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During the last few days of May, Phil genuinely considers going home.
For the whole month.
June is Pride Month — a time to celebrate being a member of the LGBTQ+ community, not be ashamed of it.
And recently, the mood around everything queer has been bordering on toxic in the Howell-Lester flat. Lately, Phil has been flinching every time there’s mention of the community, even if it’s not in direct reference to him. He’s noticed Dan doing it too, detected a subtle edge to Dan’s nerves when he’s scrolling through tumblr or talking to anyone other than Phil. That’s not how Phil wants to live — and it’s certainly not how he wants to spend Pride month.
Since the video had been released, there has been an almost insufferable tension between Dan and Phil. Both of them have been reacting to their near-outing in different ways. Dan has been loud and vehement about denying it, but Phil knows his silent ignorance of it hasn’t been any better.
Now, it’s the first of June, and Phil had ran out for milk and bread. He’s standing in the middle of Tesco seriously wondering if he should say fuck it and go to the bus station and head to Rawtenstall instead. Across the aisle are two girls, their hands linked, both wearing temporary tattoo rainbows on their cheeks.
Phil doesn’t want that, per say — he doesn’t have any need to be so loudly out at this moment in time, but it’s making him feel worse about being so loudly in. A part of him, even if it’s not a very big part, is so incredibly envious of how free those girls — and everyone celebrating Pride this month — get to be. That’s not an option for him and Dan. They don’t get to flaunt their sexualities, or talk about how proud they are to be queer. Both of their careers are too public, too in-progress for that.
But that doesn’t stop Phil from feeling jealous of the two girls across the aisle, and everyone else who gets to go to Manchester Pride later this month.
Running away won’t solve it, though. Phil knows that he’ll feel much shitter at his childhood home, completely alone and cut off from the LGBTQ+ community. His mum would probably try to do something to celebrate for Phil, but it wouldn’t be the same. So the same thing that had kept Phil from fleeing all last week made him grab a random bag of bread and drop it in his basket: Dan.
At the till, Phil adds a bag of Maltesers to the basket — a treat for Dan. The cashier is polite to Phil, but she had been chatty and giggly with the lesbian couple in front of him. And when Phil’s eyes catch on the bisexual flag pin on her smock, Phil gets why.
The trek back to their flat seems longer than normal. It feels like every step, Phil sees more rainbows, more pride flags, more gay. Phil just wants to be home, tucked in the safety of his flat, where he doesn’t have to worry about schooling his expression into something that won’t give him away as queer, but also won’t make him seem homophobic. As Phil pushes open the front door of their apartment building, a wave of relief washes through him — but there’s also a hint of loss. Phil doesn’t quite understand his mixed feelings about rainbows and colors and Pride, and as he plods up to their floor, he’s not in the mood to try to analyze them, either.
Out in Manchester, Phil expects the rainbows and the Pride. But inside of his building, on the handle of his door, he does not.
But there is. Looped around the doorknob, there is a small rainbow scrunchie. It shocks Phil so much that he steps back and checks the door number — yup, definitely their apartment. Unsure of what to expect, Phil puts his key in the lock and turns the handle.
The first thing Phil registers when he steps inside is color. There’s pink and green and blue and purple and red and orange. Slowly, Phil’s eyes adapt to the change, and he realizes what the colors are — rainbow party streamers. The ribbons are all over the apartment, draped across their furniture and stretching between the cabinets. And there’s a banner too, a banner that brightly says PRIDE in a multitude of colors.
Phil comes to a full stop just a few steps into the flat, and nearly drops the bag of groceries he’s holding.
“Dan?” he calls out tentatively, walking further inside and setting the bag on the breakfast bar.
Dan pops out of their (well, Phil’s, technically) bedroom, smiling widely.
“What’s all this?” Phil gestures vaguely to the streamers around his head.
Dan walks over to Phil, wrapping his hands around Phil’s waist and nuzzling in close. Phil feels Dan’s breath brush across his neck as Dan whispers, “Happy Pride, Phil.”
“How did you do this all so quickly?” Phil asks. It wasn’t quite the right question — he was more curious about why Dan had done this — but it was as good of place as any to start.
“I ordered it online last week and was just waiting for you to leave,” Dan mumbles into his neck before pulling back and meeting Phil’s eyes. “Do you hate it? I can take it down if you hate it.”
“It’s wonderful,” Phil whispers, stroking his thumb against Dan’s cheek. “Why, though?”
Dan leans in and presses a soft kiss to Phil’s lips, pulling back before Phil has the chance to properly kiss back. “I just… everything that I’ve been saying online, the way we’ve had to be in public recently… I wanted us to have a physical reminder that it isn’t true. You’re my best friend, Phil, but you’re so much more than that. I love you so much and I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of it.”
Dan picks up a bit of the leftover ribbon from the bar and wraps it around Phil’s shoulders, using it as leverage to force him impossibly closer. “As as matter of fact, Phil, I’m very, very proud to love you. And I don’t want you to forget that just because the world doesn't get to know right now.”
Phil feels tears welling in his eyes. He’s so completely surprised and touched, not only by Dan’s spontaneous mini Pride celebration, but also by the unexpected show of affection.
“I love it, Dan.” Phil tugs on Dan’s hips, not succeeding in pulling him any closer since they are already touching from chest to knees, and leans in to kiss him — properly this time. Dan melts into the kiss, moving his lips against Phil’s with matched intensity. Their lips part, and their tongues slip out, dancing together. It’s not a rushed or heated kiss, but Phil can feel the passion and love thrumming through him
When they both need air, Phil pulls back and whispers into his boyfriend’s ear, “I’m proud to love you too, Bear.”