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It's after the obligatory Skype call with his parents that Dan knows he needs to get out. He'd been asked to call for his dad's birthday, and he had supposed he couldn't really pull an excuse to get out of that one. But he'd been hoping for a least a pretend-happy call. Instead, his dad wouldn't stop ranting about his day at work, about how he'd had to put up with "the obviously gay guy" in the office, about these "annoying fucking queers".
Sometimes on bad days, Dan can confide in his flatmates. A few of them have good ears for listening if he feels shit about an assignment or just needs some chocolate. But he's not out to any of them, and he really feels right now like he needs to see someone who understands the pain of having to hear his dad rant about gay people with his closeted son on call.
He's not sure who he's trying to convince. It's a stupid justification. He just wants to see Phil. No matter the circumstance, Phil is the person who can always make him feel better. It doesn't really have anything to do with talking to another gay guy about it all. Well, there's no maybe about it. It actually has everything to do with the fact that Phil is his comfort, and when shit happens, it's Phil he wants. It's Phil's arms he wants to crawl into, it's Phil's lips he wants on his forehead, it's Phil's hand he wants in his hair.
Dan's had some regrets in his time, but he thinks getting the bus instead of a taxi tonight might be his biggest one. He really can't afford a taxi at the moment, but Phil's flat is far from the bus stop and it's been chucking it down with rain since he sat down on the bus. It actually helps him calm his thoughts, watching the water droplets race down the window while the bus drives through town, passing lit-up shops and seas of umbrellas.
He really should've gotten an umbrella. He's not even wearing a jacket, and he knows the second he gets off the bus he's going to be soaked through. It was a fairly mild night when he left his own flat, and he had no idea the weather would turn like this so suddenly.
Dan's never been so thankful for the shoes on his feet as he is when the bus stops in a puddle. He takes a deep breath as he steps out, immediately feeling the cold and wet. The hood on his Manchester University sweater gets pulled quickly over his head but it's only a few minutes before it's useless. In the end, he shakes the hood off again, heavy and wet against his back now while his hair quickly begins to gather water and drip down his face.
It's late when he reaches Phil's, nearly 11pm. He knows Phil probably won't be asleep, but the thought crosses his mind when he buzzes at Phil's flat. He doesn't even notice he's shivering until Phil answers from his flat and his teeth begin to chatter.
"Phil," he murmurs, shaking. "S'me, can you let me up?"
"Dan?" Dan can hear the worry in Phil's voice as he buzzes Dan inside the building.
Phil meets Dan halfway up the stairs and is quick to act.
"Dan, what the fuck, did you walk here or something?"
He's peeling Dan's soaked hoodie off and wrapping an arm around him, rubbing up and down in an attempt to warm Dan up.
"Got the bus," Dan breathes, immediately leaning into Phil and pressing his face into Phil's shoulder.
"Dan, Dan," Phil laughs a little pushing Dan's face up as much as he can, "You're soaked and freezing, get off."
Dan whines, pouting up at Phil.
"Don't look at me like that, go and get in the shower," Phil sighs, shaking his head and pressing a kiss to his temple. "I'll put the kettle on, okay?"
The words send a wave of comfort through Dan, and he remembers that it's Kath who had coined the comfort cuppa for him. He smiles fondly up at Phil.
"You sound just like your mum," he grins through shivers.
"My mother would slap you round the face if she saw you like that," Phil grumbles. "Go and warm up, idiot."
When Dan gets out the shower he heads straight into Phil's room, digging out his York University hoodie to replace his sad and soggy Manchester one. He pulls some sweatpants on to his legs and makes his way to the kitchen, where Phil is stood finishing some scrambled eggs, two steaming mugs sat on the side next to him.
Dan elects to sneak up behind Phil and press a kiss behind his ear. Phil must have heard him somewhere, because all Dan receives is a hum and a "hello, you". He'll never get used to the fondness of that gentle greeting, the one he's picked up for himself in the hopes of giving Phil the same flip-floppy feeling in his gut.
Dan presses another kiss on his neck and wraps his arms around Phil's waist.
"Hello," he whispers.
"I'm just making us some food, and then maybe you can tell me how you ended up on my doorstep looking like a drowned hobbit."
Dan pokes him in the rib for that and he squirms a tiny bit, sticking a leg out behind him to playfully kick Dan in the shin. Dan gives up in favour of grabbing two plates out the cupboard and retrieving the toast from Phil's toaster.
Soon enough they're sat against each other on Phil's tiny sofa, knees knocking together as they eat quietly. Eventually, Phil reaches over and cups that knee, stroking gently until Dan looks up at him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks softly.
Dan sighs and shrugs.
"It's just my dad," he says. "It was his birthday so I had to Skype them and he was just being... him."
Phil moves to take their empty plates before manoeuvring them so they're both lying down a little, Dan on top of Phil.
"I'm sorry, baby," Phil murmurs, running a hand through Dan's damp hair. "You deserve so much better." He leans down to press a kiss to Dan's forehead, and Dan curls into him a little more.
This is what he needed, a little bit of comfort from his favourite person. He begins to wrap his arms around Phil's waist and moves so he's entirely spread across Phil's body. Phil lets out an "oof" while Dan settles and he rolls his eyes, pecking Phil's lips in a mock apology.
They've been still for a few minutes when Dan murmurs, "you're a very good pillow."
He feels the rumble in Phil's chest before he hears it, and he nuzzles his face into Phil's chest like he's trying to get closer to it.
"I'm glad I'm good for something," Phil laughs, running another hand through Dan's hair. This time, he stops to scratch his nails over Dan's scalp and Dan whines, leaning into it like a cat. Phil giggles a little then, moving his hand around to gently scratch behind Dan's ear, on his cheek and chin, up to the back of his neck and a little under his shirt.
"Feels good," Dan whispers.
"Yeah?" Phil smirks a little. "Good like nice or good like sexy?"
Dan looks up at Phil with a frown then. "God, Phil get your mind out of the gutter." They share eye contact for a little while longer before Dan gives in. "Okay, fine, a bit of both. Are you happy?" Phil grins with his tongue sticking out between his teeth. He dusts a finger down Phil's side and makes him squirm. "It is mostly just nice though, you little shit."
Phil shrugs and resumes his little scratches. Dan can feel the tension leaving his body and settles down on to Phil's chest properly, dozing off a little.
It feels like five minutes later when Phil is nudging him awake and he's groaning as he twists on Phil's body.
"Mm, what?"
"Come on, baby, we'd better get you to bed," Phil pats Dan's back and begins to move.
"M'not that tired," Dan protests. Phil chuckles a little.
"Baby, you've been asleep on me for two hours, come on." He jabs Dan in the side to make him stir, and soon theyre padding through the flat to get to Phil's room.
Once settled in bed, Dan abandons his own pillow in favour of settling across Phil, curling an arm properly around his body and looping a leg through his. Phil hears his breathing begin to even out in the first few minutes, and smiles fondly as he presses a kiss to Dan's hair and turns off his lamp.
When Phil wakes up the next morning he feels awful. He is sweaty everywhere, and when he peeks open his eyes, he sees why. Dan is still sprawled across him, only now there are a couple of beads of sweat on his forehead and a flush on his cheeks. Phil rolls his eyes. He's not surprised that Dan's caught a cold after last night. He just knows he's now going to have to deal with a sick Dan, whatever that entails.
Checking his phone, he finds it's only 8am, so Dan probably won't stir for another couple of hours. He manages to gently guide Dan off of him and jump in the shower, washing the gross off. He gets dressed and writes a quick note for Dan, should he wake up.
When Phil gets back from the shops, he's kitted with tinned soup and honey. He decides he'd better check up on his boyfriend, and when he pokes his head round the door he finds Dan still asleep, moved to cuddle a real pillow now that Phil isn't there. He smiles softly and leaves Dan to it, deciding he'd better sort some laundry from yesterday.
Phil is folding up clothes in their kitchen when Dan emerges, hood up over his hair, frown on his face.
"Morning, baby," Phil says gently as Dan makes his way over. "How are you feeling?"
Dan sniffles and looks up at Phil forlornly. "I think I'm ill," he says quietly.
"Yeah, I think you might be," he smiles sympathetically. "That'll teach you to walk that far in the rain with no coat," he teases.
Dan just pouts at him, and Phil offers him another smile and slips an arm round his waist, squeezing.
"Come on," he says, "I got you some stuff."
"Oh?" Dan lights up a little. "Presents?"
"Well, if honey and soup are presents, sure," Phil shrugs.
They spend the day curled up on Phil's sofa under a blanket. In the end, Dan gives up on his protests about making Phil ill and allows himself the comfort of having his pillow back. Every now and then Phil gives Dan a quick kiss and a scratch of nails over his scalp, and Dan rolls his head back into the touch. In the end, Dan rolls his head back too far and loses balance, falling back into Phil's lap. It's not a bad turn of events, however, Dan finds. Phil's hand finds purchase back in Dan's hair and never leaves, offering scratches and tugs and gentle pats while Dan falls into a nap on him.
When Dan wakes up there's still a hand in his hair. Nails are scraping a little over the shell of his ear and he rolls over to shove his face in Phil's lap. It's too much sometimes, the affection Phil gives him. He can hear Phil laugh, tickling a little at the nape of his neck until Dan gives in and rolls over, squirming.
"Afternoon," Phil says teasingly.
"Mm," Dan replies. "You're warm."
"I think you'll find it's you who's warm," Phil says. "If I'm a human pillow then you're a... human radiator."
Dan coughs a laugh out then, sitting up so he's straddling Phil's legs, arms around his neck.
"Oh, not this 'he smells like warm' shit again," he says it in a mock-northern accent and Phil pokes him in the stomach.
"You do smell like warm," he replies indignantly. "And you also love that I think you do."
"Yeah alright, sap," Dan rolls his eyes fondly. His stomach rumbles then. "What was that you said about soup?"
"What did your last slave die of?" Phil grumbles as he carries two bowls of soup across to the sofa.
"Oh, you're my slave now?" Dan grins. "Kinky."
"Okay, I changed my mind, you're not getting any soup."
"No, no!" Dan stretches his arms out and makes grabby hands like a child. "Please, sweet and generous AmazingPhil, innocent and not in any way kinky, please give me my soup."
Phil grins over at Dan and hands him the bowl. He settles next to Dan with crossed legs, and grins. "And I am kinky in some ways," he shrugs. "I'm just not into being a slave."
Dan chokes on his soup a little then.
"God, Phil, what will all your fans think?"
"That I'm lying through my innocent teeth, obviously."
Dan rolls his eyes and flops his head gently on Phil's shoulder, settling to eat his soup and probably fall asleep into another nap. He's managed to forget yesterday's drama a while, and even remembering it now doesn't fill him with any negative emotions. He just lets his head sit on Phil's shoulder, and lets the comfort wash over him.