Minjun lingered at Hyuk's door, gathering his courage. It felt like only yesterday they had exchanged cautious words, and now something heavier hung between them - unseen, yet undeniable. Yesterday's glances and fleeting touches still echoed in his fingertips with a faint tremor.
Behind the door came familiar sounds: the soft scrape of a knife against a cutting board, the muted thud of a pot lid. Ordinary sounds of daily life, yet they carried more weight than any loud confession.
"It's open," Hyuk's voice called from inside.
Minjun stepped in carefully. The kitchen smelled of warm bread, herbs, and the faint sharpness of steeped tea. Hyuk stood by the stove, sleeves rolled up, his forearms moving with confident ease, as though every gesture was part of a well-rehearsed dance. Minjun's eyes lingered, then quickly dropped, flustered.
"You're right on time," Hyuk said without turning. "Tea's ready."
Minjun sat at the table, feeling the tension inside slowly dissolve. Maybe because Hyuk acted as though nothing had changed. Or maybe because in that simplicity lay the sense of safety he had always lacked.
***
Breakfast was simple: bread, vegetables, and tea. Yet in that simplicity, Minjun felt surprisingly at peace. They barely spoke - just short phrases, light gestures, quiet glances. It felt as if their connection was built less on words and more on the quiet fact of being together.
Afterward, Hyuk cleared the dishes and glanced at the empty box by the door.
"We need bags for the register," he said. "The old ones are out. Come with me?"
Minjun nodded a bit too quickly. His heart gave a small leap. A trip to buy bags wasn't special, but the fact that Hyuk asked him felt warmer than tea.
***
The air outside was cool. The asphalt glistened after the morning rain, drops still clinging to leaves, and the air smelled of wet earth and coffee from a nearby café. People hurried by: students with backpacks, a woman with a dog, a boy on a bike. Normally, the chaos would have drained Minjun, but beside Hyuk, it felt less noisy.
At the crosswalk, a tall man approached from the opposite side. His stare was too direct, too sharp. The other alpha's pheromones hit harshly, carrying a note of challenge. Minjun's heart stumbled in his chest. His fingers clenched around his backpack strap, and he instinctively moved closer to Hyuk.
"Well, well…" the stranger's gaze slid over him. "New, huh? Don't remember seeing your face."
His voice was rough, tinged with mockery. Minjun's chest tightened, the air growing thick. Heat rose to his cheeks, his breath uneven.
The scent was coarse, pressing, like a test meant to provoke. But then Minjun felt something else: Hyuk's steady, calm wave of pheromones. Not a sharp flare - just a firm boundary: Don't touch.
"Keep walking," Hyuk said, his voice even, never raised.
The alpha smirked, stepping closer - until he met Hyuk's gaze. Deep, steady. Strength unspoken but impossible to ignore.
"Tch. Fine," the stranger muttered, looking away. "Take your omega."
The word hit like a slap. Minjun clenched his teeth, fighting the tremor in his body. But Hyuk only rested a hand on his shoulder, guiding him gently forward.
"Let's go," he said simply.
Only once they turned the corner did the heavy scent fade, along with the tension. Minjun still shook, but beneath it he felt another presence - Hyuk's warmth, steady and grounding.
"You alright?" Hyuk asked quietly.
Minjun nodded, though he doubted his voice would work. In that moment, he realized: with this man beside him, even the worst encounters lost their power.
***
The household goods store smelled of paper and plastic. Long aisles stretched before them. Minjun paused by a shelf of colorful shopping bags.
"These look nicer," he said, pointing at the white ones with patterns.
"Nicer?" Hyuk raised an eyebrow. "They're bags. They don't care how they look."
Minjun flushed. "But it feels good when even the small things look neat."
Hyuk's gaze lingered on him a moment longer than needed. Then he picked up those exact bags and placed them in the basket.
"Then we'll take these."
A small smile tugged at Minjun's lips.
***
On the way back, the city no longer felt overwhelming. The breeze carried the scent of bread and coffee, lights glimmered in shop windows. Minjun walked beside Hyuk, trying not to lean too close, though he could still feel his warmth.
"You walk with more confidence now," Hyuk remarked quietly.
Minjun startled. "What?"
"I can see you're getting used to things."
He wanted to argue, but instead only nodded and turned away, hiding a faint smile.
***
Back at the store, they stacked the bags by the register. The task took only minutes, yet Minjun felt as though it mattered. Hyuk worked silently beside him, their hands brushing now and then as they adjusted the pile - and each fleeting touch stirred something deep inside him.
When everything was in place, Hyuk switched on the kettle.
"Let's take a break," he said.
They sat together at the counter. Tea steamed in their mugs, rain traced down the window, and the world outside seemed to slow. Their eyes met now and then, and in those pauses lay more than in any long conversation.
Minjun thought: it was days like this - trips for bags, small gestures, quiet tea - that built a new life. And maybe, just maybe, they were the beginning of something more.