Chapter Text
You had nowhere else to go.
It was late, your phone was dead.
All you had was the backpack on your shoulder and an old ratty suitcase with only one wheel.
You were walking the streets of London in the dark.
No one was around, and it was better that way.
What would you tell someone if they asked you what you were doing - if you had a home to go to?
Other than 'no'.
You were in a daze.
Only hours ago you felt safe and warm, now you were cold and alone.
You wander into an Underground station, lingering on the escalators for warmth.
You have a small handful of coins that can buy you a ticket.
But you're not sure how far the meagre amount of cash will get you.
Not far enough, you know that without checking.
And anyway, where could you go?
You know no one in the city, you've only been here a matter of months.
Your parents are definitely not an option - even if you could somehow get a train all the way to them.
And your brother is even further away.
You have nowhere to go...
Unless.
There was that address your brother made you memorise.
Before he let you move to this huge city, far from everything and everyone you know...
The address of an old friend of his, from his uni days.
The only person he knows that lives here, the only life-ring he could offer you.
You can't even remember their name.
But you remember the address.
Without a phone to look it up, you resort to the paper folded maps of London from a booth in the station.
It's not like you've got a reason to rush - unless you want to get arrested for loitering or vagrancy.
Both of which are true, you suppose.
So hurriedly, you scan the creased paper until you find it.
Then it's just a case of working out a tube route - but years in London have made that second nature.
And it needs to be second nature, because the night slipping by.
You are so tired, so exhausted, and not just physically.
You get on the train and nearly fall asleep leaning against the window; carefully avoiding the bruise at your temple.
Somehow you make it to the stop that's as close to the address as you can manage - the address you have tattooed inside your brain.
Quietly you thank your brother as you step off the train and wonder what he'd say if he saw you now.
You nearly start to cry, but hold back the tears by biting your lip hard.
You can't cry here, you are not safe - not yet.
Just a little longer, with some luck and prayers.
You limp out of the station and start walking, following a vague memory of that paper map.
You couldn't bring it, you couldn't buy it - so memory it is.
If you get lost, there is no plan B.
Just this address hovering in your memory like a lingering hug from your brother.
A final shred of hope, a pinprick of light in the darkest night of your life.
You have no idea how long it takes, how many hours it has been since your life got turned upside down.
You don't know if it's midnight or 4am by the time you stumble onto the street.
Your eyes, blinking back sleep, gaze around looking for the house number.
The number that had been written in an email so long ago.
Finally you find it, there is a light on in a window upstairs and the sight of it almost makes you weep.
You nearly trip over the step, but then you are there and you knock.
Once, twice, three times you knock.
In the silence, with the sound of a distant car alarm, you wonder what the hell are you going to say.
Hi, I'm the sibling of this old friend of yours and I have no where else to go, please let me in?
Why would they believe you?
Why would they open their home to you?
A stranger.
Nobody...
Just desperate.
The door opens.
A face, that is worryingly blurry, swimming in and out of focus, peering down at you from a brightly lit hall.
"Hello?" He asks, "Can I- help you?" He looks concerned.
You're not entirely sure why.
"P-please tell me you k-knew a Jayden at uni?" You croak out; your throat is dry.
"I barely went to uni, might you be looking for Phil?" The brown-haired man frowned.
He turned and hollered over his shoulder into the house. "Phil! Get out here!"
You can't help it: you collapse.
He catches you and repeats his yell, at bit more frantic this time, and you flinch at the loudness of his voice.
Another man appears, looming over you as you lie half on the threshold, half in the arms of the first man.
"Are you alright?" He asks urgently, kneeling down beside you both but his gaze fixed on you.
His hand darts out as if to touch your arm but pulls back without making contact.
You tear up at his concern that you are not worthy of but your mouth fails to voice a response.
His blue eyes look past you to your tattered over-stuffed bags, that fell when you did, then move over your head to meet the eyes of the other man.
They must decide something, because suddenly they are both in motion.
The first one half carries, half drags you inside and props you against the wall of their hallway.
The other one, Phil, grabs your bags and heaves them inside with ease.
They shut the door and turn to face you.
You feel yourself shaking.
"They mentioned a friend from uni, Jay-something?" The first one, you still haven't learned his name, says to Phil.
"Dan, go get them some water."
So that's the other guy's name - good to know.
Phil and Dan.
No, Dan and Phil.
A faint memory pings from somewhere distant, but your head is too foggy to process anything.
Phil kneels beside you again, he gently - so gently - reaches out to brush a stray hair from your sweaty forehead; you flinch away from his touch.
He frowns, withdraws his hand, and mercifully doesn't comment; even as you blush from embarrassment and study the floor.
Just as Dan appears with a glass half full of water, Phil asks a question.
"Were you asking if I knew a Jayden?"
You nod, gratefully sipping some water that Dan offers to you but does not fully let go of.
His hands support the glass more than your trembling fingers do, and you try to smile gratefully at him but it comes out more of a grimace.
"I haven't spoken to him in years." Phil murmurs, half to himself and half to Dan - whose gaze is flicking nervously between the two of us.
"So you do know that person?" Dan comments, you think he sounds relieved; he's looking at Phil - who nods - but you answer anyway.
"He's my brother."
"I knew he had a sibling. I've never met them." Phil responds, neutrally.
The two men exchange glances again and you can tell that they are trying to decide whether to trust you.
"Do you have anywhere to go?" Phil asks you quietly.
You wince at that dreaded question and silently shake your head, not daring to meet their eyes.
"Why are you just walking around at this time of night?" Dan questions next, his words quick-fire and anxious.
"Is this all you have?" Phil adds with a worried frown.
He is pointing to your bags, they look so sad and small in the light.
"Yes and yes." You whisper, working very hard not to cry.
"What happened?" Dan frowns, his voice soft despite his wariness.
"My partner kicked me out." You explain briefly, your tone flat and you shrug - ignoring how it hurts to move your shoulder. "I tried a queer shelter first, then a DV shelter, but they couldn't help. Before I moved to London my brother made me memorise your address just in case... I used my last few quid to get here."
They look at each other again.
"Finish up that water, okay? We're gonna figure something out." Phil smiles tightly.
They both stand up and start to walk a little ways down the hall.
As you sip the water, trying desperately not to spill it as your hands are still shaking, you can hear them.
They are whispering, but their voices echo off the wall in such a narrow space.
You can't help but hear what they are saying.
"Jayden is a good guy-"
"He gave out our address to a total stranger!"
"To his sibling! In case they needed somewhere to go! Dan, they flinched away from me. They mentioned a DV shelter. They were walking the streets in the middle of the night!"
"So we should call the police, or an ambulance..."
Dan glances along the hallway at you and you fervently try to look like you aren't listening; you can feel his gaze linger on you for a moment.
"They came here, Dan. Jayden lives in Germany now and I don't think either of them are close with their parents. They said their partner kicked them out."
"What are you suggesting?! That we let them stay here!?" Came the hissed reply.
That was it, you'd had enough.
Holding back a groan, you push against the wall and try to stand on trembling legs.
Within an instant, both of them are next to you - so tall they fill the space and you reflexively curl in to make yourself smaller.
Phil catches hold of your arm when your weight slips and you grit your teeth not to scream as he unknowingly presses against hand-shaped bruises.
"What are you doing?" He asks anxiously.
"Leaving. You don't deserve this. I'm sorry for disturbing you, I'll be going now."
"Wait." Dan spoke then, moving to stand between you and the door.
He flicks his eyes to Phil, who is motionless, then leans towards you and speaks low - concern painted with a wide brush all over his expression.
"Do you have anywhere else to go tonight? Do you have a plan if you walk out of here?" He murmurs.
"One night on the streets is not going to kill me." You look him dead in the eye, trying to infuse your words with confidence - half trying to convince yourself.
You know that Phil, with his fingers at your elbow, can feel how much you are shaking.
"I'll figure something out in the morning, but I know I am not going to stay here and be a burden. Thank you for the water, goodnight."
You somehow pull your arm out of Phil's grip and collapse as soon as you take one step.
You wake, dizzy with a mouth like a desert, and quickly realise you have no idea where you are.
As you raise your head, the room spins slightly but you notice two people asleep on the sofa across from the one you lie on.
Then as your vision comes back into focus, you realise that you remember them.
And just as you remember them, you remember everything that happened the day before...
Yesterday, judging by the faint light coming through the blinds at the window - it stings your eyes, or maybe that's the tears.
Your gaze drifts back to your two saviours and you notice they are awake and looking back at you.
You stare at them, lost for words, but they both smile.
Phil's smile is encouraging, Dan's seems more begrudging.
They stand, Dan gathering up the blanket that had been thrown over both of their long bodies, and step towards you.
Slowly, you sit up too, pressing one hand against your aching head, and look up at them.
Mercifully for the sake of your neck, they sit - Dan perches on the edge of the coffee table in front of you and Phil seats himself on the arm of the sofa by your feet.
"You let me stay?" You whisper; this all feels like a dream.
Does that make the last 24 hours a nightmare?
"We couldn't very well toss you out into the street while you were unconscious, could we?" Dan remarks.
You freeze up instantly, unintentionally gripping the blanket that had been carefully draped across you.
"And we're not going to do it now you're awake either." Phil chimes in, throwing a scolding look at Dan.
He shrugs an apology and you force yourself to unclench your hands.
"So we never actually got your name last night?" Phil points out with a kind smile.
You notice that the corners of his eyes crinkle when he's smiling.
"Oh, sorry-"
"Don't apologise." Dan interrupts with an odd look on his face.
You might say it's guilt, but there's something that looks like recognition mixed in his expression.
"My name's y/n." You murmur. "I use they/them pronouns." You add, even quieter.
You avoid their gazes but look up in surprise when they introduce themselves.
"My name's Phil. I use he/him pronouns."
"My name is Dan."
Phil chuckles and Dan scowls at him, but you blink uncomprehendingly at the obvious inside joke.
"I use he/they pronouns."
You look between them: their instant acceptance, their smiles and their openness, and their kindness.
And you start to cry.
Immediately, Phil has moved to sit next to you and Dan has fetched a box of tissues which he awkwardly balances in your lap.
"I'm going to put my arm around your shoulder, is that okay?" Phil asks formally.
You nod beneath the hands covering your face and he slides a comforting arm around you.
His hug is warm and gentle and grounding.
You haven't felt a touch so unconditional in such a long time.
You cry for who knows how long; neither man leaves.
Finally, the tears have dried out and you mop yourself up with the tissues - flashing a grateful smile at Dan.
"I remember Jayden had mentioned that your parents were not very queer friendly..." Phil comments quietly.
You tense up again at the reference to your parents.
"I had always wondered why it mattered quite so much to him, now I know it's because he cares about you." He nudges you gently with his shoulder and smiles softly.
"And why he gave them our address." Dan murmurs as if in realisation.
"It's nearly 8. Shall we have some breakfast?" Phil suggests, breaking the silence as he unwinds his arm from you.
You immediately miss the sensation but don't dare to comment.
"Classic Phil, always thinking about food." Dan laughs, standing and stretching his tall body slightly before holding out a hand.
For a second, you think the hand is for Phil, but he stands up next to you without even acknowledging it.
Nervously, you look up at Dan and notice he is watching you carefully - not warily, like he did last night, but with... Affection?
But mostly concern fills his gaze right now.
Phil disappears off through a doorway like a man on a mission, presumably heading for the kitchen.
Dan bends down a little and explains in a whisper: "I'm guessing you haven't eaten in a while - when you get upright, all the blood is gonna rush out of your head."
"Oh."
"I don't want you to fall over, so-" He makes a show of offering his hand again and this time you take it.
Exactly as he predicted, you sway as soon as you get to your feet.
But Dan's grip on your fingers tightens and he holds you steady until the dizzy spell passes.
As you slowly walk to the kitchen, you catch sight of his shit-eating self-satisfied grin out of the corner of your eye.
Without thinking, just as you would to your brother if you saw that expression on his face, with your spare hand you reach out and swat his shoulder.
"Stop it." You scold with a laugh.
Dan is laughing too by the time he has guided you into a chair at the table.
"What's so funny?" Phil asked, appearing from another door - wiping his damp hands, clearly having just gone to the bathroom.
"Nothing." You both chorus innocently.
Phil gives you both funny looks, but you spot him smiling as he turns away and opens a cupboard door.
"I'm afraid all we can offer is cereal." He explains to you, his expression apologetic.
You shrug. "I'd pretty much eat literally anything right now."
Dan slides into a seat opposite you, not taking his eyes off you.
"When was the last time you ate?" He asks you quietly.
Your smile dims and you glance at him then pointedly look away.
"Breakfast yesterday. I didn't manage to find time to have lunch - then dinner was... not an option." You answer, equally quietly.
You sense more than see the glances they exchange that time.
"Well there's plenty of cereal-" Phil starts to say.
"Only because you haven't been stealing it." Dan cuts in slyly.
"There's plenty of cereal!" Phil repeats with a mock glare at Dan.
Then he looks at you, with so much kindness on his face that you have to look away.
"So have as much as you want, okay?" His voice is so earnest.
"Okay." You repeat quietly.
He places a very full bowl and spoon in front of you, and politely ignore how you hesitate before digging in.
They sit and eat their own bowl's of cereal, Dan across from you and Phil by your side.
Phil offers you some more once you have finished, but you decline as your stomach clenches uncomfortably.
"No thank you, I don't want to push it."
You sit in silence for a time, then Dan clears his throat.
"So, we had a little talk last night - after you were... passed out." He begins awkwardly.
"We are happy for you to stay here for as long as you need. We have a spare bedroom that you can use, you would not be an inconvenience we promise." Phil continues.
Your eyes widen and you stare at him, stunned into silence.
"We didn't put you there last night because we thought it might be weird for you, to be 'put to bed' by strangers..." Phil explains quietly.
Slowly you nod; there's a vague buzzing in your ears.
"And we would suggest getting in touch with your brother. We nearly contacted him last night but didn't want to do that without your permission." Dan adds in.
"Thank you." You whisper.
You look between them with gratitude written plainly across your face.
"For letting me stay, but also for not doing that without asking." You elaborate.
They nod but you feel like you have to explain.
"I haven't spoken to him for a long time. My partner didn't..." You trail off.
Dan nods understandingly and Phil slowly reaches out, telegraphing his intentions clearly, to take your hand.
Only once his thumb is stroking the back of your hand, do you realise that you had been digging your nails into your palm.
"We will need to go over some ground rules about privacy, if that's alright?" Dan remarks.
He looks so tense that you frown and nod jerkily.
"Do you know who we are by the way?"
"Who you are?" You echo in confusion, shaking your head with a frown.
"We are semi-famous YouTubers." Phil explains with an awkward little laugh that is quite endearing.
"Now that I think about it I might have seen some headlines, years ago, or something." You muse, trying to remember.
"It's not a problem, we're not that egocentric to think the whole world knows who we are - it's just that privacy is a really big deal to us." Phil explains, still smiling.
"I can understand that." You nod, slightly distracted by his thumb which is drawing circles on your skin.
It's comforting and lulling.
"Look we just need to make clear is that you don't share our address with anyone, okay?" Dan clarifies, resting his elbows on the table in front of him.
"Of course not! I would never!" You protest fervently, without the slightest hesitation.
Instantly their expressions clear and you can tell that this had been weighing on them - even if they hadn't realised it.
"I would never share this address, I swear to you. Not just because you have asked me not to either, but because it just wouldn't be right!" You insist.
Your indignation seems to calm them, ironically.
"Alright, alright. Thank you." Dan smiles at you and you notice that he has a dimple.
They exchange glances again and you idly wonder if they're telepathic.
"Would you like to have a shower? Do you have a change of clothes with you?" Phil asks.
"Are you trying to tell me that I smell, Phil?" You joke, though your voice sounds sharp and raw to your ears.
"No!" He squawks, and Dan chuckles.
"That sounds like a really good idea, thank you." You answer truthfully, dropping the banter.
Phil reaches across the corner of the table to lightly smack Dan's arm though it doesn't lessen Dan's grin.
"I really don't know what, but I should have some stuff in that suitcase..." You start to speak then trail off.
You bolt upright, half standing in your seat, looking all around for your battered old bag - your backpack had been by the sofa when you woke.
"Where is it? I know it doesn't look like a lot, but it's all I have!" You cry.
"Hey, hey, it's in the hall still. Don't worry, okay? It's right out there." Dan soothes.
"Oh, okay. Okay. Okay, sorry." You stumblingly apologise for your outburst, trying to get a handle on your panic.
Phil shoots you a friendly smile and speaks calmly like he's approaching a cornered animal.
"Shall I show you to the guest bedroom? I can carry your bags up. There's towels ready, so you can go ahead and shower. How does that sound?" He offers kindly.
"Sounds amazing." You answer him, too tired to puzzle over why he grins at that word...
"I made sure there's a phone charger there, I figured yours is dead or dying by now." Dan comments, as you follow Phil out into the hall.
You nod in acknowledgement and gesture a thumbs up to him, then grab your backpack.
As you watch Phil hoist your falling-apart suitcase up the stairs, your soft smile falls as you remember how you had lugged it the night before...
He leads you to a nice, clean and simple guest bedroom - and then shows you where the shower is.
And, most importantly, points out to you the phone charger ready and waiting just like Dan said.
These were two people who really understood phone addiction.
You are grateful to notice bottles of non-branded standard shampoo as well as a fluffy towel waiting in the shower for your use.
"Go ahead, we'll be downstairs okay - shout if you need anything." Phil reassures you, then leaves with one last smile thrown over his shoulder.
You rifle through your case, evaluating what you had managed to bring in the chaos of that last mad dash.
You are probably not going to get a chance to go back to the flat, so this is everything you have now.
A couple of items of clothing, thankfully a fair amount of underwear as you had simply seized a fistful and stuffed it in your bag.
You are wearing your favourite jumper, now very much in need of a wash but luckily in one piece.
You have your laptop and your phone, that still needed charging but was undamaged.
A comb, some deodorant - plus a few books which had been in your bag that morning.
Tucked inside a pair of slippers are some precious keepsakes, including a tiny teddy bear your brother had given you.
You sigh in relief when you find your emotional valuables intact and safely still in your possession.
Somewhat ironically at the bottom of your rucksack is a slightly crushed packet of biscuits that you wish you'd have known were there last night.
You have your wallet, containing your student ID, but you would need to cancel your bank card and get a new one.
You have your uni notebook, a couple of pens, a packet of tissues and a pair of sunglasses.
An eclectic mix but not bad considering how frantically you had packed.
Some part of your brain had known this was coming, not all of it but the leaving - that had been expected for some time now.
You feel like you are in mourning.
You want to cry but your eyes are dried out.
And you are so tired.
But you gather your things into a pile on your new borrowed bed and go take a shower.