Jaeyel woke up slowly, the warmth of the blankets making it hard to fully regain consciousness. The sun was pouring in through the large windows, too strong, making him squint as he blinked away the last bits of sleep. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes.

His breath hitched. The sheets, the scent in the air—it was definitely Yang’s place, but not the room he had stayed in before. He scanned his surroundings, trying to remember how he ended up here.

And then—

Shit.

His face burned instantly as he remembered what happened. He fell asleep… while kissing Yang.

Jaeyel yanked the covers over his head. Did he seriously just pass out in the middle of that? That was so embarrassing. He felt his stomach twist, and before he could fully process it, there was a knock at the door. His whole body tensed.

Yang.

Jaeyel nearly choked on air. His awkwardness shot up a hundred levels. He scrambled to sit properly, clearing his throat. “Uh… good morning.”

Yang just smiled, calm and composed like always, then sat beside him on the bed. “Morning. You should eat. Though it’s already lunch, so I had lunch prepared instead.”

Jaeyel blinked. “Huh?”

Yang chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed, way too close. “You must’ve needed the rest. It’s past noon,” Yang said casually.

Jaeyel’s mind was still catching up. Past noon? He never sleeps in this late. Then again, after everything that happened yesterday, his body probably shut down from pure exhaustion.

He glanced at Yang and felt the awkwardness creep in. “Ah… thanks. I—uh, I have a schedule today, so I should get going.”

Yang tilted his head slightly, his expression calm. “I already adjusted your schedule.”

Jaeyel hesitated. “You… did?”

Yang nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. And honestly, maybe for him, it was. The man was literally the CEO—moving around one idol’s schedule was nothing for him.

Jaeyel sighed and gave in. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

His voice came out a little more awkward than he intended, and Yang was just… staring at him. Not in a creepy way. Not even in a suspicious way. But in a way that made Jaeyel hyper-aware of himself.

Especially when Yang’s gaze flickered—

Lower.

Right to Jaeyel’s lips.

Jaeyel felt his entire body heat up. Did—did Yang just—

He panicked. “I-I’m hungry!” he blurted out and practically launched himself out of bed, speed-walking toward the door.

Yang, left sitting alone, exhaled slowly. His gaze lingered on where Jaeyel had just been, his jaw tightening. He ran a hand through his hair, veins subtly visible from the effort it took to hold himself back.

---

That afternoon, after washing up and clearing his head, Jaeyel asked to borrow a phone. He needed to call his members—let them know he was fine before they panicked.

Yang, of course, was one step ahead. “I already informed your manager. Your members know you’re safe. But you can still contact them if you want.”

He handed Jaeyel a phone. A brand-new one.

Jaeyel stared at it. “What’s this?”

“Your old one was broken when we found it,” Yang explained, unfazed. “Your manager has it now, but you can take it from him later.”

There was something about the way Yang said ‘when we found it’ that made Jaeyel feel like there was more to it. But he didn’t push.

Jaeyel stared at the phone. He wanted to protest, say that Yang didn’t need to buy him a new one, but he knew it was pointless. Yang had already decided. With a small sigh, he took the phone.

“Thanks…” Jaeyel mumbled, taking the phone. “I’ll go make a call.”

“Jaeyel…”

He was about to turn away when Yang called his name softly.

Before Jaeyel could respond, Yang’s fingers brushed through his hair, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the moment.

Jaeyel’s breath hitched. A sudden warmth crawled up his neck, his face heating up before he could stop it. Flustered, he quickly cleared his throat. “I-I’ll go make a call,” he blurted, barely giving Yang a chance to say anything else before hurrying away.

But even as he left, he could still feel the ghost of Yang’s touch lingering.

As Jaeyel left the room, Yang didn’t stop him. Didn’t say anything. Just watched.

And there was something about his eyes.

Not dangerous. Not even suspicious.

But a little… unsettling.

---

Yang’s Past—How it all started.

Yang had always been cold. Detached. He was in a band, but it wasn’t serious. His father owned an entertainment company, but he wanted nothing to do with it. And his twin brother, Yin? He was barely functional. A total mess.

Yin had never been right in the head. He never went to school, always shut inside the house. Yang rarely went home because he found the place suffocating—the weight of his father’s expectations, the eerie presence of his unstable twin.

But one day, during a rare visit home, he saw Yin rushing out of his room with a large DSLR camera. Yang barely paid attention. He never did. But as he passed by Yin’s open bedroom door, something caught his eye.

He stopped.

Slowly, he stepped inside.

What the hell…

The walls were covered—covered—in pictures. The same person. Hundreds of them. Every inch of space was filled with photos of a young man.

Yang stared at the obsessive shrine his brother had built. In the corner, there were small objects—things that clearly didn’t belong to Yin. Stolen items.

He put the pieces together immediately.

Yin was stalking someone.

For the first time in a long while, Yang felt something close to curiosity. But in the end, he didn’t care enough. Not his problem.

---

Weeks passed. One day, Yang was out with his bandmates in Myeongdong, casually smoking outside a restaurant when he spotted someone. A young waiter inside. He almost ignored it—almost. But something about the guy felt familiar.

That face.

It took him a second. Then, it clicked.

The guy from the pictures…

It was the guy from the pictures in Yin’s room.

---

One day, while Yang was home, he found Yin’s room open—again. For someone hiding something, Yin was being reckless. But then again, he was never right in the head. Honestly, it didn’t even seem like he was trying to hide it.

He went into Yin’s room again, and there were even more pictures now.

He saw the name scribbled in messy handwriting, with a heart drawn next to it.

“Jaeyel…“

He assumed it was the name of the young man in the picture.

---

From then on, he started noticing more. Like how Yin lurked in alleyways, camera in hand, fixated on Jaeyel. Yang didn’t stop him at first—he found it amusing, in a sick way.

Noticing things about Jaeyel. His voice, his smile. The way he carried himself. At first, it was amusement—watching his brother obsess.

Without realizing it, he started watching too.

Yang had heard him singing once—just a passing moment, a quiet hum under his breath when he thought no one was listening.

But Yang did.

Jaeyel had once mentioned to another waiter, almost as a joke, that he wanted to become an idol. But he never really believed he could be one. Yang remembered the way he laughed it off, like it was just a silly dream.

But Yang didn’t think it was silly at all.

The more he watched Yin watching Jaeyel, the more he felt something shift.

Even without Yin, Yang found himself at that restaurant. Just watching.

He ended up buying the place across from it—just so he could watch him whenever he wanted. Just to make sure he was safe.

Yin’s obsession annoyed him now. He didn’t want anyone looking at Jaeyel. Having pictures of him.

It wasn’t funny anymore.

Irritation. Possessiveness.

He wanted him for himself.

So he took control.

He warned Yin to stop. Threatened to burn everything. But Yin didn’t listen. So Yang did it himself—erased every trace of Jaeyel from Yin’s room.

Yin lost it. Screamed, cried, destroyed everything in sight. And Yang? He simply watched.

Then, he made the call.

Mental institution. His father had wanted to do it for years, but Yang never cared. Now? Now he had a reason.

He needed Yin out of the way.

When their father suddenly fell sick—mysteriously, with no clear cause—Yang took his chance.

People whispered. Rumors spread.

Did Yang do something to him?

Nobody knows.

He took control of the company.

It wasn’t an easy process. He had to stand his ground against many executives. He had to learn about business and other things that had never interested him before.

But he did it.

He created a future where Jaeyel would become an idol.

And when he finally met him face-to-face, for the first time, he thought—

I want you.

Yang wanted him. Badly.

---

Back to the present.

Yang stood, watching as Jaeyel disappeared down the hall.

Once he was out of sight, Yang turned, walking to the drawer behind the large plant.

He opened it.

Inside—

Stacks of photos. Hundreds.

Pictures of Jaeyel.

The ones his brother had taken.

He never burned them.

At the bottom—more. Small objects. Belongings.

He reached in, picked up a picture, running his thumb over it.

A slow smile spread across his lips.

“You’re mine now.”

…

THE END.