Phan One Shots

Are you homophobic?

Description: Dan goes to get a tattoo of the gay pride flag and wonders if his cute tattoo artist, Phil, is a homophobe or part of the LGBT+ community.

Ages:
Dan: 19
Phil: 23

Year: 2019

I opened the black door and stepped inside the tattoo shop. I breathed out heavily and smiled to myself. Today was the day I was getting something that represented me. A gay pride flag. In case you haven't realized, I'm Dan Howell, an openly gay guy from England. I was made fun of a lot as a child for liking people of the same gender, but my parents have always been supportive of me. They never caring who I loved, they just wanted me happy. Sadly, most people weren't as accepting of my sexuality as my parents. I was bullied endlessly, moving schools multiple times. But it was something about myself I couldn't change. At the age of fourteen my mum bought me a gay pride flag for my birthday, telling me she and my father would always love me no matter what. Since that day, I knew it was something I wanted to keep with me until I died.

I walked up to the counter and made eye contact with a tall, blue eyed man. He had snakebites, a gold septum hoop, a gold stud on his left nostril, and a double eyebrow bar. He had black gauges, multiple cartilage piercings, and tattoos all over his exposed arms and neck. His black hair has a died deep blue fringe. He was attractive to say the least. I felt a tad uncomfortable in my white skinny jeans and pink Polo shirt.

The man raised his pierced eyebrow. "How may I help you... sir?"

I narrowed my eyes. Has this man never seen a guy wear pink? It's not that big of a deal. Does he think I'm a woman? "I'm here for a tattoo. I booked an appointment last month with a guy named Phil." I seethed.

The tension was thick in the air. It was full of uncertainty and distrust. "That's me." Phil said flatly.

Phil walked out from behind the counter and motioned for me to follow. I obliged and sat in a gray chair. Phil cleaned his needles and prepared for the tattoo. "What was it you wanted?" Phil asked.

"A pride flag on my wrist." I said, holding out my right wrist.

"So you're gay?" Phil questioned.

"What does it matter to you if I am or not!" I snapped.

Phil's head reeled back at my bitter tone. "Relax mate. I'm just asking."

"Why?" Phil looked at me questioningly, not certain of what I was asking him. "Why do you care of I'm gay or not?"

Phil smiled, making my heart flip in my chest. "Because I wanted to make sure a cute guy like you would go out with me."

My mouth fell open.

"Due to your choice of clothing," Phil continued, "I wasn't sure if you identified as a male or a female. I now realize that's not the best way to ask." Phil laughed to himself at his own stupidity.

"Oh." I said softly, looking down at my lap. I was so rude to him. "Yeah, sorry about snapping. I just get made fun of a lot..." I trailed off.

Phil smiled at me sympathetically and rubbed alcohol on my wrist to clean the skin. "I'll forgive you on one condition." Phil smirked at me cheekily.

"What?"

"Go out with me."

I smiled. "Of course."