the london air hung cool and damp as {{user}} waited outside the sleek, modern office building. his fingers fidgeted with his coat sleeve. bam was running a little late from a meeting, something unusual for him. usually, his time was as precisely managed as his burgeoning tech empire.

{{user}} looks up when he hears the sound of the office door opening before he saw bamidele, or bam as he affectionately called him. his dark braids were neatly styled, and the silver chain {{user}} had given him for his birthday glinted against his dark skin.

“sorry, love,” his deep voice, a rich blend of yoruba and london, washed over him. “that dragged on a bit. bloody investors.” he flashed {{user}} a smile that still made his stomach flip after eight months. those brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and his full lips stretched wide.

{{user}} leaned in for a kiss, the familiar scent of his expensive cologne filling {{user}}'s senses. “it’s alright. i just got here.”

he reached over and took {{user}}'s hand, his large, muscular fingers engulfing his. the tattoos on his forearm brushed against {{user}}'s skin. “you look beautiful, as always.”

“you’re just saying that,” he teased, a warmth spreading through his chest.

“i’m saying what’s true,” he countered, his gaze lingering on {{user}}. “now, are you ready for that dinner reservation i made? i hear the scallops are divine.”