Hate Me Closer (Phan)

Chapter Sixty-Five

It was the early weeks in March and a black-haired seventeen-year-old stood in front of a shorter boy, both of them with their arms around their stomachs and their gazes to the floor. They were outside of Crossings house, the oldest boarding house in Auburn Independent School for Boys, and where they'd shared their nights for the past two years, or four for Phil.

You see, the sixteen-year-old joined the house when he was forced to move in with an annoying boy whom he'd bullied for a year and a half, following a series of deaths in his family. He had no way of knowing that he'd fall in love with that boy and could blame his entire survival on him.

"Phil Lester." that boy whispered, a small on his face as he stood away from his suitcases.

"You'll have to make sure your college has a piano. When I hear from you again, I don't want to learn you've given it up." Phil laughed about it but he was completely serious.

"I'm not giving it up," Dan shook his head, inches away from the taller boy, "not in a million years." he let his head fall against his best friend's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his back.

Phil hesitated for a moment, but then his hands grabbed at Dan's waist and desperately pulled the younger boy closer. He hated this. He hated it so fucking much and they both knew it, "You'll love it there." he swallowed.

"Um..." Dan sighed, pulling himself away and moving into his pocket, "Here." he pulled out a small, copper key and placed it into his boyfriend's palm.

"The key?"

"To the storage cupboard." Dan confirmed, sighing as he let the piece go, "I mean, I won't need it. You guys might need it for PJ's films or whatever."

"Stop this. Please." Phil begged, "Both of us." water formed beneath his pupils.

"It's just...it's easier to dance around saying it," Dan admitted.

"Goodbye, Dan." the blue-eyed boy looked directly at his friend and slipped the key into his jeans, and instead took the chin of the smaller boy in his fingertips, "It's okay to say goodbye because this is what you want. That's okay. I want this for you."

Dan nodded, "I've known you for four years." he whispered, "Could've lived through World War Two in that time."

"So you did remember something from History?" Phil giggled, pressing their foreheads together as the spits of rain began to fall.

Dan laughed, the lighter brown shades in his eyes lighting up until they seemed to be as reflective as diamonds, "The only thing." their amusement fell and they pressed their lips together, moving their hands so they could grasp the fabric of their jumpers until there was barely a centimetre between their bodies at any point. Dan had learnt the taste of Phil and that didn't just count for his mouth, but the older boy could say the same.

"You smell like my shampoo." Dan noticed, furrowing his eyes.

"And you smell like mine, but don't you think that's ironic because we swapped in our first year together, so now we're just back to where we started?"

"I suppose." Dan nodded, "Phil...I really need to go."

"Right." the black-haired boy sighed, "Um...goodbye."

Dan let his grasp falter away as he stepped back, grabbing the handles of his suitcases and passing his best friend a nervous smile, "Bye, Phil. I, l-" he hummed, "I learnt a lot from you, you know?"

Phil nodded, looking down at the pebbled path.

"Look after Chris for me, right?" he could email his friends, but he knew it would only be a responsibility and a chore, in the long run. If they were going to need to part it would be easier to go cold-turkey and try and to forget about them now.

"I will." Phil laughed.

"Bye, Phil." Dan repeated, slowly turning away as he let his fringe fall over his eye to protect him from the slowly increasing rain.

"Bye." Phil nodded, twisting the key in his pocket.

Red brick seems colder when you're walking away from it, after you learned to love it. The walls felt like home because, to Dan, they were, and they always would be no matter how many miles of sea were between them. He turned away completely, pacing down the pathway beneath the light grey skies to meet Kath behind the school gates. He'd made this walk hundreds of times, but this one felt as long as it did the first time he dragged himself down it.

He remembered everything: every jumper, every pen, every textbook, all but a sheet of music that was left at the piano in the Great Hall. PJ would find it later in the evening and fold it up, delicately placing it in his pocket until he gave it to Phil when he would have found it again a week later, just as he was putting the clothing to wash.

Phil would take it from him, cradle his body over the paper and cry away from the ink markings scribbled away from the page as to not damage it or smudge it in any way. He'd leave it in the front pocket of his suitcase, found again years on scrumpled up, along with a single copper key.

But, until then, Dan walked out of the school gates, smiling painfully at Phil's mother as she held him in her grasp, "It's okay, Dan. I know it's hard...I know..." she'd reassure him, letting the young boy cry into her cotton cardigan.

"I couldn't tell him I loved him." Dan whispered, "It would've been the final goodbye, but it's like I don't believe it is."

Hate Me Closer.