Socially Awkward

Chapter Five

Contains Smut

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Neuvillette wakes up the next morning to a dick pic.

He immediately shuts off his phone, pulling at his face. It happens from time to time, and it's usually a quick matter of speedy deletion. Not everyone on Kameragram has polite intentions, and he is never in the mood to see someone's genitals, unrequested. But this is...

Neuvillette unlocks his phone and takes a peek, his face bright red. That is The Duke—Wriothesley's—cock, unmistakable as it rests against his palm. Hard and long. Precome beads at the tip. Wriothesley must be in bed, judging by the sheets he lounges in.

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> morning, sweetheart. woke up thinking about you. can't remember the last time i've been this hot and bothered

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> you get special treatment from now on

Neuvillette takes a moment to... look. Appreciate. Grinds his hand against his own half-hard cock that stirs at the sight. Last night they—they—

He is embarrassed again, shutting off the phone with a groan.

But then he pauses.

It would be the polite thing to reply, right? He and Navia have had not one, but several extensive conversations about this by now. Neuvillette worried about being left on read, about leaving another in a similar state, and besides, last night...

Well, they've certainly crossed a line, haven't they? Neuvillette's cock twitches, which, as Wriothesley had just said, is a rare occurrence. He doesn't typically wake up aching in such a way, or to aesthetically pleasing captures of a man's perfect cock.

Because it is. Perfect. Neuvillette wonders what it'd feel like—

He does not think about that, tossing the thought out before it has a chance to take root. He has work today, he has to get to the office. Then Neuvillette remembers that he's been forced onto an impromptu vacation by his sweet, dastardly Miss Navia.

Right. That. Neuvillette drags a hand down his face. Rest is more than palatable; he can't remember the last time he truly took some time for himself, but the cold embarrassment of losing a bet floods his being.

He didn't just lose it, either. Navia had booked his time off the moment they made the bargain. She's a clever thing and sees more than most, and she must've seen Wriothesley's intentions and understood Neuvillette's need to be... pampered.

Last night, Wriothesley said he wanted to do that—pamper him. Neuvillette cannot believe that he fucked his hand to the sight of him, for Wriothesley, but he also can't believe that Wriothesley wanted to clean him off, to tuck him into the sheets afterward, and be the—surprisingly—little spoon. And the big spoon.

"All the spoons, sweetheart," he'd said. "I just want to hold you."

Neuvillette cues up Kameragram again, resolve filling his chest. "It's my day off," he tells himself. "I'm allowed to enjoy this, to indulge. Wriothesley has given me a gift."

The gift of a dick pic, yes, but it's strangely charming all things considered. Neuvillette downloads the picture for... personal reasons. A reminder, he tells himself, of a momentous occasion. It'll be okay to look at later. Just a peek, a—

Wriothesley would probably like it if he jerked off to it.

[LeviathanJudicator] >> What is the cost for this?

A tease. Wriothesley will know it is, but anxiety tugs at Neuvillette's being nonetheless as he sits in bed, waiting for an answer. He pulls at the comforter. Has... he made a mistake? Misread the moment? Perhaps Wriothesley won't appreciate the joke. It's been a long time since he last flirted with another person, but in his youth, he'd been told that he came off awkward, stiff, and even a little condescending. Unintentional, absolutely, but there is a stoicism that surrounds Neuvillette that cannot be reined in—