The Great YouTuber Slash Fiction

Chapter 7: MatPhil - Seniors

Originally posted May 12, 2017 to AO3      

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
And I am proof against their enmity." You recite quietly to yourself once more before showtime. You're not particularly nervous, but you're determined to make it perfect.

Phil comes up from behind, surprising you. You almost let out a yelp but are able to hold back. "Break a leg!"

The director announces that you're on in five.

And with that, you take a deep breath, and prepare for your last performance of your high school years.

Only twelve weeks until graduation. You wonder if you'll miss this place. You feel neither happy nor sad about it, you conclude. The only great sins and tragedies you ever came across were on that stage, where you found your greatest glory. You will going for a theater degree, that's for sure.

What you're going to miss most though, is definitely your friends. Yes, Austin, Nate, Mark, and even your new one, Phil.

Phil was the exchange student from Britain. He's only been here a year, but you two shared five classes together, so logically, it was best that you'd get acquainted. It wasn't hard though; Phil was an amiable cinnamon roll, and you shared a love for video games. Sometimes, you'd even share your game theories with him.

Your thoughts are cut short by the director. "Places, everyone!"

Phil gives you one final pat on the back, and you head to the wings to wait for your first scene.

"By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise."

You're supposed to keep your gaze fixed on you co-star, but you shoot a wayward one into the wings. You can see Phil, his face strawberry pink, although you assume it's just the lighting, since your face is starting to feel warm and looks to be a matching color in the thin reflections of the balcony rail.

The play is over. Yes, before you know it, you've danced through another's life, and finished it. For the last time on this stage. Everything concludes with a final curtain call and applause. A few of the faculty and your family give you a last congratulations.

You change out of your costume and exit the building, heading to the place you'd agreed to meet Phil after the show. You see him talking with another boy.

It's Dan, the other exchange student. He and Phil were friends back in England, but you two had never gotten aquainted, as he's a freshman who usually hangs out with the emo kids.

They were conversing before you had come over. The younger gives the other an encouraging nudge to the older one. "See you later," Dan says while skipping away, "and trust me, Phil! He'll say yes."

Phil turns to you. "You did great! You weren't even nervous!" You guys embrace.

"It's not that scary the twelfth time you do it." He giggles in response. "So, where we going?"

"Pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good."

The walk there is quiet, but not unpleasantly so. The cool, twilight breeze kisses your face while the beginnings of spring peak out of the ground.

The restaurant's lights shine like warm beacons in the young night. The radio plays the new pop hits, and the waitress behind the counter bounces along to the beat. You seat yourselves in a tomato red booth.

It's small talk until your curiousity can't wait any longer.

"Soooooo, who's the lucky guy?"

Phil looks up from his pizza. "What?"

"Dan was saying something about someone who'll say yes."

"Oh, yeah," he says, beginning to visibly blush. "I, um, kinda fancy this guy, but I'm nervous about telling him. Dan thinks that he likes me back, and that I should ask him to the prom." He attempts to hide himself behind his piece of pizza.

He liked someone? This was news to you. You're surprised that he told another before you; maybe even a bit--

No, not jealous, definitely not.

You grab his hand under the table. "Don't be nervous, I'm sure he'll go with you." After all, who could resist Phil? He's a handsome young man. He's got the whole package: marine blue eyes, jet black hair, tall stature, and the personality of a fluffy bunny. You're sure his crush will love it.

"Wait, has anyone asked you to prom?" He asks. You shake your head. "Do you want to go?"

You shrug. "I'm fine either way. Already got the prom experience last year. Although I don't plan on asking anyone."

He gives a small smile, and watches stray raindrops roll down the window.

"It's getting late," he points out, slurping the last drops of his drink. "We should get going."

"You got your overnight stuff?" Phil gestures to a his bag. He'll be staying over at your house tonight.

"Great, then let's go."

It's drizzing outside, but you don't mind. You're a man; you can take a little rain. Even if it starts to pour a little more. And more. And more. Okay, maybe you can't take a rainstorm. Certainly not a borderline flood. Drops are smacking your head, soaking your clothes, wrapping they're hands around your waist and kissing you-- wait, that's not the rain.

The streetlight is dimmed by the deluge, and it only barely touches you. No one else is crazy enough to be out here. It's a scene from a movie.

With that, Phil sweeps you off your feet and carries you bridal style down the rest of your street and places you on your front porch.

"Gah," You spit the water out of your mouth and wipe off your face.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I-I just, well, Dan said that I should stop being a wuss and just do it before it's too late and ohmygod I'm sorry and um I guess and um well... Prom?" The last word was barely a squeak.

You giggle. He's shivering, whether from cold or nerves. The lights on inside illuminate his soft features. You're sure he's blushing. He's adorable. He's beautiful.

When he's clearly fearing that you'll decline, you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him "Yes."

Relief washes over him as you lean in for another kiss. This one pauses time, suspends between everlasting seconds. Its sequel is just as long. There's another. And another. And another. At this point you to are just having sloppy makeouts on the front porch.

"We should get inside," he interrupts the kiss. "It's cold out."

You two spend the night snuggling and watching movies.