Humans have a tendency to instinctively reject anything different from themselves. It’s just part of their nature. That’s why an invisible wall existed between Betas, Alphas, and Omegas. While plenty of people treated them normally, there were always more who didn’t.
It wasn’t always out of malice, but still, Tae-rim had been hurt by it enough from a young age that he learned not to mention his secondary gender unless he had to.
Maybe that’s why he’d just assumed he needed to keep it hidden here, too. But the truth was, he wasn’t like ordinary people anymore—he was an Awakened. And the Center, the place he now called home, was filled with Awakened like him.
He wasn’t sure how other Awakened might react, but if it was the researchers, they’d definitely go wild over it. They’d get that look in their eyes, saying they finally had something new to study—especially when it came to his and Seon Juho’s unusual compatibility.
“Yeah. The doctors would totally love that,” Tae-rim muttered.
“Right?”
Seon Juho grinned, as if to say See? Told you, then pulled Tae-rim into his arms. He took in a long, deep breath, inhaling Tae-rim’s pheromones like they were oxygen.
“Hyung, you smell amazing.”
“Uh… r-right.”
“Hehe.”
Honestly, I love your pheromones too, Tae-rim wanted to say. But the words caught in his throat. Still, something inside him relaxed. Eyes blinking slowly, he leaned into Seon Juho’s embrace. That wasn’t so bad. Why was I so scared to say it out loud?
“But Hyung,” Juho said suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“What’s an Incomplete Imprint?”
Tae-rim nearly gasped. He held it in, but it felt like his voice might tremble at any second.
“Incomplete Imprint?”
“Yeah. I heard those people talking about it. They kept saying something about an Incomplete Imprint. But if it’s an imprint, it’s an imprint, right? What makes it ‘incomplete’?”
“Well, um…”
It was a sharp question, and Tae-rim was genuinely caught off guard. But he tried to respond as casually as possible. As Juho released him from the hug, Tae-rim quickly composed his expression.
“You don’t know either?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“If you’re lying, I’m gonna stick my face between your legs and sniff.”
“Hey!”
“Eek!”
Tae-rim shoved him hard, and Juho let out a playful whine.
“W-Who even taught you stuff like that?!”
“In the Esper lectures. And anyway, that’s where your pheromones are strongest.”
This kid. Just look at him—so damn shameless. Tae-rim was completely speechless.
“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll ban you from smelling me at all!”
“Hey! That’s not fair!”
“It’s more than fair.”
“But Hyung, I’m your Alpha, right? You have to take responsibility!”
“T-That’s…”
Considering Seon Juho likely became an Alpha because of him… well, yeah, Tae-rim probably did need to take responsibility…
“That’s a separate issue, you brat! What kind of nonsense are you spouting in front of your Hyung?!”
“I’m just saying you smell good because you do!”
“Quiet already!”
Tae-rim grabbed a pillow and shoved it between them like a wall. Then he declared,
“Punishment. If you cross this pillow tonight, we’re sleeping in separate rooms.”
“Hyung!”
“And don’t you dare—d-don’t go saying stuff like that about my legs again! One more word and you’re getting scolded!”
Throwing the blanket over himself, Tae-rim turned his back. Even though Juho kept calling him, Tae-rim ignored it and pretended to fall asleep.
The next morning.
Tae-rim woke up feeling awkward as hell. The bed felt unusually stiff, so he opened his eyes… only to realize he’d fallen asleep on top of Seon Juho. His nose was buried in Juho’s collarbone, and he’d apparently slept like a baby.
“I didn’t do anything. You came over on your own.”
That’s what Juho said, but his arms were wrapped tightly around Tae-rim. Without hesitation, he placed a gentle kiss on Tae-rim’s head and pulled him in closer.
“You like my scent too, right, Hyung?”
“……”
Given the situation, it was hard to deny. And after explaining all about Alphas and Omegas last night, Juho had grown bold—totally confident in his own pheromones. Tae-rim sat up without a word, only to be greeted by Juho’s smug grin. Tae-rim’s eyes narrowed.
“Liking someone’s pheromones is just instinct. That doesn’t mean your feelings will follow.”
“Huh? So… you don’t like me?”
“……”
God, this is infuriating. He wanted to shout “No, I don’t!”, but the words wouldn’t come out. Guess that’s what happens when your match is too good—you can’t even lie. Tae-rim smacked Juho’s chest.
“Ow!”
“Don’t be dramatic. That didn’t even hurt.”
As Tae-rim climbed off him, Juho suddenly sat up and wrapped him in a back hug.
“Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m an idiot, but I love everything about you—your scent, your voice, everything. I love you enough to die for you, Hyung.”
Tae-rim’s heart skipped a beat. His face flushed red. What the hell is with this kid and his sneak attacks? His chest thudded uncontrollably.
“Why are you saying such nonsense first thing in the morning?”
“It’s not nonsense.”
A kiss landed on the back of his neck, and Tae-rim swallowed hard.
“You know I’ve been holding back a lot, right?”
“……”
“And instead of praising me for it, you’re always scolding me.”
“That’s because you keep doing things worth scolding…”
“But you know I love you so much, I can’t hate you—no matter what you do.”
“……”
That’s not fair, Tae-rim thought, sighing deeply. Maybe it was the pheromones again, but he just couldn’t lie. After a bit of squirming and hesitation, he finally opened his mouth.
“I… I can’t hate you either.”
“Hyung!”
“Oh, for crying out loud—just drop it!”
He covered his face with his hands, but Juho turned him around and gently peeled them away. Tae-rim’s face was bright red.
“I like you, Hyung.”
“……”
“I love you. So, so much.”
His face turned an even deeper shade of red. Tae-rim had known how Juho felt, but hearing it out loud again made it unbearable. It was so embarrassing he wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. But Juho held him tight, and Tae-rim couldn’t move an inch.
“You don’t have to say anything back.”
Juho leaned in, his face close. Tae-rim shut his eyes as the pheromone scent grew heavier. Soft lips pressed against his.
“Because I already know.”
Tae-rim was pushed back under Juho’s weight as the kiss deepened. Without a word, Tae-rim slid his arms around Juho’s neck.
***
“Kids these days are seriously something else. They only ever pick up the worst habits.” Yoon Ye-rin rubbed her arms like she had goosebumps.
“Esper Kwon Hae-beom may’ve lost a bit of weight, and yeah, it dulled his looks a little, but he’s still handsome! And she had the nerve to call him an old man?”
“To a sixteen-year-old, twenty-five probably does seem ancient.”
“If you’re good-looking, you’re automatically an oppa or unnie! That’s just how it works!”
“It’s really that bad?”
“Yeah. She straight-up looked him in the face and said, ‘You’re not that attractive, so at least shave off that beard.’”
Kwon Hae-beom had recently been assigned a new Guide. Whether that was a blessing or a curse… no one could really say. The new Guide was a kid—only sixteen years old—and brutally honest to a fault.
“I should’ve known when she said, ‘Why do I have to be this old man’s Exclusive Guide?’”
“Exclusive? She’s not even old enough to officially work. She’s just helping out on a temporary basis. No one ever said she was his permanent Guide.”
“Sounds like someone nearby ran their mouth again.”
“She’s too young to understand yet. If she ever becomes an actual S-rank Exclusive Guide, she’ll realize the kind of money we’re talking about is on a whole different level.”
You can’t work as a full-fledged Guide until you’re nineteen. Before that, you’re just a student. The Center sometimes makes exceptions internally, but no one under nineteen is allowed in the field.
So at best, they’re temporary assistants—not full employees.
“Esper Kwon Hae-beom must be cursed when it comes to Guides…”
Before Choi Jiwoon came along, he struggled endlessly to find someone compatible. And when Jiwoon did show up, it turned out he was a fake. Then finally, another potential Guide appeared… and she’s a loud-mouthed sixteen-year-old. Anyone could see the guy had the worst Guide luck imaginable.
“She still hasn’t greeted any of us, you know?”
Because she was technically still a student, Kwon Hae-beom only received Guiding from her once a day at a fixed time. It was basically just practice. So she’d come to the A-rank Guide lounge at the scheduled hour—but even on her first day, she made quite the impression.
She walked into the room, looked all the Guides up and down, scoffed, then plopped down at an empty table. Took out her phone. Started playing a game. Not a single greeting.
Guides weren’t overly obsessed with seniority or hierarchy—they generally got along just fine. But that little brat? She lit a match and tossed it right in.
Even in a laid-back environment, a simple hello is basic courtesy. Everyone was understandably annoyed.
And when someone finally said something, all she replied with was, “I don’t make friends with aunties and uncles.”
Unbelievable. What a piece of work.
“Esper Kwon Hae-beom didn’t say anything?”
“Didn’t even blink.”
“Not like he’d open his mouth over something like that anyway.”
“Maybe that’s exactly the problem. Maybe she was expecting something when she got here…”
“…You think?”
S-rank Espers were national heroes. Just hearing you’d been assigned to one was enough to make your heart race. But then, what if that legendary Esper didn’t even acknowledge you?
