A Procrastinator Fears the Future (Dan Howell/danisnotonfire fanfic 3)

Part 4 - The Date Night

"Sweet or savoury?"

"Not sure..."

"Pancakes or waffles?"

"Nah."

"Toast or fruit or yoghurt or cereal?"

"Do they have that cereal thing with the chocolate and strawberry bits?"

"You mean that cereal which I literally put a label on saying 'Dan's Cereal' and yet it's still somehow always gone before I can eat it?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I'll check."

Dan and I lay side by side in our hotel room's king size bed. I was curled up against him, my leg slung over his legs as I clung to him like a baby monkey. Dan had one arm around my shoulders, the other hand occupied by the breakfast menu. His brow was low as he searched through the cereal selection for me. I didn't even have my glasses on yet, my vision near non-existent now. So Dan was helping with breakfast as we lazily reclined in our cloud-soft bed as the digital clock at the bottom corner of the TV screen drew closer towards noon.

Dan clicked his tongue. "They have something like it, their 'designer' mix and match cereal bar could make it from scratch for just an extra billion pounds."

I chewed my lip. "Hm, I think we have a few billion to spare, don't we?"

Dan chuckled. "Of course. So, tea and cereal?"

"And mango."

"And mango." Dan paused to lean away from me and pick up the room's phone to order our room service breakfast. I fell with him, falling behind his back as I stubbornly tried to keep hold of him. Dan only let out a little huff of laughter.

Once he'd finished the call, Dan didn't move and let me curl up around his waist. He stroked my leg absent mindedly. "This is the closest to breakfast in bed I can get you whilst we're here, I'm afraid," he mused. His fingers moved up and down my leg, down then up, tickling me softly.

"Just don't make me leave this bed," I grumbled.

"You know I can't do that."

I pouted into Dan's hip. I knew full well that we'd have to leave soon enough. We had train tickets booked for tomorrow morning to take us to York, where we'd spend the next week with my parents. Dan had met them before. At various points of the year, for birthdays and Christmas and for other sporadic visits at other times, I'd go and visit my parents up North. Dan often came with me now, but we'd never stayed there for a whole week. Very quickly, our short romantic getaway had transformed into a 'let-Mia-see-her-family' visit.

But tonight, there was an outside theatre screening of 'Princess Mononoke' with two tickets reserved by a certain Howell, after I'd been hinting at wanting to go to an outdoor theatre for the past few months and had found the showing. He'd insisted we go.

"One of us'll have to let the room service person in," Dan pointed out. "Or intercept them and bring the breakfast in themselves."

"The second one," I grumbled again as he pulled away from me to grab his tracksuit bottoms from the floor and then proceeded to dress.

I rolled over and slumped back into the sheets. My eyes closed of their own accord as I listened to Dan dressing in something acceptable to open the hotel room door in. I could hear the gentle shift of his t-shirt fabric as he tugged it sharply over his head, followed by the rustling of his hair as he attempted to make it lie flat. He padded around the room, before perching on the edge of the bed and causing the mattress to dip down and bounce a little as he put his socks on. It was comforting, hearing him go about his routine. It was an innocent comfort to know that he was there, like it was safe for me to doze off again.