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The crackling noise made by burning logs is one of the happiest sounds for Phil. It reminds him of his childhood when he was burning leaves in his garden with his parents. It reminds him of home. He even likes that he smells like smoke afterwards.
“You’d think the fire would be, you know, hot.” Dan tightens his hoodie around his body, trying to keep himself warm. They’re quite high up still in the Rockies and after the Sun has gone down, the air got noticeably cool. They decided to stay for a bit and roast marshmallows. “Can I just sit in it?”
“That wouldn’t be on brand but shhh,” Phil says as he throws an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He kisses his temple but keeps listening to the sound of fire.
On the other side, his brother is sitting on the trunk of a dead tree, leaning his back against it. He’s watching the fire as well; they lock eyes and smile, both of them remembering their happy childhoods in Rawtenstall.
Dan turns the stick in his hand, browning and melting the other side of his marshmallow. They probably would’ve had more left if Phil hadn’t eaten half of it, but it’s still a better snack than the stale popcorn in the hotel’s vending machine. The three of them sit quietly, listening to the fire and the distant hooting of owls.
Once the marshmallows are eaten, there’s just the warmth provided by the fire that remains. They should be heading back, but they’re far from Denver and the lights of the city. They might as well be in another world, a world that’s long forgotten where only the starry sky and the orange-red flames exist.
“I forgot how much you like listening to fires,” Dan whispers after a couple of minutes. Phil’s been vaguely aware of Dan looking at him, but he’s been too happy to notice. “We’ll have to get a proper fireplace.”
“I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I remember everything.”
“Gross,” Phil says that in the same tone as he says ‘I love you’ to Dan when he does something super dorky. He knows Dan won’t miss it; and he’s right. He smiles against Phil’s chest, knowing well enough what Phil means.
Martyn on the other side throws a couple of sticks into the fire. “Should we sing Kumbaya?”
Dan groans. “I’ll throw you in the fire if you do.”
“Kumbaya, my lord…” Martyn sings.
Phil throws a rock in his direction, but he misses it by miles, of course. He moves his hand to Dan’s torso as he settles into the crook of his neck. They should be heading back, but it’s really nice to sit under the stars, caring about nothing and no one. It’s really nice to just sit and enjoy the crackling of fire before they have to continue the tour.
And yes, they definitely have to get a proper fireplace in their forever home.