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Dan closed the front door behind him with the softest click, careful not to let it squeak. The lock clicked into place and then… silence. The house was completely still. It was the kind of quiet that made his heartbeat echo in his ears, a quiet that was familiar but charged with excitement.
He leaned his forehead to the cool wood, letting himself absorb the reality. I’m home. I’m actually home.
His chest tightened. Phil was in the bedroom. Safe. Warm. Cozy. He’d imagined this moment endlessly, counting down flights, obsessively checking time zones. And now it was real. Just a few steps away. The anticipation made his stomach twist with happiness.
Dan kicked off his shoes, lining them neatly against the wall, then nudged his suitcase and backpack to the side. He didn’t care about unpacking tonight — tonight was all about Phil.
The hallway stretched before him, dimly lit by the warm glow spilling from the bedroom door. Each step was careful, slow, deliberate, like moving through a fragile dream he never wanted to end. He knew every creaky floorboard, every patch of carpet, every subtle sound the house made when he shifted.
Dan paused at the bedroom door. Phil was lying there, phone in hand, completely absorbed, legs tangled in the duvet, one knee bent awkwardly, hair sticking up in that perfectly messy way. He looked so peaceful, so safe.
I missed him so much.
Dan pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it carefully behind him. The house smelled like Phil — shampoo, the faint scent of his cologne, warm, soft, familiar. He moved closer, grinning like an idiot.
And then Phil looked up.
Recognition hit him immediately, Phil’s eyes wide, mouth falling open. A tiny scream escaped, pure shock and relief.
“PHIL—!” Dan called instinctively.
“DAN!” Phil yelled back, and before he could process further, Dan lunged onto the bed. Momentum carried him straight into Phil, arms and legs tangling, pressing his face into Phil’s neck. He breathed him in, memorizing the scent, the warmth, the exact feel of him against his chest.
“Oh my god—!” Phil gasped.
“I’m here! I’m home!” Dan said, voice muffled but full of joy.
Phil’s hands immediately grabbed his shirt, clutching him. Dan felt the thrill of relief wash through him — he was really here, Phil was really here, and nothing else mattered.
“You’re—You’re here. You’re real. What the fuck?” Phil said, eyes wide.
Dan pulled back slightly, cupping Phil’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing gently over his cheeks. “Hi, baby,” he said, grinning.
Phil blinked. “You said tomorrow,” he whispered.
Dan nodded, still grinning. “I know.”
Phil’s eyebrows knitted together. “Did you—”
“Yes,” Dan admitted softly. “I lied.”
Phil let out a shaky laugh, pressing his forehead into Dan’s shoulder.
“I almost died,” he murmured. “I thought someone was in the house.”
Dan laughed softly, brushing fingers through Phil’s hair. “I considered announcing myself,” he teased, “but then this felt… better.”
Phil snorted. “You scared me.”
“I know,” Dan said. “Worth it?”
Phil didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”
Dan leaned down and pressed soft kisses along Phil’s hair, lingering at the crown, then tracing along his temple. He pressed gentle ones along the bridge of Phil’s nose, his cheeks, small pecks that made Phil shiver.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Dan whispered.
Phil’s hands drifted up to touch Dan’s arms, fingers tracing patterns lazily. “Oh,” he murmured.
Dan smiled against his skin, leaning forward to press a long, slow kiss to Phil’s forehead, lingering as if to make the moment permanent. Then a quick peck on his cheek, then another, then a trail of tiny, playful kisses down to the tip of his nose.
“You’re actually here,” Phil said, voice soft. “I don’t have to sleep alone.”
Dan hugged him tighter. “Nope. You don’t.”
He shifted slightly, settling half on top of Phil, one elbow propped on the mattress. His free hand tangled in Phil’s hair, thumb brushing along his ear. Then he pressed a series of soft kisses along Phil’s jawline, moving slowly toward his lips. Phil made a small, half-protest, half-laugh sound that only made Dan grin wider.
“I missed you,” Dan whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to Phil’s lips this time, soft, deep, almost reverent. Phil’s arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer, and Dan kissed him again, slower now, pressing gentle pecks across his cheeks, forehead, and nose in between.
“You smell like airports,” Phil teased weakly.
“Rude,” Dan muttered, nuzzling against his nose before stealing another quick kiss.
“And like your cologne,” Phil added. “I missed it.”
Dan smiled, pressing another long kiss to Phil’s hair, then to his temple, lingering there as he breathed him in. He rested his forehead against Phil’s, brushing thumbs over his cheeks.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.
Phil tugged him closer under his chin. Dan held him tight, pressing a series of tiny kisses across Phil’s hairline, temples, and cheeks, alternating with soft pecks on his lips. Each one was slow, deliberate, saying I’m here. I’m home. I love you.
Phil relaxed fully into him, murmuring softly, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Dan responded with more kisses — forehead, hair, a playful nibble near the ear, another peck on the tip of Phil’s nose. Then finally, he captured Phil’s lips again, deep and slow, wrapping an arm around him, holding him close as though letting go would undo the last few weeks.
He traced soft kisses along Phil’s jawline, leaving little lingering pecks along the curve of his cheek, pressing his nose against Phil’s in contentment. The house was quiet around them, but inside their little bubble, everything was loud — heartbeat, laughter, sighs, soft whispers, the warmth of bodies pressed together.
Dan pulled back just slightly, smiling against Phil’s temple. “I missed this,” he whispered.
Phil traced fingers along Dan’s jaw. “Me too.”
Dan pressed one last slow, lingering kiss to Phil’s forehead, then nuzzled his nose into the soft curls at the back of Phil’s neck, breathing him in. “Home,” he whispered.
Phil murmured back, sleepy but happy, “Home.”
Dan wrapped him tighter, peppering his hair, cheeks, and nose with tiny, affectionate kisses, letting himself melt into the warmth of Phil’s body.
He closed his eyes, grinning like a fool. Home.