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Dan's eye hurts. His eye hurts and he's relatively sure he only packed half of what he'll need and he's hungry and tired and he wants a fucking hug from his boyfriend. But that's not likely to happen because they won't have a moment alone together for at least twelve hours and besides that Phil hasn't looked at him once in the past five minutes since they've been in the car.
Phil's pissed. Dan is a fuckup (Dan's word, not Phil's, at least not the one he says out loud) who can't ever get things done on time and it's an argument they've had probably once a week for seven years, so maybe Phil has earned the right to be cross but it doesn't mean it doesn't make Dan feel like shit.
Dan glances over.
Phil stays looking down at his phone.
But maybe that's for the best, since Dan would only be fifty percent capable of looking back anyway. He rests his forehead against the cool glass of the window and digs his palm a little more subtly into his aching eye.
*
Australia's going to be fantastic.
They've been looking forward to it for ages.
Hong Kong first, staying at a swank hotel Phil booked online, a date night at a restaurant with an amazing view.
Then they've got time before the tour. They can adjust their body clocks. They can see a few sights. They can meet the crew.
They'll do their shows. They'll meet their fans. They'll do the wildlife park, hug something soft and fuzzy.
It'll be great, if they can make it there in one piece and still on speaking terms.
*
The airport is too loud.
Dan walks behind Phil. His eye hurts. He opens it a couple of times when people are looking directly at him, so he doesn't seem like too much of a freak.
Phil still isn't looking at him.
The thing is, it'd be fine, normally. If it were just the fact that they were almost late then Dan would still be in his own little strop same as Phil. Because Phil should know by now - they've never missed a flight. Dan's never made them miss a flight. Phil should know Dan can always pull it off in the end. If this were a normal situation, Dan would be happy to let the tension dissolve on its own, maybe even just spend the flight barely talking and sort it properly once they were in Hong Kong, and alone.
Things aren't usually that hard to sort out when they can just fucking talk to each other. But they can't do it with people around, they aren't allowed that like normal couples.
They aren't normal and this isn't normal and what Dan's eye is doing isn't normal and fuck, he's fucking scared, and Phil just won't turn around and look, and they're in public in a crowded airport and anyone could see, and Dan doesn't know the right words to make Phil notice.
*
Dan's chest goes tight as he opens and closes his eye repeatedly, like if he does it enough times magically it'll just go back to normal.
It doesn't. It won't, he suddenly convinced. Not ever.
He thinks about just getting up and going to the toilets to try and rinse it out again. He could tell Phil he needed a piss, it's not like Phil would care right now. He's speaking to Dan again but only because they've actually made it to the gate and he's probably moved on from active fury to plotting inside his head the lecture he'll give Dan when they're alone again.
He realizes how pathetic he sounds when he says, "Phil?" out loud. He sounds like he's crying, like he's scared. He sounds like that because he is.
Phil looks sharply over at him. "Dan? What's wrong?"
"I can't-" He swallows. "See. I can't see."
*
"Keep your head still, one more drop." Phil says. His fingers are cool against Dan's temples. It does nothing to make his eyes hurt less but it soothes the panic clawing in his chest. "It's going to be fine, you're doing so well."
"Not a five year old," Dan says, but his voice wobbles and his fingers clutch at the side of the bench he's stretched out on. He can feel Phil's thigh against the top of his head and though his good eye is bleary with tears he wants to keep looking straight up at Phil's face, because not to exaggerate the matter or anything but that face is literally the most comforting thing in the world to Dan and right now he needs it because he's definitely going to be permanently blind, all right. Under his breath he swears, "Fuck, fuck fuck."
He can tell Phil is smiling just a little as Phil's thumb strokes over Dan's cheek briefly. "Love, you're gonna be okay."
*
He's just wipes moisture from his eye for the twentieth time in five minutes when he hears his name being called by a young voice. There's a mix of dread and anxiety springing up hard inside of him but he swallows it down and is already smiling as he turns in perfect step with Phil.
*
They stand in the crush of a line waiting to board.
He knows it's Phil, but he still jumps when he feels a hand against his side. He turns his head slightly and finds Phil smiling at him, equally tired and still concerned. "Hi," Phil mouths, and presses in closer even though he doesn't need to.
Dan relaxes back into the feel of Phil firm and warm behind him. Phil's hand squeezes gently on Dan's slide, then slides under his jumper to stroke his fingers over bare skin. It lingers for five seconds, six, ten.
Phil only moves his hand when the line of people in front of them start to shift forward.
Dan could suddenly cry for a whole different reason than before. Phil must see the weird hitch in his breath, or maybe he doesn't, maybe it's coincidence, but when he starts to talk it's such a lovely distraction that Dan doesn't even hear what he's saying at first, he just likes the sound of it.
"Better?" Phil asks, just before they step onto the plane.
"Yeah," Dan says. His eye still hurts, but it's a slowly decreasing ache and the blurry vision is completely cleared. He's still exhausted, but once he sits down he doesn't have to move for the next eleven hours. What sounded like a curse before suddenly seems like a blessing. "Yeah, I think I'm okay. I'll be fine."
"You're better than okay," Phil says. "You're amazing."
It's a stupid joke. It actually makes Dan laugh. They're waiting for a man in front of them to load an impossibly sized carry on overhead. He turns halfway toward Phil, so he can see Phil's face when he says, "No, that's you."
"Well." Phil answers, smirking slightly. "My brand is half yours, remember?"
"Not ready to pack up and rescind that offer?" Dan asks. "I'm forgiven?"
"Dan." Dan's name on Phil's tongue is a yes and an always and an I love you all in one.
"Good," Dan says. "Then yeah. I'll be fine."