Professional Publicity Stunt » Shawn Mendes✔️

twenty-five: dress.

A/N: Enjoy ;)

Our secret moments
In a crowded room.
They've got no idea
about me and you.

We've been drinking. I didn't know if Shawn would be allowed to, but since it was a closed party, no one cared. He's Shawn Mendes, they're not going to single him out. So, we had drinks together. Probably a little more than we should have, but by some miracle we are both coherent when we reach the hotel late that night.

We walk hand-in-hand to the door of the hotel, camera flashes going off like crazy, like they have been all night – like they have been since the very first day. And we ignore them like always, like we have done since the first day.

In the elevator, his arm is around my waist, my head lays on his chest. His blazer is still around my shoulders, keeping me warm even though I told him I wasn't cold. He ignored me when I told him that. He put his jacket around my shoulders without saying a single word, without giving me anymore room to protest.

There's something different this time, when we reach our room. We go inside as normal. I move toward the door that conjoins our rooms, knowing I should try to sleep in my own bed for once. But it never works. I wonder why they give us these conjoined rooms when we always end up next to one another. But it's because we never tell anyone we end up next to one another. That's our secret – and Andrew's.

I take a deep breath as I let his jacket slide from my shoulders. I turn back around as he turns the lights down, complaining about them being too bright. I fold the jacket over my arm, showing him a soft smile.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." For a night that I was extremely worried about going into it, Shawn did what he always does, and made it one of the best nights of my life. Full of laughter and life, forgetting reality and just spending the moment with each other instead.

His eyes find mine, wide and wandering. "Me too."

"Here's your jacket," I hold it out to him when he walks toward me. He takes it from my hands with a nod, immediately turning to lay it over the back of the chair behind him.

Another deep breath. I swallow down the butterflies raging in my chest. He's so beautiful. He's always so beautiful. And he doesn't even need to try.

He licks his lips, his tongue just barely darting out and back in. I can see it in his eyes. He's barely holding himself together.

And the feeling is mutual. Being honest, the feeling has been there ever since I saw him in the suit.

I take another step closer, my feet knocking against his as I let my hands wander into his hair, running my fingers through the curls. He smiles when I do. He's always loved it when I mess with his hair, his hand moving to rest on my wrist.

"Ry..."

Say my name and everything just
s t o p s.
I don't want you
like a best friend.
Only bought this dress
so you could take it off.

I nod. I know.

He brings his lips to mine, his hand cupping my jaw. I let him take control this time. I let him step closer, as if that's even possible, but he manages to, his leg going between mine as he pulls me into him.

We pull away for air, barely registering anything anymore.

"I, um," he chuckles, his hands running down my arms slowly. "You look beautiful."

"I know. You've told me." Ten times. Probably more than that. But each time it sounds better.

"Yeah," he breathes, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. "You probably want to take a shower and get some rest," he murmurs. "So I'll stop."

"Yeah, I should," I admit, chewing on the inside of my cheek and debating because I—I don't want him to stop. And the feeling scares me. "Will you unzip me?" I ask, innocently enough. "Please?" Even if nothing comes of it, I do need help unzipping the dress.

"Yeah," he nods, so I turn around, moving my hair to one side.

All of this silence and patience,
pining in anticipation,
my hands are shaking
from holding back from you.

I feel his fingers; how hesitant they are when he traces the edges of the dress on my back. I let out a deep sigh and close my eyes, thinking maybe I've read him wrong, and maybe he's right, maybe I should just go shower and go to bed. And if I have, that's okay. I could use a shower.

He grabs the zipper and pulls it down slowly, one hand smoothing over my shoulder to hold the top in place, so he can unzip it easily. I let go of my hair, waiting because his hands are still smoothing over my back.

I feel him press a kiss to my shoulder, and then to my neck, to my cheek, and I hear him sigh in my ear.

"You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you?"

I don't know how to answer right away, so I turn around in his arms, stepping back in the place we were just moments before.

"I can't unzip it myself," is all I can figure out to say. I watch him as he smirks, his hands running up and down my arms, still unsure.

"Will you unbutton my shirt?" He pauses, teasing, and adds, "Please?"

I nearly start laughing, but instead I begin unbuttoning his shirt like he asked, trying my hardest to keep my eyes on his face and not his toned stomach – but it's difficult.

I help him shrug the shirt over his shoulders, and he lets it fall down next to us. I watch as the teasing leaves his eyes as he pulls me closer, kissing me again, harder and more eager than before, and I'm not complaining. I can never complain when it comes down to him.

Our shoes are kicked off a moment later, joining his shirt in the pile next to us. It isn't long before his hands wander to the straps of my dress, his eyes looking to me in question.

I nod. I want to. He hears me.

Only bought this dress
so you could take it off.

And I woke up just in time
now I wake up by your side.

My one and only,
my lifeline.