Yejun took a deep breath as he collapsed into the first class seat, staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of him. As expected, they managed to secure the rights to the book series, with tentative promises to future works if the translation performed well. In hindsight, Yejun regretted that his mother hadn’t sent any sales leads with them, but he was sure he managed to secure a fair contract.

His phone vibrated in his carry-on and Yejun dug the device out, sighing heavily once he saw the message.

Jieun 🟢: Have a safe flight! Can’t wait to see you.

Yejun stared at the screen for a moment before slowly typing out a reply.

Yejun: I can’t wait either. Stay safe during your rut.

Yejun then quickly silenced her conversation, running a hand through his hair. He had started responding to Jieun with his usual enthusiasm, even though every text he sent made him sick. However, it was all a part of the plan. 

All things considered, the plan was simple: Yejun would move out on his own, building a small fund that was all his while working with Minjae to find proof of Jieun’s infidelity. Once they had proof, Yejun would give it to his mother and Jieun’s fathers, ending any talk of marriage. It was very likely that doing so would ruin Jieun’s career and any chance of her marrying another high class beta or even omega, but Yejun couldn't worry about that right now. 

She still texted him every day during the trip. Still acted as if she was excited for a future with him, to be married to him. It felt real and a small part of him wanted to believe it was. But every text also eroded something deep in his chest, even as he responded as the doting fiance. He needed to catch her cheating. 

He wanted to.

“May I?” Minjae’s voice made Yejun look up and he nodded, sitting up in his seat as Minjae took his seat next to the window. Yejun watched as the alpha sat, quickly closing the window and reclining the seat as the rest of the team took their seats in first class. 

Sometimes, Yejun still found it hard to believe that Minjae could use magic. He looked so… normal. Acted normal. The twins had taken him out to a Korean restaurant in the city and it was strange to see them be so typical. Seulgi teased her brother constantly. Minjae handled it with grace. 

They didn’t seem like magical beings to him. Minjae insisted that they weren’t gods or sinseon, although the alpha admitted he didn’t doubt the myths were based on beings like him. From what the twins were willing to explain, ifrits considered telling others what they were highly dangerous, and by telling Yejun, they were trusting he wouldn’t betray them. He didn’t feel like he had earned that trust.

“Is something wrong, Lim-ssi?” Minjae sat up slightly as Yejun took a deep breath, looking away once he realized he was staring again. “Are you worried about meeting Kwan-ssi when we get back?”

“I’ll be fine. I have a list of excuses to avoid intimacy with her,” Yejun muttered, rubbing the heel of his palm against his closed eyelid. He felt the pressure throbbing behind his temple, a reminder of how little sleep he’d managed. “She’ll be out of the office for another week anyway for her rut, and I won’t be back until later in the week.”

“You won’t?”

“My uncle’s chumo-sik is the day after we get back,” Yejun explained, a tight feeling in his chest. His mother didn’t like to talk about his uncle, although she insisted they hold his memorial every year. Yejun didn’t remember him at all, but it was the one time of year his older sister would be in Korea. Given everything, he was eager to see her again. 

“I see, then we’ll have to wait to get more information,” Minjae seemed deep in thought and Yejun resisted the urge to frown. Seulgi revealed that while Jieun herself never spoke to the omegas in translation, Woojin often did. She didn’t think much of it since omegas tended to hang out together, but given the recording, Minjae was more suspicious. Yejun didn’t know where Jieun went for her cycle, as she never allowed him to schedule her booth appointments and they couldn’t ask Seulgi for more help without risking her suspicion.

Yejun fastened his seatbelt as the onboard announcement chimed, a crisp voice in both Korean and English reminding passengers to power off devices and prepare for takeoff. He settled back, folding his hands over his stomach as the cabin lights dimmed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Minjae pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, brows drawn together in silent concentration. Yejun knew the other man was already working out the next steps, threading the tiny scraps of information into something actionable.

The low hum of the engines settled into a steady vibration under his palms, and Yejun folded his hands in his lap, willing his mind to quiet. He closed his eyes briefly, counting the seconds between the announcements. But even the familiar pre-flight instructions did nothing to settle the unease that twisted in his gut like a living thing.

He wasn’t ready to face her. He didn’t want to pretend to still care about her, but he knew Minjae was right. They needed to catch her in the act, and the best way to do that was to let her think she was still getting away with it. But considering how easily her lies had slid into their daily routine, he wondered if he would even recognize the truth when it finally came.

“It’ll be fine, Lim-ssi,” Minjae’s soft words made Yejun open his eyes, glancing at the alpha beside him. Minjae had his eyes closed, taking slow deep breaths as if he was nervous about flying. It seemed silly for a being who could use magic. “It’ll all work out. I won’t fail you.”

Yejun merely nodded, looking back down at his hands as the engines surged, pressing him gently into the seat. The lights outside blurred into long streaks as the plane gathered speed, then lifted, the subtle lurch of ascent making his stomach turn.

Yejun waited until the seatbelt sign flickered off and the attendants began moving through the cabin to pull out his laptop. He quickly loaded the report he had started the night before, wanting to make sure it was finished before they landed. He barely paid attention as the attendant placed a small bottle of water and menu on the tray. He wasn’t worried about lunch right now.

“Would you prefer coffee?”

Yejun blinked as he glanced over at Minjae. “What?”

“Would you prefer coffee? I noticed you seem to drink it while working,” the alpha repeated and Yejun blinked. Jieun always berated him for constantly drinking coffee, warning him that he was going to run himself into an early grave. Yejun looked at the bottle before picking it up and handing it to Minjae. 

The man took it, and Yejun watched as Minjae covered the bottle with both hands. There was only a slight moment where he thought he could see through his fellow team lead, but it passed, and Minjae handed him the can. It was chilled and he shook it slightly to properly mix the beverage.

“Thanks,” Yejun cleared his throat, noticing the slight smile on Minjae’s face. “Won’t someone ask how I got coffee, though?”

“No. To everyone else it still looks like a bottle of water.” Minjae’s smile grew and he settled back into his seat.  Yejun took a cautious sip of the coffee, testing the flavor. It wasn’t the best he’d ever had, but it was real, cold, and strong enough to cut through the sluggishness that clung to the back of his skull like damp wool. He exhaled, a thin thread of relief easing the tightness in his chest.

“Are there things you can’t do?”

“There’s a lot I can’t do and more I won’t do unless I have to,” Minjae didn’t open his eyes. “Small illusions and uses are okay.”

“Do they tire you?” Yejun noticed as Minjae chuckled softly, leaning his seat back as he turned away from his fellow team lead. 

“Only big displays do, but like I said, I would never use that much unless I have to,” Minjae murmured, and Yejun glanced back at the can in his hand. If changing water into coffee and casting an illusion was small, it made him more curious about what a big display of magic would be. “Enjoy your coffee, Lim-ssi.”

Yejun almost laughed but caught himself, pressing his lips together. It wasn’t funny, not really, but it was… reassuring. He took another sip of the coffee, setting the can down beside his laptop on the tray. He let his hand linger on the cold aluminum before returning his attention to the report.