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For the longest time, he doesn’t want to ask. He really, really doesn’t.
He’s been spending as much time at Phil’s house as he can, because he doesn’t really care for being home anymore, even if he’s technically in the clear. It might be a different story if his parents knew where he’s been hanging out so frequently, but they haven’t bothered to ask.
He doesn’t want to make the situation about himself. It’s Phil who’d thrown himself into the ringer just to protect him; the last thing he needs to be thinking about is himself. It’s just that the whole thing had happened so suddenly, and so fast. Some things are still left unsaid.
It’s a Friday night in late October when he finally plucks up the courage. They’re making the most of the time they have alone in the house and by the time Phil rolls off of him, he feels just warm and hazy and safe and happy enough to spit it out without too much anxiety.
“I need to ask you something.”
Phil’s head rolls over towards him on the pillow, the dreamy glaze over his eyes being replaced by the soft attentiveness that Dan knows so well… and loves. Loves it a lot.
He sighs. “So… remember how you came out to your family?”
Phil huffs out a laugh and rolls all the way over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Vaguely, yeah,” his voice is laced with joking sarcasm. “Why?”
Dan breathes in a deep, cautious breath as he looks back at him, his eyes searching Phil’s. He sees the usual: the affection, the love, the kindness. That doesn’t go away, really. There’s just less ease now. He’s a little sharper, a little more attentive, a little less relaxed, even when it’s just the two of them. He hates being the reason behind it.
“When you did that, did you tell them about us?”
Phil just blinks down at him a couple times, shifts closer and pushes his fringe back. “No… I didn’t. I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He rests his head down again, close enough now that they’re sharing the same pillow. “Did you want me to?”
He doesn’t actually know the answer to that.
He thinks Phil gets it, because then there’s a soft press of lips to his cheek and a soft exhale tickling his neck. “They wouldn’t tell anyone, if they did know,” Phil tells him with a bit of a shrug, “But I would never tell them unless you told me it was okay.”
He wishes it could be okay. When it's just him and Phil, it's easy to pretend that everything really is okay. But it's not actually.
He’s not ready for anyone to know about him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be, and that scares him, but it's a fear he keeps shoved down as deep as possible. He’ll figure out how to deal with it eventually, but not now. Definitely not now.
His nose brushes against Phil’s when he turns his head to face him properly. “I really don’t want anyone to know,” he admits. “But I don’t like that you have to keep stuff from your family. I know that bothers you.”
Phil opens his mouth and Dan knows he’s just about to protest, so he cuts him off.
“It does, Phil. On some level. You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t.”
Phil shuts his mouth.
“Maybe a bit,” he sighs after about a minute of silence. “But this is a lot more important. A lot.”
Phil really is too good to him, sometimes. We wants to hug him and hold him and kiss him forever. Nothing’s scary when they’re alone together.
But they’re not - Phil’s mum’s car pulls into the driveway right then, and they’re up and half-dressed by the time they hear the front door swing open.
“Oh, Philip!” Martyn’s voice rings out from downstairs, and Dan sees Phil roll his eyes at the exaggerated key jangling. To be fair, Martyn has been a bit of a twat ever since he got his license. “Dinner’s home!”
“He acts like driving ten minutes to pick up a takeaway pizza is some big adult feat,” Phil grumbles under his breath, just to Dan before heaving out a sigh and calling back, “Be right down! Dan’s here too!”
“I can go,” Dan offers, tugging his hoodie on over his head. “I’ve stayed for dinner every night this week.”
Phil frowns. “Yeah, because I wanted you to,” he reminds him, and cups his hands over Dan’s cheeks before pulling him in for a warm, chaste kiss that somehow still leaves his knees feeling like they’re made of jelly. “So don’t be stupid,” he adds when he pulls back, and tugs Dan down the stairs with him.
*
They eat standing at the counter, crowded around the pizza box because Kath and Nigel are at the Isle for the weekend and neither brother can be arsed with doing the dishes, apparently
They find themselves stretched out on the sofa after that, with full bellies and tired eyes, only half paying attention to the movie Martyn’s playing for them on the TV. It’s Halloween, Dan’s pretty sure, but he’s too busy looking at Phil to really care. He’s still as cute as ever, even slouched over and trying to catch bits of popcorn in his mouth that Martyn tosses from the recliner. He catches a surprising majority of them, despite his charming lack of spatial awareness and coordination, and his heart swells with fondness. Martyn’s next throw misses Phil’s mouth by about a mile, landing instead in the flower vase on the coffee table. Phil’s tongue pokes out in between his teeth when he laughs and Dan could just about burst.
He’s not ready to come out yet, and that still hurts. Still, he shuffles closer to Phil’s side, until their shoulders bump together and Phil’s gaze flickers over, the smallest little grin taking over his features for just a second before he schools himself.
Everything else is still pretty shit. But he’s content to be in love.