I woke up before Dan did. We were still on the couch. He looked so peaceful when he slept. I decided to get up and go fix us some breakfast. Pancakes and bacon. Dan's favourite. I guess the smell of frying bacon woke him up because right as I was putting the bacon onto our plates, Dan walked in. His hair is a beautiful mess. He has bags under his eyes. He sits down at the table without saying a word. I set his plate and utensils in front of him and sit across from him. He starts on his bacon, and I do the same.

"Dan-" I try to start.

"Phil, we don't need to talk about it right now. It can wait until all the bacon is gone." He goes to the fridge and gets the syrup. We eat in silence. Once we have both finished, I clean up the mess and start on the dishes. Dan comes and helps by drying and putting away the dishes; I wash and rinse. That's the usual routine. We finish and dry our hands.

"Phil, can you tell me what all of that was last night?" Dan asks. He's fidgeting with the bracelets on his right wrist.

"It was just a stupid comment. I didn't mean to take it out on you, Dan." He looks me in the eyes. His eyes are a nice shade of brown. Not the ugly, dark, almost black, brown. But the nice, lighter shade of brown. I could stare into them forever and not get bored with the color.

"There has to be more to it, because you never let the comments get to you like that." Now I'm the one fidgeting. "Come on, Phil. What's bothering you?" I'm debating whether or not I should tell him that I might have a little crush on a certain brown haired male.

"I'm not comfortable talking about it," I almost whisper as he gives me a look of disbelief.

"Why wouldn't you be comfortable telling me? For Christs sake, Phil, we tell each other everything!" He's wearing a look of hurt.

"I know! It's just-" I don't know. I have no idea why I'm not telling him. I'm not scared of the way he'll react. I know how he'll react. Nothing will change between us. Am I just not ready for him to know? I'll just go with that. "I'm not ready for you to know?" I mentally slap myself. I shouldn't have phrased it as a question.

"Seriously, Phil? That's what you're going with? That you're not ready for me to know? What is it? Are you gay? Secretly married to a hamster? Do you jerk off to a picture of Hannah Montana? Because if you do I'm fine with that. We've all done it." I tried not to laugh. Failed. He joined in.

"Dan, you have dried blood under your nose." I stopped laughing and I felt guilt run through my veins. "I am so sorry." I feel tears start to form.

"It's okay, Phil. I can wipe the blood off my face. But you can't wipe that bruise off of yours." He adds with a wink. He gets up and walks to the bathroom. I'm guessing to shower. I walk to my room to look in the mirror. Dan was right. This bruise is going to be here for a while.

I lay on my bed, looking up to the ceiling. Should I tell Dan? He deserves to know. I'm not even sure if it's a crush. Maybe all best friends feel this way once in a while. It's not like I think about him every moment of every day. I mean, we live together. Of course I'm going to notice things about him I like. Like the way he laughs when he thinks something is really funny. Or when he makes jokes in a serious conversation to lighten the mood. Or the way he looks when he wants something but he's scared to ask. Those are all beautiful things about him. He's just a beautiful person. Anyone with eyes can see that. So maybe it's not a crush.

My bedroom door opens and Dan comes in. In just his boxers. His hair is still soaking wet. I sit up trying not to stare.

"Do you have a shirt I can borrow?" He asks. I nod. He goes to my dresser and starts searching for a shirt he would wear. I see the muscles on his back moving. He's not exactly the fittest person in the world. He doesn't have abs. But he is still beautiful.

He seems to find a shirt he is satisfied with. "Thanks," he says as he walks out of my room. I study him as we walks out.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is a crush.