Chapter 77

“He exchanged every single button he had. There wasn’t a single one left…”

Gi-hyeon wasn’t just surprised by the content of the bank teller’s report; he was shocked the man had spoken voluntarily. Tightening his crossed arms, Gi-hyeon watched Jo Yeon-oh, who was currently slapping the table and cackling like a maniac.

The battlefield Yeon-oh had just conquered was a high-stakes hwatu game. Just thirty minutes ago, he had been playing poker, aggressively sweeping the entire table. He had unceremoniously dumped his mountain of plastic button chips into a plastic bucket Jisu had fetched for him, not even bothering to pick up the strays that rolled off the table, casually dismissing them as pocket change for the peasants.

When a rogue button rolled to a stop right at Gi-hyeon’s feet, the local deer farmer who had been desperately chasing it let out an “Oops.” Gi-hyeon casually shifted his sandal out of the way, and the older man scrambled to snatch it up. Perhaps realizing how utterly pathetic it looked for a man of his age to be crawling on his knees for a plastic chip in front of Gi-hyeon, the farmer offered a sheepish, defensive grin.

“Wow, that young friend of yours has some serious guts. Whenever he wins big, he just hands half the pot right back.”

That was the exact reason Yeon-oh, despite showing up out of nowhere and mercilessly steamrolling the locals, hadn’t provoked a riot. Every time he magnanimously refunded a portion of his winnings, he attached a single, non-negotiable condition: an absolute ban on indoor smoking. Thanks to that decree, even the deer farmer was reduced to merely tucking an unlit cigarette behind his ear.

Gi-hyeon shook his head in profound disbelief. As the desperate gamblers swarmed the counter to cash out their refunded chips, Jisu, too busy counting the massive influx of cash, was cackling just as loudly as Yeon-oh.

When Gi-hyeon shot Jisu an exasperated glare, the Captain instantly wiped the grin off his face, adopting an expression of deadpan seriousness.

“Don’t worry. I absolutely won’t rent him that room. You know my loyalty is ironclad, Soso.”

“I don’t know shit about your loyalty, sir,” Gi-hyeon replied dryly, turning his head to deliberately ignore Jisu’s exaggerated wink.

Yeon-oh, the architect of the indoor smoking ban, was ironically idling with an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers, casually rolling it back and forth. The unlit filter was already mangled.

Gi-hyeon scrutinized Yeon-oh every time the bastard laughed.

It was the specific, calculated laugh he used whenever he was actively hiding something. Gi-hyeon debated demanding exactly what sinister plot he was currently brewing but ultimately decided against it. Nodding a brief farewell to the bank teller, Gi-hyeon grabbed his scooter keys. Deliberately giving Yeon-oh’s table a wide berth, he headed straight for the exit.

Gripping the edge of the table and kicking his chair back, Yeon-oh yelled out, “What, you clocking out already?”

Tilting his head in mock confusion, Yeon-oh shoved the bucket overflowing with chips into Jisu’s chest, loudly declaring he would be back tomorrow, and began trailing after Gi-hyeon. What do you mean, you’ll be back tomorrow? Gi-hyeon thought, thoroughly disgusted.

However, Gi-hyeon offered zero verbal pushback, simply continuing his march toward the door. He could hear Yeon-oh’s footsteps shadowing him. He didn’t bother scolding the man; he had already made a decision.

Ignoring his stalker, Gi-hyeon reached for the door, only for Yeon-oh’s voice to halt him.

“Whoa, hold on a second. This is a service I must provide.”

What kind of bullshit is this? Gi-hyeon looked over, his energy draining instantly at the sight of Yeon-oh’s blatantly mocking expression. With an obnoxiously exaggerated flourish, Yeon-oh threw the door open, stepped outside first, and popped open the black lace parasol, ceremoniously holding it over Gi-hyeon’s head. The entire sequence was saturated with Yeon-oh’s trademark, infuriatingly playful arrogance.

It was completely absurd.

Staring at him, Gi-hyeon stated the facts plainly.

“The Captain told me he wasn’t going to rent you that room.”

“Yeah. And they’re totally conspiring against me, right? Even when I hit up the local real estate agent, they swore there were absolutely zero vacancies anywhere near where you’re staying. Is that bastard the mafia boss of this neighborhood or something?”

Shooting a glacial glare back inside, Yeon-oh scowled at Jisu. Sensing the murderous intent, Jisu glanced over, flashed a bright smile, and casually waved.

When Gi-hyeon had asked if Yeon-oh planned to stay long, the bastard had apparently taken it literally and immediately started hunting for a lease. Manager Yoo had undoubtedly spearheaded the actual logistics, but seeing Yeon-oh standing there with a deeply offended frown, bitching about the locals being unwelcoming, was so spectacularly shameless it dragged a heavy sigh from Gi-hyeon.

…In the end, So Gi-hyeon surrendered. 

He had fled to the absolute edge of the country, and the bastard had still tracked him down; pulling off a second vanishing act felt mathematically impossible. Given Yeon-oh’s psychotic tenacity, even if he didn’t show it outwardly, he was undoubtedly grinding his teeth, vowing to never, ever let Gi-hyeon slip out of his sight again.

Staring intensely at Yeon-oh, Gi-hyeon finalized his resolve. He had no idea what catastrophic fallout this decision would trigger between them, but starting today, he had a new, singular objective. If this is what you really want, if you’re so fucking desperate for this ‘friendship,’ then fine. The fastest way out of this might just be staying right by your side until you get absolutely sick of me.

Gi-hyeon intended to actively induce Yeon-oh’s disgust. He would accept the pheromones if Yeon-oh offered them. He wouldn’t reject Yeon-oh’s favors. He wouldn’t refuse his kindness. He wouldn’t deny his twisted affection. He would force Jo Yeon-oh to endure him until the bastard couldn’t stomach it for another second. …If I do that, maybe your profound, undying ‘friendship’ will finally shatter.

Sensing Gi-hyeon’s intense scrutiny, Yeon-oh, who was still glaring daggers at Jisu through the open door, whipped his head around, his eyes widening in manufactured surprise. Ignoring the performance, Gi-hyeon brushed past him, intending to leave the premises entirely. Yeon-oh instantly snagged his wrist.

“What.”

“You…”

Instead of answering, Yeon-oh just stared at him with piercing intensity. The shrill, trilling chirp of a grass bug drifted through the air, drawing Gi-hyeon’s attention. It was a nocturnal insect; why the hell was it desperately crying out for a mate in the blistering midday heat? That pitiful, purposeless wailing briefly tugged at Gi-hyeon’s empathy before instantly evaporating.

“Let go, it’s hot.”

Yanking his wrist free, Gi-hyeon walked ahead. The sun was brutally intense, yet the shadow of the lace parasol silently materialized above him, shielding the crown of his head from the heat.

…Terrified of reaching a catastrophic breaking point, Gi-hyeon had run away. But today, he finally decided to engineer the end of their relationship himself. Yeon-oh’s affection was blindingly intense. Like the sun violently beating down from above, it seemed determined to eradicate every single shadow, leaving absolutely no place to hide.

The sheer, suffocating heat of it made Gi-hyeon dizzy.

***

From that day forward, Gi-hyeon actively stopped pushing Yeon-oh away. Even when Yeon-oh, complaining about the lack of available rentals, unceremoniously invaded Gi-hyeon’s tiny apartment, Gi-hyeon didn’t explode in anger, nor did he kick him out.

“It’s a fucking pigsty…”

Granted, hearing Yeon-oh quietly mutter that insult while meticulously scanning every corner of the room definitely spiked Gi-hyeon’s blood pressure.

Regardless, the staggeringly shameless Jo Yeon-oh interpreted Gi-hyeon’s silence as a formal invitation and instantly moved in. The apartment, which felt cozy—perhaps slightly cramped—for a single man, felt claustrophobically tiny once a man standing over 190 centimeters tall occupied the space. It felt like the walls were bursting. Yet, Gi-hyeon swallowed his frustration.

He maintained that same silent endurance even when the brazen intruder crawled into his bed, wrapped a massive arm around his waist, and fell asleep. Yeon-oh would fold his broad shoulders inward, plastering himself against Gi-hyeon’s side, and sleep remarkably well.

Likely due to his pregnancy, Yeon-oh’s pheromones acted as a hyper-potent tranquilizer on Gi-hyeon’s nervous system, guaranteeing him incredibly deep, restorative sleep as well. However, only Yeon-oh achieved a state of slumber so profound that he couldn’t be roused even when actively shaken.

Thinking about it, Gi-hyeon realized how miraculous it was that a man cursed with such severe, chronic insomnia had managed to survive without him for so long.

During the first few nights, whenever Gi-hyeon tried to slip out of bed at dawn for a glass of water, that heavy arm would instantly lock onto him, dragging him right back down into the mattress. After repeating the exhausting struggle multiple times, Gi-hyeon simply surrendered, letting Yeon-oh sleep like the dead. Trying to reason with a bastard who refused to listen was just too tedious.

The Jo Yeon-oh who used to wake up impeccably groomed in Seoul, immediately launching into a barrage of nagging complaints, had completely vanished. In his place was a man with chaotic bedhead, casually chopping up lettuce Jisu had scavenged to make a fresh salad. While they had occasionally fallen asleep in the same bed back in Seoul, Yeon-oh had always maintained a crisp, pristine appearance in the mornings, starkly contrasting Gi-hyeon’s mild hypotension-induced sluggishness.

This heavily relaxed, domesticated version of Yeon-oh was highly uncharacteristic.

Struggling to pry open eyes heavily glued shut with sleep, his face slightly puffy, Gi-hyeon would let out a low sigh as he watched Yeon-oh nonchalantly scoop rice for breakfast.

“What about the gallery? Can you really just stay here?” Gi-hyeon asked one morning.

Having completed his sole chore of placing the utensils on the table Yeon-oh had prepared, Gi-hyeon picked up a braised shishito pepper with his chopsticks. Instead of picking up his spoon, Yeon-oh poured a glass of cold barley tea and chugged it aggressively, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply with every massive gulp.

“This hyung will handle everything. Let’s just convalesce down here a bit longer before heading back.”

He mumbled the response, his lips still slick with water, clearly half-asleep. According to intel Manager Yoo had inadvertently dropped while dropping off clothes, Yeon-oh hadn’t slept a single wink in Seoul. Knowing that, watching Yeon-oh parade around every morning with the deeply satisfied, slightly dopey face of a man who had just enjoyed ten hours of uninterrupted, coma-like sleep was bizarrely annoying.

Regardless, thanks to Yeon-oh playing house, the dining table was exclusively stocked with Gi-hyeon’s favorite foods. Furthermore, constant exposure to Yeon-oh’s pheromones had completely eradicated Gi-hyeon’s anemia and dizzy spells, vastly improving his overall physical condition by the day.

With his previous anxieties neutralized and his emotional strategy locked in place, the fact that Yeon-oh constantly clung to him didn’t trigger any immediate, panicked sexual arousal. Because he was finally sleeping peacefully while wrapped in Yeon-oh’s arms, Gi-hyeon’s face was even beginning to look healthy and full.

Once breakfast concluded, their routine involved one man claiming the kitchen sink and the other the bathroom to brush their teeth and wash their faces before leaving the house. Yeon-oh would slide into the luxury sedan haphazardly parked next to the villa and head to a cafe in town to tackle urgent gallery business with Manager Yoo, while Gi-hyeon’s morning routine involved firing up the scooter and heading to the gambling den.

Of course, the daily commute remained a battlefield.

“Take my car. Don’t even think about riding that piece of garbage.”

“You take it.”

“I’m going to smash that rusty exhaust pipe to pieces, maybe then you’ll listen.”

Yeon-oh relentlessly threatened him to abandon the scooter. Riding together was too much of a hassle, and the constant nagging over a simple commute was infuriating.

Whenever Gi-hyeon tried to start the engine, Yeon-oh would aggressively clamp his hand down on the brake lever, physically preventing him from moving. Defeated, Gi-hyeon would hang his helmet back on the hook with a heavy sigh and climb into Yeon-oh’s Italian luxury car.

Today’s commute had followed that exact, exhausting routine.

Having engaged in a screaming match since dawn, Gi-hyeon arrived at the den already thoroughly depleted. Merely dropping him off clearly wasn’t enough; insisting on escorting Gi-hyeon right to the front door, Yeon-oh trailed behind him down the long alley between the greenhouses, suddenly asking a ridiculous question.

“Hey, do you know how to blow a grass flute?”

Before Gi-hyeon could answer, Yeon-oh shoved a blade of grass directly against his lips. While Gi-hyeon ignored the demand nine times out of ten, some days he was just too exhausted to fight and simply blew the damn leaf. Because the Military Academy was located deep in the countryside with zero entertainment options, mastering the grass flute out of sheer boredom had inadvertently become a special skill.

When the leaf produced a sharp, shrill peep-peep, Yeon-oh would actually clap his hands in genuine delight. Even when Gi-hyeon cursed him out for being a fucking lunatic, Yeon-oh would just flash a bright smile, chirp, “See you later,” pat Gi-hyeon on the back, and retrace his steps toward the car parked at the edge of the dirt road.

Those casual, deeply affectionate gestures blatantly broadcasted that Yeon-oh was currently in an exceptionally fantastic mood. What the hell is he so happy about? Gi-hyeon simply couldn’t comprehend the man, but he didn’t push him away. Ironically, their current dynamic felt significantly less hostile and volatile than the agonizing tension preceding the collapse of their relationship.

Gi-hyeon’s objective was crystal clear. That calculated resolve was the sole foundation of their current, fragile peace.

Regardless, roughly two hours after Gi-hyeon started his shift at the den, Yeon-oh would inevitably reappear. If Gi-hyeon was dozing off, Yeon-oh would silently sweep the floor or take over the counter duties.

The truly shocking development was that Yeon-oh had actually struck up a conversation with the notoriously silent bank teller.

“He said he’s trying to pay off some debt.”

“He actually told you that?” Gi-hyeon asked in utter disbelief. He hadn’t pegged the man as someone capable of sharing personal baggage.