"Babe, I love you, but I think we need to buy you some, um, of your own…" Andy paused and sighed. "I mean, your own, uh, pajamas?"
"Why?" she asked incredulously, lounging on the couch in his unwashed shirt and not much else, while Andy stood around in unwashed boxers and, of course, nothing else.
"I mean, Ben wants us to be adults–"
"Eww, shut up with the Ben talk," April bemoaned and shook her head. "Why don't we just, y'know, actually wash these ones…?"
"That sounds super hard."
"I bet Ben knows how to do laundry," April said, pretending and knowing full well how to turn a dial. "Besides, he's lame enough to want to do it. Probably."
"You know I think you're hot when you wear old, junky flannel. Especially when it's super dirty, and gross, and old," Andy gave her a grin all the while, noticing her shy smile at the strange compliment. April stood up, watching his eyes wander. "But, you'd probably be hot in old, junky, clean flannel."
"God, you're so romantic," she said slowly in her most serious voice, settling her arms around Andy's neck when he goes in for a kiss.