Phil’s feeting are hurting by the time he arrives at his front door. He’s been trekking all over London this afternoon. First for a meeting at the merch offices, then to meet a friend for a late lunch, before stopping in a tesco express for a couple groceries and instead coming out with two laden shopping bags currently cutting off the blood supply to his fingers. To make matters even worse, the closest tube entrance had been closed for maintenance so he’d ended up walking 10 minutes to the next one in this sweltering heat. He should have just got a taxi.
Why hadn’t he just gotten a taxi? Is his thought as he drops the shopping bags down in the hallway outside of his apartment. A single onion falls out of its bag and rolls a little way down the hall. He watches it as he wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. He’s tempted to kick the damn thing the rest of the way, but he restrains himself, instead patting around his pockets for his keys. Once he’s got the door open he fetches back the onion, redepositing it back in the bag, then kicks the door closed behind him on his way inside. The bottoms of his now bare feet hurt even more against the hard wood of the stairs as he hauls the bags up it but the sight that greets his at the top stops him in his tracks.
Phil has told Dan many of his ideas for ‘project sphere’ over the past few months, some far too outlandish to be realistic, others as small and simple as seeing his friends more than once a month for non-work related activities. But this one, this is something that he’s been thinking about for longer than a few months. Since before they even moved to this apartment.
To get a fish.
He’s been doing a fair amount of research, even settled on the type he wanted. He’d told all of this to Dan that morning in bed where he’d left him under the covers to head out. Dan had been as receptive as he always is to Phil’s ideas; listening, asking questions, being generally supportive. But he’d still been sleepy, and Phil wasn’t sure just how much he’d really been taking in.
Obviously, it had been a whole lot because laid out in front of Phil, and really the entire living room floor and desk space is half a dozen books, all open to different pages, a bunch of printed out sheets of paper, and a laptop. Dan is sat crossed-legged in the middle of all of this, head down in another book and a deep frown of concentration on his face.
“Hey,” says Phil, casually, carrying on his path to the kitchen to put away his shopping. “Whatcha doin’?”
Dan’s head shoots up, taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Phil’s voice. “Hey,” he replies, standing up and following Phil to the kitchen, bringing the book in his lap with him. He hops up onto the kitchen counter as Phil opens various cupboards and drawers around him. “So, I found these books on the type of tanks you should get for Betta fish. There’s so many! Did you know there was so many?” Phil listens to Dan talk as he opens the fridge, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Anyway this one talks about the types of filters, I think it’ll need to run about a week before you can put ‘em in to let the nitrogen cycle run. I have a book on that over there- oof.”
Phil wraps his arms around the back of Dan’s neck, pulling him closer, kissing him as hard as he can, trying to tell Dan how grateful he is. Once Dan catches up, he opens his legs to let Phil step closer and wraps his ankles around the back of Phil’s knees, book discarded beside them.
Phil pulls back, presses another kiss to the top of each of Dan’s cheeks and his nose, then steps back to carry on with his tasks, pleased with the stunned silence he’s put Dan in. Phil’s emptying the dishwasher by the time Dan manages to carry on with his thought.