Dan hummed absentmindedly to himself as he fixed himself a quick breakfast, eager to join Phil in the living room, and to watch the British-Bake-Off together. He poured his tea into a Hello Kitty themed mug, and reached into the cabinet for a box of cereal. He could hear the show starting in the other room, and quickened his pace, opening the box of Crunchy Nut—which was already open, as he noticed with a slight frown. He hadn't opened it the night before, had he?
Suspicious, he turned the box over above his bowl, and watched as nothing but crumbs fell from it. He looked inside. He'd just bought that box the day before!
"What the—Phil."
Abandoning his steaming mug, Dan sighed, and stomped towards his flat-mate, the box of cereal in his hand. Phil turned his attention from the TV to Dan, and looked up at him with an innocent smile.
"Is something wrong, Dan?" he asked, and Dan rolled his eyes, holding out the empty box.
"My cereal box is empty, Phil. Do you have any idea why that could be?"
Phil shook his head. "What? No, I don't. It definitely wasn't me," he protested stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dan shook his head. "Really, Phil, it wasn't you? Yeah, I definitely believe that!" The sarcasm was obvious is Dan's tone, but he couldn't help but crack a smile. "I just bought this yesterday! You ate the whole box!" he yelled, shaking the empty box at Phil.
"No, stop that!" Phil laughed, poking Dan in the side.
Dan inhaled sharply, and let it out in a loud, shocked laugh. Phil poked him again, grinning. Dan's laughter began to fill the room, drowning out the struggles of a woman with runny frosting on the TV.
"Stop that!" Dan ordered, his voice shaking with laughter. The box of cereal fell from his hand as he tried his best to block Phil's attacks. Phil stood, going for the neck, tickling without remorse or relent.
Dan backed away, laughing uncontrollably. "This isn't fair!" he yelled. "You ate all my cereal!"
Phil didn't respond, as he advanced towards Dan. Dan took another step back, and then yelped, slipping on the discarded box of cereal. He lost his balance and fell backwards, and Phil fell with him.
Dan hit the couch, and yelped as Phil fell on top of him. The two stayed motionless for a moment, looking at each other.
"This is your fault," Dan said in a flat voice, as his face began to redden. Above him, Phil laughed, a happy, innocent sound. His raven hair was tousled and his cheeks had turned a light pink. His smile was infectious, and Dan felt himself smiling too, his face warm and his chest fluttery.
The couch sagged beneath them, but neither made an attempt to move. It was like the universe had suddenly pressed the slow motion button; everything was bright and big and sudden, and it felt slow and serene. Dan took in a breath, and looked up into Phil's wide eyes, and Phil looked down into Dan's.
Dan was struck by a sudden desire, to lean up and catch Phil on the lips, and his eyes widened by a small fraction. This, too, he supposed was Phil's fault, but did he mind, really? He rolled his eyes and then closed them, pushing on the couch, leaning forward towards Phil's face.
Phil let out a tiny gasp, but did nothing to stop him, and soon their faces collided, lips on lips, and Dan felt his heart swell with a kind of happiness he'd never felt before.
When they pulled apart, it felt like an eternity later, though the woman on the TV was still complaining about the state of her frosting and the morning sun was still shining outside. Phil pulled himself into a regular sitting position, and Dan sat next to him, and they stayed like that for a few moments, silent and warm. Dan felt as though his face had been set on fire, but in a good way.
"So," Phil started, his voice soft, but Dan cut him off.
"I blame you for this, too, you know," he said, looking away. Phil laughed, and picked up his tea, taking a sip. Leveling an innocent, happy look at Dan, he smiled.
"So, if I keep stealing your cereal, will you keep doing that?" he asked, his tone nonchalant.
"Phil!"
