"Look who's finally home." A familiar voice said when I opened the door to my room. "And he's been shopping!"
"Define shopping." I said to Liam with a smirk, carrying the two bags in my hand over to the edge of the bed that Liam had himself sprawled out on in nothing but his boxers with my laptop on his lap - presumably watching something as close to porn as he could find on Netflix.
Liam cleared his throat after hitting a few keys into the laptop and then spoke again. "Shopping: noun, the purchasing of goods-"
"Okay, smart ass. I get it. You've mastered the arts of Google." I interrupted with a roll of my eyes, stretching my arms upwards and throwing myself onto the bed beside my best friend. "What are you watching?" I asked curiously.
"What's in the bags?" Liam said, avoiding my question with a question.
I groaned, leaning forward and pulling one of the cloudy white carriers up onto my lap, pulling out one of the neat card boxes. "Knock yourself out."
Liam eyed it suspiciously, reaching over to open it. Struggling to undo the ribbon with his large fingers, but eventually managing to pull it off. "Holy shit." He said.
"The holiest of shits." I added.
"Are these all cake?!" Liam asked, throwing the laptop to his right side so he could slip off the bed and onto the floor to explore the rest of the carriers.
"No." I answered him, closing the box back up that contained four vanilla frosted cupcakes with way too many decorations on them. But they still looked pretty. "There's also pies, brownies, pastries - basically, a promised heart attack.."
"What the hell are you doing with all this?" Liam asked - his barrage of questions not at all catching me off guard. I'd been gone for a day and a half and I return with a diabetic's worst nightmare, of course he was gonna be curious.
"I guess you could call it work." I answered finally, pulling the white t-shirt off over my head and placing it onto my lap, determined to put it in the laundry basket and not just throw it in.
"What do you m-... Wait." Liam said, looking at the unfamiliar shirt in my lap, then coming across my dirty laundry at the bottom of the second bag - something I hoped he wouldn't come across - then making his own assumption in his head. "Holy dicks. You said you didn't fuck him!"
"I didn't fu-"
"Niall Horan, you sugar baby! You slept with a guy just so he'd buy you food and clothes?" Liam barked, looking at me concerned. I just shot him back an unamused stare. Then his glare turned into a playful sob and he was wiping fake tears from his eyes. "I've never been so proud..."
"Ha-ha." I said sarcastically, slipping off the bed with the shirt in my hand. "The complete opposite, actually."
"How so?" He quizzed me curiously, his mouth a mess of frosting and filled with half a cupcake.
"I didn't fuck him." I said, clearing the most important - yet disappointing - part up first. "My clothes were all creased and he wanted to show me his work, so he let me borrow some clothes. Is that such a crime?"
"And then..." Liam paused. "And then you fucked him at work and demanded desserts as payment?"
I let out a long sigh, dropping the shirt into the basket. "That's what happened, yeah."
"Seriously?"
"No, you idiot. We worked some hours and he forced me to bring home all this stuff that has to be eaten before tomorrow morning." I told him, rubbing my tired eyes. It must be around nine by now. "And, you know, I thought you'd appreciate it."
