Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

One pudding, two spoons and three cats

Minho's suitcase wheels rolled quietly down the hallway as he approached the apartment door, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs—but anticipation still heavier in his chest. He fumbled with the keypad out of habit, but the soft beep-beep of the passcode brought the first real smile to his face all day.

He tried calling Hyejin from the airport. It had gone straight to voicemail.

Good. She was probably asleep.

And when the door clicked open and he stepped inside, the sight that greeted him made his heart flip.

There she was.

Hyejin—curled up on the couch, their three cats snuggled around her like the softest, sleepiest security guards. Soonie lay across her ankles, Doongie pressed against her side, and Dori was perched possessively on her stomach like a purring loaf. She was wearing one of his black oversized shirts—nothing else visible underneath—and her legs were bare, tangled in a throw blanket, one arm half-draped off the edge of the couch.

The TV was still softly playing some late-night black and white movie, the volume low. The glow flickered over her face, peaceful and soft, her lips slightly parted in sleep.

Minho dropped his bag by the door and walked quietly across the room, every bit of him aching to hold her.

He crouched first in front of the couch, careful not to wake anyone, and reached out to gently scratch behind Soonie's ears. Then Doongie. Then Dori.

Finally, his hand hovered above her cheek.

He brushed her hair out of her face and leaned in slowly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

She stirred with the gentlest hum, eyelashes fluttering open, disoriented for a moment. And then her eyes met his.

"Minho?" she whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

That lazy, sleepy smile bloomed across her face as recognition settled in.

"You're back..."

She reached up, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down into her, clutching him tight like he might disappear.

Minho let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, burying his face into her neck. "God, I missed you," he murmured, voice muffled as he kissed the crook of her neck, then again, and again.

They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, bodies fitting together like they'd been separated too long.

And then Minho pulled back with a wicked glint in his eye.

Without warning, he stood up, hands under her thighs as he scooped her off the couch.

"Min—!" she squealed, giggling as he spun her around in the middle of the living room, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

He laughed, breathless, before setting her down gently on the kitchen counter.

And then he kissed her.

⚠️ Suggestive scene ahead (not that much it's just making out)⚠️

Not soft. Not teasing.

It was slow and deep and desperate, all teeth and tongue and breath, like he was trying to memorize her all over again. His hands found her waist beneath his shirt—his shirt—and she shivered against the marble surface, tugging him closer, closer, closer.

"I missed you," she whispered into his mouth.

"I missed you more," he replied, between kisses. "You have no idea."