"Simple is good."
Kang Se-heon watched him with an amused gaze. As if fully intending to go along with Tae-seo’s plan, he deliberately rose from his seat. Tae-seo suddenly recalled running into Kang In-hyuk yesterday. Back then, he had thought In-hyuk was big, but Se-heon was even bigger—he was realizing that again now.
His height and broad frame made his presence all the more overwhelming.
"That just makes me even more curious."
Kang Se-heon hooked his index finger under his tie and shook it side to side. That small movement made Tae-seo's heart plummet.
"So, do I handle the rest however I want?"
Se-heon asked with a smirk. If he didn’t clarify what he meant, it was clear that smirk would take on a dangerously ambiguous meaning.
Feeling like he had made a reckless move that might end up shaking him, Tae-seo hurriedly raised both hands.
"I give up. I won’t play those kinds of pranks anymore."
"No, don’t call it a prank."
"Then you should stop pulling down your tie. It’s scary."
At Tae-seo’s groan of distress, Se-heon finally stopped messing around and tousled his hair. No matter how much Tae-seo struggled, there was no surpassing Kang Se-heon—that much was clear.
"And yet you’re the one with a baby."
The subtle teasing in Se-heon’s voice had softened considerably. Tae-seo glanced up at him.
A moment ago, they had been exchanging lighthearted banter, but that might not be the case forever.
Truthfully, he wanted to find out.
"I have something to ask you."
Tae-seo set down his mug and turned fully toward Se-heon. Just as Se-heon had shifted to a calmer tone, Tae-seo also rid his expression of any playfulness and fixed his gaze on him.
"All the meals we’ve had together until now—what were they?"
Tae-seo wanted to define exactly what had been happening between them. Se-heon had been showing up at the end of his classes, eating meals with him, drinking coffee together. Driving him home was a given, and there were countless mornings when his phone had died because they had talked all night.
For two people who were supposedly nothing to each other, they were far too close.
"Was that dating? But we’re not actually dating, are we?"
Se-heon’s usual smile faded. His brows knit together slightly. Tae-seo’s words pricked at something inside him.
"I wanted to have meals with you. I wanted to spend time with you. I just followed my feelings."
"Then what are we?"
With that one question, the lighthearted atmosphere vanished, replaced with the precarious tension of a glass perched at the edge of a table—ready to fall, shatter, and scatter shards everywhere.
"In the beginning, you told me not to assign any meaning to the fact that we slept together. And yet, here we are now."
Maybe that had been the cause of it all.
Even though Se-heon’s actions had clearly crossed lines after that, Tae-seo had never tried to define their relationship. It was because he had remembered what Se-heon had said.
But they had come this far.
Tae-seo was someone who knew the passcode to Se-heon’s house. He had met his parents.
"Tae-seo."
Se-heon pressed his fingers to his temple, as if the weight of the conversation was giving him a headache. It was obvious he had never really thought about this before.
Until now, everything had been fine, but suddenly, it felt as if all their time together was being denied. His voice lowered, subdued by the weight of it.
The one to break the tense silence was Tae-seo.
He abruptly stood, and for a brief moment, Se-heon had the impulse to grab him—to keep him from leaving.
But something told him he shouldn’t.
The undefined nature of their relationship made him hesitate.
"Where are you going?"
"Just... give me a moment."
Tae-seo signaled for time. It seemed like he needed to be alone.
After Tae-seo left, Se-heon remained by himself. The uneasy feeling of having a serious conversation suddenly cut off left him sinking into the couch.
He hadn’t expected Tae-seo to think about things like this.
A furrow remained etched between Se-heon’s brows.
"I’ve been treating Yoon Tae-seo like a kid."
A frustration that seemed to boil from the pit of his stomach made him grip his tie again.
Even though he knew full well that the feeling tightening around his throat had nothing to do with the fabric.
How should he console Tae-seo?
If Tae-seo insisted that they go back to being nothing but two people sharing a baby, how was he supposed to refuse?
Se-heon had no intention of letting him go.
While he was lost in thought, Tae-seo returned.
"I think we need to talk."
Se-heon lifted his head at the sound of Tae-seo’s voice—and involuntarily, he let out a chuckle.
Tae-seo was walking toward him with his hands behind his back, his face as serious as before. But as he walked, there was a faint rustling sound following him.
Had he stuck something noisy to his backside?
It had been such a serious moment just a second ago, but for some reason, that small sound made Se-heon laugh.
Tae-seo stood in front of him, his eyes holding the same determination—but something about them had changed.
There was a quiet resolution there now.
"So, I’ve thought about it a lot."
He took a deep breath.
"I think... it’s about time we define what we are, don’t you?"
Then, Tae-seo held out a bouquet.
He had practiced this moment countless times in his head. But actually speaking the words aloud—this was the first time.
His heart pounded so hard it felt like his throat was closing up.
Would the words even come out right?
Tae-seo swallowed dryly and met Se-heon’s eyes.
He hadn’t even gotten to the confession yet, but his breath was already short, his voice starting to waver.
He closed his mouth for a moment, trying to calm himself.
Only now did he realize—confessing was this nerve-wracking. This terrifying.
Then, finally, the words left his lips.
"Please be my lover."
Tae-seo hadn’t spent much time trying to figure out his own feelings.
It had only been recently—when he started wondering what kind of relationship he really wanted with Kang Se-heon—that he had begun to truly look inside himself.
Se-heon was someone Tae-seo trusted and relied on. But it wasn’t the same as depending on his parents.
Whenever his soul felt like it was drifting in this world, Se-heon was the one who anchored him.
A single word from him could bring comfort.
When they were together, everything felt steady.
And yet, Tae-seo had never thought deeply about what those feelings actually meant.
He had simply accepted the presence of Kang Se-heon as a natural part of his life.
That was how it all began.
Seeing the drizzle fall, Tae-seo had stepped outside, letting the raindrops slowly soak into his clothes. He waited for his clothes to be completely drenched, feeling each drop as it seeped in. His feelings for Kang Se-heon were exactly like that.
Se-heon hadn’t left a strong first impression on him. Instead, he had quietly seeped into his life, little by little.
To put it simply—Tae-seo liked Kang Se-heon.
Realizing that was just like when he had first recognized the scent he liked so much as Se-heon’s pheromones.
It had just been an acknowledgment. Oh, so that’s what it is.
That was all.
So, he had thought confessing would be easy.
I like you. Should we date?
All he had to do was say those words.
But now, his heart was hammering in his chest as if mocking him for thinking it would be that simple.
"So, I want to be in a relationship with you."
"I want to call the time we spend together 'dating,' and I want to proudly tell everyone that I’m your lover."
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Tae-seo voiced his wish.
"I want to confidently say I have a boyfriend. If that’s okay with you, then please accept my bouquet."
Se-heon looked down at the bouquet being offered to him.
It wasn’t big or extravagant. The wrapping around it was puffed up, making it look fuller than it actually was. But there was only one type of flower, and not even that many of them.
Because he only had one thing he wanted to say.
Please accept my confession.
Tae-seo had expressed his feelings exactly as they were—through the flowers in his hands.
Se-heon took the bouquet. At the same time, he pulled Tae-seo into his arms, wrapping an arm around his waist.
For the first time, the composed look in Se-heon’s eyes shifted—desire flickered there.
"Then that means I can kiss you, right?"
Se-heon didn’t wait for an answer.
Tae-seo barely had time to part his lips to say something before Se-heon’s lips captured his.
Se-heon sucked lightly on his lower lip, then slipped his tongue out to taste him. Tae-seo’s eyes slowly fluttered shut.
Whatever he had been about to say no longer mattered.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was the kiss he was sharing with Se-heon.
He hadn’t even gotten a proper response to his confession.
Was it okay to be kissing like this?
As if reading his thoughts, Se-heon murmured against his lips.
"We’re lovers now, aren’t we?"
❖
Seo Da-rae frowned in frustration as «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» he scrolled through search results on his phone.
No matter how much he looked, he couldn’t find the answer he wanted.
"He became an Omega—so why didn’t I notice?"
That was what was bothering him the most.
Seo Da-rae was an Omega himself. If Tae-seo had manifested, he should have been able to sense the pheromones coming from him.
And yet, from Yoon Tae-seo—he had felt nothing.
Did he deliberately suppress them?
That didn’t make sense.
Newly manifested Omegas weren’t usually able to control their pheromones well. It took time to learn how to regulate them.
Even during that period, Tae-seo had continued attending school without issue.
"No... that’s not it."
It didn’t feel like he was forcing them down.
Da-rae’s instincts told him something wasn’t right.
Tae-seo had wanted to become an Omega.
The way he had treated Da-rae before—resenting him, lashing out—wasn’t just because he was jealous of his connection with Kang In-hyuk.
It was because he was frustrated that he hadn’t manifested himself.
"Then how the hell did he manage to hide his pheromones?"
The question spun endlessly in Da-rae’s mind, refusing to settle.