This bubbling, boiling state of mind was probably partly due to his own shitty personality. Maybe that was even all of it. But to say that Gil Taeseo had no contribution to this situation seemed a bit unfair, didn’t it?
It was very early morning, before Taesol had even woken up yet. Saehyeon sat on the living room sofa, glaring at the bedroom door. Shadows were faintly cast beneath his blearily opened eyes. This was an element he’d been stuck with for a long time after waking up in his ruined body, but had parted ways with a few months ago.
It was embarrassing, but the treatment—as effective as it was—had helped, and the overall improvement in his lifestyle had probably played a part too. His meager meals had become plentiful, and dawn hours were now filled with sleep instead of going to work. Though honestly, there seemed to be more days when he passed out after being tormented by Gil Taeseo than days when he slept peacefully.
But the moment an opportunity arose, the sunken eye bags returned in an instant, as if asking when they’d ever disappeared. The reason was simple.
‘As if I could even get any sleep.’
It was because someone living in this house would occasionally sneak into the bedroom at night. It wasn’t every day, of course. But thinking that he didn’t know when it would happen made him keep tossing and turning, and even when he did sleep, he only managed light sleep.
Click. With the small metallic sound of the doorknob turning, the door opened. At the same time, Saehyeon shot up. It was practically an automatic reflex since he’d been on edge.
Gil Taeseo, who had been raising his head while sweeping back his half-disheveled hair, paused for a moment. It was perhaps a natural reaction since their eyes unexpectedly met head-on, and he was faced with a small dog’s wrinkled nose bridge from so early in the morning.
Soon, the man’s face twisted in exactly the same way, like looking in a mirror.
“What are you doing? Over there.”
“Trying to get a look at that expensive face of yours, why.”
Previously, no matter how much he’d kicked with his feet or pushed with his hands saying he didn’t like it, he’d still stubbornly crawl into the bedroom. But now, countless times he’d clear out and settle into the guest room or kill time in the study.
It wasn’t that he disliked having the bedroom to himself. But it wasn’t like he was simply being left alone, was it? Gil Taeseo’s ambiguous intrusions and attitude had aspects that grated on his nerves even more.
‘Fuck, when he did the same thing yesterday.’
To prevent being carried and moved onto the bed, Saehyeon had been diligently lying down on the bed to fall asleep. But had he let his guard down for a few days? While reading a fairy tale to Taesol, he’d fallen asleep in the chair.
Gil Taeseo had then picked up Saehyeon like a piece of luggage again. It was the same position as when he’d been dragged to the beach from the officetel, cradling him like a small child. And then he didn’t put him down on the bed for quite a while. His liver shrank to the size of a bean in real-time, proportional to how long he was being held up.
‘It’s not like I’m some living dumbbell.’
Saehyeon vented his anger only internally before carefully regulating his breathing. The head resting naturally on his shoulder bothered him. He felt like if his breathing got too heavy, he’d be caught being awake. The chests pressed together also pounded wildly, perhaps from tension. How his asshole had clenched, worried that the drumming heartbeat might be heard by the other person.
“What bullshit. It’s worn out, so knock it off.”
But that only applied to the nighttime Gil Taeseo.
The daytime man snorted and replied coldly. It seemed he’d sold off that previous sticky, sluggish way of speaking for a pittance at a secondhand market.
‘When before, the moment our eyes met he’d pretend not to and give an eye-smile, dragging his feet like he didn’t want to go to work.’
Saehyeon’s lips curled mockingly. Before and now, and day and night. It was only natural to be confused when things kept changing as easily as flipping a palm.
But comparing like this, he kept feeling like a pathetic person who couldn’t forget the good old days.
Whether this side was flustered or not, the man strode forward. Walking mercilessly with those long legs, his strides were considerably large. Saehyeon hurriedly followed after him, watching his back as he traversed the living room in an instant.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Oh, ye-es….”
A familiar bulk was waiting at the entrance. Just as Yoon Changwook was attached to him, Shin Seokwon was attached to Gil Taeseo’s back like a shadow. A man impressive for his door-sized bulk and dumpling-like crumpled ears every time he saw him. Even with that expressionless face, he bowed his head deeply, so Saehyeon awkwardly returned the greeting.
Gil Taeseo, who’d pushed his feet into his smoothly polished shoes, looked back at Saehyeon standing there awkwardly. A frowning expression, lips twisted slightly. In those gracefully extending eyes that stretched in a straight line without even a slight curve, not even a hint of playfulness could be found.
“Why are you following me out like some dog with separation anxiety?”
Every single word was cold, as if a north wind was blowing. His gaze and body were so cold that frost might form.
Saehyeon felt Shin Seokwon standing next to them being careful in a way that didn’t suit his appearance. With that huge bulk stiffening his shoulders, there was no way it wouldn’t be noticeable. What could he be thinking behind those awkwardly rolling eyes? Saehyeon could easily come up with a few possibilities.
Probably the most popular, classic scenario would be… already bored with a toy he’d played with for quite a while.
It was an easy ending to face for an omega with a child that his boss had just brought home.
“Don’t even think about going out again, just stay quietly attached to the house. Before I really put a leash on you and lock you up.”
Gil Taeseo, who’d left that final warning, disappeared out the door. Shin Seokwon, who’d bowed slightly, did the same. Since he was so bulky, the entrance that had been packed tight with just the two of them now only had empty air lingering.
“…Ha. Hah, really. Anyone watching would think I came out to greet him or something.”
At the cheerful sound of the door lock closing, Saehyeon could finally gather his wits. He tried objecting belatedly with a breathless voice, but since there was no one to hear it, it was useless.
“And if I go out, what’s he going to do about it anyway?”
He knew Yoon Changwook would inevitably follow and report. But he’d never agreed to something like… that bizarre leash play.
‘What do they call this again… Day-is-night-ish? Fuck, even a passing stray cat would know this isn’t it.’
This behavior of being chilly during the day and avoiding him like an insect, then at night constantly overlaying pheromones while hugging him and throwing a fit. He’d tried to break through this frustrating situation with conversation. But in the end, he’d just gotten thoroughly beaten down.
“It’s not like he’s playing with a person or anything.”
Returning straight to the sofa and plopping down, a sigh came out naturally. Saehyeon leaned his body deeply against the backrest. The cold, smooth texture and temperature of the leather fully embraced his body. It was a sensation that became more welcome as it got hotter. Unlike his lukewarm body, his heated head gradually cooled down.
Then suddenly, the words he’d just muttered in his stream of consciousness popped out. Like an awl in a pocket.
“…Could it really be on purpose? Like to give me a hard time?”
Gil Taeseo’s sudden change had been right after that midsummer night’s spinning around. Then couldn’t the cause have originated from there too? Saehyeon quietly began counting on his fingers. His bony fingers slowly folded in.
One. His head, which had been turned in the sweltering heat, rotated 180 degrees again and returned to its original position.
Therefore, those insane antics he’d been committing before were automatically corrected.
Two. He was thoroughly upset with Saehyeon for making him suffer like a dog.
These were about all he could reasonably come up with. The first one couldn’t explain what happened at night, so only the second one remained.
‘But would he really act like that over something like that?’
No matter how angry he was, it seemed unreasonable for him to act like that. He’d rather give him a good punch, or use this as an excuse to commit some perverse act. The former was a method and flow the 20-year-old Gil Taeseo often used, the latter the 28-year-old Gil Taeseo.
To figure out on his own what made him angry and make life miserable until he prostrated himself… Didn’t that feel too much like an annoying teenage boyfriend? The other person was a house-sized alpha approaching thirty, and his job was probably some harsh and illegal something-or-other. It really was a completely unsuitable combination.
But if that wasn’t it, there was simply no explanation.
“Right. The one who did wrong is the sinner.”
Banging his head against the sofa, Saehyeon finally decided to take a step back. Human relationships required give and take, and it was an unavoidable natural phenomenon for the one at fault to be in the weaker position.
Moreover, if this situation continued, it felt like he’d explode and die first. His mood kept being unpleasant, his insides bubbling, his head all foggy. Really, to the point where he couldn’t understand where he’d gotten so heated up.
So even if it meant losing some face, let’s resolve this stalemate first—Saehyeon had clearly resolved himself like that. It was a resolution that would soon turn to bubbles.
Saehyeon, sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed, turned his head toward the window with a haggard face. Summer’s characteristic bright sunshine poured in, and the sound of birds hastily going back and forth on the trees chirping could be heard. It was clearly morning.
“He told me to look after the house well. And he’s the one who runs away?”
The first morning without the homeowner.
It was the moment when even the last bastion of rationality was exhausted. The thread of sanity that had been continuing like a thin strand snapped with a pop.
“Look at this bastard?”
As if he’d been tied to the sofa with that thread, the incarnation of irrationality that had found freedom slowly straightened his body.
