Phil was fiddling with it again. It was becoming a habit; any time his hands were free, his thumb and forefinger would absentmindedly trail to his left hand and start spinning the engagement ring back and forth. He was always one to speak his words through the actions of his hands: at this moment it very clearly said 'nervous'. Perhaps it was some mental sort of mantra in his mind, reminding himself of the idea of commitment that he'd signed himself up to ever since that moment he'd gotten down on one knee and held up the precious jewellery that let the world know he was in love. He paused, and glanced down at the silver band on his finger, his thoughts being the only thing to fill the calm silence, until the soft padding of light footsteps rose to the doorway.

"Phil, you ready?" Dan asked. He caught Phil's expression and immediately his voice softened. He'd caught Phil in this particular trance on an increasingly frequent basis, to the point where, for Dan, it was beginning to become a familiar sight. "Phil, if you carry on like this you're going to end up stuck in an existential crisis."

Phil looked up, chuckling. "Can't go stealing your branding, can I?" He got to his feet with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go," he said in answer to Dan's earlier query, still slightly jetlagged in his thoughts.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

They were later perusing through various suits displayed on one of many racks (at the back of a shop) nearby the changing rooms. So far, the morning had been spent with no luck in finding the ideal suit. "You know," Dan pointed out, "if you'd just decided to buy something online, like me, this would have involved so little outdoor interaction. And there would be decent Wi-Fi."

"Stop complaining," Phil retorted with a grin, "I want to do this properly."

"Aww, Philly," Dan cooed, pulling a stupid, wide-eyed expression, "what a wonderful husband-to-be you are, trying to do it all properly and have everything heartfelt and meaningful."

"Shut up," Phil said, rolling his eyes and biting back a laugh as Dan chortled beside him. "And hey, you're supposed to be helping me right now." He paused. "Well, actually, you shouldn't be here."

Dan quirked a brow. "I shouldn't?" He caught Phil's look and realised, without needing so much as an explanation, as to what Phil was implying. "Oh, right, traditions and that. Phil, I hate to break it to you, but I believe the actual tradition is that the groom isn't allowed to see the bride's dress."

"We're not buying dresses though, so I had to improvise somehow."

Dan shook his head and looked fondly across towards Phil. After all their years of friendship, he never thought it'd bring forth anything quite as remarkable as this. He could see the genuine endearment that had taken a hold over Phil the past few weeks in the uncontrollable beaming and the crinkling of his eyes, and could sense a mutual feeling in himself that made his heart swell.

"Oi, Danny boy, what did I say about helping me choose a suit?"

Dan groaned, and turned his gaze back to the rack of various suits, bumping his shoulder against Phil's as they continued rifling through the different pieces.

"What about this one?" Dan spread the suits out to present one particular piece; a slightly-bolder-than-navy blue, with black lining and black lapels.

Phil chewed at his lip. "You think so?"

"Well, I think you should wear a suit that sums you up. Don't go for a traditional black, please, it'll ruin the whole thing."

"Wow, Dan's warning me not to wear black: what has the world come to," Phil joked. "Explain yourself, Daniel."

Dan's dimple protruded as he grinned. "Phil, whilst you do admittedly look pretty good in black, I feel that keeping to traditions will only make the whole thing drag. I mean, come on, you've gone so far as actually going outside and trying on suits for the big day; do we need to conform to the idealistic image of what a wedding should be to its full stereotypical extent?"

Phil titled his head thoughtfully. "Must you apply your philosophical outlook upon everything we do," he whined. Dan knew Phil was only teasing – especially when the latter continued, "You make a fair point. Going for black would be pretty dull for a wedding that involves my usual colour-splosion. And," he added, a smirk dawning, "Did you say that you think I look good in black?"

Dan snorted, his cheeks dusting over with a faint blush: he didn't respond, simply gave Phil an 'of course you had to point that bit out' sort of look.

Phil only shrugged in reply. He swung his gaze back to the suit suggested by Dan. "Quick question: what's your suit going to be?"

"That would be telling," Dan replied, tapping his nose wisely.

Phil pouted. "If I'm not allowed black, then you aren't. It's only fair that I get to know what colour yours is going to be."

"What happened to the tradition of not knowing about the attire until the day?"

"What happened to that not actually being the tradition," Phil quipped.

Dan tutted dramatically. "Oh my god, we're getting nowhere with this," he said, exhaling deeply. "Right. This suit: do you like it?" He jabbed a finger in direction to the suit he was still holding out.

Phil bounced on the balls of his feet. "Yes… but I'm not sure it'll work on me." Despite his admirable growth in confidence over the years, there were still occasions when his insecurities would show face.

"The suit's blue: your eyes are blue. The lapels and lining are black: your hair's black. How could it possibly not work on you," Dan reasoned, before easing the suit off from the rack. "Here," he said, passing the attire towards Phil, "just try it on, okay?"

Phil made an incoherent noise, but reluctantly obliged all the same, and headed over to the changing room. Dan stood in wait, taking the opportunity to swipe through his phone to check for updates and attempt to find any sort of Wi-Fi connection in range. He had no such luck.

"Phil, hurry up," Dan complained, stuffing his phone back into his trouser pocket.

"I'm trying to fix my bow tie," Phil shouted back. In preparation for this trip, Phil had worn a plain white shirt and gathered a couple of his favourite bow ties, so that he could see if any of them worked against potential suits.

"I can do that for you, you goose: get back out here and let me see you," Dan responded.

After a sharp tug of curtains being pulled aside, quick footsteps came forth to reveal Phil. The suit (like all the others that were hung along the rack) was a two piece, and so came with a matching pair of trousers. Phil was fully dressed in the smart navy blue from top to bottom, the lapels complimenting Phil's stark mess of hair (just as Dan had predicted it would). The bow tie hung in wait to be attended to around Phil's neck, the collar having been tugged askew for such a task.

Dan couldn't help but stare. To be fair, part of his job here in the first place was to make judgements on how the suits looked, so he'd done a fair bit of ogling at the previous suggestions (not only in approval, but in some cases in amusement or horror) – yet there was something about this one that gave him pause. The whole thing accentuated every aspect of Phil beautifully, from his sharp jawline to his height and everything in between; Dan wondered how on earth Phil was being so bashful.

"What d'you think," Phil queried, throwing out his arms and looking over to Dan.

Dan quickly wet his lips, and subsequently realised he needed to close his mouth (which had most definitely not slackened and hung ajar upon Phil's appearance), and cleared his throat. "I- I love it," he said simply, quite uncertain as to where to start. All his comments were piling up in his mind, half of which he didn't want to admit to aloud.

"You love it?" Clearly Dan's words had somehow been enough to summarise all his internal thoughts, or maybe his expression had shown his genuine awe, because Phil's reply sounded utterly overjoyed. Dan smiled. Phil twirled on the spot, taking in the suit himself before looking hopefully back to Dan.

"You look gorgeous, now come here," Dan instructed, and swiftly brought focus to bringing Phil's bow tie to an acceptable state.

"Gorgeous, eh?" Phil's eyebrow quirked mischievously.

"Shut up," Dan said, straightening Phil's collar. He brushed down Phil's lapels (not that they really needed it) and stood back to scrutinise the completed look. Well: almost completed look. "It looks great with those socks," Dan smirked.

Phil looked down and wriggled his toes, eyeing the mismatched owl vs shark print socks. "Oh, that's a relief. Won't have to worry about having to buy shoes then." He laughed.

The pair fell to a comfortable silence, both eyeing Phil's suit. "What do you think," Dan asked softly. "Do you like it?"

Phil pressed his lips together and drew his eyes across to Dan. The latter's reaction had been enough to sell it for Phil; and it was also very comfortable to wear. "I do," he replied just as softly.

Dan's cheeks flushed at the choice of words, but he determinedly kept his eyes on Phil's to check for the sincerity in Phil's response: he wanted Phil to be sure about his final decision just as much as Phil did. "Alright, well: let's get it then," Dan declared, patting Phil grandly on the shoulders.

"You're not going to try and find a suit for you, then?"

"Phil, that's what the internet is for. Do I look like I can be bothered to get changed in and out of twenty different suits? I, unlike you, do not sink low enough to feel I must oblige to the likes of tradition," he said, emphasising the word by turning his nose up at the very notion. "The sooner we get home, the better."

Phil, thankfully, could see straight through Dan's supposed irritation. "Come on, tell me you didn't enjoy this," he said, pretending to frown in mock hurt.

"Urgh." Dan glared at Phil. "Okay," he relented after a pause, "I enjoyed it… a tiny bit." Phil whined in protest. "Fine, I enjoyed it immensely, it was the best shopping trip of my life. God, stop pressuring me."

Phil smiled happily, carding a rogue hand through Dan's curls of hair (much to the younger's dismay). "Never."

Dan failed to dodge out of the way in time. "Why do I put up with you," he sighed, his hair sprawled in an unkempt manner across his forehead and his cheeks blushing furiously.

"Because you love me?" Phil tried, his tongue poking between his teeth.

"Ew."

oooOOOoooOOOooo

"Louise, I can't do it."

"What?" came the startled shriek from the other end of the phone. "What do you mean, you can't do it?"

"It's too much," Phil answered in panic. He was talking on his mobile, pacing in his room, and was trying to keep his voice down: he could hear Dan watching television from within the lounge, so he knew the latter was distracted, but there wasn't much harm in being too careful. "I'm scared about the commitment. And everything that happens after it. Everything's changing, even now, and I'm not sure I can cope with all of this-"

"Phil." Louise had managed to calm down once Phil had explained himself (and, she reasoned to herself, it was only logical that one of them had to be calm, if this conversation was going to get anywhere). "Marriage is a life changing thing. You know that: you told me that in all these months of preparation for the proposal. Of course things will change. But it changes in a good way. That's why you were able to propose. Phil, don't let commitment worry you if you were able to get down and do the proposal. With the courage it takes to do that, I know that you're capable of handling everything that comes with it."

Phil worried his lip. "I know," he murmured in understanding, "but… I'm just troubled. What if it all goes horribly wrong?"

"It won't," Louise assured. "Phil, the wedding's only days away now: these sorts of anxieties are common for everyone to go through at this point. Once it's over you'll question why you ever got so wound up over the whole thing."

Phil nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I guess." His breath hitched as the main plaguing thought swam to the forefront of his mind, yet it failed to leave his lips without his tongue twisting and his words jumbling.

The extended pause piqued Louise's suspicions. "There's something else, isn't there," she said knowingly; it wasn't a question.

Phil nervously licked his lips. "I… it's going to sound stupid, I know, but… I can't tell how Dan feels about this. How he really feels. I'm spending half my time panicking, and he's so… composed."

"Dan?" Phil could hear the smile in Louse's voice. "He's over the moon, I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course he is," Louise confirmed. "If you're that unsure, ask him. But Phil, stop worrying. It's going to go perfectly. Touch wood," she added with a light giggle.

Phil bit back a wane grin. "Thanks, Louise."

oooOOOoooOOOooo

"You know, I kinda preferred it when your nerves were displayed through the constant twisting of your ring, to be honest."

"Your sarcasm is duly noted," Phil snapped, running his hands through his hair.

Dan chuckled. "Phil, relax."

"Relax?! You're not even dressed yet!"

"Neither are you," Dan pointed out leisurely, leaning back against the counter in the kitchen, and indicating to Phil's fluffy pyjama bottoms and oversized tee with a nod.

"I'm not even dressed yet!" Phil squawked.

"It's seven in the morning, Phil: we literally have hours to get ready."

Phil shot Dan with a wide eyed glare – that, combined with his hair sticking up in places and his hand gestures running wild, made him resemble something of a mad man. "Why are you so calm? Why is everybody so calm? How is everyone managing to remain so completely calm?!"

"Hey," Dan soothed, reaching over to rest a hand on Phil's shoulder. "This is normal. It's normal to be panicking."

"Then why aren't you panicking?"

"Because running around like a headless chicken requires a great deal of energy. It could almost count as being exercise," Dan remarked with a smirk. "Now, maybe if you get some tea into your system, then it'll relieve some of the pent-up stress."

"But I prefer coffee."

"And coffee's really going to help with your current raging adrenaline, is it," Dan retorted. "I don't think so. Look: I'll even let you have some of my cereal, if you want. I'll allow you to eat it, on this one-off occasion. See how considerate I'm being? You really don't deserve me, you know."

"Shut up," Phil laughed, poking Dan's arm.

oooOOOoooOOOooo

"I'd dearly love to know why Chris is currently saving Phil from a meltdown," said a smooth voice in Dan's ear. He turned, to catch sight of Pj standing beside him, the pair of them stood at the front row of chairs laid out within the center of the church. It was, Dan smiled to himself, a traditional venue, but eloquent nonetheless. The architecture was incredibly beautiful, and the decorations were simplistic yet pretty: nothing too gaudy. It was the first time he'd seen Pj that day – in a considerable while, in fact – so he embraced the elder in a tight hug before answering.

"Well, you see," Dan said, "it's the fourth meltdown so far. Today, at least. One could say that he's a tad nervous."

"You think so," Pj chuckled. "It sounds as though he's desperate, to have turned to Chris for help."

"That's true," Dan agreed, grinning.

"Did you not try to calm Phil down at all?"

"Yes," Dan nodded, "but apparently I wasn't 'taking it seriously'."

"I see." Pj paused a moment for thought. "The sarcasm?" he guessed.

"The sarcasm."

The two let their eyes wander around the venue for some time before Pj spoke up again. "What about you?" At Dan's confused look, he elaborated, "Are you nervous?"

"What makes you ask that," Dan replied, raising a brow.

"You're tapping."

Dan glanced down in surprise and, sure enough, his fingers were tapping rhythmic patterns along the outer side of each thigh. "Anticipation, I suppose," he dismissed.

Pj's head tilted a fraction. "You still like him, don't you," he said quietly.

Dan didn't respond – at least, not at first. He spent a considerable few seconds finding the floor to be suddenly very interesting. He then scratched the back of his neck, and took great care in adjusting the lapels of his suit. "When we were looking for suits," he started, not caring that his tangent was far from subtle. His gaze wasn't quite focused amidst his reminiscence, "Phil said he didn't want to have to compete his suit with anyone else's. Apparently the groom is meant to look the best; especially in comparison to the best man. He made sure to make that very clear to me."

"Hence your dazzling silver disco ball of a suit," Pj nodded curtly.

Dan chuckled. "Exactly. I told Phil that he had no chance against the likes of me. He only relented once I pointed out that my suit matched his bow tie, which is-"

"-Is silver, yeah, I saw," Pj clarified. He made another attempt, "Dan… you still like him, don't you?" Even though his voice lilted in a questioning tone, Pj inwardly knew that they both knew the answer. Pj just needed to hear it from Dan: it had been so long since they'd last discussed this.

Dan bowed his head. "I didn't know they were going to start dating," he mumbled, his voice small.

"I remember you telling me," Pj acknowledged kindly, now that they were getting somewhere. It didn't answer his query directly, but Pj knew from experience that staying patient through Dan's ramblings eventually led to somewhere fruitful.

"And even then, there was always this voice in the back of my mind assuring me that they weren't going to get anywhere, not really. But… it did. Here we are," Dan sighed, his voice breaking slightly. He swallowed thickly. "There were so many opportunities when I could have told him. When I could have said, I have the biggest, most ridiculous crush on you, and have done ever since I came across your videos… there was nothing stopping me. I wasn't embarrassed by it. It took me a while to realise and come to terms with how I felt, as you know, but embarrassment wasn't holding me back. It was fear of rejection. Seems silly now, really," he smiled, his eyes misting over. "All that time, being worried about him leaving because of me, only for it to happen anyway… because of her." He exhaled deeply. "That's inevitability for you."

"Do you think you'll ever tell him," Pj asked, genuinely curious.

"Tell him? No, I can't do that. Imagine how he'd feel. I can't hurt him like that: not just as he's settling down."

"But it's hurting you."

"I know," Dan nodded wearily. "But if brushing my feelings aside is what's for the best, then I've got to make that sacrifice. His unknowing is keeping him blissfully happy: I love him far too much to damage that. His happiness means everything to me."

"Dan… I really do admire you for agreeing to be best man," Pj commented. "I still can't quite believe that."

"It's the most important day of Phil's life," Dan shrugged. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Even if it kills me.

The pair spun around as one at the outcry of Chris' voice echoing through the church. "Ladies and gents, look who decided to join us: the truly amazing Phil Lester! The pun is, of course, completely intentional."

Phil looked incredibly pale as he sidled beside Chris. "I feel nauseous."

"Hey," Chris reprimanded brightly, "What did I say about being upbeat?"

"… I feel nauseous," Phil repeated, this time with an attempt at a smile and a lighter tone to his voice: all this did was make his statement come across as a question.

"That's more like it," Chris beamed, clapping Phil on the back.

Phil registered Pj, and immediately sought an escape route via an available, less optimistically-crazed friend: his relief amplified upon seeing Dan there as well.

"So, the groom finally decided to turn up," Pj started with a lopsided grin, throwing an arm around Phil. "I'm to assume your time with Chris was thoroughly uplifting?"

"That's not how I'd put it," Phil mumbled.

Chris leaned over, and in a stage-whisper said to Pj and Dan, "Don't pay any attention to anything he says: he's a bit delirious right now."

As he said this, Phil clasped his hands together and started chewing at his lip; Dan could sense that the elder was itching to feather his fingers through his hair, only to be conflicted with the desire to be looking at his best. In Dan's opinion, whether Phil's hair was just out from the heat of a straightener, or in its burst of eccentric bed-hair, it always somehow looked enviable.

"Should I be doing this?" Phil said, half to himself. He looked across to the other three standing around him. Louder, he asked them, "Have I made the right decision?"

"Absolutely," Chris said encouragingly.

Pj nodded in agreement. "Definitely."

Phil looked expectantly towards Dan, who stared back. Dan could feel Pj's eyes latch onto him. "Yes," Dan said resolutely, "of course you have, Phil."

Phil deflated in relief, the tension in his shoulders slacking. "Okay. Yeah. Of course I have." Some colour rose back into his cheeks. "I proposed; I'm in love; I'm – I'm getting married." He paused. A dawning smile crinkled the corner of his mouth. "I'm getting married," he repeated in growing excitement, his eyes lighting up in complete adoration at the prospect.

"Phil, where on earth have you been these past several weeks," Chris chuckled, just as Pj exclaimed, "Hey: Phil's back!"

Dan kept his gaze on Phil, watching the all-too familiar warmth seep back into his features, as if he hadn't undergone major anxieties throughout the day. Dan's eyes were smarting, but he assured himself (as he blinked them away) that they were happy tears. He was happy.

He was happy for Phil.

Pj and Chris hugged Phil in turn and wished him luck, before bounding off to find their seats somewhere close by. Dan watched them go, smiling as they bumped shoulders and continued conversation, laughing about something as they took their places. Pj sent a glance back towards Dan, ever being the worrier. Dan threw a grin in wordless reply. He was fine. Of course he was fine.

"Dan?"

He didn't quite know how to describe the look Phil was giving him. The excitement was still there, but there was something else… not sadness, exactly, but… Dan couldn't find the word for it, but knew it visualised how he was feeling too. The era of Dan and Phil, of them; it was drawing to a close, but in a good way that shot guilt through him whenever his heartstrings would twinge in the small hope that this day would never come. He didn't want for the two of them to part ways, and he knew that Phil didn't either, but love was an all-powerful entity that couldn't be swayed or tempted by sheer perseverance of praying and hoping so as to please the wants of the mind. They both knew the influence of such a feeling too well. Love was what had brought them this far, after all.

"Dan, I…" Phil couldn't find the words. Neither could Dan. The two found themselves wordlessly gravitating towards each other, and Dan took the opportunity to brush his side against Phil's, a comforting gesture that brought some normality back between them.

"We had a good run, didn't we?" Dan smiled. His words were soft, his throat tight with emotion, and he didn't dare raise his voice. This exchange was private: just him and Phil.

"That's an understatement," Phil giggled, his voice just as soft.

Dan leaned his head against Phil's shoulder, endearment lacing his laughter. "You know, I'm proud of us," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice running through Phil. Dan pulled his head back slightly to assert his gaze directly at the elder. "I'm proud of you." He leaned over and gingerly pressed a chaste kiss to Phil's cheek. Their friendship had always been wonderfully blurred in places, so Phil responded with a warm smile, and leant his forehead against Dan's.

"I'm proud of you too," Phil replied, "and I'm certainly proud of us. Look at how far we've come, eh?"

"How far we've come," Dan echoed. He straightened, "And it's all because I stalked your YouTube account all those years ago."

Phil burst into laughter then, and Dan revelled in the twinkle of Phil's bright eyes before Phil squeezed them shut, bit his tongue between his teeth, and clutched his sides in soundless mirth.

"Finally… he admits it," Phil wheezed, still unable to control his helpless giggles. He dropped a hand on Dan's shoulder to steady himself.

"For goodness sake – oh!" Phil interrupted Dan's amused chiding by yanking him into a tight hug that almost knocked them both off their feet.

"You are one of the best things to ever happen to me in my life," Phil said sincerely against Dan's shoulder: Dan doubted Phil's words were even audible to anyone but them he was speaking so quietly. "You're the best, best-man I could possibly ask for. And with everything that's been going on, I want you to remember that I love you so much, and there's no way I'm letting you out of my life. Ever."

"Phil, I…" Dan was uncharacteristically speechless. How could he hope to respond to that? Tears were already brimming at his eyes.

Phil pulled him back, their faces inches away from each other, and locked his gaze with Dan's. "Promise me we'll stick together, just like we always have. We'll meet up every day and hold sleepovers and parties, and skype each other whenever we're bored and collaborate in YouTube videos. Yeah? Dan, do you promise?"

Phil grasped both of Dan's hands in his, and Dan beamed through the tear tracks staining his cheeks. God, I am so in love with this man. He couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the bittersweet irony of what he was about to say, and of the context he dearly wished it to be in.

"I do."

A/N

HA! That's right! You thought you were getting a nice story, didn't you? Well, if you haven't learnt by now that fiction breaks your heart and destroys everything you love, then now you know.

I seem to have upturned a treasure trove of phanfiction from my laptop that I'd never thought I'd post but now that I've unearthed them I kinda want them to be read rather than hoarded away, you know? Even if they're not great, at least I'm putting stuff out there (although I genuinely love this story it was awesome to write when it wrote it a couple of years ago oh my gOD I wrote this a couple of years ago!?).

I know I literally just posted another story but it's five in the morning and I'm already here so I thought I might as well post this one too. Either one you read will probably make you feel the same feels.

Dan and Phil's friendship is truly a blessing. By the way, I don't write these things to infer that they ARE together or any of that nonsense; I write these things because I love their personalities to the point where I can write them as fully-fledged living and breathing characters.

Until next time, Time-Space-And-Stories is out!