The gym smelled like sweat and steel. Fists thudded against leather in a rhythm that echoed like a heartbeat gone wild. Aiden Cole didn't need music — his world had always moved to the sound of impact.
He threw another punch. The heavy bag jolted under the force.
Another.
And another.
Until the voice behind him cut through.
"Is this… where I'm supposed to be?"
Aiden turned, hand still clenched. Standing by the doorway, oddly out of place in an oversized hoodie and a black face mask, was someone clearly not from this world. Pale skin. Hair dyed a soft lavender that peeked from under a cap. Fragile, almost too fragile — like a flower pressed into a book.
But his eyes… they met Aiden's with a strange kind of defiance wrapped in vulnerability.
The manager had said someone was coming in for "private stamina training." A celebrity. A client from Seoul here to build strength away from flashing cameras.
Aiden didn't ask for names.
He didn't care.
But he knew who he was looking at now.
Jaeon. The face all over billboards, fan chants, and magazine covers. One of the most idolized singers in Korea. The boy with the smile that made girls scream — and eyes that told another story entirely.
Aiden reached for his towel, wiping his neck without saying a word.
"You're late," he said, his Aussie accent thick and rough. "Start stretching."
Jaeon flinched at the tone, but he obeyed. Quietly dropping his bag, he moved to the mats like someone used to following orders — but not like this. This was different. This wasn't a stage, and Aiden wasn't a choreographer. The boxer didn't ask. He commanded.
As Jaeon bent forward, hands reaching toward his feet, the hoodie slipped off his shoulder slightly, revealing the curve of a smooth collarbone, the dip of his back. Aiden's eyes lingered for a second too long.
"You ever trained before?" he asked, voice low.
"Dance training. Gym. Not this." Jaeon looked up. "Not with someone like you."
Aiden raised an eyebrow. "Someone like me?"
Jaeon hesitated. "Someone who looks at me like I'm not made of glass."
A pause.
The boxer crossed the room, slow and steady. He stood behind him now, tall, broad, his presence wrapping around Jaeon like heat.
"You want me to treat you like you're breakable?" Aiden murmured.
Jaeon swallowed hard. "No."
"Good."
The silence between them crackled.
"Then we'll start with resistance," Aiden said. "I'll push. You push back. Don't hold back your breath. Don't hold back anything."
Jaeon nodded.
But inside, his chest was tight.
Because for the first time in a long time, someone saw through the makeup, through the masks, through the fame.
And he wasn't sure if he was ready for what that would unlock.