It’s early, when he says it. The sun hasn’t even considered rising for the day; the clock on the hotel nightstand shows 04:48 in the morning.

He holds up the slightly wrinkled brown button up that had, until moments ago, been haphazardly placed on the tv stand last night while its owner dug around in his backpack looking for a foil pack.

“You’re taking my shirt?”

“Mmhmm. I have an outfit planned it’ll look good with.”

Still in bed, Tom’s incredulous. “What about my potential outfits?”

Ben redresses himself in yesterday’s clothes strewn across the floor. “You literally have another button up just like it.” He points to the blue bit of fabric poking out of the bag.

“They’re nothing alike; They’re completely different colors!” He is, of course, only joking. Ben stretches out a lazy smile.

“You’re so right and I’m sorry. They are very different. I’m still taking it though. Telling you is only a courtesy.”

Tom shakes his head. “Am I gonna get it back?” He’s bemused, as he rises and stretches and starts to dress for the day.

“Depends on if you and Sam can beat us to the finish line.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then it’s my trophy.” Ben says it to be cool, but regardless of game outcome, he knows he’d fold if Tom actually asked for it back. Tom seems to know it too, but he gleefully plays along.

“I suppose we’ll simply have to beat you, then.”

“If you’re not too tired, that is.”

With a chortle, Tom crosses the room to him. He’s taller, though not by much. It’s not often that happens to him; he soaks it in while he can.

“Sleeping with me was a strategy then, was it?”

Ben grins, cocky but still timid and slightly flushed. “No. I just really wanted to. You being tired after is a useful bonus.”

“Hmm. Good answer.” Tom laughs. He had assumed it was a little more thoughtful than just pregame handsiness, given it wasn’t the first time, jokingly or not, that Ben had made the offer over the course of their time as friends. But in this job you never can tell.

Ben stares up at him expectantly at the proximity. Tom’s confused for only a moment, given their hurry, before he rolls his eyes and huffs performatively, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

“Thank you, Tom.” He’s almost too proud of himself.

“Go get changed, Benjamin. I know they’re are already waiting on us.”

“We’re not late.”

“Not yet, but we will be. Off you go.” Tom all but shoves him out. Fond fond fond, as he repacks his backpack and finishes preparing himself for a very very full day of filming.