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Summary
As he drags a hand over his face, he picks up on the sound of voices, hushed just outside his door.
“—supposed to have one for another month at least.” It’s Seungmin, Changbin realizes quickly, and he sounds frantic in a way that is uncharacteristic for him. It makes the whine Changbin had swallowed down tickle at the back of his throat. He wants to soothe Seungmin, to quell his worries, to wrap himself around him and chase away his anger with his mouth at his scent glands, to present himself — face down, ass up, hole dripping and ready.
“Yes, I know, but we’ll worry about that later—” It’s Chan this time, voice muffled but firm through the door. “—For now, we need to help him, yeah? When he wakes up, he’ll want you there, so are you going to take care of him or not?”
When Changbin can’t find his suppressants, it’s the perfect nudge he and Seungmin need.