BURN ; phan

s e v e n

Their morning had consisted of shared glances and blushed smiles. They dressed in a hurry if they wanted to catch the bus in time, they had both slept through the alarm Daniel had set. Phil didn't bother to change in the bathroom, Dan had turned his back to him and they both dressed in silence, Dan looking over at Phil and blushing, the older had been shirtless.

They definitely looked like a mess, both of them sprinting to the bus, hair uncombed, shirts wrinkled. It looked as if they had just finished a one night stand. Dan ran his hands through his hair until it fell into place, he did the same for Phil after they slid into their seats. Some kids whispered about the pair together, a few kids who knew Phil and a few who knew of him. The older of the two got a text from Evan half-way through their journey, he only turned over the screen and slid it back into his pocket.

Evan: They're saying you're sitting with Dan.

Evan: Nate keeps saying shit.

Evan: Where are you?

He didn't want to think about what Nate would say to his face once they stepped off the yellow ride, he didn't want to think about all of the eyes turning on him and all of the questions forming on people's lips. He remembered when he was in sixth grade and a girl walked up to him outside and asked if he wanted to take her to the dance. When he said no, she asked. "What are you?gay?" 

He remembered the looks on everyone's faces as they turned to him, astonished. Could Phil Lester actually be gay? He ran from the words and the questions on people's lips and brains for years. He ran and ran for no reason. He didn't really like one of anything, he just liked what he liked. And maybe he liked Dan. Was there really anything wrong with that? He couldn't help who he liked.

Dan placed his hand on Phil's knee, he hadn't noticed he was bouncing it quickly up and down. The older looked over at Dan, the younger offering a sympathetic smile, asking what's wrong? with his eyes. 

The confines of the seats were quite small, their shoulders brushing just like they did last night when they kissed. Phil slowly slipped his hand into Dan's, trying to hide their shared affection by his backpack that rested on his lap. The warmth of the brunet's hand and the pulse he could feel through his fingertips calmed his nerves, Dan squeezed his hand, Phil smiled. 

Everything would be okay as long as Phil had Dan.

Or at least until the bus pulled into their high school. Everyone shoved each other off, Phil almost wanted to take Dan's hand and sprint the other way - away from Nate and everyone's god damn questions. Quickly they dropped their hands to their sides, shoveling along the side walk to the big doors. Phil kept his head on a swivel, the nasty thought of abandoning Dan for the time being crossed his mind, it might help Dan's case if Nate doesn't see him. Out of sight, out of mind. But Phil couldn't do that, he needed to be by him to protect him. 

The brunet started talking but Phil wasn't listening, he nodded along and said "uh huh" but his mind was somewhere else. Where was Nate?

He followed Dan to his locker, his nerves started to calm when nothing had happened. Nate wasn't there, everything was fine. And then the talking stopped when Dan opened his locker, Phil looked back down, he had heard Dan's breath caught in his throat. On his locker door, was a very realistic looking sex toy, glued onto the door. Something was dripping off it, lube. If you tried to pull it off, your hands would only slip and it would look like you were jerking it off. 

Dan took a step back, slamming into Phil's chest. The older held his hand on the brunet's shoulder, mainly to make sure he wouldn't run away. Phil felt his blood freeze, his body tingled. The rage coursing through his body so intensely he almost couldn't feel his left hand balling into a fist.

"Who - who could have...?" Dan spoke first, his voice shaking.

People started to flood into the hallway, they started to stare. They started to laugh. There was a note tapped to the inside of the metal trap, and in Nate's perfect box handwriting, is he really your friend? Dan slammed the door shut, breathing raggedly through his nose. He took off down the hall, Phil sprinted after him.

"Where are you going?" Phil grabbed his arm, turning him around. 

"I'm going home," Dan shook his head. The tears already falling down his porcelain face. "This was a mistake." He cried, shaking his head so violently it looked like it would simply pop off and roll down the stairs. "You were a mistake." Then he turned on his heels and out of the side door, the cold wind blowing his cheeks pink as he took off down the side walk.

Phil didn't have asthma, he had the best lungs on the swim team, he could hold his breath the longest. But all of the air had been sucked out of his throat and he felt like he was choking. He felt like he was swallowing glass. He caught himself on the wall as he fell to the ground, up against the lockers. 

"Looks like Phil got dumped." A familiar voice snickered, his pristine shoes scuffing on the linoleum. 

Phil looked up at Nate, he wanted to watch the boys blood stain his white shoes. All of his life he tried to make himself emotionless. He hated feeling, but now he was feeling all too much. He shot up on weak knees and threw the hardest punch he could manage. Nate fell cold through the air, one of his friends catching him before he hit the floor.

"Fuck!" The boy shouted. Nate's unconscious head rolled to the side. "Fuck, Lester! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" 

But Phil couldn't hear him, he was already out the door and chasing after the boy who made him feel for the first time. 

a/n

i love this one.