Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C32

Chapter 32

“God… it’s been forever since I’ve had a beer.”

He cracked the can open and took a long pull. The sharp, fizzy bite slid down his throat with a refreshing sting, loosening every tense muscle in him.

A soundly sleeping baby, a freshly showered body, a cold beer—Yeongung was, in that moment, in pure heaven.

If he had to choose one single advantage he’d gained from living with Won Iheun, he would pick—without hesitation—the bliss of being off duty from childcare. His quality of life had soared.

Even Jaehee’s separation anxiety, which had been severe when it was just the two of them, had mysteriously improved once the three of them started living together. He used to refuse to let go of Yeongung’s thumb even after falling asleep, forcing him to stay by his side all night…

He flexed the now-free thumb, curling and stretching it. He had wanted to raise his child independently, and yet… now that the tiny, soft hand that had clung to him like he was the whole world no longer needed to hold on, he felt strangely empty.

“He sticks to me now, sure… but once he grows a little more, he’ll find friends he likes better than his dad.”

A wave of emotion surged up, and he gulped down the beer.

“Ugh… suddenly I’m getting mad.”

Whatever trait Jaehee developed into—Alpha, Beta, or Omega—he would one day fall for someone. And with his looks being nearly a copy of his Alpha father, he was bound to be popular. Painfully so.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega—whoever they are… it won’t be easy taking my baby away.”

The kid couldn’t even talk yet, and this doting fool of a father was already imagining his child’s future wedding, his chest heaving with indignation. Before he knew it, he had downed an entire can. He crushed the empty aluminum with one hand.

“Jaehee… my boy… our… baby…”

He had finally resolved to tell the truth about Jaehee, but courage did not come easily; he kept reaching for another drink.

“Hoo…”

Even so, the tension did not leave him. He tried to steady his hands with deep breaths.

One can. Two cans. Three cans… Aluminum shells began piling up on the coffee table. By then, the alcohol he hadn’t tasted in ages had him flushed and half-lidded.

“Hhhng… what is he doing? Is he taking a bath, not a shower? He went in ages ago. What is this guy doing…”

Right on cue, the bathroom door opened. Steam billowed out. And through it stepped the alpha.

With nothing but a bath towel slung low around his waist.

Water beaded along the carved lines of his abs and slid down the sharp plane of his jaw.

“—Kh, cough, hgh!”

Caught staring, Yeongung choked in surprise.

“Y-you—! Who told you to walk out like that? What are you trying to seduce—”

Iheun took the beer from his hand and cut him off.

“Drink slower. You’re weak to alcohol.”

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Yeongung smacked the floor beside him.

“Ugh, you’ll drip water on the sofa. Sit. Here.”

When the man didn’t move, he slapped his bare waist with his palm—pat, pat. At the insistence, Iheun finally sat on the floor between his knees.

“I’ve said this before—your hands are too unruly.”

Through the damp strands of his hair, the alpha’s deep gaze fixed on the fake face he was wearing. That pale golden-brown irises seemed to pull him in like a vortex. Feeling his defenses crumble, Yeongung quickly tugged down the face towel around the man’s neck, covering his eyes.

He had only covered his eyes—and yet it felt indecent. With a face like his, Iheun was born to provoke desire. Unable to look directly at him, Yeongung focused on towel-drying his hair instead.

“If you don’t dry your hair properly, you’ll catch a cold. Especially when you’re basically naked.”

“I am not naked.”

“Sure, sure. Not naked. Just showing off your lower half with a bath towel. My bad.”

Iheun chuckled low in his throat, the sound warm and amused.

“To your eyes, does my lower half look impressive?”

“Ahem. I-I’m just saying.”

Softly, the man murmured with his eyes closed as the towel moved gently through his hair.

“This isn’t bad.”

Half-asleep from the alcohol, Yeongung blinked heavily and asked,

“Mm? What? Didn’t hear you.”

Iheun leaned close, lips almost brushing his ear.

“That’s the kind of thing that fool duo always got from you. I’m only getting it now.”

The “fool duo”—Sanghee and Hamgyeol—were like younger brothers to Yeongung, and he had always indulged them. Apparently, that had bothered Iheun more than he let on.

Something else surfaced—something Kwon, the secretary, had whispered long ago:

“The fool duo might be clueless, but everyone else knows.”

“Master Won Iheun hates it. Anyone near you. Even if they so much as talk to you, he looks like he’ll kill them.”

So it had been true. Anyone would think… he was jealous. Won Iheun, of all people—jealous over him.

Iheun tapped lightly at the back of his hand, snapping him out of thought.

“They’re just kids,” Yeongung mumbled.

But that answer clearly displeased the alpha. In a single pull, he grabbed his wrist and dragged him down—pulling him straight onto his lap.

“From now on, I want those bad habits reserved for me.”

The alpha pressed the omega’s wrist against the ridge of his nose, studying every twitch of his tense expression as though savoring it.

Yeongung’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst. He feared—truly feared—that Iheun could hear it.

But predators always heard prey clearly. The alpha’s movements were slow, measured, confident.

“With these hands—you don’t touch anyone else.”

He pinned him down and pressed a kiss to the violently thudding artery at his wrist.

“No other man.”

The heat blooming beneath the thin bath towel spread like flame across Yeongung’s skin. His entire body felt like it was boiling; even the alcohol seemed to evaporate.

The high nose that nudged his wrist drifted up his neck. Instinctively, Iheun sought the spots where the omega’s pulse beat most vividly.

“You know… sometimes this sound drives me mad in the sweetest ways. I listen to it while you sleep.”

He pressed his ear to the pulse, eyes closed. Then he looked up, gaze unwavering.

“This sound… is proof you’re alive.”

He pressed light, dotting kisses across his forehead—then ran his fingers along the old scar at the back of his skull.

It must have been from when they were newly partnered in the Tako Guild. Back then, their mismatched styles made cooperation nearly impossible. With even small mistakes costing lives in a gate, their discord had been a dire risk. Eventually, a misread in each other’s intent caused a near-fatal injury—his.

Iheun had blamed himself, and from that day, his stubbornness broke; he adapted, aligning himself with Yeongung’s pace.

As those fingers traced the bumpy scar, goosebumps rose sharply across his skin.

“…”

Iheun stared, puzzled, at the fine hairs standing upright on his face.

And suddenly, everything—everything—clicked for Yeongung. The unease in his chest, the off notes that had been bothering him for months.

His voice dropped cold.

“…Fuck. Your memory is back.”

Iheun froze.

“That scar… only the two of us know it’s there.”

Even confronted, the alpha said nothing.

Yeongung had assumed his obsessive behavior came from the coma, from trauma, from memory loss—people changed after near-death experiences, after all.

But he had been wrong.

Iheun had remembered everything—and still acted like this. Jealousy? Him? The word didn’t belong anywhere near a man like Won Iheun.

“You remember everything—and you’re jealous? You? Won Iheun?”

He laughed, bitterly.

“We’re not… like that. You’re not even that kind of guy. Since when did you start feeding me rotten-sweet lines like your teeth are gonna fall out?”

He knew—knew—that Iheun despised messy family ties. That he didn’t believe in love. The change after the Cataclysm—the amnesia diagnosis—had seemed strange even then. And the man who chased him across the country to Muhaedo felt like a different person altogether.

Yes, he was obsessive when it came to sex. That had always been true. But that was purely biological—an extreme-alpha drive, several times stronger than that of ordinary awakened people. Yeongung had tried his best to meet the man’s needs.

There was a reason he believed Iheun only wanted physical pleasure.

Years ago, he had tried to confess. And Iheun had stopped him.

“Won Iheun, you bastard… I… I… like—”

“Some words are better left unsaid, if they can’t be taken back.”

He hadn’t even been allowed to finish.

Yeongung had pretended it didn’t matter. Pretended he was fine. Pretended he didn’t care if Iheun found someone else.

And now—now he wanted to accept him?

But too much was off. Too much didn’t add up. Even if he did want to accept him now, Yeongung found the shift incomprehensible.

For years, Iheun had ignored feelings he clearly knew existed.

Why now? Because he had his child? He thought of Jaehee—only to dismiss it immediately. The man loathed his own bloodline. For him, fathering a child would never be a reason.

Then why hide the return of his memories?

A sharp headache pulsed behind his eyes.

“You’re the bastard who rejected me first.”

Iheun opened and closed his mouth several times—like someone gagged, unable to speak. Frustration twisted his expression; he struck his own chest once, as if shaking words loose.

Yeongung stared at the bloodshot eyes, waiting.

Time dragged.

Finally—finally—the alpha parted his lips.

“Yeongung… I…”

He never finished.

A sudden cry split the air—the anguished wail of a child.

Startled, Yeongung bolted into the bedroom.

“Baby…!”

Jaehee’s tiny body was burning with fever.