FLIRT (Phan)

trois

I blinked my eyes open, immediately blinded as sunlight streamed into my eyes. I was surprised to feel a strong pair of arms around me. Then the memories came back: Phil Lester. Right.

Oh fuck.

Instantly, I felt a pang of regret in my chest. What the hell was I thinking? I'd just stayed the night in a frat house after a one night stand with one of the most popular guys at Mansfield University. I couldn't think of a single thing more humiliating than that.

Carefully, I wriggled my way out of his arms without waking him and slipped back into my clothes from last night. I checked my appearance in the mirror: I was a mess. Last night's makeup was smeared, black lines running down my face and red lipstick stains around my mouth. I attempted to wipe away some of the damage, shooting a glance at the boy who was still in bed across the room. He seemed peaceful and, Jesus, he was beautiful. My eyes lingered on him for a minute, but I forced myself to look away.

Don't catch feelings. You're not that stupid.

I slipped downstairs and out the door unnoticed and headed back to the dorm. When I pushed the door of my room open, I found Chris in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hi," I yawned as I entered the room.

"Mmm," he groaned, rolling over to face me.

"Hangover?" I laughed, stripping to my underwear and crawling into my own bed.

"Where've you been?" Chris asked, ignoring my question, "You just kinda disappeared last night."

"Yeah, nice of you to just leave me like that," I teased.

"Nobody had seen you in a long time, I thought you'd already left," he defended, "I texted you."

I checked my phone. Dead. I plugged it in and laid back down as Chris began his interrogation.

"So where'd you go last night?" he asked.

"Nowhere," I shrugged.

"Please," Chris laughed, "You're a fucking mess. And the last time I saw you, you were with Phil Lester."

"Oh, yeah," I replied, trying to seem casual, though I could feel my face turning red. I grabbed a makeup wipe from my bedside table and began to scrub away my mug. 

"Well, spill," Chris insisted, "What happened? Did you get anywhere?"

"Anywhere?" I asked, a small smirk spreading across my face, "Honey, I got everywhere."

"Oh Jesus Chris," Chris exclaimed, his eyes widening, "You didn't-No way." I nodded, unable to keep the smile from my lips as Chris continued to freak out. "Holy shit! Wow, I-I can't believe it. The gay part, that's not surprising, but I always had him pinned as a bottom. I never would have thought-"

"What's that's supposed to mean?" I asked, shooting him a critical look.

"What do you think it means?" he laughed.

"I could top!"

"Bitch, please," he scoffed, "You wear false lashes. And I've seen your underwear drawer."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes at him.

"What was he like?" Chris asked, wide-eyed with curiosity once again.

"That's a little private, don't you think?" I asked.

"It's just girl talk," he pleaded, "I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours."