3) a small, good thing
“Does it hurt?”
“……A little.”
“You can’t seem to relax today. Your muscles feel all knotted up too.”
A restrained breath escaped Oh Yeon’s lips.
His body really was stiff and tense exactly as Park Seungwon—his Guide—had said. Seungwon quietly looked down at his lover before pressing a kiss to his sweat-damp forehead. Just that light touch alone visibly softened Oh Yeon’s expression.
No matter how non-physical intelligence-type Esper Oh Yeon was, his physical condition still couldn’t be compared to an ordinary person’s. But no one could stay perfectly fine while spending twenty out of every twenty-four hours stuck at The Center, and not even having time to properly see his own Guide during the remaining four.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Park Seungwon spread more gel along Oh Yeon’s dried skin.
It had been a long time since they’d had sex.
Because of that, Yeon’s senses were far more sensitive than usual, and he lightly shook his head while furrowing his brow. Seungwon carefully watched every single reaction from his Esper—the heat rising over his beautifully built muscular body, the faint trembling from arousal.
Seeing someone strong enough to snap his neck in mere seconds willingly spread his legs and expose his most vulnerable place was always enough to leave his mouth dry with excitement.
But…
“This won’t work. Not today. If we keep going like this, it’ll be too hard on you.”
Today, his one and only lover really didn’t look to be in condition to take him. Even after thoroughly soaking him with gel, all he could barely manage was accepting a single finger. Relaxed and languid from contact with his Pair Guide, Yeon looked up at Park Seungwon with slightly reddened eyes, studying his expression.
His Guide was in a bad mood right now.
The man who usually wore a gentle crescent-eyed smile and carried the face of someone easygoing was unusually letting his true feelings show. Oh Yeon reached up, wrapped an arm around Seungwon’s neck, and pulled him down into a kiss. Only then did Park Seungwon realize he’d made Oh Yeon start watching his mood, and he clicked his tongue inwardly.
Fuck. It’s not like I could ever be angry at you.
Seungwon willingly returned the kiss, their tongues tangling deeply together. Guide Park Seungwon’s irritation was, of course, not directed at his Esper.
The person he was annoyed with was the man who had practically turned The Center into a half-emergency recovery state and forced Oh Yeon to work overtime all week.
Ji Gwan-young, that ridiculously powerful Esper!
Holding the long, firm body against him, Seungwon let out another small sigh. A questioning gaze immediately followed.
The man in his arms—blunt to the point of seeming almost too quiet, sparse with words and poor at expressing himself—was trying so hard to carefully soothe his mood. Park Seungwon quickly curved his eyes into soft crescents and spoke first.
“It’s nothing. I just hate seeing you this exhausted.”
“I’m okay. I just need some rest.”
“Haha. I know. Sleep beside me for a few hours and you’ll be completely fine again.”
Even at the playful answer, Oh Yeon didn’t so much as blink as he stared at his Guide.
Tell me honestly.
Park Seungwon was hopelessly weak against that expression. In the end, just like every other time, Seungwon surrendered first.
“Yeon-ah.”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t I just shoot Ji Gwan-young a couple times? He’d heal right away anyway.”
“No. You’d end up in military prison, and I’d end up in jail.”
The low metallic voice came out several times faster than usual. He knew perfectly well that behind that gentle-looking face, his Guide was a hot-blooded man obsessed with guns.
Seungwon hugged Yeon tightly and buried his head against him like he was whining for affection. Listening to the sound of Seungwon’s heartbeat, Oh Yeon’s eyes slowly narrowed as well.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Along with it came the steady rhythm of his breathing.
Park Seungwon’s sounds always loosened something inside Oh Yeon’s mind that had been wound tight like a drawn bowstring.
“I’ll go alone, so just visit me often in prison, sweetheart.”
“Go ahead and shoot him. I’ll visit you with a new Guide.”
“……”
His movements stopped cold for a moment.
Noticing it, Oh Yeon smiled ever so faintly. His younger lover was now looking up at him with a deeply wronged expression. Oh Yeon gently stroked through Park Seungwon’s hair. The bright light-brown strands were so fine they slipped through his fingers without the slightest resistance.
“But things have been quiet lately.”
“Ji Gwan-young?”
Oh Yeon gave a small nod and pressed a kiss to his lover’s forehead.
“……Quiet enough to make me uneasy.”
***
Opening his eyes with a groggy face, Choi Tae-hoon instantly woke up completely thanks to the unrealistically handsome face directly in his line of sight.
Actually, he’d always been the type who had a hard time getting up immediately, but lately, waking up had become absurdly easy. Because of the man tightly holding his hand as though afraid to let go.
Tae-hoon lightly squeezed their interlocked fingers before slowly pulling away. The moment he did, Gwan-young’s eyes opened immediately, as if he’d been awake the whole time.
No matter how many times he saw it, the sight felt unreal.
This moment—where the only thing reflected in those pitch-black eyes was himself—still made Choi Tae-hoon feel a little embarrassed.
Whenever he fell asleep, he was definitely alone. There had even been plenty of nights where he tossed and turned late into the night. But somehow, whenever he finally drifted off and woke up again, the Esper would already be there, tightly holding his hand—or else Tae-hoon would wake up sleeping in his arms.
……Honestly, waking up holding hands is less embarrassing.
Remembering the time he’d screamed and shoved Gwan-young away in shock after suddenly seeing him naked right in front of him, Choi Tae-hoon spoke in a slightly husky morning voice.
“Good…… hm, hm. Good morning.”
“Yeah.”
There wasn’t even the slightest trace of grogginess or roughness in Ji Gwan-young’s voice. It was the same pleasant low tone as always.
Did he really just wake up?
Choi Tae-hoon sulked inwardly a little.
Honestly, the suspicion wasn’t unreasonable. Ji Gwan-young usually woke up thirty minutes to an hour earlier than Tae-hoon did. He always opened his eyes after listening to the breathing of his Pair before he fully woke from deep sleep.
And after waking up, the Esper’s routine was very simple.
Sometimes he would quietly stare for a long while at the sleeping face with slightly parted lips like a child’s. Other times he would carefully brush aside his messy hair. Before he knew it, time would pass just from watching Tae-hoon.
“Gwan-young-ssi.”
“Mm.”
“I’m getting up now.”
“Okay.”
But moments like this—when Tae-hoon opened his eyes and looked directly at him—were what Ji Gwan-young liked best.
He knew perfectly well why Tae-hoon’s eyebrows curved awkwardly like that.
He was just pretending not to know.
A little strength slipped into Gwan-young’s hand still intertwined with his.
“……You know exactly why.”
Only after pressing a light kiss to the tips of those long, beautiful fingers did Ji Gwan-young obediently let go.
As a result, Tae-hoon immediately lowered his head, his face flushed red all the way down to his neck.
Truthfully, Choi Tae-hoon still couldn’t get used to these sweet and gentle gestures from Ji Gwan-young lately.
Ever since that day when he’d shamelessly shoved his tongue into a kiss right in front of the researchers at The Center, the man in front of him had changed somehow.
To be honest, Tae-hoon still didn’t fully understand what that moody Esper with twisted thoughts was really thinking. He could only guess that it probably wasn’t in a bad direction.
“Oh my. Didn’t you say you wouldn’t be coming in today?”
“The schedule got moved.”
“I seeeee…….”
Of course, Lee Mihyun was just as unaccustomed to this obedient version of Ji Gwan-young.
She exchanged a subtle glance with Tae-hoon while wearing an odd expression. Tae-hoon answered her with an awkward smile.
At the very least, though, he felt like he understood why Ji Gwan-young had started cooperating with The Center so well.
‘It’d be nice if you could be a little kinder to the people at The Center too, but if you don’t want to, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?’
Ever since Tae-hoon had said that, the sharp edges in Ji Gwan-young’s crooked attitude had abruptly disappeared.
Pretending to search through training programs, Lee Mihyun rolled only her eyes as she observed the Pair notorious for constant incidents and accidents.
Oh my, oh my. Seriously. What is this? This is absolutely fascinating.
Right now, she was thoroughly enjoying the strange atmosphere swirling between the two tall men.
Honestly speaking, after getting into a huge fight with Ji Gwan-young—or rather, if she admitted it coldly, after being completely cornered by him—her pride had been badly hurt. She’d been so furious that night that she sat her own Guide beside her and drank expensive liquor until she was practically drowning in it.
But what happened afterward was astonishing.
It was like he’d become a completely different person.
To put it bluntly, that damn Esper bastard had become human.
The shock she felt when Ji Gwan-young—who used to react indifferently to training, sneer at mandatory Esper education, and get irritated whenever The Center requested research cooperation—started quietly following the Center’s schedules with nothing more than a slight arch of his brows in response was enough to leave her speechless even now.
Of course, the reason for the change was obvious enough.
Ji Gwan-young, desperately clinging to Choi Tae-hoon with his neck flushed red while Tae-hoon struggled to push him away.
Lee Mihyun honestly wanted to cackle and tease him with a smug See? I told you so, brat, but she barely restrained herself.
The Guide was already flustered enough over suddenly being handed the leash to a once-untamable beast so willingly. She didn’t want to burden him any further.
Sitting beside him, Choi Tae-hoon stole a glance at his Pair, who was expressionlessly flipping through the mandatory Esper education booklet.
Even though he wore nothing more than a dark navy shirt and black slacks, the aura he carried was simply different.
Tae-hoon was grateful too that Ji Gwan-young still came to see him whenever he had even a little free time despite being busy filming dramas.
His life had become dull, going back and forth only between The Center and the official residence because they feared news leaking out that he was Ji Gwan-young’s Guide. Yet visits from the very person responsible for creating that situation still made him strangely happy.
Lately, Ji Gwan-young almost looked as though he was obeying Choi Tae-hoon.
So much so that Tae-hoon found himself repeatedly rolling words around in his mouth that he’d never dare say aloud while fully sober because they were too embarrassing.
‘Ji Gwan-young-ssi… are you okay?’
In the end, even this morning, Tae-hoon couldn’t bring himself to ask.
That was the thing.
After that day, Ji Gwan-young had genuinely become gentler—but at the same time, he’d started putting distance between them physically.
At most, Tae-hoon would wake up in his arms or holding hands with him in the morning. And when Tae-hoon was awake, Ji Gwan-young didn’t even do that much.
It bothered Tae-hoon.
It felt awkward in the same way not studying before a huge exam felt awkward—his body was comfortable, but his mind wasn’t.
It had also been quite a while since they’d had sex. Ever since Tae-hoon had collapsed from shock. It had already been almost a month.
“……Why?”
“N-no, it’s nothing!”
But asking about sleeping together first was embarrassingly difficult.
Avoiding the Esper’s gaze, Tae-hoon fidgeted with his phone. But Ji Gwan-young continued staring at his Pair silently for a while longer.
Feeling that gaze in full, Tae-hoon swallowed dryly and darted his eyes around.
Whenever the man sitting across from him looked at him like this, it felt as though every thought in his head was being read.
Ah, whatever. If he’s acting like that, it probably means things are okay. Right?
Choi Tae-hoon tried to comfort himself with the thought.
Still, Ji Gwan-young—who used to stick close to him every chance he got—had barely been able to visit the official residence at all for nearly a week after that day.
Because of drama filming.
Tae-hoon blankly stared at the face of the man on the TV screen, portrayed more beautifully than anyone else.
The tall man on the screen was definitely the same person who had woken up beside him in bed just a few days ago, yet somehow he felt unfamiliar.
Maybe it was because he’d never personally seen that gentle crescent-eyed smile or heard that sweet tone of voice that suited it so well.
“Actors really are actors for a reason…….”
