Don't Take in A Stray Dog

by gujikajia

Summary:

“I just saved your life,” Kim Dokja crossed his arms. “I think I at least deserve a ‘hyung’ out of basic respect, not getting called by name by a little brat.”

Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his lips into a tight line. He turned his head again, dodging Kim Dokja’s teasing look.

“How about a ‘thank you’ then?” Kim Dokja coaxed.

Notes:

• A translation of [众独/ABO】请勿乱捡野狗回家 by gujikajia

Pls note this story involves a 9-year age gap. KDJ around 26s and YJH around 17s at their first time.

Chapter 1

Kim Dokja received the letter two days before finishing his military service.

The sender was someone claiming to be his mother’s friend. When he saw that, he nearly tossed the letter into the river.

But in the end, a faint sense of dread clutched at his throat. It had been too long since he last contacted his mother. Maybe this letter carried some piece of bad news, which is bad enough that even a so-called “friend” had to step in.

He found a quiet corner, took a deep breath, and opened the envelope. Inside was a piece of yellowed, almost antique-looking paper. It didn’t look like it was here to deliver tragedy, but rather to carry some kind of buried secret.

As he read, his eyes grew wider and wider. By the time he finished, he realized his mouth was hanging open. He couldn’t see himself, but he was certain he looked like a fool.

Old fragments of conversations resurfaced. There were rumors from relatives, neighbors, and slurred nonsense from his drunken father. They used to say that before getting married, Lee Sookyung ran a secondhand goods shop and often hung around with shady people. After the wedding, to shut down the gossip, she handed the store over to a friend.

And now, in the letter, that friend said she was about to leave the country to stay with her daughter working overseas. The store had once been her refuge, and even if it was too late for everything else, she wanted to return this place to them.

Kim Dokja crouched in the corner, fingertips brushing the rough letter paper. He’d once spent half a night absentmindedly thinking about what to do after his service ended, but had given up quickly. A future, a home—he didn’t think he had the right to even imagine those things.

But now, suddenly, he had somewhere to go.

 

 

The shop was tucked away in a narrow alley.

It wasn’t small. It was about a hundred square meters, divided into two sections. The back room held secondhand books; the front was filled with all sorts of odds and ends: bags, clothes, shoes, trinkets, decorations—anything he could think of. The faint scent of sandalwood drifted through the air. On the counter, a incense stick burned slowly.

“This is the inner door. It leads to the storage room. Things that haven’t been disinfected or wrapped yet are all in there,” the current owner said. She was a short-haired woman who spoke with a flustered, apologetic look that didn’t leave her face. “There’s also a side door in the storage room. It goes straight to the unit on the first floor. I’ve cleaned it up and you can live there. The building’s a bit old, so you might run into the occasional issue. I wrote down the numbers for the plumber and other repairs on a sticky note.”

He followed her inside. The space was around sixty square meters. Though the doorframe and corners showed signs of wear, the place was spotless. Fully furnished, sofa, TV, even pots and dishes were a brand-new set. He glanced at the woman, but she simply waved her hand.

“I can’t take any of it overseas anyway,” she said.

“This neighborhood’s safe. Even if an Omega gets drunk and stumbles around at night, nothing happens. So I often don’t even bother locking the door,” she added. “You’re fresh out of the army, right? Probably a Beta? I just want to say, don’t worry. You’ll be fine here.”

When she handed him the keys and documents, she added, “I’ve already paid six months of rent. You just need to cover the utilities.”

“What?” Kim Dokja froze. “You really don’t have to—”

“That’s how your mother did it,” the woman said. “Back then, I wanted a divorce. It was her…”

“If it weren’t for me, maybe none of that would’ve happened.” She lowered her head. “I always felt like I took away her way out. I’m sorry.”

Kim Dokja didn’t respond. He had no right to forgive anyone on his mother’s behalf. He wasn’t even sure he could forgive himself.

“Oh, and another thing,” the woman said, as if trying to change the subject. “Your new neighbors just moved in. They’re… a little weird.”

“Weird?”

“They’re two kids. Neither of them looks like they’ve come of age yet. The boy seems like a high schooler, and the girl…she’s maybe six or seven. I’ve never seen any parents around.” She looked genuinely worried. “I’m not sure if they ran away from home or something. If you get the chance, could you keep an eye on them? I’m a little concerned.”

 

 

The first few days after taking over the shop were a bit chaotic. Kim Dokja was so busy trying to keep up that he completely forgot about the fact that he even had neighbors.

He’d thought it was just an obscure secondhand store, but once he started running it, he realized it actually had a bit of a reputation. Locals called it the “Wish-Granting Shop.” No matter how strange the request, the previous owner had always managed to pull out exactly what the customer needed, as if by magic.

That left Kim Dokja in a bind. Still unfamiliar with the layout, he spent most of his time buried in the notebooks she’d left behind, butt in the air as he dug through crates. More often than not, he emerged with a face half-covered in dust, awkwardly handing the item to a waiting customer with a quiet apology.

That also meant, there was no time left to deal with the newly received secondhand goods. Every night, he stayed late to disinfect and repackage them, only to be repeatedly distracted by the used books. One page led to another, and before he knew it, hours would pass. By the time he dragged himself home, it was well past midnight.

Every morning, he woke up barely in time for opening. He’d stumble out of bed and head straight through the storage room into the shop. For some reason, a woman with long brown hair often came in before work, casually browsing the shelves. She’d sometimes buy a few vintage trinkets or books with obscure titles from the book section.

After nearly two weeks, Kim Dokja finally got into the rhythm of things. One night, he even made it to bed by eleven and promised himself to start living better—beginning with eating breakfast properly.

The next morning, when he opened his door, he saw his two neighbors for the first time.

The door across the hall was ajar. A boy stood with his back to him, wearing a school uniform. He had a backpack on, and a small light-blue one slung over his right shoulder. From inside, a girl’s voice called out, “I’m almost ready!”

The sound of Kim Dokja’s door startled the boy. He turned sharply, stepping in front of the doorway in a guarded stance.

“Oppa?” the girl’s voice came again, puzzled.

Instinctively, the boy reached out his arm, shielding her behind his back as she poked her head out to look. Kim Dokja blinked and glanced down at himself. Baggy T-shirt, sweatpants, canvas shoes. At worst, he just looked a little too casual, not exactly the stuff of child-eating monsters.

“Hi,” Kim Dokja said. “I just moved in. I run the secondhand shop downstairs.”

The boy didn’t respond. He kept staring at him, guarded, hostile. Kim Dokja could practically picture a guard dog crouched low, growling. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, with a face that could easily land him on the cover of a school forum. His uniform was from a nearby high school. Where were their parents? Kim Dokja wondered. Were they living here alone just for school? That wasn’t legal… was it?

They stayed frozen like that until the girl tugged on her brother’s sleeve and said seriously, “We’re going to be late.”

Kim Dokja decided to back off. He stepped back into his own apartment. The boy didn’t relax until then. He took the girl’s hand, clearly worried Kim Dokja might try something, and hurried past the door. Once they stepped out of the building, the boy suddenly dashed back, slammed his apartment door shut with a loud bang, and rushed out again to catch up.

Kim Dokja simply raised an eyebrow.

 

 

That evening, he saw the boy again.

He was eating takeout at the counter, bento box in hand, when he felt someone watching him. He looked up and locked eyes with the boy, who was standing across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of a tree, glaring straight at him. May trying to make sure he wasn’t lying this morning, Kim Dokja thought, a little amused.

He raised a hand in greeting. The boy didn’t respond. By the time Kim Dokja looked up again, he was gone.

The next morning, Kim Dokja opened his door at the same time again, still concerned about the two kids. And just like the day before, he saw the exact same scene: the boy with the backpack waiting for his sister to get ready. As their eyes met, the boy turned stiffly to glare at him again.

“Morning,” Kim Dokja said. “You don’t have to stare like that. You saw me yesterday, didn’t you? I really am the new owner of the shop downstairs. Not some evil Ahjussi.”

The boy’s face grew even darker, like Kim Dokja had just insulted his entire family rather than stating a fact. When the girl came out, he stepped protectively in front of her and walked off quickly. This time, at least, he remembered to shut the door.

Kim Dokja almost laughed.

On the third day, he opened his door to find the hallway empty. Tilting his head, he stepped toward the stairwell, but behind him came the creak of an old door bolt. He turned back just in time to see a pair of black eyes peeking out from the narrow gap.

“Morning,” Kim Dokja said.

The door slammed shut.

He wasn’t sure what made him keep trying. Maybe it was just a sense of adult responsibility, but from that day on, he added a new task to his todo list: greet the neighbors. He wanted to be sure the kids were okay.

The boy kept trying to avoid him—leaving early, leaving late—but a student with a fixed school schedule had little chance of dodging someone who both lived and worked in the same building. After half a month of this strange little game, the boy finally gave up. Each morning, the three of them would meet in the hallway.

“Morning,” Kim Dokja said cheerfully.

“Morning, creepy Ahjussi,” the girl replied with a bright smile.

The boy stayed silent, face grim as ever.

Kim Dokja’s to-do list quietly updated itself. Now, he wanted to get a single word out of that boy. Just one. Even if it was calling him “creepy Ahjussi,” he’d take it.

 

 

That day, Kim Dokja got off work earlier than usual. Maybe it was the rain, customers were few, and no one came in to sell their used goods. With no disinfecting or sorting to do, he gave the store a quick clean and headed home, collapsing onto the couch in a comfortable sprawl and pulling out his phone.

The sound of rain pattered outside, soft and steady. He closed his eyes, just about to drift off, when he heard a door open across the hall, followed by light footsteps stopping just outside his own door.

Kim Dokja sat up. A soft knock followed, barely a tap with the knuckle. He stood and opened the door. Outside stood the girl next door, dressed in pajamas, eyes red and swollen.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, crouching down.

“My brother... I don’t know where he went…” she sniffled. “He’s not back yet…”

Kim Dokja glanced at the time. It was past ten.

“Do you know where he might’ve gone?”

It took a few minutes to calm her down and get some basic information. They’d had dinner around 7:30 pm. Her brother went out after that. He usually played at an internet café for an hour or two but always came home by 9:45 pm at the latest—never past ten, because that’s when she went to bed.

“Can you wait at home for a bit?” Kim Dokja asked. She shook her head violently.

With no choice, he took her hand and headed toward the nearest internet café. They hadn’t even reached the entrance when they heard the chaos inside: shouting, the scrape of chairs against the floor, and someone screaming for help. Kim Dokja gripped the girl’s hand tighter. It was too dark to leave her alone, so he leaned down: “When we go in, find a corner and stay there. Got it?”

She nodded, face pale.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

He kept the name in mind and pushed open the door.

Inside, a crowd had gathered. A few people were covering their noses, maybe because of the thick cloud of pheromones in the air, though Kim Dokja didn’t smell anything. Two boys were in the center, locked in a fight, and Yoo Joonghyuk clearly had the upper hand. He had the other boy pinned to the floor by the throat.

But his opponent wasn’t giving up. Scrambling around, he grabbed a computer mouse and swung it hard at Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand. With a hiss of pain, Yoo Joonghyuk loosened his grip, and the boy shouted, “What the hell are you staring at?! Help me out! Beat the shit out of this little punk!”

A few guys in the crowd hesitated, then stepped forward. Kim Dokja let go of the girl’s hand. She stood frozen.

“Remember what I told you?” he said gently.

She nodded and darted to a desk, hiding behind it. Kim Dokja sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and for the first time in his life, felt truly grateful for being assigned to the front lines during his military service.

He pushed through the crowd and tapped a boy who looked ready to join the fight.

“Who the hell—”

Before he could finish, Kim Dokja grabbed his upper arm with one hand, twisted his wrist down with the other, and drove his knee into the back of the guy’s leg. The boy collapsed forward with a sharp crack in his shoulder and started rolling on the ground, clutching it and groaning.

“Enough,” Kim Dokja said, calm but firm. He hadn’t raised his voice,”Stop.”

“Who the hell are you—” the boy on the ground roared.

Yoo Joonghyuk, clearly still seeing red, took advantage of the distraction and punched him straight in the face. He was panting, wild-eyed, completely ignoring Kim Dokja’s voice.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja called again. This time, the boy hesitated. His raised fist froze midair.“Come here.”

There was movement behind him. Kim Dokja sensed the incoming punch and raised his arm to shield his face, dodged to the side, caught the attacker’s arm, lowered his center of gravity, and flipped the guy over his shoulder.

“Get up,” The café fell silent. Kim Dokja said, “Someone’s waiting for you to come home.”

Only then did Yoo Joonghyuk look back.

 

 

Kim Dokja held the girl’s hand with one hand and locked Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm with the other, dragging both of them back to his home. The three of them shared a single umbrella—trying to shield the girl meant the other two were completely soaked. On the way, Yoo Joonghyuk looked utterly dazed, and only when they reached the door did he struggle faintly. Kim Dokja and the girl turned to glare at him at the same time, and he finally, grudgingly, stepped inside.

Kim Dokja shoved him onto the sofa. He told the girl to stand back, then went into the bathroom and grabbed a dry towel, tossing it onto Yoo Joonghyuk’s head.

“Hand,” he ordered.

The boy held out his hand. It was covered in blood, especially the knuckles of his left hand, which had been smashed by the mouse—flesh torn and messy enough to make Kim Dokja suck in a sharp breath. He pulled out iodine and gauze. “Tough it out. Don’t make a sound. Your sister’s right here.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t make a sound. But the fingers of his other hand dug deep into his palm, and when Kim Dokja started picking shards of glass out of the torn flesh, the pain made his back arch up.

“Where are your parents?” Kim Dokja finally asked the question that had been stuck in his throat.

“They’re dead.” Yoo Joonghyuk squeezed the words out between clenched teeth. But rather than a plain statement of fact, it sounded more like a curse.

“Why were you fighting?”

“They lost a bet. Couldn’t take it—tch—!”

Kim Dokja didn’t hold back, winding the bandage tighter.

“Why’d you leave your sister alone to go gaming in the middle of the night?” Kim Dokja pressed, “Do you even know how worried she was—”

“Oppa wasn’t gaming,” the girl said softly. “He went to… work.”

Kim Dokja frowned and looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk. The boy avoided his gaze.

“Power-leveling jobs?” Kim Dokja guessed.

Yoo Joonghyuk muttered something, something about “not making enough money” maybe.

“You guys short on cash?”

“None of your business.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was flat and cold. He looked at the girl. “Mia, don’t talk so much.”

Kim Dokja paused. He’d been crouched on the floor, examining the swelling on Yoo Joonghyuk’s knee. Now he looked up. The boy’s calves were tense, every muscle braced like a beast trapped in a cage, ready to bolt or strike at any moment. A little kindness clearly wasn’t enough to make him drop his guard.

“There’s a computer at my place,” Kim Dokja said. The previous owner had left a desktop behind. A decent specs, was supposedly used by her daughter for gaming. Kim Dokja mostly just used it to watch movies. “If you want to use it, just come over anytime.”

There was a long silence. After Kim Dokja finished tending to the swelling on his knee, Yoo Joonghyuk finally asked, “Who are you?”

“Who do you think I am?” Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t try to trick me,” Yoo Joonghyuk said angrily.

Kim Dokja let out a short laugh. Teasing this kid was unexpectedly fun. He stood up, now that the treatment was mostly done. “Fine, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Kim Dokja.”

“Kim Dokja,” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered. “Weird name.”

“I just saved your life,” Kim Dokja crossed his arms. “I think I at least deserve a ‘hyung’ out of basic respect, not getting called by name by a little brat.”

Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his lips into a tight line. He turned his head again, dodging Kim Dokja’s teasing look.

“How about a ‘thank you’ then?” Kim Dokja coaxed.

“…”

“Oppa, you can’t be like this. Ahjussi got soaked in the rain to save you,” Mia ran over and tugged on Yoo Joonghyuk’s sleeve, scolding him. Then she turned to Kim Dokja. “Ahjussi, thank you.”

…Well, it wasn’t “hyung,” but at least she’d dropped the “creepy” part. That was progress. Kim Dokja thought, as both of them turned to stare expectantly at the stiff Yoo Joonghyuk, waiting for him to speak. The boy took a sharp breath, as if the air was full of toxic gas.

“…Thanks,” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered.

Watching how awkward this kid looked, Kim Dokja felt, for the first time in his life, what it meant to have fireworks going off in his chest. He just regretted not having a camera rolling to record the moment so he could replay it for years to come. But just as he was basking in his own amusement, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed Mia’s hand and stood up, limping. “We’re leaving.”

“Oppa,” Mia followed behind him, “your ears are red.”

With the towel still on his head, Yoo Joonghyuk slammed the door shut behind them.

Chapter 2

That morning, Kim Dokja ran into the two kids at the door again.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked tired. His face and hands were still covered in yesterday’s bandages. He wasn’t carrying Mia’s backpack for once. The girl clutched her bag and squeezed out the door with a worried face.

“Oppa... are you really going to school?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine at all...” Kim Dokja coughed. His throat had felt dry ever since he woke up, maybe from yesterday’s rain, but he hadn’t thought much of it. “If the teacher asks, what are you going to say?”

“They won’t care,” Yoo Joonghyuk replied stiffly, reaching out to Mia. “Let’s go.”

Kim Dokja didn’t stop him. Going head-to-head with a teenager in their rebellious phase was like taking on a buffalo barehanded. He just headed to the breakfast shop, picked up a pancake wrap and soy milk, then strolled back to the bookstore and opened early. Before long, that familiar brown-haired woman was at the door again.

“...Yes, I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him,” she was on the phone. Even without speaker mode, Kim Dokja could hear the voice on the other end complaining intensely. “Yes, yes, teenagers can be difficult like that. As parents, you need to communicate with them from a place of equality... Otherwise it’s hard for kids to open up—”

She kept talking for a while, and finally let out a long sigh when she hung up. She glanced at Kim Dokja and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“It’s fine.” Kim Dokja waved it off. “Are you a teacher?”

“Yes, at the high school next door.”

Kim Dokja opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. He realized this was a chance, a chance to get closer to the truth. But would Yoo Joonghyuk want to be investigated like this? Teen pride was fragile, like a balloon. One prick and it exploded. He had finally gained a bit of closeness with the boy. He didn’t want to waste it.

“Sounds like a tough job.” So Kim Dokja didn’t press further.

“It is.” She sighed. “I envy you. If I ever quit, can I come work here?”

Kim Dokja smiled. “Sure you can. Ahem...”

“Caught a cold?” she asked.

“Got a little wet in the rain yesterday.” Kim Dokja took a sip of water. “Nothing serious.”

 

 

 

“Huh?” A girl in a purple hoodie bit her lollipop and stared at him. “Didn’t you used to open at nine? It’s only seven.”

“I’ve got things to do,” Kim Dokja replied.

“A date?”

“None of your business. I’m closing up.”

“Then what about me?” she asked.

“Buy the book and read it at home.”

“As you can see, I’m a poor university student. I can’t afford it.”

Kim Dokja felt a headache coming on. This girl came almost every day, spending one or two hours curled up in a corner, pulling out obscure old texts and sitting cross-legged on the floor. She’d practically become a permanent fixture of the store.

Seeing she had no intention of leaving, Kim Dokja finally said, “Show me your student ID. I’ll let you borrow one for a day.”

She fished out a thin card from her pocket. It was a student ID from a nearby university. Her name was Han Sooyoung, majoring in Journalism and Literature.

“Alright, but remember tomorrow—” Kim Dokja looked up and saw Han Sooyoung with two or three books under each arm, heading for the door. He bit his tongue and swallowed the rest of his sentence. “Just one! Come back here!”

After that whole mess with Han Sooyoung, it was already 7:30 pm by the time Kim Dokja got home. He tossed down his bag and rushed to the hallway. The door across from his was shut. He wasn’t sure if he was too late or too early. He hesitated for two seconds, then raised his hand to knock. If Yoo Joonghyuk had already left, he’d have to chase after him.

Just as he knocked, the door opened. He couldn’t stop in time and stumbled forward, instinctively reaching for something to grab onto—and his hand landed squarely on the other’s chest.

...What the hell. Kim Dokja’s brain blanked for a second. It was one thing for a high schooler to be 180cm tall, but this kind of pecs? He’d served on the front lines for a year and only managed to build a faint outline of muscle. Was there no fairness in the world?

“You—” Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression was a strange mess.

“What are you doing?” Kim Dokja cut him off and quickly pulled his hand back, pretending nothing had happened. “Your wounds are healed?”

“I told you, it’s none of your business,” Yoo Joonghyuk replied.

“How is it none of my business?” Kim Dokja said. “I beat up a minor in a PC bang yesterday and dragged you away. I bet his parents are posting wanted signs with my face. If you go there, you’re basically handing them evidence.”

“If that’s what you’re worried about,” Yoo Joonghyuk said coldly, “I won’t rat you out.”

Why is this kid so hard to talk to? Kim Dokja sighed inwardly and changed tactics. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll ambush you for revenge?”

“I won’t let them.”

Kim Dokja narrowed his eyes. That confidence didn’t come from nothing. He held out his hand: “Give it to me.”

“...What?” Yoo Joonghyuk blinked.

“Whatever weapon you’re hiding. A knife? Brass knuckles? Spiked rings?” Kim Dokja said. “Hand it over.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s whole body tensed. Kim Dokja pressed further.

“Do you ever think about consequences? What if you actually hurt someone? What if you get sent to juvie? What happens to your sister then? And how do you know you’re the only one carrying a weapon?”

There was a long silence. All Kim Dokja could hear was the boy’s increasingly heavy breathing. After a while, Yoo Joonghyuk pulled something out of his pocket. That was a metal knuckle, just as Kim Dokja had guessed. He took it and weighed it in his hand. With this kind of weight and hardness, one solid punch could crush a person’s skull.

Kids these days...Kim Dokja sighed and stuffed the weapon into his own pocket. “It’s confiscated.”

Yoo Joonghyuk turned to go back inside. Kim Dokja, still fending off the itch in his throat, nearly didn’t react in time. Just before the door shut, he grabbed the boy by the arm.

“Why are you going back in?”

“What?”

“Aren’t you trying to earn money gaming?” Kim Dokja asked. “You don’t have a computer at home, do you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk blinked, slowly and confused. Kim Dokja kicked himself again for not installing a camera. That rare, dumbfounded expression on his stubborn face was priceless.

“I’m not going.” Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to recall the invitation, his face stiffening. He jerked his arm free and glared. “Who are you, really?”

“I told you, I’m just your neighbor,” Kim Dokja replied. “If you don’t believe me, go ahead and say who you think I am. Maybe I can find some proof that I’m not.”

“I don’t need charity from you guys.”

“You guys? ‘Guys’? Who else is in on this?” Kim Dokja glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t scare me. There’s no one behind me, right?”

“You—!” Yoo Joonghyuk’s face darkened.

“Oppa,” Mia suddenly popped out from behind him. “I don’t think Ahjussi is a bad person. Why are you so afraid of him?”

“Mia,” Kim Dokja said solemnly, “even if I saved your brother yesterday, you can’t trust people so easily. This could be a pig-butchering scam. Never trust adults without good reason.”

“I’m helping you, Ahjussi!” Mia pouted. “Also... what’s a pig-butchering scam?”

Kim Dokja chuckled and turned back to face Yoo Joonghyuk. “But you need money, right? You were willing to go to a PC bang with a weapon. Is my house really more dangerous than that place?”

“If you really feel that uncomfortable,” Kim Dokja said, stepping back just slightly to give the kid the illusion of choice, “you can treat it like a PC bang and pay me for electricity.”

Yoo Joonghyuk mulled it over for a long time. Finally, as if heading to his own execution, he stiffly stepped into Kim Dokja’s apartment.

“Mia, want to come too? I’ve got peaches and watermelon.”

“Yes!”

“No.”

The siblings answered in perfect unison.

In the end, Mia won the standoff with a well-timed tear and a heartfelt “I don’t want to be alone at home anymore.” She bounced in behind her brother, beaming.

 

 

“Here.” Kim Dokja led Yoo Joonghyuk into his study. The apartment wasn’t big, just barely enough space for two rooms. With a computer desk, an ergonomic chair, a bookshelf, and now Yoo Joonghyuk, the  study suddenly felt cramped. Funny how he never felt that way when Kim Dokja was alone inside.

“I don’t really know computers,” Kim Dokja said, standing behind Yoo Joonghyuk and watching him check the setup. “Is this good enough for your games?”

Yoo Joonghyuk gave a small nod.

“Then have at it,” Kim Dokja said. “Mia and I will be outside.”

He stepped out of the room, only to see Mia already sprawled comfortably on the couch, flipping on the TV and tuning into some cartoons. Kim Dokja turned toward the kitchen, sliced up a chilled watermelon, and brought the tray to the coffee table. He hadn’t even had time to hand Mia a fork when a head peeked out of the study.

“She shouldn’t have too much cold stuff at night.” Yoo Joonghyuk said irritably.

“Aren’t you gaming?” Kim Dokja rolled his eyes, then suddenly, something clicked. “Oh, I see.”

He handed a wedge of watermelon to Mia, took a big bite himself, then picked up the rest and stepped back into the study, only to meet Yoo Joonghyuk’s wary gaze.

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Kim Dokja asked, feigning surprise.

“I didn’t,” Yoo Joonghyuk said through clenched teeth.

“No?” Kim Dokja kept up the innocent act. “Well, it’s already here. Might as well have a bite.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Then I’ll give it to Mia,” Kim Dokja said, springing the last part of his trap. “She really seems to like it. A bit more won’t hurt. She was so frightened yesterday, so let her enjoy herself today.”

The look on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was as if he were facing some kind of moral life-or-death decision. In the end, he reluctantly took the largest slice, bit off a small piece as if testing for poison, then stuffed the whole thing into his mouth in a few more bites, scowling as he tossed the rind into the trash bin.

“%￥.” With his mouth full of watermelon, it wasn’t clear what he said, but Kim Dokja guessed it was something like “Get out.”

“What game is this?” Kim Dokja had no intention of leaving. Instead, he set the watermelon on a side table, rested his arm on the back of Yoo Joonghyuk’s chair, and curiously eyed the screen. “TWSA?”

He had heard of this game back in the army, as it had just launched when he enlisted, and a few of his bunkmates were already planning how they’d binge it once their service ended.

But Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him, instead opening a chat window and pasting in a login ID and password. Once the game loaded, an androgynous character swayed dramatically across the screen—clearly not Yoo Joonghyuk’s own account. “This is power leveling, isn’t it?”

“I’m only helping with the high-difficulty dungeons,” Yoo Joonghyuk replied.

“Oh? Our Joonghyuk is so talented,” Kim Dokja said with a teasing smile.

“...Shut up. Don’t call me that.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s teeth ground audibly. “Get out.”

With that, he put on his headset, clearly deciding he wouldn’t respond to another word. Kim Dokja knew when to quit while he was ahead, so he picked up the watermelon tray and returned to the living room. He chose the other couch, grabbed the book he’d been reading two days ago from the coffee table, and lay down casually.

The room was soon filled with the exaggerated voices of anime characters from the TV, the tense commands of what sounded like a raid from the study, and Kim Dokja’s own occasional coughs.

“Ahjussi,” Mia said during the anime’s ending theme. “Aren’t you going to ask me anything?”

“Ask what?” Kim Dokja sat up.

“I don’t know,” Mia said honestly. “But you look like you have a lot of questions.”

“I am curious,” Kim Dokja admitted without hesitation. “But if you two aren’t ready to talk, I won’t force you.”

“But you forced Oppa to talk yesterday,” Mia glared at him. Kim Dokja realized the siblings had the exact same glare.

…Because teasing him was fun, Kim Dokja thought, but he couldn’t say that in front of her. “Because I was worried. I needed to know some basics.”

“Alright,” Mia said, though it was unclear if she believed him. “If you really want to ask, I’ll answer one question. Just one.”

Kim Dokja thought for a moment. “How old are you two?”

“I’m seven. Oppa is fifteen,” she said.

“Fifteen? He hasn’t presented yet?” Kim Dokja looked surprised. He’d assumed Yoo Joonghyuk had already gone through secondary gender differentiation—his body was already well-developed. “Do you know when it’s supposed to happen?”

“The doctor said maybe in half a year—” Mia suddenly caught herself, turning to glare at him. “That’s the second question!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Kim Dokja said quickly. “Want some peaches?”

As an apology, he cut up two peaches and brought them to the table. They fell into silence again, each absorbed in their own world. By the time the clock hit nine-thirty, Mia yawned, and as if on cue, Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door and stepped out.

“Time to go home, Mia,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

She rubbed her eyes, jumped off the couch, and walked toward the door. “Bye-bye, thank you, Ahjussi.” Then she looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk and gave his hand a little swing.

“...I’ll pay you for this,” Yoo Joonghyuk said stiffly, glancing at Kim Dokja and reaching for his pocket.

“That’s not what I meant,” Mia said, frowning. “Oppa, be polite.”

“I already said it yesterday. And—” Yoo Joonghyuk turned to glare at Kim Dokja. “Why are you pointing your phone at us?”

To make up for yesterday, of course, Kim Dokja thought. He didn’t have time to come up with an excuse before Yoo Joonghyuk slammed the door and left in a huff.

Kim Dokja could only lie down with a sigh of regret. He felt a bit drained, and with his persistent coughing, he poured himself a dose of medicine for a common cold with a sedative effect and went to bed early.

But as it turned out, the marvels of modern medicine were no match for a stubborn cold. The next morning, he woke up coughing, each breath feeling like a razor slicing through his throat. He felt dizzy and weak. He tried to get up, thought better of it, and flopped back under the covers. He couldn’t risk infecting the kids.

He reset his alarm and burrowed back into the blankets, feeling both exhausted and sleepless as his coughing shook the walls.

What the hell? Kim Dokja thought. He hadn’t been sick in years. Was this karma for messing with a couple of kids?

 

 

Meanwhile, those very kids were standing at his door.

“Strange,” Mia said. “Where’s Ahjussi?”

“...Who cares,” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered. “We have to go.”

“He kept coughing yesterday,” Mia said. “Maybe he’s sick?”

“And he got soaked in the rain the day before,” she added, dealing the final blow. “He was too busy patching you up to even change his own clothes.”

Chapter 3

“You look really sick,” the female teacher said. “Aren’t you going to rest?”

“I’m fine… Ahem.”

Even Kim Dokja himself knew that didn’t sound convincing. His voice was dry and scratchy, like a withered leaf that crumbled at the slightest touch. “Whether I’m here or at home, it’s the same… Ahem!”

“Stop talking,” the teacher scolded. “Have you gone to the hospital?”

Kim Dokja weakly waved his hand. “No need. I have medicine.”

She looked him up and down several times, finally giving in with a sigh. “Alright, but please take care of yourself. If you feel worse, make sure to contact your family.”

“…Okay.” Kim Dokja nodded with effort.

 

 

 

He’d taken every cold or cough-related pill he could find in his home medicine cabinet, but the symptoms only got worse. By the afternoon, he was practically coughing his lungs out. His head spun so badly he couldn’t even read the price tags. A few customers were so alarmed they kept asking if he needed to go to the hospital. In the end, he had no choice but to hang the “Closed Early” sign, sneak out through the back, and drag himself home. He didn’t even have the strength to change clothes, just collapsed onto the sofa, pulled a blanket over himself, and drifted into a fevered daze.

He was jolted awake by a thunderous banging on the door. The sun had already dipped low outside the window. The moment he inhaled, a violent coughing fit overtook him. His lungs and stomach throbbed with pain, forcing him to curl into a ball. Tears streamed from his eyes as the knocking grew louder, now sounding like someone was about to punch the door down. Faintly, he could hear a little girl’s anxious voice calling out…Wait. A little girl?

Did Yoo Joonghyuk, this little sunfish get into trouble again?

Kim Dokja wiped his face and dragged himself to the door. When he opened it, he found Mia standing outside, just like the day before, eyes red, stomping her foot in frustration. Her mask was crooked, and by her side was a tray with… a bowl of porridge and a few side dishes?

“Mia?” Kim Dokja asked.

Mia stared at his face, then gasped sharply.

“Oppa!!” she cried, turning around in a panic. “Ahjussi looks like he’s dying!!”

“I’m not dying,” Kim Dokja rasped out. “It’s just a cold—”

“Ahjussi sounds like he’s dying too!” Mia shouted even louder.

Yoo Joonghyuk strode out from the half-open door next door. He pulled Mia aside and fixed Kim Dokja with a gaze like a steel drill.

“…I don’t look that bad, right?” Kim Dokja whispered, “Right?”

“You look dead,” Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly. “Get back inside.”

Kim Dokja stumbled backward into the house, only to have the two of them follow right in. One grabbed his arm, the other pushed his shoulder, and together they herded him back onto the couch. Mia twisted around to bring in the tray of porridge.

Kim Dokja tried to protest. “You shouldn’t come in. What if you catch it—”

“Can you shut up? You sound like a duck,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “We’re not as fragile as you.”

If he weren’t so sick, Kim Dokja would’ve made this punk recite the moral code about respecting elders. But his throat was killing him, so he reluctantly clamped his beak shut. His eyes, though, kept darting between the two siblings. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, a grown man catching a cold and alarming two kids like this.

“Ahjussi, have you eaten today?” Mia asked.

He’d ordered delivery at noon, taken one bite, and given up because swallowing hurt too much. He didn’t feel hungry now either, just lightheaded, like the world was tumbling inside a washing machine. Still, he nodded. He couldn’t let the kids think an adult couldn’t take care of himself over a minor cold.

“But Oppa made you porridge—”

“That’s just leftovers,” Yoo Joonghyuk interrupted.

Mia glared at her brother but didn’t argue. “Do you want some?”

Kim Dokja looked at the porridge. He still had no appetite, but since the two of them had gone through the trouble, he carefully took the bowl and sipped a spoonful.

He wasn’t expecting anything, certainly not from a high school student’s cooking. It was just plain rice boiled in water. As long as it filled his stomach, what more could it offer?

But this was the first time he ever tasted that so-called “rice oil” in porridge. The grains had bloomed into soft, fluffy puffs, with a faint milky aroma that melted down his throat like fruit puree. The temperature was perfect—gentle and soothing, coating his raw throat like a warm balm.

He grabbed the spoon and polished off the bowl in one go. When only the bottom was left, he suddenly remembered the side dishes and quickly gave each a taste.

A small salad of egg and lettuce, a few slices of apple and orange, and a piece of tofu drizzled with sesame dressing. In the end, he cleaned the entire tray.

After eating, he set the bowl down and looked toward Yoo Joonghyuk, who was standing by the cabinet with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on him. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Yoo Joonghyuk looked away first.

“Stop talking. Just go to sleep,” he ordered.

Kim Dokja stood up. Maybe this was karma. It was his turn to be bossed around by Yoo Joonghyuk. But his head was spinning again, so he obediently drifted into the bedroom, wrapped himself in the blanket, and just before closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but mumble, “If you need it, the computer—”

“I said shut up,” Yoo Joonghyuk snapped.

 

 

 

Kim Dokja was woken again by the sound of knocking.

It was still dark outside. He grabbed his phone—barely past ten. Not even midnight yet. Who could it be at this hour? he thought groggily.

He felt slightly feverish, the heat trapped inside his body, refusing to disperse. His limbs were weak, as if drained of all strength. Maybe Mia had come looking for her brother? He pulled the blanket over his ears, but it didn’t block the noise. A moment later, he heard a girl’s voice calling out “Oppa!” in alarm, followed by several deeper voices, saying something about being police.

Kim Dokja forced himself to sit up, nearly blacking out in the process. He clutched his forehead, breathing hard. Outside, the conversation had already begun.

“You’re Yoo Joonghyuk, student at XX High School, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you the night before last, around 10:30 p.m.?”

“…”

“Don’t lie. We’ve got the PC bang surveillance footage. You got into a fight there, didn’t you?”

Damn it, Kim Dokja thought. Why would the police be here? Those kids were clearly troublemakers; they wouldn’t go to the police. And the PC bang owner, letting minors in behind the scenes, wouldn’t want to stir up trouble either. So then…

“We’re not here to give you a hard time,” another officer said. “Relax. Scuffles between minors aren’t a big deal. But there was a man who joined in, right? He injured two of the students. One of their parents filed a report. We’re here to find that man.”

“I don’t know him.”

“Really? Because the footage shows him dragging you out. And this isn’t your home, is it? Why are you here instead of your own place? Who owns this unit?”

Footsteps moved toward the bedroom. Someone seemed ready to enter but was stopped.

“He’s got nothing to do with this,” Yoo Joonghyuk snapped. “I don’t know that guy. He dragged me out and disappeared.”

“That’s for us to determine,” the officer replied. “Step aside—”

Just then, Kim Dokja opened the bedroom door. He could barely stand and had to lean against the frame. His voice was weak: “What’s going on?”

“Are you the owner of this unit?” one of the officers asked.

“Yes.”

“Your name?”

“Kim Dokja.”

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“I have a slight fever,” he said. “Got caught in the rain the night before last. Or… I’m not sure.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes widened, like he was furious Kim Dokja would say the truth so stupid out loud. The officers, meanwhile, all perked up like hounds catching the scent of blood.

“Where did you go that night?” one of them asked. “Why were you out in the rain?”

“His sister couldn’t find him,” Kim Dokja said calmly. “She came to me for help, so we went out looking for him. Searched everywhere in the rain for half an hour. Couldn’t find him. Came back, and turns out he was already home. We asked him what happened, but he wouldn’t say. So, what did this kid do?”

“We’ll explain once we bring you in for questioning,” the officer said. “Please bring your ID.”

“I already told you, he has nothing to do with—”

Kim Dokja tried giving Yoo Joonghyuk a warning look, but the boy wouldn’t even look back. So he reached out and placed a hand on Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm, gently pressing down to shut the kid up before he said something even more reckless.

“…I don’t really understand what’s going on yet, but okay.” Kim Dokja said softly. “Just a moment.”

He turned back into the room, fetched his ID, and handed it over. As he moved toward the officer, he casually leaned closer to Yoo Joonghyuk’s side, preparing for the next part of his act. His heart was pounding a little. He hadn’t had time to coordinate anything with Yoo Joonghyuk. God knew whether the hot-headed kid would play along.

The officer glanced over his ID, then paused. His eyes widened as he read the text again, more slowly this time.

Now was the moment. Right on cue, Kim Dokja’s vision blurred with a wave of dizziness, his knees going soft beneath him. He leaned toward Yoo Joonghyuk and clung to the boy’s arm like his bones had vanished. His head dropped onto the teen’s shoulder, and the cool touch of skin made him let out a faint sigh. The heat on his face was unbearable, and he instinctively pressed his burning cheek closer. He could feel Yoo Joonghyuk’s body tense like a drawn bowstring, but thankfully, maybe out of shock, he didn’t push him away.

“You’re an Omega?” the officer asked in surprise. He handed the ID to his colleagues, who all took turns staring, heads lifting and lowering, as if checking that the face on the card matched the man in front of them.

Kim Dokja used the distraction to dig his nails into Yoo Joonghyuk’s forearm, warping the boy’s stunned expression into a grimace of pain.

“Yes,” Kim Dokja replied. He silently thanked the virus for making it easy to fake this fragile, helpless look—half-dazed eyes, ragged breath, clinging like a baby animal to a kid who was almost definitely going to present as an Alpha. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no, not at all.” The officers quickly passed the ID back, now looking awkward. “Apologies. We must’ve misunderstood. Sorry to disturb your rest. We’ll be on our way.”

“That’s it?” one officer muttered. “Then we’re completely out of leads. But his build really matches the guy in the footage.”

“What do you want to do? Accuse an Omega of beating up two Alphas by himself? You gonna tell that guy his precious Alpha son got suplexed by an Omega on the verge of heat?” Their voices were hushed, but Kim Dokja heard every word. “Let’s go. Now.”

 

 

 

Once the door closed behind the police, Kim Dokja finally let out a long breath. He looked up at Yoo Joonghyuk—those stormy, wide eyes still filled with shock. He forced a reassuring smile. But the burning tightness in his throat surged all at once. A fit of coughing overtook him before he could get a word out. Doubled over, he clutched Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm and dropped into a crouch, hand over his mouth, struggling to catch his breath between the harsh coughs.

He heard footsteps rushing over..

“Ahjussi, are you okay?” Mia asked, voice trembling.

Why’s she worried about me? Kim Dokja thought, a little dazed. She was the one who just got her door banged open by police in the middle of the night. She should be clinging to her brother right now, not trying to comfort him. He tried to lift his head to say something, but another round of coughing forced him into a ball again.

“Go get some water,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Kim Dokja felt a pair of hands land awkwardly on his back, trying to help him breathe. Then a glass of water was brought to his lips. He managed a sip, choked, nearly coughed it all over Yoo Joonghyuk, and had to try two or three more times before he could swallow half a glass.

Finally, he could breathe again. He wiped his face with both hands。

“What the hell did you do the night before last?” he rasped. “Those guys were clearly no joke. Otherwise, the police wouldn’t have—ahem—good thing they were all Betas, or they’d have—”

“Will you shut your mouth for one second?”

“You brat—ahem——You think this isn’t your fault—ah!”

Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly hooked an arm behind his knees and lifted him off the ground. Kim Dokja yelped in surprise at the sudden weightlessness. Before he could even react, he was unceremoniously dumped onto the bed like a corpse being tossed into a river.

Yoo Joonghyuk turned on his heel and stormed off, only to return moments later with a first-aid kit. He tore open blister packs with all the grace of a beagle destroying a couch, scattering packaging everywhere. But somehow, the way he pressed the pills into Kim Dokja’s mouth, and poured him a little cough syrup, was… surprisingly gentle. Maybe he’d done this for his sister before.

Kim Dokja didn’t bother resisting. He obediently took the medicine, followed by a few sips of cold water. The itch in his throat finally started to ease.

Just as he was about to speak again, he caught a glare sharp enough to cut steel. The kind of look that said, Open your mouth, and I’ll rip your throat out myself.

Was his voice really that unpleasant right now? Kim Dokja thought. Kids these days really had no manners.

So he shut his mouth, quietly sank into the pillow, and watched as the fury in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes slowly simmered down. The kid stood, turned, and walked out. A moment later, the sound of running water came from the kitchen. Then he was back, holding a dripping wet towel.

Before Kim Dokja could even say, That’s the dish rag, the towel was slapped onto his forehead. He stared at Yoo Joonghyuk in silent accusation.

“Anywhere else hurt?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked stiffly.

I’m fine, Kim Dokja thought. Aside from the fact that I now smell like old dishwater.

“Are you really an Omega?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked again.

“I am,” Kim Dokja replied, voice faint. “But—”

There was so much to explain. So many years tangled up in things he couldn’t sum up with the few raspy words his throat would allow. He paused, unsure where to even start. Judging from Yoo Joonghyuk’s personality, this half-answer would never fly.

“So why were you—on that night—” Yoo Joonghyuk sounded angry, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. “You’re an Omega—”

What’s that supposed to mean? Kim Dokja thought, exasperated. He had served a full year and a half of mandatory military duty. Aside from the designation on his ID, there wasn’t much left about him that fit the Omega mold. His gland had atrophied, his scent was gone, even his heat cycle had vanished. The doctor who gave him his conscription exam hadn’t noticed a thing. He just tossed him into the front lines like any regular Beta.

“That’s discrimination against Omega—Ahem.”

“Can you just lie there and stop talking?”

You’re the one asking all the questions. Kim Dokja was fuming. Was he supposed to open his mouth or keep it shut?!

Thankfully, Yoo Joonghyuk finally resolved his own logic. After a moment, he grumbled, “Do you have a spare key?”

Kim Dokja blinked, silent.

“I’m taking Mia home,” Yoo Joonghyuk added. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning to see if you’re still alive.”

It took Kim Dokja a few seconds to process that. Then he remembered: tomorrow was the weekend. Maybe this kid just wanted to come over and play video games. He pointed at his nightstand.

Notes:

Yoo Joonghyuk’s POV
Panicked, shocked, confused, guilty, thoroughly seduced, and somehow roped into an impromptu performance of “Me and My Sugar Daddy Omega” with zero prep time.

 

Kim Dokja’s POV:
He threw a rag over my face, complained my voice was annoying, and he wanted to sat next to my corpse to play video games.

Chapter 4

Kim Dokja had woken up before Yoo Joonghyuk arrived.

No fever, no pain, just a lingering dryness at the back of his tongue. He took a sip of water from the glass by his bed and swallowed away the last of the symptoms. In fact, after this solid sleep, he felt surprisingly refreshed.

He got up, changed out of his pajamas, took a shower to wash off the clammy sweat, and was towel-drying his hair when he heard the front door lock click open. Peeking out from the bathroom, he spotted Yoo Joonghyuk holding a plastic bag, hair a complete bird’s nest, looking like he’d sprinted over straight from bed.

"Here to game this early?" Kim Dokja asked.

"You…" Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him in disbelief. "You’re okay?"

"Looks like it," Kim Dokja shrugged. "Tragically, not dead. No inheritance for you."

He resumed his grooming, ignoring the stunned Yoo Joonghyuk. When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, feeling human again, he found Yoo Joonghyuk sitting on the couch with the med kit open in front of him.

"I'm fine now," Kim Dokja said.

"You still need to take your meds," Yoo Joonghyuk replied, gesturing at a nearby lunchbox. "And eat."

Kim Dokja blinked, scratching his neck, trying to make sense of the situation. He walked over, reached out to touch Yoo Joonghyuk’s forehead, only to get his hand slapped away.

"No fever?" Kim Dokja muttered.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression contorted into something truly complicated.

"Where’s Mia?" Kim Dokja asked. He patted the boy’s shoulder and sat beside him, noticing the slight flinch and the inch of distance Yoo Joonghyuk immediately added between them. He frowned, understanding dawning. The kid must’ve gotten tested and found out he was probably going to become an Alpha.

"Joonghyuk," he said gently. "It’s just a label on my ID. You don’t have to act overly cautious around me."

"...It’s fake?" Yoo Joonghyuk’s head snapped up.

"...That’s not what I meant," Kim Dokja said, exasperated. What kind of spy thriller was this kid imagining in that head of his? "I was supposed to be presented to an Omega. I just… forcibly stopped the process."

"How? Why?" Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

Kim Dokja hummed thoughtfully, then posed a question instead: "Say you were in my shoes, and the doctor told you you’d become an Omega. What would you do?"

He met Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes squarely. The boy’s pupils dilated a little. Kim Dokja knew he understood. Stubborn as he was, Yoo Joonghyuk was still a smart kid at heart.

Leaning forward, he picked up the lunchbox Yoo Joonghyuk had brought. Inside were neatly cut egg pancakes. He took a bite, and the fluffy texture paired with the aroma of green onions nearly brought tears to his eyes.

"It’s the weekend. Planning to game today?" Kim Dokja asked after finishing. Still ravenous, he resisted the urge to lick the last crumbs out of the box. Dignity first. He set the box down and turned to Yoo Joonghyuk, who was still lost in thought. "I’m heading to the shop later. You can hang out here. If you’re worried, Mia can come too."

"I’m taking her to the park," Yoo Joonghyuk said.

"Cool," Kim Dokja smiled. "You’ve got a key now. Come by anytime, no need to check in with me."

"..." Yoo Joonghyuk opened his mouth but said nothing. He stood up stiffly. "I’m heading out."

He grabbed the empty lunchbox, along with all the precious crumbs inside, and slammed the door behind him. Probably his version of saying “thank you,” Kim Dokja figured. Though with how old this place was, if Yoo Joonghyuk kept slamming the door like that, it’d retire early.

 

 

At the secondhand bookstore, Kim Dokja had barely sat down when a familiar face appeared. A brunette woman hovered at the entrance for a moment before walking in, surprised.

"Oh? You’re looking way better! Did you go to the hospital? I was really worried—"

"Worried about what?" Kim Dokja asked.

"Nothing, nothing," she waved her hands. "Just glad you opened the shop today. I thought it might be closed."

"It’s Saturday, isn’t it?" Kim Dokja said. "Shouldn’t schools be off today?"

"Don’t even get me started." She sighed dramatically. "Being a teacher means losing sleep for every stupid thing your students do."

"I won’t tell anyone," Kim Dokja said, recognizing the look. She clearly had a stomach full of gossip and nowhere to unload it. He zipped an imaginary zipper across his lips. "I swear."

"Well… alright." She relented. "There are a few second-year boys from rich families who don’t give a damn about studying. We can’t do anything about them. A few days ago, they caused trouble at a PC bang, bullied a first-year, and got beaten up by some adult who came out of nowhere."

The very culprit went completely silent.

"But that’s not the worst part," she continued, face wrinkled with concern. "The next day, those punks brought weapons and tried to set up a fight, told the first-year to bring that adult with him so they could settle it back at the PC bang."

"...?" Kim Dokja’s face twisted. What the hell? He thought Yoo Joonghyuk brought the knuckle dusters just in case, not that he was expecting a full-on street brawl. He was definitely going to lecture that brat later.

"But apparently something went sideways. While they were waiting to ambush the kid, the group turned on each other. One thing led to another, two ended up seriously injured, three more with minor wounds. All got carted off in ambulances. Now their parents are flipping out, storming the school. They’re demanding to find that adult and make him take responsibility. Who knows if they’ve found him yet. But honestly... I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Those brats had it coming."

Kim Dokja wisely said nothing. He didn’t dare say anything. Instead, he quietly took the book from her hands, scanned the barcode, and handed it back.

"All set."

"Huh? I didn’t pay yet."

"This one’s on the house. Store promo. Buy ten, get one free. You’re a regular. You’ve bought plenty."

"But this one looks pricey…"

"Haha," Kim Dokja deflected smoothly. "Looks like it’s about to rain."

 

 

 

It was indeed raining.

Around five in the afternoon, the downpour started all of a sudden, pelting the windows with sharp, rhythmic taps. A book lay open in front of Kim Dokja, but he couldn't focus. In ten minutes, he managed only a single line. The morning conversation kept replaying in his head, making him cover his face in embarrassment.

Only then did it occur to him, if those people were giving the teachers a hard time and combing the school for him, they’d definitely go after Yoo Joonghyuk too. He had no idea if that guy had gotten into trouble.

Speaking of which, with rain like this, did the two of them even bring umbrellas? Were they home yet?

As he was thinking, he spotted a child with a little blue umbrella bouncing through puddles toward his shop. She was holding something in her hand, leaving no way to pull the door open herself. Kim Dokja stood up to help her.

"Mia?"

"Ahjussi!" Mia darted inside and curiously looked around. "Whoa, this place is huge!"

"What are you doing here in this rain?" Kim Dokja asked. "Where's your brother?"

The moment he brought up that person, he recalled what the teacher said this morning and felt his temper flare again. That little punk. getting provoked so easily and going straight into a brawl. Just wait until he—

"I came to deliver this." Mia lifted the lunchbox in her hand. "My brother said this is tonight's internet fee. You haven't eaten yet, right?"

Kim Dokja’s anger was instantly doused, like leftover firewood still warm but no longer burning. He hesitated a little, then accepted the dripping plastic bag and peeked inside to see the familiar lunchbox. Thinking of the feast this morning and yesterday, his stomach promptly betrayed him with a loud growl. Mia gave him a disdainful look.

"Why’d your brother send you out in the rain?" Kim Dokja asked, trying to sound stern.

"I wanted to come see your shop," she said, already wandering off, completely on her own terms. She poked around the display cases, stretched on tiptoe to pull books off the shelves. Kim Dokja followed with his lunchbox, shoveling kimchi fried rice into his mouth while nervously trailing her, afraid she’d bump into something.

"Hey—" came an annoyed shout from the front door. "Anyone here? If no, I’m not returning the book!"

"I’m here." Kim Dokja went out and found it was the same college student from two days ago.

"Where were you yesterday?" she grumbled, peeling off her wet raincoat. "I came all the way here to return a book and your place was closed—wait, huh?"

Mia peeked from behind him, and Han Sooyoung’s eyes went wide. She stared at Kim Dokja, her voice tripping over itself: "Y-You... is this your daughter? You already have a kid?!"

"Don’t talk nonsense," Kim Dokja said flatly. "She’s my neighbor."

"Tch." Han Sooyoung leaned in nosily. "What’re you eating? Smells amazing. Which restaurant is that from? I’ve tried every takeout place around here and never smelled that before."

"What are you doing?" Kim Dokja lifted his lunchbox out of her line of sight. "This was made for me personally."

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized just how smug he sounded—like a dad showing off a handmade gift from his child. Han Sooyoung caught the tone instantly and recoiled in exaggerated disgust: "Ugh. The stench of puppy love."

"Why’d you come out in this rain anyway?" Kim Dokja changed the subject. "Don’t tell me it was just to return a book."

"I need to do some research," Han Sooyoung said. "Our school library’s crap. Your tiny shop actually has more useful stuff."

"If you hate it so much, then leave."

"Nope."

"Ahjussi, I’m heading back," Mia said, wrinkling her nose. "My brother’s still waiting for me."

"Wait." Seeing her about to head into the rain, Kim Dokja quickly pulled her back. "Don’t go out that way. Use this one."

He led Mia into the storeroom and through a back entrance.

"Whoa, is this a secret passage?"

"If anything ever comes up, just come find me through here," Kim Dokja said. "Your brother has the key."

What Kim Dokja meant by "anything coming up" was basically if Yoo Joonghyuk did something stupid again. What he didn’t expect was that this would become the official delivery route for daily dinners. Weekend or weekday, Mia would show up with a neatly packed meal—as it turned out, Yoo Joonghyuk had started cooking an extra portion for him every single day.

When Kim Dokja got off work, he’d come home to the sound of a raid being commanded from the study. Sometimes he’d see Mia scribbling furiously over her homework at the dining table. Kim Dokja would clean the empty lunchboxes in the kitchen, cut up some fruit, and bring out two plates—one for Mia, one for the study. Most of the time, Yoo Joonghyuk would ignore him, but sometimes Kim Dokja caught him between battles.

"How come I never see you doing homework? Don’t you have any?"

"This guy’s begging you to become one with him, why ignore him?"

Yoo Joonghyuk’s patience usually lasted three to five comments. After that, he’d kick Kim Dokja out of the study.

Life settled into a quiet rhythm inside the building. Occasionally, Kim Dokja took a stroll along the leafy street in the mornings, wandering a kilometer or so before circling back. One day he even ran into Han Sooyoung, who stared at him with twitching lips: "You look like a retired grandpa."

Kim Dokja pretended not to know her.

The only real disruption came on another rainy afternoon, a month later. Kim Dokja was neck-deep in accounting work at the store when he noticed a group of students clustered outside, whispering with anxious expressions. The crowd kept growing.

Curious, Kim Dokja opened the door and saw what they were gathered around—a tiny calico kitten, no bigger than a palm. It was soaked through, shivering in the corner.

"Poor thing... if no one takes it in, will it freeze to death?"

"But my mom won’t let me have pets..."

"My dad’s allergic..."

As the girls fretted, Kim Dokja crouched down beside the kitten and reached out to check its temperature. The kitten blinked up at him with pale green eyes, then suddenly wobbled to its feet, let out a weak meow, and pressed its body firmly into his hand.

By the time Mia arrived with the meal, Kim Dokja had already taken the kitten to the vet, gotten a checkup, named her Biyoo, bought food, a litter box, and a few toys, and returned to the shop. Now fed and warm, Biyu was roaming the store with newfound curiosity. Mia was instantly smitten.

Half an hour later, Yoo Joonghyuk stormed into the shop like a thundercloud, looking for his AWOL sister. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment Biyoo, newly comfortable and perched on Mia’s lap, sniffing freeze-dried chicken treats, got spooked by the loud footsteps. She leapt in the air and darted under the cabinet, hissing furiously.

"Oppa!" Mia shouted. "You scared her!"

Yoo Joonghyuk dropped to the floor to coax the kitten out. The moment his hand reached under the cabinet, he recoiled as if electrocuted. His fingers came back dusty, marked with two vivid scratches. The hissing under the cabinet grew louder.

"Stop making it worse," Kim Dokja said, shoving him outside and tossing over two Band-Aids. "Go stand over there."

It took ten minutes of crawling and coaxing with treats to lure Biyoo back out. Kim Dokja scratched her chin, patted her head, and finally regained her trust. Mia tiptoed over to pet her gently. When the kitten started purring again, Mia carefully gathered her back into her arms.

Only then did Kim Dokja remember someone had been left outside. He stood, walked to the front, and opened the door. Yoo Joonghyuk was pacing irritably, arms crossed and fuming.

"No loud voices," Kim Dokja warned. "No stomping. Be gentle. Don’t scare her again."

Yoo Joonghyuk snorted, but reluctantly nodded. Only then was he allowed back inside.

The kitten immediately panicked, struggling in Mia’s arms. But Mia held her firm and soothed her, rubbing little circles into her back until Biyoo calmed, ears drooping, eyes fixed warily on Yoo Joonghyuk.

That stare was like a petrification spell, and Yoo Joonghyuk froze in place. "Try petting her," Mia whispered.

He reached out one finger and touched the kitten’s forehead. She flinched. He pulled back. They both stayed still for a moment. Then, Biyoo stretched her neck forward, sniffed his hand, and pressed her damp little nose into his palm.

Watching from the side, Kim Dokja felt his heart melt like honey in a warm hand. The scene was too adorable, like a big dog meeting a tiny kitten for the first time. And Yoo Joonghyuk’s head, with all that black hair, was right there in front of him, so really, he couldn’t be blamed. Without thinking, Kim Dokja reached out and ruffled his hair.

The regret hit immediately. He braced for it—the angry sunfish, the swatted hand, the scared kitten, and Mia stomping his feet. But to his surprise, Yoo Joonghyuk only tensed up and stayed perfectly still, letting it happen.

Maybe he was just trying not to scare the cat and upset Mia again? Kim Dokja figured, and took the opportunity to give his hair another satisfied rub before quickly retreating. "You guys play. I’m going to eat."

 

 

Biyoo grew up fast. In just over a month, the wobbly little kitten who could barely walk turned into a fluffy chaos gremlin scaling walls and bouncing off furniture like a house-trained tornado.

“Biyoo?” Kim Dokja was lying on the floor that day, screwdriver in hand, trying to assemble a newly bought table. The furniture in this old apartment had clearly lived through several eras, and things randomly collapsed like dominoes. He was focused on tightening a screw when something fuzzy scrambled up onto his stomach, stepped on his chest, and nudged his chin with a cold little nose.

“Ahh! That tickles—hey!”

His hands were all greasy, slick with engine oil, and he couldn’t spare a hand to move the little one away, so he could only speed up. Just as he was about to finish the job, there was a sudden BANG, followed by a crude curse: “Shit!”

Biyoo was so startled that she launched herself straight into the air from Kim Dokja’s chest. Her back paws kicked him square in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. Kim Dokja lay there for a full ten seconds, feeling like he’d died, before managing to push himself up. Dropping the screwdriver, he crawled out from under the half-assembled table and glanced toward the study, then at an equally startled-looking Mia.

“Has he been kind of... irritable lately?” Kim Dokja frowned. This wasn’t the first time.

Mia nodded solemnly and mimicked his frown with surprising accuracy.

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” Mia pouted. “He’s just been like this for days.”

Kim Dokja thought for a moment, then headed for the study. He opened the door to find Yoo Joonghyuk furiously hammering his keyboard, mouse clicks loud and violent. He didn’t even notice Kim Dokja entering. Kim Dokja crossed his arms and waited patiently. Once the dungeon clear notification flashed across the screen, apparently without the loot Yoo Joonghyuk had hoped for—the guy swore again under his breath.

Kim Dokja reached down and shut off the power button on the tower. The screen went black. Yoo Joonghyuk froze, then whipped around. “You—!”

“What the hell?” he growled in a voice barely restrained, anger radiating off him like a furnace. His face was flushed, his forehead beaded with sweat.

“Come with me. We’re going to the hospital,” Kim Dokja said.

“…What?”

“I think your presentation is starting early.”

 

 

“Your hunch was correct,” the doctor said. “Based on his hormone levels, he’s likely to present by next week.”

“Why so early?” Kim Dokja asked.

Yoo Joonghyuk sat beside him, practically vibrating with suppressed rage and discomfort. Alphas entering pre-presentation were notoriously sensitive to their environment. Kim Dokja had to keep patting his shoulder every few minutes to keep him from growling at the nurse.

“And you are?” the doctor asked.

“His brother,” Kim Dokja replied smoothly.

“Ah. Well, his bloodwork shows a 99% likelihood of presenting as an Alpha.” The doctor continued, “Typically, when an Alpha enters this stage early, it’s due to one of two reasons: either they’ve encountered an Omega with a high compatibility match, someone they’re romantically interested in—or, their current environment is placing significant stress on them. Enough to force early maturity in order to protect or care for others. Would either of these apply?”

Kim Dokja nodded thoughtfully. Yoo Joonghyuk never complained, but for a high schooler taking care of his elementary-aged sister all by himself, the weight he carried was no joke.

Kim Dokja glanced over, wanting to offer him a supportive smile, only to find the younger man’s face beet red, eyes darting away in pure refusal to look at him.

“Is there anything we should do?” Kim Dokja asked.

“Just make sure he is in a familiar, comfortable environment. And on the day of his presentation, someone he trusts should be with him. That’ll be enough.”

Kim Dokja drove them home in his beat-up secondhand car. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say a word the whole way back, propping his chin on his fist and glaring out the window. Even with his dulled sense of pheromones, Kim Dokja could practically feel the anxious fog radiating off him.

“We’ll be home soon,” he said gently.

“…What?” Yoo Joonghyuk finally glared at him.

“I heard Alphas get super sensitive during their presentation. You don’t like being around strangers, right? Just hang in there a bit longer. Just six minutes.”

“…”

Yoo Joonghyuk turned and looked at him like he’d just seen a thousand-year-old tree start talking.

“What?” Kim Dokja asked, puzzled, stealing a glance at him during a red light, only to notice the other’s face was way too red. Not just warm-from-fever red. A mental click went off: “…Wait. Don’t tell me you’re not presenting early because of stress…”

“Is there an Omega at school you’ve got your eye on?” he asked.

 

 

Six minutes later, Yoo Joonghyuk slammed the car door with a vengeance and stomped away.

Kim Dokja sighed. This bastard. Can’t he be a little nicer to the door? Why does he always have to slam things?

 

Chapter 5

“Don’t come over for the next two days.” Kim Dokja said, “If you really need the computer that badly, you can just move it to your place first.”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him like he didn’t understand a word. The closer it got to his presentation, the more irritable this guy became, specifically, refusing to listen and blowing up over the tiniest things. Kim Dokja rubbed his forehead and explained, “Your presentation is in two or three days. It’s better if you stay somewhere that makes you feel safe and comfortable.”

“I know you want to make money,” Kim Dokja added, “but skipping a couple of days won’t kill you. You’ve already cursed out half the people in that game anyway.”

Even so, Yoo Joonghyuk showed zero intention of leaving, standing there like a rock blocking the doorway. Kim Dokja pinched the bridge of his nose, turned around, and simply carried the monitor out himself, intending to hand it over. But the man kept his hands stiffly pressed against his sides, making no move to take it. After holding it until his arms ached, Kim Dokja gave up and dropped it onto the coffee table.

What the hell is this guy trying to do? Kim Dokja couldn’t figure it out.

“I already talked to Mia,” Kim Dokja continued. “She will stay home to look after you. If anything comes up and you need me, I’ll rush over. But otherwise, I’ll try not to bother you. I’m guessing you don’t want to see outsiders, right? The same goes for meals. You don’t need to cook for me for now. You don’t eat food other people make anyway, so use that time to stock up meals in your fridge.”

The more he talked, the more pissed off Yoo Joonghyuk seemed to get. With a sigh, Kim Dokja shut his mouth and gestured a silent, Do whatever you want, I’m done. Yoo Joonghyuk shoved past him, grabbed the monitor, and stormed into his study. A moment later, the sound of furious typing came from inside.

Is that game really that fun? Kim Dokja thought. This brat.

With no other choice, he went to discuss things with the more sensible, more mature Mia.

“If anything happens, call me immediately,” Kim Dokja said. “I’m at the shop. I’ll come right over.”

“Got it.” Mia nodded seriously.

“There are energy drinks here, some chocolate,” Kim Dokja raised the bag in his hand. “And these sprays that supposedly mimic Omega pheromones. I have no idea if they work, but you can keep them.”

“…Mm… okay.”

“How is he now?”

“…” Mia’s face scrunched up. She pouted and didn’t answer.

“What’s wrong?” Kim Dokja asked.

“If you’re that worried about Oppa, why don’t you come yourself?” she asked. “Can’t the shop close for a day?”

“It’s not about the shop.” Kim Dokja gave a helpless laugh. “Alphas are really sensitive to scents during presentation. I don’t think Yoo Joonghyuk would appreciate an outsider barging into his space. Of course, you’re different, you’re family.”

“But…” Mia opened her mouth, hesitated for a long moment, then said nothing.

“Anyway,” Kim Dokja said, “I’m counting on you to look after him.”

 

 

 

At two in the afternoon, he got a message from Mia.

[I think Oppa’s starting to present.]

[Is he okay?] Kim Dokja asked.

[He locked himself in his room,] Mia replied, then added, [His face is really red. He looks uncomfortable…]

She sent a crying emoji with tears streaming down its face.

Kim Dokja scratched the back of his neck and glanced at the warehouse door. Alphas during presentation were under the tidal wave of hormonal changes—sensitive, suspicious, and emotionally unstable. Most kids had parents to guide them through this hurdle. Yoo Joonghyuk, however, had to weather it on his own. Kim Dokja had already done everything he could, so all that was left was waiting outside.

Just as that thought passed his mind, his phone rang. The caller ID said Mia. He picked up immediately.

“Mia, what’s wrong?”

There was no answer, only heavy breathing, and faintly in the background, Mia’s panicked voice: “Oppa! Give it back!”

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja asked quietly.

Still no reply. He heard the rustling of blankets, like someone had wrapped themselves up together with the phone.

“Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja coaxed patiently. “Can you hear me?”

A muffled grunt. Then Kim Dokja said, “Give the phone back to Mia.”

“No.”

Well, that came out loud and clear. Kim Dokja sighed, feeling like he was trying to soothe a stubborn child. “Yoo Joonghyuk, if you don’t hand the phone to Mia, I’m coming over. You don’t want me showing up at your place right now, do you?”

The line went dead silent. Kim Dokja’s temper spiked. He stood up, scanned the room, and walked into the back room. “Can you watch the shop for me? Something came up.”

“What? Can’t hear you.” Han Sooyoung, sitting cross-legged inside, didn’t even look up.

“You can take a book for free,” Kim Dokja said. “Not the most expensive one.”

“Who are you talking to?” Yoo Joonghyuk growled from the other end.

“Give the phone to Mia, and I’ll tell you.”

Silence again. Kim Dokja had no choice but to unlock the warehouse door, ignoring Han Sooyoung yelling, “Then I’m taking the second most expensive!” He made it to Yoo Joonghyuk’s apartment door, hesitated for two seconds, then knocked.

Running footsteps inside. The door flew open, and Mia stood there looking… surprisingly calm, except for being a little out of breath. She grabbed Kim Dokja’s wrist and yanked him in without a word.

“Wait,” Kim Dokja instinctively tried to pull back. “What’s going on with your brother?”

“He’s fine,” Mia said. “He just wants to see you.”

“…What?”

Kim Dokja froze for a split second before Mia dragged him straight into Yoo Joonghyuk’s bedroom. The rest of the room looked okay, but the bed was a disaster—clothes and blankets piled everywhere like a storage dump, all covering a solid human shape. After some squirming under the layers, the creature finally emerged: Yoo Joonghyuk, hair sticking up, still in pajamas, glaring daggers at the intruder with a phone clutched tightly in one hand, call still connected.

“…Are you okay?” Kim Dokja ended his call and asked.

Nervous as he was, he walked over and placed a hand on the Alpha’s sweaty forehead. Warm, too warm, but still within reason. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips cracked, his gaze dazed and unfocused. Kim Dokja turned his head, reaching for the glass on the nightstand, when a strong hand clamped around his wrist.

“You—!”

The Alpha’s grip was terrifying. Kim Dokja tried to shake him off twice and failed. He could use a reversal technique he’d learned in the army, but seriously, he couldn’t pull that on Yoo Joonghyuk. So he lifted his free hand to shield his face instead and snapped, “You’re the one who made me come, can you not get physical—”

“Why do you keep trying to push me away?” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered.

“…?”

“He said, why do you keep pushing him away?” Mia cut in angrily. Kim Dokja spun around, only then remembering she was still there. “You don’t let him go to your place, or to the shop. You won’t come over, you won’t eat the food he cooks—”

“What?” Kim Dokja almost wanted to throw his hands up in surrender, but since one was trapped, he raised the other in mock oath. “I didn’t—”

“Do you hate my Oppa for presenting as an Alpha?” Mia interrupted, glaring like she wanted to kill him.

Kim Dokja stared, dumbstruck, glancing between the siblings. Who on earth would hate a man for presenting as an Alpha? Alphas had strong bodies, instincts that let them carve through this world and achieve greatness. They’d always been at the top of the food chain. Sure, during heats and presentation they’d briefly be ruled by hormones, turning irritable, sensitive, and paranoid, but—

His train of thought broke as his gaze landed on Yoo Joonghyuk, sitting on the bed, staring holes into him. …Okay, maybe a little too sensitive and paranoid. Then again, the kid was only fifteen, the age where attention meant everything, where thoughts spiraled in all directions. Maybe, just maybe, a little kindness from a strange adult was enough to send him into a storm of insecurity.

Kim Dokja sighed, pressed the Alpha’s shoulders down with his free hand, and forced him to lie back. Looking him straight in the eye, he said firmly, “I never thought that.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes screamed I don’t believe you.

“I’ll stay here with you,” Kim Dokja said at last. “Will that do?”

A grudging grunt was the only answer.

“Then Ahjussi will keep you company,” Mia asked, “and I’ll go do homework?”

Kim Dokja nodded, and Mia left, leaving the door ajar.

 

 

All things considered, aside from clinging to his wrist like a vice, Yoo Joonghyuk was fairly well-behaved for someone in presentation. Kim Dokja unwrapped an energy bar and held it to his mouth; Yoo Joonghyuk obediently took a bite. He held up a cup with a straw, and the kid dutifully drank two sips. Kim Dokja even noticed the chocolates he’d brought earlier sitting by the bed. With one hand, he awkwardly tore open a wrapper, broke a piece in half, ate one, and shoved the other at Yoo Joonghyuk, who promptly bit down on it—wait. Dogs can’t eat chocolate, can they?

Kim Dokja quickly shook his head and tossed out that disrespectful thought.

Seeing nothing else out of the ordinary, he pulled out his phone and started browsing for a new novel to read. About an hour passed when a knock suddenly sounded at the door.

Yoo Joonghyuk jerked upright, eyes fixed on the entrance with sharp vigilance.

“Is the shop owner here?” A woman’s voice came from outside. “Damn it, where the hell did he go? Left me alone at the shop.”

Then came Mia’s footsteps and the creak of the door opening. Kim Dokja was just about to get up and check when a sharp yelp rang out, followed by the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Fuck!!”

In the same instant, Yoo Joonghyuk lunged forward, yanking the completely unprepared Kim Dokja into his arms. One hand clamped down on his shoulder, the other wrapped around his waist in a bone-crushing grip. Kim Dokja swore he heard something in his shoulder blades creak under the pressure. The Alpha let out a low, savage snarl, the kind a beast makes when its territory is invaded.

“Is there an Alpha presenting in there?!” Han Sooyoung’s voice bellowed from outside. “The scent is overwhelming!”

Han Sooyoung’s an Alpha? Kim Dokja thought. Her shouting only made Yoo Joonghyuk more agitated, his arms tightening until Kim Dokja could barely breathe. Before his ribs snapped, he had to think fast. “Mia, tell her to keep voice down. Give her my number and…easy there!”

A moment later, the phone rang.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Han Sooyoung demanded the second he answered. “What’s going on?”

“Presentation,” Kim Dokja said shortly. Not because he didn’t want to explain, but because his face was mashed against Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder and he had zero air supply.

“This is what you ran off to handle? Since when do you take responsibility for your neighbor’s presentation?” Han Sooyoung was rambling, and Kim Dokja wanted nothing more than to slap a hand over her mouth. Every extra word she spat out made Yoo Joonghyuk squeeze tighter. “The shop’s swarmed with people asking for this and that! How the hell should I know where your stuff is?!”

“Then close the shop for me,” Kim Dokja said. He couldn’t breathe anymore, so he cut the mic on his end, wildly smacked Yoo Joonghyuk’s arm with his free hand, the sound echoing sharp and loud. “Let go! Damn it—”

“No.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was muffled, but firm. “You’ll leave.”

“I won’t leave,” Kim Dokja forced out patiently. “But if you don’t loosen up, I’ll die.”

After a long pause, Yoo Joonghyuk eased his grip, just enough for Kim Dokja to draw a shaky breath. Except then the Alpha buried his face against Kim Dokja’s neck, his hair brushing against the sensitive skin, prickling him until he flinched. Kim Dokja sucked in a few deep breaths, then glanced down at his phone, only to realize in his panic, he’d muted Han Sooyoung instead of himself. His side of the call was still broadcasting every sound.

He quickly unmuted Han Sooyoung. On the other end, silence heavy as stone.

“So this is how you ‘taking responsibility’” Han Sooyoung said at last, voice dripping with mock reverence.

“Do you know how to lock the door?” Kim Dokja ignored her.

“I don’t,” Han Sooyoung replied. “But I can hang a sign that says, ‘Owner currently risking life and limb to comfort an Alpha. Shop closed.’”

“I’ll have Mia come out and help you,” Kim Dokja said, pressing a hand to his temple. Remembering how Yoo Joonghyuk lost his mind the second he scented another Alpha, he added, “Just head back to the shop first.”

After sending Han Sooyoung off, Kim Dokja finally exhaled in relief and wriggled out of Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms like a slippery eel. His waist burned like fire. He was pretty sure there’d be handprints there. The kid looked up at him with eyes like a betrayed puppy, dark and wet.

“What is going on with you?” Kim Dokja sighed, resting his hand on the boy’s head, ruffling through the messy curls. Yoo Joonghyuk tilted his head, nuzzled his wrist, and muttered something under his breath. Kim Dokja leaned closer and realized he was repeating his name.

“You little brat.” Kim Dokja pinched his cheek. “Not once have you ever called me ‘hyung.’”

The more he thought about it, the more indignant he felt. He couldn’t resist pushing his luck. “Say it. Call me hyung.”

Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him. So Kim Dokja raised the stakes. “Maybe I should head back. Biyoo’s still home alone…”

“…” Kim Dokja pretended to pull his hand away, only for Yoo Joonghyuk to grab his wrist again and hold tight. Grinding his teeth, the Alpha finally opened his mouth, slow and begrudging—

“…Hyung.”

 

 

Kim Dokja sucked in a deep breath. He swore he heard something crash inside his chest, like a boulder plunging into a deep lake, sending water spraying everywhere.

That was way too cute. Kim Dokja thought. So this is what it feels like to have a little brother?

Chapter 6

“Can you at least try to look happy?” Kim Dokja asked. “We’re here to celebrate.”

They stood in the middle of a bustling crowd, jack-o’-lanterns swaying overhead, surrounded by people in every imaginable costume chattering away. A giant swing ride roared past them, spinning with passengers screaming at the top of their lungs. They were in an amusement park, a Halloween-themed amusement park, no less. Mia bounced beside them in a fluffy cupcake dress, a witch’s hat perched on her head, holding a tiny pumpkin lantern.

But Yoo Joonghyuk was clearly not enjoying himself. Kim Dokja knew this guy had always hated crowded places. He pressed both hands down on the other’s shoulders. “Come on, big star. You won’t have chances like this later, so enjoy it while you can, okay?”

The swing ride whooshed past again, drowning out whatever Yoo Joonghyuk muttered in reply, but Kim Dokja could guess: probably something like I wouldn’t come here anyway.

Ignoring him, Kim Dokja dragged him straight into the waiting line.

Two days ago, Yoo Joonghyuk officially signed his contract with the esports team. That meant no more financial worries, no more stressing over which college to attend. Kim Dokja was thrilled and immediately planned a day of celebration with Mia: shopping for new clothes, hitting the amusement park, and finishing off with a big feast.

Clearly, the main character of this party didn’t share his enthusiasm. If anything, he seemed to be getting more and more irritable, probably the excitement and sensory overload making Alphas around instincts leak a trace of pheromones. In the end, he clamped onto Kim Dokja’s arm like a vice, refusing to let go, his grip practically broadcasting this is all your fault.

“Just think of it as keeping Mia company.” Seeing that nothing else worked, Kim Dokja tried bargaining. “Two more rides and we’ll head home—”

He didn’t finish the sentence before a tall man passing by bumped his shoulder. Yoo Joonghyuk instantly snapped, yanking Kim Dokja backward so hard he nearly stumbled. The irate Alpha glared daggers at the two men. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Mia,” Kim Dokja said with a long-suffering sigh, “one more ride, and then we’re going for dinner.”

 

 

“Come on.” After finally dragging Yoo Joonghyuk back home, Kim Dokja felt a twinge of guilt. After all, he and Mia had completely ignored the guest of honor’s opinion. Back in his own room, he pulled out the gift he’d prepared yesterday. “Here. A present, to celebrate you finally being free from those crappy grades.”

Yoo Joonghyuk looked a little surprised as he took the box.

“Open it,” Kim Dokja said with a sly grin. “You’ll be using it soon.”

Two nights ago, he’d agonized over what to give Yoo Joonghyuk. A high-end set of kitchenware had crossed his mind, but that felt like giving a corporate drone a software bundle—pure exploitation. A desktop PC would’ve been perfect, but every time he’d brought up the idea, Yoo Joonghyuk’s reaction was so sharp it felt like Kim Dokja had suggested something outrageous, and Kim Dokja still had no idea why. So instead, the guy came over every night to borrow his computer. In the end, Kim Dokja handpicked a brand-new gaming console with a stack of popular game disks. Not that Yoo Joonghyuk would even need his help anymore, with his future salary.

Then, that night turned into a gaming night.

The three of them cycled through a bunch of titles before firing up Mario Kart. Yoo Joonghyuk had never played it before, but as a soon-to-be pro gamer, he got the hang of it instantly, and lapped Mia and Kim Dokja in the very first round. Kim Dokja and Mia exchanged a look and immediately declared a truce.

“Throw the banana peel at him! Mia!”

“Ahjussi! Ram him! Ram him!”

For three or four rounds, they waged war together. In the end, whether thanks to skill or sheer noise pollution from their constant yelling, Mia crossed the finish line half a second ahead of Yoo Joonghyuk. Kim Dokja, meanwhile, had just thrown his last banana peel at Yoo Joonghyuk, and crashed headfirst into a wall. He didn’t even bother finishing the race. Tossing his controller aside, he high-fived Mia. “Yes!”

“Mia.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice cut in. “Bedtime.”

Mia pulled a face, hopped off the couch, and headed to the bathroom, leaving Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk at opposite ends of the sofa. Kim Dokja cleared his throat. After all that shouting, his throat was rough, and his head was buzzing like it was short on oxygen. He flopped down on the cushions, legs slung unceremoniously over the armrest. Tilting his head back, he found himself bumping into Yoo Joonghyuk’s leg. When he looked up, the guy was suddenly sitting ramrod straight for no apparent reason, with Biyoo curled up asleep in his lap.

“You feeling sick again?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

For some reason, Kim Dokja had been catching little ailments the past two years, fevers, coughs, dizzy spells, but the symptoms always vanished after a night or two. He squeezed Biyoo’s paw, poking at the soft pink pads. “I’m fine.”

“I told you last time,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “If this keeps up, we’re going to the hospital.”

“I said I’m fine,” Kim Dokja replied, exasperated. “Don’t ruin Mia’s mood, okay?”

“Speaking of which…” Seeing that Yoo Joonghyuk still looked unconvinced, Kim Dokja switched topics. “You’re really not moving into the team dorm?”

“The club was in the same city, but their place was down south, and the team was all the way up north—a half-hour trip one way. They offered Yoo Joonghyuk a dorm, which he refused. Then they suggested a housing allowance so he could rent a two-bedroom nearby and bring Mia along, and he turned that down too.”

“It’d make school too far for Mia, and transferring wouldn’t be good for her,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “And… ”

“What?” Kim Dokja teased. “Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental about this old apartment?”

Joonghyuk turned his head away without answering.

“How long has it been? Almost half a year?” Kim Dokja asked suddenly, something clicking in his mind. “When’s your next rut coming?”

 

 

An Alpha’s presentation and their rut weren’t all that different—both made them sensitive, suspicious, and quick to anger. The only real difference was that during rut, an Alpha had… other needs to deal with.

Which meant Mia definitely couldn’t stay around an Alpha in that state. Last year, Kim Dokja’s solution had been to bring Mia over to his place. He’d cleaned up his bed, let Mia sleep there, and camped out on the sofa for a night or two. Sounded reasonable enough. Kim Dokja had worried that leaving Yoo Joonghyuk alone might lead to another meltdown like last time. But the problem hadn’t been Yoo Joonghyuk. It had been Mia.

She couldn’t sleep in an unfamiliar bed. That first night, Kim Dokja woke up in the middle of the night to find her crouched in a corner in her white dress, hair loose, playing with Biyoo like some horror-movie extra. It nearly gave him a heart attack. And in the mornings, she’d head to school only to realize she’d left her math book behind, or forgotten her craft homework at home. With the teacher’s “If you didn’t bring it, you didn’t do it” logic, Mia got chewed out more than once and came home fuming.

By the second heat, she’d had enough and pitched her own idea:

“If Oppa has to stay alone, can’t Oppa stay at your place? You can sleep in his room instead. Then I won’t have to move. And we can bring Biyoo here too.”

The suggestion had sounded like pure kid logic at the time. Yoo Joonghyuk had been in rut then, and within two days Kim Dokja forgot about it entirely. Until now. He brought it up as a joke, only to see Yoo Joonghyuk blink slowly, like he was actually weighing the feasibility of the plan in his head, and then fall silent.

What’s there to think about? Kim Dokja wondered. “What’s wrong? You think that’d work?”

“…It might work.” Yoo Joonghyuk had been looking at him, but now seemed deeply fascinated by the victory screen still frozen on the TV. There was even a flicker of guilt?

“Don’t Alphas need to stay in a familiar environment during rut?” Kim Dokja asked.

“I spend three or four hours at your place every day,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“…?” If Yoo Joonghyuk was willing to go through all this hassle for Mia, Kim Dokja had no reason to argue. Still, something about this didn’t feel quite right. “But—”

“…I’ll make sure it’s clean,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“That’s not what I meant.” Kim Dokja could practically see the steam of embarrassment rising off him—the awkward self-consciousness only teenagers carried. Quickly, he stepped in to smooth things over. He had zero curiosity about the details of how Yoo Joonghyuk handled rut, and after forcibly cutting short his own presentation, any lingering interest in that aspect had completely vanished. “If you and Mia are okay with it, then that’s the plan.”

 

 

Two days passed in a blink before Yoo Joonghyuk texted him. After work, Kim Dokja swung by to pick up Biyoo and headed home with one person and one cat. He’d braced himself—sure, Yoo Joonghyuk had promised to clean up, but an Alpha in rut could easily lose his head to all that pent-up frustration and wreak irreversible havoc.

Yet when Kim Dokja opened the door, he couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. The entire room was spotless. Fresh sheets on the bed, drawers scrubbed, floors gleaming, and a faint trace of air freshener in the air. Even the laundry basket in the bathroom, where he’d left a pile of clothes, was empty; everything had been washed, dried, and folded neatly. People said different Alphas had different quirks during rut, was Yoo Joonghyuk’s quirk obsessive cleaning?

That night, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t show up for gaming, nor did Mia drag him over for dinner. Instead, they reverted to the old routine: a lunchbox of home-cooked food delivered to his door. Curious, Kim Dokja asked, “Where’s your brother?”

“He said he has something to discuss with the team manager,” Mia replied. “But honestly, he looked like he was doing self-reflection.”

Finally hit adulthood and discovered guilt? Kim Dokja thought, oddly satisfied, though he had no clue what the kid was reflecting on. After finishing the meal, he washed the lunchbox and took it back, never catching a glimpse of Yoo Joonghyuk. Later, lying on his big bed under freshly laundered sheets scented faintly of soap, he melted into comfort. Humming under his breath, he buried himself under the blankets, didn’t even bother with his phone for once, and drifted off to sleep.

He’d expected a peaceful night. Instead, he woke the next morning with his head light, limbs heavy, and sweat soaking his shirt. Business as usual. Kim Dokja dug out the med kit, downed a cold pill combo, opened a can for Biyoo, and dragged himself to work.

Han Sooyoung walked in, stopped dead in the doorway, and exhaled like she was physically pained.

“Do you even know how strong your scent is right now?” she snapped. “Your poor neighbor, that Alpha must be on the verge of exploding.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kim Dokja said.

“Then pretend I didn’t say anything.” She rolled her eyes and dropped into her usual seat.

Kim Dokja stood at the front desk, checking stock. The words on the spreadsheet kept bouncing between rows and columns, never lining up. Maybe it was the winter chill, but cold was creeping through his veins straight into his organs, and his lungs felt frozen solid. No matter how hard he breathed, it wasn’t enough. Propping his head against the wall, he closed his eyes as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

This time… it felt worse. Maybe he should’ve listened to Yoo Joonghyuk and gone to the hospital sooner.

Through the haze, he heard Han Sooyoung’s startled shout, then her hurried footsteps storming into the back, racing toward his room, shouting mid-sprint, “What the hell, did you hide an Alpha here?! The scent is insane!”

The last thing he heard was a flurry of panicked footsteps.

 

 

 

“No inflammation, no viral infection… this is… this is bizarre.” The doctor frowned at the report, scratching his head. “Is he a Beta?”

“He’s an Omega,” Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly.

“What? That makes it even stranger. These hormone levels…” The doctor rubbed his neck. “You should head over to the ABO department and get checked there.”

“I’m not going.” Fever blurred Kim Dokja’s vision; the voices around him sounded like they were echoing underwater. Still, he managed to rasp out, “I’m fine…”

No one listened. He was wheeled into another room, hooked up to a mess of machines, and had vial after vial of blood drawn. The young doctor looked baffled, stepped out to make a call, and returned with two or three older physicians trailing behind. A storm of chatter broke out, medical terms flying around the room in dizzying waves, making Kim Dokja’s head pound even harder.

At last, the oldest of the group lifted a hand, and the others filed out, leaving only Yoo Joonghyuk, Mia, and a dazed Kim Dokja on the bed.

The elder sighed. “You two should step outside. This concerns his privacy—”

“No.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s jaw was tight.

“I’m not leaving either!” Mia shouted.

Knowing the two of them shared the same brand of stubbornness, and to prevent a war from breaking out, Kim Dokja croaked, “Let them stay.”

“What’s going on?” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded, sharp as a blade. “Why has he been sick like this for the past year?”

“I’m not going to ask how you managed it.” The doctor ignored him and turned to Kim Dokja instead. “You forcibly terminated your own presentation before, didn’t you?”

Yoo Joonghyuk fell silent on the spot. Kim Dokja, weak and dizzy, let out a faint hum of confirmation.

“Your glands, the corresponding olfactory nerves, your reproductive tract—every organ an Omega should have has atrophied severely, almost to the point of necrosis,” the doctor said. “Under normal circumstances, these systems would have no chance of recovery.”

Under normal circumstances? The phrase rang in Kim Dokja’s head like a gong. What the hell did that mean?

“I’ve never seen a case like this personally, but there are reports from overseas,” the doctor continued, casting a brief glance at the tense figure of Yoo Joonghyuk. “You’ve been exposed to high-concentration pheromones from a highly compatible Alpha for an extended period. On top of that, your instincts registered that you were in a stable, safe environment, which is safe enough to let you relax. Together, those factors triggered your body into accepting what it once rejected.”

“Chances are high you’ll enter a second presentation within a month,” the doctor concluded. “You’re going to become an Omega again.”

Chapter 7

Notes:

Warning: slight mention of bullying and past self-harm

“Hey.” Someone was talking. “Did you hear? That guy—yeah, that guy. I sneaked a look at his pre-presentation checkup results. He’s gonna present as an Omega.”

“No way. Him? An Omega? Who’d want a murderer’s son as an Omega?”

“Well, that’s true, but still, an Omega’s an Omega. Nobody cares about him anyway, so… hey, think we’ve got a shot—”

 

 

“Ahjussi?”

Kim Dokja jolted. His mind snapped back to the present, to the stark white sheets in front of him and his fingers twisted together in a tight knot. Another pair of hands gripped the edge of the bed. Slowly, his gaze shifted sideways, to find Mia, pale-faced and red-eyed, clutching the blanket, tense and worried.

He forced a smile. “What’s wrong, Mia?”

“Are you feeling sick? You look like you’re in pain.”

Kim Dokja let out a soft laugh. “Mia, I’ve been lying here for three days. I’m just dying to get discharged.”

“No way.” Mia’s concern snapped back into vigilance as she glared at him. “Oppa said you absolutely cannot leave.”

“He’s overreacting.” Kim Dokja sighed. “I’ve said it a dozen times. I’m fine.”

“Shut up. That’s not your call.”

Kim Dokja looked up to see Yoo Joonghyuk striding in, lunchbox in hand. A thick pheromone-suppressant patch was plastered to the back of his neck. This was ordered by the doctors after Kim Dokja was put under observation, to keep him from any Alpha influence. The damn thing had to be uncomfortable; Kim Dokja had caught him a few times, fingers twitching toward his nape, only to jerk back when they brushed the adhesive.

Yoo Joonghyuk set the lunchbox on the bedside table and turned to Mia. “What did the doctor say?”

“He said Ahjussi’s tests look fine.” Mia crossed her arms, a perfect copy-paste of Yoo Joonghyuk’s posture. “But Ahjussi looks awful.”

Yoo Joonghyuk bent down, locking eyes with him. Kim Dokja met the stare calmly, trying to let silence prove his point. But Yoo Joonghyuk only shook his head and pointed at the food. “Eat.”

“Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said, “you just signed that contract, didn’t you? Shouldn’t you be at the club?”

“I took time off.”

“That’s not great, is it?” Kim Dokja’s brow arched. “Your boss didn’t mind?”

“None of your business,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Mia glanced left, then right, caught between the two. Even she could feel the wall between them. Guilt pricked Kim Dokja’s chest. No matter what, he couldn’t drag Mia into this.

“Mia,” Kim Dokja said gently, “isn’t it about time? Lee Seolhwa’s coming to pick you up.”

Lee Seolhwa, a young doctor, student of the old man from before, had stopped by the room several times. She and Kim Dokja had chatted enough to learn they lived just a street apart, and she’d volunteered to take Mia home every evening. Kim Dokja had tried more than once to get Yoo Joonghyuk to go back with her, but the stubborn Alpha refused. He kept staying until nearly midnight before leaving.

Once Mia was gone, Kim Dokja turned back to Yoo Joonghyuk. He honestly didn’t know why this guy insisted on camping out in the hospital. It wasn’t like he was good company, just sitting there like a silent landmine, glaring daggers at every innocent doctor or nurse who walked in.

“Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja started, “I’ve said this already. This isn’t your fault. And I’ve had other Alphas around. Han Sooyoung hangs around the shop every day, maybe it was her scent that…”

“I’ll kill her.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was flat, his face like thunder.

“…No,” Kim Dokja said, “What’s going through your head? Don’t just say something that terrifying out of nowhere.”

“My point is—” Kim Dokja dragged the topic back by force, “my second presentation was bound to happen. It has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to cook for me every day. You’ve got school, you’ve got practice. Don’t you get tired running back and forth?”

“I’m not tired.”

Kim Dokja exhaled hard and gave up, opening the lunchbox. The food was still warm, worlds better than the sad trays the hospital provided. He ate quietly, but every bite sat like a stone in his stomach.

 

 

 

“All the indicators are stable,” said Lee Seolhwa. “It looks like you can be discharged tomorrow.”

Kim Dokja nodded.

“However, since this is a second presentation, there are many precautions,” the doctor continued. “First, for the next month, stay in a familiar environment with familiar people and maintain a regular routine. This will help stabilize your hormone levels. Also, for the first six months, do not take any suppressants. Your body can’t handle them.”

“Second, given your current organ development, your first few heats won’t be too intense. They’ll mainly involve nesting, not sexual—”

“Wait.” Kim Dokja cut her off. The doctor, apparently accustomed to Yoo Joonghyuk being present for everything, didn’t bother to avoid him. “Can you have him leave first? He’s not even an adult yet.”

“That’s your problem.” Lee Seolhwa gave him a strange look. “I’m not here to judge your private matters. But I do have an obligation to explain your condition to your Alpha.”

“Whose Alpha?” Kim Dokja asked.

“In any case, the first few heats will have short intervals and short durations. It’s recommended that you spend them accompanied by your Alpha,” the doctor went on. “But avoid any excessive activity. Marking is also not allowed. The newly regenerated glands can’t handle it.”

Kim Dokja looked helplessly at Yoo Joonghyuk. He thought the man would get up and leave, because this practically bordered on sexual harassment toward an Alpha. But Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t move. His expression was solemn and focused, even though his ears were red enough to steam.

“Third, come back once a month for a follow-up,” Lee Seolhwa said, handing Kim Dokja a stack of papers. “That’s all. I’ve listed your medication and precautions here. After you pick up the prescriptions, you’re free to leave. Contact me anytime if you have questions.”

Kim Dokja took the papers, thanked her, and stood up, only to hear Lee Seolhwa say, “You stay.”

She pointed at Yoo Joonghyuk. Kim Dokja could only leave the consultation room alone and close the door. The soundproofing was excellent; he couldn’t hear a thing. He picked up the prescription and saw, just as expected, that there were no suppressants.

He stood there for a while, looking out the window. It was a bright spring day. After a moment of thought, he left first.

 

 

 

He took a cab home and unlocked the door.

What greeted him was the familiar space: the worn-out sofa, the outdated storage cabinet, the heavy redwood TV stand that clashed horribly with a young man’s taste. Yet scattered among them were newer additions, like a comfortable ergonomic chair and a lazy person’s favorite, a robotic vacuum. The place looked mismatched, but he was used to it.

The doctor had been right. The moment he stepped inside, it felt like his heart, which had been suspended for days, finally settled back into place.

Now there was only one thing left to take care of.

Kim Dokja walked into his bedroom and rummaged through the storage cabinet. It had been too long; it took him a while to dig up what he was looking for: a cheap plastic bottle, wedged deep in the bottom shelf. He shook it, but heard no rattle. Unscrewing the cap, he saw a mass of white pills, clumped together from moisture. He turned the bottle upside down and tapped hard before the contents finally spilled out.

They were probably expired, Kim Dokja thought. But maybe they still worked.

He’d collected these back in high school. Because of the uncertainty of secondary gender, the school distributed a single suppressant pill to every student in case they presented as Omega and went into heat. Just one tiny tablet. The kids who were certain they’d become Alphas would throw theirs away on the spot, proudly, in front of everyone.

After school, Kim Dokja had gathered them all. There wasn’t much else he could do. All he wanted was to keep his life from becoming any more miserable than it already was.

On the night his presentation hit, he swallowed half a bottle in one go.

“Kim Dokja!!”

The roar stopped him cold—wait. What was he doing? Kim Dokja snapped out of his haze and looked at the white pills in his hand. For a moment, it felt like he’d been dragged nine years back, to the night he was about to cut his presentation short.

A hand seized his wrist. The pills and the bottle went flying. Someone yanked him out of the room and threw him onto the sofa. Then fingers clamped his jaw, prying his mouth open, like he was about to be forced to vomit.

“I didn’t swallow any!” Kim Dokja’s tongue was pinned down, his words garbled. He shoved at Yoo Joonghyuk, furious. “Let go!”

It took Yoo Joonghyuk a long moment to calm down. He released Kim Dokja’s chin, only to grab his collar and slam him back onto the sofa. Kim Dokja immediately twisted his arm, hooked his hand under Joonghyuk’s elbow, and jerked hard. Normally, the pain of an arm lock would make anyone let go. Yoo Joonghyuk only grunted, low and pained, but didn’t give an inch.

“Why did you leave first?” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded. “Where did you get that medicine?”

“Looked like that doctor wanted some private time with you,” Kim Dokja replied. “I thought I’d give you two some space—”

“Kim Dokja!” Yoo Joonghyuk’s growl was almost a snarl.

Kim Dokja drew two sharp breaths, ready to increase the pressure on his hold, then remembered this bastard was an esports player. He couldn’t risk injuring his hands.

That slip of focus cooled him a little. He realized belatedly that his whole body was shaking, and Yoo Joonghyuk’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his breathing ragged and uneven. Kim Dokja pressed a hand to his temple, forcing himself to think straight. He was an adult. He couldn’t let this conversation spiral like this.

He took several deep breaths, willing the tremor out of his palms. He noticed Yoo Joonghyuk mimicking him, trying to steady his own breathing.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said, “I don’t need to become an Omega.”

“Why?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

Why? Kim Dokja thought. Being an Omega wasn’t some curse anymore. This wasn’t the Dark Ages. They weren’t just lowly breeding tools. But people rarely shake off the shadows of childhood, do they?

“Because my life’s good right now.” Kim Dokja groped for words. “If I change, it’ll get complicated. Don’t you think? You’ve been through three ruts yourself. An Omega’s heat is worse.”

“But you can’t take suppressants.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was unyielding. “The doctor told me. I have to stop you. It’ll hurt you. You could even die.”

It would hurt, Kim Dokja thought. Ten years ago, he really thought he was going to die. But he hadn’t. The fever had burned out, the scent had faded. All he needed was to do it again, and he could go back to the fragile peace he’d clawed out for himself.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja tried to reason. “If I can’t use suppressants, I’ll have to handle the heat alone. That’s worse. Better one hard cut than endless pain, don’t you think?”

From the look in Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes, he didn’t agree with that at all. That Alpha’s gaze burned, sharp and relentless, full of thoughts Kim Dokja didn’t want to read.

“I know you’re worried,” Kim Dokja said. “But this will only make things harder for you and Mia. I’ll deal with it myself. Kids shouldn’t meddle in adult business.”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t budge, still pinning him down. Kim Dokja let out a long sigh.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Kim Dokja asked. “Download a dating app and find a random Alpha for a few nights? Or—”

He remembered what Lee Seolhwa had said. Ridiculous, Kim Dokja thought. Absolutely ridiculous. He was nine years older than Yoo Joonghyuk. How had she even twisted it into that? Still, it was the perfect way to piss him off.

“Or do you plan to handle this mess yourself?” Kim Dokja said, drawing out the words with deliberate carelessness. “My Alpha?”

 

 

The effect was immediate. For a second, Yoo Joonghyuk even forgot to breathe, staring at him in stunned silence.

Maybe that joke had gone too far. He shouldn’t be saying things like that to a minor. A twinge of regret pricked Kim Dokja. Maybe tonight he’d have to explain to Mia why her brother was raging like a bull...

“You said it yourself,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“What?” Kim Dokja snapped back from sifting through a dozen excuses, fixing his gaze on him. The guy’s eyes were burning so bright it looked like someone had set a fire inside. What the hell was he getting so worked up about? Kim Dokja stared back, utterly lost.

Chapter 8

As an adult, Kim Dokja thought, he should act like one. Which meant stopping a kid from making a stupid decision that they’d regret for the rest of their life.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said. “You haven’t thought this through. I’ll pretend you never said that.”

But Yoo Joonghyuk only looked at him with an indifferent, almost I knew you’d say that expression.

“I’ve said it five times already,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I know exactly what I’m doing. And you’re the one who started saying things like that.”

Are all kids like this? Kim Dokja wondered. Stubborn. Deaf to reason. Convinced their hormone-driven impulses were the wisest decisions in the world. The last time they’d hit this wall, the conversation had been cut off there. Going any further… Kim Dokja wasn’t sure he could say the words out loud. But time was running out. His presentation was coming, and this needed to end.

He drew a long breath and smacked the table lightly. Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t flinch, but he did sit across from him.

“Since you presented, you haven’t had much contact with Omegas, have you?” Kim Dokja asked.

“You’re an Omega,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“Technically, I’m not an Omega yet.” Kim Dokja replied. “So no, you really haven’t been around Omegas. Which might have… led to a certain…”

He waved his hands in the air, painfully aware of how absurd this was, giving a sex-ed lecture to an Alpha. After a pause, he found a word: “A certain repression.”

“I’m not sexually repressed.”

“You are,” Kim Dokja said. “If you went outside right now, any random Omega would look tempting—”

“I’m not a pervert.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice snapped like a whip. “Shut up, Kim Dokja.”

Kim Dokja ignored him. “If that’s not it, then why would you want to help me through presentation and heat? Even if you think my second presentation is your fault, that doesn’t mean—”

“Why can’t it be because I like you?”

The words sounded like they’d burst out, raw and unfiltered, and the second they landed, both of them froze. Kim Dokja blinked, staring at Yoo Joonghyuk, who looked upset—upset to the point of furious. He shoved the table aside, standing up so fast the chair screeched against the floor.

Kim Dokja opened his mouth to say something. This can’t be right. This shouldn’t be happening. Maybe it’s just a feeling that’s been twisted—a misunderstanding, born from loneliness and tangled with scraps of family and friendship. Yoo Joonghyuk’s been fighting alone for too long. Anyone who offered him a hand, he’d cling to and never let go.

But no sound came out. Because deep down, Kim Dokja remembered things, tiny details, little signs. Could he really claim he hadn’t noticed? He had. He’d just chosen to look away, praying time would smooth out the discord. However, Yoo Joonghyuk had only gotten crazier.

The slam of the door rang in his ears. Kim Dokja slumped back in the chair, the chandelier’s harsh light stabbing at his eyes until he lifted a hand to shield them. Maybe he should find a way to get suppressants. Even if they were prescription-only, someone would sell for the right price. Or maybe he should just download an app and call in a random Alpha for one night. None of these were good options. But they were still better than standing by and watching everything spiral into something he could never take back—

BANG!

The door flew open again. Yoo Joonghyuk stormed back in, grabbed him by the collar.

“Could you be nicer to my door?” Kim Dokja said flatly.

“No suppressants.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was a hard snarl. “And no other Alphas.”

“No one thought that.”

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes cut into him like lasers, peeling away skin to see what lay beneath. Kim Dokja lifted both hands in surrender. “It was just a passing thought.”

The look on Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was feral, like he’d swallow him whole in the next second.

They stared each other down in a long, suffocating silence. Then, grudgingly, Yoo Joonghyuk let go, hands braced on the back of the chair, pinning Kim Dokja in place. Kim Dokja shifted uncomfortably. The size difference alone was oppressive, and with his presentation looming, the pressure made his nerves prickle. At last, Yoo Joonghyuk stepped back, giving him room to breathe.

“…Sorry,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Kim Dokja rubbed the back of his neck and sniffed his fingertips. Nothing. “Is there a scent already?”

“A little.”

Kim Dokja’s face tightened. That was the part he hated most about presenting, the way pheromones betrayed your feelings. Anxiety. Fear. Pain. All the emotions would only fuel an aggressor’s frenzy.

“Kim Dokja.”

He snapped out of his spiral and looked down. At some point, the Alpha had sunk to one knee in front of him, a hand hovering just above his knee.

“Why can’t you let me help you?” His posture looked meek, but the question landed like a threat.

“Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said, realizing there was no way out, “if you help me, you’ll have to get me through heat. Do you even know what that means?”

“I’m only a little younger than you.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s teeth were clenched. “I’m not a kid.”

“It’s more than a little. And you’re not even legal yet.” Kim Dokja pressed his temples, feeling the full weight of Lee Seolhwa’s awkward silences. He was starting to feel like some creep preying on a kid. “You—”

“I can learn.”

“You can’t—wait.” Kim Dokja froze mid-word. “Learn what?”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer. He just looked up at him, breathing uneven, eyes burning hot enough to scorch. Kim Dokja slapped away the hand hovering over his knee. What kind of hell did he get himself into?

“I’m going to the shop,” he said at last, choosing escape. “You should go home. Mia’s waiting for you.”

 

 

 

“Ahjussi.”

A day later, Mia came by with food, her brows tightly knit. “My brother’s acting weird.”

“What happened?” Kim Dokja asked offhandedly.

“He’s in his room with headphones on. I don’t know what he’s watching. The moment I walked in, he slammed his laptop shut and snapped at me.”

Kim Dokja felt his headache spike. He thought of the bottle of suppressants Yoo Joonghyuk had dumped straight down the drain. He couldn’t drag this out any longer. He needed to get more pills before his presentation hit.

He searched until he found a shady-looking little clinic. The doctor agreed immediately when Kim Dokja mentioned how much he would like to pay. The next morning, he hung a “Closed This Morning” sign on the shop door. He had just slid into his car when his phone rang.

“Why aren’t you at the shop?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was sharp. “Where are you going?”

“How do you even know that?” Kim Dokja asked, and then looked up to see Han Sooyoung standing in front of his car. He rolled the window down. “When did you two meet?”

“Did you know,” Kim Dokja tried to pick a fight, turning to Han Sooyoung, “he keeps saying he’s going to kill you?”

“That’s your fault.” Han Sooyoung didn’t bite. “Now get out of the car and open the shop.”

“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice on the other end dropped to a threat. “Can you not make trouble for once?”

“If I remember right,” Kim Dokja sighed, “you’re supposed to be training. Can’t you focus? What if they kick you out?”

Silence stretched on the other end, heavy, like an unspoken accusation. Kim Dokja sighed again. He knew. If not for him, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be this distracted, this on edge. His career was only just beginning. Kim Dokja couldn’t keep shaking it.

“Go train,” Kim Dokja said at last. “I’m not leaving again.”

He locked the car and walked back to the shop with Han Sooyoung trailing behind. Unlocking the door, he went to his seat and flipped open a book, eyes skating over the page without taking in a single word. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

“Hey.”

Kim Dokja jerked in surprise. Han Sooyoung was propped against the counter, a lollipop in her mouth, eyes fixed on him. Kim Dokja inhaled, forcing a smile. “What is it?”

“That smile is hideous,” Han Sooyoung remarked. “What the hell is going on with you two?”

“How much do you know?” Kim Dokja asked.

“That bastard didn’t say much,” Han Sooyoung said carelessly. “But I’m an Alpha. I can smell it. And I’ve read about cases like this when I was researching for a novel. As for him wanting to sleep with you, I’ve known that even longer. If it weren’t for your damn books, I wouldn’t come near this place. I’m about to choke on the pheromones.”

“…” Kim Dokja’s headache pulsed harder. Do college kids just blurt this kind of crap out now? “I’m nine years older than him.”

“And your point?” Han Sooyoung said. “That you’re irresistibly charming? Though honestly, I don’t see it.”

“He’s underage.”

“An underage kid knows what they want better than an adult does.”

The conversation was heading straight into a wall. Kim Dokja gave up and played deaf.

 

 

 

Dragging on like this, Kim Dokja opened his calendar and saw that his expected presentation was almost here.

He pulled out his phone. The internet was full of guides: gentle-faced Omegas dressed in fluffy sweaters, demonstrating how to build a cozy nest out of loved ones’ clothes and scarves to weather the worst of the presentation period.

Kim Dokja tried, awkwardly. He practically emptied his wardrobe, even dug out the little crocheted dog Mia had given him, and dumped everything on his bed. After half a day of effort, the result looked like someone had overturned a dirty laundry basket.

The harder he tried, the more irritated he became. Finally, he kicked the whole mess off the bed, leaving only the blanket and comforter—plus Biyoo, who had climbed onto the bed at some point and was happily wriggling in the blankets like a caterpillar. Kim Dokja hauled a few books from the study, arranged them on the bed, and lay down among them with Biyoo in his arms. His stomach cramped faintly, like something twisting inside, so he curled up tighter. Biyoo, ever obedient, stayed nestled against him, warm little body pressing closer as if to soothe him.

At some point, he must have dozed off, because the ringtone startled him awake. A soft piano tune, yet it made his temples throb like needles. He muttered, switched off the phone, and closed his eyes again.

But this time, sleep wouldn’t come. He wrapped himself in layers of blankets until sweat soaked his skin, yet the cold wouldn’t leave; it made his whole body shake. When he sat up to get a glass of hot water, the moment his feet hit the floor, his knees gave out. He barely caught the nightstand, collapsed back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the room spun.

Damn it, Kim Dokja thought. He had known this would happen. He should’ve ignored Yoo Joonghyuk’s stubbornness and gotten that suppressant. He hated himself like this, weak, useless. He’d fought so hard to grow up, and here he was again, helpless as a child. Biyoo mewed in frantic loops around him, but Kim Dokja didn’t even have the strength to answer.

Somewhere far away, he heard the sound of someone bursting in. The already fragile sense of safety shattered, and his body shrank in on itself.

“Why is your presentation early?” A familiar voice cut through the fog. Kim Dokja blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the spinning world, before arms scooped him up without warning.

“Put me down!”

The nest might have been useless for comfort, but it was his. He’d built it himself. Instinct drove him to kick and thrash in midair, but the grip around him was iron. Yoo Joonghyuk carried him out, shoulder knocking open the door, and the shock of cold outdoor air made Kim Dokja struggle harder.

“Almost there,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Don’t worry.”

He was lowered into another room, a warm, plush nest that looked exactly like the videos, and he was swaddled in a thick blanket. The air was rich with warmth, a scent that seeped deep into his lungs, thawing the frozen edges of his nerves. Kim Dokja buried his face in the nearest scrap of fabric: a beige sweater he’d seen Yoo Joonghyuk wearing just days ago. Mia must have bought it for him; the guy would never choose something so soft, so warm in color.

Through the knit, Kim Dokja breathed deep and slow, and the weightless unease inside him began to settle. In its place surged something else: the searing hollow ache low in his belly. He clutched a bundle of clothes to his chest, wedging it between his legs for relief.

“Oppa.” Mia’s voice drifted from outside the door. “Biyoo followed you. She’s scratching at the door.”

“Let her in.”

The door opened, and something small barreled in with a thump, then squeaked as it launched onto the bed. Tiny paws landed on Kim Dokja’s stomach, making him jolt. Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed the culprit mid-climb, scolded her with a sharp glare, then deposited her on the pillow. Biyoo, though spun in confusion, apparently was satisfied with this position. She curled up against Kim Dokja’s shoulder.

“Is Ahjussi okay?” Mia’s voice called. “Does he like the nest? Good thing we prepared—”

“He’s fine,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, brushing a hand over Kim Dokja’s forehead. His fingers slid down to clasp Kim Dokja’s empty hand, stroking gently before snapping, voice hard: “Why was your phone off?”

Kim Dokja stared up at him, trying to process the words, but his brain wouldn’t work. All he knew was that the hand holding his was burning hot. He dragged that hand to his stomach, craving the Alpha’s heat to melt the tight knot of cold in his belly, and the sting from Biyoo’s misplaced paw.

He heard Yoo Joonghyuk mutter something under his breath, the words too faint to catch. Kim Dokja didn’t bother to respond. He only curled in tighter, eyes drifting shut in the comfort of warmth. He could pretend he didn’t notice Yoo Joonghyuk’s heavy breathing, the soft whisper of fabric, or the hands that refused to stay still. One slid beneath his hem, rubbing his stomach in slow, gentle circles before edging higher. A strange, sharp ache bloomed across his chest, pulling a low sound from his throat. The touch jerked back like it had hit live current, then settled, obedient at last, against his abdomen.

 

 

When Kim Dokja woke, he realized his presentation was complete.

He could smell pheromones in the air, which was a strange, vast scent, like what he’d always imagined drifting through the infinite void of a sci-fi universe. A trace of metal, a whisper of smoke. And threaded through it all, bizarrely, was something soft and sweet, like warm milk, like a galaxy ruled by tiny, furry cats.

Wait. That wasn’t right. Kim Dokja sneezed, shoving Biyoo’s furry face off his own. His nose was full of cat hair.

Once he set that aside, the source of the Alpha scent was obvious: lying behind him, arms locked tight around his waist, one hand shoved far too casually under his T-shirt. Yoo Joonghyuk’s face was buried against the curve of his neck, right beside his scent gland. Stirred by the sneeze, he nuzzled closer with a low, satisfied sound, warm breath spilling over sensitive skin. Kim Dokja shivered.

This pheromone smells way too happy. Nothing like the mystery and depth the universe is supposed to have. Kim Dokja thought. So, the kid really did like him.

Chapter 9

“Oppa’s been looking really happy lately.”

Kim Dokja lifted his head from his bowl, realized his mouth was smeared, and grabbed a napkin to wipe the milk foam from his lips.

“Well, our Joonghyuk’s got the chance to go on stage,” he said.

The upcoming event wasn’t huge. It was more of a sponsor showcase, a game famous for flashy plays and newcomers showing off. Still, Yoo Joonghyuk had secured a spot, and Kim Dokja was genuinely pleased.

The main star, however, didn’t look pleased at all. He shot Kim Dokja a glare, inspected his bagel like a food critic, and finally concluded, “The bacon’s overcooked. So’s the egg.”

“Do you have something to say about my and Mia’s hard work?” Kim Dokja asked.

Breakfast was oatmeal bowls and bagels: milk-soaked oats paired with bagels split and toasted in the air fryer, topped with cheese, a fried egg, and bacon. Kim Dokja and Mia had followed a tutorial with great enthusiasm, even winning a rare day-long kitchen pass after much negotiation.

The result was a little crooked, but after tasting, they thought it was fine. The head chef, apparently, disagreed. Under the death glares of Kim Dokja and Mia, though, all he could do was mumble about “improvements” and choke down the entire bagel, sulking all the way.

Once the three finished, Kim Dokja carried the dishes to the sink. He heard footsteps behind him, started to turn, then froze as arms wrapped around his waist. A body pressed against his back, radiating heat, and the scent of pheromones closed in around him. Kim Dokja stilled.

“You’re going to the hospital today?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“Mm.” Kim Dokja kept his voice light. “Lee Seolhwa’s been reminding me.”

“You should’ve gone right after you presented,” Yoo Joonghyuk grumbled.

Kim Dokja didn’t answer. The words were complaints, but the pheromones sang with contentment. He’d tried to say something before, to point out that this wasn’t right, to tell Yoo Joonghyuk to keep his distance. But the moment he did, that scent would sour, sharp and stinging in his lungs. Yoo Joonghyuk had been an Alpha for two years; he knew how to control his pheromones. So why did he never bother to hide it around Kim Dokja?

He remembered a news article from a few days ago, about volatile Alphas in esports. People complained that clubs shouldn’t sign these walking bombs—gods when they’re in a good mood, disasters when they’re not. There was even a well-known case: an Alpha, rejected by his crush, hit pre-sensitivity, then tanked the game within three minutes of the start, turning the match into a legendary disaster.

And now Yoo Joonghyuk was about to make his debut.

The lineup posters were ready; Kim Dokja had snatched his phone to take a look. The club wasn’t stupid, they knew how to market. While other players stood against roaring backdrops of dragons and lightning, Yoo Joonghyuk just stood there, plain and still. His face and build were enough to make him stand out.

Next week, the roster would go public. Kim Dokja could already picture it: this face starting a storm in the esports scene. Soon, Yoo Joonghyuk would have fans, would realize he could have a better life, a better partner.

But before that…

“What’s wrong?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked. Kim Dokja blinked back to the present. If he could sense Yoo Joonghyuk’s emotions, then of course Yoo Joonghyuk could feel his. It hadn’t even been a month since his presentation. He still couldn’t fully control his pheromones.

“Nothing. I’m just worried Lee Seolhwa’s going to scold me,” he said, reaching up to ruffle Yoo Joonghyuk’s soft hair.

 

 

“Even though I told you to come in once a month, I still wish you’d seen me right after your presentation,” Lee Seolhwa said. “Forget it. The results are back. You’re in great condition, even better than I expected. Looks like your Alpha’s been taking very good care of you.”

Kim Dokja couldn’t even muster the energy to argue.

“Now, let me check your hormone levels,” she continued. “Your next heat should hit in about a week.”

“That soon?” Kim Dokja asked.

“I told you before, because this is a secondary presentation, the intervals and duration of your heats will be short, and they won’t be too intense,” Lee Seolhwa explained. “Since your Omega organs aren’t fully developed yet, please inform that Alpha to avoid anything too rough. Kids tend to be… careless with strength—”

“We’re not in that kind of relationship.” Kim Dokja realized he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. The conversation was sprinting headlong into dangerous territory.

“Kim Dokja-ssi,” Lee Seolhwa said firmly, “I’m speaking from a medical perspective, not a moral one. Anyway, here’s a list. You’ll need some auxiliary tools. They’ll help you through the next few heats. Every pharmacy carries them. Just pick them up, and read the instructions with your Alpha before your cycle starts.”

Kim Dokja took the sheet, skimmed it, and even with the medical terminology as a smokescreen, the names were painfully obvious. He couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped him.

He walked home carrying a black bag. The first thing he did was shove it into the farthest corner of his drawer. Then he crouched on the floor for three full minutes, mentally scrubbing the entire ordeal from his brain.

Trying to scrub his brain clean wasn’t that easy. Even a few mornings later, Kim Dokja still hadn’t forgotten that cursed bag sitting just an arm’s reach away. He rubbed his temples and dragged himself to work.

 

 

Today was the official announcement from the club. The post went up at ten. The comments were chilly; Kim Dokja downloaded the picture and exited the app without a second thought.

By 3 PM, when he finally had a breather and checked again, the comments section had exploded. Comments were dragging it as a blatant edit. Others went further, spinning nonsense about some entertainment-industry nepotism baby dipping into esports for clout. Kim Dokja scowled and hammered out a reply: What a bunch of fools choking on stale crumbs who’ve never seen a proper meal.

Footsteps sounded at the door. Kim Dokja put his phone down as a man in all black, shifty-eyed and slick as oil, strolled inside.

“Hi,” the man said with a grin, sidling closer. “What do you sell here?”

“…It’s a secondhand shop. Everything and anything.” Kim Dokja kept his face neutral, eyes sharp.

“Bet you get a lot of traffic.” The man pulled out his phone. “Seen this guy around?”

Kim Dokja narrowed his eyes at the too-familiar face on the screen. It was the same face he’d been passionately defending less than a minute ago.

“A celebrity?” Kim Dokja looked up. “Never seen him. Why?”

“What about this one?”

The man swiped, revealing a younger photo, Yoo Joonghyuk at maybe thirteen or fourteen, arms crossed, glaring at the camera like it had personally offended him.

“…” Kim Dokja squinted. He almost wanted to ask the man to send him a copy. “Nope. Who is he? Kid gone missing?”

“And this one?”

Another swipe. This time it was Mia, barely five, her round cheeks framing an expression of pure loathing as she stared dead at the lens.

“They’re that young?” Kim Dokja frowned. “Hardly ever see kids like that in here. Don’t think I know them.”

“Is that so?” The man’s smile didn’t budge. “Funny, because a lot of people said they’ve been in and out of this place.”

Movement rustled behind Kim Dokja. Someone had stepped out—had to be Han Sooyoung. He ignored her and smiled politely at the man. “We get all kinds in here. Unless they’re big spenders, I don’t keep track.”

The man narrowed his eyes, like a lightbulb flicking on. His gaze swept the room, then landed on a secondhand luxury handbag. He grabbed it, checked the tag, twitched at the price, but still said, “I’ll take this.”

Kim Dokja took his money and offered a practiced smile. “Thank you for your purchase. Let me wrap that for you—”

“No need.” The man leaned in. “Just tell me where those two live.”

“I don’t know.”

“…Excuse me?” The man’s face twisted. He slammed a palm on the counter, flattening the bag in the process. “I paid you, and you still won’t talk?”

“You were the one who wanted to buy it.” Kim Dokja blinked innocently. “No refunds.”

“An Omega playing tough guy?”

The insult was cut off as he lunged, a wave of violent pheromones crashing with him. His hand shot for Kim Dokja’s collar. Kim Dokja blocked with his arm, twisted hard, and slammed the man’s head into the counter, pinning both arms with practiced ease. But the stench of that Alpha pheromone made his Omega instincts reel; nausea clawed at his gut, and for a split second his grip faltered—

Until another scent swept in like ink spilling over paper, smothering the first one into nothing.

Kim Dokja risked a glance back and saw Han Sooyoung, phone held high, circling them like a wildlife photographer.

“What are you doing?” Kim Dokja demanded, pressing the man harder into the counter as he bucked and kicked like a fish on a cutting board.

“Filming,” Han Sooyoung said cheerfully, pacing around them for full coverage.

“He attacked first,” Kim Dokja said. “You can’t use that to call the cops.”

“Who said anything about the cops?” Her grin widened. “I’m going to find that bastard and tell him for one hundred thousand won, he can buy a full HD video of you defending his honor.”

Satisfied, she slipped her phone away and strolled to the pinned man’s side. “So, what are you going to do with him?”

Kim Dokja hadn’t gotten that far, as everything had happened too fast. But Han Sooyoung kept going: “If they’ve tracked you down, they already have details. That idiot probably thought enough time had passed to show his face.”

“…What are you talking about?” Kim Dokja asked.

“…What are you asking?” Han Sooyoung shot back. “Don’t tell me you still don’t know what Yoo Joonghyuk’s deal is.”

Kim Dokja pretty much did. After this long, he didn’t need a confession, snippets were enough to stitch together the truth. Runaway siblings, too proud to ask for help, clinging to survival and bristling at outsiders. It was like something out of a novel: the heirs who fled their gilded cage. He didn’t want to dig deeper. Because if those tired tropes had their way, the next scene would be half a billion won thrown at him like hush money, with a neat little note: ‘Take this and disappear from my son’s life.’

He said what he thought, skipping the dramatic plot twist. Han Sooyoung nodded: “Pretty much what you think. Yeah, the usual. Family still wants them back, though. Only two kids, after all.”

“…And how did you know this?”

“My family and his got along,” Han Sooyoung said. “When I ran away, those two bolted right after. Come to think of it, he should be calling me his mentor. Why else do you think we know each other?”

“…?”

“But a year after I left, both my idiot parents croaked, so I went home and took the inheritance.” She said it with a shrug, casual as a breeze, or maybe just putting on a show to frame Kim Dokja’s stunned face. Then she kicked the man still plastered to the counter. “Tell your boss to quit sending trouble my way. Or those deals are off. ”

The guy slunk off, and Han Sooyoung hopped up onto the counter, looking thoroughly pleased with the whole ridiculous identity reveal. Kim Dokja stared at her, speechless for a long beat before managing, “You’re loaded. Why do you keep hanging out here?”

“…That’s what you’re hung up on?” Han Sooyoung muttered. “Nobody bothers me here.”

“Why not just buy the shop then?” Kim Dokja said, spotting a glimpse of another life where he’d never worry about bills again.

“Dream on.”

 

 

 

Although Kim Dokja acted like he didn’t care, once he got home, he lay on his bed completely baffled, so much so that he forgot something critical. By the time Yoo Joonghyuk kicked the door open, Kim Dokja was still scrolling through his phone, checking which companies were under Han Sooyoung’s family name, thinking, She had the nerve to say she couldn’t afford books?

“You’re fixing that door next month—” Kim Dokja started, annoyed as he pushed himself up, only to see Yoo Joonghyuk storm to the bed, grab him by the shoulders, and haul him up. Yoo Joonghyuk turned him around like a frying egg, checking him over, then leaned in and sniffed him. His face instantly darkened. A surge of pheromones wrapped around Kim Dokja the next second, wiping out every trace of Han Sooyoung and that other Alpha.

“Wait.” Kim Dokja blinked. “Don’t tell me you actually paid for Han Sooyoung’s video?”

Yoo Joonghyuk yanked his arm, shoved up his sleeve, and checked from his fingers all the way up to his arm. Then he grabbed the other one. His gaze froze on the bruise at Kim Dokja’s elbow from when he hit the shelf in the storeroom, and his breathing grew heavier.

“I’m going to kill that bastard—”

“Did you even watch the damn video?” Kim Dokja said helplessly. “He didn’t even lay a hand on me before I floored him, and got docked a pile of cash on top of it. This, ” he lifted his arm, “is from moving boxes.”

Yoo Joonghyuk choked for a second, then immediately put on his feral Alpha face again. “You’re an Omega. If Han Sooyoung hadn’t been there—”

“I didn’t suddenly lose all my self-defense skills because I turned into an Omega,” Kim Dokja said. “You’re overreacting.”

Yoo Joonghyuk let out a furious, frustrated growl and shoved Kim Dokja down against his chest, practically about to drag him into the bed ,only to get a hard kick.

“No,” Kim Dokja said flatly.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes flicked to the left, where Biyoo was sprawled out on the bed, sleeping like she owned the place. Then he looked back at Kim Dokja.

“No,” Kim Dokja repeated.

They locked eyes, neither backing down. Finally, Yoo Joonghyuk gritted his teeth, yanked open the nightstand drawer.

“What are you doing?”

“Treating your wound.” Yoo Joonghyuk rummaged furiously through the drawer. He pulled out a box of band-aids, then kept searching.

“What the hell are you looking for?” Kim Dokja tried to stop him. And how does he even know there are band-aids in there? “The antiseptic’s in the first aid kit. Stop going through my stuff—hey!”

Yoo Joonghyuk had pulled out the forbidden black bag. With a hard tug, the contents spilled everywhere across the drawer. Kim Dokja hadn’t even opened the packages yet, but the pictures and bold-print titles on the boxes were blatantly obscene. Kim Dokja sucked in a sharp breath. Yoo Joonghyuk froze for a second longer than he should have, just long enough for the shock to register.

Before Yoo Joonghyuk could say or do anything, Kim Dokja, furious and mortified, kicked the homewrecker straight out the door.

Notes:

Please note that there will be smut content(non-penetrative sex) in the next chapter (KDJ around 26s and YJH around 17s). All relevant tags have already been added.

To be honest, I hesitated a lot before translating this… I know the age difference and underage sex may be uncomfortable for some readers, especially when this is not just a PWP. Anyway, I still hope you can enjoy this.

Chapter 10

Kim Dokja thought, that day, he should never have stepped in to defend Yoo Joonghyuk. Maybe he should’ve just handed over the guy’s address and let his rich family drag him home. Then the esports world could have a fresh headline, something like: Heir Runs Away From Home to Chase Glory in Pro Gaming. He didn’t care about the details. At least that way, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t be circling him like a predator scenting blood after catching sight of that black bag of tools, wouldn’t have his nose buried in Kim Dokja’s neck for what felt like hours, wouldn’t be flooding the room with pheromones thick enough to drive every Alpha and Omega who tried to enter the store right back out the door.

“You’re killing my business like this,” Kim Dokja complained.

“You’re not going to the shop today.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms locked around him like iron. “Your heat’s almost here.”

“No,” Kim Dokja replied. “I’ve got people booked to pick up their orders.”

Yoo Joonghyuk grumbled in annoyance, burying his head in Kim Dokja’s neck and biting down, not too hard, but not lightly either. Kim Dokja hissed, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

“Then I—” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was muffled around a mouthful of skin.

“No taking leave. Do you really want to get kicked off?” Kim Dokja said. “If things go wrong, I will head home. Alright?”

“Call me,” Yoo Joonghyuk warned.

“Fine,” Kim Dokja agreed.

 

 

 

Kim Dokja stayed at the shop until 5 p.m., then tossed the keys to Han Sooyoung, who gave him a speechless look as he left for home. He could feel something off, his legs felt like water, and a dull ache twisted low in his stomach. His first heat wasn’t far off.

Back in his room, he saw the nest Yoo Joonghyuk had hastily thrown together for him before leaving. It was simple, just a few of his own clothes mixed with Yoo Joonghyuk’s, but the sight made his stomach churn even more. Kim Dokja changed into loose pajamas and lay down.

The faint chill gnawing at his lower belly refused to ease. Even pulling Biyoo in to warm his stomach didn’t help. He curled up tighter and reached for his phone.

[Eat dinner on your own later.] He texted Mia. Yoo Joonghyuk had to train at the club until late every night, which meant he obviously couldn’t manage their meals. The best he could do was stew in helpless rage while letting Mia and Kim Dokja fend for themselves by scrounging at some restaurants.[I’ll order fried chicken delivery for you. Don’t tell your brother.]

Mia replied with an emoji of a puppy bouncing around excitedly.

Kim Dokja smiled faintly, placed the order, and figured the delivery would get there about the same time Mia arrived home. What he didn’t expect was the sound of his front door unlocking right when that should’ve happened. Mia walking in, carrying a steaming bucket of fried chicken.

Kim Dokja swallowed hard. It felt strange. He was starving, having barely eaten at noon due to the discomfort, and his empty stomach was protesting. But the greasy smell of fried chicken made bile crawl up his throat.

“Ahjussi,” Mia said as she stepped inside, “Are you feeling sick? Oppa told me to let him know right away if you seemed off.”

Kim Dokja blinked. He should’ve expected this sibling would tag-team him. He straightened, solemn. “If you tell him, he’ll know we broke the fried chicken truce.”

Mia froze, visibly wrestling with her conscience before declaring, “I’ll tell him after I eat.”

“And then he’ll get chewed out by his boss again.”

“He won’t,” Mia said. “I overheard him on the phone a few days ago. That scary unnie told him to sort out his personal mess instead of hanging around the club after hours looking like a kicked puppy.”

“…” Kim Dokja had no comeback for that. He watched Mia demolish half the bucket at light speed before shoving a wing his way. Kim Dokja forced it down, stomach rebelling every second.

“I’m telling him,” Mia announced.

Kim Dokja stayed silent as she left, then collapsed back onto the bed. The heat symptoms had already started creeping in while she was there; he’d just barely held it together.

Slowly, he got up, locked the front door, and reached for the bag in the drawer.

 

 

 

The bag had quite a few things: a wired bullet vibrator, a slim dildo, and several bottles of different lubricants. According to the instructions, these were for Omegas with delayed presentation. Their reproductive cavities were still forming, unable to handle actual intercourse but needing to address the desires of a heat.l

The instructions also said these should be used with Alpha pheromone-mimicking sprays. Lee Seolhwa, who’d clearly misunderstood the situation, hadn’t included any in the prescription. But Kim Dokja had Yoo Joonghyuk’s clothes. The scent had faded a lot, but maybe it would do.

He clutched Yoo Joonghyuk’s shirt and curled himself up as tightly as he could.

All the symptoms were the same as last time—the gnawing anxiety, the chill sinking into his gut—but now there was something even more humiliating added to the mix. Since his first presentation had stalled, Kim Dokja had lost all need to deal with sexual urges. But now, his cock was reacting on its own, growing hard against the sheets and clothes. He reached down, rubbing haphazardly, and a sharp jolt of sensation made him whimper.

An awkward wetness seeped from behind. He took off his pants, hesitating as his hand explored. When his fingertips reached the slightly damp entrance, it immediately clenched dryly around them.

Kim Dokja grabbed the lubricant, squeezing some onto his hand. After a moment’s thought, he gritted his teeth, picked up the small bullet vibrator, roughly smeared it with lube, and pressed it against the entrance.

The device was small but still thicker than a finger, and the slight tearing sensation was just bearable. Kim Dokja slowly pushed it inside, then turned it on to the lowest setting.

A buzzing sound hummed within him, and a subtle pleasure climbed up, but it felt like scratching an itch through a wall, only making the deep ache in his abdomen worse. He reached inside again, helplessly twisting his body, tugging at the vibrator, searching frantically until it finally pressed against a soft spot.

A surge of intense pleasure made Kim Dokja’s toes curl instantly. He whimpered, gasping with his mouth open. But the sensation built up inside him without ever reaching a peak. Kim Dokja grabbed the remote, cranking up the vibration frequency, roughly rubbing his erection and desperately pinching his nipples. He even switched to the dildo, thrusting it inside until his wrist ached, yet he remained maddeningly on the edge.

Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, drenched in sweat, unable to tell if the sticky feeling below came from what. The vibrator hummed faintly inside him, doing nothing to ease the aching hunger in his abdomen.

Yoo Joonghyuk. The name echoed in his mind. Yoo Joonghyuk.

He knew he shouldn’t, but his mind was filled with that young man. He imagined Yoo Joonghyuk’s hands roaming over him, that warm embrace. Kicking off all his clothes, he gathered every piece of fabric with Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent, clutching them desperately to soak in the faint traces of the Alpha’s pheromones.

 

 

 

God knows how long he’d been trapped in this self-inflicted torment. Somewhere in the haze, he heard knocking, but he no longer had the strength to get up. The pounding grew more urgent, then fell silent again. Half-conscious, Kim Dokja listened and thought something was wrong, but his body was nothing but limp clay.

After a long while, footsteps entered the room.

“Kim Dokja.” Someone spoke his name, each word bitten off in anger.

Kim Dokja flinched. Savage pheromones crashed over him, but he couldn’t care anymore. He let go of the crumpled shirt in his hands, pushed himself up, and grabbed the other’s waist, burying his face in the soft knit of a sweater, inhaling deep, only to wrinkle his nose. Too many unfamiliar scents. With a frustrated growl, he yanked at the sweater in a frenzy, nearly tearing the seams apart.

Yoo Joonghyuk froze for half a second, then dragged the sweater off in one brutal motion, taking the T-shirt underneath with it. Kim Dokja wrapped around him again, and the heat of bare skin against his own made him sigh in sheer relief.

Yoo Joonghyuk cursed.

One hand clamped around the Omega’s neck. Kim Dokja tilted his head under the faint pressure, and Yoo Joonghyuk bent down to crush their mouths together, the other hand sliding down from his throat. Fingers kneaded over a flat chest, the strange ache blooming there, tearing a whimper from Kim Dokja’s throat, smothered immediately by the invading press of tongue and teeth.

They’d kissed before, always Yoo Joonghyuk pushing in with shameless persistence. But those had barely been brushes of lips. This time, the Alpha had him pinned to the bed, teeth sinking into his mouth, tongue tangling with no rhythm and no restraint.

Kim Dokja landed a punch on him just to carve out a breath. He stared up at him, dazed, and when his breathing finally steadied, he leaned forward again, only for Yoo Joonghyuk to bite down hard on his lower lip in wordless fury, and pinched his swollen nipple..

“Why lock the door?” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded.

The nipple, already tortured, screamed under the touch. Kim Dokja hissed, swinging a kick, but Yoo Joonghyuk, like he’d seen it coming, pinned his leg, yanking his right thigh aside and holding it down. Ignoring Kim Dokja’s squirming, the Alpha bit and sucked at his chest, pheromones surging like a riptide, dragging him under. Each breath felt like carving Yoo Joonghyuk’s mark inside his body.

In a daze, Kim Dokja realized he might’ve misunderstood Yoo Joonghyuk. The pheromones he usually emitted were already restrained.

“Wait,” Kim Dokja pleaded, “Yoo Joonghyuk! I… I can’t… breathe!”

But the guy acted like he’d gone deaf. He kissed down Kim Dokja’s chest, trailing to his lower belly. A calloused hand gripped his throbbing cock, jerking it roughly twice before hot lips closed around it, sucking hard.

Orgasm hit like a freight train. Kim Dokja arched, the pent-up pleasure smacking him like a club to the skull. He cried out, coming, vision going dark. He nearly passed out, but a sharp jolt yanked him back as Yoo Joonghyuk had cranked up the vibrator’s intensity.

“Why lock the door?”

“I just… no… ah…” Kim Dokja trembled, reaching to pull the vibrator out, but Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and tied his wrists. He hooked Kim Dokja’s knees, draping his legs over his shoulders. Kim Dokja saw his lower body, a slick, filthy mess, the vibrator’s cord trailing out like a tail.

He watched, powerless, as Yoo Joonghyuk dipped his head, something soft and warm probing the soaked entrance.

Kim Dokja nearly screamed, struggling to escape, but his feet were firmly held. The vibrator pressed relentlessly against his prostate, while Yoo Joonghyuk’s tongue darted in and out, lapping up the fluids. When Kim Dokja was pushed to his second climax, trembling uncontrollably, Yoo Joonghyuk finally stopped, pulling out the buzzing vibrator with a wet pop.

Kim Dokja whimpered, fluids and lube gushing out, a fleeting panic of losing control.

“Why?” Yoo Joonghyuk untied the shirt, asking again.

Kim Dokja didn’t answer. Slowly, he propped himself up. He couldn’t understand, but even after two intense climaxes, the hunger in his abdomen still wouldn’t fade. Kneeling on the bed, he followed his instincts, leaning toward Yoo Joonghyuk’s abdomen.

“You—”

Kim Dokja’s hands fumbled, unzipping the Alpha’s pants. The massive erection smacked his face. He gripped it, trying to stroke, but his sweaty hands felt clumsy. Thinking, he took it into his mouth, licking and sucking, hand working the base. He used every trick he knew to draw out the liquid he craved. When Yoo Joonghyuk groaned, the bitter-salt release flooded his mouth.

Kim Dokja swallowed, leaning in to lick the leftover semen, but after a small nip, Yoo Joonghyuk sucked in a sharp breath and shoved him back. The Alpha laid him down, face-to-face, collapsing into the heap of clothes under them.

They lay facing each other for a while. Maybe it was the overdose of pheromones, but Kim Dokja’s reason was finally crawling back, and with it, utter despair. This was what the doctor had called “not too intense”? Then what the hell counted as intense? He’d just spent the last few minutes like a man possessed.

“You…” Yoo Joonghyuk was the one to speak first. The edge in his voice had dulled, leaving only a frustrated growl. “You planned to lock yourself in here and ride out your heat alone?”

“How did you even get in?” Kim Dokja asked.

“The storeroom door wasn’t locked.”

It took Kim Dokja a beat before he muttered an awkward “oh.”

“Why?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s grip on his shoulders didn’t loosen.

“I was afraid Mia might come in,” Kim Dokja said.

“Liar.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s glare sharpened.

“…You’re still underage.” Kim Dokja sighed. “I can’t take advantage of you. It’s not right.”

“I’ll be an adult in half a year.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

Kim Dokja had no answer. Everything felt wrong, yet as they lay there listening to the faint chorus of insects and birds outside, even the distant wails of a kid upstairs refusing to do homework. All of it sounded so normal. He reached out and smoothed back the damp hair clinging to Yoo Joonghyuk’s forehead. His head was a tangle of thoughts with no loose end to pull, so he settled for honesty. “I don’t know.”

“Then there’s no problem.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice turned fierce again. “Don’t lock the door next time.”

Chapter 11

The arena was a mess of noise and movement.

Kim Dokja dragged Mia through the crowd and squeezed into the front row. These seats were supposedly reserved for big-spending VIPs or family members of the players. So what did that make him? Kim Dokja wondered.

They sat down. Kim Dokja hissed under his breath, teeth clenched. Mia turned to him. “What’s wrong?”

The timing of this match couldn’t have been worse. It landed right at the tail end of Yoo Joonghyuk’s rut. Now his own inner thighs burned like fire, and no position on this chair felt right. Kim Dokja forced a smile. “Nothing. Just a cramp.”

Thankfully, Mia was too nervous to pry. She twisted her hands, eyes darting anxiously around the arena. Seats were filling fast; the big screens looped ads as the host strode onstage. Ten restless minutes crawled by before the opening fanfare blasted through the speakers.

Yoo Joonghyuk walked out in his team jacket. His gaze swept the front rows. Kim Dokja quickly raised a hand and waved. He caught the faint curl of Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth in return.

Then the match began, fast, furious, and brutal. A few days ago, Kim Dokja had crammed a crash course in esports between customers at the shop, even made an account and played a couple of rounds, only to get flattened by bots. Still, armed with theory, he could at least keep up with what was happening on screen.

In one game, Yoo Joonghyuk scored MVP. The scoreboard flashed, the giant screen zoomed in on the Alpha: that sharp face breaking into a breathless grin, his brow finally unknotted. It hit like a headshot straight to the crowd. Mia cheered loud enough to shake the rafters. Kim Dokja clapped along and hauled the girl back down into her seat.

In the end, Yoo Joonghyuk’s team scraped out a win. Security began clearing the crowd. Kim Dokja eyed the jammed aisle and decided to wait until it thinned out before leaving, only for his phone to buzz with a message from Yoo Joonghyuk: 【Wait for me at the side door. Ten minutes.】

So he waited there with Mia. A few minutes later, someone in a cap and mask slipped out, scanning the area before striding straight toward them.

“Don’t you think this outfit makes you look more suspicious—”

Kim Dokja didn’t finish. A hand caught his arm and yanked him through the side door. Yoo Joonghyuk swept him into a hug, lifting him clean off the floor for a spin. Kim Dokja jolted, clutching at his shoulders until his feet touched down again. Only then did he manage to pull off the mask and check the Alpha’s face, flushed, eyes bright with excitement.

“Congratulations,” Kim Dokja said, sincerely.

“Oppa.” Mia crossed her arms, already sounding like a miniature Yoo Joonghyuk. “I’m still here.”

“Why’d you run out here?” Kim Dokja sighed. “Don’t tell me it was just to hear me praise you.”

“We’re having a team dinner,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “My teacher told me to ask if you want to come.”

Kim Dokja froze. He wasn’t sure what to focus on—that Yoo Joonghyuk actually relayed a message from his captain, or that this terrifying captain apparently knew who he was.

“What about Mia?” Kim Dokja asked, hoping to dodge the invitation and steer this guy back toward his sister.

“We can pick somewhere near your place.” A woman’s voice rang down the hall. “Drop the kid off first. I’m having a drink tonight, and a kid will just get in the way.”

Mia’s mouth puckered in visible protest.

 

 

“Do you live this far out, Master?”

Kim Dokja started the car, with Mia, Yoo Joonghyuk, and two other young kids from the team crammed inside. They looked even younger than Yoo Joonghyuk by a year or two, and for some reason, they were calling him “Master.” Kim Dokja had just set the GPS when the robotic voice announced it’d take forty minutes to get there. A girl with a high ponytail gave Yoo Joonghyuk a puzzled look. “Why don’t you stay in the team dorm?”

“He can’t bear to leave Ahjussi,” Mia said, clearly sulking at being left out.

The back seat blew up with whistles and jeers, loud enough to sound like a dozen people crammed back there.

“Mia,” Kim Dokja said, “your brother’s doing this for you.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” Mia turned her head to the window.

Kim Dokja could only throw Yoo Joonghyuk a sharp look.

Soon, the two team kids were deep in a lively post-game breakdown, talking about misplays and bragging about brilliant counter-moves. Kim Dokja didn’t understand half of it, focusing on surviving rush-hour traffic instead. Occasionally, he glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, who finally looked worn out after days of high tension, head resting against the window as he dozed.

They eventually reached their destination after a grueling crawl through traffic, dropped Mia off with much coaxing, and then walked to an izakaya nearby. The rest of the group was already packed into a private room, buzzing with laughter.

Kim Dokja paused at the doorway, hesitating. Stepping in felt like stepping into Yoo Joonghyuk’s world for real.

Until now, everything still had an escape route. Only a handful of people knew about their unhealthy relationship. If Yoo Joonghyuk ever regretted it, he could pull away, bury it,and  move on. But going public was different. That meant witnesses, eyes that would always remind him this happened, existed, was seen.

But the next second, Yoo Joonghyuk dragged him inside.

Familiar faces filled the room, ones Kim Dokja had seen on the club’s posters, and a few strangers. Kim Dokja nodded politely, taking the seat beside Yoo Joonghyuk.

Then came the introductions: some were club staff, others friends or family. When the spotlight turned on him, Kim Dokja smiled and stood, subtly pulling Yoo Joonghyuk behind him, ready to choke off any wild declarations. “Hello, I’m Yoo Joonghyuk’s—”

“Boyfriend. Boyfriend.” A tall woman grinned. “We all know. He guards you like a dragon hoarding treasure. If I hadn’t ordered him, he never would’ve brought you out here.”

Kim Dokja inhaled hard, swallowing the word brother that had been on his tongue.

“Come on, leave the underage kids at one table,” the woman said before he could object. “Adults sit over here and drink.”

“No,” Yoo Joonghyuk cut in.

Kim Dokja stood, ignoring the Alpha’s glare, and moved to the other table. It had been ages since he’d had a drink. He never liked alcohol, hated the stench of it. Or maybe it was the memories that came with it: the reek of booze mingled with vomit and blood. But in such a celebratory mood, he shouldn’t be thinking about those damn memories

So he had a drink. Then, under their urging, another—a Highball this time. At first, the conversation stayed on matches, reviews, future plans. But once the liquor warmed their veins, the adults’ table talk sprawled in all directions and inevitably landed on Kim Dokja.

“A secondhand shop?” Jung Heewon’s eyes sparkled. “Like the ones in dramas, where all the shady deals happen?”

“I’ve seen that on TV too…” Lee Hyunsung leaned his chin on his hand. “Sounds perfect for a fated meet-cute.”

“Or the kind from horror movies?” Even Jang Hayoung from the next table leaned over. “Ever see any spooky stuff? Like books flipping themselves open at midnight…”

This crew’s tastes were a mess. Kim Dokja cut off the spiraling nonsense. “It’s just a normal secondhand shop.”

Still, under their persistence, he shared a few stories, wetting his throat with more drinks until nothing was left on the table but empty skewers. His face felt like it was on fire. At some point, Yoo Joonghyuk appeared at his side, hand gripping his arm. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not,” Kim Dokja said.

“Make sure he sobers up,” Namgung Minyoung chimed in. “Don’t use this as an excuse to skip tomorrow’s review.”

“But our Joonghyuk got MVP,” Kim Dokja mumbled, dazed.

“Oh wow.” Namgung bared her teeth in a grin. “Don’t start with that, or this kid’s ego will blow a hole through the ceiling. He already pulled a ton of reckless stunts today, charging ahead like a lunatic. He’s still getting chewed out tomorrow.”

Kim Dokja frowned, ready to defend him, but someone hauled him upright by the arms. His feet flailed, legs like jelly, and he toppled into a waiting chest.

“Stop pouring him drinks,” Yoo Joonghyuk said darkly. “We’re leaving.”

“We still don’t know how you two met!” Jung Heewon protested.

“No,” Namgung Minyoung said with a dismissive wave. “I don’t wanna know. Go on, you’ve got a kid waiting at home.”

 

 

 

Kim Dokja clung to Yoo Joonghyuk, staggering down the street, bumping him hard against walls and almost into the curb a few times. Yoo Joonghyuk clicked his tongue, ignored Kim Dokja’s protests, and finally just swung him onto his back.

“Stop squirming,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Don’t blame me if you fall.”

Kim Dokja mumbled something but didn’t dare struggle again, looping his arms loosely around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck. Yoo Joonghyuk had barely taken two steps when Kim Dokja piped up with another complaint. “It hurts. My leg hurts.”

His inner thighs, hooked around Yoo Joonghyuk’s waist, chafed at the inner sides, burning hot. Yoo Joonghyuk snapped, “Unless you want me to bridal carry you home, deal with it. I’ll put ointment on you when we get back.”

That shut Kim Dokja up. He’d run this shop for almost three years. Even if he didn’t know everyone by name, most of the neighbors recognized his face. At least now, he could bury his face in Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder like an ostrich hiding its head. Maybe to distract him, Yoo Joonghyuk released a trace of pheromones.

“Joonghyuk-ah,” Kim Dokja murmured.

“What now?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice was sharp.

“You’re a celebrity now,” Kim Dokja slurred. His mind kept flashing back to that MVP screen with Yoo Joonghyuk’s face on it. How could someone look that good? “You should… keep up your image. You can’t just hang around me like this… and then tell your teammates about us…”

He caught the sharp shift in Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent, which had been soothing turned jagged and heavy with frustration. Kim Dokja instinctively let his own pheromones spill, trying to calm the agitated Alpha, but he couldn’t understand what he was so upset about.

“Shut up,” Yoo Joonghyuk growled.

“I’m not a good person…” Kim Dokja muttered. “If your fans or the club find out, you’ll be in trouble…”

“Drunks should stop talking,” Yoo Joonghyuk said flatly.

“You disrespectful brat… always dragging me around… my leg hurts, my throat hurts…” Kim Dokja grumbled under his breath.

“Shut up,” Yoo Joonghyuk said again, but this time, his tone was softer.

“You don’t understand…My mom… my mom killed my dad. You can look it up, it’s all online…” Kim Dokja pressed his face into Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulder. “No, wait… maybe it was me. I don’t even remember anymore.”

He felt Yoo Joonghyuk’s steps falter for a second. Those jagged pheromones dulled again, forced into something gentle, coaxing, as if encouraging him to keep talking. But Kim Dokja fell silent. What was he doing? Panic rippled through him. A responsible adult shouldn’t dump his pain onto a kid.

When he stayed quiet, Yoo Joonghyuk glanced back slightly, but Kim Dokja turned his head away, dodging his eyes.

“I don’t care about any of that. I only know you saved me,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “More than once.”

“I just…” Kim Dokja tried weakly to argue. “I just…”

Those moments were two, three years ago. Kim Dokja barely remembered what drove him each time to act. Maybe curiosity. Maybe some flimsy sense of adult duty. Or maybe, just maybe, because teasing this kid added a spark to his bleak life. Either way, he reached out on his own.

But thinking back, he’d always been detached, shoving every flicker of feeling into fictional stories to escape the reality he didn’t want to face. So why, this time, had he thrown himself in willingly?

Maybe because the first time he saw Yoo Joonghyuk, he thought: this guy looks just like the protagonists in books. The kind who cuts through every hardship, heads for a dazzling ending, and fights for the weak. Like what he’d fantasized about a thousand times as a kid. The kind who could drag someone else out of a suffocating home, survive on his own, and arm himself, then fight back when bullied.

But he hadn’t become that kind of protagonist. He’d barely scraped by, without even knowing how. And then, too late, he met the main character he’d been waiting for.

Too late, Kim Dokja thought. The bubble of childhood fantasies had long since burst. He knew now: the heroes in stories couldn’t survive reality. Running away as a minor meant no legal income. Fighting back against bullies only brought worse trouble. But Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know that yet. He was still young. He hadn’t hit enough walls. He still believed he could survive this cruel world on sheer will alone.

No protagonist was ever going to come and save the past version of him. Kim Dokja knew that. But at the very least… he hoped Yoo Joonghyuk could live a little better.

 

 

Kim Dokja had no clue what he’d been mumbling in his haze, but somehow, he was already home. Yoo Joonghyuk tossed him onto the bed like a sack of groceries. The guy leaned in, kissing his face, and casually stripped off his clothes. Kim Dokja squirmed, trying to bolt, but Yoo Joonghyuk pinched his thigh. “Just for medicine.”

Kim Dokja had no choice but to spread his legs, letting Yoo Joonghyuk smear some ointment on his inner thighs. When it was done, Kim Dokja glanced at him and, no surprise, saw the massive bulge in the Alpha’s pants. Maybe his rut wasn’t fully over. Kim Dokja pressed his knee against it, giving a nudge.

“Didn’t you say everything hurts?” Yoo Joonghyuk hissed.

“I can use my hand,” Kim Dokja offered.

But he was still half-drunk, fumbling the strength, and after two messy strokes, Yoo Joonghyuk grumbled and pinned him to the bed. The hard cock rubbed against his back and between his thighs, until its tip nudged his entrance. Kim Dokja yelped.

“No…!” He shoved at Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest. Lee Seolhwa had warned him countless times. His body wasn’t ready for the real sex. His reproductive cavity wasn’t fully developed, and he could get hurt easily. But Yoo Joonghyuk, stubborn as hell, pushed the tip inside. “Ah…!”

Kim Dokja shook hard, desperate to escape the searing pain of his entrance being forced open, but Yoo Joonghyuk’s single hand locked his waist in place. Thank God, the guy didn’t go deeper, just held still, panting like he was wrestling some primal urge. Kim Dokja glanced back and saw Yoo Joonghyuk gripping the exposed part of his cock, using the slick leaking from Kim Dokja’s body to jerk himself off.

The faint wet sounds made Kim Dokja flush red from head to toe. His legs went weak, whether from the booze or pheromones, he couldn’t tell, and instinctively, he arched his back, wanting to take the Alpha cock deeper. Before he could, Yoo Joonghyuk let out a muffled groan. Warm liquid shot inside him, and Kim Dokja’s hole clenched on reflex, making Yoo Joonghyuk suck in a sharp breath. Kim Dokja glanced back and saw the Alpha with his face buried against his back. He couldn’t see clearly, but the guy’s forehead was burning red. Kim Dokja, helplessly amused, ran a hand through his hair.

Still, he thought, the bastard was just a kid.

Chapter 12

“Then take a look at this.”

Kim Dokja reached under the counter and pulled out a long rectangular wooden box. The lid was embossed with a single gold-stamped letter K. Heavy in his hands. Before Lee Hyunseong could rush forward to help, Kim Dokja set it on the counter and flipped the lid open. Inside lay a row of delicately cut crystal glasses, their fine patterns shimmering like pearls under the evening light.

“Someone sold it to me six months ago. A brand-new set of Edo Kiriko,” Kim Dokja said. He had to raise his voice. The drilling from the new shop next door was deafening. “Apparently, the guy bragged about being a cocktail connoisseur when he was drunk. His friend took him seriously and gave him this set. It sat collecting dust for two years before he gave up and sold it.”

Lee Hyunseong gingerly picked up one glass, reverent as if handling a relic. He held it up under the store lights. Artificial beams refracted into a scatter of fine rainbow shards dancing across the walls. “Wow,” he breathed. “Dokja-ssi, how much for this?”

“The guy sold me the set for 500,000 won,” Kim Dokja said. He’d checked the original price, just one of these went for at least 500,000. A full set of five at least should cost three million. And four of the designs were already discontinued. But the seller had left in a daze after Kim Dokja’s smooth spiel about ‘too pricey, hard to sell.’ “So you give me 500,000, and it’s yours.”

“T-that doesn’t feel right…” Lee Hyunseong flushed red. “This looks expensive. I should at least—”

“You’re Yoo Joonghyuk’s teammate,” Kim Dokja said firmly, sliding the box toward him. “Take it. Or I’ll just give it to you for free.”

He had considered giving it away. But knowing Lee Hyunseong’s almost pathological sense of gratitude, Kim Dokja didn’t want trouble later. He added, “And wish Jung Heewon a happy birthday for me.”

Once Lee Hyunseong left, Kim Dokja went back inside. He had barely sat down when a sharp tsk cut through even the racket of the drill next door. He turned his chair toward the secondhand book section. “What now?”

“Every time I hear that fake customer-service tone of yours, I feel sick,” Han Sooyoung said.

“Then stop coming.” Kim Dokja shot back. “Shouldn’t you have graduated by now? Why are you still loitering around here? Flunked out?”

“Loitering” didn’t begin to cover it. Han Sooyoung had practically set up camp here, which was complete with a desk and ergonomic chair in the back room. Sometimes she even helped lost customers find their way through the shelves. A good chunk of regulars already thought she worked here.

“How rude,” Han Sooyoung sniffed. “I graduated. I even rented a studio nearby.”

“Then why aren’t you in your studio?” Kim Dokja asked. “You don’t mind the noise from the renovation next door?”

“I don’t know.” Han Sooyoung sounded pissed at herself too. “Maybe I’m crazy. Just love sitting here watching your melodrama with that psycho.”

Kim Dokja could only laugh and fume at the same time, too lazy to argue. An old customer pinged him wanting to sell two pearl necklaces. He was negotiating when the front door opened. The footsteps were so familiar he didn’t even look up. A moment later, the sound of heavy strides stormed into the book section.

“Why are you here again?” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice.

“You don’t have to keep proving you exist like this,” Han Sooyoung said acidly. “Try going to the counter and asking why your Omega’s ignoring you instead of picking fights with me.”

From the sounds of it, some light scuffle broke out inside. A minute later, Yoo Joonghyuk emerged.

“Hold on.” Kim Dokja grabbed his arm, squeezing it in reassurance while his other hand flew over the screen to finish the deal. Once both sides agreed, he finally tilted his head up to see Yoo Joonghyuk’s stormy expression. “PTA meeting done?”

“…Yeah.”

“How’d Mia do?”

“Fine.”

“She didn’t come back with you?”

“She went to a friend’s place.”

So that was why he looked ready to combust? Kim Dokja thought. He’d assumed Mia had gotten chewed out by a teacher. “Want me to pick her up later?” he offered.

“Lee Seolhwa called me,” Yoo Joonghyuk said darkly.

Kim Dokja froze. It took him a beat to process, that the one who got tattled on wasn’t Mia, but him. “I can explain—”

“You’re coming to the hospital with me. Now.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand clamped around his wrist.

“I’m not watching your shop!” Han Sooyoung yelled from the back.

 

 

 

“Kim Dokja-ssi.” Lee Seolhwa called him, voice firm. “Why haven’t you been coming for regular check-ups?”

“I’ve just been really busy lately…” He tried to explain, but after barely one sentence, under the searing twin gazes of the doctor and Yoo Joonghyuk, he raised the white flag. “Sorry.”

“Then I’ll give you the results.” Lee Seolhwa said evenly, “All indicators are normal. Hormone levels are stable. Both your glands and reproductive cavity are developing well. Most people avoid hospitals out of fear of bad news, and here you are, afraid of good news… Forget it. Anyway, congratulations, Kim Dokja-ssi.”

Kim Dokja tried to smile in response to the good news, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“However,” Lee Seolhwa shifted gears, “since this was a secondary presentation, your chances of conceiving are very low…”

“I don’t care about that.”

Kim Dokja shot a glance at Yoo Joonghyuk, feeling on the verge of collapse. Who asked him that? he thought.

“Can he be marked now?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“Yes.” Lee Seolhwa’s tone left no room for doubt.

“When’s his next heat?”

“About two weeks from now. But if things stay the way they were before, like constant exposure to a high concentration of pheromones, it might come earlier, and it’ll hit harder,” Lee Seolhwa replied. “After that, as long as his emotional state stays stable, his cycle will settle. Roughly once every six months.”

This was the first time in nearly a year Kim Dokja walked out of the hospital empty-handed, no bag of meds, no bizarre little toys. He slid into the driver’s seat, started the car, and gripped the wheel as the faint tremor of the engine vibrated through his fingers.

“Pick up Mia on the way?” Kim Dokja asked.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t answer. He just sent an address to his phone. The drive was silent, neither speaking until they pulled up to what was supposedly Mia’s friend’s house. They knocked, and a girl about Mia’s age opened the door. She seemed to size them up instantly and turned her head to holler, “Mia!”

“I told you that you could come later,” Mia complained, appearing in the doorway. But then her brows pinched together. “What? Did you two fight again?”

Kim Dokja glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk. It was kind of obvious, the guy wasn’t sticking close like usual, instead leaning stiffly against the opposite side of the doorframe. Kim Dokja tried to tug him closer, but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Ahjussi,” Mia glared at him. “Can you stop making Oppa mad every single day?”

Why is this my fault? Kim Dokja thought, baffled. Under the curious stares of kids inside, all he could do was hold up a shaky smile. “Let’s go home.”

 

 

 

The whole ride home, Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t say a word. To break the heavy silence, Kim Dokja had no choice but to ask Mia about her day at school, and they finally made it back to the house.

He exhaled in relief, eager to just go inside, but as he unlocked the door, Mia’s voice rang out behind him: “Oppa, settle things with Ahjussi before you come home. Don’t bring a storm inside.”

Before Kim Dokja could object, Yoo Joonghyuk turned on his heel with a look of grim resolve, like he’d been waiting for even the flimsiest excuse. He grabbed Kim Dokja by the arm, ignored his protests, yanked him into the apartment, and slammed the door shut.

By the way, the old iron door had given up the ghost after enduring countless slammed shut arguments. Kim Dokja had forced Yoo Joonghyuk to buy him a brand-new password lock with his first paycheck, then refused to share the code for three whole days under the noble excuse of “protecting the new door.” That, probably, was one of the “fights” Mia liked to talk about.

“….” Kim Dokja stared at Yoo Joonghyuk barging inside, helpless. There was no escaping the talk this time. He steadied the other’s shoulder, meeting that stormcloud of a face. “Joonghyuk.”

“I’m an adult now,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

“I know,” Kim Dokja said.

That eighteenth birthday party had been meticulously planned by him and Mia—and the gift was a sparkling new study with a top-tier PC, a height-adjustable desk, an ergonomic gaming chair, all under Kim Dokja’s roof. Everything had been perfect, until Han Sooyoung crashed the party and handed Yoo Joonghyuk a little box. The box had landed in a corner courtesy of Yoo Joonghyuk’s quick toss. Curious, Kim Dokja opened it later and found two packs of condom,s obviously from a convenience store nearby. He’d booted Han Sooyoung out on the spot.

“I can make money now,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “I can take care of you and Mia. You don’t need to sneak money to her anymore.”

“…I know,” Kim Dokja replied, then couldn’t help adding, “Just… don’t blow through it all.”

An esports salary was nothing to sneeze at. Yoo Joonghyuk had leapt straight up the social ladder. Maybe he’d gone too long without this kind of luxury. Maybe he just wanted to make up for lost time. He bought Mia new clothes, new sneakers, the latest phone. Then his focus turned to Kim Dokja: new phone, new headphones, except Kim Dokja refused every gift with ironclad stubbornness. So Yoo Joonghyuk funneled that energy into Biyoo instead: premium cat food, an automatic litter box, a luxury cat tower. The cat tower came with mountains of boxes and bubble wrap. In his cleanup spree, Yoo Joonghyuk tossed out an old, beat-up cardboard box without thinking.

When Biyoo woke up and found her favorite box gone, she wailed like her world had ended. For three straight days she mourned at the empty spot, ignoring the cat tower entirely. It took Kim Dokja three days of desperate effort to track down a box of the exact same size and sturdiness. During that time, Kim Dokja came this close to banning Yoo Joonghyuk from setting foot in the apartment again. Another “fight,” by Mia’s standards.

“I’ve been practicing my technique—”

“I know, I know…!” Kim Dokja cut him off before the bastard could spit out something shameless. His technique had improved terrifyingly fast, to the point Kim Dokja had begged for mercy more than once. But now was definitely not the time to stroll down memory lane.

“Then why don’t you want me to mark you?” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded. “You didn’t want to go to the hospital. Was it because you didn’t want me to know you could be marked?”

In just a few exchanges, Kim Dokja found himself driven back into a corner by Yoo Joonghyuk. Kim Dokja could practically see the savage, twisting black shadows writhing off his body. So, even if this guy was an adult now, in Kim Dokja’s eyes, he was still a child. Only a child would always want every little thing, and only a child would cling so obsessively to the things they couldn’t have.

“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk called him.

Kim Dokja still didn’t answer. He was lost in his own boundless thoughts, absentmindedly brushing his fingers across the other’s cheek.

“Hyung.” Yoo Joonghyuk called again.

Kim Dokja’s hand paused for a moment. It seemed some things had grown, like this kid’s shamelessness. But that was what it meant to be a protagonist. They always had the ability to take what they wanted, even if Kim Dokja believed he deserved someone more suitable, someone better. In the end, Kim Dokja just couldn’t say no to him.

“…Fine,” Kim Dokja said quietly. “Go ahead. Mark me.”

Technology was advanced these days. Even if Yoo Joonghyuk regretted this someday, found someone better, someone he truly wanted, they could erase the bond at a clinic. The only thing that couldn’t be erased would be the memory—

“—!!”

Teeth sank into the back of his neck, vicious and sudden, leaving no room to think and react.

“You—” Words broke apart on his tongue as a flood of pheromones crashed into his system. His knees gave out, and Yoo Joonghyuk caught him around the waist, one arm clamping the back of his head, pressing his face into the Alpha’s neck. The air was thick with Yoo Joonghyuk’s scent.

He wasn’t even in heat. His body wasn’t prepared for this at all. But the Alpha’s pheromones tore through every vein like wildfire, while his lungs drowned in Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath. And in that instant, Kim Dokja knew exactly what Yoo Joonghyuk intended to do.

“You… bastard… you—” Kim Dokja couldn’t finish. He clutched at Yoo Joonghyuk’s back in desperation, just to keep from collapsing. He looked up through a haze of spinning light, saw Yoo Joonghyuk bend to kiss his forehead, and then he was swept off his feet, carried straight toward the bedroom.

Chapter 13

Kim Dokja used to be terrified of the so-called heat.

He’d give in to instinct, desperately begging any Alpha to enter him, claim him, mark him. He could detach himself from pain and shame, but lust? Maybe that wasn’t something he could conquer with sheer willpower.

And he was half-right. He couldn’t fight this raging desire.

Yoo Joonghyuk kissed his forehead, but Kim Dokja squirmed, unsatisfied with the gentle touches. He clung to Yoo Joonghyuk’s shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist like an octopus, grinding his nipples against the T-shirt fabric and instinctively rubbing his hips against Yoo Joonghyuk’s hard cock.

“Yoo Joonghyuk… Joonghyuk…” The Alpha kept kissing his face softly, like he was planning to take it slow, and Kim Dokja was losing it. He ripped open his own shirt, one hand diving to his chest, brutally pinching his nipple, the other slipping into his pants, stroking his cock twice. The itching torment still crawled over his body. He yanked his pants down to his knees, fingers reaching for his rear, already soaked, slick dripping out. He was about to probe deeper when probe inside, but Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his wrist.

“Ha… no…” Kim Dokja struggled. “Joonghyuk, Joonghyuk, I feel empty…”

“Easy,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, sucking on his neck. When he neared the gland, Kim Dokja turned his head, craving the bite, the real mark, but Yoo Joonghyuk dodged it, nipping his collarbone instead. “Easy.”

“I’ve waited for you for three years.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s pheromones were mild, but his words were anything but. “Hyung, you can wait a bit.”

Kim Dokja ignored the threat, freeing his other hand to reach down, shoving a finger inside himself, thrusting twice. It was like scratching through a wall. He added another finger, arching his hips, desperate for more depth.

“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s voice turned sharp. “Keep that up, and you’re handling tonight alone.”

Kim Dokja froze, staring blankly at him, whimpering weakly, cursing this punk who got a taste and turned rogue. Seeing no reaction, he gave in first, leaning up to peck Yoo Joonghyuk’s face.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s expression softened. He reached out, rummaging in the drawer, pulling out a small toy. After a quick disinfection: “Take your hand out.”

Kim Dokja withdrew his slick fingers, and Yoo Joonghyuk slid the vibrator in, expertly pressing it against his prostate, switching it to the lowest setting. The sensation eased his restlessness slightly. Kim Dokja panted, watching Yoo Joonghyuk kiss every reachable inch of skin, biting and sucking, even licking his wet fingers, leaving teeth marks on each one.

By the time Kim Dokja felt like his body was a map of marks, the mad dog finally stopped, licking his lips. The Alpha slipped his thick fingers into his hole, cranking up the vibrator’s setting, curling his fingers to press it harder against the sensitive nerve.

“Ah… ah…!”

Kim Dokja arched, his cock twitching, spurting a cloudy burst, hitting his first small climax. But Yoo Joonghyuk’s fingers kept moving, one, two, three, thrusting steadily, pushing the vibrator deeper. The room filled with wet sounds, slick pouring from Kim Dokja’s body, soaking the sheets beneath his hips.

“Hyung,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, “my hand’s drenched.”

“…Shut up! Ngh…!”

Yoo Joonghyuk pulled out his fingers, showing Kim Dokja the glistening palm. Kim Dokja shook his head, burning with shame and the sudden emptiness. He reached out blindly, tugging at Yoo Joonghyuk’s pants, groping the defined bulge.

“Joonghyuk… Joonghyuk…” Kim Dokja pleaded. “Get inside…”

“Wait.”

Kim Dokja whimpered in despair, grabbing Yoo Joonghyuk’s collar with all his strength, flipping him onto the bed. He straddled him, grinding against his crotch, fumbling to yank down Yoo Joonghyuk’s pants and underwear. The hard cock sprang free. Too desperate to mock the kid’s fake calm, Kim Dokja gripped it, lifting his hips to lower himself, but before the tip could enter, Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his waist, holding him midair.

“Let me go…!” Kim Dokja twisted, clawing at Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms.

“The vibrator’s still inside,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Take it out first.”

“Don’t need to… don’t, just let me…” Kim Dokja begged.

“You’ll get hurt.” God knows where Yoo Joonghyuk found the patience. “Take it out.”

Shaking, Kim Dokja reached down, inching up to pull the cord, slowly dragging the buzzing toy out. It caught at his entrance, but Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his hand, stopping him.

“What… what do you want…!” Kim Dokja was going insane, the vibrator stuck at his entrance, itching him to death.

“No hands.” Yoo Joonghyuk stroked his trembling thighs. “I want to watch.”

Kim Dokja froze. After a long pause, he lifted his loose shirt, exposing the lewd scene below to the Alpha. He clenched his muscles, trying to push the vibrator out, but Yoo Joonghyuk slapped his ass lightly. Flinching, Kim Dokja felt the toy slip back inside.

“Ah…”

Kim Dokja struggled through the torment. When the vibrator finally fell onto the bed, his face was streaked with tears. He buried his head in Yoo Joonghyuk’s chest, sobbing weakly. At last, Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his cock against the quivering entrance.

“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk kissed his lips. “You’re always focused on what I want. You never say what you want.”

“Tell me,” Yoo Joonghyuk asked. “What do you want?”

Kim Dokja looked at him, this kid he’d once picked up, childish, stubborn, full of impulses, now a wolf grown.

Kim Dokja had never thought he needed anything. Being a giver had always felt far easier than being a recipient. He clung stubbornly to that fragile shred of dignity, never once lowering himself to beg. But maybe… amid the chaos of heat, the unease, the torment of being strung up on the edge again and again, Kim Dokja thought hazily. There was something he wanted after all. He wanted… he wanted a home, a family

But his desire-fogged mind could no longer function properly. All he could do was look down at Yoo Joonghyuk, his throat dry and raw as he forced out the words: “Come inside… mark me, Knot me, I want you…”

Yoo Joonghyuk released his grip on Kim Dokja’s waist. Caught off guard, Kim Dokja’s legs gave out, and he sank, taking the cock fully inside in one go.

 

 

 

“Slow… ah! Ha, ha… slow down!”

Kim Dokja rose and fell on Yoo Joonghyuk—or rather, he just slumped limply against him. The massive cock slid in and out, stirring deep, slamming against his prostate over and over. It felt like he was constantly climaxing, his cock spurting clear liquid in fits and starts, splattering their stomachs and mixing with the mess below.

Maybe taking pity on his pathetic state, Yoo Joonghyuk gripped his waist, flipped them over, and hoisted one of Kim Dokja’s legs, pressing his body sideways, thrusting with brute force. Kim Dokja clutched the arms braced beside him, begging for a moment’s rest, but Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him completely. Each thrust went deeper than the last, flesh slapping loudly, the old bed creaking endlessly. Kim Dokja was shoved toward the headboard, his head knocking against it, leaving him dizzy, neck aching. He tried to prop himself up—

The slight shift made the cock hit deeper, breaching the narrow entrance of his cervix. The newly formed organ was insanely sensitive, pain and wild pleasure sending him crashing into another climax. Kim Dokja opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, only clawing at Yoo Joonghyuk’s back, tears streaming down his face. He shook his head frantically, finally choking out a weak, “Out… no!”

He heard Yoo Joonghyuk’s muffled groan, and the cock withdrew. Kim Dokja barely exhaled before the relentless young Alpha switched angles, diving back into the mindless rut. But that last sensation was too much, whenever Yoo Joonghyuk grazed the cervix, Kim Dokja trembled violently, his moans pitching higher. Soon, he realized Yoo Joonghyuk was doing it on purpose, the tip circling that hidden entrance.

“Kim Dokja.” Yoo Joonghyuk thrust deep, then shallow, calling his name. “Dokja.”

“No… no…I can’t…” Kim Dokja shook his head weakly, feeling like he’d cried himself dry.

“Hyung.” Yoo Joonghyuk was relentless, the head of his cock lodged at the cavity’s entrance. Kim Dokja felt the forming knot stretching his tormented hole wider. “Hyung.”

The air smelled of blood. Kim Dokja didn’t know if he’d bitten his own lip or clawed Yoo Joonghyuk’s back raw. Yoo Joonghyuk kissed him, calling his name tenderly, and Kim Dokja knew he’d never refuse this bastard.

So he gave a faint nod.

The massive cock surged into the life-bearing cavity without mercy, thrusting violently. When semen flooded the sensitive space and the knot locked tight inside, Kim Dokja had no strength left, mouth half-open, trembling with sobs. They say an Alpha’s first knot produces thick, heavy semen. The strange, aching fullness in his belly confirmed it was no rumor.

Kim Dokja instinctively cradled his abdomen. Before he blacked out, he felt Yoo Joonghyuk lean down, biting his nape’s scent gland again.

 

 

 

When Kim Dokja opened his eyes, he found himself lying in Yoo Joonghyuk’s room. He vaguely remembered that his own bed had been rendered completely unfit for human use, so Yoo Joonghyuk had wrapped him in a blanket and carried him across the hall.

But Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t by his side. From the living room came the faint clatter of pots and dishes. Kim Dokja tried to move, only to grit his teeth in silent agony. The pain shot through his entire body. Even the skin under the blanket, bitten and bruised all over, hurt with the slightest brush. He fumbled around, found his phone, and called Yoo Joonghyuk.

No answer. But less than thirty seconds later, someone burst into the room. Yoo Joonghyuk stood there, carrying a glass of milk and a plate of perfectly made eggs Benedict. Looking absurdly earnest, he set the tray on the nightstand.

“You okay?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“No.” Kim Dokja rasped, his voice hoarse with fury. “You bastard, I’m twenty-seven! I’m not eighteen!”

Kim Dokja glared at him. The guy’s face did wear a thin veneer of guilt, painstakingly applied, but peel back that flimsy layer and there it was unrestrained smugness, the glow of pure satisfaction, and metaphorically speaking, a tail wagging like a spinning top.

Kim Dokja sipped his juice and then noticed what Yoo Joonghyuk was wearing. His closet was full of black T-shirts he’d bought himself, and the other colors and styles that Mia and Kim Dokja had force-fed into his wardrobe. But where the hell had he dug up that white T-shirt that looked so… breezy? Narrowing his eyes, Kim Dokja issued the command: “Turn around.”

“…No.”

“Turn. Around,” Kim Dokja said flatly.

With a hint of stiffness, Yoo Joonghyuk turned. The fabric was thin, far too thin, and it clearly revealed the scratches trailing across his back.

“If you wear that to the club,” Kim Dokja said, “I’ll go to the hospital and have the mark erased right now.”

In the end, Kim Dokja didn’t go to the hospital. He stayed home and slept the day away, dead to the world.

 

 

 

Epilogue

“You quit your job?” Kim Dokja asked, realization dawning. “No wonder I haven’t seen you for a month.”

“Yeah.” The woman with long brown hair smiled pleasantly. “Two of my students decided to take up parkour over the summer, one shattered his leg, the other broke his arm. The parents blamed that on me, and I’d had enough. So I resigned.”

“….” Kim Dokja let out two dry laughs, not daring to comment further. “So… what have you been up to lately?”

“I just went on a trip to Europe,” she said. “Spain, France, Finland, and Switzerland on my own. Oh, that reminds me, I almost forgot. I brought you a souvenir.”

“For me? Thanks.” Kim Dokja accepted the small transparent box she handed over. Inside was a Notre-Dame-style fridge magnet. “What a coincidence, we’re heading to France next month too.”

“For vacation?” the woman asked. “What about the store?”

“Planning to close it for a while.” Kim Dokja sighed, pointing to the poster hanging on the door. “Put up a hiring notice a few days ago, but… haven’t found anyone reliable yet...What’s with that look?”

The woman was eyeing the flyer with interest. Kim Dokja caught her meaning. “You’re interested?”

He learned her name was Yoo Sangah, and after a brief self-introduction of his own, the two quickly settled on pay. Yoo Sangah said she had no plans for the evening and stayed right then and there under the pretense of a trial shift. So Kim Dokja led her into the secondhand book section, now empty of Han Sooyoung’s desk and chair. He said, “There’s… a little secret mechanism here. You might need to know about it so you don’t freak out later.”

“Secret mechanism?” Yoo Sangah repeated, puzzled.

Kim Dokja stretched out his hand, counting from the bottom, fifth row up, eighth book from the left. He pressed it inward, and with a heavy clunk, the bookcase slowly rotated ninety degrees, revealing the passage behind.

Even the ever-graceful Yoo Sangah was struck dumb.

“Han Sooyoung!” Kim Dokja yelled toward the other side.

Honestly, thinking back on it now, Kim Dokja still felt irritated. He, of all people—the man who knew every cliché in every novel, should’ve noticed something was off and connected the dots back then. But at the time, his head was full of nothing but Yoo Joonghyuk, Yoo Joonghyuk, and Yoo Joonghyuk. Han Sooyoung had pulled a move straight out of an “inheritance plotline”: she bought the shop next door, turned it into her so-called studio, and installed a door straight out of a gimmicky mystery novel.

“What?” Han Sooyoung’s voice came back with a shout.

“I hired someone to help out at the shop,” Kim Dokja said.

“Who?” Han Sooyoung’s footsteps drew closer. “You didn’t pick up some random kid again, did you? I’m telling Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“Can you not talk nonsense?” Kim Dokja sighed.

“Yoo Joonghyuk?” Yoo Sangah tilted her head. “That name sounds familiar.”

Speak of the devil. Footsteps came from behind. Kim Dokja turned to see Yoo Joonghyuk standing there, holding the phone Kim Dokja had left on the counter, and asked in a tone that was none too pleased: “What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering your calls? Dinner’s ready.”

“I found someone to help with the shop next month,” Kim Dokja said. “You and Mia go ahead and eat—I—huh? What’s wrong?”

Yoo Sangah and Yoo Joonghyuk were staring at each other.

“You two know each other?” Kim Dokja asked.

“He was one of my students,” Yoo Sangah said.

“…My English teacher,” Yoo Joonghyuk added.

“I just heard recently,” Yoo Sangah went on, looking delighted, “you’re a famous esports player now, right? You’re even heading to France for a tournament soon? Wait… so what Dokja-ssi said earlier about going to France…that’s because of this?”

Her curious gaze darted back and forth between them, and it looked like a thousand scenarios spinning in her mind.

“Yeah,” Kim Dokja said. “I’m going with him.”

Yoo Sangah still looked bewildered. And Kim Dokja couldn’t blame her. A secondhand bookstore owner, tagging along with a top-tier pro gamer to France. Sure, he had a few backup explanations lined up: he could claim he was a retired legend stepping in as a strategist. Or say he was a chef traveling to make sure the players had Korean food. Or even admit he was just some freeloading relative on a sponsored vacation.

But he and Yoo Joonghyuk had been together for three years now. And now, though there were still rare moments when Kim Dokja wondered if, once Yoo Joonghyuk grew a little older, he might make a wiser choice, he could finally face the truth head-on.

“He’s my Alpha,” Kim Dokja said.

Notes:

Thank you so much for all the love, comments, and kudos! I’ve always loved the dynamic in ORV where Yoo Joonghyuk is younger than Kim Dokja, but sadly there aren’t many conflicts that really play on that so I decided to write this... Honestly, it started in my head as nothing but a bunch of horny scenes, but somehow turned into a full story...

When I was writing the Chinese version, I updated daily and finished everything in about two weeks… Since there was no outline and I was a little exhausted by the end, the ending might feel a bit rushed. Still, hope you can enjoy it!

Chapter 14: YJH POV - extra

Notes:

While cleaning up my Notion, I dug up a bunch of YJH-POV snippets I’d completely forgotten about. Back then I wanted to keep everything in Kim Dokja’s POV, so I cut them from the draft.
Treat this as a tiny extra, haha
Note: a little bit of angry sex, or just upset sex?

When Yoo Joonghyuk was twelve, he was kidnapped once.

He was taken together with Mia, who was only four. The masked kidnappers locked them in a narrow room, pitch-black and suffocating.

He lost all sense of time in the dark, drifting until he half-heard a door being smashed open. Bursting in was one of his father’s men, a middle-aged man with blood running down his face. He scooped up the parched Mia, grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk by the arm, and with no thought for his own injuries, shoved them both into a car that sped straight toward the hospital.

On the first day, everyone who came to visit spoke in vivid detail—how the man had scoured the city for the missing siblings, fought the kidnappers, and then waited anxiously at the hospital doors, completely forgetting his own wounds.

But by the second day, the stories went silent. No one mentioned him again. Even the kidnapping itself seemed to have been erased from everyone’s memory.

When he was discharged, another of his father’s men came to fetch him. They sat wordlessly in the car, the silence so heavy it almost squeezed the breath from his chest. Finally the man handed him a crumpled water bottle. Inside was no water, only a faint red stain clinging to the plastic, a whiff of rust in the air. That was how his father always was, he never said anything plainly, dressing everything up as some “test,” turning life into a tiresome riddle.

“The blood on his head was fake,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “He staged the kidnapping himself.”

“Smart kid.” The man smiled. “Looks like we don’t need to worry about a trick like this fooling you into trust.”

Yoo Joonghyuk only gave a short, cold snort.

 

 

He had long since gotten used to it.

He hated all the adults around him. They were hypocrites, calculating everything on a scale dressed up as “equivalent exchange.” They only did what promised a return, and if there wasn’t one, they would force a stage into existence just to make it worthwhile.

Most people seemed to think that the fake kidnapping had left him heart-sore and shattered, so no one spoke of it again. No one, except for one girl who appeared out of nowhere, looking only three or four years older than him.

“You’re the kid who got kidnapped by your own people for a little play-acting, right?” The girl in a purple dress leaned over to him. “Yoo Joonghyuk, was it?”

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned. He didn’t know her.

“I heard you were locked up for two days?” she asked, without the slightest hesitation. “Are you afraid of the dark now? Just curious. I don’t know anyone else who’s gone through that.”

“Get lost.” Yoo Joonghyuk was just as blunt.

The girl only raised her brows. Strangely, she didn’t argue. She even got up and really left, but not before lifting her orange-juice glass in a mock toast. “To our trash families.”

 

 

The second time he ran into her was at a party in someone else’s house. Yoo Joonghyuk had been looking for a quiet spot, only to see her sneaking out of a room. One hand held a thin wire, the other lifting the hem of her long gown. Strapped to her thigh was a pouch that looked suspiciously like a soldier’s ammo bag, and she tucked a velvet jewelry box into it.

“Hi,” she said easily, letting her skirt fall back into place. “Don’t you think these gowns are designed stupid? Not even a single pocket.”

“This was their dressing room, wasn’t it?” Yoo Joonghyuk demanded.

“Relax,” the girl said. “I only took a little something. Of course they won’t accuse their esteemed guests over a few missing trinkets.”

“You…” Yoo Joonghyuk frowned. The jewelry she wore was hardly cheap. “What do you even need with those little things?”

“Because I’m running away from home. You need money for everything. Adults can’t be trusted. Only money is.” She added, “You should start preparing too.”

 

 

Every time Yoo Joonghyuk met Han Sooyoung, he picked up some odd piece of knowledge from her: how to get a bank card that parents couldn’t freeze, how to find a place to live, how to get yourself enrolled at a school. Clearly, she was figuring things out as she went and writing the manual at the same time. Less than half a year after they met, he heard the rumor: the youngest Han daughter had run away from home.

A year later, Yoo Joonghyuk ran away too, with Mia.

They wandered for a while before finally managing to rent a new place from an old woman with mild dementia. The building was shabby, but it was a proper apartment, no rats, no bedbugs, and no wooden partitions pretending to be walls.

Just as Yoo Joonghyuk breathed a sigh of relief, a strange man moved in next door.

The man carried himself with an intrusive kind of friendliness, smiling like a fox. He reminded Yoo Joonghyuk of his father’s scheming subordinates, and he wondered if this one had been sent to watch him. He thought about moving again, but he and Mia had only just settled down. He didn’t want to drag her back into drifting from place to place.

Still, the man was skinny, hardly even above average for a Beta. If he did turn out to be trouble, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, violence would probably take care of it.

 

 

“And then, and then, that Ahjussi just—bam! The guy went flying! And then another one, the one who looked like a frog, he came from the back like this, like this, and tried to—um, what’s the word—anyway, he tried to attack Ahjussi! And then Ahjussi went like this, and this—”

For Mia, describing a fight was a real challenge. She didn’t have the words for it, so she threw in arm swings, jumps, and wild gestures, doing her best to recreate the chaos of that night.

Back then, Yoo Joonghyuk had been blinded by rage, tangled up with his own opponent. By the time his name was called and he snapped back to himself, all he saw were two losers rolling on the ground, shrieking in pain. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t tell if Mia had exaggerated this man’s skills, or if he himself had simply underestimated the strange Beta.

He raised a hand. Every wound on his body had been wrapped up, though the process had been anything but gentle. That odd man had berated him the whole time, roughly disinfecting and bandaging, making him grit his teeth and suck in sharp breaths. In the end, the shameless idiot even demanded that Yoo Joonghyuk call him hyung.

The teasing was plain in his eyes. Yoo Joonghyuk could only turn his head away in fury.

“How about a ‘thank you,’ then?” the man pressed.

Yoo Joonghyuk clamped his jaw shut. It had been a long time since he’d said those words to anyone. People who reached out a hand to him and Mia had never done it for the sake of a fleeting phrase. What they wanted was always far heavier than the scraps of help they offered. They all thought children were easy marks, that with nothing more than a small box of candy, they could buy a child’s blazing, wholehearted trust.

But Kim Dokja really was a weirdo. He looked like he only wanted a simple “thank you.”

When he finally got it, his whole face lit up, pure delight spilling out. Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t understand what the idiot was so happy about. All he knew was that everything about him—eyes curving into crescent moons, damp bangs clinging to his forehead, even the droplets trembling on his lashes—was unbearably irritating. He grabbed Mia and slammed the door on his way out.

 

 

 

2.  

It wasn’t until two years after meeting Kim Dokja that Yoo Joonghyuk saw Han Sooyoung again.

Strangely enough, the damned woman would drop by Kim Dokja’s store every now and then, hole herself up in a corner for the whole day. Yoo Joonghyuk also went there once or twice a week. Yet somehow, by sheer coincidence, they had never crossed paths.

Until that day, Kim Dokja had collapsed from a fever brought on by his secondary present, right there in the shop. The woman came charging in, shouting her lungs out, pounding on the door with both hands. “Come out already! Your Beta’s passed out in there!”

Yoo Joonghyuk had his headphones on, watching the replay video Namgung Minyoung had sent him. He didn’t catch her words at first. His first thought was that there was some lunatic outside. Remembering that Kim Dokja was alone in the shop, he grabbed a hammer from the toolbox and edged toward the door, motioning for Mia to stay back.

“Is anyone in there?” the woman kept yelling, her voice oddly familiar. “He fainted! Your Beta fainted!”

He realized something was off. Yoo Joonghyuk pulled open the door, locking eyes with a short-haired woman outside.

“Your Beta faint—what the fuck?” Han Sooyoung started, but the moment she saw his face she choked, stumbling back two steps, her feet tangling like she was stamping out some arcane diagram. “You—what the fuck! You?!”

“Han Sooyoung?” Yoo Joonghyuk was equally stunned.

“So it was you, kid, who presented back then?” Han Sooyoung jabbed a finger at him, blurting it out, then immediately launched into retroactive analysis. “No wonder that little one looked familiar. That was Yoo Mia, wasn’t she?”

“What did you just say about Kim Dokja?”

“Oh right! That guy fainted in the shop! You—” Han Sooyoung didn’t finish. Yoo Joonghyuk shoved past her so fast she banged against the doorframe, cursing as she clutched her side. “Hey!”

 

 

【What happened to him?】 Han Sooyoung texted.

【None of your business.】 Yoo Joonghyuk shot back, temper flaring.

In front of him, Kim Dokja had taken medicine and was on an IV drip. The fever had finally broken, but he’d drifted back into restless sleep. He curled in on himself by instinct, clutching the blanket, sweat beading on his nose, eyelids twitching like he was caught in a nightmare.

Yoo Joonghyuk slowly reached out, resting his hand on the wrist with the IV line. The infusion had left his arm icy cold. He kept it there, his chest a mess of tangled thoughts. Kim Dokja had gone through his secondary present because of Yoo Joonghyuk’s pheromones.

By the time he came back to himself, his phone was flooded with Han Sooyoung’s messages.

【I’m a regular at that shop, I get to ask, don’t I?】

【By the way】

【That wild mutt who went crazy while presenting. Was that you?】

【And the Alpha stink on him every single day…that’s from you?】

【Wait】

【You’re the one cooking for him every day too?】

【Holy shit】

【What a touching story.】

There was a long silence before she sent another line:

【Except it’s basically sexual harassment.】

【You got a death wish?】 Yoo Joonghyuk replied.

 

 

“Honestly, I thought your relationship was…” Lee Seolhwa, like everyone else, had a knack for poking at the sorest spots. After calling Yoo Joonghyuk into the exam room alone, she hesitated before adding, “But judging by Kim Dokja-ssi and the way you act, it looks more like some kind of one-sided…”

The look Yoo Joonghyuk gave her, full of killing intent, made Lee Seolhwa smile politely and shut her mouth.

“But either way,” she said, “you’re the only one who can look after Kim Dokja-ssi. Which means there are things I need to tell you.”

“He mustn’t take any suppressants ever again.” Lee Seolhwa’s tone turned serious. “They’re prescription drugs, but the market isn’t tightly controlled. If he wants them, he’ll find a way. I need you to keep an eye on him. Don’t let him mess around.”

“Some things can’t be allowed to happen a second time,” she said. “If his secondary present is interrupted again, his other organs may also be affected by the hormonal imbalance. In the worst case, his life could be at risk.”

Yoo Joonghyuk opened his mouth, but Lee Seolhwa’s hints were already skirting the edge of patient privacy. He asked, “Anything else I should know?”

“Cases of presenting at twenty-six are extremely rare. We have little to reference…” She paused, uncertain. “But for Omegas, the hormones released during present can heavily affect rationality. It’s possible that, during it, Kim Dokja-ssi’s mental state could regress to that of a teenager.”

“Kim Dokja-ssi seems calm on the surface,” she went on. “But if he loses control of his emotions, he may become more sensitive, even more easily depressed.”

“What should I do?” Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

“Make sure his nest gives him enough sense of safety,” Lee Seolhwa said. “And stay with him.”

 

 

By the end of the week, Yoo Joonghyuk had piled together a basket of his own clothes and blankets. Mia, too, filled a small basket with her scarves and plush toys. They waited for Kim Dokja to ask for nest materials. But ever since that clumsy confession, Kim Dokja had been avoiding Yoo Joonghyuk, as if by staying out of sight he could erase both the present and the feelings between them.

Two days before his present, Yoo Joonghyuk slipped into Kim Dokja’s room while he was out. The bed was still empty, not a trace of a nest.

Yoo Joonghyuk lost his patience. He called Mia. “We’re making that idiot a nest.”

“Okay!” Mia bounced in, dragging along her whole basket of things. Only after dumping everything in Yoo Joonghyuk’s room did she blink. “Wait. it’s on your bed?”

Yoo Joonghyuk hesitated half a second. “…Yes.”

“Then where will you sleep these two days?”

“The couch,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

And he really had said it, seriously and with the utmost morality.

But now, Kim Dokja was curled up on his bed, ears burning red. His gaze was hazy, eyes damp, lips parted as he panted shallowly. He had buried his face into Yoo Joonghyuk’s sweater; soon after, he clutched at Yoo Joonghyuk’s blanket as well, refusing to let go. He was drenched in Yoo Joonghyuk’s pheromones. And then, shamelessly, he grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand and pressed it against the soft skin of his belly.

It took all of Yoo Joonghyuk’s self-control to wrestle his own reactions back down with time and reason. Only then did he climb onto the bed, lying down beside him. He reached out carefully, pulling Kim Dokja into his arms, tucking his face against the crook of the Omega’s neck.

The newborn glands were still unstable, their scent muddled. It felt like printer ink mixed with the buttery sweetness of dough in an oven. But the emotions within it were crystal clear. The Omega was deeply satisfied—with the nest, and with the Alpha lying at his side.

 

 

 

3.  

Before Kim Dokja had even presented, Yoo Joonghyuk had already played out hundreds of rounds of mental chess with himself. In the end, he still turned to Han Sooyoung for help.

Kim Dokja clearly hadn’t given up on using suppressants to cut off his present. Even if Yoo Joonghyuk skipped all his training, there was no way he could watch him twenty-four hours a day. And esports was an opportunity he had clawed out for himself. He needed the money. He needed to prove to Kim Dokja that he wasn’t a child anymore. To promise him any kind of future, he had to hold on to this job.

【So what, you want to borrow some of my bodyguards to keep an eye on your precious Omega?】 Han Sooyoung might’ve been insufferable, but she was sharp. Before Yoo Joonghyuk could even explain, she had already laid out the problem.

【Money isn’t an issue.】 Yoo Joonghyuk replied.

【Fine by me. I’ve got plenty of idle people lying around anyway.】 she said.

【But this is the best solution you could come up with?】 She sent over a shaking-head emoji full of disdain.

【Then spit out your genius plan.】 Yoo Joonghyuk asked.

【Simple. You go to your esports club. I’ll keep an eye on him. When I give the signal, you call him. Make sure your coach is yelling in the background, scolding you for not focusing on training.】

Yoo Joonghyuk waited for her next step, only to realize that was the whole plan. He typed back, baffled: 【And then?】

【And then what? Then that idiot will realize that because of him, you can’t even train properly, you’re distracted every day, and your bright future is about to go up in flames. That’ll make him behave.】

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at the screen for a long time before forcing out: 【What kind of nonsense is that?】

【Don’t believe me? Try it. He just doesn’t want to sleep with you, it’s not that he doesn’t care.】 Han Sooyoung fired back instantly.

【He’d do more for you than you think.】

【Trust me. And quit dragging this out. I’m sick of watching you two.】

 

 

Yoo Joonghyuk hated to admit it, but the trick worked even better than he expected. And even after Kim Dokja presented, it was still just as effective.

That night, when he went to find Kim Dokja, the man was in the kitchen rinsing a plate that had held fruit. He must’ve just finished eating blueberries. The club owner had brought them back from his hometown, and every player had gotten two boxes.

Yoo Joonghyuk came up behind him, wrapped his arms around him, and sniffed. His brows furrowed immediately. Kim Dokja had learned too quickly how to suppress his pheromones; his glands gave off no scent at all. Dissatisfied, Yoo Joonghyuk pressed his teeth against the back of his neck.

“You—” Kim Dokja nearly dropped the plate. He turned, furious. “Don’t bite at random! What are you, a dog? Just because of a little pheromone—”

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t hear a word. He’d grown calluses in his ears from hearing this same lecture on repeat. All he saw were lips moving, and maybe because of all those blueberries, they were stained a faint, unnatural blue. He leaned closer, trying to press against them.

Kim Dokja reacted instantly, jerking sideways, but Yoo Joonghyuk was faster, catching his waist. Forced back, Kim Dokja arched away, one hand clamped over his mouth.

It wasn’t even a kiss, just the briefest brush of lips. Yoo Joonghyuk hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. Staring into those eyes full of accusation, a sudden thought struck him.

“First time?” he asked.

Kim Dokja glared, face blank, hands tugging at the grip on his waist. “What are you so pleased about? Let me go.”

“I want to kiss you,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Kim Dokja didn’t answer. But from his shocked expression, it wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking: Kids these days really have no shame.

Yoo Joonghyuk chose to take his silence as permission. He leaned in again, only for Kim Dokja to lift a hand between their mouths, stopping him.

“Yoo Joonghyuk.” Kim Dokja spoke firmly, calling him by name. “I’ve told you many times. I use your bed as a nest because of my physiology. It doesn’t mean I’m your Omega. It doesn’t mean we have any intimate relationship.”

Yoo Joonghyuk blinked, froze, and then deliberately stopped restraining his pheromones. He watched Kim Dokja’s nostrils flare slightly, watched the hand between them lower bit by bit.

He knew what Kim Dokja was thinking. He was the one who’d forwarded that article about the Alpha esports player who, rejected by his crush, lost his focus and ruined his career—to Han Sooyoung, who in turn had found a way to put it in front of Kim Dokja.

【How shameless, how utterly shameless.】 Han Sooyoung had commented. 【You’re really this desperate?】

Blame Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk thought furiously. If it weren’t for this idiot being all stone and steel, I wouldn’t have to go this far.

 

4.  

When Yoo Joonghyuk first joined the club, he was called in by the staff member responsible for player mental health.

“You’re an Alpha, so we’d like to know a bit more about your condition ahead of time,” she explained. “Hope you understand.”

She asked about his rut cycles, the usual symptoms. Then: “Do you currently have a Omega partner?”

Yoo Joonghyuk froze for half a beat, then muttered under his breath, frustrated: “No.”

“…All right. Got it.” The staffer gave him a soothing smile, like she had already guessed something. “If there are any changes in your relationship status later, please report it to us immediately.”

Soon enough, Yoo Joonghyuk realized why. Maybe there had been too many players fooling around in the past. The club wasn’t about to wait for honest self-reports; instead, every month they slapped a form on each desk, with a giant block of threats and warnings underneath. If players didn’t report on time, any PR disasters that followed would be deducted straight from their salaries.

That month, the staffer came by with the forms again. Two hours later, she returned to the training room. “Does anyone need to update? If nothing’s changed, you don’t have to hand it—huh?”

Yoo Joonghyuk was holding up his form. Her surprised cry drew every head in the room. The place buzzed with excitement as everyone stared at him. She hurried over, but before she could take the form, Lee Jihye snatched it away with a shriek.

“Master, what are you changing?!” She scanned it in a flash. “Relationship status update? Huh?!”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“You brat—”

The training room exploded into noisy chatter. Even Namgung Minyoung abandoned practice, the whole team circling Yoo Joonghyuk.

“Say it. Who.” Namgung Minyoung tapped the rolled-up paper in her hand.

“…My neighbor.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“…Two years.”

“And how long have you been together?”

Yoo Joonghyuk ground his teeth, irritation boiling at Kim Dokja’s evasive attitude. They’d done nearly everything a couple could do, but the man refused to admit it. His scowl was quickly misread by the staffer as embarrassment. She tried to intervene. “Hey I think we should respect the player’s privacy—”

“You don’t know this kid. If he really wanted to keep it quiet, he wouldn’t be submitting the form in public.” Namgung snorted. “My guess is he just snagged someone and can’t wait to brag.”

“Is he still a student?” Lee Hyunsung asked curiously.

“No,” said Yoo Joonghyuk. “He runs a shop.”

“A shop?” Jang Hayoung ****blinked. “At that age?”

“He’s older than me.”

“How much older?” Namgung Minyoung pressed.

“Nine years.”

The room fell dead silent. Everyone’s faces were a spectacle in their own way.

 

 

“…Sugar baby??” stammered the youngest, Lee Jihye. “Master’s face could totally pull it off…”

“No.”

“Child groom…?” God knows where Lee Hyunsung had picked that word up.

“No.”

“A man-eating witch?!” Jang Hayoung went wild.

“What the hell are you even thinking.” Yoo Joonghyuk was speechless.

“All right, shut up.” Namgung Minyoung waved a hand. “Yoo Joonghyuk, with me.”

He followed her into the break room. The tall woman perched right on the coffee table, legs crossed.

“We did a background check before you joined,” Namgung Minyoung said. “I know your family situation’s complicated. So I have to ask. You’re sure this so-called neighbor has nothing to do with all that?”

“I’m sure,” Yoo Joonghyuk said.

Namgung Minyoung didn’t press further. She picked up the ashtray on the table, studying it like it was suddenly fascinating. Yoo Joonghyuk took a long breath. Maybe to everyone else, this relationship seemed ridiculous. But unlike Kim Dokja, he had no intention of running away from the fact.

The next second, Namgung Minyoung swung an arm and smacked him hard on the shoulder.

“For someone who makes you want to brag in public…ha! Now I’m curious.” She burst out laughing. “Bring him by sometime, let us meet him.”

“Don’t let it mess with training, though,” she added.

 

 

 

5.  

“Your rut’s coming soon,” Kim Dokja said.

“Your match is next week.” His expression stayed calm, but Yoo Joonghyuk saw his Adam’s apple bob as if he were forcing down a swallow. “Are you going like this?”

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him.

“…You need help.” Kim Dokja didn’t look away. “This match matters.”

In relationships, Kim Dokja was passive. He rarely sought closeness on his own. At most, he’d drift half-asleep into Yoo Joonghyuk’s space, leaning against him unconsciously. He never put anything into words, either. But sometimes, this Omega managed to catch Yoo Joonghyuk completely off guard.

Before Yoo Joonghyuk could even move, Kim Dokja had already set the plan.

“Take the day off from your club the day after tomorrow,” he said.

 

 

 

The next day, coming back from the club, Yoo Joonghyuk went straight into Kim Dokja’s place.

He hadn’t expected much. Or rather, though his mind had run off into fantasies, he knew perfectly well that with Kim Dokja’s shamelessly straight-laced nature, there was no way he’d ever wear anything daring to indulge an Alpha’s preferences. And sure enough, when Yoo Joonghyuk opened the door, Kim Dokja was lying on the couch in the newly bought pajamas that looked proper enough to go grocery shopping downstairs, scrolling on his phone.

But he must have just showered. The scent of body wash still lingered in the air, and even that was enough to make an Alpha on the edge of heat stir with excitement.

Yoo Joonghyuk walked straight over, braced himself on the couch, and pressed down on him. Kim Dokja sank into the cushions with a hiss. “Do you have any idea how heavy you are?!”

Seeing him struggle for breath, Yoo Joonghyuk pushed himself up just enough, staring down at his face for a moment before lowering himself to kiss him.

Kim Dokja’s response was stiff. His lips pressed tight, arm jammed like a barrier between them. Before, he’d always been in heat, instinct drowning out reason. Now, his ever-thinking brain couldn’t help but process every single touch.

Yoo Joonghyuk let go of his restraint, pheromones spilling thick into the room. The sudden wave made the Omega choke, mouth parting as if to speak. Yoo Joonghyuk caught his lips, shutting him up before he could waste breath on words.

He licked at him, tongue clinging and insistent, palm cupping his cheek to tilt it back, forcing out the Omega’s scent before finally pulling away. Spit ran from the corner of Kim Dokja’s mouth. He wiped it quickly with the back of his hand.

“…Has it started already?” Kim Dokja panted. “Your runt?”

“Not yet.” Yoo Joonghyuk buried his face into the crook of his neck, sucking at the pale skin, leaving marks as his hand slipped under the pajamas. The warmth and softness of that skin was always enough to undo him.

“Then when—”

“You’ll know,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. “Don’t regret it when it comes.”

He guessed Kim Dokja was regretting it.

But Kim Dokja said nothing, just knelt between Yoo Joonghyuk’s legs, struggling to take the massive cock into his mouth. Sometimes he went too hard, hitting the back of his throat, and he’d pause, eyes red, breathing heavily through his nose. Once he recovered, he stubbornly resumed bobbing his head. When semen shot into his mouth, he propped himself up, spat it out, and coughed messily.

Finally catching his breath, Kim Dokja lowered his gaze and cursed in frustration, “How are you still—”

Yoo Joonghyuk sat up. Kim Dokja’s clumsy blowjob was pure torture for an Alpha in his rut, and it took everything in him not to grab the other’s head and thrust recklessly into his throat. He pinned the flustered Omega to the bed, prying apart legs that tried to clamp shut. The rear entrance was already soaked, slick gushing out with every embarrassed squirm, dripping down the crease of his thighs.

Yoo Joonghyuk looked away. He couldn’t keep testing his crumbling self-control. He pressed Kim Dokja’s legs together and thrust his cock between the gap. Eyes tightly shut, he imagined plunging into the Omega’s scorching passage, imagined truly claiming Kim Dokja. Kim Dokja’s breaths came in broken gasps, legs squeezing tighter, his hands reaching to stroke the searing shaft. After some time, Yoo Joonghyuk came a second time, white fluid splattering across Kim Dokja’s abdomen.

Kim Dokja let out a long sigh, covering his face with one hand, legs limply draped over the bed. Yoo Joonghyuk noticed his inner thighs were rubbed raw, bright red. He touched them with his fingers, and perhaps due to the pain, Kim Dokja flinched.

“No. It hurts.” Kim Dokja said, voice hoarse.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t know why, but anger surged within him instantly. Why was this guy always like this? Keeping him at arm’s length with distant words, maintaining that gap between them. But if Kim Dokja truly felt nothing for him, why would he willingly let an Alpha use him as a toy to vent during a rut? Did he indulge every stray kid he picked up like this?

Maybe, Yoo Joonghyuk thought, possessed, he should make Kim Dokja realize what was really going on in his head. Only then would this idiot stop blindly trusting kids.

He scooped up the limp Kim Dokja from the bed, one hand supporting his hips, the other around his waist, and stood, carrying him. Startled, Kim Dokja clung to his neck.

“What are you doing?” Kim Dokja asked.

“Do you know what I did here last time during my rut?”

Kim Dokja’s eyes widened, mouth opening but no words coming out. Yoo Joonghyuk carried him toward the room’s door, and the stark-naked Omega suddenly grew alert. “Wait, where are you going? Put me down—”

“I thought,” Yoo Joonghyuk set Kim Dokja down, taking advantage of his unsteady legs to press him face-first against the wooden door. The cold surface made the Omega instinctively shrink back into Yoo Joonghyuk’s arms. “If you’d come back that day—”

He slid his fingers into the soft, slick entrance, thrusting slowly, drawing a high-pitched moan from the Omega. Kim Dokja quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

“I’d fuck you right here against this door,” Yoo Joonghyuk said. The hot, tight hole eagerly sucked at his fingers. In his imagination, Kim Dokja would fight back desperately at first, stifling his own sounds, but in the end, his body would betray him. Every passerby outside would hear his aroused moans, knowing there was an Omega so desperate he couldn’t even wait to get to the bedroom, begging for an Alpha’s invasion the moment the door closed.

“Yoo Joonghyuk… ngh, you… damn it! Slow down—”

“I even used your unwashed clothes, every single piece,” he continued. “You don’t know—every time I saw you wearing those clothes, I pictured you covered in cum.”

“You… wait… ah!”

His fingers relentlessly targeted the most sensitive spot inside the Omega, while he bit down hard on the already-marked shoulder. Kim Dokja’s back arched sharply, a gush of warm liquid spurting from his rear, coating Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand. But Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t stop; he sped up, drawing sobbing whimpers from Kim Dokja. The Omega’s body, still in its refractory period, trembled violently. But the weaker he stood, the deeper he sank onto the fingers.

“You know nothing,” Yoo Joonghyuk accused, the hormones of his rut fueling his uncontrollable negativity. “You always treat me like a kid—”

“Yoo Joonghyuk!”

Heaven knows where Kim Dokja found the strength, but he roared fiercely. In the chaos of their passionate entanglement, that calm call was like a thunderclap. Yoo Joonghyuk froze, his rationality barely overriding his impulses. Kim Dokja’s body was still recovering; he shouldn’t be doing this—

Kim Dokja, struggling to prop himself against the door, turned his head. His face was flushed, hair a mess, a streak of semen from the blowjob still smeared on his cheek. The Omega roughly grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s hair, yanking the volatile Alpha down. The remorseful Alpha didn’t resist, letting Kim Dokja do as he pleased. But the Omega only sighed and pressed a soothing kiss to his lips.

“Sorry,” Kim Dokja said. “Don’t be mad.”

Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t about to forgive this bastard just because of one kiss, he thought. He wasn’t some kid to be placated with a piece of candy.

“I don’t need your apology,” Yoo Joonghyuk said stiffly.

“Don’t push it,” Kim Dokja said. He shakily turned around, stretching his arms to loop around Yoo Joonghyuk’s neck. “Go on, what else did you imagine?”