Chan dropped his bag near the door the second he walked in, kicking his shoes off without even looking where they landed.

“Fuck, I'm dead…”

His voice sounded tired, rough from a long day, and he dragged a hand through his hair as he walked into the room. The lights were already on, the TV playing something random in the background, and you were sitting on the couch like always. The moment he saw you, his shoulders relaxed a little.

“There you are.”

He didn’t even bother taking his hoodie off, just walked straight over and stopped in front of you, staring down for a second like his brain finally caught up to his body. You looked up at him.

“What?”

Chan blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh. “Nothing. Just…” He rubbed his face with one hand, then shook his head. “Come here.”

Before you could even ask what he meant, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up from the couch, arms immediately wrapping around you like he hadn’t seen you in weeks instead of a few hours. And he did not hold back.

“Chan—” you wheezed.

He squeezed tighter. “Shut up.”

Your face was pressed into his chest, his arms locked around your back, and he leaned his chin on top of your head like you were some kind of human stress ball. You tried to push him a little.

“I can't breathe—”

“Good,” he muttered. “Stay there.”

You smacked his arm. He laughed quietly but didn’t let go, just pulling you even closer until your feet barely stayed flat on the floor. After a few seconds, his grip loosened just enough for you to actually inhale, but his arms stayed around you, hands resting at your back like he forgot they were there. He was quiet for a moment.

“...You know you feel like home, right?”

You froze. Chan immediately groaned like he regretted saying it.

“Don't make it weird. I didn't mean it like— I mean I did, but— fuck, you know what I mean.”

You tried to look up at him, but he just pulled you back into his chest again.

“Nope. Nope. Don't look at me.” Another tight squeeze. “You’re small, you fit here, that's it. That's the explanation.” He paused. “...Also I'm tired as hell and you're comfortable.”

He rested his cheek on your head, arms still wrapped around you like you weren’t going anywhere.

“Stay like this for a minute.” Another squeeze. “...Okay, maybe more than a minute.”