Babysitting Mafia Is More Than Just Wearing a Bunny Suit

Babysitting is about being honest

It was past midnight, but the Yoons seemed to have a different kind of internal clock inside their body. Bosses should have enjoyed their ability to sleep during ungodly hours, but not the Yoons. For some reason, they liked to wake up when others were asleep, ignoring their boss's privilege.

But then again, the boss's privilege meant they could do whatever they wanted at whatever hour.

Like how Jay spent the past hour just watching Yoohan sleep.

Like a creep—yeah, he knew. He also knew that Yoohan would punch him if the man knew. And he also knew he would go crazy if he couldn't touch Yoohan again.

It was a weird urge he always had ever since he met Yoohan that hot summer night. He thought it was simply lust before, but lust did not explain the itch he had right now to stroke the soft flesh beneath Yoohan's eyes; eyes that were crying without tears. Lust did not explain the craving for Yoohan's soft breathing sound as the younger man slept, or the constant wandering if Yoohan eating well.

And Lust did not explain the sting in his heart when he heard the agonizing sounds Yoohan made when he let his heart out. The sting that felt as if his heart was being stabbed.

Jay took one last look before heading out to the bedroom gallery lounge to take a hard drink—that was the only way he could fall asleep these days. It was either that or staying awake.

That night, however, the chair he always used was already occupied by someone else.

"Pour me something," his mother was sitting casually in front of the fireplace, with an empty glass in her hand.

Jay rolled his eyes, but still snatched a bottle of whisky from the shelf and poured it into his mother's glass. The rest he down straight from the bottle.

For five minutes, the mother and son pair wordlessly sipped on their drink, as if they were just strangers at a bar. The mother's eyes, however, had been trained on her son all the time. "What do you want to do with Yoohanie?" she suddenly said, after feeling Jay had savored his drink enough.

His son, however, did not give any reply, just looking outside the window while rubbing the neck of the bottle in his hand.

His son, who always had the last say in anything.

Mari smirked, tilting her head while looking at her son through the crystal cup in her hand. "It's not like you to be hesitating."

Yes, it was definitely not like him; even Jay himself acknowledged it. His hesitation to take any step was so unlike him it was ridiculous. He had never thought seeing Yoohan seriously angry and hurt would affect him this much. So much that he was too confused and perhaps...too afraid to do anything about it.

But what did he want to do with Yoohan?

A cure for his frozen heart? An interesting toy? No. The fact that he cared so much for Yoohan, even more than his own mother or the whole family business, already told him that Yoohan was never a cure or a tool, not a toy or a pet.

Since when?

"I want him," Jay said in the end, his eyes were the mirror of the night winter sky.

"With how thing is now, it looks bleak," his mother remarked with nothing but a raw truth.

Jay stared at his mother through the reflection of the window. "Don't you want him to?"

"I do," Mari curled her lips. "But I don't need to do what you want to do to him," she shrugged, putting salt on Jay's invisible wound. "I can just bind him in a contractual agreement, giving him a job even if he has to be away from you."