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Dan has more marks than Phil.
Phil knew he would before he’d actually seen Dan naked, because he knew himself, and he was starting to know Dan. Dan loved easily; he felt things unreservedly. Phil wasn’t like that. He cared a lot, he cared all the time about so many people, but never the way Dan did. Dan could find romance in most people, even without meaning to. It didn’t mean quite so much for a mark to appear on Dan, because he got infatuated all the time. But for Phil it meant an awful lot.
It was so terrifying, what he was starting to feel for Dan. It was heavy and full and completely unlike how he’d felt about his other three marks. His other marks always stuck in his head as unimportant, undeveloped and unrequited, chronologically. The first was his first real crush; most people wound up with that mark, because when you’re a child your emotions are all so full and raw and unguarded. The second was just a shadow of what love is supposed to be; it had never been fully realised or understood and sometimes Phil didn’t even entirely understand why he was marked by it at all. The third spoke for itself.
And then there was Dan. It was only a matter of time before Dan’s mark appeared on him somewhere; he knew it already. A small part of him was so scared that he wanted to run; to cut Dan out of his life right now. It would be easy, really. Dan was hours away; all Phil would have to do was block him on social media. But the only thing more terrifying that being with Dan was the idea of doing exactly that. So he didn’t. He waited, calling Dan on Skype at least once every day, texting him constantly, seeing him briefly whenever he could and drinking in every single moment that he had where he got to be with Dan in person. The worst part about all of it was how desperately he wanted the mark to be his left ring finger. The ‘real’ mark. The soulmate mark. Not everyone got one, he knew that, of course he did. But what he had with Dan, it felt just real enough, just permanent and full enough, that he dared to consider it.
He’d already seen his own mark on Dan. It’d appeared weeks ago inside his elbow. Phil had been sitting on his bed, watching Dan hand him a cup of coffee because honestly the boy was a saint, and there it was. The tiny, unique little shape that Phil knew had to be his own without having to look too hard at it, right there on the junction between Dan’s left forearm and upper arm. He hadn’t said anything, but he was sure Dan had noticed him noticing, because that had been when Dan had finally kissed him. It felt right in a way that kissing someone hadn’t felt in a very long time. He’d expected butterflies and dizziness and desperation, but he got the exact opposite. He hadn’t been able to stop; Dan’s lips were a little chapped and his hair was a little dry under Phil’s fingers but the world fell away around them and everything felt so calm and quiet that Phil didn’t care about Dan’s textures.
They were lying in bed together, after the events that had made Phil understand what exactly the distinction was between having sex and ‘making love’.
“I want all your stories.” He whispered into Dan’s neck, his right hand on the curve of Dan’s waist where a lighter mark lay. Dan had ten. Phil had counted now. And Phil was not his left ring finger person, but he still wondered if maybe Dan was his, and if maybe this would be enough anyway. “I want to know about the people who got you to love them.” Dan laughed, light and clear, and balanced himself up on his elbow. Phil rolled onto his back, looking up at Dan and marvelling at how handsome Dan was in the thin rays of light coming in through the cracks in the blinds.
“I don’t think it’s always ‘love’ for me exactly, Phil. Not like that anyway. I’ve only ever been properly in love once before. I think maybe there’s something messed up in my skin, and it appears when I just get all… gooey over someone.”
“I guessed that. You’re eighteen, you can’t have been in love ten times, surely.” And you couldn’t possibly be in love with me. Not yet. “But I still want to know about them all.” Because I want to know all the pieces of you.
Dan smiled down at him, soft and small. His hair was curling and one earring had fallen out somewhere the evening before. Phil felt his left finger tingling as he looked at Dan. He didn’t dare look away from Dan’s face to confirm anything.
“Okay, but you have to tell me yours as well.” Dan told him.
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Dan threw himself back down onto the bed next to Phil, moving to lie his head down on Phil’s chest. “This one is you, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that story.” He said, his finger gently pressing that little mark on his inner elbow that Phil was already familiar with.
“No, I don’t.” Their eyes met, and Dan’s smile looked as wide as Phil’s felt. “Glad I made the cut.”
“So am I.” Dan told him, eyes growing softer yet as he shuffled his body a little closer to Phil’s. “This one was Lizzie. I liked her for ages in primary school...”
Dan continued to tell the stories of all nine non-Phil marks, and Phil let them all soak in. Stories about when Lizzie broke his heart for the first time in the playground area. Stories about Dan when he was five in the sandpit and a pretty redheaded little girl had kissed him and said they were going to get married. Stories about Dan being twelve and head-over-heels for a boy in the year above. Phil’s left ring finger burned a little more with every word Dan spoke. When Dan finished his final story, he looked at Phil expectantly and hopefully, so Phil launched into his own tales. Dan’s fingers lightly traced each mark as Phil spoke about it. Phil wondered if he felt any same feelings Phil had felt listening to Dan’s stories. Mostly he’d felt affection for Dan and a bit of sadness for the ones that hadn’t worked out and the hurts Dan had felt, but there was a tiny bit of jealousy underneath it all as well. He knew it was a little unfair, because he hadn’t known Dan at the time and he didn’t deny Dan any of the happiness he’d felt for the others, but he couldn’t help it. Dan didn’t look jealous, but Dan could still hide from him sometimes if he really wanted to, so it was hard to tell.
When Phil had finished his final story, Dan was visibly getting sleepy again, so Phil took the opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom. He didn’t really need to go, he just needed a moment on his own to confirm his suspicions. He held his hands in the sink, turning on the cold water to ease the burning a little.
There it was; right there on his left ring finger. Dan’s symbol, burned deep and dark and permanent. He held it under the cold water for a long moment, appreciating the way that soothed that sensation. Although, he would be lying if he said he actually minded the burning that much, considering who was causing it.
When he returned to his bedroom, Dan had fallen asleep. His left arm was sprawled over Phil’s side of the bed, which was rather inconveniently between Dan and the wall. He moved around to the floor of the bed, preparing to climb onto it from there to try and disturb Dan less. As he got closer, his eyes couldn’t help but move straight to Dan’s inner elbow, gravitating towards the place that confirmed that Dan did feel for him, even if it wasn’t the same. But the mark seemed considerably lighter than before. It was fading. For a moment, Phil felt like his legs had been knocked from under him. He crawled onto the bed to make sure he didn’t actually fall over. In a moment of last desperate hope, he glanced down to Dan’s left hand…
…and saw his mark reforming deep and dark on the ring finger.