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Phil set the basket of laundry on his bed, already having emptied the contents of his hamper into it. It was Wednesday, which meant it was laundry day. Wednesday was always laundry day. He collected mismatched socks and a few other stray articles of clothing from his bedroom before he walked out into the corridor.
He looked towards Dan’s room, balancing the basket against his hip as he rapped against the closed door with the back of his hand.
“Dan?”
The was a muffled response of sorts that came from within the room, which Phil took as a greeting of entry. He set the basket down on the floor, turning the knob to Dan’s door.
The younger boy was seated at his computer, eyes glued to the screen as he ran through separate snippets of their latest video, stopping and starting, taking bits out, keeping things in. His fingers hovered over the mouse.
“Dan.”
Phil’s voice was slightly irritated.
“Just a sec,”
Dan held up a finger, playing back a chunk of audio. Phil rolled his eyes, moving from his position by the door. He stalked into the room, going to root through Dan’s wardrobe. He yanked out the hamper, throwing straggling pieces of clothing into it as he made his way back to the door. He proceeded to dump Dan’s hamper into the basket on the floor. He frowned as the black garments mixed with his own blue and green ones.
Dan turned slightly in his chair.
“What’s up?”
He popped his lips. Phil’s brows furrowed slightly, eyes narrowing at the sight of Dan’s shirt.
“Didn’t you wear that yesterday?”
Dan looked down, pulling the fabric out slightly from his chest, shrugging.
“I dunno. Maybe.”
Phil huffed.
“You’ve worn that three days in a row. You should wash it.”
Dan shrugged again, turning back around in his chair.
“It’s still clean.”
“I don’t believe that. I saw you spill milk on it yesterday.”
Dan pulled the black shirt up over his nose, taking a dramatic breath.
“It’s still clean.”
Phil’s body grew tense. He marched over to Dan, throwing the other boy’s hamper aside with force. He stuck out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
Dan looked up from his chair, hands on the desk. His tone grew slightly sassy.
“Excuse me?”
Phil’s icy eyes hardened.
“I said give it to me.”
“It’s just a shirt, Phil. Chill out.”
Phil all but stamped his foot. He was growing tired of Dan’s charade to keep the dirty shirt.
“It’s Wednesday.”
Phil emphasized.
“So?”
Dan drawled, his eyes fixed back on the computer screen as he cut to another frame.
“So,”
Phil had to contain himself.
“it’s laundry day. Wednesday is always laundry day.”
Dan looked back up at the older boy, who had a displeased look plastered across his face, his fists clenched.
“Relax, Phil.”
Phil had had enough of this. He beat his fist down on Dan’s desk, rattling the array of knickknacks and his mug of tea.
“Just give me the damn shirt!”
Dan was taken aback, and had pushed his chair away slightly from the desk. A coy smile broke across his face.
“You want it? Come and get it.”
Phil lunged towards Dan, who scooted the chair just out of Phil’s grasp. The younger boy hooted with laughter as Phil dove through the empty space and plummeted to the floor. Dan was holding his sides he was laughing so hard.
Phil growled, looking up at Dan as he pushed himself up off the floor. Dan didn’t like that look. He stood, pushing the chair at Phil to keep some space between them. Phil dove for him again.
“Phil, stop it! You’re scaring me.”
This time, Phil’s arms came completely around Dan, tackling the other boy to the floor. All the air left Dan’s lungs as Phil landed on top of him. He coughed, moaning. Phil looked amused.
“Got you.”
“Not so fast,”
Dan wheezed, rolling out from underneath Phil. He managed to scoot away some, blocking Phil’s hit to his shoulder. He smacked the older boy’s hands away, the two smacking at each other’s wrists.
“Just give it up already, Dan!”
“You’ll never take me alive!”
Dan hollered. Phil pounced on him, a ridiculous-sounding meow escaping him. He pinned Dan to the floor, straddling the other’s body with his knees on either side. Dan went to push him off when Phil’s hands caught his wrists. Their eyes locked for a moment, Dan’s were wide, almost petrified.
Phil’s fingers went to the hem of Dan’s shirt, pulling it up. He removed Dan’s arms from the sleeves.
“I’ll take this, thank you very much.”
He looked back down, Dan’s russet eyes wide with confused awe, his chest bare now without the dark garment hugging the curves of his body. Phil’s eyes slowly moved over the planes of Dan’s chest. He felt heat in his cheeks as he watched Dan’s chest rise and fall more rapidly.
“What are you playing at?”
Dan rasped, pushing up onto his elbows. Phil visibly shrunk back, clutching Dan’s shirt to his chest.
“I…uh…I…”
Dan’s eyes narrowed.
“I just wanted…just wanted…to…wash this…”
Phil threw the shirt aside, defeated.
Dan sat up, his legs still pinned beneath Phil. Their chests almost touched. Dan’s hands came up onto Phil’s cheeks.
“W-what are you doing?”
Phil stammered.
“Shh…I want to try something.”
Dan slowly tilted his neck, pressing his lips softly against Phil’s.
It was like the older boy had been hit suddenly with a ton of bricks. He knelt there, still, Dan’s lips on his own, the other’s exposed flesh inches from his own body.
Phil couldn’t help it, he pressed back into Dan’s kiss. The younger’s arm came around his back, tangling his fingers in raven hair. Dan dropped onto his back.
Phil moaned, bemused. He slowly sank into Dan’s touch, pressed up over the other boy. Dan rolled them over so that he was on top, his pressure against Phil’s lips increasing.
Phil felt Dan slide his tongue along his own lips, seeking entrance. He slowly parted his bow lips, feeling Dan’s tongue rake along his teeth, the hot, wet muscle invading his mouth.
Phil’s hand came up to Dan’s back, his fingers pressing into the warm skin. He flipped Dan onto his back, both of them battling for control. Their teeth gnashed at each other, kisses wet and sloppy as they feebly attempted to remain in power.
Dan wound his leg around Phil’s back, pressing up into the older’s touch. He moaned obscenely at the feeling of Phil’s lips on the flesh of his neck.
Phil was slightly taken aback, and pulled off.
“No, no, more.”
His voice was different. Deeper. Phil licked his lips, pressing them back against Dan’s neck, who hummed with appreciation. He rolled his hips up against Phil, pulling at his shirt, grabbing at whatever he could.
“Dan,”
Phil started, his own voice altered.
Dan let out a breathy sigh, his hands stilling from where they were fisting in the fabric of Phil’s shirt.
“Mhmm…”
Dan pulled himself up to meet Phil, wrapping his mismatched socked feet about the older boy, tilting his neck to kiss him. He peppered tiny little kisses across Phil’s cheek and jawline, then moved his lips up to softly brush them across Phil’s lash line and eyelids.
Phil hummed contentedly.
They stayed like that for a while, Dan kissing across Phil’s face whilst Phil’s hands absentmindedly stroked up and down Dan’s bare back.
Slowly, Dan’s hand had moved down off of Phil’s shoulder, his fingers dragging lazily down the other boy’s chest, fingertips thumping softly when they hit a divot. Phil sighed against Dan’s neck, his teeth gently biting at the sensitive skin.
Dan hissed, pushing up on his legs some.
Dan’s breath was like a whisper across Phil’s skin, making all his hair stand on end.
Dan’s hand moved down even further, brushing over the waist of Phil’s slacks.
That was when the other boy pulled off. He backpedaled away from Dan, his eyes wide. His pale skin was flushed and his lips were puffy and glimmered with a sheen of saliva.
They sat apart from each other, chests heaving out of sync, just staring at each other.
Phil abruptly stood, snatching the tee shirt that had caused all of this fuss before scampering out of the room. Dan heard a door slam from within the flat.
He sat, gob smacked, his brows furrowed, mouth open. Slowly, he stood, peeking his head around the jamb of his door. No Phil.
He stepped out further into the corridor, seeing the discarded hamper of laundry. Odd. He figured Phil would’ve wanted to take that with him.
Dan heard a moan from around the corner, something not sitting right with him. He rounded the corner, grimacing.
He slowly reached out for the doorknob, opening the toilet door.
“Phil, are you alright? I mean—”
Dan stopped, his entire body recoiling.
“Dan! Get out!”
The door slammed in his face, but the younger boy just stood there processing the sight he had just seen. Phil had the tee shirt in one hand, looking to be inhaling the scent, and his other hand…Dan clamped his hands over his eyes, as if the action would rid his memory of the image.
“Oh, for the love of God, Phil!”
Dan shoved his fingers into his ears, racing around the corner, nearly tripping over the hamper of laundry.
“Lalalalalalalala!!! I can’t hear you, nor do I want to!!!”
Dan removed his fingers for only a split second to pull a new shirt over his head, slapping headphones over the exposed orifices, turning the volume of the Muse song to an excruciatingly loud volume. He took the basket of laundry from the hallway, stepping into his shoes at the door as he made his way to the laundry room.
He was shoveling 20p pieces into the machine when he heard footfalls behind him. He had already started a load of laundry, seperating out his and Phil’s clothing.
Phil was standing behind him, his face tomato red, looking down at his shoes.
He protruded, from behind his back, the wadded black shirt. Dan looked at it with disgust.
“I…uh…you wanna wash it now?”
He looked up at Dan, ashamed.
Dan looked bitterly between Phil and the shirt, stalking over to snatch it out of his hand. A look of horror spread across Phil’s face when Dan deposited the shirt in the bin at the corner of the room, taking a book of matches off the shelf. He struck one up, dropping the ignited stick into the bin.
“R.I.P. tee shirt.”
Dan scowled at Phil.
“Dan, I…”
Phil started. Dan picked up the hamper that he had loaded.
He stopped in front of Phil, who looked down at his Vans.
Dan searched for the words. He refused to look Phil in the eye.
“I’m not kink shaming you or anything…just…do me a favour and never compliment my socks again, ok?”
Phil nodded sullenly, listening to the sound of Dan’s footsteps fade as he walked towards the stairs.
The timer on the dryer suddenly pinged and Phil perked up.
“Ooh!”
He started towards the machine, which was loaded with Dan’s clothes.
The footfalls on the stairs stilled.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Phil turned, running to meet up with Dan on the stairs.
“Uh, Dan, about that pair of socks that went missing…”
“Phil, I don’t want to know.”
Phil looked back down at his shoes as they silently ascended the stairs.
There was the sound of a faraway car alarm going off.
“So…Dan…now that you know about my…uh…”
“Fetish,”
Dan offered bitterly. Phil blushed a million shades of red.
“Is there…uh…like anything I should know…about you?”
Dan stopped at the top of the steps, turning to Phil.
“I’m like an open book.”
He winked at Phil, clicking his tongue.
“Uh oh.”
Phil watched Dan walk further down the corridor.
“Dan!”
He called, racing to catch up.
“Is there a wink fetish?”
Dan stopped dead in his tracks. He wouldn’t turn to look at Phil. He quickened his pace.
“Dan!”
“Phil, stay away from the internet!”
“Dan, why?!”
“Just listen to me for once!”
A small look of realization flashed across Phil’s face.
“Dan? Do you have a wink kink?”
Dan took the stairs two at a time.
“This is not a conversation to be yelling down the corridor, Phil!”
“Ah-ha! You do, don’t you! You have a wink kink!”
“Shut up, Phil!”
Dan had disappeared into the flat. One of their neighbours had stepped out of her own flat to pick up her morning paper that had been delivered. Phil tried to crack a smile, nervously jamming his hands into his pockets.
“Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”
He ducked inside the flat, slamming the door. He leaned back against it, breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon.
The flat was oddly quiet.
“Dan?”
He called.
“Phil, c’mere.”
Phil slowly ventured towards the sound of Dan’s voice, freezing in the doorway to the younger’s bedroom.
Dan was lying on his side atop his bed, one of his socks between his teeth. He winked seductively at Phil.
“Uh…”
Dan beckoned him towards the bed. Phil shut the door.
Phil’s voice had carried into the corridor.
“D-Dan! Dan! Ohmigod Dan!”
Their neighbour, Mrs. Peterson, cracked her crisp newspaper, shaking her head.
“About time those two shagged.”