Chapter 18

“No. I don’t wear perfume.”

If any distinct scent was clinging to his body, it was undoubtedly the lingering residue of the expensive aftershave Jo Yeon-oh had stubbornly stocked in Gi-hyeon’s bathroom. However, the Alpha hadn’t switched brands in years.

Hearing the firm denial, an incredibly awkward, tortured expression washed over Cheol-jin’s face as he turned violently red. Clearing his throat with a series of forced, nervous coughs, the young athlete suddenly began shifting uncomfortably in his seat, as if his pants had abruptly shrunk.

Oblivious to the biological implications, Gi-hyeon asked casually, “Are your pants uncomfortable? You’re strictly dieting, so it can’t be weight gain. Did you accidentally buy a size too small?”

“Ah, no, it’s not that…”

Watching the kid’s ears burn a furious, scorching red, Gi-hyeon remained blissfully ignorant as he announced his departure.

“I’m going to run to the restroom, then we can head out.”

“…Already?”

“It’s 9 PM. Your doctor is basically a senior citizen; I have a strict 10 PM bedtime.”

Ignoring Cheol-jin’s flustered protests that they looked practically the same age, Gi-hyeon let out a quiet chuckle. It was endlessly fascinating how athletes who achieved such monumental success at such a young age frequently displayed shocking levels of maturity, yet remained endearingly childish in other aspects. Giving Cheol-jin’s shoulder an affectionate, reassuring pat, Gi-hyeon rose and headed toward the restrooms.

The exact second he stepped into the bathroom, Gi-hyeon froze. A deeply unsettling, distinct sensation of wetness clung to his lower half. Having never experienced anything remotely similar in his entire life, a sharp spike of alarm pierced his chest. Bypassing the urinals entirely, he bolted into a private stall and shoved his pants down.

“…What the hell is this.”

The moment the fabric cleared his thighs, a thick string of highly viscous, transparent mucus stretched downward, a glistening silver thread snapping and slapping wetly against his inner thigh, sending a horrifyingly cold shiver through his nervous system. Utterly paralyzed by shock, Gi-hyeon clamped a hand tightly over his mouth.

“…What the fuck is…”

It was the only pathetic, broken phrase his brain could formulate. Consumed by sheer, unadulterated panic, he couldn’t string together a coherent thought. His body had been feeling feverish and wrong all day, but this was a catastrophic escalation. Frantically yanking his pants back up, Gi-hyeon bolted out of the restroom.

“Oh, Doc…”

“Cheol-jin, an absolute emergency just came up. I have to leave right now.”

“What? What kind of…”

Before Cheol-jin could even finish his sentence, Gi-hyeon had already practically sprinted to the counter, throwing his card down to pay the bill before bolting out the front doors. His mind was spinning in chaotic circles, desperately trying to calculate whether hailing a taxi or sprinting home would be faster. Considering the apartment was remarkably close, running was undeniably the most efficient option.

…Besides, if I sit down in a taxi while leaking like this… The horrifying visual forced Gi-hyeon to violently squeeze his eyes shut. Just as he prepared to sprint, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.

“Doc! You left your phone on the table! And… it’s been ringing non-stop.”

“Oh, uh… Thank you. Cheol-jin, I’ll contact you later. Head straight home. And make sure you ice your shoulder after your workouts.”

Even amidst a total biological meltdown, the ingrained instincts of a dedicated therapist forced him to frantically deliver his final medical instructions, remembering the slight inflammation he had noted earlier. Snatching the vibrating phone from Cheol-jin’s grasp, Gi-hyeon spun around and fled. He knew full well the kid would find his erratic, panicked behavior incredibly suspicious, but the sheer horror of his current reality completely paralyzed his ability to care.

Why the hell is this coming out of me?!

As he practically sprinted down the sidewalk, another hot, viscous rush of fluid violently spilled from him. Given the anatomical structure of the male body, sweating could easily soak the pelvic region or the upper thighs, but a torrential downpour originating directly between the legs—specifically localized to the exact center—was a biological impossibility.

Furthermore, producing a volume of fluid massive enough to completely soak through his underwear… If it were a severe internal infection, it would undoubtedly be laced with blood or pus, but this… this looked exactly like arousal fluid, like slick… His face drained of all color, turning a sickly, deathly pale. Completely oblivious to the agonizing throbbing radiating from his shattered ankle, Gi-hyeon broke into a desperate sprint toward his apartment.

“Hah, gasp—”

Thanks to the frantic, adrenaline-fueled sprint, he reached his apartment complex in record time, but the violent exertion left him completely winded, his hands braced on his knees as he desperately gasped for oxygen. Just as he dragged himself toward the lobby doors, someone passing behind him muttered in confusion.

“What is that smell…”

Smell…

Telling himself it had absolutely nothing to do with him, Gi-hyeon shoved the lobby doors open and practically threw himself into the elevator. The second he stepped out onto his floor and reached for the digital lock, Gi-hyeon looked down and realized his hands were shaking violently.

Smell. Scent…

In truth, Gi-hyeon hadn’t been able to shake the deeply unsettling suspicion that a bizarre, intoxicating fragrance had been wafting off his own body for the past twenty minutes. It was a heavy, suffocating scent—reminiscent of rich vanilla—so potent it felt as though he had literally drowned in a vat of perfume, only for it to abruptly vanish entirely, leaving absolutely zero trace behind.

He was terrified of what it meant.

Throwing his front door open, Gi-hyeon violently kicked his sneakers off and began ripping his clothes off with every frantic step he took toward the bathroom. By the time he crossed the threshold, he was wearing nothing but his jeans and the soaked underwear beneath.

“Ah, fuck…”

The moment he shoved his jeans down, the horrifying reality was confirmed: a distinct, dark circle of moisture had completely soaked through the heavy denim right at the base of his ass. The violent curse tore from his throat involuntarily. Desperate to identify the mysterious fluid, he tentatively touched the damp fabric. The sheer, repulsive slickness of it sent a violent, full-body shudder ripping through him.

He suspected this horrifying fluid was the epicenter of the bizarre vanilla scent he had been smelling. But why the hell was his body producing such a scent? It was an anomaly just as terrifying and incomprehensible as the fluid violently pouring out of him.

Stripping off the ruined jeans and underwear, Gi-hyeon threw them into the sink, frantically scrubbing the contaminated crotch with cold water before tossing them into the laundry basket. He immediately stepped into the shower stall. He had initially assumed the slickness was confined solely between his legs, but the horrifying reality was that the heavy, viscous fluid had completely coated the entire cleft of his ass.

“What kind of fucking nightmare is this…”

Grinding his molars together so hard his jaw ached, Gi-hyeon ruthlessly suffocated the string of violent curses threatening to erupt. Standing directly beneath the scalding cascade of water, he repeatedly, frantically scrubbed between his legs with his bare hands until his skin burned bright red. Pumping a massive glob of body wash onto a loofah, he aggressively scoured every inch of his body. Only after aggressively shampooing his hair did he finally wrap a towel around his waist and step out of the steam.

“…”

The absolute, terrifying ignorance of what the hell that fluid actually was plunged him into a suffocating pit of despair. …Do I have some kind of terminal, rotting disease? Yet, frantically scanning every single textbook he had ever memorized on human physiology, pathology, and anatomy, there was absolutely zero record of a male disease that caused viscous, transparent slick to violently pour from the rear.

If a licensed healthcare professional with a Bachelor of Science couldn’t even conceptualize the symptoms, it had to be a horrifyingly rare, undocumented pathology. He resolved to immediately book an emergency appointment at a major university hospital. The terrifying issue was, he had absolutely no idea which specialized medical department to even call.

Vigorously towel-drying his hair, Gi-hyeon pulled on a fresh pair of boxer briefs, releasing a heavy, shuddering sigh. Just then, the sharp chirp of the digital lock echoed through the apartment, followed by the heavy swing of the front door. Knowing with absolute certainty that the intruder was Jo Yeon-oh, Gi-hyeon didn’t even bother asking if it was him, silently pulling on a pair of sweatpants.

Yeon-oh’s voice echoed from the entryway.

“What the hell is wrong with the state of this house? Someone makes the absolute mess, and someone else is always forced to clean it up.”

The tone wasn’t genuinely angry; it was just the standard, nagging grumble of an Alpha who treated Gi-hyeon’s apartment like his own personal kingdom. The rustling sounds indicated the bastard was currently meticulously organizing the shoes Gi-hyeon had violently kicked off in his panic.

“And why the hell did you leave your clothes scattered everywhere like…”

Listening to the Alpha’s footsteps approaching the living room, Gi-hyeon walked into the kitchen to grab a drink of water. Just as he cracked the cap off a water bottle and lifted it to his lips, Yeon-oh froze, staring at him with terrifying, predatory intensity. Because the only lights currently illuminated were in the kitchen and the bathroom, the living room remained bathed in deep shadows, obscuring the exact expression on the Alpha’s face.

Wondering what the hell the bastard was staring at, Gi-hyeon prepared to ask, but the motion-sensor light in the entryway suddenly timed out, plunging the space where Yeon-oh stood into absolute, suffocating darkness.

From the black void, Yeon-oh’s voice dropped into a terrifyingly low, menacing octave.

“Did you bring an Omega into this house?”

Utterly baffled by the psychotic accusation, Gi-hyeon stared blankly at the shadows, slowly twisting the cap back onto his water bottle. The question was so violently out of left field that his brain could only conjure one singular, absurd association. He answered instinctively.

“Omega-3?”

“Stop fucking around.”

Refusing to even look in Gi-hyeon’s direction, Jo Yeon-oh let out an aggressive scoff and immediately began violently searching the apartment. Since the Alpha was notoriously obsessed with sanitizing his hands the second he returned home, Gi-hyeon naturally assumed he was heading to the bathroom to wash up. Instead, Yeon-oh merely glared menacingly into the pristine bathroom before violently pivoting, marching straight toward the master bedroom and throwing the door open.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Treating Gi-hyeon’s question like atmospheric white noise, Jo Yeon-oh immediately bypassed the bedroom and stormed into the walk-in closet. Stomping aggressively inside, he began violently yanking open wardrobes and storage compartments. Finding nothing, he marched back out and aggressively threw open the door to Gi-hyeon’s study. Confused and deeply annoyed, Gi-hyeon stood frozen in the kitchen. Finally concluding his psychotic sweep, Jo Yeon-oh halted dead in the center of the living room. Placing his hands aggressively on his hips, the Alpha snarled.

“I explicitly told you I would handle it. I explicitly told you to go strictly through me. Are you completely deaf?”

“Yeah. I literally cannot understand a single fucking word you’re saying. What the hell are you talking about?”

Shoving the water bottle back into the refrigerator, Gi-hyeon stared at him with profound, unadulterated bewilderment. Jo Yeon-oh was scowling fiercely, radiating the violent, explosive aura of a man pushed to his absolute limit. Gi-hyeon genuinely couldn’t fathom what had triggered the psychotic episode.

“…What time did you clock out.”

“Just now. I grabbed dinner with Cheol-jin and came straight home.”

“Park Cheol-jin? The Alpha? 400-meter freestyle?”

Mildly impressed that the bastard had memorized the athlete’s specific event and secondary gender, Gi-hyeon nodded.

Jo Yeon-oh stared at him with burning, terrifying intensity. His gaze violently raked over Gi-hyeon’s damp, freshly washed hair and lingered aggressively on his starkly pale, completely bare chest. Only then did the horrifying realization strike Gi-hyeon: he had walked out of the bathroom wearing absolutely nothing but sweatpants.

While years of rigorous military conditioning and his physically demanding career as a therapist had forged a heavily muscled, perfectly toned physique, Gi-hyeon possessed absolutely zero immunity to being openly, aggressively visually devoured by another man.

Furthermore, the sheer intensity of the Alpha’s gaze was utterly baffling. Gi-hyeon knew with absolute certainty that Jo Yeon-oh felt absolutely zero sexual attraction toward his naked body, yet conversely, the bastard had never, ever stared at him with such terrifying, predatory hunger before. Deeply unsettled, Gi-hyeon quickly grabbed the damp towel draped around his neck and turned his back.

“Why the hell did you eat with him?”

Even as Gi-hyeon retreated toward the walk-in closet, the heavy, suffocating weight of Jo Yeon-oh’s glare remained violently glued to his bare back. …Why the hell is he staring at me so obsessively today? What is wrong with him? Unnerved by the scrutiny, his answer was delayed. Impatient, Yeon-oh relentlessly stalked him all the way to the closet threshold, continuing his interrogation.

“Did you meet him privately outside the hospital?”

Releasing a small, exhausted sigh, Gi-hyeon yanked open a dresser drawer, pulled out a random t-shirt, and finally covered his chest before answering.

“No. Cheol-jin came directly to the hospital, and we left together.”

“I thought his treatment was completely finished.”

Did I ever even mention that to him? Tilting his head in mild confusion over the Alpha’s terrifyingly encyclopedic knowledge of his patients, Gi-hyeon offered a dismissive reply.

“Sometimes athletes drop by with drinks just to say thank you.”

“A current national team athlete, a summer competitor who’s literally about to enter the peak of his training season, just ‘dropped by’ entirely on his own two feet? Just to say hello?”

“He’s a polite kid, he probably just wanted to repay the favor. More importantly, aren’t you going to wash your hands? You obsessively scrub them the second you walk through the door every single day.”

Yawning heavily, Gi-hyeon casually brushed past the Alpha. After his aggressive scrubbing in the shower, the terrifying slick had blessedly ceased leaking. While he absolutely still needed to book a comprehensive medical examination, the immediate crisis seemed to have passed, leaving his body completely drained of adrenaline and profoundly lethargic. He had only consumed a single bottle of beer, so he wasn’t drunk; the absolute, crushing fatigue of the chaotic day was simply catching up to him. Dragging his feet toward the living room, he collapsed heavily onto the sofa.

Realizing Gi-hyeon had completely stonewalled the interrogation, Jo Yeon-oh silently hung his suit jacket in the closet and finally headed to the bathroom. Moments later, the rhythmic drumming of the shower echoed through the apartment.

Deciding to capitalize on the Alpha’s distraction, Gi-hyeon immediately retreated to the master bedroom and crawled under the covers. It was exactly 10 PM. Just as he had joked to Cheol-jin, an aging corporate slave absolutely needed to be unconscious by this hour. His sole, desperate objective was to fall asleep before Jo Yeon-oh finished showering and resumed his psychotic nagging.

He briefly considered plugging in his phone, but having likely dropped it haphazardly while frantically tearing his clothes off earlier, he had no idea where it was. Despite usually requiring a lot of sleep, his deeply ingrained military conditioning guaranteed he would wake up precisely on time without an alarm anyway. Concluding that leaving his phone uncharged for a single night wouldn’t trigger the apocalypse, Gi-hyeon simply let his heavy eyelids slide shut.

The rhythmic, soothing sound of the shower continued echoing from the bathroom. Gi-hyeon willingly surrendered himself to the dark, heavy tide of sleep washing over his exhausted body. He was teetering perfectly on the razor-thin precipice of deep unconsciousness.

The sharp click of the bathroom door unlocking signaled Yeon-oh’s exit. Desperate to escape the impending interaction, Gi-hyeon ruthlessly forced his fading consciousness deeper into the void, his awareness ebbing and flowing like a receding tide.

A heavy presence approached the side of the bed. A hand gently brushed against Gi-hyeon’s hair. The fingers lightly ghosted over the damp strands before retreating.

“Sleeping without drying your hair again.”

The voice was pitched incredibly low, laced with a faint, unmistakable trace of fond amusement. A soft rustling echoed in the darkness as the presence shifted toward the nightstand. A sharp, electronic ding pierced the silence. Jo Yeon-oh had evidently hunted down his phone and placed it on the wireless charging dock for him.

“…”

The Alpha stood over the nightstand in absolute silence for a long time. Willingly succumbing to the suffocating exhaustion, Gi-hyeon finally plunged completely into the depths of sleep. Sinking deeper, and deeper, until the world finally faded to black.

***