When Yeo Eun-jo opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at a ceiling he didn’t recognize.
I can’t believe I’m actually the one saying this line…
Half-hoping it might be a hospital, he sat up quickly. But no—this wasn’t a hospital room. It was clearly a bedroom.
Spacious, but sparse. Just a wooden bed, a desk, and a few soft lights embedded in the walls.
Is this… my room?
He’d spent the night in the Guiding Room, so it was possible this was his own space. As he stepped out of bed, he noticed a pair of neatly placed slippers on the floor—far too big for his feet.
They probably belong to the owner of the house.
That’s when he noticed what he was wearing—a plain white T-shirt that hung down past his hips. The sleeves were long, too. Definitely not his. Someone else’s clothes.
The last person he remembered seeing was Jung Tae-seok, which meant… this was probably Tae-seok’s house.
Just as he slipped his feet into the oversized slippers, the door opened—and in walked Jung Tae-seok.
“What the—already up?”
Tae-seok frowned when he saw him. He was wearing a white T-shirt identical to Eun-jo’s. Without his usual stiff uniform, his face looked softer, almost boyish.
He crossed the room in a few quick strides and scooped Eun-jo into his arms.
“Ah!”
Startled, Eun-jo instinctively wrapped his arms around Tae-seok’s neck.
“What are you doing?!”
“Sleep more. You’ve got to be exhausted after that energy drain.”
Tae-seok laid him back down on the bed, fluffed the pillow beneath his head, and pulled the blanket over him. Then he sat down at the edge of the bed.
“You’ve already slept a whole day. Two more should get you back on your feet.”
“I was out for that long?”
“Yeah. You scared me. I thought you were gonna die in my bed. I even called a doctor.”
“S-sorry…”
Eun-jo bit his lip and slowly slipped a hand out from under the covers, resting it gently on the back of Tae-seok’s hand.
“I’ll pay you back…”
“What, you think I’m broke or something? That I’d take money from you?”
“But it was money you didn’t need to spend…”
He wasn’t wrong. A healing-type Esper calling for a doctor didn’t make any sense to begin with. Jung Tae-seok had already used his ability—yet when Eun-jo still didn’t wake up, he completely lost his grip on reason.
“Just let me pay for it…”
Tae-seok let out a sigh, staring at Eun-jo’s downcast face.
“Forget it. Just lie down and behave.”
He gently peeled Eun-jo’s hand off his own and tucked it back under the blanket. His voice was curt, but his touch was careful—almost delicate.
Looking down at Eun-jo, resting there with that soft, innocent expression, Tae-seok felt a storm stirring in his chest again.
“Were you always like this?”
“Huh?”
He’d always been rough with Yeo Eun-jo. Partly because of his innate distrust of Guides—but more than anything, because Eun-jo never once showed up to training.
No matter how high his danger levels got, no matter how violently the waves of energy surged, Eun-jo never came. The only one who ever showed up was Kim Min-jae, a Guide sent in his place.
“I’m here on behalf of Yeo Eun-jo. He said he’s too sick to come.”
But that so-called “sick” Eun-jo had been perfectly fine, sitting in the Guiding Room later that same day. From that moment on, every bit of Tae-seok’s frustration turned on him.
Whenever Kim Min-jae hurled insults, whenever the center demanded he push his healing powers to the limit—Tae-seok had made a habit of blaming Eun-jo. That’s how badly he’d wanted him.
But now… now he found himself doubting Min-jae’s words for the first time. Someone like Eun-jo—so blindly devoted, so stupidly selfless he’d say it was fine even if it hurt—would never have done that.
“Were you always this…”
Were you always this concerned about me?
That one stubborn doubt clamped his mouth shut. Tae-seok stared at Eun-jo’s face, but no answer came. After a moment, he looked away.
“If you’re hungry, let me know. Try to sleep a bit more.”
But just as he turned to go, Eun-jo reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt. His grip was featherlight—Tae-seok could’ve easily pulled free—but he didn’t.
Eun-jo’s eyes darted anxiously before he finally spoke.
“Are you… hurt anywhere?”
“……”
Tae-seok froze, like he’d just heard something he wasn’t meant to hear. When no reply came, Eun-jo tried again, voice trembling.
“Tae-seok.”
“……”
“Jung Tae-seok, are you really hurt?”
He gave a slight tug on his shirt, and Tae-seok instinctively stepped closer. He stood there, stiff as if struck, and met Eun-jo’s gaze.
Eun-jo sat up and took his hand, speaking softly.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
The words came out sweet—like offering candy to a child.
Taming a dog was easy. Starve it until it’s desperate, then feed it. Make it learn who its savior is, who stands above.
Then, spoil it with affection, shower it with treats until its belly’s full—until it forgets how to live without you.
A dog never forgets the one who saved it.
And right now, Eun-jo planned to give Jung Tae-seok—who saw him as his one and only Guide—the first taste of happiness he’d ever known.
“You want to kiss me?”
“Mhm…”
“In case you’re hurting again…” Eun-jo murmured, almost to himself.
Tae-seok’s eyes flickered.
He hesitated for a long moment before turning his head.
“You slept all day, and now you want to kiss me?”
“I’ll do it. Just a little. I’ll stop before it gets too much.”
“……”
“Because you can’t stop.”
Eun-jo’s cheeks flushed, as if remembering something. Tae-seok pressed his lips together but said nothing—clearly thinking the same.
Eun-jo tossed off the blanket and patted the spot beside him.
“Come sit.”
With a quiet sigh, Jung Tae-seok settled onto the edge of the bed. As soon as he did, Eun-jo leaned in closer.
God, he’s stupidly handsome.
Seriously, talk about unfair. S-Rank abilities and a face like that? Life had clearly played favorites. Up close, Tae-seok’s features looked even more breathtaking. Eun-jo couldn’t help but think—if there were no Gates, no Espers or Guides, Jung Tae-seok would’ve ended up in the entertainment industry for sure.
Not idol material, though. And not the type to lead romance dramas either. He had the kind of face that played a supporting role in some gritty film, then exploded in popularity purely because of his looks—and rode that fame straight into a lifetime of commercials.
A chocolate ad would be perfect for him.
Just throw a trench coat over his shoulders and have him flash that bar of chocolate—he’d sell out shelves overnight. As Eun-jo stared into those soft, golden-brown eyes that almost seemed see-through, he drifted off in thought—until Tae-seok spoke.
“You’re not gonna start?”
“…I am. Just give me a second.”
Carefully, Eun-jo cupped both of Tae-seok’s cheeks in his hands. He leaned in slowly, like testing the temperature of the air, and brushed his lips gently against the corner of Tae-seok’s mouth.
A faint chup sounded as he pulled back.
“Was that okay?”
Before Tae-seok could respond, Eun-jo moved in again. Peck. Peck. Peck. Light, teasing kisses landed along the edge of his mouth, trailing toward his cheek like a soft breeze.
“How about this?”
“……”
“Is this enough?”
With every kiss, Tae-seok’s expression twisted more and more.
Oh wow, this is kind of fun.
Biting back a laugh, Eun-jo spoke with the tiniest, most hesitant voice—half teasing, half shy.
“Should I… s-start for real now?”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“I-I’m not! I’ll do it now, I swear!”
Flinching like he was about to be scolded, Eun-jo pulled Tae-seok’s face toward him. There was no finesse—he didn’t even tilt his head. He just went straight in, lips first.
Their mouths met—soft and plush. For a second, Eun-jo froze. Then he gently nibbled at Tae-seok’s lower lip, dragging the tip of his tongue along the edge. Slowly, he slipped his tongue between Tae-seok’s lips, awkwardly brushing against the inside.
Once upon a time, Eun-jo had been known across online forums as the king of kissing scenes. He kissed so well that whenever some actor gave a clumsy performance, people would flood the comments with clips of Eun-jo’s scenes for comparison.
And now, he was putting that skill to work—deliberately acting like he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.
Like a nervous high schooler having his first kiss, he fumbled and hesitated, brushing his tongue gently against Tae-seok’s, almost like asking am I doing this right? That alone was enough to push Tae-seok over the edge.
“Hngh…”
As if he’d been waiting for it, Tae-seok wrapped an arm around Eun-jo’s shoulders and pulled him in tight. Their lips crashed together, tongues intertwining as a wet, heated sound filled the space between them.
It wasn’t a kiss—it was an attack. Tae-seok kissed him like he was going to devour him whole, pushing him back toward the mattress. Eun-jo let out a soft, breathy moan, “Nngh… mm…” his voice trembling with each gasp.
Who the hell taught him to kiss like that?
It wasn’t the kind of kiss lovers shared—it was raw, wild. The kind you exchanged mid-sex, not in a quiet bedroom. Clearly, the guy had never had a proper relationship.
Yeah… we’ve got a long way to go.
Still, the physical body was perfect—it was the software that needed work. All Tae-seok needed now was a proper update in how to use it.
Just before Tae-seok could push him fully down onto the bed, Eun-jo tapped his shoulder.
