Juhoon, an introverted student, transfers to a new school in Canada. He enrolls at Saint Andrew's Boarding School with the goal of earning a scholarship-until he meets Martin, the school's one and only tyrant. There will be 18+ content; please consider carefully before reading. Remember, everything is fictional and created from imagination, with no intention of violating any idol's privacy !!!

In the high-stakes world of K-pop, where spotlights never dim and scandals can shatter careers, 18-year-old Martin and Juhoon navigate their hidden romance as members of the rising boy group CORTIS. Martin, the group's energetic powerhouse and workaholic leader, is a bundle of relentless drive-always pushing through grueling rehearsals, late-night songwriting sessions, and fan events with a smile that hides his deeper yearning. Clingy by nature, he craves the quiet intimacy of Juhoon's presence, addicted to the subtle scent of his skin after a long day, a mix of fresh soap and faint cologne that grounds him like nothing else. As the "top" in their dynamic, Martin protects and pursues, his broad, warm frame a constant source of comfort for his lover. Juhoon, equally 18 and the undisputed "princess" of CORTIS with his soft features, graceful stage presence, and effortless charm, finds solace in all things warm-steaming bowls of ramen after practice, cozy blankets on off-days, and especially Martin's huggable build. He adores how Martin's strong arms envelop him, making the chaos of idol life feel safe and small. Their love is fierce and unspoken to the world; Juhoon cherishes every stolen glance and whispered "I love you" in dimly lit practice rooms, but the secrecy weighs heavy-he's the bottom in their passionate encounters, yielding to Martin's tenderness while bottling up his devotion to avoid fueling rumors. Dubbed "Marhoon" by obsessive fans and even their bandmates-who playfully ship the duo without knowing the truth-the pair's bond simmers beneath the surface of group promotions and chart-climbing hits. In fleeting private moments, like late-night escapes to a hidden rooftop or a rented studio after hours, they collide with urgent affection: Martin's hands roaming possessively, Juhoon's sighs melting into quiet pleas, their bodies a temporary refuge from the spotlight.

Martin hates Juhoon. But hate turns into watching. Watching turns into wanting. And wanting turns into something Martin can't control. Now debut is two months away, and Martin has to choose: the dream he's chased for seven years, or the boy he was never supposed to love. Or maybe- just maybe- he can have both.

Best ranking: 🥇= stalkers 🥈= marhoon And 67 for CORTIS Every late-night scroll through old fancams, every "accidental" lingering in the practice room hallway, every hidden playlist folder labeled with a single initial-J-he tells himself it's harmless. Just curiosity. Just admiration. Just the way his heart races when Kim Ju-hoon walks by without ever glancing his way... or so he thinks. Juhoon, meanwhile, has memorized the exact rhythm of Martin's footsteps echoing down the corridor. He knows which corner café Martin hits after long producing sessions, which oversized hoodie he throws on when he's doubting himself, which beats make him rap under his breath when he thinks no one's listening. The burner account he lurks from has a blank profile picture and zero posts-yet thousands of screenshots saved in a password-locked album on his phone. He tells himself he's just keeping an eye out. Observing. Protecting the leader. Nothing more. They orbit each other like twin black holes-silent, ravenous, unseen. Martin starts trailing Juhoon back to the dorm once a week, heart pounding under streetlights. Juhoon begins waiting in the shadowed corner of the parking garage just to catch Martin leaving the studio late. Neither knows the other is doing exactly the same thing. Until one rainy Seoul night the masks crack. A dropped phone clatters on wet pavement. A shared location ping neither should have access to. A whispered "I saw you" that sounds far too much like "I've always seen you." What starts as mutual obsession spirals into something darker, needier, dangerously intimate-late-night confrontations in empty practice rooms, possessive touches during late choreo runs, blurred lines between hunter and prey, love and madness. They're both stalkers. Both prey. And neither wants to stop. Because the most terrifying truth isn't that they're being watched... It's that they like it.