TEN YEARS LATER....

 

Won had grown into a striking young man—charismatic, sharp, and dangerously charming. He was still working for Rocky, but his role shifted from bodyguard to handling critical office duties. Won was also notorious for his flirtatious ways. Women and men alike often fell for his easy smiles and playful words, and he didn't mind the attention.

Yet, Michael—now freshly eighteen and still under Rocky and Won’s care—had mixed feelings. After years of being close to Won, he found it hard to accept how effortlessly Won entertained others. He hated the way Won's touch, words, and smiles were shared so easily with strangers.

Michael would often glare quietly from a corner when Won chatted with others, especially when Won was too charming for his own good. But Won remained clueless, brushing it off as Michael just being "the kid" he raised.

Rocky's apartment, now looking more like a warm, lived-in home

Michael, now a young man, had finished his homeschooling under Rocky’s arrangement. Eighteen years had shaped him into a sharp, kind, but cautious soul, forever grateful for Won and silently respectful of Rocky.

Ten years had gone by since that night Won met Rocky on the street. From runaway and street thief to one of the most trusted men in Rocky's life, Won’s world changed more than he could have imagined.

----

Michael always dropped by the office to see Won—it had become part of his routine, a quiet excuse to hover near him.

That afternoon, Won was leaning casually against Rocky’s desk, laughing lightly with a young secretary who clearly couldn’t hide her fascination with him. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, and that effortless smirk tugged at his lips—the one that made people fall for him without even realizing it.

Michael lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold. His chest tightened in a way he didn’t want to admit.

Won finally noticed him and raised a hand in greeting, his grin still intact.

“Hey, kid. You’re here early.”

Michael’s tone was flat, almost clipped.

 “Rocky said you needed help with something.”

Won tilted his head, the grin twisting playfully. 

“Oh, yeah, but you could’ve waited downstairs. Jealous of my new friend?”

The words were light, teasing—but the effect wasn’t. Michael’s eyes widened for just a second before he quickly looked away, trying to mask it.

“Why would I be?” he muttered.

Won chuckled softly, though the sound was quieter now.

 “No reason.”

But the look stuck with him. Michael had always been clingy, sure—but this was different. There was a weight in his stare, something unspoken pressing between them. A heaviness Won could no longer pretend not to notice.

____

Later that night, at home…

Won sprawled across the couch, papers in hand, his shirt half untucked and hair a little messy. The soft lamplight painted him in warm tones, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed how long the day had been.

Michael sat down beside him, unusually quiet. His silence lingered long enough that Won lowered the papers, glancing sideways with a teasing smirk.

“Still mad about earlier?”

 Won asked, voice playful. 

“Come on, you know I’m yours more than anyone else’s.”

Michael’s heart skipped. The words hit deeper than they should have. He turned away quickly, cheeks warming.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

Won chuckled, softer this time, and reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Only for you, brat.”

Michael bit down a smile, but the heaviness in his chest didn’t fade.

---

The next day…

Michael unlocked the door, expecting the usual quiet hum of their small apartment. Instead—he froze.

A stranger sat comfortably on their couch, legs crossed, cigarette between his fingers. He was about Michael’s age, sharp-eyed, with a smirk that screamed trouble.

“You must be the little brother,” 

the stranger said casually, blowing out smoke.

Michael’s eyes widened. His fists clenched at his sides.

“Who the hell are you?”

The stranger laughed, amused.

“So feisty.”

Before Michael could grab something—anything—to throw him out, Won stepped out from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.

“Michael, wait!”

Michael whipped around, his voice shaking with anger and confusion.

“Why is some random guy sitting in our house?!”

Won rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish.

“He’s… someone I was seeing.”

Michael’s chest tightened, his fists curling tighter.

“You let someone like that in our home?”

The stranger stood, smirk never leaving his face. He flicked the cigarette into the ashtray and stretched lazily.

“Relax. I’m leaving.”

But the damage was already done. Michael’s gaze lingered on Won, burning with something deeper than anger.

Won closed the door behind the man with an easy chuckle, as if nothing had happened. But when he turned back, his gaze fell on Michael sitting stiffly on the couch, frustration practically radiating from him.

With a small sigh, Won crossed the room and dropped onto the cushion beside him. His usual careless smirk softened, his tone quieter than Michael expected.

 "Hey... I’m sorry. I should have told you. But... sometimes I... well, I don’t exactly have the cleanest love life."

Michael’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. It was the first time he had ever heard Won say it out loud. The admission sat heavy in the air.

 "So... you bring them here? Where we live?"

His voice trembled, though he tried to keep it steady. Won caught it instantly, the crack beneath his words.

"I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I thought you’d still be at school... I wouldn’t just throw you aside for someone like him."

Michael lowered his gaze, fingers curling into fists against hisknee

"I don’t like it."

Won blinked, surprised by the sharp honesty in those three words. He studied Michael, the boy’s face turned away, hiding emotions too raw to name. Slowly, a small smirk curved at his lips—not his usual mocking one, but something softer.

 "Noted. I won’t do it again."

Michael’s chest tightened, a dull ache spreading inside him. He turned further away, trying to hide the flicker of jealousy clawing at him—jealousy he didn’t yet understand, but couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried.

A FEW DAYS LATER

The apartment was quiet except for the faint clinking of utensils. Won and Michael sat across from each other, dinner laid neatly on the table, but the warmth that usually filled their meals was missing.

Won leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Michael push food around his plate.

"You’re quiet today. Did something happen at school?"

Michael’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t look up, only muttered:

 "No."

Won tilted his head, skeptical. The boy’s usual chatter was gone, replaced with a wall of silence.

"You’ve been weird ever since the other day. Look, I said I wouldn’t bring anyone here again. I meant it."

Michael’s fork froze midway, his jaw tightening. He set it down with a faint clatter.

"I said it’s fine."

But the stiffness in his voice betrayed him. Won leaned forward, resting his chin lazily against his hand, studying Michael like he always did when he wanted to peel away his walls.

"You say it’s fine, but your face is screaming otherwise. Want to tell me what’s really going on?"

Michael finally looked up, his eyes locking with Won’s for a moment too long before he quickly looked away. His throat felt tight, words hovering but refusing to come out.

"You wouldn’t get it."

Won’s smirk softened into something more subtle, almost unreadable. He didn’t push further, but he could feel the shift—the heaviness Michael carried, the emotions hiding just under the surface.

For the rest of the meal, silence lingered like a storm cloud neither of them wanted to confront.