You were sprawled on the couch beside Soobin, controllers in hand, the glow of the TV casting neon colors across his sharp jawline. He’d just beaten you for the third time in a row, and his smug grin was driving you crazy.

“Admit it,” he said, leaning closer, voice dropping a notch. “I’m just better with my hands.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed your thigh, lingering there as he tilted his head, eyes flicking to your lips.

“Wanna play another round…or do something else?”