Chapter Text
“Oi Howell. No phones on the floor.”
Dan looks up. He hadn’t even noticed she was there, and she’s hard to miss with her two toned pastel pink and turquoise hair. He’s extra not-giving-a-shit today, apparently.
“Oh shut up,” he says, dropping his eyes back down to the text he’s just received.
“I’m technically your boss, asshole.”
“Go on then. Fire me.”
She chuckles. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Dan sighs. “Maybe? I dunno. I guess not.”
“So put your phone away and you won’t have to find out.”
“Why do you care?” he grumbles, shoving it back in his pocket.
“I don’t. It’s just fun to boss your around.”
He flips her off and she blows him a kiss. “Who was it?”
Dan shrugs, returning to the seemingly unending pile of clothes that need to be sorted and returned to their rightful places in the shop. “Who else?”
“What does old Philly boy want then?” She’s leaned against the wall, staring at her new manicure, not even pretending to do any actual work. He loves her for that.
Dan shakes his head fondly. “You’re nosy, you know that?”
“I’ve been told a time or two.”
“Anyway,” Dan says, leaning against said wall as well. “He was reminding me I haven’t paid my half of the rent yet.”
“Pfft. He has a proper job, make him pay for you.”
“He’s a PA, Bry. He’s basically a glorified lackey.”
“At the bleeding BBC,” she says.
“Hence the glorified. We’re fucking skint.”
She pushes off from the wall when a customer starts walking their way. “Guess I shouldn’t fire you after all then, eh?” she says, her voice hushed so the sour-faced middle aged woman approaching them with purpose can’t hear. “Topman bitch boy is better than unemployed.”
“Barely.”
He turns to look at her but she’s already scurrying away, leaving Dan to deal this woman’s angry glares on his own. He doesn’t know yet why she’s angry but it doesn’t much matter. He’s used to it. Half of his job description is to be an emotional punching bag.
Bryony finds him later when the coast is clear. She’s remarkably good at avoiding things she doesn’t want to do.
“You coming out later?” she asks.
He shrugs. “Probably not. Pretty tired.”
“Carrie will be there.” She says it like it should mean something to Dan, like it’s some kind of incentive.
“Who?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck’s sake, man. The girl I was talking to you about earlier.”
“Umm…”
She sighs. “You know you’re the shittest friend ever, right?”
“I do,” he agrees. “I do know this. But you love me anyway.”
“Remind me why, again?”
“I’ve never really been clear on that one, actually.”
She takes a quick look around before she punches him none too gently in the shoulder. “You can make it up to me by coming out tonight and meeting Carrie.” She winks. Bryony is nothing if not a spectacular wingwoman.
Even when Dan doesn’t particularly want one.
“You want me to waste money on drinks when I can barely afford rent just on the off chance of hooking up?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds about right, I guess.”
She grins. “So you’ll come?”
“Fine,” he says petulantly. She claps her hands triumphantly and he shakes his head at her. “I don’t understand why you’re so desperate for me to shag your friends.”
She punches him again. “Ow fuck. I almost broke my nail, you twat.”
He gives her a look, one that says you’re blinking mad, because that’s actually exactly what she is.
“I’m not,” she says. “I’m desperate for you to find a nice girl to date. Someone to look after you.”
“Wow. How very nineteenth century of you.”
“Oh piss off. You know what I mean.”
He laughs a little at the way she squints at her long, slightly claw-like sparkly nail to make sure it hasn’t been tainted in any way by his shoulder.
“I know what you mean,” he says. “And I also know it’s not going to happen. So as long as you’re not going to be cross if it turns into a one night stand thing—”
“You’re the worst. Why do I hang out with you?”
“I don’t know,” he says, and his voice comes out a little more dejected than he’d intended. “I don’t know why anyone does.”
She rolls her eyes. “No pity parties allowed.” She has to stand on her tippy toes, but she does it to fluff his curls. “You can bang my friends. We’re all feminists here. If they’re down, then who am I to get in the way?”
“I don’t have to go out,” he says, voice gone a bit softer. “You don’t have to keep trying to set me up.”
“It’s fine, Daniel. I want you to have companionship, be it for a real relationship or just for a night. It’s fine.”
“You make me sound like a sad, lost little puppy.”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Because that’s exactly what you are.”
-
He’s nowhere near drunk enough to excuse the way he’s fumbling to get his key into the lock. He still has full control of all his faculties, but there’s something about the way Carrie is clinging to him that has him distracted.
It’s going to be a fun night. Much to his surprise, he and Carrie had taken to each other right away, bonded over the ridiculousness of their overly-eager-to-play-matchmaker friend with the candy floss hair and a similar darkness in their senses of humour. Carrie had made it clear she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend and they hadn’t stopped talking since then.
It’s going to be a fun night, but that’s not the kind of distracted Dan feels as he fails to properly insert his key into the lock yet again. His mind is full of a million things, but casual sex with an attractive and wickedly funny woman surprisingly isn’t one of them. He wishes he’d stuck to his guns earlier, told Bryony he was too knackered to go out.
He really is tired. And maybe a little… sad.
Suddenly the door opens even though Dan’s managed to drop his keys onto the floor.
“Hey,” Dan says sheepishly as Phil smiles at them and steps aside to let them in. He’s got his mobile squashed between his ear and his shoulder.
“Hi guys,” Phil says.
“Phil this is Carrie. Carrie, my flatmate, Phil.” Dan does the perfunctory introductions as he works his shoes off.
“Nice to meet you,” Phil says brightly.
Dan sees Carrie smile at him. “You too, mate.”
“That Kath?” Dan asks, nodding at Phil’s phone.
Phil nods.
“Tell her I said hi.”
“She says hello and that she hopes you’re eating enough.”
Dan chuckles. “Such a mum.” He turns to Carrie. “Want a tour?”
“Nah,” she says. “I think I can see the whole flat from here.”
Phil laughs.
“Oi,” Dan says, but he’s a little impressed. It’s the kind of mildly smartass thing he might say.
“Well I won’t keep you.” Phil heads back towards the sofa in the lounge and shouts, “Have fun!” suggestively.
Dan glares at him, feeling a hint of heat in his cheeks as he leads Carrie to his bedroom. He’ll have to give Phil a shoulder shove for that one later.
“Phil seems cool,” Carrie says, closing the door behind her.
“Yeah, he’s the best.” Dan sits on his bed and Carrie follows, climbing up onto his lap and straddling his hips.
No wasting time, then. She runs her fingers through his hair and he puts his hands on her waist. Fun night, he tells himself. It’s going to be fun.
“Was he really talking to his mum?” She’s working open the buttons on his shirt slowly.
“Mhm. He talks to her like every day now, ever since… uh. Yeah.”
“Since what?”
“He kind of got… dumped, recently,” Dan says quietly. It feels like bad form to tell a girl he’s just met about his best mate’s personal life.
“Poor guy,” Carrie says softly, just before she drops her head down to plant a kiss on Dan’s neck.
“Let’s not talk about him right now?”
She pushes him down onto his back and pulls her shirt off. “Talk about who?”
-
Dan wakes with a start, heart pounding and sweat beading at his temples. He can’t even remember what he’d been dreaming about, all he knows is that it was awful and now he feels scared and shaky and sick to his stomach.
He rolls over and gets a mouthful of curly blonde hair.
Oh. Carrie. Right. That’s actually perfect. That’s the number one reason he’s ultimately glad he’d said yes to Bryony dragging him out to a club with bad music and overpriced drinks. He won’t admit it to her, but companionship is not a bad description of what he’s been after lately. At least when the sun has gone down.
He’ll be fine when the morning comes, but nights breed an aching kind of lonely hollow in his chest and his brain tortures him with dreams that have been getting worse and worse every night.
He scoots in a little closer and cuddles up against her back. From what he knows about her he’d reckon she’s not really a cuddler but she’s dead asleep and he’s not really touching her very much. He tilts his head up a little to smell her hair, to remind himself that he’s not alone.
It helps. He can feel her warmth right next to him and it’s just what he needs to push the cloying pain the dream left out enough to go back to sleep.
-
He still feels like death in the morning. Carrie looks like sunshine as Dan gives her a hug goodbye and watches her walk down the hallway to the lift. They don’t exchange numbers or promise to see each other again and that’s fine. That’s what they both wanted, and Dan knows if she hadn’t been there in the dead of night when his demons woke him up, he probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all.
And the sex was fine.
When he trudges into the kitchen Phil is there, showered and dressed and smelling like musky vanilla. He looks tired, too.
“Morning,” he says, handing a mug of coffee to Dan.
“Cheers.” He takes the coffee and wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic like a lifeline. “You look kinda beat.”
“Speak for yourself,” Phil says. “Good night?”
Dan shrugs. “It was fine.”
“Sounded like she had fun.” Phil smirks.
“Ugh,” Dan groans, suddenly remembering. “Shut up.”
“Thin walls, mate.”
“Did we keep you up?”
“Nah. Reckon I’d’ve been up anyway,” Phil says. He necks the rest of his coffee and plonks his mug down on the counter.
Dan frowns. “What’s that about?”
Phil shrugs, but his head tips down like he’s trying to avoid Dan’s eyes. “Just not sleeping great lately.”
Dan feels like the biggest asshole on the planet a few moments later when he figures it out. “Oh. Amy. Fuck, Phil. Sorry.”
Phil shakes his head, and smiles weakly when he looks up again. “It’s fine. I’m actually fine? It’s just weird, like… I got used to her being there, y’know? It’s like I forgot how to sleep alone or something.”
Dan nods. “I can stop… you know.”
Phil tilts his head to the side. “What, having fun?”
Dan shrugs. “It’s not really as fun as it used to be,” he says quietly.
“Well you don’t have to worry about me,” Phil assures him. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“Alright, thanks. You off to work?”
Phil nods. “Off to another super fulfilling day of doing all the jobs no one else wants to.”
“Yeah, but you’re like… Drake.”
Phil frowns. “When will you learn that your references always go over my head?”
Dan rolls his eyes. “Drake is hardly obscure.”
Phil still looks confused, so Dan says, “Started from the bottom?”
“Ohhh.”
“Yeahhh,” Dan says, taking a sip of his coffee. “You got a job at the fucking BBC, Phil. You’re just working your way up. You’re doing good.”
Phil shrugs. “I guess.”
“Shut up. You actually finished your degree, and now you’ve got a job you’re not embarrassed to tell people about.”
“Are we playing misery bingo or something?”
Dan’s mouth snaps shut. “No. Sorry.” He’s so bad with that and he knows it.
It’s not Phil’s fault Dan couldn’t bear to finish more than a year of his own degree. It’s not Phil’s fault that a clothing shop was the best job Dan was qualified to apply for when they first moved to London together. It’s not Phil’s fault that something is broken in Dan’s brain that keeps him from acting on the aspirations of creativity and success he holds in his heart.
Dan doesn’t actually hold any of these things against Phil. If anything, he’s glad Phil is always so willing to call him out without being mean about it.
Phil chuckles and claps Dan on the arm. “Good pep talk, Howell. I’ve gotta be off or I’ll miss my train. You gonna be home tonight?”
“You gonna cook for me?” Dan asks.
“I will… if you pay your half of the rent.”
Dan scowls.
“I’m sorry! The landlord lady is terrifying!” Phil insists. “I swear to god her eyes are yellow. I think she might be a witch.”
Dan chokes on his coffee a bit with his laugh. “She’s not a witch Phil, you’re just a wimp.”
“Yeah but I always pay my rent on time.”
“Ouch. Technically I pay it for you, dickhead.”
He does. Nine times out of ten Phil will give Dan the money and Dan will be the one who physically takes it down to Linda in her little office in the lobby. Maybe that’s why Phil thinks she resembles a witch - he never actually sees her.
“Sorry,” Phil mutters, looking away. “I can help you out if you—”
Dan waves his hand dismissively. “I got it, no worries. I’ll shower and go pay the wicked witch of the overpriced shitty apartment kingdom.”
Phil smiles. “You’re so brave.”
“Which is why I deserve a proper meal when you get home.”
Phil rolls his eyes. “Fine. That’s fair. Do we even have any food in the house?”
“Dunno. I’ll have like ten pounds to my name after rent so we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.”
“You mean I’ll have to make do,” Phil reminds him.
Dan gives him a big cheesy grin. “Mhm.”
“Do you work today?”
“Nope. Blissful freedom. Might throw a party. Might buy some blow and hire some strippers.”
“And tidy up a bit?” Phil asks gingerly. “And water my houseplants?”
“Course.”
Phil smiles a genuine cheesy grin. He’s so easy to please. “Thanks mate.”
“Go to work now,” Dan reminds him. “Can’t afford for you to get sacked.”
“Oh bollocks,” Phil says, jumping up from where he’s leaned back against the counter. “I’m gonna have to run for the tube.”
“Go,” Dan says, waving him off. “Run. Have a lovely day, darling.”
“Shut up!” He hurries out of the kitchen to the front door, shoving his feet into his trainers and leaving them untied as he wrenches open the door. “Bye!”
“Tie your laces!” Dan shouts after him. “You’re clumsy enough when your shoes are tied!” He hears Phil shout something back but he can’t hear it as Phil’s already halfway down the hall.
Dan’s smile lingers the whole time he finishes his coffee.