Phan Oneshots Smut and Fluff

Enemy #1: Phil's White T-Shirt

I watched Phil set up the camera, my foot impatiently tapping on the linoleum beneath me. My mouth opened as I thought to say something, but the moment he turned around I looked down pretending I hadn't been staring in the first place. I began fidgeting with the string on my swim shorts, trying to make it look like I was doing something.

"Are you ready?" I gulped as he drew closer. He shouldn't have been attractive god damn it. Why was he attractive to me? His swim shorts were neon green, such a heinous colour, yet they hugged his legs so nicely. He was also, of course, wearing a thin white T-shirt, which was the clothing item in particular that was causing me the most issues.

"I don't know, Phil, this video sounds weird," I mumbled an excuse as I realized he had been waiting for a response the entire time I gaped at him.

"Since when have you not liked weird?" He smirked casually while my heart raced. He had to be referencing himself, right? Liked. Just liked. As in friend liked. I wish I had chosen a different word to describe how I felt so Phil would stop applying it to himself, but he continued, "I personally, think weird is fine."

"You know I don't-" I started to defend myself, but he already knew I was going to say that as he said-

"Good, now hop in the tub!" and gestured at the jacuzzi bathtub that came with our hotel room. It was a terrible thing, really, which was not so terrible at first. No, at first, I was excited about the jacuzzi. I pointed it out, saying, "It's like our own personal hot tub!" and then Phil said something and I said something mentioning drinking and then something about a video and now here we were making a "hot tub" video while we answered questions our tour so far while we drank some wine.

The idea truly could have been an innocent one. We were two friends just sitting together in the jacuzzi, drinking alcohol, and pretending it was a hot tub because we were too antisocial to sit in the common area offered by the hotel. Our viewers would love it and it was funny, right?

Now the tub was full, steaming, and Phil came sauntering in with wine glasses and a bottle and that shirt. We had been trying to be modest for YouTube, and I wondered if Phil had thought about his shirt turning invisible the moment it got wet. My mouth went dry at the thought, provoking an embarrassing cough.

"Are you alright?" He frowned.

"Phil, are you sure you want to wear that shirt?" The words burst their way out of my mouth.

"Why not?" He looked down. "Ooooh, 'cause it'll be see-through?" He looked at the tub, then the camera, mentally calculating whether or not he should change, and shrugged. "It'll be far away enough and I don't want to dirty another shirt." He looked at me, fixing me an odd look as I sucked in a breath. "You're acting weird. And taking too long. I'm getting in."

I looked at the camera, keeping my gaze away from Phil. My face burned as I pictured him, with a see-through shirt, sitting so close to me in a small tub filled with hot water and jets as we drank wine. This wasn't going to be good and any excuse I found was justifiable to Phil and I didn't want to say I was uncomfortable because then he may figure out why. Every solution I thought of led to unpleasant predicaments, so I settled on joining him in the tub.

The irony of me wishing we were filming the video at the public hot tub and being social wasn't lost on me or helping my mood.

There were, thankfully, bubbles around Phil so there wasn't much that could be seen on camera because the water went up to his chest once he sat down. Up close, though, the water was slowly soaking his shirt and I knew the inevitable would soon happen. I needed to not think about that, there was a camera on me.