[He pushes lightly on Day's chest, but with no ulterior motives this time-- he just wants to lie down so that they can curl up together. Now that the heat of the moment has faded, he's starting to feel more than a little cold.]
[ Day allows himself to be pushed down, wrapping an arm around Phil's waist so they cuddle together comfortably. ]
G'night, Phil.
[ ...It's been so long since he last shared a bed with someone else, in multiple senses. Getting to do it with someone he adores is like a dream come true. ]
[Phil curls closer; then, after a moment of hesitation, he shifts so that he can rest his head on Day's chest and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. As long as he can hear that, he can be reassured that all of this is real and not just another dream.
This warmth, this love, this gentle embrace... it will all still be here when he opens his eyes in the morning.]
[ They both drift off to sleep, Day quietly content to have someone he loves so close to him like he's an anchor, even when he knows he hasn't been able to be that for a long time now.
When he wakes up in the morning, there's the immediate headache of a hangover—something he's well-acquainted with. Then he noticed the weight on his chest and the feeling of tangled limbs, and he slowly blinks to see Phil fast asleep while cuddling him.
...Oh, last night really wasn't just his imagination. He did and said all those things with Phil. And Phil said he loved him. Him, truly, not as a replacement for unfulfilled love.
For a long moment, Day simply stays still, laying in bed. A part of him wonder that if he were to move and get up, or if Phil wakes up, the bubble will burst and it'll turn out it was just the alcohol.
The part of him so used to dashed expectations supplies him with tested tools to weather disappointment: apologize and offer to pretend the night never happened if it turns out Phil is mortified by last night. Distance himself if he has to so he can slip from Phil's mind, if that would make him more comfortable, and hopefully things won't be so awkward between the two of them that they can't keep co-existing in the same space. Lock this love this away and put it somewhere it can't be found, and maybe he'll learn a valuable lesson in love again.
But he wants so badly to believe in Phil's "I love you", that the alcohol simply meant he was unfiltered but not mistaken, that there really is a place for him in Phil's heart. So he doesn't give in to that reflex to keep his expectations low, finally leaning down to give Phil a gentle forehead kiss before he carefully extricates himself from the cuddle. He figures Phil will be incredibly hungover whenever he wakes up, so he should go down to the kitchen and get breakfast while he can. Maybe by some stroke of luck he can do this discreetly, too.
By the time Phil wakes up, there's a lingering warmth where Day was. On the bed are two sets of clothes, both Day's and Phil's, folded up in some attempt at neatness. He's nowhere to be seen, but surely he wouldn't just leave without taking his clothes, right? ]
no subject
Thought you'd never ask.
[ Though Day had always intended to stay the night unless Phil told him not to. ]
no subject
[He pushes lightly on Day's chest, but with no ulterior motives this time-- he just wants to lie down so that they can curl up together. Now that the heat of the moment has faded, he's starting to feel more than a little cold.]
no subject
G'night, Phil.
[ ...It's been so long since he last shared a bed with someone else, in multiple senses. Getting to do it with someone he adores is like a dream come true. ]
no subject
[Phil curls closer; then, after a moment of hesitation, he shifts so that he can rest his head on Day's chest and listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. As long as he can hear that, he can be reassured that all of this is real and not just another dream.
This warmth, this love, this gentle embrace... it will all still be here when he opens his eyes in the morning.]
no subject
When he wakes up in the morning, there's the immediate headache of a hangover—something he's well-acquainted with. Then he noticed the weight on his chest and the feeling of tangled limbs, and he slowly blinks to see Phil fast asleep while cuddling him.
...Oh, last night really wasn't just his imagination. He did and said all those things with Phil. And Phil said he loved him. Him, truly, not as a replacement for unfulfilled love.
For a long moment, Day simply stays still, laying in bed. A part of him wonder that if he were to move and get up, or if Phil wakes up, the bubble will burst and it'll turn out it was just the alcohol.
The part of him so used to dashed expectations supplies him with tested tools to weather disappointment: apologize and offer to pretend the night never happened if it turns out Phil is mortified by last night. Distance himself if he has to so he can slip from Phil's mind, if that would make him more comfortable, and hopefully things won't be so awkward between the two of them that they can't keep co-existing in the same space. Lock this love this away and put it somewhere it can't be found, and maybe he'll learn a valuable lesson in love again.
But he wants so badly to believe in Phil's "I love you", that the alcohol simply meant he was unfiltered but not mistaken, that there really is a place for him in Phil's heart. So he doesn't give in to that reflex to keep his expectations low, finally leaning down to give Phil a gentle forehead kiss before he carefully extricates himself from the cuddle. He figures Phil will be incredibly hungover whenever he wakes up, so he should go down to the kitchen and get breakfast while he can. Maybe by some stroke of luck he can do this discreetly, too.
By the time Phil wakes up, there's a lingering warmth where Day was. On the bed are two sets of clothes, both Day's and Phil's, folded up in some attempt at neatness. He's nowhere to be seen, but surely he wouldn't just leave without taking his clothes, right? ]