Desire

Part 17: red

**NOTE** This chapter DOES NOT contain smut

WC: 1958

Summary: A jealous Tamaki is an angry one and you're not doing much to help your case. Is this it for the two of you?

Includes: angst/suggestiveness

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tamaki's POV:

Tamaki tries to keep his hands from shaking as he unlocks his apartment door. It's not a big deal, he knows. But it feels... important. He doesn't want to be judged. Not that there's anything really to judge. His apartment is sleek, his style minimalist and neutral.

"Very bachelor pad", Tamaki hears you say and he glances over to see you looking at his pool table. It's stupid really, he thinks. It's only there because Izuku once said it would be good for parties and Tamaki was a pushover about it. He honestly thought it was ugly. He had, however, developed quite a knack for the game.

Tamaki doesn't know what to reply so he stays silent, watching you bend over and unclasp your shoes. He shrugs off his suit jacket, leaving himself in a vest, a crisp white button down, slacks and, of course, a blood red tie.

"Do you want a drink"? His voice is steady as he walks to the kitchen with you following. You put your purse on his kitchen island, placing your phone down next to it as you nod.

"Sure".

It's all very 'adulty' in Tamaki's opinion but he suggests a scotch because he has one lying around. Bakugo would probably yell at him for not offering you wine because 'you're a lady' but honestly you don't strike him as the wine drinking type.

As he pours your drink, he watches you walking around his apartment, still a bit worried about your opinion, but mostly just enraptured by your dress-clad form. You run a finger over the accent table behind his couch, looking at the framed picture of Tamaki and Bakugo that's propped up on it. He registers your smile and sighs inwardly. Then he sees your gaze shift towards his bedroom, the door open. His bed is, thankfully, set with a navy blue comforter and bedding. You throw a sly glance over your shoulder at him and he blushes.

"See something you like"? He attempts suave. You bite your lip and then you point at the picture you were looking at before.

"Is that the blond guy from tonight"? You take a seat at one of the barstools at Tamaki's island as he nods, mildly thrown.

"Yeah. Bakugo. He's- uh- unique". Tamaki frowns, watching you shift a bit.

"Mm yeah. I noticed", you concur, sipping your drink. If Tamaki's being honest, the both of you should probably slow down the drinking for the night before you do something stupid.

After a minute or two of idle chit chat you ask him where the bathroom is and leave with a wink and a promise to 'freshen up'. Tamaki blushes at that, trying not to watch your ass as you walk away.

He immediately feels too hot, rolling up his sleeves and running icy cold water over his hands to calm himself down. Every time he looks at his fingers he can imagine them disappearing under your dress. His pants are starting to feel tight.

Your phone pings on the counter and Tamaki sees a familiar name flash across the screen.

Kirishima.

He's instantly upset, turning his head to look at the text against his better judgment.

Kirishima: u likin' the bracelet?

The bracelet? He hears the door to the bathroom open and he quickly backs away, drying his hands on a kitchen towel as you approach. You briefly glance at your phone but Tamaki can't read your expression. Instead his eyes drift to your wrist where a dainty string of red beads is resting on your skin. He can't remember if you had been wearing it at the beginning of the night. And he's starting to find it harder to think when you come up in front of him and press him against the counter.