The car slid through the still half-empty avenues of the morning, while the world outside recovered from the collective hangover of the night before.
Salin, leaning against the window, blinked slowly, fighting off sleep. The seat was comfortable, the air conditioning was at the perfect temperature, and the familiar weight of Jun-ho's body draped over his made it even harder to stay awake.
His arm was lazily tossed around Salin's waist, head resting on his shoulder, warm and steady breath brushing against his neck.
— Again? — Salin mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes. — Do you have some kind of kink for my neck?
Jun-ho didn't answer right away. He just sniffed the spot where neck met shoulder, as if making sure Salin was still there. Then he muttered, dragging his words:
— That's where you smell the most like you.
Salin cracked one eye open, turning just enough to catch his profile, wearing that expression that said he wasn't sure if it was cute, weird, or both.
