After pretending to know nothing and finishing breakfast, he went on his usual morning walk. Then, he called the government official in charge of him. Offering a brief apology about what had happened yesterday, he explained that they had misunderstood the nature of his relationship with the S-Ranks. That explanation triggered a barrage of questions, as if they were intent on uncovering the truth.
But he had already decided to accept his current lifestyle. He had not even the slightest desire to switch affiliations, so his response was firm. He consistently replied that the S-Ranks simply cared deeply for him. Eventually, the other party apologized for overstepping their bounds.
Apparently, they now believed his relationship with the S-Ranks was far closer than it appeared.
—I’m sorry if we misunderstood and made you uncomfortable.
“I can understand why you might’ve thought that way.”
He had heard that Jang Hee-gang had been the first to issue a warning. It wasn’t hard to imagine how forcefully he must have threatened them. Knowing the look in Jang Hee-gang’s eyes and the air around him when his violent tendencies surfaced, Cha Eun-soo shook his head.
“If I had known earlier, I would’ve apologized sooner… I’m sorry again.”
—No, we’re the ones at fault for misinterpreting the concerns of the Association leaders over a valued asset. This may sound out of line, but it genuinely came off like Espers with abnormal obsessions toward their Guide. That’s why we jumped to negative assumptions and became overly cautious.
Shit—what the hell.
He nearly bit his own tongue.
Was this… a trap? A baited question?
“Ah, right. Like you said… everyone’s just really worried about me.”
—And understandably so.
Cha Eun-soo isn’t just anyone. Even we wish we could treat you better—it’s honestly a shame we haven’t. We’re always grateful for your willingness and dedication, and so on and so forth…
What followed was a string of compliments, all praising him.
This guy… He always gave off a sensitive vibe and usually spoke in a calm tone, yet he was surprisingly expressive and had no issue saying such embarrassingly flattering things. It might be part of the job, but still, it was impressive. And besides, it wasn’t like Cha Eun-soo was working for free.
—Well then, I’ll be in touch again soon.
The call ended.
He looked down at his phone screen as it went dark. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t entirely believe him. Even if they accepted his words on the surface, he suspected they’d now try to separate him from the Association through different means.
If their concern had been genuine, he’d be thankful. But if they were scheming to cut ties, then that would simply be unfortunate. Jang Hee-gang had uncharacteristically respected his wishes, and during their first meeting and even yesterday, had restrained himself to verbal threats. But if provoked again, he might not stop at words next time—he might really turn things upside down, physically.
And it wasn’t just him. The S-Ranks, regardless of how good or kind they were individually, could easily bend their moral compass when it came to matters involving him. Whether it was his handler or that handler’s superior giving the orders—he hoped they valued their lives.
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door.
He had been sitting by the window, skimming through some intriguing news stories that Blue had pulled up.
“Yes.”
At that short response, the door opened, and his older brother walked in slowly. Expecting it to be Shim Tae-seong, Eun-soo looked up—and flinched.
“Hyung?”
Blinking, he glanced back and forth between the bright daylight pouring in from the window and his brother.
“How are you home at this hour…?”
His expression showed genuine surprise, as though he hadn’t even realized his brother was in the house. Then, recalling that Joo Cheong-gyeong had come home early the day before, his brows drew together.
“Did you come back from a mission?”
Even if that were the case, it was far too soon. No national emergency alert had been issued, which would’ve happened if a monster had appeared. Rising from his seat with a puzzled look, Eun-soo studied his brother’s face.
He was still standing by the doorway, simply watching him with a complicated expression. His lips remained firmly shut, and he said nothing. Sensing something was off, Eun-soo approached him with a hint of concern.
“What’s wrong—”
A firm arm pulled him in. His brother bent down—tall frame folding over—and wrapped his arms tightly around Eun-soo’s waist, almost clinging to him. Burying his face in Eun-soo’s shoulder, he murmured belatedly,
“Eun-soo.”
“…Mm. What is it?”
Though startled, Eun-soo gently patted his broad back, just as he had done once before.
Even if the scars that remained between them ran deep, and even if their relationship wasn’t quite what it used to be, they still considered each other brothers. That part hadn’t changed. So it wasn’t unnatural for him to openly show his concern when it came to his brother.
His brother raised his head. The black eyes that were usually heavy and brooding now seemed oddly desperate. It felt like he was silently pleading: No matter what happens today… please don’t hate me. As if he feared Eun-soo might finally cut ties after everything that had already piled up between them.
“…Is it something hard to say?”
Eun-soo met his gaze with a puzzled expression, unsure why his brother—who seemed perfectly stable—was acting like this.
The distance between them vanished in an instant.
“…!”
His brother’s lips pressed against his.
Startled, Eun-soo clutched tightly at his brother’s shirt.
The kiss wasn’t rough enough to be aggressive, but not soft enough to be tender, either. Somewhere in between—unsettlingly ambiguous.
Their lips sealed completely, and then a tongue slipped out, wetly and deliberately lapping at the tender flesh. It pressed, kneaded, and chewed, leaving unmistakable traces. Then, forcing his way in, his brother parted Eun-soo’s lips and pushed inside. His tongue, much larger than Eun-soo’s own, overwhelmed him, and Eun-soo’s mouth instinctively opened wider.
That thick tongue grazed along the inner lining of his cheeks as though trying to melt the soft tissue, then slowly crept upward toward the roof of his mouth. It lazily rubbed over the dips and curves there, teasing them with a maddening, ticklish sensation that made Eun-soo’s eyes flutter.
Eventually, wet, obscene sounds—chuup, tsch, slurp—filled the space as their tongues tangled together. Every drop of saliva that pooled was greedily swallowed by his brother as if he were drinking down nectar, not letting a single bit escape.
At the end of a kiss that had lasted more than a fleeting moment, his brother slowly pulled away, still chewing lightly, almost possessively, on his lower lip. Their breaths, tangled and heated, began to separate.
His brother stared at him with a gaze steeped in unmistakable eroticism.
“…Hyung.”
Eun-soo lifted his hand and gently cupped his brother’s cheek.
Whatever it was, it felt like something that required comfort, he thought—his expression quietly worried rather than probing. He made no attempt to interrogate the reason behind his brother’s silence; the only thing growing within him was concern.
Realizing that Eun-soo had no intention of rejecting him, Cha Eun-hyuk’s dark eyes began to fill—blended with joy and pain alike.
“……”
He leaned in and kissed him again, lifting him effortlessly into his arms and carrying him across the room—to that absurdly large bed where they could roll around without worrying about space.
With his arms draped loosely around his brother’s neck, Eun-soo glanced toward the door.
…Can I look forward to this?
***
Cha Eun-hyuk gently swept back the hair of his younger brother, who was now disheveled and lying beneath him on the bed, looking up at him.
No one else in the house had overheard Eun-soo’s earlier conversation with the government contact. As a detoxification ability user, Eun-soo had more than enough options—he could align with another organization or build a faction of his own. Theoretically, that was always on the table. At least, as long as the S-Ranks who had no intention of letting him go—including Cha Eun-hyuk—were still breathing.
But even so, from an outsider’s perspective, it might seem odd that Eun-soo hadn’t even attempted to leave. Someone might speculate that he was simply too exhausted to muster the will to escape, or that the pain from the repeated wounds he bore had left him helpless.
Those assumptions wouldn’t be wrong. And yet, Cha Eun-hyuk understood better than anyone the real reason behind Eun-soo’s choices—the thing that held the most weight.
Altruism.
Who else, in Eun-soo’s position, could have accepted them like this? No ordinary person could have endured it, mentally or emotionally. Eun-soo’s altruism wasn’t just innate—it was unbreakably strong. Even if they combined the raw selfishness of all four of them in this house, it still wouldn’t match his singular selflessness.
Even now, offering himself and worrying over a brother who had committed an unforgivable sin—what better proof was there?
Cha Eun-soo was too kind.
“Ah…”
Cha Eun-hyuk buried his face in that pale, spotless neck. Inhaling the soft, fragrant scent of his skin, he bared his teeth. The body beneath him twitched at the faint graze, and even that subtle reaction made the tension in his lower body swell with aching urgency. The heat that had been simmering since their lips first touched now pulsed through his entire being.
“Hhngh… ngh.”
Leaving slow, deliberate marks as he moved downward, Cha Eun-hyuk suddenly paused when fabric blocked his path. He lifted his head, then gripped Cha Eun-soo’s shirt with both hands to take it off.
Rrrrip—the cloth tore in two. His grip had been too strong, and he’d failed to control his strength.
“…Fuck.”
There was a reason his self-control had slipped.
He’d promised himself to abstain—no matter how long it took—until the day Cha Eun-soo opened his heart and willingly gave him permission. But now, all of a sudden, he was given the chance to hold him. With a sweet, irresistible justification: to preserve his lifespan.
Of course, the condition that he had to share Eun-soo with others was utterly repugnant, but still—
The toxic mix of anticipation and guilt began gnawing at his brain, magnifying his arousal. Even the simple act of moderating his strength momentarily slipped from his grasp.
And yet, Cha Eun-soo didn’t seem particularly shaken by his brother’s mistake. He casually shrugged off the tattered remnants of his shirt, baring his upper body without hesitation. Instead of recoiling, he leaned in—gently nestling himself against Cha Eun-hyuk’s chest with a quiet sense of reassurance.
As if to say: I know. I understand you wouldn’t be this desperate unless something was truly wrong.
