dreams spun in berries & fluff

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    Chapter 24

    “If you keep looking like that, you won’t go. Turn around. Now.”

    “
Okay.”

    Forcing a bright smile and a wave, Sanhong stepped out with effort.

    The door shut firm, and a deep sigh spread through the quiet hallway. Steadying himself, he drove. Before heading back to Horangyong-dong, he stopped at the gas station he always used.

    “Oh? Long time no see!”

    “Yes. Hello.”

    His regular station. The owner was always kind, and also a fellow parent at the kids’ kindergarten.

    “Same amount as always?”

    “Yes, please.”

    “Got it! One moment!”

    Always smiling.

    He took out his card in advance and waited to pay. Soon, the owner—having filled the tank—handed tissues and wet wipes through the driver’s window.

    “We’re planning a little get-together among the parents—would you be able to come?”

    “Ah
”

    A touch flustered, he soon smiled and answered.

    “Can I check my schedule and let you know?”

    “Of course! And no worries if not! I didn’t mean to pressure you!”

    Waving both hands, the owner insisted it was no burden.

    “See you next time, then~”

    “Yes! Drive safe!”

    He’d only stopped for gas, and yet they’d fussed over him. Tissues and wet wipes were the baseline; they even pressed some gum and peppermint candies into his hand.

    He unwrapped a mint and popped it into his mouth. The sweet taste was a rarity. Feeling oddly good, he even turned on soft music—something he seldom did—and drove toward dark, out-of-the-way Horangyong-dong.

    A neighborhood that took your breath away every time you came. The fact that even this was becoming familiar felt, somehow, sad.

    About an hour later, he arrived. As always, he tucked the car away in a corner lot and walked. At the building, he slipped into the slippers he kept on the first floor like nothing was amiss.

    He’d left them there once; no one had taken them, and so the spot had become his shoe rack by habit.

    Inside the shabby building, a noise came from somewhere. He stopped and traced it. He knew right away.

    “
Upstairs.”

    Only the pawnshop was upstairs.

    Hearing someone there so early in the day, he sighed and took the stairs slow. At the second floor, a group came into view down the hall.

    Weariness surged already.

    “Oh? You’re finally here? Move your ass a little, will you.”

    “

”

    The punks from the supermarket last night.

    Apparently not needing sleep, they were camped out in the early morning. By the entrance, instant noodle cups and bottles lay strewn—as if they’d stayed the night.

    At the sight, something rose hot to the crown of his head.

    “Hey, Yeon Sanhong. We’ll give you this, so give us a loan, yeah?”

    Juyoung grinned, shaking the same watch as yesterday. He smelled faintly of alcohol but not overpowering. He said fine and edged through them to stand at the pawnshop door.

    “You know how to fill out a contract, right?”

    “Do we look that dumb to you?”

    “Yeah. A little
”

    With blunt honesty, he opened the door.

    A rough hand grabbed his hair. He swallowed the scream that almost burst out and bit down hard on his lower lip.

    The punk yanked him in by the hair. Looking down at the smaller man’s clear face, he gave a slimy grin.

    “Pretty face, aren’t you?”

    “Hey, hey. Don’t grab him by the hair. Hey, Sanhong, sorry. This asshole just wasn’t raised right.”

    “

”

    “Hey. Even if he looks like that, he’s older than us. Hyung.”

    Funny that someone who knew that greeted him with casual speech every time.

    “What? For real?”

    “Yeah. Over thirty.”

    “Looks like he just got out of puberty.”

    The one gripping his hair leaned closer in fascination. Disgusted, he raised a hand and shoved his face away.

    “Back off.”

    “Anyway, sorry. Hey. Don’t grab him by the hair. Let go.”

    “Mm.”

    With token apology, he obeyed. Then sniffed his hand like he was savoring the scent left behind.

    A serious creep.

    “Fuck. Smells damn good.”

    “He’s an Omega?”

    “Sanhong? Yeah.”

    “Holy shit! First time seeing a real Omega!”

    “What, you think Omegas are celebrities? What’s so amazing?”

    On the verge of dying from embarrassment, Juyoung wanted to project some weight in front of him, and failed spectacularly. Those pitying eyes made his teeth grind on their own.

    “Fucker. Move, will you? Our Sanhong’s gotta open the door.”

    “Oh. Right.”

    It felt like he’d been called “our Sanhong” more than his own name. The perv, sniffing the scent left on his hand, even smoothed his mussed hair.

    “Hey. I’m an Alpha, you know. Can you smell my pheromones?”

    “My sense of smell isn’t great. Can’t.”

    “Really? My pheromones are insane.”

    He slapped the hand still touching his hair and shot a cold look up at him.

    “What. What’re you gonna do if I stare.”

    “
Tch. When will you idiots grow up.”

    “Ha
 Who asked for a lecture. Hey, we’re here to borrow money. Money. Got it?”

    “Move. You’re spitting.”

    He waved them aside like something dirty. A face twisted, but Juyoung told them to let it go. Inside at last, he threw open all the windows to air the place out.

    He hated letting contamination in at all, but with customers, he couldn’t slam the door in their faces.

    “Why’re you opening windows?”

    “He calls someone every heat to screw. Says he pays them, too.”

    “What? Damn. Sweet. But there’s no chestnut-blossom smell?”

    “You stink like grime.”

    “What?”

    At his toss-off line, a startled Juyoung sniffed himself in a panic.

    “Fuck, told you we should hit the sauna!”

    “What. Didn’t we wash the other day?”

    “Hey. Do we stink that bad?”

    “Revolting.”

    Like catching a whiff of hazardous waste, he grabbed a fabric spray and started dousing the punks.

    Dousing wasn’t the word—he practically drenched them. Unaware it was an insult, they only marveled at the pleasant scent.

    “Smells damn good.”

    “Hey, Sanhong. Get us some drinks.”

    “
Sigh.”

    Like they were ordering in a restaurant—he had no words. Not in the mood to bicker, he took bottled drinks he’d been gifted from the mini-fridge and brought them out.

    And as if five weren’t enough, three more had piled in.

    “I thought this building was a dump, but inside is clean, huh?”

    “Hey. It’s Sanhong hyung. Hello.”

    “
Oh. Hi.”

    Seeing at least one familiar face, he smiled slightly.

    “But is your name really Yeon Sanhong?”

    “Yeah.”

    Whether they used formal speech or not, he decided not to care.

    “Your name’s like a flower garden.”

    “A garden, for sure. Who looks like that around here? You’d barely see it even outside.”

    “Kinda feast for the eyes, isn’t it?”

    They were talking about him, right in front of him. Fine. Carry on.

    “Yeah, garden. But only the face is pretty.”

    “Looks like he’s got the temper we heard about, too
”

    With a fishy grin, Juyoung stared at him, then suddenly said:

    “Hey. What’s a Beta’s dick like? Way different from an Alpha’s?”

    “It’s the same dick—what’s supposed to be different?”

    “Whoa. Listen to him talk.”

    “Get your feet off the couch.”

    Sitting on his expensive sofa wasn’t enough; they’d stepped on it with shoes. The back of his neck throbbed.

    “Fuck. What’s with the couch color? You like eyeball-stabbing shades?”

    “You couldn’t buy that even if you sold your organs.”

    “What?”

    Crossing his legs, he answered with a face full of displeasure. Juyoung scolded him for the joke—but it wasn’t one.

    “So are you planning to get bonded?”

    “Why ask.”

    “No reason
”

    “You don’t even qualify. Why ask?”

    Curiosity was high today. Asked out of nowhere about his bonding, he readjusted his mask with an annoyed face and picked up a broom.

    The air inside bore the damp staleness the punks had dragged in. Feeling the stink and mood stick to his skin, he decided to sweep and air the place. Asked why he was cleaning out of the blue, he didn’t answer—just dusted every corner.

    Then, corralling the heedless punks to the sofa in turn, he started straightening the corridor they’d trashed with the viruses they’d surely carried in.

    “Don’t toss your butts into the noodle broth.”

    “Well, there’s no ashtray.”

    “If there isn’t one, shove it in your mouth.”

    “What’d you say?”

     

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