The Drunken Truth

Clatter!

The spoon that had been resting on the edge of the table struck the floor with a sharp metallic ring. It had been knocked off by Yoon Dae-eon’s elbow as he set down his glass. Instantly, the boisterous chatter at the table died down, and all eyes shifted to him. Kim Ye-jun was the first to pounce.

“Are you drunk?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Huuuh? I’m not drunk at aaaaall!”

Beside Ye-jun, Oh Dong-chol was already swaying, his eyes half-lidded as he shook his head slowly. That nasal tone was a surefire sign that Dong-chol had crossed the limit. Instead of pointing it out, Dae-eon raised his head and scanned the surroundings with a slightly glazed look.

“Hey, Oh Dong-chol. I’m saying this for your own good—don’t pass out face-down. Lean to the side. You spilled booze over there.”

“Kim Ye-juuuun, I’m out of driiiiinks.”

“F***, why is this guy leaning on me?! I’m not your boyfriend!”

Ye-jun and Yoon Ju-myeong were occupied with the drunken Dong-chol wedged between them, pushing and pulling him back and forth. Jung Yoon-ki wasn’t much better; he’d been holding his forehead for a while now as if nursing a headache, staying silent with his head bowed.

Dae-eon looked at Yoon-ki and asked softly, “Yoon-ki, does your head hurt?”

“Huh? No—well, yeah, a little……”

The drinking session, which had kicked into high gear once Yoon Ju-myeong arrived, was now at its peak. Bottle after bottle had been exchanged—an inevitable outcome when drinking with a heavyweight like Kim Ye-jun.

Dae-eon decided it was time to wrap things up. But just as he opened his mouth to suggest leaving, a staff member approached.

“Here’s a fresh spoon.”

“Ah, thank you.”

They must have seen him drop his. Dae-eon took the spoon and set it on the table, then leaned down to look for the one he’d dropped. He wanted to make sure it wasn’t a tripping hazard.

However, no matter where he looked near his feet, the spoon was nowhere to be found. It shouldn’t have rolled that far. As he leaned further down to peer into the dark corners under the table—

His head brushed against Seon Ji-ha’s thigh.

He felt Ji-ha flinch violently. Realizing he’d startled him, Dae-eon said in a muffled, apologetic voice from under the table, “Senior, sorry. Just a second. Let me just find this spoon……”

Where did it go?

When it didn’t appear even after a thorough search, Dae-eon wondered if it had rolled under his own chair. He placed a hand on Ji-ha’s thigh to steady himself as he craned his neck even further. It was purely to keep his balance.

“Yoon Dae-eon, what the f*** are you doing?”

Dae-eon, who was practically folded in half, was suddenly hoisted up by the scruff of his neck. He turned his head to see Yoon Ju-myeong looking at him with a face full of disgust.

“I dropped my spoon.”

“Then why the f*** are you searching for it like that?!”

“Because I dropped it!”

“Use mine!”

“I already have one.”

Dae-eon pointed to the clean spoon the waiter had just brought. Ju-myeong gritted his teeth, looking like he was about to burst a vein.

“Then why is your hand on that bastard’s thigh while you’re looking?!”

“Huh?”

Blinking, Dae-eon looked down. Sure enough, his hand was resting firmly on Seon Ji-ha’s lap. He also noticed that Ji-ha’s face, partially hidden by his hair, was flushed a deep, burning red.

“Ah…… sorry, Senior.”

Normally, Dae-eon would have overreacted or jumped away, but in his current state, he just pulled his hand back with a blunt nonchalance. Then, he suddenly stood up.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

Without another word, he bolted for the exit. Neither Ji-ha nor Ju-myeong had time to stop him. Watching his retreating back, Kim Ye-jun muttered, “That punk is drunk too.”

“……You knew?” Ju-myeong asked.

“Duh. When Yoon Dae-eon gets drunk, he gets quiet. Then he makes a break for the bathroom.”

Ju-myeong, knowing his old friend’s habits, clicked his tongue. Meanwhile, Ye-jun stood up, hauling Dong-chol up with him.

“We’re heading out. Tell Dae-eon.”

“I’ll go too,” Jung Yoon-ki added, standing up as if he’d been waiting for the cue. Ye-jun gestured toward Dong-chol, indicating he couldn’t take two people, but Yoon-ki waved him off, saying he could get home fine on his own.

As they filtered out, Yoon-ki paused. He looked down at Seon Ji-ha, who was still sitting silently.

“Senior.”

“…….”

“That…… never mind. Forget it.”

Yoon-ki didn’t seem entirely wasted, but his headache was clearly bothersome. He clutched his forehead and walked out of the pub. Now, only Seon Ji-ha and Yoon Ju-myeong remained at the table.

Ji-ha had barely touched a drop of alcohol the entire time. He hadn’t spoken much while the others were shouting and laughing, making it seem like he found the whole gathering tedious. He just sat there in his usual posture, head slightly bowed.

“Hey,” Ju-myeong called out.

Ji-ha ignored him.

Thump!

Ju-myeong slammed his soju glass onto the table with enough force to crack it. He gritted his teeth and tried again.

“Hey.”

“…….”

“F***ing answer me, will you?”

“…….”

No matter how many times he called, Ji-ha remained a silent wall. Initially infuriated by the blatant disrespect, Ju-myeong eventually let out a dry snort and began talking to himself.

“You think you’re the first one?”

At that, Ji-ha slowly lifted his head. His eyes, barely visible through his thick bangs, finally met Ju-myeong’s. Ju-myeong realized he had finally piqued the man’s interest.

“You think you’re the only bastard who tried to pull some moves on Yoon Dae-eon?”

“……How many were there……?”

Those were the first words Ji-ha had ever spoken to Ju-myeong. A question about how many people had approached Dae-eon. Ju-myeong let out a hollow laugh, reeling at the absurdity.

To Ju-myeong, Yoon Dae-eon was that kind of guy. Excessively, pointlessly kind.

Objectively, he was ordinary. He didn’t have a sharp, striking face like Ju-myeong, nor was he famously beautiful like Jung Yoon-ki. He was just a bit pale, with deep dimples when he smiled, and a habit of treating everyone well.

“Whenever we went on school trips, his name was the only one you heard.”

“…….”

“F***, every time some drunk kid blurted out the name of the person they liked, it was always Yoon Dae-eon.”

That was just who he was. The kind of person where people would say, ‘Who would like a guy like him?’ while secretly harboring feelings for him in private.

The irony was that even “the” Yoon Ju-myeong was no different. He just stayed by Dae-eon’s side because his feelings ran a little deeper than the rest. Ju-myeong felt a pang of bitterness and refilled his empty glass, tossing it back.

“But you know why they all failed?”

“…….”

“Because I made sure they failed.”

“…….”

“And I failed, too.”

Ju-myeong actually felt a flicker of pity for Seon Ji-ha. He hadn’t cleared the path around Dae-eon just for Dae-eon’s sake, or even for his own. It wasn’t just because he was jealous or worried someone would take him away.

“Nobody can succeed.”

Ju-myeong had failed. He knew this fact with absolute certainty. And he knew exactly why.

“Because that punk is already imprinted.”

It was then that Seon Ji-ha’s eyes snapped wide.

Seeing Ji-ha’s shock, Ju-myeong smirked. It looked like he was about to add one more person to the list of failures today.

“……That……”

“Didn’t you ever think it was weird? How insensitive that guy is to pheromones? Even when he’s sitting right next to people like me or Jung Yoon-ki who can’t even control our scent properly?”

Ju-myeong filled his glass to the brim. He was reaching his limit. This would be the last one. Knowing his capacity exactly, he downed the final glass without hesitation.

“At first, I thought he was one of those Betas you only hear stories about.”

He really had. That was the very reason they had become close in the first place. One day, Ju-myeong had forgotten his suppressors and was huddled in a corner, trembling as he struggled to suppress a sudden surge of Alpha pheromones. That was when Dae-eon approached him.

‘Hey. Are you in a Rut?’

‘……F** off.’*

‘You shouldn’t be going into heat here.’

Dae-eon had rubbed the back of his neck, looking troubled. He told Ju-myeong to wait right there. Since they were on the stairs leading to the roof, no one was passing by, and a heavy silence settled once Dae-eon left.

Ju-myeong didn’t even have the strength to move his legs. But he had to move before the bell rang. A few minutes later, the sound of rapid footsteps approached.

Dae-eon was standing there, holding out medicine.

‘Here. You’re a Dominant Alpha, right?’

Dae-eon had asked with an uncertain voice. Ju-myeong had snorted—thinking ‘if this scent isn’t a Dominant Alpha’s, what is?’—and snatched the pills from his hand.

After thirty minutes, the pheromones finally began to settle. His mind clearing, Ju-myeong looked at the boy who had been waiting patiently in front of him.

‘……What are you? An Omega?’

Being in the same class, you picked up info whether you wanted to or not. He’d heard Dae-eon was a Recessive Omega.

Ju-myeong’s question sounded like a simple check of his dynamic, but the true meaning was: If you’re an Omega, why aren’t you reacting to my pheromones?

Dae-eon hadn’t answered that day. Ju-myeong had simply assumed he was just an exceptionally weak Recessive.

“But then, f***…… I saw it.”

“…….”

“The Imprint Certificate in that bastard’s house.”