parent!phan one shots

like father, like son

parent!phan series we've started ?? we'll definitely be using these smol kiddos more cause kas and i both lOve them already snbwis

trigger warnings: a bit of yelling, lil bit of crying, anger, in depth mental health discussions/in depth mental health descriptions, happy ending, swearing ?
//8,250 words
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The moment Dan woke up, he knew the day was going to be a write-off. His head was pounding, and it was way too much effort to open his eyes, let alone to sit up. His stomach churned. He was almost glad he hadn't woken up next to Phil this morning - he must've been awake with the kids already. This way, he wouldn't have to stress Phil out already so early..

Dan could hear them in the living room - Phil seemed to be cooking, and occasionally there would be a shout from Connor or a groan from Noah. He wanted to get out of bed and join them, but his legs felt like lead and every time he decided to move he just wanted to collapse. Had he even opened his eyes yet? He couldn't remember. He didn't even have enough strength to check the time on his phone. It was all just too much for him, already, and he hated himself for it. Why /today/, of all days? They had plans - Phil had wanted to take them out for dinner, to celebrate Connor's birthday, and he'd had so many ideas for celebrations they could have, but it had all been ruined.

Someone was coming down the hallway towards the bedroom, and Dan sunk further beneath the duvet, half-hoping he could simply disappear. On days like this, it didn't matter whether it was Connor, with all the excitement of a nine-year-old, or Phil, with his calm demeanor and smile, who was coming to wake him - he still couldn't face it.

"Dan," Phil knocked on the door, calling out his name. It was half-past eleven, how was Dan /still/ asleep? Dan kept his eyes shut. It wasn't as if he was pretending to be asleep, he just didn't /want/ to answer, or speak, or even be awake. He just wanted to sleep. "Dan?" Phil called again, a bit louder. He twisted the door handle, gently pushing it open, letting light from the hall fall over the room.

"Dan, you've gotta wake up," Phil strode into the room, a bright smile on his face. Not like Dan could see it, but still. He lay on the bed, sure not to move a single muscle, eyes less closed and more squeezed shut. Maybe Phil would get the hint and leave him alone. "It's Connor's birthday, you have to get up."

Dan mustered up all the energy he had in his body to try and reply. "Can't." It was good enough.

"Can't?" Phil repeated. "You can't what? You can't get up? Are you ill?" He walked forwards, sitting delicately on the side of their bed, putting a hand on Dan's forehead and brushing his hair back. His forehead wasn't particularity warm so he must not have had a fever. A look of realisation dawned over his face. "Oh, Dan. One of /those/ days?"

"M'sorry," Dan moaned, not bothering to acknowledge Phil's touch on his forehead.

"Don't be sorry," Phil said, leaning down and kissing Dan's cheek gently. He looked down, already feeling guilty.

"S'his birthday," Dan pointed out, trying to avoid Phil's kiss. He felt as if he was ruining his son's birthday already - how was he deserving of Phil kissing him?

"You didn't choose for this to happen today. We can do celebrations tomorrow, okay?" Ugh, tomorrow. Dan didn't want to think of five minutes from now, nevermind /tomorrow/.

Dan's intense feelings of guilt immediately doubled - his son couldn't celebrate his birthday on the actual day all because of him. Connor, who seemed to be tired of spending time with his brother downstairs, came running through the door of their bedroom, a wide smile on his face.

"Dad!" he called, taking a jump and landing on the bed, crushing Dan's feet. "Dad! I'm nine now! And I've got a scooter and Noah got me a really good book that I just started reading and Papa said we can go out for dinner and maybe I can have some friends round tomorrow!"