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“Hey, I know that it’s late, but I couldn’t stay in my own room, too many things and too many shadows, and you know, Stephen King,” Phil rambled as Dan reached for the lamp and clicked it on.
He looked so freaked out that Dan couldn’t help but lift up the covers and gesture for him to lay down. He swallowed his remaining words and clicked the door shut behind him as quietly as he could, a habit that formed after years of trying to not wake his flatmate up. His bare feet shuffled across the carpet as he made his way over to the bed, sliding under the blanket with ease.
He was wearing an old sleep shirt of Dan’s that must’ve gotten mixed up in the wash. He had on his glasses, having learned from the many nights he slept with them in and woke to pain, but he couldn’t sleep in them so he took them off and placed them on the bedside table before turning on his side to face Dan. Dan’s back was still firm on the bed, an arm tucking itself under his pillow. Phil had made himself small as possible, as if trying to become so tiny no terrible things could reach him. Dan couldn’t see his face, couldn’t be bothered to roll over, but was still worried in the pit of his stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Dan gave in and rolled over so that he was facing Phil, placing a warm hand on his arm and rubbing slightly. He hated when Phil was upset, but he could tell that this was simply the older man being afraid, which was very different from upset.
Phil turned to Dan, eyes wide in fear and embarrassment, and started to mumble about how he had started to read a Stephen King novel and got so wrapped up in it that he forgot about the time. When he decided to put it down he had realized how late it had gotten, and when he tried to go to bed he just couldn’t. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of killers and every noise made him jump.
Something about Phil, the more adult one between the pair, looking like a child really set something off in Dan’s heart. On camera he seemed silly, and while he was every bit as creative and excited in real life he was also very good at keeping calm in situations Dan lost his head in. They complemented each other well, but this comfortable balance smoothed over some of the more interesting parts of their personalities. He didn’t get to see the truly vulnerable side of Phil as often as he would’ve liked to, although he did see it more than anyone else, and this glimpse into his mind felt very private.
Dan pulled Phil into his chest without thinking, his arms bared to the air and covered in goose flesh. Phil brought up a hand and trailed it over the raised bumps, causing Dan to shiver against him. Their feet touched under the blanket, cold as stone yet somehow comforting. Nights like these didn’t happen very often, but Dan always had restful sleep when they did.
Phil’s hand reached for Dan’s own and slotted their fingers together, running the pad of his thumb over the skin, “You always know how to calm me down.”
Dan just cuddled the older man in closer, realizing that their breathing matched up and smiling to himself. The gentle rhythm of Phil’s breathing ghosted against his neck, the soft noises lulling him to sleep. He would trade the world to have this every night, the comforting mix of proximity and familiarity, as well as Phil’s soft voice that he reserved for nighttime, but he knew he couldn’t so he enjoyed it while it lasted. He closed his eyes and fell asleep to Phil rubbing circles on his back, completely at ease and on the verge of sleep.