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Summary
“Morning,” Hyunjin says insouciantly.
“Fucking — time is it?”
“Dunno.” Changbin tilts his head as if to check; Hyunjin, whip-quick, reaches out to cup his cheek. He’d grab Changbin’s chin in earnest if he thought he needed to, but he has his wife well-trained. “Doesn’t matter.” Changbin lets his head be tilted by the barest pressure. His chin lifts when Hyunjin tugs at it, until he’s looking squarely at Hyunjin, only at Hyunjin, only his.