FicWad

Ice-Cream




A creak of springs, a smash of a controller colliding with a wall, an audible huff of dissatisfaction.

A very, very grumpy-looking flatmate.

"I let you win, okay?" He mutters, voice on fire just like the dark hues of his somewhat ominous pupils. "Stop smiling like that, Phil. It's unnerving."

Despite his orders, my smug little smirk refuses to budge; the annoyance he's getting from it more of a fuel for it than the initial cause. He really shouldn't get so wound-up so easily, I mean, all I did was completely thrash him at Call of Duty. Repeatedly.

Okay, so maybe I should have let him win at least one of our twenty-three matches; that would have been the good, friendly thing to do after all. Normally, I would let him win but, well, there's a lot at stake.

Namely the last scoop of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough in the freezer. Dan's favourite.

But it's ridiculously hot for England in the Autumn, so the ice-cream really is worth fighting for; is worth kicking Dan's sorry, if admittedly cute, ass for.

"Sore loser." I call airily over my shoulder as I swan into the kitchen to claim my prize.

So many good memories have taken place here, mostly thanks to the awesomeness that is Delia Smith and her holy pancakes. Sure, we might not be a couple of regular Jamie Olivers, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun cooking.

I can remember once, in one of our not-so-frequent serious moments, Dan told me he loves cooking. Loves it because he gets to make something good out of a collection of dull, boring ingredients; he then went on to explain, in a somewhat shy little voice, that baking in itself gives him hope. Hope that he, a drop-out, can make something of himself. It was that moment that I realised Dan trusts me, like really and properly. Like a best friend should.

It was also then that I realised something else, something that probably shouldn't, but did and still does, surprise me; I, Phillip Lester, am completely head-over-heels for Daniel Howell.

Hell, even the fans saw this coming before I did.

Before I can dwell on it, dwell on Dan with his perfect lips and adorably posh voice and his quiet self-consciousness and his soft-sharp eyes and.

Before I can dwell on Dan, just Dan, I open the freezer, grab the tub of Cookie Dough and stalk back into the living room, picking up a spoon on the way.

My flatmate is sat with his knees to his bony ribs, lips set in a grim frown and immaculate irises full of a dull bitterness. But a sweet kind of bitterness, kind of like dark chocolate. I've always preferred dark chocolate to the alternatives; perfectly bittersweet.

"Aw, c'mon, Danosaur!" I grin as I flop down next to him, finding his strop to be unbelievably cute even though it shouldn't be. "You lost, take it like a man."

After hearing a quiet rumble of a nonsensical humph, I tuck into my ice-cream, relishing the sacred coolness of it as it trickles down my throat like liquid-gold. My precious prize is gone in less than three bites, my original tactic of savouring my rare victory forgotten in favour of cooling myself down, ASAP.

I lean back, chucking the empty tub on the floor like an unwanted plaything and run a hand lazily through my hair. That's when I notice; Dan, loud and bubbly and perfect Dan, hasn't said a word in the past seven-and-half minutes since I started consuming the blessed substance.

Dan's a bad loser, who truly isn't in all honesty, but he never grumps it out for longer than two minutes, two minutes ten seconds at a push. Not with me, anyway. Not ever with me. So, with a mildly sickening sense of worry brewing in my chest, I turn to look at him, to check on my younger friend. My best friend.

To see his knees hidden even further into himself, his head resting atop them and his back shuddering slightly. Shit.

I think he, my Dan, might be crying.

Dan never cries.

"Dan?" I dare, leaning forward and shuffling to get closer to him. Yep; he's definitely crying, poor thing. "What's up, Danosaur?"

The nickname seems to make him flinch, then cry even more. Great; well done, Phillip.

"Hey, hey, hey! Please don't cry, Dan, please." I know I sound desperate, but I don't care. Largely because seeing him cry like this is making me desperate. "Is it because of the ice-cream? Because if it is I'll buy s-"

"It's not about the ice-cream, you absolute idiot!" He all but yells, looking up to reveal an abundance of snot and salt-water coating his face. He might look a little ridiculous, maybe even a lot, but the sight still breaks my heart. "I just... I guess it was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak."

Without thinking, though I doubt that would have done much by the way of prevention, I swing an arm around his shoulders; an open invitation for him to rest his weight on me, both metaphorically and literally. He takes it and burrows into my side, hair tickling my chin and hands fisting the fabric of my top as though me disappearing is currently his biggest fear.

Whatever's up with him is serious, at least it is to him, and so I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Even if it takes me all night. Even if I wasn't in love with him I'd do it; I'm his best friend, after all.

"It's alright, Dan. Whatever it is, it's alright." I whisper softly, trying to mimic the way my mum used to comfort me after a rough day at school.

Dan shakes his head, looking at me through semi-scared eyes. The action makes my chest swell in pain for the man-boy in my arms, a boy who should be my boy and no-one else's.

"Why isn't it alright, Dan?" Another, petrified almost this time, shake of the head. "C'mon, Buddy, tell me what's wrong. Please, I just want to be able to help you; you're my bestest friend in the whole wide world. I don't like it when you cry."

He reluctantly looks up, eyes wide and heartbreakingly unsure as they meet my own, which are gazing intently at Dan, letting him know I care. I don't see how he can doubt it, but he clearly does if he's let this build up without even letting me know something was wrong.

Or maybe I just never noticed.

"I read a Phan. You know, the stuff kids write about us on the internet because they think we're or they want us to be... Well, you know." I nod, refusing to be so cruel as to let him babble on like a frightened school kid in detention. "Well, I read one and. And I. I, um, I liked it. The whole 'Phan' thing." He burns a startling shade of red, as do I, before shrugging off my arm and hiding his face in his hands. "I liked it and I love you and now I'm confused and it hurts to be around you and, Phil. I'm sorry I love you and I'll move out, but it's true, Phil." He pauses for breath, panting as my own intakes of oxygen become ragged and short. Like when you're about to reach the top of a rollercoaster. "I love you, Phil. I love you and I'm so, so sorry, but I never meant to fall in love with you. It's not my fault, honest." A sob leaks out of his damp lips, eyes clamping shut as though afraid of my image. "I'll move out. I'm sorry."

All my thoughts start rugby-tackling with each other, battling in my mind to be heard through the static of confusion that Dan's words have thrust upon my chaotic mind. There is one thought, however, that I can hear above all the others. One thought that's making me beam like a madman despite the fact that my best friend, the love of my life, is sobbing his precious little heart out.

Danisnotonfire loves me. That really does make me feel amazing.

There's only one thing I can really think of to do so, obeying my scrambled head, my cautious hand gently cups his tear-dampened cheek. I tilt his head up so that he has no choice but to look into my eyes, and, carefully, I pull him towards me.

The way his eyes light up in adulated realisation makes everything that's wrong with the world feel right, because nothing can be wrong in a world where Dan Howell wants me to kiss him.

Because that's what I'm going to do.

"Hey, Dan." I smirk, my breath bouncing off of his lips. "Want to taste some ice-cream?"








A/N: So, this is my first ever Phan, which explains it's shitty-ness. Also, this is written on a BlackBerry, so I apologize for any typos. Anyways, this is part 'I' in my Alphabet Challenge, the prompt 'Ice-Cream' given to me by my best friend who got me into Phan in the first place and will never be reading this for obvious reasons.

Thank you very much for reading, please let me know what you think! :D

Also, sorry for spamming the MCR page, but there's nowhere else to put this and most of the people who read my stuff hang out on this page, so it kinda made sense to post it here. Sorry. :)

NEW A/N: To the person who rated this 'boring' could you please tell me why/how to improve? Because I was nervous about posting this and would like to make it better. :)