ding dong beloved showvy!
Red!
I am Treat-ing you to a small 2009 Era Dan and Phil ficlet!
Dan stared at the ceiling. The room was dark: the only source of light the moonlight coming in through the windows. It was early in the morning, or late at night, depending on how you liked to classify the hours best used for sleeping, or letting the line between reality and dreams blur. Next to him, Phil was snoring.
That felt more unreal than anything else. Phil was close enough that Dan could feel his body heat, half-wrapped around Dan’s body. He was not a quiet sleeper. Dan didn’t really mind; Dan was not a quiet sleeper. When he managed to sleep, that was.
He couldn’t imagine sleeping now, squeezed into this tiny bed with Phil. With Phil, who, just hours earlier, had giggled into Dan’s shoulder, and listened to Dan’s silly stories as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, and giddily kissed him, more than once, and melted into every kiss Dan had initiated.
It was not Dan’s first time here, but it felt like the first, with how frayed his nerves were, and how much his stomach bubbled with a sort of impossible-feeling severe happiness, and he didn’t know what to do with any of it. He certainly didn’t know how to fall asleep.
Next to him, Phil let out another snore; and Dan looked at the ceiling, and felt scared and improbably hopeful all at once.
