Bitty was toweling off his hair
when he heard his phone buzz. Resigned to the fact that the Georgia humidity
was going to ruin any careful sculpting he wanted to do, Bitty huffed a sigh
and went to check his phone.
J-Z: Thank you for the cookies, Bittle.
Bitty grinned at the text. He
paused before typing, wondering if he shouldn’t cover himself up before
responding to Jack. He gnawed his lip for a minute and smiled. Well, if he got
a little thrill out of texting his crush in the buff – that was between him and
the lord, no reason for Jack Zimmermann to worry his pretty little head over
Me: Anytime, honey.
Bitty sighed and flopped on his
bed, phone resting on his chest. Lord, just thinking about that boy made him
feel flushed. He gave a little yelp when the phone buzzed again, sending a
tingle through his body.
J-Z: What are you up to?
“This boy,” Bitty said to Señor Bun,
who offered Bitty a sympathetic look.
Me: Nothing much. Just working out and eating more protein!
“Lord, he puts a
period after everything,” Bitty showed the text to Bun.
am! I’ve been doing the chest press variations you showed me, I think it’s made
a big difference.
“Yeah?” Bitty looked at Bun. “What the hell does yeah mean?”
It sounded kind of like
flirting, but one never knew with Jack. He could just want Bitty’s new chest
measurements to mark off on some sort of Team Workout Progress chart he made in his
flirting, Jack isn’t programmed to flirt…right?”
Bun didn’t seem
to have a lot of thoughts on the subject. Bitty looked at the text one more
time and screwed up his mouth. Well, Jack wanted to know about his progress,
maybe Bitty should show him. Just because Jack was a hockey robot didn’t mean
Bitty couldn’t have a little harmless fun flirting.
“He’ll probably just
think it’s informative, right?”
Before Bun could talk him out of it, Bitty
hopped up. Running a hand through his hair, Bitty held out the camera, made his
signature selfie face, framed the shot to show off his chest and abs, and flexed his
heart was hammering, so he took one second to check his face in the picture and
then immediately sent it to Jack.
Bitty sat his phone down and shivered, the AC finally
driving him to put some clothes on. When he was decent, he checked his phone –
no new messages.
Not even a haha for his efforts? That
was disappointing. On a whim, he checked the conversation – maybe Jack had
responded and his phone had just failed to notify him? Bitty looked at the
texts, nothing since he sent the picture.
What was that in the background?
Bitty pulled up
the pic and promptly dropped his phone.
His mirror. The
full-length mirror that Moomaw had given to him on his 14th
birthday. Bitty hadn’t even noticed it behind him. Sadly the camera had,
offering the viewer a full-length view of Bitty’s completely naked backside.
“Oh God,” Bitty whispered,
wrapping Bun in a panicked hug. “I just sexted Jack Zimmermann.”
can you write a litlte something in your teacher kent AU?
“Harris, ninety seven,” Cassie said.
Kent scrolled on his computer, and typed in the score. Sitting back, he sighed, putting one arm behind his head. “You know, Cass.”
“I put a lot of trust and faith in a person who screamed, ‘This is my jam!’ when Nickleback came on the radio.”
“Oh my god, Professor Parson,” she sneered, “like your taste is any better. You made me listen to Britney for an hour last week because you were feeling sad. Britney. As in Spears.”
“What? How dare…Do you even…She’s an icon,” Kent said amidst Cass’ protest. “A queen. A goddess. You will not blaspheme in my office. She’s a beautiful butterfly who got the short end of the stick and deserves to be treated like the literal princess she is, and if anyone besmirches her name in my presence again…”
“Is he talk about Britney again?” came a voice from the doorway.
Kent spun in his chair, a wide grin across his face. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought your plane didn’t get in until eleven?”
“Team stay for lunch, I’m catch private flight.”
Kent turned his face up, and a second later a massive hand cupped his cheek, and he was kissed until they both heard gagging sounds.
“Oh my god, I’m not even being paid for this, and no A is worth watching my teacher make out with his boyfriend.” Kent heard the stack of papers gathered up and tucked into a bag. “I’ll email you the rest of the scores.”
“You’re also a goddess, Cass.”
“My grade had better reflect that,” she chirped, then shut the door on her way out.
Kent smiled. “Lock the door?” He felt Alexei pull away, and heard the distinct sound of the lock clicking and the blinds closing. “God, I still have forty-five minutes of office hours left,” he groaned as Alexei returned, going down to his knees to be Kent-height.
“We make best of it. I’m hang sock on the door.”
Kent snorted against the pressing kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Please tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” Alexei said, and combed his fingers through Kent’s hair. “Think about it. Think maybe you get fired, then come be trophy husband. Put you on shelf, next to Stanley Cup.”
“You gotta win it first, babe.”
“Will win,” Alexei said, nibbling at Kent’s throat. “For you. Put you in cup, take picture.”
“Then you’re gonna propose?” Kent asked, and felt a little breathless because he realised right then he kind of meant it…and if Alexei asked, he’d say yes.
He could feel the curve of Alexei’s smile against the crook of his neck where he was kissing, and the hot breath as Alexei sighed. “Then I’m propose.”