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“I don’t know, Dan,” Phil said, lifting his arms and twirling around, then stopping when he stumbled and fell against the dresser. “It’s kind of short, isn’t it?”
“That’s the point,” said Dan, rolling his eyes. His gaze gravitated naturally to the exposed strip of skin around Phil’s waist, but for the moment, his exasperation outweighed his attraction. “It’s a crop top. Well, crop sweater. Cropped sweater?”
“So it’s meant to be too short?” Phil said, tugging the hem of the sweater fruitlessly towards his waistband. He turned back towards, huffing out an annoyed sigh. “What for?”
“What do you mean, what for?” Dan asked, frowning.
“I mean why would someone buy a sweater that’s too short,” Phil said, turning back to the mirror and frowning at his reflection.
“It’s, like, fashion, yeah?” Dan said, struggling for the right words to explain a normal human concept in a way that Phil would understand. “It’s hot.”
“I don’t know, my tummy’s kind of cold,” Phil said, moving his hand to the exposed skin.
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”
“No, go on, what do you mean?” Phil turned back to face him, the beginnings of a cheeky grin on his face as he struck an exaggerated pose, one hand on his hip.
“Oh, shut up,” Dan said, feeling the patchy heat rising on his cheeks. “You know you’re hot, you don’t need me to tell you.” He flopped back onto the bed, groping above his head for the nearest pillow and hurling it vaguely in Phil’s direction. There was a thudding noise, but thankfully not a sound of breaking glass.
“Hey, be careful with that.” Dan felt Phil’s weight settle onto the bed next to him. “You really think this looks hot? On me, I mean.”
Reluctantly, Dan lifted his head to look over at Phil, sitting with his legs crossed and his arm covering his exposed midriff. “Honestly, I think it suits you,” he said.
“It’s a bit young for me,” Phil said, wrinkling his nose.
“Shut up, you’re young,” Dan said, reaching for another pillow.
“Hey, hey, stop that,” Phil said, raising his hands, and Dan abandoned his pillow. “You’re gonna break something.”
“Your mum’s gonna break something,” Dan mumbled, pulling a face.
“Shut up,” Phil said, reaching across to gently shove Dan’s shoulder. “All right, I tried on yours, it’s your turn.”
“What are you gonna make me wear, the yellow T-shirt?” Dan said, screwing up his face into his best impression of a naked mole rat.
“I think you look good in colour,” Phil said, the bed rebounding as he stood up and crossed over to the dresser. “Come on, no one else has to see.”
“You think everything looks good in colour,” Dan said, pushing himself up into a sitting position and squinting suspiciously at Phil. “If it was up to you, our flat would look like some kind of hideous rainbow vomit.”
“No, it would look great,” Phil said, rummaging through one drawer. “I have good taste.”
“Good taste in boyfriends, maybe.”
“Oh, no, I have terrible taste in boyfriends.”
Dan aimed his pillow carefully, and let out a victory cackle when it hit Phil directly in the back of his head.
“Oi, don’t be a dick,” Phil said, turning to frown at him.
“You started it,” Dan said, flipping him off. “Come on, then, what do you want to dress me up in?”
“I don’t think I have anything this outrageous,” Phil said, indicating the sweater with a vague hand motion.
“It’s not outrageous,” Dan scoffed.
“It’s, you know, more gendery than what I usually wear.” Phil returned to his search.
“More gendery?” Dan said, giving the back of his head a look.
“Yeah, it’s like,” Phil gestured vaguely. “You know. I mean, it’s not, but it’s also not, you know.”
“I mean, it’s all just clothes,” Dan said. “They’re all just, you know, bits of fabric to drape over our meat prisons, or whatever. The whole gender thing is just, I mean, it’s totally-”
“I know,” Phil interrupted.
“I mean, it’s like-”
“I know,” Phil said, emphatically. “You’ve told me this, like, a hundred times.”
“Well, I’m right,” Dan huffed.
“Sure, babe,” Phil said. Dan frowned at him as he turned back to his drawers. “I don’t know, it’s not the sort of thing I’d wear in front of other people.”
“I’m other people.”
“No, you’re Dan,” Phil said, matter-of-factly.
“I’m another people.” He frowned. “Person, whatever.”
“Okay, but you’re not people.”
“I-” “You know-”
“Fine, okay, whatever,” Dan said, with a sigh. “I still don’t think it’s outrageous.”
“Maybe not for you,” Phil said, turning around and indicating his stomach. “This is my secret skin. It doesn’t see the sun.”
“It does see the sun,” Dan argued. “Like, on the beach, or whatever.”
“Not in a sweater, it doesn’t.”
“It’s still not secret,” Dan said, even as his eyes were drawn irresistibly to it. “Everyone knows it’s there.” He kept on trying to argue for its own sake, even though he already got Phil’s point.
“Yeah, but it could be, like, anything,” Phil said, peering down at his own stomach. “Like, I could have secret green skin or some kind of belly button disease and no one would know.”
“I’d know,” Dan said, even as he was rolling his eyes.
“You don’t count.”
“I do too count,” Dan said, trying to sound hurt.
“That’s not the point, anyway,” Phil said, moving over to the wardrobe.
“What’s the point, then?”
“It just feels wrong,” he said, shuffling the hangers. “There’s, like, something missing.”
“That’s the point, though.”
“Well, yeah.”
Dan sighed. “Okay, how about this, then?” He got up and squeezed past Phil, extracting a long black hoodie from the wardrobe and holding it up.
Phil gave him a long look, before tugging off the sweater. Dan stared shamelessly, giggling a little at the effect it had on his quiff. He gave Dan another long-suffering look before taking the hoodie and pulling it on.
“Okay, so what’s this about?” Phil asked, indicating the layers of fabric rucked up around the waistband of his trousers.
“Take off your trousers.”
Phil gave him another look.
“No, I’m serious, it looks better,” Dan said, settling back onto the bed. “Get those legs out, Lester.”
Phil sighed, then started unbuttoning his jeans, pulling them off gracelessly but managing not to fall over. His pants were neon green and hideous, and Dan was grateful when Phil tugged the hoodie down to cover them. He was happy enough to see Phil in his pants, but generally he felt that getting rid of them was an improvement.
“What, like this?” Phil said, leaning against the wardrobe for support as he freed his feet from his jeans. His mismatched socks were orange and blue today, coming to slightly different heights on his calves.
“Yeah,” Dan said, admiring his legs. They were shockingly pale against the dark fabric, long and elegant, provided you ignored the socks.
Phil struck a pose, then giggled. “I mean, it’s like, what, a dress?” he said, pushing his hands into the pockets. “A dress that’s a hoodie? Or a hoodie that’s a dress?”
“See, you get it,” Dan said, running his gaze appreciatively over Phil.
“Do you know how to make, like, a regular length jumper?” Phil asked with a grin. “Or did you just mess up real bad on how long a person is?”
“Shut up,” Dan said. “I can make regular length jumpers, dick.”
Phil grinned at him, standing awkwardly with his feet crossed over and his hands in his pockets. Dan knew what was coming from that particular glint in his eye, but he didn’t have time to react before Phil ran at him and tackled him, knocking him back onto the bed. Dan let out a garbled protest, his arms automatically wrapping around Phil as he zeroed in on Dan’s neck, bites turning to kisses as they both giggled.
“Idiot,” Dan said, his tone soft and fond.
“No, you,” Phil said. He pushed down, kissing Dan properly now, his arms bracketing his face. “Come on, it’s my turn.”
“Your turn for what?” Dan frowned, trying to chase after him for another kiss.
“My turn to dress you up,” Phil said, grinning and bouncing up off of the bed, stumbling as he crossed over to the wardrobe again.
“Oh, did you decide what you want?” Dan propped himself up on one elbow, lazily watching Phil.
"Yeah, I think so," Phil said, pulling out a white hoodie.
"I've worn that before," Dan pointed out.
"Not like this."
"Like what?" Dan asked, squinting suspiciously.
Phil just grinned, slightly manically, and chucked the hoodie at Dan. Dan gave him another suspicious look, but tugged off the jumper he was wearing and pulled the hoodie on instead.
“Okay, now take your trousers off,” Phil said, his whole face crinkling up with the force of his smile.
“You want me to what?” Dan’s voice rose in pitch and volume to the point that any cats in the neighbourhood were probably sent into a panic.
“Come on, you made me do it,” Phil said, giving him a pleading look. That look could get Phil most things he wanted. Even after all these years, Dan had yet to build up any immunity to it.
“That- I- mine- it’s different!” Dan spluttered.
“It’s basically the same,” Phil insisted, coming over to sit on the bed.
“Ugh, fine,” Dan said, with a sigh. He glared at Phil as he unbuttoned his jeans and wriggled out of them. His pants were better than Phil’s, at least: black, with a graphic print of a dog on the butt. He kicked his jeans away, then tried to drag the hoodie over his bum, which only kind of worked. It was better than the crop sweater, at least.
“See, now we match,” Phil said, with a gleeful grin.
“Oh, shut up,” Dan said, not quite able to stop himself from smiling. “I look stupid.”
“No, we look stupid,” Phil corrected him, still grinning.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Dan whined. “My hoodie looks hot on you. You just made me look like an idiot with no trousers.”
“You made me look like an idiot with no trousers first,” Phil pointed out, trying to cross his legs without too much indecent exposure.
“It’s not the same,” whined Dan. “Mine is supposed to go without trousers.”
“Yeah, well.” Phil frowned. “Your mum is supposed to go without trousers.”
“Where’s she going?”
“Uh, I dunno,” Phil said. “She’s not got any trousers, though.”
“Stupid,” Dan said, with a snorted giggle.
“You’re stupid,” Phil said, shoving his shoulder gently.
“Your mum-”
“Shut up-” “No, you-”
The overlapping argument was ended by Phil pushing Dan off of the bed. He sat on the floor for a moment, blinking up at Phil with his mouth open.
“Abuse,” he said, finally, his tone soft.
Phil stretched himself across the bed, his head hanging out over Dan. “Well, I wouldn’t wear it outside.”
Dan frowned, trying to follow his train of thought. “Even with trousers?”
“Are trousers an option?” Phil asked, twisting to look Dan in the eye.
“Of course they’re an option, idiot,” Dan said, rolling his eyes.
“Oh. Then maybe.”
“Promo me, daddy.”
“Ugh, shut up, rat.”
Dan smirked, stretching up to press a soft kiss to Phil’s temple. Phil tried to chase the kiss, and ended up toppling off the bed as well, landing half on top of Dan.
“Ow, stop crushing me, you oaf,” Dan complained, kissing Phil again.
Phil shifted position, getting slightly more comfortable. “No, I live here now,” he said, nuzzling Dan’s neck in a way that made him squirm.
“I hate you,” he said, his arms circling around his waist as he pressed another kiss against his hairline.
“I know,” Phil said, with a soft sigh. His bare legs were tangled up with Dan’s, his skin slightly cool to the touch.
Dan could feel his bum starting to go numb, but he didn’t really want to move. He’d have to, eventually, but that really wasn’t his problem right now.