⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Days passed, but Beomgyu couldn't shake the intrusive thoughts that had started haunting him since they walked past that boutique. It wasn't just a fleeting moment anymore. The image of himself dressed in delicate lace, soft fabrics hugging his body, refused to leave his mind.

It crept in during quiet moments—when he was lying in bed, when Yeonjun was in the same room, and even when he was supposed to be focusing on his work. The idea both embarrassed and intrigued him, and no matter how much he tried to suppress it, it lingered like a secret he was too afraid to admit even to himself.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun seemed completely unbothered—or at least that's how it appeared on the surface. He moved through their shared space with ease, his confidence and charm on full display. But beneath his playful exterior, he was starting to notice things.

The way Beomgyu's cheeks flushed whenever Yeonjun got too close. The way his gaze would linger, just for a second, before darting away. Yeonjun couldn't deny it—he found himself admiring Beomgyu more and more. There was something captivating about the mix of strength and vulnerability in him, the way he carried himself despite the weight of their situation.

One evening, as they sat in the living room, Yeonjun finally decided to break the silence.

"If we're going to keep this charade up," Yeonjun started, leaning back on the couch with a sly grin, "we need to set some ground rules."

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed. "Ground rules? Like what?"

Yeonjun's grin widened. "Like who's in charge."

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "You've been trying to act like you're in charge since day one. What's new?"

"I'm serious," Yeonjun said, his tone shifting slightly, though the smirk remained. "If we're going to live together, work together, and, you know, play the part, then we need to figure out how this is going to work."

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

Yeonjun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he met Beomgyu's gaze. "Simple. If we're going to do this, I'm the top. No arguments."

Beomgyu blinked, his face heating up instantly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Yeonjun said, clearly enjoying Beomgyu's flustered reaction. "I'm the top. End of discussion."

Beomgyu scoffed, though he couldn't stop the flush from creeping up his neck. "You're unbelievable."

Yeonjun shrugged, his grin turning playful. "You're the one who agreed to this marriage, sweetheart. You don't get to call the shots anymore."

Beomgyu stood, his fists clenched at his sides. "I didn't agree to anything! This was forced on me, just like it was forced on you."

Yeonjun's smirk faltered for a moment, but then he leaned back, looking up at Beomgyu with an unreadable expression. "Maybe so. But we're here now, and we have to make it work. You can fight me all you want, but it's not going to change anything."

Beomgyu glared at him, his mind racing. He wanted to argue, to push back against Yeonjun's infuriating confidence, but a small part of him—the part he hated acknowledging—found it hard to look away from the other man.

After a long silence, Beomgyu sank back into his seat with a sigh. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't push your luck."

Yeonjun chuckled, satisfied. "Don't worry, Gyu. I know exactly how far to push."

They sat in silence for a moment before Beomgyu spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "What about the wedding?"

Yeonjun's smile faded slightly. "What about it?"

"What's the plan?" Beomgyu asked, avoiding Yeonjun's gaze. "Are we supposed to just... stand there and pretend we're happy about this?"

Yeonjun's expression softened, just a bit. "Pretty much. It's all for show, remember? The families don't care how we feel. They just want us to look the part."

Beomgyu nodded, his chest tightening at the thought. He didn't want to admit it, but part of him felt a pang of sadness at how hollow the whole thing was.

"We'll get through it," Yeonjun said, his voice gentler than before. "It's just one day. After that, we'll figure out the rest."

Beomgyu glanced at him, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. For the first time since they'd met, Yeonjun didn't seem like he was teasing or trying to provoke him.

"Yeah," Beomgyu muttered, more to himself than to Yeonjun. "We'll figure it out."

But as he sat there, the image of himself in lace flitting through his mind once again, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to figure out than he was ready to admit.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The wedding day was fast approaching, and with it, the pressure of looking like the perfect couple. Beomgyu couldn't shake the unease swirling in his stomach, especially as the day of the rehearsal approached. The idea of standing in front of hundreds of people pretending to be in love with Yeonjun felt... wrong.

Still, there was no escaping it. This was the life he had been forced into. And Yeonjun—no matter how much he wanted to fight it—was a part of it.

The rehearsal was set for late afternoon. Beomgyu was already in his suit, the dark fabric perfectly tailored to his frame, but the weight of the moment pressed on him like a physical burden.

They stood before a full-length mirror in a private room, staring at their reflections. Beomgyu's palms were sweaty. His mind kept running over everything that could go wrong—everything that had already gone wrong—but when his eyes flicked toward Yeonjun, he felt a surge of something else.

Yeonjun was adjusting his tie, his posture relaxed, but there was a glimmer of something in his gaze—something serious, as though he was trying to gauge Beomgyu's reaction to what was about to happen.

"So," Yeonjun started, his voice low but playful, "this is it. The big moment. Are you ready to pretend to be in love with me?"

Beomgyu shot him a glare. "I didn't sign up for this."

Yeonjun smirked, his eyes gleaming. "You didn't have a choice, Gyu. We both know that."

"Right," Beomgyu muttered, turning away to adjust his sleeve. "So, what's the plan for the kiss? We just... kiss, and that's it?"

"Exactly," Yeonjun said, stepping closer, his voice dropping an octave. "But we need to make it look real, or they'll know we're just playing parts."

Beomgyu shot him a quick glance. "And you think I can pull that off?"

Yeonjun's smile widened. "I think you're more than capable. But are you ready to give me a kiss that'll leave them all convinced we're madly in love?"

Beomgyu hesitated, his breath catching. He could feel his pulse quicken at Yeonjun's proximity, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. "I... I don't know," he muttered, his voice betraying him.

Yeonjun's expression softened, just for a moment, as he took another step forward. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll guide you. You just follow my lead."

Beomgyu's heart pounded in his chest, his mind spinning. He didn't want this, but at the same time, something in Yeonjun's calm confidence tugged at him, drew him in. He could feel the power Yeonjun held over him without even trying, and it irritated him—yet, it also made him nervous in a way he didn't want to admit.

Before Beomgyu could protest further, Yeonjun reached out, cupping his chin with one hand, tilting his head up gently.

"Just... trust me," Yeonjun murmured, his thumb brushing over Beomgyu's lower lip.

Beomgyu's breath hitched, his eyes flicking to Yeonjun's. He could see the faintest trace of amusement, but also something darker, something almost predatory in Yeonjun's gaze.

Yeonjun leaned in slowly, giving Beomgyu plenty of time to pull back or stop him, but Beomgyu didn't move. His lips parted just enough, caught between instinct and hesitation.

And then, Yeonjun kissed him.

It was gentle at first, just a brief press of lips, soft and almost tentative. But when Beomgyu didn't pull away, Yeonjun deepened it, tilting his head slightly to angle their mouths together. The kiss was firm but slow, as if they were both testing the waters, figuring out how to make it real. Beomgyu felt his heart race in a way he couldn't explain, his chest tightening as Yeonjun's lips moved over his with careful precision.

He was lost in the sensation—part of him wanted to pull away, to run from this moment, but another part of him was too caught up in the unexpected feeling of being kissed by Yeonjun.

The sound of the door opening abruptly broke the moment. Both of them pulled back immediately, as though snapped out of a trance.

Soobin stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Well, I see you're taking this rehearsal seriously," he said, his voice laced with mockery.

Beomgyu's face turned bright red as he took a quick step back, his heart still hammering. "I—uh—this isn't—"

Yeonjun, on the other hand, just smirked, unbothered. "We're just practicing. No need to overreact."

Soobin raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further. "Alright, alright. Just make sure you keep it PG for the real thing, okay?"

Beomgyu couldn't meet Soobin's eyes, still too flustered from what had just happened. He felt like his whole world had tilted slightly, like things between him and Yeonjun were... changing in ways he wasn't ready for.

When the door closed behind Soobin, Beomgyu turned back to Yeonjun, his face still flushed. "What the hell was that?"

Yeonjun shrugged, his grin returning. "Just a little practice. You did fine."

Beomgyu didn't know what to say. He couldn't decide if he wanted to punch Yeonjun for making him feel this way—or if he was more confused about the way his body responded to the kiss. He couldn't even trust his own thoughts anymore.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

The night before the wedding was not just about rehearsing their fake relationship; there was a more pressing matter at hand. The families had made it clear that they had unfinished business to attend to before they could fully embrace the marriage as a political alliance. And so, Beomgyu and Yeonjun found themselves on a mission—one that would test their teamwork and skills.

The A-Team, a rival mafia group, had been a thorn in the side of Beomgyu's family for years. They were powerful, precise, and ruthless, but what they didn't have was the kind of unity that Beomgyu's family commanded.

Tonight, their mission was simple in theory but deadly in execution: steal sensitive information from the A-Team that could cripple their operations, and make sure no one knew they'd been there. The task was dangerous, requiring a level of stealth and cunning that Beomgyu wasn't sure he'd be able to pull off without Yeonjun's help.

They met in a darkened alley, the only light coming from the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. Beomgyu adjusted his jacket, trying to control the nerves eating at him, the weight of his family's expectations pressing on his shoulders.

Yeonjun stood beside him, calm and collected as ever. His eyes gleamed in the low light, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nervous?" he asked, his voice a quiet hum in the night air.

Beomgyu shot him a glare. "I'm always nervous when I'm about to risk my life. Not everyone's built like you, Yeonjun."

Yeonjun shrugged, his grin widening. "I'll protect you. Just stick close and follow my lead."

Beomgyu nodded, though his stomach twisted with unease. He wasn't used to relying on anyone, let alone a man he barely knew—and one who had made it clear that he preferred to be in control. But tonight, they had no choice but to work together.

The A-Team's hideout was an old warehouse, heavily guarded but not impossible to infiltrate. Yeonjun led the way, effortlessly blending into the shadows, his movements graceful and precise. Beomgyu followed, his heart pounding as the night stretched on. He'd been in dangerous situations before, but something about the stakes of tonight felt different.

When they reached the building, Yeonjun surveyed the perimeter. His eyes flicked to Beomgyu. "We'll need to go through the back entrance. You're up for this, right?"

Beomgyu met his gaze, pushing aside the fear gnawing at him. "Of course. Let's do this."

They slipped into the warehouse unnoticed, their steps light and synchronized as they moved through the darkened halls. Beomgyu's mind was razor-sharp, calculating the best way to avoid the guards and make their way to the vault containing the information they needed.

"I'll handle the guards," Yeonjun murmured, his voice barely audible. "You focus on the vault."

Beomgyu didn't argue. He knew Yeonjun was right. As the heir to his family's mafia empire, Beomgyu had been trained to lead, to command, to strategize. But it was Yeonjun who was the expert in stealth, in taking out enemies before they even knew they were a threat.

They moved like shadows, silent and swift, until they reached the vault. Beomgyu's heart was in his throat as he knelt in front of the lock, his hands steady despite the rising tension. The seconds felt like hours as he cracked the code, his mind focused on the task at hand. Finally, with a soft click, the vault door swung open.

Beomgyu quickly grabbed the files inside, his mind racing through the implications of what they were stealing. The information they were holding would give Beomgyu's family the upper hand in the war against the A-Team, but it came at a price. If they were caught, there would be no coming back.

As he stood up, Yeonjun appeared beside him, his movements fluid and precise as always. "Got it?" he asked, his tone businesslike.

Beomgyu nodded, holding up the files. "Got it."

Just as they turned to leave, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse. Beomgyu's heart skipped a beat. "Shit," he muttered. "They know we're here."

Yeonjun's eyes narrowed. "We need to move. Now."

Without another word, they bolted toward the exit, their footsteps barely audible in the chaos around them. Guards appeared from every direction, but Yeonjun took them out with deadly precision, his blade flashing through the air as if it were an extension of his own body.

Beomgyu followed close behind, his mind racing. He'd never seen Yeonjun move like this before—so fast, so ruthless. It was as if the man was made for this life, a machine built to kill and survive. And yet, despite the violence surrounding them, there was a strange calm in Yeonjun's eyes.

They reached the back exit, but just as they were about to make their escape, a guard appeared from the shadows. Beomgyu barely had time to react before Yeonjun stepped forward, his body moving in a blur as he incapacitated the man with a single strike.

"Nice work," Beomgyu said, trying to catch his breath.

Yeonjun's grin returned, that familiar cocky edge to his voice. "Told you. Just follow my lead."

They made it to the car, the adrenaline still coursing through Beomgyu's veins. As they sped away from the warehouse, he looked over at Yeonjun, the weight of the mission finally sinking in.

"That's why you're the heir, huh?" Yeonjun asked, his voice low but tinged with respect. "You really know how to get the job done."

Beomgyu smirked, though there was a flicker of unease in his chest. "I guess I do."

Yeonjun's gaze lingered on him, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "You're more than just an heir, Gyu. You've got potential."

Beomgyu turned away, not sure what to make of Yeonjun's words. But in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't help but feel a surge of something else—something that was beginning to complicate the already tangled web of their relationship.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

enjoy this update it felt nice istg