Those Who Trust (Phan)

Part 12

"W-what are y-you doing ba-back?" Dan stuttered over his words as they got stuck in his throat. He looked up at the tall man as he shuffled backwards on hands and feet, until his back hit the wall behind him and his head was hidden by shirts that smelled like Phil and their shared washing powder.

"I forgot my phone and came back to get it, but what's more important is what are you doing here?"

Phil stepped closer. Dan pressed himself closer to the wall. His entire body was trembling and there was nowhere to go, he was trapped, the drawer with the toys was still open, almost like an invitation for Phil to use. The pictures of the nightmare flashed before his eyes again, Phil with a whip in his hand and a twisted grin on his lips.

You've always been a tease Howell, it's time someone puts you into your place.

Dan squeezed his eyes shut as Phil stood before him now, curled up enough to only reach to his mid-thigh. If he had his eyes open, he could have seen the details of the threats in his black skinny jeans, looked up just a bit more to see the dangerously glinting silver zip and button. His head hurt and it was hard to breathe.

"What did you want to do with my toys, Dan? Did you want to play with them like a naughty boy, things that are not even yours, and don't invite me to watch?"

Phil was talking slowly as if to a child and his voice was a threat to Dan, and there was no air to breathe in the walk-in closet, how was he supposed to breathe?

"Ple-please," he chocked out between dry lips.

"Please what? Please play with me, Phil?"

Dan's heart felt like it shattered and he shook his head from left to right and back again frantically. "No, no no no." Tears were rolling down his cheeks and dripping from his chin, got soaked up by the fabric of his black shirt. This couldn't be happening again, please not again. Sobs wrecked his entire body and he didn't know how to supress them, how to stop- how to stop crying, how to stop shaking, how to stop breathing.

"One more time Dan, if I find you sneaking around my stuff one more damn time, I'll teach you a lesson or two." The words were spit out harshly and Dan whined, pressed his knees against his chest harder and hid his face.

He heard the footsteps and the light in the walk-in closet was turned off, the door left wide open and after a few more seconds it was quiet in the apartment, except for Dan's sobs. He didn't dare move, stayed curled up in a ball surrounded by clothes that smelled like the person he was so scared of returning. He was there for what felt like hours, and when he uncurled himself it was still hard to breathe and his muscles hurt and he scurried inside his room, closed the door behind him and placed his nightstand in front of it, and his chair and all the books he could find. Still trembling like a leaf he slid down onto the floor next to the bed, wrapped his arms around himself and hiccupped, refusing to let the door out of sight of his bloodshot eyes.
___

Phil had properly fucked up, he knew that the minute he woke up with a headache from hell and the feeling in his mouth of being gagged by a dead mouse. Last night's details were a blur to him. He remembered returning for his phone and finding Dan in his closet and how angry he had gotten. It had already been a hard day at work and he was ready to blow off some steam, all the emotions over the entire day had gathered inside his mind, and seeing the younger one on knees frozen before Phil's toy drawer had been the final straw. After that, there's not much to remember. Phil had decided to go to a club instead of the Dungeon, his emotions too dangerous to lay the safety of a submissive into his hands, had gotten drunk and fucked a guy in a back alley two blocks from the club. And now that he was awake, he regretted most of it- not the one-night stand, because the guy had definitely had some skills, but getting drunk and- oh fuck, Dan.