Chapter 190
What could he be thinking? If only he could look inside Tae-geon’s head. How did he really view Jerome? Was he just seeing him as a means to manipulate Hyeon-woo at will?
Unable to even guess Tae-geon’s feelings, Hyeon-woo was reluctant to reveal even a small part of the truth about Jerome.
“Hey, you know what,” Jerome roused Hyeon-woo from his deep thoughts.
“I think Uncle only likes you, Dad. But that’s okay. I like Uncle too, because he likes you.”
Hyeon-woo nearly choked at Jerome’s unexpected words. Had he seen them holding hands in the movie theater? Hyeon-woo tried to ask in a calm voice.
“…What do you mean? Uncle likes Dad? Why?”
“Hmm, Jerome doesn’t really know either. Ask Uncle!”
Bored with the continued questions, Jerome wiggled his bottom restlessly before finally leaving the bedroom.
Hyeon-woo watched Jerome with a troubled face as he dumped out his toy box onto the living room mat and began playing with a toy car.
Jerome’s words that Uncle only seemed to like Dad weighed heavily on Hyeon-woo’s mind, sounding as if it meant he didn’t like Jerome. Perhaps Jerome instinctively sensed that Tae-geon didn’t care for him.
Of course, Tae-geon had no obligation to like Jerome. Hyeon-woo knew it was greedy to hope Tae-geon would like Jerome as much as he did. Still, he felt disappointed.
Though instinct had made him protect Jerome as his own child against Tae-geon’s cold gaze, part of him must have hoped Tae-geon would come to cherish Jerome just as much.
Maybe Tae-geon was doing his best in his own way. Even if that meant wearing a smiling mask. But the longer it went on, the more painful it became for everyone.
It was time to let go of vain hopes and desires. Perhaps it would be better to leave the mansion and look for other work, even if the pay wasn’t as satisfactory.
Lost in his spiraling thoughts, Hyeon-woo suddenly realized it was already midnight. He had finally put Jerome to bed after the boy threw a tantrum, not wanting to sleep. Since Jerome had taken a long nap earlier, Hyeon-woo had to read him three storybooks before he fell asleep.
It was only on the third day after returning to the mansion that Hyeon-woo realized what had been bothering him all weekend.
“Come to my room by midnight tomorrow.”
Hyeon-woo’s hand froze as he was clearing the dinner table. Tae-geon’s rut was approaching. Only then did he remember about the suppressants. He had completely forgotten to buy more in advance, as the supply was running low, having been distracted all weekend.
How many pills were left?
A cold sweat ran down his spine. Even taking more than the recommended dose, he always crumbled helplessly to Tae-geon’s pheromones. The thought of what might happen with a rutting Tae-geon without even that was dizzying. He might cross lines he shouldn’t in his craving for pleasure.
Hurrying back to his room, Hyeon-woo emptied the remaining suppressants into his palm. There were only six pills. It wasn’t enough, but if he carefully spaced out the doses, he might be able to get through his heat cycle without completely losing his mind.
Hyeon-woo swallowed dryly, clutching the suppressants tightly in his hand.
He felt nauseous at the thought of being intimate with Tae-geon in this state, without having reached any clear conclusions about Jerome or Tae-geon.
“…Sigh.”
A deep sigh escaped involuntarily.
Well, when had his mind ever been at ease? There was no need to overthink it – he could just live in a symbiotic relationship with Tae-geon like a crocodile and a plover bird, under the guise of “charity” and “patronage” as Tae-geon wanted.
Even if it was clear that Tae-geon disliked Jerome, it would be fine as long as Jerome didn’t know that fact.
Why couldn’t he just consider it as Tae-geon repaying Jerome for the charity Hyeon-woo had given? Why did he keep attaching meaning to Tae-geon’s every look and action, repeatedly expecting and being disappointed?
It felt like embers of the intense feelings he once had for Tae-geon in the distant past still remained somewhere unseen. His guilt over promises unkept with Tae-geon, his sense of responsibility for Tae-geon’s imprint, his sympathy for Tae-geon’s childhood – it was as if they had mutated in a strange direction and were playing tricks in his mind.
Otherwise, why would he feel so tormented every time he thought of Tae-geon?
He buried his head deep in the pillow and pulled the blanket over his head. He didn’t want to think anymore.
Hyeon-woo emptied his mind and surrendered himself to the unconsciousness overtaking him.
*
“Ugh…!”
With a pain-filled groan, Tae-geon gripped the sheets violently. Shifting his gaze, blurred by heat, to look at the clock, the time was 1 AM, past midnight.
His body, long tormented by earlier than usual symptoms, had already reached its limit.
His mind, recalling Hyeon-woo and wondering what was taking him so long, felt like it was burning up. Had he still not realized that the later he came, the more painful it would be for himself?
As Tae-geon gritted his teeth, a possibility suddenly occurred to him. Surely he hadn’t left the mansion without permission again, like that time…
At that thought, Tae-geon abruptly got up.
Tae-geon’s gait as he crossed the pitch-dark corridor, where not even a sliver of moonlight entered due to the overcast sky, was consumed with anger.
Just as he approached the stairs, for a moment Tae-geon’s vision distorted like a whirlpool, and a terrible heat-induced dizziness swept over him. He quickly stopped, grabbing the wall as he staggered.
It felt like his chest was being seared by fire. Panting with rage, he descended the stairs. The untied sash of his robe dragged on the floor. Tae-geon’s exposed shoulders glistened with sweat as he clenched his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain.
The moment he finally stepped off the last stair, an unbearably sweet scent suddenly assaulted Tae-geon. Gathering his clouded senses, Tae-geon covered his nose and mouth with his hand, chewing on a curse.
Han Hyeon-woo…!
With an ominous premonition, he ran to Hyeon-woo’s room and opened the door.
“Urgh!”
A potent fragrance that shook his entire pituitary gland rushed into Tae-geon’s lungs. Barely holding onto his reason which he almost lost, Tae-geon entered and found Hyeon-woo sprawled unconscious on the bed.
“Han Hyeon-woo! Wake up…!”
He grabbed Hyeon-woo’s shoulders and shook him, but Hyeon-woo only managed to pant shallowly, unable to even open his eyes properly. Even in this state, Hyeon-woo’s erect front was thoroughly soaked.
Tae-geon looked around hastily with feverish eyes.
“The suppressants, what happened to the suppressants? Huh?”
If he had known it would be like this, he should have come earlier. He had only thought he was being blindsided again, never imagining Hyeon-woo would be sprawled out in this state.
As Tae-geon looked around, he finally spotted a pill bottle on the nightstand. He quickly reached out to grab it, but a chill ran down his neck. It was far too light. He opened the lid and turned the bottle upside down, but nothing came out.
Tae-geon turned back to Hyeon-woo with a pale face.
“…What on earth were you thinking…”
Tae-geon’s chest heaved up and down repeatedly with his panting breath as he ground out the words. He too was at his limit.
If he lost his mind here for even a moment, he felt he might completely ruin Hyeon-woo, consumed by instinct. Wouldn’t it be better to return to his own room now and endure while restraining his limbs?
As Tae-geon’s consciousness loosened, pushed to the limit, dense alpha pheromones began to leak from his body. In response, Hyeon-woo’s body, sprawled like a corpse, twitched.
“Uh…, hnn.”
As Hyeon-woo let out a faint moan, Tae-geon, who had been burying his face in his hands in anguish unaware that Hyeon-woo had awakened, suddenly felt his mind go numb at the warmth clinging to his back and the terribly appealing scent flooding his lungs.
“…Ah, Tae-geon… Ah.”
The hair all over Tae-geon’s body stood on end at Hyeon-woo’s hot breath pouring into his ear.
He could no longer think of anything. In the face of his desire for Hyeon-woo, things like self-restraint or moderation were nothing more than pretty words.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
