Eun-jae gave him a scandalized look. "Oh wow. Personal attacks before hot cocoa? You're not even trying to play nice today."
Caesar walked closer, picking up a gold ornament and inspecting it like it might explode. "I don't do nice. I do controlled environments with limited emotional variables."
Eun-jae, hands on his hips now, narrowed his eyes. "So let me guess… the tree's bugged. The lights are rigged to flash Morse code. And the angel on top probably doubles as a security drone?"
"No," Caesar said coolly, "that would be tacky."
Eun-jae rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out. "Of course. Gotta keep it classy when you're decorating like the mob."
Caesar walked past him, briefly grazing Eun-jae's shoulder with his as he passed. "I just thought you might enjoy it," he said lowly. "Something familiar. Something normal."
Eun-jae flinched a little at that. He didn't like the sudden weight in Caesar's voice. The quiet ache underneath the arrogance. It threw him off balance.
But he wasn't about to give in that easy.
He turned to face Caesar again, arms crossed tight. "Don't think a tree and overpriced tinsel is gonna make me forgive you for literally kidnapping me, Caesar."
Caesar looked over his shoulder with that same damn smirk. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm giving you a memory."
"A what?"
"A memory," Caesar said again, now facing him fully. "You'll be stuck here anyway. Might as well give you something pretty to look at. Even prisoners deserve a little sparkle."
Eun-jae narrowed his eyes. "You're insufferable."
"And you're festive," Caesar replied with a wink.
Eun-jae stared at him for a second too long.
"…You're still ridiculous," he muttered, turning to the boxes of decorations. "Fine. But if this tree ends up looking like it belongs in a dictator's bunker, I'm setting it on fire."
Caesar only chuckled, walking past him to grab the lights. "Then I hope you brought marshmallows, sweetheart."
They stood side by side in the grand living room, its stone walls now bathed in the warm glow of flickering firelight and colorful Christmas chaos. The giant tree towered before them, half-dressed in glittering garlands and delicate gold and crimson ornaments that sparkled like stars. Eun-jae, crouched over a tangled mess of fairy lights, held the instruction manual like it was an ancient scroll from a forbidden temple.
"So these go in this socket, and then we loop them through—ugh, why is this thing more complicated than defusing a bomb?" he muttered, furiously flipping the paper back and forth.
Behind him, Caesar leaned casually against the back of the couch, watching him with a tilted head and an amused gleam in his eyes. "Because, unlike a bomb, this actually brings joy."
Eun-jae side-eyed him. "I'll believe that when you smile without it looking like you're planning an assassination."
Caesar chuckled lowly. "That's not true. I only plan those when I'm alone."
Eun-jae snorted, returning to the tangled lights with a huff. After another ten minutes of snapping, looping, and muttered cussing, the tree was finally covered in enough lights to signal an alien mothership. Only one thing remained: the star.
Eun-jae grabbed it delicately, then looked up at the towering tree. "Okay but… how the hell am I supposed to—?"
Without a word, Caesar stepped forward and gripped him around the waist.
"Wait—WH—" Eun-jae gasped as Caesar effortlessly lifted him like he weighed nothing, strong arms holding him steady as he was hoisted upward, completely off the floor.
"Don't drop me, psycho—!" he hissed, arms flailing instinctively, but Caesar only held him tighter, more secure.
"Stop squirming, sweetheart," Caesar said, voice low near his ear. "You'll ruin the moment."
Flushed but gritting his teeth, Eun-jae balanced himself and carefully placed the star at the top of the tree. It clicked into place, shining proudly.
"There," he breathed out, triumphant. "Let me down before I kick you in the throat."
Caesar lowered him slowly—almost too slowly—hands lingering a little longer than necessary around his waist before finally letting go.
Eun-jae rushed to the nearby socket and crouched down. "Okay... three... two... one…"
He flipped the switch.
FWOOM.
The entire tree lit up in an explosion of color. Golden lights swirled around the branches like gentle fire, soft reds and greens flickering in rhythm, and the star at the top glowed with a soft, ethereal white that bathed the room in a kind of magical stillness.
Eun-jae's mouth opened slightly. "Whoa... it's beautiful."
He stood, still staring at it, and for a moment—just a flicker—he looked soft. Vulnerable. Almost like a version of himself from a time before the chaos. Before Caesar.
But Caesar wasn't looking at the tree.
He was looking at him.
In the silence, Caesar slowly stepped closer. The lights danced across his sharp cheekbones and the midnight blue of his shirt. His gaze was fixed on Eun-jae like he was trying to memorize every detail—the curve of his lips, the light in his eyes, the way his hair glowed under the golden light.
Eun-jae finally turned to look at him.
And it was like time cracked a little, just for them.
Caesar raised his hand, slow and deliberate, like he was reaching out to touch something fragile. Eun-jae tensed, flinched instinctively—but Caesar's fingers only brushed lightly along Eun-jae's cheek. Just a graze, warm and aching with something that couldn't quite be named.
"Don't," Eun-jae whispered.
But Caesar leaned in anyway, inching closer, his breath soft against Eun-jae's skin.
Just before his lips could touch, Eun-jae turned his face sharply, rejecting the kiss.
And then—
SLAP.
Eun-jae swatted Caesar's hand away from his face with a dramatic flair, eyes wide and sparkling with fury. "You don't get to act all soft and sentimental after locking me in your winter wonderland prison, Caesar."
Caesar didn't react much—just blinked, slowly. Then smiled.
"A little slap's nothing compared to what I've survived, darling," he said smoothly. "But I'll admit... the sting makes it more thrilling."
Eun-jae groaned, throwing his hands up. "You're impossible."
"And you're adorable when you're mad."
"I'm going to make hot chocolate," Eun-jae snapped, pivoting on his heel and storming toward the kitchen. "And if you follow me, I swear I'll poison yours with glitter."
Caesar watched him go, head slightly tilted, lips curving into a smug, knowing smirk.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured under his breath, "you already do."
The kitchen was warm, humming with the scent of melting chocolate and cinnamon. A soft jazz version of "Silent Night" floated in from the living room, and Eun-jae, wrapped in one of Caesar's oversized sweaters that hung off one shoulder, was completely in his own little world. He stirred the pot on the stove with focused concentration, brows furrowed as he reached for the cocoa powder again.
"Ugh. Needs more kick," he muttered, tapping in another spoonful with a flick of his wrist. "Marshmallows, where the hell are you hiding...?"
He reached up to the top cabinet, standing on his toes, completely unaware of the looming figure that had just entered behind him like a shadow draped in expensive silk.
And then—
Strong arms wrapped around his waist.
"What the—!?"
Before Eun-jae could fully twist around, Caesar spun him—smooth and fast—until Eun-jae's back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. And just like that, without a single word, Caesar crashed his lips against his.
The kiss was ravenous. Possessive. A storm of heat and hunger.
Eun-jae's breath caught in his throat, arms frozen mid-air as Caesar's mouth pressed firmly, then moved—so precise, so maddening. He could feel Caesar's hand grip his waist, pulling him flush against his body, their chests aligned in a sinful rhythm. Eun-jae's fingers curled into Caesar's coat, both wanting to push him off and pull him closer—dammit.
"W-Wait... mhhmm—Caesar—" he gasped between the kiss, trying to breathe, to think, to fight the way his knees turned to jelly.
But Caesar didn't stop. Instead, he effortlessly lifted Eun-jae by the waist, sitting him up on the cold marble counter like he weighed nothing. Now Caesar stood between his thighs, deepening the kiss with a growl that rumbled in his throat. He tasted like dark chocolate and madness.
Eun-jae felt like he was drowning. His senses were betraying him. The sweet smell of the cocoa. The low crackling sound of the fireplace. Caesar's hand trailing under the hem of his sweater.
No.
No.
With a sudden surge of fury and resistance, Eun-jae bit Caesar's bottom lip—hard.
"Mmngh—!" Caesar pulled back instantly, blinking, caught off guard. Blood welled just at the edge of his lower lip, stark and red against his pale skin. He touched his mouth, stared at the smear of blood on his fingertips—
Then looked back at Eun-jae.
And smiled.
A slow, dangerous, thrilled smile.
"You bit me," he murmured, voice almost in awe, like he'd just been handed a bouquet of knives. "You really bit me."
Before Caesar could say another word, Eun-jae's palm cracked across his face in a clean, sharp slap.
SMACK.
The sound echoed in the kitchen.
Caesar's head turned with the blow, his cheek instantly reddening, but he didn't retaliate. He stood still, blinking slowly like a lion that had been swatted by a butterfly.
Eun-jae, meanwhile, was furious. Chest rising and falling, eyes burning with a cocktail of rage and embarrassment.
"And I'll do it again, you delusional asshole," Eun-jae spat, hopping off the counter with the grace of someone ready to commit murder. He grabbed his mug of steaming hot chocolate—overflowing with tiny marshmallows, of course—like it was a shield. "Keep pulling that stunt and I swear to God, I'll put arsenic in the cinnamon."
Caesar licked his lip, tasting the blood with a soft hum. His smile didn't fade. If anything, it grew.
"You're beautiful when you're violent," he murmured. "So alive."
"And you're pathetic when you're horny," Eun-jae snapped back, marching out of the kitchen like royalty in slippers. "Get therapy, Caesar."
"Will you be my therapist?" he called after him with a devilish smirk.
Eun-jae didn't turn around. Just raised his middle finger in the air and kept walking.
"She bites," he whispered to himself, tongue brushing over the wound. "God, I think I'm in love."
From the living room, Eun-jae plopped down on the couch with a huff, curling his legs underneath him. He blew gently on the hot chocolate, then muttered under his breath, "Creep."
But the redness on his cheeks said otherwise.
Eun-jae sat curled up on the velvet couch, clutching the oversized mug of hot chocolate like it was the last piece of comfort left in the world. The lights from the glowing Christmas tree cast a soft halo across his face, flickering in his eyes as he took another sip. Marshmallows floated lazily at the top, half-melted, like tiny clouds.
For once, everything was still.
His thoughts, however, weren't.
He shifted slightly, eyes not leaving the flickering lights. Then, like tossing a stone into still water, he spoke. "When's your brother's coronation?"
Caesar was leaning back in the armchair, legs elegantly crossed, a crystal glass of wine in his hand. He didn't look up. "Next two weeks."
Eun-jae blinked. "Oh. It's been pushed forward?"
"Yep," Caesar replied coolly, swirling the wine. Then his eyes flicked up, sharp and calculating. "Why are you asking?"
"Because I want to come with you," Eun-jae said, turning to face him fully, brows raised. "I've never seen a royal coronation before. Sounds fancy. And honestly?" He groaned, dramatically throwing his head back into the cushion. "Staying in here with your dramatic ass is making me lose my damn mind. I need fresh air, Caesar. People. Noise. A normal human experience."
He smiled sweetly at Caesar, but behind that smile, his mind was spinning. If Caesar agreed—if he took him to the coronation—it would be the perfect chance to run. There'd be guards, distractions, a crowd. He could disappear. Finally escape.
Caesar stared at him.
Long.
Hard.
Silent.
His wine glass was halfway to his lips but never made it there.
Then finally, a single shrug. "I'll think about it."
He stood, graceful as ever, clearly ready to walk away and end the conversation.
But Eun-jae shot up from the couch like lightning.
"Caesar—wait!!"
Caesar paused mid-step, turning his head slowly, eyebrow raised in mild annoyance... or curiosity. It was always hard to tell with him.
Eun-jae took a shaky breath and stepped forward, clutching the now half-empty mug like a security blanket.
"Caesar… can I just—can I please make a phone call to my mom?" he asked, voice quieter now, a vulnerable note threading into it. "Just one. It's Christmas. I just… I want to hear her voice. I want to say Merry Christmas, that's it. Just once."
His eyes glistened—not with tears, not yet—but there was a glimmer there. A painful softness.
Caesar didn't move. His blue eyes were unreadable, cold. Studying.
Then—
"No."
The word was like a bullet. Sharp. Brutal. Final.
Eun-jae blinked, stunned for a second. Then anger flared in his chest, bubbling past his sadness.
"Why? It's just a f*cking call! Didn't you ever feel the love of a mother, Caesar? Or are you just... motherless?" he snapped, the words flying out before he could stop them.
Caesar's gaze narrowed. Slowly, he turned fully, walking toward him with the calmness of someone who could kill you and make you thank him for it.
"I did feel the love of a mother," Caesar said, voice low, almost too calm. His lips curled into a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "And I remember it vividly. Which is why I know what it feels like to lose it too."
Eun-jae's mouth went dry. He hadn't expected that. But he didn't back down.
"Then you should understand," he said, voice firmer now. "Let me talk to her. Just one time. Please."
Caesar stared at him.
Silent again.
Then Eun-jae made the mistake of saying it.
"If you let me make the call… I'll do anything."
Caesar's head tilted slightly. He stepped closer, now only inches away, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
"Anything?" he repeated, his voice a velvet trap.
Eun-jae hesitated. His hands clenched around the mug. But he nodded. "Anything."
Caesar reached out, fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from Eun-jae's face. His touch was slow. Deliberate. Dangerous.
"You'd offer yourself like that… just for a call?" he whispered. "How desperate you must be."
"I'm not desperate," Eun-jae snapped, slapping his hand away again. "I'm human. Something you clearly forgot how to be."
Caesar smirked, unaffected, stepping back like he'd enjoyed every second of the exchange. "No," he said again, voice softer this time. "But I like how far you're willing to go."
He turned his back, walking toward the dark hallway.
"And maybe," he called over his shoulder, "if you're still this obedient by the coronation… I'll let you borrow a phone."
Then he disappeared, leaving Eun-jae standing there, shaking, hot chocolate clutched in his hand, and heart pounding in his chest—not just from anger.
But from how afraid he was that a part of him… had almost meant it.
The moment Caesar vanished down the hallway, Eun-jae felt it—this burning knot in his chest, a mess of frustration and desperation. His hand tightened around the empty mug before he set it down with a little too much force. The sound echoed.
"God, you're so damn exhausting," he muttered to himself—but his feet were already moving, trailing after Caesar like he was possessed.
He turned the corner just in time to see Caesar walking into the bedroom, undoing the buttons of his shirt slowly, like he was performing for an invisible audience. Eun-jae stood at the doorway, watching. Caesar peeled the shirt off, revealing that annoyingly perfect back—broad shoulders, smooth muscle, long scars that told a hundred stories, none of them soft. He tossed the shirt on the bed, hands already going for the belt of his slacks.
Eun-jae snapped out of it.
"Wait," he said, stepping in.
Caesar didn't turn. "You're not sleeping here," he said lazily, unbothered. "Unless that's what your 'anything' was about?"
Eun-jae ignored the jab, stepping further into the room. "I'm not here for that."
"Mm," Caesar hummed, unfastening his watch. "Of course not."
Eun-jae watched him place it neatly on the nightstand like everything he owned had its sacred place. Caesar was half-naked now, pants hanging low on his hips. It should've made Eun-jae flustered. Maybe it did a little. But he didn't show it.
Instead, he leaned against the doorframe with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. "You know… you're so scared of being soft, it's pathetic."
That got Caesar's attention. He paused, his back still to Eun-jae.
"You act like kindness is some kind of disease," Eun-jae continued, tone sharper now, slicing through the charged air. "Like if you let yourself give just one thing, it'll ruin you."
Caesar turned then, slowly. His eyes landed on Eun-jae like a silent threat, his expression unreadable. But he didn't speak.
Eun-jae took that as his cue and stepped forward, dangerously close now. Close enough to smell the faint cologne lingering on Caesar's skin. Close enough to make it hurt.
"It wouldn't kill you to let me hear my mom's voice," he said, voice gentler now, laced with something raw. "But maybe that's the point. You don't want to feel anything that real, right?"
"You're trying to manipulate me," Caesar said, amused, taking a step closer himself. "It's adorable."