Ten days had passed since the gate appeared. During that time, Seo-ha kept track of developments through the news and gathered information by talking with Moon Roi.
“So they’ve already cleared three?”
It might not sound impressive with so many gates still left, but they were all A-rank.
“They’re handling the most dangerous ones first, excluding S-class. Not a bad strategy.”
The remaining lower-rank gates could be dealt with by Espers of corresponding levels, while high-level Espers could focus on the S-class ones.
It was a solid enough plan for the current situation, but there was still no room to relax.
“So it’ll take about three months to clear them all?”
Even setting aside the final S-class gate, the rest would have to be taken care of smoothly to prevent further casualties.
“Instead of wasting time worrying, I should just work on raising my sync rate.”
The steamy interactions with Han Ju-oh weren’t for pleasure—they were purely to boost compatibility. Some accidental kissing could be brushed off, but things had escalated since then—hands touching here and there. It was a little embarrassing and awkward, but Seo-ha was doing his best not to avoid it.
“The problem is, sometimes it gets overwhelming.”
If only he could control it as he pleased… But sometimes, it felt like his fuse was about to blow, barely holding on.
“Gotta stay sharp.”
He tried to open his eyes wide to show his determination, but since he hadn’t even washed his face after waking up, the effect was underwhelming.
Seo-ha got up with a stiff stretch, wondering what kind of guiding he’d do today with Han Ju-oh.
“What time is it?”
Seo-ha glanced at the clock. 6:12 a.m.
Lately, he had learned during their early morning guiding sessions that Han Ju-oh barely slept. Even at work, he trained nonstop, and at home, he kept working out just the same.
Thinking of Han Ju-oh, Seo-ha stretched both arms out wide.
“Guess I’ll head over for some guiding.”
***
Seo-ha, having only brushed his teeth, hesitated in front of Han Ju-oh’s door.
Yesterday, when he tried entering the door code, Secretary Park Joo-hee had flung her door open, scaring the life out of him.
“You’ve been really active even at dawn lately. Impressive stamina. Very impressive.”
She had given him a thumbs-up before shutting the door, but after that, it somehow became awkward to look her in the face.
‘Ah!’
Then a memory popped up.
He once visited a college friend’s house. The guy had gotten married, and before even enjoying the honeymoon phase, had a baby from an accidental pregnancy. Because of that, he was super sensitive to noise.
There was a sticker on the front door asking for knocks instead of ringing the bell, and the guy used to tiptoe everywhere.
“Press the pound key (#), then the password, then the pound key again—it won’t make a sound.”
He had said that while insisting they enter quietly since the baby was sleeping.
The model might differ, but if this lock was the same as his friend’s…
“Pound key, one-two-three-four… then pound key again?”
The door unlocked silently.
“Got it!”
Seo-ha nearly let out a cheer, barely restraining his excitement as he quietly opened the door.
The house was unusually quiet.
Seo-ha gently closed the front door behind him.
“Han Ju-oh?”
He kicked off his slippers and stepped forward, then noticed his pajama pants and scratched his head.
He must’ve gotten too comfortable around Han Ju-oh. No matter how close they were, showing up in pajama pants was a bit much for a work colleague.
‘I’ll guide first and change clothes right after.’
Going home to change and coming back would be more trouble. Since he’d already drawn the sword, he might as well swing it. Resolute, Seo-ha stepped further inside.
He opened the usual room where Han Ju-oh worked out—but he wasn’t there.
“Already finished training?”
Maybe he was in the shower? Seo-ha turned back, then noticed the master bedroom door was open.
“Or… is he sleeping?”
Come to think of it, he’d seen Han Ju-oh passed out before, but never just peacefully sleeping.
In dungeons, the man stayed on edge even while dozing—never letting his guard down.
“He’s good-looking even with his eyes closed.”
That was the problem.
Would’ve been nice if he slept with his mouth hanging open, drooling, eyes half-lidded—something more human.
Entertaining that thought, Seo-ha crept quietly into the bedroom, curious to finally see what Han Ju-oh looked like asleep.
He crouched low and shuffled forward, then spotted a lump on the bed.
The man was lying on his side without a blanket, his face hidden.
‘Is he half-buried in the bed or something?’
If one shoulder was pressed against the mattress, how was the other sticking up so high?
Seo-ha couldn’t understand it. But that deeply indented waistline was absurdly graceful.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, and then…
Han Ju-oh rolled over—and Seo-ha’s eyes flew wide.
He stayed hunched, frozen in place, not daring to stretch out.
After seeing that prominent shape on Han Ju-oh’s body, Seo-ha was too stunned to look anywhere else.
Like at Han Ju-oh’s eyes, which were wide open.
Or at the expression that suggested he was contemplating whether or not to devour Seo-ha.
‘I’ve probably missed more than I’ve actually seen up until now.’
He hadn’t seen every cock in the world, but Seo-ha could confidently say that whatever was dangling between Han Ju-oh’s legs had to be bigger than all of them.
Morning energy had it standing tall like it was ready to burst right through his clothes. That’s how boldly outlined and fiercely commanding it looked.
Sticking out his tongue in awe, Seo-ha suddenly realized he had made a sound and clapped a hand over his mouth. Turning his head to check if Han Ju-oh had woken up, he locked eyes with him—dead on.
“…How long have you been awake?”
“Since you started staring holes into my crotch.”
“I-It’s not like I meant to look or anything…”
Why did he even come here hoping to see Han Ju-oh sleeping? He didn’t gain a thing, and now things were just awkward.
“Got nothing to say?”
“…Sorry.”
Seo-ha awkwardly stretched his body and scratched his neck. No point in coming up with excuses—he’d get caught lying anyway. Better not to make things worse.
“You’re full of energy this morning.”
Han Ju-oh sat up as he said it, and Seo-ha shook his head.
“I think you’re the one with all the energy, not me.”
“…”
“…Sorry.”
Damned mouth.
Seo-ha sucked in his lips, vowing not to say anything more. Then tilted his head up boldly like he was asking, See? I’m serious this time.
Han Ju-oh looked at him like he was pathetic and got out of bed.
Seo-ha’s eyes automatically slid back to Han Ju-oh’s groin. Practically instinctual.
“Isn’t that… heavy?”
He opened his mouth again without thinking, curious how Han Ju-oh managed to “store” that thing on a daily basis.
“…Wanna find out? You can follow me around and hold it up.”
Seo-ha clamped his mouth shut again at Han Ju-oh’s biting sarcasm.
This time, he fluttered his eyes a few times in genuine repentance, and Han Ju-oh turned away.
As the sound of rushing water echoed from the bathroom, Seo-ha sighed.
“I’ve lost my damn mind.”
He shouldn’t have tried to look at Han Ju-oh sleeping.
“I’m never coming in uninvited again.”
Shoulders slumped, Seo-ha turned away.
As he slowly exited the bedroom, he muttered aloud, following the trail of his own thoughts.
“I’m not gonna have to touch that too one day, am I?”
Han Ju-oh’s earlier jab about “supporting” it popped into his head, and Seo-ha suddenly found himself imagining it—holding it up with both hands while guiding him.
That would mean his energy would have to flow through Han Ju-oh’s center, wouldn’t it…?
BANG!
A loud slam—like something breaking—startled Seo-ha into bolting out of the room.
***
About thirty minutes later, Han Ju-oh appeared—soaked from head to toe.
“Eat.”
Seo-ha, placing a glass of orange juice on the table, spoke to him. Breakfast was just about ready.
When Han Ju-oh yanked the chair out with a harsh scrape, Seo-ha flinched.
He had, after all, committed a bit of a crime.
“It’s toast this morning. I figured you’d be sick of curry…”
At the mention of “curry,” Han Ju-oh’s face twisted with distaste.
He’d had it for ten straight days—what started as tolerable was now outright revolting.
Seo-ha had hidden the big pot of curry deep in the fridge where it couldn’t be seen.
On a square plate, he laid out buttered toast, sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, and three kinds of spreads in separate little bowls.
When he took a seat across from Han Ju-oh, the latter’s brow furrowed.
“I’m skipping breakfast today.”
Seo-ha rubbed his stomach as he sipped his juice. For some reason, he had no appetite. Seeing that, Han Ju-oh didn’t push the matter.
“About earlier… I really am sorry.”
Watching Han Ju-oh take a bite of toast, Seo-ha offered a careful apology.
Then, taking the bread back from his hand, he spread jam and cheese on it, added scrambled eggs, and handed it back.
Han Ju-oh said nothing, drinking juice instead.
Meanwhile, Seo-ha neatly cut the sausage into bite-sized pieces. Did the same with the bacon, and even speared one with a fork to offer it to him.
“I guess I got too comfortable around you lately. That’s probably why I did it. But I won’t do that again.”
Seo-ha’s voice was serious, his tone sincere.
He wasn’t just saying it to smooth things over—he meant it.
He wanted to show that he genuinely understood how inappropriate and disrespectful his actions had been.
“If you ever walk in like that again…”
Han Ju-oh, now back to his usual self, picked up the fork with the bacon.
“…You’re not walking out.”
…How the hell was he supposed to take that?
