The scent of a hospital corridor was always distinctive - a mixture of antiseptic, paper, and something faintly metallic. Minjun sat on a hard plastic chair, clutching a slip of paper in his hands. His heart was beating a little faster than usual, and his palms kept reaching for his knees as if to find some support.
A routine visit to the gynecologist was a duty for every omega. It seemed like nothing out of the ordinary, but for Minjun, it was a real test: everything felt too official, too revealing of his vulnerability.
"Kim Minjun," a nurse's voice called.
He took a deep breath and went in. The doctor - a middle-aged woman with a tired but attentive gaze - greeted him calmly. The questions were familiar: his routine, stress, sleep, his cycle. Minjun answered honestly, trying not to let the tremor in his voice show.
"Everything's fine," she concluded, making a note. "You're healthy. The most important thing is to make sure you get enough rest and don't overdo it. Your body is still adapting to living on its own."
As he left the clinic, he took a deep breath of the cool air, as if washing away the remnants of the sterile atmosphere. The doctor's words still swirled in his head, but another feeling was slowly building on top of it - a light anticipation. He was supposed to see Hyuk today. And the mere thought of it warmed him more than any medicine.
***
Around noon, the doorbell rang.
"Hey," Hyuk said, holding a container of kimchi. The spicy, sharp, and homey aroma immediately chased away the cold from the street. "I made too much. Thought I'd share."
"Thanks..." Minjun lowered his voice, as if afraid of sounding too happy. "By the way, I need your help. A shelf in the closet is crooked. I tried to fix it myself, but... it didn't work out."
Hyuk nodded and, put the container on the table, and took out a toolkit. In the hallway, between the wall and the closet, the shelf looked pathetic: crooked, as if it were tired. Minjun handed him a screwdriver, and their fingers touched for a second. This simple touch sent a shiver down Minjun's skin. He quickly looked away, but the feeling lingered.
They worked on the shelf for a couple more minutes, and in that confined space, every lean and every movement felt too close. Their shoulders brushed, their breaths mingled.
The shelf was in place, but the tension in the air remained.
Hyuk's phone rang. A few short phrases - and he looked at Minjun.
"My sister wants me to babysit my niece. Do you want to come with me?"
Minjun nodded before he had a chance to think.
***
Ari met them at the gate, shining as if she herself had become a small sun.
"Unnnncle!" she cried out brightly, running to Hyuk and wrapping her arms around his neck. Then she noticed Minjun. She squinted for a second, as if sizing him up, and then her face lit up with a wide smile. "Who's this?"
"This is Minjun," Hyuk replied calmly, setting her on the ground.
"Minjun!" The girl immediately grabbed his hand. "Let's go play!"
She didn't even ask if he wanted to. She pulled him along with such confidence, as if she had known him her whole life. Minjun was flustered but let himself be led away. Something inside him softened - he had never felt a child accept him so immediately, without hesitation.
The rooms filled with laughter. Ari commanded like a little general: she stacked blocks above her head, demanded that Minjun do different voices for characters from a book, and laughed when he tried too hard to change his intonation. She brought a box of markers and sat him down to draw. Their fingers got stained with colors, and the pages were covered with little houses, flowers, and funny stick figures.
"You draw so well!" she said excitedly, looking at his uneven lines. "Better than Uncle!"
"Hey," Hyuk grumbled from the kitchen, but there was a smile in his voice.
Ari proudly tilted her nose up. "You're my friend now anyway. Come over more often, okay? I want you to always play with me!"
The words were childlike, but they resonated surprisingly deeply in Minjun's heart. He smiled gently, stroked her hair, and whispered:
"If your uncle lets me, I'll come."
Ari nodded in satisfaction and pulled him into the game again. At one point, while they were building a tower, Minjun looked up and met Hyuk's eyes. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, and just watching. He didn't interfere or distract them - he just observed. There was nothing unnecessary in his gaze, just a quiet, warm expression that made Minjun's cheeks flush immediately. He quickly looked away, but his heart was still beating too fast.
When Ari finally got tired, her eyes started to droop right in the middle of a story. She fell asleep, clutching a toy to her chest. Minjun carefully adjusted the blanket, lingering for a moment, and quietly left the room.
***
Silence stood in the yard. The air smelled of damp grass and night coolness, and the moon reflected in the calm surface of the pond. The city was a distant murmur, but here it was so quiet, as if the world was holding its breath.
"It's so peaceful here..." Minjun whispered, hugging himself.
A warm palm touched his fingers, cautiously, as if testing his reaction. Minjun shivered, but didn't pull away. A faint background of Hyuk's pheromones slid through the air: steady, confident, and unobtrusive. A warmth ran down his skin, and his breathing became ragged.
They were silent until Hyuk leaned in closer. His fingers lightly touched Minjun's chin, tilting his face up. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them and the soft moonlight.
Their lips met cautiously, like a shy question. Minjun froze, and then, as if surrendering to his own heart, he returned the kiss. A light shiver ran through his body; his chest tightened - and at the same time, it felt free.
He stumbled, and Hyuk's strong arms caught him, steadying him. The touch was reassuring, like a promise: "I've got you."
The kiss became a little more confident. Warm, lingering, with a taste of something new and unknown. It wasn't greedy - but it held more than words could express.
When they parted, the world remained the same - but for Minjun, it had changed. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like the whole yard could hear it.
He looked away, but the feeling of Hyuk's lips, his hands, and his quiet, confident scent lingered for a long time.
***
The evening continued inside the house. They put away toys, carried dishes to the kitchen, and stacked up scattered books. The simplest things - a dropped spoon, a casual brush of shoulders, a quiet laugh - were now filled with a soft, almost unbearable tension.
And it was in this silence, among these simple gestures, that Minjun understood: days like this become memories that last a long time.