"Hey, have you seen my gray T-shirt I've been looking for- oh shit."

Keegan walked into your room without knocking, pausing in the doorway at the sight before him.

You were laying on your bed, in a very... interesting position under the covers, wearing nothing but a familiar gray shirt.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Why didn't you knock?" You asked, pulling the covers up to hide your actions.

"Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my shirt- wait. Is that my T-Shirt you're wearing?" He started to apologize before stopping. No wonder it looked familiar. While you protested panickedly, he smirked.

"That's definitely my shirt. Stop trying to hide under the covers. Let me just see it." He murmured lowly, a mischievous look on his face at the sight before him.

"So you are wearing my shirt."

"Yah, what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable."

Keegan chuckled, studying you. "So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs, wearing the same T-Shirt I was just wearing? I'm not dumb. I know what your doing."