Two. (Phan)

4. Phil

He threw a paper airplane at Dans head and it hit him in the temple.

"What's this about?" He chuckled, picking up the airplane, brushing a hand over where it hit him.

Phil took off his jacket and pulled up to a mirror, taking out his contacts and pushed up his fringe, combing through his black ruff.

"It's an entire page full of ideas we brainstormed, all for the new book."

Dan grinned up at him and carefully unfolded the airplane, smoothing out the creases.

He held up the page to Phil.

The page was empty.

"Still stumped then?" Dan folded the page into squares and set it under his mug of tea. Phil watched him chew his lip as his hands absent mindedly played over the keys, an unrecognizable rythme.

He did that a lot when he was thinking.

"Absolute nill." Phil put his contacts back into the case, the world becoming blurry.

"It's like every ideas been tampered with inside my head and no i can't even get out a sentence."

He turned to face Dan, or, what he thought was Dan. He was just a black fuzzy mass now. He cautiously made his way to the couch, trying to pay attention to anything he might trip over. Well, the word cautious wasn't in Phils dictionary and he tripped on the biggest obstacle in his way. As he stumbled over the coffee table and reached for something to hold onto, a handle caught hold of his waist and pulled him upright.

The hand was joined by another on his shoulder as they guided him to the sofa.

The hands, Dan Howells hands, then gently placed his glasses onto his face, paying attention to not poke him in the eye.

"Thanks" Phil mumbled.

" I think you need to take a break. You've had, what, three global best-sellers in four years, plus all that published poetry. You're over working."

"I can't just stop writing, its my hobby, and that's pretty rich coming from you. How many gigs have you booked this week?"

Dan let his head hang as he rubbed his eyes. He moved the piano off his lap and stretched out his legs.

"I've only booked a play intermission in leeds for in a couple of weeks, but i have no absolutely no idea what i'm gonna play. I've been half out here with this piano and half in my room with the bigger one working my fingers stupid. I'm in the same boat as you are, man. Nothings coming to me."

Phil sighed as he looked over the balcony. The sun set a gleam back into the room.

He moved beside Dan and pulled to piano back onto Dans lap. He crossed his legs and undid the top buttons on the collar of his shirt. He didn't do this quite as often anymore, but it was a rough day and they both needed to comfort.

"Close your eyes."

Dan looked over, the corner of his lips turning up and closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.

Phil looked at the balcony where the sun was coming in.

Dans hands hovered over the keys.

Phil took another big breath. He spoke in a soft voice.

"Think of a glass reflection. The way the sun is perceived at different angles of the day. Every second of the day, condensed into one moment. Shining into a room, the darkness and the light. The shadows it makes."

He stopped, giving Dan a minute to process this thought, before his hands slowly, the gradually trying out keys together, replaying them multiple times before scrapping it, sometimes writing things down. Ten minutes later he lifted his fingers and closed his eyes, his head turned to Phil, his eyes fluttering shut again.

"Go on."

"Now focus. Focus on the darkness. The sun shines in and illuminates something, only to move on and to leave that thing in dim blurry dark shapes. The sun moves on. The room slowly looses the bright glow."

Dans fingers moved over the keys again. Slower and softer he playes, trying to mirror what phil was saying made him feel. Trying to say it in a song.

Ten more minutes passed, Dans fingers hovered.

"Now think of the sun itself. Not a giant ball of gas in outer space, but what it represents. What it means. What it is."

It took them a few hours, but Phil didn't mind. Just thinking, hearing piano, being with Dan, he could spend many hours like these.

He was still looking out the window at the sun now setting, but he could feel Dans head falling sideways on his shoulder and his big sigh of exhaustion.

He reached up with one and and patted Dans cheek, not taking his eyes off the sunset.

"You should try get some sleep tonight. I'll make up some food then you should head in early."

Dan chuckled silently on his shoulder. Not a real laugh, but a tired sort of laugh where your only laughing cause you're relieved to be working and too exhausted to process anything.

Dan stretched out beside him, making sure to reach his arms right in front of Phil, purposefully hitting him in the face.

"Thanks mom, i'll take you up on that offer. Where would i be without you?"

"Probably in a tight suit somewhere taking notes in a court."

He turned his head away from the sunset, and was taken aback by the look Dan was giving him, possibly more breath taking then the sight at the window.

Their friends always joked about the way Dan looked at Phil when he wasn't looking, but they always laughed it off and never took it seriously.

Was this it?

The way Dans eyes looked sad yet at ease, almost adoration or longing in his face.

He was leaning back against the sofa, his head turned to Phil, obviously not meant to be seen.

And his smile.

The one he only used when something amazing had happened, like when Phul bought him a piano or when they officially moved into the London apartment or when he was asked to play his first solo gig.

Whenever he smiled like that, Phil swore a little piece of Dan was put back together.

Whenever he smiled like that, he was happy to be alive.

So why was he smiling like that now?

This wasn't anything special. Was it the joke about Dan being in court if it wasn't for him?

Probably not, but it wasn't wrong.

Dan knew all his life he was a gifted musician, but from lack of support, self-esteem, and an all around distrust and wariness of people, he gave up his passion, turning to the easiest, most sensible career he could think of.

A lawer.

Dan hated it. It took a year of knowing Phil for him to accept this, and for him to realise people cared what he did, and he finally dropped out and followed his dream.

He smiled like that when he realised his dream.

This wasn't anything special.

Phil wasn't anything special.

Not even a bit amazing.

He played it cool when Dan realized he was looking, and turned the rare smile into a fake laugh, making it clear to Phil that that smile and those eyes weren't meant to be seen.

he thought about the look when he went to the kitchen to make dinner, gripping Dans thigh to help hoist himself off the couch.

He thought about the look when Dans breath hitched at Phils simplest touch, and the breathy nervous laugh that followed Phil out of the room.

He could hear the piano echoing throughout the house, an unrecognisable rhythm played only when Dan was thinking.

Phul wondered if he was thinking about the look, too.