FOURTEEN Jaeyong is a great pillow, warm and cuddly, his clothes smelling like fresh laundry detergent and some sort of cologne that makes me want to inhale and inhale, and maybe roll around in it, too, like it’s some weird version of Raleigh-nip, if there was ever a scent that would make me lose my ever-loving mind. So it’s a surprise to no one that I fall asleep, eyes drooping closed as I’m pressed to his front, somehow also pressed into the back of the couch so one hip is stuck in the cushions, having thrown a leg over both of his, cheek pressed to his chest, moving up and down with every single breath he takes. I’m totally warm and cozy even if it feels like I’m crushing him, but I trust him to tell me if he’s uncomfortable, and he hasn’t said anything, so… I’m in that half-sleep, h

