He’s a Fox Ch 70

Chapter 70

“Wanna come up?”

The fox, unwilling to admit defeat after sneaking in, seized at the offer instantly. His body shrank, condensed—and in a blink there sat a tiny fox. Kangwoon scooped him with ease, plopped him into his lap, then used his foot to lazily sweep all remaining clothes beneath the desk. Every trace of the intruder concealed, the knocker entered.

Peeking discreetly, the fox’s tensed shoulders released when he saw it wasn’t the alligator, just some servant he didn’t know. Eyes closing in relief, his limp body melted sideways like cheese.

As Kangwoon conversed with the newcomer, the fox sprawled across his thigh. Yet a peculiar discomfort surfaced. Beneath his belly—more specifically, the tiger’s left thigh—something pressed with undeniable presence. Too soft for a phone, too firm for cloth. Curiosity peaked—he prodded with paws, squirmed against it—

The tiger’s frame jolted.

“…Ah—”

He cut off his sentence mid-conversation with a pained grunt. Both fox and visitor froze. A beat later, Kangwoon hefted the small body upward, lifting the culprit from his lap. The newcomer’s eyes bulged nearly free, dumbstruck as a tiny fox emerged from the tiger’s knees.

Moving him swiftly to the right thigh, Kangwoon muttered, voice strained:

“That’s… not something that can be removed. Stay here instead.”

The fox blinked, confused. What could he possibly mean by “not detachable”? The thought struck belatedly. His ears drooped. His paws trembled. He remembered exactly what he’d just been pressing, over and over.

He had been stomping all over the tiger’s… most vital organ.

His ears flattened and he wailed. “Kki-aaanng!!”

“It’s fine,” came the hasty reassurance. “You didn’t know.”

“Kuung… kki-aaaeng!”

He squeaked, half-weeping, forgetting he needed vocal shifts to be understood. Still, the tiger deciphered his distress, gently rubbing his head to calm him. In truth, it had been awkward—but better soothe than admit the truth aloud; else, the fox might scream at him to drop his trousers in proof.

With quick glances, Kangwoon subtly dismissed the servant. A nod, polite bow, the door shut. Alone together, he stroked the fox’s head. His whole hand encompassed it effortlessly. Long motions, smoothing from crown to nape. For several minutes, steadily until the trembling calmed, melted like softened butter.

Then—the muffled bustle of voices outside. His alert ears pricked upward. Kangwoon cocked his head.

“Sounds like Haeseong got caught.”

“…!”

Indeed, the weasel—who had wedged behind the refrigerator—was finally flushed out by the alligator, despite the black bear still untouched. The fox marveled aloud. “I actually saw him transform…”

Satisfied, the tiger set him gently back to the floor. He fished out the clothes he had hidden beneath the desk and handed them over.

The fox hesitated, mouth caught. Why not change already? Kangwoon smirked, tapping his muzzle.

“Why shy now, after you’ve already seen everything? Just change.”

Whining faintly, the fox swatted with forepaws. The tiger chuckled, spinning his chair away.

“I won’t look. Go on.”

Only then did the rustle of fabric begin. A soft tap at his shoulder signaled readiness. Turning back, the tiger met flushed cheeks and a sheepish grin. Instantly, he reclaimed what interruption had cost.

Their faces drew close. Lips touched, pressed, lingered. His larger hands clasped tightly, fingers interlacing with the fox’s, thumb rubbing the web of fragile skin between digits—gentle, intimate. Too much.

A hiccup burst from the fox.

Startled, mortified, he bolted—toppling out, crashing loud. Heads whipped toward him—

“Eh? You were hiding in the boss’s study—”

“B-bathroom! I’m going to the bathroom!!”

He cried out and sprinted past, diving headlong into the washroom, ignoring even the risk of tripping. Coldest tap spun full. He splashed water over his scalded face. Only when drenched and dripping did he return.

But already the next game had begun.

The weasel, peering beneath the sofa, looked up aghast at the soaked figure strolling shamelessly. “What the hell—why are you—”

The fox brushed past, unbothered, standing plainly before him: “Then, you found me.”

Baffled, the weasel shouted the capture loudly: “FOUND HIM!!”

Drawn by the call, the alligator and then the bear emerged—

“Again? Caught instantly?”

“Ha, what were you doing?”

Shoulders slumped, the fox dutifully touched the wall, silently promising to count. The crowd scattered anew; little footsteps last of all.

As numbers whispered from his mouth, inside he groaned.

Every touch, every kiss from the tiger sent his heart bursting. Embarrassment flooded each moment. Yet nothing remedied it. The problem wasn’t the tiger—it was that affection itself was intoxicating.

Only solution—practice. Repetition. Build tolerance. Desensitization.

Start simply—just sit side by side calmly. Increase intensity gradually. Yet one hitch presented itself:

The longer I’m beside him… the more he touches.

By habit, the tiger’s great hand lingered—hair tousles, cheek brushes, teasing bites. None casual to him—but to the fox, far too charged.

That night, after dinner and hide-and-seek ended, he plotted solution. His idea: approach in fox-form. A small animal, nothing more. Surely safe.

So he padded up to the living room sofa where the tiger sat, weary from day’s work. He pawed to climb, then was hoisted easily, plunked at his side. Tiny fox bottom pressed steadfastly against his great thigh.

The tiger’s lips twitched fondly at the warmth. His palm lowered to rub the crown. The fox’s eyes shimmered, bright as stars. He glowed in reflected lamp light, but truly—he looked imbued with constellations.

The tiger, moved, scooped him higher. Their faces neared once again—

Alarmed, the fox planted forepaws hard over the man’s mouth. Already footsteps padded down the corridor—Yuri, racing for goodnight.

The tiger only gazed at him slyly. Then—opened mouth wide, fit the entire paw between his lips, and sucked.

A scratch of barbed tongue rasped slick across paw pads.

The fox squealed. Loud, pitiful, a keening cry.

And Yuri arrived just in time to see it.

Her puppy Oppa’s paw—stuffed obscenely in her brother’s mouth. Fur bristled along her back, tail puffed full. Shock split her eyes wide.