Dan had gotten angry once.
It had only been that one time and he hadn't meant to, of course he hadn't; he hadn't even been angry at Phil. He'd just had a bad day, some people had said some shit, and he'd needed an escape, just a little bit of a distraction. Phil had been there, of course he had; there with his words of comfort all ready to go, but happy to be silent as soon as he realised Dan didn't want comfort at that time. Dan had only ever wanted an escape, but he was in a bad mood, the wrong mood, and neither of them realised at the time. All that was understood that night was Dan needed nothing but Phil to focus on, and Phil was more than willing to be the centre of Dan's attention.
So maybe Dan had been a bit rougher than he usually was with Phil. Maybe that night had been a little more fucking than making love, but at the time, it was only ever pleasure through the pain. Phil certainly hadn't minded. It had been a nice change, he realised in the moment, throughly enjoying this more unrestrained side to Dan. And at the time Dan hadn't exactly been in a clear enough head to realise quite what he was doing or how Phil felt. At the time all that had mattered to either of them was getting as most out of each other as they could. There had been total focus on the act.
It had only been soon after the act that anything changed. While Phil fell asleep quickly and soundly, laying draped next to Dan in a post-sex bliss, Dan lay awake for hours finally feeling scarily calm after a long day that hadn't gone his way. The shock kept him awake at first, then the fear did; the terrifying realisation of what he'd allowed himself to do that night. It was unacceptable, he thought, repulsive. He'd never hated himself more. He'd gotten angry and Phil had been there ready with soft words of love and reassurance at the end of it all, but Dan had pushed that away and instead he'd taken that anger out on Phil. That had been his remedy; take all the frustration and hatred he'd felt for so many people today and transfer it in one violent act towards the one person who was never anything but there for him. It was disgusting.
What was the worst part, however, was that Phil hadn't said a word about it. He'd played along perfectly, which Dan knew could have been nothing more than a pained disguise. Had Phil been scared of Dan in that moment even, had he feared Dan would only have gotten angry at him too if he'd spoken out of turn? Dan had forced him into this submissive role without a second thought and Phil hadn't even trusted him enough to stop him.
At that thought Dan was forced to launch himself out of bed, barely making it to the bathroom before hurling up his dinner into the toilet. He still felt sick and he was sure he always would, because tonight he'd done the unspeakable and there was no going back. There was no forgiveness for a thing like this even if it was never mentioned ever again.
Feeling weak at the knees, Dan trudged back to the bedroom, a fresh wave of nausea creeping up when he saw his boyfriend had curled around his pillow in his absence. Phil was still fast asleep, oblivious to the regret Dan was experiencing now, but probably dreaming of a better place, a place where he didn't have such a disgusting excuse for a boyfriend. For the first time in a long time Dan tried to convince himself he didn't deserve Phil. For the first time ever he was painfully aware of how little love had shone through in any of his actions tonight.
Phil deserved better than Dan tonight, Dan had to do better by him. He promised himself he would as he collapsed back onto the bed, empty agony eating away at his soul, and the hole refilling with guilt as he watched Phil sleep. So precious, so scared, too scared to have said anything. But Dan couldn't let it slide, even if he knew he'd never be forgiven, and even if he knew how little any promises he made from now on would mean.
'I'm so sorry Phil,' he whispered, tears dripping onto raven hair at the same place Dan's lips connected a moment later in one, sad, last kiss.