Competition

"You're ugly," Dan whispered under his breath in the lightless room.

"I'm perfect," Phil said confidently, from somewhere to his right.

"Perfectly ugly," Dan said. He felt Phil shift beside him, felt his warm breath tickle his ear, felt the gentle warmth radiate from his body.

"Do you want to fight, mate?" Phil asked quietly.

"I do," Dan said, closing his eyes and smiling. Phil began playfully battering Dan's abdomen, and the younger man laughed and pushed him off.

"I win," Phil said cheekily, and Dan could picture the doofish smile plastered on his boyish face.

"Oh, do you?" Dan chuckled under his breath.

"Yeah, I do." Phil insisted gently.

"Alright, Phil. Whatever helps you sleep," Dan said, pulling the older man against him.

But Phil pushed himself up. "I did!" he laughed out, raising his voice to a normal octave.

"Alright, Phil. Lay down, please," Dan bade. Begrudgingly, Phil did so.

"I did, he muttered. Dan chuckled once more and kissed the head that rested beside his own.

"I love you, Phillie," he said, voice hardly audible.

"I love you, more," Phil muttered into Dan's neck.

"Does everything have to be a competition with you?" Dan laughed out.

"Yes," Phil mused. Dan shook his head, and the men were silent as they drifted off to blissful sleep against one another.