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“Daddy.”
Jaehyun didn't look up from his tablet, though a faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, baby?”
There was a beat of silence. If he had looked up, he would have seen a blur of royal blue turn as his young lover made a dance out of cutting the distance between the door and his desk—prancing in on his tippy toes, barefoot, long legs fully on display in a cheeky lace teddy.
“My favorite brand just released a glassware collection,” Donghyuck said in that sweet voice that always preceded a massive charge on his credit card. Airy and high-pitched, it was a sound Jaehyun secretly loved.
He tapped the screen to sleep and set the tablet on his desk, finally leaning back in his chair. “You have a favorite glassware brand?”
“No, silly,” the brunette said, crossing the remaining distance to lean against the edge of the mahogany desk. “It’s Chrome Hearts. They make clothes and jewelry, obviously, but they just did a collaboration with Baccarat. It’s the most gorgeous crystal I’ve ever seen.”
“Alright,” Jaehyun murmured. His eyes tracked Donghyuck's movements with quiet amusement, his gaze lingering on the loose fabric in front of his chest where boobs were meant to go, appreciating instead the flat plain of tan, deliciously moisturized skin that peeked through the lace. “And?”
“And I want them.”
“Of course you do.” Jaehyun reached out, wrapping a broad hand around his waist to pull him just a fraction closer. “But why the hesitation? When have I ever said no to you?”
“Well… they’ll clash with the Waterford we got last Christmas.”
That caught his attention. Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, his memory flawless. “Ah, the Mastercraft collection?”
“Oh wow. You actually remember?”
“Of course I remember,” he said, a low chuckle escaping him. “You spent three weeks raving about the Aran knits that inspired the cut. You made me buy both the clear and the gilded versions just so you wouldn't have to choose.”
“Do you like them, though?” Donghyuck pouted slightly, his fingers idly playing with the stiff collar of Jaehyun’s shirt. “Honestly?”
“I do. They’re beautiful,” Jaehyun admitted with a relaxed smile. His hands were already busy relishing just how soft the younger man's skin was, catching the fragrant scent of fresh citrus left over from the long bath Donghyuck took every night.
“Well, this new collection is even prettier.”
Jaehyun’s smile turned into a knowing smirk. “Ah, I see. Out with the old, in with the new. You want to get rid of them.”
“Well, I wouldn’t throw them in the trash,” Donghyuck protested, gasping with mock offense. “They can go to charity!”
“Or…” Jaehyun’s thumb stroked a slow, reassuring circle against his hip. “They could go to the London townhouse. If I recall, you spent our entire last trip complaining about the selection over there.”
“Well, those were tacky!” Donghyuck complained with a renewed pout. It was the same grievance he had aired with every single glass of water he drank during their stay there—never mind that the glasses were designer and nothing to sneer at. Jaehyun, after all, would never let an interior designer fill his properties with anything below standard. “They looked like cheap hotel glass.”
“It’s settled then,” Jaehyun said, his tone dripping with fond indulgence. “The tacky Micheluzzi go in the charity bin, the Waterford goes to London, and your new Baccarat comes here,” he arranged, shifting the pieces to minimize loss like he did in every business situation, almost instinctually. “Does that plan meet your royal standards?”
Donghyuck beamed, finally melting completely into his lap. “It pleases me very much. You’re so smart, daddy.”
"Flattery will get you everywhere, baby," Jaehyun joked, planting a soft, lingering kiss to the top of his head. "But let's be honest—you already knew exactly how this would play out before you even walked through the door."
The younger man hummed, curling comfortably under Jaehyun's chin. “I just like to make you feel included in the house decor decisions.”
“Of course," Jaehyun scoffed, a deep, fond laugh escaping him. "Appreciate the consideration.”
Jaehyun was a businessman. He had built his wealth from the ground up, trading penny stocks and slowly developing a diverse portfolio that didn’t necessarily make him rich right away, but it made him a promising asset manager for those who were. It had started with just him, an investment model, and a dream. Now, it had grown into an investment firm that wasn’t prestigious per se—he hadn’t been in the game for enough decades to claim prestige—but was certainly profitable.
He also wasn’t one to indulge in luxury for the sake of it. If a brand couldn’t justify its price tag with quality, he didn’t care how “trendy” it was or how much status it carried; he wouldn’t look at it twice. His suits were tailored because they had a superior fit, his shoes and bags were premium leather because it lasted longer, his watches were gold because it held value, and his cologne was French because it was objectively good.
But nothing of his was “designer” just to show off a name.
In the past, that is.
Now, he went to bed in Jacquard satin pajamas with the Louis Vuitton x Supreme monogram plastered all over them, and walked around the house in Gucci sandals like a breathing billboard. He felt ridiculous, but he also felt the way Donghyuck’s eyes roamed his body in those pajamas—the way his hands caressed him just to enjoy the soft touch of the fabric—and suddenly, all of it became entirely worth it.
“Oh my god, look at this one,” Donghyuck said, tapping furiously on his iPad screen. His eyes were wide with excitement before he turned the screen toward Jaehyun. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Jaehyun looked up from his own reading, glanced at the screen, and offered a calm, appreciative nod. “It is.”
“Should I get it?”
A knowing smile played on Jaehyun’s lips as he shifted closer, resting an arm behind Donghyuck’s head. “Will it matter if I say no?”
“But you already said it was beautiful,” Donghyuck reasoned, turning his big eyes on him with a flawless pout, “so why would you say no?”
Because it’s a three-thousand-dollar black cotton sleeping robe that’s only worth that much because of the DG embroidered into the breast pocket, Jaehyun thought.
“Because it’s polyester,” he said instead, noting that while the main garment was pure cotton, the inner lining was made of a synthetic fabric that had absolutely no business being used in an Italian designer product priced equivalent to a month's rent.
Donghyuck’s eyes went wide. “Oh, is it?” He immediately pulled the tablet back to scan the fabric details, his nose crinkling in horror. “Oh wow, you’re right. Ew.” He vigorously swiped the offensive garment off his screen. “Next. Oh, look—this one is a hundred percent silk. Do you think this color suits me?”
Jaehyun let his gaze trail from the screen over to the warm, tan curve of Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Is there a color that doesn’t?”
“The seasonal color analysis lady said mauve makes me look tired,” Donghyuck muttered seriously, thoroughly invested in the science of his wardrobe.
Jaehyun just offered a noncommittal, amused “Hmm.”
Donghyuck nudged him with a sharp elbow. “So? Cream or navy?”
“Oh, right. Strict instructions,” Jaehyun teased, catching Donghyuck’s hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I think you look gorgeous in absolutely everything, baby. But if you want my actual opinion? That rich cream would compliment your skin beautifully.”
Donghyuck beamed, his thumb already flying to the checkout button. “I’ll get it then!”
It was twice the price of the first one. It was a pointless luxury that Donghyuck would be wearing while completely unconscious under the covers. Nobody else would ever care that it was a Dolce & Gabbana pure silk embroidered robe—Jaehyun certainly didn’t. But Donghyuck did. So, Jaehyun simply watched him breeze through checkout, listening for the immediate ping of the purchase notification on his own phone, a small smile resting on his face.
The glassware was Waterford, soon to be Baccarat. The dinnerware was Hermès, which would soon clash with the new glassware and require its own update. The table itself was custom-made by an artisan who worked with natural wood and epoxy resin; the tea set was from a renowned Japanese master, and even the incense stick burning in the corner was from Chrome Hearts.
The only place in the house where the brand name lost to objective quality was inside Donghyuck’s skincare fridge. It was packed with Korean brands—some affordable, some pricier, but none under the traditional “luxury” umbrella—that the younger man had always used and that had proven their worth, despite not bearing the name Dior or La Mer. Donghyuck did not play around when it came to his skin, face and body included. He chose to stick with the reliable brands he could afford before meeting Jaehyun, rather than spinning the “will this break me out or irritate me?” roulette just to switch to a globally renowned designer house.
To Jaehyun, it sometimes felt like the only bit of him that hadn’t been changed—or perhaps, corrupted—by the fortune that had suddenly fallen into the tan male's lap. The COSRX essence, the Medicube serum, the Sulwhasoo moisturizer, the Laneige lip mask, and the Beauty of Joseon sunscreen. Every time Jaehyun saw those familiar tubes and bottles, he felt like he was looking at a relic of a version of his lover that he himself had spoiled out of existence.
It was ridiculous how the simple sight of the Heimish cleansing balm made him so nostalgic. He loved watching it every night, seeing the mask of the day dissolve off Donghyuck’s face—the slightly-too-light foundation washing down the drain to reveal beautifully glowy, natural tan skin before he even applied a single drop of product. It exposed a constellation of moles that Jaehyun could follow like a treasure map down his neck and below the neckline of his Versace robe.
Nearing the end of this multi-step routine, Jaehyun watched as the younger unscrewed a small, frosted jar, only for his face to instantly drop into a tragic pout when his spatula scraped the very bottom.
“Aww, it’s running out.”
Jaehyun, who was leaning against the marble counter casually applying his own cream, looked over. “What is?”
“The Laneige,” Donghyuck sighed, holding up the tiny container like a minor catastrophe had just struck. “This was a limited edition. I really liked this smell.”
“Pink Lemonade?” Jaehyun asked, his tone entirely casual. “It's still available.”
Donghyuck blinked, turning to look at him in genuine surprise. “How did you even know that?”
A faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of Jaehyun’s mouth. Without a word, he opened the sleek cabinet beneath the lavatory and pulled out a crisp, paper shopping bag, setting it down on the counter between them. “I noticed a few days ago that you were running low.”
Donghyuck’s eyes went wide as he looked from the bag back to Jaehyun, a massive, brilliant smile completely replacing his pout. “You bought it for me? Awww, Daddy, you’re the best!”
Abandoning his spatula, he immediately threw his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, needing to stand on the tips of his toes to reach him. Jaehyun just chuckled, catching him easily by the waist and pulling him flush against him, thoroughly enjoying the return on his tiny investment.
Jaehyun had loved the old Donghyuck, and there were moments he felt a pang of guilt, thinking he had only himself to blame for pricing that boy out of reality. But the truth was, he loved the new Donghyuck even more.
He loved the boy who no longer had to skip meals to save up enough money for the skincare he liked. He loved the boy who could walk in front of designer storefronts and simply point to what he wanted to try on, instead of standing outside, feeling quietly envious of the mannequins. He loved the boy who could lounge in a bathtub big enough for two, sipping a glass of rosé beside a luxury scented candle, without a single intrusive worry about what the utility bills would look like at the end of the month.
He loved him like this: happy, safe, and entirely carefree. He loved that Donghyuck's biggest crisis in life was matching his glassware to his dinnerware, or his workout outfit to his yoga mat.
He loved his bright smile, and he loved being the provider who put it there… even if his AMEX did most of the heavy lifting.
Lee Donghyuck was a bartender when they met, in the most cliché way possible. Their meet-cute involved a very drunk Jaehyun drowning his sorrows in whiskey after taking a massive financial hit, looking so thoroughly miserable that he gave off the distinct impression he couldn't even afford the glass in front of him.
He could, of course. A single tanking stock was a heavy loss, but it was hardly the downfall of his entire portfolio. He just felt profoundly stupid for failing to read the market signs and selling early, but he was by no means suddenly poor.
Yet, to the bartender who had to listen to him ramble about the market and how it had betrayed him, it certainly sounded like he was on the brink of ruin.
So when Jaehyun tried to pay and his card declined—not due to a lack of funds, but because his bank had flagged the overseas transaction as potential fraud since he’d forgotten to notify them he’d be in Korea for the month—the kind server didn't let him try another one. To prevent him from embarrassing himself further, the boy simply smiled and said, “The drinks are on me. It's okay. Just get in a taxi and get home safe, sir, please.”
Jaehyun had agreed in his drunken stupor, but come morning, he slapped his own face—which didn't do his hangover headache any favors—over how idiotic he had been.
A part-timer making minimum wage had just bought him drinks. He had managed to look so utterly pathetic that someone likely living in a cramped goshiwon had taken care of his bill in a neighborhood bar. He had never felt more humiliated.
The following night, he was right back in the same establishment. He walked up to the bar, his eyes focused on nothing but the man serving a tall glass of beer. Sober, Jaehyun noticed things he had completely missed the night before: the fluffy brown hair, the plush lips stretched into a practiced service smile that turned entirely genuine the moment their eyes locked, and those eyes—such beautifully wide, bright doe eyes.
His closest friends would later joke that he had fallen in love after that first act of pure kindness, and Jaehyun would never correct them just to save face. But the truth was, Donghyuck’s selfless charity had made him feel far more humiliated than endeared. It was actually that second night, with a thick wad of cash in his wallet ready to repay the debt and move on, that he fell in love at first sight.
He fell in love with the way Donghyuck's lips widened and the corners of his eyes crinkled, looking unreasonably happy to see a man who had made a drunken fool of himself less than twenty-four hours ago.
“Sir! I'm so glad to see you made it home safe,” Donghyuck said the moment he sent off his current customer, focusing entirely on Jaehyun before the older man had even finished stepping up to the bar. “Are you feeling better today? If not, I know some great hangover remedies.”
His voice was incredibly unique, carrying over the murmur of the chatting patrons with an impressive, bright projection that lured Jaehyun in like a siren song.
“I’m here to close yesterday’s tab,” Jaehyun said instead of a greeting, pulling out his wallet.
“Oh? Don't worry about it, I—” the younger man tried to wave it off.
“Absolutely not. I can pay. Yesterday was a fluke—I'm not broke.”
“Oh, no,” Donghyuck replied in a sudden panic, terrified he had offended a client. “I wasn't trying to imply you were! It's just that your card declined, so—”
“So, I'm back with cash to avoid that from happening again,” Jaehyun cut him off smoothly. “How much?” He didn't let up until he finally got a number, promptly shoving the exact amount plus an extra fifty thousand won bill into the server's hand.
That should have been the end of it. But Jaehyun decided to stay for a couple more drinks, this time remaining entirely sober enough to appreciate Donghyuck's company. He marveled at the way the boy actually remembered their conversation from the night before, despite having to endure the nightly ramblings of too many alcoholics. He noticed how Donghyuck's smile seemed just a tad sweeter when talking to him compared to the other patrons, and how his voice would tilt playfully, teasing him even though they had only just met.
Jaehyun was nothing if not decisive and proactive. It was the exact mindset he used to build his business, and it was exactly how he left the bar that night with Donghyuck's KakaoTalk ID and a confirmed date for the upcoming Friday.
When the day arrived, Jaehyun pulled up to a part of town that confirmed everything he had already assumed about the boy's financial situation, parking his sleek BMW in a narrow alley street directly in front of a rundown pension.
Yet, despite the bleak scenery, Donghyuck walked through the front door looking like he belonged in the luxury hills of Gangnam. His hair was perfectly styled, and his skin was impossibly dewy, enhanced by a subtle touch of makeup around his eyes and a pinkish gloss on his lips that honestly should have been outlawed. Even his nails refused to betray the fact that he worked with his hands all day; they were covered in a tasteful, immaculate beige gel, moisturized to a point that would make a newborn envious.
And his clothes: knock-offs. All of it. Prada, Fendi, Miu Miu… none of it was authentic, yet every single piece looked completely runway-ready the second he put it on.
Jaehyun had originally planned to establish his intentions early and clearly with a massive bouquet of flowers. But in that exact moment, as he opened the car door and the younger man stepped past him—smelling absolutely delicious, faint and sweet—Jaehyun made a decision.
With the same razor-sharp focus he used to execute his highest-stakes trades, he decided right then and there that Lee Donghyuck would never have to fake a luxury he couldn't afford ever again.
Because Jaehyun could afford all of it, and more. And as long as Jaehyun had liquidity, Donghyuck would have the world.
By date number three, Donghyuck already possessed a new pair of Gentle Monster sunglasses, the exact same Miu Miu bag he had been carrying before—except real this time—and a Gucci wallet that practically functioned as free advertisement for the brand, given how aggressively it was covered in the monogram logo.
Every single time Jaehyun handed over a gift, the younger man would blush, smile, bow, and thank him profusely throughout the entire evening. And on their next date, he would proudly wear whatever Jaehyun had bought him. Yet, it still grated on Jaehyun’s nerves how everything else Donghyuck wore was still an imitation.
Jaehyun had originally intended to pace himself with the gifts. He feared coming off as condescending, or making Donghyuck feel so pressured by the sheer expense of it all that he might pull away.
But the aesthetic mismatch rubbed his meticulous brain the wrong way. The man he was actively courting walking around in anything less than the genuine article felt like a personal failure. So, by date number five—with only one week left on his trip to Korea—Jaehyun orchestrated a shopping spree.
He took the young beauty to the Galleria Department Store in Apgujeong under the guise of grabbing dinner. And they did dine—something French and appropriately upscale—while Jaehyun executed his master plan: carefully "clumsily" spilling a glass of rich red wine directly onto Donghyuck's fake Ralph Lauren polo.
Jaehyun immediately did the gentlemanly thing, stripping off his own tailored jacket to wrap around the boy's shoulders. But obviously, Donghyuck needed a fresh change of clothes. There were plenty of local designer boutiques in the department store that could be deemed reasonably priced compared to the luxury floor, but Jaehyun would sooner kidnap the man before letting him walk into one of those and leave wearing something bought on clearance.
Getting Donghyuck through the heavy glass doors of the authentic Ralph Lauren boutique was the hard part. But once Jaehyun got the ball rolling, he realized very quickly that he had vastly underestimated the beautiful monster he had just unleashed.
Soon, Jaehyun’s hands were full of heavy, branded paper bags, and his bank account was bleeding by the thousands as they tore through the upper floors. Donghyuck stuck mostly to menswear, but occasionally changed it up with a silk blouse or a pair of tailored trousers that weren't explicitly tagged as unisex—but on his frame, looked exactly like they should be.
Jaehyun was treated to the ultimate private fashion show. Donghyuck twirled around the dressing rooms with pure mirth, posing dramatically as if he were in the middle of a high-fashion editorial shoot.
At every checkout counter, Jaehyun would smoothly swipe his card, dismiss the gratitude with a casual “Don't mention it,” and lean down for the little kiss on the cheek that the tan male had decided was his standard reward for a completed transaction.
The cashiers would smile fondly at them, and Jaehyun would return the look with an air of smug superiority. He would take the new bag, no matter how heavy it was, and leave the boutique feeling like the luckiest, most successful man on earth.
The ride back to Donghyuck’s neighborhood was quiet, a stark contrast to the high-energy whirlwind of the luxury boutiques. The back seat of the BMW was packed to the windows with crisp, heavy shopping bags, the rich scent of new leather and high-end fabric perfumes filling the car’s interior.
Jaehyun kept one hand casual on the steering wheel, his gaze occasionally shifting to the passenger seat. Sunk into the leather, Donghyuck had been unusually subdued since they left the mall. The playful, dramatic model who had been twirling in front of boutique mirrors was gone, replaced by a quiet boy who kept his hands folded neatly in his lap, his head turned toward the window as the neon lights of Seoul blurred past.
But he wasn't looking at the city. Jaehyun could see his reflection in the dark glass; Donghyuck’s full lips were chewed slightly raw, and his fingers were idly tracing the edge of his new, authentic Miu Miu bag. He looked nervous. Shyer than he had ever been on their previous four dates.
Jaehyun wondered, for a brief fraction of a second, if the sheer volume of the shopping spree had finally overwhelmed him. If the stark reality of the wealth Jaehyun had just thrown around was making him uncomfortable.
As the car finally slowed, navigating the familiar, narrow twists of the alleyway leading toward the rundown pension, Donghyuck finally moved. He let out a small, trembling breath and turned away from the window, his large doe eyes locked onto Jaehyun's profile.
“Jaehyun-hyung?” he murmured, his voice dropping its usual bright, singing cadence, falling into a soft, vulnerable register that made Jaehyun’s chest tighten.
“Yes, baby?” Jaehyun replied smoothly, bringing the car to a gentle stop at the curb. He shifted the gear into park but kept the engine humming, turning his full attention to the younger man.
Donghyuck gripped his bag a little tighter, a sudden flush creeping up his tan neck and coloring his cheeks. He looked down at his lap, then back up through his eyelashes, swallowing hard as he gathered his courage.
“Can I…” He hesitated, his voice nearly cracking before he cleared his throat and pushed the words out. “Can I come back to the hotel with you tonight? I don’t… I don’t really want to go home yet.”
“No,” Jaehyun replied before he could even think about it, his rational brain beating his instincts to the punch by a millisecond. The way Donghyuck's face fell tugged at his heart strings so hard it felt almost physical, the hungry wolf that he kept so perfectly in check berating him for the rejection. “I’m sorry baby, but I can't tonight,” he elaborated, weaving the lie expertly with an apologetic smile and a gentle hand on Donghyuck's knee.
Of course he could tonight, he could any night. It was already past eleven, he had no other plans and surely Donghyuck could see right through it. He was about to say it was because he had an early morning to the next day to make it more believable but the younger conceded before he needed to. He felt the soft press of his plush lips against his cheek, a little closer to his mouth, and then the tan male was opening the door and rushing into his pension… taking none of the bags with him.
Chasing him felt too invasive, but leaving without an explanation would open the door to misunderstandings he would never allow between them, so he killed the engine, and called.
“Baby,” Jaehyun said, his voice a calm, grounding anchor in the quiet car. “You forgot your bags. Want me to take them up for you?”
“No. Keep them,” Donghyuck’s voice snapped through the speakers. It was sharp, but Jaehyun could hear the fragile, watery edge cutting through the anger. “Actually, return them.”
Jaehyun leaned back against the leather headrest, unfazed. “Return them? Why? Don't you want them anymore?”
“I can't,” Donghyuck choked out, the defensive wall already starting to splinter. “I can't take all of that, hyung. It's too much.”
“You didn't seem to think so when you were twirling in front of the mirrors trying them on,” Jaehyun countered gently. “And I don't think so either. It's not too much. It's exactly what you wanted, and you deserve to have it.”
“Why? Why would I deserve it?” Donghyuck’s voice cracked, rising in pitch as the raw frustration leaked out. “I haven't done a single thing to earn any of it! And then you won't even let me… it feels too one-sided, Hyung. I can't just take advantage of you like that.”
“Ah,” Jaehyun murmured, a soft, understanding sigh escaping his lips. “Yes. And that is exactly why I said no to you tonight.”
There was a sharp, confused intake of breath on the other end. “Huh?”
“Any other night, baby, I would love nothing more than to take you back to my hotel. I’d let you look at the city view, let you soak in the tub, order whatever you want from room service,” Jaehyun said, his tone dropping into a low, fiercely sincere register. “But not tonight. Because I can tell that tonight, you feel like you have to thank me with something more than just words. And I will not stand for that.”
Silence stretched over the line, heavy and stunned, before Donghyuck stammered, “But—but you wouldn't be doing all of this if you didn't intend to sleep with me. No man spends that kind of money without expecting something. No man just does that.”
“I would,” Jaehyun replied instantly, without a shred of hesitation. “In fact, I believe I just did.”
A tiny, breathless pause. When Donghyuck spoke again, the anger was entirely gone, replaced by a quiet, heartbreakingly small vulnerability. “So… you really don't want me?”
“I do,” he corrected immediately, not willing to let the idea of this being somehow platonic to even form in Donghyuck's brain. “I want you in my arms, I want you in my bed, and I want you in my life,” Jaehyun said, leaning forward to rest his forearm against the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the glowing window of Donghyuck's floor. “But not if you're going to give yourself to me in exchange for a few shopping bags that won't even leave a dent in my wallet. You can be grateful, Donghyuck, but I never want you to feel indebted to me. This isn't me trying to buy you, baby. I'm just spoiling you. Because you smile so pretty when I do.”
Donghyuck’s absolute favorite piece in his entire collection was a Hermès Garden Party Voyage 41. He kept it in both black and beige so he could always match his color palette, whether dark or light, and he never left the city without it. It was his ultimate travel bag, and notably, the only Hermès bags he owned.
He had every Bottega Veneta he had ever fancied, enough Miu Miu to open a boutique, a few oversized Chloé totes for sporadic grocery runs, and a sensible collection of Coach woven shoulder bags that he deemed picnic-appropriate—cheap enough to set on the grass, but still respectable. He had the Pradas, that one iconic vintage Gucci that resells secondhand for hundreds of thousands, and objectively far too many Chrome Hearts bags.
Yet, only two Hermès. Neither of them a Birkin; not even a Kelly.
It made Jaehyun feel like the most incompetent man on earth to watch his baby sit on their bed, viewing celebrity closet tours and salivating at the sight of their Birkin collections, while their own walk-in closet remained entirely devoid of one. Jaehyun felt like he had failed as a millionaire. Every time he saw his lover pack that Voyage bag with a bright smile, it served as a sour reminder that he had allowed Donghyuck to want for something that apparently wasn't within Jaehyun's means to secure.
It wasn't a matter of price, of course. If it came down to pure capital, he would have bought ten of them already. No, the barrier was that ridiculous, manufactured business model that forced clients to meticulously build "rapport" with a sales associate before being offered the privilege of spending a small fortune on a handbag. Jaehyun didn't have that rapport. Nothing he personally wore came from that god-forsaken store, and while he knew a few trinkets around their house did, it wasn't nearly enough history to be invited into the exclusive club.
Donghyuck had tried to play the game once, but it hadn't gotten very far. And that was entirely because Jaehyun had been an absolute idiot.
Behind Jaehyun’s back, the younger man had secretly pawned some of his own designer bags and jewelry to procure a gift for him. Donghyuck knew that just using those funds would be the equivalent of buying a gift with Jaehyun’s own money, so he refused. Instead, the little devil took the pawn cash, invested it—even went to one of Jaehyun’s market competitors to do it, a detail that still irked Jaehyun double—and cashed out with enough profit to rebuy every single item he had pawned like nothing had happened.
And with the surplus, he bought Jaehyun a tie. Fair and square, with technically his own money—even if it was Jaehyun’s in spirit.
“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy,” Donghyuck had teased, delivering the joke with an excitedly nervous smile, his shoulders squared with immense pride.
But the gift box was very real. He handed over the signature orange box, his eyes shining. “I bought it myself.”
“Sure you did,” Jaehyun had teased, offering a standard, playful retort.
But Donghyuck pouted with mock offense. “No, I’m serious this time!” He defended himself passionately, launching into a proud explanation of exactly how he had pulled off the financial heist.
With every word that left the boy's mouth, the frown on Jaehyun’s face creased deeper.
The thought of his precious gifts ending up in a pawnshop—hell, never mind the gifts, the mere image of his baby stepping foot inside a pawnshop was sacrilegious. Then there was the fact that an opposing asset manager had handled the investment—some random guy off LinkedIn with zero real credentials who could have easily scammed him out of everything. And to top it all off, after going through all that terrifying trouble, the ultimate prize was an overpriced, silk Hermès tie.
Jaehyun wasn't livid, and he didn't yell. But his face settled into an expression of profound disappointment—a look Donghyuck had never received from him before.
All Jaehyun had said was, “Thank you, baby, I love it. But next time, please don't spend your hard-earned money on me. I am more than happy to finance my own gifts. If you want to start investing and have money of your own, come to me. I am certain I could do better for you if, after doing all of that, all you could afford was this.”
The instant shift in Donghyuck's face told him it was the wrong thing to say.
“Not saying that this isn't a great gift!” Jaehyun had rushed to correct. But backtracking was, apparently, an even worse move.
“I know it doesn't look like much because it's just a tie, but it's Hermès!” Donghyuck had defended, his voice tight with raw vulnerability. “It has the logo, so everyone will know.”
“Yeah, well, Hermès isn't the flex you think it is,” Jaehyun had ranted, fueled by a toxic combination of his own lingering feelings of inadequacy, misplaced professional jealousy, genuine panic over how close his lover had come to being scammed, and his foundational disdain for luxury that couldn't justify its utility. “They just fake scarcity with their invitation-only sales. Trust me, I know an inflated price point when I see one.”
It was a lecture exacerbated by the ever-present, crushing stress of running his firm. The result was easily the harshest, coldest thing he had ever said to the young man since the day they met, tracking right up there with the first and last time he had ever told him no at the end of their very first shopping date.
“Oh. Hehe, yeah… you're probably right. It's not worth the money,” Donghyuck had murmured. He looked exactly like a chastised child, quietly folding the silk tie back into its tissue paper and replacing the lid. He left the dining table without finishing his meal.
Jaehyun hadn't even given himself the chance to tell him not to bother returning it—especially because returning a quota-building item would completely ruin Donghyuck's profile with his sales associate, pushing him even further away from the elusive Birkin he so desperately wanted.
Donghyuck did return it. And he never again stepped foot inside that store, choosing instead to love the two bags he already owned, keeping them like sacred exceptions.
Jaehyun could, theoretically, go out and find a Birkin on the secondary market. But he knew the bag itself wasn't the point. If it were just about owning the leather, Donghyuck would have let him buy it from a high-end reseller a long time ago. The true allure was the game—the dance clients played with their associates, and the absolute thrill of finally being deemed worthy of a selection. It was a rite of passage. A status symbol that couldn't be bought with raw funds alone, but with steady, agonizing commitment… and yes, a mountain of cash.
In Jaehyun’s wealthy corporate circles, there was a running joke that the number of Birkins a man's wife owned directly correlated to the number of times the husband had been caught cheating. It wasn't a funny joke, but it was usually accurate. Lately, his associates had taken to praising him, noting that his young lover didn't own a single one.
“Can't imagine being such a perfect partner,” one colleague had smirked, implying Jaehyun had never fucked up to a degree that required that deep of an apology.
But they had it entirely backward. Donghyuck not owning a Birkin wasn't proof of a flawless relationship. It was the physical manifestation of Jaehyun's biggest, most arrogant mistake. And while Donghyuck never acted like he resented him for it, it didn't change a thing. Jaehyun resented himself enough for the both of them.
The very first ring Jaehyun ever bought Donghyuck was from Chrome Hearts. It wasn't particularly expensive by his standards, but it belonged to a brand the younger man genuinely loved. Three more came after that one, each featuring the same robust silver band and signature gothic engraving. It was high-end streetwear, and it perfectly fit Donghyuck's aesthetic when he was feeling boyish—draped in oversized shirts, heavy hoodies, and washed-out denim.
But when Donghyuck decided to step out looking like an actual doll, he required jewelry that matched the elevation. While he bought his own bracelets, watches, and necklaces—using Jaehyun’s money, of course, but choosing them himself—he made it a strict point never to buy his own rings. He left that specific pleasure entirely to Jaehyun.
Jaehyun appreciated the gesture immensely.
Accordingly, he had filled Donghyuck's jewelry box with an abundance of Tiffany, Dior, and Buccellati. There was even a tinted glass dish nestled in the corner of the vanity dedicated entirely to Swarovski rings which, much like the Coach bags, were meant for the beach, the pool, or the sauna—affordable luxuries that wouldn’t be heavily mourned if they were lost or damaged in the sand.
Jaehyun had gone completely overboard in terms of quantity, granting his baby all the stylistic diversity he could ever desire, but he had intentionally paced himself when it came to the price ceiling. No Cartier. No Boucheron. No Harry Winston. Because he’d be damned if he ended up proposing with a ring that was worth less than a piece he had gifted his lover on a random Tuesday, simply because they had walked past a boutique window and Donghyuck said it was pretty.
His engagement ring needed to be the one accessory the younger man would never, ever take off. And Jaehyun viewed it as his solemn duty to ensure Donghyuck would never want to.
The wedding bands themselves had actually been an easy choice. He had selected a pair from Piaget—the "Decor Palace" ring in 18K rose gold, set with eight Possession-set brilliant-cut diamonds. It was elegant and understated enough that it wouldn’t detract from whatever showstopper he ultimately chose for the proposal, but the meticulous craftsmanship shone through the engravings, and the diamonds elevated it far above a standard gold band. The collection itself was called Possession, a detail that felt so utterly fitting for their dynamic that Jaehyun had purchased both his and Donghyuck’s sizes a full year before he even formalized his proposal timeline. He had been terrified the brand might betray him by discontinuing the line before he was ready.
Whenever his inner circle asked when he was finally going to put a ring on it, pointing out their four years of lovely, harmonious cohabitation, Jaehyun’s infuriatingly simple answer was always, “I would, but I haven’t found the right ring yet.”
They would always laugh, assuming it was a wealthy bachelor's stall tactic, but he wasn’t kidding.
He knew the love of his life like the back of his hand. He knew he was dealing with a man who dreamed incredibly large, but possessed a rare heart that could be genuinely happy with very little. Donghyuck was someone who would smile, cry, and say yes even if Jaehyun dropped to one knee and revealed a ring from a cheap Pandora x Disney Princess collaboration. He would still weep, covering his mouth with a dainty hand dripping in throwaway Swarovski—because Jaehyun was a thousand percent planning to propose on their private beach in Jeju—and he would nod his head, utterly speechless, accepting whatever he was offered because he loved Jaehyun far beyond the millions that had been spent on him.
But what Donghyuck would accept didn't matter nearly as much to Jaehyun as what Donghyuck expected.
Donghyuck had gotten so thoroughly accustomed to the absolute finest things in life—a reality that was entirely Jaehyun’s own fault—that the businessman was positively terrified of falling short of those unspoken standards.
So, when Jaehyun told his friends that he hadn't proposed because he hadn't found the ring, he wasn't saying he hadn't encountered pieces he deemed beautiful. It meant he was completely paralyzed by the fear of failing to provide the exact, specific ring his baby envisioned every single night before bed—the one Donghyuck silently dreamed about when he took off his jewelry for the day, staring down at his bare fingers with a quiet, fond longing.
Donghyuck wanted to be a husband. He was the type of person who almost certainly already had the exact ring saved somewhere deep in his private search history. And Jaehyun refused to pop the question until he was absolutely certain he had unearthed the right one.
Donghyuck’s absolute favorite restaurant was a Korean seafood and cocktail bar named Musaek that reminded him of his hometown. Every time they visited, they ordered half the menu because the younger simply couldn’t decide, and Jaehyun wasn’t about to make him. So, Donghyuck would have a little piece of everything and wash it down with a different cocktail each time, while Jaehyun sipped his Old Fashioned with a content smile, happily eating whatever was left over.
Jaehyun’s favorite, on the other hand, was a kosher steakhouse on Lexington Avenue. Not because he was Jewish, but simply because the food was spectacular. Donghyuck, however, being a far bigger fan of seafood than red meat, had never been fond of it. Jaehyun really should have known something was off the moment Donghyuck inputted that familiar Lexington Avenue address into the car’s GPS, suggesting they go there for the first time in their entire relationship.
That was the second red flag. The first should have been the jittery, anxious energy rolling off the shorter man—an uncharacteristic nerves-on-edge vibe that seemed entirely out of place in the relaxed setting of a date night with no occasion.
The third should have been the champagne Donghyuck ordered when he normally would have gone for a glass of sweet red wine. There were more than enough signs, but Jaehyun saw none of them, preferring to remain willfully ignorant as he enjoyed his favorite meal in the company of his favorite person. He drank a really good champagne that didn't go with the meat at all, but it was what his baby wanted, so he had zero complaints.
Then came time for dessert: a pecan pie split between them, and Moroccan mint tea as a palate cleanser. All standard. What wasn’t standard was the way Donghyuck suddenly set down his fork and extended his hands across the table, gesturing for Jaehyun to hold them. Jaehyun did so automatically, always ready to give affection whenever Donghyuck demanded it, regardless of the time or place.
The focused, almost worried look on the younger man's face, however, didn’t hint at a simple affectionate gesture.
“Daddy…” the younger began, hesitant and deeply nervous.
It would have been hilarious if Jaehyun had confused this for a breakup speech, but he hadn’t made millions by being obtuse. The choice of restaurant and the champagne—so culturally ingrained in celebration—didn’t set the scene for an “I think we should see other people” talk. The alternative was supposed to be a good thing, but the sudden realization made Jaehyun go entirely pale.
“I love you so, so much,” Donghyuck started, his voice a soft, breathless whisper that made the rest of the crowded dining room completely fade away. “From the very first night I saw you at that bar, I was drawn to you. And every single day I spend by your side, I only become more convinced of just how meant for each other we are. You are the order to my chaos, Daddy. You’re the most perfect man I could have ever dreamed of, and you’ve taken such beautiful care of me for so many years.”
He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing tightly over the back of Jaehyun’s knuckles.
“There has never been a single moment where I doubted your love for me. Not one. And I don’t want there to be a single moment in our lives where you ever have to doubt mine.”
“I want nothing more for the rest of my life than to be with you, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to get us to that future,” he continued. “I know… I know I can be a handful. I know I’m a spendthrift, and I can be selfish with your wallet, but I’m willing to work on that.”
Donghyuck took a shaky breath, his shoulders squaring as he braced himself, slipping into a level of raw vulnerability that made Jaehyun’s chest tighten. His hand dived into his purse—a black Dior Saddle messenger bag that by all accounts would have been an Hermès Kelly if Jaehyun wasn’t an absolute failure of a man. And out he pulled a small, blue velvet box.
Jaehyun stopped breathing.
“I’ll stop,” Donghyuck vowed, passionately resolute. “I’ll make my own money. I actually—I bought this myself, hyung. Not with the pawnshop trick from last time, I swear. I worked. I earned this.”
He looked up through his eyelashes, his bottom lip quivering with a sudden, devastating fear of rejection as he opened the box to reveal the ring. A platinum Van Cleef & Arpels 0.30-carat Estelle Solitaire, to be entirely too precise.
And Jaehyun knew the exact specs because he had seen it—and dozens of others—during his own desperate quest to find the perfect ring to do... exactly what Donghyuck was doing right now.
Oh, God. Jaehyun felt like he might actually throw up.
“And I’ll… I’ll sign a prenup. I’ll sign anything you want,” Donghyuck offered.
In an instant, Jaehyun's urge to vomit mutated into a violent urge to punch someone. Preferably himself, for the absolute sin of making his baby believe he would ever demand such a thing.
“I have absolutely no intention of taking what isn’t mine if somehow I mess this up so badly that you want to be rid of me,” Donghyuck cried softly, the words cutting Jaehyun to the ribbon. “I need you to know that this isn’t me trying to bleed you dry. I don’t care about the Amex, Daddy. I just… I just want to be your husband.”
A single tear finally spilled over, tracking down his perfectly dewy, flushed, mole-covered cheek.
“So, Jung Jaehyun… will you marry me?”
Jaehyun sat at the dimly lit mahogany counter of a private lounge, staring down into the amber depths of a glass of high-end rye. Across from him, his best friend Johnny let out a booming laugh that cut right through the quiet jazz humming in the background.
“Unbelievable,” Johnny wheezed, shaking his head in pure amusement as he signaled the bartender for another round. “And what did you say?”
Jaehyun took a slow, deliberate sip, his expression incredibly flat. “What else could I possibly say?”
“I don't know, man. You could have insisted that you’re the man in the relationship and told him to please not emasculate you like that.”
Jaehyun leveled him with a cold, unamused stare. “I’m not the man of the relationship, Johnny, because I am dating another man. I am, however, the undisputed provider, and I do feel like proposing was a liability that fell strictly within that role description.”
“It sure did,” Johnny grinned, leaning his elbows on the bar to lean in closer, completely enjoying Jaehyun’s misery. “I just can’t believe you made the poor kid wait so long that he had to slave away just to buy a ring and do it himself!”
Jaehyun closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “Shut up. Please shut up.”
“Well, I can see you’re actually wearing it,” Johnny noted, nodding toward Jaehyun’s left hand, where the delicate platinum Van Cleef Estelle solitaire looked distinctly small against his broad fingers. “So you obviously said yes. But what else did you tell him?”
“That I love him, of course,” Jaehyun murmured, his tone softening just a fraction into genuine warmth. “That I would love nothing more than to marry him, and that he was completely stupid for thinking I’d ever ask him to change a single thing about himself in order to do so.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually call him stupid during a marriage proposal?”
“I called him silly,” Jaehyun corrected smoothly, though his eyes remained serious. “But the sentiment stands.”
“Ah, yes. Smooth operator. Of course.”
“Anyway,” Jaehyun continued, swirling the ice in his glass. “I told him that if his anxiety absolutely demanded a prenup, we’d get one drawn up by my corporate attorneys. One that legally ensures he walks away with exactly half of everything I’m worth with zero conditions, alongside maximum spousal support for the rest of his life.”
Johnny’s teasing smile faded for a brief second, replaced by a look of genuine respect. He clinked his glass against Jaehyun's. “Wow. You really do love the little guy.”
“Yes, Johnny,” Jaehyun said softly, a rare, completely unguarded smile gracing his lips. “I do.”
Johnny let out a sharp chuckle, the sentimental moment immediately expiring as his signature smirk returned. “And tell me, how exactly does it feel to know that your beautiful fiancé won’t be wearing an engagement ring of his own because your stupid ass couldn’t decide on a single design for four years?”
Jaehyun’s smile vanished instantly. He took his glass, turned his back to his best friend, and muttered under his breath.
“Fuck you, Johnny.”
The Mutiara Ballroom at The Ritz-Carlton Jakarta had a maximum capacity of three hundred people. Donghyuck didn’t think anyone could possibly have that many genuine friends, and Jaehyun agreed, but when the businessman started listing off the corporate figures he couldn’t possibly leave out, plus their respective plus-ones, it became quickly apparent that three hundred seats weren’t going to cut it.
Then their wedding planner explained that three hundred was the capacity if they intended for people to be standing around—which they obviously didn’t. So, they ended up having to upgrade to the Grand Ballroom. It had sounded excessive initially, but once the center stage, the buffet tables, the ice sculptures, the towering floral arrangements, and the dedicated photo-op areas were factored in, the massive space ended up being exactly the right size.
The towering floral arches—creamy white hydrangeas and pale roses that had cost more than a mid-sized sedan—perfumed the cool air, casting long, elegant shadows across the pristine, mirrored aisle.
In the exact center of the room, standing right where they would exchange their vows in less than twelve hours, Donghyuck and Jaehyun stood wrapped in each other’s arms.
Donghyuck was dressed down in a traditional yukata, the simple comfort of it against the opulent, soaring backdrop of their venue making him look delightfully small. He had his face buried directly into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, his hands hooked into the belt loops of Jaehyun’s tailored trousers.
“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun murmured, his deep voice vibrating against Donghyuck’s chest.
Donghyuck hummed, a small, vibrating sound. “A little. Mostly just tired of the wedding planner asking me about the lighting cues. I told her three times: I want the spotlight dewy, not blinding.”
Jaehyun let out a low, rumbling chuckle, tightening his grip around the younger man's waist. “I’m sure she’ll get it right, baby. If not, I’ll dock her bonus.”
Donghyuck pulled back just enough to look up through his long eyelashes, a beautiful, genuine smile crinkling the corners of his doe eyes. The faint, amber light of the ballroom caught the undeniable sparkle on his left hand.
It wasn't any of the many, many rings in Donghyuck’s existing collection. After the fiasco at the steakhouse, Jaehyun had finally conquered his analytical paralysis by realizing he didn't need to choose the perfect design—at least, not by himself.
The proposal had come and gone; the tears had flowed, the “I love you”s had been exchanged, and a promise to join their lives forever sat securely on his ring finger. The emotional pressure of the question was settled, and gone was the rigid element of surprise. All that had been missing was the physical ring, because Jaehyun would sooner donate his entire net worth to charity than let Donghyuck stand in front of over three hundred high-society guests without a rock to end all rocks.
He hadn’t taken him to just any boutique. He had pulled his sleek car right up to the curb of the Harry Winston salon on Apgujeong-ro during their pre-wedding trip to Seoul, bypassing the typical weekend waitlist entirely. The regional director had already been notified that a man with a limitless corporate credit line was arriving to settle a years-old internal crisis.
The second the white-gloved security guard bowed them through the heavy, reinforced glass doors, the atmosphere had shifted. The scent of white orchids and high-end air filtration filled the room, and three private sales consultants were already waiting beside a velvet-lined viewing table.
“I lied,” Jaehyun confessed smoothly, his voice dropping into that calm, terrifyingly grounded register the moment the doors clicked shut behind them. He didn’t look at the displays; his dark eyes were fixed entirely on Donghyuck’s face, watching the confusion blossom. “I already have our wedding bands. I’ve had them for a year now.”
Donghyuck blinked, his doe eyes going remarkably wide as he turned around to face him. “A year? What? Then why did you—?”
“I didn’t propose because I couldn’t find the right engagement ring,” Jaehyun cut him off, completely unapologetic about the perfectionism that had almost ruined his life.
“Huh?”
“So now, I’m making it your problem.”
“What?” Donghyuck stammered, a breathless, utterly bewildered laugh escaping his plush lips as he looked from Jaehyun to the glittering rows of multi-carat diamonds reflecting the boutique's spotlights.
Jaehyun reached out, wrapping a broad, reassuring hand around the younger man's waist, pulling him just a fraction closer to his side. The warmth of his palm anchor-dropped Donghyuck's spiraling thoughts.
“I have only one condition,” Jaehyun murmured, a dangerous, incredibly smug smirk playing on his lips as he gestured to the entire room. “Nothing cheaper than any ring you already own. My ego will not take that blow well. Other than that? Follow your heart.”
Donghyuck stood frozen for a beat, his brain processing the sheer scale of the green light he had just been handed. Slowly, the shock faded from his face, replaced by that brilliant, sharp, incredibly wicked little grin that Jaehyun loved more than life itself. The dramatic, high-maintenance doll was officially back in the building.
He tilted his head up, looking at Jaehyun through his eyelashes with a playful pout. “Nothing cheaper, huh? You know I own a lot of Buccellati, Daddy. You’re setting the bar dangerously high.”
“I am a very wealthy man, baby,” Jaehyun scoffed softly, a deep, rumbling laugh escaping his chest as he guided him toward the plush velvet chairs at the viewing table. “I think I can manage. Now, go wild. Show me just how much damage your heart can do to my patrimony.”
“Our patrimony,” Donghyuck had jokingly corrected.
But now, standing there in the center of the Jakarta grand ballroom, with their big day a mere twelve hours away, it was hardly a joke anymore.
It was their future. An absolute inevitability.