The Burrito Fic

The burrito fic (chapter 1 of 99) 🌯

Tick. Tock. Tick Tock.

Phil stared blankly at the TV, arm outstretched with the remote in hand as he surfed through various different channels. Ugh, Phil thought. When's the food gonna arrive?

The ticking of the clock was annoying him. He just wants to take it off the wall and smash it into the ground. Why did they even buy a clock anyways? He and Dan always have their phones with them at all times, why even bother buying a clock? Phil scoffed as he remembered the reason why. Dan claimed that it was for the "aesthetic" and was needed to make the room look nicer.

Phil was getting more and more agitated by the minute. He cannot wait any longer. His stomach has been growling for the past hour. Phil was hungry. Phil was angry. Phil was... hangry.

After what seemed like years, the sweet, sweet noise of their weird-sounding doorbell finally buzzed. Phil had never stood up so quickly in his entire life. He rushed as fast as he could to the door but then realised that all the blood has left his brain. All he could see were black spots as he blindly reached for the door handle and opened the front door.

Phil felt very lightheaded and almost collapsed on the delivery man. "Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he said, holding the bag of the Mexican food in his hands with a concerned look on his face.

"Hm? Y-yeah, I'm fine," Phil replied nervously. He almost threw the money at the worried delivery guy. "Keep the change." Phil snatched the bag out of his hands and closed the door. Much to his surprise, the door didn't fully close. The delivery boy's foot caught the door. Phil didn't think that his foot was there by accident; he stared at him.

"Get your foot out of my male exit," he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You're very eager to eat those spicy™ burritos, huh?" the delivery guy said as he leaned against the doorframe. "How about I help you out with that?" He winked.

"Uh, help me with... eating...?" Phil replied, confused.

"That burrito might be too spicy™ for you, so I'll be there to help you through it."

"Um, no thanks. I'd like to eat my burritos in peace. I can handle spiciness™."

"No, honey, trust me. You can't." The delivery man pushed the door open and let himself into the flat.

"I don't even know your name!" Phil exclaimed, gripping the bag with the Mexican food until his knuckles turned white.

"You don't need to know my name. Just call me... Bwinkle." He dramatically twirled.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Call me Bwinkle." He dramatically twirled again.

"...why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Dramatically twirling."

"It's a medical condition, okay?! Don't kinkshame me!"

"I... I don't think you know what the word 'kinkshame' means..."

"Shhhhhh........" Bwinkle put a finger up to Phil's mouth. "It's burrito time."

Phil was very confused. He didn't consent to this, but he's just gonna go along with it.

Bwinkle pushed Phil onto one of the sofas in the living room. He grabbed the bag of Mexican food out of Phil's hands and opened it. He took out a spicy™ burrito and unwrapped it. "Open wide, big boy," Bwinkle said in an oddly sensual tone.

"E-excuse me?" Phil said, face turning slightly pink.

"You heard me. Now open wide for Papa."

"I thought your name was Bwinkle?"

"OPEN WIDE." he shouted, getting really impatient. Phil reluctantly opened his mouth.

"Here comes the aeroplane!" Bwinkle said almost too excitedly. He shoved the spicy™ boi into Phil's mouth. He began to eat it.

"Mmm," the British Boi™ said. "Dat burrito is one thicc bih. Let me see dat spiceussy™."

"Gladly."

Phil and Bwinkle did not expect for the afternoon to be like this, but they weren't complaining. They loved it. They wanna do it more. That day was the spiciest™ day those bois had ever experienced. It was very spicy™ indeed.