Dan blinks a few times and looks away shyly, his hands timidly hidden in the sleeves of his hoody - Phil's hoody. His mouth is just so slightly open; he's struggling to find words to break the silence and the seemingly awkward atmosphere he feels has aroused between them. But not all silences are awkward. Not all silences are meant to be broken. Sometimes, silences are worth more than a thousand words. At least, that is how Phil feels. Sitting on the bed in front of him, he observes Dan with a sense of amusement. He likes to watch the younger boy's confusion and the adorable shyness. He likes to watch his cheeks flush with embarrassment or the way he often avoids eye contact and buries his face in his sleeve-covered hands. And that is in the nicest way possible, of course. Phil could never imagine making fun of Dan, not in a mean way. On the contrary, seeing Dan so vulnerable, so defenceless, makes Phil want to protect him and pull him into a never-ending hug.
"So like what do you wanna do?" the younger boy finally manages to blurt out, his mouth curling up into a semi-confident side smile.
And it's all so adorable that Phil is now the one struggling for words. It's like he finally understands the true meaning of "being lost in someone's eyes". Looking into Dan's almond-shaped eyes with those perfect fragile lacy eye lashes, he feels his own pupils dilate with desire.
"What?" Dan chuckles in embarrassment. "Stop looking at me like tha..."
Phil leans in and gently presses his lips against Dan's. It's like they barely even touched - it didn't even last a second, - but it's so meaningful, so powerful, that the boys' hearts skip a beat. Head still tilted to the side, Phil pulls away almost instantly, keeping eye contact with Dan, who is confused, to say at the least. The never completed phrase still remains on his lips, which are open in surprise. The silence is the one to complete it. It is the silence who says the words, which are hidden deep in the brown eyes.
Phil wants more. His whole body, no, his whole existence wants Dan. And it doesn't matter whether Dan feels the same way because their lips are touching again. It feels like a warm breeze at first, Dan's messy fringe timidly tickling Phil's cheek, while his hands are clumsily trying to find their way to Phil's shoulders. Their teeth cling as one tongue touches the very tip of the other and soon, the taste of caramel macchiato drowns their whole existence in the warm sea of love and lust and desire and just pure simple happiness. Phil places one of his cold hands behind the head of the other, while holding Dan like he's his everything, his reason to live. And Dan rests his hands on Phil's shoulders like a middle school boy during a slow dance. And it feels so surreal, so crazy. It feels so wrong, like it should've never happened. But then Phil feels Dan's mouth opening more and more, letting their tongues embrace like that is what they were made for. And it feels so right. So right.
And when the kiss is over, they don't pull away. Dan puts his head on Phil's shoulder and closes his eyes. Feeling his heart beating against his own, Phil hugs Dan, never wanting to let go.