Chapter 31

🜼 🜼 🜼

Cherriot’s black sports bag carried a large beach towel, a water bottle, and one of the gummy bags Yuri had bought him. Made of lightweight polyester with thin shoulder straps, the bag collapsed into a sharp triangular shape when cinched tight—an odd silhouette Yuri had never seen before, though it suited Cherriot perfectly.

As they headed out, Cherriot slipped on a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and a white baseball cap. His light gray T-shirt left his pale, corded forearms exposed, and his well-fitted jeans completed the casual look of a young man entirely at ease with himself. The moment he stepped out of the house, sunlight caught in his hair, scattering it like golden flames. He frowned against the glare, yet a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s the kind of day where it wouldn’t be strange to fall in love,” he said suddenly, swinging the bag over his shoulder with an impulsive flourish.

Yuri, still fussing with the door lock for the third time, turned at the exclamation. Cherriot was gazing up at the sky, the sun pouring down in blinding brilliance even through his sunglasses, and yet he smiled as if he would gladly go blind for the view.

“What does that even mean?” Yuri asked before he could stop himself. He didn’t need the answer—he knew it was likely a fleeting, meaningless thought—but the words slipped out anyway.

Cherriot grinned. “The weather is so good that if you caught someone’s eye, you might just fall in love.”

But Yuri, watching the clean lines of Cherriot’s lifted chin, the smooth stretch of his neck, and the sunlight cascading along his profile, felt a pull far heavier than he wanted to admit. Each breath Cherriot exhaled lifted his broad chest and set his Adam’s apple in motion—an achingly beautiful sight.

Realizing he was staring, Yuri yanked his gaze away and focused on double-checking the door and windows. When he turned back, Cherriot had only moved a few steps, waiting patiently.

Sensing Yuri’s approach, Cherriot shifted his face toward him. Behind the sunglasses, his luminous green eyes were hidden, leaving Yuri dissatisfied.

“In that case,” Yuri muttered, “your love would wither the moment the weather turns.”

Cherriot flashed a smirk. “But it would last at least three months.”

“Three months?” Yuri arched a brow.

“The minimum expiration date of love.”

Yuri’s skepticism was plain without sunglasses to hide it. Cherriot chuckled. “That’s the face of someone who doesn’t believe me.”

“Most of what you say has no nutritional value,” Yuri said dryly.

“It’s a scientifically proven fact!” Cherriot protested, sounding unfairly accused as he strolled to Yuri’s side.

Perhaps because the day was bright and a light wind was stirring, Cherriot’s pheromones reached Yuri almost immediately. He stiffened, an instinctive rejection rippling through him at the dense, sweet scent—but the moment he recognized it as Cherriot’s, the alarm faded. His scent is unusually strong today.

For the past two days, Cherriot’s pheromones had been muted, but now they surged with every movement—like an Alpha on the verge of rut, ready to enchant any Omega in his path.

Seriously, if we keep staying in the same space, I feel like I’m going to cause an accident. What is this—rut? No, it can’t be. I took suppressants before sleeping yesterday, so there’s no way…

Turning over the remark that had driven him to risk leaving the house, Yuri asked carefully, “You did take your suppressants, right?”

“I did. Yesterday evening, and again this morning.”

Suppressants varied by manufacturer, but generally, taking one the day before rut offered some coverage. Even if Cherriot’s rut started today, the dose from last night should hold. Yuri almost asked exactly when his rut was due, but the question stuck in his throat. The topic felt uncomfortably intimate.

It irritated him—acting like some shy, inexperienced Omega—but even so, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. If he did, the memory from that morning would resurface.

…To nearly kiss an Alpha.

It hadn’t been a kiss, not exactly, but it was the closest Yuri had ever come. He could count the times another person’s face had been that close to his on one hand, which made the memory sting even more. Whenever Yuri went into rut, he had sex, but he could count his kisses just as easily.

If a partner pressed their mouth to his, he would respond for the moment, but he never tangled tongues, never lingered. He never felt the urge. Kissing felt far too emotional—an intimacy inappropriate for arrangements meant purely to relieve desire. It was uncomfortable, disagreeable. He had almost no experience with real kisses.

His sex life was plain and utilitarian, its purpose clear. He moved toward release, and his touches were nothing more than obligations—to loosen an Omega’s body enough to take him. Watching someone writhe and moan under his hand could be satisfying, but it was purely primal. It had never been about the kiss.

For all those reasons, Yuri didn’t want to talk to Cherriot about rut. If they spoke of it, some strange feeling inside him seemed likely to churn and surface.

Cherriot persisted, “Why ask about suppressants, though?”

Cherriot had latched onto the very subject Yuri most wanted to avoid. Yuri clamped his lips shut and chose silence, taking a few steps forward. He had no idea where he was heading, only that he needed to escape that space.

“Wolfiee, why’d you ask?” Cherriot piped up.

Unfortunately, Yuri wasn’t in any position to simply leave him behind. Cherriot pressed in close, refusing to drop the topic. The sunlight was so harsh it seemed to slice into his vision, making his eyes sting and forcing his eyelids to clamp shut on instinct.

With a reluctant sigh, Yuri squeezed his eyes tighter and finally muttered, “You were talking nonsense about feeling like you might fall in love. That’s why I asked.”

Cherriot accepted the reasoning without fuss. “I keep telling you, it’s not nonsense—it’s scientific fact.”

“Sounds more like superstition to me.”

“You’d be shocked if you knew how much actual research exists about love.”

Say whatever you want. Yuri let him ramble. His eyelids twitched against the blazing light, irritating him enough to make him think he truly needed sunglasses. For the first time, he realized people didn’t wear them just to stay incognito—they wore them to keep from being blinded. He’d never understood before, since he rarely walked under the daytime sun.

“It only takes seven seconds to fall in love,” Cherriot continued, glued to Yuri’s side. “Scientists proved that you can fall hard for someone in less than ten seconds.”

As he rattled on about pseudoscience, he suddenly reached for Yuri’s face. Squinting, Yuri noticed the motion a fraction too late, and before he could pull back, Cherriot’s hand touched his forehead. “First stage of love,” Cherriot declared.

Flattening his palm, he cast a shadow over Yuri’s brow. When the hand-shaped shade fell across his face, Yuri froze, startled by the sudden clarity of Cherriot’s face looming close. Again, far too close.

Cherriot had tilted his head, bending forward to study him. Concern flickered in those green eyes, now unhidden—at some point, he’d removed his sunglasses. He held them in his other hand, extending them toward Yuri.

“This won’t do. Wear mine.”

“…No need.”

“That’s not something a guy who can barely open his eyes should say. Don’t act like a newborn wolf pup.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at the absurd comparison. This time, irritation—not sunlight—caused the gesture. Misreading him, Cherriot gently lifted the sunglasses in both hands and moved to place them on Yuri’s face. “Someone will spot you for sure. Stop being stubborn and just take them.”

Yuri’s refusal was firm. “If someone recognizes you for no reason—”

Cherriot cut him off by sliding the sunglasses onto his face. Yuri stilled at the unfamiliar weight resting on his temples. The bridge pinched his nose lightly, and the darkness of the lenses felt strange. Faintly, the scent of Cherriot clung to the frames, wrapping Yuri in his pheromones.

“Hm. They suit you. Guess handsome guys can pull off anything.”

When Yuri didn’t resist, Cherriot’s lips curved in satisfaction. Seeing those pretty green eyes vanish behind a smile made Yuri feel a peculiar flicker of satisfaction in return. If Cherriot wanted to hide his own identity, sunglasses were the logical choice—but Yuri secretly disliked covering those eyes.

“…We should head to the store first,” Yuri muttered.

Because he liked seeing Cherriot’s green eyes in the sun, he decided to tolerate the intrusion a little longer. Unaware of Yuri’s concession, Cherriot burst into a triumphant laugh. “Haha! See? They’re comfortable, right?”

Yuri stayed silent. With the UV rays blocked, it was undeniably easier to keep his eyes open, but he’d survived perfectly well without sunglasses until now. Comfortable or not, he doubted he’d ever wear them again once this brief period ended.

Still, he might need a pair for the days he had left with Cherriot—even a cheap one would do. Ah… not ten days anymore.

A day had passed. Nine remained. Once the weekend was over, only a week would be left. The ten days that had seemed long now felt fleeting. Quietly, Yuri lifted a hand to touch the frame. The sun-warmed plastic was smooth beneath his fingers.

Again, something stirred in his chest. He swallowed down the anxious, restless feeling curling along his ribs and resumed walking. Cherriot fell into step beside him, keeping a handspan of space. Their swinging hands almost brushed, again and again.

A teasing breeze rippled the lake before darting away. Trees swayed in its wake, and Cherriot’s pheromones drifted past Yuri’s nose. The scent filled the air, thick and intoxicating. Yuri inhaled, then spoke just to break the dizzying quiet. “…So.”

“Hm?”

“What’s the second stage of love?”

“You believe me now?” Cherriot grinned, genuinely delighted.

Yuri nearly scoffed, but that bright smile made him close his mouth. He didn’t want to break it apart. With a white grin lighting his face, Cherriot gestured toward the lake.

“It’s nothing complicated. Just as simple as jumping in there.”

Yuri’s eyes followed his outstretched arm. The lake hadn’t changed in a day, yet it gleamed a deeper, more radiant blue than before. The water ran like a river, its depth shrouded, stirring an almost childlike urge to dive.

Must be because the weather’s perfect.

Cherriot’s voice was gentle. “You fall in completely—until your whole body’s soaked.”

As Yuri looked at the lake that way, a whisper sounded by his ear. At the voice that murmured as if it had noticed his impulse, Yuri looked up. Cherriot was staring into the distance, smiling soundlessly.

He looked as if he were thinking deeply about something, as if he had returned to the past. His father’s profile had looked like that when he remembered his mother. For some reason, Yuri didn’t like that profile on Cherriot.

“You talk like someone who’s been in love.”

At words whose intent even he could not understand, Yuri frowned behind the sunglasses. Cherriot laughed low and stepped lightly forward in his slippers. “Does it look that way?”

“Yes.”

Yuri slowly returned his face to its usual expression and closed his mouth. He had said he didn’t date anyone seriously. He only had partners. And yet he talks like that so easily.

The process of love described by someone who did not love sounded so plausible that, for an instant, Yuri believed Cherriot might have had that kind of love before. The contradiction of Cherriot made him slightly displeased. “Sadly, I haven’t. True love is something only brave people can do.”

At the words that followed, Yuri’s misunderstanding cleared. The feeling that had briefly twisted inside him like a tangled bag strap returned to its place. Whether Cherriot had loved someone painfully or not had absolutely nothing to do with him, but… “Still, you should be careful.”

Yuri added a small warning. “If you fall in love at first sight with some Omega passing by, it’ll become troublesome in many ways.”

Even if there had been nothing in the past, remembering what Cherriot had said earlier, an incident could happen at any time. At Yuri’s scolding, Cherriot tapped the edge of his baseball cap with his index finger. The brim shook lightly with the motion. “Then you’ll have to watch me carefully so I don’t look elsewhere.”

Yuri gave a hollow laugh. Even though he knew there was nothing more impossible than controlling another person’s emotions, he didn’t particularly dislike Cherriot’s attitude as he told Yuri to look after him. “If you listen well.”

“That’s strange. Haven’t I been doing incredibly well so far?”

“Hard to say.”

At the shameless reply, Yuri shrugged. “It seems to me you’ve been doing whatever you wanted.”

“Have I?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe the two of us work well together. Considering I’ve been doing whatever I wanted, the results haven’t been bad so far.”

Yuri hadn’t expected such an answer. His steps slowed for an instant. He did think Cherriot was becoming less afraid of him, but he had considered that to be the limit of their relationship. Even if Cherriot gained certainty that Yuri wouldn’t kill him, Yuri Kiselyov wouldn’t stop being the kind of person Cherriot hated.

Yet Cherriot was speaking as if their relationship might move beyond mere non-hostility. “Come on, Wolfie. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

A few steps ahead, Cherriot walked backward while looking at Yuri. When Yuri raised his brows at the oddity of walking in reverse, Cherriot laughed low and beckoned. “Hurry!”

Without giving Yuri any more time to think, he began running like a boy. Because Cherriot kept looking back and gesturing for Yuri to follow, Yuri eventually lengthened his stride, too. The wide steps he took changed at some point into a slow run, though Yuri didn’t even realize he was running.