23

You're halfway through your second slice of Tiramisu when you hear Namjoon laugh from across the table.

"You enjoying your food?" He asks and leans against his chair to feel more comfortable.

The jazz music playing in the background of a high-end restaurant near Namsan Tower fades. You were surprised to arrive and find no one else occupying the vast, open space. Perhaps Monday isn't as busy as a Friday night.

Licking the remaining sweet syrup from the corner of your lips, you grin up at the attractive man who already has his eyes set on you. "Mhm, I think this is the best Tiramisu I've tasted," you tell him. "Thank you for this, Namjoon. You know you didn't have to bring me to a fancy place. I could've just cooked for us at home."

Home.

Namjoon's smile widens as the flutter in his stomach continues unabated. He never imagined it would feel this good to finally be able to express his emotions. The feeling is too good that he wishes it would stay like this forever.

"I know that," he beams at you. "I'd choose your cooking over this any day, but I also wanted to take you out on a proper date. Just the two of us."

The innocent smile on your faded red lips is enough to fill him up.

"You're so good with words," you blush, shaking your head in hopes to hide the blood rush to your face.

"That bad?"

"Mhm, no. You just know the right things to say to a woman."

Namjoon leans closer and pushes up his elbows on the table's surface. Your eyes automatically wander to the veins decorating his arms like a vine. "Is it working on you?"

"Maybe," you say, pressing your lips in a tight line. "But have I told you how handsome you look tonight?"

He gawks at you, his lips parted into an amused grin. "I lost count."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. "Now, now, humble yourself CEO."

"We're only getting to the best part," Namjoon muttered before looking down at his watch and pushing out of his chair. You look at him perplexedly, instinctively following his movements.

"Where are we going?" You ask, tugging at your skirt and reaching for your purse. Namjoon doesn't waste any time pulling a written cheque from his wallet and placing it on a small, fancy-looking bill.

"Let's go," Namjoon cheekily smiles at you, offering his left hand for you to take. "We have another place to go to."

You frown at him and return your gaze to your table. A man in a suit approaches and bows politely before taking the empty dishes. "Wait a minute, we need to split the bill."

Namjoon raises his brows. "What? No. It's on me, love," he says and takes your hand in his. "Now, c'mon. We're gonna be late."

"Namjoon..."

You stay rooted in your spot, the urge to pay for yourself preventing you from walking out of here. You don't believe in first date nonsense, or expecting the person who offered to go on a date to pay. You believe that both sides should be able to put one foot down.

It hurts him, but when he sees how determined you are about this, he has to lower his pride as a gentleman. He knows your values and he respects them.

"OK, stay here." He lets out a small smile and lets go of your hand. "I'll go call one of the servers."

"Will you take my card?" You quickly pull out your wallet and hand it to him. Namjoon accepts it, and before you know it, you're walking back to his car, hand in hand, with a satisfied tummy and heart.

"You're so stubborn..." he whispers from beside you, squeezing your left hand in the process.

"And you're very..." you trail off, thinking of a word. "obedient..."

"Only when it comes to you, yeah?" He sighs, wrapping his arm around your neck as you both trudge down the sidewalk and to the valet area.

"I like that," you giggled, hoping the blush staining your cheeks remain hidden under the dim moonlight. "I like you."

Namjoon lowers his face so that he can see your reaction when he says, "I like you more."

✧ ✦ ✧

"Oh my God. . ." You let out under your breath as Namjoon finally pulls up to a stop. "Don't tell me we're going on that yacht."

Namjoon beams as he releases his seatbelt and turns to you. "We are. Do you like it?"

"I...do like it."

"I knew you would-"

You cut him off with the realization. "Shit-" you let out. "Namjoon, I can't swim. You know that. What if I fall into the water—"

"Y/N, that won't happen."

"Oh, god," you begin to panic, twisting in your seat. You purposely glue your eyes. "I... I like it, but is it too late to go back? Maybe we can just head home. It's getting late," you turn to him with a weak smile.

"Hey...you're fine." Namjoon takes your hands in his and rests them on his lap. "I promise nothing will happen. Do you trust me?"

You stay silent, unable to meet his gaze. You do trust him. But your fear is far greater than that. You trust him, but not the water, or the ocean in general. You don't have many fears, but this was the most obvious one. As a child growing up, you never learned how to swim unlike the rest of your siblings who had proper lessons.

"Y/N, you know I won't do anything to put you in danger, right?" Namjoon takes you out of your short daze. You don't know when he was able to walk you out of the car, but the way he comforts you by caressing your back and wrapping his jacket around your torso, you know you're in safe hands.

"I know..." you mumbled, burying your hands in the warm pockets of the thick material. "No one will hear us out in the darkness."

"Three of the best captains are on board, and coastguards will be keeping an eye on us the entire journey," Namjoon says as he strokes the side of your cheek with his thumb. "If you don't believe my words, please trust their credibility."

You turn your head toward the dock, where three to four people dressed in formal attire await. From the side, two men approach Namjoon. A shorter man in his early twenties bows politely before scurrying away. Your eyes widen in surprise as you notice a familiar face with his back to you, speaking to Namjoon.

"Thank you very much. Please return the car, and I'll let you know when to pick us up..." Namjoon's voice is a little muffled, but you can make out most of what he was saying to the latter.

"Mr. Song?" You choked out, your face and neck flush from embarrassment. At the sound of his name, he breaks off the short conversation with Namjoon and they turn their attention to you.

"Good evening, Miss Park. I hope you are doing well." The old man greets you with the same courtesy he has always shown. This is awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole. Even when the old man you'd known for years wore a neutral expression, it was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

There was no way he didn't notice your closeness to Namjoon while you were inside the car. Is he going to tell everyone at the office? Sell risky information to tabloids and gossip websites, potentially destroying Namjoon's reputation. You shouldn't worry, he doesn't have any solid evidence if he does tell someone.

He wouldn't... would he?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all your fault. Perhaps if you had simply distanced yourself a little more, this would not have occurred, and you would not have been caught getting too friendly with your boss.

Namjoon can already tell what's going on in your head. The way your eyes gloss more than usual, not due to the moonlight, but due to fear. As you were about to answer, Namjoon stepped in and dismisses him just as you were about to respond. Mr. Park nods, bows, and drives away into the night in Namjoon's car.

"I can hear your thoughts about this," Namjoon closes in the distance between you two. He tongues his cheek and looks you in the eye.

You tear your gaze away from where Mr. Park had driven off to, a look of dismay flashing in your eyes. "About what?"

"You're embarrassed," he states, an underlying lying tone of sadness in his voice.

"Namjoon, what are you talking a-"

"You're embarrassed by me, right?"

Your brows pull together. You can almost- physically feel the ache in your heart. Where is this coming from? Did it look like that to him?

"Answer me." He demanded, and although he was getting a bit stressed out about this topic, he oddly maintained his cool and respectful tone toward you. "Are you ashamed of me, Y/N?"

You bite your lower lip, unsure how to explain it to him, but you try anyway. "No, of course not!" Your hushed tone raises unexpectedly. Namjoon scowls, averting his gaze. He seems pissed, not at you, but at the situation.

You're not exactly boyfriend and girlfriend because you have yet to put a label to whatever this was, and Namjoon appears to have forgotten his high position in a leading company. He can't just do things without thinking, but with you, it's like every logical thought in his mind vanishes. He didn't need to think about anyone else before, but now, every decision in his life involves you.

It's the same for you. These last few days have been nothing but you doing things you would never think of doing. Like getting intimate with your boss, for one.

You shouldn't have done it in the first.

But it's too late. You're already in too deep.

"That's not- no. I am not embarrassed or ashamed of you, Namjoon." You tell him, lowering your gaze down at the cement.

"Then what is it?" He continues. "Are you regretting this?"

You look up at him, frowning. It's not regret you're feeling, that's one thing you are sure of. "I don't regret experiencing this with you," you tell him softly. "I'm sure you know what this could mean for us if we keep going. Mr. Park—"

"Mr. Park knows."

"What?"

"He knows about us," Namjoon says so casually as if he knew all this time. Is that why he didn't seem worried around the old man?

"What do you mean he knows about us?" Your jaw slacks at his words. "What exactly does he know, Namjoon?"

"Everything." He mumbles. "He was the first one I told-"

"You told him?!" You exclaimed in disbelief.

"I...yeah?" He looks at you as if you've said something wrong. "I mean he already knew we liked each other even before we knew ourselves."

"I- excuse me!" You gasp unbelievably. "I didn't like you like that—"

Namjoon squints his eyes and looks at you pointedly as if he was saying "You sure?"

"I- okay, fine," you grumbled, embarrassingly looking in the direction of the yacht. There was still the same staff waiting for you to board.

"Fine, what?" Namjoon's amused tone clears the tense air. "Fine as in you're not mad anymore, or fine as in, we can finally get on board?"

"Fine as in I did like you, and all of the above."

"Did?"

You groan as you take his manly hands in your small ones and walk to the dock. "Why were you speaking in the past tense?" Namjoon asks behind you. "So you don't like me anymore?"

"Keep your mouth shut until we get on board, and maybe I'll answer that," you mumbled as you made your way to the deck with Namjoon still trailing behind you. A table for two sits in the center, near the bar where a bartender stands casually. He sends you a subtle wink and you try to hold in your laugh. Never have you thought that a wink could be this cringe until now.

"What... did you just smile back at him?" Namjoon spoke up childishly, and you finally snap your attention back to him. 

"It's called being polite, love."

Namjoon blushes and cutely licks his bottom lip. It's not cringe when he does it, you note to yourself.

"You should call me that more often," he smugly says, pulling you in by your hips. He squeezes it with his right hand before softly pressing his swollen lips - from the short make-out session earlier in his car - on yours.

"I'm afraid I'll never shut up when I do," you mumble against his lips, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You let your hands roam against the taut material of his shirt. It's not intentional, but your hands are shamelessly exploring the muscles begging to be let out.

He's so fucking sexy, and he knows it. Just as he knows what makes you happy and what sinful little sounds come out of your mouth.

"Good thing I know how to keep your pretty little mouth quiet," he murmurs breathlessly. His stiff breaths are enough to send chills down your spine and heat rush through your core. Between your toned legs, you can feel the moisture building up with each rhythm of his tongue around yours.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens with desperation. "Namjoon..."

He hums against your neediness, letting his hand rest on the back of your thighs, right below where the material of your skirt ends. Namjoon pulls away briefly, wipes his saliva off his lips with the back of his hand, and goes back to clean off the red lipstick smeared on the corner of his lips.

Namjoon smiles down at your state, running his left hand down your throat. Though you wish he would apply more pressure-

"May I?" He asks, looking into your eyes for some kind of hesitation.

You nodded wordlessly, placing your hand over his as he skimmed down your neck but stopped just above your chest. It should come as no surprise that he is respectful. It's just how he is. It's one of the many things you like about him.

"Y/N, I need you to use your words."

"Yes."

He doesn't say anything else as he grazes his lips with his tongue before leading you to the side of the yacht. There, you both lean against the rails, bodies touching each other. Namjoon stays silent, leaning his face out into the ocean. You watch him with a smile on your face. Then, you clear your throat.

"You don't plan on throwing me off this boat, right?" You joked, trying your best to look off into the darkness to prevent from getting sick.

Just as he was about to answer, eruptions of colorful sparks fill the sky and it goes on for a few more seconds until your eyes almost tear up at what surprises you at the end.

Be my girlfriend, for real. It wrote and exploded before everything died down.

You look beside you to find Namjoon kneeling with a box in hand. He opens it and takes out a piece of jewelry. A familiar jewelry. Holy shit. Is he prop-

"This isn't a proposal," he muses. You let out a sigh of relief but then see him narrow his eyes at you. Then he eases up and flashes his dimples. "Usually, it would have to be a ring." He's right. It's a necklace for fucks sake. "It's a gift," he clarifies.

"Namjoon, I can't accept this-"

"I'm not giving you an option, Y/N. A gift is a gift," he argues. "I'm not taking this back either," he refers to the car you previously returned.

"You were supposed to give this to your mom for her birthday," You remind him of the time he left Tiffany and Co. store in a hurry without the initial jewelry you thought he was going to purchase for her. In the end, you both left without it.

"I know, but it looked better on you."

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. "Are you always going to think of me when you go shopping?" You joked. The last time was when he bought you the dress because he said it reminded him of you, and that it looked better on you than the mannequin.

"Kim Namjoon, you're such a bullshitter."

"What can I say? You're perfect to me."

You make a weird nose from your throat and pull him up to your level. "You can't keep spending this much money on me," you sighed. "Although I'd love my own sugar daddy-"

You don't even get to finish your sentence because Namjoon has already wrapped his arms around your thighs and thrown you on his back. You hear him mutter something under his breath, along the lines of 'you don't need', and 'don't try me'.

"Hey! Put me down right now!" You called out from his behind, your vision starting to get dizzy as he maneuvers down the deck and into the lowest floor of the yacht.

You just hope no members of the crew or captains are lurking in the shadows, because you honestly have no idea what Namjoon is thinking.

And beforeee you guys say anything— of course he didn't actually let her pay for their first date. He'll just let her think about it lol since she wants to feel independent 😌