If you asked Phillip ten years ago if he’d ever date a man, he’d laugh and shake his head.

Now, if you were to ask him, he'd confidently say that he could date whoever he damn well pleased.

Letting out a noticeable yawn, he sat up in the shared bed, running a hand through his hair as he stretched. He stretched before walking over to you, watching as you slipped your shirt on.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. "G'mornin, handsome," he murmured.