𝔽𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 ℍ𝕚𝕣𝕖, Beomjun

008

"Will you stop!" Beomgyu tugs his arm to break free from Yeonjun's grasp. Keeping up with him when he walks so fast is hard, Beomgyu feels like he's going to miss a step at any moment and fall flat on his ass. "Why did you drag me out here?!"

Beomgyu looks around the desolate are in frustration, hands open by his side gesturing to his surroundings. His sudden change in behaviour irritates Beomgyu, especially when he's pulled outside, into the cold, with no explanation.

He has to collect his thoughts before he full-on screams at Yeonjun, breathing deeply.

"Huh? Oh? I was acting jealous so this whole show would be more convincing." Yeonjun spins around on his feet, turning to face him with a confused pout on his lips. "Would you expect your actual boyfriend not to get jealous if he knew your attention was on someone else?"

Yeonjun leans in closer to Beomgyu, cupping his cold hands around the younger's warm face and tilting his head up so their eyes meet.

His stare flickers to a strand of Beomgyu's hair that falls in front of his eyes, gently brushing it away from his face with his thumb. He looks at Beomgyu again with a soft smile that grows into a coy smirk.

It's so easy to get a reaction from Beomgyu and it's quickly becoming one of Yeonjunms favourite things. Heat radiates on his cheeks, staining them a cute blush colour. Beomgyu can't help it, he isn't used to the attention and so it affects him in a way it shouldn't.

This is what he gets for isolating himself from people with only spreadsheets, data, and a screen filled with fresh ideas for company.

"Pretending," Beomgyu scoffs, swatting away Yeonjun's hand.

Yeonjun's arms drop to his side. He doesn't say a word, smirking despite Beomgyu's agitation.

"It was almost like you were really jealous. My wrist hurts from where you were holding it." He pouts through a frown, corners of his lips curled down miserably. He rubs his wrist where there's small red bands showing Yeonjun's firm grip.

"Sorry, darling. I didn't mean to." He frowns, carefully grabbing Beomgyu's wrist and bringing it up to his lips.

"Wait- -What are you doing?" Yeonjun's boss asks him, a hint of fear in his deep voice.

Yeonjun doesn't answer, pressing his lips against the inside of Beomgyu's wrist gently, over and over again, moving further along the redness on his wrist each time. Beomgyu's eyes round in shock but he can't pull himself away, watching his fake boyfriend wordlessly. Frozen in place.

The eye contact is what has his stomach mixing up cake batter. And he's flustered, warm in the face. Yeonjun kisses him so shamelessly, having the audacity to grin at what Beomgyu assumes is the dust of rouge on his cheeks.

He's so over blushing, surely by now he's exceeded the annual limit for how much someone can blush and it's all because of this playboy, Yeonjun.

Yeonjun's curious what other reactions he can draw out from Beomgyu, flicking his tongue out as he gently sucks the sore skin.

The reaction is better than he expected, almost sending a shiver down his spine at the sound of Beomgyu's deep yet weak groan. The way he bites his lip to stop and looks Yeonjun dead in the eyes tells him he needs to give it up-because If if doesn't, Yeonjun might not be able to control himself.

He'd seek out more and more reactions from Beomgyu if he keeps going, especially because of how cute Beomgyu looks trying to hold back.

Beomgyu furrows his eyebrows, a pouty frown gracing his lips. Utter disbelief is the word that summarises Beomgyu's feelings when it comes to an end.