phan oneshots

ghostly (comedy)

summary: phil and his friends decided to visit a haunted house one night, running into a not so scary spirit named Dan.

"Don't be a baby."

"You go!" Phil's friend pouted. The four teenagers were stood outside an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, flashlight in everyone's grip.

"Is no one going in with me?" Phil asked, eyebrow raised. Phil never believed in the supernatural or any ghost story, and right now it was paying off. The boys stayed silent and Phil got enough of an answer: he was going in alone. He annoyedly huffed and tiptoed into the building, the door swinging shut behind him.

He jumped, grip around his flashlight tightening on instinct. The house was made of old wood, holes and peeling wallpaper surrounding the dark-haired boy.

He heard a noise, yelped, and slipped. The noise that followed after was the sound of Phil knocking a bookshelf over, every novel spilling out and nearly hitting him on the head. He was just about to calm down, telling himself it was nothing, until a voice rang out.

"Are you fucking serious?"

Phil full on screamed this time as it was a voice he did not recognize, and the owner of it came into view. He looked like Phil, with curly brown hair and eyes that matched his hair color. The only difference was he almost seemed see-through, and Phil was telling himself that maybe his edibles just hadn't completely worn off yet, until the stranger spoke again.

"I just finished putting those in alphabetical order by author. Took me, like, an hour. Then again, I have eternity here, but still- dick move." The stranger wasn't phased by Phil at all as he began picking up the books surrounding the fallen boy. Phil stayed on the ground, frozen in confusion. "Are you going to get up? I cant touch you, you know. I'll go right through you."

"Are you a gh-gh-ghost?"

"Are you Shaggy or something? What's with the stutter? And what, you can't tell by my shiny sequence?" Dan chuckled as Phil stood on shaky legs. "Well, you can go now. Tell your friends you saw a ghost, they'll just think you're still high."

"How did you-"

Dan turned away from his shelf organizing to look Phil up and down, an amused grin on his pale face. "You reek of weed." With that he turned back around to fix the bookshelf.

Phil cursed under his breath and smelled his clothes, confirming Dan's statement. He dusted off his jacket and picked up his flashlight, turning it off. Phil went to leave but decided against it, wanting to know more about this. . . person?

"So how'd you get here anyway?"

"You mean how'd I die?" Dan questioned, continuing to place his books on the shelf. Phil hummed an agreement and Dan finished up his organizing to sit on a desk and look at Phil. "Honestly I barely remember. I was being stupid like you, came into this abandoned house. Probably fell down the janky ass stairs, honestly. I'm clumsy. Oh and by the way, I'm Dan."

"Phil," he responded. "How long have you been here?"

"I don't remember either."

"Doesn't that bother you? That so much of your memory is impaired?"

"I mean, it's just the memory of how I died. Everything else I remember. I know I had druggie friends and an on and off boyfriend-" Phil zoned him out, now focusing on the fact that this boy was into boys too! Then again, there wasn't really a reason to be excited. He's dead. But in Paris, it's legal to marry a corpse. Okay, that's weird, Phil's edibles definitely hadn't worn off yet- "Are you even listening?" Dan's voice cut off his uncomfortable thoughts and Phil jumped.

"No, sorry."

"Okay well. Your friends are probably wondering where you are. I'm gonna go back to doing what I do best: nothing." Dan began to walk off, almost seeming like he felt like a burden, but Phil went to grab him- his hand going through his arm. "I told you, you can't touch me! Jeez, I hate that feeling."

"That was so weird! It felt like- like-"

"Like a vibrator against your hand?"

"I mean-" Phil's face turned hot. "Yeah. . ."

"Oh don't act like you're some shy twink. I'm the twink in this house." Dan said challengingly. Phil stifled a laugh and shook his head.

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Phil asked after Dan began walking away again. He followed after him, watching him go up the stairs.

"Hell yea. But I was pretty lonely in my life too. It's nothing new."

"Do your parents know you're dead?"

"Jesus, you sound like one of those Buzzfeed quizzes I used to take when I was alive. So many questions." Dan teased, leaning on the railing at the top of his stairs. Phil admired him for a second, realizing how cute this ghost was. "They dont know I'm dead. Nobody knows for sure. They all just think I'm missing. Kinda sad actually."

"Oh," was all Phil could say. He went up the stairs to where Dan was and Dan just kept sauntering away, almost taunting him- like some treasure Phil had to catch. "What if I came to visit you a lot?"

"You mean like, friends?" Dan said the word as it were something he didn't know, some new vocabulary word added to his mental dictionary. But the shy smile on his face showed he wanted a positive answer.

"Sure. Like friends," Phil grinned, and maybe more, he said in his head.

"Okay," Dan flashed a toothy grin, his dimple dented into his cheek. "But if you knock my books over again, I'm gonna push you down the stairs and call it an accident."

"Sheesh," Phil breathed out. As if on cue, his friends called out his name from the outside.

"Go talk to real people now, weirdo," Dan locked eyes with Phil and he stood, almost going in for a hug before remembering he couldn't.

"See you soon."

"No rush. I've got eternity," Dan attempted to joke, but his tone had a not-so-subtle sadness to it. Phil vowed that he'd make Dan feel alive from now on, and give him something to think about rather than if his books were in the correct order.

Phil flashed him one last time, really forcing himself to leave as Dan was so nice to look at, and ran off.