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Less than ten minutes into an episode of Buffy, Phil realises that his shoulder is damp.
He peers down at the offending spot only to find a mess of brown hair obstructing his view, tucked into the crook of his neck in a way that might tickle if he wasn’t so used to its presence. He reaches up and cards his fingers through it. “Couldn’t even stay awake long enough to meet the praying mantis lady, huh?”
Dan scrunches his nose, looking for a moment like he might wake up, before burying his face even further into Phil’s shoulder.
“Guess you’re right. It’s not a very good episode, is it?” He grabs the remotes, turning off the DVD player and then the tiny television. The room goes mostly dark, illuminated only by the streetlamps and headlights outside. The orange and yellow lights filter through the blinds and catch on Dan’s hair, giving it the illusion of warmth on an otherwise chilly night somewhere near the Kentucky-Ohio border.
“You did this the first time we met. Do you remember?” He knows Dan can’t hear him, but he doesn’t mind the one-sided conversation. After all these years, there are still things that Phil can only say to Dan when he’s asleep. They don’t need saying, really, because Dan knows. But sometimes Phil feels the need to get the words out into the open, even if he is the only one who hears them. “You wanted to pack as much into that day as possible, see every place in Manchester I’d ever been, even though you spent three hours on the train that morning and hadn’t slept the night before. You tried your best to hide it, but then you conked out before we even made it back to my parents’ house, sleeping on my shoulder like that’s where you belonged. Like I was already yours.” He smiles at the memory. “I suppose I was.”
He rests his cheek on top of Dan’s head. “Everything was so new and exciting then. And — I have to admit — a little scary. I never expected to find the love of my life in the Twitter comments. But then there you were, and I was terrified of losing you before I even knew what was happening. You never said it, but I think you were scared too.
“Sometimes I wish I could go back and tell past-me and past-you not to worry, that they won’t grow apart and that their life together will be great — better than they could have even imagined. But then, I guess it’ll be a nice surprise for them, yeah?”
He yawns. He knows they should lie down, that if they go to sleep propped up like they are, they will wake up with sore backs and cricks in their necks. But Dan is warm, and the steady motion of the bus is starting to feel soothing rather than sickening, and he’s so very tired…
Suddenly, the bus jostles them violently, and Dan and Phil are jerked awake.
“Wha-who…wha’s happening?” Dan says, turning his head from side to side even though his eyes are still closed.
“Pothole, I think,” Phil responds, taking deep breaths through his nose until the nausea passes. “Everything’s fine, love. Go back to sleep.”
Dan’s eyes flutter open. He looks around and frowns. “What happened to the show?”
Phil smirks. “Well, after you started drooling on my shoulder, I decided maybe Buffy wasn’t in the cards for tonight.”
There was a time when a statement like that would have made Dan blush and apologise profusely. Now he just shrugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You could have woken me. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Dan, you’re exhausted.”
“Who cares?” Dan replies, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist and placing his head on Phil’s shoulder once more, right where it belongs. “I miss you.”
Phil laughs softly. “We haven’t been apart for more than half an hour since this tour started.”
“I know, but we’re always doing stuff. If we’re not doing a show or a meet-and-greet, we’re sightseeing or filming or editing or doing a liveshow or sleeping. I miss just lying on the couch and watching dumb shows with you.”
“Buffy isn’t dumb.”
“Weren’t we going to watch that praying mantis episode tonight?”
Phil nods. “Fair point. So you were lying the other day when you said the only things you missed about home were your computer and your bed?”
“Maybe a little. But I wasn’t lying about not being homesick.”
“Yeah? And why’s that?”
Dan reaches up and flicks him on the nose. “Stop fishing for compliments. You know why.”
Phil rubs his nose. “Rude. And I was saying such nice things about you a little while ago.”
“Telling me how much you love me while I’m unconscious again, hm? You know, it’s not like I don’t already know.”
“I know. Which is exactly why I wait until you can’t roll your eyes about it.”
Phil can’t actually see whether it happens, but he would bet money that Dan rolls his eyes right then. “I think you’re just too intimidated by my good looks to tell me I’m pretty when I’m awake.”
“You’re pretty,” Phil says before placing a soft kiss onto the top of Dan’s head. “Pretty tired.”
Dan probably rolls his eyes again. “That was lame.”
“Lame but true. We should lie down. We’re too old to sleep sitting up anymore.”
“Speak for yourself, old man,” Dan replies even as he shuffles down the bed and pulls the covers up to his neck.
Phil scoots down to meet him, throwing an arm around Dan’s shoulders. Dan responds by rolling closer until he can rest his head on Phil’s chest and wrap his arm around Phil’s waist. He sighs in contentment and closes his eyes.
“Better?” Phil asks.
Dan nods. “You’re a very nice pillow. Much nicer than those square ones in Kentucky.”
“Glad I meet your standards. Try not to drool on me again.”
“You like it.”
Now it’s Phil’s turn to roll his eyes, but he can’t stop the corners of his mouth from tugging upwards all the same. “You’re gross.”
“Shh. Pillows don’t insult people.”
“You’re not people. You’re Dan.”
“Is that another insult?”
“No,” Phil says sincerely. “Definitely a compliment.”
“Ugh,” Dan says. “And you call me gross. On second thought, I don’t even want to know what kind of mushy crap you say about me when I’m sleeping.”
“Then you’d better hurry up and fall asleep, because I feel another wave of affection coming. Not sure I can hold it back this time.”
“Hate you,” Dan mumbles, nuzzling into Phil’s chest.
The room goes quiet then, and Phil listens to the steady rumbling of the bus while he watches Dan’s chest rise and fall. He watches until the breaths even out, until he knows his boyfriend is asleep.
“Goodnight, Dan,” he whispers, letting his eyes slip shut. “Love you too.”