Socially Awkward

Chapter Three

 CW: Contains Smut

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Wriothesley is in the middle of chucking one of Sigewinne's infamous protein milkshakes into the trash when his phone dings.

[LesBAEin] >> Hey moron—check out your favorite Kameragram account

He blinks, thumb hovering over the screen. Clorinde sent him a text message. Clorinde never sends him text messages. The one time she did was when she had the flu about six years back, and she was convinced she was dying.

"My favorite Kameragram account?" he murmurs, face twisting in confusion. "What does she—"

And then it clicks. Wriothesley's mouth rounds into a small 'o'. LeviathanJudicator. Right. That. Clorinde told him she was going to stalk his account. He gives his phone screen a narrowed, suspicious look when another message comes through.

[LesBAEin] >> damn those collarbones

He cannot click into the Kameragram app quickly enough. He's already saved LeviathanJudicator's last... ten... pictures. To look at. To appreciate. Definitely not to jerk off to. This is a Kameragram story slated to stay posted for a full day. The theming is the same; a slick, crisply cut navy suit, perfectly tailored. A starched collar—

Undone. Smooth, pale skin on display, a sharp clavicle disappearing behind the button placket.

Wriothesley's mouth goes dry as he stares. His cock—he doesn't think about his cock. He's standing in the corner of the gym, in full sight of everyone else and the last fucking he needs is to pop a random boner. Damn those collarbones indeed.

Gods, it's—

And then Wriothesley notices. The caption at the bottom of the picture, settled right next to the subtle bulge in the man's trousers. Your turn.

Wriothesley swallows.

He took the bait. The man took the bait. Wriothesley didn't think he'd—he never imagined that he would actually—

"Could you at least hide that monster behind your gym bag or something?"

Clorinde. It wouldn't be the first fucking time she's seen him compromised but no amount of years shared between them can make it any less embarrassing. Wriothesley looks down, which makes her snicker, and he heaves a long sigh when he sees that nothing is so readily apparent.

"That was just cruel."

"As cruel as making me think about it?"

Wriothesley raises a brow. "You were the one who decided to—what was it you said? Stake him out?"

Clorinde sniffs in mock annoyance before stepping to stand beside him. "I won't apologize for worrying over your stupid ass. You're a moron and you're prone to doing moronic things. Is that one of Sigewinne's shakes?"

"It's all yours," he says, handing her the shaker cup. "Also, I'm only a little bit of a moron—"

"A little bit is still a bit."

"—the point is that there's still a smart part somewhere in there." Clorinde snorts and Wriothesley tries not to be too offended. "Oh, shut it. You have no right to say shit when you drink that crap."

Clorinde salutes him with the bottle and takes a massive swig of the milkshake. Not even a grimace. "She knows what's good for bulking."

"Because that's what you need, surely," is Wriothesley's dry reply. "I'm fine with... well. This tea and—"