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It looms over his head--an ominous cloud that shouldn’t mean anything to him. It shouldn’t, but it does. It really does. The closer it gets the more he feels it--the way his knee always pops a little when he bends it, the little lines that frame his eyes, the way skin that used to be tight feels a little softer.
It shouldn’t bother him. It’s just a number after all.
*
Scrolling through facebook is always a mistake.
“Remember that guy Zack I told you about? The one I went to high school with?”
Dan is sat next to him on the sofa, a thick fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders, laptop resting on his thighs. “The one you were in love with?”
“Shut up.” Phil stretches his leg out and digs his long toes into the side of Dan’s thigh. “Yeah, that one.”
“Ow, fuck off. I remember.” Dan smiles, eyes still on the screen. “Did he finally come to his senses like fifteen years later?”
“It has not been fifteen years,” Phil protests.
“Close enough.”
Phil frowns. Dan’s right, it’s close enough, and Phil hates how much that bothers him.
“What about him, then?” Dan asks.
“He’s a doctor now.”
Dan finally pries his eyes from his computer, turning his head to look at Phil. “Are you stalking old crushes on facebook, Phil?”
“Maybe.” He’d meant to sound cheeky. He failed. He looks away so he doesn’t have to see Dan’s brows knit together with concern.
“He’s probably got enough student debt to last a lifetime. And he probably hasn’t had time for more than messy one night stands and wanking in the shower for like, ten years.”
Phil smiles. He doesn’t bother telling Dan that not everyone puts such a high priority on falling in love. “Yeah,” he says, leaning over and resting his head on Dan’s soft shoulder. “What a loser.”
*
“What do you want for your birthday?”
Phil yawns, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his whole body begging him to go back to bed. He can’t, he tells himself. He’s too damn old to be sleeping until midday.
“A time machine.”
Dan hands him a steaming mug. “Do they sell those at Topman?”
Phil slumps against the counter and takes a long drink of his molten hot coffee, feeling it burn all the way down his throat. “I wish.”
“Sorry, mate,” Dan says, pouring a hefty serving of Crunchy Nut into Phil’s bowl. “Would you settle for like, socks or something instead?”
Phil shrugs. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Phil.” Dan says. “I was kidding.”
“It’s too early for kidding.”
“Tell me what you actually want, then.”
Phil shrugs again. “You don’t have to get me anything.”
“Alright mister grumpy ding dong, I’ll ask you after you’ve had your coffee, god.”
*
“I wasn’t trying to be an ass earlier, I really don’t need any gifts.” Phil is sprawled out on the bed and staring at the ceiling while Dan edits their latest Sims video. He’s allowed to be lazy, he tells himself. He’s getting properly old now and he still doesn’t feel completely recovered from gamingmas.
Dan sighs. “Have you met me? You know I’m going to get you all the things. I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“I just… it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Dan turns in the butt chair to look at Phil incredulously. “You’re turning thirty. Isn’t that like, the definition of a big deal?”
Phil throws his arm over his eyes. “Right.” He feels the bed dip in the space next to him. Dan’s lips brush his ear.
“Stop being stupid.”
Phil can’t help but smile. “Ok.”
“Tell me what you want.”
Phil rolls over onto his side to face Dan. Their noses brush together. He reaches up and rubs the patch of closely shaved hair above Dan’s ear. “You.”
“I mean besides that.”
“The fountain of youth.”
Dan closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Phil, I swear to god…”
Phil’s tongue pokes out from between his teeth. “Ok fine. I’ll settle for a lava lamp.”
*
“Ugh.” He’s lying on his side cradling the small pouch of his stomach, full up with the amazing dessert he’d eaten way too much of earlier that night. His head spins a little now he’s lying so still in the quiet darkness of their bedroom. “Why’d you let me eat that much?”
Dan pulls off his shirt and crawls in beside Phil, snuggling up and filling in the space between them. He smells like wine and aftershave, his chest warm against Phil’s back. If Phil wasn’t in the throes of a potential crisis he’d have had Dan’s pants off by now. “It’s your birthday, you spork. You’re supposed to eat a load of sweets.”
“It’s not my birthday yet.”
“Isn’t worrying about stupid things supposed to be my branding?”
Phil rolls over onto his back. “I’m not worrying.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Phil slaps his belly, the harsh sound echoing loudly. “I’m getting fat.”
Dan slides his hand onto Phil’s stomach, pushing Phil’s hand aside and stretching out his fingers. “You are not.”
Phil sighs. Usually drinks and good food and nights out with Dan, Bryony and Wirrow make him happy. But not tonight.
Usually he doesn’t think about it, but they’re all younger than him. Dan’s still got the face of a teenager, for god’s sake. Bryony’s got a real job and Wirrow… well there’s only so much envy he can feel before it becomes unhealthy.
For some reason, the space between twenty nine and thirty suddenly feels like a whole hell of a lot more than it is.
Maybe it’s the constant reminders in the various comments sections, the alarming frequency with which he’s forced to read words like ‘dad’ and ‘daddy.’ They’d never been more than mildly uncomfortable until now, when he’s staring down the barrel of a whole new decade. He is actually old enough to be their dad--some of them anyway. He also can’t walk up all the stairs in their flat without getting winded like he’d gone for a run.
He won’t even be a young adult anymore--just an adult. It doesn’t really change anything. He’s been living on his own and doing his own laundry and paying taxes for years. He’s lived in three different cities and written two books and toured the world, for god’s sake. He’s a fucking millionaire. He’s got the love and devotion of millions of fans and the man he considers his soul mate.
But he’s also got a few grey hairs stubbornly nestled between the black ones behind his ear. He lives in a rented flat with cracks in the walls and a strange smell that he’s really starting to suspect may be a gas leak.
He’s drunk. Wine goes straight to his head and he’d drunk a lot at dinner. Dan’s fingers are cold as they stroke the trail of hair above the line of Phil’s boxers.
“Should we get married?”
He’s lucky Dan’s drunk too, and not necessarily inclined to pick up on the quiet crack of desperation in Phil’s voice.
“Haven’t we had this conversation already?”
Phil rubs over the stubble that frames his jaw. “Yeah.”
“Has anything actually changed?”
Phil is quiet for a long time before he answers. “I guess not.”
“Then shut up, please. We have a long day tomorrow.”
Phil breathes a sigh of relief and allows the tension in his shoulders to relax a little. Throwing that word around so carelessly would not have gone down well had Dan been sober and fully awake. “It’s like an hour flight to Isle of Man.”
“Yeah but you know Kath is gonna make us hike all over the bloody island.”
“Good. I need the exercise.”
“Phil, will you shut the fuck up already?” Dan says crossly, pulling his hand off Phil’s stomach. “What is wrong with you?”
Phil winces at the sudden change in Dan’s tone, but it’s not entirely unexpected. He knows he’s being unreasonable and whiny and passive aggressive, but apparently he can’t help it. “Nothing,” he says, rolling over, his back to Dan. “Just tired, I guess. Good night.” He hears the bed squeak a little as Dan gets up.
“I’m thirsty. Want anything?”
Phil doesn’t turn around. “No.” He hears Dan’s feet padding heavy against the carpet as he leaves the room. He pulls the duvet up over his shoulder and presses his face into the pillow.
Tears prick his eyes and his throat is tight. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He has everything he could ever want--everything that really matters, anyway. Anything more would just be icing on the cake.
And yet he’s lying in the bed they share and choking back all these fears and doubts that really hadn’t been there a few months ago. And even worse, he’s taking it out on Dan. He can’t help it though, no matter how much he tries to reason with himself. That pit is still there, low down in stomach, swirling sourly when he remembers that in a couple days he’ll be the age his own father was when Phil had been born.
He balls his hands up into fists and pushes them against the dampness of his eyelids, hoping the pain will distract his brain from this train of thought. He wishes he hadn’t drunk so much tonight. He doesn’t even really like drinking that much, the way it loosens the tight grip he has on his emotions. Tonight of all nights, he really should have known better. He’d hoped it’d make him forget, but the spinning of his head and the slight numbness on his lips is only serving to weaken the boundaries he’s set up between himself and his self-doubt.
He lies still, quiet, listening for the sound of Dan’s footsteps on the stairs. He doesn’t hear anything, not for a long time. He’s starting to think Dan may actually be sleeping in his own bed tonight. Phil feels the lump in his throat burn hot and thick. He swallows over it. He’s not going to cry. And he’s not going to go to sleep before he fixes things. It’s one of the many things his mum had taught him about life and love. ‘Never go to sleep on an argument.’
He’s about to get up when he suddenly hears Dan’s big feet thudding up the stairs, a lot quicker than they’d been before. He’s out of breath when he walks through the doorway. He stops at the bed and Phil looks at him questioningly. “I don’t stop being afraid of the dark just because I’m upset.”
Phil wants to laugh, but the pain he feels knowing he’s hurt Dan overrides everything. It’s the antithesis to who he is as a person, causing Dan pain. He sits up in the bed and hugs his knees, wondering how he’d gone from desperately needing comfort himself to being the one to try to provide it. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why did you say that?” Dan’s voice is quiet. He sounds far away.
Phil rests his forehead on his knees, hiding his face in his lap. The room is dark and he can’t see much besides the outline of Dan’s face against the dim lights from the street filtering in from between the curtains, but it’s still too much. Everything feels too much right now. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Dan stays where he is, stood next to the side of the bed. “You were thinking of something.”
Phil doesn’t know what to say. What he does know is that he fucked up, hard.
Dan sits on the edge of the bed, facing away from Phil. “Did you even mean it?”
Phil answers quickly, before he has time to second guess himself. “You were right, nothing’s changed.” He pauses for a moment, but it’s too harsh a statement not to qualify, especially not right now. “But you know that doesn’t meant I don’t want to.”
Dan drops his head into his hands. “I know.”
“I don’t want to have to take off my ring every time I leave the house.”
Dan sighs. “I know. I don’t either.”
Phil reaches out and traces his finger along Dan’s spine. “C’mere, please. I’m sorry.”
Dan doesn’t turn around. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
Phil drops his hand. “It’s so stupid.”
“It’s not. Not if it’s bothering you this much.”
Phil grabs Dan’s arm and pulls. “You’re too far away. Please.”
Dan lets Phil pull him into the bed and under the covers. Phil leans forward and presses his lips to Dan’s cheek. When he pulls away, they’re wet. “Oh my god, Dan, I’m--”
“It’s not that,” Dan insists, swiping his cheek roughly with the back of his hand. “You know I get blubbery when I’m drunk.”
“You do not. You get horny.”
“Well, I was, before.”
Phil groans, burying his face in Dan’s neck. “I’m sorry!”
Dan wraps his arm around the back of Phil’s neck. “You’re scared.”
Phil nods.
“Of turning thirty?”
“Yeah, I guess… I guess I am.”
“Why?” To his credit, Dan sounds genuinely confused. For whatever reason, that makes Phil feel a little better.
“I told you it was stupid.”
“It really is, Phil.”
“It’s a scary number.”
“But that’s all it is,” Dan says softly.
“What?”
Dan rubs gentle circles against Phil’s shoulder. “A number, you idiot.”
“It feels different.”
“Why?”
“Because…” He can’t really think of a way to put words together to answer Dan’s question, not without sounding selfish and ungrateful. He knows he’s probably one of the luckier people on this planet. “It’s just… thirty. Thirty. It’s just not… sexy.”
Dan tugs the hair at the nape of Phil’s neck. “Actually, it is.”
“I’m horrifically unfit.”
“We both are,” Dan replies instantly. “And I’m only twenty six.”
“You’re twenty five,” Phil corrects.
“Even worse.”
“I live in an apartment that’s literally falling apart.”
“We’re moving in a few months!” Dan squawks.
Phil persists with his list. “I’m going grey.”
“Silver fox.”
“I mostly film myself on my bed as a career. Half the time I can’t even be bothered to put on trousers.”
Dan sighs. “Phil, don’t phrase it like that. You love what you do, and you make people happy doing it.”
Phil shrugs.
All of a sudden, Phil feels the full weight of Dan pushing him down into the bed. Soft light fills the room as Dan flicks on the bedside lamp. Phil looks up into the face that hovers over him, Dan’s face, all fair and smooth, and Phil’s already halfway to feeling silly for the way he’s been acting. He’s not going to say that though, because he’s pretty sure Dan’s about to give him what he now realizes he’s been after the whole time.
“Enjoy this, because I’m not gonna be doing it every time you’re being stupid about something.”
Phil nods.
“Only because it’s your birthday and I love you and I need you to get over yourself before your mum sees you or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Phil smiles, nodding again.
Dan drops his weight down onto his elbows and pushes the fringe off Phil’s forehead. He leans down and kisses Phil’s temple gently. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Phil opens his mouth to respond, but Dan presses his finger to Phil’s lips. “It’s my turn to talk, young man. You just listen.”
Phil nods, kissing the tip of Dan’s finger.
Dan moves down a little and kisses Phil’s cheekbone. “Since the moment I first laid eyes on you, I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.” He runs his thumb down Phil’s cheek and across his bottom lip. “I love your freckly cheeks.” He leans down again and presses his lips to Phil’s so lightly it tickles a little. “I love kissing these.”
Phil reaches up and wraps his hand loosely around Dan’s forearm. He can already feel emotion tightening in his chest, this time for a completely different reason.
Dan kisses Phil’s neck just below the ear. “I love your whole body,” he whispers. “I love your nipples and your knees and your fingers. I love your Shakira hips and your clumsy feet.”
Phil chuckles quietly, squeezing Dan’s arm.
“I love all your naughty bits too, but we can save that for another time.”
“Promise?” Phil asks.
Dan looks into Phil’s eyes then, his expression serious. “I’m gonna make a speech now, ok? Are you ready?”
Phil nods. He bites his lip. He already knows he’s going to be crying in a minute.
“You make me fall harder every day. Even when I’m annoyed with you for leaving your shit on the floor or not closing the cupboard doors. Even when I ask you to put the laundry in the dryer and you forget or you kiss me in the morning with marmalade breath. Even when you stain the bathroom floor with hair dye and leave candles lit all over the flat. Even when I hate you, I love you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”
“Dan.” Phil’s voice breaks, just on that one single word.
“Wait,” Dan says, and he sounds almost as wrecked as Phil feels. “You inspire me. You always have. You make me want to work harder and be better. You make me want to be the kind of person you deserve to be with.”
“You are,” Phil whispers.
Dan shakes his head. “I love watching you get older, Phil. I love that I’m the one who gets to help you celebrate another year gone by, because it’s another year I got to spend loving and being loved by you.”
Phil doesn’t know if Dan’s speech is over yet or not, but he doesn’t care. He grabs Dan’s face and crashes their mouths together. He doubts he’ll ever lament another trip around the sun again, not as long as Dan is there to hold his hand.
Dan pulls back after a minute, breathless. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“I don’t want to cry on my birthday.”
Dan smiles. “It’s not your birthday yet, remember?”
Phil rubs his fingers over his misty eyes. “I think you made your point.”
Dan smiles and rolls off of Phil to lie beside him. He takes Phil’s hand in his and laces their fingers together. “One more thing?” he asks.
“Go on, then,” Phil says.
“I’ll go to the gym with you if you want.”
Phil laughs loudly. He’d not been expecting that. He’d have honestly expected a sudden breakup before Dan volunteering to exercise. “Really?”
Dan nods. “If it’ll make you feel better. Not because I think you need it.”
“You really do love me, don’t you?”
“Yes, rat. I love you.”
Phil is quiet for a long time, basking in the warmth of Dan’s words. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Dan turns over onto his side and shuffles backwards, signalling for Phil to spoon him. Phil obliges and wraps his arm around Dan’s waist. He leans forward and kisses Dan’s shoulder before saying, “You know you’re going to be ten times the wreck I was when you turn thirty.”
Dan laughs. “Of course. Good thing I’ll have a well fit, older boyfriend to talk to me through it.”
Phil closes his eyes. All of a sudden he can’t wait to be older. “No.”
“No?” Dan asks.
“No. Husband.”