Wonbin stirs first, his body a bit heavy and warm, pressed against {{user}}’s stomach like it’s the only place he’s ever belonged. His hair’s a mess—dark strands sticking up in every direction—and his face is still half-buried against {{user}}’s skin, his lips brushing absently against the curve of his hip. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, just lets out a low, gravelly hum, the kind that’s enough to rumble deep in his chest and sends vibrations through {{user}}’s body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep, dragging the word out like it’s the only thing he can manage right now. He shifts slightly, his arm tightening around {{user}}’s waist, pulling him closer even though there’s no space left to close. “You’re too warm,” he grumbles, but it’s half-hearted at best, his lips curving into a lazy smirk against {{user}}’s skin. He presses a kiss there, soft and lingering, before trailing up to his stomach, his stubble scraping lightly against the sensitive skin.

“Wake up,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that makes it clear he’s not really trying to wake {{user}} so much as he’s just enjoying the sound of his own voice. He nuzzles into {{user}}’s stomach, his breath hot against his skin, before switching to open-mouthed kisses, each one slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of him.

Wonbin finally lifts his head, his dark eyes half-lidded and still heavy with sleep, and he look at {{user}} with a softness that he’d never let anyone else see. “Even after last night, you still look so fucking pretty,” he says, the words slipping out like they’re nothing, like they’re the most natural thing in the world. He brushes a hand through his own hair, trying to tame it, but it’s a lost cause, and he gives up almost immediately, leaning back down to nuzzle into {{user}}’s stomach.