Chapter Text
It started, of course, out of Dan’s infuriating persistence.
“Just go to that meeting. It will literally cost you nothing.” Dan repeats with a mouth full of toothpaste. He continues to address Phil’s reflection in the mirror, watching his partner’s crouched body as he pulls on fuzzy socks. “If you don’t, you’ll never hear the end of it from Marianne.” He spits and turns on the faucet.
“We both know there’s plenty to lose. Picture this,” Phil starts, unravelling their bedding. He swings a leg over to the soft surface, crossing his legs. He watches his husband emerge from their ensuite in his usual black shorts and nothing else. “I go to the meeting. They suggest something ridiculous, like dinner at Le Gavroche, and they’d tell me all about how excited they are to work with me, use my branding as an existing platform to give me the creative control so many young filmmakers could only dream about--”
“Yourself included,” Dan interrupts.
“Yes, young Kill Bill-obsessed Philly included. They get excited, I get excited, and once they send me off to work on this, the emotional baggage of repressing my original and bold ideas due to intense insecurity and fear of judgement will come haunt me and ruin my one chance. I die, you die, and poor little Pancake will have to live with your parents for the rest of your life. Isn’t that right, pumpkin?” He scratches the ear of the dog quietly resting at the foot of their bed. Her head perks up at the attention.
Dan rolls his eyes. “Since when when did you get so cynical?
“Probably since I married you.”
He softly laughs at that, eyes naturally wandering to the prim marriage certificate hanging on the wall across from them at his own insistence. “It was your choice, mate.” He watches Phil scroll down his phone, taking one last look before switching it off.
Dan isn’t gonna let this go.
“Alternate outcome,” he gently takes Phil’s phone from his hands. He watches his lips start to pout in frustration.”You take this creative freedom you’ve been secretly wanting for so long, and you end up with a groundbreaking masterpiece, paving the way to us finally attending the oscars. You win, I cry, Kath cries, and you get to take me to Cannes next year.” He suddenly drops the banter and takes a deep breath. “Seriously, Phil, please just go? For me?”
Phil slowly shakes his head. “Does it really matter to you that much?”
Dan gives him his classic deadpan look.
“Alright, alright, fine! Whatever. I’ll go to a meeting with whoever Marianne has a contact with.” His stomach churns at the decision, but with regret or thrill, he’s not quite sure.
Dan, however, lights up. “Yeah? You’re really gonna go?”
“Yes, Dan, I’m really gonna go. But I’m gonna order the most elaborate cocktail they have.” He slumps onto the pillows and switches off the lamp. He feels arms wrap around him, and hears a soft voice speak.
“Thank you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I love you.”
“That’s more of a legal obligation.”
“Fuck off.”
***
As Dan elbows his way through the 6pm rush at Piccadilly station two weeks later, he feels his back pocket vibrate. He fishes it out once he emerges from the steps and into the fresh air. His lips quirk upwards at Phil’s dumbfounded face at his call log. He immediately dials back.
“Hey!” He hears Phil on the other side.
“Hey, how was it?”
A beat of pointed silence. “Dan.”
“What?”
“Did you and Marianne just happen to forget to tell me I was meeting Noah Sacco?”
Dan represses a chuckle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do. I’d like to take a moment for you to truly appreciate the ambush I felt when I realized I was talking to the executive of freaking A24.”
Dan couldn’t judge if he was truly angry or not, but felt twinges of guilt nevertheless. “We agreed not to say anything because it would only freak you out.” He replies as he turns a corner, wating to cross. “Look, I’ll be home in, like, ten minutes. Tell me all about it at dinner?”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“Love you! Bye.”
Phil replies with a bunch of incoherent noises that most likely were intended to be animal sounds, followed by the end of the call.
Dan laughs heartily, spirits only rising due to the nice night. Despite feeling guilty over their ambush, not a part of him believes Phil faltered under the Academy heavyweight. All these years and he still marvels at his husband’s relentless professionalism and composure under these situations.
Although a part of him does wish he got to see those five seconds of shock.
***
They’re feasing on Dan’s homemade enchiladas with reruns of The Walking Dead playing in the background. Phil’s in the middle of briefing his incredibly anticipated lunch, scooping more sour cream into his plate.
“And so he pitched me some ideas, gave me his card, and took the bill.”
“Sounds like a lovely date.”
Phil snorts. “Oh, and get this. Marianne told me they know about my channel, obviously, but he also brought up my Master’s and everything? It’s so crazy.”
"How absolutely astonishing," he mutters back, eyes trailing sideways. In the beat of silence that follows, he bites his lip and chuckles, practically feeling the other figuring it out.
"Oh my god. You told them."
"Maybe?"
"You're such an ass, oh my god." He stabs his fork into a piece of tomato and indignantly shoves it into his mouth.
"Aw, come on, like you would ever tell them!"
"Yeah, but literally any hint of a heads up would have been much appreciated."
"So are you excited?" As much as Dan was enjoying Phil pouting and making a scene, he knew it was his way of edging around a topic.
Phil rolls his eyes at the blatant attempt to change the subject, but earnestly replies, "Yeah. I really, really am."
“I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so’, but...” Dan smiles triumphantly.
"There's something else." Phil adds with hesitation. He props his head on one hand and looks straight into Dan's curious gaze. This, among many others, is where they are polar opposites. Whereas Dan can't help but squirm under serious eye contact, Phil used it as another piece of him to grasp onto.
Dan mirrors the gesture, signalling him to continue. This, he didn't expect; nothing but flitting theories are circulating his head.
"I asked if the project could be a collaboration." He finishes shyly.
"Well, I'd hope so. Unless you wanna try your hand at boom operating and Kraft services." Dan chuckles, unsure of where this is going.
"No, Dan, I," Phil smiles slightly and takes a deep breath. "I asked if I could have a co-director. A second person at the helm."
Dan stays silent, slowly piecing it together. He feels his pulse rise as his husband continues.
"Look, before you can give me your whole spiel on how I should do this alone, you know I haven't done anything this massive in scale before. I can't do it alone--"
"Of course you could do it alone!"
"--and so the studio will most likely hand me a shiny hip filmmaker for me to work with." Phil persists. He shifts his chair forward to grab Dan's hands. "And I guess you can't really blame me when I say there's only one person I can truly do this with. Or anything, for that matter."
Dan bites his lip. It's fucking silly, so uncomprehendingly ridiculous, for him to blush at a man who he's seen break his foot trying to teach their dog how to ice skate or clean his puke when he was struck with the flu. But the thrilling rush comes through anyway, jolting nerves and cracking a smile so wide he can hardly remember the last time he's felt so earnestly estaticic about any prospect.
Perhaps this feeling's been evading him since he was a spiteful twenty-something being offered a glowing opportunity to London, so many years ago.
"You're absolutely sure?" He whispers, sickly sweet self indulgence tangling its way around a dozen counter arguments he could've used instead.
"One hundred percent." Phil smiles an enormous, goofy smile, bumps his knees into Dan's. At that, Phil picks up their dishes en route to the dishwasher.
Dan should've seen it coming, really; just as he could pull ropes so effortlessly to blindside Phil, he had been lured just as easily, as if it were a natural counter-reaction in preserving their unfailing balance.
So it was settled. They were going to make a film.