oops! ➸ one-shots

i've never been this far from home

It wasn't unusual for Dan to pace around in front of Phil's door at three in the morning, gripping the hair at the base of his neck as he contemplated what the outcomes would be if he just snuck into Phil's bed and laid his head on the drowsy older boy's chest. There was a distinct longing for Dan to have his face pressed up against Phil's familiar skin, to inhale the same cologne that Phil'd been wearing for the past three years (because Dan said he loved it on the first day they met).

Alas, Phil would probably kick Dan out the moment he walked through the doorway. At least, that's what Dan figured the most plausible outcome. He didn't know that Phil sat awake in his bed, listening to Dan's soft footsteps outside his door. He didn't know that Phil wondered what would happen if he emerged from the door and took Dan's hand to lead him back into the warmth of his bed. He didn't know that Phil thought Dan would yell at him if he did so.

So, just as he had every night for the past month, Dan padded back into his own room and stared up at the ceiling until the sun lit up the darkness.

Those were the early days after Dan snapped, anyway. Eventually, Phil would hear the footsteps outside his bedroom and think, "He's at it, again?" Eventually, Dan would just be walking back and forth to get a glass of water, not even sparing a glance at Phil's closed door. Eventually, Dan wouldn't come out at all because he knew that Phil had brought someone home.

And it hurt. It hurt to hear through the thin walls someone filling the space Dan had once occupied so happily. The pain itself wasn't stinging or piercing; a dull ache never left Dan's chest. He hadn't meant to push Phil this far away. His intention was never set for it to go this far. He thought their "break" would just be a week long time to settle. But, then it became a month, and then two, and then five. And then Phil brought people home.

Dan couldn't force himself to go out on dates, let alone bring someone home. Of course, he'd never talked to Phil about how he was feeling, so Phil had every right to assume that when Dan went out late at night he was hooking up. On the contrary, Dan just went out to get drunk and numb the importunate ache in his chest for a few hours.

There was really only one event that caused Dan to lose all hope of reconciliation. He had been walking to the kitchen to make himself some dinner when Phil turned a sharp corner and they ran into each other. Dan's heart dropped when he didn't smell the comforting, familiar scent of Phil's cologne. Phil had changed his fucking cologne. Dan tucked his chin into his own chest to hide the redness of his face and proceeded to the kitchen without a word spoken to Phil.

Easily reduced to crying, Dan was not surprised whatsoever when he pulled out his phone and a tear immediately splashed onto the screen. He hastily wiped it off before opening Twitter and tweeting "how do i wash it all away?".

Inevitably causing a shit-storm, Dan turned off his phone and sunk onto the floor, pressing his face into his knees. He knew Phil wouldn't come into the kitchen while Dan occupied the room, so he paid no effort in hiding his sobbing. Phil had probably already left the apartment, unaware of the indirect and the blubbering mess in the kitchen.

After some time, Dan lifted himself back up to his feet and opened the fridge. All his movements seemed to be slowed, as if he were walking through water. He was numb, but he continued to carry on without thinking. He couldn't concentrate on his cooking, but somehow he got it done. He didn't remember eating, but he found himself washing the plate and setting it off to the side to dry. He didn't quite realize that he'd been sitting in the shower for two hours, but the searing water had painted his skin red. And he definitely didn't mean to sneak into Phil's room and steal his old bottle of cologne, but as he inhaled the scent he had sprayed all over his sheets, he didn't regret it too much.