“Aye, your trousers are killing me, too,” Wayne said with a smirk, probably overdoing the innuendo. “Um, yours.” He knew that, with space and all, and with the door being next to Justin’s bed...
...dammit, why didn’t they have adjacent beds again? Right. Oh yeah. They’d been fighting. Or not speaking. Wayne rolled his eyes at himself.
“Next time I decide to be a moron, please do me a kindness and tell me, yeah?” he asked. “Though I’ll probably regret saying that,” he added, stripping off his clothes in as few motions possible.
“Pyjamas are bollax,” he stated, jumping into Justin’s bed in his boxer-briefs and immediately stealing all the covers.