*is just starting to wig out over the prospect of settling down on your bed (your bed, alskdljf) when the rap on the door sets the hair on the back of his neck standing on end (don't tell me your homicidal father is home?)*
*finds himself deposited inside your closet, though, which is just obvious and cliché enough to be hilarious* *bites his tongue savagely to keep in the giggles, occupying himself with inspecting his surroundings while he waits* *clothes, shoes, shoes, shoes, more clothes, unidentifiable girl-things... all in all, confusing and a little scary*
*hears talk of pizza and flushes bright red as his stomach gurgles its interest (oh god was that really as loud as it sounded? is he about to be marched out at gunpoint?)*