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It’s the middle of the night when thunder starts to crack over head.
Within a moment, Phil’s shoving his laptop off his legs, sitting up a little straighter in bed. Dan glances over to see his eyes go wide as he turns to look at where raindrops splatter against the bedroom window before rolling down the glass. A smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he watches Phil’s fall open in glee.
“You okay?”
Phil turns to him, grinning wide. “I love thunderstorms.”
Dan knows. It’s been years of spending them inside their apartment, watching Phil watch the rain and flashes of lightning erupting over the city. Back in Manchester, he used to step onto the balcony, leaving the door half open so water would splatter against the floor until Dan drew it closed.
Tonight, he sinks back against his pillows just as Phil untangles himself from the blankets and steps out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
Phil shrugs. “Outside.” He reaches across the bed to tear Dan’s hand away from his keyboard. “You’re coming with me.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
Thunder grumbles again, and Phil giggles. “You’d be up anyway. Come on.”
Dan does, setting his laptop aside and stumbling to his feet. The house is dark. Kath, Nigel, Martyn and Cornelia all went to bed after they finished their game of Monopoly, yawning and pointing out the clouds that were turning the night darker than it would usually be. But Phil’s been coming here for years. He knows the path from the bedroom he’s only now sharing with Dan to the nearest door,
They’re quiet as they slip outside. Dan realizes only when his toes touch wet tile that neither of them put on shoes.
Phil’s still wearing his abhorrently endearing emoji pyjamas. Dan’s sleep shorts are barely longer than his pants.
He stands under the eave, watching fat drops of water fall from the roof, as Phil steps towards the pool. In the distance, a flash of lightning cracks over the ocean, and Phil bounces on his toes.
“You’re like a dog,” says Dan. A big drop of water manages to land on his shoulder, but he’s still smiling wide at where Phil’s yellow trousers seem to gleam in the lowlit night.
“You love dogs,” says Phil, turning back to smile at Dan. “Now come here.”
“But my hair–”
Dan can’t tell for sure, not from here, but he’s pretty sure Phil rolls his eyes.
“You can shower tomorrow.”
Dan huffs, mumbling a quiet: “Fine.”
A big drop of water hits him right on top of the head as he steps out from under the roof. Raindrops splatter on his cheeks, already starting to soak through his t-shirt. Phil reaches for him again, just as more thunder sounds. He takes Dan’s hand, both their palms wet with rain so it’s a little uncomfortable, but Dan doesn’t pull away.
More lightning erupts over the ocean.
Dan turns to watch the smile spread across Phil’s face.
“Your glasses are wet,” he points out.
“Yeah,” says Phil. “Your face is a little distorted.”
Dan giggles, the silly kind that bubble from him for no reason and remind him of cold winter days, when he was younger and time spent with Phil was a break from his normal. Phil squeezes his hand, warm and comforting, and turns back to the ocean.
It feels weird, being here. It has all week, since Dan first decided that flying to the Bahamas was worth it to partake in a family vacation he’s been invited to for years. He feels small, insignificant, watching waves go white in stormy winds. Florida’s hot and the rain water is warm and Dan thinks it matches the easy sense of belonging that’s settled in his chest over the past few days.
Another clap of thunder sounds. Another flash of lightning strikes the water.
Dan presses a kiss to Phil’s shoulder when he smiles at the sight.