A/N: this just in: mads finds an unfinished piece and decides to continue it, captain hindsight realizing it was a bad idea, as sometimes things are meant to be left unfinished.
please excuse how ridiculous this is im
***
Phil bounded into the parlor with a grin.
"Oh dear God," I said on the spot.
Phil laughed and poked his tongue out. "You haven't even heard what it is, yet!" he exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes. "So... what is it?"
"I wanna make you a sandwich," he said simply.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you joking? You want to just make a bloody sandwich? Phil you didn't have to ask! And besides, I can do it myself..."
Phil shook his head, still grinning. "No, it's a game thing. I make you a mystery sandwich and you have to guess all the ingredients! And then you do the same for me," he explained.
"Ohhh!" I said, finally understanding. Phil nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets. "So, how 'bout it?" "Right now?" I asked. Phil nodded again. "No time like the present!"
So we set up our respected sides of the kitchen and got ready. "Phil, I need a butter knife," I asked, rummaging around in the drawers to look for one. Phil came over and handed one to me. I thanked him.
"Alright, who's going first?" he asked as he lay out slices of ham neatly. "Er, rock-paper-scissors for it?" I asked. Phil nodded, "Okay."
Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT! "I win!" announced Phil excitedly, followed by a "Prepare yourself."
Phil spun me around and pulled the red ribbon over my eyes. "Can you see anything?" he asked me. I shook my head. "Not a thing." Phil chuckled: "Good."
"Okay Dan, here's your sandwich," Phil said, placing a thick sandwich in my hands. I laughed, nervous of what I would be tasting, but took a large bite anyways. "Mmm," I hummed, thinking of what flavours I had. "Okay, I think I'm tasting tomato, and cheese-" "What cheese?" "Swiss cheese, and Dill pickles-" "No! Not our son!" "And something else..."
"What do you taste?" Phil asked, egging me on.
I twisted my face into a frown before figuring it out. "Ah! I got it! Horseradish sauce!"
Phil laughed. "You're right!" he shouted.
I beamed and began to take the ribbon off, when Phil moved my hands away, and instead intertwined them with his. "Now, taste this," he said.
Suddenly Phil's lips were pressed against mine. He moved his lips against mine in a steady rhythm, and I moved mine against his the same. "I taste cherry... is that your lip balm?" I said finally, after a breathless attack of kisses. "You got it," Phil breathed, placing his head on my shoulder. I laughed and nuzzled into him. "That was fun... now you have to help me clean up!" he announced, spinning me around the kitchen. "Oh, bloody hell Phil!"
