“Cheers—!”
With raucous clinks, glasses met across the table. The one who toasted with Ha-jin’s reluctant expression was none other than Tae-seong. His eyes curved in a smile, but he didn’t so much as touch the rim of his lips to the swirling wine before setting the glass down.
Naturally, Cheon Han-jo—and nearly everyone else—turned their eyes toward him.
“I had a bad reaction to alcohol not long ago,” Tae-seong explained.
“What kind of reaction?”
Oddly enough, it was Ha-jin who looked more anxious, glancing around to gauge the room. Sure enough, Joo Yoon-seo was staring at them intensely, eyes wide as if asking what kind of bullshit are you spewing now?*
“Ha-jin, you shouldn’t drink either. You’re driving,” Tae-seong added.
At that exact moment, a fit of coughing came from the far end of the table—Kim Dae-hong, who’d just downed his glass all at once, suddenly seemed to realize his mistake. His face flushed crimson. Even though it was technically a dinner invitation from his employer’s grandfather, it was still during working hours. The dismay on his face was obvious.
Despite the awkward mood, Tae-seong calmly reached over and took Ha-jin’s glass right out of his hand, setting it down for him. The motion was so smooth and natural that it pulled Ha-jin out of his spiral about whether or not to drink. He hadn’t intended to drink anyway, but he’d been worrying about how to decline without drawing attention—so the relief washed over him.
“And it’s also my rut period.”
That last line was spoken just low enough for only Cheon Han-jo and Ha-jin to hear. Leaning in slightly to deliver the message to his grandfather, Tae-seong then lifted a glass of plain water, tilting it as if it were wine, and took a refined sip.
“Ahem… Well, it’s the thought that counts.” Cheon Han-jo gave Ha-jin a look of mild displeasure but quickly reeled it back in. He was a man determined not to let anything ruin the joy of today.
He then turned his attention elsewhere, moving swiftly toward another guest—the oldest-looking member of the medical staff that had come to visit Soo-young. The shift in focus let the tension ease off Tae-seong and Ha-jin.
Except for Joo Yoon-seo. Her eyes hadn’t moved.
“You’re in rut right now, aren’t you, Tae-seong?”
Later, after the wine had loosened the guests and the atmosphere turned informal and scattered with casual eating and chatting, Joo Yoon-seo approached the two.
Tae-seong was placing grilled meat onto Ha-jin’s plate and didn’t even spare her a glance as he replied.
“Kind of a weird question to ask mid-meal.”
“I thought something was off earlier this afternoon. You’re usually so meticulous, but you were leaking pheromones.”
“Yoon-seo, you didn’t come here today as my mother’s attending physician, right?”
He meant, unless she was here in a medical capacity, she had no reason to be discussing his pheromone situation.
Yoon-seo, sharp as ever, caught Tae-seong’s meaning immediately—but she didn’t back down.
“I’m just concerned. Ha-jin’s awakening came late, so I’m worried he might be a little too careless with his own body.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Oh, you’re ‘handling it’—by dragging a freshly manifested Omega around during your rut?”
“……”
“And you too, Ha-jin. You know better—”
Tae-seong abruptly stood up, cutting her off mid-sentence.
He crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto the table, then reached out his hand to Ha-jin.
“Let’s go. You’re done, right?”
“Hey, I was talking,” Yoon-seo snapped.
Ha-jin, who had also stood, shot a glance toward her stiff expression. Tae-seong finally turned to look at her, too. She stood with her arms crossed, gaze firmly fixed on him.
“Professor Joo,” Ha-jin said, “I understand what you’re trying to say.”
He wasn’t oblivious to what was going through her head. As an Omega herself, she likely had a clear idea of what kind of relationship two secondary-gendered individuals driven by pheromones might fall into. And the very thing she feared had already happened. Her warning about “watching out for knotting” still hadn’t even cooled off.
“I appreciate the concern. But whatever happens, it’s my body—and I’ll take responsibility for it. So I’ll handle it myself.”
Still, Ha-jin couldn’t shake the feeling that she was talking as if he and Tae-seong shouldn’t be together—as if their connection was inherently wrong because they met in a client-manager dynamic. If they’d just been two people who met naturally, would his late awakening even be anyone’s business?
That lingering thought stung more than he’d expected. It was like she was saying they weren’t compatible—that even their pheromones didn’t match. Ha-jin had wrestled with the same thoughts himself, so her concern hit more like an accusation.
“Hey,” Tae-seong cut in sharply.
Ha-jin reflexively looked up, thinking he was being addressed—but Tae-seong’s piercing glare was directed at Joo Yoon-seo.
“What’s your problem? If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. You’re not the type to beat around the bush.”
He’d mentioned she was older than him, but that didn’t stop Tae-seong from being blunt as hell. Ha-jin’s eyes widened slightly at the lack of formality.
“Actually, never mind. If it’s not something constructive, don’t bother. I’m not wasting my time listening to useless lectures. We’re leaving. Eat up—Grandfather made a big fuss for you. Show some appreciation.”
Ignoring whether Ha-jin was shocked or not, Tae-seong boldly threw his arm around him, clearly indicating they were done here and pulling him close.
Cradling Ha-jin against his chest as if shielding him, Tae-seong leaned in to whisper again.
“Let’s stop by the hospital. Please.”
Yoon-seo addressed Ha-jin as they turned to leave. Even with Tae-seong glaring at her, she didn’t flinch.
“If I jumped to conclusions, I’m sorry. But it’s pretty obvious, judging by the way you two are.”
Tae-seong clicked his tongue, barely audible, and only Ha-jin heard it.
He could’ve snapped back again, but instead, he said nothing. That silence—when he was perfectly capable of retaliating—was its own answer. The weight of what he’d done, the knotting, was clearly hanging over him, too. His jaw was clenched so tight, the muscle along it stood out.
They left the garden party behind and headed into the house, but halfway through, Tae-seong suddenly veered toward the backyard. Ha-jin followed without knowing why, and his breath caught slightly at the sight before him.
A charming little garden had been lovingly cultivated, full of healthy vegetables. This must be what Oh San-daek had mentioned in passing—Cheon Han-jo growing produce for his grandson.
Plump red tomatoes, shiny black eggplants, cucumbers hanging in clusters—it was stunning. There were even oversized pumpkins that brought back memories of his grandmother’s pumpkin porridge. Unconsciously, Ha-jin swallowed, and Tae-seong chuckled at the sound.
“Wanna take some?”
“Are you suggesting we steal it?”
“Dunno. Someone said no to the house, so I thought maybe you’d accept vegetables instead.”
“You didn’t even grow them yourself. Why are you trying to take credit for someone else’s work?”
“Oh? So you will give me credit if I do grow them?”
That casually tossed joke melted away the lingering tension. Bathed in the soft yellow glow of the backyard lights, Ha-jin found Tae-seong’s gaze unbearably warm. The way he’d snapped at Yoon-seo made it clear—he was treating Ha-jin as an exception.
I can hardly remember what you were like before all this.
Ha-jin rose up on tiptoe and, without thinking, cupped Tae-seong’s cheeks in both hands and kissed him. Tae-seong immediately wrapped his arms around Ha-jin’s waist, mouth parting. The pooled pheromones between them stirred and thickened.
With the rut cycle still lingering in his system, even saliva felt like a stimulant. Inside their parted mouths, everything was hotter, wetter than usual. Ha-jin eagerly drew out the pheromones Tae-seong had been suppressing, while pushing his own into the kiss.
It thrilled him to see Tae-seong react to his otherwise unimpressive pheromones. The way their scents mixed between their lips felt intoxicating, euphoric. He sucked at the firm flesh filling his mouth, groaning deep in his throat.
Mmm… A satisfied moan slipped out as their lips finally parted. Tae-seong stared down at him, eyes glazed with heat.
“…Ha-jin. If I told you I don’t regret it… would you be mad?”
Out of nowhere. Ha-jin, dazed, tilted his head, not catching the meaning right away. Tae-seong tightened his embrace, holding him close.
“Sorry… but I’m not sorry. I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t realize it this morning, but now I’m sure. I don’t feel bad. Not one bit.”
“…I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“I mean I’m happy, Ha-jin.”
That he was happy to have knotted with Ha-jin. That even knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t suppress the truth. His bonded heart throbbed with joy, and he couldn’t hold back any longer.
Tae-seong trembled slightly, overwhelmed by his own feelings, tightening his arms around Ha-jin. His jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might snap. Like he wanted to explode with everything he was holding in.
