As soon as their skin touched, that familiar heat began to stir again. When Ha-jin clutched the front of his shirt and took a step back, Cheon Tae-seong clicked his tongue, clearly displeased.
“Lie down.”
“…What?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the gesture toward the bed. Ha-jin remained frozen, and Tae-seong added an explanation.
“You really think this’ll be over in one night? You know damn well how ruts work, so why are you acting so clueless?”
“Ah…”
He had a point. Whether it was a rut or a heat, cycles varied by individual, but they typically lasted about three to four days.
The first rut cycle he experienced with Tae-seong had come and gone in a flurry of confusion—and accidents. And since Tae-seong hadn’t shown many signs, Ha-jin had forgotten all about it.
It also felt like something that belonged to a distant, unreachable part of his life.
“But I usually get over it pretty fast… I’m very heat-resistant…”
He mumbled weakly, and Tae-seong abruptly turned around and walked out of the bedroom. When he came back, he was holding a bottle of water. His eyes scolded Ha-jin silently—Why are you still standing there?—leaving him with no choice but to crawl into bed. The spot Tae-seong had just vacated was still warm.
Tae-seong sat down by Ha-jin’s head, perched on the edge of the bed, unscrewed the bottle cap, and handed it over.
“Can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. That’s weird.”
As Ha-jin took a gulp of water, he nearly choked. His nose stung, and he rubbed it as he noticed Tae-seong watching him closely.
“Well, that’s because you weren’t exactly my romantic interest.”
“That’s a bit unfair. You’re the one who said we should date.”
“That was just for show…”
Maybe he’d pushed it too far this time. But it was already too late to take it back. Tae-seong stared at him, lips tightly sealed. Even after drinking, Ha-jin’s throat still felt dry.
When he glanced up, Tae-seong snatched the bottle from his hands and chugged the rest. He’d done the same at the hospital, casually drinking after someone else. No hesitation whatsoever.
“You ever actually dated someone?”
“…Even if I haven’t, I still know what I need to know.”
The words slipped out reflexively, and Ha-jin winced, thinking he’d made another mistake. But to his surprise, Tae-seong’s face lit up as if he liked that answer.
“If you know that much, then be honest for once, Ha-jin.”
“About what…?”
“Let’s say me, for example. I like you, Ha-jin. Stuff like that.”
He tossed the words out casually, and Ha-jin’s eyes widened.
“Come on, don’t joke around.”
“Why do you think it’s a joke?”
“Because…”
No clear answer came to mind. Tae-seong just smiled as he watched Ha-jin flounder.
Why me?
And yet, it was obvious from Tae-seong’s eyes that he wasn’t joking. If anything, it was Ha-jin’s own wishful thinking that made him want to believe it was a joke. Tae-seong’s expression was utterly serious, and his words dripped with sincerity.
Still, Ha-jin couldn’t picture what would come next. The sheer gap he felt between himself and Tae-seong loomed too large. The pheromones of a dominant Alpha were overwhelming to most people.
And for someone as sensitive as Ha-jin, Tae-seong’s presence felt anything but casual. He was like a flower blooming far out of reach—too high, too distant to touch.
***
So that was a lie, huh?
What had Tae-seong said when he’d asked why Ha-jin bounced around from job to job? That it was because he kept running into Alphas with bad taste.
That he’d never be interested in someone like me.
After washing up, Ha-jin glanced sidelong at Tae-seong, his thoughts tangled. The man had also showered and was now fully dressed in a crisp, clean outfit. Even in a casual linen shirt and comfortable cotton pants, he looked effortlessly good—which probably meant Ha-jin was in too deep.
When Ha-jin suggested going back to the suite where his brother was staying, Tae-seong refused. He’d already instructed Lim Han-soo to tell them Ha-jin was down with a cold.
What are you gonna do about your heat cycle if you go back now? he’d scolded.
Ha-jin had tried to argue that his brother was an adult who could entertain himself. Tae-seong had simply told him to treat it like going to work. With no more arguments left, Ha-jin had ended up staying in Tae-seong’s room.
To make matters worse, Tae-seong didn’t even give him time to protest before calling Professor Joo Yoon-seo. One moment he was on the phone, and less than an hour later, she was knocking on their hotel room door for a house visit.
Ha-jin had been the one who requested a doctor during the heat cycle anyway, so he couldn’t even object.
He remembered the conversation they’d had at Yushin’s hospital room—about her engagement. Something had felt off then, and Ha-jin was good at sensing those things. It wasn’t just his imagination.
In his past life, Joo Yoon-seo had once risked her own body for Tae-seong’s grandfather. Even if you chalked that up to coincidence, there were too many red flags to ignore.
How does Joo Yoon-seo feel about Tae-seong…?
“You didn’t knot, did you?”
Ha-jin jumped like he’d been caught having strange thoughts. He should’ve answered Joo Yoon-seo, who had asked the question, but instinctively looked toward Tae-seong.
“No! I mean…”
“Good. A lot of people end up getting pregnant because they hit an unexpected heat cycle and knot right after.”
She was glancing at a pheromone monitor, jotting down notes on a chart. Her face was hard to read, eyes glued to the screen.
Her tone was cool and clinical, but Ha-jin felt beyond awkward.
After a moment, she glanced at him briefly, then pulled a leather pouch from her bag and laid it on the bed.
She unwrapped a fresh syringe, drew up the medication, but Tae-seong interjected.
“What are you giving him?”
His voice carried an edge, full of suspicion. Yoon-seo turned toward him.
“Oh, it’s just an antipyretic and painkiller. Didn’t you notice his fever? After the first heat cycle, people often get sick. It’s a lot for the body, especially without experience. Plenty of patients complain of pain afterward.”
Even while she explained, her hands moved fluidly—clean, practiced, confident. She gave Ha-jin the shot in one smooth motion, then packed up the used syringe and looked at Tae-seong again.
“It’s an atypical heat cycle, so we can’t use suppressants. Just keep a close eye on him. No going out for at least three days. He’s your employee, so the responsibility’s on you.”
Ha-jin silently studied her profile as she spoke so casually with Tae-seong. When she turned to look back at him, their eyes locked.
Startled, Ha-jin blinked, and she smiled softly.
“Ha-jin, you okay? I know this is sudden… What about your work as a manager?”
“Ah, well… I guess… It’s fine.”
Not even remotely fine. She’d hit right on the biggest worry festering in his head.
When they first agreed to monitor his pheromone condition, Tae-seong had said that whatever the results were, the contract terms wouldn’t change. But now, doing nothing and still receiving a salary made Ha-jin feel uneasy. It made him feel useless. And the amount Tae-seong was paying him wasn’t exactly small.
Besides, I’m not even sure I can handle Tae-seong’s pheromones anymore.
Just remembering the intensity of last night’s rush made his face burn, and heat pooled between his legs. No way he could do that again. His body now knew what that experience felt like. There was no going back.
Yoon-seo seemed to misread his sulky mood as poor condition. She told him to rest and stood up. Ha-jin quickly lay down and yanked the blanket up to his nose, leaving only his eyes exposed.
As she packed up, she gestured for Tae-seong to follow her out. Ha-jin recognized that—it was what doctors did when they had something to say to a patient’s guardian.
He’d always been the guardian. Now, being the patient made it feel oddly surreal.
“….”
No, what felt surreal was how Yoon-seo tugged on Tae-seong’s arm.
Is it weird that I care about that?
Ha-jin pulled the blanket over his forehead.
What’s wrong with me lately…
He felt like an idiot—everything he did felt foolish now. His face was burning under the covers.
He couldn’t look directly at his feelings. He was scared that admitting them would make things more complicated.
He already had a pile of urgent problems: taking care of Yushin, the new drug, money, Kang Sung-oh, the madam…
He was still trying to list reasons why it shouldn’t happen when the blanket was suddenly yanked away. A rush of cool air hit his flushed face. He let out a puff of breath—and there was Tae-seong, grinning down at him.
“What are we gonna do with you, Lee Ha-jin?”
“…What did Dr. Joo say?”
“She said it’d be best to mix pheromones to help stabilize your cycle. Since your first heat came so late.”
In other words, they should have sex.
“That’s a lie.”
“Why would I lie about that?”
Ha-jin rolled his eyes, then gave up and asked bluntly.
“What did you tell her?”
“Tell her what?”
Tae-seong looked genuinely confused.
“About her being your fiancée or whatever. She must’ve gotten the wrong idea seeing… all this.”
Shouldn’t they at least clarify that they didn’t have sex or knot? But Ha-jin couldn’t bring himself to say what he really meant. All he could do was mumble excuses.
“I’m not planning on getting married.”
Tae-seong chuckled and lay down beside him, casually pressing on the bandage where he’d gotten the shot. His fingers gently traced the veins under Ha-jin’s inner elbow.
“And like I said—I only sleep with people I love.”
“What about Dr. Joo…”
Ha-jin let the words trail off.
“She doesn’t feel that way. She flirts with my grandfather for the sake of the hospital.”
“….”
Ha-jin furrowed his brows at the clear-cut explanation. It made him feel like he’d just interrogated someone. And honestly? Now that he thought about it, he didn’t actually care much about Yoon-seo’s feelings to begin with.
“Ha-jin… Want to be my boyfriend?”
