The bright clarity usually in Haram’s sky squirrel eyes was gone. Instead, they were hazy and unfocused, dulled by the alcohol. Lying quietly in Tae-yi’s palm, he stuck out his little pink tongue and smacked his lips. Watching him, Tae-yi let out a soft chuckle and murmured quietly.
“So this is your drunk behavior?”
Da Haram, too inebriated to even chirp, was gently carried by Tae-yi into the main room. The moment he bent down to place him on the blanket-covered floor, however, a stark-white naked body suddenly fell into his arms.
Haram had transformed midair. Caught off guard, Tae-yi quickly adjusted his grip, pulling the now-human Haram close. Holding the small, warm body nestled in his chest for a brief moment, he then carefully supported his smooth back and thighs to lay him down on the futon.
Aside from his flushed cheeks and ears, reddened from the alcohol, Haram’s skin was deathly pale—so fair it was almost colorless. Tae-yi let his eyes slowly trace that powdery white body and ended up laughing quietly at the sight of Haram modestly shielding himself with his silver-gray tail.
He’d even gone so far as to cover himself thoroughly. It was almost disappointing. That little peanut-sized treasure must be seriously treasured.
Perhaps sensing Tae-yi’s obvious gaze, Haram’s tail pressed even more tightly against his body. Tae-yi gave another soft chuckle. He reached out, tapped Haram’s flushed cheek with his finger, and asked,
“Not asleep yet?”
His eyes were closed, and his breathing was soft and steady—it looked like he was asleep.
Even though he was a Beta Beastfolk, his body was far more reminiscent of an Omega. He always wore clothes that didn’t suit his frame—baggy, loose stuff—but underneath, his body was surprisingly provocative. So much so that Tae-yi felt the urge to touch and bite every inch of it.
He’d never once felt attracted to Betas before. But Da Haram had intrigued him from the very first moment they met. And even now, when he was about to leave, that fascination hadn’t faded.
No—it wasn’t just fascination. It was confusion. Especially whenever Haram smiled so innocently. It completely scrambled his thoughts.
They’d only lived together for a week—hardly long enough to fall in love. Tae-yi had never been in love before, but he could tell. It was too soon to be tossing around that word like some clueless teenager.
Still, he wanted to keep Da Haram by his side. But the only real way to screw over Kang Tae-jin was by fighting him for the chairman’s seat. He’d never cared for that position, but eventually, that fight would come. Avoiding it wasn’t an option. If he kept Haram close during that time, it was obvious he’d get caught up in the mess and end up hurt.
Lying beside him on the thick blanket, Tae-yi slid an arm under Haram’s head and gently brushed back his bangs. Then, his gaze dropped to Haram’s chest, softly rising and falling with each breath. His eyes shifted again—this time to Haram’s lips, so moist they looked freshly glossed, even without saliva.
How does someone with a face and body like this end up with a tail and ears? If only he weren’t a Beta.
“Da Haram.”
Tae-yi’s low voice echoed through the small room, its floor covered in yellow linoleum. As he unconsciously called out the name, a small ear twitched atop Haram’s silver hair.
Then, apparently uncomfortable, Haram shifted and reached blindly toward Tae-yi.
His hand brushed across Tae-yi’s firm abs and slowly slid down, eventually grazing the front of his pants. Tae-yi, as if welcoming it, leaned in slightly, making it easier for him to touch. He watched calmly.
“…Eggplant.”
Haram finally mumbled something after all that fumbling—eggplant? Of course. Only a guy who used to grow vegetables would compare it to that.
Chuckling, Tae-yi leaned closer, putting his ear near Haram’s mouth and played dumb.
“You mean… cock?”
At the crude word, Haram’s small hand, which had been gently stroking the front of his pants, slowly retreated.
The teasing touch had left Tae-yi deeply frustrated—it had been hard for a while now. He sighed and gazed down at the intoxicated Haram.
“…Grandma… I picked… eggplant…”
As Haram began another nonsensical sleep talk, Tae-yi held back a laugh and tapped his soft cheek again.
“Picked what? It’s still attached.”
Haram had teased him mercilessly and was now lying there smugly asleep, not even waking up. Tae-yi wanted to mess with him in return. But the silver-gray tail clung stubbornly to Haram’s hips, leaving no opening.
“You’re not gonna pick more?”
“Mmh…”
He tapped Haram’s small nose and asked again. Haram scrunched his brow, groaned like a child, and turned his back on him.
Tae-yi sighed as he stared at the pale, bony back and soft white butt that had turned away from him without mercy. He finally flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
This was frustrating. He was the type to always follow through once something started, but this had been cut off before it could even begin. All he was left with was emptiness.
Turning his head, he looked at Haram curled up like a shrimp, and reached over to pull the blanket up to his neck.
“You damn squirrel…”
He’d dangled all sorts of temptations, only to forget it all come morning. No way he’d remember a single word of that drunk sleep talk.
Drenched in disappointment, Tae-yi rose quietly and left for the smaller room where Haram usually slept.
There, he picked up the phone left on the floor and returned to the living room. Sitting on the sofa, he powered it on—it wasn’t locked. The home screen was the same photo displayed in the living room frame.
The call history was all incoming—no outgoing calls. And even those were spaced out, about once every two weeks. All from locals: the rich grandma with land, the grandma from the blue gate house, the village chief.
He was a painfully lonely sky squirrel.
Tae-yi began to punch in a number without hesitation. But just before hitting the call button, he paused—staring out the window at the rain still pouring down.
Why was he hesitating?
One phone call would be enough. A black sedan would roll up to the front gate in no time.
Was it because of Da Haram?
Leaning back on the sofa, Tae-yi turned his head toward the room where Haram was sleeping.
Maybe… I should at least take care of that before I go.
He deleted the number he had just entered and searched the contacts for “debt collector.” Sure enough, the number was saved under the name “Debt Collector Ajusshi.” Tae-yi hit the call button.
After a few rings, a voice answered. Tae-yi spoke.
“It’s me.”
***
“Mmm…”
As soon as Haram regained consciousness, his entire body felt stiff. He stretched beneath the blanket, then hesitated as he felt the texture of it directly on his bare skin. Carefully lifting the covers, he spotted something a little smaller than an eggplant.
Why the hell am I naked…?
The sky outside had that bluish tint that meant it was still pre-dawn.
Wait… wasn’t this Tae-yi’s room? I gave him this room.
Why am I sleeping here? Where’s Tae-yi?
They had a drink… ate some popcorn… what happened after that?
He couldn’t remember anything. Was this what they called a blackout—like in dramas?
Blinking in confusion, Haram poked his head out of the blanket and shivered from the chilly morning air. He quickly grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe, dressed, and quietly stepped out to look for Tae-yi.
The living room was empty. He must be in the smaller room.
The mugs and popcorn bags were gone—Tae-yi must’ve cleaned up.
Haram was drinking some cool barley tea in the kitchen when he froze at the sound of someone behind him. He turned and saw Tae-yi emerging from the room.
“Drunken squirrel. You’re up?”
Tae-yi’s voice was teasing as he looked at Haram, now fully dressed—unlike the night before.
“Drunken? Me?”
Haram pointed at himself in disbelief. He’d never heard anyone call him that before.
“You see another squirrel around here?”
Tae-yi’s reply made Haram visibly flinch and step back.
“What did I do? I… did something, didn’t I?”
Worried he might’ve made some terrible mistake, Haram glanced up at him nervously. Tae-yi just shook his head and answered,
“You didn’t do anything. That’s what’s disappointing.”
Didn’t do anything…?
Haram wracked his brain. His last memory was crunching on popcorn and tasting that awful infused liquor. What exactly didn’t he do?
Was it because I slept in the main room?
Maybe Tae-yi had to sleep in the small room because of him. That must’ve been it.
“Tonight, you can sleep in the big room again.”
As expected, the blackout squirrel was spouting nonsense at the crack of dawn. Tae-yi only smiled without replying.
Trying to change the subject, Haram asked,
“Why are you up so early? Going to work out?”
Tae-yi nodded awkwardly.
“Go back to sleep.”
“I wanna come too.”
Before he could object, Haram dashed into the room to grab his white socks. Watching him hurry back, Tae-yi sighed. This was not part of the plan.
As soon as they opened the gate, the debt collector would be waiting.
He had a lot of questions to ask, and he didn’t plan to be gentle about it—but he couldn’t do that with Haram around.
Tae-yi looked down at Haram, who was sitting at the entrance, tugging on his socks.
“Just stay home. You don’t need to work out.”
“I think I’ve gained some weight lately. I need it.”
Tying the laces of his sneakers into perfect bows, Haram cheerfully opened the door. His silver-gray tail swayed with every step. Tae-yi followed with a resigned sigh.
“So fresh.”
Rain must’ve fallen until dawn. The morning air was thick with the scent of damp earth. Haram stretched in the middle of the yard, sniffing the air before checking that Tae-yi was behind him. Then he opened the front gate.
“You’re here!”
“Huh…?”
Standing just outside the gate was a man with a white shopping bag, bowing low and offering a loud, unfamiliar greeting. The debt collector.
Startled, Haram froze in place, gripping the gate handle. As he stared in confusion, the debt collector slowly raised his head—and looked just as surprised.
