Dan didn't realize it was too cold outside to leave in just his joggers and a t-shirt, nor did he think about the unfathomable amount of time it was going to take to walk to PJ's, until the winter air began to bit at his hands and face insistently. He'd been walking blindly, trudging forward in a murky haze that consumed his thoughts until he could no longer function correctly. Only now did he pause, wondering why on earth he hadn't brought a jacket, where he thought he was going without a cab, and how he hadn't noticed the wind shooting through his skin and settling in his bones. He hadn't even felt that his teeth had been chattering for a few minutes; how long had he even been out here? Where was he, even? All he knew was Phil, Phil, Phil. He had to make it right. He had to.

Perhaps he had been wanting to run into Phil on the road, even if it hadn't been his conscious goal.

But right now, he was being an idiot, and he couldn't keep going on foot. Dan shook himself, feeling like his head was submerged underwater, and hailed a cab, knowing it was what he should do. He just couldn't concentrate. He focused on the simple command, go to PJ's, in his head, repeating it over and over to erase the rat race inside his head.

He didn't focus on how it could be the end of the only relationship he couldn't live without. The end of his career. The end of his internet life. The end of the Dan Howell he had shaped himself to be for the past six years. What was he without Phil? It was perhaps that thought that scared him the most, and he flinched away from it as he watched his fingers pull the handle of the cab's back door and slipped his body inside.

Dan recited the address to the cabby, hearing his voice form flatly over the words as if from another mouth. The cabby was saying something, but the words were foreign, they were unfamiliar, they weren't who Dan was looking for.

And now the cabby was looking at him expectantly, and they hadn't moved.

"Sorry?" Dan asked, clearing his throat to try and come back to himself.

"Are you trying to catch your death, wandering about without a coat? Aren't you cold?"

"Um..." Dan shifted to gaze out the window. The heat inside the cab wasn't doing much to warm him, but he felt oddly numb, and that was fine. "I forgot one, I'll get one at my friend's... Thanks."

The cabby muttered something under his breath and turned back around to shift gears. Dan didn't catch what it was, but his attention waned and he was lost in the sky as they began to move. In the blink of an eye, the cabby was pulling over again. So soon?

Dan jerked himself from his position with his temple resting on the cab's window, feeling a stiffness in his neck that shouldn't have been there yet. "Why are we stopping?"

The cabby glanced back at him with concern. "This is the place you wanted?"

Dan gazed around, spotting the familiar arch of PJ's flat across the street. "Oh... yeah. Yeah, thanks."

He paid the cabby with shaking fingers and exited the cab, not entirely unconcerned that he'd missed most of the drive. He was raising his fist to knock on PJ's door before he knew it, his memories flashing back to when Phil stood next to him on the front step, scent swirling through Dan's senses. The air was painfully void of that now.

Dan heard footsteps before PJ unlatched the lock and opened the door wide. The smile PJ had obviously prepared for Dan's arrival fell off his face as he took in his friend's appearance. Dan knew what he must look like: fringe stuck to his head, a bit curly since he hadn't bothered to ready himself before vacating his own flat; cheeks red and rose raw from chill; shoulders quivering, shivering in his stay-at-home-all-day attire.

"What happened?" PJ asked immediately, concern coloring his green eyes.

"We had sex," Dan blurted.

Shit. He probably could have started a little slower. PJ's eyes widened substantially and he stepped aside to let Dan in without a word. Dan brushed past him, the warmth inside hitting him unpleasantly and making his frozen fingers and face burn.

"Uh... So..." PJ latched the door behind them and scurried past Dan into the front room, and Dan had the distinct feeling PJ was trying to find something to occupy himself. "How did... how did that happen? Do you- do you want to talk? Do you want some tea or... or coffee or, or anything?"

Shame heated Dan's frosty cheeks; he regretted making his friend uncomfortable to soon into their visit. "Uh... sure, some tea would be nice, thanks."

PJ kept quiet as he filled a kettle and put it on to boil, letting Dan roam to the living room by himself. Dan's numb inner calm was leaking, and he felt his heart begin to beat faster as he thought about the impending reveal he was about to give. It was almost as though they could still pretend nothing had happened if he kept his mouth shut about it, but talking to PJ was about to solidify the facts into existence. But no, he needed to talk about it. He was going to go insane if he didn't.

PJ finished with the tea in a few minutes and entered the living room too, sitting himself in a chair opposite his friend, and Dan couldn't help but feel like he was about to begin a therapy session. Nevertheless, the cup PJ handed him really did do something to comfort him.

"Er..." PJ was fiddling with his teacup handle nervously, and Dan knew it was up to him to start. The worst of it was out, really, but the rest was still going to be difficult. Can't stop now, he reminded himself grudgingly. "Well... it happened like, a week ago, actually. I was just um... really drunk after this party we went to, so I didn't remember it. At all."

PJ looked up from his tea with alarm and Dan scrambled to make the situation sound better.

"I mean, I started things, apparently, and Phil was a bit tipsy, you know."

"Right, 'course." PJ took a breath like he was going to say something, but didn't.

"Are you okay?" Dan asked, cringing. He understood how shocking it must be, and he hadn't thought of that before he decided to talk. He'd been mulling this over for a week; PJ hadn't.

"Yeah! Yeah. I mean, a bit surprised, you know. I figured something had happened, but." PJ gave a tiny, awkward chuckle.

Dan trudged on. I shouldn't have come here. He probably doesn't need this. "Here's the thing, Peej, I mean, I haven't ever even considered going with another guy before, you know that. But like..." Dan swallowed. Putting this into words would have been easier if he already knew how to handle everything. "Phil has, and he's the only one I've ever... We're really close, obviously... and..." His voice dropped to a whisper.

PJ didn't look up from his tea, but he had stopped moving.

"I'm pretty sure we have feelings for each other but like... I don't know what to do. But we haven't been talking much, and this morning we had a row about it, and Phil left..." Dan felt tears begin to well in his eyes, scalding compared to his still-cool skin as they started to spill over. "I don't know how to fix it, I don't know where Phil went, and I just..." Dan was aware that his voice was thick, but he didn't care. "I don't know what to do."

Dan let himself cry as PJ sat there. It had been a week of pent up emotion, but it felt like six years of it. It probably was six years of it.

Finally, PJ cleared his throat. "What was the row about this morning?"

"Well..." How was it best to phrase this? "When we were here last night, Phil was upset about me, and he drank too much. That was when you found him in the loo, yeah?" PJ nodded. "I cleaned him up a bit and we were going to go home and he um..." He coughed. "Gave me a hickey, and I didn't tell him, but he saw it the next morning. He thinks I'm messing with him and I'm confused which I... am..." Dan struggled to express the problem as PJ put a hand to his mouth, thinking. "But I have feelings, too. I just don't know how to say it without sounding like a prick. And I'm afraid of ruining everything."

There, he'd said it. Everything was out. He was out. It still didn't even feel like he was gay or anything, really, but it was still a weight off that surprised him. PJ shifted in his chair.

"Maybe, when he comes back, you should... um... talk to him about how you feel? I'm sure he would want-"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to talk about it." Dan was sure about that much. Phil was very, very hurt, and he'd rather let everything blow over than dig up the emotions he'd been repressing since Dan had been in his life. Dan knew that now.

"Right, but you really should... Maybe you should do something? To show him? I mean, I doubt you're just... messing around." Dan nodded. PJ still seemed really unsure of what to say about all this, but the fact that he had even listened, and hadn't told Dan off or simply ran away screaming in horror, made him feel a bit better.

PJ's cellphone on the coffee table began to buzz insistently, and both boys let it for a moment before PJ snatched it up. "Probably my mother again, last night I didn't really..." His eyes bulged out of his head.

"What?" Dan asked when PJ didn't say anything and the phone continued to buzz.

"It's Phil," PJ whispered. He glanced at Dan before answering the call. "Hello?"

Dan couldn't hear it, but he knew Phil's voice was there, and he couldn't move. He was rooted to his chair, chained to the fact that Phil had called PJ and not him. Why had he called PJ?

"No, no one's here, why?" Dan strained his ears, but couldn't make out the little voice on the other end of the line. "Oh?" PJ gave Dan a terrified look.

What? Dan mouthed.

"You're just around the corner? Did you walk?" PJ reiterated Phil's half of the conversation, probably for Dan's benefit. Dan felt ice spike into his innards.

"Right, yeah, I'll be there in a second! Yeah. Bye." PJ hung up the phone.

"Hide," he hissed at Dan.