Chapter Text
Phil's on his laptop, and there's an uneasiness gnawing at his stomach.
“...Dan?”
The boy in question looks up from his own screen with bright eyes and Phil falters. He knows what he wants to say. He's repeated the phrase to himself over and over, nights on end, staring at a dark ceiling in an empty bed.
This isn't working out.
“N- never mind.”
Dan shrugs and turns back to his screen. His left hand rests on the keypad, the other carelessly draped over the back of the couch, close enough for Phil to touch. He wants to – wants to grab Dan's hand, grab it and never let go. But he doesn't. He doesn't and that's enough to solidify the mess of emotions at the bottom of his chest.
-
Phil hasn't uploaded in a week, even though he's actually been attempting to post a new video every few days, and his Twitter page is under fire from millions of disgruntled fans. Phil often wonders how he got here, with people who knew him, people who cared about him. People who didn't even need to meet Phil in order to love him.
It used to make him happy. And sure, it still feels nice, and sure, Phil cares about his subscribers. But now the pleasant buzz has worn into an irritating chaotic mess and Phil almost wants to hide from it all .
-
Dan glances at Phil the same time the older boy glances up, and their eyes meet in a mutual question of are you okay?
Phil knows it's not okay. He's not sure why, but he's known for a while that it's not working out. That there's something very wrong.
An uncomfortable blush spreads across Phil's pale face, and Dan stands up quickly. Both avoid the other's eyes as Dan carries his laptop across the room. Phil remembers. It's Tuesday evening.
“I – uh, you know the drill...” Dan mutters.
“Yeah,” mumbles Phil.
A few minutes later, Phil hears a cheerful voice from Dan's bedroom and it takes him a moment to recognize it as his recently reticent flatmate. He shuts his laptop and places it on the table in front of him. Closing his eyes, Phil stretches his arms behind him. He reclines, letting the distantly familiar resonance of his – he doesn't even know what Dan is to him anymore but – his best friend's voice lull him to sleep.
---
Dan feels like he's staring out behind a mask as he forces out a bright greeting. It's not long into his liveshow before the chat begins to fill up with the usual “where's phil?”s and “how's phil doing”. It's something Dan's been wondering about recently, too, and he really doesn't need to be reminded. All Dan wants to do is take off this stupid mask of happiness and run into Phil's arms. Fuck, he thinks, an adequate summary of the past week.
-
Dan doesn't know whether to be relieved or distraught when the hour-long broadcast has ended. Back to the real world, he thinks, and bids his viewers goodbye. Dan glances at the chatbox one last time before closing his computer.
howellester129: wow no mention of phil today?
whatsaphan13: lol yeah that's a first
Fuck off, Dan thinks, then instantly feels bad. Annoyed with himself, Dan pulls himself off of his chair and sits down on his bed.
He's momentarily confused. Dan stares at his hands for a moment. You're a functional human being. Act like one.
Dan slowly stands up, feeling like a puppet. He's watching himself from outside his body. Okay, now walk towards the door. It takes much longer than it should to move from his room back to the sofa he'd previously been sharing with Phil.
Dan's heart catches as he watches his flatmate's chest rise and fall, eyes fluttering in the midst of a dream. Something warm and liquid floods over him and the feeling returns in his limbs.
There's something wrong and I don't even think I know myself anymore but I know that I love you.