It felt like his whole body had been crushed. He’d never been more painfully aware of every bone, every vertebra in his spine. Even his butt ached, stinging like someone had beaten him black and blue.
“Ugh…”
Groaning, Eun-jo sat up and looked around. The room was familiar—looked like Jin Mu-seong had brought him back to the dorm.
Guess he does have a shred of decency.
Moving like a rehab patient, Eun-jo hunched over and slowly slipped into his slippers. He figured the only reason he hadn’t woken up in a wreck was thanks to Jung Tae-seok’s healing powers.
Still wincing, Eun-jo turned toward the living room—and spotted another pair of slippers on the floor. Same color as his. Only… someone was already wearing them.
He lifted his head and saw Jin Mu-seong leaning against the doorway. Looked like he’d swung by his own dorm—he was dressed comfortably now, unlike yesterday. A black knit sweater and matching pants clung to his broad frame, and above that was his annoyingly perfect face.
Their eyes met. Jin Mu-seong’s lips curved into a calm, self-satisfied smile.
Eun-jo’s scowl deepened. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Couple hours, give or take.”
Couple hours? Doing what, exactly? Maybe his face said it all, because Jin Mu-seong just shrugged and said,
“Figured I should stick around and look after you. After doing what I did.”
“…You do know what you did, right?”
“Sure. Like someone said—I’ve got a conscience.”
Jin Mu-seong let out a quiet chuckle and strolled out of the room. Eun-jo followed him slowly into the living area, where the scent of something delicious hit him like a wave.
“Sit. Let’s eat.”
Jin Mu-seong placed a plate of omurice down on the round table, looking every bit like the man of the house.
Eun-jo still wasn’t thrilled that he was here—but damn, he was starving. Now that he thought about it, things had been so hectic lately—constant crashes, bangs, and chaos—that he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in ages. Just the occasional energy bar or whatever junk he could scrounge up.
Eun-jo let out a strained groan as he sank into the chair, moving like someone sore all over after a brutal gym session. Across the table, Jin Mu-seong slid over a bowl of soup and a spoon.
“There was nothing in your fridge. Do you even eat like a human being? This place is a disaster, seriously. I’ve never seen a home this bad.”
“It’s just my taste. If you’re in someone else’s house, maybe don’t run your mouth.”
“What kind of taste even is this?”
Truthfully, Eun-jo didn’t know why his place looked the way it did either. Still…
“You’re really the last person who should be criticizing someone else’s taste, aren’t you?”
He glared at him. If their first time had revealed anything, it was Jin Mu-seong’s very specific tastes—like fucking his partner in front of an audience.
Definitely the domineering type. The kind who had to mark his territory—ejaculating in someone while everyone was watching, just to announce, this one’s mine.
Even slamming it deep like that… probably part of that same twisted need to dominate.
The tougher the opponent, the more intense the urge to conquer. Not that Eun-jo planned to roll over and give in—so there was no point pretending otherwise.
A smooth voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
“What, not a fan of my taste?”
“…If you cook me omurice every morning, I might change my mind.”
With a pout, Eun-jo picked up his spoon—only for Jin Mu-seong to burst into laughter and swipe the plate right off the table.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
Jin got up and opened one of the kitchen cabinets. What had seemed empty before was now packed with canned goods, sauces, and instant meals.
Is he… actually a decent guy?
Eun-jo blinked, surprised.
“Almost forgot.”
Jin Mu-seong pulled out a bottle of ketchup, popped the cap, and aimed it over the fluffy egg blanket. With a loud squelch, the ketchup oozed out as he moved his hand deliberately.
What appeared wasn’t a heart. Wasn’t a cute “babe” or “sweetie,” either. It was a dick.
Eun-jo instantly took it all back.
Watching Eun-jo’s expression crumple, Jin smiled sweetly, eyes curving. Eun-jo slammed his spoon on the table and shouted.
“Are you out of your damn mind?!”
“You didn’t know?”
Jin answered casually, resting his chin on his hand. His lips curled in that irritatingly smug way.
“I’ve been like this for a while.”
“You weren’t even trying to hide it from me, were you?”
“Not after meeting you. If anything, you’ve made it worse.”
Eun-jo shut his mouth, speechless. He’d survived the entertainment industry and all its freaks, but he’d never met someone like Jin Mu-seong. Calm as ever, Jin carved into the egg—shaped unmistakably like the head of a dick—and lifted the spoon.
“Say ah.”
Could I seriously get Imprinted by someone like this?
What if I just refuse? All the way to the end. Just don’t give in.
For the first time, Eun-jo doubted his own ability. He stared at Jin as the man tapped the spoon gently against his lower lip.
“If you don’t want to open up for this, I’ve got something else…”
Before he could say anything worse, Eun-jo clamped down on the spoon with his mouth. Jin grinned, clearly satisfied, and loaded another bite of omurice.
For once, it was a strangely peaceful morning between them.
***
For two full days, Eun-jo had been calling Jung Tae-seok nonstop through the pager—but hadn’t even seen a thread of his clothes.
Slumped in the Guiding Room, Eun-jo furiously jabbed the pager again and again. Call. Rejected. Call. Rejected. Massive letters flashed across the screen without pause.
In other words, Jung Tae-seok was hitting decline just as obsessively.
“Goddamn…”
What’s with my precious little Esper acting like this? Eun-jo muttered, letting his forehead fall against the desk with a defeated sigh.
“Everything was going perfectly…”
They’d had mind-blowing sex. He’d secured the coveted role of “the only Guide who actually gives a damn.” Hell, he’d even thrown in the whole fragile and vulnerable act.
But then—like a lightning bolt—realization struck. Eun-jo snapped his head up and stared at the pager.
Even without touching it, the screen kept flashing: Reject. Reject. Reject.
“No way… is it because I coughed up blood?”
Jung Tae-seok had started avoiding him the very day Eun-jo collapsed in the Center Director’s office. If Tae-seok thought the Guiding sessions were physically harming him, it made sense that he’d start dodging them.
Sure, sex with him was draining as hell—but it wasn’t like Eun-jo was on death’s door. He could manage.
“So my sweet little Esper’s been running away because he’s worried about me, huh?”
The misunderstanding now painfully clear, Eun-jo let out a long sigh. If he kept relying on the pager, he’d never see Tae-seok again. Shoving it into his pocket, he stepped out of the Guiding Room.
The moment he hit the hallway, he could feel eyes on him—sideways glances and whispered stares. Even though the rumors had been cleared up, a lot of people at the Center still believed Kim Min-jae’s lies. Eun-jo didn’t spare them a single glance as he made his way toward the railing.
The Center was designed like a giant circle, with the lobby at the center and hallways wrapping around it on every floor. That meant you could look down and see most of the building from anywhere.
Should I just go to his dorm?
He was debating it, thinking back to the place Tae-seok had stayed temporarily, when something familiar caught his eye—a head of hair he’d recognize anywhere. Down on the next floor, near the railing.
“Ah!”
Eun-jo hurried down the stairs, trailing after him. For some reason, Tae-seok’s strides looked extra fast today—maybe because of those long legs.
If I run, he might hear and bolt. Eun-jo picked up the pace, quietly.
Tae-seok stopped at the far end of the hallway, knocked twice on a door, and slipped inside.
It wasn’t the Director’s office. Not the training room. Not one of the shared offices.
His personal office, maybe?
Eun-jo hesitated for a beat, then grabbed the doorknob.
“Huh—?!”
Suddenly the door flew open. A large hand yanked him inside, and his body hit the floor with a hard thud.
“Tae-seok, wait—I’m not feeling—ugh!”
His hair was roughly pulled back, snapping his head upward. Forced to look up, Eun-jo stared into the face of the man standing over him—dressed in a fully buttoned uniform that screamed rigid control.
Ah.
It was Park Se-yul, leader of Team A.
Eun-jo looked up at him, eyes narrowing. Park Se-yul, with his shirt buttoned to the very top like some uptight school principal. One of the most major characters in the original novel.
Right… he had ice powers.
Not only did he command Team A—a squad made entirely of S-Rank Espers—but his ability to manipulate ice for both offense and defense made him a star both nationally and abroad. According to the novel, foreign organizations practically fought over him every year, trying to lure him away.
