“What kind of game do you play…?”
Instead of mocking him, Tae-seong gathered every ounce of patience he had and asked gently.
With his mouth stuffed full of pasta, Ha-jin raised a hand at Tae-seong’s question. While chewing with one hand covering his mouth, he pulled out his phone and showed him the screen.
Ha-jin tapped a few times, revealing a colorful, flashy action game. Even if you didn’t know the details, the huge “Top 81.36%” stamped in the upper-right corner was hard to miss.
Tae-seong lightly tapped that number with a finger, and the screen shifted to a weekly user ranking. The user list scrolled endlessly downward until it finally stopped near the bottom—there was Ha-jin’s username. No rank, just a percentage.
A ranking so low it didn’t even qualify for an actual placement.
“…Why even bother playing?”
This time, Tae-seong couldn’t hide his true feelings. Ha-jin glanced at him with round, innocent eyes, then sipped his juice to rinse his mouth.
“I just do it for fun. It’s a hobby that doesn’t cost money unless you get obsessed with rankings. I can play it mindlessly, without having to think. Trying to make the leaderboard just makes everything complicated…”
“You really hate complicated stuff, don’t you?”
“I mean… what’s the point of being number one in a game like that?”
“Are you sure it’s not just because you’re broke?”
This time, Ha-jin narrowed his eyes and glared. Tae-seong let out a snort of laughter and pulled out his own phone, tapping the screen.
“What are you doing?”
When he didn’t answer right away, Ha-jin’s curiosity only grew. He rose halfway from his chair, leaning over to peek at Tae-seong’s screen. Their foreheads brushed just as Tae-seong looked up, their eyes locking for a brief moment. Startled, Ha-jin quickly looked down—and there it was. His game.
“…What the hell?”
“I figured I’d give it a try. It’s something my boyfriend plays—even though he claims there’s nothing fun in the world.”
“……”
Ha-jin didn’t know what to say. He sat back down in silence while cheerful game sound effects played softly over the round table. Tae-seong, who had curtly told him to “Just eat,” was now silently frowning as he focused on the tutorial. Ha-jin watched him out of the corner of his eye as he kept eating.
With his eyes cast down, long dark lashes shadowed Tae-seong’s expression—it was impossible to read what he was thinking.
The two of them, seated diagonally across, began inching closer together. It was because Ha-jin had gradually scooted his chair to get a better look at Tae-seong’s screen.
As he stuffed the last piece of pizza into his mouth, Ha-jin’s phone suddenly chimed. He opened the game, and sure enough—it was a friend request from Cheon Tae-seong. Unable to hold back his laughter, Ha-jin burst out in a fit of giggles, prompting Tae-seong to raise a disapproving brow.
“You’re supposed to accept it right away. What are you laughing at?”
“I will. Gimme your phone.”
“…Why the hell do you have so many friends?”
Tae-seong snatched Ha-jin’s phone, looking down at it with a deadly serious expression.
“I just add whoever shows up so I can get the daily mission rewards. You should do that too—just tap everyone on your friend recommendation list. That’s how you get hearts.”
“No thanks.”
He sulkily continued tapping through the game, then suddenly looked up as if he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Delete them all.”
“…Why? I told you, I need those hearts.”
“I’m counting that as cheating.”
When Ha-jin just laughed in disbelief, Tae-seong snatched the phone again and began deleting names one by one himself. Ha-jin, who had been about to argue, gave up. It wasn’t like he couldn’t re-add them later—and honestly, watching Tae-seong do it was both cute and hilarious.
After a while, Tae-seong, now completely focused, put down both phones at once.
“This game sucks.”
Ha-jin burst into laughter again.
“Right? Why’d you even try it?”
Still laughing, Ha-jin covered his mouth when he noticed Tae-seong’s intense stare and bit back his grin with a fake cough.
“Isn’t there anything else you’d like to do besides games?”
“Hmm… I haven’t really thought about it.”
Ha-jin rolled his eyes, clearly uncomfortable. He had, in fact, briefly wondered—after a recent brainwave scan—if maybe he was living too much like an ant. But that thought had quickly been pushed aside by the chaos of daily life.
“You should think about it. I mean, I am your boyfriend. I’m not about to just sit here while you waste your time on some free game where you can’t even crack the rankings. You’ve gotta fool Kang Sung-oh, remember?”
“…That’s true. So, what should we do?”
“……”
What should we do?
At those words—Ha-jin agreeing so easily to do something with him—Tae-seong had to fight the urge to mentally spiral.
If it were up to him, he would’ve dragged Ha-jin out of that depressing, semi-basement shithole of an apartment and moved him straight into his own place. He’d keep that stinking Alpha bastard from ever laying eyes on him again.
Would it have been easier if Ha-jin didn’t have a sick little brother? Maybe he could use the manager excuse to get him to move in… but honestly, without Yushin, Ha-jin probably wouldn’t even be working as a pheromone manager—and they’d never have met.
Thinking that only made him feel worse.
So maybe he should look into a nice private hospital and get Yushin admitted there? The thought flashed by, even though he knew Ha-jin would never agree. In his head, he was already calculating how to find the best hospital.
What a fucking lunatic.
Disgusted with himself for thinking such selfish thoughts, he suddenly realized something else that pissed him off even more.
That in Ha-jin’s list of priorities, Tae-seong wasn’t first. Hell, he probably wasn’t even in the top ten. Just like that garbage-tier rank in the game—bottom of the barrel.
All he could do now was fake his expression like a pro.
“But starting next week, I’m gonna be busier. Personal matters, and some company stuff—got a lot of places to be…”
“Hold on, I got an update from Da-young too. Let me pull up the calendar while you talk.”
“Alright.”
“Ready. Go ahead.”
Following Ha-jin’s lead, Tae-seong started speaking, but the strange sensation didn’t go away. As he watched Ha-jin’s hands move swiftly, diligently entering notes, he couldn’t shake the thought: What the hell are we even doing?
Ha-jin, thinking there’d be something to jot down, had stopped eating and pulled up the scheduler on his phone. It flipped through quickly—monthly view, weekly, then daily. Tae-seong’s entire work schedule was packed in detail.
The only events marked in bright highlighter with stars next to them were personal ones involving Yushin. Ha-jin hadn’t even noticed Tae-seong watching. He erased a label that said “vacation” on today’s date and replaced it with “half-day off.”
Then, under [Work], he carefully wrote down: Lunch with CEO Cheon Tae-seong.
“……”
Technically speaking, it was work.
“For next week…”
Tae-seong trailed off. Ha-jin looked up. The curiosity in his eyes triggered an irrational desire to lean in and kiss them. Pretending to check his phone, Tae-seong kept talking.
“I’ve got a meeting in Paris starting Monday. They want to collaborate on a project with our company. I’ll also meet with some investors while I’m there.”
Ha-jin nodded and checked the schedule. It matched the update he’d gotten from Da-young, so there was nothing to fix. He wasn’t surprised—he’d even prepared his passport ahead of time, having accompanied Tae-seong on overseas trips in their previous life.
Back when he first received the schedule, Yushin’s discharge hadn’t been confirmed, so he’d been worried. But now that Yushin had recovered well and been discharged safely, he could listen with a much lighter heart.
Tae-seong tapped the table with his fingers, calling for him.
“Lee Ha-jin.”
“Yes, sir?”
“You don’t wanna go, do you?”
“…No?”
That one-second hesitation made Tae-seong’s brow furrow deeply.
“Definitely not.”
“Too bad. I’m not taking you.”
“……”
This time, Ha-jin didn’t know what to say. He hesitated, and Tae-seong leaned on the table, resting his chin in his hand. His tilted gaze landed on Ha-jin’s cheek.
“I’ll be fine without you.”
Ha-jin looked confused. He stared down at his phone with a blank expression, a little dip forming in the center of his round forehead. Tae-seong smiled as he continued.
“Once I get back from meeting the investors, I’m planning to put some pressure on the higher-ups. If all goes well, things might start moving. So I’ve got to nail the presentation. Gotta focus.”
Was he saying Ha-jin’s presence was distracting? When Ha-jin looked up again, Tae-seong was smiling like a painting.
“I’ve been thinking, Ha-jin. I think we’re going about this the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?”
Ha-jin was the one who suggested a fake relationship for cover, but Tae-seong had been the one to accept without hesitation. At the time, it seemed like a situation that worked to his advantage—but it was a miscalculation.
Looking back now, Ha-jin was playing his role to perfection. The one who wasn’t committing to it was him. And that made sense—because to Tae-seong, it wasn’t fake.
“We should stop.”
“…What?”
Stop what?
With a dazed expression, Ha-jin looked up as Tae-seong ruffled his hair with a smile. Then he rang the bell and instructed the staff to prepare the takeout order.
Having declared the end of their arrangement all on his own, Tae-seong stood from his seat with a lighter expression.
But Ha-jin just sat there, completely lost, not understanding any of it.
Watching that expression, Tae-seong smiled to himself.
