Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C31

Chapter 31

After feeding, bathing, and preparing the baby for sleep, Yeongung switched off the main bedroom lights and activated the new mobile above the cradle. Soft music chimed from the music box as Tintinping’s popular characters slowly began to turn. Jaehee reached upward, opening and closing his little hands as the dolls spun above him.

“Kyaang—!”

Watching the child delight in the mobile, Won Iheun suddenly lobbed a teasing question.

“Still calling me ji-ji after all this? Hm? Call me again.”

As if he truly understood the man’s words, the baby looked straight at Iheun’s face.

And from the cherubic lips came—

“Ji… ji…!”

Still ji-ji.

“Pft.”

Seeing the notoriously imposing alpha half-leaning on a cradle hardly half his size made Yeongung laugh again. Everything he did these days was unfamiliar—but strangely refreshing.

“Just give up already. I’ll finish putting him to sleep. Ji-ji-ssi, go wait outside.”

“Stubborn little thing—no surprise whose son he is.”

With an amused shrug, Iheun ceded the moment so the father and son could have their time and headed to the kitchen. Since he had gone to the mainland, he had bought ingredients not available on the island—things good for replenishing strength. He had stuffed the fridge with fresh, restorative foods, worried by how little weight Yeongung had regained no matter how much he ate.

He had just reached for the pack of black goat meat when he stilled.

“Sayeong, that sly bastard. So he ‘forgot’ to tell me something, did he.”

No matter how talented Sayeong was, the fact that Yeongung had been taking altered-ability medication for a prolonged period sat uneasily with him. Drugs refined from awakened powers worked quickly—but their side effects varied wildly between users. And Yeongung would have known that, yet still taken them. Which meant, in reverse, that escaping from him had been that desperate a necessity.

Grinding his teeth, he ripped open the vacuum-sealed pack. The image of Sayeong’s smug look—‘Wung hyung trusts me more than the almighty master of the Tako Guild’—flickered through his mind. Iheun imagined the bloody, fish-scented meat as Sayeong himself and hacked into it without mercy.

Thwack, thwack—!

“My warning was too soft.”

Under the razor-sharp cleaver, the tough black-goat meat fell apart in clean chunks.

Just then, Yeongung emerged from the bedroom and lifted a finger to his lips.

“Keep it down a little. Jaehee just fell asleep.”

“…”

There was something called innate bearing. Even disguised in an unremarkable face, the neat lines and distinctive atmosphere that made him who he was could not be hidden.

As he watched that slender finger press against those lips, Iheun thought:

What should be in that mouth is my tongue.

What those pale fingers should be gripping is my cock.

He knew all too well how devastatingly erotic the omega looked when his heated shaft sat in those hands—when Yeongung stroked him with uncertain, clumsy motions that somehow drove him mad.

And with only a moment’s recollection, his body stirred, prodding insistently against the underside of the kitchen island.

“Ahem.”

“…”

“Hey. You’re boring a hole through my face.”

Startled by the devouring stare, Yeongung quickly lowered his hand and leaned to check the meat. The condition of the brutally mutilated chunks made his shoulders shrink.

“You’re… cooking? You chopped it so much it’s all mashed.”

“…I’m making tangsuyuk.”

At the word mashed, the man’s jaw visibly twitched.

“Oh, tangsuyuk. You pounded it so much I thought you were prepping pork cutlets.”

“Stop.”

“Huh…?”

Every time he said mashed—tteok—with that wicked red mouth, Iheun had the nearly irresistible urge to swallow it with his own. But the clear light in Yeongung’s eyes forced him to choose restraint. If he let his selfish hunger take over too early, the omega would bolt again—and he had no intention of letting him escape ever again.

“…Ha. You truly are the only thing in this world I cannot control.”

“That again? Says the most self-absorbed man alive. You really need self-awareness.”

“…Self-awareness is what you need. You have no idea how your smallest actions rattle me.”

Completely oblivious to the black storm inside the alpha’s head, Yeongung hovered fearlessly around him, asking things like, “Smells good. How long until it’s done?”

Iheun forced his body—forever rutting for this one person—to calm. He seasoned the blood-drained meat and began mixing batter.

Quietly, he tossed the black-goat packaging in the trash. If Yeongung knew what meat it was, he wouldn’t eat it.

Soon, the finished tangsuyuk came sizzling hot, steam curling upward.

“Whoa, the smell is insane.”

Mesmerized by the golden batter, Yeongung swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

“Eat.”

“You first. You cooked.”

“Cooks can’t eat freshly made food—smelling it kills your appetite. Don’t worry about me. Just finish everything on that plate. A clean plate is enough.”

“…If you insist, I won’t hold back?”

Instead of answering, Iheun simply placed chopsticks in his hand.

Crunch.

The moment the omega bit in, his eyes widened. The coating shattered like a crisp biscuit; the meat was tender, not a hint of gaminess. And the sauce—

“It’s tangy on purpose. Your elementary-school palate likes it that way.”

“You insulting elementary-school palates? Huh? Stores that conquer kids’ tastebuds always succeed, FYI.”

Once he took the first bite, his chopsticks never stopped. In a blink, the plate was wiped clean. Seeing that, Iheun grabbed the wok, ready to sauté a second batch.

“If you’re not eating, don’t. I’m full.”

At that, Iheun frowned.

“You really do eat less than before. Why?”

“You can’t compare me to when I was clearing gates as a hunter. I naturally ate more to recover lost stamina. Back then you complained I ate too much—now you complain I eat too little?”

With a dry retort, Yeongung stood. Since he’d been fed such good food, the least he could do was clean up. He gathered the dishes and pulled on rubber gloves.

“Why the gloves?”

“To do the dishes. Rest. You must be tired from going to the mainland.”

As if a little mainland trip mattered to a man who hunted monsters on the other side of the planet.

Iheun peeled off the pink floral gloves and swept him off the floor in a princess carry. Embarrassed beyond belief, Yeongung clung to his broad shoulders.

“W-wait—! Won Iheun! Put me down!”

Ignoring the flustered cries, the man sat him neatly on the sofa and pinched the tip of his nose.

“You know how many plates you broke in the penthouse? Sit still.”

“I’m not a kid. How do you think I raised Jaehee alone if I couldn’t even wash dishes?”

“Yes, yes. If you say so.”

In this tiny island apartment, no unit had the luxury of a dishwasher. Efficiently, Iheun wiped off the excess oil, soaked the dishes, and scrubbed them clean.

Elbow on the sofa armrest, Yeongung watched him work.

He even looks good washing dishes.

“Won Iheun… is there anything you can’t do?”

Drying the sink and faucet with a cloth, the man finally turned.

“Well, my baby is clingy—he takes a while to warm up to people. But look at how much he follows you, even if he calls you ji-ji. A father can tell.”

“Clingy… that’s a cute expression.”

Iheun knelt on the floor and took the hand dangling from the sofa’s edge.

“I’ve been studying every day. About the baby. So I can raise him well.”

“Why would you…”

Why would you need to raise Jaehee?

Instinct told him: this was the moment. The one chance to stop circling around the truth.

He bit his bottom lip anxiously, then finally said:

“I… actually have something I’ve been worrying about.”

Their gazes locked—alpha and omega, held tight in a dense silence.

Then, after studying him for a moment, Iheun made a gentle proposal.

“Shower first. Then… want to have a beer with me?”

Footnote

1. Tangsuyuk – A Korean-style sweet-and-sour fried meat dish.