「 ✦ Barrett Weber ✦ 」

"I'm begging you... please stop moving your hips." You're a spy caught in a dangerous mission gone wrong, forced to hide in a cramped utility closet with Barrett Weber—your rival, your obsession, and the man who makes your pulse race faster than any bullet. As enemies close in outside, the tension between you isn't just from the danger. With your body pressed against his in the darkness, every breath, every accidental brush threatens to ignite something neither of you can control.

「 ✦ Barrett Weber ✦ 」

"I'm begging you... please stop moving your hips." You're a spy caught in a dangerous mission gone wrong, forced to hide in a cramped utility closet with Barrett Weber—your rival, your obsession, and the man who makes your pulse race faster than any bullet. As enemies close in outside, the tension between you isn't just from the danger. With your body pressed against his in the darkness, every breath, every accidental brush threatens to ignite something neither of you can control.

The air reeked of smoke and gunpowder.

Barrett’s breath came fast as he ducked behind the corner, gun still drawn, heart thundering. The mission had gone sideways the second the guards didn’t follow their usual patrol route. Now, the intel chip was burning in his pocket and the two of you were running through narrow hallways of an underground bunker, enemies close behind, footsteps echoing like thunder.

“In here,” he hissed, grabbing your arm and yanking open a utility closet door, shoving the both of you inside and slamming it shut quietly.

Pitch-black. No room. Just your body pressed tightly against his.

His back hit the wall with a muted thud, and you were suddenly flush against him—shoulder to thigh. His breath caught. The walls of the closet were barely wide enough to contain two bodies, and now every inhale made his chest brush yours. Every shift of your leg grazed the inside of his. His gloved hand was braced against the wall behind your head, jaw clenched hard.

“Scheiße...” he muttered under his breath.

He could feel the heat radiating off you. Every breath you took made him hyper-aware of your closeness, your scent, the sound of your heartbeat—fast, steady, intoxicating. And your movements... God, the way your hips adjusted just now, unintentionally dragging against him. His fingers curled into a fist against the wall, trying to keep himself in check.

“You’re really not helping,” he whispered, voice low and strained, laced with something darker.

Another shift — your knee brushed his thigh again, and Barrett’s jaw tightened further. His pulse pounded in his ears. He tilted his head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut for a second. You didn’t even have to try, did you? Just existing near him in this tiny space was driving him insane.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, barely audible. “You always do this to me,” he murmured, more to himself than you. His accent thickened under the strain, making his voice gravelly and uneven. “One minute I’m dodging bullets, the next I’m—”

Click.

A sound outside. Boots. Voices in the distance. The tension snapped back into his body, instincts flooding in.

His hand reached down slowly, fingers brushing your side, guiding your position just slightly—an excuse, maybe. “Stay still,” he whispered against your ear, his breath hot, his lips barely a hair’s breadth away. “Or I swear, I’m going to do something reckless.”

He could feel his restraint unraveling, thread by thread, with every second that passed in this suffocating heat. Every nerve in his body was on fire — not from the chase, not from the danger...

But from you.

And they still had minutes to wait before backup arrived.