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    Summary

    Scott slides his hand under the table. He pulls his phone from his pocket, shielding the screen with his palm. It’s risky. It’s stupid. There are cameras everywhere, lenses long enough to capture the pores on his nose, let alone the screen of his phone.

    He unlocks it anyway.

    The photo loads instantly.

    The breath leaves Scott’s lungs in a silent rush. The background is familiar—it’s his own living room in Manhattan. The orange of his favorite Admirals hoodie is unmistakable, swallowing the frame. But the hoodie is pulled up, bunching around a pale, taut stomach.

    Or:
    A smutty Scott x Kip songfic no one asked for.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,239
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    12
    Kudos:
    111
    Bookmarks:
    17
    Hits:
    1,491