IT was 10 o'clock at night and Phil and I had just got back from the radio 1 studio. We'd been kept back a bit longer than we usually were, so we took a cab home instead. The pair of us were tired, but then Phil had had a sudden craving for an ice blended coffee and so we detoured back to the nearest starbucks. The air had been warm and denser than usual, so we walked in their short sleeved shirts, our arms occasionally brushing. Phil was still pretty embarrassed about the fact that he'd messed up Dan vs. Phil with the most anticlimactic 20 questions ever. I was trying desperately to get that strange idea out of his head, in fact I'd actually found it really funny, even though that segment of the show lasted a few minutes less than usual. I loved Radio Show days with Phil, his laughter and smile were infectious. I only had to hear his voice and the smile in it to be suddenly grinning from ear to ear. I keep telling myself it's incredibly cringy and the most clichéd thing in existence, but my life is so much better because I have Phil in it.
I have loved him for 5 years and love him even more each day. Getting engaged was probably the easiest decision of my life. I found his embarrassment endearing really, but I could tell he was suffering silently about something more than just the games. So when we got home and he collapsed on the couch, rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, it was almost second nature to walk into the kitchen and make some hot chocolate, whipping out the secret stash of mini marshmallows I had stuffed behind the crunchy crisp cereal box (Phil never looked). When I passed him his mug and sat down next to him cross legged, he smiled gratefully and squeezed my hand, stifling a yawn behind his other hand. If I've learnt anything in these past 5 years, it's how to anticipate Phil, and he's probably learnt the same about me. So he doesn't hesitate to lie back and accommodate room for me to lie with him, with my head in the crook of his neck. His arms close around me and we sit there for a while, both of us relaxing in the other's company and enjoying the comfort the chocolate and marshmallows bring us.
I'm about to propose we watch some Buffy and then adjourn to the bedroom when I look up to see him frowning slightly. He still can't be thinking about what happened before the show, can he? Phil over thinks things sometimes, and that puts him in a bad mood for a while. I need to head him off and cheer him up. We were ambushed by a group of Phangirls, squealing and shouting greetings at us before transitioning into exclamations like "Is Phan real?! Oh my god!". I know from snooping around on tumblr that a lot of the phadom disliked fans who shoved the ship in our face, and respected our privacy. But, it still didn't make much of a dent on the fact that as much as we loved each other and the phans, we weren't at all ready for people to know, and today's encounter kind of shook us. We were holding hands just a few paces before we were ambushed, and I shudder to think how that would have affected the reaction we received, given the magnitude of their screams in response to us just walking within a few inches of each other.
But what probably shook us more was what happened slightly later. Just before we reached the BBC studio, we were greeted by something pretty unpleasant, though I'm sure nobody watching the show picked up on it. We were quite used to getting the occasional homophobic comment once in a while from strangers so we tried not to let it get to us too much. To be honest, we both wanted to come out, but I held back because I was afraid of some of the reactions we'd get. I wasn't too concerned about people unsubscribing, the pair of us were pretty financially secure with the radio show and if people can't accept us for who we are, then I suppose I won't be sorry to see the back of them (metaphorically, of course). But to be honest, what I feared the most was the things people would say or do to me and Phil. It was the little things, like a snobby person on the street saying "faggot" under their breath when they passed us, or someone giving us evil looks on the tube if we held hands. These things barely affected me personally; these people knew nothing about me or my life, so I learnt to let it slide. But with Phil on the other hand, he'd think about these things more than I did even though we'd both just try to let these things go most of the time.
That was another reason why we'd chosen to not come out yet; there was still too much hate in the world. Today was a great example: after we walked past the giggly girls, I accidentally bumped into a dude and squealed, I was still kind of flustered from the phangirl ambush (trust my social anxiety to act up when I least need it to). The guy then proceeded to push past me roughly, telling me to "piss off, fucking faggot". I wasn't particularly bothered and was going to just keep walking, but Phil looked angry and as if he was going to say something to the guy. We really didn't need a confrontation on the way to work, so I pulled him along and the pair of us calmed down as we walked, distracting ourselves by talking about nonsensical things. Hate directed towards me I could handle just fine, but it bothered Phil, just like it bothered me when people said hurtful things to him. And this hate took a chunk out of Phil every once in a while.
"Phil? You alright?" I asked tentatively, breaking his trail of thought.
"Huh? Yeah I'm fine. Fine… just thinking-"
"About the douchebag on the street today? Phil, just forget about him." I cut across Phil's sentence. He sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, love. It's just-"
"It's just nothing. Forget about it. People don't understand. But it doesn't matter, alright? It doesn't matter." I'm sitting up now, my body turned so I'm facing Phil.
"But it does matter! I should have said something to him! He was being a jerk to you and I just let him walk away?" Phil sounded more upset with himself than he was angry. Trust Phil to be an over protective fiancé.
"Phil! I don't care about it. I really, really don't. It doesn't hurt me." I say to him earnestly, but he won't look up from the mug between his hands. His shoulders are hunched and I can tell he's frowning eve if I can't see his face.
"Phil, look at me." I say, slightly torn between entertainment and exasperation. I loved him to pieces when he was concerned like this. But still, I didn't want him upset. His blue eyes reluctantly met mine. His voice is soft when he speaks.
"Did I fail you today? I've been thinking about this since we left the studio." His eyes are big and expressive, something that I love about him. Some people aren't genuine in their interactions, but Phil always was, his emotions were as clear as the blue ocean that were his eyes.
"No." I say to him simply. "No, the world has failed us but we're fighting it together." Some nights, Phil would get worked up about things like this. He'd retreat into his thoughts and his eyes would cloud over. I guess tonight is one of those nights. And I didn't want him sad, so I did my best to comfort him, as he had comforted me countless of times when life or the existentialism was getting me down.
"I love you. That's all that matters. The world is just going to have to deal with it." I say simply, smiling at him as the corners of his mouth pick up slightly. He looks back at me silently for a while, and his eyes lose their tiredness and his expression softens.
"Dan, how could I ever deserve someone amazing like you?" he asks, but doesn't let me answer. He presses his lips to mine gently and I entwine my fingers in his dark hair, responding to the gentle kiss with my eyes closed to his touch. We stay like this for a while, our limbs entwined and out mouths not parting, then he breaks away to whisper "I love you too" into my jaw. I sigh happily then pull back, running my fingers through his hair. Moments like this were rare in out busy lives, so I cherished them immensely. I get an idea and I look up at him, smiling cheekily.
"Hey Phil, I'll tell you what you can do. You can get me a bag of maltesers from the kitchen." Phil laughs at this, the stress melted away from his face. I lean back on the couch so we can untangle our limbs and he heads off the kitchen while I settle back into the couch watching his tall figure slide around the kitchen with a smile on my face. If we break out a bag of maltesers after 10 at night, it's a sure sign of a cuddly night ahead of us.
When he comes back, we go back to cuddling on the couch and watch Buffy into the early hours of the morning, pausing it now and then to take contact lenses out or wash our faces, both of us slightly too awake from the caffeine earlier on. We fall asleep together on the couch, Buffy playing softly in the background, my head on his shoulder and his arms around my waist.
When I wake up, its 5 in the morning, I'm holding his hands in mine and my back is stiff from sleeping on the couch. Phil's neck is lolled back in an awkward position, his glasses still on his face, so I wake him quietly to save him possibly worse muscle cramps later on in the day. We walk drowsily, leaning on each other into Phil's room, where we collapse on the bed and stay safe and warm in each other's embrace for the remainder of the morning; happy in the bliss moments like these bring us.