Dan Howell
"I was just, I, was checking why you were uh, taking so long." Holy fuck, Phil looks tempting right now. His hair has gotten slightly messy and his eyes almost overdraw the pastel blue on the walls. His shirt is resting next to him, and he is slightly leaning back against the bed. His collarbones peek out, not disgustingly overboard like mine and my eyes travel to his perfectly shaped hips.
"I was just putting on the bandage," he nods his head towards the bandage and his hair bounces a little when he does that. Is he doing this on purpose?
"Let me help you," I basically force him to let me help, as I take the bandage from him and deliberately stand closer to him. I can feel his breathing patter change as I rip the bandaid, and put it gently on his forearm.
"Thanks," he looks up at me, and I loose my voice. When his lips curve up slightly to give me a smile, I loose the little bit of self control that I had. I lean into him, pressing my mouth against his. I can feel his body going rigid for a moment in shock, but it takes him less than five seconds to respond and he begins to move his lips against mine. His lips are slightly chapped and I taste the mint we had after lunch in his mouth. My hands travel up to his chest and to his cheeks where I cup them, and pull his face closer to mine. I can feel his hands almost shaking as he places them on my hips, drawing me in towards him, as I stand between his legs.
He is still leaning against the bed and I take a step back so he is standing to his full height. I pull away from him and he whimpers when I press my lips against his neck. He lets out a small moan as I suck on his skin, his eyes closing shut.
"Dan we shouldn't," He argues, but groans when I trail kisses up his neck, along his jaw and behind his ear. His skin is hot as my hands go down and around his waist. I can feel his bare chest flush against mine as I kiss him again, slipping my tongue in his mouth, letting my hands go further and squeeze his behind as he wraps his arms around my neck. His fingers tug at my hair and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth making me grunt in his mouth.
The loud ring of a cellphone causes Phil to abruptly pull away and he quickly turns around not making eye contact with me. I curse under my breath and run my hands through my hair.
"H-Hi, PJ," Phil stutters, coughing afterwards and running a hand through his hair, just like I did seconds ago.
"No I am, I mean we are attending the class we'll be there in, uh, ten minutes." He says, and I sigh looking down at my jeans. Fuck dicks and their stupid fucking boners. I pull my shirt down to hide it, and watch Phil as he pulls the sweatshirt over his head and his back muscles strain. He is not helping my boner.
"Uhm, we should go," Phil squeaks in a tiny voice and I just nod unable to say anything after what just happened. It normally isn't that awkward when I make out with people. Maybe it's the fact that both of us were sober and actually knew what was going on.
Yeah that's definitely it, because Phil isn't anything special is he? Yeah I liked spending time with him but now I don't think he is more than any acquaintance or a hook up.
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Why am i even writing this fic