You make a deal with your ex-coworker, Kim Namjoon, where you give him pleasure, for money. But the relationship that was meant for pleasure, and pleasure alone, soon turns into much more as you find yourself falling for him...
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• BTS RM AU.
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The boxes filled with your supplies seemed to be no problem for Namjoon. He was was carrying them with not even a muscle in his body tensing as he lifted them into your car's trunk for you. And no, you didn't just let him carry both of the boxes himself. You had offered to help carry the boxes, at least one, but he blatantly refused your offer, shrugging it off as his nice gesture for the day.
And to which you weren't going to contend, as that just meant that you didn't have to do anything but that stand there whilst Namjoon did all of the work. Plus, there was only two medium sized boxes of items, it wasn't like he was gonna break his arms trying to do this for you.
Though he sure sounded like he was as he set the second box into the trunk of your car, groaning heavily.
"You could've helped, you know?" He asked, voice breathy, dramatized to emphasize his sarcasm.
Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, a smile playing on your lips. He grinned.
"But seriously, Ms. Lee," he said, brushing his dusty hands off on his pants, sighing. "We decided on coffee to discuss your job options over, right?"
Oh?
Yeah. Hell yeah.
Coffee with him sounded great. You had nothing to do for the rest of the day. Not that you really needed coffee, though, as you had already had three cups this morning - you were planning on working an 18-hour shift today. Obviously, that went down a shit hole - but you could always go for more.
"I mean, yeah, sure," you shrugged as you pulled your trunk hood closed and leaned back against your car. "Only if you're paying, though."
He grinned over at you, raising his eyebrows with just the same amount of playfulness you had shown him only moments earlier as dimples scarred his cheeks. "Alright."
• • •
Hands cuffed around his paper coffee cup, tapping rhythmically against it in contemplation, his dark eyes were on you, watching the way that you reacted to his favorite drink.
He had talked you into getting it by telling you that it was the only drink he'd buy for you. And that was the only valid way to get you to order it, despite not being too big a fan of anything but just plain coffee on any other day.
As expected, the drink wasn't your favorite, as it wasn't just your regular, reliable coffee with nothing but sugar and creamer, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been.
It was sweet. Too much so for your fancy. But still not the worst. You definitely wouldn't order it again if offered, but you weren't going to waste it, as it was still coffee; the only thing keeping you awake and thriving at this point in your life other than cupped ramen and shitty Netflix romances.
