Chapter 2

Current age:Namjoon 19Jin 28

Seokjin was on his way to a late dinner with his colleagues, celebrating the end of their final shoot day. The group gathered at a lively barbecue restaurant not too far from his apartment. Plates filled quickly, voices grew loud, and the scent of grilled meat lingered in the air. Though Seokjin was known for being sociable and easygoing, he had always disliked these after-work gatherings. They stretched late into the night, draining him more than the long hours on set.

Still, he kept up appearances. Food and drinks arrived in abundance, and by the time the meal ended, Seokjin's face was flushed from alcohol, his steps heavy and clumsy. His friends laughed around him, but he was already wasted—his body limp, unable to keep himself upright.

Taeyeon, a coworker and friend who had known Seokjin for nearly two years, he works as an arts director of the film, leaned over to shake him gently. "Jin, wake up. We're leaving," he coaxed, but Seokjin only slumped further against the table, like a discarded ragdoll.

Sighing, Taeyeon searched for Seokjin's phone to call someone, only to find it dead. His own lips pressed into a firm line as he made a quick decision. "I'll take him to his apartment," he murmured, mostly to himself. Flagging down a taxi, he lifted Seokjin from the seat. The older man was pliant and heavy in his arms, his head resting clumsily against Taeyeon's shoulder. His hands lingered, almost guiltily, around Seokjin's slim waist.

Taeyeon had always harbored a quiet affection for him. He never voiced it, never acted on it, but he doubted he had hidden it well. Seokjin had noticed—of course he had—and though he never confronted it, some part of him had always warmed to Taeyeon's attention.

Meanwhile, back at home, Namjoon had arrived earlier in the evening expecting to see Jin. The empty apartment told him otherwise, and he immediately guessed his brother had gone out with his work friends. He freshened up, finished his assignments, and had dinner alone, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Jin.

Hours slipped by. By eleven, Namjoon's patience was gone. Irritation gnawed at him. His calls to Jin's phone went unanswered, the device switched off. His chest tightened, a heat rising in his blood as worry bled quickly into anger. Without hesitation, he opened the tracker on his phone—an app linked to Jin's GPS—and drove directly to the restaurant.

When he arrived, his eyes locked instantly onto the scene outside: Seokjin, drunk and helpless, draped against a man's body. The stranger's hand was snug around Jin's waist, supporting him. Namjoon's vision blurred with rage.

He strode forward, yanking Jin from the man's hold with a violent tug. The stranger stumbled back, startled.

"Hey—who the hell are you?!" Taeyeon demanded, reaching instinctively for Jin.

Namjoon's voice cut through, sharp and venomous. "He's my hyung. And I'm taking him home. Keep your hands off him." His glare was so piercing it froze Taeyeon where he stood. Without waiting for an answer, Namjoon half-carried, half-dragged Seokjin toward the parking lot, settling him into the passenger seat of his car.

The drive home was silent except for Jin's soft, uneven breathing. He was unconscious, his head lolling gently with every turn. Namjoon's knuckles whitened on the wheel. The image of Taeyeon's hand on Jin's waist replayed in his mind again and again until he felt physically sick. *I hate it. I hate anyone touching him. He's mine.* His jaw clenched so hard it ached. *Hyung... maybe it's time I show you a side of me you've never seen.*

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Morning came with a dull ache behind Jin's eyes. He groaned as he sat up, his head heavy from the previous night's drinking. After a long, cold shower, he felt somewhat alive again. Wanting to make the morning feel normal, he decided to prepare breakfast. It had been nearly two weeks since he and Namjoon had shared a meal together, and the thought of it warmed him.

In the kitchen, Jin worked quietly, slicing vegetables, whisking eggs, the aroma of broth filling the air. He didn't notice Namjoon standing at the doorway, watching him with an unreadable expression.

"Namjoon-ah, morning," Jin greeted when he finally caught sight of him. His voice was cheerful, though slightly hoarse. "Set the table. Breakfast's almost ready."

Instead of replying, Namjoon stepped forward and slid his arms firmly around Jin's waist, pressing his chest against his back. Jin froze, startled, the spatula in his hand hovering above the pan.

"Hyung," Namjoon whispered near his ear, his breath warm, "I missed you." His grip tightened possessively.

Jin chuckled awkwardly, trying to lighten the moment. "Ah, Namjoon-ah, I missed my baby brother too. But what's this? You haven't hugged me like this in years."

Namjoon rested his chin on Jin's shoulder, unwilling to let go. "I'm not a kid anymore, hyung. And I will hug you more from now on."

Jin laughed softly, switching off the stove. "Okay now set the table before the food gets cold."

Namjoon obeyed, though his eyes lingered on Jin with a quiet hunger.

They ate together, Jin focused on his food while Namjoon watched him intently. His gaze kept drifting to his hyung's lips—soft, pink, plump. Every bite made him ache to steal a kiss, to sink his teeth into them. He clenched his fists beneath the table.

"Hyung," he said suddenly, eyes fixed on those lips, "let's watch a movie tonight."

Jin smiled. "Sure. You pick one."

But before he could continue, his phone buzzed. A notification lit the screen: *Taeyeon — Did you get home safe yesterday?* Jin's lips curved, and his cheeks warmed as he typed a reply. *Yes, I'm home safe, having breakfast with my brother.*

Namjoon's stomach churned. His voice was sharp when he asked, "Hyung, who's making you smile like that?"

Jin, embarrassed, admitted, "It's Taeyeon. He just wanted to know if I got home safely." His cheeks flushed deeper. "He's sweet like that."

Namjoon's jaw tightened. "Are you... dating him?" His tone was stiff, accusing.

Jin laughed, reaching to pinch Namjoon's cheek. "Don't be silly. No, we're not dating. But... I kind of like him. He's a good guy."

Namjoon pushed his plate away, appetite gone. "I'm full. I'll wash the dishes." His voice was clipped.

That night, after dinner, Namjoon entered Jin's room. Jin was lying comfortably on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He set it aside when Namjoon came in.

"Have you picked a movie?" Jin asked.

"Yeah. *The Call.* It's a thriller."

"Sounds good. Put it on."

They watched together in the dim room. Jin's attention never wavered from the screen, but Namjoon's eyes burned holes into him. His gaze lingered shamelessly on the smooth skin of Jin's thighs revealed by his shorts, the urge to touch nearly unbearable.

When the movie ended, Jin stretched, yawning. "That was good. We should watch more movies together." He pulled the blanket over himself. "Namjoon-ah... will you sleep here tonight? It's been years since you stayed beside me. Back then you always hugged me in your sleep. It was cute."

Namjoon's lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. "Hyung, you're the only person I never want to keep distance from."

Jin laughed softly and turned off the light. "That's nice to hear. Now, let's sleep."

As Jin's breathing evened, Namjoon lay awake, staring at his face in the dark. From his delicate eyelashes to his soft lips—every feature pulled him deeper into obsession.

That night, Namjoon slept with Jin by his side, finally content.