Gi-hyeon woke feeling lighter than he had the night before. He sat up slowly, wiping the damp patch on the pillow with the back of his hand. The IV stand was gone, and the apartment was silent, which meant the perpetually busy third-generation chaebol had already left for work. After sitting there blankly for a while, he finally dragged himself out of bed and got ready for work.
Despite last night’s brutal indigestion, he stopped by a twenty-four-hour fast-food place before heading to the clinic. He desperately wanted the deluxe breakfast set, but the memory of yesterday’s disaster made him settle for a sausage egg muffin and sparkling water instead of coffee.
Even after being awake for a while, he still felt half-asleep sitting alone in the restaurant. Gi-hyeon had always struggled with low blood pressure and never fully woke up before ten in the morning. Until then, the only thing that kept him functioning was forcing calories into his system.
He needed the energy to go over those fucking words again.
—Ever since we ended up like this, I haven’t touched anyone else. You know that. But since I can’t help you with those biological urges myself, I’m telling you to deal with it in a way I can tolerate. Under my control.
Gi-hyeon unwrapped the muffin and took a bite, washing it down with sparkling water whenever his throat tightened.
After finishing, he tossed the trash away and ordered coffee, handing over his tumbler. It was surprisingly decent for fast food. As he walked out, ice rattled softly against the metal interior with each step.
Listening to the sound, Gi-hyeon let out a quiet sigh.
Jo Yeon-oh had always been this kind of bastard.
Even as a child, Yeon-oh had been obsessed with keeping the things he cared about within reach. Their mothers had been close friends, so the two of them had practically grown up together.
Things changed after Gi-hyeon’s mother died. His father, incapable of recognizing any of his own faults, cut ties with her entire side of the family out of spite and abruptly moved them away.
Naturally, that meant losing contact with Yeon-oh’s family too.
At ten years old, Gi-hyeon had no power to resist his father. But Yeon-oh had refused to accept it.
“Why do I have to be separated from you?”
“…My father said we’re moving far away.”
“So?”
“….”
“So you’re just going to disappear because of that?”
Gi-hyeon had never said he was abandoning him. He’d only wanted to ask Yeon-oh to wait for him. But the other boy hadn’t listened.
They parted badly, and Yeon-oh ignored every attempt Gi-hyeon made to contact him afterward. They only met again because they ended up attending the same high school by coincidence.
“Now that I think about it, his personality’s always been garbage,” Gi-hyeon muttered under his breath as he pushed open the hospital doors.
Despite ignoring him for years, Yeon-oh had suddenly cornered him one day and demanded:
“Why are you so close with Lee Beom-hee?”
Gi-hyeon had met Beom-hee at cram school. She was loud in groups, but surprisingly calm when they were alone together. He’d never imagined that friendship would drag Jo Yeon-oh back into his life.
Maybe that was the mistake.
Maybe I should’ve kept him out.
Rubbing the stiffness from his neck, Gi-hyeon greeted the passing nurses before heading into the locker room to change into scrubs.
The morning passed in chaos.
A senior trainer working with a figure skater called in a panic, asking him to confirm with Internal Medicine that a medication wouldn’t trigger a positive doping result. By the time that was resolved, a line of athletes was already waiting for treatment, and his schedule fell apart completely.
His morning shift ran ten minutes into lunch.
After inhaling his meal in barely three minutes, Gi-hyeon fell asleep almost instantly. The indigestion from yesterday was completely gone. The IV treatment had clearly worked.
“Dr. So. Wake up. You’re dead to the world.”
Gi-hyeon blinked awake at the sound of a colleague’s voice.
“Ah… thank you.”
His head still felt heavy with sleep. He didn’t fully wake up until an elementary school taekwondo athlete stomped directly onto his foot.
“Han-seong. Is stepping on your doctor part of your training routine?”
“You were blocking the way!”
“So this is my fault?”
“Yes!”
Gi-hyeon laughed and dragged the boy into a loose headlock before forcing the entire group into plank positions. The next several minutes were spent correcting terrible posture and yelling at kids whose hips were sticking up like mountains.
Even after the afternoon rehab sessions started, he barely had time to breathe. Paperwork piled up endlessly, and he ended up skipping the evening meeting to finish a deep-tissue massage for one of the athletes still waiting.
Only after checking the patient’s mobility and sending him back upstairs was Gi-hyeon finally allowed to leave.
Surprisingly, Yeon-oh hadn’t sent him a single message all day.
Considering Gi-hyeon had no desire to see his face anyway, he counted that as a blessing.
The moment he got home, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, appreciating how nice it felt to move freely in his own apartment again.
After throwing together a mediocre dinner, he collapsed onto the couch with a beer and turned on the TV.
The sharp crack of the can opening was the last thing he remembered.
At some point, he must have passed out on the sofa. The exhaustion from days of broken sleep had finally caught up to him. Deciding he should at least move to the bed properly, Gi-hyeon dragged himself up and brushed his teeth.
As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, he heard movement at the front door.
He sighed immediately.
There was only one person it could be.
With the resignation of someone heading toward execution, Gi-hyeon walked over and pulled the door open just before the bell rang.
“Mr. So!”
Manager Yoo stood outside looking utterly exhausted, his finger still hovering near the doorbell. The second he saw Gi-hyeon, relief flooded his face.
Gi-hyeon frowned slightly.
“Is Jo Yeon-oh drunk?”
“…Yes,” Manager Yoo admitted apologetically.
Gi-hyeon nodded. None of this was the secretary’s fault.
If Yeon-oh was drunk, then he was almost certainly refusing to get out of the car downstairs. He’d insisted on coming here, then stubbornly decided he couldn’t go upstairs until he sobered up. Which meant Manager Yoo had been trapped in the parking garage with him.
Stepping out into the hallway in just a T-shirt, Gi-hyeon rubbed his arms against the cold.
“You look like you’re dying, Manager Yoo.”
“My wife said she’d divorce me if I came home late again tonight. I was trying to get him upstairs quickly so I could finally leave.”
“You really do suffer.”
Gi-hyeon followed him down to the parking garage.
Inside the car, Jo Yeon-oh was slumped in the back seat with his arms crossed, apparently asleep.
Looking at his peaceful face only irritated Gi-hyeon more.
“Where was he drinking?”
Manager Yoo gave an awkward laugh instead of answering.
Probably politicians. Investors. People whose names secretaries weren’t supposed to repeat casually.
Jo Yeon-oh had already been handed control of the Haeseong Foundation and Naban Gallery by his grandfather, Jo Gyu-deok.
Despite having no interest in art whatsoever, he sat comfortably as director while quietly handling money laundering, tax evasion, and the endless political games surrounding the Haeseong empire.
The fact that he’d gotten this drunk meant the dinner must’ve been important.
Yeon-oh’s alcohol tolerance was terrible. Normally, four cans of beer were enough to destroy him.
Knowing how badly Yeon-oh struggled with insomnia, Gi-hyeon suddenly felt irritated by the flicker of sympathy that rose in his chest.
He sighed.
“Give me the keys and go home, Manager Yoo. It’s late.”
“Are you sure?”
The secretary looked guilty, but Gi-hyeon knew him well enough to recognize the performance.
“Go before your wife kills you.”
Manager Yoo grinned immediately.
After seeing him off, Gi-hyeon opened the rear door and tried to wake the sleeping Alpha.
“Jo Yeon-oh. Wake up.”
No response.
Clicking his tongue, Gi-hyeon leaned into the car and grabbed him around the waist.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him.
Gi-hyeon sucked in a startled breath.
Yeon-oh buried his face against his neck and inhaled slowly.
“…Jo Yeon-oh.”
His voice dropped warningly, but the Alpha only tightened his grip.
Then Yeon-oh spoke quietly.
“You smell good.”
The warmth of his breath against Gi-hyeon’s neck sent a sharp shiver down his spine.
Gi-hyeon forced his expression flat.
“Stop messing around and get out of the car.”
Dragging a full-grown Alpha out by force was nearly impossible even for him. Fortunately, Yeon-oh finally seemed to wake a little.
Blinking slowly, he looked up at Gi-hyeon with a crooked smile.
The moment his unfocused gaze settled properly on him, something twisted painfully in Gi-hyeon’s chest.
Even now, the beauty mark beneath Yeon-oh’s eye was unfairly pretty.
Realizing this was absolutely not the time to be thinking things like that, Gi-hyeon clicked his tongue and tried to pull away.
Instead, Yeon-oh lifted a hand and gently cupped his cheek.
“Are you done being mad at me?”
The question left Gi-hyeon speechless.
Yeon-oh sounded calm, almost patient, as if Gi-hyeon had been the unreasonable one all along.
And somehow, Gi-hyeon couldn’t argue.
Why was he so angry?
He was going to stay beside this man anyway. He already knew that. He didn’t have the strength to push Yeon-oh away completely.
In front of Jo Yeon-oh, So Gi-hyeon always ended up losing.
Without answering, he stepped back from the car.
Yeon-oh followed on his own this time, walking steadily despite the alcohol.
So he hadn’t really been asleep after all.
The bastard had probably been sitting there the entire time, waiting until he sobered up enough to face him.
Gi-hyeon was too familiar with this particular habit to be fooled.
He turned and headed toward the elevator.
Yeon-oh followed close behind.
While waiting for the elevator, Gi-hyeon stared blankly at the floor display. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Yeon-oh stumble once before immediately straightening himself again.
He really was drunk.
The elevator doors opened.
Gi-hyeon stepped inside and held the button.
The moment Yeon-oh entered, he wrapped both arms around Gi-hyeon’s waist and leaned heavily against him.
“You’re heavy.”
“What did you do today? You didn’t call me.”
“Since when do you care?”
They had never been the kind of couple who reported every detail of their day to each other.
Gi-hyeon kept staring at the elevator doors.
Maybe because of the alcohol, Yeon-oh felt unusually warm tonight. His arms around Gi-hyeon’s waist felt tight enough to make him hyperaware of every point of contact.
The memory of his breath against his neck still lingered.
Closing his eyes briefly, Gi-hyeon tried to steady himself.
The elevator chimed.
The doors opened.
“…Move.”
The fact that the word came out breathless made him feel pathetic.
After yesterday’s argument, his lack of pride was honestly embarrassing.
But So Gi-hyeon had already sacrificed too much dignity where Jo Yeon-oh was concerned to care anymore.
Yeon-oh stepped out first and entered the passcode to Gi-hyeon’s apartment without hesitation.
He looked perfectly lucid now, but Gi-hyeon knew that by tomorrow morning, he probably wouldn’t remember any of this at all.
And somehow, that made him feel like an idiot.