Pairing: Rowoon x Reader
Summary: Rowoon comes over after a performance and... yeah. Things happen when the boy's tired. I think this is more fluff than smut; it turned out way fluffier than I intended oops. I'm so whipped for him at this point y'all I cannot—
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: l-bomb at the end; VERY soft and needy (sub?) Rowoon; talking as you give him a handjob; sort of a quickie???; idk,,, a whole lotta soft vibes in this one because I'm super soft for Rowoon lately; FLUFF; you change his clothes before bed because he's too tired to do it by himself; soft™️
***
You're the only one I've needed.
***
The door unlocks with a soft click, a small 'I'm here' following it a few seconds later.
Rowoon steps out of his shoes, placing them on your shoe rack neatly before heading towards your living room, where he finds you curled up in a blanket, the TV in front of you playing a rerun of a show the both of you are watching as you sleep soundly.
He smiles to himself. It's not often he gets to see you asleep, at least not in real life. There have been countless of times where he sings you to sleep through video call when you can't meet each other, and ends up talking about how he feels about you when he's sure you can't hear him.
"Baby," he calls out ever so gently, fingers caressing your cheek. "Baby... wake up," he continues, smiling as he sees you stirring in your sleep. "I'm here now. I missed you," he says, placing a soft kiss on your nose.
You wake up to the feeling of him nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, and your arms instinctively wrap him up in a hug.
"Hey," he mumbles into your neck, laying on top of you, careful to not put all of his weight on you. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mm," you reply, nodding as you play with his hair, the only sound in the room coming from the TV and him sighing. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah," he replies, looking up at you. "I missed you, though."
You smile, placing a kiss on his head. "I missed you, too," you tell him, and he kisses your neck in response.
The two of you stay like this for a while, his head on your chest as he listens to your heartbeat, your hands in his hair.
"Y/N," he breaks the silence.
"Hmm?"
"I'm really thankful that I met you," he confesses.
You're pretty sure he can heart your heart racing. "Yah, where's this coming from?" you ask, trying to play it cool, but the warmth on your cheeks give away your true feelings.
"Nowhere. I just wanted you to know," he replies, craning his head up to meet your lips in a kiss. "I've missed you so much," he repeats.
You feel something growing against your thigh, making you smirk. "Does my baby need me?" you ask. You know how he sometimes gets submissive and needy when he's tired, and you guess tonight's one of those times.
He nods, nuzzling his face into your neck shyly.
"Use your words, baby," you remind him, patting his back.
"I need you," he says, his lower lip jutted out in a pout. "But I'm so tired," he pauses, looking down. "I don't know if I can... you know."
"Explain, baby," you tell him, to which he whines.
"I..." he starts, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I don't know if I have the energy to actually move. It's... yeah. That," he stops, covering his face in embarrassment.
You smile. "That's okay, baby," you reply, adding the pet name for good measure. He tends to get softer when you call him 'baby', after all. "We can do the heavy stuff tomorrow," you suggest. "Tonight, we just focus on you, okay?"
He hums in agreement. "I'll make you feel good tomorrow," he offers. "Promise."
"You don't owe me anything, baby. It's okay," you assure him. "Sit up."
He does what he's told obediently, resting his back on your couch as he waits for you to tell him what to do next.
"Good boy," you praise him, and he grins. "You like being called that?" you ask, unzipping his pants.
"Mm," he replies, nodding. "I like being your good boy," he says happily, flashing you a sheepish smile.
"Have you been good for me, baby?" you ask, palming him through his underwear, making him tremble under your hand. "Have you been thinking about me?"
He nods, taking a shaky breath, feeling how your hand moves ever so gently, stifling a groan when your fingers play with his clothed tip. He leans into you, his arm pulling you closer to him as he struggles to stay still with the amount of pleasure he's in.
You feel his lips peppering kisses on the side of your face, before his head rests on your shoulder.
He sighs when you take him out of his underwear, the cold air in the room making him shiver. He's already hard, the feeling of your fingers kneading his tip delicately making him whimper.
It's been a while since he's been touched so gently, so lovingly. The long days and nights of promotion give him barely any time to take care of himself properly, forcing him to touch himself just to relief some sexual frustration instead of doing it for the pleasure.
The friction will have driven him insane if it's not for how much he needs your hand wrapped around his length. He whines when you pull your hand away, disappearing to your bedroom and leaving him helpless on the couch.
You don't waste any time touching him again, now with a large amount of lube in your hands. Though, you take your time lathering him up, making him whimper a small 'please' into your neck.
"My baby's so needy," you comment, smiling. "Have you been taking care of yourself for me?" you ask, listening to the sounds your hand makes when it strokes his cock, feeling yourself aching to have him. But no, you promised him that tonight would be all about him, and you intend to stay true to your words.
"I've been trying to," he replies, gasping when he feels you speed up ever so slightly, his hips bucking up to meet your fist. "It never feels this good, though. I—" he cuts himself off with a groan, feeling the telltale pressure on his lower stomach.
He's leaning on you more heavily now, his whole body tensing up as he tries his best to keep quiet. He feels your hand squeezing him every few strokes, and he almost loses it right then and there.
"I wanna hear you, baby," you say, taking his hand with your free one. You interlace your fingers with his, feeling him grasping your hand tightly as he gets closer to his release.
He moans in response, his breaths ragged as your hand moves faster. "Fuck," he groans, "I'm gonna come."
"That's okay, baby. Come for me." You watch as precum drips steadily from his tip, forcing yourself not to lick it. You know how sensitive he gets, and you don't want to hurt him when he's already tired from his daily schedule. (At least not tonight. You're feeling kind tonight.)
He releases into your hand with a loud cry, whimpering as you stroke him gently to help him ride out his orgasm, hand clasping yours tightly.
"I got you, baby," you remind him, watching as his body relax next to you, his eyes drooping. "Tired?"
"Mm," he hums, taking a deep breath, placing a delicate kiss on your shoulder. "Thank you."
You tilt his chin up to kiss him, before getting up to wash your hands and clean him up.
When you come back, he's barely awake, his body practically melting into the couch with how relaxed and spent he looks. He barely moves when you clean him up and tuck him back into his pants.
"Can you get up, baby?" you ask, and he responds with a pout while shaking his head weakly. "You'll hurt your back if you sleep out here. C'mon, let's go to the bedroom," you say, pulling him up from the couch.
He obliges without a word, dragging his feet towards the bedroom with you pulling his hand. He sits on the bed, watching as you pick out clothes for him to change into (he left a few of his t-shirts and sweatpants before he went away to promote his new album with the rest of the group, remembering how you told him that you loved wearing his clothes).
You take off his shirt and pants and throw it into the laundry quickly, helping him change into his pajamas. You place a kiss on his forehead, and as you're about to go to the bathroom to do your nightly routine, his arms wrap around your body tightly.
He buries his face into your stomach, pulling you closer to him. "Thank you for taking care of me," he says, looking up at you. "I'm not sure if you know this, so I'll say it now before I chicken out," he continues, pulling away just so that he can hold your hands.
"Yah, you're making me nervous," you tell him, laughing sheepishly.
"Is..." he stops, taking a deep breath. "Would it be okay if I love you?" he asks, looking at your hands. "Because I do, and I love you a whole lot."
Your lips meet his in reply, and you can feel him smiling into the kiss, making you grin. "I love you too, silly. You didn't have to say it like that. I was so scared you were going to break up with me," you ramble, before he pulls you to him to kiss you once more.
The two of you end up cuddling in bed, the feeling of longing for each other finally dissipating as he holds you close, his heartbeat steady under your ear.
Your head is on his chest now, his thumb drawing lazy circles your back as he listens to you talk about what he's missed while he was away. He occasionally chuckles drowsily, before eventually falling asleep to your voice.
This is the first time he's fallen asleep before you do, and you take your time admiring how peaceful he looks when he sleeps, caressing his cheek gently and brushing his hair back with your fingers.
Placing a soft kiss on his forehead once again, you smile. It's been so long since you've been close to each other that you don't want the night to end.
He'll be here tomorrow, you remind yourself, and finally give in to the drowsiness.
Maybe you'll meet him in your dreams, too.