Seung-joon sat cross-legged on the floor, his breathing heavy as Min-jun carefully wiped the sweat from his brow. Seung-joon's half-lidded gaze remained fixed on Min-jun, a playful heat in his eyes that made Min-jun's face burn red. The moment between them felt unspoken but heavy with affection, and Min-jun's hand trembled slightly under Seung-joon's seductive stare.
"Oh my god. Get a room, you two," Tae-min groaned from the other side of the room.
"Let them be," Chang-min murmured, his voice hoarse from exhaustion, his head comfortably resting in Taemin's lap.
"Are you sure you don't need anything for your throat?" Tae-jon asked, fanning himself with a towel, his brow furrowed with concern.
"It'll be fine by tomorrow morning, no worries," Chang-min assured him, though his voice cracked slightly.
"I'm not taking any chances. I'll force-feed you medicine if I have to. No way you're ruining the show for us all," Tae-min said, poking Chang-min's forehead with a playful grin.
