"Here," Marshall Lee mumbles, tossing his favorite plaid shirt into Finn's face.

"You're..giving me this? Like, to keep?" Finn asks, holding up Marshall's shirt in front of himself and gazing longingly at it.

Marshall laughs, strumming the strings on his bass and floating upside down in front of Finn. "It's your birthday, right? My gift to you. Happy birthday, Finny," he coos, reaching out with one hand to pinch Finn's cheek. As he does this, a hue of red paints itself across Finn's cheeks before Marshall lets go. He fights the urge to comment a dirty remark as Finn opens his mouth to speak.

"I'll wear it as pajamas for the rest of my life," Finn says slightly nervously, hugging the shirt close to his chest and smiling.

Marshall's lips curl into a smirk as he floats around the room and plays his bass. "You're adorable," he chirps. "Remind me why we can't be a couple again."

"Well," Finn starts, "because Jake would murder both of us in our sleep, or at least you."

Marshall chuckles. "C'mon, dude—that guy's a total softie. No denying it."

Finn rolls his eyes and removes his hat, letting all his shiny golden locks fall into place before also pulling his shirt off in favor of wearing his new shirt.

Marshall can't help but stare as Finn pulls his shirt off over his head, and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. He doesn't realize he's drooling until something hard hits him in the face, reeling his head backwards.

"Don't look, you perv!" Finn shouts, slipping his hat back on.

"We're both guys here; what's there to hide?" Marshall questions, floating toward his favorite blonde.

Finn blushes and picks his shirt up, stuffing it back into his backpack before climbing the ladder that leads to the first floor. "There's plenty to hide from a pervert like you," he states as he plops down on the new couch, which is as soft as a baby's butt. "Man, dude. Your new couch is soft as butts!"

Marshall laughs as he floats downstairs. "What if there's a butt out there that isn't soft? Like a butt made of wood or rock?"

Finn turns the TV on and narrows his eyes as he watches. "You have a point," he says after a moment.

Marshall wiggles his eyebrows. "I bet your butt is soft~."

Before Finn can finish his sentence of, "Dude, wha—", Marshall floats over and turns him on his stomach, grabbing one of his buttcheeks.

"Yep~!" Marshall chirps before Finn and his flustered face can catch up to him. "Your buttcheeks are softer than a baby's~."

"H-hey! Who said you could touch my butt?!"

"I did. Now, get out," the Vampire King orders, picking the human up by his collar and floating him to the door, then throwing him out. Literally. His backpack landing in his face, Finn stands up and shrugs it on. He turns around and starts walking before a thought crosses his mind.

"Hey, wait! What about my shirt?"

"Bye~!" Marshall slams the door in his face before he can come back in. That shirt is his, since he gave up his favorite button-up for that dork.