"You're up," the club manager's gruff voice echoed through the back corridor, jolting Offroad out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before plastering on a smile that didn't quite reach them. "Remember, this one's a VIP. High-rollers only, so keep it professional."

Offroad nodded, his heart racing as he approached the velvet-curtained booth. He could see the silhouettes of Mr. Chai figures through the fabric, his shadow moving in a way that made his stomach churn. This wasn't the first time he'd been sent to entertain a VIP, but it never got easier. He felt like a prize to be claimed, a toy to be played with.

Daou's footsteps grew louder as he approached the club, his gut clenching with each step. He'd had enough of Offroad's dangerous games, enough of the secrets and the lies. He was going to get answers tonight, no matter what it took.

The moment Offroad slipped through the curtain, Daou saw red. The rich man had his hands all over him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, and Offroad just sat there, unresponsive, like a ragdoll. Daou's fists clenched as he stormed towards the booth, not caring who saw him.

He threw open the curtains, his eyes wild with anger. The client looked up, surprised, but Offroad remained still, his eyes glazed over. "Get your hands off him," Daou snarled, his voice barely contained. The client sneered, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

Daou reached out and grabbed Offroad's wrist, pulling him to his feet. "We're leaving," he said firmly, his grip like steel.

The client laughed, a cold, malicious sound that sent shivers down Offroad's spine. "You think you can just take him?"

Daou slammed his hand onto the table, sending a stack of cash flying. "I can, and I will. And if I ever see you touch him again, you'll regret it."

The client's smile faded, his eyes narrowing as he took in the seriousness of the threat. Offroad felt a strange mix of fear and relief, the latter of which grew stronger as he was yanked out of the booth.

Once outside, the cool night air hit him like a slap in the face. He stumbled, trying to find his footing as Daou's hand tightened around his wrist. "What the hell was that?" he spat, his voice trembling with rage.

Daou didn't respond, his eyes searching Offroad's face for something, anything that would explain the hollowness he'd seen in those eyes.

"I said, what the fuck was that?" Offroad shouted, yanking his arm free.

Daou stepped closer, his own eyes blazing with a fierce determination. "That was me taking back what's mine."

Offroad's laugh was brittle, a sad echo of his usual carefree self. "What makes you think you can own me?"

Daou's gaze was unwavering. "Because you're worth more than this shit. Because you're worth fighting for."

The words hung in the air, thick with the tension that had been building between them for weeks. Offroad felt his resolve crumbling, the walls he'd so carefully constructed around his heart starting to crack.

"Why do you care?" he whispered, the question barely audible above the thumping bass of the club's music.

Daou's response was simple, but it hit Offroad like a punch to the gut. "Because when I look at you, I see someone who's worth saving."

For a moment, Offroad just stood there, his eyes searching Daou's, looking for any sign of a lie, any hint of deceit. But all he found was raw, unfiltered honesty. And with that, the floodgates opened.

"I can't leave," he choked out. "They'll hurt her. They'll hurt my sister."

Daou's expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and pity. "Who's they?"

"The people I owe money to," Offroad replied, his voice shaking. "They said if I don't pay, they'll take her instead."

Daou's jaw clenched, his mind racing with thoughts of all the ways he could make those people suffer. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "But not like this. Not with you selling yourself to these monsters."

Offroad's eyes filled with tears, the weight of his situation finally too much to bear. "There's no way out," he murmured.

Daou's smile was grim. "Watch me," he said, his voice filled with a determination that made Offroad's heart race.

And as they stood there on the edge of the dark alley, the club's neon lights flickering around them, Offroad realized that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as trapped as he'd thought. Maybe there was a way out, and maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he'd always feared.

Daou's grip on his chin tightened, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "You're not going back in there."

Offroad's breath hitched in his throat. "But my sister—"

Daou cut him off. "I said, we'll figure it out." He leaned in, his breath warm against Offroad's cheek. "Trust me."

For a heart-stopping moment, Offroad didn't know what to do. He wanted to believe, wanted to trust, but fear had held him captive for so long, it was hard to let go. And then he saw it—the fierce protectiveness in Daou's eyes, the promise of a better future reflected in their depths.

He nodded, his voice shaking. "Okay."

Daou pulled him into a gentle embrace, and Offroad felt just how small he really was. His slender frame fit perfectly into the curve of Daou's body, like he was made to be held by his arms. It was a stark contrast to the men he'd been with before—men who used his size to their advantage, to make him feel weaker, more disposable.

Daou's hand was warm and firm on his back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Offroad allowed himself to lean into it. He could feel the steady beat of Daou's heart, a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating. The world outside the embrace felt far away, as if the alley and the club didn't exist at all.

But reality had a way of crashing in. The sound of a phone ringing broke the silence, and the club manager stepped out, glancing over at them before quickly looking away, his expression a mix of curiosity and wariness. The call was short, but the look on the manager's face when he hung up told them everything they needed to know.