Work Text:
Neuvillette stares at Wriothesley’s phone.
His thumb hovers over the screen, and gods, curiosity rolls through him. He hesitates, though. Neuvillette has free access to his phone at any given time, knows all of Wriothesley’s pass codes, and such, and permission to look whenever he wants, but…
Wriothesley deserves privacy. Neuvillette should not look further than what he’s already seen.
It burns a hole in his palm, though. The weight of Wriothesley’s phone seems unbearable as he stares at that screen. Why does he still have the Romaritime app downloaded? Wriothesley wouldn’t have much time to do something untoward, but it’s there. He never deleted it.
His thumb shakes as Neuvillette drags the home screen away. He’d meant to find a picture that Wriothesley took and send it to himself. Neuvillette will stick to that, clicking into the photo album app instead.
Still, anxiety wracks his being. His gut is hollow, a little ill. Wriothesley would never. That, Neuvillette is fairly confident in, but… it cannot be overlooked. Forgotten. Ignored. Even though Neuvillette trusts his partner more than his own life, he’s overseen too many trials that involve jealous and spurned lovers, where a doting husband turned on his beloved and—
There is no use in letting this rule over his thoughts. He doesn’t want his gut to be a dark pit of despair. Neuvillette pulls his hand across his face with a sigh as he sets Wriothesley's phone down. “Later,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll talk to him later.”
Wriothesley will listen without question, without concern. He will assuage whatever fears Neuvillette has, and then pull him close for sweet kisses to soothe his aching worry. Neuvillette knows this.
But Neuvillette chickens out in the end.
#
“Sweetheart.” Wriothesley’s arms snake around Neuvillette’s waist, and he rests his chin against his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
A week has passed. Neuvillette does not worry about what he found on Wriothesley’s phone in the traditional sense, but it does linger in the back of his mind.
"Nothing," he replies.
"Nothing?" Wriothesley hums before pressing further. "Neuvillette, you're making stir-fry. I like stir-fry, but you do not. You tolerate eating it when I order it, but you are making it."
Neuvillette's gaze drops to the vegetables currently sizzling away in a pan. There’s chicken on the cutting board to the side, chopped into haphazard bits. He is not a good cook. He used too little oil, and the veggies are burning slightly. "I..."
"Something's on your mind. You can tell me." Wriothesley reaches around him, finds the burner, and switches it off.
Neuvillette sags slightly, setting aside the wooden spoon in his hand. He turns around in Wriothesley's arms and leans against the counter. Words are hard. His tongue feels thick in his mouth.
"Your phone..."
Wriothesley raises an eyebrow. "My phone?"
"It..." Neuvillette clears his throat and dives in. "You never deleted the Romaritime app. And this isn't to say that I think that you are using it, or that I have a concern of you cheating. Wriothesley, I would even say that I would understand if you just enjoy looking at others. Not to mention that the app can be used for friendship, as well. I've seen advertisements and whispers of genuine, platonic connection. If—"
"Sweetheart."
“—you were wanting additional companionship, I would understand, but I would encourage you to talk to me about it. Truth be told, I enjoy Clorinde as much as you, but she’s tight around the edges right now, and with her trying to work things out with Miss Navia, I understand if you are hesitant to bother her. However—”
“Neuvillette.” Wriothesley seems confused, if amused. “There’s no need for an opening statement.” His hands rest against the counter on either side of Neuvillette, boxing him in. “Also, what’s this about the app? What do you mean it's still on my phone?”
Neuvillette blinks. “I… I mean, when I opened your phone, the app was still there?”
Wriothesley absorbs this information, his lips parting. “I—uh… Okay, so bear with me here—you know how I’m bad with tech? I haven’t opened that app since before we even met, so it’s just been sitting there. But…” Wriothesley pulls at his face. “So, I’ve deleted the little icon on the home page live five times, but it’s still on my list, and sometimes it just pops back up on the main thing because phones are weird, and I barely know how they work. Eventually, I just left it there.”
Oh. Oh. Neuvillette feels foolish. And Wriothesley must see the way his face twists.
“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to…” Wriothesley hands move to rest against Neuvillette’s waist. “I didn’t think about telling you, but I should’ve, but it didn’t even cross my mind. I haven’t used that damn thing in nearly two years. I haven’t needed to, so I didn’t think one bit about it—”
Neuvillette makes a soft, embarrassed sound. “No, beloved, this is entirely on me.”
“It makes sense, though. Gods, Neuvillette, I’m—”
Wriothesley stops when Neuvillette lifts his hands to cradle his face. “I never thought you’d actually… Wriothesley, it may have made me anxious, but I never once thought you would actually use it in that way.”
“I would never.” Wriothesley presses their foreheads together, chuckling softly. “That’s why I didn’t even think about it, sweetheart. I couldn’t fathom entertaining another person when I have you.”
It is amazing how quickly Neuvillette’s fears are soothed; how Wriothesley’s gentle touch immediately brings him back to the earth, and grounds him. Those worries seem fleeting now. Neuvillette lifts his face, knocking their noses together. “Beloved, you make a compelling argument.”
Wriothesley laughs. “You’re going to make me pay for using the courtroom jargon, aren’t you?”
“Yes, always.”
A moment passes between them, comfortable. Neuvillette still cradles Wriothesley’s face between his hands, tracing the ridge of his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Over his laugh lines, the crows feet around his eyes, down over the swell of his lips.
Wriothesley kisses the pad of his thumb. “I love you. I’ve never loved another person, only you.”
Those words warm Neuvillette’s chest. Wriothesley has shared this before, of course, but the thought of it, the trust Neuvillette is afforded… worrying over such a thing seems rather silly to him now.
Neuvillette kisses him, just a soft, gentle press of their lips. Wriothesley hums against his lips and lets the touch linger before deepening it, licking into his mouth. This is a needier thing, but still chaste. Wriothesley’s hands don’t linger, they remain tight around his hips, pinning him to the counter, and he kisses him with long and lazy intent.
“A thought,” says Neuvillette when they part to breath. “You could have asked Clorinde for help.”
Wriothesley groans. “I’d never hear the end of it. It’d be bad enough to admit that I have no idea how to uninstall the damn thing, but letting her know it’s my booty call app?” A pause. “Uh. Was.”
“I can see why that would be embarrassing.”
“That’s… sweetheart.”
“We could ask Navia—”
“That’s worse. She’s worse. Clorinde will make fun of me, but Navia will drag my ass—”
Neuvillette kisses him again, swallowing those words, his tongue, his taste. “The app is of no worry,” he murmurs against Wriothesley’s mouth. “It never was. It shouldn’t have been. Please just let me kiss you and forget.”
Wriothesley pets through Neuvillette’s hair, brushing back his bangs. Calls him by his first name, his given name, and Sovereigns above, if that doesn’t make heat churn in his gut, and his knees weak. “You don’t need to ask, baby. In fact, it might be the best course of action to soothe my wounded spirit in the wake of your worry.”
He is not wounded. Wriothesley smiles at him and says this with a laugh, and every worry that Neuvillette has melts right away the moment their lips touch again.