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Phil really thought they could handle it. He’s so used to working on an endless to-do list, not stopping until it’s finished— and it’s never finished, so he never stops. He really thought the book and the tour and everything would be not only something they could handle, but something they could conquer. Thrive…
But it’s too much. And the audience hated it anyways. They hate it even though the book isn’t out yet and the tour hasn’t begun.
And Phil is tired. And Dan’s brain is sinking into that dark place he’s been working so damn hard to pull it out from.
And it’s all just too fucking much.
Phil can still hear Dan’s sharp words ringing in his ears. He can still see the angry eyes, the deep frown. He’s trying to block out his own mean words. He knows he’d been unfair. They’d fought about something stupid that turned into fighting about everything and now they’re cooling off in their designated rooms and Phil doesn’t feel angry at all anymore. He just feels tired, and sad.
He doesn’t realise he’s fallen asleep until he hears Dan knocking on his door. He hates that. Hates that Dan feels like he has to knock. Hates that it’s such a timid one.
“Yeah,” he says, half yawn.
Dan opens the door. He looks as tired as Phil feels. Phil sits up.
“I’m so stupid,” Dan says.
“Shut up,” Phil frowns. He holds out a hand, and feels infinitely better when Dan steps inside towards him. “I am.”
“We both are.”
“Fine.”
Phil reaches behind Dan’s neck to pull him forward. He kisses him, and it’s heavier than either of them probably meant. When they pull away they both have tear-stained cheeks.
Dan joins Phil on the bed. He starts something that sounds like an apology and Phil kisses him again.
“We just need to rest more. We need to talk. We need to make sure things don’t build up and bubble over,” Dan says. Phil thinks it sounds like paraphrased therapy talk, and also that Dan isn’t wrong. He falls asleep again soon after, but wakes up feeling actually rested for the first time in days.