gay//phan oneshots

II. : Fridge

(A//N : My neighbour is playing v sad music on his piano that made my angsty senses to react. Grab 'yer tissues babes, the angst is coming hIDE YER KIDS HIDE YER WIFES *btw all my a//n are goingto be in bold*)

      "This photo is pretty, just like you! I will put it on my fridge!" , the blue-eyed man said. Daniel admired the photo multiple times; pastel-pink flowers framed delicately the two boys with lips interwined. The sun was making its way through some thin branches, giving the small image an aesthetically pleasant background.

      Pj's curls were tenderly caressing Dan's forehead, as their noses brushed against each other and their lips carefully danced together. Even though they've been dating for almost two years, the feeling of someone else's lips was still foreign to the brown-eyed male.
           Those lips weren't Phil's.
      As Pj's mouth attacked Dan's, he flinched. If Dan had to be honest;  Pj's faded and chapped (hit me up with dat mcr references boi) lips were nothing compared to Phil's pinkish, rose petals-like lips.

       Pj's blue eyes only had a boring, plain blue-highlighter colour, when Phil's irises were like a blue canvas, slightly covered in a deep green colour, and some sun splattered dots showing off around his pupils. Hell, Dan could write a whole 20-paged essay about Phil's eyes only! In Pj's eyes you had absolutely nothing to explore. But in Phil's eyes, you could daily find something new. The way they would grow bigger in happiness and slightly anger whenever Dan won another round of Mario Kart, the way his pupils will dilate whenever he stared at Dan's features. He would never forget the way you could drown in those deep, blue irises, but they could also bring you back to life.
      Good Lord, Phil was the actual meaning of a God. How his jet black hair made a strong, yet beautiful contrast with his pale skin. How his løvely eyes would bring so much colour and life in anyone's hearts, just from a simple look. Yes, Phil's eyes were so beautiful, a dictionary full of nice words still wouldn't be enough to describe the prettiness that once existed. Yet, deep down, there was an undiscovered story. Those bright eyes hid so much pain, so many memories, countless restless nights, but most importantly, the had an hidden chest full of insecurities, self-doubtness, an illegaly amount of selflessness and hurt. He faked it all too well, and that's what Dan hated the most. He was so blind looking at the door, that he didn't noticed that the world on the other side was crumbling, being torn apart and fading. Dan was unconsciously holding a living corpse in his weak arms.

      Once again, Pj's lips were now covering the other male's jawline in hot kisses, his hands roughly exploring his curls, and slowly coming back on sucking his face.
      After they were officially a couple, Dan became a machine. He would immediately respond to Pj's kisses, to his touches, to his voice, to Pj. He was going through a Hell of a relationship. Nothing was the way it was before. Before the incident happened, everything was perfectly fine. Phil would tell him daily that he loves him, Dan always giving the same, honest answer. Phil's touches were tender, always asking for permission to move themselves on the younger male's chest, when Pj's touches were almost violent, careless. Dan knew all to well that he was only Pj's toy, he played with and destroyed.
      'Phil was never like that' . This thought haunted his head days long.
    
      Little did Pj know that Dan knew his dirty, smutty secret. Dan already knew about all that sexting he did with Chris, all those nights he spent alone while Pj was casually butt-fucking with Chris at his place.

      He couldn't stop it. Some wet, salty tears carefully made their (Mickey/Gerard) way onto his red cheeks. Pj, of course had to notice them, and untangled his lips from his face.

      Once he saw Dan's tear-streamed face, he slapped him.

                 Like, really hard.

      Dan couldn' treact. He was (S H O O K) shocked, to say, at least. He couldn't take any steps, he was weak, so weak under Pj's touch. His voice was low, like it was fading with every breath his "lover" took. Those eyes that were once 'oh so blue' were now filled with darkness and anger.

      "Shush, you little baby (a//n dRINK YOUR SPOILED MILKKK) , why are you crying, you little wuss?". Pj's harsh voice was echoing in Dan's head. Before he could even say anything, a big hand found its way again to his cheek.

      "What's wrong, slutty? You don't like it when I'm a bad daddy to you?"

(A//n : v off topic but when i wrote "daddy" i had a cringe attack )

      Dan desperately moved his head multiple times to the left and right.

      "Well too bad, because your little, dumb prince is dead (*cough*by deadlight *cough cough*) . All your hopes, all your dreams, are now 6 feet under the ground, and you're left in my hands. You're my puppet, Daniel. Only mine."

      Now, Dan's fragile body was literally attacked. Pj's knees found their way to his stomach and masculinity, his hands roughly touching his chest and his mouth creating words, that hurt the most.

      Then the blue-eyed man left Dan alone on the floor, a sobbing mess. He had fresh cuts, mentally and psychically. It felt like his words were knives that left deep scars. His fragile arms (ich habe dich) were numb, his stomach felt like a few ribs were dancing in his chest and his tanned skin had lots of non-matching marks.

      Dan already felt the nice, now welcoming light coming near him. It was aproaching with slow steps, when a black light cut his whole mental image off and he...

He woke up.

      'It was all just a dream. Only a god-damned dream.

      Dan carefully looked around. White walls were holding him locked, a black door in the middle of one of them.

      He was lying on a bed, grey sheets wrapped around his torso, while his arms were out. The boy cautiously inspected his body with his fragile hands, feeling no pain. When he brought them up again, he noticed a white, thick bracelet on his thin wrist.

Mental Health Hospital Of Manchester Hall 20

Room 09

He was now cautious of what was happening:
    
      It was all only a dream, while he was 'trapped' inside this hell hole.

      There was no Phil. No Pj.

      Only him, his thoughts and this god-damned Hospital Room.

■■■

And END.

ugh this was so shit ugh burn it.

Btw the next chapter is gonna be fluff because i feel like i owe it to ya

Me rn:

aLSO CHECK OUT MY RANT BOOK "Random Shitz" TO KEEP UP WITH MY UPDATING SCHEDULE  (nice joke hoe, but that was the worst self promo i ever read)

Ugh this chapter was so bad soz