Himjae. PG 17.

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Where the walls and desks are the small world to which business confine men into, there isn’t color a man would notice. It’s everything between black and white, leaving less to expect and dream. Motion is limited in a long sleeved shirt, buttoned up to the top, a tie to neaten the overall of his messing raven hair because he had made a habit of running his long fingers through it every time his temples start to ache. The usual wrist ache making its way back to Himchan didn’t slow him down. Biting in a yawn, he rolled his hand this way and that, blinking his eyes away from the laptop screen. It wasn’t his intention to leave his seat when he started, but lately he’d been piling up too much sugar in his system. This wasn’t going to help, but he stood up.

His watch read eight thirty PM, and it was past time he should have left back to his apartment. Combing back the black strands of hair falling on his brows, he pulls open the door out of his cabin, breathing out a sigh. His legs were walking in automatic mode to the coffee machine, as he tried to make better use of his walking by rolling his shoulders. As he picked himself a cup to pour the coffee on, he loosened his tie a bit. He glanced expectantly at the neat packets of sugar and bit his pouting lip. At an age of 27, it’s not normal to be worrying about his health, he thought so himself, but he liked his composition and he liked to maintain it.

Himchan isn’t going to put on fat over his hardly existent abdominal muscles because his company is .

 “Coffee again.” A younger, rather melodious voice approached Himchan, and he needn’t think of who it was. It was always Youngjae, waiting to drop a comment every time his boss stepped out of his office. Himchan couldn’t help the smirk hanging in the corner of his lip as he nodded a bit, making space for Youngjae on the tables, as he fixated himself on a stirred yogurt instead. He was the only one in the company to drink strawberry flavored yogurt, which he himself left on the tiny refrigerator at the bottom.

Himchan said nothing, sipping on his coffee. It wasn’t as if he knew there must be conversation between the two of them now; but he always played safe, and kept quiet in the safe zone. True that Youngjae was good, and yes, Himchan wouldn’t deny that his hormones kicked in well for him, but it was just that and he liked where everything was heading.

“When do you plan to leave?” Himchan asked, sipping on his thick coffee. Sometimes he himself wondered why he even bothered to keep going on about his addiction towards coffee, because right now, all it tasted was like bile in his tongue. ‘Fickle, hm.’ He thought to himself. It wasn’t as if he was in denial. It was easier to accept things as they are.

“Anytime.” Youngjae chimed, a daring hand clawing into Himchans’ hip as he pretended to balance himself to reach the trash can to throw his yogurt bottle. Himchan almost hissed, and for that second, he was thankful he had caffeine inside him, somewhat knotting him still in reality. Youngjaes’ fingers never left Himchans’ hip as he quickly turned his head for a glance around (only to find the office floor lit but empty) and tugged Himchan closer.

Himchan possibly scowled, as he gazed down to meet Youngjae, a couple of inches shorter. “Anytime you want.” He added, a thumb caressing the possible nail mark he left on Himchans hip and grinned. Himchan said nothing as Youngjae dared to leave his hips only after bidding his buttocks good bye with a handful.

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MORE DRABBLES HURRAHY.

So if there are really 190 people reading why do I have zero responses? No comments no upvotes. I'm let down, loves. :(