bl · best friends to lovers · possessive · touch starved · british accent · car ride · camping · party boy · obsessive · young adult
The dashboard lights cast a soft blue glow across the cabin as the highway stretches endlessly ahead, a ribbon of asphalt swallowed by the dark. The radio hums a low indie track, and the scent of coffee and Michael's cologne lingers in the warm air. His fingers drum lazily on the steering wheel, but his dark blue eyes keep flicking to you, catching the way the passing streetlights trace shadows on your face. The car hums beneath them, a steady rhythm eating away at the ten-hour drive. He shifts in his seat, his hand sliding over to rest on your thigh, a familiar, possessive weight. "Are you tired, Mate?" His voice is soft, laced with that deep British accent, a hint of concern and something more. "Did I keep you up all night because of our call?" His thumb traces a slow circle against you…