Dan closed his eyes and waited for the words, the embarrassment, the horror- God, he didn't even know what.

And waited.

He cracked an eye open to find Phil staring at him, face a few shades paler than usual, his lips pressed tightly together in terror.

"Phil!"

"Okay! Okay." Phil took a deep breath, wincing as the words came tumbling out of his mouth all strung together as one sentence. "You said something about how handsome I was and about how you knew I liked guys and if you were turning me on and curiosity and about- uhm- f-fucking..." The curse word stuttered out of Phil's mouth, and cheeks were now no longer white, but flaming. He was still looking anywhere but at Dan, and Dan let his own gaze drop to study the window.

"Yeah?" Dan's voice broke as it went up an octave.

"Yeah. And um..." Phil gulped. "You said you wanted to t-try it out, with me, and we weren't going to get more chances like this to d-do it or else we'd be too nervous."

Dan exhaled. He'd also been known to try to drag people into stupid things when he was drunk, convinced that it was the best time to experience new things. So it didn't surprise him that he'd tried his very best to sway his flatmates opinion; it sounded very like him. But... sex? With his flatmate? Since when had he thought that was a good idea?

Since you decided it was rude to take people home now, his own voice said smugly, and he knew it was true; he just hadn't pondered it much besides when his mind wandered or when he was just about to fall asleep. The thought would come and pass instantaneously, only brought on because he hadn't gotten off with someone for... he didn't want to think about for how long.

"Well wait, hold on a second." Dan frowned, thinking. "Okay, so I said all this, and you just- what, agreed? Just like that?"

"No! No. I mean..." Phil dropped his head. "There's more to it."

Dan sat back to hear. If there wasn't a good reason for this, he was going to kill Phil. And his bloody beloved house plants, too.

"I- I knew you were drunk, and I wasn't as drunk, you know? So I sat you down. And you calmed down after a little bit, I thought, and you said sorry, and then you said you had vodka in your room and that we should have a sleepover like we always used to."

Ever devious Dan, ever too-trusting Phil. He knew where this was heading; inebriated Dan wanted the other person, whoever that happened to be, as without restriction as himself. Would he have pulled this on anyone besides Phil, though? Dan doubted it; Phil was the only one he trusted enough for something this serious, drunk or not. They were already close.

"So we went to my room and started playing games... I don't know... it gets sort of blurry after that."

Dan nodded. He knew Phil never had held his alcohol. Drunk Dan knew, too.

"And...?" Dan prompted. He knew that couldn't have been all, as Phil wasn't quite as surprised as Dan to find his flatmate in his bed, and Dan was determined to figure out how far Phil remembered.

Phil put his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, Dan. Please don't be angry with me."

Dan didn't promise one way or the other, though his resolve softened a fraction at Phil's pitiful tone.

Phil uncovered his face enough to keep relating last night's events, but his hands remained on his cheeks as though to keep his head from falling off.

"I'm not sure who started... well... we started... kissing," Phil admitted. The picture entered Dan's mind, and the same nice feeling from just before he woke up floated through his stomach again. He let it; the damage was already done, after all.

"And... I knew it wasn't right, even though it felt nice, so I said so, I remember that. And you were trying to be... to be s-sexy, I guess, so you reminded me you knew about the... lube... in my drawer..."

Dan could picture it, and maybe it was part memory, maybe not. Phil, red-lipped and flushed, stuttering and trying to back off, before Dan embarrassed himself... he wasn't sure why he ever entertained the idea that his older, sweet-dispositioned best friend would ever have tried to take advantage of him. It was, of course, Dan who wanted the thrill, and he should have known that.

Phil's fingers were inching up so he had to peek through them now. "And you were still trying to kiss me, and you... kissed my neck... and asked me to... uhm... f-fuck you."

Dan let the heavy silence settle in between them. He could imagine how hard it was for Phil, drunk and stumbling over the situation, to resist someone kissing him, someone offering themself so willingly, someone obviously eager for things to progress. Phil hadn't brought anyone home in ages, either, and if Dan was being honest, he'd suspected before that Phil had to've had a crush on him at some point. Drunk Dan had been very aware of all this. Drunk Dan had counted on it.

Dan took a glance around the room, at the empty vodka bottle, at the twisted sheets, at the various items askew in the room. He looked to Phil, hands over his face in shame. And horrible, gnawing guilt started to burn in Dan's stomach. He'd caused this. He couldn't remember it, but he'd caused it. All because of some stupid things he'd thought to himself that he'd never paid much attention to, brought to light by too much alcohol and a willingness to lose himself.

"Look, Phil..." Dan wanted to apologize, but more than anything, he wanted to fix it. He wanted to wipe the embarrassment away, remove any regrets and guilt and anything else Phil might have been feeling and tell him it was okay. He wanted to tell Phil it was all okay, he was okay, and that it wasn't his fault.

Phil's hands dropped to his lap. "I know you were drunk, Dan, and I know you don't remember, and I know you were just fucking around," Phil said in a monotone, not stuttering over the curse this time. Dan's words got stuck in his throat. "But it's my fault for saying yes, I was being stupid. I know you didn't want this and I... we can forget about it. It's fine."

There was such a forlorn finality in Phil's words that Dan couldn't help but feeling failed as a friend, like Phil was his puppy and he'd left him outside in the rain. Phil had liked him; Phil had been trying to resist because he was afraid this would happen, and now it had. Dan knew, too, that no number of "it's not your fault"s and "it's okay"s and "don't be sorry"s were ever going to fix that look on Phil's face, like his entire existence had come crashing down right in his very own room.

In that moment, Dan couldn't remember wanting more for his flatmate to be happy again.

He couldn't think of anything else to do; and they'd already crossed every barrier they'd possibly put up between themselves by now, right? Fuck it. He'd show Phil there was nothing to be ashamed of.

So he leaned in, tilting his head so he could reach Phil's lips.