Work Text:
Dan feels yet another bump against his arm, and he grits his teeth. The twinge down his nerves is so fucking distracting when he's trying to fall asleep, not to mention that it hurts like a bitch. He pulls his arm closer to his chest as best as he can when it's encased in plaster.
"Phil," he says, trying his best not to sound as annoyed as he feels. Phil is always so grumpy in the early hours of the morning, liable to take offense to Dan's sharp words. "I need you to stay over there."
The little grunt he gets in response is a good indicator that Phil is still mostly asleep. Dan sighs and shuffles closer to the edge of the bed, just trying to put some distance between them. He can't lay comfortably on either of his sides with the stupid cast in the way. Maybe he should have had the presence of mind to swap sides for the night, but he hadn't.
Now, he's been woken up a dozen or so times by Phil's tossing and turning, and he's considering building a barrier of pillows between them.
Dan closes his eyes and carefully lets his arm fall back into a position that won't bother him. He starts drifting back to sleep, ignoring the weak rays of sunlight that are starting to peek through their blinds.
A knock against his elbow jolts Dan back into consciousness as the pain shoots down his arm, and he's seriously had enough.
"Phil, wake the fuck up," he hisses, elbowing Phil right back and immediately regretting it when that, also, causes him pain. He doesn't even care if Phil is grumpy with him. Dan is fucking grumpy, too. "Seriously, fuck off, or you're sleeping on the couch until this is off."
"Why?" Phil grumbles into his pillow. His eyes are closed and his brow is furrowed, like Dan is nothing but an annoying noise to him right now.
"You're hurting my arm," says Dan. He realises he can kick at Phil without hurting himself.
When his foot connects with Phil's shin, Phil frowns deeper and squints an eye open. "Ow, what was that for?"
Dan scowls. "I am going to physically murder you."
"No, you won't," Phil yawns, rolling onto his back and rubbing at his eyes. At least he's trying to wake up instead of going right back to sleep, Dan will give him that. "Life insurance isn't in your name."
"Martyn will give me all of it if I tell him why I killed you," Dan says with certainty. "I have a fucking fracture, you dickhead, and you keep knocking into it."
That makes Phil frown again, but it's a concerned one. "Oh, Dan, I'm sorry. Want to switch sides?"
"No," Dan sulks, "I want you to go away."
Phil's lips twitch. "You can't banish me, this is my bed too."
"I'm injured," Dan says on a long whine, gesticulating with his cast and wincing. "And you're making it worse! So you get to go sleep in the guest room, that's the way it works."
"Is it?" Phil yawns, stretches out.
He's careful not to knock into Dan, but Dan is too cranky with sleep deprivation and throbbing pain to give him any credit.
"Yes," Dan insists.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," says Phil. "Why don't you just sleep over here, I'll sleep over there. No danger of bumping into your delicate bones."
"I will shove you out of this bed," Dan threatens, sincere.
"You've only got one hand. Think I'll win this scrap."
"You wanna try me, bitch?"
Phil laughs. It's low and a little rough with sleep, just like the rest of him. He looks and sounds unfairly good right now, but Dan couldn’t fucking do anything about it even if he wasn't irritated.
"Not really. I kind of just want to sleep."
Dan kicks him again, harder this time. "You want to sleep? Oh, fucking, you want to sleep?"
"I do want to sleep," Phil says dryly. "Which is kind of hard with you kicking and shrieking."
"Go sleep in the guest room," Dan says again, glaring daggers at Phil. He's sure Phil can't see his expression from here without the aid of his glasses, but it's the thought that counts.
With a loud, frustrated sort of sigh, Phil sits up and swings his long legs out of bed. "Fine," he says, feeling around for his glasses on the nightstand. "Get some rest, Dan, I'll come wake you up whenever I make breakfast."
That's not fair. Phil doesn't get to be grumpy and lovely at the same time. When Dan is grumpy, all he wants to do is bitch out whoever's closest to him - usually Phil, who bears it with the kind of long-suffering fondness that comes with so much time together - but Phil, of course, is still kind.
Dan huffs a little sigh and scooches over to Phil's side of the bed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
"No, come back," Dan whines, making a grabbing motion with his good hand. "I'll swap you sides, I don't actually want you to leave."
"You are so annoying," Phil says, but he doesn't sound angry. He drops a kiss to Dan's forehead and carefully crawls over him to collapse onto Dan's pillow.
It feels a bit weird to literally be on the wrong side of the bed, but Dan reaches out his left arm to pull Phil into a sort of cuddle, making sure that there's no way either of them can knock into his cast.
"Better?" Phil hums against his chest. He sounds like he's already falling back to sleep.
"Better," Dan agrees. He closes his eyes and lets his fingers run through Phil's short, soft hair until the steady motion lulls them both under.
