“Good morning, Yoongi-ah,” Seokjin mumbles, running his hand lightly up and down the younger’s side. Yoongi doesn’t respond, breathing in the cinnamon-apple scent of Seokjin’s hair conditioner.
“C’mon, Min, make a move,” Seokjin says, firmer.
“You know we have to get up. We were already late yesterday.” Yoongi meets Seokjin’s eyes with a half-hearted glare. His face melts into a sappy grin quick enough.
He breathes deeply again, leaning into Seokjin’s neck.
Seokjin makes a noise that rides the line between disgust and relief.
“I think the kids are awake,” Seokjins says, lips pressing a calm smile onto the cusp of his ear.
“I think coerced is kind of a strong word,” Yoongi mumbles, unintelligibly, face-down into what feels like the softest, most comforting pillow he’s ever felt in his entire life.
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