Frigid | Namgi ✓

Floor Four: You Butter My Roll

A/N: Author's deluxe warning! 

This story has almost come to an end. 

LMAO--not yet though. 

but! I must make my readers aware so they aren't

disgustingly shocked when 

the fridge lights cut off and the white machine tips over and-

OH NO, SPOILERS!

(that's not going to happen btw)

Ahhh anyway. :)

izzyzyzy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"HIYAA!!" 

Yoongi jump-kicked the bag of rolls before Namjoon's eyes. The senior had arrived a good 10 seconds before the leaf-boy had, watching him the whole time. Yoongi pretended he hadn't seen Namjoon win the race to the roll bag, instead coping with his loss through a rather upsetting ninja kick to a stale bread roll.

"I win, you lose, now let's get out of here before-"

Namjoon was cut off with a quick tackle from the sophomore. Yoongi had managed to wrap his arms around the senior's midsection, pushing him backwards into the gluten-filled bread behind him. It cushioned his fall pretty well, but Namjoon shouted out in irritation nonetheless. 

"HEY!" 

The senior tried to get out from under Yoongi, which made the other only more rambunctious in his actions. Despite being the smaller of the two, the sophomore had Namjoon pinned down against the plastic in a tight grip. Yoongi thought it was a good idea to straddle the other, to ensure he couldn't get out. 

"Y-Yoongi..." Namjoon slowly reddened as he realized what position the sophomore was in on top of him. "Let. Me. Go."

"Nah." Yoongi knew exactly what he was doing and found it quite entertaining. The senior wiggled around under him, face flushing with both irritation and surprise at the intimate act. "We're boyfriends now, so...I'm comfortable where I'm at, Joon."

"Are you kidding." Namjoon groaned, twisting his wrists desperately. 

"Nope."

Yoongi's hand lightly brushed away a strand of Namjoon's hair. One of the stickers on Namjoon's outfit was slightly peeled up, so the sophomore pressed it down again. He giggled at Namjoon's jaw, clenched in concentration as he gave up fighting.

"I take it back. I don't want to be associated with you anymore, Yoongs."

Yoongi pursed his lips as he fixed up Namjoon's outfit. The thing wasn't holding up too well--patches were scratched away, words peeling, most of the adhesive was struggling to hold on to Namjoon's body. Every time his hand would fix one sticker, another one would peel up or get stuck on his hand. The stickers weren't the only thing that Yoongi could feel under his touch, however. 

"Joon, I think your body is saying otherwise."

Namjoon, if possible, blushed even deeper, closing his eyes. A laugh raged out of Yoongi as he leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the elder's cheek.

"Hey, 's okay, Namjoon--when we're out of here we can do whatever you want, but I'd rather not risk it inside a fridge. I mean, talk about unsanitary!"

Yoongi caressed the side of Namjoon's sticker-suit. The senior bit the inside of his cheek as the leaves meshed with the sticky coverings of his costume. "Wonderful. Now before this gets out of hand--would you please get off of me?"