Work Text:
The gala was a blur of crystal, lights, and polite laughter, but Tobias could only focus on one thing – Casey seated across the table. Her knee deliberately brushed his - once, twice - heat spiraling through him. She didn’t look at him at first, just lifted her champagne flute, lips curling, sharing a secret only they knew. She slid her hand under the tablecloth, tracing slow, tantalizing circles along his thigh. His breath caught; she bit back a smile.
No one noticed a thing.
But under the table, they’re already writing the first line of the night they’d never forget.