Work Text:
Yeonjun had been restless all morning.
Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the fact that he was already eight months pregnant and everything felt too full, too warm, too heavy—and yet Soobin’s face, specifically those dimples, had been calling to him like some kind of irresistible button he needed to press.
Soobin, for his part, was trying his best to finish reading through a stack of documents on the couch. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair was slightly messy from running his hand through it too often, and he had that focused, intimidating CEO aura that usually made the entire company go silent.
But not Yeonjun.
Never Yeonjun.
He scooted closer, dragging the blanket with him, making tiny shuffling noises as he moved. Soobin didn’t even look up, just rested his hand on Yeonjun’s knee automatically—an unconscious habit he’d developed the moment Yeonjun started showing.
“Bin…” Yeonjun mumbled.
Soobin hummed in acknowledgment, flipping a page.
Yeonjun reached out, index finger extended like a weapon.
And poked.
Right into Soobin’s dimple.
Soobin froze.
Slowly, he raised his head, blinking once… twice… then narrowing his eyes just a little.
“Yeonjun.”
“Yes, hubby?” Yeonjun sang sweetly.
The nickname—only ever used to fluster him—made Soobin’s ears turn pink. But it was the poke that had his expression warping between stern and helpless.
“You’re doing it again.”
Yeonjun, instead of looking repentant, leaned closer and poked the other dimple.
“This one too.”
Soobin set down his papers with a dramatic sigh, the kind that meant he absolutely loved this but was pretending to be inconvenienced. He gently captured Yeonjun’s finger, holding it captive in his hand.
“Why are you attacking my face?” he asked, voice softening immediately when he saw how round Yeonjun’s cheeks had gotten, how his lashes fluttered, how smug he looked.
Yeonjun pouted. “Because they’re cute.”
“They’re just dimples.”
“They’re illegal,” Yeonjun insisted. “They should not be allowed to exist when I’m this pregnant and this emotional. I need to poke them or I’ll cry.”
Soobin’s eyes widened in alarm. “Okay—okay, no crying. You can poke them.” He leaned his face forward obediently, dimples on full display. “Both of them. As much as you want.”
Yeonjun brightened instantly.
He poked.
Then again.
Then squished both cheeks with both hands, giggling like he wasn’t an eight-months-pregnant omega but a mischievous kid who’d just discovered a toy.
Soobin let him, watching him with so much fondness it nearly melted him into the couch cushions.
“You’re adorable,” Soobin murmured.
“You’re pokable.”
“That’s not a real word.”
“It is now.”
Soobin chuckled—and that was a mistake.
Because the dimples deepened.
Yeonjun gasped dramatically. “OH. NO. THEY GOT DEEPER.”
“Jun—”
Yeonjun launched a full attack, poking repeatedly while laughing so hard his belly shook. Soobin immediately steadied his stomach with one hand, scolding softly even as he grinned.
“Careful, baby. Don’t wanna make my omega bounce our pup out early.”
Yeonjun swatted him half-heartedly, but his fingers were already back on Soobin’s cheeks, softer this time, tracing the dimples like they were treasures.
“Your smile makes me feel better,” Yeonjun admitted quietly. “It’s comforting.”
The confession made something inside Soobin melt completely. He leaned in, kissing Yeonjun’s poking fingers, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose.
“If it comforts you,” he whispered, “I’ll smile for you every day.”
Yeonjun’s voice softened, warm and full. “And I’ll poke you every day.”
“Deal,” Soobin said, dimples deepening once more. “But only you.”
Yeonjun beamed—then poked again, victorious and glowing.
Soobin felt the tiny, gentle jab on his cheek, and despite trying not to, he laughed. A slow, warm sound that vibrated in his chest. His dimples deepened again, which only encouraged Yeonjun further.
And Soobin let him, because if his dimples made his pregnant omega smile like that, then he’d show them a thousand times over.
“There they are,” Yeonjun whispered, almost reverently this time. “My favorite things.”
“Your favorite things?” Soobin raised a brow. “Not me?”
“You are the thing,” Yeonjun explained seriously, poking both dimples at once. “The dimples are bonus features.”
Soobin shook his head in disbelief, sliding closer until their knees touched. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured.
Yeonjun grinned. “You married me anyway.”
“I did,” Soobin whispered, leaning down to kiss his jaw, “and I’d do it again a thousand times.”
Yeonjun’s breath hitched. The teasing faded for a moment, replaced by something soft, tender—something that always made Soobin’s chest tighten.
“I’m really happy, you know…” Yeonjun murmured, fingers brushing lightly against Soobin’s cheek instead of poking now. “Even when I feel huge and tired and emotional. I’m happy with you.”
Soobin’s hand automatically came to rest on Yeonjun’s belly, stroking slow circles. The baby responded with a faint kick, as if agreeing.
“I’m the happy one,” he answered quietly. “You’re carrying our pup. You put up with my worrying. You let me spoil you too much—”
“You don’t spoil me enough,” Yeonjun argued immediately, leaning his head onto Soobin’s shoulder.
Soobin’s arm wrapped around him without a second thought, pulling him into his chest.
“Not enough?” he echoed with a soft laugh. “I carry you to the bed when you fall asleep on the couch. I massage your back every night. I feed you whenever you get random cravings. I even learned how to make that ridiculous midnight strawberry ramyeon you wanted last week—”
“That was a masterpiece,” Yeonjun said proudly. “I stand by that craving.”
Soobin pressed a kiss into Yeonjun’s hair. “My point stands.”
Yeonjun turned his face slightly, cheek brushing against Soobin’s chest, his voice quieter. “You take such good care of me.”
Soobin’s fingers slid under Yeonjun’s chin, lifting it gently so their eyes met. “Of course I do. You’re my omega. My partner. And soon…” His palm settled over the curve of Yeonjun’s belly again. “You’ll be the mother of our pup. I want you safe. I want you comfortable. I want you loved.”
Yeonjun’s eyes softened. “You’re such a sap.”
“For you,” Soobin murmured, kissing his forehead, “always.”
Yeonjun curled into him more, warm and content. But after a moment, he leaned back slightly—eyes narrowing mischievously.
“So…” he drawled, poking one dimple with a single finger. “Since you’re feeling all soft and emotional, can I poke them again?”
Soobin groaned dramatically, but he tilted his face toward him anyway, presenting his cheeks.
“Yes, my love,” he conceded. “Poke away.”
Yeonjun giggled—pure, bright, glowing—and poked both dimples before kissing each one gently.
“That’s because they’re mine,” he whispered softly against Soobin’s skin.
And Soobin, already hopelessly in love, wrapped him in his arms and held him close—dimples deepening, heart full, and happier than he’d ever been.