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It was a Saturday afternoon and Dan was sprawled out on their big sunbed, placed at the outer edge of their garden. The sun had settled behind their cherry blossom tree, making the air pleasantly cooler. It was one of those rare days where their garden felt like a different country all together. The sky was a perfect blue, the sun a burning ball of fire and the temperature way closer to what you’d find in a country like Greece.
Other than their little get away for some ‘rat and relaxation time’ a few weeks back, they’d had little opportunity to actually enjoy the summer thus far. Between tour planning, their usual workload and well, Phil kind of almost dying, the weeks had flown past in a bit of a haze. But today was a Saturday, and frankly it was way too warm to be doing anything other than this. Half-comatose, sprawled out in the sun, mind perfectly empty and content.
Dan was patiently awaiting Phil’s return outside with the promise of an ice cold oat milk caramel iced latte, lovingly crafted by Phil. In truth, Dan had named himself the barista of the household and was usually the one to make them these fancy drinks with hearts and swans and all that crafted in the foam, but he was just so damn comfortable right here on the sunbed. And Phil had offered so sweetly, and how could you ever refuse him anything? Especially when it’s so warm and you’re so comfortable and this pretty boy wants to make you your favorite drink. Dan was really living the dream.
And here he came, cautiously strolling through their garden with both coffees in hand, trying not to trip on his face and ruin all his hard work. He successfully made his way to Dan and handed him his fancy big glass, which he’d decorated with caramel sauce around the edges. Phil’s face was lit up like a child showing their parent a piece of art they’d made in kindergarten and was especially proud of, now expecting high praise and a spot on the refrigerator door for all eternity. Dan smiled up at his little three year old, feeling nothing but love and gratitude for this goofy, loving guy that somehow put up with his existential, pessimistic self.
He took a sip of his coffee, while Phil looked expectantly at him. Immediately, it seemed to revive him from his half-comatose state with its perfect icy cold temperature, exactly what he needed in this heat. It was quite a bit sweeter than he’d make for himself though, definitely more of a Phil drink, but it was really really good, he couldn’t deny it. He took another big gulp before giving Phil the feedback he was desperately awaiting.
“God Phil, that’s a professional tasting coffee. I think you’ve missed your calling bub, you should quit your job right now and just become a barista instead.”
“Ah, maybe I will, then we can live out one of those coffee shop fanfics we’ve seen around so much.”
Dan chortled back at him, always finding Phil so effortlessly funny. He held Phil’s coffee for him as he crawled onto the sunbed, getting situated with the pillows. He took a sip of Phil’s drink, the same one just with vanilla flavoring, and found it was somehow even sweeter than his. Phil really was a three year old at heart in more ways than one, but Dan was quite fond of that fact really.
He handed him back his drink as Phil finished arranging his pillows, his body now glued to Dan’s despite there being quite a bit of space to stretch out on his other side. Phil took a big gulp of his absolute sugar bomb of a vanilla iced latte and thought it was completely perfect.
His eyes fixed onto Dan. The warm summer breeze had ruffled his hair and his sunkissed cheeks were decked in freckles. Dan gently closed his eyes as he sipped at his coffee, a content smile warming his face. The air around them smelled of sunscreen, flowers and freshly cut grass- all thanks to their robotic lawn mower, neither of them were particularly inclined to ever mow the lawn themselves.
Phil placed the hand that wasn’t busy holding his coffee, on the warm surface of Dan’s thigh. He was wearing a pair of short shorts (not exactly the booty shorts Phil had bought him, but close enough) and a loose fitting white tank top. Phil wore a pair of gray shorts, his WAD hat (it’s surgically attached to him at this point) and one of his favorite t-shirts, but he was finding it a bit too warm. Had they been in Greece for real, as the temperature was imitating, he’d definitely not be wearing a shirt.
Remembering this was the comfort of their own garden- cause they actually owned a garden these days, out of view of any neighbors or strangers and completely and privately theirs- he handed Dan his coffee once more and pulled the t-shirt off. Dan’s eyes followed the action, smirking, but then muttered “good idea”. He handed Phil both their coffees to hold, (they really should just get a table out here) and pulled off his tank top.
Once their coffees were finished and placed somewhere on the lawn for the ants to feast on, they sank further down on the sunbed, into each other’s arms. Their feet dangled off the edge of the bed, grass between their toes. Phil wrapped his arm around Dan, inching his way closer. He lay his head against the warm skin of Dan’s chest, leaving a kiss against his collarbone. Dan ran his fingers through soft blonde strands of hair, his other hand tracing circles down Phil’s arm.
It was perfectly quiet but for the soft rustle of leaves, the summer breeze rushing through the trees surrounding them. A nearby bird serenaded their perfect moment, sitting atop the tallest tree in the garden. There was no need for words, just two warm bodies breathing in sync, perfectly at ease with one another.
They didn’t need another holiday or a fancy hotel, they didn’t need to travel anywhere to replicate a perfect moment such as this. They simply needed a few ingredients; the two of them, alone, with enough time to just be.
How lucky it was that pure bliss was to just be with your person. Warm skin pressed against each other on a sunbed, a special spot in your beloved garden. How lucky it was that even 15 years in, the only person that brought you this amount of peace, was the same person whom you shared your whole life with.
Phil shifted his head to look up at Dan. His eyes were closed, dark lashes lay gently against his freckled cheeks. After some time he suddenly opened them, sensing Phil’s eyes on him, and saw Phil’s cheeks flush pink from being caught staring.
“Thought you’d fallen asleep” Phil said, a shy smile on his half-hidden face.
“And you couldn’t help but stare at my beautiful face now, could you?” Dan smirked at him.
He loved the way Phil got so shy making any indication to the fact that he liked Dan, despite them being literally 15 years into dating. They were quite past the point of trying to hide their crushes on each other, but it was fun to see Phil still act like that lovestruck 22 year old.
“Yeah, well you see, it was right there in my line of vision. And as you said, it’s a very beautiful face. Quite difficult not to stare…” Phil stammered, burying his face in his hands. Dan giggled at his flustered partner, pulling Phil’s hands off of his face, interlocking the fingers with his own.
“Stare as much as you’d like, bub.”
Phil gave him the intense no-blinking-blue-eyed-stare. His face was all eyes, big and blue and so close to Dan’s face, it fully creeped him out. It sent Dan into another fit of giggles, and he pushed Phil’s face half-heartedly away from him.
“Okay, okay, that might be a bit much, I take it back.”
Phil chuckled, his tongue sticking out in that very Phil-like manner. He softened his intense eye contact, fixing Dan with a gaze that was so fond, it was now Dan’s turn to blush. He didn’t look away though, but returned the same soft expression through his brown eyes. Phil placed a hand to Dan’s cheek, tracing a thumb over his favorite pair of freckles. He could never get sick of this view.
He craned his neck to reach Dan as he leaned in, lips meeting in a soft embrace. He tasted the coffee from earlier, with a sweet aftertaste of caramel. When their lips parted, smiling, Phil’s head returned to lay on Dan’s chest. Their hands danced lightly over exposed skin, tracing circles on arms, chest and backs.
In a place that was so perfectly their own, they could stay like this for hours on end and never get bored of each other. No amount of time together was ever enough to satisfy the craving. A constant want for the other’s presence; their body, their laugh, the feeling they gave them.
A constant want with a constant solution; time spent exactly like this, drinking in each other’s bodies. Wanting nothing more than what the other gave you, needing nothing more than what the two of you already have.
How lucky it was, really. How lucky they were.