I am so hurt over this, I’m sorry, goodbye world. No, definitely not inspired by BODY /sobs/

Warnings: Suggestive content

(Mino x Reader, 980 words, fluff)

Ecstatic Shock — n. the surge of energy upon catching a glance from someone you like—a thrill that starts in your stomach, arcs up through your lungs and flashes into a spontaneous smile—which scrambles your ungrounded circuits and tempts you to chase that feeling with a kite and a key. (c)

 “—so maybe after that?”

Minho has totally missed whatever it is that Seungyoon just said, blinking away his own thoughts before nodding a little too quick.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He says slowly, having no clue to what he’s agreeing to. Seungyoon narrows his eyes, a frown waving on his face and Minho should’ve known that Seungyoon would know. He just does.

“What the hell is up with you today? Loosen up, Minho. It’s a party.” Seungyoon throws a soft punch to his shoulder, opting to leave the prying for later and Minho’s a little relieved.

Minho eyes Seungyoon from over his cup of beer as he gulps the thing absently, lifting his brows in feigned agreement.

It wasn’t like him to be so out of it, keeping to himself rather than chatting up the crowd as he usually would. Nodding once in a while to anyone that greeted him, struggling to pretend that he was the bit least interested in small talk when he really wasn’t.

Frankly, the only thing he’s interested in for the past hour or so is the door. It’s been disappointing so far, having to see the wrong person enter the place and he’s close to leaving any minute now, seeing how he won’t be seeing you tonight.

He gives up keeping guard of the entrance, chucking the empty red cup into a bin nearby as he finally decides to take his exit.

The click of the door that comes next didn’t really faze him, silently thanking whoever it is for doing the job for him so he could slip out easily without a sound. Minho didn’t really need any more curious eyes on his back after being so out of character the entire night. He peels his focus off the ground, looking ahead and feels his heart soar to his throat.

Three days since he last saw or even heard from you and he’s long past expecting you here to not be so affected. He retreats without thinking, sliding behind a group of people before you could catch him staring like a fool.

Minho hides a smile, pursing his dry lips to a tight line when the sound of your laughter drifts around the vicinity as someone by the door pulls you in for a welcoming hug. It’s shameless of him, but he couldn’t help himself to observe you at a distance, the first thing that pops into his head— isn’t it still a bit warm for a turtleneck?

Only to have his pulse pick up when he realizes that you’re probably hiding the aftermath of mauve passion he’d left blossoming under the skin of your neck in distorted forms of his own mouth.

You sweep off the hair off your shoulders as you converse, the one his fingers had the privilege to run through three days ago, framing your flushed face in waves when you collapsed onto rumpled sheets and him, hovering over you, lost for words at the sight he was graced with.

, you’re beautiful.

Rolling his tongue inside his cheek when his gaze drops down to your legs, in a pair of skinny jeans you know he takes a liking to. Minho didn’t need to wonder, or imagine. Not anymore. He knows exactly how they look without a single stitch, clasped around his waist and memorizing have always been his specialty but the honey feel of skin on skin, yours and his, was almost too easy like it was meant to be.

Immersed in a conversation, you chuckle once more, running a finger over your bottom lip, the same way he did before they met his, the same one that simmered his skin in such heavenly bliss. It’s driving him insane to stay planted from where he is, not to march over and take you in his arms.

Minho didn’t seem as discreet as he tried to be, the dormant fire in his veins alight when you catch him staring so blatantly. A shy smile crawls over your lips before you look away, and he’s completely smitten, his legs having a mind of its own as he trails over to where you’re at. You’re out through the door, and somehow he takes it as an invitation, following you out like a lovesick puppy into the deserted hallway.

“You’re leaving already?” He half shouts, voice deep in desperation but Minho didn’t care, always so sure of what he wants, especially you.

“Weren’t you?”

Minho stops, his heart racing furiously when you spin around, firing back the question in an amused tone. He did, he was prepared to leave before you walked through that door and he’s all sorts of entertained knowing that you’re aware of this.

“Not anymore.” Minho shoots you a boyish smile, and you’re shaking your head, fighting back a laugh.

“I don’t appreciate the staring, by the way.” You arch a brow his way and he’s clamping his teeth over a bigger smile, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck.

“It’s hard to not to.” He shrugs coolly, swearing that he’s seeing sparks fly when you close in, just an arm’s length away. You scoff out a laugh and he’s done for when you mouth, you’re so lame.

Minho pins you quickly to the wall, your arms snaking around his neck automatically and he melts.

“I think about it all the time.”

“You —”

He grabs your wrist when you shove his chest, a playful scowl scribbled over your face before he cuts you off short.

“No. I mean,” You scan his face waiting for his answer, curious eyes that he never minded, “I think about us all the time, you and me.”

Your expression stays a collected, like you saw it coming and he’s a little worried that he might have said the wrong thing, then you let out a smile, content.

“Me too.”

//