It has been eight years, and yet, somehow, Dan has managed to stop himself from telling his best friend about his strange secret. It isn't unusual, to want to tell your best friend what's bugging you, but for some reason Dan just can't spit it out. He's tried, really, but in the end it's just too embarrassing. Besides, he doesn't fully understand it himself, so what's the point?
Dan sighed to himself, sat in the sofa crease with his laptop open on the tumblr home screen, but he wasn't really looking at it. Instead, he was thinking about that strange place he sometimes went inside his head when he got too stressed or when he and Phil argued. He didn't really understand it - all he really knew is that when it happens, he locks himself in his room to snuggle up in blankets on his bed, but not before slipping on his Winnie the Pooh onesie and dragging the Pooh stuffed animal given to him by a fan while on tour. Most times, he fell asleep like that, waking up hours later to find his thumb tucked into his mouthlike a goddamn toddler and feeling slightly hungover, despite not drinking. Imagine if Phil found him like that, oh god, he'd probably think Dan needed to be admitted to the mental ward. Dan shivered at the thought.
"You cold, Dan?" Phil frowned, throwing a glance up from his computer screen, which was also on tumblr, judging by the reflection in his glasses. "You can have this blanket, I'm not using it," Phil supplied, gesturing back to the pale blue blanket that hung lazily off the back of the chair he sat in. "No, I'm fine," Dan murmured, scrolling down on his feed for emphasis. He really just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Phil deepened his frown, but went back to browsing.
Maybe he'll come to me later about it, Phil thought. Normally, yes, that would likely be the case. But Phil wasn't stupid. He noticed when Dan would get like this, and it was different from his otherwise normal stresses he would spill to him in the late hours of the night. No, when Dan's eyes glazed over with a far away look in his eye, and he withdrew from any sort of interaction, not even bothering act normal? Phil knew that it was that something that Dan never talked to Phil about, not in the eight years they have shared the same space. Phil wanted to pull it out of him, wanted to make it better, but he feared that it may make whatever it is worse, after the time he asked Dan if he had taken some sort of drug, and Dan proceeded to lock himself in his room until the next day. No, Phil supposed, it will have to be on his own terms. Phil watched from the top of his glasses as Dan got up from the sofa and shuffled into his room, closing the door with a soft click noise as he locked it. Phil really wanted to get to the bottom of this.
Dan really wanted to get to the bottom of this. It's tiring, going around in circles but never closing in on the issue. He sat on his bed, legs crossed with his laptop rested neatly on top of them. He opened a new tab, but stared blankly at the screen. What was he supposed to put in when he couldn't articulate exactly what it was? He knew that whenever he got into that head space, he liked to feel warm, safe, and well, small. That sounds absurd, Dan thought to himself, A twenty six year old man who has to duck to enter the tube, likes to feel small. Absolutely absurd, Dan thought as he typed into the search bar. 'I like to feel small," hitting the enter key, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth. Dan frowned as he scrolled, the most related websites being about women and sexual desires mixed with astronomy fact sites. Something synonymous of small, Dan pondered, left hand tapping lightly on his laptop. Little? Dan's brain supplied, which made some sort of weird sense. Winnie the Pooh is, after all, a kids show, and sucking on his thumb is something little children do. Dan typed, 'I like to feel little,' into the search bar, metaphorically crossing his fingers. After fifteen minutes of scrolling and skimming through what google supplied, Dan sighed, slumping forward. Am I really the only person who has ever felt like this, Dan asked himself dejectedly, switching back to the tumblr tab.
It was honestly a long shot, and yet a little embarrassing Dan didn't think of it any sooner, but an entire twenty minutes had passed before Dan shot up from his slumped position, his back straight with tension. Of course, Dan groaned to himself, navigating to the search bar in the tumblr webpage. He relates to the people of tumblr more than anyone else, aside from Phil, so why not search there, he reasoned. 'feeling little,' Dan typed quickly into the search bar, slamming the enter key, as if not looking at the sentence would change something. As the page loaded, Dan's eyes widened, as if making his eyes bigger would help him take everything in. 'Little space, baby girl, baby boy, paci,' and oh god, 'daddy.' Dan was not sure of what to make of this; a part of him wanted to scream pedophilia but as he scrolled, he decided he liked this, what, kink? Lifestyle? Headspace, Dan decided. This doesn't seem to be pedophilia, Dan thought, as he scrolled through the search results. Which, to be quite honest, relieved the hell out of Dan. He is not some sort of pedophile, thank you very much.
Dan was so absorbed, in fact, he almost missed the knock at his door, and definitely did not realize that two hours had passed. "Dan," said Phil, his voice carrying a worried tone, "I've made dinner!" There was a pause, "Okay, well, I ordered dinner!" Dan blinked, setting the laptop off to the side, getting up to open the door. As soon as he turned the lock of the door, it swung open, and Dan was presented with a slightly worried Phil, who wore a small, closed mouth smile on his face. "It's on the living room table," Phil continued, jerking his thumb behind him. Dan nodded, turning to close his door behind him, giving Phil the opportunity to sneak a glance into his room. Phil squinted, as even with his glasses he had some trouble with distances, to see Dan's laptop screen. Tumblr, he noted, and is that a..dummy? Phil blinked, more than a little confused. Dan shut the door, shuffling lazily past Phil into the living room. It's probably nothing, Phil vacillated, making his way to the living room as well.