Chapter Text
That night was one of the best nights of Dan’s life. He didn’t think he had ever laughed harder, smiled wider. It was like a new kind of emotion was blossoming in his chest, a new feeling, and this wonderful thing- it made him feel alive again. More permanently.
Because now, it wasn’t just the moments he spent with Phil, the conversations he carried that made him feel alive.
This wasn’t like before.
No, now these emotions would carry over for Dan. They would last with him throughout the rest of the night, the day, the week.
They didn’t just disappear.
The feeling in his chest now grounded him. It gave him an anchor in his wild storm of a mind. It let him know that someone cared about him, about how he was, about what happened in his day. It reminded him that Phil was always just a phone call away if things got bad again, it implied that he would always be there for the other boy. At least for now, before Dan could manage to screw it up.
But, most importantly, it reminded him that he wasn’t alone anymore. That he did have at least one person out there, vouching for him to finish the race that never seemed to end. It told him to keep going, to not stop, to live just a little bit instead of only survive.
And Dan had to say- he definitely liked this new feeling. Liked it a hell of a lot.
So when the next time Dan’s father decided to have another talk and Dan wanted nothing more to just stop existing , things became marginally easier because of Phil and the feeling he brought with him. The fear clamped around his brain subsided, the walls around him breaking as always, yet slower this time. It wasn’t a shattering, one second effect, if-you-had-blinked-you-would-have-missed-it kind of thing. It was slow, careful. Once crack in the glass at a time, spiraling outward like a spiderweb. Much more calm than the terrorizing impression his father had always made like a hammer full force.
His thoughts were the glass barricade and Phil was the diamonds lodged between. Breaking peacefully, yet breaking just the same.
And Dan thought, how did he even survive before? How did he function? How did he make it this long in the unfair fight against himself?
He didn’t have an answer, not one that made sense anyways.
Phil had become Dan’s anchor, his light in the sea of dark so to speak. And when Dan felt exhausted from everything around him, he was happy to go to Phil. He didn't have to pretend around Phil, never had to keep up his facade of cheerfulness, never had to be afraid to be himself.
Yet, that didn't mean there weren’t things that Dan hid from Phil. Hell, there were far too many to count. But these things were for his own protection, Phil’s own needs. If the blue-eyed boy had found out what goes on behind the closed doors of his house, Dan was sure he would never see Phil again. It was safer for him not to know, it gave him less of a chance of them getting caught and Phil getting hurt. Not that they were doing anything, but Dan, knowing his father completely, wouldn't hesitate at the chance to do something to hurt him. And if he had a cover up reason? Well, there was no stopping the vile man.
All of Dan’s secrets were a little hard to hide from Phil. He couldn't just explain the fact why he constantly wore his sweatshirt no matter where they were. He couldn’t say exactly why he didn’t want to go swimming when Phil had offered to go, forcing him to make the meek protests of “But it’s too cold” even though it was in an indoor pool.
He had gotten good at lying, despite his slip-ups. Lying and hiding, that was all he ever seemed to do. He could make up excuses on the spot or wiggle his way out of awkward questions at any time.
He wasn’t sure if Phil had ever noticed, seen the way he always kept his sleeves pulled down and his collar pushed up. He never asked why he always flinched when a hand was coming towards him or why he would constantly look over his shoulder to check if anyone was there. He just let it be, and was there for Dan when he needed him.
And that was why Dan liked Phil. Liked him a whole lot. Because Phil didn’t ask questions if Dan said no. Phil knew when to stop, when to drop it. And again, Dan wondered how he had survived without him before. All he knew for sure was that he was going to try to keep him in his life as long as possible.
It had been a good day for Dan when Phil had called. He had had no surprise visits from his father and his old wounds were pretty much healed, something he was very grateful for. When the other boy had called, it had put a now more familiar smile on his face.
“What’s up Danny boy?” Were the first words out of his mouth.
“Philllllll,” Dan groaned. “What did I say?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll get straight to the point. So I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night? My parents have been literally dying to meet you and they haven't stopped bugging me about inviting you over since. So I thought, why not give the people what they want?”
Dan’s heart turned over in his chest. Phil had told about him to his parents? And they wanted to meet him? “Tomorrow night?” he echoed, his mind blanking out.
“Yeah, we’re making pasta. Is six okay?”
“Six?” Dan echoed again, time was moving much too fast for him.
He made a vague attempt to sit down for a moment and understand it all. Phil had told his parents about him (why wouldn't he?) and now they wanted to see him?
He couldn’t imagine Phil sitting down at a kitchen table, his mum and dad listening intently to what their son was saying as he told them about how he had met the prince.
And now Dan realized that they probably would hate him, just as Phil had when he met him. He would walk in and they would glare at him until every sin his father had committed would become his own. They would ask the wrong questions too, questions Dan couldn’t answer, questions Dan couldn’t even think about without having to excuse himself.
Why, oh why had Phil thought this was a good idea? Because now, Dan couldn’t say no, he couldn’t just refuse because that would be unfair to Phil. If he refused or said he was busy, Phil would just ask for another day, and Dan couldn’t put it off forever. If he flat out said no Phil might think that there is something wrong with him and Dan sure as hell didn’t want that. He wanted to keep the only friendship he had intact, thank you.
Yet again, he didn’t want to say yes. He didn’t want to have to suffer through hours of torturous glares. He already got enough of those for a lifetime. So Dan was stuck. Stuck in a situation where both outcomes would be bad, and he had no idea what to do.
“Yeah, six. Do you have something planned?” Phil’s voice cut back into his thoughts.
Now, Dan was panicking. The ever present yes or no question was there and he didn’t want to ask to see or think about it because then that would be rude. So he was trapped even more and his thoughts were spiraling down rapidly fast.
You can’t lie. One side of him told him, annoyingly persistent.
But you do it all the time? Why would this be any different? The otherside pointed out, having a point. He was a good liar after all that he had been through.
It would be so easy, to just say yes, he did have something planned and he couldn’t talk right now and that “maybe we should try next week?”. He could totally provide excuses for the next couple of months, seemingly convincing ones too, and roll with it until Phil stopped asking.
It was so easy to lie for Dan, it was actually kind of scary. He could probably do it in his sleep.
But, this was Phil, Dan was talking to. This was the Phil that had done things for him full heartedly, this was his first real friend in a while, this was the guy that respected his privacy and didn't ask questions. This was Phil who made him feel safe.
And Dan so didn't want to lie to him.
Dan guessed his mind was made up from the start.
“No, I don’t. Six is perfect and pasta sounds amazing.” He said, a slight grin creeping onto his face because hey, even if the parents were trying to murder him with their minds, he would at least get to spend some time with Phil right?
“Yay! Well, I’ve got to go- mum’s yelling at me to do something,” The distant shouting in the receiver proved his sentence true.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dan.” The brown haired boy could hear the smile in the others voice.
He couldn’t help but smile back. “See you.” he said before the line went dead, leaving Dan to wonder by himself how exactly he was going to pull this off.
Needless to say, Dan was more than a little bit nervous at four pm the next evening. His thoughts were a mess, his mind a trainwreck as he tried to prepare to meet his only friend’s parents.
His closet was a mess, black items of clothing strewn about on the floor.
He didn't want to be too proper and yet not too casual either. Everything he was throwing out was too depressing for him, all black outfits that would make Phil’s parents think he smoked weed and just got back from beating up innocent children. As if Dan could throw a punch. It wasn't like the various bruises from his father helped either.
He sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, feeling like a stereotypical teenage girl. He literally had nothing to wear.
He half debated calling Phil up to ask him, wondering if it was worth losing his dignity just to wear the right clothing. He knew that Phil would be in something that reflected his personality nicely, making Dan wonder if he should just wear all black to reflect the color of his soul.
It wasn’t a bad idea. After all, that was pretty much his entire closet.
After some long minutes of searching through the mass of clothing, Dan finally decided on a black button down shirt and some dark blue (not black!) skinny jeans before going to straighten his hair.
He almost wished that he had some kind of parenting advice on this. Too bad he didn’t have anyone to go to. Although, he supposed, he could go to Connor.
Yet, would that be any less pathetic than calling Phil? Probably not.
So, instead, the prince left it up to himself and his own judgement to deem him presentable. About an hour and a half later, he finally had.
If Dan thought he couldn’t get anymore nervous tonight, he was wrong. The Dan Howell standing on Phil’s doorstep had faded out of existence, replaced with a bundle of nerves that he couldn’t even explain. It’s not like he was going on a date for god’s sake.
And yet, there he is, on the verge of what maybe was a panic attack because he was meeting his friend’s parents (parents!!). He shifts the flowers, yellow tulips, around in his hand.
Was this too much? He wondered. Did I go too far?
They were for Phil’s mum, of course. If there was one thing that Dan did remember about his own mum it was the fact that she had loved flowers, telling little eight year old Dan that ‘If you ever want to get on a woman's good side, flowers will do the trick.’ And Dan had thought, why not give it a go? But no matter what he gave Phil’s parents one thought stuck with him.
What if they don’t like you, for you?
It had been playing in his mind like a broken record since Phil had called. He just couldn’t get it to shut up.
There was a million and one ways how the night could go wrong and Dan’s been through all of them in his head, his mind wrapping and revolving around them. He just wanted to get this right. Was that too much to ask?
He smoothed out his shirt for the countless time and cleared his dry throat, a feeble attempt to calm the storm of butterflies in his stomach. Except these were less like butterflies and more like bees. They stung. He swallowed hard, summoning the courage to ring the bell.
The clock read six o'clock, sharp.
He pretended not to notice how badly his hand is shaking as he reached for the chime, moving the flowers in his sweaty hand once again. And before he knew it, he had done it, the sound had rung out and the show had begun.