Clueless Phanfics

Teach Me How to Kiss (ao3) - Dan is a typical notorious bad boy smoker who couldn’t give a shit about anything. Phil is a quiet librarian nerd who spends too much of his time in an abandoned tower in school. After rumours were spread that Dan had slept with many girls, and his two friends finding about it, Dan’s dirty little secret is exposed. Dan has no idea how to kiss.And what does he do? He gets kissing lessons from Phil.

Summary: Cas is still getting used to being human, and doesn’t understand how to “properly sleep”. He keeps seeing bad things and Dean gets concerned. He tries to help in anyway he can, and turns to Mary’s old techniques for help. Cue protective hand holding and Dean singing.

Word Count: 4,476

Genre: Fluff/Comfort

Warnings: nightmares/night terrors, descriptions of violence, taunting

A/N: I got this idea while listening to Jensen singing on Jason Manns’ album Covers With Friends, (amazing album you should check it out) and I decided to write this instead of doing my homework. So I hope you like it considering it’ll be the cause of me failing all my classes. Enjoy!!

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Castiel had gotten used to being human. Mostly. He’s used to eating, and peeing, and swearing under his breath (or very loudly) when he accidentally smashes his hip into the side of the counter that he’s convinced moves out into the walkway more and more each day. But the one thing he can’t get used to, is sleep. Sleep to him is an illusion, so contradictory to what people describe it as. A relief, a reprieve from the worlds troubles. A time to recharge. Peace. But Cas doesn’t see it. He watches Sam and Dean fall asleep on the couch and not wake up until the next morning, unmoving and gently breathing. Their worried expressions fading away briefly before they awaken and the constant furrow of their brows returns. Cas had looked up articles, researched techniques on how the hell to sleep, and he’s tried everything from warm milk to progressive muscle relaxation, which he just found weird frankly, and the warm milk did not sit in his stomach well. He was about to give up on trying honestly, he was at the point where his technique was to just stare at the ceiling until his body decided to work correctly and fall asleep. But even when he manages to drift under, he can never achieve that bliss of nothingness like the humans describe in such a positive light. Because he’ll close his eyes and he’ll see them. See his brothers and sisters and all the humans he’s ever slaughtered, or who died because of him, whether it was for the greater good, or to protect himself or Sam and Dean, or from his time as “God”. It was strange, and he didn’t know what it was. Sam never told him about this part of sleeping, just told him about the black, the nothing, the peace. Didn’t tell him about the scenes replaying in his mind, terrifying him and making him jolt awake, soaked in sweat and breathing heavy. He was so confused. He thought maybe some part of his grace was still there, but the bad part. The part that was screaming at him through the voice of a sister over and over, “you’ve fallen in every way imagineable castiel, you’re gone, look what you’ve done”. The part that was punishing him for not fulfilling his role, not playing by the rules. One day he grabbed Sam’s laptop and googled “pictures while you sleep”. Everything that popped up talked about “dreams”. Castiel knew what dreams were, Sam and Dean talked about them like they were everything they’ve ever wanted, and everything they’ll never achieve. But they were positive, happy. He knew Sam’s dream was to go to college, marry Jess. Dean’s was to have a family again. And yes, granted these didn’t happen, but they were happy. They were things that Cas would be quite content to see in his sleep, the Winchesters happy. It’s been much too long. After more looking, Cas determined that what he saw was definitely not a dream. So he tweaked his search. “Bad pictures while you sleep”. A link popped up talking about something called a “nightmare”. He clicked it and read the definition. “A frightening or unpleasant dream, a terrifying or very unpleasant experience or prospect.” Well, that seems about accurate. Cas searches for ways to get rid of them but can’t find anything that he hasn’t already tried to simply fall asleep. He glances at the clock in the corner of the screen. 12:37. He should really try and sleep again, as much as he doesn’t want to. He walks down the hall and slips into bed. After many hours, he drifts off, hoping and praying he can get through the night without waking up with his blood laced with fear.

To no avail. He feels a presence beside him. He hears the faint call of his name but he can’t talk back. “Cas! Cas! Wake up Cas cmon” It’s Dean. Cas tries to wake up, he tries to respond, but he can’t. He’s stuck. The people have his arms and are pulling him back into the dark, into his nightmare. He feels his breathing speed up and he can hear Dean calling his name more frantically and shaking him. Cas wants so desperately to tell Dean what’s wrong, why he can’t wake up, but he’s trapped, being beaten down by everyone, screaming at him, about how he’s a failure. Then suddenly, he’s awake. He jolts up, breathing erratic and hands shaking. He sees Dean sitting there with concern flashing alarmingly in his eyes, the permanent furrow in his brow even more pronounced. He glances down and sees Dean’s hand on his cheek, as if trying to protect him from the horrors behind Cas’s eyes. When Dean sees Cas looking though, he quickly removes it. “Cas man, are you okay? What the hell happened??” Cas takes a deep breath in. “It seems I’ve once again failed to sleep properly.” Dean looks confused, so Cas tries to explain. “I researched earlier, ‘pictures while you sleep’ and found dreams, but the description of dreams were too pleasant, so I then searched, 'bad pictures while you sleep’. I found out that what I’m having every night is a nightmare.” Dean eyebrows shoot up. “This is happening every night?? Why didn’t you tell one of us?” Cas shrugged. “I assumed I just wasn’t doing it correctly. While I’m mostly adjusted to human conditions, sleep has always puzzled me.” Dean just stared at him for a few moments. “I’m sorry man, I should’ve realized. Did you look up ways to get rid of them?” Cas nodded. “Nothing I haven’t tried before.” Dean’s face changed, almost like he was contemplating something, then said, “you know, when I was little and I had nightmares, my mom would lay in bed with me until I fell asleep, and after a while I didn’t have them anymore. Well, you know before, that, but anyway. I’m not saying I would sleep in the bed with you, but I could drag in the couch and just be in the room? It might help, and I could at least be in here to wake you up and pull you out of them so you don’t have to go through it on your own. I know I did that for Sammy a lot growing up.” Dean gave a hesitant smile. Cas smiled weakly in return, “are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry about me Cas, I’m fine. Let’s worry about you yeah?” Cas nodded slightly. “Good” Dean said, as he patted Cas on the shoulder and walked out of the room. By nightfall, Dean had dragged the couch from the living room into Cas’s room. He tossed a couple pillows from his own room onto the couch and spread a blanket over it. Cas looks hesitantly at the bed, praying that this works. The nightmares are really starting to get to him. Dean walks in to see Cas staring pensively at the mattress and sighs. “If you really don’t wanna do it, we can just have a movie night, no promises I’ll stay awake though.” Cas shook his head. “No, I can’t just not sleep. I need a solution.” With that, Dean nods and flips off the light switch and crawls under the blanket. “Goodnight Cas” he says with a yawn. “Goodnight Dean”

~~~

Castiel opens his eyes and he sees black. He’s not in a room. He’s just surrounded by darkness. Though he himself, is light. He sees someone materialize in the distance. He can’t tell who it is, but they look angry. They come closer and Cas realizes it’s another angel, Hester. “Hello Castiel.” Hester snaps. Cas doesn’t respond. “Do you realize what you’ve done Castiel? Do you realize what all these angels and all these humans have in common?” Cas looks around and sees thousands upon thousands of souls, all dead, because of him. “Hester please, I’m sorry.” “Sorry doesn’t bring people back Castiel! Sorry is what you tell two children to say to each other when they’re arguing and you want them to be quiet! Do you even care, that this is all your fault?” “Of course, of course I care I’m sorry” “Stop apologizing.” Hester interjects. “No amount of apologies are going to save you from thousands of vengeful souls. You have fallen in every way imaginable Castiel. And now, you’re going to pay.” Castiel tries to back away, he tries to run. He tries to move his arms and hit them, push them away from him. But he can’t. He’s frozen in place and thousands of people are approaching him, preparing for their turn at revenge. “Hester please, please I’m sorry.” Hester grins maliciously and steps up to him. He hears a swish sound and looks down to see the angel blade she dropped into her hand from her sleeve. She throws him backwards and he crashes into something solid, but there’s nothing there. It’s still just darkness. She starts by trailing the tip of the blade across his throat, but not applying enough pressure to make a cut. She taps his chest and he’s pinned against, nothing. But he can’t move. Hester rips open his shirt and stabs him through the heart. Cas screams out in pain but he doesn’t die. He can’t die. He never dies he just has to endure torture after torture from EVERY soul he’s damned. Hester starts carving something into his chest. He clenches his teeth in pain and digs his fingernails into his palms, making them bleed. She keeps carving, and Cas keeps screaming. Then she stops, and it’s like a camera pans back and Cas can see himself, bloody and beaten, pinned in a crucifixion stance, with the word “FALLEN” engraved into his flesh. Hester laughs and her hands fly up. Thousands of people come rushing towards him wielding every weapon you can think of and more. They beat him, strangle him, carve out more words into his flesh. And Cas screams. He screams for them to stop and he screams apologies and he screams that he can’t breathe and please please you’re killing me you’re suffocating me please I’m sorry But possibly worse than the torture, is the face of Dean clearer than day, thrusting a blade through his heart, repeating Cas’s words. “I’m sorry….. I’m sorry……”

~~~

“CAS” Cas jerks awake and sits up abruptly, feeling Dean remove his hand from his cheek as he does. His chest is heaving and his lip is bleeding and there are tears rolling down his face. There’s a sheen of sweat on his body and he feels like he’s burning up. He looks at Dean as the tears spill out of his eyes uncontrollably. “Cas I couldn’t wake you up, you, you wouldn’t wake up what happened.” Cas inhaled shakily and looked down at his trembling hands. “Y-You were th-there Dean. You were there I saw you you were hurting me you-” “Whoa Cas slow down. I was hurting you? Start from the beginning tell me what happened.” Cas wrings his hands together as he tells Dean his nightmare. From the darkness, to Hester appearing, to the rejected apologies, to all the souls he hurt, and the torture, and the carving and the way that Dean looked at him as he shoved a blade through his chest. And Dean listened. He listened with sadness overtaking his face and guilt weighing down his body. “Cas, I don’t know what to say, that’s awful.” Cas nods and sniffles, then looks up at Dean through wet lashes. “It’s okay” he whispers. But obviously, he wasn’t okay.

They keep going like this for a few nights, then, one night, Cas says something without thinking. “Maybe it didn’t work because you were too far away.” Cas says in a voice barely above a whisper. “Huh?” Dean asks, not being able to hear him. “I said, maybe it didn’t work because you were too far away. I always feel really alone in the nightmares, so maybe if I wasn’t alone it would help. I guess my subconscious doesn’t pick up on you across the room on the couch.” Cas said with a slight smile. Dena chuckled. “I suppose not.” He responded in a quiet voice. “So, what, you want me to sleep in the bed?” Dean asks. Cas shrugs shyly. “It might help.” He whispers. Dean smiles. “Anything to help you Cas.” The next day Dean drags the couch out of the room. Cas is slightly nervous about sharing a bed with Dean, mainly because what he really wanted to do was cuddle up to him and bury his face in Dean’s chest, not ask him how he’d like to separate the two of them. Dean walks into the room wearing a tshirt and lounge pants, Cas slightly disappointed that he ditched his usual attire of only boxers. But then again, the point of this was for Cas to be able to sleep through the night, and that would be almost impossible if he was sleeping next to a shirtless Dean, who he would much rather make out with than awkwardly share a bed with. “So do you want to put a pillow between us or?” Cas asks hesitantly. Dean rubs the back of his neck, and almost looks like he’s searching for an excuse. “Nah, we don’t have to. The bed isn’t very big and I shift a lot so I’d probably just end up chucking it onto the floor five minutes after I fall asleep.” Dean says sheepishly. Cas nods and swallows. He was kind of relying on that to help resist the urge to roll over and cuddle the hell out of Dean, but he’ll have to deal. Cas climbs into bed and Dean switches off the light, climbing into the opposite side. Dean studies Cas’s face for a moment, then smiles gently and says, “goodnight Cas”, as he rolls over and goes to sleep. After a few minutes, Cas can hear even breathing and gentle snores coming from Dean, and he lets the soft noises lull him to sleep.

~~~

He’s back in the darkness. Hester is standing in front of him and she starts throwing punches. She pins him against the nothingness and carves into his flesh. He feels himself burning up and on the verge of passing out but he never gets that luxury, has to stay conscious and scream through the pain. He gets thrown to the ground and the souls approach him. They’re red hot, furious, spiteful. They wail on him, beat him til their fists are raw and far beyond. But Dean isn’t above Cas, torturing him like he has been. Cas doesn’t even see him until he gets one particularly hard punch to the temple, causing his head to swing to the side and lull there for a few moments before he opens his eyes. And there Dean is. Laying there taking the torture just like Cas is. The only difference, the words carved into him are things like “broken”, “burden”, and “failure”. Dean’s eyes meet his and they whisper to each other, “I’m sorry….I’m sorry…..I’m sorry…..”

~~~

Cas jerks awake, face flush and breathing heavy, tears pooling in his eyes. Dean’s hand is on his face again, but this time he doesn’t move it. He lets it rest there, wiping away a few tears that slip, and rubbing his thumb along Cas’s cheek. His other hand is clasped tightly around Cas’s. The room is dark but Cas can still see the pattern of their fingers laced together, and it helps him calm down. Dean removes his hand from Cas’s cheek and starts to untangle their fingers, but Cas holds on tighter and whispers, “don’t, please, I need to know you’re okay.” Dean looks puzzled, so Cas inhales shakily and tells Dean about the beatings, how he looked over and saw Dean next to him, how he watched people carve into his chest. But he left out what the carvings were. Dean’s self esteem wasn’t great as it is, and Cas didn’t want to risk lowering it. Dean rubs his thumb across the back of Cas’s hand as he recounts his nightmare, and keeps going when he’s finished. It’s almost like he’s scared to let go, like he thinks that he’s the only thing holding fragile little Cas together. And in the moment, Cas kind of agreed.

Apparently, Dean believed it a whole lot more than Cas thought. Now every night Dean would hold Cas’s hand as he fell asleep, and it was actually helping a little. Dean wasn’t getting beaten in the dreams anymore, just standing off to the side looking helpless. And the carvings were getting better. They were still happening, but they weren’t words, just random cuts in the most painful places. But the taunting was still there, instilling in Cas’s mind that he had fallen, maybe even more effective than carving it into his very flesh, was whispering it accusingly in his ear, with a tone so vengeful that it made Cas feel like he had caused all the problems that have ever occurred on earth and in heaven. And if that was their goal, they were sure achieving it.

Dean was stepping up. He no longer just held Cas’s hand anymore, he now wrapped his arm around Cas’s shoulders and pulled him close so he could lay his head on his chest. But he still weaved their fingers together every night, as though their locked fingers were the stitches holding together Cas’s very soul.

~~~

The darkness overwhelms Castiel. It’s eternal, no end in sight. And yet, the souls come from somewhere. The souls who are beating him down with their voices. The souls who taunt and scream at him until he collapses with his hands over his ears and screams back to try and drown out the vicious words. He’s on his knees, pinned to the floor. He can hear Hester’s voice “you’ve fallen Castiel, in every way imaginable, your fault, your fault, your fault” Cas screams back “no no no no no” in a desperate attempt to make them stop. But then a voice reaches out over the others, and the damned souls hush, allowing Cas to listen to the new voice, Dean’s voice. “Cas, please” he says. Cas looks up and sees Dean broken and bloody in front of him, curled up on his side on the verge of death. All Cas needs to do is reach out, touch him, heal him. But he’s stuck. Stuck within these invisible walls of darkness blocking him from doing anything. And all he can say is, “I’m sorry…..I’m sorry…..I’m sorry….”

~~~

This time, Cas does not jolt awake. He slowly awakens, as he feels himself sobbing, to a much calmer voice, shushing him and lulling him, telling him that everything’s okay, that he’s okay. Dean. Safe Dean. Dean who doesn’t need to be saved. Dean who he can touch.

He reaches out a trembling hand, and places his fingertips on Dean’s cheek, Dean smiling as he does. Cas drops his hand and lets out another sob, his chest heaving as he drains himself of tears. Dean continues to stroke his back and calm him, never unlacing their fingers. It’s becoming somewhat of a security blanket to Dean now as well as Cas. Cas looks up at Dean and beckons him to lay down. Dean does, and Cas lifts their melded hands above their heads and takes his other arm and wraps it around Dean, sobbing into his chest and saying he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, as Dean quiets him and tells him that it’s okay, he did nothing wrong, while resuming rubbing Cas’s back. It took awhile before Cas could tell Dean what had happened. He would finally be okay and then he would look up at Dean and see him covered in bruises and cuts, on the verge of death, and desperate for Cas’s help that he couldn’t give. But eventually, Cas spit out the words and Dean buried his face in Cas’s neck and hugged him and told him that he’s okay and he’s going to be okay and don’t worry baby we’re both gonna be okay. The baby just slipped out but neither of them seemed to notice, or care. They just lay there, bodies pressed together, fresh tears brimming in both of their eyes but not wanting to surrender and let them fall. They cling to each other, practically forcing themselves to stay in reality, the reality where they’re both here, safe, tangled up in bed together.

Cas is still a bit shaken by the dream of last night when it was time for them to go to sleep again. He laid next to Dean, hands held together and hearts anxiously beating, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. “Dean?” Cas whispered. “Yeah?” Dean answers. “What exactly did your mother do when you were having nightmares?” Dean furrows his brow. “She did this Cas, what do you mean?” Cas sits up and faces Dean. “No, I want you to do exactly what she did. Down to the sides of the bed you were on and the way she stroked your hair. Do that to me. Please. Yours went away, I need mine to.” Dean shifted slightly, hesitant to respond but then says, “well, she used to have me curl up on her chest, my head in the crook of her neck and my body diagonal across hers. And she would wrap her arm around me and I would hold her thumb because my hand wasn’t big enough to hold hers. And then, she’d um, she’d sing to me.” Dean finishes the sentence quietly. “What did she sing to you?” Cas asks with a soft voice. Dean smiles, remembering the song, “Hey Jude. It was her favorite. It helped me fall asleep, and made the screams stop. They were replaced by her voice, comforting me.” “Dean” Cas whispers “Yes?” “Would you sing to me?” Dean smiles. “Of course Cas.” He leans down and gently presses his lips against Cas’s, and Cas flutters his eyes closed and melts into the kiss. Dean pulls away and smiles, and helps Cas get settled onto his chest. He takes a deep breath, and the room begins to fill with his deep, soothing voice, singing the words,

Hey Jude, don’t make it bad Take a sad song and make it better Remember to let her into your heart Then you can start to make it better

Hey Jude, don’t be afraid You were made to go out and get her The minute you let her under your skin Then you begin to make it better

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool

Dean continues the song, even past when he feels Cas’s breathing even out and knows he’s asleep. He imagines his voice as his mothers, and he smiles. He smiles because she was beautiful, kind, good. And yes, she was taken too early, but she made the world better in her short time.

~~~

The darkness is still here, but Cas isn’t scared. He doesn’t feel, anything. He feels empty, like the nothingness of the space is seeping into him. And it’s quiet, so quiet. No screaming, no taunting, no words. It’s silent, apart from footsteps coming from behind him. He turns, and sees Dean approaching him, face free of bruises and a faint smile on his lips. He reaches Castiel and lays down next to him, both suspended in the darkness and staring up into it. Dean moves his hand from his stomach where it’s laying and entwines his fingers with Cas’s. They both just stare, stare into the place where nothing meets nothing, where all there is is darkness and blank space. And they lay, silent, peaceful. Cas finally found the peace. And neither of them once, utter the words “I’m sorry…”

~~~

Cas slowly opens his eyes, blinking in the sudden brightness of the room. His legs are tangled in the blankets and one hand is still wrapped tightly around Dean’s, the other resting calmly on his chest. He sits up and tries to make sense of what happened. He was there. In the darkness, but he was safe. He wasn’t scared. And Dean was there, and he was okay. And they just held hands and stared at nothing and had nothing to say sorry for. He smiles widely and rests his head in his free hand. He hears a groan come from beside him and sees Dean slowly waking up. Before he could process his thoughts, he disconnects their hands, places both of his on Dean’s cheeks, and smashes their lips together. Dean is startled, but responds quickly. He kisses back, and it’s urgent but gentle. They savor the taste of each other until Dean feels a drop of water land on his cheek and he pulls away. “Cas? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Cas laughs and shakes his head, leaning in for another quick kiss before he wipes the tears away. “No, Dean, you did it. My nightmare, it, it didn’t happen. I was there, in the darkness, but I wasn’t scared. And you were there, but you were safe. And we just held hands and stared and that was it. There was no one else but us, no words, no sounds, no I’m sorry’s” Dean’s concerned face quickly changes into an exuberant one. He sits up and pulls Cas in for another kiss, but it doesn’t work very well considering they both have these stupid grins on their faces that they can’t keep off.

But they kiss anyway. They kiss to make up for all the lost time they spent silently pining for each other, both too scared to make a move. They kiss to drive away the bad memories of the weeks past and to savor this one. They kiss to thank each other for not leaving, not giving up. And they kiss because they want to, because they can, because there’s no invisible barrier separating them and they’re safe and they aren’t scared.

transferring from my blog clueless-kait!! this is my sideblog for phanfics!’

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Summary: Dan and Phil cuddling late at night with the fireplace going and Phil gets philosophical (unintentional pun wow) Genre: fluffy fluff Warnings: mentions of fire idk if that’s a trigger but just in case A/N: okay this is my first fic I’m posting I thought of the idea in the shower and I hope you enjoyyy. The title is from Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year by Fall Out Boy bc I suck at titles and I thought it fit. (also apologies for any mistakes I’m typing this on my phone)

“Dan, I’ve been thinking,” “About what?” Dan asks. “Fire” “Um okay what about fire?” Phil snuggles up closer to Dan and rests his head on his chest. “Just, how much like love it is. It’s so beautiful, but it’s so dangerous. And even though people know it’s dangerous, they can’t help but want to feel it. Think about it, fire is gorgeous, the ones you light to get the aura of warmth and coziness in your home, the flames flickering softly with the occasional popping sounds that scare you, but you love because they’re comforting in a way. The flickering flames are the consistency of relationships, the kisses and snuggles and the way one person will subconsciously throw their arm around the other while they’re asleep. The pops are the quirks and flaws that make the people who they are. The little annoyances that irritate you, but you would never change. Having the tv volume too loud, never putting their dishes in the sink, the things that end in them saying sorry and pouting and you kissing those pouty lips and knowing that they’re yours and that’s all you could ever ask for.” Dan looked at Phil with utmost adoration. Absolutely admiring the way Phil was talking about love and knowing he was the one that made him realize all of this. Phil glanced up at him, and Dan whispered “keep going”. Phil looked back at the crackling fire and continued.

i just wanted to make a small video showing just how much dan and phil accomplished this year; i’m so proud of them :)

so yeah this is what i spent half of my winter break doing instead of homework (not like i would’ve done it anyways lol)

So youtube rewind was a thing… Phil practically sitting in Dan’s lap. It was just begging for fanfic to be written about it…

Summary: In the process of filming for YouTube rewind, Phil is required to sit on Dan’s lap while they re-enact the ‘Charlie Bit My Finger Video’. They feel this is risky for their established but secret relationship but go ahead with it anyhow.  

Genre: smut - blowjob, buttsex

Warning: smut

Word count: 2.24k

Dan’s POV:

The video producers had just been explaining to Phil and I what we had to do. We were re-enacting a moment from the 'Charlie Bit My Finger’ video that went viral back in 2007. I wasn’t quite sure if I’d heard everything right… Phil was looking particularly cute today and I found it rather distracting.

“Wait, so Phil has to sit in my lap?” I asked, unsure if this is what’d been said.

“Yes,” the producer next to the camera man replied, “That’s okay, right? We presumed you two being such good friends…”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off.

In all honesty, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it. Phil and I were trying to keep our relationship a secret to the fans, and even though this wasn’t exactly coming out, I felt as if it were maybe a step too far. Our fans would go crazy over this. It would be all over tumblr, but they would know it was the rewind creators that had put us up to it - that would make it alright, right?

I looked over to Phil to see what he felt about the matter. He seemed fairly oblivious to the situation. I guess it wasn’t much different from when we snuggled up together at home. All we had to do was play it off as being completely platonic.

“Okay, so Dan,” the producer lady interrupted my thoughts, “If you sit down on the chair, that would be good.”

Unsure exactly where to sit - it was a very big chair after all - I sat down and waited for further instructions.

“Right, shuffle back into the corner. Yes, that’s good. Now Phil if you’d like to sit too. Yes, that’s it. Maybe turn around a little so your right shoulder is in front of Dan. Perfect.”

I bit my lip as Phil shuffled around on my lap. Fuck, was I getting hard. Glancing down, I was relieved to see that it wasn’t making my jeans protrude yet. That would hella awkward, with all the producers and cameras.