Dan hoped there wouldn't be too many people, so that maybe he and Phil could make some polite small talk to a couple blokes, give a quick hello to PJ to let him know they'd stopped by, make the excuse that they were busy and tired with their hectic lives, and get on the road within the hour. But fate seemed to have left their side since last Friday.
When they arrived on the front step, a muffled, thumping beat could be heard inside (Dan was sure PJ's neighbors would love that), and the door swung open a minute later to... well.
It was packed.
PJ's London place wasn't huge; he just wasn't the sort of guy to have lots of people in his company at any time, usually preferring to have only a couple per visit. Last year's birthday party was the first time he'd had more than twenty people over, and even then, it still wasn't public. The flat was two stories, spacious by all means, but small enough to have kept their fun private and somewhat quiet.
That was clearly not the case this year.
At first, Dan couldn't see who ushered them inside and closed the door behind them. The front hallway was dark, and even that had people in it; the music volume increased the farther they stepped inside, reverberating in Dan's eardrums painfully.
It was only when PJ shouted, "Phil! Dan!" that Dan realized it was their host.
PJ was dressed in a simple grey button-down that may or may not have had a jacket at some point, but it was now hanging askew on his shoulders, one side of his collar popped up, and something may or may not have been spilled down the front (Dan had trouble telling if it was a spill or just a shadow. Who said it could be this dark in here?). Lights were flashing dimly from the distant living room area, and off to the left, an unidentifiable couple was snogging on the stairs.
Dan wanted to glance over at Phil and give him a surreptitious smile, a mutual communication of "wow, this isn't our scene", but after a rememberance of the tension in the car, he kept his eyes on PJ.
"Glad to see you made it!" PJ yelled above the music. He slapped Phil on the back a little too roughly, swinging forward into their faces with his next step. Drunk, already? Dan stuck his hand into his pocket and brought out his phone, leaning a little so he'd be hidden behind Phil as he checked the time. It was just past 8pm. How did a party get this wild this fast? Let alone a party at PJ's?
Dan had just slipped his phone back into his pocket when Phil produced an envelope from the inside of his jacket, handing it to PJ. "Happy Birthday! You can... open it later!" Phil had to lean and speak into PJ's ear, though Dan heard him well enough.
Dan tugged on his older friend's jacket as PJ began to rip the envelope open anyway. "What is that?" he hissed into Phil's ear.
"A birthday present. A... giftcard, nothing special."
PJ had evidently already seen the contents, for without warning, he brought Dan and Phil in for a squished, three-person hug. Dan closed his eyes and prayed for his life to end as he was pressed into Phil's chest. "Thank you so much. You guys didn't have to do that... I'm so glad to see you." At least, that was what Dan assumed he said. It was hard to tell over all the cheering that had just erupted in the living room.
Finally, he released them, and Dan and Phil sprung apart. PJ took no notice, instead gripping Phil's shoulder tightly. "Can I get you guys anything? Drinks? Food's in the kitchen..."
"No, no," Dan and Phil muttered together. PJ frowned.
"We can find our way around, I'm sure!" Phil beamed at him.
PJ grinned back. "Right you are, Phil!" And with that, he turned and made his way back to the living room.
Dan rounded on his flat mate the second their host was gone. "I didn't see any gift card!"
Phil's fake grin for PJ had disappeared. "Yeah, well, you were kind of preoccupied all week, so I took it on myself."
Dan tried to ignore the rising guilt in his chest. "That's not true, I was with you plenty of times and you could have told me! How much was it for?"
"A hundred and fifty pounds."
Dan didn't know what to say. That was... that was far too much for someone they didn't see very often. And there was a jealously he didn't understand that was making his chest constrict.
"We can't afford that."
"It was out of my own money."
Dan's mouth opened, closed. Why had Phil personally made sure to give PJ a nice birthday gift? Without telling Dan? He looked down from where he was positioned to yell an angry comment back into Phil's ear, and something about the closeness caught him, strange as it was in this situation. He was inches away from Phil's face, maybe less than that from Phil's ear, a little more than that from the slope of Phil's nose. That same scent that had engulfed their silence in the car was wrapping itself around him now, too, and it was warm.
His mind brought him back to the moment from last Saturday morning, in Phil's bed, closing his eyes, wanting to make things okay between them... wanting to make Phil happy. He was so close; his eyes ran wildly from Phil's black fringe, where Dan's nose was practically buried, to Phil's cheek, to Phil's chin, to Phil's lighter lashes, to Phil's lips. If Dan just leaned down, just a little bit... It would be so easy. So... nice. But there were people in here, and there was still that couple making out on the stairs not actually that far away from them, and they were still standing in the entryway of PJ Liguori's house...
Phil turned his face upward to say something and Dan automatically snapped to the side so Phil could talk in his ear.
"It's nothing. Really. Just some extra I had around," Phil explained. Though Dan highly doubted that anyone just had a hundred and fifty pounds extra "around", he nodded, swallowing, because he was still trying to pull himself together and Phil hadn't seen a thing.
I'm just confused, I shouldn't act on any impulses, really. I'm confused. But deep down, he knew what he was, really.
He was fucked.
Phil turned away to head into the living room, and Dan did as well, forcing his shaky feet into motion, reeling.
The living room was crowded, people dancing and stumbling everywhere. A game toward the kitchen served as explanation for why everyone was drunk at eight o'clock; Dan took one look and quickly surmised that the object of the game was to take shots. His stomach lurched as he smelled vodka.
Phil prodded him in the back and pointed behind the drinking game, where there was a sliding door that led to a deck outside. Dan nodded once and followed Phil, taking a lungful of non-alcoholic air as they stepped out. It was a bit chilly to stay out here, but they could remain long enough to see who was out here, at least.
To their delight, Chris and Anthony were among the group gathered on the deck. Though also already loud (they were listening to Anthony tell a story about American college parties, and a few of them were actually crying with mirth), the group was a welcome release from the pounding bass inside. There was a chorus of enthusiastic "hello"s and "how are you"s and slaps on the back as they greeted each other warmly and resituated themselves into the circle of men and women.
It wasn't half an hour before someone questioned their suspicious lack of alcohol.
"So... do you need some drinks?" Chris asked after a wild story involving a woman in a cat suit. Why? Dan thought to himself. Why today?
"Oh, no," Phil chuckled, patting Anthony's arm. "Not after what we had to take home last year!"
There was a roar of laughter as Anthony turned a bit red and nodded along.
"It's true," he mumbled, a smile creeping its way out of his lips.
"Hold on, though, I seem to remember something about Dan getting someone to drop the cake out the window during one of my parties!" Chris stepped into the circle as he said this, calling the attention to himself. There was an outbreak of laughter again, some remembering, some disbelieving.
It was Dan's turn to blush at the memory, and he knew more were coming as soon as Chris took another breath. Oh shit.
"Things take quite a turn when Dan gets sloshed! Truth or dare has turned out some of the best- he'll do anything. Once, we asked him to strip down to his pants and run out in the snow- remember that Dan?" The crowd couldn't contain themselves. "And, another time, we told him to go out and try to surprise snog the next girl who walked by- we said to ourselves, 'wait until you see the look on her face', when he walked up to her- but she kissed him back, actually! Dropped her bag and everythin'!"
This shouldn't have been nearly as funny as the group of tipsy listeners thought it was; in fact, Dan sort of wished he could have fled PJ's flat and ran back to his own, or at least covered Phil's ears so he didn't have to hear. Dan saw Phil edging out of the cirlce, unobserved. When he turned to look, Dan barely caught the flash of black hair disappearing inside. Shit. Had he upset Phil? Or did Phil just go off to find precious one hundred-fifty pound birthday boy? Dan shook his head of his weird, stupidly possessive thoughts and turned his attention back to the conversation. For all he knew, Phil had slipped off to the bathroom and would be right back.
Dan checked his phone a while later, cursing when he realized more than thirty minutes had run away in what he had only thought was ten. Maybe he should go find Phil? But Phil was a grown man; he didn't need Dan to do everything with him. So Dan promised himself another ten minutes before he'd make sure Phil hadn't gone home or anything. Then he got into a discussion with Chris and Anthony about the differences in British culture in different areas, and he lost track of time.
When he checked again, it had been around another forty-five minutes, and it was now almost ten. He was shivering, and the group had huddled up together for warmth. Dan excused himself and reluctantly opened the sliding door to enter the party again, letting his ears adjust to the loud music. He quickly passed the drinking game, which was still going strong, its participants chanting and cheering and in general being obnoxious. He searched in the rest of the living room, in the kitchen, in the entryway where they'd come in. The stairs were now empty, and judging by the muffled sound coming from above, he didn't want to check up there for Phil. He returned to the living room, searching again, scanning. Nope. No Phil.
Dan looked for a little while longer before dragging himself outside again, sending a text to Phil- Where are you?- before squeezing back into the group between Anthony and Chris, worry beginning to eat at his insides right alongside his mixed confusion and guilt. He'd have to wait.
Ten minutes and still no text later, Dan felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, relaxing because finally Phil was going to ask if he wanted to leave- but was surprised when he found himself staring into the face of PJ, and not his flatmate.
"Dan, can you come here for a second?" PJ looked serious. He was frowning deeply, and something seemed to have sobered him.
Dan stepped away from the group. "What's up?"
"It's Phil. He's in the bathroom."
Dan sucked in a breath. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought to check there. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"
"You need to take him home."
