Work Text:
Phil's shin hurts from banging into the costuming booth and his pride hurts from the sharp voiced words the woman manning it through at him and his dignity hurts from Dan and Anthony both laughing at him.
They don't mean it badly, Phil knows. Dan laughs at Phil's clumsiness on an almost daily basis, and Phil's never slow to return the favor.
But there were people watching and he messed up all the clothing on the rack and now he's got this stupid shirt on and he doesn't even know why he put his skates on first, he was just excited, excited he talked Dan into this, excited to hang out with their friend -
And he still can be, he tells himself.
*
The woman applying the glitter to his face keeps up a steady, accented chatter as she narrates what she's doing. He feels a buzz of pride at how nice this is going to look.
Dan's already gone one done, black and silver and beautiful against his skin. They can take a picture together, Phil thinks - something side by side, post it on instagram.
It's always a good night when they can post a picture together. When there's a reason, an occasion.
The woman taps his cheek with a manicured fingernail and pronounces herself done. He turns with a grin to see what Dan thinks, but Dan and Anthony aren't there anymore.
He stands on unsteady legs and roll-wobbles to the opening between the booths and the bigger skates area and looks around. He spots Dan and Anthony by the bar, a span of smooth wooden skating floor between them.
He's really not the best at this, but he can see them getting drinks and he isn't sure if they're coming back and standing here alone feels so strange. Indecision gives way to the insecurity of it, and he makes his way over to them.
"You left me," he says, trying to inject a world of teasing indignation into his voice and none of the real thing
Dan just laughs. It's that laugh he gets around people he's trying to impress, and it settles uneasily against Phil's skin. "Not actually attached at the hip, mate."
It's been awhile since he's seen this Dan, the one that wants to seem cool and casual and above everything. It's the version of Dan that often makes Phil feel small and just not quite enough.
*
So Phil does what any adult would do in a situation like this: represses it and gets a drink.
*
"That totally looks like you're groping me," Anthony says, laughing far too hard at the picture on his phone. "Man, I'm gonna tweet that, that cool?"
Phil's stomach tightens unpleasantly. He doesn't have a word for the feeling that sneaks up the back of his throat, makes it feel a little like burning.
No, he wants to say. Because I wouldn't do that, I don't do that.
But Anthony's already hitting tweet, because Anthony's not the kind of person that has to think five times before touching another man with a camera around. Anthony doesn't subject himself to this type of restriction and relief, navigating boundaries by staying far away from them.
*
Dan and Anthony both sail with ease around and around him, keeping up conversation with each other and teasing Phil for his slowness with each pass.
"Skate with me?" Phil finally asks, catching Dan alone.
"Sure," Dan says, and matches pace to Phil. He gives Phil a look and a smile and says, "This isn't bad. Thanks for pushing me."
"Yeah," Phil says, grinning because Dan really does look gorgeous with the light catching the sequins against his skin and the way he bows his head to look at the ground in front of him. "Dan-"
He's so close. Phil could just reach out and touch. He could wait for one of those moments when the lights are low and the spotlights are far away and squeeze Dan's hand. Tiny gestures of romance in the midst of a crowd are not alien to them, just reserved for special occasions.
But then Anthony skates up in front of them and he's got his phone out and he's talking in that slightly exaggerated camera voice.
Dan skates a little further away and Phil mourns a tiny moment lost.
*
He glances over two seconds before the photo gets snapped and what he sees almost knocks the breath from him.
Dan, so socially lubricated at the moment that he's fine putting his hand on Caspar's shoulder, grinning that doll-faced grin. He sees Caspar reach a hand up and casually ruffle Dan's hair, and Joe make some kind of lewd comment.
He thinks of Anthony making the joke about Phil groping him.
He thinks of this, how the world will see this, Dan touching Caspar.
He skates off on knees that aren't steady enough to accommodate the force behind the initial push. He'll surely fall, he thinks, but right now he's not sure he cares.
*
Dan skates up beside him. "What was that? You just took off?"
Phil shakes his head abruptly. "Not now," he says, and to his own ears he just feels tired.
Dan shrinks back. It's strange how after so many years, Phil can still cut him down with a harsh tone sometimes. Not always, but sometimes, and when he's drunk - well, that's usually one of those times.
"Fine," Dan mumbles, and skates away faster than Phil could catch even if he tried.
*
"It won't come off," Phil says, fighting the embarrassment to smile for Anthony's camera.
In the back of his mind he's thinking about how he doesn't want to spend time with another youtuber for at least a year. He's sick of cameras, sick of double and triple checking every look, sick of how it only matters with Dan-
Dan seems to have forgotten the strangeness earlier, at least. Two more drinks in and he seems as light as a feather in the moment. A distant part of Phil is actually happy that Dan seems to be enjoying himself, after how much Dan resisted coming.
But that part feels very distant right now, and the fucking skate still won't come off.
He tries to cling to the thought that he'll laugh about this tomorrow. But he's already said that three times today and his little inabilities - his failure with the tea, the collision on his skates, and now this - start to stack one on to of the other until it feels like nothing about him works the way it should, he can't do anything the way he's suppose to do.
He looks to Dan hoping that Dan will look back at him, hoping that Dan will see something in his face that makes Dan suddenly realize how not entirely alright Phil feels right now.
But Dan is laughing to Anthony's camera, and Phil doesn't even feel like part of the moment.
*
They don't talk on the way back up to the hotel room, but Dan is humming and tapping his foot and occasionally looking down at his phone as he texts.
"Anthony's asking when we're going to the airport," he says. "I think he wants to get breakfast."
"Don't remember." Phil's voice is quiet and he just feels tired. So, so tired.
*
Phil stands and stares in the bathroom mirror.
Dan frowns from behind him, suddenly appeaing. "Why'd you take yours off? I thought we could get a picture."
And Phil regrets what he did impulsively - suddenly, fiercely. It makes him almost want to cry, wishing he could have it back. Because he did want a picture, and now Dan -
"Phil." Dan's voice is cautious and curious. "What's going on?"
Phil presses his hands to his face and shakes his head. "Nothing. Nothing, I'm just."
Dan smells faintly of sweat and alcohol. "Did I do something?" He sounds confused and slightly lost.
There's so much in Phil's head, but he knows he's too tired and he knows the words would come out wrong and he doesn't want to fight and he doesn't want to make Dan feel the way that Phil feels right now.
So he doesn't say anything, but he steps into Dan's space and whispers, "I need-"
Dan's arms come up around him and Dan holds him tight and lets Phil cling back as hard as Phil needs.
*
He wakes up the next morning with a headache and a stomach heavy with regret. Some things are better with a night of sleep.
And some aren't. Some linger. Some things are always there, just waiting for the right kind of series of unfortunate events to draw them out.
"Crisis over?" Dan asks, rubbing his temples. "Fuck, I've got a hangover. Order me breakfast?"
"Thought you wanted to meet Anthony?" Phil asks.
"Don't actually give a fuck about Anthony right now," Dan says, staring at Phil. He's got that look of slow realization on his face.
Phil holds his breath. He wills Dan not to say it, not to speak out loud this weird shame of Phil's.
"I don't," Dan says again. "Give a fuck about Anthony."
"Okay." Phil sits up and turns his body away from Dan's, using the pretense of looking for the room service menu.
He feels Dan move and sit up, and then feels Dan's front pressed against his back. Dan must be kneeling on the bed, but he's hugging Phil from behind and dropping a kiss on the curve at the back of Phil's neck.
But he doesn't say anything and Phil makes himself breathe again. He looks down and the menu is in his hand. "What kind of hangover food do you want?"
Dan kisses his shoulder again and whispers, "Love you." which isn't an answer at all and is in fact something Phil knew, absolutely and unequivocally.
But it's still exactly what he needs to hear.