[Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he boldly pressed his erection against the palm of Vincent's hand, deft fingers pushing the button of the other boy's jeans through its loop, yanking down the car of his zipper, and exposing him, Kit was aware of a muted ring and faint vibration in the room with them.
The sound registered as annoying at first and was promptly ignored in favor of pursuing more of the burgeoning frenzy between himself and Vincent. But as it persisted, the caller giving up and calling back again several times, each muffled ring began to sound more urgent, the shaking of the phone in his back pocket more gnawing than the rough way Vincent's hands worked his sex.
Who could possibly be calling at this hour?
...and calling that number? That wasn't the ring of his burner.
The realization hit Kit harder than the other boy's hips ever could and, almost fearfully, he yanked the offending device out of his back pocket to stare at its glowing interface. The phone buzzed again, the ring louder now that it was free of its confines, and the display showed him exactly what he'd hoped he wouldn't find. HE took the call, free hand yanking Vincent's out of his pants even as he immediately began lying about why he hadn't heard the device ring the first few times. Whomever was on the other end didn't leave him much room to speak after that, though. And it seemed everything Kit was listening to was like daggers.
After a moment there was an "I understand," and a "thank you for telling me," before Kit finally hung up. The phone was still clutched in one trembling hand as it came to rest between him and Vincent, fingers like a vice around its shape, knuckles stark white.]
no subject
The sound registered as annoying at first and was promptly ignored in favor of pursuing more of the burgeoning frenzy between himself and Vincent. But as it persisted, the caller giving up and calling back again several times, each muffled ring began to sound more urgent, the shaking of the phone in his back pocket more gnawing than the rough way Vincent's hands worked his sex.
Who could possibly be calling at this hour?
...and calling that number? That wasn't the ring of his burner.
The realization hit Kit harder than the other boy's hips ever could and, almost fearfully, he yanked the offending device out of his back pocket to stare at its glowing interface. The phone buzzed again, the ring louder now that it was free of its confines, and the display showed him exactly what he'd hoped he wouldn't find. HE took the call, free hand yanking Vincent's out of his pants even as he immediately began lying about why he hadn't heard the device ring the first few times. Whomever was on the other end didn't leave him much room to speak after that, though. And it seemed everything Kit was listening to was like daggers.
After a moment there was an "I understand," and a "thank you for telling me," before Kit finally hung up. The phone was still clutched in one trembling hand as it came to rest between him and Vincent, fingers like a vice around its shape, knuckles stark white.]