#jone

You were an addict.

That much was clearly evident, addicted to the most soul crushing, life destructive thing. Something that could pull you to pieces within just seconds, and leave you to pick up the pieces.

Han fucking Jisung.

He'd had a lengthy break for a while, a break that he was more that happy to spend with you, showering you with all the love and affection he could physically muster until it felt like he could possibly give no more, and then some.

But now he wasn't here. He was cooped up in that stupid recording studio with the rest of 3racha, working on songs that were surely less important than you right about now. Honestly it just felt cruel, souping you up on love and affection just to withdraw it all in one day.

Now you were suffering from possibly the worst case of withdrawals possible, and the only temporary fix you had found was curling yourself around Han's pillow - the one that smelled like him - with the small Han Quokka plushie in hand.

Your lips felt empty without his pressing against them every five seconds like a lovestruck puppy pleading for attention. Your waist felt cold without his hands settled there like it was the only natural place they belonged. The house was too quiet without him knocking something over, or playing his music obnoxiously loud while he worked.

How was it fair that he could just whisk him and his constant kisses away to work, and just leave you with nothing?

Naturally, you were upset about this.

So when the front door creaked open, well past midnight, you made no move to go and greet him. You just listened to the sounds of him nearly tripping over his own feet as he toed off his shoes, a curse slipping from his lips that was probably supposed to be whispered - he'd never really had much volume control.

You heard a light switch click on, golden rays creeping through the gaps in the door to your bedroom as he shuffled down the hall, humming something - likely the latest track that he had been tweaking - under his breath.

The door creeped open. Your eyes remained closed stubbornly. You were awake yes, but he had abandoned you all day, thrown you to the wolves, as some might say.

Han seemed to shuffle around for a moment, before another, softer, light clicked on. The hallway light clicked off soon after, whatever lamp he'd turned on providing enough light to slide around on socked feet like a sleepy little quokka to get himself ready for bed.

You heard a light thud- almost certainly the sound of his bag being thrown at the chair in the corner, the one that neither of you had actually used since you'd bought it. His feet dragged across the floor a little more until you heard the bathroom door open and close.

Only now did you open your eyes.

You had a little bit of time, Han's skincare routine - while minimal in comparison to Felix's or Hyunjins - still took a decent chunk of time. Even more so when he was in this sleepy state.

You took the opportunity to adjust, curling even more around the pillow like it was actually Han, your hand almost choking the life out of the poor Quokka plushie.

The door clicked open again, the light flicking off as you heard his feet stomp their way over to the bed.

For being a song writer, his sense for noise was honestly alarming.

He seemed to hesitate for a long while, just lingering on the other side of the bed. You could feel his eyes burning into your back, and you'd pretty much grown a 6th sense for telling whenever this man was pouting.

He was definately pouting right now.

Oh well, he shouldn't have withdrawn his love from you cold turkey. You were simply getting payback.

Only, Han wasnt as complacent as you. Wasn't as willing to go to sleep cuddling a pillow instead of you. He leaned over and poked you once, just to check how deep into your ‘sleep’ you really were. You didn't move, he took that as a good sign.

He scooted around to your side of the bed, eyes glancing over the way you were curled around a pillow instead of him. His pout intensified.

A hand reached down slowly, ever so gently prying your fingers away from Han Quokkas neck. The plushie got set on the night stand, safe from your murderous grasp as he moved onto the bigger problem.

The pillow.

You were fully hunched around it, legs wrapped over it and all. How he was supposed to go about this was a mystery.

But he had to try.

His fingers started at your wrist, using the smallest amount of force possible to remove your arm from the Han-Imposter cuddle object

“Stop it” You huffed, snatching your hand back. Han froze, first of all; you were awake. Oh good lord, you were awake, he hadnt planned for what to say if you woke up. Second of all; you sounded mad. Why were you mad? What did he do?

“W-wait what? What did i do?” He blurted, too loudly for how late it was.

“Shut up, you're loud” You complained, stuffing your face into the pillow and imhaling. Han took offence to that. He was standing right in front of you, and you sniffed the pillow?!

“Yah! Baby!” He whined, somehow even louder. Honestly, sometimes you wondered if he had his head on backwards. You did love him, but sometimes his volume was concerning.

“What did i do?” He pleaded, sinking to his knees by the bedside to stare at you, chin resting on the edge of the bed so his boba-eyes were level with yours.

“You know” You insisted. Which wasn't fair, because he didn’t know, he really, truly didn’t.

“No i don't!” Part of you felt bad, he looked like he was about to cry. Then you remembered just how lonely you'd felt all day, and your lips turned into that adorable frown he just loved to kiss off your face.

“You left me, all day” You pouted.

“No kisses, no hug, not even a stupid selfie”

Han seemed to come to a realisation, boba eyes widening dramatically. He all but flung himself on top of you, his entire weight spread out over your side - rather uncomfortably.

“Yah! I've neglected my number one duty as a boyfriend!” He cried, dramatically. Like the tragic lead of a fantasy romance story would exclaim at the peak of the stories climax.

“How could i be so cruel!” He continued, much to you annoyance.

You really just wanted your god damn kisses right about now. And he was still witholding them.

“Stop monologuing and kiss me!” It tore from your throat impatiently, and Han laughed for a long moment. It had really been all of a few seconds, but your impatience dragged it out in your head.

He leaned down anyways, a hand brushing your hair from your eyes, pushing it back just enough that it wouldn't get in the way while he finally kissed you.

It was slow, warm, sweet, and everything you needed after being neglected all day. Just his lips, and yours. No complications, no arguments, no job nipping at his heels to drag him back into that god forsaken studio.

Just quiet, gentle love. The type of love you didnt realise you'd become so dependent on.

He pulled back to let you breathe, pressing a line of fluttering kisses from your temple down to your cheek, pressing one to the tiny blemishes that sat there like stardust, before slanting his lips over yours again.

The truth was, Han was also - hopelessly - addicted to you. Just as you were to him.

Addicted, wholeheartedly and irrevocably. Unable to live without the slow sweet passion that bloomed between you two every time you embraced in any capacity.

And the way his lips pressed just a little harder - a little more desperate - was a clear tell; he needed this as much as you did. He’d just gotten good at masking his need in front of anyone that wasnt you.

Your hands finally untangled from the pillow, one of them pressing against Han’ chest, just hard enough to feel his heart thud, thud, thud beneath his skin. The other curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers twirling the strands idly.

Using that grip on his hair, you pried him off gently, a pathetic little whine falling from his lips in response.

“Baby. Hannie, it's okay. I forgive you”

Han didn't care.

He wanted kisses now, and there was really very little you could do to stop him.

Not that you'd want too anyways, you were as far gone as him.

He just whined again, fighting against that grip on his hair to pull his face closer to yours. His hands shifted slightly, lifting him up from his position on your side, letting him hover over you.

Suddenly he didn’t seem so sleepy anymore.

His lips were downturned in that cute little pout again, a pout you couldnt help but kiss away. He made a happy noise in the back of his throat when you connected your lips again, and he allowed himself to drop down to his forearms, lowering himself to lessen the angle you both had to lean.

It also freed up his hands ever so slightly, just enough for him to move one to tangle into your hair, using that grip to keep you firmly in place.

The longer kisses eventually eaned off i to smaller ones, which inevitably just turned into the sleepy press of lips against eachother, both unwilling to stop, but too tired to continue. And somewhere amidst the blur of tired affection, the two of you had ended up on your sides, facing eachother.

“Don't do this tomorrow” you slurred, a hand braced against Han's chest to half him as he leaned in again.

“Mm, i won't. I'll carry you to the studio with me if i have too” He murmured back, snuggling close enough to wrap his arms around you; even when this exhausted, his arms still held you like steel bands, strong and unwavering.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you didn't doubt his words were true.