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Yeosang is moping.
He’s been having one of those days where you wake up in a bad mood and can’t get out of it, like you’re stuck in a glue trap. He dragged himself to the couch in the hopes some episodes of his favorite show might help, but no dice.
Yunho comes out of their room, dressed to go out, but hesitates to move much farther than the doorframe when he sees Yeosang’s state.
“Yeosang-ah, do you want to come to the convenience store with me?” He asks softly, unsure whether Yeosang might be trying to sleep.
“No thank you,” he mumbles.
“Do you want anything from it, then?” Yunho follows up, walking to the front door and taking his keys from the hook.
Yeosang hums, trying to pull his thoughts out of the syrup holding them where they are.
Yunho’s face comes into view, much closer than before. His sweet features read concern, and he crouches in front of the couch.
“Are you feeling alright, Yeosangie?” He brings a hand to Yeosang’s cheek, and then moves his hair to feel his forehead too. Yeosang reaches up to pull his hand away from his face, but holds it still instead. The gentle touch is comforting. Yunho waits patiently for his reply.
“I’m having a bad day, is all,” he says after a moment.
“Ah, I know just the thing you need,” Yunho stands, giving Yeosang’s hand a light squeeze before letting go. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Wait for me.”
He leaves with a smile. Yeosang hears his key turn in the lock.
And now, Yeosang is waiting.
Waiting is much better than moping.
The tv, left idle too long, shuts off. He doesn’t care. He moves positions to lay on his back; the most movement he’s done in hours. After stretching his arms up and out, he admires the mundanity of the ceiling for a couple minutes. What interesting patterns for something nobody looks at.
He gets up from the couch and stretches a little more, wandering his way into their bedroom to find his phone and a blanket.
When he comes back to the living room, he hears the door unlatching. He sits back down on the couch, setting the blanket next to him and his phone on the coffee table.
Yunho comes in wearing the same smile he left with.
This time he sits cross-legged in front of the couch, setting his bags on the floor. He hums the item theme from Zelda while slowly pulling Yeosang’s favorite drinks and snacks out of the bag, doing little motions with his hands to mimic sparkles when he has everything set out.
The edges of Yeosang’s mood wear down.
“Why don’t you pick a movie for us to watch while I get everything moved to the table?” Yunho prompts.
Yeosang grabs the remote. He turns the tv on again and leaves his show behind. He scrolls through what they have downloaded, weighing his options. Yunho continues to hum Zelda tunes while moving his and Yeosang’s treats to the table.
Yeosang settles on a movie he knows they both like. Yunho pulls the table closer and sits on the couch next to him. Pressing play, Yeosang sets the remote next to his drink and flips his phone so the screen faces down.
He doesn’t watch the opening credits though, because Yunho has turned in his seat to face him. He opens his arms and reaches for him.
“Cuddles?” He asks.
“Cuddles,” Yeosang affirms.
He motions for Yunho to come to him, at which he gasps dramatically. “I get to be little spoon?”
“Who said you can’t?” Yeosang says, grabbing the sleeves of Yunho’s shirt to pull him in.
Yunho’s face lights up in excitement. Yeosang lays back and coaxes Yunho into his arms. He curls up with his head on his chest, arms against his sides, and legs tucked up onto the couch, entangled.
Yeosang wraps an arm around his shoulders and cards his other hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. Yunho closes them briefly, letting out a content sigh.
Yeosang can feel his mood clearing away slowly but surely.
Yeosang angles his neck downwards to plant a kiss on his now exposed forehead. Yunho’s eyes glitter when he looks up at him, smiling sugar sweet as always. Yeosang mirrors the smile, then stretches to place a kiss on his nose.
Yunho laughs and shifts a little so his face is closer. He gazes into his eyes again, giving a plea with just one look. Yeosang grants his wish and places his next kiss on his lips.
One peck turns into three, each kiss being a thank you from Yeosang to Yunho. Thank you for getting my favorite things , six. Thank you for existing , seven. Thank you for being mine , eight. On and on until breaks between kisses are no longer distinguishable and his thanks lose their composition, becoming chants of him, him, him .
Yunho pushes himself up onto his hands for stability. Yeosang holds his shoulders to ground himself as they melt into each other.
His hands move up to the back of his neck, one hand staying there and the other finding placement tangled in his hair. With a light tug on the strands acting as a cue, Yunho deepens the kiss.
He maps Yunho’s mouth with his tongue, and maps his body with his hands. He takes the chance to feel his lean muscles flexing, running his hands across his broad shoulders and down to his chest. He pauses there for a moment, just long enough to feel Yunho’s heartbeat under his hand.
He forgets he was having a bad day in the first place.
His mind clear and content, the kissing ends as easily as it started, and they fall back into their positions cuddling on the couch. He begins to absentmindedly play with Yunho’s hair.
He gently squeezes Yunho to his chest, his personal giant teddy bear. Yunho squeezes him back as best he can in the position he’s in.
With Yeosang’s bad day cured, the two settle in for an evening with plenty of snacks, movies, and each other.