Phan Oneshots

Sunset

The sky is black velvet rippled with veins of purple light. The dusty glow of distant streetlamps casts a haze over the sleeping city. Bright lights of fast cars and tall buildings shatter the darkness of the Western sky; but here, on a slated rooftop at the edge of the city, all is dark. Phil's hand is in Dan's. Dan's head on his shoulder. Together, they stare silently eastwards. Their quiet breathing fills the cool night; the traffic noise muffled by tall buildings. Here, they are above the city. Part of the night.

They talk in low voices now and then, sharing a steaming flask of coffee. A mottled blanket is wrapped around their shoulders and they sit on fold-up camping chairs pushed close together. Phil's hair blends into the night and his face is pale and iridescent under the pallid light of the moon. Dan's face is obscured by a mop of tousled hair and Phil's sloping shoulders, the glimmer of his eyes catching the light as they stare sleepily out from under the blanket.

"I swear the sun has never been so slow." Dan's voice is a murmur above the purr of the city.

"I don't mind." Phil says.

Dan smiles ruefully. "Me neither. You're warm."

"I'm glad I'm useful for something."

Dan looks up, trying to make out Phil's expression in the half-light. "You did everything you could have." He says softly. "And so much more. I couldn't have asked for anyone better."

They are quiet again. Perhaps the sun is rising, and perhaps it's not. Phil has a camera set up on a tripod to record it. It's a special one.

"It still wasn't enough." Phil says, looking straight ahead.

"It was never going to be. We knew that."

"I know, but that didn't stop me hoping."

A hint of light is growing on the horizon.

"It's going to be a good one." Dan says confidently. "You know, this might be the first time we've done a sunrise together. We're so lazy. Definitely more of a sunset couple."

Phil considers. "We've probably been up and together for a few, but you're right. We've never got up early especially to catch it."

Dan's skin looks unusually pale in this light. He's smiling ever so slightly, and Phil is watching him, but he's not smiling.

The glow is stronger now and radiating upwards and outwards, spilling into the folds of the night sky and sweeping outwards with tendrils unfurling in every direction. Shafts of pale light reach towards the stars, turning the night from black to grey to soft yellow as they pass. A bird flies silhouetted from North to south and it seems to drag all the purple in the world behind it, dropping it like thick, gloopy rain onto the scene below to flood the streets and buildings. Another bird is singing and a little to the left the tip of a wisp of cloud is caught by a sunbeam and dyed brilliant pink with streaks of crimson and orange.

Phil is seeing black and white. He knows an orange glow is swelling on the horizon and threatening to burst burning into view, but as much as he fights it looks grey. He knows that Dan is warm and soft and nestling comfortably into his side, but his boyfriend feels cold and hard. He knows Dan is breathing, but he can't feel the breath on the back of his hand despite the fact Dan's chapped lips are touching his skin. Phil is shivering. There is a blanket around his shoulders but as the world is saturated with colour in front of his unseeing eyes it feels like ice.

At seven, they go back inside and pack two bags. At half-nine, the taxi arrives. Occasionally Dan cracks a joke and Phil feels suddenly warm again. He smiles a big, dopey grin and Phil can see the flush of Dan's cheeks and the pink of his lips. He kisses Phil and the warmth runs like hot water deliciously down his spine. He kisses Phil again twenty-four minutes later and it feels like ice cold terror.

He turns his head to wave once more to Phil as the nurse wheels him into the theatre and if there's something colder than ice this is it.

It's forty-seven minutes into the surgery and suddenly Phil looks up at the walls which are grey and light that doesn't seem to be working and he knows the sun has set.

* * *

I wrote this probably more than 2 years ago (holy shit) as a bit of a joke because people were complaining in the comments here about me always killing phil but i didn't post it as it's not exactly original and inspiring and i'd completely forgotten about it, however i'm eyebrow deep in horrifying exams and it's going to be a while before i can post anything so when i found it i thought heck why not lmao