Work Text:
Dan is in the office, working and re-working the same script he’s been working on for nearly a year, and Phil is giving him space. As June has gotten closer and closer, Dan has gotten antsy, withdrawing from Phil and then sliding into his bed late at night and curling in as close to his chest as he can get. So Phil has held him when he wants to be held, and has given him space, and has watched him pace and drink and disappear for hours, and he hasn’t read anything Dan has written. He gets it- a lot of it is personal, and Dan wants to be able to say it the exact right way, doesn’t want to be misunderstood. He doesn’t want anyone to see his words until he’s ready.
Phil knows this all means less to him. He’s been out to his family longer, had his experimental phase and came to terms with it all on his own before he’d even met Dan. Dan has had to do it all with millions of eyes looking at him and asking questions he didn’t know the answers to. So he has to say it right, he has to tell the whole story. He’s working through something Phil hardly understands, and understands completely.
He’s fiddling around on his computer, looking at animal memes, when a message pops up at the bottom of his screen.
Danny: Read this? (attachment: basically-phil-final)
Phil frowns, closing out of his tab and opening imessages. It’s his name in the file, and he knows exactly what it is. Dan had asked if he could talk about it, hadn’t wanted to step on Phil’s own coming out, but Phil doesn’t mind. He’s happy to be part of Dan’s story. In a way, it’s easier to let Dan put it out there, so Phil doesn’t have to decide. So he can confirm it, after everyone is done congratulating Dan, and have that be that.
Phil: I thought you didn’t want me to?
Danny: Just this bit. I want to make sure you’re okay with it.
Phil: I told you I’m okay with anything you want to say.
Danny: Just read it
Phil: Come find you when I’m done.
He opens the file, strangely nervous suddenly. It’s his relationship, but he’s never seen it in Dan’s words.
And that was when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil…
He’s crying by the time he reaches the end. His beautiful, miraculous man. Phil has never been one for the sappy declarations, his words always more clumsy than Dan’s, but Dan- Dan is a poet. Of all the lovely things he’s ever said to Phil, the ones he’s chosen to tell the world about them are his favorite.
He takes a second to gather himself, because Dan is sensitive right now and he’s just shown his heart to Phil, and Phil doesn’t want him to see him crying. He stands up and makes his way to their shared office, through the halls of their cramped apartment. He can’t wait for the house to be done, their forever home. He almost feels like their life together has hardly started, like this is a new beginning. It’s been a decade since they met, and it feels like no time at all.
Dan is sitting in his chair, his computer open in front of him, trying not to look like he’s been waiting for Phil.
“Hey, love,” he says, closing Dan’s laptop. Dan startles, eyes darting from where the screen was to Phil’s face. Phil fits himself in between the desk and Dan’s chair, Dan’s knees bracketing him in. He slides a hand into Dan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp. “It’s beautiful,” he says, leaning down to kiss Dan. “I don’t know what I did to deserve something so beautiful being written about me.”
“You did everything,” Dan says, voice soft and scratchy, as he reaches out to grab Phil’s waist. “You changed my life.”
“You’re my best friend,” Phil says, sliding down to kneel in front of Dan, close and tight in the near-dark of the room. Dan leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. He’s not sure why that feels like the most important thing ever. Dan closes his eyes, and they just sit like that, holding each other in the dark. The light will come in soon, the walls they’ve had up for years crashing down, the world seeing them as they are for the first time, but for now they’re safe here, in the dark together.