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Ron wasn't exactly happy with the latest two additions to the family, but since the Young Puppy Master had become a little more open about his problems and was more careful about his health when they were around, he decided not to comment.
It's just that... he was beginning to consider that it was time for the Henituse's eldest son to start waking up on his own.
Even an old and experienced assassin like him managed to feel like an intruder when he saw the intimate way the three men slept, the Young Master's posture showing how he was not used to being anything but the one in the middle, head bent inward from the embrace, snuggled against Sui Khan's neck, who also had his arm stretched out behind Cale, as if he had been hugging him during the night. Perhaps the worst was Choi Jung Soo, snuggled between the stomachs of the two, hands hidden by the blankets but legs clearly bent to get into bed.
The Molan could already feel his blood pressure rising at the thought that the Henituse really had no idea what he was doing (even if he doubted it from the lazily hidden marks on his neck), so he set the teacups down on the bedroom table and left.
When the butler closed the door, two pairs of bright eyes stared at the wood that separated the room from the rest of the villa, Choi Jung Soo didn't hate Ron or anything, but he could tell the way Cale's body tensed when he appeared and relaxed when he had moved some distance away, even though it was clear that his Dongsaeng trusted him.
Of course, he didn't jump to strange conclusions, Kim Rok Soo's life had always been riddled with abuse and threats, starting from an early age by the adults who were supposed to take care of him, followed through adulthood, now by hired assassins or those who decided to try their luck trying to kill one of Korea's most prominent team leaders.
The memory put him in a bad mood and he didn't even notice them squeezing the hand he had left on Cale's thigh until he heard the small whimper he made, he mumbled a quick apology as he placed a quick kiss on his bare stomach, soft warm skin against his lips reminding him that the only one who had managed to "take" his old life away from him had had to be a god.