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Rome knew it didn’t make sense that their mother was suddenly unavailable for the birthday dinner she had planned to host. Just last night, during dinner, she had asked him if he had any special requests. Rome, the spoiled youngest, had said it didn’t matter, that he would be happy with anything their mother prepared.
She had put him to bed like a child, kissed him goodnight, and gone off to rest. What he hadn’t expected was to wake up to a message from her, sent at dawn.
N’Rome, Mom needs to do something urgent for Dad while he’s away. Enjoy your free days and I’ll see you at home.
Rome read the message several times before it finally sank in. First, his mother had left. Second, he was spending his birthday in Thailand without the presence of their parents or work. And lastly, he finally got to spend time with Mok on his special day.
Then again, with his mother, a lot of things were unpredictable and those things do not making sense most of the time. So whatever is the reason she had to return to Russia, as long as she was safe, Rome would be thankful for the free birthday pass.
That thought motivated him to get up and get ready for the day.
“Good morning, Mok!”
He greeted Mok, who was standing at the foot of the stairs with so much enthusiasm that the bodyguard cum secretary raised a brow, unconsciously tilting his head. Rome almost reached out to pinch his cheek when Mok recovered and gave him a nod.
“Good morning, K’Kritdanai.”
The greeting made Rome roll his eyes. This was something he really needed to address soon… at least before he left.
“Is P’Kian up? Where is he?” Rome walked past him, heading toward the main garden, the place his brother often stayed. He immediately noticed how Mok almost fell into step beside him, subtly trying to get ahead. That made Rome raise a brow as he picked up his pace.
His suspicions never failed him. He stopped short and saw his brother taking a selfie (several times?!) and he hadn’t stopped smiling as he used his phone.
Rome’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Mok who looked defeated. He huffed and walked forward, finally announcing his presence to his brother. If he could, he would have taken a photo of his face when he noticed him.
“Sorry. I couldn’t stop him in time,” Mok spoke before Rome could even open his mouth. Rome sighed.
“I saw that. You were smiling just now.” He addressed his brother, whose expression immediately shifted, something akin to irritation, like someone disturbed while talking to their crush. It looked familiar… the same expression Rome saw in the mirror whenever his brother interrupted his time with Mok.
“What’s your business?”
Rome smiled as he looked at him.
“Tomorrow, Mom is not free anymore. The plan is off.”
Rome had hoped his brother would catch on immediately, but for all of Theerakit Kian Arseni’s brilliance in business, his emotional intelligence still needed work.
“What? Your birthday dinner is off?” Thee almost looked upset on his behalf. “But she’s the host.”
Rome nearly rolled his eyes.
“Why are you so slow with things like this?”
Thee huffed. “Why beat around the bush? Just say what you want to say.”
Rome took a deep breath and looked at his brother.
“I want to spend time alone with him.” He let that hang, knowing his brother understood. Then his gaze flicked to his brother’s phone. “You’re free to go wherever you want, P’Kian.” He saw realization dawn on his brother’s face. “Dinner tomorrow is cancelled.”
Saying it felt like sealing something official.
“What did you say?!”
“You heard me.”
Rome didn’t wait for a reply. He turned around to leave, but seeing Mok reminded him of the birthday present he had been asking for every time he got a chance.
“Oh.” Rome turned back to his brother. “It’d be great if you could give me your secretary as my birthday present.”
“In your dreams.”
His brother’s quick answer made Rome roll his eyes, a tantrum already at the tip of his tongue. Every. Single. Year. He never missed asking this from his brother… and from Mok.
“So mean.” Rome made sure his brother heard it. “Both the boss,” he turned to Mok, “and the employee.”
Rome fully turned to leave, but not without pausing to look at Mok, displeasure written clearly across his face, before walking past him.
“Hang in there, Mok.”
Rome paused when he heard his brother’s voice.
“Yes, boss.” Mok’s reply almost made Rome huff and roll his eyes. “Yeah… hang in there too, Rome.” he murmured to himself.
Just as Rome was about to take another step, his brother spoke again.
“Mok, I need your help with something.”
Rome unconsciously clenched his fists inside his pockets. He sighed and shook his head. Whatever happened, Mok’s loyalty would always lie with his P’Kian first.
Rome spent the rest of the morning planning what he wanted to do for his birthday. They had stopped celebrating birthdays once they reached seven years old. That was when they were introduced to the brutal world of the mafia, the world their father reigned over. Countless self-defense classes were piled on top of their academics.
When it came to academics, his brother excelled. But when it came to fighting, no matter the form, that was Rome’s territory.
Since then, birthdays have never been celebrated. It became just another normal day… well, in front of their father, at least. Their mother still tried to make it special. A gift placed beside their bed, a slice of cake tucked into their lunch box, a slightly extravagant dinner “just because” she felt like it, and more. Their father surely knew, but chose not to mention anything as long as his wife was happy.
Then they grew older. Boarding school. Studying abroad. Managing work in different countries. And birthdays slowly turned into ordinary days.
With his nearly three decades of life, this was the first time Rome got to plan his own birthday, and honestly, he had no idea what to do. He had too many ideas and no direction. He needed help.
“K’Krit.” The person on the other line answered after the first ring.
“Alof, I need your help.”
“Tell me what I need to do, K’Krit.” The tone remained professional, making Rome sigh.
“Alof, it’s my birthday tomorrow.” He knew he sounded like he was reminding him, well, somehow, he was.
“I… am aware, K’Krit.”
Rome rolled his eyes at the response from his bodyguard cum secretary.
“Mom left for Russia. I have the day to myself. I want to spend it with Mok. What do you think we should do?”
Alof pressed his lips together as he listened to his master’s dilemma. He had handled countless tasks for and with the youngest Arseni. But this? This was easily the hardest. Anything involving Mok always was.
“Khun… what ideas do you have in mind?” he asked carefully, his other hand already opening his tablet, ready to take notes and review options.
“I’m thinking of going to the beach,” Rome replied with a smile. He hadn’t been to a beach in Thailand since he was a child. And deep down, he knew Mok had never really enjoyed such simple things in life. If he could only--
“That can be arranged, K’Krit. There are several beaches near Bangkok where the family owns properties and resorts. I can narrow them down with you.” Alof was already filtering locations as he spoke.
“The closest one. I don’t want to waste time traveling.”
Alof pressed his lips together as he clicked on an option.
“K’Krit… there is one… but K’Thee is there.”
That made Rome sit up straight.
“P’Kian left for the beach?” Whatever his brother had asked Mok’s help with it had to be related… and he knew it was related to the reason why he was grinning over his phone at eight in the morning.
“Yes, Khun. K’Thee arrived at eleven hundred hours,” Alof confirmed.
“I see.” Rome bit his lower lip as his gaze drifted to the unicorn painting in his childhood room. This was the same room he stayed in during family vacations when he was younger, the little stars and moons still painted on the ceiling. The unicorn had been one of his mother’s random purchases that somehow ended up on his wall.
Rome sighed.
“Choose another one. I don’t want to disturb P’Kian or be the subject of his irritation on my birthday.”
“Don’t you want to spend it with your brother too?”
Alof snapped out of his thoughts, eyes widening in disbelief. Had he really just said that?
“Er, Khun –”
“Alof.” There was a clear warning in Rome’s tone.
“I’m sorry, K’Krit.”
Rome clicked his tongue.
“Choose one we can reach within an hour or two. I’ll drive. Set the rest of the bodyguards at a ten-meter distance.”
“K’Krit, I can come –”
“Stay where you are and update me if anything happens.”
“Of course, K’Krit. I’m sorry, K’Krit. I’m on it, K’Krit.”
Rome sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Alof had been with them since they were young – dare he say the man had grown up alongside them. Slightly older, but more than capable, which was why their father entrusted him as both bodyguard and secretary. They had gone through hell together, covered each other from guns and knives, and yet Alof still walked on eggshells whenever he thought he had said something Rome didn’t like.
“Alof, we’re good,” Rome said.
“Okay, K’Krit.” The tone was still too formal, making Rome press his fingers harder against his nose.
“That’s me saying I’m not mad. Loosen up,” he sighed. “Tell me once everything’s settled.”
Rome ended the call.
He checked his watch. It was almost lunchtime. Mok would come get him soon, he always did. Rome wondered if he should tell him now or make it a surprise. He couldn’t wait to see Mok’s reaction when he found out they were going to the beach. He only had a few days left. He needed to make them count.
Just as he stood from the chair near the window, a knock sounded, rhythmic, unmistakably Mok. Rome took long strides and opened the door immediately.
He couldn’t help but smile when he saw him. He always smiled when he saw Mok.
“Hi, Mok.”
“It’s time for lunch, K’Kritdanai.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
Rome walked past him and took three steps forward, feeling Mok follow. Instead of continuing, Rome stopped and waited. When Mok noticed and halted as well, Rome stepped back, their shoulders brushing.
He saw Mok’s expression shift. Mok shrugged it off and gestured for him to walk. The hesitation was clear, so Rome reached out to hold his arm but before his fingers could even touch the suit jacket, Mok took a step forward.
Rome stared at his hand hanging uselessly in the air, lips pressed together as he sighed before following him. He took one long step to walk beside him. He noticed the tips of Mok’s ears turning red.
That made him smile as they continued down the stairs, side by side.
At the foot of the stairs, Mok stopped and waited for Rome to step ahead before following.
Rome shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. He knew his battles--and chose not to start this one. He continued toward the dining room.
When he sat in his usual seat, the hair on the back of his neck prickled at Mok’s presence standing behind him. Mok used to eat with them. They had shared meals in boarding school.
Yet now, ever since arriving here, Mok had refused every invitation Rome made for him to join his meals.
Rome glanced at the empty chairs around him and sighed before standing.
“I’m eating in my room. Bring me two portions.”
He walked away without waiting for a response. He already knew Mok would bring them anyway.
This had become a silent arrangement whenever Rome visited. Mok stayed with him from the moment he arrived until he boarded the plane – leaving only when his brother needed him urgently.
Rome always looked forward to it.
As he sat in his room, Rome could not help but think about Mok’s actions since he arrived. He could still remember how Mok made his arrival felt so formal despite being alone on welcoming him at the entrance. He missed him so badly that he could barely contain it the moment he saw him… and yet Mok’s reply was “your room is ready, K’Kritdanai must be tired.” And led the way inside. Rome had tried to catch his arm but Mok seemed to know what he'd do and had easily slipped away.
Rome looked around his room. It was quiet in a way the rest of the house never was.
His room wasn’t empty, far from it. But the silence here pressed differently against his chest. The curtains were half-drawn, sunlight slipping through in pale lines that fell across the bed, the desk, the familiar furniture that hadn’t changed much since he was younger. Too familiar. Too still.
He sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands resting loosely on his thighs. Waiting. Just yesterday morning, he had tried to get around with Mok on this very bed, only to be easily maneuvered with his arms locked behind him. Mok’s hold had been firm, but it didn’t hurt. And Rome would always, always give in to him, even in a fight… just like how Mok had always given in to his brother since they were young.
That thought made Rome sigh once more.
Was this adulting? The thing Zack and Vince usually joked about when they were on call? That adulthood had hit them harder than they ever expected back in high school?
When he was young, irritation ran over his entire being. He even got irritated by the cold because it made Mok sick.
Now, irritation still comes in his line of work… but sighing followed whenever it involved his family. His loved ones. The special person who held his heart, Mok. He does not even know why he sighs. Is it because he felt def–
A soft knock came that pulled him out of his musing.. Rome didn’t answer, but the door opened anyway, Mok already knowing.
The tray came first. Then another. Mok set them down carefully on the low table near the window, movements precise, practiced. Two portions. As instructed.
“Thank you,” Rome said, quietly.
“You’re welcome, K’Kritdanai.”
Always that tone. Respectful. Measured. A careful distance wrapped neatly in syllables. It never sounded so… distant… not until now.
Mok stepped back once the food was arranged, instinctively returning to his place near the door. Standing. Waiting.
Rome noticed it immediately. He stood up and sat on the chair he vacated earlier.
“You can sit,” he said, eyes on the plates and then on the empty chair in front of him.
“I’m fine standing, Khun.”
Rome exhaled through his nose. Slowly.
“You’re in my room,” he said, finally looking up. “Not on duty.” He pointed out the obvious.
If the rules of his father are to be followed, he and his brother should not share secretaries. That will breach privacy especially with his P’Kian handling the business fully while he handled the underground. The rationale was simple: When something happens, it is better that others can answer truthfully – that the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing. It has always been when and never if. It sounds cruel… but it is measured and it has worked for a long time.
A pause.
Mok hesitated just long enough for Rome to feel it. Then he pulled out the chair opposite Rome and sat, but only on the edge, back straight, hands neatly folded on his lap as if ready to stand the second he was told to.
Rome picked up his fork and paused. He waited. Mok looked at him and finally met his eyes. After a long debate in silence, Mok breathed through his lips and finally picked up his fork.
They ate in silence.
The only sounds were the faint clink of cutlery and the muted noise of the house outside – too far away to matter. Rome chewed slowly, appetite dull despite the familiar flavors. He glanced up more than once, eyes catching on Mok’s profile, the way his jaw tightened slightly when he swallowed, the way his gaze never lingered anywhere for too long.
Except downward.
Never on Rome.
Rome felt it then. That quiet ache. The one he pretended not to notice most days. Part of him wants to throw tantrums like he was sixteen again until Mok gives in.
But they are far from that now. That Rome had not killed without blinking. That Rome had not learned remorse could be as heavy as guilt. That Mok had not realized yet the weight of every Arseni rule they were made to follow as he allowed him to break them here and there. That Mok had not seen the wider world… or what it could instill in him, what it would demand to change his life.
Those truths settled heavily on Rome’s shoulders, pressing down until he felt full weight.
He cleared his throat. “You don’t like eating here?”
Mok looked up immediately. “No, Khun. That’s not--”
“Then why do you always act like you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be?” Rome’s grip on his fork tightened before he let it drop on his plate. “You’re warmer on text…” his tone sounded like he was mocking… but who?
Mok stilled.
“I’m just doing my job,” he said after a moment.
Rome stared at him. “You used to eat with me.”
“That was before,” Mok replied softly.
Before titles. Before distance. Before knowing better.
Rome leaned back slightly, gaze drifting past Mok to the wall behind him--the unicorn painting, absurd and out of place in a room that now housed a grown man who knew too much and felt too little, or maybe too much of the wrong things.
“Sometimes,” Rome said, almost absently, “this room feels bigger than it should.”
Mok didn’t respond, but Rome saw his fingers curl just slightly against his palm.
“I’m here,” Mok said instead.
Rome smiled faintly, humorless. “You always are.”
The words weren’t an accusation. They were worse than that. They were truth.
Mok looked at him then, really looked… and for a brief second, the distance wavered. Something unspoken surfaced in his eyes, something restrained and carefully locked away.
Then it was gone.
Rome dropped his gaze back to his plate, appetite completely gone now.
They finished eating without another word. Rome just pushed the food around his plate.
When Mok stood to collect the trays, Rome didn’t stop him. He listened to the soft sounds--the scrape of porcelain, the steady footsteps, the pause at the door that Mok probably thought Rome didn’t notice.
Rome didn’t look up.
The door closed quietly behind him.
The silence returned, heavier than before.
Rome sat there for a long moment, staring at the empty space across from him, realizing that loneliness didn’t always come from being alone.
Sometimes, it came from having someone right there – and knowing exactly how far away they were.
Wasn’t he just excited for the thought of him spending his birthday with Mok?
And as if mocking him, his phone vibrated inside his pocket. He did not want to take it out but not acknowledging his secretary will make Alof overthink.
Everything is set, K’Krit.
The text seemed to be laughing at him now. He replied a thumbs up and locked his phone.
Mok stared at the kois swimming around the garden fountain, deep in thought. How could these kois swim freely and eat freely while he felt like he was carrying a heavy weight in his heart after the suffocating conversation he just had with Khun Krit – with Rome?
He unconsciously reached out to his chest. His heart was beating too fast… just as fast as it had after that little stunt Rome had pulled on his bed. Mok had felt his face grow hot, his entire being heating up after Rome casually left him standing there after what he said.
Rome had ingrained himself into Mok’s life for as long as Mok could remember. The moment he stepped into the Arseni household, they became parts of each other’s lives. Even if he was tasked to follow the older of the Arseni brothers, when their differences were settled, he still had the younger one trailing after him – first out of curiosity, and later, it turned into something more.
But growing up, Mok learned more about duty… and then the rules… and then learned that some of those rules were simply too heavy to bend. Slowly, they changed him – his outlook, his expectations of what his life with the Arseni would be. A leading business conglomerate on the surface, and a feared mafia syndicate beneath it.
Rome had never shied away from his affection once he realized his feelings… feelings Mok had tried his hardest to ignore. But what could Mok do against the youngest Arseni? In his eyes, Rome wasn’t spoiled, not really… but Rome had ways of getting what he wanted, even if it meant trouble.
Mok never gave in… not fully, at least. But that didn’t mean he didn’t try to reciprocate… because no matter what, Mok was just a simple man dressed in black, with a gun at his hip and a knife strapped to his ankle… with a heart captured by an irritable boy who made him feel too much.
When Mok followed Thee to college in the US, he and Rome settled into exchanging messages and calls. It was easy, even when he had to deal with Rome’s tantrums most of the time… pushing to visit the US, to study there too.
Then they grew into adulthood and were burdened with more responsibilities. When Thee officially started his perfumery business, Mok became a constant presence, not just as a secretary, but as someone who helped him build it from the ground up.
Rome, on the other hand, began handling the mafia side of the family, while their father, Vassili Arseni, managed the conglomerate. At first, the calls and messages were constant, though many went unanswered in the whirlwind of life.
Then daily calls became weekly… then sparse. Visits to Russia lessened. Most of the time, it was their mother and father who came to Thailand to check on business. Rome rarely did. Too busy. Too many things to handle.
Mok knew how dangerous Rome’s line of work was. Even if much of it involved desk work like his own, it still dealt with machinery--and machinery carried the same danger as those gun calibres being carried on routes that Rome made.
This was the longest Mok had gone without seeing Rome. Almost three years. And so much had changed.
Rome still messaged him. Mok still replied. They still called – mostly Rome initiating. Calls usually ended after five or ten minutes at most. Often, Rome would sulk, wanting to stay on longer, but their worlds never stopped long enough to grant them even one more minute just to hear each other breathe over the phone. So the call would end there.
Rome would update him about their parents. About bodyguards he pretended to be indifferent toward but knew Mok cared about, so he’d mention them too. He barely talked about work or himself, aside from saying he was “happy to hear your voice,” before asking about Mok.
Mok would talk about Thee, a little about work, a little about himself.
“I miss you” messages filled their message history. Those words never failed to make Mok smile. He never replied to them outright but he knew Rome understood his responses. A photo of a burger Rome liked. A photo of a perfume Rome used, one Mok bought with his own salary because it reminds me of you. He never said that, but Rome replied with a crying emoji, and Mok had laughed right there in front of Thee.
Yet the years apart also brought changes – especially physically for Mok. He had grown taller. His shoulders had broadened. His jaw sharpened. His fingers and palms roughened. He was no longer the small Asian boy who caught the youngest Arseni’s attention. He couldn’t imagine how Rome saw him now.
The moment Rome stepped out of the van, Mok’s breath hitched. No photograph could compare to the real thing. Photos were liars. The man standing in front of him looked sculpted by gods… and he had just said he missed him.
Mok nearly melted on the spot. But intellect always won. He swallowed everything he felt and guided the youngest Arseni to his accommodations so he could rest. He saw Rome’s disappointment--but he bit his tongue.
“We are not allowed to fall in love.”
He had said that once to Peach because it was true. Love equaled liability. Liability meant danger.
It used to be a loose rule – before Thee trusted the wrong people. There were no severe consequences to the family, but damage was still done. They were in high school then, older than Rome and Mok yet when Rome found out, he went berserk. He didn’t stop until those people paid for what they had done to his brother. Even Mok could barely restrain him, bound as he was to Thee at the time.
Since then, the rule became heavy. No matter how much the brothers tried to break it, it was too solid to bend.
Mok learned, through listening to Vassili Arseni, that it wasn’t a prohibition. It was a warning about finding true love. The kind Vassili had with his wife.
But could Mok ever be that for Rome?
The thought alone sent shivers down his spine.
Mok never saw true love with his parents. But he’d like to believe it exists each time he sees Vasilli and Nathalda Arseni… yet would that exist between him and Rome too?
The word love has brought a hidden fear inside Mok’s heart. Does what he and Rome feel towards each other equate to that or is this something purely platonic misunderstood as love? Mok fears to know the answer… especially with years and distance between them.
So he tried to keep his distance, but never enough to make Rome sulk. The younger Arseni’s visit was actually him snucking away for his birthday where their mother secretly planned to host a birthday dinner while their father was away in Italy for business.
On Rome’s first night in the mansion, he stayed inside the library to read and drink some wine. That one time, Mok found himself giving in… especially with that honey voice telling him he has not missed him yet… and the way Rome was looking at him told him the continuation of that statement, because he was here with him.
Mok drank the red wine from Rome’s glass – while on duty.
Rome’s stare had burned into him. Heat flooded his body as he avoided eye contact. He knew it pleased him. And Mok… Mok liked it too.
But today… Today felt different.
Rome had made him walk beside him, just like they used to in boarding school. It felt nostalgic. He knew he had evaded Rome’s attempt to hold him earlier… but the thought of Rome’s hands on his arms made Mok want to shut his senses down completely.
Rome had tackled him onto the bed. Mok didn’t know if Rome felt it… how broad and hardened he had become. He didn’t want Rome to feel the changes in him. Not yet.
Then the dining room.
Mok knew Rome would sulk over his refusal to eat with him but this had been his life since the day he was handed his first gun at eighteen. He no longer ate at the same table as Thee. He walked two steps behind his charge. He no longer spoke unless asked or permitted. So many things have changed.
He thought Rome would only sulk.
But the atmosphere and the conversation they had in that room told him otherwise.
Mok hadn’t wanted to leave. He wanted to talk but words had never been his strength, and Rome always masked his feelings with irritation and anger, sometimes subtle, sometimes like an open fire. Mok didn’t know how it would end if he stayed.
Now, he didn’t even know how to face Rome. He could stand by the door, stay on guard… but he didn’t think he could handle that right now.
“K’Mok.”
Mok flinched.
And Mok never flinched. He cleared his throat and acted like nothing happened.
“Huh?” He turned to Ram, one of Rome’s bodyguards, a close aid that joined the team just before Mok left for the US. Someone… familiar.
“Is it K’Krit?” Mok asked immediately, alert.
Ram frowned, trying to understand what he meant and then shook his head. “No. You seemed… deep in thought, so I approached. I hope I wasn’t disturbing you.”
Mok shook his head. “No… nothing’s wrong.” He could not help but miss eye contact.
“Ah…” Ram nodded, then smiled. “I just finished my rounds. K’Krit is resting and requested not to be disturbed until dinner.” He paused, meeting Mok’s eyes. “Only K’Mok is allowed to enter.”
Mok pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. He could already feel the tips of his ears growing hot.
“Alright. Thank you.”
Ram nodded and left him standing before the large garden fountain.
Mok stared at the kois again.
“Rome…”
His voice was carried by the wind as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
If only their lives weren’t this complicated.
Mok still entered Rome’s room after he deemed it inappropriate to stare at the kois any longer. He had also received an update from the team he sent with Thee. Mok felt his nerves tighten at the back of his neck at the thought of their boss swimming across the water to reach Peach – instead of waiting for the boat to be ready. Mok already had an idea which lakorn his boss must have watched to inspire such a reckless (and dramatic) move.
Rome stirred when Mok entered. Mok had noticed this since the first night – Rome seemed hyperaware of everything around him even in his sleep. Mok paused where he stood and waited until Rome’s breathing settled.
Mok could still recall how Rome once confessed that he always woke up earlier than him when they were in boarding school. He would finish his exercise and then pretend to be asleep just so he could wake Mok up, hence the sweaty and disheveled look each time he pulled down the blanket. Mok had asked why. Rome had casually replied that he wanted Mok to bring him breakfast so he could eat too. That memory had warmed Mok’s heart, and even now, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t caught on back then.
During their visits, either him and Thee coming to Russia or Rome coming over, Mok always made sure he stayed by Rome’s side during these rare moments. Rome would spend time staring at him, talking about little things until sleep eventually pulled him under. Mok would stay a few minutes longer, watching his sleeping face, before turning off the light and leaving.
On Rome’s first night here, he had asked to keep the lights on and requested that Mok stay until he fell asleep. The same request followed the next night. When Mok thought Rome had fallen into a deep sleep, he moved to turn off the lights. Despite his careful movements, he was surprised to hear a soft, “Mok?”
When he turned, Rome was awake, staring at him with furrowed brows, as if he had caught him sneaking. Rome had teased him then, saying, “Mok probably likes staring at Rome’s face, so he stayed longer.” Mok had to fight the urge to strangle his confident ass. He knew denying it would only confirm Rome’s words, so he settled for rolling his eyes and turning off the lights. He heard Rome’s hearty laughter before he closed the door.
Now, Mok stood by the door, his back facing Rome’s bed as always. The position made his heart beat impossibly fast, and after fighting an internal battle, Mok finally gave in and turned around to face the bed. It was always wrong for a bodyguard to have his back to the door but he couldn’t help it. He trusted his skills enough to know what to do. Besides, he had been involved in the mansion’s security arrangements.
He looked – stared at Rome’s sleeping face. It seemed like he was truly taking this vacation seriously. Aside from the first day, when he had asked for updates on the local underground scene, Rome had done nothing but read books, drink wine, and sleep. Mok hoped he could get the rest he deserved before returning to Russia or whichever country awaited him next.
He lost count how long he has been staring at Rome. Deep inside, it brought a sense of calm in him.
As Mok watched, his finger twitched when he noticed Rome’s brows furrow. A deep crease formed between them. His head turned from side to side, and he began kicking off the blanket. Rome had done something similar the morning of his second day – the day he tackled Mok on the bed.
But this time, something told Mok it wasn’t just a stunt.
Rome was having a bad dream.
Mok approached the bed quickly and began tapping Rome’s shoulders.
“K’Krit… K’Kritdanai…” he called, his stomach twisting as beads of sweat formed on Rome’s forehead. He wanted to wipe them away, but first he needed to pull Rome out of the dream.
“K’Krit…” He tapped again, his voice growing louder.
“Rome! Rome, wake up!”
A shadow of panic formed in his chest as he unconsciously sat at the edge of the bed. One hand continued tapping Rome’s shoulder while the other rose to cup his face.
“Rome, please. Wake up!” he repeated calling him several times, his voice going louder each time, as if its volume could finally penetrate through the dream Rome was in.
“Rome, please!”
Rome’s eyes snapped open. He immediately sat up and shoved Mok’s hands away.
Mok gasped silently, lips parting in shock. His eyes dropped to his hands, now pushed away then lifted to Rome, whose eyes were wide and red, sweat still clinging to his forehead as he breathed heavily, like he had just run a mile.
“Mok…” Rome blinked, realization dawning over what had just happened. His eyes looked at Mok’s hands as he gripped his own hands into fists. Did he just shove –
That snapped Mok out of his trance. He lowered his hands and stood up immediately.
“You were –” He couldn’t finish before Rome’s phone rang.
Rome glanced at it, then dragged both hands down his face to remove traces of sleep in his system and recover from what had just happened. The ringing continued. Mok tried to speak again, but Rome was already answering.
“Alof.”
Mok stood rooted in place, hands clasped in front of him, gripping one another to stop himself from reaching out.
“Hm,” Rome hummed in response to whatever Alof was saying. Then he looked up and met Mok’s eyes.
Mok blinked. As a bodyguard cum secretary, he knew that look.
He swallowed hard, forcing his body to follow his mind as he turned and walked toward the door, giving Rome some privacy. He stood with his back to him.
Alof did most of the talking. Rome only responded with brief acknowledgments.
Watching this reminded Mok that Rome was no longer the boy who nagged him endlessly though still fiercely reliable and protective of his own. Especially Mok.
No. This man was Khun Krit to many. A name that struck fear just by being spoken. One so infamous in the underworld that even the Thai mafia acknowledged his strength – far more than they feared Thee’s name, and that alone said enough.
“Do as I instructed. Update me.”
The call ended.
Mok exhaled through his nose and turned toward the corner where a flask and glasses rested. He still didn’t face Rome as he poured water into a glass. Only then did he turn.
Rome ran his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply. The sight made Mok pause, his grip on the glass tightening.
“Mok.”
“K’Krit, have some water first.” He approached and handed him the glass, breaking eye contact first. Rome huffed softly and took a sip.
“I could’ve sworn I heard you call me Rome,” he muttered. It was quiet but loud enough.
Mok didn’t reply.
“Are you–”
“Ah, you really had to witness that,” Rome interrupted, feigning ignorance as he placed the glass on the bedside table and stood. Mok stepped back to give him space.
“K’Krit -”
“It was just a bad dream, Mok,” Rome said as he walked past him. “Everyone gets those. You do too.”
He headed to the bathroom.
Mok heard the faucet run. Rome hadn’t closed the door, Mok knew he could enter if he wanted but he didn’t. He stayed where he was.
Of course Mok had bad dreams too. But he always woke before they pulled him too deep. What he had seen just now… how hard it had been to wake Rome… made his insides twist all over again.
When Rome emerged, his hair was slightly damp, a towel pressed to his face.
“Where would you like to eat dinner?”
“Huh?” Mok was caught off guard.
“I assume you don’t want to eat here again.”
Mok swallowed. He could deny, the lie already forming on his tongue but he swallowed it back.
“P’Kong has finished fixing the south wing garden. I think… K’Krit would enjoy the view while he-” Mok paused. “While we eat dinner.”
Rome stared at him. The expression crossed his face so quickly that fear bloomed in Mok’s chest… fear as suddenly, he couldn’t decipher the meaning behind that expression.
Almost three years. Was it long enough for him to lose that understanding?
“Good. Alright. Have the dinner set. I’ll follow,” Rome said.
Mok nodded and turned to leave but stopped when Rome spoke again.
“And Mok.”
“Yes, K’Kritdanai?”
“I’d like some champagne. You choose.”
Mok met his eyes. Rome was smiling – the soft smile that made everything else fade away. Mok took a deep breath as he nodded.
“Okay. I… won’t disappoint.”
Rome chuckled. “I know you won’t.”
There was teasing in it, and Mok couldn’t help but smile.
“Ah, that elusive smile finally made an appearance.”
Mok rolled his eyes, lips pressed together. Rome laughed openly, and somehow, the tightness inside Mok eased.
“Go. I’ll follow,” Rome said as if he was assuring him… as if Mok wouldn’t return to check on him if he does not come out in ten minutes max.
Mok nodded and left the room.
Rome exhaled, set the towel aside, and reached for the phone on his bed. He dialed Alof again, opening the bedside drawer to retrieve his work tablet.
“Alof, give me a full report.”
Work never stopped.
Not even on vacation.
Not even when bad dreams came uninvited.
Rome came down exactly eight minutes and thirty-four seconds after Mok did. When he reached the south wing garden, Rome found Mok standing there, waiting for him, while the food had already been served.
They were all his favorites.
“You prepared them well,” Rome commented as he sat. He didn’t say anything else, he just looked at Mok, waiting.
Mok smacked his lips together before replying, “The kitchen made it specially for K’Kritdanai.” Then he moved to sit across from him, not perched on the edge of the seat but fully seated, posture still straight.
The pleased expression on Rome’s face made Mok smile a little.
“Then let’s eat.” Rome reached for the Dom Pérignon champagne Mok had chosen. Just before his fingers could touch the bottle, Mok beat him to it, stood up, and popped it open with practiced ease. Rome smiled as Mok poured them both a glass. He picked up his own and tipped it in Mok’s direction. The bodyguard cum secretary reached for his glass and tipped it back in return.
They held eye contact as they sipped slowly, letting the champagne’s flavor bloom on their tongues. Rome placed his glass back on the table, picked up his fork, and began to eat.
“It’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m finally catching up to you,” Rome said casually. He glanced up just in time to see Mok huff quietly as he reached for his glass for another sip.
“What would K’Kritdanai want to do?” Mok asked, meeting his eyes.
Rome took a deep breath and smiled. “I’d like us to go somewhere. I just… want to spend time with you.”
Mok’s brow lifted.
“Should I arrange something?” That wasn’t what he expected. He had anticipated a cheeky answer.
Rome quickly shook his head. “Everything’s already arranged. Just… get ready tomorrow morning and bring an overnight bag. I’ll drive.”
“K’Krit-”
“It’s my birthday. At least allow me that freedom… to drive you… just this once.”
Mok knew he had lost that argument. What could he do when that was what the birthday boy wanted?
“Okay,” he surrendered.
Instantly, Rome smiled in a way that made Mok feel like his breath caught in his throat. He suddenly looked young – like they were back in boarding school.
“No work tomorrow, Mok. Don’t forget. You’re not on duty,” Rome reminded him. Mok could only bite into the meat in his mouth, which made Rome laugh.
If giving in… even just for his birthday meant Mok could see him smile and hear him laugh like this… then Mok found himself silently, foolishly wishing that Rome’s birthday would come more often.
They finished their meal in silence, and Rome was the first to stand.
“We still have a lot left,” he said, picking up the champagne bottle.
“Is the pool available?” Rome asked, one brow raised.
“I can arrange for it to be cleaned before-”
“No need. I just need it free,” Rome cut him off.
Mok nodded and signaled the maid who came to clear the table. She bowed, understanding the silent instruction and left.
“Let’s go.” Rome picked up both their empty glasses before Mok could say anything.
He led the way to the indoor Olympic-sized pool of the residence. It was mostly used by bodyguards now, but this was where Rome had been taught how to swim as a child during their vacation.
“Come on, Mok.” Rome set the bottle and glasses by the pool, removed his Tom Ford loafers, and folded his Versace pants before sitting at the edge, letting his feet sink into the water. He turned to Mok, one brow raised as if asking “What are you waiting for?”
Mok took a deep breath, shook his head, loosened his tie slightly, removed his shoes, and folded his pants before joining him for a dip.
Rome looked pleased as he poured them each another glass and handed one to Mok.
“Cheers, Mok. For the time we have.”
It was simple but it twisted something deep inside Mok. He almost refused to clink their glasses, but Rome’s easy smile and soft gaze made his hand move before his mind could catch up.
Rome rested his palms on the rough surface, leaned back, and looked up at the glass ceiling. The night sky was full of stars, twinkling, bright. This is where the idea of the moon and stars on his ceiling came from.
“How are you, Mok?”
The question caught him off guard. It was something Rome usually asked over calls, easy to answer, easy to lie about. But hearing it now, face to face, made Mok swallow hard.
“I’m fine.”
“Define fine.”
Rome didn’t look at him, his eyes seemed to be tracing invisible lines between the stars. Mok realized he was staring. Rome’s profile was painfully beautiful.
“I’m good.”
“Define good.”
“K’Krit,” Mok tried to sound stern, but it only made Rome laugh as he finally turned to look at him.
“You don’t expect me to accept that, right?”
“I was hoping you would,” Mok said quietly, turning his attention to the pool, watching the water shimmer under the lights.
“I’m fine. I’m good. Work’s been busy. I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong.” Rome paused, lips pursed. “I’ve been hearing that from you for almost three years, Mok. You might consider changing your script.”
Mok clicked his tongue and drained his glass. Rome chuckled as he watched him.
“What do you want me to say, K’Krit?”
“Let’s start with you telling me why I’m no longer just ‘Rome.’”
Mok reached for the bottle, but Rome got to it first. Mok thought he’d stop him… but instead, Rome poured the glass for him. Mok took a sip, wet his lips unconsciously with his tongue. He knew Rome was watching.
“You were never just Rome to begin with.”
“But Rome is Rome – especially for Mok. Rome is only Rome. That never changed.”
Rome straightened and turned fully toward him.
Mok looked away, fingers fidgeting with the stem of the glass.
“Mok.”
Rome lifted his hand, reaching out carefully.
That alone startled Mok inside.
Rome was never careful when it came to touching him. He had always been bold – assertive, taking what he wanted.
So why–
When Rome’s fingers finally brushed Mok’s wrist, they both swallowed, sharp and simultaneous. The touch felt like it burned.
“But Rome wants to be only Rome when he’s with Mok.”
Mok shut his eyes and drew a shaky breath.
“K’Krit-”
“Rome.”
“K’Krit, please -”
“Rome. Just… you called me that earlier. I know you did.”
Rome’s voice sounded breathless, like he was trying to convince himself he hadn’t imagined it – that the voice he heard calling his name in the middle of chaos had been Mok’s.
Mok pressed his lips together before finally meeting his gaze. He set his glass aside with his free hand. His other hand was still held, gently, firmly.
Rome’s face held too many emotions to count, but frustration burned the brightest.
“There are consequences-”
“And we both know I don’t give a crap about them-”
“They’re heavy. They won’t just affect you and me.”
“So that’s your way of saying the world doesn’t revolve around the two of us?”
“We both know I’m right.”
“Mok.”
He swallowed hard, defeated.
“Rome.”
Rome’s eyes squeezed shut, his grip tightening around Mok’s wrist. Mok felt like he’d hurt him just by saying his name.
After a few deep breaths, Rome let go. He grabbed his glass and drank it dry, then poured another and downed it in one go.
“Rome-” Mok reached out to stop him, but Rome pulled away before he could touch him again, setting the glass and bottle aside.
“One day,” Rome said quietly, fiercely, “that stupid, unfair rule will be gone.”
The conviction in his voice sent goosebumps across Mok’s skin. He remembered Rome calling the rule unfair… right to his mother’s face.
No matter how ridiculous it was, Mok knew removing it was almost impossible.
But he didn’t say that. Not now. Not when Rome looked like he might break.
“Let’s have another cheers.” Rome lifted the bottle again.
Mok said nothing. He raised his glass and let Rome pour him more of the liquid courage that kept him seated instead of running, reminding himself of all the ways this was wrong.
“Cheers, Mok. For the future.”
Another heavy one.
Rome drank his glass dry. Mok only sipped before setting his down.
He checked his watch. They still have time until Rome’s birthday.
Mok rubbed his palms against his thighs, unsure – but he spoke before doubt could stop him.
“Does… Rome wants to watch a movie?”
Rome paused mid-pour on Mok’s glass and raised a brow.
Mok pointed toward the small projector behind them.
Rome chuckled. “Mok is asking Rome to watch a movie? Has Rome ever said no?”
Mok rolled his eyes and stood, water dripping from his legs as he headed to the booth.
Minutes later, the projector lit up the empty wall across from them, the movie beginning.
Rome smiled as Mok returned to his side.
“Since when did this pool become a movie spot?”
“It wasn’t set up for movies,” Mok replied. “It was for bodyguard training. We project videos and decks.”
Rome clicked his tongue. “Ever the innovative P’Kian.”
Mok stayed quiet, pretending he didn’t know how much harsher training in Russia had become – or that it was often K’Krit leading it.
“Trust Me?” Rome read as the title appeared.
“It’s new. Quite famous.”
“What’s it about?”
“Five bodyguards protecting a celebrity.”
Rome tilted his head. “Let me guess. One of them falls in love with their charge.”
Mok swallowed hard and turned back to the screen.
Rome laughed and did the same.
The movie played, with Mok trying to focus on the screen while Rome barely glanced at it, his eyes glued to Mok instead.
Mok’s shaky breaths made Rome chuckle, earning him a roll of the eyes as Mok turned to look at him.
“You aren’t watching anymore?”
Rome smiled, the kind that promised trouble. “Well,” he tilted his head, his gaze drifting from Mok’s lips to his eyes, then back to his lips again, “I’m watching through the reflection in your eyes.”
Mok gritted his teeth and shoved him lightly, which only made Rome laugh as he reached for his glass and finished it. Rome picked up the bottle to refill.
The young mafia clicked his tongue and turned his attention back to the screen.
“They’ve worked for her for years. I wonder how long that Nut has kept his feelings,” Rome commented, mentioning the main character’s name.
Mok swallowed hard, his eyes darting anywhere but Rome… and the screen.
“Perhaps we’ll know later,” he replied.
Rome huffed and tried to focus, though his gaze kept drifting back to Mok, who was still sitting stiffly straight, cheeks slowly flushing from the amount of champagne he’d consumed.
“If you stop fearing love… I’m ready to be the one you love.”
Rome glanced at Mok when Nut delivered the line.
“Does Nut think it’s easy?” Rome asked suddenly.
“What is?” Mok turned to him.
“Stopping being afraid of love.”
Mok swallowed and looked away.
“It’s not.”
Rome pressed his lips into a thin line, turned back to the screen, reached for his glass, and took a sip.
“I was talking about Nut.”
Mok shut his eyes and drew a slow breath.
“Rome.”
“Shh.” Rome lifted a finger and pressed it lightly to his own lips. “Focus on the movie.” He pointed at the screen.
From time to time, they lifted their feet from the water and dipped them back in. Once, Rome even kicked water at Mok playfully, earning him a sharp side-eye.
“Love isn’t so bad.”
The movie ended with that line. They stayed quiet as the credits rolled.
Then Rome clicked his tongue and reached for the bottle.
“Oh. Almost done,” he said as he poured the last of it into his glass and raised it in front of Mok.
Mok watched as Rome emptied the remaining champagne into his own glass.
“Cheers – for Nut, who said love isn’t so bad,” Rome chuckled.
Mok didn’t raise his glass.
Rome lifted a brow, a question forming, but Mok raised his other hand and checked his watch.
“Two minutes,” Mok muttered.
Rome immediately understood and snickered.
He took a deep breath, eyes fixed on Mok.
“Will Mok fulfill Rome’s wishes for his birthday?” His voice came out almost breathless.
Mok glanced at his watch again before meeting Rome’s gaze.
“Is there more?”
That made Rome laugh.
“Will Mok stay with Rome tonight?”
There were too many ways to interpret that. Either way, Mok felt his heart slam against his ribs.
“I’ll be here until you fall asleep.”
“Mok–”
“Thirty seconds,” Mok interrupted, eyes fixed on the second hand of his watch.
Thirty seconds until midnight. Time was moving faster than he wanted. Rome would be another year older. Another day closer to leaving.
“Seven… six… five…”
Rome stared at Mok, smiling softly, almost giddy over the countdown.
“…four… three… two… one…”
Mok looked up at him, his smile widening.
“Happy birthday, Rome.”
He clinked their glasses together and lifted his to his lips.
Rome swallowed hard and blinked. He took a deep breath before lifting his own glass. Together, they finished what remained.
The tension lingered thick in the air as Rome set his glass down.
“Rome-”
“Just this once, Mok. Just now-”
Before Mok could react, Rome’s hand slid to his back while the other caught his wrist. Mok barely had time to inhale before Rome’s lips crashed against his.
He tried to resist. He really did. He attempted to pull away, but Rome’s palm was firm and flat against his back, holding him in place.
The kiss was desperate – hot – and filled with things too heavy to put into words. Rome sucked and nipped, pushed and pressed, stirring something deep in Mok’s stomach until his lips parted on their own. Rome took the invitation, sliding his tongue in, tasting champagne and something achingly familiar.
Mok moaned.
Rome thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, second only to Mok’s laughter.
When Rome felt Mok struggling for air, he finally pulled back, just a few centimeters between them, breathless himself.
Mok looked beautiful – too beautiful with his flushed cheeks, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as he tried to breathe.
“Rome,” Mok whispered.
Rome chuckled, brushing his nose against Mok’s.
“That’s one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received.”
His hand slid up to cup Mok’s face, thumb stroking his heated cheek. Mok was still trying to steady himself, and that alone made Rome smile.
“Mok.”
“Rome, I -”
“Shh.” Rome shook his head, releasing his wrist and tapping a finger lightly against Mok’s temple. “Don’t overthink it.”
Mok swallowed, trapped by Rome’s gaze no matter how hard he tried to look away.
“Rome…”
Then Rome’s phone rang, shattering the moment, breaking the spell.
Rome muttered a curse as he finally let go.
That was when Mok could breathe properly again, one hand flying unconsciously to his chest as Rome fished his phone from his pocket.
Mok’s face burned as he looked away.
“Hello, Mom?”
That was Mok’s cue. He stood and walked to the booth to turn off the projector. Wet footprints followed him but he ignored them as he returned to gather the glasses and empty bottle.
Just as he turned, Rome raised a hand.
Mok frowned. Rome tilted his head, hand still raised, waiting.
Mok huffed, shifted everything into one hand, and helped Rome up with the other. The birthday boy chuckled as he stood, letting water drip off before stepping forward.
“Yes, Mom. Don’t worry. Thank you,” Rome said as Mok bent to pick up his own shoes, there was no way he was wearing them wet.
As Mok reached for Rome’s shoes, Rome beat him to it, picking them up with one hand while the other was still holding the phone against his ear.
Rome led the way out of the pool area, wet footprints marking their path. Mok followed silently, heart still racing, lips tingling with the memory of Rome’s, cheeks still on fire.
Mok couldn’t believe that had happened.
He couldn’t believe he had let it happen.
And yet, deep down, Mok knew without a single doubt that he didn’t regret it.
They walked across the mansion barefoot. If any of the bodyguards saw them, they only bowed their heads and said nothing.
When they reached Rome’s room, he headed straight to the bathroom and returned with a bath towel, handing it to Mok before going back inside. Mok listened as the water began to run. Only then did he sit, drying his feet.
When Rome emerged, freshly showered and dressed in his favorite red silk pajamas, he glanced at Mok, who was already back in his shoes.
Rome moved to the bed but instead of lying down, he sat and faced him.
“Mok.”
Mok took a deep breath. The automatic “K’Krit” nearly slipped past his lips, but he swallowed it back. He knew it would sour the birthday boy’s mood.
“Rome.”
The name alone made Rome smile.
“Stay tonight?”
Mok watched Rome glance at the other side of the bed, then back at him. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he rolled his eyes.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“We’ll leave early tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here before you wake.”
“Then how will you rest?”
“I manage my time well, Kh—Rome.”
Rome’s lips pouted as he sighed.
“You should sleep,” Mok added gently. “You said you’d drive, right?”
That shifted Rome’s expression. They both knew how irritable Rome became without sleep. He clicked his tongue and finally lay down.
Mok waited until he settled before stepping closer, carefully fixing the duvet, tucking him in properly. Rome watched every movement.
“If you keep doing this,” Rome murmured, his voice already softened by sleep, “I might think you finally agree with Nut.”
The mischievous smile that followed earned Rome an eye roll as Mok smoothed the blanket one last time and stepped back.
“Go to sleep, Rome.”
Rome nodded, smiling.
“Goodnight, Mok. I’ll see you tom—later.”
Mok huffed softly. Sometimes he couldn’t believe the things this man said.
“Goodnight, Rome.”
Rome didn’t close his eyes right away. He just stared at him, blinking slowly as sleep pulled him under. Mok looked away, unable to stand the way Rome was looking at him.
It felt too much.
It was too much.
Minutes passed before Rome’s breathing evened out, his body fully relaxed. Mok knew then that he had fallen asleep.
“Love isn’t so bad.”
That was the character Nut’s final line that echoed in his head. Mok wanted to believe it but every reminder of what love meant within the Arseni world made his chest tighten, especially when it came to the man sleeping before him.
Mok stayed.
He lost count of the minutes. Of hours. He stayed, watching Rome sleep, unsure whether it was due to his fear of another nightmare or simply the need to steal more time with him.
Rome woke with a start.
His eyes immediately searched the room and found it empty.
“I’ll be here before you wake,” he muttered with a huff, shaking his head.
He stretched to loosen stiff muscles, checked the time, and confirmed they still had plenty of it. Vacation or not, Rome never allowed himself to go slack. He exercised quickly before bathing.
Today, he chose a simple white shirt and gray cardigan. Nothing extravagant even for his birthday.
As he stepped out of his room, he was already thinking of finding Mok.
He did not need to start his search as he spotted Mok near the stairs, dressed down in black polo and pants, phone pressed to his ear.
Rome stopped short, choosing not to announce himself.
“Yes, boss. I’ve arranged it,” Mok said. He paused as he listened. “I’ve already called them. They’ve prepared it for you.”
Rome shoved his hands into his pockets as he listened. Displeasure slowly forming on his face.
A minute passed. Then another.
With each instruction Mok received, irritation crawled higher in Rome’s chest.
He finally cleared his throat.
Mok turned instantly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. Gone were the days where he could sense Rome’s presence when he was following him when they were young.
Rome only stared.
“Yes, boss. I got it,” Mok said quickly, breaking eye contact. “Okay, boss. Call me if you need anything.”
“Call me if you need anything?!” Rome echoed as the call ended. “I thought I said no work-”
“K’Thee just needed-”
“K’Thee this! Boss that!” Rome snapped, stepping forward. “Why can’t you pause for once, Mok?!”
Mok swallowed, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“K’Krit-”
“Hah! There it is again.”
“Calm down, Khun-”
“How can I, Mok? Tell me how?” Rome’s jaw tightened, his eyes sharp but burning. Not angry – upset. Deeply. Unsteadily.
Mok knew it.
“Khun-”
“Mok!” Rome threw his hands up, breath coming fast. “For someone so intelligent, why can’t you understand this?!”
He sucked in a shaky breath.
“Why do you keep avoiding me? It’s always one step forward and ten steps back between us.”
“Khun, that’s-”
“Khun this! Khun that! You keep calling me that even when I tell you I don’t like it!”
“Rome-”
“You’re too loyal to P’Kian,” Rome said, voice breaking through clenched teeth. “You always choose him.”
Mok stiffened. Is he jea-
“No-” Rome shook his head quickly, not allowing him to form his thoughts. “I’m not jealous. Not like that.” He winced. “But I am jealous of how you always put him first. What about me?”
“I was assigned to-”
“What about my feelings, Mok?” Rome demanded. “Do they not matter at all?”
Mok opened his mouth but nothing came. He watched Rome unravel, brows drawn tight, face flushed, breath uneven.
This wasn’t the feared mafia leader.
This was something rawer. Something exposed.
Rome smacked his lips together, frustrated beyond words.
“You cling to rules, and yet – you –” He clicked his tongue sharply. “You support P’Kian with the person who caught his attention.”
“What– wait – how–”
“Peach,” Rome said bitterly. “That’s his name, right? You’re helping P’Kian woo him.”
“Khun –”
“So where does that rule go, Mok?” Rome demanded. “The we are not allowed to love rule?”
“Khun –”
“Does it only apply to us? To me?!”
Mok pressed his lips together, chest heavy, breathing difficult.
Rome was spiraling.
“Rome,” Mok said carefully. “We can talk about this. Calmly.”
Rome dragged a hand through his hair, breath hitching.
“Why can’t you understand?” he whispered, voice cracking. “Why can’t you understand that I feel like I’m losing everything I care about while trying so hard to keep it all together?”
The words fell heavy between them – tight, suffocating, impossible to ignore.
Mok blinked as if he had been hit. In that moment, he felt like being stabbed would hurt less than the heaviness crushing his chest. Rome… he’s -
“Rome, I –” He was cut off when he saw someone walking behind Rome. His eyes narrowed. It was Ram, phone in hand. He looked scared, to say the least, like he didn’t want to come any closer if not for whatever was happening on his screen.
“Khun Krit.” His voice sounded frightened too.
Rome turned to face him, expression unreadable.
“P’Alof called because you weren’t answering. It’s… important.” Ram had to gather all his senses to stop his hands from shaking as he handed the phone to Rome.
“Alof.” Rome said immediately after receiving the phone.
Mok stood rooted to the spot. He knew he should step back, give Rome space for whatever work-related reason Alof was calling… even if they were in the middle of whatever this was. A talk? A confrontation?
“No need. We’ve done enough negotiations that it made them feel so special. Proceed with Plan B.”
Mok had always admired Rome’s way of doing things. He was far from as calculative as Thee when it came to business, but Rome always got the job done, faster than anyone ever expected.
“That Thanasak always talks too much! Make him shut up!”
Mok’s brows twitched. That was a Thai name. How was Rome dealing with someone here?
He was trained to listen and pick up cues so he picked that one immediately. One name immediately surfaced in his mind. Thanasak Srisawat. A prominent figure in the Thai black market. Someone already on Thee’s watchlist.
“No. Let it be.”
Rome ended the call and handed the phone back to Ram. The bodyguard didn’t wait for further instructions and quickly retreated to where he came from.
Rome turned his attention back to Mok, but before he could speak, Mok beat him to it.
“Thanasak? Since when did K’Krit deal with someone from here?” He needed to know. He didn’t feel good about this.
The young mafia only looked at him, the corners of his eyes hardening as he took a quick breath.
“Arseni reaches far and wide. Why does that surprise you?” Rome replied as he started walking down the stairs.
“Thanasak Srisawat has been on our watchlist for two years now. He’s been running the black market along with other prominent people.” Mok followed him. “He tried to make deals with K’Thee. It didn’t end well, but we never came across him again.”
“Well, consider him done. Remove him from your watchlist and move on. He’s nothing but a speck of dust.”
Rome sounded as if he hadn’t just casually revealed that making Thanasak “shut up” meant either killing him or ensuring he would never surface again.
But Mok didn’t dwell on that.
“What did Thanasak do to you?”
The question made Rome stop at the foot of the stairs. He turned to face Mok.
“Why are you even asking about this?”
“K’Krit, if there is any danger—”
“There’s nothing!” Rome’s voice rose slightly before he immediately swallowed hard.
Mok was taken aback. Rome… he had never really raised his voice at him. Only when he worried about Mok—and even then, it usually came with nagging.
“K’Krit.”
“There’s nothing,” Rome repeated, softer this time, but his tone was still hard, final. Like he wanted it dropped.
But Mok felt it. There was something. Alof had called last night too.
Rome could see Mok’s jaw set, his determination clear. He should have let reason win over emotion earlier and answered Alof’s call away from him.
“He’s done nothing to me,” Rome finally said. “But to you and P’Kian?” He paused, staring straight into Mok’s eyes. “A lot.”
Mok blinked.
Theerakit Kian Arseni was still trying to establish his footing in the Thai underground when they met Thanasak. Truth to be told, he used to be a simple runner, a bag man back then until situations rose that gave him an opportunity to rise as well. He feared no mafia families—had a severe superiority complex. He believed everyone would bend if they wanted entry into the Thai black market, and if they didn’t, he had enough connections to make them disappear.
When Thee attempted negotiations, Thanasak bit off more than he could chew. It ended badly. A fight broke out. Guns were drawn. Bullets flew. Mok’s sole focus had been getting Thee out alive. The night ended with Mok taking a grazed bullet meant for Thee. Thanasak’s side didn’t escape unscathed either.
When Thee planned retribution, Thanasak raised a white flag, claiming remorse over the countless loss of his men and refusing further encounters. No proper negotiations followed. Thee placed him on the watchlist and went through other channels to penetrate the black market.
“K’Krit.”
Rome’s eyes flicked to Mok’s left arm. Mok shivered as a shadow of memory passed through him, it was the same arm that had taken the bullet.
“Do you know how I felt when I learned you got hurt?”
“It was part of my job.”
“And yet you repeatedly tell me to be careful. Why can’t you?”
“I am careful. But we can’t control bullets.”
“But we can control people.”
“What did you do, K’Krit?”
Rome’s brows furrowed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over. He only lasted two years. Stupid Thanasak.”
Mok swallowed.
“K’Krit, what have you done?” he asked again.
Rome sighed in frustration.
“Why can’t you just drop it, Mok? Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Rome buried his hands in his pockets. “After I learned what happened, I came and dealt with him myself.”
“What?!” Mok couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You did what?!”
“You were injured! P’Kian almost got hurt too. Did you really expect me to do nothing?!”
“But that was dangerous!”
“Which part of you being hurt wasn’t clear to you, Mok?”
Mok shut his eyes, his mind reeling.
“I couldn’t dispose of him immediately. Arseni hadn’t established a firm footing in Thailand yet, and we needed the black market. So I let him taste his own bullshit until he acted up again.”
Mok stared at Rome as realization dawned. Rome spoke so casually… but Mok knew. He knew this wasn’t the only time.
The thought clenched his heart.
“Acted up?” Mok sounded almost breathless.
Rome tilted his head. “All Seasons: One Word was a breakthrough. The previous collection was a massive success.” He stated it plainly. “Local and foreign companies, even the underground, wanted a piece of it knowing how huge its market value is. They knew better than to face P’Kian head-on, so they aimed to bring him down using another way.” He paused as he looked at Mok who was processing his words.
“The easiest way was through the black market.” Rome clicked his tongue. “That Thanasak ran his mouth dry and took their money with a promise of easily giving them P’Kian. You can already guess what came next.”
Mok shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Rome had fixed a problem before it could ever land on his desk… or their armory.
How could this man make him feel so much he could barely breathe?
“What else?” Mok asked.
“What?”
“What else have you done?”
“Mok.” Rome tried to turn away, but Mok caught his arm.
Rome’s look made the touch burn. Mok pulled back immediately.
“What else have you done, Rome?”
Saying his name again felt like drawing breath but the way Rome blinked made Mok feel like he’d hurt him all over again.
“There’s nothing more to say.”
“You should stop doing this, Rome. It’s dangerous. And if your father learns –”
“And why should I listen to you?” The words came out harsh. Harsher than Rome intended. He saw Mok almost fold from them.
Rome inhaled sharply. “Have you ever truly listened to me, Mok?”
Mok’s expression cracked with hurt. He never expected Rome to doubt him on that.
“Of course –”
“Then you should’ve understood when I said you got hurt. When P’Kian almost got hurt.” Rome shut his eyes, breathing deeply. “Why do you think the Adireksarn and the Chirathivat have never touched Arseni?”
Mok blinked at the names of two of Thailand’s largest mafia families. They crossed paths at functions Thee attended – tension thick, exits memorized, guards everywhere. Yet nothing ever truly happened beyond sharp looks and sharper words.
“Rome, you –”
Rome exhaled, suddenly exhausted and burning all at once.
“No matter how dangerous you think it is,” he made sure to meet Mok’s eyes, “I’ll do anything to keep you and P’Kian safe, Mok. Anything.” He wet his lips and huffed. “I need some time.”
He turned away without waiting for an answer.
Rome knew he’d regret it later. Every word. The raised voice. The hurt in Mok’s eyes. He’d lie awake replaying it all, unable to forgive himself easily.
But things hadn’t been okay. His heart felt so heavy it had overflowed earlier.
His frustration on Mok’s treatment and denial, Mok’s loyalty to his brother and those unfair rules…
It all boiled inside Rome until it spilled over.
His feet carried him somewhere he rarely went—the private sparring room. The place where he trained as a child each time they came for vacation. This place held memories of when he was his weakest, always reprimanded by trainers, always questioned by his father.
It had been too much back then.
That was why he loosened his grip on academics and chose fighting. To prove he could endure. And he did. He fought better than anyone. Survived even the biggest opponents his trainers threw at him.
Rome clenched his fists, breathing ragged.
He felt weak again—not physically, but emotionally.
All because of one person.
The person who changed his world.
The person who held his world.
The person who is his world.
Mok.
He feels like he said so much earlier that words could no longer form in his mouth. That was why he needed to leave Mok or else he’ll burst.
Rome’s eyes locked onto the punching bag. With fire in his chest, he advanced and began to punch.
One blow after another. Harder. Steadier.
Still not enough.
He screamed with every strike, unaware of the pain blooming across his knuckles.
Crunch.
Scream.
Crunch.
Scream.
Frustration. Anger. Helplessness.
All at once.
That was how Mok found him.
Even after being told to give space, Mok couldn’t stay away. His heart wouldn’t settle. He only lasted three minutes before he went running to the direction Rome went.
He didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect to find Rome destroying himself.
“Rome! Rome, stop!”
He forgot decorum as he ran, grabbing at him. But he underestimated Rome’s strength. He may have become bigger, broader, stronger… yet Rome still overpowered him.
“Rome, please! Stop! You’re hurting yourself!”
Mok wrapped his arms around Rome from behind, sliding them under his arms, using everything he had to pull him away.
A guttural scream tore from Rome as his knees buckled, his body collapsing backward into Mok.
Mok didn’t realize his eyes were wet as he lowered them both to the mat. Rome’s head hung low before a sob ripped free.
Mok tightened his hold, pulling him close.
When was the last time he’d seen Rome cry?
The realization sent shivers down his spine.
He couldn’t remember.
Rome’s body slumped against Mok’s chest as Mok pulled him even closer. There were occasional sobs, and each sound made Mok find himself resting his chin on Rome’s shoulder, not knowing what to do or what to say. He felt Rome stiffen then immediately relax and Mok took it as a sign that it was okay. He couldn’t remember the last time they had been this close.
As the sniffles lessened, Mok swallowed hard and glanced at Rome’s face. His head was still bowed, hair disheveled, strands falling over his features. Mok could see liquid pooling on the mat beneath them. He couldn’t tell if it was sweat, tears, or a mixture of both.
“Rome,” he called softly, slowly… as if appeasing a frightened puppy.
Rome only tucked his head lower, refusing to look at him.
Mok bit his lower lip, his heart breaking at the sight of him like this. He wanted to give Rome more time but he also needed Rome to hear him too. To know his answer to everything that had been said earlier.
And that answer had to begin with an apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Two words. Just two words and Rome lifted his head to look at him.
Mok bit the inside of his lip at the sight. There was no trace of the feared K’Kritdanai. Just Rome. Young, exhausted Rome – someone who had kept everything bottled up while letting the world decide the course of his life.
Mok wet his lips and wiped the dampness from Rome’s cheek with the back of his hand. Rome’s eyes never left his.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Rome swallowed, clearly trying to speak, but Mok shook his head gently. After all the screaming earlier, Mok could only imagine how raw his throat must be.
“For treating you the way I did. For ignoring your feelings.” Mok drew in a deep breath. “But I am not sorry for following K’Thee. That is why I am in Arseni, Rome. If I wasn’t chosen, I wouldn’t be here.”
Rome looked away, lips forming a small pout. Mok huffed softly at that.
“But I am sorry that my actions made you think I only bend rules for K’Thee,” Mok continued, swallowing before he went on. “Especially about love. That’s not it. I just…” He sighed. “You and K’Thee have always pushed each other to find that… love. And with – with K’Peach, I think… I think your brother found it.”
Rome looked back at him, expression unreadable.
“While for us – while for us, we’ve been dancing to this music for as long as I can remember… and yet… and yet we never cleared things out.”
The words weighed heavily between them.
“Mok.” Rome finally spoke. His voice was hoarse, strained, as if he had forced it out of a raw throat. “Aren’t we just both afraid to do so?”
The question hit Mok like a truck.
Afraid.
Despite all the teasing, the closeness, the familiarity, Rome had been afraid too. He never thought he’ll hear that admission from the fearless Kritdanai Rome Arseni.
It must have shown on Mok’s face, because Rome huffed and shook his head.
“Afraid that you don’t feel the same way I do.”
“Rome –” Mok didn’t know what to say. He had to respond, but Rome’s honesty stole the air from his lungs.
“I heard Mom talk to Dad about it,” Rome said quietly. “It was when I arrived in Paris after they decided they wanted to go on a date.” His eyes drifted past Mok’s shoulder, hazy with memory.
Nathalda twirled as her husband, Vassili, held her hand and pulled her back into his arms.
“My love,” Vassili murmured, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek.
She clasped her hands behind his neck as his settled on her hips, swaying to the slow music beneath the Parisian night.
“I hope that one day, P’Kian and N’Rome can experience this too,” Nathalda whispered, meeting his gaze. “Love should never be a liability,” she continued.
Vassili pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“It shouldn’t be… if they choose the right person – their true love.” He leaned closer. “Like I did with you.”
Nathalda laughed, soft and refined.
“And if they do, will you agree to bend that rule?”
Vassili only smiled before claiming her lips again.
“Dad never said the rule could never be broken,” Rome said quietly.
“But he never said he’d agree.”
“Well.” Rome met Mok’s eyes. “I have chosen.”
Mok exhaled, lips parting.
“Rome.”
“I know how I feel, Mok. I always have.” His gaze flickered briefly to Mok’s lips, then back to his eyes. “But I won’t force you.” He shook his head. “All the time, you act like you disagree, but you always give in to my whims, you always spoil me.” Rome sniffled as Mok looked down. Rome waited for him to look up again before he continued. But this time, I won’t do that.”
“Rome–”
“I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes – until you stop fearing love.”
There, in the middle of the sparring mat, with Rome seated between Mok’s legs, Mok realized something painfully clear.
The world had given him the best man he could ever hope for. If only love can ease all the fear his heart has carried for years.
He couldn’t think of what to say as he just stared at Rome. The young mafia smiled as he released a long shaky breath.
Slowly, Mok closed his eyes as Rome closed the distance. He felt Rome’s breath brush against him, felt Rome’s hand cup his face. Mok held his breath, expecting –
But instead, a soft kiss landed on his forehead.
He opened his eyes to find Rome smiling at him.
“Just don’t go anywhere I can’t reach you,” Rome said softly, hope threading his voice.
Mok swallowed and shook his head.
“You’ve always known where to find me,” he replied. “It’s you I never know the whereabouts of.”
And it was true. One moment Rome was in Europe, then the US, then Southeast Asia – then somewhere deep in Russia where the Arseni reigned. No matter how hard Mok tried to keep up, Rome slipped through his fingers. Like the time he quietly came to Thailand to deal with Thanasak… even the Adireksarn and Chirathivat – without Mok or Thee ever knowing if not for what happened today.
Rome smiled and caressed his cheek, making Mok close his eyes as the weight in his chest finally began to lift.
“That’s why I’m the one who comes to find you.”
When Mok opened his eyes again, his gaze fell not on Rome’s face – but on his knuckles.
He frowned immediately.
“Rome.”
Mok pulled back and stood up at once.
“What – ” Rome didn’t get to finish before Mok was already headed toward the first-aid cabinet.
Rome looked down at his hands and smirked, shaking his head. He sat cross-legged when Mok returned.
Mok worked quickly, opening the kit and taking out the solution.
Usually this wouldn’t hurt – but when Mok gently cleaned the wounds, Rome flinched.
“Ouch! Oy!”
Mok rolled his eyes, catching the act but still blew on the spot to ease the sting… if there is any.
As he moved from finger to finger, Mok swallowed, gathering his courage to speak what remains to be discussed.
“Rome.”
“Hm?” Rome tilted his head, watching Mok’s focused movements.
“Your nightmares…”
Rome’s exhale at the mention of it told Mok that it was a sensitive topic for him.
“They… aren’t always there,” Rome admitted.
Mok looked up.
Rome smiled faintly. “They only come when it feels too heavy here.” He pressed a hand to his chest.
Mok’s eyes stung.
“Most of the time, it’s me not being there on time… not being able to protect – to save you. P’Kian. Mom. Dad.” His voice softened. “Most of the time, it’s me being unable to do anything.”
Mok straightened, still holding Rome’s hand.
“Rome… have you –”
Rome nodded. This is what makes them special. They don’t need to speak of some things, their thoughts could already complete each other’s sentences.
“I had myself checked when I couldn’t sleep anymore. When insomnia sets in.”
Mok pressed his lips into a thin line.
“The doctor prescribed medicine. It worked. It’s been a while since I last needed any.” Rome clicked his tongue. “I haven’t had it for a while.”
Mok closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath as he felt tears gathering at the back of his eyes until a firm hand pressed against his back.
“Don’t,” Rome said softly.
Mok knew what he meant.
Don’t over think it. It's not you. It's not your fault. Never was and never will be.
Mok sighed. He needed to change the topic before he mind tells him not to believe Rome as he knew his action is one of the reasons why Rome felt heavy on his chest.
But as he thinks, Rome spoke before he could come up with one.
“My turn,” he said. “Why…” Rome paused, obviously trying to find the right words to say. “Why are you shying away from my touch?”
That made the bodyguard cum secretary freeze from what he was doing. He did not look up to meet his eyes.
“Mok.” Rome called and slowly, he used his free hand to lift Mok’s face by holding his chin between his fingers. Mok wanted to resist but Rome’s touch was so gentle that he felt like something inside him melted.
Even with his face lifted, Mok still refused to look at Rome.
“Will Mok tell Rome why?”
Mok took a deep breath, the sense of dread and insecurity wrapping him all at once.
Rome let silence settle between them, patiently waiting for Mok to either retract or tell him the truth.
After a few minutes of internal battle, Mok couldn’t take how Rome was looking at him. It just felt too honest, too raw… too patient. He finally met his eyes.
“I’m different now.” Rome's forehead immediately creased upon hearing what he said so Mok continued while looking past Rome’s ear, unable to keep eye contact. “I’m… I’m no longer the skinny Asian boy – I – I… grew muscles, gotten broader, and-”
Each word that came out of his mouth felt like he was picking at his own wounds, he barely noticed when Rome’s hand moved until it cupped his face.
“And Mok is Mok.” Rome said it so sincerely that Mok almost believed him but insecurity still kept whispering in his head. Mok moved and wiggled his face away from Rome’s hand but this young mafia, despite being injured, was determined. He held Mok’s face firmly, thumb caressing his cheek.
“No matter what happens, Mok is Mok and he is still the same Mok that Rome would follow anywhere.”
And that did it. Those words were cheesy to say the least… and yet it undid layers of whispers inside Mok’s head.
“Rome.”
“Do not underestimate my feelings towards you based on how I see you, physically, Mok.”
“Rome, you-” Mok felt speechless for a moment. That made Rome chuckle as he traced him with his eye. Looking from his face down to his body and then a pleased smile formed on his face as he slowly moved his face closer to him. Mok held his breath.
“Mok looks smart and masculine,” Rome then moved his lips closer to Mok’s ear. “But still beautiful.”
Mok's entire face burned as he shoved Rome back. The young mafia laughed, pleased at the reaction he got.
“You!”
And Rome was not done.
“So don’t shy away from me, Mok. Rome will find Mok beautiful no matter what.”
“Stop it!”
Mok felt burying himself and never emerging after what Rome had just said. He should have expected for him to-
“And I am not teasing,” Rome’s tone turned serious. Mok still clicked his tongue but deep inside, he knew that Rome was serious… he was dead serious with what he just said.
Rome just smiled as his hand touched Mok’s broad shoulder. He then softly caressed it down his firm arm, his veiny forearm, and then his hand that was holding the medicine applicator.
The whole time, Mok forgot to breathe. He felt like every touch left something in him that he could not put into words. His throat felt dry.
“Never do it again, Mok. Do not look down on what you have worked hard for. You're beautiful.”
Mok's blinking went fast as he swallowed hard and turned his head to the side, his entire face, ears, and neck turning red.
Rome smiled upon seeing his reaction. He knew that Mok heard and understood his words.
Despite everything that Rome said, Mok tried to focus on the other things that he still needed to discuss with him. Although Rome’s words lingered. They felt more than a confession and Mok is not ready to face that yet.
He cleared his throat as he focused back on his task.
“My turn.” Mok said. “How about… K’Peach?”
Rome raised a brow, then chuckled when he understood.
“I know how you work, Mok. I’ve learned.” He smirked. “So I also know how to get information without you noticing.”
Mok raised an eyebrow. The people in the Arseni mansion, the bodyguards… all of them are handled by him. Is there -
“And before you doubt your people – don’t.” Rome winked. “I have my ways.”
Mok rolled his eyes and continued tending his wounds. He’ll figure that out later and perhaps… It was high time to not just trust Rome’s updates and P’Alof’s simple messages. Perhaps, it’s time to do some digging too. If Rome can secretly do it, Mok can surely do it too.
“I haven’t met him yet,” Rome said, more serious now. “But if P’Kian is that head over heels, then he must be the one.” Then he chuckled. “I could not remember seeing P’Kian smile like that on his phone.”
Mok looked up to look at him again.
“Will you tell your brother?” Mok asked quietly.
“Tell P’Kian what?”
“What you’ve been doing… for him?”
Mok had witnessed how close the brothers were. They were inseparable, with little Rome always trailing behind his P’Kian when they were young. And then he came. A flicker of jealousy had lived in little Rome, thinking Mok was going to take his P’Kian away from him. When Rome was made to understand their situation, he was still annoyed – irritated most of the time but he no longer looked at Mok with jealousy.
They went to school together and as they grew older, they became dog and cat, always fighting with Rome (lovingly) annoying his brother. But at the end of the day, when trouble arises, they still face it side by side. Mok would usually see their mother looking at them with pride and happiness in her eyes.
And then college came. Thee wanted to expand his horizons, to learn more about business. He left for the US while Rome stayed in Russia. Life went on. What used to be casual exchanges of messages about life slowly turned into conference calls about work. What used to be their semi-annual meetups disguised as business trips lessened until they never happened in almost three years.
Mok knew the brothers still held each other as important as ever… but he couldn’t help thinking that distance had carved a gap between them.
“There’s no point,” Rome said, shaking his head. “He doesn’t need to know.”
“Rome -”
“Stop worrying,” Rome said gently as he tapped his temple with his finger. “But if you think he should know… then tell him.”
Mok sighed. He knew this wasn’t a battle he’d win. Rome is set on this.
“How… how have you been?”
Rome laughed.
“You’re asking that after we’ve spent days together?”
Mok side-eyed him as he finished covering the wound, knowing full well that Rome dislikes wrapping them or making his wounds obvious. He then held his other hand and repeated the process while he waits.
“Nothing much,” Rome said eventually. “Dad plans to expand and wants to see the progress by the second quarter of next year. That is what I have been focusing on.”
He paused, eyes drifting over Mok’s face.
“And I’ve been traveling a lot.” He stared at Mok, the way his lashes move each time he blinks, his nose, the way his lips unconsciously pouts when he’s focused, Rome found himself smiling wider. “And that made me miss you more.”
Mok rolled his eyes though he could feel his neck feeling warm. He looked at Rome but when he found him staring, Mok bit down the sarcastic remark he was about to say.
“You can message me,” Mok said instead. “Anytime.” Mok looked down on his work again. “No matter… what timezone you’re in.” He murmured but he knew the young mafia heard.
Rome laughed. “Careful. That permission comes with consequences.”
Mok just huffed as he finished with the other hand. Taking a deep breath, Mok observed at Rome’s hand. It has grown slight callouses from holding his gone. It was not there three years ago. Rome may not mention it but Mok knows that he has been into fights that involve bullets too, countless of them perhaps.
“It’s your birthday,” Mok muttered, thumb brushing an uninjured spot. “And you got hurt.”
“It wouldn’t be my birthday without a souvenir.”
It was a joke but Mok knew there was truth in it as he narrowed his eyes at him.
“Rome.”
He laughed but didn’t pull away.
“Birthdays are normal days. I would have forgotten mine,” he admitted. “If you and Mom don’t greet me.”
Mok sighed as he knew that was the reality of their lives. If only they could all celebrate it like a normal person, blowing cakes and giving gifts.
He remembered the bracelet he made and suddenly, his face felt hot.
“Why are you blushing?” Rome teased, quick to pick up the change on his face.
“Nothing!” Mok snapped, dropping his hand. He quickly fixed the medical kit.
“Mok!” Rome laughed as he stood up with him.
Mok returned the kit and when he turned around, he saw Rome looking at the punching bag.
“It has been some time since someone used it,” Mok said.
Rome lifted his hand, attempting to touch the area that shows where he hit the most earlier. His hand stopped just short of touching it and then he retracted. When he was younger, he could barely punch this without bouncing back. He shook his head at the memory as he faced Mok.
“Should we leave?” Rome asked softly. “I think… we still have time.”
Rome sounded unsure. Not with the time but with the invitation… if Mok still wanted it.
Mok smiled.
“I think,” he paused, already apologizing to his boss in his head, “there’s somewhere I want to bring you instead.”
Rome’s face lit up. He instantly turned excited. Mok almost lifted his had to pat his head like how you pet a puppy.
“Of course! Where?!” The excitement made Mok chuckle.
“You’ll see.” And to add on Rome’s list of best birthday gifts… he nearly gasped when Mok pulled him by the wrist and led them out.
Mok prayed that his boss does not cut off his salary on this… but he thought it was high time for Rome to meet the special person in Thee's life. Perhaps, this will also help out on reconnecting the brothers too.
Rome had not stopped smiling as they started running towards the mansion entrance where a car was parked, uncaring of who they passed along the way while Mok held his wrist. He could not fully see his face but Rome knew that Mok was smiling too.
He did not know where they were going. But today is his birthday. And despite what happened earlier, Rome still wanted to spend it with Mok – no matter how, no matter where.
He looked at his wrist, still held by Mok and something inside his heart unfolded.
Mok might not say it… not yet.
But Rome knew.
He just knew that one day, when Mok stops fearing love, he would realize that love isn’t that bad, just like what the main character said in that movie they watched.
And when that happens, Rome would be there.
Waiting.
Arms open for his true love.
Someday, it would.
But for now, this was enough.