pretend (phan)

eighteen

As soon as Phil's car pulled up in the driveway, Dan swung open his front door and was running. He was pissed at Phil, furious, but right now he had to hug him if Phil decided it'd be the last time.

He hurried down the stairs and Phil pushed open his car door, stepping out.

"You came back!" Dan yelled, and their bodies clashed and arms wrapped around each other. Phil instantly hugged him back and Dan held him close, their figures closely pressed together.

"I'm so sorry," Phil murmured, and then he was sobbing. Full on crying in Dan's arms, finally letting every emotion he had been holding back out.

He hadn't cried this hard in years, as he was always trying to stay strong, but he knew with Dan's arms around him, if he broke- Dan's grip would hold his pieces together.

"Shall we go inside," Dan spoke softly, cautious with his crying partner. He led Phil inside and once the door was shut, Phil was hugging him again. Dan felt his shoulder slowly soak with the other man's tears.

"I treated you so poorly and I hate myself," Phil sniffled. "I couldn't do it, I couldn't leave you- I tried to tell myself that we'd be a family again but you were right and I'm so sorry. I said so many hurtful things, I had you convinced I wanted a divorce when it was the opposite."

"It's quite alright, Phil. They are your parents, I understand that you crave an improved relationship with them. But some people don't deserve a second chance, no matter how much they once meant to you."

"I don't deserve a second chance. Not after even hesitating at the thought of leaving you. I love you, and I'm faithfully married to you. I don't plan on leaving and I don't know why I thought I could."

"You weren't thinking, that's all," Dan tried to reason with him, pulling away to reach out and wipe Phil's tear-streaked cheeks. "But you're back now, that's all that matters."

Phil nodded, leaning against Dan's touch but avoiding his gaze.

"For once in my life, I wished it wasn't high hopes. I wished it wasn't a false alarm. But they don't love me. They never will again, if they ever did at that."

"I love you," Dan said, tilting Phil's head to look at him. He didn't know what else to say. He just wanted Phil to know how he felt. "I really do. I love you, regardless of all that's occurred."

"But I'm a mess."

"You're a beautiful mess then. And we'll clean it up together. We are going to be okay, my love."

Phil actually smiled at that, his eyes red once he finally looked over at his husband.

"I'm still never going to forgive myself for the things I did to you. Especially how poor the timing was- right after you're assaulted. I should've been there for you."

"Phil. . ."

"They hurt you. You still have bruises. You still have bandages. And I wanna replace all of that with love and affection."

"Then do it," Dan breathed out, their eyes boring into each other's. "Replace their punches with your soft fingertips. Replace my sobs with your kissable lips. Replace all the pain they caused, and make it into something else."

Phil exhaled shakily, as he placed his hand on Dan's jawline. He missed him so much, missed feeling the way Dan's head would instinctively lean against his touch.

"I won't leave you again."

Daniel simply nodded, a soft smile on his lips as he leaned forward. Their mouths met, but the realization of how much they missed this instantly made an impact, and the kiss was no longer slow.

Dan quickly reached out to clench his fists onto Phil's shirt, Phil gripping his hips tightly as they stumbled into the wall. Their lips only ever parted for a second, to take a breath, a quick glance at the other, before they were kissing again.

Dan wanted to keep kissing him until he forgot everything. And Phil seemed to want that too.

Dan pulled back to unbutton his own flannel, and once it was off, Phil's hands were on him- but in the purest way. He was tracing his fingers along freckles and the indent of his collarbones, admiring his husband's figure. Dan caught Phil smiling to himself as he checked him out, beginning to blush.

"You're so beautiful," Phil murmured, practically in a trance. "An untouched sheet of paper. A blank portrait on an easel, begging for color."

"Color me then. Color me with your kisses, trace me with your embraces. Let's be art together," Dan told him, panting.

Each kiss made him breathless, no matter how soft or hard it was. Phil just impacted him that way, but the suffocating feeling was a precious kind of a pain- a rare feeling that Dan felt so lucky to experience with someone like Phil.

This was all so new to Dan, but somehow felt like they had done all this before just because of how comfortable they were. Dan understood he could say or do anything, and Phil would never look at him different. Dan could be drunk crying over how pretty the sunset was one day, or ranting about how much he despises how everything has an end- yet Phil would still look at him with that same expression.

When Phil looked at him, it was as if Phil's eyes were the spotlight and Dan was the performer. Phil watched him, following him emotionally and making the scenery around him more beautiful just by being there.

The way Phil stared at him, spoke to him, held him- this was love. There was no rush, no tension, no indescribable anger. They knew when to apologize and knew when to just keep quiet.

They know how to love each other.

And that night, they made art together for the first time.

Colors had finally come onto Dan's blank portrait, and Phil was the artist responsible for it.

Phil had brought color to Dan's black and white life.