Author's Note: Okay, so, yet another completely random Chameron fic because for some reason I find them to be extremely addicting :D In an attempt to get this up faster, I didn't go through to look for errors...my bad! Hope you're slightly entertained by the randomosity! I think, on principle, unless there's a special occasion or something, all of my Chameron fics will be dedicated to Blackbirdox, because no one will understand Chameron like she does...

Disclaimer: Nothing new here...

Richard Cameron couldn't believe his eyes when he got back to his dorm room and went through his closet. His mouth was hanging open in shock as he stared at the pure emptiness of the alcove. Where are my clothes? He frantically wracked his brains, knowing he hadn't moved any of his shirts or pants, but still wondering if maybe he'd placed them somewhere, as that could be the only explanation. He quickly checked his drawers, frowning when all that was left of any articles of clothing were his Welton ties. What the hell?

How was he even going to go and find his clothes if he didn't have any to search for them to begin with? He couldn't walk around Welton in a towel, inquiring as to where his pants had wandered off. He took a deep breath, running his hand through his damp hair and beginning to pace. He glanced under the bed, raising an eyebrow when he realized that even his shoes were missing. "What the…?" How was this happening? Clothes didn't just get up and go wherever they felt like they wanted at the time. They were stationary objects that were to stay in place for the enjoyment of mankind. And Cameron really wanted his underwear back.

It was while Cameron was searching under his bed for any sign of a sweater vest or even just one sock that Charlie Dalton entered the room. With a snicker he remarked. "Gee, Dick, I didn't even have to tell you to bend over. You learn fast." With a wicked chuckle Charlie settled himself on his own bed, resting against the pillow and crossing his legs at the ankle. He slipped a cigarette out of the pocket of his Welton suit-coat and lit it, observing his ginger roommate with amused eyes before taking a small pull.

Cameron groaned at Charlie's sexual innuendo. "Are you incapable of being serious for even one minute of the day?" he asked, disgruntled when he couldn't even find a stray scarf below his bed among the dust bunnies Charlie had no doubt brushed under there to tick him off. He stood straight, stretching slightly, his eyebrows turned downward in confusion and frustration. "I just don't understand how all of my clothes could just be…gone!" It made no sense. He had no special clothing. Most of it was hand-me-downs from his older brothers that had previously attended Welton, and besides his Welton uniform he only had a few plaid shirts and khaki pants. He placed his hands on his hips, tightening the towel that was keeping him decent.

Charlie pursed his lips momentarily, watching as Cameron turned in circles, contemplating the fate of his wardrobe. He blew a few rings of smoke in the direction of his roommate, smirking. "Where's the fun in being serious?" he questioned. He saw no need to be serious about anything but getting into people's pants…or skirts. Really, it didn't matter to him as long as he got some. The concept was the same and he never involved emotions, so what was the point in choosing sides? He cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, I don't see any reason in getting dressed." He wiggled his brows when Cameron glanced over his shoulder incredulously.

Cameron's jaw had dropped and he glared over in Charlie's direction. "I have an Alumni Club meeting in fifteen minutes Charlie; clothes are not optional!"

Charlie scoffed. "I say you ditch. After all, there's no way you're going to find anything to wear and be able to get to the meeting if fifteen minutes." He took another drag from the cigarette, marveling at the fact that Cameron hadn't come to the simple conclusion that someone had taken his clothing for a specific purpose. "And no, you can't borrow anything of mine," he snapped when Cameron opened his mouth, no doubt to ask such a question.

Cameron's lips clamped shut when his not-even-asked request was so quickly shot down. He grumbled as he went back to his closet, hoping that something would magically appear. "This has got to be some sort of stupid joke. Someone got the wrong room while trying to haze some new kid," he grumbled to himself, pacing now and scratching at the back of his neck, pouting. He was beginning to feel anxious. How was he supposed to explain to Nolan that he wasn't able to make it to his extracurricular because every scrap of clothing, minus his ties, had somehow vanished? There was just nothing that sounded believable that he could come up with. Oh, it, uh…was the aliens, Mr. Nolan. They stopped by and took all my clothes before giving Charlie an anal probe. Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over so well. He sighed, glaring into the vast emptiness.

"Did it ever cross your mind that it was me, Dick?" Charlie drawled lazily from his position on the bed

Cameron froze, pausing in his pacing and slowly turning to face the fair-haired boy. "…what?"

Charlie smirked triumphantly, raising an eyebrow dauntingly. "Did you ever think that maybe I was the person that took your clothes."

"Uh, no…why would you do that? You've got all the same things as I do," Cameron pointed out, a look of utter confusion crossing his face as he pointed at Charlie in derision.

Charlie stood up from the bed, stomping out his cigarette on the wood-paneled flooring, and made his way over to Cameron's closet, removing a tie and placing it around Cameron's neck, smirking as he looped it around perfectly. Charlie had always been good with putting ties on…and taking them off. He pushed Cameron down on the bed. "Oh, I don't want your clothes," he replied. "I just want you without clothes."

Author's Note: The end. Yay for dominant Charlie!