Chapter 84

However, when Jo Yeon-oh woke up the next morning, the space beside him was empty and completely cold.

Yeon-oh jolted upright in a panic.

Cursing viciously, he vaulted out of bed, frantically pulling on his pants before hunting down his shirt and shoving his head through the collar.

He distinctly remembered being perfectly sober when they returned to the suite to shower, yet his clothes were scattered haphazardly across the room. It was an incredibly uncharacteristic mess; usually, he meticulously hung even his t-shirts on a hanger. Consequently, tracking down his discarded clothes cost him precious time.

Finally wrestling his arms through the sleeves, he grabbed his phone and bolted for the door, sprinting toward the elevators. Staring at the floor indicator ticking upward, he realized in a panic that he couldn’t even remember what floor they were on. Just as he spun around to sprint for the emergency stairs, the elevator chimed, the doors sliding open. He practically dove inside.

“What kind of fucked up…”

In the elevator mirror, the Alpha staring back at him was an absolute wreck. His hair stuck out in every direction, and his shirt was bunched up under his armpits, completely exposing his pecs and abs. He hadn’t even bothered to pull it down. His eyes were bruised with exhaustion. Glaring murderously at his own reflection, Yeon-oh finally yanked his shirt down and jabbed the screen of his phone with trembling fingers. The frantic ringing in his ears was deafening. Just then, the phone buzzed lightly with an incoming text message.

[Web Notification]
HS Haeseong 18 Approved Jo Yeon-oh 92,000 KRW
Approved 08/16 08:12 September
Bakery

“…”

Yeon-oh snapped his mouth shut. A rapid succession of similar transaction alerts immediately flooded his screen. Only then did he frantically pat down his back pocket. The wallet that should have been safely tucked away was gone.

Crushing his index finger against his violently throbbing temple, he pulled up a search engine app and typed in the bakery’s name. The location was suspiciously close. It was a bakery located inside the hotel lobby.

“Ha, fuck…”

A hollow, disbelieving sigh slipped out alongside the curse. Just then, the elevator chimed, the doors sliding open. Only as he stepped out onto the polished marble floor did Yeon-oh realize he was still wearing the flimsy hotel slippers.

“Hey. When did you come down?”

A terrifyingly familiar voice cut through his panic. Whipping his head around, he saw So Gi-hyeon standing there with a perfectly blank expression, holding a massive paper bag overflowing with bread. Swallowing the explosive curse threatening to tear from his throat, Yeon-oh forced his voice to remain as gentle as humanly possible.

“…Fuck, you really don’t let me let my guard down for a single second, do you?”

Glancing at Yeon-oh with mild indifference, Gi-hyeon stepped into the elevator Yeon-oh had just vacated and answered simply.

“I suddenly craved bread.”

The uncharacteristically docile, straightforward answer sent a completely different kind of chill down Yeon-oh’s spine. Guilt slammed into him. He should have woken up early and secured breakfast for him. He had relentlessly tormented the man all night, yet he had carelessly allowed him to go hungry. The anxiety spiked.

Clicking his tongue softly, Yeon-oh took the heavy bag from Gi-hyeon’s hands. For a guy with a small appetite, he bought a shitload of food. Despite Gi-hyeon notoriously disliking sugar-coated pastries, the bag was packed with excessively sweet options like cream puffs and cinnamon rolls.

The sheer volume of bread looked like rations for a doomsday bunker. Releasing a low sigh, Yeon-oh guided Gi-hyeon back toward their suite.

Still, the realization that Gi-hyeon had used his credit card for the first time in years wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling. While Yeon-oh was the one who had practically kidnapped him and dragged him to the hotel without giving him time to pack a wallet, Yeon-oh knew better than anyone that if Gi-hyeon harbored any lingering resentment, he was absolutely not the type to dig through Yeon-oh’s pockets to buy pastries, regardless of how broke he was.

But that was the extent of his reassurance. Staring at the back of Gi-hyeon’s perfectly calm head, Yeon-oh had absolutely no idea what the man was thinking. He analyzed Gi-hyeon with mounting, frantic anxiety.

The hallway was dead quiet. He could faintly hear the hum of vacuum cleaners from the floors below where the housekeepers had already begun their morning rounds, but the suite level remained cloaked in silence. Yeon-oh nervously wet his dry lips several times, swallowing heavily before finally managing to force out a single sentence.

“…Tell me before you leave next time. I thought I was going to lose my fucking mind.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

Despite the agonizing effort it took to voice his panic, Gi-hyeon dismissed it with brutal apathy. Yeon-oh tilted his head, carefully searching Gi-hyeon’s face for any hidden meaning. Gi-hyeon was staring right back at him. Fixating on Gi-hyeon’s slightly swollen lower lip, Yeon-oh spaced out, genuinely unable to tell if it was standard morning puffiness or the direct result of him aggressively sucking on it all night.

Leaving Yeon-oh entirely to his confusion, Gi-hyeon reached out and gently, almost absentmindedly, scratched the side of Yeon-oh’s head, right behind his ear. Yeon-oh flinched in shock, staring blankly at Gi-hyeon.

Turning away, Gi-hyeon pulled the key card from his pocket and unlocked the door. Unlike high-end luxury hotels that provided dedicated butler service for suites, this was clearly a mid-tier tourist trap that offered the “Suite” title without any of the actual premium amenities.

Gi-hyeon pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air conditioning made the suite significantly cooler than the hallway. Only then did Yeon-oh, who had been sprinting around like a madman trying to locate his missing Omega, realize he was drenched in cold sweat.

“If you’re hot, go wash up. I’m going to start on the bread,” Gi-hyeon called out from the bedroom.

Even though no one was watching, Yeon-oh nodded automatically before speaking up.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

Gi-hyeon didn’t offer verbal confirmation, but Yeon-oh knew the man well enough to know he would explicitly say no if he actually intended to leave. Slightly reassured, Yeon-oh headed for the bathroom.

As he stripped off his clothes for a shower, he noticed the bathroom was slightly damp. Since he had washed Gi-hyeon in the other bathroom last night, the moisture indicated Gi-hyeon had showered here this morning. Because this bathroom was located far from the master bedroom where they had slept, it was painfully obvious Gi-hyeon had used this one specifically to avoid waking him.

“You’re too fucking nice, So Gi-hyeon…”

A wry chuckle escaped his lips.

Grabbing a disposable washcloth, he pumped a generous dollop of shower gel onto it. Suddenly, a subtle, intoxicating scent drifted through the air. The instant his brain registered it as So Gi-hyeon’s pheromones, the muscles in his inner thighs locked tight, and his cock immediately snapped to attention.

“…Ugh.”

As if the grueling marathon last night hadn’t been enough, the aggressively throbbing erection was already mapped with thick, bulging veins. He was violently aroused. Scoffing in disbelief, he lightly flicked his cock with an index finger, watching it bob eagerly in response.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and began a slow, methodical stroke. He desperately tried to keep his mind completely blank while he jerked off, but the visceral memory of burying himself deep inside Gi-hyeon forcefully hijacked his brain.

Following closely behind that memory was the sickeningly sweet aroma of Gi-hyeon’s neck, the bouncy, plush texture of the nipples he had bitten and sucked on, the chest that had puffed up exactly like the bread Gi-hyeon had just bought, and the sight of those firm ass cheeks snapping taut and shivering with every brutal thrust.

He fought desperately to banish the images, but the intrusive memories aggressively popped up faster than he could delete them. He simply couldn’t shake the phantom sensations of So Gi-hyeon. Ultimately, he was forced to aggressively furiously stroke himself under the spray of the showerhead until his forearms cramped and bulged, finally climaxing with a frustrated curse.

Opening the floodgates had apparently triggered a catastrophic structural failure. This relentless, overflowing lust felt like a mocking reminder that he was, indeed, Jo Seong-heon’s degenerate spawn. The realization was pathetic. If he was going to break this easily, what the hell was the point of all those years of agonizing restraint? It was an incredibly hollow, yet intensely degrading pleasure.

Regardless, he didn’t have the luxury of drowning in a spiral of self-loathing right now.

He forced himself to finish his shower with a blank mind, aggressively towel-drying his hair. He pointedly ignored the water droplets clinging to the glass of the shower stall. The horrifying realization that he had just jerked off to the memory of So Gi-hyeon inside the very stall Gi-hyeon had just used made him want to scrub the entire bathroom with bleach. However, knowing his ravenous partner was waiting outside, indulging his OCD was impossible. He simply threw on his pants and walked out.

His erection had mercifully died.

In the bedroom, Gi-hyeon was half-reclining against the pillows, methodically devouring the pastries. He wasn’t watching TV, and he wasn’t looking at his phone; he was entirely, intensely hyper-focused on tearing the bread apart and eating it. Fascinated by the single-minded dedication, Yeon-oh stared at him until Gi-hyeon finally turned his head.

“If you’re done washing up, let’s go.”

Shoving the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, Gi-hyeon brushed the crumbs off his hands. Striding over to the table, Gi-hyeon dug into the duffel bag Yeon-oh had brought and tossed him his pique polo shirt. Only then did Yeon-oh realize the shirt he had frantically thrown on earlier was the exact same one he had worn yesterday.

It was a surprisingly considerate gesture tailored specifically for Jo Yeon-oh, a man notoriously averse to wearing the same clothes twice. Rendered completely speechless, Yeon-oh simply caught the shirt and pulled it on. Grabbing the duffel bag and the remaining bag of pastries, Gi-hyeon marched purposefully past Yeon-oh, heading straight for the exit.

“You’re not even going to dry your hair?”

“…”

Yeon-oh didn’t answer. A heavy, leaden weight settled in his chest. Gi-hyeon was already out in the hallway, waiting for him. Following him out, Yeon-oh watched as Gi-hyeon, juggling the bags, dug into the paper sack and pulled something out. Quickly ensuring the room was secure, Yeon-oh stepped out and snatched the heavy duffel bag from Gi-hyeon’s grip, silently observing his actions.

Gi-hyeon pulled a small box containing a single cupcake from the bakery bag. Staring at it in confusion, Yeon-oh looked up as Gi-hyeon blinked his long eyelashes like a docile sheep and spoke.

“It’s your birthday. Yours.”

“…”

Gi-hyeon patiently waited while Yeon-oh simply blinked in blank, uncomprehending shock. The hotel corridor was dead silent, save for the faint, ambient noise drifting up from the lower floors. When Gi-hyeon remained perfectly still, offering no further explanation, Yeon-oh finally reached out and took the small box from his hands.

“…”

“Technically, it was the day before yesterday. I was swamped with work and completely forgot. And yes, I bought this with your money.”

He delivered the birthday gift with a laundry list of defensive, pathetic excuses. Normally, Yeon-oh would have instantly seized the opportunity to mock him mercilessly, demanding to know what kind of lunatic buys a birthday present using the birthday boy’s own credit card. Yet, Yeon-oh kept his mouth firmly shut, completely silent.

Surprised by the incredibly subdued reaction, Gi-hyeon cleared his throat and initiated the conversation. “Why did you rush out so frantically this morning?”

“…”

Staring blankly at the small box in his hand, Yeon-oh slowly lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Gi-hyeon. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something. Gi-hyeon waited patiently. But the words never came, and once again, Gi-hyeon was forced to fill the silence.

“I’m not running away anymore.”

With that declaration, Gi-hyeon turned and walked toward the elevators. He planned to check out of the hotel, and once they left, he would inform Jisu that he was heading back to Seoul first. Just as he reached out to press the call button for the lobby, a hand clamped down hard on his wrist.

“You…”

The voice was heavily strangled. Gi-hyeon looked up at the man holding his wrist. Yeon-oh was staring at him with an entirely unreadable expression. He looked profoundly confused.

And Gi-hyeon couldn’t exactly blame him. Yesterday, Gi-hyeon had deployed the sexual ultimatum as a tactical nuke, fully intending to trigger Yeon-oh’s disgust and force a permanent separation. But the detonation had failed spectacularly. Instead, the only thing Gi-hyeon had experienced was his own absolute defeat in the face of Jo Yeon-oh’s terrifyingly relentless, psychotic devotion.

If your affection is this impossibly deep—capable of offering absolutely everything except romantic love—how could I possibly keep ignoring it?

Gi-hyeon had surrendered certain expectations, accepted the reality of his situation, and completely relinquished the hope of attaining the one thing he couldn’t have.

“I won’t do anything to make you worry anymore.”

“…”

Gi-hyeon spoke in a soft, soothing tone. Yeon-oh’s eyes wavered with intense, chaotic confusion. Reaching out, Gi-hyeon patted Yeon-oh’s forearm twice. It was a gesture of pure, platonic camaraderie, radiating an exact, calculated temperature—nothing more, nothing less.

“I’ve completely organized my feelings.”

“…So Gi-hyeon.”

“I won’t make you suffer anymore. You’ve worked hard all this time.”

The phrasing was dangerously close to the exact words he had used when demanding they sever ties permanently. Gi-hyeon hesitated for a fraction of a second, but quickly dismissed the concern. Whatever. The only thing that mattered was his own internal resolution. The new So Gi-hyeon, who was now officially Jo Yeon-oh’s ‘best friend.’

“But wait, do we have to check out on a different floor instead of the lobby? I heard suites have a separate desk.”

Having finally unloaded the heavy burden he had been carrying for so long, Gi-hyeon felt incredibly light. Mumbling the mundane question, he looked up at the elevator indicator panel. The numbers were slowly ticking upward, approaching their floor. Gi-hyeon simply waited patiently. Completely oblivious to the agonizing, catastrophic realization the man standing right behind him was currently enduring.

Timing, it seemed, was always destined to be their tragic flaw. The exact second the elevator arrived with a cheerful ding, their emotional trajectories violently, irreversibly missed each other. With a remarkably light heart, Gi-hyeon stepped into the elevator.

It was time to go home.

***