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The carnations smell so fresh and sweet inside of his nose. He smiles when their wavy edges tickle his cheek. Dan closes his eyes and remembers the way Phil giggled when he handed them over.
Their lives have been mostly unaffected by this pandemic, short of the hiatus on which Dan’s latest project has been placed. They miss Martyn and Cornelia, who are just across town but still inaccessible, but they have managed with group texts and the occasional zoom call. It’s family they miss the most. Dan knows that his partner has never gone so long without visiting his parents, and it makes him ache to know that Phil feels so disconnected.
“What are these for?” he smiled widely, giggling as he stepped barefoot over a mess of cords to accept the colorful bouquet Phil held in the crook of his right arm.
“No reason,” he replied with a little shrug of his shoulders. “I guess I just wanted to bring spring inside for you.” His face covering still hung from his left ear. Dan noticed the way the folded fabric gaped from use. He reached up to remove it and to kiss him.
“Thank you,” he smiled, not an inch from Phil’s lips. “I love you. They smell so good. Carnations are so underrated.” He pulled away to admire the pink, white, and yellow blooms, some full spheres and others just tight buds not yet revealing their color.
“Agreed.” Phil smiled.
They bring him new life now, as he inhales their crisp, sweet scent. He pulls back and inspects the colorful blooms, taking note that the yellow ones seem to have burst a bit larger than the rest. Phil wanted to bring the outdoors inside so they could touch spring, and he did.
Dan loves him so much.
Their routine hasn’t changed much. There are no cancelled plans, for there are no plans to cancel, and that suits Dan just fine. He too misses the company of Martyn and Cornelia, and he wouldn’t mind a trip to the Isle of Man to see the Lesters. But here they are, and here they will stay.
His project has been delayed, pushed off, set aside indefinitely. It’s been more disappointing than inconvenient, and it was Phil who comforted him when he received the dreaded news.
“Dan, I know you’re disappointed.” Phil placed his hand over his partner’s thigh as they sunk into bed beside one another. “It’s still going to happen. You know that, right?”
Dan nodded. “Yeah,” he twisted his lips before flattening them into a long, smooth line. “It means no income from me though. You’ve been keeping our boat afloat for so long now.” He giggled softly at his inadvertent rhyme and gazed downward at the grid pattern on his shorts.
Phil softly snorted and wrapped his arm around Dan. “I don’t mind; you know that. Besides, our savings is nothing to scoff at, and I most certainly did not build that by myself. You work hard, Dan; take some time off, yeah? Do some writing, take a class, keep working through that Einaudi book. I’ve got this.”
The feeling of being pulled back into Phil’s arms, coupled with his loving words of affirmation and encouragement, lifted Dan to a place of peace and acceptance. His boyfriend smelled really good and warm, just like bedtime.
“I love you,” he muttered into the wrinkled cotton of his t-shirt.
‘I love you too.”
Now, it seems that all of the days run together and time doesn’t really matter. They eat when they are hungry, sleep when they are tired, and wake when they feel so inclined. They do these things together, and they love their new rhythm, despite the general outcry of too much togetherness from the media and people they know. There’s no such thing, Phil thinks as he pours two tall glasses of Ribena and walks them to the upper lounge. Together is all he ever wanted.
He watches his boyfriend fiddle with the phone charger, the one that is supposed to stay plugged in behind the chair at all times. He grunts and whines when it falls behind the furniture. Phil thinks he looks adorable with his overgrown hair. It’s so thick between his fingers now. He knows it bothers Dan, but he can’t help but to love it.
“I’ll bet you could make a man bun in another week,” Phil jests.
“You think?” Dan replies, reaching up to cup the back of his head. He’s still not used to the mass of curls that meets his wide palm. “I don’t know if it would suit me. I’m not anywhere as cool as teen Dalien.” They both laugh.
“I don’t know,” Phil says, pondering the look on his boyfriend. “I think you could pull it off.” He sets the drinks down on the table in front of the sofa and plops down unceremoniously before patting the cushion beside him. “If you aren’t going to let me cut it, at least let me give you a proper man bun.”
Dan laughs and accepts Phil’s invitation to sit. He curls his body so that he fits nicely in the corner and brings his long legs with him. He crosses his ankles and shoves his toes under his boyfriend’s thigh. It’s not that he hasn’t considered allowing Phil to cut his hair, because he has. He’s desperate, and he can’t very well do it himself.
“Did you see that video I sent you? The one where gay couples cut each other’s hair in quarantine?” Dan snorts and begins scrolling through his phone, preparing to find it in case Phil missed it.
“I did,” he giggles. “It was so funny. We would be the like the one couple who laughed the whole time, no matter what. And you’d scream.” Phil remembers thinking how sweet it would be to have Dan cut his hair. “God, I would be so nervous. Did you see the one guy who accidentally went too short and had to shave his husband’s head in the end? That would be us. It would be like your mum trying to groom Colin. You would end up with a bald spot and I would have no choice but to sheer you like a sheep.”
They both laughed at the thought, Dan so hard that he made no sound at all.
“I don’t trust you with scissors, Babe. You’re way too clumsy. Plus, you tend to move too quickly when you’re nervous. Don’t say that you don’t, because you totally do.”
“Yeah, but you would literally stand there for hours before making your first cut and you know it. You’re way too thoughtful.” Phil poked his boyfriend’s thigh, teasing.
He was right of course. Dan would view Phil’s head from all angles and consider every approach. He would consult photographs and work tediously until it was absolutely perfect.
“I think I would get into it to be honest,” Dan smiles, leaning forward to run his fingers through Phil’s too-long hair. “And for the record, I think we would both do a good job. If we are down much longer, we might have to think seriously about it. I look like fucking Frodo, and you are looking more and more like the man I met in 2009.”
Phil laughs and pulls Dan close. “I think you look gorgeous. You have an Anthony Padilla thing going on.” He fingers at the longest curls in the front and thinks that maybe he more closely resembles Miss Benny; Dan will like that. “Actually,” he pauses and smirks, “you kind of remind me of Benny.”
Dan bites his lip. “Seriously?”
Phil feels that wonderful fluttering feeling inside. “Yeah.”
Dan flops against his chest and sighs with satisfaction, thinking that maybe he can hold out a little longer.
Quarantine has given them the freedom to live the life they prefer to live without the resounding waves of guilt that tend to come with introversion. They still order their groceries and household supplies online, and they still enjoy takeaway, though they have been tipping even more generously in the past five weeks.
Still, there are plenty of things that they miss: a walk to Starbucks, an afternoon at Kew Gardens, visiting the animals at Battersea. At least, Phil thinks, as he drags his hand up and down the long curve of Dan’s spine, they are missing these things together and not missing each other.
“What if I had been up north when this started, Dan? What if I had been barred from returning home to you and we were locked down apart?” Phil stares into the dark, empty screen of their television and begins to make out their images in the reflection.
Dan’s body stiffens. Phil can feel him hold his breath and grip him a bit tighter around the waist, driving his fingers into the tuck of the sofa on the other side of the cloud-shaped pillow.
“I honestly can’t imagine,” he all but whispers. And he really can’t. Dan closes his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the warmth of his boyfriend’s sleepy body.
“I would have found a way back to you,” Phil says almost as softly but with solid conviction.
And Dan, who knows that he would have, softens his body once more.