100th STORY! YOU GUYS KNOW IM GOING TO FILL THIS BOOK TILL I RUN OUT OF ROOM AND THEN MAKE ANOTHER ONE PROBABLY! THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING!!

** Prompt: Sheets // Rome = Romulus aka Roma; Germania = Folkert **

Folkert knelt in the silence by the river, laying out his clothes to dry. The sun was pleasantly warm today and a different man might've just fallen asleep right there. But no, instead he worked, pausing only to examine the callouses on his hands. Hm, he thought. He really did work too much--

"Heyyyyy, Fol~!"

Speak of the devil. Folkert took a moment to gather his thoughts. "...what do you want, Romulus?"

"You're no fun. Honestly, Fol, I just want my clothes you oh-so-kindly washed for me." Oh gods, he wasn't--

Romulus was, in all his dangling glory. For the love of the gods, did he have no shame?! Of course not. Color flamed across Folkert's cheeks and he quickly looked back down. "You can't just walk around in the nude, Romulus--"

"That's why I'm getting my clothes!" The other man wrapped the sheet into the familiar toga. "There." He smirked. "I'm not distracting you anymore, am I?"

"W-what?!" Folkert sputtered. "You weren't in the first place!" He smacked him away and felt muscle. Oh. Okay then. "Out, you oaf. I have work to do."

"And I have men and women to do~" Romulus' eyes twinkled.

"Roma--"

"I'm going, Folkert. Gods. You're such a prude." Romulus laughed more and patted his friend's shoulder. "Keep washing my clothes, wife."

"Roma--"

"Kidding! Don't get your panties in a twist or you'll have to wash those too." This time Folkert settled with just rolling his eyes. He scrubbed the clothes harder as his friend started the long walk back to town.

One, these were his own clothes, thank you very much. Two, he wasn't a prude, he just wasn't some sort of-of harlot!

Three... He swallowed the lump in his throat (tried to, failed) but still didn't stop scrubbing. Three, Romulus was his best friend. It was wrong to like him like they. And besides, Roma was an idiot. A complete and total, and way-to-rash, scatterbrained idiot.

So he didn't like him like that. No, he was a warrior. And warriors didn't think things like that about their flirty naked best friends... As long as he kept telling himself that...