phan // one-shots

First Times

summary: there's a first time for everything.

word count: 2.8k

2009, your bedroom somewhere in Manchester - the first time I realise I think I might have a slight crush on you.

It's when I finally meet you in person and we awkwardly hug and I seem cool but internally I'm freaking out so bad because I'm friends with actual Phil Lester, the same Phil who I've spent hours watching on YouTube, messaging on twitter and laughing at in crappy quality 5 hour Skype calls. Now you're actually here, actually real in front of me and I think I'm probably going to pass out or projectile vomit all over your shoes from excitement. We're just sitting on your bed in your room and you smile so beautifully at one of my many, many stupid sarcastic jokes and I stop halfway through telling it and just smile back because you are literally the most perfect person on this earth - who wouldn't want to just stare at you when given the chance?

After a while we both look away, cheeks burning bright red and without missing a beat you make some cute comment about lions that makes me laugh again and everything is back to normal but my brain can't stop whirring because I could kiss you right now. I could grab you and kiss you with everything I have. And I want to, so badly.

But I won't, because we only just became friends and you probably don't like me in that way anyway. Who would?
That's the day I finally admit, even if it's only to myself, that maybe I have a thing for adorable dorks with black hair and blue eyes, and maybe it's not so bad. Maybe I do have a crush on you, but it's just a crush - I'm sure I'll get over it eventually.

2010, your bedroom somewhere in Manchester - the first time I realise getting over you might not be as easy as I thought.

When we say hello into the camera, and I ask you stupid questions (e.g. What would you do if everybody you knew suddenly turned into a duck?" and you give me stupid answers (e.g. I would eat my own feet) I can't help feeling my "crush" is getting slightly out of hand because I can't get you out of my head, and it's probably not healthy to constantly think about one of closest (hell, one of your only) friend's bright blue eyes every night but I somehow end up doing it every night anyway.

Some of the shock has worn off now from you actually wanting to be my friend and now I don't really know what I did without you - you're the one I call when my law coursework gets slightly too stressful or I can't sleep or I find out an interesting animal fact I think you'll like. You are my best friend.
So it's a little bit frustrating being head over heels in love with you.

It's easier when we're apart, but the problem is I don't ever want to be apart from you. You light up my world, and you'll never know.
"Dan? Hello, earth to Dan?" you say, waving your hand in front of my face and I snap out of it. I'm not going to let my stupid crush ruin our friendship. Within seconds you're already making me laugh again.
You'd be a great distraction if you weren't the thing I needed distracting from.
That's the day I finally admit that it's been just over seven months since we met in person for the first time, and my heart still beats a little faster every time our hands brush together, my cheeks still tinge bright red when we get close. When I'm alone I can almost convince myself that I'm over you, but all it takes is one look in those bright blue eyes and I practically melt all over again. It's all your fault - if you weren't so damn perfect, I wouldn't have this stupid problem in the first place.
I look into your bright blue eyes now, and realise I don't think I'm getting over you any time soon.

2011, your bedroom somewhere in Manchester - the first time I realise maybe I don't want to get over you at all. 

"Move in with me."

It's when we're sitting on your bed and I (for the millionth time) am complaining about having to leave that you suggest in a small voice that maybe I don't have to. I raise an eyebrow but really my heart is skyrocketing, because isn't this everything I've ever dreamed of?
"Think about it - I could do with a flatmate and you need somewhere to live for your second year. I'd rather have you than anyone else who could be a serial killer or something and I'd rather actually spend time with you without your constant complaints about having to leave." Your bright blue eyes, the bright blue eyes I have fallen in love with, flick up from the floor to hold my gaze even if your cheeks are noticeably tinged with pink and it occurs to me I haven't said anything yet.