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Nights like these are hard, the ones where his thoughts are impossible to ignore.
It’s not uncommon for Dan to wake up in the middle of the night. In fact, after the uneventful day he’s had, he’s surprised he was able to get any sleep at all.
Over the last twenty-four hours he had spent most of his time lying wide awake in bed. He wanted to get up and do something, but his brain was full of every anxious thought he’d bottled up for the past week and before he knew it, he had wasted a whole day.
Phil came to check on him a few times. He still has a habit of pretending to be asleep even though he’s fully aware that it hasn't worked on Phil in years. His thoughts were too overwhelming. He didn’t have the energy or the motivation to do anything other than hug his pillow and hide from the world.
He doesn’t feel much better now, at least he’s managed to get out of bed. He stumbles blindly into the bathroom and flips the light on, catching sight of the reflection of someone who has disregarded his physical needs one too many days in a row.
He has a greasy mess of a bedhead and he has prominent bags under his eyes. It’s almost comical to him, how easy it is for him to get to this point. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but it never goes away. His thoughts will always be there to haunt him, remind him that he’ll never be good enough for anyone, not even himself.
It’s nights like these when it’s hard to push those thoughts aside. The rational side of him knows it isn’t true, but the sleep deprived, self-loathing side of him only affirms these claims. He can’t help but feel disgusted when he meets his own eyes in the mirror.
His mind is racing again. It’s times like these that he wishes his brain had an off switch so that he could send it all away, so he could stop belittling himself.
But he knows that’s not how it works. He’s tried all his life to run away, but it never leaves. Sooner or later, he has to confront it. All of it.
He starts running cold water and places his hand under the faucet to test the temperature. He’s suddenly aware of the fact that his throat is really dry and he can’t remember the last time he drank any water. He makes a mental note to go downstairs and get a glass later.
Then he grows impatient, cupping his hands to gather some water and splashing it on his face. He sighs as the water drips down, the cooling sensation sending the notion of sleep further to the back of his mind. He knows a shower would be more appropriate, but this is good enough for now. He feels adequate in this moment.
He isn't perfect, but he is enough.
He is worthy.
He looks into the mirror, into the eyes of the disheveled man he's still learning to love, taking in a deep breath and letting it fall from his lips, followed by two words, spoken quietly, for the first time. They echo into the empty bathroom and fill his ears with a newfound comfort.
"I'm gay."
He doesn’t have as much of an emotional reaction as he had hoped. He’s never said it out loud before, but it doesn’t feel surprising or scary anymore. It feels right.
He lets a laugh that sounds more like a stuttered exhale than anything else. This feels like the first of many steps for him, even if it’s just being honest with himself alone in his bathroom.
That’s when he hears footsteps approaching. He turns to the doorway to see Phil standing there, half asleep and looking like even more of a mess than he does.
He knows Phil has his own struggles, and he can’t always be there to focus on Dan’s. Sometimes they have to face things alone, but seeing him standing in the doorway with a goofy grin on his face makes him feel less alone.
They seem to have the same idea, because they both break out into quiet laughter at the sight of each other.
Dan is grateful for the split-second smile he felt etching onto his lips.
“What are you doing up?” Phil asks, brushing his hair out of his face.
Dan shrugs. “I never know the answer to that question to be honest.” The sigh he lets out doesn’t escape Phil’s attention, and Dan can see the look on his face in the mirror.
“Are you okay?”
Phil hugs him from behind after asking the question, clearly not needing a response to know that he isn’t.
He’s better than before, but this isn’t the end.
They stare at each other’s reflections, exchanging an unspoken understanding. It’s comforting, and Dan is feeling brave again.
“Phil?”
Phil hums, and Dan can feel the soft vibration against his neck where it’s pressed against Phil’s. He grips Phil’s arms and pulls them closer around him, like a blanket. It makes him feel safe, like he could say anything in this moment and everything will be okay somehow.
He still has fears, but none involving Phil. He knows he can tell him anything. He has enough confidence left that he’s able to say it one more time.
“I’m…” He hesitates, but refuses to say ‘nevermind’ for the thousandth time.
”I’m gay.”
Phil smiles. Dan can’t help but let out a chuckle.
“And I think that’s amazing.” Phil says. “You know I love you no matter what, right?’
Dan nods.
“Yeah.” His voice is merely a whisper now. “I know.”