Dan opened his eyes.
The sun was glowing softly through the unfamiliar curtains and his head was pounding.
Where the hell was he?
This wasn't his family's house, or his dorm room in York…
The night slowly came back to him as he sat up.
Coming out over dinner; getting kicked out by his parents; driving blindly along the highway; ending up in Manchester; getting drunk; Phil.
Dan smiled and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.
He heard clattering on the other side of the wall, and walked through the doorway to see Phil at the stove, cooking bacon-and-egg sandwiches, the steam from the pan making his hair slightly frizzy.
Phil looked up and grinned, "Morning, sleepy-head. I was just about to wake you."
Dan smiled, "I think the food did it for you."
"About time too," Phil laughed, flipping the eggs, "it's almost noon."
Dan blinked, surprised. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, you must have been tired."
"I was…"
Phil put the sandwiches together and looked up at Dan.
"Are you okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"Yesterday."
"Oh… Um, yeah. I guess." Dan, once again, avoided Phil's gaze.
"Sweetie, you don't need to pretend with me," He said, holding out Dan's plate. "Tell me how you feel. Word for word."
"I don't know how I feel…" Dan murmured, staring down at his food as though it could magically shape into words and answer Phil's question for him.
Phil placed his plate o the bench and drew Dan into a hug, resting his chin on his shoulder.
"That's alright." Phil said, and smiled as Dan put his plate beside Phil's and curled his arms around his waist, hugging him back, his eyes closed.
Dan's face was buried into the hollow of Phil's neck, and he breathed in deeply, loving Phil's scent- like washing machine soap and raspberries.
"Thanks, Phil." He whispered. He didn't know why, he just knew he had to say it.
Dan could feel Phil smile against his neck.
"You're welcome, love." Came the reply.
Dan sighed and pulled away, his stomach guiding him back towards his sandwich.