When I woke up this morning and saw Phil next to me, I was originally confused. I mean, I remember coming in from Chris's party last night, and I remember being very drunk and probably throwing up a few times before I went to sleep, but I do not remember how Phil got into my bed. I whimper at the pounding in my head, and rub my forehead with the pads of my fingers, pouting slightly. I look down and sigh in relief. We're both dressed, that means I didn't have sex with my best friend last night.

I glance over at my alarm clock, and sigh quietly. It's 10:30 am. I never wake before 12, what's wrong with me? I look down at Phil, and smile. He's so cute. He has his knees tucked up; his right arm is draped over my waist, his head tucked into the crook of my neck. I like how we contrast against each other, he's incredibly pale and I'm tan, his ebony hair makes his eyes seem so much more… Blue. My nutty brown hair just makes my eyes look brown, which they are.

He nuzzles his face into my neck a little more, and I raise a hand, which I would usually do if I were swatting him away from me in a video, but instead run my fingers through his dyed tresses, smiling sweetly at the content hum he gives. His eyes flutter open only moments later, and he mewls out a yawn.

"Morning, Dan," He murmurs, pouting at what could only be guessed was a hangover.

Phil didn't drink often, but when he did, he really fucking drank. He didn't swear, either, and yesterday was the first time I heard him swear in little over three years. It was only the word shit, but from someone as seemingly innocent and childlike as Phil, it had shocked me. I swore a lot, and Phil always got onto me for it, so seeing and hearing him swear last night was very strange.

"Morning sleepy head," I murmur into his hair, closing my eyes and sighing softly.

"Why am I in your bed?" He asked, curious. I adored that about Phil, he was so innocent and quiet, and so bloody curious.

"I have no idea." I respond, looking down at him.

He's pouting, and I hate that pout. It's the small, upset, lost puppy pout that he gives me in videos when I act like a twat to him. I pout, and look down at him.

"Don't pout at me like that." I sigh, kissing his forehead gently. He hums, and nuzzles into me again.

Sometimes, it shocks even me that he's older than me.

"Phil?"

"Yes?"

"Go make coffee." I yawn.

I can pretty much hear his pout as he shuffles out of the bed, and into the kitchen. I can hear him taking out two mugs, and then he presses the button on our coffee machine. He then shuffles into the living room, and turns the TV on. I hear Adventure Time playing, and I smile.

I walk out into the living room after I change into some jogging bottoms and a hooded jacket. I sit on the couch next to him, and he walks into the kitchen to pour the coffee into the mugs and put some milk and sugars in. He walk back, and passes me mine, holding his own with two hands as he sits down and sips at it. I watch the TV with him for a while, before he places the mug on the coffee table, turns and looks at me.

"Dan, I know what happened last night." He whispers. I turn and look at him.

"What?" I ask.

He bites his lip in slight frustration, closing his eyes and sighing.

"I think, if I remember, we were at Chris's, and we'd just finished doing a round of vodka shots. I was a lot more gone than you, and I was all giggly and stuff and you were like holding me because I think I'd just thrown up. I wiped my mouth and stuff and you gave me some chewing gum. After like an hour, I was pretty drunk and you were too, but I think um, I think we kissed." He whispered.

Physically, I feel my cheeks flame, the blood gushing to my cheeks as I hear what happened last night. We'd kissed?! Oh.

He looks at me from under his thick black eyelashes, hair drawing onto his face to hide the blush he's sporting. I'm not the only one who was feeling shocked, then.

I don't know how it happens, but almost a moment later he's placed in my lap, my fingers curled around his hip bones, our lips pressed together. His fingers are in my hair and God almighty why haven't we done this sober before?

He bites my lower lip gently, and I groan, feeling his tongue come out of his mouth and massage my lower lip better, and I open my lips slightly and invite him in, drawing his tongue inside with my own. I guess the two muscles do what some would call fight for dominance, but I win easily. Phil is just too adorable to be the dominant one in our not yet there relationship, the operative word being yet.

I hear him whimper slightly as I run my tongue over the top of his mouth, and his fingers tighten slightly in my hair. He pulls away first, and I guess we do need oxygen. He rests his forehead against mine, our noses resting side by side as we both try and get our breath back.

"So, Philion, tell me why we haven't done this sober before today?" I ask.

He lets out a soft giggle, and he looks at me, cheeks still that pretty shade of pink as when he was telling me last night's details. I glance beside us and see his phone is open on a message from PJ, and I presume that he's explained what happened. I'll have to thank him, when we next see him.

"Because, we never had the urge to do so before, Danasaur." He shrugged, and I chuckle.

"You're too cute." I hum, and his cheeks redden further.

"Thank you." He whispers.

"Philion?" I ask, choosing to call him his nickname rather than Phil, because it's much more cute.

"Danasaur?" He replies, and I smile, leaning up slightly and reconnecting our lips.

"Fancy being my boyfriend?" I ask, looking up at him.

He just smiles, and presses his lips to mine again.

"Of course."