headlights // phan au

three

burnt sienna ; one minute before

he was in bed when it happened. he was shrouded in late night thoughts and questionable decisions, a heavy feeling in the back of his head as the moon watched carefully outside his window. the tree outside was delicately yapping every few seconds, a soft click to interrupt the otherwise silence.

haven't you taken enough from me? won't you torture someone else's sleep?

it plays softly through the earbuds wrapped around dan's fingers loosely before going into his ears. his eyes are fixated on a rough path above his bed, a single shoe print from a certain person scaring him a few years back, his shoe flying into the ceiling.

they both prayed dan's mom didn't hear (she did) and make them leave for the house for a few hours to waste energy (she did).

11:59.

the end of the first day spent as an adult, and he smells like sweat and whiskey. there's wet eyes pressed against bare forearms and cold pillows, a silly smile on his face and a heavy pounding in his head.

"you look really guilty."

chills is the only way to describe it, the cold feeling racking through his body quickly. his back feels stiff, and his head feels like it's going to fall right off his shoulders. fear isn't the word- it's more so surprise.

but he's there, back pressed against the dresser, arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his face illuminated by the moon through the now-slightly open window.

"and you're not?" that's all dan can manage, his earbuds and phone hitting the wall before slipping down between it and his bed as he rips them off. he's bewildered, completely.

"i've seen you drunk before, howell. at least a little tipsy. not remember when your family got stuck, i had to literally hold you back from stumbling around by the old well? you're such a lightweight."

fuck, donnie.

"why are you here?"

"i can't stop by to introduce you to your second day of adulthood? i'm hurt, dan. thought good old 'donnie' would be allowed into your bedroom- or is that just elisabeth?"

"you don't even show up to your own boyfriend'a  birthday parties from what i've heard."

"ex-boyfriend."

"looks like you really can't hold any type of emotional bond with anyone for over three months."

that was not the right thing to say, at all. the already-present tension only gets thicker, a small chuckle from the boy, dan closing his eyes as he hears the footsteps approaching his bed. tequila opens your lips at all the wrong times.

there's fingertips clutching his wrist tightly, he knows that. there's a mouth right by his ear, a knee pressed against his hip, the other on the side of that leg, pushing it down into the bed.

"at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not."

"how do you want me to prove that?"

"follow me, howell."

—

it's a rather noticeable car, to say the least. donnie's fingers brush against dan's palm, a pair of keys hitting the top of his fingers.

"you in or out?"

"why the hell would-"

there's a hand against dan's mouth, another body pinning him against the side of the car, keys abandoned on the ground.

"do you want to do nothing before this summer is over- stay in this town until you're finally gone? you're just gonna wait patiently until you leave the rest of us here to die? because bullshit, dan, i know you're intrigued, i know you want out of this town as soon as possible. give me four weeks."

the hand is removed from dan's mouth, eyes staring into his. they're not full of anger, almost begging.

"two weeks."

"three and a half."

"three- that's as far as i'll go. but the moment i want to go home, we're turning around. two- i'm not saying anything i don't want to. three- you're not going to do any of the shit you didn't tonight again. fourth- no one that was with you that day comes near me, near us, in any circumstances."

there's just a nod as donnie motions back up to dan's room for him to pack a bag. dan can already feel the gravity of the situation hitting him, the ghost fingertips pressing against his ribs. donnie isn't harsh or brutal, he's just physical, but he doesn't actually hurt people.

dan knows that more than anyone.

"i have one condition, dan."

"what?"

"call me by my name- otherwise you're not going to move on from that day."

"only if you explain what happened that day."

"not today- but i will. promise."

"i'm trusting you, phil."

"i know dan, i know."