Chapter Text
Dan
The 20 minutes between Wokingham and Reading seemed to stretch out endlessly. Dan usually liked long journeys, where he could just listen to music and shut his brain off for a bit. But, when it came to seeing Phil, even a second leading up to their reunion lasted forever. He drummed his fingers on the seat next to him. It was too cold, too empty. He ached to touch something that he couldn’t quite reach- not yet.
-
(Phil) im here!! on platform 7!!! 12:58pm
(Dan) just pulling into the car park!!! 12:58pm
(Phil) a man sat in front of me on the tables like half an hr ago and has been death staring at me every time i breathe
he may b following me
b prepared to run from the serial killer ive attracted 12:58pm
(Dan) b prepared to die bc i cant run to save my life.. literally 12:58pm
-
“Honey, are you listening?” Dan’s mum said.
“What, sorry?” He tugged his headphones off.
“Don’t be too long. I’ll be driving around, I’m not paying 5 quid for a space,” She started, as she pulled into the car park. “What platform’s Phil on?”
“7.” Dan said.
“You have his number, right?”
“Yeah, mum.”
"Phone him if you can’t find the platform,” she told him.
“It's the one my train always leaves from, don’t worry.”
“Okay, be safe!”
“I will! See you in a sec!” he said.
Dan hopped out of the car, smiling from ear to ear already. Swerving around swathes of commuters, he made his way into the station. He could see what Phil meant about the grumpy passengers- they swarmed everywhere, grumbling about slow walkers and delays. His skittish walking pattern attracted a few tuts from men in pristine black and white suits. They were the kind of businessmen that could frown for England: and that described Reading’s commuter population perfectly.
Dan’s phone pinged. He slid into the unoccupied shadows to read the message, avoiding the speed-walking crowds.
(Phil) dannnn idk how much longer i can avoid the death staring man 1pm
(Dan) dw im coming!! be there in 5 1pm
(Phil) aaaa see u soon!!! ill evade him til u come save me 1pm
(Dan) i’ll be ur knight in shining armour dont worry 1pm
(Phil) [replied to ‘b prepared to die bc i cant run to save my life.. literally.’] this u? 1pm
(Dan) shut uppp or ill leave u with the serial killer.. also this U??? 1:01pm
Dan lurked in a corner for a second, waiting for the picture to send. He could’ve waited literally a few minutes to show Phil in person, but it was worth the few pennies for an immediate reaction over text. Though just thinking about how Phil was just a few minutes away had excitement buzzing through Dan’s veins.
He started walking again, flicking his hand from left to right to channel that energy somewhere.
(Phil) absolutely
tho dont besmirch her name like that
sarah michelle geller as daphne in scooby doo (2002) is strong and powerful and doesnt need a man to save her 1:01pm
(Dan) ok nvm it’s not u then x 1:01pm
(Phil) omg wait.. 1:02pm
(Dan) ??? 1:02pm
(Phil) maybe UR in cahoots with the starer!! U r my stalker after all 1:02pm
Dan hid a smile. Phil always came up with the most outlandish stories and theories to make him laugh. He’d noticed that Phil did it more in the days leading up to their meetups, too.
(Dan) ur such an idiot 1:02pm
Dan texted back, shaking his head fondly.
(Phil) then why r u coming to save me, hm? :) 1:02pm
His eyes flitted away from the screen. God, he could almost hear that sentence in Phil’s voice, the smiley face and all. Something in his chest fluttered. Dan knew he was probably wearing the stupidest smile known to man at that moment, but he didn’t care. It was impossible to, with Phil not just through the screen, but dangerously nearby. It was dangerous: for the range of Dan’s heartbeat, and for his facial muscles. He didn’t know how much smiling they could take without having some kind of aneurysm.
(Dan) i wont be able to save u if i get killed 1st
ive got like 10000 death stares istg
trying to not to bump into crowds of teens
n searching for ur stalker-killer guy 1:03pm
(Phil) good luck
ull need it 1:03pm
(Dan) stalker-killer quest ce sais or however that one song goes 1:03pm
(Phil) btw..did you pay to send me that pic 1:04pm
(Dan) maaaybe… 1:04pm
(Phil) daniel james howell. 1:04pm
(Dan) shhh ur not my daaad 1:04pm
Dan swerved around a pole, out of the shadows and into an open waiting space. He looked around for a second, and decided that he could afford to keep texting. This area seemed pretty commuter-free.
(Dan) and whos the stalker now
you full namer
philip michael lesyer
Lestr 1:04pm
(Phil) karma x 1:05pm
(Dan) lester
i hate u forever 1:05pm
-
Phil
It was weird, being on the other side of things. Phil was used to lounging around Manchester Piccadilly like he owned the place, saving a seat for Dan at their favourite little sushi pop-up shop. Reading Station was unfamiliar. There were less teens taking a trip to town- more uptight commuters, and a generally grumpy aura.
The station gave off the impression that passengers should just be passing through: it was a transitional space, not a hub of community. People around Dan’s age squeezed themselves into shadowy corners, but there were no little local restaurants to sit down at, no chatter among acquaintances. The cold lighting of the chain stores didn’t add to the atmosphere. At least Phil wasn’t bothered by the lack of seating- he’d been sitting down for a good few hours on the train.
Despite the alien coldness of the place, Phil felt strangely happy, knowing that Dan was so close by. His excitement seeped into the air around him. He cupped his phone between his hands, as if he could concentrate all of that buzzing energy into the screen he shared with Dan.
Ping!
(Dan) ur such an idiot 1:02pm
Phil giggled. The sound pierced through the relatively quiet waiting area. It was hard to feel self-conscious, though, with his heart fluttering at the thought of Dan rolling his eyes and smiling at his message.
(Phil) then why r u coming to save me, hm? :) 1:02pm
Phil loved getting Dan mock-wound-up with stupid accusations and theories. In the weeks they went without seeing each other, it was the closest he could get to their real-life teasing.
It took Dan a minute or so to answer. With the crowds of people milling around and getting in the way, he couldn’t blame him. It was probably a miracle he was able to text at all while navigating this maze of a station- though he did know it much better than Phil did.
(Dan) i wont be able to save u if i get killed 1st
ive got like 10000 death stares istg
trying to not to bump into crowds of teens
n searching for ur stalker-killer guy 1:03pm
Phil had exaggerated a bit about the weird guy on the train- though he did seem to attract odd people everywhere he went. That guy had just sat on a seat opposite him, looked up from his newspaper and made eye contact a little more than the average person.
Train rides were boring, so he made up stuff and texted Dan to distract himself. Dan knew what he was like at this point. He probably had from the beginning. So the stalker stayed in the confines of their imaginations. Phil wasn’t too near anyone else right now, anyway. Everyone seemed to keep their distance in Reading.
(Phil) good luck
ull need it 1:03pm
He maintained their little back-and-forth game, though. The pretending would be good practice for spending a day with Dan’s family. Dan's family. He flicked his hands back and forth a bit, trying to dissuade the anxiety he felt around the thought of meeting them. Even with his own pretty laid-back family, they’d only been around adults together once or twice on their visits. It always felt like a bit of a shot in the dark as to how they should act. It felt especially close to the "meeting the parents" scenarios that you see in coming-of-age movies, from what Dan had told him about his parents. Overprotective but nagging mother, distant and socially inconsiderate father.
(Dan) stalker-killer quest ce sais or however that one song goes 1:03pm
Phil chuckled again . The slight butterfly-ish nervousness in his stomach subsided. He was flooded with warmth again. Dan had a mysterious way of doing that. Just taking all of his worries and tucking them away for the time they were together. Even afterwards- Phil would often scroll back through their messages to distract himself from the knot in his stomach whenever they had to part. That reminded him of a message from earlier…
(Phil) btw..did you pay to send me that pic 1:04pm
(Dan had a habit of paying to send Phil pictures. He didn’t listen when Phil told him not to. Even if they were of Sarah Michelle Geller.)
(Dan) maaaybe… 1:04pm
(Phil) daniel james howell. 1:04pm
(Dan) shhh ur not my daaad 1:04pm
(It was cute, really. It was nice to see the ways Dan thought of him at random times through random pictures.
(Dan) and whos the stalker now
you full namer
philip michael lesyer 1:04pm
Phil chuckled. Dan’s frequent spelling mistakes were an easy source of entertainment. He could see it in his mind’s eye- the knowing crinkle of Dan’s eyes, the way he’d be frantically typing to correct his mistake.
A few people nearby started shuffling to their next train. Phil moved over to a now-empty chair. It was stiff, but it was somewhere to sit, at least. Just as he started to settle into it, he noticed a shift in the structured footsteps of commuting crowds. The patterns of left-right-left-right were pierced by a stuttering, skittish one.
Phil’s head perked up.
It still happened every time, like it was the first all over again. His heart skipping a beat, him rising from his seat on instinct, his hands shaking. Dan wasn’t even too nearby. He was across the pretty sizable waiting area, head bent over his phone but occasionally jerking up so he could avoid crowds of people.
(Dan) Lestr 1:04pm
Phil smirked. Both at the spelling mistake, and at being able to see Dan’s reactions. He’d stopped for a second as he realised the error, eyes shut in a slight, embarrassed smile. Almost unthinkingly, Phil started wandering towards Dan, careful to stay just out of his eyeline. It was rare for him to be the one able to watch from afar, to see Dan in his natural state. Just texting him, not caring about anything else.
(Phil) karma x 1:05pm
Though Dan was in darker areas of the room, Phil could see him stop again for a second, holding the flip-phone to his chest. Phil was closer to him now. He could see smaller details, like the way he wiped at the persistent smile on his face, or how his hands were partly covered with the ends of his too-long sweatshirt.
(Dan) lester
i hate u forever 1:05pm
(Phil) youre literally smiling
you love me really 1:05pm
He watched Dan’s surprise gleefully. His head flew up, his eyes searching the room like a hawk. Phil texted him a hint.
(Phil) to the left a bit 1:06pm
Dan’s head darted to the left. He was met with a wall.
(Phil) oops
to the right a bit 1:06pm
He did the same thing, instead met with crowds and queues. He squinted, trying to see if anyone vaguely Phil-ish was sitting in the chairs that he’d just abandoned. Phil left him searching, just for one more second of him being so sweet, so candid.
(Phil) turn around, idiot :) 1:06pm
Dan turned. His eyes widened. He broke out into a such a fucking wide smile. They were in each others’ arms before Phil could even blink.
It felt so new. A different backdrop. A different routine. A different adrenaline rush. It was a vacuum; Dan pulled all the air and stars and every ounce of the universe’s energy into their embrace. The force of it almost knocked Phil over, to a level it hadn’t reached since last October.
God, how he wished he could freeze that moment and live in it forever.
“Hi,” Dan whispered.
“Hey,” Phil said, into the side of the other's neck.
Dan was standing up straighter than usual. He was stiffer. He'd let Phil into parts of the life he lived in Wokingham- the fear, the bullying, the constant vigilance. So, just for a second, Phil let himself stand there and breathe him in. The scent of vanilla and his natural warmth and just Dan . There, in front of him again. Then he pulled his chin back over Dan’s shoulder. He opened his eyes again. It was friendly now, nothing more. Better safe than sorry.
Dan let go, stepped back. His eyes flicked across the room for a few seconds. To make sure none of his classmates are around, Phil thought.
“You okay?” Phil asked.
He could see the lines in Dan’s forehead, the slight worry that seeped into his honey-dark eyes. It was something Phil often noticed for the first few minutes of Dan’s visits- to a lesser degree- before he remembered he was in Manchester, free from the jockish guys from his school. This was on a different level.
But, after checking the coast was clear, Dan met his eyes again, nodding slightly.
“Mhm, just…” He led him away by the shoulder, further into the shadows.
“I’m pretty sure my mum taught me not to let creepy stalkers take me to a second location,” Phil quipped, in a light whisper.
“Shut up. Hate you,” Dan giggled.
He pulled them into a crevice behind a large pole, far from the other people at the station. He knew this place pretty well. Phil, if he were a different kind of person, would’ve wondered whether this was a trick he pulled often, with other people. Taking them to dark, secretive places. But he wasn’t that kind of person. And, even if he was, it’d be hard to focus on a smidge of jealousy or doubt at that second.
“I missed you,” Dan whispered.
Phil wrapped his arms around him, hunching over to bury himself in the space between Dan’s neck and shoulder. Somehow, they started spinning, smiles pressed to the collar of each other’s shirts. Their laughter was lost in the noise of crowds walking and bags rustling.
Phil was so glad that Dan was a hugger. From the reserved ways he expressed his love online, he’d expected him to be less physically affectionate in person. But Phil had never been so happy to be wrong.
Dan cradled him like glass- precious yet his. Breakable and worthy of protection; but sharp, able to splinter into him at any moment.
That was something about him that knocked all the air out of Phil’s chest. His goddamn contradictions. His seeming innocence, yet obvious flirtation; his politeness, yet his overtness; his overwhelming kindness to others, yet his less kind view of himself. Moments like those, when he was being spun around in a tiny corner of a train station, made Phil wonder how Dan could ever see himself in such a dark, small way.
How couldn’t he see this giant force of light and love?
“I missed you too.”
The embrace ended with Phil leaning back against the pole. Dan’s arms were still resting on his hips.
“Nice to see you again.” Phil said, faux-casually.
Dan let out his cackle of a laugh. “Yeah, just nice. After the Disney princess sweep-me-into-your-arms bullshit I just pulled?” he drawled, “Yeah, it’s okay to see you, I guess.” But he knew: with such a sickeningly sweet smile sneaking onto his face, he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Oh, really? Guess I’ll just hop on a train back to Manchester then,” Phil joked. He ran his fingers down Dan’s chest. “Kiss me before you miss me.”
“That’s not a fucking quote! Who said that, Plato?”
Ping!
(Mum) Dan, have you found Phil yet?
Text me when you have. 1:11pm
(Missed call from Mum) 1:16pm
“Oh, shit, my mom called me. She’s doing laps ‘round the car park ‘cause she’s too cheap to get a space.”
(Dan) sorry, yep found him!!
coming back out now x 1:17pm
Dan started leaving, dragging Phil with him.
“Nooo, come back!” Phil whined.
“We have to go, child.”
Phil shoved him lightly, but came out too.
Wandering back out of the hidey-hole, they fell into their familiar rhythm of swerving around commuters, chatting, and laughing.
“You know you literally could’ve waited 2 minutes to show me that Sarah Michelle Geller picture?”
“How are you reading my exact thoughts from whenever we talk about Buffy?” Dan teased.
“Shut uppp.” Phil’s northern inflections got stronger on certain phrases- and that was one of them. Dan smiled to himself every time. It was strangely endearing.
“Her face is LITERALLY ingrained into my brain from the amount of times you’ve shown me photos of her. And you have the audacity to scold me for sending you -”
Phil put a hand over Dan’s mouth.
“-Fohos dfff mumrh mifell fellbr,” he finished his sentence. Phil hated himself for still being able to tell what Dan was saying. He rolled his eyes, but quickly pulled his hand away, knowing that Dan would go to lick it if he was held captive for too long. It was a lesson he’d learnt the hard way.
“No licking today, Spaniel.”
“You’re the actual worst,” Dan said, giving him a look. “Sending you to an old people’s home as soon as I can.”
Phil put a hand to his chest, miming a gasp. “You’d have to answer to Kath then!”
“Good. I like her more than you.” Dan deadpanned.
Humid air blasted them as soon as they stepped outside. Dan had forgotten how bad it was while in the heavily air-conditioned station.
“Shit, it’s hot,” he said.
With one hand, he texted his mum that they were outside the station. With the other, he fanned himself, pretty ineffectively. British summer was way too stifling. Phil started fanning him with both hands, as if he was the servant of a 16th century monarch.
“Ah yes. Bow down to your master.” Dan said, tipping his head back to bask in the sun and the barely noticeable breeze that Phil was causing.
“I hate you.” Phil made his voice smaller, like a tantruming toddler’s.
“Stop fanning me then. I dare you.”
He swiped lightly at Dan’s shoulder. Dan flicked him back. It was too hot for proper play-fighting, but they did the best they could with their newly heat-exhausted limbs. Their usual thwacks with pillows and unexpected tackles became light flicks and swipes and kicks at the ankles.
I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. Here’s the evidence. Here’s to hoping it doesn’t fade.
“Boys! I’m overheating in here, get in!” Dan’s mum pulled up nearby and called to them. “I don’t want a traffic warden on my back!”
They stopped their play-fighting, freezing in their tracks. But Phil caught Dan’s eye and they both burst out laughing again. They walked over to the car. Dan’s shoulders were a bit stiffer again. Phil cracked his knuckles as he walked. It was a nervous habit that drove most people up the wall, but Dan had never complained about it.
At that moment, his fingers were fidgeting to hold something- to reach out for Dan and say I’m here. We have each other. We’ll get through this. They ached to do things they could only do behind closed doors, or in the shadowy corners of a train station.
“Phil, you can sit in the front, love. The air-con doesn’t quite reach the back seats,” she said, through the window.
“Thank you, Mrs Howell.”
“Oh you don’t ha-” she chuckled, “you can just call me Ann.”
“Cool!” Phil shot a thumbs up at her. (Another nervous habit. It was worse than the knuckle-cracking- teachers had noticed and laughed about it in secondary.)
“Oh, thanks mum. I’ll just sit in the back and boil, then,” Dan drawled. He opened the door for Phil, “Your majesty.”
Dan
Dan flopped into the back. His jeans stuck uncomfortably to the seats. The heat really had invaded the car. Luckily, he’d avoided the humidity for a good amount of time, so his hair hadn’t reached hobbit levels just yet. But it was only a matter of time…
“Dan’s told us so much about you Phil,” Dan’s mum started.
She said it like he gave out any information freely- it was more like he was interrogated before he first met up with Phil in Manchester. Dan basically had to create a friend application to present to his mum: ‘age 22, York Uni graduate, from Rawtenstall (in Lancashire) but moving to Manchester soon, likes the same bands I do, not a stalker sent to kill me, etc etc.’
“Er, all good things, I hope?” Phil joked. He had the air of a parent to a badly-behaved child at a parent’s evening.
“Of course. He said you went to York University…?”
“Oh- erm, yeah. I did English Language and Linguistics for three years, and then video post-production for a fourth.”
“Fancy! Any particular reasons for those choices?”
“Mm, I wanted to be a forensic linguist. These spy kinda guys that can analyse people’s voices to solve crimes. Then I made some short films with my roommates in my free time, and thought I’d give video post-production a go.”
Dan smiled: though he could tell Phil was tense with all the small talk, he loved seeing the glint in his eyes and excited rhythm in his voice whenever he talked about his interests. He hoped his mum could see that, too.
“And now you’re going out into the wide world?”
“At the end of this summer, yeah. I moved back in with my mum and dad, but I’m off to Manchester soon.”
“It’ll be a lot easier for you and Dan to see each other then, mm? With Dan hopeful to go to Manchester Uni?”
“Aha, yeah.”
She caught Dan’s eye in the rear view mirror, then briefly turned to Phil. In a stage-whisper, she said:
“Remind him to put water in the pot when he makes pasta.”
“Mum! Don’t you dare tell him the pasta story. I will literally disown you.”
“The pasta story?” Phil turned, eyebrows raised. “No, no, carry on, Ann. Tell me all about the pasta story.”
“You are a treat, aren’t you? I’m surprised Dan didn’t tell you, I would’ve thought so from the way he brings you up in almost every conversation!”
Phil had the decency to look slightly sheepish, though Ann didn’t say it meanly. She carried on.
“The first time he tried to make pasta, a few months ago, he didn’t realise you have to put water in the pot with it. So he left it for a quarter of an hour on the stove and served us burnt pasta for dinner!”
“You BURNT pasta?? I didn’t even know that was possible,” Phil said, ludicrously.
“They don’t teach you these things in school, okay??”
“It was properly brown. Not a speck of yellow, and he didn’t even make sauce to cover it up!” Ann laughed.
“One second you’re making shitty-” “Language, Daniel” (both Ann and Phil said, instinctively) “-Apple crumbles in Food Tech, next thing you know you’re making a pot of pasta without any instructions and expected to know it needs water?? This is why school is useless.”
“Don’t go telling Adrian that, it’s hard enough getting him to go as it is!”
Dan found himself smiling as the conversation carried on. It was lighter now- though embarrassment was the price he paid. But honestly? It could’ve been worse. He just hoped his mum wouldn’t bring out the baby videos when they got home.
How do you get your hair like that, love? My GHD's never do the trick for mine,” Ann asked, as she admired Phil's hair. Phil mimed the motions of backcombing and hair-messing and spraying vicious amounts of heat protectant.
As Ann carried on, telling Phil about Dan’s other mishaps- the meringue incident, his detentions, how he was fired from nearly every job he got- they laughed along, more at ease than before. Phil put his hand out of the window, slightly, as the wind messed up his side-swept hair.
Dan, hot as he was and with his fringe sticking to his forehead, decided there was nothing else to lose at that point. He rolled down his window as well, and stuck his hand out. The wind thrashed at his meticulously styled hair, but he couldn't have cared less. His mum didn’t scold him for leaning out of the window, like she did when he was younger. Truthfully, she was happy that he was able to stomach looking out of the window at all, let alone actively facing the world out of it and saying catch me if you can.
Dan and Phil played a game of catching each other’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. Ann shook her head, eyes creasing at the corners. All the while, the world passed them by in streaks of blue and green and white and grey. The sun blazed on, seeming too hot and bright and wonderful to be in England, let alone Dan's little life in Winnersh.
Phil had brought the light with him.
In that moment, Dan could’ve sworn, nothing else mattered.