Evening settled over the city in the soft glow of streetlights. Minjun sat at the table in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, where one bulb had died completely and another flickered as if mocking him. He sighed. Just a small domestic problem, yet it stung more than anything else: a reminder that he was alone. Independence wasn't just a proud word - it was learning to handle even the little things that others once did for him.
His fingers slid over the screen of his phone. Call Hyuk? That would mean showing weakness again. But the thought of the alpha walking into his apartment, bringing with him that calm scent, that steady confidence, that warmth - it was tempting.
His hesitation was broken by a call. Hyuk's name lit up the screen.
"Minjun, hey," the alpha's voice was deep, steady, as if holding him by the hand. "Everything alright?"
"Uh… I guess…" Minjun looked away, heat rushing to his ears and cheeks. "It's just… the bulbs burned out. I don't know how to change them."
A pause. Then Hyuk's voice, firm yet gentle:
"Got it. I'll come by. I'll bring tools."
***
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Minjun opened it - and the first thing he noticed was the faint aroma: warm, calm, with the slightest trace of spice. He would never admit it aloud, but that scent always made his heart beat faster.
"Hey," Hyuk said, holding a small toolbox. "Where's the problem?"
Minjun nodded and led him inside.
***
Hyuk laid out the tools on the table. His movements were precise, assured, without unnecessary fuss. Minjun watched secretly: strong fingers, careful gestures, the faint crease between his brows when he focused.
"Get on the step stool," Hyuk said, "I'll hold it steady."
Minjun obeyed, though his heart thumped nervously. Holding the bulb, he climbed to the top step. Hyuk's hand pressed lightly against his back, steadying him. Just a touch - but it sent a shiver through Minjun's body.
"Careful," came the quiet voice from below. "Take your time."
Minjun bit his lip, forcing himself to focus. But just as the bulb slipped into place, the stool wobbled.
"Ah!" The sound escaped him.
He lost his balance - but never fell. Strong hands caught his waist and set him firmly on the floor. It happened in an instant, and suddenly Minjun was standing with Hyuk's body heat close against him.
Their faces were too near. Breath mingled. The faint haze of the alpha's pheromones wrapped around him - not overwhelming, but enough to make his blood race.
Minjun looked up - and, almost without thinking, leaned forward. Their lips met.
The kiss was brief, soft, almost hesitant. Like an accident. But in that "accident" lived all the pent-up tension: gratitude, embarrassment, the pull he could no longer deny.
Hyuk didn't pull away. For a few seconds, he seemed to test if this was truly happening. Then his hands pressed more firmly at Minjun's waist. He kissed back - slow, careful, but sure.
Minjun's fingers trembled. He didn't dare move, afraid to break the moment. Hyuk's scent was gentle, yet in his head it rang louder than the glow of the newly replaced lights. Everything about it felt dangerous and sweet at once.
Minjun was the first to pull away - abruptly, as if startled by himself. His cheeks burned, his eyes darted, his hands shook.
Hyuk only looked at him steadily, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. Not a smirk - more an acknowledgment: yes, it happened, and no, he wasn't going to deny it.
***
The room fell into silence again. Sunset spilled golden stripes across the walls. The new bulbs shone steadily overhead, but neither of them hurried to switch them on.
Minjun stepped aside to hide his fluster, fussing with the books on his shelf. His fingers shook. Inside, everything still buzzed from the kiss.
Hyuk quietly packed the tools. His movements were calm, unhurried, but carried a new kind of softness - the kind that only comes after crossing an unseen line.
Minjun stole a glance at him, then turned away quickly. His heart carried both panic and a strange, intoxicating thrill.
Something had changed. And there was no pretending otherwise anymore.