“You don’t know anything, Hyung!”
“And why the hell are you talking to me like that?!”
Haon and Seong-gu’s heated voices showed no signs of calming down. As much as they were happy to see each other, the feelings of hurt had only doubled.
“I don’t care. I’m not talking to you today.”
Haon, his eyes reddened, blinked rapidly and turned his head toward the window. His voice, sharp and angry as he declared not to speak until tomorrow, cut through the air.
Seong-gu, stunned by Haon’s unfamiliar attitude, could only gape, at a loss for words. The sweet, docile little brother he used to know had completely changed after spending some time in Seoul.
“You… Are you really Jung Haon? Are you really my little brother?”
True to his word, Haon didn’t respond. He even turned his back on Seong-gu, signaling that he had no intention of continuing the conversation.
“They say Omegas are sensitive, after all.”
Seong-gu, genuinely flustered, accidentally blurted out his inner thoughts. Haon’s eyes widened like full moons in shock.
“Hyung, don’t you dare say stuff like that in front of others. That’s prejudice.”
Realizing his mistake this time, Seong-gu awkwardly scratched around his mouth. Having never met an Omega in real life before, the words had just slipped out without a filter.
On the day Haon said he was coming back to the countryside, he had confessed to his brother that he had manifested as an Omega.
Seong-gu had accepted the news far more calmly than Haon had feared. He simply told him to hurry back. Saying he was worried sick, he had insisted they meet up right away.
Reflected in the pitch-black window, Haon’s face looked on the verge of tears. Yet he fought back the urge to cry, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. His voice was raw from raising it so much, something he wasn’t used to doing.
“Drink some water.”
Glancing sideways at Haon, who was sniffling and coughing, Seong-gu held out a water bottle. When Haon refused and only gripped his seatbelt tighter, Seong-gu forcibly wedged it into his arm.
“I brought it for you. Drink it.”
Only then did Haon take the bottle into his hand. The water inside the clear plastic container had a faint yellow tint. As he opened the lid, the warm, nutty scent of barley tea wafted up.
Seong-gu’s family only drank barley tea that they boiled themselves, never plain water. When Haon was little, he had sometimes visited Seong-gu’s house just to drink this barley tea. For a moment, he lingered on the memories the single bottle brought back before finally opening his mouth.
“Do Auntie and Uncle know, too…? About me manifesting.”
“Of course. Didn’t you tell me first so I could let them know?”
That wasn’t exactly it. The disappointment clouding Haon’s eyes deepened.
“I told you first because I was worried you’d be shocked….”
“Then you should’ve told me even earlier. Right when it happened.”
A sigh escaped Seong-gu’s low voice.
“How could you not tell me something that important? It’s not like you kept it secret for just a week—it was over a year! Does that even make sense? Aren’t we family?”
Haon, overwhelmed by the final question, reached out and lightly grabbed Seong-gu’s forearm. The skin beneath his palm was rough, completely different from Inho’s touch.
“I’m sorry, Hyung.”
This was the same sturdy arm that used to carry him on piggyback when he was little, wandering all over the village together. To Haon, Seong-gu had been like a father, a brother, and his one and only friend all at once.
“If you ever keep another secret from me, I’m not letting it slide. I’m serious.”
“I swear, I won’t. From now on, I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”
Seong-gu pulled Haon’s face against him with one strong arm. Haon immediately leaned into Seong-gu’s shoulder as if he had been waiting for it.
“I’m really sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you since you came back healthy.”
“Yeah, I got a lot healthier. I’m not the same as before.”
Seong-gu couldn’t help but agree. Honestly, he had expected Haon to come back looking worn out and frail. The kid had always been weak, and he had endured the hardships of living alone in an unfamiliar city—Seong-gu was sure it would have drained him completely.
But Haon had shattered all those worries the moment he came running up to the truck, looking brighter than ever. Watching him hop in place like a frog, full of energy, had genuinely surprised Seong-gu. Haon had never been that lively, even as a child.
As Seong-gu roughly ruffled Haon’s hair, which now felt smoother and healthier than before, a suspicious glint entered his eyes.
Haon didn’t smell like soap anymore—there was a new scent on him, something he’d never encountered before. Now that he thought about it, even Haon’s clothes looked expensive. They weren’t anything flashy, but to someone like Seong-gu, who didn’t pay much attention to fashion, it was obvious these weren’t cheap.
Seong-gu threw a glance at the truck bed through the side mirror and twisted his lips. When Inho’s grinning face popped into his mind, his expression hardened.
Everything seemed too perfect, and that just made it more suspicious. He needed to keep a closer eye on things.
“You’re sleeping separately tonight.”
“Huh?”
“That guy can sleep at your house. You’re coming to ours.”
Haon’s mouth fell open. He was about to shout, Hyung! but before he could, a hard flick to his forehead cut him off. This time, it actually hurt.
“Jung Haon.”
Seong-gu’s stern voice rang out as he kept his eyes fixed forward.
“You haven’t seen your hyung in so long. Don’t make it worse by hurting my feelings more.”
“But still….”
Shrinking back at the sight of his brother’s unfamiliar, stone-cold expression, Haon mumbled weakly.
“It’s Inho’s first night here… How could I just leave him alone….”
Seong-gu didn’t respond. His silence made it clear that he wasn’t about to change his mind.
In the end, Haon gave up trying to convince him. He deliberately let out an exaggerated sigh, loud enough for his brother to hear, but it was useless. Until they reached the house, Seong-gu’s tightly sealed lips didn’t open even once.
Haon leaned heavily against the window, weighed down by guilt. He had truly believed that once Seong-gu met Inho in person, he would come to like him too.
Yet here they were, and from the very first day, Inho was being treated coldly. Haon felt so sorry he could die. Instead of a warm welcome, Inho was being ignored.
Haon squeezed his eyes shut as the memory of Inho’s rejected handshake resurfaced. That white hand, left awkwardly hanging in the air for a few seconds, seemed like something that would even haunt his dreams.
How humiliated he must have felt.
Haon’s eyes burned again, recalling how anxious Inho had been before Seong-gu even arrived. But he stubbornly fought the tears back. Right now, Inho had no one else to lean on but him. He had to stay strong.
“Just drop off the luggage and come back.”
Seong-gu said firmly as he parked in front of Haon’s house. Haon nodded stiffly and climbed out of the truck alone, pressing his lips together tightly.
What should I say to Inho… He tapped his chest to calm his racing heart as he walked toward the cargo bed. Inho was already unloading bags, slinging them one by one over his shoulders.
“Inho-ssi, let me take that.”
Haon quickly rushed over and reached out his arms. Inho handed him the lightest bag and stepped down from the truck bed. Thankfully, his expression hadn’t changed at all.
“Was it uncomfortable back there? The floor must have been hard.”
“No, not at all. It was even better. Felt like I was on a road trip.”
Inho reassured Haon with a bright smile. It didn’t seem like he was just pretending—he really looked like he’d had a good time. Even his voice sounded lighter.
“Is this your house, Haon-ssi?”
Inho’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the low gate. Just standing straight, he could already see the entire layout of the house beyond the gate. Haon nodded, his face flushing with embarrassment, and moved his lips to speak.
“Um, Inho-ssi….”
He couldn’t bring himself to say that Inho would have to sleep here alone tonight. Yet he couldn’t just leave his angry brother by himself either.
“Haon-ssi, are you feeling alright?”
Before Haon could fumble out anything, Inho took a step closer, concern written on his face. Haon had gotten a bit carsick just before they got off the bus, and Inho had asked then, too. It seemed he was worried again after the short ride in the truck.
“I’m fine, really.”
“You’re not uncomfortable anywhere?”
As always, Inho gently checked Haon’s forehead and neck, scanning his condition. Whenever Haon went somewhere crowded or stayed out for too long, Inho always made sure to check on him like this.
Haon answered with a brave smile, saying he was perfectly fine. Ever since he decided to come back home, it was strange—his stamina had genuinely improved, from head to toe.
“Then go stay at your brother’s house tonight. Don’t worry about me.”
Inho’s low, tender voice wrapped around him, making Haon blink in surprise.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. He must have been really worried about you.”
Inho’s smile as he said that was so radiant it almost hurt to look at. And yet, Haon couldn’t relax so easily.
“Will you be okay sleeping alone…?”
“Of course.”
Inho chuckled softly as he answered, but Haon, wearing the most serious expression, gave a stern warning.
“It might get a little scary at night. It’s really dark and quiet here.”
“That’s way better than somewhere bright and noisy.”
Inho, almost out of habit, leaned in to kiss him, but caught himself, taking a step back after glancing toward the passenger side window. From the driver’s seat, Seong-gu was glaring daggers at him, ready to storm out and drag Haon away if they so much as touched.
“Then… just for tonight, we’ll sleep separately. I’ll come back the moment the sun rises.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
Haon led Inho into the house, giving him a brief introduction. Though he was still worried, he felt a little more at ease thanks to Inho’s reassurance.
“This is… my house.”
His voice dropped slightly the moment he stepped through the gate and into the yard.
He glanced at the old wooden platform where his grandmother used to sit, then marched forward with determination toward the porch.
“The bathroom’s to the right. When you want to turn on the light, just pull the white string hanging from the ceiling. Like this.”
He mimicked pulling the cord, carefully explaining each detail. Inho listened intently, soaking in the sight of Haon with a tender gaze.
“And at night, use the flashlight when you go to the bathroom. We always keep it right here.”
Haon pointed at the flashlight sitting in its usual spot, then froze, noticing the porch floor. Amazingly, it was completely dust-free. Even the yard looked like it had been freshly swept.
Inside the house was no different. It wasn’t just the visible areas; every corner had been meticulously cleaned.
Haon’s throat bobbed visibly. His eyes grew damp against his will.
“Ahem, to turn on the room lights, use this switch. Ah, and for your luggage, just put it wherever you feel comfortable—”
He couldn’t finish his sentence.
Inho, who had been following him up the porch, suddenly pressed their lips together.
The luggage slipped from Haon’s hands and tumbled across the floor. Inho casually nudged it aside with his foot and wrapped his arms around Haon’s slender waist.
Their upper bodies pressed firmly together as Inho claimed Haon’s small mouth, filling it completely with his own.
Pushed back by Inho’s strength, Haon’s back hit the wall before he even realized it. Tilting his chin up toward Inho, Haon eagerly moved his tongue to meet him, returning the kiss without a second thought.
As Inho’s breath washed over him, the turmoil inside Haon melted away like snow. It felt nothing short of miraculous.
“Haa…”
Just as Haon was about to run out of breath, Inho finally released his lips.
Inho didn’t stop there—he rained kisses over Haon’s wet lips, his high-bridged nose, his eyes, and his forehead, planting delicate, bird-like pecks as if he were pecking lightly with a beak.
Only after seeing the corners of Haon’s lips lift into a smile did Inho finally release the arms he had wrapped around his waist.
Then he brought his lips close to Haon’s ear and whispered,
“See you tomorrow. I’ll be waiting patiently.”
