Work Text:
The ring was absolutely stunning. No arguments there. Black, shiny metal band with tiny galaxy-coloured pieces of stone around it. Unique but not showy. Exactly the vibe Dan went for when picking Phil’s engagement ring – a simple band, roughly cut from a raw piece of meteorite.
And that was the issue. Dan had bought a ring and was working on a plan to propose, so what the hell was another ring doing in Phil’s underwear drawer? When he heard footsteps, he quickly returned the slim wooden box exactly where he found it and closed the drawer.
“Oi. Winnie the Pooh. Where are your pants?” Phil asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Wet on the airer in my room. I was just about to borrow yours. Did you call the guy to fix the dryer?”
“He’s coming on Tuesday.” Phil opened the drawer to a crack and pulled out a black pair that was likely Dan’s anyway. “Here. Go get dressed. We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”
Dan pulled on the pants and strode off, determined not to let Phil beat him to proposing.
“Phil, what’s the bag for?” Dan asked as they were ready to leave the house.
“Uh, you know, phone, keys, lip balm,” Phil replied, but something about that sounded strange.
“Just put your phone in your pocket; I’ve got the keys and lip balm. I can grab your phone as well. It’s a nice restaurant, Phil, please don’t bring the bum bag,” Dan complained. Normally he wouldn’t care, but normally Phil wouldn’t bring it in the first place.
Phil hesitated, then returned to the bedroom. Dan’s mind raced, and, driven by a pure survival instinct rising from somewhere deep in his brain, he made a glass of Ribena. Phil returned less than a minute later, and his pocket was bulging just a little more than it would if his phone was in there.
“It’s hot outside; we should have a drink before we go,” Dan said unnecessarily loudly, marched towards Phil, pretended to trip, and emptied the whole glass of the sweet, sticky liquid all over Phil’s shirt and jeans.
“Dan!” Phil exclaimed.
“Oh, shit. Oh, oh, I’m so sorry, Phil!” Dan set the glass on the table and rushed to undo Phil’s jeans while the older man quickly worked on the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll put it all in the washing machine. You go change, quickly, or we’ll be late,” Dan rambled frantically, almost knocking Phil off his feet as he snatched the clothes from him and rushed downstairs. He felt around the pockets and retrieved Phil’s phone, miraculously dry, and left the box with the ring in the pocket.
Dan threw the jeans and the shirt into the washing machine, ignoring Phil’s shouts from upstairs, and ran the longest program.
“Daniel! My phone!” Phil’s voice came nearer, and the next moment he barged into the utility room.
“Here,” Dan piped innocently, handing his boyfriend the iPhone. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“Be–because you literally ripped my clothes off of me!” Phil accused, eyeing the washing machine that was steadily filling with water.
“Well, let’s go back upstairs, then,” Dan said softly, trying to steer Phil out of the room, but the older man pushed back.
“No need,” he said and dug through a plastic basket full of clean clothes, picking up a pair of jeans and Dan’s black t-shirt.
“Okay,” Dan said slowly, calculating. “I’ll go upstairs, um, just to get a hat.”
“Here,” Phil said, grabbing the WAD hat from the same basket and wedging it onto Dan’s head. “Let’s go, then.”
Ever since Phil found the gorgeous meteorite ring in a small, glittery box, tucked in the corner of Dan’s bedside table under an old magazine, he had been watching his boyfriend like a hawk. He’d put a lot of thought into the galaxy ring, and he was determined to be the first to propose.
Phil had a hard time concentrating during dinner, which he booked specifically for this purpose. It was their favourite fancy place, strictly reserved for special occasions. Such as a surprise proposal.
“So, what are we celebrating?” Dan asked casually after the waiter cleared their empty appetiser plates and refilled their glasses.
Phil couldn’t help wondering whether Dan was onto him, but nothing in his expression implied that he was. Damn theatre kid, keeping his face straight as he pleased.
“We’ve sold out the whole tour,” Phil said, not quite sure whether it was true, but certain Dan wouldn’t check. “We’ll be busy until March, so I thought we could have a nice evening now, before we start rehearsing and pre-recording videos.”
Dan smiled. “Yeah, I like that. Thank you, Phil, that’s very thoughtful of you. and…” He shook his head, chuckling. “I can’t believe we’ve sold out, and so quickly.”
“Are you glad we’ve hard launched, bear?” Phil asked softly, reaching for Dan’s hand and placing a gentle peck on his knuckles. Just because he could.
“You can’t even imagine,” Dan murmured, watching Phil’s lips while his mind raced. He had to come up with a way to propose. Quickly.
***
“It looks so funny,” Dan giggled groggily, watching the screen. “Like… like… the Central Line tunnel. Or… like those that… worms dig. In the ground. Hope you won’t find a ringworm or something. That would be a jumpscare, right? Like, raawr. Would… be a great horror game.”
“Sure,” the doctor said, barely stifling laughter and gently pushing the tube with a camera further inside Dan.
“But–but rings… I bought my boyfriend a ring. It’s… made… me–me–rite. I–I’m g’ng to pro’se…” Dan slurred, barely keeping his eyes open.
“That sounds like a good plan,” the doctor replied. He asked something then, but Dan dozed off before the words reached his brain.
After his unexpected deep cleanse, Dan’s body started acting a little weird. He could have developed a new intolerance, eaten something bad, or caught a stubborn stomach bug, but after reading about possible risks of the procedure, Phil insisted Dan get himself checked out. And since he was already going to let a doctor poke around his business, he decided to go all the way in the prevention department.
The next thing he knew, he was lying in a bed, and there were some shuffling noises near him. His mind felt fuzzy and slow, like old TV static, and he wasn’t sure where he was or what had happened. He remembered checking in at the hospital with Phil and… then… something. There were nurses at some point.
“Don’t move, you have an IV,” someone said gently and touched his arm. Phil. That was his Phil. Dan immediately relaxed. “How do you feel?”
“Mphmf,” Dan voiced, not sure what he was trying to say. His throat was dry and limbs heavy as lead. He didn’t think he could move his arm if he wanted to.
“Here, have a drink,” Phil said as if reading his mind and held a straw to Dan’s lips. “Slowly, okay?”
Dan took two small sips and sighed in relief. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking in the harsh hospital light. Phil was sitting by his side, smiling. Dan felt a distressed frown settle on his face. The light was awful, his stomach felt funny, and his mind was floating.
“How do you feel, bear? They’ll keep you for about an hour, and then I’ll take you home, okay?”
Dan hummed briefly in response and closed his eyes again. His lips twitched in an attempt to smile when long, soft fingers carded through his messy curls. For the next few minutes (though it could’ve been longer, he wasn’t sure), he tried to pull memories from the drawers of his mind. He came in… Phil was holding a bag. Dan’s bag, which he’d packed the night before. He’d packed clean sweats, a hoodie… the ring box! Of course. He was planning to propose.
“Phil,” he said, opening his eyes again. “I want–I–si–sit…” His words came out barely intelligible, but Phil understood.
“I don’t know if you’re allowed. We’ll ask a nurse, okay?”
“Phil. My–my bag. In–in my… my bag…” Dan said.
“You can’t get dressed yet, Dan. I know the hospital gown is uncomfortable, but you have to wait.”
Phil knew what Dan wanted from the bag. He found the glittery box while checking that Dan had everything and trying to hide the wooden box there.
“No, Phiiil!” Dan groaned, frustration growing inside him at not being able to put his thoughts into proper words. “I want to… Phil…”
“Oh, you’re in pain, I get it now!” Phil interrupted, getting up. “I’ll get a nurse.”
“Phil!” Dan called weakly but his boyfriend didn’t listen.
Phil closed the door behind him. That was close. He looked around, his mind racing to come up with a plan.
He spotted a very young nurse with a tattoo of a chunky plush seal on her forearm, girl-on-a-mission walking down the hallway. Bingo. He quickly approached her.
“Excuse me,” he said frantically. The nurse halted, her eyes widening. Phil felt a little bad about startling a Phannie, but… greater good and stuff. “My partner just woke up after a procedure and he’s not feeling well. I think the meds might be wearing off too quickly. He’s very tall, you know, and he usually needs a bigger dose. It’s happened before that a regular dose didn’t work for him. He’s got, uh, a slow bloodstream or something. I don’t know what it’s called. He’s in pain and very anxious. Is there anything you can do?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the nurse said and followed Phil back to the room.
“Phil,” Dan groaned. “Will… will…”
“I know, bear, I know it hurts. This nice nurse will help you,” Phil said, walking to the other side of the bed and taking a hold of Dan’s hand.
“Hello, how are we feeling today?” the nurse asked with a professional smile, but there was a noticeable wobble in her voice and her cheeks were burning.
“I’m fi–OW!”
“Oh, Danny,” Phil cooed, hoping the nurse wouldn’t notice how hard he’d just pinched Dan.
“Phil, this is ri–d’lous!” Dan began to raise his voice, but his words were still slurred.
“Shh, I know, bear, shh, settle down. You’re scaring the nice nurse,” Phil gently reprimanded Dan. “She’ll help you.”
“Oh, dear,” the nurse muttered, turning to the computer screen by Dan’s bed. Phil took advantage of the fact the wasn’t looking, sneaked his hand under the covers and pinched Dan’s hip.
“Ow, Phil!” Dan exclaimed, slowly realising what was happening. “‘at hurt!”
“I know, I know, shh, I’m here,” Phil said, caressing Dan’s cheek and covering his mouth when Dan tried to speak again. As the nurse looked back, he quickly retracted his arm.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, then rushed off. Phil quickly glanced at the screen. He didn’t understand most of the medical jargon, but he knew what Midazolam as needed meant.
“Phil, I have to… I have to ask you something,” Dan managed to say. “Will…”
“Shh, it’s okay. You’ll tell me after. First, we’ll take care of you, okay?”
“Phil… my bag…”
“We can’t go yet, Dan. They need to keep you for a little longer. You’ll rest now, okay?”
The nurse returned quickly, and Phil suspected she’d run. He watched the nurse give Dan another dose of the sedatives, holding Dan’s arm and shushing him when he tried to protest, telling him it was okay and that he’d feel better soon, or not to disturb the nurse while she was counting his breaths. Finally, Dan stopped fighting.
“Phil… ‘ster… I… ‘ove… will…” and he dozed off. Phil’s heart raced. That was close.
“Thank you so much,” he said to the nurse, voice full of fake emotion. “He always gets so anxious, and it’s awful to watch when I can’t help him.”
“That’s okay. You did the right thing. We’re here to help.” The nurse smiled warmly, then, after a final glance at Dan, left. Later, Dan didn’t remember any of it.
***
“Dan, dinner!” Phil called through the wall just as he finished arranging the sauces in the takeout box and closed it.
“Give me my tendies,” Dan said in a funny gremlin voice as he barged into the movie room and sat on the floor. He grabbed the box of sauces, and his arm froze mid-air. There was a barely noticeable noise, but it wasn’t one a plastic sauce cup would make.
“Phil, would you bring me a blanket from my closet? The fluffy one?” he drawled, giving Phil the most innocent puppy eyes.
“Sure.” Phil got up from the sofa and off he went. He still felt guilty for drugging Dan and wanted to make him as comfortable as possible even if he didn’t remember it.
Dan knew he’d bought himself about ninety seconds as the blanket was tucked under a few bags of winter clothes. He quickly opened the cardboard box and, sure enough, the ring was there, hidden under the dips. He scrambled to his feet and rushed out of the room.
“I’ll make Ribena,” he called and jogged up the stairs. In the kitchen, he shoved the box of dips under the veggies in the fridge, made a jug of Ribena, and grabbed a bottle of BBQ sauce and Ranch from the fridge. He returned to the movie room just as Phil folded and arranged the blanket on the floor for him.
“Here you go, Philly,” Dan said, pouring Ribena into two glasses. He made himself comfortable on the blanket and rested his head on Phil’s knee. “Can I tell you about the game we played today?”
“S–sure, but Dan, where are the dips?” Phil asked, looking around.
“Here,” Dan replied, pointing at the bottles.
“But… but I ordered you a bunch of dips from the restaurant.”
“Oh! Yeah, they were warm from the chicken. I hate that. I put them in the fridge. So one of my friends, he found this indie game where you need to work together to hide a body…”
Phil tuned out after a few minutes. For the rest of the evening, whenever they needed something from upstairs, Dan insisted on getting it himself.
***
“Is your tie too tight?” Phil asked, quite unable to take his eyes off his partner in a beautifully tailored suit. Their matching grey and green ties got a lot of compliments from friends who knew about the symbolism, and thousands of comments on Instagram when they posted a picture.
“Huh? No,” Dan said, letting go of the elaborate knot. He was just a bit jittery. And for once, it wasn’t social anxiety. PJ and Sophie’s wedding was not a big event, and he knew more than half the guests. The ceremony was beautiful, absolutely perfect. He’d never seen PJ happier. That could be them sometime soon if he just managed to propose. But it seemed like Phil was always a step ahead. Dan even tried to propose during sex to catch Phil off guard, but then there were fingers on his prostate and his train of thought crashed and rolled down a cliff. But… but… Phil would not expect to be proposed to at a wedding.
“I’ll go get another drink, do you want anything?”
“Sure, whatever looks good,” Phil replied, checking the itinerary printed on nice paper. The wedding was video game themed, and they were about to play a special edition of Mario Kart gifted to the newlyweds by Nintendo.
Dan walked straight up to the bar but didn’t order any drinks. He spotted PJ standing there, chatting to someone.
“Hey, Dan,” PJ said. The other person grabbed their drink and left.
“Hi. Um. Can I ask you something?” Dan started, suddenly not so sure about what he was planning to say.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Um. So. I know it’s the tackiest thing in the entire world. But. I’ve been trying to propose to Phil for a while now, and it just never works out. So, um. I was wondering. Would it be too rude to propose here? It’s just–he wouldn’t expect it. We, erm, sort of… keep sabotaging each other.”
PJ stared at Dan in disbelief, his smile falling for the first time that day.
“What do you mean you’re sabotaging each other?”
“It’s a long story. So? What do you say? I don’t mean to do it in front of everyone, just, you know, today and here.”
“Dan,” PJ said cautiously. “Do you realise that if anyone heard what you just said, I’d be contractually obliged to punch you? Luckily for you, right now it’s up to my judgement.”
Dan sighed in frustration. “I know,” he whined. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid, and rude, and tacky, but I just don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you make a special video game for him?” PJ suggested. “He wouldn’t expect it there either. You can pretend it’s for the gaming channel.”
Dan perked up. “That’s a great idea! Hey, how did you propose?”
PJ shrugged, smiling. “Nothing fancy, really. After all those years, we didn’t feel like we needed it. I tied the ring to Fuji’s collar one morning and dropped a treat on Sophie’s face.”
Dan snorted a laugh, feeling stupid and silly for complicating the matter. He ordered a drink for himself and Phil, then returned to their table.
Later, Phil approached PJ when he was alone, asking what Dan was telling him earlier.
“Let’s say I saved you both a lot of embarrassment. What are you guys doing, sabotaging each other’s proposals?” PJ asked, not angry, just mildly amused and somewhat disappointed.
Phil huffed. “It got out of hand. I was going to propose and then he… never mind, long story. I could use some advice from a wise, married man, to be honest.”
“Hey, you know what you could do? Edit your proposal into a Buffy episode. I’m sure Dan won’t suspect a thing,” PJ offered enthusiastically. “And record it.”
“You’re a genius!” Phil exclaimed. After he left, Sophie, who was chatting with one of her bridesmaids nearby, came closer and rubbed PJ’s back to get his attention.
“Why are you a genius?” she asked.
PJ gave her a toothy grin. “You’ll see.”
***
Dan was lying on the sofa, scrolling on Phil’s phone, messing with his algorithm, when it suddenly started buzzing.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I have your Ocado delivery.”
“Oh. Right, I’ll be there in a minute,” Dan replied, then ended the call. He vaguely remembered that Phil mentioned ordering groceries. He jogged down the stairs and opened the door. As he tried to carry all the bags at once, he noticed a Coke bottle that read “marry”. He dropped the bag and rummaged through it, not caring in the least what the delivery guy would think. Sure enough, there were four bottles with the whole phrase. Damn those cute campaigns. As if names on bottles weren’t enough.
“Erm, I need to return these. We did not order these. Can you take them back?” He shoved the four bottles in the poor guy’s hands.
“But–I checked, it’s on the list–”
“No, no, it’s a mistake, we can’t have sugary drinks. Thank you,” Dan said, slamming the door shut. He carried all the bags upstairs, and as he was nearly done unpacking the freezer items, Phil came out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips.
Dan glanced at him. “You need to step up your seduction game. That fuckass mould towel is the most unsexy wearable item we own.”
“You’re in a good mood, Daniel,” Phil mocked and pressed a quick peck on Dan’s cheek. “Let me finish that, you were resting. Thanks for bringing it all upstairs.”
“No, I’ll help. It’s fine,” Dan said casually, arranging things on the table by the drawers and cupboards they belonged in.
“Hmm. Was there anything else? I ordered some drinks,” Phil said, looking around.
“Oh, yeah, the guy said he’s sorry, but they’ve run out of Coke. Apparently, it’s very popular now for some reason.”
“Imagine that,” Phil muttered.
After they put everything away, Phil headed to the bedroom to get the bed ready, and Dan, giggling to himself, closed all the cupboards and typed into his notes app until Phil called him.
“Hi,” Phil said when Dan showed up at the door and gently pulled him closer by his hips. Dan leaned in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist and kneading his ass through the thin fabric of his pyjamas.
Phil giggled. “Anything on your mind?”
“You,” Dan murmured in Phil’s ear, then smacked his ass. “Always. But I’m really tired. Lights off and cuddles?”
The meteorite ring was ready in the drawer. All Dan had to do was quietly pull it open and reach in.
“You’re so comfy,” Phil said, snuggled up to Dan’s side, his head resting on Dan’s slowly rising chest.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Dan slowly started moving his arm towards the bedside table, but then Phil’s fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled Dan’s hand back.
“Scratchies?” Phil requested sleepily, and what the hell was Dan supposed to do, say no? Phil was not going to be denied scratchies, not on his watch. So he ran his nails up and down Phil’s bare back, hitting all the right spots and drawing happy sounds from Phil.
Dan strained his ears to catch the moment when Phil began drifting off, so he could stop and quickly get the ring, but before he knew it, Phil was out. Luckily, they hadn’t had any rosé that night, so Dan wouldn’t have to endure any swamp sound effects as he fell asleep, but the gentle snores still meant Dan had wasted another chance. All he could do at that point was hug and roll Phil off to his side.
***
“Hey, you know what we should do? Watch Buffy for the Philm Club,” Phil said over lunch a few days later.
“Aww!” Dan cooed, grinning excitedly. “You want to share your little fun facts with the audience?”
“Yeah. Is that okay? Do you wanna do it?”
Dan nodded. “Of course! Sounds fun. Do you want to do just one episode or all your favourites?”
“One will do,” Phil said, smiling wide. Dan didn’t think much of it – it was Phil’s favourite show after all.
Phil edited the episode that afternoon, replacing dialogue in one scene with their own lines from their hard launch video while Dan was out running errands. It was beautiful, thoughtful, and deeply personal. Phil was proud of himself. He borrowed Dan’s laptop to do it, as his own was busy uploading videos. Dan’s, however, was infuriatingly slow.
“Alright, this is ridiculous,” Phil muttered to himself and started closing apps he didn’t think Dan needed. There was a keynote presentation for the tour, a nearly finished script for a new video essay, Photoshop with some work in progress thumbnails… and Blender with a model of a wedding venue with guests, a gigantic cake in the back, and a flowery arch.
Phil flinched, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage. What the hell was Dan doing? Upon a closer look, he realised it was a Mario Kart map. The scene was divided by a road. Phil’s eyes watered. Over the years, Dan had set the bar so high that nobody else in the entire world could ever come anywhere near matching the thoughtfulness of his gifts and gestures.
Tears blurred Phil’s vision, and he blinked, but they kept coming. He had the best man he could ever wish for, and he was exactly where he wanted to be. It didn’t fucking matter who proposed first. They could just talk about it.
“I’m home! Where’s my man?” Dan’s loud voice made Phil jump, and, suddenly terrified of getting caught and ruining the whole proposal, he slammed the laptop shut. A horrifying crack cut through the room, and the right hinge of the laptop snapped out of place. Phil stared in shock, slowly realising that he had placed his USB stick on the keyboard earlier.
“Oh my god!” Dan cried, making Phil jump and turn, guilt written all over his face. “Is that my laptop?!”
“Dan, I’m sorry–”
“You broke it?!” Dan strode to the desk and grabbed the device. He slowly opened it. The metal USB stick was buried deep in the shattered screen, and, as Dan lifted it in disbelief, the other hinge gave way as well.
“Why–how–what?” Dan said weakly, turning to Phil with a look of utter disbelief and confusion.
“I–” Phil trailed off, staring up at Dan. There was no good answer.
“Phil,” Dan said cautiously. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”
Phil sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry. I–I was editing a video and your laptop was slow, and I closed a few apps, and then I accidentally saw what you were doing in Blender,” he rambled.
“Fuck, Phil! Don’t you think that’s a bit far? Breaking my laptop so I couldn’t–”
“It was an accident!” Phil cried, springing to his feet. He felt like a schoolboy in trouble sitting in that chair with Dan towering over him. “I’m sorry, Dan, I–”
“No, you know what? That’s it. Accident or not, I’m over this bullshit. What are we doing, sabotaging each other?!”
“Dan, stop yelling at me!” Phil raised his voice, and Dan immediately shut his mouth at the sound of Phil’s hurt tone and took a deep breath.
“Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have,” he said, pacing to steady himself. “But Phil, don’t you agree that this has gone too far?”
“Dan, I swear it was an accident,” Phil urged, on the verge of tears. Dan’s voice was still agitated and his gestures too sharp for Phil’s comfort.
“Yeah, fine, fine.” Dan sighed. “I believe you. It’s just a laptop; it doesn’t matter. But we need to figure this out. If we keep sabotaging each other, it’ll end badly.”
Phil sighed, sitting down in his office chair. Dan got comfortable in his lap and wrapped Phil’s arms around himself.
“I’m sorry I shouted, okay?” he said softly, kissing Phil’s jaw.
Phil nodded, pressing Dan against his chest. “So how do we decide who goes first?”
Dan thought for a few moments. “How about Dan vs Phil on a livestream? The audience can help. We don’t have to tell them what we’re deciding.”
“Or… we do tell them.”
***
A few days later, the internet exploded, and the date became a new Phan holiday. It started with a simple Patreon notification: Dan and Phil posted a new Quip.
let’s beat the parasocial final boss, pham!!!
your dads have bought rings that will be exchanged on tonight’s stream! 💍
BUT 🛟
we’re making it a game 🤼♂️
give us your best ideas for the ultimate dan vs phil tournament in comments below! 🪐
see you on youtube at 7 pm UK time!! 🔔
According to a poll in the Dan and Phil Tumblr community, 37% of the voters believed Haribo (non-engagement) rings would be exchanged, 5% believed they were actually getting engaged with real rings, 24% believed the rings were non-jewellery (e.g., ring lights), 16% just wanted to press a button and the rest came up with the wildest theories as a secret 4th answer. The tag Dan and Phil was trending aggressively across all platforms, and a flood of articles came out.
“You guys… really want to see us suffer for content,” Dan laughed as the stream began. “The suggestions you gave us. Dear. God. You left twenty-six thousand comments under that post in just a few hours, and we are ready.”
“However, we are not going to do what the top comments suggested because we would most likely get cancelled, get injured, or break up,” Phil added. “And that would be a shame, because yes, despite you not believing us, we are actually getting engaged.”
“But we cannot decide who gets to go first, and we kept sabotaging each other’s attempts. So now it is in your hands. How beautifully parasocial, isn’t it, Phil?”
“Beautiful,” Phil echoed, trying to catch a message in the rapid stream of text on the screen, but the chat was completely unreadable. “You guys are going to be judges of the challenges we’ve prepared. Because this is not a classic videogame Dan vs Phil.”
“No, that would be too easy. And for that reason, we have PJ and Sophie here today.”
On cue, PJ picked up the camera, turned it to himself and waved. Then he aimed it at Sophie, who waved as well from behind a laptop.
“And because we don’t have a wireless streaming camera,” Phil added.
“Alright, listen up,” Dan said, getting to his feet in a battle-ready stance. The camera followed him. “The rules are simple. We are doing five challenges. You will vote for the winner of the first four under the video. The fifth will be judged fairly by PJ and Sophie. Whoever wins gets to propose first.”
“Guys, they still don’t believe you’re actually getting engaged,” Sophie said, her eyes flicking up and down the chat. “They demand to see the rings.”
“Shut the fuck up, you parasocial freaks!” Dan shouted at the camera. “PJ has them both in his pockets so we couldn’t cheat, take it or leave it. Alright, let’s do this.”
“The first challenge takes place in the kitchen,” PJ said into the camera with a game show host’s enthusiasm and followed Dan and Phil up the stairs.
“To find out which one of us is a better trad phusband, the first challenge is to prepare a stunning, delicious hot breakfast for the other one,” Dan said.
“Alright, Gordon Ramsay,” Phil replied uncertainly. “Why are we doing this? It’s not like we actually cook on a regular basis.”
He didn’t fool anyone, though – there were two trays with ingredients already waiting for them on the kitchen counter.
“Dan, what are you making?” PJ asked from behind the camera, zooming in on Dan’s hands scooping pieces of a ripe avocado into a bowl, mincing two cloves of garlic, and topping it with a light squeeze of lime juice and seasoning.
“I’m making Phil an avocado toast with a fried egg on top,” Dan said, mixing the ingredients swiftly. He then moved to the stove, where Phil was already melting a piece of butter in a pan.
“Phil, is that cheese?” PJ wondered, walking over to the other side.
“Excuse me?” Dan said, leaning over Phil, who was seasoning and gently beating the eggs.
“I’m making Dan a ham and cheese omelette,” Phil announced proudly, pouring the eggs into the pan and quickly checking the recipe on his phone.
“I’m fucking screwed,” Dan muttered and bumped Phil with his hips. “Move, bitch.”
PJ, though the profanity wasn’t addressed t him, got out of the way and filmed the partners racing to cook their eggs. Dan stepped away for a moment to toast the bread, and just as Phil folded his omelette, he loaded a generous heap of avocado spread onto the steaming toast and gently placed the fried egg with crispy edges on top.
“Wow,” Sophie said, clapping. “Do we get a taste?”
Dan grabbed a sharp knife and cut the toast into four pieces. Phil followed suit.
“Mmm. Hubby, I want this served in bed this Sunday,” Sophie said after tasting the toast.
“You’ve got it, wifey,” PJ replied, grinning. “What do the viewers say?”
“Wow,” Sophie drawled, raising her eyebrows as she caught up with the stream. “72% for Phil.”
“Bullshit!” Dan exclaimed. “They haven’t even tasted it! And my presentation is so much better.”
“They’re giving Phil brave points for touching cheese.”
“I’m brave,” Phil cheered, taking a bite of the toast. “Can I have this on Sunday as well? It’s delicious.”
“Not sure what Sophie and PJ will say if you get in their bed, but you can try,” Dan said flatly.
“For the next challenge,” PJ said quickly, “we’ll move to the kitchen table where we have some art supplies, glue, and scissors ready.”
“Wait, this isn’t going to work if Phil’s dead!” Dan exclaimed.
Sophie giggled. “Don’t worry, Dan, there’s no super glue.”
“And I, as the authority on crafts, will make sure that all fingers stay safely attached,” PJ added, taking a few shots of the setup. Then he turned the camera to himself. “For their next challenge, Dan and Phil have to prove that their spark is still alive. Not in the way you’re thinking, fanfiction writers. They’ll be making Valentine’s Day cards. They have to share supplies, but they’re not allowed to help or advise each other. Let’s go, guys. You have ten minutes starting… now!”
“Come on, Phil, we’ve been practising for this on the crafts channel,” Dan said, grabbing a sheet of heavy white paper and folding it in half. Phil followed his example, then tried to grab the scissors, but Dan was faster and started cutting decorative edges in a random, chaotic pattern.
“Keep in mind that the card needs to stand on the fireplace mantelpiece without support to reach its full romantic potential,” PJ said, walking around them with the camera. “And don’t forget to include a romantic message.”
Dan left one of the short sides straight and ripped open a few packs of stickers. While he focused on covering the top half of the front of the card with shiny hearts and arranging plants on the bottom, Phil covered his entire front page with glue.
“Oh, shit.”
“Phil!” Dan exclaimed as the exploding packet of black glitter sprayed a few specks in his face and on his card.
Phil laughed and opened a red pack, more carefully this time. He sprinkled glitter over the card, forming a red heart in the centre. He drew cat whiskers with a black marker in the middle of the heart and covered the rest of the surface with black glitter.
“Three minutes left,” PJ announced.
Dan muttered curses under his breath, struggling to peel off the last few stickers from the sheet. Phil picked up his card, sending a cloud of loose glitter drifting across the table. Dan took a deep breath and blew the glitter back towards Phil’s side, spreading it across the table, Phil’s clothes and the floor. They both burst out laughing.
“People are begging you to upload a cleaning video on Patreon,” Sophie said, sitting safely out of the reach of the glitter.
“Cinderella here will be happy to show you his cleaning skills,” Dan smirked and opened the card. He grabbed a handful of colourful pens and started writing, shielding the page from Phil’s curious gaze. “No peeking! Write your own.”
Phil opted for a black marker and a black pencil and got to work.
“Three… two… one… and stop! Hands behind your backs,” PJ ended the challenge and did a few close-up shots of both cards. “Beautiful. Now read what you wrote to each other. Dan, you lost the last challenge, so you can go first.”
“I’ll start the poll, get ready to vote,” Sophie said, typing on the laptop.
Dan cleared his throat dramatically and opened the card. “Phil, you are the most annoying, loving and creative person I know, and a fascinating blend of whimsy and piss jokes. Signed, your favourite business partner Dan.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Phil said, smiling wide. “Alright, now me. Daniel James Howell–”
“Not the middle name!” Dan groaned.
Phil giggled. “If you keep waking me up after you’ve had a bad dream, pulling unhinged faces when you’re happy, and making me a bowl of crisps after I’ve had a bad day, I’ll be a happy man forever. Signed, stuck with you forever, your favourite clumsy bitch.”
“I’m gonna cry,” Sophie mock-sobbed.
“Phiw,” Dan cooed, blushing and grinning so wide his laugh lines came out in full power.
“And the winner is… Phil! 59% of the votes,” Sophie announced.
“No!” Dan screamed. “That’s not fair, it’s rigged. Phil, what did you promise them?!”
Phil laughed. “Nothing. The people have spoken, Daniel. I’m the more romantic one.”
Dan turned to PJ. “So if Phil wins the next one, it’s over?”
“That’s right. But nothing is lost yet because the next challenge is… exercise!”
“Ha!” Dan exclaimed. “Phil has no chance here because the only exercise he does is walking from the bed to the sofa.”
“That’s not true, Daniel, I do a lot of exercise on both–”
“Alright, alright,” Dan interrupted, rushing to cover Phil’s mouth. “We cannot edit this out. EWW!” He squealed when Phil licked his hand.
“What does exercise have to do with this?” Phil complained, following PJ to the lounge where two yoga mats were ready on the floor.
“You need to prove that you’re willing to stay agile and take care of yourself,” Sophie said, settling on the sofa with the laptop.
“Next up is a yoga challenge,” PJ said, attaching the streaming camera to a tripod. “You’ll do three poses, and the audience will pick who did each better.”
“So bets of three,” Sophie clarified, setting up another poll.
PJ produced a stack of large cards with yoga poses and shuffled them. “To make it completely fair, we’ll draw the poses. Dan.”
“Alright,” Dan muttered, grabbing the first card he touched. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
PJ took the card from him and laughed. “Starting strong. First pose is One-Legged King Pigeon Pose. That sounds like something for Phil.”
“I’m not so sure,” Phil said, glancing at the card.
They both sat on the yoga mats and tried to follow PJ’s instructions. At one point, Phil rolled off and hit his back on the sofa, while Dan swore he pulled something. In the end, however, they both managed to get somewhat close to the pose.
“The winner is… Dan with 68% of the votes,” Sophie said.
“Fucking finally!” Dan panted, untangling his limbs.
“Phil, draw a pose,” PJ said, and Phil reached for a card.
“Two Limbed Plank,” he read. “That looks easy enough.”
They both managed to do the pose, but Dan immediately lost his balance and Phil won by a tight margin.
“Oops, Phil, people in the chat are asking that you pull up your shorts,” Sophie called.
“Bet that’s why you won, flashing people with your phu–”
“Daniel,” Phil interrupted.
Sophie drew the final card.
“Standing Compass Pose,” she read, giggling.
“Now I’m going to show everyone how flexible I am,” Dan boasted, clapping his hands together.
“You’re versatile, Dan, this is something else,” Phil said flatly.
“Oi! Shut up and get on the mat.”
Objectively, either of them could have won that one. Neither of them got even close to doing the pose right. But in an attempt at a swift swing of his leg, essentially to show off, Dan ripped his shorts and won the last one with 92% of the votes.
“And it was worth it!” he shouted, getting aggressively close to the camera while covering his crotch with both hands. Phil was lying on his mat, laughing his ass off.
“Dan’s wearing purple pants!” he called. “And there’s a hole in them!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Dan shrieked, carefully sliding out of the frame.
“This is actually perfect timing, because for the next challenge, Dan will have to change,” PJ said into the camera. "The score is two-one for Phil, so if Dan wants to stay in the game, he needs to step up his styling game.”
They moved downstairs to Dan’s room where two paper bags were already prepared. They both had picked an outfit for each other.
“Alright, let’s do this simultaneously. Dan in the closet, Phil in the bathroom, go change.
“Back in the closet I go,” Dan said gloomily, making Phil giggle.
PJ turned the camera to himself. “I have no idea what they’ve picked but I have a feeling it’s–”
“Oh my god, Dan!” Phil exclaimed from the bathroom, and then laughter followed from the closet.
“Put it on, Phil, and careful, don’t rip anything.”
Two minutes later, Dan emerged from the closet, wearing a white t-shirt with lace trim on the sleeves and the bottom hem, and a little white bow on the collar. It was tight and short, but he still pulled it off flawlessly. The bottoms were baggy black strappy jeans, and the outfit was tied together with Dan’s old spiked choker and black boots on chunky platforms.
“Wow, I really like this. Alright, Phil, come out,” Dan said, grinning wide and fidgeting excitedly.
“Can I just give Dan the point?” Phil called from the bathroom.
“Come here!”
Phil shuffled out of the bathroom, desperately trying to keep his knees together. “You’ll pay for this, lad.”
Dan burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Phil, you look great!”
“Hello, boys,” Phil said awkwardly, fidgeting with the black rosary.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you sister Philip,” Dan said, barely breathing and grinning wide. “Sister Daniel’s virgin cousin.”
“I hate you,” Phil stated.
“The vote is very clear,” Sophie piped up. PJ was completely speechless, obviously trying to think of something to say but failing miserably. His face was red with suppressed laughter.
“Well?” Phil prompted impatiently.
“Dan wins with 97% of the votes,” Sophie giggled.
“Great,” Phil said, scurrying back to the bathroom. Dan followed.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, trying not to laugh. "I really wanted a point."
“Yeah, I was just doing a bit. But you’ll pay for this nevertheless, you naughty boy,” Phil murmured, running his palms up Dan’s t-shirt.
Dan’s mouth fell open, and he stared at Phil.
Phil smirked. “This is doing something for you, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
Phil swayed his hips, then giggled awkwardly. “Alright, that’s enough.” He pulled the fishnets and the dress off and put his shorts and t-shirt back on.
“I’m keeping this outfit,” Dan announced and walked out of the bathroom.
“Alright. That was fun. What’s next?”
“The score is tied, and the last challenge is a blind taste test of your favourite cereals. We’ll need blindfolds and noise-cancelling headphones.”
“I’ll get the headphones,” Phil said and headed to the office while the rest of the group returned to the kitchen. Dan popped into the bedroom to get a couple of sleep masks. A few minutes later, everything was set up.
“Can you hear me?” PJ asked, waving in front of their faces for good measure. No reaction. The headphones were blasting loud music, and Phil was vibing on his bar stool.
“Alright,” PJ said, clapping his hands. “Sophie, can you start? I need to prepare something.”
“What’s happening?” Dan shouted.
Sophie pulled one of his headphones aside. “Just a minute.”
While she poured five different kinds of cereal into small bowls, PJ grabbed another and mixed a piece of Weetabix with oat milk and some baked beans.
Sophie giggled, glancing at the laptop screen. “Someone is asking, what did they do, what is that for?”
PJ looked straight into the camera. “They know what they did. Well, Dan does. Let’s go.”
Sophie tapped Dan’s hand, and he opened his mouth for the first spoonful. She repeated the same with Phil.
PJ pulled away Dan’s headphone, the camera close to his face. “What is it?”
“Crunchy nut.”
PJ tapped Phil’s arm.
“Crunchy nut!” Phil shouted.
“Alright, round two,” PJ said.
Sophie fed them Cheerios next. Dan thought it was frosted Surreal, Phil guessed right. After that, Dan correctly identified Choco pops, while Phil mistook them for Rice Crispies.
“Shreddies!” they both said the second the next one touched their tongues.
“Final round. This round will decide the whole challenge,” PJ said and hovered the camera dramatically over the last bowl.
“Bran flakes,” Sophie whispered before tapping Phil’s arm.
“Cornflakes,” Phil said, chewing.
Sophie gasped.
“If Dan guesses right, he wins,” PJ said.
“Cornflakes!” Dan shouted.
PJ and Sophie looked at each other.
“What now?” PJ whispered.
“Do they have any more cereal?”
“No, that’s it. Well, they’ll have to figure it out. Now watch.” PJ tapped Dan’s arm, and when he opened his mouth, PJ shovelled a heaping spoonful of soggy Weetabix and baked beans into it. Dan rolled the mixture around, and in an instant his face screwed into a disgusted grimace.
“Motherfucker!” he spluttered, ripping his headphones and sleep mask off. He turned to the sink and spat everything out.
“Where’s the next one?” Phil asked loudly, nodding his head in the rhythm of the music. Sophie pulled his headphones and blindfold off.
“Oh, Dan, you didn’t like the cornflakes?” Phil asked in confusion.
“What the fuck was that?!”
“That, my dear friend, was karma.” PJ patted Dan’s shoulder, grinning.
Dan opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. “Alright, fair,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “So who won?”
“It’s a tie, actually,” Sophie said, raising her eyebrows.
“Shit,” Dan sighed. “Alright, well, let’s come up with another challenge.
“I think you should give it a rest,” PJ said seriously. “It’s late, we need to go home. And you should have a chat.
Dan glanced at Phil to see what he thought.
“Maybe… it’s a sign that it’s not meant to be,” Phil said cautiously, but his expression was upset. “Let’s maybe sleep on it?”
Dan agreed and ended the stream. After he walked PJ and Sophie out the door, he returned to the kitchen, where Phil was nearly done cleaning up the mess on the counter. Dan touched his pocket to make sure that the rings he had taken from PJ were still there.
“Why did PJ feed you Weetabix and beans?” Phil asked, drying his hands in a tea towel.
“Don’t worry about it, I deserved it,” Dan said shortly, then opened his arms. “Come here.”
Phil snuggled up against Dan’s chest and sighed. "Now what?”
Dan sat them both down on the floor, leaned back against the drawers and pulled Phil into his lap.
“Now we realise how stupid we were, fighting to propose first when the solution is so simple,” he said gently, pulling the rings from his pocket. He handed Phil the galaxy ring and kept the meteorite one.
“On three, alright?”
Phil nodded, an excited smile creeping onto his face. Dan did the count and they put the rings on the other’s ring finger in sync.
“There. We’re engaged,” Dan said, smooching Phil’s flushed cheek.
“But we didn’t propose,” Phil muttered, admiring the ring.
“So? We never asked each other to be boyfriends, and look how well it worked out.”