5) The Boundary of the Unreal
Morning came, as faithfully as ever, dragging along the duty of going to work. Something felt different than usual, but Ha-jin forced himself to move mechanically, just like always.
To be fair, it hadn’t been “like always” since he reunited with Cheon Tae-seong—there hadn’t been a single peaceful day. But the reason today felt especially different wasn’t just because of the chaos Tae-seong brought into his life; it was because Tae-seong had done a sudden 180 and completely changed his attitude.
“You might be disappointed, but I’m not taking you.”
“I’ll be fine without you.”
Wasn’t he the one who used to say his heart skipped irregularly and his body ached if Ha-jin wasn’t around? What the hell had made him exclude Ha-jin from next week’s business trip?
The unease gnawed at Ha-jin, and apparently, he was the only one bothered by it. Cheon Tae-seong was acting completely normal. If anything, it was Ha-jin who had to watch him even more carefully than usual.
What was he thinking? Or rather—what the hell had gotten into him? Having to stay near the man only made the swirling thoughts in Ha-jin’s head grow bigger, refusing to die down.
“Come here. Time for your pheromones.”
7 a.m. That low, rasped voice called for him.
Cheon Tae-seong lay buried in stark white bedding. One smooth shoulder peeked out from the cloud-like mess of tangled sheets. His hair was tousled over a tilted face, strands sleek and wild at once. As he slowly sat up, the sheet slid down, revealing a broad chest and sharply lined abs.
He draped one arm casually over the pillow and gestured for Ha-jin to come closer.
“There’s no need for us to be this close.”
Ha-jin muttered his usual, pointless protest and stepped forward, only to be gently pulled in by Tae-seong’s hand, fingers weaving around his. He dropped onto the mattress with a soft plop, and almost instantly, Tae-seong leaned his forehead on Ha-jin’s shoulder and released his pheromones like a spoiled beast craving affection.
“……!”
At moments like this, Ha-jin had no choice but to stay still. He just had to wait until Tae-seong was satisfied—eyes averted, breathing slowly, letting the dense pheromones wash over him.
The hand that had been resting on the pillow was now loosely wrapped around Ha-jin’s waist. His fingers grazed the back of Ha-jin’s hand, seeking silent permission.
Ha-jin didn’t resist. And in that passive compliance, Tae-seong’s arm grew warmer, his bicep tightening just slightly around him.
“…….”
It wasn’t sexual. Not clearly, anyway. What made that distinction was the line Tae-seong never crossed. The way he deliberately held back. His intention was clear—he wanted to transfer pheromones and leave a strong mark of territoriality. But before Ha-jin could start to feel anything strange, Tae-seong always pulled back cleanly.
Fixing his hair after he showered had become Ha-jin’s self-assigned job at some point. In their previous life, it started as a way for him to keep his job—he’d worked up the courage to suggest it.
“If you don’t mind, I could help you get ready in the mornings. Light physical contact can be stabilizing, and it might help you get used to me faster.”
“…Sure, why not.”
Because Cheon Tae-seong was a dominant Alpha among dominant Alphas, his pheromones were stronger and more distinct than most. That had been the reason Ha-jin proposed it. But thinking back now, he realized he’d given Tae-seong special treatment from the very start.
Because the pay was high. Because his pheromones smelled divine. Because his face was too beautiful. There were endless reasons for the favoritism.
“Do I just sit here?”
When Ha-jin first suggested fixing his hair, Tae-seong had only blinked a little in surprise. Even in this life, he didn’t question it. He just obediently sat where Ha-jin led him.
After tidying up Tae-seong’s messy hair, their next step was always breakfast together at the table. Ever since Tae-seong insisted they eat together, it had become routine. That was one thing that had changed from their past lives.
Back then, Tae-seong rarely ate breakfast. And even when he did, Ha-jin wasn’t part of the picture—he only waited in the background.
Ha-jin had only seen him eat in the mornings a handful of times. So now, every time they sat across from each other at the table, he was freshly struck by it. And it served as a sharp reminder that he had returned to the past.
Once breakfast was over, Tae-seong headed back into the dressing room. Ha-jin quietly followed, watching as the man selected his watch and tie. Suddenly, Tae-seong, tie in hand, called for him.
“You said before that light physical contact helps with adjustment, right?”
“Yes.”
As Ha-jin nodded, Tae-seong slowly unraveled the silk from around his fingers and asked again.
“Then will you tie my tie for me?”
“Oh, yes. Give it to me.”
It wasn’t a big request, so Ha-jin answered readily and took the tie from him. But for some reason, Tae-seong’s face looked a little sour.
Ha-jin stepped up on the small footstool and met his gaze. He popped the shirt collar and wrapped the deep navy tie around his neck. His eyes focused with careful precision, gauging the silk’s length as it slid around like a smooth serpent.
With steady fingers, Ha-jin tightened the knot into a neat, clean shape. And Tae-seong, who had been silently watching the whole time, finally muttered in a grumbling tone:
“You’ve done this a lot. How many guys’ ties have you tied?”
“Hundreds? No, probably a thousand times.”
Tae-seong’s eyes lifted, his expression stiff. Ha-jin, oblivious and proud of his skill, had answered too innocently—and quickly tried to backpedal.
“When I was younger, I lived with Mari noona for a few years—you know, CEO Kwak. Her kid went to an elementary school that had a strict dress code requiring ties… It was one of those weirdly intense schools. So, I ended up learning it by doing. I took charge of getting him to and from school every day to earn my keep.”
He babbled on, fingers still deftly tying. The knot was finished in no time. Staring at the result, Ha-jin furrowed his brow. Why had he said all that? His tongue really did run too long sometimes.
Maybe it was the surprise of learning that Kwak Mari had a school-age kid, but Tae-seong’s stiff expression softened again. The corner of his lips curved into a playful smirk.
“Before you were an Alpha-sitter, were you a babysitter too?”
“Kids are easier.”
Alpha-sitter, huh? Ha-jin burst into laughter. Maybe caring for others was his calling after all. As that thought passed through him, Tae-seong met his eyes and smiled back with a gentleness that lit up his whole face.
After getting the freshly groomed Alpha to work, his subordinates stood and greeted him en masse. As Tae-seong walked through, several secretaries followed close behind, rattling off their morning reports.
Ha-jin trailed a step behind, staying slightly off to the side. Once Tae-seong settled in and began his morning tasks, Ha-jin slipped into his own space tucked behind the office.
From there, the rest of the day followed a mostly repetitive routine.
He’d check Tae-seong’s pheromone condition between meetings, make sure he took his meds when he forgot, and otherwise sit quietly in his designated space, waiting for the next call. Things might ramp up once his rut period came around, but for now, it was relatively calm.
Which meant the emptier his schedule, the more room there was in his head for stray thoughts.
Ha-jin sank into the big leather chair at his desk, idly tapping the surface with his toes. The chair, surprisingly smooth despite its weight, spun lazily in place. He swayed back and forth in it like a cradle, spinning a pen between his fingers.
Why is he not taking me with him?
He wasn’t too worried. Nothing particularly eventful had happened abroad in their past lives either. And though things had changed since he returned, Tae-seong had plenty of capable bodyguards around him…
Besides, Ha-jin still had a recovering younger brother. The doctor had advised him to stay close and avoid staying out overnight. Being home morning and night was better for both himself and Yushin.
If this was a surprise vacation, all the better. He hadn’t told Yushin yet, but the kid would definitely be thrilled.
So yes, logically, he should be welcoming Tae-seong’s decision with open arms. It was a net win. No downsides at all. So why did it keep bothering him?
Should I just ask him directly?
It’s not like he thought Tae-seong was having second thoughts. Their newly signed contract explicitly stated the term, and they still had over two years left. There was no hint of him wanting to cancel the pheromone management agreement.
“……”
Ha-jin let out a quiet, dry laugh. Here I was, trying to run away from him—and now I’m worried he doesn’t want me around?
Just then, a shadow fell across the partition in front of his desk. Even flipped in the frosted glass, it was unmistakably Cheon Tae-seong.
But instead of walking in, Tae-seong poked his head over the partition and gave a light knock with his big hand—knock, knock.
Ha-jin straightened up quickly, and Tae-seong’s lips curled into a soft, easy smile. The moment that smile made him space out, Tae-seong tapped the partition again to snap him out of it.
“Come on. We’ve got somewhere to go.”
