The weight of my brother's body presses against me as I half-carry him up the stairs to our apartment. His expensive cologne mingles with the strong smell of alcohol on his breath—a nauseating combination of pretense and self-destruction. His feet drag against the worn carpet, and I struggle to maintain our balance.

"Mmm... so heavy..." he mutters against my neck, his warm breath sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. I hate that after all these years, he still has this effect on me.

"Almost there," I grunt, adjusting my grip around his waist. His arm drapes over my shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of my neck with each unsteady step.

I finally reach our door and fumble with the keys while supporting his dead weight. The lock clicks open, and I maneuver us both inside, kicking the door shut behind us. Without ceremony, I deposit him onto our shared bed, his body bouncing slightly on the mattress.

Zhuge Jin lies sprawled across the sheets, his expensive shirt wrinkled, tie loosened, and cheeks flushed from alcohol. Even in this undignified state, there's something undeniably beautiful about him—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, the identical features we share yet somehow look more refined on him.

He mumbles something unintelligible and shifts onto his side, his hand brushing his crotch in a way that wasn't accidental. My breath catches in my throat as desire pools low in my stomach.

Years of sacrifice flash through my mind—dropping out of school to work, watching him receive the education I never got, supporting him while he pretends to be better than me. He owes me. And tonight, I'm going to collect.