Ch 9

Episode 9

Six months before that day (3)

Even before opening his eyes, Eunho’s whole body shivered with chills, and waves of intermittent headaches pressed in. Forcing open one eye, he checked the room temperature—it was the usual 25 degrees. Wondering if his heat cycle, delayed because of a business trip, was finally returning, he thought about taking leave. He’d had days like this before, dragging on weakly for a day or two, so he decided to monitor his condition for now and took a suppressant.

“……”

He hesitated over the submit button for his leave request, sipping the hot coffee he had prepared in advance. Fortunately, as the warmth slid down his throat, the symptoms of the fever faded quickly. Eunho alternated between staring at the leave request screen and Choi Yoonjae’s number before shaking his head, closing the laptop, and heading straight for the shower.

“Why do you think he gave up B-gate and chose Studio G instead?”

“Who knows? Isn’t Executive Director Choi being way too aggressive with investments these days?”

“This isn’t aggressive—it’s practically gambling.”

“He did the same with that U.S. deal. What’s gotten into him lately?”

About two months ago, after four conference calls and eight meetings, Executive Director Choi Yoonjae had pushed the coin exchange B-gate nearly to the brink of approval, only to suddenly drop it and finalize an investment in the FPS game company Studio G, which had previously been on hold. The entire company grew unsettled.

Even within the Investment Division, opinions were divided on this decision, and CEO Han himself openly pressed Yoonjae, saying he couldn’t understand it. Yoonjae, playing his final card, declared he would step down if the second-half investment results turned out disastrous. Only then did Han reluctantly back off.

The employees, however, remained baffled. B-gate was already one of the top three coin exchanges in the country with ten million customers and daily cash transactions in the billions.

Studio G wasn’t a poor choice, but the investment wasn’t an early entry—the stock price had already soared. And with games, no one could guarantee success without seeing results. This deal involved 30 billion won. On the surface, B-gate was the obvious choice.

The secretariat shared the same view. They dismissed Yoonjae’s decision as that of a stubborn child, harshly criticizing him.

One secretary, watching the mood, sauntered up to Eunho, resting his arms on the partition and peering down.

“Do you know something we don’t?”

“No. I think he just thought it through carefully before deciding.”

“Of course he’d think hard—it’s billions on the line. Still, he rarely bulldozes through by ignoring the reports from the division… something’s really off these days.”

Eunho only shrugged with a small smile. Since joining, all he’d ever seen were aggressive investment styles from Yoonjae; if anything, he was curious what the man had been like before.

Thinking his fever had subsided, Eunho threw himself into work, but by after lunch, his head grew heavier. It wasn’t yet at the stage where he couldn’t control his pheromones, so maybe he could last until the 3 PM external meeting. Though worried, he didn’t want to disrupt work. He swallowed another suppressant and stood up.

He was fine even when he gathered the documents from a secretary and rode the elevator down. But when he started the car and saw Yoonjae approaching, the rush of alpha pheromones flooding in as the door opened made his vision blur.

No matter how hard he resisted, his body, faithful to instinct, weakened and sagged. Grinding his teeth, he tried to stay rational, but it felt like half of his reason had already flown away.

“…Yoo Eunho?”

The moment the door opened, Yoonjae, too, instinctively realized Eunho was entering his heat cycle. Seeing Eunho’s trembling grip on the wheel, he leaned in and grasped Eunho’s hand. The slightest alpha touch made Eunho jolt violently and press himself against the window.

“Don’t drive. Get in the passenger seat.”

Yoonjae went around, opened the back door, then the driver’s side. Cold sweat dripping, Eunho tried to stand, swaying with dizziness, and raised a hand, gesturing for him not to touch.

Breathing raggedly, Eunho slumped into the passenger seat, closing his eyes as he berated himself.

Even if he left early now, the thought of getting home was daunting. His pheromones were leaking so badly he could feel it himself, and if things worsened, he might collapse and be dragged off by some stranger alpha. Better to show a shameful face to his own boss than risk that. Clenching his jaw, he mustered a sliver of courage.

“…I’m sorry… Executive Director. Please… take me home…”

The heat of his pheromones seeped between the broken pauses of his words. Yoonjae forced himself to stay focused, fearing he’d be swept up, too. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled his contacts.

“Secretary Han, I think I’ll have to cancel the 3 o’clock meeting. Please handle it. If it can’t be this week, next week will do. Thanks.”

Ending the call, he tried another number, but got no answer. Sighing, he left a quick message, then draped his coat over Eunho’s shoulders.

“I’ll open the window.”

As the car climbed out of the basement, Yoonjae lowered all but Eunho’s window halfway. If he let the omega pheromones overwhelm him, they could end up in an accident.

Icy outdoor air rushed in, flooding the cabin. Instinctively, Eunho buried his face deeper into the coat to escape the cold—even as his body unconsciously sought the alpha’s scent.

“You should’ve taken the day off. No one would’ve blamed you.”

“I was going to… take tomorrow off. Haah…”

“……”

“…I’m sorry.”

His heavy sigh tangled with the roar of the wind. Though he turned on the heater, the piercing gusts were so strong that Eunho’s hands shook as he clutched the coat. Finally, he pulled it over his head.

“Are you that cold?”

“…I’m fine.”

Yoonjae closed the back windows, leaving only his own half-open. Even he was starting to burn up under the pull of Eunho’s pheromones. Running a hand down his jaw, he exhaled harshly.

“…Haa, why here…”

Eunho stiffened at the rumble of massive iron gates opening outside his window. Hastily pulling the coat away, he stared in shock.

“…M-my house, please…”

He tried to undo the seatbelt, but his vision blurred and his strength gave out. When his fumbling failed, Yoonjae quietly reached over, unfastened the belt, and spoke in a firm, clipped tone.

“I won’t do anything.”

“…What?”

“I said I won’t touch you. I already called a doctor, so just hold on a little longer.”

At the sincerity in his tone, Eunho, who had been bristling with tension, finally let himself relax and leaned the back of his head against the seat. Just his closeness alone was enough to dampen Eunho’s lower body with how lethal an alpha’s pheromones could be.

He couldn’t hold on to his fading consciousness and went slack. The moment Eunho decided to trust Yoonjae’s last words, the last thread of reason slipped away.

Yoonjae tried to support his limp body and lead him along the stone path through the garden, but when Eunho seemed about to collapse entirely, he had no choice but to hoist him onto his back.

The hot breath ghosting against his nape made Yoonjae grit his teeth as he opened the front door. Coming home earlier than expected was one thing, but walking in with the secretary he always saw at work slumped against his back left the housemaid flustered, pacing in the hallway.

“…Phew.”

The moment Yoonjae pushed into the master bedroom, he set Eunho down on the bed. Pheromones surged again, leaving his head spinning. As he fished his phone from his pocket to check how far the doctor was,

“…Director Choi.”

Eunho, crawling weakly on the bed, reached out and groped his thigh. His eyes were glazed over, reason long gone. Yoonjae had to end the call in haste when Eunho’s hand brushed against his painfully sensitive front.

“Yoo Eunho.”

When he tried to unbuckle his belt, Yoonjae grabbed both wrists. But Eunho pressed his flushed cheek against the back of his hand, instinctively seeking the alpha’s touch.

“…Please.”

Drenched in pheromones, Eunho didn’t even know what he was saying. His instincts only screamed that the man before him was the alpha he craved.

Barely restraining himself, Yoonjae let out a hollow laugh at the reckless temptation.

“Hold on a little longer.”

“…Put it in.”

“Do you even realize what you’re saying right now?”

“…Nngh.”

Eunho shook his head, breath hot through his nose, testing Yoonjae’s restraint. Watching a side of Eunho he had never seen before, sparks flared in Yoonjae’s eyes.

“And you said you wanted to go home like this?”

“…Put it in, please…”

“Who do you think that’s going to benefit?”

The whites of Yoonjae’s eyes were bloodshot from the effort of holding himself back. Eunho, lost to the haze, did everything he could to seduce the alpha before him. He slipped off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, only to have his hands caught again by Yoonjae’s large palms.

“…Haa, I want you.”

“Not now. Say it when you truly want it.”

“Haa, do it now.”

His clouded gaze held not a shred of reason. Yoonjae, gritting his teeth, pushed Eunho away as pheromones smothered him. The line of his jaw was taut, veins bulging.

“I’m holding back because I don’t want to see you regret this when you wake up. Don’t think it’s easy for me either.”

“…Please.”

Just then, commotion rose outside the door. Footsteps approached quickly, followed by a knock. On the verge of breaking, Yoonjae barked out permission to enter. The doctor rushed in, administering a sedative along with synthetic alpha pheromones, and the suffocating omega scent finally began to subside.

Breathing harshly, Yoonjae collapsed into a chair at the table. A moment later and he might have given in to Eunho’s flushed, ripe expression and made a mistake he couldn’t take back. Even he hadn’t been in his right mind at the edge of his limits.

Only after the doctor listed a few precautions and left did the room quiet down, a faint trace of omega pheromones drifting like a whisper.

“Ha…”

Yoonjae moved to the bedside and sat down, studying Eunho’s sleeping face. His hair, damp with sweat from the earlier fever, clumped messily in places. When Yoonjae ran his fingers through it like a comb, his smooth forehead brushed against his palm.

Watching him sleep, Yoonjae fell into deep thought.

Something had happened that never occurred before. Or perhaps it had, and he simply hadn’t noticed. Back then, his secretary was Secretary Han, while Eunho stayed mostly in the office. It was natural he wouldn’t know.

But ever since Eunho had become his aide, Yoonjae saw more. Maybe because of the affection that lingered after Eunho’s fatal accident in the past—an accident erased now that time had rewound—he no longer evaluated him solely by competence, but saw him as a person in three dimensions.

During their trip to Singapore, Yoonjae had glimpsed a side of Eunho he hadn’t known: a man with as much loneliness as warmth. Yoonjae had confided things not just because of the alcohol, but because it was Eunho listening.

Even though Eunho was alive in this returned timeline, Yoonjae’s fear that he might die again like that day planted a constant unease in him. That fear made him reveal parts of himself to Eunho he never would have otherwise.

Without that exchange of emotions, he would have simply asked Secretary Han to take Eunho to a hospital instead of driving him home himself when the heat cycle struck.

Rubbing his stiff neck, Yoonjae trudged into the shower. His body still throbbed with pent-up heat, a burden left behind after being engulfed in the pheromone waves of an omega in cycle.

***

A faint vibration at his head made Eunho reach out groggily. The texture of the sheets, the scent of the fabric softener—different from his own. Most of all, the unfamiliar alpha pheromone lingering in the air jolted him awake.

“My god…”

He had never stepped into this bedroom, but from the pervasive scent, this had to be Yoonjae’s. Realization struck, and Eunho clapped a hand over his mouth, springing to his feet. A thin band was taped to his arm.

‘I said I won’t touch you. I already called a doctor, so just hold on a little longer.’

Eunho recalled those words he’d heard just before losing consciousness. Looking himself over, he found nothing unusual. It was hard to believe that only hours ago he’d been drowning in a heat cycle—the state of his body was no different from normal.

‘Crazy, absolutely crazy.’

Eunho buried his face in both hands, consumed with shame, scolding himself before slowly lifting his head to scan his surroundings.

“…….”

The bedroom was one thing, but the silence outside struck him. He carefully opened the door. Contrary to his expectation of finding the housekeeper, the living room was empty.

Was it already late? He realized he hadn’t even checked the time before rushing out. On the dining table, dishes covered with lids—presumably dinner—waited, still warm under their covers. From the looks of it, the housekeeper had long since gone home.

From a room at the end of the hall came a steady, rhythmic sound. It wasn’t unfamiliar, yet not entirely recognizable either. Even before opening the door, Eunho could feel Yoonjae’s presence radiating from within. His pheromones seeped faintly through the cracks.

Yoonjae, sweating on the treadmill while watching a financial news channel, sensed the door open and turned his head.

“You’re awake?”

“…Yes.”

He stopped, grabbed the towel hanging nearby, and wiped the sweat streaming down his face. Catching Eunho’s expression, he quickly reined in his pheromones. He hadn’t been suppressing them while venting his pent-up heat through exercise, and Eunho’s sudden appearance caught him off guard.

His thin short-sleeved shirt clung damply to his body, outlining the sharp lines of his torso. His chest, firm beneath the collarbone, rose and fell with each breath.

“Eat before you leave. You need to eat anyway.”

Yoonjae walked to the kitchen and lifted the lid on a bowl of soup. Steam rose from beef and mushroom porridge inside. It was obvious at a glance that this had been prepared specifically for Eunho. Taking the hint, Eunho quietly pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

Pouring water into a cup and passing it over, Yoonjae wiped his damp forehead with the towel.

“Take a sip first. Your mouth must be dry.”

Perhaps it was the weariness in Yoonjae’s voice, but Eunho suddenly felt as though he were sitting across from a close friend, his guard threatening to slip.

After drinking a small sip of water, Eunho carefully set the cup down, his hands fidgeting quietly on the table. Through his fallen bangs, Yoonjae noticed those slender fingers gathering the spoon and chopsticks.

“I don’t remember clearly, but if I acted rudely in any way, I’d like to apologize.”

“…Nothing like that happened.”

Still, Eunho couldn’t let go of suspicion. The first time he had experienced a heat cycle, his family told him afterward how he’d sobbed and clung to them without even recognizing who they were. They’d said it was fortunate it had been family, because otherwise, if he’d been with a stranger, it could’ve been terrifying. That memory left him deeply ashamed.

And the man before him was a dominant alpha. To believe his words at face value—that nothing happened—was impossible. Yoonjae was only protecting him because he was his employee. What gnawed at Eunho was the anxiety of not knowing just how far his heat cycle-induced loss of control had gone.