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It’s 2 a.m. and Phil is awake.
Not because he’s not tired. He’s exhausted. The travelling and all the shows and the lack of alone time are making his head hurt and his eyes dry. But he can’t sleep.
Phil’s not sure why, because he normally sleeps quite well during the night. Maybe because he’s on a bus, and the bus is bouncing and turning, and Phil is not used to having a moving bed. Or because he’s still jet-lagged, and he might be bad at math and at calculating time zones, but he’s aware of the fact that England and the US doesn't do stuff at the same time and this time right now is not what his body is used to. Of course that fucks with your head.
Or maybe he can't sleep because the bus is full of eleven other people, all sleeping in their bunks, and there’s unfamiliar breathing and quiet snoring and shuffling of bodies that makes the walls around them creak. It’s a new bus, how can it already be creaking like Phil’s old family home?
Phil’s also cold, which is funny, because they’re in the middle of Texas and the outside air is like an oven. But his thin blanket doesn’t do enough to warm him up, and the cold walls of his bunk are not something he wants to cuddle up against. He misses the warmth of Dan.
Dan.
The feeling hits Phil head on like a train. Of course he has trouble sleeping when he doesn’t have Dan next to him. Dan, who’s always been there, calm and safe, a big body of warm skin to cuddle up against. Dan, who balances the bed so Phil doesn’t fall off of it, and balances Phil’s life so he doesn’t fall off of anything.
Dan, who is sleeping in a bunk right across from Phil.
Suddenly Phil misses him so much it hurts. He misses the brown curls, the broad shoulders, the smell of his boyfriend that smells like home. He can’t smell any of those smells from here, it’s too far away, and the small curtains providing each bunk bed with the tiniest bit of privacy stops anything from seeping through. Which is good, or else he’d smell the morning breath of eleven other people in a few hours, but right now, those curtains are his worst enemy.
Phil stares up at the darkness that is the roof of his bunk. He really can’t sleep. And now he misses Dan too. It’s soaking his brain, making it hard to think, and the more time that passes he realises that he must do something about it.
He almost sits upright, but stops himself right before hitting his head on the headboard above him. He really doesn’t have to wake everyone up with a bang, not now when everyone is finally asleep. He pulls the thin, useless blanket to the side, and shuffles out of his bunk.
When they assigned the bunks to each tour member a few days ago, Phil had gotten a middle bunk, and he’s happy about that now. It means that he doesn’t have to crawl out on the floor, but also that there’s no risk of him falling on his head. He removes the curtain and carefully slides out, bare feet hitting the floor of the bus almost soundlessly.
He feels like a ninja on a mission. And his mission is Dan.
Phil only has to turn around, and then he’s standing in front of Dan’s bunk. He got a middle bunk as well, and they’re sleeping across the middle aisle from each other. Phil takes a second to have a quick peek at the other bunks, and relaxes a bit more when he sees that no light is visible from any of them. Everyone else seems to be asleep.
Goosebumps have erupted on Phil’s arms now, from the even chillier, air-conditioned air outside of his bunk. He’s wearing his Sonic pyjama pants and a T-shirt, more than he usually sleeps in, but it’s so cold to sleep alone.
When he’s got his human oven next to him in bed, pants are usually enough to keep him warm. But Phil's personal human oven is not in his bunk, but in his own bunk, and Phil needs to see him now.
Carefully, Phil removes the curtain in one of the corners, and there he is. His boyfriend. His safe space. He’s laying on his side, facing the aisle, face squished up against the pillow, and he’s breathing slowly. All the smells that are Dan hits Phil one second later, and it smells like home. Like safety. Like Phil’s life for the last 17 years.
He leans into it, trying to soak in the oasis that is the safety of Dan.
Then, out of nowhere, Dan’s eyes open, and he stares right at Phil.
”Hi,” Phil whispers with a smile. Because Dan is awake now, and Phil is happy about that.
But Dan looks scared. His cute, little squished up face is coated in confusion, eyebrows tightly furrowed, and his brown eyes struggle to find focus.
”Wha’?” he grunts.
”I miss you,” Phil whispers, and lifts his hand to stroke Dan’s warm cheek. Dan, still squinting and huffing and puffing, seems to calm down from the touch of Phil’s hand, and he nuzzles up against it. ”Why so surprised?"
”You scared me a bit,” Dan mumbles, and he has closed his eyes now again, peacefully resting his face against Phil’s hand. ”I was asleep.”
”I know, and I missed you.”
Dan opens his eyes at that, and looks at Phil.
”I’m right here.”
”I know. But it’s still too far away. I’m cold.”
”Of course you are,” Dan mumbles, before something dawns on him and he turns around in his bunk. When he shuffles back to face Phil again, he pushes something off his bunk and into Phil’s arms. ”Have this.”
It’s the merch hoodie Dan was wearing last night. And the night before that. Phil pulls it over his head in an instant, lets the feeling of Dan coat him, wrap around him, fill his senses. The fabric is still fluffy and soft on the inside, not yet ruined by hundreds of washes.
”Better?” Dan asks as Phil pulls the hood over his head, and tugs the sleeves down by his hands to create sweater paws.
”Mm,” Phil hums, because it is better. It’s not the best, but it’s better.
”You should sleep,” Dan says, and now he’s the one reaching out a hand towards Phil’s arm, stroking it through the fabric with his thumb. ”Get some rest.”
Phil yawns. He already feels more tired than just a few minutes ago. The soothing motion of Dan’s hand and the warm embrace of his hoodie is coaxing him into something peaceful, and he nods in reply to what Dan just said.
”Tomorrow we’ll sleep at a hotel again,” Dan adds, ”and then you won’t have to freeze.”
Phil smiles, and it’s working. Dan’s soothing words and a promise of a night in the same bed calm him down, and he can’t wait to fall asleep to get tomorrow to come faster.
”Thank you,” Phil speaks, voice low.
”C’mere,” Dan says with a tug at the hoodie, and Phil leans in, into the dark bunk, with the homey smells, and the soothing warmth. Dan draws him in for a kiss, and it's small, and chaste, but everything he could ever ask for. When they part, Phil can see the dimple in Dan’s left cheek, and Phil wants to dive into it, cuddle up surrounded by the smooth skin and stay there forever.
”Love you,” Phil says instead, because it’s easier than moving into his boyfriend's body. Easier than most things, actually.
”Love you,” Dan replies, voice low and sleepy and warm. ”Get some rest now.”
When Phil crawls into his own bunk a moment later, he’s finally sleepy. He curls up on his side, sweater paws drawn close to his face, and falls asleep to the smell of Dan.
Tomorrow they’ll get to share a bed again.