Chapter 17

Click.

The recessed ambient lighting set into the ceiling flickered on, filling the room with a warm, gentle glow.

Pillows and blankets lay scattered across the floor, along with a pajama set that had been tossed aside. Unlike the owner’s usual habit of keeping everything spotless, the bedroom—revealed under the light—was a complete mess. Yeongung had rushed out the moment the emergency alert sounded, leaving everything in disarray.

Anyone else would have been hung upside down from the top of the tower for this, but because it was Yeongung, Iheun felt no irritation. Filling the small gaps in this man’s clumsy everyday life had become one of his newly-found pleasures.

Ordinarily, an Omega who required so much care and coddling would have been nothing but a nuisance to Iheun—especially an adult Omega who ought to handle the duties of an adult. As such, a partner who wasn’t tidy and needed constant tending had never been his type.

But this man… was the single exception. Imagining anyone else in his place still felt annoying.

“Mmnh…”

Iheun laid the drowsily grumbling Yeongung on the king-sized bed. His eyes caught on the man’s fine, well-shaped features. A loose eyelash had fallen onto Yeongung’s cheek. It looked like it might tickle him awake, and Iheun wanted to brush it off. Not because he particularly wished to touch that soft, down-covered cheek or anything.

“Shouldn’t let something bother him in his sleep.”

Despite the rationalization, his hand drifted not toward the eyelash but toward soft skin.

He poked lightly; the smooth skin yielded and drew his finger in with a soft, dense warmth. His finger was clearly more intrusive to Yeongung’s sleep than the fallen lash, yet Iheun’s hand continued to move on its own, addicted to the sensation.

His fingertip then traced along the man’s slim jawline. For a fully grown adult male to still have baby-fine down on his skin…

Iheun recalled what he’d overheard earlier when he handed his corporate card to Sanghee for the dinner bill.

Among the guild members resting on one side, he had heard murmurs about Yeongung:

“Doesn’t the deputy master feel… kind of melancholy today?”

“Was wondering where our ‘Young-pro’ went. He really did look sorrowful today, huh.”

“I swear! Ahh, do you think he’ll come to the after-party?”

“He usually doesn’t.”

Disappointed, the fanboy had then rhapsodized endlessly about how incredibly precious that melancholy vibe was.

“Hyung…?”

“What.”

“Ease your grip. You’re crushing the card because you don’t wanna hand it over, huh?”

Lost in thoughts about Yeongung, he’d gripped the card without realizing it.

“Who?”

“Ah, it’s Minha. Something wrong?”

‘…Noisy.’

“Is he praising Young-hyung again? He’s famous in the guild for being obsessed. His locker room is plastered with Yeongung pics. Our deputy master’s super popular with the Omegas. I mean, he’s a pretty solid Alpha.”

“We really need to clean the building.”

“Huh? Are you jealous right now? Master Won is popular too! Just… y’know… among people who’d never dream of reaching his level.”

The recollection faded.

Iheun looked down at the man who’d so perfectly fooled the guild.

“Anyone can see he’s an Omega.”

Perhaps people mistook him for an Alpha because of his tall height and big frame. But to Iheun, whether looking straight at him, upside down, or from behind, Yeongung was unmistakably Omega. Without realizing it, the Alpha—blinded by his own infatuation—continued muttering to himself.

“…He makes me hard.”

The moment Yeongung’s arm looped around his neck, Iheun reacted instantly, uncontrollably.

“Far better than trash like Lee Rubin.”

Sanghee had made a whole scene about how such a beautiful Omega had once been with Yeongung; he had demanded to know when Yeongung had secretly met someone like that.

Everyone was blind. Otherwise they were suppressing impure intentions while pretending innocence.

Unlike the fussing guild members, Lee Rubin’s face hardly interested Iheun. What bothered him was how the Omega had only shown himself after the gate had been cleared—too conveniently. Still, as long as he didn’t get in the way, Iheun let him be. They were entangled through family matters, and as long as he didn’t cause trouble, Iheun tended to ignore him.

But while that man fluttered around him, Yeongung had disappeared. Both the disappearing man and the one who distracted him irritated Iheun.

The first clause of the memory-recovery cooperation contract:

“Party A shall accompany Party B in all official duties.”

A clause written by Yeongung himself.

“Weren’t you planning to stalk my daily life under the guise of duty?”

Yet the very man who’d presented such a ridiculous contract wasn’t even following it. He had simply left on his own.

Iheun recalled Yeongung asking why he was helping him.

Accompanying him on official tasks, eating together, sharing a bed—realistically, none of these childish “couple-like” acts would magically restore his memories. And yet, despite thinking so, Iheun still played along.

“Mm…”

Before he knew it, he was straddling Yeongung, leaning down over the whining Omega. He braced himself on either side of Yeongung’s face and inhaled the pheromone seeping from his nape. The sweet scent filled his lungs.

“Haa…”

Iheun’s shoulders trembled. Even with only a small breath, a shiver rolled up from deep within his core. This wasn’t merely a physical reaction.

He had so many blank spaces in his mind, yet he could feel that what he wanted from this man went far beyond the physical.

Iheun wanted to fill in those blank spaces—soon. That was the reason.

But as he had explained earlier, he had one complication to solve: the black parasite inside him. It devoured only memories related to his time with Yeongung—nothing else. It was fixated solely on his memories of this man.

Why only Yeongung?

Iheun found it strange. The systems that assigned weaknesses usually did so around one’s most precious, most emotionally significant person. In other words, because Yeongung was that important to him, such a bothersome burden had manifested.

He had an appointment next week with the foremost expert in the field. As promised, he would recover his memories of him. His determination was far stronger than Yeongung imagined.

“…Not enough.”

His fingers toyed with the perfectly shaped lower lip—just full enough to bite—when Yeongung suddenly shifted. If he woke up now, it would be impossible to deny that Iheun had been about to climb atop a sleeping man. He hurriedly withdrew his hand.

Smack.

But Yeongung caught his retreating fingers and licked them.

“Mm—!”

The red tongue emerging from parted lips eagerly sucked on his long, jointed fingers.

“Creamie, Daddy will clean it for you.”

“…Who the hell is Creamie.”

Iheun’s pupils darkened with jealousy. Yeongung always got mad when Iheun treated him like some promiscuous player, but with the random things he did, who wouldn’t think so?

“How many Alphas have fallen for this act of yours?”

Despite the Alpha’s rebuke, the warm tongue continued its determined work.

“Not coming off easily.”

Slurp… lick.

He dragged his tongue from the base of the finger up to the nail in a long, heated sweep.

“You’re… not actually asleep, are you?”

Meanwhile, in his dream, Yeongung beamed at his unborn child’s affection.

The baby snow leopard nuzzled its soft, trembling ear against Yeongung’s lips. At first it seemed ticklish, but after a while something felt off.

“Creamie, let Daddy see your ear.”

Upon closer inspection, the ear was stained a deep purple.

“Mulberries, huh.”

It must have rolled over fallen mulberries beneath the tree. Creamie was in its hyper-kitten phase—overflowing with curiosity and energy. Male Omegas gave birth faster than females, so thankfully the cub was growing well.

Creamie, after showing off its ear, dabbed a paw with saliva and began cleaning it like a grooming cat. It appeared more bothered by the aesthetic stain than by discomfort.

“My cute baby. Daddy will clean it for you.”

There was no clean water nearby, so, like Creamie, Yeongung used his tongue. It didn’t come off easily, so he sucked harder. The texture of the fur shifted in the middle, but he didn’t think much of it as he focused on removing the stain.

The cub smiled brightly even while Yeongung practically devoured its ear, and the sight melted him. If the baby was this adorable now, how beautiful would it be at birth?

It didn’t match perfectly since he was seeing the cub in its leopard form, but he was certain the baby would resemble Iheun more than himself. Dominant genes were stronger. Remembering the stunning beauty Iheun had been as a teenager—though Iheun insisted it was his “dark era”—made Yeongung hope the child would inherit that brightness, that honesty.

“Of course. It’s true patriotism to pass down such excellent DNA for generations to come.”

He continued cleaning until the purple mulberry stain disappeared completely from Creamie’s pointed little ear.