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It's a well known fact about Phil Lester that he gets migraines - bad ones, infact. As much as his migraine medication does help, it's only to an extent; but there is one thing that constantly provides some level of relief any time he suffers one of his skull-crushing headaches.
Dan.
Dan and his wonderful ways of knowing exactly how to fix any ailment of Phil's - whether that be migraines, dizziness, pains or aches. Dan always finds a way to solve the problem.
Guess that's what happens when you learn to know your partner inside-out over the course of 16 years.
Phil hums to himself, his partner's thumbs slowly caressing his temples, pressure increasing and decreasing, working effortlessly to relieve the tension that has built up in his head and behind his eyes over the last hour or two.
He sighs, his eyes closed, as for a short period of time, the pain subsides - finally. Though this headache wasn't quite in migraine territory, it was teetering on the edge, and Phil thanks every deity out there that it didn't progress into something worse. He could not be dealing with a bad migraine, not today.
Not ever, preferably.
This was a common occurrence for the two of them. Dan somehow always clocks when Phil is having a bad migraine day, and one way or another, Phil's head ends up in Dan's lap, thumbs massaging his temples in attempt to soothe the ever-building ache.
Phil smiles a soft smile up at him, eyes still closed, and feels the movements stop for a short moment. He feels a hand leave his head to lift Phil's hand, a small breath of warm air hits his skin, and then a gentle kiss is pressed to his wrist, then his knuckles.
Phil quietly chuckles - Dan's silent way of saying "I love you" when Phil's noise sensitivity is turned to the max because of a headache. No words needed, just a simple, quiet gesture. It whispers I've got you and I'm here.
Dan carefully puts Phil's hand down, and resumes the familiar movement once more.
Phil leans into the touch, the same smile etched into his expression.
Oh how lucky he is.
Dan had been awake for hours now. It was about 1pm, and Phil was still in bed, presumably sleeping.
When he'd woken up and turned to face his partner, he recognised the all-too-familiar wrinkled lines in Phil's forehead, the way his eyebrows knitted together, the slight twitching of the muscles by his eyes. He wasn't awake, his breathing still steady, and he was slightly curled in on himself.
Dan knew immediately today's plans would have to be rescheduled. This was a migraine, and a hell of a bad one at that.
He'd slowly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping boyfriend, threw on a t-shirt, and made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Phil's migraine medication - not that it'd necessarily help but, he could only hope.
He made his way back into their bedroom, silently setting down the glass and pills on Phil's bedside table. He looked down at his sleeping figure, frowning at the worsening lines taking over his forehead as the migraine only seemed to get stronger.
On days like this, however, Dan stepped back until Phil specifically requested him. He doesn't want to make things worse and overwhelm him. So, he left their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, and settled on the living room sofa, a cup of coffee in hand.
Phil would tell him if he needed him.
And at about 1:37pm, his phone lit up with a notification.
Twang.
He didn't even have to check who it was from. He knew immediately it was Phil - he was telling him his head hurt (as if Dan didn't already know).
Twat.
Feel?
There was a short pause, the typing bubble appearing and disappearing a few times, before:
Bqs. Mych hury
Typos. Dan knew that, as much as Phil likely wasn't wearing his glasses, the typos were due to his eyes being so sore and strained. He was able to decode it as "bad. much hurt.", to which he frowned: he hated when Phil was in so much pain.
Need?
Come
Fix
That was all Dan needed to leap off the sofa (ensuring his blood pressure didn't fail him and he didn't faint first) and make his way back to their room. He opened the door slowly, just enough to slip into the room, but not enough to let any light seep in from the rest of the house.
Phil was buried under the quilt in their bed, his blonde hair only just peeking out behind it. Dan frowned, it was worse than he'd thought.
He looked to the bedside table, and noted that the glass of water was empty, and the pills had gone, which was a good thing - hopefully those meds would kick in soon.
Phil let out a pained whine from beneath the blanket, a hand appearing, making grabby-hand gestures towards the door where Dan stood.
He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head fondly, and approached the bed so slowly that he looked like a predator stalking its prey.
He leaned over Phil's figure, a gentle caress of his hair away from his forehead, and pressed a feather-light kiss to the exposed skin. Phil whimpered in response - Dan wasn't sure if that was a noise of pain, or him being glad he's come to his rescue. Maybe a bit of both.
"Shuffle down a bit, bub," Dan whispered as quietly as possible against his forehead, barely audible.
Phil mumbled, and did as he was told, shuffling down the bed so that Dan could slot in behind him where his head was resting.
"Can you lift a tiny bit?"
Phil hesitated. Moving from laying down was going to send a horrid pain coursing through his skull.
He let out a deep breath, and used all of the very little strength his body possessed at the moment, to lift himself up, so Dan's legs were now either side of his weak frame. The pain, as expected, took over, but twice as hard as before, and he let out an audible sob at the feeling.
"Okay, okay, lay back down," Dan whispered, finally getting Phil adjusted comfortably enough in his lap.
Dan watched a stray tear slip from Phil's eye, and his heart nearly shattered. This must be one of the worst ones he's had in a very long time.
He wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb, then slowly brought both of his hands to the sides of Phil's head, massaging his thumbs into his temples once more, as he always has done.
The second Dan's hands made contact with the sides of his face, he felt Phil's body physically relax: only the slightest bit, but the (likely unintentional) rigid tension in his shoulders seemed to slowly dissipate.
Phil let out a quiet hum, as Dan's thumbs and fingers worked effortlessly at his temples, then towards his hairline, and back to his temples.
A sigh, a whimper, another stray tear - a sympathetic frown settled on Dan's features. He hopes and prays this migraine doesn't last more than a day, he cant bear see Phil in so much pain for such a long period of time.
Dan isn't quite sure how much time passes, but eventually, Phil's whines turn into soft breathing. He's fallen asleep. Thank god.
Dan sighs a breath of relief that Phil was even able to doze off again considering the severity of the situation.
Dan lifted his arm gently, kissed his fingers, and placed it back down. He left one of his hands to slowly scratch and press at Phil's scalp, another soothing thing for his migraines, and decided to scroll on his phone with the other - not before ensuring his brightness was all the way down, just as precaution.
Some time in 2009
Dan was at Phil's house again. This was the second time now, no, maybe third? Atleast he thinks. He's lost track, with how much he enjoys Phil's company. After what may aswell have been hundreds of Skype calls, they'd managed to find a time for Dan to come to him, and here he was, in AmazingPhil's bedroom. Again.
This wasn't for content, however. This was just for the two of them - having fun together, exploring what this feeling was that flared in Dan's chest any time he thought of Phil, his Phil. It excited him - it was new, comforting, warm, but also terrifying at the same time.
When Phil had opened the front door to Dan, however, Dan could tell something was off. He looked spaced out, eyes squinted, wincing every now and then, even flinching despite Dan not hearing anything loud enough to make someone flinch. His eyebrows were knitted together, the skin of his lips also appeared to have been picked at - maybe out of nerves, he does that too, he supposed.
Phil wrestled a faux smile onto his face and let Dan into the house. Dan was eyeing him the entire time he took his shoes off.
"Are you okay?" Dan finally asked, as they were curled up on Phil's bed together about 30 minutes later, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as chosen by Phil, of course.
"Mm?" Phil let out a questioning noise, not having seemed present at all.
"I said 'are you okay?', you seem.. off? Your voice sounds strained and your eyes are barely open."
"'m fine," Phil slurred. Yeah, Dan wasn't buying any of it.
He took the remote and paused the tv, earning a noise of protest from Phil who reached out for the remote in Dan's hand.
"Not until you tell me what's happening!"
Dan stuck his tongue out playfully, but his eyes softened at the pout on Phil's lips.
He pressed a gentle kiss to them, something that still made them so giddy every time it happened. He smiled bashfully, feeling heat creep up his neck and to his cheeks. Phil looked exactly the same as he did, flushed, except his expression was still strained.
Phil gave up his protest, finally succumbing to Dan's efforts, and rested his head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh, and a quiet whimper.
"Wanna tell me what's going on?" Dan said softly, running his hand through the straightened black hair that he loved so much, even if it was box-dyed.
"Migraine," Phil mumbled quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.
"What?"
"Had a migraine all mornin'," he sighed, burying his face into Dan's neck, to which he received a yelp and a jerk of his body, completely forgetting about Dan's 'neck thing'. The yelp made Phil flinch back, the pain in his skull growing stronger at the sudden movement, letting out a whine of discomfort.
"'m sorry," Phil muttered, in unison with Dan's panicked, "I'm sorry!", earning a giggle from either of them.
"A migraine though, why didn't you say anything?" Dan questioned, taking Phil's hands into his and running his thumbs over the backs of them.
"Didn't wanna be annoyin'."
"Phil," Dan frowned, squeezing his hands. "It's not annoying. You can't help it, it isn't your fault."
Phil hummed, regretting it as the pain twinged in his head even stronger than before. He let out a pained mewl at the sensation, tears forming in his eyes as he looked at his concerned partner.
"'s the worst one in a while," Phil whined. "Hurts so bad, Danny."
Dan squeezed his hands again, and racked his brain for things that could help.
He had done a bit of research into migraines after Phil had mentioned he suffered with them. A thought came to mind; he just hoped it'd do something.
"I have an idea," Dan whispered, pulling away from Phil and readjusting himself against the headboard of the bed, Phil's eyes tracking his movements slowly.
Dan patted his lap after a bit of shuffling. An invitation.
Phil was hesitant, but followed either way, allowing himself to be gently pulled down and to settle his head in Dan's lap.
"You said your mum used to massage your head when you had migraines, right? I read somewhere it's meant to help," Dan shrugged, watching recognition wash over Phil's features. "Let me try, and if it does nothing, I can stop?"
Phil let out a noise of agreement. Nodding was out of the question, and he didnt feel much like speaking. Everything hurt too much.
He felt fingers slide into his hair, and his body shivered at the contact.
Dan applied some pressure, and Phil could have cried at how good it felt against his throbbing skull. A pained noise of relief escaped his throat, and concern flashed across Dan's features, stopping his movements.
Phil whined, pleading eyes looking up at Dan to keep going.
He nodded, resuming the massage, moving to his temples after a short period of time. He pressed a little harder, earning a hiss in response from Phil.
"Not that hard," Phil whispered gently, not scolding, just guiding.
Dan understood, and lessened the pressure just a fraction, and Phil sighed as the tension slowly unravelled from his shoulders and his forehead.
"Good?" Dan questioned, wanting to make sure his efforts were atleast doing something for him.
Phil hummed in response: a confirmation, reassurance.
Dan smiled, seeing the tension in Phil's face slowly but surely start to fade. His migraine was still in full swing, but there was certainly less pressure there now.
"Thank you," Phil barely whispered after a while, his eyes falling shut with little to no strain now, sighing in comfort.
Dan couldn't quite bend to give him a kiss, so instead he opted for his hand, taking it gently and littering kisses across his knuckles. Phil smiled, melting into Dan's touch.
Dan had no idea how long he'd been rubbing Phil's head, but it seemed to do the trick, as he appeared to have fallen asleep.
Dan brushed Phil's hair out of his eyes, thumb caressing his forehead, as a smile settled across his features.
"Love you, Phiw," he whispered, deciding to let him sleep this migraine off. Dan's limbs would likely cramp up soon from being in the same position, but:
Anything for his Phil.
Today was a long day of filming. They had a podcast episode to film, and a Philm Club video to film too.
The minute Phil opened his eyes that morning, he felt an aura quickly taking over his brain. His vision was flashing, blurry, and he was incredibly dizzy when he hoisted himself to sit upright in bed.
He knew today was going to be bad, and it took about 2 hours to convince Dan he'd be fine to record today, as he'd instantly recognised the tell-tale signs of an incoming migraine from a mile away.
He was, infact, not fine, and definitely should be in bed right now. The studio lights were abusing his vision, sending shockwaves of pain to course through his head.
He swore he could feel it in his actual brain.
He'd taken his meds before he and Dan left for the studio, but alas, they hadn't helped.
They'd opened the podcast, starting with a silly word association game they'd been playing prior to the cameras rolling, and even laughing made it feel like his head was being crushed by a hydraulic press. His head felt distant, not quite there, and the pulsing behind his eyes and in the side of his head were not getting any better whatsoever.
Dan looked towards Phil as they played the intro, and Phil was rubbing the back of his head in attempt to relieve some sort of discomfort, it seems.
"I need a head massage," he says casually, kneading the back of his neck still.
Alarm bells went off for Dan, but he glared at the camera with a comedic stare.
"Dunno who you're looking at."
"I don't know, I'm just letting you know I've got a bit of head tension," Phil shrugged.
"You know that we're recoding a podcast right now?"
"And I'm being my authentic self!"
"I'm not giving you a head massage right now," Dan deadpanned, though his eyes showed a hint of concern.
"Just give me a little poke there, I just need to release that little bit."
And Dan did. After glancing at the camera once more, he prodded Phil in his neck where he was pointing to. Dan watched his shoulders fall ever so slightly. And he knew he was right about hounding Phil this morning to stay home - silly Philly was simply too stubborn to accept the fact his body was practically screaming at him to rest.
"Oh there we go!" Phil grinned, though Dan knew it was forced. His head pressure absolutely had not been cured by Dan's magic poke, Dan wasn't stupid. But they both kept up the mirage for the audience.
Phil was wearing a cap in the hopes that the pressure squeezing his head would somewhat contain the pulsating pain behind his eyes that rippled through his skull.
But as the recording went on, he felt his energy slowly start to drain, the pain more fierce, and the room was beginning to slow around him.
Dan, the oh-so-observant boyfriend he is, noticed the shift in his demeanor, and decided to wrap up the Patreon segment as quick as possible. He thumbsed up the producers, who switched off the camera on his signal.
Dan stood from his chair, eyeing Phil who was still sat down, pinching the very top of his nose in a manner that looked like it should cause more pain than prevent what's already there.
He flashed him a look of, "ready to admit I was right?", hands on his hips like a disappointed mother, and Phil rolled his eyes, shaking his head. They still had a Philm Club video to record. He could do this.
He could.
Right?
Wrong.
Throughout the recording of their reaction to the final episode of Heated Rivalry (despite Dan's protests of leaving the recording for another day for Phil's benefit ), Phil had progressively been getting closer and closer to Dan as the episode went on. Dan didn't mind. Sure the phans will probably go insane, but, he did it last week too. He's sure it'll be fine.
Then he felt Phil's head drop onto his shoulder, and a stifled, low groan escaped him.
There it is, Dan thought.
As much as he wanted to gloat about the fact he was right, he could tell now was not the time. He'd wind him up later. Phil was in the midst of a horrible migraine and Dan knew he was finally giving in.
Dan nudged Phil with his shoulder, ever so gently, and Phil turned so his forehead was pressed fully into his arm, shielding his eyes from the light of the room.
Not wanting to move, Dan awkwardly paused the show on his Macbook with his foot, attention focusing on his suffering boyfriend who was slowly curling in on himself.
"Come lay down," Dan whispered against Phil's hair, pressing a gentle kiss there.
"B't the video-"
"Shut. We'll edit it out, or refilm another day."
Phil tried to let out another noise of protest, and was met with Dan's disapproving glare. He finally, finally caved in, sitting up slightly and hissing at the strong wave of pain that attacked his head upon moving.
He watched Dan through squinted eyes, seeing him reach for their backpack that was placed by the side of the filming sofa, and pulled something out.
Phil felt the red cap be taken off his head, to which he pouted, but quickly his expression was replaced with ever-so-slight relief, as the familiar pressure squeezed his head in just the right way.
"Should've put this one on before we left," Dan mumbled, putting the red cap back in the backpack, and readjusting so that his back was pressed against the arm of the sofa, patting his lap, inviting Phil to take his place.
Phil happily obliged, the Doomed cap working its magic, barely, but somewhat it was helping.
He let out a sigh, muttering, "I didn't wanna concern the phans, they know it's my migraine cap."
Dan breathed a laugh, bringing his thumbs to Phil's temples, just below where the hat was compressing in just the right way. Phil melted into the touch, a quiet moan of comfort leaving his throat as he finally, finally allowed Dan to help him.
He'd needed this all day. Dan was right, as much as he's dreading admitting it to him later.
"You're an idiot, you know that right?" Dan teased in a whisper, earning a grumble in response.
"Later," Phil insisted, as Dan's skilled fingers made their way to the nape of his neck, rubbing circles on the warm skin there. "Need this."
"I know," Dan half-smiled, eyes full of obvious pity for his poor partner, half-asleep in his lap. "I know."
Once again, Dan lifts Phil's hand, and presses a kiss to his fingers, watching a small smile overtake his features - the first one in a while, as he settles further into the comfort of Dan's lap.
They didn’t end up finishing the recording, opting to refilm it later in the week to allow Phil to recover.
On the way home from the studio, Phil's head rested on Dan's shoulder, the two of them simply not caring about the glances the uber driver was giving them in the front mirror - Dan solely focused on making sure Phil was as comfortable as possible.
More painkillers, a glass of water and safely tucked in bed, Phil settled beneath the blanket, back pressed to Dan's front, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks Danny," Phil muttered, taking hold of Dan's hand that was wrapped around him in his, bring it to his lips to press a lazy kiss to his knuckles.
Dan smiled against his hair, squeezing Phil's hand, a silent way of saying "you're welcome".
Phil's migraines may vary each time he has them - some stronger and worse than others, some where he can push through. Dan will make sure he doesn't force himself through them if he doesn't need to, however.
Phil always has Dan, no matter how stinky of a baby he may be when it comes to accepting his help.
For Phil, his breathing in tandem with Dan's, with the worst of his migraine having passed - maybe accepting his help wasn't so bad afterall.