Everything is burning. My stomach, from the nervousness, my heart, from the intense throbbing against my chest, his hands, exploring my neck and waist, his mouth, overwhelming mine. Every touch is another flame; another burst of transferred energy.
It feels like this is the finale of all the awkward flirting, the boring conversations, the sleepless nights, the hungry gazes. This is what we've been waiting for. And it feels like it was suppose to happen a long time ago.
We both slow down and pull away for a second, still very close to one another.
His minty hair's a hopeless mess, disheveled every which way from my own doing. His mouth is a glossy pink, even above and below his actual lip-lines. I blush at this sight of him. When I didn't think he could get anymore beautiful. I was so wrong. This is most definitely what my 'ideal type' looks like.
I coerce a smile as I stare upon his breathless, serious, expression. He's panting a little, eyes telling me he wants more as they fixate over my lips.
"We should stop," he finally murmurs, a restrained growl in the back of his throat. But he doesn't stop his focus on my mouth. And his eyes are still dark and hungry.
"Yeah," I whisper back. He ignores this, and our conversation inevitably ends when our lips re-meet, fitting together so easily this time.
As we stand to our feet, he gently leads my body over to his desk chair. Our mouths part as he plops me down on it and he stands before me.
Oh my, is this happening...here?
I watch as his hands begin to lift the trim of his shirt up and up and up and...right back down. I look over. The door's open. And our boss has his arms crossed over his chest, his face heating with a bright red just like ours.
"Out," orders Namjoon. In other words, you're fired. The both of you.
Yoongi and I sneak glances at one another before quickly evacuating the small studio, my hand leading his.
When we get outside it's cold and rainy. Not quite pouring but not trickling either. We stop and look at each other for a moment.
"Yoongi I'm sorry." I hug him, because technically I started it. And I shouldn't have distracted him, even in the beginning-beginning. He could've had made an entire album by now if I wasn't there everyday. He could've slept better knowing that his boss was satisfied and so were his fans. But I ruined it, out of selfishness.
"I'm not," he says, refusing my apologetic hug. "What we did was incredible. I was looking for a way to get out of that job anyway." He smirks. "This was perfect. So are you."
[A/n]
Just a short one :) for the birthday girl his_red_ichor
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Fanfiction"And suddenly, all the love songs were about you..." - {1st place in BTSAIRPLANEPT2AWARDS-Solo Yoongi} - - Rina is a failed author who has a special liking toward romance novels, especially one called Peppermint. When her wealthy roommate hands her...
