PV Ch.4 Part 3

“Just because you’re desperate… doesn’t mean you have to settle for anything. I have… standards.”

Bomin’s face, aside from the reddening bruise on his jaw, must have been pale. The pain was intensifying, a constant ache that throbbed in his bones. 

But his gaze remained defiant, unwavering. 

He seemed to attract trash. He’d often wondered, with a touch of self-deprecating humor, if it was because he was trash himself. 

He could tolerate most things, but there were two things he couldn’t stand: ugliness and bullies. 

He’d endured the male leads because of their looks, their size, their skills. And despite the unpleasantness of the Guiding process, the lack of consideration, the rough, almost violent s*x, the pleasure had been undeniable. 

But Lee Joonseo… He was repulsive, both in appearance and personality. And his c*ck, judging by the bulge in his pants, was unimpressive. Smaller than Bomin’s, even. 

“Agh…”

He hadn’t been able to hold back, his words laced with venom. His defiance earned him a shove, his face hitting the sofa cushions. He winced as he tried to close his jaw, the bones grinding together. He was pretty sure it was cracked.

“Let me teach you a lesson about… respect.”

Lee Joonseo grabbed his hips, lifting him, his movements rough, his hand fumbling with his belt buckle. He pulled down Bomin’s pants and underwear in one swift movement, exposing him.

Bomin’s hands trembled as he felt the cool air on his bare skin. He was in trouble. He had to do something, anything, to stop this. 

He’d known there were risks involved in coming here, but he hadn’t expected this. He might not be injured by the s*x itself, but the thought of being violated by this… creature filled him with a visceral disgust. 

He’d promised himself, as he’d gone to meet Shi Yu-hyeon, that he wouldn’t let the male leads use him without his consent, that he wouldn’t be their plaything. 

And now, he was about to be r*ped by a nameless extra, a character who didn’t even warrant a mention in the novel. He couldn’t let this happen. 

His fingers closed around a cold glass bottle. He swung it with all his might, aiming for Lee Joonseo’s head.

“If you can’t even block that… You shouldn’t call yourself an Esper.” 

He cursed the difference in their abilities. 

If this were his previous world, he’d have no problem fighting back, size difference be damned. He’d smash Lee Joonseo’s head in, bite him, do whatever it took to defend himself.

But against an Esper, he was powerless. 

“Hng…” 

Lee Joonseo’s fingers, thick and calloused, pushed inside him, not one, but two at once. He gasped, his nails digging into the sofa cushions, his body tensing against the intrusion. The pain in his jaw intensified, making his vision swim. 

“Nice and tight. You must have been really desperate.”

He’d have to get a weapon as soon as he got back. The original Bomin had never needed one. His life had revolved around the Guild, around the male leads. He’d had no need to venture out into the world, no need to defend himself. 

But Bomin was different. He wasn’t going to be confined to the Guild, to their whims. He needed to be able to protect himself.

Guide weapons weren’t cheap, but his safety was worth the expense. 

Lee Joonseo wasn’t trying to prepare him, to be gentle. He was simply testing the waters, savoring the tightness of his hole before the main event. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the tip of Lee Joonseo’s c*ck pressing against his entrance, a wave of nausea washing over him. Memories, unwanted and intrusive, flooded his mind, each one a fresh wound. 

A tear slid down his cheek, staining the sofa cushion.

“Lee Bomin.”

The door swung open, and a familiar voice cut through the haze of his terror. He didn’t have time to open his eyes before Lee Joonseo was ripped away from him, his body flying across the room, colliding with the wall.

“Ugh… What are you doing here…?” 

Lee Joonseo’s voice was weak, laced with fear. His earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by a pathetic desperation. 

“Who are you?”

“I can’t… Breathe…”

Before Lee Joonseo could scramble to his feet, the man who’d thrown him grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. 

Lee Joonseo’s body bulged, his muscles swelling, his arms doubling in size as he struggled against the relentless pressure. But the hand on his throat remained unwavering. 

“Agh…”

The sickening crunch of bones breaking filled the air, each snap punctuated by Lee Joonseo’s choked gasps. His eyes rolled back, the whites engulfing the pupils. 

He thrashed helplessly, his limbs flailing, his face contorted in a silent scream. He looked like an insect, crushed beneath a boot. 

Pink froth bubbled from his lips, and finally, the man released him, his body slumping against the wall, his impact leaving a dent in the plaster. 

“You ran away. Applied for vacation, and this is where you ended up?”

“…Long time no see.”

Bomin forced a smile, his hand reaching out weakly. He was free, for now, but the memories, the fear, lingered, leaving him shaken. 

He felt drained, his body heavy, as if all his energy had been sucked out of him. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” 

Song Jaeho’s voice was tight, his jaw clenched as he watched Bomin laugh, oblivious to the danger he’d just been in. He pulled up Bomin’s pants and underwear, his movements surprisingly gentle despite his anger. 

Bomin’s smile widened.

“Where’s your phone? Why weren’t you answering?” 

“I… I don’t know.” 

He blinked innocently, feigning confusion, even though his phone was in his pocket. 

“It’s right here. Don’t play dumb with me.” 

Song Jaeho’s sharp gaze zeroed in on his pocket. Bomin’s phone vibrated, slipping out of his pocket as if drawn by an invisible force, and landed in Song Jaeho’s hand. 

He paused, his fingers hovering over the screen. 

“You never used to have a passcode.”

“Did I?”

Bomin’s smile was infuriatingly carefree as Song Jaeho’s frown deepened. Song Jaeho took a deep breath, his broad chest expanding, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt before he forced himself to relax. 

“What happened, Bomin?”

His voice was serious, the usual playful lilt gone. Bomin sat up, leaning back against the sofa, his gaze meeting Song Jaeho’s.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting like this? You’ve never left the Guild before, not even for a day.”

Song Jaeho’s gaze was intense, scrutinizing. His light brown eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were dark, unreadable. 

He was right. Bomin hadn’t signed an exclusive Guiding contract with him. 

He was just one of many Guides Song Jaeho called upon whenever he needed a fix, a convenient symbiosis, like a crocodile and a plover bird. 

But why… Song Jaeho was struck by a wave of realization, the emotions he’d suppressed over the past few days crashing over him like a tidal wave. 

He was used to Bomin responding to his messages instantly, as if he’d been waiting for his call. It had started with a nagging sense of unease when his messages went unread for hours. 

Then his calls had gone unanswered. He’d searched the Guild, but Bomin was nowhere to be found. 

He’d finally gone to the Guide office, only to learn that Bomin had applied for vacation and left. 

He’d vanished without a word, without a trace. And the feeling it had evoked in Song Jaeho was… confusing.

Like realizing the importance of something you’d taken for granted, something as essential as air, only after it was gone. 

***

Unfamiliar emotions welled up within Song Jaeho, a burning fury igniting in his chest. He’d tracked Bomin down, his worry and frustration mounting with each passing moment, only to find him being manhandled, violated by that ugly bastard.

His control had snapped. It had been a while since he’d unleashed his power on a human, holding nothing back, his anger unrestrained.

“…Come back to the Guild.”

“Why should I? I’m still on vacation.” 

He pushed the unsettling emotions aside, refusing to examine them, choosing instead to focus on the relief flooding his senses. Bomin was back. His heart, which had felt as if it were constantly swaying, had finally settled. 

“Should I put in an emergency Guiding request?”

“Get another Guide. You’ve done it plenty of times before.” 

“…They’re all… busy.” 

He knew it was a weak excuse. His shoulders slumped, his playful demeanor gone. 

“Song Jaeho.”

“…What?” 

He pouted, his lower lip jutting out, looking like a petulant child. Bomin rose from the sofa and moved closer, pressing against him, their bodies brushing. 

Song Jaeho was dressed in casual clothes, his usual Esper uniform nowhere in sight, the change in attire highlighting his relaxed, almost carefree demeanor. But he avoided Bomin’s gaze, his eyes darting away. Bomin, sensing his discomfort, leaned in closer, his hips pressing against Song Jaeho’s. 

Their lower bodies aligned, the contact sending a jolt of heat through them both. 

“Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

Song Jaeho finally met his gaze, his light brown eyes, usually so bright and mischievous, now dark and intense, his face mirroring Bomin’s own seriousness. Bomin felt his heart skip a beat as he stared into those eyes, their depths clear, unclouded.

“You’ve been looking for me… because you wanted me to Guide you. Not any other Guide. Me.”

He let his hand trail down Song Jaeho’s chest, his touch lingering. Despite the lingering boyishness in his features, Song Jaeho’s body was as toned and muscular as the other male leads. 

He was far more appealing than the pathetic excuse for a man Bomin had just encountered. 

“…No, I wasn’t.”

His denial was unconvincing, his voice a touch too high, his gaze flickering away. 

“I’ll be honest.” 

“…About what?”

“Thank you, Song Jaeho. For saving me.”

He slid his arm around Song Jaeho’s neck, his toes lifting as he captured his lower lip between his teeth, sucking gently. Song Jaeho’s lips parted in a silent gasp as he pulled away, his expression a mixture of surprise and a strange, almost desperate yearning. 

“If it wasn’t for you… Things could have been… bad.” 

The Bomin Song Jaeho knew was proud, stubborn, refusing to apologize even when he was wrong. He craved affection, but all he’d ever shown was a possessive, almost suffocating need. 

But the Bomin standing before him now was sincere, his gratitude genuine, his gaze unwavering. 

His breath fanned against Song Jaeho’s cheek, warm and sweet, intoxicating. He felt himself falling, tumbling into a bottomless well, his senses overwhelmed. 

“I’m staying at the Central City Hotel. Room 1608.” 

“W-Why… why are you telling me…?”

“…I’m sleepy.”

He closed his eyes, his body slumping against Song Jaeho’s, the weight of his words heavy in the air. Song Jaeho, startled by the sudden loss of tension, instinctively used his telekinesis to lift Bomin, his movements smooth and controlled.