Bedroom Warfare - Rack (boyxboy)

| ten |

Andy chuckled, "and that's definitely not your shirt."

Jack looked down at his shirt. Shit. Rye looked at his and glanced at Jack. Shit.

"Shit..." Jack mumbled. That was when the two of them realised they were wearing each other's shirts (and no pants).

---

Jack felt his face flush bright red, his whole body suddenly feeling like he was on fire. He was half tempted to run out of the room, but they'd figure it out anyway.

Rye froze. He stared at Andy, not knowing what to do, whether to jump in and say something or leave it to Jack.

No one said anything until Andy spoke again, glancing at Rye, "wait-"

He knows, the two boys thought.

Jack looked at him, hoping they'd get out of this alive.

"That's Rye's shirt," Andy raised a brow and looked at Rye, "you're wearing each other's fucking shirts!"

Though Andy and Brooklyn seemed to find it funny, Rye and Jack looked around the room, trying to figure out an excuse. Their eyes darted from Andy to Brooklyn to each other (and scanned each other for hickies - thankfully none were visible).

"Why have you got each other's clothes on?" Brooklyn giggled.

"Only the shirt," Jack mumbled, not wanting to answer the question.

"But that's all you're wearing, are you sure they're your--," Andy laughed, glancing at his boxers with a teasing grin.

"I can assure you, they're his own boxers," Rye cut in, "or at least not mine."

"Sorry, Duff," Andy said in a sarcastic tone, referencing the shirt he was wearing.
(the Duff beer one)

"Oh, shut up," Rye scoffed.

---

Rye and Jack thought they'd gotten away with it. No one had mentioned it for a while; Mikey came in and, though he noticed and gave them both a look, didn't say anything.

The topic came up again when Jack put a hoodie on.

"Covering your new shirt up?" Andy teased.

"You're hilarious, Andy," he said sarcastically.

Mikey looked down to hide his smirk, he couldn't help but find it funny. He'd told them countless times that this wouldn't end well, that they'd get caught or they'd slip up. He'd tried to warn them, and even the night before, he warned them - before everyone showed up to the party - that he wasn't going to cover for them if something happened.

"Nothing is gonna happen," Rye had insisted.

"What would we do? It's not like we're gonna be makin' out in front of everyone," Jack added.

"I'm not saying something will happen, but if it does, I'm not covering for you guys," he'd explained, though he'd had a feeling something would happen. He'd seen them both drunk before and they were both the type of people to not care what anyone saw.

Jack kicked Mikey under the table as Andy laughed, "why- how did you even swap shirts? Is there something you're not telling us?"

"Like what?" Rye scoffed, "me and him?!"

"It'd make sense," Andy smirked.

"Or we were drunk and swapped shirts somehow," Rye frowned.

Andy just smirked and they all knew what he was thinking. He was right. Though Rye and Jack vowed never to let him know that.

"We-" Rye went to speak again, but Andy cut him off with a gasp.

"Wait!" his eyes widened.

"What now?" Jack rolled his eyes.

Andy slowly changed his mind, deciding not to mention that he remembered letting Rye and Jack out into the garden the night before, then saw them return with a slight lack of clothing, "nothing.."

Mikey looked at Jack and Rye and rolled his eyes, I hate these guys, "Brook, come help me with this thing."

And with that, Andy was left in the kitchen with Rye and Jack, "you did, didn't you?"

Jack stared at Rye. Rye bit his lip and took a deep breath, "what we're you gonna say?"

"You went outside together last night, after Jack fell over, and then you were outside for like, ten minutes and came back in with no shirts on," Andy said, raising a brow at the memory. How hadn't he realised that something was going on last night? These two claimed that they hated each other, but they had been oddly close now that Andy thought about it.

"Fuck," Rye mumbled under his breath, looking at Jack.

"You did, didn't you? Did you?" he questioned, then paused and added, "you better not have messed my fucking room up."

Jack raised a brow, he hadn't even thought of that. Andy was a tidy person and they hadn't even made the bed, but they were still denying the whole thing had even happened, so he couldn't admit that they hadn't made the bed - or that both their pants were somewhere in there.

"I'll go and uh- un-mess it up," Rye said and headed to the door.

"Wait-" Jack pulled him back and glared at him, mumbling so Andy couldn't hear, "you can't go. What do I say?"

"I don't know," he whispered, "you slept in the bath?"

"Ryan, he's not that stupid."

"He's not that deaf, either," Andy interrupted, glaring at the two of them, "I swear to god-"

Jack looked sheepishly at Andy, who shook his head. Rye looked at the floor. No one knew what to say. Andy huffed and brushed past the two of them.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Rye questioned, following him.

Jack followed them when he didn't answer, and Andy went upstairs and straight to his room.

It wasn't too bad. The bed was messy and there were three shoes scattered over the floor. Andy made the bed, finding a pair of pants in the covers, "you two are fucking washing those sheets," and gathered their shoes together, "why's there only three shoes? Where's your other shoe?"

Rye shrugged, "i'm not gonna lie, Andy, I don't remember taking them off."

Andy rolled his eyes and threw Rye's remaining shoe at him, then then handed Jack his. "You're not getting it back," Andy said, then looked at Jack, "or your pants."

Andy stormed downstairs and Jack looked at Rye, "what just happened?"

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Not edited but hey what's new