For a Hungry Omega

Haon looked up at the man, confused. He should’ve asked why he was being told not to go. But the man’s expression was too dark, and he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth.

“I’m saying this for your own good, Haon-ssi.”

The man kept saying things that made no sense. For my sake, he said. He wasn’t the kind of person to say something thoughtlessly, so Haon couldn’t just brush it off.

“Quit that job. Find something else. Another restaurant gig.”

“Why, why…?”

He swallowed hard and asked carefully, but the man didn’t respond. He lightly bit his lower lip and fell silent, deep in thought.

“I’ll tell them to calculate your wages and send it today.”

Maybe he noticed how closely Haon was watching him, because the man continued the conversation a beat later.

“You don’t need to contact them yourself, Haon-ssi.”

This time, it was Haon who didn’t answer. His mouth opened slightly, then clamped shut again. He decided to wait until the man explained. If he didn’t, Haon planned to show up to work anyway. Every job was precious to him.

While Haon was caught in confusion, Inho was struggling. If it were anyone else, he would’ve just said it without hesitation. But because it was Haon, it wasn’t easy—to tell him what happened that night.

But he had to.

“You said you didn’t remember how you ended up at my place.”

Even if Haon refused to talk about it, it was something he needed to know. There was a reason why someone like Haon, who worked at a regular restaurant and not a bar, had ended up at a shady club, dragged there by Park Jung-hyuk.

Park Jung-hyuk was the executive director at the hotel where Haon’s restaurant was located. He got his kicks seducing Omega employees at the hotel. But now he’d gone too far—even laying hands on an employee who’d passed out from heat. Inho had always known the guy was messed up, but he didn’t realize it was this bad.

“I saw you at the club that night.”

“What…?”

“The bastard who brought you there… he’s someone I know.”

Inho slowly walked Haon through what had happened, condensing it as much as he could. He softened the details so Haon wouldn’t be too shocked. He couldn’t bring himself to say that Park Jung-hyuk had stripped Haon in front of everyone. If Haon wanted the full story, he’d tell him—but seeing his face go pale in an instant made him hold back.

“That’s when I took you home. My place is close, as you know.”

Park Jung-hyuk was the one who committed the crime, yet Inho’s voice got smaller as he explained. Looking back, maybe he shouldn’t have taken Haon to his place. Maybe he should’ve taken him to the hotel instead. He suddenly worried that Haon might think he was just as bad as Park Jung-hyuk because they knew each other.

“I was drunk too, so I brought you home…”

As Inho trailed off, as if making an excuse, only one word floated in Haon’s mind: club.

‘A club. A club, huh.’

The only “club” Haon had ever been to in his life was Donkatsu Club. The name of the very first restaurant he’d dined at alone after arriving in Seoul was Donkatsu Club.

Back then, he was still just an ordinary Beta and had no aversion to food. As recently as early last year, he used to feel hunger like everyone else and made sure to eat regularly.

So much had changed in just a year and a half. Haon was overwhelmed simply trying to adapt to his increasingly fragile body. During every heat cycle, he didn’t have the strength to remember or reflect on each person who had forced their way through him.

So he let himself forget. That was why he allowed his serious memory lapses to persist. It was better for his mental health that way.

“Haon-ssi.”

The man stepped in close and peered into Haon’s dazed face, now pale. His deep charcoal eyes were filled with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, sorry. I was spacing out.”

Haon mumbled an excuse, unable to concentrate on the conversation at all. He meant to ask him to repeat what he’d said, but strangely, his throat tightened, and no sound came out.

Cough…

He tried to force some air into his lungs but ended up coughing instead—maybe he’d inhaled wrong.

“Are you sick?”

“I’m fine.”

It was just a single cough, but the man looked as if Haon was about to faint. He even grabbed his shoulders, trying to support him. Haon insisted again and again that he was fine, but it didn’t get through.

“Sit down for now.”

The man glanced between the sofa and the dining table chairs before asking if Haon wanted to go to the bedroom. Embarrassed, Haon weakly pushed his hand away, repeating that he was really okay.

He was in good enough shape to walk and even run on his own.

“Ah, sorry.”

The man suddenly apologized as he withdrew the hand he’d used to support Haon. Haon assumed he was apologizing for stepping on his foot. When the man had rushed over, his indoor slippers had lightly pressed down on Haon’s bare toes. They didn’t hurt—it wasn’t a shoe, just soft slippers.

“Just a moment.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, the man turned and went off to get a glass of water. Haon quietly stayed put, thinking he was just getting himself a drink.

Ding—

Inho pressed the hot water button on the water dispenser and pulled out a tin case filled with tea bags. As the tea steeped, he stood there for a moment, fists clenched, pressing them down against the table in silent frustration.

‘I should’ve asked first before touching him.’ He deeply regretted laying hands on Haon without thinking. He worried Haon might now decide to walk out and leave.

“Here. It’s chamomile.”

Inho offered the warm cup to Haon while keeping a respectful distance. He didn’t bring up anything else about what had happened that night.

What concerned him more was how severely Haon seemed to be affected by the stress of his heat cycles. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to know. Not because it was something common or trivial—but because it was too painful to confront, and so he buried it, choosing to forget.

“Ah… thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“It’s hot, so be careful.”

But wasn’t that a bit too dangerous?

Inho suddenly recalled the image of Park Jung-hyuk forcing drinks on Haon, who had been completely out of it.

Honestly, the first time Inho saw Haon that night, he’d thought he was just drunk or high—not in heat. It was because Haon had no detectable pheromones. Until he saw his face up close, he hadn’t even realized Haon was an Omega. There hadn’t been any scent at all. 

‘Could there be something wrong with his pheromones…?’

“I won’t go to work.”

Haon blew on the steaming tea and took a small sip before speaking.

“Good decision.”

Inho immediately told him not to worry about the paycheck—he’d take care of everything. Even without Haon asking, he had every intention of making sure Park Jung-hyuk handled it properly.

“Thank you.”

Haon gave a slight bow of his head once more. Seeing that made Inho’s expression grow even darker.

He’d noticed it from the very beginning—Haon was overly polite. It seemed like bowing and thanking people reflexively was a habit of his. Like he didn’t even realize what kind of situation he was in.

Watching Haon slowly lift his gentle, subdued face, Inho bit his lower lip. He rubbed his furrowed brow as if holding back a sigh, only then realizing how stiff his own expression had become.

“Um…”

As Inho pressed lightly on his brow and temple, Haon hesitantly opened his mouth. Inho responded right away with a soft “Yes?” while forcing the corners of his mouth to lift. He was trying consciously to ease his expression so Haon wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Do you… happen to have any honey at home?”

Honey? Out of nowhere?

“Hold on. Let me check.”

It was a strange request, but Inho started opening one cupboard after another in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find any honey.

“Are you craving something sweet?”

Inho turned to look back at Haon, who was standing awkwardly behind him.

“I’ve got ice cream. And fruit.”

The way Haon opened his mouth slightly with an uh… made it clear—he really wanted honey. So Inho went ahead and opened every last cabinet, just in case.

“You don’t have to keep looking. I’ll just go buy some.”

Haon quickly spoke up as Inho was closing the cupboard doors one by one. Inho, who had also started checking the fridge just in case, pulled out a white container. It was a sealed bottle of condensed milk, still in its plastic wrap.

“This won’t work, huh?”

Tilting his head, he looked at Haon’s expression—then quickly realized, Yeah, that won’t cut it, and set it down again.

He figured he should just run out and buy some as quickly as possible. He’d only checked because he knew it would take time to go out anyway.

“Just relax here for a bit.”

“You’re going out to buy it?”

Haon suddenly stepped in front of the fridge, blocking Inho’s path.

“You want it right now, don’t you?”

“No! I’ll go buy it.”

“No.”

With a bright eye-smile, Inho rejected him flatly, then walked past Haon without a moment’s hesitation. His strides were so quick that Haon couldn’t catch up.

“W-Wait, it’s not that I want to drink it…”

At those words, Inho came to a halt and turned back toward Haon. 

‘If you don’t want to drink it, then why ask for it?’

“I’m not planning to drink it, I just… the honey water…”

Haon shuffled a step closer and scratched his cheek as he mumbled. Inho’s gaze naturally dropped to the growing flush spreading across Haon’s face.

“I was going to make you some…”

As Haon’s voice became clearer, Inho’s eyes widened slightly. His gaze lifted from the reddish handprint on Haon’s cheek to meet those wide, round eyes.

“You were going to make it for me?”