Work Text:
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Remember when we did that nut milk skit? ;)
Attachment: notanalmond.jpeg
Rhett spared a glance at the patio door of their Air BnB. Outside, Jessie was setting the boys up with a game of jumbo Jenga while he was supposed to be inside working. Working, right. That was exactly what had been not happening every time he’d sat down to write or answer work emails this week. Without fail, he’d been met with a photo or video from Link that just took a sledgehammer to his ability to concentrate. The fucking tease knew it too. Rhett had blocked off “writing time” in red on their shared calendar but every day at 8pm like clockwork, Link would send him a photo or short video under the guise of needing his approval to post to Instagram or the Mythical Society.
Each of them were indecent in tiny ways that no one else would pick up on. Link in his watermelon outfit, clothes noticeably big on him, noticeably not his own, just because he knew it stoked Rhett’s possessive streak to see Link so proudly flaunting that he was wearing his lover’s clothes. Link on the beach, starfished out and serene, like he had been on that private beach after too many mezcal sours had made them hot and reckless, trading frantic sloppy blowjobs in the brush. And of course, the video of him dancing half fucking naked, shaking his ass and keeping it just PG enough that he could pass it off as dad dancing but Rhett knew. Rhett had been on the receiving end of that dancing before, arms pinned to his thighs with a tsk and a “management says I can’t let my clients touch me”.
And now here was the latest volley in Link’s war on Rhett’s sanity. Link’s flushed face absolutely coated in his own cum, look of pure smug satisfaction framed by obscene white streaks no reasonable person would mistake for milk. Cursing under his breath, he slammed his laptop shut and bolted upstairs to grab his phone off its charger. He mashed the Facetime app with a snarl, not bothering to be concerned with the time difference between Scotland and Thailand. One ring turned into five turned into ten with no response. Link was probably already fast asleep, the little shit. Well fine, Rhett decided. There was more than one way to make his displeasure known, he thought to himself as he grabbed his kilt from the closet
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: There can only be one
Attachment: tossthiscaber.avi
[Description: The camera shakes a bit as Rhett places it on his dresser, angled in such a way that he’s only visible from the waist down. Apart from the kilt he’s naked and he sits down on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide. He rubs himself through the rough material for a bit before opening it to reveal his cock. He strokes it a few times, moans long and low and dirty before he pauses and flips the camera the middle finger.]
Facetime call from Link