“What about Ji Gwan-young?”
“Ji Gwan-young’s boyfriend.”
Choi Tae-hoon had gained a new nickname on top of “Guide Ji Gwan-young.” Ji Gwan-young’s boyfriend. Kim Kwonseok snickered as he looked at the Guide’s suddenly bizarre expression.
Even after hearing the laughter, Tae-hoon kept wearing a face that seemed to say something about this feels wrong. Only after Kwonseok heartily slapped him on the shoulder in a clumsy attempt at comfort did he finally let out a sigh-laced laugh.
“Aw, come on. You’re dating the hottest celebrity around these days. You hit the jackpot. On top of that, you’re a Pair, and apparently your Names are connected too?”
“…Well.”
“Seriously, it’s a relief you met even now. If your luck had sucked, you might’ve gone your whole lives without ever meeting.”
Tae-hoon awkwardly scratched his chin, secretly worrying whether his face had turned red.
Kim Kwonseok was right.
If they hadn’t happened to meet at the fan signing event, the Pair might really have gone through life never knowing each other existed. Their Name connection, too, would probably have remained nothing more than the incomplete one-sided sharing that only Ji Gwan-young possessed.
Of course, the biggest problem of all was Ji Gwan-young himself.
The media claimed he had only recently awakened as an Esper, but in truth, he had gone over ten years without a paired Guide. Even if something terrible had happened from one wrong slip-up, it wouldn’t have been surprising.
Reading the embarrassment reflected on Tae-hoon’s neat face as he sat beside him, Kim Kwonseok grinned broadly and naturally continued the conversation.
“Ah, I want to see Ji Gwan-young at least once too. Why’s he so hard to see? What time does he usually come to The Center?”
“He comes whenever he has time in his schedule, so there’s no fixed hour.”
“Just get me one autograph. My sweetheart’s a huge Ji Gwan-young fan. She never shuts up about him.”
“Yes.”
The way Tae-hoon nodded in agreement made it painfully obvious he wasn’t used to conversations like this.
Honestly, Kim Kwonseok found it pretty surprising.
The Guide of a top star known by literally everyone in South Korea—and on top of that, an absurd Pair whose Names were even connected. He’d imagined someone at least a little arrogant.
A few months ago, Tae-hoon hadn’t shown his face even once during the Guides’ collective training sessions, and the way he moved around cautiously enough to make people wonder whether he even came to The Center at all had only reinforced that prejudice.
But now that he’d met him, it wasn’t that the man carried himself stiffly out of pride—he was simply overly polite and incredibly ordinary.
Kim Kwonseok smiled easily at the Guide, who was asking his questions in a low voice.
“Uh, by any chance, is your partner an Esper?”
“Yep. The prettiest girl in the world, my baby.”
Displayed proudly on his phone wallpaper was a woman with short hair smiling brightly.
“Pretty, right? She’s suuuper pretty, right?”
“Yes. She’s incredibly beautiful.”
“I’m only showing you because you’re dating Ji Gwan-young. Normally I’d be too scared someone might try to steal her from me to introduce her to anybody.”
The teasing sentence, slipping his lover’s name into the conversation the moment he let his guard down, was full of mischief.
It certainly made Tae-hoon’s face burn red, but it was also enough to loosen the tension that had kept him rigid all morning.
The only reason Tae-hoon had managed to endure the training sessions all the way to lunchtime in a much lighter mood—instead of spending the whole day worrying about how to secretly slip away—was thanks to Kim Kwonseok.
“What about lunch? The food here’s good.”
“I’m going to rest for a bit. I don’t really have an appetite.”
“Haha. Fair enough. I’ll grab you a coffee or something when I come back up.”
Tae-hoon gave an awkward little wave toward Kim Kwonseok as he left in a noisy crowd with the others.
At last, after several hours, the Guide was finally alone.
The moment the large auditorium emptied out completely, Tae-hoon nearly collapsed back into his chair. The fact that he alone occupied this huge space came as a relief.
For some reason, his body felt stiff and sore, so he stretched hard. Cracks rang loudly from his rigid neck and waist.
Ji Gwan-young’s boyfriend.
The nickname Kim Kwonseok had called him earlier suddenly resurfaced in his mind. A deflated laugh slipped unconsciously from his lips. He found himself wondering what his Pair would say if he heard it.
Knowing Ji Gwan-young’s personality, he’d probably just laugh like it was ridiculous.
Tae-hoon quietly chuckled to himself, eyes closed as he stretched the arm that had remained unmoving for hours.
And then it happened. A man’s voice—one that absolutely should not have been heard here.
“What’s so funny?”
Tae-hoon jerked upright so fast it was as if ice water had been dumped over him.
He couldn’t believe the person standing before his eyes. No—he refused to believe it.
“…Am I dreaming?”
“Choi Tae-hoon, did you sleep through your training?”
It was Ji Gwan-young.
And not just Ji Gwan-young, but top star Ji Gwan-young, dressed as though he’d just stepped straight out of a primetime drama.
Accompanied by the crisp sound of dress shoes, the man strode boldly across the center of the auditorium. It looked almost as though he were the main character meant to stand on this stage today.
Tae-hoon had seen the man countless times over the past few months, but he could confidently say this was the most perfect he had ever looked.
Without realizing it, Tae-hoon pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead.
***
Whenever Ji Gwan-young took one step forward, Choi Tae-hoon rushed three steps ahead of him.
“Ji Gwan-young-ssi. Please, seriously, please leave immediately. Disappear completely like you were never here in the first place.”
“Why should I? Save the begging for when we’re in bed.”
Standing atop the auditorium stage while casually inspecting the complicated machinery, the Esper spoke in a perfectly calm voice.
For a moment, Tae-hoon lost his words thanks to the way the man had naturally slid into obscene remarks as smoothly as flowing water. But he quickly recovered and continued alternating between pleading and threatening.
“If you don’t leave, I seriously won’t see you again!”
“Don’t say things you can’t actually do. Should you really be throwing around such a powerful card so carelessly?”
“…Ugh, please. Seriously!”
After checking the clock, Tae-hoon’s anxiety skyrocketed.
Lunch break was almost over.
Which meant that before long, Guides would come flooding back into this place. Those people had already spent the entire morning staring at him with curious eyes. If the center of all that attention—Ji Gwan-young himself—was added to the mix, then today would truly be ruined beyond repair.
Ji Gwan-young pressed a few buttons, and the stage lit up brightly like a theater set.
The sight only made Tae-hoon more frantic, and a sharper edge slipped into his voice.
“No, seriously, why didn’t you just stay at the residence? Why come all the way here?”
That was the exact moment Ji Gwan-young’s brows lifted sharply.
Tilting his head slightly, he stared directly at his Pair. His jet-black hair, untouched by any other shade, shimmered under the light.
Tae-hoon unconsciously swallowed a dry breath as the protagonist straight out of a drama leaned so close his face was right there.
Actor Ji Gwan-young, beloved by the entire nation. That man was his Esper—and his lover.
It was such an oddly fresh realization.
“Choi Tae-hoon. Don’t tell me I’m an unwelcome guest?”
“…Haa, no, that’s not—”
“Pretty surprising behavior toward your ‘lover’ who came to see you after squeezing in time between overnight shoots.”
Lover.
The word Ji Gwan-young deliberately chose was enough to snap Tae-hoon’s mouth shut mid-complaint.
Seeing the flush instantly spread all the way to the tips of the Guide’s ears, Gwan-young smiled with crescent-shaped eyes.
He liked the way Tae-hoon grew shy every time he reminded him of the new label they now shared.
Dating. Lover.
Ji Gwan-young had never once in his life placed any importance on those sweet words, yet it fascinated him that they could make Choi Tae-hoon wear expressions like this.
When he pulled the trembling man in and kissed him, he felt the tense shoulders twitch violently.
On the bed, the man spread himself open and begged like some filthy young master who’d finally learned how to take another man properly—yet with tiny acts of affection like this, he became so embarrassed the bones on the backs of his hands turned white from tension.
Ji Gwan-young leisurely melted his lover apart.
He pushed his tongue past slightly parted lips, tracing over the neat rows of teeth, and every time he brushed against the soft flesh beneath them, Tae-hoon’s body gradually lost strength in an adorably helpless way.
And when he gently scraped against the roof of his mouth, the innocent reactions he got were so pure that anyone watching would think the man had never kissed anyone before.
“…Haa, mm…”
The small, muffled moans spilling out as the kiss deepened sounded obscenely sweet.
Ji Gwan-young almost laughed.
Just moments ago, the man had been angrily demanding he leave, yet now he was already melting pliantly into his arms. At this point, it was impossible to tell who the real problem was.
Large, careful hands slowly began roaming over his lover’s waist.
The firm muscles filling out the man’s body now tempted him more than anything else in the world.
Imagining the markings that would continue all the way upward to those shoulders was pleasant too. The Name etched there greedily, as though proclaiming ownership, belonged to him.
That fact was deeply satisfying.
When their lips finally parted for a moment, a tightly restrained breath escaped from Tae-hoon’s flushed face.
Lately, Ji Gwan-young had found himself seriously questioning the existence of Guides.
People always said Guides were the ones who kept Espers sane, yet whenever he looked at his lover, it somehow felt like the exact opposite was happening.
There was simply no way not to lose himself watching those composed eyes grow wet.
The Pair had slowly begun heating up again. But just like during their dramatic declaration of being lovers, there was one thing they had both forgotten.
Namely—the issue of where they currently were.
The moment Ji Gwan-young sensed people approaching in the distance, he immediately lifted his head.
A few beats later, Tae-hoon noticed too—and all the blood drained from his face instantly.
Gwan-young, who had once even considered holding a press conference, wore an expression that practically said so what?
But Tae-hoon was completely different.
Of all places, this chaotic Pair happened to be standing right on the brightly lit stage for everyone to see.
Shoving his Esper away like a bullet and wiping furiously at his lips, Tae-hoon fell halfway into panic as the approaching voices grew louder, sounding ready to burst through the doors at any second.
Ji Gwan-young was about to say something to calm his Guide down. But Tae-hoon beat him to it.
“We’re screwed. We’re seriously screwed. Ah, fuck!”
The Esper’s eyes widened roundly at hearing his lover curse for the first time.
Profanity coming out of that mouth—which always spoke with perfect politeness—and in that low, clean voice that suited the word neat so well, was honestly an oddly fascinating combination.
“What do we do? What do we do? What the hell do we do?”
“…Choi Tae-hoon.”
Ji Gwan-young could’ve sworn Tae-hoon’s eyes flashed wildly for a split second as he looked at him.
Then, completely out of nowhere, the man grabbed him by the collar.
Frowning slightly, Gwan-young allowed himself to be dragged toward the edge of the stage. The force pulling him was so weak he could’ve shaken it off effortlessly, but when it came to his lover, he always softened endlessly, leaving him no other option.
Tae-hoon finally stopped at one corner of the stage.
“Get in.”
Behind the dark red blackout curtain at the back of the stage was a filthy storage-like area filled with random junk and dust—somewhere anyone would instinctively recoil from.
“You’re joking.”
“Ah, hurry! Crouch down, don’t make a sound, and stay hidden!”
Ji Gwan-young looked utterly unwilling to even touch the curtain emblazoned loudly with The Center’s logo as he prepared to firmly refuse.
But the Guide shoving him forward was even faster.
And admittedly, the treatment was fairly rude considering he was handling a man who looked exactly like the irresistible lead actor from a ratings-smashing drama beloved by women everywhere.
“Hurry! Hurry!”
“Choi Tae-hoon, you seriously—!”
Ji Gwan-young raised his brows in irritation. But Tae-hoon was far too panicked to notice something like that right now.
If people found out Ji Gwan-young had spent the entire lunch break here with him, then not only today, but every future Guide training session would become something he could never show his face at again.
By the narrowest possible margin, Gwan-young slipped behind the dark, musty blackout curtain.
