2) Not a Manager, a Handler
Cheon Tae-seong started work precisely at 9 a.m.
Ha-jin had to arrive at his house at least two hours earlier than that. At 6:40 a.m., the person who greeted Ha-jin in the building lobby was Kim Dae-hong.
He’d been told to just show his ID photo to the front desk and head up—but here was Kim Dae-hong instead. When Ha-jin gave a polite bow, puzzled, Dae-hong greeted him more cheerfully than expected.
“Good morning, Manager.”
“Good morning. Uh, I’m… not a manager, I’m a handler.”
“Same difference, isn’t it? Anyway, this way, please. I’ll unlock the elevator for you.”
At the front desk, Lee Jung-min blinked in surprise. Ha-jin gave him a small nod and followed after Kim Dae-hong.
In the polished reflection of the elevator doors, Dae-hong looked like he had something to say.
“Something on your mind?”
“Pardon?”
“You look like you’ve got something you want to tell me.”
Bullseye. Kim Dae-hong scratched the back of his head. His usual good-natured personality peeked through at moments like this.
“Well… it’s about yesterday. When I said all that stuff about Omegas…”
“If that’s what you’re talking about, it’s fine. You already apologized.”
“No, I mean, not just that…”
Hearing his softened tone, Ha-jin smiled, thinking they could probably become friendly sooner than expected.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he stepped out quickly, gave a polite bow, and said,
“Thanks for showing me up. You don’t have to think about yesterday anymore. I’ve already forgotten it. Let’s get along from now on.”
“Ah…”
Kim Dae-hong bit his lip awkwardly but took Ha-jin’s offered hand. Ha-jin gave his hand an energetic shake, determined to wipe away any lingering hesitation.
Maybe it was the noise at the entrance, but Cheon Tae-seong appeared. He was coming slowly down the loft staircase, stark naked. His hair was still dark and damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower.
Ha-jin immediately let go of Dae-hong’s hand and spun around. Managing someone’s pheromone cycles or ruts was one thing—seeing their bare skin was an entirely different matter. Besides, the unexpected sight had genuinely thrown him off.
“Ah!”
Ha-jin flinched and let out a surprised yelp. A drop of water had fallen on the back of his neck—ice cold. He reflexively turned, and more drops from Tae-seong’s damp hair splattered onto his cheek.
Cheon Tae-seong leaned in close enough to almost brush against him and greeted him with a sleepy voice.
“Morning. You’re here early.”
His field of view was flooded with skin.
“G…good morning.”
Ha-jin kept his head rigidly lifted, replying only with his mouth. If he looked down, he knew exactly what he’d see. His gaze stayed locked on Tae-seong’s face.
“……”
“……”
Tae-seong stared silently at him, then slowly curled his eyes into a smile.
Then, without warning, he reached out and wrapped a hand around Ha-jin’s neck. His palm pressed gently over his throat, long fingers trailing down to cover its entirety. There was no real pressure, but the heat of his hand was stifling.
“CEO…?”
Ha-jin couldn’t even think to pull away. He swallowed dryly. Tae-seong’s gaze flicked to the bump of Ha-jin’s throat under his palm, then he tilted his head slightly.
“Soft.”
“……”
He had no idea what that meant. He was at a complete loss for words.
Tae-seong’s unreadable gaze lingered for a beat before he pulled his hand away as suddenly as he’d reached out, as if nothing had happened, and walked right past him.
Kim Dae-hong quickly followed behind.
“…What the hell.”
Left standing stiffly alone, Ha-jin touched his neck like someone checking whether their head had been cleanly severed and reattached.
Soft…? Yeah, it was soft, but what was that even supposed to mean?
The thought flashed through his head, but he quickly shook it off. Don’t overthink it, Lee Ha-jin! He probably just meant it literally—soft means soft.
But there was something else bothering him more.
He always used to sleep in late…
In his past life, Tae-seong had never woken up on time unless Ha-jin went into the bedroom to shake him awake. He’d hated going to work, and his sleeping habits were so bad that Ha-jin got dragged into bed with him multiple times. Those mornings had been sheer hell.
So seeing him up early today actually made things easier for Ha-jin—it was one less thing for him to do. But it also threw off his entire plan.
Because he’d just showered, the lingering pheromones from yesterday were completely washed away. There was no way to compare them now.
And yet, the testing time was set. He couldn’t exactly ask to skip it.
Which meant the morning pheromone reading had to be done through blood. Telling a man who hated needles that he needed another blood draw? Not exactly a conversation he wanted to have.
Still, it was his fault for not warning him in advance. He’d have to take the hit for that one.
Wait, and he never used to walk around naked either.
Cheon Tae-seong’s unpredictable behavior was throwing him completely off.
Ha-jin had vowed not to act like he knew things about Tae-seong—and now he realized just how hard it was to pretend like this was all new.
Don’t expect anything. Don’t assume anything. Details always change.
Ha-jin shook his head, chasing after Tae-seong.
Meanwhile, Kim Dae-hong took advantage of the moment when Ha-jin fell behind to quietly start a conversation. Tae-seong was in a rare good mood this morning, so Dae-hong figured now was his best chance to ask.
As Tae-seong slowly slipped on the robe Dae-hong had hurriedly handed him, he responded.
“How much?”
“Two million… three hundred seventy thousand won.”
Tae-seong let out a soft laugh.
“Okay, did you give him a breakdown?”
“…No, I didn’t.”
“Well then, Dae-hong, you don’t have any proof that you gave it to him.”
“But, sir…”
Dae-hong was frustrated. Whenever the company sent Omegas as part of “hospitality,” he’d always paid them out of his own pocket for transportation or hush money, and then submitted the receipts later.
But now he was being told he couldn’t be reimbursed for the money he gave Ha-jin.
The excuse? “We can’t process funds with an unclear purpose.” Suddenly the admin office wanted to play by the rules.
Leaning against the bar table, Tae-seong crushed an empty water bottle in his hand.
“That’s what you get for talking trash to a kid with ears barely bigger than his eardrums. Where the hell did you think the insults would even go?”
“I swear, I didn’t mean it like that! Sir!”
Tae-seong’s tone was chiding, but his face was soft, so Dae-hong pushed again—this time with a pitiful expression.
“I mean, come on. He really does look like one of those Omegas they send for, you know, ‘entertainment.’”
Honestly, he thought Ha-jin was even better looking than most of them. That’s why he hadn’t hesitated to fork over such a large sum.
With a face like that sitting on top of those shoulders, how could he not have assumed he was there for something other than “official business”?
His imagination might’ve been limited, but the idea that Ha-jin was there for a legitimate reason had never even crossed his mind.
“Dae-hong. Fix your face.”
That’s your level of judgment? Tae-seong muttered, resting a hand on Dae-hong’s shoulder.
Just as Dae-hong closed his mouth, sensing it was time to shut up, Ha-jin’s footsteps approached from behind.
“Excuse me. If you’re finished talking, I need to check your pheromone levels. It has to be done before 9 a.m.”
Tae-seong noticed something strange in Ha-jin’s expression and looked more closely at what he was holding. His brows knit slightly.
“You said no blood draw.”
“Ah… that’s because you showered this morning. It’s harder for me to distinguish the trace levels now. I should’ve told you earlier, that’s my fault. I’m sorry. But actually, for now, tracking your blood levels might not be a bad idea. I swear I’m not just trying to get out of responsibility—”
Tae-seong suddenly gripped Dae-hong’s shoulder and laughed deeply.
“Ugh!”
Dae-hong let out a stifled groan, startling Ha-jin mid-explanation. His eyes went wide, and he nearly dropped the blood testing kit.
“Why are you rambling so much, Ha-jin? You think I’m scared of needles?”
“No.”
“Uuuuugh…”
Ha-jin denied it, but Dae-hong’s groan grew even more dramatic.
The truth was, Ha-jin did know that Tae-seong was afraid of needles.
In their past life, during his interview and their first real meeting, he’d seen with his own eyes how Tae-seong’s neatly drawn brows twitched at the sight of a syringe—even before it touched him.
As Tae-seong stared into Ha-jin’s eyes, like he was trying to read something in them, he suddenly reached out and snatched the device from his hand.
At the same time, Dae-hong was released from his grip.
The man who had been groaning and bent over was now miraculously fine, standing upright as if nothing happened.
“Wait! Don’t just jab it like that—!”
Ha-jin reached out in a panic. Tae-seong, without even glancing at the needle, had jabbed it straight into his own fingertip.
The fact that he didn’t hesitate was admirable, but he’d pressed too hard and too deep—blood spurted out like a water gun.
“There was no need to prick yourself that hard. I only need one drop.”
It wasn’t a serious injury. But the excessive force meant more blood than necessary.
Tae-seong looked down silently at Ha-jin, who now held his hand.
