TCBW C36

Chapter 36

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just… I saw something really fascinating at dawn today.”

“Fascinating?”

“Yeah.”

At those words, Suhoe instinctively thought of gods, spirits, beasts, dragons, and curses — but quickly shook his head, knowing that couldn’t possibly be the case.

“…What was it?”

“Mm… a rich guy!”

“A… rich guy?”

Hearing an unexpected word in this context left Suhoe baffled.

“Yeah. His name’s on TV all the time. Ah, forgot again… the Yongseong eldest son! The one whose younger brother suddenly became the group’s heir‑apparent, and he got a separate company to run — and the moment he took over, it blew up into the No. 1 financial firm in the country.”

“So the amazing part was just that you saw him?”

Suhoe asked like that would make sense.

“No, you know his reputation’s… not so good…”

But the offhand remark about his “not‑so‑good reputation” made Suhoe’s mouth flatten, focusing back on rummaging for his uniform.

Not seeing this expression, Seo‑jun tapped him on the back and repeated the question, assuming he would know the answer.

“Who was it again?”

“I don’t know. Who he is.”

“Huh? You haven’t even heard the rumors?”

Suhoe lowered his head slightly without responding.

“For real? He’s even super handsome — and on top of that, an alpha, extreme‑dominant!”

At that description, Suhoe involuntarily thought of Dowoon, and his cheeks flushed.

“Don’t you want to know what he looks like? I can show you right now.”

Seo‑jun pulled out his phone, but Suhoe shook his head.

“No.”

“Then why’s your face red?”

“It’s… not because of that.”

“Ah, and there are woman‑related rumors too…”

“You don’t need to tell me.”

“Why? Not curious?”

“No.”

Only then did Seo‑jun notice the slight pout of his lips and his bowed head, realizing this meant he simply had no desire to engage in gossip. He smiled sheepishly.

“Well, I’m not that interested either. Honestly, I didn’t even recognize him today. I’m the same about not caring for gossip.”

To change the mood, Seo‑jun lifted his drink toward him.

“…Want to try this? New menu from the company café — it’s pretty good.”

Suhoe eyed the straw with his still‑pouting lips.

Laughing, Seo‑jun almost muttered to himself: “Ah, maybe sharing a straw is too much…”

But when Suhoe unhesitatingly leaned forward to drink from it, he was the one who was startled.

“…You.”

“Hmm… I can’t tell what flavor it is, but there’s something chewy in it.”

Suhoe’s tone was unconcerned — maybe even a bit glazed.

“I don’t like mixing mine… this one’s stirred. Try again; that’s marshmallow inside.”

Realizing belatedly that there’d been no deeper meaning to the act, Seo‑jun chuckled and mixed the drink before offering it back.

Suhoe again leaned in without hesitation, lips pursed softly around the straw.

“Mmm… I like it better like this than before.”

He smiled, his round eyes crescenting, cheeks flushed in pleasant curves.

Seo‑jun found his hand reaching for the corner of the other’s mouth without thinking.

“You’ve got something on you.”

Suhoe didn’t flinch from the touch.

Murmuring, Seo‑jun said, “Don’t know if you’re immune to this kind of thing… or if you know exactly what you’re doing…”

“…”

“Can’t get a read—”

Then he felt the strange heat under his fingertips, and asked tensely:

“You… are you sick?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got a fever.”

“…Oh, now that you mention it.”

Thinking back, from a certain point in their chat — if he was honest, from the moment he’d thought of Dowoon — his face had been heating and his head fogging over.

Even when he’d taken the offered drink, thirst and fuzziness dulled his awareness.

If Seo‑jun hadn’t pointed it out, he might not have realized anything was wrong.

“You’re sure you don’t need to go home?”

“Yeah.”

He asked several more times, but Suhoe wouldn’t relent — though his face was flushed scarlet and his lids heavy, body clearly calling it quits, his mouth kept repeating that he was fine.

Seo‑jun exhaled shortly, lowering his voice.

“Fine. I’ll stand in the hall. Just go in and grab the waste paper box.”

It was the easiest of tasks; he just wanted to send him home quickly.

Relieved, Suhoe nodded and stepped cautiously into the office.

Leaning on the wall, Seo‑jun watched.

Suhoe walked like nothing was wrong, but his heat‑muddled brain didn’t register the location of the paper bin.

Hunching into himself, he hovered uncertainly — until,

“Uh… excuse me, Suhoe?”

From the hall, Seo‑jun saw the struggle and moved to help — but a male office worker reached him first, cheeks tinged pink.

“Ah, um… the pa… paper.”

At the unfamiliar voice, every eye in the room turned toward Suhoe.

Under the weight of all those stares, tension surged into panic. Flustered, he unwittingly released a faint green‑grass scent into the air.

Out in the hall, Seo‑jun felt the subtle smell and started violently.

Wait — is this… his pheromones?

“You okay?”

Unaware, the beta office worker took a tentative step closer.

Seo‑jun darted in, grabbed Suhoe’s shoulder, and pulled him firmly against his body.

Pressed into the larger man’s chest, Suhoe leaned on him, while the beta man awkwardly slunk away.

Dragging him straight into the stairwell, Seo‑jun gripped both of his arms and pressed him.

“You’re leaking pheromones. You know that?”

“What? I… took my suppressant this morning.”

“What? Then why?”

The baffled look on Suhoe’s face had him sighing.

“Just pull it back in.”

If only he could — he’d have done so long ago.

“I… I can’t control my pheromones.”

The admission was bleak: what Seo‑jun was asking was literally impossible.

“What?”

If he was frail, did that mean he also couldn’t manage his pheromone release? Seo‑jun looked at him in exasperation: what was he supposed to do with such a precarious omega?

“You’re going home. Letting you walk around here like this is too dangerous.”

“But—”

“Today, you’re going.”

The voice brooked no choice. An omega unable to control his scent was a liability — even in an office environment, anything could happen.

In the end, Suhoe could only nod.

A cart piled high with waste paper rolled freely over the polished marble floors, slipping between the wide doors into a section of the lobby no regular employees used.

This was the janitors’ route — their private access to quickly move waste from the building.

Pushing the cart, Seo‑jun tossed his bundles into the caged bin for recycling.

Passing by, Gyubeom stopped short, frowning.

“Where’s your partner? Why are you alone?”

“Suhoe wasn’t feeling well — went home.”

“What? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“You were supposed to before he left!”

The chief’s voice was tight with annoyance, but Seo‑jun only shrugged.

“It was urgent. He started leaking pheromones.”

“What?”

Gyubeom’s eyes went wide.

“Thankfully it was a beta office.”

“Still…”

He’d thought it impressive how well Suhoe handled himself despite appearances — maybe thanks to Seo‑jun’s support, or maybe because the kid was sturdier than he looked.

But to be sent home for pheromone release on only his second day? Was he actually as frail as Gyubeom had claimed?

“Huh. Maybe I should make a call…”

The mutter referred to contacting Hae‑eon, who’d arranged the hire — but Seo‑jun, misunderstanding, jumped in to respond.