details of an asteroid - part 1
for the phandom big bang 2015
Title: details of an asteroid
Artist: philslesters (see the beautiful art here and here!)
Overall word count: 88,888 (hell yeah)
Warnings: mild alcohol use, brief homo/biphobia, brief internalized biphobia, implied depression, some existential talk
Summary: “If you think about it, aliens probably believe in us, too. We’ve got our own intergalactic cheerleaders.”
When Dan and Phil keep bumping into each other, they eventually give in to chance and start talking. Soon enough, Dan makes a home at the library Phil works at, and they talk about nothing and everything so often that there is no going back. The two survive the future just fine, until they learn the flaws of leaning the weight of your existence on someone else’s shoulders.
Disclaimers: none of the opinions voiced in this fic are necessarily the opinions of any of the people involved in this fic. some of the events may seem to be unrealistic; this is because some are exaggerated or made into real things to symbolise something people do in their heads, or to convey a message. this is all fiction.
Author’s Notes: this has been in the works for a year!!! what the hell??? it’s my baby. i’m so so excited (and nervous) for this to be done and for u all to read it!! i really hope u enjoy (lemme know if u do!) reblogs are really appreciated and are my saviours.
a huge huge thank u to my beta, aqua, who did such a great job and probably did more than what she signed up for!!! i am so grateful and u helped me make this the best i could. and thanks to alex, who has made some beautiful art, i am in total awe!!!! (and for loving this fic and being so supportive, i really appreciate it!) thank u to the pbb team who organised this fab event, and thank u to all of u, my lovely readers!! without u guys’ support i would never have done this, so thank u so much!!!
there is so much i want to say, but can’t, so here u go. the first chapter…..
It has a bed.
That’s a good start, Dan reckons; the room has a bed, as well as a small selection of other furniture that he is slowly taking in. All of them are rickety and worn, a broken could-be family, but they provide a place to sleep and a place to work, at the least, so he’s grateful. They’re well loved, he firmly decides. There’s a pall of dust over the desk and set of drawers, and the walls are four blank edges of plain wallpaper that are all flushed with sunlight, but give it a few posters and a few nights sleep, and he can see himself settled in. He’s always had a certain weakness for beams that streak through the ceiling.
A breeze slips under the door and skips at his feet, skittering across the floorboards and leaving cold kisses on his ankles. The hum of traffic tangles in the curtains but gets no farther.
“You reckon you’re gonna be ok?” his mother asks as she manoeuvres another box through the door. It lands on the mattress with a muffled thud, sending another one knocking into the wall. Outside the window, someone is calling another person’s name.
His parents aren’t leaving for a while - they’re helping him unpack, thank God - but Dan knows why his mother is asking as if she’s leaving already. In some ways, she already has.
Dan casts his gaze around the room, pretending she’s only talking about the room.