Phil's POV
It's been seven years since he left me. It's been seven years of no contact, not a word spoken. Yet today after all that time he's here, on my doorstep.
He smiles at me. I shut down. I can't breathe. He's back. How is this possible? I stumble back, let him in. Oh would you believe it? He's there talking. What is he saying? Shit! Shit! I need to calm down. If I act weird, he might leave. Oh! He's so beautiful. I try to say something, anything but I haven't breathed since I opened my door to him. The earth tilts...
He caught me before I hit the floor. He's calling my name. I don't answer. I don't move. His arms around me are the best thing in the world. He's lifted me up. When did he get so strong? He could've never picked me up before.
He's laying me on the couch, still calling my name. No! I don't want his arms to leave me just yet. I get the strength to wrap my arms around him. I never want to let him go. I hold him to me. He feels so good. I feel so good.
He pulls away. He has an odd look on his face. Oh God did I misinterpret his reasons for being back? I can't think. I just need to hold him. I feel so incomplete without him. He probably hates me now. He didn't come back to stay. I stop breathing again.
What? His lips are moving, but I can't hear him. The roaring in my ears is too loud. He's shaking his head. He's getting up. He's walking away. I can't take him leaving again. I try to get up. To run after him. My legs tremble too much. I fall, hitting the floor hard. Tears start to form. How could he tease me like that? He can't just come back and leave again. I begin to sob curling in on myself. I still can't hear anything.
I feel a hand touch me. I look up. He's back. He didn't leave? He shows me a glass of water. He puts the glass up to my lips and I drink. He asks if that's better. I clear my throat and say his name.
He looks at me with concern in his eyes. I don't understand the look. He should be disgusted with my behavior. I've been acting like an overdramatic girl.
His hand lifts a tear from my cheek. Why is he being kind? He kisses the tear. I'm confused by his actions. He smiles sadly at me. My eyes widen and suddenly I don't care about anything.
I tackle him and pin him to the floor. I grab his hands, hold them above his head. I ask him why. Why did he leave me for so long? I start to cry again and I bury my face in his shoulder saying over and over again that I love him. That I need him. That he should never leave me again.
He tugs his hands out of my grip. He wraps his arms around me, shushing me. He strokes my hair and I cry harder. I've missed him so much. Seven years he's denied me the other half to my soul. Seven years he's left me struggling to live once again without him.
I tell him this. I look up needing to see his face as I pour my heart out to him. Does he even care that he left me broken? I don't give him a chance to answer. I crush my lips to his. I kiss him passionately, every broken feeling, every hurt, I pour into that kiss.
I feel him respond to my kiss. I taste regret and something else. Something I can't identify. I don't care at the moment. There will be time to talk later. Now I just need to feel him under me.
Desperately I rip his clothes off. I feel him ripping mine off too. I run my hands along his body. I can't keep my hands off him. I stroke everywhere, taking in the feel of him. Feeling the changes that time's had on him. I need in him. I shove my fingers in front of his mouth. He knows what to do. He sucks them, making me even more desperate. I whip then out of his mouth and move down. As I prepare him, I'm greeted with a pleasant tightness. He hasn't been with a man in a long time. A spark of pleasure runs down my spine as I imagine that I am the only man to touch him. He moans, and I deem him stretched enough. I kiss him as I slowly sink into him. He's so tight, and I've been waiting for this moment for years. It takes a great deal of restraint not to pound into him hard. Once fully seated in him I pause, give him a moment to adjust. He's panting, I can hear him telling me to move already. I smirk and give into his pleads. I begin thrusting into him, varying from quick and hard to slow and languid thrusts.
I make love to him everywhere. The floor, the couch, the table, somehow ending up in bed. He lays panting against me, exhausted. I fall asleep with him wrapped up in my arms, knowing he'll be there in the morning. I feel happy for the first time in a long time.
It's been seven years since he walked out that door and he's finally back.
Author's Note: Well there's Phil's POV of their reunion. I don't have Dan's completely done yet. It's been giving me a little trouble. I wanted to explain too why there wasn't any dialogue in this little fiction. In my other fanfictions and original stories I noticed they were 95% dialogue, so I challenged myself to write something with no dialogue at all. This is the result.