Pieces

There's something on Dan's mind. Something that's been there for weeks and weeks, if not months, and something that's been biting and scratching away at him, trying to get him to acknowledge it. 
 
And that something is Phil.
 
No matter how hard Dan tries to convince himself everything's normal, no matter how often he wills it to go away, it stays there, nagging at the back of his mind until he's so frustrated he feels like punching a wall (and Dan is far from being a violent person). And every time Phil so much as looks at him, it suddenly flares up, more often than not leaving Dan struggling against the blush that threatens to form on his cheeks. 
 
He's been best friends with Phil since forever. So why is this happening? Why Phil? Of all the people to fall for-
 
No, no, that isn't right. He shouldn't be thinking like that. He is most definitely not falling for his best friend, is he?
 
Is he?
 
The truth is, Dan doesn't even know anymore. Logic tells him of course not. Of course he isn't. He's straight, for fuck's sake. And one thin would be some random really hot guy he happened to meet out of the blue... but Phil? Phil, the admittedly really cute guy he's known for years? No, no, that isn't happening. Dan blames it all on the little amount of sleep he's been getting lately. He's confused and tired and doesn't know what he's thinking. 
 
But the nagging feeling remains there, poking at him and whispering to him in that soft, never-ending murmur he's grown to detest and fear at the same time... because he's terrified of what it says. He's scared what it says might actually be true, because if he does have feelings for Phil… then what? What's he supposed to do? Keep quiet about them in the hope they'll go away? Dan shudders internally. If he were to listen to the feeling, all sorts of possibilities would start cropping up, and Dan isn't ready to face them. No, much better to ignore it and pretend everything's normal. 
 
See? This is what happens when you overthink things like these. 
 
It's true, and Dan knows it. But it's so hard to keep himself from dwelling on it... on him. Actually, now that he thinks about it, it's the main thing that's been occupying his mind lately, perhaps even the cause of his lack of sleep. He tells himself it has nothing to do with that, but in reality, what keeps him awake most nights is the constant battle raging on inside his head: going back, forth, back, forth and trying to set things straight, only managing to confuse himself even further and giving himself splitting headaches. 
 
No, Dan isn't sure about anything anymore, but he tries to convince himself he is, perhaps for his own sanity's sake. 
 
He screws his eyes shut and rubs his temples, trying to empty his mind of thoughts and finally get at least a moment of rest. But his thoughts aren't having that. They continue to swarm around his head, with absolutely no intention of leaving. Dan groans out loud. What has he done to deserve this?
 
His eyes flit around his surroundings, desperately trying to find a source of distraction. Right now, he's curled up on an edge of the sofa, with no will or energy to even move. Things would be so much more interesting if Phil was here - he always manages to put a smile on Dan's face, no matter how bad his day has been. Despite all the contradictory thoughts about Phil he's been having the last couple of weeks, Dan knows once he comes back, everything will be a little bit better. Even if every time Phil looks him in the eye he has to fight harder and harder against the thoughts he keeps hidden in the back of his mind. 
 
Wait, where is Phil, anyway? Didn't he say he was just going into town to buy something? He'd asked Dan if he wanted to come, and although they almost always go into town together, today Dan's feeling too drained to do anything. Besides, Phil has reassured him he won't take long. Actually, isn't he meant to be back alrea-
 
And at that precise moment, something that resembles a large blur of energy lands on Dan, taking him completely by surprise as he's tackled to the floor. 
 
"Phil!"
 
What now reveals itself to be none other than a black-haired, grinning twenty-three-year-old looks up at Dan with an amused look on his face. Dan, although somewhat annoyed at having been knocked to the floor, can't find it in himself to do anything other than smile slightly, too. Maybe it's just him, but he finds it impossible to stay mad at Phil for very long. There's something about him, maybe his slight childishness, despite being older than Dan himself, that never fails to disarm him and break though every one of his defences. 
 
"Yes?" Phil says, eyes wide and a mock-innocent look on his face. 
 
Dan's smile widens, despite himself. "Was that really necessary?"
 
"Maybe," Phil replies, grinning from ear to ear. "Did I scare you?"
 
"I wouldn't say scared. But yes, took me by surprise, if that makes you feel better."
 
"Good. How's your headache, anyway?" Phil asks. 
 
"Better. But, you know, I'm not sure if being tackled and thrown to the floor is the best cure for it," Dan says, looking at Phil pointedly.
 
The older boy smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."
 
Even with his efforts to keep his thoughts under control, Dan can't help but notice how nice Phil's eyes are. Clear, shimmering blue. Right now, they carry a playful look, but Dan knows how they look when they’re serious and knows that they can see right through him in a matter of seconds. They’re the kind of eyes it’s easy to get lost in… and, even though he doesn’t want to admit it, Dan knows he’d be more than willing to do so.
 
Before he can hold himself back, Dan’s eyes have already flicked down to Phil’s lips. Phil’s smiles are incredibly dangerous for Dan, especially in moments like this, when his thoughts keep fighting harder and harder against the restraints he’s trying to put on them… but he just can’t help himself. And before he knows it, he finds himself staring at Phil’s lips, mesmerized, wondering what it’d be like to give in to the screaming in the back of his head, lean in and taste them…
 
“Dan…?” Phil murmurs, with a small, confused frown on his face, but Dan’s too caught up to take any notice of him.
 
The way he’s feeling right now… he genuinely hasn’t felt like this before, ever. For some reason, he feels something like electricity coursing all over his body, concentrating especially on his fingertips, making them tingle. Whoever talked about a stomach filled with butterflies was clearly lying or remarkably unobservant, though. The feeling inside him is far from butterflies. Instead, all his insides are clenching up in… anticipation? His lungs feel constricted, like a giant hand has wrapped itself around his torso and is squeezing all the air out of them.
 
All the feelings are telling him to do something, and do it right now. Dan is so wired up at this very moment that he doesn’t even stop to think about what he's doing, or what fatal consequences it might have. No, nothing matters. The only thing in the universe right now is Phil, Phil's eyes, Phil's lips... and so, without any hesitation whatsoever, Dan leans in and lays his own lips down, softly, on Phil's. 

And that's when the rest of the world shuts out completely. 

The newfound sensations in Dan's stomach explode inside him, threatening to overflow as the two boys' lips press against one another. He can't think of anything right now - his mind has gone blank with bliss. He's finally doing it. He's kissing Phil. He's kissing Phil, and his mind can't seem to process it as fireworks erupt violently inside him, leaving him breathless. His hand rests on Phil's cheek ever so gently, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them, and Dan wonders why it has never felt as soft to the touch...

But, of course, it has to end, and as Dan pulls back from Phil, breath catching in his throat, he sees something that makes him wish he'd never pulled away. 

The look in Phil's eyes spells out clear, heartbreakingly honest rejection. 

He looks scared. No, he looks terrified. All because of Dan. All because of Dan's idiotic, reckless actions, he's just lost his best friend forever. 

The blissful bubble he was in shatters suddenly and completely, leaving him vulnerable and all-too-aware of the consequences of his actions. And horror makes its way into his system as he realizes that Phil will never be able to look at him in the same way. 

"Phil." The name leaves his lips, almost a reflex act. "Phil, I-"

His voice dies out on its own, unable to continue any further as Phil's eyes drill into him. I've lost him. I've lost him forever.

Phil's head starts shaking slowly from side to side. It's almost like he can't believe what's just happened between them, and Dan doesn't blame him. How could he have ever anticipated that?

And then two words leave his lips, two words that sink Dan into greater depths than he could ever have imagined. 

"I'm sorry..."

Time is still for an eternal, frozen second. 

Then Dan feels a sudden rush of revulsion, an uncontrollable urge to run, to get as far away from here as possible and to never come back. And, without a moment's thought, he obeys it. 

His body rises from the ground and he's on his feet in the blink of an eye, not daring to look down at Phil. 

"Dan?"

He whirls around towards the door, not wanting to hear anything, not wanting to see anything, desperate to get out of here-

"Dan, wait!"

A hand grabs his forearm and tries to turn him around again. Dan tries to shake it off, but it's useless, and he's spun around and left staring into Phil's eyes again. Phil's eyes. The ones he'd been trying to stop thinking about mere minutes ago, and the ones that can never be his. 

He has to get away from here. 

He breaks free of Phil's grip and sprints towards the door, ignoring the cry of "Dan!" coming from behind him. Fortunately, as soon as he presses the lift button the doors spring open, and he bursts through them, watching, wide-eyed, as Phil runs towards him, only to see the doors closing between them. 

Faster. Faster, please, he prays silently, willing the lift to speed up, to leave this all behind. If he's still for much longer, he knows he'll completely break down inside the lift, and that's the one thing he's desperate to avoid. So when the doors finally slide open at the bottom floor, he breaks into a run again, not caring who sees him or bumps into him. In seconds' time, he's out in the street, pushing his way past people. The only thought on his mind is getting as far away from here as he can, in any way possible. 

So he runs and runs, heart pounding and breath coming in short, sharp pants. Each time his foot hits the ground, a relentless hammering is felt inside his skull, but he doesn't stop. Try as he might, he can't avoid the earlier events playing over and over again in his head, to the point where he feels he might go insane. And Phil, Phil is everywhere, no matter how far or how fast he runs. His voice is heard, perfectly clearly, among chattering crowds. His crystalline eyes survey Dan from the depths of dark alleyways. Dan speeds up, trying to leave them behind, even though deep inside he knows he'll never be able to. 

Finally, when he simply can't go on any longer, he collapses in a forgotten alley corner, and only then does he allow himself to cry. 

His sobs shatter the quiet of the street, desolate, heartbroken, and the only comfort he can find is that he's been able to hold them back long enough for Phil not to see them. 

A sharp, stabbing pain tears its way through Dan's chest, and he knows what it is almost immediately. It's his heart. It's his heart, which he now realizes has always been in Phil's hands, splintering apart until it's shattered beyond repair. 

What have I done?

Will you ever forgive me?