Chapter Text
Dan woke up with his breath caught in his chest and his bedroom lights on, glaring into his face. “Phil,” he grumbled, wrinkling his face and putting his hands over his eyes. “Turn it off.”
There was soft laughter coming from directly next to Dan’s ear and he yelped, jumping and whipping his head around, eyes still shut. No one was there; he couldn’t hear a heartbeat or smell anything. The light clicked off and Dan opened his eyes, his pupils widening dramatically as they adjusted and he glared at the door. “You’re an asshole,” he announced to his best friend and flatmate.
Phil, his arms crossed over his chest, laughed. “But Dan, you’re so fun to mess with when you’re waking up! All squinty and grumbly… it’s like catnip for pixies, like pixie-nip or something!”
Dan rolled his eyes before reaching over to the nightstand and picking up the bottle of coconut water he’d left there. He took a long drink from it, feeling the liquid run through his system and wake him from the near-comatose state he entered every time the sun rose. “Go away before I pretend you’re catnip for vampires,” he retorted.
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone,” Phil answered with a sigh, but Dan could still hear the grin in his voice. “But dress nicely tonight, yeah? Everyone’s coming over soon.” He left Dan’s room, closing the door behind him.
“You should dress nicely, not me,” Dan muttered, getting out of bed.
“I heard that!” Phil shouted from the sitting room and Dan groaned. He forgot that Phil had weird supersensory hearing.
He stood in front of his open wardrobe now, setting his half-drunk coconut water on top of it as he scanned over his options. He hadn’t forgotten about the get-together that he and Phil were hosting tonight: not only was it rare for them to have more than just the two of them in their flat at a time, but tonight was different.
Pulling a soft, black cotton shirt off of its hanger, Dan pulled it on and left it for all of ten seconds before pulling it off again and letting it drop to the floor. The worst part about being a vampire, he thought, was having what was undoubtedly a great fashion sense, but being unable to see yourself in anything you wanted to wear. He eventually settled on a black-and-white paisley shirt and black jeans with - you guessed it - black socks. “Phil?” he called.
Within moments, Phil was opening Dan’s bedroom door and poking his head in. “Yeah?”
“Do my hair for me?” Dan asked, turning to face him with a sheepish smile.
“All right, the straightener is in my room, come on,” he said, turning and letting Dan follow him across the hall and down a bit to his own room. Dan squinted in the brightness of the hall, knowing he’d have to get used to it before everyone arrived. He sat down on the edge of Phil’s bed, waiting as he pulled out the straightener and brush before kneeling down to be on eye-level with Dan. “I dunno why you have to straighten it out, it looks fine curly,” Phil said. He turned the straightener on and went to work, brushing out Dan’s fringe before taking the flat-iron to it.
“Because I’m sure it looks ridiculous, Phil, I remember that much from before I was turned.” Dan didn’t often talk about being turned, though he would bring it up as a joke occasionally, as his situation was a bit unique. Most vampires were created on purpose by someone they would refer to as their Maker, and the newly-born vampires would spend quite a few years with their Maker before moving on. Dan’s creator bit him and ran. He had been ambushed by a vampire on a late night when he didn’t need to be out anyway, and he was supposed to be a snack. Unfortunately, the vampire did it wrong and ended up turning Dan. He never got to meet the person who’d created him; once the other vampire had realized what they had done, they’d fled the scene. It had only happened two years ago, while he was living with Phil, but Dan would like to think that he was dealing with his vampire status just fine, for not having a proper Maker and all.
“All done!” Phil announced, smiling at Dan with his small, sharp teeth showing. He brushed Dan’s fringe to the side to make sure it was parted the way he liked it, then nodded, getting up and putting everything away.
Dan reached up and touched his hair, smiling without his teeth showing; he could feel his fangs poking out from his gums like they always did when he got too close to Phil or to humans. “Thanks, it feels like you did a good job with it.”
The doorbell rang and both men stilled for a second: Phil was listening for any sign of who it could be and Dan was turning his head, inhaling deeply. “It’s Louise!” Dan exclaimed, the first to know from how she smelled, and he grinned triumphantly. “I’ll get it!” He leapt to his feet and made it to the door in a few seconds, eager to see one of his good friends.
“Dan Howell!” Louise exclaimed as he opened the door, and Dan was too excited to notice that Louise had her vlogging camera out; he swept her up in a hug as soon as she’d crossed the threshold, letting his nerves for the night seep out of him while Louise hugged him back, laughing. “Goodness, you’re affectionate today,” she commented, stepping back and smiling as she aimed her camera at the floor so that it wouldn’t pick up the fact that, well, there was nothing for it to pick up where Dan stood.
“I’m really nervous,” he admitted, his hands wringing themselves out in front of him. “This is such a big thing, Louise, I really hope it works out.”
Louise smiled at Dan, patting his shoulder comfortingly, and Dan felt a tiny brush of her magic run through him. “I think it’ll all be fine, Dan, don’t worry so much.”
Before Dan could muster up a reply, Phil appeared from around the corner. “Hi Louise!” he greeted her, rushing forward to give her a hug. Dan took a step back and noticed with a smile that Phil’s ears were wiggling like they might fall off. He hid a wider grin behind his hand; he knew that underneath her hair, Louise’s were probably doing the same. Pixies and fey folk didn’t normally get along, but Phil and Louise -- and PJ as well, Dan remembered -- got on splendidly. And whenever similarly-blooded magical creatures got in physical contact with each other, it would result in some sort of gesture particular to their own kind.
“Right, let’s get everything set up!” Dan announced. He needed to do something or he was going to wring his own hands straight out of existence. He led the way back upstairs, followed by Phil and Louise, who were giggling and talking quietly behind him.
- - -
Two hours later, Dan and Phil’s sitting room had a record-breaking amount of six total people in it, as well as a plethora of appropriate snacks that were nearly depleted, as everyone had arrived only half an hour after Louise. There was sushi and seaweed crisps for Zoe; milk and sweets for PJ and Louise; fresh fruits for Phil; pizza for Alfie; and extra coconut water for Dan. Fairy lights were strung up around the room and a few of the softer lights that they owned were on, so it was brighter than Dan would have liked but not so bright that he couldn’t stand it. The television was playing softly in the background, currently showing adverts while the group waited for the final verdict of the night.
Dan meandered away from the wall he had been leaning against and went up to talk to Zoe and Alfie, having only spoken to them once earlier in the night when they had arrived. “How are you two doing?” he asked, keeping his voice low and a polite smile on.
Zoe beamed at him and Dan had to blink hard to clear the sudden fog in his brain. “I’m doing well, thanks, Dan! I’m really hopeful about this, for once, I don’t feel so anxious, you know?” she said. Her blue eyes looked lovely underneath the lights and Dan blinked again, remembering that Zoe was new to a lot of the effects she had on others.
“Yeah mate, I think this is gonna be a good one!” Alfie replied, clapping a hand on Dan’s shoulder. That brought Dan back a bit, though he had to take a quick sip from his drink. It was harder to be around humans than it was to be around nonhumans; humans tended to look and smell better to Dan, whereas his other friends weren’t nearly as appealing. “What do you think’ll happen?”
Dan shrugged, not wanting to get his hopes up despite the way he was feeling. “I mean, anything could happen. Both sides had great arguments, you can’t really deny that. MacVicar’s a huge asshole, but what else is new?” he commented.
Zoe pulled a face at the mention of the name MacVicar and added, “He really should just retire. I can’t believe he was voted back into office after his dreadful speeches last term.”
“Right? Jesus Christ, I want to find the people who keep voting for him and let them know that they’re voting for a person who is literally a piece of trash.”
Alfie and Zoe laughed and Dan cracked a smile, nodding as he left, as Zoe had turned to Louise now. Dan made his way back to his spot on the wall, noticing that PJ was there as well, munching on some of the sweet bread that had still been on the table. “How’s it going?” he asked, smiling over as Dan stood next to him.
“Better than I thought,” Dan confessed, looking down at his feet. There were plant vines on the floor and Dan resisted the urge to snort out a laugh; those were Phil’s experiments and they’d somehow come from his bedroom and into the sitting room. He would be proud of that. “I dunno how good a chance we have of winning.”
PJ turned to look at Dan, his green eyes flashing bright for a second before they returned to normal. “You’re just trying to not get your hopes up,” he stated matter-of-factly, and Dan grimaced.
“Don’t do that weird mind-reading thing on me!”
“It can really come in handy, you know,” PJ replied, grinning mischievously. His teeth were larger than Phil’s but sharper, more dangerous-looking. Fey rarely used their teeth unless it was an emergency situation, and Dan knew firsthand how painful a bite could be; he would never want to be on the business end of those. He wondered how Sophie dealt with that.
Dan huffed out a sigh, pretending to be irritated even though he really wasn’t. “Yeah, for fucking round with your friends, I know.”
“I wouldn’t say that, I would -- “
“Guys, guys, it’s coming back on!” Phil said excitedly, interrupting any and all conversations that had been happening in the room. Everyone’s heads turned to face the television screen, on which a woman with greying hair black as a cast-iron pot was reading from a single sheet of paper. Dan felt his heart sink; he knew that single sheets were never a good sign.
“We have reached a decision on bill fourteen-twenty-nine,” she announced, her mouth set in a firm line. “The bill fails on a count of thirty to fifteen to five, with thirty against, fifteen for, and five abstaining.” The television suddenly shut off but Dan didn’t look up, his eyes glued to the now-black screen.
The silence of the room was deafening with the way it fell on Dan’s ears; he looked away from the screen after a moment to glance at each of his friends in turn. Zoe’s face was buried in Alfie’s chest, her shoulders shaking. Alfie was holding her close, his eyes red-rimmed but face set like stone. Louise had her arms wrapped around her stomach, trying to hold herself together, but Dan could see a few tears rolling down her face. Next to him, PJ had gone entirely still without taking in a single breath. And standing in the center of the room was Phil, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, his expression uncharacteristically hard. Seeing his friends this way was probably what prompted Dan to speak. “This is fucking bullshit.”
Everyone’s eyes fell on Dan; Zoe even lifted her head from Alfie’s chest and turned to look at him, her makeup smudged around her eyes and tear tracks visible on her cheeks. There was a hard anger burning in Dan’s chest where his heart no longer beat, bubbling up in his throat as his empty hand clenched into a fist. “They can’t just do that! They can’t - they can’t decide our fate as if we’re somehow less than them! That bill was supposed to make it safer for us, it was supposed to protect us - and you know what? That decision was made a by a room full of uneducated, ignorant humans. How is that fucking fair?”
“There’s nothing we can do right now, Dan,” Louise said softly. It was only when he heard Louise’s voice in contrast to his own that Dan realized he had been shouting. She walked across the room and stood to the other side of Dan, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Her magic was leaking like a liquid through her palm and into his shirt, under his skin - it felt itchy, and he shrugged her hand off, shaking his head minutely. “We need to call it a night, it’s getting late and - and none of us should go outside until morning, most likely.”
Dan’s eyes swung to Phil, who had pasted a falsely-bright smile on his face. “It’s settled, then. Zoe and Alfie, you can take Dan’s room, PJ can sleep in my bed with me, and Louise, I’ll take you to the office.” Louise left Dan’s side, casting him one last look before following Phil, who had already left and was thumping noisily down the stairs.
Zoe sniffed softly and Dan looked over at her, feeling a twist in his gut. God, he’d forgotten how much Zoe hated it when people yelled. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words feeling out of place on his tongue, in the heaviness of the room.
She shook her head, giving Dan a watery smile. “It’s okay,” she replied. She looked up at Alfie and tugged on his hand. Alfie gave a wave to Dan and PJ before he let Zoe lead him down the hall; Dan heard the door to his bedroom close a few moments later.
“I know how you’re feeling,” PJ said from beside Dan. Turning his head to look, Dan frowned and was about to open his mouth when PJ shook his head. “No, I - I know. I really do. Empath, remember?” He smiled tightly and Dan returned it, clapping his friend once on the back before PJ left for Phil’s room.
With a heavy sigh, Dan plopped down on the couch and pulled out his phone. He didn’t turn it on or unlock it, he just turned the device over and over in his hands, needing something to fiddle with.
“Dan?” Phil asked, and Dan didn’t even need to look up to know it was him, but he did anyway. He looked exhausted, his face paler than usual and the bags under his eyes colored purple like bruises. “Could you take care of this stuff? I’m really tired. I need to sleep this off.”
“Course, Phil.” He got up, pausing as Phil just looked at him. “I’m sorry I freaked out, I just - I got so angry, you know? It’s just, it’s not… it’s not right.”
Phil nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face and exhaling slowly as he levelled his gaze with Dan’s. “I know. We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” he asked. “Goodnight, be productive.” He smiled slightly and then shuffled down the hall to his room, closing the door and leaving Dan awake with his thoughts.
Dan tidied up the plates and platters on the table, making two trips to clean everything up properly. He packed away the leftovers, marking the containers appropriately for each of their friends, so they’d have something to take home. The dirty dishes got rinsed and stuck in the dishwasher, which Dan ran as soon as it was full. He leaned against the counter and pulled his phone out again, unlocking it to scroll through Twitter. There was virtually nothing on the topic, save for a vague tweet or two with the hashtag “#PassTheBill” from a few of the UK-based celebrities that Dan followed. The fact that no one was talking about it inspired Dan to tap out a quick, angry tweet: “the rights of any species shouldn’t be up for debate. #PassTheBill”. He didn’t pause before sending it, knowing that he would probably get some negative reactions for it, but he didn’t care about that. Anyone who had been following Dan on twitter or even YouTube knew that Dan was classed as a magical creature; he hadn’t disclosed that he was a vampire, simply because they were considered to be dangerous, but his fans seemed to have fun trying to guess.
The dishwasher behind Dan made a gurgling noise, bringing him back to the present, and Dan left the kitchen, flicking the light off as he went. He sat down on the sofa, a blanket thrown over him, and turned the television on but muted it as he flipped through the channels. Every news station was reporting about the bill and the majority of them were in favor of it being failed. Dan scowled, shutting the stupid television off and shutting his eyes. His anger was no longer fresh, but it was almost sunrise and Dan didn’t want to pass out while he was still angry and had no solution.
It was only when the first rays of sunlight were starting to peek through the drawn curtains that Dan had just enough of an idea to put a smile on his face. Things were going to change if it worked, and Dan would be at the center of it.