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All things considered, this really wasn’t how he had envisioned his October, Dan thought while trying to open his grandfather’s transporter with one hand and holding his coffee cup in the other. It wasn’t even past seven am yet, and here he was setting up a pumpkin tent.
This wasn’t his first time doing so, of course, but he hadn’t run the stall in almost ten years. But when his grandfather had fallen off a ladder earlier this September and had been prescribed rest and a leg cast while his hip healed, he had immediately offered to help out.
Originally, he had offered to come up to the farm, but his grandma had quickly shut that down. ‘We’ll be okay here. Don’t worry,’ she’d said, ‘I might be old, but my hip isn’t broken.’ He had protested, of course, but she hadn’t budged.
Secretly, he was kind of grateful she hadn’t. As much as he loved his grandparents and their little farm, visiting his hometown always made him feel a bit queasy. To many people who knew too much about him and too little space to hide from their judging eyes.
When they’d ask if he would be able to take care of the yearly pumpkin tent, they sat up in London during October, though he’d immediately agreed. Usually Jeremy, their farm boy, would do it, but with his grandfather out of commission, they’d need him on the farm.
Which is how he ended up here, at the crack of dawn setting up the tent and pumpkins Jeremy had so kindly driven up to London yesterday. Luckily, the play he was staring in right now only started rehearsals after three pm so he wouldn’t need to drop out.
The only thing that would be suffering was his sleep schedule. He already missed sleeping in until after twelve pm and it hadn’t even been two days yet.
Luckily, setting up the tent was as easy as he remembered it being, and once the heavy lifting was done, decorating was actually kind of fun. Hanging up the jack-o'-lantern garlands and displaying the ceramic pumpkins reminded him of the good parts of his childhood.
The harvest had been good this year, and with a bit of luck he wouldn’t even need to keep up the tent until Halloween if all the pumpkins sold before then.
It took a full two hours, but by nine pm the tent was all set up, and he went to get his well-deserved second cup of coffee and breakfast sandwich before officially opening the tent up for customers.
For as long as he could remember, they had always set up the tent in the same space, close enough to central London to be easily found by customers but not in the middle of the London-city center chaos. He was rather grateful for that. Spending an entire month in Piccadilly Circus might have killed him.
As the morning went on, more and more customers started to show up. Old ladies were more interested in the smaller pumpkins often used to make soup, and mothers with children who were already so excited for Halloween they just ‘had to have a pumpkin now’ even if their mothers made the rather sensible argument that pumpkins carved now would have rotted by Halloween.
By two pm he had sold a solid amount of pumpkins for the day and was getting ready to close up the tent when suddenly a man burst through the curtain doors. The first thing he noticed about the man was that he was tall. Really tall. Almost as tall as Dan, which was a rarity.
Curious, he sat back down behind the counter while the man tried to catch his breath. He was wearing sneakers paired with loose-fitting black jeans and a light-blue cloud fleece. His hair was bleach blond, although the roots were already showing quite a bit, and—
Oh.
The man finally caught his breath, stood up properly, and looked directly at Dan. Suddenly, the most gorgeous blue eyes he had ever seen were staring back at him, and he found himself unable to look away. It would have been polite to do so. In fact, he always made a point to not bother customers unless they came up to him first to make the experience less awkward on both ends.
But something about the man made it so he was unable to look away. It wasn’t even just the eyes; his whole face looked like God himself had taken time out of his day to craft it, and now that he was coming closer, he could actually see that his eyes weren’t just one color- Wait. Coming closer?
“Hi,” Shit. Fuck. Despite staring at the man for the entirety of the time he had been in the tent, he had somehow failed to register that he was coming closer.
Okay. Get it together. You’ve talked to hot people before. You’ve sold pumpkins before. Today, as a matter of fact. You can do this.
“I’m Dan.” He blurted out and then, to his horror, watched as he stretched out his hand as if to initiate a handshake. Oh God.
The man tilted his head to the side and eyed the hand curiously before taking it. His hand was cold, but that didn’t stop the electrical bolts shooting through his body from the point of contact.
“Hi Dan. I’m Phil.” The man, no Phil, answered. He even smiled a little. Okay, maybe this wasn’t unsalvageable after all.
“So, I need a pumpkin. Like asap, my boss is going to come in,” he checked his phone, “like ten minutes, and if he sees it’s missing from our Halloween display, he’ll be so mad.”
“I sell pumpkins,” Dan offered up. Oh God. Why? Why was he like this? “I mean. I can help you with that. What kind of pumpkin do you need? Size? Color? We have pretty much everything.”
If Phil thought he was acting weird, he didn’t show it. Or maybe he was just being polite. “Ahem, I don’t really now. Like a normal pumpkin, I think. Orange, big enough to crave something into it eventually.”
“Okay, those are over there,” he pointed to the right corner of the building where they kept the carving pumpkins. “Just pick whichever one you like best, they are all around the same price.”
“Great, thanks.” Phil smiled and wandered off. He really must be in a hurry, as he spent almost no time picking out the pumpkin, instead opting for the first one he saw.
He struggled a bit when picking it up, and Dam was almost inclined to offer his help, like he often did with older customers, but he didn’t want to potentially embarrass Phil.
“God, these things are heavy,” Phil complained, and Dan wanted to slap himself. Maybe he should have offered his help after all.
“I know,” he sighed, “we sell bags if you want one.”
Phil eyed the bags suspiciously. “I know they don’t like much but I promise they can hold the weight.”
“Alright,” Phil said, “I’ll take a bag too.”
“That’d be seven pounds fifty then.” Phil handed him a ten-pound note.
“I like your fleece, by the way,” Phil said, casually, but Dan could feel himself freeze up. He’d totally forgotten he was wearing his black and grey fleece today.
“Thanks,” he said, not looking up from the cash register, “I like yours too.” Phil didn’t immediately respond, so he decided it was safe to look up again and hand him his change.
Phil took it and stuffed the coins in his pocket, “It’s fun we’re kind of matching. Our fleeces, I mean.”
Dan could practically feel his brain short-circuit, and he was definitely turning red now. “Oh-h. Yeah. I guess.” He stuttered out.
Phil smiled and then put his pumpkin in the bag. Just before he went out the curtains again, he turned around and gave Dan a small wave. Too embarrassed to be caught staring yet again, he simply looked down at the counter.
Immediately after Phil left the tent, he buried his face in his hands. That was just his luck, of course the guy of his dreams would walk into his pumpkin tent, and he made a fool of himself. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, now he would never see him again.
The next two days went by uneventfully. As much as he loathed getting up at six am every day to have the tent open and ready by nine, he did quite enjoy his work. Most of the customers were friendly, and he could use any free time he had between customers to learn his lines.
The play he was in currently was a not particularly exciting rendition of Macbeth, but he was playing Banquo and had quite a few lines to learn. He had questioned his choice to stay true to his passions, acting in particular, often throughout his life, but found now that he was in his thirties that he didn’t regret staying. Sure, the pay was sometimes terrible, and some directors were truly horrible to work with, but he had made a great deal of friends during his time as an actor.
And there was truly nothing like standing on a stage, performing. Although it did require learning lines, which was usually not a problem for him. However, despite the tent being entirely empty at the moment, he couldn’t find it in him to concentrate.
His phone told him that it was just about five to two anyway; he should pack up. But something made him hesitate. It was stupid, really. Phil hadn’t shown up again in the last two days, and there was no reason to believe today would be any different. And even if he showed up again, why would it be at the same time?
Dan sighed. The man probably hadn’t thought of the awkward guy who sold him a pumpkin two days ago once. Other than to cringe at his awkwardness, maybe.
He was just about to give up and go home when the curtain door opened again. He should probably be embarrassed by how fast he whipped his head around to see who it was, but he was too busy staring. It was him. Phil. He’d actually come back.
He was wearing the same shoes and jeans as the first time he’d come in, but instead of his fleece, he was now dressed in a huge rainbow-colored windbreaker underneath which he could make out a shirt that, if he was reading it correctly, said, 'I'm useless and gay’.
Dan was pretty positive that he had never smiled so widely in his life before. “Phil, hi.” He greeted him before the former had even gotten to the front of the counter.
“Hi, Dan,” Phil greeted. For a minute they just stared at each other. For as much time had he had dreamed about Phil coming back to the pumpkin tent, he really should have thought of something to say.
Thankfully, Phil saved them. “So, I need another pumpkin. My boss says one isn’t enough.”
Right, of course. Phil hadn’t come here to see him. Despite his outfit. He couldn’t believe he deluded himself into thinking Phil was here for him just because he was wearing a rainbow jacket.
“Yes, of course. Same as last time? Or do you want something more artsy this time?”
“Artsy?”
“Well, I’m assuming this is for a display of some kind? We have a variety of smaller pumpkins with different patterns and colors.”
“Oh, yeah, that would be great actually. I’m not sure we have the space for another big one.”
This time he actually got up from behind the counter and showed Phil the different kind of pumpkins they sold. In the end, Phil decided on a white pumpkin. “It’s a ghost pumpkin,” he said.
“It’s really not.”
“But it’s a pumpkin, and it’s white. If humans can throw on a white sheet and call that a ghost costume, how is this any different?”
“Because this is just a different pumpkin breed.” But he couldn’t help but be endeared by Phil's insistence.
“That’ll be seven pounds this time. Unless you want another bag?”
Phil shook his head before handing him another ten-pound note. “So, is this what you do? Like, are you a farmer?”
“No, I’m just helping out my grandparents. They have the farm. My grandfather fell off a ladder a couple weeks ago, so I’m filling in.”
“Oh no, is he okay?” Usually, Dan hated the fake concern people displayed when you told them someone they didn’t even know had an accident, but Phil seemed genuinely sincere.
“The doctor ordered rest, and he’s in a cast, but he’ll recover. Probably more of a bruised ego than anything else.”
“So, you don’t live on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere then?”
Dan laughed, “God, no. I live in London, that’s why I’m helping out here instead of on the farm.”
“Thank God.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, never mind. I could just never imagine living on a farm that’s all. It must be dirty.” But Dan didn’t miss the way his cheeks turned slightly pink.
Maybe his crush wasn’t so hopeless after all.
It became a bit of a routine after that. Every day Phil would come in, always at around two pm, and ask for another pumpkin. He rarely bought big ones, usually smaller ones with fun patterns or interesting shapes.
They talked more and more as the days went on. Dan found out that Phil was thirty-nine and that he worked at a board-games store that his friends PJ and Sophie owned. Apparently, PJ was the
decoration obsessed boss and that they designed their own boardgames that they sold in the shop.
In return, he told Phil about his career in acting, about the different plays he had done and how it was his dream to write his own stage show eventually.
Talking to Phil was now easily his favorite part of the day. He could even stomach getting up at six every day if it meant he got to see Phil.
About a week later, he had decided to pull his black-denim jacket out of the closet again. It was really a summer jacket and definitely too light for the middle of October, but it was his only piece of clothing that visibly displayed that he was gay. At least if one paid attention to the patches sown onto it, which he hoped Phil would.
At this point he could probably ask Phil out, and it wouldn’t be all too weird. But it didn’t feel right. Maybe Phil really did need all those pumpkins for the store. Maybe he was just one of those naturally chatty people and was only talking to Dan because he was there. Maybe he already had a boyfriend.
There was simply too much at risk here, and the last thing he wanted was for Phil to stop showing up because he made it awkward.
He regretted the jacket, or at least his decision not to bring another sweatshirt, for the entire day. Despite the tent walls, he was freezing. Regardless, he persevered, however by the time Phil came around, his fingers were turning blue.
Not that he cared, not when Phil was looking at him with a huge grin on his face while he clearly checked out the patches. “Hi, Dan.”
“Hi, Phil.” He responded, trying his hardest not to clatter with his teeth. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Phil noticed anyway.
“Are you cold?” He asked with an amused look on his face.
“I’m fine.” Dan lied.
“Sure, you are,” Phil replied before checking his phone. “Wait here.” And he was out of the tent before Dan could protest.
Dan was a bit stunned. This wasn’t how any of their previous interactions had gone, and he suddenly questioned if the jacket had been a bad idea after all. But Phil hadn’t seemed upset when he saw it.
The opposite actually, he had seemed quite pleased.
Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long for Phil to get back. Just a couple minutes later, Phil’s now familiar figure walked through the curtain door again, only this time he was holding two cups.
“Here,” he said, holding one out to Dan. “I got you a black coffee. You seem like the type.” He grinned.
“Oh, thank you.” The warm cup in his hand was almost too hot at first, but after only a few seconds of holding it, he could already feel the life returning to his hands. “You didn’t have to do this,” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry. I wanted to.” They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment before Phil added, “especially since I kind of figured it’s my fault you’re freezing.”
Dan didn’t know how to respond to this. He had hoped Phil would realize why he was wearing the jacket. He hadn’t expected to be called out on it.”
“Just following your example,” he responded.
“Touché.” Phil responded, but he was still smiling. He was just about to ask what drink Phil got when the latter’s phone pinged.
“Oh god, sorry. I gotta get back to work. See you tomorrow, Dan.”
It didn’t occur to him until much later that Phil hadn’t actually bought a pumpkin this time.
From there on out, Phil brought them coffee every day. A black coffee for Dan, as he had been right that was how he liked them, and always some overly sweet concoction for himself that he made Dan try.
He did still ask for pumpkins, although Dan had stopped letting him pay for them since he must be spending a good three to four pounds every day on his coffees.
The longer they kept talking, the more he started to adore Phil. It was almost crazy how similar they were. They liked all the same bands, as they had realized after Phil had happily pointed out a Muse song Dan had added to the playlist for the tent, video games, and foods. In their early twenties they had both gone through an emo phase, proven by the photos they showed each other of their fringes back then.
It would be frightening if it wasn’t so goddamn fun. Phil’s visits started becoming longer and longer, and Dan had to apologize to the rest of the theatre crew multiple times when he showed up late for rehearsal yet again. Not that he was really sorry.
The only thing that really worried him was how fast the end of October was approaching. It was already the twenty-fifth, and he barely had enough pumpkins left for two or maybe three days if he stretched it a little. Furthermore, the director of his play had announced they’d be rehearsing all day from the twenty-ninth to the thirty-first before their first performance.
If he wanted to make a move, he really should. Soon. And he wanted to, he really did. But he had no way of knowing if Phil wanted the same thing as him. By now, he was pretty sure Phil was making the visits to his tent for him and the pumpkins. He didn’t dare hope it was only for him. He must need those pumpkins for something.
But if he had thought Phil was gorgeous and hot before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. He was almost ashamed to admit he longed to have Phil in his life long-term. What if by asking him out directly he ruined any chance of friendship they might have had? After all, Phil hadn’t made a move yet either, and he seemed to be the bolder one of the two.
A couple more days passed, and the twenty-eight came sooner than he wanted too. At least sales-wise he had done a good job this year. By the time two pm came around, all but two small white pumpkins he had purposefully kept for Phil had sold.
Still, his stomach was in knots. This was the last time he was operating the tent this year, and if he didn’t do anything about it now, his last time seeing Phil.
Phil walked in a couple minutes after two, carrying their two coffee cups just like always. “Hi, Phil.” He greeted him, just like always, trying not to sound too nervous.
Judging by the look on Phil’s face, it didn’t work. “Hi, Dan. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dan replied, reaching for his coffee.
"Nope," Phil held the coffee up high, “not until you told me what’s wrong.”
Dan sighed. “These are my last pumpkins,” he responded while pointing at the pair of white pumpkins.
“Oh,” Phil responded, “is that bad? Do you need more?”
“What? No. It’s good actually, means I’ve sold all our goods. It’s just- well I won’t be here anymore.”
“Oh,” Phil responded yet again, but this time he seemed to understand what Dan was getting at.
“Then what are you doing tomorrow?” Phil asked, sounding a bit defeated.
“Rehearsal,” Dan sighed, “for three days straight. Halloween is opening night for us. You know with the witches and all, the theater thinks it will work.”
“That sounds fun,” Phil replied, “I’d love to see it. I just know you’re amazing.”
“Oh my god, you should,” Dan suddenly heard himself blurt out, “I mean, the actors all have reserved seats for friends and family. I rarely ever fill mine, but if you want, you could come. If you’re free, I mean, it’s Halloween after all. It’s okay if you have plans.” Oh God, who allowed him to speak?
But when he looked up at Phil, he saw nothing up but joy on his face, “I’d love to come. Honestly, my plans mostly consisted of playing video games in my underwear and eating lots of Haribo, but I think I’ll be able to move that.” He grinned.
“Awesome, I’ll see you then.”
“Great.”
“Oh, by the way, I kept these pumpkins for you. I hope PJ will be okay even if he doesn’t get a new display pumpkin for the last three days of October.” Phil looked at him curiously before shaking his head a little.
“Sure, these are great. Say, do you have a pen?”
He took the pen Dan grabbed out of the desk-drawer for him and scribbled something on Dan’s coffee cup before handing it to him.
They chatted for a bit longer before Phil took his pumpkins and left the tent one last time. Only then did he feel brave enough to check what Phil had written on the cup.
‘Can’t wait to see your play x, +44 45382963 Phil :)’
He was so busy the next couple of days that he barely had time to worry about the fact that he had invited Phil to his play. It had been no problem to reserve a seat for Phil. He rarely did this, though.
Inviting people to see his plays, it had been an impulse decision, of course, but he didn’t regret it afterward. If anything, he was excited to know that Phil would be in the audience that night.
They had texted a little bit in the last couple days. Mostly just memes and checking in but it made Dan feel all warm and fuzzy inside anyway.
He was checking his phone one last time before putting it away for the performance when he saw that Phil had sent him a picture off the theater view from his view just captioned ‘!!!’.
The play went over well. As unoriginal as the inscenation was, he quite liked the other actors, and they worked well together. He only allowed himself two secret looks in Phil’s direction, but both times he looked genuinely entranced by the play.
Getting out of the theater after the play was harder than he had anticipated. Everyone wanted to hug and congratulate one another, and while he didn’t want to hurt anyone's feelings, he and Phil had also agreed to meet by the back entrance after the play had ended, and he really didn’t want to keep him waiting.
After he finally got through the masses and said his goodbyes, he all but sprinted to the back entrance. Thankfully, Phil was still there, phone in one hand leaning against the wall, looking as pretty as ever under the streetlights.
“Hi, God, sorry for the wait. It was hell in there. Everyone's congratulating each other and everything.”
“No worries,” Phil responded, “I figured it is probably a party in there.”
“You were amazing by the way,” Phil said while whipping back and forth on his feet.
“Ah, I’m just alright.”
“No, really, I mean it. You are so talented I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night.”
Dan could feel his cheeks heat up again. “Okay, thank you.”
“So, do you need to get back inside? Or are you free tonight?”
“Free, I’m definitely free.” Technically, he had an afterparty to attend, but there was no way in hell he was leaving Phil.
“Great, so like my friends PJ and Sophie are doing like a spooky board game night at the store unless…?”
“Unless?”
“Well, I don’t live far from here,” Phil responded, cheeks kind of pink. “We could go to mine.”
“Yours sounds good,” Dan responded, maybe too fast. “Your original Halloween plan sounded great anyway.” He added.
“Oki.”
Phil hadn’t lied, his apartment was maybe a fifteen-minute walk from the theater. Phil spent the entirety of the time asking him questions about the play, and Dan was more than happy to answer them.
"So," Phil said when they got to his front door, “I just want you to know that- well I’m not like insane, I promise.”
“Is this where you show me your collection of real human hair?”
Phil giggled, “No, but you’ll see what I mean.”
The door opened to a completely normal floor, but once they got to the living room, he immediately knew what Phil had meant.
Every surface in the room was filled with pumpkins. Small pumpkins, larger pumpkins, pumpkins of all shapes and colors. His pumpkins, the pumpkins Phil had bought from him for the entirety of the month.
“Wha- I thought you needed them for work.” Was all he could think to say.
“I did,” Phil started, sounding nervous. “Well, the first one anyway, and PJ let me use the second and third to decorate the store some more, but afterward I needed to put them somewhere else. And I know it’s stupid, and I should have just like asked you out, but I didn’t know if you even liked-“
Dan shut him up by pressing their lips together. It took Phil a second, but then he all but melted into the kiss. Dan wasn’t a stranger to kissing or hook ups, he’d gotten around thank you very much, but never before had a kiss felt like this. Kissing Phil just felt so right, like this was what they should have done from the very beginning. Like he had finally found a piece of himself he never knew he was missing.
“I can’t believe you bought a pumpkin from me every day just to talk to me,” Dan said when they finally parted to get some air.
“I can’t believe you genuinely thought I needed that many pumpkins.”
“Guess we’re both idiots then,” Dan responded before kissing Phil once again.
“Bedroom or video games?” Phil asked.
“Bedroom,” Dan responded immediately, “we can play videogames tomorrow.”