For a Hungry Omega

Haon gathered the saliva in his mouth and swallowed, savoring the sweetness until it faded, then buried his face in his knees.

Then, suddenly, his eyes widened as he glanced toward the door. It was because a forgotten question mark had resurfaced from the hole in his memory. Finally.

“How did he know my name…?”

He couldn’t recall ever telling the man directly, but the faint memory of being startled when the man called him by name returned to him.

Now, it felt far too late to ask how he had found out, which left him conflicted.

Scratching his cheek, Haon stood up and looked around, trying to find a clock.

“Ah.”

That’s right—there wasn’t a clock.

He lightly tapped his forehead and checked the time on his phone instead.

It was 5:30 p.m.

Holy crap. He’d really been asleep all day.

If Seong-gu hyung hadn’t called, he probably would’ve slept straight through till dawn. Even back in the countryside, Haon was the type to sleep like a rock, barely waking at any sound once he was out. But ever since moving into the goshiwon, the uncomfortable bed had made him wake up frequently during the night.

This was the first time in a year and a half, since he came to Seoul, that he’d actually slept soundly. The fluffy bed made sleep feel even sweeter.

He did want to sleep a bit more, but curiosity got the better of him—he wanted to see what the man was up to. There were also some things he needed to ask.

Just as he was about to head out, he stopped and took a few steps back to grab the bag he’d left in the corner. He’d nearly forgotten the box of soy milk he’d brought to give the man.

But just as he picked it up, Haon paused, hesitated, then slowly set the box back down.

“Would he even drink this…?”

Come to think of it, there were people who didn’t like soy milk. Was it during his wedding hall serving job? During a break, when he drank the soy milk he’d brought from home instead of eating, one of the other part-timers told him soy milk made her stomach upset.

Haon, who didn’t have any food aversions, had been oddly fascinated to learn that some people couldn’t drink it.

After a brief moment of indecision, he stuffed the box back into his bag. He’d ask first if the man drank soy milk before offering it.

As he turned his head, his eyes caught the window, now tinged with a reddish hue. The sky was painted in vibrant shades of red. Haon stood still for a moment, gazing at the sunset-lit sky.

‘So pretty.’

After living in a goshiwon without windows, seeing such an open view made his chest feel strangely light and clear.

At first, the height had scared him, but now, it just looked stunning. The house fit the landlord perfectly. And at the same time, it felt like it didn’t suit him at all.

He blankly admired the ripening sky for a while, then slowly stepped out of the room. His light steps quickly grew heavy again the moment he opened the door.

‘Oh no. This is bad.’

As soon as he opened the door, a savory aroma welcomed him. No way… was dinner already being prepared?

Even though Haon had said with his own mouth that he’d eat together, he’d actually meant to say that his stomach wasn’t feeling well today.

For about three days after his heat ended, anything he tried to eat would come right back up before it even reached his stomach. He thought he might be able to eat a little by tomorrow evening, so he had agreed a bit too quickly…

“Did you sleep well?”

Just then, the man’s voice rang out. He was sitting on the sofa with his arm draped over the back, waving at him. He seemed to spend a lot of time lounging on the living room couch.

“You must be hungry.”

As if he’d been waiting for Haon to wake up, the man immediately headed into the kitchen. Since Haon had skipped lunch and slept all day, the man pulled out a chair at the dining table and gestured for him to sit. Without a word of protest, Haon ended up taking a seat at the table.

He couldn’t help it. A full spread of food was already prepared on the large dining table.

“I heard you eat pretty much anything, so I went with Korean food for now.”

Seeing that even the utensils were already laid out, it was obvious the man had really been waiting for him to wake up. Haon bit his lip as he looked over the neatly arranged side dishes. He felt thankful that the man had gone through the trouble of preparing dinner, but the thought of having to eat all of it already made his stomach churn.

“Go ahead and start.”

The man who had scooped out a bowl of rice for Haon waited for the soup on the induction to start boiling. Haon gulped as he looked at the bowl filled to the brim with white rice.

“I-I’ll wait. Let’s eat together…”

He wanted to delay eating as long as possible, so he insisted on waiting until the man sat down too. The man laughed as he dished out his own portion and said he’d be right there.

Please, take your time, Haon muttered sincerely under his breath.

“You’re really good at cooking.”

Looking around the table with a bit of discomfort, Haon spoke honestly. The side dishes looked so appetizing, like they had been bought from a store. And there were so many different kinds, too. When had he managed to prepare all of this?

“Wow… It seriously looks like food from a restaurant.”

“It is.”

The man watched Haon’s reaction with amusement, then confessed. All he’d done was plate the food and transfer the soup into pots after ordering it all in.

“I was asleep too. But I’ll make something really good tomorrow.”

You really don’t have to, Haon thought, but just gave a vague little bow of his head. Watching the man go out of his way to prepare a meal for him, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

“I’ll just bring this over.”

‘Now what’s that?’

As the man brought over a soup bowl, Haon’s attention immediately sharpened. It wasn’t the size of a regular soup bowl. The pot sitting on the induction stove was also quite large. The thought of what might be boiling inside made him even more anxious.

Ah… could it be…

Haon scrunched up his nose and leaned slightly forward toward the table. A familiar scent wafted up from the bubbling pot. Just then, the man asked if Haon liked chicken.

So it was samgyetang. This time, Haon nodded clearly.

Maybe it was because his grandmother had made it often—it didn’t really make him hungry, but it did bring him a comforting sense of familiarity.

“Thank God.”

The man, who had been carefully observing Haon’s expression, spoke in passing. He brought over steaming bowls, each holding a whole chicken.

When Haon reached out to help and started to rise from his chair, the man made a show of heading back to the kitchen and told him to just stay seated.

So, Haon sat quietly at the table again. Unlike earlier, his expression didn’t seem so gloomy. The man, too, looked somewhat relieved.

“Feel free to eat more if you’d like, but you don’t have to force yourself to finish everything.”

Gesturing for him to start eating, the man picked up his spoon. Haon glanced at the man’s rice bowl, which had about the same portion as his own, and silently wondered.

‘So he doesn’t eat as much as I thought.’

Seong-gu hyung always piled his rice so high it would nearly spill over the bowl.

“Haon-ssi, do you usually eat food on the bland side?”

The man had taken a sip of the samgyetang broth and was now looking at Haon.

“Uh… yes.”

As if that settled it, the man gave a single nod. Haon followed suit and cautiously brought a spoonful of broth to his mouth. Now he understood why he’d asked—it was indeed a bit lightly seasoned.

“It’s really good.”

Thinking the man was watching for his reaction, Haon made sure to say it before he could be asked. And it wasn’t just lip service—it was genuinely delicious. Though the seasoning was light, the broth was rich and had a clean, nourishing taste.

‘Exactly the kind of flavor Grandma would love.’

Her cooking always had that same mild yet deeply satisfying taste. The man was… no, his ordering skills were impressive.

The hot broth slid down his throat, warming his tense insides. Thanks to that, the food started to go down more easily.

“Haon-ssi.”

Just as he was chewing and swallowing a piece of torn chicken breast, the man called out. He waited patiently until Haon finished before continuing.

“Did you check your paycheck?”

“No, not yet.”

“It should be in. Check it later.”

Haon gave another quiet thank-you and scooped up a bit of rice, eating it together with the broth.

In truth, before falling asleep earlier, he had texted the manager. The man had said there was no need to contact them, but Haon had felt he should still explain the situation and let them know he’d be quitting due to personal circumstances. The manager had only replied with a short “Okay.”

‘Did he already know…?’

If the man who took him out of the changing room was the hotel’s managing director, then maybe he had spoken with the manager. That would explain why there were no issues and why he had been allowed to continue working afterward.

…Then what exactly was the relationship between the man and the hotel managing director? He said they met at the club, so maybe they were friends.

As he picked apart the chicken leg meat, Haon glanced subtly at the man. The man’s eyes were fixed on Haon’s spoon as it moved only between his rice bowl and the soup. When their eyes met, the man grinned and pushed a dish of rolled omelet toward him—coincidentally, the side dish Haon had just been about to pick up.

‘Well, there’s no real need to know what their relationship is.’

Deciding to focus on the meal, Haon quietly chewed and swallowed. Eventually, the memory of that day would fade anyway. There was no point in paying it too much mind. Thanks to the man, he had gotten his paycheck right away and now had some breathing room to look for a new place. That was enough.

“Haon-ssi, want to watch a movie after we eat?”

The man asked, watching Haon fondly as he took a bite of the rolled omelet.

Haon swallowed the last of the food in his mouth and opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated.

He pursed his now-moist lips and shifted his eyes slightly before speaking in a soft voice.

“But how did you know my name…?”

The rest of the question—know my name?—was barely audible.

The man fell silent for a moment, as if caught off guard by the unexpected question. Then, all of a sudden, he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Though his lips were hidden, the curve of his raised cheeks gave away his smile.

‘What’s so funny?’

“Ah, sorry.”

He quickly apologized, maybe worried Haon might have been offended, and lowered his hand as he tried to calm his grin.

“No, it’s just…” he trailed off, lightly clearing his throat.

“I just thought, you’re asking that pretty late.”

He added that it was only funny because of that. Feeling even more awkward, Haon reached a hand to his cheek again. Now that he thought about it, yeah… asking now was pretty late.

“You told me yourself. In your sleep.”

“In my sleep?”

Tilting his head, Haon fell silent again almost immediately. It didn’t take him long to realize the “sleep” the man was referring to wasn’t the nap he’d just woken up from. The man didn’t elaborate.

“What’s your family name?”

“Jung. It’s Jung Haon.”

“Ah, so it was Jung.”

The man murmured Jung Haon softly to himself, then rested his chin on his hand and stared at Haon intently—like he had something he wanted to say.

Sensing that gaze, Haon set down his spoon for a moment.

‘Did I miss something again?’ he wondered, running it over in his head until finally—ah.

“What movie?”

He remembered the man had asked if he wanted to watch a movie after dinner, and circled back to the question. The man’s eyes curved into a smile as he said he’d go look for something.

After that, the two focused on finishing their meal.