The club was already closed, but the smell of smoke and alcohol still hung in the air.Strips of neon light ran along the walls, faintly reflecting in the puddles on the floor—someone had recently mopped the hall, but the dampness did nothing to ease the tension.
Do-yun stood at the entrance, scanning the dark hall.He felt uneasy: after Yoon hadn't replied to his messages, he couldn't wait any longer and had come himself.
The duty guard recognized him and silently let him pass, muttering only briefly:— Mr. Yoon is downstairs.
He went down the stairs, and with each step the air grew heavier.The scent of pheromones lingered—faint, but perceptible, like the trace left after a storm.Do-yun instantly understood: it was Yoon.
The club basement was a labyrinth of narrow corridors, back rooms, and storage areas.The light flickered, ventilation hummed somewhere, and voices could be heard behind one of the doors.
— …I said—no more bottles until we figure this out! — Seung-ho's voice was sharp and firm. — If even one person gets hurt, you'll be held personally responsible.
— But the documents came with Director Lee's signature…
— I'll handle him myself.
When Do-yun entered, Yoon was already standing with his back to the bartender.His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up, fingers gripping his phone.Exhaustion marked his face, tension shadowed his eyes.
He turned when he caught the scent.His gaze was brief, like an electric shock.
— What are you doing here? — he asked softly.
— You didn't answer, — Do-yun spoke quickly, almost in a whisper. — I heard someone got hurt… I thought…
— Did something happen to me? — Yoon scoffed, though there was no mockery in his tone. — I'm fine.
He stepped closer.— But you… you smell different.
Do-yun blinked, not immediately understanding.— What?
— Your blockers. — Seung-ho came almost flush against him. — They're not working anymore.
Do-yun wanted to answer, but his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. The air became thick, hot.His pheromones, usually suppressed, were now surging out.He felt his body betraying him, revealing everything he had tried to hide: fear, desire, confusion.
— Seung-ho, I didn't…
— Shh. — Yoon leaned closer, inhaling deeply. — Spring. That's how you smell.
His eyes darkened. The veins in his neck slightly protruded—a familiar sign that the Alpha was struggling with himself.
— Don't come closer, — Do-yun stepped back, but his back hit the wall.
— You came yourself.
The words sounded not like an accusation, but a statement of fact.Yoon slowly raised his hand, touching his cheek with his fingertips.Do-yun flinched—from the warmth, from how soft, almost gentle, it was.
— Why did you come, Do-yun? — Yoon's voice grew quieter, almost husky.
— I wanted to make sure you were alive.
— I'm alive, — he said, taking a step forward. — And you…
— What?
— You're burning up.
He didn't say it as a reproach.He simply stated a fact.And it was true: Do-yun's body was indeed hot. His skin warm, his breathing rapid. The blockers hadn't just stopped working—his body seemed to be compensating for all the weeks of suppression at once.
Pheromones burst out in waves—fresh, damp, lightly sweet.Yoon felt his own responding, absorbing, blending, merging into one shared scent.
— Don't look at me like that, — Do-yun whispered, closing his eyes.
— Like what?
— Like you want to…
— I do want to, — Yoon interrupted.
There was no distance left between them.Yoon didn't touch his lips, but Do-yun could feel his breath on his skin.The pheromones thickened, almost viscous.
Do-yun tried to exhale, but instead let out a quiet moan.That sound broke the last boundary in Yoon.He pressed one palm against the wall beside Do-yun's face; the other rested on the back of his neck.
— Do-yun, — his voice was low, deep. — If I touch you now, I won't stop.
— I'm not asking you to stop, — the reply was almost soundless.
And in the next second, Yoon kissed him.
It wasn't a soft kiss.Do-yun responded immediately, forgetting air, body, everything.Seung-ho held his waist tightly, as if afraid he might dissolve.The movements weren't tender, but cautious, restrained until the very end.And in every touch, he could feel the Alpha fighting his instinct—not to take, but to protect.
They broke apart only when a door slammed somewhere behind the wall.The air trembled with pheromones; their skin pulsed.
— We shouldn't, — Yoon exhaled.
— I know, — Do-yun leaned his forehead against his shoulder. — But why do I still want it?
Yoon ran his hand through his hair, pulling him close.For a second, everything went quiet—even the silence softened, no longer threatening.Yoon closed his eyes.He wanted to stay in this moment, where there was no management, no schemes, no pain—only the breathing of another person.But inside, he already knew: tomorrow, he would have to be cold again.
When they left the club, the city was asleep.Streetlights reflected in the wet asphalt; the rain had just begun.Do-yun walked beside him, not looking at him.
— Aren't you afraid? — Yoon asked.
— I am afraid, — he replied. — But not of you.
He smiled. For a second—the quietest, most genuine smile of all time.
And Yoon understood:From this moment on, everything had changed.Not just between them—in everything they did.Now pheromones were no longer just a scent.Now—they were a promise that could no longer be broken.