phan one shots

cherry chapstick

Summary: Phil is in love with a boy who tastes like cherry chapstick

TRIGGER WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, self harm

Maybe it was the softness of his skin.

Maybe he loved how smooth and warm it felt under his fingers, the prominent edge of his collarbones against his light complexion, sloping shoulders bending into long arms wrapped around his torso, pastel sweaters and fuzzy sleeves, made of baby blue and yellow and pink lace.

Maybe it was the curls around his ears.

Crescent shaped light brown curls, a crown of white flowers resting on top of his head, the way they felt in his hands, how they grew wild and frizzy and darkened and dampened. How they clung to his skin as he rolled his head back, and the nape of his neck as the sun painted him in golden shadows the same color as the melodies in his voice.

Maybe it was his gentle touch.

Warm, warm skin, soft hands, touching everything with a tender stroke, sliding into his, clinging onto the fabric of his shirt and folding over his waist, sleeves falling over his curling fingers, tracing the bridge of his nose and his throat, and brushing over his cheekbones and his forehead, combing through his ebony locks painting him in gentle colors, like the watercolor painting of the sky at sunset.

Maybe it was his chocolate eyes.

Sweet, deep eyes, decorated with hues of gold and burgundy, glowing and dimming and shimmering, filled with excitement, crinkling at the edges, brimming with tears the taste of stars, crystals clinging to the frame of his dark lashes, swirling pools of safe dreams and his open heart reflected in their depths. Home, and comfort, and his quiet humming, eyelids lightly brushed with eye shadow, fluttering slowly, an entire universe behind them.

Maybe it was his breath taking smile.

A slow stretch, rosy cheeks pulling up, dimple denting the side, shoulders lifting, skin glowing, visibly brightening, yellow daisies blooming behind his pupils, and peach colored hues vibrating in the air, as it filled with the sweetness of strawberries and the white of cotton angel wings, gold shadows against fluffy clouds, and every pretty thing, a smile he wanted to tuck into his heart and never let go of.

Or maybe it was his lips.

Maybe it was because as he hovered over him, warm bodies flush against each other, and hearts pounding against their chests, and he fitted their mouths together, he could feel his supple lips moving against his in sync, the softest lips he'd ever kissed, hot and smooth, and leaving him breathless, slightly bitten from nerves, like the tips of his fingers, the sweetest flavor, lips he could kiss forever, and still want more.

Maybe it was because as their hands roamed over stomachs, and hips, and arms, and legs, pastel pink skirt hemmed with lace bunching up, and toes curling as their tongues danced lazily, sliding over teeth and exploring mouths, he could hear the soft moans and feel the heated breath that escaped them, hums resonating in their bones and waves of intoxicating scents invading their senses and making them light headed.

Maybe it was because the prettiest noises fell from them as they turned red and swollen, head tilting back, eyes hooded, pupils dilated, as he kissed underneath his ear and down his neck, biting softly, and sucking, leaving red and purple splotches over his canvas of glowing, sun kissed skies.

Maybe it was because, as he pulled his sweater over his head and slid his skirt over his legs, leaving his thighs completely exposed, he covered his eyes and they formed an adorable pout.

Maybe it was because as he pressed kisses over them and across his stomach, whispering "beautiful", against his skin, they began to turn up in a smile, tears falling over his cheeks and curling around his jaw, pure love shining in his expression.

Maybe it was because when he connected their mouths again, bare legs tangled together, fingers leaving bursts of heat, and tangled in hair, his lips tasted like cherry chapstick.

But when he woke up before him the next morning, early enough to see the pale morning light cast their bodies in a soft gold, and found himself studying his peaceful features, those same cherry stained lips still painted with a gentle, sleepy smile, he knew there were countless reasons to fall for Dan Howell.

And maybe it wasn't his skin, or his hair, or his hands, or his smile, or lips that tasted like cherry chapstick.

Maybe...

Maybe it was everything.

And Phil decided that...

He'd give anything to love Dan's everything.

A/N: Another little short story for you lovely readers. Definitely not my best work so I apologize. I have a long one coming up soon so if it takes me a few days to update it's cause I'm working on that. Although it might not be as long as I'm thinking so don't expect a chapter book. Please tell me if it was good or bad or if it needs improvement. Please comment telling me your thoughts and feelings, and thank you sooooooo much for reading. I love you all, sooooo much, I really do. You're beautiful and you're even more beautiful when you're healthy and taking care of yourselves. I'm psychic, I'll know if you're hurting your precious beautiful minds, bodies, and souls. You're angels and you deserve kindness, happiness, and health. Treat yourselves because you're special and you're worth it. Don't be afraid to ask for help and be unapologetically yourselves. I support you, I accept you, I love you, and I believe in you. Eat and stay hydrated! Love you!