Yeonwoo took a deep breath that felt like a sigh. He would never get used to this. Because he was an Omega. An Omega who had gone crazy for this man.
He wondered—if the day ever came when these feelings disappeared, would he be able to smell this man’s scent without reacting at all?
The thought came to him without warning. Even though the way his heart throbbed so painfully made it impossible to imagine that such a day would ever come.
He could suppress the heat, but he couldn’t stop his mind from going hazy. His knees, barely holding out, buckled the moment his consciousness slipped. The sensation of suddenly dropping down jolted his awareness back. Keith caught him by both arms immediately.
He didn’t end up collapsed on the floor, but he still ended up kneeling in front of him in disgrace.
Yeonwoo looked up to apologize. But the moment their eyes met, everything in his mind went blank. Keith, too, looked down at him in silence, as if just watching.
Haa.
Keith let out a soft sigh. Yeonwoo simply blinked, his eyelids growing heavier.
Then his body was suddenly lifted. Keith picked him up and practically threw him onto the sofa. His body hit the cushions hard, but his head remained clouded. When he slowly turned his head, he saw Keith standing above him, hands braced on either armrest of the sofa, looking straight at him. Yeonwoo instinctively held his breath.
Had he ever seen Keith this close before? His mind was too foggy to remember. He only barely registered how deeply purple Keith’s eyes seemed today.
Iris.
The image of elegant violet petals flickered through his thoughts—and Keith lowered his head.
Was he going to kiss him?
Yeonwoo closed his eyes, clumsily anticipating it. But he was wrong. Instead, warm breath touched the nape of his neck. His breath caught in his throat.
He felt Keith inhale, deeply. He was smelling him. Like Alphas and Omegas often did when pairing off. The pulse in Yeonwoo’s neck thudded violently. Most people said they decided whether to accept someone as a partner after smelling their scent—but Yeonwoo had always thought that was just a flimsy excuse to hide their animal instincts. Paradoxically, it was the act of a beast itself.
Whitaker’s words drifted faintly through his mind.
And what was he, if not the same?
Yeonwoo swallowed hard, drawing Keith’s pheromones deep into his lungs. Was this what it felt like to take drugs? His entire body felt lighter than air. Like his soul could float off into the cosmos. But there was no fear. The pleasant weightlessness and sense of drifting made him dizzy with intoxication.
What brought him back to reality was Keith’s voice.
“…Why can’t I smell anything?”
Yeonwoo barely managed to lift his heavy eyelids. Keith had lifted his head and was now looking at him. His face was so close... If Yeonwoo leaned forward even slightly, their lips might touch. If his last thread of reason, thin as a sheet of paper, hadn’t held him back, he might have gone through with it. Fortunately, he hadn’t lost it that badly.
“I’m taking suppressants. …More than the prescribed dose.”
His voice was faint, fading away. Keith stared at him in silence. His eyes, impossible to read, darkened a shade further.
“…Since when?”
Yeonwoo answered, still dazed.
“Since Mr. Pittman… told me to suppress the pheromones…”
Keith didn’t respond right away. A faint wrinkle formed between his brows—and then he let out a belated sigh.
“…Ah.”
So he remembered. Yeonwoo had assumed he’d forgotten completely. It was surprising.
But then again, Keith always had a good memory.
The thought came hazily. Keith spoke again.
“…So you haven’t had a scent since then?”
He was mumbling, almost to himself. Yeonwoo didn’t know how to respond, so he just said, “Yes.” Keith went silent again.
There was something strange about his expression. Like he was uncomfortable, or caught off guard, or annoyed, or maybe even flustered. It was such a complicated look that Yeonwoo wondered if Keith had always been this expressive.
Suddenly, Keith stood up. His tall, solid body straightened like a drawn blade. Even through the haze, Yeonwoo felt overwhelmed looking up at him from where he sat. He instinctively shrank his shoulders. Keith stroked his jaw for a moment, as if thinking, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Go upstairs.”
He spat the words and immediately turned to leave. Yeonwoo just sat there, blankly watching his retreating back.
***
He woke to a faint headache. Lying down, he blinked slowly.
“Ah… ah.”
He sat up with a start, letting out a reflexive cry, then exhaled and let his shoulders sag.
Sunday.
Yeonwoo scratched his head without thinking. The clock showed he had woken up five minutes earlier than usual. He’d turned off the alarm before it could go off and was now sitting blankly, trying to collect his thoughts.
Exactly five minutes later, he got out of bed. He headed straight into the en suite bathroom and opened the cabinet to take out his medication. As always, the first thing he did was take his pills. And more than the recommended dose.
After a quick shower and change of clothes, he found himself moving through the morning at the exact same pace as any other day. Even though he didn’t have work, the rhythm of time felt no different. Glancing at the clock, he let out a faint, bitter smile.
When he opened the door and stepped out, Charles happened to be walking down the hallway.
“Good morning, Charles.”
When their eyes met, Charles returned the greeting in his usual expressionless voice.
“Good morning.”
“You’re up early,” Charles said.
Yeonwoo smiled awkwardly.
“Yes. I just woke up.”
Even if he hadn’t woken naturally, the alarm would’ve gone off. Even on a day off, he didn’t want to come off as a burden. At the very least, he wanted to take care of what he could on his own.
Charles stared at him with the same unreadable expression. Maybe he wasn’t thinking anything at all. The thought crossed Yeonwoo’s mind.
Then Charles asked, his face still unreadable:
“Would you like tea? Or coffee?”
Yeonwoo answered without hesitation.
“Coffee, please. Scrambled eggs, just one pancake, and the bacon lightly cooked.”
He added the response to the question Charles always asked before the butler could even say a word. The man paused, as if caught off guard, then returned to his usual expression and said, “Yes, sir.” Yeonwoo absentmindedly watched his retreating figure. Charles had only taken a few steps before turning around. Their eyes met instantly, and he asked,
“Is there something you wanted to say?”
“Ah, no. Um.”
Yeonwoo gave a strained smile.
“I just thought… maybe there was something I could help with.”
Charles looked at him in silence. That unreadable face gave nothing away, and Yeonwoo grew uneasy under the weight of it. Then the butler finally opened his mouth.
“In that case, could you wake Mr. Pittman? I would appreciate it if you could also ask how he wants his eggs and bacon prepared.”
“Ah… yes.”
He nodded reflexively, caught off guard. It wasn’t something he’d expected at all. But Charles wasn’t the type to speak frivolously. The butler turned and walked away without hesitation, his confident stride already carrying him far down the hallway. Yeonwoo blinked after him, standing frozen.
Keith’s room.
Only then did his heart begin to beat faster. Even though several days had passed since he’d started staying at the estate, he hadn’t entered Keith’s room once. That had always been the case. He never thought the chance would present itself so suddenly—he wasn’t prepared at all.
But he didn’t have much time. If he hesitated, Charles might return and say, “It’s fine, I’ll take care of it,” and the opportunity would slip through his fingers just like that. Without giving himself time to think, he forced his feet to move.
Knock. Knock knock.
His trembling hand made a shamefully weak sound. He hurriedly clenched his hands together and took a deep breath. No response. Keith must still be asleep.
Now that he thought about it, Keith had gone to bed quite late the night before. Even while half-asleep, Yeonwoo had picked up on the sound of Charles moving up and down the hallway. Keith was the only person in the house who could be making demands that late into the night.
Yeonwoo swallowed and slowly opened the door.
Ah…
A sweet scent soaked into his lungs. He breathed it in slowly—pheromones faintly lingering in the air. His vision adjusted, and the room gradually came into view. The moment he pushed the door open fully, the pheromones washed over him completely, and his mind blurred.
The room was simple. Aside from the massive bed, there was nothing particularly extravagant.
On the wall opposite the bed hung a painting by Bouguereau. The newly born Venus stretching her limbs in elegance and seduction. Other than that, there were no decorations of note—just a few minimal pieces of furniture. He summoned his courage and approached the bed.
Keith was still asleep. Seeing him lying alone on that enormous bed filled Yeonwoo with an absurd sense of relief. Even though he’d known Keith had come home alone the night before, some foolish fear had taken root in him. Confirming it with his own eyes, he felt foolish—and let out a bitter smile.
The thin sheet covering Keith had slipped down to just beneath his chest. Yeonwoo swallowed dryly. It was the first time he’d seen Keith’s bare body. Until now, all he’d caught were brief glimpses through open shirts. He’d never imagined he’d be able to look so openly.
His tanned skin looked so firm it made his fingers ache to touch it. From the well-defined slope of his neck to his collarbones and then his chest, Yeonwoo could hardly breathe. Even in sleep, Keith’s wide shoulders and arms radiated strength.
His gaze slowly lowered, but the sheet blocked him. He couldn’t bring himself to look below it. The thin fabric outlined everything—if he looked any lower, he’d see it all.
Even with a sheet, Keith’s elegant, muscular frame was impossible to conceal. If he ended up seeing—that—even just the vague outline through the cloth, Yeonwoo didn’t know what would happen to him. He was already at his limit. There was no way he could go further. He clenched and released his trembling hands over and over, barely managing to steady his breath. He had to wake him.
“M-Mr. Pittman.”
His voice cracked, and he stammered. But thankfully, Keith didn’t stir. He let out a sigh of relief and quickly cleared his throat. Only after regaining some composure could he speak in his usual flat tone.
“Mr. Pittman.”
The voice that entered his ears sounded exactly like always. That gave him courage. He reached out, restraining the urge to touch Keith’s bare chest, and instead let his fingertips rest lightly on the man’s arm. Then, cautiously, he pressed down. The sensation of the taut muscle beneath his palm made him almost gasp—but Keith still didn’t wake.
“Mr. Pittman.”
He called again and finally shook the arm. His fingers slid softly over the skin, almost like a caress. Would Keith notice how intimate the gesture was? The unintended motion startled him. He looked down at Keith nervously.
That was when Keith’s long lashes quivered. Yeonwoo froze, watching as Keith slowly began to wake.
“…Mmm.”
A sound rose from deep in Keith’s throat. His brow furrowed, and he shifted. He had been lying flat, but suddenly rolled toward Yeonwoo. Yeonwoo flinched without meaning to. Keith opened his eyes.
With each blink, the violet irises faded in and out of view. He blinked several times more, as though trying to focus. His sleepy gaze settled hazily on Yeonwoo.
And Yeonwoo was lost—completely.
The disheveled dark hair, the defenseless expression, the unfocused amethyst gaze fixed on him. The solid shoulders, the sculpted chest.
How could anyone not love this man?
If he could kiss him now, hold him, Yeonwoo felt like he could offer up his soul to the devil without hesitation.
And then—it happened. Something he couldn’t believe.
“…?”
Keith abruptly sat up and reached out, grabbing the back of Yeonwoo’s head and yanking him close.
Caught off guard, Yeonwoo was pulled forward without resistance. Their faces were suddenly inches apart again—just like the night before. His heart thrashed in his chest, and all he could do was stare at him with wide eyes.
Ah.
The sweet scent intensified. Keith was releasing pheromones. Until now, he’d only done that twice—once in anger, and once to calm him.
So what was this?
It was different. The pheromones that had always pressed down on him now wrapped around him softly, like they were trying to seduce him.
No. Impossible.
He rejected the word the moment it appeared in his mind. But then—he felt Keith freeze. A heartbeat later, Keith blinked. Yeonwoo saw it—the exact instant the man’s eyes returned to reality.
And it hurt.
Keith shoved him away and swore loudly.
“Fuck, your pheromones—no, your face—fuck, Jesus!”
Yeonwoo staggered back. It had been a long time since Keith raised his voice like that. He vaguely remembered the tent—how furious Keith had been the first day they met.
Keith, unable to hold it in, threw a pillow. It hit the edge of the bed and tumbled to the carpet with a dull thud. Yeonwoo’s gaze followed it, then returned to Keith. The man was gritting his teeth, staring furiously at nothing.
“Why the hell are you in here?”
Keith spoke again, voice steadier now but still cold. Yeonwoo answered with practiced detachment.
“Charles asked me to wake you. He also wanted to know how you want your eggs and bacon cooked.”
He added the second part out of habit, like it was routine. Keith ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Crispy bacon. Hard-boiled eggs.”
The same preferences as always. Yeonwoo replied mechanically.
“Understood. Would you like coffee, or tea?”
“Triple shot espresso.”
Keith snapped, then suddenly threw the sheet aside. Yeonwoo instinctively turned his head. His heart jumped in his throat. Keith paid no attention and brushed past him on his way to the bathroom.
Click.
Only after the door closed did Yeonwoo realize he was alone. He let out a bitter sigh and turned his head. The goddess in the painting caught his eye. Her proud, upturned face seemed to mock him. He averted his gaze and hurried out of the room like he was running away.