𝘚𝘱𝘶𝘳

9.

The storage room was tight, dimly lit by the single bulb overhead, casting a shadow that made the space feel even smaller. The cramped shelves around them were barely holding their supplies, and the faint scent of coffee beans and pastries filled the air, mixing with something much more dangerous. Yeonjun could feel the thrill pulsing through his veins, a wild energy that came from both the risk and the heat between them. They only had seven minutes before someone noticed their absence, and the stakes couldn't be higher.

Soobin's pale hands gripped the wooden shelves behind him, knuckles turning white, veins standing out with each pulse. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped out, "Yeonjun..." His voice came out hoarse, desperate. "I can't stand still much longer."

Below him, Yeonjun's lips curled into a slow, languid smile as he briefly pulled away, his breath warm against Soobin's skin. He looked up, his black hair falling messily over his eyes. "This was your idea," he teased, amusement dancing in his gaze, even as Soobin's breath hitched in response.

Soobin growled in frustration, his voice low and rough. "That's not the point... the point... fuck ... is that you're torturing me." His body trembled as he fought to keep himself upright, every nerve on fire as Yeonjun returned to his task, mouth hot and teasing.

The thrill of being caught was electric, charging the air between them. Someone could walk in at any second. A customer could complain, a co-worker could wander back here, and that would be the end of Yeonjun's first job—just forty-five minutes in. But that danger only made it sweeter, more exhilarating.

Yeonjun's hands slid up Soobin's thighs, fingers pressing gently into the flesh as his eyes traced the path from Soobin's belly button to where he was most vulnerable. Soobin's pale skin, usually so flawless, would always go blotchy and red after they were done, Yeonjun knew that by heart now. He could sense how close Soobin was—his breathing becoming uneven, his body twitching in small jerks, fighting the inevitable.

This was only Yeonjun's third time giving a blow job, but if Soobin's shaky moans were anything to go by, he was doing just fine.

Then, suddenly, Soobin's groan filled the tight space, muffled as he bit down on his own hand, trying not to give them away. His other hand clutched the nape of Yeonjun's neck, fingers digging in so tightly it was almost reassuring in its intensity. Yeonjun felt him shudder, his entire body buckling under the weight of his release, his legs nearly giving out.

"I'm getting you back so fucking hard for this," Soobin panted, chest heaving as he leaned against the shelves, still trying to catch his breath.

Yeonjun chuckled, slow and smug, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he stood, his knees protesting the quick movement. "I'm looking forward to it," he replied, voice dripping with satisfaction.

With one last glance at Soobin, Yeonjun slipped out of the storage room, the door clicking shut behind him. His heart was still pounding, a satisfied grin plastered on his face as he scanned the café to make sure no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't ready to dive straight back into his shift—he'd need a few minutes to cool down, flipping through cat memes on his phone before he even thought about making another pumpkin spice latte.

But there was something undeniably thrilling about it all. This was his first job, and he was already bending the rules, testing limits. Kazzie had been right: he had the grades, the guy, and now, he was looking for the next thrill. Because if Yeonjun was anything, it was restless—and this? This was just the start.

One particular night, Yeonjun could practically taste the coffee grounds in his molars, exhaustion clinging to him like the scent of espresso lingering in the café. After wiping down the counters for what felt like the hundredth time, he chirped a quick "bye" to Agnes, untying the godforsaken apron and letting it drop from his shoulders as he finally stepped outside. Officially done for the night.