Yoon Do-jae knew this was crossing the line, forcing something he shouldn’t—but if not now, then never. Anxious thoughts have a way of making people restless and desperate.
At Yoon Do-jae’s completely unexpected words, Kang Chi-yu’s face stiffened slightly.
“Ah….”
Do-jae immediately regretted saying it, wondering if he’d just ruined everything. But it was too late to take it back.
“I’d like it if, when you’re with me, you’d only look at me.”
Chi-yu’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t thought Do-jae was the type to come at him so bluntly—no warning, no hesitation, just straight in. But since he knew Do-jae had feelings for him, Chi-yu believed it was best not to leave even the smallest opening. So, carefully but firmly, he rejected him.
“About that chance you asked for… I’m sorry, but I can’t give it to you.”
Do-jae’s expression hardened instantly.
“I… I like Tae-oh. I’ve liked him for a long time.”
“…I know. I do, but….”
“Giving you a chance would only be deceiving you, Esper Yoon Do-jae.”
“……”
“My feelings won’t change. Actually—there was a misunderstanding before. But once that cleared up, I couldn’t stop myself from falling deeper. I don’t have room to look at anyone else.”
Do-jae stared blankly at the table. He’d never thought that getting a chance would mean Chi-yu might come to love him back. It was just that this crush had been with him for so long, and now that they were finally close, he wanted at least to leave some mark in Chi-yu’s memory. Even if they never became anything, it would be enough if Chi-yu simply remembered that Yoon Do-jae had cared for him deeply, for a long time.
But the more time he spent with him, the greedier he became—wanting to be Chi-yu’s lover and working toward it. Still, he knew he could never win. He couldn’t fight against the time Chi-yu had spent with Hyun Tae-oh, the years Chi-yu had loved him, or the countless days Tae-oh had devoted himself to protecting Chi-yu from the world’s harm.
And yet, when Chi-yu cut him off so decisively, leaving not even a shred of hope, Do-jae found himself falling for him all over again. He admired clean breaks and firm decisions—Chi-yu’s resolve was exactly the kind of strength he couldn’t help but love.
So Do-jae just stared at Kang Chi-yu, who was becoming harder and harder to give up. Chi-yu, still gripping his phone that wouldn’t stop vibrating with messages, met his gaze. Since he’d just rejected him, he couldn’t bring himself to check Tae-oh’s texts in front of him.
He felt guilty toward Do-jae, but also wanted to end things properly, cleanly. Having an S-rank Esper like him confess was surprising, flattering, even thrilling—but it ended there. He had no intention of pursuing anything with Yoon Do-jae.
If anything, he just wanted to ease Hyun Tae-oh’s worries. Tae-oh had declared he’d seduce him, and every time he saw Do-jae, he’d glare and growl like a dog guarding its bone. Chi-yu couldn’t help but think maybe it was all because he hadn’t handled things with Do-jae properly.
In the end, the truth was clear: it could only ever be Tae-oh for him. When he’d sulked, thinking Tae-oh had replaced him with Min Yu-hyun—moving out, changing his number, avoiding him so openly—that had all just been his way of crying out for Tae-oh to look at him, to understand him, to acknowledge his feelings.
As his phone kept buzzing with calls, Chi-yu gripped it tightly and said to Do-jae,
“I should’ve given you a clear answer instead of brushing things off to avoid awkwardness during filming. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
“…Was it uncomfortable because I said I liked you?”
“No, not at all. I was happy. Really happy. That’s the truth.”
“…Good. If you hadn’t been even a little happy, I think that would’ve crushed me.”
“I was happy.”
“Then that’s enough. I can’t change your heart, nor can I undo the years you and Tae-oh have together. Stepping back is the right choice for me.”
“……”
“If I keep pushing, I’ll only make things harder for you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, Guide Kang Chi-yu. You have nothing to be sorry for. These are my feelings—they’re mine to carry.”
“……”
“…Still, could I ask for one selfish favor?”
“…What?”
“From now on—maybe for a long time. Maybe forever.”
“……”
“I think I’ll keep liking you, Guide Kang Chi-yu.”
Chi-yu’s eyes trembled faintly at Do-jae’s words.
“I just want you to remember that.”
“……”
“That I like you, Guide Kang Chi-yu.”
Someday, maybe far in the future, if Chi-yu’s feelings for Tae-oh faded—then, give me a chance. The thought rose to his throat, but he swallowed it back.
To say it out loud would be nothing more than selfishness, wishing for Chi-yu and Tae-oh not to work out. If he admitted it, Chi-yu would see right through his ugly heart. He might even be disappointed in him—or worse, angry.
No, he couldn’t ever let that side of himself show. After all, what kind of bastard would dare tell their crush, “I hope you break up with him soon and come to me”?
So Do-jae swallowed every word—except for one last plea.
“Just remember that I like you. That’s all I ask.”
Chi-yu fiddled with his phone, caught between not knowing what to say and not being able to say nothing at all. The phone, which had been ringing endlessly, suddenly went quiet. The silence in the room grew heavy, almost suffocating.
Chi-yu kept turning the phone in his hands, trying to decide what to say. And Do-jae waited patiently, steadfast, until Chi-yu finally spoke. The only sound in the room was their breathing, scattered and uneven.
At last, Chi-yu lifted his head, as if he’d made up his mind, and looked at Do-jae. Do-jae stared right back. How much longer would he get to meet Chi-yu’s gaze like this, to be reflected in his eyes? Even this moment felt achingly precious.
Not knowing how he felt, Chi-yu opened his mouth with difficulty.
“Esper Yoon Do-jae….”
And in that instant, something appeared beside him with a sharp shuk—. Both Chi-yu and Do-jae jolted in surprise, shoulders flinching. Their eyes flew to the sudden intruder.
It was Hyun Tae-oh. The moment he teleported next to Chi-yu, he snarled at Do-jae.
“You fucker. What the hell were you doing with Kang Chi-yu?”
“What do you think I was doing? And you—teleporting in here like that? Good thing there aren’t cameras in this room. If that got recorded… even if it got deleted, rumors would spread. You’ve already got a reputation for having a shitty temper—”
“Then why the fuck aren’t you answering me? Did you think I was joking when I said if you ignore my messages, I’ll chew your face off?”
“Hey, Hyun Tae-oh!”
Flustered, Chi-yu called out, while Do-jae, who had been frowning at Tae-oh since his sudden appearance, spoke up.
“Hyun Tae-oh. Don’t tell me—you marked Guide Kang Chi-yu?”
At that, both Tae-oh and Chi-yu turned to him.
“Last time too—you broke through Guide Kang Chi-yu’s coordinates, didn’t you?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Did you get his permission before marking him? Without consent, that’s illegal.”
“…I know.” Chi-yu quickly cut in. “I know. I know he marks me every time I guide him.”
Do-jae’s eyes widened.
“You knew? You knew he was marking you?”
It wasn’t just Do-jae who was stunned. Even Tae-oh hadn’t expected Chi-yu to stand up for him in front of Yoon Do-jae.
When Tae-oh stared at him with wide eyes, Chi-yu looked back, frowning as if to say what? what’s with that face? Tae-oh suddenly grabbed his arm. Despite the urgency, his grip was surprisingly gentle.
“Chi-yu, let’s go.”
“What? Where—”
“It’s been about thirty minutes, hasn’t it? I’m taking you.”
Before Chi-yu could even finish asking, Tae-oh left a curt notice for Do-jae, then instantly teleported them away.
Do-jae didn’t like how Tae-oh hauled Chi-yu off without even asking his opinion. But he had the sinking feeling Chi-yu would accept it anyway, so he said nothing.
And he was right. Having spent twenty years practically as brothers, Chi-yu was used to Tae-oh’s overbearing ways. To him, this kind of bulldozing was nothing more than affection.
Sure, Tae-oh was selfish and headstrong—but when it truly mattered, he always knew exactly where to draw the line. That is, except when it came to Kang Chi-yu.
“Hey, you can’t just—”
The moment they landed in Tae-oh’s room, Chi-yu started scolding him—only to have Tae-oh cut him off with a kiss. The sudden press of lips made Chi-yu’s knees buckle.
Before he realized it, he was gently laid on the bed. Seizing the instant their lips parted, Chi-yu pushed him away.
“Why are you doing this all of a sudden? We’ve got filming soon.”
“I know. Just kissing.”
“That’s not just kissing, Tae-oh! What the hell—why out of nowhere—”
“You’re the one who made it impossible to hold back.”
“What did I do to make you lose control?”
Chi-yu blinked at him in disbelief.
“You took my side. Fuck, do you know how hard that was for me to handle?”
This crazy bastard….
Chi-yu’s face twisted instantly.
“You defending me in front of Yoon Do-jae—it drove me insane with how much I liked it.”
Tae-oh leaned in again for another kiss, but Chi-yu shoved at him with arms and legs, yelling.
“Get a grip! We’ve got ten minutes before filming!”
“Then just ten minutes—”
“Nothing! Absolutely not!”
Chi-yu’s sharp tone cut him off.
In the end, Tae-oh only backed down when Chi-yu promised to give him as much Guiding as he wanted after filming ended—protecting his lips from ten more minutes of relentless assault.
