WGD Ch 8
by soapa“That’s ridiculous.”
Siheon threw out the words, then paused to think of what to say next. Though his body was tense, his mind raced swiftly.
“You—Cha Wonwoo, you said you told me about the arranged meeting beforehand because you were scared of hurting me. What was it? Right, you said you didn’t want me to get hurt by you hiding things, that you didn’t want me to find out some other way and get hurt, so you told me upfront. You said all that, so why are you acting so shocked by what I said?”
His thoughts tightened like a taut string. Reason held his tongue, warning against a slip-up. By chance, his gaze landed on a framed still from a bank ad he’d shot long ago, hanging on the wall he’d turned to. A photo of himself, dressed in clothes Cha Wonwoo had chosen, smiling brightly.
The CH Bank was one of Wonwoo’s success markers, so it made sense it was displayed, but Siheon’s face flushed with embarrassment. Turning away from the awkward feeling, he found a handsome face waiting for him.
“I told you beforehand because I didn’t want you to misunderstand, because I didn’t want to hurt you—that’s true. But even as I said it, I wondered if you’d really get hurt because of me. You’re not someone who easily lets themselves lose or get hurt.”
“…”
“And now you’re saying it’s not about me hiding things—it’s the fact that I went to the arranged meeting itself that hurt you. Have you thought about how that sounds to me?”
Slowly but deliberately, Cha Wonwoo slid his thigh between Siheon’s legs. The natural movement left no time to react, and before Siheon knew it, he was entangled with Wonwoo’s rock-solid lower body.
Siheon’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, maintaining a calm expression.
“Do you calculate every single word before you say it? Sometimes people just say things.”
Siheon tried adjusting his position several times, but his upper and lower body were now trapped by Wonwoo, unable to move. With a soft chuckle, Wonwoo asked in a low voice.
“Were you jealous?”
Siheon smiled casually, but the edges wavered, like a flubbed scene. If he’d been monitoring himself, he’d have demanded a reshoot for that expression.
“Oh, come on.”
“Were you jealous?”
“Cut it out.”
“Why were you jealous?”
The guy had already decided Siheon was jealous.
“Think whatever you want. Seems like you’ve already written the script in your head.”
“And if I have? Are you willing to play along with the script I wrote?”
“Forgot? I’m an actor. If the script’s good, I’m all in. But it’s just acting—not real.”
Siheon’s steady gaze traced the smooth bridge of Wonwoo’s nose. There was a time when, if jealousy struck, he could’ve said it right then and there. A time when he didn’t need to hide, when neither of them had to dig or pry into each other’s feelings, when they could simply savor every moment as it was.
As Siheon’s expression darkened, Wonwoo pulled back abruptly.
“Since you want to avoid this topic, shall we go back to the earlier one?”
The searing heat retreated. As Wonwoo, who’d been caging him, stepped away, Siheon felt an odd emptiness. Maybe it was just his imagination. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t into being restrained. Forcing lighter thoughts, he pushed the feeling aside.
Wonwoo hadn’t fully backed off, though. He still stood in front, ensuring Siheon couldn’t slip away.
“How many times?”
“What?”
“How many times has Chairman Cha called you in private?”
Block a tiger at the front door, and a wolf sneaks in the back. Of course he’d ask that. Hiding his unease, Siheon replied.
“This was the first time.”
Arms crossed, Wonwoo let out a low hum.
“You’re good at acting, but not at lying, it seems.”
Caught off guard by the assessment, Siheon looked up at him.
“It’s true.”
“Neither Chairman Cha nor Secretary Baek acted like this was a first.”
“Oh…”
As if just remembering, Siheon straightened and gave Wonwoo a once-over.
“How’d you know I was here?”
Wonwoo shrugged.
“My question came first.”
“What’s with question order? And in Korean society, if we’re talking order, I come first. Ever heard of respecting elders? When hyung asks, the younger one answers—that’s manners.”
Even cold water has a hierarchy. As Siheon let the words slip, Wonwoo’s lips twitched. Unable to call him a geezer outright, he wet his lips with his tongue, giving up on getting an answer and moving on.
“Anyway, I wasn’t mad earlier because you hid it from me—it’s because you walked into a dangerous situation on your own.”
“You were mad? Didn’t notice. You came on so strong, I just thought you were heated up. Your rut’s coming, isn’t it?”
When Siheon tried to brush off the conversation lightly, Wonwoo’s face crumpled. His perfect features twisted, yet even that seemed harmonious, as if it was meant to be.
“Hyung.”
Lowering his voice sharply, Wonwoo called out to Siheon.
“You’re only sleeping with me because of pheromones right now. What if Chairman Cha had emitted pheromones instead of just his alpha aura?”
Right. Siheon had forgotten his condition wasn’t what it used to be. Since syncing pheromones with Wonwoo and sleeping together, he’d been resting well, so it slipped his mind. The tension of meeting Chairman Cha and wondering what he’d say had distracted him too.
Knowing Siheon hadn’t been mindful of his own state, Wonwoo grumbled.
“That’s always your problem, hyung. Why don’t you take care of yourself?”
It makes me want to take care of you.
The low, added words made Siheon look at him anew.
Cha Wonwoo. Despite the grand titles surrounding him, in front of Siheon, he often seemed like any other guy his age. Playful, even a bit spoiled at times.
Hearing him say he wanted to take care of Siheon felt strange, like soft fuzz tickling him all over in a breeze.
Meeting Siheon’s gaze, Wonwoo said.
“Don’t listen to whatever Chairman Cha said. You don’t have any duty or responsibility to follow his words.”
“How do you know what he said?”
“That old man’s words are predictable.”
His tone and voice turned sharp. With a wry smile, Wonwoo uncrossed his arms and reached to slick back his hair out of habit, only to pause. His neatly combed hair, fixed for work, stayed in place.
“Anyway, don’t listen to Chairman Cha.”
His gaze locked onto Siheon, brimming with determination to hear an answer.
Siheon leaned against the wall. Though Wonwoo was taller, tilting his chin up made it feel like he was looking down at him. Young, naive guy. Thinking that to himself, Siheon spoke.
“What if the chairman threatened me?”
Wonwoo grabbed Siheon’s wrist tightly. A menacing glint clouded his dark eyes.
“Then tell me, right now. Everything—what he threatened, how, every detail.”
“And if I do? Got a way to handle it?”
It wasn’t a challenge, just a test to see how far Wonwoo was prepared to go.
“If it’s a threat involving you, I’ll stop it, whatever it is.”
Right, like he stopped the scandal with Lee Jinseok. He’d probably give his own flesh and bone to do it.
“If it’s a threat involving me, that doesn’t matter.”
Then what about Siheon? Was he supposed to just watch? Siheon’s face hardened.
“Why doesn’t it matter? You’re the one who doesn’t take care of yourself.”
Wonwoo let out a heavy sigh. Scanning the office, he released Siheon’s wrist and walked to the desk. Pressing the intercom, Secretary Yang answered promptly.
—Yes, Department Head.
“Has it been checked?”
—Yes, it was inspected today as well. I’ve been here the whole time since. No chance of bugs.
“Understood.”
Hanging up, Wonwoo approached Siheon.
“I was going to tell you after everything was settled, but seeing Chairman Cha call you behind my back changed my mind. I’ll say this once, so listen carefully.”
Why’s he making such a big deal? Siheon nodded, urging him to continue.
“I’m not taking the succession.”
Siheon’s eyes twitched. His face stiffened.
“I’m going to oust Chairman Cha and take that seat myself.”
Without a trace of pheromones, purely with his presence, Wonwoo overwhelmed Siheon, leaving him momentarily speechless.
Before Siheon could process, Wonwoo pressed on.
“I’m going to make him feel exactly what it’s like to have something precious taken away.”
A cold expression, eyes sharp as honed blades, a chilling voice.
“When Chairman Cha was in a coma, I should’ve settled the succession issue for good, but I was too soft. Blood ties—what do they matter? I was just another alpha, after all. Honestly, I didn’t expect him to oppose you this much.”
It was as if Wonwoo was thinking, How could anyone not love hyung? As that innocent question mark faded, a wild, untamed energy seeped into his face.
“I knew something was off when he told me to go have a kid outside. Among other things.”
Siheon flinched at Cha Wonwoo’s words.
That incident.
Though what Wonwoo mentioned and what Siheon recalled were surely different, Siheon hurriedly spoke.
“Cha Wonwoo, think carefully.”
“I have thought carefully. That’s why I didn’t hold onto you until the end. I bought time for you to stay out of this dirty, ugly fight.”
Wonwoo’s words hit like a bombshell, as if asking what more there was to be cautious about. Siheon had thought the divorce was forced by Wonwoo’s demands, never imagining there was another reason behind their separation. Preparing to oust Chairman Cha?
“So,” Wonwoo stepped closer.
“When the time comes, you’ll have to rethink things between us too.”
Then he yanked Siheon’s tie, pressing his lips to the spot he’d kissed that morning.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back.”
The brief kiss parted, leaving a declaration of war in its wake. An irresistible, sweet promise.
＊＊＊＊＊
“Hello.”
A 40-billion-won budget. The global OTT project, backed by massive investment, moved at lightning speed the moment Siheon confirmed his participation. As if all casting discussions had already been settled, everyone else was locked in immediately.
True to a project the director had poured years into, preparations beyond casting were complete, making the pre-production period feel short.
Today was a meeting at the drama’s production company conference room with the director, writer, and his co-star. More than a simple meeting, it was a chance for the two leads to read through scenes from episodes one and two, flesh out their characters, and test their chemistry.
“Hey, Actor Kang’s here?”
Stepping inside, Siheon was warmly greeted by Director Yoo and Writer Cho. Marriage to a third-generation chaebol. Divorce announced after two years. Followed by tabloid scandals. Sympathetic looks poured onto Siheon, who’d lived through drama-worthy plotlines. But he flashed a bright smile and held out two shopping bags.
“Been doing well? These are bribes to say ‘please take care of me.’”
“You sent heaps of ginseng sets and premium tonics every holiday—what’d you bring now?”
“Writer-nim, yours is incense and a holder. I saw on SNS you light some whenever you’re stuck writing. The incense is your usual scent, and the holder’s carved with a landscape painting. Looked cool, so I got it.”
“Good heavens, this is Master Hwa’s work! ‘Looked cool’—this is hard to get!”
The wooden carving exuded both elegance and restraint. The holder, featuring a phoenix spreading its wings in a landscape painting, released smoke that enveloped the mountains in mist when lit—a breathtaking sight. Crafted by Master Hwa, a national intangible cultural heritage artisan, it wouldn’t have been acquired without CEO Heo’s connections.
Writer Cho looked at the gift with a touched expression. Director Yoo, who’d been peering curiously at her present, opened his own bag.
“Liquor?”
The man’s lips curved into a wide grin. Like Cho’s gift, it was a rare whiskey, sourced from Heo’s collection.
“Just take it all, rob me blind.”
Heo had laughed wryly but didn’t seem too upset.
Beaming, the director and writer set the bags down and led Siheon into the conference room. The table was laden with simple snacks, water, and sparkling water.
“Speak up if you need coffee. We upgraded to a fancy machine this time.”
“Oh, my throat gets parched during readings. Coffee makes it worse. Water’s fine.”
“Right, right. We’re always eating, sleeping, writing, and shooting—same old. But how’s Actor Kang been?”
“Well… a bit spectacular, I guess.”
Summing up recent events, the director and writer nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, it’s been quite spectacular. You’ve been through a lot, our Actor Kang.”
Smiling instead of answering, Siheon took an empty seat and glanced around. Catching the meaning in his look, Writer Cho said.
“Actor Seo’s in the parking lot.”
Seo Minjae. His co-star for the global OTT drama. While Siheon focused on films with occasional dramas, Seo was a drama-centric actor.
“You’re both always leads, so you’ve never crossed paths in a project. But somehow you’re working together now? Fans are gonna lose it.”
As Cho said, they’d only heard of each other in passing. In this small industry, meeting face-to-face was a first. The thought of a new colleague stirred habitual anxiety, but Siheon soothed himself inwardly.
Now that I’ve revealed my trait, I don’t need to stress about hiding from anyone. Just be careful.
He was fine with Jinseok since they already knew each other, but the reality of working with a stranger kept his nerves from settling.
“I’ll step out for a sec.”
Unable to sit still, Siheon left the room and headed for the restroom, planning to splash cold water on his face.
The production company had moved to a new building after back-to-back drama hits, and the corridor finishes and restroom doors were dazzlingly ornate. Lost in scattered thoughts, he reached for the restroom handle when the door swung open, and a man stepped out.
“Oh.”
“Uh.”
Similar sounds escaped both men.
Fair, smooth skin, sharp features, and a sultry red tinge around his eyes. A vaguely cool impression.
Seo Minjae.
In person, he was far more striking than on screen. Unlike Siheon’s casual attire, Seo looked like he’d just come from another schedule.
Locking eyes, they blinked at each other before simultaneously saying, “Hello,” and exchanging greetings.
Seo Minjae, blocking the restroom entrance, crinkled his eyes. His smile was so radiant it felt like flowers bloomed on his face. His vibe’s totally different when he smiles versus when he doesn’t, Siheon thought, genuinely impressed. Then a playful voice tickled his ear.
“Sunbae-nim, you don’t remember me, do you?”
“Huh?”
“We met before. Oh, it’s fine if you don’t recall. We’ll get close now, right?”
What was with this friendliness? Unfazed by Siheon’s furrowed brow, Seo grinned warmly and sidled up next to him.
Seo’s pale arm slipped between Siheon’s left arm and side. Suddenly linked arm-in-arm, Siheon was dumbfounded by the whirlwind progression, like skipping the buildup in a story’s arc.
“Seo Minjae-ssi… you don’t seem shy.”
Snapping out of it, Siheon spoke, letting his discomfort show plainly as he gently freed his arm. Seo’s crinkled eyes widened.
“Me? I’m super shy, but I seem outgoing? That’s a relief. Honestly, I’m used to you since I see you every day.”
“Every day?”
What was that supposed to mean? Siheon looked puzzled as Seo rummaged through his pocket, pulled out his phone, and thrust the screen forward. The lit display was filled with a familiar face.
Siheon’s own.
A cropped, high-res photo from a past awards ceremony photo wall. Stunned into silence, Seo asked glumly.
“Don’t you like this picture?”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
Was there a hidden camera for a making-of? A surprise for his comeback? Siheon glanced around. Nothing seemed off. So everything that just happened was real?
“I’m your fan, sunbae-nim. Remember the fan signing at the department store for that sportswear ad? I was there!”
“That was ages ago…”
“Yeah, exactly!”
The reply came before Siheon finished.
“I was an idol trainee back then. I almost got kicked out for skipping practice to go to your signing. Anyway, it’s not just my phone—my laptop and computer wallpapers are all you too! I’m in your fan club, and I have tons of merch. Oh, could you maybe sign all my stuff if you visit my place later?”
Seo, eyes half-crazed, linked arms with Siheon again.
“I even pushed for Writer Cheon’s drama just to work with you.”
He leaned his captivating face on Siheon’s shoulder, lifted it, met his eyes, smiled—a whirlwind of actions. Siheon shook him off with a bit more force.
“The director and writer are waiting inside. Go greet them first.”
Not giving him a chance to grab again, Siheon bolted into the restroom. Inside a stall, he shut the lid and plopped down. The tension was gone, replaced by an incredulous chuckle.
I’ve never met such an intense fan. This is wild.
Rubbing his face dry, Siheon recalled a critical fact. If he got caught in some weird making-of with that guy, it’d be trouble. Official or not, Cha Wonwoo, who tracked everything about Siheon’s activities, would lose it if he saw something like that.
Gotta keep my distance. At least Seo was a beta, thankfully. With that thought, Siheon washed his hands and headed back to the conference room.
What if Seo Minjae acted like a total nutcase in front of Director Yoo and Writer Cho? Siheon had worried about it, but thankfully, Seo seemed to have some professional awareness, and the script reading went smoothly. Not just smoothly—the reading, meant to test their chemistry, soon felt like they were on set, evoking an intense sense of immersion.
A man named ‘K,’ whose identity was erased for mysterious reasons, and ‘Jihoon,’ an NIS agent digging into the source of an unidentified ‘drug’ smuggled into South Korea. The drama, titled Fruit of Good and Evil, centered on the fight and friendship between these two men.
In the project, Siheon played ‘K,’ a black ops agent whose identity was wiped by the NIS, while Seo Minjae played ‘Jihoon,’ an NIS agent determined to cut off the source and distribution of the drug called ‘Fruit of Good and Evil.’
The two actors’ performances, so engrossed they barely had time to sip water, carried through to the final scene of episode two.
＊＊＊＊＊
A quiet midnight cathedral in a secluded area.
Entering, Jihoon spots the back of K sitting on a pew and stops.
“What’s this?”
Seo Minjae, as Jihoon, spoke first. Hearing him, K turned his upper body, resting his chin on the armrest to reply. To embody K, Siheon propped his chin on the table and spoke.
“We keep running into each other, huh? What are the odds?”
“There’s a saying where I work: if you keep crossing paths with someone, the first time’s an accident, the second’s a coincidence, the third’s—”
“—*an enemy.”
“How did you…”
“There’s another saying where you work, isn’t there? A failed operation gets exposed; a successful one stays buried.”
“…!”
Sitting upright, K slowly rose. Two agents, bound by different fates, faced each other half-shrouded in shadows. Then K spoke.
“I’m living proof of a successful operation. Thoroughly buried.”
At that moment, stained glass windows shattered as armed men stormed in, red laser pointers covering K’s body. One wrong move, and he’d be riddled with bullets—a perilous situation. Yet K raised his hands, grinning with ease. A close-up on his nonchalant face marked the end of episode two!
＊＊＊＊＊
Siheon erased the smile he’d summoned per the stage directions and lifted his head. Meeting Seo Minjae’s eyes across from him, unlike their performance, this time Seo flashed a confident grin.
Director Yoo and Writer Cho clapped, praising their acting. They’d met to discuss character interpretation, but there was no need—the performance was beyond satisfying, they said. While the director and writer briefly discussed the project, Seo Minjae winked and quietly asked.
“Isn’t this super fun? I brought all the scripts—wanna keep going up to episode four? We’ve got scripts through eight, so we could even go all the way.”
“You got time, Minjae-ssi?”
Siheon was in comeback prep mode, but Seo was a busy actor in his prime. He’d likely squeezed this reading into a packed schedule.
“Of course! Time’s something you make. Oh, but there’s one condition.”
A condition after bringing it up? Siheon frowned instinctively, and Σeo quickly added.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“What is it? I’ll hear you out.”
“Drop the formalities with me, grab a meal, have a drink. I want a one-on-one fan meeting.”
“Today?”
“Yeah! Strike while the iron’s hot, right? We’re already here—do some acting, eat, drink. Three birds, one stone.”
Normally, Siheon would’ve declined, but acting again after so long was thrilling, almost electrifying. The excitement lingered in his gut, refusing to fade.
His resolve to keep distance from Seo had somehow blurred.
Fine, what’s the big deal about sharing a meal? A drink? I’ll just wet my lips. If it’s just a side drink with food, I won’t get drunk.
As temptation threatened to override reason, the caution honed from years of hiding his trait jabbed sharply at his side. Get a grip.
Clinging to his senses, Siheon quickly added.
“But I pick the place.”
Dropping formalities as Seo wished and giving a positive reply, the guy bounced on his feet, nodding eagerly. The pure heart of a fan ready to follow his idol anywhere. The director and writer smiled warmly at the two top stars eager to rehearse.
“Sunbae-nim, I’m seriously so happy right now. Shall we jump to episode three?”
Seo flipped open the script with a glance, and Siheon nodded immediately.
He’d forgotten his phone was still in airplane mode to avoid interruptions during the reading.
＊＊＊＊＊
“Sunbae-nim, you worked hard today.”
“We read together—what’s that about?”
Seo Minjae gazed at Siheon, who pulled out a chair across from him, with a look of pure bliss. A one-on-one with sunbae-nim. Drinking together. At a craft beer bar where sunbae-nim was spotted with friends!
The place, which reserved rooms for regulars, had small balconies in each. With the large windows open, a gentle breeze wafted in.
Perfect for privacy while feeling like drinking outdoors, it was a spot Siheon occasionally visited with Byun Haewon.
Sitting in a second-floor room, feeling the cool night air, Seo’s heart swelled with gratitude for his luck.
“Oh, but.”
Flipping through the menu of a craft beer bar boasting global selections, Siheon looked up.
“I can’t drink right now.”
“What? Why?”
Was he leaving? Seo straightened, startled. Whatever his expression was, Siheon waved it off.
“No, not leaving—I’m on some meds.”
“Oh… like health tonics?”
“Something like that.”
Fair enough. After all the emotional and physical strain, Siheon deserved every rare tonic out there. Seo only felt bad he couldn’t brew it himself.
“You could’ve just said no, then.”
“Your eyes didn’t look like they’d take a no.”
Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, Seo chuckled. That Siheon came despite not being able to drink was touching.
So kind.
Feeling shy, Seo lowered his gaze to the menu and pointed to a section.
“They’ve got great non-alcoholic beers here! Sunbae-nim, you can have these.”
Afraid Siheon might change his mind, Seo hit the call button and rattled off orders when the server arrived.
After ordering hearty snacks, the server soon returned with a tray. Each beer was poured into cups tailored to its flavor profile, served at the perfect temperature.
“Sunbae-nim, cheers, cheers!”
One hand holding his phone, the other a beer glass, Seo shouted excitedly. He was filming to capture the thrill of the clink.
“Cheers!”
Without any fancy toast, they clinked glasses and chugged. It went down so smoothly, it was almost sweet. Siheon must’ve felt the same, emptying half his glass and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.
“Wow, sunbae-nim, like a CF live!”
“What?”
“No, just—you’re cool.”
“What’s that about? This non-alcoholic stuff tastes pretty legit.”
Look at him changing the subject, so shy. Seo wished he had lenses to record every bit of Siheon. Half wanting to keep it to himself, half wanting to share with other fans who adored Siheon. If he posted a clip of Siheon wiping beer from his lips, they’d go wild. Gotta settle for something else. Curling up to seem harmless, Seo leaned toward Siheon.
“Sunbae-nim, can I post our cheers on my SNS? Your face isn’t in it!”
“Go ahead. What’s the big deal about grown adults toasting?”
With permission, Seo dove into his SNS, using pre-set text replacements and special characters.
Mindful of Siheon’s media ordeal—divorce, tabloids, ex-husband’s arranged meeting—he avoided naming him. Just that he was finally, at long last, drinking with a senior he admired, pouring his current joy into the post.
Finishing the upload, Seo grinned broadly. Siheon, picking at colorful snacks, asked about his drinking capacity.
“You drink much?”
“Nah, I’m a lightweight. Total trash at holding liquor. Sunbae-nim, yours is two beers, right? Used to be one.”
Mid-bite, Siheon tilted his head.
“You know stuff like that?”
“It’s basic fan knowledge.”
Siheon smirked and nodded at Seo’s proud look. His limit was indeed two beers, as Seo said. Always cautious because of his trait, he rarely drank socially, so it never grew. His current capacity was thanks to Byun Haewon, a heavy drinker, dragging him around.
“They say it’s not how much you drink, but when and with who. Maybe it’s ‘cause I’m with sunbae-nim? This is delicious! I might break my record today.”
“Don’t get drunk. I can’t handle that.”
“Nah, it’s fine. My manager said he’d pick me up if I called. Got one with a free morning. Sunbae-nim, you sent your manager home—how’ll you get back?”
“I’m on non-alcoholic. I’ll take a taxi.”
What followed was a true one-on-one fan meeting vibe. As if he’d rehearsed from watching fan signings and video call events, Seo unleashed a barrage of cheesy lines.
For example:
“Sunbae-nim, it’s raining right now, you know?”
“Rain?”
Siheon glanced at the open balcony. The clear night sky had not a single cloud.
“No rain. You drunk already?”
“No, no! Being here with sunbae-nim’s giving me a heart attack.”
That kind of thing.
Where did it keep coming from? And even in the midst of it, he didn’t let his acting skills slip.
At first, Siheon felt awkward and embarrassed, but eventually, he laughed, offering commentary on Seo Minjae’s antics, which swung between deadpan and playful charm.
While Seo Minjae put on a one-man show, chattering away, they ordered a few more beers.
“Sunbae-niim…”
By now, a flush of intoxication colored Seo Minjae’s cheeks as he giggled.
“I’m seriously so happy today. You know what? Sunbae-nim, you were just so cool.”
His eyes half-glazed, Siheon thought his tongue had loosened too, but true to his actor’s craft, Seo’s diction and projection remained impeccable even while drunk. The alcohol’s effect, though, couldn’t be helped—his words grew long-winded.
“Sunbae-nim, you were the idol for beta trainees. A beta taking on cool roles meant for alphas? It showed you could make it without a trait. That you could be that cool and charismatic.”
He gave a thumbs-up, saying Siheon was a role model for teenage trainees who envied trait-bearers while secretly resenting them.
“Cool, beautiful—every descriptor belongs to sunbae-nim. For real!”
Seo slammed his glass on the table, suddenly raising his voice.
“Of course, some people probably felt betrayed. They thought you were a beta, but you turned out to be a trait-bearer. But when you revealed you were an omega, I was shocked for, like, a second, and then I thought you were even more amazing. Not a beta but an omega, yet as cool as an alpha. Wow. And I… I was too scared to say anything since my agency told me not to, but seeing you gave me so much comfort. Ugh, I don’t know. Sunbae-nim, you’re the best. Wait, am I drunk?”
Siheon quietly set down his freshly emptied glass, letting out a deflated sound.
“You’re rapping away and then ask me that?”
“Hehe.”
Seo’s body swayed left and right, unable to find balance. Seeing him, Siheon figured it was time to wrap things up.
Rubbing the back of his neck while choosing his words, Siheon let out an “Ah.” At that, Seo’s half-glazed eyes widened, ears perking to catch his revered senior’s next words.
Staring at the damp rim of his wet glass, Siheon muttered.
“I need to shower.”
“Huh?”
Seo let out a startled noise, his swaying body freezing. His tipsy head wasn’t spinning quite right, but he definitely recognized that line.
“Oh, his drinking habit? He barely drinks, so it’s rare to see.”
“I have a drinking habit?”
“Dude, you’re human—of course you’ve got one. What, you think you don’t?”
Byun Haewon had spilled about Siheon’s drinking habit on a variety show promoting Man to Man. The memory flashed through Seo’s mind.
“Is there a place to wash up here?”
With a serious face, Siheon glanced around.
“I gotta shower.”
Kang Siheon’s drinking habit, stage one: obsessing over showering.
It could’ve been passed off as just being fastidious, but knowing Siheon’s trait, Seo vaguely understood why. Maybe he unconsciously acted to wash off any pheromone scent. But more than that…
“Oh no, sunbae-nim’s drunk!”
Seo shouted without realizing he’d spoken aloud. Siheon, too busy looking for a shower, didn’t seem to hear.
Why? How’d he get drunk? Seo’s eyes darted around. His gaze landed on Siheon’s empty glass. He’d definitely ordered non-alcoholic, hadn’t he? Was it from the first glass, or did they mix it up somewhere along the way? It had to be regular beer.
“Sunbae-nim, sunbae-nim.”
Seo frantically reached out. But drunk as he was, his movements were hardly steady. Items on the table toppled over with a clatter. The noise drew Siheon’s attention, and he stared at the table before speaking.
“This… it shouldn’t be all crooked like this.”
Seo clapped both hands over his mouth.
Kang Siheon’s drinking habit, stage two: keeping things in line.
Like a sculptor defying the gods, Siheon began meticulously rearranging the tableware with a grave expression. He’d already entered stage two.
Even drunk, Seo grasped the gravity of the situation and struggled to fish his phone from his pocket. Finally freeing it from the pocket’s grip, fate played a cruel trick—the phone slipped and fell to the floor.
“No!”
Sliding off his chair, Seo crawled under the table. The phone had landed by Siheon’s shoes. He could’ve asked him to pick it up, but too frazzled to think straight, Seo dragged himself forward and reunited with his phone. Lifting his head abruptly, he found himself between Siheon’s legs.
That’s when it happened. Siheon, peering down at Seo’s disheveled hair, asked.
“Are you Yebbi?”
Having triumphantly raised his phone like a trophy, Seo froze, blinking. Drunk as he was, he thought he was hearing things.
“You’re not a puppy?”
“It… wasn’t a hallucination?”
Siheon’s face, asking the question, showed no trace of intoxication. He looked so serious and sober, it was almost scary.
Unknown to Seo—since Byun Haewon never mentioned it on air—was Kang Siheon’s drinking habit, stage three. To explain this quirk, one had to go back to Yebbi, the puppy Siheon raised as a child.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he and Yebbi grew up like brothers. But when Siheon was ten, Yebbi suddenly crossed the rainbow bridge.
The grief was overwhelming. Little Kang Siheon couldn’t go to school, crying like a faucet. Influenced by a popular historical drama at the time, he’d lie on his blanket, butt in the air, smacking the floor with tiny hands.
His mother, finding it both adorable and heart-wrenching, hugged him and soothed him.
“Yebbi loved you so much, Siheon, that he left to come back as a human. He said he’ll find you as a person, and you’ll play together then. If Yebbi comes back to see you, are you gonna be crying like this? Hm?”
With big, teary eyes, sniffling Siheon asked his mom repeatedly if it was true, whether he believed it or not, before finally stopping his tears.
That’s around when he started acting. After losing Yebbi, his mother took her lonely, glum son around to try new experiences and keep him from feeling isolated among others.
As he grew, he stopped believing Yebbi would return as a human, but maybe because the memory was so vivid—or because everyone holds onto a bit of childhood wonder, half-believing, half-doubting—when blackout drunk, Siheon would ask anyone pretty, cute, or clear-eyed, “Are you a puppy?” just like he called Yebbi. According to Byun Haewon, it was terrifying because Siheon showed no signs of being drunk while asking, enough to haunt your dreams.
“Are you a puppy?”
Unaware of this, Seo’s brain short-circuited, froze, and rebooted when he heard the question again, shaking his head.
“I’m not a puppy.”
“Oh, really?”
Seeing Siheon’s faintly disappointed look, Seo’s mind flipped, and he shouted urgently, driven by a fan’s pure desire to know everything about his idol.
“Wait! Hold on!”
“…”
“If I am a puppy… what happens?”
Hearing that the person might be a puppy, Siheon’s blank face lit up. A real puppy…? Seo’s eyes sparkled, nodding eagerly.
“Yes! I’m a puppy!”
In their booze-soaked conversation, in this booze-soaked moment, neither questioned anything. Of course—both were plastered.
Siheon, thinking the guy before him might be Yebbi reincarnated, pulled his lips into a bright smile. As he reached to pat his head in welcome, the sliding door rattled open.
“Haa…”
Panting, a massive figure filled the doorway—Cha Wonwoo.
Unlike his usual suits, he wore a plain white tee, a track jacket, sporty pants, sneakers, and a ball cap shading half his face.
With a look that said he wouldn’t let a single ant escape this scene, he slowly scanned the room.
Seo Minjae, holding a phone, crouched between Siheon’s legs.
Kang Siheon, reaching for the guy’s head.
Slamming the door shut, Cha Wonwoo strode over and grabbed Siheon’s wrist. Despite his menacing aura, the grip was gentle. Siheon stared at the wrist, then alternated looks between the two men, muttering as if it were a secret.
“My gosh… there are two puppies.”
At that, Cha Wonwoo’s face twisted into a scowl. He kicked the table aside to clear space, then glared down at Seo, still sitting cluelessly, and growled.
“Get out.”
Seo Minjae swallowed hard. He was crouched low, while the tall man stood, exuding overwhelming intimidation.
After a tense pause, the man corrected his informal tone, as if it had been a mistake, and gestured with a menacing look.
“Come out.”
Seo Minjae awkwardly stood up through the gap created by the pushed table and studied him.
Dressed casually, about the same age, but with an unmistakable aura. If they’d met in school, Seo might’ve clung to him, calling “Hyung, hyung!” to get close. Not quite like Siheon, but definitely a “cool hyung” vibe.
Admiring the man’s solid build with pure awe, Seo Minjae checked his face and gasped in shock.
“Cha Wonwoo?!”
At a glance, he hadn’t recognized him, but up close, it was unmistakably Cha Wonwoo. The breeze coming through the open balcony felt less cool and more chilling.
How many trait-bearers kept acting like their ex was still their mate post-divorce? Guessing why the man was here, Seo Minjae steadied his spinning vision and pointed accusingly.
“Stalker! Siheon-hyung divorced you!”
He wasn’t in his right mind either. Dropping the “sunbae-nim” he’d used religiously, he blurted out “Siheon-hyung” like he did when fanboying alone.
Cha Wonwoo, who’d been putting a track jacket, cap, and mask on a half-dozing Siheon, snapped back sharply.
“Who’s your hyung?”
He looks ready to kill. Seo Minjae took a step back. Cha Wonwoo, briefly riled by the term, quickly composed himself.
“Didn’t peg you for that type, Seo Minjae-ssi. Disappointing.”
“Huh? When did you ever ‘peg’ me? What’s disappointing?”
Seo Minjae, who’d just called him a stalker, jabbed a finger back at his own chest, making a baffled face. His fans would’ve squealed at how cute it was, but sadly, Cha Wonwoo only scoffed coldly.
“Your trait, Seo Minjae-ssi. Did you properly disclose it to our hyung?”
Cha Wonwoo subtly pulled Siheon’s shoulder, letting his face nestle against his waist. Siheon’s eyes fluttered shut at the familiar warmth and scent.
“Our hyung…?”
But Seo, more shocked by the term than the question, repeated “Our hyung?” in a daze. Another term slipped from Cha Wonwoo’s lips.
“My husband probably didn’t know you’re a recessive alpha when he joined you for drinks. Getting him this drunk is fraud—and a crime.”
Husband. The word was so resolute it almost felt like their divorce was a publicity stunt, and they were still married. His voice carried an extra threat, as if he’d make sure Seo’s actions were deemed criminal if they weren’t already.
“You’re using money and power to threaten hyung, just as I thought!”
Seo didn’t register that his trait had been exposed. Instead, he imagined the humiliation and oppression Siheon must’ve endured married into a chaebol family, fueling his anger.
“You two are divorced. So why are you here clinging to him? How’d you even know he was here?”
“You kindly let me know, Seo Minjae-ssi.”
“Me? When?”
Seo Minjae was clueless.
He didn’t know Cha Wonwoo tracked Siheon’s every move. That he monitored the SNS of the director, writer, and co-star at the script reading. That Siheon’s regular haunts were also Wonwoo’s, and even without Seo’s cheers video, Wonwoo could’ve pinpointed the location using Lee Kang-san, Heo, or other contacts.
Blatantly ignoring the question, Cha Wonwoo wrapped an arm around Siheon’s waist and lifted him. Drunk people are heavy, but holding Siheon, he showed no strain.
Summoning some unknown courage, Seo Minjae staggered forward, blocking the door with arms spread wide.
“No way.”
Cha Wonwoo glared, frowning.
“What’s that?”
“Siheon-hyung said he doesn’t like you—why’re you taking him?”
Siheon had never said such a thing out loud.
At the claim that Kang Siheon disliked him, Cha Wonwoo’s expression turned icy. His face darkened, pheromones starting to surge, but Seo, burning with a sense of duty, didn’t notice.
“Look at how much weight Siheon-hyung’s lost. How much must he have suffered… for that handsome face to be half-gone? It’s a national loss. A national disaster! We need a disaster agency and a control tower. Kang Siheon is protected by Honey Jar.”
Honey Jar was Siheon’s fan club name. (An idea from Heo, not reflecting Siheon’s opinion.)
Early in his career, the fan café held a vote for the name, with two finalists:
Honey Jar vs. Beekeeper.
Beekeeper takes honey for profit, but Honey Jar holds it, symbolizing protection and embrace, so Honey Jar became the fan club’s name.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but stay away from hyung.”
“Seo Minjae-ssi, move while I’m asking nicely.”
Cha Wonwoo was under extreme stress.
No contact with Siheon, dining and drinking with some guy whose trait he didn’t fully know, not coming home. Chasing Siheon’s trail here, Wonwoo battled violent impulses.
The sight upon opening the door was enough to shatter his reason. The only reason he didn’t lose it was because it involved Siheon.
His pheromones churned but didn’t release, suppressed instantly for Siheon’s sake with superhuman restraint.
“Move.”
Seo flinched at the threatening growl, like a large beast, pressing his back flat against the door. Even then, he didn’t forget to parrot the envied “our hyung,” retorting clearly.
“Let our hyung go first.”
“Our hyung?”
Somewhere, a snap seemed to echo. As if the affectionate term was a signal, suppressed images, conversations, anxiety, fear, anger, and jealousy flooded Cha Wonwoo like a tidal wave. The dam he’d barely held broke, emotions crashing in.
His body tried to release pheromones to ease the stress, but against his willpower, it was futile.
Unable to vent even pheromones, pushed to his limit.
Blood trickled from Cha Wonwoo’s nose.
“…”
“…”
Sensing something off, Cha Wonwoo quietly wiped under his nose with the back of his hand. Bright red blood smeared. He murmured calmly.
“Fuck.”
Words spilled through gritted teeth, fragmented.
Fuck, really, what a mess.
Tilting his head back to the ceiling, Cha Wonwoo took a deep breath. Inhaling sharply, exhaling long, he forced out the jealousy and anger piercing his chest. Closing and opening his eyes, he turned.
“Seo Minjae-ssi.”
Tagged as part of the “mess” or “all of it,” Seo, dazed, trembled slightly when called. He was certain Wonwoo didn’t show this raw, rough side to Siheon. Would sunbae-nim believe me if I told him?
Scared, Seo answered politely.
“Yes… you called?”
Pulling Siheon closer in his arms, Cha Wonwoo said.
“I’m holding back because you’re his colleague.”
Polite but still out of it, Seo asked.
“Uh, so… what happens if you don’t hold back?”
Cold, piercing eyes bore into Seo.
“Wouldn’t it be your blood flowing instead of mine?”
“R-really? But isn’t that a threat? Did you threaten Siheon-hyung like that too?”
I did, I have. Seo added timidly.
Cha Wonwoo, calming himself by gazing at the night view beyond the balcony, was about to snap back when Siheon suddenly mumbled something.
“…”
“…”
Both men zeroed in on Siheon’s words.
“No way.”
Opening bleary eyes, Siheon scolded Seo.
“Our puppy doesn’t bite me.”
He meant Yebbi, the dog from his past, but Seo, clueless, assumed it was a couple’s nickname. The thrill of learning something other fans didn’t know mixed with deep musings on how love could tame even a beast like this guy into being called “puppy.”
Meanwhile, Cha Wonwoo, knowing the full context, seemed to merge with Yebbi, pride blooming on his shadowed face under the cap. He looked at Seo with a smug expression.
Seo hesitated, then spoke nervously.
“You two… seem closer than I thought. As a Honey Jar member since day one, I’m not thrilled, but if hyung’s happy… wishing for his happiness is a true fan’s duty.”
Finally stepping aside, Seo collapsed dramatically, as if he’d fulfilled his gatekeeper role.
Fearing Seo might fake a concussion to whine to Siheon, Cha Wonwoo swiftly extended a long leg, catching Seo’s head with the top of his sneaker.
“Secretary Yang, you out there?”
Calling out, Yang entered from waiting outside. Cha Wonwoo nodded toward the head on his foot.
“Take care of it.”
Even then, Seo twitched at “take care of it,” muttering incoherent sleep-talk.
“My babies waiting at home… still need hyung’s signature… merch… desperately waiting…”
Pulling his foot away, Seo’s head hit the floor with a thunk. Looking down, Cha Wonwoo warned darkly.
“Seo Minjae-ssi, you’d better keep quiet about today forever. Forgetting it entirely would be even better.”
Death threat, survive, with hyung, weak Honey Jar, sorry. Broken sentences mixed with liquor breath from Seo’s mouth. Soon, he went completely limp. As Yang bent to hoist him, she glanced at Cha Wonwoo with concern.
“Your nosebleed, Department Head…”
“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”
Cha Wonwoo lifted his track jacket, wiping under his nose carelessly. His t-shirt rose, revealing chiseled abs.
Yang stood, carrying Seo.
“Understood. I’ve contacted Seo Minjae-ssi’s manager on the way—they should be here by now. I’ll hand him over and drive you home, Department Head.”
“No need. Deal with that guy and go home.”
Taxi fare would be expensed. He added that only Driver Kim should come tomorrow morning, and Yang could start in the afternoon—compensation for being called out late for personal matters.
“Oh, and Department Head, I’ve paid for the utensils and glass Actor Kang used. They’ll be disposed of, so no worries.”
Cha Wonwoo glanced at the utensils and glass on the table. Anything Siheon’s lips or pheromones touched couldn’t be left carelessly. Too many weirdos out there. Siheon would call him the craziest if he knew.
Ignoring his growing obsession, Cha Wonwoo thanked Yang for her work, hoisted Siheon onto his back to avoid attention on the way to the parking lot, and left the room.
A cool night breeze began blowing through the open terrace window again.
Siheon had no doubt he was swimming in the ocean. Swish, swish. Gentle waves pushed and pulled his body. Or maybe he was soaring through the air. A floating sensation. Then he landed softly somewhere.
Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself on a bed. And there, right before him, was Yebbi.
“Puppy.”
Without hesitation, Siheon reached out, stroking the dark hair. Ticklish, Yebbi shook it off.
“Why?”
When Siheon asked with a hint of hurt, Yebbi settled down. Good boy, so pretty. Praising him, Siheon noticed Yebbi’s ears redden. Then he saw red stains on Yebbi’s clothes. Was he hurt? A sudden fear gripped Siheon, and he propped himself up on his elbows.
“Yebbi, are you hurt?”
“Why’re you sitting up? Lie back down. I’m not hurt, but you must be dizzy.”
A cool hand touched his forehead. When did our Yebbi’s hands get so big? Not a bit of fur either.
“You worried about hyung?”
Like he used to soothe Yebbi, a gentle touch eased Siheon back down. Sprawling out, he blinked, and the ceiling spun wildly.
“Yebbi, make that stop.”
“Alright.”
Yebbi’s large hand covered Siheon’s eyes. The spinning ceiling actually stopped. Everything went dark.
Siheon fumbled for the hand over his eyes. His fingers, lightly tickling, settled on Yebbi’s hand, tracing bulging veins and a sturdy wrist.
“Yebbi became human.”
This wasn’t a metaphor. Yebbi had truly reincarnated to find him. With his eyes and nose covered, Siheon giggled under the palm.
“Puppy, did you really come to see hyung?”
“…God, you’re driving me crazy.”
Ignoring someone’s strained sigh, Siheon sank into his thoughts.
How hard must it have been for a dog to become human? Dogs aren’t big like bears or tigers—how much pain did that tiny body endure to grow human-sized? After all that suffering, he came to find hyung.
Tears welled up suddenly.
That spring came to mind. The tiny puppy whimpering as it nestled into his small arms.
“Is hyung crying?”
Yebbi asked, sounding baffled. When the hand covering his eyes lifted, the world brightened. Siheon stretched both arms toward the human Yebbi.
“Come here, Yebbi.”
“…Hyung, what’re you gonna do tomorrow?”
Grumbling but obedient, Yebbi leaned down, his ears red. As the large figure approached, Siheon hugged him tightly, showering kisses everywhere.
“Wait, hyung.”
Kisses landed on his eyebrows, nose, cheeks. When it was time for the lips, Yebbi turned away.
“Hyung, that’s enough.”
Siheon, kissing in a drunken haze, pouted.
“Why? You don’t like hyung’s kisses?”
“Dislike them? It’s not that. God, really.”
Yebbi tossed his cap aside and swept back his fallen hair. Yebbi became a handsome human. Staring into his dark, sparkling eyes, Siheon said.
“Puppy, there’s nothing hyung wouldn’t do for you.”
“…This won’t do. Hyung, sleep now. That’s how you’ll save me.”
Yebbi shook off Siheon’s hand and stepped back. Siheon bolted upright, but as his vision spun, he instinctively collapsed forward. His face half-buried in the soft bed.
Yebbi, who’d moved away, rushed back, bending down. Their eye levels misaligned, Yebbi’s lower half filled Siheon’s view. Our Yebbi…
As Yebbi spoke, Siheon opened his mouth too.
“Hyung, you okay?”
“Is our Yebbi in heat?”
Silence fell over the room.
Siheon didn’t even realize his use of “heat” caused the prolonged quiet. He just blinked slowly as his vision swirled.
In his foggy mind, Cha Wonwoo and Yebbi tangled together, their presence tumbling chaotically. Cha Wonwoo was Yebbi, and Yebbi was Cha Wonwoo.
His thoughts were irrational. Both were precious to him, so there was nothing he wouldn’t do for either.
“Hmm… want hyung to help?”
Face half-buried in the bed, his words slurred but their meaning clear.
“Ha… hyung, what’re you gonna do tomorrow?”
A heavy sigh came from beside him. The bed dipped slightly, and someone leaned over him. A firm, warm chest pressed against his back.
“How’s hyung gonna help?”
A low, pressed voice and hot breath grazed his ear, sending a spine-tingling thrill straight to his head. A sensation familiar from the past two years but forgotten in recent months. The sexual desire he’d suppressed since deciding on divorce, invisible until now, seized a tiny crack fueled by drunkenness and overpowered him with terrifying force.
Siheon’s grip tightened on the sheets, fragmented words spilling out.
“Just… a sec.”
“Hyung, when have we ever done this ‘just for a sec’?”
The playful tone belied the lack of ease in the other’s ragged breaths.
As Siheon shifted heavily, a gentle hand rubbed his earlobe softly. The faint scar from a piercing, long since closed, was touched, and his body heated instantly.
In this state, Siheon’s subconscious sought Cha Wonwoo. Having hidden his trait and posed as a beta his whole life, Wonwoo was the only person he’d ever shared sexual intimacy with, as a man or an omega.
“Cha Wonwoo…”
The name slipped out before he could rein it in. The chest pressed against his back heaved, breaths growing rough.
The hand on his earlobe vanished, and moist lips engulfed it. Delicate flesh was rolled recklessly in a hot mouth.
“Mmm…”
Amid sloppy, wet sounds, Cha Wonwoo’s low groans mingled. Each time he moaned, Siheon’s body jolted like it was struck by lightning. Burying his flushed eyes in his hand, Siheon managed.
“Move… a bit.”
Cha Wonwoo, who’d been sucking and nibbling until his earlobe swelled red, bit down grumpily before pulling away. He didn’t forget to complain, breathing heavily.
“Ha, hyung, you said you’d help.”
As his body reacted, the jumble of Yebbi and Cha Wonwoo in Siheon’s mind cleared, leaving only Cha Wonwoo. Familiar scent, familiar honeymoon home, familiar bed. Everything was like the days they’d whispered love and shared it daily.
“Hyung’s scent… I love it so much.”
Cha Wonwoo traced Siheon’s earlobe with his nose, then buried it deep in his pheromone gland, inhaling. Even though only a faint scent would linger in a closed gland, he panted as if bathed in pheromones.
Sweet sounds thick with obvious arousal filled the room, and Cha Wonwoo’s now-hard center rubbed against Siheon’s hips. Every point of contact burned scalding hot. The heat was intense, like a fever heralding a rut.
Startled by the higher-than-usual body temperature, Siheon couldn’t help but worry, even drunk. Was something wrong with him? Was he sick? His heated body cooled instantly, like being doused with cold water.
Cha Wonwoo, who’d been kissing, licking, and nibbling Siheon’s pheromone gland and smooth nape, froze the moment he sensed Siheon’s body tense subtly.
“Hyung…?”
The cautious question ended with only the breaths he couldn’t suppress. Misinterpreting Siheon’s change, he steadied his breathing and spoke.
“I wasn’t planning to go all the way. I’m not a beast who’d take advantage of someone drunk. I remember the doctor saying we shouldn’t.”
His hoarse voice sounded like a beast growling, wary of scolding but displeased.
Letting out a long sigh, he rolled over, flopping beside Siheon, muttering.
“I even avoided kissing so I wouldn’t get in trouble later.”
Siheon, amused by the not-unlikeable grumbling, slowly turned his heavy head to look.
Cha Wonwoo glared at the ceiling like it was his enemy, brows furrowed. His black training pants hid any dampness, but the outline of his erect penis stood out starkly.
Though covered, Siheon knew exactly the shape, feel, and scent of that swollen organ.
By the same logic, he wasn’t much different. Instinctively pooling saliva, a smoldering sensation below. Swallowing a moan, Siheon changed the subject.
“You sick?”
“If hyung touches me, it’ll feel better.”