Archive of Our Own ^beta

Han Yoojin always had control; he always knew it. Han Yoohyun was no match for him when it came to orders. Han Yoojin would look at Yoohyun with those puppy eyes, and Yoohyun would always comply, and Han Yoojin always felt like he was the man of the house.

At least before the dungeons, before the awakenings, before the regression. Now, he could be more than a mere toy to play with. A little doll made to entertain and amuse its owner—that being Yoojin's sole purpose.

The ankle chain hooked on Yoojin's ankle was clanking around the floor as Yoojin walked around the apartment; he felt disgusted as he stared at the ankle chain, adorned with magic stones and trinkets made to protect and keep its owner safe. Something Han Yoojin didn't need.

Dressed in nothing but an oversized tee, most likely borrowed from Yoohyun, and shorts. The ever-so-pathetic Han Yoojin sat down on the island kitchen counter, several guards standing by, from the exit of the apartment to random stationary places Yoohyun had placed them in if ever Yoojin were to escape.

A chef placed down pancakes glazed with syrup and blueberries, his favorite, as stated by Yoohyun, but Yoojin's actual favorite breakfast food was French toast, something he made before the dungeons to satiate his hunger, even if his version of French toast was cheap.

The plate shined in front of him; Yoojin felt repulsed. He wanted to skip breakfast, but that would result in Yoohyun personally coming back to the apartment and spoon-feeding him. Because every move Yoojin made, each movement in this house, was documented. It was recorded; there are several record books containing every single movement Han Yoojin made ever since he was confined. There is always someone watching him; he wasn't alone, but it felt like he was.

Yoojin didn't bother to say thank you, and the chef remained silent. Yoojin picked up the utensils and began to eat, the only sound being the clinks and clanks of the utensils and chewing. Yoojin stomached the urge to throw up, his collar rubbing against his Adam's apple uncomfortably, to the point it left some sort of scratch.

After finishing that awful meal, Yoojin stood up and left, locking himself in the bedroom. No one bothered to try and stop him, because it would result in the same thing. Touching anything that was Yoohyuns resulted in death; everyone is aware of that fact. No one in Korea isn't aware that the Haeyeon guild master is very fond of his brother, to the point of imprisoning him.

Yoojin shuts the door, slumps against it, and looks over to the one thing keeping him inside this house. The chain sits idly, glimmering and shining brightly; Yoojin can't bear to see it. When did Yoohyun turn out this way? Yoojin never raised Yoohyun like this; what has gotten inside his head? That is something Yoojin will never know nor find out about.

Hours pass by; Yoojin checks the time on the clock, and it's 9:38PM. Yoohyun should come home in around 30 minutes or so. Yoojin wonders how Peace is doing. After Yoojin's imprisonment, Yoohyun took Peace with him, and Yoojin never got to see that fluffy little ball again. Only when he watches the news on the TV can he see Peace; Yoohyun is on the screen—he always is. With Peace in tow, they had just come out of an S-rank dungeon. News reporters surrounded the majestic pair as Haeyeon guild members tried to distance themselves. Only then, when Yoohyun looked up, did the news reporters stray away from Yoohyun, scared of his presence.

The liveliness died down after that, replaced with Yoohyun's usual gloominess and hard-to-interact demeanor. Yoojin shut off the TV with the remote and threw it across the room; he didn't care where. Yoojin sat there, in the dark, legs crossed, and mind full of thoughts when a familiar sound of the front door opening filled his senses.

Yoojin froze. Yoohyun's back; he's back. No, this can't be. Yoojin checked the time, and it was 9:45PM. Why did Yoohyun come home this early? Usually it would take a bit longer to fend off the curious reporters and drive home.

Then the door to their shared room opened. Yoohyun stood there in all his glory, head down and fists clenched. Yoojin immediately stood, walking over to his younger brother. Yoohyun enveloped Yoojin in a tight hug, Yoohyun's big stature completely overpowering Yoojin's small one.

Yoohyun picked Han Yoojin up, and Yoohyun placed the boy on the bed. Yoojin looked down as he saw Yoohyun kneeling before him. Yoohyun always washed Yoojin's feet before going to bed; it was a part of their routine. Yoojin looks down at Yoohyun with a grim look on his face, yet he enjoys Yoohyun's warm fingers pressing against his tendons as Yoohyun's free hand reaches for the basin to wash his feet.

Yoohyun, without speaking a single word, tenderly massages and washes Yoojin's toes thoroughly, even though every single part of Yoojin's body is already pristine. It's as though Yoohyun serves Yoojin, despite it being quite the opposite; maybe it's the love Yoohyun never got. Yoojin thought what he gave to Yoohyun was enough, but maybe that was just an appetizer for Yoohyun, a tiny snack before the gourmet meal. Which was Yoojin in his entirety.

Both of them sit in silence as Yoojin looks and lifts Yoohyuns chin up, Yoohyun staring back and giving a warm, tender smile. It broke Yoojin's heart. How could he hate something so loveable? Someone filled with so much love, with so much—cruelty.

Han Yoohyun is a monster, and Han Yoojin is nothing more than prey to savor until there's nothing left but bones. Every ounce and sliver of meat left of that prey will be devoured, and that same monster will never find a meal as good as Han Yoojin. 

After Yoohyun finishes washing both feet, he dries them off with a soft towel nearby the bedstand; his touch is soft and careful, as if Yoojin would break if he just pressed a little bit harder. Yoojin can feel the amount of restraint Yoohyun is putting in just to not hurt him. After all, he is nothing but a delicate, weak, and powerless F-rank who can't do anything without his S-rank older brother.

And when Yoojin's feet are washed and dried, Yoohyun puts the basin aside and removes the ankle chain that's been holding Yoojin all this time; he does this every night. Again, it's part of their routine; Yoohyun kisses his ankle softly, a small peck that feels like a thousand daggers nibbling onto his skin.

Yoohyun chuckled ever so softly, his voice deep but alluring. His voice ruled out the white noise in Yoojin's head, his voice soothing the bothered Yoojin. After Yoohyun got into bed, Yoojin tackled the man. Showering the attention-starved S-Rank with loads of affection, peppering his soft hair with small pecks and kisses.

Yoohyun revels in the attention of his hyung; 3 weeks without him was hell. The entire time he was with Peace, he was thinking of Han Yoojin. Every meal he ate, he thought if Han Yoojin ate today. Every single thought inside Yoohyuns head, beside the guild and work, is Han Yoojin.

"Yoojin, I love you." Yoohyun was a funny man. Is love about imprisoning the one you want to adore? Yoojin remembers that he is no more than entertainment and a show for Yoohyun.

Yoojin ignores it and gives one last kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Yoohyunie."