“There’s been a fly buzzing around my person lately.”
“Your person?”
Han Ki-taek narrowed his eyes.
“What kind of nonsense is that? And what’s it got to do with me?”
“So you’re saying you know nothing about it, Executive Han?”
“How the hell would I know who your ‘person’ is? I don’t give a damn. Are you seriously telling me you pulled this stunt over some petty, baseless suspicion?”
Han Ki-taek shook the blood-soaked handkerchief in his hand. The way he spit the words with barely restrained fury made him look half-wronged.
Cheon Tae-seong watched his outburst like it was someone else’s problem, then replied flatly.
“Well, since you’re saying it isn’t you, I’ll take your word for it.”
“How nice. Must be easy to live with such simplicity.”
Though clearly irritated, Han Ki-taek took a breath and reined himself in. He forced down his displeasure and spoke again, his voice more composed but his face showing signs of exhaustion.
“You know better than anyone—I don’t have the time or energy to worry about your business. My entire day is already gone just visiting your mother. You think I’ve got the luxury to look into who your ‘person’ is?”
Cheon Tae-seong raised an eyebrow.
“I see. So you’re busy.”
Han Ki-taek let out a long sigh, flipped over the bloodstained handkerchief, and tried to clean the coffee stains on his suit. Of all days to wear a light gray suit, it had to be today.
He always thought he was cursed with bad luck at times like this. With an annoyed grunt, he finally tossed the handkerchief onto the floor.
“Stop bothering me. Life’s already enough of a struggle.”
Cheon Tae-seong let out a short laugh.
“I wonder if my mother would say the same.”
He didn’t even bother to meet Han Ki-taek’s gaze.
Han Ki-taek turned away, as if it wasn’t worth another word. The soiled handkerchief beneath his shoe was now trampled into something less than garbage.
Tae-seong’s brow twitched as he stared at it. He couldn’t even remember what color it had been originally. With a quiet click of his tongue, he stepped out of the car without even a nod of farewell.
He walked away without a backward glance, heading for the vehicle parked ahead.
Inside, Ha-jin was waiting anxiously. As soon as Tae-seong opened the door, not even fully inside yet, Ha-jin asked,
“How did it go? What did he say?”
“Just as expected. He claimed he didn’t know anything.”
“And when you looked at him? Did he seem believable? Isn’t that executive the strongest suspect you’ve got? The most vicious and greedy of the lot?”
Ha-jin bombarded him with questions. From the front seat, Kim Dae-hong cleared his throat softly, like he had something to say.
Tae-seong sat down and thumped the headrest of the passenger seat with his fist. Then he hit a button, lowering the privacy screen and sealing off the front.
With them now alone in the back, he leaned in toward Ha-jin.
“I don’t know. If you’d been there with me, you might’ve gotten a better read.”
“Did you do it right? Did you tell him we were a couple…?”
“I told him you’re my person.”
Tae-seong answered as he leaned in close. He wrapped an arm around Ha-jin’s shoulders, cupped his jaw, and tilted his face up.
Then he kissed him.
“…”
“Not even flinching anymore, huh?”
He whispered against Ha-jin’s lips. Just as Ha-jin was about to answer the teasing tickle with a retort, Tae-seong’s tongue slipped between his lips.
The pheromones that melted into his mouth carried with them a heavy mix of anxiety, conflict, and emotions too tangled to name.
Ha-jin could only close his eyes.
While Ha-jin was immersed in the kiss, Han Ki-taek’s car passed by outside.
Tae-seong kept a sharp eye on it, watching through the window.
It felt like their gazes met for an instant—Han Ki-taek likely staring out the window, seated in the backseat, just as fixated.
Only once the white sedan had vanished without a trace did Tae-seong shift his focus back to Ha-jin.
As he pressed down on Ha-jin’s hesitant little tongue and teased the inside of his mouth, a moan rose from deep in Ha-jin’s throat.
The sting of Han Ki-taek’s voice, his expression, the memory of confronting him—those remnants continued to stir something inside Tae-seong.
Had it really been the right call…?
When he finally pulled away, Ha-jin looked up at him, lips stained with Tae-seong’s pheromones.
Round eyes, full of surprise and uncertainty, searched Tae-seong’s face, trying to read him.
There were still so many things left unsaid between them. And today was clearly not the day to unpack it all.
Without a word, Tae-seong pulled Ha-jin into his arms.
He felt Ha-jin tense and try to push away, but he had no intention of letting go.
The warmth of someone he’d once lost was unbearably sweet—so much so, it blurred reality.
Facing his own feelings at last, Ha-jin’s presence felt almost miraculous, like time itself had been rewound.
***
It was the day the results were due for the grandly named “pheromone constitution change tracking test”.
These days, Ha-jin finished work and headed straight to Yushin’s hospital room, so he’d taken a half-day off and enjoyed a rare morning of sleeping in.
As he rubbed his dry eyes and got out of bed, Yushin’s caretaker greeted him cheerfully.
“You must’ve been really tired, Ha-jin. You didn’t even hear breakfast come in at 7. Go wash up and eat. Or no, I’ll heat it up for you.”
“No, please don’t go to the trouble.”
Flustered, Ha-jin scrambled up and insisted cold rice was fine.
From his bed, Yushin smiled at the scene.
“My brother’s been getting home late these days. Thanks for understanding, ma’am.”
“No worries! Go wash up, now. I heard you’ve got the day off.”
“Just a half day, just a half day. Haha.”
Chuckling awkwardly, Ha-jin darted into the bathroom.
The face that greeted him in the mirror was puffy and swollen.
It had been a week since they agreed to “pretend to date.”
And for that whole week, Tae-seong had kept Ha-jin tied up until late every night, saying no decent partner would just clock out and leave their lover hanging.
Other than the constant kisses under the excuse of sharing pheromones, it had actually been a rather enjoyable week.
The moment he thought about it, his reflection in the mirror turned bright red.
They’d had some drinks last night, which was probably why his face looked like a steamed bun.
Blame it on the nacho platter Tae-seong had made as a snack—it had been too good.
Still no messages…
It had only been a week, but Ha-jin’s patience was already wearing thin.
The executive he suspected most hadn’t reacted at all, even after hearing the phrase my person.
Maybe he really wasn’t involved.
Or maybe that bastard Kang Sung-oh had already caught on to what Ha-jin was doing and told them to change course.
The anxiety gnawed at him.
After washing up and changing, he gratefully accepted the caretaker’s insistence on reheating breakfast, then headed out like he was leaving the house—though technically, it was just the hospital room.
Calling it a “hospital room” didn’t quite do it justice.
The place was bigger and nicer than most officetels. Even the extra bed and sofa for the guardian were more luxurious than what Ha-jin had at home.
Yushin had recovered enough to joke that he could live there full-time. That said it all.
After passing the guards stationed outside the room, Ha-jin took the elevator to the lobby—and there, standing like a statue amid the crowd, was Cheon Tae-seong.
Ha-jin blinked in surprise.
“CEO?”
It was clear he hadn’t come for some other errand.
The moment their eyes met, Tae-seong strode toward him with long, purposeful steps.
As the tall man drew near, he felt even more imposing.
Ha-jin tilted his head, confused.
“Why are you here? Don’t you have to work today?”
He glanced at his watch to double-check the day and time, but Tae-seong only shrugged.
“My partner’s getting the results of an important test. How could I not be here? That’s what people do when they’re in a relationship, right?”
“I-I mean, isn’t that a bit much? You’re ditching work for this?”
Without thinking, Ha-jin rubbed his cheek.
Sure enough, people were staring.
Standing face-to-face in such a public place made him embarrassingly self-conscious. This was nothing like having dinner and drinks at Tae-seong’s place, just the two of them.
Tae-seong leaned in close, lowering his head until their faces were nearly touching. His brown eyes slowly scanned the subtle blush spreading across Ha-jin’s cheek.
“We’re not actually dating, so what’s there to be embarrassed about?”
He gave Ha-jin’s cheek a playful pinch, like it was second nature, then extended his arm.
Ha-jin just stared at it blankly.
Tae-seong tilted his head slightly and blinked—then gently took Ha-jin’s hand and guided it to rest on his arm.
His touch was gentle, but firm. Ha-jin had no choice but to hold on.
“That was me asking you to link arms.”
Tae-seong whispered, barely audible. Flustered, Ha-jin quickly grabbed the crook of his arm.
“Ah, right… I-I didn’t realize.”
“It’s fine. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Shall we go?
Having clearly decided everything himself, Tae-seong took a step forward confidently—then stopped to ask,
“Which way is the exam room?”
Ha-jin couldn’t help but laugh.
