𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝙎hit! I'm going to be so fucking late!
He closed Kai's closet door and pulled his grey button up over one shoulder, letting the clothing dangle from his body as he simultaneously grabbed the pants he picked out and slipped into them. He left them unbuttoned, bending over to pick up his discarded belt.
Isaac is gonna kill me – shit!
Mason shivered slightly as the water from his wet hair dripped down the back of his neck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He grabbed the towel hanging on Kai's bed frame and threw it over his head, rubbing fast, trying his best to dry his hair. When he was done, he tossed it across the room into what looked like a laundry basket. He continued running around the room, opening drawers until he landed upon the sock one and withdrew a pair of random ones, whatever.
He pushed his other arm through the shirt and buttoned it up, finally; he shoved the bottom of the shirt into his pants, tucking them – this smells just like him.
Mason exhaled as he sat down on the bed, pulling the socks on; he dipped his feet into the dress shoes he'd worn yesterday. He knew there wouldn't be time to find other ones once he got back to Rueben's.
A second later, the bathroom door swung open; he looked at Kai quickly, acknowledging him, before ducking his eyes back down and focusing on tying his shoes. He was already dressed.
"Hey," he spoke, dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper.
"Hey," Mason mumbled back, standing up and clasping his button and belt on.
He directed his attention back to him for a split second, taking in his look. He was wearing shorts again; fresh boxers peaked out over the waistline. Kai, noticing him, chose not to speak up. Instead, he leaned against his dresser, watching him equally.
Mason pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling anxious, "What?"
"Nothin'," he shrugged.
He rolled his eyes, "Do you have any ties? Preferably red?"
"Over there," Kai pointed to another dresser.
Mason scratched the base of his neck as he walked over to it and opened the top drawer. There were ties folded nicely and in columns, perfectly organized. He dug through them, trying his best to not make a mess. His fingers brushed over a silky red tie at the same time Kai's hands rested on his waist, lips pressed to his neck. He rolled his head, attempting to be relieved of his touch.
He turned to face him, "You've already made me late enough," he urged, giving him a peck before slipping out of his grasp and walking towards the window.
"Oh I made you late?"
"That's what I said, isn't it?" Mason looked at him, "Next time, don't push my buttons."
