Dan's POV
I stood as silently and stationary as I could have managed while observing the thief at work. My PJ bottoms swayed against my ankles, caught by the cool draft wiping about our flat. I hadn't even gotten the time to wipe the crusties from my eyes before I heard the not-so-silent criminal hard at work depriving me of my hearts truest desires, "Again with the cereal, Spork?! When will you leave my beloved box in peace!" Phil jumped, dropping the cereal box in surprise, laying waste to the few pieces that splashed across our kitchen floor. I let out an exacerbated outcry which earned me a nervous glance from him, too quickly replaced with his scrunched up eyes and thinned mouth.
"Now look! You've made me waste these beautiful pieces of cereal that could have found a loving home in my mouth," Phil added a gesture towards the fallen grain. I smirked and dropped to the floor, crawling on it as I picked up the mess until I had made my way to Phil's feet. Only then did I rise up on my knees and look up to him, a hand full of rubbish. He was looking down at me, his cheeks flushed and with a growing grin. I rolled my eyes and stood to my full height, just barely surpassing Phil, who was still eyeing me mischievously.
"Phil, we actually have stuff to do today," I warned, or well, attempted to warn though it came out rather as simply something to consider. He nodded as if he took the statement to heart but as he inched closer to me, bringing his lips a breath away from mine, I knew he hadn't even considered the information. "Ah fuck it," I whispered underneath my breath, earning me a smiling and gentle kiss from Phil that turned more passionate. Phil brought his hand to my chin, controlling the direction of the deeper growing kiss and I brought my arm around his waist bringing him up against me. He slipped his tongue into my welcoming mouth and as it explored the familiar terrain I grazed my hand underneath Phil's shirt. We were moving backward and only stopped when I had been backed up against the counter. Unsurprisingly this hadn't been the first time I had been stuck between a hard place and a hard Phil.
Phil started to snicker and I pulled away from him with a raised eyebrow. He shook his head bringing himself back to my lips mumbling about how my pleased sighs would be the death of him someday. The light-hearted mood was quickly replaced with husky moans and hands slipping into one another's pants. "Bloody hell Daniel," Phil moaned as I began to stroke him and he moved his lips, kissing a trail down my chin to my neck. He began to nibble on the sensitive skin and I took in a sharp breath.
"Lower," I requested in a whisper. He understood my concern and brought his lips down my collarbone to my chest, somewhere the camera would never see. I continued stroking him, knowing I was successfully keeping a good pace and rhythm when he failed to keep his sucking and tasting at a constant rate. I let out an involuntary moan when he surprised me with a nibble on the bud of my nipple and he responded with a sound of approval. Then, as if our session had simply reached its time limit he pulled his mouth from my chest and stepped back, letting my hand slip from his pants.
Before I could voice my complaints, Phil planted a quick peck to my lips, his hand grazing my check before he took off towards the door. Leaving in his place, "The door has been ringing for the past three minutes." I remained against the counter now hearing what Phil's moans had once been out shining, a harsh bell that went off every few seconds. I jutted my lip out in protest for no one to see before I could hear voices at the door, "Sorry to wake you sir!" A chipper voice sang, "The instructions say I couldn't leave the package without a signature." Phil said something that made the delivery girl giggle.
"Thank you and have yourself a lovely day," the girl called and Phil remarked a similar goodbye before closing the door. I walked out towards him, watching as he picked at a large cardboard box. I waited patiently, hoping he would remember he had been in the middle of what I would consider a very important task, but alas the delivery girl had waved something shiny in his face and he was hooked. He was similar to a dog, easily distracted, but I suppose I was too, just with other things I reflected with a glance at the tent in my pants.
"What did you get?" I questioned, drawing Phil from his own curious mutterings. He glanced up at me, his eyebrows still drawn in before relaxing.
A lazy smile grew on his lips, 'I have no idea, I can't remember." I tilted my head to the side before walking up to the box and looking at it just as puzzled.
"Maybe it's a bomb," I guessed.
"It's not a bomb," he retorted, rolling his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh.
"Did you get another bloody house plant?" I questioned both with hilarity and an exhaustion that has grown from the many, many, MANY, deliveries of living organisms in the shape of green leafed oxygenators
"I did not get-" Phil paused tilting his head up to the sky and mumbling about how something would not arrive for another week, "this isn't another house plant." Which of course had me prepared for the houseplant it seemed we would be getting in a week.
"How about you just open the box so we can figure out what it is and then sign you up for an online shoppers anon meeting," I paused for a tension build, "again." Phil rolled his eyes endearingly. In the process his smirk let free a peek at his pearly whites and he scoffed.
"I really do have a problem," he joked as he began to pick at the tape encasing his package.
I nodded my head in the most therapist-y way I could manage, "Well admitting you have a problem is the first step towards recovery."
Phil's adept hands had managed to delicately open the cardboard box to an exorbitant amount of packing peanuts which of course got an excited yip out of Phil. I had already begun to question how we were going to clean this up when it inevitably fell over and littered our floor.
He was fully engulfed in the deep box, swishing around trying to find whatever the package was hiding when he started to pull out a plastic wrapped item. He began to unwrap his self given gift from its protected layer, pulling from it a new tripod. Phil looked at the device with his eyebrows drawn in and tongue running along his bottom lip, "Oh, weren't you just talking about how you needed a new one of those?" Last time Phil and I had been out he was complaining about how his tripod's tilt was too loose making his camera droop.
"Yeah," he answered, still examining the device with curiosity. I waited patiently for him to explain his confusion, wondering if perhaps he had tried to get a bright yellow one covered in kitten and coffee stickers. He glanced up at me then back down to it then back up at me, "Did you order it?" He questioned. I shook my head no, growing more confused. "I don't remember actually ordering one, just complaining," he trailed off before shaking his head and smiling. He stood up and pitched the tripod back in the box, causing a cascade of packing plastic to find its way on our floor. I sighed, closing my eyes and shaking my head already knowing exactly what "oops" look Phil was giving me.
