Chapter 1

“Did you feed the goldfish their din-din?”

Even though So Gi-hyeon thought he was alone in the apartment, the sudden sound of his lover’s voice didn’t startle him. The pristine state of the entryway when he had taken off his shoes had already tipped him off to the man’s presence.

Instead of replying, Gi-hyeon sluggishly peeled off his shirt and tossed it into the laundry basket. From the darkened living room, the distinct rustle of Jo Yeon-oh shifting on the sofa echoed through the space.

Unlike Gi-hyeon, who stood just shy of 180 centimeters, Jo Yeon-oh was the size of a damn door frame wherever he went. Towering over most vending machines and refrigerators, his sheer height and weapon-like shoulders often made him an incredibly intimidating figure. This was compounded by a notoriously filthy temper. Cramming a frame that massive into Gi-hyeon’s tiny sofa clearly came with its difficulties, judging by the heavy grunts as he hauled himself up. Glancing out from the bedroom, Gi-hyeon caught a glimpse of Yeon-oh’s bedhead illuminated softly by the faint glow of the small fish tank.

It was glaringly obvious that the Alpha had skipped another meeting just to crawl into Gi-hyeon’s apartment for a nap. Allowing him to keep spare clothes here had been a massive mistake.

“I asked if you fed them. Why aren’t you answering?” Yeon-oh grumbled. “You’re supposed to be their father, but you’re always out wandering around. No wonder the kids are so skinny.”

His tone was identical to a nagging spouse scolding a late-returning partner for neglecting their parental duties.

Gi-hyeon, however, had his own reasons for the silence. He was currently calculating the exact probability of Yeon-oh’s poor secretary popping antacids while frantically calling or messaging him. This was all thanks to the sin of serving a boss who was as impossibly competent as he was profoundly lazy.

There were other pressing matters occupying his mind as well. Just moments prior, Gi-hyeon had slipped his military dog tags from his neck and silently slid them into the nightstand drawer to avoid any metallic clinking. If Yeon-oh caught sight of him still wearing those tags, a bitter lecture was absolutely guaranteed. They had to be hidden at all costs.

Furthermore, Gi-hyeon had commuted home still wearing his clinic scrubs, and the sheer anticipation of being nagged about it already exhausted him. Adding another argument to an already grueling workday simply wasn’t a profitable use of energy. Just as he prepared to quickly strip and head to the shower, heavy arms banded securely around his waist from behind.

“You came home without changing out of your uniform again.”

“Mm.”

Caught red-handed, Gi-hyeon offered a painfully short murmur of agreement. It was a remarkably flimsy shield against the nagging that was bound to follow.

“You don’t even know what kind of germs are crawling all over those things. Why do you always commute in your scrubs? Change before you leave work next time.”

Neither confirming nor denying the demand, Gi-hyeon simply dragged Yeon-oh’s clinging weight along as he methodically completed his post-work routine.

If the Alpha was genuinely worried about hospital germs, he should have backed off. Gi-hyeon had made this point countless times to absolutely no avail. Thus, his only real option was to ignore the massive leech permanently attached to his back.

Looking faintly exhausted, Yeon-oh merely draped himself over Gi-hyeon, burying his face deep into the crook of his neck. Since Gi-hyeon was already shirtless, the sudden contact of Yeon-oh’s warm cheek against his bare skin sent a violent shudder tracing down his spine.

A heavy thrum of desire instantly pooled low in his abdomen, but he ruthlessly crushed it down. This wasn’t a new phenomenon. To So Gi-hyeon, arousal was merely a passing sensation, akin to a tolerable pang of hunger that would eventually fade. On days when the urge grew agonizing, he simply burned it off through intense exercise. Though a lingering ache in his ankle occasionally limited his options, even a punishing upper-body workout was usually enough to drown the fire.

Meanwhile, Yeon-oh’s arms cinched perfectly around Gi-hyeon’s waist, the crisp fabric of his dress shirt rustling coldly against Gi-hyeon’s bare skin. A slow, steady exhale brushed against the nape of his neck.

He’s finding peace right now, Gi-hyeon realized with instinctual certainty. Just by touching me.

“You’re the one who said I might be covered in germs. Let go until I’ve showered,” Gi-hyeon instructed.

“Are you underestimating my immune system?” Yeon-oh murmured.

His voice was pitched impossibly low, rumbling like the soft patter of rain. It was a specific, resonant tone the Alpha only ever used when he felt completely at ease.

A quiet chuckle slipped from Gi-hyeon’s lips. Unused to his lover laughing in his presence, Yeon-oh pulled his cheek away, his curiosity palpable as he scrutinized the side of Gi-hyeon’s face.

“You’re doing that thing again, where you only laugh with your voice. Let me see your face.” Yeon-oh’s demand came softly.

Even this insistence wasn’t born out of romantic love. It was simply a manifestation of how deeply Yeon-oh cherished him. Gi-hyeon harbored no delusions about that fact. Over the past seven years, he hadn’t misunderstood the boundaries of their relationship even once.

When Gi-hyeon offered no response, Yeon-oh simply reburied his forehead into the nape of his neck, exhaling heavily. The tickle of his bangs against sensitive skin would have been distracting under different circumstances, but Gi-hyeon knew with absolute certainty that this physical clinginess was entirely devoid of sexual desire.

After all, Jo Yeon-oh was an Alpha. And So Gi-hyeon was a Beta male. They belonged to two demographics that traditionally interacted with profound indifference.

In high society, Alpha–Alpha unions were frequently wielded as political tools. The news of an Alpha second son from Corporation A getting engaged to an Alpha eldest daughter from Corporation B was treated as a far cleaner, more effective business agreement than a corporate merger.

However, the dynamic between an Alpha male and a Beta male was entirely different. Their union lacked the biological fruitfulness of an Alpha–Omega pairing, and it completely lacked the calculated rationality of an Alpha–Alpha alliance.

Society viewed it as nothing more than an immoral collision of sheer lust. Conservative factions aggressively ostracized Beta men who dared to date Alpha men. While fierce civil rights movements screaming for anti-discrimination had managed to dilute some of the vitriol, deeply rooted prejudice still maintained a stranglehold on society.

As the times shifted, the cultural current that once heavily tabooed Alpha–Beta romances began to turn, framing the discriminators as uneducated bigots instead.

Yet, that progressive stance was largely a public facade.

Behind closed doors, interpersonal discrimination thrived. Absolutely no one genuinely welcomed those who chose this path. Some merely offered pity, looking down on those trudging along a treacherous, unpaved road.

“Did you eat?”

Tearing through his heavy musings, Yeon-oh’s question vibrated directly into the skin of his neck. Gi-hyeon’s brow twitched briefly before smoothing out into his usual stoic indifference.

“At the clinic. You?”

Completely unfazed by the massive Alpha draped over his back, Gi-hyeon proceeded to strip off his scrub pants, tossing them into the laundry bin.

While Gi-hyeon was by no means short, Yeon-oh was so overwhelmingly massive that if he let his full weight go dead, Gi-hyeon’s upper body would inevitably collapse under the strain. Bracing himself against the burden, Gi-hyeon locked his erector spinae muscles, refusing to buckle as he carried on with his routine. The intense flexion merely carved a deep, defined valley down the center of his back.

Sensing the tension, Yeon-oh slowly traced the curve of Gi-hyeon’s waist, his fingers ghosting over his abdomen to follow the faint indentation left by the waistband of his scrubs. With Gi-hyeon’s abs and spinal muscles so tightly coiled and his body fat percentage exceptionally low, the mark was barely visible, yet the Alpha silently mapped the phantom line regardless.

Gi-hyeon’s shoulders gave a minute twitch at the ticklish sensation. Yeon-oh was fully prepared to back off if told to go away one more time, but Gi-hyeon remained utterly silent, merely shifting his focus to emptying the backpack he had brought home.

Yeon-oh cast a fleeting glance at the clock. Despite the oppressive gloom of the rainy evening outside, it was barely seven o’clock. As he studied the hands ticking on the wall, a sudden thought seemed to strike him.

“Didn’t you say the athletes’ clinic was having a staff dinner tonight?”

“The team leader had some urgent business and left early, so I took the opportunity to escape,” Gi-hyeon replied smoothly.

As he answered, Gi-hyeon hauled out the items haphazardly shoved into his bag. The laptop and clinical documents he had packed for the morning’s case conference were in a chaotic jumble.

By nature, So Gi-hyeon was not a meticulously organized man. The rigorous habits drilled into him during his Military Academy days were the only reason he managed to maintain a baseline level of tidiness. Left to his own devices on his days off, he would happily languish in bed without a single thought of emerging. His current, relatively neat routine had only been adopted slowly, entirely out of necessity. He had spent too many years watching the obsessively immaculate Jo Yeon-oh clean up his messes even when the Alpha was dead on his feet. If Gi-hyeon didn’t do it, Yeon-oh would.

Even as Gi-hyeon meticulously sorted the spilled contents, the heavy hands anchoring his waist refused to retreat. Those fingers, still absently tracing the ridge of his spine, carried absolutely no carnal heat. Gi-hyeon knew it was nothing more than an ingrained habit.

Despite having dated for a considerable amount of time, they had never shared a single touch that could be classified as genuinely sexual, save for the fleeting, chaste kisses one might expect from children. Even when their lips met, they never deepened the kiss; neither man knew what the inside of the other’s mouth felt like. This physical clinging was merely Yeon-oh’s way of seeking comfort, a childish indulgence that Gi-hyeon understood perfectly.

Jo Yeon-oh only stayed by his side because he loved him deeply as a friend. Gi-hyeon had long decided that this was acceptable. It was an undeniable truth of life that not all emotions burned the same way, nor could all affection sparkle with romance. Gi-hyeon found solace in the simple, unwavering knowledge that he was precious to Jo Yeon-oh.

That was enough. His love had never demanded compensation. To him, harboring an all-consuming love for Yeon-oh and actually having that love reciprocated were two entirely separate concepts.

That same logic had fueled his disastrous confession. Yeon-oh had been profoundly disappointed in him back then, his entire demeanor practically screaming it. For a long time after that day, the Alpha would look at Gi-hyeon with the gutted eyes of a betrayed man. Yet, against all odds, he had eventually returned to Gi-hyeon’s side.

Even after viciously spitting out an agreement to date, Yeon-oh had severed all contact for a while, occasionally surfacing only to hurl venomous, humiliating insults. But ultimately, he had swallowed his pride, returning to claim the title of Gi-hyeon’s lover.

Because of that, Gi-hyeon genuinely believed he owed the Alpha a massive debt.

Kind, foolish Yeon-oh.

He could have easily discarded the confession and walked away forever. Instead, despite the agonizing heartbreak and visceral sense of betrayal, the man had stubbornly clawed his way back just to hold Gi-hyeon’s hand.

Whenever a dark, greedy urge threatened to rise in his chest, Gi-hyeon would violently suppress it, reminding himself that this was enough. Even if their physical intimacy was reduced to nothing more than childish pecks, he was content. He remained by Yeon-oh’s side solely to give his love, never demanding to be loved in return.

Their relationship was sustained on that razor-thin wire of compromise. Dissatisfaction? Perhaps. But that burden certainly didn’t belong to So Gi-hyeon.

Finally untangling his arms from Gi-hyeon’s waist, Yeon-oh padded toward the kitchen.

“Seriously, did you feed our babies their din-din?” he asked again.

The phrasing made it sound as though they were actually raising children together. A phantom exhaustion washed over Gi-hyeon at the domesticity of it.

“You probably fed them,” he deflected.

The crisp seal of the refrigerator door popping open echoed through the apartment, followed by Yeon-oh’s distant, muffled voice. “How would you ever survive without me?”

A faint, self-deprecating smile touched Gi-hyeon’s lips as he stepped into a soft pair of loungewear pants.

“I wonder.”

His response was a fragile, breathless whisper. He highly doubted Yeon-oh had heard it at all.