DISCLAIMER THING:I don't own anything except the story idea..yeah
His breath was hot on my neck, flowing across my face, fogging up my glasses.
How did I get here? I don't remember...
I still have my glasses on, I don't normally go to bed with my glasses on. But I'm not in my bed. I'm in his bed. His long, lithe body pressed against my side. His face in the crook of my neck. I feel him stir beside me, a soft moan slipping from his slightly parted lips. I squeak in surprise as he pulls me tighter into his embrace.
I need to leave, I shouldn't be here when he wakes up. I pry his arm off me as gently as I can. He grumbles in his sleep and brings his arm up to the neck of my shirt, gripping it tightly. A small sigh of frustration passes my lips. I can't move without waking him up. Why am I in his bed? I am still fully clothed, as is he. I just - I don't remember anything. The last thing I remember is sitting on the lounge watching an old Friends episode. There was nothing else on, and neither of us could be bothered to put a movie on.
He stirred beside me once again, his grip loosened on my shirt. This could be my chance to escape!
Grabbing his hand, I slowly began to pull it gently off my shirt. I had spoken to soon.
He pulled away from me slightly, eyes fluttering open. He blinked a few times slowly, adjusting his eyes to the dim light in the room, before they focused on me. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe he wouldn't see me if I didn't move or make any noise.
"Phil?" He questioned quietly, his voice thick with sleep. I didn't move, or make a sound, slowly I opened one eye, taking a little peek at him. He was leaning on his elbow, staring at my face. His head was tilted slightly, one eyebrow raised, his lips twitched when he saw me open my eye, holding off a smile.
"Phil." He said, sitting up more now, he seemed annoyed, but I heard the slightly amused tone he had tried hiding.
"Morning Dan." I said quietly, opening my eyes properly, letting out my breath.
"Why are you in my bed Phillip?" He tilted his head slightly to the left. Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he rolled it slightly between his teeth, staring at me expectantly. I shook my head, dazed.
I shrugged, looking him in the eye.
"I don't remember..." I trailed off. Why couldn't I remember. I frowned down at my lap, playing with my fingers.
"You don't remember?" Dan asked, running his long fingers through his curly bed hair.
"No, I - I really don't. I - we were watching tv, and I..." I shrug, not really finishing my sentence. I looked up at Dan, his eyebrows pulled down into a frown. He ran his fingers through his hair again, scratching the back of his neck. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and groans in frustration, letting his hands fall into his lap.
"What's wrong Dan?" I ask, confusion evident on my face.
"I can't remember either!" He huffs grumpily as he climbs out of bed and stands there with his arms crossed, looking down at me.
"Last thing I remember is the same as you, watching tv, but you had fallen asleep." He frowns again.
I got up out of Dan's bed and stood in front of him.
"Look, don't worry about it Dan. Everything's okay and I'm sure it won't happen again. There's no point thinking about something you can't explain." I tell him, holding his upper arm. He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides.
"Alright Phil, I won't worry about it. But it's really weird. I don't remember anything. What if I killed someone? What if I'm a homicidal manic and we don't even remember!?" He walks around the room, arms swaying lazily by his side. I shake my head and chuckle.
"I'll fake an alibi for you Dan." I laugh.
"You'll get arrested for being an accomplice, don't be silly. You can't get arrested too. What will the fans do?" He's more talking to himself than me now.
"Want some breakfast?" I ask, snapping him out of his...whatever that was.
"Hmm? Sure." He says, stopping in place.
"Okay, don't get too caught up in whatever you're doing. It's Sunday you know, we have work." I remind him, walking out of his room.
"Yeah, lucky we woke up so early..." He says to my back, closing the door behind me.
Dan seemed to be back to normal by the time we got home. I could tell he was still slightly bugged about something while we were hosting our show. No one else seemed to notice, but I guess when you've been living with someone for long enough you can read them really easily.
"What do you want to do today?" I ask Dan, opening the front door to our flat. He shrugged.
"Maybe see if there are any good movies we haven't seen?" He suggested, groaning as we walked up the stairs.
"Why are there so many stairs?!" Dan complained, turning to look at me.
"It's good exercise at least." I chuckled in reply.
"What if I broke my legs and needed a wheelchair? I wouldn't even be able to leave my room." He said, I rolled my eyes at him.
"It's a good thing your legs aren't broken then." I said, putting my bag down.
"Yeah, but what if they were? I could easily break them falling down all these damn stairs." He argues.
"Then I'd just have to carry you up and down them." I said absentmindedly, pulling the bottle of milk we'd bought out of my bag.
"You'd carry me up and down the stairs?" He asked, eyebrow raised. I shrugged.
"That's what friends are for right?" I replied, putting the milk in the fridge.
"Yeah, I guess so." He said with a smile before turning and leaving the kitchen.
(AN: what am I doing with my life? Sigh. First story and all that, blah blah don't kill me)