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Lockdown means a lot of things, namely one of them being trying new things. And that is exactly what Phil decides to do. He’s already cut his own hair, at the urgent and loud protest of Dan to not even attempt it. He did it anyway. It isn’t perfect and his hairdresser is definitely going to have a go at him once quarantine is over and he can have access to a proper haircut, but it made a good video, so he isn’t too mad.
One thing, however, that Phil has never done is paint his nails. He’s watched Dan paint his own time and time again and he knows there’s nothing wrong with it. He’s told Dan that time and time again. But he knows he is still holding onto some level of toxic masculinity even though he tells himself and he knows all too well that nail polish and make up in general isn’t just for women. Again, he’s told Dan that enough to know it himself.
Phil remembers the first time that Dan wanted to paint his nails back in 2009 when they first met. He actually heard Dan discuss it over Skype beforehand and he remembers being exasperated and a little frustrated that whilst Dan continued saying that he wanted to paint his nails, he refused when Phil told him to just do it.
”I want to paint my nails at some point.”
“Then do it?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s so much more than just painting your nails, Phil.”
At the time, Phil didn’t understand but suddenly now, he has such a deeper understanding of why it is so much more than simply painting your nails. He isn’t sure why it’s such a difficult issue for him. Why does it even matter if he has nails painted bright yellow or dark green? Why did that even matter? He knows, for some reason, that it does though.
It’s when he’s sat in the living room, with his legs dangling over the armrest on one end and his head resting on the other, that he realises he wants to change that attitude he has. He looks up and sees Dan on the other side of the lounge, sitting on the chair next to his piano, where he does his live shows and spends far too much time frowning at the keys in front of him.
Phil goes to open his mouth but stops himself, giving himself an opportunity to properly look at his boyfriend. He’s wearing his comfy Game of Thrones pyjamas and a loose oversized white shirt that Phil is sure he’s been wearing for a good few days now, but he looks beautiful. Phil can tell that Dan hasn’t washed his hair in a few days, but it looks as soft as ever. It’s a warm summers day so there’s a small amount of sweat gleaming on Dan’s cheekbones that Phil cannot help but stare at for a moment.
“Dan,” Phil eventually calls out.
Dan doesn’t turn around or give any insight that he is listening or in fact heard Phil other than a small hum.
“Can you paint my nails?”
With this, Dan spins around on his chair. It isn’t a chair meant for spinning so the chair doesn’t actually move at all, it’s all Dan and his body sliding in a one hundred and eighty degree motion to stare at Phil now, intently but with a bound of fondness across his face.
“Really?” Phil can hear the uncertainty in his voice, equal parts excited and nervous coming through.
“Yup.”
“Okay,” Dan says softly, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he stands up. “Lemme go get my supplies.”
“Okay.”
Phil already feels a small amount of anxiety flooding his stomach, like the fires of Pompeii exploding in the bottom of his tummy creating a horrible sensation throughout his throat. Like this is the worst thing imaginable for him to do. He knows it isn’t and he knows if he is uncomfortable, he can tell Dan to stop at any point and they can get rid of it.
The thing is, he’s always had to be brave. He’s always had to be that person who showed Dan that everything is okay and whatever Dan wanted to do with his body and his life were okay. He always had to be that person that let Dan know he was valid as a queer man. But as much as every person in the LGBTQ+ community knows, you can say those things to someone else but that doesn’t mean you believe them for yourself. You can say that being gay is okay and praise fellow gays for being loud and proud but you can experience the most intense internalised homophobia. You can preach the message that labels aren’t necessary but stress in your room alone because you can't find a label that fits you perfectly.
And he’s never addressed his own nerves around make up and masculinity. He’s never seen an issue with it himself on others, but himself is a no go. He would love to be that person who can post a selfie wearing a little bit of highlighter to make his cheekbones pop, but that’s something he just has to work on.
Dan knows this and has never pushed it, maybe that’s why Phil doesn’t hear Dan return, because he’s treading carefully and not making too much of a racket so Phil is startled. He doesn’t even hear him come back up the stairs which is odd because usually, Dan wants to make himself known.
Phil smiles brightly at Dan as he returns around the corner and through the living room door, hands full of a different assortment of bits and pieces that Phil doesn’t really know the name of and what they actually do. He watches with his bottom lip in between his set of teeth as Dan places the small glasses of nail polish in front of them. One of them was a plain black, typical Dan, a colour he sees on Dan’s nails quite often.
Another is a bright yellow, that Phil remembers being used for the Hello Yellow movement in 2017 for World Mental Health Day – memories flooding his mind of how horrific that went, because Dan had asked Phil to paint his nails and Phil was simply not good at it.
Dan places a few more on the coffee table in front of them but one stands out in particular, the clear glitter nail polish that Dan uses probably more often than the matte black one. Phil already knows that’s the one he wants Dan to paint his nails with.
“Okay, so which one do you want?” Phil almost hates how soft and delicate Dan is speaking right now, like Phil will break into a million and one pieces if Dan’s voice raises above a specific decibel. Phil knows he means well, because he recognises his tactic from his own back, whenever Dan is a little anxious around breaking the social norms of what defines a man and a woman and trying something new. So, he will let it slide.
“I think the glittery one?”
“Don’t phrase it like a question, Phil. Whichever you want.”
“Okay,” Phil breathes for a second. He phrased it like a question so he could cop out if he wanted to. Secretly hoping Dan would say no and Phil could back out. “I would like the glittery one, please.”
“Of course,” Dan smiles, reaching out to take his jaw in the palm of his hand and stroking his finger gently over Phil’s cheek for a second before dropping it and turning back to the nail polish.
Dan makes quick work of preparing everything, not that much is needed to be prepared to paint someone’s nails. As much as Phil thinks anyway.
Dan places a pack of cotton wool balls on the side, along with what Phil reads as nail polish remover. Phil tilts his head in question when Dan looks at him briefly.
“Just in case I make a mistake,” Dan offers, chuckling as he grabs the small bottle of glittery nail polish and places it closer to the side he can easily reach.
“I trust that you won't make a mistake,” Phil offers as a response.
“At least one of us does.”
Dan laughs and Phil decides to not respond. He has all the faith in the world that Dan will do a good job, definitely miles better than the time Phil attempted to paint Dan’s nails yellow.
“Okay turn around for me and hands on my knees please,” Dan says, almost like a demand but Phil knows it isn’t so he follows the instructions. Phil spins around in his place so that he can face Dan properly. Dan’s knees feel scorching hot underneath the palm of his hands.
“I’ll do a couple and you can tell me how you like them before I continue?”
“I’d prefer if you just did them all so I couldn’t back out,” Phil chuckles. He tries to make it out to be a joke but he sees the way Dan looks at him, tilting his head and smiling softly.
“Phil, you don’t have anything to prove you know?”
“Huh? I kn-“
“You don’t have to paint your nails to be a valid gay or whatever,” Dan says as if it’s the easiest thing for him to say. The bad thing about this is Phil knows he’s true, but he can’t quite accept it in his brain. “I know you see a lot of fellow gays on the internet defying social norms and wearing make up and it doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want that. You are still a good ally for the gays who do and that’s all that matters.”
Phil knows he is right.
“I do want it, just nervous.”
“Okay, do you want me to continue?” Dan offers softly, so soft that Phil knows he already knows the answer to his question but is waiting for the definite response from Phil himself.
“Please.”
So Dan does. He unscrews the lid off of the nail polish and carefully strokes the brush from the cuticle of Phil’s thumb nail to the tip, gently and meticulously in order to not miss any area of the nail. Dan and Phil both know that with a clear nail polish it’s fine to leave a small area unpainted because you can’t really tell, but at the same time, Dan always puts one hundred and ten per cent effort and energy into his work so it’s not surprising. Even with a nail polish colour that can make room for mistakes.
Dan stops for a minute, allowing Phil to get the message that he can lift his thumb to get a better look if he wants to, but Phil doesn’t move his hand. As he said a few moments ago, he doesn’t want an opportunity for his anxiety to force him to back out.
Dan waits a few seconds before moving onto the second nail, applying the same amount of love and gentleness as the first.
Phil zones out after that. He can feel Dan moving onto the next nail and the nail after that, but he is no longer paying attention. It isn’t so bad, he thinks to himself, and if anything it’s incredibly calming.
“Why did you decide to paint your nails?”
“You mean why did I decide to force you to paint them?”
“No, no force involved, but yes,” Dan chuckles, and Phil looks at him for the first time since he started. He has a gentle smile across his face and his tongue is poking out between his lips. He imagines this is what he looked like when he painted Dan’s nails and he’s grateful for it. It normalises it.
“I thought it was time. I preach to you and all over the internet that being yourself is the key to happiness and I wanted to do this for a while but always stopped myself. So why not now?”
“There’s not a better time to try something new than in the middle of lockdown,” Dan offers, and Phil feels him move onto his other hand. He assumes he’s about halfway done but he still doesn’t dare look.
“Trust me, I am aware,” Phil laughs and they both know exactly what he’s talking about. A few days ago he decided to cut his own hair. Having watched a few fellow content creators cut/dye their own hair, he didn’t think it would be that hard. He was wrong and how he has uneven shaved sides with bald patches scattered around to prove how incorrect he was at thinking that.
He finds something calming in the sound of Dan’s small giggle in response. It’s something that he always does with Dan, uses the small noises and small gestures as a way to remove any anxiety in the situation, because if Dan is there he has nothing to be scared about.
Separating him from his own thoughts, is a cough from in front of him – clearly Dan clearing his throat to signify that he is finished with the task at hand. Phil doesn’t move his hands away from Dan’s knees but moves his head instead to get a proper look at Dan’s masterpiece.
This is the first time that Phil looks at his hands. They look… different. And not a bad different. Definitely a good different.
He doesn’t hate it, and in fact, he kind of adores it. He now knows why Dan loves painting his nails so much because it’s therapeutic, even if someone else is doing all the work for you. He also wonders whether Dan will have the same adoration for Phil’s nails being a different colour (or in Phil’s place, glittery) but he quickly covers up that thought because now is not the time.
“It’s not the most drastic maybe next time I can use a proper nail polish.”
“This is a proper nail polish, Phil.”
“Okay, a more vivid colour.”
“There’s no contest or competition.”
“Can you quit being so nice?” Phil laughs, because he is frustrated that Dan just isn’t allowing him to be salty with his inability to be enough.
“Would you allow me to say this stuff about myself?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Well then,” Dan says simply. Like it is simple. And Phil guesses it probably is. Maybe his inability to be satisfied with his gayness is deep rooted in the small amount of internalised homophobia he has left inside of him – if he isn’t outwardly defying social norms like every other day he isn’t gay enough, if he isn’t wearing the most loud nail polish they have access to he isn’t gay enough. “I’m all done.”
“You didn’t get it anywhere other than my nails,” Phil says, partially in awe of the near perfect work done on Dan’s behalf and partially in awe because his nails look beautiful.
“Duh, not all of us are a clumsy klutz.”
“Hey!” Phil goes to playfully smack Dan’s leg but Dan grabs his wrists to stop him. Dan’s voice is far too loud for the intimate setting they are in at the moment.
“Phil don’t ruin them now!”
“Sorry,” Phil blushes.
“No need to apologise, but keep still.”
“You’re telling me, a hyperactive person to keep still.”
“And you better bloody do it,” Dan says with the little amount of authority he has in his being, making Phil laugh softly.
He watches as Dan packs up the nail polish in front of them, leaving the glittery one out specifically.
“Why have you left that one out?”
“You think I’m going to let you have cute ass nails on your own?” Dan gasps, placing his hand on his heart in a feigned shock. And in that moment, Phil isn’t sure what he was ever worried about.