Fluffy Phan One-Shots

Radioactive Leak Pt. 2

*Dan's point of view*

"Turn around," I thought for a moment, "Slowly," I decided. I scanned his body as I looked him up and down.

His legs and arms were normal sized, so I guessed he didn't work out at all. He was quite skinny, so I wondered if he had a job where was constantly walking around? Healthy diet? High metabolism? Usually people with a form like this are quick runners, lucky there.

I noticed he dropped a pistol, a Ruger 22 from the looks of it. I wondered if he carried it because he was smart- it was a quieter gun- or because he found it from sheer dumb luck.

He was wearing all black, which could be used as an aesthetic or- I was hoping the latter- he was layering up. Layering up is a smart move when things are biting at you. He was wearing battered up tennis shoes, I was guessing he was ready to take off any moment. I could see a pocket knife shaped bulge in his pocket, I kept that in mind.

His hair was a jet black, which, the more I thought about it, probably meant that the black clothing was for aesthetic purposes. I noticed his skin was the same color as the light snow falling outside. Good thing it was winter, if we were going to be outside constantly, I didn't want to hear the whining of sunburn.

Once he completely turned around I was blown away with how blue his eyes were. They were the deepest part of the ocean you could imagine. Then, towards his pupil, they turned to the green seaweed, rippling through the water. They were wide though, a sign of fear.

You may be wondering, how the hell can you read someone his well?
Well, I ended up going to law school and being number one in my class. I was a lawyer for a while until I unexpectedly changed jobs and became an FBI agent. Reading people and their habits early on was part of my job. I've gotten to know a lot about guns over the years too, so the AK-47 on my back, and the Maxim 9 in my hands were easy to come by.

Although all the breath was taken from me by this boys beauty, I held my ground, and remained calm.
"What's your name?" I asked, I made sure to keep the gun aimed right at his dick, just as I promised. He put his fingers to his lips and then pointed at his penis, then he made a blowing up motion. A.K.A, Can't talk, or you'll blow my dick off. I sighed and moved my gun to his head. "You can speak now," I was getting impatient. "Smartass." I muttered under my breath. Although, I did admire the way he was so sarcastic even though he could die any second.

"Phil Lester. What's yours?" He wondered, he was seeing how far he could push me, and I knew it. This wasn't the first time it's been tried with me. He smirked at me
"Is there anyone with you? Or are you all alone?" I asked, I wasn't about to take in twenty other guys waiting around the bend of the road. I noticed him swallow hard, a tricky subject for him.
"No." His smirk was gone, that's how I could tell he was telling the truth. His sharp wit was replaced by resentment.
"Well then, where are you headed to?" I narrowed my eyes. I wondered if he was on his way to the Manchester eye, that's where anybody smart was heading too.
"Same place as you." He shrugged, I glanced down at the duffel bag on the ground.
"What's in the bag?" I frowned, anything important?
"See for yourself." He smiled.

I was about to fall right into his trap, until I noticed the bulge in his pocket was gone.
"Pocket knife." I held out my hand, he handed it right to me with a sigh. I grabbed his gun and started to look through the bag.

There wasn't much other than a tent, a few granola bars, a few water bottles, and an Olympia shotgun. Not too shabby. I placed the bag on my shoulder and zipped up my coat. I grabbed the keys off the table. Luckily, my Mercedes Benz was quiet.

I knew I wasn't going to get too far with the car, but hey, there had to be somewhere around here to camp.
"Come on, we're leaving." I dangled the keys in front of his face. He followed me out the door and I opened the garage door, getting in he car.
"You know, you still haven't told me your name.. and will I ever get my gun and knife back?" He asked sitting next to me.

I ignited the engine and we crash through the garage door. 
"My name's Daniel Howell," I though about my next words. "And maybe, together, we'll make it through this."