The night was unusually quiet in Seoul, the kind of quiet that felt like the calm before a storm. Goo Kim sat sprawled across the leather couch in Gun Park’s penthouse, a mischievous grin plastered across his face as he flipped through his phone. His golden hair caught the dim light, giving him an almost angelic glow—if not for the smirk that betrayed his true nature.

Gun stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, gazing out at the city skyline. His expression was as unreadable as ever, a mix of cold calculation and quiet intensity. The man rarely let his guard down, but tonight felt different. Goo could tell.

“Gun, you’re such a brooding statue sometimes,” Goo teased, tossing his phone onto the table. He leaned back, resting his head on his hands. “Come sit down before I get bored and start breaking stuff.”

Gun didn’t respond immediately, his sharp gaze still fixed on the city below. After a moment, he turned, his face as stoic as ever, though there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. Without a word, he walked over and sat beside Goo, his movements precise and controlled.

“Happy now?” Gun asked, his voice low and steady.

“Ecstatic,” Goo replied with a cheeky grin. He shifted closer, draping an arm over Gun’s shoulders. “You’re like a block of ice, you know that? Always so serious.”

Gun raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t push Goo away. “And you’re like a hyperactive child,” he countered. “Always loud.”

“That’s what makes us such a great team,” Goo quipped, leaning in slightly. “Your cold, broody self balances out my radiant charm.”

Gun rolled his eyes but allowed himself a faint smirk. Goo caught it, his grin widening triumphantly.

For all their differences—the chaos Goo thrived in and the discipline Gun embodied—they fit together in a way neither of them entirely understood. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. And in their world, that was more than enough.