“Keep it down.”
“So it is true.”
Is it really okay to be this bold about talking back? — but the words were already out of his mouth. This loose-lipped mouth of mine. He tapped his own lips a few times in self-reproach. Then he glanced sideways at Ha-geon, who simply shrugged as if it meant nothing to him.
Guess I was the one who took a joke and ran it straight into the ground. The problem is I was the one who made the joke in the first place. Annoyed at Ha-geon for no real reason, he widened the distance between them.
Not understanding why the gap had suddenly grown, Ha-geon closed it again, puzzled. When Hee-won widened it once more, Ha-geon followed. They kept at it — stretching apart, closing in — as they walked.
“Why do you keep moving away? Don’t go so far.”
“I don’t have pheromones, so I sweat. Don’t come so close.”
“My scent is on you, so it’s fine.”
“How old do you have to be to say something that shameless and out of line, Team Leader?!”
“Thirty-five.”
“Plenty old enough to be shameless and out of line. But still — don’t say that kind of thing to me.”
Without thinking, Hee-won had half agreed with what Ha-geon said — and only caught himself afterward, his cheeks flushing faintly as he picked up his pace and walked ahead. Ha-geon watched Hee-won’s back for a moment — suddenly raising his voice and then marching off like that — before starting to walk again himself.
With his naturally long stride, he caught up quickly, but Ha-geon deliberately didn’t fall into step beside Hee-won. If I walk next to him, he’ll only move even further away.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and followed at a distance. But trailing behind him like this only put Hee-won on edge for no reason. Getting a single meal together is this much work. Now I understand why no one eats with this guy.
Hee-won, who had been looking down at his phone, glanced back at Ha-geon. The flush that had been on his face was already gone. He was just checking to see if Ha-geon was following.
“Team Leader, have you ever gone anywhere on foot?”
“Why — you think every dominant alpha rides around in a foreign car with someone waiting on them hand and foot?”
“Yes, and I figured everyone’s got their own beta they sign contracts with on a whim, too.”
“Well, not everyone — but I do have mine. The one who smells like mint instead of sweat.”
He has no intention of changing that awful way he addresses me. Hee-won swallowed the rising complaint. Just get through the pasta today and never eat with this man again. He made that resolution firmly, over and over.
The whole way out of the building, he could feel people’s eyes flicking toward them. Right, you’ve probably never seen this combination before — a no-pheromone alpha who’s obviously an alpha, and a pheromone-soaked beta who’s obviously a beta. Hee-won barely suppressed the urge to disappear into the elevator mirror.
Ha-geon, for his part, was simply checking something on his phone, unbothered. If only I could pretend we’re not together. Hee-won shifted slightly to the side — and Ha-geon immediately caught him by the collar.
“Where are you going?”
“…To the wall.”
Can you not feel everyone staring at us?
Hee-won couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been on the receiving end of this much heat. He’d never wanted to be, either. How did things end up like this.
Since the team leader beside him was, after all, a parachute hire, people didn’t stare outright — just stole glances — but even that was enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin. Apparently it doesn’t occur to anyone that a new employee having his scent marked by his team leader is a little strange.
Unaware — or perhaps uncaring — that he’d even done it, Ha-geon just kept looking at his phone. And that kept happening the entire walk to the pasta place.
When Hee-won started to step off the curb, Ha-geon pulled him back because a car was coming — and then held him there. When they were navigating by the map and Ha-geon decided he knew a faster route, he grabbed Hee-won’s hand and pulled him along. A clearly alpha man with no pheromones and a clearly beta man drenched in them — and none of it looked the least bit normal.
“Why do you look so exhausted?”
“Because I am…”
“You’re just hungry. Let’s get inside and order.”
Is he genuinely oblivious, or pretending to be? Hee-won assumed the latter. One look at Ha-geon’s faint smile was enough to confirm it. He let out a breath and stepped inside.
Nothing happened while they ordered. Ha-geon placed his order with the composure of a perfectly reasonable person, and once it was in, he set his phone down and watched Hee-won’s face while they waited for the food.
Honestly, I’d have preferred the rudeness of him staying on his phone. Hee-won didn’t know what Ha-geon was trying so hard to maintain good table manners for. We don’t even have anything to talk about.
“Hey — any questions about alphas and omegas? I’ll answer them even if they’re a bit rude. I’m telling you now, I won’t get mad.”
“Uh… well. Do I have to ask something?”
I’m not curious at all — why does he keep doing this? Honestly, there were plenty of things he was curious about — but the truth was, he didn’t want to ask Ha-geon specifically. Because then Ha-geon would use it as an opening to keep the conversation going.
Once or twice was fine, just casual back-and-forth — but too many rounds of this was stressful. This man was the type to answer one question by lobbing two back.
Of course, if Hee-won didn’t ask anything, the man was just as likely to fire three questions of his own. In that case — maybe the move was to ask something that would take him a long time to answer. Hee-won’s mind started working.
He’s not the type to bother me while we’re eating, so I just need to stall until then. The problem was not knowing how long it would take for the pasta to come out.
“What kind of question has you thinking this long? I said you can ask anything.”
It’s not that I’m debating whether to ask — I’m just killing time. Hee-won gave a vague smile and nodded. Smiling is the best move in moments like this.
Whether that awkward smile actually worked, Ha-geon simply smiled back. He’s probably just letting it go. What kind of question would be less embarrassing to ask out in public and still keep this man occupied for a while?
He’s smarter than me either way. Maybe he should just throw something out at random. Overthinking or trying to read the room wasn’t going to do him any good. If he dragged this out any longer, Ha-geon might get annoyed. Nothing good comes from irritating your boss.
“What’s your rut cycle like?”
I wasn’t supposed to ask that. Only after it came out did Hee-won smile with the expression of someone who knew they’d just made a mistake. Ha-geon caught the resignation and the cocktail of negative emotions flickering across that smiling face, and let out a quiet laugh.
What exactly do you find so funny. I just blurted out one of the two questions my boss told me not to ask, completely without thinking. Seeming to sense Hee-won’s quiet spiral of regret, Ha-geon rested his chin in his hand.
He did actually manage to stall until the food arrived. But in that same stretch of time, Hee-won had found himself an entirely new problem to agonize over. Why did I even bring it up — I could’ve just said I had nothing to ask.
He propped his own chin in his hand, mirroring Ha-geon without meaning to, and sank into thought. The server who came to bring their food was visibly thrown off — understandably so. One of them was sitting there smiling, the other with a face twisted in distress, both completely checked out.
“The nineteenth of every month.”
“I — sorry?”
“You asked. The rut cycle. It comes on the nineteenth of every month. So I take scheduled leave that day. In months when I’m under too much stress, there’s about a week’s variance — but it goes back to normal the following month.”
“A week’s variance sounds pretty severe…”
“I always carry medication, so it’s fine. And what’s there for me to be seriously stressed about? Actually, my rut on its own is manageable if I’m left alone — but if there’s an omega nearby, it affects them, so… You’re not eating?”
Telling someone something that requires their full attention and then telling them to eat. Hee-won let out a sigh. This man operates by entirely different rules. He moved his fork without a word.
It was undeniably good, though. Then again, a person who only ever eats quality food — if it meets his standards, of course it’s at least decent.
The nineteenth. That date lodged itself in his brain. I shouldn’t have asked. Hee-won buried his gaze deep into his bowl as he chewed his pasta. Ha-geon watched him quietly.
“Can I ask a question too?”
“You’re going to ask whether I say yes or no…”
And I already went and asked the one I wasn’t supposed to. Hee-won was at a disadvantage on all fronts. Fine — just answer whatever he asks, play along, and don’t lie.
Ha-geon reached over with a napkin and naturally wiped the cream from the corner of Hee-won’s mouth, then rested his remaining hand against his jaw. There it is again, that habit. Hee-won straightened up. The fact that that man just wiped my mouth doesn’t even register to me anymore.
It hadn’t even been that many days, but he could already tell that gesture put people on edge. Not just on edge — it made him incredibly tense. Because every time that gesture appeared, some kind of bombshell statement tended to follow.
“Are you free the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of the second week, two months from now?”
“I — what…?”
I have work…
3
“Noona, you’re a dominant alpha, right?”
“I don’t know what you’ve been seeing and feeling for the past thirty years, dear little brother. I am a proud, strapping dominant alpha of this great nation.”
Chae-won waved a squid leg like a conductor’s baton and cackled. But her eyes on Hee-won held a faint trace of worry. A kid who knew nothing of the world alphas and omegas lived in had been thrown right into the middle of it.
It had only been about a week, but she was proud he’d lasted through it. It was almost baffling how he was holding on — they must have been pulling every trick they had to drive the beta out.
The mint-scented one. She didn’t know who he was or what he did, but it seemed like he was keeping an eye out so her brother didn’t get genuinely harmed. The pheromones he’d been coming home marked with weren’t hostile. If anything, they leaned toward goodwill.
Something a little denser than goodwill, maybe? She couldn’t tell beyond that. He was a careful alpha. He wasn’t being overt about what exactly he felt. Even spending the past few days pretending to be annoyed while quietly analyzing that mint scent over and over — she still couldn’t pin it down.
“I want to ask you something about how an alpha thinks.”
“Why does that sound so dramatic… Do all betas think the same way?”
“That’s not what I’m saying — it’s just that this person doesn’t make sense to me by any standard I have.”
“Then that’s just a guy who’s strange beyond any standard, not some universal alpha thing. In thirty years of living with you, have I ever been beyond any standard?”
“You’ve always been beyond any standard, noona.”
“You little—”
Hee-won laughed, teasing. Chae-won snorted and glared back, laughing too. The kind of banter only siblings could get away with. Right then. So who’s the one throwing my little brother’s entire frame of reference out the window?
The smile faded from Chae-won’s face — she was still chewing on the same piece of squid, long overcooked to the point of being nearly textureless. She was ready to hear whatever was beyond any standard.
