Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

December 2025

The thing with Dan is, he’s not stupid.

Shocking information to some, but after years of therapy he notices stuff about himself, recognizes feelings he otherwise would have ignored and bottled up, marinated inside his stupid head until his brain rots. He knows when something is up, even if he still goes through a little denial phase about it. 

He knows that whatever firm stance on marriage he has cultivated over the years,  and always proudly exclaimed to anyone who asked, is slowly crumbling. 

Well, not exactly ‘slowly crumbling’ because that would imply an ongoing process. It’s more as if what little is left of his beliefs is barely standing at all, and the ‘crumbling’ is already mostly finished, while the wind carries away the remaining rubble. There is no big giant wall that he felt comfortable never climbing anymore, but a few leftover rocks that only require a couple of steps to walk over.

He isn’t stupid. He talked about this with his therapist over half a year ago now. He noticed the small pile of feelings and moments regarding the matter growing in size until it was impossible to call it a coincidence or merely a small episode, and he knew it would only make it worse to further ignore it. 

And honestly, a nightmare about getting married?

A tiny mental breakdown, a month of reconsidering and reconstructing his belief system, and half a year later, he finds himself in a jewellery shop. A fancy jewellery shop.

He has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

He researched the matter, yeah, and he’s somewhat prepared – a month ago or so, after a particularly alcoholic night out, lots of drinks and wine consumed, Phil promptly fell asleep right after his head made contact with the pillow, and Dan decided to use it to his advantage. With the world spinning slightly, using shaky hands he measured Phil’s ring finger and noted it on his phone before he, too, gave into the call of the bed and fell asleep shortly after, one leg dangling off the mattress

Every time he remembered about the note, it felt as if his phone was burning a hole through his pocket for everyone to see, point and laugh. 

Maybe he’s being a little dramatic.

In truth, he doesn’t need to check the note. The number is already permanently etched into his brain.

He walks into the store with barely a vague idea of what he’s looking for. Maybe that's the wrong way to phrase it. He walks into the store with too many ideas that it feels like he doesn't actually know what he's really looking for, exactly. 

He knows he wants to get Phil something that compliments him, that compliments his style, that's for sure. But it's not like he has anything specific to work with, Phil doesn't do aesthetics nearly enough for Dan to look for something exact. He knows he wants to get him something that somehow calls back onto their history, memorabilia of sorts, that represents what they've been through. But then again it can't be sad, because proposals aren't meant to be sad. And how could a ring be sad? But then how could a piece of metal be happy-

“Hello! Can I help you with anything?”

It requires all of Dan's self control and force of will to hold himself back from jumping. The woman behind the counter gives him a nice, practised smile.

“No. Uh, thank you. For now.”

“Alright, if you happen to have any questions feel free to ask.” She resumes whatever work she was doing on her laptop, and Dan thanks all the gods out there that she's not forcing herself onto him. He's really not built for this kind of thing.

On the other hand, he could really just get it together.

The shop is small, and it takes him only a couple of steps until he passes the necklaces, earrings and matching sets and finds the glass case with rings. There are so many it feels like they're blending together if you look at one spot for too long.

There's a lot of gold but silver as well, with the occasional addition of black and even bronze. He has thought about colours and knows that black is out of the question, much to his inner emo's chagrin, because that, under no circumstance, fits Phil whatsoever. Even back in Phil's emo days he would sooner rock a rosy gold than a black band. And bronze- Dan has nothing against it personally, but it just doesn't do it for him, and he doesn't think it would suit Phil either. 

This great elimination process leaves him still with about 90% of options available. Not much help.

It's a decision between gold and silver. He has thought about both and imagined many versions of each colour and he finds some of his ideas to actually exist – like the neat gold with a pressed swirl at the middle, or a silver with small crystals all around it because Phil likes to fidget with his hands a lot and Dan thinks this would be great for that, or the plain rosy gold with two smaller bands around it that give it this slightly more chunky yet still stylish look. Or this other silver with a black straight line going through the middle that curls at its sides into little spirals, or-

But none of them feel authentic enough. 

They all seem repeatable. Dan knows they are, obviously, they are manufactured en masse in hundreds, or even thousands, identical copies of the exact same models he's looking at, probably somewhere in Bangladesh, but it's not only about that. Most of them just feel soulless in a way that he doesn't think an engagement ring should feel. Yes, they're all different types and designs, obviously, but they blend together.

He moves to the smaller display of fewer rings, and some catch his attention immediately. A big gold one with a giant, green, rectangular gemstone at the middle adorned with smaller ones on the band, or a thick rosy gold band with intricate details and pink crystals forming small hearts – he doesn't like them, obviously, and would call them ugly as hell if asked, though they mainly catch his eye because they're so loud with their appearance it's hard to not notice them. The reason they pop out so much though, is because they're interrupted in the display by smaller, much more delicate ones. It's kind of annoying and he thinks they should be arranged more neatly, maybe sorted by size or something, but he isn't an expert on jewellery displays so he's not qualified to judge. 

He still will, though.

This glass window has a lot more going on in the name of crystals and stones of all kinds. The ones that Dan would actually call nice or pretty are the least assuming ones, like a silver band with a black gemstone at the middle, enveloped by a small, matt silver strip going around it, with its ends melting onto the rest of the metal, or yet another silver one with a flat,  rectangular quartz pressed onto it, beautifully reflecting the harsh white light, or this gold one that-

“Looking for a ring, then?”

Dan's head snaps up and the world spins, but he manages to hold himself upright — the receipt would kill him and his bank account if he fell and broke anything in the process. He was too lost in his own thoughts and anxieties to notice when the woman came up to him. 

He recalls her specifically saying that he should come to her with questions, not the other way around, but it's a complaint he's not going to voice.

“Yeah.” he answers, because what else is he supposed to say? Is this normal here? Should he say something more?

“Who's the lucky girl then?” She asks, smiling, then looks him up and down and adds, “Or guy?” 

He chuckles before he can stop himeslf in an attempt to release some of the tension, because he feels like he would soon snap in half otherwise.

“Yeah, uhm-” it's alright Dan, she's trying and you're a grown man looking for a ring (holy shit), you can do this, “a guy. I mean, my boyfriend. Partner. We've been- together for 16 years, actually.”

“Oh, it's about time to lock it down then, right?” Her smile turns into something a tad bit more genuine, easier somehow, and the small change is kind of reassuring.

“Yeah, probably.” Dan exhales. It's okay, he's probably not the first gay man to walk in here. He's fine. He doesn't know what he's doing but he's fine.

“What's his name, if I may ask?” 

“Oh, it's- he's Phil. Called Phil.”

The woman laughs a little and Dan wants to hide in a hole somewhere. But he supposes it could have been worse.

“Let's find something special for that Phil of yours, hm?”

She begins to show him an array of rings, some of which he already looked at and some of which he didn't even glance at that turned out to be actually pretty good. As far as customer-service goes, the woman is lovely – she listens to his questions and suggestions and shows him rings that actually fit his descriptions. She even pulls a couple from under the desk, ones that aren't on display with price tags that scare him a little, but he still pretends to look at them as if he's actually entertaining the concept of buying a piece of metal at the cost of a car. 

It's when she shows him a tiny golden one with a red ribbon tied at the centre that a thought pops into his head, followed by a clear vision.

“Can you do custom etchings?”

Two days later, under the pretence of a quick errand to Tesco, he finds himself in the same shop and talking to the same woman, now with much more ease.

She recognizes him instantly and her eyes light up as she greets him — “Mr. Howell!” — and immediately disappears into a door behind her. She comes back with a small pouch and lays the ring on the counter before him.

“It's-”

“Perfect?” She supplies, wearing a smile much more sincere than the one he first saw her with. It almost reaches her eyes. Suits her.

“Yeah.” Dan chuckles and gives her a small smile in return. He gently picks the ring up and examines it under the light, extremely careful as to not drop it or dirty it too much with his sweaty fingers.

It's actually- just how he envisioned it. The thought sounds cringe in his head, but it's true.

He has to choose a box, and he adheres to his and his aesthetics only because he can have at least that, so he asks for all the velvety black ones they have. A heart shape feels too cliché and romantic for them, a circle or oval one for some reason screams luxury that they definitely do not have, and Dan feels a little silly when he chooses the rectangular one. It's truly the most basic option, but he does pay attention for the cushions to match the outside and for the edges to be rounded just how he likes them. 

Phil will have the ring. Dan can at least have the box. And if Phil loves him enough, he will appreciate his boyfriend's style and choice.

The woman winks at him as she puts in the employee promo code, and he smiles in return, but the price still hurts. At least it's as much as a car could cost.

He thanks her twice before he leaves, heart hammering in his chest, and through the thick cloud of multiple, impossible to name emotions he’s currently feeling, there pierces a simple but crucial realisation:

Holy fuck I just bought an engagement ring.

Life goes as it always does when there's a new project around – excitement about new possibilities and things to try thrumming under their skin. Barely a couple of months after their hard launch and Dan thinks- no, knows he has never felt this free before.

No pretending to be straight. No ‘friendship’ act to put up for the audience. Less closing curtains during the day when they kiss, less awkward encounters and turning people down with lies, and more of just general openness. Freedom that Dan hadn’t let himself even dream of experiencing during all these years and now he just… has it. He holds it firmly in his hand as if it weighs nothing, determined to never let go, and allowing himself to grasp it is the best decision he has ever made.

Christmas goes by and it’s lovely, because he spends it with Phil and his family and they’re always lovely and fun to be around, but it’s also draining. When they come back they spend three consecutive days in just their pyjamas, eating only takeout and doing lots of gaming in different rooms, you know, for enrichment. Then, after New Year’s they go out for a date again, and then they go back home and have sweet sex after, and the next day as well and life is amazing.

It’s so good, actually, that Dan pushes the thought of the ring into the back of his brain as much as he can.

He’s not having second thoughts, no – it's just that…

He supposes he's scared.

It's weird, because the thought of Phil firmly saying 'no' hasn't really crossed his mind. Maybe there was sometimes a vague idea of it, some muffled sounds of a scene like that playing out in his head, but he never pondered on it, because it sounded ridiculous. According to every single one of Phil's own mentions of marriage or his reactions to the topic, the man will be more than pleased to have Dan on one knee with a box in hand. After the hard launch it has become even clearer, with all the laughs and hand twitches at every joke. No, Dan isn't worried of Phil declining.

It's just that all of those recent moments were already perfect in and of itself, and forcing a proposal into any of them felt inappropriate. But every single moment he spent out with Phil, without being scared of being watched or found out, felt perfect already, so it was hard to find the right moment, and then Dan just got scared.

Maybe it's the remnants of his fear of commitment. Maybe he's scared he will fuck up the speech. Maybe it's that he denied Phil this for so long that Dan is terrified he will be mad at him for suddenly changing his mind after 16 years.

However what Dan has learned, is that most of his fears don't have a lot in common with reality when it comes to Phil. And the only way to find out is to fuck around, once and for all.

February 2026

It's a particularly lazy day. No recordings, no hang outs, no plans. They slept in, stayed in bed, acted on some morning horny thoughts, played Mario Kart, ordered take-out and paired it with some cheap wine. Pretty much the perfect day for Dan and Phil so far.

Right now they're laying on their couch, Dan's legs on Phil's lap, while Phil plays something on his Switch and Dan scrolls reels. At least he's pretending to, because his thumb hasn't actually moved for a good couple of minutes now.

"Me and Phil always have the January Talk, where we discuss what projects we will be doing this year-"

His own words echoed through his head after a reel with this exact clip in it, its description saying:

do you guys think they've had it yet??

He quickly scrolled through it, and now a Formula 1 edit with Doechii's "Alter Ego" loops in the background. Absentmindedly, he circles the rim of his almost empty wine glass with his finger, and thinks he's actually glad he decided to put his airpods on.

January is over and they completely forgot about it.

The entire month had been purely too perfect to even try to busy their heads with any plans for the future, because the future they have always dreamt of is right there.

This evening does seem like a good moment to bring it up, to catch up with their yearly tradition.

But, as Dan thinks about it, it actually brings another opportunity along.

"We haven't had the January talk, remember?" He starts, aiming for what he hopes is nonchalance.

"Oh shit, yeah," Phil responds looking up from his Switch, "And January is already gone."

"Yeah." Dan responds and watches Phil click a bunch of buttons to then turn off the console completely, putting it down beside him.

"Do you have anything in mind?" Phil asks simply, completely oblivious to Dan's inner turmoil. Perhaps he did, at some point, have some ideas about this year, maybe some plans or… or whatever, who cares, but it doesn't really matter now. There is only one thing that has been plaguing his mind for months now. One goal, actually.

"Yeah, uh," what is he even supposed to say? God, just think of something, this isn't- "Just wait a second, okay?"

Dan swiftly gets up and almost runs for the stairs, promptly ignoring Phil's confused but curious expression. He makes a point of not looking back, lest seeing Phil's face completely crumples his resolve, and instead focuses on his steps and not tripping over his own feet.

The stairs creek under his weight as he makes his way up, heading for his closet.

He fumbles with multiple pieces of clothing he doesn't care for at the moment, trying to reach with his hand further back, where all the old, barely used clothes hang. They're the ones that plague every closet and wardrobe, ones that he hasn't worn for years but still feels too attached to to give away.

His eyes finally catch a glimpse of blue fabric and he grabs onto it before it disappears between every other shameful purchase he has hidden back there. He pulls onto it, trying to yank it towards himself so that he has more room to work with and accidentally exerts tad too much force, as it promptly slips from its hanger, catches on another ugly vest and pulls it down along to create a small pile on the floor. He has half a mind to mumble a nervous "Fuck!" into the air before his hand is back on the blue jacket.

Also, blue? When has anyone seen him wear fucking blue?

He fumbles with the stupid extra flaps around its sleeves and shoulders until he reaches the inner pocket and feels soft velvet under his fingers. He grabs onto the box and gently takes it out.

There's a second where time stops, and he develops some sort of tunnel vision that lets him see the box and the box only, while the rest of the room disappears. A part of him feels like it's not real, like it can't be real. Yes he bought it two months ago himself, he has looked at it multiple times but the mere fact that it exists it- it hits him then.

He's actually going to propose to Phil.

The moment ends as quickly as it began and he puts the box into the pocket of his sweatpants — oh god what if he sees it this definitely pokes out what if he realises what if it falls out what— and immediately moves it into his back pocket. Good design, these sweatpants have, truly. The universe works in his small favour this one time.

Then he tries to stand up from the tiny mess he has made on the floor, and his foot, already tangled in one of the sleeves, catches on a pair of shoes just to his left, and they pull a pair of sandals along and-

He quickly exits the closet and closes the door behind him. This will be a problem for future Dan to deal with.

He takes a deep breath, which does nothing to calm his nerves (worth a try, right?) and walks back down. His palms are sweaty as hell as he grabs onto the railing, the possibility of falling down not so abstract at the moment, and he tries to angle his body in a way that doesn't show the rectangular bulge on his ass.

"What are you doing?" Phil asks when he sees him, a curious, and a little amused, expression on his face.

Where does Dan even begin explaining?

He has thought about a speech. Multiple speeches actually, even wrote some down but then felt so humiliated when faced with what he had just done that he deleted them all. This scene has played out in his head so many times, under so many different circumstances, that he has some of those scenarios memorised to every last word. But they were all imaginary, floating around in his head and happening in a fantasy world where each and every beautifully articulated word and phrase comes to him naturally and he speaks them with the grace of a prince.

Here, though, in the real world, it's not so simple. And any speeches he had been preparing? Gone from his head, completely.

He opens his mouth but no sounds come out.

Phil raises his eyebrows expectantly, a small smile dancing on his lips.

Fuck it, Dan thinks as he approaches the couch, he's either jumping into it headfirst or not starting at all.

"Have I ever-" No, scratch that, fuck. Deep breaths, Howell. "You make me so happy, Phil, I- I don't think I tell you that enough."

"Okay? I know that Dan, you don't have to tell me." Phil responds, eyes kind but confused, but he just doesn't get it. How can he, if he doesn't know yet?

"Yes, but- but it's not just that." Dan feels kind of awkward where he stands, so he takes a few more steps towards Phil, stopping only when the tip of his left slipper makes contact with Phil's calf. He tries his best to not fidget with his hands, "You- You genuinely saved my life when we met. Improved it so much I can't even properly put it into words, I actually don't think I would still be here if it weren't for you, honestly, and I know what you're gonna say!" he raises a finger when he sees Phil trying to speak, "but I wouldn't grow so much if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be who I am if it weren't for you, I wouldn't even try to live and get better in the first place. Fuck Youtube and all of that crap, it could all disappear tomorrow and I'd still be the happiest person on this planet because I have you, and that's all I'll ever need in life."

He's rambling, isn't he? Do his words even make any sense?

Throughout his rant, Phil managed to sit up straighter on the couch, his Switch abandoned somewhere between the cushions. Phil is looking up at him, and Dan tries to find reassurance in those beautiful blue eyes he adores so much.

"Dan," Phil starts cautiously, as it seems he's finally picking up that something is happening, "Where are you going with this?"

"I'm going- I want to say that," Dan hears his voice shake and wills it to work for just a little longer, "You make me be the- the best version of myself, one that I would never dream of becoming before you came, and Phil, god, you just make my life so much better by just being in it every day, nobody else could ever make me as happy to be alive as you do."

His hands are sweaty as he reaches for the box and his legs threaten to give out but he manages to successfully get on one knee all sweet and cliché, and he sees something awaken in Phil's eyes. He holds the box out in front of him, still closed.

"Dan, what-"

"I know I'm a mess and I keep changing my mind about everything," he interjects, because if he lets Phil speak now he might never finish this how he wants to, "but it's you who makes me feel safe to do so over and over again and-" Dan feels his eyes burn a little but he ignores the sensation to the best of his abilities as he finally opens the velvety case and speaks aloud the phrase he has been fearing for most of his adult life.

The difference now is, he's not scared of it anymore.

"Just please, will you marry me?"

Phil's mouth hangs slightly agape as his gaze jumps between Dan and the box until finally settling on the ring.

It's a shiny, silver band with a matt strip adorned by black lines going through the middle and finished off with neatly cut, angled edges. It's objectively nice, but the heart of it is hidden on the inner walls.

They're also shiny and silver, although the seller tried to tempt him with other colours, but what is special is the etching. Inspired by the golden ring with a ribbon Dan saw, through the entirety of the inner side there runs a slim red line that's meant to portray a string, curling at a bunch of different points until it ties into a small heart at the end. For its size, it's all made really well, the colour never looking pale or bleeding out of the edges. Between where the string begins and ends there's an equally tiny inscription:

P+D

Phil covers his lips with his hand after a few, excruciating seconds that feel like eternity, during which he still doesn't say anything, and Dan is becoming a little scared he's got it all wrong.

What if the innuendos he thought he picked up on weren't innuendos at all? What if he interpreted all of the jokes wrong? The little hand twitches, the laughs he thought tried to be nonchalant- because he can read Phil like a book, he knows how he usually laughs, but what if so much time has passed since Dan first declared his aversion to marriage that Phil also changed his mind? Maybe he's just processing right now, or maybe he actually doesn't want to marry Dan anymore which is fine, but what if he gets angry that Dan denied him-

"Really?" Is what Phil says, his voice small and vulnerable.

Dan's heart skips a beat.

"Yeah," he replies, becoming more unsure of himself with every passing second. Is the question confirmation? Is it a 'yes'? Is it mocking?

Phil's eyes glisten in the warm light of their living room lamp, and he nods once, before putting his hand down and finally answering:

"Yes."

"Yes?" Dan repeats, because, at this point, this might very well just be his brain making him hear stuff that isn't actually there.

Phil chuckles and breaks into a smile, "Yes. Yes, I will marry you Dan."

Air escapes Dan's lungs all at once and he smiles in return, a nervous and slightly broken sound escaping his mouth.

"Oh- Oh god, okay, wait-" Dan scrambles to reach for one of Phil's hands and put the ring on when-

"Wait!" Phil exclaims and Dan's entire body stills, terrified that Phil is about to take his words back, change his mind, get up and run- "Let me see it up close."

Dan laughs, though it comes out more like a sob, and gestures for Phil to take the ring out. Phil gently grabs it between his thumb and index finger and brings it closer to his face, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. He slowly turns it around and looks at it with so much awe in his eyes Dan hopes he isn't imagining things.

"Do you like it?" Dan asks.

"I- God, I love it." Phil's smile somehow gets even bigger as his eyes skim over the details.

"So I- I actually- Uhm, you know how you always go about that entire thing with the red string theory and it connecting us and all so- so I thought it would fit-"

Dan doesn't get to finish his pathetic attempt at a sentence because suddenly Phil's lips are on his and he forgets what he even wanted to say. A tear slides down his cheek, and his thoughts jumble together until they sound like static in his head as Phil's tongue enters Dan's eager mouth. The kiss is hungry and hot, and Dan uses it as a way to get rid of the remaining tension and stress of the past two months, which Phil happily helps him with — he grabs Dan by his collar and pull him into his lap, and all Dan can manage to think of is to blindly reach out for the ring to take it out of Phil's hand and slides it onto his finger.

It fits.

Their kiss keeps being interrupted by one of them uncontrollably grinning while the other chases their lips and it's messy but also amazing and the best feeling Dan has ever experienced in his entire life. And at some point he just starts to laugh, because he can't contain the emotions in any longer.

He's just so- so happy.

He proposed. He finally did it, and Phil said 'yes'.

Phil follows suit and breaks into a little fit of giggles of his own. Dan, still chuckling, lets his head fall down and rest on Phil's shoulder. It still feels like his speech didn't even scratch the surface of the joy he's currently experiencing.

"When?" Phil asks once he calms down a little.

"When what?" Dan replies, because the question might mean a million things in this context.

"Well, when did you- buy the ring? Change your mind? Decided to propose? Everything, really."

"This caused me so much stress and now you want me to relive it? Is that how you're paying me back for this?" Phil chuckles in response and Dan is glad their current position hides the grin that spreads on his face. At the same time, he kind of hates he can't see Phil's expression, so he lifts his head to look his partner in the eyes instead. "The change happened gradually, I guess. There was just this- this growing pile of feelings in the back of my mind and I couldn't ignore it forever even if I wanted to," Phil nods, a smile plastered on his face the entire time Dan speaks, "and for the ring I- well, I was thinking about it for a long time but I finally bought it at the beginning of December," he chuckles as he recalls how awkward he had felt, "and, god, you have no idea how stressful walking into the jewellery store was."

"So…" Phil begins, a teasing look on his face, "How much was it?"

"Phil!" Dan backs away, shocked, "You don't ask a gentleman things like that!"

"'Gentleman' huh, sure." Phil grins.

"I hate you. I'm actually beginning to regret this whole thing."

"Well, you're not getting rid of your fiancé now, idiot." Phil accentuates the word and Dan's stomach does a flip. Or maybe two. As if Phil knows what the word does to Dan, he says it again, "Fiancé. I like the sound of that."

"Me too." Dan mumbles his thought aloud before he can stop himself, barely audible.

Phil grins mischievously, and Dan already knows he heard it. The bastard.

"Repeat that?"

Dan doesn't respond with words, instead trapping Phil's lips in another passionate kiss.

He's so glad he changed his mind.

April 2010

The clock reads 2:31AM when Dan checks his phone. It's been raining the whole day in Manchester and he can hear heavy droplets hitting the windowsill outside, as he feels a hand gently combing through his slowly unravelling curls. Phil's straightener is shit.

"Do you think you'll ever get married?" The question comes out of nowhere, but Dan is slowly learning that Phil just does that, sometimes. He thinks it's endearing and sees it as yet another reason to never leave this place and this boy.

Dan tenses a little despite himself and Phil seems to pick up on it. His hand moves from Dan's hair to the back of his neck and slowly strokes the skin there until Dan relaxes again.

Dan's first reaction is to say "No, never." but he tries to give the question a little bit more thought. Usually he would dismiss it right away, but it's that time of the night during a sleepover when you feel a little drunk, the exhaustion makes it hard to think straight, and the darkness creates a sense of anonymity, so you let yourself ponder things you would never consider during the day.

"I don't know." Is what Dan settles on. Though he quickly realises it's a pretty shit answer, and attempts to continue, "I feel like my life is too fucked up for that sort of thing to ever happen. I'm too fucked up, too."

He can't see Phil's immediate reaction from where he rests his head and back on Phil's chest, and Dan immediately feels insecure with his words. He knows Phil doesn't like when he talks about himself this way, self-hatred masked as objectivity and softened by his passive tone, but as easy as it is to spill your guts out at this hour, it's twice as hard to stop that from happening. He continues before he can think better of it, "It also scares me, I suppose. because you're bound to this one person forever, right, and what if you regret it someday? What if they turn out not to be who you thought they were? And what happens when they get bored of you?"

It's easier to admit this sort of thing when he can pretend he's talking to the dark room in front of him instead of Phil.

Phil hums. The vibrations pass through the thin t-shirt he borrowed from Phil and spread into Dan's chest. It's a nice sensation. A soothing one.

"I think if you'd ever want to marry someone you wouldn't have those thoughts about them."

It's a simple statement. A banal answer that Dan would despise hearing in any other scenario, but it sounds surprisingly thoughtful coming from Phil. It's not said like a counter-argument to prove Dan wrong with that condescending tone of voice he's so used to hearing, but more like a general observation.

"You don't know my mind," Dan responds, because as much as he appreciates Phil's point of view he doesn't entirely believe it.

"And I don't think anyone could get bored of you," Phil continues, and Dan can't help the bitter chuckle from escaping him. He opens his mouth to speak, but gets cut off by a quieter, softer admission, "I won't."

Dan lets a small smile appear on his lips, both because Phil won't see it and because... it's just cute. Phil sounds so determined — it's nothing but endearing, really. It's a sweet sentiment to have, and it does make something in his stomach flutter, but he takes it for what it is — a simple compliment. It isn't actually tethered to reality in any way, because Phil can't possibly know that now, and Dan knows how it usually goes with him. He's either too much or not enough, and people move on. They always do.

"You don't know that," he whispers, and it comes out much more sad and vulnerable than he intended it to.

Phil surprises him by flipping their position in a way that lets him press a soft kiss to Dan's chapped lips. Dan melts against it immediately.

"You don't either."

Dan lets him have it, and they leave it at that. Phil doesn't let him entertain the worry too long anyway when he hits him with another weird question right after that makes Dan curse and giggle into Phil's shoulder.

Maybe he's right. Neither of them can know it for sure, and Dan, no matter how deeply he believes he's in the right here, decides to give Phil the benefit of the doubt. Yet again he finds himself to trust Phil's words.

In the end, that's what love is really about, isn't it?