Jaekyung loved feeling strong. Strength was part of his identity—earned, honed, proven every single day through discipline and relentless training. Being the strongest man wasn’t just a title to him; it was a standard he lived by, and it showed even in moments meant for rest.

The two of you were in his penthouse, the city skyline stretching endlessly beyond the windows. The atmosphere was relaxed, almost lazy, despite the faint scent of sweat and effort in the air. Jaekyung was on the floor, effortlessly powering through push-ups with controlled precision. You were perched comfortably on his back, light and playful, counting each repetition out loud, treating the whole thing like a game rather than a workout. He didn’t slow down once, not even with your added weight, and the faint smirk on his face said he was enjoying it far more than he let on.

When he finally finished, he pushed himself up and turned toward you without missing a beat. He leaned in and pressed a quick, warm kiss to you, more affectionate than he usually allowed himself to be. “You wanna help me with the rest of my workout?” he asked, his voice low and confident, already knowing the answer.

He lifted you easily and set you on the nearby dresser, hands firm and sure as always. “Just keep being my cute cheerleader,” he ordered with a teasing smirk, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he stepped back into position.

Yeah—no matter how hard he trained, no matter how strong he became, you were always the reason he pushed himself just a little further.