Despite the cool breeze filtering through the windows, the sheets stuck to Kris's body, clinging to his calves and holding his thighs hostage. If his nerves weren't still hypersensitive from the first round of tender, slow lovemaking followed by the rather destructive second round, he might not have felt the fringe of hair against his forehead as a gentle kiss was placed against his temple.

"Suho?"

"Go back to sleep, love."

"Mmf," Kris groaned into the pillow as he lifted his head. "Where're you goin'?"

"Running."

"Why?"

"Because I can." Suho chuckled at the picture Kris made and he must have been a sight: sheet falling and catching on the curve of his hip, hair sticking up at odd angles, an oddly content, well-ed grin gracing his not-quite-awake face.

He flopped back down onto the pillow in a most undignified manner and blindly reached an arm out for Suho, flailing it around until he connected with the other man's torso. Suho laughed again and took hold of his hand.

"Something else you needed?"

"Just you," he mumbled. "Don't be long."

Another kiss against his head. "I won't. Not when I have this waiting for me in my bed."

"My bed. Our children are in yours."

"My bed. Your bed. Same difference."

Kris gave a sleepy grunt in response and by the time he opened his eyes for the second time that morning, Suho was back, freshly showered, and propped up against the headboard as he read the morning paper.

"Honestly, Kris. I didn't realize I had worn you out so much. We must work on your stamina."