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The cab pulls to a stop outside their house, and it's just like he left it. Some sick part of Dan expected to wake up somewhere between the airport and home and realize this entire thing was a fever dream. He waited for the moment Phil shook his arm and told him breakfast was on the table at two in the afternoon and that they had a production meeting to get to for Radio One. He expected the entirety of touring the USA with his team of friends and the slutty nun costume in his suitcase to just cease to exist. That the memories of hugging thousands and thousands of fans and ripping his jumpsuit on stage in front of a packed theater wouldn't be real. Something of a sick joke only his brain could conjure up.
The last three years have been everything to him, something chaotic and beautiful for which they had worked their asses off. From building his and Phil's forever home, to writing and premiering this tour, to writing a book and creating a full-length coming-out video, his entire life was falling together.
He smiles to himself, a personal secret only he knows as he opens the cab door and collects his luggage. He's gotten surprisingly good at packing lightly, but the number of treasures he'd picked up around the country had begun to pile. He went from a couple of backpacks and a suitcase to an entirely separate piece of luggage that TSA was sure to think was drugs.
He wonders if Phil's home, but quickly corrects the thought, feeling his phone buzz in his jacket pocket with a text from Phil asking where he is. He hadn't told Phil when he'd be coming home, only what day the plane was set to arrive.
And now here he was. Home at last. He touches his hand to the doorknob, chipped black nail polish glinting in the porch light. The sun was due to go down soon, fucking winter. He racks his brain to decide what time it is, his body still 7 hours behind London time. He pushes open the door, hearing the beeping of the security system, alerting their phones that the door has opened. He's greeted by the black entryway and the smell of candles. All at once, the safety washes over him. He stumbles in, setting his laptop bag and luggage down, fussing over the tangle of straps and zippers. What was he thinking designing a jacket with a belt and so many zippers? Of course, they'd get hung! He pulls his AirPods out of his ears, drops them into the case, slipping them back into the pocket alongside his phone, not bothering to pause Perfume Genius.
When he finally looks up, there, before him, is home. Phil's standing in a sweater Dan's never seen before and he's got a smile on his face that surely matches the one on his own. Dan's shoulders drop as Phil steps off the last step, his mind so flooded with emotions that he doesn't even comment on the chaotic stepping habits of the older.
He's home. Phil had opened his arms to catch Dan before he even realized he was falling, arms wrapping around the older's shoulders. The hug shoots them both back to 2009, one where months and years of quiet longing, the sobbing and screaming of their hearts almost becoming painful. The visceral need to be with their other half, the want and need to be whole again.
He's whole again.
"Welcome home, Bear," Phil whispers from his place nuzzled into the crook of Dan's neck. The tears in Dan's eyes fall then, brown eyes turning a bit glassy with the emotions and the love he has for the other. Phil chuckles, pressing a kiss to Dan's temple. "Are you crying?"
Dan nods, hiding his face against the green jumper, Phil invading his senses. The touch of the older, how he doesn't pull away, as though he's scared as well that this is a dream. The way Phil has somehow gotten more handsome since he left, how the memories and the facetime photos weren't doing him justice. The way his voice rumbles from his chest when he laughs softly at the tears on Dan's cheeks. His smell of warmth and the candles he'd lit in attempts to make the house homier.
"Didn't miss me, did you?" Dan jokes, smiling through his tears, pulling back just far enough to meet the older's greeny-yellow-blue eyes.
"Nope. Not at all."Phil smiles, and that's when Dan sees the tears in his eyes. "I got the entire bed to myself and cuddled your Haru pillow. It was great."
"Mhm... Whelp, now you got your bed-hog back. Speaking of hogs, you didn't buy any more golden animals, did you?"
"No, I didn't, actually, not at all." Phil laughs, hugging Dan again, "I'm glad you're home safe." He finally draws back and grabs the folded front of Dan's leather jacket, pulling him in for a kiss. "I didn't realize how quiet this house gets when you're not here."
"Gee, thanks. Sayin' I'm loud, are you?" Dan smirks, not needing a reply as he closes the gap between them again. Phil shakes his head, laughing softly. "Mind giving me a hand getting these upstairs?"
"Sure, which ones should I grab? I can get the suitcase?" Phil reaches over after Dan nods, and picks the suitcase up, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. "You could have told me you were here! I would have helped you out of the cab! I didn't know you had so much! I thought you only left with a suitcase and a backpack?"
"I did, but our fans are very generous people, babe. There are so many letters, artworks and gifts that I still need to go through. I read a few letters on the bus when I had a moment alone but not all of them. I love hearing their stories." They drop the luggage onto the bed, and before Phil can wrap his arms around him again, Dan mumbles something about wanting comfy clothes.
The older nods, watching as he opens the double doors to his closet, the sea of blacks and grays stare back as he picks out his comfiest pajamas. "Why are you staring at me, Phil?" Dan murmurs, not needing to look back at his partner.
"I just can't believe you're home again, finally," Phil whispers, barely loud enough for him to hear, knowing nothing matters but right now. "I really have missed you, Bear."
"I know you have, you spork, you told me all the time when I called you." Dan walks back to the bed, dropping his Game of Thrones Pj pants and NASA cats t-shirt on the duvet. Phil sits at the side, watching quietly. His eyes follow Dan's hands as they remove his airport clothing, and as they pull the new clothes onto his body. He's changed slightly since he left. He's fitter than he used to be, and there's a glow about him that Phil only knows to be true happiness. Phil's eyes sparkle slightly from behind his black frames, as he waits for the next step on Dan's internal to-do list. "You know you don't have to follow me, right?" Dan jests, catching his reflection in the moon mirror, and ruffling his curls. "I won't disappear." The last part of his sentence comes out like a whisper as he approaches the older, hands cupping Phil's cheeks. "I'm really home. I promise I'm not going anywhere for a while." Phil nods, feeling the familiar burn in his throat that comes from crying, and he knows his face deceives him. "How many times are you going to cry?" Dan jokes, feeling another tear slip from his eye. Phil shrugs, sweater brushing the backs of his hands and Dan can't help but lean in again for another slow kiss.
"Fuck I have missed this," Phil whispers between kisses, breaths coming out clipped and quick.
"You have, have you?" Dan smirks against his mouth, hands tangling in the hair on the back of Phil's neck. It's gotten longer since he'd left.
"You have no idea." Phil's hands come to rest on Dan's hips pulling him in again, "You and your old lady pajamas," he laughs, tongue poking between his teeth, head falling back slightly.
"You're actually an asshole, y’know that right?"
"I know, but I'm your asshole."
Dan was home, finally. And he feels their little world begin to heal. The universe takes a breath, and he feels the safety wash over him. Finally, he's back where he belongs.