Struggling to hold onto his sleep, where he'd been dreaming something that was out of his grasp now but left a warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly, Dan felt a headache worming its way through his consciousness. As the last dregs of sleep slunk away, it became a dull pounding, not only in his head, but also in his entire body, as though he'd ran a few miles before bed last night. In his back, in his stomach, in his arms, behind his eyes, even in his dry lips, and somewhere else that had no good reason to hurt-
His eyes fluttered open and immediately he slammed then shut against the piercing sunlight filtering in, though it was on the opposite side of the room than it ought to be, and he caught a glance of a blue and green duvet covering him. It took him a few confused moments to figure out he must be in Phil's room. This didn't alarm him at first; the two had sleepovers every once in a while so they could stay up well into the night talking and playing games, sure (especially if they'd watched one of Phil's horror movies and Dan was scared to go back to the darkness of his own room), but he had no memory of coordinating any sort of sleepover recently.
Dan shifted in the bed, earning himself another biting pain both from his head and other parts of his body again that spiked worry through his mind. He groaned at the discomfort sleepily, only just realizing that if they'd indeed had a sleepover then Phil was probably on the floor sleeping, and perhaps he should be quieter. He also came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was stark naked under these sheets as they rustled against his bare skin.
What had he done last night? Had he been horribly drunk? He tried to backtrack.
Ah, yes... they'd gone to a party. It had been Friday night, and he hadn't wanted to go, but Phil convinced him that they needed to be out and more sociable if they were to keep moving forward with their careers, and besides, they needed to be a good example for people who didn't get out much. "Come on, let yourself have fun for once! It won't be bad."
"Phil," Dan had whined, "But... can you just stay with me? And can we go home early?"
"I'll stay with you for a little bit, but you have to find someone to talk to! Come on, Dan, people always like you. You're not as awkward as you always say." He'd patted Dan lovingly on the shoulder then. "And I'm not letting us go home until you've made a friend. Alright?"
"Fine," Dan muttered gloomily, and they'd prepared themselves for the party.
The occasion was bigger than either of the boys had imagined. The simple "house party" that had been described int the invite was far outdone by a near mansion of a home, complete with a DJ, a bar, and people dressed to the nines everywhere they looked. Phil got them some drinks ("We're walking home, anyway," he told Dan), and tried unsuccessfully to get Dan to dance for a while; when it was apparent that Dan was too displeased by the amount of people here to do anything other than sulk, Phil gave up, leaving Dan to his own devices. "Maybe I'll send someone over here," Phil offered, and Dan scowled. "You could end up liking them! Promise me you'll be nice if I do."
Dan muttered something that wasn't a yes or a no, earning a stern look from Phil before he left to go socialize. Dan wandered around for a while, not saying a word to anyone, keeping his head down so no one would recognize him in the sea of bodies. Finally he sat down at the bar, contemplating what to do until Phil got back.
Dan eventually resigned himself to staying near the bartender and getting absolutely shitfaced. He'd make up someone that he'd have met, just to appease Phil; he was good at that, and there were too many people in here to tell if he was lying about it, anyway.
His memory started to get hazy after a few drinks, but he remembered a bit of dancing... not why, or who danced with him, though he must have met up with Phil at some point if he had got home alright. And Phil had... let him use his bed? That was nice... although completely unnecessary. The horrible thought crossed his mind that he might have puked on his own; the image made him shudder.
He sat up a little and blinked, trying to see, shielding his eyes against the blinding glare from the window. Directly in front of him on Phil's nightstand was an empty liquor bottle Dan hadn't seen before, and he wondered both if he'd been the one to drink it and if he'd stolen it from the party. He felt out for his phone in the sheets beside him so he could check the time- and all the sudden he came into contact with something warm and fleshy.
He jumped, then froze, not wanting to look over and see who was next to him.
Had he taken someone home last night? He hadn't taken someone home in ages. It would have been incredibly rude, especially in Phil's bed... how could he have thought that was okay? Once again, he considered that he may have puked in his own, and perhaps Phil had surrendered his bed... or, maybe Phil had gone home with someone else? That didn't seem likely; Phil just wasn't the type. Dan didn't remember any girls he himself had fancied at the party... then again, he didn't remember much of anything from last night, and he could have very drunkenly stolen Phil's bed without thinking anything of it at the time. Perhaps Phil was making use of Dan's bed. Dan would have to apologize as soon as he could.
Time to figure out who this mystery person was... because if it was someone he knew, he had a big problem on his hands, and of it was someone he didn't know, he... well, still had a problem. Especially if they were a fan. What if they expected a relationship and he didn't even really like them? He'd always heard of this sort of thing happening, but it had never happened to him before; he wasn't into parties, or one night stands, or any of that. But none of it mattered now. What was done was done, and he needed to know exactly what he'd done. Finally, Dan held his breath, craned his neck, and squinted.
The last thing he expected to see was a largish, muscular torso protruding from the sheets, ending in a skew of short, jet black hair that was entirely too familiar.