The sushi restaurant they meet Ross at has a higher-end contemporary look, with dark wood booths, low lighting, and long tables. Trott has undone the top button of his shirt, exposing the pale dip of his throat and the often hidden line of his collarbones. Smith wants to fit his mouth to skin, wants Trott’s hands in his hair, wants Trott to push him under the table so Smith can fit his head between his thighs.
Smith really shouldn’t be fantasizing about Trott in suits, especially when Trott’s livelihood is making them. He glares at the menu until he can get his thoughts in order. The stain on his shirt sleeve sneers back at him and he hides his hands under the table.
In essence, Ross and Trott look one thousand times better than Smith could ever hope to be.
CW: insecurity, slight embarrassment, mention of light bondage and sex, class differences, lust/fantasizing, leanings towards Suit Kink, mild sexual tension?
if I need to tag something else, let me know.