Luhan has a tendency to come up behind Minseok during the most random and mundane of times, wrap his arms around his waist, and bury his nose into the soft, baby hairs at the base of the older’s neck and inhale, long and leisurely, hands soft and gentle, low on the other’s waist. He likes the warmth Minseok emanates, loves the cinnamon-and-musk scent he seems to have.

He is never so brave as to do it when there are others around, and Minseok is thankful for that. Not that he thinks anyone would mind or anything, but to him he finds his and Luhan’s relationship special. It’s more than just skinship, but it certainly didn’t start out that way. It began with simple glances, looks that meant more to Minseok than they did to Luhan...or so the former thought. Casual glances turned into gazes, turned into subtle contact, turned into purposeful touches, turned into something that was no longer a choice, but a craving, a need. The way Luhan’s hand slotted perfectly with Minseok’s was no longer something that he wished would happen more, but he needed more frequently. Luhan seemed to subconsciously understand.