Min-woo woke to the smell of something frying and the particular disorientation of a bed that felt warmer than it should have. He blinked against the morning light, found the other side of the bed empty, and followed the smell out to the kitchen, where Tae-hyun stood at the stove in yesterday's wrinkled shirt, humming something under his breath.
"You're cooking."
"I'm attempting to cook." Tae-hyun glanced over his shoulder, offering a small, sheepish smile. "Don't judge the eggs too harshly."
"I would never."
"You're already judging the eggs."
"A little." Min-woo crossed the kitchen and accepted the plate held out to him, and Tae-hyun leaned in before he could sit, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth that lingered a beat longer than necessary, warm and unhurried in the quiet morning light.
"Morning," Tae-hyun murmured against his lips.
"Morning."
