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Lee Donghyuck wakes up with strong arms wrapped around his torso. Oh, and also, there are legs locking his in place, too, so…yeah. There's that.
As a major consequence (not really; it’s cozy and super warm like this), he can’t turn around and face the love of his life. Those arms are not necessarily bulky or anything, but he has to admit that they do have one hell of a grip. It’s a miracle his chest still has room to rise and fall properly. And, the minor consequence? He can’t fucking move except for wriggling his toes, but that wouldn’t earn him his degree now, would it?
Donghyuck grunts a little, almost sleepily, as he tries to fruitlessly peel the arms off him, and apparently, it’s the wrong move because the arms tighten around his torso and his breath hitches. Well, shit. He’s even more stuck than before now.
“Baby,” he croaks out, and oh, God, that’s a bad idea because morning breath sucks. He just hopes the other won’t come up with a stupid comment about it. The other only hums—oh, thank heavens—before shifting slightly. His grip doesn’t budge, though. This time, Donghyuck emphasizes by slapping weakly on the arms, saying, “baby, I have an 8 a.m. class. Professor Jung would kill me if I don’t move it.”
A muffled answer follows after a while (Donghyuck almost falls back to sleep waiting for it), “your cute ass could only move so much before you strain them, baby,” and there’s an audible, high-pitched ‘ow’ right next to his ear when he elbows him right where it hurts the most: the rib. He learned about it because of that one time he accidentally elbowed the other on the rib and made him spill juice all over Donghyuck, which turned out to be a memorable first meeting for both parties, but Donghyuck, as a fussy little kid that he is, was having none of it. New Year's was wild. “It’s only 6 a.m. What’s the rush?”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes. Mark Lee is One Clingy Boy™ in the morning.
“The rush? I’ll tell you what’s the rush. The campus is thirty minutes away, and you know how long I can take when I shower. Not to mention that you are definitely going to insist me on having breakfast, too, so I’m gonna need two hours in advance if I don’t want to be on the tardy list,” he pauses to catch his breath before continuing, “again.”
You know what makes Donghyuck, the early bird, furious every time he talks to Mark, the night owl? The fact that he can’t function properly as a human being in the morning and give him a serious answer is what’s making his fuse shorter and shorter. This morning is no exception.
Mark chuckles—the audacity of this adorable creature!—and he can feel him grinning after landing a peck on his nape. “Professor Jung hates you that much, huh?” he says before nuzzling against his nape—which tickles so much Donghyuck has to squirm. “Would you like me, a totally unrelated bystander, to beg him to lay off so that you can have thirty minutes of—”
“Sounds like a desperate measure to me, but no,” Donghyuck says, rolling his eyes again so far out he might need to get his kidneys checked to see whether or not his eyeballs are there. “That could be a good strategy for some other time, but now, please get your hands off me. I need this degree, Mark.”
The older one grumbles in response before reluctantly taking his hands off Donghyuck. “Fine. I’ll let you go this one time just because you’re cute when you're angry,” he says whilst getting up to make breakfast. “Don’t take too long showering, all right? I’ll bother you on your exams if you demand me to reheat the pancakes again.”
Donghyuck feigns hurt as he also gets up, a dramatic hand on his chest. “I have and would never! Why would you accuse me of something so controversial?”
“Because it’s you. You often do that.”
“No, I don’t!”
“Yes, you do!”
“No, I—”
(They end up wrestling on the bed, so you bet your ass Donghyuck’s going to be late for his class!)