You really hadn't expected this. Your luck to be so fucking bad.
It was late morning when you woke up. You had silently and openly cursed Asami, and tried convincing yourself that yes indeed, you needed another apartment. Running out the door a mouth full of bread with half worn shirt and a relaxed Asami in tow hadn't helped the time. Already late for the shoot - you needed to hurry, and you really desperately wished that time would stop right fucking then.
And then this happened. Today out of any. goddamn. day. The elevator got stuck.
You look at your watch through its broken glass. And the sight doesn't please you.
Oh shit.
"Can't you, uh, talk to the manager? Something? Anything?"
"It'll be..." Asami checks his watch (like he even needs to, the pretentious bastard) "twenty more minutes until he comes." You stomach drops and you wish you could fling Asami's posh smoke out of his damn mouth. He leans back, staring right back at you.
The staring contest drills facts into your mind - just give up. And you do, you lean back like him and sigh. You're trying very hard to find the ropes of your positivity; and you find it very, very hard.
You jump as you feel a feather-touch at the back of your neck. Widening your eyes, you look at the only occupant.
Maybe its accidental: you think, and settle down. And oh, oh there it is again. Another touch to the back of your jeans, right down under where your ass meets your thigh. An involuntary shiver raises gooseflesh on you. For someone who attempted to stare you into submission for accusing him of making you late; you're sure you wouldn't want to let him get off of this.
Oh. Oh... There's that hand again.
"—Okay! That one was definitely intentional. Knock it off!"
Before you can do anything, his hands have already reached the back of your neck.
His murmur traces sparks straight up and between your thighs:
"You assumed the others were accidental?"
He's still palming your neck, circling the area with those warm hands. You're nerves calm, finding your earlier outburst rather like a ruffled cat's. And you're sure there's a smirk on his lips and he's thinking the same.
God bless this bastard.