Those Who Trust (Phan)

Part 7

Phil knew all too well what a person looked like that hadn't slept for days, and Dan Howell fit those criteria. There were giant bags prominent under his eyes in a dark shade of blue. He drank too much coffee and his coordination was poorly. His concentration span wasn't longer than a few minutes. He was constantly yawning and his eyelids drooped often, his head would fall to the side and seconds later it would shoot up again and his eyes would open as if he had never nearly fallen asleep. It was Friday, only three days after Dan had moved in with him and Phil suspected that the young man had not slept more than eight hours between then and now by the looks of it. He had expressed his worry about the situation to PJ on the phone, but Dan's friend also had no idea on what to do about the situation. All they both knew was that Dan did not sleep and Phil suspected that it was his fault.

He wasn't stupid. Phil noticed the way Dan would keep his distance, would flinch away from accidental touches and always stay close to the nearest door, always make sure that Phil was not in between the only exit out of the room and him. He'd never look him in the eyes, not even when they had one of their rare conversations, eyes only ever focusing on his forehead or nose. PJ had told him once already about Dan having a bad past with dominants and Dan's confession about the drugs he was slipped once made Phil think that the situation was far more serious than he had first expected, but still he couldn't understand Dan's extreme behaviour whenever they were together. It wasn't like there was any sort of dynamic between them. They were neither dominant nor submissive when they were around each other, just two guys living in a flat with one another. However, it seemed like that concept was hard to grasp for Dan.

Phil stood in front of his closet, contemplating what he was going to wear to the Dungeon tonight. He could hear the tinkling sounds of the piano being played through the wall and couldn't help but smile. Sure, his flat mate was not really talk-active and he didn't see him a lot, but knowing that there was at least another presence within the same walls as him was a comforting feeling.

Ready to go out, Phil gently knocked on Dan's door. The soft sounds of the piano being played stopped and a small voice from inside told him to open the door.

Dan was hunched over the old brown piano, his fingers still lingering over the keys. The room was softly illuminated by the remaining rays of sun on a hot late August evening.

"I just wanted you to know that I'll be going out tonight. I don't know what time I'll be back, but it's probably going to be late. Will you be okay on your own?"

Dan nodded. "I'm twenty-one, you know. I'm sure I'll be fine on my own for a few hours."

Phil pretended not to have heard the relief in those words.
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Dan listened to the key turning in the entrance door, the sign that he was finally alone for the next few hours, and his shoulders slumped in relief. He didn't spare a second to quickly strip out of his jeans and t-shirt and into his pyjamas instead and crawled under his soft duvet with sleep-heavy eyes. His alarm clock would ring in four hours, hopefully before Phil was back.
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Phil returned home at three a.m., tired and exhausted and not too happy. Many submissives had asked for a scene with him tonight, but he had refused them all, apologizing and explaining that he wasn't in the best mood and might not be able to give them what they deserved. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he felt drained and normally he would recharge his batteries at the club, but for some reason it had felt wrong tonight.

So he had dragged himself home with only his own sweat clinging to his skin for the first time in a while. The hallway was dark but few the slit between the door to Dan's room and the floor, Phil could still see light shining through. He decided to inform Dan of his return and knocked against the wood gently, but got no reply.