Cha Han-gyeom barely held back a laugh. It felt good knowing the reason someone had reacted faster than anyone else was because of him. An opportunity to stir up emotions.
‘They would’ve figured it out eventually even if I’d just taken them down and left…’
If Seo Won hadn’t shown up, his plan had been to quietly subdue all the unfamiliar intruders and slip away unnoticed. Espers couldn’t examine each other’s internal states—if they were blocked from channeling GP, all they’d see was that they were inexplicably incapacitated. Even Guides wouldn’t be able to detect anything beyond an invisible wall keeping them from syncing.
The only person who could look at that scene and immediately think of Cha Han-gyeom… was Seo Won. And since Seo Won knew exactly who had taken them down, he would do everything in his power to wrap up the situation himself. If Cha Han-gyeom drew the Esper Association’s attention, they’d drag him off—one way or another.
Whatever the reason, the Association seemed to make considerable exceptions for Seo Won. Not only had they thrown themselves into handling the aftermath of the previous terrorist attack without complaint, but they’d also accepted this sudden meeting aboard a yacht without batting an eye. There was no doubt some kind of serious backroom agreement that gave Seo Won enough sway to move the higher-ups at will.
Which meant Seo Won could likely cover everything on his own—Whether it was Cha Han-gyeom himself or the mysterious terrorists targeting him.
‘Would be nice if he caught them and found out why the hell they’re after me.’
He still had no idea why they’d tried to abduct him. Still, whether it was a murder plot or a kidnapping attempt, being targeted by someone was a useful kind of stimulus.
“There are bastards trying to take what’s yours.”
The most basic instinct driven by an Imprint was the desire to possess and monopolize the one you were Imprinted on. And when that instinct was provoked—that was when the emotional waves hit hardest.
But before that…
Han-gyeom finally parted his lips and answered Seo Won’s question.
“To buy time.”
“Time?”
“Time for you to get out.”
Seo Won’s hand, which had been shielding Han-gyeom’s eyes, gave a small twitch.
“They said they’d go alone.”
Han-gyeom’s fingers brushed the back of Seo Won’s hand, the one covering his eyes. He made a show of trembling ever so slightly—like he was frightened, fragile, pitiful.
“They said they’d kill you. You and everyone from the Association.”
In truth, it was just a distraction—a ruckus to buy enough time to escape. But he exaggerated it on purpose. That way, it hit harder.
“I don’t give a damn about the Association. But… if you die, that’s a problem for me too.”
I even played bait for you—don’t forget that.
It felt like Seo Won’s emotions were trickling down through his hand and into Han-gyeom’s chest. A ticklish current, brushing lightly against his heart.
Whatever the reason may have been, to him, it was all welcome.
Seo Won has a soft spot for those who protect him. Because everyone once wanted that child dead. Even the curse rooted in his heart.
If what had been written in that letter was true, then toying with Seo Won would be far too easy.
‘This is the perfect moment.’
Now that he’d caught the flow of Seo Won’s emotions, it was time to stir the waters with a bigger ripple.
“They were after me.”
“What…?”
Seo Won’s hand, which had been shielding Han-gyeom’s eyes, abruptly fell away. Both of his hands then gripped Han-gyeom’s shoulders, tightly enough to hurt.
“You? Why? For what reason?”
“I don’t know. But they even knew my name.”
Han-gyeom didn’t bother hiding anything. Everything he’d heard—he told Seo Won all of it. Even the part where those people had claimed they’d protect him.
Seo Won said nothing. But with his eyes still closed, Han-gyeom could sense the shift, perhaps because his nerves had sharpened. The air Seo Won gave off now was thick with murderous intent.
“I almost got taken from you, you know.”
Han-gyeom gave a feeble smile. But behind that smile lurked the twisted grin of Cha Han-gyeom—the devilish smile of a mischief-maker.
Now it was time for the Imprint etched into Seo Won’s heart to do its job.
“Director Seo!”
A familiar voice rang out. Lim Du-hyuk, who shouted first, was quickly followed by the sound of several others storming up onto the deck. Some of them broke off, running toward Jung Ah-young, who had collapsed nearby.
“Are you all right? Everyone was trapped in some strange barrier or got brainwashed—”
“They all ran. Just handle the situation from there.”
“Ah, yes. Understood.”
“Until we reach the dock, don’t let anyone near my cabin.”
After issuing orders to Du-hyuk, Seo Won scooped Han-gyeom up into his arms without hesitation and turned on his heel. Du-hyuk’s conflicted gaze was palpable, but Seo Won didn’t spare him even a glance as he strode toward the cabin.
Han-gyeom didn’t say a word about being put down. He stayed nestled quietly in Seo Won’s arms. He couldn’t see well enough to walk on his own anyway, and he’d overused his GP while completely neutralizing the intruders earlier.
Once inside the cabin, Seo Won sat Han-gyeom down on the bed and kissed him without a word of warning.
“Mmph, mgh—!”
Han-gyeom, eyes still closed, was startled by the sudden press of lips, but obediently parted his mouth. Seo Won’s tongue slipped past his teeth, hungrily sweeping through his mouth with urgency.
As he accepted the kiss, Han-gyeom naturally began to draw up his GP. The tingling sensation of guiding energy passed between their lips and gently brushed through Seo Won’s mind, right at arm’s reach. Then, it began to circulate quickly, coursing down into his body.
The Black Vein that coursed through Seo Won’s body was always like a starving wolf. It tore into the gentle red aura that approached it, savagely biting and gnawing at it, and then, catching hold of its teasing tail end, it pulled—threading it out like unraveling a strand of silk.
The red energy Han-gyeom released never resisted the Black Vein’s demands. It followed obediently, allowing itself to be devoured again and again.
“Haa… mmph….”
Even without wearing a guiding control device, it felt like his GP was being forcibly drawn out. Han-gyeom gently stroked and soothed the tip of the Black Vein that welcomed him. Each time he did, Seo Won’s breath grew hotter, and with every deepening kiss, their chests—pressed together—pounded wildly in sync.
Seo Won, who had fallen into the rhythm of guiding through the kiss, suddenly flinched as if snapping back to reality. He pulled his lips away and stared intently at Han-gyeom.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Why?”
Feigning innocence, Han-gyeom rubbed their lips together again. His breath was starting to heat up, and with it, the red aura surged across once more.
“Cha Han-gyeom, I said you don’t have to.”
“If we’re not doing this, then what does any of it mean?”
At Han-gyeom’s indifferent remark, Seo Won looked tormented. Even if it was just a kiss driven by emotion, to Han-gyeom it probably felt like nothing more than a plea for guiding.
Frustrated by the swirl of emotions, Seo Won bit down hard on Han-gyeom’s lower lip. The unexpected bite made Han-gyeom let out a soft “ah,” and even that—why did it sound so erotic?
“I told you not to guide me.”
“But you used a lot of power earlier. You need to be guided.”
“That wasn’t even much.”
He’d pulled in an enormous volume of water and created a forest of ice pillars—and that wasn’t much? Yet Han-gyeom’s red energy now was barely any different from the last time he’d guided.
“If it’s not for guiding, then why kiss me at all?”
He gently pushed against Seo Won’s chest and turned his head away. That reaction hit Seo Won in all the worst ways.
To Seo Won’s eyes, Cha Han-gyeom associated all physical contact solely with “guiding.” The way he touched or caressed him—none of it felt intimate. It was just a request to be guided. Even kisses and everything beyond them seemed, in Han-gyeom’s mind, to exist purely for the sake of optimal guiding.
But Seo Won couldn’t blame him for it. Wasn’t the reason he’d kept Han-gyeom close in the first place because of guiding? It made sense that Han-gyeom would see it that way.
I don’t like this.
But lately, what once made sense had stopped feeling right. Doing what had always been “natural” now grated on him.
“Don’t guide me.”
The reason he kissed Han-gyeom wasn’t to receive guiding—it was to be honest with his own emotions and desires. Touching him, licking him—it was because the more pleasure Han-gyeom felt, the more euphoric Seo Won became in turn.
Lately, the questions that had been simmering beneath the surface were swallowed up by a surge of overwhelming emotion and need. The fragile Guide he was supposed to protect had risked his own safety to protect him instead. And now, there were people trying to take that Guide away from him—wanting to make him theirs.
That alone stirred something deep inside Seo Won, something that boiled over, as if someone had poured oil onto the spark of desperation burning within him.
“So why? I can still guide, so—mmph!”
Seo Won bit down hard on Han-gyeom’s lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. Not playfully, but deliberately—enough to leave a mark, enough to draw blood.
Han-gyeom’s lush red lips quivered and let out a soft moan.
“We’re going to have sex without guiding.”
His voice was laced with a strange kind of discontent—like it deeply bothered him that Han-gyeom still viewed all of this through the lens of guiding alone.
