@ikxminjae
it begins, as all days do, with sunlight: streaming in through otherwise shut blinds, licking horizontal stripes against entangled limbs and undone sheets –– nature’s own version of a lazy alarm. golden skin wraps around porcelain, the older’s arm draped around the trainee’s waist with a low sigh of contentment; bare skin, although not constant, is familiar, at the very least –– soft hands reach, tentatively, for his lover’s smaller ones, fingers intertwining with a lazy hum. physical affection is nothing new to taemin; he thrives on it, even more so if the object of said affection is the boy with crescent moon eyes and his heart in his hands. but each time he holds minjae, be it early morning or late at night, the idol can’t help but marvel at the way his lover’s frame is like sunlight, even long after the light has gone home.
there’s a quiet press, a brush of lips against the trainee’s shoulder, and already taemin feels the everglow, the lingering taste of minjae captivating his every sense. the idol takes a moment to gaze over at silver hair, washed in morning glory; his hand comes to stroke at lover’s locks with a tenderness he’s come to reserve for minjae alone.
another kiss, this time to the side of his face; “good morning,” taemin murmurs, lips curled upward in a smile so warm, voice so gentle.
( thinks: with you, it always is. )
