I am going on holiday for a week on Sunday so I won't be able to update for a short while. Sorry about that. Also, no triggers for this chapter just a pure kind of fluff (and a tiny bit of angst at the beginning) because I haven't written a really fluffy chapter in a while. (It took me far too long to name this chapter btw) Thank you to AreYouHaight, witbeyondmeasurexox, wonderfulfun, AccioPhandom, SciFiobsession and Kittykat0989 for reviewing. (seriously so many people :0) (But honestly it means a lot). Here we go (hope you enjoy);

Dan's POV

I wake up once again in the strange lair that is becoming more and more familiar to me; the way the light shafts through the curtains, the way the colours hit your eyes, the gentle warmth of another human being beside me. It feels like home. Maybe one day it will be.

Except one thing is missing, the gentle oceans that usually waken me with the slight rocking of a wave. Phil's eyes aren't here to greet me, in fact Phil isn't near me at all. In his place is the grating sounds of strangled cries. The bed shakes slightly and I sit up. That's when I see him. His legs are curled up under his chin, his head buried in the comfort of his knees. His hair falls across his face, hiding his emotions from me. The boy at the end of the bed is not the Phil I have come to know- he is a crumpled shadow of the boy with the wide smile and messy hair. A broken piece of the angel that saved me. My heart pulls and I instantly want to leap up and wrap my arms around him, rock him, tell him it's all going to be okay. I feel selfish. With all the problems I have been onloading onto him, I never once stopped to think that he might have problems of his own. I'd never even considered that there might be cracks in the white marble of Phil; that underneath the strong exterior, he too could be drowning, just desperately trying to keep his head above the water. And that's when I realise that no one is a perfect angel, no ones feathers are completely white. Everyone has flaws, the only thing that divides people is whether they choose to wear them on their sleeve or bury them deep beneath the ground. Before now I had always thought of myself as a storage kind of guy- the kind who digs a big hole and buries all his problems in it. But now it occurs to me that maybe my problems are more surface than I thought- maybe there are people like Phil who have dug so deep that sometimes, they forget that they have a hole at all.

I scooch over to the end of the bed, pulling the duvet with me, becoming burningly concious of how little clothes I am actually wearing. I guess I had forgotten pyjamas in all the fuss of last night. He must feel the dip in the mattress because he looks up. His eyes are red, the usual oceans stained with blood. In his eyes I see embarrassment and sadness but something else too, something about his persona relaxes when his face falls upon mine; his shoulders drop a little and his hands stop gripping his knees so tight. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him towards me and letting his face burrow into my bare chest. I can feel the tears sliding off of his cheeks and onto my torso.

I don't quite know what to say. Out of all of the times that I have been comforted, somehow I had never quite played the role of comforter before. I don't want to say "it'll be okay." because chances are it won't be. It rarely is. So instead I opt for the
"I'm here." approach, hoping that this will in some way soothe him, because honestly the sight of a crumpled and upset Phil breaks my heart piece by piece.

He latches his hands onto my shoulders, pulling himself up so his face is level with mine. His face is still tear-stained, his eyes still twinged with red but his expression is lifted slightly; he looks hopeful. He manages a small smile, flashing me a tiny smirk before attaching his lips to mine, moving himself so he is sitting on my lap with his legs arched around my back and his fingers tangling in my hair.
"Where did that come from?" I say a slight giggle adding itself to my voice.
"I'm just really glad you're here." he says, now resting his forehead against mine.
"I'm really glad I'm here too." I say, lifting my finger and brushing it across his cheek "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask as I lock my eyes on his. He shakes his head,
"Maybe later." he says, a small smile flickering onto his lips, the conversation mirroring the one we had just a few weeks ago.

Phil's POV

"Okay!" I say, forcing myself to be overly chipper. "What are we doing today?" Dan's face lights up and I can already feel my sadness drift away, the image of Carter becoming smaller and smaller in my mind's eye.
"It's snowing!" he announces, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas day.
"It was yesterday too, doofus." I say, smiling. I never thought this would be me, sat in bed with a beautiful boy as I tease him to the backdrop of snow. I shake a little, trying to get my head round it. That kind of thing only happens in the movies doesn't it? Crazy. But I like it.
"It did?" he says, pouting a little, "I can't believe I missed it!"
"Well we can make the most of it today can't we?" I say, leaning over the duvet and tilting his chin up to kiss him on the lips. Seriously what is going on here? I notice a small pink blush spread through Dan's cheeks.

"Okay up now!" I say, swinging my legs off of the bed and standing up, stretching my arms in a faux yawn and letting my pyjama top ride up just slightly. I catch Dan staring.
"Come on" I say, reaching for his arm but he recoils, grabbing onto the duvet and burying his face under it.
"Don't make me leave the warmth, don't make me get up!"
"But it's snowing Dan."
"But it's warm Phil."
"Do I have to force you out?"
"You can try." he says, burrowing further under the duvet until I can't see him at all.
"Challenge accepted." I say, leaping onto the bed right beside him and pulling the cover over my head. It's dark under the duvet but some of the light filters through. In the dim light I can see the faint outline of Dan and I reach out, my hands reaching his ribs as I tickle him. I feel him squirm beside me, his arms and legs flailing around. I take an opportunity and grab a flailing arm, pulling it until Dan's head emerges from the duvet. I pull him by both arms now, until he drops from the bed, lying on the floor in just his underwear. It is oddly arousing. I lean down, kiss him briefly on the lips. "Time to get up!" I say cheerily, earning a moan from Dan as I walk to the wardrobe.

I find myself outside, my usual navy blue coat done up, sealing the warmth inside my body. It is still snowing and I so desperately want to just tilt my head up to the sky and spin in circles, letting the snowflakes hit my hair and nose and tongue. But I hold back. I must maintain some kind of dignity in front of Dan. And then there he is, his fingers gripping at gloves as he tries to pull them on. He wears a thin brown jumper which I recognise as my own. My grandmother had bought it for me a few years ago as a birthday present. On me it had looked hideous, the colour too boring, the shape not at all flattering, but on him it looked perfect, like he had just finished up at some kind of photo shoot. I internally sigh, he would have to teach me how to do that. Along with the jumper are his usual skinny jeans and snow boots which he must have found piled in the cupboard. But best of all is the hat that covers his hair, it's grey and it's ear flaps frame his face like it's the fricking Mona Lisa. I just want to run and tackle him, letting his head hit the soft powdered snow. Sssh Phil, I tell myself, I thought we were over that stage.

He looks so dainty and shy stood in the doorway, messing with the gloves which for some reason just won't climb onto his hands. Too dainty in fact, the temptation is far too large. I bend down, gathering snow in my own gloves, glancing up through my eyelashes to check that his eyes are still diverted. They are. Unable to wipe the smirk from my face, I tiptoe over, looking, as I am aware, very suspicious. Thankfully Dan doesn't pick up on it and after the long wrestle with his gloves, all he does is smile when he sees me walking over. That's his first mistake. His second is that he doesn't dodge, doesn't dodge when I launch my hand forward, splattering his face with ice cold snow. He screams, shivering and shaking before his screams turn slowly into laughter and then into a grimace.
"I'm going to get you!" he shouts and I run, my feet slipping and sliding in the snow. I swing round the corner and down the road, thankful that this isn't the kind of road which cars use. I run and run but he is catching up; he's a hell of a lot faster than you might expect. With a quick spin round I can see the powdered snow gripped in his hand and I try and run faster but I fail, my breath already hitching and my legs already tired. I just about make it onto the snow-covered field before he tackles me, slamming my head down into the snow with one hand and pouring it down my back with the other. I squeal like a little girl, grabbing onto his collar and pulling him down into the snow with me. We both laugh until our stomachs hurt and our backs are numb with the cold.
"Did I win that one?" Dan asks.
"Did you heck."
"Well I don't see you retaliating."
"I pulled you down into the snow!"
"Yeah but you stayed down, that's a knock out surely."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Is not." I try to respond but by now I am laughing too hard, so all I do is roll over so that my eyes are just centimetres away from his, the last laugh drifting away.
"Fine, you win." I say smiling.
"Of course I do."

We soon grow cold, the snow melting and dribbling down our backs like little waterfalls but we don't dare move, with our hands linked and our heads to the sky everything seems perfect in the world. No rips or tears in the happiness can be seen. But I am scared that as soon as I move, the bubble will pop and I will fall back into reality. I sigh. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't we constantly live within the bubble? How come something always has to come along and pop it?

I feel Dan's hand start to shiver within my own and I turn to look at him, breaking my contact with the sky. His deep brown eyes against the clear white snow make my heart flip; physically flip. I feel an overwhelming urge to pin him against the snow and kiss him. Something's wrong with me, one person isn't supposed to make you feel all that and yet he does. Suddenly I don't care about the sky or the snow or the birds, I only care about him.
"Are you cold?" He nods, his eyes growing bigger and he looks so fucking cute I think I almost melt into the snow then and there. "Lets get you inside." I say, pulling him by our knotted hands.

We walk down the lane, hands entwined and swinging. Every so often I sneak a sly glance at Dan, admiring the dusting of snow across the back of his hat and the snowflakes that still linger on his lashes.

Dan's POV

As we approach the house, I can see a car in the drive, it's red metallic paint gleaming in the bright snow.
"Phil?" He turns his head to me, looking like he had just been snapped out of some sort of deep thought, his pupils growing smaller as he stares. He smiles,
"Yes?"
"Whose car is that?" He looks temporarily confused, the smile falling and forming a puzzled expression.
"Which car?"
"The one on the drive." I say, raising a finger.
"What- Oh shit!" he exclaims, letting go of my hand and pushing me as far away from him as he can. I stumble in the snow and almost hit one of the many bushes that line the street, a bemused grin lighting up my face.
"What's up?" I say, laughing and making my way back to him but his face remains stony.
"Sssh. It's my brother."
"So?"
"So he doesn't know you're here."
"I'm sure he won't mind all that much."
"Oh I'm sure he will, he isn't erm very erm accepting."
"And he'll jump to that conclusion? He won't just assume we're friends?"
"Nope apparently a gay guy can't have male friends." I sigh, exasperated.
"What should I do?" I ask.
"Umm." he's stopped now, his face panic stricken as he runs a hand through his soaking wet hair. He looks so tense and I just want to fling my arms around him and whisper in his ear that it'll be fine, even if that isn't strictly true.
"I can wait out here?" I say, but my body gives me away with an untimely shiver.
"No it's too cold." he says, looking at the floor, his voice suddenly sad and his hood covering his face, "Come in, I'll tell him that I bumped into you when walking in the snow or something." I laugh,
"Because that will make it sound less romantic?" He nudges me and laughs,
"Oh fuck it, shall I just tell him? It'll be a hell of a lot easier."
"Okay but don't mention the whole living here thing because I'm not sure your parents would agree."
"Oh god no." he says, his eyes lighting up with both amusement and horror.

He knocks on the door and it opens. Michael stares down at Phil with both worry and disapproval etched onto his face; and that's before he sees me. Then his face drops almost to the floor.
"Who's this?" he says curtly and Phil seems to stammer. I take his hand for support.
"This is Dan." Michael's eyes find our knotted hands and his eyebrows arch.
"And who is Dan?" Phil gulps,
"My b-boy-boyfriend." Michael's eyes cut into mine and I smile sweetly,
"Hi."
"And what's he doing here?"
"I invited him." Phil says, his voice getting stronger by the minute. Michael's eyes narrow.
"Do mum and dad know?"
"Mike, I'm nearly eighteen and they gave me this house for the holidays. I really don't think it's any of their business."
"I hate it when you call me Mike."
"I know." And with that he storms past, dragging me behind him, giving me just enough time to give 'Mike' a little salute as I hurry past. He does not look amused. Before long we hear the sound of an engine and the squeak of tyres as he pulls away. Phil finally laughs, the tension diffused.
"Well that was eventful." he says, collapsing onto his bed
"Tell me about it."

It's silent for a while, both of us trying to contemplate what just happened. But then a voice perks up from atop of the duvet,
"Those clothes are all wet, you should probably take them off." Phil says.
"Trying to get me out of my clothes already are we?" I say, winking. Phil only sighs an affectionate kind of sigh, peeling himself off of the bed and heading towards the chest of drawers. He throws me a pair of pyjamas.
"Maybe tonight you'll sleep with clothes on." he says pointedly. I blush a little,
"Maybe."

I start peeling off my clothes, Phil was right, they're soaked right through to the skin. I see him blush, coughing slightly and turning round to put his own pyjamas on. And as much as I don't want to, I turn around, out of respect for Phil's innocence.

I have only just pulled the top over my head when I feel a breath at my ear and arms around my chest.
"Hey."
"Hey." I say, turning round and catching his lips.
"It's time for cuddles." he says and his cuteness almost over powers me. He takes my hand and leads me to the living room, slotting a dvd into the player and sitting down onto the sofa. He pats the spot next to him and I join him, nuzzling my head into his chest as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. The room of shadows already seems so far away.

Okay btw I found this really hard to write for some reason it might be because it's so hot and idk I haven't written fluff in a while. (So that's why it's quite short and crap and there are no advancements) Thanks for reading and please review :) (I'll give you lemonade or something because jesus it's hot)