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Dan is sat on the sofa where he had been scrolling through his phone until his mind started to wander and his eyes became unfocused. Now his phone is in front of him, sure, but he’s not really looking at it. He’s thinking about yesterday’s election and trying desperately not to think about yesterday’s election, hence the scrolling… He feels like he’s in a fog. Dan hears Phil snort, sat on the sofa beside him and laughing at something he’s seen on his own phone.
“The hets are at it again,” Phil says, looking up with a wry smile.
“What now?” Dan leans over.
Phil shows him his screen— he’s got Instagram open and Anthony Padilla’s familiar face broods up at him. In Anthony’s lap is Mykie, a beauty YouTuber he remembers from various conventions over the years. The post actually consists of five very coupley photos, and there’s a lengthy caption beneath it. The photos are prime PDA examples. Arms around each other and cheek kisses, the sort of pictures cluttering both his and Phil’s phone but which they’ve never dared post for all the world to see.
Even now, when it’s an option. Even now when they could, if they wanted, they’ve held back.
Dan reads the caption. It’s rather hyperbolic, announcing that they’re dating and very much the best thing to ever happen to each other, but he wouldn’t have expected less from Anthony high on that new relationship buzz. They’ve been together for about three months, and Dan remembers perfectly well the sappy tweets he sent at that point in his relationship with Phil. Even while closeted, because he just couldn’t help himself.
There’s something about the way the caption begins that sticks out to him. It’s probably what had Phil snorting. keeping a relationship this incredible a secret for so long has been a challenge.
Yeah… poor little straight boy, not being able to post about your glamorous new girlfriend for three long months. Three long months during which, had the secret spilled, Anthony’s career and family life and sense of identity would face no actual repercussions. There just might’ve been some screaming on the internet. Dan resists the urge to eye-roll.
He laughs, looks back at Phil, and says, “It reads like a press release.”
Phil double taps, liking the post. “Can you imagine the Herculean willpower it took to keep under wraps?” he laughs.
“No, never experienced anything like that.” Dan laughs again.
“I mean, it is weird right? A post like this? Or am I being salty?”
“A little of both, maybe.”
“I don’t remember a great big post like this for Miel.” Phil sits up.
“Don’t compare them,” Dan says, this time rolling his eyes. “Mykie is nice.”
“Miel was nice!”
“You’re biased because you made her dog a coat. And it wasn’t even a good coat.”
“I should’ve stolen Roux when I had the chance,” Phil pouts. “We’re never in New York and that’s where she is now… the perfect dog.”
“Every dog’s the perfect dog.”
“Obviously.”
Dan leans forward and plants a kiss on the mole near Phil’s chin. Because he’s near. Because he can. “It’s good Anthony’s happy. It’s good they’re happy.”
Phil nods. “They seem really happy. The novel-length caption certainly implies they’re happy.” He grins. “What would your post about me say, babe?”
“After three months?” Dan laughs. “It’d have been worse than this, surely.”
“Today,” Phil nudges.
“Oh today, well,” he leans back against the arm of the sofa, his legs and feet in Phil’s lap. “Let’s see… first of all, it wouldn’t be Instagram. I’d call someone we know over at the BBC.”
“Makes sense,” Phil smiles, running a hand along Dan’s calf.
“They’d probably give me a fifteen minute block, so I’d plan accordingly. Visual components from the secret photos, family friendly, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I’m almost tempted to do the ‘Hello Internet’ intro, but probably wouldn’t in the end. I’d go with something like, ‘Good evening, I’m here to tell you about the light of my life, Philip Michael Lester.’”
“So formal,” Phil teases.
“If we’re doing this, we’re going all out,” Dan teases right back. Because of course they aren’t doing this. The day they break those final crumbling barriers will look innocuous. It’ll be an instastory with a cheek kiss or a hand hold. It’ll be a tweet about takeout and television with #DateNight. It’ll be a continuation of them living their lives together as they have for a decade, just with a shift in what’s shown.
But it’s fun to bant, to imagine something outrageous.
Dan continues. “I’d say, ‘You may have heard me refer to Phil as many things over the years. My real best friend, my companion through life, my actual soulmate. He’s all those things, and he’s also eaten my ass—’”
Dan can’t go any further, as Phil throws a pillow which hits him right in the face and they dissolve into giggles. They end up in a tussle, a play fight which neither of them wins but which ends with Phil halfheartedly pinned to the sofa and Dan hovering above him, out of breath and leaning down to end the fight in a kiss.
Phil brings a hand to Dan’s hair and tugs just hard enough to pull the kiss apart. “How would you wrap up?”
“Something like ‘keeping a relationship this incredible a secret for so long has been a challenge’ seems appropriate,” Dan laughs.
“Especially considering how often we didn’t manage to keep it a secret.” Phil, his grip still on Dan’s curls, pulls him back for another kiss.
Dan knows exactly what he means. There were moments where they weren’t a secret anymore because of things beyond their control— leaks and prodding and things people claimed as jokes. And then there were moments, early on and in recent years, where they didn’t bother to be secretive at all.
They just existed. They just were.
And it was a challenge in a different way, but the freedom of telling certain jokes and sitting close together and traveling together not just under the guise of work, it was them existing as a couple. Publically, even without saying so. Without yet being out, without the formal Instagram posts. They just lived their lives. And if people didn’t see it, well, heteronormativity is a hell of a drug.
Now that they are out, it feels a little scarier. A little more raw. They’ve lost their old friend, plausible deniability.
Which is why their social media presence has looked so different this year. But the year is almost over. Dan remembers the date and has a little mini crisis over the fact it’s been six months since he posted “Basically I’m Gay”. Six months since the scariest and most freeing action he’s ever taken.
Comparatively, posting sometime in the next few months something that in the past would’ve said too much and now says just what they want? Not so scary.