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“Do you ever think about what your life would be like without me?”
The question comes from out of nowhere, or at least that’s how it appears to Phil. He can usually sense these things coming, has watched Dan get quieter and quieter over the course of a week or two, has taken note of Dan being even more preoccupied by his phone or his laptop. Sleeping in later, a little less enthusiastic about dinners ordered in. It’s a formula Phil has become so familiar with over the last fifteen years, and he’s gotten better at counterbalancing an imminent breakdown.
Not this time though.
Things have been good lately, really good. When they were younger, when nearly every aspect of their relationship was a total secret, they had moments. Behind closed doors, under covers, in middle-of-the-night inky darkness, they found moments of complete bliss. All pretense fell away, every bit of armor they wore for the outside world gone. Stripped bare, both literally and figuratively. In these moments it felt less like two people sharing a space and more like one person split only a little. Separate organs in one body. Liver and pancreas, Dan and Phil.
And then doors would open, duvets would be drawn back, the sun would rise. The moment would end and they’d return to their regular life. Still happy enough, still content, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Slowly over the last five years the golden moments have not only grown in frequency, but they’ve gotten lighter too. Cracked doors, giggles in between sheet changes, love at dawn and dusk. The scales have tipped the other way, anxiety over being caught feeling more foreign with each passing day, while joy has become a given.
So Dan’s question is out of the goddamn blue.
It doesn’t shake him the way it used to, though. In the past there would be fear, a near certainty that a question like this meant Dan was pulling away, folding in on himself and disappearing to places Phil couldn’t reach. All he could do was peer into the darkness and wait for Dan’s return, hands wringing the entire time. This doesn’t feel quite like that. Today, he is confident in his ability to hold onto Dan through it all. It helps that Dan has asked with his head in Phil’s lap, that his eyes are half-lidded and sleepy, with none of the frantic intensity that used to accompany questions like this.
He rakes his fingers through Dan’s hair, careful not to catch his ring on any strands. It’s a plain silver thing, so there shouldn’t be much danger, but he’s still not used to wearing it. “Define without you, ” he says, thinking very specifically about the rings on their fingers. “Are you planning to divorce me?”
Dan turns his head enough so their eyes meet, and his gaze is so warm, so full of love it makes Phil’s breath catch a little. Despite it all, this still feels like a miracle. “I mean if we’d never met. Do you ever wonder if you’d be the same Phil even if you’d never met me?”
He considers it. There’s two questions there, all wrapped up in Dan’s casual sleepy tone. One, does Phil wonder? It’s easy enough to say no, he does not wonder about any version of his life that doesn’t include Dan. The concept itself seems impossible. Why would he ever sit around pondering the impossible?
But that doesn’t matter, really, because it’s not the question Dan actually wants an answer to. Would he be the same Phil without Dan?
Again, the easy answer is no. They’ve grown so much together. They’ve molded one another. Their lives are so enmeshed they’d have to involve the government in order to pull them apart.. So many of Phil’s experiences only exist with Dan at his side. To tell a history of Phil is impossible without sharing Dan’s too.
Nevertheless, he tries to picture it.
Continuing YouTube, gaining fame but less speculation. Still closeting himself, but with a little less vigilance. He might have still ended up on the radio, might have even lasted longer, but with far less enthusiasm. Growing restless and bored as just another voice. Forcing himself to go out, meet people, chase that elusive thing called love that everyone is so desperate for. Failed dates reminiscent of the ones he went on at university. Maybe he would have met someone else, maybe there would be light and maybe he would almost relax and maybe there’d still be a ring on his finger. Maybe there’d be a house. He’s certain there would have been no debates about carpet, though. And it wouldn’t be this house, because even if his input was exactly the same, he wouldn’t have his other half to complete it. Maybe it wouldn’t matter, because maybe he wouldn’t know what he was missing.
Maybe maybe maybe, but maybe’s are bullshit. They don’t count for anything. And even if they did, none of them stack up to his reality. The man with his head in Phil’s lap, eyelids fluttering despite the weight of the conversation. His roommate. The love of his life. His partner. The person he spends the majority of his time with. His husband. If souls are real, theirs are not made of the same element, but they are hydrogen and oxygen. So intertwined they’ve created something new entirely, something vital for survival. Separated with great difficulty, but impossible to rid the world of completely.
“I don’t know,” he says finally, which is not at all an answer to the question posed. “I don’t like to think about not having you in my life.” That’s the truth. He might be able to picture an alternate life, but it lacks the sunshine of his life with Dan. Beige versus brilliant gold.
“So don’t,” Dan says, the words barely coming out from around a yawn.
“You asked the question.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to take it seriously.” Dan’s smile is soft but full of amusement. “I thought you’d say it would be an opportunity to become Striker or something.”
“I didn’t even think about that.” He can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “That’s what I should have said.”
“Too late, Phil, you’ve shown genuine emotions. Can’t take it back now.”
“Maybe I’ll divorce you.”
“Good luck. I’m not signing shit.” He grins up at Phil. “You are stuck with me for forever.”
It might be well after two am, and the only lightsource in the room might be from the tv, and they might physically be in the darkest part of the house, but this moment feels like the sun, bright and fiery. Thinking of forever with Dan outshines every other golden moment. They are in love, and they are happy, and their life together is the most fun he can imagine.
He will never know a life without Dan, and he’s so grateful for it.