“…….”
Ji Se-min awkwardly opened the window of the hospital room. A cool breeze slipped in through the gap that barely opened halfway due to safety regulations.
Se-min, still flushed with embarrassment, and Cha-hyeon, who hadn’t yet come down from the high, sat in a haze of tension so thick it was obvious what had just happened between them. Even a stranger walking in would’ve known instantly.
“…Want something to drink, or… ahem…”
Trying to break through the stifling awkwardness that filled the private room, Se-min cleared his throat. At some point, his voice had gone raspy. The red in his cheeks deepened.
Even as he told himself ‘Why the hell did I do that…’, he couldn’t deny the truth—it had been impossible to resist. The kiss, heady with emotion and lust, had burned hot enough that it wouldn’t have been weird if they’d started tearing each other’s clothes off. The only reason Cha-hyeon hadn’t pressed the Do Not Disturb button by the bed was because Se-min had stopped him. That was the last bit of rationality he’d managed to hold onto.
They’d barely completed the admission paperwork—and Cha-hyeon had almost hit that button. Everyone at this hospital, which catered exclusively to Awakened, knew exactly what the red button meant. And Cha-hyeon hadn’t been admitted for chronic guiding deficiency. He wasn’t even close to rampaging.
In a hospital swarming with Espers and Guides, it wouldn’t take long for the gossip to spread: “Sung Cha-hyeon and Ji Se-min started fooling around the second they checked in.”
Ever since Cha-hyeon had introduced him to the anonymous Esper/Guide community, Se-min had been acutely aware of how things looked. That awareness jolted him back to his senses—just in time to avoid turning into one of those shameless couples who acted like the hospital was a love motel.
Well… not completely. He had still ended up giving in to Cha-hyeon’s Plan B: “The bathroom door’s closed anyway, so no one’ll know.”
Now, replaying their little handsy escapade behind the closed bathroom door, Se-min interlaced his fingers for no reason at all. Even with a clear head, it was hard to shake the realization that—either way—they’d acted like total perverts.
He rubbed his palm absently with his thumb, then cleared his throat again and looked out the window. Still… how could anyone have resisted in that moment? A faint, lingering heat stirred between his thighs as if to remind him of the choice he’d made—to give in.
“Should I go get something to drink?”
This time, his voice came out more evenly. But the moment was immediately broken by a sulky grumble.
“I wanna go home.”
Se-min had always had a huge soft spot for Cha-hyeon—especially when it came to his Hyung. And now that their misunderstanding was resolved and feelings had deepened, that rose-colored lens had only gotten thicker. So when Cha-hyeon whined, it just sounded to him like: “If we’re stuck in the hospital, we have to behave. I don’t wanna.”
So cute.
No one else would’ve found it cute, but Se-min couldn’t help himself. Clearing his throat again, he replied in a deliberately calm tone.
“We agreed you’d do a full check-up while you’re in for observation, remember? You said you’d listen to me.”
Cha-hyeon’s lower lip stuck out just a little. Again, it was something only Se-min found adorable. He scooted closer, as if to comfort him.
This time, he sat on the bed instead of the folding chair. The moment Se-min settled beside him, Cha-hyeon instinctively reached out, draping an arm over his shoulder and resting his head against Se-min’s chest, like he was trying to hide there. He let out a long sigh.
His body still radiated warmth, flushed from the lingering rush of arousal. The man who always seemed so perfect and untouchable now looked like he’d dropped his armor—soft, vulnerable, tired.
Se-min lifted his hand and gently patted the wrist wrapped around him. Seeing Cha-hyeon like this, worn down and emotionally drained, a strange fatigue settled over Se-min too.
And it made sense. This had been their first real emotional conflict. Sure, they’d fought before. Like when Cha-hyeon had seen his status window activate outside the dungeon and disappeared without a word to attack a Gate—Se-min had been livid, practically dizzy with anger. And when the amnesiac Cha-hyeon had casually suggested sex guiding, Se-min had snapped and insisted he could do it, just to spite him.
But this? This kind of hurt was new. And if they hadn’t cleared up the misunderstanding, Se-min really might’ve started doubting their love. What he’d thought was sweet and solid had crumbled like a sandcastle against the tide—until they’d managed to confirm their feelings again.
And then there was… Just thinking about what they’d done in the locked bathroom made Se-min’s jaw clench tight, a walnut-shaped knot forming at his chin. As if the emotional rollercoaster hadn’t drained him enough, today had been a whirlwind from the start.
As exhausted as he was, Cha-hyeon had to be even more wiped out. He’d finally let go of the long-hidden fears he’d carried all alone. The hand that had been gently patting his wrist began to rub slowly, comfortingly. Se-min rolled the words around his tongue, then cautiously began to speak.
“Hey, Hyung. When you got your second Unclaimed Reward today…”
He felt Cha-hyeon’s arm stiffen slightly. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been aiming for—it wasn’t supposed to be a jealous thing. Se-min met his gaze, hovering like a crocodile just under the water, only his eyes showing.
“Future Cha-hyeon came.”
“…What the hell are you talking about?”
The irritation in his voice wasn’t even disguised. He sounded pissed. Ever since admitting how much he resented the version of himself with intact memories—how he viewed that man as someone else entirely—Cha-hyeon had stopped pretending to hide it.
“I mean, the Cha-hyeon who showed up this time… he’d never lost his memories. Not even once. I think he was in his forties? It was kind of wild.”
Se-min thought he heard a muttered “Old as fuck” under Cha-hyeon’s breath, but he wasn’t sure. He lightly tapped Cha-hyeon’s arm with his fingers and continued.
“But… he said he never dated me.”
Cha-hyeon, who had been resting his head on Se-min’s shoulder, slowly lifted his gaze. Se-min, who had been playing with the solid arm beneath the hospital gown, met his eyes.
“I figured that might be the case, but it still hit hard. Like, if you’d never lost your memories, we wouldn’t have ended up together.”
“Fucking idiot.”
The sneer in Cha-hyeon’s voice dripped with contempt. Se-min let out a short laugh but couldn’t help adding:
“Don’t call him that.”
Cha-hyeon clamped his mouth shut, still visibly annoyed. Wow, he’s really listening for once, Se-min thought briefly, then went on.
“The reason I’m telling you this is… even though he was from the future, and even though he was the ‘original’ version of you—one who never lost his memories—I still just kept thinking about you. I missed my Cha-hyeon.”
The last words came out softer than he intended. Cha-hyeon’s expression softened. Se-min, feeling his heart flutter, avoided his gaze.
“Even when you didn’t remember me, you were still you. So my feelings didn’t change. But thinking of that version of you as my boyfriend… I don’t know. It just didn’t sit right. It felt off. I know it doesn’t make sense.”
His thoughts came out in fragments, not fully sorted. His face burned as he peeked at Cha-hyeon, who was staring right at him.
“I still don’t really understand what I’m feeling. And sure, like you said, part of why I love you probably has to do with the memories we made—the ones you forgot. But still, the person I want to marry… is you. Just you. I love you for who you are. So… ah!”
He didn’t get to finish. Cha-hyeon suddenly yanked him forward, and before Se-min knew it, his face was buried in Cha-hyeon’s chest. His cheeks tingled from the impact.
“So basically, I’m your favorite.”
Cha-hyeon announced it with open, radiant joy. Se-min blinked up at him, startled. His smile was huge—almost unsettling.
“You want to choose me. Because you love me.”
…Is that what I meant?
Se-min had just wanted to reassure him—that he loved this Cha-hyeon, not someone else. That he wasn’t some substitute. …But maybe that really was the point.
“Yeah. That’s right. I love you.”
In the end, Se-min gave the exact answer Cha-hyeon wanted to hear. Cha-hyeon beamed like the sun. His unblinking eyes shimmered, his grin bright and almost a little frightening—but Se-min smiled too, deciding to ride the moment and add a request.
“So while we’re at the hospital, please just get a proper checkup, okay? The future version of you looked a little sick. There might be something serious going on that hasn’t been found yet, so… get everything looked at.”
For a moment, Se-min wondered if Cha-hyeon had even heard him. He looked way too happy.
And sure enough, Cha-hyeon leaned in and began kissing Se-min’s forehead. But that wasn’t enough—he kissed his temples, his eyelids, his eyebrows, his hair. Everywhere his lips could reach, he left soft, fluttering kisses.
Eyes wide, Se-min finally started squirming. Being held tight while Cha-hyeon planted kisses on every sensitive part of his face was just too much.
“Stop—wait! That tickles! Ahhh!”
Cha-hyeon finally released him after quite a while. Se-min gasped for breath. It felt like this was the first time since Cha-hyeon had lost his memories that he’d seen him this carefree.
“Mm. I’ll do what you said, Se-min.”
Cha-hyeon answered sweetly, still smiling like he was floating. The way he looked reminded Se-min of the day of the proposal—when he’d caught him completely off guard and left him speechless.
“…Ahem. Yeah. Good. The chest pains too—the doctor said it was nothing, but just in case it’s something serious, let’s get that checked too.”
He tried to sound calm and mature, but he was clearly floundering for words. Cha-hyeon chuckled softly and muttered:
“How do you treat chest pain when it’s just Sung Cha-hyeon’s guilty conscience acting up…”
“…Huh? What’d you say?”
Cha-hyeon just smiled, as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
