Guys I'm back i had to take a break cause idk but I'm back BTW i made a friend I'm gonna make him a k-poppie and one of my readers wish me luck

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The room they were given was luxurious, adorned with marble floors, expensive artwork, and a massive king-sized bed in the center. It screamed wealth and prestige, but to Beomgyu, it felt more like a gilded cage.

He stood near the window, arms crossed, staring out at the city lights as Yeonjun dropped his jacket on the bed.

"So," Yeonjun started, his tone casual but with an edge of mischief. "Should we talk about the... arrangement?"

Beomgyu turned, his sharp gaze landing on Yeonjun. "There's nothing to talk about. We just have to get through this without killing each other."

Yeonjun chuckled, leaning against the edge of the bed. "Oh, come on. Don't act like you're not curious."

"Curious about what?" Beomgyu shot back, his voice clipped.

Yeonjun smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Us. How this is supposed to work. You're the next mafia king, and I'm apparently your loyal assassin-slash-husband. Doesn't that sound... poetic?"

Beomgyu scoffed, turning back to the window. "It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

Yeonjun's smirk widened. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, until he was standing just behind Beomgyu. "You know," he said, his voice low, "you're pretty tense for someone who's supposed to be in charge."

Beomgyu stiffened, his shoulders tensing at the proximity. "What's your point?"

"My point," Yeonjun said, leaning in slightly, "is that maybe you're not as in control as you think you are."

That was the last straw. Beomgyu spun around, his eyes blazing. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you know me?"

Yeonjun's grin didn't falter. If anything, it grew sharper. "I don't have to know you to see through you. You're a leader on the outside, but deep down? You're not as tough as you pretend to be."

The tension between them crackled like a live wire. Beomgyu's pride wouldn't let him back down. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them until they were nearly chest to chest.

"You think I'm not tough?" Beomgyu challenged, his voice low and dangerous.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "I think you're used to giving orders and having everyone follow them. But here's the thing, Gyu—you don't scare me."

Before Beomgyu could retort, Yeonjun grabbed his wrist and pushed him back gently but firmly against the window. The sudden shift in power left Beomgyu momentarily stunned.

"What are you—"

Yeonjun leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You might be the mafia prince, but in this relationship?" He smirked, his breath warm against Beomgyu's ear. "I'm the one in control."

Beomgyu's cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and something else he refused to name. He tried to push Yeonjun away, but the assassin's grip was unyielding, his strength undeniable.

"You're ridiculous," Beomgyu muttered, turning his head to avoid Yeonjun's piercing gaze.

"And you're cute when you're mad," Yeonjun shot back, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of sincerity.

Beomgyu finally managed to shove Yeonjun back, creating some distance between them. His heart was racing, though he'd never admit it. "Don't think you can just—"

"Relax," Yeonjun interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just messing with you... mostly."

Beomgyu glared at him, but there was no denying the heat still lingering in the room.

"Goodnight," he said sharply, turning toward the bathroom to escape the tension.

Yeonjun chuckled, settling onto the bed with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. "Sweet dreams, honey."

Beomgyu slammed the bathroom door behind him, his cheeks burning.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The next day, the two found themselves walking side by side down a bustling street. The air was crisp, the hum of city life buzzing around them, but neither said much. They were dressed impeccably, as expected for their new roles, and their presence turned more than a few heads.

Yeonjun walked with an easy confidence, hands in his pockets, while Beomgyu stuck to his side, his gaze darting around. He didn't want to be here—out in public, pretending to be something he wasn't. But appearances had to be maintained, and skipping this outing wasn't an option.

"Relax," Yeonjun drawled as they strolled past a high-end boutique. "You look like you're about to run."

"Maybe I am," Beomgyu muttered under his breath, earning a chuckle from Yeonjun.

They turned a corner, and Beomgyu's steps faltered as his eyes caught something in a store window. It was a lingerie boutique, its display showcasing delicate lace sets, silky robes, and mannequins dressed in seductive pieces.

For a brief moment, an image flashed in Beomgyu's mind—himself in one of those delicate sets, draped in soft lace and silk, the fabric clinging to his frame. The thought was intrusive, unexpected, and sent a jolt of heat through him.

What the hell am I thinking?

He quickly shook his head, trying to banish the image. His cheeks burned, and he instinctively looked away from the display, focusing on the ground as if it held all the answers to his sudden internal turmoil.

But then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Yeonjun had stopped walking. Beomgyu glanced up, only to find Yeonjun leaning casually against a nearby post, arms crossed, and smirking at him.

"What?" Beomgyu snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

Yeonjun tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Nothing. Just... you seemed pretty interested in that window."

Beomgyu's eyes widened, and he felt the heat rush to his face again. "I wasn't!" he blurted out, far too quickly to be convincing.

Yeonjun chuckled, pushing off the post and stepping closer. "No need to be embarrassed," he teased, his voice low and laced with amusement. "I think you'd look good in something like that."

Beomgyu's jaw dropped, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. "You're insufferable," he managed to sputter, spinning on his heel and marching down the street, determined to put as much distance between himself and Yeonjun as possible.

Yeonjun followed easily, his long strides quickly catching up. "Oh, come on," he said, still grinning. "I'm just saying you've got the legs for it. No shame in embracing it."

Beomgyu glared at him, his face still flushed. "Shut up, Yeonjun."

Yeonjun shrugged, unbothered by the glare. "Whatever you say, honey."

Beomgyu groaned, regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. But as much as Yeonjun's teasing got under his skin, there was a small, reluctant part of him that found it... less unbearable than he expected.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

this was supposed to be way darker but i made it cute cause not all my characters need to hurt themselves (but honestly this needs to stop)