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Phil has always been the type of person to ponder things that most people just accept. When he was seven he wanted to know why water spilled out of his eyes when he was sad or in pain, and by sixteen it bothered him that whenever he blinked he didn’t notice the momentary blackout. Lying in bed at night he often finds his train of thought drifting to sleep. Phil finds it disconcerting that sleep is just around eight hours of him and the occasional strange concoction of dream that his brain conjures up, suspended somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. He doesn't like how unaware he is during slumber, how things can happen all over the world or even right under his nose that he's clueless about until he begins to wake up. He thinks about sleep on the flight to Japan, in the back of the taxi from the BBC, cuddled into Dan on the sofa, remembers the many different settings he’s managed to slip under in.
However, at the moment all of Phil's thoughts concerning sleep are accompanied by the soft groan he emits when he realises that although he is getting a good nine hours it does not feel like enough. Tour rehearsals are taking their toll. Every day they hazily stumble out from beneath inviting sheets and blink back sleep from their eyes as they rush around trying to get ready, because obviously they've fallen victim to the other's pleas for "just five more minutes." The actual rehearsing is tiring, having to muster the strength to say every line with gusto and enthusiasm, to project their voices and the repetition of certain parts soon becomes boring. They've formed a routine for tour rehearsal days - they take it in turns to be the the one to have the first quick shower, which is always the warmest, whilst the other sets about refreshing what they will go over that day and fixes breakfast. When they return from the theatre they feel drained and as if they haven’t slept a wink, meaning that sleep on these days has to be scheduled. However, after a warm meal and a nuzzle on the sofa, watching the episode of anime they would normally watch in the morning, their spirits begin to lift. Phil is not bothered by schedules as long as he has the opportunity to sleep, but Dan resents it. Dan strictly believes that he should retire for the night when he’s tired and by around nine he’s beginning to feel more awake and productive, but Phil can't help but think that them having a sensible bedtime is definitely not a bad thing. For the most part, their job easily allows them to do whatever they like (apart from the occasional meeting and the commitment of the radio show) and all too often they will fall into bed at 2am wrapped in each other and only surface again at midday.
At the end of the day, Phil's love for the tour makes most of the early mornings and stress worth it. He's proud of himself and Dan and he wants the tour to run smoothly, wants to make the fans proud. He still thinks back to when he whacked his head on a piece of the set in Nottingham, when he'd forgotten his lines in Cardiff and had to stumble back over his words, colour invading his cheeks. These were only small incidents, only minor slip ups that everyone else soon forgot about and the first was consoled by Dan leaning over to check he was okay in one of the breaks between sections, but Phil is a perfectionist and he wants everything to go as it should. So he reluctantly rolls out of bed to the shrill sound of his alarm, uses promises of early morning kisses and a mug of coffee to coax Dan out from under the covers so he can drag his surly boyfriend with him, and makes himself presentable before putting his all into rehearsals.
The tour also inevitably means that there are times when sleep is certainly not scheduled. In the back of the minibus, on the way to the hotel from a venue, the buzz of excitement that the whole crew feel in the build up all day long before a show has begun to fizzle out and fatigue has started to seep into their bones. In America, when they’re sat side by side at the back of the bus watching the lightning light up the sky overhead whilst they consume frozen yoghurt and Dan nods off on his shoulder. He’s heavy and his open mouth will probably leave Phil’s shoulder nice and wet and sticky but his boyfriend lets him sleep, only slightly disturbing him when he tries to maneuver Dan into a more comfortable position, a pillow behind his neck.
There are times when the only peace Phil will get from a day is sleep - and even then that’s not true because he’ll spend the night awake. Days where he wakes up with the familiar pulse in his head, the migraine constraining him to a day in a bed, treatment being Dan poking his head in at random times during the day to check that the dark room still holds a Phil that hasn’t passed out from all of the painkillers he’s taken. Occasionally it’s arguments that will have Phil taking inspiration from his boyfriend, pacing during the early hours with his head a mess and the tiredness he feels overruled by the stress of the day. They don’t fight often. Not just because they made an agreement to keep their relationship away from their work a long time ago, but because they’ve both become more aware of what they say and do and how some things just aren’t worth fighting over. The way Phil sees it, most of their fights are nothing that playing ‘Hello Internet’ to a Dan who formerly believed he had won the argument can’t fix.
There are times when sleep is good, after long days when his shoulders hurt or exciting adventures where Dan is grinning at him from the other side of the cab or just times when Phil feels happy. Perhaps a new video has gone down well, they’re about to slip under sheets in a foreign country, they’ve just returned from a joint shower that didn’t strictly stay above the belt. Dreams will be nice to Phil, treat him with the kindness that those who are around him would say he deserves, will let him get wrapped up into a story that he enjoys for a while. He’ll wake up in a good mood with a warm weight pressed to his side and won’t even complain when said weight steals the duvet, muttering something intelligible and then cocoons himself in it. The light of the early morning will filter in and Phil will slip his glasses on and listen to the murmur of the city outside as it begins to start it’s day. A warm glow will settle in his chest, similar to the post coital type but more luxuriated and innocent. Phil will let a few minutes slip away before the human caterpillar begins to emerge and complain about it being too hot wrapped up in the duvet and then starts badgering the elder to make him breakfast. Sleep is weird, Phil thinks, and he likes being awake better.