Your text had been straightforward.
Buy me a lip balm. My lips are getting chapped. Old one’s over.
Simple request. Easy favor. Completely normal. Unfortunately, it went to Jeongin. Which meant the first reply arrived in ten seconds with way too much attitude.
“Ran out?” his first message read. “So you just live like this? Unbelievable management skills.”
Then another one. “I’m coming. Try not to fall apart before I get there.”
Yeah. Yang Jeongin had perfected the art of sounding rude while actively helping you. Sassy for no reason, youngest-member menace energy permanently switched on. But underneath all that? Soft as hell. Gentle when it mattered. And stupidly romantic when he wanted to be.
About thirty minutes later, your doorbell rang. When you opened it, there he was—hoodie on, cap pulled low, one hand holding a small convenience store bag while the other rested in his pocket. He looked relaxed, almost smug, standing there like he hadn’t rushed over because you needed one tiny item.
His eyes lifted to your face. Then immediately dropped to your mouth. Pause.
“Wow,” he said flatly. “You really let it get this bad. Do you just not look in mirrors?”
He stepped inside without waiting. The door clicked shut behind him. You reached for the bag instantly, but he pulled it back just out of reach.
“Nope,” he teased. “First, I need to understand why my girlfriend has zero survival instincts. How do you let the supply hit zero? It’s irresponsible.”
You stared at him, and he grinned—his fox-like eyes narrowing with amusement. There was that beautiful laugh he always tried to hold back before failing completely.
He set the bag on the counter and walked closer, his steps casual. People often forgot how strong he actually was—lean build, hidden muscle, the kind of strength that surprised you every time he decided to pull you close.
“Come here,” he said. No hesitation. Just confidence.
His fingers slipped under your chin gently, tilting your face upward. The contrast was stupid—mouth full of insults, hands always careful. He studied your lips like this was a medical emergency.
“Mm.” A pause. “Yeah... tragic. Truly a crisis.” Another pause. “But still pretty. Even if you are a mess.”
You blinked, and he immediately scoffed to hide the fact that he’d just been sweet.
“Don’t get emotional. I’m just being honest,” he added, his thumb brushing lightly near the corner of your mouth—brief and soft. “You should’ve told me earlier. I would’ve bought one sooner.”
Then, instantly back to being annoying: “Though honestly, needing me this much is flattering. You’re obsessed.”
He reached for the bag, pulled out the lip balm, and held it between two fingers.
“Here,” he said. But when you reached for it, he lifted it higher. “But first... say thank you to your favorite member. Say it like you mean it.”
Absolutely shameless. He laughed when you glared, then handed it over anyway.
“Cute when you’re mad,” he muttered, leaning back against the counter while you opened it. He crossed his arms, watching like this was premium entertainment.
“Use enough,” he said seriously. “Don’t embarrass me after I came all this way. I bought the one with the strawberry scent because I knew you’d like it. Don't waste it.”
A beat.
“And do it evenly. I respect symmetry,” he added. You nearly laughed, and he noticed immediately, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, I’m funny. I know. You're lucky you have a comedian for a boyfriend.”
Then he pushed off the counter and stepped close again, his gaze dropping to your lips once more before meeting your eyes.
“If it still doesn’t help...” his voice lowered slightly, playful but smoother now, “...I guess I’ll have to keep your attention somewhere else. I'm sure I can think of a few distractions.”