Aftershocks ➳ Philkas/Eyewitness

08

Episode 08: Nightmares 

The orange glow from the lantern illuminates the tent with warm light. Outside, the sounds of nearby campfires crackling and crickets chirping fill the atmosphere. It's peaceful. Relaxed— which is something Philip hasn't felt in a long time. Distantly, he can hear the lake lapping softly against the sandy shore.

Lukas is sitting in front of him, cross-legged, holding playing cards in his hands. He's wearing plaid pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips and an old t-shirt that's probably one size too large. The light from the lantern carves shadows into his sharp cheekbones and defined jawline.

"Got any eight's?" Lukas asks, eyebrows raised.

Philip scans over his cards and shakes his head. "Go fish."

"Damn it," Lukas mutters under his breath, grabbing another card from the deck.

Philip just giggles.

"Got any two's, Luka?" he prompts.

Lukas sighs. "Yeah," he grumbles, tossing the two of diamonds at Philip's face. It hits his cheek before falling on the sleeping bag beneath them. They both laugh, and Philip is pretty sure their camping neighbors can hear them, but at the moment he doesn't care.

"This is fun," Philip says fondly, grabbing another piece of beef jerky from the bag on the floor. He chews for a long moment, and Lukas thinks he looks like a chipmunk with stuffed cheeks. It's kind of cute.

"Go Fish isn't the most enthralling game in the word," Lukas argues.

Philip rolls his eyes. "No, I mean— just being with you. Here. Alone. It's fun."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, city boy," Lukas teases.

"I am. It's nice to get away from Tivoli after..." He waves his hand dismissively, deciding not to finish that sentence. It doesn't need to be said. They both know.

Lukas smiles. "We don't ever have to go back, if you don't want to. We could run away to Mexico or something. Elope together."

Philip scoffs. "Yeah, right. Helen would have the entire FBI looking for me in a matter of hours."

The blond shrugs. "She's just protective because she cares about you, y'know. You can't blame her."

"I know," Philip assures.

After a moment, Lukas sets his playing cards aside and scoots closer to Philip. He cups his soft cheeks between his rough, calloused palms and kisses him gently. Philip smiles against his lips and settles his hands on his hips, letting his cards scatter on the ground. He bites down on Lukas's lip a little.

"What about the game?" Philip teases against his mouth.

Lukas smirks. "We both know you were gonna win anyway," he assures. "You always do."

Philip giggles and lets Lukas guide him. He lays on top of his sleeping bag, slow and comfortable, with Lukas hovering over him. He connects their lips again and plants his hands on either side of Philip's head. He's missed this— having Lukas over him, looking down on him, kissing him from above like he's some kind of divine being.

"Wait," Philip huffs, breaking the kiss for a moment. "Are you feeling okay? Can you support your own weight now?"

Lukas smiles widely and pecks his lips with reassurance. "I'm fine, babe."

"Okay," Philip exhales, a little relieved.

He brushes his hand over Lukas's pec and feels the faint outline of his bandage. His bullet wound hasn't fully healed, and there will most likely always be a scar there, but the pain isn't as intense anymore. Now it's a constant dull ache in his chest, and it's difficult to distinguish if it's physical pain or the pain of being in love. Maybe it's a little bit of both.