“I could tell from your eyes.”
“M-my eyes?”
“Yeah. Your face looked just like a puppy greeting its owner. It wasn’t hard to tell you liked him.”
At the kind explanation—complete with a metaphor—Han-gyeom sucked in a sharp breath. This was completely his fault. Back when he had only watched Won-hyeok from afar, he had tried his best to suppress even his breathing and expressions in case anyone noticed he was following him around. But ever since they started dating, it seemed that hadn’t been going so well.
He thought he had tightly locked everything down in every possible way so he wouldn’t give anything away, but he hadn’t managed to control the feelings that had slipped out through the cracks.
“You figured out we’re dating just from that?”
Still, something felt a little strange. If Han-ul had noticed that look in his eyes, then instead of “You’re dating that sunbae, aren’t you?” wouldn’t it be more natural to say, “You like that sunbae, don’t you?”
“There was another reason that made me suspicious.”
Han-ul placed some fully cooked tteokbokki and fish cake onto Han-gyeom’s plate. Steam rose in soft wisps from the bright red broth against the stark white dish.
“I’ll say this first—I’m an alpha.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Han-gyeom nodded casually.
“When I first saw you in that group assignment for our liberal arts class, I could feel alpha pheromones from you.”
“Huh?”
“At first, I thought it was just from classmates or people around you. But even when I ran into you at the library, I kept sensing pheromones from you.”
Pheromones? Han-gyeom tilted his head, not quite understanding.
“Sometimes emotions get carried in the pheromones people give off.”
Pheromones were one of the innate traits of those with secondary genders. The commonly known idea was that “pheromones come out when you’re aroused,” but what that really meant was that when emotions fluctuated, the pheromone glands reacted and released them.
Most of the time, that happened when someone was sexually aroused or overwhelmed by anger or other negative emotions to the point of losing rationality, but there were occasional exceptions.
“The pheromones around you felt really warm.”
If he had to describe it more precisely, they even felt affectionate. To Han-ul, who was also an alpha, that sensation was no different from love.
Han-ul was a dominant alpha, just like Won-hyeok. Because of that, his nervous system was extremely sensitive to the emotions carried in pheromones and their intensity. That’s how he knew—what kind of emotion was always faintly lingering in the pheromones around Han-gyeom.
“And the moment I realized that sunbae was the source of those pheromones, I had a feeling.”
Han-ul blew lightly on a piece of rice cake before popping it into his mouth. But Han-gyeom still couldn’t quite follow. He felt a little apologetic, but things like emotions carried in pheromones were beyond him. He was a beta, after all.
“Warm pheromones?”
“Yeah.”
“Then… wouldn’t that just be because Won-hyeok sunbae is an incredibly nice person?”
“…Huh?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected answer, Han-ul stopped mid-chew.
“Sunbae is really kind and gentle. So I thought maybe that’s just how he is naturally. And since I’ve been around him a lot lately, maybe that pheromone scent rubbed off on me.”
“Why would you think that? You said you’re dating anyway.”
“T-that’s true, but I’m not really sure how sunbae feels about me. I like him way more than he likes me. And Han-ul, I’m a beta.”
Han-ul’s eyes widened noticeably. It seemed he had also assumed Han-gyeom was an omega.
“I heard that leaving pheromones behind like that is kind of an alpha instinct… something they only do to omegas. But I’m a beta, so I don’t think it’s that kind of intention.”
As a dominant alpha, Won-hyeok would naturally feel stronger instincts and attraction toward omegas than other alphas. So Han-gyeom believed there was no way he would knowingly release those kinds of pheromones toward someone he knew was a beta.
“Wait… you’re a beta?”
“Yeah. Surprised?”
Han-gyeom grinned playfully, but Han-ul was left in genuine shock.
He had naturally assumed Han-gyeom was an omega, which was why he thought Won-hyeok had intentionally left those pheromones on him. Usually, when someone carried that kind of scent, other alphas would back off, recognizing that the person was already “claimed.”
Of course, it wasn’t impossible for a beta to carry pheromones with that kind of implication, but as Han-gyeom had said, it was generally something like a territorial mark left by an alpha on an omega.
“……”
Han-ul stared intently at Han-gyeom as he chewed his tteokbokki.
From a young age, people with secondary genders received strict training in controlling their pheromones. Even though they made up a small portion of society, accidents caused by pheromones could have significant social consequences.
But they were still human. There were times when they couldn’t control their emotions, and in those moments, pheromones would leak out. Sometimes, they weren’t even aware it was happening.
Based on everything Han-gyeom had just said, there was only one conclusion.
Won-hyeok hadn’t intentionally left his pheromones on Han-gyeom. They had undoubtedly leaked out unconsciously.
Which meant that Do Won-hyeok—despite being a dominant alpha—had ignored omegas, who were supposedly closer to instinct, and instead released such affection-filled pheromones toward a beta.
Without even realizing it.
“H-Han-gyeom.”
“Yeah?”
“I think that sunbae really, really likes you.”
Han-gyeom, who had been chewing with his lips pressed together, slowly came to a stop. He stared blankly into the air for a moment, then broke into a bright, carefree smile.
“I wish that were true! But even if it’s not, it’s okay. I like him a lot.”
It seemed Han-gyeom had taken Han-ul’s sharp analysis and conclusion as nothing more than friendly reassurance.
And so, the tteokbokki continued to bubble away, fueled by two completely different dreams.
***
“Yeah, if you use your hands to hold your eyelids open like that, it’ll be easier.”
After finishing their meal, the two of them went into a nearby cafe. A yogurt smoothie sat in front of Han-gyeom, while Han-ul had an iced Americano. With their drinks set down, Han-gyeom was now receiving a lesson on how to put in contact lenses.
“It’s harder than I thought…”
“It’s only like that at first. You’ll get used to it.”
With Han-ul’s guidance as support, Han-gyeom struggled for a few minutes before finally succeeding in putting the lenses into both eyes.
“I—I did it.”
Han-gyeom smiled brightly, clearly delighted at his success. At that, a few people seated at nearby tables glanced over at him and began whispering among themselves. Some even murmured that he looked like a trainee idol.
“So? It feels more comfortable without glasses, right?”
“A little?”
He absentmindedly fiddled with the glasses resting on the table. It really did feel lighter without anything sitting on his face. If he wore lenses, he wouldn’t have to deal with fogged-up glasses when eating hot food, and the more he thought about it, the more advantages there were. It made him wonder why he’d never considered it before.
“H-hey, Han-ul. Can I ask you a favor?”
Blinking his still unfamiliar-feeling eyes, Han-gyeom carefully watched Han-ul’s reaction.
“What is it?”
“Could you keep it a secret that I’m dating sunbae?”
Han-gyeom stirred his smoothie timidly. Listening to the soft crunch of crushed ice, he recalled the condition Won-hyeok had set when they started dating: they wouldn’t interfere in each other’s personal lives. More than anything, he wanted to respect Won-hyeok’s wish to keep their relationship hidden from others.
“If you’re asking, of course I will—but why? Is it like… a secret relationship or something?”
“Uh… something like that. Sunbae wants it that way too.”
Taking a sip of his cold coffee, Han-ul found himself wondering just what kind of relationship those two really had.
“I mean… as you can see, I don’t really have anything going for me. And sunbae is my complete opposite.”
There were people like that sometimes—people who didn’t even recognize the strengths they had and simply drifted through life. Han-ul was certain Han-gyeom was exactly that type. If he had to guess, if Han-gyeom started social media with that face of his, he’d probably surpass Han-ul’s follower count in no time.
“Let’s say that sunbae really does think that way. Wouldn’t that bother you?”
“No. It wouldn’t.”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation. His answer was so certain that even the one who asked the question felt taken aback.
“I’d like whatever sunbae does. And I’m confident I’ll keep liking him.”
Han-ul found himself recalling the impression Won-hyeok had left on him. He definitely had the kind of looks you’d expect to see in a movie, with great proportions to match. And considering the gentle smile he always wore, it was easy to understand why Han-gyeom had described him as “really kind.”
But somehow, describing Do Won-hyeok that way alone felt… off.
Still, Han-ul found himself feeling a little envious of him. It wasn’t easy to receive such trust-filled affection from someone like that.
“Alright. If you’re okay with it, then I don’t mind. Should we get going?”
“Yeah.”
After chatting a bit more about trivial things, the two left the cafe as evening approached. Coincidentally, Han-ul also lived alone near the university, and his studio apartment was in the neighborhood right next to Han-gyeom’s. In terms of distance, it seemed he lived closer to Won-hyeok.
Riding the same subway and walking the same streets, Han-gyeom and Han-ul talked nonstop. Despite his intimidating first impression, their tastes in hobbies and dramas matched surprisingly well, making the conversation genuinely enjoyable.
“I live here.”
Han-gyeom pointed at his studio apartment building, which he reached first.
“Get home safe. See you in class.”
“Yeah. Thanks for today, really.”
Han-gyeom waved energetically. But just then, a sharp pain shot through his right eye.
“Ah…”
“What’s wrong?”
Han-ul, who had been about to leave, immediately turned back and stepped closer to him.
“I—I think something got in my eye.”
“Don’t rub it. Let me take a look.”
If dust or a foreign substance got into an eye with contact lenses, it could sting even more than usual. Han-ul bent down to match Han-gyeom’s eye level and instinctively grabbed his wrist when he tried to rub his eye. Then he carefully examined the one that hurt.
Naturally, Han-ul cupped Han-gyeom’s right cheek, gently pulling down under his eye with his thumb as he leaned in closer. Since he hadn’t brought any artificial tears with him today, he figured he’d at least try blowing on it.
With his lips close to Han-gyeom’s eye, he blew softly, when—
From afar, the loud roar of an engine echoed. As the sound rapidly drew closer, both of them instinctively turned their heads.
Keeping his stinging right eye shut, Han-gyeom looked toward the source of the sound.
A sleek, expensive sports car—completely out of place in front of his apartment building—came to a stop.
