Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every main dish comes with a complimentary glass of wine that pairs perfectly.

The relationship between the two main characters, destined to fall in love, is like that of a main dish and a glass of wine—the perfect match for each other.

Since the main dish was always accompanied by the main drink, the side dish serves merely as an appetizer to enhance the flavors of the main course. No matter how delicious the appetizer may be, it would never be able to surpass the main dish. In other words, the side dish can never take the place of the main.

"Would Jin-ha like this if I gave it to him?"

Still unaware of his role in this story, the side dish once again chose to give a gift to the main uke today.

Se-hyeon gazed wearily at Shin Tae-oh, taking in the pitiful man before him.

Shin Tae-ho was the epitome of perfection—an ideal man in every sense. As the CEO of a construction company and the fifth-generation heir of a prestigious noble house, he carried an air of authority and refinement. Standing at 190 centimeters with broad shoulders, a firm chest, and, most notably, a sculpted physique that tapered down to his perfectly sculpted buttocks, he embodied true artistry.

Beyond his striking appearance, Shin Tae-ho possessed a silver tongue, effortlessly steering conversations the way he wanted it to. When the situation called for intimidation, he was downright menacing; yet when charm was required, he could sweet-talk his way to victory. With all these combined qualities, that remarkable man was none other than my boss—Shin Tae-ho.

‘...And only because he was such a character, he was also the second choice.’

Stereotypically, the main leads of BL novels were often portrayed as people who have nothing, but set against someone who has everything yet unable to obtain the protagonist. Those who fell into the latter category were always destined to be the second male lead.

Ahn Se-hyeon glanced at the gloves Shin Tae-oh pointed to—an extravagant new product rumored to cost 10 million won.

'A million won per finger?'

Despite his thoughts, Se-hyeon remained expressionless and dutifully called an employee over without hesitation.

"Please wrap it up," he asked the employee.

In other words, whenever Shin Tae-oh questioned if Jin-ha(note: the main uke) would like a gift or not, it should always be translated directly to the words: “buy it.”

Understanding the meaning behind the words, Se-hyeon relayed Shin Tae-oh’s instructions to the employee, taking out a card that couldn’t even be swiped.(note: i have no idea what that means… maybe it's a fancy credit card that an assistant cant use idk)

The employee took the cards and gloves and disappeared. After a while, they returned with the purchase neatly packed in a small shopping bag, which he took before standing in front of President Shin Tae-oh.

“I will pass on the gloves to Yoo Jin-ha,” Se-hyeon informed.

“Okay,” he replied. “Ah, never mind. It’s obvious that if I give it to Jin-ha without a reason, he wouldn’t accept.”

Yoo Jin-ha was an office worker at Shin Tae-oh's company—a diligent employee in the design department who had even risen to the position of assistant manager. And now, the company CEO found himself in an unrequited love with his own employee.

“You should tell him that his hands will get dry because of the cold weather, that I gave it to him because it makes it difficult to draw.”

‘Stop making excuses. At least come up with something believable. That dumbass always claims to be smart, yet keeps using the same flimsy reason over and over.’

“Yes sir.”
Even though the outcome of the situation was already obvious, Se-hyeon followed the order without a word.

—

Se-hyeon was merely an extra in the novel who ended up becoming the secretary. It had been over five years since he transmigrated into the story, and just under three since he took on the role of Shin Tae-oh’s secretary. He could still vividly remember the shock he felt when he first realized he had entered this world.

However it was important to note that he was not the main character — nor was he an antagonist who would die and disappear. Because of that fact, he relaxed for a while.

‘At least I won’t die.”

In this current life, he had an adoptive father, who earned income by doing manual labour, and an adoptive mother who saved money by sewing clothes. Despite their hard word, they gave him enough love that no rich kid could dream of. Thanks to them, Se-hyeon’s life wasn’t all that bad—after all, he had once been an orphan before they took him in. Because of them, he gained not only parents but also a true sense of family.

Living a poor but stable life had the greatest impact on Se-hyeon when he began searching for a job before graduating from college. He often wondered if there was a way to live well while still supporting his family.

Fortunately, the solution came easily. Se-hyeon had planned to use the original novel to the fullest.

First of all, since he knew who the villain was, all he needed to do was avoid him. Characters like that were beyond saving—anyone who got too close would inevitably face consequences, even without reason.

Getting close to the main character would also be too tiring. Se-hyeon knew he would burn out immediately to be next to two people whose love for each other endured endless trials and obstacles.

Though, in truth, Se-hyeon only needlessly worried because there was already someone perfectly fit to be a shield against the plot line.

Shin Tae-oh.

As a side character, Se-hyeon didn’t recall any scenes with the CEO facing major crises. Although Shin Tae-oh can’t really be described as having a good personality, he at least took care of those around him well enough. If Se-hyeon managed to tolerate him, he would be able to work for a long time. Once he decided on his next steps, everything else would fall into place.

After the interview, Se-hyeon quickly found himself on the frontlines, taking on various tasks. His ability to meet Shin Tae-oh's demands eventually earned him the coveted role of personal secretary.

Accommodating Shin Tae-oh’s personality was simple— act with discretion and stay mindful of every action.

It helped that his image in the public eye was already flawless, but any misstep in private matters would render Se-hyeon incompetent. And since Shin Tae-oh had no tolerance for secretaries who didn’t meet his standards, all Se-hyeon had to do was ensure that he maintained that.

Perhaps that’s why, aside from a few secretaries, Se-hyeon was quickly promoted and secured his position as an assistant.

Along with his stable monthly salary, the occasional bonuses from Shin Tae-oh significantly improved his living situation. While it wasn’t an abundance, it was enough to support his parents and manage their living expenses. With the reduced financial burden, their health also had a noticeable improvement.

It was also undeniable that Se-hyeon reaped benefits too. The studio that he currently lives alone in is clean and comfortable. His work life wasn’t that bad either—working under a reasonable boss. In fact, it was almost too good.

Except one thing.

Se-hyeon held up a shopping bag and looked with disdain.

‘Except for when Shin Tae-oh pulls stunts like this—clinging to his delusions that the main lead harbors even the slightest affection for him.’

But right now, the important thing to note is that the novel is gradually progressing and the subplot between Shin Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha is intensifying.

Stepping into the office building, he dialed Yoo Jin-ha’s main number and spoke in a straightforward tone, “Assistant Manager Yoo Jin-ha, please come meet me now.”

“Ah, please wait a moment, I'll be right there.”

Se-hyeon moved to one side of the hallway, his gaze quietly observing the steady stream of employees passing by. Before long, Yoo Jin-ha emerged.

"Hello, Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon,” Jin-ha greeted him with a kind smile.

“Hello, I have something to discuss with you,” Se-hyeon replied, his tone composed.

Glancing around the bustling office, Jin-ha leaned in slightly. “The restrooms should be empty right now,” he suggested in a hushed voice.

Se-hyeon gave a slight nod and began walking in that direction, keenly aware of the curious glances trailing him. The sight of the CEO’s personal secretary meeting with an assistant was bound to spark speculation, but Se-hyeon remained unfazed, brushing off their stares with composure.

As soon as they entered the restroom, Yoo Jin-ha turned to Se-hyeon and asked, “What’s the matter?”

Se-hyeon held out a small package, “The CEO asked me to deliver this.”

Jin-ha eyed the package with reluctance, “...What is it?

Se-hyeon already anticipated his hesitation. If he asked Jin-ha to open it himself, he’d likely refuse without even looking inside.

“They’re gloves,” Se-hyeon stated simply.

Jin-ha’s expression stiffened. “I’m sorry, but I can't accept a gift Like this. It’s honestly burdensome. I really don't know why the CEO wanted me to receive this a second time."

Se-hyeon replied dryly, repeating Shin Tae-oh, word by word. “He said he’s giving it to you because of the cold. ‘Your hands might chapped, making it difficult to draw.’”

Jin-ha let out a sigh, his exhaustion evident. “Because…it’s cold.” he echoed, clearly unimpressed.

The warm air from the ceiling vents gently ruffled Jin-ha’s hair, a stark contrast to the winter chill outside. Scrutinising Jin-ha closer, Se-hyeon noticed something on his head—Jin-ha’s hair was damp. Could it have been sweat?

Jin-ha’s hair swayed in the warm air coming from the ceiling. Even when it was currently winter, it was warm inside the company. Looking closer Se-hyeon noticed that Yoo Jin-ha’s hair seemed to be wet. Was it sweat?

A heavy silence settled between them as they stood in the restroom, both silently contemplating the absurdity of their boss’s latest antics.

“Well regardless,” Se-hyeon continued, averting his eyes to the side, “He told me to give it to you for that reason.” Even when Shin Tae-oh came up with those bullshit excuses, the embarrassment always fell on him.

“I’m sorry. I really can’t accept this gift.”

“Understood.” Se-hyeon replied without hesitation, his tone flat and unwavering. He had no intention to try and force this gift onto Jin-ha—if anything, he was relieved to be rid of the awkward task. Without another word, he turned on his heel, reaching for the metallic doorknob, eager to slip away from the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Just as he was about to step out, a voice halted him.

“Wait, Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon.”

Se-hyeon paused, his hand still resting on the doorknob. He turned slightly, one brow lifting in mild curiosity. “What is it?”

For a brief moment, he wondered—had Yoo Jin-ha changed his mind? Perhaps he had decided to accept his boss’s shallow gesture after all.

Instead, Jin-ha met his gaze with an unreadable expression. “Do you happen to have a lover?”

‘Yoo Jin-ha should be falling for the other male lead by now, so why was he asking me something like this?’

"Ah... someone else asked me to find out," Jin-ha added quickly, as if sensing the silent question in my gaze.

Se-hyeon studied him for a moment. Still, it wasn’t a difficult question to answer.

‘No, I don’t have one. And I have no plans on having one in the future–’

“ —Yes there is.” Se-hyeon answered instead—the excuse rolling off conveniently.

Although Se-hyeon had read the novel and found himself trapped in its world, there was one thing he still couldn’t get used to—his omegan trait. No matter how many times he looked at the trait listed on his resident registration card, it never felt real to him.

Deciding to put an end to the awkward encounter, Se-hyeon gave a quick bow and made his exit without another word.

Retracing his steps through the office, he ignored the curious glances that followed him—again. But that was fine. After all, he was just a secretary, and his only job was to cater to President Shin Tae-oh’s every whim.

‘Just relax…’

This world… this life…

Se-hyeon, who had found himself trapped in the body of an insignificant extra, was having yet another miserable day at work again.
–

“He refused?” Shin Tae-oh gritted out through his teeth.

“Yes sir.” Se-hyeon replied, his head bowed in practiced obedience.

There was no need to ask why—everyone with common sense knew the answer. Shin Tae-oh, however, simply narrowed his eyes at the untouched shopping bag, his dissatisfaction evident in the sharp crease of his brow.

“Why wouldn’t he accept my gift?” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to Se-hyeon's lingering presence.

‘Who in their right mind would?’ Se-hyeon resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Was the gift not good enough?”

‘No, sir. Maybe it’s you that’s not good enough.’ He bit back the thought with a sigh.

“Or…did he burdened by the gift?”

‘Ha… No. You are the burden.’

Se-hyeon wanted to scold him—tell him to stop blaming the object—but instead, he stood motionless, his face a mask of indifference.

President Shin Tae-oh, unfortunately, couldn’t even use the gloves himself as it was meant for Yoo Jin-ha. With his large hands, they were utterly useless to him. That left only one solution.

“Shall I get a refund?” Se-hyeon asked, his tone professional.

Shin Tae-oh waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. You can have them, Secretary Ahn.”

“Understood.”

As Shin Tae-oh continued muttering to himself, venting his frustrations over Yoo Jin-ha’s rejection yet again, Se-hyeon’s gaze fell on the luxurious gloves. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Starting tomorrow, they were his. And he would wear them with pride.

"...However," Tae-oh’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Se-hyeon subtly shifted the shopping bag behind him, schooling his expression into feigned indifference as he met his boss’s gaze.

"Does Jin-ha like king crab?"

Se-hyeon swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry with the prospect of the president having a new idea.

"I’ll make the reservation.”

Chapter Text

As expected, the main uke, Yoo Jin-ha, turned down the side seme, Shin Tae-oh’s, offer to share a meal. The steamed king crab sat proudly on the table, its snowy white flesh contrasting vividly against its deep red shell. At first glance, Yoo Jin-ha assumed it would have gone cold, having been boiled and prepared beforehand, but the high-end restaurant proved different.

The crab had been dismantled so swiftly and served so promptly that it was still steaming, a sight so captivating that Se-hyeon found himself staring. Across the table, Shin Tae-oh rested his chin in his hand, a clear expression of dissatisfaction on his face.

“How could anyone refuse this?” he muttered, eyeing the untouched delicacy with a brooding expression.

There was nothing wrong with the crab—it was perfection plated. The real mistake lay in Shin Tae-oh’s relentless persistence, his desperate calls to Yoo Jin-ha only serving to push him further away.

‘Not only did Yoo Jin-ha refuse the meal, but he also went to meet Ha Min-hyuk—the main lead.’

And now, thanks to that, Shin Tae-oh sat alone at one side of the table.

“Tsk.”

Se-hyeon watched him in silence, inwardly critiquing his posture. ‘You shouldn't leave food sitting there. Keep your elbows off the table, and for God's sake, stop resting your chin like that.’

It wasn’t enough to merely show reverence to the exquisite king crab—one had to respect it properly.

Along with Yoo Jin-ha’s rejection came the inevitable—the president’s endless lamenting. Se-hyeon listened in silence, feeling as if his ears were developing a permanent scab from the constant complaints.

"Do you want to leave?" Se-hyeon asked, his voice carefully neutral.

As always, he buried his true thoughts and pulled out his phone to call the driver. Without Yoo Jin-ha here, Shin Tae-oh may not be interested in how fascinating the king crab is.

Since the president clearly had no intention of dining alone, Se-hyeon figured he could wrap things up quickly and head home himself. His mind was already set—he'd cook up a pot of seafood ramen to satisfy the lingering craving left by the aroma of the crab that clung stubbornly to his senses.

‘I need to eat seafood ramen.’

The fishy scent had settled in his nose, and he doubted it would leave until he had something similar to satisfy it.

"It's fine." Shin Tae-oh muttered suddenly.

Se-hyeon paused mid-dial, raising an eyebrow. When he realized Tae-oh intended to stay and eat, he gave a curt nod, already planning his quiet escape. Picking up his bag, he turned on his heel, ready to step out and wait until his boss was done.

"Please call me when you've finished eating," he said, bowing slightly before reaching for the sliding door.

"Wait a sec."

Se-hyeon froze, hand on the doorknob. He turned back, his expression polite yet distant. "Do you need anything, sir?"

To his surprise, Shin Tae-oh burst into laughter, his usual frustration momentarily forgotten.

"You expect me to eat all this by myself? Don't you think it’s a bit much?"

"Ah." Se-hyeon blinked, realizing the sheer volume of food left untouched.

Tae-oh gestured to the seat across from him with a smirk. "Sit down. Let’s eat together."

Se-hyeon hesitated for a moment before exhaling softly. It wasn’t exactly part of his plan for the night, but refusing Shin Tae-oh wasn’t an option. With a quiet nod, he stepped back inside and set down his bag.

‘Looks like ramen will have to wait.’

“But…” Se-hyeon hesitated, his voice trailing off.

Shin Tae-oh's gaze sharpened, his irritation barely concealed. "Why? I usually eat well. Don’t you want to eat too?"

Perhaps it was the sting of rejection from earlier, but his tone carried an edge that warned Se-hyeon against further refusal. For a brief moment, Se-hyeon considered declining again, but his instincts quickly overrode the thought. Now was not the time to push back against the president’s whims.

"I just thought..." he paused before deciding on a safer response, "that this didn’t seem like enough for two people."

Shin Tae-oh blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected answer. He leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping against the polished wooden table as he considered it. "Hm."

Without another word, Tae-oh reached over and pressed the call bell. The soft chime broke the quiet ambiance of the private dining room.

The sliding door opened soundlessly, and a server stepped in with a practiced bow. Unfortunately for Se-hyeon, who had been hurriedly making his escape, found his hand grasping at empty air, left hovering awkwardly in the air.

"Order one more," Shin Tae-oh instructed coolly, without sparing Se-hyeon so much as a glance.

Se-hyeon exchanged a brief look with the server, silently asking if they had understood the order. The staff member, accustomed to such interactions, responded with an efficient nod. "Of course, sir."

As the server withdrew, Se-hyeon exhaled silently and, realizing he had no other choice, moved to sit across from Shin Tae-oh. The seat felt colder than he expected, but he adjusted with a composed expression.

"This really didn’t seem like enough for two..." Shin Tae-oh muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Ignoring the president’s musings, Se-hyeon reached for the seafood fork and began peeling the crab with practiced efficiency. The flesh, already expertly prepared, required minimal effort, but he worked with steady diligence, scraping each piece out methodically.

Across from him, Shin Tae-oh watched with an unreadable expression, the tension from earlier easing just slightly.

Se-hyeon, however, remained focused on his task. If he was going to be here, he might as well make the most of it.

Shin Tae-oh suddenly blurted out with a dramatic sigh, sounding more like a lovesick schoolgirl. “I ordered the best food to enjoy with Jin-ha.”

Se-hyeon, who was long past being amused by his theatrics, resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he blandly replied inwardly, ‘I know. Because I was the one who ordered it.’

Not only did he place the order, but he also personally inspected the king crab’s condition before it was steamed to perfection.

Shin Tae-oh sighed again, heavier this time. “I can’t believe I’m sharing this with Secretary Ahn. Do I look pitiful?”

Without thinking, Se-hyeon muttered, “There will be another good opportunity next time.” A polite response that slipped out before he could stop it. He didn’t even mean it. After all, it wasn’t like he could just come out and say the truth—‘Jin-ha doesn't eat with you for a reason.’

But Tae-oh, ever self-absorbed, continued his lament. “Do you think Jin-ha wants to eat with me? Can I even face him with these eyes? If he were just a little closer, he’d see how ridiculously handsome I am.”

Se-hyeon, now expertly tuning him out, placed a bowl of freshly sliced crab meat in front of him with the same mechanical efficiency he used for most of his tasks. He couldn’t tell if Tae-oh was regretting not dining with Jin-ha or if he was simply bragging about his own looks again. Probably both.

Across the table, Shin Tae-oh finally looked down at the neatly arranged bowl of crab, then lifted his head to meet Se-hyeon’s blank stare.
‘What now? Even with a meal right in front of you, are you still too heartbroken to eat?’ Se-hyeon thought, defeated at his whining.

Sighing inwardly, he kept his tone steady. “Please eat.”

Shin Tae-oh blinked at the food as if it had magically appeared, then slowly picked up his chopsticks with a sulky expression.

“Okay...” he mumbled, poking at the crab meat blandly.

Se-hyeon barely suppressed the urge to stab the president, instead gritting his teeth together. Babysitting a heartbroken CEO was never in his job description, but here he was, making sure he ate properly like an overworked parent dealing with a stubborn child.

Shin Tae-oh stared at the bowl of crab meat in front of him, then slowly lifted his gaze to meet Se-hyeon’s eyes. His expression was unreadable.

What now? Even with the meticulously prepared meal right in front of him, was it still impossible for him to eat?

“Please, eat,” Se-hyeon prompted, his tone carefully neutral.

Realizing the meticulously prepared crab was meant for him, Shin Tae-oh hesitated before picking up his chopsticks.

“…Okay.”
Holding a plump leg that Se-hyeon had expertly extracted, Shin Tae-oh took a tentative bite. As he chewed, he tilted his head slightly, as if assessing the taste.
“What is it?” Se-hyeon asked, watching him curiously.
"Is this your first time trying king crab?" Shin Tae-oh asked, fiddling boredly with his chopsticks.
Se-hyeon paused, momentarily caught off guard. He considered the question for a moment before nodding. Now that he thought about it, today was indeed the first time he’d ever been up close and personal with something like king crab—let alone tasted it.
"Does it taste alright?" Se-hyeon asked, unable to hide a trace of concern.

Shin Tae-oh smirked. "If anyone overheard you, they'd think you were the one being boiled instead of the crab."

Se-hyeon cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I picked it out myself."

"It's delicious," Shin Tae-oh admitted at last.

Hearing that, Se-hyeon let out a quiet breath of relief, concealing his satisfaction. He prided himself on having chosen a crab so perfectly prepared that it looked like sushi—just without the rice underneath. Still, he maintained his usual composed expression in front of his boss.

"Secretary Ahn, eat." Shin Tae-oh said, pushing some of the crab toward him.

"Thank you for the food," Se-hyeon replied politely.

He picked up a piece of the tender crab meat and placed it in his mouth.

‘It's really amazing’

‘Absolutely the best.’

With just one bite, he felt his toes curling and uncurling under the table in a silent struggle to contain his excitement.

"Judging by your face, it doesn't seem that good," Shin Tae-oh observed dryly.

‘It’s so fucking delicious.’

"No," he answered calmly, schooling his features into neutrality. Without missing a beat, he picked up the seafood fork again and continued working diligently to remove more meat. Keeping a steady rhythm, he ensured his mouth never remained empty for long.

With two men eating, it didn’t take long to finish off an entire king crab. Se-hyeon, who wasn’t particularly bothered by the wait for the next one, idly nibbled on a sweet potato fry when Shin Tae-oh suddenly smiled over the rim of his water glass.

"Secretary Ahn, you were right. One wasn’t enough," Shin Tae-oh remarked, his tone lighter than before.

Se-hyeon’s gaze swept over the table. The once-impressive spread had dwindled down to mere remnants—side dishes reduced to a few stray garnishes, and the magnificent king crab now little more than an empty shell. It was only natural to run out of food, but something about the way Shin Tae-oh said it made Se-hyeon pause.

"Some people eat so little," Shin Tae-oh added offhandedly, swirling the water in his glass.

It was only then that Se-hyeon realized what he meant.

‘Ah.’

Yoo Jin-ha—Shin Tae-oh’s longtime friend’s younger brother. It made perfect sense. There was enough of a narrative there, enough history to build up feelings from years of familiarity and proximity.

So it’s the classic one-sided childhood love trope.

"He eats as much as a bird," Shin Tae-oh muttered, his voice laced with a strange fondness. "Well, it's no wonder he's so small if he eats like that."

Yoo Jin-ha stood at 179 centimeters—objectively not short. However, standing next to Shin Tae-oh, who towered at an impressive 190 centimeters (or 189.9, to be exact), Jin-ha appeared smaller by comparison.

"It would've been nice if Jin-ha were as healthy and well-built as Secretary Ahn," Shin Tae-oh mused aloud.

Se-hyeon, who stood at a respectable 183 centimeters, responded with his usual lifeless tone, "Is that so?"

Before the conversation could drag on further, a timely knock at the door signaled the arrival of their next course. An employee entered, swiftly clearing away the remnants of their first meal and setting down a new steaming dish. Se-hyeon welcomed the interruption, grateful to shift focus away from Shin Tae-oh's complaints.

Without hesitation, he picked up his utensils and efficiently separated the delicate crab flesh from its shell. The idea of going home to enjoy a simple bowl of seafood ramen had officially been canceled.

"What would you have eaten if you had left earlier?" Shin Tae-oh's sudden question caught Se-hyeon off guard.

Suppressing his surprise, he maintained a composed tone. "I would have cooked ramen."

"Ramen?" Shin Tae-oh repeated, eyebrows raised as if the idea of instant noodles was unfathomable. Shin Tae-oh's reaction was more incredulous than expected.

If Se-hyeon had refused this dinner, he would have been slurping broth at home by now. But instead of dwelling on it, he simply placed another generous portion of crab meat onto Shin Tae-oh's plate.

"Eat first," he said, effectively ending the conversation.

Once their meal was finished and the bill settled, Se-hyeon stepped outside, expecting to head home. However, Shin Tae-oh, who had left first, stood frozen in place just outside the restaurant.

"Why are you still here—"

"Shh."

At the hushed command, Se-hyeon instinctively fell silent, his gaze following Shin Tae-oh's line of sight. Just a short distance away, two familiar figures stood in tense confrontation—Ha Min-hyuk and Yoo Jin-ha, the protagonists of this world.

‘What are they doing here?’ Se-hyeon wondered, narrowing his eyes at the scene.

"Jin-ha, listen to me," Ha Min-hyuk pleaded, his voice strained.

"No. I have nothing more to say," Jin-ha snapped, his expression tight with frustration.

"Why not? It was all a mistake!"

The argument was heating up, and the way Min-hyuk reached out to grab Jin-ha’s wrist suggested he wasn’t ready to let things go. Se-hyeon didn’t need context to guess the situation—a typical romantic drama unfolding right in the middle of the street.

"What do you think about all that?" Shin Tae-oh's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Se-hyeon pretended to contemplate the scene, but in reality, he already had an answer.

I think Tae-nyang will be thrilled to see an opening.

It was his little inside joke, shortening "Shin Tae-oh Seung-nyang" to "Tae-nyang" in his mind—an unfortunate nickname, but fitting nonetheless.

"I have no particular thoughts. Sorry," Se-hyeon replied smoothly, offering the safest response he could think of.

As if those words were all he needed to hear, Shin Tae-oh’s face brightened in an instant, his eyes practically sparkling with newfound enthusiasm. "Really? Then I think I have a shot!" he declared, his voice brimming with excitement. "I'm feeling great today—I'm full, and I've seen some very promising developments."

With an eager spring in his step, Shin Tae-oh turned away, his mood soaring. Se-hyeon sighed inwardly, watching his boss walk ahead with an almost childlike glee. Despite himself, he threw a glance back at the protagonists.

If those two are fighting like that… does that mean they’re already at that point?

The tension between Yoo Jin-ha and Ha Min-hyuk was palpable—frustration lined their faces, their words sharp and cutting. They had yet to realize the source of their misunderstandings, blinded by their emotions and the meddling of outside forces. Right now, their relationship teetered on the edge of something deeper, with this conflict serving as the catalyst.

But Se-hyeon knew better. This wasn’t the end; it was only the beginning of their inevitable closeness.

Meanwhile, in stark contrast, Shin Tae-oh—blissfully unaware of his future heartbreak—was currently reveling in the scene. To him, this was nothing short of an exciting opportunity.

Se-hyeon watched the broad, confident back of his boss with an expression of quiet pity.

Do your best, Taenyang. I’ll be watching. Have fun while you can.’

Chapter Text

"I remember I had somewhere to go," Shin Tae-oh said suddenly.

Se-hyeon glanced at him from the passenger seat, his fingers idly adjusting the car’s navigation system. "Please let me know, and we’ll head there right away."

Originally, he had planned to head straight home and enjoy a quiet evening, but his boss’s sudden change of plans put an end to that thought. Tae-oh leaned back against the seat, his expression unreadable as he finally spoke.

He only uttered the name of a bar—no explanation, no context. Typical.

After inputting the destination, Se-hyeon grabbed the door handle, ready to leave. "Then, I'll be off for the night, sir."

Shin Tae-oh's gaze shifted to him, dark eyes assessing. "Are you clocking out?"

Se-hyeon paused. "Do you need something else from me?"

As Tae-oh’s secretary, it was his job to follow his boss’s schedule without question. However, personal outings—like a trip to a bar—fell outside his jurisdiction. He had no intention of intruding on Tae-oh’s personal time, and with no explicit orders to stay, he assumed his role ended here.

But for some reason, Tae-oh wasn’t dismissing him. Instead, he tilted his head and asked, "Do you want a drink?"

‘With who? Se-hyeon blinked. With me? Just the two of us?

An awkward scenario played out in his mind—sharing drinks with his boss, the conversation inevitably circling back to Yoo Jin-ha. The thought alone made his shoulders tense, but he forced himself to remain composed. The only logical answer here was the one that made his life easier.

"Alright," Se-hyeon agreed smoothly, nodding.

He had originally planned to go home and crack open a cheap beer, but if his boss was offering him top-shelf drinks at no cost, who was he to refuse? Besides, it would likely be the same routine—Tae-oh talking about Jin-ha while Se-hyeon nodded along, offering the occasional remark. If all he had to do was listen, he could enjoy his drink in peace.

"Then let's go," Tae-oh said with a smirk, as if pleased by his compliance.

Se-hyeon sighed internally and settled into his seat. Tonight was going to be longer than expected.

As the driver started the engine, Se-hyeon pulled out his phone and updated the schedule.

‘I see, so from this point on, the president’s personal time begins.’

–

“Jin-ha fought.”

Sitting side by side at the bar, Se-hyeon sipped the expensive liquor Shin Tae-oh had ordered for him. The smooth, rich flavor clung to his tongue, a far cry from the cheap beer waiting in his fridge at home. This, he thought, is why people need to make money.

If he ever wanted to enjoy drinks like this without worrying about the price, maybe sticking close to Shin Tae-oh wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"Jin-ha fought."

Shin Tae-oh’s voice broke through his thoughts. He seemed to be drunk and had been repeating the same thing for a while now, staring into his glass with a dazed expression.

"So… that means I have a chance to slip in, right?" Tae-oh mused, swirling his drink. "What should I do to make Jin-ha notice me? Hm... not enough alcohol? Should I order more?"

Se-hyeon, who had no reason to refuse free drinks, nodded. "Thank you."

At Tae-oh’s signal, the bartender swiftly cleared the table in front of them and replaced it with a fresh round of drinks and snacks. Se-hyeon raised his glass and took a sip.

‘It’s fragrant.’

The new liquor carried a sweeter aroma than the previous one, yet it was just as potent. A deep richness lingered at the back of his throat, only to be mellowed by the creamy cheese served alongside it. He took another bite, feeling the velvety texture dissolve in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Tae-oh continued his rambling. "Even if they fight, they'll meet again. But before that, I need an opportunity to make Jin-ha fully aware of me... What should it be? A car? A building?"

Se-hyeon barely registered his boss's words, too absorbed in the drink.
‘What kind of alcohol is this? Why is it so good? And this cheese… how can it be this thick? Is it fermented or something?’

"But, Secretary Ahn," Tae-oh suddenly said, snapping Se-hyeon out of his thoughts.

Se-hyeon placed his glass down carefully. "Yes, sir?"

"How much more delicious food do you have to eat before your expression finally changes?"

Se-hyeon froze for a moment. When did he even look at me?

Tae-oh, despite his drunken musings, was perceptive enough to notice Se-hyeon’s carefully controlled demeanor. As a secretary, maintaining an impassive face was second nature to him, but perhaps it looked odd in this context.

"Thank you."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment."

When Shin Tae-oh tilted his head and peered closely at Se-hyeon's face, his brows twitched slightly. Whether it was out of curiosity or something else, Se-hyeon didn't appreciate being scrutinized.

"Shall we look into cars?" he asked, steering the conversation back to Yoo Jin-ha in an effort to divert Shin Tae-oh’s attention.

Tae-oh smirked. "So you were listening. And yet you didn’t bother to answer."

"I'll check right away."

"Good. Make sure it’s not a sports car. I hate how you have to practically crawl out of those things. Too uncomfortable."

Se-hyeon couldn't help but picture the scene—Yoo Jin-ha behind the wheel, Shin Tae-oh squeezed into the passenger seat, grumbling about the cramped space. ‘As if Jin-ha would even accept it in the first place.

Se-hyeon had lost count of how many gifts Tae-oh had tried to give him. Every single one had been rejected, yet here he was, considering a car as his next grand gesture.

‘It’s amazing how much faith he has in this plan.’

No matter how ridiculous he found it, Se-hyeon kept his expression neutral. Showing his true thoughts would serve no purpose.

‘I just have to do my job well.’

It wasn't his concern how many more gifts Shin Tae-oh intended to offer. The only thing that mattered was keeping his own secrets intact. He had too much on his plate to worry about something like this.

Although he appreciated the expensive alcohol, moments like these—when Shin Tae-oh's gaze lingered too long—made him wary.

"You know," Tae-oh mused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Looking at you like this, Secretary Ahn is quite—"

"Shall we check out the building options?" Se-hyeon interrupted smoothly, his tone light but firm, expertly cutting off Tae-oh’s train of thought without offending him.

‘Focus on your grand plans, Tae-oh. Forget about the secretary who’s just an extra in this story. Come one Taenyang, you can do it.’

"Hmm. Should I just have a car custom built for him?"

The construction company president was very flexible.

Se-hyeon turned his head slightly, careful to keep the side of his face out of clear view. He was paying attention to his surroundings when a loud voice called out from behind.

"This way."

A loud voice called out from behind them. Shin Tae-oh glanced over Se-hyeon’s shoulder and saw a familiar figure approaching. He had seen him a few times—Yoo Jin-ha's older brother and Tae-oh's old friend.

Unlike others, Yoo Jin-hyeon knew all about Tae-oh's feelings for Jin-ha. In the novel, he was the only one aware of it. Se-hyeon, on the other hand, remained just a secretary—someone who blended into the background and certainly wasn’t a confidant.

"It’s been a while, Tae-oh."

"I've been busy. How have you been?"

The man sat next to Tae-oh, his gaze briefly landing on Se-hyeon before speaking.

"Long time no see, Mr. Se-hyeon."

"Hello," Se-hyeon greeted politely, then subtly turned away, signaling his lack of interest in the conversation.

"How do you know Secretary Ahn’s name?"

"I saw it on his business card. Funny, our names are really similar—I'm Jin-hyeon, and he's Se-hyeon."

Se-hyeon raised an eyebrow. If anything, he thought Jin-hyeon should have compared himself to his own brother, Yoo Jin-ha, whose name differed by only one character.

"You sure are friendly with someone else’s secretary," Shin Tae-oh remarked, feigning irritation.

"You’re one to talk. You act like my little brother belongs to you," Yoo Jin-hyeon shot back with an amused grin.

"So, why did you call me here?" Jin-hyeon asked.

"Ah, Jin-ha got into a fight today. I saw it myself."

"And?"

"I figured this was my chance to finally make him mine. I need your help."

Jin-hyeon shook his head in disbelief, already regretting answering the call. As he ordered a drink, the bartender's wary expression suggested the price was steep. Se-hyeon made a mental note to order the same.

"I don't get it. What do you even like about Jin-ha?" Jin-hyeon asked.

"He's pretty," Tae-oh replied without hesitation.

"A face like that is common," Jin-hyeon shrugged.

"Where?" Tae-oh frowned.

With a sly grin, Jin-hyeon gestured toward Se-hyeon.

"Se-hyeon's not worse than Jin-ha, is he? Isn't he better?"

Tae-oh glanced at Se-hyeon, evaluating him.

"Secretary Ahn isn't ugly, but he just has a different charm. Jin-ha is... pretty. Se-hyeon is more—neat?"

"See? That just proves Jin-ha has a common face."

"Say something else."

"He has a great body and personality," Tae-oh insisted.

"Have you seen him naked?" Jin-hyeon teased, then turned to Se-hyeon with a professional air. "As a photographer, I'd say your proportions are better. Jin-ha's too thin, but you—you're slim with balance."

Se-hyeon remained impassive, though internally, he wished he hadn't come.

"Ah, Mr. Se-hyeon, don’t take it the wrong way. Just a professional opinion, nothing weird. Nevermind, I made a mistake. If you ever want me to take photos for you—"

"Stop making offers and sit down." Tae-oh cut him off, pulling him back into his seat.

"I was just trying to be nice."

"Don’t go overboard with your theatrics."

“Who’s judging whom now…”

Jin-hyeon snorted but didn't argue further, offering Se-hyeon an apologetic nod.

‘Why did I even come?’ Se-hyeon thought grimly. ‘I should’ve just stayed home and drank a beer.’

"So you're planning to win Jin-ha over with gifts?"

"Yeah."

"That's pathetic," Jin-hyeon scoffed. "Jin-ha already has everything he needs. Has he even accepted anything from you yet?"

He hadn’t.

"Exactly. Gifts won’t do it. If you want a chance, hang out with him. Stop wasting money."

Se-hyeon, drinking to drown out the conversation, quietly admired the alcohol’s quality. It burned in his throat but was undeniably good.

“But there’s nothing better than a gift to express how much I like him. Even if I don’t get a chance to go on a date.”

"Then create opportunities, set the right atmosphere instead of being wasteful with money." Jin-hyeon said confidently.

Se-hyeon, who had acquired quite a bit through Shin Tae-oh’s rejected extravagant gifts, downed his drink and tried to dismiss the sour taste. If Shin Tae-oh takes Yoo Jin-hyeon’s words to heart, his benefits would disappear.

"Take him somewhere nice, set the right atmosphere. I'll arrange for him to go. In my opinion, that’s the best way to charm someone." Jin-hyeon said confidently.

"Like where?" Tae-oh asked.

Se-hyeon signaled the bartender and ordered another drink. The heat in his stomach was a warning—one more and he might start saying things he'd regret.

"A park, a bike ride, a café with a view. Why complicate things?"

Tae-oh nodded thoughtfully, then turned to Se-hyeon.

"Secretary Ahn, find a few good spots. No—let's check them out together."

"...Alright."

‘His dedication to Jin-ha is impressive, I'll give him that.’

Jin-hyeon, sipping his drink, glanced at Tae-oh with curiosity.

"Anyway, when did you start liking the ‘pretty’ type? I thought you preferred the neat vibe..."

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon finally arrived home and let out a long, exhausted sigh. His body felt heavy, sluggish from the combination of a long day and too much alcohol.

"Haa..."

He fumbled with his tie, trying to loosen it with one hand, but his tired fingers lacked the strength. Giving up, he sank to the floor, leaning his back against the edge of his bed. Tilting his head back, he exhaled slowly, the weight of the day pressing down on him.

‘Taenyang is going to be busy running around for Yoo Jin-ha for a while.’

Se-hyeon could already picture it—the frantic shopping sprees, the obsessive planning, the endless attempts to win Jin-ha over. Yoo Jin-hyeon had advised against wasting money, but Se-hyeon knew Shin Tae-oh well enough to know that advice would fall on deaf ears.

Rather than listening, Tae-oh would likely dive headfirst into grand gestures—buying gifts, planning elaborate outings, and dragging Se-hyeon along to scout locations. Some of those rejected gifts would probably end up in Se-hyeon's hands again, an all-too-familiar cycle.

Ordinarily, Se-hyeon wouldn't mind. He actually enjoyed shopping with Tae-oh—there was something amusing about watching him get so invested. But tonight, a lingering sense of unease weighed on him, something that tugged at the edges of his thoughts.

With a tired groan, he reached for his phone, tapping the screen. The glow illuminated his face as he scrolled to his calendar. His eyes scanned the packed schedule, and another deep sigh escaped him.

He remembered his own personal heat cycle, which he had forgotten about until now.

‘Bad traits, a beggar omega. Heats. Ha, fuck.’

"I have to watch Taenyang run around in circles again... This is going to drive me crazy."

He tossed his phone onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

But there was just one problem—this damn trait.

‘I’ve already seen at least a thousand dicks since I was born a man. But to have one inside of me… Ugh.’

It was unfortunate that Se-hyeon was just an extra in this world and that he had woken up in the body of a poor family's son, but he had accepted it. After all, he wasn’t a villain, so there was no danger of being kicked out or meeting a tragic end. With a decent body, he figured he could find a way to make money somehow.

A sudden realization came while he was thinking and he covered his face in resignation.
He was an omega all through and through. In this world, omegas were supposed to be placed underneath an alpha and forced to take it from the behind.

Why did he have to torture his body so much? Why was he born with such a fate? Why did he have to be an omega instead of a beta or an alpha? What was he supposed to do?

"No. Don’t get upset. Everything’s already been thought through," Se-hyeon reassured himself.

There was no reason to despair. The heat cycle was predictable, and as long as he took his suppressants properly, it wouldn't turn into a big problem. He could continue living like this in the future—without worrying about pregnancy or being entangled with an alpha.

"Let's not get distracted by the idea of heats for no reason."

What was the big deal about the cycle? It was because of Taenyang

After all, his trait was personal information. There was no need to reveal it unless he wanted to. And the reason for hiding it? Simple. If Shin Tae-oh, who was obsessed with impressing Yoo Jin-ha, ever found out, he wouldn’t just overlook it. He’d likely distance himself, not wanting to risk any misunderstandings with Jin-ha.

"Then everything I’ve built up until now will collapse," Se-hyeon thought grimly.

The stability he had carefully crafted by working tirelessly as Shin Tae-oh’s secretary was something he couldn't afford to lose. His job allowed him to take care of his parents and steadily pay off his debts, even if only little by little.

Like now...

It wasn't difficult to hide his heat since they followed a predictable schedule, but missing out on watching Taenyang trying to please Yoo Jin-ha would be a real shame.

That night, Se-hyeon dreamed of his grandmother drying peppers on a bench. Not the peppers(penis) on the human body—but actual red peppers, laid out under the sun.

–
As soon as Se-hyeon arrived at work, he handed his monthly leave document to the chief secretary.

"Oh, I see. It's already that time," the chief secretary said, glancing at the document.

Se-hyeon always took his monthly leave once every three months, usually for three days. Since it was a regular occurrence, the chief secretary accepted it without question, assuming it was time for Se-hyeon to visit his parents again.

"Are your parents still not feeling well?" the chief secretary asked.

"It's not that. But they get worried if I don't visit once in a while," Se-hyeon replied smoothly.

Although his actual reason for taking leave was because his heat cycle was approaching, he always used the excuse of visiting his parents. Having worked diligently and quietly for the past three years, the chief secretary never questioned his reasons.

However, this time, the chief secretary hesitated. He kept staring at the document with an awkward expression, as if something was bothering him.

"Is something wrong?" Se-hyeon asked.

"Normally, I’d approve it right away, but the president specifically requested your presence on these dates," the chief secretary replied, looking apologetic.

'Taenyang did?'

"A hotel reservation?" he muttered.

"He said he wanted to try the suite for the day," the chief secretary explained.

Se-hyeon's mind raced. Shin Tae-oh was not someone who frequented hotels. After all, his own house was no less luxurious than a high-end suite.

'This can only mean one thing—he wants to bring Yoo Jin-ha,' Se-hyeon realized with growing irritation.

While he understood Shin Tae-oh's obsession with impressing Yoo Jin-ha, the sudden leap to booking a hotel was... excessive, to say the least.

'No, does this guy even think about whether Jin-ha would be into this? A hotel? A hotel???'

Se-hyeon was screaming internally but outwardly remained composed. He calmly put down the tablet.

"You said he wants to stay here for one night? Wouldn't it be difficult for me to accompany him?" Se-hyeon asked, feigning casual indifference.

"You said he wants to stay here for one night? Wouldn't it be difficult for me to accompany him?" Se-hyeon asked, feigning casual indifference.

"Most likely," the chief secretary agreed.

Without hesitation, Se-hyeon declined. The timing couldn't have been worse—his heat was due to hit the day before the reservation.

"Understood. Let’s work hard today," the chief secretary said, moving on.

"Yes," Se-hyeon replied, letting out a small sigh.

Se-hyeon calmed himself as his fingers brushed against the employee ID card hanging around his neck. No matter what Shin Tae-oh said, he had to remain composed and not show any unnecessary emotion. He opened and closed his mouth a few times to maintain a neutral expression before stepping into the president's office.

"Excuse me," he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Shin Tae-oh replied casually.

"I'll brief you on today's schedule."

As Se-hyeon opened the tablet and started listing the day's agenda, Shin Tae-oh absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the desk. Ignoring the meaningless action, Se-hyeon continued reading, but Shin Tae-oh suddenly raised his hand.

"Do you have something to say?" Se-hyeon asked.

"You can't accompany me?"

"You mean the hotel? That's correct," Se-hyeon confirmed.

"That's too bad," Shin Tae-oh murmured.

Se-hyeon immediately realized how he had known about the rejection—his phone's notification light had been flashing when he entered. There was no need to convey it verbally.

"Is it possible to reschedule?" Shin Tae-oh asked.

"You want to change the reservation?" Se-hyeon inquired, surprised.

‘He was willing to adjust the date for him—and not Yoo Jin-Ha?’

"What if we move it up by a day and I leave work early the next morning?" Shin Tae-oh suggested.

The date he had originally reserved was the same day Se-hyeon's heat cycle was set to begin. If he left work earlier than planned, it might work.

"If that's not possible, then it can't be helped. But..." Shin Tae-oh trailed off, glancing away awkwardly. "I've never been to a hotel like that before. It feels a little... awkward going alone."

Se-hyeon stared at him, unimpressed. Why would he feel awkward? Wouldn't it be more embarrassing to go with me?

"I think it would be easier if I had a secretary..."

"You mean?" Se-hyeon pressed.

"I don’t think Secretary Ahn would be embarrassed about anything," Shin Tae-oh muttered, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Se-hyeon awkwardly avoided eye contact and cleared his throat.

'I'm just embarrassed by you.’

"Actually..." Shin Tae-oh hesitated, "I'm planning to invite Jin-ha to the hotel," he admitted.

‘Seriously? He's really planning to bring Yoo Jin-ha to a suite for a first date. I guess Taenyang is crazy. No matter how much Jin-hyeon tries to give him advice, he can’t change him that much.’

"Jin-hyeon will be at the hotel bar, having a drink with his younger brother. I'll only coincidentally join them," Shin Tae-oh explained, clearly pleased with his plan.

“Hold on—Sir, are you planning to take Jin-ha to a hotel room?” Se-hyeon wondered in disbelief.

"If I get really lucky, I might even convince Jin-ha to have a drink with me in the suite," Shin Tae-oh said with a grin.

"In that case, I can head home after work instead of staying overnight," Se-hyeon pointed out.

"That’s right."

"Thank you," Se-hyeon replied, masking his amusement.

Shin Tae-oh was incredibly cunning—so much so that Se-hyeon felt foolish for even considering normal date ideas like cafes and parks.

"Then, I'll adjust the schedule accordingly," Se-hyeon confirmed.

Shin Tae-oh hummed in satisfaction and stood up, looking confident.

"Jin-ha will like it," he said with a smirk.

‘That damn perverted Taenyangi.’

–
The morning of the hotel reservation, Se-hyeon buttoned up his shirt and adjusted his tie, his eyes drifting toward the drawer. With a quiet sigh, he pulled it open, revealing a neat row of pill bottles lined up in perfect order. Reaching for one, he muttered under his breath,

"I hope I don’t need it outside."

Being a recessive omega had its advantages. His pheromones were faint, and his heats were mild—so subtle that most people couldn't even tell his secondary gender. That meant he could usually manage without suppressants, unless his heat happened to hit at the wrong time. Still, he took a pill just to be careful.

Se-hyeon carefully placed the pill into a small plastic bag and tucked it securely inside his wallet. Once done, he turned back to the mirror and tightened his tie with a resigned sigh.

"I was supposed to be on vacation by now," he muttered.

But thanks to that perverted Taenyang, here he was, dressing up for work instead.

Not that it would make much of a difference. Yoo Jin-ha wouldn't stay by Shin Tae-oh's side anyway... Still, it was easy to imagine the naive excitement Shin Tae-oh must have felt, thinking he’d spend a dreamy time with the person he liked.

‘It's a bit pitiful,’ Se-hyeon thought, but Shin Tae-oh needed to face reality. Jin-ha belonged to Ha Min-hyuk.

Satisfied with his appearance, Se-hyeon straightened his suit jacket and assessed himself in the mirror. His complexion didn’t seem too bad.

‘At least I don’t think so,’ he thought.

.

.

.

Hours later, the situation had taken an unexpected turn.

"What kind of situation is this?"

Shin Tae-oh tilted his head, arms crossed in amusement as he scrutinized Se-hyeon.

"Secretary Ahn, could you answer me without panting so heavily?"

Se-hyeon’s thoughts cursed silently.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon glanced at his watch, checking the time. There were still twenty minutes left until the appointment.

Straightening his slightly hunched posture on the sofa in the hotel lobby, he wondered why he had ended up here in the first place.

‘Sure, I understand that going to the hotel is part of the job, but why couldn’t we just come together from the office?’

After receiving a call from Shin Tae-oh that morning, Se-hyeon had found himself feeling strangely unfamiliar, sitting calmly in the lobby and waiting. He ended up pretending to have a business meeting, having arrived early to wait as if it were intentional.

‘Is this what Shin Tae-oh was aiming for?’

Since he had mentioned feeling embarrassed about coming to a hotel, it seemed like Shin Tae-oh had set it up this way to make it look like a professional engagement. Feeling a little more at ease, Se-hyeon adjusted his tie and placed his bag beside him, ensuring it was clearly visible—an effort to reinforce the illusion of work.

When Shin Tae-oh arrived, should he say, "Hello, sir?" Or perhaps, "Welcome, sir?"

‘Whatever it is, just make it look professional.’

Se-hyeon’s gaze flickered to the entrance once more, his posture straightening as soon as Shin Tae-oh appeared. Quickly smoothing down his suit, he stepped forward to greet him.

They spoke at the same time.

"Hello, sir."

"Have you waited a long time, honey?"

“...”

“...”

The moment hung in the air awkwardly. Their brief greeting could have been brushed aside, but the tension between them was undeniable. Se-hyeon’s formal tone clashed starkly with Shin Tae-oh’s unexpectedly affectionate one.

Se-hyeon thought he was here for work, while Shin Tae-oh seemed to think he was meeting a lover. The conflicting mindsets created an odd silence between them.

‘What was this guy thinking when he went to sleep last night?’

‘Honey?’

If someone other than your honey calls you “honey”, do you just... respond? Se-hyeon was bewildered by Shin Tae-oh’s audacity. He said he was meeting Yoo Jin-ha today, so why was he calling Se-hyeon his honey?

Suppressing his irritation, Se-hyeon focused on the situation at hand.

"I’ve checked in," he said, steering the conversation back to business.

Shin Tae-oh coughed awkwardly and motioned toward the elevator.

"I didn’t expect you to call me sir."

"I apologize."

"I was embarrassed to come to the hotel alone, so I thought... maybe calling Secretary Ahn ‘honey’ would make it less awkward, but I guess it only made things worse."

‘It already has been awkward from the start.’

Se-hyeon considered saying something but decided against it.

"Wouldn't it be better to stay professional? Someone else might see us later, so I thought it was best to call you ‘sir’ just in case."

"Is that so?"

Shin Tae-oh nodded thoughtfully, seeming to agree with the reasoning. Without further comment, he entered the elevator, and Se-hyeon followed.

As they ascended to the highest floor, Se-hyeon gazed out through the transparent wall. The city stretched out before him—a decent view to pass the time.

"Here.”

As Se-hyeon heard Shin Tae-oh's voice, he instinctively turned his head. Shin Tae-oh was pointing at something—the logo of the hotel. Daeil. It was the name of the largest company in the country, a world-renowned conglomerate.

"When I was young, the president and I used to come to this hotel often," Shin Tae-oh said, his gaze fixed on the familiar emblem. "Back then, I’d always see couples holding hands in the elevator, going up and down so happily. Watching them smile at each other without saying a word made me think this hotel was built just for people in love."

Se-hyeon remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Fortunately, Shin Tae-oh didn’t seem to expect an answer.

"But now that I’m older," he continued, "I know better. It’s not just lovers or married couples who come here. People visit for business, or sometimes just for a one-night stand. But still, at its core... it's still a hotel for couples, just with a different meaning behind it."

‘So that’s why he hasn’t been to a hotel in a long time,’ Se-hyeon thought.

Shin Tae-oh suddenly smiled and added, "Do you know why I came here today? It’s because I'm going to have a good time with Jin-ha."

As if perfectly timed, the elevator chimed and came to a stop. With that same confident smile, Shin Tae-oh stepped off, quickly checking the hallway signs before walking off in the direction of his room. Soon, he disappeared from sight.

Se-hyeon remained standing inside, pressing the open button absently, staring at the empty space where Shin Tae-oh had just been.

"...He's funny," Se-hyeon murmured under his breath.

Despite everything, the perverted Taenyangi still had a strangely pure heart.

–
Upon entering the suite, Se-hyeon closed the door behind him and took in the view. The spacious, elegantly designed interior welcomed him with its sophisticated charm. As he wandered through the space, inspecting every corner to familiarize himself with the layout, there was little admiration in his eyes.

‘As expected, it’s similar.’

Shin Tae-oh’s house was like this—perhaps even better. In fact, his home, adorned with carefully curated artworks and miniature building models he crafted as a hobby, was far more aesthetically pleasing. The suite, in comparison, lacked that personal touch. Maybe that was why Se-hyeon found himself surveying the room with an unexpectedly relaxed mindset. However, there was one noticeable difference.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah..."

Shin Tae-oh stood by the glass wall, holding a remote control and pressing a button repeatedly. The glass would darken, then turn transparent again with each press.

"Should I install this at home too?"

"I'll look into it," Se-hyeon replied, instinctively taking out his phone to make a note. He knew well that any question from Shin Tae-oh was, in fact, an order. His house was already better than any hotel, but adding a few more features wouldn't hurt.

"The wine cellar is too small," Shin Tae-oh remarked casually.

‘Can it even compare to your house, which has an entire wine cellar in the basement?’ Se-hyeon thought but kept his mouth shut.

"Secretary Ahn, come here."

Turning at the sound of his name, Se-hyeon found Shin Tae-oh—now without his suit jacket—holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"What are you doing now?" Se-hyeon asked warily.

"Just getting a taste," Shin Tae-oh replied nonchalantly.

It would have been fine if Shin Tae-oh intended to drink alone, but two glasses were clearly set.

"Secretary Ahn, you don't have to drink. It's just for the aesthetic," Shin Tae-oh said. "I'm trying to imagine drinking it with Jin-ha."

Se-hyeon couldn’t help but admire the man's dedication to his delusions. Shin Tae-oh had even gone so far as to prepare wine in advance for a hypothetical date with Yoo Jin-ha. Reluctantly, Se-hyeon sat down across from him—not because he particularly wanted the wine, of course, but out of sheer professional obligation.

"All right," Se-hyeon said, picking up the glass.

Satisfied, Shin Tae-oh poured the wine into both glasses and swirled his drink thoughtfully. Se-hyeon followed suit, swirling the deep red liquid before taking a sip.

"It's a bit heavy for setting the mood. A lighter wine would work better," he commented.

"Uh... okay," Shin Tae-oh agreed, promptly fetching another bottle.

As Se-hyeon took a sip, he hummed lightly. The wine Shin Tae-oh selected was exquisite, as expected from someone with such a refined palate. It would taste good no matter what it was paired with, but choosing one to match the atmosphere was important.

Still, a sense of pity lingered in Se-hyeon's mind.

‘It’s not going to work out anyway, but at least he’s making an effort. Even if things don’t progress, they can make good memories today.’

Despite knowing Yoo Jin-ha’s heart belonged solely to Ha Min-hyuk, Se-hyeon allowed himself to indulge in the tasting. The mild intoxication slowly crept in, and he glanced sideways at Shin Tae-oh.

Feeling the heat rise within him, Se-hyeon loosened his collar slightly. He hadn’t consumed much, given his low tolerance, and usually, he was careful to drink in moderation. However, his body wasn't in the best condition today, and dizziness started to set in.

Realizing he couldn't drink anymore, Se-hyeon set his glass down. Shin Tae-oh looked at him with a questioning gaze, silently asking why he'd stopped.

Se-hyeon opened his mouth to explain but decided it was better to divert attention.

“I…”

Se-hyeon couldn't help but laugh as Shin Tae-oh's gaze remained fixed on his face. ‘He’s looking at me like that because he knows what I’m thinking.’ As a secretary, he shouldn’t smile, but despite himself, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Secretary Ahn is smiling." Shin Tae-oh remarked.

Se-hyeon remained silent, feigning ignorance. He hadn't expected Shin Tae-oh to catch such a fleeting expression.

"No," he replied calmly.

"I think you smiled," Shin Tae-oh insisted.

Se-hyeon quickly interjected before the conversation could draw attention to his moment of weakness.

"If you don't mind, may I ask you something?"

"To me?"

"Can I not?"

"No, you can." Shin Tae-oh waved his hand, looking slightly taken aback.

"You always act like you know me so well that I didn't expect you to ask questions. I'm not saying you shouldn’t—I'm just surprised."

Se-hyeon couldn’t help but think, ‘Of course, I act like I know you... because I do. I've read all about you in the novel.’

"Then, let me ask you two questions," Se-hyeon said after a brief pause.

"Two at once? Alright," Shin Tae-oh replied with interest.

"Why do you mix formal and informal speech?"

It was something Se-hyeon had always been curious about during the three years he'd spent following Shin Tae-oh as his assistant. The novel didn’t provide any insight into how he treated his secretary or his reasons behind it. At times, it seemed like Shin Tae-oh followed his own arbitrary rules, but Se-hyeon couldn’t understand the criteria.

"It depends on my mood," Shin Tae-oh answered.

"If you're in a good mood, you speak informally?"

"That's not what I mean," Shin Tae-oh said, pouring another glass of wine.

Their gazes briefly intersected—Shin Tae-oh’s eyes fixed on the wine glass, while Se-hyeon's focused on his hand. The only delicate feature amidst his otherwise rugged appearance. His long, elegant fingers contrasted sharply with his strong, masculine frame.

"If I feel close to someone, I speak informally. If not, I remain respectful," Shin Tae-oh explained.

"Is that so?" Se-hyeon murmured.

He wasn't sure when Shin Tae-oh had started feeling close to him, but he decided not to press the matter. Now that he had an answer, the curiosity faded.

"This is fun," Shin Tae-oh said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Ask your next question."

Se-hyeon hesitated for a moment, unsure whether it was appropriate to ask, but encouraged by Shin Tae-oh’s amused expression, he decided to go ahead.

"If you say that a hotel is a place… where lovers would come…" Se-hyeon trailed off, unexpectedly stumbling over his words.

"Then that means you would only hold hands with the one you love…?"

Shin Tae-oh smirked knowingly at the question's underlying implication. (note: what se-hyeon means by "holding hands" is to fuck)

"I was wondering what kind of question you'd ask. I don’t do one-night stands," he answered easily.

Se-hyeon pressed his lips together, choosing to remain silent. There was no need to probe further. It had been a passing thought—one that surfaced because of something Shin Tae-oh had mentioned earlier in the elevator.

‘Is it because he's truly interested in Jin-ha? Or is he just a romantic at heart..’

It was a presumptuous question, and Se-hyeon found himself debating whether to brush it off and tell Shin Tae-oh to forget it or simply accept the answer and apologize.

Chapter Text

Shin Tae-oh's response came faster than Se-hyeon’s curiosity.

"I don't do one-night stands."

Se-hyeon blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Seriously? He had assumed Shin Tae-oh was a pervert when he suggested a hotel, but he hadn't expected such a straightforward and surprisingly earnest reasoning behind it.

"If someone says it's okay, I'd want to hold them and sleep," Shin Tae-oh continued, his voice steady. "But I don't really understand the usual order of things. I can't imagine it. If someone is good for me, I want to consider whether we could have a future together."

‘Was Shin Tae-oh always like this?’ Se-hyeon wondered, his curiosity deepening.

"I think about looking into each other's eyes, talking, sharing a meal, and then falling asleep together," Shin Tae-oh added thoughtfully. "One-night stands don't offer that kind of experience."

Se-hyeon mulled over the words. ‘Well, you can think of it that way.’

"Considering the emptiness you'll feel the next morning, it's better not to do it at all," Shin Tae-oh concluded, swirling the wine in his glass.

His perspective was different from most, but since it was Shin Tae-oh’s own standard, it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible. Se-hyeon found himself wondering—did he send that gift to Yoo Jin-ha for the same reason?

If the gift had been sent in hopes of imagining Jin-ha wearing the gloves he picked out or enjoying a cake together, then perhaps all the events that had unfolded so far made sense.

‘I thought it was just a ploy, but things are becoming more and more confusing.’
(note: THIS DAMN TRANSLATION IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE CONFUSING ARHGHG it's so difficult tryna understand it im literally cross-referencing the mtls I found online to understand it…)

In the novel, the story had unfolded quite differently. Shin Tae-oh had harbored feelings for Yoo Jin-ha, sending him gifts as an expression of his interest. When Jin-ha's relationship with Ha Min-hyuk hit a rough patch, Shin Tae-oh had seen it as an opportunity to pursue him more actively. Eventually, toward the end, he had gracefully accepted Yoo Jin-ha and Ha Min-hyuk's love and stepped aside without resistance.

"What were you just thinking?"

At Shin Tae-oh's question, Se-hyeon quickly raised his head, taking a moment to decide what to say before answering.

"I thought you were cool."

"Cool, huh?" Shin Tae-oh repeated, tilting his head slightly.

To be more precise, Se-hyeon had been wondering, ‘Was he really this kind of character?’

A faint sense of guilt crept in—he felt a little sorry for having pitied Shin Tae-oh so much.

‘You were actually a pretty good guy.’

At this point, it felt like Shin Tae-oh was too much of a waste as a supporting character. Normally, it would make sense to relegate someone who seemingly had it all to the background, but wasn't that too harsh in his case? If Se-hyeon had been the author of this novel, he would have picked Shin Tae-oh up and given him a proper love story of his own.

Sure, his attachment to Yoo Jin-ha felt a bit misdirected, but beyond that, it was hard to find any real flaws in him.

‘Since he's that kind of guy, it would have been nice if he'd met someone who truly loved him,’ Se-hyeon thought, unable to shake off a lingering sense of pity.

Pushing aside his musings, Se-hyeon drank his wine without hesitation, unaware of the implications of his thoughts—like unknowingly casting stones while having flaws of his own.

"Then... am I..."

Shin Tae-oh's voice trailed off, his words carrying a weight that shifted the usual atmosphere between them.

"Am I not good enough?"

Se-hyeon froze slightly at the question, caught off guard by the unexpected vulnerability in Shin Tae-oh’s tone.

If Shin Tae-oh was questioning his actions toward Yoo Jin-ha, Se-hyeon could confidently say that he was more than enough.

"Sorry. I don't know what you mean."

Se-hyeon shook his head, feigning ignorance. ‘I don't know anything. I don't think anything of your petty tricks.’ That was the message he tried to convey with his indifferent expression, but he could still feel Shin Tae-oh’s gaze lingering on him in silence.

"I think this is the first time I've heard that I'm cool," Shin Tae-oh finally said.

"Sorry. That was rude of me," Se-hyeon replied, lowering his gaze slightly.

"I'm not saying it was rude. It's a compliment—who doesn't want to hear compliments? It's just... I never thought of myself as cool before."

‘He's surprisingly quick-witted.’

"I’ve always had respect for you," Se-hyeon said, carefully choosing his words. "And it was because of my personal admiration for Shin Tae-oh, not just because you're the CEO."

"CEO? Shin Tae-oh?" Shin Tae-oh repeated, as if weighing the distinction. "Oh, I see."

With a small nod of understanding, he walked around the suite, swirling the wine in his glass before raising an index finger.

"So, Secretary Ahn thinks I'm respectable and cool," he mused.

No. I'm just saying I was surprised you're not just a pervert. I don't respect you that much.

"That's right," Se-hyeon responded instead, keeping his thoughts to himself.

"So that’s how you see me," Shin Tae-oh muttered in amazement, as if discovering something new.

Se-hyeon, seeing no point in clarifying further, simply remained silent. ‘If he wants an answer, he should learn to ask the right questions.’

‘Why is it so cold?’

The temperature in the suite was supposed to be controlled, yet Se-hyeon had been feeling cold for some time, goosebumps rising on his skin as occasional shivers ran through him. Glancing around, his eyes landed on the wine glass in front of him, and he seemed to have found the culprit.

Not long after entering the room and drinking, the cold had crept in. It appeared that alcohol was too much for his already weakened body, which was on the verge of entering heat.

Even though he was a recessive omega, this was precisely why he had always avoided scheduling any engagements on the days surrounding his heat cycle. His physical condition would deteriorate rapidly, and his immunity would weaken. If not managed properly, he could catch a cold or develop inflammation. The best course of action was to allow his body ample rest during this time.

‘The wine smells stronger than I thought.’

The first glass he had tasted seemed quite potent, its lingering scent still faintly present despite the time that had passed. Swallowing a few times, Se-hyeon noticed the reflection of his cell phone in the wine glass and decided to stand up.

"Why are you getting up?" Shin Tae-oh asked, watching him curiously.

"It's time," Se-hyeon responded.

For a moment, Shin Tae-oh looked puzzled until his eyes landed on his phone, which had been flashing with incoming calls. It was set to silent mode, and he had only just noticed the persistent notifications.

Since Se-hyeon had already seen the caller ID, Shin Tae-oh picked up the phone without hesitation.

"You’re here?"

Shin Tae-oh grabbed his outer coat, but before Se-hyeon could follow, he extended a hand, signaling him to stay put. Without a word, Se-hyeon understood and remained still as Shin Tae-oh placed the phone to his ear and walked out of the room.

With the sound of the door clicking shut behind him, Se-hyeon exhaled a relieved sigh and loosened his tie.

‘A warm soak in the shower should help.’

Afterward, he could rest for a while before leaving once Shin Tae-oh returned with Yoo Jin-ha. It was a perfect plan, carefully timed to align with his current physical state and Yoo Jin-ha's expected arrival.

—
Shin Tae-oh, who had come down first and was waiting, was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice someone approaching.

"Huh? It’s Tae-oh."

Yoo Jin-hyeon called out awkwardly, pretending as if their meeting was a coincidence. He squeezed Shin Tae-oh’s shoulder lightly, snapping him out of his daze.

"Yoo Jin-hyeon?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I came for a meeting… he’s here too." Shin Tae-oh smiled, his gaze shifting to Yoo Jin-ha, who had followed behind.

"Hello, sir."

"Are you really calling me ‘sir’ even outside of work?"

"I’m just used to it..." Yoo Jin-ha replied with an awkward smile, trailing off. Shin Tae-oh stood up and gestured for them to take a seat.

"Did you drink alone? You should’ve called me instead," Yoo Jin-hyeon remarked, eyeing the alcohol on the table. In reality, it was all part of a carefully planned script designed to create an atmosphere of concern—one that subtly guided the conversation toward expressing sympathy for Shin Tae-oh's supposed troubles.

"It... just happened," Shin Tae-oh replied, following the cues they had rehearsed.

However, Yoo Jin-ha seemed unconvinced, observing Shin Tae-oh’s expression closely. He felt as if he was being misled, as though Shin Tae-oh was putting on an act.

"What happened?" Yoo Jin-ha asked, his curiosity piqued.

"There’s someone I’m worried about," Shin Tae-oh admitted.

"Someone bothering you?"

"Hyung, what’s going on?"

As Yoo Jin-hyeon tried to figure out the situation, Yoo Jin-ha quietly poured himself a drink from the bartender and then, noticing Shin Tae-oh’s half-empty glass, filled it as well. Everything was unfolding just as Shin Tae-oh had intended.

"I saw him before I came to the bar," Shin Tae-oh muttered, his voice trailing off as if he were speaking more to himself than to them. "He looked exhausted. He’s someone who really needs to rest, and I wondered why I brought him out for no reason..."

"Say it so I can understand," Yoo Jin-hyeon interjected, realizing Shin Tae-oh’s words were drawing Yoo Jin-ha’s attention. He patted Tae-oh's leg subtly, signaling him to take action.

Receiving the cue, Shin Tae-oh glanced at Yoo Jin-ha and said, "I'll go to my room for a moment."

"In your room?"

"Yeah. I left something behind."

Without waiting for an answer, Shin Tae-oh stood up and walked away briskly. Yoo Jin-hyeon sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead, already suspecting that Shin Tae-oh must have prepared a gift for his younger brother. For now, he needed to ease the mood.

"Let Tae-oh be. How have you been these days?" Yoo Jin-hyeon asked, smoothly shifting the conversation.

"It’s the same routine every day. What more can an office worker do?" Yoo Jin-ha replied, sipping his drink.

"I’m asking because your expression says otherwise," Yoo Jin-hyeon said knowingly, gently probing into Yoo Jin-ha's loneliness. After all, he was firmly on Shin Tae-oh's side.

—

Even after pressing the elevator's close button, Shin Tae-oh's eyes revealed a flicker of nervousness as he watched the machine ascend at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Secretary Ahn seemed... different today."

He was usually composed, even when drinking, but something was off. When Shin Tae-oh had left the room earlier, the air inside had been stifling, and Se-hyeon was sweating, his face unnervingly pale.

Se-hyeon always took periodic breaks and visited his parents regularly. Perhaps seeing them was his way of relieving fatigue. The thought weighed heavily on Shin Tae-oh—had he unknowingly burdened someone so diligent?

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, Shin Tae-oh hurried to his room, patting his pockets in search of his key card. It took him a moment to recall that he had left it inside. He had grown accustomed to Se-hyeon handling such details, and now, without him, the oversight was glaring.

He briefly considered calling the hotel staff to retrieve a spare card but noticed something—a small gap kept the door from fully closing. Relief washed over him as he nudged it open with his foot and stepped inside, scanning the dimly lit space for Se-hyeon.

"Secretary Ahn? Where are you?"

Despite the nagging feeling that Se-hyeon had been there just moments ago, he was nowhere to be seen. Could he have left already, assuming Shin Tae-oh would return with Yoo Jin-ha? That didn’t seem likely—Se-hyeon would have surely checked in with him before leaving.

"Did he already go home?"

Shin Tae-oh looked around carefully, straining his ears for any signs of movement. The suite was eerily silent... except for a faint sound.

"Water?"

The distant sound of running water caught his attention, and his brows furrowed in suspicion.

"Secretary Ahn?"

A nagging discomfort settled in his chest as he made his way toward the bathroom. If Se-hyeon was taking a shower, Shin Tae-oh knew he shouldn’t intrude—but the strange unease gnawing at him was impossible to ignore.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Shin Tae-oh hesitated, wondering if Se-hyeon was the type to leave it open like that. Unable to shake the unsettling feeling, he pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

His breath caught at the sight before him.

"What… kind of situation is this?"

Shin Tae-oh muttered, tilting his head in confusion. The scene was so unexpected that it took him a moment to fully process it.

Se-hyeon, fully clothed, was crouched under the steady stream of water, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"Secretary Ahn," Shin Tae-oh said, his voice laced with concern. "Can you explain why you're sitting under the water... like that?"

Chapter Text

No response came from Se-hyeon. The steady rush of water cascading down might have drowned out Shin Tae-oh’s voice—or perhaps Se-hyeon simply didn’t have the strength to respond.

Frowning, Shin Tae-oh reached out and turned the shower head away, and cut off the downpour. Droplets splattered against the tiles, their echoes filling in the silence that followed. Crouching in front of Se-hyeon, Shin Tae-oh leaned in closer, his sharp gaze sweeping over the man before him.

First, his eyes traced the contours of Se-hyeon's face. Beneath the harsh bathroom lights, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted and tinted a deep, red hue. Water clung stubbornly to his dark lashes, collecting into heavy droplets that slipped down his face in slow, trembling paths. For a brief moment, Shin Tae-oh found himself captivated by the glistening moisture pooling in those unfocused eyes, but he shook off the thought. Now wasn't the time.

Then, there was his breathing—ragged and shallow, chest shakily rising and falling with an unsettling irregularity. Even though the water had ceased, Shin Tae-oh could still hear it, each inhale a desperate grasp, each exhale trembling and drawn out. It filled the space between them, filling his ears with an unbearable weight. Or perhaps it wasn’t just the sound; perhaps the sight alone was enough to make Shin Tae-oh imagine it in vivid detail.

And then... there was the air itself.

Thick, cloying, and heavy with a scent sat thick in the air. The invisible tendrils of pheromones wrapped around Shin Tae-oh's senses, clinging to his skin, seeping into his lungs with every breath he took. It had a sweetness that clashed against the sterile bathroom air, an undeniable, intoxicating presence that stirred something primal within him.

"Secretary Ahn... you..."

His words faltered, the weight of the moment pressing down on him, suffocating in its intensity. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing down the sudden heat in his stomach.

"You should come to your senses," Shin Tae-oh murmured, his voice rougher than he intended. "Secretary Ahn, you're... quite provocative right now."

His heart pounded painfully against his ribs—so loud it drowned out every other sound. He didn’t dare to lower his gaze, afraid of losing the control he held back by a thread. Instead, he lifted a hand and covered his eyes, shielding himself from the sight of Se-hyeon’s vulnerable state.

"I won’t ask about... what’s happening," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Just, please—get up."

Whatever was happening to Se-hyeon—this sudden shift from Beta to Omega, the uncontrolled release of pheromones—it could wait. Answers could come later. Right now, Tae-oh needed to pull himself together before things spiraled out of control.

"Ugh... Ah, haa..."

A strangled sound left Se-hyeon’s lips, and it sent a shiver down Shin Tae-oh’s spine.

"Come on, Secretary Ahn," Shin Tae-oh gritted out, reaching forward to shake him gently. "Take a proper breath and get yourself together, damn it."

His grip tightened involuntarily, frustration slipping into his voice. Se-hyeon was trembling beneath his touch, and Shin Tae-oh wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

As Shin Tae-oh tried to lift Se-hyeon, his gaze involuntarily landed on the other man's chest, and he cursed under his breath. The wet shirt clung tightly to Se-hyeon’s body, accentuating the toned definition of his muscles, revealing more than Shin Tae-oh wanted to see. Shaking off his thoughts, he focused back on the situation—Se-hyeon still wasn’t fully conscious.

Without hesitation, Shin Tae-oh redirected the stream of water over Se-hyeon's head, hoping to shock him awake.

Just as he reached for his phone to figure out what to do next, something on the floor caught his eye—a wallet, sprawled open. If it had simply fallen, the contents would have remained neatly tucked inside. But this was different. The cards were sticking out, and the money clip hung loose, as if someone had rifled through it in a hurry.

“Did you get robbed?” Shin Tae-oh muttered, his voice calm despite the open door and the unusual scene before him. Without hesitation, he picked up the wallet and began flipping through it, his fingers skimming over the contents. Normally, he would only catch a fleeting glimpse of it when Se-hyeon pulled out his card, but now, holding it felt oddly intrusive.

The remaining cash was still intact, and given Se-hyeon's semi-dazed state, it didn’t seem like a theft had occurred. Instead, it looked as if Se-hyeon himself had frantically gone through his wallet in his current condition.

Shin Tae-oh’s fingers paused when he discovered something tucked deep into one of the compartments. His brows furrowed in recognition as he carefully pulled it out—a small, familiar bottle of pills.

“Heat suppressants,” he murmured, the weight of realization settling over him.

The air around them grew thick with the tension of unspoken words and overwhelming emotions. Shin Tae-oh’s grip on the suppressant pill was steady as he approached Se-hyeon, his mind racing with questions. The english abbreviation on the package was all he needed to confirm the medicine’s identity—a suppressant.

Despite acting controlled earlier, he had been constantly inhaling the intoxicating omega scent from the start. Heavy arousal started pooling in his gut and tension had built up between his legs.

Shin Tae-oh turned the shower head aside once more, letting the water stream fill up the bathtub. Warm mist curled into the air, clinging to the cool bathroom tiles and enveloping the space in a thick, humid fog. The faint sound of water trickling echoed softly, mixing with the heavy, uneven breaths of the man crouched beneath it.

He waved the pill in front of Se-hyeon’s face, "Do you need to take this?"

Se-hyeon’s eyes flickered, glazed with both exhaustion and desperation. He reached out for the pill, his fingers trembling like leaves in the wind.

"Please... Yes, please."

As Se-hyeon reached out to take the pill, Shin Tae-oh shook his head worriedly.

"How are you going to take it when your hand is trembling like this?" Shin Tae-oh murmured, his voice soft with concern.

It was fortunate that he hadn't dropped the medicine given how much he was shivering. However, Se-hyeon still reached out, indicating that he wanted the suppressant. Seeing that, Shin Tae-oh popped the suppressant pill into his hand and brought it to Se-hyeon's mouth.

"Open your mouth. Gulp it down."

The words were calm, steady, yet the undercurrent of tension in Shin Tae-oh’s chest couldn’t be ignored. Se-hyeon did as he was told, opening his mouth, though it was unclear if he was able to swallow it or not. The motion of Se-hyeon’s Adam’s apple bobbing was all Shin Tae-oh could focus on—almost hypnotic in its subtlety.

“Cough—”

He choked, one of the pills slipped from his mouth, clattering onto the bathroom floor. Shin Tae-oh rushed to grab the water bottle on the sink. He poured water carefully into Se-hyeon’s mouth, the liquid washing over him like a moment of respite.

"Swallow again." Shin Tae-oh’s voice was almost a command now, firm, cutting through the haze of uncertainty.

As Se-hyeon gulped the water down, Shin Tae-oh could see the pill was finally swallowed, but the dropped one still escaped him. His eyes scanned the bathroom floor, but it wasn’t there.

"Just one pill... should be enough."

The words were almost an afterthought as he leaned in, checking Se-hyeon’s face with concern. But his hands shook too, just slightly, as his gaze shifted to the water that was now running over his own skin. He turned the stream of water onto himself. If Se-hyeon were conscious, he might have asked why. But Se-hyeon wasn’t in the right mind to ask anything.

"Haah."

The sound escaped him unbidden, his body trembling in response to the overpowering, intoxicating scent of Se-hyeon’s heat pheromones. It had been overwhelming him for so long—ever since Se-hyeon entered the room.

Shin Tae-oh clenched his teeth so hard it felt like his jaw might crack. His muscles were tight with restraint, but there was something dark rising within him, something that demanded release.

"All of these pheromones… Have you been hiding it this whole time?"

Despite having smelled countless omegan pheromones before, they couldn’t compare to this. He had tried to calm himself by pouring the cold water over himself as he felt deep inside him the dizzying pheromones. However, his arousal only grew stronger with time.

“I guess it’s not going to work.”

Shin Tae-oh stood up abruptly, turned off the water, and picked him up. He was still breathing heavily, pressing his forehead against his neck. Shin Tae-oh swallowed hard as his nose only served to increase the intoxicating scent.

With his eyes fixated only on the bed, neither the stunning night view and luxurious interior of the suite could distract him. The distance was crossed immediately and Shin Tae-oh set Se-hyeon down on the bed, pinning him beneath his arms.

Under the soft ambience of the skyglow, Se-hyeon’s figure emerged like a work of art, his silhouette kissed by the luminescence. The disheveled strands of black hair sprawled across the pristine white sheets, a striking contrast of ink against snow. The dark suit pants, rumpled and carelessly draped, added depth to the monochrome tableau—shadows and light intertwined in a delicate, fleeting harmony.

“Ha…” Shin Tae-oh let out a sly grin, “I guess I was wrong to say you never show any expressions.”

His gaze rested on Se-hyeon’s face. He had his lips parted slightly, his breath caressed Tae-oh’s skin. His eyes lingered, heavy with unspoken desire, tracing every detail with a slow, deliberate intensity.

"I... Haa... Ah," Se-hyeon gasped out.

"Do you want me to help?"

Shin Tae-oh leaned closer, their faces a mere inches apart.

"Are the suppressants not working? Do you need an alpha?"

Shin Tae-oh gently grasped Se-hyeon's chin, tilting his face to meet his gaze.

"Do you need me?"

"...Yes."

Was Se-hyeon even clear-headed enough to follow his words? Hearing that Se-hyeon needed him, Shin Tae-oh lowered his head even more towards him.

The response came soft and breathless, leaving Shin Tae-oh wondering if Se-hyeon was even fully aware of his own words. But hearing that one syllable was enough. A slow, unreadable expression crossed his face as he leaned in closer, closing the space between them.

"I don't do one-night stands you know…"

One-night stands had never been Shin Tae-oh's thing. They didn’t suit him, and he had never once entertained the thought. But now, with just a single look from Ahn Se-hyeon, he felt the walls of his carefully built principles start to crumble.

“What if I say that I’m only helping you with this?”

‘Wouldn’t it be okay?’

As his dilemma slowly leaned toward surrender, Se-hyeon’s lips trembled, parted ever so slightly—an unspoken plea that threatened to undo him completely.

"Water..."

"Water?"

Shin Tae-oh blinked in confusion, leaning in to catch the faint whisper. Before he could react, a desperate hand grasped at his collar, pulling him in closer—so close that Se-hyeon's ragged breaths brushed against his ear. His voice, strained yet resolute, broke through the haze.

"Put me back in the shower! Ugh… Haa."

But the urgency faded as quickly as it had come, and Se-hyeon’s trembling fingers slipped away. His breath hitched unevenly, body shuddering with exhaustion.

"If you keep drenching yourself in cold water like that, you'll end up catching a cold. Are you really trying to fight off your heat by getting sick?"

Shin Tae-oh pulled off his tie as if it couldn't be helped. Now, even he had reached his limit.

"I really don't do one-night stands..."
—
“Heuk—”

Se-hyeon jolted upright, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as he gasped for breath. His disoriented gaze swept across the familiar suite room, fingers threading shakily through his hair in an attempt to collect his scattered thoughts.

“How…”

The realization hit him like a ton of bus—his heat cycle had come before he could take the suppressant, leaving him powerless against it. His hand throbbed faintly, and when he glanced down, his eyes caught on the thin plastic line trailing up to an IV drip.

“When did this…?”

“Ah, You’re awake.”

The unexpected voice made him startle, whipping his head toward its source. There came Shin Tae-oh, dressed casually in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, casually towel-drying his damp hair as he settled onto the edge of the bed.

“What happened?”

“You went into heat and I found you trying to cool yourself down with cold water,” Shin Tae-oh replied matter-of-factly. “I tried giving you the suppressant I found in your wallet, but it didn’t seem to work that well…”

As his voice trailed off, Se-hyeon swallowed hard. His throat felt dry, and an unsettling thought crept into his mind. He was painfully aware of the alternative ways to manage a heat cycle—ways that involved an Alpha. He had never crossed that line before, nor did he intend to. But in the haze of his heat, could he be certain nothing had happened?

He barely had time to assess his condition before Shin Tae-oh had barged in out of nowhere.

“Hmm… How should I put this?”

Shin Tae-oh’s deliberate pause felt almost like a taunt, each second stretching unbearably.

“Nothing happened,” he finally said with a small smirk. “You just received some first aid and have been out cold for two days.”

“Two… days?”

Before Se-hyeon could fully grasp the weight of those words, Shin Tae-oh stood up, his easy grin still in place.

“I’m heading to work. Get some more rest.”

With that, he turned and left, disappearing through the door as if in a hurry. Se-hyeon sat there, dazed. Two whole days? Did that mean Shin Tae-oh had extended the suite? And what about Yoo Jin-ha?

“What on earth…?”

A wave of relief washed over him—it seemed nothing had happened after all. Yet something felt off. Shin Tae-oh’s demeanor was too nonchalant, too accepting. And then it hit him.

“Shin Tae-oh never knew my trait.”

Yet earlier, he had mentioned his heat so naturally, as if he had known all along. There had been no shock, no questions. And the way he left—almost as if he were escaping.

“Ugh, I feel so uncomfortable.”

With a deep sigh, Se-hyeon pushed the blanket aside and slowly stood up. His muscles protested, stiff and aching from lying down for so long.

“At least nothing else hurts,” he murmured to himself, pressing a hand against his lower back.

Chapter Text

Driving to the office alone, Shin Tae-oh made his way straight to his desk. The head of the secretary’s office, standing in for Se-hyeon, greeted him with a composed demeanor, tablet in hand.

"I’ll brief you on today’s schedule," he said, his voice steady despite the evident tension in the air.

Though his gaze flickered between the tablet and Tae-oh’s visibly troubled expression, his professionalism never wavered. Years of experience in the corporate world had trained him well to suppress any curiosity about his superior’s condition. Without pause, he continued the report.

Tae-oh, however, found it difficult to adjust. These tasks were usually handled effortlessly by Se-hyeon, and the unfamiliarity of a different presence left him feeling out of sync. He responded with a curt nod, unwilling to engage more than necessary.

"Just bring the urgent approval documents that need immediate processing. We can postpone the rest."

"Does that include the meeting as well?"

"Yes."

"Understood."

The secretary bowed respectfully and exited the office, leaving Tae-oh alone. Only then did his composed façade falter. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head, pressing his clenched hand against his forehead.

“Shit... This damn headache.”

His body ached from the strain of forcefully suppressing his pheromones, an unfamiliar exhaustion settling deep in his bones. A feverish heat radiated from his forehead down to his fingertips—a sensation he usually endured with ease. But today was different. Today, no matter how much he tried to suppress it, someone kept invading his thoughts.

‘Secretary Ahn…’

Tae-oh murmured the name under his breath.

"...Ahn Se-hyeon."

The sound of it left an unsettling ripple through him. A sigh slipped past his lips, heavier than before. Because the moment he spoke that name, something stirred inside him—something unfamiliar, something dangerous.

“Was I always this pathetic?”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. While Se-hyeon had been struggling with the overwhelming weight of his unexpected heat, Tae-oh found himself helplessly affected by it.

Memories of that night flickered in his mind—the feverish heat of Se-hyeon’s skin, the sound of his shallow breathing, the way his lips parted ever so slightly.

Tae-oh exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

He couldn't afford to be this distracted. And yet, the memory of Se-hyeon clung to him stubbornly, refusing to be ignored.

—
"There's only so much you can endure with cold water… but it’s honestly amazing.”

If the pheromones were this dense during a heat cycle, resisting the temptation to form a bond with an Alpha would be nearly impossible. The primal allure, the instinctual pull—it was suffocating. That was precisely why Shin Tae-oh had no intention of bringing Se-hyeon back to the bathroom again.

He fumbled with the buckle and reached for Se-hyeon’s pants. Even with his eyes closed, Se-hyeon rolled to the side to avoid him and turned his body away.

Shin Tae-oh sighed, “Now’s not the time for that, Secretary Ahn.”

His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt before moving toward Se-hyeon's pants. The warmth radiating from him was dizzying, and Tae-oh swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Just as his hand brushed against the fabric, Se-hyeon stirred. Even with his eyes shut, his instincts were sharper than they seemed. With a shaky breath, he rolled onto his side, putting a deliberate distance between them.

“Just relax. Don’t worry, I won’t go all the way,” Tae-oh leaned down and whispered in his ear. Though, the heat of Se-hyeon’s breath ghosted over his skin, only served to add more to Tae-oh’s own torment.

In the heat of the room, his pheromones caressed around Shin Tae-oh’s skin, as soft as a whisper, torturing Shin Tae-oh with every breath he inhales.

“Ha… it’s way too dense here.”

Despite Tae-oh’s murmurs of complaint, he never stopped breathing it in.

“Hmm I want to take it all off, but if I do, it might be difficult for you to play secretary later for me,” his eyes took in the sight of the outline of Se-hyeon’s swollen cock through his underwear.

The tips of his fingers brushing lightly against it. Se-hyeon squirmed to the side, trying to avoid his hand, but instead he trapped him inside with his legs.

“Eh~? Secretary Ahn moved on his own.”

Shin Tae-oh didn’t intend to press against Se-hyeon, but his hand covered it completely, as if it wasn’t his own fault. From now on, he threw away his playfulness.

Tae-oh stroked Se-hyeon’s hard cock, and licked his lips while doing so, enjoying how Se-hyeon twitched under his touch. He then slipped his hand fully into Se-hyeon’s underwear, fully grasping it. When he squeezed harder, Se-hyeon couldn’t help but let out a whimper. He swallowed hard at his hard, smooth skin. If he reacted to Se-hyeon’s pheromones, touching his cock caused a different kind of excitement.

“Sorry, I’ll help you come soon.”

Tae-oh caressed his hand up Se-hyeon’s shaft, teasing his tip between his fingers. As he flicked the nub with his thumb, Se-hyeon tilted his head back and moaned.

“That’s right. Just a little more.”

As Tae-oh deepened his touch, he ensured that Se-hyeon felt every deliberate movement, every lingering caress. His fingers traced patterns over heated skin, coaxing soft, breathless gasps from Se-hyeon’s trembling lips. The tension coiled tighter within him, his body arching instinctively toward the pleasure Tae-oh provided.

Sensing Se-hyeon teetering on the edge, Tae-oh finally released his pheromones—a rich, intoxicating scent that wrapped around them like silk, weaving through the air and sinking deep into Se-hyeon's senses. The effect was instantaneous. A shudder wracked through him, his breath catching as his entire body trembled with the overwhelming rush of sensation.

“Ah— ah!”

With a strangled cry, Se-hyeon gave in, his release spilling in milky ribbons over Tae-oh’s hand, stark against the flushed skin. The tension drained from his body, leaving him pliant and breathless, his chest rising and falling in shallow pants. Tae-oh’s fingers lingered for a moment longer, tracing lazy circles, his gaze fixed on the sight before him—a vision of vulnerability and desire, tangled in his touch.

Until now, it had been only Shin Tae-oh who bore the weight of Se-hyeon's overwhelming pheromones, silently enduring their intoxicating pull. But the moment Tae-oh deliberately released his own Alpha pheromones, the balance shifted in an instant. A trembling moan escaped Se-hyeon's parted lips, his eyes fluttering shut as pleasure rippled through him like a tidal wave.

Tae-oh released his own pheromones, letting them weave through the thick, heady scent that clung to the air—an instinctual attempt to balance the overwhelming presence of Se-hyeon’s Omega pheromones. The room was saturated with the dizzying sweetness of heat, and Tae-oh’s Alpha instincts stirred in response, but he gritted his teeth and pushed back against his arousal.

Just as Tae-oh was about to catch his breath, a sharp knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Without hesitation, he rose from the bed and moved to answer it.

The head secretary, whom he had called earlier to bring Omega suppressants, took an involuntary step back the moment the door swung open. It was his first time seeing Tae-oh in such a disheveled state—his usually impeccable appearance was nowhere to be seen. From head to toe, he was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his clothes clinging to his frame in a mess of damp fabric.

Despite his surprise, the head secretary quickly regained his composure and extended the bag he carried. "The attending physician will arrive within 30 minutes," he reported briskly, though his eyes flickered with curiosity.

Tae-oh accepted the bag with a curt nod. "Thank you."

Without another word, he shut the door and returned to Se-hyeon's side. Tossing the bag onto the bed, he quickly opened it, rummaging through its contents. Inside was a suppressant injection—designed to temper the effects of the heat cycle. It wouldn't be much use if Se-hyeon’s heat had fully taken over, but for now, Tae-oh’s efforts to calm him earlier had bought them precious time.

"Come on, you need to take this," he murmured under his breath, his gaze fixed on Se-hyeon's flushed face.

If the suppressant didn't work... there would be only one other way to bring the heat under control. (note: pls just fuck!!!)

Fortunately, Se-hyeon accepted the injection without resistance, and soon after, his breathing steadied as he drifted into a restless sleep. The thick haze of pheromones that had filled the room gradually eased, leaving the air less stifling. Although the heat cycle wasn’t over yet and would require careful monitoring, they had managed to overcome the worst of it—for now.

"Ha... It's a real relief that I don’t usually indulge in one-night stands."

Tae-oh let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. If he had been the type to seek out fleeting encounters, he might not have had the willpower to resist the temptation pressing down on him now. The lingering scent of Se-hyeon's pheromones still clung stubbornly to the air, stirring something deep within him—something he was desperately trying to suppress.

Before the attending physician arrived, Tae-oh moved with quiet urgency, carefully changing Se-hyeon into clean clothes. His fingers brushed against fevered skin as he worked, the intimate proximity making it difficult to keep his thoughts in check. Once Se-hyeon was settled, Tae-oh remained by his side, watching over him in the dim light of the room.

—
Thinking back, Tae-oh realized just how much he had been swayed—completely—by Se-hyeon’s eyes alone. The way they looked at him, pulling him in deeper than he ever intended. He desired him in ways he couldn’t quite understand.

“I guess I must have really strange tastes, Secretary Ahn.” Tae-oh leaned his head back against the car seat and let out a heavy sigh.

To have his heart race because of him—someone he had respected and admired for so long—not due to his provocative allure, but because of his quiet resilience and unwavering restraint, felt unsettling. And yet, it was a truth he couldn’t ignore.

"...Am I possessed by something?"

The thought slipped from his lips before he could stop it. Tae-oh's muttered words left him with an undeniable sense that his emotions had shifted entirely toward Se-hyeon. If Yoo Jin-ha saw him like this, he would undoubtedly find it pitiful—perhaps even laugh at him. After all, hadn’t he spent so long claiming to like Jin-ha? The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Yet, as Se-hyeon slept, Tae-oh found himself thinking. A lot.

His feelings for Jin-ha had stemmed from small moments, woven together over time. Jin-ha was someone who, on paper, was a perfect match. Marriage had seemed like the logical conclusion.

He had enjoyed picking out gifts, anticipating Jin-ha’s reaction. It pleased his parents, too—proof that he hadn’t entirely given up on their expectations.

He had waited patiently, believing that once Jin-ha broke up with his boyfriend, he would come to him but then....

An unexpected person entered his life.

Someone who quietly accepted everything he said without complaint. Someone who would even go so far as to spread king crab meat for him with patient hands. And somehow, in their presence, he had felt comfortable in a way that unsettled him now.

Doubt gnawed at him. Was what he felt for Jin-ha truly love? Or had it been nothing more than an idea—something convenient, something expected?

Tae-oh had never been the type to hide his feelings. He had always spoken them plainly, which was why confessing to Jin-ha had felt natural.

"I want to be honest about my state of mind."

He realized now that maybe, just maybe, he had mistaken Se-hyeon’s steady presence for something else. Se-hyeon had always been there—listening, observing, understanding. Perhaps it was time to tell him everything, to hear his thoughts.

Se-hyeon was often more composed, more rational than Tae-oh himself. He had a way of objectively assessing situations and cutting through emotions with sharp clarity. Maybe... just maybe, he could help Tae-oh understand what was really happening to him.

—
When Se-hyeon returned home, he couldn’t sit still. He tossed and turned on the bed, rolling around restlessly. Even burying his face tightly into a pillow and kicking his legs into the air did nothing to ease the unease coiling inside him. It was no surprise—this was the first time something like this had ever happened, and the sheer bewilderment of it left him feeling completely adrift.

With a frustrated sigh, he abruptly sat up, running a hand through his hair.

"Why the sudden heat?"

His cycle had always been predictable, unwavering. He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, which only made it harder to understand what had triggered it this time. The realization that the cycle he thought he had under control was slipping through his fingers made his chest tighten with anxiety.

“This shouldn't be happening… When did things go wrong?"

He retraced his steps in his mind, desperately trying to pinpoint what was different this time. They had gone to the hotel, had some wine, and then...

"Ugh. It's all just a mess."

Se-hyeon groaned, pressing his palms against his face. All this time, he had been working tirelessly, living as though he were a beta—adjusting to Tae-oh’s preferences, believing that he had found a rhythm, a sense of stability. But now, everything had crumbled beneath him.

"I kept holding onto the hope that things could work out with Jin-ha... but Shin Tae-oh left him behind that day."

It’s clear that Jin-ha would misunderstand.

"I don't want to go to work."

He was scared of what Shin Tae-oh might say.

.

.

.

.

"I think I've fallen for you, Ahn Se-hyeon. What do you think?"

What the fuck?

Chapter Text

‘I thought I was going to get fired, but this is bullshit.’

When did Shin Tae-oh start calling Yoo Jin-ha by Se-hyeon’s name and, on top of that, suddenly say, "I might have a crush on you?"

Se-hyeon held back the curse words that were about to come out.

It wasn’t like Shin Tae-oh was the type of person to hide things. He wasn’t the type to concoct weird schemes or play games, and Se-hyeon knew that Tae-oh was more comfortable with him as his secretary. But this... this wasn’t what he expected

"I don’t think I understand what you mean."

No matter what was swirling in his head, Se-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to speak his mind to the president.

“No, I don’t really understand it either,” Tae-oh admitted, his voice softening as he continued, “But I think I’ve fallen for Secretary Ahn’s... charm.”

‘…Fallen for what?’

Shin Tae-oh’s voice went quiet in the middle of his sentence and Se-hyeon couldn’t hear properly. He didn’t even remember what happened that night, so he didn’t bother asking why Tae-oh had suddenly developed feelings for him.

“Sorry if I offended you by saying this.”

"Well...,"

Se-hyeon’s mind was racing. It could definitely be seen as a confession, and a workplace one at that. But strangely, he didn’t find it unpleasant. Maybe because Tae-oh had truly helped him, easing the chaos of his heat cycle.

‘Besides, he’s not a bad person’

After all, Se-hyeon knew Shin Tae-oh better than anyone. He was a man who had feelings for Jin-ha but had stepped aside for his happiness, a good, kind man. As Se-hyeon served him in his role as a secretary, he’d come to realize that Tae-oh wasn’t someone with dark intentions.

"I didn't say that with ill intentions; I just expressed what I felt."

‘Ha… is he really not dark-hearted?’

But at the end of the day, there was no reason to drag this conversation out any longer.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the only response Se-hyeon could offer. He had wanted to serve Tae-oh as CEO for a long time, and to do that, it was best to avoid emotional exchanges altogether. He thought he could make Tae-oh stop by hiding his traits, but it seemed that Tae-oh couldn’t accept it anyway.

"It's okay."

Shin Tae-oh's response was actually kinder than Se-hyeon had expected. There was no hint of disappointment or regret in his tone.

'What is he thinking?'

"Honestly, if it were me, I wouldn’t react like Secretary Ahn. No, I might even go further. Even if you curse at me, saying I'm crazy, I'll endure it."

Tae-oh spoke so casually, belittling himself, and it left Se-hyeon feeling bewildered.

In an attempt to conceal his wavering emotions, Se-hyeon gripped his tablet tightly. His hand, restless and clearly visible to Tae-oh, bothered him.

Usually, Se-hyeon could read Tae-oh’s thoughts so easily that there was no need to manage his own expressions, but this time, it was the opposite. He felt exposed, uncomfortable—his inner self laid bare.

"I know it doesn’t make sense to talk so seriously about Yoo Jin-ha, then suddenly shift my interest to Secretary Ahn overnight."

‘Obviously it doesn’t make sense.’

"So, for now, I'm going to keep doing what I’ve been doing so far."

For the first time, Se-hyeon couldn’t figure out what Tae-oh was thinking.

"If I continue to live my life as usual... and you still say you like being Secretary Ahn, will you reconsider my confession?"

“...”

What he had just said wasn’t really a confession, was it? It clearly wasn’t, so why did it feel like one?

“With that in mind, should I give this to Jin-ha?”

Se-hyeon averted his gaze from the item in his hand at Shin Tae-oh’s lightened voice. It wouldn’t have been strange to give it to Yoo Jin-ha, since he always intended to gift him nice, thoughtful things, but...

"Are you referring to the coffee or the mug?"

"Both."

Tae-oh’s answer was ambiguous, leaving Se-hyeon uncertain.

"I understand. I’ll send it as a gift, in addition to the coffee machine and the new mug set."

Even after finishing his words, Se-hyeon didn’t turn away yet.

"Do you have something else to say?"

"I apologize for not clarifying my trait in advance."

It was an apology for deceiving him.

"If you say you deceived me by not saying something, then I also haven’t mentioned anything about my own trait... Is that enough?" Shin Tae-oh smiled kindly.

Se-hyeon didn’t ask, because he already knew that Shin Tae-oh was an Alpha from the novel. But did it work that way?

"Anything else?"

"Nothing."

—
Se-hyeon handed Yoo Jin-ha the coffee machine and mug set, and the bewildered expression on his face bothered him more than he expected.

Yoo Jin-ha had mentioned feeling unwell that day and had to take his monthly leave, so Se-hyeon had contacted him beforehand, asking if he could visit. Unlike his own heats, which Se-hyeon had grown accustomed to, Yoo Jin-ha’s complexion looked truly sick, as though he were genuinely unwell.

"Did hyung, I mean, the CEO give you this too?"

"Yes."

"Did he happen to mention why?"

"The reason? Ah..."

Normally, Shin Tae-oh would buy and give things for reasons that never quite made sense, but today, there didn’t seem to be any particular reason. It had to be something related to their earlier conversation, but that was something Se-hyeon couldn’t tell Yoo Jin-ha.

“There wasn’t any other comment.”

It felt strange to give such an unreasonable reason anyway, so it was better to say nothing. Besides, even if it wasn’t for that, Yoo Jin-ha had no reason to accept the gift, and Se-hyeon expected him to refuse without saying much.

And if Jin-ha refuses, I’ll need to refund it.’ Se-hyeon had even kept the receipt, just in case. He couldn’t quite shake the unease at the thought of Yoo Jin-ha rejecting the gift, especially since he didn’t understand everything that had been going on.

"Are you refusing?" Se-hyeon asked, almost hesitantly.

Yoo Jin-ha glanced at the coffee machine briefly before reaching out his hand. It was strange. Usually, his hand would retreat in refusal, but this time it moved forward.

"I will accept it."

"Okay."

This was a first.

"Please convey my thanks."

"I understand."

Se-hyeon, now holding his empty hands, felt the absence of the gift and instinctively clasped his hands to his body. He offered a slight bow to Yoo Jin-ha before turning to leave.

As he walked away, Se-hyeon tried not to let the overwhelming sense of uncertainty show on his face. So much had happened unexpectedly, and his thoughts were scattered, but he had learned to mask it all. It was the result of his hardest effort since arriving in this world.

Pretending not to notice the gaze that lingered on his back, Se-hyeon continued walking forward.

(note: ewww… i hope jin-ha doesnt become a bitch who only wants tae-oh’s attention to feed his ego.. I’ve also been reading the novel along side editing it so i have no idea whats going on)

—
"Secretary Ahn!"

Se-hyeon halted mid-step, his eyes narrowing at the familiar black sedan pulling up beside him. The sleek vehicle belonged to none other than the chief secretary, Lee Jin-ho. For a fleeting moment, Se-hyeon rifled through his memory—had he forgotten about an outside meeting today?

The car door swung open, and Lee Jin-ho stepped out with his usual composed demeanor, but there was a rare hint of warmth in his eyes.

"Hello, sir," Se-hyeon greeted, instinctively straightening his posture.

"I've been swamped lately and haven’t had the chance to greet you properly," Jin-ho said, adjusting his cufflinks.

The simple gesture of him stepping out to say hello meant one thing—Shin Tae-oh wasn’t inside the car. Relief washed over Se-hyeon, and his shoulders loosened slightly. He offered a polite smile in return.

"I don’t mind. If anything, I should be the one taking some of the workload off your hands. You've been working hard while I was away, haven't you?" Se-hyeon said, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. He knew that whenever he took a rare day off, it was Jin-ho who kept things running smoothly in his absence.

"That's the least I can do," Jin-ho replied with an easy smile. "After all, you're the only one who can handle this job, Se-hyeon-ssi."

The informal address caught Se-hyeon off guard. The chief secretary rarely called him by name, and hearing it now had an oddly disarming effect. It reminded him of how their friendship had formed quietly over time, slipping in unnoticed until it became something natural.

When Se-hyeon first stepped into the role of Shin Tae-oh’s secretary, Lee Jin-ho was nothing more than a side character—just another figure from the novel who carried out Tae-oh's orders with clinical efficiency. In the book, he never had a personality worth mentioning, but reality painted an entirely different picture.

In truth, Jin-ho was a kind and dependable person, always looking out for those around him in subtle ways.

Se-hyeon found himself liking the man—genuinely. He mentally ranked him as the fourth person on his very short list of people he considered likable.

"If someone else heard what you just said, they might feel hurt, you know?"

"On the contrary, they might understand. After all, you're the busiest among us."

"If you put it that way, then I suppose I should be grateful."

"In that case, I'll let you leave early."

Se-hyeon instinctively glanced at his wristwatch. It wasn't even five o'clock yet, and he was already being sent off?

"...If you drive the president home, that is."

Yoo Jin-ho dangled the car keys in front of him, a teasing smile on his face. With a resigned sigh, Se-hyeon accepted them, his expression saying, ‘Very well, you win.’

"For some reason, I thought you looked really happy to see me," Se-hyeon remarked, eyebrows raised.

"It's always nice to see you," Jin-ho replied smoothly. "Besides, you're the only one who can manage the boss's mood."

"Mood? Is he in a bad one now?"

"Hmm... You should see for yourself rather than hearing it from me."

Following Jin-ho’s gaze, Se-hyeon turned toward the entrance just in time to see Shin Tae-oh step outside. His face, void of any particular expression, betrayed nothing—but Se-hyeon had been around him long enough to detect the subtle tension beneath the surface.

"I’ve got things to do, so I’ll head inside."

Jin-ho gave Se-hyeon a light tap on the arm before disappearing into the building, leaving him standing there, keys in hand, feeling the weight of the impending awkward encounter.

"Why is Secretary Ahn standing here?"

"I'll drive you," Se-hyeon replied, efficiently opening the backseat door.

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze flicked briefly to Jin-ho’s retreating figure before he muttered, "Passing off his duties onto someone else... Maybe he’s not fit to be the chief secretary after all."

Ignoring the remark, Se-hyeon smoothly shifted topics. "Sir, I delivered the gift to Yoo Jin-ha."

For a moment, Shin Tae-oh simply stared at him. Then, with a neutral expression, he asked, "Really... he accepted it?"

Se-hyeon blinked. That reaction was unexpected. Wasn't this supposed to be good news? Yet, there it was—an unmistakable hint of disappointment in Tae-oh’s eyes.

"That's right. I just came back from his house."

"You didn’t have to go all the way there."

"He seemed to like it."

"Oh... I see. He accepted it," Tae-oh murmured, nodding absently. His face remained unreadable, but there was something distant about his tone.

Then, without warning, his gaze shifted to the car door Se-hyeon was holding open.

"What’s wrong?"

"I feel like I might get motion sickness."

Se-hyeon frowned. "Ah. Should I get you some medicine? Or take you to the hospital?"

Just as he was about to move, Tae-oh shook his head quickly.

"It's fine. Sitting in the front passenger seat usually helps..."

And with that, he slid into the front seat effortlessly, leaving Se-hyeon standing by the open back door, momentarily stunned.

’Excuse you?’ Se-hyeon muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes.

Suddenly claiming motion sickness just to snag the front seat—was that even a real thing? It seemed more like an excuse than an actual need, but what else could he do?

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon should have been able to see him clearly through the rearview mirror—Tae-oh’s usual composed expression, maybe a glimpse of his mood—but with Tae-oh sitting in the passenger seat, things were far more complicated.

The close proximity made Se-hyeon hyper-aware of every movement, every subtle glance. Turning his head fully to look at Tae-oh felt impossible. How would he even recover from the awkwardness if their eyes met?

Instead, he kept his focus forward, occasionally glancing at the side mirror—just enough to check his blind spots without risking an accidental exchange of looks.

"Is it possible to drive with such a limited field of vision?" Tae-oh's voice broke through the silence, dry and sharp, but with a hint of teasing.

"I’m sorry," Se-hyeon replied, tensing at the subtle reprimand.

"It’s fine. Just keep in mind, if there’s an accident, the responsibility will fall on Secretary Ahn."

Who, me? Se-hyeon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he glanced at the road ahead.

"And if I end up in the hospital," Tae-oh added, his tone shifting to something sly, "will you take care of feeding me and nursing me back to health?"

"If it comes to that," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady, "wouldn’t I be in the hospital too?"

Tae-oh let out a soft chuckle, the kind that felt dangerously disarming. "Ah, well, I suppose you would. Shall we share a room? Feed each other, perhaps?"

Se-hyeon nearly choked on air. "...I’ll make sure there are no accidents."

"Good answer," Tae-oh said with a satisfied grin, leaning back in his seat as though the matter was settled.

Feeling the weight of the conversation, Se-hyeon turned his head—just briefly, a wider angle than before—to properly check the surroundings. It was better to endure awkwardness than to risk an accident, especially with someone as unpredictable as Shin Tae-oh beside him.

"Yes, much better," Tae-oh said, his tone lighter now, as though he were genuinely pleased by Se-hyeon’s efforts.

It was frustrating. If Tae-oh had simply told him to focus on driving from the start, they could’ve avoided this strange back-and-forth entirely. Yet, in some inexplicable way, having Tae-oh in the passenger seat—even with his teasing remarks—made the ride feel oddly... comfortable.

"You mentioned that Jin-ha accepted the gift, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

It was the second time Tae-oh asked, as if confirming a detail he couldn't quite believe the first time. When Se-hyeon reported it earlier, Tae-oh had remained impassive, but now, something seemed to click.

‘It's actually a good thing,’ Se-hyeon thought.

Se-hyeon couldn’t help but reflect on the situation. Tae-oh’s feelings for him—something Se-hyeon had tried to dismiss as fleeting—must have been born from Yoo Jin-ha's unresponsive attitude. Se-hyeon had gone out of his way to arrange a perfect evening for Tae-oh and Jin-ha at the hotel, only for it to fizzle out entirely.

For the longest time, Se-hyeon had felt responsible for that failure, but now… Yoo Jin-ha had accepted a gift. That had to mean something.

‘What changed from last time?’

Perhaps it was because Tae-oh hadn’t offered one of his usual nonsensical excuses this time. That alone seemed to make a difference.

Despite his internal musings, Se-hyeon kept quiet. This wasn’t a topic he should weigh in on, especially not now.

"Anyway," Tae-oh said, breaking the silence, "I’ll keep sending gifts. Maybe even ask for a date... That’s how we can get closer. That was the original plan, right?"

Se-hyeon nodded slightly. Yes, that was the original plan. They would both forget whatever fleeting declarations he had made to Se-hyeon in the morning and return to showering affection on Yoo Jin-ha as usual.

‘A role... Is that all this is?’

Se-hyeon’s chest tightened with a pang of guilt. Was this how he truly saw Tae-oh—a character bound by the plot of the original story? Someone whose fate Se-hyeon already knew? It was hard to admit, but yes, he’d always kept himself detached, a bystander watching from the sidelines.

Even if he knew that Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha wouldn’t end up together, Se-hyeon had no intention of interfering. His sole goal was to avoid getting entangled in the passionate chaos of the novel’s romance and to live quietly.

"But there’s no guarantee Jin-ha will accept the gifts next time..." Tae-oh mused aloud, more to himself than to Se-hyeon.

Se-hyeon remained silent. What could he say to that?

"I will do my best," Se-hyeon finally said, defaulting to a safe, neutral response.

Tae-oh smirked faintly, his gaze turning toward the window. "You know, saying 'I’ll do my best' doesn’t guarantee anything. It’s just a strong expression of effort, nothing more."

Se-hyeon’s eyebrows twitched at the unexpected comment. Was Tae-oh criticizing his response?

"But people say it anyway," Se-hyeon replied carefully. "Saying 'I’ll do my best' doesn’t mean you’ll succeed, but it’s the least you can do. You’ll have less regret if things don’t work out"

Tae-oh rested his elbow on the window frame and leaned his head against it, his tone turning contemplative. "Less regrets?"

"It’s not about eliminating regret," Se-hyeon said. "It’s about knowing you tried your hardest. If the outcome isn’t what you hoped for, at least you can say you gave it your all."

Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, as though considering the idea. Then, unexpectedly, his tone softened. "Do you really believe that?"

Se-hyeon hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden shift. After a pause, he nodded.

"Well then," Tae-oh said with a faint smile, "I guess I’ll give it a try, this idea of doing my best."

Se-hyeon didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the road, turning the steering wheel as they reached an intersection. The conversation should have left him relieved, knowing that Tae-oh was committed to pursuing Yoo Jin-ha with renewed determination.

And yet, an inexplicable uneasiness lingered in Se-hyeon’s chest, as if the words “I’ll do my best” carried a weight far beyond their usual meaning.

—
As Se-hyeon approached Tae-oh’s house, he unconsciously relaxed his shoulders. Only then did he realize how tense he had been the entire drive, as if Tae-oh’s presence beside him demanded an unconscious level of awareness.

"Don't go into the parking lot," Tae-oh instructed. "Just stop at the front."

Se-hyeon blinked. "Understood."

Though he followed the order without hesitation, he couldn’t help but wonder why. As he pulled up to the entrance of the upscale apartment complex and shifted into park, his hands instinctively reached for the seatbelt.

Click.

Before he could unbuckle, he heard the door open.

"Boss?"

It was strange. Normally, it was Se-hyeon’s job to step out and open the door for Tae-oh, not the other way around. But Tae-oh was already getting out on his own.

"You should drive home in this car," Tae-oh said nonchalantly.

"...What?" Se-hyeon turned in his seat, startled. "But—"

It wasn’t just any car; this was Tae-oh’s personal vehicle. It felt strange, even burdensome, to take it home.

"In return," Tae-oh continued, as if he had already anticipated the resistance, "come in early tomorrow. Thirty minutes before the usual time."

Se-hyeon hesitated. It wasn’t that arriving early was an issue—he was usually at work before most people anyway. But the entire situation felt oddly deliberate.

Still, there was no room to argue.

"Alright, I understand."

Tae-oh waved a hand in farewell and turned away without looking back. Se-hyeon, still somewhat flustered, forgot the proper etiquette of getting out to send him off. Instead, he simply nodded, gripping the steering wheel as he slowly pulled away from the curb.

As he glanced at the side mirror, he saw Tae-oh walking toward the entrance, his posture as composed as ever.

‘Isn't this strange?’

At first, Se-hyeon had suspected there was another reason behind Tae-oh’s insistence that he take the car home—some hidden favor or obligation attached. But watching him now, walking away without hesitation, it didn’t seem like an act of manipulation.

Still, something about it didn’t sit right.

"Oh well," Se-hyeon muttered to himself, shaking his head.

From the moment he had woken up that morning, he had been preoccupied with how to handle Tae-oh. The day had stretched on far too long, and all he wanted now was to go home, take a shower, and close his eyes—if only for a little while.

Meanwhile, Tae-oh’s steps gradually slowed as he neared the entrance.

He didn’t turn around. Instead, he closed his eyes.

‘One... two... three... four…’

A pause.

‘Should I count one more?’

"Five," he murmured.

With a deliberate pace, he opened his eyes and turned slightly.

From his vantage point, he could see the tail lights of the car as it merged onto the road, disappearing into the night.

Tae-oh gave a small nod of approval.

‘That looked natural.’

His act of feigning indifference—pretending to lose interest in Se-hyeon—had played out convincingly.

Satisfied, Tae-oh reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and made a call.

The line barely rang before the voice on the other end answered.

"...You’ve finally called me?" Jin-hyeon’s tone carried the weight of waiting.

"Where are you?" Tae-oh asked, skipping over pleasantries.

"The studio," Jin-hyeon replied, his voice guarded.

"I’m coming."

Without waiting for a response, Tae-oh ended the call.

—

As Tae-oh stepped into J/H Photography Studio, he barely spared Yoo Jin-hyeon a glance. The photographer was deeply focused on his work, snapping shots with intense precision, and Tae-oh had no interest in disturbing him. Instead, his feet carried him toward a familiar spot—the studio’s bar.

Yoo Jin-hyeon's eccentric habit of mixing work with drinking had its perks. Tae-oh didn’t have to go elsewhere to find solace in a bottle.

He reached for a bottle, swiftly popping the lid off with one hand. No ice, no glass—just the burn of alcohol going straight down his throat. His back rested against the bar counter as he exhaled slowly, savoring the sting.

"You’re gonna end up wasted like that," Jin-hyeon commented, his voice laced with amusement.
"Well, that’s the plan." Tae-oh raised the bottle slightly, as if making a toast. "Cheers to living life to the fullest."
The alcohol burned on the way down, but he welcomed it. Swig after swig, his throat bobbed with each gulp.
Yoo Jin-hyeon, unimpressed, plucked the bottle from Tae-oh’s grasp and took a sip himself. "Alright, spill it. What’s going on?"

"Nothing," Tae-oh muttered.

"Nothing?" Jin-hyeon scoffed, swirling the bottle in his hand. "What happened at the hotel that night?"

Tae-oh tilted his head, his gaze drifting to the ongoing photoshoot. The subject of Jin-hyeon’s latest project—a solitary perfume bottle—sat under the studio lights, exuding an air of quiet elegance.

The sight of it made him smile.

It reminded him of something—or rather, someone.

Ahn Se-hyeon’s scent.

His pheromones were incomparable to any designer fragrance. Tae-oh could still feel the lingering traces of them, clinging to his senses like an intoxicating ghost. Even now, the mere memory made his fingertips tremble.

‘Damn it… Ahn Se-hyeon’s pheromones are really something else.’

A chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it.

Yoo Jin-hyeon frowned. "Why the hell are you laughing to yourself? Have you lost it?"

Tae-oh smirked lazily. He gestured toward the perfume bottle in front of them.

"That perfume is nothing special," he mused. "Se-hyeon’s pheromones are better."

"...What?"

Jin-hyeon gave him a blank stare, as if he had just heard the most absurd thing in the world.

"But you don’t even photograph people," Tae-oh continued. "And yet, you said you’d photograph Se-hyeon."

"I do photograph people," Jin-hyeon corrected with a sly grin.

"Only the ones I want to capture."

Tae-oh stilled. "...And Se-hyeon fits into that category?"

"Exactly." Jin-hyeon’s voice was casual, but his expression was serious. "He’s got the looks, the proportions, the presence. Everything about him makes you want to capture him in a frame. It’s only natural, don’t you think?"

Tae-oh didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he found himself staring at the way Jin-hyeon’s eyes gleamed with certainty.

"You’re acting weird today," Jin-hyeon noted, studying him. "What’s with you?"

“What do you mean?"

"When did you start calling Ahn Se-hyeon by his name so affectionately?" Jin-hyeon’s brow arched. "And more importantly—you still haven’t told me what happened at the hotel that night. You left Jin-ha waiting all night and never explained why."

Tae-oh didn’t answer.

His fingers idly tapped against the bar counter as he murmured under his breath. "Did I ever say I liked... Jin-ha’s pheromones?"

Jin-hyeon’s expression darkened slightly. His usual teasing demeanor faded, replaced by something sharper.

"...Isn’t it normal to be drawn to someone’s pheromones when you like them?" Jin-hyeon asked cautiously. "Se-hyeon, in this case..."

Tae-oh exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"I think I might have gone a little crazy," he muttered. Then, as if suddenly coming to a decision, he turned to Jin-hyeon.

"Hey. Release your pheromones."

Jin-hyeon blinked. "...Excuse me?"

"Just do it," Tae-oh demanded, his voice taut with frustration. "Maybe if I smell yours, I’ll snap out of it. I can’t keep going on like this."

Jin-hyeon recoiled slightly, looking at Tae-oh like he had just asked him to commit a crime.

"...Are you seriously treating my pheromones like foot odor or something?"

Chapter Text

Even if it was meant as a joke, dismissing an alpha’s pheromones so lightly was practically an insult. Yoo Jin-hyeon understood what Tae-oh was trying to say, but that didn’t mean he had to tolerate it.

"If you're going to treat someone else's precious pheromones like they’re nothing, then get out." Jin-hyeon’s voice was laced with irritation. "Get out of my damn studio."

But Tae-oh remained unfazed.

He gripped the bottle in his hand, lifting it as if to take another drink—but instead, he paused. His shoulders sagged, and he leaned weakly against the bar, his weight sinking into the cool surface.

Jin-hyeon’s words barely registered. There was no space left in his mind for anything else. One person. One lingering presence. That was all he could think about.

With a frustrated sigh, Tae-oh closed his eyes. His fingers moved to loosen his tie, tugging it open with a slow, almost restless motion. Tilting his head back, he stretched his neck from side to side, as if trying to shake off the thoughts clinging to him.

"...This is exactly why I don’t do one-night stands," he muttered under his breath.

Jin-hyeon’s head snapped up. "What?" His voice was sharp with disbelief. "Wait. Did you have a one-night stand? Don’t tell me it was that night—"

Tae-oh didn’t answer. He only ran a hand through his hair, his silence stretching between them.

"What the hell happened?" Jin-hyeon pressed, his frustration mounting.

Tae-oh absentmindedly toyed with the bottle, tossing his half-pulled-down tie.

Finally, after a long pause, Tae-oh exhaled. His voice was quieter this time, more measured.

"...We spent the night together."

Jin-hyeon stilled.

"I watched them sleep. I saw him toss and turn. I’ve never seen them like that before. Not during the day.”

That was the problem.

He couldn’t take his eyes off them.

And it wasn’t as if there was nothing between them. There was something there. Something real. But he couldn’t put it into words. Not to Jin-hyeon. He could never tell him that he had touched Se-hyeon to ease his own arousal.

"What? So you're telling me you haven’t gotten a relationship, just a one-night stand?" Yoo Jin-hyeon scoffed, gripping the bottle tighter. "Seriously, if you call it a one-night stand, I will kick you out. Don’t go giving people false hope for no reason."

Frustrated, he took a swig from the bottle himself. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol would help, but at this point, he needed something to take the edge off.

As he mulled over their conversation, a thought struck him. He tilted his head.

"You smelled his pheromones too." His gaze sharpened. "And nothing happened?"

Something didn’t add up.

Narrowing his eyes, Yoo Jin-hyeon studied Tae-oh’s face.

Among all his friends, Tae-oh had always been the hardest to read. He used to act like he was destined to live alone forever—cold, indifferent, untouchable. Then, out of nowhere, he started chasing after Jin-ha, flirting shamelessly, throwing around confessions like it was second nature.

Tae-oh always seemed cunning and calculated, but beneath that, he was surprisingly sentimental. Romantic, even. The kind of guy who’d get caught up in his own emotions.

But Yoo Jin-hyeon knew the truth—having a sincere heart meant nothing if your body didn’t follow.

And yet, Tae-oh had held back.

No matter how strong-willed he was, something about this was different.

Which meant there was more to the person he’d spent that night with.

And that person, most likely…

"...What’s going on between you and Se-hyeon?"

Tae-oh didn’t react, but that was an answer in itself.

"Did you sleep with Se-hyeon?" Yoo Jin-hyeon pressed. "But nothing happened?"

Tae-oh exhaled, ignoring the question entirely. Instead, he muttered, "I was just thinking about my strengths."

Yoo Jin-hyeon blinked. "What?"

"My strengths," Tae-oh repeated. "What they are."

Yoo Jin-hyeon let out a short laugh. "Since when have you ever needed to think about that?"

Tae-oh shrugged. "I’m straightforward."

"Well you should take some damn detours," Yoo Jin-hyeon shot back. "Looking straight ahead all the time is boring—and pretty useless, too."

No way in hell was he going to stroke his friend’s ego.

Tae-oh ignored him.

"I should see how things go over time. Carefully and cautiously."

Yoo Jin-hyeon frowned. "What’s there to be cautious about?"

Tae-oh didn’t answer immediately. His fingers drummed idly against the counter, his gaze distant.

"It’s better this way," he finally said. "Approaching it slowly. One step at a time, no sudden movements. If we go at the right pace, we might be able to align without forcing anything."

Yoo Jin-hyeon stared at him, utterly baffled.

"Okay—what are you even saying? You didn’t tell me what happened, and now you’re coming up with conclusions on your own?"

Tae-oh didn’t respond. Instead, he smoothly changed the subject.

"...Did Jin-ha wait for me that night?"

Yoo Jin-hyeon stilled.

So that’s why he came here.

Arms crossed, he let out a small hum as he recalled that night.

"After you left that place..." Yoo Jin-hyeon began, tilting his head slightly, trying to recall the details. "Jin-ha was a bit flustered at first. Then he just... started drinking."

Tae-oh stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Our whole plan was to accidentally run into you, you know? So after you left, we just sat there for a few hours—drinking, talking… Nothing out of the ordinary."

Yoo Jin-hyeon frowned slightly.

What else happened that night?

"Ah—right. He got a phone call." His voice slowed as the memory clicked into place. "And then he left to meet someone."

Tae-oh didn’t even need to ask.

That someone was probably the same person Jin-ha was always tangled up with—his current, never-ending problem.

"So, nothing special happened," Tae-oh murmured.

Yoo Jin-hyeon scoffed. "Isn’t it always like that when you’re with me?"

Tae-oh didn’t respond. His gaze drifted away, unreadable, and then—without another word—he stood up.

"Leaving?"

"Yeah."

He had already heard everything he needed to. There was no reason to linger.

As he passed by, he pressed his hand heavily against Yoo Jin-hyeon’s shoulder. "I'll come again."

Yoo Jin-hyeon watched as Tae-oh walked toward the exit, frustration simmering beneath his skin.

"You can’t just leave after making people this curious!" he called after him. "You should tell me everything before you go!"

Tae-oh didn’t even glance back.

Yoo Jin-hyeon let out an exasperated sigh.

"Do you want to drive people crazy?" he muttered under his breath.

Then—he paused.

Something Tae-oh had said earlier suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

Wait… Pheromones?

His brows furrowed.

Tae-oh had mentioned Se-hyeon’s pheromones. Said they were better than any perfume.

Which could only mean one thing.

Yoo Jin-hyeon’s eyes widened slightly as the realization hit him.

"He was an omega?"
—

Se-hyeon stepped out of the driver’s seat, adjusting his tie as he caught his reflection in the car window. Waking up early was a hassle, but at least having a car made the commute much more comfortable.

"Secretary Ahn."

Se-hyeon turned at the familiar voice behind him, his posture straightening instinctively. He masked his brief hesitation with a polite, professional smile.

Shin Tae-oh stood there, exuding an odd mixture of ease and impatience—two emotions that shouldn’t have coexisted so seamlessly. His movements were unhurried, but there was an emptiness in them, like his mind was elsewhere.

"There’s been a change in schedule. We’re heading to the SR headquarters."

"Understood, sir."

Se-hyeon moved to open the car door for Tae-oh but hesitated, tilting his head slightly.

Tae-oh caught the pause immediately. "What? Should I sit in the passenger seat again today?"

"That's not it," Se-hyeon answered quickly.

Yesterday’s arrangement had been uncomfortable enough. He wasn’t eager to repeat it.

Tae-oh raised an eyebrow. "Then there’s another reason…"

"No, there isn’t."

Se-hyeon quickly reached for the handle, but before he could open the door, Tae-oh spoke again.

"Do you know the two things that frustrate people the most?"

Se-hyeon blinked at the sudden shift.

"One," Tae-oh continued, "is getting interrupted mid-sentence."

A faint smirk played on his lips—probably recalling how he had pushed Yoo Jin-hyeon to the brink of madness the night before.

"The other," Tae-oh said, taking a step closer, "is looking at someone who clearly has something to say but never actually saying it."

Caught off guard, Se-hyeon hesitated before smoothly replying, "I apologize. I was just going to mention… you’re not wearing a tie."

Their morning schedule had originally been a simple office visit, but now they were heading to the SR headquarters. If nothing else, formality should be maintained.

Tae-oh glanced down at himself, then let out a low chuckle. "Ah. Right. I guess I’m a bit out of it today."

Tae-oh rubbed his throat absently before letting his hand drop. As he adjusted his collar—still missing a tie—Se-hyeon’s gaze flickered toward Tae-oh’s house.

"Just wait a moment. I'll go get it."

"Oh, it's fine."

"It's my fault for not preparing in advance. So if you give me a moment—"

"I’d hate to wait more."

Tae-oh's voice cut through Se-hyeon's words, firm and unwavering. Realistically, the trip up and down wouldn’t take long, but the stubborn glint in Tae-oh’s eyes left no room for argument. If he couldn’t convince Tae-oh to wait, there was only one solution—though he wasn’t sure how well it would be received.

"Then, please wait just a second."

"I said I don’t—" Tae-oh’s words trailed off as his body tensed. His breath caught in his throat when Se-hyeon, without a second thought, reached up and pulled at his own tie.

The silk slipped from around his neck in one smooth motion, and before Tae-oh could fully process what was happening, Se-hyeon was already looping it around his collar.

"If you have to go to the headquarters…" Se-hyeon murmured, his voice steady yet soft as he adjusted the fabric.

Tae-oh didn’t respond. He couldn't.

Se-hyeon's face was close—so close that Tae-oh could see the fine details of his features, every delicate yet sharp contour of his jaw, the way his long lashes framed his eyes— neither too thick nor thin, were gently stretched out, and the edges of his eyes gave a sense of delicacy. His high nose, his lips—slightly parted as he focused on adjusting his own tie—every part of his face was absurdly, frustratingly perfect.

The aroused Ahn Sehyun under the shower, the sleeping Ahn Sehyun with his eyes closed and unguarded, and now this Ahn Sehyun was focusing with his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tied his tie.

Tae-oh had never been one to focus on people’s faces for too long, but right now, he wanted to get closer. Closer than this.

"It’s done…”

Se-hyeon looked up, seemingly satisfied with his work, but froze when he realized just how close their faces had become.

If he tilted his head just a little—just a fraction of an inch—their lips would brush.

"Sir?" Se-hyeon’s voice was barely above a whisper, his breath warm against Tae-oh’s skin.

"Secretary Ahn."

Tae-oh’s lips parted slightly, his expression dazed.

Se-hyeon swallowed, forcing himself to look away, but not before catching the way Tae-oh’s gaze dropped—toward his mouth. He immediately scolded himself.

Before Se-hyeon could react, Tae-oh spoke again.

"Choose one of the two,"

Se-hyeon was taken aback. ‘Choose?’ Surely he wasn’t asking Se-hyeon to close his eyes or kiss him… the atmosphere was becoming dangerous—

"Release your pheromones," Tae-oh said, his voice low and slow, "or hit me. Hard. On the head."

Se-hyeon blinked, taken aback. ‘What?’

Why was this even a choice? And why did both options feel equally absurd?

Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, as if deep in thought. "Though, if you're my secretary, you probably wouldn’t hit me."

Se-hyeon narrowed his eyes. "Why would you assume that?"

"Because you're calm," Tae-oh replied smoothly, watching him closely. "Quiet. I've never seen you act violent. Or even laugh out loud, for that matter." A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "How could you possibly hit me?"

‘…I want to hit you.’

The thought flashed through Se-hyeon’s mind before he could stop it. But professionalism kept him in check. Instead, he stepped back, creating space between them. He didn’t see it—the way Tae-oh’s tongue flicked out briefly over his lower lip.

Se-hyeon averted his gaze.

"I apologize," he said instead, a firm yet polite rejection of whatever game Tae-oh was playing.

Tae-oh hummed, nodding as though he understood.

Se-hyeon exhaled quietly, relieved that his boss at least seemed to respect his response.

Then, just as he let his guard down—

"Well," Tae-oh mused, tilting his head slightly.

Se-hyeon glanced at him, wary.

Tae-oh's lips curved into a lazy, almost teasing smile.

"What about a kiss?"

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon believed in maintaining a delicate boundary between a boss and a secretary. It was an unspoken rule, an invisible line that he knew had to be carefully drawn and redrawn time and time again.

As a secretary, he was inevitably privy to glimpses of his boss's personal life. His role required a level of involvement that blurred the lines more than a typical workplace relationship, but it was his responsibility to keep his own emotions in check. To never cross that line.

And he had done well so far.

Se-hyeon's fingers twitched slightly before his hand moved, swift and decisive—

Towards Tae-ngyangi’s head.

A sharp whoosh cut through the air.

Tae-oh leaned back just in time, dodging the intended hit effortlessly. Se-hyeon’s hand sliced through empty space, and he held his stance for a moment before smoothly pulling it back, his expression carefully composed.

Tae-oh chuckled, amused. As if he had expected it. As if he knew Se-hyeon would never actually let the hit land.

"You really were going to do it, huh?"

Se-hyeon exhaled lightly, ignoring the playful glint in his boss’s eyes. He adjusted his cuff and reached for the car door. "I'll escort you to the main office."

"Alright."

Without further comment, Tae-oh slid into the car. Se-hyeon closed his eyes for a brief second.

It would have been nice if Tae-oh had taken the back seat this time.

But no. Once again, he settled into the passenger seat beside him, completely at ease.

Sehyun let out a silent sigh, closing the driver's side door behind him.

Then—

"Oh, Secretary Ahn."

Se-hyeon turned, and Tae-oh, now leaning slightly out of the rolled-down window, tilted his head with a slow smirk.

"What I just said wasn't directed at Secretary Ahn." His voice was calm, measured—but there was something deliberate about the way he spoke. "It was meant for Ahn Se-hyeon. So make sure to clearly distinguish between work and personal matters."

Se-hyeon stilled.

A subtle tension lingered between them, heavy yet unspoken.

Could he really tell a man who spoke like that to sit in the back seat?

—

This is already a strong scene, but I’ll refine it slightly for smoother flow, deeper intimacy, and more emotional weight. Here’s the revised version:

After entering the main office, Tae-oh headed straight for the elevator without hesitation. No one stopped him. Se-hyeon quietly followed, stepping in beside him and pressing the button for the top floor just before the doors slid shut.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Tae-oh glanced at him, the corner of his lips curling slightly. “Have a cup of coffee.”

“Understood.”

Se-hyeon thought about lingering nearby, just in case, but outwardly, he followed the CEO’s instructions without question.

Just before the doors fully closed, Tae-oh squinted one eye.

“I’ll check.”

It could have been a wink. Or maybe not. The other eye was hidden as the doors shut, leaving Se-hyeon staring at his own reflection in the sleek elevator panel.

Only when the elevator ascended—when Tae-oh was no longer standing beside him—did Se-hyeon feel the tension ease from his shoulders. From the moment he had seen Tae-oh today, not even for a second had he been able to relax.

Work and personal matters.

Tae-oh spoke as if he couldn't distinguish between them, but in truth, he wielded that blurred line to his advantage with ease.

‘I think I might have feelings for Ahn Se-hyeon. What do you think?’

Calling his full name in that sweet, teasing voice—like it was something intimate.

‘No, I don’t know, but it feels like I’m falling for Secretary Ahn’s… charm.’

And when Se-hyeon tried to reject him? Tae-oh acted like it had never happened, resetting the game entirely.

Se-hyeon let out a quiet sigh, watching the elevator numbers climb higher.

His lips barely moved as he murmured, “You’re such a troublesome kitty.”

—
Tae-oh entered the chairman's office without slowing his pace. The moment he spotted the middle-aged woman rising from her seat, he strode toward her and pulled her into a firm embrace.

Jeong Mi-jung, nestled in his arms, chuckled and lightly tapped his shoulder.

"You're too big for this now. It's hard to hold you properly."

"Well, mom, with a big size comes big cuteness, right?"

Tae-oh nuzzled his face against hers in playful defiance, making Jeong Mi-jung laugh despite herself.

"And yet, you don't visit often enough to hear it."

"Should I start coming by more, then?"

"No."

Tae-oh straightened up, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.

"I didn’t mean that," she clarified, guiding him toward the sofa with a gentle push on his shoulder. "Just an occasional visit is fine."

With a dramatic sigh, Tae-oh sank into the seat as if he had no choice.

"My mother really is different from the rest."

"Of course. If I weren’t, how could I have given birth to you?" She smiled knowingly. "Do you know how big you were when you were born?"

As she moved toward the coffee machine, she pressed a few buttons, filling the room with the rich aroma of fresh coffee. A moment later, she returned with two cups and a small plate of snacks. Placing them on the table, she lifted her own cup and took a sip.

"Thank you for giving birth to me," Tae-oh said smoothly, reaching for his coffee.

"Mm. You better be filial. It was no easy task, carrying and delivering you, you know."

"How long are you going to keep bringing that up?"

"Until you get married."

Tae-oh nearly choked on his coffee. He set the cup down carefully and looked at his mother with wary eyes.

"Wait. You didn’t call me here just to tell me to get married, did you? That’s so old-fashioned."

"Aish. I still hate being called old-fashioned." She clicked her tongue, shaking her head.

Tae-oh sighed, already feeling exhausted. "Then why did you call me here?"

"Marriage is your choice. I won’t interfere with that." She leaned back slightly, watching him. "But dating… I wanted to meddle in that a little."

Tae-oh raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t dating and marriage basically the same thing?"

"I haven’t even gotten to the point yet. Don't jump to conclusions and listen."

He gestured for her to continue, lifting his cup again.

"Someone saw you at a hotel."

Tae-oh paused mid-sip. “I only went there once and I’ve already been found out. Was I that noticeable?”

"It’s because they were interested in you," she said, watching his reaction carefully.

"Who?"

"The second daughter of Jin-myeong Group. She wants to date you… and eventually marry you."

Tae-oh hummed as he took another sip of coffee, processing the information.

"Is my brain malfunctioning from the caffeine, or do I really not know who that is?"

Jeong Mi-jung chuckled. "Even without caffeine, you wouldn’t know. Have you ever shown interest in anyone?"

"But isn’t it strange?" he mused. "If she saw me at a hotel, shouldn’t that have killed her interest? I was there with someone— a nice someone."

His mother said nothing, just watching him over the rim of her cup.

"If she overheard our conversation, she would’ve known we were a good match," he added.

"I suppose she’s just relieved you haven’t been seen with anyone serious until now."

Tae-oh narrowed his eyes. "Wait… what exactly do you mean by that?"

Before he could press her further, Jeong Mi-jung smoothly changed the subject.

"Anyway, that daughter likes you."

Tae-oh studied his mother’s expression. "So, if I were to date this second daughter… would that make you happy, Mother?"

"Ah, now I see. You're a little old-fashioned, aren't you?" Tae-oh mused, tilting his head. "Assuming that just because someone is mentioned, it means I should end up with them? That’s quite the assumption."

Jeong Mi-jung arched an eyebrow, but Tae-oh continued before she could respond.

"The Jin-myeong Group reached out to me. They want to discuss business—something beyond a marriage proposal."

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed loudly. She glanced at the screen and let out a small sigh.

"I don’t like it," she muttered. "If you fall in love and decide to marry, fine. But a strategic marriage? That’s just inviting trouble. If things go south later, it’ll be a mess to deal with, and frankly, I don’t have a good enough excuse to turn them down outright."

She turned the phone toward Tae-oh, letting him see the caller ID flashing: Jin-myeong Group.

"So, what I’m saying is… date someone."

Tae-oh’s gaze flicked from the screen to his mother’s face, unreadable.

"Right now."

And just like that, she answered the call, slipping into a smooth, customer-service smile.

"Chairman Jin! Long time no see. Yes, yes, I hope you've been well. Oh, speaking of which…" She shot Tae-oh a knowing glance. "I just had a chat with him, and it turns out—he’s already in a relationship."

As she waved him off dismissively, Tae-oh wordlessly rose from his seat.

—
As calmly as he had entered, Tae-oh stepped out of the office. But the moment his eyes landed on Se-hyeon standing outside, whatever he had been thinking just seconds ago vanished.

No—something did come to mind.

"I just came back from seeing my mother," he said, his gaze briefly flicking to Se-hyeon's collar, remembering Se-hyeon’s tie still carefully fastened to his neck.

"My mother told me to date."

The lingering scent of coffee clung to him, rich and warm—stirring something deep, like a pheromone that worked its way into the senses.

"Right now."

Though he'd had an entire conversation with his mother, this was the only thing replaying in his mind.

Se-hyeon's expression grew more serious—not startled, but analytical, as if carefully dissecting the situation. That composure was so very like him.

"I understand," Se-hyeon finally responded. "I'll contact Yoo Jin-ha-ssi."

‘Right. Yoo Jin-ha. That was the logical next step.’ Yet, Tae-oh’s thoughts had already strayed elsewhere—toward the man standing in front of him.

"But before that..."

Without thinking, Tae-oh reached out, enclosing Se-hyeon's hand—the one holding the phone—within his own.

"We agreed to check out potential date locations for Jin-ha, didn't we?" His voice was steady, but his grip lingered. "Let's go take a look."

And with that, he pulled Se-hyeon forward, unwilling to let go.

"There's a barbecue place nearby," Tae-oh mused, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "The chairs are a bit uncomfortable, but the charred meat there? Absolutely perfect. What do you think?"

Maybe it wasn’t a real date. But at least it was something.

At some point, his hand slipped from Se-hyeon's, the absence immediately noticeable. Tae-oh curled his fingers slightly, opening and closing his hand as if trying to reclaim the lost warmth.

"I need to head to the office first," Se-hyeon said. "But how about lunchtime? I'll bring a change of clothes so we don’t have to worry about lingering smells."

"Oh." Tae-oh blinked, realization dawning with a hint of disappointment. "Right. It’s still morning."

‘Too hasty.’

Shin Tae-oh’s first attempt at a date had been rejected.

As he turned to walk ahead, the weight of rejection sat heavy in his chest. But behind him, the steady sound of Se-hyeon's footsteps followed, and instinctively, Tae-oh’s expression softened.

He wasn’t sure why—but there was a quiet sort of satisfaction in knowing Se-hyeon would always follow him.

"The café we stopped at earlier was nice," Tae-oh said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. "Want to drop by for a moment?"

A small smile tugged at his lips as he walked forward.

Chapter Text

The two stopped by a small café to take a breather, settling at a table barely big enough for two. With only two chairs and limited space, it left them with nowhere to stretch their legs.

Tae-oh, towering at 190 centimeters, and Se-hyeon, at 183 centimeters, had to shift uncomfortably—bending their legs inward, twisting slightly to avoid bumping into each other.

As Se-hyeon watched Tae-oh sip his coffee, he noticed something. Maybe it was the richer aroma compared to other cafés or the quiet atmosphere, but a certain expression crossed Tae-oh’s face…

He looked like a satisfied cat.

"This place is nice," Tae-oh mused, his voice carrying a hint of approval. "How did you find it?"

"I searched online."

"Ah, so it’s that easy."

Tae-oh lazily tilted his coffee cup, the liquid swaying dangerously near the rim.

Se-hyeon sighed internally. ‘What was this grown adult doing?’

He wordlessly grabbed a napkin, anticipating the inevitable mess.

"I see," Tae-oh smirked. "You really can’t take your eyes off me, Secretary Ahn."

His gaze flickered to the napkin in Se-hyeon's hand.

"If I spill, will you wipe my hands for me?"

"I'm sorry. It’s for wiping the table."

"Oh... the table?" Tae-oh feigned disappointment. "So the table is more important than me, huh?"

He glanced down at it—a small, unassuming thing, almost comically disproportionate to the two men seated across from each other.

"Should I buy you one?"

‘Buy it for yourself.’

Se-hyeon lowered his gaze, watching as Tae-oh scrutinized the table as if it held deep significance.

"It's not because the table is important," Se-hyeon finally said. "It’s to keep the place where the CEO has been clean."

If someone recognized Tae-oh and saw coffee stains left behind, it could tarnish his image. And as his secretary, it was part of Se-hyeon's job to manage that image. Fortunately, Tae-oh, despite his quirks, had a relatively decent and respectable personality—making Se-hyeon's job easier.

Or so he had thought.

"Is that so?"

At those words, Tae-oh deliberately tilted his cup further.

This time, the coffee did spill—streaming down his fingers, dripping onto the table in slow, deliberate trails.

Se-hyeon barely held back a sigh. ‘Why is he like this?’

No matter how much effort Se-hyeon put into finding the good in him, Tae-oh always managed to create moments like this. The thought that he was decent? Immediately revoked.

He was just an immature adult who refused to behave properly.

Still, Se-hyeon swiftly wiped the table with the napkin he had prepared. Then, with practiced efficiency, he pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around Tae-oh’s hand.

The fabric, neatly squared, couldn’t fully cover Tae-oh’s long fingers, leaving the edges awkwardly sticking out.

Dealing with someone who required double the attention was more than exhausting.

"Please take the handkerchief, sir."

But Tae-oh made no move to accept it.

Instead, he stared at the cloth wrapped around his fingers, then up at Se-hyeon. His voice was quieter when he spoke next, laced with something unreadable.

"This is your problem, Secretary Ahn."

Se-hyeon met his gaze evenly. "Excuse me?"

"A secretary is just doing what a secretary should do," Tae-oh murmured, his fingers lightly flexing against the fabric. "But somehow… you really shake people."
(note: pretty sure that this means that tae-oh wants se-hyeon to care for him, but se-hyeon dun wanna so he’s… shaken?)

Se-hyeon said nothing. Instead, he calmly took back the handkerchief, wiped the remaining coffee from Tae-oh’s skin himself, then tucked it back into his pocket—just as efficiently as he had taken it out.

He reached for Tae-oh’s abandoned coffee cup and pushed it aside.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he straightened, meeting Tae-oh’s gaze once more.

"I will continue to work hard in the future."

Tae-oh studied him for a moment longer.

And then, without another word, he stepped forward from the chair.

Then, with a small sigh, he muttered,

"Right. I’m supposed to be in the middle of an unrequited love for Jin-ha."

There was something in his voice—a faint edge of frustration, of dissatisfaction, as if he was irritated that Se-hyeon hadn’t reacted the way he wanted.

Se-hyeon, following behind him as they left the café, found himself staring at Tae-oh’s back.

It was strange. The Tae-oh he knew had genuinely liked Yoo Jin-ha. And yet—

"This café isn’t great," Tae-oh suddenly announced. "Let’s find another place. Shall we go?"

He didn’t bother arguing. Instead, he simply followed. “I’ll look for one.”

—
Yoo Jin-ha lay in bed, staring at the motionless phone beside him. His voice was laced with frustration and longing as he murmured, "I'm sick, and you won't even call me?"

He had been waiting—hoping—for a call from his lover, Ha Min-hyuk. But the phone remained silent, refusing to offer even the smallest sign of life.

Days ago, an acquaintance had called, claiming to have seen Ha Min-hyuk at a hotel on the very day they were supposed to meet. Without hesitation, Yoo Jin-ha had rushed over, only to arrive too late. There had been no trace of him. That bitter disappointment still lingered.

And now, there was nothing. No calls, no messages. Just silence.

Exhausted from bouncing between home and work, Yoo Jin-ha had finally taken time off to rest. His body burned with fever, sweat clinging to his skin. Still, he had waited, convincing himself that maybe—just maybe—Ha Min-hyuk would reach out.

But he never did.

Yoo Jin-ha turned his head toward the desk, where a neatly wrapped box sat. A gift from Tae-oh hyung.

Tae-oh had always been the one to reach out, the one to express his feelings openly. Until now, Yoo Jin-ha had never accepted his gestures—not even once. But today, he had.
Because no one else had reached out to him.

Because he had been alone, sick, and drowning in exhaustion.

Because, at least for today, Tae-oh was the only one who had thought of him.

"I have to return it," he muttered.

The realization came as quickly as the impulse that had made him accept it. Pretending not to know, pretending it meant nothing—he couldn’t do that to Tae-oh. He needed to return it.

But when?

Yoo Jin-ha tapped the phone screen absentmindedly, watching as Shin Tae-oh’s name appeared in his contacts. For a brief moment, his expression brightened.

Then, hesitation crept in.

What would he even say?

The thought of disappointing Tae-oh made it impossible to press the call button. If he had known it would come to this, he never would have accepted the gift in the first place.

After a long pause, he sighed and erased Tae-oh’s name from the dial screen, scrolling through his contacts instead.

Tae-oh always sent gifts through his secretary. Maybe he could return it that way.

—
As Se-hyeon turned off the engine in the parking lot, Tae-oh pointed to his phone.

"Secretary Ahn, there’s a call for you."

The phone, resting in the cup holder, displayed a name on the screen.

"'4ChiefSecretaryLeeJin-ho'?" Tae-oh read aloud, raising an eyebrow. "There’s not even a space."

"Yes," Se-hyeon replied casually.

"You saved it like this on purpose?"

It wasn’t something he’d given much thought to—just a way for him to recognize it easily. Had Tae-oh never noticed before? Then again, lately, they had only been sitting together in the passenger seat like this.

"People can save contacts however they want, but what’s with the '4'?" Tae-oh asked, his curiosity lingering.

"I apologize. I'll answer the call."

"Sure."

Se-hyeon, slightly bothered by the phone’s vibration, picked it up and answered with practiced ease. While speaking, he glanced at Tae-oh, silently signaling him to go ahead. If Tae-oh stepped out, Se-hyeon planned to follow shortly.

"Yes, chief. I'm on my way up now. Yes. Understood."

By the time the call ended, Tae-oh still hadn’t moved. Silence settled awkwardly between them. Se-hyeon frowned slightly—there was no reason for Tae-oh to wait. Did he have something to say?

"I'll go ahead," Se-hyeon said, reaching for the door handle.

But just before he stepped out, Tae-oh spoke again.

"I'm still curious about the '4.'"

Se-hyeon exhaled softly. It wasn’t anything significant… but if he explained it, it might sound strange.

Getting out of the car, he turned back, opened the passenger door, and waited for Tae-oh.

"I asked twice, but you still haven’t answered," Tae-oh noted, eyeing him with intrigue. "That makes me think there’s a deeper meaning."

"It's nothing important," Se-hyeon replied.

"But by not telling me—"

Why is he so persistent?

Holding back the urge to brush it off completely, Se-hyeon finally said, "It’s the fourth. I won’t disclose the meaning behind it."

"Now I'm even more curious," Tae-oh muttered.

"I apologize. It’s personal."

That was the end of the discussion. Tae-oh narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly dissatisfied, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped out of the car and stood next to Se-hyeon.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"I'm an only child."

"In that case…" Tae-oh mused. "Your parents would be the first and second?"

He catches on fast.

Without even knowing the true meaning, Tae-oh had immediately guessed it had something to do with family. That only made Se-hyeon more determined to keep the real reason hidden.

As they entered the CEO’s office, the deputy office manager approached them.

"The meeting preparations are complete."

"Understood."

"Shall we head to the conference room?"

At the secretary’s inquiry, Se-hyeon silently stepped aside. From this point on, it was the secretary’s job to accompany Tae-oh.

Tae-oh turned away from the CEO’s office entrance and headed toward the elevator, his curiosity still lingering.

"By the way…"

"Please proceed, sir."

"Have you ever encountered a situation where someone was the fourth?"

"...Pardon?"

The secretary gave him a puzzled look, clearly unsure what he meant. Ignoring the confusion, Tae-oh stepped into the elevator first.

The secretary, who followed him in belatedly, glanced back at Se-hyeon before the doors closed, as if expecting an answer.

Se-hyeon, however, turned his head away, refusing to meet his gaze.

‘I can never say it.’

He could never reveal the rankings of the people he had come to cherish.

Sitting at his desk, Se-hyeon prepared to focus on work until the meeting ended. Just as he reached for his mouse, his phone vibrated.

Recognizing the pattern, he knew it was a call. He turned his head toward the screen, but instead of immediately thinking about answering—

"Why is he calling?"

That was his first thought.

The caller ID read: Yoo Jin-ha.

Chapter Text

After the meeting, Tae-oh walked out with a serious expression, as if deeply immersed in thought. Lately, he had been closely examining his own wavering emotions.

It all started from the moment he first met Ahn Se-hyeon.

—
"Hello. I'm Ahn Se-hyeon, the new employee."

At the sound of a sweet, melodic voice, Tae-oh turned his head. Before him stood a man in a crisp, freshly bought suit—one that was obviously purchased just for this new job.

Whether it was his fair skin complementing the stark white of his shirt or the calm expression that softened his youthful features, Tae-oh found himself unable to look away.

They were hiring a new secretary, but had the deputy office manager made the selection without his review? If he had seen Se-hyeon's résumé beforehand, there was no way he would have forgotten that face.

"I'm Tae-oh."

As he spoke, his gaze locked onto Se-hyeon's deep-set eyes. His pupils were so dark that the irises barely showed, drawing Tae-oh in like an unseen force binding his entire body. It left him momentarily disoriented. How had someone like this appeared so suddenly, disrupting the very fabric of his world?

He forced himself to look away, regaining his composure.

‘It's just a new secretary. That’s all.’

What was he doing before this? Ah—shopping.

Reaching out absentmindedly, he grabbed something without thinking. Only when he glanced down did he realize it was a padded jacket—completely different from his usual style. He was about to put it back when…

"This..."

A memory—or perhaps just a strange, fleeting thought—flashed through his mind. He pictured Ahn Se-hyeon in a white padded jacket, just like this one. But that was impossible. It was his first time meeting him, so why was he thinking something so absurd?

"Would you like for me to buy it as a gift?"

Se-hyeon's voice interrupted his thoughts. It seemed he had noticed the hesitation, the way Tae-oh held the jacket without conviction. Despite not lingering on it for long, Se-hyeon was perceptive.

"If you tell me the recipient, I’ll choose the right size for them."

‘It’s you.’

But instead, Tae-oh hesitated and said, "...Jin-ha."

"Understood."

Without another word, Se-hyeon proceeded with the purchase, speaking with the store employee. Tae-oh watched his back as he walked ahead.

It was then he noticed—Se-hyeon was tall. Taller than he had first realized. Perhaps it was because of his small, well-proportioned face that it hadn't been obvious before.

—
Recalling the first time he had seen Se-hyeon, Tae-oh cast an irritated glance at the deputy office manager.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you still hung up on being the fourth?"

The deputy office manager, unwilling to let the matter go, pressed him about it.

"I don't know either. So just drop it," Tae-oh muttered.

The deputy office manager scoffed, shaking his head. "You're acting like a jealous kid. How much more of this do I have to put up with? I'm supposed to be serving the CEO, not babysitting him."

Tae-oh narrowed his eyes. "I'm the CEO. Should you really be talking to me like that?"

Unbothered, the deputy office manager pointed at himself. "And do you know that I’m older than you?"

Tae-oh smirked. "And do you know that I'm taller and bigger than you?"

Lee Jin-ho sighed, exasperated. "If you're going to say nonsense like that, why did you even hire me?"

"Because I like my hyung."

"Then do your job well, dong-saeng."

With another sigh, Lee Jin-ho shook his head at Tae-oh’s stubbornness, giving up on the conversation.

Muttering to himself, as if Tae-oh and their tangled senior-junior relationship were the greatest burdens in his life, Jin-ho suddenly felt a wave of annoyance. It was because Tae-oh's eyes were still half-closed, lost in thought.

"Use your eyes properly. What's wrong with you?"

"Ahn Se-hyeon."

"What about Ahn? Why are you bringing him up?"

"I don’t like that you hired him without even consulting me."

Jin-ho scoffed. "What nonsense are you talking about? What do you mean I didn’t tell you? You had his resume right in front of you. What, should I have shoved it in your face and forced you to read it?"

Tae-oh raised an eyebrow. "I don’t remember seeing his resume. And there’s no way I could forget a picture of Secretary Ahn’s face."

"...Ha."

Only then did Jin-ho realize what was going on. With a sigh, he handed Tae-oh a tablet. Tae-oh opened the personnel file and scrolled to the attached ID photo.

"Look. This was his initial identification photo. It was so bad that I told him to retake it after he was hired."

Lee Jin-ho turned off Se-hyeon’s personal information and pressed the elevator button, “I remember it. His bangs covered most of his face, and his nose looked flattened. Yeah, I told him to retake it after he got married."

Jin-ho shut off the screen and pressed the elevator button. "Take good care of Ahn Se-hyeon so he doesn’t run away. No one else knows you and tolerates you as well as he does."

As expected, Tae-oh remained silent at the nagging. But what caught Jin-ho off guard was the serious look reflected on the elevator doors.

"What’s with that face? Why aren’t you saying anything?"

"He knew me well." Tae-oh muttered, his mind racing. "That’s right... Why didn’t I think of that before?"

Back when they first met, Tae-oh had dragged Se-hyeon into a conversation about getting Jin-ha a padded jacket. At the time, he had only mentioned Jin-ha absentmindedly, trying to avoid thinking about Se-hyeon. But Se-hyeon’s reaction had been immediate.

He never asked who Jin-ha was. He just bought the jacket in exactly the right size.

Jin-ho frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Ahn Se-hyeon knew about Jin-ha from the beginning."

As if he had always known. Could it be that Se-hyeon had sought out the secretary position because of that? How long had he known about me?

After working together for over three years, Tae-oh felt frustrated by his own obliviousness. How had he never questioned this before? Maybe this was the moment—his chance to get closer to Ahn Se-hyeon.

"Huh? I told him myself," Jin-ho said bluntly.

Tae-oh blinked. "Oh. Really?"

His face brightened, relieved to have the mystery solved so quickly. Jin-ho clicked his tongue.

"I told him because you said you were going to marry Jin-ha."

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah. You were acting like you were picking a marriage partner the same way you’d pick out clothes. Anyway, you suddenly started showering Jin-ha with gifts—and guess who had to discreetly handle all of that? Secretary Ahn. He did a damn good job, considering he was just a new hire at the time."

Jin-ho grumbled, still annoyed by the memory.

Tae-oh, however, wasn’t listening anymore. His expression darkened as he tried to untangle the thoughts clouding his mind.

"I was sure I wanted to marry Yoo Jin-ha. But… something feels off."

He had always believed that Jin-ha was his destined partner. But now, it felt as if someone had dammed the river of emotions that had once flowed so naturally toward him.

There was only one way to deal with this.

"I need to confront it head-on."

—
Standing in front of Yoo Jin-ha’s house once again, Se-hyeon couldn’t help but wonder why he was here.

While waiting for Shin Tae-oh’s meeting to end, he had suddenly received a call from Jin-ha, asking to meet. Without much thought, Se-hyeon had agreed.

He hadn’t asked why. There had been a brief silence in the conversation, and Jin-ha’s voice had sounded weak when he said he wanted to see him.

‘What is he up to?’

Se-hyeon glanced down at the bags in his hands. It felt strange to show up like this just because they had met once yesterday. He should have just dropped off what was needed and left, but here he was. And it was Yoo Jin-ha, of all people.

‘Maybe it’s his heat cycle… or stress.’

Jin-ha was usually in good health, but whenever it came to Ha Min-hyuk, something always felt off. Se-hyeon had been tempted to just tell Ha Min-hyuk to stay away from him.

Regardless, he had prepared based on memory—bringing heat cycle suppressants suited to Jin-ha’s body, medicine to reduce fever, and an ion drink in case he hadn’t eaten properly.

‘Ha… whatever.’

He had already bought everything. Now, all that was left was to hand them over. Pushing aside his doubts about his own actions, Se-hyeon pressed the doorbell.

Jin-ha answered shortly after, and the moment their eyes met, Se-hyeon swallowed back a sigh.

"Are you still sick?"

He had been sick yesterday, and now again today. How long was this going to last?

"Ah… I’m fine. Please, come in."

Jin-ha stepped aside to let him in, and Se-hyeon followed, watching his back. As they entered the living room, Se-hyeon’s gaze landed on a familiar box.

Jin-ha headed toward the kitchen.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"It’s fine. I just want to know why you called me here."

Jin-ha returned and sat across from Se-hyeon, looking somewhat awkward, as if measuring his reaction.

"I'm sorry for calling you over when I should’ve come to you instead."

"You asked me to come, so don’t worry about it. But before anything else, take this."

Jin-ha eyed the plastic bag and the paper envelope with uncertainty.

"What is it?"

"I brought medicine since I thought you might have a fever. There’s also porridge and an ion drink."

"...Why did you…?"

"That’s what I’d like to ask. Why haven’t you gotten better yet?"

Se-hyeon had hoped the medicine wouldn’t be necessary.

"Did Tae-oh hyung send these?"

It was an understandable assumption—Se-hyeon often came bearing gifts from Shin Tae-oh.

‘Should I just say yes?’

It would make Tae-oh look considerate for taking care of a sick person.

"...No."

Though he had hesitated internally, the words that left his lips contradicted that thought.

The reason was simple.

It wasn’t just that Shin Tae-oh’s feelings for Jin-ha bothered him. More importantly, Jin-ha shouldn’t waver because of Tae-oh.

Taenyang hadn’t handled things well, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Just take everything. If you can’t finish it, share it with someone."

"Thank you."

Jin-ha accepted the items, his hands lingering over them. He looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Before he could, Se-hyeon turned his gaze toward the gift Tae-oh had sent.

"Are you planning to return that?"

"Yeah."

‘Ha… it’s good that I haven’t thrown away the receipt yet.’

"I see. Can I ask why you’re refusing it?"

Se-hyeon carefully gathered the items back into the box. There was no real need for a reason, but since Jin-ha hadn’t rejected it outright like he usually did, it felt like he should have something to tell Tae-oh.

"Because it’s the right thing to do."

Se-hyeon’s pupils flickered as he caught the apologetic look on Jin-ha’s face. It was a reminder—Shin Tae-oh was just a side character in this story, one who had fallen for someone he was never meant to have.

Perhaps his feelings had started because of what happened during Jin-ha’s heat cycle.

‘Get it together.’

Coming here was the right decision. It allowed him to rebuild the plot line that had started to waver because of the accepted gift.

Chapter Text

As Se-hyeon silently stared at the gift Yoo Jin-ha had just returned, his mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

"I should give this back to him, but..."

He had brought it all the way from the office, yet now that Shin Tae-oh was nowhere in sight, he hesitated. How would Tae-oh react? Would he accept it as if it were nothing? Or would he be curious about the sudden change of heart?

Would he be... disappointed?

"Why am I like this?"

Se-hyeon realized he had gone mad—worrying about Shin Tae-oh in the middle of what was supposed to be an amusing spectacle. Until now, he had merely been a messenger caught between Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha. But this time, it felt different.

This time, he was in the story.

Suppressing his frustration, Se-hyeon smoothed his expression when someone passed by his desk, acting as if nothing had happened. He didn’t want to look pathetic in front of others.

"Well, there’s nothing I can do. I’ll just treat him like normal."

Just as he always did, he would act like nothing was different. That included this gift. The best thing to do was hand it over as if it meant nothing.

And whatever happened after that...

‘Well, that was the Chief Secretary’s problem now.’

When faced with a difficult situation, delegation was always the best option.

Se-hyeon checked the schedule, noting when Shin Tae-oh would arrive. Right on time, the door opened, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. Without even glancing up, Se-hyeon stood.

"Have you arrived, sir?"

As he bowed slightly in greeting, Shin Tae-oh, who had been walking past, suddenly stopped. His body turned slowly, his gaze distant, as if lost in thought.

When their eyes met, Se-hyeon’s hand instinctively went to the box.

‘Did he notice it?’

Just as Se-hyeon was about to explain, assuming that was why Tae-oh had stopped, Tae-oh spoke first.

"How did you know?"

"...Huh?"

What?

Se-hyeon had braced himself for questions about the returned gift, but Tae-oh’s words caught him completely off guard.

"I mean," Tae-oh continued, "you didn’t even look at me. How did you know it was me?"

Se-hyeon was momentarily speechless.

"Well, I saw you coming in—"

"You didn’t look at me."

That was true. He hadn’t. Yet he had still known. Because it was Shin Tae-oh.

But was that an answer he could give? Normally, he would have brushed it off with a quick remark, but now he hesitated. As the silence stretched, Tae-oh’s gaze grew sharper, making Se-hyeon unconsciously press his fingernail against the edge of the box, scratching at it slightly.

"Sir."

The tension broke as another voice entered the conversation. The Chief Secretary, who had been following behind, stepped forward. Shin Tae-oh’s brow furrowed slightly at the interruption, his expression briefly unguarded. Unfortunately for him, Se-hyeon was facing him directly and caught the reaction.

"You know, secretaries can recognize the sound of their boss’s footsteps."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it’s true. Especially when the footsteps are heavy."

Se-hyeon added smoothly, keeping his tone casual.

At the word heavy, Se-hyeon and the other secretaries flinched slightly, exchanging glances.

The Chief Secretary continued, undeterred. "Considering your stature, wouldn’t it be fitting to say that? For example... like a bear walking?"

There it was—the final push to redirect the conversation.

Se-hyeon knew the Chief Secretary wasn’t someone who would typically crack jokes about things like this. He had done it for his sake.

Now that the question had lost its weight, Shin Tae-oh turned away as if there was nothing more to say. He took the lead, the Chief Secretary following closely behind. But just before leaving, the older man cast a slightly furrowed glance at Se-hyeon.

Meeting his gaze, Se-hyeon responded with a faint smile.

It was exactly why he could never bring himself to dislike Lee Jin-ho.

"Aren’t you coming in, Secretary Jin-ho?" Shin Tae-oh’s voice carried a faint trace of irritation.

"I'm coming."

At the sound of his boss’s displeased tone, the Chief Secretary quickly picked up his pace. Se-hyeon, who had been lingering near the office door, subtly lowered his gaze as his eyes met Shin Tae-oh’s.

Only after the door shut behind them did Se-hyeon feel the tension drain from his body. He let out a soft sigh, lowering his head.

That’s when he realized—he hadn’t mentioned Yoo Jin-ha.

"Ah."

Looking down, he noticed the crumpled edge of the box in his hands. The moment he had felt Shin Tae-oh’s gaze, a strange unease had crept over him, and before he even realized it, he had crushed the packaging.

"I was going to ask for a refund..."

The item inside was still untouched, but would a damaged box make it harder to return?

Meanwhile, Shin Tae-oh stood with his arms crossed, his displeasure evident. His gaze flickered between Se-hyeon, who remained outside the door, and Lee Jin-ho, who had just entered.

Even though he hadn’t seen it himself, he knew Se-hyeon would recognize him without looking. That much was obvious. But then the Chief Secretary had butted in—getting in the way.

And even Se-hyeon was a problem.

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze sharpened as he watched Lee Jin-ho, who, rather than acknowledging him, instead directed a small smile at Se-hyeon.

"Why are you acting like that?"

Lee Jin-ho, engrossed in his tablet while reviewing the schedule, barely spared him a glance.

Shin Tae-oh frowned at the clueless expression on the man’s face, irritation bubbling up again.

"You don’t need to know about the fourth thing."

With that cryptic remark, he finally returned to his seat.

Lee Jin-ho smirked. "The fourth thing? What on earth does that mean?"

CEO Shin Tae-oh. Executive Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon. Driver Secretary Moon Ha-jun. And himself.

Here’s a refined version of your passage for better clarity, flow, and natural expression while maintaining the original tone:

"Aren’t you coming in, Secretary Jin-ho?" Shin Tae-oh’s voice carried a faint trace of irritation.

"I'm coming."

At the sound of his boss’s displeased tone, the Chief Secretary quickly picked up his pace. Se-hyeon, who had been lingering near the office door, subtly lowered his gaze as his eyes met Shin Tae-oh’s. He had entered first, so why was he still standing near the entrance?

I can’t just stand here after making eye contact.

Only after the door shut behind them did Se-hyeon feel the tension drain from his body. He let out a soft sigh, lowering his head.

That’s when he realized—he hadn’t mentioned Yoo Jin-ha.

"Ah."

Looking down, he noticed the crumpled edge of the box in his hands. The moment he had felt Shin Tae-oh’s gaze, a strange unease had crept over him, and before he even realized it, he had crushed the packaging.

"I was going to ask for a refund..."

The item inside was still untouched, but would a damaged box make it harder to return?

Meanwhile, Shin Tae-oh stood with his arms crossed, his displeasure evident. His gaze flickered between Se-hyeon, who remained outside the door, and Lee Jin-ho, who had just entered.

Even though he hadn’t seen it himself, he knew Se-hyeon would recognize him without looking. That much was obvious. But then the Chief Secretary had butted in—getting in the way.

And even Se-hyeon was a problem.

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze sharpened as he watched Lee Jin-ho, who, rather than acknowledging him, instead directed a small smile at Se-hyeon.

"Why are you acting like that?"

Lee Jin-ho, engrossed in his tablet while reviewing the schedule, barely spared him a glance.

Shin Tae-oh frowned at the clueless expression on the man’s face, irritation bubbling up again.

"You don’t need to know about the fourth thing."

With that cryptic remark, he finally returned to his seat.

Lee Jin-ho smirked. "The fourth thing? What on earth does that mean?"

CEO Shin Tae-oh. Executive Secretary Ahn Se-hyeon. Driver Secretary Moon Ha-jun. And himself.

That would make him the fourth one...

Lee Jin-ho glanced down at his own legs.

‘Wait. Is this about height???

—
Ha Min-hyuk. Yoo Jin-ha. Shin Tae-oh. Ha Jin-seong. Ha Jin-woong…

Se-hyeon wrote down each name in his diary, one by one.

Since becoming Ahn Se-hyeon, this was only the second time he had stopped to seriously reflect on how he should live.

Now, it was time to think again.

‘Where exactly are we in the original work? When will the antagonist appear? And…’

His pen hovered over the page.

‘When will Shin Tae-oh’s heart change?’

The original novel was titled Sweet Alpha, Cool Omega—a BL story set in the Omegaverse. On the surface, it was simple and straightforward: Ha Min-hyuk, a sweet-pheromone alpha, and Yoo Jin-ha, a cool-pheromone omega, fall in love as their emotions clash.

But the novel wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed. Instead, it thrived on constant tension, with dramatic highs and lows shaping the story. From the moment they met and felt an unexplainable pull toward each other, their quiet daily lives were riddled with obstacles.

The antagonist, Ha Jin-woong, was the one who relentlessly created misunderstandings between them. In the early chapters, Shin Tae-oh emerged as a key figure, subtly revealing his growing fondness for Yoo Jin-ha. Even after overcoming those misunderstandings, the couple had to repeatedly face interference, making trust the central theme of the later arcs.

"Shin Tae-oh."

Se-hyeon pressed his pen against the name, leaving an indent on the paper.

Tae-oh’s feelings for Yoo Jin-ha were more than just fleeting interest.

He would call out Jin-ha’s name every day. Buy him gifts. Dream of a future together.

So why did Se-hyeon now find himself doubting whether it was truly love?

"He definitely liked him."

In the novel, that much had been clear.

‘Did something change along the way?’

The setting of the original work remained the same. There hadn't been any drastic deviations—at least, none that Se-hyeon had noticed. And he hadn’t interfered with the story. Becoming Shin Tae-oh’s secretary shouldn’t have had any impact on the novel’s progression. The supporting characters were still the same.

Then why did it feel like things were slowly slipping off course?

If only someone else also knew the original story, it wouldn’t be so frustrating.

But he was alone in this.

Everything was unfolding as if he were the only one who had ever read the novel.

Se-hyeon tapped his pen against the diary, exhaling sharply.

‘If that’s the case… then I just need to make sure the story follows its original path.’

Shin Tae-oh was supposed to harbor an unrequited love for Yoo Jin-ha.

That’s how it should be.

"I don’t understand Taenyang’s thoughts."

In the original work, Taenyang had been mischievous, his feelings for Yoo Jin-ha surfacing during his rivalry with Ha Min-hyuk. But now everything is twisted.

—
After hearing that he could refund the coffee machine, Se-hyeon finally arrived at Shin Tae-oh's house, setting the box down in one corner.

‘Is he taking a shower?’

He approached the bathroom and pressed his ear against the door. The sound of running water confirmed his guess.

Se-hyeon sighed and turned away, heading toward the living room.

The space was more elegant than a hotel suite—spacious yet warm, with a subtle harmony that prevented it from feeling cold. Instead of cluttering the space with unnecessary furniture, the walls had been used creatively to add character.

It was an unexpected contrast.

Shin Tae-oh, with his imposing stature and sharp presence, had an unexpectedly meticulous touch.

If Se-hyeon had to name one example, it would be the door caps—small, barely noticeable additions designed to prevent fingers from getting caught. Shin Tae-oh had them installed during construction, long before they became a common feature in high-end apartments.

Perhaps this kind of attention to detail was why the value of the apartment brand had skyrocketed since he became CEO.

‘If only he applied this level of consideration to Yoo Jin-ha.’

Instead of making excuses and hesitating for years… shouldn’t he have realized something by now?

‘He’s oddly slow to catch on.’

With a sigh of frustration, Se-hyeon wandered down the hallway, his gaze drawn to the framed artworks adorning the walls.

‘That one was bought when we went together. This one was a gift from the office manager, brought all the way from the U.S…’

His eyes lingered on a particular section of the wall—a space that had never been left empty during all his visits. The artwork changed, but its position never did.

Because behind it lay a secret.

‘That’s where the safe is hidden.’

It was a detail Se-hyeon had never shared with anyone. Shin Tae-oh had personally designed the concealed vault, embedding it seamlessly into the wall.

Se-hyeon had never opened it, nor had he ever needed to. But he knew what was inside.

“What are you doing?” Shin Tae-oh’s voice broke the silence.

Whether he had finished his shower unusually fast or Se-hyeon had lost track of time, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, he turned to face him with practiced ease.

"I was just appreciating the artwork."

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze flickered to the frames before returning to Se-hyeon.

"Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow. "I heard the office manager spent a lot of money on that one. I guess he likes sunflowers."

Se-hyeon nodded, fully aware that Shin Tae-oh’s question was deliberate.

"I do like them."

"I see." Shin Tae-oh’s tone was unreadable. "By the way, did you know that sunflowers are believed to bring good fortune?"

"I didn't."

Se-hyeon tucked that information away as he stepped further into the living room.

"Sir, Yoo Jin-ha—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Shin Tae-oh turned away, barely acknowledging his words.

His gaze had settled on one of the paintings.

A field of yellow sunflowers, stretching endlessly toward the sky.

Chapter Text

"Did he return this to me?"

"Yes."

"He finally accepted a gift for the first time, but even that had been returned like this."

"Yes, that's correct."

Shin Tae-oh examined the box closely, his expression unreadable.

Se-hyeon, watching him, felt a pang of unease. Normally, he wouldn’t feel tense around Tae-oh, but now… seeing the exact spot where he had crumpled the box, it made him nervous.

Why was this bother him so much?

As soon as Shin Tae-oh looked away, he’d tuck the box into a corner and get rid of it. It was a good thing he had kept the receipt. The machine was unused, and with the right excuse, a refund wouldn’t be an issue…

"Have you tried this brand before?" Se-hyeon asked out of politeness.

"Well, I’ve used a similar model before..."

‘You use the same damn brand every morning.’

"...But you know, technology is always evolving. There’s no reason this one wouldn't be improved too. We should test it."

‘Bullshit. It’s literally the same product.’

"That’s why I need to try it."

‘Why? If Yoo Jin-ha didn’t want it, returning it was the obvious choice. So why open it?’

Se-hyeon clenched his fist, forcibly stopping himself from reaching out. If he wasn’t careful, he might actually smack Shin Tae-oh on the head.

'Don’t. Don’t open it. Leave it alone!'

He silently pleaded. But, of course, Shin Tae-oh couldn’t hear him. With complete confidence, he tore open the packaging.

The spot where Se-hyeon had crumpled it with his fingernail was barely noticeable now…

"At first glance, it looks exactly the same as the one I already have. What’s changed?" Tae-oh muttered.

Se-hyeon’s jaw clenched. Shin Tae-oh’s muttering sounded so irritating. It was ironic how this was exactly how he made ridiculous excuses while giving gifts to Yoo Jin-ha—except now, he was directing that same logic toward himself.

But seeing him seriously inspect the machine… it didn’t feel like just an excuse anymore, he actually seemed genuine with his feelings.

And somehow, that realization made Se-hyeon’s chest tighten.

‘It’s not my money anyway. And he’ll just use another one. I shouldn’t care.’

There was no reason to hesitate. He had delivered the gift. His job was done.

"I’ll do it."

With a regained sense of composure, Se-hyeon took the coffee machine from Shin Tae-oh’s hands.

Without another word, he headed to the kitchen. He placed it on the kitchen counter, grabbed a brand-new mug, and set it beside the existing one. The colors complemented each other so well, it was a nice harmonious attention to detail.

Since the machine was now open, he ran it without a capsule to clean it. While waiting, he wiped down the new mug and repeated the process, meticulously cleaning both the device and its exterior. Once satisfied, he inserted a capsule and pressed the button.

He ran the machine through a cleaning cycle, wiping it down meticulously. His movements were precise, controlled—almost therapeutic. The rhythmic hum of the machine, the rising scent of coffee, it all helped cool his temper.

By the time he poured the coffee and placed the mug in front of Tae-oh, his frustration had settled.

But Tae-oh simply stared at it with a smile.

"Is there a problem?" Se-hyeon asked.

"I’ve already had two cups today."

Of course.

Shin Tae-oh had this rigid philosophy—two cups of coffee a day, no more, no less. It wasn’t about caffeine intake; it was just… his rule.

"Then why did you want to try this?" Se-hyeon asked, irritation flaring again.

Tae-oh smirked. "Secretary Ahn, do you want to drink it?"

"No, I don't."

"Don't refuse so quickly." His smirk deepened.

"I'm fine."

"How many cups have you had today?"

‘Four.’

"Try it and tell me if it tastes any different."

Se-hyeon shot him a glare, but ultimately picked up the mug. Would this ruin his sleep later? Probably. But refusing would drag this out even longer.

Without sitting, he took a sip, then set the mug down with an unchanged expression.

"Well?"

"It's the same."

"No difference at all?"

"None."

"Huh. So no renewal."

‘Obviously.’

Se-hyeon exhaled, staring at his reflection in the coffee’s surface, trying to steady himself.

"Does it not taste good?"

"No, it’s good."

"Really?" Tae-oh leaned back. "Then the secretary can have it."

Se-hyeon blinked. "What?"

Tae-oh gestured at the machine. "Take it."

Se-hyeon turned to follow his gaze, as if looking at the same spot would make it make sense.

"I don’t really like capsule coffee," Tae-oh added, feigning indifference. "The aroma isn’t strong enough."

‘And the obviously used machine next to it is just for decoration, huh?’

"Maybe it's the beans," Tae-oh continued thoughtfully.

‘Since when do you care about coffee beans when you drink vending machine coffee?’

"Anyway, you should take it."

Tae-oh stood, casually tapping the machine before lifting it and placing it into Se-hyeon’s arms.

Se-hyeon barely had time to react before their gazes met.

"...Oh, I forgot the mug," Tae-oh mused, handing it over as well.

"Take it all. It'll be hard carrying it on public transport, so use my car."

And just like that, he turned and strolled into the kitchen, leaving Se-hyeon standing there, arms full of coffee machine and confusion.

‘What the hell just happened?’

Was this his way of preventing the refund? Or…

His plan of calling it a gift for Yoo Jin-ha, only to pass it to Se-hyeon, was laughably transparent. But somehow, it felt… genuine.

—
Se-hyeon stepped into his small one-room apartment, the coffee machine still in his arms, and let out a deep sigh. His gaze swept over the familiar space—everything visible at a glance. Though compact, the room was filled with objects that traced his time as Shin Tae-oh’s secretary.

A round, silver coffee table, seemingly ordinary but actually imported from Italy. A sleek stylist, standing proudly beside his modest wardrobe, as if out of place. A high-end monitor and computer tower took up the prime real estate in the room—more prominent than even his own bed.

And those were just the things that stood out at first glance. The more he looked, the clearer it became—his life was cluttered with remnants of Shin Tae-oh.

"Where the hell am I supposed to put this?"

There was no place to put the newly arrived member of the collection. He scanned the already cramped space, sighing as he acknowledged the obvious: the kitchen was too small, the sink area already at full capacity. In the end, he set the coffee machine down on the console table beside his bed.

"Not bad."

He nodded to himself, pretending that the placement was intentional—that it would be nice to fall asleep to the rich aroma of coffee. It was easier to focus on that than the gnawing sense of emptiness creeping in.

With a faint sense of relief, he picked up a towel. A worn-out, familiar thing with "Sports Day" printed across it—the kind of freebie Shin Tae-oh would casually hand out without a second thought. It had long since become part of his daily routine.

"The towels I used at that hotel seemed thinner..."

—
A party pulsed inside a luxurious club room, the air thick with music and indulgence. Women in tiny bikinis lounged by the pool, their laughter blending with the splashes of water. The men, their swim trunks barely the size of their hand, flaunted sculpted bodies under the dim, golden glow of chandeliers.

It was a scene of excess—people dressed to impress, basking in the hedonistic energy of the night.
In the VIP section, the atmosphere was no different. A sprawling table was littered with expensive liquor bottles, cigar smoke curling through the air. Amidst it all, two men sat at the center of attention, their presence commanding the space.

Ha Jin-woong, lounging with a drink in hand, suddenly straightened, his relaxed posture vanishing as he read something on his phone.

(note: Ha Jin-woong is the antagonist of the novel our se-hyeon isekai-ed into)

"Hey," he called out, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "I heard Shin Tae-oh has a girlfriend."

His twin brother, Ha Jin-seong, barely glanced up from where he sat, a woman draped over his arm. At first, he didn't react. Then, with a slow blink, he turned to his brother, his expression darkening with intrigue.

"That eunuch bastard? A lover?" His voice was laced with disdain.

"Hye-in’s losing her goddamn mind over it," Jin-woong continued, shaking his head as he tapped his phone screen. "She’s been spamming me non-stop, completely unhinged."

He flipped the phone around, shoving it toward his brother. The incessant buzzing of notifications, drowned out before by the music, suddenly became noticeable.

The man, Ha Jin-woong(note: the antagonist if u didnt know), who was conveying the news about Shin Tae-oh, showed his twin brother, Ha Jin-seong, the phone he had placed on the table. The incessant vibrations, previously unnoticed amidst the music, were coming from a KakaoTalk message sent by Jinmyeong Group's wealthy heir.

Jin-seong took the phone, skimming through the relentless flood of KakaoTalk messages from Jin Hye-in, heir to the powerful Jin-myeong Group.

"Look at this shit."

Hye-in’s texts were aggressive, her words sharp and unfiltered.

Why the hell would Shin Tae-oh reject me?

His family was the first to propose a marriage arrangement—he should be grateful.

Does he think he can humiliate me and get away with it?

"The girl is absolutely insane. Can't you see how fucking annoying it is?"

Ha Jin-woong sneered as he read the messages. Then, in one swift motion, he slammed his glass down onto the table.

"Fuck. Turn off the music."

The command cut through the air, slicing through the revelry.

The DJ, stunned, hesitated for only a second before scrambling to obey. The pounding bass cut out abruptly, leaving only the hushed murmurs of confused partygoers. Heads turned toward Ha Jin-seong, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.

Unbothered by the eyes on him, Jin-seong stared at his phone for a long moment. Then, with a slow exhale, he dialed a number.

The line barely rang before a tear-choked voice answered.

– Tae-oh… he was stolen from me.

His grip on the phone tightened.

"Hye-in, have you been drinking?" His voice was sharp, impatient. "You're crossing the line."

Upon hearing Jin Hye-in's tearful words, Ha Jin-seong let out a sigh. After playing around a few times, she acted as if they had a serious relationship.

– They said they’d accept the proposal, but it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Because he was already stolen by someone else!

Jin-seong pressed his fingers against his temple, eyes narrowing.

Hye-in was always like this. Possessive. Entitled. She could toy with people, but the moment she felt outplayed, she spiraled.

"What should I even do with this girl" he muttered.

- I even planned to go with Shin Tae-oh this time. I wanted to leave a proper impression… but now—

As Ha Jin-seong's half-covered eyes contemplated overturning everything, the image of Yi Chae came to mind.

(note: The Portrait of Yi Chae, a work of art depicting a dignified scholar. Yi used this portrait to engage in intense self-contemplation, pondering his beliefs and identity and navigating his path into the future.)

If Shin Tae-oh was slipping through their grasp, perhaps it was time to upend the board entirely.

With a slow smirk, he finally spoke.

"If you want to go…" His voice was smooth, laced with something dangerous.

"Then go."

Chapter Text

‘How many hours did I even sleep? It didn’t even feel like two…’

Se-hyeon rubbed his tired eyes, suppressing a groan. His body ached with exhaustion—probably a side effect of drowning himself in too much coffee the night before. Falling asleep had been a battle, and now, the weight of fatigue pressed down on him like an iron blanket.

If only he could collapse onto the nearest couch and steal a few more moments of rest. But today wasn’t just any day.

Today, he had to stick to Shin Tae-oh like a shadow.

‘I need to stay sharp today. No distractions.’

Because today was the day when all the key players from the original story would gather in one place.

A high-profile product launch at Ha Min-hyuk’s company meant the presence of both Shin Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha. But more than that, the event would also draw in the antagonists—Ha Jin-seong and Ha Jin-woong.

A loaded room. A volatile mix. And Se-hyeon had to navigate through it all.

"Ha Jin-seong. Ha Min-hyuk."

He muttered their names under his breath, as if testing their weight.

Both men shared the same last name, but their connection was anything but brotherly. Ha Min-hyuk, the main protagonist, was an illegitimate son—born from his father’s affair with an omega. That fact alone had sentenced him to a life of torment at the hands of his two older brothers.

But he never crumbled. Instead, he held his ground, enduring their cruelty, biding his time—until eventually, he pushed them aside and took everything.

And today’s launch event? It was the first step in that journey.

Ha Min-hyuk would gain power. He would prove himself. And the tides would shift.

Se-hyeon straightened his tie, catching his own reflection in the elevator’s mirrored walls.

‘Between those warring titans, I only have one priority.’

‘Defending Taenyangi in a whale’s fight.’

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering drowsiness. Yoo Jin-ha might be bound to Ha Min-hyuk, but Shin Tae-oh wasn’t. And while his role in the story had always been that of a side character, Se-hyeon couldn’t shake the unease creeping in his chest.

‘I have to protect him.’

Because he was the only one who knew how this story would unfold.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open. With a renewed sense of resolve, Se-hyeon stepped out.

"Good morning."

Shin Tae-oh was already waiting, dressed to perfection, his every move effortlessly composed. But as his gaze landed on Se-hyeon, his expression shifted—curiosity flickering behind his sharp eyes.

"You seem different from usual."

Se-hyeon blinked.

"Is that so?"

Normally, this kind of comment would be met with a casual response—maybe a sleepy complaint about a bad night’s rest. But indulging in small talk with one’s boss was dangerous. The more personal their conversations became, the more blurred the line between superior and subordinate.

So, he kept it professional. Detached. But…

"Did you go to a battlefield or something?" Shin Tae-oh pressed, tilting his head slightly. "You seem… strangely combative."

Se-hyeon stiffened.

He figured it out that fast?

"No, sir," he lied smoothly.

Se-hyeon hoped that Shin Tae-oh would just let this conversation go. He couldn't bring himself to say something like, "I'm trying to protect you."

"Well, if Secretary Ahn says so, then so be it."

It was almost too easy—the way he let it go. Suspiciously easy.

But before Se-hyeon could dwell on it, Shin Tae-oh took a step forward, pausing just before the door and turning back to him.

"Do you feel like I’m missing something today?"

Se-hyeon blinked.

He hadn’t expected that. But he quickly recovered, taking a step closer to assess him.

The flawless suit accentuated his broad shoulders, the tailored fit molding to his frame with practiced precision. His tie—perfectly knotted. His face—the same striking handsomeness that could turn heads in an instant.

"No, sir. Everything is in order."

Shin Tae-oh hummed, seemingly satisfied. But then—

"How about comparing me to someone else?"

‘…What?’

For a second, Se-hyeon thought he misheard. Comparing him to someone else? His boss was acting childish.

Still, Se-hyeon wasn’t about to argue. Instead, he gave the exact answer Shin Tae-oh clearly wanted to hear.

"You’re the coolest, sir."

Silence.

Shin Tae-oh’s lips quirked in amusement.

"That's a strange thing to say."

Se-hyeon faltered. "Pardon?"

He couldn't understand why it was considered strange when he gave the answer Shin Tae-oh wanted to hear.

"You said I was cool last time. Don't you have anything else to say?"

He had praised him, showing admiration and how impressive... Well, something along those lines. But it seemed like it wasn't enough. Since it had come to this, he needed to come up with another compliment. What should he say?

Se-hyeon blurted the first thing that came to mind. "You're handsome."

After all, the simpler the compliment, the better it works.

"That's too boring."

Shin Tae-oh shook his head as if he had heard that phrase too many times.

"Anything else?"

Se-hyeon stared at him. Was he seriously fishing for compliments? Whatever the case, this day was already off to an exhausting start.

—
"Sir, hello."

Yoo Jin-ha, who had been chatting with the company staff, immediately noticed Shin Tae-oh and approached him. As the others picked up on his presence, they greeted him one by one, but Shin Tae-oh simply gestured toward the entrance.

"Why are you waiting out here? Come inside."

"I was waiting for you, sir."

Shin Tae-oh’s expression remained indifferent. "What’s the point?"

His cold response made the surrounding employees glance at each other in silent confusion. Normally, the Chief Secretary would step in to smooth things over, but today, Lee Jin-ho was absent.

The team leader, feeling the awkwardness, hesitated before speaking up. "Didn't the Chief Secretary come with you?"

Shin Tae-oh brushed it off. "He's busy. Off buying sunflowers."

"Sun…flowers?"

The team leader’s confusion was obvious, but before he could ask for clarification, Shin Tae-oh was already walking away, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Se-hyeon, who had been observing quietly, kept his eyes on Shin Tae-oh’s retreating figure. It wasn’t unusual for the Chief Secretary to handle unexpected situations, so he had assumed this time would be no different.

The flooring changed beneath their feet, transitioning from a solid surface to a plush carpet. The cushioned softness was an odd contrast to the underlying tension that still clung to the air.

Se-hyeon’s gaze swept across the room, searching for familiar faces from the original work when suddenly—

A hand grabbed his arm.

"Um..."

Se-hyeon turned to find Yoo Jin-ha gripping his sleeve. His usually bright eyes seemed darker under the dim hallway lights.

"What's the matter?" Se-hyeon asked.

Yoo Jin-ha hesitated before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear.

"That item…"

Se-hyeon immediately understood.

"You mean the coffee machine?"

Yoo Jin-ha nodded. "I already informed the CEO about it."

‘And it’s at my house.’

A delayed realization flickered across his face, followed by an awkward chuckle. "Ah… I'm sorry I didn’t mean to grab you like that."

Se-hyeon didn’t bother saying, ‘It’s fine.’ After all, he wasn’t Yoo Jin-ha’s secretary. There was no need to consider his feelings.

"Did the CEO say anything else?"

"Why? Are you concerned?"

"No, it’s not that," Yoo Jin-ha murmured. "This is just the first time I’ve accepted a gift and then had to return it. I feel… bad about it."

“It would be best to tell the CEO directly about that.”

Se-hyeon wasn’t about to act as a messenger.

Yoo Jin-ha sighed, nodding in understanding. "Yeah… You're right. Sorry for bothering you about this."

Se-hyeon didn’t respond and simply stepped back, creating distance between them. But before he could fully disengage, Yoo Jin-ha spoke again.

"And… thanks."

Se-hyeon raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

However, Se-hyeon couldn't just let the expression of gratitude pass by. Se-hyeon looked at him with questioning eyes, but Yoo Jin-ha looked elsewhere for a moment. It seemed like he was trying to hide his embarrassment.

Noticing a slight flush on Yoo Jin-ha's cheeks, Se-hyeon took a step back without realizing it. Startled by the touch on his back, Jin-ha continued speaking without perceiving the presence of someone who had approached them while Yoo Jin-ha looked elsewhere.

Yoo Jin-ha averted his gaze, his ears slightly red.

"The porridge you bought for me that day. And the medicine."

Se-hyeon hadn’t expected him to bring that up. Before he could react—

"Yoo Jin-ha."

A familiar voice cut through the moment.

Se-hyeon turned to see Shin Tae-oh standing behind him.

"Your team is waiting for you over there."

"I'm sorry," Yoo Jin-ha responded automatically.

"No need to apologize. They're all taking care of you, so go and see them."

Shin Tae-oh’s expression softened, his tone warm and composed. "No need to apologize. They’re taking care of you—go see them."

It was subtle, but Se-hyeon saw the way Yoo Jin-ha responded to that gentler voice. Shin Tae-oh’s words had the desired effect, making the younger man momentarily relax.

"I'll buy you coffee later."

Yoo Jin-ha quickly uttered those words to Se-hyeon and headed towards where the team members were. Watching him, Se-hyeon became curious about Shin Tae-oh's intentions. Since they would all end up in the same place anyway, why did Tae-oh choose to send Yoo Jin-ha ahead?

"Did you buy porridge and medicine for Jin-ha?"

"Yes," Se-hyeon answered simply. "I gave it to him when I went to pick up the coffee machine."

Shin Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, his tone laced with something unreadable.

"How caring. My secretary is quite caring."

Se-hyeon frowned, sensing an odd undertone in his words. But before he could analyze it further, Shin Tae-oh redirected his gaze elsewhere.

"We’re going this way."

Se-hyeon glanced in the direction he indicated.

The place Shin Tae-oh pointed out was not where Se-hyeon would’ve expected. He hadn't expected the schedule arrangement had changed, but he still had to follow Shin Tae-oh and held his phone in hand. He hurriedly sent a message to the Chief Secretary, asking about the change in the schedule, but received no response.

—
Far away, high above the clouds, Lee Jin-ho sat on a plane, staring blankly at the misty landscape outside his window.

He was currently en route to another country… to buy sunflowers.

"Why do I have to fly all the way to the Netherlands just to buy a sunflower painting?"

He exhaled in frustration, remembering the CEO’s absurd order.

The request itself wasn’t impossible, but the schedule was ridiculous—fly in, purchase the reserved artwork, and immediately fly back. There was barely enough time to breathe, let alone eat anything other than airplane food.

Uncomfortably shifting in his seat, he switched his phone to airplane mode.

Before losing signal, he typed out a message to Shin Tae-oh.

"You sunflower-like human. Tremble under the shining stars and live alone for the rest of your life."

With a bitter smirk, he sent the message. A poetic curse, wrapped in an insult.

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon glanced at the unfamiliar setting. They were supposed to be seated elsewhere, but somehow, they had ended up in a completely different place. Frowning slightly, he sent a message to the Chief Secretary, but there was no response.

“Is this right?” he muttered under his breath.

Sitting at the table right behind Shin Tae-oh, Se-hyeon surveyed the round table, taking in the individuals gathered around it. He recognized them immediately.

‘Ha Jin-seong, Ha Jin-woong.’

It was unexpected to see the two antagonistic brothers at the same table, but what truly caught his attention was the whispered conversation between their bodyguards.

"One of the vacant seats is for Ha Min-hyuk."

Se-hyeon’s gaze sharpened. Ha Min-hyuk? That was already strange enough, but before he could dwell on it, a woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Do you not know who I am?”

A woman who wasn’t an important character in the original story sat across from them, speaking directly to Shin Tae-oh. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice carried an air of casual authority.

“I thought my dad had called in… I’m Jin Hye-in from the Jin-myeong Group.”

Se-hyeon remained silent, sensing it was a personal matter.

“I’m not aware,” Shin Tae-oh replied indifferently.

Jin Hye-in’s lips curled slightly before she turned her gaze toward Ha Jin-seong, who was seated beside her. The way they exchanged glances—familiar, effortless—it was clear they knew each other well. Too well.

Se-hyeon narrowed his eyes. Something felt off.

Ha Jin-seong despised Ha Min-hyuk. That much was well known. It was understandable—his younger brother was a direct threat to his hold over the family business. But then, why was he paying such close attention to Shin Tae-oh instead?

While conversing with Jin Hye-in, he kept glancing at Shin Tae-oh.

‘It would be troublesome if Ha Jin-seong gets involved.’

Then, as if reading his thoughts, Ha Jin-seong suddenly spoke.

“I heard you’re getting married.”

The words landed with an unexpected weight.

Se-hyeon’s breath hitched—not because of the smooth, deliberate tone in which they were spoken, but because of who Ha Jin-seong was looking at.

Not Jin Hye-in.

Shin Tae-oh.

Jin Hye-in immediately reacted, waving her hand dismissively. Jin Hye-in let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, Oppa? Why are you saying that here? That’s embarrassing.” She waved a hand dismissively, but noticeably, she didn’t deny it.

"Congratulations,” Ha Jin-seong said, a hint of amusement laced in his voice.

Se-hyeon shifted his gaze to Tae-oh, waiting for his reaction. His mind raced. Shin Tae-oh, getting married? He had thought his job was to protect him, but this was something entirely different.

Yet, if Tae-oh was affected by the statement, he didn’t show it. His expression remained unreadable as he exhaled slowly.

“Did I ever say I was getting married?”

His voice was calm, almost dismissive, but there was an underlying sharpness to it.

Se-hyeon clenched his fist unconsciously.

This wasn’t about Ha Min-hyuk anymore.

It was about Ha Jin-seong and Shin Tae-oh.

Since childhood, Ha Min-hyuk had always been cautious—too cautious. As an orphan, he had been careful with his words, hesitant with his actions, especially in front of Ha Jin-seong. He was intimidated, something he only overcame later in the plot line.

But Shin Tae-oh was different. He had no reason to be afraid of Ha Jin-seong, nor did he have any inclination to hold back.

More importantly, Se-hyeon knew for a fact that Shin Tae-oh wouldn’t marry Jin Hye-in.

Something in the original timeline had changed.

Tae-oh leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on Ha Jin-seong as he spoke.

“I was wondering why my seat suddenly changed.” A slow smirk appeared on his lips. “So, it was you, Ha Jin-seong.”

The eldest Ha brother showed no sign of denial. Instead, he shrugged, as if this had been the plan all along.

“I thought it would be nice to get to know each other before the wedding. It was my way of being considerate.”

His words were light, but his intent wasn’t. His sharp gaze flickered toward Jin Hye-in for just a moment, as if presenting her as proof of his sincerity.

But Tae-oh remained unimpressed.

His smirk deepened. “That cheekiness of yours is still the same, Jin-sang-ah.”
(note: in korean, the name jin-seong sounds similar to jin-saeng, which means pathetic or miserable in korean.)

Se-hyeon noticed the faint twitch in Ha Jin-seong’s jaw.

“You—call me by my name properly.”

Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness.
“Well, I was just returning the favor. You thought of me first, after all.” His voice carried an unmistakable taunt, his gaze unwavering. “But you really do think the world revolves around you, don’t you?
The tension at the table thickened.
Se-hyeon could feel the shift in power, subtle but undeniable.
Then, just as Ha Jin-seong seemed to gather himself to respond, Tae-oh added, almost lazily—
“You know, I came up with the word ‘Jin-sang’ just for you.”

Se-hyeon barely managed to suppress a snort, turning his head away to avoid giving himself away. The nickname Jin-sang—a play on Ha Jin-seong’s name that could also mean pathetic—was hardly creative, but the satisfaction of launching a second indirect attack was undeniable.

“Then, does that mean the nickname ‘Pervert’ came from you, LF?”
(note: byeon-tae…. Tae-oh… do you see the pattern?)
(note: "LF" is an abbreviation in gaming contexts, to refer to the term loser’s bracket final, which is the bracket in a tournament where all of those competitors have lost already. Ha Jin-seong called Shin Tae-oh a loser.)

Ha Jin-seong chuckled as if it were nothing, but Se-hyeon caught the flicker of discomfort in Shin Tae-oh’s expression. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but for someone who rarely let anything show, that tiny reaction was proof that Ha Jin-seong’s words had hit a nerve.

"Do you like imitating me that much?"

Tae-oh didn’t even bother laughing at the childish jab. They were grown men, yet their conversation felt like a battle of schoolyard taunts. And yet, surprisingly, just a few words had shifted the balance. Tae-oh leaned back, unbothered, while Ha Jin-seong—despite his nonchalant front—showed the slightest hint of unease.

One by one, the chatter around them died down. Even Jin Hye-in, who had been speaking animatedly just moments ago, fell silent. The tension in the room thickened.

Se-hyeon glanced around, not wanting to be caught in the verbal crossfire. As he was subtly assessing the situation, he met Shin Tae-oh’s gaze.

“Aren’t you thirsty?” Tae-oh asked.

Se-hyeon blinked, taken aback. “I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s fine.”

“I noticed you’ve been licking your lips,” Tae-oh said, setting the bottle down in front of him. “Drink.”

Se-hyeon hesitated.

‘Wait. Was I the one who needed the drink, not him?’

Maybe the tension had gotten to him more than he realized. As his fingers brushed against the bottle’s cold surface, he was just about to take it—

When Tae-oh pulled it back.

Se-hyeon instinctively looked up, confused. Without a word, Tae-oh grasped the cap with his free hand, twisted it, and with a soft pop, the lid came loose. Then, without so much as glancing at him, he slid the bottle forward again.

"Drink it."

Se-hyeon stared for a beat before finally accepting it. “…Thank you.”

There was no need for him to open it—he could have done that himself. It wasn’t just surprising to receive this kind of casual consideration from his superior, but the entire moment felt… strange.

And then he noticed it.

The stares.

Jin Hye-in, who had barely acknowledged his presence before, now looked at him with wide eyes as if she’d just realized something. Ha Jin-seong and Ha Jin-woong were watching with unreadable expressions, their gazes sharp with intrigue. Even others at the table—those who knew Shin Tae-oh well—seemed to be looking at him.

Se-hyeon froze slightly, still holding the bottle awkwardly.

Why was this such a big deal? He was just Tae-oh’s secretary. Was it that shocking for Tae-oh to hand him a drink?

Especially Jin Hye-in’s reaction—he couldn’t quite place why she seemed so taken aback.

"Do you want anything else?"

Tae-oh’s voice broke through his thoughts, his tone entirely indifferent. As if none of this mattered to him.

Se-hyeon quickly shook his head. "No, this is fine."

Without another word, he lifted the bottle and took a sip.

All the while, the silent scrutiny around him never wavered.

He could feel their eyes following every small movement, waiting, observing. The tension in the air was nearly suffocating.

Se-hyeon swallowed, resisting the urge to cough.

‘I hope there’s nothing weird in this drink.’

It was just water. If he swallowed it fast enough, it should be fine.

—
As the time for the presentation drew near, the last two empty seats were finally claimed.

Ha Min-hyuk entered first, firmly holding onto Yoo Jin-ha’s wrist, as if ensuring he wouldn’t slip away. Yoo Jin-ha, however, looked hesitant, his gaze flickering the moment he spotted Shin Tae-oh.

"You brought my employee."

Shin Tae-oh’s voice was calm, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable. It wasn’t a question—it was a quiet demand for an explanation. Was he supposed to assume they had already reconciled?

“We’re just switching seats,” Ha Min-hyuk replied smoothly, bowing his head slightly as a show of courtesy. “I hope you don’t mind.”

It was a request, yet there was a distinct lack of submission in his tone. A calculated politeness.

Tae-oh, already seated, merely leaned back and gestured toward the empty chair. “Go ahead.”

From the surface, their exchange appeared polite—almost professional. But Se-hyeon, watching from his place, could feel the unspoken tension crackling between them. He was probably the only one whose heart pounded in anticipation, knowing exactly what was happening beneath the surface.

The two men surrounding Yoo Jin-ha.

The silent battle between the two men who had feelings for Yoo Jin-ha was intriguing. It was more captivating than the conversation between Ha Jin-seong and Shin Tae-oh.

‘It should be interesting.’

Ha Min-hyuk and Shin Tae-oh.

Two men, now seated at the same table. Two men, with their unspoken claims on Yoo Jin-ha.

Se-hyeon gripped his empty water bottle, his excitement barely concealed. Now this—this was more interesting than whatever power struggle was going on between Ha Jin-seong and Shin Tae-oh earlier.

A silent battle.

Neither of them needed to raise their voices or exchange barbed words. The very act of sitting next to each other, both aware and yet oblivious to the emotions at play, was enough to make the air thick with intrigue.

It was moments like these that made being Shin Tae-oh’s secretary unexpectedly entertaining. No need to sneak glances from afar—he had a front-row seat to all the drama. His job satisfaction had never been higher.
Yoo Jin-ha, however, looked anything but pleased. He had clearly not come here of his own volition, and now, thanks to Shin Tae-oh’s silent acquiescence, he had no choice but to sit back down.

His discomfort was evident, but perhaps even more fascinating was the unknowing ignorance of the two men at his sides.

Because, Ha Min-hyuk didn’t know that Shin Tae-oh liked Yoo Jin-ha.
And Shin Tae-oh had no idea what had already transpired between Yoo Jin-ha and Ha Min-hyuk.

But Se-hyeon knew.

And that was what made all of this so damn entertaining.

It was the thrill of witnessing a tangled web of emotions unfold in real time. That’s what novels were like, after all. Characters only knew fragments, their own limited perspectives clouding their judgment. But a reader?

A reader saw the bigger picture.

And right now, Se-hyeon was that reader.

"Secretary Ahn."

Shin Tae-oh’s voice pulled him out of his musings.

"Yes, sir?"

“I understand that you’re my secretary, but don’t you think you’ve turned your chair a little too awkwardly?”

Se-hyeon blinked, suddenly realizing that in his eagerness to observe, he had literally turned himself away from his own assigned table.

He quickly straightened up, but he didn’t bother adjusting his position entirely.

“This is fine,” he said, brushing it off.

“It looks uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.”

A brief pause. Then—

“…But I’m not okay with it.”

Shin Tae-oh’s words were muttered just loud enough for Se-hyeon to hear.

Se-hyeon, deciding it was best to pretend he hadn’t, ignored it.

Chapter Text

"Bringing just anyone here—does your background make you that careless?"

Ha Jin-seong’s voice cut through the room, his words laced with venom. Ha Min-hyuk barely flinched, but the sharp sting of those words was unmistakable.

‘Interesting observation.’

Beside Jin-seong, Ha Jin-woong smirked, adding fuel to the fire.

"That old hag always sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong."

No need to guess who he meant—Ha Min-hyuk’s birth mother.

‘Now this is fun to watch.’

"That’s the problem with clueless bastards." Jin-seong sighed mockingly. "Do you think beating them will actually make them any smarter?"

"Oh, Oppa," Jin Hye-in interjected smoothly, a playful lilt in her voice. "So the ‘dog’ you were talking about earlier wasn’t actually a dog?"

‘This was incredibly thrilling.’

The casual cruelty of their banter was almost fascinating.

And Se-hyeon?

He was loving every second of it.

His eyes darted between them, absorbing every exchange. What had once been just text in a novel was now unfolding in real-time before his eyes. This was better than any drama—he had front-row seats to the chaos.

Ha Jin-seong and Ha Jin-woong were dangerous yet predictable opponents. They were easy because they wore their hostility openly—their words sharp, their motives clearer than glass. But that also made them dangerous. Unlike hidden enemies who struck in the dark, these two wielded their resentment like a dagger, aiming to wound in plain sight.

‘They were the ones behind the previous incident, too.’

A forced kiss. A misunderstanding. A fractured relationship.

That night, a man had cornered Ha Min-hyuk, trying to kiss him against his will. Yoo Jin-ha had seen it and fled in shock. And even though Min-hyuk had caught up to him, desperately explaining the truth, Jin-ha hadn’t believed him. Their relationship had cracked, shaken by doubt.

And the man responsible? One of Ha Jin-woong’s accomplices.

‘They must know they’re villains, considering how hard they’re trying to look the part.’

The twins, Ha Jin-seong and Ha Jin-woong, shared a striking resemblance—sharp, upturned eyes and cruelly curved lips. But if one had to differentiate them, Jin-seong had a fox-like sharpness, while Jin-woong was more bear-like, his bulk adding weight to his intimidation.

And then there was Ha Min-hyuk.

Only half-related to them, he was visibly different—his features more refined, his build leaner. Though he wasn’t as tall or broad as Shin Tae-oh, his face was strikingly well-defined.

But even Min-hyuk couldn’t compare to Shin Tae-oh.

And Shin Tae-oh was a problem.

Se-hyeon had understood Min-hyuk’s character design—handsome, as expected of the male lead. And of course the second male lead had to match that level… but he exceeded it by far.

‘No matter what, isn’t he just too good-looking?’

How difficult must it be to reject someone who looked like that? How did Yoo Jin-ha even manage it?

Unconsciously, Se-hyeon tapped his notepad, barely registering the words on the screen about the new product presentation. His mind was elsewhere, stuck in the tangled web of personal conflicts playing out before him.

‘Shin Tae-oh is handsome. Handsome Shin Tae-oh. What would life be like if he looked like Shin Tae-oh?’

Then—

"It's okay. Stay seated."

Ha Min-hyuk’s voice was coaxing, his hand lightly pressing down on Yoo Jin-ha’s wrist.

"But that’s not right."

Se-hyeon shook his head internally. ‘Min-hyuk, you’re being too stubborn.’

He knew exactly why Min-hyuk had brought Yoo Jin-ha here—it wasn’t just to show off their relationship, but to solidify it in front of these people. But forcing Jin-ha into this situation? Not a great move.

And Jin-seong and Jin-woong knew it.

They were deliberately using Yoo Jin-ha to tear Min-hyuk down. The tension at the table felt like a loaded gun, waiting to go off.

“That’s why one’s background matters,” Ha Jin-woong sneered. “That’s why, in the old days, nobility married each other—”

"Enough."

Ha Ji-woong flinched, glaring at Shin Tae-oh, who had finally spoken up.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t even look at him—just dismissed him as if he was nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing in his ear.

"Why do you talk so much?"

The room went still.

Se-hyeon, barely holding in his amusement, watched Jin-woong bristle at the casual dismissal.

‘Ah, Tae-oh. Why did you intervene? Is it because Jin-ha is upset? Even if it's not you, Ha Min-hyuk... Ah, I see now.’

He finally understood. Tae-oh had stepped in not out of personal concern, but because he understood the dynamics at play. Shin Tae-oh intervened because if it were Min-hyuk who stepped up to protect Yoo Jin-ha, Jin-ha would only fall for him more.

‘So that’s why you couldn’t stand by.’

"Shin Tae-oh."

Jin-seong stepped forward, taking Jin-woong’s place. His voice was low, warning.

"Don’t interfere."

Shin Tae-oh, unbothered, simply tilted his head.

"I“I was just watching,” he said smoothly. “Ready to congratulate you if there was something worth celebrating.”

A mocking retort—turning their earlier words against them.

Jin-seong’s eyes narrowed. "There’s no need for you to congratulate me on family matters."

"Oh, really?" Tae-oh tilted his head slightly, his voice still light. "Then perhaps you should handle your family matters somewhere else. It’s noisy."

Jin-seong’s patience frayed at the seams.

Se-hyeon, watching from the sidelines, bit back a grin.

‘God, this is gold.’

"It’s fine for brothers to joke around, but do it elsewhere. It’s noisy."

“You—”

Ha Jin-seong’s glare darkened at being equated with Ha Min-hyuk. But Tae-oh, as always, was unaffected.

"Do as you please."

Turning around Ha Jin-seong’s sarcastic remark about marrying Jin Hye-on, Shin Tae-oh responded in such a way.

Se-hyeon shook his head inwardly. This was Shin Tae-oh’s victory. Since he had been suppressing Ha Jin-seong earlier, it was reasonable to assume that the situation was over.

‘My only source of entertainment has come to an end.’

What a pity.

Now all Se-hyeon had left to do was to listen to boring explanations about new products. He was looking forward to it today. As he turned his head away disappointedly, his gaze met each of the two people in turn.

First, Jin Hye-in, who was looking at him strangely for some reason, and then Ha Jin-seong, who was looking for a target to take out his frustration because of Shin Tae-oh.

‘Shit.’

“Secretary?”

In response to Ha Jin-seong’s question, Se-hyeon lightly pressed his lips and lowered his head.

"As a secretary who is even given drinks by the CEO... Now that I think about it, I think I’ve seen you somewhere."

As Ha Jin-seong narrowed his eyes, deep in thought, Jin Hye-in leaned closer and whispered to him, all the while not diverting her gaze from him.

‘Why am I feeling uneasy?’

Se-hyeon thought something unexpected was going to happen, so he glanced at Shin Tae-oh without realizing it.

This was all because of Shin Tae-oh.

Why did he have to interfere in the fight between the Ha brothers? And amidst all this, Shin Tae-oh had a faint smile as if he found it amusing.

‘When that dumb tae-nyang said he had fallen for me, it was really just an impulse.’

It seemed like it was a very good thing that Shin Tae-oh intervened to protect Yoo Jin-ha — Yeah, it was a good thing that he didn’t accept his confession.

"To think you went to the hotel together. They must be really close."

Ha Jin-seong immediately spoke up probably after finding a means to attack through Jin Hye-in, that crazy obsessive lady who was in love with Tae-oh. Se-hyeon clenched his fist tightly, forcing himself to turn his head away.

‘Why am I getting so worked up over something so petty and easy to ignore?’

While reading the novel, Se-hyeon lagged at the villain’s childish lines. He thought they were too one-dimensional, but it was different when he’s experiencing this first hand.

‘Ha… simple words seem to hit more.’

"Your eyes and nose are out of proportion, and your lips are quite thick. How does it feel to look like that?" Rather than an insult like that, it was so much easier to be affected by the words, "You're so damn ugly!" It was that kind of feeling.

'Him mentioning the hotel will imply something about our relationship. Seriously, what am I supposed to do?'

At this moment, Se-hyeon had to do his best to bury his feelings and figure out a way to sort out the situation.

"Jin-seong-ah."

Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to Shin Tae-oh’s affectionate voice calling out to Ha Jin-seong.

"I can't stand those bastards who judge and expose others based on their background. Do you understand what I mean?"

Ha Jin-seong's face hardened at the blatant venomous threat in Shin Tae-oh's gentle tone.

"It means I won't just sit back and watch if anyone messes with what's mine."

Ha Jin-seong closed his mouth. Faced with the warning that Shin Tae-oh wouldn't just sit back if he used Se-hyeon to attack Shin Tae-oh in the same way he used Yoo Jin-ha to attack Ha Min-hyuk, Jin-seong couldn’t help but scoff.

'Should I do something?'

Shin Tae-oh had remained silent when they used Jin-ha as a means to attack Ha Min-hyuk, but he acted immediately upon hearing any implications about Se-hyeon… How in the world is he supposed to interpret Tae-oh’s reaction?

It was when Se-hyeon looked around with a complicated gaze.

‘Ha Min-hyuk.’

Ha Min-hyuk's expression was strange. His eyes scrambled around as if he was looking for something. Se-hyeon was racking his brain on why Ha Min-hyuk was behaving like that when he realized it belatedly.

He was waiting for an opportunity. That was why Ha Min-hyuk hadn’t tried to defend Yoo Jin-ha.

Even in the original work, this was a moment that was at a turning point with a plot twist… Why did he only realize this now?

Se-hyeon turned his head following Ha Min-hyuk’s gaze, then— the doors opened.

A legion led by elderly individuals whom he was completely unfamiliar with walked into the room. It included Chairman Ha Cheol-kyu, Ha Min-hyuk's grandfather, along with Jin Myung Group's chairman and his wife, as well as the chairman of SR Group, Jeong Mi-jeong.

"Ah."

Se-hyeon barely registered them, too busy watching Shin Tae-oh’s expression. For the first time since this confrontation began, Shin Tae-oh actually looked pissed off. He had just lost control over the steering wheel of the atmosphere.

Chapter Text

Jin Hye-in had arrived brimming with anticipation. Ha Jin-seong had promised her an introduction to Shin Tae-oh, a man whose reputation alone sparked curiosity. But now, seated among the others, she felt the sting of disappointment.

She had caught glimpses of him before, fleeting moments where their paths crossed. Each time, she had wondered—would he recognize her? Would there be even the slightest flicker of acknowledgment in his gaze? But when their eyes finally met, the answer was clear.

Nothing.

Not a hint of recognition, not even the polite pretense of familiarity.

’Fine. It happens.’

Honestly, She had prepared for this possibility. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t devastating. All she had to do was remind him—reintroduce herself, lay out who she was.

But even then, nothing changed.

If anything, the absence of reaction was worse than not being recognized at all. It stripped away the illusion that perhaps he simply hadn't noticed her before. No, he saw her now. He knew who she was. And still, he remained utterly indifferent.

Tae-oh, with his cool detachment, might have thought his behavior was natural. Why should he show interest in someone who meant nothing to him? But to Jin Hye-in, it was infuriating. It was one thing to be overlooked—it was another to be dismissed.

’Does he even realize how rare it is for someone like me to be ignored?’

Irritation simmered beneath her poised expression. Instead of wasting her time on him, she turned her full attention to Ha Jin-seong, pointedly excluding Shin Tae-oh from the conversation. If he wasn’t going to acknowledge her, she would act as though he didn’t exist either..

The result was, of course, a failure.

No matter how much she tried to feign disinterest, the frustration lingered. And then, something caught her eye—Shin Tae-oh, standing up to pour a drink.

Though, at first, she barely paid attention. But as she followed his movements, her gaze shifted to the person receiving it. A young man with an elegant, refined appearance—clean-cut rather than ostentatious, with an air of quiet composure. His expression was unreadable, as if he existed just slightly apart from the scene around him.

Jin Hye-in narrowed her eyes.

'Wait. It’s him.'

It was the person who had walked together with Shin Tae-oh at the hotel. The companion from that day who had made her realize that Shin Tae-oh wasn't an eunuch.

'Wait, was he a secretary?'

Memories flickered—images of that night at the hotel, the moment she first saw Shin Tae-oh with someone at his side. She had thought nothing of it at the time, assuming it was a passing acquaintance. But now, as she watched Shin Tae-oh personally serve the man, a realization clicked into place.

Him.

The same person.

She had thought Shin Tae-oh was completely uninterested in anyone, but that night…

He was different with him.

Jin Hye-in’s lips curled into a smirk.

'Who goes to such lengths for a mere secretary?'

The answer was simple: no one. At least, not someone like Shin Tae-oh—who never lifted a finger for others unless they were truly significant to him.

She watched them closely, the way the secretary spoke to him, the way Shin Tae-oh responded. It was subtle, but there was something there.

Just then, her phone vibrated. A message from her father’s secretary.

Her smirk deepened.

"Oppa, Jin-seong."

She leaned in, her voice a whisper laced with amusement.

"Call the secretary away. Get him to leave."

She had no doubt that Ha Jin-seong would do exactly as she asked. He had been eyeing the secretary with barely concealed curiosity himself.

This night was about to get much more interesting.

—
With the arrival of the towering figures at the chairman level, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Ha Jin-seong, who had been sulking moments ago, fell silent, as if the weight of their presence had pressed down on him. Jin Hye-in, in contrast, seemed pleased—her composure smoothing into something close to satisfaction now that someone from her side had arrived.

Shin Tae-oh, however, looked anything but comfortable.

Not a single person could speak up.

It wasn’t just the overwhelming presence of high-ranking executives that stifled conversation. The tension ran deeper—these weren’t just corporate titans; they were their parents. That unspoken weight, the unshakable authority of blood and legacy, cast an unusual stillness over the gathering.

On stage, Ha Min-hyuk stepped up to the podium and began his presentation on the new product. As he spoke, the chairman of Jinmyung Group casually approached Chairman Ha Cheol-kyu, breaking the silence with a pointed remark.

"I hear your son caused quite the stir this time. The pre-orders were no joke, right?"

Chairman Ha Cheol-kyu responded with a practiced air of indifference, though a subtle note of pride crept into his tone.

"It's not bad. About two million units so far. But of course, we’ll need to push for more sales moving forward."

"A so-called big hit, huh?"

The numbers spoke for themselves. Given the company’s ability to compare sales by model, it was clear just how well Ha Min-hyuk's new product had performed. And considering this was the beginning of a planned series, its long-term value was even greater.

It was easy to see why Ha Jin-seong resented him.

’So this is what fueled his bitterness toward Ha Min-hyuk.’

With Min-hyuk’s success, the obstacles ahead would only grow—competition, expectations, scrutiny. And beside him, Yoo Jin-ha would inevitably be swept into that turbulent path.

’But after all the hardship, there will be a reward.’

Or at least, that was the thought lingering in Se-hyeon’s mind. A thought that dissolved the moment he caught sight of Ha Jin-seong.

Because Jin-seong wasn’t looking at Min-hyuk.

He was looking at him.

’Why…’

A shiver ran down Se-hyeon's spine as their gazes locked.

Why is he looking at me?

—
Once they were free to speak openly, Chairman Ha’s secretary gestured toward a nearby area.

“Secretary Se-hyeon, I heard the banquet hall has been prepared. Let’s head there.”

Thankfully, a post-event gathering had been arranged after the presentation, offering a convenient diversion.

“Just a moment, let me check,” Se-hyeon said with a sigh, watching as Ha Jin-seong walked away without so much as a glance after saying his piece.

Se-hyeon had no interest in engaging with him. If anything, he knew that getting involved with Ha Jin-seong would only lead to trouble. Instead, he focused on his duties, quickening his pace as he followed Shin Tae-oh, who was walking in step with the chairman.

Then, he noticed something that made him frown.

Ha Jin-seong was waiting for him.

Leaning against the wall, hands stuffed into his pockets, he made no move to acknowledge Se-hyeon's approach. He simply stood there, his head tilted slightly, staring into space with an unfocused gaze.

"How long have you been working under Shin Tae-oh?"

"Three years."

“Oh, I see. Judging by how close you are to him, you must be good at your job.” A pause. Then, an unexpected proposition. “Do you have any thoughts about working for me?”

Se-hyeon blinked. Just a moment ago, Ha Jin-seong had barely spared him a glance, and now he was suddenly trying to scout him?

“I’m sorry,” Se-hyeon replied, keeping his tone polite but firm.

“Why? Worried I won’t take care of you?” Ha Jin-seong’s lips curled into an amused smirk. “I can take care of you well. And if you want, I can even give you a kiss.”

Se-hyeon stiffened.

‘This…?’

["How long have you been dating Shin Tae-oh? Do you have any thoughts about being with me?"]

["I can take care of you well too. And if you want, I can even give you a kiss."]

The words struck him as oddly familiar.

‘Wait. I’ve seen these exact lines in the original work.’

Could it be that this two-time villain was actually this unoriginal?

At least Shin Tae-oh’s character had been somewhat refreshing in the original story…

Suppressing a sigh, Se-hyeon quickly lowered his head, wondering how long he would have to reject Ha Jin-seong before he finally backed off.

Then, an idea struck him. Without hesitation, he lifted his phone to his ear and spoke with deliberate urgency.

“Yes, Chairman.”

He kept his voice steady, pretending as though he had just received an important call. It was the perfect excuse—one that even Ha Jin-seong wouldn’t be able to dismiss easily.

Se-hyeon shot him a silent apology before turning away.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be leaving soon.”

With that, he walked off, putting as much distance as possible between himself and Ha Jin-seong.

‘Why is he like that?’

Se-hyeon didn’t understand the sudden shift in behavior, nor did he want to. If he was lucky, this would be the last time they crossed paths.

—

When Se-hyeon returned to where Shin Tae-oh was, he immediately sensed the strange tension in the air. He glanced around, taking in the scene.

Shin Tae-oh’s mother stood with the chairman of Jinmyung Group. Jin Hye-in was also present, and judging by the atmosphere, it felt like an important introduction was taking place. The weight of the moment pressed down on the group, making it difficult to breathe.

Instinctively, Se-hyeon positioned himself behind Shin Tae-oh.

As he tried to piece together what was happening, Chairman Jin-myung, his face slightly flushed, spoke up, his words making Se-hyeon’s stomach turn.

“So, is it really that difficult to tell me who you’re dating?”

What nonsense was this?

Se-hyeon blinked, taking a step to the side. He glanced at Shin Tae-oh’s profile before shifting his gaze toward Yoo Jin-ha, who stood at a distance.

‘Come to think of it…’

Se-hyeon recalled a conversation from when Shin Tae-oh had returned from headquarters—he had mentioned that his mother had urged him to start dating immediately.

‘But Yoo Jin-ha is officially dating Ha Min-hyuk right now.’

Ha Min-hyuk, despite working for a different company, had forcefully brought Yoo Jin-ha here to introduce him to the chairman. If that was the case, then revealing Yoo Jin-ha’s connection to Shin Tae-oh here was out of the question.

“Ahem. If I may ask,” Chairman Jin-myung continued, his voice carrying a weight of insinuation, “is the person you went to the hotel with the same one you’re dating? I apologize if I’m being impolite.”

‘Hotel?’

Se-hyeon stiffened. Where had that come from? His mind raced, trying to make sense of the mention of a hotel—until he felt a sharp gaze on him.

Jin Hye-in.

She was staring at him with an oddly knowing expression, making his skin prickle with unease.

“You seem to be aware that it is impolite,” Shin Tae-oh’s mother remarked coldly, her voice laced with irritation.

Se-hyeon’s thoughts spun wildly, pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.

‘Hold on. Shin Tae-oh’s mother told him to start dating immediately. Now Chairman Jin-myung is asking if it was the person he went to the hotel with. As far as I know, Shin Tae-oh has only been to a hotel once recently, and that day… I was with him.’

His eyes widened in realization.

‘No way.’

He turned sharply to Jin Hye-in. Had she seen him enter the hotel with Shin Tae-oh? Was that why she was acting like this?

‘So that’s why Ha Jin-seong suddenly took an interest in me. That’s why he wanted me involved in his schemes.’

Then that meant Shin Tae-oh—

‘Ah, this guy is really…’

Even though he was well aware that his mother was in an awkward position, he remained silent, unwilling to clarify anything.

Se-hyeon clenched his jaw. He could stay quiet, but if Jin Hye-in brought up his name, this silence could turn into a much bigger issue.

If Shin Tae-oh wasn’t going to speak up, then—

“Secretary Ahn, please go and take care of your business,” Shin Tae-oh suddenly said.

Se-hyeon looked up, meeting his gaze.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what’s happening here.”

His voice was calm, yet there was something oddly gentle in the way he looked at him. As if he had already noticed Se-hyeon’s hesitation.

‘Should I really leave?’

Shin Tae-oh smiled politely. “Chairman, let’s talk separately.”

“I don’t particularly feel like having a private conversation with the CEO alone,” the older man scoffed.

“Then should we just let it go? You’re giving me a favorable offer.”

At Shin Tae-oh’s composed response, Chairman Jin-myung cleared his throat, his sharp gaze narrowing. It was evident he was weighing the benefits.

“This may seem like stubbornness from us older folks,” he admitted, “but in truth, it’s about securing the future of the business…”

As he spoke, he reached up, as if intending to place a hand on Shin Tae-oh’s shoulder, only to pause awkwardly due to their height difference. Instead, he let his arm drop but continued talking endlessly, clearly sensing that the matter would soon be resolved.

‘This really isn’t my business.’

Shin Tae-oh had no personal connection to him, and dragging Yoo Jin-ha into the situation was out of the question. It wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then…

Jin Hye-in brushed past him.

“This topic is closed then.”

Her voice carried a triumphant lilt, but it was her next words that made Se-hyeon freeze.

“Prepare your resignation letter. I have no intention of letting a secretary accompany my husband to a love hotel.”

Jin Hye-in had openly stated that she would cut me off.

Se-hyeon’s breath caught.

‘So, does that mean…?’

Jin Hye-in wasn’t just making a scene—she was actively trying to cut him off.

‘She wants me to quit this sweet job?’

Not Shin Tae-oh, not the chairman, but Jin Hye-in was the one threatening the stability of his carefully built life?

For the first time in a long while, a rush of excitement bubbled within Se-hyeon.

Lifting his head, he let out a low, amused laugh.

“CEO Shin Tae-oh.”

The room stilled.

At the sound of his voice—neither loud nor soft—Shin Tae-oh halted his steps.

Ignoring Jin Hye-in’s glare, Se-hyeon met his gaze directly.

Chapter Text

There were two things Se-hyeon had come to accept while living in this world.

The first was that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape his trait as an omega.
The second was that Shin Tae-oh would never develop feelings for Jin Hye-in.

That meant one thing—if Se-hyeon cut off the relationship between Shin Tae-oh and Jin Hye-in, Shin Tae-oh wouldn’t care.

With that realization, Se-hyeon looked at Shin Tae-oh, who had now turned toward him, and considered the most frustrating way to provoke Jin Hye-in.

Maybe he could dramatically call out, "Darling, hold my hand."

Or perhaps he could run toward Shin Tae-oh with urgency, shout, "Stop right there! I'll come and give you a passionate kiss!"

Not bad. But not ideal.

Blindly blurting out something ridiculous could backfire.

First, there were professional boundaries—Se-hyeon was a secretary. If he caused a public scene, the repercussions would ultimately land on his boss, who relied on him.

Second, there was his personal preference at play.

It wouldn’t be fun if I revealed everything all at once.

So instead, Se-hyeon’s gaze shifted to Jin Hye-in, standing behind Shin Tae-oh. He parted his lips deliberately.

"CEO Shin Tae-oh…"

He enunciated the full title with care.

"Your… husband-to-be is looking for you."

"What?"

Jin Hye-in reacted first, her face hardening in disbelief. She seemed to reject Se-hyeon's confident statement outright, as if refusing to acknowledge it.

One of Shin Tae-oh’s eyebrows quirked upward slightly, but Se-hyeon remained composed. He continued his lie with practiced ease.

"Shall I tell him to wait?"

The stage was set. Now, it was up to his boss to play along—or not.

Shin Tae-oh glanced at Se-hyeon, his gaze unreadable. Then, after a moment’s pause, he nodded.

"Let's go now."

"Understood."

Without hesitation, Se-hyeon turned and walked out, his exit swift and controlled. But as he passed Jin Hye-in, he caught the muttered words under her breath.

"Husband-to-be?"

Se-hyeon met her gaze, his expression giving nothing away.

"I can’t provide you with detailed information."

Jin Hye-in scoffed, folding her arms. "So it isn’t you?"

If she was trying to sever his ties to Shin Tae-oh, it was only natural that she’d want to know who the supposed fiancé was.

Under Jin Hye-in’s piercing gaze, Se-hyeon straightened his posture even more.

If you hadn’t started threatening to fire me, I wouldn’t have interfered.

He had no interest in fighting Shin Tae-oh’s battles. But he wasn’t about to let Jin Hye-in threaten his livelihood.

Caught up in the satisfaction of outmaneuvering her, Se-hyeon failed to notice his surroundings—until a firm grip closed around his wrist.

Before he could react, he was pulled aside with sudden force. Thrown off balance, he stumbled slightly, but Shin Tae-oh’s strong grip kept him upright.

"Come here."

Shin Tae-oh’s long strides didn’t falter, dragging Se-hyeon along without hesitation. By the time they stopped, the sound of their footsteps had changed, echoing sharply against concrete walls.

Se-hyeon looked up, his breathing slightly uneven.

A sign loomed behind Shin Tae-oh, bright green and unmistakable—a running figure marked the emergency staircase.

A sign loomed behind Shin Tae-oh, bright green and unmistakable—a running figure marked the emergency staircase.

Shin Tae-oh had dragged him here of all places?

"Now that I think about it," Shin Tae-oh mused, his tone casual, "some people freeze when things don’t go their way."

Se-hyeon frowned. "Did I say something?"

Shin Tae-oh ignored him. "Fiancé, lover—those are common terms. But husband-to-be…" He tilted his head slightly. "Don’t you think that’s a bit odd?"

"Ah…"

Now Se-hyeon understood why Shin Tae-oh was acting this way.

He had deliberately called him a husband-to-be to irritate Jin Hye-in.

At the time, it had seemed like the perfect counter to her confidently claiming Shin Tae-oh as her husband. But now that he has to explain it to Shin Tae-oh…

"Where is this prospective husband?" Shin Tae-oh continued, his voice smooth. "Here? Or perhaps…" He leaned slightly closer. "Is it you, standing in front of me, that husband-to-be?"

"..."

Se-hyeon decided he wasn’t going to answer that.

If he opened his mouth now, he might blurt out something stupid like, "When did Jin Hye-in even say that?"

So instead, he took the safest route.

"I apologize for lying."

He bowed his head, ready to put this entire situation behind him.

"Apologizing for lying," Shin Tae-oh murmured, "even though it wasn’t a lie."

Se-hyeon blinked. What?

Why wasn't it a lie?

Then, it clicked. Shin Tae-oh must be thinking about Yoo Jin-ha. If that was the case, then from his perspective, what Se-hyeon said could technically be seen as true.

[note: oh hell nah hes dense as hell BROOO AND HE ALREADY CONFESSED ONCE TOO. he was cooking and burnt the bacon guys just give him a little time]

"Well done."

Shin Tae-oh patted Se-hyeon’s shoulder, his expression unreadable.

"Uh… Thank you?"

Finding the compliment oddly strange, Se-hyeon nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his gaze to the side. He couldn’t look directly at Shin Tae-oh.

It wasn’t even a particularly great compliment, yet—

His heart fluttered, just once.

The cause of this feeling was obvious.

Why am I so moved by this…?

He had just put Shin Tae-oh in an awkward position by lying in front of the chairman of Jinmyung Group, yet instead of reprimanding him, he had praised him. That alone was unexpectedly… touching.

"Shouldn’t we go back now?"

Se-hyeon adjusted his tie, trying to shake off the strange sensation tightening in his chest.

Shin Tae-oh shook his head. "Forget today. Next time, let’s focus on finding a real fiancé."

Se-hyeon exhaled, relieved at the excuse to leave. "Understood."

He opened the door wide and walked off without looking back.

Let’s just call that feeling the secretary’s desire for recognition from his boss.

Yes. Strictly speaking, that was all it was.

No need to dwell on it.

As Se-hyeon disappeared down the hall, Shin Tae-oh remained in place, watching the spot where he had vanished.

His fingers absentmindedly brushed against his chin.

"I can’t tell from his expression…"

Se-hyeon had always been difficult to read. Whether in pain or in distress, he rarely let his emotions show. It was an admirable skill for a secretary.

But just now, when Se-hyeon had turned away to avoid eye contact—

His ears had turned red.

A slow smile tugged at the corners of Shin Tae-oh’s lips.

"Secretary Ahn is shy."

For the first time, Se-hyeon—who was always composed and professional—had shown an unexpectedly vulnerable side.

Shin Tae-oh thought about it for a moment, testing different descriptions in his mind.

"An embarrassed cat… A shy cat with flushed ears…"

Nothing quite fit.

Until—

His lips curved slightly as he settled on the one that felt just right.

"A blushing cat?"

Without mentioning the ears, the nickname became cuter.

Shin Tae-oh tilted his head.

Wasn’t he just adorable?

—
While Se-hyeon was tidying up his desk, the SR chairman’s secretary—who was temporarily covering for him—approached with a message.

"Chairman Jeong is looking for you."

Shin Tae-oh, who had secretly planned to leave with Se-hyeon, hesitated for a moment before realizing he had no choice.

"Where is she?"

"She’s waiting in the car in the basement."

"Understood. I'll head down myself. Take care of my secretary in the meantime."

With a simple wave of his hand, Shin Tae-oh dismissed the secretary and turned toward the elevator. The other man, seeing him off, headed into the banquet hall to find Se-hyeon.

Descending to the basement, Shin Tae-oh spotted the familiar sedan and pulled open the door—only to find the seat empty.

Before he could react, a hand swung toward him.

"Ow!"

Pain flared across his back, and he let out an exaggerated yelp.

"Well done. Very well."

Shin Tae-oh winced, his expression twisting. "Do you know it's rude to hit someone where it already hurts?"

"After what you did, you're good at choosing where to hit. I've been looking for a partner for a long time, and you brought me a lying scoundrel!"

Jeong Mi-jeong, chairman of SR and Shin Tae-oh’s mother, scoffed. "After what you pulled, I think I picked the perfect spot. I've been searching for a suitable partner for you, and you bring me—what? A lying scoundrel?"

Clearly still fuming over the earlier incident, she landed a few more sharp pushes on his back before realizing they were drawing attention. With a forceful shove, she ushered him into the car.

Despite his large frame, Shin Tae-oh maneuvered himself inside with practiced ease, though he couldn't suppress a grimace. His back was burning.

"You wound me," he said, tone dripping with faux indignation.

Jeong Mi-jeong folded her arms. "Then tell me—who exactly is this husband-to-be?"

"You saw him."

"What?"

Her sharp gaze demanded clarification, but Shin Tae-oh merely pressed his lips together, refusing to elaborate.

"Why aren’t you answering?" she pressed.

"Because I’m not sure yet," he admitted. Then, as if to change the subject, he added, "How’s Jinmyeong’s side of things?"

Jeong Mi-jeong exhaled sharply. "The last time, I turned them down by saying you had a lover. This time, I rejected them because you supposedly have a fiancé. Do you realize how much pride they have? How do you expect them to back down quietly?"

"Well, he rejected me anyway."

His response was nonchalant, indifferent even.

Jeong Mi-jeong sighed, rubbing her temples. "I used to think you were so mature when you were younger..."

As the words left her mouth, realization struck, and she fell silent. The atmosphere shifted. Her sharp, questioning gaze softened slightly.

Shin Tae-oh, who had been staring ahead, lowered his head.

"Whether its then and now," he said quietly, "I’m simply living according to my age."

Jeong Mi-jeong studied him for a long moment before speaking again.

"So, do you really not have anyone you’re seeing? Or… do you just not know yet?"

A pause.

Shin Tae-oh’s answer, when it came, was almost offhand. "I don’t have anyone right now. And... I’m not sure yet."

His mother’s face remained unreadable, but her voice carried a weight of concern.

"If you’re still unsure about your own feelings…"

"It’s my heart. If I don’t know, who else would?"

"Tae-oh."

"There’s no point in turning this into a therapy session if it’s not going to lead to a solution," he said lightly. "Trust your son. Just like…"

He reached out, pulling Jeong Mi-jeong a little closer, as if to reassure her. His voice, however, was quieter, tinged with something unreadable.

"I will become someone who is loved."

Chapter Text

The conversation with Jeong Mi-jeong had unexpectedly become an opportunity for Shin Tae-oh to unearth a long-buried truth—one he had never spoken aloud, not even to himself.

The world had always felt slightly out of reach for him. He was born into a privileged family, yet his parents were perpetually busy.

There were always people around—caretakers, mentors, employees—but none who truly stayed. They all watched the clock, waiting for their working hours to end.

The friend he had cherished most had chosen someone else.

That was the pattern of his life. No matter what he did or who he was with, someone else always took center stage. At first, it felt unfair. He used to wonder—why couldn't he be the main character for once? Why was he always the extra in someone else’s story?

But then he realized—none of it mattered unless someone acknowledged it.

Just one step. One small gap. And yet, the world kept slipping away from him. Eventually, he stopped trying. He accepted that there would always be someone better, someone more important, someone the world revolved around.

From that moment on, he stopped expecting anything. He learned to keep people at arm’s length and never felt disappointed when they drifted away.

Giving up was easier.

And so, little by little, he became accustomed to a life of surrender. But in doing so, he also lost things he hadn’t even known he could have—things like being loved, being someone's only one. He didn’t know what love truly was, and it didn’t matter. He would go his entire life without knowing.

By the time his parents realized the state he was in, it was already too late. Panicked, they took him to specialists, sought counseling. But none of it made a difference.

On the surface, Shin Tae-oh was perfectly fine. He had no delusions, no symptoms that fit neatly into a diagnosis. He was simply… detached. No treatment could reverse something that had settled so deeply into his bones.

The cruel irony was that the people who left him when he wanted them to stay were the same people who hovered suffocatingly close when he wished to be alone. The contradiction gnawed at him, day after day.

Like today.

‘Yoo Jin-hyeon?’

‘He went out. Someone called him.’

Shin Tae-oh nodded at the answer and turned to leave.

‘I'll go.’

‘Already?’

There was no reason to stay if Yoo Jin-hyeon wasn’t here—not even after making the effort to come all this way, sweat clinging to his back. But that was how it always was.

Just as he was about to step out, a voice called after him.

‘Tae-oh hyung.’

He turned. Yoo Jin-ha was watching him.

‘Aren't you hungry? Let’s have some ramyun.’

‘Ramyun?’

‘Seems like too much for me to eat alone.’

Now that he thought about it, Yoo Jin-hyeon had summoned him here so abruptly that he hadn’t eaten anything yet. Still, sitting down to eat with Yoo Jin-ha felt... unfamiliar. They had never been alone together before.

Sensing his hesitation, Yoo Jin-ha didn't wait for a response.

‘Come and sit. I'll turn on the air conditioner.’

Though smaller than his peers, Yoo Jin-ha moved with a quiet confidence as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Shin Tae-oh considered offering to help but stopped himself. Sixteen-year-olds were perfectly capable of making ramyun.

So instead, he sat at the small dining table attached to the kitchen and watched.

Yoo Jin-ha moved with ease—retrieving bowls, filling them with water, cooking the noodles. He worked quickly, methodically. For some reason, it wasn’t boring to watch. On the contrary, it felt... strange.

Strange that Yoo Jin-ha was cooking for him.

Strange that he was bothering at all.

He wasn’t responsible for Shin Tae-oh’s meals, and Shin Tae-oh had come here for Yoo Jin-hyeon, not him. Yet here they were.

The pot clinked as Yoo Jin-ha poured steaming noodles into bowls. Then he slid a pair of chopsticks across the table.

‘Hyung.’

Shin Tae-oh blinked, realizing he had been staring at the food blankly.

‘Blow on it. Eat before it gets cold.’

Yoo Jin-ha’s voice was casual, like this was something they did all the time.

As he scooped some noodles into a bowl and handed it over, Shin Tae-oh found himself pausing again.

Looking up, he met Yoo Jin-ha’s gaze—calm, steady, focused solely on him.

A thought surfaced, quiet but insistent.

‘Wouldn’t it be okay… to have Jin-ha by my side for a long time?’

…

"Sir!"

"Uh..."

"The ramyun is ready. You should eat it now."

Shin Tae-oh, who had been lost in old memories, blinked and awkwardly raised his hand to accept the chopsticks.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how he ended up here—sitting at Se-hyeon’s table, about to eat ramyun with his secretary.

After parting ways with his mother, he had mentioned wanting ramyun in passing. Se-hyeon, ever attentive, had taken that as a directive and brought him here, cooking it without a second thought. And somehow, while waiting, he had drifted back into the past—back to that day ten years ago, back to a lingering emptiness that refused to fade.

"You said you wanted to eat ramen, did your mind change by any chance?"

"No, no."

Shin Tae-oh held the chopsticks properly and lifted the ramen. The steam rising from the ramyun blurred the pair of eyes looking at him.

"Don't look at me like that. Shall we eat together?"

"I'm sorry."

He didn’t know why that particular day from a decade ago had resurfaced, but the strange feeling of being pushed into the background lingered.

Was he being too sentimental?

Even now, he couldn't shake the thought that he had wanted something more than just food.

"Is there something wrong with the ramyun?"

"The portion is small."

"What?"

Se-hyeon looked puzzled.

"If I had known we were eating together, I would have made four packets."

"How many did you cook?"

"Two."

"I see. Two packets. Two packs aren’t enough."

Shin Tae-oh stupidly nodded as if it made perfect sense. With their combined height reaching nearly 370 centimeters, two packets were definitely not enough.

"So, you really won’t be eating with me?"

He had convinced himself that eating alone wouldn’t be lonely, but before that thought could settle, Se-hyeon silently stood up and fetched something.

"I’ll eat with you."

With that, Se-hyeon poured more noodles into his bowl, the steam curling upward as he stirred them in.

Shin Tae-oh glanced between their bowls.

"Isn't yours bigger than mine?"

"The noodles wouldn't break, so I couldn’t help it."

Se-hyeon’s expression remained neutral, making it impossible to tell whether that was true or if he had deliberately portioned himself more.

Tae-oh slurped up a mouthful, and Se-hyeon did the same. The broth had cooled slightly, but it still tasted good.

They fell into a steady rhythm, quietly eating as Se-hyeon refilled their bowls whenever they neared empty. By the time they were done, only the broth remained.

"Really… it's not enough."

It was the same as when they ate king crab together before. Se-hyeon ate surprisingly well, and for some reason, eating with someone like that made Tae-oh want to keep up.

Just as he was about to set down his chopsticks, Se-hyeon reached for something and dropped it into the pot.

"I’ll make rice."

"When did you bring that?"

"When I got the chopsticks."

Shin Tae-oh let out a small chuckle. Of course he did. Se-hyeon was always thinking ahead. Always prepared. He really was an interesting person.

Se-hyeon stirred the rice into the remaining broth, then wordlessly handed him a spoon.

But instead of taking it, Shin Tae-oh spoke without thinking.

"What is love?"

The spoon in Se-hyeon's hand slipped from his grasp, clattering against the edge of the pot.

[note: I want whatever drugs shin tae-oh is on right now because wtf was with editing this section my brain is frying bro]

Se-hyeon inwardly grumbled at the sudden question about love.

‘I didn’t spike the ramyun with alcohol, so why is he asking this? And of all people, why me?’

He didn’t know love either.

The satisfaction from an otherwise fulfilling job was instantly diminished in the face of such a ridiculous question.

"I don't know love," Se-hyeon said flatly.

‘I don’t know you either. I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.’

Shin Tae-oh, unfazed, continued. "I just thought that if I followed what others do—dating, getting married—then maybe I could live a similar life, even if I don’t know love."

Se-hyeon pressed his lips together, unable to form a response. He wasn’t quite sure what Shin Tae-oh was trying to say.

Shin Tae-oh liked Yoo Jin-ha. That was a fact. He went out of his way to find excuses to see him, to buy him gifts, to confess his feelings.

‘Oh, right. He confessed to me.’

Shin Tae-oh had once said he fell in love with something about him.

And now he's asking, "What is love?"

Was Shin Tae-oh seeing love as something separate?

The question upended everything Se-hyeon had observed so far, leaving his mind in a tangle of confusion.

‘Is there a side of Shin Tae-oh that I don't know?’

Was the Shin Tae-oh he had come to understand in the novel not the full picture?

"Lately, everything feels tangled up," Shin Tae-oh admitted. "Did I really like Jin-ha that much? Why do I vividly remember someone's first encounter? What are my true feelings?"

Amidst the scent of ramen wafting through the air, Shin Tae-oh's words left a sharp, lingering taste—like spice. What does 'spicy' mean? I don’t know.

[note: Spicy as in intriguing or provocative.]

"Maybe it wasn’t real," Shin Tae-oh murmured. "Maybe it was just habit."

Se-hyeon blinked. ‘Great. Now I’m getting dragged into his existential crisis.’

Just as Se-hyeon struggled to find a way to respond, Shin Tae-oh finally let out a sigh.

"I’ve been thinking about it all day."

Se-hyeon lifted his head. ‘So this is what’s been bothering him.’

"Sorry for saying that I think I fell for you lightly. I apologize."

Seeing Shin Tae-oh bowing his head, Se-hyeon couldn't hide his bewildered expression. The Shin Tae-oh he saw when dealing with Yoo Jin-ha was someone who seemed incredibly transparent, but now? He wasn't so sure.

Se-hyeon instinctively raised a hand, gripping Shin Tae-oh’s shoulder to stop him from bowing any further.

"It’s okay," he said. "Our relationship was just a result of pheromones, so you can continue as usual."

He kept up the pretense that Shin Tae-oh was still in love with Yoo Jin-ha.

But Shin Tae-oh shook his head. "No, my attitude was disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? No, it's not. I'm really okay."

"If I have to kneel—"

"Sir!" Se-hyeon cut in, exasperated. "I told you, I’m really okay! Why is it so hard to admit that I have feelings for you? My heart even raced when you praised me earlier today—"

“...”

“...”

"Can you say it again?"

No.

No, that’s not what I meant!!!

Chapter Text

Until now, Se-hyun believed that there was no better CEO than Shin Tae-oh.

First and foremost, the most important factor: money. The salary was higher than anywhere else, performance bonuses were generous, and there were even extra allowances for work outside regular hours. The pay was so good that Se-hyun could tolerate spending 24 hours a day dealing with Shin Tae-oh’s nonsense—with a smile, no less.

Next, the CEO himself wasn’t weird. Shin Tae-oh was a decent human being. A rare breed among bosses.

And as a side character, he came with unexpected perks. The extravagant gifts intended for Yoo Jin-ha? Some of them ended up in Se-hyun’s hands. The best part? Front-row seats to the unfolding drama. Watching it all play out in real time was an added benefit.

Yes, up until five minutes ago, Se-hyun had been convinced. He truly loved this job—loved it so much he had considered making it his lifelong career.

And now?

‘I want to run away.’

The urge to quit surged through him.

Se-hyun’s face burned as he struggled to process the absurdity of what had just left his own mouth.

"Se-hyun’s heart skipped a beat because of me."

Should he explain that it was just a natural physiological reaction? That a racing heart was a common human experience?

"If you hadn’t told me, I never would’ve known," Shin Tae-oh added, looking far too pleased with himself.

Se-hyun bit his lip. Great. He heard me. And worse, he’s enjoying this. Seeing that smug, satisfied smile made Se-hyun want to flip the table.

"Well," Shin Tae-oh mused, "everyone has different points of excitement."

"Where… where on earth did you learn to say things like that?"

Shin Tae-oh casually pointed somewhere behind Se-hyun.

Instinctively, Se-hyun turned to look—only to be met with the sight of a massive advertisement.

Ah.

It was the company’s promotional slogan, carefully crafted to evoke an emotional response from potential homebuyers.

— Where everything becomes a point of excitement, right at your home. —

"Sir."

Now that he knew the culprit, Se-hyun turned back, bracing himself.

"Let me explain what I actually meant."

"Do you know your own heart well?" Shin Tae-oh asked, tilting his head.

"It’s mine, so yes."

"Is that so? I didn't know..."
For some reason, his murmurs sounded unusually weighty. Se-hyun pretended not to notice—at least for now. First, he needed to clear up this ridiculous misunderstanding before Shin Tae-oh got any more ideas.

"I have three desires," Se-hyun declared.

Shin Tae-oh’s eyebrow twitched. "Desires?"

His reaction was immediate and skeptical, as if Se-hyun had just declared himself an enlightened philosopher.

Se-hyun ignored it and continued.

"Appetite, the desire for sleep, and..."

He deliberately left out the one desire Shin Tae-oh was likely expecting.

"The desire for recognition."

Shin Tae-oh blinked. "The desire for recognition…"

"That’s right. When you praised me, my desire for recognition was fulfilled, which made my heart race. That’s all there is to it."

Se-hyun met Shin Tae-oh’s gaze head-on, silently screaming, Believe me. ‘If you don’t, I’ll be drafting my resignation letter tonight.’

In reality, the desire for material wealth probably outweighed his desire for recognition—but that was a secret he would take to his grave.

"I definitely understand the appetite part," Shin Tae-oh muttered, slurping up his ramyun.

Only then did Se-hyun remember that they were in the middle of a meal. He hurriedly picked up his spoon.

"I’ve finished my explanation."

"Alright. Eat up," Shin Tae-oh said, nodding toward the pot of ramen.

"Aren’t you going to eat?"

"...I will."

Seeing that Se-hyun had resumed eating, Shin Tae-oh poured more ramen into his own bowl. Two servings had never been enough in the first place.

As Se-hyun took a bite, he suddenly felt a gaze on him. He looked up.

"...What?"

"Can you help me choose just one?"

"Excuse me?"

"Firm cat, blushing cat, ear cat, annoyed cat."

The common theme of cats caught Se-hyun’s attention.

Has he ever mentioned his fondness for cats?

"...What are you talking about?"

"I want to pick a nickname for a cat," Shin Tae-oh said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

A cat, huh?

Se-hyun nodded. The nickname he had secretly assigned to Shin Tae-oh was ‘Shin Tae-oh + Seungnyangi.’
[note: Seungnyangi: an animal resembling a big dog with yellow or reddish-brown fur.]

After a moment of thought, he answered, "Then I’ll go with ‘Bulnyangi.’"
[note: Fiery Kitty, “bul” meaning "fire" and "nyangi” meaning "cat."]

For some reason, the rough pronunciation had a satisfying ring to it.

"Hmm. So the secretary likes that one."

Shin Tae-oh nodded as if he had just gained some deep insight.

Se-hyun turned away, deciding not to question it further. There was no need to go down that rabbit hole.

—
Now that all the work was done, Se-hyeon could finally go home.

Or so he thought.

"Why are you giving me a ride?" he asked, bewildered.

"Because you've always given me a ride," Shin Tae-oh replied matter-of-factly.

Se-hyeon blinked. "That’s… not a reason."

But no matter how many times he tried to refuse, Shin Tae-oh wouldn't budge. Eventually, Se-hyeon found himself in the passenger seat—except this time, his boss was the one driving. It was unsettling. Usually, he could glance over without a second thought, but now, just looking in that direction felt weird.

‘Did I really like Jin-ha that much?’

Shin Tae-oh’s words echoed in his mind, leaving behind a heavy, unfamiliar weight in his chest.

For the past three years, Se-hyeon had simply watched Shin Tae-oh dote on Yoo Jin-ha from the sidelines. He placed orders, handled deliveries, and reported the inevitable rejections without interference.

‘Order a cake and send it.’

‘Understood.’

As expected, Yoo Jin-ha refused.

‘What should we do?’

‘Can the cake be refunded? Just let the staff members have it.’

‘Understood.’

At least the chocolate-covered coffee beans from the gift box had been delicious.

‘Why are you looking at that watch? Is it pretty?’

‘...I just glanced at it.’

‘Send that to Jin-ha too.’

Se-hyeon never once stopped Shin Tae-oh. There was no need to meddle. Besides, this was how Shin Tae-oh expressed his feelings—through service, through action.

‘Tell him to use it because he’s probably so busy he doesn’t have time to check the clock these days..’

Se-hyeon had wanted to say, ‘It’d be cooler if you just gave it to him without a word,’ but he held back. And then he said…

‘If he refuses to accept it... Then, I think Secretary Ahn can take it.’

At the time, Se-hyeon had been thrilled, thinking it was a win-win situation. Play along with Shin Tae-oh’s strengths and weaknesses, let the story unfold, and eventually, he would fully merge into this world.

But now—

‘Did I do something wrong?’

He had understood Shin Tae-oh. He hadn’t interfered. He had watched as Shin Tae-oh’s affections dwindled.

And yet, Yoo Jin-ha still turned away from him.

‘I regret it.’

Se-hyeon should have paid more attention—not as a secretary, not as an observer, but as a person. Three years had passed, and only now did he feel it.

‘I should start treating him well from now on.’

With that decision, Se-hyeon turned his head. As if sensing his gaze, Shin Tae-oh glanced over just as the car stopped at a light.

Se-hyeon hesitated, then asked, "Is there anything you like?"

Shin Tae-oh blinked. "Something I like?"

He stared at Se-hyeon as if the question had never occurred to him before.

The silence stretched.

Se-hyeon looked away first. "I just thought… since you gave me a ride, I should repay you somehow."

It was a reasonable excuse. After all, it wasn’t every day that a CEO drove his secretary home.

Shin Tae-oh hummed thoughtfully. The car rolled forward again, and Se-hyeon suppressed a sigh. ‘It’s only been five minutes since I decided to treat him better, and I already regret it.’

Was the question that hard?

Lost in thought, Shin Tae-oh didn't answer. The silence continued all the way to Se-hyeon’s apartment.

As the car pulled up, Se-hyeon unbuckled his seatbelt, debating whether to say something or just leave. The air was heavy, as if Shin Tae-oh was still lost in thought.
Finally, Se-hyeon broke the silence. "Thank you for the ride."

If there was no response, he’d just get out.

But right as he reached for the door handle—

"Ah," Shin Tae-oh said suddenly. "I thought of something I like."

Se-hyeon perked up. "Oh! What is it?"

Shin Tae-oh looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"...I like instant noodles."

"Instant… noodles?"

Se-hyeon blinked. Was he talking about the ramyun from earlier?

"Understood," he replied, nodding. Maybe he’d have a chance to cook ramen for him again someday.

Satisfied, he stepped out of the car—

And then heard a car door open behind him.

Startled, he looked up to see Shin Tae-oh stepping out as well.

They made eye contact across the roof of the car. Se-hyeon lowered his head in a brief nod, assuming it was just a coincidental movement before they parted ways.

But then—

"You're not just sending me off, right?"

"...Is there something you want me to do?"

"I said I like ramen."

Se-hyeon squinted. "Are you saying you want to eat ramen at my house?"

"That’s fine."

‘No, I was just asking.’

"You literally had ramen earlier," Se-hyeon pointed out. "Can you eat it again?"

"If we cook two servings, anyone who hears about this will think you barely gave me anything the first time."

We even had rice too, Se-hyeon thought.

"...It took me a lot of effort to think of what I liked."

"…Come in."

It wasn’t even a "Can I come in for ramyun?" situation.

It was a "I want ramyun" situation.

Chapter Text

It was a first.

Bringing Shin Tae-oh into the house, that is.

[note: guys i made a mistake the last chapter :3, bulnyangi and taenyangi were at taenyang’s house earlier not se-hyeon’s house chapter 23 was so fucking confusing]

‘Did I clean up before leaving for work?’

Se-hyeon wasn’t the type to worry about cleanliness. Living alone, he rarely thought about whether things were messy—everything was just there, in its usual spot, ready to be used when needed.

Still, the moment he found himself standing in front of his door with Shin Tae-oh behind him, a flicker of concern crept in.

"Wait here for a second," Se-hyeon said.

He slipped inside through the barely opened door, leaving Shin Tae-oh standing in the hallway. A quick scan of the apartment confirmed that, while not spotless, it was at least presentable. With that, he exhaled in relief and opened the door fully.

Shin Tae-oh stepped inside.

And that’s when Se-hyeon realized—

‘Cleanliness wasn’t the problem here.’

There was something far more pressing.

Se-hyeon’s gaze darted around the room. The scattered remnants of a certain someone’s rejected gifts were everywhere.

Damn it.

There was no turning back now. Shin Tae-oh had already stepped inside, his sharp eyes taking everything in.

"Wait a moment," Shin Tae-oh said, breaking the silence.

Se-hyeon braced himself. ‘Here it comes.’

"Shall we be honest with each other?"

"...Alright."

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze swept over the room. It was clear what he was referring to, and Se-hyeon figured he might as well get ahead of it.

"Were the things around here used well?"

"Ah," Se-hyeon said, as if realizing something. "Yoo Jin-ha returned all the things you gave him."

Silence.

A long, weighted silence.

Se-hyeon met Shin Tae-oh’s gaze and blinked. "Are you asking for a product review?"

If that wasn’t what Shin Tae-oh meant, then…

“They were all great," Se-hyeon continued.

Shin Tae-oh’s expression shifted into something unreadable.

Wasn’t that the answer he wanted?

Se-hyeon glanced around, spotting an empty box neatly placed on the shelf. He pointed at it.

"The cake was sweet and soft. The gloves were warm—easy to put on and take off. This is an honest review, not just because they were free gifts. Also—"

He paused, noticing how Shin Tae-oh's expression only grew stranger with every word.

"...I’ll go make ramyun."

There was no fixing this.

Better to cut the conversation off before it got worse.

—
As Se-hyeon cooked, Shin Tae-oh let his gaze wander around the small studio apartment. It was compact enough that everything was visible at a glance—except for the bathroom. That made it easy to look without feeling like he was snooping too deeply.

He hadn’t expected to be here.

"Lately, everything feels tangled and messed up. Did I really like Jin-ha? Why do I remember my first encounter with that someone so well? I can’t even tell my own true feelings.”

He had said those words to Yoo Jin-hyeon not long ago. It was a lingering question that had been consuming him, something he realized no amount of outside advice could solve.

‘I’ll just look around for a bit more.’

Shin Tae-oh had spent so long turning away from his own feelings. But now, he had decided—he wouldn’t be disappointed that he wasn’t the protagonist of the world. He would simply face it.

His eyes landed on a familiar item.

‘Gloves.’

A memory surfaced—fingers that were always occupied, juggling a phone, a tablet, and documents because there was never enough space in his pockets. Pale, cracked fingertips from the cold wind. Se-hyeon had been too busy working to even notice his own hands.

‘I was stupid’

Everything had gone wrong from the start. His heart had wavered the moment they met face-to-face, but he had dismissed it as unimportant. Looking back, he regretted ignoring it at the most crucial time in his life.

One by one, he took in the items that had found their place in Se-hyeon’s home. A faint smile crossed his lips, tinged with something like bittersweetness.

‘I like you.’

It was as simple as that. The moment he acknowledged it, the tangled mess in his mind finally took shape.

Back then, when Yoo Jin-ha had cooked ramyun for him, he had made a decision—’if it was Jin-ha, it would be fine.’ Maybe Yoo Jin-ha could fill the emptiness inside him, becoming important in someone else’s world.

But now, watching Se-hyeon cook ramyun, his heart resonated in a way it never had before.

He wanted to eat it again.

He wanted to be here.

When he was with Se-hyeon, it was so pleasant that it didn’t matter if he wasn’t the protagonist in this world. His heart had known long before his foolish mind caught up.

"The ramyun is ready."

At Se-hyeon’s voice, Shin Tae-oh turned around. The sight of Se-hyeon looking up when setting the pot down on the table hit him harder than expected.

So it was true.

He hadn’t fallen for him because of their time at the hotel. It had happened much earlier—at the very first meeting.

Shin Tae-oh steadied himself and took a seat. “Did you prepare rice as well?”

"If you need it, I can make some."

Shin Tae-oh was skeptical about his response, but he took a seat without questioning further.

Se-hyeon ignored him, lifting the lid off the pot. Steam curled into the air, revealing perfectly cooked black bean ramyun.

“Since you had soup-based ramen before, I thought this would be good for a change.”

“Good idea.”

Shin Tae-oh picked up his chopsticks, but his hand hesitated. Something was missing. He glanced at Se-hyeon.

“Where are the bowls?”

“Ah.” Se-hyeon’s expression remained neutral. “I don’t have any.”

“…None?”

Se-hyeon glanced at the kitchen, avoiding his gaze. “Then can we just eat from a rice bowl?”

Shin Tae-oh’s eyes flicked to the kitchen, then back to him. “You really don’t have bowls?”

“Usually, I eat instant rice, so I never needed them.”

Shin Tae-oh blinked. ‘Wait. Does that mean…’

“…You don’t have plates either?”

“No.”

A beat of silence.

Shin Tae-oh exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Unbelievable. It’s not a blushing cat, but rather a pitiful one…”

The words were muttered under his breath, so softly that Se-hyeon wasn’t sure if he heard blushing or pitiful.

“…How about this?” Se-hyeon finally said, dividing the ramyun for the two of them.

Shin Tae-oh sighed but took the lid. “Fine. Let’s eat first. We can think about the rest later.”

They settled into an easy rhythm, the warmth of the meal making up for the ridiculousness of the situation.

After a moment, Se-hyeon spoke again. “Shall I make coffee after we eat?”

He pointed at the coffee machine sitting next to his bed.

For the first time since entering the apartment, Shin Tae-oh let out a quiet laugh.

[note: this is SO CUTEE stupid coffee machine being the only gift that se-hyeon got without being an after-effect from yoo jin-ha]

—
Se-hyeon barely had time to wash up before rushing out the door due to an unexpected event over the weekend.

—I've been constantly traveling by plane, so I didn’t find out about the schedule additions until later. I'm sorry.

"It's alright."

It wasn’t difficult for Se-hyeon to step in for the chief secretary, who was currently overseas.

—If I had known, I should have just handled it normally… What is money for, anyway…

While making a call about the schedule, the conversation had veered into a resigned sigh of frustration. Se-hyeon listened with mild amusement as he buttoned his shirt. The chief secretary liked to complain, but Se-hyeon knew he enjoyed his job.

Someone had once asked why the chief secretary had agreed to work under their former underclassman —now a high-profile figure. His answer had been simple:

"It wasn’t because I wanted to serve the best person in the industry. It was because they offered me a lot of money."

—Anyway, I'd like to ask you for a favour.

"Understood."

By the time the call ended, Se-hyeon was already dressed. His reflection in the mirror confirmed that everything was in place, save for his still-damp hair under the harsh bathroom light.

He grabbed his belongings and left the house.

‘I don't have a car, taking the subway will be faster.’

Weekend traffic made buses unreliable. He was about to head for the station when something made him stop in his tracks.

A familiar car.

It wasn’t just the same model—it had the same license plate number. One he had unintentionally memorized.

As if on cue, the driver's side door opened.

Shin Tae-oh stepped out.

"Sir."

"I came to pick you up. We’re short on time."

Se-hyeon quickly bowed his head. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Shin Tae-oh exhaled, as if reluctant to acknowledge the apology. "You can apologize while we drive."

"Understood."

Se-hyeon moved toward the driver’s side, instinctively assuming he would take the wheel. But Shin Tae-oh stopped him, tilting his head toward the other side.

"No, not here. Over there."

"...Are you telling me to sit in the passenger seat?"

"If you prefer the back seat, that works too."

His tone was casual, but his stance was firm—he wasn’t giving up the driver's seat.

Left with no other choice, Se-hyeon climbed into the passenger side. As he settled in, a strange feeling crept over him.

'Why am I in the boss's car again, with him driving...?'

—
"Are we going to a tableware shop?"

"Let's take a look around."

Se-hyeon followed belatedly, still unsure why Shin Tae-oh suddenly needed dishes. Well, it wasn’t his place to question it. His role was to assist, after all.

"Welcome. Are you here to see our newlywed dish sets, by any chance?"

[note: It is a common tradition in Korean culture for newlyweds to acquire a special set of dishes for their married life.]

The employee greeted them with a bright smile.

Se-hyeon frowned.

‘Newlywed dishes?’

Shin Tae-oh's house was already overflowing with tableware. Even if it weren’t, he was single—what would he need a newlywed set for?

"Please show them to us," Shin Tae-oh replied smoothly.

"Of course. Right this way."

The employee’s expression remained unfazed, as if they had expected this response.

Se-hyeon trailed behind, feeling increasingly out of place.

‘No way…’

At first, he assumed Shin Tae-oh was simply buying dishes for himself. But the timing was too strange.

Just yesterday, Tae-oh had come to his house, and they had eaten ramyun off a pot lid because he didn’t own proper bowls.

Could this be… for him?

The thought was absurd. Tae-oh wasn’t the type to go out of his way for something like this.

Yet, as he followed along, silent and unsure, the suspicion dug deeper into his mind. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the ridiculous idea.

Should he ask?

But what if it wasn’t for him? What if he embarrassed himself for no reason?

Before he could make up his mind, the payment process had already begun.

"Please make the payment. Secretary Ahn, bring all these dishes to my house."

Se-hyeon blinked.

‘It's not for me.’

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Was it a relief that he hadn’t asked? He should feel neutral about this—maybe even glad he avoided an awkward situation.

Then why did he feel…

‘Disappointed?’

No. That was ridiculous.

Shaking off the unnecessary thoughts, Se-hyeon stepped forward to finalize the payment.

"Would you like it wrapped as a gift?" the employee asked politely.

Se-hyeon turned instinctively to Shin Tae-oh for guidance. But instead of answering, Tae-oh simply looked at him.

"Secretary Ahn can decide."

A pause.

"Would you like it to be wrapped as a gift?"

Chapter Text

Even after the payment was complete, Se-hyeon still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Until now, everything Shin Tae-oh had bought had always been for Yoo Jin-ha—gifts that had been summarily rejected. It was like picking up money someone else had dropped on the ground.

But this time…

"Sir."

Shin Tae-oh, who was walking ahead, turned at Se-hyeon's voice.

"Did you buy them for me?"

"Well, technically you were the one who paid for the dishes—with my card."

His casual response only made Se-hyeon more confused. No, now he could understand. It was because of Yoo Jin-ha’s uneasy feelings whenever he received a gift.

"Was it bothering you that I didn't have plates and bowls? Even if that's the case, if you just buy them without telling me—"

Besides, Tae-oh hadn’t even asked which ones he liked. He had picked everything according to his own taste, and now, at the very end, it turned out they were for him?

"You said you didn’t need dishes because you eat instant rice."

"What? Yes, that's right."

That was precisely why he hadn’t felt the need to own bowls in the first place.

"So can't we just continue living like this?"

"...What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, I am buying those dishes for myself."

‘For yourself?’

"Then why did you ask about the gift wrapping?"

"I was going to keep them at your place. I thought maybe I should wrap them up."

Se-hyeon was completely lost now.

‘If it’s in my house, it’s mine. Right?’

"So you're saying these dishes are meant for me. Why are you twisting your words like this?"

Shin Tae-oh didn’t waver. "They’ll be in your house, but they’re for me. Without a doubt."

Again. Why did he have to phrase it like that?

"Then why don't you just send them directly to your house?" Se-hyeon asked, slightly exasperated.

For the first time, Shin Tae-oh met his gaze and—

…Smirked?

That single expression sent a strange ripple through Se-hyeon's chest.

"I was pouring coffee by your bedside," Tae-oh said smoothly. "Where do you think I’d even put all those dishes if you gave them to me now?"

"Well…"

Tae-oh let the words linger between them before finishing,

"I’ll give them to you—little by little."

With that, he neatly ended the conversation, leaving Se-hyeon even more bewildered than before.

—
In the spacious bed of a hotel suite, a man lay buried beneath the sheets. His face was hidden as he rested face down, his slow, steady breathing the only indication that he was still asleep.

Someone approached the bed and sat down beside him. Dressed in nothing but a robe, they reached out slowly, releasing a faint wave of pheromones toward the sleeping man.

"Babe, are you just going to keep sleeping?"

Their touch was gentle, coaxing him awake.

"It's time to get up. Didn’t you say you had an appointment today?"

The pheromones grew stronger, paired with a soft, teasing voice. Though the intention was to wake him in time, there was an ulterior motive—a silent invitation to indulge once more.

"Jin-seong-ssi, come on, wake up, please?"

Just as the man leaned in to place a kiss on Jin-seong’s forehead, a sharp tug interrupted him. A suppressed moan escaped his lips—Jin-seong had grabbed him by the hair.

"Jin-seong…"

His voice trembled with a mix of surprise and plea, but Jin-seong didn’t release his grip. Instead, he yawned, sitting up while still holding the man's hair in his grasp. It was a harsh reaction, considering the intimacy they'd shared the night before.

"Who the hell releases pheromones first thing in the morning? How annoying."

"I'm sorry…"

Just last night, Jin-seong had demanded more pheromones. Now, he was irritated by them.

"Get out."

A single, cold command.

Without hesitation, the man scrambled to his feet, gathering his belongings without even changing clothes. He rushed out of the suite, eager to avoid another painful tug.

Once he was alone, Jin-seong clicked his tongue and stretched lazily.

"This is why I don’t bother with omegas."

Being around an omega meant being drenched in pheromones, leaving him feeling sticky and irritated. Usually, he preferred betas—less trouble, less mess. But last night, he hadn’t had the luxury of being picky.

"Especially with that old man showing up…"

That unexpected appearance had thrown everything off. He had planned to take advantage of the situation and interfere with Ha Min-hyuk’s latest project. Instead, Chairman Ha Cheol-gyu had shown up—an unwelcome variable.

Jin-seong’s jaw tightened. The chairman was the only one who had ever acknowledged that illegitimate child, the one even his own father had cast aside.

"Lucky bastard."

The thought of Ha Min-hyuk, the lowborn son thriving under the chairman’s protection, made his blood boil.

"If you want to push me to the edge…"

Jin-seong tilted his head, considering his next move. The lingering omega pheromones in the room reminded him of someone he had seen yesterday—Yoo Jin-ha.

"Breaking an omega would be the best way."

If he wanted to hurt Ha Min-hyuk, targeting Yoo Jin-ha would be the most effective move. Luring him in, making him his omega—that would leave a scar Ha Min-hyuk couldn’t ignore.

His gaze flickered toward the mirror, and in his reflection, another thought surfaced.

Ahn Se-hyeon.

That beta from yesterday. Smaller than him, but firm and enticing in a way Yoo Jin-ha wasn’t.

A wicked smile curled on Jin-seong’s lips.

"Why not take them both?"

And then there was Shin Tae-oh—that arrogant brat had been getting on his nerves too.

Decision made, he wasted no time. He grabbed his phone and dialed.

"Jin-woong."

As the call connected, he reached for a perfume bottle on the vanity and sprayed it near his neck—a scent laced with the alpha pheromones the omega from last night had been so eager to inhale.

Jin-seong had presented as an alpha, yet he emitted no pheromones of his own. A cruel twist of fate.

But he had never let fate decide his life.

A glint of cold amusement flickered in his eyes.

It was time to take control.

—
‘Yoo Jin-ha, Ha Min-hyuk, Shin Tae-oh.’

Se-hyeon’s gaze swept over each of them in turn, moving clockwise around the coffee table. Meeting them one-on-one wasn’t strange — it had all happened in the original story, after all. But seeing them together like this...

‘How did things end up like this?’

Yoo Jin-ha, who looked just as uncomfortable as Se-hyeon felt, let out a dry laugh.

"Did I call Secretary Ahn here for nothing?"

That was the start of it.

Right when Se-hyeon and Shin Tae-oh were about to leave the department store, they'd locked eyes with Yoo Jin-ha and Ha Min-hyuk. And once Ha Min-hyuk approached them like an old friend, well... here they were.

Four people. One table. One very awkward café.

What were the odds of running into them in such a huge place? Yet fate — or maybe bad luck — had forced their paths to cross.

"It’s fine," Se-hyeon replied, though there wasn’t much point in saying so now.

Suppressing a sigh, he took a sip of his coffee — washing down both the bitterness and the uncomfortable atmosphere in one gulp.

When he glanced sideways at Shin Tae-oh, his expression was, as always, impossible to read. Calm. Blank. Untouchable.

But Se-hyeon knew better.

‘Momentum’

That’s what Shin Tae-oh had once called his feelings for Yoo Jin-ha — messy, tangled emotions he couldn’t quite sort out.

And now, watching Yoo Jin-ha sitting across from Ha Min-hyuk... was Tae-oh feeling jealous? Instinctively irritated?

[note: NOO YOU SILLY IDIOT shin tae-oh liked yoo jin-ha out of momentum omg… ur misunderstanding everything]

Somehow, that thought made Se-hyeon feel even more uneasy than when Tae-oh had nonchalantly bought him dishware.

‘Uncomfortable?’

Se-hyeon froze, catching himself mid-thought.

Yesterday, he’d found this whole chaotic love triangle entertaining — like watching a drama unfold from the sidelines.

But today... he didn’t like this feeling at all.

‘Pull yourself together.’

He reminded himself firmly: ‘You’re just an extra here. A spectator. Stay in your lane.’

Trying to break the tension, Yoo Jin-ha spoke again.

"Oh, right. Secretary Ahn, this is your first time meeting Min-hyuk, right?"

"I saw him yesterday."

Ha Min-hyuk’s cool reply landed like a stone.

Still, Yoo Jin-ha pressed on, determined to force civility into the situation.

"You probably didn’t greet him properly. This is Secretary Se-hyeon."

Ha Min-hyuk’s gaze lingered on Se-hyeon — openly curious, like he was trying to figure something out.

"Nice to meet you," Se-hyeon said politely, bowing his head.

Ha Min-hyuk returned the bow, but his eyes didn’t move away.

Se-hyeon could feel Yoo Jin-ha shift, as if about to break the moment — but then, before anyone else could speak—

"What’s so interesting?"

Shin Tae-oh’s low voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife.

Everyone went still.

"Got something you want to know about my secretary?" Tae-oh asked, every word laced with unmissable irritation.

"I’ve seen Se-hyeon before — even before he became a secretary," Ha Min-hyuk replied easily.

"Is that supposed to matter?"

Tae-oh didn’t bother to hide his displeasure.

Even Ha Min-hyuk’s calm started to fray under that biting tone.

"I just thought he seemed likable. Regardless of his profession."

Likable.

Shin Tae-oh’s expression twisted, just barely.

It wasn’t like the word had to mean something romantic — but hearing Ha Min-hyuk say it still clearly rubbed Tae-oh the wrong way.

Caught in the thick, suffocating atmosphere, Se-hyeon didn’t know where to look — until his gaze accidentally met Yoo Jin-ha’s across the table.

In that split second, without saying a word, they both seemed to agree on one thing:

This is exhausting.

And just like that—

"Ha Min-hyuk."

Shin Tae-oh’s low, dangerous voice broke the tension.

Chapter Text

Se-hyeon pressed his dry lips together, biting down hard as tension coiled through him. His lips reddened from the pressure, but he couldn’t maintain his composure—at least not in front of Shin Tae-oh.

"What are you trying to say?"

The atmosphere had grown so tense, the shift in conversation sharp and jarring. Se-hyeon’s heart felt like it might explode from the nervousness.

’Why am I the one caught in the middle? I’m not even Yoo Jin-ha.’

In his mind, he wanted to smack Shin Tae-oh upside the head and tell him to stop picking fights. But in reality, he couldn’t bring himself to say a single word.

Then Shin Tae-oh finally opened his mouth, and the tension ramped up further.

"Since when did Mr. Ha Min-hyuk become so handsome?"

"..."

‘Did I hear that right?’

Se-hyeon turned to look at Shin Tae-oh, the man he was supposed to respect as his superior, as if he’d completely lost his mind. Nothing else could explain that statement.

"Since when did you start giving off such attractive pheromones? Do you like cake, by any chance?"

"What are you talking about?"

Ha Min-hyuk furrowed his brows and questioned the meaning behind Shin Tae-oh's words. Until just now, Shin Tae-oh's demeanour had been hostile. But now he was acting… nice, which only sharpened Ha Min-hyuk's gaze. Shin Tae-oh, on the other hand, shrugged it off nonchalantly.

"What's so strange about showing a little interest?"

"..."

"I’m simply expressing my interest in Ha Min-hyuk. As a person, of course. And I’m more than willing to get to know him. Closely. Very attentively."

The silence that followed could’ve filled the entire room. Ha Min-hyuk, Yoo Jin-ha, and Se-hyeon all paused—as if they’d silently agreed this situation had gone off the rails.

So this was it. Shin Tae-oh’s bizarre behavior wasn’t random—it was a calculated jab. A childish reflection of Ha Min-hyuk’s earlier comment about Se-hyeon being likable.

‘Petty Taenyang.’

The tactic was so childish that it only made everyone more uncomfortable.

"That..."

Yoo Jin-ha, who couldn't bear to listen any longer, opened his mouth to stop Shin Tae-oh. Although he managed to interrupt the flow for now, seeing Yoo Jin-ha struggling to continue his next words, Se-hyeon silently urged him to speak.

"How about we leave now?"

Yes. Let's go our separate ways.

Se-hyeon pushed his chair back slightly, mentally promising himself that once he got out of here with Shin Tae-oh, he would never get dragged into something like this again.

"Mr. Ahn Se-hyeon."

However, Ha Min-hyuk grabbed Se-hyeon's arm.

"I would like to talk separately."

After Se-hyeon witnessed them discussing his supposed interest in me and having an uncomfortable conversation with Shin Tae-oh, now he wants to have a private talk... But as Se-hyeon looked into Ha Min-hyuk's eyes, Ha Min-hyuk turned toward Shin Tae-oh and gave a polite nod.

"Could you give us a moment?"

Shin Tae-oh locked eyes with Ha Min-hyuk for a moment, then looked away. Se-hyeon, realizing that it was permission, completely stood up from his seat. Ha Min-hyuk also stood up in response.

"Wait here," Ha Min-hyuk said, patting Yoo Jin-ha lightly on the shoulder. Yoo Jin-ha looked startled, but didn’t say anything.

As they walked out of the café, Se-hyeon kept a two-step distance behind.

"Why did you follow me?"

…Because you asked me too?

"What do you think I'm going to say?"

Hell if I know.

Ha Min-hyuk took the lead again, and before he could continue, Se-hyeon let out a sigh and spoke first.

"I won’t beat around the bush. We’ve met before, right?"

From the look in Ha Min-hyuk’s eyes, Se-hyeon was sure. Though Yoo Jin-ha had introduced them, Ha Min-hyuk’s gaze said otherwise—he had already known Se-hyeon. Repeating his name separately from Shin Tae-oh had only made it more obvious.

"Yes," Ha Min-hyuk replied.

"Since when?"

"Well... let's put that aside for now. The reason I called you, Mr. Ahn Se-hyeon..."

Ha Min-hyuk hesitated for a moment before finally making up his mind and spoke.

"I happened to see you having a conversation with Ha Jin-seong."

"...So?"

They hadn’t been in a secluded area—just a quiet corner. Still, it was possible someone had seen them. Was that what seemed strange to him?

"I felt like Ha Jin-seong was… showing interest in you."

"You didn’t hear what we talked about?"

Ha Min-hyuk shook his head.

"I saw it. Through the glass, just like this."

He turned his head slightly, gesturing toward the café. Se-hyeon followed his gaze and saw Shin Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha talking inside.

The two of them were laughing—smiling at each other in a way that seemed natural. Easy.

Se-hyeon found himself watching for too long. They looked like a perfect match.

"Be careful of Ha Jin-seong."

The warning cut through his thoughts.

Se-hyeon turned back to Ha Min-hyuk.

"Ha Jin-seong never lets go once he sets his sights on someone. Whether it’s out of interest or—"

"Or out of dislike."

Se-hyeon finished the sentence Ha Min-hyuk hadn’t. He already knew what kind of person Ha Jin-seong was. Relentless. And intense. But what he didn’t understand was—

"Why are you warning me?"

"I’m just a background character from beginning to end...?"

Throughout the original work, Ahn Se-hyeon was hardly noticeable, just an insignificant extra character…

"If that’s your idea of being humble, don’t."

Humble?

"Mr. Ahn Se-hyeon, you stand out. Don’t pretend you don’t know that."

Se-hyeon looked at Ha Min-hyuk with confusion.

"Since you became Shin Tae-oh’s secretary, people have asked about you constantly. You’ve drawn attention without even trying."

Ha Min-hyuk paused, studying Se-hyeon’s face. From some point on, whenever Shin Tae-oh appeared, people would look for his secretary. Se-hyeon, with his expressionless face, silently fulfilled his duties, attracting attention with his unique aura.

Because of that, just like Shin Tae-oh, his secretary had become famous, and Ha Min-hyuk had also noticed him many times. Of course, Ha Min-hyuk wanted to see Se-hyeon for different reasons.

"You’re the one who turned Shin Tae-oh’s attention away from Jin-ha."

His voice was so low, Se-hyeon barely caught the words.

"...What?"

Ha Min-hyuk didn’t repeat himself.

Instead, he said, "You’re good-looking. That’s why he noticed you."

Se-hyeon narrowed his eyes, trying to read between the lines—trying to confirm whether Shin Tae-oh had really been the subject of that comment.

"Anyway, don’t get tangled up with Ha Jin-seong. If things get complicated, use Shin Tae-oh. That’s the easiest way to keep Ha Jin-seong off your back."

Use his boss?

'He's not normal either.'

Se-hyeon couldn’t help thinking Ha Min-hyuk was just as odd—though he had no room to talk, considering how he accepted everything Shin Tae-oh threw his way without question.

After the conversation, the two returned to the café like nothing had happened.

Se-hyeon quietly resumed his position behind Shin Tae-oh, as if he'd never left. He didn’t bring up what Ha Min-hyuk had said. Nor did he ask what Shin Tae-oh and Yoo Jin-ha had talked about.

It was an uncomfortable encounter.

—
As Shin Tae-oh stepped outside, his gaze landed on the person waiting for him—and he couldn’t hide the disappointment that flickered across his face.

"Do you treat Secretary Ahn the same way?" the Chief Secretary asked, noting his reaction.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t bother to hide his feelings. "I’m disappointed because it’s not Secretary Ahn."

The words came out sharper than intended.

After yesterday’s awkward goodbye with Se-hyeon, Shin Tae-oh had been left with a strange, unsettled feeling. He hadn’t been able to hear what Se-hyeon and Ha Min-hyuk had talked about. And Se-hyeon’s quiet way of distancing himself made it impossible to press for details.

So today, he'd hoped for the right moment to ask. Instead, it was the Chief Secretary who appeared—and Ha Min-hyuk seemed perfectly fine with that.

"Secretary Ahn went ahead to the studio," the Chief Secretary offered, perhaps sensing Shin Tae-oh's irritation.

Shin Tae-oh’s frown deepened.

"Why didn’t you go instead of Secretary Ahn?" he asked, voice cool.

‘There’s someone at the studio who seems very eager to get a picture of him.’

—
"I didn’t expect Se-hyeon-ssi to arrive first."

Amid the bustle of staff setting up for the shoot, Yoo Jin-hyeon approached, offering a casual but sincere greeting.

"It’s been a while."

Se-hyeon gave a polite nod. "Is there anything I can assist with?"

"Actually… there is something."

At Se-hyeon’s curious glance, Yoo Jin-hyeon brought out a camera he had half-hidden under his arm and began adjusting its settings.

"We need to do a camera test before the actual shoot. Would you mind being the stand-in model?"

"Me?" Se-hyeon blinked. He hadn't expected that.

"You remember what I said last time? About taking your photo?"

"...At the bar?"

The memory surfaced—Yoo Jin-hyeon had offered to take his picture as a way of apologizing. At the time, Se-hyeon assumed it was just a light comment, something tossed out with no real intent.

"That’s right," Yoo Jin-hyeon said with a small smile. "So how about it? Just think of it like stepping into a random studio for a passport photo. No pressure."

With that simple comparison, something shifted in Se-hyeon’s mind. He’d had his photo taken before—on documents, for IDs, maybe even in school. This wasn’t entirely foreign, even if it felt strangely personal.

Letting out a quiet breath, he adjusted his tie, squared his shoulders, and stepped in front of the backdrop.

"I’ll request a passport-style shot."

Yoo Jin-hyeon lowered the camera slightly, brows lifting in amusement.

"A passport photo? I was going for a natural profile... What are you talking about?"

Despite himself, Se-hyeon gave a faint smile. The tension eased a little as the first shutter clicked.

Chapter Text

Shin Tae-oh rushed into the studio and his footsteps heavy and fast, like they might leave cracks in the floor.

"Yoo Jin-hyun."

Yoo Jin-hyun, who was focused on something, didn't even bother to turn around and greet him.

"You're here."

"Where's Secretary Ahn? What have you done to him?"

Yoo Jin-hyun finally turned, arching a brow.

“What do you take me for?”

But Shin Tae-oh didn’t ease up. His eyes burned with suspicion.

“Don’t act like you forgot what you said before—about liking your subject. If you’re planning to take photos of Secretary Ahn, forget it.”

“I thought it was just talk,” Yoo Jin-hyun said easily. “But it turns out it wasn’t. Se-hyun… really is something.”

“If you’ve got personal feelings for someone else’s secretary—”

Before Shin Tae-oh could finish, Yoo Jin-hyun pushed something into his hands.

“I already took them.”

“An ID photo.”

Shin Tae-oh stared down at the picture in his hand.

It was nothing like the rushed, low-quality one on Se-hyun’s resume. This photo was clean, focused, natural — Se-hyun’s features captured in perfect light, every sharp line and subtle softness in balance.

Shin Tae-oh found himself… momentarily breathless.

“Even though Se-hyun’s got a good face,” Yoo Jin-hyun said, launching into commentary like a photographer on a high, “he’s not easy to capture. Depending on the lighting, his bone structure changes. From the front, his nose bridge isn’t obvious, but from the side—”

Shin Tae-oh wasn’t listening. His jaw tightened.

“Who told you to take a picture of my secretary?”

“What? Come on. Even if he is your secretary, he’s still free to get his photo taken.”

“So what, you planning to use this to poach him? Hand out his resume somewhere else?”

Yoo Jin-hyun opened his mouth to argue—then paused, remembering the reason he’d taken the ID photo in the first place.

“…Actually, should I just scout him? I’ve been looking for someone competent. He’d be a perfect fit.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Shin Tae-oh leaned in, their faces nearly touching.

“Back off.”

“Jeez, why so close? I can smell your cologne—or whatever pheromones you’re trying to radiate.” Yoo Jin-hyun jabbed him in the shoulder, unimpressed.

“If you let this photo circulate, I won’t let you off.”

“And what exactly are you gonna do to me?”

"Naturally, you’d be…”

Yoo Jin-hyun smirked, taunting him with his own untouchability. Shin Tae-oh looked ready to snap—but then Yoo Jin-hyun casually slid another photo into view.

This one was different.

Se-hyun again—but with one leg crossed, tie loosened, a slight shift in posture that changed everything. Still poised. But suddenly human. Warm. Intimate.

Shin Tae-oh’s gaze locked on the image like it had gravity.

Yoo Jin-hyun smirked. He’d expected that. So he confidently showed him another picture.

From a frontal photo to various angles, it was Se-hyun captured in different poses. Unlike the ID photo, it fully conveyed his unique atmosphere. Shin Tae-oh behaved as if he was completely engrossed in the photo.

Yoo Jin-hyun, thinking that he had successfully captivated Shin Tae-oh, boldly said, “And this one? Don’t want a profile picture?”

"...How did you take this?"

Shin Tae-oh asked with a noticeably gentle expression, unlike before. Seeing that, Yoo Jin-hyun smirked and shook the photo playfully.

“You want it?” Yoo Jin-hyun asked, eyes glinting.

“If we renew the contract, will you give it to me?”

"That's a given."

Yoo Jin-hyun crossed his arms as if daring him to say more. The tables have turned.

“Fine. Take as much wine as you want from our house.”

Without hesitation, Yoo Jin-hyun handed over the photo.

Shin Tae-oh took it carefully, as if it were something fragile.

Watching him, Yoo Jin-hyun raised an eyebrow.

"Have a change of heart yet?"

Upon hearing the question of whether he had moved onto Ahn Se-hyun instead of his younger brother Yoo Jin-ha, Shin Tae-oh looked up slowly.

"It hasn't changed."

Yoo Jin-hyun narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t give me that. You’ve been drooling over my brother for years—and now you’re trying to lie to yourself?”

“I didn’t realize how I felt. That’s all. It’s not that I changed… I just found where I belong.”

“…Ridiculous.”

Yoo Jin-hyun huffed, annoyed but begrudgingly resigned.

At least Tae-oh hadn’t switched after Yoo Jin-ha finally opened up. If he had, Yoo Jin-hyun wouldn’t have taken it lying down.

“Well, if it’s like this, leave Jin-ha alone. I still don’t like that Ha Min-hyuk guy, but it’s still their own relationship.”

Yoo Jin-hyun glanced up toward the studio entrance.

“Look, your secretary’s coming out.”

Shin Tae-oh slipped the two photos into his coat pocket like nothing had happened. Smooth, composed, completely unaffected—on the surface.

“Secretary Ahn.”

His voice was cool. Too cool.

Yoo Jin-hyun watched him with a smirk.

That’s the revenge I wanted to tell you about last time, he thought. And now, it’s done.

As Se-hyun approached, Yoo Jin-hyun straightened. They’d had their fun; not it’s time to get back to work.

—
"What did I just do?"

Se-hyun sighed, recalling the deal he’d made with Yoo Jin-hyun.

Originally, he'd flat-out refused the idea of a profile photo.

”I refuse.”

Simple. Final.

”Why?”

”An ID photo’s enough.”

What's the point of taking a profile picture anyway?

”Oh, that’s right. People usually don’t take that kind of picture.”

Yoo Jin-hyun backed off easily — or so it seemed.

Then, with a casual shrug and a sly smile:

”Then how about this?”

Se-hyun wondered what excuse he would come up with. Frankly, He still couldn’t figure out why Yoo Jin-hyun was so persistent. If it was about finding a photogenic subject, wouldn’t Shin Tae-oh have been the obvious choice?

Ha Min-hyuk, Yoo Jin-ha, even Ha Jin-seong — they were all good-looking. But in Se-hyun’s eyes, Shin Tae-oh stood in a league of his own. No comparison.

”I’ve been taking pictures of people since I was a kid…”

Yoo Jin-hyun trailed off, clearly trying to sound sentimental. Se-hyun wasn’t buying it.

”Tae-oh had a decent face even back then. I took a few pictures — rare ones. He didn’t smile much as a kid. But I caught one.”

Se-hyun had no idea where this was going.

Then came the offer:

‘Let's trade. A photo for a photo, how about it?’

Se-hyun’s response to Yoo Jin-hyun’s barter was...

”I must be going crazy.”

What's the point of needing Shin Tae-oh's childhood pictures when Se-hyun knows him well enough?

What use did he have for old pictures of Shin Tae-oh? He already knew him — present-day, in real time. But despite every logical reason to decline, he’d said yes.

Maybe it was the way Shin Tae-oh had looked lately — rattled, unlike his usual composed self. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else.

"What's done is done."

He looked down at the album now in his hands — a collection of childhood photos, memories caught on film. Shin Tae-oh's album.

"Secretary Ahn."

At the sound of that familiar voice, Se-hyun quickly straightened.

"Sir."

"Have you checked everything?"

“Yes.”

He pushed the album aside, sliding the finalized documents across the table.

“Here they are.”

“Any notes?”

“Nothing unusual.”

As Tae-oh flipped through the documents, Se-hyun sat quietly, unsure what to do with the album. Leaving it out in the open felt careless. Carrying it all day would be inconvenient. And if Tae-oh asked about it…

“What’s that?”

Right on cue.

Se-hyun instinctively shifted to block the album from view. But, well—

‘No. There’s no need to hide it.’

Yoo Jin-hyun might’ve already told him. Might as well play it cool.

Just as Se-hyun opened his mouth to explain, he caught movement behind Shin Tae-oh. Yoo Jin-hyun was flailing his arms, trying to get Se-hyun’s attention.

Then: a subtle pantomime of taking a photo. Pointing at Tae-oh. Nod. Wink.

‘Shin Tae-oh, picture, keep quiet?’

Se-hyun pieced it together and gave a small, subtle nod.

He didn’t need to explain. In fact, better not to.

“I received a gift,” he said instead, tone casual.

“…A gift?” Tae-oh asked, voice rising just slightly.

Technically, it was a gift. Sort of. If you overlooked the barter system behind it.

Before Se-hyun could redirect the conversation, Tae-oh’s next question caught him off guard:

“A gift… Do you like gifts?”

Chapter Text

A moment of silence passed between them. The world around them was still full of noise—footsteps, faint chatter, the distant clatter of equipment—but the space between Se-hyun and Shin Tae-oh felt suspended in time. Quiet. Measured. Too calm.

They were aware of each other. Intimately so.

Just as Shin Tae-oh’s hand reached for his phone, Se-hyun reacted without thinking.

He grabbed his wrist.

"Do you like holding my wrist?"

‘I’m trying to turn the situation around with bullshit, but it’s impossible.’

His voice was light, almost joking. But it was a bluff. A desperate attempt to redirect the moment.

He didn’t let go.

Instead, Se-hyun’s fingers slid down to clasp the hand that still held the phone. His grip was deliberate—gentle, but unmistakably firm.

"You don't have to buy me anything."

Shin Tae-oh blinked.

"What do you mean?"

Se-hyun bit back a laugh. That innocent tone—it was so fake it was insulting.

He had seen this act before. Too many times.

He remembered all the presents. The carefully wrapped boxes for Yoo Jin-ha. The sneaky surprise deliveries. The gifts that screamed of guilt, longing, or maybe just habit.

He wasn’t going to play that role.

“There are a lot of things you can do with a phone,” Se-hyun said softly. “Buy something. Send a gift. You don’t need to do that.”

The implication hung in the air. Heavy.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t reply.

Not really.

He just turned his face away, looked down at his cellphone and obediently put it back in his pocket.

“Well, I’m not fooling anyone, not even you.”

Se-hyun let go, watching as Shin Tae-oh stepped away without a word. His figure moved with usual precision, cool and practiced. But there was a slight tension in his shoulders. A tell.

Se-hyun exhaled quietly and followed at a distance, album still tucked in his arms.

‘He’s someone you can’t let your guard down around.’

Even now, Shin Tae-oh hasn't asked about the album.

He could’ve. Should’ve. But he didn’t.

Instead, he walked up to Yoo Jin-hyun, who was half-buried in his work, and leaned in close to whisper something. His voice was too low to hear, but whatever he said made Yoo Jin-hyun pause.

Then, with barely a glance back, Shin Tae-oh said only one thing.

He was leaving.

Just like that.

—
"Then, finish up well and come back."

Shin Tae-oh turned to leave, his stride confident as ever. The employees lined up to greet him as he exited, each offering respectful bows. When his gaze landed on Se-hyun for the final time, the secretary gave a deep, polite bow.

Shin Tae-oh’s eyes lingered a beat too long before he finally turned away.

Se-hyun, now released from that heavy gaze, lifted his head with a faint sigh. Watching Shin Tae-oh walk away, he allowed himself a moment of stillness before turning to the task at hand.

With the shoot wrapped up, only the final A-cut selection remained. Wanting to ensure everything ended cleanly, Se-hyun rolled up his sleeves and began gathering scattered props.

Before long, a few others approached—three employees around his age.

"Secretary Ahn, we’ll handle this part."

"It’s alright," he replied, politely declining. "I appreciate it."

Se-hyun politely declined the other employees' kindness and continued to work diligently. The reason he stayed here was to observe until the very end and take the final results with him. In that sense, Se-hyun thought it would be efficient to tidy up in advance and began to move, but the employees kept trying to intervene.

"Still, you've worked hard today."

"Others have worked harder."

His calm refusal didn’t deter them, but after a second round of rejection, they backed off with exchanged glances. Still, one of them stepped forward again with determination.

Se-hyun straightened as the tall figure approached—a man with a soft, slightly disheveled air and a kind expression. Though unfamiliar at first, Se-hyun caught the faint hint of pheromones and instinctively tensed before adjusting his demeanor.

"Do you know who I am, sir?"

"Aren’t you Hwang Hye-seong, Manager from the Design Department?"

Hwang Hye-seong, trying to introduce himself by subtly—cringely— showing his employee ID, nodded with a happy expression.

"That's correct. I also know Secretary Ahn Se-hyun well. You often come to meet Assistant Manager Yoo Jin-ha, right?"

"...Yes."

Se-hyun did visit the Design Department to bring the gift given by Shin Tae-oh.

"I asked Mr. Yoo Jin-ha to relay a message, but even after waiting, there was no response..."

It seemed like Hwang Hye-seong had come personally. Although he couldn't continue his next sentence easily, Se-hyun looked at the other person who exuded an unusual energy from head to toe.

The people who had been cheering Hwang Hye-seong on with clenched fists quickly lowered their hands and diverted their attention upon noticing his gaze. As if that wasn't enough, they left the area, creating an opportunity for Hwang Hye-seong to gather his courage and speak up.

"I have feelings for Secretary Ahn Se-hyun. Oh and it's not just a passing interest. I've been watching you for a long time. At first, I thought about giving up when I realized you were a Beta, but I realized that it wasn’t in my control. That's why I wanted to confess."

As Hwang Hye-sung confessed, Se-hyun remained silent, looking at him before bowing deeply.

"I'm sorry."

“Thank you for confessing. However, I have no feelings for you. I'm sorry.” Se-hyun omitted all those words. No matter what he said, he felt it wouldn't change Hwang Hye-sung's feelings. He thought it would be best to draw the line quickly.

Se-hyun walked past Hwang Hye-sung, holding an album he had placed on the side. It was the most awkward moment when the man couldn't even meet his eyes while facing forward.

As Se-hyun disappeared and Hwang Hye-sung was left alone, he habitually touched the back of his head, and the two people who had given him space earlier approached.

"Did you confess?"

Hwang Hye-sung nodded and forced a smile.

"Yeah, it was cleanly rejected."

"What a shame. So he really had a lover? I thought you said he had a lover when you asked Yoo Jin-ha-ssi. Maybe that’s why."

"I said it just as a casual remark. Why are you changing your words now?"

The two of them argued as if they were about to fight over Hwang Hye-sung. They felt the awkward atmosphere and glanced at each other.

"Cheer up."

"It’s okay."

There was someone watching from afar, observing the people comforting each other and pretending to be unaffected.

"It should have been Shin Tae-oh, not me, who witnessed this. What a pity."

It was none other than Yoo Jin-hyun. Having witnessed the entire scene of Se-hyun being confessed to from the beginning to the end, he smiled with a sense of satisfaction and took out his phone. With a few taps, he called Shin Tae-oh and turned away without hesitation.

"It's me."

– What do you want?

"So cold. That makes me not want to tell you what I just saw."

– What?

“Hmm…”

Yoo Jin-hyun deliberately trailed off, contemplating how much more time he could buy. In the meantime, he opened his mouth, imagining what Se-hyun, who was just behind the closed door, would do.

"Thanks to you leaving early to buy a gift..."

Yoo Jin-hyun wore a smile of amusement as he successfully convinced Shin Tae-oh to return to the company first.

"Your secretary just got confessed to. It seems like the person they confessed to is a fellow employee in your company, but I can't remember their name. If you're curious, come and find out. I'll let you know who it is."

Why did he rush out to buy a gift then...

"As someone who witnessed it... Hello? Hey, Shin Tae-oh."

There was no sound, and when he looked at his phone, the screen showed that the call had ended.

—
As Se-hyun was about to go to a place where there was nobody around, he ended up back at the location where he received the album. It seemed like his attempt to clear the space was in vain. However, since he couldn't leave again, Se-hyun just plopped down heavily on a chair. He held onto the album that he had carefully brought with him, making sure not to forget it until the end.

"Why did I bother bringing this?"

Se-hyun couldn't help but burst into laughter at how absurd it all seemed. Suddenly, he became curious about the photos inside the album. Since he couldn't leave immediately anyway, he thought he would take a quick look.

Se-hyun gently caressed the cover of the album and carefully turned the pages as if opening Pandora's box.

“Wow…”

As soon as he saw the photo on the first page, Se-hyun couldn't help but exclaim in awe. An alpha with a towering height of 190 centimetres, whose appearance was surprisingly gentle despite his large build... he looked so adorable.

"You’re so cute."

Tae-oh turned into a soft and fluffy little child.

Excited, Se-hyun leaned closer to the album, burying his face in it.

"What is this? Is it even allowed to be this cute?"

Each page was filled with vivid photos, making it difficult for Se-hyun to turn them one by one. They captured Shin Tae-oh's childhood so vividly.

"This can't be true. Is this really Shin Tae-oh? It doesn't make any sense. Why is he so cute? What kind of cheeky baby was he?"

Being alone at the moment, Se-hyun spoke aloud to himself. There was no one to listen, and Shin Tae-oh was an incredibly adorable child. Se-hyun couldn't help but abandon his usual expression management and focus solely on the photos.

"Why did this innocent face turn into such a handsome one now?"

Se-hyun shook his head in amazement and turned to the next page.

"Then did he become a cheeky cat when he grew up?"

Since Tae-oh developed a liking for Yoo Jin-ha, Se-hyun wondered if he had acquired cat-like traits. It was a shame that there was no way to confirm it.

Yoo Jin-hyun’s talent as a photographer was evident even from his early years, to the extent that one could understand why he had become a renowned name in the field. Se-hyun was completely absorbed, finding it incredibly fascinating to see his boss's childhood.

Unbeknownst to him, the door had opened, and a tall figure had filled the space before him.

Chapter Text

While Se-hyun was still immersed in the photo album, the sudden vibration of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID and immediately answered.

"Yes, sir."

– Are you still not finished?

"I apologize. I will wrap it up."

"I apologize. I’ll wrap it up right away."

Only then did he realize how long he’d been sitting there. Everything else must have already been packed up, but he’d been too focused to notice. Flustered, Se-hyun hurriedly closed the album and stood up. When he stepped outside, the space he had left cluttered was now completely cleaned up.

Still on the call, he spoke quickly.

"I’ll double-check everything and head out."

- Please do so.

As the line disconnected, Se-hyun sighed and rubbed his forehead, frustrated with himself.

‘Seriously? I lost track of time… because of baby pictures?’

It was still working hours. Shaking off the distraction, he carefully set the album aside and composed himself.

—

Meanwhile, outside Yoo Jin-hyun’s studio, Shin Tae-oh stood with his arms crossed, tapping his phone while occasionally glancing toward the building. Though he couldn't see inside, he could tell Se-hyun was still moving around, likely cleaning up.

Yoo Jin-hyun appeared beside him, raising a brow.

"If you came all the way here, why didn’t you go inside? What were you doing out here?"

"I went in. Then came back out."

"Why’d you come out?"

"I saw something I shouldn’t have."

Shin Tae-oh’s words were layered with meaning, and Yoo Jin-hyun's expression twisted into a mischievous grin. It seemed that he had figured out who the person Se-hyun had confessed to was. It wasn’t hard to piece together. And while it was a shame that Shin Tae-oh’s one-sided affection might not be returned, curiosity got the better of him.

"So, how does it feel to find out something you didn’t know?"

"Hmm..."

Shin Tae-oh tilted his head, sunlight catching the angles of his face, highlighting the thoughtful crease between his brows.

"It’s... interesting."

"Interesting? That’s it?" Yoo Jin-hyun blinked. "I thought you'd hate it."

He shot Shin Tae-oh a sharp look. If Tae-oh really liked Se-hyun, it shouldn’t feel “interesting” to learn that he had just gotten a confession from someone else.

"If you say so, then maybe that's how it is...Do whatever you want, man," Yoo Jin-hyun muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Yoo Jin-hyun."

He turned with an exasperated sigh. "What now?"

"What was I like back then?"

Yoo Jin-hyun blinked. "...What? What kind of random question is that?"

He stammered slightly, his voice rising. His nerves flared as a flicker of guilt crossed his mind—had Shin Tae-oh found out he gave Se-hyun the album?

"Innocent?" Shin Tae-oh asked. "Or... charming?"

Yoo Jin-hyun was caught completely off guard.

"What's wrong?"

"What's gotten into you?" he frowned, now sure Tae-oh was just messing with him.

"Why would someone look at me like that?"
[note: i have no clue what this is supposed to mean]

The teasing smile that had been playing on Shin Tae-oh’s lips disappeared the moment the door opened behind them.

"Sir."

Se-hyun approached, a little breathless. "I came back to give something to Jin-hyun. Shall we head out together?"

"Understood."

Without sparing Yoo Jin-hyun another glance, Shin Tae-oh turned toward the car. Se-hyun quickly opened the backseat door and waited as he got in. Then, silently, they drove off.

Left alone, Yoo Jin-hyun watched them disappear down the road, rubbing the back of his neck with a sense of unease.

"He was strange even when we were young," he muttered. "But now... I really can’t tell what he’s thinking."

—

"Stop for a moment."

At Shin Tae-oh’s quiet command, the car slowed to a halt. Se-hyun instinctively looked out the window. They were in front of the high-end boutique Tae-oh often visited. Without hesitation, Se-hyun stepped out first and, as always, moved to open the back door.

First, a pair of long legs appeared, followed by a broad-shouldered frame. Shin Tae-oh emerged, his elegant features composed and unbothered. As usual, the heavy pheromones unique to an alpha like him lingered faintly in the air—an unintentional effect, yet impossible to ignore.

Feigning indifference to the pheromones, Se-hyun simply stood by until Shin Tae-oh passed him. But just a few steps in, Tae-oh paused and turned.

"Why are you doing this?"

His voice was casual, but his eyes were searching. One hand in his pocket, the other gesturing vaguely between Se-hyun and the car.

"So far, I’ve done everything you told me to do."

“…I’m sorry, sir? What do you mean?”

Who was doing what for whom?

Se-hyun blinked. It wasn’t the first time Shin Tae-oh’s words left him confused, but this time, they landed somewhere deeper—unsettling in their vagueness.

"You opened the door for me to get in, and opened it again for me to get out."

"Ah…"

Se-hyun nodded his head. He had done his job as a secretary and opened the door for Shin Tae-oh’s convenience. But if his words were interpreted this way, it was also correct.

"I'm not a child," Tae-oh continued. "You don’t need to keep opening the door for me."

“Understood.”

So, he was telling him to stop. A simple request—wrapped in layers of implication.

Why does he have to express it in such a roundabout way? It was impressive, Se-hyun mused. But he kept his face unreadable, as always.

Satisfied, Tae-oh turned again, but then halted.

"Oh, and one more thing."

“…Yes?”

"The reason you’ve been treating me like a kid."

‘I've never treated you that way, you bastard.’ Se-hyun bit his tongue.

With a physique and presence more mature than anyone else’s, what gave him that idea?

"I suppose I’ve always had a bit of an innocent side."

"I’ll… remember that."

Se-hyun opened his notebook and wrote down:

[Why is this guy like this?]

Tae-oh smirked, clearly amused.

"Of course, if you think differently—say, if you find me charming—then feel free to keep opening the door."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

‘What does he mean by “charming”? Aren’t innocence and charm kind of opposites? Or is this one of those alpha things?’

As they neared the store entrance, Se-hyun instinctively reached for the door—but froze mid-motion. Now what? Open it and risk “treating him like a child”? Don’t open it and be accused of flirting?

Why do I have to agonize over things like this?’

And then, warmth.

Before he even realized it, Shin Tae-oh had stepped up behind him—close enough that Se-hyun could feel the heat of his chest against his back. Trapped between the boutique door and the man’s solid frame, Se-hyun stiffened.

"If you’re not sure… I’ll open it this time."

Tae-oh’s arm reached past him, his large hand gripping the handle. Se-hyun’s eyes flickered to the veins running across the back of that hand—strangely prominent, oddly mesmerizing. Whenever he held a phone or a pen, even everyday objects looked small in comparison. There was something grounding about those hands, solid and unshakable.

"Should we stay here?"

Shin Tae-oh's breath whispered in his ear.

The words ghosted against his ear, sending a jolt down his spine.

"I—I'm sorry."

Just a surprise. That’s all it was. His heart was pounding only because he’d been startled. Nothing more.

Se-hyun stepped inside quickly, placing a hand over his chest as if to press the thudding down. It felt like he couldn’t draw a full breath.

Tae-oh entered silently behind him.

"Look around."

Confused, Se-hyun glanced up.

“…Why?”

"I thought maybe it was what you meant earlier."

"You’ll need to be more specific."

"You asked if I liked getting gifts."

Tae-oh’s expression was unreadable, but there was a glint of knowing behind his eyes.

"I’ll say it again. You don’t need to buy me anything."

Se-hyun remained firm. He wasn’t about to let himself get swept up in another of Tae-oh’s whims—especially not if it involved money.

"Then let me say my line again. Who am I trying to decieve?"

But Tae-oh simply looked around the store and replied, "Just looking. I won’t buy anything."

After receiving a definite answer that he wouldn't give me a gift, Se-hyun looked around with a slightly softened heart. Memories of giving gloves bought here to Yujin came to mind vividly.

They were now at his house.

With that thought, Se-hyun’s gaze drifted to the coats. If the gloves were high quality, surely the coats were too—lightweight, warm, luxurious.

He stepped toward them almost without thinking.

One caught his eye. Just for curiosity’s sake, he checked the price tag.

…Definitely not within budget. Even with a year-end bonus, it was beyond reach.

With a sigh, he lowered the tag. His own coat was warm enough.

And if he saved diligently, maybe his parents could rest easier too. That thought alone was enough to make him let go of any longing.

He turned to see what Shin Tae-oh was doing—only to meet his gaze directly.

‘Was he watching me the whole time?’

"If you’re done, shall we go?"

Tae-oh’s voice was neutral, but his eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary before he turned.

Once again, he held the door open.

And this time, Se-hyun said nothing.

—

“Can I really get off here?”

After dropping off Shin Tae-oh, they were finally going their separate ways for the day. But Se-hyun was caught off guard by a familiar car parked near his apartment.

"You had a busy day today."

He had gone to the studio and then to work, leaving well after working hours—it had been non-stop. Though Shin Tae-oh didn’t elaborate, his presence here said enough. It was as if he’d taken it upon himself to see Se-hyun home.

“…Thank you.”

No need to drag it out. Any more words would only invite more confusion, more questions he wasn’t ready to ask—or answer. So Se-hyun stepped back, creating distance.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

With that, the car window slid closed, and Shin Tae-oh’s vehicle quietly disappeared down the narrow alley.

“…Innocence. Charm.”

Se-hyun murmured the two words Tae-oh had dropped so casually earlier in the day. They echoed in his mind, strange and mismatched—yet somehow unsettling when paired together.

‘What was that even supposed to mean?’ No matter how he tried to make sense of it, he only ended up more confused.

Brushing it off as just another one of Tae-oh’s cryptic remarks, Se-hyun turned—

And froze.

A tall figure stood right in front of him, casting a long shadow in the dim evening light. The sudden presence was overwhelming, the silhouette too close, too familiar, and for a second, his breath caught in his throat.

Chapter Text

It was clear that the person was intentionally blocking Se-hyun’s path. He raised his eyes to see who was standing before him.

The moment their gaze met, Se-hyun instinctively took a step back, his muscles tensing.

‘Why is Ha Jin-seong in front of my house?’

Had he seen Tae-oh drop him off? Was that why he was here, waiting like this?

"Do you remember me?"

Whether it was something he expected from Se-hyun’s reaction or not, Ha Jin-seong slowly straightened his posture. There was enough space between them to breathe, yet Se-hyun’s chest felt strangely tight.

This wasn’t like being around Shin Tae-oh. It wasn’t comfort wrapped in control—it was something jagged, sharp, intrusive. He swallowed.

It wasn’t their first encounter, but something about this felt fundamentally different.

‘This isn’t curiosity. There’s a reason this time.’

Unlike before, Ha Jin-seong wasn’t just observing. He was here with a purpose—and Se-hyun’s instincts recoiled from it.

Se-hyun thought it unlikely, but it turned out that Ha Jin-seong had been waiting here to see Se-hyun.

For a moment, he composed himself and met Ha Jin-seong’s gaze, feigning composure. He couldn't afford to show a single crack.

"How can I help you?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Se-hyun blinked. ’What question?’

He rifled through their past interaction in his head, trying to figure out what Jin-seong was referring to. It wasn’t surprising—the man liked talking in riddles and expecting people to decipher them.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to."

‘And I don’t care enough to try remembering.’

Ha Jin-seong wasn’t someone Se-hyun owed attention, much less patience.

"Are you pretending not to be interested in me, or are you really not interested?"

Ha Jin-seong was interpreting his response however he pleased. A question so self-absorbed it nearly made Se-hyun scoff. This man really believed he was the gravitational center of every room. But the real protagonists of this world were Ha Min-hyuk and Yoo Jin-ha.

Jin-seong tapped his lips thoughtfully, posture unwavering. It was enough to make anyone around him feel on edge.

"I told you to come to me."

"If that’s what you’re talking about, I already answered."

"It seemed like I gave you time to think."

"So…"

Why was this conversation so hard to steer?

"Tell me what you want."

It was then, just as Se-hyun was debating how blunt he could afford to be, that the conversation took an unexpected turn. Ha Jin-seong was trying to scout him for a job.

"I'll give you a house. And a car."

Se-hyun didn’t hesitate. “Even if you say that, my answer remains the same.”

It wasn’t a proposal worth considering. When he first became Se-hyun, he could have chosen Ha Jin-seong—tempted by the promise of luxury. A house, a car, more money than he could make in a lifetime.

But that had never been what he wanted.

He wanted stability.

He had chosen the safest path in this novel—to live honestly, on a regular salary, without danger pay or entanglements.

And Ha Jin-seong was exactly the kind of person he had to keep at a distance.

"I decline."

"Is that loyalty speaking? Or was my offer not good enough?"

Jin-seong asked the question with genuine curiosity, then smirked. His smile, sly and sharp, curled like a fox’s.

Se-hyun asked if it bothered him, Ha Jin-seong softened his sly expression and said it was okay.

“After all, sweet kisses are the best, right?”

At this point, Se-hyun gave up on trying to comprehend Ha Jin-seong's words seriously.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something he'd tucked away while tidying up earlier. He usually didn’t carry it, but it was there for a reason.

"Think carefully. It’s better to come to me while I’m still being polite..."

Se-hyun shoved a candy into Jin-seong’s mouth mid-sentence, cutting him off.

Caught off guard, Jin-seong’s eyes darted in surprise. Se-hyun, finally, felt better—relieved to silence the nonsense, if only for a moment.

The tension in his shoulders eased. The alley returned to its usual quiet. Now that he understood Jin-seong’s intentions, there was no need to stay on edge.

"You mentioned something sweet. This reminded me. Enjoy the candy and have a nice day."

He offered a short smile. "As for me, I have to prepare to welcome our very capable CEO Shin Tae-oh tomorrow, so I’ll be heading in."

With that, he wrapped it up—made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere with Jin-seong—and walked past him.

"I’ll come again. Be ready with a different answer next time."

‘I don't want to.’

—

Se-hyun changed into comfortable clothes and lay down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, he thought back over the day’s events.

It had been a fairly busy day, but what lingered most in his mind was—

"Gifts… Do you like them?"

The vivid memory of Taenyangi's shiny eyes came to mind.

"Ha…"

Turning his head, Se-hyun looked toward the small kitchen. Expensive dishes, stacked neatly yet precariously in a pitiful cabinet, clinked faintly.

Of course, they all were bought by Shin Tae-oh, but he ended up bringing quite a lot of them to Se-hyun’s own house instead of leaving them at his place. But rather than leaving them at his own place, Tae-oh had ended up bringing most of them to Se-hyun’s house. Normally, bosses didn’t bring gifts to a secretary’s home.

In novels or dramas, secretaries handled everything discreetly at the boss's mansion, vanishing like shadows..

"Should I quit?"

He was still genuinely grateful that Shin Tae-oh hadn’t demanded his resignation after discovering the truth about his secondary gender. Yet, now, Se-hyun found himself hesitating—wondering if it would be better to leave.

It seemed Shin Tae-oh was truly interested in him. Romantically.

"That's not normal."

He shouldn’t stray from the original storyline.

But what made him hesitate even more... was the simple truth: he didn’t think he could accept Shin Tae-oh’s feelings.

"I... can't."

Se-hyun quickly sat up and grabbed the phone he’d tossed aside earlier.

"Let’s find a new place."

He had some savings. Not a fortune, but enough to take a few months off if necessary.

On impulse, he opened a job recruitment site and started browsing. But before he could scroll far, his phone vibrated. It was a call from his mother.

"Hello."

— It’s mom.

"Yes, what's wrong?”

— What’s wrong? It’s been so long since we talked. I just wanted to hear your voice.

Had it really been that long? Se-hyun thought idly as he glanced around the room. His fingers absentmindedly brushed over the buttons on the coffee machine. The memory of Shin Tae-oh's confused expression when he caught him fiddling with it made him smile.

Realizing he was still on the call, he refocused on his mother’s voice. There was a brief silence on the line, and he worried the call had dropped. But then—

— By any chance, do you have some money?

Something must be wrong.

A heavy feeling settled over him.

"Is everything okay? What happened?"

Sensing her hesitation, Se-hyun pressed gently.

—Well, your father insisted on going up the mountain despite the bad weather. He slipped in the rain...

The moment she said "slipped," Se-hyun sat up straight.

"Is it serious? I’ll come right away."

— No, no, it’s not that bad. He just stretched a ligament. But... during the examination, they found a very small lump. They want to perform surgery.

"A lump?"

— Yes. It’s nothing urgent, but it bothers him. He thought he might as well have it removed while he’s recovering... The problem is the surgery cost. I should have gotten insurance back then...

Her words stumbled over themselves, weighed down by guilt and worry.

"I actually got a bonus this time. I was planning to send you something anyway. Don’t worry. Go ahead with the surgery. I’ll find time to come visit."

He spoke quickly, firmly, before she could hesitate any longer. After ending the call, Se-hyun lay back on the bed, the weight of a new silence pressing down.

He would need to send most of his savings home. As for himself...

‘I’ll work hard to support them.’

He whispered the promise aloud, directing it toward the coffee machine as if it could carry the vow for him.

There was no longer any question. He couldn't afford a break. Next month, and for many months after, he would continue working—steadily, quietly, and without hesitation.

—

"Good morning."

Shin Tae-oh, who had been just about to leave the house, stopped at Se-hyun’s greeting and gave a slight nod.

"What’s wrong, Sir?"

"I feel like something like this has happened before."

His eyes swept over Se-hyun from head to toe. Then, thoughtfully, he stroked his chin.

"You were diligent before, but now you seem even more diligent. Sharper, too. Did you make some sort of resolution yesterday?"

It was because he didn’t want to quit—but instead of answering truthfully, Se-hyun gripped his tablet tighter and smiled.

"I had a good meal, that’s all."

In reality, he’d skipped breakfast, anxious about his father’s health. But it was an easy excuse.

"Oh, the power of food. Rice is strength, huh."

Shin Tae-oh nodded vaguely and then held out a paper bag he’d been carrying. Not so much offering it as ordering him to take it.

"Here."

"...Is this a gift?"

"That’s right."

Even though he said he wouldn’t accept anything.

Se-hyun glanced down at the paper bag in his hands, hesitating. Tae-oh seemed to anticipate it and raised an eyebrow.

"You’re not going to reject it without even looking, are you?"

"Ah..."

Right.

Now that he thought about it, he’d refused without even checking what it was.

Reluctantly, Se-hyun peeked inside. A tumbler?

"What is this?"

"Porridge."

...Why porridge?

"Because it’s hard to work on an empty stomach. Eat it."

With that, Shin Tae-oh turned and left.

"...What."

Se-hyun stood there, unsure which part of the situation he should be reacting to.

Was the issue that his stomach was empty?

Or that it was porridge, of all things, and now he felt like he couldn’t refuse?

Chapter Text

Since Shin Tae-oh had hurriedly left, Se-hyun didn’t even get a chance to correct him.

"If you don't come, I'll go up first."

The boss grabbed the elevator and waited, leaving Se-hyun no time to hesitate.

"I apologize."

Se-hyun quickly entered the elevator, making sure not to block Shin Tae-oh's way. He positioned himself neatly to the side, close enough to press the buttons without getting in the way. After pressing the "close" button, he suddenly felt a strange presence beside him.

Why...

‘Why is he beside me?’

Whenever they shared the elevator, Se-hyun always positioned himself slightly behind or diagonally in front of Shin Tae-oh—out of the way, ready to press the buttons, to hold the door. But now, standing side by side like this... it felt oddly intimate. Awkward.

Curious, Se-hyun glanced at him.

‘It's the same face I see every day.’

There was nothing different about Shin Tae-oh’s appearance. And yet, somehow, it felt different. Unsettling.

‘The atmosphere is…different.’

There was no playful smile, no teasing in his eyes. His gaze was steady, focused, clear—as if he had already decided exactly what he wanted to see.

Why am I staring at him like this?
And more importantly, what reaction is he expecting from me?

As Se-hyun struggled to find a natural way to break the tension, the mechanical chime of the elevator echoed.

"First floor."

A timely excuse.

Se-hyun stepped out first, pressing the "open" button to hold the doors. Behind him, Shin Tae-oh sauntered out with unhurried, confident steps, as if he had all the time in the world.

"What shall we do?"

Shin Tae-oh’s voice was light, almost casual—but still filled with too many unspoken meanings.

Se-hyun decided not to waste energy trying to figure it out.

"Let's just go for now."

As soon as Shin Tae-oh turned away, Se-hyun let out a long, exhausted breath.

‘Why on earth is he acting like that?’

It had always been strange—working for Shin Tae-oh—but now it felt like the strangeness had been upgraded to a whole new level.

‘Why are you being so smooth?’

Se-hyun shivered once, as if shaking off the lingering weirdness, and collapsed into his seat at his desk.

Today was going to be a long day. He could already tell.

—

Se-hyun sat down and began cleaning his desk. Dust had quietly gathered during his few days away. He cracked open the window, retrieved a duster from the drawer, and began meticulously wiping down every corner when someone stopped in front of him.

It was Lee Jin-ho, the head of the secretary's office.

"How does it feel to finally sit down again?"

"It’s refreshing."

To anyone else, it might have sounded like he'd been gone for months—but it had only been three days. Still, as a performing secretary, Se-hyun spent more time on his feet than at his desk, so it did feel that way.

"Don’t overdo it. Oh, and this—"

Lee Jin-ho handed over an envelope. Se-hyun took it without much thought, then looked up at him.

"What is it?"

"A restaurant voucher. A junior from school gave it to me, but you go ahead and use it."

"...Are you sure I can accept this?"

He hesitated, the gesture feeling unexpectedly generous.

"I’ve already been there a few times. Think of it as a treat."

From nearby desks came subtle murmurs—clearly, others had overheard. There was a hint of envy in the air.

"It’s for the person who’s suffered the most."

With that softly spoken truth, the room fell quiet.

‘Did I just earn their recognition?’

Lee Jin-ho gave a knowing smile.

"Come on, would I give it to you if it wasn’t appropriate? Go enjoy it."

He turned to leave, as if the conversation was over—but then paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Go with your lover."

"...What?"

"It’s a nice place. Better to go with someone than alone."

This time, Chief Lee Jin-ho left for real, looking rather pleased with himself.

Left alone, Se-hyun turned back to his desk. With nowhere else to put them, he placed the meal voucher on the freshly cleaned surface—next to the tumbler Shin Tae-oh had given him that morning.

Two gifts, sitting side by side.

He stared at them for a moment, then reached for the voucher. The name of the restaurant was embossed in elegant silver on thick paper. It was the kind of place where a single meal could cost a small fortune.

The tumbler, in contrast, was plain. There was no brand name, no decoration. Just a simple, practical item.

‘I'm confused.’

If he hadn’t spent so much time by Shin Tae-oh’s side—if he hadn’t seen Yoo Jin-ha coldly reject every gift Shin Tae-oh tried to give—he might not have felt this conflicted.

He picked up the tumbler and examined it again.

"This one’s not expensive."

No reason to reject it, then. No need to add to Shin Tae-oh’s growing list of failed attempts.

He took a cautious sip.

His eyes lingered on the meal voucher.

—

Shin Tae-oh stood with his arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

"Why isn’t he reacting?"

"It hasn’t even been ten minutes," Lee Jin-ho replied, checking his watch with a sigh.

Shin Tae-oh pulled out his phone and tapped the screen twice.

"Look. No messages."

"It’s been eleven minutes now."

"Exactly. Eleven minutes." Shin Tae-oh looked at Lee Jin-ho as if asking what to do next. Caught in that heavy gaze, Lee Jin-ho gave in and mumbled a response.

"Then just go ask him directly—ask who he’s planning to take to the restaurant."

His tone carried a touch of exasperation. He’d only followed orders, yet here he was, bearing the brunt of dissatisfaction.

"No, wouldn’t it have made more sense if you gave him the voucher yourself? That way, we’d have known the answer by now. Instead, you’re waiting for him to bring it up like it’s some kind of romantic comedy—"

"A date?"

Shin Tae-oh repeated the word, disturbed.

"You think this looks like a date?"

"Then what is it?" Lee Jin-ho asked, completely fed up. "You did ask me to offer a date on your behalf."

Shin Tae-oh suddenly smiled. The anxiety tied to that word—date—seemed to evaporate. With renewed calm, he turned to Jin-ho and lightly flicked a finger in the air.

"Could you go and check for me?"

"I refuse."

"A chief secretary can’t refuse the CEO’s request."

"What kind of nonsense is that?"

Shin Tae-oh clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Secretary Ahn wouldn’t complain. He’d just do it."

"Then ask your secretary," Lee Jin-ho snapped back. "Go ahead and give the voucher to Ahn Se-hyun yourself. Just pretend it's from you. Don’t forget to mention bringing a significant other."

He threw the exact instructions he'd been given right back at Shin Tae-oh.

"How can I ask myself to do something I already did?"

""Then stop complaining. Otherwise, I'll find someone else to be in charge instead of me."

"Audacious."

Lee Jin-ho clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"You’re one to talk. Maybe Se-hyun knows who’s worse. Then again, maybe not. I doubt he realizes that the porridge you gave him this morning was actually my doing."

"And I intend to take that secret to my grave."

"As you should. Wouldn’t look great for the CEO if people found out you called me at dawn because your porridge was burnt and inedible. Three hours of my morning, gone—for a gift that he might not even accept."

Lee Jin-ho shot an arrow of sarcasm at Shin Tae-oh with a smile. He expressed his dissatisfaction with being called out since dawn.

Lee Jin-ho’s sarcasm was like a knife, but Shin Tae-oh merely chuckled.

"I’ll repay you generously."

“…”

"In that case, I’ll keep working hard."

That was just how things went in this company.

"How long has it been now?"

Shin Tae-oh, still impatient, prompted again.

"Fifteen minutes."

"When on earth is he coming—"

Knock, knock.

Both men looked at the door, then at each other, before quickly straightening up. Like schoolboys pretending they hadn’t been caught gossiping.

"Sir."

It was Se-hyun.

Seeing him enter, Shin Tae-oh leaned back in his chair, regaining his usual composed expression. But Jin-ho didn’t miss the faint twitch in the CEO’s brow.

"What is it?"

"We received a call from the client regarding this week’s meeting."

The reactions couldn’t have been more different: Shin Tae-oh frowned; Lee Jin-ho fought back laughter.

"What did they say?"

"They're requesting a postponement."

"If they want it postponed, so be it."

Shin Tae-oh sighed and spun his chair toward the window, turning his face away— He was probably trying to hide his expression from Se-hyun, but only Lee Jin-ho had the pleasure of witnessing it.

Then Se-hyun, looking slightly confused, asked, "Should we reschedule it for the nearest available date?"

"You look too busy to even eat. What’s the point of rescheduling with Seongha..."

"Excuse me?"

Waving dismissively, Shin Tae-oh left the question hanging. Lee Jin-ho stepped in, trying to cover for him.

"Se-hyun, you know that every construction company is vying for this project, right? Could you find out why they wanted it postponed?"

Lee Jin-ho spoke on behalf of Shin Tae-oh, feeling a sense of regret, and Se-hyeon shook her head.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t ask the reason."

"If you didn’t ask, then I doubt she meant to say anything..."

Jin-ho trailed off, frustrated. Just then, Shin Tae-oh rose from his chair.

"We’ll ask directly."

"No way... Are you saying you'll go?"

Lee Jin-ho blinked in disbelief.

"Well, they can't keep their mouth shut even when they see my face. Where is the place located?"

As Shin Tae-oh took the lead, Se-hyun instinctively followed. Lee Jin-ho, flipping through notes for the address, suddenly froze.

The client’s office was near the restaurant listed on the voucher.

"I’ll be back by lunch," Shin Tae-oh said with casual ease, "so don’t worry about my meal."

With that, he walked out with Se-hyun in tow.

Left behind, Lee Jin-ho stared at the closed door.

"That’s fishy, very fishy."

The CEO, heading out for lunch—right next to the fancy restaurant he had gifted Se-hyun.

Chapter Text

Seongha was an interior design company. Although it hadn’t been around long, it was growing rapidly thanks to the unique sensibilities of its CEO.

Why did Shin Tae-oh, the CEO of a company specializing in new construction, want to meet with Seongha, which focused on interiors for existing buildings?

‘Because it’s pretty.’

Shin Tae-oh had taken personal action because he wanted to break away from monotonous interiors. But when Seongha contacted them to postpone the meeting, he decided to find out what had happened in person.

"Hello."

Se-hyun entered first, planning to assess the situation and then call Shin Tae-oh inside.

"Hello. Where are you from?" asked the woman sitting nearby.

Se-hyun pulled a business card from his case.

"I’m Ahn Se-hyun from SR Construction."

He offered the card with a professional smile, and the woman's stern face softened slightly. Indeed, a warm smile filled with kindness was the best way to lower the other person's guard.

"But what should we do now? The meeting was postponed because the CEO isn't available."

"That’s okay. I just came to check if something happened. If there's anything I can assist with, I’m happy to help."

"Oh my."

As Se-hyun spoke with concern, the woman’s expression relaxed—and then she suddenly became busy.

"My name is Han Jeong-hwa. Here’s my card."

"Thank you. I'll keep it preciously."

"Preciously..."

How can each word be so beautifully spoken?

"Ah, I almost forgot. Have this and stay strong."

Se-hyun handed her a small bottle. Jeong-hwa, still fixated on his face, accepted it without thinking. Only after feeling its weight in her hand did she finally look down at the bottle.

"Oh my..."

A ribbon was neatly tied around it, and a label read, “Stay strong today”. For some reason, it touched her heart. Maybe it was just the stress of dealing with so many difficult visitors lately.

People from large corporations always seemed arrogant. When she tried to explain the delay, they treated her as if she were beneath them.

But this man...

Clutching the bottle tightly, Han Jeong-hwa softened further.

"The CEO is on a business trip—not just lazing around. Once he leaves, we never really know when he’ll return, so we rescheduled the meeting. Please don’t read anything into it."

She offered the explanation smoothly.

"Thank you for letting me know."

"I should be the one thanking you. I’ll contact you personally once the CEO is back."

She handed over the card and repeated the promise a few times.

Se-hyun bowed his head in gratitude. Since Shin Tae-oh had wanted to make a good impression, this visit had gone quite well.

After exchanging parting words with Jeong-hwa, Se-hyun stepped outside—but stopped after a few steps.

"You were here?"

He had told him to wait in the car. Why was he standing outside? Still, Se-hyun didn’t press the matter.

"Not here—over there," Shin Tae-oh said, gesturing toward the door.

"Then why didn’t you come in…?"

Se-hyun wondered aloud if he’d wanted to greet the Seongha CEO. But Shin Tae-oh just gave a faint smile. It looked casual—almost too casual.

"I came to see the CEO. But thanks to you, I got a nice view instead."

The door had been glass. So yes, he could’ve seen everything. But what was there to see?

Se-hyun had only spoken with Han Jeong-hwa, and the office itself was plain.

"I really don’t appreciate that smile of yours," Se-hyun muttered.

This Taenyangi again.

"If you're talking about my smile, it’s a lubricant for smooth conversation."

"I should’ve gone in myself. I can make people laugh too, you know."

Just then, Se-hyun imagined Shin Tae-oh smiling at Han Jeong-hwa.

’What was that?’

Unconsciously, he placed a hand on his chest. A strange feeling had passed through him, but he couldn’t quite name it.

‘Was it just my imagination?’

He let the thought go.

"They’ll contact us once the CEO returns. Shall we head back to the office?"

As Se-hyun prepared to follow Shin Tae-oh’s lead, he pulled out his phone to inform the chief secretary.

Then Shin Tae-oh suddenly stopped and turned to him.

"Aren’t you hungry?"

The question came out of nowhere.

He threw an unexpected question.

"I’ll make a reservation."

Se-hyun opened a map app instead of pulling up his contact list. Maybe Shin Tae-oh hadn’t eaten breakfast.

He hadn’t checked on that after giving him the porridge. Feeling a twinge of guilt for missing it, Se-hyun scanned nearby restaurants on his phone.

"What are you doing?"

Shin Tae-oh leaned in. His chest brushed Se-hyun’s shoulder, and his face came too close. If he turned his head even slightly, their lips might have met.

"I'm… um… looking for a place to go..."

She had to reshuffle the entire schedule because of Shin Tae-oh’s visit. Compared to the chief secretary sorting out documents, finding a restaurant wasn’t much—but her mind was still spinning.

‘Focus. Pull yourself together.’

Se-hyun couldn't turn to look at Shin Tae-oh and hesitated, but suddenly Tae-oh’s hand reached up.

He flinched. Se-hyun’s attention was completely focused on him, wondering how he should react to his hand. It would be better if Shin Tae-oh didn't notice.

"Are you cold? Why are you shaking?"

‘Yeah, what am I expecting from you?’

Se-hyun casually stepped forward, pretending to look around. He’d been waiting for Tae-oh to back away anyway.

Before he could say anything more, Se-hyun spoke up first.

"There’s a Japanese restaurant nearby. Should I make a reservation?"

"I’m not in the mood for sushi."

…they also sell cooked food.

"Then I'll make a reservation at a Korean restaurant."

"I'm not really in the mood for carbs..."

Just because it’s a Korean restaurant, does it only sell rice?

"I'll check for a Western-style restaurant."

"There was a restaurant around here, right?"

Se-hyun inwardly sighed realizing that he already had something in mind.

Anyway, since Shin Tae-oh asked, he immediately searched the area on his phone. Then he noticed a familiar name.

"Here..."

It was the restaurant where he received a meal voucher from the chief secretary earlier in the morning.

"Is it called Once Restaurant by any chance?"

"That sounds good."

"Alright."

With Shin Tae-oh’s approval, Se-hyun hit the call button. As the phone rang, he stole a glance at him.

What a coincidence—the restaurant he’d been eager to try, the one he’d received a gift voucher for with innocent intentions.

So why did it feel like someone else’s feelings were tied up in all of this?

—

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Se-hyun took a slow look around.

Located within a hotel, the place exuded quiet elegance—and steep prices. Just thinking about dining here without paying stirred another wave of gratitude for the chief secretary. He had handed over a voucher for this very restaurant earlier that day.

‘If this happens again, Father will be disappointed,’ Se-hyun mused.

Jin-ho Lee, the chief secretary, currently ranked fourth on Se-hyun’s personal list of favorite people. Father was second.

Each time they met, his father would ask—half in jest, half in earnest—what his current ranking was. The number never changed, which seemed to comfort him. Still, no matter how grateful Se-hyun felt toward the chief secretary, it didn’t feel right to place him above his own father.

A brief debate flickered in his head: second or fourth? Ultimately, he decided, the positions must remain as they were. Some things were unchangeable.

“What are you doing? Ah…”

The low voice broke his thoughts. Se-hyun realized too late that he’d fallen behind. Shin Tae-oh was already at their table, having not only called him over but also pulled out a chair.

Frozen a few steps away, Se-hyun hesitated. It felt awkward to approach.

‘What are you doing, Taenyang? If you pulled out the chair, then sit down already.’

As he stepped forward, intending to remain standing until he could observe what Tae-oh would order and place the order on his behalf.

"What are we doing standing side by side?"

“You can sit down, sir,” Se-hyun replied calmly.

The answer, simple and factual, made one of Tae-oh’s brows twitch slightly—barely perceptible, but unmistakable.

Was something wrong?

“Do you know there’s nothing sadder than eating alone?”

‘But you’ve eaten alone plenty of times,’ Se-hyun thought.

Still, it dawned on him—had Tae-oh pulled the chair out for him?

The realization made his skin prickle. He hadn’t expected that kind of gesture, and didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“The food here is good,” Tae-oh added casually.

Se-hyun had originally planned to visit this place alone later, using the voucher. There hadn’t been any reason to sit across from his boss, especially not like this. But then—

“Let’s eat together.”

Shin Tae-oh's tone became stiff.

The tone was short. A little too firm.

“…Understood,” Se-hyun said, and quickly pulled out the other chair and sat down

He glanced at Tae-oh, as if to say, Are you satisfied now? Tae-oh, in turn, looked between their chairs with a brief, unreadable expression.

"He's really sensitive..." the man muttered as he took his own seat—ironically, the same chair he had pulled out earlier.

‘He’s acting like I’m the one being difficult,’ Se-hyun thought dryly.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to the director, letting him know they’d return to the company after lunch. Then he looked around the restaurant. Classy. Understated. And expensive.

‘Since I’m here anyway, maybe I’ll offer to pay…’

Then it hit him.

‘Wait—I didn’t bring the meal voucher.’

He’d placed it carefully in his desk drawer that morning, thinking he’d come alone some other time.

Chapter Text

The salmon salad arrived as an appetizer—lightly seared on the outside, the flesh inside tender and glistening. A delicate sauce pooled around it, and the garnish atop the dish was artful, almost too perfect to touch.

It was beautiful. Almost mesmerizing. Se-hyun couldn’t help but think… it was exactly Shin Tae-oh personified.

So refined, so exquisite, yet never the main course. Just something to stimulate the senses before moving on.

‘A dish like that… that’s exactly who he is.’

“What are you thinking about?” came a low voice.

Se-hyun blinked and looked up. “Ah… I was just thinking it’s too pretty to eat.”

It wasn’t exactly what he had been thinking, but it was close enough. Considering that he was thinking about Taenyangi

“If it really looked delicious,” Tae-oh said, “you’d already have eaten it. But today, you’re hesitating.”

“Do I usually not?”

Se-hyun paused, reflecting. He rarely hesitated over food, especially when dining with Tae-oh. King crab had to be filleted quickly, ramen eaten before it turned soggy. He was always efficient, never sentimental.

But now, here he was—staring at the plate in silence, distracted by thoughts he couldn’t explain.

“Do you know what happens if you don’t eat it before the next course?” Tae-oh asked, voice low and calm.

Se-hyun glanced at the salmon again. What would happen?

“It gets thrown away.”

“…Thrown away?”

Tae-oh’s words were pointed, and suddenly, Se-hyun understood.

“No matter how beautiful something is,” Tae-oh continued, cutting a piece of salmon from Se-hyun’s plate, “it’s not meant to be admired forever.”

He scooped the piece of salmon up with a fork, coated it in sauce, and brought it close to Se-hyun’s mouth.

“You have to taste it. Sometimes the appetizer is more memorable than the main course.”

As if pulled by an invisible thread, Se-hyun leaned forward and took the bite. He didn’t think—just responded, mouth opening automatically at the unspoken command.

The salmon was soft, perfectly seasoned. But he barely registered the taste.

The appetizer is beautiful.

Tae-oh is the appetizer.

Therefore…

Tae-oh is delicious?

The thought slid through his mind before he could stop it, catching him completely off guard. While his tongue processed flavor, his brain spiraled into something else entirely.

"Secretary Ahn?"

Se-hyun snapped back to reality.

“I apologize,” he said instinctively.

"For what? You’re eating very well."

“…It’s nothing.”

He couldn’t exactly admit that he’d been comparing his boss to a fish.

Flustered, he picked up his fork and began eating what remained of the salad—now slightly disturbed, but still beautiful.

[note: this is referencing to the first chapter if you haven't realized :3]

—

After confidently finishing the final dessert, Se-hyun leaned back in his seat, one lingering thought swirling in his mind…

‘The appetizer was the most delicious.’

The richness of the main course had overwhelmed the earlier flavors, yet strangely, it was the salmon salad that lingered in his memory. Light, clean, unforgettable.

“Well, since we’ve enjoyed our meal, let’s settle the bill…”

At the mention of payment, Se-hyun stiffened slightly and reached for his wallet.

“I’ll take care of it,” Shin Tae-oh offered casually.

But Se-hyun shook his head. Tae-oh had barely touched his food, while he himself had practically licked every plate clean. Especially after Tae-oh had casually mentioned that any leftovers would go to waste—he’d ended up overeating.

“If you insist,” Tae-oh replied, rising from his seat with a faint smile.

Misreading the smile as a subtle jab—a reminder that he’d been freeloading off Tae-oh far too often—Se-hyun wordlessly pulled out his card. A wave of guilt passed through him.

‘Well, I’ve eaten a lot with Taenyangi’s money…’

How shameless could he be, even if he was just a secretary? No wonder Shin Tae-oh liked to mock him.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, Se-hyun made his way toward the cashier.

‘I want to come again next time.’

Even if the place was expensive, the vouchers he received as gifts would make a perfect excuse to bring his parents.

As he walked, Tae-oh suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. His grip was firm, nearly causing Se-hyun to drop the card in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Se-hyun asked.

Se-hyun saw Shin Tae-oh examined his card and realized belatedly why he was acting like this.

"This is my card."

It seemed like he mistook it for Shin Tae-oh's card that he always carries. So he raised it to make sure that his name was clearly visible on the card.

“It’s mine,” he said flatly.

Even after confirming it, Tae-oh didn’t let go.

“I said I’d pay,” he muttered.

But before Se-hyun could respond, his gaze drifted past Tae-oh—catching sight of a familiar face in the distance.

Ha Jin-seong.

They didn’t make eye contact. Se-hyun had just… noticed him. But what made it hard to look away was the expression on Ha Jin-seong’s face—worn, pale, distant.

‘Why is he here?’

As Se-hyun continued to gaze at Ha Jin-seong, Shin Tae-oh belatedly turned his head to confirm the person he was referring to.

"What’s that loser doing here?"

"It seems like he came here to have a meal,” Se-hyun replied flatly.

“With a face like that? He looks ready to collapse at any moment.”

Tae-oh observed him for another moment, then lost interest.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said, gesturing for Se-hyun to follow. “We’re not here to socialize.”

Se-hyun nodded. Ever since that strange, vaguely threatening recruitment attempt from Ha Jin-seong, he had been uneasy about him.

Since Ha Jin-seong hadn't seen him, it was obvious that nothing would happen if they just ignored each other and left.

‘He's the antagonist, after all,’ Se-hyun thought. ‘The less involvement, the better.’

He was about to turn away when Tae-oh reached for the card again.

“I didn’t mean for you to pay with your card,” he said. “I can't take advantage of your paycheck when your salary is thin."

With that, he smoothly took the card from Se-hyun and gave him a look that wordlessly demanded his own card in return. But Se-hyun just closed his wallet.

“I left your card at home,” he said with a straight face. “Could you handle it?”

Tae-oh sighed but said nothing, resuming his walk toward the register. Se-hyun followed in step.

Shin Tae-oh resumed his steps, and Se-hyun followed him.

As for Ha Jin-seong… Whatever.

He didn’t know what was going on with him. But something… something didn’t sit right.

‘Where else can you find someone as tenacious as him.’

‘Still, don’t torment Ha Min-hyuk anymore,’ he thought bitterly. ‘If you really hate someone, do it like Jin-seong. Quietly. Thoroughly. So this momentary difficulty will pass soon.’

It will pass…

“Ha…” A breath escaped him. Se-hyun stopped walking.

‘I can't just ignore it.’

He knew that Ha Jin-seong is a bastard... he knew it in his head, but his body didn't listen.

‘I should let it go… but my feet won’t move.’

However, Se-hyun felt like if he turned away, he’d regret it. He could already picture himself curled under a blanket later, suffocating with guilt.

To be precise, the guilt of following along and knowing why Ha Jin-seong was acting this way weighed heavily on him.

His eyes found Jin-seong again. Now even his lips were trembling, and his breathing seemed unsteady.

‘Right now, the truth can’t come out yet. That’s Ha Min-hyuk’s role in the story.’

So, Se-hyun rationalized his efforts not to deviate from the original timeline and turned towards Ha Jin-seong.

Ha Jin-seong sat slumped, clearly unwell, though surrounded by others. Panic shimmered around him like a fog. As Se-hyun approached, he noticed that his face had turned pale and he had beads of cold sweat on his forehead.

“Oppa, what’s wrong with you?” a woman asked sharply—someone Se-hyun vaguely recognized.

“Hey, calm down. Jin-seong, are you okay?” another man said, his voice rising with concern.

As he approached Ha Jin-seong, Se-hyun could feel the surrounding pheromones—some sweet like honey from omegas, others cool and firm from alphas—but there was nothing coming from Jin-seong. No scent at all.

Something was very wrong.

"If you're in pain, you should let me know now… What’s wrong with you?" Se-hyun recalled that the woman might be Jin Hye-in from Jinmyeong Group, but didn’t receive an answer.

Without a word, Se-hyun stepped closer and gave the wine glass on the table a subtle nudge.

Splash.

​​Red wine poured across Jin-seong’s shirt and down to the rug-covered floor. The glass didn’t break, but the scene caused enough of a stir.

“Kyaa!” the woman screamed, jumping up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The woman—Jin Hye-in, he recalled—pointed a trembling finger at him, shocked recognition spreading across her face.

Se-hyun ignored her and addressed Jin-seong.

“I’m sorry. I came over to greet you and accidentally knocked the glass over. But… you should probably go and change.”

Jin-seong looked down at his soaked shirt, blinking slowly.

"The scent of wine is overpowering."

Seeing Ha Jin-seong's wavering gaze, Se-hyun quickly added, "You can send me the dry cleaning bill."

After all, since he already knew enough to come to his house, a bit of information like that wouldn’t matter.

Se-hyun handed him his business card and walked away without looking back. Fortunately, Shin Tae-oh was not far away.

Shin Tae-oh was waiting nearby, receipt in hand.

“I thought you were trying to help,” Tae-oh remarked, glancing from Jin-seong to Se-hyun.

“...But you spilled wine?”

He didn’t sound surprised. Se-hyun figured he’d seen everything. He didn't think it would be hidden anyway, so there was no need to manage his expressions separately.

“It was an accident,” Se-hyun said, repeating the same words he’d used earlier.

Tae-oh raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further.

“Well, if you say so.”

He showed his phone, which was vibrating again.

"Let's go. The chief secretary keeps calling."

Se-hyun nodded his head.

"I’m not even the one doing the signing, why is he so nervous about not being able to show the documents properly?"

“Even if it’s just a report, the CEO needs to be informed,” Se-hyun replied easily.

“Well… not many are as hands-on as I am.”

He resumed walking, falling into step beside Se-hyun, effortlessly shifting the conversation to lighter topics. It was his way of protecting Se-hyun—by pulling his thoughts elsewhere.

Behind them, unnoticed, a pair of eyes followed their retreating figures.

Ha Jin-seong, who had somehow recovered from the shock, couldn't take his eyes off the two, or more precisely, off Se-hyun’s back.

Chapter Text

The moment he realized he hadn’t sprayed the pheromone perfume he always remembered, panic set in. It was like his body was caught in an invisible net, unable to move and see anything.

"...Perfume..."

He had never forgotten it before. What if someone found out that he didn't have pheromones? What would happen then?

On the day that he was exposed as a half-alpha, everything he had carefully built and concealed would crumble.

It felt as if his heart had plummeted into the abyss.

At that moment, along with his clothes getting wet, a calm voice pulled him back to reality.

"I’m sorry. I came over to greet you and accidentally knocked the glass over."

Only then did he notice the colour staining his clothes. How dare…

It was a bizarre situation.

‘Ahn Se-hyun?’

It was absurd enough for him to suddenly appear, but to spill wine as well? The voice, which didn't sound like a mistake at all, echoed as he stared at his wet clothes.

"You smell like wine."

"...."

The unease he felt at the mention of scent dissipated. Was that all? He completely forgot why he was so shocked.

"You can send me the dry-cleaning bill."

"What's wrong, Oppa? Are you okay?"

Even with Jin Hye-in's worried words as she held onto his arm, Ha Jin-seong couldn't take his eyes off Ahn Se-hyun.

—

"You were toying with fire."

The low murmur broke the silence in the car like a match striking in the dark.

Se-hyun, seated in the passenger seat, turned slightly to glance over his shoulder. Shin Tae-oh was lounging in the back seat, legs crossed, his gaze trained on the passing scenery outside the tinted window. But there was something sharp lingering in the tone—cool, almost warning.

Se-hyun’s mind raced. What was he referring to?

The incident with the wine?

‘No… it’s about concealing the pheromones.’

More accurately, the absence of them.

That moment back in the restaurant when he had spilled the wine on Ha Jin-seong’s clothes—it wasn’t just about disrupting a scene. It was a precise act of misdirection, shielding a dangerous secret he wasn’t supposed to know.

A secret from the original story.

‘It was going to be revealed anyway,’ he told himself. ‘If not by me, then eventually, when Ha Min-hyuk and Ha Jin-seong inevitably clashed and dragged each other’s weaknesses into the open.’

That wasn't supposed to happen yet.

“What did I toy with?” Se-hyun asked evenly, playing dumb as he looked forward again. His voice held a touch of mock innocence, but his fingers had curled slightly on his lap, tense.

If Tae-oh answered with Ha Jin-seong, he was prepared to deny everything.

“There was something,” Tae-oh replied after a beat, “but it wasn’t him.”

“…Excuse me?” Se-hyun turned back again, more slowly this time.

‘Not Ha Jin-seong?’

“I don’t want anything to come between us,” Tae-oh said simply, not raising his voice, not looking at him. It felt heavier because of that.

“I apologize.”

Se-hyun gave the words plainly, not asking for clarification. Since it was about Shin Tae-oh, he wrapped it up. He didn’t probe further—perhaps because he was afraid of what the answer might be.

‘How does he always know how to get under my skin?’

If it had been anyone else, Se-hyun might have turned it around on them. Twisted their words. But with Shin Tae-oh, it never worked.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Tae-oh muttered, though he clearly didn’t mean it. His disappointment was barely concealed, and the driver’s eyes flickered toward the rear view mirror, as if caught in the middle of something private.

Feeling the tension build, Se-hyun cleared his throat.

“I’ll pay next time,” he offered, trying to shift the mood.

“I told you, it’s fine. I know your salary isn’t much.”

Tae-oh’s arms crossed over his chest, and he turned toward the window again. Just the outline of his face in profile seemed colder than usual. The air inside the car felt like it had dropped several degrees.

Se-hyun didn’t understand this sudden shift. But…

"It's not my salary."

He kept his eyes ahead as he spoke, deliberately avoiding Tae-oh’s gaze. It would’ve been easy to turn, to speak more directly. But for some reason, he couldn’t.

“I received a meal voucher,” he continued.

Tae-oh’s voice softened. “You did?”

“If I’d known we were going there, I would’ve brought it. So next time... I’ll pay properly.”

“Hmm.”

A faint sound, almost a sigh.

“Well, it was kind of sudden,” Tae-oh murmured.

“Yes? Ah—yes, that’s right.”

Se-hyun resisted the urge to mention the chief secretary’s not-so-subtle suggestion that he should attend with a ‘partner.’ It would only throw fuel on whatever unspoken fire was smoldering between them.

“Now that you mention it,” Tae-oh said, tone shifting, “we should go again.”

“Yes.”

“And maybe coordinate our outfits next time?”

The image flashed in Se-hyun’s mind—himself and Shin Tae-oh walking into that luxurious restaurant, dressed to match. Unmistakable as a pair.

“…No,” he replied, a second too late.

“You hesitated. Did you imagine it?”

“I didn’t.”

“Can I imagine what secretary Ahn imagined?”

“No,” Se-hyun said firmly. “Please make your judgments based on reality.”

Tae-oh laughed quietly, a knowing sound that made the back of Se-hyun’s neck prickle.

It wasn’t mockery—it was something more dangerous.

—

“Did you hear about it?”

The door swung open without so much as a knock. Ha Jin-woong, Jin-seong’s twin brother, strode into the room, his voice loud, his presence even louder.

Ha Jin-seong didn’t stir from the bed.

“They said Father handed the project over to Ha Min-hyuk,” Jin-woong continued, brimming with disbelief. “He must have lost his mind. How else do you explain giving that bastard the reins—”

Jin-woong punctuated his outrage with a sharp punch into the empty air, as if striking an invisible opponent might settle his frustration.

“We should’ve stopped him the moment he transferred to headquarters. That was the plan.”

The complaints spilled out of him in a bitter stream. Only when the room offered no reply did he notice the silence stretching thin.

"…What’s wrong with you? Are you dead?"

Crossing the floor in a few strides, Jin-woong reached the side of the bed. He hovered there awkwardly, unwilling to touch his twin. Even though they shared the same face, something about Jin-seong always kept him at arm’s length.

Jin-seong lay motionless, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

Jin-woong waved a hand in front of his brother’s face.

“Move aside.”

"What? You're awake?" Ha Jin-woong obediently moved his hand aside, stepping back as Jin-seong blinked.

"Are we just going to leave Ha Min-hyuk like that?"

Every time Ha Min-hyuk struggled, they had intervened, so when it happened this time, it was natural for Ha Jin-seong to feel restless. Ha Jin-seong suddenly sprang to his feet at the suggestion.

“Oh—hell, you scared me.” Jin-woong flinched instinctively, his upper body leaning away. “What, did you just now decide to come back to life?”

“…Hyung,” Jin-woong said quietly, ignoring the jab. “Did you think the same thing?”

His voice was softer than usual. Not hesitant—just heavy.

Jin-seong didn’t answer. He seemed preoccupied, distracted in a way Jin-woong wasn’t used to seeing. The sharpness, the calculation—both were dulled.

“What’s going on with you?”

Jin-woong peered at him more closely, trying to read him like a mirror that no longer reflected the same image. Something was off.

"Did father really not know?"

“Didn’t know what? You think he didn’t notice the tension between us and Ha Min-hyuk?” Jin-woong scoffed. “No way. Giving him that project… It was deliberate. He wanted to make it public.”

Jin-woong’s voice twisted with contempt. “If he knew and still did it… that’s what’s truly terrifying.”

“That bastard’s been playing the victim all along,” he continued, pacing now. “Pretending to be fragile, like he’s the only one who's suffered. And Father—God, Father actually fell for it.”

The words came out like venom, every syllable laced with long-standing resentment. Jin-woong had confronted Ha Min-hyuk before. He couldn’t stand the sight of him, couldn’t accept someone like that sharing their bloodline.

But Jin-seong didn’t respond. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, shoulders rigid, eyes distant.

Jin-woong frowned. “Are you even listening to me?”

There was a flicker—just a glint of something returning to Jin-seong’s eyes.

Then: “I should bring him in after all.”

“What?” Jin-woong reeled. “Why bring him here? We should be figuring out how to ruin him, not invite him in!”

There was no room in their empire for Ha Min-hyuk. Jin-woong had always believed that. And Jin-seong had never disagreed—until now.

Before he could protest further, Jin-seong turned his head slowly, meeting his gaze.

“Gather everyone.”

“…What?”

“I said gather them. Now.”

Jin-woong blinked, unsure if he’d heard right. “You’re serious?”

Jin-seong’s glare hardened. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

“Right, right. I’ll do it now.” Jin-woong pulled out his phone, fingers already moving. If Jin-seong was calling them, it meant it was time. The people they had sponsored from the shadows—those they had cultivated, groomed, protected. Allies raised for a moment like this.

The time had come to show their hand.

“So, we’re really doing it,” Jin-woong muttered as he turned to leave, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re kicking Ha Min-hyuk out for good.”

He left the room with a spring in his step, his mind already turning with strategies.

Silence fell in his absence.

The room, large and luxurious, now felt cavernous. Jin-seong remained still, the distant hum of the city beyond the windows the only sound. But even that was drowned out by something else.

"It smells like wine."

A voice. Gentle, teasing. Ahn Se-hyun’s voice.

The ringing in his ears had worsened. It clawed at him, rising in pitch whenever he tried to focus elsewhere. No matter how many times he pushed it away, it always came back.

There was only one way to silence it.

Bring Se-hyun closer.

If in the past he had considered keeping him at arm's length, now he was determined to bring him in, no matter what.

Having made up his mind, Ha Jin-seong reached out to his side. He opened the lid of a box that was placed there along with his phone. It was filled with the same strawberry-flavoured candies and he picked one up.

—
"President Shin Tae-oh."

The voice echoed across the sleek marble lobby, drawing Se-hyun’s attention just as he stepped through the glass doors. He turned his head and found Ha Min-hyuk standing directly in front of Shin Tae-oh, effectively halting his stride.

Though the encounter looked civil on the surface, a quiet tension settled between the two men.

"Do you have a moment?"

Se-hyun immediately closed the distance. He stepped in front of Ha Min-hyuk, positioning himself with subtle authority. His voice was polite, measured, and unmistakably firm as he met the other man's gaze.

"I'm sorry, but without a scheduled appointment, that won’t be possible.”

Ha Min-hyuk might have held narrative weight in the original story, but that didn’t entitle him to bypass protocol. There were boundaries even protagonists couldn't cross.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t fit the typical image of a corporate mogul. At first glance, he could come off as laid-back or even disorganized. But Se-hyun knew better. He had seen the demanding workload firsthand—the constant site visits, meetings, and hands-on management. Shin Tae-oh wasn’t someone who enjoyed power for its own sake. He actually worked.

Se-hyun sometimes wondered what drove him.

With more than enough wealth to live in luxury, he could have spent his life in leisure. But he didn’t. That single-minded focus set him apart from other third-generation chaebol heirs who cultivated their influence through social connections and indulgent lifestyles.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t entertain clients over dinner or spend nights building relationships over drinks. He avoided unnecessary interactions, not because of arrogance, but because it wasn’t his world.

Se-hyun had sensed it back at the hotel—the discomfort that came not from pride, but from unfamiliarity.

That kind of earnestness had to be protected. Every part of Shin Tae-oh’s day was scheduled with precision, which meant there was no room for walk-in negotiations. Especially not from someone like Ha Min-hyuk.

"Can’t you even spare a single moment?"

There was a slight shift in Ha Min-hyuk’s tone, something more pointed than before. His gaze no longer rested on Shin Tae-oh, but on Se-hyun. On the surface, he looked composed, but there was a trace of unease in his expression.

It didn’t take long for Se-hyun to place it.

This was around the time Ha Min-hyuk’s role in the company began to deepen. The beginning of his move to take control of a project that would quickly become entangled in family conflict. That explained the urgency.

So, coming here like this meant…

"I'm here to propose a consortium to Shin Tae-oh."
[note: Consortium- an association, typically of several business companies.]

That confirmed it. This was the same proposal he’d made in the original story, using his knowledge of Shin Tae-oh’s interest in Yoo Jin-ha as leverage.

And just like before, the answer had been clear.

"No, it's not possible."

They had never formed an alliance in the source material.

Se-hyun saw no reason to change that outcome. He wasn’t about to involve Shin Tae-oh in a political and familial storm that would only worsen. That wasn’t his role—and more importantly, it wasn’t Shin Tae-oh’s problem.

He was here to protect his boss’s time, not entertain someone else’s ambitions.

This wasn’t going to happen.

And Se-hyun wasn’t going to let it.

Chapter Text

"My secretary said it’s not possible."

Shin Tae-oh’s voice was casual, but his hand rested on Se-hyun’s shoulder with surprising weight. The gesture wasn’t one of camaraderie—it was a subtle signal, reinforcing that Se-hyun’s word was final. If he said no, there was no room for negotiation.

Ha Min-hyuk stood still, his posture composed, though the edge of disappointment flickered in his gaze. The rejection wasn’t unexpected—after all, he had come without notice—but the air between them still bristled with quiet animosity.

“I apologize,” Ha Min-hyuk said, stepping back.

Shin Tae-oh turned slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder. He said nothing, but his eyes lingered on the man who had blocked his path. After a pause, he caught Se-hyun’s subtle signal—go ahead, I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow—and nodded in understanding. Without a word, Shin Tae-oh resumed walking.

Once Ha Min-hyuk made no move to pursue, Se-hyun released a silent breath and followed behind.

As he walked through the quiet corridor, the tension in his shoulders began to ease, though not entirely.

‘I managed to stop him for now,’ he thought, ‘but next time might not be so simple.’

Ha Min-hyuk could return. He probably would. And if he did, Se-hyun could deflect him again, just as he had today. There was no real advantage for Shin Tae-oh in accepting the offer anyway—not with the mess that would surely come with it. But knowing the plot didn’t mean there were no surprises. He had already learned the hard way that even with foreknowledge, the details could shift in unexpected ways.

‘I need to stay focused,’ he told himself. ‘I have to protect Taenyangi.’

If Shin Tae-oh got involved in this consortium, if he so much as touched the edge of it—

‘Ha Jin-seong will surely meddle with Shin Tae-oh.’

And if that happened, Se-hyun would clean up the aftermath himself. He’d run damage control, smooth out the chaos, and put out every fire. Even if it meant running until his feet burned.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. Se-hyun stepped inside and pressed the button. As the numbers began their slow climb, Shin Tae-oh’s voice broke the silence.

“That’s strange.”

Se-hyun blinked. Shin Tae-oh was still outside the elevator, watching him with a puzzled expression before stepping in.

“What is?”

“It doesn’t make sense for Ha Min-hyuk to approach me like that,” Shin Tae-oh said. His gaze shifted to the mirrored wall, where his reflection caught Se-hyun’s eyes. “He doesn’t seem to like me. There’s no reason he’d want to work with me.”

"Well..."

Se-hyun hesitated. The question was simple. The answer wasn’t.

Other companies had been cautious—interested, but unwilling to commit. Ha Jin-seong hadn’t made his move yet, but his shadow loomed large. The hesitation wasn’t just about logistics. It was about reputation, politics, and fear. Everyone knew what kind of person Ha Min-hyuk was.

That’s why Se-hyun had approached Shin Tae-oh. Because he wasn’t like them.

And yet, he couldn’t say that outright.

“Maybe… it’s because SR Construction is solid.”

He winced at his own vagueness. Shin Tae-oh’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced.

“Why do you say that?”

"Um..."

Se-hyun fumbled for a reasonable explanation, trying not to sound like he was deflecting. He could feel Shin Tae-oh’s scrutiny, the weight of a man who didn’t often trust easily.

“SR Group is big,” Shin Tae-oh said, “but not on the level of a top-tier construction firm. Not even close.”

“I just meant… the foundation is solid,” Se-hyun replied. “Not that it’s top-ranked, but that it’s run well. It’s a stable company, and that matters.”

It doesn't have to be the industry's top-ranked company. Even as a subsidiary, it may not generate as much profit, but from what I've seen, it's a fairly well-operated business.

Shin Tae-oh didn’t respond right away. Then his lips curved, pleased.

“A solid foundation. Yeah, that’s right. If we’re talking about stability, they won’t be able to keep up with me.”

The elevator reached their floor, and he stepped off with a self-satisfied air.

Se-hyun followed him out, glancing at his back.

‘Why does this feel so unconfortable?’

He wasn’t exactly sure why, though.

—

"Min-hyuk-ssi."

Yoo Jin-ha waved cheerfully from the lobby, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of foot traffic. As soon as Ha Min-hyuk saw him, a smile broke across his face. Seeing Jin-ha always had that effect.

"Did you come to meet me?" Jin-ha asked, eyes shining, clearly hoping for a particular answer.

Ha Min-hyuk nodded with an amused smile. “I did.”

"Really? You’ve never been the type to lie."

"Alright, you caught me. I came to meet CEO Shin Tae-oh."

"Ah." Jin-ha's smile faltered for half a second, disappointment flickering across his face, but he quickly recovered. “Well, I guess it’s fine if you just dropped by on the way.”

"But why Shin Tae-oh? Oh—can I ask that?"

The question slipped out before Jin-ha could stop himself. He looked sheepish, suddenly worried that it was too forward of an employee. But Ha Min-hyuk didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s okay. But can I ask you something in return?”

Jin-ha tilted his head. “Sure. What is it?”

“Why did you join this company?”

“That’s a vague question.”

Still, he took a second to think, trying to figure out what exactly Min-hyuk meant by it.

“Why this company in particular?” Min-hyuk clarified.

“Mm…”

Jin-ha glanced around the lobby. A few passing employees bowed politely in greeting. He returned it with a soft nod, then gestured subtly for them to move along.

“This place felt the most... ideal.”

He said it with quiet certainty.

“I tried part-time jobs here and there. Heard stories from seniors, and this company seemed the best fit. Nice people, no forced overtime. It’s been a good choice so far.”

His expression was open, sincere—there was no need to fake it. And Ha Min-hyuk couldn’t look away. That gentle voice, that unassuming smile, the way Jin-ha carried himself—it still felt surreal that they were partners.

"...Me too," he said suddenly.

"Huh?"

Jin-ha turned toward him, and Min-hyuk reflexively raised a hand to cover his slightly flushed face.

“I mean, I also chose this place,” he added hastily, redirecting his gaze—only to meet eyes with Ahn Se-hyun, who had somehow come within earshot.

He was closer than expected. Min-hyuk wasn’t sure if he just hadn’t noticed him or if Se-hyun had intentionally kept quiet. Either way, the secretary’s look made one thing clear:

I know exactly why you changed the subject.

Min-hyuk gave a small, awkward smile.

“I came to coordinate a meeting appointment.”

Se-hyun nodded, keeping his expression unreadable. He’d already informed the head secretary and received instructions to bring Min-hyuk up—but now he wished he’d taken his time.

“This way, please. I’ll guide you to the conference room.”

Ha Min-hyuk gave a reluctant look to Jin-ha. “Take care.”

Jin-ha lightly nudged him forward. “Don’t worry. I’ll still be working when you get back, so take your time.”

Min-hyuk smiled as if reassured, but still insisted, “I’ll be quick.”

From the side, Se-hyun watched them with a tight expression.

’Just get moving already’

To them, this might have been a sweet parting. But to a third party? It was just dragging things out. He got it—they wanted to keep looking at each other. Still, he hadn’t come here to chaperone a date.

‘Maybe I should’ve just left him without saying anything’

Checking his phone for updates, Se-hyun only looked up when Min-hyuk finally approached.

“I apologize,” Min-hyuk offered.

“It’s fine.”

Se-hyun kept his tone neutral. He hadn’t enjoyed witnessing that affectionate back-and-forth, but pointing it out would be out of line—especially since he was new.

“Is it really fine?”

“Yes. Though I’d prefer to keep personal conversations to a minimum.”

He drew the line quickly. Min-hyuk let out a soft, slightly deflated laugh but didn’t press further. He stepped into the elevator behind Se-hyun.

They stood in the same elevator where Se-hyun and Shin Tae-oh had ridden side by side earlier. Se-hyun caught a glimpse of Min-hyuk’s reflection in the mirror.

Shin Tae-oh was taller.

Though Min-hyuk had fine proportions—his small face gave him good balance—in terms of overall impression…

"What are you measuring?"

"I'm not measuring anything."

“You understood what I meant, though.”

Se-hyun fell silent. He should’ve denied it altogether, but now that he’d reacted, it was too late. Min-hyuk smiled knowingly.

His smiles were rare—born more from habit than joy—but when he was with Jin-ha, they appeared more often. And just now, he’d smiled.

“CEO Shin Tae-oh really is tall. It’s kind of unfair, isn’t it?”

’Was he thinking out loud this entire time?’

“That’s the second time you’ve looked at me like that. I get it now.”

…He might’ve looked at the both of them too openly.

He clamped his mouth shut, resisting further commentary. Min-hyuk, of course, took the silence as an invitation to keep going.

“Let’s just go,” Se-hyun said, using the elevator doors as his escape.

Min-hyuk stepped out obediently, but as Se-hyun followed, he pointed ahead—then turned suddenly.

“Is it okay to date openly at this company?”

“Let’s just keep walking.”

“…Right.”

"..."

IA familiar rhythm fell between them—an odd sense of rapport formed from clashing conversations. It reminded Se-hyun of an earlier moment, when they'd somehow understood each other while talking past each other entirely.

"You’re not here to date, right?"

That was Se-hyun’s own internal complaint while watching Jin-ha and Min-hyuk. Why was it being thrown back at him now?

"I don't go to work to date. I don't even have a partner."

He tried to end the topic there—but the conference room doors opened before he could follow through.

Shin Tae-oh stepped out.

“Ha Min-hyuk has no business interfering in my secretary’s love life.”

Why is he here?

He should be in his office…

Chapter Text

Ha Min-hyuk glanced between Shin Tae-oh and Ahn Se-hyun, a subtle crease forming between his brows.

“If I’d known it would turn out like this…”

The words trailed off before they could find their footing. He wasn’t sure what he meant, only that something felt off. Still, after a beat of hesitation, he spoke again—quietly.

“I should’ve said I came to see Secretary Ahn instead of CEO Shin Tae-oh.”

There was no use denying it—when he’d dropped by unannounced asking for Shin Tae-oh, he’d been turned away. But the moment Se-hyun appeared, so did Shin Tae-oh.

It was almost as if his thoughts were being spoken aloud: So, you’re here now.

“I didn’t come to see Ha Min-hyuk-ssi,” Shin Tae-oh said coolly, walking past him without even making eye contact.

He approached Se-hyun instead.

"The tablet."

“Here.”

Se-hyun handed it over without pause. Shin Tae-oh scanned the schedule briefly, lips pressed in a tight line.

"It’s difficult if you do this."

“This is inconvenient,” he muttered, still not sparing Min-hyuk a glance. “We’ve got less than thirty minutes until the next meeting. And instead of using that time wisely, you’re wandering the building?”

Se-hyun met his gaze calmly.

Yes, following the CEO’s schedule was important. But the role of a secretary wasn’t that simple. Before any meeting, he had to check the room, prep the materials, and anticipate the questions that would be asked—all so the CEO could walk in and speak without pause or error. That work didn’t happen from behind a desk.

In fact, he might’ve left a duster on his desk weeks ago. Who knew.

“Did the head secretary ask you to do this?”

“…Yes.”

"Tsk."

Shin Tae-oh clicked his tongue in clear irritation. But neither Se-hyun nor Lee Jin-ho had done anything outside the norm. They were just doing their jobs.

’Tae-oh, you really don’t get it. You’re blocking my path while complaining I’m wasting yours.’

“This—”

Shin Tae-oh picked up a coffee cup he’d set down earlier and held it out.

“What’s this?” Se-hyun asked, surprised.

“Coffee. For all the secretaries.”

“Oh…”

Se-hyun blinked, a little caught off guard. He’d thought it was for him alone. Still, he nodded and accepted the cup.

“The chief said not to leave it on your desk. Figured it’d go cold before you ever sat down, considering how you never stop moving.”

So… that’s why he brought it personally like this?

“I happened to have a bit of free time,” Shin Tae-oh added, almost as an afterthought, mumbling like someone embarrassed by their own excuse.

And just like that, as if his business was done, he turned to leave—still ignoring Ha Min-hyuk entirely.

“I’m sorry,” Min-hyuk said, stepping forward and catching Shin Tae-oh by the wrist. “But please, spare me just a little of that free time.”

Shin Tae-oh halted, turning to face him.

“I won’t keep you long.”

“Or,” Min-hyuk added, “would it be better if I spoke to Secretary Ahn alone?”

Shin Tae-oh scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “That kind of shallow tactic doesn’t work on me.”

It was obvious he thought Min-hyuk was playing games—trying to provoke him with jealousy or concern.

But he didn’t leave. He studied Min-hyuk for a moment longer, then gave a crooked smile.

“Still… Ha Min-hyuk seems so desperate to see me. Now I’m curious.”

He gestured toward his office with an open palm, inviting him in.

Min-hyuk didn’t hesitate. He walked in without a word, and Shin Tae-oh followed behind, leaving Se-hyun standing alone in the hallway.

Shallow tactics…

‘And yet… weren’t they working?’

—

After listening closely to Ha Min-hyuk’s explanation, Shin Tae-oh leaned back slightly, arms crossed, his gaze turning sharp.

“So, you’re suggesting we form a consortium together?”

“Yes,” Ha Min-hyuk replied, steady and composed. “I’d like us to enter the bid as partners.”

The project Ha Min-hyuk had been assigned involved forming a consortium to bid on a major apartment complex construction. His proposal was to bring SR Construction on board—a move that aligned perfectly with the original plan.

Shin Tae-oh tapped his fingers against his arm, the sound quiet but deliberate.

Behind him, Ahn Se-hyun stood silently. He’d heard every word, but his expression remained unreadable.

When multiple construction companies joined forces to build a complex, the resulting consortium often adopted a shared or newly coined brand name. If the outcome was a well-built, standout project, it could quickly rise as a landmark.

Consortiums had become more common recently. Their advantages were obvious: shared responsibility, distributed workload, and the ability to cover for one another if complications arose. Beyond logistics, the friendly competition between companies often pushed each party to deliver higher-quality results.

‘It all sounds ideal… but there’s one problem.’

’Ha Jin-seong.’

He would never let Ha Min-hyuk proceed without interference—and the brunt of that fallout would inevitably land on Shin Tae-oh’s shoulders.

No matter how attractive the proposal sounded, from SR Construction’s perspective, there were safer, cleaner options than partnering with Ha Min-hyuk. Shin Tae-oh would reject it eventually. That was clear.

But delivering the rejection fell to Shin Tae-oh, not Se-hyun. So, silently, Se-hyun raised his tablet and double-checked the synced schedule from the chief secretary’s office, ensuring there were no disruptions ahead.

“Has this been approved internally?” Shin Tae-oh asked.

“Yes,” Ha Min-hyuk replied without hesitation. “If you agree to the partnership, we’re ready to move forward immediately.”

There was an unexpected conviction in his tone. It wasn’t the kind of bluff someone made on a whim. If this hadn’t been part of his plan from the beginning, it would’ve been difficult to explain his certainty now.

“I’ll consider it,” Shin Tae-oh said at last.

Not a rejection—but not an agreement, either. A deferment.

Se-hyun, accustomed to this kind of noncommittal response, quietly noted it and began mentally summarizing the discussion. Next time, the answer would likely be a polite decline. He checked the still-empty time block on the schedule—no immediate meetings—and looked up again, only to find that Ha Min-hyuk was already at the door.

He hadn’t even noticed him move.

As Se-hyun turned his head, their eyes met. Ha Min-hyuk offered a faint, wordless see you later look before stepping out. Just like that, the impulse to follow him evaporated.

“It’d be nice if he just disappeared obediently more often…”

Shin Tae-oh muttered as he stared at the door through which Min-hyuk had vanished.

Se-hyun frowned slightly. ’What did that mean?’

"Should I catch all the employees who are dating within the company?"

Ha Min-hyuk is an outsider. So, strictly speaking, it’s not even an office relationship… No, just don’t get any weird thoughts.

“Secretary Ahn, who doesn’t even have a lover, should just leave early.”

’Why bring up my love life’

“…Understood,” Se-hyun replied blandly, choosing not to engage.

In the end, when the protagonist was in motion, the supporting cast knew better than to interrupt.

—

At the hospital, Se-hyun stood at the foot of the bed, glancing between his mother and father, both avoiding his eyes with awkward expressions.

"You said it was just a stretched ligament."

His voice was calm, but his gaze lingered on his father’s tightly clenched jaw. That kind of swelling couldn’t be explained away so lightly.
"A small bump, really?"

The nurse had mentioned a major surgery—sixteen hours under anesthesia. To dismiss something like that as a bump?

"I didn’t want you to worry," his mother murmured.

"I told you not to say anything at all," his father muttered beside her.

"And what was I supposed to do?" she shot back, exasperated. "We can’t let the hospital bills pile up."

His parents bickered in hushed tones, blame exchanged like small change. His father frowned, his mother’s eyes sharp with frustration.

Se-hyun sighed. A quiet, involuntary sound.

Both of them flinched.

"I’ve said it before—" he spoke softly now, "—it hurts when you leave me out like this."

He stepped forward and gathered them into a gentle hug. Since becoming Ahn Se-hyun, this was the first family he'd ever known. At first, it had been awkward—foreign, almost unreal. But their love had been patient, constant. It wrapped around him until he could no longer imagine being without it.

Now, they weren’t just people to care about. They were people to protect. That’s why he had chosen this path, why he’d become Shin Tae-oh’s secretary. With the knowledge from the original story as his compass, he had mapped his actions carefully.

"Weren’t you scared?"

The question was quiet, sincere.

His mother was the first to cry.

"Don’t say things like that. I… I thought I’d never see him again."

"Ahem." His father coughed into his fist and looked away, but under his wife’s tearful gaze, his posture softened. "You told me not to be dramatic, said it wasn’t anything serious."

Though they didn’t have much, the affection between them had never wavered. They loved each other stubbornly, warmly.

"But is it really okay for you to be here?" his mother asked, wiping at her eyes. "You don’t even have time off."

"It’s fine. I took a few days."

Se-hyun hadn’t realized how serious the surgery had been, but once he learned they were hospitalized, there hadn’t been a second thought. The time off he'd saved for adjusting to his heat cycle schedule didn’t matter—not when it came to them.

"You should’ve just rested at home."

"That’s right," his father added. "You look pale."

"I should’ve come down a day earlier," Se-hyun muttered, frustrated. "Then I could’ve rested with you here."

They looked at him with a mix of guilt and quiet joy. It had been too long since they’d seen each other.

"Are you okay? When will you be discharged? Hold on—"

His questions were cut off by the vibration in his pocket. Se-hyun pulled out his phone and glanced at the caller ID.

Shin Tae-oh.

He flashed his parents a reassuring look. "Just one quick call," he said, stepping aside and lowering his voice.

"Hello?"

– Where are you? I’m in front of your place. Can I see you for a moment? I have something to give you.

"I’m not in Seoul right now."

Turning away slightly, he cupped a hand over the receiver. His parents were clearly curious, their eyes tracking his every move.

– Not in Seoul?

"Yes."

It wasn’t unusual to work weekends—Se-hyun knew that—but this weekend had been different. There had been no scheduled tasks, and he’d already informed the chief secretary of his absence.

Shin Tae-oh wouldn’t have reached out without a reason. Still, before Se-hyun could explain further, the next question came sharply.

– Where are you?

"...Huh?"

He blinked, glancing around. A nurse passed by with a clipboard. Down the hallway, patients in hospital gowns walked with IV poles in tow.

"...I’m at the hospital."

A beat of silence.

Then—

– Fuck...

The call abruptly ended.

Se-hyun stared at his phone.

What the hell was that just now?

Chapter Text

The phone rang again.

This time, Shin Tae-oh asked plainly which hospital it was. There was something strange about the conversation—subtly off. Se-hyun couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, only that something didn't sit right.

Still, he gave the hospital’s name and room number. After hanging up, he found himself lost in thought.

’What am I missing?’

‘If it’s about Taeyangi... I thought I understood him better than anyone. So why does it feel like I don’t know him at all?’

"Who was that?" his mother asked, slicing apples with delicate precision.

"Um... my boss."

"Your boss? You mean the head secretary? Or..." She paused, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. "The CEO?"

Se-hyun walked over and sat beside her, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “The CEO.”

"But didn’t you say you were taking the day off? And that he told you to head up because you were too busy?"

"It’s not about that," Se-hyun said quietly, shaking his head.

He picked up a fork, skewered a slice of apple, and offered it to his father. Then he turned to hand one to his mother, but she was too focused on questioning him.

"If it’s not about work, then why did he call and ask where you were?"

Oh..." His hand froze mid-air.

"What is it, Se-hyun? Something wrong?"

"...No, it’s nothing."

But it wasn’t nothing.

While chatting with his mother, the pieces began to click into place.

‘In what world does a CEO visit his secretary on their day off?’

And yet, pressured by the unexpected call, Se-hyun had given up the address almost automatically. That was Shin Tae-oh for you—someone who knew exactly when and how to press. Someone who moved before others even realized what was happening.

He sighed and pulled out his phone again, sending a message to the chief secretary:
Had a brief conversation with CEO Shin Tae-oh just now

A short buzz signaled the reply.

— Shin Tae-oh has an urgent appointment today, so I’ll cover.

‘ I’m sorry.’

Reading that, a small smile tugged at Se-hyun’s lips. The chief secretary was covering for him without complaint—without question. He’d have to express his gratitude properly when he returned on Monday.

"Oh, goodness. Snap out of it," his mother said, standing abruptly. "The CEO is coming, isn’t he? We should at least offer him something to drink."

"What? No, he’s not."

Startled, Se-hyun reached out and gently urged her back into her seat. "Really. He’s not coming."

"He’s not?" she asked, skeptical.

"I told him from the beginning—I’m not in Seoul."

He paused.

Wait.

Hadn't Tae-oh said he was in front of Se-hyun’s house?

And then, not long after, claimed to have a sudden appointment?

‘When did that happen?’

‘I guess I should re-check the schedule when I get to work.’

"Please, just sit down," he said with a soft smile. "Tell me more about how you’ve been."

For now, he pushed thoughts of Shin Tae-oh aside. His parents were here—alive, recovering, and in front of him. That was what mattered most.

—

The warm family chatter gradually gave way to Se-hyun’s relentless nagging.

“From now on, please take better care of your health.”

“Alright,” his father replied sheepishly, absently running a hand over his cast.

Then came the turn of his mother. Se-hyun fixed her with a pointed look.

“You know drinking coffee on an empty stomach isn’t good, right?”

“I only drink it occasionally. Not every day, just sometimes…”

“But you have chronic gastritis. And reflux esophagitis.”

“I won’t drink it anymore,” she mumbled in surrender.

“And don’t skip meals. Should I start calling you at every mealtime?”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” she said quickly, shaking her hands in protest.

Though she seemed to insist she was fine, her expression betrayed a quiet injustice—as if she were getting scolded more than the person in the actual hospital bed. Still, knowing it all came from her son’s concern, both parents soon broke into smiles.

But since everything was out their son’s affection, the parents quickly smiled and expressed their joy.

“It’s good to see you again after so long,” his mother said. “Shall we go out for a bit later?”

Se-hyun nodded, a soft sense of relief easing the corners of his mouth. “I’m heading back to Seoul tonight.”

He’d delayed his return slightly, reluctant to leave. Taking the late-night bus would mean little sleep, but he could manage tomorrow’s schedule. It was worth it—he hadn’t seen his parents in so long.

Then, as he reached for a strawberry, his mother hesitated before speaking.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What kind of person is your CEO?”

Se-hyun’s hand paused mid-air.

‘Why bring up Shin Tae-oh now...?’

“Well, I don’t know him all that well, but... I’ve heard he’s an impressive person.”

That wasn’t a lie. Shin Tae-oh did have everything.

“Just curious, since you work so closely with him,” she said lightly.

He nodded, trying to find the right words.

“Well... for starters, he’s tall.”

Anyone meeting Shin Tae-oh for the first time would be struck by his height. Even without emitting pheromones and proclaiming himself as an alpha, people instinctively sensed his dominance without him needing to say a word.

“He’s also incredibly capable.”

He didn’t just manage the company from afar. He scouted talent himself. If he passed an appealing design while walking through a neighborhood, he’d try to incorporate it into a future build. That hands-on approach earned SR Construction apartments high praise.

“He’s handsome too,” Se-hyun added, as if belatedly remembering a key point. “Should’ve mentioned that with the height.”

You couldn’t talk about Shin Tae-oh and not mention his face.

His mother nodded thoughtfully. “Then... if he has everything, doesn’t that mean his personality must be terrible?”

She said it as if quoting a common drama trope. “In dramas, the perfect guys always have a fatal flaw. Otherwise, where’s the tension?”

“Oh my. If he’s really that perfect, I guess he’d be the main character.”

Se-hyun didn’t respond to that one.

‘He’s so perfect that... he ended up being just the second lead.’

“He actually has a good personality,” Se-hyun said after a pause. “He jokes around a lot, laughs easily…”

Apart from occasionally being as sly as a cat, his personality was honestly not bad at all.

“But he’s kind. Considerate, too. Really, he has everything.”

A pitiful Taeyang-i, cursed with perfection.

Se-hyun smiled at his mother, wanting to reassure her. “The CEO takes good care of me. I’m doing well. Aside from a few... odd errands now and then.”

Like being sent on elaborate missions just to deliver the perfect gift to the main character.

...Which he usually found amusing—but sometimes felt a little sorry about.

“But speaking of your CEO…” his mother began again.

“Hmm?”

He was munching on a strawberry when she turned to him.

“He’s taller than you, right?”

“Yeah, he is,” he said, wondering where this was going.

Did she ask because he was vague earlier?

“You said he’s handsome. Does he also have a small face?”

[note: might be a little weird but with asian beauty standards having a “small” face is considered attractive it just means not having fat in the face]

He blinked. Had he said something about that?

"Yes, it's small. If you search his name on the internet, you'll find pictures. You can see for yourself..."

“Mm. I think I have seen him before.”

“Really? When?”

Curious, Se-hyun asked, but then noticed something odd—his parents were both looking past him. He followed their gaze.

“…Why are you looking behind me?”

He turned his head.

And froze.

‘Someone tell me this is a joke.’

There stood Shin Tae-oh.

The Chief Secretary beside him confirmed it wasn’t a hallucination. Se-hyun felt the hairs on his neck rise.

‘Please tell me he didn’t hear everything…’

More than the shock of Tae-oh actually being here, Se-hyun’s mind raced with one question:

‘Just how much did he hear?’

"What brings you here, sir?"

“What brings you here, sir?” Se-hyun stood quickly, forcing his face into a polite mask. Pretending nothing was amiss. But what use was pretending, when Shin Tae-oh had probably heard everything?

“Hello,” Shin Tae-oh said—not to him, but to his parents.

“It seems you’ve already recognized me, but…” His eyes flicked briefly to Se-hyun, and in a low voice, he added, “I’ll deal with that misunderstanding later.”

‘…What misunderstanding?’

Se-hyun blinked, suddenly feeling like he was in trouble for something he didn’t even understand.

Meanwhile, Shin Tae-oh turned back to his parents.

“I’m the CEO your son mentioned. Sounds like I’ve already had a rather thorough introduction,” he said with a faint smile. “But shall I introduce myself properly?”

To that, Se-hyun’s parents—flustered but polite—hurriedly declined.

—

“What happened? You said there was an urgent schedule.”

Se-hyun handed a cup of coffee to Lee Jin-ho, who accepted it with a sigh.

“He called me out of nowhere and told me the name of a hospital. If I’d known he was coming to see you, I would’ve told you sooner.”

Having rushed over without a clue, Lee Jin-ho had only pieced things together after arriving.

“I’m sorry,” Se-hyun said, bowing slightly.

Even though it was Taeyang-i’s fault, Se-hyun still felt responsible. Meanwhile, Lee Jin-ho took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze not leaving Shin Tae-oh for a second.

“I just wanted to observe quietly,” he muttered.

“…Observe what?”

A silence settled between them until the chief secretary broke it with a completely different line of questioning.

“You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

“No,” Se-hyun answered instantly.

Lee Jin-ho's eyes showed even more surprise at Se-hyun’s immediate answer.

Lee Jin-ho blinked in surprise. “…Why are you so quick to answer?”

“I figured you were going to ask that.”

He would have to be an idiot not to guess what Lee Jin-ho was implying, especially when he’d been dragged out of the office and told someone was hospitalized.

Lee Jin-ho stared at his coffee, then glanced around cautiously.

“He’s not listening, right?”

Se-hyun scanned their surroundings. No familiar faces nearby.

Letting out a soft breath of relief, he turned back to Lee Jin-ho—only to find the man watching him with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“I’m just saying... he must really care, considering you two aren’t dating.”

That made Se-hyun flinch.

“Please don’t involve the CEO in this, Chief Secretary.”

The situation was already complicated enough. He didn’t need Lee Jin-ho adding fuel to the fire.

“Just be honest with me.”

“I am being honest.”

“You don’t hate the fact that the CEO worries about you, do you?”

“…Worries?”

Se-hyun felt like he knew everything until now, but he was caught off guard by Lee Jin-ho's recent question.

The word caught Se-hyun off guard. He thought he understood what was going on—until that moment.

“Didn’t you realize? He came here because he thought you were the one hospitalized.”

Ah.

Piece by piece, the puzzle finally started to come together in Se-hyun’s head.

Chapter Text

To sum it up—

When Se-hyun mentioned a hospital over the phone, Shin Tae-oh must have assumed it was he who was sick.

Without asking for clarification, he called Lee Jin-ho, the Chief Secretary, and asked him to drive to the hospital. If it had really been urgent, he could’ve driven himself. Still, Lee Jin-ho probably wondered why there was such a rush—and what exactly was going on.

Once they arrived, they discovered Se-hyun was simply visiting. But whatever interaction Lee Jin-ho witnessed between Shin Tae-oh and Se-hyun must have planted a seed of suspicion. Now, he was sure he’d uncovered something between them.

“Anyway, I still don’t understand how it turned into all this.”

Se-hyun took a sip of coffee and glanced sideways. Using the excuse of buying drinks, he’d stepped out of the hospital room with Lee Jin-ho, and now they sat on a nearby bench. The third cup—meant for Shin Tae-oh—remained untouched, waiting for its rightful owner.

He should bring it before it gets cold. At least then, Shin Tae-oh would have something warm to drink.

"Sigh."

“Why the sudden sigh?”

“I suddenly felt the perseverance of a secretary settle deep in my bones.”

...It’s fine if it cools down a bit.

It wasn’t even work hours. Why was he stressing over Shin Tae-oh’s coffee when the man had come here of his own accord?

But the more he looked at the cup, the more antsy he felt.

Then, they both spoke at the same time.

“Should I just give him the coffee?”

“Is it okay to leave things like this?”

Se-hyun stood up, coffee in hand. Only then did Lee Jin-ho seem to remember the cup.

“Oh, right. We should give it to him. I was actually talking about whether it’s okay to leave your parents alone with the CEO.”

It was a casual remark, but Se-hyun froze.

“…The president’s not the type to stay quiet.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

Se-hyun practically bolted back to the hospital room. Lee Jin-ho watched him go, then sighed into his coffee.

“...Now it’s somehow my fault?”

His muttering was drowned out by the sound of the hospital room door opening.

“Sir!”

Se-hyun rushed in and called out—but was quickly reprimanded.

“Se-hyun, this isn’t a private room. Don’t raise your voice like that.”

Shin Tae-oh turned his head calmly, his tone quiet but pointed.

‘He didn’t call me Secretary Ahn... he said Se-hyun.’

From that moment, Se-hyun knew something was off.

That little Taenyang-i… What on earth was he planning now?

“It seems we’ll need to move rooms, for Se-hyun’s sake. We don’t want to inconvenience others.”

"Is… that so?"

“There happens to be a private room available. Shall we move there?”

Shin Tae-oh gently took his mother’s hand and helped her up. Just then, a hospital staff member entered through the door Se-hyun had left open.

“But a private room might be a bit…”

Reluctantly, his mother stood, but didn’t move right away.

“Don’t worry. The company covers the cost as part of employee welfare.”

“But Se-hyun’s not even the one who’s sick…”

“That’s why our company is so competitive. The benefits are great. Though, don’t expect too much—it’s not full coverage. There’s a deduction of 300,000 won per day.”

Such an oddly specific number. His mother looked half-convinced already.

Meanwhile, Se-hyun stood speechless. Everything had already been arranged.

As hospital staff moved his father’s bed, Lee Jin-ho returned to help his mother gather her things.

In the middle of it all, Shin Tae-oh approached Se-hyun, glanced at the two cups in his hands, and picked up one—presumably his own—then took a sip.

“They cover expenses for employees’ families too?”

Se-hyun couldn't ask that in front of his mom, but Shin Tae-oh answered anyway with a simple nod.

“Se-hyun, you’re lucky.”

Was it really luck? He wasn’t sure.

“…Thank you.”

He bowed his head sincerely. A private room was far beyond what he could handle right now. Gratitude was the least he could offer.

Again—Ahn Se-hyun. Not Secretary Ahn.

Again—Ahn Se-hyun. Not Secretary Ahn.

Not once today had he used the title.

And then, without another word, Shin Tae-oh walked out of the room, coffee in hand.

Se-hyun wanted to ask what they’d talked about—his parents and Tae-oh—but the moment had passed.

He had thought he could see through Shin Tae-oh, thought he understood him… But once again, he’d missed something.

‘In the end, how can you ever really know what someone’s thinking?’’

With a quiet sigh, Se-hyun turned—exhausted—and looked down at the cup still in his hand.

One was taken by Shin Tae-oh.

So this one must be…

‘He took the wrong one.’

Of all things, Shin Tae-oh had taken the one he had been drinking from.

—

Se-hyun, the last to enter the hospital room, froze in place as he took in the unusually spacious interior. He hadn’t seen every room in the hospital, but this clearly wasn’t your average single room.

He couldn’t have been the only one thinking that.

His mother glanced around, her head tilting in confusion. Her expression was hesitant, as if unsure whether it was okay to ask.

“…Is this really a single room?”

“Oh, if you’re worried someone else might come in—”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… so spacious.”

“Ah…”

Only then did Shin Tae-oh seem to register her meaning. He looked around slowly and gave a small nod.

“Indeed. It is quite spacious.”

…And that was it?

He spoke so casually, all while holding Se-hyun’s mother’s hand, completely ignoring the stunned look in Se-hyun’s eyes.

“Se-hyun can rest comfortably here too. Ma’am, you can sit over there.”

Effortlessly, he swept her hesitation aside by slipping Se-hyun’s name into the conversation just enough to ease her.

<>‘He's really good with words.’

“Just call it a VIP room,” Lee Jin-ho muttered under his breath.

Only then did it hit Se-hyun: this wasn’t just a single room.

‘A VIP room… That must cost a fortune.’

He looked around the sleek, quiet room. He couldn’t even begin to estimate the daily rate. And he had no idea how to repay Shin Tae-oh for something like this.

“Don’t worry, Se-hyun-ssi.”

Lee Jin-ho stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly.

“My parents were treated the same way when they were hospitalized.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah. They had a minor car accident, and while they were here, they got every test imaginable.”

Lee Jin-ho cast a sidelong glance at Shin Tae-oh—less thankful and more annoyed.

“If they hadn’t been so thorough, my parents would’ve been discharged even faster.”

So that was the source of his grudge. Still, the reassurance lightened the weight on Se-hyun’s shoulders, if only slightly.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

“Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

His mother, wanting to return even a little of the kindness, smiled warmly at Shin Tae-oh.

“We have coffee. Would you like some?”

“I’ll gratefully accept if you offer it.”

“How about some fruit? I can cut some for you.”

“I’d love that.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“I like all fruits.”

Shin Tae-oh accepted everything she offered without hesitation, his tone easy and cheerful. The conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d known each other for years. But knowing his usual charisma, maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.

“But… when are you going back?” Se-hyun asked Lee Jin-ho, casting a subtle glance at Tae-oh.

“Well…”

Lee Jin-ho shrugged, clearly just as clueless. Then he walked over to sit beside Shin Tae-oh like they were about to share a plate of fruit.

“Se-hyun, come sit with us.”

Tae-oh waved him over.

“Yeah, come on.”

“I’m fine here.”

Se-hyun tilted his head and gave a polite decline. He’d already eaten some apples and strawberries. Instead, he walked over to his father’s bedside.

His father’s face lit up with joy as soon as he saw him.

Reaching out a hand, he said, “Show it to me.”

Se-hyun knew exactly what he meant. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it up.

“Nothing’s changed.”

“I want to see for myself. Maybe I made it to number one.”

“Come on, what are you saying?”

Even as he protested, Se-hyun opened the contacts.

It really wasn’t anything special.

But ever since he became Ahn Se-hyun, he had reevaluated the people around him—sorted his priorities.

And his parents were always at the top. Even during the times he’d been lost and unsure of who he was becoming, they’d never left his side. When he fell asleep, they sat by his bed, quietly stroking his hair.

Their lives had never been easy, yet they’d never once complained to him.

He had promised himself to take care of them as best he could.

The rest of his contacts—colleagues, acquaintances, new friends—were listed in the order he’d met them after that.

“I’m still number two.”

“I told you, I didn’t change it…”

His words faded as he suddenly sensed someone behind him.

‘Why did I forget about this strong presence?’

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“Sir, you can leave now…”

“Just a moment, Secretary Ahn.”

‘Right. In moments like this, he calls me Secretary Ahn.’

Se-hyun bit his lip. The numbers—he’d already guessed Tae-oh understood them to some extent…

“He assigns numbers based on how much he likes someone.”

‘Father…’

No matter how luxurious the hospital room was, how could his father reveal his son’s secret like that?

“I thought that might be it.”

Shin Tae-oh eyed Se-hyun’s phone and licked his lips.

His gaze was sharp, dangerous—like he’d just cornered his prey.

If he had known it would come to this, Se-hyun wouldn’t have ranked anyone at all. With a sigh, he finally spoke:

“…Sir, you’re number three.”

So please just leave my phone alone.

Chapter Text

Se-hyun looked out the window. All he could see was the city sprawled around the hospital, but the sky above it was strikingly clear.

Why had he done that?

Why had he assigned numbers before names?

He’d only meant to organize things—to adjust better to this unfamiliar world. He hadn’t expected to regret it this much. If he’d known it would come to this, he wouldn’t have done it at all.

Still holding the cup of coffee he was supposed to bring to Shin Tae-oh, Se-hyun stood by the window, momentarily entranced by the view.

“I thought you were sick.”

Startled, he turned toward the voice.

“I thought Secretary Ahn was sick,” Shin Tae-oh said, referring to the misunderstanding that had brought him here.

“You saw me just yesterday.”

“You could’ve faked it until yesterday.”

Tae-oh’s grim tone was laced with suspicion, and Se-hyun—without thinking—nodded in agreement. Honestly, he had been faking it, at least a little.

"When someone who usually takes regular breaks suddenly takes time off, it’s suspicious."

“Ah… I guess that makes sense.”

Se-hyun nodded again, then tilted his head slightly, still puzzled.

“But… would that alone make the CEO come all the way here?”

“I thought maybe your heat cycle came suddenly or something.”

Se-hyun stiffened, his breath catching in surprise.

Running a hand through his hair, Tae-oh continued, “I thought maybe you tried to cool off with a cold shower, passed out, and woke up in the hospital.”

Unable to respond to the string of unlikely (and mortifyingly plausible) scenarios, Se-hyun stayed silent.

Back then, his memories were hazy. He hadn’t been fully conscious—hadn't been himself. If something like that happened again…

‘I’m not sure I want to remember everything. I wonder… how far did Shin Tae-oh go?’

He shook his head, refusing to let the thought take hold.

“My father had surgery. I’m here because of him. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Oh—wait. I mean, not really.”

Realizing his mistake, Tae-oh backtracked. Someone was lying in a hospital bed, after all. He paid attention to even small details. No wonder Lee Jin-ho found it hard to fully dislike him.

“I heard your father needs to stay for about a week. It’s a good chance for him to rest comfortably.”

‘A week…’

Se-hyun recalled the VIP room price he’d overheard. Just one week would easily exceed his monthly salary.

“Does it feel like a burden?”

“Yeah.”

“Then work hard to pay me back. I don’t mean with money. I mean with your body.”

Se-hyun blinked.

There it was again—words that, on any other day, might be brushed off as a joke. But today, for some reason, they lingered.

Still, he was grateful. Tae-oh had made sure his father was in the best room, without hesitation.

“…Someday, I’ll definitely repay you.”

“I don’t really trust verbal promises. Should we put it in writing?”

“A contract?”

“The more thankful you are, the more determined you should be, right?”

Se-hyun was caught off guard by how meticulous he was. Somehow, even more than he’d imagined.

“…I’ll write it.”

He hadn’t intended to let it end with just words anyway.

“Good choice. I’ll have the Chief Secretary draft it, so be prepared.”

Involving the Chief Secretary suddenly made it feel far more official than expected—but Se-hyun couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“Yes, sir.”

Apparently satisfied, Tae-oh turned to leave. Se-hyun followed to see him off—but then Tae-oh glanced back at him with a puzzled look.

“Are you leaving already? Your mother looked really happy to see you earlier.”

“…Aren’t you the one leaving, sir?”

“I’m staying a bit longer.”

What is he talking about?

“It’s already evening,” Se-hyun said, pointing at the dimming sky. Winter was fading, but the sun still set early.

“Mother invited me to dinner.”

…Whose mother?

“She said it felt like having her own son and asked me to stay and eat before leaving.”

‘Did she even consider her actual son’s feelings?’

“That’s why I ordered a take-out meal from a nearby hotel. The Chief Secretary will bring it.”

“…I’ll open the door for you.”

Without another word, Se-hyun stepped ahead and opened the door to the hospital room.

After all, in the end—whoever brings the food holds the power.

—

"Oh my, the sushi is melting in my mouth."

Se-hyun’s mother’s eyes lit up with delight as she took another bite. Across from her, Shin Tae-oh gave a faint smile and handed over another to-go container.

"Please try the Guljeolpan as well. It's quite good."

Not only did he recommend it, but he also carefully arranged it so she could eat it easily.

"Thank you," she said cheerfully, taking the offered food without hesitation.

Though Se-hyun’s father wasn’t yet able to eat a complete meal, the warm abalone porridge brought a bit of color back to his face. He looked content, even with just a few spoonfuls.

Meanwhile, Se-hyun found himself with little to do. His mother was already well taken care of, thanks to Shin Tae-oh’s endless food suggestions. He just picked at whatever was nearby, quietly chewing while wondering how things had ended up like this. Maybe he really should’ve taken them to that restaurant last time, before it came to this.

As he mulled over the thought, he looked up—and caught Shin Tae-oh watching him.

"This one’s good too," Tae-oh said, casually turning toward him and offering a piece of steak.

"Thank you."

It wasn’t meant to be anything special, but Se-hyun accepted it without question. He ate the small piece quickly—it was only one bite—and immediately found himself glancing around in case someone else had wanted it too.

"It was worth ordering this much," Tae-oh commented, handing him another plate with a different kind of steak, beautifully arranged. Se-hyun couldn’t even tell where it had come from; it definitely hadn’t been on the original menu.

As she bit into a large cut of steak, Se-hyun’s mother chimed in.

"Se-hyun eats so well. You have no idea how rewarding that is for the person who made it."

"Even the one who paid for it feels rewarded."

At that, Se-hyun silently blocked his ears with an invisible wall of willpower and focused on the steak in front of him. Trying to follow the conversation between his mother and Shin Tae-oh was a lost cause now.

—

In the end, they returned home in Shin Tae-oh’s car.

“I’ll brief you on tomorrow’s schedule,” Lee Jin-ho said from the passenger seat, his voice steady despite the late hour.

Se-hyun, behind the wheel, remained silent, focusing on the road. It was nearly midnight. All he wanted was to get home—fast. His foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator, his expression darkening with fatigue.

“For lunch, you’re scheduled to meet Yoo Jin-ha. I’ll confirm with him again in the morning.”

“Wait.” Shin Tae-oh’s voice cut in, low and slightly hoarse in the quiet of the car.

“I have an appointment with Yoo Jin-ha?”

“It’s a recurring event. This time every year.”

Shin Tae-oh pressed his fingers to his temple, the memory returning with a dull weight.

’Yoo Jin-ha’s birthday.’

For the past three years, it had always been the same—an unspoken understanding between the two men. A lunch or tea, quiet and cordial. Just enough to acknowledge the date. But the decision to leave time open for it had always fallen on the secretary’s shoulders.

From the rearview mirror, Se-hyun glanced at Shin Tae-oh. His profile was sharp against the night lights, his jaw tight, lips drawn into a thin line.

‘It’s been a while since he looked like that.’

There was a time when Shin Tae-oh always wore a relaxed gaze, a sly curve to his mouth. But now and then, he shed that expression, and when he did, it was better to wait in silence. Even Lee Jin-ho seemed to understand that much. He cut off the briefing and stared ahead wordlessly.

As the tollgate passed and familiar roads came into view, Se-hyun drove toward Shin Tae-oh’s residence.

“We’ve arrived.”

At Se-hyun’s quiet announcement, Lee Jin-ho unbuckled his seatbelt and got out. He opened the back door, and after a moment, Shin Tae-oh followed, stepping out with deliberate slowness.

Se-hyun waited only until the door clicked shut before starting the engine again, intending to park the car—but the passenger door swung open before he could move.

Someone slid in.

At first, he thought it was Lee Jin-ho again, but then the scent of pheromones hit him.

“…Why are you—”

“Just go.”

Strapping in without another word, Shin Tae-oh left no room for argument.

So Se-hyun drove—into the underground garage, into deeper questions he couldn't answer.

’What the hell is he doing?’

There was a time Se-hyun thought he understood Shin Tae-oh better than anyone. He could predict his moods, read the silences between his words. He used to move ahead of him, preparing for what he hadn’t yet spoken aloud. But lately, Shin Tae-oh felt like a sealed vault.

“We’re parked.”

He said it curtly, half in dismissal. He unbuckled his seatbelt, but his gaze never left Shin Tae-oh, who lingered in his seat, fingers slow and deliberate as he undid his own belt.

“I won’t make excuses.”

Shin Tae-oh’s voice broke the silence, as if he’d been thinking long and hard—and still landed nowhere concrete.

“I’m not saying I never liked Jin-ha.”

’I didn’t ask.’

But now that he mentioned it, Se-hyun realized this was likely about the meeting tomorrow. The timing. The look on his face earlier.

“But you know I’ve changed a lot, right?”

’I don't want to know.’

“I’m really trying to be careful with what I say.”

Yet his tone was anything but cautious.

“I…”

As always, Se-hyun kept his face unreadable. He waited.

Would Tae-oh get to the point—or dodge it, as he often did?

It was obvious now. He was trying to cancel the meeting with Yoo Jin-ha. Trying to reach out. Maybe even—

“Can I go to Secretary Ahn’s house?”

There it was.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“I bought a lot of dishes for it, but I’ve never used them,” Tae-oh added quickly.

It took a beat, but Se-hyun understood. He meant the fancy dishware. The same ones he also had at his place.

So why mention it? What, like the dishes are lonely?

“If it’s about the dishes… you can come anytime.”

He said it offhandedly. There was no point arguing.

“Good. Then let’s eat together tomorrow.”

Just like that.

Like it had been decided from the beginning.

As usual, Taenyang-i never missed his chance.

Chapter Text

Se-hyun raised the hand that had been gripping the steering wheel and scratched the side of his face. He still hadn’t responded to Shin Tae-oh’s words. It wasn’t intentional silence—he was simply caught off guard. But even that small gesture drew Tae-oh’s eyes, as if following his every move.

“I’ll do it,” Se-hyun said finally, voice low but certain. The moment he made up his mind, the words came out naturally.

Then, thinking it wasn’t clear enough, he added quickly, “I’ll treat you to a meal. At that restaurant.”

Shin Tae-oh's lips curved slightly, the smile reaching his eyes. “Wait for me in front of your house tomorrow. Let’s have lunch together before heading to the office.”

That meant he didn’t have to be at work on time.

“…Understood,” Se-hyun replied easily, his voice light with unexpected relief.

“Okay then, that’s settled.”

With that, Shin Tae-oh stepped out of the car. Se-hyun instinctively reached for his seatbelt, but before he could unfasten it, Tae-oh leaned back in, speaking again.

“It’s late. Take this car and head home.”

Se-hyun paused. His hand, still hovering near the belt, dropped back to the steering wheel. He didn’t argue. And as if satisfied with that silent acceptance, Shin Tae-oh shut the car door with a gentle thud. Then he tapped on the window twice—an impatient little gesture telling him to get going already.

Se-hyun blinked at the glass.

’Is this really okay?’

Still unsure, he started the engine. The unease lingered faintly, like the aftertaste of something unsaid.

‘Something feels off.’

He felt like he had forgotten something.

As he exited the underground parking lot, he caught a glimpse of Shin Tae-oh in the side mirror—still standing there, watching.

’Must be that crazy Taenyang-i’s fault.’

He pushed the discomfort aside, blaming it on Tae-oh’s unpredictable behavior as usual.

—

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the building, Lee Jin-ho stood shivering while waiting for a taxi. He hunched into himself, breath puffing white in the cold night air.

“Three times… three times…” he muttered, reciting the promise Tae-oh had made: triple pay for the overtime.

But then, bored and cold, he let out a long sigh and murmured with a twisted little smile:

“Should I just quit?”

What was the point of earning money like this, if he was going to freeze to death doing it?

His fingers curled into his sleeves, but it didn’t help. His pride stung worse than the cold.

—

Se-hyun stood in front of the parked car, waiting for Shin Tae-oh.

Although he had originally said they would meet at Tae-oh’s place, the plan had shifted—as it often did with him—and now, here he was, waiting outside his own house instead.

’Is he bringing another car…?’

It didn’t really matter in the end. What mattered was that he’d gotten home comfortably last night, something rare enough that Se-hyun decided not to question it too much.

Still, he felt strangely out of place this morning.

It wouldn’t be a problem, technically. But since Shin Tae-oh’s car was already parked in front of Se-hyun’s house, it meant Se-hyun would have to drive both vehicles—somehow. Not exactly practical.

“I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Just getting to come home in comfort was more than enough to be thankful for.

He adjusted the front of his shirt, tugging lightly at the collar. It was nothing new—his usual clean white button-up—but it felt oddly tight on him today. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was the situation.

He glanced at the coat draped over his arm.

“How long has it been since I bought this?”

He remembered grabbing it from a rack in a store he passed while running errands. It had served him well, but now the cuffs were frayed. A little shabby, even.

“…Should I have worn something else?”

It wasn’t like he’d dressed for this. But for some reason, today, he was aware of every wrinkle, every thread out of place.

"Should I go back inside and change?"

The shirt was still unbuttoned at the top. Maybe if he just—

“Ah!”

He startled as footsteps approached. He quickly straightened his posture and turned, trying to mask his awkwardness with a polite smile.

“You’re here.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

There it was again—that casual, low tone. Not the formal voice of a superior, but something almost... intimate. Se-hyun wasn’t used to that tone from him. Not like this.

“I was just... waiting for you to come on time.”

His voice came out more flustered than intended. And under Shin Tae-oh’s scrutinizing gaze, he could feel the heat rising to his ears.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

“It’s cold. You shouldn’t be standing out here.”

“But…”

You’re the one who told me to wait outside.

“What if you catch a cold? You’ll end up giving your fourth-favorite person, the chief secretary, a hard time.”

That last part was said with deliberate force.

“I’m sorry. I thought I should wait.”

“Then dress warmer.”

“…I’ll go inside and change.”

“Let’s go in together.”

“What? No—there’s no need for that. Just wait here for a bit—”

“Here? Alone? Without my secretary?”

He tilted his head, as if the thought was incomprehensible.

It wasn’t like Se-hyun had a choice.

’I really don’t want to let him in…’

If he came in, who knew when he’d leave?

“Well, in the past…”

Tae-oh took a step forward. His legs were long, and each stride cut the distance like it meant something.

“I used to think Secretary Ahn always looked the same—calm, composed, expressionless.”

He studied Se-hyun’s face so closely that Se-hyun instinctively brought a hand up to shield it.

“But…”

Had he noticed something?

“You’re still the same.”

Se-hyun mumbled under his breath. His ears were turning red—again. Why was this even affecting him?

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“That’s why I didn’t know,” Tae-oh murmured. “I never thought to look directly into your eyes.”

Before Se-hyun could reply, a voice cut through the air.

“You two seem close.”

He turned sharply.

“Ha Jin-seong?”

The man was already walking over, raising a hand in casual greeting.

“It’s not like I just happened to pass by. I came to see you.”

Se-hyun flicked a quick glance at Tae-oh. Of course, he hadn't told him that Jin-seong had been here before. Now, there was no way to explain this visit away.

“What business does Jin-seong-i have with my secretary?” Tae-oh asked, turning slightly to block the space between them.

“I have nothing to say to you. Move.”

“No. I said—he’s my secretary.”

Jin-seong scoffed. “Your secretary, my ass. I need to talk to Ahn Se-hyun.”

Tae-oh didn’t even blink. He wasn’t the kind of man to move unless he wanted to.

“I have something to ask first.”

His voice was low, unbothered. He didn’t care that Jin-seong was listening.

“How did you find out?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“How did you know about me?”

He didn’t say it directly, but Se-hyun understood. He meant the incident—the wine, the unspoken secret.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He wouldn’t admit it. Didn’t want to get involved.

“You don’t know?”

Jin-seong’s smile was crooked. Not amused—calculated.

“That shouldn’t be the case.”

He stepped forward, brushing past Tae-oh’s looming presence to lock eyes with him instead.

“If that’s true, I’m even more curious now.”

That wasn’t a bluff. He meant it. He was going to try and take Se-hyun.

“Our Jin-seong is quite greedy,” Tae-oh said flatly, “coveting what belongs to others.”

“Because it seems worth it.”

Jin-seong didn’t flinch. He smiled with the same sharp glint in his eyes.

And Se-hyun, stuck between the two of them, let out a long sigh.

What’s there to covet? All I did was spill wine.

Why is this character so one-dimensional?

Compared to the increasingly cryptic Shin Tae-oh, Ha Jin-seong felt almost… cartoonish.

“Ahn Se-hyun,” Jin-seong called, not taking his eyes off Tae-oh, “shouldn’t you at least reimburse me for the shirt you ruined?”

Wow... This was so cheesy.

He clearly said he would pay for the laundry, but the cost of the shirt?

Se-hyun took a deep breath, considering his financial situation.

"I'll cover the laundry expenses."

"I threw it away."

"...What?"

What kind of bullshit is that?

And then, with that same insufferable smirk—

“You don’t need to pay for the shirt. Just become my secretary.”

He’s really shameless.

At least he wasn’t facing this circus alone. Tae-oh, who had been silent until now, spoke with a scoff of disbelief.

“That’s some impressive nonsense. Comparing my secretary to a ruined shirt.”

Jin-seong was enjoying this now, smiling wider.

“You really think you know him that well? You hired him for his resume, his skills. But would you regret it if I took him?”

He poked Tae-oh in the shoulder, smirking.

“Go hire another one. You’re good at it.”

His voice dropped.

“How much longer do you think you can keep him?”

Tae-oh’s expression darkened.

And watching that change, Se-hyun bit down on his lip.

I can’t let this go on.

He still didn’t fully understand Jin-seong’s angle, but the moment he saw Shin Tae-oh start to falter, he couldn’t stay silent.

“Sir, let me explain—”

"Jin-seong,"

It was the moment Se-hyun grabbed Shin Tae-oh's arm.

A faint emotion slowly spread across Shin Tae-oh's expressionless face.

It manifested as a polite smile, which not only surprised Se-hyun but also Ha Jin-seong.

"Why wouldn't I know Ahn Se-hyun?"

Shin Tae-oh regained his usual calmness. No, it seemed even more calmer than usual.

Se-hyun was taken aback as he watched Shin Tae-oh turn away from him.

What's with his gaze?

"You want to know how close we are? I heard Se-hyun calls me a cunning cat."
(note: he means tae-nyang-i!!)

"..."

There had been too many instances of him calling Shin Tae-oh Tae-nyangi... Se-hyun had no clue when he found out.