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Dan often wonders how science can explain how he and Phil seem to be simultaneously the luckiest and the most cursed people in the entire world. On one hand, what were the odds of the two of them finding each other – mutual soulmates – in the first place?
On the other hand, their sappy romantic vacations have about an 80% injury rate. Dan spent his last birthday fighting for his life in a half-finished bathroom. Their house and studio keep quite literally breaking, and now, they’re about to miss their second New Year’s in a row.
The plan was to spend the holiday in Brighton with PJ and Sophie, but their train got horribly delayed due to the heavy storm that they’re now jogging through. Dan didn’t wear good shoes for jogging, and Phil doesn’t jog at all, let alone in the freezing rain. Phil grabs Dan by the sleeve and pulls him under the awning, out of the rain.
Once Dan isn’t being pelted by rain, he can feel the water cascading from his curls down his forehead and into his eyes. He blinks and grimaces, trying to get his vision clear, and it only works somewhat.
“Phil, we can’t stop, it’s almost midnight!” Dan scolds, keeping his fleece held over his and Phil’s head.
“It is,” says Phil. He pulls out his phone and struggles to turn it on with his wet, clumsy fingers. But even turning the screen on makes his point. It’s 11:58. Even if they sprint, they’re not going to make it.
Dan’s heart drops, and then it drops even further when he registers just how upset Phil looks. He drops the fleece, getting the idea that they might be under the scaffolding for a little while longer than expected.
“It’s alright, Philly,” Dan says, “New Year’s parties don’t end at midnight, we’re still going to get there. If anything, we’ll make an entrance.”
Phil frowns. “I know, but…”
But it’s New Year’s. And Phil wants to kiss.
Dan would be lying if he tried to pretend he hadn’t had the same thought.
Phil is operating under the assumption that they won’t kiss outside of the safety of their oldest friends’ home. It’s a decent assumption, one built on reason and precedent. It makes Dan feel sick and tired.
Last New Year’s, they’d only been out as a couple for a month and a half. They were still testing the waters, testing the world, waiting until the moment that their happy honeymoon bubble popped. And it did, just not in the way that they expected. Things that once would have felt impossible started to feel simple: referring to each other as partners and boyfriends. Holding hands on the tube. Casual touches as they passed each other by in crowded spaces. Public Heart Eyes Howell.
Dan doesn’t think that he’ll ever get used to it, not as such. He spent sixteen years in the closet in one form or another. It would be naive to pretend like they’re both just normal now and nobody is traumatized. The decade and a half long secret relationship left them with scars that will be healing forever.
But at least they’re healing.
They healed a little bit in Vietnam, when the hotel staff called them Mr. and Mr. Lester without an ounce of judgment. They healed when Phil finally got invited to a weekend with Dan’s family. And some time in February, when he and Phil got a weird look on a street corner, Dan was able to acknowledge the fear and breathe through it instead of retreating into the shadows and crumbling to dust. They healed then, too.
All of the sudden, Dan’s heart is beating in his throat, as if he’s winding up for his first kiss with Phil and not what’s probably his hundred thousandth.
“Pull up the broadcast,” says Dan, “The New Year’s broadcast.”
“Okay,” says Phil, not asking for an explanation. By the time he gets the YouTube livestream up, they’re about twenty five seconds from 2027.
Headlights are reflecting in the puddles of water on the road, casting silver all across the street. If Phil took his glasses off, he would probably be able to pretend they were fireworks. But Dan knows that doesn’t matter. They could be anywhere. They could be celebrating New Year’s at the bottom of a dumpster as long as they were doing it together.
Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen.
Brighton is unexpectedly crowded this time of night. There’s a man across the street who might very specifically be looking at them and it’s going to be okay.
Twelve. Eleven.
Dan takes Phil’s face in his hands to hold him still because he’s shivering, but Dan is also shivering so it doesn’t really help. And it’s going to be okay.
All at once, all the people on the street start to chant in unison, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, and because they’re both impatient bastards, Dan and Phil pull each other close.
Their New Year’s kiss is a spot of warmth, the eye in the literal storm. They drag it out for a few seconds to make up for jumping the gun, and when 2027 arrives, Dan and Phil are already lost in each other. How fitting. They break apart in name alone. Dan winds his arms around Phil’s body and rests his cheek on his fleece-covered shoulder.
They stay like that for a bit, until Phil whispers, “Peej and Sophie are probably picturing us like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining,” into Dan’s hair and he laughs.
“Alright, silly Philly,” says Dan, “Let’s get a move on.”
But once Dan returns to processing his surroundings, he fights the urge to flinch at the sight of the big, burly guy from across the street striding towards them. His life might flash before his eyes. He’s not sure. What he does register is the fact that he’s clinging to Phil like he’s flotsam in a crushing wave.
Phil, who’s got his back facing the street, says, “What is it, Dan?” and Dan can’t speak.
The man gets within punching distance of the two of them. Instead, he scans a sensor outside of the building that they’re using as shelter. On the awning, Dan reads the word residence. It’s an apartment building.
“Happy New Year, lads,” says the stranger with a friendly smile. He disappears into the building.
Dan unwinds himself from Phil. Once they’re face to face, he breaks into a relieved, somewhat hysterical laugh.
“You know what, Phil?” says Dan, still grinning, “I think this is gonna be our year.”
Phil laughs. “Okay, but that implies that 2026 was not very much our year. And 2025. 2024 was fantastic, too.”
“Maybe it’s all our year,” says Dan, “Dan and Phil century. Dan and Phil millennia.”
“Dan and Phil eternity,” says Phil.
“Hell yeah.”
—
Two hours later, Phil gently pulls Dan out to PJ and Sophie’s balcony by his jacket sleeve. Dan seems to have taken their late arrival to the party as a reason to drink the same amount of beverages in half the window of time. He’s still clinging to Phil like he was under the awning, pressing feverish kisses to the shell of Phil’s ear and his cheek while Phil just laughs.
When Dan pulls him in by the waist, he tastes like the smoke of whiskey and forever.
“Phiw,” he slurs, mere millimeters away from Phil’s face. Phil is blushing. He hopes it’s visible under the stars and PJ’s pretty LED lights. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Suddenly, his eyes go wide, as if he’s reached some kind of intelligent conclusion, though Dan shudders to imagine what that might be.
“Why am I whispering?” he asks.
“Oh, god,” says Phil, as Dan runs to the edge of the balcony and leans over the rail.
“HEY!” he shouts down to the sidewalk, immediately capturing the attention of a man and woman walking out of the building, holding hands.
“What?” the man calls back up to him.
Dan grabs Phil by the shoulders and shakes him lightly, like a well-loved ragdoll. “I LOVE THIS MAN! THIS IS MY MAN AND I LOVE HIM!”
“Okay, mate,” says PJ’s apparent neighbor with disappointing sobriety, “Congrats.”
Phil knows that it would be proper decorum to apologize on behalf of his extremely drunk partner, who is harassing this couple of strangers. He moves to say he’s sorry. The words turn to sand in his mouth.
Somewhere in the far distance, Phil sees a little bunch of fireworks erupt. People have decided the rain was long enough ago that it’s possible to set off the fireworks now, at two in the morning. Better late than not at all.
He thinks that it would be the most bold-faced lie he’s ever told, if he apologized. He’s never been sorry for being in love with Dan. And now they get to be loud and messy and annoying about it, and he sees no reason to be sorry about that, either.