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Phil is not in love, because that would be silly.
But he's in something, something that makes his eyes linger when the boy with the messy brown curls laughs loud and bright in a way that across the room. He's tall and lean and broad with his gestures, bumping shoulders with a guy that Phil knows from a few shared courses.
And that's enough, Phil decides. That's enough to make it okay for Phil to bumble across the room in a halfway drunken manner.
He's far from the only one, at least. It's this year’s ice-breaker party, the queer social’s big start of term event, and everyone's getting reacquainted with old friends and new friends and all their favorite drinks.
"Phil, mate!" The guy from his class, Carlin? Carson? Carton? "How you been? I didn't see you 'round this summer!"
"Went back to Manchester for a bit," Phil says, smiling friendly. He lets his eyes cut across just long enough to make it appropriate for-
"Don't think we've properly met," the guy says, grinning and sticking a hand out. "I'm Jimmy."
Phil takes his hand, something pleasant swooping in his stomach. "Hi, Jimmy. I'm Phil."
*
Phil doesn't even notice when Carsomething wanders off, because Jimmy's telling him a story about his history course and how his seminar tutor is obsessed with farming and Phil is listening, he's definitely listening very intently, but he's also looking at Jimmy's mouth far too much to be polite.
Jimmy's notices, Phil is fairly sure, because Phil is actually the worst at things like this. His technique for pulling tends to be more on the side of making his interest obvious and inviting someone else to make the first move.
But Jimmy keeps looking back, and sidling in closer, and Phil has that delicious tingle in his gut that tells him tonight might end exactly the way he wants.
*
Jimmy kisses him on the balcony outside of the venue, where they escaped to under to the pretense of enjoying the view of the lake. It’s dark out and the lights on the bridge are pretty but right now Phil really couldn’t care less about anything except Jimmy’s mouth and where this might lead.
“This okay?” Jimmy asks.
“Yeah,” Phil says, hands sliding up Jimmy’s arms and feeling the faint definition of his bicep. His stomach flips pleasantly. Boys are so nice. They feel nice, and they kiss nice, and everything about this is nice.
Phil’s done this a few times at uni, not too often but just enough to feel more excited than scared about where this venture into flirtation could lead.
They make out against the railing until Phil’s restless for something else. Karaoke has ended and the loudest and drunkest are piling into taxis to the only gay club in town. They could go. Phil could suggest it. But.
"My flat's nearby," Phil says, licking his already damp bottom lip.
It's late and he's feeling particularly bold.
*
They don’t encounter anyone that stops them for conversation on the walk back to Phil’s room.
"I should say," Jimmy says, with his hands up the back of Phil's shirt and one of Phil's thighs between his legs. "That I've got a boyfriend, sort of."
Phil pulls back instantly. "What?"
"We've taken a break," Jimmy says. "From monogamy. But we're still in love, so if you're looking for like- more. This probably isn't that."
It is a disappointment, but only a momentary one. Because Phil's hard and he doesn't want to go home alone and it's okay, he's learned over the past year, for every single romantic encounter not lead down the road of planning forever. "Okay," Phil says, easily enough, and starts to undo Jimmy's jeans.
*
Jimmy's naked and stretched out on Phil's bed. He's got a good body and Phil appreciates the view, almost as much as he appreciated the blowjob a few minutes ago.
"I should go soon," Jimmy says, yawning and looking very much like he doesn't want to move.
Phil thinks about inviting him to stay. But he knows how he gets the morning after, when everything feels cold and lonely, and he knows how hopeful he gets when he wakes up beside someone else.
Jimmy's got a boyfriend, and Phil doesn't want to feel those things for someone he can't have. So he just makes an amiable noise, neither a yes nor a no, and stands up. As he pulls on his pants and a t-shirt he asks, "Do you want some water? I'm parched."
"Water would be great," Jimmy says, smiling up at Phil.
When Phil comes back, Jimmy's dressed again. He takes the water from Phil and downs it in three long gulps. The way his throat moves is distracting and Phil has to look away before he talks himself into something that he'll regret.
"Are you coming to the pizza night on Thursday?" He asks, grabbing his jacket. "I'd love to hang out. Actually, you know, chat and stuff. I'd love to pick your brain, because I've got this idea for a thesis on history and media. Could really use the input of someone who knows more about it."
He seems genuinely interested, and a different kind of warmth replaces the remnants of distracted lust in Phil's mind. "Yeah," he says. "That'd be great."
"Awesome," Jimmy says, and there's a beat or two of awkwardness before he steps in for a hug and a quick kiss. "And, you know. Thanks. For the orgasm and such."
Phil laughs loud, almost like a bark. "Yeah, you too."
*
Phil sees Jimmy off and then drops back into bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Not the worst start to a new term.