Work Text:
It’s quiet, save for the water beating down from the shower head and Phil’s stuffy breathing.
Dan drags his nails across Phil’s scalp, lathering up the conditioner in Phil’s hair while simultaneously giving him one of the best head massages he’s ever had.
As Dan applies more pressure near his temples, Phil leans back into him, savouring the moment.
Phil breathes out a shaky sigh, grateful that the day is coming to a close. He thinks back to the immediate searing pain behind his eyes when he woke up this morning, and the way his stomach dropped when he realized how croaky his voice was and how plugged his sinuses were.
He remembers rolling over, trying to get back to sleep and wishing away the sickness. It didn’t work, though, of course. The pounding in his head was too loud, beating out a jagged rhythm against his skull.
It was frustrating. Phil felt stuck, unable to remember the last time he felt so useless in his own body.
He wanted to cry, but he wasn’t sure if he could muster the energy do to so. Instead, Phil just laid there, bringing his hands up to shield his eyes from the light streaming in through the hotel curtains.
But then Dan’s careful fingers were there, gently wrapping around his wrists and drawing Phil’s hands away from where he’d pressed them into his eyes, as if the heels of his hands alone could stop the pain throbbing behind them.
And Dan was there again, with a bottle of water and a pill. And again with a steam inhaler and a bag of foreign sweets when Phil woke up from his headache-induced nap.
And now, washing his hair for him even though Phil is perfectly capable of doing so himself.
“Rinse,” Dan says quietly, drawing Phil out of his reviere.
Phil obliges, reaching up to wash the conditioner out of his hair, his fingers catching at the little knots.
When Phil opens his eyes, he sees Dan’s blurry figure working something into his hair.
“Wait,” Phil says, confused as to why Dan isn’t waiting for Phil to clean his hair for him.
“Don’t worry about it, Phil,” Dan says before Phil can continue, somehow knowing exactly what Phil was going to say. “You don’t have your contact lenses in anyway, and I don’t want to lose an eye today.”
Phil scoffs as Dan grabs his arm, making them trade places so he’s under the shower spray.
Dan grabs Phil’s bottle of shower gel when he finishes rinsing his hair, and Phil hears him pop open the bottle.
Dan slowly massages the gel into Phil’s skin, and Phil feels himself relaxing instantly.
It’s gentle, yet firm enough that Phil knows his muscles will thank him, or rather Dan, tomorrow.
Phil wishes he could stay like this forever, being slowly massaged by Dan in a cloud of stream that makes him forget he woke up sick this morning.
He sighs, leaning back as Dan wraps his hands around his hips, working at the skin with the heel of his hand.
Phil places a hand against the tiled wall, bracing himself as Dan crouches and moves down Phil’s body.
God, Phil thinks as Dan presses his thumbs into his calves.
Phil takes shallow breaths as Dan curls his hands around Phil’s shins, rubbing his skin in broad, circular motions.
“Okay,” Dan says, standing back up. “Rinse off and I’ll join you in bed. Get something good loaded up on Netflix.”
Phil, despite his urge to never leave this bathroom, nods, moving under the stream of water.
*
Phil’s settled in bed, his laptop paused on a random episode of Queer Eye, when Dan walks out of the bathroom in his pants.
Dan plants a quick kiss on Phil’s temple as he crawls into bed beside him, urging him to play the show. As Phil does, Dan shifts closer to him, wrapping an arm around Phil’s shoulders, drawing Phil into his chest.
Phil drinks in the embrace as the opening credits start, and nuzzles closer into Dan’s chest.
Dan’s warm. Phil breathes out slowly, briefly wishing that they went out earlier to explore the city. But he knows that he can’t change the fact he woke up sick, or that Dan willingly gave up his day off to take care of Phil.
(Though Phil knows he’d do the same too, if roles were reversed).
“I love you,” Phil says by way of thanks.
“Love you too.” Dan replies, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.
Phil lets himself melt into Dan, and before he knows it, he’s drifting in and out of consciousness, listening to Dan chuckle as he pulls Phil’s glasses gently off of his face.