Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The man sat on the shore, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of water before him. The orange sun dipped toward the horizon, letting the navy-blue night seep into the sky as tourists from the beach drifted toward the nearby seaside bars. Their outdoor tables glowed under strings of twinkling lights. Boats and jet skis traced their way back toward the shore.

Sitting there in the quiet, far from the chaos of work, he let his eyes follow the shimmering water. His mind wandered to that summer a year ago. The rising full moon was just as breathtaking as it had been the night they met for the first time.

His hand moved to the delicate gold chain at his neck. His fingertips brushed the small pendant, a single letter.

S.

S for Shin.

S for Saint.

Chapter Text

Phuket
One year earlier

Saint

The bass thumped like a pulse beneath the dim, amber light. Every beat vibrating through glass and the bodies of people who came to indulge, to spend money like it meant nothing. Somewhere between the heat of lips meeting in velvet-lined VIP rooms and the low murmur of expensive liquor being poured, there was Club Nocturne – discreet, elite, and known only to those who mattered.

No walk-ins. If you weren’t someone, you could only dream of entering this place.

In one of the lounges, three men sprawled across black leather seating, sipping one of the rarest whiskies that the bar had in stock, a bottle worth more than most people’s rent. Through the open archway, they had an unbroken view of the dance floor – a mess of glittering bodies, drunk on vodka and something stronger, grinding against each other under the pulse of club lights. 

Heat, sweat and mouth were crashing together without care for names or consequences.

Saint sat in the middle, legs spread with casual confidence, a glass balanced between his fingers. On either side of him lounged Nate and Knot, identical twins with identical smirks.

“So,” Knot said, swirling his drink. “New hotel, huh? Grand opening in two weeks?”

Saint nodded once. His new venture. The Sapphire Haven Resort. Far from Bangkok, perched right on the water. Already fully booked for the next few months. 

“It's going to be the crown jewel of the chain,” he said.

Nate leaned forward, eyes glinting. “That calls for a bet.”

Saint sighed but didn’t argue. The three of them had been making bets since high school. Stupid ones at first. Who could steal a package of cigarettes, who could kiss the teacher’s daughter. Later, bigger dares. Riskier. The reward was never money; it was pride, bragging rights, and the adrenaline rush of not knowing if they’d pull it off. Their egos thrived on it.

And Saint? He’d never lost.

Especially not when it came to getting someone into bed. Women were too easy. He didn’t even need a dare anymore. They fell on their knees the moment he walked into a room. He had what they wanted. Money, looks, and the skill to back up the reputation. 

He took a slow sip, watching as the twins exchanged one of their trademark wicked glances.

“We want you to fuck someone,” Nate said casually, as if asking for a refill.

Saint scoffed. “How original.”

“No, no,” Knot grinned, teeth flashing. “Not a woman this time.”

Saint’s glass froze halfway to his mouth.

“A man,” Knot added, voice thick with mockery.

Nate burst out laughing, already tipsy enough to say what sober minds might leave unsaid. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. Might even want to be the one getting fucked.”

Saint shot him a sideways look. “Fuck off.”

Knot raised an eyebrow. “What, you scared?”

Saint shrugged but said nothing. It wasn’t fear prickling under his skin. It was discomfort, annoyance… and, unexpectedly, intrigue. He’d always considered himself straight. Sure, guys had hit on him before, but he’d brushed them off. Dicks didn’t interest him. 

But the idea of breaking a new kind of game stirred something dark and dangerous in him. A thrill he hadn’t felt in a long time. The challenge was intoxicating, and for the first time in a while, he felt something he couldn’t just charm or buy his way out of.

“I thought you two were getting soft,” he said, draining the rest of his glass. “You really want me to fuck a guy?”

“Not just fuck him,” Nate said, leaning in. “Make him fall for you.”

“Yeah,” Knot laughed, slurring slightly. “What’s the fun if you just find some guy who’s already drooling over these abs and that face, and fuck him quickly? No. This time you work for it.”

Saint’s jaw tightened. He hated to admit it, but they’d raised the bar.

Nate leaned in, cocky as ever. “So… do you accept the bet, or are you going to chicken out?”

Saint could’ve said no. Should’ve maybe. But losing in front of these two bastards? Never.

“Fine,” he said smoothly, placing his glass on the table. “I accept. But make sure he’s pretty. If I have to put my dick in his ass, at least I want a good view.”

The twins burst out laughing, raising their glasses in a toast.

“To the prettiest boy we can find,” Knot cheered.

“With a nice, tight ass,” Nate added with a wink.

Saint ignored them, his gaze drifting lazily across the room until it landed on a woman moving through the crowd on the dance floor. Long hair. Even longer legs. Dark lipstick. Trouble etched into every curve and line. She was looking at him like he was a sweet, forbidden bite she wanted to savour tonight.

Saint smirked. He rose to his feet. “You two pick the boy,” he said over his shoulder. “But tonight, I’m going to fuck her instead.”

And he walked away, leaving the twins laughing in his wake.

***

Two weeks later

Shin

Shin stepped off the train and set his suitcase down beside him, pulling out his phone to check the hotel address on GPS. He made his way to the nearest bus stop, rode to the stop that, according to the map, was closest to his destination, and then walked the remaining twenty minutes.

At last, he arrived.
Before him stood a freshly built resort complex, but it wasn’t the kind of soulless concrete giant built for mass tourism and quick profit. 

From what Shin had read online, the owner had chosen a more intimate concept than his other hotels scattered across the country. Still, looking at it now, Shin knew one thing: this was not a place for just anyone.

The resort was made up of a dozen or so buildings, both small and large. Modern design blended seamlessly with traditional architecture, integrating perfectly with the natural beauty of the surroundings. Open interiors led out to greenery, terraces offered sweeping sea views, and the whole place radiated the atmosphere of a luxury hideaway.

Shin stepped into the main building, where the reception was located. Here too, modern elements worked in harmony with tradition. Huge wooden pillars held up a bright, spacious lobby. He approached one of the women working at a computer.

“Good morning. My name is Shin Naruebet. I was told to report to HR about a job.”

The woman gave him a polite smile and made a quick phone call. After a moment, she hung up and turned to her colleague. “Airy, I’ll take him to HR.”

She stepped out from behind the counter, approached Shin, and extended her hand. “I’m Eve, the front desk manager. Nice to meet you.”

Shin returned the smile. “Likewise.”

“What position were you hired for?” She asked.

“A cook.”

Shin had taken the job for a few months to gain more experience before opening his own small business. However, he needed money, and here, the pay was good. The interview he’d had back in Bangkok had been like a small Hunger Games. The head chef ruthlessly sent away anyone who didn’t meet his standards. Shin was genuinely surprised when he received the call saying he had been hired.

Eve led him down paths lined with palm trees, along wooden walkways decorated with flowers. The main resort buildings stood dramatically on a cliff. Azure ocean, lush greenery, private pools hanging over the edge. It looked like a private piece of paradise.

“That building is an administration office. Next to it is staff housing.” She pointed to two-story buildings in the same style as the rest. “Most of us live in the town, but you’re not from here, right?” She glanced at his suitcase.

Shin nodded.

“You’ll be in one of the staff rooms. Each has its own bathroom, but the kitchen is shared. The owner also has an office in the administration building. Have you met him yet?” She asked.

“No.”

Eve raised her eyebrows. “That’s unusual. Normally, every candidate has an interview with him. He makes all the hiring decisions himself. Never lets anyone else do it.”

She paused, then added with a smirk and mocking voice, “But since you’re in the kitchen, the final decision must come from the head chef. The owner wouldn’t dare get involved. This man probably can’t tell a frying pan from a flowerpot.”

Shin listened carefully. Looking at the resort, he wasn’t surprised the owner was obsessed with details. Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before the place filled with wealthy snobs who could swim in a bathtub full of cash and treated ordinary people like ants to be stepped on. He’d seen it too many times in his previous jobs.

At last, they reached the administration building.

“Alright, I’ll head back. Nice meeting you,” Eve said. “Tonight there’s a welcome party before the grand opening, by the main pool. I hope you’ll come. It’s a good chance to meet everyone.”

“Thanks,” Shin replied. He wasn’t a fan of parties, but he knew that if he was going to survive here for the next few months, he needed to build connections.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two handsome men stepping out of the building, laughing at some joke. Even though their clothes and hairstyles were completely different, it was obvious they were twins.

When they saw him, they fell silent. Shin frowned, noticing how one of them nudged the other with his elbow, both still staring at him. Eventually, they turned and headed off in their direction.

Shin tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase and stepped inside the building. Just for a while, he thought. Then I’m going to open my own restaurant.

Chapter Text

Saint

Saint stood by one of the tables, a wine glass in hand. On his face, a polite smile, though in truth, this party didn’t interest him much. He knew, however, that if he wanted the business to run well, he had to treat his employees right, and not just financially. An occasional staff get-together never hurt anyone.

And right now, it was more than welcome. For the hotel to run smoothly, every department had to work together. It was one organism, split into several organs. And it was better if those organs knew each other well.

He glanced up at the sky. The sun had already set, yielding to the full moon. The night was clear, each star shimmering like a distant jewel. The constellations traced delicate patterns, and the gentle glow of the moonlight bathed the resort in a soft, silver light.

Nate and Knot strolled over. The twins would be heading back to Bangkok in a few days to handle their own business, but tonight, they still had time to mess with him… in their favourite, crude style.

“Bro!” Nate started with a wide grin. “Ready to conquer the pretty boy?”

Saint exhaled sharply. They hadn’t spoken about that ridiculous scheme for the past two weeks. He’d been buried from morning till night in paperwork and systems, making sure everything ran as it should.

“What, you’ve already picked someone out for me?” He asked dryly, laced with disdain.

Knot snorted. “Oh, you bet we have! Pretty little thing, soft as hell… and that ass…” He smirked. “Man, it’s gonna haunt your dreams.”

“Yeah,” Nate chimed in. “And those lips? Dude, I can already see you wanting them to give you a blowjob.”

Knot snickered, nudging Nate. “The moment Saint sees them, he’s gonna be imagining them working their magic… giving him exactly what he wants before breakfast.”

Saint rolled his eyes. “Maybe instead of talking shit, you could just show me who the hell you’re talking about.”

Knot clapped him on the shoulder. “On your third, near the palm.”

Saint narrowed his eyes in that direction. Four people stood there: two receptionists and the bartender. The women were immediately out of the question. He already knew the bartender. He had personally recruited him from his other hotel in Pattaya, which left… him. 

Tall, dressed in a cream cardigan and a black T-shirt that perfectly matched his dark hair. A slight, almost shy smile played on his lips. Even from a distance, Saint could see he was handsome. 

No, he was beautiful. 

Despite being tall, possibly around the same height as Saint, his face was delicate, with pronounced cheekbones and a straight, little nose. Saint couldn’t help but wonder: if he looked that good from a distance, how striking must he be up close?

“Well?” Knot asked, leaning toward him with a smirk.

“Not bad, huh? We picked you a real treat,” Nate added with a gleam in his eye. “You’ll have to tell us if he’s just as sweet in bed.”

“Or if he turns from a sweet cupcake into something… spicier,” Knot said.

At that moment, Peeta joined them with a greeting. Still watching the stranger, Saint frowned. He knew every face in this hotel. He'd personally approved them all. Even the maintenance guys.

“Who’s that?” He asked, nodding toward the man.

Peeta followed his gaze. “Shin Naruebet. Ken hired him. He's a cook. He came today.”

That made sense. He never interfered in the kitchen. Even though he and Ken didn’t get along privately, they respected each other professionally. If Ken had chosen him, the guy was good at his job. Ken didn’t work with amateurs.

“Well, I’m not worried then,” Peeta teased. “Would’ve been worse if you were asking about a woman. I’ve got enough paperwork as it is. I don’t need a sexual harassment complaint from some broken-hearted waitress or housekeeping girl on top of it.”

And as she turned to leave, she tossed over her shoulder: “Keep your dick in your pants on the hotel property.”

Saint just raised a brow. Peeta had been a close friend for years. She was the one who’d be running the hotel when he went back to Bangkok. She could get away with jokes like that. She was also someone with whom he’d only ever shared a platonic bond. Peeta had zero interest in men. Even if he’d ever tried to hit on her, she would’ve ripped his dick off before letting him get close.

Once she was safely out of earshot, Knot returned to the subject. “So, you’re gonna have your own little chef. Maybe he’ll make you a nice breakfast… in bed.”

“Or a dinner, but, you know, the adult kind,” Nate snickered.

“If you fuck him on the kitchen counter,” Knot added with mock seriousness, “make sure you clean it after. I’m not eating soup with your cum.”

“Damn! Knot!” Nate made a face, pretending to retch. “Don’t give him ideas! I’d like to be able to eat in this restaurant without having nightmares later.”

Knot’s loud laugh drew a few curious glances from nearby employees.

“All right, Mr. Owner,” Knot said, still grinning. “Let’s go to see how your new employee handles… working for the boss.”

***

Shin

Shin stood off to the side with a drink in hand, one Tew, the hotel’s head bartender, had made for him. The pool stretched out before him, its surface catching shards of silver from the full moon above. The sky was clear, scattered with stars, their faint glow mirrored in the still water. For a moment, the bustle of voices and music behind him faded, drowned out by the quiet vastness of the night. 

He’d already met a few people, but it seemed Eve had taken him under her wing. He didn’t mind. Being an introvert, his “social battery” drained quickly. Now, he was standing next to her, Airy, and Tew.

“So, you’ve been training them for a few days now?” He asked Tew, raising his glass to his lips.

“Yeah,” Tew replied. “The boss pays well, but he’s tough as hell. He needs to be sure no one screws anything up.”

Tew normally worked at a hotel owned by the same man, but in Pattaya. But now, he had been here for a few weeks to train the soon-to-be permanent team. He and Shin had already bonded over the fact that they were both staying in the staff quarters.

“At my job interview, I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” Airy sighed. “No one’s ever stressed me out that much. I don’t know what some of the girls see in him.”

“The front desk works with every department,” Eve added, giving her colleague a pointed look. “It’s hard not to notice how most of the waitresses, masseuses, and housekeeping staff practically drool over him.”

Shin raised an eyebrow. “What’s he like?”

“As a boss? Fair as long as you do your job right,” Tew said. “But if not… well, you don’t want to be in that person’s shoes. That’s why people call him Tsunami.”

Shin nodded. No wonder they paid so well here, he thought. He suspected that in a place like this, anyone slacking off would be out the door in no time. It was a win-win: you received a generous paycheck, but you were expected to deliver one hundred percent. Ninety-nine wasn’t enough.

The girls lowered their voices almost to a whisper.

“And privately… everyone knows he’s a womaniser,” Airy said, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “He probably slept with everything that moves.”

Tew chuckled. “From what I’ve seen and heard in Pattaya, it’s only the stunning women.”

Suddenly, a voice came through the poolside speakers.

“Dear staff…” It was Saint. He said a few words into the microphone about the resort’s opening, wished everyone a good evening, and encouraged them to enjoy themselves before the big launch in two days. A short, standard speech from the boss.

Then he paused for a moment, and his gaze locked directly on Shin. Intense. So much so that Shin felt… unsettled.

When Shin was about to excuse himself and head back to his new room, exhausted from the journey, the owner himself appeared in front of them, flanked by the twins like some kind of personal guards.

The same twins Shin had passed earlier that afternoon.

Shin’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t liked the way they’d looked at him. Those too-wide, tipsy grins felt more like they were sizing him up than greeting him. Something about them made his skin itch.

“Hey, pretty boy!” Called the one on the right.

“Our friend here’s been dying to meet you,” the other one snickered, taking another long swig from his glass.

Shin’s gaze lingered on the man before him. Tall, broad shoulders, a faint dimple breaking through his smile. No wonder women seemed to fall at his feet. That kind of smile did most of the work for him.

Saint shook his head. “Forgive my friends,” he said, his voice pitched low. “They’ve had a little too much.” Then, with a polite nod: “Saint Thamnithit Nitroj.”

“Shin Naruebet Nittiwat,” Shin replied, his tone even.

One of the twins leaned in, grinning sloppily. “You’re… delicious-looking,” he slurred.

Shin’s shoulders tensed.

Saint let out an audible sigh. “Alright, that’s enough. Time to go to bed and sober up.”

“Come on, Saint,” one of the twins drawled, grinning. “We just want to know if he’s as sweet as the dessert on the menu… or maybe a little spicier.”

Shin’s eyes narrowed. “Could be more poisonous than sweet,” he replied coolly.

He could see that Saint raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting anyone to talk back to his friends. Shin wondered briefly if he should already say goodbye to this job before it even started.

The first twin laughed, eyes glinting. “Oh, he’s got some fire. I like that.”

“With a face like that… makes you want to taste everything he hides, don’t you think, Saint?” The second added.

The other one leaned a little closer, smirking. “Honestly… that look? Could make anyone do things they shouldn’t.”

His brother chuckled, voice low and teasing. “Hell, someone might even want him despite batting for the other team.”

The three employees behind Shin watched this scene in horror. Everyone had heard of the legendary twins. No one wanted to cross them if they didn’t want to lose their job.

But Shin didn’t flinch. He gripped his glass a little tighter. “If you’re done, I believe there’s an entire terrace full of people who might appreciate your attention more,” he replied, his voice calm but firm.

Then he looked at Saint and offered a courteous nod. “I’m tired, so I’d better get some rest,” he said, glancing at the twins. “I suppose you’re done too.”

He turned back to his colleagues with a calm smile, ready to leave, but felt that Saint grabbed his arm.

“I’m sorry about my friends,” Saint said, voice measured but sincere. “I’ll deal with them. I’m ashamed they treated you that way. They shouldn’t have. As the employer, I cannot allow any of my staff to be treated like this.”

Shin looked at him from beneath narrowed eyes. Saint seemed sincere, but… people who moved in such circles were always the same.

His gaze slid to his shoulder, still held in Saint’s grip. He raised an eyebrow. As if picking up on the signal, the man withdrew his hand and offered a polite smile.

“How about a drink with me?” He asked, his voice smooth.

Shin didn’t reply, so Saint leaned closer, lowering his voice and adding, “I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Why?” Shin shot back.

Saint didn’t hesitate for even a second; the answer seemed ready on his tongue. “I know every employee here… except the cooks.”

Shin glanced across the terrace, where staff were chatting and dancing. In the crowd, he spotted two cooks and pointed in their direction.

“They’re over there. You can get to know them.” Then, coolly, he added, “Goodnight.”

He turned away, but Saint’s voice cut through the night air. “Wait! We’re not finished!”

When Shin faced him again, Saint had stepped in closer, a little too close, Shin thought. His presence loomed, his cologne sharp in the humid air.

He bent near Shin’s air, his breath brushing against his skin as he murmured. “Don’t tell me you’d refuse me a drink.”

Shin stiffened. Saint was standing in his space, intentionally, as if testing him, but he didn't understand why.

“Is that an order from my boss?” Shin asked, keeping his tone calm, though his jaw tightened.

Saint hesitated. “No.”

“In that case…” Shin inclined his head. “Since it’s not an order, I’ll refuse. Goodnight.”

Saint clearly faltered. “And what if it were?”

“Then I’d still refuse.”

Saint’s surprise was palpable. From his expression, Shin could tell he wasn’t used to being refused. “And why’s that?”

Shin met his eyes without flinching. “Because these aren’t my working hours. And my free time doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned and walked toward his new quarters. He could feel Saint’s gaze burning into his back, but he was too tired to care.

Chapter Text

Shin

Shin changed into his uniform for his shift with Ken and another new hire. The first guests had already arrived, and soon the kitchen was buzzing: waiters rushed in and out with trays, bartenders shaking colourful cocktails for guests, and dishes piling high to be washed.

Amid the chaos, Shin thrived. He had always loved experimenting with flavours, blending ingredients, and turning raw produce into something new. The clatter of pots, the hiss of pans, the rhythm of knives, it all felt strangely calming, a language he knew by heart.

He finished a dish with a splash of wine, flames briefly flaring on the pan before he plated it with practised ease, creating a little culinary masterpiece. He and Ken worked like that until closing, then stayed behind to clean. Many dreaded that part, but Shin found satisfaction in leaving behind a spotless kitchen, everything gleaming and in its place.

At last, they unbuttoned their uniforms and dropped onto stools. Ken handed him a cold lemonade.

“Here. The bartenders made it,” Ken said.

“Thanks,” Shin replied, taking a long sip. The pleasant cold and slightly tart taste immediately refreshed him.

“You did well. I knew who to choose,” Ken said with a faint smile.

After a moment, Ken stood up. “I’m heading back to my apartment,” he announced.

Nani looked surprised. “Don’t you live in the staff quarters?”

Ken let out a laugh. “If I don’t have to, I’d rather not see my workplace in my free time. But since Saint footed the bill and put it on the company tab, I went ahead and picked an apartment with a sea view. If that jerk’s paying, might as well make it worth it.”

He patted Shin on the shoulder. “Go get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll finish my lemonade and then I’m off,” Shin replied.

The kitchen closed earlier than the bar. The bar ran much longer, as guests often liked to relax with a drink after dinner, or confide in the bartender. Unofficially, they were always a kind of therapist for some guests.

Just as Shin was about to leave, one of the bartenders rushed into the kitchen:

“Shin! We need one more dish!”

“The kitchen is closed,” Shin replied quickly.

“But–”

“No buts. Give in to one guest and ten more will follow. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck explaining why it was open yesterday but not tonight,” he said firmly, already heading for the staff changing room. He knew from experience how demanding people could be. Give them a finger, and they’ll want the whole hand. Luxury hotel or not, work hours were work hours.

“But it’s for the boss!” The panicked bartender shouted.

Shin stopped. “For the owner?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t he eat during the restaurant’s opening hours?” Shin asked.

The bartender didn’t answer.

Shin sighed. “Let him go hungry until breakfast, or he can make it himself. He has two working hands.”

“Shin!” Groaned the bartender. “How am I supposed to say that to him…”

Shin looked at the young man. He was clearly scared of the reaction if he were to deliver such a message.

“What does he want?” Shin asked. sighing.

The bartender exhaled in relief. “Your favourite dish.”

Shin raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Nothing from the menu?”

The bartender nodded vigorously. “Yes. He said: Shin’s favourite dish. Two portions.”

Shin rolled his eyes. Great, he brought someone over, and instead of going to sleep, I have to cook for him. He glanced at the fridge and the cold storage, already taking out the ingredients.

“Tell him it’ll be ready in half an hour,” he said.

Shin set about preparing his favourite Thai dish, wondering if someone like Saint would even enjoy it. He chuckled to himself. Curious if he had ever tried it. He probably grew up eating the most sophisticated meals in Michelin-starred restaurants. When he finished, the waiters were gone already, so he asked a bartender to take the dishes to the table.

Barely had he exhaled when the bartender burst in again. “Shin!”

“What now? Did the boss freak out that it’s not–” Shin began, but the panicked young man cut him off.

“No! He’s asking for you.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say. He just told me to bring you.”

Shin clenched his jaw. He’ll pay me for these overtime hours, he thought.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

When he stood in front of Saint, he was surprised that no one was sitting beside him. One steaming bowl of appetising food sat in front of Saint, and another across, by an empty chair.

“Sit,” Saint ordered.

Shin hesitated, then sat upright.

“Eat,” he added.

Shin didn’t move. Saint sighed.

“This is your portion. Thank you for all your hard work today. All the guests left the restaurant satisfied and praised the chefs.”

Shin replied calmly, “Ah, so my reward is the dish I had to cook myself ?”

Saint chuckled, then picked up his cutlery and took the first bite.

“No wonder Ken chose you. With talent like that, he’ll probably make you head chef one day.”

Shin said nothing. He didn’t touch his bowl either.

“Eat,” Saint urged. “There was chaos in the kitchen today, am I right? You probably didn’t even get a break. You’d go to bed without dinner.”

Shin neither denied nor confirmed it.

Saint simply nodded, scooping another bite onto his spoon. “So I was right. I can’t have you losing your strength… I might want to put it to good use later,” he added, eyes lingering on Shin a beat too long.

Shin stayed silent, but he began to eat.

“What do you think of this place?” Saint asked, watching him.

“It’s nice,” Shin replied shortly.

Saint let out a laugh and shook his head.

“Not much of a talker, are you? You remind me of a kitten. Soft, but I know you’ve got claws. Can I call you that? Kitty?”

Shin set his cutlery down with a deliberate clatter, making his answer perfectly clear without a word.

“Alright, alright,” Saint lifted his hands in mock surrender, though his smile lingered. “You know, people always tell me running a resort must be a dream. Gorgeous views, luxury, tasty cocktails.”

“And why are you telling me this?” Shin asked.

“Because it’s still a lot of work,” Saint replied. “You’d think once the hotel opened, things would run smoothly, but that’s never the case. Behind the scenes, it’s chaos. Systems fail, people make mistakes, and every day I’m putting out fires the guests will never even notice.”

Shin raised a brow, studying him coolly.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“I want you to be my assistant,” Saint said firmly. As he reached for his glass, his fingers brushed Shin’s hand.

Shin flinched slightly, unsure if it was an accident or on purpose.

“If this is a joke, it’s a good one. But if it isn’t… I’ll have to refuse,” Shin said, shaking his head.

“Shin… I’m deadly serious. I think you’d be perfect for the role.” Saint’s smile lingered as he leaned his chin into his palm, watching him as though examining his every move. “Someone like you, steady under pressure, impossible to read… You intrigue me.”

Shin narrowed his eyes, determined to keep his distance. “Sorry, but I’d rather hold a knife than a pen.” His tone was calm, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “Maybe you should look for someone who actually dreams of that job.”

“This is only the second time we’ve spoken,” Saint said, a trace of impatience seeping in. “And both times, you’ve turned me down.”

Shin remained unmoved. “And if I have to, I’ll turn you down a third time.”

Saint sighed theatrically, as though he were the one wronged.

“Kitty, offers from me aren’t something you refuse so easily.”

“And yet that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

***

Saint

Saint returned to his office and dropped heavily into the chair. He rubbed a hand over his face, but it didn’t help. He could still see those coffee-coloured eyes. 

Even at the welcome party, they had struck him as fascinating, but under the soft lighting during their dinner conversation, he had truly seen their depth. Those eyes that held his gaze firmly while his lips once again spoke words of refusal.

For a while, he stared at the ceiling until a low laugh slipped past his lips. What the hell was he supposed to do with this man? Shin wasn’t like the others. No spark of admiration in his eyes, no hidden yes in his replies. He was stubborn, resistant, almost… irritatingly honest. To Saint, it was both amusing and infuriating.

He wasn’t used to rejection. Not when his desk was piled with dozens of CVs, especially from women who practically dreamt of this position. And yet here was someone who didn’t even try to hide his indifference.

His mind replayed their conversation.

“Why?” He had asked bluntly.

“And what would I even do in an office? Chop carrots at a computer?” Shin’s tone carried sarcasm.

“I insist,” Saint replied, his voice leaving little room for dismissal.

Shin narrowed his eyes, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Then give me a reason. Why me, exactly?”

Saint’s lips curved into a half-smile. “Because you don’t flinch. Everyone else bends the moment I press. But you… you resist. It makes me want to push harder just to see how far you’ll go.”

Shin let out a quiet laugh. “Except I was hired as a cook. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but there are neither stoves nor pots in your office. Whatever you’re after, you won’t find it in me.”

“I don’t need your pots,” Saint leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “What I need is someone who can keep up with my pace. Someone who won’t back away when I get too close. And you’re exactly what I was looking for.”

His fingers brushed against Shin’s hand again, feather-light, just enough to make the other man tense.

“And my answer is still no.” Shin cut the matter short. “I’ve lost my appetite, so I’ll head back to my room.”

Saint had risen from his desk and walked over to the window, the silver glow of the moon painting his features.

One thing was certain: he couldn’t back down. A bet was a bet. He couldn’t lose to those two brats. He had sworn that within a month, he would make Shin fall in love with him. The sooner this ridiculous wager was over, the better. Which meant he had to act. Fast.

Yet deep down, he couldn’t deny the thrill. The spark of excitement at the thought that when he finally claimed Shin, it would be worth every second, and victory all the sweeter.

He looked up at the moon. If Shin insisted on clinging to the kitchen, then Saint would simply have to drag him out of there by force. The simplest solution? Make him his assistant. That way, Shin would be by his side twenty-four hours a day. The closeness, the small gestures, the right moves… and eventually, Shin’s heart would turn in the only direction that mattered.

Because what better way to make someone fall for you than to take away their privacy and slowly surround them? He thought with cold amusement. What is love, if not the art of stealing someone’s breath until they breathe for no one but you?

Yes, he already had a plan.

And soon, very soon, he would win the bet.

Chapter Text

Saint

Saint stood as Ken entered the office, nodding toward the chair across from him.

“Ken, good to see you,” he began politely, though there was an unmistakable firmness beneath his tone. “Let’s get straight to the point.”

The head chef sat, waiting.

“I want Shin to work for me,” Saint stated bluntly, hands clasped on the desk.

Ken raised an eyebrow. “He already does.”

“No, Ken,” Saint leaned forward slightly. “I mean directly for me. He won’t be working with the kitchen staff anymore.”

Ken stared at him for a moment, as if he needed a second to process, before finally exploding. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” He barked. “You want to take my best man? He’s a chef, Saint, not your errand boy!”

Saint’s face twisted at the outburst, but his gaze remained steady. He understood Ken’s frustration. Shin was indeed a valuable asset to his team. Saint had witnessed it himself yesterday. Ken had chosen him so accurately; the man was truly talented.

But Saint also knew that once the bet was won, Shin wouldn’t stay in the kitchen anyway. He doubted that Shin wanted to work here for long. It was better to start moving the pieces now. Ken needed to begin training someone new, sooner rather than later.

But to keep him calm, he only said, “Shin will be back in the kitchen in a month…” Saint said casually, “If he wants to.”

Ken frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Saint replied smoothly with a half-smile. His tone was almost sympathetic, though his eyes remained hard, when he added, “I know you see a future in him. Shin is capable. That’s exactly why I want him for myself. I need someone fresh. Someone unafraid of challenges.”

Ken snorted, then leaned forward, fixing Saint with a fiery glare. “Already tired of your toys? Can’t you hire them instead of stealing a man I see the most potential in?”

A cold, sharp smile curved Saint’s lips, like the edge of a knife. “Ken,” he said, icy and precise. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m informing you of a decision.”

Silence fell. Ken studied him as if considering whether to punch him. Saint knew how fiercely the chef guarded his team and beloved restaurant.

Saint exhaled softly, softening his tone slightly. “I’ll allocate an extra budget for your Bangkok restaurant. That should compensate for the loss.”

“Your hotel will lose out, not me,” Ken hissed, narrowing his eyes. “And Shin? Does he even know?”

“I spoke with him yesterday,” Saint replied.

Ken remained quiet for a moment, watching him, before a mocking grin spread across his face. “He refused you.”

Saint clenched his jaw, his voice cold and authoritative, the tone of a boss who wouldn’t take no for an answer: “After his shift today, tell him that starting tomorrow, he works for me.”

The silence that followed was heavy and tense, but Saint knew he had just taken another step toward winning the bet.

***

Shin

It was close to midnight, but Shin didn’t care. Anger bubbled inside him like molten lava as his steps carried him, quick and determined, almost to the edge of the resort. The elegant little building looked like one of the guest villas, but he knew it was Saint’s private quarters.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand and knocked. No. He pounded on the door, as if sheer force could bleed the fury out of him.

When the door opened, he found himself face-to-face with Saint – shirtless, his damp hair falling loosely, sweatpants slung low on his hips. Droplets of water ran down his neck and chest, glistening in the dim hallway light. Saint arched a brow, but before he could say a word, Shin shoved past him into the room. He knew he was crossing a line as an employee, but right now he couldn’t care less.

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?!” Shin burst out, spinning sharply toward him. “I told you already! I don’t want to be your assistant. I’m not qualified for this!”

Saint regarded him with calm amusement, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips. He raised his brows as if Shin’s outrage were nothing more than an evening’s entertainment.

Shin’s jaw tightened with frustration, his finger jabbing against Saint’s breastbone, but he didn’t get the chance to say more. In a sudden motion, Saint caught his waist and pinned him firmly against the wall, leaning in so close that Shin felt the heat of his skin and the clean scent of shower gel. A droplet fell from his damp hair onto Shin's shoulder.

Saint exhaled slowly, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. “How do you know you won’t be a good assistant, hm? If you never try, you’ll never know.”

Shin swallowed hard, lifting his gaze into the man’s piercing eyes. “Why are you so fixated on me?” He whispered, almost breathless. “As the owner, wouldn’t you prefer someone… qualified?”

For a brief moment, something sharp flickered in Saint’s eyes. “Because the qualified ones are predictable. You’re not,” he said evenly. “And I need someone who won’t just take notes at meetings. I need someone with a spine, not just a diploma.”

Shin blinked, thrown off balance. Before he could reply, he felt a light, teasing touch at his throat. Saint traced a finger down over his Adam’s apple, sliding lower until it brushed the small mole beneath it.

“Tell me, kitty,” Saint drawled, his tone playful, “what did I do to make you dislike me so much? Why do you keep refusing me? Give me a reason.”

Shin swallowed again, mouth parting. “…I don’t like that nickname,” he muttered at last.

The corners of Saint’s lips curved into a slow smile. His gaze dropped deliberately to Shin’s mouth. “That’s not the only reason, is it?” He asked softly.

Shin meant to respond, but realised suddenly that… he had nothing else to say. Saint hadn’t actually wronged him. Yes, his teasing and that nickname were infuriating, but that was it. That night, it wasn’t Saint who had humiliated him. It was Saint’s so-called friends. And Saint had even apologised on their behalf.

So why this anger? Why this desperate need to push back? Maybe it was the first impression, the prejudice he’d drilled into his own head, that “they’re all the same.”

“You want to take the kitchen away from me,” he finally whispered, as if clinging to that one truth.

Saint studied him closely, far too long for Shin’s comfort. Only then did he become fully aware of where he stood: pinned against the wall, in the middle of the night, by his half-naked boss. His heartbeat quickened.

Instinctively, Shin raised a hand and pressed his palm against Saint’s chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin. He pushed, more desperation than force, just enough to reclaim a sliver of space.

Saint didn’t resist. He only sighed softly, his voice gentler now. “Just one month. Then I’m back in Bangkok. You can return to the kitchen after that…” he paused “…if that’s what you’ll want.”

Shin searched his face. He saw no hidden malice there.

“The first month after opening is always rough,” Saint continued, his tone steady. “Plenty of things still don’t run the way they should. The resort may already be open, but not everything is fully prepared or in place. That’s why I want someone I can trust at my side.”

Shin hesitated. Saint’s logic was sound, yet something still pricked at him.

“I know your heart is in the kitchen,” Saint added, leaning in just slightly, as if closing the distance once more. “But think of it from another angle. You’ll gain experience in a department you know nothing about. It might serve you well someday.”

Shin’s throat tightened, breath catching. “It’s the middle of the night,” he said quietly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He slipped past him, avoiding his gaze, his shoulders, every overwhelming detail of him. Without another word, Shin walked out, leaving the owner with a faint smile lingering on his lips.

By morning, Shin went to the one person who truly mattered – the director. He knocked on her office door, and when a curt signal came, he entered with a polite greeting.

Peeta looked up from her paperwork and nodded. “Good. I was hoping to see you,” she said. “And let me be clear right away: don’t bother going to HR. Your new contract is in the president’s office, on his desk.”

Shin clenched his jaw. “That’s exactly why I’m here.” Straightening, he tried to keep his tone calm. “I have no experience in this department. How can a cook work in the office, directly under the president? I thought maybe I could explain, maybe it’s better if someone qualified takes the role.”

Peeta studied him, as if she’d been waiting for this. Then she gestured for him to sit.

“It’s only one month,” she said.

Shin narrowed his eyes. He was nearly certain the two of them had already discussed this.

“I’ve also spoken with Ken,” she added evenly. “He agreed to stay here until then. I know he has plans for you. He’d like you to take the head chef position when you return.”

Shin didn’t reply. His mind was already drifting far beyond this place. Yes, the head chef position was an honour, especially in such a prestigious hotel, and he was surprised that Ken thought so highly of him. Everyone seemed to have plans for him, but he had his own plans. He wasn’t staying at this hotel for more than a few months. He wanted to learn from the best, then leave, and open something of his own. But that, he wasn’t going to say out loud.

“So?” Peeta broke the silence. “Will you take the role of the president’s assistant?”

“Why me?” Shin asked carefully. “There are plenty of people who would dream of this job.”

“Tell me, have you heard anything about Saint?” She asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Only what you can find online,” Shin answered warily. “Owner of several hotels.”

“And privately?” She pressed.

Shin hesitated, recalling bits of gossip from the staff party. “They say he’s… a player,” he finally admitted.

Peeta let out a long sigh. “I’ll be honest with you.” She fixed him with a level stare. “I don’t understand why he chose you, but for me, it’s convenient. I know him too well. He likes to play around, and he can’t keep his hands to himself. That’s why no female assistant from administration is an option. I won’t risk a scandal.” Her voice hardened. “Saint is a manwhore.”

Shin listened silently, questions swirling in his mind. So that was it? He was just supposed to be the barrier between the boss and some poor secretary, making sure Saint didn’t pick her to screw?

“Just try it for one month,” Peeta continued, her voice softer now. “You’ll get a solid bonus and a much better salary.”

Shin bit back a curse. “I don’t even know what my duties would be.”

“Don’t worry about that.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Saint does most of the work himself. He likes to keep control. You’ll just be there for basic desk work, nothing complicated.”

She rose from behind her desk, smoothing down her skirt. “He’s probably in his office now. Go to him, sign the new contract… and you can start.”

Shin stood as well, meeting her eyes one last time. He saw nothing but firmness there, and maybe a touch of relief, as if she was already glad the matter was settled.

At last, he gave a short nod and left. The door closed softly behind him, and he exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to focus.

Just one month, he repeated to himself. After that, he’d be back in the kitchen for a while. This job was only seasonal. In fact, maybe he could even treat it as a test: a glimpse into what management involved, since one day he’d have to face it anyway, though on a much smaller scale.

One month. He could handle that.

Chapter Text

Shin

Shin lay on the bed, staring at the new contract: president’s assistant. Earlier, in Saint’s office, he had felt as if he were signing a pact with the devil. There were no fixed working hours – over the next month, he was to be at the president’s disposal at any time. True, the salary had increased, although it had already been generous. He sighed, set the document aside, and closed his eyes.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. He could get a glimpse from the inside of how a place like this was run, knowledge that might come in handy if he truly planned to open his own business.

But the problem wasn’t really the work. The problem was Saint.

He didn’t know where this aversion came from. The teasing remarks? The lingering stares? Or maybe that touch on his neck, light, yet still vivid in his memory? He opened his eyes abruptly, as if to chase away the images his mind kept feeding him.

Perhaps Saint really wasn’t as bad as he thought. After all, running several hotels surely required more than arrogance.

Maybe, he should give him a chance. Try to start over, as if they were beginning with a clean slate. If they were to work side by side for an entire month, Shin wanted to believe that, on professional grounds, Saint would turn out to be someone else entirely.

Just then, the screen of his phone lit up with Saint’s name. He answered.

“I’m waiting for you in the car by the main gate,” came that familiar, lazy voice. “Your first task as my assistant. Don’t keep me waiting, kitty.”

Shin clenched his jaw. That one word was enough to shatter his attempt at neutrality.

“On my way,” he replied coldly, slipping the phone into his pocket.

When he reached the car, Peeta and Tew were already standing beside it. Tew waved at him with a bright smile, and Shin returned the gesture. Then his gaze met Saint’s. The intensity of it made something stir uncomfortably in Shin’s stomach. He looked irritated.

“You’re driving,” Saint ordered curtly.

Peeta leaned toward Shin with a smile. “We’re going for a liquor tasting. In the coming weeks, we’re planning to expand the offer with local spirits. Saint decided that if we’re going to serve it to our guests, we need to try it ourselves first. You’ll be our driver.”

Shin only nodded, starting the engine.

When they finally arrived and stepped out, Tew immediately threw an arm across Shin’s shoulders.

“Man, I’ve got to thank you!” He said cheerfully. “Those meals you whip up in the shared staff kitchen… you’re saving my life.”

Shin smirked. “Don’t exaggerate. It’s just quick, simple dishes.”

“Simple?” Tew almost shouted. “That sauce alone could put half the restaurants in this city out of business. I never thought I’d be raving about pasta like it was fine dining.” He patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll repay you with a proper drink. That’s the least I can do for food that good.”

Shin chuckled, brushing off the comment, and followed the others inside.

The tasting lasted longer than he had expected. Peeta, Tew, and Saint circled the table lined with glasses, sipping and debating. Shin had been handed a notebook to record their impressions.

He quickly noticed, though, that Saint was unusually cold toward him. His tone was sharper than usual.

“Write it down properly,” he snapped without even looking at him. “You’re not here to miss the fine points.”

During a break, Shin found himself laughing quietly at one of Tew’s stories about the strangest hotel guests, but he could feel Saint’s heavy gaze on him. Moments later, that sharp voice cut through the chatter:

“Focus. This is work, not social hour.”

Before Shin could respond, Saint was at his side, placing a hand on his back. It was a guiding gesture, steering him toward the table, and yet the fingers lingered a moment too long, sliding lightly along his shoulder blade, as if to mark where his attention belonged.

Shin frowned. He couldn’t make sense of it. First, Saint had insisted on choosing him above anyone else, and now he was cold and distant. Maybe that was just how hotel owners of this calibre behaved, temperamental moods and all, he thought.

And yet, in that look and in that touch, Shin felt there was something more, but he didn't know how to name it.

In the evening, Shin drove them back. First, he stopped at Peeta’s house, helping her out of the car. Then, at the hotel, when Shin parked and the three of them got out, Tew asked in a slightly slurred voice: “Coming with me?”

Before Shin could reply, Saint grabbed his wrist, holding it firmly. “Shin still has tasks to do,” he muttered, his voice carrying a strange chill.

Tew only shrugged and turned toward the staff quarters. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“What tasks?” Shin asked, looking at Saint as Tew disappeared.

Instead of answering, he felt the taller man’s head drop onto his shoulder. Shin stiffened.

“I don’t like it when you smile like that at others,” Saint mumbled. “My kitty should save that smile for me.”

Shin let out a heavy sigh. “So much for professionalism,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t know what Saint was talking about; it was probably drunken rambling. Louder, he added, “I’ll walk you back.”

At the door to Saint’s quarters, Shin had to search his pockets to find the key card. When the lock clicked, he opened the door, prepared to practically push Saint onto the bed.

But Saint clearly had other plans.

The door slammed shut with a bang, and suddenly Shin found himself pinned against the cool surface, Saint’s entire body pressing into his.

Shin froze. Their faces were only inches apart. Their bodies – none.

Saint’s breath was hot, laced with alcohol, burning Shin’s nostrils. The taller man leaned down and dragged his nose along the line of Shin’s neck, slow, almost lazy.

One hand slid under Shin’s shirt, brushing over the heated skin near his belt. The touch was delicate, yet firm enough to make Shin’s breath hitch sharply. He tried to break free, but Saint’s fingers gripped his side tighter, holding him still.

Something inside Shin cracked, dangerously so. He didn’t know anymore whether he wanted to push Saint away… or let him continue.

Saint exhaled, warm breath tickling Shin’s skin. His lips hovered over the two tiny moles on Shin’s neck – teasing, threatening. He almost kissed them when he whispered hoarsely: “Your indifference turns me on.” His voice was low, rough, lips grazing Shin's skin. “Because I know I’ll break it, kitty. I’ll make you mine.”

Shin’s stomach clenched at those words. There was something absurdly possessive about them, something he knew he should reject outright. And yet… his heart beat faster.

Up close, Saint looked different. His hair, messy and falling into his forehead, his half-lidded eyes giving him a false innocence. A stark contrast to his words, his heated breath, the firm grip on Shin’s hip, and his mouth moving slowly along the curve of his neck.

Instead of shoving him away, Shin caught himself responding; his body aching as though it wanted more. Every part of their bodies pressed together, igniting his skin and senses.

“You’re my boss, Saint,” Shin growled, part of him furious at himself for his own reaction. “There should be boundaries… some fucking professionalism.”

But Saint didn’t even flinch at his outburst. He only smiled lazily, too sure of himself, as though he knew boundaries no longer meant anything. “You look so fucking tempting when you’re pinned to me with nowhere to run.”

Shin licked his lips nervously, then forced his voice steady, almost cold. “You’re drunk, Saint. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Saint’s eyes locked on him, intense, lingering on Shin’s mouth. His voice came out rough, low: “I’m not drunk enough not to know what I want… or what I’m doing.”

He leaned in harder, pressing his hips into Shin’s so there was no denying it. Shin could feel his erection, hard and hot through the layers of fabric. 

“Feel that?” Saint whispered, his breath hot against Shin’s ear. “This is what you do to me.”

Shin shivered, his back tingling with goosebumps. He took a deep breath, fighting for control, about to say something, when Saint cut him off suddenly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” He asked, not moving an inch away.

“No,” Shin whispered.

“A boyfriend, then?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Saint asked with infuriating nonchalance, as if they were discussing the weather.

Shin rolled his eyes, exhaling heavily, trying to act indifferent, though his heart was pounding. “Maybe I just haven’t met anyone I’d want to be with.”

Saint leaned even closer, his voice a husky, dangerous murmur vibrating at Shin’s ear: “Good. Because I’ll make sure you can’t resist me.”

The words hung thick between them. Finally, Shin tore himself free. Saint staggered but kept his balance.

“Go to bed. Goodnight.” Shin’s voice was steady only by sheer force of will.

Saint chuckled low, too drunk to keep teasing. He slinked toward the bed, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “Sleep tight, kitty… though I’d much rather have you writhing in my arms.”

He collapsed onto the mattress and was out almost instantly, leaving Shin with a racing heart and burning thoughts.

On his way back to his own quarters, Shin still felt his pulse unsteady. He couldn’t shake the image of those dark eyes, that infuriating smile. Or the heat of those hands still ghosting across his skin.

But worst of all was the truth: his own body had responded with desire.

And that unsettled him more than anything. Because even though he wanted to push Saint away, the man’s touch was far too intoxicating to forget.

***

Saint

Saint woke up with a hangover. His head throbbed, his tongue dry as paper. He groaned, reached for the glass of water and the pill on the nightstand. He frowned; he didn’t remember leaving it there. That’s when it hit him.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he swallowed the pill and fell back against the pillow. 

Shin.

So, his little kitten knew how to hide his claws. Interesting. He wondered when Shin would finally let himself be stroked.

His thoughts drifted back to the day before. And with them came irritation that instantly flooded his entire body. He didn’t even know who pissed him off more: himself, Shin, or maybe Tew. Because why the fuck had Shin smiled at him like that?

Yesterday, he nearly exploded with anger. It took all his self-control not to snap and tell Tew he wasn’t going anywhere. How dare he buddy up with Shin like that?

He hated admitting it, but the truth was brutally simple – Shin’s smile was just beautiful. And it drove him mad to the edge of insanity that it wasn’t directed at him. In that moment, one dangerous thought pierced him, one he wished he’d never had: he didn’t want Shin to smile like that at anyone else. Only at him.

He dragged himself out of bed, into the shower, and turned on the cold water. The icy stream washed over his body, but it didn’t put out the fire burning inside him.

How the fuck was he jealous over a guy flashing a smile at someone else? Shin, delicate looks or not, eyes you could drown in or not, was still just a guy.

Saint had never once questioned his orientation. So what the fuck was wrong with him recently? He only knew one thing. He couldn’t tell anyone about it. Especially not the twins. Their teasing would never end.

And yet.

The cold shower did nothing. His head was still full of Shin. It wasn’t like him. He had no control. And that lack of control set him on edge all day.

Later in the office, when Peeta came with a problem in the documents, he didn’t even let her finish before snapping, “Do I need to find someone else for your position? You’re a general manager. Soon you’ll be running this place on your own. You should be able to handle things like this.”

“Saint, I only–”

“Situations like this will happen again. You better learn to handle them yourself.”

Saint noticed Shin’s jaw clenching as he watched the scene. He didn’t like it. He could feel it. If only Shin knew part of the reason it was like this was because of him – this damn kitten. Shin, always in his head, refusing to leave him the fuck alone, was what had Saint so damn pissed off.

That’s why he sent him to the reception desk. Pretending it was to help the girls, but really just to get him out of sight.

“Help them with the invoices for the guests,” Saint said flatly. “After that, you’ve got the rest of the day off.”

But the problem was, Saint knew damn well it solved nothing. He needed to get the fuck out and go wild.

By nightfall, he was in a club. The bass pounded through the speakers, lights flashing, the air heavy with sweat and alcohol. Saint leaned against the bar. Second night in a row, he was pounding drinks, but he didn’t give a damn. He and the twins were used to it; getting wasted, railing harder shit, staying fucked up for days. Always some girl tangled up in their beds, bodies pressed against theirs.

Now, the whiskey burned his throat, but it didn’t burn away the image. Shin. Always Shin. That sharp jaw, that hard stare. The first person who had ever dared to say “no” to him and still look him straight in the eyes. It drove him insane.

Why the hell was Shin the thorn in his mind? He’d had so many people. A single gesture, and he got whatever he wanted. Whether it was a random girl in his bed or investors in a boardroom, Saint always got his way.

But this one… Shin always drew a line. Always untouchable. And maybe that’s what was starting to drag him into obsession.

So when a girl in a tight dress grabbed him and pulled him into the bathroom, he let her. Not for her. For the release. He needed something simple – raw physicality. No emotions. No thinking.

He leaned against the cold tiles. When she knelt and unzipped his fly, he closed his eyes. But the images that formed behind his eyelids weren’t of her.

They were of Shin.

Those coffee-colored eyes. That small, straight nose. That damn mole under his Adam’s apple. A sudden thought hit him like a punch: how many more moles were hidden beneath his clothes, waiting for someone to trace them with fingers, tongue, teeth. For him, Saint, to trace them.

A low groan escaped him, but it wasn’t because of her. His imagination was already running wild. He saw Shin kneeling before him, lips wet around his cock, willingly taking him in. He wanted to watch his kitten swallow it all, eyes watering, while he thrust even deeper.

His fists clenched, hips driving up on instinct.

He came hard, pulsing in the woman’s mouth, but in his mind, there was only one image.

A man.

Shin.

He opened his eyes and looked at the woman. But it wasn’t his eyes. Just some stranger’s face that meant nothing.

She looked up at him with hope, like she expected tenderness. He scoffed, zipped up, tossed a wad of bills at her, a payment that was more insult than reward, and walked out without a word. Her angry glare bounced off him like nothing.

Saint left the club even more pissed than when he came in. He bought a few bottles of beer on the way, then stumbled back toward the hotel. 

He collapsed on the bed fully dressed. The bass from the club still echoed in his skull, and behind his eyelids, Shin, again. Always Shin.

He only passed out when exhaustion finally mixed with a rage he hadn’t felt in years.

Chapter Text

Shin

It was still early, the air carrying a trace of night’s chill while the horizon blushed faintly pink. Shin’s workday hadn’t begun yet, but sleep refused to come. He decided on a short walk around the resort, finally taking a moment to breathe in the quiet he hadn’t known since his arrival. The silence at this hour felt like a gift.

His steps slowed when a raised voice shattered that calm. Rounding one of the pavilions near the service gate, he froze at the sight before him: a laundry van, and beside it, the driver clutching a young housekeeper by the arm. She struggled to pull free, her face pale.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, bitch!” The man slurred, fingers digging cruelly into her skin.

Shin didn’t hesitate. He strode toward them, passing the gardener, Chadjen, on the path. “Get security and the owner. Now,” Shin ordered sharply.

The gardener nodded and bolted for the reception.

Closer now, Shin could see the reek of alcohol, the driver swaying on his feet. In the girl’s fist glinted a car key.

“Let her go,” Shin said, his voice cutting like glass.

The man snarled. “Mind your own fucking business!”

Shin took another step forward, calm and immovable. “I said, let her go. Now.”

With a shove, the drunk sent the girl stumbling aside, then lunged at Shin, fists flying. Shin dodged, caught his wrist, and twisted until the man folded with a grunt.

“It’s okay,” Shin said, keeping his tone steady, eyes flicking to the girl. “You’re safe now.” He shifted to shield her with his own body.

“He… he can’t drive like this,” she whispered, clutching the key. “I tried to stop him and then–”

“You were right to,” Shin cut in. “You did well.”

For a heartbeat, it seemed the worst had passed. Then a shout drew Shin’s glance to the side, just long enough for the man to wrench free and hurl himself forward.

Shin had a split second to decide. He could have dodged, but the girl was standing right behind him; he couldn’t let her take the hit. He clenched his teeth and braced himself.

The fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head back until it struck the cold wall of the building. The metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue.

“You fucking bastard!”

The roar split the air. 

Saint.

He stormed in like a force of nature, security trailing behind, but Saint reached the man first. One punch sent him sprawling.

“You dare lay a hand on him?!” Saint bellowed, hitting him again. “You’re fucking finished!”

Security dragged the driver away while Saint’s fury thundered on. “Get him out of my sight! I don’t want him back here, ever!”

No wonder they called him Tsunami, Shin thought dimly. He could be a fair boss, even generous, but if you fucked up, you saw the storm.

And then that storm turned. But the moment Saint’s eyes landed on him, all the fire collapsed into something else entirely.

“Shin!” He rushed forward, grabbing his shoulders as if Shin might collapse. “Are you hurt?”

Shin swallowed, the metallic taste still on his tongue. Dizzy, he straightened anyway, but his hand instinctively rose to his head. Saint noticed instantly.

“Say something. Damn it, Shin, are you okay?”

“It’s nothing…”

“Nothing?” Saint snapped, staring at the split in his lip. “That’s your idea of nothing?”

For the first time, Shin wasn’t looking at the cocky owner of the resort but at a man genuinely worried. The intensity pressed down on him, confusing, disarming – too much. He looked away and focused on the girl.

“You did the right thing,” Shin told her gently. “You were brave to take his key. You’re safe now.”

“But because of me, you–” her voice cracked, her eyes flicking to his bruised face.

“Hey.” Shin raised a hand, stopping her with a faint smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

“Fine, my ass,” Saint cut in, his voice rough with anger, but his hand resting carefully against Shin’s back, guiding him. “We’re going to my office. You’ll tell me everything.” 

He shot the girl with a command that brooked no argument: “You, straight to reception. Have them call Peeta immediately.”

Both of them sat down on the small, elegant sofa in Saint’s office. His expression hardened, voice cutting through the quiet with an air of authority.

“Tell me everything that happened there.”

Shin recounted the scene, catching the shadow that darkened Saint’s face as he listened.

“You should go to a hospital,” Saint said flatly, leaving no room for discussion. As he spoke, he shifted closer on the sofa, the distance between them shrinking.

Shin rolled his eyes, rising from the sofa, hiding his discomfort behind a faint smirk. “Thanks for the concern, but that’s unnecessary.”

Saint’s gaze sharpened, unblinking. It was too close, too heavy, too… protective. Shin’s chest tightened under the weight of it. He tried to deflect with humour, his voice edged with nervous irony.

“Didn’t think you were the type of boss to care this much about your employees’ well-being.”

The corner of Saint’s mouth twitched. Slowly, almost lazily, he stood up and closed the distance between them.

“Oh, Shin…” His voice was velvet and steel at once.

Fingers brushed Shin’s cheek, skimming with deliberate care as they avoided the split on his lip. Saint’s brow furrowed faintly, as though even this small wound mattered more than it should. His touch drifted lower, tracing along the sharp line of Shin’s jaw, down his throat, until it reached the mole at the edge of his collar.

Shin’s breath caught. That feather-light touch sent a pleasant shiver racing down his spine.

Saint leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear, his breath warm. “I don’t care about the others,” he whispered, low and husky. “It’s only you that matters.”

A knock on the door shattered the moment.

***

Saint

Shin jerked away from Saint just as Peeta entered the office, not even bothering with a greeting before grumbling about being called in so early. Saint glanced at her, but she didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. His gaze quickly returned to Shin.

The man’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink, the colour spilling down his neck. Saint raised a brow. Fuck… he looks adorable, the thought flashed through his mind before he smothered it, afraid it might slip out loud.

Saint knew his reputation well, and frankly, he didn’t give a damn. The rumours were true anyway. He had never hidden his string of meaningless affairs, and the office… well, a few quick fucks had happened there, too. But when it came to Shin, it was different.

He didn’t want anyone to know. He didn't want anyone to associate him with Shin in that way. In a month, there would be nothing between them anyway, and he had no intention of being labelled as a man who chased after other men.

Because once the bet was won, there would be no other man after Shin.

“The footage has already been handed to the police,” Peeta announced, cutting through his thoughts. “They’ll handle it.”

“Good,” Saint replied coolly. “But stay on top of the laundry service. Everything must run smoothly. Losing a driver isn’t our problem but theirs.”

She gave a short nod and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

That’s when Saint heard it – the loud breath Shin let out, full of relief. Afraid they’d been caught, no doubt. 

When their eyes met, Shin said firmly, “This can’t go on. We need to keep things professional. Boss and employee.”

Saint crossed his arms over his chest, a devilish smile tugging at his lips as he held Shin’s gaze. “I don’t want to.”

Shin rolled his eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of this?”

Saint only smirked, clearly amused by the shorter man’s seriousness. “I want you, Shin. I think about it every time you walk into the room.”

“Funny, because all I want is a quiet shift.”

Saint barked out a laugh. His kitten was always the cutest when he got annoyed. “I’ll make sure you want me too… and when you finally break, you’ll be begging for it.”

The tension between them thickened, heavy and electric. Saint knew he’d struck a nerve. Shin didn’t answer right away, just looked away, as if hiding a reaction.

A moment later, Saint softened his tone. He stepped closer to Shin, gently running his fingers through the hair at the back of his head. 

“Take the rest of the day off after what happened. If you start feeling any worse, you have to tell me immediately. Understood?”

Shin frowned. “But tomorrow the group arrives. There’s still so much to do–”

Saint cut him off with a touch, his thumb brushing across Shin’s cheek. His voice was low, steady, but laced with something dangerous.

“That’s exactly why you’re resting today. I want you fresh tomorrow. I want you beside me.”

Shin swallowed hard and only nodded. He was already at the door when Saint added, smirking: “Don’t be late tomorrow… and remember, I’ll be thinking about every inch of you while you rest.”

Shin froze mid-step, heat rushing to his face. He spun around just enough to glare at him. “Cocky bastard,” he muttered, before storming out of the office.

Only then did Saint let out a sharp breath and clench his fists, lowering himself into the chair at his desk. The image from just minutes ago came crashing back: Shin stepping in to defend one of the staff, taking the hit instead. The sight of that delicate face bruised sent Saint’s blood boiling. Who the fuck dared to lay a hand on him?

The vision of Shin weakened, with a split lip and pain shadowing his features, knocking him off balance. For the first time in years, Saint felt something close to real worry. And that unsettled him more than anything else. Since when did he care about anyone? It was absurd.

No, it had to be something else. No one had the right to touch what belonged to him. That was all. That was the only reason he reacted the way he did.

Yes, only that.

The clock was ticking. He had to make Shin fall for him, seduce him, and then send proof to the twins to win that ridiculous bet.

Still, a dark thought lingered. A sly smile tugged at his lips.

The truth was, playing with Shin in bed promised to be more than entertaining. He wanted to taste him, really taste him, and his kitten was unbearably sweet whenever he tried to hide his claws.

But a bet was a bet. Shin’s feelings meant nothing.

Not when winning was on the line.

Chapter Text

Shin

Shin couldn’t sit still. Saint was overreacting. Sure, he’d taken a hit, but he wasn’t made of porcelain. And there was too much work waiting: the banquet hall had to be prepared and seating had to match the list. Earlier, he’d helped the office girls with reservations and system updates, but the real storm awaited the kitchen the next day: welcome amenities for each room, followed by a full dinner service.

A sly smile tugged at his lips as he slipped quietly out of his room. Convincing Ken to take an extra pair of hands was easy.

“Saint doesn’t need to know,” Shin said lightly, flashing that calm, disarming smile that softened even the grumpiest mood.

Ken frowned, then snorted. “You’re right. That bastard already meddled too much in my kitchen when he pulled you out of here.”

So Shin dove into the kitchen, where he felt most alive – surrounded by knives, pots and sizzling pans. He portioned meat with precision, chopped fresh veggies, and seasoned soups effortlessly. The air thickened with roasted meat, simmering red wine, and a sharp citrus note he and Ken had added for balance.

But time flew. A glance at the clock reminded him that the evening was closing in. He hurried back to his room, took a quick shower, and opened his wardrobe. Before he could reach for anything, a knock sounded at the door.

He opened it to find a housekeeper standing there, a garment bag draped neatly over her arms.

“It’s from the president,” she said quickly, before he could even ask.

He frowned, but once alone, he unzipped the bag. Inside hung white trousers, a deep red blazer with a matching vest, of course, no shirt in sight.

A moment later, his phone buzzed.

Saint: Wear it just like that. No shirt. I want those moles on full display for me tonight.

Heat rushed straight to Shin’s face. He dressed anyway, the clothes fitting him like a second skin. The open cut of the vest and blazer exposed his pale chest, the dark specks of his moles impossible to ignore.

In the restaurant hall overlooking the terrace and, in the distance, the sea, Shin stood to the side with Airy – ready to answer guests’ questions or engage in polite small talk whenever they needed help. He wore a professional smile, silently ticking through the evening’s checklist, making sure everything was running smoothly.

“I’ll go see if Eve needs a hand,” Airy murmured.

Shin gave a small nod before exchanging a few courteous words with the guests.

Yet his gaze kept drifting, always returning to Saint. He moved effortlessly among the tables and clusters of businessmen, a glass of wine in hand. His laughter, brief but confident, punctuated easy conversation, his gestures sharp and controlled. Saint looked every bit the perfect host – composed, charming, commanding.

But when their gazes met across the room, Shin’s breath faltered. Saint looked infuriatingly good, broad shoulders, dark hair styled to perfection, suit moulded to his frame.

Saint crossed the floor with lazy confidence, eyes dragging down Shin’s body without shame. He smiled like a predator who’d just spotted his meal.

“Knew exactly what to pick for you,” he murmured, voice low enough for Shin alone. “Red suits you.”

Shin shifted under the weight of his stare, acutely aware of how openly Saint’s eyes lingered on his bare skin and the scatter of moles.

Finally, he snapped, a sharp puff of breath escaping him. “Do you have some kind of kink for moles or what? My eyes are up here.”

Saint grinned, hunger simmering in his gaze. “Never had one,” he said smoothly. “Not until I met you.”

Shin flushed slightly, though he tried not to show it.

“Dinner time,” Saint said casually, as if stating the obvious.

“I’ll help the waiters in the back,” Shin replied quickly, ready to slip out of the front line.

Saint grabbed his elbow firmly, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Where do you think you’re going, kitten?” He leaned closer, a sensual undertone threading his voice. “You’re sitting next to me.”

Shin furrowed his brow, surprised. “But… I’m just staff…”

“You’re my assistant,” Saint replied without hesitation, gripping his elbow even tighter. His gaze slid over Shin’s breastbone. “…and in that outfit, I have no intention of hiding you in the back.”

Shin didn’t have the chance to reply. Saint placed a hand on his back and gave him a gentle push forward.

Moments later, with a glass in hand, Saint delivered a short speech. “This resort is my latest creation,” his voice rang out strong and confident. “I hope you spend unforgettable days here. And our staff will do everything to make sure you do.”

After the applause and the toast, dinner was served. When the appetisers were set down, Saint glanced at his plate, then at Shin.

“This… is damn good,” he muttered, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I know what my kitten’s been up to today,” he added softly, low enough for only Shin to hear. “He was supposed to rest, but instead he snuck off to play with knives and pans.”

He sighed theatrically, propping his chin on his hand as if amused. Then he leaned closer, their shoulders nearly brushing. “You know, Shin… I’m dying to find out if your hands are just as skilled in bed as they are in the kitchen,” he whispered huskily, his gaze sliding shamelessly down the exposed trail of moles on Shin’s chest.

Shin nearly choked on his food. He darted his eyes around in panic to check if anyone else had heard, then turned sharply toward Saint. He wanted so badly to snap back, to throw something sharp right in his face, but he clenched his jaw. He couldn’t, not in front of all the guests. 

Instead, he set down his cutlery, dropped his napkin onto the table, and said coldly:

“Thank you for the meal. But I think I’ll go see if the staff needs a hand with anything.”

Saint leaned back comfortably in his chair, that sly smile playing at his lips. “Don’t wander too far, kitty,” he murmured. “I like it better when you stay close… especially dressed like that.”

Shin stood up, but as he walked away, he could feel Saint’s burning gaze on his back. He told himself he shouldn’t let the man get under his skin, and yet… damn it, why did he react so strongly? His heart was pounding, his hand curling into a fist. 

Was it just because Saint was hell-bent on pursuing him? Or was it because… Saint actually might be interested in him? His mind said one thing, but his heart was beating to a completely different rhythm.

At reception, where things were calmer, he sat down with the girls for a quick coffee. They traded jokes and gossip about the guests. Everything was handled: the guests were enjoying themselves in the restaurant, room assignments were finished, dinner had been served – it was all in order. Technically, Shin completed his job.

He needed to breathe, so he stepped outside and strolled around the resort. The night air was cooler, carrying the scent of the sea and the flowers from the hotel garden.

He heard it then.

Two voices, sharp and raised. One he recognised instantly. Saint. The other was equally firm, brimming with tension.

Shin hesitated. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but their tones were too clear, too close.

“You always do things your way. Never listen to anyone, son.” The older man’s voice was hard.

Shin froze. Son. The word echoed in his head. So this was Saint’s father. His mind flicked through the guest list; of course, the same surname had been at the very bottom. Why hadn’t he connected the dots earlier?

Around the corner came Saint’s cold laugh. “And apparently I’m doing better than you ever did, since everything is going exactly the way it should.”

“Remember, no matter what, this is still a family business.” The father’s tone was sharp, almost scolding.

“This resort is my investment,” Saint replied icily. “Mine. Not yours. And I’ll run it my way.”

Shin suddenly felt out of place, like an intruder. He slipped quickly in the opposite direction, but his thoughts wouldn’t settle.

Maybe that was why Saint was so impossible to deal with. Maybe what looked like arrogance and cynicism on the outside was just a shield. Who knew what he was hiding beneath the mask of the confident CEO?

He stepped back into the main hall, where the official part of the evening was over. Guests laughed and danced, colourful cocktails flashing in their hands as the bartenders kept busy. Shin made sure everything was in order, waved to Tew, who was theatrically shaking a cocktail shaker above his head, and turned toward his room.

That’s when a strong tug on his wrist stopped him. He spun around to find Saint grinning; the kind of grin that was always a little dangerous.

“In such a hurry, it can only be to bed,” Saint drawled, leaning in. “But don’t worry, kitty. I’ll save the undressing you for when we’re alone.”

Shin flushed deep red, but before he could protest, Saint was already pulling him aside, toward a place only known to Saint.

“Where are we going?” Shin finally asked.

“You’ll see.” Saint didn’t glance back, but there was a smile in his voice. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

The half-moon hung above them, silver light spilling over rustling trees. The air was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of the sea and flowers from the hotel garden. It felt cut off from the rest of the world – quiet, almost unnaturally so.

Shin’s heart quickened. Before he could stop himself, he gathered his courage and said softly, “By accident… I heard part of your conversation. With your father.”

Saint gave him a fleeting look of surprise, quickly masked by a dismissive smile. “Ah, that?” He waved a hand carelessly. “A trifle. Just a small argument, nothing more.”

“That didn’t sound like… a trifle,” Shin whispered, eyes fixed on the ground.

Silence fell. Saint studied him intently, dark eyes locked on his face. The pause stretched so long that Shin felt the air growing heavier around them.

“Say something…” Shin murmured at last, unable to stand the tension.

A slow, unreadable smile curved Saint’s lips. “You know you’re too damn cute when you try to figure me out?” His voice softened as he raised a hand to brush Shin’s cheek, skimming dangerously close to his lip. His tone dropped into a husky murmur: “Let’s not talk about that. That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Then what was the reason?” Shin’s voice trembled slightly.

Saint tilted his chin gently, directing his gaze outward. “Look around. No one comes here. Not even the cameras reach this spot.”

Shin swallowed hard. He knew exactly what that meant. They were utterly invisible to the world.

Saint’s breath ghosted against his temple. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered, daring him.

Shin’s breath caught as he stared into those dark eyes glinting with moonlight.

And before he could second-guess himself, the words slipped out, surprising even him: “Then… do it.”

***

Saint

Saint didn’t need to be told twice. Shin’s words caught him off guard, but only for a brief moment. Then he pulled him in, their bodies colliding, and crashed his mouth against Shin’s with a desperation and hunger he could no longer restrain.

The kiss was anything but calm, anything but gentle.

It was ravenous, possessive, brimming with a desire Saint could no longer hide. He kissed as though he wanted to bite into those lips, devour them, taste them from every angle, drink them in until he was finally sated. Shin’s flavour hit him like a lightning strike – intoxicating, bittersweet, so much more vivid than the dreams that had tormented him night after night. Saint’s tongue pried his lips apart without asking, plunging deeper, greedy and merciless.

His fingers tangled in Shin’s dark hair while the other hand pressed him hard against his body, leaving no space between them. He felt the tremor of Shin’s muscles under his palms, his own arousal sparking hotter and faster. Having Shin in his arms at last was driving him insane, yet it still wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He needed more.

When Shin finally broke away, both were gasping for breath. But Saint didn’t let him slip far – his arm still locked tight around Shin’s waist.

“Fuck, Shin…” he rasped, his breath ghosting over Shin’s swollen lips. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,”

Shin shoved Saint’s hand away as it reached for the button of his vest.

“Stop.” His voice came out sharper than he intended, but his eyes betrayed the war he was fighting with himself.

Saint smirked, his mouth curling in provocation, as though resistance only fueled him further. He leaned in, lips brushing Shin’s ear.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he whispered. “Because all I want is to show you just how fucking much you’ve set me on fire.”

Shin drew in a ragged breath, as though summoning every ounce of strength not to give in. Then, with sudden resolve, he pulled free. Saint felt the emptiness where his body had been, his hand falling from Shin’s waist.

“Goodnight,” Shin muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

Saint watched him straighten, then walk away with quick, almost fleeing steps, as though escaping not just him, but his own actions. 

Saint’s gaze lingered on him, a shadow of triumph flickering across his face. Not yet, but soon. Very soon. He raised his voice just enough to carry after him:

“Run, kitten, run…” his tone low and mocking. “But know this – your taste will haunt my tongue all night.”

He saw Shin quicken his pace without looking back.

A wide, wickedly satisfied smile spread over Saint’s lips. A shiver of excitement coursed through him. He had seen enough to know Shin was cracking. Slowly, his wild little cat was letting himself be tamed.

Saint dragged his thumb over his own lips, as if he could still feel the kiss lingering there. “Fuck, Shin…” he muttered to himself, voice thick with dark satisfaction. “You’ll be mine soon enough.”

Later that night, Saint sat in his room, staring out at the illuminated resort beyond the window. His thoughts kept returning to what had happened earlier. The kiss. The lips that had haunted his imagination since the very first encounter with Shin were finally his – if only for a fleeting moment. The body he had barely tasted teased him to the brink of madness, making every second without him feel like an eternity. He could hardly wait to discover the rest.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this before. Until now, everything had been about a quick thrill, brief pleasure, a cold farewell. But now everything was different, more intense, slipping beyond his control – excitement, curiosity, and something else that Saint couldn’t even name.

A smile curved his lips as he recalled how Shin had interpreted his conversation with his father. Did he really believe that Saint carried wounds from his father’s harshness, that there was some fragility behind him, that he needed comfort?

Saint shook his head, amused by the thought. He reached for a glass of whiskey. The sharp burn slid down his throat, leaving a fiery taste on his tongue. Yes, he would let him believe that. If this mistaken image softened Shin’s heart and made him easier to claim, Saint had no intention of correcting it.

Leaning back in his chair, he swirled the glass in his hand. The plan, the bet, the strategy. It was all clear. Shin was to be conquered, and quickly. Without scruples. Only the goal mattered. And to achieve it, Saint intended to exploit every weakness of his innocent kitten.

Yet… there was something devilishly pleasurable in it. Shin, charming, innocent, unaware of his own power, worked on Saint like a drug. Every gesture, every glance, every shadow of hesitation filled Saint with desire unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

He smiled wider. Manipulating this innocence was easier than he had imagined, and the thought that soon he would possess Shin entirely – heart, body, and mind - set him ablaze.

Shin was only a bet. Yet Saint could not suppress the shiver of delight that ran through him as he imagined the moment when Shin would finally yield.

Step by step, moment by moment, until he broke his resistance. And then Saint would savour every inch of this victory.

Chapter Text

Shin

Shin couldn’t fall asleep. His mind kept replaying his own words: “Then do it.”

Why had he said that? Why had he provoked Saint into kissing him? He must have lost his mind. What the hell had he gotten himself into? An affair with his boss… it was the stupidest thing he could have possibly done.

He was supposed to hate him. From the beginning, he’d kept his distance, stayed cold. When had that changed? He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the line had been crossed. Maybe from the very start, he had mistaken distance for something else – for a desire he hadn’t dared admit even to himself. Maybe his reserve had been nothing more than a shield against what he truly felt.

He knew Saint’s reputation all too well. Everyone did – a seducer. And yet… some part of Shin kept urging him to dive in anyway. This job wasn’t forever – he would leave eventually. Nothing would tie them together.

He sighed into the dark of his room. Saint could be insufferable when he tossed out his mocking remarks and shameless teasing. But when they spoke seriously about work, when he dropped the nickname for Shin and the constant flirting… he was different. He really cared about this place. Shin could see it. And it was exactly that contrast that kept pulling Shin in deeper.

Did I throw myself into this for a summer fling? The thought sounded absurd, and yet he couldn’t deny the truth. His body betrayed him every single time Saint got close. He wanted Saint. And more than that – Shin took a dangerous satisfaction in knowing that Saint responded the same way. He could see it, hear it. He felt it in every reaction. That awareness was as intoxicating as it was perilous.

He rolled onto his side, finally letting his eyes close, when suddenly, he heard a knock. He frowned and rose, walking barefoot to the door. He opened it.

Saint.

He leaned lazily against the frame, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair tousled, eyes dark and hungry. Before Shin could say a word, Saint stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Step by step, Shin backed away, the space between them shrinking with every movement… and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the taller man.

Only when the back of his legs hit the bed did Shin realise there was nowhere left to retreat. But do I even want to? – Flashed through his mind.

Saint seized the moment. His hand pressed against Shin’s chest, pushing him down lightly. Shin fell back onto the mattress, air rushing out of his lungs. Before he could gather his thoughts, Saint was already over him, one hand braced against the bed, the other gliding slowly along his jaw, brushing his lips, tracing down the faint stubble of his chin and along his neck.

Shin swallowed hard, a shiver racing straight to his core under that touch.

Saint leaned in closer, his breath hot against Shin’s ear. His voice was low, rough, dripping with heat and command, “You’ve been provoking me for so long, and now you look at me like you don’t know what to do.”

Shin parted his lips to reply, but Saint didn’t give him the chance. His mouth crashed against Shin’s, biting hard before forcing his tongue past parted lips, claiming him hungrily, greedily, as though he wanted to devour him whole. Shin moaned, arms instinctively wrapping around Saint’s neck, pulling him closer still.

Saint’s hands slipped beneath Shin’s shirt, hot and relentless. They slid across his stomach, teased his hips, then closed firmly around a nipple. Shin gasped sharply, breaking the kiss, but couldn’t stop the shudder that ripped through his body.

Saint’s fingers played mercilessly, pinching, rolling, tormenting him until his nipples were painfully sensitive, every movement a blend of torture and bliss.

“You have no idea how insane you make me,” Saint rasped against his ear, seizing Shin’s wrists and pinning them above his head. “Kitten… did you really think I’d let you sleep when all I can think about is you?”

Shin tried to speak, but only a broken whimper escaped. Saint smirked triumphantly.

“You struggle so sweetly,” he murmured against Shin’s throat. “But every move you make, every inch of you… tells me the truth. You want this, too.”

His grip on Shin’s wrists was iron, holding him down like shackles, while his tongue left blazing trails over his skin. He bit down on his collarbone hard enough to bruise, then soothed the sting with a slow, sinful drag of his tongue that made Shin’s head spin.

Lower and lower he moved, marking every inch of him with wet kisses. When he reached Shin’s nipples, he lingered, teasing one with a slow flick of his tongue, then the other, until Shin was arching helplessly beneath him, every touch pushing him closer to the edge of madness.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Saint growled, grinding his hips down against Shin’s. Both of them were already hard, desperate for release. “You drive me fucking insane, kitten. And now it’s my turn to do the same to you.”

Shin’s eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. He looked around. The room was dark, silent. No Saint. No whispers in his ear. Just him alone, tangled in the sheets, heartbeat racing far too fast.

He squeezed his eyes shut, collapsing back onto the pillow. Just a dream. That was all it had been. And yet his body betrayed him mercilessly. He was hard. Achingly aware of how much he wanted it to be true.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, covering his face with his hands.

—

The next day, Shin avoided Saint as much as possible. He couldn’t decide what burned him more: embarrassment over the dream, or the memory of the kiss.

The kiss he wanted to repeat.

He buried himself in reports and spreadsheets at the reception office. He liked this place. Eve and Airy had been the first people he’d met here, and in their office, he felt like he could actually work. With them, he felt grounded, safe.

But all it took was one stray thought, one memory of Saint – for his heart to stutter. The way he looked at him, the touch of his hands, the taste of that kiss… tangled now with the dream that still haunted him. He clenched his teeth, trying to focus on the numbers.

“Shin,” Eve burst into the office, breaking his concentration. “A woman is asking for the president. Says she had a meeting. Do you know anything about it?”

Shin nodded and stood up.

In the hall, an elegant woman waited; her dark hair was in a bun, she wore tall heels, and a short but tasteful dress. She radiated confidence.

“The president mentioned,” Shin said evenly, “that you’re signing the contract today for the jewellery line to be offered in the hotel shop.”

But as they walked, something unsettled twisted inside him. A prickling unease he couldn’t name – until her next words.

“The president…” she asked suddenly, batting her lashes at him, “is he available?”

Shin froze.

“He’s busy at the moment,” he replied curtly.

“Not like that.” She clicked her tongue impatiently. “I meant… is he seeing someone?”

Heat surged through Shin in an instant. So that was it. That burning jealousy he hadn’t wanted to admit. He shouldn’t care. It should be none of his business. And yet…

He arched a brow, looking her over. “Why would I know that? That’s a private matter.”

“You’re his assistant. Surely you know something.”

“Even if I do,” Shin’s voice went icy, “the president’s private life isn’t mine to share with anyone.”

“Oh, come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Why not mix business with some fun?”

“If you’re here to sign a contract,” Shin replied, voice sharp. “I suggest you focus on work.”

She scoffed, lips curling. “Jerk.”

“Pleasure meeting you,” he shot back.

He knocked at Saint’s office door. At the quiet “come in,” he led her inside. His voice was sharper than professional courtesy required, made Saint lift a brow in curiosity and study him closely. But Shin didn’t care. He shut the door harder than necessary and headed to the cafeteria for coffee, though, given his mood, caffeine was probably not the best idea at this moment. He was already on edge.

What was wrong with him? Why was he jealous? Why did that woman’s question infuriate him so much? He’d told himself yesterday that whatever was happening between him and Saint could only ever be a fling. Nothing more. So why was he so angry?

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. 

Saint: My office. Now.

Jaw tight, Shin abandoned his coffee and strode down the hall. As he neared the office, the woman stormed out, her expression one of irritation. Saint, however, looked… bored.

“Good, you’re here,” Saint muttered. “See the lady out, then come back to me.”

“No need,” she snapped. “I’ll find the way on my own.”

“Excellent,” Saint nodded. “From now on, general manager Peeta will be in touch with you regarding future cooperation”.

She shot him a frosty gaze, ignored Shin completely, and left with her chin high and heels clicking sharply. Strangely, Shin felt a flicker of satisfaction.

Saint’s gaze fixed on him intently.

“Come in,” he said.

As Shin crossed the threshold, he heard the door click shut and the lock turn. Saint took one step, then another, until his body was almost pressed against Shin’s back.

Shin didn’t move, but he didn’t turn either.

Saint’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him firmly back.

“Finally alone,” he murmured, lips brushing the curve of Shin’s neck.

Shin’s eyes squeezed shut at the touch, a shiver rolling through him as teeth tugged gently at his earlobe.

“You smell so fucking good,” Saint growled, burying his face in the curve of Shin’s neck. 

Shin knew he should push him away, but his body betrayed him, shivering, yielding to those hands that had already yanked his shirt free of his trousers, sliding beneath fabric. Hot palms skimmed his hips, then traced across his stomach, caressing taut muscle. Every nerve lit up, screaming for more. For harder. For everything. He wanted the dream to become real.

“Charming… woman,” Shin blurted, his voice edged with something he didn’t want to name.

Saint hummed against his ear, lips never leaving skin.

“Hmm, yeah, maybe... Contract’s signed, business done. That’s all I care about.”

“Oh, really? Because she sure seemed interested in more than a contract.” Shin’s retort came sharp, though his voice trembled, melting under the heat of Saint’s mouth.

Then Saint stopped. He turned Shin gently until their faces nearly touched, eyes narrowing.

“Are you jealous?”

Heat flooded Shin’s cheeks. “Of course not,” he said with forced nonchalance. “Why would I be?”

Saint’s smile was wide, disarming, and maddeningly provocative.

“My kitten doesn’t need to be jealous.” His hand tilted Shin’s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Listen closely, Shin. Others may knock on my door. But you’re the only one I want inside. You’re the one I want to hold all night.”

His voice was low, steady, so drenched in certainty it made Shin dizzy.

“Do you understand? Right now, the only one who matters is you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He shoved Shin back hard against the desk, forcing him to sit on the edge. Before Shin could protest, Saint stepped between his legs, spreading them wide with his knee.

Fingers made quick work of Shin’s buttons – one, two, three – until the shirt fell open, exposing bare skin. Saint’s gaze devoured him, hunger burning in his eyes. Shin’s body flamed under it, and he couldn’t deny the thrill of being wanted this much.

“Fuck, Shin…” Saint muttered, brushing a fingertip over a mole on his torso. “You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right here on this desk.”

Shin squeezed his eyes shut, hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the desk. His body was on fire, every nerve screaming under Saint’s hot, possessive touch as fingers slid lower, bolder.

And then his lips were on his again. This time, the kiss was different – slower, unhurried, devoid of the earlier brutality. Saint savoured him, explored him, drew out every second, and Shin, finally surrendering, kissed him back with everything he had. A soft moan slipped free, lost between their mingling breaths.

The ring of the phone shattered the moment.

Reluctantly, Shin pulled away, breath ragged. “Answer it,” he whispered hoarsely. “We still have to work.”

Saint cursed under his breath, snatching the receiver. “What?!” he barked, listened for a moment, then grumbled he’d be there soon.

He hung up with a snap and then pressed his forehead to Shin’s, exhaling heavily. “Peeta and the reservations manager want something.”

“Then go, before they come here themselves,” Shin muttered, trying to joke.

Saint smirked as his hand smoothed down Shin’s thigh, reluctant to let go. “Don’t you dare run away, Shin. We’ve got unfinished business.”

Shin rolled his eyes, finally pushing him away and sliding off the desk. He fumbled with his buttons, hands still trembling from arousal and frustration. One look at Saint told him everything – they both needed to compose themselves quickly, if they didn’t want anyone suspecting a thing.

***

Saint

Saint returned to his office. Of course, Shin was nowhere to be seen.

He dropped heavily into his chair, staring at the screen filled with emails and reports streaming in from other hotels, but the letters blurred before his eyes. His thoughts circled only one thing. Shin.

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. Lately, Shin was all he thought about. Day. Night. Every damn moment. That little kitten had clawed its way into Saint’s head and wouldn’t let go.

So much so that today, when the woman with the contract had practically fallen into his arms… he had still been thinking about Shin. He hadn’t needed to guess her intentions. The way her eyes had roamed over him, the way she had leaned in, deliberately invading his space.

The way she had circled the desk, perched on the edge right beside him, pretending to glance through documents while really putting her cleavage on display. Her hand had brushed his arm, then his cheek, and then…

She had kissed him.

And Saint had allowed it for only a heartbeat before pulling away, sharp and firm, the same icy mask he could summon in any situation snapping into place. His cold stare and tone had left no room for doubt: no flirting, no games, only business.

“This meeting is over,” was all he had given her.

He rubbed his face with both hands and let out a humourless laugh. He’d had a gorgeous, willing woman right in front of him. How many times had he taken exactly what he wanted without thinking twice? A quick fuck in the office was hardly new to him. And now? He had pushed her away. Because the moment her lips touched his, only one image filled his mind.

Shin.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He was furious. At himself, at Shin, at the fact that a single glance from that man could tear him apart.

Shin was a guy. Saint had never been into guys. Never. And besides, he was just a bet. 

Nothing more.

He stood abruptly and stalked to the window. From a distance, he could see guests on the terrace, people swimming in the pool.

Saint raised a hand and scrubbed his face, frustration rising in him like fire. He didn’t recognise himself anymore. Since Shin had appeared, everything had unravelled. Old pleasures suddenly meant nothing.

Even that night at the club, when he’d tried to let off steam. He could’ve had easy sex; that girl had practically thrown herself at him. And what did he do? He had only Shin in his head. He’d turned on his heel and stormed out.

And now, the same thing.

Shin was lodged in his mind. Only Shin. It was Shin’s touch he craved. Unbearably, obsessively.

“He’s just a bet… Shin is just a fucking, stupid bet,” he whispered, trying to convince himself.

Yes, that had to be it. The bet had gotten under his skin so deeply that until he had Shin completely, until he broke him entirely, there would be no peace.

Shin was only a bet.

And Saint would do anything to win. And then give the proof to the twins.

Almost unconsciously, his fingers brushed his lips, as if trying to recall Shin’s taste. Damn it, no one had ever made me this obsessed before.

He had to have him. The sooner, the better. And then… everything would go back to normal. The old Saint would return, the one who never waited, never thought, never dreamed of only one person.

A knock at the door yanked him out of his thoughts.

“Come in,” he snapped.

The door opened, and Shin walked into the office, carrying two steaming plastic cups.

“I saw the lights were still on,” he said softly. “I thought you might want something to eat.”

Saint looked at him. He was beautiful. He’d noticed it the first day, but lately he caught himself thinking about it more often. How could someone look so delicate? Those large, coffee-colored eyes, now glancing at him shyly. Fuck, if only you knew…

His gaze dropped to the two plastic cups Shin placed on his desk.

“Instant noodles?” Saint scoffed with a laugh, narrowing his eyes. “My oh-so-talented chef, and this is the best you can manage?”

“Your chef is your assistant now,” Shin replied calmly, handing him a pair of chopsticks. “It’s the only thing he can offer you tonight.”

They sat across from each other. They ate, joked, and spoke about trivial things. And Saint found himself sinking deeper into the moment. Into Shin’s voice, into his presence. He couldn’t stop staring at him.

He didn’t even realise when the words slipped out: “I like your smile.”

Shin froze, and Saint continued as if it were the most obvious thing in the world: “I think this is the first time you’ve smiled at me like that.”

A faint blush spread across Shin’s cheeks. Adorable, Saint thought.

“Saint…” Shin began, but then the phone rang.

On the screen, a group call flashed with the twins. Saint had no desire to talk to them. Not now. Not when Shin was looking at him like that, with a smile he wanted to be meant only for him.

“You should go,” he told Shin. “ Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Shin only nodded, gathered the empty cups, and slipped out of the office. Saint didn’t call back right away. It wasn’t until he was in his quarters, towel-drying his hair after a shower, that he finally returned the call.

Saint stared at the screen. Two familiar faces popped up on the call – identical, equally amused.

“Oooh, look at that, Mr. President picked up,” Knot sneered, licking his lips for effect. “And in the ‘just out of the shower’ edition, no less. Sexy, Saint. Your little chef would be thrilled.”

“What’s up, Saint? Cat got your tongue? Are you too busy with your assistant?” Nate added.

“So, has he let you under his sheets yet, or are you still playing those sappy little games to get into his pants?” Knot cackled.

They both burst into laughter, and Saint felt something boil inside him.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, don’t be so stiff,” one of them squinted, grinning wider. “We’re just asking about your little Simba. Does he already purr under you, or haven’t you tamed him yet?”

“Not gonna brag about how your chef tastes?” the other pressed. “Maybe he’s already fed you his special dessert and you’re keeping it to yourself, hm?”

Their laughter crackled through the speakers again.

Saint gripped his phone so hard the casing creaked. “Keep laughing, assholes.”

“What’s the matter, scared?” Knot taunted. “Don’t have the balls to fuck a guy?”

“Or worse,” Nate snorted. “Maybe you like that he’s a guy. Brother,” Nate turned to Knot. “Imagine our friend actually falling in love.”

“Oh fuck, Saint!” Knot jeered. “So you’re into dicks now? For real?”

Both of them howled with laughter.

“Fuck you,” Saint cut them off sharply. “You’ll get your proof soon enough.”

That only made them laugh harder.

“We’ll be waiting, Saint,” one mocked. “But don’t make us wait too long. A bet is a bet.”

“Bring us evidence,” the other chimed in. “A photo, a video, anything. Maybe your cute little assistant on his knees, mouth full, choking with your cock. Now that would be something, hmm?”

“Exactly!” his brother agreed, leaning closer to the camera. “Show us how he takes you deep in his throat… or how he moans under you on all fours, ass up in the air.”

More laughter – loud, taunting, merciless.

Saint shot to his feet, tossing the towel onto a chair. He drew in a sharp breath, fighting to calm down.

“You’ll get your proof. Soon. So cut the crap.”

The twins exchanged a look, grinning like devils.

“We’ll be waiting, Saint,” one of them waved at the camera. “Just don’t let little Simba scratch your heart too much.”

“Have fun with your adorable assistant!” The other added.

Saint hung up without a word, nearly hurling his phone at the wall. He paced the room with clenched fists, rage simmering hot inside him.

Why the fuck was he so mad? It was just a bet. Shin was nothing but a pawn in their game, nothing more. So why the hell did their jeers sting?

A bet. That was all it was. Shin was just another conquest. A conquest meant to give him a bit of fun and physical satisfaction. He repeated it in his head like a mantra.

And yet, when the fury finally dulled, when he turned off the light and collapsed onto his bed, he saw Shin again – his damn honest, sweet smile that had disarmed him earlier that evening.

With that smile burned under his eyelids, he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Shin

A few days had passed. The hotel was working at full capacity – peak season, every room booked, the front desk barely keeping up with check-ins, and the offices drowning in chaos. To make matters worse, the reservation system had crashed. Saint flew into a rage, snapping at the IT team, demanding why he was paying them if all they could do was stare at screens.

When they finally managed to get everything back online, all the data from the outage had to be entered manually. And yet, through all the commotion, Shin still felt Saint’s gaze on him.

Saint’s hand on his back, seemingly casual, lingered a second too long as he issued instructions to the team.

“Shin will handle that. Anything important, direct it to him.”

Whenever documents changed hands, their fingers barely brushed, but Shin felt a pleasant current shoot through him each time.

The breaking point came in the cafeteria. Shin stood before the open fridge, searching for milk for his coffee, when suddenly he felt Saint’s arm wrap around his waist, and, even more unexpectedly, his lips on his mouth.

“Are you insane?!” Shin hissed, jerking back and glancing around nervously. “Do you want someone to see us?!”

His heart was pounding like mad. He tried to look furious, but he couldn’t hide the dizzying rush in his veins, because… he liked it. The secrecy, the risk. Being a step away from getting caught.

Saint only flashed him a wide, reckless grin. “Relax. No one’s coming this way.”

Shin narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly where the cameras ended, but people sometimes slipped in quietly, unexpectedly. 

“You’re just having fun with this,” Shin hissed.

“Fun? If this is fun, then I never want it to end,” Saint shot back, grabbing the milk to make them coffee.

—

Later that evening, they were still in the office. Shin was inputting numbers into a report on his laptop while Saint wrapped up a video conference with overseas partners.

“I feel like eating something,” Saint said, stretching. “Preferably prepared by a certain charming chef.”

Shin didn’t look up from his report. “The chefs have already finished their shift.”

“But I only know one charming chef.” His tone carried a smile. “And he’s sitting right in front of me.”

Shin raised a brow, feigning indifference. “Funny. Because all I see here is the president’s assistant.”

Saint chuckled. “In that case, the president’s assistant will soon return to his little kingdom – if he wants to.”

Shin froze for a moment, unexpectedly tense. He didn’t even know why the words hit him so strangely. Shaking his head as if to rid himself of the feeling, he said briskly: “All right, Mr. President. Dinner time. Report to the main kitchen in ten minutes.” He closed his laptop and left first.

—

As he expected, the kitchen was empty. Normally, the cooks wore their own uniforms, but Shin found two spare aprons. As he tied one on, Saint walked in – and Shin instantly felt his eyes on him, following his every move with a hunger so intense it nearly burned him up from the inside.

“Come here,” Shin said to the taller man.

Saint stepped in close – so close that Shin had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes. He slipped the apron on him, tying the strings neatly around his waist.

“I’d been hoping you’d take clothes off me tonight… not add another layer,” Saint whispered against his ear.

Heat crept up Shin’s neck, but he pretended it didn’t affect him. “It’s late. We’ll make something light.”

He reached for the pots, but then felt Saint wrap around him from behind, lips grazing the skin of his neck.

“I’d prefer something sweet,” Saint murmured suggestively.

Shin pulled back at the last second as a security guard barged in, clearly startled to see them there.

“Good evening, Mr. President. Just doing my rounds.”

Shin froze, but Saint only smiled lazily.

“I asked the chef to prepare a trial menu for next week’s dinner with the actors. Everything must be perfect. No need for further inspections while we’re here.” His tone was sharp, unquestionable.

Shin wondered what the guard must have thought, but knowing Saint’s reputation and his obsession with perfection, it probably didn’t surprise him. The guard just nodded and left.

Saint turned back to Shin with a broad grin, as if nothing had happened. “See? Everything’s under control.”

Shin sighed, rolling his eyes. “All right, Mr. President. Let’s make this trial menu for your actors.”

They cooked something simple – a light vegetable soup. They laughed when Saint’s carrot slices came out so unevenly that they looked like abstract art rather than neat rounds. Shin groaned theatrically and corrected him with a laugh.

“Have you ever set foot in a kitchen before?” He muttered, shaking his head.

Saint only shrugged and, instead of defending himself, stole quick kisses whenever Shin leaned too close. Shin laughed loudly, fending him off with the wooden spoon.

At one point, Saint suddenly grew serious. “So… where did this passion for cooking come from?”

Shin froze for a moment, then answered, “I’m not even sure… I liked helping my parents in the kitchen when I was little, though I probably just got in the way. I liked experimenting with ingredients, seeing what could come out of mixing one thing with another.” He hesitated, then admitted, almost against his will: “I’d like to open my own restaurant. In the near future.”

Silence fell. Saint didn’t say anything, just watched him with a look Shin couldn’t read – intent, as if he wanted to see deeper into his thoughts. They stayed like that until Shin cleared his throat, trying to break the intensity.

“Add a pinch of salt. A pinch, understand?” He stressed.

Finally, the soup was ready. Shin dipped the spoon, blew on it, and held it out for Saint.

“Taste.”

Saint leaned in, tried it, but didn’t look away from Shin for a single second.

“Well?” Shin asked.

Saint didn’t reply. His gaze was so intense it sent shivers down Shin’s spine. Frowning, Shin tried it himself. 

“Mhm, not bad,” he muttered, trying to mask his fluster.

He switched off the burner, ready to say more, but didn’t get the chance. Saint grabbed his wrist, yanking him close, and kissed him hard. His tongue found Shin’s, hot and demanding, and Shin felt his knees weaken. He moaned straight into the kiss, fingers clutching at Saint’s apron.

Saint growled in satisfaction, deepening it even further. And then – just as suddenly as he’d kissed him, he pulled back, leaving Shin dizzy, heart racing, body aching for more.

Saint’s lips curved into a lazy smirk.

“The soup is good,” he said casually, as if talking about something trivial. “But next time… I want you for dinner.”

And as if nothing had happened, he reached for the ladle, filling their bowls. Shin just stared at him, heart flipping over in his chest, his whole body burning hotter than the steam rising from the pot.

***

Saint

Saint woke up early. He knew right away he couldn’t stay trapped within four walls any longer. Pulling on his running shoes, he stepped outside and took off down the city streets. The cool, crisp air brushed against his heated skin, but it brought no relief. It didn’t clear his head in the slightest.

Every step pounded in rhythm with a single thought.

Shin.

The past few days with him twisted through Saint’s mind like a knot that couldn’t be undone. Victory in the bet was almost within reach – Shin was practically his already. And yet, something smouldered in his chest, something he couldn’t name. Something he had never felt before.

He had a rule: no one at the hotel could ever find out. No situations that might spark suspicion. Shin understood that perfectly. He seemed to want to keep their relationship as a secret, too, which suited Saint just fine. And yet… just one moment, one smile from him, and Saint forgot everything. The risk. The consequences. Common sense itself. One look into Shin’s eyes and all his discipline shattered to dust.

He stopped abruptly, hands braced on his hips as he tried to steady his breathing. Sweat dripped down his temple, along his neck. A glance at his watch told him he was only halfway through. He turned back, quickening his pace. His legs burned, his heart raced, but none of it was as unbearable as the storm of thoughts in his head.

His mind wandered back to the last night in the kitchen. Shin’s laughter. The adorable way he furrowed his brows when correcting him on chopping. That calm voice as he spoke about food. His words: “I’d like to open my own restaurant. In the near future.”

Saint felt a sudden twist in his gut. Did that mean Shin planned to leave? He shook his head. Of course he did. Of course, Shin would leave. Why would he want to keep working here – especially once Saint inevitably ended things? That was the whole point of the bet: make Shin fall for him, break his heart, then move on. After it was over, Saint planned to return to Bangkok, cut off this whole affair, and dive into the next challenge the twins set for him. Find a new toy.

So why now, sprinting back toward the hotel, did he want to curse his own thoughts? Why did the idea of Shin disappearing suddenly make his blood boil? The unpleasant feeling crawled along every nerve, spreading through him like poison. A thought he refused to name, one he wouldn’t even allow himself to face – that without Shin, this place would be… unbearably empty.

He pushed himself faster, as if he could outrun the thought.

—

In the afternoon, Saint couldn’t find Shin anywhere. He texted him, but Shin’s phone was left in the office. So he walked around the hotel and finally stopped one of the receptionists. She told him Shin had gone on lunch break.

His steps carried him toward the canteen before he even realised it. He didn’t know why. What would he even say if he found him with the others? “Come with me, because I want to kiss you”? He snorted under his breath and shook his head, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He felt himself teetering on the edge of losing control.

He was just about to go in when he heard Shin’s laugh. A moment later – another. Male voice. Tew. Saint felt his fists clench on their own. In his mind, he saw Shin smiling at him the same way he had during the tasting. Something inside him snapped – a hot, gnawing feeling that burned through his chest.

And then Airy spoke, “Hey, you know what?” Her voice dropped conspiratorially. “I saw the schedule. On Saturday, we’re all off. Literally all four of us.”

“So what?” Tew mumbled with his mouth full.

“So it’s the perfect chance for a little trip to the city!” She said with enthusiasm. “Go to the bar, have some fun. And you and Shin will finally get to see something other than the hotel.”

“Great idea!” Eve clapped her hands.

Airy’s smile widened. “And on top of that… my cousin is coming too. And she’s bringing a friend.”

Saint felt his blood pulse faster. He didn’t catch Shin’s answer, but he didn’t need to. The suggestion alone was enough. A date? With some random girl? Not a chance. He was too close to winning – he wasn’t going to let anyone, anyone, ruin this.

“It’s not like you’d have to get engaged right away,” Airy laughed, clearly replying to something Shin had said. “Just meet her, chat, have fun together. Maybe there’ll be a spark, maybe not, but even if not, it’ll still be a good time.”

“Exactly. No pressure, just chill,” Eve chimed in.

That was the moment Saint snapped. He wanted to cut through that irritating chatter. He walked into the canteen under the pretence of getting himself coffee. Smiles froze for a moment, and he immediately felt Shin’s gaze on him. 

Shin was watching him carefully, as if trying to read from his face whether he had heard their conversation. Saint, however, didn’t say a word. He grabbed a cup, poured coffee, and, without turning back toward them, left the canteen, unwilling to hear the rest.

—

Saint sat at his desk, scrolling through the screen, not even looking up when Shin walked in and set a stack of papers down.

“Updated list of upcoming VIP groups,” Shin said calmly. “And the sales department report.”

“Mhm,” Saint grunted shortly. He flipped through a few pages, but his focus wasn’t on the numbers or the names.

Finally, he set the papers down, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Something sharp reflected in his gaze.

“So… you’re going on a date?” He asked coldly, as if each word had to be forced out.

Shin raised an eyebrow, then snorted with laughter.

“A date? Seriously? Of course not,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Just going out for a beer with the others.”

“Right,” Saint muttered, pretending not to care, though his eyes betrayed him. “Funny. That conversation sounded different.”

Shin rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically.

“It’s just a bar crawl, nothing fancy. No need to worry, Mr. President. I’m not suddenly marrying Airy’s cousin,” he added with a bite.

Saint narrowed his eyes. His fingers curled into a fist.

“What’s with the sarcasm?” He snapped. “Maybe I should remind you. You’re mine. And I won’t have anyone trying to hit on you.”

Shin froze for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.

“What’s your problem, Saint?” He asked icily. “You’re making an issue because I want to spend a day off with colleagues?”

“A problem?” Saint exploded, slamming his hand down on the desk. “Don’t try to dress this up as some casual outing. If you think I’ll sit and watch you flirt with some local girl, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Shin paused, then let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“Are you serious?”

Saint stood up abruptly from behind the desk, his presence suddenly looming over the smaller man.

“I’m deadly serious, Shin,” he growled. “You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine. And I don’t ever want to see you throwing that sweet smile around.”

Shin met his gaze, hard, and through clenched teeth said, “I’m going because I have the day off and… because I want to. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him. Saint whirled around and drove his fist into the desktop with all his force, swearing under his breath.

“Fuck… you will be the end of me, kitten.”

Chapter Text

Shin

Shin sat at the bar with the whole group. Earlier, they had wandered through the city, which had begun to pulse with life after dark. The streets were flooded with tourists, bars and cafes lit up with neon and colourful lights, and every table outside was occupied. 

Laughter, music, and the aroma of food filled the air, yet Shin felt somehow cut off from all the commotion. He sipped his beer, catching bits of his coworkers’ jokes with one ear, but his mind wandered elsewhere entirely.

He couldn’t stop thinking about him. About Saint.

His thoughts kept returning to the past day. They’d barely interacted, keeping their distance, and when they had to work together, it was limited to short, stiff sentences. Shin was irritated. He quickly lost patience when Saint snapped at him in the office, accusing him of things pulled out of thin air.

Yes, Airy’s cousin and her friend were now sitting with them at the table, but he genuinely wasn’t interested in them. Saint would have understood that if he’d just let him explain. But instead of listening, he made a scene. And Shin, losing patience, had fired back. They hadn’t spoken to each other for almost two days.

What the hell was he doing? He had come here with a clear plan: improve his kitchen skills, gain experience, earn money for his own business, and leave. Simple. And now?

Now, between one coworker’s joke and another swig of beer, Shin missed him. Missed his closeness, his touch, his lips. Even those annoying jokes. Instead of sticking to the plan, he was sinking deeper into this feeling, afraid he’d never surface again.

Then, amid the laughter and loud music, he felt his phone vibrate. He glanced at the screen and froze.

Saint: I want to see you.

His heart sped up. He typed a reply:

Shin: I don’t think we have anything to talk about.

Before he could even set the phone down, the screen lit up again.

Saint: Fuck, Shin. Don’t piss me off.

And a moment later, a second message, much longer, pulsing with an intensity that made Shin’s stomach tighten.

Saint: You’ve been keeping me awake all night. You’re under my skin, in my head, and I can’t breathe until I see you again.

Shin swallowed hard, feeling something quiver inside him. He could ignore it. He should. But instead, he started typing, as if guided by someone else.

Shin: If you want to see me - ask. Then, maybe I’ll agree.

The reply came instantly, simple, almost brutally desperate.

Saint: Please.

Shin froze. Just one word. So unlike Saint that, for a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined it. A moment later, the phone vibrated again.

Saint: This is the first time I’ve ever fucking asked anyone for anything. So you better get your ass out of that damn meeting and come to me.

One more notification.

Saint: I’m waiting in the parking lot in front of the bar.

Shin inhaled sharply, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Saint. Here. Outside. Had he completely lost his mind? If they both got caught…

And yet… he stood up from the table.

“Shin?” Eve raised an eyebrow.

“Is something wrong?” Airy asked.

He gave them a short, forced smile.

“Nothing serious. I just have work early tomorrow, so I'd better get going.”

“You’re kidding?!” Tew exclaimed. “Tomorrow is Sunday. The administration department doesn’t work.” He gave him a suspicious look. “That was Saint texting you just now? Seriously, that guy goes way overboard with work.”

“Yeah,” Eve added irritably. “As if he couldn’t wait until Monday.”

Shin tried to keep his tone calm, though his heart pounded like drums.

“Really, it’s nothing. He’s just moving my schedule, so I’ll get the day off another time. Now… have fun, okay?”

Without waiting for more questions, he left. His heart raced as he crossed the street and went to a small parking lot. Saint’s car was there, impossible to miss. Shin’s hand trembled as he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. He hadn’t even caught his breath before two large hands cupped his face, and Saint’s lips found his. A short kiss, full of heat, so intense it burned his skin.

“Buckle up,” Saint murmured hoarsely, pulling back just enough to turn the key.

They drove in silence. Shin stole glances at Saint behind the wheel – focused, tense, every ounce of attention on the dark road ahead. The city was behind them: lights, people, noise. Only silence, the road, and the tension inside the car, stretching like a rope pulled to its limit.

The phone vibrated again. A message from Tew: Did you get back safely?

Shin quickly typed that he did, and that he was going to sleep. He knew it was ridiculous. He had no idea where he was. But how could he explain that he was driving into the unknown in the middle of the night with his boss, whom he had just kissed – and that it was the best and riskiest feeling he’d had in a long time?

Finally, they left the main road. Saint parked on a cliffside, turned off the engine, leaving only the car lights and the interior lamp on. He got out, and Shin followed. He looked around; it had to be a viewpoint. During the day, it probably offered a stunning view of the sea and the beach. Now, because of the new moon, all he could see was the endless darkness of the sky.

Saint rubbed his face with his hand. In the shadows of the car lights, he looked tired.

“Fuck, Shin, you’re driving me crazy,” he croaked.

Shin didn’t reply. He just watched. Until Saint stepped closer and simply wrapped him in an embrace, resting his head on Shin’s shoulder. The night’s silence was broken only by their quiet breaths and the chirping of insects, mingling with the distant sound of the waves.

“Ever since I saw you at that damn work party,” he continued without raising his head. “I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head day and night.”

Finally, he looked up and cupped Shin’s face in his hands. His warm fingertips traced over Shin’s cheeks.

“Shin. Say something. Give me a sign that I’m not the only one losing my mind.”

Shin opened his mouth, but no words came out. It felt like the emotions swelling inside him were too big to fit in one body.

“I…,” he licked his lips nervously. “I feel the same, Saint. I thought this would just be fun. Something temporary. But I… I want more. I want you.”

The words spilt out, finally breaking free from their cage. There was no turning back now. He pulled Saint toward him, pressing their lips together with urgency. His tongue explored every corner of Saint’s mouth, while his hands roamed over the fabric of his clothes. With trembling fingers, he fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel him closer.

“To the car. Now.” Saint growled, his voice low and rough, his gaze never leaving Shin’s.

He opened the rear door and practically pushed Shin onto the seat, then followed him. Shin straddled him, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the car.

“Careful, kitty, you'll hurt yourself,” Saint rasped, his hands sliding over Shin's chest beneath the shirt.

But Shin didn’t seem to hear him. His lips found Saint’s again, hands tracing the taut muscles sculpted from hours at the gym. He trailed his lips down Saint’s neck, over his collarbone, across his chest, until Saint tipped his head back and soft, clipped curses escaped him. Shin felt triumphant – he was making this composed, confident man lose control with just a touch.

“Hands,” Saint ordered.

Shin understood immediately. He raised his arms as high as the cramped space allowed, and Saint helped him take off his shirt, which had fallen somewhere under the seat. Shin’s trembling fingers reached for Saint’s belt, unbuckling it hastily. Both were fully aroused.

The desire that had been burning in him for so long now erupted with full force. No barriers remained, no excuses.

Saint’s lips moved from neck to chest, grazing his Adam’s apple before trailing lower, marking a wet path across his skin. Shin groaned, yet his pleasure-clouded mind registered every detail, sending another wave of heat through him.

Saint didn’t kiss randomly. His tongue traced a precise, obsessive path, lingering on every visible mole.

He licked one, then another, sucking and teasing with the tip of his tongue, returning again and again, insatiable. Obsession trembled in every movement - in the greedy way he lingered on each mark along Shin’s neck and chest, in the desperate hunger with which he pressed his lips to them.

“Fuck…” Shin muttered through gritted teeth, fingers tangling in Saint’s hair. “This really is your kink.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Saint growled, tearing his lips away from the mole on Shin’s breastbone only to press his forehead against his.

Without waiting for a word, he reached violently for Shin’s pants, his fingers trembling with tension as he finally freed them both.

Their hard members pressed together, hot and wet with desire. Saint hissed loudly, struck by a wave of craving.

“You’re my greatest victory,” Saint whispered hoarsely, still holding him close, feeling the heat and stickiness on his skin. “Never had I won something so… satisfying.”

A moan of pleasure escaped Shin’s lips as Saint’s hand slid over their joined members, faster and harder with each stroke.

“Can you hear yourself?” Saint growled in his ear, nibbling his earlobe. “That sound is so fucking addictive.”

His fingers tightened, movements quickened. Shin gripped Saint’s arm, nails leaving red marks on his skin as he lost himself in the sensation.

He tilted his head back, eyes closed, hair plastered to his damp temple. A rasping moan escaped his throat as the wave of pleasure grew, relentless, unstoppable.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, kitty,” Saint hissed.

Saint’s hand didn’t pause for a second. Shin’s trembling thighs and exquisite spasms told him he couldn’t hold out much longer. His whole body shook violently. A choked cry tore from his throat as pleasure exploded through him, radiating across their torsos.

Saint cum a moment later, a groan escaping his clenched teeth, his hand stained with heat mingled with Shin’s.

They breathed heavily, Shin’s head falling onto Saint’s shoulder, neither having the strength to pull away. Their breaths were harsh, ragged, but the night air cooled their heated skin.

Shin felt the taller man wrap his arms around him.

“You’re mine… and I don’t ever want to let you go,” Saint whispered, so quietly that Shin wondered if he had really said it at all.

***

Saint

They sat in the car's quiet interior. Shin straddling his lap, his head resting against Saint’s shoulder. They were sweaty, slightly grimy from what had just happened, yet Saint held him tightly, almost possessively. The warmth radiating from his bare chest was so comforting that he didn’t want to let go.

Stroking his back, Saint thought about what had just occurred. If this moment was already so full of pleasure, how incredible would it be when they give themselves completely to each other? Unaware of anything, Shin breathed softly into his shoulder, tickling him lightly with each exhale.

“I missed you,” Shin whispered, still not looking at him.

Those words completely caught Saint off guard. He could see in Shin’s gestures and glances that the man was falling for him, and now he was hearing it outright. The words resonated through every nerve in Saint, sending a shiver he couldn’t control. Shin was his.

“I missed you, too, Shin,” Saint replied, running his fingers through his hair. “Those two days of silence from you drove me crazy. I was furious at the thought that you could be enjoying yourself with someone else, that they’d all see your sweet smile…”

Shin lifted his head and looked at him carefully, silently. Saint continued:

“I was so damn jealous I jumped in this car and… I don’t even know what I planned to do. Barge into that damn bar and drag you out by force? I want you all to myself. I want that look in your eyes to be for me alone. I want to be the one who puts that smile on your face.”

Saint felt his thoughts spinning, as if he’d suddenly lost control over his own body and emotions. Those words… he thought they would be a lie, that he’d have to make up some sappy story, but he surprised himself when he spoke them. Because they were true. His own words resonated in his every nerve. Shin made him go insane, feel emotions he’d never experienced before – a mix of awe and that strange, unfamiliar calm when holding Shin in his arms.

When Shin took his face in his hands and looked him in the eyes, Saint knew he was completely lost in those coffee-brown pupils. They were full of tenderness, desire, and… something he couldn’t name.

Then Shin kissed him gently, barely brushing his lips, and smiled. A smile so beautiful that Saint could have looked at it for hours.

Finally, Shin slid off his lap and began searching under the seat for his shirt.

“It’s late, let’s head back to the hotel,” he murmured.

Saint nodded, buttoning the now-wrinkled shirt, and then they moved up to the front seats. He started driving toward the resort, but couldn’t resist – he reached for Shin’s hand resting casually on his thigh and laced their fingers together. The warmth radiating from him was incredibly soothing.

As they neared the resort, Shin told him to stop.

“I’ll walk from here.”

“Shin–”

“Cameras, remember? Security sees everything.”

Saint reluctantly nodded and parked nearby, watching as Shin walked through the gate and disappeared into the distance. Only after receiving a message that Shin was safely in his room did he start the car again and drive into the parking lot.

He rested his head on the headrest, running a hand over his face. His thoughts went back to Shin’s touch, his scent, that smile… and that warmth, still resonating in him like an echo.

“Pull yourself together, damn it,” he muttered to himself. “Shin is just a bet. Sweet, intoxicating, like a drug… but just a bet.”

With that thought, he pulled out the hidden camera and turned it over in his fingers – proof for the twins.

“And I’ve just won… I won the bet.” He whispered into the silence of the car, his heart trembling at the memory of everything that had just happened.