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Characters: boyfriend!Hanbin & you

Setting: canonverse

Genre: fluff,  slice of life

Words: 1k

Summary:  When they ask why Sundays are your favourites, this is your answer.

I just couldn’t help myself, I’m really soft for Hanbin and I love his tattoos.

Lazy Sundays are your favourites.

Not just because there’s no school, no work but because on these days you always wake up with Hanbin next to you. After staying too late in the studio, he tends to crush at your place rather than going all the way back to the dorm. For the first few times you were awakened at dawn by your ringtone (his voice), opening the door for him and falling asleep too soon to your liking while he took a quick shower. You didn’t mind it because you could sleep in anyway and you got your cuddles and kisses in the morning. But Hanbin kept insisting that he didn’t want to bother you or mess up your sleep schedule. That’s when you gave him keys to your flat, so he could let himself in and slip right into the bed beside you. Being a heavy sleeper you barely registered his presence then, quickly slipping away from reality in his embracing arms.

Ever since then you wake up tucked close to another warm body at least once a week and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Today Hanbin is on his stomach with his back to you. He has left his sleeveless undershirt and plaid shirt hanging on a chair close-by like he always does. He used to leave them on the floor in the dark which proved to be quite dangerous whenever you wanted to sneak out to make breakfast. So it’s just another proof of his consideration and care that he puts them away now.

You yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and turning to the bedstand to check on the time, you note that it’s still too early. Too early to get out of the bed on a Sunday, so you fall back into the sheets and pillows. Lying on one side you watch as Hanbin’s upper body rises and falls slightly with each breath and it’s inevitable to notice the wavy motions of his painting-like tattoo coming alive right in front of your eyes. You have seen it countless of times already but it never feels enough, you fall in love with its art (him) each and every day. You can’t help it, it’s like gravitation, the pull that leads your hand onto his smooth back, fingers dancing over the ripped muscles of his lean back.

Tracing the ink lines of the tattoo, admiring the vibrant colours, the curves of the balloons and the details of the little paper airplane, you explore something new each time you can marvel at it so openly and unbothered. It must have hurt, you have always wondered, all those tiny dots, but they say beauty always has a price and there’s no art without agony.

In the meantime, your fingers live a life on their own, searching for any rift on the pretty map or a flaw on the canvas of an artist. Pressing on the lines of the tattoo, your should-have-been-momentary touch lingers maybe a tad bit too long. Nails scratching on the skin gently, you hear your boyfriend let out a content hum, then his body tenses and relaxes right away as sleep washes out of his body.

“You love it that much, huh?” Hanbin grumbles, voice heavy with sleep and distorted by mumbling it into the pillow.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, barely holding back the other confession balancing on the tip of your tongue: and so are you.

It’s no lie, Hanbin looks good without any makeup on, with circles under his eyes and even with bedridden hair. You have never been one for tattoos, never cared but ever since you got a glance of his, they keep attracting your eyes like magnets. As if on cue, your gaze eventually traces back to the colorful tattoo symbolizing his hopes and dreams and while you adore its meaning, you love the way it’s carved into Hanbin’s skin even more. He keeps saying the pain he pays for getting inked is nowhere near what he had been going through to get there and knowing how hard and relentlessly he works, you don’t question him whenever he decides to get marked once again.

“I love it because it’s a part of you,” you whisper, pressing the softest kiss on the myriad of colours on his bladebone. You hear him mumbling something about being cheesy but after writing so many songs about you, he really has no right to call you out. According to his friends, you’re both sappy, period.

Your fingers brush against his Nihilism tattoo on the front as he turns around and you can’t help but be reminded how much you love the way his muscles move under your touch.

“Morning,” Hanbin smiles up at you gently, a hand finding your waist over the nightgown.

“Morning,” you mimic him, hair falling into your face like a curtain and Hanbin reaches up to brush it behind your ear. Propping himself up to the elbows he presses a chaste kiss to your lips, morning breaths be damned. You smile into it even more, enjoying the small pace, the contentment and the quiet tranquillity of the morning.

Just so it won’t be left out, your hands run up and down on Hanbin’s chest until they settle on the three lines on his side, the last one of them disappearing under the band of his underwear you hook your fingers into.

“Don’t tease,” he hisses at you playfully which makes you giggle.

“I’m gonna make breakfast, ok?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck for a moment and then, despite how hard it is to do so, you pull yourself away from him.

Having put on his shirt with sleeves too long that’s enveloping your nightgown covered figure, you look back at him from the door admiring the way his tanned chest creates a pretty contrast against the white sheets just like the black lines over his skin do.

“I love you,” Hanbin calls after you affectionately, out of nowhere and you can’t get enough of it either. No matter how many times you have heard him saying, it never gets old. You turn away with a rosy blush after whispering it back to him.

So that’s why Sunday mornings are your favourites.