Chapter Text
Mok was disheveled.
It wasn't really an appropriate word. But that was the only way he could describe the state he was in right now.
Usually, Mok was the picture of composed perfection. He still looked like it.
His suit was still neatly pressed, his hair was combed back neatly, and his glasses were straight, sparkling.
It wasn't his outwards appearance that was the issue. It was just— inside he was a mess.
With all the preparations and the sudden, frantic hassle of putting a big impromptu wedding together, he knew he didn’t have the right to be anything but a mess.
The world was felt like it was ending.
He’d moved through the grand hall of the Arseni mansion, checking the floral arrangements, barking orders at the catering staff, and maybe looking for something he could secretly break.
The truth was whatever he was doing, his heart wasn't in it. It was in two different places.
It was upstairs, behind a grand, locked door.
It was on a plane, a thousand miles up in the sky.
Mok had served the Arseni’s for a long time.
Ever since he was a child.
And as well as he knew this mansion— their ancient but sturdy walls, he knew Thee better.
But you didn’t really have to know a person too close, to know when they were in pain.
And Thee? He was in a world of pain.
Mok had always thought Thee would never marry.
He wasn't particularly the brightest bulb in the room.
He was a lover boy, could be passionate, a little aggressive in his advances, but still, he was… principled.
He respected the old rules.
Accepted it.
But things changed— drastically, when he met and fell in love with Peach.
And Mok allowed himself to dream, that if Thee would ever marry, it would be with him.
Peach.
A true love’s match.
And it would be a joyous occasion, filled with laughter and the promise of a long life together.
But this wasn't that. It was anything but. A funeral disguised as a wedding.
Thee was distraught.
After the Master— Khun Thee’s father— found out about Thee’s secret relationship with Peach, all his hope had come crashing down.
The Master didn't get angry…
Not really.
But he decided he knew best.
And he acted with cold precision.
He broke them apart, and he'd done so without mercy.
Thee’s pleas had been shut down and he'd been banned from ever seeing Peach again.
To ensure Thee didn't stray or try to run away, the Master immediately set up an arranged marriage.
This wasn't just any marriage, it was a political move, an alliance.
Thee was set to wed Touch of the Shohei family, the most powerful mafia family in Japan. This was to ensure the safety and protection of both their children.
But Mok knew the truth.
This wasn't protection, this was a cage.
And it was the worst thing that could have ever happened to Thee.
Thee had fought back at first, adamantly refusing to marry Touch.
But he finally conceded after his father threatened Peach and his sister. To save the person he loved, Thee had to marry someone he didn't.
And it had broken him. Completely.
Mok had watched it all happen, helplessly.
There was nothing he could do.
And now, every time Mok saw his boss, he didn't see the Thee. He saw a man who was rotting from the inside out.
The wedding was tomorrow.
The Arsenis was hosting and welcoming esteemed guests into its estate.
But, Thee didn't come out. He wasn't allowed to.
He was caged up in his room, unable to see anyone.
Mok had to be the one standing at the front of the mansion, welcoming guests on Thee’s behalf.
He’d kept his composure, even when he was crumbling inside.
Because— as terrible as Thee’s situation was— something heavier weighed on his mind.
It was his own carefully concealed secret.
A secret that made his hands shake as he adjusted his glasses.
Rome was returning.
Today.
After so many years in Hong Kong, he was finally coming back.
They were going to meet each other for the first time in a decade.
Mok was in a state of unrest.
Despite his calm facade, his blood felt rushed beneath his skin and a lump settled in his throat.
He had too much to worry about.
The wedding, Thee, the Master’s watchful eyes— and then… there was Rome.
His Rome.
Rome who acted like the world began and ended with Mok. Rome who he’d fallen in love with all those years ago, now a grown man.
The thought sent a shiver through him.
Even after all these years, his feelings for Rome never wavered. Not even once.
Even with the distance between them, Mok had carried him with him, like a folded picture in his pocket.
They had stayed in touch through the phone— calls, texts— short, beautiful messages that said little but meant everything.
And Rome never forgot to let him know how much he missed him, how much he loved him.
Not even this morning, when he knew they would finally be meeting.
The memory of that text burned in his mind, sending warmth through him, his skin.
But he caught himself quick, and his unease returned.
The Arseni brothers weren't allowed to love.
Not in their world.
Here, loving someone led to threats and was a weakness neither of them could afford.
The master had taught them that.
Mok owed everything he had to the Arseni family. They had raised him. They had fed him, sheltered him, taught him how to survive.
If anyone found out about his feelings for Rome, it would be the ultimate betrayal.
He would be exiled… or maybe even worse.
And Rome?
Rome would be forced into an unhappy marriage…
Just like Thee.
Mok couldn't stomach the thought of Rome like that.
Being caged.
Being with someone else.
He'd rather they be nothing.
He'd rather die.
Mok wasn't too fond of the second option.
It wasn't because he was afraid, no.
It was because if he died, and there was truly an afterlife, Rome wouldn't be in it.
To call him, to ask how his morning was, if he'd had breakfast yet. To whisper sweet little nothings in his ear— things Mok pretended didn’t make him melt into an embarrassing puddle or want to squeal like a schoolgirl.
So he settled for the former.
Told himself that's all they could be.
Nothing.
Steadying himself, straightening his sleeve that wasn't rumpled, he stood at the front of the mansion…
And he waited.
Nervously.
Patiently impatient.
Rome would arrive any minute now.
Mok had already sent a car to the airport to pick him up.
He reminded himself he would be professional. When Rome arrived, Mok would treat him as he was meant to— as he’d been raised to.
Rome was the boss.
He was the subordinate.
Nothing else.
Nothing more.
Nothing.
It was all for the best.
A necessary sacrifice he had to make.
He had to protect their love, he had to protect his position, and most importantly, he had to protect Rome from a miserable future.
It was already decided.
Yet somehow… he was still afraid.
Not only of this… but something else.
Something a little personal, more insecure.
The truth was, the last time he’d seen Rome, they’d been children.
Back then, Mok’s body had been younger, softer. He had been slender, smoother, free of the scars that now marked his shoulders, his chest and his back.
But he was bigger now, stronger, marked by years of duty and the violence that came with living in their world.
He probably wasn’t Rome’s type anymore.
Rome had seen the world.
He had lived around the beautiful people of Hong Kong.
Why would he want him?
A scarred soldier who had nothing to offer?
Mok shuddered at the thought.
He tried to convince himself that this was probably a good thing.
If Rome wasn't attracted to him anymore, it would make it easier to pull away. It would soften the blow.
Mok should have been relived.
But instead, he was afraid, terrified even.
He didn't think he could bear it if Rome looked at him with eyes that were cold or indifferent.
Or worse… disappointed.
He still wanted to see the old Rome— the one whose eyes were doting and full of earnest adoration… the one who looked at him like he was sun and the moon the world revolved around.
Mok was beyond nervous, in an obvious dilemma, he didn’t know the right answer to.
And that nicked a big crack in his armor.
The car soon appeared in his line of sight, the black SUV moving up the long driveway.
Mok’s heart started racing, slamming against his ribs like it wanted to rip out of his chest. His pulse quickened, drumming frantically in his ears.
But he kept his composure.
He clasped his hands in front of him— not rigid, well not exactly. He looked… relaxed, but just barely. While his years of discipline had taught him how to always keep his mask on, he'd never face a moment as terrifying as this one.
Not even the multiple gun fights he'd been in could compare.
But he reminded himself he was a professional, a shield.
He could handle this.
The car soon slowed, pulling to a halt in front of him. The engine slowly quietened, leaving only the sound of his heart pounding in his chest.
Mok let out a soft, grounding breath between his lips.
And he waited.
And waited.
Until the door slowly slid open.
Rome stepped out and the world seemed to pause around him.
Mok’s breath caught instantly.
His Rome.
My God, he was handsome.
Rome was wearing a crisp, caramel colored suit jacket, paired with a white turtleneck and loose brown trousers. He looked like a picture of modern elegance, looked like everything he was, wealth and privilege personified.
He was taller than Mok remembered him being, though not taller than Mok. His hair was longer too, a stark contrast from the shaggy, boyish haircut Mok had fallen for back then, the one he’d memorized and still had frequent dreams about.
His hair was now combed back in spiky waves that made him look confident and somewhat imposing.
But it was his eyes that destroyed Mok’s composure.
They were brown and deep, and as they fell on Mok, they were filled with unmistakable longing.
A small, genuine smile curved Rome’s lips as he looked at him.
And Mok suddenly forgot what it was like to breath normally.
Rome was so handsome, it made Mok feel a physical ache in his chest.
He wanted to reach out, wanted to touch him, his hair to see if he was real, to make sure this wasn't a dream.
But he reminded himself where he was. And he kept his hands together, firmly in place.
“Welcome, Khun Kritdanai…” Mok said, his voice levelled, despite the well of emotions flooding in him.
Rome’s smile softened, and so did his eyes. He didn't look at the mansion, didn’t look anywhere else.
He only looked at Mok.
“I missed you so much…” Rome said, smile never shifting.
The words were simple.
They weren't complex or poetic.
But they meant everything. They held ten years of longing, ten years of missing each other so bad it hurt.
And in that moment, the tension in Mok’s chest dissolved… and he could finally breathe again.
But he still didn't let his guard down.
Not here.
Not with the guards watching.
Mok gestured toward the large, open oak doors of the mansion. “This way, please.”
Rome gave him an appraising look, his eyes obviously scanning Mok from head to toe.
He didn't seem disappointed by Mok’s growth.
If anything, he looked pleased, impressed even.
Mok tried to not to show the relief that flooded him. He couldn't tell if it worked.
Rome walked past him, into the mansion, hands in pockets. The guards immediately followed suit, taking his luggages inside.
Inside, Rome stopped and looked around the large, familiar but somewhat distant halls. The air inside was cool as always, but colder now with the atmosphere of the dreadful wedding approaching.
“Where is my brother?” Rome turned to Mok then, hands still buried in his pockets.
Mok straightened his glasses, a nervous habit he couldn't quite shake. Rome stared, smiling softly. But he didnt comment on it.
“Khun Thee is in his room. He has asked not to be disturbed.” Mok informed.
Rome didn’t seem surprised, but a shadow of concern passed over his face.
He gave Mok a small, almost sad smile, then a nod before starting up the stairs.
That startled Mok.
He followed quickly behind, his mind racing.
At the top, Mok reached out, his hand moving faster than his brain. He grabbed Rome’s arm to halt him, just a few paces away from the door.
“Khun Krit—”
Rome stopped then.
But he didn't pull away.
He looked down at where Mok was gripping his arm. Even through the fabric of his jacket, the touch was electric.
Mok immediately pulled back, feeling that surge too.
Rome gave him another knowing smile and turned towards the door.
There were three guards stationed at Thee’s door, standing like statues.
They had been given strict orders from the master.
KEEP THEE IN, KEEP EVERYONE ELSE OUT.
Well everyone except Mok.
Rome looked at them, his expression shifting instantly.
The soft look he had for Mok quickly vanished, replaced by a cold, commanding authority. “Leave…” Rome said to the guards, voice as hard as steel.
The guards hesitated.
One of them stepped forward, looking nervous. “Sir, the Master asked us not to leave this post. He was very clear.”
Rome didn't raise his voice.
He didn't have to.
He just gave them a pointed, icy look. The kind of look that reminded them exactly who he was. The kind that could cut through a man without pressure.
Mok felt the shift in the atmosphere. Mok stepped in then to dissolve the tension. “It’s okay…” Mok told the guards. “I’m here. I’ll take responsibility.”
The guards looked at each other, then at Mok.
They knew Mok was the Master’s right-hand man for this wedding, knew he could shoulder their blame.
They both bowed in respect to Rome and Mok, before walking away, their footsteps echoing down the hall.
Rome looked at Mok then, his soft smile returning. He looked impressed by Mok’s gentle but commanding presence, his quiet strength. “Even though you're all grown up now, you still haven't changed much.” He said softly, reaching out to Mok, his fingers attempting to stroke his hair.
Mok stepped back, stopping him mid-motion. “Khun Krit—”
“Call me Rome…” Rome cut him off, stepping closer, invading Mok’s personal space.
Mok’s breathing became tight.
The large hallways suddenly felt smaller, closing in on them. The scent of Rome’s cologne— something woody and expensive— flooded his senses.
“Khun Krit, we shouldn't—” Mok whispered, almost weakly.
Rome couldn’t pretend he didn't understand why Mok was acting this way.
He knew exactly why Mok was straying from him, his touch.
He sighed deeply, before staring at Thee’s heavy oak door… then back at Mok. “So how is Thee? Truly?” He asked, his voice somber, though still firm.
The question cracked something in Mok.
“He’s… distraught…” Mok said thickly, a heavy lump forming in his throat. “He’s been crying all day. He won't eat. He won't speak to anyone… not even to me.”
As Mok spoke, he realized that a stray tear had escaped his eye, rolling down his face, burning a painful path.
And once it started, he couldn't hold the rest back, not anymore.
The stress of the last few days, the heartbreak of watching Thee suffer, and the overwhelming shock of seeing Rome again— so suddenly— it all rushed out.
And the tears fell freely.
Rome didn't hesitate.
He stepped closer, into Mok’s space, crowding him against the wall. He reached out and gently slid Mok’s glasses off his face. Then, Rome used the rough pad of his thumb to wipe the tears from Mok’s cheek.
His touch was so tender, so incredibly kind, that it stole Mok’s breath away.
“You are too good…” Rome murmured, his voice low, smooth like silk. “How kind are you that you even cry for your boss?”
“Thee isn't just my boss…” Mok said, wiping his eyes with his hand, feeling naked, exposed without his glasses. He reached for them, but Rome held it out of his reach.
Mok didn't chase it.
Not with the way Rome was still looking at him with that question in his eyes. “He’s my friend. Of course I hate to see him like this.… It’s wrong, Rome. All of this is wrong.”
Rome moved even closer. He was so close now that Mok could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“Is that the only reason you’re crying?” Rome asked softly, never breaking his eyes off Mok.
Mok stared back at him.
His vision was slightly blurry with the tears at his corners and being without his glasses, but he could feel the intensity in Rome’s dark eyes.
He didn't say anything. He couldn't.
“Or is there… another reason?” Rome pressed.
Mok swallowed hard.
He felt… trapped.
He wanted to say— no scream. He wanted to scream out loud and say. ‘Yes! I’m crying because I’ve missed you for ten years. I’m crying because I’m scared they will do to us what they did to Thee. I’m crying because I can't be with you like I always dreamed.’
But he didn't.
The words stayed back, firmly lodged in his throat.
Rome sighed then, a sound of frustrated, repressed love.
He reached down then, slowly, delicately intertlacing his fingers with Mok’s.
Mok’s first instinct told him to pull away.
He looked around frantically, checking around the hallway, looking for any signs of movement, any prying eyes.
But there was no one.
The guards were gone.
And for a few— but painfully not enough— seconds, they were alone here.
Mok didn't fight it, didn’t try to pull away.
He allowed himself this one mercy. He tightened his fingers around Rome’s hand, holding on like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to life right now.
Maybe because it was.
“I know you're scared, Mok…” Rome said, his voice steady and reassuring. “But we can still be together. I didn't come back here to lose you.”
Fresh tears welled in Mok’s eyes. The hope in Rome’s words was more painful than his despair. “Khun Krit—”
“Call me Rome…” Rome insisted.
“I can’t…” Mok said weakly. His voice sounded broken, even in his own ears. “It’ll just make everything harder.”
“Make what harder?”
“This…” Mok forced the words out, even when they were agonizing to say. “Us. We can’t be together. We’re not— real.”
“Don’t say that, Mok…” Rome said, his expression falling. “It actually hurts me to hear you say that.”
Mok cleared his nose, trying to regain some shred of his composure. “But it’s true, Khun Krit. Look at what’s happening right now. If your father finds out about this— about us— he’ll marry you off just like Thee. He’ll find some other family to tie you to. And I… I’ll be sent away.”
“I’m never going to let that happen.” Rome said, sure, firm.
“You say that…” Mok argued, feeling helpless. “But look at Thee… Even someone like him is still powerless against your father. What chance do we have?”
Rome’s eyes turned dark and fierce.
He gripped Mok’s hand tighter, though not painful. “I’m not him, Mok…” Rome leaned in, letting his forehead rest against Mok’s. “I’ll slit my wrists with my own hands before I’ll marry anyone that isn't you.” Rome vowed.
The fierce promise in Rome’s words, that violence…? It shocked Mok, making all his built up walls crumble.
Rome was pledging his life to him— a vow of blood.
Mok shut his eyes tight and let out a low sob. He leaned forward, falling onto Rome’s shoulder. He buried his face there and cried, staining the fabric of his jacket.
He didn’t know why he cried as hard as he did.
But he did.
Maybe it was because of Rome’s words, his pledge of eternal love… or maybe because it was so painful to imagine a world that didn’t have a Rome in it.
Rome wrapped a strong arm around his waist. He cradled the back of Mok’s head with his other hand, stroking his hair, holding his heaving body close. And he let Mok cry for as long as he needed, offering his shoulder as a sanctuary.
Mok nuzzled his head against Rome’s neck, inhaling his scent, trying to memorize it in case this was the only time they ever got to be this close.
When the last of his tears rushed out, he lifted his head weakly, his nose brushing against Rome’s cheek.
Rome cupped Mok’s face with both hands.
He didn't hesitate. Couldn't.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against Mok’s tear-stained, wobbling ones.
The kiss… it was everything.
Ten years of longing dissolved with that one touch.
It started soft, a slow, deliberate meeting of lips. But then it quickly deepened.
Rome stroked the curve of Mok’s cheekbones as he moved his mouth against Mok’s. He nipped at Mok’s lower lip, savoring the texture and the taste he had dreamed about for a decade.
Mok kissed him back with a passion he didn't know he had. He tangled his hands through Rome’s perfectly combed-back hair, ruining the style, needing to feel the strands between his fingers.
He wrapped his hands around Rome’s shoulder, pulling him closer, holding him tight, almost painfully so, as if he wanted to merge their bodies into one.
For a moment, the world outside that hallway didn't exist.
There was no Master, no Arseni family, no wedding, and no rules.
There was only them, lips moving in perfect sync with each other.
But then— for a brief moment— Mok’s eyes fluttered open.
He saw the white of the walls, the gleaming polish of Thee’s oak doors.
And then he remembered where they were.
He remembered the guards who could walk in at any moment.
He remembered that Thee was just a few feet away, suffering for a love just like this, one that had been ripped away from him.
Fear— cold, sharp— pierced through him.
He broke away abruptly, breathing heavily, his chest heaving.
He placed his hand on Rome’s chest to put some distance between them. Under his palm, he could feel the rapid, thudding beat of Rome’s heart.
It was racing, just as fast as his own.
Rome still chased after his lips, forehead brushing his, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. Eyes that were full of hunger, of yearning, of a love so deep it was almost terrifying.
Mok shook his head weakly.
He pulled back completely, reaching for his glasses in Rome’s hand.
Rome let him take them this time and he slid them back on, hiding behind them from Rome’s piercing gaze. Mok used his hands to smoothen the non-existent creases on his suit, trying to slide his mask back on.
“I have to go, Khun Krit.” Mok said.
It hurt just to say it.
In his heart, it felt like he was saying goodbye.
Not just for the day, but for good.
But it had to be this way.
He couldn't keep doing this with Rome.
The risk was just way too high.
He turned away, starting towards the stairs, his legs feeling as heavy as lead.
But Rome wasn't done yet.
He caught Mok’s arm, pulling him back.
He didn't pull him into a kiss, no.
This time, he pulled him close enough so his mouth was right by Mok’s ear.
“Come to my quarters tonight… please.”
Mok’s breath caught.
It wasn't an order, no.
It was a plea, one so raw it almost hurt to hear it.
Rome went on. “I’ll send the guards away. I’ll leave the doors open.”
“Khun Krit—”
“And i’ll be waiting…” Rome finished his sentence.
“You know I can’t...” Mok insisted, feeling his resolve slowly crumbling.
“And I’ll still be waiting…” Rome repeated, meeting Mok’s eyes, his expression unwavering.
He let go of Mok’s arm then. And without another word, he turned and walked into Thee’s room without knocking, the door clicking shut behind him.
Mok stood in the empty hallway, staring at the closed door for a full minute.
Rome’s words echoed over and over in his head.
I’ll be waiting.
I’ll be waiting.
I’ll be waiting.
Mok took a deep breath and straightened his glasses, steeling his heart.
He knew his mind was already made up.
He wasn't going.
He couldn't lose Rome to a cage, and he couldn't lose his home.
But as he walked down the stairs to return to his duties, his heart remained in that hallway, in Rome’s words, impatiently waiting for the night to fall.