Stage 2 Contact Guiding
The moment those words left Hyun Tae-oh’s mouth, Kang Chi-yu, who had been staring off somewhere with a startled expression, suddenly shoved Hyun Tae-oh away with all his might.
“Watch out!”
In that instant, a land-type monster appeared from seemingly nowhere, swinging a scythe-like limb that resembled a mantis’s foreleg to attack Kang Chi-yu.
Tae-oh swiftly used his Shadow Control ability to sever the monster’s foreleg, but since he’d been pushed by Chi-yu, his balance was thrown off for a split second. He was just a little too late—the razor-sharp tip of the monster’s limb slashed a long, deep line across Kang Chi-yu’s cheek.
“Ah!”
A vivid line of crimson blood welled up on Chi-yu’s pale cheek.
“Ah, fuck.”
A low curse slipped from Hyun Tae-oh’s mouth as he saw the blood.
Reaching out toward the monster—now screeching grotesquely with its foreleg sliced off—he pulled an immense amount of energy into himself, so much that his eyes turned golden. Then he rammed it into the creature’s body.
The monster, its form swelling like a bloated pufferfish, expanded rapidly as the invisible energy filled it to bursting.
With his outstretched hand, Tae-oh clenched his fist tightly.
With a loud pop, the creature exploded into pieces.
Kang Chi-yu’s eyes went wide in shock. It was unnecessary—he could’ve just killed the thing cleanly, but instead, Tae-oh pushed it to its absolute limits, inflicting as much pain as possible before making it explode.
And the moment that one died, Tae-oh turned on the remaining paralyzed monsters, blowing them all to pieces one by one.
It was like he was venting rage—obliterating them the moment they came into his line of sight.
Only after he’d destroyed every last one did he walk over to Chi-yu and wrap an arm around his waist.
Startled, Chi-yu looked at the shredded remains of the monsters and shouted,
“Hey! That’s way more than the required cleanup quota!”
“I know.”
“What the hell…!”
As Chi-yu stared at the scattered gore and back at Tae-oh in disbelief, the latter began shifting his energy flow in preparation for teleportation and muttered,
“You got hurt. It was revenge.”
Then, instead of heading home, he teleported straight to the Central Bureau’s Guide-exclusive medical ward.
The moment he locked eyes with the staff member at the reception desk, he asked bluntly,
“Where’s Professor Choi Ga-jun?”
“Huh? Oh, Professor Choi Ga-jun is—”
“Hey, it’s just a scratch. Why are you calling Professor Choi?”
More flustered than the receptionist, Kang Chi-yu hissed in a whisper, but Tae-oh only twitched an eyebrow and urged the still-dazed staff.
“Call him. Now.”
“Ah—yes, right away…!”
Chi-yu frowned and muttered to Tae-oh,
“Ha… Hyun Tae-oh, seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
“You got hurt.”
“Ugh. I told you, it’s just a little scratch. I could’ve just slapped on some ointment at home—”
“It’s your face. What if it leaves a scar? Don’t say shit like that.”
“I mean, it’s not even that deep—”
“Your face is precious. Especially yours.”
Seriously, what the hell…
“Okay, okay, fine. Now let go of me already.”
Chi-yu gently tapped Tae-oh’s arm, which was still wrapped around his waist from the teleport.
He was holding him so tightly it looked awkward—and downright embarrassing with the receptionist watching.
For someone with such a severe aversion to physical contact, the way he was clinging like this didn’t make any sense. But Tae-oh didn’t seem to care at all. And instead of letting go like he was told, he pulled him in even closer.
It made Chi-yu wonder if that contact aversion had magically vanished during the two weeks they’d been apart.
Chi-yu looked up at him in disbelief as Tae-oh hugged him even tighter, practically squeezing his waist now.
Tae-oh looked down at him with the most harmless expression imaginable and spoke in an even gentler voice.
“You’re a patient. I’m supporting you.”
What kind of bullshit is that?
Chi-yu was so baffled he actually shouted.
“Everything else is perfectly fine, okay!?”
Tae-oh didn’t care. He continued glaring at the receptionist, threatening them with his eyes to hurry and call Professor Choi Ga-jun.
Afraid that Professor Choi—the busiest doctor in the ward—might really get dragged over for a simple scratch, Chi-yu quickly pleaded with the receptionist,
“It’s just a facial injury, and we don’t want to wait long. Is there anyone available right now who can see me?”
“Oh—yes! One moment.”
Relieved that he didn’t have to summon Professor Choi, the staffer instantly lit up and checked the computer.
“I said we need Professor Choi Ga-jun.”
“Oh, give me a break. What if it scars while you waste time?”
“What floor is he on right now? I’ll teleport—”
“Professor Choi specializes in wavelength energy, remember? This is a skin injury.”
“We’ve called Professor Yoon Jae-joon!”
“Oh, thank you.”
“Professor Yoon is with Plastic Surgery!!”
Startled by the expression twisting Tae-oh’s face, the receptionist quickly shouted the clarification.
The moment he heard Plastic Surgery, Tae-oh’s expression softened a little. He stared at the long cut on Chi-yu’s cheek with concern.
Chi-yu, still trapped in Tae-oh’s arms, gave the receptionist a complicated look, as if pleading for rescue.
***
Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep, so after receiving relatively quick treatment, they returned home.
The film crew, who had arrived earlier and were already waiting, collected the miniature cameras from Hyun Tae-oh and Kang Chi-yu, expressing concern for Chi-yu’s injury.
“Are you okay?”
“Ah, it looks worse than it is. It’s not that deep, so I’m fine.”
“How did it happen?”
“Ah…”
Kang Chi-yu hesitated for a moment.
Just as Hyun Tae-oh had been taking off his gloves, a monster appeared out of nowhere and went to attack him. Without thinking, Chi-yu had reached out instinctively. The moment Tae-oh was pushed back, the monster’s limb had come flying straight at his face.
If Tae-oh hadn’t used his Shadow Control ability to slice off the monster’s arm right then, half of Chi-yu’s face would’ve likely been ripped clean off.
The thought alone made him shiver. Tae-oh gently reached out and brushed a hand over the wounded side of his cheek with great care.
“They said it won’t leave a scar, so I’m trusting that.”
The look Tae-oh had given Professor Yoon Jae-joon earlier—like he’d kill the man if there were a scar—was enough to make Chi-yu nod quickly and chant over and over, “There won’t be a scar. No scar. No scar, no scar.”
“Your eye color changed.”
The main director of the crew, who appeared to be in charge, said as he placed the miniature camera into a silver case and looked at Tae-oh.
At that, Chi-yu let out a soft “Ah,” and turned to Tae-oh.
“You need Guiding, right? Your eye color won’t return to normal with Radiant Guiding alone.”
Before Tae-oh could respond, the main director interjected.
“As stated in the contract, Guiding must be performed at Stage 2 Contact Guiding level.”
Chi-yu’s eyes went wide, nearly popping out of his head. Even Tae-oh looked slightly surprised, as if this was news to him too.
“Stage 2 Contact Guiding means…”
“Saliva Contact Guiding,” the director clarified.
“WHAT!?”
Chi-yu practically jumped.
He hadn’t expected this at all.
It was partly his own fault for not reading the contract thoroughly from the start, and partly because he hadn’t watched A Pair is Born (PairBorn) properly—but still. Saliva Contact Guiding?
That kind of Guiding was rare even among pairs who had developed a budding romance or were already in a relationship.
More importantly, he and Tae-oh were childhood friends.
Even setting that aside, Tae-oh had extreme mysophobia. There was no way he’d agree to something like Saliva Contact Guiding.
Unless it was with someone like Min Yu-hyun—maybe then it’d be possible.
“Uh, I don’t think Esper Hyun Tae-oh can do Saliva Contact Guiding. We’ll probably need to renegotiate that part of the contract,” Chi-yu said to the main director.
Tae-oh stared straight at him.
“Uh, the thing is… that’s kind of the main draw of PairBorn…” the director trailed off awkwardly.
What kind of matchmaking reality show was this supposed to be?
Sure, it was a show about temporary pairings between Espers and Guides, capturing their daily lives in raw detail. But Saliva Contact Guiding?
Most of the cast were Espers and Guides from the Central Bureau, and he’d never once heard about this detail—which made it all the more baffling.
Flustered, Chi-yu pulled out his phone.
“I’ll check with the executive producer—”
Before he could finish, Tae-oh gently placed a hand over his and took the phone away.
Then, without a shred of hesitation, he turned to the director and said,
“I’ll do it.”
“WHAT!?”
Chi-yu shouted before he could stop himself. Tae-oh looked down at him, calm as ever.
“A contract’s a contract. If we agreed to do this, then we should follow through.”
“No—wait! Are you sure about this?”
“Why? You’re not?”
“I mean…!”
Chi-yu, flustered again, dropped his voice low enough for only Tae-oh to hear.
“I don’t have mysophobia, so I don’t mind, but you do. Do you even know what Saliva Contact Guiding means? It means your tongue touches mine. Are you really okay with that?”
“What’s the big deal?”
While Chi-yu whispered urgently in fear the crew might overhear, Tae-oh responded with his usual voice, totally unfazed.
Chi-yu stared at him, completely dumbfounded.
He didn’t seem like a different person, but he didn’t quite seem like the Tae-oh he knew either.
What the hell had happened in the two weeks they’d been apart to make him change like this?
All that aside, just the fact that he was about to kiss Hyun Tae-oh had completely short-circuited Chi-yu’s brain.
“Are you really okay with this?” he asked again, seriously this time.
The thought that Min Yu-hyun might see this crossed his mind. He didn’t know why he was even worrying about that—but if Min Yu-hyun took issue with him and Tae-oh kissing, then maybe this would be the thing that finally drove a wedge between him and Tae-oh for good.
Anyone would feel uncomfortable if their lover had a friend stuck to their side like a second skin.
And Tae-oh was such an unusual case—he didn’t let anyone near him. The fact that Chi-yu had been allowed to stay at his side for so long must’ve already been unnerving enough.
So while the person who’d caused all these swirling thoughts stood there, calm and indifferent, Chi-yu’s insides were burning to ash.
