FicWad

~Dan~

I sit, broken, frozen, staring into space.
Phil had said no, he didn't love me.
Then he had gone, vanished into the dark night.
He had left me alone. And I felt so empty.
I thought that we'd have left it at that, that if he had said no then we would still be friends.
But no, I had fucked that up as well.
It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't made a fool of myself, hadn't kissed him, softly, sweetly, then told him and let him slip through my fingers, out of my grasp, my reach, my life even.
But I can't cry, can't move, I can only sit, paralyzed, but still somehow shaking.
No, not shaking from fear or anger, shivering from cold.
The Manchester winter was coursing through the empty apartment to help me clear my head, but was doing fuck all apart from making me freeze my arse off.
But I leave the windows open because I feel almost unworthy of warmth.

The phone rings, but I sit still.
It rings off after six rings, but then rings again.
I let it go off three more times, before finally picking it up.
"Dan?"
Pj's voice, scared, cracking, almost pleading.
"Pj, are you okay?" I ask, my voice as pathetic as his.
"I heard about you and Phil. I'm so sorry,"
"Wait, how? It's only been about three hours,"
"Dan, it's honestly been about seven. Haven't you looked outside the window?"
I hadn't taken in any surroundings, just sat and moped.
"Why did you ring?" I ask after a pause
"I thought it would be a good idea to tell you that I'm about to knock on your door,"
He rings off, then there's a quiet knock on the door.
I open it, and he flings himself into my arms, crying openly.
"Peej, what happened?" I ask, hugging him back.
"Chris- he chucked me. I proposed, and he said he couldn't do this anymore,"
"Oh my god, are you okay? I mean, was he horrible to you?"
"No, but he just left. That's why I came here, and on the way I heard about you and Phil,"
He lets go, and I lead him to the sofa, making him a cup of tea and bringing over some biscuits with it.
He's sobbing into his knees, shoulders shaking.
I wrap a blanket around his shoulders, hugging him more and coaxing him to drink some tea, but every time he tries he breaks down again, almost spilling it.
"Oh Pj, it's fine," I try and comfort him, but it has little effect. He just makes my shoulder wet with tears as well as his jeans and arms.
"Is it okay if I stay, Dan?"
"Of course it is! Come on, time for bed," I hold out a hand to him, and take him to Phil's room, before going to my own, lying awake and unsettled for the rest of the night.

~Pj~

At least the crying has stopped, but now I'm locked behind my own eyes.
Would it surprise anyone if I told them that I wasn't really here?
Maybe it would, but to others it's right in front of them, clear and plain to see.
Maybe I was going mad?
It feels like it.
People might not be bothered to tell me the truth, but I didn't need them to.
I need Chris, but I know it's impossible for him to appear.
He had slipped and skidded too far.

"Pj, do you want some tea?"
I shake my head, which feels unusually light.
Dan sighs, and sits down next to me on the sofa.
Then he takes my hand, squeezing it apprehensively.
I stare at our entwined hands for long moments, before I squeeze his hand back.
I lean against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around me.
It's strangely comforting, but there's an almost forbidden atmosphere, like this wasn't allowed.
Then I look up at him, and our lips connect softly.
We jerk back suddenly, surprised, but then we press our lips together once more, and I'm wrapping my arms around him, tongue slipping in.
What the fuck was I doing?
I was snogging my best friend, and I didn't even know why.
But I felt like I needed it almost.
So we keep kissing, kisses getting more ferocious.
I nip his bottom lip between my teeth, him letting out a moan that I could barely hear, hands in his hair, pressing myself closer to him, both of us gasping for breath.
I start to kiss his neck, desperate for more than I could have.
"What are we doing, Pj?" Dan whispers.
"I don't know," I stare at him, almost disbelieving.
I stand up slowly, legs carrying me to Phil's room, shaking with adrenaline, blood pumping, heart beating in my ears.
I slam the door shut, collapsing on the bed, and start crying again.
I needed Chris so bad
But he was gone.

~Dan~

The bottle comes up to my lips, again and again, strong whiskey poured down my throat.
Pj hadn't left his room since we had- since it had happened, which was well over two hours ago.
"Do you want some?" I call out as I hear him tiptoe down the hall, holding up the bottle.
He hesitates, unsure, before replying.
"Oh, what the fuck,"
He sits next to me on the floor in front of the sofa, taking to bottle, letting it trickle down his throat.
I take the bottle back, swigging some more, burning alcohol being used as a sedative.
He drains the last of it, and I get up to bring over some more.
I return with a large, clear bottle of rum, and a pack cigarettes.
I sit back down, taking out one and lighting it.
I offer one to Pj, and he takes it gladly.
I breathe in deeply, inhaling the fumes, letting go of the smoke.
He opens the bottle, lid clicking, and swallows some.
"I brought this on myself. I never should have asked Chris to marry me,"
"Well, you didn't tell your best mate that you were absolutely obsessed with him,"
"Both of us messed up,"
"What we both need is a rebound, to find someone just for a one night stand,"
"You're drunk,"
"Very," I admit.
He examines me for a moment, before sidling closer to me, his gorgeous green eyes boring into mine.
"Well, I'm very drunk as well,"
He reaches up to my ear, and I can smell the smoke and booze on his breath.
"Pj," I start, shaking my head, but he doesn't let me finish.
"Come on," he whispers, "What do we have to lose? We've both been rejected. We can't reject the rejectees,"
I regarded him, almost warily. He was biting his lip, eyes shining, a tempting smile on his face.
Holy fuck he was attractive.
"It'll be fun" he murmurs, and just the sound of his voice is turning me on.
I reach forward, and lock my lips with his, holding onto him.
He responds eagerly, wrapping his arms around my waist, tongue tracing my bottom lip.
I part my lips slightly, allowing him access.
He slips his tongue in, battling for dominance, my fingers grasping thick curls.
He pushes me onto my back, before whispering in my ear
"Sofa, or room?"
"You choose," I breathe, a smile playing on my lips, not caring about anything anymore.
He grins at me, winking, before pulling me up and leading me to my room, growling as he pushed me onto my bed.
I was slightly hesitant to start kissing him again, sobering up from our frantic kisses.
Did I really want to do this?
More importantly, did I really want to stop?
"Dan, what is it?" Pj whispers in my ear.
"I-I've never done this with a guy. You have. Multiple times. I'm just a little nervous,"
"Don't worry, I know what to do. Ch- he taught me a lot," he replies, voice cracking a little at the end, eyes dimming slightly.
"Pj, are you sure you want to do this? I mean-"
He starts to kiss me again, more ferocious than he was before, and I just didn't care anymore.
His hands find their way up my shirt, me gasping at his cold touch, but moaning quietly as they circle my nipples.
He grinds his hips against mine through our jeans, both of us hardening, and I let out a little choked sound, breathing becoming shallower and faster, thoughts less rational, his grinding becoming harder with each thrust.
He pulls my shirt off, chucking it across the room before taking his own off and bending down to kiss my jaw, my neck, chest, stomach, before reaching the waistband of my jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them off, pants included.
"You ready?" he purrs, lips turning up at the edges, bottom lip nipped between his teeth.
I nod, and he dips his head down, licking from the base to the head, immediate pleasure rushing through me. He looks up at me and starts to work.
Pre-cum dribbles from his lips, still teasing me, sucking slowly on the head, tongue brushing over the slit, expletives I didn't think I knew escaping my throat as he takes me completely into his mouth, his throat.
A distorted moan of his name fills the room, and loud groans escape as he starts humming, and I can't hold on any longer, and he reemerges, white dripping from his lips, smirking knowingly at my urgent face. He holds two fingers in front of my lips.
"Suck," he orders softly.
I envelope them, sucking until he took them out, reaching down to kiss me, the salty taste of myself on his tongue, as desperate as ever, passionate but soft, as he reached down and slowly stroked around my entrance, taking his jeans off with the other hand.
I gasp, closing my eyes and letting the pleasure run through me as he slowly pushes a finger in.
"You like that, don't you? Just like that," he smirks, speaking softly into my ear, gentle words with an almost harsh subtext beneath them.
He inserts another digit, and another, pushing them further in and out, twisting his wrist as he did so, me biting the inside of my cheek to stop from screaming out.
"Pj, please- holy shit," I try to talk, but the words catch in my throat.
"Hmm?" he asks, pretending to concentrate on his fingers.
I'm about to reply, but then I'm cut off by my own moans as he pushes a fist in, twisting almost his entire arm both ways, while he bites my bottom lip, blinding me with sexual arousal and pleasure.
"Fuck me?" manages to escape from my lips, high and desperate.
He smirks once more, before kissing me again, but this time it's soft, sweet.
The fist slips out all apart from two fingers, before he positions himself on top of me, pushing the head into the tight gap, ignoring my surprised gasp at the sudden pain.
He knew it would get replaced by amazing feelings.
He slides in the whole way, until our hips are brushing, an uncomfortable whimper forming in my mouth.
"Don't worry, it gets better," he whispers in my ear, before starting to kiss my jaw, as he slid himself almost all the way back out again and pushing back in as deep as he could, repeating the movement until he established a rhythm, bites and sucks marking my jaw.
With each thrust, he sped up just that bit more, almost pained sounds being forced from him, breathing becoming a thing we used to be able to do.
Ragged moans rip from both of our chests, thrusts becoming impossibly fast and deep as I hook my legs over his hips, and he rewards me by reaching between my legs and stroking softly, a brilliant contrast to the impossibly deep thrusts, more moans erupting as I angle my hips more and push against him, arms around him to get him as deep as possible.
Then everything speeds up, everything is more rough, and with one final cry I explode, splattering his chest and stomach.
My eruption encouraged him to release, emptying himself inside of me with a ragged moan, the orgasm still ripping through my body as we both collapse side by side, facing each other.
He reaches forward to kiss me once more, a sweet, innocent kiss, completely the opposite to what we had just done, like small children having their first kiss.
Although this had a bitter kind of beauty to it, a fake love throughout it.
We didn't love each other.
We were just being used as toys, both of us just needed something.
And I wish it wasn't Pj beside me.
I wished that it was really Phil, the person I truly loved.
And I regretted it all. Regretted using my best friend, regretted sleeping with him, regretted telling Phil anything, regretted everything.
And from the look in Pj's eyes, he was regretting it just as much as me.
He stood up, collecting his clothes and pulling his jeans on, before looking out into the hall, not facing me.
"Goodnight, Dan," he almost whispered, barely audible.
I face away from the door, not replying, tears falling down my cheeks and onto my pillow, as Pj makes his way to Phil's room and I lie awake, screaming at myself inside for ever letting this fucking happen.
"I'm sorry, Dan, I don't love you. I'm so sorry," he whispered as he stood up, tears running from his eyes down his face, the face I loved.
"I wish I could love you, but I don't," he cries, before opening the door and shutting it behind him, leaving me alone, broken.
Why did I have to do this to both of us?
Why do I have to be such a vindictive, greedy bastard?
Why couldn't Phil love me back.

~Pj~

I climb the rolling hills, the tallest peaks, surrounded by trees, tireless legs carrying me.
I was in a place that many would call a paradise, but to me it was just a fake hell, just like the rest of the world. Eventually, I arrive in a small, shaded clearing, a glowing figure in the middle, an almost spotlight trained on them.
"Pj?"
Everything was silent. The chattering birds, the trickling water, the sounds of the earth spinning. All was quiet.
"Pj?" He called again, the voice of an angel.
"Chris," I breathe. He was here.
He turns around, face a distant beauty, bright, dead eyes staring through me.
He steps forward to me, closing his vast eyes and kissing me.
It's soft and sweet, our lips melded into one another, the most beautiful kiss I had ever had.
"I love you, Pj,"

I wake up, choking on broken dreams and trapped air.
Air is coming in quickly, but nothing seems to escape my lungs.
I lie back down, shaking from a restless dream, tears pouring over.
I suck in the cold air gratefully, my heart beats too hard, too fast, and coughs and chokes reverberate through me too quickly.
But I gain enough air, I stop choking for just one moment.

"I love you too, Chris,"