Jisung

The dorm room was quiet, with only the rustle of pages filling the space. Minho sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning back against the wall, entirely focused on his reading under the warm light of the desk lamp.

The bathroom door clicked open, and Jisung walked out, haphazardly drying his hair with a small towel. He was already wearing a pair of loose sweatpants, completely ignoring the water droplets he was tracking across the floor. The moment he spotted Minho, he headed straight for the bed.

Minho felt the mattress dip but didn't look up – he was entirely used to his boyfriend invading his personal space. But Jisung wasn't going to just sit next to him. He crawled closer, snatched the book straight out of Minho's hands, and tossed it casually onto the nightstand.

Before Minho could even protest, Jisung dropped his weight forward, burying his face right into Minho's chest. His damp hair instantly started soaking through the dry cotton of Minho’s clean t-shirt.

— Hey, I was actually reading that, Minho sighed, though his hand instinctively came up to card through Jisung’s wet strands.

Jisung tilted his head up to look at him, entirely unapologetic.

— You’ve been staring at paper for two hours, Jisung muttered, wrapping an arm around Minho's waist and dragging himself even closer. — It's my turn.

Minho couldn't help the fond smile that slipped onto his face. It was always a funny contrast – the guy who acted so loud and untouchable all day was now soaking up attention like a cat who’d never admit it was purring.

— Fine, Minho agreed, gently scratching the back of Jisung's neck. — You're getting my shirt completely wet, though.

— Deal with it, Jisung mumbled, closing his eyes and letting out a long, content breath.