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Dan didn’t feel like a good dad. He never did, those first five years. He kept wondering when things would get easier. He asked his mum and Louise and Lauren and they all had different answers. But everyone Dan went to for advice ended always ended up saying around the same thing. Dan, this thing isn’t easy. It never is. But it’s worth it. You know that, right? Of course. Of course it’s worth it. Because the good days are so good. But those aren’t the ones he thinks about. The bad days are the ones that stick in his brain.
It’s a good thing Phil’s an optimist. He’s tried to convince Dan time and time again that being an optimist is a good thing. Dan’s never really bought it. But Phil can be enough of an optimist for the both of them. He’ll remind Dan of the good days in the midst of the bad.
It’s somewhere between too late to be nighttime and too early to be morning when Dan wakes up. There’s no alarm, just his internal clock reminding him of the routine he’s so carefully created over the past few years. He rolls over and is met with a Phil-sized lump. He’s still asleep. Dan can tell by the way his shoulders move with each breath. Dan’s a nice guy, he’s not going to wake Phil up on purpose. But if he happened to stir on his own accord Dan wouldn’t be mad. He reaches out his foot and touches a cold toe to Phil’s ankle. Phil stays silent. Fine, no morning cuddles today.
Having a child has made both Dan and Phil treasure their alone time more than usual. And that time is usually found between the time when they enter their room for the night and up until the time when they get up again in the morning. And being exhausted most days doesn’t help anyone’s sex life. Because once anything starts to get going, someone always ends up drifting off to sleep.
Dan tries his best to be quiet as he throws off the covers and makes his way to the bathroom. He pees and brushes his teeth and messes with his hair until accepting that it just won’t cooperate. When he comes back into the bedroom, Phil has sprawled out across the bed. His eyes are still closed and his mouth is open. He’s making small little snoring noises. Dan smirks to himself. Sometimes he just can’t believe that this is the guy he fancies. But he does. God, he does.
He definitely doesn’t grab his phone and take a picture before going to the kitchen to make some coffee. On his way to the kitchen, he puts his ear to the other bedroom door. Silence. A bit suspicious. Still, Dan doesn’t want to break the spell of a uniquely quiet and peaceful morning. He pours himself a cup of coffee and eats half a banana, lounging in the kitchen by himself. He reads a few pages in a book he started over a year ago and checks his email on his phone. It’s Saturday, not a day for real work. He’s honestly just passing the time.
Over the past few years, Dan’s forgotten what it’s like to be alone. He’s grown accustomed to the noise that so often fills their home. The silence this morning makes it feel like some kind of spell has been cast around the house. He’s afraid to break it, even though the magic of it all feels so out of place.
He walks back through the hall down to the bedroom doors. His and Phil’s is still cracked open. He peeks his head in. Phil has rolled around, in the beginnings of waking up. The duvet is wrapped all around his long, gangly limbs. Phil’s face is pushed into the pillow, like he’s trying to keep out the light breaking between the gaps in their curtains. Dan giggles to himself. Phil must’ve heard Dan because he grunts in response.
“Good morning, grump.” Dan whispers from the doorway. Phil makes some more unintelligible noises that Dan easily understands. He’s not ready to get up yet. The bed is just too comfy. Still, he probably wishes he had woken up to Dan curled up next to him.
“I made coffee,” Dan offers. Phil gives a long sigh. Dan holds back a grin and leaves the bedroom to let Phil wake up.
As he approaches the second bedroom door, he’s surprised that there’s still no noise coming from behind it. He opens the door a crack as quietly as possible. Inside, a child’s bedroom decorated in purple and green is lit by the same sun that peeks through Dan and Phil’s bedroom window. Glow in the dark stars are stuck to the wall and climb up the ceiling over a small twin bed that is pushed against the far wall. Dan’s son is sitting up in bed, book in hand. So that’s why he was so quiet this morning. He looks up as Dan opens the door.
“Dad?”
“Good morning, Sky.” Dan walks across the room and kneels next to the bed. He kisses Sky’s temple, “What are you reading?”
“Book.” He points at it, like he’s given a good enough answer.
“What book?”
“The one Papa reads to me.”
“The one about the stars?”
“Mmhm.” Sky’s big brown eyes look at Dan with a type of earnest affection. Dan feels that familiar pull in his stomach. He felt it the first time he saw his son as a baby. It still hasn’t gone away. He hopes it never will.
“I like that one. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Me too,” Sky smiles big.
Dan does too, “Did you wake up just to read it?”
“Well, I had a dream about the stars. And it was really, really fun. But then I woke up and I kind of missed being up with the stars. So I got the book from under the bed and tried to keep dreaming a little. I think maybe one day I’ll be an astronaut, Daddy. So that I can go meet the stars. And I could, like, fly around in space in my marshmallow spacesuit. In my dream, you and Papa were with me in space. And we were trying to find where the aliens lived. So I think you and Papa should become astronauts too. So we can go meet the stars together.”
“That sounds like a good dream.”
“It was. I liked it.”
“I’m real glad, Sky.”
“Did you have dreams, Daddy?”
“Daddy was too tired for dreams last night, baby.”
“What about Papa?”
“I dunno. Wanna go ask him?”
“Yes!”
Dan helps Sky out of bed and lets him go ahead of him. Sky runs at lightning speed to Dan and Phil’s bedroom. He jumps as high as he can, landing on their bed and on top of Phil. Dan is right behind him, flinging himself down onto the bed on the other side of Phil.
“Papa!”
“Ahhh!” Phil’s definitely awake now. He covers his face like he’s being attacked, “Who is this monster waking me up at this ungodly hour?”
“Papa! It’s Daddy and Sky! Wake up! Wake up! We want to hear about your dreams!”
Phil uncovers his face, “Sky? Dan? Is that really you?”
“Yes, Papa. Who else would it be?”
Phil reaches his arms out and wraps himself around his son, pulling him down to the mattress with him.
“Papa, did you have dreams?”
“Dream?” Sky nods. “Well, I think I did. I think I dreamed I was with Timothee Chalamet and we were swimming with dolphins.”
“You have weird dreams, Papa.”
“Well, did you have dreams little boy?”
“Yes, I dreamt that you and Daddy and I were astronauts in space.”
“That sounds like a good dream.”
“That’s what Daddy said.”
“Well, then. Great minds think alike!” Phil looks over at Dan with a smile. Dan feels the pull again.
“Hey, Sky?” Dan asks.
“Yeah?”
“I have a really good idea.”
“What? What? What?”
“How about…. We make pancakes!”
Sky jumps up, crushing Phil under him, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we put whipped cream on top?”
“And sprinkles!” Phil adds.
“Alright, three orders of dessert pancakes coming up!” Dan takes Sky’s hand and pulls him off of Phil and off of the bed. They walk to the kitchen hand in hand, Phil following behind them.
Their family of three spends the morning eating sugary pancakes and watching cartoons. Dan desperately wants to introduce Sky to the world of anime, but his subtitle-reading skills aren’t advanced enough to keep up and Dan refuses to watch them dubbed. Sky sits pressed up against Phil most of the morning while Dan makes trips back and forth to the kitchen, cleaning up dirty dishes and pans used in the pancake-making process. It’s a lazy morning for all of them and every time Dan looks over at his husband and son snuggled up under a big fluffy blanket together, his heart swells. This is one of the good days he’ll keep stored away in his mind for later. Hopefully Phil does too.
*
On Monday morning, it’s Dan’s turn to drop Sky off at school. It’s a few months into the 5 year old’s first year at a real school and he’s seemed to be loving it. Dan tried to convince Phil that they should homeschool Sky, because everytime he thought about sending his son off to the dangerous depths of primary school all of his dark memories of being bullied came flooding back. He refused to let Sky go through that. The thought made him sick.
Phil convinced Dan that the times have changed. They researched all of the schools in the area to make sure Sky was going to the best environment possible and they had interviews with several teachers beforehand, just so that Dan was sure. It did make him feel better, and Sky’s teacher has been very good with communication giving the parent’s weekly reports on the going’s on within the classroom.
Today, though, Dan is a little bit more on edge. Sky had a hard time waking up this morning, so he’s in a worse mood than usual. But also, on Sunday afternoon he had convinced Dan to paint his nails. He’d asked Phil first, thinking that Dan would say no. But Phil didn’t want to ruin his child’s fingernails with his shaky hands and poor coordination.
“Dan, come on. You’ve painted them before.”
Dan responded in a hushed, but harsh tone, “Not the day before he has school, Phil. You don’t know how the other kids might react.”
“It isn’t the 90s, Dan. Lighten up.”
“I’m not just being a grump. I’m trying to protect him from the shitty bigots of the world.”
Phil scoffed, “There aren’t any 5 year old bigots in his class.”
“You don’t know that.”
Sky was a little bit more convincing with his puppy dog eyes and little hands holding up the bottles of polish, “Please, Daddy. You do it better than Papa.” And Dan really couldn’t say no.
So, Sky walks into school this morning with bright green and purple fingernails. His mismatched socks are the same colors. He’d done that on his own, without either of his father’s help. Phil said he was the proudest he’d ever been so far as a father.
But Dan can feel the tension in his shoulders spreading throughout the rest of his body as he passes other parents in the hallways. He always walks Sky to class, never feeling totally calm until he sees Sky safely settled into the classroom. It took a lot of getting used to at the beginning, letting someone else take care of your son and watch over him for multiple hours in a day. Fears were constantly running through his mind of things that could go wrong while Sky was at school, without Dan there to protect him.
It’s easier now a few months into the year, but Dan still hates leaving him every morning.
During the walk from the front door to the classroom, no one seems to notice Sky’s new look. Dan feels like he’s holding his breath and he feels bad for it. It’s not the 90s anymore. People are way more progressive, especially here. That’s one of the reasons why they had picked this school, because they hadn’t even blinked an eye at Dan and Phil being two dads. Everyone introduced themselves with their name and their preferred pronouns which made Dan feel immediately more accepted and comfortable.
But Dan had experienced enough discrimination in his life, he could deal with it. It’s his son he’s trying to protect, not himself. His son, who hasn’t made any significant decisions about sexuality or gender identity yet. His son, whose favorite colors are green and purple and he likes painting his nails and he wants to be an astronaut one day and his favorite toy is a stuffed purple badger called Martha. His beautiful, perfect, completely innocent child who loves his fathers and hasn’t seen much darkness in the world yet. And Dan will do anything to keep it that way.
They arrive at Sky’s classroom just before time for class to start. Classic Dan Howell, never late but always just barely on time. Sky’s teacher, Ms. Reineke, is standing at the door greeting all of the children like she does every morning. She spots Dan and gives him a small smile. Dan returns it weakly. Sky turns around a wraps his small arms around Dan’s legs in a hug goodbye. Dan squeezes back and leans down to give him a quick kiss on the top of his head.
And just in case, he whispers in his ear, “I love you, buddy. You’re an amazing kid and I’m so glad that you’re my kid. I just want you to know that you get to be whoever you want to be. An astronaut, a ballet dancer, a footballer. Anything. And don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Sky beams up at Dan with the widest grin Dan had ever seen, “I know, Dad.” Then, he turns around and darts into the classroom. He immediately starts talking to Ms. Reineke about his weekend, holding up his nails for her to see. She smiles at Sky and gives him a high five, then turns to Dan. She holds two thumbs up and mouths Good job with her eyebrows raised in a teasing way. It’s warm, in the way that Dan imagines teachers should be.
He lets out a sigh, a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Sky is going to be okay. Today could be one of the good ones after all.
He arrives home a few minutes later to Phil sat at the dining room table, papers spread out across the table’s surface and glasses hanging loose at the end of his nose. Dan drops his keys and leans down to kiss Phil’s cheek. Phil half-smiles up at him. He’d had a rough night, he’d not been able to sleep due to a combination of caffeine and being preoccupied with a particular part of the script he’d been working. Dan walks around to stand behind him and rolls up his sleeves. He places his hands on either of Phil’s shoulders and starts to rub. Phil immediately leans back into it. A sign of gratitude. This kind of touch has become Dan’s favorite between the two of them. The casual and comforting kind. The kind that shows how much they hold each other up and how much they don’t mind the extra weight.
They’d both been tense this morning, but for different reasons. And as Dan attempts to untangle the knots in Phil’s back, he feels his own start to unravel too.
“How’d it go?” Phil mumbles, half focused on the papers in front of him and half focused on Dan’s hands on his back.
“Good… it was good. No tears. Just ran in like he couldn’t wait to to be at school. Imagine that, liking school.”
“No bigots?” Phil asks, and Dan can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s struggling to keep his eyes open and mind awake.
“No, no bigots. I’m sorry I got so worked up. I know I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. But… I do.”
Phil turns in his seat and takes Dan’s hands in his, “I worry too. Of course I do. But we shouldn’t have to worry for those reasons. I don’t want you to. We’ve both come too far, you’ve come too far to get held up on things like that. Like boys wearing nail polish. The world isn’t what it used to be.”
“I know that. I love him more than life itself, Phil. I can’t imagine him going through anything similar to what I did. It makes me want to fucking punch a wall or something.”
“It makes me want to punch a wall knowing that you did have to go through it.” Phil rubs his thumbs over Dan’s knuckles. His fingers aren’t soft, but Dan could swear that he’s got the feeling of them memorized. Like he could draw out each individual line of his fingertips if he wanted to.
Dan smiles, “I told him he could be a footballer if he wanted. And I meant it, but Jesus we’ll be in for it if he does.”
“There’s no hand-eye coordination anywhere in his DNA, he’d have to be some kind of prodigy.” Phil jokes.
“But even if he were-”
“We’d be cheering him on at every match. Of course.”
Dan takes a breath, setting himself down on top of Phil’s thighs, “Is it bad that I want him to be more normal than I was?”
“I think it makes sense. You just want to protect him and that’s okay. I do too.” Phil brings his hands to rest on Dan’s lower back, leaning his forehead against Dan’s. Dan knows that one wrong move could send Phil’s balance too far forward and he’d go tumbling into the wall. But that’s okay. He’ll trust him in this moment to hold him up. Dan’s weight and the weight of his past and all of his fears. They’re in this together, even on the bad days and especially on the good.
They sit like that for a few more minutes and Phil lets Dan distract him with lazy, lingering kisses while he kneads his fingers into the hard parts of Dan’s back.
“I should get back to editing, “ Phil says in a breath between kisses.
Dan refuses to let go, “You should let me take you back to bed. I’ll do something to make you even more relaxed. Maybe afterwards you can catch up on the hours of sleep you missed last night.”
“Dan-” Phil whines.
“I miss you,” Dan moans.
Phil rolls his eyes, “I’m right here.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Dan mashes his mouth into Phil’s, trying to keep the small fire in his stomach burning. They’re older now, and that fire is less important and not as easy to get going on days when their muscles ache and anxiety is high. Still, Dan’s never going to stop wanting Phil on top of him making him feel good.
Phil leans back, almost making Dan slide down off of his lamp. Dan clutches Phil’s shoulders, “Don’t you fucking dare, you spork.”
“Language, Dad.”
“The child isn’t even here.”
“But what would he say if he were? He would be very disappointed in you, Daniel.”
“Are you disappointed in me?” Dan attempts to say this in a sexy tone of voice, but it doesn’t really have the effect he wants it to.
Phil smirks, “Never.” He gives him another quick peck and then slowly pushes Dan off of him, as to not accidentally send him falling to the ground.
“But,” Phil says as he turns back around to his work, “if I get this done before lunch, maybe you’ll get lucky.”
Dan starts walking back to their bedroom, “You’ll be staring at the same page for another four hours most likely. I’ll be lucky if you even remember to come to bed at a reasonable time tonight.”
Phil’s attention has started to drift away from Dan and back to the papers in front of him, “Don’t mock my process, Howell. I’m trying to make art.”
“Just as long as you thank me in your Oscar speech.”
Phil scoffs, but doesn’t respond. His eyes are dancing across the papers, already re-immersed in the world and story he’s spent the past three years carefully creating. Dan likes seeing him like this, in the same way he likes seeing him with Sky. Age really does suit Phil Lester. Age and everything that’s come with it. The creases around his eyes, the slight gray to the sides of his hair, the calmness he has with Sky, and the time he takes when creating new projects. And Dan will always feel proud of being the man Phil chose. He’ll always feel a little giddy when he spies different parts of his and Phil’s story in one of his scripts. He’s yet to write something with a straight couple in it. Dan feels proud of that too, the representation his husband is bringing to mainstream British media.
The world they’ll never escape from, no matter how far from the London they go or how infrequently they tweet. That blue checkmark beside his name will always mean something. Dan doesn’t know how he feels about Sky discovering his parents’ fame one day. They’ve kept him relatively separate from that world. He barely knows what it means to have a YouTube Channel. And yeah, his and Phil’s audience know that they’ve moved to a forever home and that they adopted a little boy five years ago and that Dan sometimes wears a silver band on his left ring finger. But their content no longer exists in such close proximity to their real lives. Sky has never been in a public Instagram post, and he may never be. If every once in a while Phil tweets about a funny thing their son says, it’s fine. People ask some questions about Sky that are okay to answer, like if he’s just as obsessed with sweets as Phil is or if he’s going to follow in Dan’s footsteps and learn how to play the piano. But there are some people that go too far. Those are easy to ignore most of the time, since Dan and Phil’s social media activity is already relatively limited. And sometimes a particularly offhand tweet will really get to Dan, but Phil’s always right there telling him it’s okay, to just ignore it. Dan listens and the anger goes away. People can’t get to his son through a screen, at least not yet. He can protect him from all of that too, for now. But he knows he can’t forever. That’s the terrifying part.
Dan slouches into one of the chairs in the lounge and takes out his phone. He loads Twitter out of habit, refreshing his home feed. He sighs at the state of the world and mindlessly scrolls through. It’s an attempt at distraction from a long morning filled with anxiety. Nothing really catches his eye, except for something in his mentions. It’s a digital drawing of Dan and Phil cuddled up with their son. It takes him by surprise because the little boy between them looks exactly like Sky, whose face has never been on the internet. Bright brown eyes look up at Dan in the drawing, auburn hair wavey across his forehead. Dan’s breath catches. This imagination of his son is the closest one he’s seen yet. It stirs up the fear inside of him. The fear that tells him he isn’t good enough and that he won’t be able to keep Sky hidden away from all of this one day. He doesn’t like the tweet, just takes a screenshot of the image and turns his phone off. That’s enough of that for today.
The rest of the day, Dan takes his time tidying up the house. He does a load of Sky’s laundry and cleans up some toys strewn about in the lounge left there from the weekend. Eventually, he gets around to opening up his laptop and checking his email. He replies to a few things from YoungMinds about an upcoming event and ignores the rest. That’s the only part of his job he gets excited about anymore, the stuff that has to do with helping young people. It means so much more when you have a child, knowing they’re going to grow up one day to be a teenager. Dan tries not to think about that as much as he can.
A little after noon, Phil decides to take a break from editing. Except that Phil’s editing just involves staring at a half written script and sometimes circling or highlighting a specific part. Other than that, not a lot of actual editing gets done. He convinces Dan to walk with him to the shops to get some groceries.
On the way back, Dan asks, “Are we going to let him on social media?”
“Who?” Phil says, clearly spaced out from watching a dog across the street.
“Sky, our son.”
“He’s five years old, Dan.”
“I mean, when he’s older. He’s going to ask, you know. And I’m not sure I want to be the bad guy in that situation.”
“So you’re saying you want me to handle it?”
“No. We’ve just… we’ve barely even talked about.” Dan shrugs.
“Because he’s only a little kid, Dan. There’s time for us to figure those things out.”
“I know. I just started thinking about it today. Like, what if he wants to watch our videos? Have his own Instagram? How are we going to protect him then?” Dan stops in the middle of the sidewalk and turns to Phil.
“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” Phil takes Dan’s hand in his, the one that isn’t carrying three grocery bags.
“I know it shouldn’t.”
“That’s just how your brain works, isn’t it Danny?”
Dan nods, “Unfortunately.”
“Hey, I love that brain.” He puts his hand on Dan’s cheek, completely undisturbed by the fact that they’re in public.
“Dan,” Phil continues, “let’s take it one step at a time, yeah? That’s always been the plan. One foot in front of the other. That’s all it takes.” Dan smiles half-heartedly and nods.
“Let’s go home, yeah?” And Phil leads him home with Dan’s hand in his.
Sky arrives home later that day with stories to tell about his day at school. Dan feels like he can finally relax. His whole family at home with him, sitting in the kitchen. Sky putting together a puzzle, Dan attempting to cook dinner, and Phil on his computer at the breakfast bar sitting next to Sky. Dan loves their trio so much, he feels like he could burst. It's not really a sense of happiness bubbling up inside of him, more like an overwhelming feeling of contentedness. Dan used to dream about what it feel like to be content, to feel whole. And meeting Phil was the first time he'd ever felt anything like that stir inside of him. And now, with Sky, he feels like the puzzle of his own life has come together.
He listens along to Sky's stories and responds at the appropriate times. He loves the little gossips sessions he has with his son about all of the other five year olds in his class. Last week Elliott and Samantha got fake married. This week they're getting a divorce because Elliott has decided he's in love with the red Power Ranger. Dan smiles to himself, the red Power Ranger is a boy. And it doesn't matter, not to his son or the little boy in his class. And he's so glad.
"So Quinn said that he knows you and Daddy." Sky says to Phil.
"I don't remember meeting a Quinn." Phil replies.
"Well she said that she watches you on YouTube." Sky says, like it's not a big deal.
Dan and Phil both stop and look at each other. This is new, this is ground they haven't covered yet. Dan doesn't know how to respond.
Sky looks over at Dan, "Can I see your videos? Quinn says they're really funny."
"Sky..." Phil says softly, "I don't think you're old enough to see me and Daddy's videos."
"Well, I'm the same age as Quinn," Sky says simply.
"I'm not Quinn's parent. I can't decide what she can and can't watch. But I am yours, and I think you're too young." Phil holds his ground. Dan can't quite believe he's doing it. It's not that they're embarrassed about what they do. They just don't want to open that door into what it means to be an online influencer yet. It's not an easy conversation to have with a five year old. Sky knows that Dan and Phil make videos for a living and post them on YouTube, but he doesn't know that millions of people watch them.
"Dad-"
"I agree with Phil." Dan says. He's not sure he could say anything more without saying something wrong.
"Just one?"
"No, Sky. Don't argue with me." Dan says harshly.
Sky looks between both of his fathers with the most convincing expression he can muster. Once neither Dan nor Phil make any move to change their minds, Sky crumples up the pieces of his puzzle and shoves them to the floor.
"Sky!" Phil scolds. Sky ignores him, hopping out of his seat and stomping down the hallway to his room. A door slams somewhere in the house and the silence that follows is deafening.
Dan turns the stove off and turns to Phil, "This is what I was talking about."
Phil huffs, "Are you going to say I told you so?"
"No." They're both frustrated, but they're in this together. "Do you want me to go talk to him?"
"I say we let him get all his anger out. He'll be hungry soon anyway." Dan moves to start cleaning up the discarded puzzle pieces, "No. Leave it. Let him pick it up when he comes back out," Phil says. Dan does as he's told and leaves the pieces where they lie on the floor. He's filled with the urge to go check on Sky, to apologize for being unfair, and show him every single video he's ever made. But he can't. Being a parent means disappointing the person you love most in this world. It's hard, but it's the right thing to do and they both know it.
Dan frowns, "How old do you think is old enough to understand the weight of a million people?"
Phil looks at him and the expression on his face tells Dan that Phil feels the exact same way. Cornered, frustrated, and just completely useless. "I don't know," Phil says honestly. "Maybe five years old is old enough. But just not today."
"What if we're making all of the wrong decisions?" Dan asks.
Phil crosses to Dan and puts his hand on the back of the taller man's neck, "We're not. We're doing our best."
"I know but-" And Phil kisses him. Just the lightest brush of lips. It's enough to make Dan's brain shut up for a second.
"You're a good dad, Dan Howell, " is all Phil says. He knows it's what Dan needs to hear.
And later, when Sky reemerges from his room, he picks up the puzzle pieces in silence without having Dan or Phil tell him to do so. Then he takes Phil's hand and pulls him out of his chair to stand next to Dan. He puts his little arms around both of their legs, hugging them both at the same time. And Dan knows he's sorry. He started doing this when he first learned to walk. He'd put his arms on both Dan and Phil's shoulders and hold them together. It felt silly, because the little boy is so small. But still, it meant so much to Dan.
They eat dinner on the couch and watch a movie that Sky has seen over ten times. Phil puts him to bed early, reading the book about stars as always until he falls asleep. Dan watches from the doorway, taking it all in. Phil shuts the bedroom door quietly and they walk back to their bedroom together in silence.
"Not a bad day," Phil says, flopping onto his side of the bed.
"Not an amazing day either," Dan replies, slotting in next to Phil.
Phil shrugs, wrapping his arms around Dan, "It could have been worse."
"Don't remind me. I'm not ready for when it gets worse."
Phil pecks his cheek, "You will be."
They lie their together in the dark for a few minutes. Not sleeping, still in their jeans, but just enjoying a quiet moment by themselves. Just existing together. It's nice. Dan feels old and tired, but in a good way. He feels happy and content. He still doesn't feel like the best dad in the world, but that's okay because Phil has that covered.
He tells him that, "You're the best dad in the world, Phil."
"I think I'm average at best."
"No, really. You're amazing."
"Are you seriously making an AmazingPhil joke right now?"
"Not intentionally," Dan chuckles.
"Hey, Dan?" Phil mumbles, sleepily.
"Mhm?"
"Wanna do something fun?"
"What?"
"Take your clothes off and find out."
"That was not smooth, mate."
"Don't care. Too tired to be smooth."
"Then the something fun might have to wait, don't you think?"
"No," Phil replies, pawing at Dan's shirt, "Clothes off. I can stay awake."
Dan rolls over away from Phil and Phil whines at the loss of touch. Phil's eyes are almost closed all the way and Dan knows he'll be asleep in minutes. He puts on his pajamas and carefully takes of Phil's shirt and trousers, leaving him in his pants. He brushes his teeth and looks at himself in the mirror for too long, pulling at the wrinkles in his skin. He climbs back into bed with Phil, who's all the way asleep now. Dan slots himself next to Phil, pressing his body up against Phil. This is all he'll get tonight. But that's okay. There's all the time in the world for other things. This is all Dan needs tonight.