You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
Dan felt himself crumple in half as laughter shot through his body, overtaking him. He jerked involuntarily, sliding off the chair he had been perched on and turning his melted chocolate gaze on Phil. Phil, who was giggling uncontrollably at the other boys reaction. Dan untangled his limbs and lay spread eagled on the floor, still beaming. He couldn't even remember what he was laughing about. Phil smiled down at him, sky blue eyes filled with love. Warming him; his sunshine. A look for Dan and only Dan.
His sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are gray
Dan collapsed, falling to the ground. He pulled his knees up to his chest, rocking slightly. The brown haired man tore through his hair, twisting his fingers into it, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. He felt warm tears drip down his wrists as he tried to keep quiet. Don't disturb Phil. Just an existential crisis. But he knew it was worse than usual. What was he doing with his life? He wasn't exactly famous; YouTube couldn't be his life. And worse, he was a leech; feeding off of Phil's kindness. He wrapped his arms around his legs and stuffed his face in between them to muffle the whimpers dragging themselves out of his throat.
Suddenly, a soft knock sounded from the door. He tried to make his voice sound normal as he said "Just a minute," but it broke halfway through and a small gasp lurched from his mouth as soon as the words were out. The knob turned, and Phil poked his head through the gap.
"Dan, are you okay?" His eyes landed on the broken sight before him and he instantly pushed the door open and came to sit next to Dan, folding his legs. "Hey, what's wrong?" His words were soft but streaks of concern shone through the calm layer, spilling out from the cracks in his voice.
"I don't know what to fucking do," the younger boy ground out, throat tight with anguish and stress.
"It'll be alright, Bear. I promise." Using that nickname that Phil knew only he could use.
"I can make some tea and chocolate and then I'll crush you at Mario Kart. Okay?"
Dan sniffed and nodded slightly, taking Phil's hand and allowing the man to help him up. Phil led him out into the lounge, giving him a sad, understanding look through pale lashes before disappearing into the kitchen. As Dan sat down shakily, he thought about how lucky he was to have someone like this, and he couldn't help but give a hesitant, watery smile.
His sunshine.
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
"Next," the woman called in a bored voice from behind the ticket booth. Dan jogged forward happily, the lights from the Manchester Eye shining in his vision. Phil followed in his wake with an equally bright grin. They handed over the small red papers, and she raised an eyebrow before repeating her previous order in a monotone.
The two men strode up to the Ferris wheel car awaiting them. Phil reached it early and unlatched the door, tugging it open to allow Dan in first. He stepped in after his boyfriend and sat down close enough for their shoulders to brush lovingly without being uncomfortably tight. Dan was acutely aware of each and every rustle and breath of Phil against his skin. The couple shifted slightly as the wheel turned to make room for the next people getting on and they drifted away from the ground before jolting to a halt, like a leashed bird attempting to fly before reaching the end of its rope. This continued until nearly all of the carts were filled. Finally, the wheel began a slow, melodic spin and did not stop. Dan could feel more than see Phil staring at him. A warm prickling sensation wound itself up in his stomach and spread to the rest of his body, a mix of nerves and ecstasy working its way into each and every cell in his being. He turned his head to gaze back into his boyfriend's eyes, glinting pale blue in the moonlight. Dan's gaze flickered down to Phil's soft, plush lips, resting for a few moments. Their light, flawless pink looked faded in the dark, dimly reflecting the moonlight. Then he drank in the rest of the other man's face; his delicately arching eyebrows, his feathery hair, his eyes like shimmering diamonds.
"You're so beautiful," Dan murmured, raising his hand to lightly cup Phil's smooth cheek. For a moment he considered pulling away, scolding himself mentally, but then the older boy's eyes fluttered partway closed and he allowed his head to sink into the touch. He looked up at Dan with a look of deep want, and his lips parted almost imperceptibly. An invitation.
Dan leaned forward, a cocktail of love and need burning in his gut. He was uncertain, never having kissed anyone before. Then, as if they had both received some kind of encouraging signal, the boys closed the remaining distance between them. Their lips collided hesitantly at first, gliding together gently and just enjoying the bliss and warmth of the kiss.
Gradually, they began to go faster, passionately moving against each other as though their lives depended on it. At one point, Dan's unoccupied hand had instinctively moved to the back of Phil's neck, and he was foggily conscious of a hand gently pressing into the small of his back, while another smoothed over his shoulders.
They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of an intricately beautiful puzzle finally finding each other, forming the perfect picture. And Dan knew in that moment that no matter how far he traveled, nor how long he searched, he would never find someone that completed him the way Phillip Michael Lester did. They belonged together, and that truth was infinitely complex yet infinitely simple.
When the pair finally broke apart to catch their breath, it was clear that Phil had realized it too. They leaned into each other again, softer this time. A kiss of love and protection rather than desperation. A proclamation of loyalty. A promise.
When they next pulled apart a minute or two later, Dan slumped over, resting his head on Phil's shoulder while his boyfriend gently played with his hair, which Dan had "forgotten" to straighten (He knew how much Phil loved it curly like this). They shared the heat of their bodies on this chilly night, holding onto each other like they were the last two people in the world. The twinkle lights on the Ferris wheel lit up Dan's vision, the way the man next to him lit up his world; providing happiness, humor, and even saving his life.
His sunshine.
Please don't take my sunshine away.
Dark. So dark.
The apartment had gotten cold and lonely ever since Phil-
No. Dan couldn't bear to think of it.
Bear. Phil called him bear. Phil loved him. Still loves him. Those were his last words after all.
"I love you, Bear."
No. No. No no no no no.
Dan's thoughts were chasing each other around his mind like cars, trying to connect one thought to another somehow.
A gun in his hand. Moonlight glinting off the sharp edges.
Shaking.
He remembered how moonlight had shone on Phil's lips on that magical night, so long ago.
Only a few years, though it still seemed so far away.
So impossible that something- someone- so wonderful had been stolen from him just like that. Why hadn't he appreciated his boyfriend even more? He had no idea…
Can't stop shaking. Sobs ripping from throat. Gasping. Wet face. Dry eyes.
Had to calm down.
Had to stop shaking so he could be with Phil. His Phil.
He couldn't do this anymore. It had been weeks, but he just couldn't survive without Phil. He had said that once in an interview; "Might as well just kill us both."
Dan had meant it when he said that. Phil had saved him. If he didn't have Phil, he didn't have anything.
He raised the gun to his head, still trembling like jello. He wondered vaguely how his legs were still managing to support him.
Finger on the trigger.
Heart thumping. So fast. Fast fast faster.
Cold against his temple.
"You took my sunshine. So I'll follow."
Click.
Bang
He was trembling so hard. Missed the right spot. Hot liquid dripping down face. Red.
Collapsed onto his knees. Crumpled forward. Turned onto his back with what little energy he had left.
Numb.
Now he could be with Phil. Finally, they could be together again. Dan had no idea what would occur after he died.
Blood gushing out, forming a quickly growing dark puddle on the floor.
Whatever happened, at least they'd be together. In Heaven or in Hell, in their reincarnations, or, as Dan suspected, in nothingness. In that black void of no consciousness or life. But he'd have Phil.
Shaking.
As the bullet had fired, there had been a spark. A flash of light.
Dan knew that flare of orange and yellow and white hadn't been the gun.
No.
It had been a spirit. A lost man. It's form as bright as it had been during life.
As Dan's vision began to fade and dark spots blotted out the empty flat that had for so long been a sanctuary, he saw an imprint of the light on the back of his eyelids. Now nothing more than an echo, a presence, here to comfort him as he died.
And he was at peace. Phil had made his life worth living, and Dan wasn't doing his out of hate for life, but merely to join his first and only love.
The world went black, and in his last breath, Dan whispered the name of this brilliantly light soul. Or rather, his name for it, for he knew who it was.
"My sunshine."