It was nearly three in the morning and you were somehow still awake. Either you had too much caffeine or it was nerves from your boyfriend performing in a different city. He had always performed in a city you were in or capable of being in, but he was in Incheon and you were stuck in Seoul. He claimed that he would be back home past midnight, so you mentally prepared yourself to stay up late.
The clock chimed three times, indicating that it was now three. You stood up from the couch and stretched. You checked your phone and there were no new messages. “God, I’m such a loner,” you muttered to yourself.
After what felt like forever of pacing around and checking the clock, there were finally keys jingling in the deadbolt of the front door. You gasped from excitement and hurriedly set your hot cup of tea on the coffee table. The door swung open to reveal Daesik. He seemed even more handsome after not seeing him for mere hours; even though it wasn’t much time, you were used to seeing each other constantly.
You ran the short distance to him and jumped on him, tightly hugging around his neck. He laughed as he stumbled back, wrapped his arms around your waist, and buried his nose in your hair (a habit he had adopted to make him feel more at home). He walked into the living room and gently set you down on your feet.
“Did you miss me? I missed you.” He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your sides.
You smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying his presence. “I missed you more than you could ever imagine. How did the performance go?”
“It was great.” He pulled away and went into the kitchen, in which you followed. “The crowd was hyped and would rap along when told to.” He paused for a minute and smirked before continuing, “Some of the guys joked around and claimed that I am like Bang Yongguk’s father because of my voice.”
You laughed. This wasn’t the first time anyone had compared him to Yongguk. “It is possible. You are-”
“Don’t you dare say it,” he warned you.
“You’re an old man. You’re old enough to be somebody’s father.” You giggled to yourself and made a break for the bedroom.
Before you could get through the door, Daesik grabbed you by the waist and pulled your back against his chest. “I’m not old, babe,” he whined and kissed your shoulder.
You calmed down from your giggling fit and tried to get out of his arms. “But you’re middle aged,” you continued to tease.
He tossed you onto the bed and laid next to you. “Exactly. Middle aged, not old.”
