Honestly, up until then, Tae-hoon had simply thought, A few autographs aren’t a big deal.
After all, to his younger siblings who were still in their teens and early twenties, Ji Gwan-young would naturally feel more like a celebrity than an Esper first.
But that had been Choi Tae-hoon’s mistake—momentarily forgetting exactly how many siblings he had.
The Guide watched Ji Gwan-young, who was already moving his hand across the page for the twenty-fourth autograph, with growing anxiety written all over his face.
In truth, for the past few days, Tae-hoon’s siblings had quietly been having a rough time because of him, even if they hadn’t said anything directly.
Jihyun still couldn’t forget the shock she’d felt when her older brother’s face—normally impossible to see even on weekends—suddenly appeared in a post uploaded by a café she frequented. One of her classmates had shoved a phone toward her with eyes wide open, blurting out, “Jihyun, isn’t this your oppa?”
Honestly, she’d had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to react.
So she’d skipped class entirely and fled home, only to find the other four siblings rushing in too, equally panicked and pale-faced, like some weird telepathic family connection.
Remembering that moment, Choi Jihyun almost let out a laugh before her gaze suddenly paused on one of the signed papers.
Ji Gwan-young noticed the subtle change in complexion from the young woman sitting before him and tilted his head slightly first. There was nothing wrong with the autograph itself.
Jihyun finally spoke in a tiny voice.
“Umm… this message overlaps with the one before it…….”
“Is that not okay?”
Just like Choi Tae-hoon’s sibling—she really did say whatever was on her mind. Ji Gwan-young thought this while watching Jihyun dart her eyes around with a perfectly innocent face.
“They’re for my friends, so it’s juuust a little bit like that…….”
“I’ll redo it for you.”
The one growing increasingly restless while listening to that exchange was Choi Tae-hoon.
At first, Tae-hoon had still been able to laugh along while his younger sister brightly listed names saved in her phone—up to around six people.
But once the count passed ten, the smile disappeared from his face, and he began gesturing desperately at her from farther away.
By the time she crossed fifteen names, he’d even quietly called out, “Choi Jihyun!”
But Choi Jihyun, cheeks flushed as she sat across from Ji Gwan-young, had long since stopped noticing something as insignificant as her eldest brother while meticulously inspecting each autograph one by one.
Tae-hoon cautiously studied Gwan-young’s expression, worried he might be offended.
The man sitting there was someone who twisted his lips arrogantly and spat venomous remarks even at researchers from The Center, Director Kwon Dahee, or even ministers. Seeing him speak more politely to his younger sister than Tae-hoon had ever heard before felt less reassuring and more burdensome somehow.
But today, Ji Gwan-young looked unusually relaxed.
Instead of saying anything sharp, whenever his eyes met Tae-hoon’s, he’d simply smile faintly before continuing to sign again.
So he’s letting things slide today?
Tae-hoon wet his dry lips nervously with his tongue.
But life, as always, refused to go according to expectations.
The second son, Choi Woojin—the least tactful person in the entire family—finished touching and inspecting practically every object inside Tae-hoon’s residence before heading straight toward Gwan-young before Tae-hoon could stop him.
“Hehe, um, hyung-nim.”
And he said it while chewing on cherry tomatoes he’d grabbed from the refrigerator.
Walking around while eating was one of the habits Ji Gwan-young disliked quite a bit.
“……Yes?”
“Could I maybe get a few autographs too?”
You muscle-headed idiot! Tae-hoon screamed internally.
Choi Woojin, built like a mountain from years of judo training, scratched the back of his head while speaking in a way that somehow looked genuinely simple and harmless, but right now Tae-hoon couldn’t care less about how innocent his younger brother seemed.
Ji Gwan-young was already moving his arm nonstop like some autograph machine, and now this guy was saying, “Hehe, hyung-nim.”
For a moment, Tae-hoon genuinely felt chills down his spine.
The strange expression crossing his Pair’s face immediately caught his eye too.
The truth was, Ji Gwan-young realized a beat late—uncharacteristically late—that the word hyung-nim Choi Woojin used was referring to him. In the first place, he’d almost never had reason to hear anyone call him “hyung” in his life. His ties with family had been severed long ago, and by the time he’d fully entered the entertainment industry, he’d already effectively dropped out of university.
Tae-hoon decided this had gone too far and quickly tried to stand up to stop his siblings.
But someone moved faster.
Third son Choi Seungyu, who’d been staring suspiciously at his eldest brother for a while now.
Swallowing down a curse quietly enough that his oldest brother—who hated rough language—couldn’t hear it, Seungyu suddenly wrapped an arm around Tae-hoon’s neck from behind and pulled him back down. Thanks to that, the Guide had no choice but to awkwardly plop back onto the sofa.
“Choi Seungyu?”
At Tae-hoon’s confused voice, everyone’s attention turned toward the two brothers. But Seungyu genuinely couldn’t bring himself to move away from his eldest brother right now. Especially with those clueless younger siblings nearby.
“H-ha, haha. I want one or two autographs too~”
“What’s gotten into you? You’re being creepy.”
Tae-hoon’s voice sounded genuinely baffled. But the one even more dumbfounded right now was Seungyu himself. Staring at his confused brother, Seungyu mouthed silently: Hyung! Neck, neck, NECK!
“What?”
Why was his usually sharp older brother suddenly this oblivious at times like this?
Tae-hoon calmly repeated Seungyu’s words out loud, nearly making the back of Seungyu’s neck stiffen in panic.
And then—a faint smile curled at the edge of Ji Gwan-young’s lips while he continued moving his hand over the autograph paper in the distance.
Ji Gwan-young had understood Seungyu’s silent warning perfectly—the one his own Guide failed to notice. A beat late, Seungyu realized that too and unconsciously let out a quiet: “Huh.”
Whoa. Did that guy just smile? Holy shit.
To Choi Seungyu, his eldest brother Choi Tae-hoon—four years older than him—had always been closer than even their parents growing up.
Tae-hoon handled difficult things, studying, everything effortlessly, and even after Seungyu got older, he’d always continued looking after him like a little brother.
The reason Choi Seungyu had somehow managed to get into a decent university and even finish military service smoothly after nearly going off-track several times during his school years was all because of his eldest brother.
Tae-hoon had always walked ahead simply because he was the eldest son.
And now that same idol-like brother had this complete mess all over his neck while that bastard sat there smiling so smoothly without a care in the world.
It was unbelievably irritating.
Honestly, among all six siblings, Choi Seungyu—the most open-minded about sex and relationships by far—couldn’t help imagining a lot from such blatant possessiveness.
Yeah. He’d kept thinking surely not, surely not.
Damn, he’d really hoped surely not, but his brother really was with that bastard……..!
“Choi Seungyu?”
“Hyung, stay here. Stay with me. Stay with me, okay?!”
“Why are you acting all weird all of a sudden?”
Even while saying that, Tae-hoon relaxed his shoulders. That was just what being the eldest child in a huge family was like.
Seungyu stayed glued tightly to his brother in case the younger siblings accidentally noticed the marks on Tae-hoon’s neck, but he never forgot to glare toward the man sitting there with a dazzling smile while moving his pen.
Ji Gwan-young accepted the adorable territorial hostility willingly.
Choi Tae-hoon’s siblings really all had completely different personalities.
The one most similar to Tae-hoon was probably the youngest, Jungmin, who merely sat there staring at Ji Gwan-young with wide eyes. His face practically screamed Whoa! while he quietly sparkled with excitement without saying a single bothersome word—exactly like Tae-hoon.
Pretending not to notice his Guide secretly glancing over at him, suffering internally before eventually starting to sigh repeatedly under his breath, Ji Gwan-young let out a low chuckle.
Choi Tae-hoon had been right. A benefactor really had come.
There were no guests Ji Gwan-young should welcome more dearly than these people.
And so, only after generously giving more than enough autographs to all five siblings did Ji Gwan-young finally put the pen down.
As for Tae-hoon, while he was happy and glad to see his siblings after so long, he was also deeply worried.
No—more accurately, he was afraid of the consequences afterward.
In the end, after repeatedly promising he’d visit them soon, Choi Tae-hoon sent his siblings home earlier than originally planned.
Naturally, he didn’t forget to tack on his usual nagging before they left.
The siblings had all been pouting and complaining about why he was already sending them away, but the moment Tae-hoon started saying:
“Choi Woojin, Choi Seungyu, Choi Jihyun. Are you even studying for midterms? I’m checking your grades. Mina and Jungmin, you’re still going to academy classes properly without skipping, right? And if you guys aren’t dividing up the housework properly just because I’m not there—”
—they immediately sprang to their feet.
Standing behind his Guide like some decorative folding screen, Ji Gwan-young awkwardly waved while observing the bizarre scene.
The spacious residence that had been crammed full of unexpected visitors emptied out in an instant.
Without realizing it, Gwan-young found himself thinking something before laughing hollowly at himself.
After all, it didn’t feel like something he should be thinking while living alone in a mansion dozens of times larger than this place. But the one left feeling even emptier than Gwan-young was Tae-hoon.
He’d hurriedly sent them away in case something happened, but now that his siblings—whom he hadn’t seen in ages—had disappeared from sight again, his heart felt restless.
Ji Gwan-young glanced at Tae-hoon’s oddly conflicted expression before asking quietly,
“Tired?”
“Excuse me?”
“You sent them away pretty quickly. Thought maybe you were exhausted.”
Startled by the unexpected question, Tae-hoon hurriedly began making excuses. After all, he was the one who’d caused trouble for Ji Gwan-young today.
“They must’ve really bothered you today. I’m sorry. The kids watch your dramas all the time too, Ji Gwan-young-ssi, so they got a little overexcited…….”
“No, it was fine.”
“I’ll make sure to warn them beforehand next time so they don’t act like that. You signed so many autographs. I’m really sorry.”
Ji Gwan-young stared silently at Choi Tae-hoon, who even bowed his head apologetically toward him.
The truth was, he felt the complete opposite of what Tae-hoon imagined.
No matter how much of a Ji Gwan-young he was, hearing people talk about killing his Guide and all sorts of things naturally sharpened his nerves. Even while trying to focus on scripts, he’d suddenly remember the image of that unreadable Esper loosely holding onto Tae-hoon, limp and vulnerable, and irritation would flare up instantly.
But today, meeting those little brats who resembled Choi Tae-hoon here and there had actually relaxed him considerably.
It hadn’t been irritating at all.
If anything, imagining the things The Center would soon summon him to discuss was far more exhausting. Even Ji Gwan-young himself found that somewhat surprising.
Normally, he would’ve hated spending time with strangers, but somehow it hadn’t been bad at all. He vaguely suspected it was because they were Choi Tae-hoon’s family.
“Next time, you should let me earn a few more points.”
“……What?”
“I think one of your siblings really hates me.”
“My sibling? Who? No, why—why?”
Ji Gwan-young lowered his head toward the deep hollow near Tae-hoon’s collarbone.
At the ticklish kiss, Tae-hoon unconsciously swallowed dryly.
Doing this immediately after his siblings had just been here felt strangely embarrassing somehow. But he couldn’t push him away.
There was something important he needed to hear first. Besides—
Earn points?
Good lord, hearing words that polite come out of Ji Gwan-young’s mouth felt absurd.
Tae-hoon’s shoulders twitched as Gwan-young lightly sank his teeth into the back of his neck before gently sucking at the skin.
“It’s probably because of this.”
Following the slightly playful glance, Tae-hoon’s eyes slowly drifted downward too. And before long, he finally discovered the mottled red marks covering his neck.
There was no excusing this as scratching himself or mosquito bites. No matter who saw it, it was obviously that.
Oh my god……..
At last, the mystery of why Choi Seungyu had clung to his neck refusing to let go was solved. Watching someone’s face naturally turn as red as physically possible, Ji Gwan-young let out a small laugh.
“Don’t apologize like that anymore. Whatever it is.”
“But still…….”
That sounded exactly like something a man who never lowered his head to anyone would say. Tae-hoon tried to protest against that arrogant command. But Gwan-young’s next words crushed the attempt instantly.
“Did you really think I’d find you bothersome?”
Without realizing it, Tae-hoon clenched his fists tightly.
