Chapter Text
Dan’s fingers hit the wrong keys for the hundredth time today. He curses softly and stops playing right in the middle of the song.
“Are you all right, Dan?” his piano teacher asks.
“I’m fine. I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“Just one of those days, then. We can take a break if you need it.”
“No, I’m fine. I want to keep going.”
But the song he’s trying to play sounds too heavy-handed. It’s not light and ethereal like it’s supposed to. He huffs in frustration.
“We’re almost done anyway,” Judy says kindly. “Why don’t we stop a bit early today?”
Dan nods reluctantly. Even though her voice sounds sympathetic, he feels empty inside, like he failed her, like he’s wasting this one hour a week they have together. He swings his long legs around to the other side of the piano bench.
“Do you fancy a biscuit to go? Neil baked some earlier.”
“Only if I can bring a few extra home. You know Phil’ll be furious if I don’t.”
“That boy of yours has some appetite,” Judy chuckles, leading the way to the kitchen. She’s never actually met Phil, but his sweet tooth has become a running joke between them.
She puts several ginger biscuits in a paper bag for him, then walks him to the front door. “You sure there’s nothing wrong, lad? You don’t usually make so many mistakes like that.”
He studies the pattern of the rug beneath his feet before answering. “Not really, no. Maybe it’s just the stress of moving house soon. We decided to remodel a few things before moving in, but that means we’re waiting on the contractor to get back to us. Feels like it’s taking forever.”
“Always does. Neil and I haven’t moved in thirty years. He blames it on not wanting to upset the cats with change, but really, he and I are happy right where we are.” She smiles at him kindly. “If you need a few weeks off from lessons once you boys start moving into your new place, let me know.”
He nods. “Okay, thanks.”
“You take care now, Dan.” She opens her front door and sees him out.
---
The thing is, he wonders if maybe it’s not the stress of moving that’s causing him to fuck up like this, at least not entirely.
He wouldn’t tell this to Judy- she’s his piano teacher, not his therapist, after all. But he’s been feeling really directionless lately, lost in all the freedom his life has right now. He knows it’s such a fucking privileged thing to complain about. He knows that it should be the least of his worries that the things he genuinely enjoys, like piano, feel overwhelming sometimes.
Still, it just fucking sucks. It sucks to have to end a lesson early, feeling like he wasted both his and Judy’s time. He really likes her. She’s kind and reminds him a bit of his own nana, and he feels like he disappointed her.
It’s a nice day out, and he decides to walk home rather than taking the tube. It’s not raining for once, and the air feels cool and crisp around him. He breathes it in and tries to focus on the pavement beneath his feet, the way the fresh air feels in his lungs. Mostly, he just feels frustrated and sad, but he tries his best not to dwell on the negative feelings. It’s what his therapist would tell him to do.
When he arrives home, Phil is tucked away in their computer room, headphones on and in full video editing mode. But he looks up when Dan comes in and takes off his headphones with a smile.
“How’d it go?”
“Kinda shit.”
“What? Why?” Phil swivels fully around in his chair, giving Dan all of his attention.
Dan pulls over another desk chair and sits down next to Phil. “I dunno. It’s like I forgot how to play or something. I kept making stupid mistakes and getting frustrated.”
Phil frowns, looking concerned. “Is something wrong? I didn’t think you were having a bad day when you left.”
“I’m not, I don’t think.” He sighs. “Sometimes, I think maybe I need a change. A new creative outlet. Like, that what I’m doing just isn’t enough. Maybe I’m just bored of piano.”
“Don’t give me that. You love piano, Dan.”
“You’re right. I do. I just feel like maybe there’s something else I could be doing instead.”
“Well, we’re moving. Maybe that’ll be the change you need.”
Dan smiles a little. “I actually gave Judy the excuse that I was fucking up because I was stressed from the move. I definitely haven’t been practicing as much lately.”
“I know I’ve been stressed about it too.” Phil reaches one long leg out and kicks the box that’s sitting right next to the desk. “But it’ll be worth it, all this extra time we have to wait. Think how nice the remodels will look.”
Dan pictures it. It will be nice. They’d decided that they might as well do some remodeling prior to moving in, so that their forever home will be completely perfect for them. The kitchen was outdated, and they’d both wanted a nice tub put in the master bath.
But there’s been delays, and it’s been more stressful than they thought it would be. Dan’s felt on-edge for months, really.
“I’m so fucking excited for that,” Dan says. “We can have a bath without having to worry about falling through rotten floorboards.”
“Or having weird beetles appear.”
“Wow, we really have lofty dreams,” Dan says sarcastically, though it’s actually the truth. He’d love a relaxing, danger-free bath right now.
“Well, hopefully in a month or two, everything’ll be done, and we’ll be settled, and we won’t have to think about moving for a really, really long time.”
They’re both quiet for a while. Dan’s imagining just how good it will feel to finally be settled in a permanent home. The place they’re moving into is so beautiful and perfect for them.
“You know that big space near the lounge in the new place?” he says. “What if we were to get a nice piano and put it there? Then I could practice on something that’s not a shit plastic keyboard.”
Phil raises an eyebrow. “Only if you serenade me daily.”
“So fucking demanding. Should I hand-feed you snacks too?”
Phil smiles at him. “Of course.”
---
There’s a sticky note on their fridge. It says “Try New Things.” Phil put it there a few weeks after his fainting incident, when he and Dan officially decided then that they weren’t going to work so hard in the new year, that they were going to live a life less dictated by work.
Today, a few days after his failed piano lesson, Dan stares for too long at the childish scrawl of Phil’s writing and wonders if maybe that’s his problem, if that’s what’s missing from his life.
Maybe he just needs to try more new things.
He finally opens the fridge door and grabs some almond milk out of it. When he heads into the lounge, Phil is sat in front of Norman’s tank. He’s focused, dabbing watercolour paint onto paper, trying to recreate the world inside the fishtank.
Dan sits down near him to watch. This is Phil’s own latest foray into trying new things, encouraged by his dad, who’d offered him some extra art supplies that were cluttering up the house.
Phil’s really taken to it. They’ve now got dozens of paintings scattered throughout the flat, of houseplants and Norman and the London skyline. Dan loves watching him work, loves how genuinely excited Phil gets when he finishes a painting that has some resemblance to its subject.
“Am I that exciting?” Phil asks with a sideways glance at Dan.
“You’re thrilling.”
Phil continues to paint- a streak of blue for Norman’s fin, lines of green for the grass. This painting is actually looking pretty good. Dan can tell it’s supposed to be a fish, at least.
“How do you decide what new things you want to try next?”
“What do you mean?” Phil looks up from his painting.
“It just seems that you decide things really easily, and you take so quickly to everything you try.”
“I guess I pick things I know I’d enjoy,” Phil says with a shrug. He’s wearing an expression that means he doesn’t understand what Dan’s trying to say. It reminds Dan that they’re not always on the same page, and it feels kind of shit in this moment. So often, it feels like they can read each other’s minds, so it makes him feel extra vulnerable when one of his statements is met with confusion.
“And I haven’t enjoyed everything,” Phil continues. “Remember when I tried riding a bike again and got chased by that very angry swan?”
“Yeah.” Dan knows Phil’s trying to make him laugh with the swan anecdote, but he just doesn’t feel like laughing right now.
Phil puts his paintbrush down. “Is this about how you felt a few days ago? Are you actually not liking piano anymore?”
“No, it’s not that. I do really like it. Judy’s a great teacher. It’s just…” He sighs. “I feel totally uninspired. I was thinking, maybe I need more new things in my life, like you and all your new hobbies.”
Phil cocks his head to the side. “Just because Try New Things is my mantra doesn’t mean it has to be yours.”
“But I want to be doing a bunch of new things. I think it’d be good for me. For us.” He fidgets a little in his chair. “I dunno. I just feel like maybe there’s something out there that I haven’t found yet. Something that I’ll absolutely love, that’ll fill that void. And I won’t find it if I keep sticking with things I already know I like.”
They’re quiet for a long while. Dan stares down at the painting of Norman.
“This is a really shitty time for me to be having another life crisis, isn’t it? Right before we’re about to move?”
Phil laughs. “Since when have your existential crises ever cared about good timing?” Dan cracks a smile, and Phil puts a reassuring hand on his thigh. “Besides, it's not like we're doing anything but sitting and waiting for the renovations to be finished with. We could have another month to wait."
Dan shrugs. "I suppose."
"And if you feel like something’s bothering you, or that you’re missing something in your life, then you shouldn’t have to wait to fix it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m sure there’s something out there that you’ll love.” Phil’s gaze falls to his watercolours. “Maybe you could try painting? You were always a better artist than me, and I’ve got loads of extra brushes and paper.”
Dan smiles properly for the first time this morning. “Yeah, sure. I’ll give it a try.”
Phil tears off a sheet of watercolour paper, and Dan settles in to paint a portrait of his terrarium. It’s a very quiet activity, meditative in a way. The sound of the brush bristles against the paper is loud to his ears. He likes watching the colour appear on the paper.
It ends up a bit lopsided, and he feels a little calmer after painting, but not completely. It’s not like he’d expected this to solve all his problems, but he just wishes he wasn’t feeling this way in the first place.
“I know there’s something out there for you, Dan,” Phil says, giving his shoulder an affectionate rub. “Even if it’s not painting. We’ll find you something you love to do.”
---
The next afternoon, Dan’s sitting on his laptop, answering emails. He feels bored and unproductive, even though he’s just written out ten messages. His eyes are aching, and he thinks maybe he should head outside for some fresh air.
He hears a knock at the door and turns around to see Phil standing there, a small pile of paper in his hands.
“What’s that?”
“Just a little gift for you,” Phil says, handing the paper over. It’s a numbered list beneath the title New Things to Try! “I totally expect you to try every single thing listed here, just so you know.”
When Dan flips through it, he sees that there’s hundreds of hobbies and activities listed. “Phil. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yeah I did. I want you to be happy. You’ve looked really sad since you came home from your piano lesson, Dan. I wanted to help.”
Dan thinks he might cry if he tries to speak, so he just looks down at the pages in front of him instead.
“And it doesn’t just have to be for you. We can do some of these things together.”
Dan eyes something on the third page. “‘Try something new in bed with your partner?’ Nah, can’t see how we could do that together.”
“Shut up,” Phil says, blushing slightly. “I copy-pasted from a couple of websites. So if they’re weird or pervy, blame the internet.”
“So you don’t want to try something new in bed, then.”
“I never said that, buddy.”
(It’s the first thing they check off the list, and maybe it can’t be considered a proper hobby, but Dan’s in full favour of it.)
The list makes for a good starting point. In the next few weeks, in between frustrating calls with their contractor telling them that there’s another delay, and no, their house isn’t ready to move into yet, Dan attempts to live by Phil’s life motto and tries more new things than he ever has before.
First, he tries going for a swim. He and Phil have got a personal trainer, which gives them membership rights to their local gym. He’s never actually tried out the pool before, but he remembers how much he had liked swimming as a kid.
It’s nice enough. It’s more enjoyable exercise than running. He likes feeling his weight suspended in the water and watching the old people across the pool do water aerobics.
But when he gets home and showers, he still smells like chlorine, and his hair is frizzy. That’s less than pleasant. He’s not sure if he’ll go back.
After that, he decides that what he really needs is a creative outlet. He finds a birdhouse-building kit from the store and buys it on an impulse. He spends a whole weekend trying and failing to hammer nails into wood.
Even though he doesn’t have a functional birdhouse at the end of the weekend, building it does inspire him to go to the park with a bird field guide and try to identify all the different species he sees (he is, in fact, able to identify pigeons and crows, which are seemingly the only bird inhabitants of London).
Next, he tries baking a loaf of bread that tastes surprisingly okay. He’s not about to become a Bake Off contestant, but the loaf is edible and crusty.
When he sits down to eat a slice of it, he stares at the crumbs littering the table and thinks deeply. Everything he’s been doing has been fun. It’s just... he just doesn’t feel particularly motivated to try any of it again.
Maybe it’s because he’s now identified Try New Things as a problem that he needs to solve. And his stupid brain won’t be satisfied until he finds the absolute perfect solution to that problem.
And that’s beyond frustrating. He and his brain are on better terms these days, but he still hates it sometimes.
Dan’s therapist talks to him a lot about perfectionism. How he thinks everything he does has to be just right or else it’s not worth doing. He wishes he could say that taking a break from YouTube has calmed down the perfectionist side of him, but evidently, that’s not the case.
He finishes up his slice of bread and tidies up the crumbs. Maybe one day soon, he’ll finally find something that clicks with him.
---
Having to deal with contractors, moving boxes, his own brain is all frustrating, but Dan is offered a much-welcome break when their friend Adam invites him, Phil, and Bryony over for a board game night.
Even though board games can also be really stressful.
“Why do we always lose this fucking game?” Bryony says, glaring down at the board game. They’ve managed to get through the whole deck of cards and are nowhere close to winning.
“Because Pandemic is stupid and hard,” Phil says.
“Your mum is stupid and hard,” Dan immediately shoots back. Next to him, Adam nearly chokes on his sparkling wine.
“Another round?” Phil suggests. “I know we can win if we try.”
Bryony rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because the problem was that we weren’t trying hard enough.”
“I’ll get everyone drink refills, then,” Dan says, standing up.
Adam tips his head back to watch Dan walk into the kitchen. “Awww, being a good host even though this isn’t even your home?”
“Shut up. Me and Phil brought the wine, anyway. Maybe I feel responsible for it or something.”
Adam laughs. “Fair enough. I don’t particularly fancy standing up or being a proper host anyway.”
It’s been a fun night, Dan thinks as he heads into the kitchen and uncorks a new bottle of wine. It feels nice to have this small group of queer friends who are up for a quiet night of board games and snacks. They’ve always hung out with Bryony a lot, but Adam’s been joining them more lately, and sometimes his boyfriend too. Dan really wishes he could have had something like this when he was a teenager.
When he heads back into the lounge, Phil looks up. “Dan! Do you want to play a new round of Pandemic, or move onto Chameleon? We can’t decide.”
“You know I’m always up for Chameleon.”
They start putting away the first game, putting all of the little pieces back in their proper bags.
“You know what I think? We should go out and do something fun next weekend,” Bryony says.
“What, board game night isn’t fun enough for you anymore?” Dan says.
She gives him a look. “Just ‘cause you’re a homebody doesn’t mean the rest of us are. We live in London for fuck’s sake. There’s got to be something fun to do somewhere that’s not one of our flats.”
Adam looks up from where he’s sorting cards into piles. “I’ve actually got a drag show coming up next Saturday. You’re all welcome to come, if you’re not busy.”
Bryony perks up and looks over at Dan and Phil. “Oooo, yes! It’s so much fun. I bet you two would love it. The bar’s really cool, and there’ll be loads of drag queens and good drinks and hot guys.”
“Wow, really trying to tempt us with the promise of hot guys?” Dan deadpans.
“I’m not sure if we’re busy, but send us the details,” Phil says. He’s always such a charmer. He knows perfectly well that they’re not doing anything next weekend. But Dan knows that Phil just wants to check in with him first, to make sure that they’re both on the same page about going.
“Just let me know,” says Adam with an understanding smile, and they move on to their next game.
---
“Would I be a shit friend if I didn’t want to go?” Dan says. They’ve left from Adam’s flat, taken an Uber home, and now they’re tucked in bed.
“We can just say we have something else to do. He knows we’re busy, and that we’re moving soon.”
Dan’s quiet. His mind feels like it’s racing, which he really hates. He’s had a fun night with friends, and he feels like his brain should have gotten the message that he’s happy. Instead, his brain is just focusing on the unfamiliarity of a future experience he hasn’t even committed to yet, the exciting but terrifying concept of going to a drag show at a gay bar.
Phil reaches over in the dark and takes one of Dan’s hands in his. “We’re out, Dan. We can do this now, and it won’t matter if anyone sees us.”
“I know.” He pauses to think. “I don’t think I’m scared of being seen anymore. Not really. It’s just, I’ve never done it before, you know. Go to a gay bar.”
“Try new things, remember?”
It makes Dan laugh despite himself. “I guess.”
“If you don’t want to go, I get it,” Phil says. “We can stay home and watch movies all night or something instead. But gay bars can be loads of fun.”
“What was it like when you went when you were in uni?” Dan whispers.
Phil strokes Dan’s fingers with his thumb. “Kinda amazing, actually. I mean, as far as bars go. There was this one place me and a couple of my friends would go to sometimes. It was the first time I felt like I wasn’t weird gay Phil. I could just be me.”
“Really?”
Phil shifts. “I mean, there was this one time when some creepy middle-aged guy hit on me. That wasn’t great. But if that happens to us this time, you can, I dunno, come over to the bar like it’s a movie and be like, pardon me, sir, but this handsome lad’s already taken.” He affects a bad pseudo-Texan accent, and Dan laughs.
“I should do that even if no one creepy hits on you.”
“Aw, Dan. You know it’s my dream to be called handsome by a fake cowboy.”
“You dork.” He rolls over so he’s half on top of Phil and tickles him.
“No! You’re the worst!” Phil squeals, squirming and trying to roll away, laughing breathlessly. They playfully tickle and wrestle with each other until they collapse, tired and out of breath. The duvet has become a twisted mess, so Dan readjusts it neatly over the both of them.
“Just let me know what you decide, Dan,” Phil says, settling in beside him. “I’m fine either way.”
Dan takes a deep breath. Right now, in this moment, he feels brave. “We should go. Try new things.”