❤️Dangerous❤️

She was forever finding little reasons to touch him, always finding something to do. She’d flatten the front of his jacket after he shifted in his seat, running her fingertips over his lapel checking that it was sitting properly. Every now and then she’d absentmindedly take hold of his tie, giving it the tiniest adjustment before smoothing it back against his shirt. She never interrupted herself, their conversation carried on the entire time with dainty hands working independently while her attention stayed on whatever she was telling him.

Michael didn’t tease her for the public displays of affection, he definitely didn’t stop her either. He just watched her, because he loved having her undivided attention. Sometimes he’d lower his head a little without thinking, making it easier for her to reach him. Or sometimes he’d smile before she’d even touched him because he’d already guessed what she was about to do. It was impossible to miss how happy and giddy he looked letting her fuss over him. The second she would pull her hands away, he found some excuse to bring them back, reaching for her wrist and lacing their fingers together.

Michael and (✿) were like.. obnoxiously happy together. A type of couple everyone swore they couldn’t stand until they spent five minutes around them and realized.. there wasn’t actually anything to dislike. They weren’t loud, or even really showing off. They were just.. relentlessly fond of each other. Every glance turned into a smile. And every one of those smiles turned into one reaching for the other’s hand. Conversations somehow ended with them giggling over something no one else had heard, and honestly? It probably wasn’t even that funny. It was enough to make people groan into their champagne before admitting, very reluctantly, that it was kind of adorable. “Congratufuckinglations!” and “That’s Mama y Papa!” type of thing. One would be absolutely gutted to find out a break up in the blogs because.. you really are supporting and rooting them.

Michael wore his sunglasses indoors, nothing new. She knew when he got around certain people he liked keeping them on but she loved his eyes and often got antsy when she couldn’t see them for too long, telling him he feels “far away” when he feels like this.

At one point her hand drifted toward his face. She slipped a finger beneath the bridge of his sunglasses and gently pushed them up.

Just a little.

She paused there, studying him for a few seconds with an expression somewhere between amusement and affection. Michael looked back, his eyes met hers without hesitation and before long that pretty, pretty smile spread across his face, slow enough that the photographers caught every stage of it. She smiled too, but it felt like it was almost to herself before she eased the sunglasses back into place with gentle hands, straightening them and giving the side of the frame the lightest tap with her fingertip.

Her hand lingered.

Instead of pulling away, it slipped behind his neck, disappearing beneath the curls resting against his collar. Her thumb settled against the warm skin at the nape of his neck and began slow, absent circles. Michael’s shoulders loosened and his head tipped ever so slightly toward her hand, and he stayed there, eyes still on her smiling through whatever story she’d started telling him.

At some point, her leg ended up draped across his. No one quite caught how.

One minute they were sitting side by side, listening with only half their attention as someone across the room addressed the crowd. The next, Michael had gently gathered her leg beneath the table and lifted it across both of his knees. It didn't seem to surprise her as she barely paused in the middle of whatever she was saying, simply shifting in her chair while he settled her leg across his lap with absentminded care.

She pointed toward one of her high heels, lifting her foot just enough to show him whatever had caught her attention. From where the cameras stood, it looked like she was complaining about something. The strap, maybe. The height. She spoke with animated little gestures, eyebrows pulling together in exaggerated frustration while Michael listened with the sort of patient expression he had for stories he’d already heard twice.

Then he chuckled—still smiling as he slipped one hand beneath her ankle, his thumb resting lightly against the inside of it while his fingers curled around the back of her heel. He turned her foot this way and that, inspecting it. Whatever conclusion he reached only seemed to amuse him more.

She gave him a look and her hand landed lightly against his forearm in what was very obviously an attempt to make him stop.

It had absolutely no effect because one thing about Michael, is he’s going to play—all day.

Instead, his thumb began tracing slow circles over the side of her ankle while he gently rolled her foot back and forth in his hand. His other hand drifted higher, smoothing absent strokes over the curve of her calf without a second thought, his fingertips barely grazing the fabric of her dress where it met her skin. He looked completely entertained by whatever she was saying, smiling at her with that familiar grin while she continued fussing, shaking her head and quietly swatting at his wrist again.

From across the room, it looked very much like she was scolding him. “Michael, stop it.”

From the expression on Michael's face, it looked like he intended to ignore every word of it.

He only smiled wider and she tried one last time, pointing toward her shoe again with an expression that suggested she was making an entirely different point than the one he’d decided to hear. Michael glanced dutifully at the heel for all of two seconds before his attention drifted right back to her. His hand never left her leg.

He leaned over in the middle of whatever she was saying, the thought had simply crossed his mind and he’d acted on it before it could disappear. His hand found the side of her face for only a second as he pressed a quick kiss against her lips.

It was over almost as soon as it began.

Except he never really left. He lingered just a few inches away, close enough that their noses nearly brushed. His smile had softened into something like be was endeared, his eyes dropping back to her lips because he’d gotten distracted halfway through pulling away. It looked like it seemed entirely possible he’d forgotten they were sitting in the middle of a ballroom filled with people.

Whatever she’d been talking about stopped mid sentence.

She looked back up at him with the tiniest pout, lips still pursed from the kiss, waiting expectantly because one kiss clearly hadn’t been enough. There was something almost impatient about it, like she’d been interrupted and fully intended on collecting what she believed she was owed before continuing her story.

Michael looked at her for another second then he leaned in again for another quick kiss, even shorter than the first.

She seemed satisfied this time, the corners of her mouth curling upward as she finally settled back into her chair. Before he could pull away completely, though, she caught his chin lightly between her fingers.

Her lip gloss had transferred onto him.

She glanced at his mouth, smiling to herself as the pad of her thumb gently wiped the shine from his bottom lip. Michael stayed perfectly still, letting her fuss over him with the same e endeared expression he’d worn all evening. When she finished, she gave his lip one last absentminded swipe, admiring her work for half a second before dropping her hand back into her lap.

After a couple more hours ballroom slowly emptied around them. Chairs scraped against polished floors, security began guiding guests toward the exits, and the crowd outside had already grown thick behind the barricades. Camera flashes bounced off the glass doors before they were even opened, the waiting photographers spotting familiar faces through the windows and shuffling into position.

Michael stepped out first and she followed a heartbeat later, their hands already intertwined. It was the sort of thing people expected from newly smitten couples, except they’d been together for about a year.

The shouting started immediately.

Questions overlapped until they became impossible to separate.

“Michael!”

“Over here!”

“You look beautiful, (✿) !”

“How was the event tonight?”

She glanced toward the voices first.

“It was lovely,” She answered with an easy smile, giving the crowd a little wave before looking back at Michael as they continued down the sidewalk. He was smiling too, offering a small nod with his sunglasses still sitting high on his nose despite the sun having disappeared hours earlier.

Another photographer called after them. “When are you two tying the knot?”

Oh!

The question caught both of them off guard and she laughed first feeling her cheeks and ear tips get warm. Michael immediately looked down shyly, and the reaction only made everyone around them laugh harder. It was the kind of question they had clearly heard before, but neither of them had mastered the art of pretending it didn’t affect them. She tucked a little closer to his side giggling, while Michael shook his head behind.

Then he looked at her, not fully but just a glance from over the top of his frames. That was enough.

She caught it and immediately smiled at him, because she knew exactly what that look meant. A quiet little check in—a private ESP shared between them before either of them acknowledged anyone else.

“We’re.. enjoying each other’s company right now.” More shouting followed before she’d even finished speaking.

Michael barely heard any of it; the cameras, the questions, the security guards urging them toward the waiting car.

It all blurred together the second she looked at him.

He spent the entire evening watching people watch them, and somehow she still managed to make him feel like there wasn’t another person in the room.

She always answered questions like that with the same diplomacy, never sounding flustered, never embarrassed, never trying to turn their relationship into a spectacle. She gave people enough to satisfy them, then quietly closed the door before anyone could step inside. He admired that about her. More than admired it. He relied on it.

She squeezed his hand once as they walked.

He squeezed back.

Without thinking, his thumb found the side of her hand, tracing the same slow path it always did whenever they walked together. It had become such a habit that he doubted either of them noticed anymore.

He looked down at their hands for a second and back at her. She was still smiling to herself. He wondered if she’d realized she’d called them “each other’s company.”

The words echoed around in his head with ridiculous persistence.

Each other’s.

It sounded.. nice. His smile crept back before he could stop it.

She caught it. “What?”

He only shook his head.

Nothing. He just liked the way she’d said it.

The ride back to their hotel passed in comfortable silence.

Every so often she’d catch him looking at her and smile to herself, smoothing a thumb over the back of his hand where it rested between them. He’d answer by bringing her knuckles to his lips for the quickest kiss before setting her hand back down again, he also couldn’t seem to go more than a few minutes without finding a reason to touch her.

By the time they reached the hotel, the suite was quiet.

She slipped off her heels the moment they stepped inside, leaving them abandoned beside the entryway with a relieved sigh. Michael laughed under his breath as he loosened his bow tie, setting his sunglasses on the coffee table.

He settled onto the couch, shoulders finally relaxing against the cushions, only for her to wander over a moment later with a glass of red wine in one hand.

She climbed onto the couch and settled across his lap, one knee rested on either side of him and her dress spilled over his legs while she balanced her wine glass carefully in one hand. Her free hand found his face almost immediately, fingertips traced the edge of his jaw.

Slowly. Back and forth.

He tilted into her touch without thinking.

She turned the stem slowly between her manicured fingertips while Michael continued looking at her with the same dazed and smitten look he hadn’t managed to shake all evening.

“You want some?” She asked.

Instead of reaching for the glass, he leaned forward.

Tilting the glass carefully, she brought the rim to his lips. Michael took a small sip, never taking his eyes off her as the wine touched his mouth. She steadied the glass until he leaned back again, swallowing before the corners of his mouth lifted.

“Yummy?”

He nodded once.

She was already lowering the glass when his hand settled lightly around her wrist, stopping her just long enough for him to lean in.

Their lips met again.

The kiss was slow and lazy. She smiled into it, her free hand sliding back to his jaw while he tipped his face toward hers. There was still the faint taste of red wine between them, sweet and warm, lingering just enough for her to recognize it before she kissed him again.

When they finally separated, they stayed close, noses brushing.Outside, the city hummed beneath their windows.

“..What are you thinking about, Bambi?” She asked quietly.

Michael’s eyes stayed on hers for another moment before drifting down to the stem of her wine glass, then back again.

“Oh, I dunno..” He blushed, embarrassed by the thought now that he had to say it out loud. “Could you see yourself marrying me, really?”

She stared at him for a second then giggled, he’d managed to ask the question with the same shy clumsy he’d had when he first asked her to be exclusive and official with him.

Her hand slid into his curls at the nape of his neck.

She leaned down and kissed him. It was unhurried, warm, lingering just long enough to make him forget he’d asked anything at all.

When she finally pulled back, their foreheads stayed close.

“Michael, I’ve been hoping you even consider me to be wife material..” She murmured.

“You have?”

She laughed again, this time unable to stop herself, brushing her thumb across his cheek as his grin slowly spread from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Of course.. there’s no one else who understands me the way you do. And I want to be someone you feel safe enough to marry..”

He looked completely delighted. “And babies?”

“As many as you want..” She pecked his lips. “Should we.. get in some practice tonight? Prepare for the real thing..”

“You’re bein’ dirty.” Michael responds, though his body is already reacting to her words feeling the blood start to pump directly into his shaft.

“Am I?” Her hands slide down his chest as she tilted her head at him, fingers fidgeting with his belt to unbuckle it. “I thought you liked playing patty cake with me.”

“You always win..” A half complaint wrapped in affection because yeah: every time they played together.. she ended up steering things exactly where she wanted.

And damn if he didn’t love losing to her anyway.