Socially Awkward

Chapter Four

CW: Contains Smut

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Neuvillette did not answer the direct message.

Navia laughs at him the next day when he tells her this. It's too early in the morning for her to wear such a smug look, to hide a grin behind the palm of her hand. She has the decency at least to clear her throat and pour him a glass of water. Still. Neuvillette knows that look, just as he knows she'll eventually say something.

"So—"

"Navia, I do not want to hear it."

"Hear what?" She clicks her tongue before shoving a pastry into her mouth. "For the record," she says around it, words slightly muffled, "I wasn't going to make fun of you."

"You'll have to forgive me for not believing you," replies Neuvillette dryly. "As of late, I find myself often at the end of your quips."

Navia rolls her eyes. "I was going to say to just go and get the guy."

Neuvillette would like to agree with her, but there is one very specific, glaring issue with such a suggestion. "Miss Navia," he says, finally taking hold of the water she's poured for him, "it will not happen. I will fumble it. I will do everything incorrectly, thereby making a mess of it."

She blinks very slowly. Sighs softly, shoves a second pastry into her mouth, and takes far too long to chew it. "Neuvillette," she finally says—and oh, that's a terrible tone. Yes, it's before work, but Navia calling him by name instead of title is never a good sign. "Only you could have a man dangling himself in front of you, and you'd think you'd fuck it up."

"Language."

"No, listen to me. This man—" Navia's hand darts across the table to slap at Neuvillette's phone. "—isn't just putting himself out there, he's literally begging to dick you down."

"Miss Navia—"

"And you're sitting here, bemoaning your existence, and your age, or any other excuse you manage to talk yourself into instead of just opening your eyes and looking at the damn messages. Neuvillette, he's mentioned you on stream, he wore nearly nothing on camera because he was that desperate to see a sliver of collarbone from you, and you're going to sit there and tell me that it—this—won't happen?"

Navia lets out an aggrieved sigh, dragging a hand down her face. "Do we need to reenact that scene from A Clockwork Blue where the dude gets his eyelids peeled back, forced to watch—"

"I think that I get the point, Miss Navia," cuts in Neuvillette with a cringe. No, that doesn't need to happen, nor does he want the mental image of it.

"Let me see." Navia holds out her hand in a silent bid for his phone, and Neuvillette drops it against her palm, knowing that she won't take no for an answer. She knows his phone code and unlocks it easily. Not even thirty seconds into scrolling through his Kameragram app, she's already loosing a whistling breath. "Gods, you're so—Neuvillette, this man is so gone for you."

"I... well, that is to say..."

"This is his personal account. He called you sweetheart."

So he did. Neuvillette pulls at his collar nervously and looks everywhere but Navia's face.

Her expression softens. "Ah, I see." When Navia smiles this time, it isn't a mocking thing, but rather soft and genuine. "That's what you're afraid of. That it'll work out."

Yes. No. Maybe. Neuvillette pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes fluttering shut as he tries to think of an appropriate answer. "Navia, I have not dated properly in decades. Literally. I... am not just out of my depth, I am entirely beyond it. Not that I want to date this man. But the attention is... nice. And I find myself wanting to entertain it for a while. But, yes, I worry that it may turn into more than that, and if it does—"