"Jules," Jon said, cursing himself a moment later, but it was too late.
The barista scrawled it on the first cup with a black marker and a little heart dotting the 'J'. Jon watched it happen and said nothing. Just a day prior, Jon had been a straight-A student in his senior year of high school. He could recite the periodic table backwards, had aced every AP exam the school offered, and kept a mental catalogue of historical footnotes that made his teachers either impressed or mildly concerned. Now he was a busty intern in a too-tight silk blouse standing at a coffee counter trying to remember if a cortado had milk in it.
He waited near the pickup station, arms crossed beneath his chest — which only served to push the two heavy mounds upward against the straining silk, a fact he realised three seconds too late when a man in joggers and a beanie openly stared. Jon dropped his arms, face burning, and shifted his weight from one heel to the other. The balls of his feet ached in a way that was becoming background noise.
The barista called out "Jules!" and slid a cardboard carrier across the counter. Six drinks, somehow all upright. Jon grabbed it with both hands, the warm cardboard pressing against his stomach, and turned toward the door. The carrier was heavier than expected. His wrists, thinner and weaker than Jon's had been, trembled under the weight.
When he stepped into the elevator at his workplace, he encountered the next problem. He tapped the badge against the reader and pressed the top floor. Nothing happened. He tried again, balancing the drinks carrier precariously. Nothing.
A man ran into the elevator as the doors closed. His eyes ran up and down Jon's body, making him shiver. "You gotta use the other reader," he said, pointing at a label that read "Use other Reader" plus an arrow. Jon wanted to facepalm but instead he just blushed cutely and shifted the drinks carrier, causing his nipples, hard from the cold outside to jiggle against his thin silk blouse.
"Thank you," He said meekly.
The man grinned as the elevator reached his floor. "You'll figure it out miss." He stepped out but not before slapping him on the rear. Before Jon could protest the doors were already closing and he was pressing his thighs together in an attempt to suppress the feeling between his legs.
