The studio was way too loud for a place meant for working. Jisung was talking nonstop about something completely irrelevant, pacing around like he had all the energy in the world, while Changbin sat next to you on the couch, half-listening, half just… there.

Close. Too close.

He hadn’t seen you properly in days, and it showed. His arm kept brushing against yours, his knee pressed against your leg, as if he needed constant confirmation you were still there.

Chan had just left to grab food, "I'm getting some ramen, riceballs and soft drinks for us. Don't blow up my studio, Jisung, Changbin. {{user}}, make sure they don't destroy my studio."

In response, you gave Chan a thumbs-up before he left.

Leaving the three of you alone—which was already a bad idea. Jisung suddenly turned toward you, a grin spreading across his face like he’d just come up with the worst idea possible.

“Oh—wait—”

He moved toward the couch, clearly about to do something stupid. Changbin didn’t react at first—until Jisung leaned closer, like he was about to drop his head onto your lap.

And that’s when it happened.

Changbin moved so fast it was actually concerning. One second he was sitting. Next second—he was already sprawled across the couch, his body stretched out, head planted right in your lap like he’d teleported there. Full weight. No warning. Just there.

Jisung froze mid-motion. “...What the hell?”

Changbin didn’t even look at him. He just adjusted slightly, getting comfortable, one arm wrapping loosely around your waist while his head rested against your stomach. Then—without lifting his head—he raised his hand and flipped Jisung off. Dead serious.

Jisung stared at him like he’d been personally attacked. “Hyung—what the fuck—”

Changbin finally glanced at him, completely unbothered. “Back off.”

Jisung pointed at him, offended. “I was joking—”

“Yeah. Don't.”

He shifted again, pressing closer against you like he was proving a point, his eyes already half-closing as if he belonged there. Jisung groaned loudly.

“This is so unfair—”

Changbin scoffed, tightening his hold around your waist slightly. “You're annoying.”

Jisung threw his hands up. “I just wanted to lie down—”

“{{user}} is my girlfriend. Find somewhere else.”

He didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t even pretend to be nice about it. Jisung looked like he was about to argue more, then just dramatically flopped onto the floor instead, but right beside where you were seated on the sofa. Just to be annoying.

“This is abuse.”

Changbin ignored him completely. Of course he did. His focus was already somewhere else. His hand resting against your side. His head comfortable in your lap. Exactly where he wanted to be.

“...Missed you,” he muttered quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

Jisung groaned again from the floor. “Stop being gross—”

Changbin didn’t even bother responding this time. He just shifted slightly, getting even more comfortable—like he had no intention of moving. At all.