Chapter Text
he's too hot. it's fucking boiling in here. why is it so hot? it was september, for christ's sake. there was no reason for it to be this warm. his shirt is suffocating him, he thinks. his vision is going blurry. he can't breathe. he can't-
"...dan?" phil's uncertain, slightly crackly voice came from the computer.
dan stops. he stops breathing, he’s pretty sure.
say something, idiot.
"uh- yeah, s.. sorry."
smooth.
"..are you alright?" the voice is a little less uncertain, but the concern is palpable. he can't meet his eyes - not that he needs to, he's memorised exactly what they look like in the grainy quality of the camera - so instead he squeezes his own eyes shut tight.
"i-" he stops again, then takes a deep breath. he’s not going to get through this knowing phil's painfully concerned stare was laser-focused on him. "..yeah." he manages finally.
he feels so dizzy.
when the silence stretches longer than he's comfortable with, he peeks an eye open, and yep, there’s phil's eyes, his furrowed brows, his plaid shirt of the week™, his teeth worrying his lip, his-
"dan." the concern was beginning to become something closer to alarm. shit, he really should say something. something. he could spiral later. right now, here was phil. the amazingphil. on his webcam. worrying over him. because he couldn't string a stupid sentence together. god, why was he like this.
he forces himself to look at the screen. look at phil's beautiful eyes.
"i'm-"
"i could-"
they both pause, then laugh; both too nervously, both too quietly. nothing like their usual laughter on video calls.
"sorry, you-"
"you can-"
they both go quiet this time, and phil shakes his head.
"you first, dan," he says quietly. "are you okay? are you…" he hesitates a beat too long, but continues, sounding much more stable than dan thinks he had ever felt in his life. "..having second thoughts about this?"
his eyes go wide in alarm, then panic, then a dizzying sense of oh-my-god-i'm-going-to-vomit.
"WHAT?" he sees phil flinch from the sudden rise in his voice, and he kicks himself mentally. "..what?" he tries again, softer, and continues helplessly. floundering, for sure. "what- are you- do you not- what."
"no it's okay, it's fine dan, if you don't- if you don't want to meet me, that's okay. i understand, this is.. this is a lot, and i want you to be comfortable, no matter what." his voice was gentle in a way that makes dan feel like he’s going to cry.
"no! no i want to meet, i do, i want to come see you, and the tickets- well it'll be- you know. i want to see you- not that i'm not, uh, not that i'm not seeing you now but in person, yeah, i want to see you in person and i just- i do. i want to. come see you. soon."
phil's lips have turned up during his rushed ramble, resembling something of an endearing, if not cautious, smile. but he stares at him that way, quietly, for so long like this that dan begins to wonder if the programme had frozen. say something.
"sorry." phil says from the screen, and he only just realises he'd said that out loud. "you're, ah, cute when you get rambly."
he blushes. "phil."
"i said sorry!" he laughs - oh god, his laugh, dan was sure there was never a better sound in the world - and then returns to smiling at dan, but softer now, less worried. "i just-" he exhales loudly enough that it crackles through the shitty computer. "i don't want you to do something you don't want to do, yeah? if it's not.. this time, it'll be another time. i don't want you to be uncomfortable, bear."
all too suddenly, dan feels like he’s going to cry again. the nickname, so soft and tender, all because he was too stupid to use his words like an adult.
"you're not stupid." phil's voice is firmer this time, a no-nonsense type of way that he rarely uses but does just enough that it sets dan's pulse skyrocketing. "you're not stupid and you are not allowed to talk about my friend that way."
he laughs. not full belly-laughing, but enough that phil untenses his shoulders just a little. he doesn't acknowledge what phil actually said, instead opting to just smile, just a little, and then they go back to staring at each other silently, both minds racing, both of them nervous, despite their hours and hours of skyping late into the night, far later and more delirious than this.
"so."
"so." he repeats.
"you’ll book the tickets this week?"
"this week." he repeats again, in agreement.
"and if it's too expensive, please tell me. i'll help you cover it, no arguments, i just really want you- want to see you. as soon as possible."
"as soon as possible." he agrees again.
phil chuckles. "are you just going to repeat what i'm saying?"
"..are you just going to repeat what i'm saying?" dan mimics in a falsetto voice.
"i do not sound like that!" phil sounds offended but his lips are twitching upwards and dan knows he's not.
"i do not sound like that!" he makes his voice even higher, squeakier, though it hurts just a little. voices aren't meant to go this high without helium.
phil clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped several octaves. "daniel james howell. stop that."
he freezes, mouth slightly open. goosebumps tickle his neck, a shiver is running on his spine, and he has to clutch at his trackies with both fists to suppress it from consuming his whole body. "uh." eloquent.
phil's eyes are sparkling, in that mischievous, amused way they sometimes do (not nearly enough, he thinks), but he doesn't say anything. just watches. observes. it makes dan repress another shiver, feeling so vulnerable and like prey, like being circled by a hawk. but in a good way, if such a thing exists.
dan shakes his head, jerkingly he's sure. in his defense, the blood in his body has already rushed fully south.
"d.. don't." the words sound weak even to his own ears, and phil just laughs in reply. (again. best sound in the world. hands down.)
and then phil looks serious too suddenly; while dan is still trying to figure out how to get a grip on his ability to speak, he watches him mute his audio, then turn around to probably reply to something he didn't hear. when he faces the screen again thirty-two seconds later (not that he's counting), he looks apologetic. disappointed, even. he unmutes.
"ah, dan, i have to go," his voice, thankfully, is back to normal. cheerful, apologetic, and the correct octave that doesn't make dan's entire body feel like it's going to implode from blushing. "dinner with the family, you know how it is." one day, dan thinks, he's going to be there for the lester family dinner.
"you will one day." phil's voice is warm, full of promise. “but i want you- i want to meet you all by myself first.”
dan huffs a laugh, though his cheeks are getting redder from hearing phil talk about being alone together. he's got to get better at just saying these things in his head. "i hope so," is all he manages to respond with, unsure how to vocalise how desperately he wants to be alone with phil too.
a long pause, again. (seriously, this amount of staring should not be happening this far into their.. whatever this is.) dan’s thinking about how it’s going to be to sit down with the lester family one day, to listen to their laughs and jokes and feel phil’s foot kick him under the table when he says something cheeky. how it’ll be to catch phil’s eyes when his mum says something a bit silly, how warm it’ll be to be in the lester house. (he has no idea that phil’s thinking about the same thing.)
"bye dan."
"bye phil."
the disappointing bloop of call ended rings in his ears, approximately two seconds before dan's entire body fills with so much bone-deep nausea he stumbles to the toilet less than gracefully and hurls up his entire breakfast and lunch.