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“Dan?”
“Phil.”
“Do you love me?”
Dan finally looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, letting his phone clatter on the table in the process, “Do I even want to know why you asked that?”
Phil shrugs, “Just answer.”
Dan rolls his eyes, “You know I do,” he says.
“Great. Could you order us some popcorn?” Phil does his best impression of puppy dog eyes and pouts at Dan, who is currently curled up in one of the two chairs at the table a couple feet from the bed.
Dan finally yields, detangling himself from the chair, “I swear to god, Phil, the phone is right there.” He points to the bedside table. It’s true, Phil is closer to it. Phil couldn’t care less.
“Yes, but I hate phone calls,” he scrunches the duvet up further on the bed. “Also I don’t wanna move from my blanket nest.”
“I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.”
“Are you going to let me suffer or are you going to call room service?”
Dan is shaking his head, but he already has the receiver in his hand, “Okay, but I’m choosing the movie.”
“Deal,” Phil settles further into the crappy hotel bed, “Come cuddle when you’re finished.”
Phil can’t see his face, but he knows Dan is rolling his eyes despite the smile he can’t help forming. It’s the one that’s directed at Phil, and only Phil. His insides go warm and fuzzy, and not just from the duvet tucked around him. He knows Dan will always love him, despite his insecurities. That’s all Phil ever wanted, anyhow.
Dan has a brief interaction with a person on the other end of the phone before crawling into the bed next to Phil, “Done.”
“I love you,” is Phil's response, muffled through Dan’s shoulder. Phil buries his nose into Dan’s neck as soon as it comes close enough, inhaling deeply. Phil couldn’t get homesick if he tried, because Dan smells like home.
Dan drops a kiss on the nearest patch of pale skin to his lips, which happens to be Phil’s forehead. “Wow, I can’t believe the only time you love me is when I get you snacks.”
“Shut up, I love you ninety-nine percent of the time.”
Dan quirks an eyebrow, “Ninety-nine? What’s the other one percent?” he stops, genuinely considering, “Do I want to know?”
Phil blushes, because he very well knows that he hasn’t stopped loving Dan since 2009, when they’d only just met for the first time in the real world. Instead of confessing that, however, he says the first thing he can think of that Dan will understand. “When you beat me during Dan versus Phil.”
Dan laughs, eyes crinkled around the edges and warm when they meet Phil’s, “You’re ridiculous,” he says, voice soft and teasing.
Phil can’t help himself. He reaches up and boops Dan in the nose with his index finger, giggling softly. Dan retaliates the way he can’t in videos, diving in to press a kiss to Phil’s expectant lips.
This, Phil thinks, is definitely a good forever.
-
“How far do you think we are from the city?” Dan asks from his position on the bus lounge. He’s referring to the city of Chicago, as they’ve just arrived in their Illinois location. His legs are currently sprawled in front of him and his head is flopped backwards onto the cushion. He looks terribly uncomfortable, but Phil isn’t going to complain. He also looks quite squishy at the moment, and Phil is drinking it in.
“I don’t know, Google it.”
“‘M lazy,” he slurs, “and you have your phone out.”
He has a point. Phil rolls his eyes, but he taps on the maps app anyways. He pushes a few buttons, then brandishes the screen for Dan to lean in and see. “Half an hour.”
“Hmph,” he slumps back in his seat, “I wish it were closer. Did you know there’s a wheel on the pier?”
Phil cocks an eyebrow then, “You wanted to go?”
Dan shrugs, “I mean, if we had time, I would’ve liked to.”
“Now I wish we did.” He’s not lying. Phil misses the stupid wheel just as much as he knows Dan does.
Dan huffs, blowing a curl from where it falls onto his forehead. “Touring sucks sometimes.”
“Yeah, but most people will never get to travel like this.”
“That's true. We’re lucky.”
“We are.” Phil almost stops the entire conversation there, but then he remembers something. “You do know that there’s probably more than one ferris wheel along this entire tour, right?” Surely, a world tour that takes six months to complete will have plenty of similar tourist destinations.
Dan sticks out his tongue at Phil, then lays his head back and pouts. “I just really would have liked to go today.”
“I know,” Phil smirks, “you’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?” Dan says defensively. He reaches for his cheek self-consciously. “I don’t have a look.”
Phil reaches over to him from his side of the sofa and pokes his cheek, where Dan’s dimple lies dormant. “You do.”
Dan smacks at Phil’s hand, “Shut up,” he mumbles.
Phil just grins, “Next time.”
Dan’s eyebrows pinch together, “Next time?”
“We’re allowed to travel just for fun, Dan.”
“Right,” he says, “Christ, we really need to go on holiday more often.”
“We’d better do that before we get a dog, then.”
“Oh yeah?”
“If you think I’m not going to spend every second of my life dedicated to an adorable fluffy animal as soon as it is in my possession, you are very much mistaken.”
“That’s completely valid. I support you, Phil.”
“Thanks.”
Dan flops his head to the side so he can gaze at Phil. He doesn’t say anything for awhile, he simply exists. Neither of them have their phones in hand for once, and it’s a rare moment of quiet among the bustle of touring. Phil has the urge to brush Dan’s curls back from his forehead. He realises that they’re alone, and he can, so he does. His hair is soft and fluffy and his skin is pleasantly warm.
Phil watches Dan think, his eyes gradually softening and glimmering in the afternoon light streaming into the room. Dan’s eyes refocus, and they travel back to Phil. He poses an unspoken question.
Phil answers, “Soon, I promise.” Soon they’ll have the future they keep talking about. Soon everything will finally be able to fall into place.
It’s inevitable.
-
The show starts in an hour and they’re missing the one prop box they have and, to top it off, literally half their set won’t fit through the doors of the venue. It’s safe to say there’s a little bit of panic surrounding the entire crew.
Dan is sitting in the one chair in the dressing room, adjusting the tearaway part of his shirt, while Phil anxiously rocks on his heels.
“Does this look normal?” Dan finally asks, spinning the chair around and standing so Phil can examine him.
Phil barely spares him a glance, “Yeah, it’s fine,” he says. In truth, he’s not really paying much attention. His head is too busy spinning off its axis.
Dan folds his arms across his chest. “It might be, but you’re certainly not.”
Phil quits bouncing on his heels, instead clasping his hands together under his chin to stop them from shaking. “Sorry.”
Dan crosses the room with a swiftness Phil wasn’t aware of until just now. He places a reassuring hand on Phil’s shoulder and squeezes firmly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”
“I know,” Phil manages a small smile when he looks up at Dan, “I can’t help it.”
Another squeeze is administered to his shoulder. “For now, just breathe.”
Phil thinks he can do that. “Okay.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before the air puffs back out. He tries to focus on counting each step, on the warmth of Dan’s hand against his shoulder, on the gentle hum of the aircon, and on the simplicity of this moment. They’re Dan and Phil. They can do anything.
Phil’s breathing has finally begun to even out when there’s a knock on the door. Dan’s hand retracts back to its place at his side.
“Come in.”
One of the crew members opens the door and steps into the room. “We found the prop chest, and we definitely won’t be able to get most of the set into the building, but we have a backup plan waiting for you guys. We have just enough time to test it if you can be backstage in five.”
“Oh thank god,” Dan breathes, “We’ll be there. Thank you.”
The guy nods once, then exits. Phil takes a moment to exhale in relief. “Wow. That was a near disaster avoided.”
“Told you.” Dan chides, a smirk dusting his lips.
Phil gives Dan a stern look, rolling his eyes in the process, “Yeah, you did.”
Dan softens his eyes, “Seriously, are you alright now?”
Phil nods, “Yeah,” he smiles, “Thanks.”
Dan chuckles. “You’re a real spectacle, Lester.”
“Says you, Howell,” he teases right back.
“Touché.” Dan puts on hand on Phil’s back, pushing him towards the door and towards their empty stage Though, Phil supposes they could scrap the entire show and it’d still end up being something to be proud of, because it’s them. They’re in this together, and Phil wouldn’t give that up for the world.
-
Phil doesn’t mind the tour bus most of the time. But he has the occasional day where he wants to rip his own hair out. Or launch himself out one of the windows while they’re still in motion.
The bus itself is perfectly fine. It’s nicer than the last one, it’s got so much more space and mirrored ceilings for their entertainment.
Really, Phil doesn’t find any issues with the bus until the final stretch of their American segment of the tour.
They’ve been driving in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, for about five hours now en route to their next stop. Phil doesn’t remember where exactly they’re going or how long it takes to get there, but he does know that his bunk is suffocating and still vaguely smells like burnt plastic from the stupid light incident a month ago.
Phil has tried closing his eyes about twenty times now, but he can’t seem to grasp onto the tendrils of sleep no matter how close they seem. He huffs quietly, rolling onto his side and scrunching his pillow into his face. His attempts are futile, however, as the blanket covering him suddenly warms by a thousand degrees, wrapping around his legs uncomfortably.
Eventually, Phil kicks the offending piece of fabric off of him entirely. He flops onto his back and reluctantly accepts that he’s not going to be falling asleep like this, no matter how hard he tries.
He stares up at the grey ceiling for what seems like forever before sighing rather loudly. There’s a slight rustle of movement from above him. Phil’s eyes flick up to Dan’s bunk. There’s far too much shuffling happening now for it to have been Dan simply shifting in his sleep. No, he was definitely awake.
Phil frowns and scrambles to find his phone, discarded somewhere in the mess of blankets next to him. He locates it, and sure enough, there’s a text from Dan sitting at the top of his screen.
Dan:
can’t sleep?
Phil breathes a sigh of relief. Perhaps he had woken up Dan, but it didn’t matter now.
Phil:
No. The bus is too much
He’s not sure if that’s entirely true. Yes, the bus is part of the problem, but Phil knows there’s a lot more happening in his head than he can logically understand in his current sleep-deprived state.
Dan:
yeah, the last few days on the bus are always the worst
do you need anything?
Phil:
Just sleep
Dan:
me too lol
hold tight for a sec
Phil is about to ask what he means, but before he can do just that, he hears the curtain to Dan’s bunk slide open. Then comes the soft thud of feet hitting the floor before the curtain to his own bunk slides open to reveal Dan’s dimly lit face.
He smiles at Phil, meets Phil’s tired eyes with his own droopy lids blinking more frequently than normal, “Hi,” he whispers, squeezing into the bunk right next to Phil.
Phil welcomes the warm body with open arms, literally. He slings one arm around Dan’s torso, positioning him so that they’re chest to chest. Dan expertly slots his legs between Phil’s and reaches an arm out to close the curtain again, encasing them in near darkness.
Phil pulls Dan as close as he can get, burying his nose in fluffy brown curls in the process. A hand finds his, delicately interlacing their fingers together. Phil finds himself melting into the atmosphere as the blanket is tugged back over the both of them.
He can feel Dan’s heartbeat in his chest, and his breathing is tuned nicely with his own. Dan is soft and warm and solid and close. He’s grounding, keeping Phil tethered to reality as soon as he starts to drift away.
“Good?” Dan asks, voice barely loud enough for Phil to register.
“Better now.” Phil responds. He feels Dan smile into his neck, and he knows he’s drifting.
Maybe it’s a half dreamed delusion, and maybe he’s confusing it with the feeling of falling asleep, but it’s as if Phil can feel himself falling in love all over again.
-
There’s a thud in the middle of the night that Phil wishes he never heard.
Of course, as soon as it happened, Phil’s eyes snapped open, wide awake and frantically searching for the source of the interruption. He thinks he hears footsteps, but his brain is still swimming with the last few dregs of sleep.
He swings his legs over the side of his bunk and peeks his head out into the lounge. It’s empty, but there’s a single overhead light on, and Phil is almost certain he can hear voices coming from somewhere. Nothing seems out of place, but that fact just makes his ten times as anxious.
The doors to the bus open just as Phil is crossing the threshold into the room, revealing a very disgruntled Marianne. She’s got her phone in one hand and her hair in the other. She sees Phil standing frozen in place and sighs.
“I was just coming to check on you guys. Someone hit the side of the bus,” she says, matter-of-fact.
So that’s what he’d felt. “Oh,” he says. He feels like he’s missing something important.
“Is Dan awake?”
“Uh,” Phil blinks, “no?”
“He’s the only one not up yet, and I need everyone off the bus.”
Phil barely registers what she means, but he manages to respond anyway, “I’ll wake him.”
He hears the phone click, and Marianne sends Phil a thankful but pointedly stern look before exiting the bus once more.
Phil squeezes his eyes shut tight, trying to wake himself up. His left ear is ringing faintly, and he feels a bit wobbly.
Dan. He needs to get Dan.
Phil shakes his head once and straightens his spine before shuffling over to Dan’s bunk. He draws back the curtain slowly, fingers trembling slightly. He sees Dan, back turned to him, blanket scrunched up to his chin, and exhales. He reaches a hand in and gently shakes Dan.
“Dan.”
He hears a grumble, and something that sounds like it’s supposed to be a sentence. Phil is used to this, but today it feels like someone has just cut the knot tied in his abdomen so he can breathe properly again.
He smiles to himself, then tries again. “Babe, you’ve got to get up, or Marianne’s going to be on your ass.”
Dan finally rolls over onto his back, giving Phil a look that reminds him of a puppy. Dan finds his phone in the sheets and squints into the bright screen. “Christ, Phil. Why would Marianne be pissed at me for not getting up at five in the fucking morning?”
“Someone hit the bus.” Phil relays. He still hasn’t really processed the fact. He’s only thinking about Dan, right here, right now.
Dan frowns. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
Dan slowly pushes himself into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I didn’t feel it.”
“That’s because you sleep like a log.” Phil points out. He kind of wishes he didn’t, though. His insides still haven’t resettled to their designated areas.
“At least I don’t steal all the covers in my sleep.”
Phil can’t help himself from giggling uncontrollably. He feels so stupidly light with relief. Dan doesn’t even care that a car could’ve went right through the side of the bus, and it’s calming in a way Phil can’t explain. “That’s just unfair,” he says.
“To me, yes, I know it is.” Dan knocks his knuckles into Phil’s shoulder playfully, grinning.
Phil rolls his eyes, “Are you getting up or not?”
Dan sighs and hops down from the bunk. “Yeah, alright, I’m coming.”
They wander outside after Dan pulls a pair of joggers on, and are greeted by their entire crew and Marianne, who is still disgruntled but no longer on the phone. She sees the two of them and waves them over frantically.
“Alright, I already told this to everyone else, but I need you guys to stay here until the police arrive. We might be stuck out here for a bit.”
“What actually happened?” Dan asks.
“Nothing major. The couple in the car are fine, just a little shaken. The bus should be fine as well, nothing seems broken. It’s just paperwork at this point.” Marianne checks the time, and then sighs, “For now, we wait.”
So they do. The police show up five minutes later and ask a whole lot of questions that Phil is much too tired to answer. But, eventually, they’re allowed to leave while Marianne handles everything else.
The two of them don’t go very far, only wander far enough so that they can’t see the flashing blue and red lights or hear voices anymore.
Phil still feels a bit wobbly, and he can’t help but inhale sharply once they’re completely alone.
Dan regards him closely, “Are you okay?”
Phil nods, “I will be. I’m just a bit freaked out, I think.”
“It’s alright, yeah?” Dan rubs a hand between his shoulder blades reassuringly. “Everyone’s fine.”
“I know.” Phil looks away.
“Phil, look at me.”
He does.
“I’m fine.” Dan says.
Phil closes his eyes for a few seconds, feeling them prickle lightly in the corners, then opens them again. “I know,” he whispers.
Dan reaches over and pulls Phil into a tight embrace, enveloping his arms and face with his torso. Phil lets it happen, as he can’t bring himself to do much else just then.
Dan presses a feather-light kiss to the top of Phil’s forehead, then brushes his ruffled hair back into place. “I’m right here, Phil. Always.”
Phil adjusts himself so he can really look at Dan, “I know,” he says.
His legs finally feel steady again.
-
“Would you stop moving so much?” Dan hovers over him, trying to adjust the face mask perfectly to fit Phil’s face.
Phil squirms, “It’s slimy.”
“It’s good for you, now stand still.”
Phil giggles, trying his very best to not move his face, “This is not what I imagined when you said ‘let’s do face masks’.”
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who agreed.” Dan shrugs. He pulls a strand of hair that had gotten caught under the edge of the mask and smooths it back into Phil’s quiff. “There, done. My turn.”
Phil blinks a few times, adjusting to the cool sheet pressed to his face. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Dan leans back in his chair, pushing his hair back from his forehead, “Just go for it,” he gives a noncommittal shrug.
“Okay,” Phil opens the package carefully and pulls out the mask. He shudders when he touches it. “It feels like a jellyfish.”
Dan glares fondly at Phil, “Just suck it up and put the jellyfish- I mean the mask- on my face!”
Phil can’t hold back his giggles this time, but he manages to get the mask on Dan’s face despite the situation.
As soon as he pats down the last bit and pulls his hand back, Dan bursts out into his very own fit of giggles, “You look like a horrifying creature.”
Phil grins, “Great, that’s the look I was going for.”
“I can’t even imagine what I look like.”
“Yours looks adorable.” It really does. Phil doesn’t know how he manages to look good no matter what he does, but somehow it always happens.
Dan flushes, the pink of his cheeks barely visible through the translucent piece of fabric stuck to them. Phil smiles. Knowing he can still make Dan blush like a teenager is one thing Phil can never get over.
Dan pulls out his phone, examining himself, “Hm. Is this story-worthy?” He pulls at the edges of the mask, smoothing it down to look softer. Phil can’t help but track every movement with his eyes.
“Definitely,” he tells him. The world deserves face mask Dan in all his soft glory. Phil takes out his phone as well, jumping a little when he sees himself. Dan’s not wrong, he does look quite like a convoluted movie villain from the right angle. “I’ll do one too,” he decides.
“This is giving the people what they want taken to another level.” Dan laughs. He snaps a few pictures, then settles down to examine them.
Phil fiddles with a few settings before executing his vision. Dan rolls his eyes at him when the classic horror sound effect plays, thumbs moving over his own screen precariously.
He clicks post once he’s satisfied, and sets his phone down. Dan is still concentrating on his screen intently.
“What’s taking you so long?” Phil asks.
“Mm, nothing.” He tilts his head and taps a few more times.
Phil reaches over and pulls the phone out of Dan’s hands despite any and all protests against him. “I’m gonna have to post it for you at this rate. Oh, this filter is nice.”
Dan leans to hover over him, giving up trying to get his phone back. “You think?”
“Absolutely.” Phil says. “Though I think you’re beautiful in all of them.”
Dan makes a gagging sound and screws up his eyes, “Disgusting.”
Phil chuckles, then shrugs. “I guess you don’t want me to dig up our conversations from the early days, then? You made some pretty straightforward comments back then.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re referring to.”
“Sure.” Phil grins. “Are you gonna post this?” He nods towards Dan’s phone.
Dan tilts his head in consideration. “Yeah, I will.”
Phil hands him back the phone, and Dan taps a couple more times before he finally sets it down.
“Wanna start a movie before we take these off?” Dan suggests, gesturing to both of their masks.
“Yee.”
-
When they get off the bus for one of the last times ever, Phil thinks he could kiss the concrete beneath him. He doesn’t, but he could.
He and Dan are given more time to themselves than they have in awhile, and it’s a refreshing breath of air. Vancouver is beautiful, and Phil is itching to explore every inch of it.
They end up near the city, walking on a path around some lake that Phil didn’t bother to figure out the name of. All he knows is that it’s quiet and secluded, far from the bustle of people around them. No one is asking either of them questions they’ve answered twenty times already, nor are people fussing over how they look or where they need to be. It’s just him and Dan, allowed to sit and do absolutely nothing for hours.
Dan is sat on the grass, hands behind him, supporting his upright body. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, and the sun is illuminating every feature on his face. Phil sits less than a foot from him, arms curled loosely around his legs. He rests his head on his knees, turned towards Dan.
The sun is warm, but not too warm. There’s a gentle breeze drifting over the lake, creating subtle ripples that Phil finds his gaze following.
Moments like this are rare for them. Usually they’re either huddled up at home, or so busy that they don’t have time to simply sit and breathe.
Dan’s eyes flutter open, squinting against the sun. He looks over at Phil, capturing his eyes with his own and keeping them there. Phil smiles lazily, blinking slowly. He can feel the stress of the tour leaving his body little by little. He’s exhausted, he realises. But he couldn’t care less right then.
“You want to keep walking?” Dan asks, stretching his arms high above his head.
Phil sighs, “Yeah, sure.” He likes the uncertainty of it. He likes that he could’ve said ‘no, let’s stay here for awhile’ instead. His whole body feels like gelatin.
Dan pushes himself off the grass reluctantly, moving in a way that Phil finds so simple, yet graceful. Dan stretches his legs before extending a hand to help Phil, who hasn’t yet made the effort to move.
Phil regards the hand for a split second, then takes it without hesitation. He doesn’t let go, even when they’re both standing. Instead, he threads their fingers together without a word, and continues on the path they’d been following before.
They rarely hold hands in public. They simply can’t. But here, in a country they don’t live in, in a space where they don’t have to think about other people, they can just be.
They wander aimlessly, secure in their silence. Phil runs his thumb over the back of Dan’s hand in soft, circular motions. He sees Dan smile to himself, squeezing his hand back in response.
The sun is setting now, and Dan tracks the entire thing intently. Then he stops them both. “I need to document this,” he remarks, digging his phone out of his pocket.
Phil nods, releasing his hand and continuing his walk forward to give him space. He turns around, watching Dan’s eyes light up in awe. Phil settles into his heels and tilts his head slightly. He takes out his phone, but not for the sunset. No, he’s more interested in the slight frown on Dan’s lips, concentration seeping into his features.
He takes a few pictures for himself before Dan lowers his phone. He’s still admiring the view, so Phil opens up the Instagram app, seeing Dan’s newest story post. He thinks it’s okay, then, if he shares a bit of this moment with the world.
Dan doesn’t realise what actually Phil’s doing until he speaks. He scoffs when he figures it out, and Phil has lowered the camera. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, smiling anyway.
Phil shrugs, “You love it.”
“Sometimes,” Dan chuckles, taking Phil’s hand back in his own and kissing his cheek.
Phil retaliates, guiding Dan’s lips to his with a gentle touch. His tongue still tastes faintly of the butterscotch ice cream they’d had earlier, and his skin is warm to the touch. It’s grossly romantic, Phil realises, to be kissing in the middle of the woods as the sun is setting behind the trees.
Dan lets himself be kissed, as he always will when it comes to Phil. He’s the first one to pull away, still vaguely conscious of their surroundings. “I thought you hated romance, Lester,” he says, pressing a finger into Phil’s chest.
Phil shrugs again. Years ago, he would have laughed at the thought of finding himself in this situation, but now it seems like he can’t get enough. “Your influence, I guess.”
Dan rolls his eyes, “Damn right it is.” He kisses Phil again, for good measure, and pulls him along. Their arms are glued together, shoulders bumping every few steps.
Vancouver has been good to them, Phil thinks. Of course it has been. It gave him this moment.
Phil looks over at Dan.
Perhaps it isn’t just the city, after all.
-
It wasn’t a problem of whether or not Phil wanted to sleep on planes, it was that he couldn’t. He’d tried too many times in too many different ways too long ago to even remember. As far as he knew, he’d always had the issue.
So, a sixteen hour flight to the other side of the world was, inevitably, going to cause some problems for Phil.
This was one of his least favorite parts about touring. The lack of sleep he accrued over months of jet lag and getting up early was going to be his downfall.
He didn’t know how Dan didn’t collapse with exhaustion every few days; Phil supposed that even if he didn’t look that way on the outside, it didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling it on the inside.
Walking into an American airport for the final time is one of the most relieving and simultaneously most anxiety-inducing events on this whole tour.
Phil can feel a headache threatening to crack the cage it’s confined to, and he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t have downed his entire water bottle in one go.
Dan, on the other hand, seems a perfectly normal, civilized human being. He’s managed not to do anything particularly idiotic this time around. Both of his eyes are working, at least.
But Phil is still feeling ill from the car ride here, and that was two hours ago.
“I’m really not excited to be stuck in a metal cylinder for sixteen hours without a proper bed.” Dan asks, once they’re seated in their boarding terminal.
Phil hugs his pillow closer to his chest, “Yeah, but at least you’ll get to hang out with me.”
Dan gives him a look, “Nope. Still not worth it.”
Phil exhales sharply through his nose, “Rude.”
“But true.” Dan shrugs, nonchalant.
“I’m filing for divorce.” Phil decides, abruptly. He turns to study Dan’s reaction.
Dan’s eyebrows scrunch down, mouth downturned slightly in consideration, “We’re not married, Phil.”
“Yet.” Phil points out, eyes still trained on Dan’s expression.
Dan raises an eyebrow, “Was that a proposal?”
“I sure hope not. Mine will be much more creative than that.” His eyes find Dan’s carefully. Dan has a glint in his eye that Phil picks up on, loud and clear. He thinks about the speech he’s been rehearsing in his head for months now, and he looks down at his hands to mask whatever expression appears on his face.
“Good, you can do better.” Now it’s Dan who is trying to hide his smile.
“Hey!” He doesn’t bother arguing. They both know that Phil can and will do much better. Now, it’s just a matter of time.
Dan scoffs amidst his grin and turns back to his phone, leaving Phil to his own devices.
Honestly, it’s a miracle that Phil falls asleep at all.
He closes his eyes within the first hour out of sheer desperation. What he didn’t expect was to open his eyes to see four hours had already passed.
Dan notices him stirring and glances over, “Back from the dead?” he teases.
Phil rolls his eyes, “I guess so.”
“You missed out on some fascinating stuff.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep,” he pops the ‘p’, “I discovered that you can’t sleep normally when you’re upright. You’re very fidgety.”
Phil huffs out through his nose, “I’m just glad I slept at all.”
“Me too. That way you couldn’t force me to play I-Spy for three hours.”
“I’ll have you know that I-Spy is a great pastime.”
“Right.” Dan hums sarcastically.
“So... I spy something red.”
“I’m turning up the volume.” Dan says, doing just that.
Phil leans back in his seat, grinning fondly to himself. “Rude,” he says. He sees Dan turn down the volume on his earbuds back down just as soon as he’s turned it up. Dan chooses to ignore him, but he can’t help but quirk his lips up slightly.
Phil studies him for the briefest of moments before turning back forward and closing his eyes again. He can hear the deep hum of the engine beneath him, and the slow breathing of sleeping passengers engulfs him into a trancelike state. He won’t be able to fall asleep again for awhile, but for now he thinks he’ll be okay.
-
Touring is never what either of them expects it to be. Obviously, a trip that takes months and a shit ton of careful planning doesn’t always pan out right, or maybe it does. Phil can never really tell the difference. Most of the time, everything is a blur. He sees so many faces every day and so many cities that he can barely pronounce correctly, and he knows Dan is the same way.
It can get hard, sometimes. Living away from their familiar space for so long, and trying to put on a brilliant show every night, is exhausting.
Yet, no matter how similar this show feels to the first in terms of traveling and meeting people, it someone feels like another reality altogether.
The thing is, this tour is a whole separate entity than the first one. This one feels more intimate, more them. Phil knows this tour is something special. It’s to give the people what they want, and still keep the most important things to themselves.
This show, Phil thinks, is a way to just be Dan and Phil. It’s a way to show people who they really are without giving too much away. They’re just two nerdy guys who happened to find each other in a world against them.
But then again, they’ll always be known as Dan and Phil, super best friends and soulmates.
And that’s something Phil can rely on.