“Nngh, ah….”
His vision kept flashing white. It was because of the Esper below him—sucking him off with absolutely no regard for his state. The more his sensitive skin was stimulated, the deeper and heavier the waves of Guiding became. Park Woo-jun’s instinctive movements were relentless, and Lee Han-seo had no way to stop them.
To think—after the dungeon had fully closed, they were now out in the open, on what was practically an ordinary street, with his pants down and his cock in someone’s mouth. Before meeting Park Woo-jun, Han-seo would never have imagined something this insane.
“Ah, Woo-jun, ngh, ah, right there, yeah…”
Gripping Han-seo’s thighs like restraints, Park Woo-jun buried his face between them like an animal. From the head already dripping precum down to the inner thighs, he licked and sucked without restraint. When his sharp canines grazed a sensitive spot, jolts of tension shot through Han-seo’s head, leaving him reeling.
Eventually, it was Han-seo who gave in first. He reached a hand behind himself. If he came, there was a good chance they’d have to start Guiding immediately, and yet the aching, loosened hole inside him was already craving more. Just getting sucked off wasn’t cutting it anymore.
“Hah, ah, ahhh….”
Even as Woo-jun worked him over, Han-seo slipped his own fingers into his hole. A breathy moan escaped his lips without meaning to. The lube he’d applied earlier had already melted completely, and every finger he pushed in made wet squelching sounds as it spread.
Woo-jun likely didn’t even understand what Han-seo was doing—but that didn’t stop him. He licked up the gel running down his thighs and even the fingers stretching him open, tongue following the trails like he was tracing lightning across his skin.
“Lie down—yeah, just like that.”
Han-seo shoved Woo-jun down onto the combat suit they’d stripped off earlier, barely spread across the ground. Woo-jun obediently lay back, though he still wouldn’t pull his face away from Han-seo’s crotch, making things difficult. This isn’t the time for that—I’m trying to give you something better, okay? Han-seo swallowed thickly and forced the words out.
“Nngh—haa, ah!”
He aligned himself with Woo-jun’s flushed, angry cock and sank down. Stars exploded in his vision. His slick hole moved greedily, guiding Woo-jun’s cock deep inside. He’d loosened up beforehand, sure, but maybe dropping down in one go was overconfident—tears welled in his eyes from the sheer stretch.
He paused, trying to adjust to the fullness spreading him open, but Woo-jun, now breathing hard, had no intention of slowing down.
“Not so fast, ngh, ngh, Park Woo-jun, ah, aaah!”
No one had taught him, but somehow Woo-jun instinctively knew how to grip Han-seo’s hips and thrust up with brute strength. He didn’t care how much Han-seo trembled or how overwhelmed he looked—he just kept moving. All Han-seo could do was plant a hand on his chest and hang on, trembling with every brutal stroke.
“Woo-jun, Woo-jun-ah, hnn, what do I do, ngh…”
Each thrust made his taut belly flutter with shadows. That thick cock—so hard to take every time—always had to make its presence known. With something this big, there was no need to find sweet spots. It hit everything.
“Hh, ah, ahh!”
Han-seo shuddered and came, unable to hold back. But Woo-jun, high off the taste of pleasure, didn’t stop. He kept pounding into him, and the slick, wet sounds filled the air so intensely, it felt like even Han-seo’s ears were soaked.
That dark, focused gaze stayed locked on Han-seo like he was prey. Han-seo knew it was just from excitement, but it still made something inside him ache. Even in the middle of all this, he reached out for a kiss, sniffling, tears streaming as he stuck out his tongue.
Woo-jun, who hadn’t even understood wait a second earlier, somehow got the message this time. Instead of his lips, he pushed a thick finger between Han-seo’s parted lips.
This bastard—did he finally snap out of it or what?
Han-seo wasn’t sure, but he didn’t voice it. All he could do was pant and hold on.
***
—We will now begin the July 20xx Disaster Management Evaluation for the Seoul Central Branch of the Esper Affairs Center. We sincerely thank our esteemed guests for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend…
The voice of Guide Management Department Team Leader Park Kyu-gwan echoed crisply across the hall. The nonstop burst of camera flashes was obnoxiously loud and bright.
What fresh hell is this…
Sitting next to Park Woo-jun, with the Director of Esper Affairs and the Prime Minister just a few seats away, Han-seo kept a perfect public face, though inwardly he was cursing.
Is this why Kim Joon-young and Lee Jung-hyuk bolted the moment their minimum term was up? Quit everything like they were running for their lives and went back to being just a normal Esper and Guide?
Back then, attention had been split between them. Now, every searing gaze in the room was fixed squarely on Han-seo and Woo-jun.
It wasn’t pressure. It was just annoying. He was used to the media circus by now, having dealt with it since the moment he got evaluated. But Woo-jun wasn’t. His Esper was soft-hearted, and this kind of scrutiny could mess with him. Especially when the “evaluation” was more of a formal public reprimand.
After news broke that three A-Class Guides and one B-Class Esper had died during a mission at an S-Class Dungeon in a small city in Chungcheong Province, it had been a while since the Center found itself under such intense fire.
The families of the deceased weren’t angry—they’d known the risks from the beginning. They just wanted to grieve in peace.
But strangers had plenty to say. How can we pay taxes when you can’t even manage dungeons properly? What happens if monsters escape and reach the outside? Who’s responsible then?
The media latched onto the outrage and fanned the flames. It was only a matter of time before the issue exploded. What should’ve been a simple internal report had now turned into this ridiculous public spectacle—all thanks to them.
With the general election just around the corner and political scandals exploding day after day, there was no juicier bait to divert public attention than this. Both the ruling and opposition parties had already sent their representatives to grovel in person, all with the same plea—“Just hang in there a little longer. Once the election’s over, we’ll make it worth your while.” They bowed, rattled off promises, and left, but no amount of polite lip service could make the situation feel any less disgusting.
Should I just burn it all down…?
The more blame that landed on Park Woo-jun—the one who had led the mission and commanded the team inside the dungeon—the more Han-seo’s fragile patience frayed at the edges.
And to think, the whole mess had started with that one Special-Type Esper. The guy had gone into an S-Class dungeon with an injured leg—just because he wanted to see what it was like. Han-seo could barely stop himself from cursing. If that bastard hadn’t dropped out, none of this would’ve happened.
He’d dragged four people down with him, and yet he was the only one who returned unscathed—just the same leg injury he’d gone in with. And still, all the outrage was being funneled toward Park Woo-jun instead. It was infuriating.
Sensing the tension on Han-seo’s face, Woo-jun glanced over with a small, knowing smile. Then, without a word, he laced their fingers together under the table, locking their hands tight. The shutters clicked again, perfectly timed. Han-seo was sure of it: at least a dozen headlines would go up within the hour, all reading something like “Team Leader Park Woo-jun Smiles in the Wake of Tragedy—But Why?”
“Hey. Don’t smile. Cameras.”
Han-seo whispered, barely moving his lips. His voice was softer than a breath, but for an Esper in full Guiding sync, it was loud and clear. Woo-jun didn’t answer. Instead, he gently ran his thumb over the back of Han-seo’s hand. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. That quiet gesture said it all—and Han-seo understood him perfectly.
He’d always seen Woo-jun as someone fragile, like a child left alone too close to the water’s edge. But now, looking closer, he realized—Park Woo-jun had gotten stronger. If he hadn’t joined the Center, he’d probably still be in the military or struggling to finish college. Just twenty-five years old and still so young.
They were the same age, but somehow, Han-seo had always felt like Woo-jun was far younger than him. He didn’t know that Woo-jun thought the exact same thing about him.
—Next, we’ll hear from Chief of Espers, Park Woo-jun. Questions will be taken after the briefing has concluded.
Finally, the dull formalities were over. It was Woo-jun’s turn. He brushed his thumb across the back of Han-seo’s hand one last time before rising to his feet and walking to the podium without a moment’s hesitation. His uniform—white with deep navy accents—stood out under the lights, sharp and commanding.
“Good afternoon. I’m Park Woo-jun, Chief of Espers at the Seoul Central Branch.”
Even in the windless air of the hall, Woo-jun’s hair shifted slightly as he moved. Han-seo straightened up, eyes scanning the room like a hawk. If any reporter dared to step out of line with their questions, he’d shut them down without mercy. Woo-jun might be tougher now, but he was still his Park Woo-jun—a precious sweet potato he’d protect no matter what.
