The scent of brewed coffee and something buttery hit Aster the moment he stirred awake.
He blinked up at the empty space beside him in the bed and rolled to his side, squinting at the warm light peeking through the curtains.
It was barely past seven. And Adrian was already up.
Again.
He sat up slowly—still a bit sore—and tugged on one of Adrian's hoodies draped over a chair before padding out into the hall. Adrian said he can, so he will.
The kitchen greeted him with soft clattering and the hiss of a pan.
Adrian, sleeves rolled up, shirt tucked into tailored slacks, was plating eggs and sausages with precise ease. The coffeemaker gurgled quietly in the background.
Aster leaned against the doorway.
"You're cooking again," he said, voice still scratchy with sleep.
Adrian glanced over his shoulder. "I like to eat well."
"I thought you were the type to survive off caffeine and spite."
"I've upgraded to protein and parental responsibility."
Aster huffed. "You're weird."
"And yet," Adrian said, pouring coffee into a second mug, "here you are. In my hoodie."
Before Aster could respond, a tiny yawn echoed from the hallway.
"Brother... where'd you go?"
Aster turned as Finn stumbled out of his room, hair a disaster, sockless, and still hugging his bunny plush like it was his life source.
"I'm here, baby shark."
Finn waddled over and clung to Aster's legs. "My belly's makin' the hungry song."
"Then come eat before your tummy starts singing opera."
Finn blinked up sleepily. "Opera's when people yell really fancy."
Adrian snorted softly as he set down the plates.
Breakfast was simple: eggs, rice, sausages, and a bowl of fruit. Nothing extravagant, but the kind of meal that made the kitchen feel warm.
And yet, a small awkwardness hung between Aster and Adrian as they sat at the island with Finn squishing rice between his fingers.
They hadn't spoken about it—the night in the master bedroom, the arm around his waist, the teasing words.
They'd only known each other for two days.
Technically, this was still a transaction.
A buy-out.
That thought twisted in Aster's gut a little.
He cleared his throat quietly as he sipped his coffee. "Um."
Adrian raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.
Aster hesitated before blurting softly, "Can I... start acting again?"
Adrian's fork paused mid-air.
"I mean," Aster went on quickly, "if it doesn't mess with your plans or—whatever you had in mind when we made this deal. I know I'm supposed to just... stay here, raise Finn, be part of this setup, but if there's space—if it's okay—"
"You're asking me for permission?" Adrian cut in, voice mild.
Aster flushed. "It's your house. Your choice. Your—everything."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Adrian leaned back in his chair and said casually, "Manager's ready."
Aster blinked. "Huh?"
"Assistant's on standby. There's a small entertainment company under my media group—they've been waiting for your greenlight."
"You—what?!"
Adrian sipped his coffee. "There's a starter contract drafted. Some scripts, some variety show offers. You'll pick what you want to try. No pressure."
Aster gaped. "You already arranged this?"
"I had a feeling you'd ask."
"That's not—You don't just do that for someone!"
"You're not 'someone.'"
Aster stared at him, mouth slightly open, until—
"Brother's gonna be on the TV!" Finn cheered mid-chew, throwing his arms up and knocking his spoon onto the floor.
"I didn't even start yet!" Aster groaned.
Finn grinned wide, mouth full. "Imma tell my class my brother's a shiny star!"
Adrian chuckled and picked up the fallen spoon. "And you'll be the cool kid at orientation."
Finn nodded proudly, then turned to Aster. "Can I be on the TV too?"
"You can come to set," Adrian said. "Eat all the snacks."
Finn gasped. "Wooooah. This is the bestest day ever."
Aster looked down at his coffee. His fingers were warm around the mug, but something else swelled in his chest. Quiet and unfamiliar.
Hope.
"...This is all a bit much," he whispered.
"You haven't even seen the nanny yet."
"The—?"
"She'll be here around ten. Background-checked. Has experience working with kids with trauma. You'll like her."
Aster stared. "Are you... trying to produce my entire life?"
Adrian's lips twitched. "Only the interesting parts."
Aster huffed and looked away—only for his ears to turn red when Adrian added with a soft murmur, "And I find all your parts interesting."
"Stop flirting," Aster grumbled.
Finn blinked. "What's flirting mean?"
Aster slammed his forehead on the table. "Never mind!"
By the time Adrian was fixing his tie and checking his phone, Finn had sprawled on the carpet in the living room with cartoons and a mouth full of strawberries.
Aster stood by the kitchen, watching him tie the last button.
"You're really going to work after all that?"
Adrian looked up. "CEOs don't get to nap."
"You made breakfast, arranged my career, hired a nanny, and flirted in front of a four-year-old."
Adrian stepped closer. "It's only Teusday."
Aster laughed under his breath.
Adrian leaned in. "Wait for your manager's call. He'll come by with the contract. Scripts are in the welcome folder."
"You really have a folder?"
"You're the one who asked."
Aster paused, then said, "Thank you."
Adrian's gaze softened. "You don't have to keep saying that."
"I want to."
Adrian didn't argue.
He gave one last pat on Aster's head—smirking at the small scowl it earned—then turned and walked out the door.
And Aster was left blinking in the quiet hum of the apartment, with Finn humming nonsense on the floor and the scent of breakfast still in the air.
It was only the second day.
But everything had already changed.