“Admit it already: you like me.”

Jiyong runs his fingertips along Seungri’s forearm. It sends a ripple of sparks through his body that travels straight to his heart but Seungri presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shoves the sensation down his throat. He turns away slightly, folding his arms and tipping his chin up defiantly.

“No,” he denies.

See, the problem is that Seungri is an egoist. He isn’t going to be the first one to confess, no way. If Jiyong wants to hear it so badly, he can be the one to.

“You don’t or you won’t admit it?” One side of Jiyong’s mouth is crooked into a cocky grin and Seungri bubbles with equal parts irritation and attraction.

He takes a step back. “Both.”

He knows that it’s a trap. Jiyong is weaving a game that Seungri can’t win.

Jiyong takes a step forward.

“If you don’t like me, then why do you–”

He leans forward to catch his jaw with his hand and capture his lips, which has Seungri automatically closing his eyes and kissing back easily.

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