“Goddammit, Yixing!” Kris whispered furiously to himself as he slumped over. What the hell is wrong with him?

It was only their fourth date and Yixing had invited him over to his apartment, proposing he wanted Kris to try his cooking. Now, sitting here on the toilet, Kris found himself in a predicament. He was out of toilet paper.

He dismally clawed at the cardboard skeleton that used to hold the precious item he needed. Who doesn’t put more toilet paper in the bathroom when it’s gone? He dropped his head into his hands, elbows digging into his knees. He could feel his cheeks flare with heat; he couldn’t call for Yixing, it would surely demolish any hopes for future dates.

Desperately glancing around the room for any substitute, he saw a dirty towel nestled into the corner of the door. It was white, though! He couldn’t use that without Yixing taking notice. Using his fingers was simply out of the question! Maybe he could take off a sock and use that. Yixing wouldn’t be suspicious if he stated stepping in water as an excuse. His feet did need a bit of grooming but it seemed far less detrimental than his other option.

As he bent over to slip his sock off his foot, he hears a small knock on the door. “Kris,” oh god Yixing, “I just remembered that the bathroom was out of toilet paper. I’m going to leave a roll outside the door, okay?”

His heart thumped.

“O-okay.”

End.

Don't forget to restock the toilet paper!