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It starts with a prickle at the base of his skull.
Dan’s long since grown used to the feeling, to the way his vision goes spotty and black only to fade back a few seconds later. To the heaviness that leaches into his upper body for a blink, before his body recovers and blood flow returns to his head like nothing happened at all.
The prickle spreads to the top of his head, leeching across his scalp.
He swallows. Heat prickles along his back, moist and sweaty under his jumper and Dan wishes he could tug it over his head but people mull around him, a rush of pedestrians all in shorts and t-shirts and sandals. That would have been a better choice, Dan supposes.
A blurry spot erupts at the left edge of his vision. Dan tries to blink it away, but another one shows up.
He reaches for the edge of his jumper anyway, then. The heat feels tight around his chest and is making his head feel heavy. The flat is still a little ways away and Dan’s forgotten why he decided to go outside in the midst of the heatwave in the first place.
The dizziness comes as his fingers give out where they grip his clothing. Dan vaguely aware of his toe scuffing at a crack in the pavement, of his weight tumbling forward.
“Whoa!” says a voice by his ear.
An arm wraps around his waist. Dan tries to blink at the stranger, but that side of his vision’s faded completely and the whole world seems to be twisting in front of him.
He thinks a door open in front of him.
And then the whole world fades out.
---
He’s sitting on a sofa when his vision comes back.
“Oh thank goodness,” says the same voice from earlier. At least, Dan thinks it’s the same voice. Everything’s still a little blurry and he still feels too warm.
Too heavy and moist and sleepy to be sitting in a public–
In a public something.
Dan blinks again, and this time his vision slots back into focus. He’s sitting on a sofa, he realizes. Inside what looks like a coffee shop. With a stranger sitting next to him.
And there’s aircon.
Dan’s pretty sure he actually moans.
The stranger laughs, but it’s tight and strangled and he looks worried when Dan looks up at him.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “You fainted.”
Heavy, Dan thinks. But he shrugs one shoulder. “‘s happened before,” he mumbles. “Blood pressure thingy, I think. Orthostatic hypotension.”
“Oh,” says the stranger.
Dan hums. His legs are starting to feel normal again. His vision doesn’t take a second to come back when he blinks anymore. His palms flatten against the sofa, and he watches the stranger go tense when he pushes himself to sit up a little straighter.
There’s still a little prickle at the base of his skull, but Dan can hold his head up now and that’s better.
“You okay?”
He nods. “I think it was the heat,” says Dan. “Summer’s the worst.”
The stranger laughs again, happier this time. His tongue pokes out between his teeth and Dan thinks his mind must still be a little hazy because it takes him a moment too long to realize he’s staring.
“I’m Dan,” he blurts. “Thank you for, uh, saving me out there.”
“Phil,” says the stranger.
It suits him, Dan thinks.
“Okay,” he says. “Can I get you a drink? Consider it a thank you.”
Phil smiles, a little crooked and more than a little happy, and something in Dan’s stomach twists even though the dizziness has faded completel by now.
Dan lets Phil help him to his feet, and goes to order two iced caramel macchiatos.
---
“How long do you think they’d let me sit here before kicking me out?”
Phil shrugs. Their drinks have been empty for a while, and yet they’re still sitting on the sofa. Dan’s learned that Phil was going to get himself a reward for being productive, and that they have the same haircut for the exact same reason, and that Phil doesn’t actually make a habit of saving strangers on the street.
“How long are you planning on staying?” he asks.
Dan shrugs. “As long as they’ll let me,” he says. “My flat doesn’t have aircon.”
“Oh,” says Phil. “Mine does.”
Dan huffs. “No need to brag,” he mumbles, hoping the smile on his face lets Phil know he’s teasing.
Phil just smiles back, though. He’s a little shy, is another thing Dan’s learned. Phil’s cheeks go a little pink and his head dips as he says: “You could come over to mine?”
“Okay,” says Dan. “But only if you let me buy you that ice cream you were planning on getting.”
Phil’s gaze catches his, blue eyes gleaming. “Only if you let me share.”
“Deal.”
---
Phil’s flat is much bigger than Dan’s.
It has two bedrooms and a nice, white kitchen and a sofa that they drop onto together. There’s a few house plants littered around the place, and nerdy knick knacks Dan would buy for himself decorating the rooms. And the air is cold enough that Dan’s clothes don’t stick to his skin or the furniture or anything else.
They eat Phil’s favourite ice cream in silence.
Then they play Mario Kart, and Phil pouts when Dan beats him so Dan almost lets him win the next round.
At some point the sky starts to fade from vivid blue to swirls of indigo. They’ve each had a second bowl of ice cream instead of dinner and Mario Kart was turned off in favour of some movie Phil seems to like.
It’s probably cold enough outside now that Dan could walk home.
But it’s also cold enough in the flat that when Phil drapes an arm over Dan’s shoulders and draws him closer, Dan doesn’t pull away.