Work Text:
The sunlight shone through half-drawn curtains, the bedroom was filled with a gentle, warm glow. Illuminating the plethora of paintings that adorned the walls, the sun’s rays brought new life to various landscapes and the soft hues of the paint you had used. The walls were a testament to your ability to find and create art from the simplest things that most would take for granted.
You stirred, reluctant to finally emerge from the depths of slumber, yet the sounds of Jongho’s melodious voice filled the room. Even in his sleep, he unknowingly serenaded you, and your heart couldn’t help but race at the sudden sound of it. Looking at the alarm clock on your bedside table, you read the time. 5:18 AM.
Secured in your lover's embrace, you felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and safety. Home.
Relishing in his warmth, your bodies were entwined in a tangle of limbs. His grip was possessively tight as this was his way of cherishing you in his sleep—his unwillingness to ever let you go—it made you feel protected and treasured. You have always been impressed by the unceasing strength in his touch and found yourself wanting to linger within it.
With your senses fully awakened, you became acutely aware of the rhythmic cadence of his breath and the soft rise and fall of his chest against your back. His bare skin was pressed against yours, and it sent tingles throughout your body igniting a deep yearning to somehow get even closer to him. Along with the faintest trace of his cologne, you could smell his natural scent as it filled the air. Intertwining with the scent of their intimacy, it was warm and intoxicating. Nestling your head against the curve of his shoulder, you reveled in the softness of his skin against your cheek.
Your fingers delicately traced along the smooth contours of his arms that wrapped around you like a shield. Pressing tender kisses upon the hand that cradled you, you cherished every square inch of it—the pads of his fingertips, the peaks of his knuckles, and the warm center of his palm. Each kiss spoke to the depth of your love for him, and you found solace in the silent declarations you made to him. Gradually, you noticed the subtle relaxation in his grip; it was as if he was unconsciously responding to your gentle affection.
You reminisced on the countless times those hands had reached out to hold yours, to wipe away your tears, to massage you after long days, to lead you whilst you danced, and to leave love letters on his pillow before he left for early mornings. Delicately tracing small circles along his smooth skin, you leaned to press one last kiss on the top of his hand and whispered, “I love you,” into the stillness of the morning.
With caution to not disturb him from his slumber, you eventually freed yourself from his embrace. Standing by your bed, you took in the sight of your lover. From his wild, disheveled hair and his inviting, full lips to the mole on his neck that had been practically begging you to kiss it. The mere image of him made your heart swell as if it was calling you back into his arms.
Your gaze wandered toward the easel near the end of the bed, its red oak had been coated with the colorful remnants of your creativity. However, you had been in a creative rut for the past few months, and the curator of the gallery, which had requested your work, had been reminding you of the looming deadline for their upcoming exhibit. Even though you would typically find yourself painting landscapes or scenes that you would imagine, today felt different.
Turning back at Jongho, his features were breathtaking in the morning light and inspiration struck. He was the perfect muse that you had been waiting for. Grinning to yourself, you tiptoed to gather all of the painting supplies you would need. Gradually, you felt the reality of being away from his warmth in your movements.
You shivered and clutched at your bare body as you searched for something to gratify your need for warmth. Searching along the floor, you found the sweatshirt that he had torn off himself in the throes of passion from the night before. Gathering it into your arms, you slipped into the well-worn garment, bridging the gap between your bodies. You smiled as the scent of him filled your nose and the sweatshirt’s oversized sleeves went past your fingers.
Positioning the easel, you grabbed a blank canvas as you were eager to immortalize the sight before you. With each brushstroke, you sought to capture his essence—the sweet innocence of his sleeping eyes, the plushness of his slightly parted lips, the fluffiness of his hair.
Hours passed, and the outside world had long faded away from you. The scent of fresh paint filled the room, and your brush came to a halt. Stepping back, you took in the gentle yet vivid colors you had used. Jongho appeared as if he was an ethereal being, and the depths of your love were evident in each sweep of your paintbrush.
The sun had climbed high into the sky, and you could not help but return to his side. Gently brushing your fingers through the strands of his hair, you first pressed a kiss to his forehead. You felt your heart blossom at the familiar feeling of his warm skin against your lips, and you watched as his deep brown eyes fluttered open.
“Good morning, my love,” you whispered, “I couldn’t resist waking you up.”
Jongho’s gaze shifted from your eyes to the faint smudges of paint on your skin, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he raised his hand to trace the marks with his fingertips. “What’s this? Did you start your work without me?” He teased, “I know you’re not one to get up so early.”
You laughed, and his hands guided your face towards him, pressing his lips to yours as he lured you closer to him. “You caught me. My new muse unknowingly provided me with the inspiration I needed.” You watched in amusement as his curiosity grew, wanting to unravel what was your new source of inspiration. “He looks an awful lot like you actually.”
“Oh really?” He smirked and eyed at the sweatshirt that you were wearing. Pulling you closer, he peppered kisses along your temple and cheek. Some of the nearly dried paint on your face had transferred to his lips, and you smiled down at him.
“It’s time to get up,” you whispered, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Jongho pouted. “Just a few more minutes.”
You sighed, yet you couldn’t help but smile. “As tempting as that sounds, we have a whole day ahead of us. But,” you began, “it is the weekend, so we can spend it however we like.” Trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, there was still a hint of reluctance on his face. Despite that, he looked at you with wide eyes which were filled with love, and his resolve softened. “And I have a few ideas on how we can spend it.”
Loosening his grip, he watched as you slipped out of his embrace and took his hands. “Tell me.” he grinned lazily.
“How about you come with me to the shower and find out?” You giggled, motioning for him to join you.
A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he no longer relented to staying in bed. Without hesitation, he allowed you to guide him toward the bathroom. The sound of laughter filled the air between the kisses he stole along the way.