Rating/Warnings: Nudity. Seriously.
Summary/Everything Else: There's a draft...
"Mmm..?" the blond muttered sleepily.
Zack cleared his throat, very quietly. "You... feel a draft, Cloud?"
Having just gotten out of bed, stumbling in a desperate zig-zag to get to the bathroom, the younger boy mumbled in a nearly coherent way. "I'm too tired for your mind games, Zack."
Well, if he didn't want to guess... "You're not wearing pants, Spike."
There was a very, very long pause before Cloud carefully looked down. "Oh."
Zack was grinning from ear to ear. "Now... why aren't you wearing pants?"
The blond was suddenly very awake, pointing an accusing finger. "Because there was ketchup all over my pajama pants, Zack. And you owe me a new pair, which you still won't buy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." With that, Cloud attempted to walk away valiantly.
The other boy just stood there and watched for a moment. When the blond was out of sight, he leaned around the corner. "You get that, Reno?"
"Oh yeah." The aspiring Turk waved the video camera excitedly.
...I don't know. Don't ask me.