#a bad egg is what happens when you mess up a pokemon Very Badly

[alteiriaa]

QSMP: murder dinner happens, two Eggs who are not eggs turn into code monsters. Me, TCRF addled brain running full tilt, clapping hands gleefully: Bad Egg! Bad Egg! Bad Egg!!!!!

[crystaiskiess]

i’m bad at cooking (but not at loving you)

Part of the Our Photo Album series - does not need to be read in order but is recommended

Previous Part Series Masterlist

AO3 Link

Summary: 3 times Phil tries to make Dan breakfast, + 1 time it actually works

Author’s Notes: Hi all! I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I last posted school was insane and then I lost motivation for a bit! But I'm back and I'll do my best to post as often as possible!!! (Don't expect every Wednesday though unfortunately I can't make that happen!!!) I hope you're all well and that you enjoy this huge pile of fluff!!! :)))

1)

It was a cloudy, dark day outside, the sun barely emerged in whisps through cracks of clouds and rain pattered against the roof; creating a soft echo throughout Phil’s apartment. Phil yawned as he rubbed sleep residue from the corner of his eyes, smiling softly at the sleeping boy beside him. Dan’s hair was ruffled from the pillow, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, face smushed so that he was making an almost fishy face. Phil was struck by that oh so familiar feeling in his chest, a mix between fiery warmth in the pit of his belly and a tingle in his heart that crept all the way to the base of his throat. Love.

Softly, and being as careful as possible not to wake the sleeping boy Phil pressed a delicate kiss to Dan’s forehead. Smiling gently at the way Dan mumbled quietly in his sleep, cuddling closer to the pillow as though chasing Phil’s warmth. “I love you Daniel Howell,” Phil mumbled to no one in particular, his brain still fuzzy with sleep and the warmth of his bed.

Phil padded quietly down the hall towards the kitchen, in search of the familiar weight of a coffee mug in his hands. He smiled to himself as he listened to the rain continue to pour down, creating a soft ambience throughout the usually loud and bright apartment. It was as he made his way into the kitchen, allowing his hands to instinctively make his morning coffee and finding that he was making one for Dan without a second thought that he came up with idea. In hindsight, it wasn’t the brightest of ideas, and it certainly wasn’t one that he should have been making in such a half asleep state. However, on that dull, quiet morning Phil decided that he would make Dan breakfast.

There were two things wrong with that idea that sleep addled Phil didn’t think of. Firstly, Phil was not a good cook, he could barely scrape his way through a packet mix cake and was certainly not equipped to be making any form of breakfast. That was Dan’s speciality. Secondly, he didn’t really have the supplies to make breakfast. Being organised and buying the appropriate items of food to simply have around your house were not two things Phil was particularly good at doing. However, Phil thought of neither of these responsible issues and so he set off on his little idea. Managing to find a couple of eggs and enough milk to make them both coffees and add to scrambled eggs was deemed as a success to Phil. Clearly something was telling him that he was destined to make his boyfriend breakfast this morning.

So it was decided in Phil’s mind and he continued on, gently easing the door closed so as not to wake Dan, Phil opened his phone, allowing himself a brief smile at the adorable photo of Dan with sweater paws that was his lock screen, he put on some quiet music to play in the background of his cooking extravaganza. Phil smiled peacefully as he cracked an egg into the pan, humming along happily with the music. He turned around to begin putting the toast in (feeling very proud of himself for how organised he was being of course).

It was as he was sliding the pieces of bread into the toaster that an alert went off on his phone, which of course he couldn’t not check, and it was from Twitter so he slid open the notification without a second thought. What felt like only two seconds of scrolling later, suddenly he smelt a strange smell, and after a few sniffs he quickly identified the smell. “Shit!” Phil exclaimed, racing over to the blackened and smoky eggs, the awful concoction letting off a harsh smell of burntness and a lot of smoke. Phil removed the burnt eggs from the heat as quickly as possible, acutely aware of the large amounts of smoke drifting up to his ceiling. It was a moment too late that he realised he hadn’t turned the fan head on.

The smoke alarm trilled throughout the apartment, it’s high squeaks ringing in Phil’s eardrums and he winced as he pulled out a tea towel to fan at it. Hurried footsteps thundered down the corridor towards him and Phil sighed as he climbed on a chair to gain a higher vantage point to fan at the loud machine. Dan flung open the door, his bed head creating an almost quiff of curls and his eyes heavy due to still being half asleep. Phil smiled sheepishly at his dishevelled boyfriend, still waving the tea towel across the smoke alarm in the hopes of silencing it.

Dan raised a sleepy eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip quirking into a fond smile as he took in the state of the kitchen as the smoke alarm finally realised that there was no actual fire danger. Phil watched as the chocolate brown eyes took in the smoking eggs haphazardly thrown into the sink, the mess of shells left on the counter as Phil had been too lazy to put them away as he went, the large array of cooking utensils strewn all over the kitchen and his own boyfriend, Phil, standing on a chair, holding a pokemon tea towel and smiling at him sheepishly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dan asked, unable to hide the grin that covered his face, eyes sparkling with affection as he held out a hand to help Phil down. Phil smiled, accepting the hand and using it to tug Dan close to his chest when he reached the ground, his heart leaping with joy as Dan giggled softly, pressing a kiss to Phil’s cheek as Phil replied, “I made you breakfast,” he presented the smoking eggs with a flourish before wincing slightly in shame, “sort of?” “I am not eating that,” Dan replied with a snort, turning Phil’s face so that their noses brushed together as he pecked him gently on the lips, “but you’re cute.”

2)

The next time was slightly less of a catastrophe, although, not exactly successful either. It was a fair few months after Phil’s first attempt at making their breakfast. Despite Dan’s teasing Phil could tell he appreciated the gesture, no matter how badly it turned out, it’s the thought that counts okay?

This time however, Phil was determined to get it right, he got up at a reasonable hour and had prepared the night before. Purchasing the necessary equipment and ingredients and managing to find himself a recipe for french toast. Phil was adamant that nothing would go wrong this time. Once again padding out of the bedroom after kissing Dan’s sleeping forehead, this time in Dan’s apartment, Phil made his way to the kitchen. This time the atmosphere was brighter, although it was England and there was the mandatory clouds in the sky, the sun shone through the window creating a soft warm glow in the otherwise bare room.

As Phil wandered around the room, collecting bowls, spoons and ingredients, he was taken aback by how well he knew Dan’s kitchen, and how much his own possessions had integrated into this apartment. His coffee mug sat next to Dan’s on the counter and photos of the two of them could be seen in every nook and cranny. He smiled happily at the implications of their dual possessions as he bustled away, pouring milk and cracking eggs into a bowl. He reached for the vanilla extract, smiling at the photo Louise had taken of their first kiss, the sunset shining in the background. He hummed to himself as he waltzed across the kitchen, enjoying the pleasant buzz in the centre of his stomach that always began when he thought about Dan. Grabbing the loaf of bread and clicking the coffee machine on he started the stove, double checking the recipe to make sure he was doing it right. Once he had successfully dipped the french toast into the mixture and placed it in a pan ready to start frying he bumbled his way back into the bedroom.

Phil leaned against the doorframe, pausing for a moment to allow his heart to accept that this was something he could do. He could watch his boyfriend happily curled up in bed, with his crazily ruffled curls and his sleeping smile. He could walk over and cuddle Dan to his chest and whisper ‘I love yous’ until the sleeping boy woke up with a smile on his lips and dimples creating soft crevices in his cheeks. Phil sighed happily, watching as Dan shuffled around in his sleep, curls falling in front of his eyes. He tiptoed across the room, gently sliding into the bed and brushing Dan’s curls out of his face. With a gentle kisses to Dan’s cheeks and nose Phil watched as his boyfriend slowly emerged from slumber.

Dan blinked wearily before smiling, his eyes creasing with fondness that the students teased them about. Calling Dan Mr Heart Eyes instead of Mr Howell and creating ship names and theories behind their back which Phil secretly enjoyed to listen to. “What’s this?” Dan asked, snuggling into the crook of Phil’s neck, pressing their bodies so tightly together that Dan would definitely be able to feel the way Phil’s heart still sped up when they were together. Phil smiled, pulling them up so that their faces were in line and he had a good angle to kiss Dan softly, slotting their lips together lazily and allowing the love he held in his heart to pour through the kiss. Every time they kissed it felt magical, as dumb and cliche as that sounded, Phil could still feel his fingertips tingle and his heart skip a beat as Dan moved his lips slowly and lazily against his own. When they finally pulled apart, Phil began to drag Dan out of bed, much to the bemoaning of his boyfriend, “come on, I’ve got a surprise!” Phil grinned.

As they entered the kitchen, their hands intertwined between them, the coffee machine clicked over to ‘ready’ and Phil mentally applauded himself, perfect timing. Dan grinned in confusion, slipping onto the bench stool that Phil proudly directed him towards, “breakfast!” Phil cheered, doing cheezy jazz hands which made Dan snort with laughter, the noise filling Phil with a bubbly warm liquid like happiness. “That didn’t go so well last time,” Dan reminded him with a shit eating grin, resting his chin on his hands as he watched Phil get to work.

Phil tutted at his boyfriend, not looking up lest he get distracted by Dan’s beautiful face and make a silly mistake, “yes yes, but I’m doing better this time” Phil flipped the piece of bread onto the plate and risked a glance at Dan who was being as ridiculously beautiful as Phil had expected. With a hint of humour, tracing the fond lines of his face. “Mmmmhmm,” Dan hummed, watching as Phil made the other piece, sliding the plate of french toast towards himself and sprinkling some sugar on top, “do I eat?” Dan checked. Phil snuck a glance up at him and almost choked on his own spit at the way Dan was looking at him. With a mix of love, amusement and fondness all rolled into a soft smile.

“Um ugh uh yeah go-go for it,” Phil stammered, turning his flaming red cheeks back to the dish he was cooking. He listened as Dan took a bite, humming thoughtfully. Suddenly there was a gagging noise and a chunk of french toast flew onto the table, Phil glanced up in shock at Dan’s face, screwed up in disgust but still managing to laugh fondly through it all. “What happened?” Phil gaped, almost burning his hand on the pan as he got distracted. Dan wiggled his tongue around in disgust, his face screwed up in mock agony.

“Phil,” Dan laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “I love you and all, but that was horrible !” Phil’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why were they horrible though!” He pouted, “I followed the recipe to the exact!” Dan peered over the bench at the mixture, “what’s in that?” He asked, jumping off his stool to have a look at what was being made. Phil took the pan off the heat carefully and showed Dan the recipe. Dan nodded slowly, a realisation seeming to dawn on him, “did you notice that I moved my sweet flavours to the cupboard?” He asked with a knowing grin.

Phil stared at him blankly, following his eyeline to the bottle of vanilla extract he had used earlier. Only it wasn’t vanilla extract, it was soy sauce. He groaned in annoyance, “I’m an idiot.” Dan laughed softly, tugging him by the apron strings until they were flush against each other, “yeah, but you’re my idiot,” Dan whispered, kissing Phil gently.

3)

It was early in the morning, the sun rising in the sky as light filtered through the clouds. The air felt fresh as Phil breathed in, he quietly made his way down the hall of Dan’s- no- their apartment. Phil smiled to himself at the recent change, allowing tingles of happiness to creep down his arms and swirl in his stomach as he looked at the subtle way the apartment had changed since his ‘official’ move in. More socks decorated the surface of the home, much to Dan’s teasing and feigned annoyance. There were picture frames on their hall table of Phil and his brother next to the photos of Bea and Dan.

His footsteps seemed to echo in the quiet kitchen. To avoid any disasters Phil had decided to make a fruit muesli, no cooking, no disasters. He let his mind stray as he collected the fruit from the fridge, easily slipping back into thoughts of moving in with Dan. Kisses sitting on boxes and unpacking his possessions until they were propped up next to Dan’s, until their lives were intertwined together fully. He smiled to himself, remembering the way Dan had kissed Phil against the door to their bedroom until Phil’s knees had buckled and his insides had melted.

He was halfway done with the muesli when a flurry of footsteps raced into the kitchen, “fuck!” Dan screeched as he skidded into the kitchen, socks gliding across the wooden floorboards. Phil looked up in shock as Dan pecked him on the cheek with an apologetic wince, “what’s wrong?” He asked as Dan grabbed a piece of watermelon, noticing that Dan was wearing his suit, albeit slightly ruffled. “I forgot I’ve got a meeting this morning,” Dan mumbled quickly, his hair still sticking up from sleep and his eyes heavy, “I’m so sorry, I can see you were making breakfast…” Dan trailed off, his face falling to reveal his guilt.

Phil rolled his eyes, grabbing Dan gently by the badly tied tie and pulling him closer so that he could adjust the tie. His eyes were soft with affection, and he smiled at his boyfriend until Dan relaxed visibly before him, “I don’t mind you dork,” he pulled the tie tighter so that it was fit snugly and it looked much neater. “I love you,” Dan mumbled, cupping Phil’s face in his hands gently, “so much.” Phil smiled, kissing Dan once on the nose, once on each cheek and once on the lips, before replying, “I love you more.” Dan snorted, rolling his eyes, “fucking fight me.” “Bring it,” Phil giggled, wrapping his arms around Dan, so that they were cuddled close in the middle of their kitchen.

+1)

Phil had it planned out fully this time, he had subtly checked the night before that Dan was free the next morning; by subtly he meant that he asked, “are you free tomorrow?” Causing Dan to look at him with a mixture of amusement and affection before replying with, “yeah I am,” with a quirk of his lips that made Phil kiss him until neither of them could breathe. He had even gotten the family pancake recipe from his mother, to make sure he could successfully avoid any soy sauce incidents or smoking eggs.

As Phil pressed the usual soft kiss to Dan’s forehead his boyfriend stirred, “Wha’s happenin?” Dan mumbled, clearly still half asleep. Phil smiled softly, nuzzling his nose into Dan’s soft curls. “Nothing, don’t worry I’m just gonna do something,” Phil whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Dan’s cheekbone, “go back to sleep,” he encouraged. “Don’t leave,” Dan whined, cuddling closer to Phil’s body, their limbs intertwining ever further, “stay,” Dan whispered, his eyes sliding closed again. Phil waited until Dan’s breathing evened out into slow inhales and exhales before carefully slipping out of the sleeping boy’s grip. Allowing a small smile to grace his features as Dan murmured something in his sleep and frowned ever so slightly before going back to his slumber.

Phil made his way to the kitchen, being careful to step over a shoe which had somehow made its way into the hallway. He smiled at the newly hung photo that he had taken of Dan and Bea clumsily dancing on the beach because they could hear their childhood favourite song. Phil drunk in the memory joyfully, even singing the song to himself as he entered the kitchen, pulling up the recipe on his phone and carefully getting the ingredients. Learning from his mistakes he carefully checked every label and was sure that he retrieved the correct ingredients. He quietly began the recipe, thinking about the two years he had already spent in Dan’s company and considered the future. Maybe one day Dan would introduce him to his family, Phil didn’t mind that they hadn’t told them yet though, he could respect that Dan needed time and that it was a terrifying step. In Phil’s mind they had all the time in the world, he could see himself in forty, fifty, sixty years time, still with Dan and living by his side. As, dare he even think it lest he jinx himself, husbands?

Phil had never voiced any of this aloud to Dan, he knew he got attached easily, and maybe Dan didn’t see themselves as clearly in the future. However, the longer Phil spent time with the brown, curly haired boy he couldn’t see a future without him. He couldn’t imagine living without Dan by his side, with his stupid jokes and his teasing smirk, his soft kisses and his cheesy pick up lines. Phil pulled himself out of the sappy hole he had fallen into, now was not the time for imagining his future with Dan, he was sure to do that in the shower, and that night, and at work, in fact Phil wasn’t sure when he wasn’t thinking about it at the moment. However at that moment as he was pouring pancake mixture into a hot frying pan, it was not the time.

The smell of cooking pancakes wafted down the hall and Phil smiled as he heard the tell-tale signs of rusting. In not even five minutes Dan was dawdling his way into the kitchen, a disbelieving smile tugging at his features and his phone in his hand. “I can’t believe you’re still trying to make breakfast for me!” Dan teased as he gently pressed a kiss to Phil’s cheek, “isn’t it time to give up by now?” “I’m determined, it’s going well this time,” Phil responded, with an exaggerated focused face.

Dan sniffed the air, a fond smile still brightening his features, “no soy sauce this time?” He poked Phil in the side gently, leaning into him ever so slightly while being careful not to inhibit his movement as he cooked. Phil rolled his eyes heavily, bumping his hip against Dan’s, “nope! I was super careful,” he turned his eyes off the pan quickly to take in the crinkles beside Dan’s eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, just awake Dan was one of Phil’s favourite Dans. Along with work Dan, tired Dan and sappy Dan, actually anything that was Dan.

Phil watched as his boyfriend pulled up a chair at the counter, his eyebrow still quirked ever so slightly as Phil flipped the pancake onto the plate. “Bon appetit mon cheri!” Phil presented the plate to Dan with an awful french accent. Dan laughed though so the slander of such a beautiful language was worth it. Phil watched anxiously, his own fork poised and ready to taste but too distracted by Dan and his mouthful to even notice he wasn’t eating. There was a pause as Dan chewed, exaggerating his movements to make Phil laugh.

“It’s delicious you spork,” Dan declared as he swallowed the mouthful, leaning across the bench to plant a pancake tasting, sleepy kiss to Phil’s lips, “you finally made me breakfast.”