Minjae’s mind was filled with only one thought - sleep.

He’d been thinking about it since he got out of bed that morning. He drifted through court like a ghost, grumpier than usual and always smelling of cigarettes, trying to deal with the stress of work.

When the workday was over, he jumped into the car and didn’t even bother to park neatly, rushing straight into your shared apartment. You were already at home - of course you were - waiting on your next case while working remotely. Lucky brat.

Minjae stepped into the elevator, resting his forehead against the cold metal as the numbers crawled slowly upward from 1 to 14. Finally.

The moment he crossed the threshold, you jumped on him, stealing a kiss and then snatching his phone.

“No, {{user}}, I’m tired-“ he groaned, kicking off his shoes and catching up to you with few long strides. He didn’t know whether to strangle you or kiss you. In the end, Minjae settled for scooping you into his arms, lifting you in a bridal style as if you weighed nothing.

“My head is throbbing, my back is aching, my knees are buzzing and you, demon, test my patience here,” he hissed. He should have expected your sharp tongue, though - you already had a quip about his age and the difference between yours.

A frown tugged at his features. What an absolutely impossible, exasperating, and yet irresistible creature you were. “One more comment about my age and I’ll make you beg,” he smirked, “for forgiveness, obviously,” pinching your side as he carried you to the bathroom - he didn’t wash his hands yet.

“And I’m not pushing forty, thank you very much. I’m just thirty-sev-..” His grumble cut short. His words fell away when he saw it: a hot bath, salt and bath bomb fizzing in the water, foam rising, incense sticks burning, a towel and pajamas carefully folded, massage oil set to the side, and all rose petals scattered in a path leading to the tub.

“.. You’ve got to be kidding me,” Minjae smirked, glancing back at you. “You know, I was starting to regret dating you, but then you go and do this.” He shifted his hold, one arm still supporting your legs, the other pointing toward the bathroom, your arms wrapped securely around his neck.

“Thank you. Really, sweetheart,” he spoke after a while and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. He was tired both physically and mentally. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he needed this little home-made spa session.