Malleable. Grainy and solid but soft and malleable. The creations of the Earth are truly remarkable. He utters as much about his internal monologue about the sand beneath his weight, Phil responds with a breathy laugh which is as much as he expected the response to be. He let his shoulders lift up in a shrug as he watched the other boy turn his head around to observe his surroundings. He, too, lets his eyes wander. From the soft brown shade of the sand to the more pinkish toned skin of his boyfriends hand. He made a mental note to remind him to put more sunscreen on.
He felt himself captivated by the serenity of the scenery. The wind blew in perfect synchronisation to Phil's breathing, his chest expanding and deflation in a steady, calm, almost hypnotic rhythm. The strands of his hair catching the wind, almost seeming to live a life of their own. It was beautiful, picturesque, he decided as he snapped a photo of the back of Phil's head and posted a quick Instagram story. Knowing it would be appreciated, if not equally as much storing this moment for himself. To look back upon.
He let his head fall down upon the bump of sand he'd scooped up underneath the towel. Like an earth-made pillow. His left hand coming up to play with the fingers of Phil's right one, which was still resting on the sand behind him as he supported his body weight. They were bony, and long, not as chunky as his own, always a bit cold as opposed to his own seemingly never ending radiation of warmth.
The name slipped easily off his tongue. If he wasn't so self-aware he wouldn't even have noticed the whiney tone it had been uttered in. And if he wasn't so in tune with the boy sat slightly in front of him, he wouldn't have known that the smile thrown his way was that of a fond kind. His heart melted a tad every single time.
It's almost kind of freaky how in tune they seem to be. When Phil turns around and starts carding his fingers through his knotted curls, just seeming to know there was a need for physical contact. Anything, to keep them both grounded. He's almost sure he'd have evaporated into his own feelings if he didn't have Phil's hand in his hair anchoring him down. Phil received this entire message through a single sigh of satisfaction. The fingers scratching his scalp wouldn't seem like a big deal but in the moment it seemed like it could solve all the worlds issues, the gentle motion calming like no other.
Phil bent down to nuzzle his head into Dan's chest for a brief moment. Dan would tell him off for breaking his spine in half, later, when the feeling of love wasn't as all-consuming and addictive. Dan doesn't understand the science behind getting so caught up in another human being, but it's real and it's there. The rush of dopamine, norepinephrine and all the other ines of their first time together having clearly settled down. Dan's heart doesn't palpitate whenever he sees Phil anymore, his palms don't sweat at the slightest proximity to him, he doesn't feel a physical need to be the centre of his attention all the time. Although it is a nice addition.
Phil's touch is calming, a practiced routine, deep rooted into his very being at this point. A necessity, but not in an urgent form. Phil's head against his chest a welcomed weight. When Phil's fingers come up to play with Dan's earlobe, he knows exactly what he's doing.
"Do you want me to pop a beach boner?"
"That was my plan."
"i fucking hate you."
Phil's quiet for a minute, fingertips not slowing their massaging on the gentle flesh of Dan's earlobe. It's nice.
"And that's the tea."
The groan escaping Dan's lips was of utterly pure disapproval. He shoved Phil off of him and covered his face in his hands, hearing Phil's cackle of a laugh in the background, knowing full well he has a perfect opportunity to mock him for sticking his tongue out but deciding against it. Determined to prove just how much of an atrocity that phrase was coming from Phil's mouth.
He reluctantly removed his hands from his face by the time he decided the point was proven, met with a smug looking Phil. He'd have been jumpscared if he didn't expect it. Having felt his body heat shifting and the presence of him looming over him, knees tucked neatly underneath himself, right beside Dan's torso. A hand either side of Dan's head.
"I still fucking hate you."
Phil let him know he'd understood as much with a small "sure." while leaning down to capture Dan's lips in a kiss which proved, the exact opposite. There weren't fireworks or pounding hearts, no primal need to get Phil's clothes off right his moment. But it was nice, one of the best feelings. An expression of love and security. The symbolism of a kiss just seeming to grow as the urges dissipate. Dan leaned back in for another one simply because Phil still tasted of vanilla ice cream of course, nothing else. Until Phil's fingers found his earlobe and the taut skin beneath it again.
"Let's go back?"
Phil's eyes twinkled in the sunlight and they had time to explore the beach later, he decided. He wasn't as madly infatuated with Phil as he was eight years ago but sometimes he was hard to resist. He could speculate about the scientific reasoning behind love later. Biology was showing him concrete evidence of what his response should be as he rose up on his feet to follow Phil back to the hotel. Heart not pounding out an irregular nervous pattern but definitely a solid reassuring one. Something about the flush on Phil's cheeks told him the feelings were mutual.