It had been bearable enough while they were eating, but once dessert arrived and the adults began to converse in earnest, Jiwon found the sleepiness unbearable to fight. He had powered through several movies on the plane with the plan of sleeping when he got home, and now his eyes kept drooping shut.
I’m going to face-plant on this table, he thought, and so Jiwon excused himself, saying he’d be back in a moment, and got up from his seat. The fresh air outside helped considerably. It continued to help — right up until a set of footsteps came to a stop beside him.
Ganghyeon, who had been reaching into his jacket pocket to take out a pack of cigarettes, spotted the no-smoking sign in the corner and stopped himself. His gaze naturally drifted over to Jiwon.
He had been curious what kind of person he would be. If he turned out to be unbearably off-putting, it would be miserable for them both. His grandmother, while selecting Jeong Jiwon as the first candidate to meet from among several prospects, had said: This one looks like he has backbone in his eyes. The kind who will surely bear a dominant alpha if he has children.
Well. The feeling was a little different from the photo. He seemed closer to mild-mannered than strong-willed. The face he turned toward the elders as he greeted them with a smile made him look younger than his age. When he smiled, his long, drawn-out eyes folded into crescent shapes and curved gently.
“Why is marriage such a rush for you? You’re still young.”
That question came out rather aggressively. Ganghyeon, hands in his trouser pockets, responded lightly.
“I’m not entirely sure myself.”
“Is it not your own decision?”
“It doesn’t look like you came of your own decision either.”
“……”
Jiwon had fairly refined facial features. His gentle appearance seemed better suited to a softer manner of speaking than the one he was currently using. He was said to be a dominant omega, but he must have had excellent control, because there was hardly any pheromone to sense from him. There was only an unidentifiable, faint sweetness that drifted lightly past the tip of Ganghyeon’s nose.
“Shall we properly introduce ourselves. We might end up getting married, after all.”
From the very first meeting they had come with their mothers, on the premise of marriage — so this was different from a one-time encounter destined to go nowhere. The words wrapped a heavy thing in the lightness of a joke, and in response, Ganghyeon withdrew the hand he had tucked into his pocket and extended it toward Jiwon.
Jiwon readily took that hand in his. A warmth spread across Jiwon’s hand, which had gone cold, soft and steady. The warmth was pleasant enough to tip something ambiguous into something like goodwill.
“Han Ganghyeon.”
“Jeong Jiwon. Nice to meet you.”
After the handshake ended, the hand that pulled away left a faint, hollow feeling in its absence. Shall we go back in? At Jiwon’s words, Ganghyeon gave a small nod. They had come out separately, but when they returned to the private room where the adults were still chatting, the two of them walked side by side. Their tall, straight figures looked every bit like a matched pair from behind.
One of Ganghyeon’s eyebrows arched upward as he opened the door lock and stepped into his officetel. A pair of shoes he didn’t recognize had been left in the otherwise neatly kept entryway. Ganghyeon nudged the carelessly discarded shoes aside with his foot.
“You’re back? You’re late.”
The owner of that slightly high-pitched voice was Choi Yumin. He was leaning back on the living room sofa with a casual wave of his hand, looking perfectly at ease — but Ganghyeon made no effort to hide his displeasure.
“How did you get the passcode?”
“I peeked when I came with Senior Choi last time.”
“When you come to someone else’s home, ask in advance and ring the bell. Do I really need to explain something like that to you?”
Why is he so prickly today. Did work wear him out? Yumin grumbled internally while putting on a glum expression. When he added a sincere, wholehearted apology promising it wouldn’t happen again, Ganghyeon turned his sharp gaze away.
It was interesting to watch him cross the living room — tugging the knot of his neatly tied necktie loose and unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Choi Yumin’s gaze moved over Ganghyeon thoroughly: the broad shoulders, the slender hips, the thick chest, the solid thighs.
He was a dominant alpha that everyone envied — and not just any dominant alpha, but an extreme dominant. The pheromones he normally kept sealed at the level of a shut-off faucet were, when released, so dense and overpowering that words couldn’t do them justice.
Some time after Ganghyeon disappeared into the dressing room, Choi Yumin padded quietly toward the bathroom deeper inside. The sound of water could be heard past the closed door — he was showering. Yumin pulled off the T-shirt he was wearing and let it drop to the floor. A dense wave of omega pheromones drifted out from him. He grabbed the bathroom door handle, intending to follow him inside.
Rattle! Rattle!
The handle wouldn’t turn. He tried again, putting more force into it, but it didn’t budge at all.
“Han Ganghyeon.”
“……”
“Open this door. I need to talk to you.”
“……”
“Hey, seriously, just open the— I’m telling you, I actually have something to say.”
Yumin knocked on the door and called out his name, but Ganghyeon didn’t react at all, as though he had earplugs in. Bastard. After everything we’ve been through together, does he have to treat a person like this.
The firmly shut door finally opened after a long while. Ganghyeon’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of Yumin standing there shirtless.
What does he think he’s doing, standing here like that? Ganghyeon didn’t bother saying it aloud, but the thought carried perfectly through his cold gaze. Choi Yumin’s face flushed.
“……”
Ganghyeon stepped out of the steam-clouded bathroom without a word and strode right past Yumin. Only a large towel wrapped around his lower half, his broad back — wide as a swimmer’s — rippled before Yumin’s eyes. The water droplets trailing down the deep groove of his spine drew the eye without any effort.
“Hey. Han Ganghyeon. Do you not see me?”
Yumin hurried after him and grabbed Ganghyeon’s forearm as he walked toward one side of the dressing room. But the moment he made contact, a strong force snapped his arm away.
“Don’t cling to me.”
“I’m doing this because you’re acting like I’m not even here.”
“Leave.”
“Just like that?”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“Hey.”
Ganghyeon delivered that last word without any feeling and went straight into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. The door shut right in Yumin’s face — and it was obvious no amount of knocking would open it.
Yumin bit down on his lip and glared at the closed bedroom door. Ganghyeon knew how Yumin felt and ignored it thoroughly. Alone together, he was even more brutal.
Do I look like someone who gets treated like this anywhere else? I’ve never been looked down on like this in my life. Yumin ground his teeth, the frustration distant and deep. He had tried countless times to give up his feelings for Ganghyeon, but it was useless. There was nothing to be done about the fact that the one who cared more was always the weaker one. There was nothing to be done about caring for Ganghyeon — cold and self-serving as he was.
“Han Ganghyeon. Call me whenever you have time.”
Even the plea in his parting words was met with not even a goodbye from behind the door. But the pride of knowing that no one held a place closer to Ganghyeon’s side than he did was what kept Yumin from wearing out.
Ganghyeon, dressed in his loungewear bottoms slung low on his hips, raked his fingers through his still-damp hair. Yumin’s limp voice was of no interest to him. Yumin would be back again, acting as if nothing had happened.
The bedroom with its lowered lights was sparse. The only furniture was a bed adjusted to Ganghyeon’s height, a small bedside drawer, and a simple floor lamp. It existed for the sole purpose of sleeping.
When he faintly heard the sound of the front door closing, Ganghyeon came out to the living room. He quickly tidied the sofa and table that Yumin had left in disarray, then changed the door lock passcode to a longer one. The irritation was plain in the hand that pulled the door shut.
People always wanted so much from Ganghyeon. They asked for material things, affection, and even just attention or a smile. If giving a little of that was where it ended, he could have given as much as they liked. But people always wanted more than that. Most of them — like Yumin, who had been acting as though they were something to each other ever since that day — never ended well. Because their families had known each other closely since childhood, he had tried to let things pass, but Yumin never knew when to stop.
Emotional games are exhausting. He didn’t want to be entangled with anyone.
The moment his tired body sank into the sofa, a phone call suddenly rang out. Ganghyeon picked up his phone and let out a short sigh. It was his mother, Mrs. Choi.
“Yes, Mother.”
— Did you get off work?
“Just a little while ago. Why are you still up?”
— It’s about the child from the Jeong household that you met the other day. If they’re not quite to your liking, I was thinking of arranging for you to meet someone from another family instead.
Ganghyeon had been about to reply with an indifferent go ahead, but he paused, pushing his hair back, and held off on his answer.
“How did they seem on their end?”
