Chapter Text
for the umpteenth time today, dan swears the butterflies in his tummy are going to erupt and he's going to throw up. granted, he's not eaten nearly enough to make that a viable possibility, but that's never stopped him before. but he's on a train, so hurling is probably not ideal anyway.
his leg shakes, his brow sweats, and his hands are so fidgety he wishes he took up like.. crocheting or something, just to give them something to do other than pick at his skin.
ugh. he really doesn't want to meet phil, the amazingphil, with bleeding cuticles. what would he say? dan, why does it look like a giraffe mistook your fingers for branches?
his self-decided accurate impression of phil in his head makes him laugh out loud, and, despite only one person looking up with the slightest eyebrow raise, he's so embarrassed he ducks his head and goes back to staring out the window.
phil has that effect on him, though, since the beginning in fact. always able to make him smile and laugh with just simple words, sometimes even just looks. an eyebrow raise and he's on the floor giggling, both eyebrows arched high up and pupils wide with shock and he's grinning so hard he feels his cheeks hurting.
even now, months after actually befriending phil, after twitter dm's and skype calls where they turned late evenings into early mornings, watching his videos back makes him smile, even though there's several he can recite word for word (but that is something that he will never admit out loud).
his gaze is lost as he stares at the drab weather outside the train. the weather seems as confused (is it going to storm? just overcast? a drizzle, perhaps? is it going to suddenly be sunny? does he even remember what the sun looks like? well, yes, he knows that because the sun looks like phil.) as his mood, but he knows he's far more excited than anything else, to a point where even the bundle of nerves that settled on top of his heart two weeks ago when he booked the ticket can't compete with it. the butterflies were a new addition though, that only happened when he got on the train. (though, they are quickly consuming his life.)
he smiles despite this.
phil had been so elated - absolutely radiant - when he booked his ticket, and his excitement was, unfortunately, infectious - to a point where dan's skin had been buzzing like he was tipsy. though he did receive some chiding for waiting so damn long to book ("dan you said you were going to book this last month!"), phil was smiling like an idiot the entire time (as he's sure he himself also was, but phil's smile was radiant and his own most certainly wasn't), so it was really hard to take him seriously.
"i can't believe you're going to be here in two weeks!" phil announced for the seventh time that conversation.
"thirteen days," dan corrected, but with a gleeful laugh (for the seventh time as well).
"are you going to correct me every time?"
"are you ever going to get it right?"
"teeechnically, if you count today, it is fourteen days. so technically, i'm correct and you're just being a hater to that," phil stuck his tongue out childishly.
"well teeechnically," he mimicked, "today has already started so you can't count it as a full day. and i'll see you in the morning on the nineteenth, so that's not a full day either, so it's thirteen days,"
phil's face scrunched up and then he had pouted. "you're no fun, howell."
dan had just laughed.
the screeching halt of the train snaps his head up now, and he blinks a couple times before his pulse skyrockets (not for the first time this ride). holy shit. holy shit they're here, holy shit it's almost time. holy shit.
in his scramble to gather his things (he's going to be here for two whole days! he needs stuff, okay!) and simultaneously stand up, he accidentally elbows a man who looks so unimpressed that he flinches and apologises more than anyone has ever apologised for this, ever.
he's such an idiot.
why does phil even want to hang out with him.
he flinches again, this time at the spiral he knows he'll fall down if he lets himself ask that. determined to not ruin at least the first ten minutes with AmazingPhil in real life, he straightens his back and grips his luggage so tight he goes white-knuckled. at least this way, the pressure in his hand is something to focus on besides his racing mind and clammy palms.
when he finally, finally steps off the stuffy train into the cool october air, the first thing dan feels is relief.
alright, he thinks, so this is a real place. this isn't a joke anymore. well, it never was (for him, anyway), but it for real isn't a joke anymore. phil didn't just ask him to come to a platform that ended up not being real. like in harry potter or something. this is a good start.
while he ponders his almost-harry potter life, so lost in thought he isn't moving like an absolute twat, and the train is gone and people are throwing him slightly odd and mildly annoyed glances (what else is new), he hears it. a soft gasp. it shouldn't be audible among the thrum of the crowd, really, but the voice feels all too familiar and all too strange at the same time.
his head shoots up, and the world, he swears, goes black and white, except for..
"phil." he feels the name on his lips, but he can't hear himself say it. it's so soft, so quiet, it gets lost in the wind. but he knows phil sees him (phil's staring), and he sees phil (dan's staring back), and they're both staring at each other, and the mildly annoyed but mostly not caring crowd really, really doesn't matter.
he wants to walk towards him. he wants to run and tackle him. he wants to hug him. he wants to do so much, and they both just stand there and stare at each other.
he swears everything else is a gaussian blur, except phil. perfect phil lester, with his dorky plaid flannel (how many of these does he even own?) and too tight skinny jeans (matching his own, to be fair), and raven hair that looks so perfect, oddly not moving a single bit in-
oh my god, phil lester wears a wig.
it's this thought that snaps him out of his trance, and his legs finally start moving. phil starts at the same time as him, and when they crash, they're both mildly out of breath with buzzing skin, and laughing already, despite a lack of jokes. why is it always so easy with him?
he's both taller and shorter in person than dan imagined, and boy did he imagine a lot. he's tall, but slouches. they have matching slouches, to be fair, but phil's carries a level of confidence dan is jealous of, and even if dan stood up straight (he won't, fuck posture), he thinks phil would still have a good couple inches on him.
"...hi," phil smiles, bright and goofy, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"you're real." dan blurts out, then blushes. great first impression, howell.
phil just laughs, loud and joyous. "as far as i know," he says, "i'm real. you're real too."
"last i checked, anyway," this feels so easy. the pressure on his heart has almost completely vanished, replaced now with so much excitement and a racing heart that he worries it's going to pop out of his chest entirely.
neither can stop smiling.
"can i- can i hug you?"
dan blushes again, but nods wordlessly. he's afraid, of so many things, but he wants a hug too, if for nothing else than to make sure phil's not some hologram or something.
phil's arms envelop him in the best hug he thinks he's ever had, and the breathy, content sigh that escapes his lips are matched by phil's. he presses his face into his chest, feels phil's face against his hair, and listens to the heartbeat he hears (is it fast? is phil as nervous as he is?) while he winds his arms around the older man's back, locking them in place.
despite the crowd, they stay like that for several minutes, both reluctant to let go.
phil's the first one to pull back, and even then it's just enough to be able to speak without getting a mouthful of hair that's straightened within an inch of its life. he says something that dan can't quite hear, and when dan mumbles, "can't hear you, dork," into phil's chest, he feels, rather than hears, phil's chuckle, vibrating in such a comforting way, even though that makes virtually no sense.
"..missed you," phil's mouth is at his ear now, and dan shivers before he can try to suppress it.
"oh, are you cold?" phil asks, not moving from where he's breathing lightly on dan's ear.
dan nods, though it's a lie. he's warmer than he's been in months, possibly years. but that's too embarrassing to admit to someone you've met in person for the first time.
"d'you wanna go somewhere? that's.. inside, maybe?"
dan thinks about this for a minute (he doesn't want to move, he doesn't ever want to move), then nods again, not trusting his voice, and despite his silent declaration that he won't ever leave phil's arms.
phil pulls back to untangle them, and dan almost voices a whine at the lack of warmth, instead just smiling up to phil, who's already smiling at him. his tummy is still chock-full of butterflies, but he's unable to tear his gaze away.
"i missed you too,"
(the butterflies don't stop until they're high on the manchester eye and phil's kissing dan and dan's never felt this okay in his life.)