Kim Sibaek glanced up at Tae Woon, who was beaming innocently, then let out a quiet sigh and got to his feet.
“Watch him for a bit, will you?”
He gently lifted Lord Biendeoé from the crown of his head and set her down on Lee Hangyeol’s lap, then left the lab with Tae Woon in tow, saying nothing more.
…An Incarnate Body of a god? What even is that supposed to mean?
Lee Hangyeol replayed Kim Sibaek’s words over and over, but they still didn’t quite make sense. Even so, the power he’d witnessed was undeniable. He trusted Tae Woon—and if Tae Woon trusted Kim Sibaek, that was all he needed to know. If Tae Woon pointed to someone on the street and said, That’s a monster—kill it, he wouldn’t hesitate. And if that same Tae Woon vouched for Kim Sibaek, then he believed in him too.
After a moment’s hesitation, Lee Hangyeol carefully picked up the small crow chick, its fierce little eyes staring up at him with unsettling intensity.
The guild members who’d been lounging in the break room—sipping coffee or sprawled out in massage chairs—vanished the moment they sensed Tae Woon’s eerie presence. None dared cross his path. In seconds, the room was completely empty, leaving only Kim Sibaek and Tae Woon behind.
“……”
On any other day, Tae Woon might have pouted or whined—Why’d you go without breakfast? or I woke up and you weren’t there. I was lonely. But now, he simply smiled silently, gazing down at him.
His intent was clear. The boy who once blurted out every desire now waited patiently for Kim Sibaek to make the first move. Feeling the dryness in his throat, Kim Sibaek lifted a hand, fingers brushing over the scar running down his face—over the faint trace of magi etched into his skin like a tattoo.
“How’s your body? You should be resting. Why’d you come down here?”
“The poison’s completely neutralized. Suppressing the magi feels the same as usual.”
“You lied about the whole ‘erogenous zone’ thing, didn’t you?”
“If you touched me, you might’ve noticed the magi.”
“Just touching it wouldn’t tell me anything unless I was analyzing the energy.”
“Perfect. Then keep touching me.”
Tae Woon leaned in, offering himself again. What excuse was he using this time? When Kim Sibaek gave a faint, bitter smile and pulled his hand away, Tae Woon asked quietly:
“When can we do another treatment?”
“Even if you feel fine, that poison’s been in your system too long. The purification must’ve strained your body. So… once you’ve recovered a bit?”
“But you will purify me again, right? Once I recover?”
Kim Sibaek didn’t answer right away. He knew exactly what Tae Woon meant. Once Divine Power seeped into his body, his senses would become overly sensitive. If Kim Sibaek touched him then, the Tae Woon wouldn’t be able to suppress the desire welling up inside him. Yesterday, it ended with Tae Woon relieving himself. But next time?
“Hyung.”
That soft voice brushing past his ear stirred a sharp pang of déjà vu. Kim Sibaek recalled it slowly.
Ah. That dream.
The one where he became an Olympic gold medalist. The one where his younger brother lived, and they reunited. A future where everything turned out happily… except Tae Woon was left behind in a half-basement room.
It was the same voice he’d heard in that dream. The only child left in the world who still called him Hyung.
It was just a dream—one he knew was too good to be true. But remembering it still made his chest ache. How could any future be happy when Tae Woon was left abandoned?
“You said the future you saw—the world’s end—wasn’t all that different from now. So, it must be coming within a few years…”
“……”
“You’ve already lived a long life. And once you return to being Mak Slechth, you’ll live even longer, right?”
Kim Sibaek gazed into Tae Woon’s eyes—dark, quiet, and deep. There was a depth to that darkness that seemed to peel him apart, slowly swallowing him whole.
“This moment… it’ll just be a brief flicker in your long life, won’t it?”
The boy who once looked up at him from a damp basement now stood above him, looking down with the same steady gaze. Just five years old, yet his eyes held something ancient. Even back then, Kim Sibaek had wondered how a child could look so distant—so far away.
“Can’t you give me just one piece of that life? Just a single shard?”
“Who will you choose—me or that child?”
Maybe it was the dream’s memory bleeding into the present, but that question overlapped with Tae Woon’s voice, echoing inside his skull. Kim Sibaek shook his head lightly, trying to clear the fog. It wasn’t something he could choose. It wasn’t real.
The only thing that mattered now was the living, breathing Tae Woon in front of him. That was all. Because when he returned, they’d be separated forever.
“I hope that child gradually forgets about me—until I fade into nothing more than a distant memory.”
But he wouldn’t be able to forget Tae Woon. He knew Tae Woon’s longing—had stared into it. Knew it would one day consume him whole. And when their eyes met, what ignited inside him wasn’t the same emotion, but it burned with the same desperate heat.
Kim Sibaek realized then—this relationship could never be just physical, no matter how Tae Woon tried to frame it. Tae Woon didn’t understand just how deeply he’d embedded himself inside him. Nine years may seem short, but that time had shaped Kim Sibaek’s present and refused to let him forget the past.
“You’re leaving soon anyway, right?”
And yet Tae Woon was the one cutting off any future. Pouring out his yearning, yet denying any possibility of what could come next.
There was no future for them.
Kim Sibaek knew that. It was a fact. And yet… he still wanted to deny it. You want to forget me—but I’ll never forget you. Even if I don’t exist in your future, you’ll always be in mine.
“…You think this is just a fleeting moment?”
He swallowed the impulse that should never be spoken aloud. Gently, he embraced the child within himself. Even now, I don’t know what this fragment of heat passed from you to me really is. Maybe, just like you said, we’re bound in a way that won’t ever change—no matter how much we stir it up.
And that’s why—even in this moment—hesitation clung to Kim Sibaek like chains.
He could already sense it. One day, he would regret this choice. Not because their relationship had soured, but because of something else entirely—because of the boy who would slowly, inevitably consume him from the inside out.
Even knowing that, he couldn’t let go of one selfish, unwavering desire: he didn’t want to lose the child that still lived inside him.
He slowly rested his hand on Tae Woon’s shoulder.
“You’re too tall. Lean down a little.”
Tae Woon tilted his head obligingly. His lips were slightly parted, like he’d been waiting for this. Kim Sibaek leaned in. His breath skimmed over Tae Woon’s mouth before their lips touched—lightly, barely there, just enough to make the softest smack. Only then did Tae Woon exhale, slow and shallow.
As their breaths mingled and Kim Sibaek began to pull away, Tae Woon’s hands suddenly shot up, gripping his cheeks with surprising force. The tongue that had been lying in wait darted out, licking across his lips as Tae Woon pulled him in by the waist. Their mouths—and their bodies—pressed together, close enough to leave no space at all.
Tae Woon moved Kim Sibaek’s loosely draped hand up to his neck. Caught off guard, he ended up cradling it. A satisfied smile curved Tae Woon’s lips—and before he could say a word, something soft and hot shoved deep into his mouth.
“Hnn… mm…”
Tae Woon’s tongue dove in deep, probing the back of his throat, rubbing insistently against the roof of his mouth. It was rough, greedy, overwhelming—a kiss so deep it felt like it would suck not only the air from his lungs but the soul from his body. His head spun.
Kim Sibaek gasped, instinctively curling his own tongue around Tae Woon’s. Tae Woon paused for a split second, then tilted his head and pushed even deeper, their lips sealing tighter. The obscene sounds of saliva mixing and tongues sliding filled the air, loud in his ears. It was messier, hungrier—far more vulgar than the kiss from that night. A raw, tactile confirmation of lust that left no room for ambiguity.
Tae Woon’s hand slid down his back, squeezing his ass with shameless urgency. His other hand gripped Kim Sibaek’s cheek and neck like he wouldn’t let go, as if he couldn’t. Their bodies pressed tight, tongues and breath tangled together in a mess of spit and heat.
Every sensation etched itself into him. His lower half pulsed, blood surging. His skin flushed hot.
What must it have been like for Tae Woon that night, when every sensation would’ve hit even sharper than this? The thought crossed his mind—and with it came the image of Tae Woon, flushed and wildly aroused, burned into memory.
“Ngh…”
As if he’d read his thoughts, something thick and swollen pressed firmly against his thigh—grinding hard. The solid weight of Tae Woon’s arousal even through layers of fabric made it hard to breathe. The pressure between his own legs echoed back, suffocating and heavy.
“Haa…”
Their lips finally parted, and Tae Woon’s breath poured down in hot, ragged gasps. His tongue ached from being pulled so roughly, and his lips throbbed, swollen from all the biting and grinding. And yet Tae Woon’s eyes—dark, feverish, starving—still weren’t satisfied.
His lips, wet and smeared with spit, glistened. Tae Woon leaned in again, tongue flicking out to slowly lap it up. One stroke at a time. Then, he whispered—
