Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Twelve

*Dan's POV*

Of course I realized any hug lasting longer than ten seconds was probably not something that fit comfortably under the label of 'casual platonic embrace', but I also realized that it was in our best interest to make it seem as far from platonic as possible, regardless of what awkwardness it'd bring about for us afterward. If Phil happened to take some unproven fact away from this, like assuming I had some secret well-hidden cuddly streak, that was his problem. I was just doing what I had to to keep his stupid oblivious ass alive.

That also brought me to the lingering concern in the back of my mind of figuring out when exactly I'd started to care whether he was drawing breaths or not, aside from needing his help with the split rent, but that was something anyone could do if I managed to find another roommate. But there was a reason I'd shoved that thought back there in the first place, I didn't want to think about it almost as much as I didn't want to admit something had changed in the first place. Nope, nothing had changed here, we were exactly the same as the day he'd moved in, clearly.

As much as I wanted to believe that, it was even harder than usual to deny the subtle shift in our relationship when his arms were wrapped around my torso in a constant argument against me.

It'd been a long time since I'd found myself in an embrace such as this one, and despite the fact I wanted to be repulsed and shove him away the second I deemed it safe for his health to do so, I couldn't really say I minded it. I didn't love it or anything, I wouldn't look for excuses to draw him close again, and I refused to admit it could be a person-specific thing either, but I didn't dislike the hug. Aside from awkward side hugs or one-armed squeezes, I hadn't been this close to another person in a long time.

I always told myself the lack of physical contact I had with other humans was out of my own bidding because I preferred it that way, but maybe that was another one of those lies I told myself so I wouldn't feel so bad. The more time I spent around Phil the more of these lies I was starting to uncover, I didn't like having to question my fragile self-centered existence, things were easier when they just continued on exactly how they had been.

I jumped as Phil shifted against me, realizing a moment later than he intended to back away from me. Of course he did, we'd been hugging for nearly a minute now, that definitely wasn't normal and even someone as clueless as him could figure that out. That didn't stop me from blushing furiously in embarrassment though, biting my bottom lip and pulling it back between my teeth in an effort to keep my face from showing any other reactions.

Unlike what I'd expected, he didn't pull away all the way, lifting his conjoined hands over my head and pausing to awkwardly pat his wrists against my head, just below where the towel rested. He was patting the top of my head like I was a dog or something, smiling a stupidly comforting grin that I found myself glaring at before I could stop myself. What else did I really expect from someone like him? I had half a mind to snap at him for messing up my hair, sliding my hands away from his sides in an effort to smooth down the mess he'd made of it.

He seemed oblivious to my appearance related worries though, moving his hands to rest again my knee lightly like he took extra care to make sure his blood wouldn't stain my clothes, yet he wasn't ready to break our physical connection quite yet. The same concern from earlier was still flooding his eyes as he leaned forward slightly and studied my face closely. The seconds ticked by and my cheeks threatened to heat up under his intent gaze again, so I rushed to open my mouth and blurt something that'd make him back off, but he spoke quickly like he could tell what sort of thing I was about to say.

"How do you feel now? Better?" He asked hurriedly, like he had to know the answer before he could allow me to change the subject. I debated what to respond for a second, knowing my usual reply would be something guarded and potentially hurtful as I rejected the affection I hadn't even asked for. Then again, this time I had asked for it, if only to keep him out of harm's way, he deserved to hear his comforting had done something, even if it hadn't actually achieved anything. He'd thrown away a successful conversation with some woman he could have been genuinely interested in, solely to help me out. Had I actually been bothered by something he could have fixed, I'm sure he would have.