pretend (phan)

ten

"Happy birthday!"

Dan squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, annoyed from the rude awakening of Phil pouncing on him. He shoved Phil off and pulled the blankets over him, hiding his face under the pillows.

"Come on, princess, wake up! I brought you something!"

"Is it earplugs so I don't have to deal with your pestering?" Dan sarcastically responded, trying to ignore the way his cheeks heated up at the nickname.

"No, it's food."

Dan sat up, locking eyes with Phil who was standing over him with his hands behind his back.

"What is it?"

"You have to come and get it."

"Phil, that sounds oddly suggestive and-"

Phil ignored him, beginning to rush off backwards so the hidden food was still out of Dan's perspective. He left the room and Dan rolled his eyes, giving up on being moody and putting on proper clothing. Phil came up behind him and placed his hands over his eyes, moving him into the kitchen.

"Phil, if you walk me off a cliff-"

His husand then began singing Happy Birthday, stopping eventually and uncovering Dan's eyes. Dan opened them to see a homemade cake in front of him, one candle impaled in it.

"Make a wish."

"Phil. . ." Dan began, smiling at the nice gesture.

"I know it's not the prettiest cake, but it's something."

"It's great. Really. Thank you."

"Oh, just make a wish already," Phil giggled, waving him off. Dan obliged, leaning down and blowing out the candles. "What'd you wish for?"

"It's a secret."

Phil flashed him a coy smile. "Alright, well the ball is soon and your family will be there so put on something nice."

Dan simply waved him off, going to change. After he put on a tuxedo and tied on his mask, he checked himself out in the mirror before going to open the bathroom door until he peeked in and saw Phil wasn't done changing.

It wasn't like Dan was a voyeur, besides Phil wasn't completely naked. He had everything on but his shirt and mask, his back turned to Dan. Dan froze, lips parting as he let his eyes run over his husband. His backbones moved as his arms unfolded his shirt, head bowed down and biceps tensed.

Then Phil turned around. And Dan saw everything, scars and stitches littering his pale chest. Dan stepped back and Phil glared.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I was just-" Dan cut himself off.  He knew Phil wasn't mad at him for watching him change, it was because he saw the hidden scars. "What are those from?"

"Get out," Phil hissed, stomping forward and shutting the door. Dan leaned his head against the wood, sighing.

"Phil, I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity."

"Then what are the marks from?"

"People aren't very kind to the homeless. I've been beat up more than once and some of the wounds never completely faded. It's just a reminder of how bad I messed up and I hate it."