“Well, put it on! I wanna get pictures.” Phil punched his shoulder playfully, already moving to pull his own shirt off.

“I’m not going to argue,” Simon muttered before sighing mournfully, “but you know I think it’s stupid.”

“Oh, I know.”

Phillip grabbed the shirt Simon had discarded and held it out in front of him with a grin. “Ordered ‘em when you were gone, I decided by the time you were back I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Simon only stared at him in disbelief.

Grabbing one, he looked at the fabric quietly, his eyebrows drawn tight in confusion.

“I’m he’s? That’s…” He stopped himself, trading the shirt for the other. A soft scoff fell from his lips before he could help it. “Okay.”

Still slightly cautious, Simon picked up the small gift and felt the weight of it in his hands. It felt soft and light; clothes then.

He glanced at the other man once before flipping it and unwrapping the paper. Simon let the trash fall onto the bed, finding two black shirts.

Phillip stood just slightly behind him, a sly smile on his lips. There was that familiar look in his eyes. The one Simon knew only meant trouble.

“It’s a gift,” Phillip replied while shoving his hands in his back pockets, “well there’s one for me and you in there.”

“What is this?” Simon asked gruffly, tugging on his skull balaclava as he eyed the package on his bed warily.

It was unassuming and wrapped in brown paper. There was no note, but he knew who it was from — the man standing right besides him.