WGD Ch 9
by soapaHis concern had been about the unusually high body temperature, but the guy seemed to take it as asking if he was in pain from his erection.
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“Then what?”
“…Never mind. Want me to touch you?”
“No. I’m just saying—I’m not a beast.”
Whatever it was, Siheon couldn’t stand seeing him in pain and asked, only to be rebuffed. Even as the room spun, Siheon looked at him with surprise and added unnecessarily.
“…But Yebbi is a beast.”
Cha Wonwoo whipped his head, previously tilted toward the ceiling, to face him.
“That damn Yebbi.”
His dark eyes lingered on Siheon’s face for a long time. If gazes had density, Cha Wonwoo’s intense stare would be the darkest, heaviest one right now.
Feeling the heat still simmering in those eyes, Siheon licked his dry lips. Cha Wonwoo, watching the tongue glide over soft lips and vanish, let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“Like you said, I’m a beast.”
If you knew what I was thinking, you’d freak out and run. Whether it was a mutter to himself or meant for Siheon, the words scattered like a sigh. Siheon should’ve let them pass, but drunk, he latched on and asked.
“What were you thinking?”
Only after asking did he wonder if it was a mistake. Expecting an embarrassing answer, he averted his gaze, naturally landing on Cha Wonwoo’s Adam’s apple.
“…”
“…”
No reply came despite waiting. Just as Siheon started to lift his downcast eyes, Cha Wonwoo’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbed, and a tight voice rasped out.
“Want to put my cock in your mouth. Or take yours in mine.”
Siheon slowly raised his head to meet Cha Wonwoo’s eyes. The gaze was desperate. Hungry and greedy, aimed solely at Siheon.
If dizziness came from liquor before, now he felt intoxicated by eyes that wanted him so purely, without pretense.
As Siheon’s lips parted in a daze, Cha Wonwoo’s eyes darkened further. Covering his eyes with his arm, he groaned.
“I must be crazy. It’s not even my rut—why can’t I control myself? You’re the one who drank. Ha… I’m losing it.”
Rubbing his flushed face with his palm, Cha Wonwoo paused before speaking.
“Hyung, I’m really sorry, but I swear I won’t touch you—can I just do it alone like this once?”
Isn’t there an option to handle it in the bathroom? Something felt off about his behavior, but Siheon’s thoughts couldn’t go further. How could he say no when the guy, looking like a vulnerable beast, pleaded?
In the haze of drunkenness and heat, Siheon closed his eyes and nodded.
“Go ahead. It’s fine.”
The moment he gave permission, the rustle of fabric followed as pants and underwear came off. That sound alone painted a vivid picture.
The heavy cock springing free with a thud as the underwear dropped, its tip already slick despite not being touched. A large hand gripping it roughly.
The images unfolded relentlessly in his mind.
The more the thumb rubbed the wet tip, the more sticky precum would flow, coating the hand. Until the white fluid made it slick enough to move easily. Then Cha Wonwoo would lick his lower lip, as if savoring, while carelessly spreading the slickness over the shaft with his palm. After that, he’d grip it hard, veins popping on his hand, and start moving up and down.
During their marriage, when Siheon’s schedule or stamina led to handplay instead of penetration, Cha Wonwoo would clutch his fiercely erect cock, swallowing rough breaths with a predatory gaze.
His sex was intense but fundamentally tender.
But when masturbating while watching Siheon, it was always wild and impatient. His hand treated his cock harshly, as if scolding its eagerness to enter. That ferocious touch turned endlessly gentle only when caressing Siheon.
“Ugh…”
A groan Cha Wonwoo couldn’t suppress slipped through ragged breaths. The sound pierced Siheon’s ears, stoking his arousal. The thrill shot up his spine, spreading through his body. Heat bloomed wherever his body responded to the guy.
The urge hit suddenly. He knew looking at Cha Wonwoo now would be stimulating, but maybe because of the alcohol, he wanted to capture every moment of him.
Siheon slowly opened his eyes.
“Ah…”
Their eyes locked, and Cha Wonwoo exhaled a labored breath, unable to contain his excitement. His gleaming gaze seemed to swallow fire. At the louder slick sounds, Siheon glanced down.
Cha Wonwoo was stroking his cock, pressed tight against his stomach. Judging by the thick, white semen around, he’d already come once when their eyes met. Yet his cock stood rigid, like a weapon waiting to be wielded violently. Each rough jerk of his arm sent the thick, massive shaft sliding through his large fist.
“Ah, hyung… I… pheromones… no, no. It’s not that.”
Siheon looked up at the desperate voice calling him. Wanting to release pheromones but holding back, fearing it’d harm Siheon, veins pulsed at Cha Wonwoo’s temples and neck. Biting his teeth, he let out a pained groan.
“God, ugh, I’m going insane. Fuck, maybe you’re right—am I in heat?”
Mocking his own desire as animalistic, he let out a bitter laugh, soon drowned by groans.
“Ugh, hyung…?”
Without realizing, Siheon reached out, brushing back Cha Wonwoo’s fallen hair. Was it his imagination that the guy’s pupils seemed to shrink?
“No, don’t touch me. I said I wouldn’t touch you.”
A hoarse voice rang out. The words, brimming with restraint, met Siheon’s drunken, hazy retort.
“Who said to touch you? I’ll just touch myself.”
“Hyung, that’s not fair—ugh.”
Cha Wonwoo gasped as if choking when Siheon lightly tapped the tip of the cock he’d been thrusting into his fist. Not stopping there, Siheon naturally pushed his hand aside and took hold of it.
“Hgh, hyung, please.”
Was he begging to be squeezed or pushed away? Even he seemed unsure.
The thick cock was too much for one hand. Bringing the other, Siheon clasped both hands and applied gentle pressure. Cha Wonwoo, instinctively bucking his hips, bit back a curse. Though muffled by panting, he immediately furrowed his brow, studying Siheon’s face.
“Hyung…”
“What? My hands no good?”
“Ha, hyung, really.”
Cha Wonwoo chuckled, clenching his jaw.
“I kept my promise. Don’t complain tomorrow.”
Meeting his intense gaze, Siheon swallowed hard.
Cha Wonwoo propped himself on one arm, leaning diagonally, and began moving slowly, as if exploring.
Then, with a thud, he thrust his cock forward. Siheon’s hands tightened in surprise, and a guttural growl, like a mating beast, escaped Cha Wonwoo’s lips. When pulling back, he frowned regretfully, as if Siheon’s hands were a hole he couldn’t escape; when thrusting, he drove in with full force.
Yet he never touched Siheon. His arm braced on the bed and hand gripping the sheets twitched, baring the battle between desire and restraint.
“Hyung, I’m, keeping, my promise, so, please, ugh, do one thing for me.”
Cha Wonwoo’s voice broke with each thrust.
“Tell me to come, please, okay?”
Every muscle in his body—abs, thighs, calves—rippled with excitement. His sculpted frame moved like an obscene wave, the slick sounds quickening.
“Um… that’s kinda embarrassing.”
Siheon shyly refused.
“Ha, driving me crazy.”
Panting heavily, Cha Wonwoo raked his free hand through his hair. His hips kept moving erratically.
“Ugh, ha, even that, turns me on.”
Balancing his aroused body, Cha Wonwoo kicked the sheets aside, thrusting even harder. His rock-hard thighs swelled as if about to burst.
“Hyung, ah, ugh, hyung…”
The force of his thrusts—thud, thud—made Siheon’s palms tingle. Oddly, the faint pain brought pleasure along with it.
“Ugh, ha… ah, feels good, hyung.”
As the cock rubbed, sticky white fluid melted in the friction’s heat, slipping between fingers and dripping down the backs of both hands. Slick, slick—viscous, wet sounds, like entering and exiting a hole, filled the room. Gripping the slippery cock tightly to keep hold, Cha Wonwoo reacted instantly.
“Hyung, why’re you squeezing, so tight… ugh, it’s like, your hands are, a hole, ugh, feels like, my cock’s, gonna break.”
Speeding up with rapid thrusts—thud, thud, thud—he spoke in a fevered voice.
“Ugh, ha, hyung, call my name.”
Siheon answered without hesitation.
“Sure, Yebbi-ya.”
“Ha… not Yebbi, Wonwoo.”
Cha Wonwoo, mid-motion, raised an eyebrow, catching the slip. His sulky expression was adorable, unable to hide his annoyance. When Siheon only laughed without responding, he urged again.
“Call my name. Ha, I think I can finish if you do.”
Anyone could hear the desperation in his voice. The raw thrill of Cha Wonwoo desiring only him swept through Siheon. Trying not to pant, he called his name like reciting a precious word.
“Alright, Wonwoo-ya.”
At the sound, Cha Wonwoo let out a long, ecstatic groan, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Ah, I’m going, crazy, hyung…”
The last syllable stretched, almost sounding like “hyuuung.”
“Ha, ha.”
As time passed, his movements grew rougher. Watching sweat soak his body, Siheon’s heart raced like he’d sprinted full speed. Between quickening breaths, Cha Wonwoo spoke urgently.
“Ha, can’t hold back anymore.”
He began bucking wildly, his rhythm utterly animalistic. Only ragged gasps escaped his parted lips. Even as Siheon’s grip loosened halfway, overwhelmed, Cha Wonwoo didn’t stop. No—he couldn’t stop.
“Hyung, watch me, watch me come.”
“Okay, I’m watching…”
For a moment, their eyes held only each other.
“I’m watching, Wonwoo-ya.”
The instant his name was called, Cha Wonwoo shuddered, clenching his abs and throwing his head back. A deep, rich scent flooded Siheon’s lungs.
Panting, Cha Wonwoo steadied his breathing.
“Ugh, ha.”
After the fierce energy subsided, a languid Cha Wonwoo chuckled softly, shaking his head as if he found the situation absurd. Then, suddenly, he placed a hand on his pheromone gland and fell silent. A dark flicker passed through his thoughtful eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
Siheon, watching, asked. Cha Wonwoo brushed it off as nothing and got up.
“I’ll grab something to clean your hands. If you’re tired, sleep first, hyung. I’ll take care of it.”
Without giving Siheon a chance to dodge, he quickly kissed his hair and went to the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of water on a towel echoed faintly, like rain. Listening to the distant noise, Siheon felt a wave of exhaustion. The one who should be worn out was someone else, yet he felt drained, as if he’d done the work.
Clenching and unclenching his sticky hands, the thick semen stretched and shrank with the motion. A meaningless act, but perhaps because of Cha Wonwoo’s pheromones in it, his body relaxed, and sleep crept in. Siheon didn’t fight it and closed his eyes.
Shortly after, he felt someone gently repositioning him to lie flat. Then a towel, warm as body heat, carefully cleaned between his fingers. The touch, always infinitely tender with Siheon, was familiar.
After wiping Siheon’s hands again with a dry towel, Cha Wonwoo hurriedly showered, returned, and burrowed into Siheon’s chest. Nuzzling his nape affectionately, he whispered in a soft, vulnerable voice.
“Hyung, hold me.”
Even half-asleep, Siheon offered his arms, and Cha Wonwoo sank deeper into them.
＊＊＊＊＊
The next morning—or rather, dawn, as the sky beyond the window was still bluish.
Siheon couldn’t tell if he woke because his arm was numb, a headache, or nausea. First, he checked the cause of the numbness.
The culprit was Cha Wonwoo, effortlessly handsome even in sleep. Despite their size difference, he’d curled his large frame to fit into Siheon’s embrace.
“…What’s this?”
Frowning, barely able to open his eyes.
What’s going on? What happened? Why’s he sleeping so close?
Groaning as he freed his arm, Siheon froze. A chill ran down his spine. It was instinctive, like the eerie feeling of waking late for school without needing to check the clock.
Throwing on a bathrobe, Siheon shuffled to the living room and stared out the window.
The pale dawn was giving way to sunrise. The new day wasn’t welcome at all. Memories of yesterday, though fragmented, clung to his mind, resurfacing one by one.
Clutching his head, Siheon’s face grew gaunt.
The flood of memories, especially what happened in bed, was mortifying.
Cha Wonwoo was always desperate to bare everything to him. During sex, he’d beg Siheon to look at him, acting like a single blink would kill him.
In the past, it was sexy and sweet, but they weren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Yet last night, he’d watched that kind of thing.
As fragments of the scene resurfaced, only one thought remained.
I’m screwed.
From midway, the drunken haze had lifted somewhat. He should’ve stopped the guy while semi-sober, not gone along with it.
Kang Siheon, you’re insane.
The more he criticized himself, the stronger the urge to flee. But running away at his age? From his ex-husband’s house, no less? It’d look ridiculous, and he couldn’t stay out long anyway due to pheromone issues.
Besides, dodging the situation was as good as admitting he remembered everything.
Was there really only one option left?
Siheon mentally circled “pretend the film cut out.” Bzzzt. Correct!—he almost heard the sound effect.
Sure, he hadn’t honed award-winning acting skills for this, but pretending the film cut? It was basically amnesia acting, wasn’t it?
Decision made, Siheon calmly entered the guest bathroom to wash up, tweaking a past amnesiac character with a few new details. By the time he dried his hair, he’d crafted a convincing persona.
“Phew…”
Changing into workout clothes in the dressing room, he stood at the bedroom door and took a deep breath.
First, grab the phone and wallet, then tell Cha Wonwoo confidently that he’s going to exercise. If the guy’s half-asleep, great. If he’s awake and asks about last night, just deny remembering. Perfect.
With his flawless internal script, Siheon reached for the doorknob, but before he could turn it, the door swung open from the inside without warning.
“…!”
In that split second, stumbling forward, Cha Wonwoo caught him.
“You okay?”
Siheon awkwardly pulled his hand free and looked up. Cha Wonwoo, big as the door, seemed especially towering today.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just startled. Make some noise next time.”
“You weren’t coming in, so I wondered if you were trying to bolt.”
Stung by guilt, Siheon widened his eyes, playing innocent.
“Bolt? Why would I suddenly run?”
“Well…”
Cha Wonwoo’s gaze drifted to Siheon’s earlobe. Siheon instinctively touched it. After last night’s biting and sucking, it was slightly swollen. Feeling the lingering heat, he lowered his hand and asked.
“Did you bring me here yesterday? I remember drinking with Minjae, but…”
“Seo Minjae.”
“Huh?”
“Seo Minjae.”
Something irked him, and Cha Wonwoo’s sleepy face turned cold.
Why’s he getting so serious this early?
Siheon, with a reluctant expression, corrected himself.
“Fine, Seo Minjae. I remember drinking with him, but I woke up here.”
“When’d you wake up?”
“At dawn. Washed up right after. Did you bring me? Must’ve been a hassle. Thanks.”
Cha Wonwoo slowly crossed his arms, leaning crookedly against the doorframe, staring at Siheon.
His eyes scanned like a predator inspecting prey for anything suspicious. A look that promised to pounce and never let go if he found the slightest hint.
He parted his lips slowly.
“So, hyung.”
His voice, still hoarse from the early hour, rasped.
“You’re saying the film cut out?”
A trap, a snare, bait—whatever you called it, it was clearly a probing question. He couldn’t fall for it. Siheon felt his insides tighten with tension, like a taut bowstring.
“Uh… I don’t remember.”
Careful not to stammer, he answered, and Cha Wonwoo murmured lowly, as if chewing over the words.
“Oh, you don’t remember…”
Then, with a hurt expression, he pulled off the feat of speaking in a gentle tone.
“I’ll give you another chance to answer, hyung. Really don’t remember?”
“Yeah, why would I lie about something like this?”
“…Really?”
Siheon nodded calmly.
“Yup, really don’t remember. Why? Did I mess up yesterday?”
“Oh, you messed up.”
Cha Wonwoo grinned slyly.
“You told me you loved me. Said we should get back together.”
For a moment, Siheon was too shocked to speak.
This… this… was a twist he hadn’t seen coming.
After a stunned pause, he finally regained his senses and asked in a trembling voice.
“I… I said that?”
“Yeah, you don’t remember, do you, hyung?”
Uncrossing his arms and standing straight, Cha Wonwoo patted Siheon’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, though. I remember everything.”
The words carried weight. Before Siheon could calm himself, Cha Wonwoo added.
“Let’s go see a lawyer together today.”
[Text to CEO Heo]
Emergency situation
?
If I call, back me up and say there’s a meeting about the New York trip.
In the bathroom, Siheon quickly sent the text and flushed the unused toilet for effect. Whoosh—as the water swirled, he deleted the message history and stepped out. Cha Wonwoo, about to hand him a cup, frowned.
“Hyung, not washing your hands after using the bathroom isn’t good for your health, is it?”
Siheon, who hadn’t thought that far, felt embarrassed at the hygiene jab and hurried back inside.
Washing his hands at the sink, he deliberately left them wet to make a point as he returned. Cha Wonwoo smirked and handed him the cup.
“Honey water.”
At least the hangover was real, which was a relief.
Siheon confidently downed the honey water and held out the cup. Cha Wonwoo took it and placed it in the dishwasher. Not washing a single cup himself—classic third-generation chaebol heir.
Soon, Cha Wonwoo pulled a pot prepared by the housekeeper from the fridge and set it on the induction stove.
“Let’s eat breakfast and head to work together. Tell your lawyer to meet you at the company. We’ll talk with the legal team.”
Pulling out a chair and sitting, Siheon replied.
“Like I said earlier, I’m busy today. Got a last-minute meeting.”
Under suspicious eyes, he called CEO Heo on speakerphone. The call connected quickly.
—Actor Kang? What’s with the text—
“CEO! You said there’s work at the company and I should come in, right? Urgent meeting?”
Siheon cut Heo off.
—Huh? Work at the company? If being too peaceful counts as work, sure.
“CEO.”
Oh, come on, this guy.
Siheon ground out Heo’s title before continuing.
“You said there’s a meeting.”
—You just said meeting. Is it a meeting or a conference? Pick one.
“Oh, same difference.”
—Not really, the vibe’s different. A conference is internal, but a meeting feels like it needs outsiders involved.
“Is that important right now?”
Glaring at the phone screen, Siheon glanced up.
Leaning against the home bar, Cha Wonwoo casually propped himself with both hands, staring intently. Bathed in sunlight streaming through the window, he looked like a painting. Even the mocking smirk at the corner of his lips.
Siheon shifted his gaze back to the screen, stubbornly pushing the planned response.
“The New York trip. You know about it.”
—Oh, Fashion Week? The brand fittings are done, and everything’s set. You leave next week, right?
“Exactly. It’s already next week, and there’s a last-minute meeting—”
—Yeah, with that carbon emissions issue blowing up in the States, they said no private jet. Manager Lee Kang-san said they still got you first-class tickets, though. Travel safe.
“No, I’m not calling for pleasantries.”
This time, Heo cut Siheon off, launching into how caring a CEO he was.
—Oh, and you know I gave you two extra days, right? Last break before the movie and drama, so enjoy it. I told the company crew not to follow for vlogs. Those could make bank, but you need rest too, Actor Kang. Not many companies like ours, huh? So work hard when you’re back. Got it? Take care.
“No, CEO. Hello? Hello?”
Despite his desperate calls, the phone screen went black.
“…”
Briefly, Siheon seriously considered terminating his contract. Then a single-serving tray was placed before him.
“Looks like your meeting got canceled, hyung. Oh, wait, you said meeting, right?”
The guy sat across with a smug grin, dripping with feigned innocence.
Every humiliation possible is happening today. My horoscope probably says ‘worst day ever.’
“Eat up. The soup’s getting cold.”
“Yeah…”
Siheon replied halfheartedly, checking the breakfast menu.
Lotus-leaf-wrapped chicken breast, mini cabbage, tofu, and the standout—clear bean sprout soup.
During their marriage and even now, this house’s menu was mostly tailored to Siheon. For someone whose job demanded physical discipline, soups or stews were rare.
Yet today, there was soup. Food Cha Wonwoo had warmed, standing like a work of art. He must’ve tipped off the housekeeper, though Siheon didn’t know when.
Bean sprout soup the day after drinking? Siheon’s heart softened, and his tone warmed.
“They say it’s polite to forget drunken nonsense.”
Cha Wonwoo, sitting upright and using chopsticks, countered.
“They also say drunk words are true. You spoke your heart, hyung. Not nonsense.”
Unwilling to lose, Siheon doubled down.
“Nope. I turn into a dog when I drink. So think of anything I said as just barking.”
“No clue about turning into a dog, but you sure looked for one a lot. Yebbi. Remember calling for Yebbi nonstop?”
“…Yebbi’s always in my heart.”
Recalling his Yebbi-fueled antics nearly killed his appetite, but Siheon powered through and took a sip of the steaming soup. The hot broth instantly soothed his stomach.
Cha Wonwoo took a spoonful too, then said leisurely.
“Didn’t realize it, but I’m in your heart too. The way you begged to reconcile was so heartfelt.”
“…”
Siheon ground his teeth silently.
If I ever drink again, I’m not Kang Siheon—I’m Cha Siheon. No, scratch that. That’d make Cha Wonwoo happy.
He felt wronged. He’d clearly ordered non-alcoholic, but real beer came out of nowhere. Who’d expect to get drunk? And he never imagined Cha Wonwoo would show up.
Truth be told, he had a ton of questions for him.
Why didn’t he answer properly when Siheon asked about the blood on his clothes? What was with that rut-like feverish body temperature, even briefly? And the look when he touched his pheromone gland at the end—what did it mean?
The thought that Cha Wonwoo might be sick and not saying anything gnawed at him.
But to ask, Siheon would have to admit he wasn’t “memory-lost guy” but “memory-intact guy.”
He’d definitely been aroused yesterday. Cha Wonwoo couldn’t have missed it. Even beyond that, calling for Yebbi… he was mortified by his drunken flailing. Admitting he remembered now was too embarrassing.
“Good timing, actually.”
Siheon was quietly chewing when Cha Wonwoo spoke up abruptly.
“Next week, it’ll be about a month. Time to file the divorce with the mediation agreement.”
Should I say it’s already been that long? Or that it’s only been that long?
An indescribable expression flickered across Siheon’s face. Staying silent with a bitter smile, Cha Wonwoo got to his real point.
“I’m going to request an extension on the filing deadline.”
Siheon blinked, confused, and asked.
“What?”
“…No need to look that shocked.”
Cha Wonwoo’s face stiffened as he set down his chopsticks.
“It’s not about not wanting to divorce. Your pheromone issue isn’t resolved yet, hyung. The hospital said to keep monitoring, and we’re supposed to live together for it.”
Dropping all playfulness, he spoke earnestly, his tone unyielding.
“At least until your pheromone issue is sorted, we need to extend it.”
“According to the Special Act on Trait-Bearer Protection, if there’s a pheromone issue, you can submit a diagnosis and medical opinion to request an extension of the divorce filing period.”
That was what both sides’ lawyers had explained during the divorce mediation.
Many couples experience pheromone issues during or right after divorce proceedings. Thus, the law allows extending the period to resolve health-related pheromone problems before finalizing the divorce. Moreover, since some couples reconsider divorce due to pheromones, it serves as a safety net.
“Meeting a lawyer wasn’t about… reconciliation but for the extension request?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you just say so from the start…”
No need to lie about reconciliation or whatever. Of course, pointing out Cha Wonwoo’s lie would expose Siheon’s own claim of a memory blackout as a lie, so he clamped his lips shut.
“…”
But the guy showed no mercy.
“Though it’s also true that you talked about reconciling.”
Siheon bit his lip hard and set down his spoon. Cha Wonwoo subtly prodded.
“Why? Remembering something?”
“Nope? Not at all? I do recall Minjae whining cutely that I was giving him a heart attack.”
“Not Minjae—Seo Minjae.”
“Right, Seo Minjae.”
Sorry, Minjae.
Not wanting to just take it, Siheon deliberately dropped the name, and Cha Wonwoo’s gaze turned icy in an instant. If Seo Minjae saw that look, he might actually have a heart attack.
Realizing that mentioning reconciliation would inevitably lead to Siheon bringing up other guys’ names, Cha Wonwoo fell silent.
Feeling a slight sense of victory, Siheon said.
“Anyway, meeting a lawyer for the extension can wait. I drank and ate snacks yesterday. The housekeeper didn’t season heavily, which is nice, but I still had salty soup. I’m hitting the gym today.”
Surely that was convincing enough, Siheon thought, pointing to his workout clothes. But Cha Wonwoo frowned and said.
“Who said that? That the housekeeper made it?”
“Huh?”
“You were drinking way after the housekeeper left. When would she have come back to cook this?”
Then that means…
Siheon trailed off, staring, and Cha Wonwoo nodded.
“I made it.”
What could he say when a guy who wouldn’t wash a single cup had personally cooked bean sprout soup? Lowering his head, Siheon slowly stirred the soup with his spoon. Waves rippled in the small bowl. His heart wavered.
Just moments ago, this bean sprout soup was merely a hangover remedy soothing his troubled stomach. But knowing the guy in front of him made it turned it into a dish rarer than anything in the world.
It hit him that others must live like this too—assigning meaning to ordinary food, songs, conversations.
Scooping a spoonful and bringing it to his mouth, Siheon savored the flavor he hadn’t noticed before and said.
“It’s delicious.”
When Cha Wonwoo looked skeptical, Siheon emphasized.
“For real. It’s perfect for my taste.”
Only then did Cha Wonwoo’s eyes soften, just enough to go unnoticed by most—except Siheon, who always caught it.
“You must have a knack for cooking.”
Far from domestic, the few things Cha Wonwoo could cook were all learned after marriage to give Siheon a break. Now, bean sprout soup joined that list.
Praising his culinary skills, Siheon watched as Cha Wonwoo responded confidently.
“Tell me what you want to eat. I’ll make it.”
“Nah, this is more than enough. Thanks. I’ll eat well.”
Normally, Siheon would barely touch soup to watch his physique, but today he finished every drop. Cha Wonwoo quietly finished his meal too.
Thanks to the bean sprout soup, a brief warm truce settled between them, but it didn’t last long.
When Siheon brushed his teeth and packed for the gym, Cha Wonwoo was already waiting at the entrance. Checking something on his phone, he stood there, and Siheon’s expression shifted oddly upon seeing him.
“You’re not going to work today?”
Where was the bespoke suit tailored stitch by stitch by famed designer Taylor John Seymour just for Cha Wonwoo? Instead, he was dressed in workout clothes like Siheon.
“Nope, not planning to. Or rather, I can’t.”
Pocketing his phone, Cha Wonwoo looked at him like, What’s the problem?
Siheon felt disappointed. Seeing Cha Wonwoo in a perfectly fitted suit every morning had been a small pleasure. Misreading his expression, Cha Wonwoo explained.
“I was going to, but it’s not happening. You only lost yesterday, but you did lose your memory, right? How could I leave someone like that alone?”
Picking “lost your memory” out of terms like “film cut” or “blackout” showed he’d seen through Siheon’s act. Maybe he never bought it.
With a faint smile, Cha Wonwoo gently tugged Siheon’s wrist.
“Let’s go. The car’s waiting.”
Suddenly diagnosed with the peculiar condition of “yesterday’s amnesia,” Siheon had no choice but to be dragged along under attentive care.
Driver Kim’s car rode smoother than Secretary Yang’s, and despite eating recently, Siheon didn’t feel queasy.
Sitting side by side with Cha Wonwoo on the way to the gym.
Somehow sensing the brief lull, Seo Minjae, who’d drunk with him last night, texted to check in.
[Seo Minjae]
Hyung, did you get home safe and sound?
I feel like someone bashed my brain.
What’re you talking about?
Like I saw some scary guy.
He was bleeding from his nose too?
But that’s all I remember.
Woke up in my merch room.
Super scary but happy lol
Merch room? Most celebrities probably had a space for fan gifts or official merchandise. The scary guy was likely Cha Wonwoo. A nosebleed? Siheon recalled the blood on his clothes. Glancing beside him instinctively, he locked eyes with Cha Wonwoo, who’d been watching with a sullen face.
“Why’s your face like that?”
Cha Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with my face? By the way, hyung, ever thought about living on an island?”
“Nope, no thoughts or plans.”
“What if you could get anything you wanted right away? By air or sea, whatever route. And the island’s huge. How’s that?”
His motive was obvious. Siheon scoffed and asked.
“You gonna let me have internet? A phone?”
“…”
“A big island with great service doesn’t make confinement a vacation.”
Siheon glanced at Driver Kim in the front seat and shut his mouth. He didn’t want to push or tease too much in front of others.
Meanwhile, chatty Seo Minjae kept texting, the phone buzzing repeatedly in Siheon’s hand.
[Seo Minjae]
Oh, our cheers toast!
The one I posted on my story.
Small thing but it blew up.
Link: mouthduk.net/best/20230118
Honey Jars spotted hyung’s hand right away lol
No, I mean Honey; Honey Jars
Anyway, I’m officially a stan now TT
When do you start action school, hyung?
I’ll join after New York.
Oh right, you’re going to New York.
Gotta clear my phone storage and wait.
Hyung, don’t slay too hard in New York.
?
Don’t crush them with your face >.<
(Big heart emoji)
What’s he on about? Siheon chuckled, about to reply, when long fingers intervened. With fluid grace, Cha Wonwoo pressed delete, and the heart vanished.
“…”
In its place, only “This message has been deleted” remained. As if that erased the heart Seo Minjae sent.
Continuing to text might lead to Cha Wonwoo deleting Seo Minjae’s number—or Seo Minjae himself.
Giving up on replying, Siheon pocketed his phone without regret. Pleased with his choice, Cha Wonwoo looked cheerful even arriving at the gym.
Guy’s so simple sometimes.
They reached their destination in quiet peace. The gym near Sori Entertainment was a private PT studio occupying an entire building, separating floors for regular members and celebrities with strict privacy protection. It was popular even among non-Sori-affiliated stars, with programs tailored for actors and idols.
Heading to the locker room with Cha Wonwoo, old memories surfaced.
After meeting at a CH Bank ad shoot, Cha Wonwoo got a VIP membership here, showing up whenever Siheon did. They only crossed paths in the building, but Cha Wonwoo’s boldness made that enough to spark something.
How bold was he?
“You renewed your membership here?”
“My company gym makes employees uncomfortable.”
Right, that first conversation here—Cha Wonwoo had used that excuse.
The day they ran into each other at the gym.
Cha Wonwoo was wearing a deep navy tracksuit that suited him perfectly. They’d already met at the ad shoot and over a meal, so it wasn’t their first encounter.
However, Siheon was on an important call at the time and had to move to a quieter spot. Spotting Cha Wonwoo in the hallway startled him, but he could only nod in greeting before rushing past.
The second time they met at the gym.
Cha Wonwoo wore a striking red tracksuit. Seeing Siheon by the water cooler, he strode over and greeted him. Siheon, filling his bottle, didn’t hide his delight.
“I read online that CH Financial’s new building has an amazing company gym. But you come here instead?”
“Yeah, my presence makes employees uncomfortable.”
Sure, if word got out he used the company gym, some employees might feel uneasy, but wouldn’t others—whether chasing promotions or romance—jump at the chance? Imagining people striking up conversations with a sweaty Cha Wonwoo soured Siheon’s mood, and he quickly agreed.
“Well, this place is private, so that’s nice. You don’t run into many people.”
“…But we ran into each other. Twice.”
Emphasizing “we” and “twice,” Cha Wonwoo stared at Siheon so openly it was embarrassing while he filled his sports bottle. Feeling awkward, Siheon fumbled to change the subject.
“Don’t you have a training room at home? I thought chaebols only sweat outside for golf or tennis.”
Pure curiosity prompted the question, but Cha Wonwoo shook his head firmly.
“No, I’d have nowhere to work out if not here.”
His tone was resolute.
Then you’d better work hard, Siheon replied naturally, shifting to the color of Cha Wonwoo’s tracksuit.
“I thought blue tones suited you best, but red looks great too.”
“Oh… I read a study that red stands out more.”
Cha Wonwoo answered, then frowned, as if realizing he’d slipped up.
Siheon knew the study: regardless of trait or gender, subjects found people in red more sexually attractive. Pretending ignorance, he closed his bottle and asked.
“Why would you need to stand out at the gym?”
Worried Siheon might leave after filling his bottle, Cha Wonwoo answered a beat late, visibly nervous.
“…If I get pinned under equipment, I’d need rescuing fast.”
“Oh… rescuing.”
Catching the hasty excuse, Siheon smiled and said.
“For that, wouldn’t being shirtless make you more noticeable?”
The third time they met at the gym.
It was in the locker room.
As Siheon entered, the door opposite, leading to the private shower booths, opened. Out walked Cha Wonwoo, wet, with only a towel around his waist.
“…”
“…”
The usually confident Cha Wonwoo’s eyes wavered slightly. Excitement, anticipation, and anxiety swirled in his dark gaze. His flushed ears and neck—red from hot water or embarrassment?—were impossible to pin down.
“Director, just to make sure I’m not misunderstanding…”
Siheon’s voice cracked as he finally spoke. Clearing his throat, he studied Cha Wonwoo, glistening under bright lights, and asked.
“This…”
“…”
“I mean… it’s a honey trap, right?”
“…”
Cha Wonwoo froze, silent, then gave a tiny nod. His neck was now vividly red. Whether uncontrolled or deliberate, a faint trace of alpha pheromones leaked out—just enough to be adorable.
They say you’re done the moment someone looks cute.
Siheon bit his tongue. He had to admit it. A towering younger man, a dominant alpha who usually avoided his trait, looked cute. Lowering his head to the locker room floor, then tilting it to the ceiling, Siheon sighed twice and said.
“Director, you know I’m a beta, right?”
It was like rejecting a confession Cha Wonwoo hadn’t even made. His stoic face crumbled as Siheon moved to pass by. In a rush, Cha Wonwoo grabbed Siheon’s sleeve.
“…?”
Not his hand, wrist, or shoulder—just the sleeve’s edge. It might sound prejudiced, but Siheon thought it didn’t suit his looks or dominant alpha status.
He’s got a cute side despite appearances, doesn’t he?
Cha Wonwoo, who’d never been called cute or treated as such, had no idea what Siheon was thinking and spoke.
“You might think you’ve hidden it well, Kang Siheon-ssi.”
Their eyes met. Cha Wonwoo’s sunken gaze was dark and fierce. In a low voice, he said.
“But I already know. Your pheromone scent, Kang Siheon-ssi.”
Startled, Siheon nearly yanked his sleeve free and bolted.
“What’s that supposed to mean… Director, I’m a beta.”
“No.”
His tone was certain.
“I know you’re an omega, Kang Siheon-ssi.”
Siheon licked his dry lips. Now he was the nervous one. As he struggled for words, Cha Wonwoo continued.
“But it wouldn’t matter if you were a beta.”
“…”
“Even if you were an alpha, it’d be fine.”
To anyone else, it might sound insane, but Cha Wonwoo’s expression remained utterly serious, his eyes dangerously intense.
“Because the person I want is just Kang Siheon.”
Childishly, Siheon felt a thrill as an omega for the first time. The impure, exhilarating rush of making a dominant alpha want him, unbound by traits—dominating and conquering him.
His ears burning, Siheon fidgeted with his earlobe and sighed lightly.
“For now, just…”
“…”
“For now, I get it, so put some clothes on.”
He wanted to ask when and how he found out, but Cha Wonwoo’s chiseled pecs and defined abs scrambled his thoughts.
If anyone else had discovered it, Siheon would’ve felt horror and panic, but not with Cha Wonwoo. Maybe he’d vaguely sensed this man would know.
“Once I’m dressed,” Cha Wonwoo said, finally voicing what he’d held back despite wanting to say every time he saw Siheon here.
“Let’s have coffee today, no matter what.”
God, he’s cute. All that, just to ask for coffee? Siheon thanked his acting career. Without years of practice, he’d have failed to keep a straight face and melted instantly.
“Coffee’s no big deal…”
Despite Siheon’s deliberate gruffness, Cha Wonwoo, hearing what he wanted, smiled as if nothing held him back.
A sweet, dazzling smile that effortlessly disarmed anyone.
From gym to coffee, coffee to a fling—it went smoothly enough, but the path to a relationship was rocky. Neither knew how to transition naturally from fling to romance, having no dating experience.
After dates, Siheon would pester his friend Byeon Haewon, while Cha Wonwoo tormented pheromone and relationship studies, agonizing. It was less rest and more strategic planning.
Once dating, they’d sneak around, asking trainers for private PT sessions to enjoy gym dates. Coming back here post-divorce felt… nostalgic, maybe?
Snapping out of his reverie, Siheon looked at Cha Wonwoo. The guy who’d once worn red and bared his torso to catch his eye now raised an eyebrow, still justifying his membership.
“It auto-renews. I didn’t force it. And I’m used to this place now.”
“You’re just… the same as ever.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Anyway, renew or not, it’s not like I own the place. Do what you want. And it’s good to stick with a familiar gym. Your trainer knows your body well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cha Wonwoo stepped close, leaning crookedly against a locker door, giving Siheon a loaded look.
“Your body—hyung knows it best, doesn’t he?”
Siheon quickly averted his gaze.
“What are you saying in the sacred iron-pumping zone, seriously?”
It was because Cha Wonwoo’s face merged with last night’s image.
Flushed cheeks, panting breaths, dynamic movements, taut muscles, head thrown back, and Adam’s apple bobbing sharply.
“Hyung, call my name.”
“Hyung, watch me, watch me come.”
His low, desperate pleas.
Siheon pressed the locker’s keypad as if calming his heart, taking deep breaths. I won’t fall for a honey trap like before, he vowed.
“If we’re here to work out, quit yapping and focus.”
Whether a resolve or a warning to Cha Wonwoo, Siheon spun around as if chased. A soft chuckle came from behind. Deciding it was risky to be alone in the locker room with those dizzying memories, he moved to leave—when a familiar face burst through the door.
“Huh?”
A man with a large duffel bag—it was actor Lee Jinseok. Entering the locker room, he widened his eyes, surprised to see Siheon. It was their first meeting since the sushi restaurant with Director Pyo Wook-joon. Siheon was equally startled.
“Sunbae! Wow, you work out here too?”
“Yeah, uh, I didn’t always, but I signed up recently.”
“No wonder. I come sporadically, but I know who’s around. Never saw you before.”
“I knew you trained here, Siheon, but… finally meeting you.”
If Siheon didn’t know Jinseok’s flair for cheesy lines, it’d be easy to misunderstand—like he’d come just to see him.
Cha Wonwoo, who had worn out the gym’s doorstep to meet Siheon, stared blankly. Unable to ignore the gaze, Jinseok nodded lightly.
“Good to see you again, Cha Wonwoo-ssi.”
Cha Wonwoo looked at him silently. Undeterred by the lack of response, Jinseok continued smoothly.
“They say repeated coincidences become fate. Looks like we’ve got a deep connection, running into each other like this.”
Leaning arrogantly against the locker door, Cha Wonwoo scoffed mockingly and echoed Jinseok’s words, stepping in front of Siheon.
“Repeated coincidences become fate?”
“Any problem with that?”
Jinseok countered, and Cha Wonwoo replied dryly.
“Well, I see it differently. Repeated coincidences aren’t fate—they’re intent. Someone’s intent.”
Having deliberately frequented the gym to get close to Siheon, Cha Wonwoo couldn’t view Jinseok’s actions kindly.
Unaware of their history or Cha Wonwoo’s feelings, Jinseok fanned the flames.
“Hmm… Did Siheon tell you? I used to have a thing for him. Is that why you’re so guarded?”
Cha Wonwoo’s side erupted with Siheon frantically shaking his head, making an X with his hands. But it wasn’t enough to stop Jinseok. Resigned, Siheon calmly corrected him.
“Sunbae, isn’t ‘had a thing’ a bit strong? You said it was just an attraction. So, like, a fondness, yeah, fondness. And you should mention it’s not a thing now.”
“Right.”
Jinseok flashed a radiant smile, fitting his “beautiful alpha” moniker.
“But with Cha Wonwoo-ssi being so overprotective, I’m tempted to actually fall for him. Getting misunderstood like this can spark feelings, you know. Like defiance.”
His unhelpful words forced Siheon to shift tactics, lightly tapping Cha Wonwoo’s arm.
“Sunbae’s joking. You stop it too.”
Cha Wonwoo didn’t budge, just staring at Jinseok.
When Jinseok didn’t back down, an impromptu staring contest ensued. Their gazes were so heated, a stranger might mistake them for the married-and-divorced pair.
Suddenly, Siheon recalled Jinseok’s words from their last meeting.
“Use me anytime. It didn’t look like things were completely over with Cha Wonwoo. If you’re thinking of reconciling, we could fake-date to spark jealousy.”
Is he seriously running that plan solo? Siheon sighed inaudibly. Both growling over nothing reminded him of childish alphas in tabloids. It felt like a low-rated melodrama, embarrassing to witness.
Then Jinseok provoked first, subtly releasing dominant alpha pheromones and aura.
“Cha Wonwoo-ssi, you’re divorced yet awfully invested in Siheon’s affairs. An ex-husband’s just that—an ex. Practically a stranger.”
Cha Wonwoo’s eyebrow shot up, mirroring their sushi restaurant bathroom encounter. Back then, worried about Siheon’s pheromone issues, he’d swallowed his dominant alpha pride, not countering Jinseok’s pheromones but shielding Siheon with his own.
Today was no different. Instead of challenging the irritating alpha pheromones, Cha Wonwoo chose to protect Siheon.
A familiar intangible aura and pheromones began enveloping Siheon.
“Ah…”
But Cha Wonwoo froze, as if stung, and the gathering aura and pheromones cut off, dissipating like smoke.
“…”
Before Siheon could process, a rigid Cha Wonwoo spoke.
“…I’ll head out first.”
Without time to stop him, he vanished. The locker room door closed, his figure fading quickly beyond it.
Jinseok, retracting his aura and pheromones, spoke awkwardly.
“Did I upset Cha Wonwoo-ssi too much?”
Siheon shook his head. “No, it’s…” Stumbling over words in shock. “No, I don’t think he’s mad.” Finishing the sentence, his only thought was to find him. He looked at Jinseok apologetically.
“Sunbae, sorry, I gotta go.”
Not waiting for a reply, he bolted out, heart pounding with unease. Cha Wonwoo’s pale face haunted him as he searched.
Racing through the weight room, various rooms, the wide lobby, and every corner of the building, Siheon finally found him beyond the emergency exit door, sitting on the stairs. Panting, he scanned Cha Wonwoo up and down.
“You, ha, okay?”
He hadn’t run much, but worry weighed him down, leaving him breathless. Clutching the door handle and catching his breath, he asked. Cha Wonwoo gave a smile that didn’t fit the moment.
“Worried about me?”
“Worried? You think that’s a question right now?”
Storming off like it was a crisis, then grinning because he was worried—Siheon was so mad he wanted to smack him. Slam! He shut the door loudly and strode toward Cha Wonwoo, who stood awkwardly.
“Hyung.”
“Sit.”
Pushing his shoulders to sit him back down, Siheon demanded.
“Talk. Why’d you storm out?”
“What? Nothing happened. I just left.”
Cha Wonwoo played dumb, rolling his eyes. Siheon pressed in a stern voice.
“That was a ‘nothing happened’ face?”
His calm nod made it hard to spot a lie. Nothing? Siheon couldn’t believe it. But before he could press further, Cha Wonwoo turned the tables.
“How about you, hyung? That guy said he liked you.”
Knowing he was dodging, Siheon felt the need to clarify this point.
“Did you see sunbae’s left ring finger? There’s a ring mark. Just my guess, but I think he got married while he was off the grid. Must’ve had reasons. Point is, any fondness he had for me is old news. Not now.”
Cha Wonwoo interjected abruptly.
“How could it not be now?”
It was more a mutter than a statement. Then, looking straight at Siheon, he flashed a flawless smile. Unlike his curved lips, his eyes were cold.
“Then why’re you making excuses for that bastard?”
“How’s this making excuses? I’m explaining the situation!”
Frustrated, Siheon shouted. The open stairwell amplified his voice, echoing hollowly before fading. He pointed out.
“And don’t change the subject. You clearly—”
Taking a deep breath, he summoned courage to voice the issue stuck in his throat.
“You couldn’t release your pheromones properly just now.”