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After a few weeks on the road, they officially lost count of the cities they had visited, abandoned their semi-healthy meal plan, and stopped caring about whose underwear they wore.
But one thing Dan still struggled to get used to. The noise at night. With eight people crammed into about eight square metres of sleeping area and the bus moving across the US, there was bound to be noise.
Dan huffed and rolled over in his narrow bed. His duvet felt too thin yet too warm, the pillow was lumpy no matter how he squeezed it, and it was the third time that night Phil had got up to piss and woken him up. At home, Phil managed to navigate their house in the dark or without his contact lenses just fine. But on the bus, he tripped or bumped into something every single time and made even more noise.
Dan managed to doze off while Phil was in the bathroom, only to be startled awake when Phil stubbed his toe on the way back. Dan was too tired and irritated to have sympathy. He rolled over again in a desperate attempt to get comfortable.
“Dan? Are you awake?” Phil whispered through the curtain. Dan didn’t reply. Phil waited a few seconds, then climbed into the top bunk across the narrow passage from Dan and zipped his curtain shut.
Despite the night he’d had, Dan woke up first in the morning, feeling jittery and caged. The bus was still moving, and he had no idea when they would arrive at their next stop. He felt too awkward going to the front and disturbing the drivers, so he plopped down on the sofa in the lounge, opened the window and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. But only a few minutes in, he grimaced as he caught a whiff of something strange and chemical and quickly shut the window.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered to himself, looking around. He was starving. He sprang to his feet, immediately regretting it as he got dizzy for a moment and grabbed the tiny table to steady himself.
“Are you okay?” Emilia chirped, clearing her throat and pouring herself a glass of water. Dan hadn’t even noticed her enter the room.
“Yeah, just stood up quickly,” he muttered, then remembered to be nice. “How did you sleep?”
They made small talk for a minute or two while Dan made himself a bowl of cereal. Emilia found a protein bar in one of the cupboards, then returned to bed. Knowing other people would soon fill the lounge/kitchen, Dan went to the smaller lounge at the very back of the bus and closed the door, already feeling exhausted. But he didn’t get to enjoy his solitude for long.
“There you are,” Phil’s joyful, bouncy voice interrupted the silence, and Dan watched his boyfriend plop down on the sofa beside him, smiling lovingly. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, reaching into Dan’s bowl.
“Get your own!” Dan snapped before he could stop himself and moved the bowl out of Phil’s reach. Phil stared at him, shocked and hurt.
“Sorry,” he muttered, all the joy draining from his face and posture.
Dan took a deep breath. “No, I’m sorry. I just… I just need some alone time and some silence.
Phil opened his mouth, then closed it again and just nodded before leaving with a sigh. Dan instantly felt a pang of guilt in his chest, but he didn’t follow his boyfriend. He finished his cereal, practically forcing spoonfuls into his mouth as his appetite had left when Phil did, then put on headphones and started pressing buttons on the remote control.
He didn’t even bother to curse or shout when other players threw shells at him or pushed him off the road. An hour or so later, he noticed the door open out of the corner of his eye. He was ready to throw the controller in frustration or snap at the intruder, but the door closed as soon as it had opened, and Dan noticed a bowl of neatly arranged snacks on the armrest next to him. He huffed and yanked the headphones off. There were Haribo bears, salted pretzels, two Reese’s peanut butter cups, and a handful of M&Ms.
Dan sighed and sat there for a few minutes before slipping out of the room. Everyone was already up, trying to entertain themselves on the drive as best they could. Someone was reading a book, others were watching a film in the lounge, and Emilia and Leila were writing in a large sketchpad with colourful markers. Only Phil was missing. Dan turned around and slowly walked back, finding Phil in his bunk bed. The curtain was open, but Phil was facing the wall, curled up under his duvet. Dan noticed an AirPod in his ear and a phone in his hand, scrolling TikTok.
He stood there for a while, suddenly having no idea what to say. So he returned to the back room and sat down. He reached for his own phone and started typing. But nothing sounded right. Not even their made-up words felt sufficient. Then his phone buzzed, startling him.
Leila: we’re ordering lunch from this place what do you want?
Dan clicked the link and quickly scrolled through the offer.
Dan: fish n chips chicken tendies iced tea and dips
Dan: thanksssss
Leila: which dips?
Dan: all of them
Leila: bro they have 12
Dan: perfect
Dan huffed again and tossed his phone onto the sofa. Soon the bus took a turn, then another and another. Dan went to the window and saw they were stopping at a large car park with a petrol station and a tiny shop. There were a few lorries, another bus, and nothing else but fields as far as he could see. He was getting pretty hungry and a bit annoyed with himself. But he still didn’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since either of them had snapped at the other. And Phil was obviously hurt. And that made Dan hurt.
“Food’s here!” Leila screamed at the top of her lungs, making Dan jump. Okay. Plan. He needed to come up with a plan.
“Alright,” he muttered to himself, switched off the TV, and opened the door. The sides of the lounge/kitchen were already pushed out, creating more space but also hiding the kitchen counter from view at that angle. He saw Emilia and Leila leave the bus with their takeout boxes and cutlery, and then there was silence. Maybe Phil had left as well? But no, as Dan slowly approached along the narrow passage between the beds, he heard the clink of dishes.
In the kitchen, he found Phil standing with his back to the sleeping area, plating and carefully arranging food from takeout boxes. Dan recognised his pile of dips and the fried fish Phil had just placed on a paper towel to soak up excess oil. The guilt hit him like a hammer. He’d been awful and distant, yet Phil still took the utmost care to serve him lunch.
“Philly,” he said gently, then wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist. Phil stopped, and Dan felt his body tense.
“I’m busy,” Phil said stubbornly and tried to pull away, but Dan didn’t let him.
Dan sighed and placed a small kiss behind Phil’s ear. “I’m sorry I snapped. I shouldn’t have. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry. Thank you for serving lunch. I appreciate you so much.”
“Mhm. I wanted us to have a normal meal on plates for once,” Phil said stiffly. “Why were you so irritated this morning?”
Dan didn’t reply, only rested his head on Phil’s shoulder and rubbed his hip.
“It is something I did,” Phil accused, turning around, stepping away and crossing his arms.
“Phil, it’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
Phil watched him silently, waiting for the real answer.
Dan huffed. “Alright. But I wasn’t going to say anything – you’re making me. I’ve been having trouble falling asleep, and when I finally do, you wake me up every time you get up to piss and move around like a bull in a china shop.”
Phil’s jaw dropped, and he frowned, outraged. “I can’t help that, Daniel! I’m getting older, and my eyesight is shit.”
“I know. I know, Phil. I’m sorry I was mean to you,” Dan said, taking hold of Phil’s hand. He didn’t pull away. “I’ll get earplugs or something.” Dan sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” But you always have to know, he added to himself.
“I’ll try to move around more quietly,” Phil said as a peace offering.
“Or. Let’s blame it on others and tell them to clean up their shit from the floor.”
Phil laughed. “Yes, let’s create more tension, that sounds like a plan. Alright, let’s have lunch, you silly twat.”
They finished plating their lunch together, sharing a few things, and retreated to the very back of the bus. Dan spread a blanket over the sofa and put on Below Deck.
“Mmm. Fucking hell. Try this,” Dan said a few minutes later, after they got comfy and tucked into their meals. He dipped a piece of chicken tender into two of his sauces and held it in front of Phil’s mouth until the older man took a bite.
“Wow. We need to buy this,” Phil said, nodding to himself. Dan reached for his phone and wrote it in his notes app. He then shifted closer and leaned into Phil’s side. Phil draped an arm around Dan’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head.
***
Despite Dan being tired, the show went well as usual that night. They took pictures with the fans, answered some pre-show questions, did all the segments, and neither of them messed up the lyrics to the new song. For the first time, neither of them felt a wave of existential dread when someone in the audience yelled, ‘kiss!’. They didn’t kiss on stage, and they didn’t perform the much-requested Phil Squats either, but everyone seemed to be having a great time nevertheless.
Back on the bus, after everyone else had gone to bed, Dan poured a bowl of cereal and sat down next to Phil in the lounge.
“Choo-choo, bitch,” he said, raising the spoon. Phil giggled and opened his mouth, letting Dan feed him the cereal he had been denied that morning.
“Rat,” he said, laughing when Dan pretended to smack the back of his head.
“Shut the fuck up and let me feed you your stupid cereal.”
“They’re almost as good as frosted Shreddies,” Phil noted between spoonfuls.
Less than half an hour later, they both settled in their bunk beds.
“Good night,” Phil whispered, watching Dan across the passage, smiling and reaching out.
“Good night,” Dan echoed, locking index fingers with Phil for a moment before closing his curtain.
The bus fell silent after that, and yet, Dan still couldn’t sleep. He rolled over a few times, but it was pointless. With a defeated huff, he unzipped his curtain and climbed out.
Half asleep, Phil heard the movement but assumed someone had just gone to the bathroom. That’s why the gentle scratching on the wall of his bunk surprised him.
“Nibble, nibble, little rat, who is nibbling at my flat?” he called playfully, keeping his voice down.
“Piss off, wicked witch. Come midnight, my carriage turned into a piece of shit, and I’m dying of sleep deprivation,” Dan replied.
Phil giggled and opened his curtain. “Could I interest you in a magic wishing apple?”
Dan snorted, dropping the game. “Can I have a cuddle?”
“Sure, bear, come here,” Phil said, shifting all the way to the wall to make room for Dan. Well, room is a strong word, but Dan managed to climb in, zip the curtain shut, and snuggle up to Phil’s chest. Phil draped the duvet over their bodies and caressed Dan’s cheek.
“Can’t sleep again?” he whispered gently.
“Yeah. So I thought… maybe you not being there was the problem.”
“Mmm, maybe,” Phil mused, leaning in for a kiss.
Dan smiled and slipped an arm around Phil’s waist, savouring the warmth of Phil’s body and the way Phil’s fingers played with his curls.
“Yeah, this is much better,” he whispered, falling asleep almost instantly.
When Phil woke up, Dan was curled up next to him, face tucked into his arm like a cat, sleeping peacefully and gently snoring. Phil watched him in the soft light of the LED strip he had forgotten to turn off, then reached for his phone and took a picture. He posted it on his Instagram story with the caption, ‘woke up to a gremlin in my bed does anyone know what to do’, then put his phone away and intertwined his fingers with Dan’s before falling asleep again.