Estrangements (Phan AU)

Gaunt

adjective

       • excessively thin as from hunger or age; looking grim or forbidding. 

Phil's not sure how long he spends at his desk in the office that day, glued to his computer screen as he pours over information he knows he shouldn't be absorbing. He feels guilty and awful and his stomach coils every time he thinks about what he's doing, but he can't bring himself to stop until he's interrupted.

"Phil?" the familiar voice of his director cuts in. He turns to face Shaun at the sound, trying to keep the guilt from his features as he smiles charismatically and shuts off his screen.

"Did you need something?" he prods when Shaun spends a moment too long watching him hesitantly. The older of the two men opens his mouth like he's about to say something, frowning as an unreadable tint fills his bright blue eyes, before closing it and sighing heavily.

"You're going to this work function, right? The Christmas party?"

"Oh," Phil replies, because he hadn't actually been intending to go. He never attends these things, is always left shifting uncomfortably at the very idea of them, and it's even worse when it's something people almost always bring others too. Whether it's a date or a friend or three quarters of their extended family, nearly no one attends the holiday parties alone.

"Please," Shaun whines desperately. "You never do."

Phil is very much aware of just how often he denies the invitations. He is also very much aware of how horrible Shaun's been feeling ever since he found out about his son.

"I guess I could... see if I'm free," he relinquishes slowly, wincing at the idea of braving a room full of his colleagues alone. Shaun will be there, sure, and so will his family, but he can't very well spend the night clinging to his boss like a suck up or five year old child.

"Thank God," Shaun breathes, laughing kindly as he squeezes Phil's shoulder. "You can bring that hot date of yours, too."

"Hot date," Phil repeats, not even putting in the effort to make it sound like a question. He does, however, put in the effort to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, come on. Don't think I haven't noticed how much time you've been taking off lately." He pauses, takes on an almost hopelessly hopeful expression. "Please tell me I'm right. I've been waiting for this my whole life."

"I haven't been alive your whole life," Phil mutters grumpily under his breath. "And we're not dating."

Shaun only seems to perk up at that. "Ah. But you wish you were, right? Invite him, I'll put some feelers out and see if he's hoping for the same. By the end of the night you'll be making out under the mistletoe... or crying alone in your apartment."

Phil grumbles about it some more, but eventually agrees. Dan will almost definitely say no and Shaun will almost definitely be disappointed, resulting in Phil almost definitely not showing up at this stupidly early Christmas party (the third week of November, really?). Still, it's not like there's any physical harm in asking. Mental, maybe - considering Dan's penchant for aggressive verbal injury - but not physical.

He just hopes he can look Dan in the eye without the guilt eating him alive.