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“I’m sorry they brought it up.”
Bright lights light up the dark blue city as it swishes by. They’re snuggled up in the back seat of the taxi, not a single seat apart, on the way back to their hotel from the Fine Brothers’ studio.
Their shoulders bump together as the driver swings them around another corner, into a bustling street. It sends an electric shock down his spine.
Phil watches the masses move, as well as the empty and darkened streets, and the sparkles flying across the orangey but dark sky. A certain silence and emptiness fills him as he gazes, thinking of worlds far away, feelings blossoming beyond just the annoyance and the sadness that has crept up on him all day.
Here they can be almost as close as they want, away from judging gazes and even hotel staff with prying eyes. The only thing that beats it is home. It feels warmer in his chest, now, thinking about it. The bitterness fades a little.
“I’m sorry.” Dan repeats again, and he gives Phil’s hand a comforting squeeze. There’s real hurt and a want for forgiveness in his voice, even if Phil has told him a million times and more it’s not his fault. It never was.
“Don’t-” he tries, but he loses his voice. There is no way for him to clearly formulate himself.
“I’m sorry they asked such bold questions when they clearly knew they shouldn’t have,” Dan says, again, and then again.
They turn to face one another, and Phil gazes silently into his honey and chocolate eyes. The warmth within them gives him more comfort than just listening to how broken Dan’s voice is.
He hates how broken he sounds whenever the video is brought up. Even the implications of it.
The car jostles as they turn another corner. They don’t break eye contact, and in the new light Phil can clearly see the crystal droplets brimming his eyes. He reaches out a hand and wipes the once which have escaped away. Dan’s as vulnerable as he is.
“If I had known we’d watch a video with implications like that I’d have turned their offer down.”
“I know.”
Phil smiles softly, and shakes his head before resting it on his shoulder. Dan lets out a content breath, and lets his hand nip at the black hair in the back of his neck. The world still flies by outside, and he averts his gaze so he’s looking at the back of the seat when he speaks up.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know-”
“And it isn’t Aicha’s either…” Phil mumbles, interrupting him, Dan’s warm shoulder digging into his cheek as he moves his mouth softly.
Dan adjusts his arm, so he falls onto his chest, in a not much more comfortable position, but still one without sharp edges poking him.
“Do you want to.. talk?”
Phil sighs. No he doesn’t, and he knows Dan doesn’t either, by the way the bird in his throat sings. Still, he knows they’ll have to, at some point.
“I don’t think we’re feeling up to it. Not now, at least.” he says, quietly.
He can feel Dan nodding along, and he hears his heartbeat, loud and choppy. It’s hard on the ears but at the same time a small reminder they’re always there for one another.
As the world passes outside the car begins to roll to a stop. They’re not yet at their destination, but the crossing they’ve reached has red shining before it. The sun has now set fully, and the only thing making the clouds above the city less dark are the lights pounding and pulsating from the skyscrapers within it.
A beautiful pink hue pulls itself across the sky, dancing like a bar among the thousands of glittering stars. It reminds Phil of Dan’s sunlit, freckled skin, and he lets his eyes fall closed as he thinks of his hands grazing them.
The tips of his fingers tingle when he thinks of the sensation.
Dan’s fingers play with Phil’s fringe for a while more, their chests synched as they rise and fall. When the car jumps to a loud start again, he leans down and places a wet kiss on Phil’s temple, tickling him.
He sighs as he sits back up again, a while later, but this time there is a poorly veiled giggle creeping beneath the surface. He leans his face real close to Dan, nearly resting it on his cheek.
Phil’s whispering when he lets the words roll of his tongue. “I love you..”
A nice, warm grin melts through Dan’s features when they reach his ear. He shakes his head in disbelief, but then leans his own head in, turning their faces so their foreheads touch. He gives him a longer kiss, a smoother, purely loving one.
“I love you too.” he says, even if the phrase flows through his actions anyways. It makes Phil smile wildly, and he returns the kiss with a small peck to the left dimple, which sends soft giggles and visuals of blushing cheeks ricocheting in the small space.
They lay back on each other afterwards, and while Phil still watches the cars and people pass by the window, he snuggles up real tight in Dan’s embrace again. It’s nice, and it’s warm.
Dan’s nice, and he’s warm.
He doesn’t regret today, even if it stung a bit previously. Any day with Dan can be made as nice as sunlit, clear teal water on a bright beach in Florida always is.
This one, too.
It now is.