Stay Home ( path 2)

Aaron's eyes popped open. His breathing was rapid, as if he had just woken from a nightmare. But... it wasn't a nightmare, was it? It was a weird dream, sure, but not a nightmare. He cast his eyes around the room, refamiliarizing himself with the world and confirming that, yes, he was awake. Dirty clothes on the floor, check. Dishes he forgot to clean up from last night, oops. Bed unmade, because why go through the effort of doing that when he was just going to sleep in it?

However, on his bed, right by his feet, was a folded piece of paper. He picked it up. *Would You Rather Rules*, was written on it. He opened it up and read it.

1) Questions must be phrased in a "Would you rather X or Y".

2) Only two potentials are allowed

3) Reversal or contradictory questions may not be asked within 24 hours of the question they contradict or reverse

4) Changes are permanent unless changed again.

The young man rolled his eyes, throwing the paper aside. Yeah, whatever. Probably someone just spoke to him last night, maybe his sister, and placed that there to fool him. There's no way it would---

"Aaron Handerson!" a motherly voice yelled, followed shortly by his mother pushing open his door. Her nose crinkled at the scent of a young man's room, the sweat from the night and obvious smell of masturbation. "Your room is beginning to stink up the hallway. Clean it up, now!"

Aaron let out a groan. He still wasn't awake and being set to work? He looked over his mom, still standing glaring at him. She was in her cleaning clothes, a faded blue T-shirt and older pants. Was she painting the guest bedroom again, maybe?

"Are you listening to me?" she asked, her face contorting in more rage.

"Yes, yes, sorry." Aaron scrubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His mind returned to the paper that he just threw away. What harm was it? "Though, can I ask a question first?"

"So long as it's not a stupid one." Her tone was cold and mean. Exactly what he'd expect of the mother of the year.

"Would you rather be okay with messiness, even enjoying it, or hate me and Emily completely?"

His mother's eyes narrowed. What type of question was that? "I'd rather be okay with the messiness. I would never want to hate your sister." The implication spoke volumes, causing Aaron to flinch. Did his mother really loathe him that much?

"Do you still want me to clean my room?" he asked tentatively, fearing what her response would be.

"Do whatever you want," she waved a hand away. "I don't mind you having a messy room."

His mouth dropped. Wait, had that actually worked? He scrambled up and out of bed. "Hang on, what?"

"What?" His mother raised an eyebrow. "You know I've never cared about you having a messy room before. It's not that important, Aaron."

His mind raced with the possibilities. But it was entirely possible this was just an elaborate joke. That'd make sense. Perfect sense. He needed to test it further. "Mom, would you rather have your room be as messy as mine, or have to make sure it was immaculately clean every morning?"

His mother let out a long sigh. This boy, what was she going to do with him? "I'd rather have my room be as messy as your's. I told you, it's not that big of a deal." With that, she turned and walked back to the guest room.

The sweat and stench of young male was drifting out of Aaron's room. She could smell it deeply, but some part of her smiled. It was a good scent, enjoyable even. Knowing that messiness was there, that she could go in and know how good a parent she was being by letting him live his life, felt good. Why had she even gone in there this morning, again?

Aaron, meanwhile, left his bedroom and went a couple doors down to his mother's. Peaking inside, his eyes went wide. His mother's room was a mess! Panties, pants, shorts, shirts all littered the ground. Her bed, a nice cream color, was unmade and bunched up. He noticed a couple of glasses on her nightstand, dirty from when she must have forgotten to take them in. But, perhaps most of all, was the stench. Sex. Apparently, his mother interrupted his cum smelling room as part of the mess. It smelt of sweat and potentially pussy smell? He wasn't sure.

Still, his mind raced. The possibilities...