And suddenly the sheets were gone. Because the one thing he needed to make this surreal morning just that much more awkward was for Chris to take the only thing covering him up and leave him stark naked. Fantastic, as Claude would say. Grumbling about annoying whitelighters, he used a flick of his hand to telekinetically grab a pair of boxer-briefs from his dresser and bring them to his hand. Not even looking at Chris, he pulled them on before doing the same with his jeans from the flor.
"Good morning to you too," he said sarcastically, walking over to his closet and pulling on a shirt. "I'm guessing the dress is yours."