doctor, doctor give me the news

Leon, who had been quietly eating beside you, paused for the briefest second as he processed your words. His expression remained unreadable, betraying none of his thoughts, and not thinking much of what you just called him, he simply reached for the salt shaker and slid it across the table without looking up. "Here."

"Thanks, bro." You intentionally put weight, on the word 'bro' trying to gouge out his reaction.

His jaw tightened for a moment, as he finally realized what you just called him, and he gritted his teeth before stabbing the food that remained lifeless in front of him, and as soon as he does it you almost felt bad for it.

Though you'd won— at least in your own mind, because God knew he hated what you called him. He'd never admit it out loud, but you knew because after all you could see it in the every twitch of his muscle whenever you called him that.

Then you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

Honestly, this whole ridiculous thing had started as nothing more than an experiment. If you had to give it a name, it'd be Operation: Crack Your Boyfriend. (Pun absolutely intended.) It wouldn't become that kind of operation until much, much later, when you would, indeed, crack your boyfriend— but for now, your objective was far simpler: to see just how long it would take before you finally broke his composure.

The truth is Leon could be so unbelievably aloof sometimes— calm, composed, almost impossible to fluster that you had decided to take the matter in your own hands and spend the entire day calling your boyfriend bro just to see when he'd finally lose it.

And apparently... you little plan has somehow worked.

...

After that things were quiet, or maybe you were, but a few hours later, you wandered into the living room where Leon sat on the couch with his laptop balanced on his thighs, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Bro," you chirped, smirking while you stepped closer to where he was seated, "You look good today."

The rapid click-clack of the keys stopped, instantly, then he looked up at you, "Stop calling me that," he huffed, finally stabbing another key a little harder than necessary.

You blinked innocently, at him, and stick your tongue out at him, "Bro, why?"

"So that's how it's gonna be", he muttered under his breath, then before you could give a sarcastic reply to him, he closed the laptop with one decisive snap, and threw it aside on the couch, before standing up and stepping closer to you, "now tell me who am i?"

You instinctively took one very confident step backward. "Bro?" You mused, as you gazed into his ocean blue orbs.

"Hmm." He says slowly stepping towards you.

You took another step back.

He took one forward.

"Leon..." you breathed, thickly swallowing whatever , emotions that were building inside your gut.

"No no. I am your bro, right?" he repeated flatly, as he strutted his way, towards you, swaying his hips, with every step of his.

then another step, another one, until your back gently bumped against the hallway wall, with a quiet thud.

"Holy mother of— he had cornered your ass and yet instead of fear, all you felt was an undeniable thrill, your pulse quickening as something entirely different coiled low in your gut, and your core throbbed with the— need of him.

Slowly he planted one hand beside your head, trapping you with effortless ease, and the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "So..." he murmured. "bro, right?"

Your heart quickened with every syllable that slipped past his lips, and you savored the unfamiliar feeling blooming inside you, and a strange ache stirred in your chest, threatening to spill from your lips in the form of a kiss, but you swallowed it down, holding yourself back. Instead, you looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. "Mhm."

Then he leaned down brushing his nose against yours and you feel his warm mint breath, tickling your skin, "so your boyfriend just got bro—zoned?"

"Seems like it." You closed your eyes briefly and force those words out, trying to sound composed — but you knew you were anything but that.

He hummed thoughtfully, making no move to pull you closer or close the distance between you and him with a kiss. "That's a shame," he murmured.

"Why?" you mused, lifting your gaze to meet his, and what you found wasn't annoyance at all, but his desperately whiny expression hovering over yours, and God... the ache it spread through your chest was almost unbearable, and all you wanted in that moment was to pull him beneath your ribs, let him make a home there, and have him fall asleep to the lullaby of your heartbeat.

"Because if i was your boyfriend I would've kissed you." He crooned.

"But I meant it romantically though." You argue, feeling greedy for the kiss, while your cheeks turned pink and warm beneath his gaze, as he kept your frame pinned right there.

"You think that makes it better?" he murmured, tilting his head ever so slightly then he leaned in, his lips hovering mere inches from yours.

Fuck. every instinct inside your body: screamed at you to close the distance and kiss him yourself, but this— this whole drolling game the two of you had somehow found yourselves playing, kept you stubbornly rooted where you stood, and you hear him chuckle lightly as you desperately try to feel him against you, then he continue, "You've got one more chance, before I show you what I can do, when I actually lose my patience."

You grinned, sneakily and feel his words shoot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, "so, what actually are you gonna do, bro?"

Here you go, you said it again, testing his patience, testing what he could do.

"Alright then," he muses, and without another word he leans down, again, while his other hand presses softly past your stomach to your lower belly, sliding lower, lower, and you suck in a breath— you want him right there.

darn it. he knew how to play dirty.

He just made a quiet sound as you squirmed beneath him, and soon with a groan he slides his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, his palm coming to settle just above your underwear, he could feel your wetness through your cotton fabric, but he doesn't push his fingers inside. Instead he lets his fingers rest right there, drumming against your slit, and you shudder against him, feeling your breath tremble.

"Tease," you breathed under your breath, so softly you doubted he'd caught it. The word escaped anyway, slipping from your tongue with the effortless grace of a skater gliding across an ice rink.

"Leon—" you start again, as he presses his fingers inside, from just above your underwear, but he doesn't wait for you to finish your sentence, instead he kisses you, gently, a little short, but just long enough to steal every single breath your lungs were holding "If I was your boyfriend," he murmurs against your mouth, "I would have done more than this."

Then he pulled away, completely withdrawing his hand from your underpants, and leaving nothing but the lingering warmth of his touch behind. You could only stare at him, your cheeks burning, lips slightly parted as you try to form a reply, but it seems every word, seemed to abandoned your tongue, right at this moment.

Jeez. It backfired quickly. You thought.

"Please, Leon." You pleaded.

Leon smiled in complete satisfaction. "Please... what?" he prompted, his voice rich with amusement, you opened your mouth, desperately trying to force something— anything past the stone in your throat, but every coherent thought had vanished the moment he looked at you like that, and your cheeks burned again as you stood there, utterly speechless.

He chuckled quietly before brushing his thumb across your flushed cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. "Now," he murmured, his blue eyes dancing with mischief, "try calling me 'bro' again."

You shook your head, your lips curving into the faintest smile, and whatever teasing remark had been on the tip of your tongue dissolved, and all that came out was a soft croon, "Baby."

"Thats fucking right , thats what I am." He grins triumphantly.

He kisses you again, and you feel the low hum of satisfaction vibrate against your mouth. When he pulls back, you're laughing, giddy, breathless— and the sound seems to spark something molten low in your stomach. You grip his hand and press it between your thighs, right on your core, with a desperation that surprises even you, and you start to grind yourself against his palm with a hunger that demands more.

"My, desperate, girl", His smug expression immediately melted into the softest smile, then in the quiet of the room he gave you what exactly you were silently begging for.

and that was the day you realized you'd never tease him by calling him "bro" again, or maybe you would, you hadn't decided it yet, because if every teasing ended up being like this, then it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be.