phan one shots

thighs

Summary: Dan hates his thighs. Phil thinks they are beautiful.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: self deprecation, issues with body image, anxiety

Phil sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he stumbled into his apartment, his being drained from the excessive amount of social interaction he'd forced himself through for half the day. Phil had no qualms with his friends PJ and Sophie, who had happily invited him to a small gathering at PJ's house. He was simply an introvert, and while he enjoyed talking to people and being around others, too much exposure to such things took all of his energy, and as expected, after a certain time constraint, he was itching for the chance to return home, and perhaps have a late night with his boyfriend Dan. So, once the house party finally began to break up, he bid a polite farewell, and hauled a taxi home. His jeans felt uncomfortable hugging his legs, his button up shirt stuffy, and he longed for the softness of his polyester pajamas. It was the first thing he did when he clumsily tripped over his own feet as he entered his home, remembering to shout out that he had returned so Dan would know it was him, before rushing to his colorful bedroom, decorated with posters, plushies, and board games.

He hurriedly unfastened his shirt and yanked the material off, pulling his skinny jeans over his ankles, and threw on a loose Friends shirt and emoji pants, brushing his ebony locks back into a slightly unkempt quiff. Satisfied, he stretched his lanky, pale arms over his head, and searched the apartment for a certain curly haired man.

"Dannnnnn?" He called out, his name drawling on his tongue as he trudged down the carpeted halls. "Daniel, my dear, where art thou?"

"Nerd."

He turned his head to find him peeking out of a crack in his bedroom door, his eyes heavily lidded and dark lashes dipping sleepily over the pools of melted chocolate, his cheeks slightly flushed, as though he had just woken up from a nap.

He smiled, a soft curve of his candy stained lips, and twirled over to him on the tips of his toes. His nimble fingers grasped Dan's gently sloping shoulder, pulling him all the way into the hallway, and he pressed a light kiss to his forehead, heart swelling at the dimple that dented his cheek at his touch.

"Hello dear." He greeted, his voice floating over Dan's consciousness like a lullaby, and he straightened up, his height stretching a few inches above his boyfriend.

"Hi," He hummed in response, pushing his door closed. "How was the party?"

Phil shrugged, and nudged him, gesturing for Dan to follow him to the lounge. He obliged immediately, trailing after him with a fondness etched into the plains of his face.

"It was alright," He said, his hand grazing over the railing of the staircase. "PJ showed me some of his newer projects and creations, so that was fun. And he had some awesome snacks."

"And you stayed in the corner eating them all?" Dan guessed before Phil could continue, and he held up his finger, a twinkle in his ocean eyes.

"Correct! You know me so well."

Dan laughed gently, shaking his head. He took a seat next to Phil on the couch, the artificial lighting casting shifting shadows over his cheekbones, and the soft curves of his exposed collarbones. He immediately raised his arm, making room for Dan to lay on him. He scooted into his warmth, familiar body pressed to his, and intoxicating scent wrapping around him, a blanket of safety.

He made a tiny noise in the back of his throat when Phil pulled them both down onto the cushions, but the position was one they assumed often. Though he was the taller of the two of them, he curled up on top of him like a cat, and clutched at his clothes, listening to the thud of his heart behind his rib cage.