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The warm spring air swirled across the damp pavement, a light breeze carrying the longing for the summer and the wanting from winter.
London stood ablaze, though not literally, in the dim light of dusk. The red lanterns and the lit candles in the small restaurant reflected in the puddles outside it, spreading real fiery glow across the street.
Dan glanced down at the clock on his arm. Phil was meant to arrive in less than ten minutes, and his stomach was doing its signature flip at the thought of seeing his boyfriend in a suit.
It had been a last minute decision, but he had still been able to book the two of them a table at the fancy restaurant, in time for the fifth anniversary of their Japan engagement. It’d be their last date/trip on this day as their wedding was only a couple of weeks away.
Another table to his right got served as he pondered and their dishes smelled exceptionally good. One plate, covered in vegetables topped with a small rectangle of red meat and some gravy, oozed with homely, spicy fumes.
His mouth watered at the very inkling of putting it in him..he thought about letting the sauce flow through his veins.. that slick piece of braised muscle sliding down his esophagus, filling all of him up-
don’t be crude, jeez Dan! Phil hasn’t even shown up yet and you’re horny for food?!
He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and then glanced back down at the wristwatch, which gleamed rosé gold in the shine of the red lights.
The waiter assigned to his table came walking up again, giving him a questioning nod. Dan knew they were a busy, overbooked restaurant, and if Phil didn’t arrive in the seven minutes he was meant to, they’d kick him out and book someone else to it. He told the waiter as much as he knew: his date was meant to be walking through the door in seven minutes, and that they needn’t worry, as he was never late.
Dan decided to admire the decor, both to relieve the tension in his shaking, straining hands, and to pass the time.
The tables, all fifteen of them on this floor, where made of oak and had two wine red leather seats assigned to each. It was almost as if the colour was picked so the half-drunk guests wouldn’t stain the expensive, irreparable furniture.
The floor itself was some grey stone tile, with no ‘cheap’ lining, but rather some mysterious bronze clay Dan had never seen the likes of before. Not unless you counted those equally mysterious and expensive skybars Phil booked them in all the time.
That brought Dan some more nostalgia, and some more nerves. He had really always known he’d sit here with an engagement anniversary and a marriage on his hands, ever since they met. And at the same time it all sprang upon him so fast, like a thief in the night leaving before he woke up.
And that was the lovely part about it all, wasn’t it. How their love had persisted through the years and eventually good things came from it, before they even knew they were coming.
Dan glanced back around the room once more, giving it a thorough sweep with his eyes. The candles were red, the decor up and down the walls red and dark, more gloomy than bright. In front of him a single candle stood atop the dark oak, next to a bowl of breadsticks.
One lonely waitress stood by the bar, dressed in pitchblack clothes and wearing a crimson sash, and scrubbed the life out of a crystal glass that probably cost more than Phil’s annual youtube paycheck. And that meant a lot of money.
His phone chimed a few seconds later, a clear and loud sound, pulling him out of his spiralling thoughts. He had been tiptoeing around having Phil- well, doing things to him on that well-polished counter.
Dan cleared his throat loudly and washed the embarrassment down with a gulp of wine, before picking the device up from the table.
It was a message from Phil, saying he was approaching the restaurant. What a relief!
He called for their waiter, who re-filled their glasses with some excellent champagne.. at least Dan assumed it was luxurious and excellent , from the pricetag to the way the glass shimmered.
Not many seconds later did the bell at the door chime, too, and a gust of wind travelled all the way to him, rustling his suit jacket like he was a leaf in a wild autumn storm. Glancing over to the entranceway, he caught the blue and greenish yellow eyes of his gorgeous husband-to-be, his fianceé.
Phil smiled when he saw him, a grin splitting his face ear to ear. The warmth in it pulls Dan in, like he’s a moth and Phil’s a dancing flame.
He was wearing a red and black suit in matt floral patterns, to contrast Dan’s turquoise velvet. It hugged his hips and his shoulders like no other could, except maybe Dan’s arms. He takes credit for that, himself.
Phil placed a small peck on his cheek, smirking wildly and fondly. “Looking fashionable, Howell..” he murmured, affection hot on his tongue, as they sat down in the soft leather chairs.
Dan smirked back, mischief dancing in his irises. “Now for much longer.”
“Are you talking about our engagement or are you just trying to get, um, naked and in my pants?” Phil asked, his eyebrows furrowed but that smirk ever present. Dan simply waggled his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat, making Phil groan at their shared idiocy.
“God, we’re so stupid..”
“I know, Phil. Stupid and in love. That’s just us. ”
“And that’s the only reason you’re marrying me, isn’t it? Our shared stupidity?” Phil pondered rather unseriously, picking up a piece of breadstick and breaking it in half. He passed one piece over the table, giving his Fianceé another kiss as he handed the crumbling piece to him.
“Cheers to that.” Dan laughed, and they did. At their idiocy, and for their love, and for another ten long years, and even more. This time, married.