Work Text:
Phil woke up to the feeling of a wet tongue licking his face, and his entire body scrunched. “Daniel, your son is on the bed.”
“Before sunrise, he’s your son,” his husband mumbled from next to him, and Phil opened one eye to see their corgi perched on his shoulder, panting directly into his face. Phil huffed and rolled over a little, scooping him up. “Stewbert, you aren’t supposed to be in here.”
The corgi was technically named Soup, but because Phil hated Soup (the food) with a passion, he had never actually called him that. Luckily, Soup (the dog) had negative three brain cells, and answered to literally any soup-related name you threw in his direction.
Soup barked in his arms, wiggling his adorable little paws excitedly as he realized Phil was awake.
“You are so, so lucky that you are the love of my life, otherwise I would punt you across the room.” Phil sighed. “You’d probably love that.”
Soup barked in agreement, and Dan rolled over with a huff. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you two.”
“Acknowledge your son, pay child support.” Phil said, holding him by Dan’s face so Soup could lick it.
“Noo, chicken soup breath!” Dan whined, and Phil laughed as his partner tried to wriggle away only to be reminded that their bed was small and he was pretty firmly tangled in the blankets.
Soup barked happily, thinking that they were having a family wrestle. Dan laughed, grinning up at Phil and Soup with his eyes happily crinkled and his face bright and happy and god, Phil loved him.
“Hi, beautiful,” Phil cooed, and Dan shifted closer. “Hi handsome.”
Phil kissed him, pinning Soup between the two of them and running a hand through Dan's curls.
Their alarm started to go off on the bedside table, but neither of them moved to turn it off, too busy with each other, until eventually it snoozed itself and they rose to start the day.
Dan was a primary school teacher, with a load of 9 year olds who he dearly loved, and Phil owned his own book store.
He had bought the building with all the cash he’d left home with, and it had originally been three apartments all stacked on top of each other. Originally, the plan had been to convert the bottom one into his shop, live on the second floor, and then rent out the studio on the third floor to a tenant. And originally, that was what he had done.
But then Phil got more books. And more books. And even more books. He couldn’t fit them all on the shelves, so his inventory started creeping into the stairway. And then up into the second floor. And then suddenly, he was converting the kitchen on the second floor into a small cafe, filling the rooms he was supposed to live in with sitting areas and even more books, and Phil was living in the studio.
When Dan arrived in his life 6 years ago, he had taken one look at the room Phil was living in and the dead plants lining his window sill, and he had laughed and immediately started caring for them as if they were his own. He hung string lights everywhere, painted a wall with a blue to accent the mossy green of the rest of the walls. Phil might’ve bought the building and moved himself in, but Dan made it a home.
They were happy, together, in their tiny flat, with Soup and their plants.
No one from the outside -- hell, no one except Phil would ever guess his secret. Even Dan didn't know, no matter how many times Phil had tried to tell him. At this point, Dan didn't need to know, knowing would only upset him.
Which was why, when the bell to his shop rang and Phil saw not one, but four men in black suits walk in, each with a Leonaire crest on their chest, his immediate reaction was; “No, get out.”
He had two other customers in the shop, along with Sophie, who ran his cafe. He was sure Sophie heard him upstairs, and Mrs. Benson (a lovely older widow, who came by at least once a week if not more), looked at him strangely -- Phil had never once been rude, not to a customer, not even when they deserved it.
“Really, Phil,” one of the guards said, removing his sunglasses, “is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Phil squinted. “PJ? What are you -- how did you even find me?”
PJ laughed a little, stepping into his space to casually rest a hand on his shoulder. “Phil, c'mon, did you ever think you really vanished?”
No, not truly, but he had certainly hoped.
Whatever expression was on Phil's face made PJ soften. “Look, everyone let you be, yeah? Your parents, all of us, we all knew where you were and we never bugged you -- so that's how you know it's important if I'm here now.”
Phil chewed the inside of his cheek. What PJ was saying made sense, but Phil still hated it, hated the knowledge that his family had known where he was all this time -- they knew, that meant, they knew about Dan and knew why he'd left.
Which brought him to; “Why now? I follow the news, nothing's been reported-”
His heart dropped like a stone, and he looked at PJ with wide eyes. “My parents-”
“Both alive and well,” PJ assured him, “but there's been an incident, we need you home.”
“What on earth needs me home after 6 years?” PJ glanced over at Mrs. Benson, who was shamelessly eavesdropping, and then at Sophie and the other young customer, who had both come down the stairs enough to watch.
“Tell you on the plane,” PJ said, “that way we can fill your boyfriend in too.”
Phil's hackles instinctively rose, and he shoved PJ's hand off his shoulder. “My husband doesn't need to be involved in this, and I'm not getting on a plane with you.”
PJ tilted his head in that way of his -- he clearly hadn’t changed very much in six years. “You aren’t an English citizen.”
“Am so, I have dual.”
“Your marriage still isn’t recognized on-”
“We aren’t discussing this,” Phil said sharply. “And I’m not going, so I’d like you to leave my shop.”
“The king and queen-”
“If they want something, they can call, clearly they know how to get in contact with me. Out, I can call the police.”
“Phil?” Sophie called awkwardly, and Phil turned toward her, giving her a kind smile. “It’s okay, Soph, PJ is an old friend, I’d just like him to leave.”
Sophie was clearly eying the other three guards, each with a gun on their belt, and PJ waved his hand at them. They all filed out, as neatly and silently as they came in.
“I understand you make delicious coffee,” PJ said, giving Sophie a charming smile. “Can I have one?”
Phil eyed him. “And then you’ll leave?”
PJ held his gaze. “And while I do, we can talk. I can maybe fill you in on some of what’s going on, since you won’t come with me on your own.”
Phil groaned, but nodded -- PJ was persistent, and Phil had missed them, he could handle a conversation.
Before they headed upstairs, both Mrs Benson and the younger customer brought up their purchases, clearly wanting to leave. Phil casually applied a 20% discount to both of them for the trouble, and on her way out the door Mrs Benson gently squeezed his hand.
“I hope everything’s alright, dear,” She said lowly, “it would be a shame to have a young man as polite as you leave our community.”
Phil smiled back at her. “It’ll be alright, ma’am, honest.”
On her way out, he turned the sign to closed, then took a deep breath and headed up to the cafe. PJ was sitting there, two mugs in front of him. “Sophie assured me you take it the same way.”
Phil sighed and dropped into the chair. “Peej, be honest, what's going on?”
PJ pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. “Martyn's releasing this statement tomorrow.”
Phil scanned it, and his eyebrows shot up about three words in. “Allegations? What the fuck?”
“Martyn's been accused of sharing state secrets,” PJ said, taking a sip of his coffee.
“He would never.”
“I know that, and you know that, and your parents know that,” PJ leaned in a little. “But the media, the public don't know that. Ever since your father's diagnosis, the crown has been viewed as weak -- which, by the way, wasn't exactly helped by you vanishing.”
Phil felt a tiny wave of guilt, although it was quickly replaced by indignation. “They knew where I was all this time, they could have called instead of making me find out about that from the bloody news.”
PJ tilted his head. “You made it pretty clear that you didn't want to be found, mate.”
“That's not fair, he's my dad-”
“You could have called. Hell, you could have come home! You aren't fucking blacklisted, you would have been welcomed with goddamn trumpets-”
“Which is exactly why I never did! You of all people know why I left!”
Sophie cleared her throat a little, and they both turned to look at her. “If there's nothing else, Phil, I cleaned up and I think I should maybe go-”
“No, don't bother, we'll be opening up again as soon as PJ leaves,” Phil crossed his arms. “I gave you your cup of coffee, I heard you out, I'm still not coming, so. Bye, nice catching up.”
PJ sighed heavily, standing. “Alright, fine. I'd like it noted that I tried to do this diplomatically.”
PJ's phone was still on Phil's side of the table, and it began to buzz. “I'd answer that, your highness, there's someone on the other end who's probably going to want some answers.”
Phil stared at him for a long moment. “You wouldn't, you didn't-”
“Oh, before we even came here,” PJ shook his head. “In my defense, it was Martyn's idea.”
“I'm going to kill him,” Phil snapped, jabbing his finger against the screen. “Hi, Dan-”
“Phil!! What the fuck is going on, they grabbed me from my bloody classroom!”
“Yeah,” Phil sighed, “yeah, hold on, I'm coming.”
As they finally arrived at the air field they were going to fly out of, Phil saw Dan standing there, surrounded by guards with Soup in his arms. The happy, sweet Corgi from this morning was wearing his work vest, and he was pressed up against Dan’s chest and trying to soothe him, because Dan was clearly panicking.
Phil felt a spike of righteous fury, and he climbed out of the car. “Oi! Back away from him!”
It was spooky how fast they all still listened to him -- had he slipped into his firm voice? The stupid royal prince tone he had tried to shake for a decade?
Dan's eyes locked on him, and his arms a little around Soup's tiny body. “Phil, what the fuck is happening? A bunch of third years saw me getting loaded into a car and started shouting, my principal asked if I was getting arrested.”
“I'm so sorry,” Phil said, “They never should have done that.”
Dan's gaze sharpens a bit. “You're avoiding my question.”
Dammit, why is his husband so smart.
“Yeah,” Phil swallowed, “yeah, okay, um- so-”
He's practiced this conversation dozens, hundreds of times in his head. He's trialed multiple ways this conversation could go.
It never looked like this, in his head. It was never quite this terrifying.
“Use words, please,” Dan hissed, “we're standing in a fucking airplane hanger with the men in bloody black-”
“I wasn't born in Rossendale," Phil blurted, “I was born in Leonaire.”
Dan blinked.
“It's a tiny island in the-”
“Phil, I'm a teacher, I have a map given to me by the british government, I know where Leonaire is.” Dan stepped into Phil's space, and Phil noticed that one of the guards reached for his gun. Phil shot him a glare, then turned back to Dan.
“Why,” Dan said through gritted teeth, “are strange people coming to my place of work and forcing me into unmarked cars and telling me the king and queen ordered it?”
“Because I'm their son,” Phil whispered, “I'm the second son of the royal family of Leonaire.”
Dan stared at him. One of the guards coughed.
“Royal family.” Dan said. “As in Lizzie and fucking Charles.”
“They're cousins, actually.”
“Cousins-”
Dan's breath went ragged, and he crouched down on the spot the way he did when he thought he might faint. Soup barked worriedly, and Dan petted his ears. Phil's hands were shaking, and he gave Dan a minute before crouching down in front of him.
“I'm sorry,” Phil said, wishing desperately that they were in their flat instead of here, surrounded by strangers and an old friend who Phil felt like he barely knew, “I’m so sorry, I never wanted you to find out this way.”
“You lied to me,” Dan said, sounding horrified, and the guilt grew tenfold. He looked at Phil with wet eyes. “You know, you know everything and you still-”
He buried his face in the scruff just above Soup's vest, then set the dog down so he could stand abruptly.
“Can I leave?” Dan asked one of the guards. “I know now, great, I'll keep my mouth shut, I have a job to get back to.”
Phil's heart ached, but he knew Dan, knew that he needed an escape right now. His instinct was to push, to find a solution now, but he knew he couldn't, knew that if he made Dan stay it would only make it worse.
The problem was, he knew Dan wouldn't be allowed to leave.
PJ had the good grace to look genuinely apologetic. “I'm sorry, her majesty requested both of you.”
“Lovely,” Dan said through gritted teeth, “finally gonna meet my in laws.”
He marched toward the plane, Soup on his heels, and Phil watched him go with a curl of nausea in his stomach.
“For the record,” PJ said, “that's not our fault.”
“For the record, I hate you.” Phil grumbled, then headed for the plane.
Phil got motion sick on planes.
It was a fact Dan had learned on their honeymoon, when they went to Japan together -- a beautiful, romantic week, that he considered the best eight days of his life, up until now.
Now, Dan didn’t feel any sympathy for his poor, motion sick husband, not when said husband lied to him -- and not a small lie, like when he ate all the squashies or forgot to take out the bins, no, Phil lied about his entire life before they met.
And Phil knew, Phil knew how much Dan hated being lied to, so Dan sat on the opposite side of the plane and ignored everyone staring at him.
Soup licked Dan’s hand again, trying to ground him against the anxiety that was threatening to make him explode. Dan wanted to curl up in his bed and cry, lay with his dog and an icepack against his neck and Phil there, holding him tight.
But Phil was the problem, Phil was the thing triggering him. Dan hated that.
Maybe it was torturing himself, but Dan glanced over at Phil. He did look miserable -- the plane ride was a bit turbulent, and he looked sufficiently green around the gills. Mad as he was, Dan wished someone could at least get him some dramamine.
The part of him that had already forgiven Phil, however small that part was, was so tempted to go over there, hold his hand.
The majority of him was still too mad for that, but after a few moments of debate, Dan grumbled a curse and took off Soup’s vest.
As soon as it was removed, Soup relaxed in his lap -- no longer Dan’s service dog, he was instead just a corgi.
“Go get papa, Soup.” Dan said softly, setting him down. Immediately, Soup charged across the plane to hop up on Phil’s lap, barking for attention. A few of the guards made cooing noises.
Phil’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Soup in shock before turning his head to look at Dan.
Dan held his gaze for a moment, reading the guilt, the apology, then he looked away.
Phil didn’t send Soup back over, and Dan figured that was as close to a truce as they would get, right now.
The plane landed, and they were both herded into a car with the dog in tow. The lead guard, PJ, Dan had heard him called, rode with them. The other guards seemingly vanished once they were back on their home turf.
“Have you ever met a royal, before?” PJ asked, and Dan blinked.
“I married one, apparently.”
“No, I mean -- in a formal setting, do you know how to greet a royal?”
“PJ, we’ve been taken from our home. If Mum and Dad wanted a formal greeting, they should have sent a letter.” Phil said, sounding as tired as Dan felt.
“I still haven’t been told what they even want,” Dan said, and Phil’s head snapped around to look at him. “Nobody told you? You didn’t tell him, you just loaded him in an unmarked car?!”
“I was with you!” PJ protested, and a cold fury that Dan had rarely seen came over his husband. “If I find out that they laid so much as a finger on him, PJ-”
“I’ll fire them myself.” PJ promised, then turned to Dan. “Phil’s older brother, the current heir apparent, is being accused of gross misconduct. We know it’s not true, but we can’t prove it yet, so the public is calling for him to be removed from the line of succession -- more than anything, the crown needs to appear unified right now, and the only way to do that is to have Phil come home.”
“We’re here so Phil can take the crown?” Dan felt queasy. “I don’t, I can’t-”
“My parents are still the sitting monarchs,” Phil reassured, “We -- as far as I can tell, we’re just here for a publicity stunt, right?”
“And because, y’know, people fucking miss you, and half the people think you died and the other half think you were kicked out for some horrific scandal,” PJ rolled his eyes, “you know, all the normal things people think when the prince disappears without a word.”
“Wait, so you didn’t-” Dan finally turned to address his husband directly. “You didn’t… Why were you in London, then? Because I assumed you were sent there for some stupid reason.”
“I told you I was afraid to come out to my parents,” Phil said, looking down at his hands. “That was true.”
Dan, whose own relationship with his parents was a toxic cesspool, had never really questioned why Phil never called or visited his parents, had assumed that much like himself, it just wasn’t an option.
“So you just ran away?” Dan asked, skeptical, “and you didn’t get like, followed or whatever?”
“I clearly was, and I clearly was too much of an idiot to notice.” Phil grumbled.
Dan bit back the urge to tell him he wasn’t an idiot -- he was reluctantly cooling off, but he was determined to hold onto his anger for at least a little bit longer. God, he couldn’t believe Phil had never told him-
Soup barked softly, obviously confused about what was happening, and Dan reached over to pet his ears. “What do I need to know, before I meet them?”
“Address the king as your majesty and the queen as your highness until they tell you not to,” PJ said, “when you sit to eat, make sure you wait until they start, and bow whenever they stand.”
“You really don’t need to do all that,” Phil said, and Dan glared at him. “Forgive me, I figured I’d make a good impression, since I’m a lowly commoner who eloped with their son.”
“You are not- We didn’t elope, that implies that we got married last minute!”
“But you’re not refuting the lowly commoner bit? Wow, Phil, the truth is coming out-”
“You know that’s not what I mean!”
Against all odds, their silly bickering made Dan want to forgive him more. This was still his dramatic, utterly ridiculous husband, and this would all be much easier if Dan didn’t love him quite so much.
They rode in silence until the car pulled to a stop, then they were ushered out and PJ led them through a building that -- fuck, it was a palace, all ornate decore and paintings everywhere -- fucking hell, was that Phil with dyed black hair?
Dan hugged Soup close to his chest, anxiety spiking again as he automatically tried and failed to keep track of where they were going. Which one of the dozens of doors let him out? Was that a camera in the corner or just crown moulding? Was this a palace or a gilded cage, and Dan was just going to be trapped again-
PJ opened a door into a sitting room, where two older people sat. It was a man and a woman, and they looked… normal. Comfortable sweaters, the woman had glasses.
Phil's breath caught next to him, and Dan swallowed. These people were the king and queen of the country he was currently in.
The queen rose, and Dan bowed automatically, but she paid him no mind, instead walking straight over toward Dan's trembling husband. Dan raised his face enough to watch as she approached, as she held out a hand to touch Phil's face as if he might disappear.
“Oh,” she whispered, “oh, child, my baby-”
“Mum,” Phil sobbed, and then they were hugging.
Oh.
This was what Phil had been worried about?
“Dibbet,” The queen said, rocking in place with Phil in her arms, “darling, shh, shh-”
“Mum,” Phil whimpered, “Mum, I'm so- Dad-”
The king had risen, and Dan dipped his head again, and again no one paid him any mind. The king's gait was slower, more careful, hadn't there been a news article years ago about this man almost dying from a rare cancer?
“You left,” The king said, voice not accusing, but still soft, firm. “Without a word, you just left.”
“I'm sorry,” Phil said, steppimg away from his Mum a little. “I thought -- I wanted -- I was scared.”
“To tell us you were gay?” The queen asked, finally turning to look at Dan, who quickly bowed for a third time. “Oh, sweetheart -- PJ, did you scare this young man?”
She approached, and Dan realized he wasn't sure how long he was supposed to bow for. He was shaking all over, Soup whining in his arms. “Your highness-”
“None of that,” the queen said, “you married my son, you can look at me, dear, and call me Kath.”
Dan raised his face a bit, and she smiled at him. The queen -- Kath had a kind air about her, and she looked understanding and gentle. Phil had been scared that this woman wouldn't approve of him? Had thought that this beautiful place where he was clearly loved wouldn't welcome him?
Had thought all that, run from all this, when Dan had fought tooth and nail to get out of his home, and then away from where he ended up?
“I'm so sorry about all the drama,” Kath said, “this was likely the last thing you were expecting today.”
She looked down at his jeans, and Dan belatedly realized that it was Friday, which meant he was wearing baggy jeans, and converse, and a black t-shirt that said ask me about my phonics. He was wearing his ID badge. He probably still had expo marker on his hands. Did he even shower this morning?
Of all things, that thought was what finally broke him.
His breathing caught, and Soup whined as Dan took a few terrified steps back from -- from the queen, he was meeting royalty, his husband had lied about being royalty -- and his eyes filled with tears as he realized he was trapped again, stuck in a relationship and a situation he couldn't get out of, just like before, just like with his dad, with Ben, and he was going to die here, just like in Winnersh and in Reading and-
And he had to run. He was a coward, just like before, and he had to run-
And so he turned, and he ran.
Phil saw the moment Dan hit his breaking point from across the room, and didn't call out to him as he turned and ran.
“Hey, wait-” PJ started, but Phil called his name. “PJ, please, let him go, tell the whole palace to just let him be, he needs a minute.”
PJ looked weary, and Phil gave him a look. “Please, PJ, he won't do anything, just give him space.”
PJ held his gaze, then got on the radio and relayed the message.
“Did I…” his mum turned to him, “did I do something?”
Phil sighed heavily, looking back at his parents “how much do you know about him?”
He was under no illusions, he knew that as soon as Dan had entered his life, a file had been created, his background checked. It was just a matter of how deep they had gone.
His parents exchanged a look. His father stepped forward. “We know that he's from the south, and he… he's mentioned in a few police reports, but other than making sure he wasn't convicted, we didn't read them.”
Phil sighed and headed over to a chair, sinking down to run his hands through his hair. “Dan… it's not my story to tell, but he's… he's been through some stuff. Feeling trapped, lying, it… it messes him up, and I fucked up by not telling him the truth…”
His parents were silent for a moment, and then his father asked, softly; “why did you leave?”
Phil looked up at them shyly. “I… I didn't think you'd approve. Gay marriage isn't legal, and, and everyone wanted to know when I would take a wife, and I was… I was scared, and then I met Dan and I saw how terrible some parents could be, and you got sick and I felt so horrible that I just… I couldn't…”
Nigel put his hand on Phil's shoulder. “Phil, does this young man make you happy?”
Phil's eyes were misty. “He's the love of my life, dad.”
The hand squeezed gently. “Then everything else can be figured out from there. We're so happy you're home, Dibs.”
Phil's misty eyes turned to tears, and he reached up to hug his dad, sobbing into his shoulder. “I'm so sorry I wasn't here, I missed you so much, I'm so glad you're okay-”
Nigel chuckled, rubbing his back. “Oh, lad, a few bad cells can't take me down.”
His mum joined the hug, and for a few moments, Phil was a little boy again, loved by his parents and his people, his brother-
His brother.
“Martyn,” Phil said abruptly, remembering how horrible his brother must be feeling “Where's Martyn?"
His mother gave him a sly smile. “We didn't tell him you were coming, we thought it might cheer him up.”
“You'll see him at dinner,” Nigel said, ruffling his hair. “In the meantime, you should go talk to Dan, yes?”
“Yeah,” Phil said, nodding, “yeah, I should, I am.”
His parents stepped away, and Phil headed out with no guards following him. Phil knew these halls like the back of his hand, and he knew Dan pretty well.
So when he approached a linen closet that he recognized, he wasn't surprised to hear Soup whining and Dan sniffling.
Phil opened the door, and Dan stared up at him for a moment. Phil raised an eyebrow. “Nudge over.”
He let the door shut behind him, both of them sitting with their knees pulled up in the small space. Dan pressed his face to Soup's fur again, and Phil reached over to scratch the corgi's ears. “Good boy, stewie, you're a good boy.”
“How'd you find me?” Dan mumbled.
“This was my favorite hiding spot when I was a kid,” Phil said, “smells like detergent.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Dan picked his head up to take a few deep breaths.
“I'm really sorry about all of this,” Phil said, “I know that's not enough, and you don't have to forgive me, but I'm really sorry.”
Dan looked at him, and Phil looked back with wide eyes. “If you want to go home, I'll make that happen. Say the word, I'll have you on a plane in an hour and you'll never have to see me again. You're in charge, here.”
Dan stared at him for a few more seconds. “And if I don't want that?”
“You can hide in the palace. We'll never make you do any press, or show you to the world. You can be as involved as you like. I'll never -- I'll protect you, that doesn't seem to mean much right now, but I will.”
Dan kept staring at him, eyes puffy and red rimmed and so, so beautiful.
“Fuck, I’m crazy. I must be crazy for even considering -- you lied to me, and I’m still going to stay!”
Dan slumped back against the towels, groaning. “I can’t believe this, I’m going- going to have to face -- this is insane, Phil.”
“I know.” Phil said, “and -- It’s not easy, part of the reason I left is because it’s really, really hard, sometimes.”
Dan looked over at him, “but you’ll be with me?”
“Always,” Phil promised, taking his hand and squeezing.
Dan shifted so he could lean against his shoulder. “God, Phil, what the fuck?”
“I know,” Phil kissed the top of his head. “I know, I love you.”
“I love you too.” Dan shook his head, “against all odds, I really, really love you.”
Phil closed his eyes, nose pressed into Dan’s curls.
“Can we stay here for a bit longer?” Dan asked.
“As long as you need,” Phil promised. “We can stay here forever, if you want.”
Dan hummed, and they sat there, for as long as they needed.
As they walked into the dining room, hand in hand with Soup on their heels, Phil saw a tall, ginger figure, with his back turned to him, and he stopped short.
He had missed his parents, his people, PJ -- none as much as he missed Martyn. His older brother was the hardest person to leave, all those years ago.
Dan grinned at him, dropping his hand and stepping back at Martyn turned. They stared at one another.
“... you absolute twat!” Martyn shouted, and Phil sobbed, running straight at his older brother and getting swept up in his arms.
“You completely boneheaded, bloody idiot, Dibs, what the fuck?!” Martyn cried against his shoulder, one hand gripping Phil’s shirt and the other one clenching in his hair to sharply tug it in punishment. Phil just burrowed further into Martyn’s neck, refusing to move.
“Can I ask why everyone is calling you Dibs?” Dan said, “Also, ma’am, I’m so sorry about earlier-”
“Nonsense,” Kath said, probably coming over to stand with Dan. “This is a lot, of course you needed a moment. Come, sit.”
Phil didn’t bother to look over at them, just standing there with his brother for a few more seconds before they stepped apart. Martyn looked him over, then ruffled his hair. “Gosh, look at you with the bleach, what a drama queen.”
“Fuck off,” Phil laughed, shoving him lightly. They headed for the table, where Phil’s mum was happily explaining that Phil had called himself Dibbet when he was younger, that it had been so cute the name had stuck. Dan looked mildly uncomfortable, sitting next to Kath and staring at the fancy china, but he relaxed when Phil slid into the seat next to him.
“Phil, it’s so good to see you again,” Cornelia said, and Phil smiled at her. He had left fairly soon after their wedding, so he hadn’t gotten to know Cornelia very well. She looked lovely, and she was very pregnant.
“Gonna introduce us?” Martyn asked, nodding at Dan, who blushed.
Phil took his hand. “This is my husband, Dan, and our dog Soup. They’re my family.”
Dan gave him a tiny smile, at that, and Phil squeezed his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Dan,” Cornelia said, “Hope you’re hungry, it’s steak night.”
Dan ducked his head, and Phil knew he wasn’t going to bring it up, so he glanced over at the waiter in the corner. “Would you mind telling chef that Dan is vegan? Thank you.”
“Of course, highness.” The waiter nodded, bowing and leaving, and Phil groaned. “I didn’t miss that.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Dan mumbled, “I’m not a very good vegan, the chef doesn’t have to make me a special meal.”
“Oh, we have things prepared,” Nigel said, “the palace has to always be ready to host, there’s things already in place.”
Dan nodded, still looking at the plate and multiple forks in front of him.
“You’re a teacher, right Dan?” Kath said, and Dan nodded, immediately relaxing a bit as he started describing his students, his coworkers, the project they had been working on this week. Phil watched him, a soft smile on his face.
When the food was brought out, Dan looked at the forks again, visibly concerned, and Phil subtly nudged one with his pinky.
Dan exhaled, and bumped their knees together under the table. Phil bumped him back.
After dinner, Phil excused them both and led them to his room. His parents hadn’t changed anything -- his posters were still on the wall, his bedsheets were still blue and green, and -- Phil almost teared up when he realized that the small lion and lioness toys were still sitting on his bedside table.
“This isn’t a guest room, right?” Dan asked, staring at the carpet, and Phil snorted. “You think my mum would let our guests stay in a room with carpet this color?”
Dan smiled. “The green is… a choice.”
“I was 12, I liked green!” Phil laughed. Soup had already run over to a corner where his bed and food bowl from home had been set up. Dan eyed that, then the duffle bags on the bed. “I don’t like that they packed our things for us.”
“I know,” Phil sighed, “but at least you have your own pillow?”
Dan went over to the duffles, unpacking them and filling Phil’s drawers and closet as if he owned the place -- which he did, as far as Phil was concerned. His set of rooms, his bedroom, ensuite, closet, and sitting room, were bigger than their studio flat back home.
Phil let him get settled going over to gently stroke a finger along Lion’s mane. “They really didn’t change anything.”
“Yeah, given what you know about my parents, I do low-key want to smack you for running away from all this, but I also respect that you had no idea they would actually be cool.” Dan said. “Your mum seems really nice, though.”
“She’s the best,” Phil mumbled, grabbing his pillow and hugging it close. “I missed them a lot.”
“I can tell,” Dan sat next to him. “I’m glad you get to come home, even if the circumstances aren’t great.”
Phil looked at him. “You give me so much grace.”
“As we established earlier, I’m actually insane,” Dan said, kicking off his shoes and getting comfortable atop the blankets. His bear was in his arms -- someone had thought to pack his bear, and that would be thoughtful if it wasn’t a bit creepy.
“Can we talk about what happens next?” Dan asked as Phil laid next to him. “It was nice of you to offer, but I doubt I can actually hide in the palace for the rest of my life.”
“I’ll be expected to do a press conference, give a statement about where I’ve been and why I left,” Phil said, tangling their ankles together. “That’s when the world will find out about you, and we’ll probably get asked to do some interviews and stuff. There’s almost definitely going to be some sort of party or gala.”
“And I,” Dan’s face scrunched, “I'm going to have to know etiquette and stuff? I mean, you saw me with the forks.”
“We have people for that,” Phil said, “that you don’t have to worry about. Plus, we have people to write speeches and help you practice what to say in an interview. Honestly, you’ll do fine.”
Dan burrowed a bit further into the pillow. “They won’t like me. The people, I mean, I’m just a teacher. And a man.”
“Then I’ll have proof of the thing I’ve already known,” Phil said seriously, “the public is stupid and doesn’t actually care about me or my happiness.”
“Is it even legal? Us being married?”
“There's a bill floating around parliament," Phil sighed, “I'm sure when I give my speech, I can put some pressure on them to pass it.”
“... why did you never tell me about any of this?”
Phil sighed, tracing a seam on the duvet beneath them. “At first, I liked that you didn't know. My whole life everyone expected me to be a certain way, and I didn't have that with you. Then we just moved so fast that by the time I realized I had to tell you, it felt too late.”
“We did move fast,” Dan agreed. “... you didn't need to marry me for like, a green card or whatever, right?”
“Nah, I have dual citizenship, I was in the country legally.”
Dan nodded. “That’s good.”
Phil cupped his face. “Love you so much, bear. You’re gonna be amazing.”
“I love you too,” Dan mumbled, leaning in close. “I mean, I’m still mad at you, I reserve the right to be mad at you for a while.”
“Fair,” Phil sighed, glancing around the room. “This isn’t where I thought our day would end.”
“Me neither.” Dan reached forward to swipe a thumb over Phil’s temple. “But it’s you and me against the world, right?”
“You and me against the world.” Phil said, and finally leaned in for a kiss.
The press conference was two days later, and Phil was required to wear his finery -- things he hadn't worn in years, and was a bit worried about them fitting
Still, he got dressed the same way he always had, too tight pants and pins all over, a fake sword on his hip. Dan watched him with heat in his eyes -- he'd been fitted for a suit, with a Leonaire crest stitched on.
He looked handsome, and from the way Dan was looking at him, Phil didn't look half bad himself. He was plenty anxious though -- this was the first time he had been presented to the public in years, and he had left so unexpectedly-
“You're gonna be okay,” Dan said for the hundredth time, and Phil glanced over at him. The sound of the media outside was deafening, and his dad hadn't even started the conference yet.
“You think?”
“I know,” Dan kissed his cheek. “If there's one thing I've never doubted, it's how bloody likable you are.”
Phil couldn't help but laugh a little -- Dan always knew what to say.
“Ready then?” His dad asked as he entered, arm in arm with his mother. “Don’t worry, Dibbet, they’ll be thrilled just to see you.”
“I really, really hope you’re right.”
His father gave him a smile, then kissed his mother on the cheek and strode out across the stage to the podium. Cameras clicked and flashed, and every reporter fell silent in the presence of the king.
“Good afternoon, loyal peoples of Leonaire,” Nigel began. “I stand before you today not just as a king, but as a father. I am here to speak on the allegations made against my older son, heir apparent to the throne, Prince Martyn Gabriel Lester. The crown has seen the accusations made, and responded accordingly; as of three days ago, per the statement the prince released, he has been removed from all duties, and banned from all resources. This was done with the Prince’s consent; my family and I want all of you to know how serious these claims are, and to reassure you that a full investigation will be conducted, and as we find new information it will be shared accordingly. My son loves his county, and has vowed to work hard to regain the trust of the public.”
Phil’s heart clenched -- his father was very careful not to say Martyn was guilty, but until they had more answers about where the leaks had come from and what information was loose on the dark web, Martyn was being punished for it. Willingly, Martyn had agreed to this plan, but Phil still hated it.
“That leaves the question of succession, and the strength of the crown.” Nigel smiled, “and in that regard, I come bearing good news. Nearly seven years ago, my younger son left our nation, abdicating his place in line, and delegating his responsibilities in his wake. Many had questions, wanted to know where he went, and why he had left. Today, my people, he has returned to give us answers. I present, once again, crown prince and heir apparent, third of his name, my son, Philip Michael Lester.”
The collected reporters went mad, cheering and applauding as the anthem played. Phil took a deep breath, and then headed out. He gave the cameras a polite wave, and gave his father a quick hug.
“Breathe, my boy, you’ll do fine,” Nigel whispered in his ear before stepping away and letting Phil take the podium. Phil’s speech was typed out and in front of him, but with the cameras and the lights, his vision felt blurred, his hands clammy-
He glanced to his right, where he had just come from. Dan was watching him, gaze tender.
Phil could do this. He could do anything with his husband by his side.
He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon. I want to begin by saying how overjoyed I am to be back home, with my family. I have missed them, and all of you, during my time away. I want to follow that up with an apology; There was no reason for me to vanish the way I did. The royal family is supposed to be a paragon of strength and unity, and my choices gave everyone a stark reminder that we are also human. The reason I left was not political, there were no big conspiracies or wrongdoing. I left because I was young, I was emotional, and I was very scared.”
Phil took a deep breath, hands clenching around the edges of the podium. “Seven years ago, I was 19 years old. I had spent my entire life in the eyes of the public. My brother had just gotten married, and everyone was looking to me to see what was next; would I get married, continue the family line? Would I join our military, the church? Did I even want any of those things?” He sighed “And instead of answering those questions, instead of facing the truth, I chose to run.”
He glanced over at his parents -- his mother had joined them on stage, and she was standing with his dad. “I had no reason to be afraid, but around this time, I came to realize a simple truth; I am a gay man.”
He paused, letting the truth sit -- it was the first time he’d said it, like this, to everyone.
Phil swallowed thickly, realizing he was on the verge of tears. “I’m a gay man, and I was terrified of the world which, historically, has not treated people like me well. Leonaire itself has still not legalized gay marriage, despite being one of the highest ranked nations in regards to human rights. I was scared of the public, yes, but I was also scared to tell my parents, and the idea of telling them with the world watching was terrifying. This is not a royal issue, it is a deeply personal one. And so, I left. I went to London, our sister nation where I have legal citizenship. I told no one. I opened a bookshop.”
Here, Phil began to smile, “and I fell in love. I am a man, who fell in love with another man; one who is kind, and steady, and encouraging. A teacher, who has dedicated his life to educating children. If it’s alright, I’d like to introduce him to you.”
The camera flashes increased as Phil held out a hand, and Dan slowly came over.
He could see the way he was trembling, the shine in his eyes, and Phil gave him a warm smile. He turned back to the cameras, squeezing Dan’s fingers. “This is Daniel Howell. In England, he’s my husband, and once the marriage equality act is passed, I intend to make him my husband under our laws as well.”
A wave of confidence came over him, and he deviated from his script a little. “This man is the love of my life. No one has made me happier, and I am excited to share that happiness with the world.”
They had discussed boundaries beforehand, and he knew Dan didn’t want them to kiss in front of others yet, but Phil looked over at him, and Dan was staring at him with love written across his face. It would be so blatantly obvious, the public would know even if they didn’t say it.
“The future is bright,” Phil said in conclusion, “and I hope you all are excited to see it come. Long live Leonaire; I’m excited to be home!”
The crowd exploded into cheering, and Phil’s parents joined them to wave and get photographed.
It was far from over; there was an investigation, more healing to be done, and more questions to be answered.
But if this was going to be the rest of his life? If he could spend it hand in hand with his husband, his family at his backs?
That was a pretty great beginning.