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loveinthebones · 7 years

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can’t you see i’m falling apart, love (want to fall together?)

After months of work, I am so excited to publish my Phandom Reverse Bang! I have an amazing team and this project mutated into something more than I expected. It is long and not complete because finals really put a wrench in things but we are continuing to work on it until it is complete!

My artist was the amazing @kthnwss and is the real inspiration behind this. You guys should check out her pieces for this story (here). Also, check out her other phanart and original works because her shading is just so beautiful and amazing. She deserves the love!

My beta was the lovely @bie-lovers who is a literal saint for dealing with my random tense changes and scattered typing. This wouldn’t be nearly at well put together without her (and she writes too!)

And for the information you were really looking for: can’t you see i’m falling apart, love (want to fall together?)

Rating: M

Tags: Slow burn, Strangers to Lovers, Grief, Healing, Mutual Pining, Florist! Phil, and Youtuber! Dan

Relationships: Phil Lester/Orginal Male Character, Dan Howell/Original Female Character, Dan Howell/Phil Lester

These are your WARNINGS: Depression, Self Harm, Minor Character Related Assisted Suicide and Serious Illness

Summary: There are five stages of grief but no one told Phil Lester that you cycle through them until they wear you down to the point where you have to smile for an invisible camera but when a Youtuber stumbles into his one-man act... can he finally let that persona drop?

You can also read it on AO3

Part One: Denial (Word Count: 5,098)

“I promise I’m alright.” Phil sighed into the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he caressed the furry pod of the bulrush hanging in a pot. The holder swayed slightly and sore eyes followed the hypnotic movement and for a moment- a blissful moment- it was quiet in his mind.

“You don’t sound alright.” The gentle lilt of Cornelia’s voice forced him to focus and Phil dragged a hand across his eyes. “Martyn is worried about you...you had sleeping problems even before--”

“You really should come to bed.” His voice was a soothing rumble as he snaked his arms around Phil’s waist. “It’s getting late.”

Phil had hummed in a half-hearted agreement. He remembers he had wanted a moment of peace…

(Who was he kidding? He didn’t have to tell small white lies anymore. He had wanted a moment to pretend that there wasn’t change in the air, that Aiden wasn’t trembling and leaning on him heavily, or that his face wasn’t scratchy with dried tears.)

“What time is it?” He had murmured instead and when he heard the answer, he made himself giggle. “It’s still early!”

“I’m fine.” Phil reassured sharply before softening his posture, forcing his stiff shoulders to lower. “Really. Just played Mario Kart for a bit too long last night.”

Phil wondered when he had become so adept at telling lies. It used to be that whenever he tried to say any kind of untruth, it would stick to his tongue like honey. The words slimy and fighting to stay in his mouth. They still do, he supposes with a wry chuckle as he pushes his hair away from his face to kneel beside some roses.

He’s just gotten better at forcing the words through the cloying barrier.

“If you’re sure…”

“I am, Cor.” Phil presses his thumb against a thorn carefully and watches it snap under the pressure. “Really.” He picks off the flower’s lost defense and flicks it away when he notices a tuft of blonde hair peeking over the top of the table beside his van. “I’ve got to go. Give mum my love.”

As he hung up, tiny hands came to a pot and he rushed forward to steady it before the child could pull it to the floor. Twinkling grey eyes met his and Phil laughed heartily in surprise.

The sound startled him.

“You need to smile.”

Aiden’s fingers carded through his hair and Phil resisted the urge to hiss as the strands were suddenly pulled. He kept his head against Aiden’s hip, drumming his fingers absently against the other’s blanket-covered knee.

“I do.” Phil defended, pulling the corners of his lips upwards.

“You know that’s fake.” Aiden’s fingers ghosted across his lips before jabbing lightly at his teeth. “Since when have you used no tongue?”

Phil felt his cheeks warm. He buried his face with a groan at the familiar tease. “Shut up.”

(He didn’t say: Please stop talking. Don’t act like nothing has changed.

Never stop talking. I need to hear your voice.)

“Since we were about seventeen, right? That’s- what- five years?”

“Six.”

Aiden’s palm slid across the nape of his neck, stroking the hairs at the back of his skull. Phil raised his head then his torso to kiss his boyfriend with gentle kitten licks into his mouth and he knew, knew that he was in over his head.

“Darcy!” Phil managed to squeak through his suddenly tight throat and she launched herself at his legs, squealing. “What are you doing?”

Darcy ignored him in favor of making grabby hands at him and demanding, “Up, Phil. Up, up, up.”

He shook his head fondly before scooping her up to prop her on his hip- just as a flushed and panting Louise rushed down the pathway. Her eyes flicked across the park, refusing to settle on anything until they caught sight of Phil and her daughter.

“Oh--thank go--” Louise wheezed as she made her way towards him, resting a palm against the bright yellow body of his van. “I’m sorry, Phil.”

“It’s okay.” Phil reassured, bouncing Darcy absentmindedly before beaming. “You dyed your hair! It looks good!”

Louise rolled her eyes even as she took in deep gulps of air. Her fingers touched the wind blown blonde strands for a moment before she gave him a wide, tooth bearing grin.

“Thank you.” She said sincerely before putting her hands on her hips to give Darcy a stern look. “What have I said about running off?”

“I was just going to see Uncle Phil!” Darcy grumbled, twisting his dirt-streaked apron in her fingers. “He’s not a stranger.”

Louise pinched the bridge of her nose as Phil jumped in. “You still shouldn’t run off, Dar. You could have been abducted by aliens!” He crossed his eyes at her and Darcy burst into a fit of laughter.

Louise joined in before mouthing a silent “You are a lifesaver,” and Phil inclined his head in acknowledgement before he set Darcy down in the open door amongst the pots of different plants. She seemed content, rubbing the broad leaves of a ficus lovingly.

“Don’t touch Loki.” He warned as he did every time before he was engulfed in a tight hug from Louise. “Oof! Lou?”

Louise squeezed him tighter and he patted her shoulder in short, hesitant thumps before settling his chin on the top of her head. “Are you alright?” He murmured, feeling strands of her hair tickling his cheek as she stilled.

She shook her head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Another nearly imperceptible side to side motion.

“Alright.” He brought his arms to give her a reassuring squish before she stepped away from him, running her fingers under her waterline lightly. “I’m here if you need me.”

“I know…” Louise replied softly, raising her gaze to keep the tears gathering there from sliding down her cheeks. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Phil pursed his lips but said nothing, merely glancing out of his peripheral to check on Darcy as his friend steadied her breathing. The little one had crept up to Loki and he could see her lips moving as she squeezed the brown pot between her hands. She had a habit of rocking as she sat and sometimes her face would get too close to the cactus’ thorns for comfort.

Like now!

Phil spun around.

“Darcy.” Phil called out to her, keeping his voice low but firm. Darcy immediately settled on her bum and blinked wide, bewildered eyes at him. “I don’t want Loki to hurt you. He has thorns and if you swing too close, he might hurt you on accident.”

“I was just talking to him!” She defended but still scooted away from the plant with a pout in Phil’s direction. Phil raised a hand to cover the smile stretching his lips and forced a cough. “He’s eating and mummy and daddy talk to me while we eat!”

Phil was about to continue the familiar squabble when the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him had him jumping, turning once more. His cheeks were probably scarlet with how hot they felt and his heart skipped a beat as his lips parted.

It never got easier talking to strangers even with how long he had been selling his flowers and plants but he enjoyed it. He wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

(Maybe he would. For one thing. Well, person.)

“Hi! How may I help you?” Phil greeted as Louise quietly moved past him to make her way to Darcy. There stood a girl with a sweet face, framed by short hair with tight goldilocks ringlets leaning into the man at her side who shot Phil a winning smile, bright green-blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Your flowers are so lovely!” The girl complimented as she reached out to run a fingertip down the petals of a yellow rose. “I had to drag PJ along so he could get some ideas.” She turned to the man to wink at him.

Phil watched the way PJ’s eyelids lowered as he gazed at his girlfriend with a look that could only be described as fond. The man didn’t move to wrap an arm around her waist but gently bumped her with his shoulder, lips quirked in one corner.

“It’s to help Dan, Sophie. You know he can be a bit daft when it comes to surprising Ruth.” PJ shook his head before nudging her with his hip. “Besides, you wanted to come over here. It was a win-win.”

Phil watched the girl’s cheeks tinge pink.

“Do you have any geraniums?” Sophie questioned him, and Phil nodded before moving to the brown shelves beside his van.

His vision seemed to be fuzzed at the edges. His limbs were leaden as he grabbed the pot, so much so that he pressed it closer to his chest and squeezed it tighter than normal. The dull throbbing that had been drumming against his temples since he got up this morning suddenly spiked, but he ignored it to smile at Louise who raised a brow in concern.

He turned back to the people visiting his plants and placed the bright orange geraniums on the table. The girl let out a small awed breath as she studied the leaves, poking gently at the blooming flowers, and patting the soil.

“They are so bright.”

“I try very hard to take care of my plants.” Phil supplied shyly as he shuffled his feet before continuing in a confident voice. “This is a horseshoe geranium. It is a gorgeous plant but if you plan on giving it to someone...you should know that it’s means stupidity.”

Phil jumped slightly as PJ roared with laughter and Sophie reared back on her heels.

“Oh my god!” Sophie squeaked, biting her lip to contain her own giggles.

“That’s--” PJ gasped for breath and the rest of the words tumbled through his guffawing. “Actually perfect. I need to bring him here because--I bet he didn’t even--and she would--”

PJ couldn’t even complete his sentences, sides heaving and wheezing with his need for air.

Phil could hear Louise’s stifled gasps and Darcy’s high pitched squeals and he finally let himself break down, throwing his head back and an ugly hissing laugh ripping from his lips.

Aiden was rolling him on the grass of the field, and Phil tried to ignore the fact that his yelps were loud and (just a bit) unmanly.

“We are going to be late for Art!” Phil groaned, squirming away from the fingers skimming up his side, causing him to jerk. “We’ve skipped too much! I need to pass this A level!”

Aiden was breathing heavily as he let his weight fall on Phil, knocking the breath from his chest. Aiden’s eyes were brimming with warmth, hair sticking out in tufts from Phil’s resistance, and the beauty mark on the apple of his cheek was popping as he panted.

“You worry too much, Dibbit.” Aiden used the childhood nickname as a gentle jab as he laid his head on Phil’s chest. “You’ll be fine, love.”

He was warm and boneless as he stole the air from Phil’s lungs, but the blue eyed boy didn’t mind, burying his face into sweat-damp locks. Aiden pressed even closer, jabbing his hipbone painfully into Phil’s flesh and he grunted.

“You’re hea--”

“Of course. I’m going to be a stripper while you’re off at uni.”

Phil stared at him for a moment before hissing an ugly, restrained laugh, and Aiden cupped his cheeks.

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry,” Sophie apologized breathlessly as she patted her cheeks. “That took us off guard and…” She glared at PJ’s still trembling form before grabbing his elbow lightly. “It might be better if we came back. Will you be around tomorrow?”

Phil had calmed a bit and answered, “I will! Feel free to stop by.”

“We will.” PJ wheezed as Sophie turned to lead him away, giving Phil a small wave.

There was a dull pulse in his chest as he watched Sophie slap PJ’s arm as they strolled down the path. His eyes stung, and the space around his shoulders felt too light- an arm was supposed to be draped there...there was supposed to be a comforting presence behind him...deep rumbles encouraging the plants to grow.

The blossoms of the geraniums were suddenly bland and Phil fought down a whimper as he caressed a petal.

No, please. Don’t take this away too.

I can’t do this. I can’t…

This is a cruel joke. He has to be…

There were small arms around his neck and a solid presence against his side. Darcy was clinging to him tightly as Louise rubbed his back.

He wasn’t crying, but his chest was rising and falling too quickly to be a comfortable tempo, and he could feel flames licking at his throat. He raised his right arm and patted Darcy’s back tenderly but the other was crushing Louise, and he felt himself losing stability as his feet slid in the dirt.

Louise was fighting to keep him upright as he swayed, and Darcy was tugging on his hair as she peered into his eyes.

“Are you okay, Uncle Phil?”

“No. I haven’t slept since Aiden took that poison, and why did he have to? Why couldn’t he have stayed alive a bit longer for me? Am I selfish for wanting that when he would suffer?” The words crashed against his teeth and threatened to overflow.

Don’t say anything.

Darcy’s eyes widened and filled with the tears that he couldn’t shed himself at something she saw in his face. He opened his mouth (a bit too late) to respond and her soft cries had the flames searing his throat and his nose threatening to run.

Say something. Don’t let her cry.

“I’m just tired,” Phil said, because it was a truth he could tell, and Louise was shushing Darcy softly, trying to gather her against her chest even as she still held him. Darcy howled in protest at Louise’s prying fingers, and she crushed her tear-stained, snot-smeared face against his neck. “It’s okay. I’m fine,” he soothed distractedly.

Just a little sleepy, nothing to worry about. Just a one-off thing.

“He’s just sleepy, sweetheart,” Louise consoled as well, tapping her fingers across her daughter’s spine. “Why don’t I take you home to Daddy, and I’ll get Uncle Phil some coffee to help him feel better? I’ll even invite Uncle Chris.”

Do you think he’ll make me laugh? I don’t want to laugh anymore.

Darcy still didn’t let him go, but her sobs lessened slightly at the suggestion and she hiccuped, “Uncle Shane, too?”

“Uncle Shane is away at a convention. Remember Mummy was going to go to it? In California?”

Smile for them, Philip. You’re okay, you’re fine.

Phil raised an eyebrow at Louise’s statement but stroked Darcy’s curls and forced his voice to lilt playfully. “Uncle Chris will come and cause trouble. Uncle Phil might have to lock him in the coffee shop and leave him there for the aliens to abduct!”

An arm was thrown across his shoulders without warning, and Phil snapped his head up from his palm, where it had been bobbing without his permission. He relaxed at the sight of Chris’ straight fringe, crooked smile, and amused eyes.

“You scared me,” Phil grumbled as he shrugged Chris away with a sharp jerk of his shoulders, shooting a small, drained smile.

“You look like shit,” Chris drawled, dropping down into the red booth opposite of him and clasping his hands on the table. “When’s the last time you slept, mate?”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, suppressing a sigh at the light hearted inquiry before leaning his chin in his hand once more. He pursed his lips as he rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“With your mum,” Phil quipped, watching Chris light up at the jab- the smile lines etched into his face deepening as he ducked his head to snicker. Phil fluttered his lashes at his friend exaggeratedly.

“So you’ll shag my mom but not me? Where’s the love, Phil?” Chris gasped in mock hurt, clutching his chest and placing his right hand against his forehead in a ‘woe is me’ gesture.

Phil curled his fingers towards his mouth as he suppressed the evil cackle that wanted to escape. He drummed his fingers absently.

“Ew. I walked in on the wrong part of this conversation,” Louise grimaced as she distributed their drinks and situated herself beside Phil, bringing the porcelain cup to her lips to sip at her coffee. “I really hope you boys realize we are in a public place.”

Phil’s ears flushed a light rose while Chris merely snorted into his own cappuccino.

“Sorry, mum,” Chris sang.

Louise glowered at him for a split second before a surprised yell of pain erupted from Chris who doubled over in his seat. Phil gave Louise a side eye as she brought her cup up for another sip before giggling lowly.

“Fuck, Lou. You nearly broke my ankle!”

“Serves you right.” Louise declared, tossing her hair over her shoulder before placing her cup on the table as she regarded Chris with sharp eyes. “But why are you still in London? Shouldn’t you have gone to the convention with Shane?”

Chris shifted uneasily in his chair, hands coming up to cup his warm mug, his fingers fiddling with the rim. “I…” He began before leaning back to study Louise with his own intense scrutiny. “I could ask you the same thing. Why are you still here in London?”

Phil felt Louise go rigid beside him, studying how she pushed her shoulders back to sit straighter. He reached over to place his fingertips on her wrist for comfort just as Chris squeezed her palm in a single, crushing grip before drawing back.

Phil didn’t move.

“I-” That single syllable was broken in a way Phil had hoped that his friends’ never would be, and he scooted closer to Louise in an unconscious protective gesture. His heart was thumping wildly, and he fought the shivers creeping along his spine.

“He’s going to do it.”

“Do what?”

“D-”

The word cut off and Phil couldn’t see anything but the curtain of salt burning his eyes. He didn’t want to say it because it would surely suffocate him. The pain. The agony. The hopelessness.

He had heard of dying from heartbreak but could it happen when Aiden was still alive?

“Death with dignity. Aiden...he’s going to…”

“...a divorce.” Louise was whispering now, and Phil let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, removing his hand from the blonde’s wrist to draw her into a side embrace. “We tried to make it work but it became obvious that...it wasn’t…” Louise was starting to sniffle, resting heavily into his side. “I couldn’t go to the convention when…”

Chris stood and Phil scooted, pulling Louise along until the windowsill was digging into his back as he balanced on his hip. Chris perched in the small gap they had made to wrap an arm around Louise. Louise leaned her head on Chris’ shoulder, and the two boys locked unsure, distressed gazes as their friend began to cry in earnest.

“Lou, Lou- shhh- we got you,” Phil murmured comfortingly. “It’s okay. Just let it out.”

“I’m sorry- I didn’t know,” Chris apologized, lips twisting in a painful knot. “I’m sorry, you’re hurting, Louise. I’ll beat him up if you want me to?” The last word’s inflection raised in a last minute question, and Louise gave a brief watery chuckle before coughing, shoulders jerking upward.

“You are wonderful,” Phil declared as he reached over to smear Louise’s tears away with his other hand. “You are so bright, Louise. You’ll find someone who suits you for who you are now.”

“You are lovely,” Chris added softly, arm constricting around Louise’s waist. “Brilliant.”

There were still dark-tinted rivers running from Louise’s eyes, and her cheeks were still blotchy with red patches, but her heaving chest had calmed and she was giving a watery, unstable smile.

She removed her head from Chris shoulder slowly, and he dropped his grip on her to wiggle his arm until it was freed from behind her back.

“I’m sorry,” Louise rasped before swiping her hands across her cheeks. “Oh, my mascara--”

“You look fine.” Phil reassured as Chris’ teeth snagged on a dry piece of his skin on his lip before he blurted out:

“I didn’t go to the convention because I’m quitting YouTube.”

Phil’s mouth opened into a small ‘O’ of shock while Louise’s hands froze in their fussing over her ruined mascara to lower so she could lean towards Chris, giving him her full attention. He watched as the brown haired boy’s hand twitched before he left the bench.

Louise immediately shifted to give Phil more room, but he was preoccupied by Chris’ bowed head and shuffling fingers.

The quiet drone of idle chatter, soft thunks of glasses on wood, and clanking spoons circled them as Chris continued to fidget. Louise rubbed the remnants of makeup from her cheeks while frowning at Chris’ refusal to speak, and Phil finally withdrew his arm from her shoulders and settled himself more comfortably on their seat.

He let out a sigh as his hip throbbed before lifting his discarded spoon to drag it through the flattened goop that used to be whipped cream.

“Right.” Phil began, swinging his dripping spoon towards Chris. Tiny flecks of white rained down on the table and coffee splattered the surface carelessly as he continued. “I thought you enjoyed making videos?”

“If this has to do with hate comments, I will personally go and find them to tell them off myself,” Louise avowed irritably, fingers coming to fluff her hair.

“It’s not the hate comments, you know that I’m not too bothered by those.” Chris lifted his chin so he could peek from beneath his fringe before scrubbing his fingers through it, leaning back with the half-smirk Phil knew meant that he was trying to mask his unrest. “I just...I can’t take the pressure, you know? Worrying about views. You realize that I haven’t done a proper comedy act?” Chris was full on rambling now, fingers drumming faster and faster on the surface of their table. “I mean- I just sit behind a camera and…”

“Hey. Hey,” Phil interrupted before Chris could properly work himself up. “I watch your videos. You are funny.”

“But I haven’t really done anything!” Chris sagged where he sat, seemingly to curl in on himself.

“You have,” Louise countered, sliding her drink closer to Phil so she could rest her hand on Chris’, stilling his endless movements. “It’s your job. It’s normal to get tired of your job. If you need a break, take one but give yourself time to rest. Don’t just quit.”

“You can see if you can perform in clubs until then,” Phil suggested, tapping the spoon he had been twirling absentmindedly against his mouth. “You’ll feel like you're making progress while stepping away for a bit. YouTube is flexible so it should be okay, right?” He wanted to make sure that Chris would be content in the time that he wasn’t actively producing videos. He had dabbled in editing and video production in Uni so he had an inkling of how much work Chris put into the skits he shared.

“It should be…” Chris trailed off, leaning back into his usual reclining position.

“You have us to help.” Louise pointed her pinkie finger as she went to take a gulp of her coffee, wagging it scoldingly at the other. “I won’t let you starve. At least,” She hummed contentedly at the vanilla coating her tongue before sticking it out, “Not without a reason.”

That worked.

Chris chuckled and Phil snorted, dipping his spoon into his own beverage and tossing a clump of congealed cream at Chris’ arm.

“I’ll feed you whipped cream.” Phil didn’t miss a beat and blinked as both his companions dissolved into giggles. “What?”

“Don’t say that!” Louise managed as Chris blurted at the same time: “Is that a promise?”

Phil merely dipped his chin bashfully, and let his fringe flop into his eyes. Chris regarded him with tremors of mirth before dropping forward with his elbows on the table with a flourish. Phil watched his nearly untouched coffee slosh over the rim and heard Louise grumble, “Chris!” before zeroing in on Chris’ expectant expression.

“What?”

Have I got something on my face?

“Oh, come on!” Chris groaned at him, lips spreading even wider across his cheeks. “What’s new with you? We have a divorce--” He lowered his boisterous tone to a gentle murmur as he bowed his head towards Louise before it returned with the previous grandeur. “A career crisis!” He motioned to himself as he wiggled his eyebrows before pointing at Phil. “Come on! You have to be the lucky one, Phil!”

Phil fought to keep his breathing normal as he reached for his cup, ignoring the stickiness covering it and smearing on his skin. His eyebrows raised (and he pleaded for the tell-tale crease to not form between his brows) as he took a calculated drink.

“I’m lucky, Dibbit.”

“Why?”

“Because I had you.” Aiden leaned back and took a deep breath, the plastic tubing in his nose shifting as he watched Phil’s thumb rub circles on the back of his hand.

“You still hav--”

“And I get to say good bye. Sometimes, people don’t but I do. Though your face kills me.” Aiden wasn’t looking at him as he talked. Phil tracked his pupils as they roamed the ceiling, watching as his nose started to redden slightly, how his cheeks bloomed with the same color.

It was when Aiden slouched towards him without a thought and brought their foreheads together… their exhales mingling between them (and oh, if he could give Aiden life from his own inhales, he would) that the words tumbled from him.

“You are going to kill me.”

“No. You’re already doing that yourself.”

“I guess I’m the lucky one?” Phil broke in before Louise could splutter inarticulate, unhappy noises at Chris. “I mean...I’ve just been working tons since Aiden…” His throat seized around the two syllables that represented the person who had become an integral part in his definition of ‘love’ and ‘eternity’ and he fought to finish the sentence, but instead it trailed into his faux relaxed breathing.

Don’t worry them.

“You’re already doing that yourself.” Aiden’s words drifted through his consciousness unbidden, and Phil wanted to thrash his head so he didn’t hear them, but he didn’t.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

“I just haven’t been doing much.” Phil shrugged one shoulder.

“You need to get out, Phil. It’s been three years--”

“Christopher!” The name was shrill and filled with unbridled disbelief. There was a sharp note of horror, but Phil thought that there might even be a twinge of relief lurking beneath the surface.

They shouldn’t be worried.

Every nerve in his body was screeching to flee and anguish was fueling the fire in his chest but he held out a placating hand to Louise.

“Yes, it has.” He could only manage a whisper, but Phil was content with that fact. He was still afraid that his voice would leave him completely, that the ashes of his heart would leave him mute. “But you said you wanted me to be lucky and I am. He loved me more than anything and I loved him.”

Chris had an unreadable gleam in his gaze, lips distorted and gathered in one corner of his mouth.

Phil tapped Louise on her shoulder and she hesitated- fingers clutching the edge of the table- before she stood with a resigned sigh to let him pass.

Phil didn’t break eye contact with Chris as he exited the bench and rose to his full height. “Nothing will change that.” His lips trembled as he smiled, closed-lipped, but he shrugged his shoulders mechanically. “You guys were right, I am tired. I think I’ll call it an early day.”

His hands were still gripping the steering wheel as his indicators cast shadows across his face.

He should have waited until he got home, curled in a cocoon of warmth and the illusion of protection before he broke down.

He had done it many times before and maybe, it would have saved him.

He supposed he should be thankful that he made it out of the coffee shop parking lot before rummaging through the glove box for tissues.

He didn’t usually go in the stupid compartment because why would he?

He kept the important documents and items he needed in the center console for ease of access. It was better to be prepared, Phil figured and while that didn’t always work out for him- he had made it a point to try.

Unlike Aiden.

That particular space had been Aiden’s- papers messily shoved in haphazardly, edges bent and crinkled with no rhyme or reason- it was a danger zone, and Phil still hadn’t brought himself to organize the chaos.

(He had done the apartment. Would it be so bad to keep this small thing?)

There hadn’t been a tissue stuffed into his area, and he had been desperate. He needed one to catch the snot and salt water running down his face after the coffee shop. He just wanted to wipe away the evidence so he could walk into the apartment (-not theirs. Phil refused to think of it as his.) with the illusion that it was only exhaustion that came from being an introvert and engaging with others all day that was making him drag his feet and his eyes throb.

He had just wanted a fucking tissue.

Snot still trailed down his lips but he didn’t care. There were still tears soaking his face but he didn’t care. He couldn’t take a proper breath and lost track of how long he had been hunched over and he didn’t give one damn.

The small velvet box had tipped over on his lap at some point during his crying, lid still gaping open. The ring had slid out of its nesting place slightly but was still safe in its cage.

“I’m fine.” Phil was repeating the mantra that had been in his head for the last couple of years like a prayer.

He was okay.

“I’m fine.”

He was fine.

“I’m fine.”

He really, really was.

Previous Part: N/A / Next Part: Anger, first act

#Phandom Reverse Bang 2017 #PRB2017 #Phan #Phanfiction #Florist! Phil #YouTuber! Dan #Kat's writing #Ambrose's writing

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loveinthebones · 7 years

Text

can’t you see i’m falling apart, love (want to fall together?)

Word Count: ~15, 082 (Make yourself a drink and get settled, it’s a long one.)

Chapter Summary: His friends are worried (and they shouldn't be, he thinks) but Phil is starting to crack slowly but surely. He's also growing fond of Dan.

Warning for this chapter: Nightmares and mentions of blood and broken bones (in those dreams). Just in case you need them!

Read on AO3

Check out the art and the artist for this!

Also our lovely beta.

Part Four: Bargaining (Phil)

He was sitting in his old biology class, facing the whiteboard, as his sneakered feet squeaked along the tiles. Phil sighed, adjusting his glasses nervously. He could feel his stomach churning around the breakfast his mum had prepared, and he hoped that he wasn’t going to be sick on the first day of Year 10.

It couldn’t be as bad as the start of Year 7 when he had walked into his class with bright neon orange hair.

Never again.

Phil vowed silently to himself.

“Hey!” An excited but perturbed boy suddenly slammed his hand into the black topped table and Phil reared back, quickly forcing his weight back to the front of his body to keep himself from tipping the stool back and throwing himself off.

His alarmed gaze met fierce pine-coloured eyes warily and Phil squeaked, “Yes?”

“This is my seat!” The boy groused at him, tossing his head back like a wild horse to dislodge the block of hair that seemed determined to irritate his eye. “I had my bag here but I’m sure that prat, John, took it!” He snapped his head left then right before muttering, “He’s in for a row when I get him, stupid…”

The rest had lowered to an inaudible but irritated drone and Phil couldn’t help but regard him with an entertained but unsure quirk of his lips.

“I...uh…” Phil began, tugging on the weird reddish mousey brown his hair had morphed to after his terrible dye job. “I like this seat.” He told the other quietly, eyes lowering shyly, as his cheeks flooded with heat. “I was hoping…”

“What’s your name?” The boy piped in, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Phil let a wide, genuine smile spread across his face at the rough but interested query before he responded, “I’m Philip. I like Phil better, though.”

“Aiden,” The boy supplied before he let both his hands lift from where they had been resting on the table and brought them to his chest, “Since we both like this seat- why don’t we play fair?”

“What?” Phil’s voice went to a higher octave with his confusion, cracking in the middle of the exclamation embarrassingly.

“Rock-Paper-Scissors!” Aiden puffed an exasperated sigh at him but his stance thawed slightly at Phil’s unthreatening and even-tempered countenance. “You want this seat. I want this seat. Winner takes all.”

“So…” Phil clarified, “All or nothing?”

“All or nothing!” Aiden screeched in hyped agreement, starting to bounce on the tips of his shoes. “This will be my seat!”

Phil’s tongue was wedged between his teeth seconds later as Aiden spluttered indignantly, invading his space without a thought, “Alien does not count! You’re such a cheater, Phil!”

Phil ached to reach out a hand to ruffle this Aiden’s hair with playful but slightly irked fingers… He couldn’t help it, Phil knew, because the Aiden in Year 10 was untamed with never ending energy and hadn’t discovered an outlet yet.

He was dreaming, he knew that he was dreaming, but that didn’t make the want in his chest lessen.

He didn’t fight the weightless, floating sensation encasing his body as he was tossed from one scene to another.

Aiden looked absolutely terrified, pushing back the vibrant lime green piece of fringe he had decided to dye.

(“No, please, no, no, no.” Phil tried to wail, beg, plead but he couldn’t stop his body from reclining as he did then because it might be a dream but it was also a memory.

He didn’t have any control here- and no matter how much it tore apart the glittering, reflective shards of his heart...he wouldn’t trade this particular remembrance for the world.)

“However you’re imagining I’ll react,” Phil lifted the bottle of apple cider to point its long neck at Aiden to emphasize his words. “It won’t be that bad, Den-Den.”

“No,” Aiden groaned in his direction before snatching the bottle so he could take a swig. “I vetoed that name when I turned fifteen. I forbid it.”

Phil giggled, leaning his head on Aiden’s shoulder, before letting his eyes wander around the rugby pitch. He admired the healthy green of the grass for a moment then he angled his head to take in Aiden’s pinched brows and trembling lips.

“Seriously, Adey,” Phil hummed, body sinking further into Aiden. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” Aiden confirmed immediately, sloshing the cider in his grasp, as he closed his eyes. Phil waited quietly, letting him take a few steeling breaths, before a flurry of determined but shaky syllables strung together into a single hesitant coherent sentence, “I’m gay.”

“Okay,” Phil replied without any judgement but with mild surprise, “Did you think that would chase me away?” He raised his head from its comfortable resting place with the corners of his mouth pulled down by gravity to focus on his friend.

“No,” Aiden snickered, smacking his thigh with the bottle. Phil’s brow unwrinkled with Aiden’s confident answer. He accepted the drink, wrapping his lips around the opening, and tilted his head back. “I know there are plenty of guys and girls who would have told me that... had I asked.”

Phil spat out the alcohol unceremoniously, grimacing at the dribble sliding down his chin and the stickiness on his outstretched legs.

“Aiden!”

“It’s not my fault you’ve left a trail of broken hearts in your wake!”

Aiden looked completely unrepentant, falling on his back to roll on the ground as he clutched his stomach. Phil growled and pounced on the other, digging his fingers with force into the vulnerable spaces between Aiden’s ribs. He howled and suddenly, they were wrestling- tossing each other off when they could, hands tugging harshly at clothes to try and gain an advantage, and-

Phil was (unsurprisingly) pinned but Aiden was huffing and puffing enough to make him snark,

“Am I too much for you?”

Aiden’s grip on his wrists tightened briefly before he released his hold. Phil blinked as the weight pressing down on him pleasantly disappeared. Aiden laid on his back beside him, trying to regain his breath.

“Sometimes,” Aiden murmured, lifting his hand to the night sky. “Sometimes, you are, but that’s because I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, Dibbit.”

Phil quickly sat up so he could collapse onto Aiden, smashing their lips together. The slight sweetness of the cider mixed pleasantly with the natural spiciness of Aiden’s tongue as they kissed and Phil cuddled closer as Aiden slung an arm across his back securely.

“I love you, too.”

Phil got thrown to reality for a moment, fingers slipping clumsily across the sheets for his phone that was going off with the chirpy tone he had set for his text messages. His groggy, sleep-addled mind barely registered the name, “Ellie” before he dropped it, drowning under the crashing waves of slumber despite his efforts to fight against it.

“I can’t do this.” Phil’s shoulders were hiked up as he snarled at the woman regarding him with understanding swimming in irises that mirrored Aiden’s. “I can’t, and I won’t, Ellie.”

“He’s made his decision, Phil,” Eleanor pointed out, slowing her speech as if talking to a frightened child, and her tired, red-rimmed eyes caught his own puffy, sore gaze. “You knew this.” She ran her fingers through his mucked up fringe, combing the strands straight back. “He chose a doctor in Luxembourg for a reason. You knew this, honey.”

“I know,” Phil’s eyes were watering, and he didn’t fight the constant trickle of water starting to stream down his cheeks. “I-I-”

“He wants to say his good-byes. He’s asking-” Ellie interrupted herself with a weak shake of her head before continuing, “He’s demanding to see you. The doctor is worried that he’ll pull out his breathing tube with his thrashing.” Her hands were leaden as they fell to his shoulders. “This is it.”

“It-he-” Phil started and stopped uselessly. “I-Just-”

“He’s ready.” Phil watched as Ellie’s cheeks started to glisten under the harsh fluorescent lights. “He loves you, Phil, and he’s scared. The last thing he told me he wants to see,” She turned away from his face as she stifled a sob, “is you.”

Phil shot upright with a strangled cry, fingers tangling in his sheets as he clutched them to his chest as a flimsy makeshift shield. His whole body was drenched with sweat- pajama bottoms coiled around his legs suffocatingly, sleeping shirt plastered to his chest- and Phil kicked his legs to get some air as violent sobs tore through him.

He forced the fabric in his hand against his mouth to muffle the sounds threatening to splinter his sternum apart, collapsing on his right side. He curved his legs close to his body.

The utter hopelessness that usually slept nestled somewhere buried in his heart wrenched even more high wails from his throat, and Phil could almost feel the throbbing tenderness that would overtake his throat later but he continued to cry. His mind was bubbling with the emotions he had become so adept at hiding and they were churning, twisting, mixing into a painful mess of cosmic dust that caused his eyes to sting and overflow without his permission.

Phil remembered hearing, somewhere, that there was always something beautiful that came in moments of suffering.

As he let the pain consume him, Phil couldn’t help but think that whoever said that was a damned liar because he cried and hurt and there was nothing poetic about the way his voice gave out along the way or the way his eyes were pulsing agonizingly from the salt of his soul or the grossness of tasting the runny mucus clinging to his lips but there wasn’t anything he could do to stop the sudden outpouring of everything that had been festering and growing since he had held Aiden’s hand as he had drifted away.

So he whimpered and shrieked and bawled until he sank into a (thankfully) blank and dreamless sleep.

Phil woke up with a throat begging for water, eyes raw as if sandpaper had been rubbed over them, and a painfully full bladder. He moaned as he unravelled himself from his compact position before standing and teetering on stiff legs slowly, trying to work out the cramps by pressing his heels firmly into the floor as he made his way into the bathroom to try and make himself feel at least a little bit more human.

After a steaming hot shower and armed with a strong cup of coffee in his favorite mug, Phil sat on his bed with his laptop resting beside him and his phone in his hand.

You have to look at your messages. It’s probably not that bad.

It could be worse.

You feel like shit- it’s probably not that bad.

Phil sighed before tapping on the little speech bubble icon stamped with a small circle containing the number “6”.

Ellie

It was good to see you, honey. Just remember what I said.

December 3 4:30am

Phil couldn’t help but give an affectionate scoff at the ridiculously early message. Ellie had always been one to go to bed when there was still light out and wake up before the sun.

Aiden had definitely not taken after his mother.

Phil bit his lip as he closed the thread with a decisive stab of his thumb.

He could respond to her later because they had caught lunch together at a cozy cafe while he was in Luxembourg. Phil couldn’t help his lips from lifting in a relieved smile as he remembered how her eyes had regained some of their spark, the new caramel highlights streaking through the dark strands of her hair, and how the dark bags that had perpetually clung to the skin under her lower lids had lightened until they were barely noticeable.

She had looked good- if not happy, then… in the process of healing.

“I’m just asking you to think about it.”

Phil clicked on the next glowing thread.

Chris

I am not responsible if Lou goes tearing through London. Just saying.

December 3 11:20am

Oh, god.

Phil groaned, sliding his glasses up as the flat of his hands rested against his aching eyes. That had been sent a little over five hours ago and if Chris was giving him a warning in his own dismissive, jokey way then Lou wasn’t just simmering with irritation… she was livid and ready to act.

I’m too tired for this.

He removed his right hand to skim under the tan rubber band encircling his left wrist, lifting it and settling his finger against his pulse point for a bit, before he clicked the phone to dial Chris’ number as a thought struck him:

I hope Darcy is okay.

“Phil!” Chris greeted him cheerfully and Phil couldn’t help but chuckle at his friend’s infectious buoyant attitude. “Nice to know you still love me!”

“Just a little,” Phil teased and he took a sip of his coffee to try and ease some of the hoarseness of his voice, settling it safely on the white nightstand after so he could lean back into his blue and green pillow. “What’s wrong with Lou? Is Darcy alright?”

“Darc is peachy,” Chris chattered carelessly. Phil could hear some clanking in the background from what sounded like pots and pans. “It’s Dan you have to worry about.”

Just the sound of Dan’s name unfurled a pleasant warmth in the pit of his stomach and a restless spasm made his fingers close briefly. He had missed the witty boy while he was away. Texting could only do so much.

Phil lifted his mobile from his temple to switch ears as he flipped to rest on his front to interrogate Chris calmly, “What did Dan do? I told Lou not to be too hard on him. He doesn’t know about how Adey-” Phil cleared his throat, pulling the rubber band back until it snapped back with a sting, before carrying on, “What Aiden chose. It’s a very hot topic and most people are not for it here-”

“Relax, Phil,” Chris urged him in a gently calming murmur before he uttered: “You know we have your back. We won’t tell anyone anything if you aren’t ready. But,” Chris’ went on with a humored lilt. “That’s not the problem.”

“What’s happened, then?”

“Haven’t you been on Twitter?” Phil could just picture his friend’s slight pout as he tossed the question at him with a slight whine. “Get with the times, mate!”

“So says you,” Phil jested right back, eying the drink that was just a bit out of his reach now. He contemplated whether he wanted to sit up to get it but Phil gave a mental shrug as he merely propped up on his elbow and stretched for it. “Before Dan tagged me in that post, your Twitter was a dead zone!”

“I’m taking a break, remember?” Chris reminded him with a coquettish lisp, and Phil paused in his cautious pawing to locate his mug’s handle to snicker. “I have a reason!”

“Right,” Phil deadpanned.

“That’s not the point! The point is you and Dan are one of-if not the- top trending tags!”

Phil brought his hand down suddenly at the unexpected news, hissing as his skin cells sizzled underneath the coffee that flooded his hand.

“Shit!” He cursed as he snatched his hand back to cradle against his chest, scooting forward so he wouldn’t disturb his computer, so he could put his feet down…

“Are you okay?” Chris sounded only somewhat concerned. “Did you walk into your table again?”

“No-” Phil started but yelped as hot liquid seeped through his sock and ignited a sharp pain in his foot. “Fuck!” He tumbled back on his bed, ripping the sock with little printed fox heads off his foot, crushing the phone under his cheek and depressing some numbers with his chin.

Chris was howling with laughter, and Phil let out the best guttural growl he could give in response as he rubbed the tender flesh on the underside of his foot.

Today is just not my day.

He sat for a moment, listening to Chris trying to pull himself together. His friend blew out a couple of loud exhales before inhaling and...promptly dissolving into more unstoppable giggles.

Chris, you’re such an asshole.

Phil leaned into the receiver with a tilt of his head, eyes radiating with a sweet but strained glow, as he took in the sounds of Chris’ momentary happiness.

“You look good.” He tells Ellie sincerely because she does. “Sorry that I haven’t been by since last Christmas…” Phil trailed off, bending his knees to bring himself closer to Ellie’s height, before he started to ramble. “Maybe I’ll come up for Thanksgiving…”

“Thank you, love.” Ellie pressed a kiss to his forehead as she stepped back from the hug they had been sharing. “I’ve been feeling good. Must be the autumn vibes and bright colors.” She tapped him on his cheek dotingly before clicking her tongue at him disapprovingly, “Nonsense. You’ve kept in touch plenty. Besides,” Her lips stretched into a small, contented smile. “You’re here now.”

“Yeah…” Phil agreed guilty, pulling out the dark metal chair for her. “I’m sorry I took so long to come by…”

“Thank you.” Ellie squeezed his shoulder consolingly before she sat down, fluffing out the loose sea green skirt over her lap. “I can’t take you away from Cath for Thanksgiving. She misses you and your brother more than you think.”

Phil merely smiled as he took his own seat across from Ellie. He really had missed her.

“How about New Year’s?” Ellie suggested, “If you are adamant about wanting to stop by and catch up, Sammie will be done with her A-levels by then.” Ellie grinned at him, obviously proud of her daughter and her tentative plans for the future. “I bet she would love to see her adopted older brother before she starts Uni.”

“That’s an idea!” Phil enthused, trying to keep his excited bouncing discreet as he fought to stay seated.

“Now that that’s settled…” Ellie’s eyes narrowed as she focused on him, laying her hands neatly over each other and the menu resting on the table. “How are you doing?”

Phil stilled, licking his lips, before forcing another smile- making sure to move his tongue to rest between his teeth.

“I’m…okay.”

“I don’t know what I am going to do yet,” Phil uttered finally, rising to his feet out of the reach of the brown puddle. “But I am going to have my revenge. This coffee is going to take forever to get out of the carpet!��

Everyone but you seems to be on stable ground.

“You spilled coffee on yourself?” Chris wheezed and his voice lowered, worry bleeding through. “Are you okay? Really?”

Just smile. You’re fine.

“Yeah.” The word caught against the walls of his throat but he managed to force it out. Phil padded to the kitchen to snatch the bright green dish towel from its resting place on his oven’s handle, popping the band against his skin in three quick successions. “I was just taken off guard.” He disclosed sheepishly before going back to the news that had caused the minor disaster in his bedroom. “What was this about me and Dan being a top tag?”

Chris went quiet. All Phil could hear was the hushed sizzling of whatever was being prepared on the other end of the line.

“Chris?”

“Remember that vlog you were in?”

“Yeah?” Phil recalled distractedly as he bent to start mopping up the coffee from the carpet. He would have to make sure to clean it with some soap and water later so the stain wouldn’t be as prominent. “What about it?”

“Did you watch it?” Chris demanded impatiently. Phil had moved on to trying to soak up the sticky trails that had slipped down his table and he paused.

He hadn’t watched it, in truth. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to but with the increase in various individuals stopping by his flower truck after its release and the (usually) shy and unsure requests for selfies...he had been busier than usual for the remainder of October and then, he had made a hasty decision to go down to Luxembourg to check on Ellie.

They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year and Phil had felt the need to correct that- immediately- following Alex’s unexpected and abrupt journey to London.

“I haven’t had a chance,” Phil revealed, picking up the now leaking towel with a crinkled nose. “Should I?”

“You can try,” Chris commented dryly and Phil’s eyebrows shot up. He stared at the mess in his grasp before depositing it on the nightstand without a second thought, rubbing his gummy hands on his jeans. “Though you would have to add ‘deleted’ to your search.”

“He deleted it?” Phil plopped down on his messy sheets to sprawl on his back, pinching his glasses between his fingers so he could squeeze his nasal bone tightly. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t think it's deleted,” Chris mused. Phil felt a sudden sleepiness tug at him and he sank into the mattress with a little tuneless hum to signal he was still listening. “Just private, and not available to the public. He could have done it at a better time, though.” Chris finished in piqued mutter, sharp raps echoing over the line.

So, Lou isn’t the only one with ruffled feathers.

“What do you mean?” Phil coaxed, blinking slowly at the blurriness of his ceiling.

“His fans, they, uh-” Chris faltered for a moment before letting out a forced cough. “They ship you guys.” He then gave an indulgent but vexed giggle. “They want you guys to fuck so bad. Not that I blame them… you both are hot and-”

“Chris,” Phil groaned, breaking into the mindless stream of consciousness babbling Chris tended to fall into. “One, that is too much information. Keep your fantasies to yourself.” The easygoing taunt had Chris snorting in mock derision and Phil stuck out his tongue even though the other couldn’t see the action. “Two, they ship us?”

“Like-whoa,” Chris drawled, stretching out the consonants and vowels slowly and pointedly. “You don’t even know, Phil.”

Phil stared unseeingly at the blur that was the roof of his room. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being shipped with Dan. He couldn’t deny that Dan was...unfairly, breathtakingly gorgeous with his downy hair and the way his lips would push together when he was trying not to laugh, eyes bright with a kittenish quality that never failed to have him smiling, even if he didn’t want to.

Like this moment.

Phil brought his fingertips to skim over his mouth before closing it deliberately, ignoring the pleasant buzz of comfort spreading through his chest and out to the tips of his limbs.

“I thought you would have known,” Chris’ words broke through the not-quite-there thoughts swimming in his mind. “-with all the replies that mention you.”

“I have my notifications off since I was visiting with Ellie and-” Phil cut himself off as his eyes widened as a possibility he hadn’t considered clicked into awareness. “Wait- Mentioning me? Like, by name?”

“Well, yeah,” Chris sounded unsure and Phil heard the agitated raps of something sturdy once more. “And Sunshine’s handle, of course.”

This could affect my business. It has been positive so far but what if people aren’t getting through with relevant questions?

“How many mentions are we talking?” Phil mumbled, more to himself than Chris, as he situated his glasses where they needed to be. He forced himself up, crossing his legs to make a perch for his computer, and opened the lid.

“Um…” Chris hedged. Phil’s fingers clacked as he typed his password carelessly. “Well…”

“Chris,” Phil pleaded with a sharp note on the last consonant, moving his cursor to his browser. “Just tell me! Are we talking about a hundred? Two hundred?”

“That’s the low part of the range.” Chris coughed. Phil’s heart dropped into his stomach as his Twitter feed loaded, gaping at the unassuming “886” surrounded by blue sat on his monitor. He froze, listening to Chris breathe steadily, before he gave himself a little shake.

“Eight hundred…” Phil began, tapping on his mouse pad to open the Tweet at the top of the long list.

“It could be worse!” Chris quipped unhelpfully and Phil knew he was trying to be supportive but didn’t quite know a better way to express the sentiment.

“...and eighty six notifications.” He finished and Chris let out a low whistle. “Hold on. I’m reading one of the most recent ones…”

“Phil, that may not be a good idea…” Chris warned but Phil’s pupils were already darting over the black lettering.

@NotYourAverageFan tweeted: @danisnotonfire @pocketPHILofsunshine Can we talk about the major heart eyes Dan has?? He looks so v soft & Phil is absolutely adorbs. #Phan

Phil gave a small noise of surprise at the compliment and felt his cheeks flushing at idea that Dan would be staring at him with eyes brimming with barely concealed devotion. A brief flash of those eyes shimmering above him with smouldering embers assaulted him and Phil bit the inside of his cheek harshly until the taste of copper surged across his taste buds and pain pinged along his nerves, wiping the image away.

“It’s not that bad, Chris.” Phil tried to put his friend’s mind at ease, reaching up to press the tip of his thumb between his teeth as he continued to read.

@LemmeRainOnYourParade replied: Why has this become a thing? We all know that Dan isn’t gay! Get over yourself. #Ruthiel

Phil grimaced at the reply before he sighed, “I spoke too soon.”

“There’s always going to be assholes hiding behind their keyboard,” Chris spat and a loud crash reverberated over the line. “Do you want me to jump in?”

“That isn’t necessary.” Phil smiled at Chris’ unhesitant offer. “It isn’t an insult to me… just people being heteronormative.”

“You know what I say to that?” Chris jeered before a series of lewd slurping and gagging sounds infiltrated Phil’s ear drum.

Phil screeched, “Chris! I’m trying to read!” before the airy bubbles in his chest escaped him in hysterical giggles.

@TeenageDerpBag replied: @LemmeRainOnYourParade Fuck off. Let them ship what they want if it isnt hurting u why do u care?? And FYI not gay doesnt mean hes straight

Phil settled into a thoughtful silence, licking his lips. It was true that not being gay didn’t necessarily mean that a person was straight.

Phil had never felt the pressure to adopt a label but the term “bisexual” stuck after he had used it when he had been too tired or wound up to explain the reasoning about why he refused to classify his fluid sexuality, and after a while… it felt like it fit. It reminded Phil of the multiple never-been used controllers he has bought over the years and how each one refused to yield to his fingers, sticking stubbornly, until it followed his lead without any resistance as time went on.

He remembers that Aiden had been the one to encourage him to use it.

“It could be your label by default.” Aiden snuffled sleepily into his hair, fingertips resting just under the waistband of Phil’s pajamas as he spooned the other. “It’s just something to say to people who are being nosy pricks.”

“I know, but I don’t want a label just because people expect it of me.” Phil paused, enjoying the way Aiden’s body surrounded him, before twisting around until he was eye to eye with his boyfriend. “I should be the big spoon! I’m taller!”

“You don’t have to use it, love. It’s up to you- it was just a suggestion.” Aiden chuckled, pushing his lips against Phil’s nose before swiping a slobbery tongue against it impishly. Phil shrieked but didn’t roll away, ramming his nose into Aiden’s clothed shoulder to smear his saliva away. “Not tonight, Dibbit. I want to hold you- shhh! Are you trying to wake up my mum? She’ll kill us. It’s almost four in the morning and I have to get up for practice in two hours…”

“I don’t mind them being curious,” Phil hoisted his computer up to stretch out his legs, discarding it beside him. “Or having the ships-” Phil demurred, frowning slightly.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chris broke in with a troubled edge to his words. “Shipping real people can put a strain on relationships. Fans can get crazy-”

“It can, but they don’t mean any harm,” Phil went on, words sympathetic but dripping with compassion for the people that had been brave enough to tweet at the people they admired, as he tapped his fingers in thought. “I just don’t want them on Sunshine’s account. Maybe I could give out my Twitter? I hardly use it and it would keep everything separated-”

“Nope, nu uh. That is a horrible idea, Phil.”

“Why?”

“I’m sure Lou will back me up on this,” Chris noted faintly, trying to dodge the inquiry with his trademark lack of subtlety and delicacy.

“Why?” Phil repeated, not letting Chris distract him.

Why are you not answering me? You usually barrel right in with what you think… what’s different this time?

“Because you are not ready for the invasiveness that comes with engaging with fans,” Chris retorted bluntly. Phil’s lips parted to argue but Chris steamrolled on: “They will ask about everything, Phil. Even Aiden.” Phil flinched, trying to instinctively get away from an enemy that wasn’t physically there.

I take it back. I don’t care. I don’t want to know.

“You can barely talk about him with me and Lou and we’re friends-” It seemed as if a dam had been broken because Chris’ words picked up fervor at Phil’s stunned silence. “-which is fine. Completely fine. It takes time to heal but you aren’t helping yourself-”

He doesn’t realize that he’s yanked on the rubber band until his mind slows, centering on the piercing sensation on the side of his wrist. The brief clarity allows Phil to draw in a shuddering breath.

“Chris-” Phil croaked, imploringly.

Stop.

“No! You need to hear this!” Chris barked with a frenzied edge and Phil squashed his eyelids as close together as he could, fighting the tears starting to boil under their surface. “You aren’t in a good place and I can hear the rubber band, Phil. Just because I- or anyone else for that matter- don’t say anything doesn’t mean we aren’t aware!” Chris was almost yelling now, sniffling. “I know you don’t like to worry people but it’s a little late. We are worried. We are worried because we love you.”

“I think you need to look into therapy. Or a support group at the very least, Phil.”

“I’m fine, Ellie.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Phil sat on his bed numbly, tears zig zagging down his cheeks as he listened to Chris’ laboured breathing and the wet sound of him clearing his throat.

“I-” Phil articulated in an aborted breath before the words came spilling out of him, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Phil, but you aren’t coping. At all,” Chris commented with an exhaustion that Phil felt in his own bones.

He was tired. So, so incredibly, unbelievably tired.

“We won’t force you to do anything, but we can’t help you- if you don’t seek out support. It doesn’t have to be me,” Chris clarified at Phil’s violent but feeble inhale. “Or Lou. It could be Martyn. Or your mum.” Phil let out an audible cry, shoving his wrist against his mouth to muffle it. “It could be anyone.”

“Okay,” Phil sobbed, at a loss for words. “Okay.”

“I really care about you, man. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t.”

“I know.”

Louise called him within the hour.

He should have expected it but Phil just didn’t have the energy to put up a front so when he answered, he could only manage a weak mumble.

“ ‘Ello?”

Louise didn’t speak for a moment before she exhaled as if there was an unspeakable weight on her shoulders. “He could have gone about it a better way...”

“He’s always been truthful to a fault…” Phil addressed the train of thought that was balancing on Louise’s tongue, ducking his head lower so his nose was warmed by his duvet. “It’s not a bad thing. Just…” The mane of his stuffed lion tickled his skin as he slid lower under the comforting pressure. “It can be painful.”

“I know, but I think you needed to hear what he had to say,” Louise insisted gently. “Phil, we love you, sweetie, and we are worried. Especially,” Louise broke off and Phil could hear the nervous swallow she took. “If you’ve started with the rubber band snapping, again. Have you-”

“No, I haven’t,” Phil interrupted pointedly with a burst of energy before he deflated, the volume of his speech dampening as he buried himself deeper into the scrap of sanctuary he had claimed. “I can promise you that.”

“That’s goo-”

“Lou, I’m really sorry. I just...I’m not up for this right now,” Phil rasped, eyelashes fluttering against his skin as he closed his eyes. “I’m exhausted...Can we talk later?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Louise gave in without a fuss but sadness permeated the atmosphere travelling across the distance between their apartments. “Get some rest.” There was a pregnant pause and Phil could hear Darcy’s muffled singing, though he couldn’t make out the exact lyrics she had chosen. “I hope you aren’t angry with him. He’s just looking out for you and…we really are worried.”

“I know.” Phil promised, letting fresh tears slid down his face. He didn’t have any desire to move, let alone to force them off his skin. “Bye, Lou.”

From: Dan

the apartment is looking a bit drab. where are my flowers, you spork.

December 3 1:45pm

From: Dan

phil? phiiiiil

December 3 3:15pm

From: Dan

i was watching a documentary. learned that a group of tigers is called an ambush or a streak? did u know that?

December 3 5:23pm

From: Dan

peej is in town for a couple days between shoots. he wanted to get some flowerinos. when are u going to be back?

December 3 7:44pm

From: Phil

I won’t be selling until the 7th.

December 3 8:31pm

From: Phil

And I did know about the tigers! :D They also snuffle to let you know when they are being friendly.

December 3 8:31pm

From: Dan

boo philly boo. where have you been all day?

December 3 8:32pm

Phil

Sleeping. I wasn’t feeling well.

December 3 8:33pm

From: Dan

do i need to bring u soup? i think we have some…

December 3 8:35pm

From: Phil

Dan. XD I’m fine.

December 3 8:37pm

Phil stared at the phone in his hand, squinting at the too bright flashing display.

Why is Dan calling me?

He rested the phone against his chest, darkening his room once more, before drawing in a long breath. He tapped the button to accept Dan’s call.

“Hello?” Phil’s voice was a gravelly baritone and it seemed to give Dan pause. There was the distant echo of music droning in the background and the breeze caused the line to buzz with static before Dan’s precise way of speaking overpowered everything.

“You would know about the tigers. Why am I not surprised?”

“I know a lot about animals,” Phil informed him without much inflection, rotating onto his left side, as he slid a foot into the cool open air of the room. “They are very interesting.”

Dan didn’t jump to poke fun at the known tidbit like he normally would and Phil didn’t rush to fill the emptiness between them. He closed his eyes and simply took in the sounds of the world where Dan was and the minute popping caused by the wind. He felt...faded- like if you looked too closely at him, you would notice droplets of color clinging to his fingertips from where they bled out of the dull monochrome shell he was inhabiting.

He just wanted it to stop for a moment. He needed it to stop.

It’s not going to...is it?

“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring soup?” Dan’s voice was hushed and calm as he offered once more and Phil was mortified to find that his tear ducts hadn’t run dry.

“No,” Phil denied him again softly, trying not to sniffle too loudly. “I’m...just tired, Danny.”

I’m okay. I’m fine.

“Tired or...tired?” Dan stressed the second utterance before he broke in: “Hang on, Phil.” and there was a sudden crackling like the crumpling of a piece of paper. Phil could hear Dan’s familiar timbre before a pleasant, feminine tone joined him. They seemed to be chatting and Phil didn’t move, letting the white noise lull him into a semi-awake doze.

Dan returned with an apologetic, “Sorry about that.” and Phil hummed languidly in acknowledgement. He knew that he should probably try and reassure Dan that it really was fine but his mouth refused to cooperate, burdened with not-quite there sleep.

“Are you okay, Phil?” Dan fretted. “Honestly.”

Don’t worry him. Say it. Say what you always say.

“...I don’t know.” Phil whispered instead, lips loosened in the suspended state his consciousness seemed to have drifted to after this long day. “I don’t know anymore, Dan. Honestly.”

From: Phil

Sorry about last night.

December 4 8:54am

From: Dan

for?

December 4 11:47am

From: Phil

Good morning to you, sleepy head.

December 4 11:49am

From: Phil

For falling asleep. I was more tired than I thought.

December 4 11:51am

From: Dan

it’s all good philly. i learned that u snore.

December 4 11:55am

From: Phil

I DO NOT DANIEL.

December 4 11:57am

From: Dan

if u say so.

December 4 11:58am

From: Dan

how are you feeling though?

December 4 12pm

Phil stared unseeingly at the blinking line at the end of his newly composed Tweet, cursor hovering over the button to post it. His mind raced with snippets of conversations.

Some were recent and tied directly to the choice he was about to make.

Some were carried from his younger years and didn’t have anything to do with the potential aftermath of this single click.

All of them featured those who had become dear to him.

“They will ask questions about everything, Phil. Even Aiden.”

“I don’t think you need that kind of stress, sweetie. Being the center of attention for fans is a commitment and...you are not in the right headspace to take that on.” Louise had explained in one of the most maternal tones she had taken with him since they had met. “Maybe wait a bit?”

“If it makes you happy, son.” Phil’s father’s hand was firm on his shoulder as he met his father’s apprehensive but earnest gaze. “Then...go for it.”

Phil took a breath, holding the pad of his mousepad down.

“Sometimes,” Aiden’s heel was balanced on the sliver of chair edge he had available. Phil’s senses were pleasantly numbed by the sugary tasting beverages he had been indulging in all night so he merely giggled at his boyfriend, red-faced and cheery. Aiden crowded him to press a chaste kiss to his nose before biting his plump lower lip seductively. “You have to jump into the deep end. Are you ready, birthday boy?”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, Philip, but the people around you have made their stances clear. Whatever you decide, I’ll support it.” He could almost feel the crushing hug his mum would give him if she were with him. “Just be ready to face the consequences.”

@pocketPHILofsunshine tweeted: Hi guys! If you have questions that don't have to do with flowers, direct them to @AmazingPhil please. Keep this account Flower-PHIL! :)

December 4 6:47pm

Phil had his headphones in, staring at the two choices in his hands indecisively. He lifted the box of Shreddies up to peer at the blue container with an unenthusiastic twist of his lips.

I should get this one. I had sugary cereal the last time…

He brought the Honey Nut Cheerios box to rest against the other and continued to argue with himself about the merits of having a less healthier option two times in his cereal rotation.

As long as I go back to Shreddies the next time, it’ll be fine. I think I deserve a bit of yummy unhealthiness in my belly for a bit longer.

I need to make sure to eat some healthy cereal, though… I need to make sure my diet is balanced.

He didn’t hear the shocked gasp or the rapid squeaks of thrilled converse-clad feet over the warbling guitar riff strumming in his ears so he wasn’t prepared when slim, dainty fingers curved over his shoulder with a playfully firm grip.

Phil jumped. He fumbled with the boxes that slipped from his hold and watched helplessly as they crashed to the floor. The pressure on his shoulder disappeared as he removed both earpieces, reaching in his pocket to flick the jack out of his phone to pause his playlist with a soundless breath of annoyance.

Phil let the wire fall so it dangled from his zipped red jacket before he turned around to face the person who had approached him, loosening his pursed lips and relaxing his jaw into a more neutral but open expression.

She was already kneeling, propped on one knee, to pick up the cereal he had dropped with a startled but lively laugh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Phil.” The woman apologized before standing with the boxes held against her chest like a student carrying a stack of textbooks. She blew a lock of straightened, vibrant amber-red hair and Phil couldn’t help but think of how the style suited her.

It was chopped into messy tendrils that were forced flat and brushed her shoulders with even the slightest dip or rotation of her head. She shot him a wide smile and the next statement forced Phil’s wandering mind to focus. “I wanted to meet the boy Dan has been telling me about!”

“It’s okay,” Phil reassured courteously, wracking his brain for the names of friends’ Dan had mentioned the most frequently.

The two that came to mind were Ruth and Sophie because Dan had told him about the chaos the trio found themselves in regularly and how their differences in personalities made for some hilarious outcomes.

Phil didn’t want to take a shot in the dark as to who the friendly redhead was because if he guessed wrong, this already awkward encounter would become unbearably awkward. He shrugged his shoulder good naturedly and gave an abashed giggle. “I’m naturally clumsy so they would have ended up on the floor at some point. I’m sorry.” Phil cleared his throat. “You are…?”

“Oh! You would think that I would’ve gotten better with introductions.” She smacked the side of her head with her right hand before extending it to him. “I’m Ruthine, but you probably heard Dan call me Ruth- which is preferred.” She chattered with a vitality that Phil wished he could sustain and the fond way her lips caress Dan’s name let a joyful but closed lip smile spread across his face. “Pleased to meet you.”

So, this is Ruth. She certainly seems high-spirited and ballsy like Dan said.

It also looks like she and Dan are close. That’s good.

“It’s nice to finally put a face with your name, Ruth.” Phil shook her hand before moving it to scratch at the back of his head self-consciously. “How’s filming coming along? Dan mentioned you were really excited for it.”

“It’s fun!” Ruth gushed, crushing the cereal closer to her body as she bounced from foot to foot excitedly. There was a faint crunching with each motion but she didn’t notice. “I mean, it’s tiring, sure, and my feet are always dying at the end because of the shoes but I really enjoy it. I just need to let everyone know on Twitter,” Ruth’s eyes flickered with unflappable joy and contentment. “-but I’m waiting until filming is close to being finished. It won’t be too long now!”

Phil gave Ruth an exhilarated smile and his heart filled with pride for the woman standing in front of him. This woman who was giving off her happiness in a tangible aura and who had accomplished something that meant a lot to her.

“You should be proud!” Phil burst out, bubbling with the positivity exuding from Ruth and his own delight at how well she was doing. “You should tweet as soon as it’s done so everyone can hear about it.” He encouraged, rocking back on his heels. “I’ll favorite and retweet it when you do!”

Ruth’s eyes widened as she considered him with a slight agape mouth before she marvelled, “He wasn’t kidding when he said ‘the embodiment of sunshine’- Wow.”

“I’m sorry?” Phil couldn’t help the way his voice climbed a few octaves within his register, eyebrows shooting up.

“Well,” Ruth began, extending the box of Shreddies to him, and Phil accepted it. He laid it in the handheld basket he had placed on the ground, only sparing the Honey Nut Cheerios a second of silent longing. “I asked Dan to describe you in three phrases.” Phil couldn’t help but tilt his head at Ruth with a crooked grin. She raised a single brow at him, shifting to place a hand on her hip. “It’s something that we do since we meet a lot of people all at once. Anyway,” Ruth sang, sticking the tip of her tongue out at Phil briefly. “The three phrases Dan gave me were: the literal-” Ruth broke up the syllables and put stresses where Dan normally did when he spoke the phrase himself. “-embodiment of sunshine, clumsy as fuck, and ‘my best friend.’ “

Phil could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks and the dampness starting to cover his palms at the words.

I’m Dan’s best friend?

He stood motionless as Ruth turned to place the Honey Nut Cheerios on the shelf before he realized that he should speak.

How do I even respond to that?

“Well,” Phil’s fingers came to twirl around one of his earbuds listlessly and Ruth waited patiently as he paused, a half-smile playing across her lips. “Dan’s very sweet. He’s told me about you too.” Phil recounted, still recovering from the onslaught of praise. “I believe he said you are ‘the sweetest person. Oh my god.’ “ He couldn’t help but chuckle. “And he warned me that if I became your friend, I may have to prevent some fights and,” Phil hesitated, uncertain if he should disclose this particular descriptor Dan had used for Ruth, before letting it slip. “-that you were cute. He’s right.”

Ruth laughed, fully and unrestrained. “Of course, he would say that. That prat.”

The words were tinkling bells ringing with golden notes of endearment and for a moment, Phil felt his chest seize, but Ruth, thankfully, rolled into her next thought. “I’m sure the words ‘impulsive’ and ‘hot-head’ made an appearance too.”

“...maybe once or twice,” Phil affirmed, smile spreading until his teeth were exposed.

“That little shit,” Ruth quipped before giving an exasperated shake of her head. “See if I help him manage the fans next time he decides to pull a video.”

“They certainly seemed riled,” Phil agreed, bending to grab the list he had scribbled to keep himself on track to hide the nervous jiggle of his knee. “It shows that they are invested in his content.”

Ruth’s eyes flashed with an unreadable glint. “I guess so.” Phil’s brows knitted together as Ruth quieted, top teeth trapping her lip gently. She blinked after a moment, clearing away the cloud of emotion. “It’s different being on the other end.”

“I think I’m starting to get it,” Phil put in quietly, flicking the page in his hand, as he stood. “Lou and Chris always told me that but I didn’t really understand.”

“That’s right! You made a Twitter account for questions, right?”

“Er… I didn’t make it for questions…” Phil ran his hand across his chin, feeling the scratchiness of the stubble he had yet to shave. “It’s actually my personal account.”

Ruth gaped at him, slack-mouthed, before spluttering skeptically, “You can’t be serious?”

Phil simply shrugged in response and Ruth clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her groan.

“You are serious!” Ruth lamented before letting a partly perplexed, partly vexed, “Phil.” ring through the air.

“What?” Phil tilted his head at Ruth who laid a hand on his shoulder solemnly. Phil couldn’t help but notice how she and Dan shared the shallow creases around their eyes that betrayed the amusement buried beneath their quick wit and irritated tone. He relaxed at the familiar sight.

“I am adding you on Twitter,” She vowed, the dark navy of her irises determined. “You’re going to need back up.”

“I have Lou and Chris,” Phil giggled, picturing the two in question posing back to back in matching black suits, grumbling all the while. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime,” Ruth sang, letting her hand fall away to run down the smooth fabric of her jade skirt. “How are you enjoying the spotlight, though? The fandom is intrigued by you.”

“I don’t see why- I’m not very interesting.” Phil gathered his lips into one corner. “They are just curious because I’m a new face.”

“And,” Ruth canted her head before starting a slow saunter down the aisle. Phil gathered his basket, following her lead. “Dan has a horrible poker face when he has a soft spot for someone and people like to jump to conclusions.” She skipped ahead of him, shoes protesting with high pitched cries on the tiled floor, before she spun around with a flourish and a wink. “I have to give it to them...Phan is a very cute ship name.”

Phil knows that it is impossible to feel the Earth rotating beneath his feet but he swears that it suddenly stopped because he stumbles, feet skidding with the momentum that has to be lost somehow. He corrects his faulty equilibrium before he can properly embarrass himself but his breath is caught in an icy lump somewhere in his lungs.

Phan is a cute ship name rings through his head in a chorus and without warning, there’s heat flooding his cheeks, darkening the tips of his ears, and if his hair wasn’t layered in darkness from a bottle...he’s sure it would be crimson as well. His heart jumped in an irregular rhythm as he rubbed his arm, giving a short, half-suppressed jitter of a laugh.

“You really are clumsy,” Ruth observed dryly, hands outstretched as if she was preparing to catch him. She dropped them with a silvery giggle. “Nice save.”

“Yeah,” Phil choked out, silently imploring his heart to ease into the stable bassline he was used to.

He probably shouldn’t press the subject with how his nerves were crackling like a live wire but he had always been too curious for his own good. “Aren’t most YouTubers against shipping?”

“I’m not a YouTuber,” Ruth reminded him, tucking her hair behind her ear and sweeping it behind her shoulder. “I’m an actress. Shipping comes with the territory but,” She tapped her lips with a single finger. “It is nice when it’s your partner you’re shipped with. Plus, being able to share that part of yourself with your audience…” Phil watches as the muscles around her eyes seem to relax and a simper spreads across her lips. “It’s nice.” The tender expression doesn’t fade even as she snorts. “Dan thinks a bit differently, but I still love him.”

There’s something dark stirring in his chest and Phil feels it slicing down his torso, snarling and demanding to be let out, but he forces it back.

He straightened his posture and slipped into the mask he had come to know almost as well as himself over the last couple of years.

I’m just tired. I just need to take a nap when I get home.

“So,” Phil nudged Ruth with his elbow, giving her his own cheeky wink. He ignored the sudden weariness weighing down on his body and mind as he prodded her again. “Do you ship it?”

“Phan?” Ruth clarifies, bumping him with her hip in retaliation.

“Mm-hmm.”

The mask is shuddering, barely clinging to him and Phil pretends he doesn’t feel his heart sinking. He pretends that there isn’t envy trailing through his veins as Ruth taps a single finger against her chin, lips pressed together as if in deep thought. He pretends that he doesn’t wish it was him with the glittering eyes and a content, secure smile.

He pretends that he hasn’t seen this same expression in old photographs from what seems like a lifetime ago.

“I ship it,” Ruth concludes finally, fingers skimming over the strip of leather around her neck, playing with the four leaf clover charm in the center absentmindedly. Phil presses his arm closer to his body, basket brushing just under his thigh. “But, it’s got nothing on Ruthiel.”

Phil plays his part. He laughs through lungs threatening to collapse under their burden and delivers his line flawlessly.

“Of course not.”

It doesn’t click until Phil is scrolling through Twitter, controller set aside after a sloppy race, that the sluggish synapses of his brain make the connection.

@danisnotonfire followed you

December 5 2:32am

@RuthineHayes followed you

December 5 5:43pm

Ruthine Hayes. That tweet that had been adamant had not been gay with the hashtag Ruthiel.

Phil pushes his fringe off of his clammy forehead with a quiet groan before he flicks through his feed slowly, taking the time to read the comments and questions people have sent him in the past twenty-four hours.

@danisnotonfire tweeted: @RuthineHayes met a wild @AmazingPhil today. what’s the verdict?

December 5 5:50pm

@RuthineHayes replied: A lot less flowery than expected but lovely nonetheless. I’m keeping him. @AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire

December 5 5:55pm

@Addicted2Stucky replied: @RuthineHayes @AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire I need #Phithine fics yesterday.

December 5 9:45pm

@NotYourAverageFan replied: @RuthineHayes @AmazingPhil @danisnotonfire #Phan or #Ruthiel? Or #Lestowell #Haster And I agree!!! More fics!!!

December 5 10:17pm

@LemmeRainOnYourParade replied: @RuthineHayes @danisnotonfire The REAL question is which do YOU guys prefer? Ruthiel, Phan, or Phithine?

December 6 12:23am

It is four thirty in the morning and Phil is not equipped to handle this after a night of restless tossing and turning and an uneasy sleep plagued with turbulent dreams that leave only the echoes of terror and loss behind. The menu screen of Mario Kart burns his eyes as he stretches out on the floor, making his way down the thread.

@RuthineHayes replied: People will ship what they ship regardless. Though, nothing beats #Phithine, eh, @AmazingPhil? @danisnotonfire? ;)

December 6 12:28am

@danisnotonfire replied: i see how it is. i will take my carton of ice cream and enjoy a movie by myself. maybe i’ll read some phanfiction? who knows.@RuthineHayes

December 6 12:32am

Phil chuckled sleepily. He hadn’t been aware there was fanfiction about them. Was this going to be one of those things that fizzled out?

@RuthineHayes: Jealous, @danisnotonfire? XD I told you I’m keeping him. @AmazingPhil

December 6 12:35am

@danisnotonfire: i think @AmazingPhil should get a say. what do you think, phil?

December 6 12:37am

Phil taps the bottom of his screen, muddled mind tripping over itself to string together an appropriate response and he is carried away by the current of sleep, still covering the glowing letters of his phone’s keyboard.

From: Martyn

You really need some sleep, Phil. You looked exhausted today.

December 6 3pm

From: Phil

It’s probably the quality of my laptop’s camera. Makes me look even more pale. I’m fine. :P

December 6 3:04pm

From: Phil

I think you’re right about hiring more drivers for deliveries but I’m not sure if we have enough of a budget to buy out some more vehicles.

December 6 3:05pm

From: Martyn

We could buy some used but with repairs and the repainting of the bodies that will definitely need to happen, it might not be feasible in the long term.

Decmber 6 3:07pm

From: Martyn

You and that ugly yellow.

December 6 3:08pm

From: Phil

Hey! It’s a good color!

December 6 3:10pm

From: Phil

So, hold off for now?

December 6 3:10pm

From: Phil

And Cor approves. You just don’t appreciate the amazing taste in colors I have.

December 6 3:11pm

From: Martyn

Yeah, we’ll wait but it needs to happen. You’re setting up tomorrow, right?

December 6 3:15pm

From: Martyn

And pffft. Cornelia is just being sweet and lying to you.

December 6 3:16pm

From: Phil

Actually shut up and yeah. I’ll be out tomorrow.

December 6 3:18pm

There was a cold, quiet fury in Phil’s eyes as Aiden met his gaze unblinkingly. He brushed past Phil without a word, the plastic of his foot brace clicking on the hard floor of their kitchen, and Phil followed him into the lounge.

Aiden’s reusable water bottle was wedged into the crook of his arm and Phil set it down on the low coffee table while its owner threw himself onto the couch.

Aiden ripped the two velcro fasteners secured across his lower leg open with more force than necessary.

Phil chewed the inside of his cheek before he tangled a hand in his fringe.

“Aiden,” He sighed, twisting the strands in his hold apprehensively. “I know you don’t want-”

“You’re right,” Aiden seethed as he swung his left leg upwards, grabbing his now bare ankle to prop it on his opposite knee, and started to knead the belly of his calf in quick, sharp jabs. Phil caught the disgruntled grimace that Aiden tried to suppress as his bullheaded boyfriend spat, “I don’t want. End of discussion, Philip.”

The blatant and direct barb stung and it stoked the fire boiling Phil’s blood. His stomach clenched with the intensity and he sucked in a loud breath, letting it out in a serpentine hiss.

“Aiden,” Phil echoed, keeping a tight reign on his volume. “Seriously. We-”

“I said no.” Aiden was still massaging his tensed muscle resolutely, refusing to glance at Phil. “You are not changing my mind.”

Phil could understand why Aiden was evading the subject, could see the slight vibrations travelling along the length of his fingers as he moved to smooth a flat palm down the bunched up fibrous tissue to soothe the persistent ache Phil knew was there. His eyes lingered on the way Aiden’s palm was nearly level with his thumb from this view and remembered that there used to be a pudge, flicking his eyes away as bile churned in his stomach.

He knew that Aiden was trying to put on a brave face but he was also being obstinate in his denial that things might (“Will certainly,” The part of him removed from his dream self’s turbulent thoughts whispered with a weary resignation. “He wasn’t the only one in denial.”) spiral out of control faster than either of them were prepared for.

They needed to talk about it.

“It’s been two months,” Phil’s rushing blood had his feet wearing a small path in the carpet as he paced in the space between their table and television. “Your symptoms are progressing and even with the foot brace-”

“The benefits are only going to last while I still have decent muscle mass and strength,” Aiden interrupted him in a high mocking tone, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back. “I know. I was there, Phil. She’s my physical therapist.”

“Still-” Phil insisted, forcing his hand away from his tender scalp.

“You’re worrying too much.”

“Why are you being so fucking stubborn?” Phil doesn’t mean to yell but Aiden’s dismissal of his condition caused the anger that had been simmering to blaze, snapping the frayed thread of his control. “You can’t act like nothing has changed forever! Because it has!”

Aiden dropped his leg to the floor with a sickening dull thud as Phil wrestled to even out the angry huffs of air his breathing had become.

He made a beeline for Phil. He was walking deliberately, raising his foot and setting it down carefully, with a violent storm evident in his eyes.

“Say that again,” Aiden challenged and Phil’s shoulder blades tensed at the somewhat indistinct murmur, warning bells chiming in his mind. Aiden was hardly ever this quiet, this deadly calm and his eyes were frigid with a barely restrained glint of rage.

The mosaic of emotions Phil was used to seeing play across Aiden’s eyes were wiped away by this single, overpowering feral reaction and it rendered him speechless for a moment.

“Do it,” Aiden commanded through gritted teeth and Phil registered that he should fall back, create some space for the both of them, as the air was charged and ready to spark.

“Stop. Acting. Like. Nothing. Has. Changed,” Phil growled and stepped in to Aiden’s space until they were toe to toe, drawing back his shoulders and elongating his spine to tower over Aiden with the couple of inches he had at his disposal. “We need to talk about the possibility that you will need a wheel-”

“Fuck off!” Aiden snarled, grabbing a handful of Phil’s purple Gengar shirt, as he yanked him forward. Phil dug his heels in to keep his balance as Aiden wobbled. “You are not the one who is dealing with this!” Aiden’s arm jerked and Phil let out a grunt as his back was forced to bend so he could drop his torso with the involuntary motion.

A flicker of alarm widened Aiden’s eyes and he loosened his grip. He, however, refused to relinquish his hold entirely and Phil could feel Aiden’s breath ghosting over his cheeks, could see the way his nostril were flaring, and-

“You’re not the one seeing your running time drop.”

Phil’s hands fell away from where they had shot up to encircle the wrist of the hand trapping him. Aiden’s line of sight followed the motion. The waves of his hair hid his eyes but his tongue darted out to lick his shaking lower lip.

“You’re not the one who can’t clean animals’ teeth at work.” Aiden’s volume had weakened but there was still an edge in the way his vowels tore through the air. “I just completed my veterinary nursing degree, Dibbit. You don’t know how that feels.”

“Adey-” Phil whispered, reaching a hand out to the other without any conscious input.

(There was something off about the scene. He could sense it- there was an eerie feeling hovering around his dreamscape and Phil didn’t like it, mind scrambling to try and pinpoint the danger.)

“You aren’t the one dying.” It wasn’t Aiden’s voice that answered him this time and he took a step back in alarm, heel skidding over the carpet uselessly. He toppled backward, dragging the person still clutching his shirt with him and he was met with frightened glistening cinnamon eyes.

“Dan?” He gasped. “What-”

Dan was crushing his ribcage and Phil’s hands tugged at any available surface to try and get him off, throat clenching at the panicked shrieks of his lungs.

He couldn’t breathe.

Dan didn’t react to his scrabbling fingers and only repeated, “You aren’t the one dying.”

“I-” Phil coughed before he tried to beg, eyes watering. “Plea-I-Dan-can’t-hel-”

(Was this what it was like to suffocate?)

Dan’s eyes caught his own unfalteringly as he struggled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and Phil had to be imaging things because as blackness spread across his vision...he could have sworn a few teardrops splattered against his skin to mix with his own.

(He needed to wake up.)

Dan was lying in a hospital bed that was all too familiar and Phil reached for him hastily, only to yelp in pain as his hand smashed into glass. He cradled it against his torso, watching helplessly as Dan rocked his body with as much force as he could with the dead weight of his unresponsive arms and twitching legs.

“You’re okay, Danny,” Phil promised the terrified boy, laying both of his palms on the barrier between them. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

Dan didn’t seem to hear him, heart monitor climbing with shrill screeches, and Phil banged against the glass to try and get the attention of Ruth who was curled on the lumpy cot provided to visitors.

She was sleeping deeply even with the chaos surrounding her.

“Wake up, Ruth!” Phil shouted, battering the glass with closed fists desperately. His knuckles were already starting to ache and swell but he continued his seemingly impossible mission. “RUTHINE! Fuck! C’mon!” There was a crunch and agony careened through the network of his pain cells but his mind was too overloaded with agitated desperation and terror that the awkward angle of his bent fingers didn’t register. “He needs you! PLEASE.”

Dan’s eyelashes fluttered against his blotched cheeks and the panicked beeping slowed and Phil saw the peaks of the lines get lower and lower and lower…

“NO!” Phil cried and the glass shattered, wedging itself into his hand and wrist- flaying his skin open- ruby beads bubbling from the slices before they gathered and slid down his skin…

He felt none of it as he hauled Dan up by his shoulders to crush the boy against his chest, engulfing him with his body as if he could use himself as a shield from the long single note filling the room.

“Wake up,” Phil whispered, resting a bloodied hand on the back of Dan’s skull gently. “Daniel.”

The continuous line showing Dan’s motionless heart didn’t change and…

He didn’t answer.

“Wake up,” Phil repeated hoarsely. “Wake up.”

A hand slammed on his shoulder and Phil lifted his head numbly to meet Aiden’s sad, calm eyes.

“Eventually, I want you to move on, Dibbit. It’s okay. I’m sure they’ll love you more than I do.”

Phil managed to throw himself to the floor just he was flung into awareness.

He didn’t cry out as he crashed against the carpet with a galloping heart and flooded cheeks. He only raised his hands to his pulsating eyes and rotated the heels of his palms over them with a muted, shuddering sigh.

Phil resigned himself to an early start. He just needed to gather up the shards of his chaotic, worn out, and jaded mind and arrange the pieces into some semblance of stability first.

Phil bolted before his mind could properly catch up-grogginess clinging to its buzzing emptiness in a fog. His environment was a smear of hazy, unfocused and too-bright colors and fear thrummed in his veins as he whirled around so his back wasn’t exposed to the presence behind him.

The unmistakable sound of pots shattering pierced through his alarmed and addled brain and he blinked rapidly to rid the sleep clinging to him until his vision sharpened.

Dan was gawking at him. His hands were raised to show the flat of his palms and a hesitant but mischief-making smile had his lips jumping as recognition washed over Phil. His muscles went lax as he welcomed the hasty, snide company he had grown accustomed to instantly.

Oh. I missed you, you freakin’ brat.

“I didn’t expect you to try and take down the table,” Dan coughed as he lowered his arms slowly, the indentation in his cheek appearing as he fought to suppress the urge to flash his teeth at Phil in a mock growl. “Be ready at all times, Philly.”

Phil scowled at Dan for a moment, lips turned down enough to be noticeable, before he gave a lopsided, forgiving smile.

“You’re an ass.” He smoothed his palms down the crinkled fabric covering his chest then brought a fist to his eye to rub it with a yawn. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep...it just happened.” Phil grumbled at the dry scratchiness of his cornea that always appeared after he slept while wearing his contacts. “What time is it, anyway?”

My eyes shouldn’t be this irritated. I probably have only been asleep for half an hour at most…

“It’s half past three,” Dan clarified.

Or not. Holy shit.

Phil groaned as he came to the conclusion he had been out for the better part of three hours. He turned away from Dan’s quirked brows and innocently curious eyes to wander the invisible path he routinely used to check on his plants- poking carefully at leaves, maneuvering hanging vines slowly to check for any blemishes, and pattering his fingertips against soil to check if he needed to add water to any of them that were soaking in the sun.

Dan followed behind him lazily, shadowing his movements.

“Everything is here,” Phil breathed out in relief before frowning at the shards of glass and clay littering the grass around the table he had been napping on. “Not untouched, but here. Oh,” Phil cooed as he kneeled beside the fallen purple calla lilies. “I’m sorry, guys. I cut you up all nice and pretty for a bouquet and now you’re on the floor. Hold on-”

Phil’s thoughtless but loving rambling was interrupted as a thick white vase filled his vision without warning. He followed Dan’s arm upwards until he was met with the juxtaposition of his boisterous laugh and the quiet consideration that his eyes exposed.

“The vase fits their aesthetic,” Dan pointed out, giving the vase in his hand a jiggle. “I bet they’ll be happier in here.”

Phil couldn’t help but note the way his top lip tended to lift higher on one side as he talked (probably a sign of his near constant amusement) and the way one dimple appeared and reappeared on his right cheek while the one on his left was always present. He realized that he had zoned out when the cool surface of the vase grazed his cheek.

“Earth to Phil? Are you going to take it or what?”

“Yes,” Phil murmured, still dazed, before his eyes widened. “Oh! Yes! Yes- sorry.” He finally grabbed the vase from Dan to start placing the lilies in it. “I’m still a bit out of it.”

“A bit?” Dan goaded as his pointer finger rapped against the top of Phil’s head. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“Some of us have to wake up early, Danny boy.” Phil retaliated, swishing the lily in his grip towards Dan slowly, grinning when his hair stirred as the other pulled away. There was an insistent tugging as if there was a very thin thread coiled around his heart that tightened so gradually...he only registered the tension when his breath caught at the indescribable something dancing through his bloodstream and it left him aching in a way that he felt he should know and yet...

Ignore it. His inner voice directed sternly.

So, Phil fixated on the grass kissing his fingertips, on the roughness of the dirt beneath his nails, the solidness of the stem that brushed against him, before a lightning bolt of inspiration struck him. He stifled the smirk threatening to give him away.

Revenge will be mine and oh, so sweet.

Dan hadn’t moved from his convenient position. His concentration was zeroed in on Phil as it tended to be when they were conversing, and Phil guessed that Dan had taken his pause for one of those moments that Phil wracked his brain for a clever insult or tried to unjumble said insult from his uncoordinated tongue.

It is perfect. A perfect moment.

Phil crushed said tongue against his teeth to keep the obvious tell under control as he steeled himself, cataloging the spaces where he was least likely to severely injure himself while he put his plan in action, before springing at Dan with an ear-splitting, “BANG!”

Dan’s shriek was instantaneous, high-pitched, and almost unbearably loud. He leapt away from Phil, bug-eyed, and plunged backwards. There was a moment of hopeless struggle as Dan’s muscles bunched in fear before he threw his arms back to try and cushion his fall with another yelp.

Phil’s ears were ringing as he descended into an out of control bout of laughter, clutching his stomach with one arm.

Dan splayed his fingers over his beating heart and forced his palm against the area to try and take back the decade of his life he had just lost. “What the actual fuck, Phil?! You nearly gave me a heart attack, you nutter!”

“Your...face-” Phil gasped, inhaling quickly to refill his straining lungs and some saliva got dragged along with the motion.

He gagged as it hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t help giggling even more. His uninterrupted chortling at the baffled and mildly affronted squint Dan was sporting was breathless and painful as he continued to cough. He smacked his chest forcefully. “I can’t-”

“Serves you right,” Dan grumbled but he was already reaching for Phil, scooting until he could easily maneuver his hand around his friend’s side to slap his back forcefully.“Breathe, Phil-”

Phil was sent into a fresh wave of his slightly nasally sounds of lively amusement, leaning forward into Dan’s chest. Dan lifted his eyes skyward with an affectionate sigh to smother the way his lips were beginning to stretch across his face, letting the tremors of Phil’s slowly dying exhilaration rumble through him.

“Are you done?” Dan deadpanned after it was obvious that Phil had calmed a bit.

“I-” Phil was deliberately breathing in and holding the oxygen in for several seconds before exhaling. “I think so.” His tongue wagged from one side of his mouth to the other rapidly. “Be ready at all times.”

“You-” Dan growled, jabbing his pointer finger into Phil’s side painfully. Phil squeaked but chuckled, flinching away. “No, Phil.”

“I’m sorry!” Phil cried as Dan poked him again, shying away from the ticklish jolt that travelled down his spine at the invasion of his neck. “I’m done!” He smashed his chin against his shoulder to guard against Dan’s relentless assault. “I promise!”

“If you say so,” Dan hummed without any hesitation, letting Phil catch his breath, before engulfing him in a light brief hug. “How was your trip? I was going to ask before I was so rudely interrupted.”

Phil relished the brief warmth surrounding him, patting Dan on the back softly. “It was good,” He answered automatically but the flow of his words slowed to a hesitant crawl as he kept on. “I visited with Ellie and she had some...interesting things to say.” Phil fought the impulse to squeeze his wrist, settling for rubbing away the unexpected chill skipping along the surface of his arm. “I also saw Sammie for a moment. I still can’t believe she’s eighteen,” Phil murmured, talking more to himself than Dan at this point.

“Dilip?” Sammie rushed to tackle him, dropping her paint spattered backpack by the door carelessly, and wrapped him in a constricting hug that had him wheezing. Her chestnut blonde hair spiralled in loose billowy locks to tickle Phil’s nose as he swayed from the impact of her landing, chuckling.

“I see you’ve missed me.” Phil goaded and Sammie released him to slap his upper arm with a huff.

“I did,” She agreed as a joyous sparkle danced in her irises as her painted ruby lips quirked in a single corner in a sly smirk. “That doesn’t mean you can act like a right twat when you walk in the door. I can still kick your ass in my cheer skirt,” She tacked on with a sassy flip of her ponytail.

“Samantha!” Ellie’s voice rang out from the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner. “Be nice to Philip!”

“I haven’t heard that in a while,” Sammie snorted, ripping the tight elastic band holding her hair back and scrubbing her fingers across her sore scalp. She called back to her mother with an exaggerated whine, “I’m not six anymore, Mum! Dilip can handle it!” She elbowed him pointedly as she went to retrieve her fallen backpack.

Phil didn’t doubt that there would be tangles when she tried to brush out the puffy mop that her hair had become. He touched the still flat and hairsprayed portion that stopped at the crown of her head with devilishly purposeful fingers.

“Don’t,” Sammie warned him but Phil twisted a chunk of her hair and tugged on it with a moderate amount of force. Her nose crinkled with annoyance but when Phil grinned, she mirrored the action.

“Nice mane.”

“Actually shut up.”

“Who’s Sammie?”

“Oh.” Phil mentally scolded himself for his oversight- Of course, Dan doesn’t know who Sammie is- and he inclined his head in a silent apology. “I haven’t mentioned her, have I? She’s Aiden’s younger sister. I’ve pretty much known her all her life since she was six when Aiden and I shared biology class.”

“Six?” Dan parroted in disbelief, eyelashes framing his open eyes owlishly before stressing the word once more. “Six?”

“Yes, Dan.” Phil couldn’t help but jest, nudging the other with a stabilizing palm against his sternum. “Sammie was six when I met her for the first time.”

“How old were you?” Phil could practically see the gears spinning in Dan’s mind as the words cascaded from the other’s lips in a rush. “You’re twenty-six and she’s eighteen which makes her eight years your junior. If she was six when you met, then you would be…”

“I was fourteen,” Phil contributed in an unperturbed and level inflection, entertained by the riled energy that was always lurking beneath the detached and calm front Dan liked to put on leaking through his rapid and exasperated speech. “It’s basic arithmetic, mate.”

“Shut it,” Dan parried without a beat then lapsed into a single breath of silence before bursting out: “Fourteen? Really?”

“Yup,” Phil shifted to stretch out his right leg from underneath him, being mindful of the glass still scattered around them, while he relocated the vase of lilies to rest next to his hip. “She was much shyer back then. Just as much of a brat but she was quieter.”

“And she knew you and Aiden were…?” Dan trailed off, letting the tail end of his timid question hang between them.

Phil pinched the fabric of his jeans between his fingers quietly, trying to ignore the unpleasant fluttering of his pulse at the base of his throat where his heart had decided to nest itself, making him uncomfortably aware of his need to draw in air.

Dan is your friend. You need to open up… even if it is just a little bit.

I don’t want to do this…

You trust him, don’t you?

Those five words caused the invisible strings of the mask of his persona to come undone and as Phil caught Dan’s gaze...he couldn’t bring himself to care as he took in the reserved curiosity reflected in the depths. There wasn’t any hint of judgement or any inkling of Dan wanting to push Phil past his comfort zone and the unspoken acceptance that a nonanswer wouldn’t be met with any resistance and taken as a reply in and of itself...

The tension that had gathered at the base of his neck drained away as he took that leap of faith.

“Of course, she did.” Phil closed his eyes as he spoke, letting the image of a Year 10 Aiden leaning into his personal space coalesce behind the darkness of his eyelids. “Imagine if you will,” Phil raised his hands, squinting into the sunlight, and gestured as he talked. “A nine year old Sammie- who is 150 centimeters now, mind you- threatening to hide my body if I so much as made Adey shed one tear.” A gritty chuckle escaped him without warning and Phil stuffed his arms under his apron. “She was in her princess phase and was wearing a flower crown littered with roses. She was adorable and trying to scare me. I can’t say that it worked but…”

The framing of her flower crown was bent and uneven causing it to slip over her eye but Phil had schooled his features to match the pursed lips and furrowed brows of the young girl blocking his way.

He was seventeen and had just broken six feet of gangly limbs so Sammie raised herself on the tips of her toes to try and lessen the two foot height difference between them. She was a flawless replica of her mother as she refused to budge from the kitchen doorway, fingers wrinkling the baggy shorts she had donned to romp around in the garden that she, Aiden, and Phil had joint custody of.

“I heard you kissed my brother.” Sammie didn’t beat around the bush and moved with him as he tried to sidestep through the gap between her and the wall.

“If you want to get technical,” Phil sighed with a small dopey smile as he swivelled his head at Sammie’s antics. “He kissed me first.”

“It doesn’t matter,” She dismissed with a wave her hand before stomping forward with a demanding jab of her finger towards the tiles. “Come here, Dil-Philip.”

Phil sunk down to one knee without a fight, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to keep his composure. He knew that Sammie adored her brother and was adamant about protecting him. If this was what she needed to feel comfortable with the shift of his and Aiden’s relationship, he would listen to what she had to say.

“You remind me of your mum.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Sammie muttered before laying her hands on his shoulders uncertainly, obviously not quite comfortable scolding who was essentially her second older brother but wanting to make her stance clear. She was relying on how she had seen her mum handle serious conversations, and Phil was treating her with the same muted respect as he had for Ellie. It gave her the courage to square her shoulders and jut out her chin. “You know the garden? Make Den-Den cry and I’ll bury you underneath the daisies.”

Phil could only nod or he wouldn’t be able to control the way his lips were jumping at the corners with the explosion of hilarity he was reining in.

“I mean it, Dilip. I’m pretty sure Papa would help me,” Sammie grumbled, miffed by his lack of a proper response and her lower lip started to tremble. “He’s my big brother. I hate his face sometimes but I don’t want to see him cry, okay? He was so upset when you were with that girl last year! He didn’t come out of his room for days and-and-”

Phil opened his arms and even though she had been trying to be strong, Sammie accepted the tranquility that always washed over her when Phil gave her a hug. She sniffled, hiding her face against his neck, and he hoisted her up to rock his weight from foot to foot before making his way out of the kitchen.

“ ‘M not a baby.” Sammie didn’t move from her spot as she protested weakly. She hit him with kittenish swipes against his chin halfheartedly.

“I know,” He passed through the lounge, keeping his words hushed. “Let me tell you a secret?”

“What secret?”

“You’re a good sister and,” Phil let his voice become a wisp, able to nearly be carried away by the whir of the air con through the house. “I won’t hurt Adey...I really care about him, Sammie.”

“I will still bury you in the garden,” Sammie broke in even as she draped her other arm around his shoulder. “Are we going to Ade’s room?”

“Good to know Aiden has such a scary sister in his corner.” Phil’s vocal cords were strained with his unexpressed delight at his boyfriend’s charming sibling. He rubbed her back mechanically and groaned affably, jostling Sammie as he made sure to keep his hip dragging along the wall as he placed his foot on the bottom most step to keep himself (and Sammie) safe as he trudged up the rest. “I guess you can come for a bit but don’t cry if I drop you on accident- you’re heavy!”

“Hey!”

“She sounds like a handful.” Dan chuckled and Phil took a moment to soak in the little nuggets of nostalgic joy the memory of Sammie had dug up. There was something bubbling in the cavity of his chest with the bite of freezing carbonation but the sweetness of cola when he had spent the day craving it and Phil smiled as it frothed and rose to give him the tranquility that had gone astray for the past week.

“You have no idea,” Phil stressed before adding thoughtfully, “She once put mayonnaise in the conditioner bottle. It may be good for hair but the smell. Ugh.”

“So you knew that you liked only lads when you were fourteen?” Dan clapped a hand over his mouth in horror, grinding his teeth. Phil had become well acquainted with the wince Dan wore when his mouth overrode his mental filter. “I didn’t mea-”

“It’s…” The tip of Phil’s tongue was in the process of wetting his suddenly dry lips when Dan’s word choice seeped through the spike of anxiety clouding his brain. “Wait- ‘only’ lads?- have you seen Sarah Michelle Gellar? I’ve had a celebrity crush on her since I discovered Buffy.” He couldn’t help cracking up, pressing his arms against his stomach, and let himself slant backwards before he corrected his position. “I like girls, too, Dan. Even lost my virginity to one. Her name was Angela.”

Dan stuttered, “Oh. Well, then, that-um-that’s…” and Phil watched as the roundness of his cheeks steadily gained vibrancy until he was positive they couldn’t get any more crimson. “Um?”

“It is what is,” Phil shrugged nonchalantly as he swung his legs so he could rest on his heels. “I don’t care much for labels, honestly. I never have but if it helps: I’m bisexual.”

“You-uh-don’t have to label yourself for me.” Dan seemed to be reeling- brain scrambling to find his usual clever but meticulous way of speaking and failing horribly.

The tweet that had insisted that Dan was straight came to Phil’s mind and his face dropped slightly.

Perhaps…

That little niggling inner voice started to whisper and Phil rushed to shut it down.

No, no. Don’t jump to conclusions. You have only mentioned Ade as a partner and he probably thought you were purely into guys. Remember you haven’t been with a girl since...geeze, was Angela really the last?

What if it’s a problem? Liking guys and girls? That voice interrupted his wandering thoughts insistently and Phil couldn’t help but hate the worry that never dissipated whenever his romantic inclinations were brought up. It was tiring, irritating, and unfair to Dan.

Dan hasn’t don-

“It’s fine. All fine.” Dan clarified in a rush and relief washed over Phil. Phil sighed and Dan fiddled with his earring for a second before he cleared his throat. “I...uh...I have a celebrity crush on Harry Styles so like- same.”

Phil’s heart soared at the shy way Dan’s pupils flicked to him and that unknown, indefinable sensation tumbled together with the serene blissfulness still filling his chest. He peered at Dan from beneath his dark lashes with a demure, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dan ran his thumb over the curve of his nails since he couldn’t conceal his fidgeting with the cover of a jumper. “J-Law is pretty rad too.”

Phil let out a breathy chuckle because Dan was immersed in so many fandoms and he knew that once Dan settled in the knowledge that he knew about his celebrity crushes… there would absolutely be a stream of texts gushing about their greatness and screenshots of various tweets with commentary.

Oh, how he adored Dan- who was definitely working himself up, judging by the way he had started plucking at an imaginary thread along the seam of his jeans.

“Come on,” Phil chided, grabbing the vase of lilies he had nearly forgotten about. He expected the little crease that appeared between Dan’s brows and the impatient flick of his wrist that urged Phil to elaborate. “You should help clean up this mess that you created.”

“You were the one who tried to take down the table and,” Dan sassed as he squatted next to a cluster of sweet peas, thumb caressing over some of the crushed blooms mindlessly. “You’re the one who fell asleep.”

“You’re the one who startled me!” Phil argued before he caught sight of the ruined flowers, frowning deeply. He let out an unhappy gush of air before he rested his hand over Dan’s wrist to stop his movements. “Leave those.”

“Why?” Dan’s fingers coiled more securely over the fragile stem. Phil let his hand lift from Dan’s so he could sit on his bum, continuing to place the dark lilies still strewn about in their new holder.

“The stem is snapped and the blooms are squished. It’s not aesthetically appealing,” Phil explained, trying to pinpoint the emotion underlying Dan’s surprising query.

He didn’t sound angry exactly, but there was a definite acidity lurking beneath the single word. It was common sense as to why Phil couldn’t sell damaged wares but Dan had a tendency to jump from the surface level of a situation to metaphysical ponderings of how his, society's, or Phil’s ways of thinking translated into reality. Sometimes, Phil would catch on and others he would have to wait until Dan was ready to reveal the chaotic state his thoughts would twist themselves into at times.

(Sometimes, the way Dan flipped from their lighthearted bants to the serious demeanor that came with his philosophical musings left Phil’s mind pirouetting confusedly on its axis...like this instance.)

“I know,” Dan whispered and he laid the sweet pea back on the ground. “I just…it’s still pretty, you know? And it’s just going to sit here and rot…”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s not? I thought you couldn’t sell it?”

“I can’t,” Phil pushed himself up so he could stand, dusting off his jeans. The glint of his metal cash box caught his eye and he lifted the arrangement of lilies with a quiet, “There’s a better option for them.”

Previous Part: Anger, second act/ Next: Bargaining, second act (WIP)

#Phandom Reverse Bang 2017 #PRB2017 #Phan #Phanfiction #Florist! Phil #YouTuber! Dan #Kat's writing #Ambrose's writing

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