Park Se-yul frowned slightly as he checked Eun-jo’s condition. He seemed momentarily startled by his own arousal but, true to his position as Team Leader, he quickly tamped down his emotions. Pretending not to notice anything, Eun-jo sat up again and asked,
“Should we go another round?”
“Let’s stop here for today.”
Park Se-yul replied in a calm, level tone, then turned his gaze toward Jung Tae-seok, who had been watching the whole time.
“Jung Tae-seok.”
Like a restless puppy who’d lost its owner, Jung Tae-seok dashed over the moment he was called. You could practically see the wagging tail that wasn’t there. Maybe he’d gotten hot during training—he’d stripped off his shirt and was only wearing his pants. Park Se-yul clicked his tongue at the sight.
“You’ve been hanging around Lee Sang-heon too much. Turned into a mutt just like him?”
“It’s the middle of the night. Who cares? No one’s watching.”
Ah—only then did it seem to register who was watching. He glanced over at Eun-jo.
“He’s already seen everything anyway.”
Jung Tae-seok snatched the pistol from Eun-jo’s hand, then swiftly loaded the magazine and set it with practiced ease, his hands as deft as Park Se-yul’s. Placing the gun down on the table, he asked,
“Just need to heal him, right?”
“Yeah. Make sure to fix the muscle tissue properly. He’s got another round tomorrow.”
Jung Tae-seok winced, his face crumpling in disbelief. Again tomorrow? At this pace?
Every time he’d seen Yeo Eun-jo sprawled on the floor today, he’d had to fight the urge to run over. To him, Eun-jo looked like a tiny, defenseless creature throwing itself into the fray with everything it had—like a rabbit, a puppy… maybe even a hamster.
Just a while ago, he wouldn’t have spared him a second glance. But now things had changed. Dozens of times a day, he had to suppress the urge to get guiding from him. The longing to see him clashed with the need to keep his distance. That’s why he’d even shown up at the dorms last night.
So damn frustrating.
Jung Tae-seok whipped his head around to glare at Eun-jo. His face screamed, You’re seriously going through with this? Eun-jo gently wrapped a hand around his wrist, as if to calm him. That one touch instantly drew the attention of both men.
“I asked him to do it. I’ve got another session tomorrow.”
“You’re seriously planning to roll around like this again?”
“Like this?”
Park Se-yul repeated the phrase back at him, the tone sharp enough to spark a second round. Sensing the tension, Eun-jo quickly cut in and turned toward Park Se-yul.
“Thank you for making time today, Team Leader. But about the healing…”
He lifted his bruised and blotchy arms and legs and gave a sheepish grin.
“I think I’ll skip it. I’ll just get banged up again tomorrow, and Tae-seok won’t have time to use his ability in the field anyway. I want to get used to it.”
“Hyung!”
“It’s really not that bad.”
To prove his point, he waved his arms around like everything was fine.
“And the floor was pretty soft.”
As expected, Park Se-yul’s eyes were glued to the imprint he’d left. Seeing Eun-jo wearing his mark stirred a strange, quiet satisfaction. If he could add another mark over that same spot tomorrow… if he could cover every inch of that pale skin until there wasn’t a single untouched part left…
A dull ache pulsed in his thigh again, and he turned on his heel.
“Suit yourself.”
With long strides, he exited the training room. Unlike when he came in, there was no leisure in his steps now—just restless urgency.
“Ugh, seriously…”
Eun-jo let out a laugh under his breath. It was his first time dealing with someone with such obvious sadistic tendencies—oddly refreshing. Despite the many marks left on him, Park Se-yul must have had a natural knack for it or something—it hadn’t even hurt that much.
He wasn’t some divine sadist or anything. As Eun-jo lightly ran his hand up and down his arm—swish, swish—Jung Tae-seok suddenly grabbed his hand.
“Yeo Eun-jo, we need to talk.”
“Ugh,” Eun-jo groaned, exaggerating the pain. Tae-seok’s grip immediately loosened.
One was constantly fretting over hurting him—while the other seemed just as desperate to cause pain.
Eun-jo squinted, then asked softly,
“How long are you going to keep calling me ‘Yeo Eun-jo’?”
“…Hyung.”
“……”
“Eun-jo hyung.”
There was no way he could resist that hesitant, sheepish tone. Eun-jo sighed and gave a small nod.
The moment he got the go-ahead, Jung Tae-seok started speaking in a rush.
“You’re not okay. You’ve been coughing up blood, you even passed out—what kind of training do you think you’re doing in this condition?”
“……”
“Do you really have to go this far?”
“…I’m training because I’m not okay. I don’t want to drag anyone down.”
Eun-jo gently twisted his wrist, lacing his fingers between Tae-seok’s. As soon as the Guiding energy began to flow, Jung Tae-seok flinched.
“See? Even now, your body’s instinct is to pull away.”
“……”
“You didn’t let me Guide you because you were worried it’d be too much for me, didn’t you?”
Jung Tae-seok’s eyes trembled. He muttered something, avoiding the question, and turned his head away—revealing his ears flushed bright red.
Eun-jo stepped in closer and slid his other arm around Tae-seok’s waist, resting his forehead against his chest.
“Or… is it that you really don’t like me anymore?”
With the corners of his eyes turned down in a pitiful expression, Eun-jo looked up and asked softly,
“…Is that it? Tell me the truth.”
His small, uncertain voice made Tae-seok let out a groan. Still, he didn’t turn his head back. So Eun-jo pressed his face into his chest, hiding there.
As if begging for an answer, he began mouthing soft kisses against Tae-seok’s bare skin. It wasn’t a deep kiss—not yet—but it was intimate enough. As his lips moved, Tae-seok’s chest visibly expanded and fell, a sharp breath catching in his lungs.
“Of course not.”
“Then why… why do you keep avoiding me?”
Eun-jo kept teasing the line between his pecs with those gentle lips, and finally—like surrender—Tae-seok gripped his waist tightly and pulled him flush against his body. No space remained between them as their hearts pounded in unison—thump, thump—loud enough to feel.
“Don’t pull away from me.”
“……”
“I hate seeing you get hurt like this.”
“……”
“I want to be by your side when we go into the Gate. That’s why I’m doing this training… because I have to be strong enough to stay with you.”
Instead of answering, Tae-seok just held him tighter, his arms firm around him.
How can someone like this even exist?
The memory of Eun-jo sobbing, still trying to Guide while being choked out by Kim Min-jae, flashed through his mind. And nothing had changed. Just to be able to stand beside him, Eun-jo was enduring grueling training, Park Se-yul’s coldness—everything.
For someone like him, someone who’d never received anyone’s pity or devotion… Eun-jo felt like a miracle. Pressing his lips softly to Eun-jo’s hair, Tae-seok whispered,
“I don’t think I can hold back anymore, hyung.”
Eun-jo lifted his head from his chest, and Tae-seok gave a sweet, slightly mischievous smile.
“Will you do it for me?”
“Do… what?”
“That.”
Eun-jo’s eyes rolled a little as if trying to figure out if Tae-seok’s “that” meant the same thing he was thinking.
“The kiss.”
When Tae-seok gave the answer, Eun-jo squeezed his eyes shut, flustered. Tae-seok laughed, clearly finding the reaction adorable, his lashes trembling with tension.
Gulping, Eun-jo rose onto his toes. His soft lips brushed lightly against Tae-seok’s, tender and cautious.
As if he’d set a timer, Eun-jo pulled back precisely three seconds later, eyes fluttering open, sparkling with nerves.
“There… was that enough?”
“Do I look like that was enough to you?”
He shot back with a pout, and Eun-jo gave a tiny shake of his head.
“No… let me do it again.”
Smack. Smack.
The kind of sound that should never echo in a training facility rang out loud and clear. Until Tae-seok finally gave in and told him to stop, Eun-jo stayed in his arms, pressing soft kisses to his lips—again and again. And naturally, once their lips met… the tongue always followed.
With impatient hands, he cradled Eun-jo’s cheek, slipping his tongue past parted lips and gliding it deeper inside. He traced slow, teasing circles against the roof of Eun-jo’s mouth before tangling their tongues together.
“Nngh… mm…”
As always, Eun-jo kept his tongue deliberately stiff. If he showed even a fraction of the skill he’d honed from all his “acting,” he’d be bombarded with questions—Who’ve you been practicing with? Since when did you get this good?—and he was not in the mood for that. So instead, he rubbed awkwardly against one of the softer, squishier spots, drawing a shaky breath from Tae-seok.
Not that he was holding it together much better. It had been so long since their last kiss, and just from this alone, he was already getting wet down below.
“Mm… ah… nngh…”
Pretending to stay lost in the kiss, Eun-jo subtly slid his thigh between Tae-seok’s legs. When he pressed in slowly with just the right amount of pressure, the reaction was instant.
“Hhk!”
“Ah—s-sorry.”
Startled, Eun-jo quickly pulled away and apologized, lips parting as he glanced down nervously.
There it was—an obvious bulge pressing up beneath the fabric of Tae-seok’s gray training pants. Eun-jo sucked in a breath and awkwardly shifted, unsure of where to look.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll go down soon.”
“Still…”
He glanced from Tae-seok’s face to the straining tent in his pants. Then, as if making up his mind, he looked up and said in a quiet voice,
“There’s a shower room over there.”
A soft flush bloomed across both his cheeks.
“No one’s in there.”
The communal shower was large and spacious—built to accommodate the crowds that packed the training center during busy hours. But at this hour, it was completely empty. Just the two of them.
One side had a small soaking tub, and the other was lined with private shower stalls. Without missing a beat, Jung Tae-seok scooped Eun-jo into his arms and darted toward the farthest stall.
He wasn’t walking—he was running.
Aren’t there 3 chapters every week? Why are only 2 open?