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The ringing phone gave Miles a sharp zing of joy, and he answered it at once.
“You’ve arrived,” he said, in lieu of a hello.
“Well, hello to you, too,” came Phoenix’s tinny voice, “And, yeah. They’ve put me up in a pretty fancy hotel. They even have a charging port for my phone!”
Miles blinked.
“That should be standard in most hotels,” said Miles cautiously.
“Well. It’s a higher standard than I’ve been used to,” Phoenix admitted.
Miles shook his head, a smile growing across his face.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Miles said honestly.
“You too,” Phoenix said gently, “I’m showered, I’m pajama’d, I’m ready to sleep. Conference begins early tomorrow.”
“Yes, I am getting ready for bed myself,” Miles replied, holding the phone with his chin as he fussed with the things on his nightstand.
Phoenix sighed over the line, his breath fuzzing up the receiver.
“Wish we could do that together,” he said a bit wistfully.
“As do I,” Miles said, a pang of longing in his chest.
He hestitated, then scoured through his closet for his light blue body pillow, that had been gathering dust since he and Phoenix started spending most nights together.
There was silence, but for the scrabbling of phone speakers trying to adjust to all the commotion, while they both slid into bed on opposite sides of the country.
Miles wrapped his arms and legs around his old pillow. He had once slept with it every single night, was it always so...small? And cold? He shivered a little.
He heard Phoenix yawn over the line.
“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Phoenix asked, voice heavy with sleep.
Miles plunked his forehead down into his body pillow.
“Catching up on a mountain of paperwork,” Miles answered, “Joy of all joys.”
“What was that? You cut out for a second.”
“Paperwork,” he repeated, “Lots of paperwork.”
“You sound a bit...muffled,” Phoenix noted.
“What?”
“You sound muffled,” he repeated, “Like you’re speaking into your pillo-okay, what the hell is that sound.”
Miles suddenly froze the hand that was slowly stroking the side of the body pillow. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“Oh,” said Miles, caught out, “Well.”
“It sounds like you’re sandpapering our bed,” Phoenix noted with amusement.
There was a slight pause.
“Please, tell me you are not sandpapering our bed,” Phoenix said, worry encroaching into his voice.
“No, of course not,” Miles said with indignation, “It’s a body pillow.”
“A what?”
“A body pillow,” Miles repeated, “I sleep with it often.”
A puzzled silence.
“I have never seen you sleep with one of those,” Phoenix remarked.
“Well, of course you haven’t,” Miles said, burrowing his forehead back into the top of the pillow, “I don’t use it while you’re here, because...your body is the best thing to hold through the night.”
“Oh,” Phoenix said, a short, breathy laugh coming through the phone, “Should I be jealous?”
Miles scoffed. “By all rights, the pillow should be jealous of you.”
He sighed.
“It’s not the same,” he murmured into the phone, “It’s a poor substitute for the real thing...but it does help. I do not want to have sleepless nights for the entire time that you’re gone.”
“Neither do I,” Phoenix said, and then there was a frankly absurd amount of rustling coming through the receiver, ruining Miles’ sense of vulnerable calm.
“What are you doing,” he asked suspiciously.
“This hotel room has five pillows,” Phoenix explained, “I’m holding one of them in my arms. So I can hold you back.”
It was just words. He knew that. But his body still reacted, in a muted way, to the verbal embrace of his partner.
He ducked his head and exhaled, feeling the warmth of love over the distance.