Chapter Text
Seungcheol first noticed it over breakfast.
He was still groggy, stirring sugar into his coffee, when Jeonghan leaned across the table and pecked his lips. No context, no morning greeting—just a quick kiss and a smug smile as he went back to buttering his toast.
“Morning,” Seungcheol mumbled, raising a brow. Jeonghan hummed like nothing happened.
It continued all day. In the hallway, as Seungcheol tied his shoelaces. In the laundry room, when he was bent over swapping clothes from washer to dryer. Even while Seungcheol was frowning at bills, Jeonghan swooped down and pressed another kiss to his mouth, light as air but constant.
At first, Seungcheol chalked it up to Jeonghan’s usual brand of mischief. But then came the evening.
They were sprawled on the couch, halfway through an episode of their show, when Jeonghan leaned in again. This time, he didn’t pull away immediately—he lingered, tasting. When he finally sat back, there was a sparkle in his eye.
“Cherry vanilla,” he announced, like he’d solved a mystery.
Seungcheol blinked. “…What?”
“That lip balm you’ve been using.” Jeonghan licked his lips, grinning. “That’s why you taste so sweet.”
Seungcheol groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You mean to tell me you’ve been ambushing me with kisses all day because of my chap stick?”
“Not just the chap stick.” Jeonghan leaned closer, voice dropping to a playful murmur. “But it helps.”
“You could literally buy your own tube.”
“But then,” Jeonghan said, stealing another kiss, “I wouldn’t have an excuse to do this.”
Over the next few days, the “kisses for flavor” routine only escalated. Jeonghan became a hunter, stalking Seungcheol around the apartment for his cherry vanilla fix. He’d catch him at the sink, foaming toothbrush in hand; while cooking dinner, spatula mid-flip; even once in the middle of a workout, when Seungcheol was too sweaty and breathless to fight him off.
Each time, Jeonghan would lean back, satisfied, and murmur, “Perfect. Still tastes like dessert.”
Seungcheol tried to be annoyed—he really did. But every time Jeonghan curled his lips into that mischievous smile before diving in again, annoyance melted into laughter, and laughter into another kiss.
Eventually, Seungcheol stopped keeping the chap stick in his nightstand. He left it on the coffee table instead, or tucked in his jacket pocket where he knew Jeonghan would see it.
Because if he was being honest—kisses stolen over cherry vanilla weren’t such a bad deal.