Jaeyel had tried to stay awake, but the combination of the smooth ride, the gentle hum of the engine, and his exhaustion from staying up late made it impossible. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute, and eventually, without realizing it—he drifted off.

Yang noticed the second Jaeyel’s breathing slowed.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he glanced over.

Jaeyel’s head had tilted slightly to the side, lips parted just a little, his sharp features softened by sleep. The dim glow of the passing streetlights cast shifting shadows over his face, highlighting the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Yang’s jaw clenched.

His fingers tapped against the wheel, slow and controlled, as if he was trying to ground himself.

There was something almost unfair about how Jaeyel could look like this—unguarded, peaceful—when he had been so tense just hours ago.

Yang exhaled quietly, his gaze lingering for just a moment too long.

Then—Jaeyel shifted in his sleep.

His head lolled slightly, falling toward Yang’s side. For a split second, Yang could feel the warmth of him—just barely, just enough to make his grip on the wheel tighten even more.

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

Carefully—so carefully—he lifted one hand off the wheel and adjusted Jaeyel’s seat back just a little, making sure he wouldn’t wake up with a sore neck.

His fingers hovered near Jaeyel’s shoulder for a second longer than necessary.

Then he pulled away, pressing his lips together as he focused back on the road.

Neither of them spoke.

One, because Jaeyel was still asleep.

And the other, because Yang wasn’t sure what he would say if Jaeyel were awake.

---

After nearly four hours of uncomfortable silence, they finally arrived in Busan.

The team-building site was a private beach resort, surrounded by stunning ocean views and lined with modern villas for the staff and members to stay in.

The moment Jaeyel stepped out of the car, the fresh sea breeze hit him, and he almost melted in relief.

“Jaeyel!” One of his group members, Steve, spotted him from the main entrance, waving him over. “Took you long enough, man! What, did you walk here?”

Before Jaeyel could answer, another member nudged Steve, whispering something in his ear. Steve’s eyes widened, and when he looked back at Jaeyel, his expression had completely changed.

“Oh… Wait. You came with him?”

Jaeyel didn’t have to turn around to know exactly who Steve was talking about.

CEO Yang had just stepped out of the car, adjusting his cuffs with his usual unreadable expression.

Jaeyel cleared his throat. “Uh… yeah. He had a meeting here, so…”

The members exchanged glances before giving him knowing smirks. “Damn. Must be nice to have the CEO personally escort you.”

“Shut up,” Jaeyel muttered, pushing past them.

Thankfully, Yang didn’t stick around. After making sure Jaeyel had arrived safely, he left for his meeting, and Jaeyel was finally able to enjoy the trip.

Or so he thought.

---

The team-building trip was livelier than Jaeyel expected. After the group dinner, the staff and members split into smaller groups, some heading toward the bonfire by the beach, others going for a night walk along the shore. Jaeyel, feeling full and a little drowsy from the meal, decided to step away for some fresh air.

He wandered off toward a quieter part of the beach, where the waves were calmer, the laughter from his team fading into the background. The night breeze was cool against his skin, and for a moment, he let himself relax.

Then, out of nowhere, he felt the warmth of a hand on his wrist.

Jaeyel turned sharply, startled, only to see Yang standing next to him. He hadn’t even heard him approach.

“You’ll catch a cold,” Yang said simply, his voice calm but firm.

Jaeyel blinked, glancing down. The wind had made him shiver, but he hadn’t noticed until now. Before he could respond, Yang took off his jacket and draped it over Jaeyel’s shoulders in one swift motion.

Jaeyel stiffened. “I—”

“Just wear it.” Yang’s tone left no room for argument.

This jacket… he really wears something different from his office suit when he’s not working. He almost looks like someone in a band or something.

Jaeyel hesitated, but the warmth of the jacket was immediate, and he found himself gripping the fabric instinctively. It smelled faintly of Yang’s cologne—subtle, expensive, and surprisingly comforting.

But why is he even treating me like I’m some kind of delicate flower? I’m a man too, you know. This man here worked various odd jobs before he became an idol.

His mind nagged at him. Why was Yang even here? Shouldn’t he be somewhere else, with the other executives, or at his hotel drinking his expensive red wine or something? More than that—why was he paying this much attention to me?

Jaeyel glanced up at him, searching his face, but as usual, Yang’s expression was unreadable.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved. The waves crashed in the distance, filling the silence between them. Jaeyel could feel Yang’s eyes on him, unreadable yet intense, like he was studying every little reaction.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Jaeyel cleared his throat and turned away, pretending to focus on the ocean. The waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic sound filling the silence between them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, gripping the fabric of the jacket draped over his shoulders.

Yang didn’t reply right away. Instead, he stepped closer, just enough that their shoulders nearly touched. His warmth, so close yet not quite touching, was steady—grounding.

“You were shaking,” Yang finally said, his voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would break something fragile between them.

Jaeyel let out a breath, his fingers tightening around the edges of the jacket. There was something about the way Yang said it—so simple, like it was the most natural thing in the world to notice such details about him.

He glanced at Yang then, eyes searching. “You always notice,” he murmured, barely audible over the waves.

Yang exhaled a quiet laugh, but there was no amusement in it. “Of course I do.”

Jaeyel looked away again, his chest tightening in a way he didn’t quite understand. The wind bit at his skin, but beneath the weight of Yang’s jacket, it felt distant.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt heavier, charged with something Jaeyel wasn’t ready to name.

Yang shifted slightly, and Jaeyel could feel the ghost of his warmth lingering between them. “You should take better care of yourself,” Yang said, softer now, like a secret meant only for them.

Jaeyel swallowed. His lips parted, as if to argue, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come.

And for the first time that night, the cold didn’t bother him at all.