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“Phil, this is ridiculous. You have no coordination and I’m not exactly athletic, so why are we even trying?!” Dan asked, exasperated.
“Because, this is important to both of us!” Phil answered, “Now let’s go again and this time, keep your feet off my feet.”
“Wear shoes next time then, and mind your own feet!” Dan giggled.
“Less chatter, gentlemen, more concentration,” the instructor barked at them as he passed by. “Begin again. One, two, three…”
The pianist began the song again and Dan and Phil assumed the first position. It was a simple box step, but Phil kept reversing the order of the steps.
“I’m leading,” Dan whispered, “just look down and follow me.”
“I’m trying!” Phil whispered back.
“Heads up, gentlemen!” The instructor hissed. It was clear he was losing patience with the two young men.
“Sorry,” Dan said, smiling genially, trying to lighten the mood.
The instructor gave them a dirty look and walked towards the next couple down the line.
“He hates us,” Dan said.
“I know,” Phil agreed.
“Ouch!” Dan exclaimed.
“Sorry!” Phil replied, sheepishly.
When they got home the filled the bath half way and dropped in some Epsom salts and soaked their feet in the warm water.
“You know,” Phil said brightly, “we weren’t as bad as we were the first two lessons.”
“That’s true,” Dan said, “but that’s also not saying much, mate. The other couples are improving a lot faster than we are.”
“We just need to practice more,” Phil suggested.
“Yes we do. But not tonight. I don’t think my feet can take any more of your clod-hoppers mashing them flat, thank you very much.”
“Hey! You stepped on my feet just as often as I stepped on yours!” Phil attested.
“Whatever, mate!” Dan said, rolling his eyes.
After fifteen minutes, the water had cooled, and they dried off their feet and headed down to the kitchen to grab some food.
“West World and Dominos?” Phil suggested.
“Sounds good. You call, I’ll get the door.”
When the food arrived, they propped their sore feet on the coffee table, rested their backs against the sofa, and watched the next episode of West World while scarfing down the pizza.
Dan finished his food first and then snuggled in next to Phil who placed his arm around Dan’s shoulder. Dan pulled the blanket down from the back of the sofa and covered their legs, and before the show was finished, he had fallen into a deep sleep.
Phil grinned and stroked Dan’s hair. It really was the most exercise either one of them had had since the TATINOF tour the year before.
“We’ll get it Dan,” Phil whispered, “and it will be great.” He snuggled down next to Dan, and promptly fell asleep.
The next morning, they were an entanglement of arms and legs on the sofa. The doorbell rang and both of them started up to answer it, causing them to roll off of the couch and land roughly on the floor.
“OMG,” Phil gasped, “I think you broke my ribs!”
“Let go of my leg!” Dan said as he tried to free himself from the pretzel they had become.
The doorbell rang again.
“Coming!” They shouted in unison. Dan finally broke free and jogged down the steps to the front door. He paused to run a hand through his hair, smiled, then opened the door.
“Sign here,” said the impatient delivery man holding a long, slim box.
Dan signed and took the box, then hurried back up the stairs.
“Who was it?” Phil said, still lying on the floor.
“Get up, you spoon!” Dan said, shaking his head and grinning, “I think it’s them!”
“Already?!” Phil said, leaping up off of the floor.
“It’s been a week and a half and the man said eight to ten days so really it’s right on time, I reckon.”
“I’m afraid to see,” Phil said.
“Maybe we should just look at them later,” Dan suggested.
“I think it should be a more formal occasion, don’t you?” Phil asked.
“Definitely. And sort your hair, you look like you’re falling from a building,” Dan replied.
“Oh God,” Phil said, jogging to the mirror, “I think I put too much gel in it yesterday.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Dan encouraged.
“I hope so,” Phil said, rearranging his quiff as best he could. “I’m just so nervous.”
Dan walked up and wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist, so that they were both looking into the mirror. “It’s all going to be perfect. Don’t worry so much.” He leaned forward and kissed Phil on the cheek, then broke the embrace and walked back towards the box. “I’ll just put it under the bed for now.”
“Alright,” Phil agreed. “We’ll know when it’s the right time.”
That night, they asked Siri for some classical music, and assumed first position.
“Just think of it like making a box, Phil,” Dan patiently explained, “When I step forward, you step back.”
“Okay, stepping back,” Phil said, staring at his feet.
“Good! Now, step back with your other foot. Nice. Now, slide your left foot to the left. Correct. Now slide the right foot to the left. Now you’ve made the right side and the bottom of the box. Do you see?”
“Yes,” Phil said, his face full of concentration.
“Okay, then we make the left side of the box by sliding your foot forward. Good. Now the other foot. Good. Now the top of the box, so right foot, then left foot. Phil, you did it!”
“OMG, I made the box!” He squealed, jumping up and down.
“You made the box!” Dan agreed with a big laugh. “Now, just repeat that about a hundred more times and you’ve got it!”
“But what about the turning part?”
“I do that. Just keep making the box and I’ll slowly turn us. You don’t have to worry about that part at all,” Dan re-assured Phil.
“Okay,” Phil said, “Let’s do it again.”
They practiced for two hours, only stopping when their stomachs started protesting that dinner time was long past.
The instructor was duly impressed with their progress. Never one to be gregarious or exuberant, he simply nodded and gave them a, “Yes, that will do,” but they knew that coming from him, that simple statement was high praise.
Incorporating the dancing and turning with other couples was more of a challenge, but Dan was up to the task, gently maneuvering them over the dance floor without the slightest brush against another couple.
As they rode the train home, Dan said, “I think we’re ready.”
“I think so, too,” Phil agreed. “But we should still practice every day.”
“Or at least, every other day,” Dan suggested. “so we don’t get lazy about it.”
“That’s a good point,” Phil said. He rested his head on Dan’s shoulder as the empty train car sped them back towards their apartment.
“I think it’s time,” Phil said suddenly.
“Now?!” Dan asked.
“Yes. It just feels like time.”
Dan studied Phil’s face for a moment, then nodded. “It does, doesn’t it? Okay. Let’s do it.”
They walked up the stairs and Dan reached under the bed and pulled out the box, placing it gently on the bed.
“You open it,” Dan said. “I’m too nervous.”
“Okay,” Phil said, taking the box and gently lifting the tape from the edges, then opening the flaps. He removed a layer of soft white paper, and then the jacket came into view.
They stared in stunned silence. Several moments passed. Then Phil said, “It looks really nice.”
“Yeah,” Dan said, “It does. Really, really nice.”
“I’m afraid to touch it,” Phil admitted.
“I think it will be alright, I mean, it is supposed to be worn, after all,” Dan said, gently.
“Okay,” Phil said. “Do you want to take it out, or shall I?”
“You do it,” Dan said quickly.
“Alright.” Phil reached in and slowly pulled out the dark jacket by the hook of the hanger, being careful not to touch the fabric. He held it up in front so they could both see.
“It’s just so perfect,” Dan finally said, his voice barely audible.
“It looks better than it did in the store!” Phil agreed.
“What about the pants?” Dan asked.
“Okay, you get the pants out,” Phil said.
Dan pulled the pants out by their hanger and held them below the jacket.
Phil’s breath quickened at the sight. Dan started to grin.
“We should really try them on. Just to make sure, you know?” Dan suggested.
“Yes, we should,” Phil replied. “I wonder if this one is yours or mine?”
“I think it’s yours,” Dan said, peering into the box, “because the other pair of pants looks a bit longer.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Phil said. “Okay, then, let’s do it.”
“Okay” Dan said, reaching into the box for his jacket and pants.
Dan was finished dressing first, and helped Phil with his bowtie. The shoes required a shoehorn to don, but ended up fitting perfectly.
Dan stood up straight and looked at Phil, who was adjusting the laces on his shoe.
“Stand up straight and let’s see you,” Dan encouraged. Phil stood up and Dan gasped.
“You look amazing,” Dan said, simply.
“You do too, Dan,” Phil replied.
“How does it feel?”
“It fits perfectly,” Phil answered. “Yours?”
“Perfect. It’s flawless.”
“You should see yourself,” Phil suggested.
Dan turned towards the mirror and grew a bit pale as he examined his reflection.
Phil turned and studied himself, shaking his head slightly from side to side.
“It’s really happening, isn’t it?” Dan asked softly.
“Yes, it really is,” Phil replied under his breath.
They stood for several moments and then, startling Dan, Phil proclaimed, “We should practice now! In these!”
“Seriously? Do you think? What if we tear them?”
“We won’t” Phil said. “Come on!”
“We don’t have any music!”
“Hey, Siri,” Phil called to his phone on the bed, “play our song,”
The song began playing, and Dan and Phil assumed the first position. In unison, they took to the dance, smoothly gliding across the floor. Their feet moved together with flawless timing, and slowly, their worried faces turned to warm grins.
When the music stopped, they continued to dance, pulling each other closer.
“That was perfect,” Dan whispered.
“It really was,” Phil said.
Dan leaned in and gently kissed Phil’s lips.
“Two more weeks, Phily,” Dan said softly.
“Two more weeks, Bear,” Phil nodded.
“Hey SIri,” Phil said as he assumed first position once more, “Play our song.”