Archive of Our Own

Dan won’t say he loves his current job. It isn’t what he dreams about or pictures himself doing in ten years. He doesn’t want to climb his way up the ladder until he’s a manager or even the head of this store. Or any store, really. Retail just isn’t where he wants to be forever.

He doesn’t hate it, though. He knows the regulars, can even converse with them as a semi-normal person, and he’s efficient at cashing people out and clearing the dressing rooms. It’s something he, at the very least, is good at. If he did want to pursue the role of manager, he reckons he’d be pretty decent at it.

Besides, it pays the bills, gives him enough so he can put some aside, and also occasionally splurge on a new video game or vinyl record he desperately wants. He could certainly be in a worse position, and he knows that.

Then there are his coworkers. A few odd ducks, and many that are older than Dan himself, but no one is particularly cruel or mean-spirited. He’s able to maintain professional relationships with all of them, exchanging pleasantries and small talk throughout the days. He might even consider a few as his friends. Very surface-level friendships; he wouldn’t invite them to hang out when they aren’t working, but it still fills a piece of the void where his social circle is lacking.

There is one coworker he likes a lot. Even more than the older lady, Ruth, who’d practically taken him under her wing on the first day when he was a nervous wreck, and that’s saying something.

Especially since Dan barely knows anything about him.

There’s something that just intrigues Dan to no end, even with the limited interactions they’ve had.

His name is Phil, and he’s new. It’s been a couple of weeks since his first day, and Dan is still too scared to approach him properly. Phil hasn’t struck up a conversation with him, either, and Dan can’t help but think that means the guy already hates him. It’s a bit infuriating because Dan doesn’t typically have this much trouble interacting with new employees. Usually, he’s very friendly.

He blames it on how intimidating he finds people his age, and not the fact that Phil is, to put it plainly, very attractive. Dan can’t go around getting crushes on coworkers. That’s bound to end horribly.

Their work schedules align almost perfectly, which just makes things more awkward for Dan. He says good morning, good night, and answers Phil’s questions when no one else is around. That’s it. Maybe it wouldn’t have come to this if Dan had been assigned to train the new hire. Alas, he was not. And maybe that’s for the best, because Dan does have a slight inability to coherently explain how the systems work.

So, they continue to dance around each other. Phil clings to Ruth’s side just as Dan had done almost two years ago. The job is daunting at first. Learning the layout of the store, all the unfamiliar faces, and the multitude of tasks needed to keep the floor looking presentable… It’s a lot.

The dam breaks the day Ruth calls out sick, meaning Dan becomes the go-to when it comes to working the registers. There are other employees manning the upstairs, though none have been here quite as long as Dan has. Essentially, he’s become the superior for the day.

There’s a manager in the office, so Dan isn’t left to completely flounder if something comes up that he doesn’t know how to deal with, but still. He feels like it’s him that everyone else is looking up to. Which, as someone in their early twenties, is terrifying.

“Hey, Dan?” Comes Phil’s voice, timid and unsure. He’s with a customer, his eyes staring intently at the screen in front of him.

Dan hums, shuffling over from his station to stand beside the other. “What’s up?”

“How do I check a gift card balance?”

Dan taps on the screen, slowing his movements enough for Phil to follow along. He won’t be able to explain it without making things more confusing, but he knows how to give a visual example.

“Does that make sense?” He asks once he’s finished, glancing over at Phil’s profile.

Phil doesn’t meet his gaze, merely nodding and repeating the steps Dan had just shown him. He does it exactly right, and Dan resists the urge to give him a pat on the back and cheer him on with a little more enthusiasm than would be considered acceptable.

The day goes on like that: Phil asking questions that Dan finds himself able to actually answer. Granted, they are all simple, and many are similar to Dan’s own when he first started, but he’s still proud of himself.

It’s not until the end of the day that they have a real conversation extending beyond work.

Dan is closing, as he does for all his shifts, and it’s narrowed down to just him and Phil up front while their manager closes out two of the cash drawers. There’s half an hour left, the time of day when they shut off the store’s music, and Dan is allowed to play whatever he wants from his phone. Well, not whatever he wants, he still has to keep it somewhat family friendly, but he can change it up from the typical seventies station that plays all day long.

“Any song requests?” Dan asks, navigating over to the playlist he’s made specifically for this time of night. He lets it play on shuffle usually, just so it doesn’t get repetitive, though he always ends the night on Semisonic’s Closing Time. It’s a tradition at this point.

Phil looks at him for what seems like the first time all day. “Umm…” He trails off, cocking his head and squinting his eyes as if he’s thinking very hard. “D’yknow Muse?”

Dan tries not to let his excitement take over the entirety of his face. “Yeah,” he says, as casually as he can. “Probably one of my favorite bands.”

Phil’s eyes light up, and Dan has a fleeting thought that he wants to be the cause of that look again and again, before pushing it into the depths of his mind. That’s a very bad idea.

“Mine, too!” Phil exclaims happily.

Dan smiles. “Cool.” He brings his attention back to his phone. “I’ve got a few on here. I’ll queue them.” Then, for fear of the conversation dropping altogether, Dan continues, “What’s your favorite album of theirs?”

“Origin of Symmetry,” Phil responds without missing a beat.

Dan snaps his head up. “Really?”

Phil nods, a little hesitantly.

Dan’s grinning now, a far cry from his typical customer service smile. “Same.”

That’s what they talk about in between cashing people out. The album, mostly, until Dan lets it slip that he’s taught himself how to play a few of their songs on the piano, and then Phil can’t seem to stop asking him questions about that.

“I’ve always been impressed by people who can play instruments.”

Dan tries his best to tamp down on the blush he can feel taking over his face. It’s not a compliment directed at him specifically, he reminds himself; it just so happens that he falls into that general category of people.

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat and taking a sip from his water bottle for lack of a better way to distract himself from saying something stupid.

It’s then, thankfully, that Closing Time begins playing through his phone’s speakers.

Phil snorts. “Good choice.”

“Thanks. I always play it last.”

“Do people ever get the message?”

Dan thinks about that. “Sometimes they comment on it, but it never seems to get people out of here any faster.”

Phil sighs wistfully. “The problem of the century.”

“Truly,” Dan agrees. “Especially when someone gets chatty, then apologizes for taking so long and says they know we want to go home, then continues to talk about something I, personally, could not give less of a—” Dan cuts himself off. He didn’t mean to go on a rant to a guy he was only starting to get to know. He’s trying not to scare him off, after all.

Phil has a rather amused expression on his face, though, so at least Dan hasn’t completely put him off.

“Sorry,” he apologizes anyway. “I didn’t mean to ramble like that.”

“That’s okay,” Phil says, a smirk on his lips. “I’d rather find out what I’m in for sooner rather than later.”

Dan shakes his head, chuckling. “We’d be here all night.”

Phil crosses his arms. “Maybe I’ve got time.”

Before Dan can process that, never mind come up with a response, their manager returns to the front. Greg is shorter, mostly bald with a greying beard, and one of the most sarcastically funny people Dan has ever met. So, really, they get along great.

“Wanna check soft goods?” He asks Dan, who nods and heads off to search the racks of clothing for any rogue customers still wandering around.

He finds no one, to his relief, and goes back up to the checkout counters. Phil is nodding along to something Greg is saying, smiling politely. He looks a bit intimidated, which Dan understands. He was also slightly scared of the man until he got to know him.

“No one,” Dan says simply, signing himself out of his register and grabbing his things.

Greg nods, wishing him a good night before Dan makes a hasty exit to the back, more than ready to hop in his car and head home.

He’s about to open the door when a voice calls after him. He turns, suppressing a sigh. It’s Phil, obviously. It wasn’t going to be anyone else.

He looks nervous again, for some reason. “Um,” he starts, “thank you for today.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. He hardly thinks he needs to be thanked for anything. “I was just doing my job.”

“Right.” Phil shuffles in place. “Well, goodnight.”

Dan doesn’t think that’s what Phil wanted to say, but he doesn’t push it. He still wants to get home. Socializing is suddenly too much, and Dan genuinely feels like he might start crying if he has any more impromptu conversations. It’s been a long day, and he’s overwhelmed. Too overwhelmed, even for someone as lovely as Phil.

“Goodnight, Phil. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hopes his abrupt leave doesn’t turn Phil off him. He’s trying to get away from everything, not just his coworker.

Closing the door of his flat behind him provides the great relief he needs. It’s dark, but he still navigates perfectly to the small lamp on the side table next to his sofa. Nothing ever moves around in here. He keeps the floors clean, and he’s never had any inexplicable desire to rearrange the furniture. He relies on consistency. When there are so many unknowns and possibilities around him, having things that he can control and keep the same becomes much more important.

His nightly routine probably isn’t the healthiest, but he can’t help it. He’s exhausted after being around people all day; the last thing he wants to do is be on his feet for more than he has to. That means a microwave dinner and eating it on his bed while he binges random YouTube videos until he convinces himself to get up and brush his teeth.

Despite his best attempts at going to bed early, Dan always finds himself tossing and turning for over an hour before finally passing out. It’s frustrating, and perhaps one of the worst things after a long day, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s tried it all: meditation, counting sheep, melatonin, relaxing music… nothing seems to help.

Tonight is no different, and while he doesn’t check the time, Dan is sure he falls asleep well after one in the morning.

It makes waking up that much more horrid than it usually is. His shift starts at eleven, but he likes having a good chunk of time before that. He feels more productive, in a way, even if he doesn’t do anything other than get ready. Dan supposes that does count as being productive. Self-care is important, and something he should probably incorporate into his life more often.

Dan makes it his mission to create the most serene environment possible during the drive to work. He has a very specific playlist for this, as well. They’re all songs that hype him up, giving him a final burst of energy before he has to interact with people for the rest of the day.

He finds himself growing more and more excited the closer he gets. It’s strange. He’s never felt this way before. He’s going to work after all; at a job he’s planning on leaving eventually, no less. Excitement just isn’t one of those emotions that gets thrown into the mix of everything else.

It’s when he gets inside and makes his way to the break room that it all makes sense. Phil is in there, busy brewing himself a cup of coffee from a machine that could probably use a deep cleaning. Dan can tell his eyes light up when he sees him, even if the other hasn’t noticed him yet. It kind of makes his heart plummet because, no, he can’t be feeling this way. That’s stupid, and it’s not like anything is going to come of it. He’s had one proper conversation with the guy. He can’t be falling yet.

Phil looks up while Dan is still deliberating on whether he should say hello or just keep going about his business.

“Hi,” Phil greets, the smile on his lips looking like he well and truly means it.

“Hey,” Dan says, moving to his locker and shoving all the shit he doesn’t need inside. “How’s it going?”

Phil shrugs one shoulder. “Can’t complain too much. You?”

“I slept like ass,” Dan admits before he can stop himself. He probably should have just said ‘good’ and left it at that, but alas.

“Why’s that?”

Now Dan’s the one shrugging. “No reason, really. I always do, no matter what.” Phil frowns, and Dan’s heart does a little flip. “It’s fine,” he continues. “I’m used to it by now.”

“Doesn’t sound fine,” Phil mumbles. He focuses on stirring creamer into his coffee before turning his attention to Dan again. “Do you want a coffee?”

Dan shakes his head. “No, thanks. I had a cup already.”

Phil grins mischievously. “Me too, but no one has to know this is my third.”

“Your third?”

It’s not a small portion, either. Probably ten ounces or so. And, assuming Phil’s last two cups were around the same amount, that’s a lot of caffeine.

Phil giggles, nodding. “It’s how I stay awake without getting grumpy.”

“I’d like to see that,” Dan says, because he can’t imagine what a grumpy Phil would look like, and he thinks it might be funny.

“See me in the morning without coffee, and you definitely will.”

Dan’s mouth drops open. Phil has turned away from him again, and he’s just close enough that Dan can see his cheeks pinken. Is that a sign that he meant it in a more flirtatious way? Dan can’t be sure, and he certainly doesn’t want to take a wild guess and risk making Phil uncomfortable. They barely know each other, after all.

“Right.” Dan clears his throat. “Well, I’d better head upstairs.”

Phil nods, unmoving as he stares into his mug. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sure.”

Dan leaves, taking his time as he climbs the stairs so he can gather his thoughts and compose himself. He doesn’t have time to process it all as he heads to the registers, so he pushes it to the back of his mind for now. He’ll overthink everything tonight as he struggles to fall asleep.

Phil joins Dan and another one of their coworkers soon after, and the three divide tasks amongst themselves. Dan gets stationed on the register, his least favorite out of everything, but he doesn’t complain. No one likes being there, and he’ll get to switch out soon enough. At least, that’s what he hopes will happen. Who knows, sometimes he gets left there for the whole day until he’s exhausted and pissed off.

Thankfully, that doesn’t happen this time.

His other coworker takes over for him after a couple of hours, and Dan gratefully makes his way to the dressing rooms, where he knows a mess will be waiting for him. Still, it’s better than being stationary, and the satisfaction of getting everything cleared out is nothing to ignore.

When he gets there, Phil is struggling with a pile of dresses, trying and failing to get the hangers in the same direction so it’s easier to put them away. Dan laughs to himself before walking over to help, silently taking half of what Phil’s holding.

Phil smiles appreciatively. “Thank you. That was a real workout.”

Dan snorts. “No one thinks about how heavy clothing can get.”

“Seriously.” Phil cocks his head. “Do you think if I do this enough I’ll get ripped?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dan says, “but I’m sure you can build up a little bit of muscle.”

Phil pouts. “You’re fit, though. Unless you also go to the gym.”

Dan knows he blushes at the compliment, but he tries brushing past it. “Definitely not. I don’t have the energy for that.”

“So are you just naturally strong?” Phil reaches out a hand like he’s going to squeeze Dan’s bicep, before seeming to think better of it and dropping his arm back to his side.

Dan chuckles for a lack of anything better to do. He’s not sure he can take much more of this, except he also never wants it to stop. “If it looks that way, you’re being deceived. I can’t lift more than this.” In fact, he is slightly struggling right now to continue holding these dresses the way he is.

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now, back to work before we get told off.”

They still talk in between putting clothes away, and Dan assumes this will probably be the most enjoyment he’s going to experience all day. Unless, of course, he gets to do something else with Phil where they can chat. Or even just be in close proximity. There’s something about the other’s presence that’s soothing, and Dan wants to bask in it for as long as he’s allowed.

Phil doesn’t seem inclined to let them part, either, as they both dither at each other’s sides before separating out of pure necessity. Dan wants, in that moment, to hang out with Phil outside of work. He wants a friendship. He probably wants more than a friendship, though he figures that’s a good first step. He wants to see Phil and talk to him without having to worry about customers or management or anything else. He just wants.

And, if Phil’s mannerisms are anything to go by, he wants at least some of those things, too.

The rest of Dan’s shifts that week go by in a similar fashion. Time moves slowly when he’s away from Phil, and it moves infinitely faster when they’re together. Dan never builds up the courage to ask Phil if he wants to do something on one of their days off, even though he promises himself every morning that he will. It’s hard, and while he doubts Phil will say no, he can never bring himself to do it.

Phil’s been acting strange, also. He strikes up a conversation with Dan, looks like he’s about to say or ask something, and then never does. It’s making Dan’s brain work overtime as he tries to figure out what Phil wants, with every answer he comes up with seeming stupid.

Apart from that, Phil is his normal, cheerful self. He listens to Dan’s rants, laughs at Dan’s jokes even when they aren’t particularly funny, and always indulges in chats about their shared interests. Which, Dan has learned, are pretty much identical. Video games, music, comfort foods, favorite TV shows and movies… It’s all the same. Their personalities are different, and yet they have so much in common. It’s a little dizzying to Dan that he’s so compatible with someone, and he can only hope that he isn’t alone in his feelings.

He can’t be way off base, because Phil is always throwing slightly flirty remarks into their conversations. It throws Dan off at first, until eventually he gets used to it and starts giving it right back. He’s not sure if it actually means anything or if it’s all meant in a friendly manner, but he likes it anyway. He ignores the confusion because it’s Phil, and Dan wants any and every interaction he can get with the man.

Which… seems a little extreme when he thinks about it. It’s just that he’s never had someone he can relate to and get along with like this before. His old friends were never this similar to him, not to mention Dan had kept one of his biggest secrets from them. One that, somehow, simply tumbles out of his mouth one day when he and Phil are alone in the break room.

“I’m gay,” he says in response to nothing. “Or queer or… something.”

Phil looks a little puzzled about where this is coming from, but then he smiles. “Cool. I mean, me too.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say; he hasn’t exactly thought this far ahead. “Oh. Well, that’s good.”

Phil raises an eyebrow, smirking. “And how is it ‘good’, exactly?”

“Just, like, it means you’re not going to make fun of me or something. And now we’ve got even more in common, so that’s nice. Also, I—” Dan stops. “Sorry, I’m rambling again.”

“I like it when you ramble. What were you going to say?”

Dan shakes his head. What’s going to come out of his mouth? He’s not sure. Either something normal or a confession that’s far too over-the-top and ruins their entire friendship. “It’s nothing, really. Don’t think I even knew what I was going to say.” He laughs airily, scratching the back of his neck.

Phil shrugs. “If you’re sure. Thank you for telling me, by the way.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Dan lets out a long breath. He should be honest, shouldn’t he? At least about this one thing. “You might be the first person I’ve told.”

Phil’s mouth drops open. “What?” He says, a little too loudly. Dan shrinks away, and Phil lowers his voice when he adds, “Are you serious?”

Dan nods. “I’ve never really had someone to tell, I guess.” He huffs. “Kinda sad that it’s happened at work.”

“There are probably… better places,” Phil agrees. “But at least we’re not up at the registers.”

“Yeah, true.” Dan shuffles a little, unsure of what to do now.

“Um, am I allowed to ask a question? Or would you rather I shut up?”

Dan motions for Phil to continue. “Go ahead.”

“I’m not sure how to phrase this,” Phil admits, “but are you open about it and just haven’t told anyone, or is it like an actual secret?”

Dan has to think about that. On the one hand, he more or less accepts this fact about himself. It’s something he’s tried to change and failed at, and now he just kind of deals with it. On the other hand, being out is entirely different than internally knowing he’s queer.

“I don’t know,” he finally answers. “I’m fine with it, but I guess I’ve never really had a reason to tell people.” Sighing, he adds, “It’s scary, isn’t it?”

“It can be,” Phil says. “It can also be liberating.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

Phil considers him. “You told me.”

Dan bites at his lip. “I did.”

“Any reason why?” Something about Phil’s expression looks hopeful, or maybe Dan’s reading too much into it.

“I trust you.” And I think I like you. Too much.

Phil grins. “We should hang out,” he suggests. “Outside of work. If you want to.”

Dan nods eagerly. “We should. I’d like that.”

How Phil can propose something so easily while Dan has been struggling with it for weeks is a mystery. Unless Phil has also been finding it difficult and has only now built up the courage to ask. Dan doesn’t know, but he does know that he himself probably never would’ve brought it up, so he commends Phil for taking initiative.

Despite settling that they both want to do something, Dan realizes when he gets home that they never actually exchanged phone numbers. Which is fine, it’s not like they won’t see each other again tomorrow, but he finds it funny how they forgot one of the more common aspects of friendship and communication.

Dan also just wants to talk to Phil more.

He struggles to fall asleep once again that night, though this time it’s because he’s too wound up with excitement. He actually came out to someone, and now it’s hitting him. Phil was always going to be a safe choice; Dan knew that deep in his core, but he still can’t believe it. This is a momentous occasion for him, and he allows himself to feel proud.

A feeling that is quickly swept away come morning.

He’s tired; he’s always tired, but this time it’s different. There’s anxiety in his gut, a swirling pit that makes him almost sick. He can’t fathom getting out of bed or doing anything other than tucking himself under his covers and sleeping until he feels better. It’s been a while since he’s had one of these days. Since Phil has joined the team, actually. An observation that Dan will dwell on later.

So, waking up feeling like the embodiment of pure exhaustion and numbness is a stark reminder of the battle going on between his ears and behind his eyes.

Dan gets ready anyway, because what else is he meant to do? Call out? He can’t do that. He’s not sick, and besides, maybe working will be a good distraction from all this. It’s not even the worst it’s been, he thinks, and it’ll only be several hours of torment before he can go back home.

He’ll be fine.

Maybe his typical morning playlist would have helped him cope, but Dan doesn’t put it on. He drives in silence, doing his best to pay attention to the road rather than the thoughts in his head. It’s a struggle, and he definitely zones out on more than one occasion.

He knows he’s made a mistake the second he steps into the building. His entire body is heavy, he feels like crying, and everything in him is screaming for him to turn around and leave.

But he doesn’t.

He heads to the back and clocks in before going to the break room to put his stuff away. Phil isn’t around, and possibly for the only time ever, Dan is thankful for it. He’s not sure he could see him without breaking down. That calming presence his friend exudes will be too much; Dan knows it. He’ll end up saying all the things he doesn’t want to, and he can’t have that. Not right now.

He’s going to see Phil eventually, of course. There’s no chance of avoiding him. Dan can only hope the store is busy enough so their interactions are limited. If Phil notices he’s down and asks about it, Dan doesn’t know how he’ll respond.

The second he gets to the front, he jumps on the register. There’s a line, and Phil’s alone. It’s what Dan wanted, anyway: a steady flow of people. Except now he’s realizing that having to put up a front and act all cheerful on top of interacting with people might be the worst thing for him to be doing.

Phil turns to him once the last customer is cashed out. He’s smiling. Of course he’s smiling. He looks happy to see Dan, and Dan can’t take it.

“Have you seen Ruth?” He asks, uncaring whether it’s impolite or not. He probably should have said hi, at the very least, but it’s too late for that now.

Phil’s face contorts. Confusion, mainly. “I think she went to price something; she should be back soon. What’s up?”

Dan shakes his head. “Nothing, just need to talk to her.”

Ruth, like the angel she is, comes around the corner right at that moment. She greets Dan, and Dan tries summoning enough energy to do the same.

He’s about to ask her if there’s any chance he can work downstairs sorting donations or hanging clothes because he just feels like shit, but before the words can come out, his hand flies up to his mouth as a choked sob escapes him. Ruth quickly ushers him to the back before turning and wrapping him up in a hug. She’s always been so motherly, and Dan has never felt more grateful for it.

He’s unable to hold back his tears, though he tries to control his breathing so as to not cause complete alarm by hyperventilating. Ruth holds him tightly, rubbing her hand calmingly up and down his back. It’s soothing, and Dan is eventually able to calm down.

“Are you alright?” Ruth asks gently, pulling back so she can see Dan’s face.

Dan shakes his head. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do this.” He means it in several different ways, though the most prominent one is being here today.

“That’s okay,” Ruth assures. “Would it be better for you to go home?”

“Yeah,” Dan rasps, clearing his throat and swiping at his eyes. He hates crying in front of people, but he supposes if he’s going to, Ruth is the best option.

Ruth nods. “I’ll let someone know, yeah? Are you good to get home?”

“I’ll be fine. Just need a minute.” He tries to smile in a way that looks assuring, but he doesn’t think it’s a very successful attempt.

He goes back to the break room and takes some deep breaths. He needs to make sure he saves any more crying for when he gets home, not while he’s driving. That’s a recipe for disaster.

Dan doesn’t say goodbye to anyone when he leaves. He sneaks out the back, nothing but relief coming over him as he steps outside. It’s a nice day, sunny without being too hot. Dan thinks about going for a walk, but he knows he won’t end up taking one. Stewing in his own self-hatred is far easier.

The only thing Dan does when he gets back to his flat is kick off his shoes, and then he flops onto the sofa. He can’t be bothered with changing into more comfortable clothes. All he wants is to lie down and rest, which he’s able to do successfully. It isn’t the most peaceful sleep of his life, though Dan will take anything over being awake and conscious.

He gets up once to retrieve his computer. He clicks on a YouTube video at random and switches autoplay on so he doesn’t have to think about what comes next. All he wants is a mindless activity.

Dan probably dozes off on multiple occasions, but eventually, he’s properly awake. The sky is almost completely dark, so Dan reckons it’s well into the evening at this point. His back is stiff, and his arm is cramping from lying on it for so long. He moves just enough to alleviate the discomfort, then contemplates going back to sleep. He’s hungry, unbearably so, but the prospect of getting up causes so much dread that he deals with it and stays put. He promises himself that he’ll eat something before he goes to bed.

His phone vibrates then, disrupting his spiraling thoughts. When he checks it, he sees it’s from an unknown number. Dan is about to swipe out of it, maybe even report the message as spam, and then he gets a second text.

Unknown Number: are you doing okay

Unknown Number: this is phil btw

Dan’s heart skips a beat. Both in a nervous way and an anxious one. Phil checking in on him means he cares, but it also means he saw Dan break down, and that’s not ideal. He’s embarrassed about it, that it happened in front of everyone, and it’s even worse that his friend saw it. His friend, whom he likes a lot more than a friend should.

Unknown Number: sorry, maybe this is weird of me

Unknown Number: i swear i’m not like… stalking you or something

Unknown Number: i got your number from ruth

Dan chuckles lightly. It’s the first time he’s emoted anything other than sadness and general sleepiness. He saves Phil’s number in his phone before doing anything else. He’s not even sure he’s up for replying. He’s struggling to stay awake, and answering a text isn’t the most important thing.

Except it’s Phil, and Phil is important.

It’s that reminder that causes Dan to muster all the strength he can to type out a response. It isn’t the most informative or helpful, but he doesn’t really want to spill his heart out to Phil right now. He wants the other to keep on thinking he’s fine, that he’s a funny guy who isn’t struggling as much as he is. That he doesn’t need to be worried over.

Dan: not weird

Dan: i’m okay though :]

Phil: are you sure?

Phil: i mean, you left pretty quickly today

Phil: that doesn’t happen

Dan curses Phil’s curiosity and attentiveness. He also curses his own desire to let his walls down. It’s easy to talk to Phil. Dan even considers him to be his best friend, whether or not that’s how Phil sees their relationship. It’s fine either way, as long as Dan knows Phil doesn’t mind the way he’s viewed.

Dan: yeah

Dan: just didn’t sleep well

Phil: that’s what you said last time

Except then it was the truth, Dan thinks. He probably should come up with more excuses than just the one, though.

Phil: i’m not going to push it, but i’m always here if you want to talk

Phil: or if you need anything at all

Dan: you don’t have to say that

Dan: i’m fine

Dan: wouldn’t want to burden you anyway

He should just accept the sweet offer, and he knows that. He wants to, even, but he can’t. His brain is telling him he can’t, that even though he likes Phil a lot and wants him in his life, he still has to keep the other at arm's length. Because surely if he lets Phil in, he’ll only run away.

Phil: you wouldn’t be if i’m offering to listen

Dan thinks his heart is about to explode. This man can’t be real. There’s no way.

Dan: i just can’t

Dan: i’m sorry

Phil: well, let me know if you change your mind

Phil: i’m your friend, and i care

A few tears escape Dan’s eyes. This has to be a dream. Someone as lovely as Phil can’t exist, and he certainly can’t be in Dan’s life. That’s too good to be true.

Dan: you won’t be if i spill my guts

Phil: try me

Dan: phil.

Phil: dan.

Dan: call me

Dan doesn’t know why he sends that message. Talking will be even harder than texting. It takes more energy, more thought, and just as Dan is about to say never mind, his phone begins ringing. He picks up because there’s no point in denying the call now.

“Hello?” Dan doesn’t particularly sound like himself. He sounds raw, more distant.

“Dan,” comes Phil’s voice, like a breath of fresh air that Dan so desperately needs. He almost doesn’t want to say anything else and instead let his spoken name sit uninterrupted.

But the silence feels awkward, so Dan speaks. “How are you?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Well,” Dan starts, shifting until he’s lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling, “now I’ve asked first.”

Phil hums. “I guess that’s true.” He’s silent for a moment before he says, “I’m well, but I’d be doing a lot better if I knew what was up with you.”

Dan chews on his lip. Maybe it will be easier to admit it all this way. “I have… issues.” Perhaps the vaguest thing he could have said, but it’s a start.

“What sorts of issues?”

“Mental health issues.” It’s practically a whisper, and a part of Dan really does hope that Phil didn’t hear it.

“Ah.”

Dan shuts his eyes tightly. “Please say something other than that.”

“Is that what happened today, then?”

“Obviously.” Dan sighs. It’s out there now, so he supposes there’s no point in hiding anything. “I thought work would be a good distraction, but it just kind of made it all worse.”

“Made what worse?” Phil asks, sounding so, so soft and gentle.

“Sometimes it’s hard getting out of bed,” Dan says. “I can’t take care of myself or anything. It’s like I’m useless for the day. Sometimes more than a day. Sometimes a week.”

“Oh, Dan.”

Dan’s on a roll now, so he continues. “The worst part is that nothing prompts it. This shit just happens for no fucking reason other than my brain being broken or whatever.” He sniffs, feeling his eyes well up again. “Other than me being broken.”

“You’re not,” Phil responds immediately. “Nothing about you is broken.”

“How can you possibly say that?” He’s perplexed. He’s just told Phil something that definitely shouldn’t be going on, and yet the other is claiming that’s okay.

“Because I know you.” 

That’s all Phil says, and while it doesn’t exactly answer Dan’s question, it’s soothing enough. Dan exhales deeply, collecting himself. He feels brave now, at least a little, or maybe he’s just so drained that all his defenses have dropped.

“Can I say something that you promise you’ll forget about by tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“I wish you were here.” Dan clenches the hand not holding his phone into a fist, preparing himself for laughter or ridicule or something disheartening. What comes out of Phil’s mouth next, though, isn’t any of those things.

“Can I say something that you promise not to forget about by tomorrow?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“I wish I was, too.”

The words hang in the air. Dan doesn’t know what to say to that. Does Phil mean it in the same way he did? Or is he just being a nice, supportive friend? Dan can only know if he asks, except he’s deathly afraid of what the response might look like. He hasn’t driven Phil off yet, but if he keeps this up, won’t he eventually?

“Dan?” Phil asks when Dan doesn’t reply. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. “I am. Sorry.”

Phil seems to hesitate. “Should I… not have said that?”

Dan shakes his head violently even though he can’t be seen. “No, no. I’m glad you did. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Maybe you could tell me where you live,” Phil suggests. “You know, so I can actually be there.”

Dan stutters. “I— You— What?”

“Your address.”

“I’m really gross right now,” Dan says, instantly wanting to slap himself. There are other excuses he could have given that weren’t the direct truth.

“I don’t care,” Phil argues. “You want me there, and I want me there. Nothing else matters.”

“Well, fuck.” Dan doesn’t mean to say it, but it really is one of those moments where there’s nothing else going on in his brain apart from those two words.

Phil chuckles. “Rendering you speechless twice in one night feels like some kind of achievement.”

“It probably is,” Dan agrees. “Fine, then. Since you’re so insistent about it.”

He rattles off his address, and Phil promises he’ll be there soon before they hang up. Dan’s still in a daze for a few minutes after, until he realizes Phil is literally on his way and everything about him is a mess. Somehow, he manages to get up and change into actual pajamas. He makes a trip to the bathroom to relieve himself and splash some cold water on his face. He doesn’t have the time or energy to hop in the shower, so that’s the best he can do. He has to admit, he does feel a bit better.

When he hears a knock at the door, Dan’s first instinct is to pretend like he’s not home. Except it’s Phil, he realizes belatedly, and Phil most certainly knows that he’s around. Phil also knows that Dan is most certainly not in a state to go out, nor would he leave the house voluntarily.

Dan gets up from where he’s sat back down on the sofa. He takes several deep breaths before unlocking and opening the door. He’s nervous for Phil to see him like this. He’s been tired and drained at work before, sure, but this is different. Dan isn’t fully himself, in a way. He’s a husk of a human, doing just enough to stay alive and nothing more. Even then, his food and water intake is still severely lacking.

Phil has a small, sad smile on his face when Dan sees him, and Dan instantly hates that look. He hates that he’s the cause of it.

“Hi,” Dan greets, moving away from the door and gesturing for Phil to come in.

Phil takes a few steps forward, enough for the door to close behind him, and then he’s wrapping Dan up in an unexpected hug. Dan thinks the contact will feel unwanted, but it doesn’t. He melts into it instead, even though he doesn’t move his arms to return the embrace. He just lets it happen, lets Phil’s comforting presence envelop him in a way that’s never happened before.

Dan realized pretty early on in their friendship that Phil is a tactile guy. He always puts a gentle hand on Dan’s back when he walks behind him, always pushes at Dan’s shoulder when he makes a dumb joke; if there’s an opportunity for Phil to touch Dan, he never seems to pass it up. It’s something Dan’s grown fond of, and as much as he wants to reciprocate, he hasn’t found the courage to do it just yet.

Maybe tonight he will.

Then, because Dan’s body is incredibly adept at ruining the moment, Dan’s stomach grumbles. Phil laughs lightly as he pulls away, though his eyes still look sad.

“Have you eaten?” He asks.

Dan shakes his head slowly. “No. Not since—” He stops. He can’t admit that he hasn’t had anything since last night’s dinner.

Phil’s eyes widen anyway, like he knows exactly what Dan was going to say. “So that’s what we’re doing first, then.”

Dan doesn’t argue, doesn’t even want to. He’s starving and more than ready to eat. The only thing is, he’d rather not cook, and he certainly won’t be asking Phil to cook for him. He’s also not sure what he feels like eating, which is another problem.

Phil wanders into the kitchen, and Dan finds himself scrambling after him. If he knows Phil, and he’s positive he does, he knows what the other is thinking.

Phil starts opening the cupboards as if he lives here, simply leaving them ajar when he’s done looking. “What do you have?”

“You are not cooking for me,” Dan insists.

“You’re right,” Phil says, still snooping. “I’m cooking for us.”

“Let’s just get takeaway, then.”

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan. “It’s getting late. All the good places are probably closed by now.”

Dan hadn’t considered that. He still hasn’t really thought about what time it is, though he knows it’s after seven since Phil is here. Around eight then, maybe.

He sighs in defeat, plopping himself in one of the chairs at the small dining table that he never uses. “What do you feel like?”

Phil shrugs. “I could go for some pasta if that sounds good.”

That seems as good as anything to Dan. “Cupboard all the way to the left. Middle shelf,” he directs.

Phil doesn’t make anything apart from the pasta, which is fine with Dan. He’s not sure he could handle something with too much scent or flavor. Butter is added so it isn’t entirely plain, and that’s it.

They migrate to the sofa once their meal is plated, with Dan immediately sinking into the cushions. He isn’t meant to be upright for that long on days like these, and it’s getting to him. He wonders if he’ll fall asleep after he eats and his hunger has been sated. He also wonders if Phil will leave if that happens or if he’ll stay.

Dan really hopes that he’ll stay.

Phil finds the remote, turning on the TV to something random. There are animals on screen, which Dan is content enough to watch. He’s not listening to what are probably very interesting facts, but he smiles when a clip of a sloth hanging lazily from a tree appears. Phil makes a cooing noise, clearly just as enamored with the creature as Dan is.

Their bowls are discarded on the floor once they’re empty, and Dan practically curls up into Phil’s side. Practically, because he doesn’t allow himself to actually touch Phil at all. He leaves a few inches between them, just in case. Maybe Phil won’t mind because he knows Dan is having a shit day, only there’s also a chance that the contact is too much and unwanted. It’s a risk Dan isn’t willing to take, so he keeps to himself.

It’s at least an hour later when the concept of time and what it all means dawns on Dan. He knows it’s late, yet he hasn’t really thought about how that affects the current situation. That is, it’s approaching bedtime, and they both have to make a choice about what’s going to happen.

Dan decides he’s going to be the one to bring it up, since clearly Phil isn’t going to.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” He asks, more than a little unsure. It’s terrifying to even offer when he so badly hopes for one specific answer.

“If you don’t mind.”

“You might as well,” Dan mumbles, fidgeting with his fingers and trying to contain himself from being overly delighted.

Phil places a hand over Dan’s. “Are you sure?”

Dan nods, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I— I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” Phil says easily. He wraps an arm around Dan’s shoulders like it’s natural, and Dan can’t help leaning into his side. It’s cozy here. Safe. For once, Dan finds himself free of the negative thoughts his brain continues to weigh him down with. It’s completely quiet.

They sit in silence, neither of them particularly paying attention to whatever animal is being shown on the TV. Dan’s not sure how many minutes have passed this time, but he’s brought back to reality when he notices Phil squirming. It wakes him up from the slightly dazed state he was in, and he sits up.

“What’s wrong?”

Phil glances over at him. “Do you think they’ll care we’re fraternizing?” He asks.

Dan snorts. Out of all the ways he could have phrased it, of course that’s the one Phil goes with. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“I was… kind of hoping so. If you also want that.”

Dan feels like giggling and kicking his feet, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns so he’s fully facing Phil and smiles. “I would love to fraternize with you, Phil.”

Phil grins right back at him.

“I think,” Dan begins hesitantly, “that you should probably kiss me now. If it’s not too soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Phil mutters, and Dan lets himself laugh this time.

Phil takes Dan’s head in his hands. He’s the one who leans in, but he stops right before his lips touch Dan’s, clearly waiting for the other to make the final move.

Dan does so readily. Phil’s lips are still a bit buttery, and they’re soft against Dan’s more chapped ones. He thinks they fit together perfectly nonetheless, and it’s easy for him to wrap his arms around Phil’s neck, drawing them closer together. Dan wonders if climbing into Phil’s lap would be a good idea, then almost immediately decides against it when he realizes what situations that position could put them in.

Which Dan isn’t against; he just doesn’t want to deal with that right now. Kissing is more than enough for him, and it seems it is for Phil, too.

The furthest they go is proper making out. Phil opens his mouth willingly for Dan, who gladly takes the lead. It’s easy, fun, and Dan wishes they didn’t have to stop to fully catch their breath after a few minutes. Still, he’s far from complaining about anything when he’s just kissed Phil. A fact that is going to take Dan days to properly process, he’s sure. Although from the awe-struck look in Phil’s eyes, the other must be feeling something similar.

“Wow,” Dan says. Gasps, really. He still isn’t in control of his breathing.

“Wow,” Phil echoes. He blinks rapidly like he’s trying to discern if this is a dream or not.

They just… stare at each other, both too afraid to move lest it ruin the moment and everything comes tumbling down around them.

That is, until it becomes slightly too uncomfortable for Dan and he clears his throat. “About your earlier question,” he starts, “I don’t think they’ll care. It’s not like one of us is in a higher position than the other.”

Phil nods. He looks a little spaced out, which is worrying. Dan hopes the other isn’t uncomfortable or suddenly regretting everything that happened. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that were the case. Quit his job, move to the other side of the country, who knows.

“We can keep it a secret if you want, though,” he babbles on. “It doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”

Phil seems to regain his composure at that, to Dan’s relief. “That sounds like something I should be offering.”

Dan shrugs. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind being a little bit open about it.”

A smile starts to spread across Phil’s face. “Yeah?”

“Not right away, I don’t think, but eventually. If that’s something you’re okay with.”

Phil presses his lips to Dan’s. There’s more force behind it, and Dan thinks it would’ve caused him to fall backwards if he hadn’t had the support of the sofa behind him.

“I am so okay with that,” Phil answers. He’s barely left Dan’s space, his mouth only centimeters away from the other’s, which makes it even easier for Dan to give him another kiss. It’s addicting, and Dan hopes he can keep on kissing Phil for the rest of their lives.

Which sounds dramatic, and perhaps it’s way too soon to feel that way, but Dan doesn’t care. He’s happy, and he’s going to let himself bask in it.

Dan yawns seconds after they part, only now realizing that the exhaustion he was experiencing before is still with him. While kissing Phil is invigorating, his brain is still tired and worn out.

Phil giggles. “Am I boring you?”

“Of course not,” Dan says. “Just… this day. It’s taken a lot out of me.” He plops his forehead onto Phil’s shoulder. It’s easier to be honest than he expected, and since Phil seems so adamant that he won’t be scared off, Dan reckons it’s okay to keep on expressing his feelings, no matter how dark they sometimes get.

“Should we go to bed, then?” Phil asks.

Dan sits back up, pouting. “Don’t want this night to be over.”

Phil pushes Dan’s fringe out of his face. “We have the day off tomorrow,” he states, and Dan looks at him sleepily, not comprehending what that means. Phil kisses his cheek before he continues. “I can hang out here.”

“Oh,” Dan realizes, a dopey smile appearing. “Well, okay.” He likes that a lot, and it’s even better when it’s Phil suggesting it.

“You’re alright with that, then?” Phil already knows the answer; Dan is certain he does, but he finds it so sweet that the other is still double-checking. It makes Dan feel like he’s allowed to change his mind and Phil won’t be upset about it.

Dan nods fervently. “Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent.”

Phil chuckles, leaning in and giving Dan a quick kiss. Dan’s heart thumps in his chest, and he wonders how long it will take for him to get used to the fact that he has this. That Phil is allowed to kiss him, and he’s allowed to kiss Phil. It seemed like something unattainable only hours ago, and now it’s a reality.

Somewhere during the process of standing up and heading to the bedroom, Dan’s body begins to act like he’s drunk. His steps become uncoordinated, and it’s nearly impossible for him to hold his head up properly. Phil takes the initiative to support him, placing an arm around his waist to help him walk. It’s a bit awkward for Dan, who would’ve liked to at least go a few moments without humiliating himself, but he’s just so tired that he can’t help it.

He sits on the bed immediately, then points at his dresser. “Get some pajamas,” he demands. “You’re not sleeping in your clothes.”

Phil complies, taking out a shirt and pants that absolutely do not match. The unsatisfying nature of it is wiped away, though, because Phil is going to be wearing Dan’s clothes. Dan loves it, especially when Phil turns around and strips his shirt off, exposing the pale expanse of his back that Dan cannot stop looking at. Every part of Phil is beautiful, from his body to his heart.

Dan turns his head when Phil begins shuffling out of his jeans. He fears the thoughts that will come if he gets the chance to ogle Phil’s bum. Thoughts he doesn’t want to have tonight. Another day, and he will most certainly allow them.

Once the other is dressed, Dan tucks himself securely under the covers. Phil goes to stand at the side of the bed, clearly hesitating. Dan looks at him expectantly, hoping Phil gets the hint and climbs in with him. It’s what he wants to happen, and it’s what he was going to offer anyway, no matter the outcome of tonight, because there’s no way he’s making Phil sleep on the sofa after everything he’s done.

“Come on,” Dan basically whines, lifting the duvet when Phil still doesn’t move.

Phil’s voice is quiet when he says, “Are you sure?”

Dan almost rolls his eyes at the absurdity of the question. Of course he’s sure. There isn’t anything he wants more than for Phil to spend the night in his bed. He wants to cling, to cuddle up to Phil, and show him just how appreciated he is. Dan isn’t the best at words, but he’s good at physical touch and acts of service, and he wants to use those strengths to his advantage.

“Yes,” Dan answers firmly. “Please sleep with me.” He huffs when Phil smirks. “Shut up. In a completely innocent way, you idiot.”

Phil shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. He slips in next to Dan without another word, getting close, but not close enough to touch. It seems he’s waiting for Dan to make the first move once more.

Which Dan does. Happily. He’s been drawn to Phil since the beginning, and that feeling doesn’t stop now. He rolls into Phil’s side, nestling his head into the crook of Phil’s neck. He hears Phil sigh softly. He sounds content, just like Dan is.

“I really like you,” Dan finds himself murmuring. “If you hadn’t already guessed.”

Phil kisses the top of Dan’s head. “I really like you, too. I like this.”

Dan hums. “Yeah, this is good.” A slight wave of insecurity flashes through him, and he adds, “Promise you won’t take it away anytime soon?”

Phil turns his head and puts his fingers under Dan’s chin, tilting his head up until their eyes meet. “If I have my way, I never will.”

“God.” Dan shuts his eyes tightly. It’s almost unbearable. While he feels the exact same way, wants to hold onto this forever, it means so much more when it’s spoken aloud like that. Saying it makes it more real than when it’s just a thought.

“Too much?” Phil asks.

“No,” Dan says honestly. While it is a lot, he’s pleased Phil’s experiencing the same things he is. That he’s not alone in wanting what he does. 

He should probably add more to that, except he can’t find the words to express what he’d like to. So instead, he tosses an arm around Phil’s middle, drawing the other impossibly closer. Phil puts his hand over Dan’s and squeezes. It’s all Dan needs. It’s all either of them needs to feel confident and comfortable in this.

They can have more important conversations tomorrow, or maybe the day after that. Whenever they want, really. There’s plenty of time, and Dan believes that with his whole heart. Phil likes him, and that’s enough. He’s not going to think about his future or the bad days that are sure to come. Right now, everything is good, and Dan is going to savor it.

He doesn’t think twice about relaxing into Phil’s warmth, letting himself get absorbed by it. It’s easy, it’s natural, and it’s definitely the fastest Dan has ever fallen asleep.