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The first time it happened, it could be chalked up to naivety. When looking at tour buses, they had seen the master bedroom and excitedly talked about setting up a second gaming lounge, taking the bunks with rest of the crew and using that space as a nice place to recharge between shows. It hadn’t been until they were getting a tour of their bus that the first sign of trouble arose. Phil had gone weirdly silent, only politely nodding halfway through their quick walkthrough, though Dan was far too overwhelmed to think much of it. Later though, when the crew was out fetching groceries and Starbucks, Phil had flipped down on the couch next to Dan with a worried expression.
“I think we may die on this bus, Dan.”
Dan rolled his eyes, not looking up from his phone.
“ I already agreed to shower at the venue, Phil. Whatever “murder microbes” you think are in the water won’t crawl out of the tap.”
“No, the bunks! They’re tiny!” Without a word, Dan tossed his phone down and went to examine the situation. An ashen look fell over his face, and Phil joined him in the hall. Dan’s voice was barely a whisper when he turned to Phil.
“We’re so long. What are we going to do?”
Phil nodded and surveyed the bus.
“We could take turns: big bed and couch?” Dan made a face.
“No privacy, early mornings? Mate.”
Phil kicked into problem solving mode.
“Right, so. We’ll just share the big bed. It’s settled.” Dan scoffed and looked at him incredulously.
“Settled is it? Are you serious?”
“Yes! We have to sleep, Dan. We can’t be exhausted and sore all the time. Besides, who will know? The crew won’t say anything.”
Dan deadpanned to Phil, opening the door to the master. “Who will know? How about the fucking YouTube Red documentarian who will show everyone and their grandma!”
Shit. Phil had forgotten about that entirely. He could see panic starting to rise in dans face.
“We just…lie! Make up some bit that played we rock paper scissors for it.” Dan looked unsure.
“You really think they’ll buy that?”
There really wasn’t an option. Though he was uneasy, Phils desire for this tour to be a positive experience outpaced his nerves. He walked over and picked up a small embroidered sign that read Dan and Phil. He hung it on the master bedroom door and smiled. “It’s going to be great.”
The second time it happened, it wasn’t as easy. As the two YouTubers sat on call with their tour manager prattling off details, they were suddenly affronted with the question. “And the same bus will be alright, yes? We have it booked out.” They exchanged glances before Phil spoke up. “Yeah that will be fine. Thanks.”
“Just make sure there are no handicrafts on board.” Dan muttered, earning a jab from Phil. “I just don’t want a repeat of last time’s fiasco.”
Months later, when they were on the bus, it was Phil throwing a tantrum. The whole incident had started off annoying as it was, with the bus breaking down and putting the schedule behind. However, when the driver was showing the mechanic the issue and mentioned an access panel “in the boys’ room”, both Dan and Phil’s mood had soured. Now, hours later and riding down the highway once more, Phil was complaining as he readied himself for bed.
“I think they all need to sign NDAs. Maybe then they won’t be so flippant with our privacy.” He mused bitterly as he took his contacts out. He turned to face Dan, but stilled when their eyes met. He looked…tired. Not just from a day standing by the side of the road, not just from performing. It was much more, something he’d shared with Phil months ago.
“Phil, please.” He wearily begged. His voice was slightly hoarse and he seemed deflated. Phil’s stomach tightened.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want any drama, since it’s the last tour-“ his voice caught on a bubble of emotion, so he changed course slightly. “The last bit of the tour. I just want it to be great.” His voice trailed off.
Dan seemed sympathetic, but stayed silent. They both knew he needed the break, but that didn’t stop the sadness. Phil climbed in the bed and flipped off the light. He stared at the ceiling, letting the rumble of the engine lull him into another night of fitful sleep. Suddenly, he felt Dan’s arms pulling him into a hug.
“I’m sorry.” Dan whispered into his shoulder. Phil let himself melt into the hug, and choked back a small sob.
“It’s okay.” Then after a pause. “I think I’m just getting a little sick.”
Dan nodded, and squeezed a bit harder. “It’s almost over.”
Somehow, that didn’t make anything better.
The third time was different. Perhaps it was that they finally had gotten a break, perhaps it was because their audience was older and more respectful, or maybe they couldn’t be arsed anymore. Whatever the case, there didn’t seem to be any protests when they picked their tour bus. They didn’t feel the need to come up with cover stories about shared beds. It was just the way it was. After a show, Phil found himself collapsing back into the bed. “I fear I am dead. Passed away.” Dan let out a loud laughed and leaned over to pinch him.
“Good news. Not dead, just old, bub.” He said with a smirk as Phil yelped.
“Respect your elders, you bitch.” He pouted, rubbing his arm, but he already felt a smile growing. “I’m having a good time, you know.”
Dan looked at him fondly.
“I am too. I feel more free, less tired. More gay.“ he laughed. Maybe that’s what made them less fearful of a scandal now. It just didn’t seem to be a big deal. “But yeah. ‘S great.” He was yawning now, the post-show high dissipating rapidly. He pulled off his trousers and crawled into the bed as Phil slipped under the blanket.
Phil smiled at him before flipping off the light. “It is great.”