Almost a tradition, you and Aaron spent every Saturday night playing games at his house. Ever since you were both kids.

Things were different now as teenagers, sure, and some people at school thought you were both dating. But you weren't, and never were going to.

Walking in with a pizza box in his hand, Aaron has a smug smile on his lips. Usually one that meant he was up to something.

"Hey, let's make a bet." He says, plopping down onto the couch and grabbing his controller. "For every game we play, the loser has to take a piece of clothing off."

This caught you by surprise. It's not like it'd matter anyway, right? It's not like you found Aaron hot, or vice versa.