A/n: Get it?? It's 'tri' because there's three of them now, a happy little family :)) jk this is angst u sad fucks get wrekt (the Sequel to "Stegosaurus")

Genre: Fluffy Angst?

Wordcount: 18,935

Summary: Opening yourself up to a new relationship after a disastrous break-up can be hard, but throw in the responsibility of being a single parent and it all goes to shit. Will Dan be able to embrace his emotions before they end up sabotaging things between him and Phil? Will his son Joey ever stop being obsessed with dinosaurs?!

Warnings: general trust issues, fear of commitment, non-graphic mentions of a bad relationship in the past, car crashes (minor injuries, dont worry im not satan)

Dan's life had developed a routine over the course of the past year since leaving his husband to start anew, as shocking as that revelation had seemed when he first realized. He wasn't a routine person, he'd struggled his entire life to get his shit together and plan things ahead, when suddenly every week had started to take the same course all on its own. It wasn't an intentional thing, he hardly even noticed it was happening until it was too late.

Maybe it was the pressure put on him now that he was the only adult in the household for the first time in his life, maybe there was some belated dad-mojo kicking in much later than anticipated, but dare he say it... he felt responsible. And for once, that concept didn't terrify him.

He'd started to revel in it, beaming proudly whenever he was accused of being too early or "the mom friend" of the group. He balanced everything expertly, aside from the minor hiccup of questioning his entire career path and deciding to quit in hopes of making a living from home. Even then, he'd made the right decision for himself even though it hadn't been the easy one.

The routine had adapted easily enough. Dan doesn't go to work anymore, he stays at home and drags himself to sit down in front of a shiny new camera he splurged a chunk of his personal savings on. It hadn't been his idea originally, but rather his closest friend had suckered him into trying it out by featuring him on her channel first. Louise was the one that had been there for him through every last struggle he'd faced during the stressful adopting process, he had no reason to doubt her motherly expertise now.

She was right. Of course she was right. He'd taken to the idea like a moth to a flame, had started listing off a slew of ideas for videos before they'd even finished filming that first collab together. He'd been featured on her channel many times since then, especially after he broke the news to her that he was considering giving up on the draining shithole that was a job in law to focus on creating things full-time.

Joey loved it. That was probably the most important part. Screw the routine, screw the amount of effort it'd take to make a name for himself, he could even justify screwing how he felt on the matter... what mattered most was that Joey was happy. Of course he was, in hindsight it was stupid to worry that he'd have a problem with seeing more of Dan and less of the teenage girl that had to babysit him late into the evenings whenever Dan was working on a case.

Not only did Joey love seeing more of his father, he loved the idea of filming videos nearly as much as Dan did. At first this had seemed like a hinderance more than anything, having to carefully set up the camera whenever his son wanted to use it to film nonsense, because hell if he was going to trust a seven year old with a thousand pound piece of technology on his own. It quickly proved to be a blessing in disguise though, when they realized that people found Joey's natural childlike sarcastic charm even more appealing than Dan's sarcastic existential rants.

Now, whether he liked to admit it or not, Dan wasn't sure if the majority of his subscribers were there for him or the seven year old. He didn't mind it though, not nearly as much as he let on. They shared nearly everything else in their lives, he couldn't help but see the privilege in having his work be one of those things now. He could remember all too clearly what it'd been like having that aspect of his life separate, having to prioritize something he cared so little about on the same level as the boy he cared about more than anything.

No, he was lucky to have this opportunity, he didn't doubt that for a second. The routine hadn't been compromised the way that he'd feared, it'd only evolved into something more. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, it surpassed all of his expectations by a landslide.

He supposed that was what was happening now, when he woke up late in the afternoon wearing Phil's shirt, with Phil's glasses sitting on the bedside table, with Phil's endearing off-tune singing sounding from the direction of the kitchen; the routine was evolving again.

There was one major difference between this evolution and the last though; he couldn't have possibly seen this one coming.

He'd known from the start that his job wasn't going to work out, it simply wasn't who he wanted to be. It was a miracle in itself that he'd managed to graduate from uni, but actually going to work full-time was somehow worse than the demanding classes and constant exams. He hated the job, resented his parents for coercing him into pursuing it in the first place, it hardly came as a surprise when his stress levels grew too high to consider working there any longer.

This, though, this had come as a surprise. How was he meant to predict the man that stormed into his life and swept him off his feet without a moment's hesitation? It wasn't like he'd been looking to meet anyone on his trip to the other side of the planet. Hell, he hadn't even been looking to meet anyone back home. If he could remember correctly, which he could, he'd made a very real pact not to look for anyone until he'd tended to the other areas of his life.

After what happened last time... Dan simply couldn't risk putting anything on hold for the sake of meeting someone new, especially when it wasn't promised to last. He had his career to worry about, he had to think about how to remodel the spare rooms in his new place, he had to figure out what to tell Joey the next time he asked about getting a puppy, the list seemed never ending. However, if there was an end, finding a new man would be his absolute last priority.

Yet here he was, singing in his kitchen and making them breakfast by the sound of it. The new man had found him, conveniently enough. It should have been better that way, it saved him the time of finding someone, of stressing over it and procrastinating it until he forgot how to date altogether. It didn't exactly feel convenient though... it felt sudden.

He liked being in control now that he finally had the opportunity. He liked the routine of his life. He liked being a single parent. He liked knowing that his decisions were the only ones that influenced his life, and for the first time ever, that no one else could tell him what to do. It was up to him to raise his child and make a home, and he couldn't help but feel that he'd been doing a damn good job this far.

It felt like... giving up... to let someone else into his life again.

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes before sleepily rolling out of bed. He didn't bother looking around for a pair of jeans, instead heading toward the door without a moment's hesitation, unsurprised to find that the boxers he was wearing were also Phil's. He smiled briefly to himself, yawning as he started stumbling down the hall toward the bright kitchen and the source of the noise that'd woken him.

He wasn't sure when it'd happened exactly, but at some point over the course of the past six months since meeting, Phil had started to spend more time at Dan's quaint outdated home on the outskirts of the city than the highrise classy apartment that was claimed in his own name. There was a bright blue toothbrush next to his red one and Joey's green one, a pile of dirty laundry in the corner of his room that Phil always promised to take home to clean and never did, and more often than not Dan fell asleep to the warmth of another body curled around his.

He liked it, the closeness. He just didn't like the loss of control that came with it, the feeling of being vulnerable and exposed. He'd felt that before, not that long ago, and his ex had done a damn good job of teaching him that it wasn't the good feeling it'd seemed to be the first time Dan had fallen head over heels for a boy.

Dan wandered into the kitchen with a hand prying through his messy bed head, an eyebrow quirked as the song changed and Phil effortlessly switched to singing something that sounded suspiciously close to country. He would definitely be making fun of him for that later, but now he headed straight for the radio on the counter and turned it off, worried it'd give him a headache if he listened to it blasting at that volume for any longer.

Phil's own singing stumbled to a stop after a noticeable delay, like he'd been too into it to process when the actual music cut out. He furrowed his eyebrows together, turning to find the source of the problem, only to light up the same way he always did when his gaze fell on Dan.

"Morning!" He greeted, haphazardly tossing the spatula onto the counter to pace over to his boyfriend with open arms. Dan was still glaring at him, pouting for being woken up before noon on his designated day off, but he could hardly hold the bitter expression when Phil had hugged him to his chest in the most delicate way. He wasn't sure how he did it exactly, but Phil had a way of making him feel like something precious, invaluable in the way that he mattered to another person.

"I thought you had work this morning." He caught himself muttering into the crook of Phil's neck, pulling back just enough to smirk at his handiwork from the night before and press a kiss to one of the dark hickeys Phil was sporting proudly. He received a smack on the back of the head for that, as well as a startled soft gasp that definitely made the backlash worth it.

"Decided to fake sick and stay home with you guys instead." Phil explained as he pulled away, very blatantly nudging his head in the direction of the doorway linking this room to the next, where Joey was surely watching his morning cartoons. Ever the modest one, Phil Lester, couldn't even kiss at a hickey in his own home when there was a risk of his son walking in on it.

Dan grumbled something unintelligible to express his obvious frustration, curling up in his usual spot at the table and pressing his face into the placemat. Phil fondly clicked his tongue at him, an appetizing cool glass of water appearing in Dan's line of sight mere seconds later. He tipped it back before bothering to thank Phil, suddenly painstakingly aware of how dehydrated he felt.

By the time he finished with his drink, Phil had already returned to the stove and started to pile an omelette onto one of the kid-size colorful plates kept in the lower cupboards. He set it aside to cool down, turning the radio back on as he walked past it almost as if it came as a second nature. Dan glowered at him for that only to be caught in the act by Phil, who was snickering under his breath about it. "Why did you ask? Do you have something planned today?"

"No." Dan explained hurriedly, uncertain why he'd bothered to ask. It was a break in routine, those things stood out to him more than they ever had before. He didn't mind Phil being home on his designated day off, surely not. He minded it even less when Phil paced over to lean down and gently cup his face between soft palms, caressing his cheeks before stealing a chaste kiss from his lips.

Phil pulled away reluctantly, making it clear that he wanted the moment to last much longer. Dan couldn't be spiteful that it'd been cut short though, not when Phil was wearing the utmost adoring look on his face. It was like he couldn't get enough of staring at Dan's signature messy morning look, perhaps only because he knew he was the cause behind it after keeping his boyfriend up half the night.

"Dance with me?" Phil hummed quietly, nosing at Dan's cheek before grabbing up his hands and pulling him to his feet rather abruptly. Dan made an indignant sound of protest, quickly interrupted by Phil's warm giggling as he stepped closer and started to sway their bodies together.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd rather be caught dead than dancing to this garbage." Dan concluded, all too aware of the fact that that wasn't at all what Phil had been hoping for when he drew the other man so much closer. Phil groaned, shoving him away like he'd been genuinely hurt by the words.

"Hey!" Phil was trying so hard to maintain a frown, putting an unreal amount of effort into looking disapproving and chastising, but his eyes betrayed him the way they always did. Dan could see the amusement shining there, though even that was hidden under a thick layer of pure admiration that surely left them both feeling breathless. It didn't take long for Phil to cave entirely after that, laughing uncontrollably as he clumsily hugged Dan's body to his own.

When Phil pulled back he looked almost teary-eyed and for a terrifying moment Dan worried that he actually had offended the other man, but then his lips were claimed in a kiss so affectionate and slow that there wasn't a single doubt left in his mind about what was happening. Phil broke things off between them first, speaking against Dan's lips in that same thick, emotional tone he always used when he had trouble voicing how strongly he felt. "God, I love you."

Yep, there it was again, that same confession that had been causing Dan to consider all of this so very closely at inopportune moments like first thing after waking up in the morning. Phil said it all the time, sometimes absentmindedly as he pecked Dan on the cheek before leaving for work, sometimes through heavy tears in that blubbering voice like when he'd said it for the very first time. It didn't matter how he said it though, what mattered was how it made Dan feel.

And make Dan feel it did, so fucking strongly it sent chills up his spine and caused his heart to pound determinedly against the inside of his chest. It'd never been like that before, not with his ex, not with any of the girls he'd experimented with as a teenager.

It moved him. Every stutter over the words, every pause between them, every time they seemed to shake and fluctuate in pitch because Phil was struggling so hard to express himself and the depth of the emotions he was so lost in. No one had ever looked at Dan and felt something so strongly, that much he was sure of.

The only thing he wasn't sure of was whether he felt so strongly back. What did he have to compare it to? He was inexperienced, his only serious relationship before this one had resulted in a broken dead marriage and a quarter-life crisis. He didn't want to make the same mistake as before and assume that what he was feeling was true, that love alone would be enough to promise forever to them.

He hadn't said it back yet. Couldn't bring himself to. He knew he was being childish at this point, that it wasn't a matter of not getting attached anymore, they'd been together too long for that. He was already attached, now he couldn't bring himself to say it out of fear of admitting defeat. The moment he said those words he was blatantly opening himself up for disaster, to be hurt again, probably much worse than before if how strongly he felt already was anything to go off of.

"I might film something later, would you mind hanging out with Joey for a little bit?" He questioned, clearing his throat and gingerly removing himself from Phil's arms. He still hadn't said it back, damn it, where was the courage he'd had rushing into this whirlwind relationship with a stranger? He was probably hurting Phil, yet that alone wasn't enough to convince his cowardly self.

"Not at all!" Phil beamed, hardly missing a beat despite just being brutally rejected. He'd told Dan the first time that there was no obligation to say it back, that he would wait as long as possible for them both to be comfortable enough to exchange the words. It was hardly likely that he expected to wait this impossibly long though, surely he was growing tired by now.

Phil spun around and grabbed the food he'd set aside for the seven year old, starting toward the living room only to snake his free arm around Dan's waist halfway there. He pulled the taller man into his side, kissing the edge of his lips. "It would be my privilege."

"Dorks." They both jumped at that, nearly sending an omelette flying through the air toward the source of the comment. Luckily, Phil regained his balance just in time, blinking owlishly as Joey shook his head and paced sleepily across the floor. He tugged his sleeves up from where they hung over his hands in adorable sweater paws, a look of concentration crossing his features as he took the plate from Phil's hands without hesitation.

He turned to leave then, without so much as a thank-you, only looking back from the doorway to grin cheekily at the stunned expressions that both Dan and Phil had adorned. "Dork dads."

--

After that, the day proved to be a pretty standard one. It didn't end up making much difference that Phil had stayed home from work, considering he took Joey out for the day to give Dan some time to himself to get things done. It took many check-ups to make sure Joey's backpack had every possible thing he could ever end up needing, that Phil's phone was fully charged, and that they weren't planning on bringing a puppy back home with them before he finally let them leave the house unsupervised.

Even now, hours later as he was finishing up editing the video he'd spent the day filming, he couldn't keep his eyes off the clock. It wasn't even particularly late yet, but he'd sent three texts so far and every last one had gone unanswered. He wasn't worried yet, but he was definitely starting to lean in that dreadful direction. With great responsibility came great fucking stress.

It wasn't the first time he'd left Joey in Phil's care by any means, but it was the first time they'd gone this long without updating him on how things were going. Hell, he was almost finished with work for the day now, he wouldn't mind joining them wherever they were for the rest of the evening. It could be a group outing rather than just the two of them.

He decided not to dwell on it, that they were probably distracted and hadn't thought to check any messages recently. He had to give them the benefit of a doubt, for his own sake. He would finish editing before he allowed himself to think about it for even a second more. By then, surely Phil would have messaged him something.

Phil didn't message him something. It was 6pm, they'd left just after noon, and Dan was starting to lose his goddamn mind. He caught himself more than once pacing the floor, heading over to the front window to peer out like he'd magically be able to sense when they were about to return home. Then there was the horror of the missing persons page that he searched up, just in case he'd have to file a report or something... the amount of children that had gone missing locally recently was staggering compared to what he'd expected.

His mind was officially lost after that. It was in that moment, as he dialed up Phil's mother that he'd only met once briefly when they'd both arrived to visit Phil at the same time, that his worry turned into full-blown panic. Phil's mother had no idea where he was, had no progress getting through to him either, and then he was also guilty of making a middle-aged woman worry for her son as well. He would kick himself for that later, but at the present time it felt nothing short of relieving to know that he wasn't the only one that found the uncharacteristic behavior worrisome.

He did try to file a missing person's report in the end, after calling through the short list of mutual friends they'd gained over the course of their relationship and coming up with nothing but dead ends. They informed him that there was nothing they could do until twenty-four hours after the disappearance, despite Dan's very best efforts to explain all the awful things that could happen in that unfairly generous amount of time.

Then he was left to wait, bundled up on the couch with his eyes glued to his phone like the few seconds of time saved before he could reply would make all the difference in case of an emergency. He was going to assume the worst until proven otherwise. Anything could have happened by now, there was no telling what was keeping them so late.

The sun set and the sky outside went dark, yet still there was no sign of them. Dan was starting to doze off at some point well past the bedtime Joey was supposed to have on school nights, when the flash of headlights in the drive woke him in an instant. He scrambled to his feet so hurriedly that his phone went flying across the floor and the blankets gathered around his legs, causing him to trip. He barely had time to wince at his hand colliding with the coffee table before he was wriggling free and darting the rest of the way to the front door.

He charged outside barefoot despite the cool autumn temperatures, feet thudding against the paved walkway as he ran to where Phil was opening the backseat door for Joey to clamber out of. The moment his light-up shoes had hit the ground, Dan had gathered the boy into the tightest hug imaginable. He stifled an outright sob of relief, burying his face in the fabric of Joey's jacket as he held him.

"Dan? What are y-"

"Where were you guys?!" Dan roared, protectively tugging Joey closer to his chest when Phil cautiously reached out toward them. The hand that had previously been hovering hesitantly in the air between them recoiled instantly, shocked by the absolutely venomous tone Dan was using. He'd never seen Dan like this before, Dan wasn't even entirely certain that he'd been like this before. Every protective instinct in him was screaming at him to zero in on the threat that had made him worry so much for Joey's well-being, and there was really only one target in sight.

"The movies." Phil answered carefully, kneeling beside them. Joey had started to squirm now, clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere, but Dan held him tighter and childishly tried to hide the tears building in his eyes until he could get them under control.

Phil worried his bottom lip between his teeth, tentatively settling a hand on Dan's knee where it'd been scuffed against the pavement. His jeans were probably ripped, he could tell that much without looking, could tell by the sting that he'd scraped himself up pretty badly while diving for Joey. He didn't regret it though, even less so when he sniffled hard enough to get himself under control and let the boy go. The moment Joey had stepped away from him, Dan already longed to have him closer again. He'd spent the day imagining such dreadful outcomes, this was by far the happiest ending.

Good person that he was, Phil tried hard until the very end. Either he missed the signs entirely or was determined to work past how blatantly indifferent toward talking this out Dan felt, as he just kept trying to explain himself. Desperation was leaking into his words, like if he just tried hard enough it would calm Dan down enough to see how unreasonable he was being. "They were screening old action films and Joey hadn't seen any of them, it-"

"You could have called!" Dan snapped. See, where Phil was wrong, was in assuming that Dan didn't already see how unreasonable he was being. He knew every step of the way that he was only lashing out, angry that he'd been left to worry all day and determined to make someone pay for the torture he'd been through.

Phil ducked his head, furrowing his eyebrows together. His hand slipped upward, settling over Dan's where it rest on his own hip.

"Sorry." He whispered, finally sounding somewhere near to what Dan had been feeling all day. Without bothering to respond to the apology, Dan turned away to face Joey again. No one had noticed when exactly it'd happened, but at some point since he'd been freed from his father's grip, Joey had backed up against the side of the car to survey the entire exchange. His eyes were wide, flitting between the two men like he was hanging onto every word they spoke.

His backpack hung lazily from one shoulder in a way Dan would surely chastise at any other time, a quick comment about damage to his back and Joey would animatedly point out what a mother hen he was before obediently looping it over both his arms. As it was, Dan simply shook his head and gestured vaguely toward the house.

"Joey, go get ready for bed." He was well-aware of the fact he was using his strict voice, but he didn't have time to dwell on it or rethink his decision before Joey had taken off running. The sound of the screen door slamming behind him brought Dan back to the moment. He glared over at Phil, rising to his feet to look down at him. "What were you thinking?!"

"I don't know! You told me to spend the day with him!" Before he could stop himself, Dan had flinched away from the shout and closer toward the house. He was subconsciously putting space between them, bracing himself for when the other man lost the remainder of his cool completely.

He hadn't expected Phil to start yelling back, the latter had never once raised his voice throughout the course of their relationship so far. There was a first for everything though, Dan's mind helpfully reminded him. Dan's ex hadn't yelled at first either, but towards the end it'd seemed like all he was capable of doing was yelling, so much so that his voice still rang in Dan's ears now as he watched Phil's composure cracking. He could feel it happening, his brain drawing similarities at a dangerous pace to the man in front of him and the man who had let him down so horribly once before.

"Yeah, the day! Not half the night too!" He fired back, though he would later have to deny the way he trembled as he yelled.

"I didn't mean to worry you, Dan." Phil sighed, raking his hands through his hair. He dropped them back to his sides, looking pleadingly toward his boyfriend. He looked close to tears himself and it wasn't until Dan spitefully swiped at his cheeks that he realized he'd started to cry at some point as well. He huffed, turning his face in the opposite direction as he desperately scrubbed the saltwater from his cheeks.

"Well, you did!"

"Don't you trust me with him?" Phil sounded tired more than anything now, not even trying to hide the obvious toll this conversation had taken on his own emotions. Dan blinked rapidly, turning to eye Phil from behind the sweep of his fringe, unable to meet his gaze directly.

"Of course I trust you, but he's not..." He caught himself before he said it, but he didn't have to. The tone, the body language, the entire exchange said it when his voice came up short. He froze, curling his hands into fists so tight he was sure to leave crescent-shaped indents in his palms. He looked at Phil directly now, dread sinking through him all at once.

Regret. Sharp and distinct. He could feel it in the air, like a dark fog that clung to his body and made his skin crawl. He tried to display as much in his body language, dropping his defensive stance to stumble carefully toward Phil, his bottom lip trembling. Phil backed away, his expression unreadable as he processed what was left unspoken.

Dan didn't mean it. He wasn't sure why the hell he would think something like that, let alone come so close to saying it.

"He's not my son, right?" Phil muttered lowly, kicking at the ground beneath his feet. The short little laugh that followed was nothing like the beautiful melodious sounds he was capable of making, it was a dark shadow of the normal bubbly giggles that Dan was lucky enough to bask in on the daily. He could already feel them slipping away, his memories of seeing Phil happy and relaxed faltering, like he'd somehow always been the cold detached person in front of him.

Dan shook his head, determined not to believe that.

"Phil." He breathed, his voice soft and apologetic, eyes watery as he raked them over Phil's own defensive posture. He wasn't backing away pathetically like Dan had, only seemed to stand taller and more intimidatingly now that he was rising to the challenge. It made Dan want to shrink away from the scene even more, reminded him all too closely of the times he'd tried and failed to stand up to other people in his life.

Phil turned away, looking for a fleeting moment like he was going to snap and punch something before the anger smoothed into a hollow nothingness that was somehow worse. Dan clutched his chest, biting his lip and hanging onto the hope that maybe they could fix this if he just persevered through it no matter how difficult it seemed.

"No, you're right. I didn't realize you felt that way, that's all." Phil mumbled, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than anyone else. "I get it, I do. It's your family, not mine, not ours."

"That's not what I said!" Dan argued, face twisting up into some unrecognizable pained expression because this was not what he wanted to happen. Suddenly this didn't feel like the happy ending anymore, this felt like one of the many worst outcomes he'd dreaded over. All he wanted was for both of them to come home unscathed, how had he messed this up so horribly?

"It's what you feel though, isn't it?" Something in Phil's tone suggested that he'd been harboring this suspicion for an awfully long time and the reality of it overwhelmed Dan. He blinked, tilting his head to the side and staring at his partner in an entirely new light. More than that, he was looking at himself in a new light as well. Did he feel that way? Was that why he'd been struggling so much to open up? He simply didn't want to?

"I don't know!"

"Maybe we should take a step back until you do, then." Phil sighed, like it genuinely pained him to say those words.

Though surely, surely, it couldn't have hurt him as much as it hurt Dan. He felt it as if he'd been dealt a physical blow, the same way he felt it every time Phil told him how much he loved him. It wasn't the same, not really, that made him feel like he was soaring and this felt like being shot down. It was difficult to breathe around it, to think about anything other than the hole that'd been left in his chest the moment Phil announced he would be leaving.

Phil turned away, shaking his keys in his hand as he started toward the driver's side. This meant passing by Dan, a realization that struck him too late when he was forced to feel Phil's hand trail across his back and give a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. "I know what I want, Dan, I've known from the start. I love you guys, but I can't stay if you expect me to stop trying to bridge every bit of distance between us."

"I just need time, it's moving too fast." He found the words forming without his conscious permission, tumbling past his lips unfiltered. He felt so far away from their exchange in that moment, like he was looking down on it from the glimmering stars above.

"It's been six months, Dan." Phil spoke evenly, having reeled in his own emotions neatly just as Dan's started to grow oh so messy. "You have my number if you think of anything else you want to say. This doesn't have to be the end, but you know where I stand."

Then he was gone. He left Dan's life as suddenly and unexpectedly as he'd entered it, it seemed. Dan was left standing in his own drive staring after him, tears streaking his face as he desperately tried to urge his heart and mind to catch up with the situation. It was too late, it wouldn't do him any good to be feeling these things now, but he was drowning in them. All the things he could have done, the words he could have said. There were three in particular that he was now damn sure could have changed everything, but where had they been when he needed to say them?

He couldn't tell you how long he spent standing there before his feet had grown so numb it was surely unhealthy. Only then did he turn and mechanically start toward the house, urging himself forward even when his every muscle felt tired. He wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for a week, pretend this had simply been a bad dream like he suffered from so frequently and that he'd wake up to the sound of mediocre singing in the kitchen to comfort him through it afterward.

Dan wandered into Joey's room not long after, his eyes red-rimmed and heart heavy in his chest. He lingered in the doorway, flicking the overhead light off and softly clearing his throat.

"Joey?" He called quietly, receiving no response. He took a deep breath and turned away, ready to head to bed himself, utterly oblivious to the quiet sniffling he hadn't heard sounding from under the covers.

--

A week had passed since that night and Dan had been coping about as well as he'd expected to. There was something unique in becoming a parent that no one had warned him about. The moment another person became your responsibility, you seemed to gain the innate ability to put your own struggles and emotions on hold. It might not have been healthy, Dan couldn't really tell, but as long as Joey was taking things better than he was it didn't much matter to him.

He'd procrastinated nearly everything else in his life, why not procrastinate the inevitable post break-up breakdown as well?

It wasn't really a conscious effort, but it came naturally to him to spend as much time as possible outside of the house when he was hurting. It was better that way, Joey constantly had something to do, it kept him so busy that he hardly had the chance to ask questions. Dan was strong, he had that elusive parental ability of swallowing down his emotions on his side, but there was only so much he could handle. Being asked directly what was happening and how he felt, with wide impressionable eyes glued to him while he responded... that was simply asking too much of him.

Not to mention the taunting reminders of what he'd lost that haunted every corner of his house, the home he'd spent years building. He worked so hard to make it a safe place for him and his son, yet this was the second time someone had stormed through and left the place in a disastrous state. He couldn't even look at his bedroom floor without feeling empty inside for the first few days, had ended up shoving every article of clothing that even reminded him of Phil into the back of his closet in a fit of rage.

He regretted it though, not long after, and had ended up sinking so low as to seek out his favorite shirt of Phil's that had been left there and curl up next to it later that night. Weak. He felt so very weak, like he'd lost all the control over his life that he'd finally gained.

So he kept them busy, visiting all the sites around the city that they'd somehow never gotten around to visiting before now. Long hikes, personable visits at the animal shelter, lectures from museum tour guides, school-related outings, he even let Joey talk him into sitting on the edge of the playground for an hour or two while kids screeched endlessly all around him. By the end of the week, Dan was feeling damn near exhausted.

Luckily, by some miracle, Joey looked to be equally as tired out. Driving home that weekend with his kid passed out in the backseat, Dan gripped the steering wheel extra tight and told himself not to think about it until he'd gotten them both home safely. He managed it, though the radio insisted on playing the saddest songs on the line-up... or worse, the songs that Dan could specifically remember Phil goofily singing along to in the kitchen or the car when he was feeling particularly cheerful.

Needless to say, he ended up turning the radio off entirely in favor of silence. He basked in not having to think about or do anything until he reached their driveway and pulled the car to a stop. Then he worked almost robotically, unbuckling his own seat belt before climbing out of the car and walking around to Joey's door.

He opened it up as quietly as possible, doing his best not to wake the sleeping boy. He hesitated as he leaned over him to undo his seatbelt, gaze falling on Joey's face and causing a soft smile to grace his lips as he realized his son was drooling. He shook his head fondly, mopping it up with the hem of his shirt, rolling his eyes at the unimpressed face Joey pulled in his sleep.

After that, Dan gently maneuvered the boy into his arms and hoisted him up against his chest, kicking the door closed behind them. The short trip up the path toward their front door felt a lot longer with the added weight, but he couldn't bring himself to even want to complain. It was worth fumbling with the keys in the cold for two minutes as he struggled to unlock their front door, was even worth stubbing his toe on the table in the entryway, as long as Joey was happier in the long run.

"Dad?" Dan froze, halfway across the living room floor. He held his breath, hopeful that maybe Joey was simply talking in his sleep. That didn't seem to be the case, given the frustrated tired noise that was immediately huffed into the crook of his neck. Dan allowed his shoulders to sag in defeat, starting toward his son's room again at a much slower pace.

"Yeah?"

"How come Phil doesn't visit us anymore?" Joey's voice was much quieter than usual, something that could be dismissed as a sign of how tired he was, but it didn't feel like that. Sometimes Dan forgot how much kids picked up on, how intuitive Joey was in particular. Of course he realized that his father had been avoiding this topic like the plague for the past week. That didn't stop him from being curious though, it was his life too. He deserved to know, even if it hurt Dan to tell.

Swerving off course, Dan precariously toppled back onto the couch and brought Joey with him. A quick shuffle later and Dan had slumped back into his favorite sofa crease, an unruly head of curly hair resting on his chest and tickling the underside of his chin. He wrapped his arm around Joey's shoulders, pulling him closer. "Did you guys stop being boyfriends?"

"Something like that." He admitted carefully, trying to maintain eye contact despite the impossible angle their cuddling had induced. He didn't have much else to go off of though, could hardly monitor Joey's reaction when all he received in response to the confession was utter silence. Minutes ticked by before he finally gave up on hearing anything back and picked his son's sleeping body up, cradling him against his chest this time.

This time they managed to reach the hallway before Joey spoke up again, his voice even more muffled by sleep than before. A much smaller fist than his own wove around the fabric of the shirt Dan was wearing, clutching it tightly.

"I miss him."

"I know, I do too." Dan sighed, biting his lip.

--

Days passed, quickly adding up into weeks, and not once had Dan made the effort to reach out to Phil no matter how badly he'd wanted to. He just wasn't sure that anything substantial had changed. He didn't want to ask him to come back only to run into the same problem not long after and simply get a repeat of this whole process. Slowly, the amount of times Phil was brought up in daily conversation started to dwindle out, the impact he'd left on their lives subsiding. It helped that all of Phil's things having been picked up by a mutual friend of theirs (save for that one shirt Dan had selfishly kept, though he now had the decency to keep it in his closet along with the rest of his clothes).

Their relationship was the last thing on Dan's mind today though, considering he was currently running through last minute plans wearing his own favorite shirt. Today was a big day, it wasn't all that often that your son turned eight years old. This was only the second birthday that Dan had been lucky enough to know Joey through, but he was already determined to make it his best one yet. He would blow all the others out of the park, give his past self a run for his money. Ha, he thought Joey's seventh birthday was the best thing to grace the face of the Earth? Get ready for the big numero eight.

No one would be ready.

No one would be spared.

Already his lungs hurt from blowing up balloons, his kitchen had been claimed entirely by junk food and a cake so big that it made his table seem small, then there was the small matter of the best gift to ever be gifted by anyone in the history of gifting things: a dog. Not just any dog, oh no, Dan had taken extra care during their trip to the shelter a few weeks ago so see which of the adoptable pets fit best with what their family needed while still getting along with Joey. From the get-go there had been a clumsy adult pitbull with their last name on it, it was only a matter of time before Dan caved and went back again.

He did just that about a week ago, while he was in town shopping for Joey's party supplies. He hadn't even been planning on getting a dog just yet, figured that maybe he would give it another month just to be sure that his Youtube career wasn't fleeting, but seeing that that same poor dog was still there and lacking a home had struck a chord within him. He could give it that, a home.

And so he'd caved, getting the employees to reserve that adorable goof of a dog until he would be back for it a short week later, the evening after Joey's birthday party. Name a surprise present better than a lifelong friend? It was impossible, couldn't be done.

Now he just had to keep his mouth shut all morning and until the end of the party, determined to drop the bomb on Joey just when the rest of the hype had started to fade so the festivities would last as long as possible. He wanted this to be the best day ever.

The only problem was that the best day ever couldn't start until Joey had gotten out of bed.

"Joey! Time to get up!" He called out, for what felt like the tenth time in the past twenty minutes since he'd deemed it time to wake the birthday boy. Say what you want about Joey, but the kid was damn determined to beat Dan's record for sleeping in and more often than not he got dangerously close to it before Dan had the heart to actually haul him out of bed.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his eyebrows skeptically at the blanket cocoon his son had wound himself up in. Squinted, unimpressed eyes glared back at him from the shadows between the bedding.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." A small voice grumbled out, barely recognizable as the bubbly tone Joey normally used.

Dan shook his head, turning away to go back to his previous task of setting up banners on the living room walls. By the time he'd finished that, he'd yet to be gifted with the presence of a familiar toothy smile. He narrowed his eyes, sulking back into the other room.

"Joey!"

"In a minute!" Joey snapped back, somehow twice as harshly. Dan slumped against the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor with a pout. This was entirely unfair, he was expecting to be met with some enthusiasm equal to his own. Last year Joey had been awake long before Dan even had time to start the decorating process, though he was clearly much more comfortable with his surroundings now than he had been back then. That was a good thing, Dan wanted him to feel at ease here, but God would it kill the kid to humor him a little bit? He did not stay up all night sorting out the perfect treat bags and filling the collection of dinosaur-themed pinatas just the right amount for this reaction.

Dan rose to his feet, a wry little smile working its way across his face.

"Hey, I have a birthday surprise for you." This announcement was said in a teasing voice, clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and yet this was what had Joey scrambling head over heels out of the bed so fast he nearly face-planted. He ran across the bedroom floor, excitedly jumping up and down next at Dan's side.

"What is it?!" A thoughtful smirk engulfed Dan's face then, only growing wider as he clamped his hands over Joey's eyes and led him into the kitchen. Not a moment to spare, Dan swiped up some leftover frosting from the process of cupcake decorating (assisted by Louise, bless her soul) and smeared it across the bridge of the boy's nose.

"That's what you get for ignoring me!" He cackled wildly, running away into the other room and jumping over the arm of the couch to put distance between them.

"You suck!" Joey hollered after him, the sound of little feet pounding against the hardwood floors only confirming Dan's suspicions that he was being chased. Given that it was the kid's birthday and that had been a bit of a dickish move, he slowed down just enough to allow himself to be caught. Joey pounced on him, somehow managing to clamber up his side until Dan had no choice but to pick him up and hold him there. Immediately, icing was slapped onto his own face in retaliation, a fit of giggles following shortly after. "Can't I spend my entire birthday sleeping?"

"No sir!" Dan laughed back, hugging him tightly. "I wasn't kidding about the surprise thing, come on! Go get ready!"

It was after somehow managing to cart Joey off to the bathroom and convincing him to take a shower rather than a bubble bath, that Dan finally had a moment to relax. His decorating was finished, all the food was ready save for the pizza he'd already ordered for a later time, and many of the guests had already messaged to confirm they were coming. Everything was going exactly to plan and he couldn't be happier about it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and wondering if he should bother trying to straighten it. It wasn't like little kids were going to drag him for looking like a poodle.

Still, he wanted to look good, this would be his first time meeting some of the multitude of friends Joey had made over the course of the past year at school. Dare he say it, his son was definitely more popular than he'd been in school. He had to live up to the reputation that Joey had earned for himself.

He jumped to his feet, deciding that he'd straighten it after all, when the doorbell rang with a loud resounding chime through the room. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what asshole guest had decided to arrive nearly an hour earlier than scheduled. There always had to be one, damn it.

Plastering his best fake smile onto his face, he jogged over and tore the door open excitedly. The expression faltered immediately when his eyes fell on the familiar face on the other side of the door. He gulped, staring wide-eyed at the colorful eyes he'd almost managed to banish from his mind for the course of just one day.

"Phil?" Dan breathed, his chest already feeling tight. Upon hearing his name, Phil seemed to be rethinking his own decision to show up here, a plethora of mixed emotions flitting across his features. He opened his mouth to say something, only to snap his jaw back shut and nod. This wasn't good. This so wasn't a part of the plan. Abort mission. "Now isn't really a good time, I'm really busy and-"

"I understand." Phil cut off Dan's useless rambling, sticking his foot out just before Dan managed to close the door on him. A pitiful whine of protest escaped Dan's lips despite himself, disappointed that it hadn't been as simple as slamming the door shut and running away from his problems.

Phil cleared his throat, nodding his head to the colorful bag in his hands and making Dan wonder how in the hell he'd managed to miss that entirely. Even looking at the gaudy sparkling rainbow bows on it, Dan couldn't silence the part of his subconscious telling him that Phil's eyes were simply far more attention grabbing. "I bought this for Joey's birthday a few weeks ago and I thought about taking it back to the shop, but it just didn't feel right. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not, I'm sure he'll be happy to have an extra gift." His own voice sounded distant and foreign in his ears, like this was an entirely rehearsed interaction. Somewhere in the background, he could hear Joey shouting from the bathroom, likely asking his father to come help him pick out the right outfit or something of the like. Dan shot an apologetic look in Phil's direction, unable to miss the pained way that the other man was staring past his shoulder and into the house he'd once almost considered a home. Those eyes that he never quite could chase from his memory gave away exactly how much Phil missed those days.

Dan cursed himself for thinking that, hurriedly stepping back into the house. "Uh, thanks."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Phil responded, turning away abruptly, somehow before Dan had even managed to slam the door shut. Instead Dan was left staring after him, frozen in the spot as he choked on the words left unsaid.

It was harder after that, but if the guests could tell how much he was forcing his enthusiasm, none of them said anything. He was happy, of course, he was so happy for Joey. He was putting his all into the party the same way as before, but the difference was that a part of his all was the stinging pain he felt every time he heard the doorbell ring out and thought about who could be on the other side just a little too closely.

He'd somehow done a pretty good job of mingling and watching out for the kids as they rocketed in and out of the house. The backyard was a disaster area after the pinata situation, paired with Joey hauling out all of his dinosaur toys to play with in the mud, but that was to be expected. The parents that had stuck around seemed to be enjoying themselves as well, though most of them seemed more enamoured with Louise's skills as a host than Dan's. He couldn't fault her for that though, not when he needed every bit of help managing things that he could get.

When it finally started to grow near to the end of the event and he managed to round up all of the kids into one room for presents, he was all too relieved to settle back in a nearby armchair with his camera to film the entire process. More than once, he caught himself grinning so wide he feared his face was splitting as he watched Joey tear away wrapping paper time and time again. He held up each present with a proud grin, shaking it around through the air like an announcement to the entire room.

He was nearing the end of the pile and Dan was growing antsy, all too aware of the dog collar wrapped up that he'd hidden behind his back. He could feel it pressed into his skin, distracting him from what was happening in front of him. He was suddenly even more thankful that he was catching all of this on camera, he'd definitely have to watch it back later.

"Who's that one from?" Dan asked, tuning back into the situation as Joey ripped open yet another gift and peered at the contents. He paused when he was asked that question though, peering at the tag. It was only then, as his son's eyebrows shot up comically, that Dan realized he recognized the rainbow wrapping paper all too well.

"Uh, this one's from... Phil?!" He exclaimed loudly, clearly beyond shocked by the revelation. Dan swallowed gruffly, studying Joey's face to try and figure out whether he was hurt by the unexpected realization. He didn't look to be, but then why had he reacted so strongly?

"He stopped by to give you something earlier." Dan explained noncommittally, lowering his camera just enough to make eye contact with Joey over the top of it. He realized this for the mistake that it was when Joey jumped to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

"Is this the big surprise you were talking about?!" He questioned with a shout, jumping over the mess of papers and swerving between his friends to come to a stop in front of where Dan was sitting.

"What are you on about?" Dan laughed tensely, looking around the room to where everyone was staring in their direction. Joey demanded his full attention though, clamping his hands on either side of his face and leaning in so his face took up the entire view of the camera lense.

"Are you and Phil back together?!" He asked eagerly, grinning like mad. Dan wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but that certainly wasn't it. He shifted uncomfortably, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying the wrong thing. There were so many people looking at them, he had to act fast.

"Joey." He breathed, trying to keep his tone neutral. "We'll talk later, alright? Just see what he got you for now."

"Fine." Joey huffed, though the smile on his face hardly faded even as he turned away. Dan could already tell what an awful conversation this was shaping up to be. He would put it off for as long as possible though, make sure it was just the two of them present when it happened.

He felt dazed as he watched Joey dig into the gift bag, throwing a card to the side and then tugging a stuffed animal out. It took him about a fraction of a second to realize what was in his hands, long before Dan had processed it. "Dad! Look! It's just like Spike!"

"No, it's not. That's a triceratops, not a steg-"

"It's got the same tag that Spike came with!" Joey insisted, showing off the brand name hanging proudly from the dinosaur's collar. Dan swallowed roughly, remembering just how much money he'd been forced to cash out when Joey fell in love with Spike that day in America. That line of dinosaurs wasn't cheap, not by any means.

"Oh, my bad." He managed, forcing sarcasm into his words to cover up his shock. Dan shook it off hurriedly, noticing the weird look Joey gave him, even pausing his proud speech all about the particular species of dinosaur everyone was looking at to lift an eyebrow at his father. "Read the card!"

"Fine! But I'm not reading it out loud for your dumb video!" Joey replied, sticking his tongue out at the camera and winking. Dan rolled his eyes at the boy's antics, watching as he pulled his knees up against his chest, new stuffed-toy tucked securely under his chin. His eyes darted across the text on the card in the same hurried way they did every other time, eager to move on to the next gift. Dan noticed the moment he started to slow down, for once showing some interest in what he was reading. That was a relief, considering the only thing he ever wanted to read at any other point in time was books about dinosaurs.

"What's it say?" Dan asked loudly, curious what had caught his son's attention so well. He knew he'd done the wrong thing almost immediately afterward, watching in horror as Joey carefully tucked the card back into the envelope it'd come from and got to his feet. That wasn't normal. Where was the rush to the next gift? The childish impatience to move on as quickly as possible?

"I don't want to open anymore presents, I want to have cake now." Joey announced stubbornly, grabbing Spike and Not-Spike in his arms as he stared toward the kitchen. His friends all clambered after him, shouting a series of eager cries about how they wanted cake. Dan turned the camera off and jumped up to follow after them, weaving between bodies to settle a hand on Joey's shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd entirely.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, just hungry." Joey answered easily, smiling up at him. It was only as he watched his son run off to join his friends without another word, all too aware of the fact that that smile hadn't reached Joey's watery eyes, that it really resonated with Dan that he wasn't the only one capable of hiding how he was feeling.

--

After the guests had all gone home and it was just the two of them again, Dan would take Joey aside and explain the situation. Joey would continue to smile at him through it, like it'd been a rather simple misunderstanding and he didn't have a preference either way, but for once Dan would be able to see right through the act. Luckily, they had a trip to the animal shelter to fall back on and it took hardly any time at all to distract them both from the tense exchange when they were in a room of dogs.

A new family member slobbering excitedly in the backseat next to Joey later, they were both smiling and grinning the whole way home. They also discovered the wonder that was singing along to the radio and having the harmonies of a dog howling along with them, which was so entertaining to Joey that he nearly snorted milkshake through his nose. They were okay, Dan thought, they would be okay.

The rest of the evening was spent marathoning a certain favorite movie series (Dan could surely quote every Jurassic Park installment word for word) and snuggling up to their new companion on the couch. A discussion about what to name him probably should have happened before that, given that there was hardly any arguing with Joey when there was a roaring monstrous creature terrorizing the characters on screen drawing in all of his attention.

Rex it was, then. There were definitely worse names out there.

Rex didn't seem to care much either way. He was exactly how Dan had hoped, the same clumsy lovable pet that he'd been during their visit weeks before. He was excitable when the moment called for it, but also seemed all too content to snore loudly sprawled across their laps on the couch. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he'd picked the perfect dog for their family.

When the final installment in the series started to roll credits across the screen, Dan had to tickle attack Joey until he'd finally go to bed. Dan followed after him to make sure he brushed his teeth, even sat down next to him and read more than the necessary nightly quota of the chaptered book that always rested on Joey's nightstand, then tucked him in for the night and kissed his forehead. Then, just for good measure and because Joey had smacked him for being too "clingy" tonight, Dan kissed the dog's forehead as well and got himself shooed out of the boy's room entirely.

Dodging the dirty clothes being thrown at him, Dan ducked out of the room and headed back to the couch with a yawn. He only meant to check what was on, but before he knew it he was passed out on the couch and breathing against the armrest.

Hours passed before Dan woke again in the middle of the night, feeling groggy and disoriented as he looked around the room. He turned the television off, getting to his feet and rubbing his eyes as he wandered down the hall. He paused in front of Joey's room, peering inside before deciding to save power by turning off the sleeping boy's night light.

Dan paced across the floor, jumping when an unfamiliar yawn sounded and he looked up to find himself face-to-face with their newest addition. He huffed out a chuckle, patting Rex atop the head. He turned back to the task at hand then, pausing as a slither of white sticking out from beneath Joey's pillow caught his attention. He recognized the envelope for what it was easily enough, frowning at himself for even considering prying like he was surely about to.

His self-control was weak, that much was known. He carefully tugged the card out, looking over the colorful dinosaur cartoons adorning the front, thinking about how much time Phil had spent picking this card out at the time. Dan hesitated for a moment before opening it up, eyes widening at the giant brick of text scrawled out inside.

"Happy birthday, Joey! Now you're a whole year wiser, before you know it you'll be old enough to beat both your father and I at Scrabble (but you didn't hear that from me). You're also a whole year bigger, do you think you'll be taller than us soon too? Secretly, I hope so, I think your dad thinks too highly of himself just because he's the tallest in the house. Get it? Highly? Because he's higher up than everyone else? Okay, sorry, I know you hate puns." Dan snorted under his breath, immediately chastising himself for the noise and checking to make sure that he hadn't woken anyone up. Confident that Joey was still asleep, he looked back to the message and sighed. There was no denying that Phil had written this out, it was like every word screamed everything he was.

Dan missed it, the antics of having his boyfriend livening up the house, bringing a light into their lives that he'd never known he needed until he compared it to the dark he was left in afterward. He ran a hand through his hair, starting on the final half of the message. "I want you to tell me what you thought of your present! I saw it when I was running to a business meeting and it was so perfect that I risked being late just to stop and buy it for you. I was thinking it could be a girlfriend (or boyfriend!) for Spike, or maybe even a Spike Jr.? I think Spike deserves to have a family of his own so he doesn't get lonely, don't you?"

Dan stared at the card for a long, long time after that. Minutes passed by and still he couldn't decide on exactly what it was he was feeling in that moment, only that it was strongly. It always seemed to be like that with Phil, a constant bombardment of emotions so staggering that everything else paled in comparison. Initially, he was left wondering just how long it'd been since Phil had written out this message, if it was prior to their break-up or afterward. In the end, he decided it didn't really matter all that much, he knew that Phil had always been the type to feel that way.

His thought process was cut-off when a light touch settled on his hand just over where it gripped the card, squeezing his wrist and startling him. He jumped, jerking his head upward to gape at where Joey had sat up in his bed, clutching the covers to his chest.

"Dad?"

"Uh... yeah?" Dan asked, clearing his throat sheepishly. Joey sighed, seemingly hesitating as he looked hurriedly away to run his hands over the dog lying in at the foot of his bed. Nearly a minute passed before he spoke up again, even quieter than before. His voice was a mere whisper, though something told Dan right away that these weren't your usual sleepy ramblings, that they held a lot more meaning than the things normally exchanged between them after midnight.

"Do you think Phil gets lonely?" Joey asked, blinking rapidly as if to ward away tears. Dan's heart felt strained watching that, it really came as no surprise when he set the card aside to scramble into the tiny bed next to his son. Neither one of them hesitated to cuddle up together, leaning on each other for comfort in the tense moment.

More time passed like that, Joey distractedly toying with Dan's hand where it laid on the sheets between them. He sighed finally, looking up at his father with a curious glint in his eyes. "We were kinda like a family for a little while, huh?"

"Yeah." Dan answered gruffly, before thinking better of it and deciding this definitely wasn't the place to be putting up walls and getting defensive. Joey just wanted an earnest explanation, he deserved that much more than anyone else. "Yeah, we were."

"Can't you guys be friends again at least?" Joey whined finally, slapping his hands down against the bed and causing Rex to lift his head curiously in their direction. Dan shushed the dog before turning with intentions of doing the same to Joey, to try and calm him down before things got any worse, but it seemed like it was much too late for that. Quiet panicked noises flitted past his lips as he tried to shush the quiet sniffles of Joey crying next to him, steadily getting more worked up by the second.

This was the first problem they'd run into where Dan simply being there for him hadn't alleviated the hurt and the stress of it all. Joey seemed almost more worked up now than he had before. He drew a shaky breath, burying his face into Dan's shoulder. "I don't want him to be all alone like I used to be."

"Joey." Dan sighed, settling a tentative hand on the boy's back and rubbing it in comforting circles. He wasn't sure what else to say to make this situation any easier on either of them. "You know I don't want that either, but it's complicated."

"I know." He sighed, sounding just about as frustrated with the circumstances as Dan felt. He lifted his head finally, after successfully wiping his tears off on Dan's shirt, and pulled his absolute best puppy dog eyes. Dan knew what was coming even before he started to ask. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"What if Rex here starts to think that my bed is where he's supposed to sleep every night?" Dan tried, at least he could say that much, even though he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He shook his head, standing up next to the bed and holding a hand out. "Alright, come on."

"Yay!" Joey cheered, draping his blanket over his shoulders and leaning into Dan's side as he trailed after him, dog pacing along at his heels. It was no secret that Dan's bed was much comfier, but it did seem to be the world's greatest secret why there was such a risk of monsters under Joey's bed when never once had there been a threat under Dan's. It didn't matter though, Dan didn't mind the company nearly as much as he was letting on. He'd only spend the night sitting up feeling sorry for himself otherwise.

The three of them had all cuddled up in the much larger bed not long after, all snuggled into their respective blankets (the dog had been gifted a fuzzy blanket normally kept on the couch). It was the closest Dan had been to what looked to be a refreshing sleep in days after stressing so much over this party, but he should have known it was too good to be true. Just when he was on the brink of sweet, sweet unconsciousness... Joey decided he had more to say. "Remember when I said that having Phil around was exactly like having two dads again?"

"Yeah, you said it a lot actually." Dan commented distantly, feeling steadily worse the more he was reminded of just how much he'd given up the day that his relationship with Phil had died. They'd really had something great, the sort of thing that single parents spent years trying to find. It wasn't that Dan regretted what he'd done, he wasn't certain of his own emotions enough to deem it that just yet... but he definitely wasn't proud of it. If he had any choice in the matter, Phil would be lying right next to them right now animatedly talking about nonsense until they all drifted off to sleep.

"Well, I wasn't wrong, but... it was more like having two favorite dads, you know?" Joey continued, finding Dan's hand atop the covers and holding it tightly. "It wasn't like that before with my other dad, back then I always liked you the most because I knew that you cared about me the most. Whenever I needed something or someone to talk to, I always went to you first. You were the one that always knew what to say to make me feel better or went out of your way to do things that I would like too, but it never seemed like Chad cared about me enough to do those things. I kinda expected that to happen with Phil too, but instead it was like having another you around."

"Yeah?" Dan inquired, his chest feeling much tighter all of the sudden, both from the bomb of new information and hearing the name of the man he did his best to never even think about.

"I know I don't know as much as I think I do, but when we were all together it felt like what a family should feel like." Joey mumbled, snuggling closer to Dan's side. He sat up abruptly though, eyes wide like he'd just fully registered what was leaving his sleep-addled mind. "Not saying that we aren't a good family all on our own! You're a great dad and nothing's missing really! I love you lots and lots, I promise!"

"So what you're saying is that he was just a perfect addition to an already awesome thing, huh?"

"Yeah!" Joey agreed hurriedly, nodding his head. He could obviously see the pained look on Dan's face in the dark, probably thought that he'd put it there by insulting their credibility of a family or some bullshit like that, but that wasn't the case. It was just that everything he was saying was bringing it to Dan's attention in a way clearer than ever before that he'd made a mistake, a damn big mistake. "Even though we're complete all on our own, it still feels like something's missing now that I know it can be even more awesome."

"I see."

"I'm sure there are other people like Phil out there though, I don't want him to come back if it wouldn't make you happy, too."

"It would make you happy, then?"

"Yeah." Dan drew a sharp breath, ignoring the way it seemed to burn his lungs when he was working so hard to fight away tears. He wasn't going to cry. That wouldn't help the situation, that would only make Joey second-guess himself more. He didn't care how hard it was to hear, he always wanted his son to be comfortable talking to him when he was upset or bothered by something.

"I probably should have asked you how you felt about all of this a long time ago, rather than assuming like I did."

"You know what assuming does to a person, Dad?" Joey responded in a singsong tone, clearly doing his part to lighten up the mood. Dan relaxed back against the pillows, shaking his head despite knowing exactly where this was headed.

"What?"

"It makes an ass out of 'u' and 'me'!" Joey exclaimed wickedly, cackling now that he'd gotten away with saying one of the many words that had been outlawed in their household. He'd taught him that joke unintentionally one day when they'd first met, had been left to regret his life decisions and how frequently swears tumbled past his lips ever since. They had a swear jar, he was serious about this whole being a good influence thing! Dan was his own worst enemy in that case though, as most of the money in that jar ended up coming from his own pocket.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Dan groaned, playfully shoving Joey toward the edge of the bed. A desperate plea for forgiveness and little hands clawing at his arm and Dan decided to show mercy just this once. "That joke is the only time you're allowed to say that word, you know that?"

"Yes, Dad." Joey groaned, kicking at him under the covers. He sneered when Dan glared back at him for this act of injustice, even going so far as to stick his tongue out. "Go to sleep, you look like a zombie... it's gross to look at."

"Brat." Dan groaned, an idea sparking in his mind. He reached over, prepared to clamp his hand down in a faux-bite for emphasis as he started through the tell tale bedtime speech, but with a twist. "Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the... Tyrannosaurus bite!"

"You're such a loser." Joey groaned, though Dan was convinced that underneath all those layers of sarcasm he'd surely found the creative genius behind that endearing. He smiled, gathering the boy up in his arms and hugging him so tightly that Joey was left to claw at his arms again in retaliation, unable to squirm away otherwise.

"A loser that loves you very much."

"I love you too." Joey choked out dramatically, before suddenly going limp and faking his own death for emphasis. Dan huffed, letting him go and falling back against the pillows.

He was glad that they'd talked about this. Knowing where Joey stood made it a lot easier to justify how he felt, how desperately he'd been missing Phil and wanting him back from the start. He wasn't being weak, he was doing what felt right for all of them. Being weak would be to keep denying themselves the chance to make it right and try things again.

He decided then that he would reach out tomorrow, make the call he'd been dreading for so long and tell Phil that he wanted him back. He couldn't promise it'd be perfect, but he was going to damn well try. He wanted it too much not to.

--

"Hello?" Phil answered the next morning, his voice gruff as it filtered through the speakers. Dan shifted nervously where he sat alone at the kitchen table, having just seen Joey off on the bus for school. The house was empty save for him, the perfect time for Phil to come back and celebrate their reunion. Dan would try to convince himself that he wasn't thinking about reunion sex when he decided to wait until Joey was gone to make this call, but Dan wasn't a liar.

"Did I wake you?" He asked, scuffing his socks over the tiled flooring.

"No." Phil answered, though he sounded somehow uncertain in a way that was oddly off-putting. Dan shifted, wondering if he'd made a mistake, misinterpreted how Phil felt about them getting back together after all. He was under the impression that being able to reach out was a lasting offer, that he had some time to make his decision and now that he had everything would fall back into place.

"Is this a bad time?"

"Kinda?" Oh no. That was the opposite of a good thing. Even though Phil didn't sound frustrated, or even fully convinced that this was in fact a bad time, it wasn't the kind of thing Dan had been hoping to hear in response. It was in his nature to assume the worst. Did Phil not want this anymore? Did Dan miss his shot because he was too much of a coward to reach out before now?

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, thankful when Phil took the plunge and spoke up again long before Dan would have been able to come up with a back-up plan. "N-No, nevermind what I just said, it's not. We can talk now, I'll make it a good time."

The sound of a mattress creaking under lost weight, the creak of a door opening and closing, followed by a faint feminine call was all it took to piece the strange hesitation together. The realization hit Dan like an oncoming train and he blushed so hard it felt like flames were licking his face. Somehow, in his jealousy fueled brain with a heart laced with hurt, that stung worse than an outright rejection would have.

"Are you with someone right now?" Dan grit out through his teeth, feeling his blood boiling. All sound from the other end of the line ceased as Phil presumably stopped in his tracks, caught off guard by being called out.

"Dan." Phil breathed, his voice even like he thought that alone would be enough to calm Dan enough for him to start thinking rationally again. He wasn't thinking rationally, he was thinking emotionally. And his emotions felt damn betrayed that Phil was with someone else while he'd spent weeks being able to think of nothing but those infuriating blue eyes that had blinked back at him so many mornings.

"Oh my god, you really are. You had the nerve to tell me you would be there for me and wait as long as it took, but you've been sleeping around this entire time?! Am I not important enough for your time when you aren't getting a good fuck out of it every other d-"

"That's not-"

"Phil." Dan interrupted him, his tone cold and final in its execution. He took a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn't stutter as he said these next words. They needed to be said, it was the only possible way to make any progress from here. "Don't... don't come around here again, okay? Promise me that? I think it'll be easier on all of us to have a clean break. I want to be able to move on from this, I want Joey to be able to move on from this."

A long pause. A broken sigh.

"I promise."

"Thank-you." Dan responded, sounding hollow more than anything in that moment. This was it then, so much for making up and fixing the mistake he'd made. Perhaps it hadn't been a mistake after all if he was really seen as something so easy to let go of that Phil was already with other people. "Goodbye, Phil."

--

"Dad! Hey! Watch this!" Joey called demandingly from the field, jumping up and down on the base he was covering. Dan smirked, shaking his head fondly as he watched his son totally own the local children's softball leagues. Unfair, not only was Joey the most popular family member, he also got to be the sportiest? What was this cruel life that Dan lived?

"I'm watching!" He called back, cupping his hands over either side of his mouth. It was hardly a surprise when Joey effortlessly caught the ball in the air and struck out another player from the opposing team, but Dan pretended to be thrilled all the same. He wasn't a sports person, but he could get with anything that made Joey look so very proud of himself. "Good job!"

The rest of the game played out in a way much similar to how they usually did. A ball flew threw the air a lot, there were kids wearing gloves, kids swinging a dangerous bat around and nearly hitting people time and time again. And Joey's team won, they nearly always won, being the best local division as it was.

"We won! You promised to take me out for pizza and an ice cream sundae if we won, remember?!" Joey yelled, bouncing over the bleacher benches one by one to sidle up beside Dan. He snatched the backpack between Dan's feet, gathering out his change of clothes and a spare water bottle that Dan always packed, despite Joey always insisting he wouldn't need it.

"I do." Dan agreed, throwing an arm around Joey's shoulders just before he took off to go regroup with the team in the changing rooms. He tugged the boy into his side, mussing up his hair. "I'm so proud of you."

"Dad!" Joey cried, oblivious to the fact that Dan was well-aware of the embarrassment he was inflicting upon the poor child.

"What?"

"Um, yuck? I don't want you getting all mushy when my friends are watching." Despite the fact that he was only doing this to get a rise out of Joey, he took personal offense to being called the word "mushy" in any context whatsoever. He huffed, letting the boy go only to immediately grab him and steady him when he tried to take off far too quickly.

"Fine, I'll save the mush." Dan shouted after him as he ran back to join his friends, the lot of them hooting and hollering about sports nonsense. Dan would put up with it though, constantly reminding himself that the softball season only ran for a couple months of the year. He could surely sacrifice that in exchange for how patient and loving Joey had been to him since coming into his life.

It'd been two full months since he'd turned eight now, already Dan could feel himself getting sentimental whenever he looked at him. He was all too aware of how quickly the little boy he'd adopted just over two years ago now was growing up. He wanted to make the most of all their time together, even if it was by hyping up sports events that he couldn't care less about personally.

When Joey came running back to him, it was just in time to duck under Dan's umbrella as the clouds started to sprinkle rain down on them. He huddled against his father's side, eyeing the ominous clouds that'd gathered overhead. "How's about we get out of here before the skies open up?"

"Good idea." Joey agreed, ambling to grab the umbrella from Dan's hand. Just because it was a special outing and Dan was quite possibly the best father to ever live, he allowed Joey to hold the umbrella this once. Now, keep in mind that he was much taller than those little arms could possibly reach, meaning his hair was constantly rubbing up against the static-fueled material of the umbrella itself, as well as being constantly drenched with water as Joey spun it around. The sacrifices he made for this boy, unreal.

The drive back home proved to be much more stressful than even a sports-related outing could be. The rain had started to come down in buckets, pounding against the windshield so heavily that Dan was struggling to see so much as a few feet in front of him. It didn't help that the sun had mostly set now, that the light outside was beyond limited. They almost always went to the same diner after games to celebrate, but for once Dan was really questioning how far away it was.

Joey leaned forward in his carseat, trying to peer around Dan's seat at him. "How can you even see with that much rain coming down?"

"Not very good, so we have to go really slow." Dan spoke through his teeth, eyes narrowed in a level of concentration that couldn't possibly be rivalled. He wasn't about to get distracted in conditions like this, not with so much on the line. He would take as much time as possible to reach his destination, just as long as they made it home safely.

As he drove down one of the less occupied roads, a shortcut that he'd discovered after getting lost on their way here one day, Dan was blinded by blaring headlights in a nearby ditched. Dan gulped, looking back to the road immediately and slowly crawling past the scene of the accident.

Joey was not so casual about the sighting.

"Did you see that?! Someone's car was in the ditch!" He shouted, pressing his face to the glass of his window. Dan sighed, slowing down just a little bit more so he could spare a bit of his attention into the conversation at hand.

"I did."

"Dad, we have to stop and help them."

"What?" Dan spluttered, nearly bringing the car to a complete stop. "We can't! It's pouring out, I'll just call 999 and they'll take care of-"

"What if someone's hurt and they don't get here fast enough!?" Dan sighed, already knowing that the desperate panicked tone Joey had taken on wasn't one to be taken lightly. If he really left now and refused to help, Joey would never let him live it down. He'd bring it up for weeks, would stress over whether these people made it out alright or not. Damn it, why did Dan have to raise such a morally sound child?!

"Stay in the car, you hear me?" He ordered, veering off to the side of the road and thanking his past self for driving so slowly that they still weren't far past the wrecked car. He turned around the moment the car was off, unbuckling his seat belt so he could face Joey properly. He handed him back the glowing screen of his cell-phone. "If you need anything at all, honk the horn. I'm going to lock the doors behind me, just in case, I'll leave my phone with you. You know your grandmother's number, don't y-"

"Hurry up!" Joey urged, clearly convinced that this was a matter of life or death.

"I'll be right back." Dan promised him, turning and grabbing the umbrella to take with him. He crossed the road quickly enough, precariously studying the car that was currently flipped over on its roof. He slid down the muddy incline of the ditch, pacing over to the driver's side and peering through the window. He furrowed his eyebrows together before prying open the door. "Phil?"

"What a sight for sore everything you are." Phil groaned, grinning broadly up at him. Dan opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it, putting his own emotions entirely on hold as his protective instincts kicked into high gear. He kneeled beside Phil, sliding the backpack off his shoulders to grab a pair of scissors. He tested the seatbelt to be sure, but when it refused to unbuckle under Phil's weight, he cut through it.

"Are you hurt?" He heard himself asking, though it was hard to make out over the sound of his teeth chattering in the damp, cool air.

"Just bruised mostly, I think." Phil answered, only to yelp loudly when the seatbelt caved and gravity brought him down accordingly. He sheltered one arm against his chest, despite the fact it would have been the easier one to catch himself with, and Dan lifted an eyebrow at him for that. "My, uh, arm might be a little bit broken, not sure."

"Jesus." Dan sighed, reaching out to grip onto Phil's chest and gently as possible. "Let's get you out of here."

"Thanks, Dan." Phil breathed, face scrunched up in discomfort as Dan maneuvered them both away from the scene of the crash. He helped Phil toward the steep side of the ditch, doing his best to balance their weight as they both started to slip and slide through the mud.

"Don't thank me yet, we might both end up drowning at this rate." Dan grumbled in frustration, trying repeatedly until they finally made it up onto the road. He held the umbrella over their heads to the best of his ability with one hand, the other dedicated entirely to keeping Phil supported. "Are you okay to walk?"

"Yeah, my vision's a little fuzzy, but nothing I can't handle." Phil answered, though even as he explained this he leaned heavier into Dan's side in a way that made it clear he wasn't to take back the support he'd offered. Dan took a deep breath and got ready to lead them the rest of the way, stopping in his tracks as a voice yelled over the sound of water pounding against the pavement.

"Phil!"

"Joey! Get back in the car!" Dan yelled, anger rising in his voice for one of the few times he could remember when addressing Joey. By the time they'd gotten back to the vehicle and Dan had helped Phil into the backseat next to Joey, he'd managed to calm down just enough to keep from raising his voice at the boy. He reached over, wringing out the pant leg of Joey's soaked outfit for emphasis as he started to speak. "What were you thinking?! You're going to be sick sitting in those wet clothes all the way h-"

"Are you okay?" Joey blurted out, completely ignoring his father as he turned to Phil and raked his eyes over the dishevelled state the man was in. Phil sighed, leaning his head back and shrugging.

"Never been better."

"Was that sarcasm?" Joey questioned, narrowing his eyes at him. Despite the residing anger and all the tension between the three of them, they couldn't help but huff out a laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of that question. The sound was abruptly cut off, however, when Joey reached over to gingerly grab the hand that wasn't being supported carefully against Phil's chest. "Here, I'll hold your good hand until we get there to make you feel better."

"Thank-you." Phil laughed, eyes that had previously been narrowed in pain softening into a look of admiration as Joey dutifully held onto his hand as promised. Phil turned to look back at Dan, the both of them exchanging a pair of brief awkward blushes before turning away. This was going to be one fun drive to the hospital, not at all anxiety-inducing to have your ex you harbor feelings for sitting in the backseat and looking just like the part of your family he once was.

--

Dan jolted upright, unintentionally jostling the sleeping Joey huddled against his side. He eyed the nurse expectantly, exhaling in relief when they turned to face him directly. The relief was short-lived though, as almost immediately more worst case scenarios started to flood his mind. What if the news she was here to break wasn't pleasant? The stakes weren't so high now as they'd been while Joey was awake and listening for news, but hell if it wouldn't hit him like a moving freight train if anything serious was wrong with Phil.

And then, clearly oblivious to all of Dan's internal struggles, the nurse smiled at them both and gestured toward the room he'd seen Phil led into earlier.

"You can see him now." It took him less than a minute to gather Joey into his arms, ignoring the grumbling noises of protest from the sleeping form as he rushed after the nurse. They were left alone as soon as the door had been opened, leaving Dan to gape at where Phil was sitting up casually in the hospital bed in the middle of the room. He looked bored more than anything else, flipping through a magazine with the arm that wasn't encased in a cast.

He looked up as Dan walked into the room, grinning warmly at the thought of finally receiving some decent company. The gesture wasn't returned though, leaving him to stare in confusion as Dan hastily deposited Joey into one of the armchairs designated for guests. The next time their eyes met, after Dan had spun around impatiently like he couldn't wait a moment longer, Phil could clearly see the tears building in the other man's eyes.

"You're a goddamn idiot, you know that? You're lucky someone was driving down that barren road at all in that nightmarish storm!" Dan yelled, suddenly uncaring whether he woke the sleeping boy behind him despite all the precautions he'd just gone through to avoid it. He was mad, probably unreasonably so, but the strong emotions clouding his thoughts were making it difficult to filter out what reactions were acceptable and what ones weren't.

Phil leaned back, quirking an eyebrow.

"It wasn't like I was dying, Dan." In his defense, he wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Dan right now and seeing the other man come into this with his voice already raised wasn't exactly the positive sign he'd been looking for. Still, that didn't excuse the sarcasm in his voice, not to Dan at least.

He stomped over to the bed, throwing his arms through the air in a wild series of gestures that definitely didn't make sense. He took a deep breath, trying and failing to get out the counter argument that would surely deem him the winner of this bickering contest. In the end, he ended up giving out a frustrated huff and splaying himself over Phil in a clumsy hug of sorts. Not the retaliation either of them had been expecting really, but there weren't any complaints to be heard.

"You could have!" Dan replied sharply, near enough to Phil's ear that he got to watch the way the latter recoiled from the sound. It was during his victory smirk, where he thought about how he'd certainly won and would walk away from this looking like the bigger person, that Dan really realized what he'd just said and what the overwhelming emotion in his chest was. He wasn't mad. Oh no, that would be way too easy, he was devastated with worry to the point that all ten of his fingernails had been chewed down to shameful nothingness while he was sitting in the waiting room waiting for this moment.

He blinked, suddenly letting out a choked sob as tears started to trace his cheeks. Initially Phil looked surprised by this development, but in a matter of seconds a fond familiarity had settled over the two of them. "Oh my god, you could have died."

"You'll worry yourself sick one of these days, you know that?" Phil sighed, leaning forward to wipe away Dan's tears and land gentle kisses to the places they'd been before. He pulled back, pressing his forehead against Dan's and reveling in the closeness between them. "I didn't die, Dan, I'm right here. You were there for me when I needed it, thank-you."

"You're welcome." Dan breathed, reaching out to experimentally trail his fingertips over the material of the cast on Phil's arm. He couldn't bear to look him in the eye right now, not with what he was about to say and the weakness he was about to show. "I've missed you so much, i-it never really occurred to me that we might not ever see each other again. Even when I asked you to stay away, I didn't expect it to last. If something had happened to you before we got the chance to see each other again, I never would've lived that down."

"I'm sorry."

"For being a reckless driver?"

"No, for messing things up between us so badly that you'd have to worry about those things." Phil clarified, reaching up with his good hand to card his fingers through the wavy mess of hair falling in Dan's eyes, having grown unruly in the humidity they'd faced before.

Phil took a deep breath, hand sliding slowly downward to cup one side of Dan's face, their gazes locking in an entirely open way. For once, there didn't seem to be any guards put up between them and damn if Phil was going to miss his chance to say his piece. "The least I could have done was try to actually make things right and give you guys some closure. I care about you both too much not to give you that"

"Phil."

"I moved too fast, I get that now. It was just new to me, before you I was in no rush to settle down, I didn't even plan on having kids when I was older. Then I had all these things I'd never put any thought into or never expected myself to have until years down the road, it was overwhelming." He took a deep breath, lungs failing him when he was so determined to say everything on his mind as soon as possible, sooner than could be done if he paused to inhale mid-speech. "In a good way, if that wasn't obvious. I couldn't get enough of it, couldn't believe I had it. I just wanted to make the most of every moment and I know that was a lot to handle. I acted like I had a place in your family right from the get-go and that was wrong of me, I should have respected your boundaries more."

"It wasn't like I set any boundaries." Dan sighed, settling into the chair by Phil's bedside and preparing himself to say all of the things he'd thought about so far past the point of sane that it was laughable. He needed to get this off his chest, whether it was received well or not, it'd been far too long dreaming about this chance for him to pass it up. Closure. It was closure no matter what happened between them after this, as that self-conscious part of Dan that had hid it all away for so long would finally be at peace with himself.

He looked down at his lap, wringing his hands together to stall for time. "Phil, I was scared. After my last marriage... I told myself never again would I rush into anything. I'd just grown comfortable with the idea of being a single parent when you showed up and made me question my role all over again. It wasn't that I didn't like it, I just didn't expect it. I didn't know how to deal with the fact that I didn't have to do everything all on my own, that it was okay to relinquish a bit of control to someone else. Even before, with him, it wasn't like that, I was always the one that put my all into everything. My ex wasn't exactly reliable, h-he didn't care like you did."

"You should have said something, I would have understood."

"It was just hard to admit, I guess." Dan mumbled, looking up through his lashes for the first time since putting it all out there in the open. He was scared that Phil would be looking at him differently now, seeing the insecure side of him that'd been leftover after the utter failure that was his first serious relationship. There was no judgment in those calm blue eyes though, only the love that Dan had never thought himself worthy of until this moment.

Phil leaned closer, moving so slowly that it was blatantly obvious he wasn't sure where he stood, wanted to make sure Dan was comfortable with him trying to find out before he did anything. In a rush of adrenaline, Dan brushed off his nerves and cleared the space between them in record time, messily bringing their mouths together in a kiss fueled with so much overdue passion that it was nearing on the brink of intoxicating.

By the time they pulled away, they were both so short of breath that it wouldn't have been physically possible to go on for any longer, though Dan was willing to try until Phil started giggling breathily against his lips. Then they were both at it, laughing so hard at their own stupidity that Dan had to brace himself on the edge of the mattress as he shook with mirth. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, but there was a brightness behind them that had been absent for far too long.

"Can we try this again?" Phil questioned when they finally managed to get control over themselves, the pair of them leaning back and breathing heavily while lazily allowing their eyes to roam over what they'd been missing out on for months.

It wasn't really that Dan hadn't expected the question, obviously that was the direction they were currently headed in and truthfully he couldn't be happier about that, but it still startled him. As if he could see every trace of apprehension that flickered across Dan's face, Phil reached over as far as he could manage, waving his hand through the air until Dan finally took it and held onto it.

They smiled at each other, basking in their mutual understanding of each other for once. Phil would never let this go again, he was certain of that much. "I'll do better this time, I'll let you know how I feel every step of the way, I'll reassure you even when it doesn't seem like you need it. We'll talk it out even when we don't want to, even when it's easier to ignore. I won't just be there for Joey, I'll be there for you too."

"Why?" Dan sighed, but he didn't sound reprimanding as much as he sounded amused, like he couldn't possibly fathom why Phil was so set on being with him. Nevermind that that left Phil writing a very boldly-worded mental note to himself that he would have to constantly remind Dan of how much he meant to him and why this time around. "Phil, I'm a wreck. It would be so much easier for you to find someone else that has their shit together, that knows what they want."

"Yes, but I know what I want and it's you." Phil insisted, squeezing the hand encased in his own in a reassuring gesture. "I don't want anyone else. I've tried to want literally anyone else, it just doesn't work anymore. No one makes me feel like you did, like you do."

"You know how you make me feel?"

"Hm?" Phil hummed, prompting Dan to continue even though he couldn't necessarily trust his own voice to carry him in that moment. His mind was screaming at him, heart pounding with a stupid giddy sense of excitement at the prospect of what was about to happen. He'd always known how Dan felt, in theory anyway, but the man was so private about his emotions that it left Phil to assume or guess more often than not. He just wanted to have it spelled out for him, just once, then he could settle for simply knowing how Dan felt without reminders.

He gulped, looking over at Dan with an anxious grin. In an instant, the meek expression Dan was wearing had morphed into something teasing, a hand slapping Phil on the arm.

"Fucking stressed!" Dan roared, hitting him playfully until Phil pleaded for mercy against the onslaught of pinches and slaps. Dan panted, leaning over him to brush their lips together again, nipping at Phil's bottom lip as he pulled away with a smirk on his face. "Don't you ever, ever do that to me again. I was so worried that you weren't going to wake up, that I'd never get the chance to tell you how I feel."

"You still haven't." He hadn't meant to point it out, he really hadn't, but after getting so close to almost having what he needed to hear so badly... it was hard not to think about it. They were together for months, Phil had worn his heart on his sleeve the entire time. It wasn't that he wanted the same from Dan, he respected that not everyone was as open as he was, but he just needed the reassurance that he wasn't the only one feeling this way.

"What?" Dan questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together.

"You still haven't told me how you feel." Phil spoke softly, forcing a smile in hopes of making the mood something casual. Even now, he didn't want to force Dan into saying anything he wasn't entirely comfortable with, even though the wait was practically killing him. "Come on, what happened to our healthy communication pact?"

For a long, dreadful moment Dan simply stared at him. There wasn't a trace of decipherable emotion on his face no matter how Phil searched for it, leaving him to sit there with his heart lodged somewhere in the column of his throat, prepared for the most brutal rejection of his entire life.

As it turned out, his preparations were in vain. Before he had the chance to try and take it back before the blow could hit, Dan had engulfed him in another hug. This one was much tighter than the last, but Phil couldn't complain about the pressure it put on his bruising because Dan was smiling. He was laughing and holding onto him like Phil hadn't just asked him to do the one thing he had spent so many months avoiding. Something really had changed in the time they'd been apart.

"I love you so much it fucking hurts." Dan practically sang, scattering kisses across any expanse of exposed skin he could find on Phil. He pulled back before he spent too long lingering by his collarbone, knowing better than to continue with that particular path any longer. "It took me a while to realize what I was feeling, but the moment it clicked I nearly drowned in it. It was like I'd been tossed into the deep end, struggling to keep my head above water. I was so frightened that it'd be like last time all over again."

"I will never hurt you like he did, Dan." Phil breathed, sounding entirely earnest. And Dan believed it, more than he'd ever believed in anything in his life.

"I know that now!" He exclaimed, blushing like mad and avoiding Phil's gaze. He didn't want to talk about the state he'd been reduced to by that promise, didn't want Phil to know the full effect that his words had on him. "I, um, I think I knew that all along. It was just hard to admit it to myself, especially when I'd put so much effort into building up walls to keep people like him out of my life. It never really occurred to me how other people–good people–were meant to get past them."

"I found a way." Phil murmured softly, tracing his fingertips along the swell of Dan's cheekbone affectionately. He leaned forward, brushing their noses together before speaking against the other's lips in a mockery of the kisses they'd shared just prior. It didn't matter though, this one felt somehow much more meaningful than even those had. He closed his eyes, saturating in their closeness and the knowledge that he'd never give it up again. "I love you too."

"But do you love him to the moon and back like I do?" Needless to say, they were both equally as startled by the interjection of a third person in the room. Dan jumped backward like he'd been struck by someone, his eyes wide and excuses seemingly perched on the tip of his tongue, but he hardly had time to hide his blushing cheeks or get a word out before Joey had jumped haphazardly onto the foot of Phil's hospital bed.

"Don't sneak up on people!" Dan huffed out belatedly, taking an embarrassing amount of time to get control over himself. Joey rolled his eyes, crawling closer to poke curiously at Phil's cast. The way that his eyes lit up upon seeing it made it clear that he definitely had intentions of scribbling all over it the first chance that he got.

"I didn't sneak!" Joey argued, looking up to scowl at Dan in a way that probably wasn't anywhere near as intimidating as he wanted it to be. "I just walked over here! Not my fault you were too busy staring at each other to notice!"

"Come here, you demon child." Dan sighed, the three of them giggling when Joey threw himself over Phil's lap and into Dan's open arms. That spurred a bit of an awkward three-person hug that wasn't quite as easy as it should have been with one of Phil's arms out of commission, but they made it work. They would always find a way to make it work from now on.

--

"I know we're both your favorite, but if you had to choose..." Dan trailed off, grinning devilishly in the direction of where his son was sitting on the edge of the mattress, engrossed in the cartoons playing out on the overhead television. There wasn't a moment of hesitation before the boy replied, without even looking away from the screen, as if it were the most casual question he'd ever been asked.

"Phil."

"What? Why?!" The fit of laughter sounding next to him was entirely uncalled for and he elbowed Phil just barely hard enough to be felt, unsure whether he was more genuinely offended at losing his title or happy that everything had fallen back into place so easily.

"You promised me a pizza and a sundae! I didn't get either!"

"Betrayed by my own son, what a cruel way to go." Dan sighed dramatically, slouching further against Phil and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"You'll live." Joey responded indifferently, uncaring toward his father's suffering. He turned back to Phil, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made it all too clear he was up to no good. "You know, the nurse mentioned that if you press this button for help, you can ask her to bring you food."

"Oh?"

"Any kind of food you want!" He continued, holding up his hand to list off things on his fingers. By now, it was clear what he was scheming, why he'd been so quick to make his decision between them. "Pizza, sundaes, all kinds of things."

"You little suck-up!" Dan hissed, lifting his head from where it was resting on Phil's shoulder to glare at the foot of the bed. Joey shrugged, offering up a toothy grin in response.

"I learn from the best."

"Can your love really be bought that easily? Shameful." Dan clicked his tongue, only stopping when he caught Phil reaching over to press that aforementioned button. He gaped at the man until finally Phil turned back and realized that he was being watched, a sheepish grin prying up the corners of his mouth in a way that surely shouldn't have been quite so endearing. Dan sighed, already feeling the fight leaving him all at once. "You're gonna spoil him rotten, you know that?"

"It would be my privilege."

(psst: there's also potential for a third part if you guys wanna see that, lemme know what u think)