a/n: I already did #51 (”where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come”) for Dowoon, but I wanted to do it for Brian as well. This one takes a slightly different turn. Thank you to the anon that requested!
Consciousness washed over you in low tides. Exhaling deeply, the familiar surrounding of Brian’s room swirled into focus. You shifted, shuffling closer to the warmth that was your boyfriend. He seemed to be rousing too, because he started to shift, letting his hand lazily stoke your stomach as he pushed his face closer to your neck and nuzzled between groans.
It was raining outside, it pattered against the windows and slid down the glass like ribbons. The curtains were ajar, leaving a small gap where the sun would be pouring in if the sky wasn’t filled with grey tones and mist.
Remembering it was Sunday, you related into the mattress; today was one of Brian’s rare days off, which meant neither of you had any commitment to anything. No music video shoots, no recording sessions… nothing. Usually you’d hear the clattering of the other members crashing the kitchen to try and make coffee at this hour, but it seemed no one was particularly eager to be rising at this hour. For this you were thankful. The quietness eased you, you could almost go back to sleep if you wanted to.
Brian seemed to have woken up a little more now, because his lips were forming small butterfly kisses against the crook of your neck. You smiled, leaning into it. He muttered a very groggy, “morning,” into your soft skin between his fluttery trail.
If the kisses weren’t enough to make your head spin, then his morning voice definitely was. It was always moments like these that you wish would never finish, responsibility always seemed much less appealing when compared to moments like these.
“Good morning,” you respond tiredly, although the tiredness was soon draining away stop you found yourself becoming more awake with every kiss, touch and grunt. His leg slid over yours, and his lips started to trace your jawline before mapping out your lips.
He didn’t remain on your lips for a long time. A mere few seconds before he started his way back down your neck and placing special attention to your collar bones, which were the last amount of available skin before the shirt covered the rest.
“Where are you going?” you asked him, trying to refrain the sudden want from your voice.
“Where am I going?” He smirked, voice deep in a way he knew you liked it, “crazy. Wanna come?”
It was when he started playing with the hem of your shirt that you said, “yes,” and the rest was history…
