Phan One-Shots

Cracks in the Pavement

"I can't believe he actually said that!" Phil exclaimed, giggling at the memory.

Dan laughed loudly in response, replying with a simple "I know!"

Dan and Phil were walking home from the train station after a trip to PJ's, passing time by animatedly discussing the visit. Phil had been in an unwaveringly good mood the entire trip, emitting waves of joy in the way the sun emits rays of light, sharing his contagious cheer with all around him. Dan's spirits had been high as well, though upon very close inspection, one could tell that he was a bit more distracted and distant than usual.

As Phil continued his mindless, excited babble, Dan unwillingly slipped back into his own head, back into the stream of thoughts that had plagued him for days. They weren't sad thoughts, not exactly, but nor were they happy ones. Sometime during that weekend, Dan had finally realized his feelings for Phil. There was something about the man that had grabbed Dan's heart, shaking it, bending it, and breaking it all in one fluid motion, and Dan was head over heels in love with him.

His eyes were mesmerizing, his hair was perfect, his personality was akin to a beautiful flower or a ray of pure sunshine. His laugh was the most wonderful sound Dan had ever heard, his smile the most contagious sight, his hugs the most comforting feeling. Everything Phil said and did made Dan's heart do an entire gymnastics routine in his chest.

It wasn't these thoughts that upset Dan, however; it was the fact that Phil didn't like him, couldn't like him, wouldn't like him, not that way. Every time his thoughts strayed to loving things about Phil, the realization hit him again like a wave of water, unstoppable, unavoidable, drowning him against his will in the deadly sea of unrequited love. But, somehow, he always managed to swim to shore just before suffocating, returning to his place on the sand to continue his ceaseless admiration of the sun as it rose over the evil, beautiful waters.

That's where Dan was in that moment, a metaphorical beach deep in his mind. Dan, clearly, was not quite tuned in to his surroundings, so when the crack in the pavement materialized before him, he tripped, crashing directly into the object of his thoughts, and the two stumbled together. When all was still again, Dan realized how the had ended up- stomach to stomach, chest to chest, very nearly face to face against a brick wall.

Phil simply laughed, oblivious as ever. "And you say I'm the clumsy one!"

But Dan was frozen, hearing nothing but a strange ringing in his ears, seeing nothing but those eyes, so blue you could just swim in them. He was detached from his body, had completely lost control of his actions. Ignoring the faint, terrified voice in his head screaming at him to stop, Dan was leaning forward, steady brown eyes meeting confused blue, despised wavy brown hair meeting rod-straight black, and finally, after two seconds that couldn't possibly have been any shorter than two years, chapped lips met soft ones.

As soon as there was contact, there was a spark and the whole world was on fire, burning brighter than the biggest star. But it wasn't painful fire, oh no, it was the warmest, most pleasant feeling Dan had ever experienced in over two decades of life. There was colony of newborn butterflies in his stomach and it seemed that his heart had just learned how to do a triple back tuck. Their mouths fit together so perfectly and Dan longed to simply kiss him forev-

Dan's eyes snapped open, and he stumbled away from Phil in shock. Phil's cheeks were red- from embarrassment and discomfort, Dan could tell, and Phil stared openly as his brown-haired friend's mouth opened and closed in a way that would have been almost comical in any moment but this one.

Dan finally found his voice, but what came out was a stuttering, nervous mess. His hands ran through his brown fringe frantically, breath hitching in agony, dangerously close to tears.

"Phil, I- I'm so, so sorry. I- I don't know what that was. I- It'll never happen again. I p- I promise-"

"Dan."

"It doesn't mean anything. I- We just were in such a- and I- I just-"

"Dan."

"I couldn't- I couldn't help it, but this- this doesn't have to mean anything, we- we're just f- friends, and- and that's okay-"

"Dan!"

Dan jumped, burrowed so deep in his anguish and his apology that he didn't expect Phil to interrupt him, especially not with a tone so full of sternness and sympathy and something else Dan couldn't quite identify, didn't quite want to identify in fear of being wrong, of being let down yet again.

"Yeah?"

"I- it's okay, really. I- um- I kinda liked it."