˚ · ｡* ✩ . · * ✧. ˚

either way, heeseung spares your pathetic rebuttal, instead squirming out of your arms to pace over to his bedroom with quick strikes and a determined huff. the whole time, you send him whines and complaints from the couch, scolding him for leaving the cuddle session early — even more so when he disappears behind the door accompanied by noisy clacks of coat hangers knocking each other.

“finally,” you grumpily announce once he returns, arms extending to make grabby hands along the way. however, when you try to pull him back onto the couch, the bastard moves away, pointing at the purple hoodie in his grasp stubbornly.

“nuh-uh, hoodie off first,” heeseung demands.

“but hee, i want—“

unfortunately, you’re interrupted once more by a strict glare. “you can have cuddles when you aren’t wearing my bandmates clothes.”

his stubbornness always wins, apparently. as you accept defeat, you roll your eyes while yanking the material over your head. “so dramatic..“

heeseung doesn’t seem to mind your jab, much too busy smiling cutely as you pull his hoodie on instead, snickering at how it looks way bigger than usual. even more so when you expectedly gaze up at him, opening your arms and humming when he falls into them at last.

suddenly, heeseung’s spinning around so you’re the one perched up on his lap, deer-like eyes scanning over you in adoration. “there’s my baby,” he pecks your lips through mumbles, thumb rubbing your cheek to enhance his affection. “so pretty in my clothes.”

your lips descend to gently find a home against his neck — though you never admit it’s really to hide the blush arising from his words. “yours is more comfy, n’ it smells like you.”

he grins, a veiny hand moving up to run through your hair. “good. i plan to pull the hyung-card and make sure no hoodies are lying around here except mine from now on.”

you can only laugh, despite knowing that he’s not exactly joking.

It’s at rushed times like this when you wish you could be in Heeseung’s embrace forever. When you can hear the faint sound of cheering behind the soft, careless whispers of your boyfriend.

“We barely have ten minutes Hee,” you chuckle, hands moving to brush through his freshly dyed locks, “let alone two even.”

“I have to go, Hee,” you mutter, yet your boyfriend can’t seem to let you go, arms still tightly wrapped around your waist, ring cladded fingers dancing across your smooth, exposed skin.

“Go where?” Heeseung hums, and it’s as if he forgets where the both of you really are, like there isn’t a crowd waiting for you to appear on stage, like he isn’t supposed to be in his waiting room.

“Here?” he speaks softly, lips moving to place soft, chaste kisses on the base of your neck. “Or here?” he continues, now moving to the side of your lips.

And Heeseung does everything with such gentleness as tingles shudder through your body; bones melting and nerves seared as you yearn to pull him even closer against you. His trembling fingers and hammering heart as he kisses you fervently brings flocks of butterflies to your stomach.

Just one more kiss, you tell yourself as you indulge in the sweetness of your boyfriend. And you savour how each fleeting kiss feels like it’s ten minutes long, just his lips against yours, close, brushing, sharing air and warmth, ever so achingly careful.

A hard knock on the closed doors is what brings the both of you back to reality. And as your lips part his, Heeseung already starts to miss you — your warmth, your scent, you, and he almost starts wishing that he didn’t have to share you with millions of fans around the world.

“Be back soon?” Heeseung asks, eyes hazy and mind awry like a lost puppy. His fingers gently push against your lips, removing any traces of smudged lipstick.

You hum, “just ten minutes, Hee.”