A/N: Hob Nobs are pretty good.

Let's be honest - Dan totally preps for baking videos and Phil depletes the supplies IRL.

Characters: Dan, Phil

Genre: Friendship, Humor

Rating: K-plus

Fiends

If there was one thing that Dan knew, it was that Phil was addicted to sugar.

Dan had his own days, of course, where he didn't each much except cereal or junk, but Phil took it to a whole new level. Dan could literally not count how many times his best friend had stolen chocolate chips and marshmallows meant for baking, or other such candies. (And let's not even talk about his cereal being stolen.) He was starting to become worried it was a compulsion issue for the raven-haired boy.

But while Phil tended to nab sugar quite a bit and become rally, he had a rival in their Irish roommate.

Dan wasn't sure whether it was some Bossotronio issue - maybe he needed the extra energy because he burned it too fast? - or if Jack just had an addiction, but there were as many accidents with Jack as with Phil.

The Brit set down his grocery bag, a little huffily, as he surveyed the kitchen; it was too clean, immaculate. Not a crumb to be seen.

But the cookies he needed to crumble for the dessert he was going to make was mysteriously gone, as was the packaging void from the bin.

Dan didn't get angry, really - just irritated. But he really was quite irritated at the moment.

Phil must have felt the irritation who jerks had plans ugh irritated disgruntled coming from him as soon as he walked in, as he began to approach slowly, inquiring, "Dan?"

Phil would have laughed at the expression on Dan's face if he didn't know that his friend was really irritated. Instead, he waited blankly for Dan to answer.

"Did you eat the rest of the Hob Nobs?" He asked, voice stern.

Phil blinked, confused. "What do you mean? Are they gone?" It was clear from his tone that it wasn't him. "I've been at work all day, and besides - you told Jack and I specifically not to touch them."

Dan slowly relaxed, brow confused. "Okay, so it wasn't you. And Jack is doing that Twenty-four hour nap thing after keeping his freaky eyeball pet out for half a day. And Mark doesn't touch stuff he didn't but without asking. So who. . .?"

Phil stifled a laugh, grinning behind his hand. Dan merely gave a disgruntled, "What?"

Phil just kept chuckling, blue eyes twinkling.

"I swear to god Phil if you don't tell me what's so funny-"

He snapped his mouth closed as he felt merriment silly Dan forgetful funny, and Phil breathed out between his chuckling, "Top shelf."

Dan looked at the cabinet in confusion. Then his eyes rose up to the gap between the top of the cabinet and the roof. Embarrassment flushed through him as he remembered squirreling away certain things up there so that the "shorties" couldn't get them, and Phil was too clever to incriminate himself by stealing from there.

Idiot embarrssed oh yeah forgot.

Silly dork it's okay fondness.

He pulled the cylindrical packaging down, muttering, "I hate you," to his friend, who just kept giggling, "no you don't."