He angled the phone carefully, the soft pink backdrop and blurred fairy lights behind him giving nothing away. His finger hovered over the GO LIVE button.

The voice was soft, but impossibly deep. It rolled down Jisung’s spine like cold water. Minho’s thumbs pressed gently into the tense muscle where his neck met his shoulders.

Minho’s jaw tightened. The camera caught it. The camera caught everything.

His hand slid over Jisung’s shoulder, fingers gentle as they pried the phone from his grip. The other hand came up, slow and deliberate, and stroked through Jisung’s freshly styled blonde hair.