Work Text:
London is loud, and busy, and crowded, but it's still home.
It's just a home they like to escape from more often than they did before.
When they decided they could invest in a second flat somewhere, they talked about a few different places. America, to work more there. Brighton, because they have friends there.
But Isle of Man was always a frontrunner, just shy of a foregone conclusion. Phil wants to be close to his parents more as they get older, valuing the time they have left.
Dan wants somewhere with a beach he can walk across while listening to existential music and live his melancholy emo kid dreams.
So London is their city, and it will stay that way - but the path to the Isle of Man is well-worn, and the place waiting on them is starting to feel just as much of a home as London.
-
The house in Isle of Man is small, a concession to the high price of property on the island and the simple fact that they don't need much when they're there. It has one bedroom with a nice, open-plan kitchen and lounge. The lounge overlooks the sea and in good weather it's only a ten minute walk to where Phil's parents live.
They're about to make that walk now. Phil is bundling himself into a coat and complaining that he can't find one of his gloves.
"Check the pocket," Dan shouts from the bedroom.
"Found it," Phil reports. He comes in wiggling his gloved up fingers. "How did you know that? Are you a secret psychic?"
Dan rolls his eyes. "Yes. Just like your grandma. Now come on, we're going to be late."
"There's no such thing as late when going to see your own parents," Phil argues.
"There absolutely is," Dan argues back, because it's true and he values being prompt and respecting other people's time.
But also because Phil doesn't know what Dan knows.
-
They stop for a coffee on the way.
Phil always wants to. Dan usually says no, the Lesters have coffee for him, and besides he'll just spill it on himself as they walk.
But this time, Dan gets a sneaky text saying he needs to buy ten more minutes. When Phil gasps over the sandwich board of coffee specials, Dan only resists long enough to keep suspicion at bay before he gives in.
Phil is in an even better mood because he feels like he's won an argument, and his prize to walk away with is a sugary drink with a hint of coffee. He refuses to give Dan a drink out of the principle of the matter.
Dan doesn't really want a drink. His stomach is already churning with nerves.
-
Everything looks normal when they walk up to the house. From the inside, Dan can hear voices. Freja is the loudest. She's a raucous teenager, not quite yet buying into a world who wants her to be glued to a phone screen and obsessed with her image and clout.
Freja is more like her mother, more of a free spirit. She's started spending some summer weeks in London with Dan and Phil. She likes to paint and her room stays a mess and no snack in the flat is safe from her midnight wandering.
She's the one that opens the door. She flings herself at him and does the same to Phil before she turns and runs away. She is a hurricane in human form and there's no denying who her family is. Dan loves that about her, too.
"Daniel," Cornelia says, and Dan finds himself swept into another hug.
Her eyes are shining. Dan quietly begs her not to give it away.
"Allergies," she announces, pre-emptively. "The strangest thing."
Phil starts to question her, but then she's in the next room. He gives Dan a little laugh and they follow her inside.
-
Phil starts to suspect something is up when neither of his parents are inside. Kathryn is always there to greet him.
"She hates you," Dan says. "Because we're so late."
"I hate you," Phil shoots back.
They take off their jackets and hang them by the door. Phil's hair is a riot underneath. It's brown shot through with silver. He keeps talking about dyeing it something neon.
Dan thinks it's an empty threat. But if it's not, he's glad Phil at least decided to wait until after this trip to pull the trigger. He refuses to consider a reality where all of their engagement photos involved blue hair.
He notices Phil start to take his shoes off and stops him. "I think they're in the back garden, let's just go out there."
Phil gives him a curious look, but agrees.
-
The garden looks like something off of Pinterest. Phil's parents have done exactly what Dan requested. It's picturesque. There are fairy lights strung up between trees, with photos of them throughout the past thirty years hanging in the spaces between bulbs. The table is full of snacks, champagne chilling in buckets on either side.
Phil does not say anything. He looks at the table, looks at the lights and photos, looks back at Dan.
Dan gives him the smallest smile. He's surprised his feet are even still on the ground with the way the butterflies in his stomach are flapping their wings.
There are two paintings on small easels on the table, too. One is clearly done by Phil's father, the other by Freja. One is an almost photorealistic depiction of Dan and Phil, the other of the very view they’re looking at.
"Dan," Phil says. He looks again, questioning harder.
"Hey," Dan says, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying not to let his voice crack. "There's a cake on the table."
Phil looks back again. He takes a few more steps and sees the cake. It's white chocolate and pistachio, and on it someone with a more stable touch than Dan has written, "I guess we should get married."
Phil laughs. While his back is turned, Dan drops to one knee and pulls out the ring.
–
Phil says yes, and calls Dan an idiot. Dan cries a little, and gets a lot of hugs.
He also gets the mildest of guilt trips when Kathryn thanks him for doing it while she and Nigel are still around to see. They’re fit for their ages, but the clock does keep ticking on.
Maybe that’s why he wanted to do this in the first place. Because he’s always known that Phil is his forever, but something about seeing Phil push past fifty has made him suddenly antsy to lock down that future.
Dan’s just a slow bloomer, maybe. Couldn’t grow a beard until he was in his late thirties, couldn’t consider putting a ring on it until almost a decade past that.
They’ll go back to London at the end of this long weekend, and start to hammer out what a wedding actually looks like to them. Dan is already thinking something small. He wants an open bar and piano music. He wants to know what Phil wants, too, though. They’ll cobble together something that represents them equally, the way they always have.
But it doesn’t matter. Phil keeps looking down at his finger then looking over at Dan, and Dan knows that this is just icing on the cake. And yeah - the ring isn’t the commitment. Their lives as they live them already is the commitment.
But sometimes icing is nice.