Though he still looked completely defeated, the moment Lee Han-seo called his name, Park Woo-jun rushed over like a reflex. It wasn’t something he stopped to think about—his body just moved. And yet, even as he came over, his face was still sulky, lips trembling like he was about to cry.
Lee Han-seo, who had been wrestling for a while with the device connecting the chain to the bed’s headboard, was sweating buckets from the effort. He looked like he’d been trying everything short of breaking the thing with brute force. When he saw Woo-jun creeping over with that pitiful expression on his face, Han-seo’s temper exploded.
“Hey! What the hell are you pouting for, huh? Who do you think actually has the right to cry right now?!”
“B-but… But…”
They hadn’t really crossed paths much these past few months, but now those big, round eyes were starting to glisten again, like they always did before he cried. Seeing it head-on, Han-seo felt like he was going to lose his mind. He was about to scream himself hoarse. It had been a while, but today, Park Woo-jun was fully living up to his nickname: Sweet Potato—clogged, heavy, and impossibly frustrating.
Han-seo decided to sort out blame later. First, he had to deal with the crisis at hand. Shaking his bound wrist impatiently, he called out.
“Ah, fuck… Forget it—just come over here and undo this.”
Even if Woo-jun was the man he loved to death, Han-seo was seriously pissed this time. Still, he needed help right now, so he held back the scolding and softened his tone.
“Hmm? Woo-jun-ah, be good. Get the key. Come on, unlock me.”
Sweat rolled down his face, tracing along his jaw before dripping off his chin. Honestly, in his current state, Han-seo figured there wasn’t much difference between that sweat and his tears.
He coaxed him gently, practically begging now, and Park Woo-jun, still sniffling, finally reached toward his back pocket. The key should’ve been there. Han-seo watched his every move, holding his breath.
And then—
“Uh…?”
A sound no one ever wants to hear slipped out of Woo-jun’s mouth. A low, ominous gasp.
Han-seo instantly panicked. “What, what is it? What’s wrong? You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re kidding.”
But Park Woo-jun didn’t say a word. He just started frantically patting himself down. Inside jacket pockets. Front pants pockets. Even down to his socks—he searched every single spot like a man possessed.
“H-Han-seo… I think I…”
As expected—bad feelings were usually right. No matter how thoroughly he checked, there wasn’t so much as a jingle of metal to be heard.
“No. No. Don’t you dare fuck with me. I swear, I will actually lose it. This is a joke, right? You’re just messing with me, right?!”
“I think… I left the key at the office… Just wait a second, I’ll go grab it! I swear I’ll be right back. Twenty minutes. No—ten!”
“ARGH!! No, I can’t wait that long! I can’t!!”
“Uh…? Can’t wait for what…?”
Half-turned, ready to sprint out the door, Park Woo-jun froze mid-step and blinked, confused by Han-seo’s sudden outburst.
It had been a while, but truthfully, this wasn’t the first time Park Woo-jun had “locked up” Han-seo like this. He’d always lived with a constant hum of anxiety, like he needed it to breathe. And when that panic flared up, he resorted to desperate measures.
Every time it happened, Han-seo would groan and ruffle his hair like, You pathetic bastard, but he’d never reacted this strongly before—not like today.
Back then, most of those incidents happened before Woo-jun became a team leader. And whenever he tied Han-seo up, he’d lock himself in too—like a willing prisoner. Han-seo would laze around all day, ordering his boyfriend around like a personal servant. He even used to climb on top of him with the restraints still on, teasing him that it added a little spice.
So really, the reason this habit stuck was entirely Han-seo’s fault. Literally. Every. Single. Bit. Of. It.
“Park Woo-jun… You completely forgot how to measure the chain, didn’t you…? You absolute fucking lunatic… You couldn’t even leave enough slack so I could get to the bathroom…”
“……!!”
Whatever had overwhelmed him, Han-seo buried his face into the mattress and let out a muffled, ughhehhng, half-crying groan.
Getting cuffed? Trying to trap his beloved boyfriend in the room? Sure, it had been a while, but it wasn’t anything new. It was practically a game between them—no real harm. Definitely nothing to panic over.
Still groggy, Han-seo had glanced around earlier and figured, Ah, he must’ve been really anxious because of Julian Moore. If nothing serious comes up, I’ll just treat this like a little three-day vacation. That had been his whole train of thought. Maybe nap a bit longer, then have brunch?
And then… the urge hit. Pee. It was still manageable at first. Woo-jun usually left enough chain length for him to get to the en suite bathroom or the kitchen without issue.
But of all days, today had to be the one where everything went wrong. Thanks to Park Woo-jun’s idiotic decision to tie the rest of the chain into some decorative-looking bow, Han-seo could only take one step off the bed. One. Step. That was it.
Clink, clank. The chain clattered uselessly. If he’d at least tied the knot so it could be undone easily, he might’ve been able to shuffle over while still cuffed. But with an S-Class Esper tying it tight like a damn fortress, there was no way a Guide like him had the grip strength to undo it.
“Hik…! B-baby, why didn’t you just call me…”
“I fucking would have, you bastard. I left my phone on the living room couch last night… Fuck’s sake, I’m buying a smart speaker. I’m setting up voice-dial ASAP.”
Still refusing to meet his eyes, Lee Han-seo kept his head down like even looking at Woo-jun would make him vomit. Meanwhile, Woo-jun was pacing in place, panicking—until a lightbulb went off in his head. Suddenly, he grabbed Han-seo’s cuffed wrist with a spark of hope.
“…What are you doing? I thought you said you didn’t have the key.”
“You said it was urgent. Let’s just cut it.”
“Cut what? My damn wrist? Your rotten personality?”
“Babe, seriously—how can you say terrifying things like that with a straight face?”
Still riding the momentum of hacking through monsters, Park Woo-jun compressed the air into an invisible blade. With a sharp clang, the chain dangling from Han-seo’s wrist snapped cleanly and dropped to the floor. Then, without warning, he scooped Han-seo up and rushed straight to the bathroom.
“See? I did good, right? Problem solved. Now go pee, baby.”
“You fucking psycho. Are you not leaving or what?!”
The real issue wasn’t that he brought Han-seo to the toilet—it was that he stood right behind him, bold as ever, and pulled down both his pajama pants and underwear in one go. Han-seo genuinely wanted to drop dead on the spot.
“I can handle it, okay? Just get out. Please.”
“B-but the cuffs are heavy, right? You probably can’t lift your wrist properly. It’s gotta be hard with just your left hand…”
Sure, in their apartment, this semi-bondage setup passed as a kinky game. But originally, this was actual Esper containment gear—meant to restrain those who lost control of their powers.
The chain was just marginally more durable, but the real containment mechanism was in the heavy-duty cuffs on his wrist. Cutting through that would’ve taken way more time and precise control. So Woo-jun had gone for the chain first and carried him in.
All of this, in Woo-jun’s mind, came from a place of pure love—utterly devoted, unwavering affection. It stung just a little to realize that deep love was being wildly misinterpreted as some kind of twisted perversion… but he was used to that by now.
“Oh my God. I’m seriously gonna lose it…”
“Babe… Why are you swearing so much these days?”
“If you wanna live, just shut the hell up.”
Woo-jun bit down on his lip, trying to smother his laughter—but being this close, it was pretty much useless. All he did was help lift the water-filled ‘pillar’ that Han-seo’s lowered right hand couldn’t manage anymore. It was warm. Soft. Squishy. Felt surprisingly nice in the hand.
Unaware of the absurd, blissed-out thoughts clouding Woo-jun’s mind, Han-seo clung to the last fragments of his pride as a functioning member of society. Even in the depths of this humiliating disaster, he clenched his jaw and endured. His toes curled in mortification.
“I hate you. I seriously, honestly hate you. You’re the fucking worst.”
“Mhm. That’s okay. I still like you a lot.”
Groaning, Han-seo tilted his head back in pure agony, while Woo-jun shamelessly murmured sweet nothings and even planted kiss after kiss on his crown. If this bastard weren’t an Esper, I’d have punched his lights out by now. Seething with frustration, Han-seo gnawed mercilessly on his poor bottom lip.
