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He doesn’t want you.
You’re out there on the Internet, making an absolute fool of yourself and all it’s gonna accomplish is make Phil realise what an absolute git you are all the sooner.
He doesn’t want you because it has been almost half an hour since you posted that photo and he hasn’t commented yet.
Stupid.
Who would even want to look at you anyway? All these people are just having a laugh. It’s not like they think you’re actually sexy. They’re humoring you to get you to post more idiotic “tasteful” nudes that they can save to their hard drives and send to their friends.
You’re doing it for attention but all it gets you is the wrong kind of attention. Like always. Like all over again.
It’s been 35 minutes. You can’t delete it because other people have seen. God, the fact that you’re even contemplating deleting it just says it all, doesn’t it? Pathetic.
It’s been 37 minutes but you need a drink anyway. Only a drink, though! No snacks because you of all people know how hard it was to get one single good shot of that flabby gut of yours. Of course he doesn’t want you.
It’s been 40 minutes when you come back to your computer, and there’s a new reply.
lmao this is the best one yet <3
At first you smile but then you frown. You stare in confusion at the perfect counterbalance between lmao and <3. What does it mean? lmao he’s laughing at you. <3 he likes you.
The signature clonk of a Skype message almost sends you out of your chair.
Phil: Video?
This is exactly what you wanted, this is why you spent an hour fixing your hair, and now you’re being precious about it? Press the button, you fool! Call!
“Hi Dan!” Phil says with a smile and waves that awkward wave, and you could just throw yourself out the window right now, surely it would be less agonising than this. “Aww, you put clothes back on?”
He sounds genuinely put out and you can’t stop that stupid fucking laugh no matter how much you want to.
“Yeah, naked gaming is a bit chilly for October.” You’ve said it before you’ve really thought it through, and now you’re trying desperately not to blush because you didn’t mean to imply anything might be shrinking!
“We definitely want you to stay warm,” Phil agrees with what is surely a smirk.
It makes you break out in stinky sweat instantly, a full body flush that makes you extra glad you’re wearing clothes.
“What were you playing?” Phil asks and it makes you laugh again.
“I wasn’t actually playing anything, you git! I was concentrating on taking a cool photo, wasn’t I?”
“Oh,” Phil says and it makes you feel a bit guilty for laughing at him. “So that’s not your real gamer face?”
It makes your head spin a little although you don’t know exactly why. “I’m sure my actual gamer face is way more stupid.”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Phil huffs quietly. He’s being weirdly quiet today. Almost timid. It makes you want to run around and break stuff.
“Are you saying you want to see my real gamer face?”
Phil looks up and into the camera and he smiles that smile that makes fear and regret swoop through your belly.
“I wanna see all your real faces,” he replies.
You could scream. What does it mean? He doesn’t want you! You’re an idiot! You just want attention, doesn’t matter who it’s from. You better shut your—
“I don’t have any real faces,” you say solemnly. “They’re all fake.”
Phil has the good manners to laugh. Good. He should ignore you.
“Maybe once you come here we can test that out,” he says.
Right. You’re coming there. You’re going. It’s still entirely too much to think about.
“You want to play video games? With me?” You’re doing that stupid exaggerated thing with your face again. Why do you do that? It’s not cute. You’re supposed to be a man for god’s sake.
Phil shrugs and grins and it looks a bit sheepish, which makes you crowd closer to the screen to get a better view of his grainy image.
“I’m just saying we could turn the heat up...”
You sit up so fast it makes something crack in your spine. Surely that’s why your head is spinning. It takes another moment before your pulse kicks up but when it does it sends another wash of heat through you.
“I run pretty hot, actually,” you say stupidly.
Phil tips his head and looks at you, and it’s so much. “Do you?”
“Yeah, look, I get all flushed,” you say and turn your head to show him that stupid weird patch, blood running right under the surface of your skin, all the way down your neck to your chest. You yank your t-shirt collar down.
Phil licks his lips and stares. It’s so exactly what you wanted, but for some reason it doesn’t feel good or exciting it just feels quiet. It feels like you’re in the eye of the storm and the next thing out of Phil’s mouth will decide your fate entirely.
“Aww, you’re all red. Want me to blow on it?”
You fall forward and stare at the video feed. Phil looks... something. Cheeky? Pleased with himself? A little nervous?
Your laugh is delayed, a kind of incredulous guffaw. “That is... the lewdest thing I think anyone has ever said to me!”
Phil chuckles but he still seems at ease. “Sorry. Should I apologise?”
“I mean, only if you didn’t mean it.” Your eyebrows are in your hairline by now and you are definitely sweating.
“Oh. Well. I did.”
“You did mean it?”
“I did.”
There’s a stubborn tilt to his jaw that makes you want to taste it.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
Maybe he does want you...