A/N: Hey! So... I was supposed to upload this yesterday, but I kinda got carried away on a nostalgia trip watching videos of a theme park I used to go to every year with the fam, so I never finished it. Whoops. Do people still say 'whoops'? Probably not, let's move on.
Anyhow, it's fine, it's up now, just read.
Ciao,
-Whisker


The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the smell of fresh bed sheet linen was drifting about in the air and Dan Howell was wide-awake.

He'd woken up early when everything was quiet and the sun hadn't yet risen and the first thing he did was make sure Phil was awake… which he wasn't.

He'd laid there on the floor like an imbecile for a good ten minutes before getting up, finding a black marker pen and lying back down again beside the sofa where Phil was still fast asleep, his face hidden by the blanket and his right arm hanging, limply, over the side of the settee.

So now Dan was positioned on his back, on the floor, beside the sofa, trying as gently as he could to write 'I drew on your hand whilst you were asleep' on Phil's hand without him waking up.

It was around this time that Dil woke up and came wandering into the room, stretching his arms up and yawning as his grey bunny slippers padded on the floor.

He looked down and blinked a few times before noticing Dan, who had tipped back his head at an odd angle to be able to look up at him.

"Good morning, Dan" Dil whispered, "What are you doing?"

Dan quietly chuckled and waved him over, putting the lid back on the marker.

Dil crouched down beside him and suppressed a laugh,

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," he said, sarcastically, under his breath with a smile as he stood up again.

Dan closed his eyes, laid his head back on the rug underneath him and gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

It had been a busy day yesterday and he'd been out like a light that night, getting more sleep than he usually would. He didn't know what they were going to do today but he was sure they'd think of something.

Whatever they did, he'd be happy.

As swiftly and carefully as he could, he got up from the floor and silently got to his feet, brushing himself down before heading over to the kitchen to stand beside Dil, who was contemplating whether or not to turn the tea machine on yet.

"Have you got any ideas of what to do today?" He asked.

Dil shook his head and took three mugs out of the cupboard along with a bag of tealeaves.

"Well, Dab has to go to daycare so us four can have a day doing whatever, really," he said.

Dan tapped his lip with his pen in thought.

"Could ask Phil for suggestions," he said, eventually, casting a glance behind him to his friend before turning his head back again, "Don't worry, though; you won't have to think of things for much longer, seeing as we'll be leaving soon…"

"So early?" Dil sighed with a melancholy air, "Shame. I'll miss having you and Phil around."

Dan gave a shy laugh and stretched his arms out toward the floor, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers and wringing his hands.

"Well, there's nothing else we need to do here anymore," he explained, "What's the point in us staying?"

Dil made an expression that made it out like he was somewhat offended, opening his mouth to speak before Dan cut him off,

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" Dan quickly countered, "It's not that we don't like it here with you, only…" and he gave a sigh, "I don't know what I mean…"

Dil laughed, flippantly,

"It's alright," he assured him, "I know what you meant. You have your own life back home and people who care about you, too, and it's very important that you can get back to them."

"Two days," Dan coughed, fiddling with the marker in-between his fingers, "We can have tomorrow and most of the day after with you."

Dil nodded,

"Sounds good to me, I guess," he said and he flicked the tea maker on.

The sound inevitably woke Phil, whose eyes immediately shot open and he sat up in surprise.

"Sorry…" Dil apologised, holding his hand up in a little wave.

Phil narrowed his eyes, shook his head and yawned before lolling out over the cushions and rolling over. He lay on his back, put his hands on his chest and stared, absent-mindedly, out of the window.

The sunlight stung his eyes and so he blinked a few times to clear his vision as he sat up on his elbows and brushed his fringe up, finally deciding to get up.

"Good morning…" Dan smiled, softly, as the tea machine finished boiling and Dil poured all three cups.

Phil gave a disgruntled murmur of a 'you, too' and stumbled over to him, practically falling onto his shoulder.

Dan laughed and wrapped his right arm around him, gently running a hand over his ribs before patting his back in-between his shoulder blades.

"Hey, you seem tired still, are you sure you don't want to go back to sleep?" He asked.

"I'm fine; I'll perk up," Phil yawned, going to put an arm around Dan's shoulders but deciding, half way there, that he didn't have the energy and so dropped his hand to his side again.

Dan picked up his mug and, with his free hand, took a sip whilst thoughtfully staring into nothingness before whisking his arm away from Phil's back and pushing him up straight.

"Look, you need to wake yourself up," he said.

Phil bit his lip,

"Right…" he muttered, "Be right back whilst I stick my head in a sink full of cold water…" and he buttoned up his shirt as he tiredly made his way across the room to the washroom door.

Dan smiled, wondering when Phil would discover the pen on his hand (which he'd signed, too, with '-Danny' written at the top of his wrist).

"You know what?" Dil hummed, thoughtfully, "I hope one day Dab will find a friend and they'll be as close as you and Phil."

"Oh, do you?" Dan chuckled, "I do, too…" and he closed his eyes.

"Do you two ever argue?" Dil asked.

Dan's eyes darted open and he swallowed,

"Not a lot…" he replied, hurriedly, "We argue a bit about… little things. We've only really ever had a couple of bad arguments…"

"Recently?"

"Quite, yes."

"You'd never be able to tell from how you are now!" Dil beamed.

"Really? That's good…" Dan said, exhaling in relief (it didn't seem that Dil had picked up on anything), "Because if it looked as if we-"

He was going to continue, but a loud and slightly irritated shout interrupted him.

"DA-ANN!"

It was Phil, of course, who came back into the room a moment later, the tips of his fringe still dripping wet and a not-quite-angry frown on his face as if he was trying to look annoyed but holding back laughter.

"Sorry, pal," Dan smirked, his dimples showing up like tiny holes at the sides of his mouth.

Phil gritted his teeth, looked down to the floor and gave a short, sharp snigger, holding his hand by the wrist and trying to rub off the marker with his thumb. It wasn't working.

"I hate you, Dan…" he tutted, but he never meant it.

He looked up to meet Dan's gaze, seeming awake at last.

"I guess this'll just have to stay on my hand for the rest of the day, then," he muttered, his voice husky but not cold.

"Come here," Dan giggled to himself, waving him over, "Nice to wake up to a bit of humour, right?"

Phil wandered over to him, gave him a jesting cuff to the arm and tapped his foot on the floorboards.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Humour – right…"

"So... you don't fight?" Dil put in, addressing Dan.

"I prefer to dub it 'consensual violence'…" Phil told him with a flat tone to his voice, picking up the marker from the counter and swiftly taking the lid off to slip his arm around Dan and dot a spot of ink on the left side of his face.

"Oi, oi," Dan huffed, blithely, sniggering and swiping the pen from his hand, "Consent, remember?"

"On a par now," Phil reasoned.

"Alright, mate," Dan settled, flinging the pen (after putting its lid back on, thankfully) over his shoulder to land on the sofa behind them, "Still want your son to have a friendship like this?" He asked Dil.

Dil took a long sip of tea, put his hand on his side and sighed,

"I'll admit, I'm starting to re-evaluate…"