Dan POV

I have to glance at Phil every few seconds to stop me panicking. Not only did I 'bunk off' again, go into what Mum calls 'the troubled area' and punch two different people, I'm at Phil's house!

Phil and Dylan share a strange look between them as their brothers come bounding down the stairs.

Jack and Mark both immediately swear in unison, "Was this because of Mathew?"

"I'm calling Henry." Jack then declares firmly without waiting for an answer, apparently going off his brotherly intuition.

Mark glances at me and Phil, "Why aren't you guys – oh. Oh yeah. Shit, okay, both of you go sit in the game room."

Phil shakes his head after a beat of thought, "We're going upstairs. I might make a video or something and Dan can help me with it."

"Philly..." Dylan starts, then stops himself as he sees something in Phil's expression.

I try and look at anything except any one of them, staring at the sofa or the boards on the floor, humming so I don't eavesdrop on what they're saying. I feel Phil's hand grab my wrist and jump, almost shouting but relaxing as his touch is soft, gentle, caring. Mark's gaze is scrutinising as we head up the stairs, Phil pulling me along to his room.

I smile.

I've seen his room in videos but never in 3D with the whole thing as one. His room has a general aqua theme of blue and green as if we're out at sea but there's colourful soft toys, pens, notebooks, cushions, school folders and books lying around in a messily organised way.

Except for his cupboard.

The poor piece of beech furniture is surrounded by a heap of clothes piled on boxes he's clearly not that bothered about.

He also has posters of various bands and anime put up all over his walls, except for the one that has a desk in front of it. That wall only has mounted shelves fixed to the wall above the desk, filled with photos and various objects that obviously mean something to him.

"Dan?" Phil asks, snapping me out of my trance.

It dawns on me that I'm still standing the doorway as I stare at his room. I feel a blood rush creeping up my cheeks and grin.

"It's so you," is the only thing I can think to tell him.

"I would hope so. I don't really know how to be anyone else." he says light-heartedly, but the exact opposite at the same time.

I blink.

Damn, that was almost as deep as his eyes.

Thanks!

Oh shit.

Daniel!

I grin sheepishly and decide to get rid of the tension with a hug. I don't know why; it just feels right. One moment later, my arms are around Phil and he's softly gasping before hugging me back with a smile on his face.

"What's up?" he questions.

"You." I smile back, "Are you okay?"

What do you mean?

"At the... garden thing... you... " I stop, the ability to explain things failing me.

Phil sighs and flops down onto his bed, his smile fading a little as he hugs his knees. I frown and take a deep breath before sitting down beside him and making sure I'm not in his personal space as I start humming.

I don't know what I hum but I carry on, my lungs complaining as I go through every song in my head. Eventually, I have to restart, going back to the first song I hummed.

It scares me out of my skin when Phil's gentle, bubbly baritone starts singing.

When I stop to try and avoid freaking out, he pauses almost shyly.

But he doesn't stop.

He starts over, singing quietly.

My eyes widen.

I've never heard anything as magnificent and melodic as his acapella voice. He manages to stay smooth and in tune but there's a bubbly zest in his tone, something bright and inspiring. I notice the way his Adam's apple shifts as he sings, his tongue peeking out intermittently.

Once I recover from my awe, I start humming the background music again, making sure we're both in time. I don't notice as I tap against my knees for a beat but as Phil joins in with me, I realise.

Never even once glancing at the clock, we make our way through all the songs we can think of, not having to argue about them but somehow knowing exactly what to do. It probably helps that we can thought talk without thinking about it, an incredible yet slightly paradoxical ability.

We seem to obliterate any ideas of personal space as we carry on, our shoulders nudging against each other now and again. We're sat with our legs stretched out so it doesn't hurt our lungs to breathe, meaning that our legs are continuously in contact. Our feet tap against each other to keep us in rhythm, his bright mushroom and pineapple socks contrasting my pure black ones.

Once we stop, he grins happily, "Why did you have your musical ability hidden away inside a cave?"

What?

Phil just laughs, "Have you heard yourself?"

I glance sideways at him and catch his gaze, instantly knowing he genuinely means it. I let my head fall onto the bed we've been leaning against and smile at Phil, "Maybe I was just in hibernation?"

He chuckles, "What, like a bear?"

"No, like your mum." I fire back.

He shakes his head and elbows me, a grin on his face, "Shut up bear."

"I'm not a bear!" I argue, folding my arms.

Phil grins and winks at me, "You are too, and you need to come out of your hibernation."

I don't really understand what he means but he suddenly perks up and grins widely, a curious spark lighting up in his kaleidoscopic eyes, "Let's make a video!"

"What?" I ask, not sure if this idea will work.

I don't think I'm exactly suited to YouTube, even If I have been wanting to start my own channel ever since I watched Phil's first few videos. Phil just gives me a pointed look and pulls me up, his warm hands wrapping around mine as I grudgingly let myself be dragged upright.

"Help me grab the camera tripod? I think it's in Dylan's room." he asks and manages to sound so hopeful I don't even think about saying no.

As we co-ordinate ourselves to lift the black structure into Phil's bedroom, he trips over something I can't see so we both end up falling forwards, our heads colliding and both of us exclaiming – only one of us swearing, no prize for guessing that it isn't the human embodiment of literal sunshine who tripped in the first place.

"Sorry." He grins, adjusting the tripod so we can pull it inside his room.

We set it up just opposite his bed where we were sat singing, and Phil opens up his laptop on one side.

"Should we just answer some questions?" he suggests.

"Sure." I reply, still unable to believe I'm going to do a video with him.

I can finally understand what people call 'having butterflies'. Except mine are not pretty little creatures who fly around and bring joy to children, excitement to dogs and chaos to the parents who own either of the previous two. They're more like dark, gloomy and malevolent moths out to slowly spray acid all over my stomach walls and slowly fester until I crumble into a void of nothing and fall into an abyss devoid of life.

Dan, are you still there?

I jump.

"Sorry, what?" I mumble.

"You've got that wondering expression on your face, are you okay?"

"Sure." I reply.

The moths are out to get me.

I hate moths.

Oh good, you're not one of those weird people who love them.

Nope! But I am one of those weird people who need to make a video right now.

"Oh right, yeah." I cough, grinning.

Phil starts checking the camera and whatever else he has to do as I spot his lion, the soft toy that makes an extended cameo in all of his videos.

Phil chuckles as he catching me staring at it, "Dare you to lick him."

I freeze for a minute, "What?"

He grins mischievously, "I dare you to-"

He has to stop halfway through the repeat of his request because I've already done it.

I grin back and wink at him as he grins, "And that's the start of our video."

"What? No!" I protest but shake my head fondly when he refuses to have it any other way, "Fine."

He brightens up immediately and we start reading through some potential questions to answer. He laughs for a solid three minutes when the first one is about the cat whiskers.

"Come on, we've got to!" he announces and roots around his annoyingly cluttered – but typically Phil like – desk until he finds a sharpie.

I grin and a small euphoric hot air balloon of delight rise inside me when he hands it to me with a bright smile lighting up his face, and the whole room. It takes me four goes to get his right because I've never had to draw them before. He impressively manages to draw them on first time for me – obviously, he is amazing at everything.

"Wait, do I need to tell them who I am?" I ask, turning to face him.

"I'll tell them at the end but I'm sure they can tell anyway. Who says instructions need to come first?"

Fair point.

We carry on with random animal noise questions, Phil making the same sound for pretty much every single one. I ask Phil whether he'd lose his leg or his nose and he laughs.

"I'd lose my leg! Imagine my face without a nose?"

"Voldemort has no nose -" I start to say but he's thinking the same thing.

"I'd look like Voldemort!" he states, and we both grin.

"I already look like Voldemort." He says as I finish my initial sentence. Apparently verbal momentum is a thing I suffer from because I continue...

"- I would bang Voldemort." I admit with a grin, then realise what that would imply and turn red, whacking my forehead.

The corner of Phil's mouth quirks upwards as he turns light pink, the blush more evident on his pallor skin.

"Uh...not that – I didn't mean..." I mumble, giving up and sighing.

Phil's expression is unreadable but he laughs and shrugs, "Let's just carry on?"

"Sure." I agree, coughing to try and clear away my embarrassment, "May I stroke your glabella?" I ask.

He pulls a face, "What's a glabella?"

"Let's find out?" I gesture to his laptop as he moves to grab something on the other side of me and he collide, our foreheads making resounding thuds as they meet.

I yelp and Phil rubs his head, "Ouch."

"You okay?" I ask, massaging my own forehead.

"Yeah, you?" he asks, his voice practically oozing concern.

"I'm good." I assure him and take the laptop as he passes it to me.

I read it out to him and his eyebrows furrow as he strokes his glabella, "Why did they need to name that?"

"Who knows?" I shrug and he suggests showing the internet the diagram, only for us to realise that the screen is too bright and looks like we've suddenly burned a rectangle of magnesium in attempt to blind them.

I elbow him with a smile, but behind the whiteness of what should be a diagram so it isn't visible, "That's so interesting Phil. I bet they're all so glad they can see the diagram."

"Oh shut up." Phil chuckles, elbowing me back.

I laugh and tilt slightly too much, Phil grabbing my shoulders to pull me back up while he takes the laptop off me, "Moving on..."

We make our way through more animal questions that seem to come up too often and requests to say stuff in French, which we both fail at, before Dylan knocks on the door. Phil jumps in shock and drops his mac, which I catch before it smashes. Dylan smiles at me gratefully as Phil recovers.

"What is it?"

"You guys want food?" Dylan asks, offering us a bowl of popcorn.

Phil's expression flickers between regret and excitement, a combination I hadn't thought was possible but Phil is constantly proving that anything is possible, as cheesy as it may sound.

It's true.

Dylan just waits in silence as if this happens a lot and I realise there's so much I don't even know a little bit about regarding Phil.

Who am I to him anyway?

Dan, you're my other half. Don't think like that.

"Yeah, we can do with a bowl of popcorn, why not?" He says out loud, taking said food from Dylan.

Dylan nods and ruffles his hair, "Are you ... what did Matthew say?"

"When?" Phil asks, sitting back down beside me.

Other half.

I'm his other half.

The words resonate inside my cranium until my smile glows almost as brightly as Phil's charming aura.

I don't know if he notices my awkward vibe or simply feels like doing it but he laces his fingers between mine and gently squeezes, an action that instantly reassures me that I'm okay to be here. I can feel the blood rush to my face, almost as if every single red blood cell decided to gather on my cheeks without warning.

Dylan smirks knowingly at us, "I get the point: you guys want to carry on with your filming."

Phil sticks his tongue out at his older brother and Dylan sighs, "What are you filming anyway?"

"I don't exactly know yet," Phil says optimistically, "but we can figure the name and stuff out later."

"A'ight, don't ruin my stuff." Dylan gives us a small salute before winking at me and going back down the stairs to join the twins.

Phil smiles and switches the camera back on, "Ready for some more random questions?"

I smile, "Anytime."

He sends me a quick grin and we start reading them out, having to tell each other we'll cut out certain parts because we're laughing too hard or because they're too peculiar to add in. We also have to take breaks as we decide to eat the popcorn every now and then, the whole bowl quickly disappearing before we know it. Eventually, we decide we have to stop and both of us calm down, shutting the other laptop.

"Well, this was the most fun I've ever had." I say quietly, not sure if we need to put that in but wanting to tell Phil.

I'm completely unprepared for Phil suddenly turning round to face me and attacking me with a hug akin to the force of a lion, a small noise of shock escaping me and both of us falling backwards onto the floor. The smile on his face doesn't fade in the slightest as I go red again, laughing.

He pokes me, "This is only the beginning."

This time it's my grin that's a force to be reckoned with, and I hug him back, temporarily not caring if we're both still lying on the carpet. He seems equally as shocked as he wraps his arms around my shoulders.

You give quite the BEAR hug.

Jesus Christ, Phil...

Unfortunately, I have to admit that the pun was pretty clever so I just smile and we stay in the same position for an unknown amount of time.

Phil stretches as we pull ourselves back up, his nose scrunching up as he chucks a stray pencil over his shoulder. I chuckle and we quickly end the video, making the cheesiest hearts with our hands and signing off with a goodbye and a zoom into the camera.

Phil tells me he might add a quick introduction for me while he's editing it later so we don't bother to do anything regarding revealing who I am, simply lying back down and chilling for what feels like the longest time.

"What did you mean?" he asks me with a curious expression on his face.

"When?" I ask back.

"You asked if I was okay...?"

"At my mum's garden. You left so suddenly."

"Dan, you know where I live. Like I'd be accepted at your mum's party."

The scariest thing is that I know he genuinely believes this.

I shake my head so fast my fringe slaps me.

Phil laughs a little and gently blows on my eye, "Why did you do that?"

"Phil, nobody will judge you on where you come from!" I mumble as I try to control the blush sneaking across my face.

"Dan..." Phil gives me an expectant look as if to remind me about the dollopheads in our school who insult others about where they live on a daily basis.

"I think you're amazing." I argue, then mentally whack my head on a knife.

Phil's divine beam is worth any kind of initial embarrassment I felt.

His arms engulf me in gratitude once again, "You're the best, Dan."

Now the blood has to reason to not colour my cheeks in rosy red.

Phil is impossible...

Naturally, I don't own pinof. If I did, there'd be A LOT more of them ;)