Larry glanced up from his struggle with his jeans to see his roommate grinning in at them through the open door.
“So this is what you’re doing,” Doug crowed. Then his eyes hardened and his smile disappeared. “What’s my guitar doing on the floor?”
Too late, Larry pulled his shirt down over the exposed bulge of his underwear. “We’re just talking.”
Doug glared at him. “My guitar is on the floor.”
Geoff was the first to move. “Sorry about that,” he said, scooping up the case and dropping it over the back of the seat in front of them. “There.”
“Careful! Damn it!” Doug yelled. “Do you know how much that thing costs? Fuck.”
“Sorry,” Larry said, though he hadn’t done anything to apologize for.