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There’s a quiet moment on the bus in between greeting the stragglers who stayed behind by the stage door and the driver taking off. Phil turns from waving out into the darkness beyond the windows, smiles at the others who are collapsed into the seats near the driver in the front, and moves slowly through the bunk section to the lounge at the back. Dan follows him with a halfhearted gesture of apology to the others, none of whom seem to be paying attention to them anyway.
Phil’s lungs make an involuntary oof sound as he lets himself sit down on the sofa, so Dan joins him with a theatrical groan.
Phil’s palm on the back of Dan’s hand is soft and dry, slightly cool like almost always. He slides the pads of his fingers along the clefts between Dan’s, does a little tap to make Dan spread and give way. It’s a silly type of hand hold, a little awkward and not very serious and meant to be broken as quickly as it started. Not because they can’t or won’t touch in the confines of the bus where the crew might see it, but simply because Phil isn’t feeling particularly cuddly. Dan’s eye is drawn to the bare stretch of Phil’s ring finger.
His mind is going a hundred miles per minute, flashing all around — to the events of the day, and the events leading up to this day. Nothing extraordinary has happened, the motions of the tour a familiar dance by now, much like the rest of their life together. And yet things are changing, Dan thinks, slowly and intangibly and then quickly and decisively.
**
“This is a new one,” Sarah says the minute they walk through the door after finishing the meet and greet.
The fact that she’s hardly letting them in the room before talking to them about the contents of the Q&A cards is remarkable in and of itself, but her entire demeanor seems tense in an excited kind of way. Dan plucks the white card from her fingers and takes a look, feeling Phil read along over his shoulder. His stomach swoops weirdly. Behind him Phil guffaws a sound of surprise.
“Is it real?” Dan asks, looking at Sarah again.
She shrugs. “It seems real. I don’t know why it wouldn’t be.”
“I’ve never seen a real proposal before.” Phil snatches the card from him and flops onto the couch, studying it with excitement. “Well not up close, there was that skybar, remember?” His eyes flick up to Dan. “But we didn’t see until people started applauding.”
Dan uncaps a bottled water and hands it to him automatically before getting one for himself. He sits down more gingerly. “Let’s think about this. Any reason it’s a bad idea?”
Sarah shrugs again, shaking her head. Rick is off somewhere so he doesn’t have an opinion yet.
“Of course not,” Phil says. “It’ll be fun.”
Dan puts his hand out, silently asking for the card back. Phil places it into the palm of his hand with an amused look, but Dan avoids looking back at him. He doesn’t know what this curl of sensation in the pit of his stomach signifies, which is probably why his brain is choosing to interpret the card as some kind of threat. He looks at the handwriting, thinks about the person who wrote the card.
“I guess we can’t not do it. Can’t assume they’ve got another show.” He looks at Sarah again. “Good catch.”
She smiles and takes the card to pop it back in the mailbox with the other vetted and sorted questions. Phil’s fingers tap a little dance of comfort across his back and Dan relaxes minutely.
He thinks about the person who brought their spouse to the meet and greet, the young couple who told them they met in the YouTube comment section under their videos. He thinks about someone waiting nervously right this minute, probably with a ring box hidden somewhere on their person. He thinks about Phil’s smile of delight in that skybar years ago, applauding along with everyone else, turning to seek out Dan’s gaze, making sure they were seeing the same thing.
*
“I really need to pee,” Phil whispers in a far too loud hiss as he bounces dramatically from foot to foot. Thankfully the middle-aged couple in front of them checking in don’t seem to hear, but the receptionist throws a glance their way.
“Can’t you hold it five more minutes until we get to the room?” Dan mutters through gritted teeth.
“Oh! There’s a restroom!” Phil says, like he didn’t hear Dan at all. “Would you—“ He’s already shrugging off the sparkly backpack and handing it to Dan.
“But you made the reservation!” Dan knows he’s whining, but he’s tired and he wants to be in their room already.
“Yeah, it’s all in the folder.” Phil makes a beeline for the toilet, flapping a hand behind him to indicate the contents of his bag.
The door has barely closed behind him when the receptionist hands the husband and wife in front their keys and they walk off. Dan smiles gamely and steps up.
“Checking in? Name, sir?” The receptionist is female, but not so young he feels he needs to be on guard. There’s a tiny rainbow pin on her lapel that catches his eye and makes it stick there.
“Daniel— Lester.” He stumbles, automatically giving his own name the same second he remembers that Phil is always the one to make the reservation.
The keyboard clicks and clacks, the receptionist’s eyes flicker over him once again. “I have a Mr Philip Lester…”
“Yeah,” Dan chuckles. He can’t help laughing ruefully at himself, thinking how their audience would react if they knew what just happened. “That’s… the other half.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder indicating the man behind the restroom door.
The receptionist nods and gives a friendly smile, tapping decisively on the keyboard and then turning a knowing look on him. “New still, huh?”
“Yes and no,” he replies, helplessly, feeling himself sinking into the quicksand of his tiny word flub.
“Hmm, a long engagement,” she guesses. “I remember when I got married,” she confides. “It took me forever to get used to saying “my husband”.”
He takes a second to marvel at the fact that he can stand here and have this conversation without any panic. He’s mildly amused at the misunderstanding but he also knows it’s absolutely inconsequential. It all just boils down to a warm feeling of mild embarrassment.
“It’s an adjustment.” He chuckles again. He simply can’t stop himself.
“What is?” Phil asks, smiling as he appears again next to him. He’s looking relieved and studying Dan’s new good humour with curiosity.
“Having a husband,” Dan explains with a teasing look.
Phil’s eyebrows jump up high in delight, and Dan knows he’s already looking forward to getting the full story when they’re alone. “Yes!” is all he says, with great enthusiasm, as he turns to smile at the receptionist.
She smiles back. “My niece is getting married next spring. She met her girlfriend on a dating app.”
They chitchat for a short while about online dating apps and optimal wedding venues, and Dan doesn’t even mind the delay in getting to their room. He’s vaguely wondering if the receptionist’s niece knows who they are, but not in a way that makes him nervous at all. It surprises him, how little he thinks it matters at this point.
The receptionist pauses, giving them a thoughtful look. “Hang on, fellas.” She taps away at her keyboard a bit more before turning back to them with a satisfied smile. “The bridal suite is actually available. Let me upgrade you real quick. No extra charge.” She winks.
They both exclaim in various expressions of gratitude, taking the key and stumbling quickly into the elevator with their bags and suitcases.
The doors have barely closed when Phil lets out a short explosion of a laugh. “What happened?”
“Got an upgrade.” Dan smirks.
“Upgraded to husband.” Phil giggles, leaning into to steal a brief kiss while the lift is still moving.
*
“So y’all are from England,” the waiter says when he brings their drinks to the table.
He’s looking at Dan, who feels the onus to answer on behalf of the table. “Yes,” he says reluctantly.
“Where about in England?” The guy rests the tray on his cocked hip.
“London,” Dan admits.
The guy, Andrew by his own admission and corroborated by his name tag, makes an impressed sound. “I’ve always wanted to try London.”
“It’s lovely,” Ben chimes in.
“Highly recommend it,” James adds.
They’re both grinning. Phil is too but it’s more subtle. Dan frowns. “You should go sometime,” he says politely.
“Oh, I think I will,” Andrew-the-waiter says while making a lot of eye contact.
“He’s hot,” Phil says when Andrew walks off.
Dan rolls his eyes. “Phil, you think 90% of the population is hot.”
“90% of the male population under 60.” Phil corrects him with a smirk, and the others laugh.
It feels good to be able to joke about it, to not have to watch their words, and Dan marvels again at the lightness he’s feeling in this moment.
Andrew the waiter keeps circulating very attentively, and Dan has already resigned himself to the fact that the guy is angling for a sizable tip. It’s fine, it happens fairly frequently, and Dan doesn’t mind recommending various tourist haunts and favorite neighborhoods as long as it all stays politely neutral. The others chime in a fair bit with ideas as well, but Dan really feels they’re leaving him to carry the brunt of the conversation. He finds himself a bit irritated with everyone’s good cheer and fed up with Andrew’s incessant questions when the guy delivers their check and the final hint, delivered like he’s starting to believe Dan is thicker than he has any right to be.
“Maybe we should exchange numbers. So I can hit you up. In London. If I go there.”
Dan has the good manners only to stare slightly too long. “Oh,” he says, panic slowing his brain to a crawl. “But I’m not at home.”
He ignores the muted sound of a dying rhino emanating from someone at the table. He refuses to look.
“Well, no,” Andrew says very kindly, like his estimate of Dan’s IQ is dropping 10s by the second. “I could show you around here. After work.”
“I, um, that’s… very kind of you. But. I’m.” He has to work so hard not to let his eyes flicker in Phil’s direction. “I’m spoken for.” He’s barely uttered the words before he can feel himself blushing furiously. This does happen from time to time, he just wasn’t expecting it in the middle of a group lunch outing. He runs the chitchat back and wants the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
Andrew is nothing if not persistent. He shrugs with a certain confrontational air. “Didn’t see a ring there. You could bring him.”
Dan is too gobsmacked to respond, and Andrew does beat a hasty retreat afterwards.
Turning to Phil, who is giggling helplessly, he hisses, “Why didn’t you save me?”
Phil’s tongue twists and his eyes leave Dan’s again as he laughs. “And done what? Challenged him to a duel? I don’t know, maybe you liked him.”
“Phil! I didn’t—“ He rests his head in his hand for one moment, feeling the residue of embarrassment slush through him.
“You look so cute when you’re oblivious,” Phil assures him.
“That was stellar entertainment,” James says. “You had him working so hard for it.”
“Oh god,” Dan groans. “Did we tip appropriately?”
“Not sure what the right percentage is for giving your waitstaff the runaround,” Ben says and gets to his feet.
“I didn’t mean to!” Dan says in despair as he follows him.
“That’s what makes it so adorable.” Ben slings an arm over his shoulder and ruffles his hair.
Phil passes them with his loping walk, still giggling slightly. Dan studies the shape of his profile, rubs his hands together, refuses to let himself think about the absence of a ring.
*
Kathryn Lester
Happy anniversary, loves. We hope you have a wonderful day planned. Sending you Lots of Love 💐💐😘😍
Phil Lester
Thanks mum ❤️ Didn’t manage to get an upgrade this time 😢
Kathryn Lester
Oh well. You can’t win them all. Better luck next time 😘
Nigel Lester
Happy day, boys.
Cornelia reacted with ❤️
Cornelia
Hope you have a wonderful day with some lovely quality time planned 💗 xxxx
thank you everyone we’ve ditched the others for the day and just taking it slow
Martyn Lester
Enjoy!
Cornelia sent a photo
Kathryn Lester
So precious 😍 How is munchkin?
Cornelia
She’s well, this was her this morning 🤣🤣
Dan reacts with appropriate uncle levels of enthusiasm and then drops his phone to cuddle back in properly.
“Happy fifteen,” Phil murmurs and plants a soppy kiss on Dan’s forehead.
Dan hums and laces their fingers together. “Fucking insane number.”
“Stop!” Phil laughs. “No existential crises on the special day.”
Dan holds their hands up in the air, twisting and turning them, studying the contrasts of their skin, the shapes of their fingers…
“You realize it’s too late to change it now,” Phil says, voice bubbling on some joke Dan is not quite awake enough to follow effortlessly.
“What do you mean?” he asks, freeing Phil’s fingers so they can trace the familiar paths across Dan’s skin, Dan soaking up the luxury of the soft touch. Then the meaning hits and he has to push halfheartedly at Phil. “You oaf! Too lazy to memorize a new date!? That’s your reason for not getting married?” He laughs.
Phil rolls with him, laughing as well. “That’s not what I said.”
Dan huffs. “So what are you saying? That you’re thinking about it?”
Phil rolls and chafes their legs together in the way he knows sets Dan’s teeth on edge, leg hairs catching uncomfortably. Dan wrestles him into a leg lock and Phil doesn’t resist. It takes him a while yet to answer, Dan’s mind drifting, not really expecting or needing the conversation to continue.
“Just saying we’re always thinking.” Phil’s voice is deep and comfortable, unstrained. “Maybe the reasons we dismissed it before don’t really apply anymore.”
Dan doesn’t say anything for a while. Of course if he’s been thinking it, so has Phil. They’re almost always on the same page. He listens to the familiar thump of Phil’s heart under his ear, thinks about a horrible twenty-four hours in hospital not too long ago at all and shudders it away again.
“A winter wedding,” he says, lightly and comfortably joking.
“Christmas wedding!” Phil says with deep enthusiasm.
“God, no! Horrible… Imagine the logistics.”
“Easy to remember…” The mischievous tone is unmistakable.
“Asshole,” Dan says with absolutely no passion. “Not a May date? Spread them out a bit.”
“Two special days with my special boy?”
“Shut… the fuck up.” Dan laughs incredulously and slips free so he can sit up and indicate how much he’s about to murder Phil.
Phil’s tongue curls in delight, his fingers looping loosely around Dan’s wrist in self defense.
“Getting ahead of yourself,” he teases. “Someone’s gotta pop the question first.”
Dan slithers back down, opting to kill Phil by smothering the air right out of him. He grunts satisfyingly and makes room for Dan between his legs.
“Better get popping, then.” He wiggles experimentally, just to see, and Phil makes that noise, but nothing else happens, so Dan is forced to keep thinking about it.
“Shall I do it right on stage, then?” Phil’s fingers tease down the back of his neck, down his spine, making him shiver.
“And make my special princess moment all about them? Fuck no.” Dan sticks his nose into the dip of Phil’s neck, pokes him a bit as punishment, but Phil just hums and tips his head back, looping his arms loosely around Dan’s back, and that’s… interesting.
“They’d love it.”
“Please stop talking about the children while our dicks are touching.”
“Could vlog it,” Phil muses, pretending he hasn’t heard Dan at all.
“What? DanIsNotBridezilla?”
Phil giggles and pushes his hips down into the mattress a bit. Also interesting. “LessAmazingWedding.”
Dan snorts and kisses him, maybe possibly a bit too much at the same time. There’s no more talking after that, Phil getting distracted with other things, and afterwards there’s brunch and a skybar and no reason for Dan to be thinking in jokes and hypotheticals when all he wants is right next to him.
**
“Maybe it would be nice to have rings,” Dan mutters, a little muffled by shyness and the consciousness that they’re not technically alone although they are in the back of the bus.
He sees Phil grin out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah?” Phil dips his head down and into Dan’s field of vision. His blonde ends are looking a little fried, his cheeks have a pink blush from the shower still. He slips his fingers out from between Dan’s and pinches the skin on his ring finger.
“Yeah.” Dan shrugs, not bothering to be defensive about it.
“Alright.” Phil shrugs as well, but there’s a combative, teasing tone to his voice, like he thinks he’s calling Dan’s bluff, even as he knows there is no bluff. The way he anticipates the punchline of a good joke, laughing before it lands.
“Yeah?” Dan can’t stop the grin he knows is taking over his face. It’s one of those particularly hopeless ones that he has no real power over, the ones that bloom out the way the warm and safe feeling blooms in his chest whenever Phil does something sweet.
“Yeah,” Phil says and bumps their shoulders together. He twitches like he might put his arm around Dan, eyes flicking to the darkness outside the bus windows, not risking it. “I’ll let you put a ring on it.” He laughs so Dan laughs too, shaking his head at the sheer idiocy of the two of them.
The bus jerks into motion, jostling them so their shoulders bump once again, and Phil’s face changes to an expression of surprise, grasping Dan’s hand again for support. Dan holds on tight, watching the streetlights slip past as the bus slides into traffic and starts them towards their next destination.