He’s a Fox Ch 90

Chapter 90

They say it takes two hands to clap—so why, no matter how often their mouths rubbed together, did the gulf in finesse remain the same? At first, it was to be expected. But even after dozens upon dozens of attempts, the disparity still held, which struck the fox as odd. Did coordination extend even to this sort of thing?

While Hohyun—clumsy at most bodily tasks—distracted himself with that silly line of thought, Kangwoon gently caught the fox’s lower lip between his teeth. It was a painless nip, more teasing than sharp; Hohyun giggled out loud. He’d been bitten so much that this level of pressure now read more as affection than threat.

Exhaling through lips left damp from contact, the fox wore a face that seemed to ask—why now, in the middle of a movie? The tiger didn’t answer. Instead, he tapped lightly at the hand spread across his chest. The indecency of that placement made the fox squeal and jerk away.

“S‑sorry!”

“No need to be. It’s yours anyway—do as you please.”

If there is taking, there ought to be giving. Having ceded ownership of his body so willingly to the fox, the tiger extended his own hand in turn—if I’m yours, then you’re mine, aren’t you? The fox, too enchanted by the line “I’m yours” to muster any protest, embraced him without argument.

Thus, in the shadowed heart of the theater room—long after the endless end credits had finished, even after the system shut the screen off—they lingered and lingered in one another.

So thoroughly fused that they felt like a single creature, their destination afterward naturally resolved to be the tiger’s room. On the wide bed, the fox drifted off—then woke again, in the gray hours before dawn. For some reason, the tiger beside him was rising.

Ordinarily, once Beom Kangwoon fell asleep, nothing short of an emergency would wake him. Curious, the fox cracked his eyes and turned his head. In the faint, predawn light, the body: a sculpture of pure animal power, muscles tracing every line. Not a flaw, not a gap—no soul on earth could find fault there.

While the bleary fox gazed at his lover as one might a marble statue in a museum, the tiger felt the stare and leaned in, whispering close.

“It’s still dawn. Sleep more.”

A hand reached out to stroke his hair—and a heavy drowsiness pulled at him. He nearly fell back under. Nearly—but he pried his eyes wide, remembering his question. His voice scraped dry.

“Wh‑what… time is it?”

His desiccated throat kicked out a reflex cough. The tiger, hearing it, passed him the water set on the bedside table. For some time now there had always been a brimming glass there in the mornings, for the fox who so often woke thirsty.

He accepted the cup and gulped greedily. The tiger answered kindly:

“Five twenty‑one.”

They’d left the theater a little after two, which made three hours of sleep. Knowing he was far short of any recommended allotment, sleep swelled back in, thick and sweet. The fox burrowed into soft sheets, half‑floating. The tiger patted his back and said:

“No need to wake early tomorrow. Sleep as much as you like. Though I might be out in the morning…”

“You’re going out?”

“Need to stop by the hospital.”

“…The hospital?”

At that unexpected word, the fox shot upright. The tiger pressed him gently back down and tapped the pill bottle beside the water.

“The effect’s too faint. I’m going to get the prescription adjusted.”

Realizing this was a continuation of last night’s issue—not an illness—the fox exhaled in relief and let himself sink back.

And the next morning, just as asked, he didn’t stir until the sun had risen.

Winter meant late sunrise, so in truth it wasn’t that late at all. On habit, he thumbed his phone, opened the portal site—and gaped at the banner headline. Breath held, he devoured every line, so absorbed that a sudden “Wah!” tore from his mouth a beat later. Even as he slapped a hand over his lips, his eyes never left the screen. His tail had sprung out, wagging furiously.

Tail still fluttering, he finished the article in a rush, didn’t even comb his bed‑head, and bolted outside. Ears swept the hall, seeking one voice—caught it—and he thundered toward the lounge.

“Boss, did you see—!”

He had barely caught the tiger’s back when he blurted out—and only then noticed three sets of eyes fixed on him. One pair small, round, and blue; one pair slanted, golden; and one pair washed‑out brown. The man seated across from the tiger, watching with lively interest, nodded a greeting.

“Hello, Hohyun-ssi.”

“Ah—hello…”

It was the wolf—Kim Hyunseok. Flustered at the unexpected visitor, the fox crept closer with a sheepish look. The tiger reached out and carded his fingers through the fox’s hair. Only then did Hohyun realize he looked exactly like someone freshly tumbled from bed.

While he hurriedly smoothed his snarled hair, Yuri clambered over her brother to cross the sofa. The little tiger claimed his lap and blinked slowly. Months now, living cheek by jowl with felines—Hohyun returned the greeting in the same feline way with natural ease. The tiger drew him quietly to his side, and the wolf watched with open envy.

He only had a moment to gaze fondly at the perpetually prim little princess before Hyunseok spoke brightly.

“Oh right—did you hear the news too, Hohyun-ssi? There was an article this morning.”

“…Ah! Right!”

At that prompt, the fox remembered the headline that had shocked him awake. His tail—still not tucked away—wagged hard enough to speak for him. The wolf, fellow Canidae, smiled in approval. Conversation flickered between them; the only one left ignorant, the tiger, frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“What is it?”

“…Oh. Right. There’s a princess present.”

“Mm‑hmm. Yuri’s here.”

“It’s nothing much. Just news about my cousin.”

With both tigers pricking their ears at once, the wolf’s face folded into chagrin. Not the best topic for a child’s hearing, he softened the phrasing. Even so, the gist wasn’t hard to grasp. The fox slid his phone toward the tiger—angled out of the child’s sight.

Reading the screen, a glint lit the tiger’s eyes. Details were sparse, but the line was clear enough: a large sweep of traffickers had been arrested.

Denied a proper explanation, the child’s eyes lost interest. Sensing this was “adult talk,” the princess tugged the fox’s tail. Doggy Oppa—come to my room with me. She cupped two tiny hands around his ear and whispered, lest anyone overhear. The fox rose and headed off for the child’s room.

Unintended, yet it left the two men alone—at which point the wolf dropped his filters.

“My house is a warzone because of that. Since this morning—phew. We’re basically on strike for a while.”

“Figures. Your mother and father—no comment?”

“Well, it’s not like they didn’t already know.”

Grinning to himself—no doubt picturing his cousin Kim Kyungseok—the wolf gleamed. He looked utterly pleased.

“And I heard your shares are none too small in all this, Beom-ssi—and Hohyun-ssi’s too. Feels like ten years’ worth of heartburn just… gone.”

The fox, who felt he’d done next to nothing, only scratched the back of his head. The tiger focused less on the praise and more on the phrasing. The word “our” put sand in his mouth. Catching the shift, the wolf clicked his tongue lightly. So adamant before that they were “definitely not dating,” and now—this. Shaking his head, he dove into his real purpose.

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