Bluebird (Phan)

Chapter 21: XXI

The best and worst days of Phil's life occurred a few days later. Weekday. Late afternoon. 2006. It had been a prolonged few hours and Phil was trudging the walk home alone from school when his phone rang. Dan's number was dancing on his screen.
"Hey, lovely," he said into the line, upon answering the call. "How'd the therapy go?"

"The same," Dan answered. His voice came smooth down the receiver, constructed with a softness that wasn't like what was customary. It must have been obvious, this change, or Phil wouldn't have acknowledged it. "Are you busy tonight?"

Phil used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun's gleams glaring down as he crossed the road. "When am I ever busy?" he responded. "Where are you?"

"You always have enough homework to last you the night, I can never get a look in," There was a smile in Dan's voice. So easy and so simple. "I've just finished with the session."

"Oh. So you're not with Abi?" Phil didn't even want to say her name. He'd been trying to avoid it for a while now, after all the mess she'd made.

"I told her I was out tonight," Dan said.

"Why? You don't have to, we've been over this. You need to just stop lying to her and—"

"I'm not lying. I am. And so are you."

"Sorry?"

"You know that hotel just down the road from the garage Bernie's mate works at? The guy who used to come over with his wife on a Sunday?"

Phil frowned. "Uh, yeah—Wait, what hotel? There's a hotel down there?"

"Yeah. It's fairly new, they built it a couple years ago."

"Oh, right, okay. I know the one. What about it?"

"Meet me there," Dan softly urged, oppressed excitement tangled in the serenity of his voice. "I'll text you the address and the room."

"You bought a room?" Phil halted on the little street. "Dan, darling, what are you doing?"

"Being romantic," he laughed. "Come on, you'll love it."

Phil stomach tightened. God, this boy. "You want me to meet you in a hotel room?"

"Yeah, we're gonna spend the night," Dan told him. "Just us. Together."

"Dan, you've lost your mind."

He laughed, and it was gorgeous. "Tell me something I don't know, pretty boy."

Phil smiled, sunlight in his expression, and shook his head. "What about Bernie and Elise?"

"Fuck them. They won't care."

"Yes, they will."

"Leave them a message or some shit. Tell them we've gone to London again."

Phil snorted at the dry humour. "No. We can't just run away to a hotel for the night."

"Babe," Dan sighed, and Phil's skin prickled. "This is, like, the only chance we're ever gonna get."

There was something so strange about that. The way he uttered it, the way it sounded. It was impossible to place what it was. But he was continuing before Phil could lay all the pieces of it out and decode them, "Just come meet me and you can text them later, when we've thought of something. They're not expecting you back, are they?"

"I don't think so, they shouldn't be. They might be out themselves."

"Well, then. Please, come meet me," There was a longing smeared across his tone. "I want to just have a night with you. We can be us."