After filming their Interactive Introverts show for the tour, Dan and Phil share a shower. As Phil tries to exit, Dan holds the shower curtain closed. He wants a little something more.
Dan Howell, a twenty seven year old man, ran off stage with a huge smile.
Phil Lester, aged thirty-one, jogged off behind him as the thunderous applause and screams followed them back stage.
Dan clapped Phil on the back and Phil laughed.
“Nice work!” Dan yelled to be heard above the crowd.
“You too!” Phil yelled back. “Great improv out there!”
Back in their dressing room, Phil collapsed onto the sofa and Dan into the overstuffed chair.
“I think it went well,” Dan began as the director sat down to debrief them.
“I do, too,” Phil said. “Although I thought the Dan’s piano mic was a bit low.”
“We’ll fix that next run through,” the director agreed, “We could hear it in the back, but the screams were so loud that it was a bit of a strain to make it out.”
“Ah, the screams,” Dan laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have any hearing left after this tour!”
“You love it,” Phil stated simply.
“As do you!” Dan retorted with a big grin.
“I do think the bants were on point tonight, gentlemen,” the director interjected, “You were really great out there.”
“Thanks,” they both replied.
“We had a few technical issues that I won’t bore you with, but overall, I think the show went very well. I’m glad this is the one we decided to film.”
“Thanks, Rob,” Dan said, “I agree. The crowd was on fire!”
“Well, you boys wind down,” the director said as he stood and walked towards the door, “I have a few more meetings to sit through. Have a good night!”
“Thanks Rob,” they said in unison.
After the door closed, they sat silently for a moment, each still abuzz with energy yet exhausted at the same time.
“You really were great tonight,” Phil enthused. “Your dance moves were hilarious.”
“Haha!” Dan laughed, “Thanks, mate.”
“I need a shower,” Phil said.
“Nooo,” Phil whined, “I said it first!”
“I called it. Too bad, so sad!”
“Fine, then I’ll just take a nap. Good luck with the water pressure!” Phil said as he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.
“Good luck with sleeping on that couch that rock stars have had sex on and no one has ever cleaned,” Dan taunted as he headed towards the shower.
Phil jumped up, “Ew!” He cried, shaking his arms and legs. “Gross!”
“Now you’re in for it,” Phil said, “because I’m not waiting for my shower after that comment. Make room, funny boy.”
“Phil, there’s not room!”
“Make room,” Phil said as he stripped off his shirt, “because I’m coming in hot!”
Phil ran past Dan and into the bathroom.
Dan jogged in and found Phil adjusting the temperature.
“Not too cold!” Dan said.
“I know how to do it!’ Phil said, over-enunciating.
“Last time, I was freezing.”
“Last time, you stood there so long we ran out of hot water,” Phil corrected.
“Oh, yeah,” Dan admitted, “I forgot.”
They both stripped the rest of the way down and squeezed into the medium-sized shower.
The water was nice and warm and Phil ducked down and wet his hair. Then he stepped back and let Dan in front while he grabbed the shampoo.
The routine was well-established. The dance was well-rehearsed. They didn’t even need to speak after all these years of sharing a shower when they were in a hurry.
The order of washing and rinsing was pre-determined. It only took them 10 minutes and both were done.
But as Phil went to step out of the shower, Dan held the curtain closed.
“What?” Phil asked, confused.
“Okay,” Phil said, looking at Dan. “What’s up?”
“No talking, just look into my eyes,” Dan said.
“Dan, I’m getting cold….”
“Shh. Look at me,” Dan said again.
Phil looked into Dan’s eyes.
Phil blinked a few times, thinking maybe it was a staring contest, but Dan didn’t say anything.
Dan was remembering the first time they had walked onto a stage together. Phil’s stage fright had been so bad then that he had vomited back stage. Dan had consoled him and told him to look into his eyes while talking him through some breathing exercises to calm him down.
Phil was remembering their first long discussion on Skype. How Dan would look at Phil instead of into the camera and how he had to teach him to shift his gaze upward so Phil could see his beautiful brown eyes.
As the seconds ticked by, Dan inched closer to Phil.
“Dan, what are…” Phil began.
“Shh,” Dan said, taking Phil into his arms.
Dan never broke eye contact. Phil was used to intimacy with Dan, but this was more intense. He wanted to look away, yet at the same time, he found he was nearly hypnotized by Dan’s gaze.
Soon, their breathing was in sync. Phil began to grin. Dan returned the expression.
And they continued to stare.
Any chill from the cold air in the room was ignored now.
Any bit of post-show exhaustion was gone.
As the seconds turned to minutes, the two young men began to smile.
Dan gently massaged Phil’s shoulders and Phil rubbed Dan’s back.
Dan noticed Phil’s pupils were dilating a bit and felt his probably were as well.
Finally, after several minutes, Dan pulled Phil in for a full hug, breaking the gaze.
“Bear,” Phil began, then could only repeat, “my Bear.”
Dan pulled Phil in tighter.
They held the embrace for a few moments, then broke apart.
Dan opened the shower curtain and Phil slowly stepped out. Phil felt as if he had had a full night’s rest.
Later, on the bus, Phil texted Dan from the bunk below.
“What was that all about?”
“Sometimes, I can’t get enough of you. I don’t like sharing you. I want you all to myself.”
Phil reached his hand up and found Dan’s hand dangling down from his top bunk.
They squeezed each other’s hand for a moment.
“Sometimes, I get jealous when the crowd looks at you. I found you first.
And tonight, I just needed to feel close to you again.”
Phil typed back, “I am yours, you know. Just like you’re mine. No need to be jealous.”
“I know,” came Dan’s reply. “Can’t help it, though. You’re too cute.”
And so, the new post-show routine was established. And even though they never thought it possible, they grew even closer in mind, body, and spirit.
And the venues always ran out of hot water.
