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“Oh, wow.”
Phil hadn’t noticed Dan enter the room, and jumped a little when he spoke. He was sitting cross-legged in front of his computer, a half-eaten slice of cake sitting on a plate next to the mouse.
“That actually looks like a cake,” Dan continued, wrapping his arms around Phil’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his hair. “I’m impressed.”
“It’s actually quite good,” Phil said, reaching for the cake. “You want some?”
“Sure.” Dan opened his mouth, letting Phil lift a forkful of cake into it. “Hm. It’s kind of dense, isn’t it?” “It’s not bad, though, is it?” Phil said, placing the fork back onto the plate. “I messed up a few things—it’s got three eggs instead of one—”
“You used three times too many eggs?” Dan’s voice shot quickly into a register only mice could hear.
“—but, honestly, it could have been so much worse.” Phil finished talking like Dan hadn’t interrupted.
“Oh, God.” Dan slid into a kneeling position next to the desk, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Okay, show me.”
“It’s not finished,” Phil said, dragging the video back to the beginning and clicking play.
Dan just made a shushing motion, intently watching it. He let out a small offended noise at the mention of his own name, swatting at Phil’s thigh, but it wasn’t until Phil started pouring things out that he said anything.
“Jesus, Phil, you didn’t even measure anything?”
“It’s part of the challenge!” Phil protested.
Dan just rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the video. “Three hundred degrees? Tell me you didn’t cook it at three hundred—”
“I didn’t!”
“—you’d just have a burnt fucking husk of a cake, Phil, honestly—”
“Shut up and watch it, rat.”
Dan managed to shut up, although he couldn’t keep it up for the whole video. As it finished, he dragged his gaze back to Phil, a mixture of horror and awe on his face.
“I can’t believe you let me eat that,” he said.
“It was fine!” Phil said, his face falling into a pout. “I thought I did a good job.”
“Well… you’re closer to Bake Off than I thought,” Dan allowed, a small smile growing on his face.
“I might try it, you know,” Phil said, his pout turning into a grin. “I think I’d be a dark horse.”
Dan hummed noncommittally. “I don’t know,” he said, “I still think you might kill Paul Hollywood.”
“Well, that’s just part of the job,” Phil said dismissively. “He risks his life every day on there, you know.”
Dan honked, his laughter startlingly loud. “Well, don’t quit your day job,” he said, using the desk to push himself to his feet. “But, you know… it’s surprisingly edible.”
The proud look on Phil’s face was better than any cake could be.