Comfort: the ability to simply be without worry or awkwardness ~

It was a cool, blustery morning, complete with a sprinkling of rain.

Key was appropriately snuggled in bed, having some down with a cold, and seemed to have made something akin to a mountain next to his bed from his tissues.

Minho was tucked into bed beside him, supporting his head with a muscular shoulder to help him breath through his stuffy nose.

Key mumbled something unintelligible, then cracked open one eye. The other eye opened, creating an anxious expression.

"Shh," the taller boy murmured, hugging his shoulders. "It's okay."

The blonde's features softened as he leaned into the embrace, burying his face in his chest. "What time is it?" he croaked, voice raspy from underuse.

The brunette glanced at the clock, noting the flashing numbers. "About noon," he replied, leaning his head atop the other's. "We don't have to get up yet."

The smaller boy sighed contentedly, closing his eyes. "Good." 

They lapsed into comfortable silence, more than happy to soak in the other's presence.

Minho and Key were comfortable.

We were due for an update ~