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Riku’s body ached before he even opened his eyes. The past few months had been relentless—intense training sessions, recovery routines, and strategy meetings that stretched late into the evening. The Olympics were less than a year away, and every practice carried the weight of that reality. His coaches had been pushing him harder, making every drill sharper, every set more punishing. His body felt it, his muscles sore even as he lay under the covers, but he couldn’t complain. This was what he had worked his whole life for.
Still, despite the exhaustion pulling him deeper into the mattress, his alarm was unforgiving.
The familiar chime echoed in the quiet morning air, and with a groan, Riku forced himself to sit up. His fingers ran through his tousled hair, rubbing at his tired eyes as he slowly adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains.
Next to him, Daeyoung was still fast asleep.
The sight softened something in Riku’s chest.
Daeyoung had become a heavy sleeper due to his exhausting career, so now he was curling up under the blankets, his breathing slow and steady. A hand was tucked under his pillow, his dark hair a mess against the pillowcase, his lips parted slightly. He looked peaceful, completely untouched by the demands of their busy lives.
Riku hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. But as he watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he felt an overwhelming affection settle over him.
Leaning in carefully, he brushed his fingers against Daeyoung’s cheek before pressing a lingering kiss just below his temple.
Daeyoung barely stirred, but a soft hum escaped him.
A small smile tugged at Riku’s lips. He whispered, “Sleep well, love,” before pulling back.
Knowing Daeyoung wouldn’t be up for a while, Riku slid out of bed as quietly as possible and padded his way toward the bathroom. His morning routine was mechanical at this point—brushing his teeth, washing his face, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. By the time he made his way to their closet, his mind was still hazy with sleep, and he grabbed the first set of clothes within reach, tugging them on without a second thought.
His focus was already shifting to the day ahead—how many sets he’d be running, how brutal today’s blocking drills would be, whether or not his knees would survive another practice. He barely noticed the clothes he had thrown on as he slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way toward the door.
Just as his fingers wrapped around the handle, a sleepy voice called out behind him.
“Um… Riku hyung?”
Riku turned, surprised to see Daeyoung standing in the hallway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His voice was thick with drowsiness, and his oversized pajama shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, exposing a sliver of golden skin.
A chance like this was too good to pass up.
Without hesitation, Riku strode back over to him, looping his arms around Daeyoung’s waist and pulling him close.
"Hey, love," he murmured. "You always look so cute in the morning."
Daeyoung let out a soft chuckle, voice still rough from sleep. He tilted his head slightly as Riku leaned in, brushing their lips together in a slow, lazy kiss.
Daeyoung tasted like mint, the faint remnants of the toothpaste they shared. His warmth seeped into Riku, grounding him, making him forget for just a moment that he had an intense practice ahead of him.
Daeyoung responded with a small sigh, tilting his head further to deepen the kiss. His hands, warm and steady, slid up Riku’s back, pulling him closer.
Riku sighed against him, savoring the way Daeyoung kissed—unhurried, teasing, making him feel as if time had slowed. His lips moved in a way that made Riku’s chest tighten, like he was both completely at ease and utterly breathless all at once.
When Daeyoung finally pulled back, a lazy smirk played on his lips.
“You look cute,” he murmured, running his fingers over Riku’s side. “But I never thought you’d be wearing that out of the house.”
Riku blinked, still slightly dazed from the kiss. "What?"
Daeyoung’s hands drifted to his waist, playfully tugging at the fabric.
Riku followed his gaze downward—and let out a horrified gasp.
Somehow, in his half-asleep state, he had managed to pull on Daeyoung’s most infamous outfit.
The blue tracksuit.
The one Daeyoung had worn religiously to musical practice, despite being mercilessly teased for it by both his co-stars and fans. It was oversized, a shade of blue that was a little too bold, with ridiculous stripes running down the sleeves and pants. Daeyoung adored it. Riku had mixed feelings.
It was loud, it was unapologetically flashy, and worst of all—it was definitely not his.
“Ugh,” Riku groaned, immediately reaching to strip off the jacket. “This is because we haven’t done laundry in so long.”
Before he could escape, Daeyoung caught his wrist.
Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in and kissed Riku again.
This kiss was different.
It was deeper, slower—an intentional distraction. Daeyoung pressed their bodies together, one hand sliding to cup the back of Riku’s neck, tilting his head just right. His lips moved with precision, teasing him open, coaxing a soft sound from Riku’s throat before sliding his tongue against his own.
Riku gasped, his fingers instinctively tightening in the fabric of Daeyoung’s shirt. He felt warmth pooling in his chest, a slow burn that left him breathless as Daeyoung continued to kiss him with that lazy confidence of his.
Daeyoung didn’t let up, stealing the air from Riku’s lungs, making his knees feel weak. By the time they finally parted, Riku was left panting, lips tingling from the intensity of it.
Daeyoung grinned, looking far too pleased with himself.
"I forgot how much I liked when you wore my clothes," he teased, tapping a finger against Riku’s flushed cheek.
Riku let out an exasperated groan, dropping his forehead against Daeyoung’s shoulder.
“I hate you,” he muttered, though the way his fingers curled into Daeyoung’s waist said otherwise.
Daeyoung only laughed, running a soothing hand through Riku’s hair before pulling away. “But I’m the love of your life.”
Riku huffed but didn’t argue.
He was very tempted to ditch practice just to drag Daeyoung back to bed, but the clock on the wall reminded him that he was already cutting it close.
“Love you, I’ll see you later tonight,” Riku called as he grabbed his gym bag.
“Love you too, jagi,” Daeyoung’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “I’ll pick you up from practice tonight!”
Riku sighed, finally stepping out the door.
His lips still tingled. His body was still warm. And even though he was about to spend hours pushing himself to his absolute limit…
He had a feeling this was going to be the only thing he’d be thinking about all day.
Even if he had to do it in the most outrageous blue tracksuit ever.