[A/N: Trigger Warning- physical abuse and mentions of rape. Constructive criticism is welcome and taken note of.]

Summary: Before Phil met Dan, he didn't know miracles could happen. He didn't need to think about them. He was occupied with school and family that he had no room for silly thoughts. Then, he was kidnapped. Then, his life had fallen to pieces. Dan was the only piece still intact, but for how long?

The room was cramped. So cramped. The walls were made of wood and not even the polished kind. Then again, what do you expect from a kidnapper's prison.

Phil Lester heard from the news that a huge number of missing people were being reported all over London, all of which were teenage boys. He did not think much of it. His parents told him to be careful.

But of course, he brushed it off as nothing. Which led to his kidnapping.

Amazing.

He did not know for how long he was unconscious. He woke up on a thin blanket that did not do much for the cold, hard stone floor. He looked around and squinted at the dim, yellow lighting.

Uncomfortable. No windows. No furniture. One door. Dusty. His head was throbbing.

All equal to a kidnap.

Phil fucked up and he knew that. He curled up into a ball as tears formed in his eyes.

When was the last time he told his parents that he loved them? His brother? His friends?

They were all gone.

He was basically dead.

It's like all the colour drained from his life. There was no meaning in living anymore.

Just then, the door banged against the wall as it was thrown open. A man with a stubble and messy brown hair stood in the doorway. The man threw his head back and sighed with relief.

"Thank fuck, you're awake!" the man exclaimed in a thick Northern accent. He strutted over and Phil pressed his back to the wall. The man, without warning, slapped him hard on the cheek. Phil blinked back the tears from the pain that it inflicted.

"Quit your crying. Peej will kill you if he sees you like this. Now, stand up and follow me. We're gonna go meet the master." The man stood up and walked out of the room. Phil scrambled up to his feet and followed the man as instructed, wiping his tears even though they were replaced by new ones almost immediately.

The outside was no different from his room. Same dusty air, same disgusting smell, same stone floor and same wooden walls.

The only difference was there were multiple doors that Phil presumed led to more cells of captives.

"The name's Chris, by the way," the man said as if he weren't leading Phil to his kidnapper. Phil's tears had stopped flowing and he couldn't help but stare at the back of the man's head incredulously.

"Um, I'm Phil?" Phil replied, unsure if he should have done that. Chris chuckled and nodded back at Phil.

Once they reached the end of the corridor where a door was, Chris opened it and a bright light blinded Phil for a moment. The room was majestic compared to his prison and the corridor. It had a carpet (although it was a dusty one), an actual bed, a closet, pretty good lighting and a less dusty atmosphere. It still had wooden walls and a stone floor though.

There were two other men in the room. One with a rather smug smile on his face and a cigarette in one hand. Phil guessed that that was the mastermind, the kidnapper. The other one was backed up to a wall as far away from the man with the cigarette, busying himself with taming his brown hair by patting it down.

He wasn't a man. More innocent than that. He wasn't a boy either for he had an air of wisdom around him. Phil could tell that he was scared but his intimidating posture covered that up effectively. Somehow, Phil could see through his you-can't-bring-me-down façade.

He looked up from his feet and met Phil's eyes. Phil noted how brown and beautiful they were. His mouth opened slowly as if in a trance. Phil broke the gaze and looked at the kidnapper instead.

If they weren't in such a pickle, Phil would've asked for that guy's name and chat him up. But now's not the time.

The other man also had brown hair but it was untamed and curly and sticking up in all directions. He had grey, almost silver eyes that reflected the white light of the room. He was pretty too, but that smug expression threw him out of Phil's list.

Chris entered the room after sharing a nod with the Cigarette Man and Phil followed behind Chris.

"That's all?" Cigarette Man asked Chris and eyed Phil from head to toe and back up again. Chris stepped aside and nodded. "Yes, PJ. I only got two today."

PJ winked at Phil which took him by surprise. Phil's blue eyes widened and he was instantly creeped out. PJ smirked and turned his attention to Chris who blushed under his gaze. "Well, I suppose I did say 'at least two' so... you deserve a reward later," PJ said, causing Chris to blush further.

PJ turned to the man in the far away corner and summoned for him to stay beside Phil. He gulped but did not hesitate one bit. He gave Phil a small smile which Phil returned.

Oh, why did they have to meet at the wrong time?

PJ dropped his cigarette on the floor and stepped on it with his boot. "What is the last thing you remember?" he asked.

What was it? Phil remembered it being a Thursday last. He remembered eating dinner. He remembered waking up... but that was it. He couldn't remember anything of the Friday morning except for waking up.

He was interrupted by a voice. It came from to his right and he saw the boy speaking up. "I only remember coming home from school and going to bed. I also remember eating dinner, too."

Phil nodded. "Pretty much the same."

PJ looked up and registered this information. "Hm, okay. Chris, put them back." With that, Chris pushed them out of the room and into the long corridor.

Phil was both confused and relieved.

During the trip back to their cells, Phil couldn't stop glancing at the man. He was just so attractive and it felt like he couldn't live without that pretty face. He needed to savour this moment before it was ripped from him. Like every single thing in his life.

They stopped in front of an open door and Phil was shoved into the room once more. As soon as he stepped inside, everything turned grey again.

The sound of the lock turning was drowned out by the sound of his heart breaking.

Why was life so unfair?

He lay down on the dusty floor and pulled the blanket over his body like a cocoon.

Everything was meaningless.

"Psst."

Everything was for nothing.

"Psst."

Why was he allowed to feel when all he felt made him--

"Hey!" Phil faintly heard someone call him. He decided that it was nothing.

But that was thrown out of the window when a chunk of wood hit him square on the nose.

Phil shuffled out of the surprisingly comfy blanket and turned his head in the direction of the source of the flying piece of wood. A pair of pretty brown eyes peeking from a hole in the apparently thin wall caught his attention.

"What?" he questioned and crawled over to it. It was relatively low so the man must also be sprawled across his prison floor with his body flat on the ground like Phil was.

"This is insane," the man commented. His eyes were so expressive.

Of course, Phil knew those eyes. How could he not? He was the man he met just a while ago. Phil wondered what his name was.

"Hi. I'm Phil," he introduced himself. The man looked down shyly and flickered his eyes back to Phil's after a moment. The action was just as beautiful as his eyes.

"I'm Dan." They stared at each other silently. Phil blinked a few times and slid backwards. Dan tilted his head in confusion.

"Let's destroy more of this wall," Phil suggested. Dan nodded and began punching it, like he did before.

The wood was extremely old and thin so it was easy to break. They managed to make the hole two times bigger before they heard footsteps outside. They immediately froze and pressed their backs against the hole to hide it. They both waited with held breaths until the footfalls died with the increasing distance.

Dan and Phil sighed and lay down on the floor, facing the other through the hole. "I guess this should do," Dan said though unsatisfied.

"I can see your face now. It's very pretty," Phil told him and smiled. Dan looked down again, pink tinting his cheeks.

"How old are you?"

They threw each other questions until they fell asleep. Days passed and they kept this their little secret. Chris checked on them twice a day (at least, Phil thought it was. He really wasn't sure about the time) to bring them food. Even he did not know and was sure that they were off their trolleys whenever he walked in on them sniggering.

"PJ creeps me out," Phil brought up one time. Dan looked up from his dinner of rice and gravy. "I hate him," he said casually. Phil shrugged and shoved a spoonful in his mouth.

"What do you think will happen to us?" Phil asked, his heart wrenching in his chest. Dan paused for a second before lifting his spoon to his mouth. Phil waited until Dan had swallowed and answered his question.

"He'll obviously rape us. Then kill us either mentally or physically," Dan said, worriedly unfazed by what he had just said. Phil could not find the strength or the appetite to continue eating and carried his plate near the door where Chris will pick it up later. He walked over to Dan again and sat near the hole, not peeking through it. This made Dan mentally curse himself for being so insensitive and he set his plate near his door before laying back down in front of the hole, not caring that Phil wasn't there.

"Phil?" Dan called. Phil just hummed in response. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I can tell, Phil. You know what? Let's not think about PJ or Chris or anyone. Let's live in the present and only in the present. Now is what matters. You matter to me."

Phil processed this and he felt tears prickling at his eyes. Something about the sincerity, the words, the person saying it just got to Phil.

Before he met Dan, he didn't know miracles could happen. He didn't need to think about them. He was occupied with school and family that he had no room for silly thoughts. Then, he was kidnapped. Then, his life had fallen to pieces.

He stopped thinking about school and family and he let silly thoughts in his mind. He realized that everything he had worked for, everything he had built his life around was gone. Just like that.

And then he saw Dan. He met Dan. He talked to him and defied the rules with him. He had never felt so alive despite being on his deathbed. The inevitability of death had never been so clear and yet he wouldn't have had it any other way.

To him, it was so imperfect that it had to be perfect.

Dan mattered to him so much.

"You matter to me, too."

A hand reached out to him from the hole in the wall. It was opened and inviting. Phil smiled at it and intertwined his fingers between Dan's. They fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces.

Another few days passed and Dan and Phil had grown ever so closer. They learnt each others little quirks like how Phil stuck out his tongue a bit when he smiled or laughed. And how Dan can't keep his hands away from his hair.

Their friendship, though hidden, was the most beautiful thing in the world. It shone brighter than the stars yet was as dim as the murky depths of the oceans.

It was at its peak.

But will it last?

Dan had his back to the wall and so did Phil. The blue-eyed man poked his hand through the hole and Dan clasped it like a lifeline.

"Baby, can't you see? I'm calling," Dan started singing quietly. Phil's eyes widened and he began laughing.

"A guy like you should wear a warning," Phil continued, amused. Dan giggled. "It's dangerous."

"I'm falling!" they both sang overdramatically and fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"There's no escape. I can't wait," Phil sang with a wide grin.

"I need a hit. Baby, give me it!"

"You're dangerous," Phil awaited a reply...

... but it never came.

"Dan?" Phil called, smile fading. The grip on his hand loosened worriedly but Phil held on.

Phil banged on the wooden wall, vision blurring. "Dan? Dan, are you okay?" He hit it harder, fists turning red from the rough texture of the wall.

"Please, Dan! Give me a sign that you're okay! Don't-- don't leave. Not now. Not ever!" Phil begged, squeezing Dan's hand.

But it didn't return the gesture.

"I-I love you."

Still no reply.

"Do you love me?"

No reply. Phil hesitantly let go of Dan's hand and placed it on the wall as if he were going to punch it but it lost strength halfway.

Red. Why was his hand red?

The red liquid dripped down from his hand, onto the wall and down to the floor. His nose breathed in the scent of metal.

Blood.

Was-- was Dan killed?

Was it PJ?

A bloody hand reached out from the other side of the hole and Phil grasped it automatically. But as soon as he felt the calloused palm against his soft ones, he knew this wasn't right.

It wasn't Dan's hand.

Phil tried to pull back but the owner kept the grip firm. "Let go!" Phil shouted but he wouldn't listen.

"You put a hole in my wall. This can't go unpunished," PJ's voice travelled to Phil's ears. It was silky and Phil did not like it. He wanted Dan.

"Okay. Kill me."

PJ laughed smoothly and pulled Phil closer. "Since you're so willing to give up your life, I don't think so. I'll tell Chris to fetch you later this evening. See you soon."

Then, he let go. Phil heard footsteps and a door being slammed shut. More footsteps echoed across the corridor.

As soon as the door was closed, Phil reached out to Dan, desperate to hold him.

"Dan? Dan?" Phil held his hand open, waiting for Dan to take it in his own. How long was he waiting? Minutes? Hours? He didn't know but he didn't care for Dan eventually held on.

His grasp was weak but Phil entwined his fingers around Dan's. His hand was just as bloody as PJ's but Phil did not care. It was Dan.

"Hold on, Dan. Please."

Dan lowered his hand in admission of defeat. He couldn't speak. He was dying.

Phil let his tears fall. They were for Dan and he wasn't ashamed to cry them.

"I love you."

Dan squeezed Phil's hand for a millisecond and the action sent happy chills up Phil's arm.

"I don't regret this. I don't regret meeting you, talking to you, lying with you, getting into trouble. My only regret is that I didn't say 'I love you' sooner."

Phil heard a sigh. "You don't need to say anything. Just lie down. And hold me."

And that's how Chris found him later that night. With an arm stretched out into a hole in his wall and tears streaming down his cheeks.

The End.