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Summary
“Hey!” Felix scolds sharply, hands on his hips like a mother, “slow down, don’t scare him! He was napping!”
Jesus Christ, Minho thinks wondrously, how young is this puppy? How have they hidden a whole dog for this long with their insane schedules? It doesn’t make sense. It’s also just very unnecessarily risky in a way they don’t usually indulge, not anything like sneaking ramen the night before a performance, or pretending they aren’t doing a jerk off motion on stage with their microphones at each other’s faces and then having to act all surprised when skiziji scroll through Twitter disapprovingly showing them every video. Minho’s brain is already struggling, but it just about fries when he walks into the living room to find an eight panel metal gate in the corner housing a large dog bed and a myriad of toys and Seungmin. Kim Seungmin, his coworker and friend. In a collar.
or; daengkas pivot from cooking to monetised pet play.