Disclaimer: I do not own Dan and Phil they are their own people and I am also not stating they are together. This is pure fiction.
Warnings: mentions of past self harm, bullying and use of homophobic slurs in passing.
"Because I Want You"
No matter what state of mind, no matter the highs, or lows of my emotions. I fall into you, it is all I seem to do now. I fall in to you because I no longer feel complete on my own. I need you to be whole. Melding in to a tangle of limbs, morphing in to one being. I need this because without it I feel like nothing, years of this have left me in a state where I have to live off you. Like some sort of vile parasite. Because being by myself is not working anymore. Before this, before us. I was barely alive, my life stolen by other kids, by the names they threw at me. Faggot, homo, etc . By the way I felt about myself, by the fact I hated that brown haired kid that stared back at me. But you stopped that. Even before we spoke even when it was just me falling for you behind a glass screen. You made me better three to four minutes at a time. When we spoke you blocked out those voices. You were there when no one else was, you were the light in the darkness and even now that hasn't changed. You are still the brighter side of me.
When this started it was easy, it was a few little kisses during Mario Kart, or a few lingering touches while cooking diner. Then it progressed, we became more. Then it became fucking on the sofa as Game of thrones was on. But we were never actually an us were we? We weren't in a relationship. We were just two friends who happened to fuck and that was fine for a while. It suited us both, we were too busy for functioning relationships. But then I messed it up by wanting you a little too much. By falling for you. But that wasn't news to me, I'd loved you since I'd first seen that mop of messy black hair appear on my screen. I though these little things would fix my little addiction to you, would take away these feelings. It didn't, in fact it only made them feed and multiply.
Twisting and turning, it is fun while it lasts, but in the aftermath I feel as if my soul has left my body and now sits beside you. Leaving you is tearing me apart and you can't even see it. You're blind in that sense, always have been. You see it as fun, as something free and caring, but never loving. You are blind to the way more of me seems to come apart every time I leave. How without you the world around me has been bleed of colour and I am stuck in this eternal blur of grey, black and white. Of course there are days where I don't feel like this and I can shoot of a video about how I mumble or some challenge like the one with Tyler and on those days I don't feel it. But then it comes back and I'm left aching just as much. The days I'm free it's like I'm on morphine and the pain doesn't exist in any sense. But as soon as I see you again its like coming down and seeming your missing limb, or the huge chunk that is taken from our skin and the pain flairs up again and the world is once more black and white, any trace of technicolour is gone. Your light and palette is gone and I'm left on the black and white darkness alone.
When I hit the bottle, It's worse. When I'm intoxicated on more than just the feel of your skin on my own, when I'm feeling even more empty inside than normal. I drink because I know that I don't mean to you what I want to and that in the end you'll find someone else and once again I'll be alone. And once that fear has crept in like some long forgotten spider encroaching on my space unravelling me slowly it's always hard to find and eliminate. It hides in the darkness and hides in the places my hands can't reach, so I reach for what I can a grasp another beer between my already sweating palms. The spider analogy forgotten as my brain swims in chemicals that make me see colour once more, even if for a few hours. I allow the bottle to take we away in this blur of colour where I forget the grey and I forget that one day you'll move on. I drink because I'm ashamed of what we have become. I drink because I'm in love with you. But mostly I drink now coz I'm afraid to be alone. I'm afraid of the fact that I'd be nothing without you.
Now we argue, we never did that before. Well, never over important things. Mainly over the fact you'd mouthed my cereal, or left every single cupboard door open when making toast. But now we fight over everything and it's tearing us apart at the seam's. Tear us in two, is all it seems to do. We are coming apart like some cheap fair ground toy. Two pieces that are meant to be together slowly slipping further and further away from the other. Any small threads left between us being pulled and strained even more. We fight over everything now. Over the little and the huge, over whether or not we even want to live together anymore. Over the fact you can't deal with an existential crisis ever time I change a light bulb, or make tea. We argue over the fact we no longer understand the other the way we once did. We argue about everything and it's tearing us apart one small seam at a time.
As the anger fades, as the anger between us simmers down I remember why I began to feel this way for you in the first place. You make me feel at home. Be that by us mucking about round China town on another bubble tea quest you've sent us or, on watching tv not talking and simply Tumblr-ing. Because when we are just us it's easy really. We are reminded of the ways we do understand the other and reminded of the good days and we still have good days, yeah, that's true. Not every day ends in a shouting match that makes me want to throw up and hurt myself out of quilt and self loathing and makes you cry because you can't stand the screaming we do. Because when it's great it's perfect and I remember why I fell for you. Because you make me feel at home. A house isn't a home, it's never been. A house is really just a shell made out of bricks and mortar, it keeps us dry and safe. But it's nothing more than a shelter. Even this house is no longer a home, because it doesn't have to be. You are. You're the home I've never had.
Don't give up on the dream, don't give up on the wanting, and everything that's true. That's what Louise has told me after hours of me sitting in her lap as I confess every detail of our messed up 'thing'. I can't even call it a relationship, because semantically that's wrong and in the end it's part of the problem. Because that is the very thing I want and it's the very thing we don't have. It's gotten worse, this emptiness I feel without you and I'm worrying about it. I've not felt this way since before we meet when my world was full of bullies, sharp edged words and hand prints left as blue and black imprints.
You were once my medicine and now you are my infection.
It's pathetic really, the way I am around you. I know the others are beginning to see it because I can't even summon the effort to hide it anymore, my eyes linger too long on you. I get too defensive of our relationship. We get more and more comments about 'phan'not just from fans anymore, but from our friends. Because even they can see that something is going on. They can see just how dependent we are on each other, because this thing it isn't just one sided. I need you to be the light in my life, because sometimes my world is so dark I can't even see the boundaries anymore and I can't even see anything anymore. But you take that away, you bring evanescent light to my darkness and make the encroaching dark fade away . But you need me too, you need me to feel loved. Even if that comes in the form of our hands on each other and skin against each other. You need me to make you feel, you want me because you want to feel and I simply go along with it because I want you too. You need me because without this thing between us you find it hard to seek out real emotions, because you've been struggling since that year in university where you lost someone and that tore you apart. They day you lost any speck of childish-ness and since then you have tried to claim it back, and I'm simply another prop you use to do that. But in the end I allow it, because I'd rather have that tiny part of you, than none of you.
I'm drunk again, this is no longer a surprise to either of us, it's been happening more and more lately. I'll go out for hours. To a bar, a club, to even a pub on some nights and I'll try and seek someone else out. But in the end I fail and the blonde, brunette or whatever will go home with someone else and I'll simply come home. Because in the end they aren't you. Stumble into you, is all I ever do. I'll have someone else's teeth marks on me and someone else's hands would have roamed my skin. But in the end it is you I drunkenly stumble home to.
My memory's hazy and I'm afraid to be alone. I mumble that last phrase in you your ear and you simply pull me further in to your lap, because that is what you do. I begin to cry as the effects of far too many drinks finally claims me and I mumble bits and bobs to you about how I feel and how I fear you leaving me and that is when you kiss me and that is when I kiss you back, Because I want you too. Even if it comes in these small doses I want you and I always will.