long he’s waited for this moment. How long they both have waited for it -- not the sex so much as the closeness. And when Phil sinks down onto him, the little moan he lets out is almost too much. Dan’s hands are impatient, holding, squeezing, urging them both on toward their highs. When Dan finally reaches his, it’s like everything dark inside him is whited out for a moment, like Phil has found a way to scour his insides perfectly clean, and he’s looking up at Phil’s face with the clearest vision he thinks he’s had in years.
Phil lays his head on Dan’s chest afterward, and Dan can feel the flutter of Phil’s heart against his abdomen. He reaches up and strokes Phil’s hair. It’s so soft and fine, runs through Dan’s fingers so easily, like water. He doesn’t remember them ever doing this before, Phil lying on him like this with one of Dan’s arms around his sweat-dampened back and the other reaching up to play with his hair. And Dan thinks that, for once, they’ve managed to do something new.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done that,” Dan murmurs after a while.
“Had sex with a man?” Phil murmurs back, his lips tickling the bare skin of Dan’s chest.
Dan lets out a quick snort of laughter that makes Phil’s head shake.
“No, not that. Right after the divorce, I kind of… You know, it was like a big ‘fuck you’ to my parents and the church and Maria and everything.” He pauses, lets out another, slightly more bitter laugh. “No, I meant… It’s been a long time since I’ve...um, made love, I guess.”
“Oh,” Phil says. Dan can’t see his face, and he kind of wishes he could right now. “It’s been a long time for me too.”
“I love you,” Dan says, because it’s true, and he can.
“I love you,” Phil says back, and the words sound simple and sincere. Dan feels that thing surging in his chest again, like he’s riding on the crest of an endless wave.
“I need to tell you something,” he says. He feels so brave and whole at this moment, like nothing can touch him, so he thinks this is the moment to say it. “I love you so much, and I want you in my life, but...my girls are the most important thing in the world to me. They need me to be there for them. They need steadiness and stability...and I’ve had a difficult time providing that for them these past few days.”
He pauses to give Phil a chance to take in what he is saying. Phil uses the moment to push himself up, planting an elbow either side of Dan so he can look down into his eyes. His serious expression seems at odds with the flush across his cheeks and the ruffled state of his hair.
“I know,” Phil says. “I’m sorry.”
Dan raises a hand and brushes his fingers over the faint pink along Phil’s cheekbone.
“I need to know that, if we’re going to do this, if we’re going to try this thing again, you’ll help me be what Esther and Hannah need me to be.”
Phil nods, a quick movement of the head up and down. He looks eager, his expression wide open for once.
“I want to help you with that, and with everything. I want...I want this to be real. I want to be in your life in a real way.”
Dan’s lips spread in a smile.
“I want that too,” he says and pulls Phil’s face down to his chest again.
He’s taking a chance, he thinks, trusting Phil not to sabotage things between them again. But of the two of them, Dan is the one who finds it easier to trust. If one of them is going to believe in this relationship, he thinks it will probably have to be him.
Phil meets Dan’s daughters for the second time two weeks later. The four of them meet at the London Zoo and spend a Saturday afternoon weaving in and out of the crowds and enjoying the animals. Both of the girls are cautious at first. Dan hasn’t told them yet that he and Phil are dating, so they know him as nothing more than their dad’s old friend who once showed up at their front door for no apparent reason.
It takes most of the day for them to warm to him, with Hannah clinging close to her dad’s side and Esther eyeing the newcomer with close scrutiny. But a couple of ice cream cones and a lively debate about the competing charms of giraffes and penguins later, Hannah has relaxed enough to reach for Phil’s hand instead of her dad’s when a passing stranger startles her, while Esther has already gotten to work trying to charm him into becoming her latest fan.
He and Dan share a glance as they part ways at the entrance to the zoo that evening. There’s a glow of happiness lighting Dan’s face, despite the lines of weariness worn into it from a day spent dealing with two energetic girls. His expression stirs something in the pit of Phil’s stomach, something almost like panic but also excitement. Things are going well, and so far, Phil isn’t feeling any urge to run.
He tells his mum about it the following afternoon when she rings him for her weekly check-in.
“They seemed to like me well enough,” Phil explains as he lounges on his sofa and browses his favorite shopping site.
“His daughters?” his mum’s voice asks from the other end of the line.
“Yeah, Esther and Hannah. I’ve told you about them before, right?”
“You have.” She pauses. Then, “I’m surprised he’s had you meet them so early on.”
“Well, I kind of already met them once, back when we first found each other again,” Phil says. “And we’ve not told them we’re dating yet. We figured it’s best to let them get to know me first.”
“Yes, that probably is for the best,” she says. “It’s always better to be careful when there are children involved.”
“Mm hmm,” Phil hums, half of his attention off his mum’s words and on the foot-massager shaped like a pair of monkeys that his favorite online shop has on sale at the moment. Dan’s birthday has already passed, and Phil’s isn’t for another four months… Maybe he could buy it as a birthday gift for his brother?
“I hope you aren’t taking that too lightly,” she adds after a moment, and his attention snaps back to her.
“Of course I’m not,” he says, a little surprised by his own indignance. “I know that what’s best for the girls comes before...well, anything else. Dan and I are in agreement on that.”
There’s a much longer pause on his mother’s end this time, and then he hears a noise that he is quite sure is a sniffle.
“Are you crying?” he asks.
“No, no,” she answers at once, but her voice has gone a little hoarse. “Just...got a little misty-eyed. You sounded just like a parent right then.”
The response Phil had been thinking up freezes in his throat. He wonders if she really means it. She’s mentioned on more than one occasion that she thinks he’d made a great father, but he’s always assumed that was nothing more than a way of hinting that she’d like to become a grandmother soon. Even a mild hint like that from his mum had always caused him panic in past relationships. Fatherhood meant settling down, planning long-term. It meant permanence, and every single relationship Phil has ever been in has been anything but. Yet here he is, promising Dan to make things work, to put his daughters’ needs above the terror he feels every time he contemplates the future.
His mother’s words are still simmering in the back of his mind five days later when he gets an unexpected call from Dan at 8:00 in the evening. They’d been on another outing with the girls the day before, just a short trip to the park with a picnic dinner and some dedicated playground time, and he and Dan had texted throughout the day today as they’d begun to do regularly. Dan had told him he was hoping for a quiet Friday evening at home, so it surprises Phil to see his phone lighting up with Dan’s name.
“Hey,” he says, answering almost immediately.
“Hey, are you free now?” Dan asks at once.
“Yeah…” Phil says, frowning to himself. “Do you want to come over?”
“No.” Dan sounds distracted. There’s a pause, and Phil can hear a small voice in the background -- Hannah, he thinks. Then he hears Dan’s voice answering, slightly distant, “Yes, just give me a moment, okay? Sorry about that,” he says directly into the phone again. “Something’s come up, and...I was wondering if you could come over to watch the girls for me. I tried Funmi and Lucy and everyone I could think of, but no one’s free on such short notice…”
“Oh, um,” Phil says, suddenly nervous. Dan wants him to watch his daughters...alone? Phil’s never taken care of kids by himself before. The idea of it sounds...intimidating. But Dan sounds desperate, so, “Okay. Yeah, I can… Do you need me to come right now?”
“If you can,” Dan shoots back immediately. His voice has gone lower, and from the lack of background sounds, Phil thinks he might have moved to a different room. “I got a call a half an hour ago… From Maria. She’s here, in London.”
Phil’s jaw drops a little.
“I don’t remember you mentioning she was going to visit,” he says slowly.
“Yeah, I don’t remember her mentioning it either,” Dan mutters. Then he lets out a short sigh. “I don’t know when she arrived, but she called and said she’s here in a hotel and wants to see the girls, and…” He pauses for a long time, long enough for Phil to sense the worry in him. “I’m going to go talk to her first,” Dan finally says.
“Right,” Phil nods. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” Dan sighs into the phone. “Really, you’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t mention it,” Phil mumbles and hangs up.
He knocks on Dan’s door at 8:43. Dan opens it with a tear and snot-streaked Hannah on one hip, Esther behind him with arms crossed over her chest, and hair that looks like it’s had a good working-over from his fingers.
“Thank god you’re here,” Dan says, pulling the door wider and stepping back to let Phil in.
“Why’s he here?” Phil hears Esther demand, and has to suppress a grimace. And here he’d been thinking the girls were starting to warm to him. “Where are you going?”
“I told you that I would explain later,” Dan calls over his shoulder as he carries the sobbing Hannah back into the living room. “Phil is helping me out by staying here with you two since I need to go out. I’ll be back just as soon as I can, but in the meantime, Phil will be here to help you with anything you need, okay?”
Phil looks down at Esther and smiles while Dan attempts to shush his younger daughter and set her down on the sofa. Esther glares up at him but then gives a curt nod.
“And you’re going to help Phil with anything he needs since he may not know where to find things, right?” Dan says as he peels Hannah’s arms from around his neck. She begins sobbing louder, and he transfers his attention to her. “Shh, shh, I’ll be back soon, okay, baby? You can stay up until I get back if you want to, okay? And I’ll be sure to tuck you in then.”
Hannah’s sobs subside a little, though she makes no response. Her sister comes over and sits on the sofa next to her, placing an arm around her small shoulders.
“Thank you, Esther,” Dan says, standing upright again and rubbing a little at his back. Hannah is getting a little too big to be carried, but this is an emergency. “You’re being such a great help to me right now.”
He steps back and then meets Phil’s eyes. Phil swallows down his rising panic and gives his boyfriend a reassuring nod.
“Okay,” Dan says, looking back at the girls, Hannah hunched over and hiccupping a little while her older sister rubs her back. “I’ll be back in just a couple of hours. Phil has my phone number and will call me if you need me.” He pauses, then bends over and drops a kiss on each of their heads. “I know I can count on you to take care of Phil while I’m gone.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Esther says. Hannah sniffles a little and rubs at her nose.
Dan steps away from them and motions Phil toward the door again.
Once there, he begins murmuring instructions in a quick, fluent undertone.
“Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I’ll text you the hotel address as soon as I’m in the taxi. They’ve both eaten, and it’s almost Hannah’s bed time. If she falls asleep, you can take her to her room, but let her stay up if she wants.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “It’s probably best to find something to distract them. I made the mistake of letting them see how worried I was, and...well, you can see the result.” He shakes his head a bit and reaches for the door. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“Don’t worry about us. Just leave it to me,” Phil says, amazed at how confident he sounds.
Dan gives him a brief smile, nods, and then he’s out the door.
Phil heads back into the living room to find the girls still sat there on the sofa. Esther looks up when he walks in, eyes slightly slitted as though she taking his measure. He clears his throat. Remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them… Wait, no, that’s not kids, that’s snakes.
“So,” he says, making his best attempt at a friendly grin, “if I remember correctly, we’re due for a re-match at Mario Kart.”
It’s close to 11:00 when Dan finally leaves the hotel and hails another taxi. The way the taxi driver stares at him as he climbs in makes him wonder if he looks as beat down as he feels. Less than two hours spent in Maria’s presence, and he remembers in a very distinct and immediate way exactly why their marriage had ended. There had been a lot of crying on her part, and ranting about how ungrateful their former fans were. Apparently the rebranding hadn’t exactly gone to plan. She’d come to London, she had said, to center herself...to see her family, her girls, and remind herself of who she’d used to be, who the fans had used to love.
“Where are the girls?” she’d demanded the moment he’d set foot in the massive hotel room she’d reserved for herself. She always had been a conspicuous consumer. “Did you bring them with you?”
“It’s too close to their bedtime,” Dan had reasoned. “I left them with a friend for now so that we could talk, just the two of us. So...what are you doing here?”
And that was when the tears had come. She’d stood there in the center of her gilded hotel room, back straight and head high, her tiny 5’4” frame swathed in a silk floral caftan, and she’d burst into beautiful tears that had left shining tracks in her thick foundation.
It had taken all of Dan’s skill at cajoling to soothe her, to get her to have a seat on the brocade-covered divan while he brought her a box of tissues and a sparkling water from the mini bar. And then it had taken all of his powers of diplomacy to convince her that he wasn’t interested in taking a tour of the hotel bed (“Just for old time’s sake?”) without causing her to dissolve into another round of tears. Somehow he’d managed to forget Maria’s tendency to throw herself at someone when she was feeling low.
But at last he’d managed to extricate himself with a promise that he’d bring the girls to see her tomorrow, that they’d go out and do something together, as a family. He’d had to grit his teeth over the word, keep himself from sharply reminding her how happy she’d been to pass off her parental duties just five months ago. But he’d held his tongue, if only because he could distinctly picture Hannah, tear-stained eyes droopy with sleep, stubbornly refusing to let herself drift off until her dad had come to tuck her in.
“I can’t wait to see my girls again,” Maria had exclaimed as she ushered him out the door, her black eyes shining once again with tears. “I’m sure they’ve missed me almost as much as I’ve missed them.”
“I’m sure they have,” he had murmured before hurrying out the door. He’d been afraid that if he’d seemed to linger, she might get the idea that he’d changed his mind about staying.
But now here he is in the taxi, pulling up outside his block of flats, and he’s paying the driver and getting out. He’s walking up the stairs, his whole body aching with a weariness that has as much to do with being emotionally drained as physically so. He puts his key in the door and pushes it open, pulling it quietly shut behind him before trudging down the corridor toward the living room. He can hear the sounds of a movie playing with the volume turned down low -- Beauty and the Beast, he thinks. He smiles a little to himself. Someone had finally managed to convince Esther to watch something other than Frozen. Apart from the movie, the flat sounds quiet, no crying, no arguing…
He reaches the door to the living room and stops. There they are on the sofa, his two girls, curled up and fast asleep, each with a head on one of Phil’s knees. Phil himself is sat in the center, a hand on each girl’s back, his gaze fixed on the movie that only he seems to be watching. There is a slight smile curling the corners of his lips, and Dan thinks he looks...content.
Dan has to step back around the corner again, back into the corridor where no one can see, because suddenly the tears are coming, quick and sharp.
More than a dozen years ago, he’d fallen in love with a boy -- a boy with wary eyes and bruises on his cheeks and a seemingly endless capacity to be amazed by the world around him. He’d fallen in love with a boy who, beyond his own ability to understand why, had fallen in love with him back, and for a few, brief months the two of them had lived in paradise.
Six months ago, he’d found a man, eyes made warier by having experienced paradise and then lost it. And it had seemed the man Dan had loved had lost that quality that Dan had once cherished the most -- that willingness to open himself up to the world, to take it in and savor it, to let it change him as it would.
All the way home from Maria’s hotel, Dan had thought about how grateful he was to Phil for helping him out this evening, for showing he was someone Dan and his girls could rely on. But standing here in his own front corridor, swiping tears from his cheeks, he knows that Phil is lucky to have them too.
He wakes in the middle of the night, in a room that is warm and full of the soft sounds of breathing. There is a body in the bed beside him. He isn’t awake, but he knows he is not alone. His hand almost feels like it wants to reach out and take hold of the person beside him, but he doesn’t. There is no need.
He stretches out his arms and stands from his desk. It’s warm here in the office, hot even. He’s spent much of the day wishing he’d worn a short-sleeved shirt to work. But the weather app on his phone tells him it’s a chill 5 C outside right now, so he grabs his coat and carries it over his arm all the way down in the lift to the lobby. When he reaches the front door of his building, the glass is spattered with drops of rain, glowing faintly white under overcast skies. He shrugs on his coat, steps outside, and raises his umbrella. Thank goodness Dan reminded him to take it with him this morning.
The tube is packed as usual, and bundled up in his winter raincoat as he is, it’s far too warm inside the crowded carriage, but the ride to their flat is blessedly short. When he and Dan had decided to move in together six months ago, they’d been fortunate enough to find a place that was relatively near his office without costing an arm and a leg. It had more space for the girls, too, which had been one of the main reasons they’d decided to look for a new place. They have a playroom now, with plenty of space for Hannah to sit and paint or Esther to pretend she is on stage in a sold-out arena.
It’s odd, he thinks to himself as he squeezes out of the carriage and onto the platform at their home station, but if you’d asked him eighteen months ago about what he had planned for the near future, it would never have even crossed his mind to suggest he might be a parent of two.
Well, he isn’t their parent in any legal sense, but he helps Hannah brush her teeth in the mornings and helps Esther with her homework in the evenings, and he is the one who always claps and cheers the loudest at the end of Esther’s vocal performances, and the one who had insisted Hannah’s art be framed and hung on the bare walls of their new place. And Hannah has taken to calling him Papa. Esther still refers to him as Phil, but there is no malice in the distinction.
When Dan had finally sat his daughters down and explained to them that he and Phil were dating, Esther had rolled her eyes and said, “Duh, Dad,” and Hannah had just giggled. And when Dan and Phil had both sat down with the girls and explained that Phil was going to stop spending the night so often and instead just live with them all the time, they’d both jumped and yelled as though they’d just been told they were getting a second Christmas. (And as a matter of fact, as much new furniture and decorations as they’d each gotten with the move, it might as well have been a second Christmas.)
He steps under the overhang that shelters the front entrance of their building and shakes the rain from his umbrella. It’s an especially cold November, and London is just as rainy as ever. He shivers a little and then ducks inside, glad to be in out of the wet.
The girls seem happy to have him around, but he does wish sometimes, for their sake, that their mum would come to visit again. It had been tough for all of them, that sudden visit of hers, disturbing the comfortable pattern their lives had begun to settle into. For months after, the girls had asked nearly every week when their mum would come to London again. Dan had called and emailed, even offered to take all three of them to Florida to see her, but somehow she always seemed to be too busy. Eventually, the girls had stopped asking.
He pauses outside the door of their flat, stamping his feet on the welcome mat to shed some of the drops of rain that cling to his shoes. He slips out of his coat too, shaking it out a little onto the absorbent mat.
Two Novembers ago, he never could have guessed that parenthood was just around the corner, or love, or happiness. He never could have guessed that anything at all was there.
His key makes a satisfying click in the lock. It’s always good to be home again, he thinks.
“Surprise!”
He’s only halfway through the door when the word stops him in his tracks.
“We baked a cake,” he hears Esther exclaim, and then he registers the scene in front of him. Dan is knelt on the floor in front of him, cake balanced on both palms, with Hannah reaching up both her own hands to steady the plate that holds it and Esther off to one side, arms flung out as though she is an emcee introducing a star. A grin takes over his face, and he meets Dan’s eyes, which are shining with happiness and….nervousness?
That’s when he notices that there’s something spelled out on the cake in icing, the handwriting so messy he isn’t sure whether Dan has written it or Hannah: “Will you make us a family a four?”
He blinks for a moment, feeling a stinging at the backs of his eyes. The “O” in the word “four” isn’t icing. It’s a ring, a simple platinum band.
Phil reaches up and brushes away a tear, and nods.
A/N: Here it is, my PBB 2016 fic. It has been a long and crazy adventure. I can’t believe it’s finally done.
First, I would like to thank @phangirlingforphan. Lily, you’re so amazing. Thank you so much for stepping up in the eleventh hour and getting me to where I needed to be. I have seriously loved working with you. I cannot thank you enough for all your help, support, and encouragement.
Secondly, I would like to thank @howellsankles. Navvy, you’re completely amazing. I’m so in love with your art which I tell you all the time it feels like. You’ve been a doll and a peach to work with. I can’t thank you enough for choosing my fic to do art for.
Thirdly, I would like to thank @amandapants. Amanda, have I told you how wonderful and amazing you are? I can’t thank you enough for all the love and support that you’ve given me. Even when you didn’t have a clue what was going on, you still pushed me through it. For that, I’m grateful.
Finally, I would like to thank all my wonderful lovelies. You guys are the reason I do anything. Without you guys, there wouldn’t be this blog and I wouldn’t be writing like I am. I cannot express my gratitude to you guys enough.
Word Count: 11,854
Warning: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Arguments
Summary: Photographs are great mementos. They hold the stories and memories of days gone past. Not every story or memory is a happy one though; and no one knows that better than Dan and Phil. One weekend and a photo album is all it takes to change everything.
A/N: Here it is, my PBB 2016 fic. It has been a long and crazy adventure. I can’t believe it’s finally done.
First, I would like to thank @phangirlingforphan. Lily, you’re so amazing. Thank you so much for stepping up in the eleventh hour and getting me to where I needed to be. I have seriously loved working with you. I cannot thank you enough for all your help, support, and encouragement.
Secondly, I would like to thank @howellsankles. Navvy, you’re completely amazing. I’m so in love with your art which I tell you all the time it feels like. You’ve been a doll and a peach to work with. I can’t thank you enough for choosing my fic to do art for.
Thirdly, I would like to thank @amandapants. Amanda, have I told you how wonderful and amazing you are? I can’t thank you enough for all the love and support that you’ve given me. Even when you didn’t have a clue what was going on, you still pushed me through it. For that, I’m grateful.
Finally, I would like to thank all my wonderful lovelies. You guys are the reason I do anything. Without you guys, there wouldn’t be this blog and I wouldn’t be writing like I am. I cannot express my gratitude to you guys enough.
Chapter 4
Word Count: 2,885
Warning: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Arguments
Summary: Photographs are great mementos. They hold the stories and memories of days gone past. Not every story or memory is a happy one though; and no one knows that better than Dan and Phil. One weekend and a photo album is all it takes to change everything.
Chapter 3
Art for this chapter
Ao3
Masterpost
Fanfic Masterlist
It’s Sunday morning. Sunlight streams through the windows. Dan would like nothing more than to hide in bed all day. His face is taut from crying himself to sleep. He rubs his face and winces as he moves his shoulder; it’s stiff from him clinging tightly to his pillow the night before.
Through the wall, Phil’s laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. His body is stiff from lying motionless for hours. He’s lying silently; listening for sounds of life in the flat. He’s unaware that Dan is doing the exact same thing.
Phil lays in bed as long as he can, his body and bladder screaming for comfort. He changes into different comfy clothes and heads to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Dan listens to Phil’s footsteps fade away towards the bathroom. He waits until he’s certain that Phil is in the lounge before he even considers coming out of his room.
Nearly an hour later, Dan enters the lounge. His hair curly and slightly damp from showering. His eyes wander around the room, the television is playing some reality program and Phil’s at the end of the couch. His knees are against his chest and his arms are wrapped loosely around his legs with his chin resting on top.
Dan can feel his heartstrings tug and clench at the sight. It’s all Dan’s fault that Phil’s upset and not his usual sunshine self. He just had to yell at the man and become defensive. Phil didn’t do anything wrong except ask for the truth. He asked for an explanation for all the tension they have been living with for years. Dan is completely aware that he’s messed up.
Phil watches Dan wander back out of the lounge out of the corner of his eye. Dan looks only slightly better than Phil, but not by much. The only difference between the two being that Dan has showered today and Phil hasn’t.
He heard Dan last night. He listened to the sobs that wracked the man’s body. It made Phil feel awful. He wanted nothing more than to go and cuddle Dan. He would have loved to assure him that everything will be alright. Phil can’t do that though. He hasn’t been able to do that in a long time.
Dan returns to the lounge with a bowl of cereal in his hand and sits down next to Phil. His quiet munching mingles with the voices coming from the television. They sit in the uncomfortable silence. Dan finishes his cereal and sets his empty bowl next to Phil’s on the coffee table.
The words of their fight ring in their ears. Both know that they have to discuss and apologize for the things they said. Phil doesn’t want them to do what they usually do after a fight. They usually give half hearted apologies and sweep everything under the rug.
Phil can’t keep doing that. Lately, he’s been imagining what it would be like to move out and move on with his life. He can’t go though. It’s the same reasons he convinced Dan to stay all those years ago. They work better as a team then they do as individuals. Also, there’s still a part of Phil that cares for Dan beyond their business partnership.
Resentment has been building inside of Dan for years now. Some days he wishes that he had never met Phil. Some days he wishes that he would have walked out all those years ago. Deep down, he knows that’s not true. He knows that Phil is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Together, they have gotten to do so many amazing things; things he would never have gotten to do or wanted to do without Phil by his side.
Phil grabs the remote and clicks off the television. The uncomfortable silence screams extremely loud. Dan focuses his gaze to his lap. He can’t bare to look at Phil. Phil shifts on the couch. He puts his left foot on the ground and tucks his right foot under his left leg. His hands are loosely placed in his lap.
Dan watches Phil shift out of the corner of his eye. He keeps his gaze down. He can see Phil watching him and biting on his lower lip. He can see the gears turning inside the man’s head. Dan knows that he’s going to say something. He is hoping against all hope that Phil doesn’t say anything, that they can just do what they always do: apologize and move on. It’s not a good system, but it’s theirs and it’s what they’ve been doing for years.
“We need to talk.” Phil says. His voice is small, but sure. Dan swallows hard. He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t even glance in Phil’s direction.
“Please no Phil.” Dan begs. His voice quivers slightly. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose. Phil bites his lip and shakes his head.
“No Dan. We need to talk about this. We can’t keep going on like this. We can’t keep pretending that everything is fine. Please Dan. I’m begging you. Please. Please can we talk?” Phil’s voice breaks slightly by the end. Dan inhales sharply in his nose.
A war has broken out in Dan’s brain. Part of him is screaming at him to do what he always does. He should mutter an apology he doesn’t really mean and then run away. The other part of his brain is telling him to listen to Phil. Phil’s right. They can’t go on like this any longer. They’re both miserable and people have been noticing. People have been asking them what’s wrong for years, but lately it’s been harder to hide their problems.
“You’re right.” Dan whispers. Phil’s eyes go wide and his mouth becomes slightly agape. He gasps. Everything slows down and his vision narrows solely on Dan.
“Wh-what?” Phil stutters out. Dan waits a beat.
“You’re right. We need to talk. We can’t keep doing this.” Dan states. His voice sounds a bit monotone. It’s not out of boredom, but out of defense. Phil shakes his head and composes himself. He bites the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t know what to think of Dan’s sudden change of heart or his current tone. He decides to just go with it and not think about it too much.
“Where do you want to start?” Phil asks. Dan pauses for a moment; debating whether they start with yesterday or all those years ago. Even though yesterday’s fight was about all those years ago, the incidences are completely different things.
“Maybe we should start with yesterday and work our way back.” Dan suggests. Phil nods his head. Neither of them say anything. Both are waiting for the other to break the silence.
“I would like to apologize for my anger yesterday. I realize that getting mad and yelling is not going to get us anywhere. I’m sorry.” Phil apologizes. Dan nods his head. He agrees. Yelling and screaming at each other has never gotten them anywhere. They should have learned that years ago, but they’re both a bit stubborn and dense. Plus, it’s hard to remember that when they’re so angry at each other.
“Thank you for apologizing. I appreciate it. I’m sorry for yelling at you. I know that it won’t fix anything. We’ve been living with anger and hurt for so long. It’s hard to remember what it’s like without it.” Dan says. Phil nods.
“Thank you. Why did you freak out yesterday?” Phil asks. Dan thinks for a moment; trying to get his words in order.
“I felt attacked. You were yelling at me that everything was my fault. Everything was not my fault.” Dan says. His voice slightly wavers in the middle. He coughs painfully to displaces the lump forming in his throat.
“Yes it was, but not completely.” Phil says. Dan eyes goes slightly wide. He can feel the heat of anger starting to spread through his chest. He takes a few deep breaths and calms himself down.
“That was kind of backhanded there Phil,” Dan retorts. His words are teetering on the edge of heated. Phil takes a deep breath. Dan’s right. Those were not the words that he wanted to say. His mouth went quicker than his brain.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I meant that we are both to blame.” Phil explains. Dan nods his head.
“Yes we are.” Dan says. For the first time, he admits it out loud.
“Why did you break up with me?” Phil asks with hesitation. Dan pauses and bites his lips. This is the dreaded question.
“I was upset. I was stressed and I felt attacked. I felt like everyone was expecting me to be a certain way. I felt like I couldn’t be myself. So I freaked out. I ran away from you because you were part of what people expected me to be. It wasn’t you. You made me happy, but I couldn’t handle everything.” Dan explains. Phil falls silent. He’s not sure what to think, but he’s slightly relieved to know that it didn’t have anything to do with him personally. For years, Phil blamed himself for their demise.
“You know that you don’t have to be anyone but yourself. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. The only thing that matters is what you think.” Phil says. Dan nods his head.
“I know that now. I wish I knew that then.” Dan whispers. Phil gives Dan a sad half smile. He feels for him. Phil can see how haunted Dan has become because of his past actions.
“Why do you feel like you’re the victim?” Dan asks before Phil has a chance to respond. Phil thinks for a moment.
“I guess it’s because you’re the one who dumped me. You’re the one who would scream at me and blame me for things. It was easier for me to blame you for everything. I never took responsibility for my part. For that I’m sorry. You were fighting me and I didn’t do anything to stop you. I let you go. I didn’t fight for you. I’m so sorry Dan.” Phil explains.
Tears start to form in his eyes. Dan puts his hand out and caresses Phil’s hand. Phil smiles slightly and sniffles. Dan smiles at him. They lapse into their first comfortable silence in months.
“Why did you ask me why I kept you here?” Phil asks. Dan bites his lip. He retracts his hand. Phil frowns, already missing Dan’s touch. Dan sighs.
“On the bad days, I feel trapped. I’m aware that I’m part of the reason that we are the way we are. I just feel trapped sometimes.” Dan explains. Phil can understand that. There has been more than one occasion that he has felt trapped to stay with Dan.
“I understand that. I would have never forced you to do anything you don’t want to. I asked you to stay because it was the best for our careers. Looking back on it, it was a selfish act. I figured that I would have you around in whatever capacity I could get. I made us miserable because of my selfishness. I just couldn’t bare to let you go.” Phil explains. His voice is a sad whisper. Dan breaths in and out hard. He always suspected that Phil had an alternative motive, but now it’s been confirmed. It’s actually somewhat bittersweet because Dan had hurt Phil so much that he used their careers in order to keep them in each others’ lives.
“I figured it was something like that. I’m grateful that you did though. We’ve done so much that we wouldn’t have if we let each other go. Thank you for that. I’m really appreciative of that.” Dan says. Phil smiles. He’s happy to hear that Dan doesn’t completely hate him for convincing him to stay.
Dan slides towards. He wraps his arms around Phil and envelopes him in a hug. He slightly surprised at his actions, but Phil looked like he needed a hug. If he were honest with himself, Dan really needed a hug as well. Phil stiffens with shock. His mind goes blank. This is the most contact he’s had with Dan in years.
Phil’s mind finally catches up with his reality. He moves his arms and wraps them around Dan. He hugs him tight. They shift slightly so that they’re resting their heads on each others shoulders. They sit there silently while relishing in each others’ presence. It’s like all the hurt is slipping away from them the longer that they hold each other.
“I’ve missed you.” Phil confesses. His voice is barely audible, but it’s right in Dan’s ear. Dan’s breath catches in his throat. He slowly exhales through his nose.
“I missed you too.” Dan professes. He can feel Phil smile against his shoulder. Phil pulls back so that he can look Dan in the face.
“I never stopped loving you; not completely at least. I guess some part of me will always love you.” Phil whispers. Tears suddenly spring into Dan’s eyes. A soft sob escapes his lips. Phil pulls him back into a hug. Thoughts flood Dan’s head. He has done nothing to deserve Phil’s continuous love. He figured that Phil would have thrown his feelings away years ago. He didn’t deserve Phil.
Phil slowly rubs Dan’s back. “Why are you crying?” Phil asks. Dan continues to sob. Phil continues to whisper reassuring things in his ear and rub his back until he calms down.
He feels lighter; as if he cried all the negative feelings out of his body. Dan sniffles quietly a few times before pulling back to look at Phil. Dan’s eyes are red and a few tears still linger on his cheeks. Phil moves and wipes the stray tears from Dan’s face. Dan smiles slightly at the feeling of Phil’s touch.
“I still love you. I’ve missed you and have been kicking myself for letting you go. I’m so sorry Phil. I’m so sorry.” Dan babbles out his apology. Phil places his hands on Dan’s shoulders and shushes him.
“Hey. Hey. Hey. Don’t be sorry Dan. You’ve already apologized. It’s okay. I forgive you.” Phil coos. Dan stops and stares at Phil.
“You forgive me? Even after how horrible I was? After everything I put you through? After everything we’ve lived with for years?” Dan asks. Phil nods his head and smiles.
“Yes Dan. You mean so much to me. I will always forgive you.” Phil explains. Dan wraps Phil in a tight hug.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Dan whispers with elation in Phil’s ear. He kisses his cheek. Phil’s face flushes pink. A small giggle slips past his lips. Dan pulls back and smiles at Phil.
They sit there and smile at each other. Phil leans back on the couch and pulls Dan down along with him. They shift so that they can comfortably cuddle. It feels exactly how it should be. It feels right.
“Is this okay?” Phil whispers. Dan nods his head against Phil’s chest.
“This is perfect.” Dan whispers in response.
They lay on the couch and watch the sunset through the window. The room becomes gradually darker as the light slips away; yet, neither makes a move to turn on a light. They talk in hushed whispers about everything: everything that had hurt them over the years, all the thoughts they wanted to tell the other person, and everything that has happened in their lives since their last actual conversation.
They also discuss where they’re going from here. They’ve decided to take it slow and work on their friendship before attempting another relationship. They decide that they’re just going to keep their relationship between themselves. They aren’t going to let things like fans or their careers come between them.
Once darkness has overtaken the room, they sit up and stretch. Phil makes his way across the room and turns on the light. He goes to walk into the kitchen in search of food, but suddenly he stops short. Dan has a hold of his wrist and pulls him back towards himself. Phil stumbles into Dan’s warm torso. Dan wraps his arm around Phil’s waist and steadies him.
“Why did you stop me?” Phil asks, turning to face Dan.
“I want to take a picture.” Dan responds before grabbing his phone off of the coffee table. Phil tilts his head and looks at Dan with confusion.
“Why? We look like crap” Phil counters with a grimace. Dan smiles.
“I figured we should commemorate the day that we made up. Plus there is a lot of space left in the photo album.” Dan explains. Phil smiles and nods his head in agreement.
Dan opens his phone in front camera mode. Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist and snuggles against his chest. Dan wraps his arm around Phil’s waist and pulls him close. Phil catches sight of them on Dan’s phone. They’re both are disheveled and like they have had a long, tiring afternoon. With matching smiles, Dan snaps a picture. This picture represents so much. It represents them moving on from the past and heading towards new beginnings.
A/N: Here it is, my PBB 2016 fic. It has been a long and crazy adventure. I can’t believe it’s finally done.
First, I would like to thank @phangirlingforphan. Lily, you’re so amazing. Thank you so much for stepping up in the eleventh hour and getting me to where I needed to be. I have seriously loved working with you. I cannot thank you enough for all your help, support, and encouragement.
Secondly, I would like to thank @howellsankles. Navvy, you’re completely amazing. I’m so in love with your art which I tell you all the time it feels like. You’ve been a doll and a peach to work with. I can’t thank you enough for choosing my fic to do art for.
Thirdly, I would like to thank @amandapants. Amanda, have I told you how wonderful and amazing you are? I can’t thank you enough for all the love and support that you’ve given me. Even when you didn’t have a clue what was going on, you still pushed me through it. For that, I’m grateful.
Finally, I would like to thank all my wonderful lovelies. You guys are the reason I do anything. Without you guys, there wouldn’t be this blog and I wouldn’t be writing like I am. I cannot express my gratitude to you guys enough.
Chapter 3
Word Count: 2,200
Warning: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Arguments
Summary: Photographs are great mementos. They hold the stories and memories of days gone past. Not every story or memory is a happy one though; and no one knows that better than Dan and Phil. One weekend and a photo album is all it takes to change everything.
Chapter 2
Art for chapter 1
Ao3
Masterpost
Fanfic Masterlist
Sometimes the most insignificant things can have the greatest impact. These are things that, in the moment, you don’t give a passing thought to. Only once they’ve happened do you realize their significance.
The picture is selfie of them. They’re squished together wearing matching smiles and laughter on their lips. The picture is so zoomed in on them that the background really isn’t visible. It might be a park structure or maybe a building in the left hand corner. A sliver of unfocused green on the right side indicates that there was at least some plant life behind them.
It’s was taken somewhere in Manchester, that much they do know. There’s nothing particularly special about this picture in the general sense. Specifically, this picture speaks a thousand words. Phil can see the story behind it very clearly. He can see everything the boys in the picture are about to go through like it’s a movie playing in his head.
Phil stares silently at the picture as if he’s a statue. Dan pulls the album completely into his lap and Phil doesn’t try to prevent him. He frantically flips through the rest of the pages of the book. That’s it. It’s the last picture in the book. The rest of the pages are blank.
“Why is that the last picture?” Dan asks, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He has a inkling, but his brain refuses to confirm it. Phil bites his lip.
“It’s the last picture we took together.” Phil answers. His voice is minuscule and barely above a whisper. He reluctantly looks up at Dan. Dan’s fringe has fallen in his face. His brow is knitted and frustration is written all over his face.
“We’ve taken pictures since then.” Dan counters after a beat. Phil feels himself nodding unintentionally. Dan’s right, but so very wrong at the same time. This photo is different. This photo is more important than the others that they’ve taken since it.
“You’re right.” Phil agrees. This statement does nothing to alleviate Dan’s confusion. He still flips through the last pages of the book. As if their recent pictures would magically appear.
“So why is this the last picture?” Dan asks again. Phil sighs. He doesn’t mean for it to be audible, but Dan can be really dense sometimes. Dan glares at Phil; not harshly, but with annoyance as if he’s speaking in riddles.
“It was the last picture we took as a couple.” Phil states in a murmur. Dan’s face untangles with realization. Phil’s words hang heavy in the tension filled air.
“Oh,” Dan says. Phil contorts his lips into a hard line. The air between them in thick. They’ve never really talked about that period in their lives, at least not properly. They haven’t even really mentioned it since it occurred. Phil takes a deep breath and swallows hard.
“Yeah. You had your meltdown a few weeks later. Remember?” Phil blurts out. The words rush out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop them. Dan stiffens. Phil sits frozen with his eyes locked on Dan.
The meltdown in question was different than the one Dan had over his schooling. Dan was freaking out over people thinking they were together and he was feeling the pressure to come out. He had gotten an over inflated ego about how his channel was taking off which didn’t help the situation. Dan had taken his frustrations out on Phil.
He made Phil’s life a living hell for months. Sometimes, late on a particularly bad night, Phil can still hear Dan screaming about how everything was Phil’s fault and how he didn’t deserve everything that was happening to him.
Phil would give anything to never go back to that time again. He’s not exactly thrilled with the way things are between them nowadays, but he will take this over crying himself to sleep every night and being afraid of stepping out of line. Now, they’re standing in front of the door they shut that period of their lives behind. Phil’s not too sure he wants to see what’s still lurking on the other side.
Dan’s brain is screaming for Phil to be wrong. He continues flipping through the album as if pictures are magically going appear. He knows that they’re not. Phil’s right, at least with the timeline of things. He had his meltdown and things went to shit. Phil watches Dan slowly breath out, rolls his shoulders, and relaxes his body a bit. He slowly lets out the breath he’s been holding.
“Not my fault.” Dan says with a nonchalant tone. Phil hasn’t even finished exhaling before he inhales sharply. He blinks his eyes and when they open, all he sees is red. His mind is starting to go into overdrive.
“Not your fault? What do you mean ‘not your fault’?” Phil hisses. His voice has a sharp edge to it. Dan looks over at Phil with bewilderment is written all over his face.
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s not my fault that we broke up so it’s not my fault that this is the last picture in the book.” Dan says as he gestures to the picture. The book still lays open in his laps. Phil’s practically fuming.
“Oh really? I remember you breaking up with me. Hence, your fault.” Phil spits at him. Dan clenches his jaw.
“There you go again. Playing the victim,” Dan huffs out. Phil’s eyes open wide and his jaw drops to the floor.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Phil throws out. Dan rolls his eyes and sighs.
“Forget it.” Dan murmurs. He pushes the album onto the coffee table before he gets himself off the couch and walks out of the lounge. Phil watches his retreating figure until Dan’s door shuts with a slam.
Once the door shuts, Phil lets out a sigh. The turns to face the rest of their lounge, bringing his arms up, and resting them on his knees. His eyes land on the open album in front of him. The smiling versions of their past selves stare up at him in an almost mocking way. He lets out a small scream of frustration before slamming the album shut. Then, he drops his head into his waiting palms in defeat.
Phil sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. He tugs his head up and rests his chin on his his palm. He stares out the window, watching as darkness settles over the city and the room. His mind is a violent whirlpool; thoughts and memories assaulting him at every turn. Phil lets out a groan of irritation.
He can’t let this go. He can’t forget it. He’s ignored everything for far too long. He wants answers. He deserves answers. Phil’s not going to let them go on like this any longer. He leaps off of the couch and marches down the hall like a man on a mission. It’s a few quick strides before he’s standing outside of Dan’s door. He raises his hand to knock, then stops himself.
A moment of doubt flashes through his mind. He starts to question if he can really confront Dan like he should have years ago. Phil shakes his head. He figures it’s now or never. Before he can talk himself out of it again, he knocks on Dan’s door.
Dan has laid on his bed for the better part of an hour. When he first got into his room, he paced around for a while. Once his anger had dispelled somewhat, he laid on his bed, staring at his ceiling. His mind tormented him. His thoughts were jagged, incomplete, and incoherent. He could feel his blood boiling under his skin. A knock at his door tears him out of his head.
He waits for a moment. He knows Phil is on the other side of the door. Dan hopes that if he doesn’t answer, then he will go away. His hope is dashed when Phil knocks again. Reluctantly, Dan gets off his bed and answers the door.
“What do you want?” Dan asks once he opens the door. Phil jumps, his hand frozen in mid knock. He drops his hand to his side and clears his throat.
“I don’t want to forget it.” Phil says. His voice quiet, meek, and unsure sounding. Dan tilts his head to the side and turns his ear slightly in Phil’s direction. He’s not sure if he heard Phil correctly.
“I’m sorry. What?” Dan asks. Phil takes a deep breath. His knees are slightly shaking, but he’s hoping his bit of confidence can hold out.
“I said that I don’t want to forget it.” Phil tries again. His voice is louder and clearer this time. Dan can’t pretend he didn’t hear him this time.
“Well I do.” Dan states. He tries to shut the door, but Phil puts his arm out to stop him. Dan sighs and lets the door spring open. He steps back into his room and Phil follows.
“We need to talk about it.” Phil says. Dan’s stood near his windows with his arms crossed defensively across his chest. Phil’s still in front of the door, leaving Dan without an exit strategy.
“Why?” Dan asks. He focuses his gaze on Phil. Phil bites his lips; thinking carefully about his words.
“We can’t go on like this anymore.” Phil starts. Dan furrows his brow and narrows his eyes at the man.
“Like what? We’re fine.” Dan says harshly. Phil rolls his eyes at the blatant irony of Dan’s statement.
“We are not fine. We haven’t been fine for a long time. You know that.” Phil spits back. Dan rolls his eyes.
“You’re crazy.” Dan states while pointing an accusing finger at Phil. Shock crosses Phil’s face.
“I’m not crazy. You’re crazy. We clearly need to talk about this.” Phil shoots back. He gestures his hands wildly in Dan’s direction. Dan lets out a forced sigh and marches across the room.
“No we don’t. Now drop it.” Dan spits as he uses his shoulder to shove past Phil. He marches down to the lounge. His heavy steps echo throughout the flat. Phil arrives behind him a moment later.
“Yes we do Dan.” Phil tries again. Dan’s fist are balled at his side. He’s stood at the opposite side of the lounge in an attempt to get far away from Phil.
“No we don’t! Why do you want to keep rehashing the past?” Dan yells. Phil’s taken aback for a moment. They haven’t screamed at each other in years. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. His eyes are cold and focused when he opens them once again.
“I need to know why.” Phil states. His voice is icy and eerily calm.
“Why what?” Dan asks. His voice his harsh and sounds like he’s spitting fire.
“Why did you do it? Why did you break up with me? Why did you treat me like shit?” Phil asks. Dan lets out an exasperated sigh. He drags his hand slowly over his face.
“Why do you do that?” Dan asks, not answering Phil’s questions.
“Do what?” Phil asks with confusion in his voice.
“Make yourself the victim.” Dan states. Phil narrows his eyes.
“I’m not playing the victim. I am the victim.” Phil states. Dan groans.
“No you’re not. You never were. If anyone is the victim here, it’s me.” Dan says. His voice raises in volume as he speaks, but he’s no longer yelling. Phil scoffs at his words.
“You? You’re not the victim Dan. You’re the reason I’ve gone through hell.” Phil states.
“There you go again. Making yourself out to be the victim!” Dan yells. He’s gesturing at Phil. Phil crosses his arms and raises his defenses.
“I am the victim.” Phil states flatly. Dan rolls his eyes, grabs his hair, and lets out a scream of frustration.
“Why did you keep me here then? Why did you make me stay if I make your life hell?” Dan asks.
“You’re making it sound like I’ve forced you to be here.” Phil retorts, ignoring the questions.
“You might as well have!” Dan screams. Phil’s slightly taken aback at Dan’s sudden change in volume, but he quickly gives into the anger boiling inside of him.
“I never forced you to stay Dan! You can get off of that soap box real quick!” Phil screams back.
“This is why I never wanted to talk about this! You’re not even listening to me!” Dan screams.
“You’re not listening to me!” Phil counters. Dan screams again in frustration. He takes a sharp, deep breath.
“This conversation is over.” Dan states firmly. He moves towards the door. Phil moves to block it.
“No. Not until we talk about this.” Phil counters. He tries to stop Dan from leaving.
“We’re done talking.” Dan states. He shoves Phil to the side before hustling down the hallway. He slams his door and flops onto his bed.
Dan grabs his pillow and buries his face in it. Tears pool in his eyes so he rubs his face in the pillow and sniffles a few times. The tears stream down his cheeks anyway.
A/N: Here it is, my PBB 2016 fic. It has been a long and crazy adventure. I can’t believe it’s finally done.
First, I would like to thank @phangirlingforphan. Lily, you’re so amazing. Thank you so much for stepping up in the eleventh hour and getting me to where I needed to be. I have seriously loved working with you. I cannot thank you enough for all your help, support, and encouragement.
Secondly, I would like to thank @howellsankles. Navvy, you’re completely amazing. I’m so in love with your art which I tell you all the time it feels like. You’ve been a doll and a peach to work with. I can’t thank you enough for choosing my fic to do art for.
Thirdly, I would like to thank @amandapants. Amanda, have I told you how wonderful and amazing you are? I can’t thank you enough for all the love and support that you’ve given me. Even when you didn’t have a clue what was going on, you still pushed me through it. For that, I’m grateful.
Finally, I would like to thank all my wonderful lovelies. You guys are the reason I do anything. Without you guys, there wouldn’t be this blog and I wouldn’t be writing like I am. I cannot express my gratitude to you guys enough.
Chapter 2
Word Count: 3,864
Warning: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Arguments
Summary: Photographs are great mementos. They hold the stories and memories of days gone past. Not every story or memory is a happy one though; and no one knows that better than Dan and Phil. One weekend and a photo album is all it takes to change everything.
Chapter 1
Art for chapter one
Ao3
Masterpost
Fanfic Masterlist
The next few pages show the ends of their secondary school years. Photos from dances, graduation, and random hangouts are spread out across the pages. They don’t really discuss anything significant. They simply make a comment here and there or wondering what happened to people they use to know.
Dan stops on a picture and stares longingly at it. Phil notices him intently fixating on the picture. He furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something.
“Do you remember this night?” asks Dan, beating him to it. He slowly drags his finger down the front of the picture. Phil looks at the photo and remembrance floods his brain.
“Yes I do. Do you?” counters Phil, raising his brow in Dan’s direction.
“Of course. It was the best night of my life.” Dan states. His voice sounds far away and his eyes don’t look as if they’re registering anything in front of him.
The bass is thumping. People are packed in everywhere. The drinks are flowing in the kitchen. The light scent of smoke lingers in the air. Everyone is in various states of inebriation.
Dan had been psyching himself out all week about attending this party. He has gotten into the habit of avoiding situations that involve Phil and alcohol. Since coming to the realization that he has a huge crush on his best friend, Dan didn’t trust himself with alcohol in his system. So parties are definitely on his no way list. Not that he was an extremely social person to begin with.
Phil, however, had been looking forward to the party the whole week. Between working at his summer job and starting university soon, he just wants to unwind. He begged Dan all week until the other boy agreed to attend. Phil had even cheered with joy. Maybe, with a little liquid courage, he will finally tell Dan how he feels about him.
When they arrive, Dan makes a point to head straight for the alcohol. He pours Phil and him slightly, overly strong drinks. He’s hoping that the alcohol will calm his nerves. They stand on the edge of the living room; watching everyone dance. They are swaying slightly to the music. When their drinks empty, they head in search of refills.
They’ve become giggly about halfway through the next drink. They’ve abandoned the living room and are standing in the kitchen when suddenly Phil gasps. The loud noise causes Dan to jump slightly. He turns towards his best friend and lets out a chuckle. Phil’s standing next to him with eyes and mouth wide open; flapping his unoccupied hand up and down rapidly.
“Let’s take a picture for the book!” he shouts. Dan rolls his eyes, but agrees. Someone passes by and Phil stops them. He pulls his camera out of his back pocket and asks them to take their picture. After showing them how to work his camera, Phil gets into position next to Dan.
They’re standing in front of the door separating the kitchen from the living room. People blearily dance behind them. Dan’s on the right side and Phil’s on the left with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Each are holding a drink in their opposite hands.
Dan is looking straight at the camera. His skin is flushed and his hair is pushed back off his face. His eyes have a slightly glassy look to them. He’s obviously intoxicated. There is a wide, drunken smile on his lips.
Phil looks different. He’s not staring at the camera. His head is turned to the left and he’s looking directly at Dan. There is a soft, subtle smile on his face. His eyes are trained on Dan as if he’s the only person in the room. The look on his face could be described as love.
The person snaps the picture and then Dan turns to look at Phil. He finds himself gazing directly into the man’s deep, blue eyes. All the air rush out of his lungs. Phil pulls his arm off Dan’s shoulder and settles his hand on Dan’s hip. Dan slides his arm off Phil’s shoulder and settles on his waist. Neither of them make a move to remove themselves from the others’ embrace.
Phil’s handed his camera back, but he doesn’t notice. All he can see is Dan’s rich brown eyes. Dan watches as Phil’s eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips. He can feel his face heating up. Phil leans in and they both shut their eyes.
The kiss is just a gentle peck on the lips. It is soft and filled with hesitation. Phil pulls back all too soon and searches Dan’s eyes for affirmation. Dan places his cup on the counter and takes Phil’s face with his hands. His kiss is slightly firmer than Phil’s. His body slowly presses firmly against Phil’s and Phil steps back slightly, but quickly recovers. He starts moving his lips slowly against Dan’s, but quickly catches up. Sparks fill the tiny bit of air between them.
Dan slides his tongue across Phil’s lower lip. Phil opens his mouth to allow him access. Dan swears that the moment their tongues touch, his knees go weak. They move their lips in sync with each other for a few minutes until Dan pulls back. Both are panting slightly heavily. Phil can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. Dan’s wearing a matching one.
Phil sets his cup on the counter and grabs Dan’s hand. Dan furrows his brow with slight confusion, but allows himself to be pulled along. Phil leads him through the house until they find an empty bedroom. Phil pulls Dan inside and slams the door behind them.
He pushes the man up against the door and kisses him with furry. Dan gladly reciprocates. Their lips move sloppily over each other while their hands roam under their t-shirts and across warm, smooth skin. Dan pushes off the door and tugs Phil’s shirt over his head. He walks them backwards until Phil falls onto the bed. He takes off his own shirt before climbing on top to straddle Phil.
Phil moans as their crotches rub together. He flips them so that Dan’s pinned beneath him. He roughly grinds their crotches together and that elects a loud moan from Dan.
Dan pulls frantically at Phil’s trousers. He wants them off. He wants to feel their naked skin pressed together in the most sinful way. Phil quickly undoes Dan’s trousers and slides them down his legs. He crawls off the bed to dispose of the clothes before disposing of his own.
Phil climbs back onto the bed and straddles Dan. They both let out satisfying moans as their bare crotches come in contact with each other for the first time. Phil shifts back onto his knees, pulling their crotches away from one another. He gently grips Dan’s cock and starts stroking it.
“God Phil. Hurry up.” Dan pleads through gritted teeth. Phil scrambles off the bed and picks up his jeans. He pulls out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Right now, he’s grateful that he remembered to grab them before leaving earlier.
“Did you plan this?” Dan asks with a laugh. Phil rolls his eyes and smiles at him.
“No. Just hoping.” Phil explains. Dan nods; the lust that’s coursing through his body is preventing his brain from overthinking the situation. Phil settles between Dan’s wide spread legs. He coats his fingers with lube and slowly drags one around Dan’s hole. Dan lets out a small whine.
Phil slowly slides his finger inside. He waits a moment before moving his finger. It isn’t long before Phil’s able to add another finger. Dan scrunches his nose in discomfort. Phil waits a moment before he starts scissoring his fingers. Dan’s letting out soft noises. Phil adds a third finger and brushes Dan’s prostate in the process. Dan lets out a louder moan and arches his back from the spark of pleasure.
Dan’s begging Phil to hurry up. Phil’s cock is starting to ache so he removes his fingers and slides on the condom. He coats the outside in lube before lining himself up with Dan. Dan wraps his legs loosely around Phil’s waist. Phil looks up into Dan’s eyes.
“Are you sure?” Phil whispers. Dan reaches up and caresses Phil’s cheek with his hand.
“Yes,” Dan responds in an equally quiet, but heavy whisper. Phil attaches their lips as he slowly slides inside of Dan. It takes a while, but eventually he bottoms out. He pauses and waits for Dan to adjust. A few minutes later, Dan gives him the okay to move.
Phil pulls his hips back until only the head of his cock is left inside and slowly eases them forward. Dan grips Phil’s shoulder blades and buries his head in the crook of his neck. Phil slowly quickens his pace. He angles his hips and searches for Dan’s prostate. Dan tightens his legs around Phil’s waist.
Dan cries out when Phil finally hits his spot. Phil starts relentlessly fucking into his prostate. Dan’s just short of screaming. His noises are muffled due to his head being buried in Phil’s neck. He swears he could cum from Phil’s cock alone. Phil doesn’t give him a chance to find out. He reaches between them and grips Dan’s cock tightly. Phil’s stroking Dan in time with his with his thrusts. Dan’s clenching tight around Phil’s cock.
“Close.” they both grunt out at the same time. In any other moment, they would laugh at their synchronicity. Phil runs his thumb through Dan’s slit and it’s his undoing. Dan arches his back and paints both of their chests with his cum. Seeing Dan come undone beneath him causes Phil to orgasm. He slams roughly into Dan one final time and fills the condom.
Phil works them through their orgasms before pulling out. Dan lays motionless on the bed. He’s thoroughly fucked out. Phil ties off the condom and drops it into a nearby waste basket. He finds tissues on top of the dresser and uses them to clean them both off.
He manages to convince a tired Dan to put his boxers back on before they snuggle into the bed. Phil lays on his back and pulls Dan flush against his side. He stares up at the ceiling a moment before closing his eyes. He falls asleep with a smile on his face and Dan’s head on his chest.
“Why was that the best night of your life?” Phil asks Dan, pulling him out of his memory. He shakes his head and turns to face the other man.
“Huh?” he sputters. Phil sighs. Of course Dan wasn’t listening to him. Phil feels like it’s always one step forward, two steps back with Dan.
“I asked why was that the best night of your life?” Phil reiterates to Dan. He expects Dan to avoid the question, but is surprised to get an actual answer.
“We had sex for the first time and we started dating the next day. If we hadn’t had sex, we wouldn’t have ended up together.” Dan explains with a far off look in his eyes. He’s only vaguely aware of his words. Usually, he isn’t as open with Phil about his thoughts or feelings. The trip down memory lane has made his head fuzzy. Phil bites his lower lip hard before he huffs.
Phil reminds himself that technically if they hadn’t have kissed, they wouldn’t have ended up together. That’s just nitpicking though. Truthfully, if they never had sex, then they would have never started dating. If they never started dating, then they wouldn’t have broken up. If they hadn’t broken up, then they wouldn’t be basically strangers. That’s all semantics though.
The mood between them has soured due to their previous conversation. Dan’s suddenly hyper aware of himself. He can feel the heat radiating off his skin. His stomach is doing somersaults and he’s fidgeting in his seat. Everything he said in the conversation hits him like a ton of bricks. His mind is screaming at him to run, flee, do something; anything to not be here any longer.
Phil looks around the room; completely oblivious of everything that’s happening next to him. The sun has already set. The overhead light illuminates the space in a harsh glow. Dan stands up abruptly. The photo album is about to clatter onto the floor. However, Phil saves it at the last minute. He shoots Dan an annoyed look. Dan doesn’t notice because he’s trying to appear as normal as possible. He stretches and yawns before walking out of the lounge.
Phil sighs and rolls his eyes. He waits a minute to see if Dan will return. When the other man doesn’t, he places the album on the coffee table and follows Dan’s path out of the room. The previously cooperative Dan is gone and the annoying and selfish Dan has taken his place. Phil stands in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, and leans against the doorframe while watching Dan move around the kitchen.
Dan opens the cupboard and pulls out a glass and pours himself a drink. The microwave beeps and Dan opens the door to remove his food.
A hot plate full of Chinese takeout emerges from the microwave. Phil bites the side of his cheek. He’s pretty sure that Dan ate all his takeaway already and that would make the contents of the plate Phil’s take away. Dan grabs a fork and turns around, jumping slightly at the sight of Phil.
“You scared me.” Dan states with a slight breathiness to his voice. Phil grimaces at him.
“Clearly.” Phil responds flatly. Dan stares awkwardly around the room, waiting for Phil to move.
“I’m hungry and tired. Can we finish the rest of the album later?” Dan asks. His voice has a slight whine to it. Phil internally sighs.
“Yeah. Sure.” he says. His words come out with a hit of a dismissive tone. Dan doesn’t hear the inflection and smiles at him.
“Great. Later.” Dan says happily before squeezing past him. Phil has stepped back into the hallway, but barely out of the doorframe. He watches him retreat down the hall and into his room. Once the door shuts, Phil lets out a lengthy sigh.
He crosses the kitchen and looks in the fridge. His suspicions is confirmed as his takeaway is missing from the fridge. Phil slams the fridge door harder than necessary. As his emotions swirl around inside of him, he forces air out between his clenched teeth. Their last topic of conversation has put him in a less than stellar mood and this is just pushing him towards the edge.
Phil’s tired of Dan’s selfish attitude. Dan doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Phil seriously doesn’t know why he puts up with him anymore. He makes toast and a glass of warm milk before making his way to his room. He slams his door when shutting it. Phil knows that he’s being a bit childish, but it helps with the way he’s feeling. At least for a little bit.
He opens his laptop and starts browsing while he eats his ‘dinner’. Phil’s really not hungry. He would rather go to sleep and put this bizarre day behind him. An hour later, he’s laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. It’s still pretty early by his standards. He figures the sooner he goes to sleep, the sooner this day is behind him.
Phil is racking his mind trying to figure out what got into Dan today. He’s surprised that he agreed to looking through the album in the first place. Dan dislikes spending time with Phil unless he’s forced to. The boy was actually quite pleasant towards him. It makes his heart ache with nostalgia.
He replays over the day before rolling onto his side and groaning into his pillow. He can’t believe that he confessed to having a crush on Dan when they were fourteen. Why would I tell him something like that? Phil decides to blame it on them acting like they use to be. Exhaustion eventually overtakes him. He falls into a fitful and restless sleep.
Dan is up a lot later than Phil, as usual. He heard the slamming of Phil’s door and frowned to himself. He could guess that Phil did that on purpose. After all, Phil loves to do things on purpose to annoy Dan.
Phil loves making noise when he’s trying to film. He changes the channel when Dan’s watching television and he never offers Dan any food when he cooks. Dan’s fed up with Phil’s selfish attitude; it’s almost like Phil is trying to punish him. He tries to avoid spending time with him if he can because it’s the only way he knows to keep the peace.
That’s what makes the fact that Dan agreed to look through the album with him so surprising. Dan’s surprised at himself. He can’t say for sure why he agreed. Maybe it was for the chance to revisit his past or maybe it’s because he just wanted to remember the good times. The moments before everything went to shit.
Dan lays in bed and stares at his own ceiling. He replays the whole day and their conversations. He thinks back to the naive five-year-old who wished for Phil and him to be best friends forever. That poor kid has no idea what he’s in for. If he had a time machine, he would go back in time and warn the kid. Dan would tell him to stay away from Phil Lester because he’s only going to get his heart broken. That wouldn’t be fair to their past selves though.
The memories that they made aren’t all bad. There are a few good ones: memories like playing video games all Saturday afternoon and sledding in the winter. However, the bad memories over power the good ones: the memories of screaming voices, broken dishes, tears, and broken hearts.
Dan sniffles. He wasn’t even aware that he had started crying. He rubs his face with his blanket and tries to push the day from his mind without much success. Phil’s confession begins to play in his mind.
How could he not tell me that he thought he liked boys? Why did he hide it for so long? Why didn’t he trust me? These questions roll around Dan’s brain like waves in the ocean. Dan falls into a fitful sleep; dreaming of days gone past.
The sun was shining bright by the time that Phil awoke the next morning. He sits up in bed with a groan. His body is stiff and sore from tossing and turning all night. With a sleepy yawn and a stretch, he grabs his glasses off his side table. He slowly makes his way out of his room and shuffles down the hall.
He honestly feels more tired now than he did when he went to sleep last night. After pouring a bowl of cereal, he retreats back to his room. Phil doesn’t hear any movement coming from Dan’s room and assumes he’s still asleep.
Two hours later, Phil hears Dan open his door. He can hear him moving around the flat. He has no desire to venture outside of his room and deal with Dan.
An hour later, there’s a knock on Phil’s door. He places his laptop on his bed and slowly crosses the room. He opens to the door to find Dan on the other side. Dan’s wearing a plain, black shirt and a pair of lounge pants slung low on his hips.
“Can I help you?” Phil asks with a bit of a snarky attitude. He lightly bites his tongue after hearing his voice. Dan resists the urge to roll his eyes. He takes a deep breath, willing himself not to back down, before addressing Phil.
“Did you want to finish the photo album?” He asks. He’s not looking directly at Phil, but behind him, carding one of his hands through his hair.
Phil thinks for a moment. They’ve come so far already, they might as well. ‘What harm could come from finishing the album?’ he thinks.
“Sure,” Phil answers. Dan finally looks at him and smiles. Phil weakly smiles back. Dan steps away from the door and allows Phil to exit his room. Phil closes the door behind him and follows Dan to the lounge.
Dan makes a stop in the kitchen to grab a few bottles of water. They settle onto the couch in the same positions that they had the day before.
Phil picks up the album and places it in his lap. Dan cracks open his water bottle and takes a sip as Phil flips through the pages to find where they left off. Phil’s first day of university picture is the next picture. This is followed by a few date pictures and then Dan’s first day of university.
They didn’t start university at the same time. Dan decided to take a gap year to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He joined Phil at the same university, though a year behind him, in hopes of earning a law degree. That didn’t really work out too well for him. He ended up having a breakdown and dropping out. Phil went on to graduate. Dan has always been a bit jealous that Phil was able to finish and Dan wasn’t. Not that Phil did it on purpose, but still.
They continue flipping through until they stop of a picture of them outside of their Manchester flat. The day was a warm and sunny one while they had spent the whole of it moving their possessions inside with the help of their families.
Their arms are wrapped around each other. Phil is smiling wide at the camera. Dan is bent over, mid laugh.
They look so happy and optimistic. Both had started YouTube channels nearly two years before; both of their channels were gaining in popularity. Phil was about to start his last year of university the next week. Dan had just dropped out and was going to do YouTube full time. Their futures seemed so bright and happy. It wouldn’t last, however.
“I miss that apartment.” Dan confesses quietly, almost if he’s speaking more to himself. Phil hums in agreement. He misses it too. He misses those versions of themselves. The happy-go-lucky boys who thought they would be together forever.
“So do I.” Phil confesses. Dan flashes him a sad smile. A silent conversation passes between them. They don’t need to say anything else. Manchester was a happy place for them, until it wasn’t.
Phil flips the page. There is one single picture left in the album. When Phil sees it, his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open. Dan notices the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns his attention away from the wall he was staring at and back to Phil. He looks at him with confusion before looking down at the open photo album still in Phil’s lap.