“You think someone who studies like absolute shit can get into university just because he’s an alpha? If that kid gets into Hankuk University, I’ll fry my own hand in a pan.”
Suhyeok seemed to get even more heated by Doyun’s question, breathing in agitated huffs as he launched into a passionate rant about how little homework the kid ever turned in. He could understand not doing homework, he added, but what made it even more infuriating was that the excuses were always trait-related things — like presentation or rut — which made it all the more absurd.
“The kid’s in high school, you said? Not studying at all and already pulling that kind of stuff — what’s going to happen to him?”
“Exactly. God, what is he even… the things that come out of a kid that young.”
“What things?”
“Apparently his dad’s friend’s son is a dominant omega, and he says he’s going to get imprinted with him and then get married.”
“Imprinting? I heard people don’t do that anymore. Isn’t it dangerous?”
“I don’t know. He goes on and on about how if you imprint with a dominant, the chances of having a dominant child are this and that. Couldn’t focus the whole tutoring session.”
Suhyeok finished talking and downed the shot of soju Minjun had poured for him.
“A 17-year-old is already talking about marriage?”
Minjun asked back with a dumbfounded expression.
“Yeah. He says trait-carriers get married young, and that if he gets into Hankuk University, he’ll get married right away. Hey, if that kid actually gets into Hankuk University, I’m going to set the admissions office on fire. Don’t try to stop me.”
After finishing his answer, Suhyeok took out his phone and started typing something. It seemed like he’d sent a message to the group chat the four of them were in — just as Suhyeok set his phone down, the phone tucked in the back pocket of Doyun’s pants buzzed.
“Trait-carriers really don’t seem to care about being with someone of the same sex. How can a guy be with a guy…”
Doyun chewed on a snack and muttered quietly to himself. In general, alphas and omegas — those who were trait-carriers — didn’t place much importance on biological “sex.” Regardless of whether the other person was the same sex or the opposite sex, what mattered was having a different trait — that is, alphas and omegas dated and married each other.
Occasionally, same-trait pairings did happen — alpha with alpha, omega with omega — but it was extremely rare. Betas, on the other hand, who had no traits, were naturally expected to pursue opposite-sex relationships.
“Is that just how trait-carriers are? At that age, already picking out who they’re going to marry and mapping out their whole lives?”
For Doyun, whose plans for even today were hazy at best, it was fascinating that people so young already had marriage plans. His thoughts naturally drifted, one after another, to Eunho, who was an alpha. If even a 17-year-old kid was already looking for a partner, could it be that Sa Eunho also had a marriage candidate already lined up? A deep furrow of — well, not quite worry, more like curiosity — carved itself between Doyun’s brows.
“Guess we could just ask an alpha. Hey, Sa Eunho!”
Without anyone noticing when he’d opened the front door, Eunho was walking in from down the hallway. Perhaps because of the still-chilly weather, Eunho was wearing a black cashmere turtleneck that wrapped around his straight, slender neck. It wasn’t a particularly dressed-up outfit, yet Doyun’s eyes were drawn to him anyway. When their eyes met, Eunho’s curved into a pleased arc.
“Long time no see.”
Stepping into the living room, Eunho swept his gaze over Minjun and Suhyeok sitting on the floor, and then Doyun sprawled out on the sofa. When Eunho spotted Minjun leaning back with his head resting against Doyun’s back, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. Suhyeok, who had been popping a snack into Doyun’s mouth, tilted his head up to look at Eunho.
“Look at him, acting all cool. Yeah, yeah, long time no see.”
Even to Suhyeok’s teasing remark, Eunho said nothing as he came and stood in front of the sofa. Unlike Minjun and Suhyeok, who had at least perfunctorily returned his greeting, Doyun kept his lips firmly shut.
Does Sa Eunho have a marriage candidate too? Would they be an omega then? A guy? A girl? Would it be okay if it was a guy, as long as he’s an omega? The thoughts that had just grown so deep were interrupted by the very person they were about — and now facing him directly was mortifying. Eunho, having no way of sensing Doyun’s embarrassment, greeted him again.
“……”
“Hey.”
Eunho held his gaze steadily and persistently on Doyun, even as Doyun tried to turn away. Their eyes met at an awkward angle, and Doyun had no choice but to respond to the greeting. It had been a few weeks since they’d last seen each other, and while part of him was glad, there was still a small corner of his heart that felt a little hurt — which made it impossible to greet him with a bright expression.
During summer break, Eunho had gone abroad for several weeks without even telling him the details of his plans. They had been the kind of people who used to see each other every single day without exception, but then the contact suddenly dried up — honestly, Doyun had been really hurt by Eunho.
“…Oh… long time no see.”
Even though it was quite a stiff greeting, Eunho seemed satisfied, smiling again. Flustered, and with his face growing warm at the same time, Doyun brought his hand up to his earlobe. Just then, Minjun — who had been sitting in front of Doyun — tilted his head back and said to Eunho:
“Oh right. Ddoyun was saying he’s curious whether you have a marriage candidate picked out. Eunho, do you have your whole life plan all sorted out?”
“Hey, when did I ever say that!”
Doyun, who had been lying down, shot upright on the sofa in a fluster. Watching Doyun raise his voice with a red face, Suhyeok shrugged as if to say why are you overreacting. Eunho’s gaze lingered briefly on Suhyeok before slowly turning to Doyun.
“…A marriage candidate?”
Eunho, who had been feigning a serious expression, looked at Doyun’s face and gave a low laugh. Doyun let out an irritated sigh and flopped back down onto the sofa.
“Great and mighty alpha, you’re blocking the light — stop standing there and sit down somewhere.”
As Eunho took one step closer to the sofa, Suhyeok — still sitting on the floor — tapped Eunho’s leg with his fist and said that. The alcohol seemed to be gradually kicking in; Suhyeok’s speech had grown slow and drawn out.
“What’s wrong with Song Suhyeok?”
Eunho looked down at Suhyeok, who didn’t seem to be in great shape, and asked Minjun.
“He went to tutoring today and got totally grilled by a high school alpha, so his brain’s fried. You want a shot of soju too?”
“No, I have to drive. Doyun, can I sit next to you?”
“Look at Yi Doyun, no manners at all — move your butt.”
Suhyeok, who had been tugging at Eunho’s pant leg, turned around and smacked Doyun on the ass. From Doyun came the whining sound of “Ow, that hurt.” Watching that, Eunho grabbed Suhyeok’s hand and pulled it away, saying:
“I’ll figure out where to sit myself. Doyun, I’m sitting next to you, okay?”
At Eunho’s question, Doyun turned over from where he’d been lying face-down and flipped onto his back. He tried to push himself up with his core, but Eunho grabbed both of Doyun’s legs, lifted them, and settled himself underneath. Before he knew it, Doyun was lying with his legs propped up on Eunho’s thighs. Seeing Doyun holding his head up awkwardly, Eunho gave a slight chin-tilt as if to say just lie back down.
“It’s been a while since the two of us spent time together.”
“…Has it?”
Doyun had bent his knees with the intention of getting up, but Eunho’s hand wrapped around his ankle with a subtle but firm pressure, holding him in place. Through the sole of his sock, he could almost feel the firm muscle of Eunho’s thigh underneath.
“Ddoyun.”
“What.”
“Ddoyun.”
“…What.”
“Just because.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, don’t be weird.”
Eunho called Doyun by his nickname. It wasn’t a nickname with any particular meaning — one that got called out multiple times a day — yet when it came from Eunho’s voice, it made Doyun feel a ticklish, fluttery sensation.
Eunho, who had been repeating the nickname again and again in a low, soft voice, pressed his cheek against Doyun’s knee and began absentmindedly rubbing at his calf.
“Na Minjun, let’s have a fair and square match, you and me.”
“Okay, sure. Something different from what we were doing before… want to do this one?”
Minjun and Suhyeok, who always sat on the floor even though there was a perfectly wide sofa available, seemed to be getting into the game in earnest, eyes fixed intently on the screen.
“Doyun.”
“Ugh, what. If you’re going to call my name, say something.”
Eunho nuzzled his cheek against Doyun’s knee. As if to work out the tension in his calf muscles, Eunho kneaded Doyun’s leg with one hand and then lightly stroked it down.
“Doyun.”
“Ugh, what.”
Doyun couldn’t tell whether the fluttery feeling was because of Eunho’s affectionate tone, or because of Eunho’s hands touching him here and there. Meaning to signal stop it already, Doyun tried to pull one leg free — and in that instant, both his legs were caught within Eunho’s arms. He tried to pull free with force, but he couldn’t move at all.
