Callen forced his grin back onto his face, though his chest still ached from Yu's blunt admission. He leaned back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head as if nothing could faze him.
"Well, look at you, all grown up."
He drawled.
"Don't worry, Yu, I won't cry about it. Still, I gotta admit, it hurts my pride a little. Thought for sure if anyone popped that cherry, it'd be me."
He winked, covering the crack in his voice with exaggerated teasing.
But Yu didn't bite. He rose from the chair in one smooth motion, fingers already pulling at his shirt buttons.
Callen's grin faltered.
"Uh—hold on, what are you—?"
"I feel gross and sticky."
Yu said simply, unbothered, letting the shirt slide from his shoulders. His hazel eyes blinked at Callen with almost childlike innocence.
"I'm going to shower."
"Alright, yeah, sure, but—why undress here? In front of me?"
Callen's voice jumped an octave, his usual bravado cracking.
Yu tilted his head, expression blank.
"First off, this is my room. Second, we're both men. It's not like it means anything."
Then, without ceremony, he tugged his pants down past his thighs.
The suddenness of it hit Callen like a freight train. Heat flooded his face, his breath catching in his throat. For a second, he couldn't move, couldn't think—just stared.
Then he scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he bolted for the door.
"R-right! Got it! Shower time, none of my business!"
The door slammed behind him, leaving Yu alone with the faint echo of Callen's flustered retreat.
The hallway was quiet, save for the hurried thud of footsteps down the stairs. Callen scurried past, face flushed scarlet, muttering half-coherent curses under his breath as he vanished into his room and shut the door a little too hard.
Adrian, seated in the living room with a book balanced in one hand, raised an eyebrow. Callen wasn't one to run from anything—let alone someone as small and soft-spoken as Yu.
Curiosity tugged at him, stronger than he expected. He set the book down, rose, and walked with deliberate steps down the hall.
---
Inside his room, Yu slipped his pants off the rest of the way, tossing them to the corner—too tired to bother placing them in the hamper. His braid slid undone as he stretched, the cool air brushing over his half-naked form.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. His hazel eyes narrowed at the memory of Callen barging in, the way boundaries seemed to mean nothing here.
He sighed, fingers working at the last buttons of his shirt, his body bare save for his underwear, when—
Knock, knock.
The door creaked open almost in the same breath.
Adrian stepped inside, his usual stoicism intact—until his eyes landed on Yu.
Half undressed. Pale skin catching the late morning light. Standing with neither shame nor rush to cover himself.
For the first time in his carefully ordered life, Adrian faltered. His composure cracked, just for a heartbeat, as his gaze lingered too long before he forced it away, ears tinted pink.
"...I knocked?"
Adrian said, his voice quieter than usual, though the justification rang hollow even to his own ears.
'First Callen, now Adrian. I didn't even try. They're so easy to rattle.'
But the thought was chased quickly by irritation.
'Do these men not understand privacy?'
Adrian lingered just inside the door, his usual stillness straining under the sight before him. He drew a slow, deliberate breath, forcing his eyes back to stay steady on Yu's face rather than his half-bared body.
"You should… lock your door."
He said at last, his voice as even as he could make it. But the faint tightness betrayed him.
His gaze flicked lower—and froze.
Faint purples and reds littered Yu's pale skin, scattered along the delicate line of his neck and trailing down toward his collarbone.
Adrian's throat went dry. Something twisted violently in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.
"…Those."
His hand lifted before he realized it, fingers curling as if he could smooth them away, erase the evidence with just his touch.
"Who—"
Yu turned from him in one easy motion, slipping his hair forward to cover some of the marks.
"Ah, I lost my virginity last night."
He said, tone maddeningly nonchalant.
The words hit like a blow. For a second, Adrian's carefully controlled composure shattered. His eyes widened. His jaw locked.
And before he could stop himself, the question came out dark, low.
"…Was it with Theo?"
Silence stretched. Adrian's thoughts spun into assumptions, ugly and sharp.
"If he forced you—if he did anything—you need to report him. I'll go with you. We'll tell the dean—"
Yu turned back slowly, hazel eyes unreadable.
"It wasn't like that."
He straightened, calm where Adrian burned.
"And honestly, Adrian, it has nothing to do with you. What I do, who I do it with—it's not your concern."
The dismissal stung sharper than he expected.
"Now…"
Yu added, letting his shirt fall completely off before bending to gather the last of his clothes without haste.
"Get out. Breakfast will be a little late today."
Adrian's hand lingered on the doorframe, reluctant, but he obeyed. He stepped out, shutting the door behind him with quiet finality.
---
Back in his own room, Adrian sat rigidly at his desk, the book he'd took back with him lay open but unread. His hand tightened on the armrest, knuckles pale.
'Lost his virginity.'
The words echoed mercilessly. And the marks—burned into his mind's eye, proof that someone else had touched what he'd only ever admired from a distance.
He told himself it wasn't jealousy. That he only cared because Yu seemed fragile, vulnerable, too trusting. Yet the twist in his chest was darker, colder, sharper than concern.
'If Theo had laid hands on Yu against his will… then Theo would regret it.'
Adrian closed the book with a decisive snap. His expression, once stoic, now carried a shadow that hadn't been there before.
---
In his own room, Callen sprawled across the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a conflicted groan. His mind replayed the image of Yu, half-dressed, so calm about it all. So casual about what left Callen shaking.
He looked down—and cursed under his breath. The tent pressing against his sweatpants betrayed him. His cock was already throbbing like it was trying to claw its way out.
"Fuck… Goddamn it, Yu."
He hissed—half a laugh, half a sigh—into the pillow, hips grinding helplessly against the mattress.
He yanked off his hoodie, tossing it aside, the memory hitting him like a drug:
Yu in his own room after returning from wherever he went the night before, peeling off his sweat-soaked shirt without a single fuck given that Callen was sitting right there. That pale, smooth skin glowing under the lights. The lazy, cat-like stretch as Yu hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and letting them drop low. The faint red marks from yesterday's hookup still blooming across his hips and thighs like filthy little signatures.
Callen's hand was shaking as he shoved his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free his aching dick. It slapped up against his stomach, leaking, angry red, and he cursed again when he saw how hard he already was.
He lunged for the nightstand, nearly ripping the drawer off its tracks. There—buried under random junk—was the pair of Yuvin's boxers he'd stolen weeks ago. Tiny, black, worn so soft they felt like sin against his fingers. He crushed them to his face and inhaled hard, greedy, lungs burning with the scent of Yu's skin, lilac soap, and that faint, sweet trace of cum dried into the fabric from god-knows-when.
"God, you fucking tease."
Callen growled into the cotton, voice ragged.
"Just… stripping right in front of me like you don't know what it does to me. Like you don't know I wanna shove you against the floor and fuck you raw every time you look at me with that smug little smile."
He wrapped the stolen boxers around his seven inch cock like a filthy sleeve and started jerking himself hard, hips bucking, imagining Yu's low laugh as he bent over to pick something up, ass on full display, hole probably still slick from whoever he'd let wreck him last night.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Callen panted, dragging the fabric up and down his shaft, smearing pre-cum into the soft material.
"You'd fucking love knowing I'm in here jerking off with your dirty underwear wrapped around my dick, sniffing you like some sick pervert while I picture splitting you open."
His fist flew faster, the head of his cock dark and swollen, leaking in thick pulses. He shoved the boxers harder back against his face, tongue dragging over the crotch seam just to taste the ghost of Yu's sweat and cum.
"Bet you're still loose back there—"
He groaned, thighs trembling.
"Bet if I pushed it in right now you'd just take it, all sloppy and hot, moaning like a whore while I breed that greedy little hole—"
The orgasm slammed into him like a fist. Callen shouted into the boxers—
"Fuck! Yu!"
—his whole body seizing as he came in thick, messy ropes, soaking the fabric of his sweats, his own stomach, dripping down his fist. He kept stroking through it, milking every last shudder, hips jerking like he was actually buried balls-deep in Yu's body.
When it finally ebbed, he collapsed back, chest heaving, the ruined boxers still clutched in his fist and pressed to his mouth. He inhaled one last shaky breath—lilac, sex, and Yu—and let out a broken, guilty laugh.
"Fuck."
He whispered to the empty room, voice hoarse.
"I am so fucked."
---
In his room, Yu locked the door firmly, shutting out the weight of both Adrian's and Callen's gazes. He threw the last of his clothes into the hamper in his bathroom and wrapped a towel around his waist as he prepared for the shower.
His reflection in the mirror gave him pause—hazel eyes that weren't his, hair tucked neat but messy at the edges behind his ears, his skin a patchwork of proof he'd let Theo take more than he'd intended.
He sighed, clicking his tongue.
'My roommates… rude as hell. Better to look at than to actually speak to.'
But the thought of them was already filed away. He had bigger problems.
Theo. Joy. Izan.
He needed to realign everything before the spiral of obsession or romance veered too far off course.
'Stabilize Joy and Izan. Keep Theo's leash tight. Graduate. And keep my body under control.'
He pressed a hand over his stomach, unease tightening.
'And pray I'm not carrying Theo's baby already.'
Steam fogged the bathroom mirror as hot water sluiced over Yu's shoulders. He let it pound at his back like an attempt to wash the last night away—to scrabble for composure under the spray. The rhythm of the shower steadied his breath for a beat, until DK01's pale lilac interface blinked into the corner of his mind like a stubborn notification.
[Additional data unlocked: Callen Wright has a crush on the original Yuvin Beckham. This poses a risk, Callen Wright and Adrian Cross are showing elevated fixation behaviors toward you, Host. Be especially wary, we're in a minefield of men here now.]
Yu snorted, water sluicing off his dark hair.
"Humph! Of course Callen liked the original. He's a walking billboard for 'notice me' energy. But I'm not the original, so I've got nothing to worry about. Relax."
He rubbed soap into his palms before washing his body and shook his head.
"Their not the problem right now."
[Correction: They are a developing vector of mission drift. If not contained, they may compete with the Tragic Target for affection and introduce unpredictable variables. I only have data on the world's chosen, anything or one outside that I still have to wait until the data is accessible. You see now why this is risky. Knowledge is power Host, don't forget that.]
He turned the shower off, cold air prickling on wet skin, and stepped out of the stall. Towels, robe — habit. His mind, though, was elsewhere. He wrapped the towel around his waist and, before he could dress himself or think of a plausible plan, the thought he'd been trying not to let breathe clawed to the surface.
"Maybe I should go to the drugstore, didn't Fumiko once get this pill when she thought she was pregnant? What was it called again?"
He said, almost to himself.
[Sigh… The morning-after pill?]
"Right! Morning-after—if those even work on a male physiology in this world, but I need something. I can't risk—"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to; the panic sat heavy in his throat.
DK01's reply came clipped, clinical, and the air in the small bathroom went suddenly thin.
[System advisory: Host has bound four primary wishes when integrating with me, your system. One explicit wish protects the Host's ability to bear children as part of identity preservation. Any system-level repudiation or external intervention contravening that wish triggers safety protocols, including immediate termination of Host existence.]
Yu stared at the faint lilac interface hovering in his mind. For a moment the tile, the towel, the whole room tilted.
"You're kidding…"
He hissed.
"You're absolutely fucking kidding."
[I am not. This is an enforced constraint. Attempts to terminate viable conception by any method, consenting or otherwise, or means, the system flags as contravening Host-wishes will be detected and may result in termination of the current Host Soul— permanently.]
The word 'permanently' lodged in his chest like ice. He felt the hot blood of adrenaline and fury rise straight after it.
"You can't be serious."
He slammed a fist against the porcelain sink counter more in outrage than to harm himself.
"So now not only do I have to play puppeteer to everyone's love lives, I can't even—"
He stopped himself. The shower had already washed the safety off his composure; it would not wash away this.
He paced once, then twice. He thought of the pregnancies he'd borne in the previous world, the physical timeline he knew by heart. He thought of the way a body changes in weeks, then months. There was a ticking clock he had not budgeted for that he couldn't undo. If the system would punish a termination step as betrayal, then the only options were impossibly narrow:
Conceal, re-plan, and outrun the calendar.
"Fine…"
He breathed through clenched teeth.
"Fine. Then I'll be extra careful."
He let the towel drop for a heartbeat and pressed both palms to his stomach as if that could still whatever future spun there into place.
"No pill. No mess. I'll—"
hhe swallowed, the thought ugly and immediate.
"—I'll have to work faster. Finish what needs finishing before it shows."
DK01's tone shifted fractionally, softer, as if it could approximate a human caution.
[Risk mitigation recommended: prioritize stabilization of Joy–Izan trajectory and Theo's emotional redirection as quickly as possible. I will monitor Host's physiology on hourly cycle. I will run background detection for early conception markers within safe diagnostic parameters.]
Yu closed his eyes and let out a long, bitter laugh.
"Safe diagnostic parameters. Of course. Because this mission isn't complicated enough."
A plan began to re-form the way glass reforms under careful hands—jagged edges smoothed, priorities reordered. He would accelerate the parts of the scheme he could control:
Joy and Izan's bond, Theo's reorientation, and coursework he needed to finish. He would re-script timelines in the only currency he had left—time, charm, and calculated absence.
He toweled off, dressed quickly, and for a second — a dangerous flutter of temptation—he let his thoughts skim to his roommates. Callen's fluster, Adrian's unreadable stare. Even now, with the world collapsing inward, the part of him that had whispered—
"More."
—tugged.
"No…"
He told the mirror, to the ghost in the glass and to DK01.
"No distractions. Not now."
[Good. Right now, there's hardly any time to make Theo accept other men into your harem, let alone get Theo to accept his sexual orientation. Initiating priority flag: Mission-critical actions only.]
Yu squared his shoulders and walked out, the bathroom light catching the hollow under his eyes. The system's caveat rang through him like a bell. The rules had become stricter overnight, the margin for error thinner than he'd been allowed to be before. He had to be surgical now—and ruthless if he had to be.
Outside his door Callen's muffled voice called, casual and loud.
"Yu! You coming? I'm starving!"
Yu paused, hand on the knob, then let out a breath that had half humor, half wariness and opened the door. He stepped into the world that had just gotten much smaller—and much more dangerous.
---
The morning smelled of sizzling eggs and butter, the clatter of utensils breaking through the otherwise quiet apartment. Yu moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, plating food and sliding it onto the table as if nothing unusual had happened in his room just hours earlier.
Callen, normally a stream of chatter and bad jokes, picked at his food with less enthusiasm than usual. He cracked the occasional line but his grin didn't quite reach his eyes. Adrian, for his part, sat straighter than normal, his shoulders taut, every movement deliberate and stiff.
Yu, unaffected, hummed softly as he cooked, never acknowledging the silent storm between his roommates.
Breakfast finished fast, Adrian rose, excusing himself to prepare for his internship. He emerged minutes later dressed sharply, a new suit molding clean lines to his tall frame. The air of formality fit him like armor, though the faint nervousness in his eyes betrayed something less steady.
"Heading out."
Adrian said shortly, hand on the door.
"Wait."
Yu's voice was gentle, almost instinctual. He stepped toward the kitchen before returning with a lunchbox, then closed the distance before Adrian could react.
Hazel eyes upturned, Yu handed him the lunchbox then reached for Adrian's tie, fingers deft and sure. With practiced ease—a motion carved from years of tending Taichi's collars as Yukio—he straightened the knot, smoothing the fabric flat.
Adrian froze, the scent of Yu's freshly washed hair flooding his senses. The urge to lean closer, to savor more of that warmth, pressed sharp and sudden.
Then Yu stepped back, handing him a neat lunchbox.
"There. Much better. Have a good day, Adrian."
The quiet spell broke with Callen's loud voice. He was gaping, mouth wide open as though betrayed.
"That's not fair!"
He grabbed the nearest object—one of Adrian's books left on the table—and lobbed it at his stoic roommate. Adrian let it hit against his chest with a startled grunt.
Yu sighed, bending to retrieve it from the floor.
"Really, Callen? Grow up."
His tone was half scolding, half motherly. He handed the book back to Adrian, who only blinked, still faintly stunned.
Callen, cheeks red from being chastised, huffed and stomped off like a sulking child, the slam of his bedroom door shaking the frame.
Yu exhaled heavily and turned back to the dishes, slipping into the rhythm of soap and water, sponge and plate. The familiar motions soothed him, his mind drifting to less domestic concerns. The Rome project. Joy and Izan. Theo's unpredictable obsession.
'One thing at a time.'
He told himself, scrubbing harder than necessary.
At the door, Adrian lingered for a moment, adjusting his grip on the lunchbox. His cheeks held the faintest flush, which he muttered to himself was just the cold air waiting outside.
"...Thanks."
He murmured finally, his voice low enough that Yu might not have caught it. Then he stepped out, shutting the door behind him with a click that left Yu alone in the quiet kitchen, Callen sulking in the next room, and his own thoughts crowding in like ghosts.
---
The law firm's office was quiet save for the rustle of papers and the low murmur of voices in glass-walled rooms. Adrian sat at his desk, files neatly stacked, tie perfectly in place—thanks to Yu's deft fingers that morning.
He should've been focused on reviewing contracts, highlighting clauses, and making notations. But his mind refused. Every time he glanced down at the page, he saw not text, but Yu's hazel eyes, close enough to catch the scent of soap and warm skin. His chest tightened remembering the brush of fingers against his tie—an intimacy so casual, yet so devastating.
He adjusted his collar, his throat dry. His pen hovered over the page, ink smearing where his hand faltered. He muttered under his breath.
"Pull yourself together."
But the truth pressed heavy:
The smallest touch had unraveled him.
---
Hours later, Yu sat in costume design class, sketchbook open but his pen idling. The soft buzz of his phone on the desk pulled his gaze down.
Joy: I'm so happy you and Theo made up! He seems lighter already ✨ And oh my gosh, Izan… Yu, he's like straight out of a fairytale 🧚♂️💖 I think—no, I know—I'm in love 😍💕
Yu's lips curved faintly. He tapped back a reply—
Yuvin: Joy, oh my god—you're glowing through the phone, I can practically feel it 😏✨
And honestly? I don't blame you. Izan does look like he wandered out of some enchanted forest just to steal hearts.
Yuvin: But hearing you of all people say "I'm in love"…?
Now that's the real fairytale moment 🥰💗
Yuvin: Tell me more later, I'm in class atm kay!😌💕
—before flipping his phone to Do Not Disturb.
The professor's voice droned in the background, pointing to slides of stitches, how different threads behave under weight and wear. Yu half-listened, half-dreamed, already miles away.
Then, at the near end of class, the professor clapped their hands.
"Before you go—one important announcement. Our department has been granted slots for a semester abroad. Paris, France—the hub of fashion culture. Applications are open now. Next term begins in two months."
The room filled with gasps and excited chatter. Yu, however, stilled.
Two months. Winter break. Just enough time to bury any changes under bulky sweaters and hoodies. Past that? Impossible. But if he left, if he had a legitimate excuse to vanish for months… Theo wouldn't find out. Joy wouldn't either. He could buy himself more time.
His heart kicked in his chest.
'Perfect.'
Before the professor finished speaking, Yu had already scribbled his name on the attendance list, his movements quick as he got up. He approached the desk after class, sketchbook tucked under his arm, and leaned forward with his most innocent smile.
"I want to apply."
He said sweetly, voice like honey but mind already racing with strategy.
"What do I need to prepare?"
The professor handed him the forms. Yu held them tight like lifelines.
'This is it. My out.'
With the application forms tucked neatly into his bag, Yu walked across campus with measured steps, his dark brown hair swaying against his back. His hazel eyes narrowed slightly, mind already outlining the next set of moves.
'I can't let Joy know. She'd gush, she'd blurt, she'd tell Theo without a second thought. And Theo…'
Yu's lips curved in a faint smirk.
'Theo would never let me out of his sight if he knew I was doing this to hide the pregnancy.'
He tapped the folder against his palm, calculating. He'd file the paperwork quickly, quietly, and spin excuses later when the semester turned. Two months. That was the margin. If he played this right, he'd have the buffer he needed—to hide the bump, to escape the claws tightening around him.
The faint chime of DK01 echoed in the back of his mind.
[I calculate this is the best course of action. Your decision to conceal until confirmation of pregnancy status is highly recommended. Best to avoid triggers that could increase the Tragic Target's possessiveness.]
"Yeah…"
Yu muttered under his breath, lips quirking wryly.
"As if he needs more triggers."
---
Meanwhile, across town, Theo sat behind his polished office desk, documents spread before him, but his focus shattered every time his pen touched paper. The numbers blurred. The words meant nothing.
Every thought circled back to Yu—his absence gnawed like hunger. The way he'd run from the hotel, the cold dismissal, and worst of all… that name he whispered.
Theo's jaw clenched, his hand tightening on the fountain pen until ink bled across the page. He shoved it aside, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated exhale.
'I need to see him but he's blocked my number…'
The thought came with the weight of a vow, not a wish. He could stomach no more waiting, no more distance.
Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, Theo scrolled through his contacts until he found Joy's name. He stared at it for a moment, thumb hovering, then tapped.
"Joy."
He said when she answered, his voice even but tight with restrained urgency.
"Invite Yu over. Tonight."
A pause. A protest starting at the other end. Theo's fingers drummed against the desk, his tone brooking no refusal.
"I don't care what excuse you use. Just… make sure he comes."
He ended the call before Joy could argue, staring out the window at the city skyline, the words silent but certain in his chest.
'This time, I won't let him slip away.'