Yeonjun didn’t avert his gaze from Beomwook. From the very beginning to this moment, he had been watching only Beomwook — so it was only right that he couldn’t look away. The corners of his lips kept curling up, and airy little laughs kept slipping out. By now, Beomwook too had a slight buzz going, and he met Yeonjun’s gaze head-on without turning away.
An alpha, he’d said. His was a face where you’d reach for the word pretty before handsome — and yet he had the build of an alpha in perfect form. Beomwook himself, being a beta, would never know firsthand — but surely Yeonjun’s pheromones too would carry a scent that suited him well.
His fair skin had gone red, flushed with alcohol, but it wasn’t unpleasant to look at. Yeonjun, red all the way to his ears, kept giving little smirks and blinking slowly as if studying Beomwook. So this is what it feels like to be a painting hung in a gallery. Or rather — an animal locked in a cage.
“…Is this a habit of yours when you drink?”
“What is?”
“…The staring.”
Under Yeonjun’s tenacious, unhurried gaze, Beomwook let out words he would never have allowed himself to say under normal circumstances. The embarrassment that followed was just an added bonus.
“No, it’s not that. I’m looking because you’re cool…….”
At those words, murmured in a languid, drawn-out voice, Beomwook’s ears blazed in an instant.
“Why? You’re incredibly good-looking… Oh, right! I saw that article too! The ranking of the most handsome second-generation chaebols, or something like that! Did you see it? You were second — no, wait, why second. First place was Seo Ihyeon. Ugh, come on, you’re way more handsome than Seo Ihyeon…!”
“…Yeonjun. I think you’re drunk. I’ll be heading out first.”
He couldn’t take it anymore. Beomwook rose abruptly from his seat. He could feel Yeonjun’s gaze drifting to follow him. Beomwook reached out to grab his phone from the table and put it in his pocket.
“…Ts, tsk!”
Just then, a sound came — the kind you’d make to scold a small child or a tiny animal. Yeonjun scrunched his face and lightly caught Beomwook’s wrist as it reached toward him.
“No. You can’t go. Sir.”
Despite the firm words, Yeonjun’s face was relaxed, smiling. Beomwook could have easily shaken him off and left — and yet he stayed rooted in place, staring down at the alpha in front of him.
“…Fine. I’ll leave once you’ve sobered up.”
In the end, Beomwook sat back down. Yeonjun, who had been sipping at water one glass after another as if it were whiskey, finally nodded with a satisfied smile spreading across his face. Beomwook let out a small sigh. What on earth is this.
There had been a separate reason he’d come up to Yeonjun’s room to begin with. He still needed to hand over the remaining balance that hadn’t been paid yet, and he had to make sure Yeonjun kept his mouth shut about what he’d overheard when Seo Ihyeon had been present. Beomwook spoke first, addressing Yeonjun who was still blinking slowly and watching him.
“Yeonjun,”
“…Sir.”
But Yeonjun opened his mouth at the same time. Their voices, calling to each other simultaneously, overlapped — and Beomwook stopped short with a startled expression, looking at him. Then Beomwook gave a small nod of his head. He intended to hear Yeonjun out first.
“I really…. I’m really, really sorry…….”
Beomwook tilted his glass again and observed Yeonjun. What could there be to be sorry about. At the preamble that gave him no clue whatsoever, Beomwook’s brow furrowed and smoothed, furrowed and smoothed.
“I…, right now, my pheromone control is… a bit off.”
“…Ah.”
“If you were an alpha or an omega right now, it would probably be pretty uncomfortable for you…. Ah, why is this happening….”
The smile gone from his face, Yeonjun frowned and shook his head. As if his body wasn’t listening to him, he even gave his own cheek a light smack. Just as he said — the reason Beomwook felt nothing right now was because he was a beta, incapable of catching Yeonjun’s pheromones. Even so, he still had no idea how to react to the things Yeonjun was blurting out in his drunken state.
“…I see. Is that so.”
Watching Yeonjun down glass after glass of water, that was all Beomwook could manage to say. There couldn’t have been any other intention behind it. It was simply that Yeonjun’s body, soaked through with alcohol, was no longer doing what he told it to.
The era where alphas were expected to be with only omegas had long since passed. The bonding between an alpha and an omega still held — but who one chose to be with was free. Not yet widespread, but he’d heard that in this world, surgeries to change one’s designation existed in quiet, unofficial circles. Marriage was the same. Cases of alpha with alpha, omega with omega, were increasingly on the rise.
But just because the times had changed didn’t mean he needed to read anything into Yeonjun’s words. Yeonjun was clearly drunk, and there was nothing in his words that felt like another intention. If anything, he’d been acting as though embarrassed by his own body for failing to keep its pheromones in check.
Suddenly, a thirst rose up in him. Beomwook slowly passed his thumb over his tight lips and gave a quiet, self-deprecating smile. What right does a beta — who can’t even catch a single pheromone — have to be thinking like this. It was clearly Beomwook himself doing something foolish.
“Yeonjun. I think you’ve sobered up a bit, so I’ll say what I came to say. First — all the articles connected to you have been taken down. Your personal information, anything related to you — none of it will be findable anymore. So until things quiet down, it would be best to deny to anyone around you that there was anything between us.”
Beomwook spoke in a low, measured voice. He had let too much time pass — but the reason he had come here was one thing and one thing only.
“I as well will say only that you and I had a personal acquaintance. Nothing more than that.”
“There were so many articles…, are they all really gone?”
Yeonjun’s face came into focus — the flush had settled somewhat. His words, which had been slurring, had found their normal pace again. He seemed to be sobering up bit by bit.
“Yes. That’s correct. But I’ll keep monitoring continuously. I’ll make sure none of this ever comes back to harm you. And I’ll assign a private bodyguard to ensure your safety as well.”
“…….”
“And regarding the remaining balance I promised to pay you — I’ll be adding more on top of what we originally agreed. Secretary Choi will deliver it to you. It’ll be an amount you won’t be disappointed with.”
“…….”
“I’m only telling you now because things were so hectic. I’m sorry about that, Yeonjun.”
Beomwook finished speaking and gave a brief bow of his head before lifting it again. But from a moment ago, Yeonjun’s responses had gone silent. Puzzled, Beomwook brought his gaze back to meet his eyes directly. Baek Yeonjun. He was still watching him, without pause. But the last of what needed to be said still had to be finished. Beomwook continued in a slightly lower voice.
“And the things Seo Ihyeon said at that time — you must never, under any circumstances, mention them anywhere. I’m telling you this for your own sake.”
At that, Yeonjun — who had been sitting in silence — stirred, and let out a short breath. At the same moment, when he blinked his eyes shut and open again, the inner fold of his eyelids trembled faintly. And at the same time, his lips, which had been pressed firmly shut, came open.
“That…sounds like a threat.”
“If it came across that way, I apologize. But,”
“Sir.”
Yeonjun, who had been leaning back against his chair, cut Beomwook off and suddenly leaned forward. Then he rested his right elbow on the table and propped his chin lightly in his palm. With a languid expression, blinking slowly, he spoke.
“What you said in the car earlier. That you’d take responsibility for me…, is that still on the table?”
Beomwook’s eyes widened involuntarily. Of course he had said he’d take responsibility, and the meaning behind those words still held. But the problem was that Yeonjun’s manner right now looked faintly suspicious. Even so, Beomwook slowly nodded. It was a response as inevitable as a foregone conclusion.
“I don’t need the money… I’d rather have you protect me personally — not Secretary Choi or a bodyguard, but you.”
“…Yeonjun, what do you mean by that.”
Yeonjun, who had straightened up without his noticing, continued in a voice pitched slightly higher than before.
“Secretary Choi is the person you trust most — but I’m sorry to say… that’s not the case for me. I can only trust you.”
Beomwook felt something catch in his throat. Startled, he instinctively drew back.
I can only trust you.
Why on earth is his heart thundering so violently at that sentence. He drained the glass of water that had been sitting in front of Yeonjun in one go. Exhaling slowly as his breathing found its way back to something steady, he spoke.
“So what is it that you want me to do.”
At Beomwook’s question, color rose into Yeonjun’s face. It was plain to see how the corners of his lips lifted. What was it that put him in such a good mood. Beomwook couldn’t quite understand — but he decided to simply accept it now.
Yeonjun, who had been facing him, reached his hand out toward Beomwook. His right arm extended forward, palm facing up.
“Give it to me. Your phone.”
