A LOT of people asked for this. Enjoy!
You suppose the eventual repossession of that now-famous yellow scarf was your fault. After all, you were the one that planted the insidious idea in Dan’s head that he should use it in the first place.
"Dan, the rubbish car’s coming tomorrow, you gotta take out the trash!"
You hear Dan groan from his spot on the couch, your boyfriend’s feet comfortably propped up on a mountain on pillows as he snuggles with his laptop. You smirk at the way the double-chin makes an amusing appearance in that position.
"But it’s cold outside, and I’m nice and comfortable here," Dan whines back, eyes never leaving his screen.
You spin around to place your hands on your hips, though the gesture is entirely lost on your oblivious boyfriend. “Well, you better bundle up then.”
Dan groans again from the couch, more loudly this time. “Can’t you do it for once?”
"For once?" Oh no, he did not just say that. “For once? Who took it out the last three times, huh?”
Dan mumbles out a response, but you shake your head. “What’s that? I can’t hear you.”
Dan sighs dramatically, finally muttering out, “You did.”
"Like hell I did." You turn back to the dinner you’re preparing. "Bundle up. Take out the trash."
Dan gives another long-suffering sigh, and you hear the creak of the couch as he finally stands up, grumbling the entire way. He grabs his Eskimo coat, flipping the furry hood over his flyaway hair. You smile as you hear him grab the trash and open the door, stepping outside into the freezing cold, still grumbling.
You hum softly to fill the sudden silence of the kitchen. When the door finally opens again, a flurry of snow blowing in, you look up, only for the growing smile to freeze on your face.
"What are you wearing?"
Dan looks down in confusion at that. “Um, warm stuff?”
You jab your finger at the piece of cloth wrapped snug around his neck. More specifically, your piece of cloth. “That’s my scarf.”
Dan flips his hood open, tugging on the wool scarf. “Yes, I know. It’s very warm, I may add.”
To be fair, he doesn’t look half bad with it. Better than you’d expect, in fact. “Well, it’s not yours. And put it back where it belongs. Don’t you dare throw it on the ground with the rest of your stuff.”
Dan rolls his eyes at that, but he complies, hanging the scarf on the little peg next to your other winter accessories. “Relax, it was just a one-time thing.”
You return the eye roll, though a crooked smile tugs on one side of your mouth. “It better,” you reply.
With such easy access to the scarf, hanging next to the door, you’ve started noticing a distinct absence of it whenever Dan takes out the trash, or even goes to the shops.
"What’s up with my scarf?" You finally ask him after he comes home, cursing under his breath at the heaviness of the grocery bags. "How come you keep stealing it?"
Dan looks down, as if just noticing that he’s wearing it. “I dunno, it’s soft, and it makes my neck all warm.” He opens his mouth as if to say something else, but quickly snaps it back shut, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.
"What?" You say, slightly bemused. "What else?"
Dan turns away from you, mumbling a slightly embarrassed, “Nothing,” as he puts away the groceries.
"Spit it out it."
You pout, standing up from the couch and walking over to wrap your arms around Dan’s waist from behind. You press your cheek to his back. “But Da-an…”
Dan sighs, turning around in your arms. The red darkens. “I… really like the way it smells.” He manages a bashful, meek smile. “It smells like you.”
You feel your own cheeks color at that, and you smile as you tug Dan down to your height by the scarf, nudging his nose a little bit before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a while.”
"Yeah?" Dan’s eyes crinkle with his laughter lines, a dimply smile spreading across his face. "I’m relieved."
After that, you didn’t have much of a problem with sharing your favorite scarf.
"Should I take these, or these?"
You glance up at Dan, your boyfriend looking at you with a serious expression on his face, two pairs of seemingly identical black trousers in his hands.
"They’re the same," you reply flippantly, going back to your phone.
"Babe, help me decide!"
You sigh in exasperation, nod even looking up when you reply, “the one on the right.”
"My right or your right?"
"So my left?"
You look up to glare at Dan, trying not to let a smirk break out when Dan meekly lowers the pants.
"On second thought, maybe I’ll take both," he finally mumbles out.
You hum disinterestedly at that. Dan gives a long sigh, running a distressed hand through his hair. “Why are we touring the north of North America in the winter? Does Dick hate us? It’s gonna be freezing!”
You shrug at that. “You better bundle up, then. Hey, have you packed your toiletries yet?”
After Dan goes to retrieve them, you roll off the bed quickly, pulling your yellow scarf out from under your pillow. You unzip a nook in the luggage, stuffing the scarf—along with a small piece of folded paper—into it, before zipping it back up and diving onto the bed, taking your phone back out.
Dan returns, casting a slightly irritated look in your direction. “Are you ever going to help?”
"But I’m so comfortable,” you say with a dramatic sigh, finally turning to look at Dan morosely.
Dan grumbles something unintelligible at that, turning away from you to continue packing. You go back to your phone, smiling.
Now you wait.
It comes the night after the first gig.
Your phone buzzes, directing your attention from the sappy movie you like to watch whenever Dan goes away on tour. You pause it, looking down at the snapchat picture. You smile at Dan’s wide-eyed expression and dimply smile, the scarf wrapped around his neck, as he holds up the folded note with the words “stay warm” written in your messy scrawl.
It still smells like you, the caption says, and you grin as you snap a quick picture back.
Miss you already. Don’t die in the snow!
You wait for a few moments, until a purple square appears. You tap it, giggling softly as Dan waves at the camera.
"Hey, babe, I’ll come back soon, okay? I love you!" He shouts, his breath frosting in the air, before leaning into the camera and puckering his lips, ignoring the roar of laughter in the background.
You sigh as you lean back on the couch, a smile still tugging on your lips.
Your scarf’s in safe hands. You know it.
~~~~~ winterisstorming ~~~~~