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Dan had packed one of Phil’s shirts in his suitcase by accident, except it wasn’t an accident. He’d also left one of his own behind. That actually was an accident. But that kind of accident is more like a subconscious assertion, a reason to return, a tether that could drag him back there.
He didn’t unpack for days. Eventually, he dumped his case on the carpet in search of clean pants and found Phil’s shirt. He wore it the rest of the day and when his parents were finally asleep, he locked his bedroom door and pulled up Skype on his laptop.
You should keep it. It looks better on you.
Nah, It’s yours, it suits you.
You’re right, it’s mine, take it off.
Dan didn’t take it off, he just rucked up the hem and bit his lip. He pulled the collar up over his nose to take in the scent of the man on the screen and marveled in the effect he had on someone he’d wanted for what seemed like so long.
Hours later, the screen was dark, the house eerily quiet. Interrupted by Fireworks played on a loop on his phone and he curled up in bed for a cry. It was all so adolescent and cliche but he was still technically an adolescent so the judgement playing in his head could just fuck right off.
He texted Phil three times during the night knowing full well he wouldn’t get a response till morning. Eventually, he fell asleep with dried tears on his cheeks, making plans in his head for the next time he’d get to be with Phil, real Phil, so fucking real.
**********
Phil ended the call first because he really did have to get some sleep. There were clothes all over his floor but Dan’s shirt was tucked under his pillow. He held it in his arms, tight to his chest, bunched up under his nose. He breathed in the scent of the captivating boy who stole his heart away before he’d known what hit him. Cheap cologne and men’s body wash blended with a certain scent that made no sense. Because somehow, Dan always smelled like the beach, or maybe he just smelled Iike beauty and freedom and wild, crashing waves that Phil couldn’t keep his head above. After Dan left, it was like Phil had been in the sun too long. His muscles ached and his eyes burned but he was all soft and warm and sleepy too, content. Phil knew it wouldn’t be all that long, they were already making plans. So he inhaled, deep as he could, until the next time he’d get to see Dan, the real Dan, impossibly real.