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Jisung loves days like these.
He’s no stranger to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, thrives off of busy days and rushing from place to place, but sometimes it’s nice to just relax, especially when there’s no work plaguing his mind.
It also doesn’t hurt that his boyfriend absolutely loves cuddles.
That’s how he finds himself with Minho on his lap, slender fingers peeking out from his massive pink sweater and curling into Jisung’s shirt. He’s a pleasant weight– warm and comfy like the day they’re definitely wasting– and so, so sleepy.
“Kitten,” he whispers, grinning as the fluffy white ears atop Minho’s head twitch, “Are you falling asleep?”
Minho hums, tightening his grip on Jisung’s shirt. He shifts with little purpose, trying to get closer and just a bit comfier in any way he can.
“Sleepy,” he mumbles, letting out a tiny yawn that makes Jisung coo.
His favourite part of days like these is how clingy Minho gets, all droopy eyes and slurred sentences and skinship at every given opportunity.
It’s cute.
“You wanna go to bed?” he asks, bringing a hand up to Minho’s ears and petting him gently. He laughs at the low purring sound pulled from his throat. “I’ll carry you if you do.”
“Mm…” he burrows deeper into Jisung’s chest. “Good here, you’re warm.”
The little gold bell jingles every time he moves. When Jisung had first gotten it for him he’d freaked out at the sound, flinching at the metal trill but refusing to let Jisung take it off him and find him a new one.
“Minho, we can always get you one without a bell,” Jisung had said, trying to coax him close enough to untie the white ribbon at the back. “You’re just as pretty without it.”
He had hissed, eyes narrowed and angry, protective over the gift. “I want this one, ‘s mine, Sungie.”
“You don’t like the bell, though.”
“Still mine.”
Jisung remembers how agitated he’d gotten, ears flat against his head and shaking like a leaf. He also remembers how small he’d felt when Jisung finally got close enough to wrap his arms around him, humming gently to soothe him.
It’s not a nice memory for him, but at least Minho had actually gotten used to the collar.
Pink and white ribbons for his kitty, it’s pretty and it cost him an arm and a leg, but the result was absolutely worth it. Minho loves it and refuses to take it off for anything except showering and sleeping – Jisung’s too light a sleeper for the bell – his prized possession.
He toys with the bracelet around his wrist, a simple chain with a moon charm. It matches the one attached to Minho’s collar (“See!” Minho had said, “You’re mine, too, now.”).
Minho moves his head from Jisung’s chest to his shoulder, burying his face in his neck and pressing tiny pecks to his skin.
“That tickles, kitten,” he says, but makes no attempt to push him off.
A puff of breath against his neck shows Minho’s laughter, but he doesn’t make any move to stop.
It’s not until teeth gently graze his collarbone does he realise what Minho wants.
“Hey, you,” Jisung whispers, “Don’t get worked up now, you’re so sleepy.”
“M’kay,” he hums and stops his soft attack.
The conversation is over.
Jisung realises Minho’s tail is wrapped around his thigh when he reaches down to stroke his lower back. He huffs out a small laugh and lets his hand run over it.
It’s no surprise to him when Minho mewls at the touch. A pretty whine. Jisung is acutely aware that his tail is sensitive and knows full well what relaxes him the most, especially with his current drowsy nature.
He runs his hand over the tail again and Minho sighs, melting even further into him.
“Sungie?” his tired voice is Jisung’s favourite. “Have we got any banana milk?”
He laughs, bringing his hand up to scratch behind his ears. “If you let me up, I can go get some for you.”
Minho takes a long time to decide and Jisung can practically hear him weighing up the options in his head. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again, going back to his consideration.
“Or I could carry you.”
His head shoots up with a big smile on his face as he nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, that’s the one, Sungie.”
“Okay, kitten.” he hooks his hands under Minho’s legs, skin bare where his strawberry-print shorts have ridden up and lifts him easily.
Minho’s weight – or lack thereof – always comes as a shock to him. He’s so light that Jisung barely has to strain to stand with him in his arms, particularly easy with Minho so sleepy and pliant.
“You said you wanted banana milk?” he says when they get to the kitchenette. “We’ve got strawberry, too.”
“Banana, please.”
Jisung nods and manoeuvres Minho so all his weight is on one arm before using his now-free hand to open their snack cupboard.
“Here you go, kitten,” he says, handing over the small carton. “Back to the couch?”
“Mm,” Minho starts, “Hungry.”
“You’re so demanding,” Jisung teases, trying to set him down on the counter but coming face-to-face with a problem. “Baby.”
“Yeah, Sungie?”
“You do know that you have to let go of me so I can make food, right?”
“Don’t wanna.”
Jisung bounces him in his arms. “Don’t pout, baby, you’re the one that said you were hungry.”
“You don’t know I’m pouting,” Minho huffs.
“I do, actually.” and sure enough, he’s right. Minho lets himself be placed on the countertop with his lips pushed out dramatically. “Aww, kitty, don’t be mad at me.”
His eyes are a dead giveaway, wide and sparkling behind his pretty pout and Jisung can’t stop himself from planting a kiss on his lips.
Minho pulls away, still trying to convince him of his anger. “I’m mad at you, don’t do that.”
Jisung hums. “Okay, baby, if you’re so mad at me you’ll be fine if I–” he removes his hands from where they rest on Minho’s tiny waist– “Do this?”
The reaction he’s looking for is immediate, Minho’s pout dropping as he scrambles to grab him and bring his hands back to him.
Laughing, he returns to his position between Minho’s legs. He’s got a bit of height on Jisung in general, but it’s exaggerated by the kitchen counter. “Kitty, I also have to stop touching you so I can cook.”
“No, you don’t.” Minho hooks his ankles around Jisung’s waist. “Look, now you can’t escape.”
“What are you so clingy for today?” he asks, feeling Minho’s tail wrap around his wrist. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s wrong?”
The lack of reply has him cupping Minho’s face with the hand not held in place by his tail. “Kitten,” he says gently, “You can tell me anything, I’m always here for you.”
“Just…” he trails off. “Just missed you this week.”
Oh.
Jisung knows he’d been busy all week but he hadn’t realised the toll it must have taken on Minho. He’d been picking up extra shifts at the bookstore to afford Minho’s birthday present, but, again, his kitten didn’t know that.
“Baby,” he mumbles, pressing their foreheads together. “You can tell me if you need me, I’ll always make time for you.”
“It’s not your fault you were busy,” he says, avoiding Jisung’s eyes. “It’s dumb, you can’t help it, I don’t know why I’m like this.”
“Hey, it’s not dumb if you’re upset.”
“It is dumb, Sungie, I need to get over it.”
“No no no, kitten.” Jisung wants to cry at how small Minho looks right now. “Your feelings aren’t a burden, baby, never.”
There’s no response and he’s about to reiterate his point when Minho seams their lips together. It’s slow and soft and he’s shocked, taking a moment before kissing back.
Of all the things he loves about Minho– his ears, his giggle, his legs, his fluffy tail, his eyes, the mole on his nose shaped like a heart– his mouth is his favourite. The slightly bigger top lip, the round “O” shape it forms when he’s thinking, the way it falls open when Jisung asks nicely.
How soft it is against his own.
He tastes like artificial banana and the cherry hard candy Jisung keeps in the centre compartment of his car, absolutely addicting and overwhelming in every single way.
If his favourite part of days like this is getting to hold his pretty, pliant boyfriend, his second favourite is getting to kiss him lazily with the evening sun streaming through the windows of their apartment.
Moments like these, days like these.
“Kitten,” he says against Minho’s lips, “Let me make us something to eat.”
He’s less reluctant to let go now that he’s sated with kisses. His ears are droopy as he sucks at the straw of his banana milk, eyes half-closed. Jisung retreats with his hand lingering on Minho’s thigh for just a second before pulling away completely.
“Mac and cheese?” he asks, shaking the box of pasta.
Minho nods eagerly at the mention of his choice comfort food and Jisung can’t keep the grin off of his face.
“I think we should go out tomorrow, baby,” he says while pouring water into their biggest pot. “We can go shopping.”
“That sounds fun, Sungie,” Minho replies. He finishes the last of his milk and tosses the empty carton at the trashcan in the corner of the room and misses by about two metres.
A groan punctuates his trek to collect the pitiful container and throw it away, muttering about his “stupid aim” and “terrible throw”.
Arms wrap around Jisung’s middle while he’s leaning over the stove, a chin coming to rest easily on his shoulder.
“Hi,” he says, pouring the pasta into the bubbling water. “What are you doing over here?”
“Got bored,” Minho says, tail brushing against Jisung’s legs. “and you just looked so warm – I couldn’t help myself.”
Jisung spins in his hold when he’s sure the pasta will be alright on its own. “Are you cold, kitten?” he asks, thumbing at the sweater Minho is absolutely drowning in. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, hmm? Dinner will be ready when you’re done.”
His tone leaves little room for argument and Minho agrees without much of a fuss.
Mostly.
“Don’t you wanna come with me, Jisungie?” he asks, turning on his whiny voice and biggest eyes.
Jisung laughs and points at their bathroom, letting his dejected kitten shuffle off.
“You’re still cute, baby,” he calls, laughing again at the mock-scowl Minho casts over his shoulder.
He starts on the sauce. Minho doesn’t like premade and if Jisung is honest, he doesn’t care much for it either once he looks beyond the convenience. Luckily for both of them, Jisung’s mother taught him how to make “proper” mac and cheese.
The whisk is light in his hand as he beats the cornstarch into the melted butter, then the milk, then the cheese. He knows the recipe by heart, muscle memory carrying him through the steps.
Pouring the sauce into the pasta and the pasta into an oven-safe dish to grill for a few minutes is the last thing he does before he’s practically bowled over by Minho.
“Hi, kitten,” he says, “Can you grab some bowls for me?”
“Hug first.” Minho’s legs are snug around his waist– where they belong– and he’s tucked his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck.
“You don’t want me to burn dinner, do you?” he’s quick to drop his socked feet to the floor and push Jisung in the direction of the oven.
“I’ll get the bowls,” he says it like it’s his own idea, “You do your chef thing.”
“I’m hardly a chef.”
Minho isn’t having it. “Blah blah, I can’t hear you over my boyfriend being a fantastic chef.”
“It’s mac and cheese, Minho.”
“I can’t hear you,” his singsong voice calls and Jisung decides to just let him win.
Minho sets the bowls on the counter with a triumphant smile, ears perking towards the food Jisung is pulling from the oven. He doesn’t have to look at his boyfriend to know his pupils have grown wide and attentive, not letting any movement of the dish go unnoticed.
“You always do this,” Jisung laughs, reaching up to scratch behind Minho’s ears. “Can you stop going all silly-mode on me so we can eat?”
Minho shakes his head from side to side, releasing his focus slightly but keeping his eyes trained on the food.
Jisung sighs and pats his cheek before turning back to dishing up for them, mumbling something about a “silly kitty” that Minho isn’t present enough to process.
He hands Minho a full bowl, amusement written across his face at the eagerness in his eyes. “Go sit down for me, hmm?”
Minho nods absently, barely navigating to their table with his attention so wholly attached to his bowl. Once he’s there he sits patiently, food sitting in front of him in wait.
“You can start eating if you want, kitten,” Jisung says as he dishes up his own portion.
He doesn’t, opting instead to look at Jisung with sparkly eyes. It’s a habit, waiting for him to be seated so they can eat together.
Jisung knew today wouldn’t be any exception when he’d said it, but he likes giving Minho the option anyway.
He shuffles over to his seat, eyeing Minho’s pre-bliss expression with gentle eyes. “Come on, baby, eat as much as you want.”
Minho isn’t one to turn down an offer like that, especially now that he can kick his feet out and feel Jisung’s fight back instead of yearning for his boyfriend across the kitchen. He tucks in, a tidy eater even though he eats at the speed of light.
“‘s good, Sungie,” he says between mouthfuls. “Thank you.”
“Of course, baby.”
It’s relatively silent while they eat, punctuated by the scrape of forks on the bottom of bowls and Minho’s occasional hum of satisfaction. On days where they don’t see each other, it’s different, attentive listening and performative voices fill their small apartment and Jisung isn’t quite sure which version of them he prefers.
Minho finishes his meal and pushes his bowl forward, patient for Jisung to finish. His eyes have lost the particular wide-pupil look characteristic of him going brain dead over food or a toy or loose threads in their bedsheets which serves to tell Jisung that he’s happy and full.
“Go shower, I’ll sort out the dishes,” he says when Jisung mirrors his movement.
He’s indignant. “I can help– I’ll just wash up after we’re done cleaning.”
It’s Minho’s turn to shoot him a look that shows him he’s lost the battle.
“You sure you don’t need help?”
“I know how to wash some bowls, Sungie.”
Jisung gives a dramatic sigh. “Fine, I’ll be back in a bit.”
He knows Minho wants to latch onto him again and is currently exhibiting huge amounts of self-control to prevent losing what little advantage he has, so naturally, Jisung indulges him, lets him relish in his power, even if it’s only enough to send his boyfriend away.
Mirroring Minho’s earlier path to their bedroom, he throws an exaggerated longing glance over his shoulder, watching Minho’s façade drop for a second to reveal adoration brewing behind his eyes.
It’s gone before Jisung can point it out and is replaced with a stern look.
“I’m going, I’m going.” he puts his hands up in mock-surrender and trudges the rest of the way to the shower.
Once he’s warm and dry, wrapped up in a hoodie and sweatpants instead of the thin shirt from earlier, he bounds out of the bedroom, finding Minho waiting for him on the couch.
“You’re back,” he says, making grabby hands at him. “Missed you.”
Jisung laughs and throws himself down next to Minho, pulling him into his lap. “You’re the one that sent me to shower.”
Minho drops his head so he’s in the right position for Jisung to pet him, letting him smooth his hair down and scratch behind his ears because Jisung always knows where he wants attention.
“Come here, baby,” he says, tugging him closer by his hips. “You’re just a lap kitty, aren’t you?”
Minho hums and relaxes into his hold, playing with the sleeves of his fluffy white jacket. No response to Jisung’s claim, mostly because he knows it’s true and can’t really fight it.
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks, stilling his hand on the kitten’s head for a moment. “I’m sure there’s something on Netflix…”
Minho shakes his head and cuddles further into his chest, basking in all the attention he’s getting. Jisung raises his hand just above his head– teasing– and smiles at the mewl of indignance as he butts up into his palm, craving his touch despite hours upon hours of gentle petting.
“We can cuddle in bed, then, kitten,” he says, pressing a kiss to Minho’s forehead. “We’re both going to regret it if we fall asleep here.”
“Only if you carry me.”
Jisung tightens his grip on Minho’s hair for a second, chuckling at his demand. “Only because you asked so nicely.” he releases, although he knows that Minho is well aware of what prompted the tug.
“Tired, Sungie,” he mumbles, bringing his sweater paws up to loop around Jisung’s neck. “Carry me, please ?”
It’s enough for him, grabbing Minho’s thighs and shifting him so he’s supported. “There we go, kitten,” he whispers, standing just as easily as he had earlier, although this time, Minho is sleepily nibbling at his shoulder without much intention beyond being close to him.
“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?” Jisung pushes the door open with his foot and carries Minho to the bathroom, placing him on the counter. “Teeth first, sleepy baby.”
Minho just nods, accepting the toothbrush when Jisung hands it to him. “Thank you.”
He hums, brushing his own teeth and making faces at Minho in the mirror, drawing a soft giggle from his lips and making him pull an equally dumb face back at him.
Jisung laughs over his toothbrush, finishing up and turning to Minho with a smile.
“Can you walk to bed or do I need to carry you there, too?”
Minho answers by draping himself over Jisung’s shoulders but keeping his feet on the ground, effectively transferring all his weight to him. “There, let’s go.”
They’re quick to bed, Minho discarding his jacket on the floor next to his side and crawling in, curling up next to Jisung as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is, for them, it really is.
His tail finds its favourite position– wrapped around Jisung’s thigh. The bell on his collar jingles and he sits up straight, remembering he’s got to take it off before he falls asleep.
“Help me, please?” he asks, turning away from Jisung so he has access to the ribbon holding the collar in place.
Jisung makes quick work of it, undoing the sturdy bow and handing it to Minho, watching him place it on the nightstand next to his stack of books and reading glasses.
“There, now come sleep, won’t you?”
Minho is happy to oblige, settling down for real this time and tracing shapes into his chest with his pointer finger. His ears droop downwards as his breath slows and Jisung doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to falling asleep next to him.
“Goodnight, kitten,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead and rubbing gently behind one ear. “I love you.”
The last thing he hears before drifting off is a small hum from Minho, their legs slotting together almost habitually as if they weren’t close enough already.
But it’s all he needs.