He didn’t even need to try—he was just naturally good at everything. And once he did try, he was even better. The way he kissed was so overwhelming that Chi-yu kept losing focus, the guiding breaking again and again. It was getting seriously frustrating.
This was supposed to be a necessity, a performance-guiding under the PairBorn contract. Yet Hyun Tae-oh was kissing him like the cameras didn’t exist, pulling out techniques that felt far too practiced. Chi-yu had to fight for every shred of concentration just to keep the guiding intact through the kiss.
How the hell could someone who had never done this before be so good? And it wasn’t just kissing. The problem was that he was this good for something that was only supposed to be a Stage 2 guiding.
The thought that Tae-oh might kiss other Guides like this in the future—deep, intoxicating, stirring his body awake—left Chi-yu unreasonably bitter. What if, now that he’d already done it with him, Tae-oh decided saliva-contact guiding or even Stage 3 guiding would be fine to try with Min Yu-hyun? That thought terrified him.
Maybe the first step had been the hardest—what if Tae-oh realized it wasn’t such a big deal and started doing it with others too?
Feeling unjustly upset by his own thoughts, Chi-yu shoved at Tae-oh’s chest and turned his head away.
“Why?”
Tae-oh pulled back more easily than expected, his lips slick with spit as he asked the question.
“I couldn’t breathe. And you can’t just… do that in the middle of guiding.”
“Do what?”
“I mean… like that….”
When Chi-yu trailed off, unable to meet his eyes, Tae-oh reached out and wiped the saliva from his lips with his thumb.
“Like what?”
“……”
“Putting my tongue in your mouth?”
“Y-yeah. If you do it too much, the guiding cuts off.”
“Why?”
“……”
“Then how am I supposed to do it so it doesn’t? But isn’t kissing always like that?”
“Not everyone doing saliva-contact guiding goes that far.”
Unable to define exactly what counted as “too much,” Chi-yu faltered. Tae-oh raised a brow, pressing harder.
“This is your first time doing saliva-contact guiding, right?”
“…What? Of course it is.”
“Then how do you know it’s not usually done that way?”
“Because… Come on, you’ve never done Stage 2 or 3 either, but you know everything.”
“That’s just common knowledge.”
“This is common knowledge too. And honestly? You don’t just know things. You act like you’ve done them. Be honest—is this really your first time?”
It was just a question he tossed out, hoping to end the awkwardness quickly. But at those words, Hyun Tae-oh’s face froze cold.
He could’ve just said yes and moved on. Instead, his brow furrowed seriously, as if to say: Don’t you know better than anyone?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A sharp, icy laugh slipped from his lips.
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
“…I just—because you’re too good at it to be your first….”
“Being good at something the first time isn’t a crime.”
“…Fine, who said it was? I just—”
“You doubted me.”
“No, it wasn’t like that—”
“I’ve been with you for over twenty years. Since we were kids, who else have I had but you?”
“……”
“No one. And you know I’m not that kind of person. But you just tossed out, ‘Is it really your first time?’ like it was nothing.”
“……”
“What the hell am I to you?”
…Wait, how did it get here??
Chi-yu was thrown. A half-joking comment had turned into Tae-oh acting offended—and asking something like that.
What am I to you?
If he said, the person I’ve secretly loved for twenty years, Tae-oh would freak out and run. So why the hell was he even asking?
Without realizing, Chi-yu’s fists clenched tight.
“It wasn’t doubt. It’s just—you’re good at everything, even kissing—”
“Being suspected for being good at something I’ve never done—that’s unfair.”
“I said it wasn’t suspicious. Not everyone’s good the first time. I was saying you’re talented.”
“‘Talented,’ huh? Sounds more like you’re calling me a slut.”
“What—?! No! I never thought that!”
“Doesn’t matter—you still made me feel like shit.”
Irritated, Tae-oh turned to the camera crew.
“Keep the guiding footage. Cut the rest.”
“Yes, understood.”
“And, we need to talk.”
Grabbing Chi-yu’s wrist, he pulled him into the bedroom. He didn’t let go, walking him all the way to the bed.
He sat Chi-yu down and stood in front of him, staring down. When Chi-yu looked up, Tae-oh’s gaze was relentless, searching him for something.
“…What?”
Unable to take the silence, Chi-yu asked carefully.
“You. Why did you run away?”
He brought it up again—the wound that hadn’t healed.
“Run away?”
“You moved out.”
“That wasn’t—”
“Stop feeding me bullshit. Tell me the real reason.”
“……”
“Was I a burden to you?”
“What?”
“Did I annoy you? Did I push too much?”
“…When did you ever—”
“Then why’d you run?”
“…It wasn’t running. I just thought… before we got any older, it might be better to put some distance.”
“What the hell kind of excuse is that? Distance? Why?”
Tae-oh raised a brow, visibly displeased.
Since it had come to this, Chi-yu considered spilling everything—why Min Yu-hyun had come over, what the rumors were about. But before he could, Tae-oh crushed him with one line.
“What’s the point of distance between friends?”
The word stabbed him. His nose stung, and his face twisted as if he’d swallowed something bitter.
Friends.
Stage 2 guiding, Stage 3 guiding—they’d done it all. And yet, in the end, it was still “just friends.” A line drawn, never to be crossed.
And the worst part was that Tae-oh said it naturally, unconsciously, as if it were obvious. That hurt more than anything.
“…Yeah. Friends.”
Chi-yu let out a hollow laugh.
The more they talked, the less Tae-oh understood his expression, and the more frustrated he became.
“What the hell is your problem?”
His eyes seemed to demand, Why are you acting so weird?
Chi-yu pressed his lips shut, holding back the ache.
Silence settled heavy between them.
Tae-oh fumed at his friend’s sudden shift, while Chi-yu’s heart sank at hearing “friend” even after crossing that line.
When he finally steadied himself, Chi-yu lifted his head.
His eyes were faintly wet, enough to crease Tae-oh’s brow, but Chi-yu ignored it and spoke.
“There isn’t a problem. I’m just saying—we’re friends. And there’s a line between us.”
“Say it straight.”
“The truth is, even if we call it Stage 3 guiding, we crossed a line. Normal friends don’t do that, Tae-oh.”
“……”
“Stage 3… that’s something lovers do.”
At those words, Tae-oh’s face stiffened.
“But don’t misunderstand. I don’t regret it. If the situation came again, I’d still go to Stage 3 with you. Even if I ignored everything else—because I’m a Guide, and you’re an Esper who needed guiding.”
“What kind of bullshit is that? So you could just do that with some other Esper too?”
“I did it with you. Why couldn’t I do it with someone else?”
“Hey.”
“You and me both.”
At Tae-oh’s sharp hey, Chi-yu’s voice rose.
“In the end, we’ll both have someone else beside us.”
“……”
“You’ll find someone precious to you, and I’ll find someone precious to me. That’s why I thought—I can’t depend on you this much anymore. I can’t keep living with you as my first priority, wasting my youth without even dating, all because of you—well, not exactly because of you, but still.”
“……”
“So I moved out. I thought maybe it was time we started living more independently. That’s all.”
It wasn’t entirely true—but it wasn’t a lie either. If Tae-oh really ended up with Min Yu-hyun, Chi-yu would have to step back. And if Chi-yu found someone of his own, Tae-oh would need to step back too.
“Was that really necessary?”
But Tae-oh didn’t seem to see it that way.
“Necessary?”
Chi-yu echoed in disbelief.
“You dumped me in advance—just in case one day we found someone else. That’s what you mean by ‘necessary’?”
“Don’t twist my words. It wasn’t dumping. It was learning to be independent—”
“Whose idea was that?”
“…What?”
“That shitty thought, that if we find someone else, our priorities will change.”
“……That’s just reality.”
“Reality? Really?”
“Yes. If you had someone you loved, could you honestly put me first over them?”
“Yeah.”
The answer came instantly. Chi-yu let out a hollow laugh.
“Ha. At least think before you answer.”
“I did. There’s no one above you in my life. You’re it. You’re my friend, my family, my other half.”
“Imagine you had someone you loved.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
Tae-oh growled, annoyed.
“What would that be, to make me push you out of my life?”
…God, this idiot.
Chi-yu sighed deeply, closing his eyes before slowly opening them again.
“Love… that’s what it does.”
“Then fuck love. I won’t do it.”
“You can’t just choose not to. People fall in love whether they want to or not.”
“If I don’t, then I don’t. Why can’t I just not?”
“Because the heart just moves. You don’t decide, ‘Oh, I’ll love this person starting today.’ It just happens.”
“…Why are you talking like you’ve experienced it? Pisses me off.”
“Because I have.”
“…What?”
“Anyway… before either of us finds someone else—”
“The fuck? Who is it?”
Tae-oh’s eyes blazed with fury.
