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Dan’s sandals echo against the wooden pier as he carries their bag and both their towels down toward the water. Phil’s just ahead of him, managing to only trip over the uneven planks once between his usual clumsiness and lack of glasses. It’s a fairly wide area and there are a couple of lounge chairs set up overlooking the sparkling turquoise water. It’s so blue in the sun his eyes can barely comprehend it. Even the clouds are picturesque over the islands in the distance.
There’s no one else outside, just a blissfully private spot for the two of them. Just a pool wouldn’t suffice in weather like this, all heat and sunshine that beckons them to dive right in.
Phil stares out over the water while Dan gently sets the bag down and gets to work placing towels out over the chairs so they can lay in the sun later.
“Should we go in sync?” Phil asks excitedly.
“What, like jump in at the same time?”
“Yeah, or we could go one at a time and give each other scores like diving judges,” he suggests.
“Has Tom Daley been flirting with you again?” Dan teases. He still remembers that tweet from nearly a decade ago, the unprompted offer of diving advice. Tom might have an Olympic medal or five, but Dan’s the only one who has Phil. Besides, Tom’s married now anyway and spends more time knitting sweaters than thinking about the two of them.
Phil just rolls his eyes and shucks his T-shirt off. “The water’s pretty clear here, I think I could do an actual dive,” he says.
“Really?” Dan reaches in his pocket for his phone as Phil analyses the water off the edge of the pier. It’s clear enough to tell that the water’s deep enough to dive in safely without hitting the bottom. Still, despite both being decent swimmers neither of them is usually keen to dive into unfamiliar water headfirst, so he’s a bit surprised that Phil’s volunteering to immediately jump in. He opens up the video to capture the moment.
Phil looks back over his shoulder and sees him filming. “Are you gonna do it?”
“Do what?”
“Give me a score when I dive.”
“Okay, sure,” Dan agrees with a chuckle.
There are moments in his life when he wonders why the hell he ended up here.
This, he thinks as Phil splashes into the sea, is not one of them.
Phil kicks a couple of times beneath the surface, propelling himself away from the pier. He pops up above the water, wiping his eyes and giving a quick thumbs up. His hair is plastered to his forehead and dripping down his face as he beams up at Dan from a distance. He holds up both hands as he treads water. “How many points?”
Dan’s barely paying attention to the video as he improvises some horrible accent that definitely isn’t a diving judge, but he doesn’t care. It was obviously a ten.