𝗕𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗢𝗠 𝗬𝗨𝗧𝗔 𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦! ♡

✎ coming home (winwin)

returning home from work, eyebags visibly with just one glance, lips chapped, but his eyes still up, alive and kicking, probably because of the copious amounts of coffee that he drank later that day, when he was about to finish his monthly report. His clad blue suit suffocating him in each second, the thick black, leather briefcase getting heavier each step he took, filled with incoherent papers that he'll probably have a difficult time skimming through. unlocking the wooden door after using multiple keys, which he took an embarrassingly long time, as the door clicks, heels clicking on the floor, pulling his tie to loosen it up a bit, taking off his coat, promptly placing it on the coat hanger beside the door, and removed his black leather shoes that produces a loud click every step he took.

walking around, settling down his suitcase in a nearby coffee table, stretching his back, wincing as he hears a loud pop from his back as he arches and reclines his arms, waving it around in circular motions. why do i have to be such a corporate slave? Why can't i just be Jaehyun who smokes weed but still gets money from his sugar daddy, what was his name again? ― youho? youngho, probably that. lucky bastard

he looks around, finally noticing the eerie silence in the house, which was unusual, unusual was an understatement. every time he came home after a grueling shift sponsored only by his undeniably handsome but sadistic boss, lee taeyong. he would come home to either 1. yuta sprawled around the floor, cans, and packets of ships surrounding him, resulting in him scolding yuta for the 45th time but always ended up cleaning it up after, or 2.yuta comfortably situated in their familiar white coach, head buried in books and papers, the light of his laptop illuminating his face, as he stares into space, he sometimes furiously types once in a while. probably writing a story.

going to their bedroom to change, he can closely someone whining, probably yuta. leaning closer to the door, "yep definitely yuta", he mutters to himself, he carefully opens the door, leaving a small crack to see what the fucking hell was yuta doing.

he pokes his head into the room, and sees yuta hunched over his hand, still in his pajamas which consisted of sicheng's shirt that he has promptly stolen, which was too big for him considering their height difference and muscle mass, the shirt hanging low in his shoulders revealing his collars bones and leaving his neck bared ― which sicheng found hot and cute at the same time ― some black short shorts that he found while rummaging in his closet 5 months ago, and has now declared "the revolutionary, life-changing shorts that the world needs to hear about", his blond hair disheveled, sticking all-around the place as if he stuck up a fork up in an electric outlet and got electrocuted.

"you good, babe?"

yuta bangs his head onto the bed table frustratedly and aggressively hits the backspace bar in his MacBook, deleting several written paragraphs. crawling in his sicheng's direction, slipping a few times due to the sea-like blankets indulging him and the numerous pillows and plushies surrounding him. now standing up, "hug" he says, stretching out his arms, a big adorable pout resting on his face.

sicheng takes the cue, and lets himself in, unbuttoning some buttons since it was too hot for him, and sat beside the male, the latter coming close to him. sicheng with ease, easily lifting like he didn't even weigh a feather. promptly sitting down in their shared bed

yuta slightly landing on his lap, legs instinctively wrapped his legs around the latter, straddling him, immediately hooking his arms on the taller's neck, burying his head on his shoulders, sicheng patting his back, his other hand hoisted on the smaller narrow waist for support, and bounces him a little using his right leg like a child. his stare immediately went soft seeing his husband's state. "are you tired, baby?", he asks gently, yuta humming in confirmation into his chest.