He’s a Fox Ch 63

Chapter 63

He had hidden his face in his hands, silent, when the cool brush of air across his bare shoulder startled him into awareness. The sheet had slipped, leaving skin exposed to the morning draft. In that instant, he remembered again—he was completely naked. The tips of his ears burned crimson.

Growing up in a house of seven siblings, privacy had always been a luxury. With so many bodies crammed together, stripping down anywhere outside the bathhouse had always won sharp glares and jeers. Even in his own home he rarely undressed beyond necessity. Yet here he was—in someone else’s house, no less!—and entirely nude. Shame bit at him until his eyes watered.

Frantic to cover himself, Hohyun tugged the sheet up. But the moment he yanked, the blanket peeled back from the body beside him—revealing sculpted muscle, sharp definition like a statue carved of living flesh. He gasped, dropping it as though burned.

It was one thing to “know” from the feel of touching skin that the tiger too was unclothed. It was quite another to see it. And this was the unguarded body of the very man he held a hopeless crush on. His brain short-circuited in a blaze of overexposure. He squeezed eyes shut tight.

But there were no other coverings within reach. No convenient spare blankets, no discarded clothes atop the bed. Nothing. Facing an impossible dilemma, he chose—for now—to endure uncovered. More urgent was understanding how such a scene had happened in the first place.

His memory was piecemeal. Dinner with siblings to console a heartbroken brother—clear as day. Too much drink at the galbi house. Resolving to text his employer, reporting he might not make it home. That, he was certain of.

Yes! The text.

If nothing else, the message might tell him what had followed. He patted instinctively at his pockets—then flushed again. Naked. No pockets. He glanced wildly around, bare hands shielding his chest.

In the corner lay a pile of clothes, his own mixed with others far too large to mistake. The tiger’s. He balled his fists in determination, heart hammering.

All the while, Kangwoon’s breathing did not waver—deep, steady, a nocturnal beast sunk in daylight sleep. That much was a blessing. But… the problem was legs. Sometime in the night, their limbs had tangled tight. To pull free would surely wake him.

Unless…

The fox tiptoed within his own skin and shifted. His smaller true form slid out cleaner, less surface pressed. In vulpine body, he slipped free smooth as shadow. Success! Triumph curled his tail. Just one more step: find the phone!

But fate had sharper teeth. The instant he slid off the sheet, the subtle shift of weight stirred the sleeper. A large arm swept out, scooping him back into the tiger’s chest.

“…Back already? Why wake so soon…?”

The voice. Deep, hoarse with morning, reverberating against his ears. It fried every nerve. UWAAAH!! His tail thrashed helplessly, muffling his panic.

The tiger stirred faintly at the tickling, rumbling low in annoyance that melted in a smile. His eyes, still warm with drowsy curve, became Hohyun’s undoing. Nothing—absolutely nothing—could defend against that face. His mind went blank, his body froze.

A cheek brushed down into his fur, nuzzling. Soft. Heated. Dangerously comforting. A hand patted, rhythmic, at his back. He melted on instinct, strength seeping until lashes dipped.

This is absurd. I should get up, get dressed—

But his muscles betrayed him, lulled by the tiger’s presence, his own exhaustion pulling him under. And thus the fox lost, exiled to dreamland once more—and only rose again sluggishly by late afternoon.

“…Thirsty…” he croaked. His throat scraped dry, his tongue gummy. Like swallowing a lump of butter. He stumbled to wobbling legs, eyes still shut against brightness.

But when he stepped down, utterly, his knees gave. Whump. He stared dumbly from the floor.

He had been in countless scrapes, battered, bruised—never had his body betrayed him with such weakness. Never had he simply collapsed like this. While he puzzled, a shadow loomed behind. Strong hands slid beneath his arms, lifting him with ease. Bare palms against his naked skin jolted him wide awake.

Deposited back onto the bed, the fox dove under the sheet in shame. Better a coward than bared again.

From above came the voice, calm, unruffled:

“Want me to carry you there… or bring it here?”

“T-the second one…” squeaked the fox beneath linen.

The tiger left with heavy steps, deliberately loud so the hidden fox could relax. Only when silence spread again did Hohyun peek out. The clothing pile was gone, tidied away. On the bedside table rested wallet and phone.

He grabbed the phone with trembling fingers, biting his lip hard. A single look at last night’s message…

His jaw dropped.

The text was… atrocious. A string of gibberish and numbers without any coherence. So botched that anyone would believe a pet cat had walked across the keyboard. No meaning could be salvaged.

…but it had been sent, undeniable. And after, a call log—thirty-seven minutes of conversation with his employer.

Conversation. With this man. And he remembered none of it.

Even an arrogant detective from a mystery novel could not deduce what happened. What words were spoken? What promises made?

As these thoughts swirled, he failed to sense the approaching footsteps. Not until something cold tapped against his cheek did he snap his head up—