Only their breathing filled the quiet room. Come to think of it, this was the first time Hye‑seong had ever slept beside Yoo Ji‑ho without any sexual contact at all.
When Yoo Ji‑ho held him while drenched in arousal, the pleasure was so overwhelming he could hardly think straight. Even when it felt like he might faint from exhaustion, the thought that Yoo Ji‑ho wanted him kept him determined to stay conscious.
And he knew—every one of those embraces came solely out of necessity.
Yet ironically, his heart was pounding harder now than it ever had then. Just lying still like this, he realized for the first time that a heart could beat fast enough to feel lethal.
He remembered Yoo Ji‑ho once talking about hearing someone’s breathing over the sound of the waves. Breathing was something you could at least try to control… but a heartbeat? How was he supposed to control that?
Anxious, Hye‑seong pressed a hand over his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging it to calm down. Or, if nothing else, hoping Yoo Ji‑ho might pretend not to notice.
“When I hold you like this, every time your heart beats, your whole body trembles a little.”
But Yoo Ji‑ho wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.
Hye‑seong froze, eyes blown wide.
“I always thought it was strange before…”
“……”
“So that was why.”
He murmured softly, then drew Hye‑seong even closer until their bodies were flush. He nuzzled into Hye‑seong’s soft hair and inhaled deeply, as if savoring his scent.
Hye‑seong parted his lips, thinking he ought to say something—but no words came. The fear he’d always had—that Yoo Ji‑ho might actually hear the sound of his heartbeat—was unfolding in real time.
“…I think I can finally believe it now.”
It was only after a long stretch of silence that Yoo Ji‑ho spoke again. His breathing slowly began to deepen. Even the hand that had been endlessly playing with Hye‑seong’s fingers began to still. The arm curled around Hye‑seong’s back grew warmer and warmer.
Hye‑seong squeezed his eyes shut and waited quietly, hoping he would fall into a deeper sleep.
***
The next morning—the first they’d shared in a while—Yoo Ji‑ho looked unusually cheerful. Even though he’d been dealing with unstable physical condition, he didn’t seem bothered by the meaningless combat drill he was scheduled for.
“Hye‑seong could go in my place and handle it just fine.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Never mind. That was a mistake.”
“……”
Looking at him warmly, Yoo Ji‑ho continued:
“You’d lose to a stray puppy on the street.”
“Huh? Why would a puppy be wandering around the street?”
“I’m heading out.”
And he suddenly swooped in to stamp a kiss on Hye‑seong’s lips before leaving. He looked like someone who had just solved a difficult puzzle.
But once he was gone, Hye‑seong collapsed face‑first into his pillow and didn’t move an inch.
He couldn’t focus on work or on anything else.
“…I think I can finally believe it now.”
Yoo Ji‑ho finally believed that Hye‑seong liked him. Yet he still seemed convinced those feelings would disappear eventually.
If Yoo Ji‑ho wanted a better Guide, he could have several lined up instantly. But secrecy, stability, and risk were major issues. Switching to a brand‑new Guide over something trivial would be the last thing he wanted.
Maybe that was why he wanted Hye‑seong to handle this alone—because these feelings were one‑sided. Maybe even now he was giving him time to sort himself out.
If I stay like this… can I really keep doing what I’ve been doing until now? Just like he said?
I always thought it was strange before…
……
So that was why.
Could he really hear things like that and still live normally beside him?
“Ughh…”
Groaning, Hye‑seong scrubbed his face against the pillow in distress.
If he’d known Yoo Ji‑ho would say something like that, he would never have confessed.
He hadn’t wanted to regret anything—but the regret was slowly creeping in. These feelings were something he had to bear alone regardless, but if he couldn’t let go anyway, he should’ve kept them to himself.
If hearing things like that last night… and feeling that kind of tenderness… is just going to hurt this much, how am I supposed to stay by his side?
Or maybe with time, I’ll learn to separate my work from my heart…
If only he could.
While he sighed heavily into his pillow, he thought—just faintly—that he heard Yoo Ji‑ho’s voice.
“Hye‑seong!”
“W‑What?!”
This time he definitely heard it. At the sound of his name, he sat bolt upright. Even while smashing his face into the pillow, he’d kept the glass bottle safely in hand; he set it gently on the bedside before hurrying out.
It was his first field deployment since returning from leave. He had claimed it would be simple—but apparently he’d finished unusually early.
Peeking downstairs, Hye‑seong saw him standing in the middle of the living room in full combat gear.
“You’re back safe?”
When Yoo Ji‑ho turned at the sound of his voice, he grimaced tiredly.
“I’m so exhausted today. I thought I was gonna die.”
“Huh? That’s not good!”
Startled, Hye‑seong rushed down the stairs. When he reached him and examined him anxiously, Yoo Ji‑ho peeled off his thick gloves and pinched his cheeks.
Exhausted? But he had said this morning that the mission’s difficulty was so low he was annoyed he even had to go. The actual field must have been different.
“Was it that hard?”
“Yeah.”
“You must’ve gone through a lot…”
Encouraged by those sympathetic eyes, Yoo Ji‑ho let out a dramatic sigh.
“They were ugly as shit. Just looking at them was emotionally devastating.”
“Huh? Mmph—!”
And then he kissed him.
The pull around his waist pressed their hips together, and the moment he felt something against him through their pants, Hye‑seong jerked away, turning his face to break the kiss.
“D‑Did you get hurt anywhere?”
“No.”
“That’s such a relief. Then rest up now. I’ll hold your hand for a while.”
Smiling, Hye‑seong gently pushed at his stomach to create some space. Even through the clothes, the hard abs didn’t budge. Yoo Ji‑ho simply laughed and intertwined their fingers.
“Holding hands is nice, but… Hye‑seong, how long am I supposed to wait?”
His hand slid along the small of Hye‑seong’s back, pressing softly. Their bodies closed the tiny gap, their hips aligning again.
“I’ve been giving you time like you asked, but if this keeps up, I won’t be able to function.”
“B‑Because of the guiding…?”
Eyes glued to his chest, Hye‑seong asked with a trembling voice.
After pondering a moment, Yoo Ji‑ho lowered his head again. His lips brushed against Hye‑seong’s neck as a warm, languid voice murmured:
“That too. But also… sleeping separately…”
“……”
“I hate it. I want you back in my room. Don’t leave again, Hye‑seong. Okay?”
Clinging to him like a stubborn child, he breathed deeply against Hye‑seong’s neck, as if trying to inhale everything. The gentle rubbing of his lips made Hye‑seong’s shoulders twitch uncontrollably.
“I don’t want to force you to decide.”
“R‑Right now? Ah—!”
Even when he tried to push him back, the arm around his waist pulled tighter, bending him backward. Yoo Ji‑ho’s lips climbed slowly from his throat toward the nape of his neck, refusing to part from his skin.
“I don’t want to force you… so hurry and make the right choice yourself, Hye‑seong.”
