Chapter 135

In this pheromone matching, Gyeol’s name was called second.

The moment he entered the Pheromone Booth and the first pheromones began to fill the room, Gyeol noticed that the concentration was far stronger than before.

They were unfamiliar pheromones. The sensation against his skin, the scent—every part of it was new.

They’re Gyujin’s.

Certain of it, Gyeol deliberately relaxed his tense body. He released the strength from his fingertips and toes and focused on the flow of the pheromones entering through his breathing, then leaving unchanged with each exhale.

Gyujin’s pheromones were not unpleasant, but they were far from Gyeol’s taste. They had a weight to them that differed from Yo Han’s and carried a faintly exotic fragrance. Rather than heating his body, they seemed to calm it.

Good. Pass.

Next came Jun Shin’s pheromones, followed by Sun Choi’s. While the two scents passed through the booth, Gyeol clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and waited in silence.

He tried to suppress his emotions as much as possible, but sadness slowly began to overtake his body. Hot tears pooled beneath his closed eyelids.

Sun’s pheromones, which had so gladly wrapped around Gyeol the last time, now left him feeling unbearably sorrowful.

He had once skimmed an article about ongoing research suggesting that the way a person perceived pheromones could change according to their feelings for the other person. Apparently, the theory had not been entirely without merit.

After the pheromones faded completely, there was a brief interval before the next scent began to flow.

Gyeol calmed himself and deliberately thought of Yuli.

I can’t let my emotions distract me.

Because some Alpha pheromones—

I’ve already decided who I’m going to choose anyway. As long as I don’t show too much of a reaction inside the booth...

—struck like a natural disaster.

“Mm....”

Preparing himself had been useless.

The instant the fourth pheromones began to flow, Gyeol instinctively covered his mouth and bowed his head.

“Ah....”

A moan escaped him before he could stop it. It felt as though the pheromones were clinging to and penetrating every opening in his body—not only his eyes, nose, and mouth, but the pores across his skin, his cells, every minute part of him.

“......”

Thud. Gyeol’s upper body collapsed forward. This was beyond a matter of holding back. He felt as though another moan would slip out.

Yo Han’s thickened pheromones surrounded Gyeol’s body in an instant.

Consumed it.

He thought he had tried not to breathe. But these were not the kind of pheromones that passed through the lungs and flowed back out again. The moment he inhaled them, they would enter his bloodstream, spread through his body, and paralyze him all the way to his limbs.

“Ah... ngh....”

The reaction behind came faster than the one in front. While the sensation of blood gathering below his stomach rose with a dull heaviness, the entrance behind was already twitching and beginning to grow wet.

It itched. No—did it itch? The feeling was too intense to describe with something as simple as that.

He wanted to touch himself. No, he wanted someone else to touch him. He wanted fingers inside him, stirring through his depths. He wanted his front gripped and stroked at the same time. He wanted to tear off his clothes and press bare skin against bare skin.

He wanted mouths, lips meeting...

The moment the thought went that far, the sensation of kissing Yo Han in that hotel years ago came vividly back to life. Each time that wet piece of flesh licked along his mouth, the fuse inside his head had flickered on the verge of burning out.

He wanted to sever the fuse with his own hands. That was how desperately he wanted to reach some kind of climax.

The same impulse as back then set his entire body on fire. His hands trembling violently, Gyeol raked his fingertips over the empty table as though trying to dig into it.

“Hah... ha....”

The time had surely been divided evenly, yet his exposure to Yo Han’s pheromones felt endless.

“Ngh... ah....”

Get a grip, Gyeol Go.

Repeating the words desperately, he struck his forehead against the table several times, trying somehow to summon Yuli into his blinking, fading mind.

It was no use. He did not know anymore.

His head was going numb.

His vision turned hazy, then filled with a spreading red glow, like a warning alarm.

All the heat had gathered below. He was drenched behind. Panting, Gyeol bit down on his curled lower lip and groaned.

Yo Han Sung.

He felt as though he might say the pheromones’ owner’s name aloud.

Yo Han...

He could not.

Yo Han...

At that moment, he felt something surge out from the front. It was not ejaculation. A large amount of precum had spilled from him.

I want to touch myself...

His mind slipped beyond the edge of a dizzying abyss. He could no longer maintain his reason.

No...

Images of Yo Han flooded his mind in scattered flashes.

His smiling eyes. His ears, which turned red only very rarely. The large hand that had stroked Gyeol’s hair. The rounded, solid swell of his shoulders. The veins standing out along his forearms. His lips, flushed red with blood. The sharply defined curves of muscle beaded with moisture. His low laughter. His lips. His breath. His hands. The hands that had roamed over Gyeol’s back. Saying it was not enough, that he wanted more, that the impulse he felt toward Gyeol was nothing other than—

Touch me...

At that moment, the pheromones filling the room vanished all at once.

It did not take very long for Gyeol’s reason to return, but he could not bring himself to lift his head from the table. He remained frozen in the same position until Tommy’s pheromones had passed.

Until the very end.

Gyeol Go, please select a pheromone and exit the booth.

He knew he had to leave, but he could not make himself move. The heat had not yet faded from his body.

How was he supposed to walk out like this? Both his front and back were wet. He had no idea what his pants looked like or what expression was on his face. How in the world was he supposed to go outside in this state?

He swore he had never regretted appearing on R-Connect before. No matter how difficult, exhausting, or overwhelming it became, this was something he had chosen. It was an opportunity granted to someone who had nothing, a place others could not reach no matter how desperately they wanted it. He had always told himself he should be grateful.

But at this moment, he regretted joining this insane program. He regretted arrogantly assuming that the stories about contestants getting erections or masturbating because they could not overcome their arousal had nothing to do with him.

I don’t know what to do.

Still trapped in the lingering heat, Gyeol felt like crying.

What do I do...

Gyeol Go.

“I’ll choose... pheromone number four.”

Gyeol recited the words, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible.

You are confirming your choice as pheromone number four. Is that correct?

“...Yes.”

Confirmed. Please exit the booth.

Now he truly had to leave. He could not delay any longer.

Only {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} then did the tips of his bandaged fingers begin to throb. Thanks to diligent treatment, disinfection, and repeated changes of gauze and bandages, the split skin had closed and fresh tissue was gradually growing in. But after scraping the table so violently moments ago, there was no way they would not hurt.

Gyeol slowly rose to his feet. Unable to lift his head, he remained deeply bowed as he struggled with himself.

He felt like he was going to cry. What was he supposed to do?

No, crying was not the problem.

Right. He had to try something. Anything. He would rather cry and beg, cling to the production staff while pretending to be a lunatic.

He would plead with them to think of something, give him a blanket, protect him from this one thing.

Driven to the edge, his thoughts raced in a direction they normally never would have taken.

Whatever worked was still a solution. Any means was still a means. So he had to throw away his pride and deliberately mention words like filming or cameras, forcing them to edit the scene out—

“Wait! You can’t do this!”

“You can broadcast this.”

A small commotion from outside the booth scattered Gyeol’s attention.

“No, Yo Han...!”

“You’re already filming, aren’t you?”

“That’s not the issue...!”

The door flew open, and outside light poured in. The inside of the Pheromone Booth was dim, so Gyeol could not immediately make out the face of the man standing with the sun behind him.

“......”

He could not see his face clearly, but he thought he saw the only visible part of it—his lips—move.

Fuck.

Then Gyeol’s eyes adjusted to the light, and Yo Han’s face came into view.

He looked furious.

Without hesitation, Yo Han pulled off his shirt, spread it wide like a blanket, and bent toward Gyeol.

“I’m going to pick you up. Is that okay?”

“......”

Afraid his voice would come out choked with tears, Gyeol could not answer. He only nodded.

Yo Han bent down and spread the shirt wide to cover Gyeol’s lower body. Then he slid one arm beneath Gyeol’s shoulders and the other beneath his knees and lifted him. He pressed the back of Gyeol’s head against his chest, hiding his face.

Yo Han did not leave immediately after picking him up. Instead, he tilted his head and whispered quietly beside Gyeol’s ear.

“The chair is clean. Don’t worry.”

The instant Gyeol heard that gentle voice, a sob surged into his throat. Instead of answering, he pressed himself closer against Yo Han’s chest.

“I’ll take him back to the lodging. If my turn was supposed to be early, could you move me farther down the order?”

Yo Han pulled open the door of the Pheromone Booth.

At Producer Yoo’s direction, the staff members who had tried to stop him moments earlier had all stepped back. Only the camera crew remained busy filming the two of them.

“Yes. Your turn is later in the order, so that’s fine. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

The contestants murmured among themselves. Jun or Sun seemed to add something worried, but Gyeol did not have the capacity to understand what they were saying.

As though he understood how Gyeol felt, Yo Han did not walk directly across the contestants’ line of sight. Instead, he took a mountain path around the back of the booth, where there were no cameras.

Afraid he might fall as his body swayed in the air, Gyeol wrapped his arms tightly around Yo Han’s neck.

“...You’re okay.”

Yo Han spoke quietly. It was not a question.

“You’re okay.”

After whispering it once more, he said nothing else until they reached the lodging.

But the arms holding Gyeol felt firmer than usual.