You're The Straw To My Berry (Phan)

Part forty-nine

Phil P.O.V. 

"Come on Dan, let’s go!" I entwined our fingers and ran out the door, hearing it shut and automatically lock when we started to descend the stairs. 

"Phil! Why are you making us go down the stairs?!" Dan whined. 

"I'm happy today!" I laughed, continuing to pull him down with me until we reached the bottom and I slowed down to a walk, feeling slightly breathless, but I felt good.

We walked to town in easy silence but I was just glad that Dan was here with me. I couldn't really remember the last time we went out together, so in some ways it was just a small date to Starbucks. 

"Go sit down, I'll get our drinks. The usual?" I asked Dan when we arrived. He nodded enthusiastically and then kissed me on the cheek. We got a few stares, but it hardly bothered me. 

"See you in the minute," he slipped his hand out of mine and I watched him disappear to the other side of the shop, making a mental note of where he was so I wouldn't look like a fool wandering around looking for him after. 

I paid and collected our coffees after an agonising wait, praying I wouldn't spill any during my journey to where Dan was. I found that he had bagged us a small table with the red squishy chairs and he was sitting so his legs were hanging off the side. 

"Dan, you act like you live here." 

"I own this bitch," he replied and I laughed and sat opposite, setting our mugs down and unconsciously sticking my tongue out the side as I did so. "Thanks Phil, you should've let me pay though." 

"Spending £4 on you won't kill me! And anyway, you buy them all the time," he frowned which made me realise he didn't look very tan. "Did you really go to San Francisco? You don't look like you've caught the sun." 

"I stayed inside a lot," he said shrugging. 

"Oh, why?" 

"I just wanted to be alone," he started singing his stirring song that only made an appearance when we were at Starbucks and I got the impression that the America trip was something that he didn't want to talk about. I dropped the subject and made conversation about something completely different and he returned to his usual chatty self. 

* * *

"Dan, I don't think you can pretend make out you've still got more to drink anymore, we've been here for nearly two hours." 

"But I'm comfy here!" He moaned, trying to work the pleading eyes on me. I ignored his attempt and got up, offering a hand out which he reluctantly took and followed my lead. 

"We can be comfy elsewhere," I stated and dragged him out, walking in the direction of the park. We sat down on the bench we knew only too well and I put my head on Dan's shoulder, watching distant people pass. 

"This bench holds a lot of memories for us," Dan pointed out after a few minutes of silence. 

"I know. Didn't we sit here on our first visit to London when we were looking at flats?" 

"Yep, not to mention all our little lovers' tiffs we've had here and when we first held hands," I felt my cheeks get hot at the memory.

I couldn't believe I got so worked up over the mere thought of holding his hand when almost 5 months later I thought nothing of it. Not that time erased the feelings though of course, I still loved how our hands fitted together perfectly. 

"Hey Phil, we should carve our names onto this! Move a sec, I think I've got a pen in my bag, we can use that," he found a biro and then grinned mischievously at me and took the lid off before twisting sideways and started to carve our names into it. I cringed at the scratching against the wood but ten minutes later it was complete. 

'Dan and Phil' was now etched into the surface for everyone to see, followed by the date. 

"Now we'll be here forever! Like the bench... hopefully..." I trailed off and Dan laughed and faced me. 

"Oh Phil Lester, I don't think I could ever live without you," he said and brought our lips together.