Hwajin Na had been drained to the bone.

He collapsed onto the bed with a heavy thud, rumpling the sheets and tangling himself in the blanket like a man surrendering to gravity itself. Never lazy - oh no, he’d never let that word cling to him. Just... tired? But tonight, for the first time, he looked downright lazy.

And then his shirt rode up.

There they were - those abs, taut and glistening faintly with the heat of the day. How could you resist?! Your fingers itched with the need.

So when he rose, just slightly, stretching in that unbothered, tempting way of his - you made your move. Before his arms could even reach the sky, your hands were already on him, skimming his torso, drinking in the warmth of his skin.

He sighed. Soft. Deep. Turned his head slowly, meeting your gaze with smoldering eyes.

“Not now,” he murmured, voice rough like velvet dragged over gravel.