It really was an anomaly.
When Park Woo-jun checked his schedule, it was filled to the brim with video conferences—back-to-back international meetings and symposiums, all focused on how to handle the rapidly deteriorating situation.
If things kept escalating at this pace, the quiet murmurs about forming continental alliance centers might actually take shape.
With a soft sigh, he pushed back his chair and stood. Almost immediately, the door to his office opened—like someone had been waiting for just that moment. A familiar face peeked through the doorway.
“Good work, Team Leader,” said his aide.
Woo-jun offered a faint smile and waved off the compliment. It felt awkward to be praised by someone who handled nearly all the administrative work anyway.
“Please. I barely show up to the office, so the least I can do is work hard when I do. That was the last meeting, right? What’s next… let me see…”
“There’s a confidential meeting with the East Asian Esper Commanders at 4:30 p.m. two days from now. I’ll send you the materials before you leave today, so please review them beforehand.”
“Got it. I’ll head out now, then.”
“Okay! See you the day after tomorrow!”
The call had run longer than expected. Now he was cutting it close for his next appointment. He quickened his pace, stretching his stride. He’d intentionally scheduled this visit for a day when Lee Han-seo was out visiting family—so being even a little late would be a problem. They were having dinner together tonight, and Han-seo would be back no later than seven.
The place he arrived at, after briskly moving through the center, was the Esper Human Rights Department located on the outskirts. Once his appointment was confirmed and he was guided to a seat in the waiting area, Woo-jun finally checked his phone. He had set it to silent, and now there were dozens upon dozens of unread notifications.
Boyfriend ♡
[Woo-jun]
[Still on the callㅠㅠ?] 11:16 a.m.
[(Photo)]
[Grandpa came by, so we’re having tea together!] 11:22 a.m.
[Uncle says you must’ve sold your sweet potatoes somewhere else, showing up alone like this] 12:16 p.m.
[Wish you’d come tooㅠㅠㅠ] 12:17 p.m.
He hadn’t just failed to respond—he hadn’t even glanced at his phone. But Han-seo, unfazed by the silence, had kept up a steady stream of chatter, sending message after message like he had endless things to say. The little character emoticons sprinkled between the texts were round and adorable, just like him.
Switching off silent mode, Woo-jun slowly scrolled through the floating message bubbles. From the moment Han-seo stepped out of their lodging until now, his entire day played out clearly in those messages.
He was definitely reading with his eyes, but somehow it felt like the words were being spoken right next to his ear. The tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding quietly melted away. Using just his thumbs, he began typing out a reply.
[Just finished the meeting… At the training center now… Let me know when you’re heading out… I’ll meet you at the front gate…]
“Next, Park Woo-jun! Please proceed to Counseling Room 2!”
[Okay, train hard, I miss you already ♡♡]
Han-seo’s reply came in immediately, so fast he could barely keep up. As the bright red hearts floated on the screen like they were tickling his palm, Woo-jun let out a small smile and stood up from his seat.
He was just about to step into the counseling room when his phone buzzed again. But Han-seo said he’d be training, so he wouldn’t be messaging again. Then what…? Without thinking much of it, Woo-jun glanced at the brightly lit screen.
Father
[We’ve decided to return home next month.]
[I’ll get in touch when we arrive in Seoul.]
“Hm…”
Had it been shortly after his awakening when they last spoke? People who no longer had much to do with his life kept reappearing today, one after another. It was oddly disorienting.
He debated whether to send a simple “got it” in reply, still frozen in place by the door. The receptionist, noticing, called his name again.
“Mr. Park Woo-jun?”
“Ah, sorry. Going in now.”
He slipped the phone into the inner pocket of his jacket and firmly pulled open the counseling room door.
***
Crunch.
“My uncle kept insisting he’d definitely picked it himself while hiking—said it was 100% wild ginseng.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Crunch, crunch. The sound of biting into an apple was unusually crisp and cheerful. Woo-jun offered another freshly sliced piece to Han-seo, who happily accepted it without hesitation. Even though he’d already read all of this in the messages, hearing it directly was still better.
“So Grandpa got annoyed and started yelling at Secretary Jang to head to the Gangwon-do villa right now and bring back the wild ginseng they had in storage… Hey, hey, are you listening?”
“Of course I am. So, what happened next?”
“Mmm. So what happened next was…”
Just watching him eat was enough to feel full. Every time his jaw moved, the soft, plush curve of his cheeks wobbled with it, and Park Woo-jun couldn’t help the grin that kept tugging at his lips.
After going home and stuffing himself with delicious food, Han-seo had come back ravenous. Despite already scarfing down two full bowls of dinner, he now crunched into apple slices like a bottomless pit—grumbling about how full he was even as he kept biting in.
“Oh! And this—I heard it from my uncle today. Choi Jae-won? That guy’s completely unhinged.”
That part hadn’t shown up in any of the messages. Woo-jun paused mid-slice, looking up with a questioning glance.
“Remember what I told you? That the Sync Rate Increase Experiment was insanely painful? Turns out Jae-won and Ho-yeon didn’t have a high Matching Rate from the beginning. Jae-won forced it up by repeatedly joining the experiments outside the Center—on his own. Right after the official announcement that you and I had been paired. And get this—he lured in a disgraced researcher who’d been kicked out of the Center and paid for it himself. Didn’t even tell his uncle or aunt!”
Honestly, it was the kind of story Han-seo had every right to get worked up over—especially when you considered how old Choi Jae-won had been at the time. Just fifteen. A scrawny teenager who didn’t even know how his own body worked yet, pouring his own money into illegal experiments that could’ve permanently screwed him up. And outside the Center, no less, where nothing could be properly regulated.
“I had no idea he’d liked Ho-yeon for that long. When the hell did he even meet him? I keep asking and asking, but he won’t give me a straight answer. Which just makes me more curious, obviously.”
Han-seo kept ranting, his words tumbling out nonstop. But truthfully, it didn’t matter what Choi Jae-won or Ryu Ho-yeon had done. To Park Woo-jun, the important part was hearing Han-seo’s voice.
After peeling the last slice of apple, Woo-jun wiped his hands clean with a wet tissue. Then, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to those soft, irresistible lips.
“Ah! Seriously? I’m talking here!”
“Aww, keep going, baby. I’m listening.”
His lips were pillowy and warm, still tinged with the sweetness of apples. When Woo-jun gently grazed his lower lip with his teeth, Han-seo finally broke, letting out a breathy laugh as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Woo-jun’s head.
Smooch. Smack.
“I knew it. You’ve been giving me that look all evening, haven’t you? Huh?”
Between teasing, half-laughed words, their lips kept brushing, parting, meeting again. Light pecks grew heavier, hungrier. Two shadows sprawled across the sofa, pressed so close they seemed like one.
The kisses didn’t stop at his mouth. Woo-jun moved slowly—across creamy cheeks, down to the curve of his ear, then lower, tracing the fluttering beat at the base of his neck. Han-seo fidgeted beneath him, restless and warm, even as he was pinned down by Woo-jun’s weight.
Naturally, Woo-jun’s hand slipped under the hem of his shirt. When it slid over his stomach, Han-seo squirmed and let out a stifled groan.
“Don’t put your hand there.”
“Why noooot?”
“Just… not today.”
Woo-jun would’ve done anything if Han-seo asked—stopped breathing, rolled over and died on the spot, no hesitation. But the second someone says don’t, human instinct kicks in and makes you want to do it more. And judging by the way Han-seo avoided his eyes, Woo-jun already had a good idea why.
Letting out a smug little snort, he shoved his hand in deeper, right under the oversized loungewear.
“Hhhnng!”
Han-seo sucked in his breath hard, his stomach tensing as it pulled back. He’d been eating all day—then inhaled a plate of apples like nothing—and now, the little bump in his belly was clearly bothering him more than it should’ve.
“Ah, Lee Han-seo. Why are you so damn cute today?”
“…Shut up.”
That did it. Woo-jun dropped his head into Han-seo’s chest and burst into uncontrollable laughter. He couldn’t hold it in even if he tried.
“There’s nothing there! Literally, where’s your belly? I don’t see it. It’s not there.”
“I said stop talking.”
Han-seo rolled his eyes and slapped a hand over Woo-jun’s mouth, muttering under his breath. Woo-jun looked up, locked eyes with him, and slowly blinked once in surrender.
Only then did the hand fall away. With a helpless little chuckle, Woo-jun stopped playing with the skin beneath the shirt—but only because he had another idea. One by one, he began unfastening the buttons of Han-seo’s top from the collar down.
If he wasn’t allowed to touch, then he was damn well going to look.
