Chapter Text
*
It was around 18:00 when Dan checked the time on his laptop, empty crisps bag to his right. Dan took off his navy headphones to try to tune in if Phil was in the kitchen or not, but he couldn't hear anything. Phil was probably asleep, or at least trying to be. It was their well deserved lazy week after all.
Dan knocked on Phil's already open door, revealing the older man snug under his checkered blanket. Phil groaned at the disturbance if his peace and quiet.
“It's your turn to make dinner, you spork.”
"Mmm” Phil rolled over to his other side, half acknowledging Dan. The taller man marched over to his bed and ripped off the blanket keeping Phil trapped in his warm cocoon. All that he was wearing was a bright green shirt, twice as big for his body, and some star wars pajama pants.
“Noooo,” Phil protested lazily “I need that duvet to liiiive.”
“Phil, you're being a Phil again.”
“Noooooooo.”
Dan and Phil have grown quite attached to an evening routine, making and taking turns to make each other quirky and experimental dinners, and settling down to a movie, or a binge marathon of a series underneath a giant duvet. It was a rhythm, an excerpt of a duet where two instruments remain on a fine line, only relying on each other. They have grown so used to each other and their unusual habits, like Dan’s rather excessive commentary of what's on TV, or Phil's tendency to occasionally spill hot coffee all over himself and dan. Occasionally.
Often the two would stay up hours after the meal. Maybe if Phil was especially lazy that day, he would fall asleep on the couch, and wake up closer to noon and having another coffee.
They wouldn't want it any other way.
It was so simplistic for them, and it was rather refreshing. It was hell only a few months ago, with their tour and TABINOF and holiday travel, Dan and Phil could rarely have lazy days off recording and editing videos for their channels. It was to the point where it didn't matter about the productivity of the day, just enjoying the company of each other.
A few hours later the two men were doing just that. Perched on their sides of the couch, coffee mugs in their hands to wash out the taste of Phil’s futile attempt to make stir fry. An episode of Bones was playing when something hit Dan in the blue. A subtle wave of dizziness spread on his vision and conciseness for a moment, but then he tried to focus back on the episode, not considering it.
The younger man stretched his back and legs, assuming a more comfortable position, then flopped to his right into the empty duvet space between him and Phil. Phil glanced at him, chuckling at his awkward behavior.
“You moved too much, I can see your hobbit hair”
“Shut up” Dan mumbled under his breath.
The episode was nearing its conclusion and as usual, the only rational string of evidence was reveal, which made no sense. So there usually would be a cynical Dan comment, but all Phil heard was gentle breathing beside him.
The black haired man turned to him, only to find his flatmate was fast asleep, and rather early too. Phil smiled to himself. Dan was beautiful when he was asleep. His long eyelashes peeked out underneath a ruffled, almost curly fringe. His hand was tucked underneath his head, Dan’s chest slowly rising and falling with every passing second. Phil would never tell anyone, but Dan is probably the cutest guy he knows. Phil reluctantly tore his gaze to the digital clock on a nearby shelf
19:43
This was an extremely early time to sleep, especially in Dan’s case. Usually Phil would be the first person out. He also doesn't recall Dan doing anything exhausting enough today, even more strange. Phil dared not to wake him though. He couldn't lose this precious image yet, even if it wasn't the best choice not to wake him.
Phil switched off the TV, and, as quietly as he could, pulled up the duvet Dan was under up to his chin, and even brought him his laptop from his room.
Phil should earn a friendship point if they existed. Or at least a sticker. Phil looked around for a sticker around the lounge, and found a pack of old kitten stickers behind a pile of Stephen King novels. Phil considered putting one playfully on Dans fringe or nose, but didn't want to have any chance to wake him up.
Phil patted a tabby on the screen before he scurried away to his bedroom, sneaking a last cheeky glance at his best friend.
*