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When Phil first awakes in the morning, it takes him a moment to remember where he is. The room around him is a bright, blurred mess, but even without his glasses on he can tell it’s not their regular bedroom in London. For one, the floor is linoleum instead of carpet, and there’s an unfamiliar dresser across the room, sparse of any of the usual knickknacks he and Dan would decorate their home in. Then he spots the suitcase on the floor, haphazardly tossed to the side and half open, and he remembers. Right. They’re in America today, where they’ve been for the past two weeks for work.
He blinks hard, and suddenly the sunlight streaming in through the open window is too bright. Why didn’t they close the curtains before they fell asleep last night? Now that he thinks about it, what did happen last night? When he tries to recall it, he feels a heavy throbbing sensation in the back of his head, and his mouth is incredibly dry, like he swallowed a handful of sand in his sleep. He knows they went to a party last night, accompanied by a few friends. He knows they got some drinks. But with how hungover he feels right now, he’s wondering just how drunk they got.
Speaking of drinking, the next sensation he’s aware of is how badly he needs to piss. He reaches for his glasses on the nightstand, then gets up and slowly makes his way to the washroom, careful to avoid the clothes he can now see strewn all over the floor. Noticing his own lack of attire, either the two of them were so tired last night they didn’t bother to change, or he and Dan had more fun than he realized. It wouldn’t be the first time they had drunk sex, but he likes to remember when they do.
In the bathroom, he sits, too tired to stay standing for too long. He takes a deep breath in and rubs his hands over his face, hoping to wake himself up. As he does, he feels something almost like metal scratch his cheek, and quickly pulls away to look down at his hands. And that’s when he spots it—on his left hand, wrapped around his ring finger, is a silver band. A ring.
He feels his heart skip a beat, and a shock of cold runs down his spine as he stares at his finger, trying desperately to figure out where and why and how he could’ve possibly obtained a ring in the last twenty-four hours. Phil has never been one for jewelry, and everyone who knows him well enough to give him something such as this would know better. But this is no ordinary ring. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear it was a wedding ring.
It’s like a light switch goes off in his head, and at thinking the word ‘wedding,’ his mind is filled with snapshots of last night, photos flashing through his memory in quick succession like an old school View-Master. And suddenly he remembers where the ring came from, and why and how he got it. Because it is indeed a wedding ring.
He and Dan got married last night.
They had only planned to stay at the party for a couple hours. They were in Las Vegas for the weekend, after spending a whole two weeks in LA attending cons and visiting some old YouTube friends. A few of them suggested they all go on a weekend trip afterwards to Vegas, get some drinks and play some slots at the casinos. It wasn’t Phil’s favourite suggestion, what with how bright and loud the city could be, but it had been so long since they’d come to America, and Dan wanted to go, so Phil agreed.
And there they were, hour three—or was in four?—into a party at one of the many hotel bars along the Vegas strip, getting drunk while an old pop song played way too loudly on the speakers. There were far too many people around them, and the room was so hot, Phil chose a table as close to the door as he could get away with just to get some reprieve from the heat. Whenever someone came or went, he felt the breeze from outside pass him by, cooling him momentarily. He was watching Dan, who was standing at the bar and waiting for a refill on his drink, chatting to their friend Anthony next to him. They were deep in conversation, Dan gesturing wildly like he tended to do when he was discussing something he was passionate about. Knowing him, it could be anything from politics or philosophy to his current favourite video game obsession.
The door opened, and Phil glanced back as a group of twenty-something-year-olds stepped inside the bar. It brought in a new bout of fresh air, mixed with the smell of too much cologne and alcohol, and then it was gone again. When he turned back, he saw Dan and Anthony coming back to the table.
Dan placed a clear glass in front of Phil as he sat down. “Water,” he said, pushing the glass toward him.
Phil smiled, taking the water in his hand. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. He was more thirsty than he realized, having spent the last few hours only drinking alcoholic beverages that tasted like pure sugar or burned his throat.
“‘Course,” Dan said.
Phil saw Anthony glancing between the two of them, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he did.
“I still can’t believe I never figured it out,” Anthony said.
Phil wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to, but it must’ve been something he’d already talked about with Dan, because he said, “I told you, your gaydar sucks.”
“Sure, but like... it seems so obvious now,” Anthony said. “Like, of course you’ve been together the whole time. It only makes sense.”
Now Phil understood. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d heard that since coming to America. They’d already gotten the congratulations from many of their friends and YouTube counterparts online, but the amount of people that wanted to congratulate them in person was almost overwhelming. Sure, they’d been out as a couple for over eight months, but while it was one thing to be open about it online, it was an entirely other beast to discuss with very real people in public. It was a relief, of course, not having to worry about how people might perceive them when together. But it takes more than a few months to shake sixteen years’s worth of learned behaviour, something they’re both still navigating to this day. But they’ve been taking little steps, talking about it and seeing what each other is comfortable with. Together, like they’ve always done.
Then, Dan said, “You just didn’t want to assume. I appreciate that.”
“Probably,” Anthony said. Then he added, “So, what’s next? Any engagement announcements coming soon?”
Phil chuckled, more out of shock than anything, but kept quiet. He glanced to Dan, trying to gauge his reaction without words. Surprisingly, he was laughing.
“Why, you want an invite to the wedding?” he asked. “You’ll be waiting a long time for that one, mate.”
“I can only hope,” Anthony said. He was also smiling, so it was clear this was all a very lighthearted discussion to him, only meant to tease and not push. It was another topic that they’d heard ad nauseam since coming out, from everyone like friends and family to fans and complete strangers. Phil understood why, of course; they’ve been together for sixteen years, why wouldn’t they get married?
It’s not like they hadn’t talked about it. Phil remembered the conversations they’ve had, the ones pre-coming out. After the UK legalized gay marriage, five years into their own relationship, it was something his mother would bring up on occasion, just to him over the phone. But they were still so young, and their careers were just starting to take off, and Dan wasn’t even out to his family as gay yet, let alone that he was in a long-term relationship with his flatmate. The conversation got more serious when he did finally come out, but the response was usually the same.
“I don’t want the government to have a say in my relationship,” Dan would say. “We know what we mean to each other; a piece of paper doesn’t change that.”
And Phil would agree, because he felt the same, and because he loved Dan too much to push.
Now, though, he looked to Dan beside him, no longer paying attention to the conversation at hand. He appeared fine on the outside, but it was hard to know for sure when he was tipsy, and there were so many lights and loud music interfering with his perception. Slowly, he placed a hand on Dan’s thigh, as a silent but assured way of letting him know he was there, that he didn’t have to continue the conversation if he didn’t want to. Dan, who was still waving his hands around as he talked, lowered his left to place it over Phil’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. I’m okay, he was saying. But he didn’t remove his hand away either, just laced their fingers together and rested their hands on his leg as he talked.
It was a nice feeling, holding his boyfriend’s hand in a public space, not having to worry about any prying eyes around them. Sure, there might be some people looking, but now without the crushing weight of wondering what people will think if they saw them, it was easier. It wasn’t perfect, of course; it was hard sometimes, not to immediately pull apart when they brushed arms or hands, or second guess calling each other partner when out in public. But then they’d remember that it’s okay now, and sometimes they’d smile and have a laugh about it, and other times they would share a sad look, like they wished they could unlearn those habits faster. There were some things they still kept just for them, of course. They didn’t ever kiss in public or on camera, and they tried to keep the more personal details of their relationship to themselves. They were happy to be out in the open now, to let everyone know that they were a couple, but they still wanted to save some parts of it for just themselves, and they knew people understood that.
As Phil tuned back into the conversation in front of him, he heard Dan and Anthony laughing about something he missed. Then someone nearby called for Anthony, and he turned their way, then looked at his phone.
“Shit, it’s getting late,” he said. Phil checked the time on his own phone and saw it was after midnight. It was later than he’d like to be awake, especially when they’d had such a busy week. Anthony continued, “We should probably head back to the hotel, huh?”
Dan took in a deep breath, but he didn’t move from his spot. “You guys go on ahead without us,” he said.
Anthony stood, pocketing his phone. “You sure?” he asked, glancing between him and Phil.
Phil was just as confused, but didn’t question Dan just yet. “Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he said.
“If you say so,” Anthony said. A few of his friends came by, people Phil recognized as a part of Smosh, saying their goodbyes to them as they walked out of the bar. Once they were gone, Phil turned to his partner.
“Why don’t you wanna leave yet?” he asked. “Afraid of missing out on something?”
Dan shook his head. “No,” he said. “I wanted to go for a walk, actually. Just us. That alright?” he asked.
Phil was slightly taken aback by that request, but he was more than happy to oblige, glad to be alone with just Dan again. “Sure,” he said. “Where to?”
Dan shrugged. “No idea.”
Now, back in their shared hotel room, Phil finishes up in the washroom. He washes his hands slowly, careful not to get too much water on his new ring. He realizes he could take it off, but somehow that seems wrong at the moment. Plus, knowing himself, he fears he’d find a way to lose it in the thirty seconds it’s not on his body. He dries his hands, then steps back into the bedroom, still staring at his ring.
“Morning,” he hears, and jumps, startled by Dan’s voice. When he looks at him, he sees Dan's not facing him, but is staring at his phone in his hand, scrolling through whatever social media app he’s chosen.
“Morning,” Phil says. “Didn’t realize you were awake yet.”
“Think I woke up sometime after you did,” he says.
“Right,” Phil says, almost hesitant to speak. He’s not quite sure how to approach him at the moment. He knows they got married last night, that it was a joint decision, but it was a very drunk decision at that. Was Dan bothered by that? Did he even remember it? How much did Phil himself even remember correctly?
Dan glances at him now, brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion. “You alright? Or were you planning on standing there with your dick out all morning?”
This eases Phil just a little. He mutters, “No,” then laughs and shakes his head.
Dan laughs too, then says, “You’re such a weirdo.” He nods for Phil to come to him, so he does, crossing the small space of the room and climbing back into bed with his partner.
Dan is currently scrolling through Instagram Reels, which makes Phil roll his eyes. Of course he’d be on Instagram right now. But Phil doesn’t protest this yet, just rests his head on Dan’s shoulder, watching the videos alongside him. He’s holding his phone in his left hand, which makes sense considering he’s left-handed, but then it dawns on Phil that it’s also the hand that would have his matching wedding band, and suddenly Phil desperately wants to see that Dan’s wearing it, and it’s not some strange hallucination or a fever dream of sorts.
Without thinking, he reaches forward and takes the phone out of Dan’s hand, turning the screen off and placing it on the bed between them. Dan only protests slightly, but then Phil is taking Dan’s left hand in his right, intertwining their fingers together. He flips their hands so the back of Dan’s is facing up, but he already knows what he’ll see, having felt it the second he touched him—a silver band identical to his own, staring up at them from his ring finger.
“So,” Phil says, letting go of Dan’s hand to twist the ring between his fingers, “should we talk about it?”
He feels Dan take a deep breath, and Phil glances up to see his expression, resting his chin on his shoulder. Dan frowns, taking Phil’s left hand in his right to touch the ring resting there. He doesn’t say anything, just touches it, twisting it back and forth between his forefinger and thumb like Phil did.
“We can,” Dan says. “Where did you wanna start?”
It was much nicer outside on the Strip than inside the stuffy bar, and Phil was so glad to be outside he didn’t even care about the luminous glow of the Vegas signs or the many patrons still walking the streets. He also didn’t mind Dan’s hand still gripped in his, both familiar and not, as they walked down the very public sidewalk. Phil wasn’t sure where they were headed, if Dan truly had no plan of direction or if he was silently plotting something, but whatever it was, Phil was more than willing to follow him along.
They walked for a while, Dan pointing out different sites and bars and hotels, places they’d visited in the past and admiring the newer attractions that had popped up since. It was surprisingly nice out for the end of June in the city, not too hot for their midnight stroll.
Eventually, Dan led them to a quieter street—as quiet as it could be for Las Vegas—lined with small restaurants and hotels with names unfamiliar to Phil. There were less people around, and the blinding lights of hotel signs and street lamps were fading into the background. Up ahead, Phil spotted a limo parked in front of an unassuming hotel, patrons still milling about the front steps. Dan slowed down upon approach, which confused Phil for a second—until he saw what his boyfriend was looking at.
Standing by the doorway, surrounded by a small group of friends and family, was a couple. He could tell that from the way they were clinging onto each other, gripping hands and arms as they spoke to the guests around them. But the biggest giveaway was the wedding dresses both women were wearing. The gowns were long and white, and one of the brides was carrying a bouquet of flowers in her hand, the other hand intertwined with her new wife’s.
Phil felt Dan’s hand tighten in his own, his eyes still trained to the couple on the top of the stairs. Phil took a step closer, leaning his head on Dan’s shoulder. The two of them watched as the couple descended the stairs, smiling and waving as they made their way to the limo out front. Some of the friends clapped and cheered as the pair got into the car, and then the vehicle was driving away, and the group out front began to disperse, walking away from the hotel and some passing Dan and Phil as they went.
When the street was mostly clear again, Dan took in a breath and said, “They looked so happy.”
Phil agreed. “They did,” he said.
Dan went silent again, and Phil knew he was deep in thought, but what about he wasn’t sure. He rested his chin on Dan’s shoulder and asked, “What’s on your mind?”
Dan sighed, then turned to face Phil properly and causing him to lift his head from his shoulder. He was surprised to find Dan wearing a serious expression, rather than the relaxed one he had earlier.
Dan asked, “What do you think of those? Vegas weddings?”
Phil furrowed his brows in confusion, not sure where this was going. But he answered, “Like the one we just saw? They’re cute, I guess. Although I mostly imagine them more last minute, with less guests and an Elvis impersonator officiating them before they run off into the sunset together.”
Dan chuckled and shook his head. “You watch too many tv shows.”
“You’ve seen the same ones!” Phil protested. Then he added, “I don’t know. I guess there’s something sweet about them as well. The last minute ones. Like, you’re with someone that you love so much you have to marry them right now because you cannot wait a second longer not being married to them.”
“Right?” Dan said. “It’s kind of romantic.”
“It is.”
“Would you marry me right now?”
It took Phil a second to process what Dan just said. “Marry me” isn’t a phrase he ever thought he’d hear him say. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure it was more Dan or the alcohol talking.
Once his mouth caught up with his brain, he said, “Come again?”
“Would you marry me?” Dan said, and that time, Phil could tell it was him, his Dan, and not the coke liqueur talking to him. “Right now?”
“Where is this coming from?” Phil asked. “I thought you hated marriage.”
“Maybe,” Dan said. “Maybe not. Maybe I changed my mind.”
“And you’re bringing this up now?” Phil asked. He chuckled, amused by this sudden revelation. He wasn’t mad at all—in fact, he was elated at this news. But his curiosity was winning out first, and he wanted to know what changed before agreeing to anything just yet.
“Why not?” Dan said. “We are in Vegas, after all. The city famous for elopements and last-minute weddings.”
“Right.”
“And we just saw a happy couple getting married.”
“Right.”
“And you still haven’t answered my question.”
Phil shook his head in disbelief. “I just wanna make sure you understand what you’re saying. You’re asking me to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Right now?”
“Correct.”
“And this isn’t a rhetorical question?” Phil asked. “Or some wild thought brought on because you’re so drunk you won’t remember asking me tomorrow?”
“No, Phil,” Dan said. He smiled, then grabbed Phil’s other hand with his, holding onto him tightly. “Look. You know me better than anyone, even better than I know myself sometimes. And while I can’t be sure of many things in this life, the one thing I’ve always been sure of is you. You’re my best friend, my partner, and I love you. I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to love, but you do it anyway. So, fuck expectations, and fuck what everyone else thinks. Fuck it all. Let’s be reckless for once in our lives. Let’s get married, Phil. Because right now, I cannot wait a second longer not being married to you.”
And maybe Phil was too drunk to think it all through as well, but maybe he wasn’t. They were standing under street lights and shining venue signs, its incandescent glow casting a halo affect across Dan’s hair. There was a glimmer in his eyes as he awaited Phil’s response, and Phil thought—maybe he was just in love.
“Fuck it,” Phil said. “Let’s get married.”
There was not nearly as much work involved in a spontaneous Vegas wedding as Phil thought. It turned out they didn’t really care where you were from or how intoxicated you were, as long as they made their money. But there was some paperwork that needed to be signed, and there needed to be at least one witness present for it. They considered texting their friends, but it was so late in the night, they were probably either too drunk or too tired to show up. And besides, a part of them wanted to do this alone. So the venue offered to provide them with someone, and the next thing they knew, the officiant was there—sadly not dressed as Elvis, though neither of them had ever claimed to be big enough fans to care that much—ready to marry them.
They stood in front of the alter, holding hands as the officiant flipped through a book of vows.
Nervous, Phil said, “Are we really doing this? Getting married in Vegas?”
He didn’t mean any harm by this, saying it more to himself than anything else, but he watched Dan’s expression shift from excited to earnest. He squeezed Phil’s hands and said, “We can always back out. Whatever you want, I’m there.”
We can back out, Dan had said. This was a mutual decision, had been from the moment Dan asked him—from the moment they met, really. They were a joint union, partners, inevitably tied together in everything and in every way, brought together through fate or the internet or a little bit of both. Whether they got married wouldn’t change that. But as Phil looked into Dan’s eyes, so full of love and care for him, he knew—there was nothing else he’d rather be doing in that moment than marrying the love of his life.
So Phil squeezed Dan’s hands back and shook his head. “No. I want to do this,” he said.
Dan grinned. “Me too.”
The officiant began to read out the script, a generic set of vows yet not religious in nature. They had no personal vows themselves, seeing as they’d only decided to this not even an hour ago, so they repeated the words the officiant told to them, down to final “I do.”
It wasn’t until then, when the officiant was asking Dan if he would take Phil to be his husband, that it really, truly hit him. They were getting married. Yes, they were in Vegas of all places, and it was on a drunken whim in the middle of the night, but still. They were getting married. Right now.
And Phil felt it, the love and adoration they had for one another, as they said “I do.” He felt it in the way Dan looked at him, in the rings the officiant handed them, matching silver bands that were cheap yet available. He felt in the way Dan held his hand as he put the ring on his finger, his hands shaking the entire time.
And when the officiant closed the book and pronounced them married, he felt their love filling the entire room as he said, “You may now kiss!”
They didn’t care that they were in a public space that anyone could walk into at any second, that they were standing in front of a man they had only just met an hour ago, that there was a young witness sitting in the back of the room watching. They pulled each other close, Phil letting go of Dan’s hands to cup his face. Their lips met, and Phil swore he could hear the distant sound of clapping. Dan laughed into it, his hands tightening around his waist. They pulled back for a moment, and then Dan pulled him back in for a second kiss, and Phil could hardly believe his luck.
Before they could leave, the officiant had them sign their marriage certificate, alongside their witness, who smiled and wished them luck. They thanked her and the officiant for their time, then made their way out of the building together. Phil kept one hand tightly clasped in Dan’s, could feel the silver band wrapped around Dan’s finger pressing into his skin, and held the certificate in the other.
They weren’t too far from their hotel, but it was a bit of a walk in their current state of tipsy and giddy, and it was late enough that they could reason calling an Uber. The driver showed up quickly, making small talk as they climbed inside and drove. Phil leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder the entire time, their joined hands resting in his lap.
Thankful the drive was so short, they rushed out of the car and into the hotel lobby. The only person around was the front desk clerk, too busy on their phone to pay them any mind. The ride up the elevator was agonizingly slow, but they made it to their floor, then their room, where Dan had to let go of Phil’s hand to fumble for the key card in his pocket, and then they were inside.
Phil thought he would be tired by now. After all of the drinking, socializing, and their spontaneous elopement, he figured he would want to collapse into bed the second they got back. Instead, the moment the door closed, he was met with Dan’s hands all over him, grasping the sleeves of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, awaking him anew. It was intense, the kind of intensity that Phil knew could only mean one thing, and it all he could do to steady himself against Dan as he let him take control. He ran his hands up his arms and into his hair, tugging on the ends as they took drunken steps further into the room.
Phil felt the back of his legs bump into the bed and he stumbled, prevented from falling only by Dan arms still around his waist. They laughed as Dan pulled Phil closer to him, his gaze shifting from Phil to the bed and back.
“Well, what do you say, husband?” Dan teased. “Wanna take this to the bedroom?”
Phil chuckled as he looked around the room. It consisted of a small table, dresser, TV stand, and the aforementioned bed just behind him; the “bedroom” was the only room around them at the moment, but he played along anyway.
“Whatever you want, husband,” he said.
He watched as Dan lit up at this, his smile so wide and eyes so bright; in that moment, he was as radiant as the sun, and Phil knew they’d be living off of this euphoria for a long time.
Dan pulled him in, kissing him with a ferocity he’d become familiar with over the past sixteen years. He ran his hands down Phil’s shirt, undoing the buttons from the bottom up and tossing it to the side. Dan was kissing the side of his mouth, his cheek, his neck, his hands fumbling with Phil’s belt while Phil was messing with the hem of Dan’s shirt, itching to pull it off.
He was suddenly reminded of a time long ago, when the two of them were much younger and fooling around in his childhood bedroom. The energy in the room was palpable, and though it wasn’t the first time they’d had sex, their relationship was still so new and exciting, they could hardly keep their hands off each other any time they were together. He was so sure he knew what it felt like to be in love, and while young Phil wasn’t entirely wrong, it was nothing compared to what it would become, and what it was still becoming now.
Phil pulled back from Dan, just enough to get him to look at him. Dan’s gaze was heavy with desire, but he stopped moving entirely when he met Phil’s eyes, whose hands were still toying with the edge of his shirt.
“I love you,” Phil said. It was only three words, a phrase they’d said to each other countless times in their years together, so simple yet still carried so much devotion. “I’m so, so in love with you, Dan.”
Dan smiled, cupping Phil’s cheek in his hand. He ran a thumb gently across his face. “I love you, too,” he said. He laughed lightly. “God, I am so fucking in love with you, Phil.”
Phil grinned, and then they were kissing again, hands in hair and hot on bare skin. They fell backwards onto the bed, wasting no time getting undressed, anxious to be close to one another.
Husbands, they said, over and over again, reveling in the high every time it was spoken. Best friends, partners, lovers, soulmates, boyfriends—and now husbands. There were so many ways one could refer to the bond they shared, and none of them could ever quite capture their connection. But as they lay in bed, intoxicated from alcohol and sex, Phil thought “husband” was more than alright for them.
Now, Phil holds Dan’s hands in his own, unsure of what to say next. It was Dan who asked him to get married, Dan who spotted that couple outside the venue and wanted them to feel that same joy, Dan who referred to Phil as his husband long before they were even openly a couple, let alone married. And yet, Phil is worried—what if he regrets it?
Beside him, Dan leans in a little, trying to meet Phil’s downcast eyes. “Phil?” he says softly. “You okay over there?”
Phil nods. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I just...Don’t know what to say yet.”
“Would you like me to start, then?”
It’s another reminder of why Phil loves his boyfriend—no, husband, he reminds himself—so much. Communication has always been their strong suit, but words often come easier to Dan than they do Phil. In moments like these, when Phil is almost at a loss for them, he appreciates Dan all the more for being the one to take the first step.
“Well,” Dan continues, “we got married last night. Do you remember that?”
Phil nods again. “I’d be hard pressed to forget it.”
Dan chuckles. “Me too.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about all of this,” Phil says.
“Should I not be?” Dan asks. “Would you rather I was overly excited? Or upset? All doom and gloom?”
Phil shakes his head with a laugh. “Shut up, that’s not what I mean.”
“Well, what do you mean, Phil?” Dan says. “You might as well tell me. Cause whether you like it or not, you’re tied to me now, in more ways than one.” He emphasizes this by holding up Phil’s left hand in his own, their wedding bands on full display.
“Of course I like it,” Phil says, unable to refrain from smiling at the sight of their rings. “I love being tied to you. Don’t you?”
“In the physical sense? Not particularly, no,” Dan says. “I need my space sometimes, despite what people say otherwise.”
“I’m serious, Dan,” Phil says, finally dropping all pretenses. He tightens his grip on Dan’s hands and takes a breath. “How are you feeling? Like, really feeling? About us being married now?”
Dan takes a moment to think, but when he meets Phil’s eyes, there’s a smile on his lips and so much love in his gaze it almost hurts. “Honestly, Phil? I’m really happy. I know I’ve always been the one to say we don’t need to get married in order to be happy, or to fulfill some lifelong achievement everyone expects from us. And I still believe that.” He pauses. “But I think I spent so much of my life denying myself from even thinking about marriage, because I didn’t see it as a possibility for us for so long, that I never really stopped to consider why, or if that could change. And then we came out, and everything just got so much better, and being open about us just made me fall even more in love with you. And at some point, I realized that, as scared as I claim to be of commitment, you’re the one thing I’ve always been so sure of, and I want to be with you in all the ways I can be with you. So getting married, being able to call you my husband, alongside the million other names I already call you, is just an added bonus.”
Phil is smiling, so wide he can feel his cheeks hurting. “Wow,” he finally says. “That’s really sweet, Dan.”
Dan shrugs, but he’s still smiling. “I try.”
“You know, you should write that down,” Phil adds. “It would’ve made some great vows if we had any.”
“Oh, shut up! As if I would’ve said that in front of anyone else,” Dan says, shoving Phil aside. It’s not much of a push, and Phil just bounces back closer, bumping Dan’s shoulder with his own and staying there, resting his chin on him and breathing him in.
“What about you?” Dan asks after a moment. “How are you feeling? Any regrets yet?”
Phil thinks for a moment, then says, “Mm, just one.”
Dan raises his eyebrows. “Oh, just one, yeah?”
“Mm-hm,” he says. He glances at the mess of clothes still decorating the hotel floor. “I think I blacked out at some point last night, after we got back to the hotel. Kinda wish I remembered that more.”
Dan throws his head back in a loud laugh. “Of all the things you could regret, the one you pick is that you wish you remembered having sex?” he asks.
“Yes,” Phil says.
Dan shakes his head. “You are something else, Philip Lester.”
“Philip Howell, please.”
“Daniel Lester.”
“Howell-Lester?”
They pause, then burst out laughing.
“We’ll figure that out later,” Dan says. “As for your regrets, well.” Dan turns to face Phil, leaning in close. “Would you rather I tell you about it? Or show you?”
Phil giggles. “Show me what, exactly?”
Dan smiles, then closes the gap between them, kissing him quickly. He lets go of Phil’s hands to grab his face, tangling his hands in his hair and pushing him down into the bed. Phil follows his lead, so familiar with their ways after so many years of being together, and yet the excitement that rushes through his body as he wraps his arms around Dan has never once wavered.
Dan pulls back for just a moment, looking longingly into Phil’s eyes. He brushes a strand of hair away, slowly tracing his finger along the curve of his face, down his cheek and around his chin, gently outlining his full lips. Phil reaches up to take a hold of his hand, pressing it to his lips and kissing the back of his knuckles.
“In case I didn’t make it clear,” Phil says softly, “no. I don’t have any regrets marrying you.”
Dan smiles tenderly. “None at all?” he whispers.
Phil shakes his head. “None.”
Dan’s grin widens. “God, I fucking love you.”
“I love you, too,” Phil says.
Dan beams, glowing bright enough to compete with the stars. He kisses Phil hard, and Phil responds eagerly, pulling Dan in close. They laugh into each other, raring to spend the rest of the morning savouring in what will be the first of many mornings loving each other as a married couple. After all, as Phil himself once said, their lives have only just begun.