Special Boy // phan

-13-

"Dan. Daaaan." I sputtered, sitting up quickly in Phil's bed after having been forcibly pulled from a lovely dream about flying boys and flaming birds. For a second, I was sincerely confused as to why I couldn't open my eyes, who was talking, and where I was. But, once I was finally able to peel my eyes open and register that the loud noise was not only a voice, a very familiar voice, but it was also saying my name, the tiredness melted away into alarm.

"Huh? Is everything okay?" I asked, my voice slurred with sleep. Phil's face was slightly too close to be in focus and for my heart to beat at a normal pace. I had forgotten what it was like to have a crush on someone, it having been at least five years since I felt good enough about myself to even feel worthy of liking someone, especially someone as amazing as AmazingPhil. It was funny, really, that the first time we met he was hitting on me, and I wasn't interested. But now that he thinks that, I'm head over heels for the dude. It might be a problem.

"Danisnotonfire, it's time to go!" My eyes finally stayed open long enough for me to turn on my phone and check the time, a slight flinch at the display.

"It's three am. Not time for class yet," I mumbled, attempting to draw the blankets around myself and fall backwards on the bed.

"No silly! It's official Super business!" My sleep muddled brain did not comprehend that for several seconds, but Phil grasped my shoulders and held me fast. "I got a call! The city needs us, Dan!" I blinked several times, then my brain finally put it together.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, yeah, super stuff. Got it." I flung my legs over the side of the bed and dug my toes into the carpet, preparing myself to stand up. I hadn't gotten up this fast in years.

"I know you haven't completed your training, but maybe you could just watch this time, and we can figure out what you could do best!" Phil was far too enthusiastic for this time in the morning, especially considering he had just been sleeping in a fort of old blankets and a threadbare couch pull-out bed. I suspected coffee had a little something to do with it. I finally was able to hoist myself out of bed after a few seconds and stood, swaying, attempting to keep my eyes open. I had only gotten two or three hours of sleep since Phil finally let me go to bed, and that was going to catch up with me, big time.

"You'll need a costume, of course. Something... simple, but recognisable. Something..."

"Black?" I offered, knowing full well that Phil's purple and blue suit would not bode well with me. Phil shrugged, and gestured to what I was wearing.

"That should work, right? For now, at least." I looked down at my outfit. Black Kanye shirt and black skinny jeans, accompanied by black socks and, slightly visible over the waistband of my jeans, black briefs. I subconsciously hiked my pants up to my hips as I felt Phil's eyes sweep over them. "You're just driving, today."

"Why don't you fly everywhere?" I asked as Phil led me into the main room, gesturing to a cup of tea he left on the counter as he went into the entrance hall to grab our shoes. I wrapped my hands around the mug and drank gratefully, downing half the warm liquid before I took another breath. I felt at least twenty times better the second it hit my tongue.

"Why don't you run everywhere? Isn't that faster?" Phil responded with a smirk, dropping my  shoes by my feet with a loud bang. I took another sip.

"Fair point." A brief moment of silence. "How'd you know I like green tea?" Phil's back was to me as he pulled on his blue trainers, and I saw him freeze for a fraction of a second. But then he shrugged his shoulders.

"Lucky guess?"

"It's a weird thing to assume," I said, thinking I had just imagined his hesitation. "It's not a very popular flavour."

"Enough yacking, get your shoes on." Phil turned to me, pressing his mask to his face. "We have to be there fast." I nodded and started pulling the unnecessarily large amount of zips down on my shoes so I could shove my feet into them.

"Where are we going?"

"Bank robbery, I'm pretty sure. Down in Piccadilly. Some guy with lock picking powers. Could have sworn I got him already but he must not have gone to jail. This is big, though. Come on!" He gasped my hand the second I was able to set the nearly empty mug down, and he pulled me out of the door, his pace picking up to a caffeine-induced sprint, all the way down the stairs and to the car lot, cape fluttering behind him. I was wheezing by the time he finally tossed me the keys and looped around to the passenger seat, excitedly yanking the door open and sitting down. He was already buckled up and tapping the dashboard by the time I managed to shove my tired arse down in the seat and put the keys into the ignition.

"Turn left out of here and drive for two-ish kilometres," Phil said, reading off his phone. I followed his instructions and sped up down the nearly empty road, Phil talking the whole while. I was only half listening as he yammered on about the last time he caught this guy, and only responded when he informed me to turn left at the next light.

"But, you see, he only picked the lock on the front doors by the time I got to him. So I guess he didn't get any jail time- Dan?" I quickly spun the wheel so I could make it through the yellow light, then glanced at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you listening?"

"Uh... no. Sorry." Phil just grinned and looked forward.

"That's okay. Let's focus on catching this guy, yeah?" I realised we were driving right through my old neighborhood, and Phil almost looked like he knew where he was. Maybe there was a lot of crime fighting in this area. Maybe I was just imagining things.