The Outsiders: Tally

XL

Tim realizes that some of his T-shirts are missing. Come to find out, a certain blond is the culprit.

-

"Curly!"

"What?!"

"Did you take my Elvis shirt?"

"No. Why would I take one of your stupid shirts?"
    Tim rolled his eyes as he anxiously shuffled through the few shirts he had in his closet, trying to find it.

    Recently, Tim's closet has been growing more and more bare. It's not because he hasn't been doing laundry. Frankly, he hates doing it, but he has two other people he has to take care of while his parents are who-knows-where. It's not because he's an unorganized slob. Curly embodies that trait.

    So where the hell are they? Tim grunted angrily as he slammed his closet doors shut. Curly made a sudden appearance in his doorway, giving him a weird look. "No need to slam the doors. Have you tried looking up your ass?" Curly said snarkily. "Shut up. Where the hell could they be?" Tim said, crossing his arms. "Maybe someone's stealin' 'em?" Curly shrugged, fixing his hair in Tim's small circular mirror. "Who would want to steal shirts in this neighborhood? Fucking no one." Tim dismissed Curly's theory quickly, throwing on a plain white tee. "Well I don't know then. I'm heading out," Curly said, leaving Tim's room. Tim tucked his shirt into his pants before leaving as well, planning on visiting Dallas.

-

    Dallas was in his house, deciding that today was a lazy day.

    Lying in his bed, he immediately sat up when he heard the door of his house open. I swear, if that's my old fucking man, Dallas thought, gritting his teeth. Just the thought of him made him sick. The man just reeks of alcohol and cigarettes, his violent attitude more gross than that disgusting mixture of scents. He hasn't been in the house for a while now and Dallas was thankful that was the case. He remained still as footsteps grew closer and closer to his room. He shut his eyes and braced himself for his father's unholy presence. However, when the person entered his room, he was greeted with the smell of cologne and hair grease. He opened one eye and was pleasantly surprised.

"Hey babe."

"Hi."

    Tim smiled and sat next to Dallas' head on the bed, kicking off his shoes. "What's going on?" he said, his fingers already combing through Dallas' hair. Dallas purred as Tim dragged his fingertips against his scalp, closing his eyes softly. "Nothing much. Being lazy," the blond said. "Yeah?" Tim whispered. He looked down Dallas' body, his eyes growing wide. His Elvis T-shirt. Dallas was wearing his prized Elvis T-shirt.

"Dallas?"

"Hmm?"

"I... Is that my shirt?"

    Dallas completely sat up and looked down at the shirt he was wearing. "Oh yeah," he said. "Why do you have it?" Tim said. "Uh... I don't know. I liked it," the blond said nonchalantly.

"Dal... you can't just take my shirt."

"Well then, don't leave your window open."
"Dallas."

"Look. It's just a shirt, man. It's not like I took money or anything."

"But it's my shirt."

    Then, Tim attempted to grab at his shirt. Dallas swiftly backed away from him, laughing. "C'mon Dal," Tim whined. "Come and get it, Tim," Dallas said, jumping off the bed. Tim looked at him, trying to keep a straight face. His shirt enveloped Dallas' entire body, making him look...