a/n: Sometimes as a writing exercise, my friends and I do writing challenges/exercises. This was the result of one of those.

Prompt Exercise: 500 words (the goal; you can go above or below), 20 minutes. No editing.

Prompt: "I'm going to pretend that didn't happen and go back home now."

Word Count: 474


"Hey, do you think-" He cut off, blinking.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Okay." He said, averting his eyes.

"It's just-"

"No, no I should have-"

"-I wasn't expecting-"

"-knocked, I mean the door was-"

"-I really thought you'd be home later, you know?"

"-closed." He finished, still staring at the ceiling. He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks down the back of his neck.

"It's for art class."

"Art class." Now he dropped his gaze, voice flat.

"Art class, I swear."

"Right. Look. You don't have to-" He frowned, shaking his head. "I don't really need an explanation, you know?" Art class, as if. He couldn't help letting his gaze revert back to his roommate, standing half-naked beside his bed his hands on a professor, smearing her in green paint.

'I wanna smear green paint on you and spank you like a disobedient avocado.' The words - a two AM phone conversation overheard several weeks ago - sprang unbidden in his mind.

The professor hadn't said anything, hadn't even moved. "I'll just leave you two..."

His roommate lifted his hands off the professor and she... tilted over, still on all fours.

He blinked. Was that? "Did you make a dummy of Professor Carthens?"

"No?"

"Right. Well." He took two steps back, over the threshold. "Carry on, then." Art class. God, he needed a new roommate. "Put a sock on the door next time, yeah?"

"It's for art-"

"Yeah," he waved a hand and blindly reached for the door. "Use a sock anyway."

It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on his roommate having a wank; it happened, sometimes you thought you were alone when you weren't, but.

This.

This.

Nope.

The best way to proceed was to pretend it hadn't happened. As far as he was concerned he had not walked in on his roommate doing something very weird with a replica of a professor and green paint.

Later...

The paint was gone, and his roommate was wearing clothes as he sat at the breakfast bar munching on some toast. "About earlier..." he trailed off, eyeing him.

He turned his attention to his toast. "Earlier?"

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"What happened earlier?"

"Well, you know, when you came in and-"

"As far as I'm concerned, absolutely nothing happened earlier. I went in and asked if you'd be able to give me a ride to work tomorrow. You said yes, and I walked out. Didn't see anything. Didn't hear anything, and that was the only conversation we had."

There was a long pause where he finished his toast and his roommate looked torn between confusion and relief. "Okay," he said finally.

Relieved, he stood, taking his paper plate to the trash. "I'm going to the grocery store. Want anything?"

"Do you think you could pick up some avocados?"