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Summary
Chan and Changbin lived in a different universe. Marble floors, chandeliers, the kind of quiet wealth that smelled like polished wood and imported coffee. He could picture it - one of those absurdly expensive French presses sitting on their counter, gleaming like it had never been touched.
And him? A twenty-something who forgot to eat unless someone forced food into his hands. A kid who lived off protein bars and scraps, who couldn’t even keep his own brakes from squealing.
What the hell would they ever want with someone like him?
OR: Jisung thinks he’s surviving on luck and overtime - until he learns Chan and Changbin have been loving him far longer, and far deeper, than he ever realized.