The sunlight poured in from the windows, illuminating the room in a warm shade of yellow. There were still a couple hours until sunset, and they needed all the light they could get. They didn’t have a deadline, but they would rather get as much done as possible sooner rather than later, so they’re grateful for being early birds.

Dan dips his roller into the periwinkle paint, gets rid of the excess, and then presses it to the wall and moves in strides. He hummed a song under his breath, one he couldn’t remember anything but the tune, but it didn’t matter because that was all he needed.

Phil snuck up behind Dan and whirled him around, tipping his chin up to kiss him briefly. He smiled mischievously, gesturing behind him at the glasses he brought in with him. “Thirsty?”

Dan’s body was on fire, tingles shooting through his body. Their spark, he thinks, will never go out. Not when Phil looks at him like that.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck and kissed him, deeper than before. Phil pulled away, only briefly, to smile at his boyfriend, “What happened to ‘hurry up and grab a brush because the sun’s setting’?”

“Oh, am I less appealing than paint now?” Dan teased back, playing with Phil’s shirt collar, humming softly when Phil’s hands began to roam; down his arms, his waist, over his back, his stomach. He stopped underneath Dan’s belly button, and Dan let out a soft gasp as Phil rested his hands on his hips.

This was the fire he was talking about. He loved it, loves Phil, more than anything else.

Phil finally kissed him again, and they backed up against the freshly-painted wall, Dan swearing against his boyfriend’s lips with a laugh. As Dan’s head tipped backward while he laughs, Phil began pressing light kisses along his jaw, “Phil! Phil, you can’t start this and not finish it. You’re leaving soon, I—!”

But his hands betrayed his words—of course they did, they always do—soft little gasps escaping his lips as Phil’s teeth began gently scraping along the expanse of his neck, and the brunet’s fingers bit into the other’s shoulders.

Dan’s knees feel so weak but in the best way. He knew he was going to have marks on his neck for people to stare at and know what happened but he loved that. He wanted people to know he’s Phil’s and vice versa. His hands roamed in Phil’s hair as another mark is made, right above his collarbone; there was no way he’d be able to focus on painting now—

Out of somewhat nowhere, the doorbell rang and they tore apart. Dan’s clothes were wrinkled and Phil’s hair was messy, evidence as to what was basically about to happen in the unfinished room.

“I’m coming!” Phil yelled, hoping they heard him. He swung his gaze to Dan, gave him one last kiss before heading downstairs to answer the door. Dan put his paint roller down and followed, standing by the fridge as Phil opened the door.

Jimmy stood on the other side, smiling as soon as his eyes came upon Phil. He and Dan weren’t enemies, or friends, or even really acquaintances, if you thought about it—they simply got along for Phil, since that their common ground.

“Hey, Lester! Happy birthday, dude.” Jimmy grinned and Phil stepped back to let him in. He hooked an arm around Dan’s waist and rubbed his thumb on his side. “Did you shower yet?”

“Yeah,” Phil laughed, and Dan allowed himself to softly rest his forehead against Phil’s shoulder, briefly, before picking his head up and watching as Phil pulled on his shoes and laced them up while he twirled the car keys around his fingers. Once the elder of them stood up straight, he tossed him the keys.

“You promise not to drive if you’re drunk? If you need someone to drive you guys home, call me. Jimmy, please keep him safe.” Dan swallowed, looking between them. Phil smiled playfully and chuckled.

“Okay, mom,” he teased, “What, you don’t trust me?”

Dan gave him a look.

“I’m kidding.” Phil’s smile turned apologetic. “I promise to call you if I need anything. I’ll call you when I get there, and I’ll come to bed when I get here. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

Dan made another face; this one strained, nervous. Phil stepped over to him and grasped his shoulder, leaning down to give him a kiss.

“I’ll see you later tonight. I promise.” He murmured, pressing a single kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead.

Jimmy and Phil leave, and Phil neglects his keys on the counter in favor of taking Jimmy’s car together. They’re off about five minutes later, leaving Dan in the kitchen doorway, paint splattered all over his apron and dried on his hands.

He was nervous, to say the least.

Hours passed and Dan only managed to focus on doing a little more of the room. He could picture it in his head, though; this room would be a nursery for when they decided to adopt when they were ready to take on another chapter of their life.

A crib in the corner with a mobile above it, a toy chest, some books and maybe an art table somewhere. It would be perfect; they’d have a little life to take care of, a baby girl or boy to raise (Phil was hoping for a girl, and Dan was kind of swinging back and forth) and they could watch their baby grow into a happy person with all these opportunities and aspirations.

God, he couldn’t wait.

Dan retreated to bed early that night, laying there alone. He was nervous and he missed Phil. He just wanted him home.

Soon enough, he fell asleep while hugging Phil’s pillow to him. It wasn’t a good “replacement” but it was all he had.

The call came at 3:30 in the morning. Dan thought he was imagining it, the ringing sounding too close but also too far away. He wasn’t worried about it. Once it stopped, he sunk back into his pillow, and slowly began drifting again.

The landline started again, a cruel, obnoxious sound that Dan hated so much. He lifted his head, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. That’s when he realized the ringing wasn’t a dream. The landline was actually ringing, and it was in the middle of the night.

Phil.

Dan scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping when the blankets tangled around his feet. He shook them off and ran downstairs, nearly not making it to the kitchen fast enough. He grabbed the landline off the hook and pressed it to his ear.

“Hello?” His voice was shaking. How long had he been holding his breath? Was Phil alright? Was Jimmy alright? Was Phil—

“Dan?” Jimmy’s voice was hoarse like he hadn’t drunk any water in several days. He tried to swallow. “Dan, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you!” Dan nearly screamed, “Are you okay? Where’s Phil?”

“Dan, there was an accident. There was a drunk driver coming into our lane and we had to swerve to be out of its way. We had no other choice.” Jimmy’s voice was shaking, and Dan could tell he was crying. Dan’s eyes began to well up with tears and his throat started closing. It was hard to swallow. It was hard to breathe.

Dan was halfway down to his knees, trying so fucking hard to swallow, “Jimmy, where’s Phil?”

“We....crashed and Phil—Dan...Phil didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.”

Dan’s knees immediately gave out and he collapsed to a heap on the ground. It couldn’t be true, there was no way.

They had everything planned! They had a future! They were getting married in seven months, they had a plan! He wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be.

Suddenly, Dan was hyperventilating. He was struggling to take breaths or release them, his fingers tucked into a fist that he repeatedly slammed against the hardwood floor. He dropped the phone. His fingers ached, mocking the way his throat constricted whenever Jimmy’s words repeated in his head.

Phil didn’t make it. Phil didn’t make it. Phil didn’t make it.

Phil was dead, and without him, Dan might as well have been too.

❈ ❈ ❈

“The stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Sometimes you deal with multiple stages at once, and some take years to accept whatever they’re grieving.”

Dan shut his laptop and tossed it away from him. He rolled over on the couch and flipped the door off in annoyance when the bell rings, ignoring the muttering outside.

Soon enough, a knock came, and Dan ignored it like he had the rest of them. He only turned over to look at the door when he heard a familiar voice, “Dan? It’s Jimmy. I tried to call, but you wouldn’t pick up. I hope you’re not sleeping. Fuck, are you? I’ll come back later.”

Dan sighed and hopped off the couch, going to get the door. When it swung open, Jimmy was already halfway to his car, but he looked back at the sound. Dan looked at the ground. There were casseroles and pasta dishes and even some fruit, laid in front of his door. The paper must have published the incident.

“You can come in if you want to,” Dan said quietly, while he started picking up some of the food. Some of it had already started going bad, so Jimmy picked those dishes up, tossed them in the trashcan, and hoped nobody wanted their containers back. He promised to take out the trash so no animals make a mess, then turned to do it right away.

Dan watched the tall man turn around to go back out. Jimmy’s platinum blonde hair shone in the sunlight, contrasting his dark clothes. He grabbed the bag out, tied it up, and put it in his trunk. “I’ll be right back, okay? Go in and put those dishes in the sink.”

Dan stood in the doorway as Jimmy disappeared down the road, watching him go. He stood there for another beat, two, and then spun on his heel and closed the door, leaving the dishes outside. He got back into his spot, covering himself with a blanket and took a deep breath. 

Tears began wetting his cheeks, his chest aching as his fingers curled into his sweater. He hadn’t changed out of the clothes he was in when the call came. He couldn’t go upstairs, especially not in their bedroom, and especially not in the nursery. He couldn’t bear to see their future becoming their past. 


Jimmy stays true to his word, coming back after some time. He knocked on the door again, then lets himself in, carrying some of the dishes that were outside. He went back and forth from the kitchen to the front door twice before they’re all in and then he sat on the arm of the couch. “Dan, I know it’s been hard for you—”

Angry flooded Dan’s veins suddenly. He sat up halfway and glared at Jimmy, “Hard for me? Yeah, Jimmy, it’s been ‘hard for me’. I lost my fucking boyfriend last Wednesday to an idiot driving drunk on the wrong side of the fucking road. So yeah, Jimmy, it has been. And I’ll never get over it.”

Jimmy raised his hands in defense, “You lost your boyfriend and I lost my best friend. I get it. I’m grieving too, Dan—”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” Dan interrupted him. The tears were coming back, spilling down his cheeks, hot and angry. “You didn’t lose someone you were going to spend the rest of your life with. We had plans, Jimmy. We were going to adopt a baby soon. We were going to raise a family in this run-down house after fixing it up. The paint you see on my clothes? It’s from trying to finish up our future kid’s room. We were painting it periwinkle. Obviously, that was Phil’s choice. It’s his mum’s favourite colour, so I went with it for her.”

Dan was choking on his words, wiping his cheeks with his sweater sleeves. His face was getting blotchy and skin becoming sticky with tears, but he didn’t care. His heart was hurting. He was in pain and it was relentless. 

“Why’d we let him go, Jimmy? He had so much stuff he wanted to do. He wanted to become a dad so fucking bad, and now he’ll never be able to.” Dan began hitting the sofa, his lap, anything that was close enough to him, sobbing harder. 

Jimmy pulled him closer into a hug and rubbed his back. He allowed the brunet to sob into his shoulder until he slowly fell asleep in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, Dan. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”