Fiction

The thought of losing you

When someone loves you they fight for you because the thought of losing you breaks their heart.

~Sonya Parker

Dan POV

I woke up the next morning on the floor of the kitchen, with the type of headache you only get after crying for ages and very sore legs from sleeping on the floor in skinny jeans. The morning sunlight shone through the windows, the happiness of it making me want to punch something.

I was not in a happy mood.

I am such an idiot. I told Phil to leave? Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? Am I mad?

He probably hates me right now. And he's quite right to. Where did he even go last night? If he had to spend a night on the streets I would never forgive myself. Not that I'm going to forgive myself anyway.

I need to call him.

It's probably a bad idea, and he probably won't answer, but I need to hear his voice, even if it's just his pre-recorded voicemail message. I would watch some of his videos, but I'm not sure I can handle seeing his face right now.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"What?" He says, and it's obvious that he's just woken up because his voice is deeper and croakier than usual, and it is not doing wonders for my concentration.

"Phil." I whisper, so glad to hear his voice and know he's okay. The damage I have done is not physical, at least.

"Dan. You have five seconds to start explaining before I hang up this phone and never speak to you again." And his voice is stony. He is the angriest I've ever heard him.

I hurt him a lot.

And I know that I cannot forgive myself.

"5..."

"Okay, okay! I'm speaking now! Don't hang up, please."

He doesn't hang up.

"Good. Right, so I know you're angry at me, and you have every right to be. I was a complete dickhead, I screwed up, I messed with both of our feelings. But, if our friendship is ruined anyway, I might as well say it.

"I love you. I love you, Philip Michael Lester. And I will never be able to say it enough, or put enough meaning into it. I can't imagine what my life would be like without you in it, or if I would even have a life at all. I don't want to imagine what I'd be like if I had never met you, or what my life would be like now, if I pushed you away. I'm uncertain about a lot of things, Phil. But if I had to choose one thing that I knew with all my heart to be true, it would be this: I love you. And I know you almost certainly don't feel the same, even after all we did together. But I didn't mean to kick you out. I was confused about you, about your feelings, about what happened, so much that I didn't think. My mouth talked before my brain had caught up to it, and I managed to screw everything up, as I always seem to do. So I want you to know two things, Phil: I love you, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

The line is silent.

"How fast can you get to Chris' place?"

"About five minutes, why?"

"See you in a couple of minutes."

And then he hung up. The full impact of the words he just said hit me, and I was up and running for the door, pulling shoes on on the way, running faster than I ever had before, fingers running through my hobbit hair in a desperate attempt to straighten it with the power of my mind.

The streets weren't that crowded, but it was a weekend morning, and not many people would be up. The air was brisk and cool as it whipped past my face, cutting like a knife. My trainers beat out a frantic rhythm on the concrete, and my heart a faster one still.

Before I knew it, I was in front of Chris' door and knocking. He opened it, and his hair was messy, he had stubble and his glasses were perched on his nose, and he looked the way I chose to remember him, the Phil he only showed to the people closest to him, people like me.

He looked me up and down, taking in everything from my shoes to my hobbit hair. We were both breathing heavily, getting lost in each other's eyes. He opened the door wider, a wordless invitation inside. I moved past him slowly, taking my time, feeling like I was being squeezed, my heart contracting, my stomach turning, my breath slowly deserting me. He shut the door and followed me into the lounge.

"Was it true? What you said on the phone?" He asks, his voice quiet and timid. I turn around to look at him, and I must have revealed the answer in my eyes because next thing I know is that I am being pressed against a wall by Phil, and his blue eyes are boring into mine, and I am getting extremely turned on by this.

"Then I love you too."

That's when he kisses me. He leans down and presses his mouth to mine harshly and passionately. His arms are braced on the wall behind me so that I am completely trapped between his body and the wall. I reach up and wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, as he softly bites my lip and I gasp, him smiling against my mouth as he slips his tongue inside.

We stay like this for a long time. Wordless, just me against a wall and him kissing me.

"Looks like we don't have to sort out Phan's love life after all Chris."

We pulled away remarkably fast and turned to stare at the two figures in the doorway. They were both grinning, and Chris looked about ready to blow a fuse. PJ too was smiling, but at Chris, with obvious affection in his eyes.

That's when I noticed that their hands were entwined.

"Wait... you guys are together?" I asked.

"Wait... you guys are together?" Chris replied. I laughed.

"This'll be one to tell the fans."

A/N:
I am never again promising an update by a deadline. Stressful. Very stressful. Don't do it. But I managed it (sacrificing homework but whatever) and here we are! I don't know if I'll continue it after this, depends on whether I get an idea or not. We'll see!

I have yet to find a pencorn, although I am now assisted by my good friend ThamesThePotatoChip who just found my one shot collection (read it please) and squealed. A lot. My ears are no longer functioning.

Back to homework! *sigh*