crush imagines (he/him crush)

elevator part 2 (m)(request)

"No," I scowled, willing myself to stop shaking. "I'm fine."

Of course, my body decide to tremble violently at that very moment. He smirked and theatrically caressed the sleeves of his own collared shirt. I frowned and looked away, unamused and still freezing my ass off. 

A moment later, his crumpled shirt landed by my feet. I contemplated ignoring it, but took one look at his expectant face and pulled it on. It smelled like cucumber deodorant and aftershave, and was extremely warm despite being thin. 

I looked at him, at his tank top with a little stain on one sleeve, at the way it hugged his  chest, and noted that he suddenly looked casual and friendly. 

"Thanks." 

"No problem. Wouldn't want you to freeze," He replied nonchalantly. He stared at me for a moment, then smiled and looked at the ceiling. 

"What?"

"Nothing."

I stared at him. I could tell he still wanted to laugh, the corners of his mouth curling upwards.

"No, seriously, what?" 

He cocked his head, considering something, then stood and ambled back over to me. I looked up at him, his towering figure, confused and excited and warm. He squatted in front of me and grabbed the collar of my, well, his shirt. 

"It's backwards," he said, releasing it, but not moving. I wished he'd left his hand there. 

"Oh," I breathed. I didn't move to fix it, my eyes transfixed on his, his on mine. I thought I saw his pupils dilate, that I felt his breath on my chest. I wondered if he felt mine on his. 

His expression softened into a more natural one, instead of his confident smirk, then changed to confusion. I mirrored his expression, my heart racing. I hated the term butterflies; The way I'd describe the feeling in my stomach was lightheaded, but in my gut.

He began to lean in, then caught himself and leaned out. 

"May I..."

"May you what?" I said, testing him. 

"You know..." The playful smile returned to his face, and I melted. "Kiss you?"

I bursted out in laughter, and his throaty chuckle followed. 

"Yes. You can—"

"Good." 

He leaned in and planted and soft kiss to my lips, then pulled away and raised his eyebrows. 

"7/10," I muttered sheepishly.

"A C? I was a straight A student, you know. I don't do Cs."

"I mean, retakes are open," I suggested. 

He grinned and leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper, tugging lightly at my bottom lip. I placed a hand to the back of his head, letting my hand sink into his hair, willing him to come closer. He did come closer, pressing my back harder against the elevator wall, continuing to deepen the kiss as he slowly slid a hand up my thigh, settling it on my waist. I pulled away after a moment. 

"Wait—" He defiantly placed another kiss on my nose, my cheek, my neck. 

"Wait!" I laughed, to let him know he wasn't doing anything wrong while grabbing his attention. He pulled away reluctantly, lips puffy. "Can we move into a more comfortable position?"

We settled on him sitting with his back on the closed elevator doors, so the pesky bar wasn't there, and me straddling his lap, taking control, gripping his face as he cupped my ass.