Yoo Ji-ho froze mid‑movement for a moment, studying that face for a long while before finally speaking again.
“We’ve got plenty of days ahead of us.”
His voice had softened noticeably. At that, the breath that had hitched in Hye-seong’s throat began to settle little by little.
“P-plenty… ahead…?”
“Yeah. Let’s go out together later. Okay?”
“Hhmp… okay…”
Hye-seong lowered his confused gaze and nodded. Even in this situation, his obedient reply—like a child dutifully doing as he was told—made the corner of Yoo Ji-ho’s mouth lift in satisfaction.
His body trembled in tiny waves, causing his lower entrance to twitch and clutch as if nibbling at the cock inside him. Yoo Ji-ho looked down and bit out a low curse.
The inside, soaked through, clung messily to the hot, rock-hard cock. He hadn’t been able to get a grip on the heat running through him for quite a while now.
“Ah… hah…”
“Uugh—slow… hhaa!”
His eyes gleamed as he fixed his gaze on the place they were joined, moving his hips by pure instinct.
Each time he pulled out, the cock came out coated in the cum that had slicked it earlier; each time he pushed back in, it pooled in a round ring at their joining and dripped downward. Exhaling in a dazed rush, Ji-ho let out a breathless laugh.
So this was that damn Guiding.
This was what every Esper except him had treated like their very lifeline. It felt insanely good—so good that it disgusted him.
***
The next morning, a gift box arrived at Ji-ho’s detached residence, addressed to Hye-seong with a letter attached.
After seeing Ji-ho off for his scheduled day, curiosity got the better of him and he opened the present—only to be genuinely shocked at what he found. The sender was none other than his former roommate, Kim Young-woo.
Both the gift and the letter seemed to be an apology for everything that had happened.
The letter said he’d said those things out of jealousy, that he was sorry for everything. At the end, Kim Young-woo added that he was quitting the Center for good and returning to his hometown permanently.
“You were chosen as Yoo Ji-ho Esper-nim’s guide because you were already suited for him. I said those things just to hurt you. I was pathetic. I’m really sorry.”
The rest filled an entire page with compliments about Hye-seong’s aptitude and ability—which felt completely over-the-top. Just reading it made his face burn.
Thinking of the hardship he’d gone through, Hye-seong reread the letter several times. Then, worried that Ji-ho might see it, he folded the letter and tucked it deep into the bag he’d brought from home.
Since the issue had been resolved well enough, he intended to ensure that Ji-ho would never, ever find out about Kim Young-woo. That was exactly how he planned to keep it.
I’m sorry for hiding it, Yoo Ji-ho… but things like this—I want to be the only one who knows.
He meant it. As a longtime fan, he wanted his hero to hear and see only good things.
All the dirty, ugly things in the world—he could carry those alone.
“What’s this?”
When he opened the gift, he found a beautifully wrapped box of premium chocolates.
After agonizing over it with a serious expression, he decided to destroy the evidence on the spot by eating them all. He desperately wanted to sit with Ji-ho and happily share them, but if Ji-ho asked why he’d received such a gift, he’d have to lie.
“You lie surprisingly well, Hye-seong.”
“No! I—I’m terrible at lying!”
“Exactly.”
He had been lucky to fool him that one time, but until he confessed to being a fan, every lie had been agonizing.
Eating eight pieces of chocolate was far better than telling half-baked lies to Yoo Ji-ho. So he devoured them diligently.
It was the best chocolate he’d ever tasted, and guilt poked at him with every bite. That only strengthened his resolve—he would buy chocolate himself someday and give it to Yoo Ji-ho as a gift.
Teacher’s Day might be weird…? But sugar made him feel energized, and his mood lifted considerably.
What the letter and gift returned to him wasn’t just the confidence he’d lost—it also reaffirmed the belief he’d carried for so long.
See? There really are no truly bad people in the world.
People just had bad sides, that was all. Smiling happily, he popped the last piece of chocolate into his mouth.
***
“Yoo Ji-ho.”
“…Hm?”
“Could I… maybe go look around the garden later?”
“……”
Standing at the entrance, sunlight pouring over him, Yoo Ji-ho quietly looked at him.
His gaze was caught by Hye-seong’s hair. Under the strong sunlight, the pale strands gleamed like golden thread.
“I’ve been everywhere else, but I haven’t been to the garden yet…”
Today, because of a national holiday, Ji-ho had an official event scheduled. No matter how shitty his mood was—no matter how shitty the day was—he couldn’t skip this one. And the very fact pissed him off more.
His hair was tidy, his Esper uniform immaculate.
Meanwhile, thanks to waking early, eating breakfast, and then dozing off again, Hye-seong’s hair stuck up in fluffy disarray. A few tufts at the crown swayed gently in the breeze drifting in through the entrance.
His eyes blinked slowly, still foggy with sleep. Each time those eyes—so similar in color to his hair—closed and opened, they disappeared and reappeared softly.
Wearing Ji-ho’s oversized clothes, which hung loosely off him, he looked even more rumpled. His lips, like droplets of paint on white paper, had grown fuller and rosier than before he came here.
Ji-ho wondered what they’d taste like if he bit into them right now. He already knew—he’d chewed them until they almost swelled apart—yet every time he looked, he wanted to know again.
If he lifted that shirt, the marks from a few nights ago would still be there. Part of him wanted to refresh them before they faded.
“Yoo Ji‑ho!”
“…Hm?”
“Ah, you didn’t answer…”
“What did you say?”
“The garden. I was wondering if I could go in while you’re out.”
Ji-ho paused to think. Why the hell would he want to look at that?
He’d only had someone decorate it because people kept nagging him that the place looked too barren. Aside from the balcony connected to the house, Ji-ho barely ever stepped into the lower garden.
Thinking about it, he realized that after he got back from the official event, his mood would be absolute shit. He would come home utterly fucked in the head.
“If I can’t go, that’s totally—”
Even after asking a second time, Ji-ho still didn’t answer. The silence, and the unwavering stare boring into him, made Hye-seong lower his gaze politely.
Finally Ji-ho spoke, sounding uninterested.
“You can. But today, wait for me and we’ll go together.”
“Huh? Together?”
“We didn’t get to take that walk before.”
“R-really?”
His expression brightened instantly.
“Okay!”
He’d planned to go alone, but if Ji-ho didn’t mind, then going together was far better. Ji-ho frowned slightly, puzzled.
“You’re that curious about the garden? There’s nothing special.”
“But I haven’t gone in yet. I always just look down at it from the window.”
So that’s what he’d been looking at from the window.
Without a word, Ji-ho suddenly placed a hand on top of his head.
The light brown strands that had been sticking up from static fell softly beneath his palm. Staring at the wide eyes looking up at him, Ji-ho spoke.
“Even if you want to see it, wait a bit. Eat lunch first.”
“…Okay.”
A beat late, Hye-seong nodded. Ji-ho kept his hand there a little longer, then turned to leave just when Hye-seong began to look confused.
Left alone in Ji-ho’s home again, lips still puffy, Hye-seong flapped his sleeves as he walked down the hall. He needed to head to the dining table, where his lunch had been set out.
For now, he was staying at Ji-ho’s place while the front door of his own dorm was being repaired, and until he returned to regular work as before. He didn’t even need to report in.
Honestly, he had never received a clear explanation about what exactly he was “waiting” for. Ji-ho had simply said that since Hye-seong was guiding him anyway, he could treat staying here as his work for the time being.
“Until the Director comes to drag you back, you can stay like this.”
“…R-right. Okay…”
Since Ji-ho was his superior, he accepted it without question.
And since Ji-ho needed regular guiding, letting him stay for a few days made sense—but still, hiding out at someone else’s home eating and sleeping made him feel like a burden.
I hope the door gets fixed soon…
If he could at least commute from home, he wouldn’t feel so indebted. He had already received far too much kindness.
He had never wished for anything, yet here he was—spending days in a spacious house, waking to meals prepared for him, eating lunch someone else cooked. How could life be this luxurious?
“Good morning, ma’am!”
“Mmhm. Sit and eat.”
Taking a seat, he greeted the housekeeper, who was tidying the kitchen. At first, he’d felt overwhelmed by the idea that someone was cooking just for him, but over the past days, they had grown comfortable around each other.
She was simply preparing meals as she always did for Ji-ho—and he was just temporarily benefitting by staying here.
“Thank you for the food!”
“Mmhm. Here—there’s fresh soup, so heat it up for dinner. I portioned the jangjorim in the fridge too.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
He noticed braised short ribs again—like the ones he’d devoured in a frenzy the day he arrived—though today’s seemed redder, not soy-based like last time.
What should I do after eating? Should I take a walk like yesterday?
He hadn’t gone into the garden yet, but for the past few days he’d walked along the path in front of the house after meals. As Ji-ho’s guide, he couldn’t neglect his health.
The detached residence was so deep within the Yeouido Center that you had to walk a long way to reach other facilities.
Often descending the gentle hill alone, he would turn back before any other building even came into view. There was no need to go far anyway.
“…No, not today.”
Thinking of heading out on his own again, he shook his head firmly.
I’m supposed to walk with Yoo Ji-ho later, so I shouldn’t go out by myself today.
