"Michael!"
Thomas' feet thundered across the landing, almost crashing into a door before throwing it open with force. His breath was heavy as his eyes skimmed across the bedroom. There were plush toys scattered around, sure, but what he was looking for wasn't there. He turned and yelled into the empty-enough hallway.
"Michael! Where the fuck are you?"
He suddenly jolted as a hand grabbed his collar, pulling him closer to the culprit so his mouth could be covered by a hand. A feminine hand, with thin, long fingers, and the slight taste of chocolate.
"Did you just lick me?" Chris let go of Thomas completely, pushing him away and wiping his hand on his trousers. As Thomas replied with a smirk, Chris continued. "Michael isn't here, so stop yelling."
"Mike isn't here?" Thomas groaned and Chris grimaced in response.
"No. He went camping."
"Camping? When the fuck was he interested in camping?"
Chris shook his head lightly and stated, "Scouts," before turning to return to his room.
He was stopped by Thomas' voice. "Hang on, I'm really bored."
With a sigh, the taller male turned on his heels to stare down at his brother, the added height of his platform shoes making him just that much more intimidating. "I'm not going to entertain you."

It turned out that Chris ended up entertaining Thomas. The thought of spending time with the other boy was ridiculous and out of the question at first, in which the two of them awkwardly sat in silence as they watched a movie.
"Token black guy," Thomas would comment, "obligatory romance where one of them tragically dies."
It was from these comments that Chris and Thomas formulated the DVD Bingo, which they both played feverishly. It was after five movies passed and Chris won four times in a row did Thomas decide that the game was over, and that Chris' prize was a punch in the arm. Naturally, Chris hit him back, and it soon turned into a scrap on the sofa, resulting in Chris near-enough screaming, "don't touch my hair, you prick".

On the return of Michael and his father, the house was suspiciously clean. The landing and the living room were near-enough perfect. But as Michael stepped into the kitchen, he felt something very wrong. The kitchen was his area. He never let anyone into the kitchen for nothing more than a snack. And when he entered and found Chris and Thomas caught off-guard with food in their hands, on their faces, in their hair, on their clothes – Michael screamed.

As the two of them were grounded to the sofa, Chris and Thomas decided to themselves that spending time with the other might not have been too bad. But hanging out with his older brother would have made Thomas lame. Being exposed to his brother for too long would make Chris lose his credibility. But later, as they crossed each other in the hallway by the bedrooms, they decided to do it again. Next month, though – any sooner would be too much fun.