Perfectly Imperfect

by eepycato

Summary:

On the first day of their reunion after years apart, Rome wastes no time claiming Mok, pulling him somewhere completely unexpected.

But the hardest battle Mok faces isn’t from outside— it’s accepting that he deserves to be loved, no matter how much he’s changed or what scars he carries.

Mok didn’t expect his hands to shake. Not after seven years of serving Mr. Thee— the Arseni family. Not after facing guns, knives, and men twice his size without blinking.

But Rome Arseni stood in front of him again, and suddenly, Mok didn’t know what to do with his own heartbeat.

Rome tilted his head, that familiar crooked smile forming like it had been waiting just for Mok. His hair was longer now, he was buffer. He looked taller too, or maybe just more grown, more sure of himself. The sharp expensive coat did nothing to hide the subtle confidence he carried now.

But his eyes… those were exactly the same.

Warm. Bright. Like Mok was someone worth looking at.

“I missed you,” Rome said, simple and direct, like those years apart meant nothing at all. Like Mok hadn’t spent every night wondering if he had already been forgotten.

Mok opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Because all he could think was— Rome looks better than before. More mature. More… everything. And Mok? The same guy. Just broader shoulders, a little more weight he wasn’t proud of, and the constant fear that Rome would take one look and think—

He changed. And not in a good way.

Before Mok could gather a word, Rome reached forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist— warm, confident, claiming.

“Come on,” Rome grinned, tugging. “Let’s go.”

Mok blinked. “Wait— go where?”

Rome pulled harder, already dragging him toward the exit of the Arseni house. “Your seven-day leave with me officially starts now.”

“But—” Mok tried to plant his feet. “Master Thee hasn’t—”

“I’ll tell him!” Rome announced like that solved everything.

“You can’t just—”

“I missed you so much, Mok,” Rome said again, dramatically, like Mok was escaping a kidnapping instead of being dragged ten steps across the driveway. “Don’t make me handcuff you.”

Mok stared. “Handcuffs?”

Rome winked. “Mafia son perks.”

“That is not a perk,” Mok protested as he stumbled forward, almost tripping because Rome was stronger than he looked. “And my leave doesn’t start until—”

“It starts when I say it starts,” Rome declared proudly. “Also, I already packed your things.”

“You what—?”

Rome lifted his phone. “P’Kian said yes, by the way.”

“You… called him already?”

Rome nodded, smug. “Last night. He laughed and said, ‘Should I get the wheelchair ready?’”

Mok’s entire face burst into heat. “Wheelchair? Why— why would he?”

Rome just kept walking, dragging Mok along like a very determined puppy with a favorite toy. Somehow, Mok’s legs were moving but his brain was definitely not online.

Before he knew it, they were in front of another van. The driver politely opened the back door, clearly used to the youngest Arseni’s dramatic kidnappings.

Mok tried to step in like a normal person but Rome tugged harder and he stumbled right into Rome’s chest instead.

“Careful,” Rome murmured, voice too close, too warm.

Mok quickly straightened, trying not to combust. He sat stiffly, posture perfect while Rome slid in right beside him, no space left uninvaded.

The door shut. The van started.

Mok exhaled slowly… Then Rome leaned in and wrapped both arms around him. Tight. Like he had waited years.

“Rome—” Mok tried. “There’s someone—”

“I don’t care,” Rome said into his shoulder. His nose brushed against Mok’s collar. “You smell the same.”

A quiet inhale.

“Like home.”

Mok’s breath caught— his earpiece wire got tangled between them as Rome nuzzled closer, lips grazing the side of Mok’s neck before his brain could stop them.

Mok jolted, blush exploding across his cheeks.

“Rome— we’re being watched—” His voice cracked embarrassingly. He glanced sharply toward the front— bodyguard in passenger seat, driver focused on the road, both painfully aware.

Rome looked up at the tinted divider panel, thoughtful for half a second.

Then—

Click.

The opaque privacy screen slid up, blocking the front entirely.

“There,” Rome announced, pleased with himself. “No witnesses.”

Mok’s heartbeat didn’t know where the exit was. He tried to back away, but the seat corner trapped him. Rome followed easily, forehead resting against Mok’s temple like it was his natural spot.

“You’re still so jumpy,” Rome whispered, smiling against his skin. “I like it.”

Mok swallowed, voice small. “I’m supposed to be working.”

“No,” Rome said, pulling him closer again, slower this time, softer, one hand settling carefully on the back of Mok’s neck. “You’re supposed to be with me.”

Mok didn’t trust his voice anymore, so he stayed quiet— staring forward, ears burning, heart betraying him completely.

Rome pressed more lingering kiss below his jaw.

“I really missed you,” he murmured.

Another kiss followed, softer this time, at the corner of Mok’s jaw. Then one to his cheek. Then to his temple. Each one a quiet plea— don’t go away again.

Mok sucked in a breath when Rome gently lifted his hand to the back of his neck, thumb brushing the tiny microphone wire hooked around Mok’s ear.

“This thing,” Rome mumbled, already unclipping it with careful fingers. “It’s annoying. It keeps getting in the way of your face.”

“It’s part of my job,” Mok managed, though his voice barely existed.

“But you’re not working anymore.” Rome grinned and kissed his cheek again anyway.

“I missed you,” Rome whispered.

Another kiss.

“I missed you,” he repeated, voice a little higher, like he was whining.

Another kiss.

“I missed you,” softer, almost desperate, his arms sliding around Mok’s waist now, holding on like he was afraid Mok might fade.

Mok’s face was so hot he could boil tea with it. He pushed at Rome’s shoulder gently. It was not enough to escape, just enough to breathe.

“I— I missed you too,” Mok said, the words tumbling out small and shaky.

Rome froze for half a second.

And then he surged forward.

Their lips met— not clumsy, not hesitant, but like they’d been waiting years and couldn’t wait another second. Rome kissed him like he was relearning every angle of his mouth, slow at first but quickly, quickly growing hungry.

Mok’s hand gripped the fabric of Rome’s brown coat, trying to steady himself as his heart did something absolutely dangerous in his chest.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were uneven, lips centimeters apart, Rome’s forehead pressed against his.

Rome smiled first— wide and shameless and so in love that Mok’s knees nearly forgot how to function.

“Where are we going?” Mok asked, still breathless, still trying to pretend he had control over anything happening.

Rome leaned back just enough to meet his eyes.

“To places,” he said like it was obvious. “Our seven days. Just you and me.”

He squeezed Mok’s waist gently, excitement lighting up every part of his face.

“I’m stealing you,” Rome declared proudly.

Mok tried to look annoyed. It failed immediately.

He was smiling— helplessly, stupidly, fully.

“…Fine.” He swallowed. “But only for seven days.”

Rome’s grin grew mischievous.

“Then I’ll just have to make you want more.”

—

The van continued down the quiet highway, city lights eventually fading into open roads and soft scenery. The sun setting down. It’s almost night.

Rome didn’t let go of him the entire ride. 

Sometimes he talked— animatedly, dramatically, impossible to interrupt. Sometimes he just held Mok’s hand like he needed to confirm it was real over and over again.

Rome told him all the stories Mok had missed— the people he’d met, the food he hated, the training he barely survived. He complained endlessly about jet lag, then switched to bragging, saying it meant he could stay awake longer to spend more time with Mok. He even brought up Thee.

“He didn’t want to give you seven days,” Rome confessed dramatically, throwing his head back like he had suffered a great injustice. “He said three was enough.”

Mok raised an eyebrow. “Then how did you convince him?”

Rome puffed up proudly. “I threatened to cry.”

Mok blinked. “…You what?”

“And then I actually cried,” Rome corrected, lifting a finger. “Because that’s called commitment.”

Mok burst out laughing— the first real, unrestrained laugh he had let himself have in years. Rome looked disproportionately proud of himself for earning it.

“He said he’d train me when I arrived here and it will be hell,” Rome continued, groaning. 

“But worth it. Pain builds character.” He paused. “And also muscles. Which you clearly appreciate.”

Mok flushed harder than necessary. “I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Rome teased, eyes glinting. “Don’t lie. It’s fine. You can worship me later.”

Mok shoved him lightly. Rome beamed.

The van slowed. The driver spoke briefly through the intercom, “We’ve arrived, sir.”

Rome’s grin stretched wide— trouble flashing in his eyes.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“No.”

“Mok, please.”

“…Fine.” Mok closed them, mostly because resisting Rome was a losing battle anyway. Rome helped guide him out of the van, hands steady on his waist, excitement practically radiating from him.

“Okay,” Rome whispered close to his ear. “Open.”

Mok opened his eyes—

And froze.

Bright lights. Roller coasters looping wildly against the night sky. Crowds cheering, colorful signs, loud playful music, balloons drifting above the entrance.

An amusement park.

Mok stared— speechless, because of all the places Rome could have brought him to, this was the last he would ever guess.

He looked at Rome slowly, disbelief plain on his face.

“You brought me here?” he asked, voice caught between confused and stunned. “You— Rome Arseni are taking me to an amusement park.”

Rome nodded proudly. “Yup.”

“You’re a mafia,” Mok reminded him in a whisper like it was a secret Rome might’ve forgotten.

“All the more reason to have fun,” Rome replied, as if it were the most logical sentence ever spoken.

“…Aren’t you jetlagged?” Mok tried, genuinely concerned. “This is going to exhaust you more.”

Rome shrugged, stepping closer, his shoulder bumping Mok’s lightly.

“Seven days is short, Mok,” he said, tone softening but excitement still bubbling underneath. “I plan on making every minute count.”

Mok stared at him— at that stubborn determination, at the pure joy lighting up Rome’s face.

Amusement parks were loud. Crowded. Messy.

Mok had spent years living clean, controlled, sharp, constantly aware of threats.

This felt unreal.

Rome reached for his hand again, fingers sliding between Mok’s so naturally it stole his breath for a moment.

“Come on,” Rome said, eyes sparkling like the entire park was his personal plan for happiness. “Let’s do everything we’ve never done.”

Mok exhaled, slow but warm— something in his chest loosening.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Lead the way.”

Rome grinned like he had just stolen the moon.

They didn’t walk straight into the park.

Rome tugged him toward a side entrance where two discreet security staff handed over a small duffel bag— one Rome immediately slung over his shoulder.

“Clothes,” he announced proudly, like he was revealing treasure.

Mok raised a brow. “We’re already dressed.”

“Too formal,” Rome argued. “We have to blend in.”

Blend in. Right.

Inside a quiet restroom hallway, Rome pushed the bag into Mok’s hands. Mok opened it… blinked and blinked again.

Soft hoodies. Loose shirts. Joggers. Everything casual but casual in a way that was so obviously expensive it almost glowed. Even the fabric felt like the kind used for royalty pretending to be peasants.

Mok looked down at the label on the shirt and nearly choked.

This one garment alone probably cost more than his entire monthly pay.

“You bought all this?” Mok asked, voice thin.

Rome was already stripping off his coat without a second thought, turtle neck top riding up and giving Mok an unfair view of a well-built V-line

“Of course I did. We need to look normal.”

Mok stared at Rome’s bare torso. And at the absurdity of it all.

“Rome,” he said slowly, “this is not normal. Normal clothes don’t have customized names engraved with the brand logo.”

Rome paused, looked down at the shirt in his hand as if noticing the tags for the first time, then shrugged.

“It’s normal for us.”

Mok bit the inside of his cheek, trying very hard not to smile. Rome turned toward him fully, hoodie half-zipped, hair messy, grin wide— like he had been waiting years to stand next to Mok in something simple and comfortable.

“Come on,” Rome urged. “Change.”

Mok hesitated. 

Even though this was just a restroom, even though Rome wasn’t looking… the old fear crept up. 

He changed quickly, carefully angling his body away— hiding scars, hiding the parts of himself he was still convinced weren’t worth being seen.

When they stepped out, Rome took one look at Mok— hoodie hanging a little loose on his broad shoulders, sleeves slightly long, making him look younger, softer and his entire face softened.

“You look perfect,” Rome said. No teasing. Just truth.

Mok’s throat tightened. “You’re biased.”

“I am,” Rome agreed instantly. “And I’m right.”

They stepped out together into the bright lights and swirling music. 

For a terrifying moment, Mok thought this entire park was rented out for them. He expected to see empty lines, closed gates, silence, guard everywhere—

But the noise hit him.

Crowds. Families. Teenagers taking pictures. Couples eating ice cream.

Life.

Real and loud and unfiltered.

Rome glanced at Mok, reading his thoughts with ridiculous ease.

“I thought about buying out the place,” he admitted casually.

Mok looked sharply at him shocked. “Rome—”

“But,” Rome cut in, eyes softening, “this time isn’t just about me being rich enough to protect you from everything. It’s about us doing something real. Something we never got to have.”

Mok blinked, stunned silent as Rome squeezed his hand— smaller gesture, bigger feeling.

“I wanted a normal night with you,” Rome said quietly. “No eyes watching. No distance. Just you. Beside me.”

The wind carried the smell of popcorn and sugar. Laughter burst in the air around them. Light painted Rome’s face in shifting colors— blues, reds, warm gold.

And for once in a very long time, Mok felt like he wasn’t living someone else’s life.

“Rome…” he breathed.

Rome grinned, tugging him toward the entrance gates.

“Come on. I want to hear you scream on the rides.”

Mok snorted. “That’s not going to happen.”

Rome’s smirk was dangerous. “Challenge accepted.”

Mok shook his head, but his heart— the one that had been locked tight and guarded for years, loosened.

For tonight… he could let go just a little. Just enough to feel alive again.

Their first stop was one of those classic strength tester machines— the kind where you swing a hammer as hard as you can, hoping to ring the bell at the top. Mok eyed it skeptically while Rome’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Watch and learn,” Rome declared, hefting the oversized mallet like it weighed nothing.

Mok leaned against the side, arms crossed, already amused.

Rome swung. Hard. The machine creaked ominously. The bell didn’t just ring— it practically shattered, sparks flying in a tiny harmless shower. The entire machine groaned and powered down, lights flickering out.

“Oh no,” a staff member’s voice sounded from nearby, stunned.

Rome blinked, sheepish but still grinning. “I think I broke it.”

Mok burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Rome! You’ve got to pay for that.”

“Fine,” Rome said dramatically, reaching for his wallet. 

He handed the staff his business card with a smirk. “Call this number— my assistant will cover the damages. Triple.”

Mok wiped tears from laughing eyes. “God.”

They moved on to the gun games, where Mok took aim with surprising focus. After a few steady shots, he won a set of plushie headbands— one shaped like a dog eats, the other with little cat ears. Grinning, he handed the puppy headband to Rome.

“For you,” Mok said, watching Rome’s rare smile soften.

Rome slipped it on with ease, his usual calm mixed with a hint of playfulness beneath the weight of his mafia aura. 

They both laughed, the soft moment breaking through the chaos around them.

The night was a string of sweet, silly moments. Mok tried his best not to laugh too loud at Rome’s exaggerated screams on the roller coaster— high-pitched yells that echoed with pure joy. Sometimes Mok wondered if Rome was faking it just so he could cling to him tighter in the dark twists and turns.

The guards assigned to them followed discreetly, expertly blending into crowds— posing as families, couples, even ice-cream vendors. They never interrupted or hovered too close, letting the boys have their night.

Rome squeezed Mok’s hand once or twice, as if to remind him— here, now, he was safe and wanted.

Eventually, they found themselves climbing into the Ferris wheel, their seats rising slowly above the glittering park below.

While it’s going, the world fell away into a calm, quiet bubble. Below them, the swirling lights and laughter looked like stars scattered across the earth.

Rome rested his head on Mok’s shoulder, voice soft and warm against the night air.

“Rome,” Mok began, hesitant but sincere, “thank you. For today… for everything.”

He drew a slow breath, feeling his chest tighten with emotions he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

“I never thought I’d get to enjoy a night like this. To be somewhere fun without scanning every corner for danger. To feel like I’m allowed to just… exist.”

His fingers found Rome’s hand, squeezing lightly.

“I didn’t know I could still feel human.”

Rome smiled against his skin— a soft press of lips to his temple, then another gentle one to his forehead. Like he was sealing every insecurity away.

“Me too,” Rome whispered. “You do that to me.”

He shifted so their eyes met— close and steady, filled with a kind of affection that made Mok’s chest ache.

“You make me feel like I’m more than my family name,” Rome murmured. “More than the power I inherited or the image I have to keep. Tonight… I got to be just Rome. Laughing too loud. Screaming on rides. Eating snacks.”

Mok let out a quiet breath, half laugh, half overwhelmed.

Rome lifted their joined hands, threading their fingers fully together.

“And we still have six days,” he said, excitement flickering through his voice like sparkles in the dark. “Six days of things you’ve never gotten to do.”

Mok blinked, curious.

Rome’s eyes brightened.

“We’ll watch a movie in a real theater. Go hiking somewhere beautiful. Try cafés where you don’t have to sit facing the exits. Maybe a beach… maybe more.”

His smile softened into something almost shy.

“We’re going to collect memories you never had the chance to make.”

Mok’s heart kicked hard— warmth blooming so fast he could barely breathe.

“I’ve waited so long for this… for us,” Rome continued, thumb brushing the back of Mok’s knuckles. “And I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”

Mok swallowed the tightness in his throat, voice trembling as he whispered back—

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Rome’s smile deepened, fierce and gentle all at once, as if he was promising a future with it.

“I’ll keep waiting,” he said quietly. “However long you need.”

Mok lifted his eyes to meet Rome’s gaze, the soft glow of the city lights casting shadows that danced across Rome’s face. 

Their eyes locked, the world around them fading into quiet stillness. There was something unspoken there— a deep, unshakable connection that neither time nor distance could break.

Rome’s smile was gentle, as if Mok himself was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Then suddenly— the Ferris wheel gave a slow, creaking lurch and came to a stop at the very top. 

FIZZ. CRACKLE.

BOOM.

The night sky exploded with color.

Fireworks.

It kept bursting in brilliant reds, blues, and golds, painting the darkness with fleeting light and magic.

Mok’s breath stopped. 

He turned his gaze upward, awe lighting his eyes as the fireworks bloomed like stars.

But Rome? He didn’t look up at all.

Instead, his eyes never left Mok.

There, in the shimmer of the fireworks, Rome’s expression softened to something utterly adoring, almost like he was memorizing every detail of Mok’s face— the small gape of his heart-shaped lips, the way his eyelashes caught the light, the quiet way he breathed it all in.

Rome caught himself smiling, the heat settling deep inside his chest.

“Rome,” Mok looked at him and said quietly, voice full of warmth, “you should look at the fireworks. They’re so pretty.”

Rome’s smile widened. 

“I am,” he murmured, voice thick with something almost shy. “I’m watching… through your eyes.”

He paused, brushing a thumb lightly over Mok’s hand.

“And it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You are.” He continued.

They stayed like that for a long moment—eyes locked, breaths mingling in the close space between them. Then Rome tilted his head toward the sky.

“Look.”

Mok followed his gaze just as the fireworks shifted, bursting into bright, glowing letters that floated against the night: 

ROME … LOVES … MOK

I MISSED YOU

Mok blinked, a laugh bubbling up despite himself. Of course Rome Arseni would pull something this ridiculous. The absurdity made his chest ache with happiness.

And then, as more sparkles faded into the sky, a new message appeared, flickering in golden light, slower this time:

Can I … be your … boyfriend?

Mok’s breath caught so hard he thought his heart might stop. 

The words were simple, but after years of being “something in between”, years filled with stolen looks, quiet confessions that never quite crossed the line, moments heavy with what-ifs— this was everything.

He looked back at Rome, who was suddenly vulnerable in the way only the bravest can be. His eyes were bright, full of nervous hope, lips twitching in a small, excited smile.

Rome was waiting, holding his breath.

Mok’s smile softened, warm and certain. His fingers tightened around Rome’s hand.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice steady but full of all the feelings he’d kept locked away for so long.

Rome’s smile bloomed, and before either of them could think twice, they fell into a tight embrace.

He instantly buried his face in the curve of Mok’s neck, his breath soft and shaky as he murmured, “I love you… I love you…” over and over, like a prayer, like a truth finally freed.

Mok’s hands moved instinctively, nudging Rome gently to look up at him. 

He cupped Rome’s cheeks with tender strength, fingers brushing away the faintest shimmer of tears in those dark, earnest eyes.

“I love you too,” Mok whispered back, his voice steady but heavy with feeling.

He was smiling as he leaned in.

Their breaths mingled, hearts pounding in perfect rhythm as Mok closed the last bit of space between them, pressing his lips softly to Rome’s in a kiss that was everything— gentle, tender, full of years of waiting and hope and quiet promises.

It was a kiss that said, we made it, and I’m here, and this is real.

Under the sparkling night sky, with the world hushed around them, they held each other close— finally, completely, and perfectly together.

—

The door had barely clicked shut before Rome’s lips were on him again.

There was no hesitation— Rome leaned in, capturing Mok’s mouth with a kiss that was deep, hungry with all the feelings he had  for years. 

One of Rome’s hands slid to the back of Mok’s neck, fingers curling into his hair as if he needed to keep him close. The other hand found his waist, firm and sure, drawing him flush against his body.

Mok’s breath hitched at the closeness.

Rome’s warmth… the strength of his arms… the way he kissed like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment— it all made Mok’s heart race. 

Rome’s hands roamed gently but with purpose, mapping every inch he could reach— up his spine, along his shoulder blades, across the curve of his jaw as if reassured that Mok was real, right here.

And Mok kissed him back because he wanted this, wanted him.

But the rush of desire tangled with the old fear still buried inside him.

Rome’s touch slid to his side, fingers brushing the faint scars beneath his shirt— scars from training, fights, missions, marks of what Mok had survived. 

Instead of pride, insecurity struck him like a cold wave. He tensed without meaning to.

He’s not the same Mok Rome had once fell in love with. 

He wasn’t small anymore. He wasn’t smooth-skinned or soft. His body had been shaped by battles and discipline— broader, heavier, marked.

Would Rome still want him when he saw all of it?

Rome pulled back just slightly, just enough to see Mok’s eyes. His thumb traced slow, soothing patterns at the base of Mok’s neck, grounding him.

Mok swallowed, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, the worry loud in his head even as Rome held him like he was something precious. Because he loved Rome. He wanted Rome. But wanting didn’t silence the fear that one day, Rome might look at him differently.

And Rome felt the shift immediately— how Mok’s body, so eager a second ago, suddenly held itself tight. His hand, once caressing, now stilled on Mok’s waist. He leaned back just enough to see his face.

“Mok,” he breathed, gentle but alert. “Hey… are you okay?”

Mok didn’t answer. His eyes dropped to the floor, shoulders curling inward as if he wanted to disappear into himself. Rome tilted his head, trying to catch his gaze, but Mok looked everywhere else— anywhere but at him.

“Baby,” Rome teased softly, like a word he’d been dying to say for years. It was light, meant to pull a smile out of him.

Instead, Mok froze.

Rome’s playful expression softened instantly. He slid the hand from Mok’s neck up to his jaw, fingers warm as they guided his face up— slow, steady, no pressure. Just an invitation.

“Mok,” he tried again, voice quieter. “Look at me.”

And Mok did.

His eyes were sad. Raw. Like he was carrying a hurt he didn’t know how to name.

Rome’s chest tightened.

“You can tell me anything,” he whispered. “Always. Nothing you say will push me away.”

Mok’s throat worked as he tried to swallow what felt too heavy to speak. His lips trembled when he finally opened them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, voice cracking at the edge. 

“Of me?”

“Not of you. Never.”

Rome’s thumb brushed his cheek, urging him to go on.

“I just…” Mok inhaled sharply. “I’m not small anymore.”

Rome blinked— confused, then suddenly understanding.

“I’m bigger now,” Mok whispered, shame thick in his words. “Not soft like before. I have scars. My skin isn’t… it isn’t nice. I don’t fit in your arms the way I used to. You’ll see everything and maybe you’ll think—”

His voice broke completely.

“That I’m not good enough for you anymore.”

Silence.

Heavy. Fragile.

The kind that could shatter a heart with the slightest wrong move.

Rome’s brows drew together, pain flickering through his eyes not directed at Mok, but at the thought that Mok had ever felt this way alone.

He cupped Mok’s face more fully, thumbs brushing away the threat of tears.

“Mok…” he breathed, like his name was sacred. “Is that truly what you think I’ll feel?”

Mok didn’t trust his voice, so he only nodded.

Rome shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving his.

He didn’t let go of Mok’s face— not for a second. He leaned in, pressing one soft kiss to Mok’s temple before he spoke again, voice steady and certain.

“Come with me,” he murmured.

He guided Mok gently, their fingers intertwined, until they stood before a tall mirror beside the bed. Rome moved behind him, close enough that Mok could feel every breath against his back. 

Their reflections stared back— Rome holding him like he was something precious.

“Look,” Rome whispered.

Mok’s eyes flickered downward— not wanting to see but Rome’s hands came up, warming his cheeks, urging his gaze forward again.

“Start here,” Rome said softly, thumbs brushing under Mok’s eyes. 

“These eyes… I think they’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. They look at people like they matter. They look at me like I’m more than a stupid mafia son.”

His fingers traced the slight angle of Mok’s jaw next.

“And this jaw? Strong. Sharp. Better than any model.”

Then his thumb traced the shape of Mok’s lower lip, slow, reverent.

“And these… I’ve dreamed about these since I was sixteen.”

Mok’s breath stuttered. Rome’s eyes— reflected in the mirror, were dark with admiration.

Rome’s hands lowered, sliding to Mok’s waist, palms fitting like they were made for that exact spot.

“You said you don’t fit in my arms anymore,” he whispered into Mok’s ear. “But look.”

He pressed forward, letting Mok feel the solid hold around him.

“You fit perfectly. Here.” His fingers tightened just enough for Mok to feel the certainty in his grip. “Right where you belong.”

Then slowly, painfully slow, Rome slid his hands under the hem of Mok’s shirt. Mok froze, breath caught somewhere in his throat, but Rome waited… giving him time to stop him.

Mok didn’t.

Rome lifted the fabric only halfway, exposing the stretch of warm skin along Mok’s sides and stomach. His palms smoothed over the curves there— gentle, appreciative.

“This?” Rome murmured. “This is strength. This is life. This is the body that protected P’Kian, my brother, my family. The body that survived. The body I get to love.”

His fingers traced scars— not with pity, but with awe.

“These marks tell a story,” Rome whispered, pressing a soft kiss just below Mok’s ear. “A story that ends with you, right here… with me.”

Mok’s eyes blurred slightly, but he didn’t look away.

Rome rested his chin on Mok’s shoulder, their reflections fused— two silhouettes made to fit.

“Don’t you see it?” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You’re not the boy I left. You’re a man now. Beautiful. Strong. Mine.”

Rome slid one hand up, over Mok’s ribs, higher— caressing the line of his chest beneath the shirt, while the other stayed firm on his waist, grounding him.

“You are perfection to me, Mok. Every inch.”

He tilted his head just enough so Mok could see his expression clearly in the mirror.

“And I will spend every day convincing you of that… until you believe it too.”

Mok swallowed hard, watching their reflections— Rome behind him, loving him so openly he didn’t know how he’d ever doubted it.

Then Mok made a choice.

He turned around slowly, Rome’s hands sliding off his skin only because they had to. Rome blinked, surprised, his eyes already glossy, breathing soft and uneven.

Mok lifted a hand, removed his glasses and curled his fingers into the collar of Rome’s shirt, tugging him just a little closer. Rome let out the smallest sound— a hitched breath like Mok’s touch alone could undo him.

And then Mok kissed him.

It wasn’t shy. It wasn’t hesitant. It was deep, warm, and claiming.

Mok tilted his head, sealing their mouths together like he’d wanted to for years without permission. He parted his lips, letting their tongues brush, and Rome’s whole body reacted, a quiet smile blooming against Mok’s mouth like he’d been waiting for that exact moment.

Rome kissed back hard, hands sliding beneath Mok’s shirt again— exploring the skin he now knew was finally his to touch. His palms traveled upward, mapping muscle and warmth, like he wanted to memorize everything by touch alone.

Mok’s fingers threaded into Rome’s hair, pulling him even closer, and Rome let out the softest, breathless laugh into the kiss— he was so happy he couldn’t hide it.

They moved without thinking, steps tangled, too busy kissing, breathing, wanting—

Until Rome’s hip bumped into a table behind them.

There was a loud thud, followed by a crash and the unmistakable sound of something spilling across the floor.

They froze.

Mok blinked. Rome did too.

Then Mok looked down.

Scattered across the carpet… six boxes of condoms.

Not just packs. But boxes.

Mok stared. Rome stared.

Silence.

Then Rome cleared his throat, cheeks flushing faintly as he tried to casually nudge one box under the table with his foot— failing miserably.

“So,” he said, trying for cool and landing somewhere between embarrassed and proud, “I might have… come prepared.”

Mok’s ears turned bright red. Rome’s grin slowly returned, smug and hopelessly in love.

“Seven days is long…” he shrugged lightly.

“And I’m a very optimistic man.”

Mok covered his face with one hand— a laugh escaping before he could stop it. Rome pulled his hand away gently, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“That wasn’t too much, right?” Rome asked, almost shy beneath the bravado.

Mok shook his head, still flustered, still smiling, and whispered— voice warm and low.

“Are you trying to get me pregnant, Rome?”

“Should we try?”

Notes:

How was it? I’m a bit unsure about some details since it’s been a while since I last read the novel😭 All I can say is— I’m so excited for the next episode! WilliamEst is going to completely eat RomeMok up. Thank you so much for being here and reading :)

love, ash.