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It’s late, well into the early hours of the morning and Phil can’t sleep. There’s moonlight pouring through the windows, turning the bed into a pool of silver. A window must have been left open because the air feels icy on his skin, a juxtaposition to the warmth radiating from the man curled up beside him.
Phil pulls the duvet tight up under his chin, trapping Dan’s heat in an effort to stop the goose pimples from covering his skin. Beside him, Dan shifts a bit, head burrowing further into the pillow. He looks peaceful and Phil’s thankful. Dan’s dreams hadn’t been too kind to him lately, it was nice to see him sleeping with a smile for once.
He tries to close his eyes, blocking out the moonlight, but his mind was more awake than the time he ate too many choc coffee beans. It’s the same thought over and over again, the word starting with D that he never wants to think about.
Death.
He should be used to this by now. Dan has his own nihilistic approach to life and isn’t afraid of the end. He usually is fine with Dan’s passing comments because he knows it’s just his partner’s way of coping with how daunting life is. It was just that something had lingered in his mind, replaying in his head like a broken record until he was left with no choice but to obsess over the passing comment.
‘When I die.’
It doesn’t mean much. It shouldn’t mean much. It’s an inevitability of existing, but to Phil, it meant a whole damn lot. It was a reminder that their time together is finite, that one day they’d be nothing but dust and the world would just keep existing.
He wants those thoughts to shut up, to be quiet enough for him to go to sleep because it must be well after half three and they have editing to finish in the morning. He slinks an arm around Dan’s waist to pull him closer because maybe snuggling into him would be enough to silence the loop in his mind.
“Phil?”
Dan sounds so groggy and he feels bad because his movements must have stirred Dan from his sleep.
Their faces are so close together that Phil can feel Dan’s breath on his skin. He opens his eyes to see Dan looking at him, brown eyes wide and curious, probably as to why he’s still awake.
“Go to sleep,” Phil whispers. He strokes his thumb along smooth skin that feels so hot to the touch. He’s always loved just how warm Dan is, like a human hot water bottle that was perfect for cuddling on cool nights like tonight.
Dan’s eyes study him as if he’s assessing every inch of his face to understand why he’s still awake. He must have picked up on something because he shuffles in closer, head joining his on the pillow so their noses touch.
“Tell me,” Dan says, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. Phil loves the gentle touch and the security it holds. He can trust Dan with this, with his endless loop about something so ridiculous.
He hesitates, looking at Dan, so bloody close to him. In the moonlight, he can see the freckles that dust his nose and every single eyelash that frames his eyes so delicately.
“I don’t want you to die.”
It feels like his whole body is trembling as he says that, as he lays the raw truth out in the open. He doesn’t want Dan to die. He doesn’t want himself to die either. He wants his forever with the man that he loves and he knows it's an impossibility, but it doesn’t stop him from clinging onto that hope.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dan mummers. “Promise.”
“But you will one day. We both will. What happens then?” Phil replies. He can feel his chest tighten just at the mere thought of how finite existence is. He tries to keep his breaths steady, a slow in and out.
Dan’s hand travels up to his earlobe, massaging it gently. The action is soothing, feeling connected to Dan always feels grounding, “Don’t know. None of us know.”
“Want you forever.”
“We have our forever, life is pretty damn long when you think about it.”
Phil frowns. Forever doesn’t feel like forever when it’s only a finite amount of years.
“Can’t live in a world without you in it, Dan.”
“Me neither,” Dan replies quietly, words no louder than a breath.
His brows then furrow, looking at Phil as if he’s trying to figure him out, “What’s playing on your mind? Causing this.”
“It’s stupid.”
They’ve been down this path before when Phil lets his mind get the best of him. Dan knows this underlying fear he’s had for years and how hard it is to shake it. He knows that Dan would never find it stupid but it doesn’t stop Phil from thinking it.
As if Dan is in his mind, he replies, “What you’re feeling isn’t stupid, love.”
“Tonight you said that when you die the DVD will be something that you’re proud of.”
“Yeah.”
“How can you be proud of something when you’re dead?”
“Phillie,” Dan says, lips turned down into a frown. The nickname isn’t something he hears often and it’s comforting. “Living means making a mark, leaving a legacy. Making a change in the small amount of time we have in this universe.”
“Not helping,” Phil replies, closing his eyes. Small amount of time doesn’t exactly sound that appealing to him right now and his mind latches onto it, echoing those words in repeat. Time and death. Both the things he is scared of rolled up into a sentence.
“Not finished yet,” Dan brings his hand down to thread their fingers together. “We got lucky enough to be given a chance to live, and even luckier to find each other. And we’re here having such a positive impact on millions. Of course the DVD is going to be a legacy to be proud of, even when we’re not here.”
What Dan’s saying makes perfect sense. His logic is flawless but it doesn’t stop his chest from feeling tight.
“I don’t want us to stop being here. Ever.”
Dan squeezes his hand, “It’s okay to be afraid of dying, Phil. Just don’t let it ever get in the way of you living.”
“Thank you,” He whispers. Dan’s always had a way with words, with being able to calm him in a way that no one else could. And being told that it’s okay, to have fear, made something within him loosen.
Dan tilts his head forward so he could brush their noses together, “What are you thinking about now?”
A lot. He’s still thinking about how life is limited and that he and Dan won’t be around literally forever but he’s also just thinking about Dan. How he is lucky enough to his spend forever with Dan, no matter how long forever might be.
Instead of saying that, he says, “How much I love you.”
Dan smiles, so radiant in the moonlight, “Love you too. Forever,”
“Our forever,” He says before pressing his lips to Dan’s with a lingering kiss.
“Don’t let your mind run in circles, it’s never a good idea,” Dan mumbles against his lips.
“I’m so afraid of it,” He replies, not wanting to say ‘death’ out loud.
He doesn’t need to vocalise it though because Dan seems to understand, “The unknown is scary but you know what?”
“What?”
“Right now. The present. That’s all that matters.”
Dan says that with so much warmth and sincerity that he can feel his heart flip. He’s someone who has learnt to live in the moment and Phil appreciates, He appreciates it because sometimes he needs a reminder that being in the present with Dan was all that’s important.
“Yeah?” He says, not so much as a question but more so a confirmation of what he said.
“Yeah. All that matters is that you totally should snuggle with me,” Dan pries his fingers off Phil’s in favour of lifting up the duvet as an inviting gesture.
“Is that a suggestion or a demand?” A hint of a smile plays on his lips for the first time in hours.
Dan grins, breaking all seriousness between them. He rolls forward a bit, enough to bundle Phil up, “Come here.”
He giggles into Dan’s chest and doesn’t make an attempt to move, “You’re so warm.”
“Warm enough for you to fall asleep?”
He nods. Phil thinks it might be impossible to not be able to fall asleep when surrounded by Dan. He burrows into Dan’s warm skin, relishing just how familiar he smells, like warm and home.
Dan’s right about how only the present matters. He doesn’t want to think about anything other than how comfortable Dan’s chest is and the way his hand is caressing his back. He doesn’t want to think about endings because he doesn’t need to. There’s no ending with Dan right now, only the all-encompassing affection he is receiving at this moment.
This little talk won't stop his mind from falling into loops, focusing on the inevitable so much so that it stops him from living in the present. He doesn’t think that would ever fully go away, but Dan’s arms and gentle words were enough to silence his mind. Just enough for sleep to cloud his thoughts.
“Love you,” Dan whispers.
“Love you too my hot water bottle.”