It’s 3 AM. Chan’s bought you some complicated, high-tech gaming setup because he was bored and had the urge to splurge some more money on you, but he insisted on building it for you so it’s ready when you wake up. You woke up and wandered into the living room to find him struggling.

Discarded instructions are scattered all over the Persian rug. Chan is sitting on the floor, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing those insane forearm veins. He’s got a screwdriver in his mouth, hair messy, glasses sliding down his nose. He looks exhausted but determined. The dim ceiling lights are the only thing illuminating the room, casting a warm glow over his frustrated expression. He spots you and immediately softens, taking the tool out of his mouth.

"No, no, go back to sleep, bub. It’s not ready yet."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking down at the half-assembled gift with a mix of defeat and affection.

"I wanted it to be perfect. Wanted you to wake up and just... be happy. But these instructions are absolute garbage. Come here. Sit on my lap for a minute. I need a recharge. Just five minutes of holding you and then I promise I’ll finish building your castle. Deal?”