arrrrrt

And now, I need to know is this real love
Or is it just madness keeping us afloat?
-Muse, Madness

Phil

"Tell them again!" Mark cheers, toasting his cup against Dan's clumsily.

Seeing how Dan is the closest, he is Mark's go-to as our friend tries to think of another thing to celebrate, and I laugh as I see Dan accommodate him awkwardly, glancing at me with a bemused expression while his plastic cup clinks against Mark's ill suiting wooden one.

"We're one step closer." Dan replies, rolling his eyes and smiling sideways at me.

The people surrounding us cheer and Felix and Mark laugh and take another drink, someone else throws a log on the makeshift bonfire that's been set in the centre of camp. There's more cheers as the fire grows and I watch the sparks tumble up into the air, shimmering and flashing as they drift into the night sky.

Last night there would have been no way for us to know that tonight we'd be celebrating a victory. While we were in the junkyard, the alliance of camps (which have taken to calling themselves the Resistance) managed to breach the Broxbourne home base, cutting power to the Confederation's headquarters. Our distracting Wirrow played a crucial role in the success, his mistake in judgement and choice to pursue Dan ultimately leading to the beginning of the end, what will hopefully be the eternal downfall of their power.

Today was all about meeting with other campers, hearing their stories and sharing our own. Dan and I chose to help our friends and others carry in the supplies that had been stolen from the base, which are bountiful to the excessive. It seems Wirrow and his crew intended to live out the rest of time in that building, a cleverly hidden abandoned hospital that, while unassuming on the outside, is the centre of the entire apocalypse operations on the inside.

We learned that Wirrow is the leader, The Man as they'd referred to him in the bunker where Dan and I got drugged and in the half-life camp where everything was set in motion. The knowledge that we'd come face to face with him yesterday and had no idea, he could've killed Dan with a snap of his fingers if he'd so decided. And yet he'd preserved him.

Tonight is a night of celebration. It's dark and warm and the stars are out and we have endless cans of food, bags of bread, even a few boxes of precious dried meat. The supplies we have were meant to feed an army and in in a way it's what we are, but it still feels impossibly incredible to see so much resource here.

Jack, the man who had healed Dan in the med tent was the one to crack open the crate of wine from a stack of boxes, holding up a bottle to the circle of jubilant campers.

"This drink," he'd announced to great enthusiasm, "is courtesy of the confeds!"

Everyone had gathered to eat and drink and share hopes for the first time in known history since the outbreak, and for once there was not a trace of defeat. Joy was a cacophony on all sides. People were laughing and singing and some even crying but my eyes, just as they do now, wandered of course to Dan. They've been going back to him all night, I'm afraid I might even be obsessed with him, but how could I not be now?

The first time he caught me staring, it was like slow motion as his head turned towards me. The roar of the joyous crowd faded out and the flames cast a glow on his skin that paired with his expression, was absolutely ethereal.

The bottle was raised in the air and more logs crashed onto the fire, but all I saw was the love of my life, laughing in disbelief and breaking into the happiest, most radiant smile I'd ever seen.

Even now, to see his face filled with so much life, full of expression and joy and hopeful optimism, all of it- and all of this- it's all I ever wanted. It's aimed at me again and I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe, heart racing and veins buzzing.

It was everything to wake up next to him today, to hold him in my arms before he was conscious of it in a way that moved beyond the ordinary embrace, to have him know that I love him. It's everything and more.

We were up fairly late last night, both unable to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning. Dan was afraid that I might disappear, I was afraid of his fear. Rightly so I suppose given the circumstances, but no less important in any case.

Dan is usually woken by sunlight early in the morning, his sleep so tense he doesn't sink into dreaming for long. But this morning was different, the sun was way up in the sky and he was still breathing softly, eyes relaxed and closed. The light filtered through his hair, making it glow a light brown, highlighting the soft curves and edges of his face. He'd had his arm draped securely around my neck then, head nuzzled into the dip of my shoulder with a cold nose poking my skin. That's what I woke up to, and I couldn't possibly ask for anything more.

How could I ever complain when hours later my mind now is full of thought of his legs tangled in mine earlier today, his arm is draped right across my chest? Memories of his lips exhaling soft breaths of air across my skin as I let him sleep, reveling in the spark of energy remaining from the escape from Wirrow. How could I have ever gotten so lucky?

The question sits in my mind now as I watch the firelight flicker over Dan's skin in the navy blue evening, strange faces all around us and yet a feeling of safety and belonging permeating the very air. His curls are all gathering to one side of his head, the fringe loose and tousled as if he'd styled it. He hasn't, he's just that damn lovely to look at, sipping his drink and watching the flames dance like he couldn't be more content. We can be ourselves in this group of survivors who share the same goals and victories as us, all buzzing off of small sips of wine and our own giddiness.

I know obviously that despite this feeling of respite, we are technically in no means any safer than we were before the junkyard. If anything, our vulnerability is even worse, now that there's this whole new layer to mine and Dan's relationship. This protectiveness over each other, which had already been bad before is impossible to ignore now.

The confeds are weak but they're still out there, we have to tread carefully and not get our guard down. That being said, it's undeniable that something has changed since last night. For tonight and maybe tonight alone something is different; we can let ourselves be okay.

The wine is sweet but still far too tart for my liking, my lips just about ready to curl into the infamous wine face that Dan always teases me about before he notices, smirking at me when I pull a face into my carved wooden cup that's only been drained of about a quarter of its contents.

I go to put it down and he lets out a whine of disapproval, his hand around my arm and pulling my wrist, resisting against my discarding of it. It's obvious that he thinks he'll be able to have the rest of mine as well without asking, or maybe he thinks I'm not letting myself have enough fun because I don't like the taste. In either case my cheeks feel warm and I'm not much in the mood for even casual drinking, thinking maybe I'll just pass it off to someone who wants it.

He leans over so that his chin brushes my shoulder, voice dropping to a quiet as if he's sharing a secret.

"Phil." He whispers, tone light and teasing. "We're celebrating. If you don't want it you better share it."

I shrug, trying to convince myself that I do want it, just not right now. I can tell he knows this because he shakes his head and moves to grab it. Out of a joking spite, I move my hand out of his reach.

It's times like these when I remember that Dan is just as clumsy as me, he just refuses to admit it. He has to catch himself to avoid falling off his split log, waving his hands at me irritably.

He stares at me with a disdainful expression, looking like a ruffled bird.

"I know you're not going to drink it!" He protests. Several onlookers chuckle, and I would too if I didn't know that he knew he was being cute, dodging back as he grabs my shirt with one hand whilst trying to take my cup with the other.

"Maybe later." I reply. His hands are grabby and he's trying to take it away, making wine slosh over the edge of my cup and onto my thumb.

I struggle uselessly for another moment longer before completely switching tactics, extending a finger and poking him in the cheek, and he jolts back so suddenly in surprise he nearly drops his own drink, poured liberally into a stolen red solo cup taken straight from the headquarters.

"The lovers are quarrelling!" Mark shouts, likely that loudly so that the others hear as well. With his booming words suddenly the attention of several eyes are momentarily drawn toward us, making me blush as our friend laughs along.

My heart stutters at the mention of mine and Dan's relationship, even though I've just been told I'm loved not one night before. More than that really, we said everything last night.

Neither Dan nor I are planning to get very drunk tonight. We agreed on one drink each, wanting to have this time to remember being with each other, but some people are going all out. The confeds knew how to source a party and now that they're sourcing us, I can only imagine what this night will be like for some of the people who haven't had a hope since the ordeal began.

I meet Mark's eyes and he shrugs at me, drinking back an entire share and chuckling as his cheeks turn even pinker.

"I'm guessing you guys are very busy right now but you know there's plans to make and shit to do if you're not dead." He tells me directly. "Things like taking down the confederation with the rest of us."

Dan exchanges a look with me at our friend's abnormally substandard taunting, knowing Mark isn't sharing this view. I roll my eyes at his attempt to sound even remotely authoritative when he's this tipsy.

"I'm kind of dead." I point out before I can even wonder if this is a very bad joke to make. "Did my death yesterday count?"

To my left Felix's eyes widen and I hear Chris gasp, stifling a snort behind his hand which reminds me that of course they're listening in. I've never felt so close to them as I do tonight. I feel a skip in my heartbeat and I realize what an insensitive thing that is to say in front of Dan, but when my eyes meet his all I can see is laughter.

"No." Mark says bluntly, and Dan's mouth drops.

Perhaps it's kind of sick to joke about what was probably one of the scariest moments of both our lives, but somehow it feels better to laugh at it, objectifying the thing that's caused us so much pain.

"You're alive now, obviously." Felix agrees with a shrug. "If you're making death jokes and somehow making it sound positive then you are clearly still Phil."

It's then that Beard chooses to enter the circle, returning from whatever mission he'd been on. Him and Earring have been gone all day, he seems to be without his brother for once.

"Hold up. Can we go back to lovers?" He interrupts, wandering over and moving to sit down with us. He's staring between me and Dan even though no part of us is actually touching, glancing from us to Mark as if someone's going to tell him off for making fun of us, and I realize just how out of the loop he is. At least his red cheeks and flushed expression remind me he's had a bit to drink too, enough at least that he's probably not going to react too dramatically when he's so relaxed.

I expect to see Dan blushing but his expression is steady, staring back at Beard like he's missing out on a joke.

The man raises his eyebrows, almost as if two physical puzzle pieces have clicked together. "No. What the fuck? You two?"

I look at Mark as if to go, you never told him? and he just shakes his head.

It's been a whole day since the spectacle happened, I don't understand how our companion could still be left out. Especially when they're all busy announcing our relationship to strangers with this entire conversation, not that I'm going to stop them. I don't care, it just reminds me that I have Dan.

Mark just shrugs, looking over at our confused friend who seems to be separated from his brother for the first time since we've known them. "Uh-"

"Haven't you heard? Dan's in love." Chris trills out, looking smug as Dan shakes his head bemusedly. "He's becoming one of us."

"Only for Phil." Dan shoots back, and I hear several laughs rise up from multiple directions. My heart flips almost immediately, in disbelief of him saying this.

In front of friends. In front of strangers. In front of me.

I send a glowing smile his way and Mark scoffs at me, rolling his eyes at such blatant affection.

"For the record Dan, I've known you weren't straight since the half-life camp." He butts in, lowered sobriety making his words roll free. "Nobody's that blatantly straight, so stop looking so superior."

I almost choke on my drink, which Dan swiftly takes out of my hands and tips back into his own mouth.

"I bet you aren't either." Dan retaliates as he rolls his eyes right back, setting the cup to the side and deliberately draping his arm over my shoulder. "Never seen someone so invested in my preferences."

It makes me wonder again what kind of history they've shared. Dan's already confided in me that Mark and Chris used harass him all the time about his feelings towards me, now I'm wondering what exactly they talked about.

"But you two are so grossly in love." Mark groans, turning to him with an exasperated look on his face. "It was obvious. You've always been, and then you proved it, only several fucking weeks later."

Dan is determinedly unfazed, a stark contrast to to flush spreading over my own cheeks. It's almost impossible for me to imagine, honestly. The idea that he could have seen us and thought it was so undeniably there. The idea that someone could feel that much for me, so much that it shows in the actions they make and the expressions on their face, to the point where Mark could see it.

"Yeah." Dan agrees sarcastically. "Death has a tendency to do that to people."

Mark's eyes widen and he glances likely subconsciously at my bandaged arm, and though there's no real fire behind Dan's words you can still tell Mark knows it's true.

"Touché." He says after a few lost moments, shaking his head but relenting his teasing.

Dan slips his hand through mine and leans his head on my shoulder for a moment, his fond smile making my heart feel warm. Felix is saying something to Mark and his attention gets redirected, his eyes leaving us with one last smirk. We don't even speak as we're left to our own devices again.

"That's so dark!" I whisper incredulously. He just shushes me, placing our overlapped hands on my knee.

I'm so content in this silence. I let the heat of the fire wash over me and the tiny amount of wine I'd had relax my mind, shuffling to the edge of the log I'm sitting on just to find the nook of his neck so I can settle my head in it. On the other side of the fire a group of strangers are telling an animated story to the crowd, explaining how they'd snuck around a crowd of zombies by quite literally walking on windowsills.

I want to say everything and nothing right now. It's hard to sit here in this group of people when I just want Dan and I alone but it's also so much to know that he's safe tonight. The euphoria of last night has built into an obsession, I want so much more from us before our time comes to an end. It's dramatic, but I feel like I could be alone with him forever.

The moment plays through my mind like a movie. Dan kissing me, making everything else fade to a blank. Losing the memory of what it's like to have air in my lungs, forgetting where I was and forgetting all my fear. It feels like lifetime ago, the same giddiness rising up in my chest as I think of it now.

I look at him sideways and see the grin on his face, his fingers still woven through mine but his eyes on something else. I wonder if he wants the same thing as I do right now, or if he actually wants to be here having fun with our friends.

I imagine Dan of a few months ago, scoffing at the idea of being in love to a point where you can't even differentiate between sometimes and forever. It's scary but exhilarating in a way to realize I've found someone who quite literally encompasses everything a person like me needs to be vibrant. I'm in love with him, I'm so in love with him, to the point where it feels like I can't contain it, like one wrong move will send it spilling out of my heart and into his hands. I could yell it from the top of the world and it still wouldn't be loud enough, a wish heard and granted.

He's come so far. He's opened up, he's made friends now. His smiles are genuine and he doesn't have to work as hard to show his emotions. He's so brave and strong and now we have hundreds of people behind us, plans not only forming but beginning to take shape, determination and surety that together we will fight back against the confederation.

I'm already so far gone with him even before he whispers into the dip of my neck, many minutes later as the party really starts to pick up.

Mark, Chris and Felix have begun to sing and a bunch of campers are joining them loudly, drowning out Dan's words to anyone but me. My heart jumps at first because I he's leaning in so abruptly, right here and now, but the the words he says end up being almost better.

"You have the dumbest smile on your face." He teases. He grins at me and reaches out his arm to run a thumb over my cheek, setting his fingers under my chin and lifting it.

I shake my head. I don't doubt it at all, he'd probably tease me even more horrendously if he knew what I was thinking about.

"Thanks." I answer, not at all hiding the gooey expression that's overtaking my features.

He snorts, slapping my cheek lightly and drawing back enough to look at me properly. "Thanks? I'm making fun of you."

"That's not my problem." I argue.

He rolls his eyes, taking another drink out of my cup and then shoving me over so that he can sit on my log too. I feel his leg press up against mine and then his head is back on my shoulder, both of us observing how the crowd has seemingly flocked around us. Everybody's backs are to us as if they could sense the introverts, blocking us out of the conversation leaving us isolated while everyone goes on loudly around us. We're like giddy teenagers, the ones that annoy everyone by clinging to each other like there's no one else besides them in the world.

"What are you thinking about, Phil?" He chides, a knowing smile on his face. "You've got this look on your face."

I glance around to see if anyone's watching. For the most part I don't even care, I just want this time to myself.

"What do you think?" I ask lightly. "You."

He doesn't immediately manage a composed expression, meaning I see the way his eyes widen and his cheeks blush before he looks away. In any normal circumstance this would probably one of the most cringe-worthy things I could have ever said to him, but right now it just feels meaningful because it's the truth. He doesn't even seem to notice the cliché anyway.

"Y-yeah?" He's staring so determinedly at the treetops you'd think they held the cure to the virus, clearly flustered as if he can't believe anyone's mind would ever think of him. I hold in a laugh and squeeze his hand, leaning forward when he turns his head to brush my lips over his cheekbone.

"Mhm."

"Care to be more specific?" He attempts valiantly, mustering up the gall to shoot me a cheeky expression as I lean back with the same smile.

I take the wine out of his hand and take another sip just to feel the buzz in my veins, wincing at the flavour and handing it back much to his amusement.

"I'm just so proud of us, I guess." I say, surprising even myself. "Mostly of you. I can't believe we've come so far."

It's literally like a silent picture. His eyes go to my face and stay there, the grin he'd been repressing breaking through as he shakes his head gently. He presses our shoulders together and shuts his eyes for a breath, hands curled around both of our cups.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I say with a nod. "I can't believe we're just sitting here planning to take down the confederation after escaping Wirrow and kissing each other and finding out so many things in one night."

He groans and rolls his shoulder, stretching a bit to get the stiffness of sitting out of his limbs.

"Would you mind if I kissed you again?" He drawls out, leaning close to my face and raising his eyebrows.

I feel the heat surge to my cheeks and I whip my head around to see if Chris or Mark is listening, but they're still distracted.

"Shut up!" I protest, shoving him and watching him double over in cackles.

Of course I do. I protest internally. You bloody know that, you idiot.

It's like he can hear my thoughts, or at least guess them. He nudges me good-naturedly, even as I bury my head in my hands. Of course he'd ask me something like that, Dan with his underhanded sense of humor and inconvenient, horrifically annoying timing.

I wind my arm around his waist and pull him closer to my side, wondering if it might be possible to just hold him forever, infinitely in front of this fire with wine and without worries.

Now all I can think about is lips, how close they are and how warm they are. It's unfair, really, Dan has so much on me. I'm so busy thinking about how nice it would be to just pull him forward right now, to show everyone here what we are. I'm not going to, though. I know Dan and I know his boundaries, the first time an exceptional circumstance. He may be confident now, happier too, but he's still my socially anxious, cautious Dan, the one who means the world to me and who I would never deliberately make uncomfortable. I'll just have to tough it out and wait until we're back in the tent again, and then I can do whatever he wants.

He meets my eyes, expression shifting from joking from what I can only describe as soft. It's a new feeling, like I'm the only thing that matters in this inky darkness punctuated by the ring of fire and this sea of vibrant people. All these survivors.

Suddenly I'm wondering how much comfort matters to him in this moment. For me anyway, I'd almost be content to tell anybody who we are.

We haven't told anybody I'm immune yet except Jack, who is a friend of Mr. Howell's. As of last night the confeds don't even know I'm alive yet, and that's something we can't afford to have out. I'm thinking about this now as Dan's fingers lower to brush lightly over the wrapping on my arm, fingertips tapping on the coarse fabric where the material is a bit darker. I'm alive and I wasn't meant to be, it makes me feel powerful.

I'm about to voice these thoughts, fingers searching for Dan's distracted hand to hold it again, when the shadow of someone blocks the light of the fire nearby, casting Dan and I into semi-darkness.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" A voice sounds suddenly from behind me.

I jump more than I probably should, which scares Dan more than the abrupt question. He throws a hand over his heart and my hand drops from his waist before I can think about it, old reflexes still a bad habit I need to kick. My body still forgets that I can touch Dan non-platonically in front of people now, not quite up to speed with my heart. I can't help but laugh when the speaker jumps too, stumbling back a bit in surprise.

I turn my head to see a girl who looks to be younger than Dan, probably fifteen or sixteen and looking amused in any case, standing confidently with her arms folded as she looks down at us.

"What?" Dan blurts out, eloquent as ever. I facepalm and he shoves me, looking offended that I'd make him look stupid.

The girl just looks amused.

"Sorry." She says with a half-smile, gesturing at the log that Dan had previously been occupying, making it evident why she's over here. "They're doing shots over there and the yelling is making my head hurt, I was gonna ask if I could take that log over there."

Dan looks at where she's pointing and seems to debate internally for a moment, as if he's suddenly not going to be squishing me off of my seat so we can continue sitting pressed together.

"Yeah, go ahead." I say for him, and she looks so relieved I know it was definitely the right thing to say. Dan shakes his head fondly, amused that I'm speaking for him now, apparently.

"Thank god." She breathes. "You have no idea how awkward it is to not drink alcohol when everyone you hang out with does."

She strides past us and settles onto the log, nodding in thanks and eyeing us curiously as she sits down. I in turn observe her, wondering where her parents are and who she is.  Her hair is tied back in braids and her thin frame is dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, perhaps the most notable thing about her so far has been the way she carries herself. She's speaking to us as if we're her friends, when she's probably never even seen us before.

I wonder if I should say something interesting until my focus is redirected.

"Well actually, those idiots are our friends." Dan supplies unexpectedly, looking so cheerful I wonder if he's just riding on the high of tonight. He gestures to Mark, who Felix and Chris have lifted into the air and are now parading around a group of laughing campers. "So I could understand where you're coming from."

His eagerness encourages me and I remember him taking my wine, leaping in the opportunity to tease him in front of others.

"Says the alcoholic." I point out jokingly, gesturing to both his cup and mine sat at his feet where he'd put them.

His eyebrows go up and he shakes his head.

"I'm not drunk!" He protests. He looks to the girl who is definitely smiling now, as if seeking support from a her to oppose me. "Do I look drunk to you?"

She laughs, looking at him appreciatively.

"Oh no, not at all." She jokes, glancing at me with raised eyebrows. I snort and Dan starts to protest, arguing that he's only had two cups before she adds on, "not like those guys, anyway."

"Your cheeks are a bit pink." I observe. "So I guess we know who the real lightweight is."

He shakes his head again, crossing his arms. "I am not. Not like the girl's friends or Mark."

"Still."

"Don't listen to a word he says." Dan tells her loudly. "He has a personal vendetta against me. Everything he says is lies."

The girl is properly laughing now, grinning at him which makes me feel weirdly elated. It's spurring off the pride in him I'd felt earlier I'm sure, but it doesn't make it any less nice to see physical evidence of how much Dan has changed in the positive sense. She smiles at him and he smiles back, willingly talking to someone else in a friendly way beyond our companions.

I think again about how much my feelings for him actually encompass, the adoration swelling and ballooning like a volcanic eruption.

"So who would you two be?" The girl asks curiously, smiling kindly as she shifts to cross one knee over the other, unwinding the braid in her hair as if to release the tension of being stuck in this crowd. She finishes unwinding and then moves onto the next one, looking far more comfortable now that someone's made a joke. "I'm from the eastern camp, I don't know anybody."

"Neither do we." Dan confides with a shrug. "Just the medic guy."

"Everybody knows Jack, I think." She informs us. "There aren't a lot of doctors left."

I nod, knowing this is probably true and then moving to the original question, raising my eyes to meet hers properly for this introduction.

"My name is Phil." I greet, smiling formally and then looking over. I decide to just intro us both, knowing how Dan feels around new people. "And this is Dan, my-"

I look over at him. His eyes flick to mine and I see him smile sheepishly, though I don't know what to get out in way of words. I realize I don't know where I'm going with this, not entirely sure what Dan is to me anymore.

I hadn't really thought about it. The moment had been planned in my mind in a hundred different ways, all the ways I'd finally tell Dan what he meant to me, but it's never occurred to me when I'd actually witness that moment.

The girl raises her eyebrows. Both braids gone, she brushes the hair behind her shoulder as if she's just cast off all the worries she's had before sitting down. It looks like she feels genuinely more relaxed this way, like Dan with his curls. More genuine.

I scramble to think of something neutral, not wanting to reduce him to a friend by any means but also wishing I hadn't added without thinking. Now she looks expectant, though she's trying not to.

"My... Dan." I fumble and she laughs, Dan's eyes shooting up to my face to gaze at me fondly.

I shake my head and feel warmth spread in my chest, though I'm embarrassed too. I try to think of something better to say but my brain feels slow, eyes going back to him helplessly as he stifles a grin. He looks far too cheeky when he turns back to face her as if he has to speak for me after all.

Luckily Dan is thinking a lot more clearly than I am at this point. He rolls his eyes and takes my hand suddenly, lightning fast and squeezing my fingers so that I barely have to time to register his confidence. The quickest way to get rid of any misunderstanding, I don't think the message is missed as he breaks that blurry line and the girl's eyes follow his motions.

"-his boyfriend." He finishes, not even thinking twice about it.

My heart does what I can only describe as a skydive, flipping over in a way that feels biologically impossible. I just barely stop myself from gaping, letting him clutch my hand whilst probably hosting the most punched-out expression known to man. Now is not the time to be getting flustered but it happens all the same, my heart skips a beat and I nod vigorously, for whatever reason just in awe.

I look at him and he smirks at me, as if to ask, well what else could we be at this point?

"Oh my god, I thought so." She laughs, shaking her head. Then here eyes widen and she backtracks, though I can't do anything but grin. "I mean- sorry. I've just never seen two people look so smitten before. I didn't wanna ask in case you weren't together, but I guess that's fine. I'm so jealous, I wish someone would look at me like that."

Dan blushes and I squeeze his hand, pretending I could send a silent message to my past self to tell him he'd one day hear these words.

"I'm glad you think so." I say without thinking. "It's been a crazy year."

Crazy bring the understatement of the century. We literally had to fight to love each other, twenty four hours doesn't change the severity of that feeling.

"You're making us feel validated." Dan clarifies. "Long time coming, I think."

And with those words, he clears any doubts in my mind that he's not taking what he says seriously, that he genuinely loves me enough to share me and him with other people.

She shrugs. "You're welcome."

I wonder why I feel so calm and comfortable around this perfect stranger until I notice the long, mousy hair and the curious eyes. She seems like an outsider in a good way, and something about her demeanour reminds me of Marzia, but also of Cat. It's that curious but cheeky energy, that rare phenomenon of a perfect stranger that somehow feels more familiar than people you've known for years. Maybe it's just the way she speaks to Dan, but I find myself smiling wider as my heart begins to flutter and in this moment I feel proud, proud of everything. What Dan and I are, and who I am even if this moment was unplanned.

"Forgive me for saying so, but you two are so cute together." She adds, looking embarrassed by the wording. "I get that you're adults or whatever and you probably don't wanna be called that, I just- sometimes you see people who look so genuinely happy to be with each other, I decided to ask if I could sit by you cause you looked so calm."

There's silence for a moment as we process that and that stupid smile is still plastered to my face, truthfully I don't mind what she's said at all.

"Yeah?" Dan asks in an adorably awkward voice, making me realize he's flustered. He lifts our overlapped fingers so that they're resting on his knee, as if he needs to be overwhelmingly romantic all the time from now on to make up for what time we've lost. It makes me so impossibly happy because he looks so proud of it. He's proud to have me. He's displaying us for her to see.

She nods. "Yep. I trusted you not to make me more susceptible to zombies than I already am."

"Well good." I say with a glance at Dan. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Phil and Phil's Dan." She says formally, definitely joking as Dan snickers quietly. I wonder if we haven't just made a new friend. "I'm Harley. Here, queer, full of existential fear, and I'm literally here because crowds are overwhelming."

I blink, stifling a laugh upon hearing what might be the most relatable phrase I've ever heard being uttered in this entire apocalypse. I double check to make sure this girl is real, noting that she is in fact even holding a drink like everyone else here.

Dan looks to me and I can see the utter disbelief in his expression, eyebrows raised and eyes wide as he looks back at her with a completely new kind of respect.

"Same?" He exclaims, laughing as she grins and throws up her hands in a hallelujah kind of gesture.

"You're the Dan and Phil, aren't you?" She asks eagerly. "The ones who escaped the confeds with the smugglers. I didn't even realize you were right here while I've been sitting across from you all night. You're like two tall dorks with emo haircuts."

I have to stifle my laugh with my hands, Dan's burst of laughter totally overtaking mine. My hand goes unconsciously to my hair and I fuss with it, feeling sheepish.

"My guess is you were expecting badasses, weren't you?" I inquire, to which she shrugs her shoulders innocently.

"You guys are badass." She reasons. "I have so much respect for you. You know there's people all over the city who have heard of you now? Good to see the rumours are true that you're alive and stuff."

I nod, still amused by the previous conversation.

"People know about us?" Dan exclaims, looking torn between being thrilled and terrified. "What do they say?"

"They just know who you are." She says offhandedly. "Your escape from the bunker was the hugest thing, they had guys in our camp looking for you and the citizens here put it together pretty quick that one of you was immune. No one has ever escaped before, especially not when it's from the Man."

I try to process this, trying to imagine the whole city taking action because two people had managed to get out with their friends. A beacon of hope in a hopeless town. I try to imagine that. I can't.

"His name is Wirrow." I inform her. "He told us he was a guy running a survivor's operation, when he was actually just holding our friends hostage under the guise of getting us all in one place. It was kind of a fluke we got out, our friend is half life who used to work for him."

"No kidding." She breathes. "What was it like in there?"

"Bad once we found out what was going on." Dan admits. "They were really nice until we caught onto their plans, then they drugged us and accidentally revealed a lot of their plans I think in the process."

Her eyes are wide and she mostly just looks stunned, staring between us which makes me feel like I've done a lot more than I have. There have been quite a few failures too.

"I still can't believe I'm meeting you." She says honestly. "Everybody was so inspired by that night. They've been building up this gathering ever since, you guys basically proved the confeds have a weakness. Then you escaped them again, word got out that they were storming the underground. Like I said, we have spies. People found out about you guys and quit their loyalty for the confederation, earned us a whole bunch of double agents."

Disbelief. I'm full of complete and utter disbelief. "No way."

"I'm here with my dad for this." She explains. "He's the only person I have left that I know of, we were visiting London when shit went down."

"Where is he?" Dan asks curiously, very carefully not mentioning his own family. I have hope that his dad is still able to be rescued, the wouldn't kill him when they want Dan so badly.

Harley points and I see a man who resembles but doesn't look exceptionally like her, talking to another guy who looks far more drunk than him. He has a kind face and appears to be slightly distracted, probably wondering where his daughter went judging by the confused-but-not-overly-concerned expression of his face.

"He might not look it, but he's really good at hand-to-hand." She says proudly. "He taught me everything I know, probably why I'm still alive honestly."

I notice the knife in its holder tied to her hip, making me respect her even more. For a kid barely high school age she looks like she knows how to survive, in a good way. And again I'm impressed.

"Do you know what they're actually planning to do with all these people?" I ask eagerly, realizing we've just found a valuable resource. This girl is definitely not confederation and seems a lot more honest than Jack or even Beard and Earring, who all seem to have some kind of hidden side despite their dedication to the cause. I like this lack of formality, this feeling of friendship more like backup than an alliance that needs us for a power move.

She nods, looking thrilled to be helping us of all people. It's weirdly gratifying.

"The confederation operates out of London. The goal is to destroy the leadership and unwind the operation itself, so that nobody can take over and keep it running. While we can't stop the apocalypse from happening we can stop it from going further, so that people can rebuild and slowly choke the zombies out."

I'd never thought of it that way. The apocalypse started here, it could end here too. If we stopped Wirrow and captured anyone in power, alliances would panic and likely resign their loyalty to avoid the punishment. Chris had said once that a lot of people stay with the confeds out of fear of opposing them. Without a leader, they'd be free.

"That's right." Dan breathes, looking amazed in the same way I feel.

I look at Harley with a whole new appreciation, seeing her smiling sheepishly at our probably dramatic reactions. I can't help it, it feels so good to finally know what we could do.

"You know you're the first person to ever give us a straight answer, right?" I say eagerly, suddenly wishing I had some way to show her how much we needed this. "Nobody has told us what was going on and assumed we got it the whole time."

She shakes her head, looking surprised. "No, I didn't. But it's probably because they want something from you. If they don't give you enough information then you're bound to take feedback and do more of what they advise you, whereas if you know the plan you'll obviously do better on your own."

I realize that makes complete sense. It's not that the leaders here are manipulating us but they obviously have an idea that they think is right, so keeping us out of the know means they can give us the information they want to. And while it's in good intent, I can remember all too clearly how frustrating it had been before the junkyard when we hadn't known at all what to do. I'd had no idea so many people know about what we've done. Now that I do, I feel excited.

"It's like having parents hovering me again." Dan groans. Harley laughs and looks at us properly this time, and I realize she has very bright eyes, more visible now that her face isn't partially hidden by shadow.

"Glad to be of service." She replies. "If you ever need help with anything I'd love to help out, you guys have done so much."

"Not really." Dan protests, blushing. "We're not much, well Phil is, but we've mostly just managed not to die and had a lot of close calls."

Her expression softens and I see a strange understanding there, a knowing that there's a message beneath that dismissal, a real meaning that Dan doesn't want to convey. I've never known anyone but me to get that before.

"None if us know what we're doing." She points out. "You've done better than anyone else here. If anything, you should be telling them what to do. After all, you've come face to face with the guy, and you made it."

Dan looks stunned, round eyes fixed in her almost as if he believes her. And he should, he has done all those things, I can't believe someone has managed to put his courage into words like that. Harley smiles at him and I see her push a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly embarrassed that her sentiment got such a genuine reaction. The Dan effect.

A voice calls her name and I realize as her head turns that I don't want her to go yet, I want to ask her a million questions and hear her encourage Dan. I don't know what it is but there's something different about Harley, she's way past her own age and if nothing else, she seems like she'd make the best ally. She knows things and she can fight, she's also funny and friendly to both of us. I can't believe we've just encountered her by accident.

"That's my dad." She says quickly. "I'm staying here right up until the invasion. If you guys need me I'll look out for you okay?"

"Of course!" I exclaim. Dan nods assent, smiling up at her. "You will talk to us again, right?"

"Please talk to me again." She pleads, saying without saying that she definitely will. "Nobody else here has a modicum of sanity like you two."

We assure her that we will and then her father calls her again, making her turn quickly and sprint past the talking crowd. I watch her go with Dan's hand still a weight against my palm and a feeling of overwhelming calm suddenly, not even realizing how one of our biggest stresses was just so easily resolved.

With Harley's retreat I see Dan decide to follow along similar lines, turning to me and speaking in a low voice.

"Let's go over there where it's quiet." He mumbles, tipping his head towards the tree near the gate, the one I'd comforted him by all those days ago after he'd met with his dad. "Forget this partying and attack planning I just want to be with you for a little bit."

My heart flips in a way it's never really done before, I nod, trying not to look too eager even though I can't wait to be alone with him. I take his hand when he offers it to me and watch as he looks back to Mark and the others, who are watching us stand up the moment they catch our movements.

The tree is fairly far away, enough so that the light of the fire only just reaches it. Our friend eyes us as we step past him hand in hand, trying to decide whether he should smirk knowingly at us or ask what we're doing.

"Where are you going Dan?" Felix asks him, leaning over Chris's shoulder to get a good look at us. He looks so happy it's overwhelming, I know if Marzia we're here she would've smiled fondly at how content he looks surrounded by friends and strangers.

"You guys are too much." Dan announces, shooting a joking look of exasperation their way to tease them for being so cheeky tonight. "Can't deal with your horrible drunk singing anymore. We're out."

He drops my hand to sidestep past them, just as we move close enough to speak.

"You certainly are." Mark grumbles.

I can't stop the laughter that breaks through even as we get past and Dan smacks him on the back of his head, only making him laugh harder and drawing a whoop of approval from Chris.

Dan makes a show of re-grabbing my hand and tugging me away from them, a few people whistling at our display. We don't know anybody, but it doesn't even matter. I let his fingers close around my skin and stumble in his wake, retreating into the darkness of the campsite with my heart glowing vibrantly. The voices fade and the cool air washes over us, and I can't help breaking into a run with his hand in mine like a carefree child.

We don't even make it to the tree before we're laughing, bursting into muffled giggles as we simultaneously slap our hands over each other's mouths and try to shut the other up with the knowledge that someone has to be in bed by this hour. Dan's palm is over my lips but huffs of sound are still bursting out of me even as we pass the tents, sincerely hoping nobody is trying to sleep at this moment tonight. God help them if they are.

Halfway there we kick off our shoes, letting our bare feet skim along the soft, slightly long blades of grass along the path as we carry the runners in our hands. It takes longer than it should to get to where we're going seeing how Dan tries to shove me to the ground twice on the way over, just so I can stumble and he can pretend to heroically save me.

Needless to say, we're a bloody mess by the time we collapse on the ground next to the tree, my sides and cheeks aching with laughter I haven't held in so long. There's stars overhead and a sliver of moon, the grass is cool but cushiony as we lie back.

He flops onto his back and I land against his stomach, folding my hands over my chest and laughing into his shirt. I lift my leg so that I'm climbing into his lap, hands braced on either side of him so that he's looking up and I'm looking down.

There's a moment of silence where we just look at each other, but like a lid on a pot it doesn't take long for the giggles to overflow.

"Boyfriends?!" I exclaim, breaking the quiet in complete exasperation. "You couldn't even give me a heads-up before you made that decision? Do you think my fragile heart can take that?"

He snorts and slaps a hand to his mouth, stifling the embarrassment that's bursting out of him in high pitched giggles. His head tips back and I can see his shoulders curl in as he shakes with the sheer force of it, literally the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

He keeps laughing and I'm caught up in it, running fingers through his curls.

"I hardly think you minded." He drawls eventually, reaching up and squeezing my cheeks in his hands.

"I didn't." I agree haughtily. "But don't most people, I don't know- discuss when they're dating?" This statement is contradicted by the elation in my tone, the need to confirm it racing in my chest.

He makes a noncommittal sound.

"Nah, not us. I mean, you can call us the two not straight guys who mutually pined and them half died and made out in a friendly way when life was restored because romance, but somehow that sounds fake to me."

My mind goes off track at this wording of what was a recently a very major part of our life. My face burns and I try to hide my face in his shirt.

"I hate you." I complain, not wanting to laugh because I want to win this argument.

He chuckles, brushing his fingers through my hair.

"False. I am the stars in your sky, and I am just getting back at you for all the annoying things you do." He retorts, but there's no malice to his words.

I lower my head to press a kiss to his nose, making his face scrunch as he smiles.

"You pretend I'm annoying but I know that you love it. You told me everything, good luck ever taking any of that back." I tell him.

"You can't take back the fact that you think I'm beautiful." He shoots, grinning wickedly at me and finally squirming out from under my weight, sitting up with his back against the trunk. I blush at that, so not expecting it, and he looks immensely proud of himself for embarrassing me.

I have to admit he's done a good job. It's true that I'd said those exact words in a vulnerable moment last night, but two can play at that game.

"You are beautiful." I respond casually, like it's no big deal. "I'm just being observant."

My fingers lift to brush along his neck and he jumps minutely, not expecting the touch. He does relax after I run my finger over the skin a few times, getting used to the sensation and letting me draw him nearer. It's warm and smooth, delicate enough that I can feel his pulse when I press in with my fingertips. I press a little more firmly just to feel it, wondering if we could merge into one steady, single heartbeat.

I can see his eye twitch minutely at the pressure, trying to keep his expression neutral, but it's not because he's uncomfortable. I wonder if anyone's ever done this for him before. His neck is sensitive, but he closes his eyes in content as I slide my hands off the skin and up into his hair, thumbs skimming his pale cheeks. He leans into the touch.

"You think so?"

I draw back my fingers and just stare at his face instead, watching his eyelids flutter as he opens his eyes slowly and looks back up at me like he's waking from a particularly calming dream.

"I know so." I tell him.

I don't look away and I see his eyebrows go up in surprise, caught by the sentiment he didn't expect.

"Yeah, yeah." He averts his eyes, embarrassed by such blatant affection. "Get off me and tell it to our friends. They'll be a lot more interesting than staring at my face."

I glance back at the campfire where Felix and Mark are sitting with a crowd of strangers, laughing uproariously and smiling so widely it should be impossible. It's like they're riding the high of hope and excitement, a victory that some time ago we'd never believe was possible. I shake my head gently and press my shoulder against his, fairly evident that that won't be happening.

He blushes, shoving my shoulder and grinning shyly.

"Shove off." He mumbles. "I'm boring."

"Yeah right." I tease. "Why would I go drinking old bitter wine that I don't even like when I could be spending time with my favourite boyfriend in the whole world?"

He blushes even harder at that, shaking his head furiously and looking at the ground. It's amusing to me that one word could be so monumental to him, especially when he was the one who'd said it first.

"Your favourite?" He quips eventually, after trying and failing a couple times to feign composure. He nudges me with his elbow and quirks an eyebrow, the look dripping with affection. "Are there others? I've still won?"

"Yep. I'm off to see them right now." I joke, dislodging his arm and sitting up clumsily.

"I'm all you've got, you spork!" He exclaims. "You're stuck with me."

I shake my head, moving away as if I'm going to stand and using his shoulder as leverage to get almost to my feet.

"Plenty of sporks in the drawer."

He rolls his eyes. "That doesn't even make sense."

He sits back with a smirk on his face, folding his arms and straightening up as if he's actually even made a comeback.

But then the cocky expression is wiped right off his features as I sweep forward unexpectedly and kiss him, bringing our lips together unnecessarily dramatically so that his cheeks are squished.

I kiss him long enough for him to react before I'm laughing again, pulling away to assess the damage. It's quick and it's clumsy and he's so surprised he can't really kiss back, and I'm losing it at the way his eyes widen and his face goes a brilliant red. Blame it on excitement or a weird burst of courage but I can't help but grin at the satisfying result. I swallow down the euphoria that shoots through me at knowing I've done this, that I can do this anytime.

"Aw, you're blushing!" I tease between giggles, seeing him glare at me from between his fingers without any fire. "Look at this, actual Dan Howell blushing. You think you're tough but you're actually just adorable. At least you thought you were trying."

He throws both arms up to cover his head, burying himself in the folds of his sleeves even as I try to pull his arms away.

"That's not fair." He protests. "Kissing is cheating." His fingers are clenched so tightly around his sleeves you'd think I was out to kill him, his old habit of hiding vulnerability making its reappearance.

I slide an arm behind his neck and smile softly, thumb stroking over the curls at the back of his head. He's still hiding behind his arms. "I genuinely don't think you're complaining."

"I will fight you." He grumbles, voice resigned and muffled by the fabric. "I hate you so much."

I shake my head, somehow doubting this. His embarrassment is too much right now. It's too cute, too perfect, I want to bring him right back and finish what I started.

"Mm." I agree. "Keep telling yourself that."

"I'm not." He pouts, crossing his arms as if to squash out the cuteness.

I wrap my arms around him, to which he squirms in reaction. "Yes you are."

"I'm not."

"It's too late now, I've already seen it. Come out of your arm cave, I'm not leaving until you do it." I implore him, just wanting to see the blush again because it's too funny to let him hide. This is my best friend. Cold, closed-off Dan, reduced to a fumbly cowering mess because of me. Happiness doesn't even begin to describe me right now.

"Nope." He chirps.

"Daaaaaan."

"Phil, I'm serious."

I try for a more commanding voice. "Daniel."

He drops his arms suddenly, lunging forward and knocking me onto my back, knees pinning me down and his hands on my wrist so that I'm stuck with grass tickling my neck. He has me held fast and I stare up in surprise at him, almost expecting to told off for being an idiot.

He brings his lips down so that they're almost touching mine, speaking softly in a way that sends shivers down my spine as his eyelids drop and his breath mingles with mine in the space between us. It's unexpected, and it nearly knocks me out with the shock of it.

"You're right," he says slowly, his words soft against my mouth and making me feel all sorts of butterflies and other things that I wasn't expecting so soon after a bit of drink. "I don't."

I gulp.

His hands are on my chest and I can feel his body weight resting above me, completely uncaring that there's dozens of people around. His closeness is taunting me and I want overwhelmingly to kiss him again, chest aching with the need to. I want to wrap my arms around him and bring us together, hold him until my arms get tired and then some and kiss him breathless because he's mine. He's mine, I want everyone to know that, want to shout it from the rooftops.

Then he pulls away just as easily as he'd dropped down, and I curse inwardly at the heat creeping into my cheeks.

He cups my cheek in his palm, curling his fingers as if to frame my shame. Even before he says it, I can feel the warmth of my skin.

"Oops, you're blushing." He quips in a satisfied tone, before sitting up rapidly and leaving me flustered with grass in my hair.

Factoring in servings, he's only had a glass and a bit of wine, just a softening on the edge of his nerves, but he looks so alive. I almost want to tell him that his eyes are shining, that he looks absolutely gorgeous with that smile on his face.

"Admit it again." he quirks knowingly, a satisfied expression on his face. "You love me."

For a couple of heartbeats, there's silence. My heartbeat thrums evenly in my chest and I sit up slowly, searching for his hand nearby.

"I love you a lot." I deadpan, dropping all pretence at the seriousness of my statement. "I don't need to admit it if that's what I think."

He blinks. It's like his systems have stopped working and he's currently rebooting, eyes slightly dreamlike in a way that I'd definitely be making fun of if I didn't feel exactly as punched out.

"Well that's cute as hell." He exclaims, still trying to seem tough with his snappy retorts but his soft expression the dead giveaway. Disbelieving, completely baffled. The one that tells me he needs to hear it so much.

I smirk. "I'm good for that."

"You're supposed to answer me like a decent person, not say something cheeky." He complains. "I'm going to be crying soon if you don't shut up. I'm supposed to be emotionless. This is so bad for my cultivated image."

"Don't worry about it, I still know you're badass." I assure him. "You're just impossibly adorable while you're doing it."

I chuckle a little at the reality of this description. That's about the most accurate way to describe Dan that I've ever come up with. Badass, but adorably so. It's funnier to me than it should be, I can't stop giggling and I end up having to press myself against him to keep from toppling over.

He doesn't seem quite as amused as I am, scoffing and shrugging his arm around my shoulder.

"Who but you would think to describe me as adorable?" He protests, turning my head so he can rest our foreheads together. "Who are you, Phil Lester or some hopeless romantic?"

I want with everything in me to kiss him right now, but that would mean moving from this embrace which is so gentle and calming it feels almost just as intimate. His skin is warm and I can feel other parts of our bodies in contact too, shoulders and arms pressed together and his hand on my knee. Every bit of it is amazing, I almost want to shut my eyes and just let myself feel for a while if not for our current banter.

"Badass, too." I remind him, assuring there's a bit of honesty in this assessment.

"I think Harley is more badass than me." He admits.

"Oh," I counter, cupping his chin. "You totally are."

He doesn't look convinced, I shake my head.

"Get out." He groans. "You're so not funny."

Somehow I doubt he means that, but I decide to pick on him anyway.

I move as if I'm going to pull away and his eyes widen comically, just as I'd expected. He shoots out his hands in a clumsy attempt to grab me and ends up bunching up the fabric at my chest with his fingers, keeping me from detaching. His eyes are wide like he thinks I truly intend to leave him and I almost want to scold him for being so daft.

"I'm joking!" He says quickly, tugging on my arm to bring me back and wrapping his arms around my waist. "Love me. Give me attention, it makes me feel validated."

I roll my eyes, turning away from him anyway even as he makes a huff of protest.

"Nah. I think I'd rather be social. "I quip airily. I keep my eyes on him even though I'm lying, effectively contradicting my own statement in case he has any doubts.

He raises his eyebrows plaintively. "Phil."

I try to keep a deadpan expression despite his whiny voice, but god damn is it hard to ignore. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. I give it a valiant effort, turning my back as if I truly intend to extend the silence.

"Guess what." He persists.

"Talking is so important." I add hurriedly. I'm trying so hard to tease him even though my resolve is crumbling, knowing he probably knows I'm dying to whip around and find out what his cheeky tone means. He's about to say something to get a rise out of me and I don't think I could handle that right now.

He leans into my space so I have no choice but to look at him and then smirks at me, chin poking into my chest and fingers tickling my sides. "You're my boyfriend."

I mean to react coolly but it's the fact that the words have come out of his mouth. When he says words they all sound different. They're gentler, softer, more enchanting and feeling laced when he's talking. All I can think is how I belong to him, how he wants to use the word and he's said it first.

"Wha..?" I squeak pathetically. I meant to be cool, but the words are lost in my mouth.

it's no use. With three simple words, I've been reduced back to jelly, and he knows it.

He tugs me back by my hood and then pulls me in by the middle, nudging his head into the softness of my stomach and wrapping his arms more tightly.

It's like he's released a cage of butterflies in my chest. There's a whirlwind feeling, a mass of tumbling feeling that's roaring and crying for release. It's wild and euphoric and feels like freedom, like being able to say anything I want to him for the first time ever.

"Dan." I squeak.

"There's nothing you can do about that." He continues, smiling enough to reveal the dimple. "Fucking deal with it. You're my boyfriend."

With his fingers splayed against my belly and his head pressed into my middle it's almost too much at once. I take a deep breath in and squeeze my fingers, breathing deeply and trying not to go crazy.

I make a frustrated sound and drop my hands, leaning down to wrap my arms around him and squeezing so tightly, spinning us to face around with the sheer force. He makes a sound of protest, still unaccustomed to being the receiver of such affection, but I'm just so goddamn happy.

"I can't deal with it!" I shout, face buried into his neck as we tumble back clumsily. "Do you even realize how crazy it is to hear you say that? Or are you just doing this to torture me?"

He smirks, snaking an arm around my waist and letting me lean against him.

At some point we've slouched down so that we're practically laying in the long grass, just barely sitting up enough to consider it sitting up.

"Of course I am," he answers, brushing his lips over the side of my cheek. "Please stop being so cute, it's embarrassing."

I think my heart is about to beat out of my chest. I glance around the camp but nobody's watching us, we have this moment all to ourselves.

"You're not embarrassed by me and you know it." I shoot back, a smirk winning over my smile at last. "You just don't want our masculine friends to judge you."

"Our masculine friends are drunk off their asses right now." He reminds me. He nestles into my shoulder and shoots a pointed look toward the fire, lifting a finger to trace my bottom lip.

I chuckle softly. "I suppose."

"And besides," he adds, "they literally watched out first kiss from start to finish instead of fucking off and giving us our privacy. Their opinions on this matter to me about as much as yours do."

I remember it suddenly and vividly in my head and flush, heart jumping at the mere thought. It's bad enough that I have to pretend that I'm not in disbelief at hearing the words our first kiss come from Dan's mouth, never mind remembering that actually yes, our friends definitely saw it.

How fitting that this would end up being our story. We both fell in love but were too lame to admit it. The classic outcome that I'm sure no one ever saw coming, no one at all unless you count pretty much everyone. I don't even care if I'm overdoing it, I'll never be over how happy this makes me, how glad I am that he's completely okay.

I try to go over it in my mind, to imagine the events and conversations of the last few weeks and try and draw some semblance of something, anything. Some kind of indication I missed that he felt this way all along, moments popping into my mind like flashbulbs.

I remember the taste of wine, the pounding of rain against a bar window. I remember lying in Dan's arms, already half asleep as he whispered a promise into my chest.

"I think... I think we need to wait. I probably shouldn't talk to you until I'm sober."

Memories of lips inches from mine, close enough to touch but never doing so. The feeling of the worn padding of the booth seats beneath us.

"What?" My confusion is evident. I need to stay awake. I need to know.

"Tomorrow. Don't say anything now. Ask me about it then."

It's on the tip of my tongue, it's aching in my chest to not be able to tell him. I want to tell him everything and so much more even if I am drunk and passionate and going to regret it later, and I'm almost angry at him for being so goddamn sensible. This feels like it might be my only opportunity to get it out and never have I so strongly meant it, my hesitation a beat too long.

"About what?"

"You know."

"I don't."

The way he stills for a moment, already half-gone and yet somehow more aware than he's ever been.

"I don't want you to forget, Phil."

"That's what you wanted to tell me when were drunk," I realize suddenly, seeing him flush under the realization. "When we were alone. You told me to wait so that I didn't forget. You meant that you..."

He stays silent and suddenly I'm not joking anymore, I feel so awake and so serious, words alone unworthy to express everything that encompasses my feelings towards Dan. I don't know if I could take knowing that he'd actually thought to tell me.

"You tried to tell me, I didn't suspect anything. Or am I crazy?" I ask, but it's less a question and more of a statement.

He looks down at his hands, and I feel a shudder in my heart that's something like disbelief. "I... didn't think you'd remember that."

My whole world spins dizzyingly.

"Well I only just remembered now." I answer honestly. "That's why you were so frustrated?" I tilt his chin with my hand so that he's looking at me, pink cheeks making his wide eyes look round and dark. "Is that really the reason? Dan..." I bite my lip and try to think if he's feeling ashamed, or worried, he's always so stubbornly self-assured in appearance but right now he looks a little uncertain. "You're kidding. You must have been so scared."

He rolls his eyes, but he won't meet mine. "How would you even know that?"

I can't tell if he's joking or not. I still haven't forgotten the literal years I spent pining after him.

"Think of who you're speaking to." I remind him. "Imagine my last two years."

His face dawns with realization and he shakes his head, trying to process it all at once.

"I had to tell you." He mumbles hurriedly. "I had to say it with you nearby me, just that once if not at all. I had to do it at least one time."

"Oh my god." I gasp softly. "Holy shit. That's amazing."

He shakes his head, blushing deeply. "Not really. It didn't help you at all."

"Didn't help?!" I cry, my expression incredulous. I thought this was equally monumental to both of us. "Maybe I didn't know it then but I'm imploding now. You actually meant-?"

"Yes!" He shouts, giving up completely. "Yes, I fucking did. I meant that I was in love with you, even though you had no idea what was going on. I only mumbled it, I couldn't make myself say it any louder. Okay?"

"Sure." I mumble dumbly. "Yeah. That's fine. That's totally fine."

He shakes his head dubiously, hands moving up to hide his face.

"Oh no you don't." I tease, catching one of them and kissing the tips of his fingers.

He groans in frustration, yanking his hands back.

"You're killing me." He mumbles, glaring into the side of my head.

I shake my head and just look at what I can see of him. My vantage point lets me see the base of his chin and curves and dips of his neck and chest, pale brown and warm in the firelight. Tonight holds the yellow-orange light of a summer bonfire, rather than the bluish cool of autumn, winter, or rain. How very appropriate.

I sigh when I see his contented smile. If only we could be here and never have to leave again, I could stop time right in this moment and see him smile at me like that forever.

He suddenly goes still, the hand moving around my waist stopping and his body going stiff. He leans his cheek against my hair and takes a deep breath, surprising me with its suddenness.

"Can I say it... properly, this time?" He asks quietly, so nervous you'd think he was telling me his greatest secret. Maybe he is. I have a vague idea of what he's referring to but I'm not entirely sure, but at this moment in time, I don't think I could deny him anything. I hear the sounds of someone else moving around in the building, but they aren't here. I dip my head in a nod.

"Of course."

His hand finds mine and he links our fingers, squeezing gently as he relaxes against me, his heartbeat thrumming against my palm.

Maybe he is a little bit tipsy after all, because his expression is far too open and relaxed to ever be the Dan I've known for over a year. He sits up just enough to clumsily lay his head on my shoulder, turning his body so that his hand settles on my chest and he's gazing up at me.

"I love you, Phil." he admits softly.

My heartbeat gets a bit faster, eyes meeting his genuine ones with the realization that he's not nervous anymore. He looks confident, his expression tender and full of so much. We sit together in the grass with the celebration sounds behind us, oblivious to anything else but each other as if we're in a dream. There's a sated silence hovering over us both.

I can't believe I've heard that. No matter how many times he says it or how many times I tell him it will always feel this way I'm sure. Like something beautifully surreal.

I turn my head and laugh softly, resting the sides of our foreheads together. I can't believe it. I have to close my eyes just to calm the feeling, wanting to laugh and cry simultaneously as tears well in my eyes.

"You said that already." I say stupidly. He laughs.

"I know." He whispers. It goes without explanation. I feel it too.

I realize he's completely fine but the words are building up inside me even though he knows well enough what I'm feeling. I pull him into my arms.

"I love you too." I mumble, tentatively pressing my lips to the curls on the back of his neck.

"I love you." He repeats, straightening up and pressing our foreheads together properly, drawing me close with his hand.

He continues talking, unable- it seems, to stop himself. His grip on my hand grows tighter.

"I love you. I love you so goddamn much, okay? I was so stupid for thinking I could just keep it down forever, like I honestly thought it was all in my head. I didn't think you'd ever... I thought I'd just have to hide it. It's so scary to admit, I can't believe that you know."

I remember that time when we'd been alone in that attic, the moments before the zombies and the separation and the dog when I'd thought nothing was going on between us.

"Me too." I remind him shakily, though now I'm about three heartbeats away from sobbing. I'm so full of love and emotion, it hurts to contain it.

"You're the most beautiful person in the whole world." He says weakly. There's an impossible amount of sentiment in his eyes and I don't even know how to take it, how to handle it, the mood shifting at blinding speed from humorous to surprisingly meaningful. "You make me feel like the happiest person ever. I don't even know how to say it."

My eyes widen at the smile on his face, at his expression. It's unadulterated happiness, brimming with meaning. It's impossible, it's so much in one moment.

"I think things like that about you too you know." I remind him, voice a note higher than it should be because I'm being hit with unexpected emotion. "I tried to hide it for a long time, but it's hard to hide yourself away when the object of your affections kisses you on the cheek when you're alone in a dark city."

His eyes widen in shock and I realize he's probably long forgotten that night in the first apartment, so many casual affections and the major ones happening since.

"Oh god." He groans, pressing his fingers to his temple. "That was not my proudest moment. I literally up and ran because I was too scared to see your face and then the next time I saw you you'd been bitten by a fucking Rottweiler."

"Thanks." I joke. "I think I took about two steps after it happened and then slumped against a wall, wondering what the hell just happened and hyperventilating."

His lips quirk up in a smile and I see him lean closer, pulled by some invisible force like he'd never want to hear anything else.

"So did I, if that's any comfort."

I have to take a moment to go over that admission. Dan losing his shit in the apartment simultaneously with me, for the same romantic reason. What is my life.

"Wait, you actually freaked out as much as I did?" I ask, trying to back up for a moment and clear this in my head.

"More, probably." He admits. "At that point I hadn't even considered that I was romantically attracted to anyone, never mind my best friend. I didn't even remember the leadup so much as suddenly wanting to do it. And I went through with it..."

A look crosses his face. I wait for him to finish before realizing he's trailed off, his mind having gone elsewhere and distracting him completely. Apparently something else has crossed his thoughts.

"Had it ever happened before?" I ask curiously.

He jolts back to attention when I raise my eyebrows at him, hurrying to explain his expression and blushing harder than he had been just earlier, tone filled with the caution of someone who's sure they're going to regret speaking.

"You're gonna fucking kill me when I tell you this." He mumbles sheepishly, hiding his face in shame, "but that's not the first time I did that."

I look at him wide-eyed and he pushes my head away weakly, flimsy nudges of the hand to take my fixed gaze off his face.

What is this? Is there some way I could have missed this, is he trolling me or twisting the truth?

"What do you mean?"

He bites his lip and shakes his head as if he's said too much, but then his mouth opens anyway.

"I kissed you back in the confederation bunker when they drugged us." He blurts.

My heart jumps and this time I do draw back to gape at him, his reactions to me every time I'd asked him about it suddenly making sense.

"It was you that got us to that abandoned hallway." He carries on determinedly, not looking me in the eye. "You were leaning against me all out of breath- I was so out of it. I was upset because I blamed myself for what that girl did to you, you know because she knew I was lying about us being together. She looked me in the eye when she taunted me for not being able to kiss you, in my mind I felt like I had to do something to make her believe me."

"What, to like, reverse the way she hurt me?" I ask dumbly, my mind not really connected to my mouth at the moment.

"God, I don't know!" He groans. "I don't know if I thought it was justice or if I was just that far gone. I remember I just sort of went for it once we were alone by that wall and I kissed you, right there, on the corner of your mouth."

He lifts up a finger and pokes the area right next to my lips, the place where there'd be a dimple if I had one at all. I feel dumb, weightless. My mind isn't functioning anymore and I find myself following the drawing back motion of his finger without really processing it.

"You said something like, what was that for? and after that I have no idea, I think we both passed out." He concludes. "I'd go and say something like I'm sorry for not telling you earlier but I was so relieved when I woke up and you'd forgotten."

I stare at him incredulously as he finishes his story, remembering all the times I'd tried to get it out of him what was so important that had happened in the confederation bunker, only to learn now that it's not at all what I expected. Now that I know, I feel like I don't even know where to start.

"That's what you didn't want to tell me?!"

He nods, face meek and positively flaming now.

"Every moment after it happened, all I could think about was how she wasn't even there when I did that." He says shamefully. "She'd have no way of knowing it happened and it felt so justified at the time. It's not like she would've just taken what she did back."

My heart is pounding and I am definitely in danger of crying now, shaking with the revelation, the confirmation that these aren't just my feelings.

"You're completely serious, aren't you?" I ask weakly.

"Why would I make that up?" He protests. "I passed out and then dreamed about the night we met over the internet. My mind never gives me a fucking break when it comes to you, it was like it wanted me to suffer for not knowing I was after you this whole time."

I shake my head dumbly and his gaze swells with affection, fingers dancing over my cheek.

He leans in to kiss me and I draw back with a smirk, teasing him purposefully while I drag out the euphoria I'm now feeling.

"Charming." I reply sweetly, purposefully shifting closer and crawling my fingers up his chest to distract myself by messing with him. "Even you knew you were mildly gay."

He swallows, looking down at where my fingers are coming closer to his neck.

"Gay when it comes to you." He argues crossly. "Do you actually secretly remember that and I now need to suffer?"

"No." I say honestly, my memory of that night drawing up a blank."I don't remember any of that at all. Hell, I wish I remembered that."

My memory goes as far as the moment where we'd escaped, my mind had been hazy enough then and I was only conscious because of the adrenaline. To think that he had actually done that so long ago, I could see why he'd tried to hide it.

"Well uh, that happened, and that was kinda long ago, but while I was drunk the action seemed highly justified." He concludes.

"Speaking of, how about we go back to the other drunken time." I say suddenly, making his eyes widen as our minds go to the exact same place. "Would it have killed you to actually kiss me when we were at that bar? You literally killed me with that fake, and that was when you were a much happier drunk."

You're a fucking dork. He'd told me. Moments after promising to tell a secret, leaning in so close I'd thought it was happening then.

"We're addressing everything tonight." He comments. He looks so embarrassed I want to save him, but I feels so good to finally get to hear the why of all this.

"We were drunk at a bar, I would have totally accepted it." I tell him. "I thought you'd hate me afterwards for thinking I'd be kissed."

"A wasted moment." He sighs. "But uh no, I couldn't have done it then. The idea of kissing you was fucking terrifying."

I want to roll my eyes at the suggestion, picturing myself and that word in the same sentence. It makes about as much sense as this entire year.

"Terrifying." I repeat.

The alcohol swirling in my veins is nowhere near severe enough to equate to the level of drunk we'd gotten at that bar all alone. I'm much more conscious of what's going on tonight, but it does make everything feel enhanced. I feel slow, happy, all the edges blurred so that the good things remain and the feelings that I'm having are all floating towards him.

"Not now." He scoffs, smirking at me.

"No, I agree." I exclaim with a laugh. "I'll still never get used to it. I was terrified too."

He flinches, making me start in surprise. I realize how vulnerable these admissions are making him feel and how dismissing the genuineness of the statement is hardly the thing to be doing. He isn't laughing, it reveals just how afraid he is of losing my reciprocation.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles. "I almost didn't get to tell you at all. I should have told you then."

I shake my head. We're not bringing that up tonight. I refuse to let it be mentioned, not when our spirits have so suddenly returned to a high.

"Dan, hey." I whisper, tilting up his chin and looking at him purposefully. I see the genuine worry clouding his eyes, the wound that'll take a long time to heal if it ever does at all. "You did. That's not a bad thing."

He looks at me hesitantly, then leans forward and presses our lips together.

I let my eyes fall shut, feeling him smile into the kiss. It's slow and it's gentle and devoid of anything frantic or passionate like before, just loving as he runs his thumb along my cheekbone, sighing contentedly and meeting my lips when I move to capture his again.

"I guess not." He agrees softly, mumbling against my mouth. My heart floats up into the sky.

I slide my hands up to his sides and hold myself in place against him, not wanting to miss this for a moment. It's nice, exactly what I needed after so many long months of fear and uncertainty. It's more calming than a hug, more meaningful than words could ever convey. The smell of the bonfire fades into the background and darkness fills my senses instead, in a peaceful way for the first time in so long with the feeling of his lips.

"God, you're just amazing." He breathes, sliding his hands into my hair.

Why are you perfect? Is all I can think. That however, is probably just too cheesy even by our standards to ever voice aloud. Maybe I just want it to myself. I don't know.

I shake my head, only wanting to be close again. I lean in and he giggles, forgetting everything else for a while. I've just pushed back his hair to kiss him properly, moving a hand to his cheek, when a voice shakes me out of my dazed state.

"Oi!" Someone booms, making us jump and whip around, breaking away from each other. Once my racing heartbeat calms I register that it's Mark yelling at us, naturally, and I shake my head at his bemused face. He walks over and places one hand on the branch of the tree above our heads, leaning casually, and I almost want to tell him to fuck off. The amusement is palpable though, when he sees us grinning I see his mouth quirk up too.

"Yes?" Dan inquires sweetly, still with his hand on the back of my neck and his cheeks flushed. "Is there any reason you're here?"

Mark chuckles, observing our state and not trying to be in any way subtle about it.

"Why am I not surprised that you guys wandered off to sit by yourselves?" He teases, his cheeks flushed a pleasant pink from the copious amounts of wine he's had. It's good to see Mark smiling, he looks like a whole different man with his eyes crinkled at the corners, it makes me feel like I'm catching a glimpse of what he looked like before the apocalypse.

"Hi to you, too." Dan scoffs.

Mark swats his hand through the air, unamused.

"Did you have any friends besides each other ever?" He questions, raising an eyebrow at us. "You're a unit."

"What's wrong with that?" Dan accuses.

He throws up his hands innocently, shaking his head and making a bemused sound.

"Listen, I've been waiting weeks for you two to just kiss already, except you actually did, which I didn't factor in to happening." He admits awkwardly.

"Were you."

"Yeah." He shrugs, looking bemused. "And uh, now I don't know what to do with myself. So I'm dealing with my equal parts horror and self-satisfaction by making you move."

Dan meets my eyes in mock horror, fronting up at him with a pout.

"We are not in the mood to move right now." He complains, already drawing me closer in protest. "Do we look like we want to move?"

Mark rolls his eyes and chuckles, shooting me a suggestive look that makes me blush when I realize what he's probably expecting some couple off on their own to do.

"We need you back at the campfire, Jack wants to talk to you." He clarifies. "I'm well-aware that you don't."

"To us?" I ask confusedly. Jack's been distributing drinks and shouting out speeches since the celebrating began, I'm trying to imagine what he could possibly want us for. I look over at Dan for feedback and feel confusion when I see he looks suddenly serious, his body subconsciously shifting closer to me. Mark doesn't miss the move either, the motion that is borderline defensive.

"Yes, Phil." He persists, looking away from Dan's expression. "I know I'm the drunk one here, but surely making out hasn't made you forget you're the immune one, right?"

It's just a joke, or an attempt at one, but Dan looks like Mark's about to steal our evening of safety right out from beneath us if he keeps talking.

"I guess." I say tiredly. "Is that what this is about?"

Mark looks like he isn't sure of what to say in case Dan shuts it down, careful to choose his words.

"Kind of." He admits.

"We'll be there in a bit." I dismiss, not wanting Dan to worry. "Tell him we'll get there."

Mark nods in understanding and moves to go back, probably still wanting to be part of the festivity before it ends.

"I'll give you a few minutes." He says kindly, casting me an apologetic look that's genuine this time, rather than joking. "Try to come over there soon, though. It's kind of important."

We nod and he seems to recognize the dismissal, shaking his head and half-smiling as he turns away.

He retreats, becoming more silhouetted as he walks further from us and closer to the fire. Someone's joyful voice echoes in the night and people cheer in response, laughter piecing the air and bouncing over Dan and I even from this distance. Mark's form is quickly becoming indistinguishable from the many around him and Dan stays silent even after he's gone, firelight flickering over his eyes.

I watch him, gazing at his profile from the side and seeing the purple shadows the glow of the fire hasn't reached on the high points of his face, softening his eyes and cheeks in the flickering light. He shifts to sit with his back against the tree and folds his arms over his chest, looking lost in thought.

He settles down and sighs softly, looking tired. It's been a fairly calm day but it's been the only one in months of chaos, we'll probably never be fully recovered from this year. I know how he feels about stepping out of this bubble of peace we've settled into, going to the fire to have an honest talk with the Resistance sounds like the end of our cultivated safety.

The amusement and warmth of before still lingers but I can tell he hardly wants to go be with others right now, his hands already crossing the grass to brush my hand.

If he is anything like me, which he most definitely is, then it probably feels like if we go to Jack and he starts making plans, we'll be accepting that all of this pleasantness can and will end very soon. It's like signing the papers to a root canal. You're willingly subjecting yourself to something that is for a good cause, but isn't something you want or enjoy.

I find myself fixed on his face, feeling nothing but love for this boy with his sad eyes and messy curls.

"You're staring." He observes, not even looking my way but towards the light still.

I blink and raise my gaze to his, seeing him turn his head.

"I am." I say with a nod, searching his gaze for anything amiss.

He stares at me silently, serious at first, but the his features soften when he looks at my face and I kind of really love that. The way he smiles makes me feel special, like he's smiling differently for me than for everyone else. It reminds me of every other one, every touch, word, and motion that made us different, that drew us together and saved this for moments like this when we're safe and alone and finally able to tell every last, single truth.

Without a word I lean over and press our lips together, addressing everything unspoken that we've learned and what we know will be. I only need Dan in this moment, and I know he feels the same as his hand slides down my cheek and stays.

When I draw back he's smiling, just calm and gentle now rather than the energy of before. He nods his head in the direction of the fire and I feel that pull, that tug in my heart that wants these things here as badly as he does.

I know we have the night ahead of us, we just have to accept that there's other things too.

His dark eyes meet mine and I try to mirror those feelings, already dreaming of a night in his arms where I can draw this out that much more.

"Can we just stay here a little bit longer?" He pleads. He looks so reluctant to go back to the fire, a string tied to my heart and his that's not ready to separate. I could never deny him anything. I feel the things that he feels too.

Phil and Phil's Dan. I think silently. A smile curves over my lips.

I reach out my hand and place it over his, making sure to squeeze his fingers before I hold onto him steadily. And I don't let go, meeting his eyes with a smile.

"Of course."

This was 1000% fluff I know. The calm before the storm. HA
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Happy Sunday ducklings