I woke when the outside had already grown dark. Opening my eyes, I was t with a shadowed room and, for the first ti in a long while, the clear, refreshed feeling of having slept deeply. Blinking blankly, I shifted from lying on my side to lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling.
"...."
Through my hazy vision, the high ceiling ca into focus. One arm was resting on my forehead, the other laid across my stomach. I stayed like that for a while, simply looking upward. I’d slept so soundly that it was taking longer than usual to process reality.
Where was I again? It didn’t quite feel like my own room—there was sothing subtly different about the atmosphere. Most of all, there was no way my room could carry pheromones this warm, this comforting.
The quilt wrapped around felt like a cradle. If I closed my eyes again, I could probably fall back into a deep sleep instantly. It was as if all my past insomnia had been just a dream, as if the sleep I’d missed all this ti had co rushing in at once.
The only reason I didn’t slip back under was the quiet click of the door. Turning my head toward the sliver of light spilling in, I saw a tall silhouette enter. He froze for a mont when our eyes t across the dimness.
"...."
"...."
It was Kwon Yido, in comfortable loungewear, hair loose and neat. Even in the dark, his fine features stood out sharply, as if drawn with precision. While I blinked once, twice, he closed the door without a sound and walked slowly toward .
“Guess I woke you.”
His large hand ca toward my forehead, brushing over it as if checking for a fever, then gently sweeping aside my fallen bangs. His fingers trailed along my brow bone, down my cheek, and finally to my chin.
“I was awake,” I murmured, my voice low and hushed. Good timing—opening my eyes to find him walking in. At my reply, he narrowed his eyes slightly, then withdrew his hand.
“Go back to sleep. Dinner’s out of the question at this hour anyway.”
So it really was that late. My still-clouded mind drifted back over the day—going to the workshop, eting Hye-yul, looking at paintings together, tea in the greenhouse, reading in the study, and finally lying down on Yido’s bed.
“What about Hye-yul?”
“She went ho earlier.”
“Ah... I didn’t even say goodbye...”
“It’s fine. She said she’d be back to play again soon.”
Embarrassing, falling asleep so soundly with a child beside . Judging by the blanket over , soone had tucked in—most likely Yido himself.
“Hye-yul «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» seems to have taken quite a liking to you,” Yido said, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning his gaze my way. With one hand braced on the mattress and his legs crossed, he looked almost regal. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice took on a teasing lilt.
“So, how did it feel to be called ‘oppa’?”
"...."
I winced in mild embarrassnt, a breath of awkward laughter escaping . I had told her I was her uncle, not her oppa—but in the end, I’d never corrected her.
“It... did make feel a bit guilty.”
“Did it?”
A faint smile curved his lips. Blinking slowly, I answered evenly,
“Yes. Unfortunately, I already have a younger sister.”
Though I hardly spoke to Seoyoung, she still called oppa—albeit with a formal edge, given our ten-year age gap. Hye-yul was more than another ten years younger than even her.
“Next ti, maybe you could tell her to call ‘ajusshi’ instead.”
“Ajusshi...”
He murmured it under his breath and let out a quiet chuckle, as though it were a ridiculous suggestion.
“Hye-yul has eyes, you know.”
Far too embarrassing a remark. I just squinted at him and let it pass.
"...."
"...."
For a while, neither of us spoke. I stared at him through the dimness, and perhaps noticing, he softened his tone as one might with a drowsy child.
“You should sleep a bit more.”
His pheromones floated around , soothing and pleasant. I hadn’t experienced many alphas’ scents, but Yido’s was singularly good—so well-suited to my taste that sotis I wondered if he’d been made for .
“Are you busy again tonight?”
I asked, my fingers closing lightly around his sleeve. It wasn’t deliberate—just the half-conscious movent of a body still steeped in sleep. Yido’s gaze lowered to where I held him.
“If you have ti...”
"...."
“...would you stay until I fall asleep?”
My vision blurred further. I was on the edge of dropping off again, but if he left, I knew I’d be wide awake. The only reason I could drift off so easily right now was because he was here.
“And maybe... release so pheromones while you’re at it.”
"...."
“Of course, only if you’re not busy.”
A quiet chuckle reached my ears. He smoothly slipped his arm free of my grasp. Ah, so he’s busy, I thought, tamping down a small pang of disappointnt—
“When you’re sleepy, you get more clingy,” he murmured.
Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to my eyelid, then to the bridge of my nose, then my cheek. Finally, he brushed his lips against the side of my ear.
“I like it. Because you only do this with .”
It felt... full of affection. Not foreplay before sex, but simply cherishing . Warmth welled in my chest, enough to heat my eyes.
Yido pulled back the quilt and slid in beside . I shifted to make room, but he caught my arm, drawing close. Sliding his arm under my head and wrapping the other around my back, he murmured,
“Co here.”
"...."
This... wasn’t exactly what I’d ant, but I buried my face against him all the sa. Warmth and a deep, woody scent enveloped . His hand stroked from the nape of my neck down my back, his chin resting lightly atop my head.
I hadn’t realized human warmth could feel so good. The steady beat of his heart seed to lt away the faint unease always lurking inside . His broad palm rubbed between my shoulder blades, and the nape of my neck trembled faintly.
“I’ll co ho early tomorrow,” he murmured.
"...."
“If it’s too much, call .”
What could possibly be “too much” for ? I wanted to ask, but the pull of sleep was too strong. His pheromones and heat dulled my senses, and the mont I closed my eyes, my consciousness slipped away.
Perhaps I ant to make up for all the sleep I’d lost. Without a single sleeping pill, I fell into a deep slumber in his arms. Just before I lost awareness completely, I thought I caught the faint scent of flowers.
***
Half-asleep, I realized I was too warm. The air was still cool enough that the wind felt cold before sunrise, yet here, heat pressed in on all sides, stifling my breath.
“...Haa.”
Why did I feel so disoriented? Even asleep, I wondered. My head felt taut, my stomach pulled tight, and an intense thirst crept over . When I opened my eyes, a rush of heat forced a breath from my lungs.
“...Haa...”
As the room sharpened into view, I realized—there was no trace of Yido’s scent now. The air was thick instead with a heavy floral perfu. Pheromones, dense and saturating—and they were mine.
...So it’s here again.
The heat cycle. I wasn’t surprised. I’d been expecting it soon, so there was no reason to panic. But then, a certain conversation with Yido struck like lightning in my mind.
“Is there sothing tomorrow?”
"...."
He’d said I’d find out tomorrow. That sothing would happen. And now, it felt different in hindsight.
“...How...”
This made three tis now—when he’d warned away from the greenhouse, when he hadn’t sent Lee Taeseong to work, and now today.
Yido knew my heat cycle. There was enough evidence to turn suspicion into certainty. Sohow, he knew my schedule exactly—one I couldn’t predict myself, one even my doctor couldn’t pinpoint.
“...Hhh.”
My thoughts stuttered, caught between wondering how he knew and the surging tide of desire. The latter won easily.
“...Haa...”
However he knew didn’t matter right now. What mattered was finding relief from this heat, this suffocating haze of pheromones.
I needed Yido’s scent. Only he could quiet all this.
Slowly, I pulled the quilt around , inhaling deeply. His woody, steady, dominant alpha pheromones poured over —sweet and grounding, like the mory of kissing him on a rainy day.
“...Hh.”
The heat spread from my lower belly outward. Burying my face in the quilt, I slid a trembling hand into my waistband. My fully engorged cock spilled thin sen with only minimal stimulation.
Sticky fluid sared my hand and the bedding. The thought that this was his bed, that this was sothing I shouldn’t do here, never even registered. I was drunk on pheromones and moving purely on instinct.
“Ah...”
It was like drinking until blackout—a state I’d never actually reached, but imagined would feel like this. Losing control completely.
Everything of his left behind here felt good. Comforting. Safe. Even in the chaos of heat, I didn’t feel alone.
"...."
But apparently there was a side effect—the unbearable urge to see the owner of this scent.
“Haa... Yido...”
I rubbed against the quilt between my legs, knowing it was crude, but unable to stop. In my head, I imagined his touch and tried to mimic it with my own hand.
But my body, already wet with arousal, could tell the difference between real and fake. No matter how skilled I was at touching myself, it was nothing compared to the pleasure Yido had given .
“Haa, haa...”
My tense thighs twitched. I gripped myself, but it still felt lacking. Now, I knew exactly what I wanted.
I wanted him to touch there. To spread open with thick fingers, then fill completely with sothing even thicker.
That thin thread of reason made my sha tolerance skyrocket. Before I could think better of it, my hand left my cock and reached behind . I was so wet the slickness dripped down my thighs.
“...Hhh...”
Reaching back into my pants, my middle finger found my tightly closed entrance. Pressing in, one finger slipped inside.
“Hhh, uh...”
I tried rubbing my inner walls like he had, but the gap between imagination and reality was wide. He had found my sensitive spots instantly; I struggled in an awkward position, my own fingers refusing to obey.
I thought it should be here sowhere... so I pushed in my ring finger too. I’d taken far more than this from him before, but now, even two fingers felt tight.
“...Uh.”
It was a ss from start to finish. I couldn’t even tell where to touch to feel good. Still, I fumbled clumsily, panting with my tongue slightly out.
“Yido...”
I pressed my face into the bunched quilt. My scent mingled with the faint traces of his, like flowers blooming on wood—lding together as if they’d always been one.
If only our bodies could mix like pheromones. If only he were here to spread my legs and sink deep, like before.
“...Haa.”
Even my unskilled touch had loosened sowhat. I wanted sothing thicker, longer—his cock, the one that had felt like it could reach my navel.
“Hh...!”
At last, I found the spot. Pressing firmly against the bulge inside sent sharp pleasure through . Fluid leaked from my cock onto the quilt.
“Hhh...”
Still not enough. I wanted more, stronger.
Without thinking of pain, I added a third finger. When he did it, he’d been so smooth; for , my fingers kept catching on the rim. My hands weren’t small, but compared to his, they felt inadequate.
I pictured those long, straight fingers. Not delicate, but neatly kept down to the nails, with broad knuckles and veins standing out on the backs.
“Mm...”
I imagined those hands kneading roughly—pinching my nipples, caressing my exposed torso, moving down to prepare for him.
Sohow, I managed to work all three fingers in. Moving was still awkward, but I was open enough to take him now. Forcing my muscles to relax, I shifted my fingers, slick sounds following each movent.
“Haa... haa...”
My wrist worked to stretch , while my other hand fumbled across the bed for my phone. He’d told to call if it was too much, and it had to be sowhere nearby.
Luckily, it was right next to my pillow. Pulling my fingers out, I slumped forward, my cockhead wet with mixed fluids.
Instinctively, I dialed his number. I hadn’t looked it up—my fingers rembered all eleven digits. The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
—“Hello?”
"...."
My chest clenched. Just his voice, and my arousal spiked as if he were right here. Setting the phone down beside , I wrapped both hands around my erection.
“Hhh... Mr. Yido...”
—“...Mr. Jung Sejin?”
“When... when are you coming?”
Whether it was sen or slick, the slippery feel was intoxicating. “I’ll be there soon. I’m almost there now...” His low voice ca through, and I stroked myself lightly, focused entirely on the sound.
—“I’ll be up in under five minutes. Just wait a little.”
“...Hhh, okay.”
—“Actually... more like three minutes...”
“Hhh...”
—“...But, Mr. Jung Sejin.”
Was it my imagination, or did his voice drop lower? The tone curled into my ear, gripping my heart tight.
In that deep, shadowed voice, he asked quietly,
—“...You’re not... touching yourself to my voice right now, are you?”
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