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12:04 am

bang chan x reader fluff, established relationship; approx. 500 words; warnings: foot massage

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

It’s late. The hotel room is mostly quiet, save for the soft sounds of the television that plays in the background. You’re not really sure what’s on, some nature documentary, maybe. Neither of you are really watching it, anyway. 

You sit at one end of the couch, both of Chris’s feet in your lap. His skin is still soft from his shower. The adrenaline from the night’s concert has finally worn off, and things have calmed down as you wait for a text about the food you’d ordered earlier. 

He hisses as you press into a tight spot on the bottom of his foot. He’d gone into the concert knowing full well that he’d end up here by the end of the night—in so much pain he can barely stand, let alone walk—so you’d been prepared. His chronic pain is nothing new. But that doesn’t mean you don’t hate seeing him like this. 

“Sorry,” you apologize softly, easing up on the pressure just a bit. 

“Nah, it’s helping. Just-“ He inhales sharply through his teeth as you massage the inside of his foot. “Just fuckin’ sucks.”

“I know, baby.”

You reach into the box beside you and pull out one of the plastic-wrapped lidocaine patches you’d stolen from the group’s physical therapist. The patches aren’t very big, and you’ll need a few if you want to put them where they’ll be most effective. There’s three on his other foot already, and you know that this one is always worse. Thankfully, the box was full when you’d nabbed it. 

Gently, you use the pad of your thumb to smooth the patch onto his skin, right along the arch of his foot. Then, another just under his toes. Two on top across the bridge. One following the curve of his heel. When you’re satisfied, you pull a sock carefully over it all in hopes of keeping your hard work in place. 

Your hands come to rest on his socked feet and you watch him in the dim light of the bedside table and the tv, scrolling through his phone in a rare moment of relaxation. He’s got one arm folded behind his head, propping him up off the armrest of the small couch. His other hand rests against his chest, gripping his phone a little awkwardly. He really is beautiful, even with half of his face cast in shadows. It’s rare you get to study him like this, and you take the time to commit the moment to memory. 

“What?” he asks, eyes shifting from his phone screen to meet your own. He giggles nervously. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, squeezing his feet gently. “You’re pretty. That’s all.”

A shy smile blossoms on his lips, and he tilts his phone closer to his face to hide it. You squeeze his feet again, thumbs ghosting over the fabric of his socks. It’s nice to know you can still make him smile through the pain, even after years of knowing him. 

Your phone buzzes, signaling the arrival of your food. Chris moves to stand and you swat at his legs until he raises his hands in defeat. You’re taking care of him tonight. You’ll happily take care of him every night if he’d let you. 

feeling very personally attacked by kim seungmin and lee minho at the moment

cinema is so good. like… so good. if they end up scrapping the solos from the tour I’m going to mourn as we are so hard but cinema will make up for it so hard