The ringtone jolted Do-jae and Jun-hyung awake at the same time.
Realizing they had each fallen asleep in their own single beds, they exchanged an awkward smile.
“I thought I passed out in the duty room. Can you believe this? Sleeping like this on a trip?”
Jun-hyung rubbed at his eyes, his voice still rough with sleep.
Do-jae chuckled faintly as he reached down and picked up his phone, which had been tossed haphazardly at the foot of his bed.
“Yes, Department Head.”
It was a call from the Esper Department Head.
Do-jae sat up and stepped outside to take the call, leaving Jun-hyung to sigh deeply. Even on weekends, the Central Bureau’s ace couldn’t escape the office. It was pitiful, but impressive all the same.
Jun-hyung checked the time on his phone and stretched, rolling his shoulders.
He thought about calling Do-il, but since Do-il and Yu-hyun had been drinking over at Tae-oh and Chi-yu’s place, they were probably still out cold. He gave up on the idea quickly.
He felt no unease, no jealousy about the two of them being together.
If there ever came a day when he could let someone back into his life, he was certain that person would be Beom Do-il.
And yet he couldn’t—not now. Not while he was still chained to the past.
Do-il had only ever looked at him, ever since their days at the Esper Academy.
Even when Jun-hyung was in love with Jeong Moo-young, even after they imprinted, even in the happiness of that bond—Do-il had looked only at him. So fixated it was suffocating. And Jun-hyung had pretended not to notice.
Maybe that was why.
He wanted Do-il to meet other people. To fall for someone new, to try dating, to find someone he could love so deeply he’d even consider imprinting again.
Of course, imagining himself left alone in the end left his own future bleak. But Do-il’s happiness mattered more than that.
He truly, desperately wanted Do-il to be happy.
When Moo-young died and Jun-hyung lost the will to live, Do-il was the one who kept him standing. The friend who had pulled him out of the abyss when he was drowning in it.
That was why Jun-hyung wanted him to find happiness.
Not to end up with someone like him—someone who still sometimes wept in his dreams, confessing his loneliness to a lover who no longer existed. He wanted Do-il to meet someone good.
He knew better than anyone that a man still bound to the past could never give Beom Do-il the happiness he deserved. So he prayed for someone who could.
Someone Do-il would fall for so deeply he wouldn’t know what to do. He prayed for that.
That was why he didn’t want to intrude on Do-il’s bickering with Min Yu-hyun, or the time they spent together.
If Do-il ever found out what he was thinking, he might erupt in fury. Or, more likely, swallow it down and smother it in silence.
That was just the kind of man Beom Do-il was.
Jun-hyung thought it would be wonderful—truly wonderful—if someone like that came along for him.
He stretched again, letting out a long, weary sigh.
***
Flash.
Do-il opened his eyes and blinked up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
He had no memory of how much he’d drunk last night—it was as if the reel had been cut.
When he tried to sit up, pain shot through the arm stretched out at his side. He turned his head—and his eyes nearly leapt out of his skull.
Min Yu-hyun was asleep on his arm, curled on his side.
Do-il jerked up in alarm, scrambling back on his butt and legs to put distance between them.
Yu-hyun’s head, which had been resting on his arm, thumped hard against the floor.
The impact stirred him briefly awake, but his eyes drifted closed again.
Do-il stared, blinking rapidly from a safe distance.
Why the hell was he here, sleeping with Min Yu-hyun? Where was Lee Jun-hyung? And had Jun-hyung, God forbid, seen him using his arm as a pillow?
Anxious thoughts crowded his head all at once.
Then memories of last night surfaced—the wild drinking, the ridiculous challenge—and he winced.
He couldn’t remember why he had decided he couldn’t lose to Min Yu-hyun, but he remembered forcing himself to keep drinking.
He remembered Yu-hyun slurring his name into “Beong-deori” in his drunken haze, how stupidly cute it had been, how he’d clutched his stomach laughing.
He remembered not even caring where everyone else had gone, just enjoying the drinks with Yu-hyun.
“…Haa.”
Beom Do-il buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply.
“Water…”
Yu-hyun stirred, his voice dry and cracked, asking for water.
Do-il shot to his feet, fetched a bottle from the mini-fridge, and handed it to him. Yu-hyun sat up slowly, fumbling with the cap.
It wouldn’t budge.
Without a thought, Do-il took the bottle back, twisted it open, and handed it over again.
With his face still puffy from sleep, Yu-hyun looked unexpectedly boyish.
The sharpness and arrogance that usually defined him were gone, leaving him looking almost pure.
Maybe it was just the swelling, but still—it was a side Do-il had never seen before.
“Where’d everyone go?”
Yu-hyun set the half-empty bottle on the floor, scanning the room.
“No idea. When I woke up, they were already gone.”
“Damn it. Where the hell did they go?”
Even though both of them had blacked out at some point, they hadn’t forgotten they’d dropped the honorifics. Their banter slipped easily into casual speech.
Yu-hyun stretched, groaning as if every bone ached. The noise he made was so much like an old man that Do-il snorted.
“…? What’re you laughing at?”
“You sounded like a grandpa.”
“What?”
“You feeling okay? Your stomach?”
“Not at all. What about you?”
“Better than you, hyung. You drank at least two bottles more than me.”
At the natural slip of hyung, Yu-hyun’s expression flickered strangely.
But Do-il didn’t notice, busy dialing Jun-hyung’s number.
– “Oh. You’re up?”
“Where are you?”
– “In the room you and Esper Yoon Do-jae were supposed to use.”
“What? You were with him?!”
– “Yeah. Where’s Guide Min Yu-hyun?”
“…Uh, he’s awake.”
The thought of Jun-hyung spending the night with Yoon Do-jae had him flaring up, but since he’d spent the night with Yu-hyun, he had no right to be upset. His voice quickly dropped.
“What about Chi-yu and Tae-oh?”
– “No word. They’re probably fine. We’re heading back to that restaurant for lunch. Want to join, or eat on your own?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m joining! I’ll be right there!”
– “Alright. See you.”
As soon as the call ended, Do-il turned to Yu-hyun.
“Hyung, let’s go eat.”
Yu-hyun nodded without thinking.
Normally, he would’ve been irritated at Do-il’s rush to Jun-hyung’s side. But the easy, natural hyung had left his mind spinning.
Maybe it was just the hangover. Either way, he couldn’t think straight.
***
Chi-yu woke two hours later, in the early afternoon.
Tae-oh was still sleeping deeply beside him.
Chi-yu reached for his phone on the nightstand to check the time, then turned back to study him.
Fast asleep, Tae-oh was still breathing heavily from last night’s intensity. Chi-yu let himself linger on the sight.
His whole body was sore, making it hard to sit up—but also, chances like this, to simply watch Tae-oh sleep so peacefully, were rare.
Then the worry crept back in—the Guiding that still wasn’t working properly.
Tae-oh must still have been living with that endless, gnawing pain.
Because he never showed it, Chi-yu kept forgetting.
He slipped a hand under the blanket, laced his fingers through Tae-oh’s, and began to Guide.
His body was heavy, his energy drained, but if it could lessen Tae-oh’s pain even a little by the time he woke, Chi-yu could’ve done it forever.
He pulled every bit of focus he had, threading his energy into Tae-oh’s wavelength.
Tae-oh’s brow twitched faintly, but he didn’t wake. Hoping he’d sleep at least another hour, Chi-yu kept going.
Sweat dotted his forehead.
The Bureau and the Association recommended thirty minutes as the ideal Guiding time—long enough to stabilize an Esper, short enough to keep the Guide from overexertion.
But Chi-yu had already passed forty minutes.
His energy was draining, but he had no thought of stopping. Energy could be replenished with food, rest, and time.
Yes, he’d end up weak, heavy-limbed, maybe even dizzy. But none of that mattered.
After an hour and a half of unbroken Guiding, his energy was completely gone.
Chi-yu collapsed back into unconsciousness.
Ten minutes later, Tae-oh stirred awake.
He checked the time, then pulled the blanket snugly over Chi-yu before slipping carefully from the bed.
He stretched, heading for the bathroom—then stopped, glancing back at the sleeping figure.
Worried the sound of the shower might wake him, he cast a water Defensive Barrier around the bed. The moment he did, he realized something: his wavelength had stabilized far more than before.
The pain that had been with him every single day, all year round, had dulled so much it was nearly gone.
Inside the bathroom, he met his own gaze in the mirror. His irises, once a glaring golden hue, had almost returned to their natural color.
“…Ah.”
He pressed a hand to his forehead.
Just imagining Chi-yu exhausting himself to Guide while he slept stirred a storm in his chest.
He could feel it—Chi-yu’s feelings for him.
He had never known emotions this warm, this overwhelming.
The joy of realizing that not only could he not live without Kang Chi-yu, but Kang Chi-yu could not live without him—it was a bliss beyond words.
A bliss incomparable even to any physical pleasure.
It was like fireworks exploding in his head.
Tae-oh splashed water on his face, grinning despite himself. Then he quickly turned on the shower.
He thought about what kind of restorative food he could prepare for Chi-yu, who must have drained himself completely.
And he resolved that today, he’d ditch the others and keep Chi-yu all to himself.
They’d already done the water play yesterday, and Chi-yu was far too tired for sightseeing anyway.
Not that Tae-oh had any intention of trailing around in a crowd, even if Chi-yu weren’t.
Under the spray, Tae-oh thought about how he could convince him to stay in their room all day, just the two of them.
