Alex was sipping lightly at a venti S'mores Frappe when his music abruptly stopped playing, the sweet sound of Avril Lavigne’s lovely voice cutting off suddenly as his phone buzzed. Pulling one earbud from his left ear in confusion, Alex gazed questioningly at the device to see that a Snapchat notification was the culprit behind his interrupted jam session. Usually, the teen would’ve been irritated at the disturbance that so rudely threw off his groove, but there was always an exception, and Alex’s happened to be when this particular name popped up.
“Snap from: Dickface,” followed by a selection of heart emojis and the emoji of a monkey covering its mouth appeared across the top of the screen, bringing a smile to the brunette’s face as he gently rolled the striped straw of his drink around with his tongue and unlock the device.
Alex choked on his coffee.
The image his friend had sent him was in exact opposition to anything Alex had been expecting, not that he was complaining in the least.
The picture was of Aaron, nothing but a flimsy towel wrapped loosely around his waist and hanging dangerously low covering him as water droplets trailed town the guy’s built chest. The boy was winking and had his tongue stuck out, poking the pink thing between two fingers he held against his lips. His hair was slick with water and dripping from the limp tips as if he'd just gotten out of the shower.
However, Aaron’s hair was about the only thing that was limp if the suggestive bulge pulling at the small white towel barely clinging to the teen’s hips was anything to go by and Alex had to physically bite his fist to keep from whimpering at the sight.
Finally, after an embarrassingly long moment of blank, fuzzy, confusion Alex’s brain seemed to reboot itself and he was finally able to notice white text scrawled across the image through the haze of arousal and shock.
“Nice pic. ;) Dinner tonight?” The small letters set against the black bar customary to Snapchat read, sending a wave of confusion over Alex. Suspicion and realization slowly began to dawn upon the teen and he hurried to look at his chat history with the boy, sucking in an appalled gasp as he got a look at the “sent” notification from earlier that morning.
“Text from, Bane of My Existence: You're welcome.” Popped up as if on cue.
[Thus concludes the single shortest thing I've ever written in my life.]

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