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The tour bus is parked on a random street, and they have a two hour break for dinner. The crew have scouted out a nice restaurant a couple of blocks away and are gathering outside on the sidewalk.
Marianne is in the door of the bus looking in. “You sure you don’t want a proper sit-down meal? Get off the bus a little?”
Dan is in his space cats tee and he looks tired. “What I need is two hours with no one around to look at me. I just want to shove carbs in my face without smiling or talking.”
Marianne smiles. “And where does he fit in?” She tips her head towards Phil.
Dan rolls his eyes. “Phil doesn’t count.”
“Alright, laddies, see you back here in two hours.” She’s raises her voice for the benefit of the rest of the crew.
Dan follows her down the stairs to the door so he can pull it shut after her.
“Don’t do anything gross in there,” someone calls.
“Count on it, mate,” Dan says and leans for the door. “Oh, and knock before you enter?”
“Gross!”
Dan laughs and closes the door, and then immediately seems to deflate. He crashes onto the seat across from Phil and blows out an explosive sigh.
Phil twitches his face at him but keeps his eyes scrolling through their pizza options. It’s definitely pizza tonight.
“Got one here looks decent.”
“What you reckon the address is?” Dan has his computer open but is definitely not looking it up.
“Let’s see.” He taps onto Google maps, but the 4g is slow and it takes forever to load. “We’re just in a hole.”
“Your mum’s hole.”
They do simultaneous dorky shrieks without looking at each other.
The map loads and Phil copies the street name and the number of the shop they’re parked in front of. Dan is not even typing, just scrolling, hunched into an unhealthy-looking S-shape that has him more than a head shorter than Phil.
Phil picks put a pizza and chips. “Frihs.”
“Friiiihhss.”
“What dips d’you want?”
Dan holds out his hand wordlessly, still looking at his own screen. Phil passes the phone over, and it takes Dan several seconds of just holding it before he looks at it. He holds the phone close to his face while he taps through the options and then hands it back with all the dips selected.
“Wot? You want all of them?”
“Shut up.” Dan leans back, looking at Phil from under his lashes. He looks so small and tired.
Phil taps to order and writes a quick note (“Hi we are on the black tour bus parked along the street :) Thank you!”) then drops his phone on the table and looks back at Dan. “You alright?”
Dan shrugs infinitesimally. “Tired. You?”
“Tired and hungry.”
“Ooh, two on the dwarf scale.” Eye roll.
“Just provided food for you!”
“Not being mean.” He pouts and reaches out an arm but lets it flop back when he can’t reach Phil.
Phil huffs a smile and lets his eyes rest on Dan. “Guess this is date night.”
At home Dan has them on a strict date night-schedule of once a week with bonus rotating double-date weekends with Martyn and Cornelia, but on tour it’s not always feasible, especially because it’s often impossible to even keep track of what day of the week it is, let alone get time alone together.
Dan twists his face. “Great. So romantic. I bet I look so fuck-able.”
It’s true that at home Dan always makes an effort on those nights. Always showers and shaves and fixes his hair and wears something he knows Phil likes (no potato sack sweaters on date night), and Phil really appreciates it. He understands that it’s important to go that extra mile sometimes. That they need to make up for all the time they let each other be gross, unshaven, third-day pajama-wearing messes.
“Always wanna fuck you.”
Dan snorts. “Alright, calm down. Know you’re a horny fucker.”
“For you,” Phil says but it’s swallowed in a yawn that takes him entirely by surprise.
Dan laughs one of his sharp, mean laughs. “Alright, old man.”
“Shut up.” Phil kicks in the general direction of him but only hits air. Then Dan moves his legs to snake around one of Phil’s calfs and squeezes lightly. Phil wordlessly accepts the apology and feels the need to make a point. “S’nice when you make it nice. But just wanna be with you.” He suddenly feels the quiet of the bus around them. “Nice to be alone.”
It’s Dan’s turn to say “Shut up,” but he says it in a deep, quiet, mushy voice.
They let their eyes rest on each other. Dan’s face is slack and he hardly even looks beautiful like this, but Phil still feels affection expand darkly in his chest.
“Love you, babe,” he mumbles.
“Love you, rat.” Dan smiles crookedly.
There’s a loud knock on the bus door that makes them both jolt and then laugh. Dan gets up to open the door, putting on a smile and an animated voice while he exchanges food and a generous tip with the delivery person.
Phil manages to remove the computer and phone just before Dan dumps the food on the table.
“Yasss, get in my mouth,” Dan crows as he unpacks it all.
Phil has to laugh at the ridiculous line-up of condiments. He’s holding his phone before he’s even really thought about it. They’ve been using insta stories so much it’s becoming second nature to notice when something is instagram-worthy. “Can I show them?” he says and points the camera at Dan.
“What? You wanna bring them on date night now?” Dan’s eyes are dark and he is looking at Phil quietly.
“Not proper date night,” Phil smiles. “Just tour bus date night.”
“I look like shit.”
“You look fine.”
Dan hesitates for one more moment. “Alright.”
The transformation is small this time, nothing as radical as entering the stage or stepping out into the meet-and-greet area, but suddenly Phil’s Dan is gone, and the Dan across the table from him is their Dan, coiled tightly and ready to jump at any joke. Phil feels himself transform in turn, his voice rising in volume and pitch. It’s over quickly, though, and then Dan holds out his hand again for the phone.
“Wanna see.”
Phil watches him as the short video loops around a couple of times. His face is quiet and expressionless again.
Dan hands the phone back and lets Phil watch it a couple of times as well. Phil checks the background, the table, Dan’s clothes and face out of habit - scouring for anything they might regret sharing. He can’t see anything incriminating, so he looks up at Dan.
“Should I post it?”
Dan shrugs, in the middle of tearing the lid off the pizza box. “Yeah, might as well.”
Phil taps the button and puts the phone away.
They eat in near silence. Their legs are tangled under the small table, and they don’t really look at each other. Occasionally one of them will make a particularly disgusting mouth sound and they’ll huff or grimace together in acknowledgement.
“Should we do a mukbang?” Phil says. He’s been thinking about it, thinking about how insta stories are intimate and how the audience has been responding and how to take some of that back onto YouTube.
Dan looks up and snorts. “He says with ketchup all over his face. Got some on your chin there, babe.”
Phil wipes with the back of his hand. “Just think it could be cool.” He’s not really invested in this line of conversation right now. It’s not even appropriate for date night, but here on tour the lines are more fluid. They’ve brushed up on the topic before, and they’ll pass back around it many more times before finding out if they should sit down and actually try to hash out how they would do it.
Dan snorts again and groans and then heaves himself forward to wipe at Phil’s face. He shows him the considerable dollop of sauce on his finger before putting it in his mouth and licking it clean.
“Disgusting,” Phil says with absolutely no heat or surprise.
“Filthy,” Dan agrees.
They finish their meal and collect the trash, which Phil takes out onto the street and crams in a public bin. When he comes back inside Dan has moved to one of the sofa sections with his laptop, quiet music playing softly from the tinny speakers.
Phil takes his phone and goes to join him. As soon as he’s sat down, Dan’s body seems to liquify and he slithers down to rest his head on Phil’s thigh. Phil rests his hand in Dan’s hair and checks the time. A little under an hour before they can expect the crew back and they’re driving through the night.
“Sorry, am I being a shit date?” Dan asks as he stares at his laptop screen.
Phil shakes his head. “Nah, you’re fine. Let’s just relax until everyone comes back.”
Dan reaches up and takes Phil’s hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it. Phil lets him, then pulls their joint hands up and kisses Dan’s in return.