A rather short chapter, but I hope you'll like it!
Have fun :)

Something has changed. It is almost tangible. Something between them has changed… and it's not the obvious things. It's something invisible, something… deep.

Phil is still lying in his arms, plastered all along him, but at some point along the night he has turned around in Stephen's embrace and has his face is now buried aginst the broad chest. An arm is wrapped around Stephen's middle in a loose hold and a leg is hooked behind his and because this is just too good, lying here with Phil like this with barely any space between them left, he smiles a happy little smile that is never seen by the man who has caused it. There is a sigh, a tiny movement and if possible, the body in his arms presses even closer. Carefully so as not to wake the man who's peacefully sleeping in his arms, he rearranges the blanket in an attempt to keep the cozy warmth like a cocoon around them.

The daylight peeks through the half closed blinds, its rays smoothing over the wall and the furniture like careful fingers and Stephen watches the changing patterns of light and dark it is creating in the room, yet he doesn't really see it. His gaze is distant, fixed at an invisible point… deep within himself.

At some point during the night he has woken up, spending confused seconds on understanding that it hasn't been just a dream. Phil is really lying in his arms. Everything his addled, drowsy mind brings up… the memory of Phil opening up to him, the sweet kiss, the touches… it all is real.

It is real… that he is in love with Phil.

And in an odd way it feels so right. It is also strange though, knowing that he loves Phil, since it makes things easier and complicated at the same time.

But at least there is no need anymore now to be confused and frightened about his own feelings. He knows now what he feels. It is easy to know it. How can he not? It's written in capital letters all over his heart.

But now things have become more difficult, too, because Phil… Phil has not shown the merest of hints that this is really mutual. How can he be sure that there is more behind it than confused and sickness-induced weakness based on gratefulness. The signals he receives from Phil are not… clearly.

There has been everything from I might want you to fuck off, with some maybe there's more mixing into it. And last night? The trust Phil has shown? The question if he wants to stay another night? Those tiny, shy and sweet touches when Phil thought he was asleep? The kiss to his temple and not least seeking closeness, sleeping in his arms? There is a yes written on all this.

But Phil… he has not given him an answer. He had come to his locker to find out about what he feels. And ever since Phil avoides… or rather refuses… to say what it is he is feeling.

But maybe Phil is only afraid of what might happen if he allows this to become more? After what that bastard has done to him?

Stephen blinks slowly. His gaze sweeps down to a mess of raven hair, falling unruly. Strands of it stick out in impossible directions. And it looks… cute. A soft shimmer lies on it due to the golden light that falls through the blinds, that simple sight alone addictive enough as it asks to be touched. He does not, because he doesn't want to wake Phil, doesn't want to disturb the much needed sleep.

Become more… Isn't it already… more? Maybe it is. To Stephen it definitely is more and maybe, just maybe, it is more to Phil, too, and it's the reason why he does not say what he feels. Because he doesn't want to get hurt again.

Complicated. All this.

Whatever. He has come to far, has managed to somehow get through the antitank barrier like wall Phil has been hiding behind and he hopes, wishes that Phil will not only allow him to stay with him behind that wall, but also… well… take the hand Stephen holds out to him. And maybe it is time Phil needs. And distance, now that they have come closer. To think and feel. Stephen is willed to give him both, no matter how much the waiting and hoping will hurt him.

A soft sound brings him back to the here and now, followed by a movement of the man lying in his arms and for a second he's sure Phil is awake now and tries to get out of the embrace. But no. Phil stays right where he is and happy about being allowed to dwell some more in holding the man who has captured his heart, Stephen tilts his head a little until he can drop a kiss to the raven hait, while bringing a hand up to feel the soft shimmering strands between his fingers, because he simply needs to. Blue eyes slip close. And he wishes they could stay like this forever.

His mind falls silent. But only for the shortest of moments…

It is now that he becomes aware of that so very soft touch... and then… fingers, trailing over the small of his back in a lazy caress. His eyes open again, his gaze falling to the raven hair and he wishes he could see Phil's face. Words lie on his tongue, forming questions, but somehow he's almost afraid to speak. Afraid that Phil could feel caught, might stop that caress, because it feels much too good.

"I know you're awake."

It is barely more than a whisper what reaches Stephen's ears. Warm breath ghosts over the skin of his chest. The caress… does not stop.

"How are yer feeling?" he asks hushed, because he has no idea what else to say.

I feel good holding you like this. Do you love me, too? Is there a future for us? He can't say that, can't ask those questions, no matter how much he wants to hear Phil say… yes. If Phil feels his troubles, he doesn't know, but for a long moment there is quietness. A quietness in which Phil's fingers keep their caress up. A quietness in which Stephen tries to tighten his hold on Phil as innocently as even possible.

Then: "I'm not sure."

And Phil really sounds… uncertain. Stephen blinks slowly. This answer seems not refer to his state of health, but to whatever there is between them and the way it is spoken does not tell of a happily ever after. Here it comes, he thinks, bracing for Phil's next words.

"What do you expect from me, Stephen?" Phil asks, his voice careful and very quiet and Stephen feels the fingers on the small of his back stop their travel.

It could have been worse, he thinks as he hears those words and although the caress has stopped, Phil's hands stays there. More important, the smaller man makes no move to get out of his arms.

"I… I expect nothing from yer," Stephen replies equally quiet. "But I hope, Phil. I hope tha yer give me a chance to show yer tha I'm serious."

A sigh, heavy and Phil's warm breath is fleeting over his skin again, sends tiny goosebumps all over his body. And in a way this sigh sounds as if Phil is fighting with himself.

"I'm not sure if I can give you what you want."

There is a chance that his mind plays tricks on him, but it almost sounds as if regret is lying in these words. As is a part of Phil wants to give in, but a bigger, wary part doesn't let him. But he takes the fact that they are still lying here together as a good sign and so he dares to bury his fingers in the raven locks and plant a kiss to the top of the other man's head.

"Yer already gave me more tha I could have expected and I think… also more than yer have expected yourself," he murmurs and the way the dark hair tickles against his lips is… nice. "All I ask from yer is to think about it."

And please God, make him give me a chance…

"You going back home today?" Phil asks then and somehow Stephen has known that he wouldn't give an answer to his question.

"Yeah, I've got some appointments tomorrow and I'm on the show the day after tomorrow," Stephen says and a naïve part of him hopes that Phil tells him that he comes with him for a few days. "I gotta go in about three hours or so. Need to check when the next flight goes."

A tiny sound of acknowlegdement follows. And only that. The quietness returns and because Stephen has decided to give Phil time and distance, he keeps quiet and holds on to his plan to leave in a few hours. For about an hour they lie there, not talking but staying wrapped up in each other and Stephen holds this close to his heart, because if Phil feels nothing for him, then why would he allow this closeness?

Eventually they get out of their nest and while Phil takes a shower, Stephen brushes his teeth, his gaze always fixed on the other man as he watches out for any sign that Phil is still too wobbly on his feet, but it looks like he has left the critical phase behind and Stephen is relieved to see that, since he now can leave without having to worry… but it also makes him feel sad, because Phil doesn't need him anymore. It has been a good feeling to be needed and now he also feels bad, because he shouldn't think that. Phil has needed him because he has been sick, not because he needed him. Shaking his head over his musing, he rinses his mouth and steps under the shower right after Phil gets out. Through the foggy veil on the glass wall of the shower he watches as Phil wraps his bathrobe tightly around himself and leaves the bathroom… not without taking a look back. There is a shy smile playing around his lips, one that Stephen hopes to be allowed to taste someday.

There is not much talking during the breakfast, mostly about the future RAW and Smackdown storylines and in the end it isn't more than a fair weather-talk. There's nothing left of the defiant Phil though who has tried so hard to push him out of his life and the mood between them is a strange mixture of uncertainty, ease and shyness and he does his best not to let the longing he feels for the other man seep into it, does his best not to put more pressure on Phil. And time runs. Too soon Stephen has to call a taxi.

His holdall sits beside the front door and Phil stands beside it, waiting for him as he makes his way from the kitchen to the door, and the expression on the smaller man's face is guarded, but in those green eyes there is a vivid sparkle of fleeting emotions. He comes to stand close to Phil, gazing down at him with a small smile on his lips and it brings that cute shy smile back to Phil's.

"Give yerself some more rest," he says and receives a tiny nod. "I, uhm, I left a note on yer fridge. Me number and me adress… " He trails off, nervously running his fingers through his hair. "Call me if yer need something or… maybe yer want to… come over for a few days…?"

Phil's gaze drops to the floor as he speaks and it causes him to trail off again. He shouldn't have said that. He simply should have let Phil find that note, it's self-explanatroy anyway. A number means: call me. An adress means: please follow me. There is nothing to misunderstand about it. With a silent sigh on his lips he bends down to grab his holdall and as he straightens up again, he finds the Phil's eyes locking with his again and the green orbs are brimming now with emotions, so much that those emotions threaten to spill over.

"Okay then, I guess it's time to go," Stephen mumbles, tries to keep the smile on his lips. And because he can't go just like that, he brings a hand up to cup Phil's face and breathes a fond kiss to his forehead. "Take care," he whispers against the warm skin and draws back then.

Just as his hand falls away from the still guarded face, it is caught off by Phil's. Fingers close around his, squeezing them gently. Maybe a thank you, maybe a promise? Maybe even both or… nothing. Maybe only wishful thinking that will leave a deep hurting behind, because maybe his wish will be only that. A wish.

The gentle hold vanishes as Phil steps away from him. With a tiny nod and a whispered bye Stephen turns away from him and walks out of the apartment and along the corridor and as he takes a look back over his shoulder, he catches a glimpse of Phil, standing at the door.

Just call me back, he thinks, prays.

But the only sound to be heard is his steps in the otherwise quiet corridor… and the sound of a door being closed. And as he takes another look over his shoulder, the corridor is empty. Much too empty. His mind, his whirling thoughts which have fallen silent over the past hours start running again, no matter how much he tells himself that nothing is lost. Time and distance, he repeats silently. Time and distance.

The way from Phil's apartment to the airport passes by in a blur, as does the time from walking into the airport until he sits in the plane, fumbling in his pocket to retrieve his phone and the very moment he wants to switch the flight modus on, its screen lights up, showing a message. From Phil.

- Thank you. -

The polite voice of a woman beside him tells him to please turn off the phone and he nods, moving his thumb over the screen as he types an answer.

- Anytime. -

Send. His message is gone, showing him Phil's again and he quickly switches the flight modus on, staring at the two words for a long while afterwards, somehow feeling like those innocent words are a step further in the right direction, before he stores the phone away and glances out of the window with a happy little smile on his lips.

Maybe, just maybe… Phil has taken his hand…

A review or two would be greatly appreciated ;3