Phansexual (phanfiction)

Nineteen

"Hmph," Dan mumbled, shifting his position and accidentally butting Phil in the ribs with his shoulder.

"Oomph!" Phil gasped, clutching where Dan impacted him. "You're shoulder is pointy."

Dan laughed groggily, "Whoops, sorry, Philly," He didn't sit up, but opened his big brown eyes, slightly hazed with tiredness, and looked up at him.
"Is this our stop?"

Phil nodded and brushed through Dan's curls with his fingers.

"No," Dan whined playfully, "That feels too good, you're going to make me sleepy again."

Phil stuck his tongue out at him and continued to run his hand through Dan's messy rug of hair.

The load speaker beeped and a fuzzy voice announced that the doors would be opening and that it was now safe to exit the car.

"Ready to go?" Phil asked, gently nudging Dan into a full sitting position.

"Yup," Dan said, although he didn't seem so sure.

"You okay?" Phil's eyebrows furrowed in concern and he wound an arm around Dan's waist to steady him as they walked out the train door.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Dan assured him, "Just... just really nervous."

Phil nodded understandingly and pecked his cheek. "It's okay. I get it. But let me tell you this: You're going to be a great dad. The best."

Dan still looked unsure, but smiled anyway.

"You probably won't even need me," Phil added, a bit sadder than he intended.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dan asked him, slowing down the pace of their walk and turning more to face Phil.

"No, nothing, never mind, it was nothing, just me being stupid," Phil dismissed frantically, trying to save face.

"No. Phil, this isn't nothing." Dan argued, stopping walking completely. "What you mean 'I won't need you'? Phil, without you I don't know where I would be. Honestly. I might've become a lawyer (a crappy one at that) or a hobo, I'd be definitely lonely, and who knows? Maybe I'd even be six feet under. You saved me, Phil Howlter. You believed in me when no one else did and I will always love and need you. I promise."

Phil felt a small smile creep onto his face. "I love you." He said, leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you, too." Dan leant in to meet him but stopped merely centimeters away from Phil's lips. "Please promise me you understand how much I love you, kitten," he whispered. "I swear to god I would be lost without you. I'd choose you over anyone and everyone else. Every time. Always."

Phil felt his cheeks going pink. Even though this was his husband and they'd already said this kind of stuff to each other about a billion times before, a man declaring his undying love for him was still pretty amazing. It filled his stomach with butterflies and his mind with fluff.

Every thought he had seemed to be slowed down, muffled by the cotton balls filling his brain.

Without Phil even realizing it, Dan kissed him. A long, slow, meaningful kiss that Phil somehow both felt and didn't feel at the same time.

He was distracted. Lost in thought. Lost in Dan's scent. Lost in the fact that Dan's hands were on his hips. Lost.

"You know what, Dan Howlter?" Phil smirked once they'd pulled apart. "I think I'm still just as in love with you as the day we got together. Probably more. But you still give me butterflies in my stomach and make me nervous when we kiss -- but like a good kind of nervous, like an I can't wait kind of nervous -- I still blush when you compliment me.
Basically what I'm trying to say is: I love you, you dork. I always have loved you. I always will love you. And nothing can change that. We could be in our eighties, sitting in creaky old rocking chairs on our porch and playing a boring game of bridge and I will still feel my heart soar in my chest when you kiss me."