The movie had been playing for at least twenty minutes. Changbin had no idea what was going on. Not because it was boring—but because he stopped paying attention the second he got comfortable.

Which, unfortunately for you, meant he had decided you were his personal pillow. He shifted beside you on the couch, then without warning, just dropped sideways until his head landed on your thighs. Like that was the most natural thing in the world. A quiet sigh left him immediately.

“Yeah… this is better.”

He adjusted slightly, getting comfortable, one arm thrown lazily across his stomach while the other rested near your leg. The snack bowl was still in your hands. He glanced up at it. Then at you. Then back at the bowl.

“...Feed me.”

No shame. None. You didn’t move fast enough, apparently. He clicked his tongue softly, nudging your leg with his head.

“I'm serious. I can't reach from here.”

He absolutely could. He just didn’t want to. After a second, he opened his mouth slightly, waiting. When you finally gave in, he smirked a little, eyes half-lidded as he chewed.

“See? Not that hard.”

He settled deeper into your lap, shifting so he was even more comfortable, like he planned to stay there for the rest of the night. The movie kept playing in the background. Ignored. His attention was somewhere else entirely.

Another piece of snack. Another lazy bite. His hand moved slightly, resting against your leg, fingers tapping absentmindedly.

“...You're way too comfortable,” he muttered. A pause. Then quieter: “...Don't move.”

He closed his eyes for a second, clearly more focused on this than anything on the screen.

“Just keep feeding me.”

And judging by the way he relaxed completely—he wasn’t planning on getting up anytime soon.