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Slightly bloodshot icy blue eyes stare at a laptop screen, watching a small progress bar inch across the screen. 74%, 75, and Phil could barely watch any more. It was late, dark moonlight streaming through the blinds drawn taut in their computer room.
His back ached from sitting for so long. One leg was tucked under the other in his chair, completely numb from the pressure.
Time felt nonexistent.
Phil knew he needed to go to bed, he was dog tired from the emotion of the day— after all, it was their 16 year anniversary today.
Dan had said it about a week ago.
“I think I’m ready.” Dan had said offhandedly, while sat on the couch in one of his tour hoodies, picking at some tikka masala that they’d gotten for takout.
“Huh?” Phil replies, not even looking up from his phone for a beat.
“The hard launch.”
Phil’s eyes blow wide, practically tossing his phone into the void with how quickly he turns to Dan. “You can’t say it like that!” he says, almost wanting to laugh.
Dan pauses. “I’ll give you that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I’ve been mulling over it in therapy for the past month or so. You know, my therapist literally said that I liked being in the closet?”
“She didn’t.” Phil replied, looking incredulous, lips quirking at the corners.
Dan shakes his head. “I mean. It kind of stuck, you know. I feel safe in privacy. I don’t like to be tied down.”
“Except for when you do.” Phil quips, and Dan shoots him a look.
“The video doesn’t need to happen actually, we’re getting divorced.”
They seriously talked again, before deciding. Phil supposed it was fitting. Dan was ready for it all to be over with.
But something still tugged at him. Phil wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or shut down.
What would the people think? What would they say? How much would they pry now, now that they knew?
Had they truly grown up as much as they thought that they did?
The video was almost done, almost ticking into the 90s now, and Phil full on panicked.
He pushed himself out of the computer chair, almost falling over from the sudden weight and blood pooling in his numb feet. He was ready, he was always ready, Dan just had to say the word.
What was wrong with it now?
He practically ran over to the wall, clutching at anything stable, breathing heavily. He was completely freaking out now. He tried to fix it. Counting, deep breathing, thinking of literally anything else. He slid to the floor with a thump.
Well, Dan must of heard that.
“Phil? Are you alright?” Came a call. When Phil didn’t respond, Dan came running.
Phil couldn’t tear his head from inbetween his legs.
Dan turned off the lights, and minimuzed the YouTube window on the computer. He gently sat down at Phil’s side, pressing his shoulder against his, and began to guide Phil’s breaths.
He’s been through enough of Phil’s panic attacks to know what to do. He didn’t talk, didn’t touch him more, just sat and let Phil ride it out, let him slowly match his breathing until Phil blearily looked up at him.
Phil spoke first, whispery and hoarse.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, love.” Dan spoke softly.
“I’ve literally been sat in that chair for hours thinking about everything that could go wrong.”
“It’s okay to spiral. You’re allowed to have reservations.”
“But I don’t want to have reservations. I’ve been ready for so long. Why does my stupid brain have to do this?”
“You’re not stupid.”
Phil gently lay his head on Dan’s shoulder, breathing him in. Caramel, some sort of fancy wood, bergamot spilled into his nose. It sort of mixed oddly with the air freshener they had going in this room. It grounded Phil.
“Did it post yet?”
“I minimized the tab. Let’s not think about it.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“You’re right.”
“The world’s not going to explode.”
“Right.”
“Nobody’s going to leave.”
“Right again.”
“And if they do they weren’t meant to be here anyways.”
“Right a fourth time.”
Phil leans forward, tucking his chin on top of Dan’s knee. He turns onto his cheek and blinks at him.
“I didn’t want to freak out about it. I didn’t want to have reservations, to make you think you needed to back out.”
“Phil.” Dan replies, gently carding a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be strong. You don’t need to carry everything, or to be perfect. You’re allowed to feel.”
Phil was silent for a while as Dan pulled him into his arms.
“I feel like I didn’t make an escape plan for getting off the floor.”
Dan laughs quietly. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m deflecting lazer beams into your eyes if you say that again.”
Later, the two were spread out on the couch, enjoying dinner and Bake-Off. The video had long been posted by now. Neither cared.
They didn’t get much sleep that night. It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the comfort of being in eachother’s arms.