We're just friends! (Wrench x Male Reader)

Chapter Two : Jack off, The FBI Agent

Once my shift was over, the spikey-faced loser himself (Who you may know as Wrench) was waiting outside - leaning on his unironically awesome Jeep, his arms crossed.

"Hey there, Boo!" He shouts, engulfing me in a hug - prompting me to shove him off.

"Ugh - Wrench, what the hell are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep his spiked face away from my squishy one.

"Why, can't your 'main squeeze' visit you everyone once and a while?"

That sentence makes me groan and hide my face in my hands in shame. He laughs at this,

"Aw babe don't be embarrassed. That picture was so fucking adorable, I wouldn't be surprised if we were put into one of those 'cutest couples of 2016' compilations." The guy rambles, opening the door of his Jeep so I can jump in. It takes everything in me to not squeal at the sheer power I feel sitting in it.

"In all honesty, I'm surprised you're being so chill about this - I mean, half of your face is on full display for the entirety of ScoutX. And I know how you feel about randos seeing that face of yours," I point out - buckling myself in because SAFETY FIRST.

"Well, yeah - that is a little annoying... and I did think about asking you to take it down... "He says, cutting himself off as he starts pulling out into the street.

"But," he then continues. "When's the next time I'm gonna be able to kiss you without, you know, you shoving me away like I'm carrying AIDS?"

"I do not shove you away like you've got AIDS," I retort - pouting at him with an offended look.

He gives me one of those 'TT' looks - I'm ashamed to say that it took me a full second to realise that I did it back at the coffee shop. We stare at each other for another few seconds before I look away awkwardly, clearing my throat like that would help me from this judgemental bastard.

"Anyways," Wrench says - breaking the silence. "I just thought you me'd do a good ol' background check on the guy we got to take that photo. You know, make sure he isn't anti-dedsec and all... "

"Wait - we got someone else to take the picture?"

"Ugh," Wrench says as he tosses his phone towards me - the picture already up. "You really were smashed last night, weren't you?" He snickers.

I roll my eyes before examining the picture. Both pairs of our hands were either holding a beer bottle (Or four in Wrench's case) or each other. In the background I could make out four other shadowed figures standing around the campfire, arms slung around each other as if they were doing a barber shop quartet. I knew immediately who they were, which made me snort.

"Oh, well that's not good."

"Indeed, it isn't."

"But I've got lunch duty today."

"Those losers can wait. If they really wanted food, they could ask Marcus. He's basically our unpaid intern - seeing as we treat him like one."

The image itself makes me lose it.

Once we'd made it to Wrench's rundown garage, I was hit with a bunch of memories. I hadn't been to the place in a while. A good two months. And even before that I'd probably not have been there a lot either. Ever since Wrench had bought the place, he's insisted on me moving in with him instead of living in the glow in the dark cave. But every time he asks, I remind him of the amount of shit we'd have to carry up those stairs and through that store of nerds. I'm pretty sure the owners of that store are already pissed off with us, I don't want to give them more of a reason to kick us out of the place by watching me carrying a desk with a mini fridge through their chess tournament.