Includes male pregnancy
The first thing Minho noticed when he woke up was the dull, persistent ache in his lower body. He groaned, rolling over only to immediately regret it.
"Ow..." he mumbled into his pillow, his face scrunching up as the soreness hit him full force.
The memories of last night flooded back, and his cheeks burned a bright crimson. It had been... intense, loving, and everything he'd hoped for. But no one had warned him about the aftermath.
By the time Minho shuffled into the kitchen, the rest of his boyfriends were already up, chatting and cooking breakfast.
"Good morning, Min!" Felix greeted cheerfully, only to falter when he saw Minho's stormy expression. "Uh... or not?"
Minho didn't respond, instead plopping down into the nearest chair with a wince.
Hyunjin, ever the tease, smirked knowingly. "Aw, is our Minho sore?"
"Don't," Minho snapped, glaring at him.
The entire room fell silent for a beat before Han burst into laughter. "Oh my god, you're grumpy because your butt hurts!"
"Shut up," Minho muttered, his face buried in his hands.
"Hey, don't tease him," Chan scolded gently, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He walked over and placed a comforting hand on Minho's shoulder. "You okay, baby?"
Minho peeked up at him, pouting. "No. I'm sore. And you're all to blame."
Changbin choked on his coffee, trying not to laugh. "All of us?"
"Yes," Minho grumbled. "Every single one of you."
"Alright, no more teasing," Chan declared, clapping his hands. "Minho needs some TLC."
"I'll get the ice pack," Seungmin offered, heading to the freezer.
"I'll make him his favorite pancakes," Felix added, already pulling out ingredients.
Jeongin smirked, leaning on the counter. "Should we carry him everywhere today? Maybe we can rent a wheelchair."
Minho shot him a death glare. "Try it, and I'll make you sore."
Jeongin snickered but wisely backed off.
"Don't worry, Min," Hyunjin said, sliding into the chair next to him. "We'll take good care of you today."
"You better," Minho muttered, crossing his arms.
By mid-morning, Minho's grumpiness had softened thanks to the overwhelming attention. He was sprawled out on the couch, a heating pad on his lower back, while his boyfriends fussed over him.
"More juice?" Felix asked, holding up a glass.
"No."
"Another pillow?" Changbin offered.
"No."
"Do you want me to massage—" Hyunjin started, only for Minho to cut him off with a glare. "Don't even think about it."
The others chuckled, but Minho couldn't stay mad for long. Every time he looked up, one of them was there, checking on him, bringing him snacks, or just sitting with him to keep him company.
As much as his pride didn't want to admit it, he felt loved—completely and undeniably loved.
By the time the day ended, Minho's soreness had eased, and his grumpiness was mostly gone.
