CHAPTER TEN

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Is this normal? Dan thought to himself. The obvious answer was no. He couldn't think of a single person who'd been in a situation even close to this one, and the only explanation for that was that this wasn't normal. But then, how could Phil so easily act as if it was?

Most people didn't fall in love with their best friends, and when they did, they didn't tell them like some masochistic fool. And even if they did tell them, their friends didn't proceed to act as if the entire thing was no big deal! Right?

This was what Dan was telling himself in an attempt to distract himself from his obvious problem. It was only that Phil was still very much asleep, and Dan was very, very awake. The sun was filtering softly through the curtains of his room, and his sheets were soft and silky against his skin. More attention-vying than either of these things, however, was the very obvious problem he had... erm... downstairs.

Obviously, this was the worst possible thing that could have happen to him. Somehow, for some reason, Phil wasn't utterly disgusted or uncomfortable around Dan despite his being in love with him. Still, Dan had a small feeling that this situation wasn't something he'd be able to overlook. This really would weird him out, and it was in Dan's best interest to get as far away from his as possible.

It was horrible timing, as well. Dan had definitely woken up hard before, but he'd always ignored it, and in the back of his mind he'd always hoped that he'd never wake up that way when he was sharing a bed with Phil. Obviously, the universe and his very own body hated him, and Dan was left lying there very still and very silent.

It wasn't helping at all that neither of them had managed to stay properly on their own sides of the bed. This might've been due to the fact that before they'd even fallen asleep they'd been wrapped up in each other's arms (thanks to Phil) and had probably spent a much longer amount of the night tossing and turning overtop of one another. Now, Dan was laying flat on his back while Phil was curling in towards him, one of his legs thrown over Dan's and his hand resting on his lower stomach.

Mainly, it was the hand that was causing Dan the most trouble. Just remembering that it was there, which pretty much meant with every single breath, left him red-faced and anxious. Phil's hand was so close to his arousal. He swallowed thickly, trying to force the image of Phil touching him out of his mind. It was inappropriate and did absolutely nothing to aid Dan in making his erection go down.

As he laid there, Phil made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, before letting out a long sigh and bending his head closer to Dan. As he did so, his hand managed to slip another few inches down, and Dan felt his eyes widen considerably. He held his breath in lieu of obtaining oxygen, worried that the up and down motion of his stomach with every breath would accidentally dislodge Phil's hand and send it cascading towards his cock, and he couldn't have that. Not only because it'd be wildly inappropriate, but also because the mere thought of Phil touching him had him so close to coming that even Phil's knuckle brushing against him would probably be enough to send him over the edge.

"Are you awake?" Phil whispered suddenly. Dan's eyes were closed, and he didn't know why he did it, but he didn't respond. He didn't want to have to interact with Phil just yet, to send him scooting over to the other side of the bed. Though that was probably what he should want, seeing as he still ran the risk of Phil finding out he had a raging hard-on. Still, if Dan was asleep when he had it, then it wasn't really his fault, was it?

Dan continued to breath easily, bracing himself for the inevitable moment when Phil rolled away from him, but it didn't come. Instead Phil rested his cheek back against the bed with a tiny sigh, and he scooted even closer, until his forehead was pressed against Dan's arm and his fingers were clutching the thin material of Dan's t-shirt.

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