The golden liquid tilted into his mouth, and Dan immediately scrunched up his face. It was so bitter. His dad drank this all the time, somehow. Shaking the disgust out of his mind, the brunette took another swig of whiskey. This one made his dark eyes tear up, the earth-color of his irises turning more to mud with the addition of the burn.
He shouldn't have been drinking, honestly. It wasn't something that Dan did much. He was always certain that his parents would burst in at the wrong moment and catch him in the act of sipping their alcohol. He was only fifteen, and couldn't legally drink for another three years. Of course, most of the people he hung around had tried drinking at least once in their lives and it hadn't killed them, so what could be so bad about it?
Dan choked on the next sip, coughing the taste into the back of his nose. How did anyone bear to drink this stuff? Surely no one enjoyed it, they all replaced it with apple juice and acted like it was whiskey. This could be the only possible outcome.
Either way, the fifteen year old had somehow managed to get half of the small bottle down before deciding that he had drunk plenty. His head was swimming but there was no other change. Wasn't he supposed to be wasted by now?
Dan rubbed at his eyes, ridding them of the excess liquid. He stood up from the carpeted floor of his room where he had been sitting and moved to hide the bottle in the suitcase that was tucked away in his closet. On the way back to his bed, he stopped to glance at himself in the mirror.
"Holy shit," he mused aloud, shocked at the state of himself. "Mental note, look in mirror more often."
His normally honey-like complexion seemed to be more the shade of the paper his overdue History report was printed on. His eyes were swollen and watery, exhaustion casting dark half-moons under them.
Had it been forty hours now? Forty-two? Dan legitimately could not recall when he last slept. Interestingly enough, the reason he had begun drinking in the first place was to try to get some sleep. Drinking excessively was supposed to knock you out - he figured a booze-induced sleep had to be better than none.
Dan Howell moved across the carpet, slipping slightly with his mismatched socks gliding. He flicked the light switch off and miraculously made his way back to his bed in the pitch-black room. Climbing under the duvet was more of a challenge, as it had been in a ball on top of his mattress for as long as he had been awake.
He glanced at the clock one last time. Two in the morning. He had to be ready for school in five hours, and Dan hoped to the God he didn't believe in that he would be able to fill those five hours with sleep.
After a fair share of tossing and turning - in fact, it was a few hour's worth of tossing and turning - the young boy fell into unconsciousness.
After sleeping for two hours, he awoke and decided that if there were a sandman, or anyone in charge of sleep, they could just fuck right off.
"You look horrible," a deep voice announced, interrupting Dan's inner monologue of "fuck," "goddamn," and the occasional "shit on my leg."
"Fuck off, Phil," Dan said, closing his locker so that he could properly see his best friend of five years standing there, practically towering over the younger - by a whopping three inches.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Phil snarked back, leaning against the now shut locker door. "Seriously, Dan, did you sleep at all last night?"
"Yeah, I did, actually." Dan nudged Phil with his elbow and motioned for him to follow.
They both magically got stuck with an activity slot in the morning, which basically meant that they could do whatever they wanted to do for the first hour and a half of the day. Something else that could be described as magical was the way that Phil was able to hack into the program that the school used to formulate schedules, which was a completely unrelated coincidence, of course.
They normally went to the library, secluding themselves in one of the many study rooms and messing around. Today was no different.
Dan picked room number one instead of their regular two, simply because he was feeling awfully spiteful about that number today. Phil trailed closely behind.
"You know, sleep deprivation can kill you," Phil pointed out, closing the door behind himself as Dan went to sit in one of the available chairs.
"That's not true," the brunette disputed, blue eyes meeting his own.
"Of course it is. I'm older and wiser, so obviously I would know," Phil said matter-of-factly, running a hand through his unnaturally black hair.
"Older by a year, more idiotic by an eternity," Dan quipped back.
Phil surrendered and took the seat next to his best friend, looking him over subtly. "You're paler than I am, and that's saying something."
He shrugged nonchalantly in response. He was used to the inquisition by now. Phil had always followed the same routine when it came to the brunette : evaluate the situation, ask dumb questions, offer help, give up.
"How much did you sleep this weekend?"
Like clockwork.
The younger glared at him through a faux-annoyed look. "I don't know. Like, two hours? Three?"
And there was Phil's signature "I'm worried about you but I'm also mad at you because you're an idiot" look. He seemed to reserve it for Dan and Dan alone.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ding.
"Really, Phil, I can function on less. I'm fine. I'll get plenty of sleep tonight."
He didn't seem convinced, biting on his lower lip as a form of assurance that he should drop the subject before Dan actually got annoyed with him for real.
The younger continued, "What about you? How was your weekend?"
"Jess made me take her to the zoo," Phil groaned. "I spent an hour looking at a turtle while she pressed her face against the glass."
"I love your family," Dan said, an amused grin playing on his face.
"You'd love them a lot less if a six-year-old was constantly asking you to tote her around."
Dan nodded. "That's probably true. She's still adorable, though."
Phil smiled and agreed easily.
They fell into a comfortable silence, with Dan scribbling on scraps of paper and Phil reading the newest book in that nerdy series he loved, one with sex and dragons, from what Dan could remember about it.
Dan started out drawing pictures, little doodles of things in the room. He was never very good at art but that didn't stop him from going off into his own little world with it. Soon, though, the scribbles turned into words and the words turned into sentences and the sentences turned into something else entirely.
if the sky opened up, i would not be scared.
if the ground collapsed beneath me, i would not flinch.
the earth could implode for all i care.
give me the universe and the vastness of the stars.
burn me up, turn me back to raw stardust, and send me home.
He stared at what he had just written. Was that...poetry? Since when did he do that? Dan ran a hand through his chestnut hair, causing it to stick up in odd places. Phil glanced over at him, keeping a finger lined up with the paragraph he was currently on.
"What?" Phil asked curiously.
"I don't know," Dan said, shrugging. He grabbed the paper before the other boy could see it and shoved it into his pocket. He shook his head. "Nothing."
Blue eyes narrowed skeptically, but his mouth didn't open again. Soon after, he was back into his novel.
Dan would really like to know if it was possible for the alcohol to still be in his system.
Getting through classes was shit, complete and utter shit. By the time the final bell rang at 2:30, Dan could hardly make his feet move. He typically met Phil at the older boy's locker after school to get food before Dan was eventually driven home by the aforementioned boy, but he felt like he was about to fall over. He knew that his best friend would go for the "I told you so" act, so he decided to take the bus home in order to avoid the conversation.
Once he was seated and moving on his way home, he pulled out his phone to text Phil.
Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I took the bus. -DH
Why? What's up? -PL
I just needed to get out of there, honestly. Nothing against you. -DH
You okay? -PL
Fantastic. -DH
Drive safe. -DH
Dan had been through the door for about two minutes by the time he made it upstairs to his room, toed off his shoes, and collapsed into the bed. His head felt like it had been split in two. His eyes burnt to keep open. He needed to sleep, plain and simple.
After about thirty minutes of lying there, unable to sleep, Dan jumped up in frustration, pulling at his hair.
"Fucking Christ!" he yelled to no one in particular.
Dan stomped to the medicine cabinet, looking for something to help him sleep, anything. The alcohol had done nothing for him and also tasted like shit, so he decided not to go down that road again.
Melatonin, zolpidem,doxepine...he had no idea what to. He pulled out his phone and quickly tried to google each one. But, of course, since the universe seemed to have it out for Dan Howell lately, the connection got slower and slower until it just stopped.
"God damn it!" he cried, sinking to the floor in simple anger and frustration.
His next instinct was to call Phil, so he didn't even think before pressing on the other boy's contact. While it was ringing, Dan swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Dan, hey," his voice broke through the speaker.
"I need you to look something up for me."
"O...kay? Why?"
"My internet is being a dick and I need to know and everything is going wrong and - "
"Alright, Dan, take a breath. I'll look it up for you. Just tell me what you need."
"Melatonin, zolpidem,doxepine," he rattled off.
"Um," Phil paused. "What?"
"Look up which one I should take and how many and with what."
Phil did as Dan asked, reading each of them off to the other boy. After he was done, Dan decided on the melatonin.
"Thank you," he sighed into the phone.
"Wait, Dan, if you're having that much trouble sleeping...I think you should see a doctor," the elder said softly, concern underlining his tone. He already knew what the answer would be, but he figured it was worth a shot.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Phil."
Click.
in case of emergency, break bone, use emptiness as a shield.
"Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dan asked himself aloud. It was roughly six in the morning, and the light was streaming weakly through his windows, an indication that summer was on its deathbed. The poem was something he had to have written before he passed out for fifteen hours, as he found it clutched in his hand, pen not far away.
He'd never been a poet, why start now?
The transition of the seasons seemed effortless, Summer leaving peacefully and Autumn politely working itself around Summer's schedule. Or something like that, Dan thought as he stared at the changing leaves on blurry trees. Phil had taken him to the cinema to see Gravity, since Dan loved space so much and also on account of the fact that he seemed to have been in a slump recently (Phil assumed it was an existential crisis, as Dan went through about one major one per year). The black-haired boy just wanted to give him something to do.
Dan was leaning his head on the cool glass, watching the scenery pass by in orange and red blobs. "Phil?"
"Yeah, Dan?"
"What would you do if I got lost in space?"
"Well, I guess I'd just have to build my own rocket so I could fly up and bring you back to Earth with me, now wouldn't I?"
Dan accepted this answer with a small smile.
It was a Tuesday when Dan truly discovered the woods.
They were on the very edge of town, a few blocks separated from his neighborhood. Beautiful trees shed their green color to turn into a more welcoming, a more calm shade of yellow.
Dan was just walking alone, trying to get some fresh air, when his eyes caught sight of an entrance to the forest-y area. He had always been frightened of the sounds the woods made at night (thus causing him to stay a safe distance away) but something about it here, now, made it seem warm and inviting. So he ventured inside.
The branches cast a protection from the wind and sunlight, keeping Dan comfortable in just a hoodie and jeans. He just kept walking, and walking, and walking.
Lover's names were carved into the curving trunks, with a few scratched out here and there. He found a key on a chain hanging from a branch of another. Further forward, a few scattered guitar picks.
Then, surprisingly enough, there was an open area. Dan peeked through and was shocked by something he never knew was there.
A river. Not just any river, but a wide one, thrashing about violently. He was sure that the pure black-hole like water could suck him in if he got too close. Somehow, the sound of the rushing water was both scaring Dan and calming him down.
He examined the grass around the bank and decided that it was safe for him to sit down. Dan took a seat about a foot or two away from the drop in land, far enough from the water to feel safe.
The air felt different there, more peaceful. It was almost like time slowed down and it gave Dan the feeling that he could sit there and just think about things. He stared at the water for a long time, simply considering the universe.
When the sunset began to reflect on the shadows of the woods, Dan decided it was time to go home. He stood up, brushed off his hands, and walked out of the trees the way he came into the clearing.
"When's the last time you slept on your own? Without pills?" Phil asked Dan one night, as they were both sitting on the side of his bed and preparing for sleep.
Dan downed a small glass of water with the white pill and shrugged. "As long as I'm sleeping, does it really matter?"
The elder frowned at his best friend but shook his head minutely before climbing under Dan's black and grey duvet. Soon after, the aforementioned boy joined him underneath.
The bed was just big enough for the both of them to lie on their backs next to each other, with forearms pressed together. They both eventually ended up sleeping facing away from the other, so the space worked out.
The wind howled outside as Dan turned off the lamp on his nightstand.
"Phil," he whispered into the dark room.
Phil hummed in response.
"Thanks for giving a shit, though."
"It's my job," he answered simply.
Dan Howell had fallen into a system for Autumn. He went out with Phil after school for food, went home, and then walked to the woods and stayed there until nightfall.
Most of the time, he brought only his phone. Eventually, something sparked in him and he carried a composition notebook and pen along, unsure of why he would need it.
if i am nothing, then you are everything.
if i am darkness, you are the sun.
if i am alone, alone, alone,
then the sapphire in your eyes looks upon me in pity.
If Autumn came in with a whisper, it went out with a bang.
Dan was walking to his usual clearing when he realized it was brighter than it had been for the weeks before. Looking up, the leaves were missing from the now empty branches. Instead, they were crunching underneath Dan's feet.
The water was colder, every so often, when it caught rocks and launched drops at Dan. Despite the changing weather, the younger boy began writing.
the universe is vast and unknown, but we are stardust. they died so that we may live.
if anyone is pure galaxy - it's you.
He put the pen down and set his journal on the ground next to him before he lay down, staring up at the clouds. He was pretty sure that he had never felt so small in his entire life.
Buzz.
Dan reached for the phone in his pocket, nothing if not slightly annoyed about the distraction.
Hey, I came round but your mum says you're not home. Where'd you disappear to? -PL
The place I always come to. -DH
Which is where? Is there a reason you're being cryptic? I needed some advice. -PL
You know the woods that I used to be scared of? -DH
Yeah, is that where you are? -PL
When you walk in, keep going straight until you hear water. That's where I am. -DH
He put his phone on top of the journal, folded his arms under his head, and closed his eyes.
Not ten minutes later, Phil pushed past the trees and into the clearing. He had the most perplexed look on his face, and when Dan sat up to greet him, he had to hold back a grin.
"Since when do you come out here?" Phil asked, hesitantly sitting next to Dan.
He shrugged. "I don't know. A couple of months."
Phil absentmindedly ran his hands through the thick grass. "It's nice. Bit chilly, though, by the water."
"You get used to it," Dan responded easily. "You said you needed advice?"
"Yeah," the elder hesitated, chewing on his lower lip yet again. "Halie said she liked me. And that she wanted to go out."
Dan pasted a pleasant look on his face, although it felt like his blood just ran cold. Why was that?
"Phil, that's awesome, I'm happ-"
"Shut up and let me finish," he said with a grin, giving Dan a look. "I told her that I didn't feel the same."
Brown eyes flicked up to look at Phil's in confusion.
"You don't?"
He's your best friend, you're supposed to want him to have a girlfriend. You're supposed to help him, Dan soliloquized inside his head.
"No. I didn't think it would be fair for me to lead her on either way," he shrugged. "Was that right? Did I do the right thing or was I mean?"
Dan shook his head.
"No, that's good. It's not your fault if you don't like her."
Phil accepted this with a small nod. "Thanks," he said, before his eye caught the journal next to Dan. "Since when do you write?" He tilted his head, not accusingly. It seemed that Dan was acting less and less like himself lately.
He placed a hand over it protectively, sliding it behind himself. "I don't know, Phil, since now?"
A mischievous grin played on the elder's face before he dove at Dan, tackling him onto his back. Phil laughed at the look of surprise on Dan's face, but soon he was being swatted at.
"Get off me," Dan said with a laugh in his voice. "I hate you!"
Phil kept his place on top of Dan, pinning down the slightly smaller boy with his weight. "No you don't," he sing-songed cheekily, grinning down at his friend.
Dan shot a playful glare at the boy on top of him and pushed him off as hard as he could without hurting him. Then, they both just lay there - after the laughing had subsided - staring at the sky.
Dan still felt small, but somehow, feeling the older boy's presence next to him made him consider that maybe he wasn't completely unimportant.
in a world of sadness and bright white screens
you are the only one who can help me when i dream.
One day when they were out, sitting at a table in the middle of the food court, Dan pulled out his journal. It was the biggest secret he had, especially from his best friend. Phil gave an amused look, picking at a chip before asking Dan, "What's up?"
Dan just placed a hand over it protectively, a playful glint in his chocolate eyes. "I write poems in this book."
"Okay," Phil nodded, leaning closer to the other like this was a huge secret. "Why are you showing me it?"
"It's full. I want you to have it," Dan shrugged, picking up his root beer and sipping at it nervously.
Phil stopped eating, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"
"I just do," he shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
"Dan-"
"I've got to get going, thanks for this," he interrupted, standing up and walking away.
"Dan, you don't even drive!" Phil called after him, but he gave it up when Dan was out of his sight.
Something was definitely up with the boy.
The river. Dan had to get to the river.
He couldn't breathe, or think straight, or function. He had to leave.
His parents were fighting again.
Crashes and screams filled the household.
This happened about once a week, but they had gone nearly a month without fighting. It had filled Dan with hope that they were moving past their issues.
Nope.
Dan bolted out of the house, but not before grabbing for a bottle of wine and what was left from his first experience with whiskey.
He needed to forget and he needed to block everything out.
To add to it, he had a constant nagging in the back of his head. He hadn't heard from Phil all day, even though he had given him his journal. The only explanation was that he didn't like Dan anymore. Dan had opened up with Phil too much, showing his true self. It must have scared the older boy away.
Well, that, and the confession he had spent three hours writing in the back.
Dan shook the thoughts from his head and eventually made it to the entrance. The brisk night air was cold enough to make him wish that he had brought a coat, but all he was wearing was a thin sweatshirt over his tee.
He ran, tears soaking onto his cheeks and attracting the snow to them.
First snow of the year, and he was spending it having a mental breakdown.
After what seemed like ages, he made it to his spot, collapsing and curling into a ball on the freezing earth.
Phil, the truth is this. I'm braver than I was before, braver than I was all those years ago when we met. Braver than I was last summer when I wanted to kiss you but we pulled apart and laughed it off as late-night hysteria.
I still want to kiss you.
You're the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on, boy or girl or anything in between, and your personality just adds to it.
You see, Phil, I gave you this journal so that you would understand. I know I'm a little distant and I know I'm in my own little world about 99% of the time but I wanted to give you a glimpse into it.
I am in love with you. I think I always have been.
This poetry, it's all about you. Well. Most of it. I've never been able to write and I'm still shit at it, but you make me better.
You don't have to feel the same way. I know you probably don't. Who would?
But Philip Michael Lester, just...if there's anything. Anything there in the slightest...please just give me a chance.
Phil read the letter with tears clouding his vision and a bottle rocket igniting his heart. This amazing, phenomenal boy that he called his best friend, was in love with him. Just as he was in love with Dan.
He read through again, thinking of all of the poems he had gone through prior to discovering the epilogue. Prior to knowing those poems were about him. "Dan Howell," he whispered to the air, a longing in his tone.
Automatically, he called the aforementioned boy. Granted, it was nearly three in the morning, as he had been doing homework all night and had just gotten around to reading. And there had been so, so many poems to go through. It must have taken him an hour.
When the ringing stopped, and Dan's voice came through the speakers, Phil's heart crashed to his knees.
Dan felt his phone ringing in his pocket, fishing it out of his jeans. He had already made it through the whiskey and a quarter of the wine, and his head was spinning. He was shivering, letting the snow fall on him.
He meant to press the green button and talk to his friend, but as soon as he saw Phil's name, the letter came rushing back to him. He was calling to reject him, and Dan knew it. He let out a short sob and collapsed back into the white grass, holding the phone up to his ear.
"Dan?" Phil asked, alarmed at the noise of his crying. "What's wrong? What's happened?" He sat straight up on his bed.
"You don' l-like me," he slurred, a choking in the back of his throat.
Phil shook his head, although he knew Dan couldn't see him anyway. "Dan, that's not true. I like you a lot, okay?"
"N-no, you're ca-callin' to tell me to leave you alone," Dan cried, working himself up over nothing. "I'm sorry, I wi-will if you want m-me to." His teeth were chattering.
"Dan, calm down," Phil said softly. He didn't know why Dan was so upset. He was normally so calm, so level-headed. "Take a breath. Tell me what happened."
The younger did as he was asked, sniffling before going silent.
"Dan," he prompted after a moment, pleading.
"I'm s-so cold," Dan said after a long minute.
The elder frowned. Cold? Where would Dan be that it was cold? It was the middle of Winter, why wasn't he home at three in the morning?
The river.
"Dan, are you at the river?" he asked, already standing up and putting on his winter coat.
"Y-yeah," he spoke, his teeth chattering once more.
And that slur in his voice, Phil had heard that from friends before. Hell, he'd heard it from himself before.
His chest clenched in fear. "Daniel Howell, tell me you aren't drunk."
"So what if I a-am?"
Phil had heard enough, sprinting to his car. He jumped in while still on the line with Dan and drove through the neighborhood wildly.
"How long have you been there?"
"A while," came the immediate response.
Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. Dan, the boy he was in love with, was alone in the woods at half past three in the morning, freezing and drunk.
Dan was going to be the death of him.
"I want you to keep talking to me, okay?"
"What d-do you wan' me to say?"
"Anything, tell me a story."
Phil made it to the entrance of the woods, not even bothering to park his car properly or grab a flashlight.
"I don't have any," Dan spoke, crying softly and curling in on himself more.
"Tell me why you're out here, then," Phil begged, running blindly into the darkness in front of him.
"I needed t-to get away," he said honestly. "I could...I couldn't b-be there any longer, Phil, I'm s-sorry."
"It's okay, you don't have to apologize to me." He knew exactly what Dan was referring to and frowned even more at the thought. His parents. They were so selfish, he mused angrily. They only worried about their own petty issues and not how their fighting affected anyone else. Like Dan.
Phil's hands were already going cold, and he had adrenaline running through his body. Dan was going to have hypothermia or frostbite or something if Phil didn't get him someplace warm soon enough, if Dan didn't already.
"I do, I always do b-because I'm a fuck-up, d-don't you get it?" he cried into the phone.
Phil's heart broke but he could hear the river, see the clearing. Just a few more steps.
The thin layer of snow crunched under his feet as he stepped into the open area.
Phil shoved his phone in his pocket, rushing as quickly as he could to Dan.
He fell on his knees in front of the crying boy, all curled up in the snow. He was shaking, almost violently, and two glass bottles were empty. Phil reached out to hold him, to pull his best friend onto his lap.
Everything was a blur for Dan, but he felt himself moving, being held. He glanced around wildly until his eyes caught blue, and he realized he was safe.
"Shh..." Phil whispered in Dan's ear as he cried and clung to him. "It's okay. I promise, it's okay. You've just had a long day, is all."
Dan nodded into Phil's chest, trying to calm down.
"We need to get you somewhere else. I'm going to take you to my house and get you warm, is that okay?" he asked in a soothing voice.
Dan nodded once again, and Phil didn't need to wait for anything else. He stood up, bringing Dan with him. Phil bent his legs, scooping the smaller boy up into his arms. If he had been any taller, this wouldn't have worked. Regardless, Dan hooked his arms around Phil's neck and rested his head into the other boy's chest as he was carried.
Once they were back to Phil's car, he set the now calmer boy down in the backseat, giving him room to spread out and lie down. Phil got into the driver's seat, cranking the heat up all the way. Glancing at the clock, he realized that it was a little past four A.M. and within the same moment, decided that he and Dan were going to skip school the next day.
"Are you okay back there?" Phil would ask every few minutes.
Dan would hum in response, and that was enough for him.
Phil considered getting Dan upright, trying to just help him walk into the house, but when he went to help him out of the car, he let out a groan and closed his eyes once more. "Phil, I think I'm gon'na be sick," he spoke softly.
So Phil carried him again. Simple enough.
Making the journey to Phil's room was easier, just going right down the hallway and entering the open space. In the light, Phil could see just how pale Dan looked, how fragile.
But the boy was no longer shivering, which he supposed was a good sign.
True to his word, not two seconds after stepping through the door frame, Dan reached for the trash bin and promptly threw up. Phil kneeled next to him on the floor, rubbing small circles into his back.
Within moments, the brunette moved away from the bin halfheartedly and lay down on the carpet, closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.
Sheets.
Sheets were the first thing Dan registered when he woke up.
Are there sheets in the woods? He didn't think so.
He glanced around, unsure of where he was until his eyes fell on Phil's familiar green and blue duvet, and Dan relaxed. The sun was streaming through the window and he had a splitting headache, but it was better than waking up in the cold.
When he turned his head, Dan could see Phil lying next to him. He was on the complete other side of the bed, and the younger boy considered just how fucking pretty he was.
Wait, fuck. The letter.
Dan nearly fell out of the bed in shock when he remembered. He had written a love letter. To his best friend. And now he was lying in said best friend's bed? What the fuck?
It's then that Phil decided to open his eyes, conveniently enough.
Dan started spluttering before anything could be said in the likes of greeting. "What happened? I'm sorry about the letter, we can act like it never happened if you want."
Phil shook his head. "Stop that, you're worrying too much."
They're whispering, and neither of the pair are too sure why, but it feels appropriate for the conversation, so they keep it up.
"What happened?"
"God, what part?" the black-haired boy asked, running a hand through his hair and yawning.
"All of it," Dan demanded, a bit more to his voice than he felt was necessary.
Phil nodded before beginning. "You gave me your poems and that letter, and then I called you to talk to you about it."
"Did we talk about it?" he asked, hoping that Phil would say that they had and that everything was sorted.
"No."
Shit.
The elder continued. "You were so upset when you picked up. And then I found out that you were drunk and in the woods, and I got so scared for you," Phil said sincerely. "So I came and I found you. When we got back here, you passed out."
Dan pieced the rest together in his mind, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and admiration on his features. "You took care of me?'
"Of course I did," Phil responded simply, moving the slightest bit closer to Dan and keeping his eyes locked on him
"Wow, that's-" Dan stutters. "That's amazing. Thank you."
Phil waved it off. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay...you are, aren't you?"
"A million times better," Dan said softly. "My head hurts like hell, though."
The blue eyes looked at him knowingly. Before he could ask, Phil leaned over and grabbed a bottle of pills for relieving headaches. He shook out two and handed them to Dan pridefully. He really had thought of everything.
After he took the pills, Dan settled back down into the pillow. "Are we going to discuss..."
Phil smiled at him, and suddenly Dan felt like he was privy to some kind of secret knowledge.
"I feel the same way about you, Dan. Like you said in the letter."
Dan swore he could hear ringing in his ears. No way. No fucking way did Phil Lester just say that he liked him.
Brown eyes widened almost comically before he just had to come out and say it. "No fucking way."
"Yes fucking way," the other echoed, a grin etched onto his lips.
"Phil, oh my god," Dan said before sitting up again, pulling the boy with him.
They gazed at each other, sunlight illuminating both of their faces.
"Can I - can we...?" Phil asked softly and hesitantly.
Dan smiled before he leant forward and connected his lips to Phil's.
i used to fear the endless sky and the way we seemed so small,
the way that i could disappear, and not affect the world at all.
but then i met you, and it changed my view.
maybe i didn't need the world to remember me.
maybe i didn't need anyone to.
perhaps all i needed was my own bit of stardust, and i've found it for myself, i trust.
it was simply masquerading in a beautiful disguise.
i've found it in your eyes.