Won stirred awake, blinking sleepily at the ceiling. He shifted slightly, turning to find Michael still fast asleep beside him, his small hand clutching the blanket as if it were a lifeline. A faint smile touched Won’s lips before he carefully slid off the bed.

Suppressing a yawn, he rubbed the back of his neck and tiptoed out, careful not to disturb the boy’s peaceful slumber.

But the moment he stepped into the living room, he froze.

Rocky was already awake. He sat at the tiny kitchen table with a newspaper in one hand and a steaming mug of black coffee in the other. His posture was relaxed, composed—as though he owned the space.

Won blinked in confusion. Does this guy ever sleep…?

Without lifting his eyes from the paper, Rocky said flatly, 

“You drool when you sleep?.”

Won’s eye twitched. “I do not!”

A faint smirk tugged at Rocky’s lips. “Sure you don’t.”

Won muttered something under his breath and stomped toward the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and cereal. He poured with unnecessary force, the rattling sound louder than it needed to be.

Rocky’s gaze flicked sideways.

“Try not to break the bowl, tough guy.”

Won glared daggers at him, spoon halfway to his mouth, then shoved the cereal in aggressively. Rocky, unbothered, simply sipped his coffee and turned another page.

The sound of soft footsteps broke the silence. Michael shuffled out of the bedroom, his hair sticking out in messy tufts from sleep.

Won’s expression immediately softened at the sight of him. 

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Michael rubbed his eyes, his voice groggy but sweet.

 “Morning…”

Without saying a word, Rocky pushed a small plate across the table. A pair of buttered toasts slid toward Michael.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Thank you!”

Rocky only grunted, sipping his coffee as though he hadn’t done anything worth noting.

Won narrowed his eyes, watching the quiet exchange. 

Is he… actually nice? Or is this part of some evil plan?

As if sensing the suspicion, Rocky looked up and caught Won staring. He raised an eyebrow.

 “Eat. You’re even more useless when you’re hungry.”

Won scowled but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed a bowl and poured himself more cereal, pointedly avoiding Rocky’s gaze.

For a while, the apartment settled into a rare moment of peace. The air wasn’t entirely relaxed—too much unspoken tension still lingered—but it wasn’t hostile either.

Michael swung his legs cheerfully beneath the chair, munching on his toast. Rocky pretended to keep reading his newspaper, but every so often his eyes flicked sideways to make sure Michael was eating properly.

Won noticed. He caught the subtle way Rocky’s gaze lingered a second longer than necessary, as if ensuring the boy was cared for.

A smirk tugged at Won’s lips. Gotcha. You’re not as heartless as you want everyone to think.

 Won thought, watching Rocky pretend not to care about Michael.

Breakfast wound down quietly. Rocky drained the last of his coffee, then set the cup down with a soft clink. His gaze swept over both of them—measured, steady.

“Alright,” he said, his voice firm. 

“Since you’re both under my roof now, some rules.”

Won narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Oh boy, here we go…”

Rocky shot him a look sharp enough to silence, but he didn’t take the bait.

 “One—no sneaking out. I don’t care if you’re a street rat or a lost puppy, you check in with me first.”

Michael blinked, wide-eyed. Won arched a brow. 

“You’re seriously treating us like kids?”

“You act like one,” Rocky said flatly.

Won scoffed, crossing his arms tighter, leaning back in his chair as though to prove his independence. 

“Tch… I’ve been taking care of myself for years, you know.”

“Barely,” 

Rocky replied dryly, his arms now crossed in return.

 “You were one missed meal away from collapsing when I found you.”

Won’s face twitched. Heat crept up his neck—not from anger, but embarrassment. Before he could snap back, Michael spoke up, his small voice breaking the tension.

“You kinda were, Won,” he said with an amused little smile.

Won turned sharply, glaring as he pointed his fork at him.

 “Whose side are you on!?”

Michael grinned, feigning deep thought. 

“Umm… the side that serves pancakes?”

Rocky leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, his lips tugging into a faint smirk. 

“Smart kid.”

Won muttered something under his breath, but Michael only giggled, clearly pleased at making Rocky laugh—even if just a little.

Won looked between them, exhaling hard as he rubbed his face.

 “This is so messed up…”

When he dropped his hands, his scowl was back in place. Arms crossed, chin tilted defiantly, he shot Rocky a glare.

 “You’re not exactly a shining example of maturity yourself.”

Rocky smirked, pushing off the table to lean casually against the wall, arms folded with practiced ease. 

“True. But I’m the one with a roof, food, and no arrest record.”

Michael giggled at that, the sound soft but contagious. His eyes flicked between the two men, bright with mischief. 

“You guys argue a lot. Are you sure you’re not secretly friends?”

Both Won and Rocky froze. The room seemed to still with them. Won’s face twisted in mild horror while Rocky turned his head sharply to stare at Michael.

“No. Absolutely not,” Won blurted, voice flat and certain.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” Rocky added, his tone low but not nearly as sharp as it could have been.

Michael burst into louder laughter, clutching his toast as though he’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

Won tried to glare at him but couldn’t quite keep the edge in his eyes. And when he glanced at Rocky, just for a fleeting moment, the tension between them eased—two stubborn walls shifting, not crumbling, but softening.

Later that night, the apartment was unusually still. Won stood in the kitchen, staring awkwardly at the expensive stove as though it might bite him.

I still can’t believe we’re actually living here…

 he thought, eyes tracing the spotless counters and neatly arranged utensils. Everything was too perfect—too clean—for someone like him, who was used to cracked walls, drafty rooms, and meals eaten on the run.

The sharp click of the front door snapped him out of his thoughts. Rocky stepped inside, loosening his tie as he entered. His movements were unhurried, his presence filling the room as naturally as breathing.

“You’re still up?” Rocky asked, his voice low but carrying easily in the silence.

Won straightened slightly, caught off guard.

 “I… was just making sure Michael sleeps well.”

Rocky’s eyes shifted toward the couch, where Michael lay curled under a blanket, breathing softly in the peace of deep sleep. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Seems like he’s already doing just fine.”

He moved past Won without pause, heading deeper into the apartment. 

“You should rest too.”

Won hesitated, biting his lip before blurting out, 

“Rocky…”

The older man stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

Won’s grip tightened on the edge of the counter. His voice dropped lower, cautious, almost fragile.

“Why are you really helping us?”

Rocky paused near the hallway, leaning one shoulder against the wall. He slipped a cigarette from his pocket, rolling it between his fingers but never bothering to light it.

“…No reason,” he said finally, his tone flat.

Won frowned, unconvinced. His eyes narrowed, waiting for more.

Rocky avoided his gaze, staring off into the shadows instead. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, the words almost slipping out against his will. 

“I guess… it’s been a while since someone needed me for something other than my money.”

Won froze, caught off guard by the unexpected honesty. For the first time, Rocky’s expression cracked—not cold, not unreadable, but faintly human. He lowered his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability softening his sharp edges.

“And maybe,” Rocky murmured, barely above a whisper, “I don’t mind it.”

Silence stretched between them. Won stared at him, his chest tightening in a way he couldn’t explain. Slowly, his own expression softened, the guarded hostility fading just a little.

But just as quickly, Rocky straightened, slipping his mask back on. His tone sharpened again, back to the cold indifference Won was used to. 

“Now go to sleep before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Won almost laughed. Instead, he let a small, faint smile tug at his lips as he watched Rocky turn away.

“Yes… boss.”