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maybe they would like his changes.
maybe they wouldn't.
nothing was ever clear-cut for dan. it had to be hot-and-cold, constantly changing and never quite opaque enough for him. after so many years of the same kind of thing, he wondered if he was the problem.
it wasn't that he didn't know what he wanted. it wasn't that he was stubborn, or at least that stubborn. he was hesitant, sure, but it wasn't like he was indecisive. he prided himself on being a perfectionist, and that meant making decisions sometimes, even if he didn't want to.
maybe that's what landed him in this moment.
the blue light from his laptop burned into his corneas as he zoned out. the room's lighting being dimmed only worsened the pain of his eyes, and somehow perfectly encapsulated the feeling of burnout and hopelessness he was feeling.
he just had to wait for an email back. they would email him back. they would, because they had every time before. even if it didn't go his way, they always answered.
the burning itch of self-doubt crawled its way back into his cerebral cortex the longer he tried to assure himself that they would get back to him. his finger idled on the trackpad of the laptop, over the refresh icon on the tab.
it was half past 1 in the morning for him, but he would get an email back. they were probably writing it as he was thinking, about to send it as he would refresh his email inbox.
for a moment, he considered emailing them again, if he didn't get a response back the next time he refreshed the page. he considered his dignity, the desperation he would possibly exude if he sent them something else not long after his last time reaching out.
but words are subjective. desperation isn't objective for everyone.
he looked up at the doorway as phil walked into the bedroom. even in the dark, dan could feel the soft pity in phil's eyes as he watched him. he must look insane, endlessly refreshing his email inbox in the middle of the night, waiting for something he was so sure would come.
"is it easier to expect disappointment, or hope for good news?" looking at nothing for so long, dan's voice didn't sound like his own when it left his body.
phil walked over to dan, sighing quietly and running his fingers through dan's stress-mussed hair.
"i don't know."
either dan was really going crazy, or phil's voice sounded just as foreign and detatched. the touch was the same, gentle and understanding. his physical form usually yielded some sort of second wind in dan, except tonight it didn't. it felt like the anxiety on dan's behalf that oozed from phil was pooling in his fingers, ready to transfer that energy to dan's tired scalp and drip into his psyche.
"you need rest," phil commented quietly. he knew dan was thinking, dragging himself into a wake of self-indulgent personal criticism. phil imagined dan walking into the waters slowly, letting himself stand up to his hips in the murky liquid. he would speak into the liquid, and it would speak back. every tear that dan shed would add to the pool. sometimes the depths grew twice their original size when dan pulled himself out of his mind, and sometimes the dark fluid stayed the same, warbling aimlessly, hoping some of its words would meet dan's ears.
they both knew it was worst at night, when dan was forced to ignore the usual evidence of his otherwise gifted existence. it was easy to forget about the pleasantries of the world when the only things that persisted in your dreams were the negatives you pushed down in favor of functionality.
dan didn't respond. he knew he needed to sleep, but a mite in the back of his mind still told him that keeping himself up just a little longer would reward him with validation.
phil reached forward and slowly took the laptop off dan's lap, closing it and setting it on the bedside table. dan's hands relaxed only slightly, pressing his fingers into the soft comforter over him in an attempt to ground himself.
it was quiet, and dan knew phil was watching him to see if he could do anything to help. he was careful to give dan his space, only stepping in if dan showed that he needed someone else there with him. his hand had moved to the back of dan's neck, using the pads of his fingers to make small circles in the skin.
"what if they never respond?" dan's voice was small, timid. without the screen in front of him to pacify him, he was beginning to lose hope.
"then i'll be here to help you," phil whispered, letting dan lean his head into his abdomen. the response wasn't much of an answer, but phil cradling dan's head in his arms was the only thing dan was focused on at that moment.
he closed his eyes and let himself be, for a minute.
the stress of the past few months was bringing dan back to when the two of them first met, when dan was so unsure of himself. phil was the first person to tell him that he was worth something, and it was scary to confront the fact that someone liked him enough to say it out loud. being 18 and in love, pursuing a major he knew he wouldn't enjoy, trying something he wasn't confident would work out. it was a trust fall he wasn't sure would work out, and there was only one person willing to stay with him through it all.
"you'll always be here, right?" dan's eyes were closed, but tears still managed to slip through. he felt weak, like when he would cry in front of his father and he would tell him to man up. when they first started living together, phil would stroke dan's hair when he would collapse from stress and tell him everything his father wouldn't. he was finally worth something to somebody, and enough of him.
"of course i will."
after 12 years, dan was still doing those blind trust falls, and phil was still beside him. it was strange, thinking sobbing into your partner was romantic.
it wasn't the crying. it was the vulnerability.
phil just held him, like their touch was the only thing keeping them both from disappearing completely.
that murmur of dan's father's voice was still in his ear was telling him he was weak, but he couldn't bring himself to fully listen to any of it.
"love you," phil whispered, leaning down to kiss the crown of dan's head.
dan nodded and phil climbed over him into bed. dan's hands never left phil's body, and phil didn't mind.
"you've done a good job today, dan. go to sleep for me, yeah?"
dan pulled himself against phil's back and grumbled a response. he would figure things out tomorrow, when the world didn't feel so scary.
and phil would still be there with him, to guide him all the way.