Dan's POV
"Phil! I'm going to film, so turn the tv down!" Phil was currently sitting on the couch, halfway through an episode of Game of Thrones.
"What video?" he asked casually.
"Internet Support Group," I replied.
"Finally," he said, giggling.
"Shut up," I grinned.
"Do you want me to cook something or should we just get takeout?" He asked.
"It's like 4:30, how old are you? 80? 90?"
"I'm only four years older than you, you spork," Phil shot back with a smug look on his face, hitting me with a pillow.
"Okay, grandpa," I said sarcastically, "What are you gonna make?"
"I found a recipe for chicken that looks pretty good."
"Okay, should I order a backup pizza?"
"No."
"Are you sure? Remember last time?"
"It won't be like last time."
The last time Phil tried to cook a chicken it ended up disastrously with a smoke alarm, a visit from the fire department, and one black, burnt chicken leg. We still have no idea where the hell the rest of the chicken went. Truly one of the greatest mysteries that has ever occurred in human history. I suspect sock goblins.
"Okay, just call me when it starts burning and going up in flames, I'll order Chinese."
I walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass.
"I won't mess up the chicken!" Phil called as he sat up from the couch and advanced towards the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and smirked.
"Okay," I thought, "Camera, check, lighting, check, computer background." I shook the mouse to wake up the screen. "Check, Wine, check, okay, ready to film." I sat down in my chair and began to film.
"Hello, internet! Welcome to the place where a slightly drunk twenty-something-year-old gives totally unqualified advice to young teens in need of actual help." I sighed, "What has my life become?"
I grabbed the laptop off the table and read an email then gave some shitty advice. Then, I clicked once that caught my eye.
"Okay, this one is from Phil, age 31, from London.
Hi, Dan, so I have this problem. I think that I'm in love with my best friend, but I don't know if I should tell him. We've lived together for almost eight years and it might ruin our friendship if I tell him. What should I do?"
I was about to give some stereotypical advice like "Life's too short, so just get it off your chest", but then something occurred to me. I thought for a minute, then stared directly at the camera.
"Phil, you should tell him, because chances are, he might be in love with you, too."
I read a few more emails, gave some more mediocre advice, made a few jokes, then turned off the camera. I poured myself another glass of wine and downed it in a few chugs.
Today had been a perfectly normal day, woke up at 10, ate breakfast and watched anime with Phil, scrolled through Tumblr, and decided to make another internet support group. But something went weird today while filming. Unnatural. Strange. I sighed and plopped on my bed, grabbed my laptop and while scrolling through Tumblr, fell asleep.
Phil's POV
I sprinkled the chicken with salt and pepper, as the website said, and saw that the recipe required red wine. I checked the cupboards for wine, then realized that Dan took the last bottle for internet support group, where he read some emails, the emails, my email. That stupid email. I never should've sent it. I try to take my mind off of the email. Off of Dan.
Dan's POV
I woke up to a burning smell coming from the kitchen and Phil swearing loudly. I chuckled a little bit. What a fucking dork.
"Should I call Dominos?" I asked, mildly giggling as Phil frantically ran around the kitchen fanning the smoke alarm with a towel.
"Yes," he said, clearly embarrassed.
I grinned as Phil stopped fanning at the smoke alarm and turned off the oven and took out the chicken, which was completely burnt.
Phil's POV
Once we figured out the whole chicken situation, our pizza came. I set it on the table along with the chicken, which we tried to cut, but it ended up being completely burnt all the way through.
Things were awkward at dinner. We're both incredibly awkward people, but we're never this silent around each other, so I tried to break the ice.
"Internet Support Group, huh?" I asked.
Dan gave an awkward smile and a nod.
"Get any weird ones?" I smirked, then immediately regretted asking.
He chuckled a bit, and my heart did a little backflip. "Someone thought that they wanted to become a nudist."
I laughed, relieved at the thought of him missing my email somehow.
"There was also one that caught my eye," he started.
Fuck.
"Phil," his hazel eyes stared deep into mine, "You should have told me. Then I would've done this a lot sooner."
"Done what a lot soo-"
He suddenly leaned over the table, practically dipping his chest in the pizza, cupped my face in his hands, and put his lips to mine.
Before I could stop it, a small yelp escaped my lips. Idiot.
Dan backed away. "Oh, shit, it wasn't you. Just a coincidence. Okay." His eyes began to tear up as he turned and started to run to his room.
"Dan!" I shouted, "Wait."
He turned around and stared at me with teary eyes. "What?"
"Don't cry," I walked to him and put my hands on his shoulder, "Craft."
Dan stifled a laugh. "You're a fucking dork."
I pushed him against the wall and wrapped my arms around him, kissing him as my body curved into his. My hands ran down from his neck to his shoulders, to his arms, then to the small of his back. Suddenly, nothing mattered. Nothing except for us.
We laid there on his bed, my head resting on his chest, staring at the laptop that was playing the newest Internet Support Group.
"Phil, you should tell him, because chances are, he might be in love with you, too."