Archive of Our Own ^beta

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It didn’t just hit him in the face one day. He wasn’t just staring at dimples and wide smiles and brown hair and suddenly BAM!, he knew. Despite what the fics liked to say, the way they liked to paint them, none of them got it quite right.

It didn’t start one day when he waited in a busy train station, and the crowd didn’t part before him to show a tall, slightly awkward 19 year old. He didn’t look into deep brown eyes, the color of melted chocolate in certain light, and just know. He merely hugged the boy he’d met through Twitter and Skyped with for the past few months and thought, I hope he doesn’t hate me now that he’s met me for real.

And when Dan came to him, opened up to him about his emotional turmoil, he didn’t think, I want this slightly fucked up cute boy to be mine forever. He didn’t say, “Well, Dan, it’ll all be okay because we’re in love,” and he didn’t kiss him then. He just sat on the floor next to him and rubbed his back and told him in quiet whispers that, even though it might not be okay now, it would be eventually.

And when they moved in together, he didn’t get down on one knee and propose to Dan in their new kitchen. He didn’t lift him up and make out on the breakfast bar, and he didn’t smack his ass during every meal they made (well, actually, he might’ve done that a couple of times). In the back of Phil’s mind, he thought Wow, isn’t this domestic? and Man, he really looks good laughing in the kitchen with me. But he didn’t do crazy things like shove his tongue down his throat when he had two drinks in him, and he didn’t fill their apartment with roses and confess to Dan by candlelight on their fifth, sixth, seventh year anniversary.

He didn’t kiss him when they were backstage on tour, and they didn’t have sex in the big bed on the back of the bus, although sometimes they would end up falling asleep there because they wanted to watch just one more show together. He didn’t hold his hand constantly, didn’t kiss his neck casually in front of their team, didn’t buy Dan any sort of present that might suggest… anything.

And more than that, more than those milestones, he just didn’t do all those things people do in movies or books or TV or the fics , the fucking fanfictions, where the light hit Dan, perfectly outlining his beautiful profile and it hit Phil all at once, where he squeezed Dan’s hand and felt lightheaded, like electricity running through him, where he answered Dan’s phone on accident and heard someone asking about a boy he was in love with and suddenly he was crying, and then Dan would come in and kiss him and everything would be magically fixed, no talking involved. He didn’t get jealous easily, he didn’t run to Dan’s aid at the slightest hint of danger, he wasn’t a prince or a dragon-tamer or a BAMF or a barista or a neko and they weren’t in high school and there wasn’t an apocalypse happening and he wasn’t into degradation, although if Dan was, that was fine. He was just Phil, and Dan was just Dan, and Phil slipped into loving Dan easily, as a friend. It was unclear to him, though, when that had turned into seeing them together forever, seeing them holding hands and going to the zoo and stealing kisses under yellow pools of light.

And so he didn’t fill their apartment with flowers, or surprise Dan with a proposal, or ever even confess to him.

The things he didn’t do added up, in imagined scenes written by fans and in videos too many people analyzed and at some point he just needed a breather, needed a break, because he didn’t want them to see what he could barely fathom for himself. Philip Michael Lester was falling in love with Daniel James Howell, and he was pretty damn sure Daniel James Howell was falling in love with him too.

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He couldn’t believe when he saw an actual reply to his comment. He couldn’t believe it when his idol, amazingphil, the man he wanted to be, actually wanted to interact with him. He couldn’t believe that he was actually going see him, not just direct message him through social media. When Dan first saw Phil, it was through a grainy screen on his shitty laptop while he was sat in his childhood room, in the bed he masturbated in to women, and, more recently, men. He couldn’t believe he was seeing Phil’s emo fringe, so similar to his own, and laughing at his jokes, the way he laughed at his off-beat, quirky videos. He couldn’t believe he got to experience Phil’s unerringly positive personality, that he got to bask in the sunshine that was Phil Lester. He never thought anything would come of him commenting on his Twitter, and nothing did, at first.

When Phil responded to his comment, and kept responding to him, and direct messaged him, and texted him, and Skyped him, he still couldn’t believe it was real. He wanted it to be; he had never fallen asleep at night smiling, and he had never felt the urge to travel to something so strongly. He had only ever wanted to run away.

He noticed the little things Phil did for him, and his parents noticed how he acted happier, was happier. He would do anything, be anything, for Phil. He wanted to make this man as happy as he was.

At first, he called it friendship. But emotions were hard to untangle when you were plucked from the stan crowd and put right in front of your idol. He was excited and he blushed all the time and he still couldn’t believe he had won Phil’s favor when there were so many others around him that were so much better.

And then he went to university, and everything came crashing down. He couldn’t be as perfect as he needed to be. He couldn’t keep stringing Phil along like this, convincing his idol to like him when he was obviously worthless. But, still, somehow, he found himself knocking on Phil’s door and spilling out everything on his floor at 11 pm on a Tuesday. Well, maybe not everything, but the stuff about him not wanting to study law came out easily. The other more… emotional emotions would stay locked up tight for a later date.

And Phil rubbed his back and reassured him and was, basically, amazing, as always, just like his username promised. Which only made Dan feel worse. His gut tugged him toward Phil but his mind berated him for it. And when he dropped out of uni and started making YouTube videos, his mind whispered at him, Just like Phil, huh? Copycat. Not an original bone in your body. You’ll never be as good, get as big as him. And just like every other time, Dan didn’t have the strength to argue.

But then he reached his first mil, and then his second, and he began to think he might actually be able to do this. That maybe his idol wasn’t so far out of his league after all. Maybe if he and Phil had the same subscriber count, he’d see him as more than his kid friend. Maybe he could level the playing field after all.

When he and Phil moved in together, it was like his wildest dreams come true. The fanboy within him was sweating excitedly, and the part of him that was Phil’s closest friend was jumping for joy.

The voice at the back of his head whispered, Now Phil will surely see the parts of you he detests, up close and personal. This will just make things that much harder when he realizes he has to leave you. Just wait, he’ll be gone soon, just like everyone else.

Life went on. His subscriber count kept climbing, and, on the day it passed Phil’s, he guiltily slumped into the living room, wondering if Phil had noticed yet. Phil looked up and saw him and his mouth stretched open in the widest grin Dan had ever seen him make.

“I’m so proud of you, Dan,” Phil said, wrapping his arms around the younger man. “I love you so much,” he whispered in Dan’s ear. Pulling back, he jokingly added, “Now, don’t get too big of a head! I can’t believe I’m living with an actual famous person.”

Dan rolled his eyes, fears assuaged for the moment. But later that night the voice crept back in. How dare you think you’re of the same caliber as Phil. Even though you have more subscribers now, it’s not like you actually earned all of them. Half of them came from piggybacking off of AmazingPhil. You owe everything you have to Phil. You’d be nothing without him.

One night, in late 2012, Dan called out in the middle of the night. Phil ran in to find him there, staring at the ceiling. And Dan told him.

“I can’t move, Phil.”

“What do you mean, can’t move? Do I need to call 999?” Phil questioned, hands fluttering around Dan, unsure of what to do.

“No, don’t call. I just… don’t have the will to.”

“Oh,” Phil’s hands settled in his lap and, after a long pause, he laid down beside Dan.

All was silent in the dark of Dan’s room. The city moved around them, but here there was nothing but heavy silence as the lengths of time stretched in front of them, unending and infinite, and Dan poundered his own existence.

“Phil, I think I need help.”

“Do you want my help?” Phil sounded nervous, fearful, maybe, of what helping Dan entailed. Don’t be a burden on him.

“Phil, I think I need… professional help.”

“I can help you with that,” Phil let a small smile grace his lips, and, for the first time in almost four days, Dan smiled back.

And so, it got better. Kind of. Dan still couldn’t believe that this was his life. He couldn’t believe it when they went on tour for the first time, and sold out . He couldn’t believe that he hit five million subscribers, and then six. He couldn’t believe that they went on tour again and that his fans still loved him even through his rebranding.

But, above all, he still couldn’t believe that Phil was still his roommate, that he was still friends with him and they got to do what they loved, together. He couldn’t believe that a man he idolized twelve years ago was his best friend now. He couldn’t believe that his entire adult life hinged on the fact that Phil replied to his comment over ten years ago. He couldn’t believe that he owed Phil his success, his social life, his mental health, everything. But, most of all, he couldn’t believe that he was still hopelessly infatuated with Philip Michael Lester ten years later.

Everything led back to Phil, one way or another.

Chapter Text

Their tour was finally done. Phil flopped backwards into their sofa crease and savored the moment of complete and utter silence and calm.

The moment was fleeting, however, as Dan banged up the last few steps and dropped the last of the bags at his feet, immediately face planting into their couch alongside his Phil. The top of his curly hair barely brushed Phil’s thigh, and his legs, bent at the knee, stuck straight up in air behind him as he let out a large groan. Phil absentmindedly let his hand comb through Dan’s hair as he felt Dan go weightless, sinking even deeper into the couch and relaxing his legs. The silence prevaded, filling every nook and cranny of their shared flat as the two men basked in doing absolutely nothing.

Their . Phil savored the word, savored the fact that everything in his life was now part of a their. Some might find it annoying, always being lumped in with Dan, but he was too fond of Dan to ever feel that way. Although it was tiring to read comments about where his friend was when he was just trying to post about his family, and it could get annoying with people always inquiring where Dan was, and it-- but that was besides the point. Phil purposefully shoved those thoughts away, refocusing on the moment, the feel of Dan’s soft curls beneath his hands, and pushed a smile on his face, drinking in the site of the apartment he had felt, at times, that he would never see again.

Eventually, Dan rolled over, turning his face upwards and blinking his eyes up at Phil, making a face so affectionate that Phil felt his stomach pang. He blinked, and allowed a lopsided grin to sneak across his face. Suddenly, they were both laughing, and the comfortable silence was broken yet again.

Gasping, Dan sat up, his eyes level with Phil’s as they both stared at each other and laughed even harder. Dan’s brown eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth, and his dimple was on full display. Phil was sure his tongue was poking out from in between his teeth, but he didn’t care how dumb it looked. He was laughing with his favorite person in a flat they shared after getting back from touring the world together. It really couldn’t get any more amazing than that.

“We did it!” Phil managed to get out in between gulping for air. “We actually, really did it! We’ve made it all the way around the world and back!”

Dan’s expression grew, if at all possible, brighter, his eyes seeming to twinkle with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “I know, Phil! I know,” he repeated, softer than the first time, and his eyes softened along with his voice, and he seemed to beckon Phil forward, his head tilting just so and his body leaning forward until--

Phil enveloped him in a hug. Squeezing his favorite person tightly, the older man stood with Dan in tow and began turning around in circles, restless with uncontrollable, giddy energy.

“We did it! We did it!” he sang, moving around the coffee table and somehow managing to avoid knocking into the TV until he finally collapsed on the couch once again, Dan on top of him this time.

Dan’s shoulders were still shaking with laughter as he leaned back from Phil’s rather abrupt dance-hug combination. His bright smile stayed on his face as Phil noticed a curl had fallen into his eyes. Phil let his hand do what it wanted, and Dan watched as Phil’s hand reached up and gently brushed the curl back, running through Dan’s shorter sides and enjoying the feel of Dan melting in pleasure. Phil was mesmerized by the sight of such a happy Dan, calm and enjoying his own space. I love him like this , he inwardly sighed, and had the strong urge to snap a picture, although he knew it would never turn out on camera as good as it was in person.

Phil basked in the fact that no one else knew this Dan, his Dan, the one that laughed at all of his dumb comments and didn’t have to be loud for the camera but still screamed sometimes, even though Phil was right there and yes, I can hear you just fine, Daniel . The Dan that was quiet and looked off into space but was close enough that all it took was a touch on the shoulder from Phil, a soft whisper of his name to pull him back so that was with Phil completely again. The Dan that laid on the couch with his head in Phil’s lap and painted incredible worlds with his words and shared his opinions on everything and was never scared of what Phil would think because he knew , so completely and without a doubt, that Phil loved him.

Phil liked having this Dan all to himself, and he loved that Dan had let him enough to see every side of him. Phil loved every one.

Chapter Text

Dan went to bed that night worried.

He and Phil had ordered pizza and munched on it quietly in front of the TV, enjoying the steady feeling of each other’s presence. They had been quite excited to stay up until 3 am and fuck up their sleep schedules properly, but they were so accustomed to the touring schedule that they both felt like passing out before 11 pm.

Phil had been dozing in and out of consciousness for a while before he finally gave in and announced that he was going to bed.

Dan had teased Phil, saying, “Wow, you’re a proper old man, now, huh?”

“If wanting to go to bed early means I’m old, then you must be older than old! Don’t think I didn’t notice you yawning every other minute over there,” Phil had replied, standing and stretching before beginning to gather their dishes from the table.

“Older than old,” Dan had mimicked. “You’re so tired you can’t even think of a good comeback!” He poked Phil with his sock-clad toes as Phil wobbled past him, his legs still readjusting.

“Hey, knock it off! I’m the one being the responsible adult here and clearing our plates! You could help, you know.” Phil swatted at Dan with his free hand, his other busy being piled with dishes.

Dan had laughed, standing and following Phil into the kitchen. He watched as Phil placed the dishes in the sink (they’d take care of them tomorrow) and threw away their trash. Dan’s eyes traced over Phil’s lean forearms that were starting to show a bit of muscle from their movement-heavy tour lifestyle. He gazed at Phil’s quiff of black hair, and admired the way he looked in glasses, the frames outlining his face nicely. Phil bit his lip subconsciously and raised his light hazel eyes to Dan’s, crinkling them with his gentle smile as his lip fell from in between his teeth. Dan honestly couldn’t think of a sight more beautiful than Phil right there in front of him, performing the most mundane and domestic of tasks.

He followed Phil up to their bedrooms and, through twin yawns, they mumbled matching “good night”s to each other and went into their rooms, the doors they closed separating them and finally allowing Dan to be alone with his thoughts. Which was the time he had both been dreading and looking forward to throughout the entire tour.

The tour had flown by so fast, with barely a moment when Dan wasn’t either with Phil, getting ready to be somewhere with Phil, or sleeping. He hadn’t really had time to properly reflect on his experiences nor on his relationship with Phil, which he had often found himself pondering during the nights before they set off.

He almost felt like he was back in 2012 again, suffering from severe depression but unwilling to express it or get help and taking it out on Phil, on the Phil he wished he had.

It almost always led back to those fantasies of his, fantasies he could easily indulge by a short Tumblr search. “Phan.” The ship name haunted him. He had read thousands of phanfictions, starting when he had first realized his fanbase shipped them and continuing long into his adult life. He thought by now he had seen it all. Phil rescuing him from a dragon, Phil teaching him about dragons, Phil saving his life and then falling in love with him, Phil helping him regain his memory in hospital, Phil doing something heroic while Dan could only flop helplessly in the background.

That’s how you seem to everyone else. The voice was back, curling around the back of his head and snaking into his ear. Weak. Always needing Phil to save you.

Dan grimaced and curled into a ball on top of his sheets, still fully dressed. He covered his ears, as if that would stop the voice from speaking. You’d never be able to hack it on your own, huh? Even your fans can see. You’re nothing without Phil. Dan rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on his breathing and the feeling of his body inside of his clothes.

He focused his mind on each muscle in his leg, identifying which piece of fabric from his bed or the clothes he was wearing were touching him, moving up his body until he reached his head. He stopped after focusing on each curl laying across his forehead and he finally felt like his mind was his own again, at least for the moment.  

And though Dan knew it was stupid and futile, he couldn’t stop replaying the almost-kiss. He had thought he was over hoping for Phil to reciprocate, since he obviously only considered Dan a very close friend. He literally dodged Dan’s mouth, for Christ’s sake! That was a pretty clear signal that he did not want Dan’s spit near him at all. His depression was rearing its ugly head in the form of heavy limbs and lost willingness to do anything except lay here and continue staring at the ceiling while his thoughts convinced him of what a depressing loser he was. 

In love with his best friend? How pathetic is that? Even his viewers could see right through him.

How could he cope with this when he couldn’t even explain his feelings to the one person he always went to (besides his therapist, of course)?

Dan felt the familiar muted anger rise up inside of him, a low thrumming, dampened red, and he let it. It wasn’t fair that he was back from tour and feeling this way! He should feel content, relieved, triumphant! And although he had felt all those things less than five hours ago, he didn’t anymore. All he felt now was heavy. He couldn’t even hold the anger for more than a few moments; in a blink, the wave was gone and he was empty again.

Dan lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling like a thousand weights were keeping him tied there. Slowly, he allowed his mind to empty until there was nothing left. No thoughts, no feelings, just him and the vast expanse of white above him and in his mind.