Phoenix makes the great sacrifice of flipping himself over like a stranded fish, and is rewarded with the sight of Miles in a robe, pouring tea.
"Do you take milk or sugar?"
"Come the fuck back over here."
Miles blinks at him.
"You heard me."
Deliberately, Miles takes a sip of his tea, then puts the cup down. Phoenix opens his arms wide, realizing briefly that he stinks, not caring, and it works out fine because Miles moves straight into them, climbing on to the bed and dropping on Phoenix like a great big cat.
Phoenix hugs him. He hugs him as hard as he can. He squeezes so hard his muscles ache. He splays his fingers around Miles's sides.
Miles lets out a brief huff, then a small amused snort, and then he gives as good as he gets. Ooof: Miles is strong. Stronger than Phoenix had figured. Then again, Phoenix is realizing that Miles has a bit more muscle on him than Phoenix had imagined. He'd never really had time to appreciate that before, has never really had time for things to not be urgent and dramatic. He's never had time for tea and a robe and a hug that feels like it's massaging his soul.
"Hey," says Phoenix, smiling and kind of stupid. "Hey. Hey, there."
"Hello," says Miles, with a hint of a laugh in his voice. "Good morning."
"Yeah? You think so?"
"It's all right so far."
"That's good: don't get your hopes up."
"I would never." And Miles actually kisses him on the side of the head. Hard. Phoenix thinks he may have just emitted actual hearts.