TG Ch 7(2) Part 3

Jeong Taeyul sucked in a breath as Sijin’s body pressed against his.

Due to their height difference, Sijin’s forehead rested against Jeong Taeyul’s shoulder. His muscular body was warm and surprisingly comforting. He could hear Jeong Taeyul’s heartbeat, closer than ever, faster than he’d expected. 

Thud.

Jeong Taeyul took half a step back, his foot catching on the edge of the examination table. Sijin, as if to calm him, placed a hand on his back, gently stroking it. Jeong Taeyul’s breathing deepened, his head turning away from Sijin.

Sijin felt a pang of embarrassment. He had forgotten about Jeong Taeyul’s aversion to physical contact.

‘I hope his readings aren’t dropping…’

He remembered his years at the youth center and tried to soothe Jeong Taeyul, “Good boy, Taeyul.”

“…..”

“Good boy.”

Jeong Taeyul didn’t respond. He was still tense, his hand gripping the metal support of the examination table. His muscles were rigid. Sijin continued to stroke his back, hoping to help him relax.

And then, something unexpected happened.

Jeong Taeyul hesitated, then cautiously wrapped his arms around Sijin, pulling him closer. Sijin’s eyes widened.

Jeong Taeyul buried his face in Sijin’s shoulder. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

Sijin smiled, relieved. He wasn’t resisting. He continued to stroke Jeong Taeyul’s back, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

Then, Jeong Taeyul spoke, his voice muffled by Sijin’s shoulder.

“Dr. Baek.”

“Yes.”

“…What if we…” 

Beep, beep, beep.

Sijin’s smartwatch alarm went off. 

He quickly pulled away, the sudden sound breaking the moment. They both looked at the smartwatch. The timer was set to three minutes. Sijin turned off the alarm and grabbed the device, placing it on Jeong Taeyul’s arm to check his readings.

“…Baek Sijin.”

Jeong Taeyul said his name, his voice tight, as if he was grinding his teeth.

But Sijin was focused on the readings. 

“Don’t call your doctor by his name.”

“Right now.”

“Quiet, I’m working.”

“…..”

Sijin said absentmindedly, his attention on the numbers. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks.

The results appeared on the screen. It was a quick test, measuring only his wave energy.

[-65%]

“Oh? It went up by 1% in just three minutes! Is it because he felt safe? That’s actually a significant improvement… huh?” 

The number changed again. -66%. The hope in Sijin’s eyes vanished.

“It dropped again…”

It was worse than if it had stayed the same. He had tasted hope, only to have it snatched away. He logged the data with a sigh.

Then, he looked up and froze. Jeong Taeyul was glaring at him, his brow furrowed.

He was probably annoyed by the experiment. But Sijin only had thirty minutes. He couldn’t waste any more time.

He took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his wrist. “Want to bite me?”

“What?”

“I showered before coming here. Go ahead.”

“…..”

Jeong Taeyul simply stared at him, his expression cold. Sijin, feeling a little intimidated, said, “G-Gently… just for two minutes. No, one minute… Ow!”

Jeong Taeyul suddenly bit down on his wrist. Sijin yelped, pulling his hand away. The bite was hard enough to leave a mark. He glared at Jeong Taeyul, rubbing his wrist.

“Ow, that hurts…”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Jeong Taeyul sighed, examined his wrist, then pulled his sleeve back down.

But Sijin persisted. He took a deep breath and offered his other arm. “Bite me again. I’ll try to endure it this time.” 

“…..”

He had made up his mind, but Jeong Taeyul simply stared at his arm, then at him, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Here.”

Sijin pushed his arm closer, his face tense.

But instead of biting him, Jeong Taeyul simply moved his arm away, his gaze fixed on Sijin. He was clenching his jaw, his muscles tensed.

He looked away, his gaze darting around the room, as if disgusted by the situation. Sijin, sensing the change in mood, fidgeted.

Jeong Taeyul asked, his voice cold, “I have a question.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“…What?”

“You wouldn’t go to such lengths for such a minor fluctuation.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not?” 

“No.”

Jeong Taeyul stared at him, his eyes filled with disappointment. He chuckled, his voice cold, “If it’s not a big deal, you would have just told me to do more guiding. Why risk your own safety?” 

“I’m doing this because your readings aren’t stabilizing, even after guiding.”

“Then, fuck… why don’t you ask me to bite another Esper?”

Jeong Taeyul’s voice was strained, his breathing ragged as he struggled to control his anger. His chest rose and fell rapidly. 

Sijin stared at him, his eyes wide with alarm. His hair was tousled, his eyes sharp, his brow furrowed.

But he wasn’t afraid. He knew Jeong Taeyul wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Jeong Taeyul…?”

As expected, Jeong Taeyul was the first to look away. He ripped off the examination equipment and stormed away, his head bowed, his hand running through his hair. With each breath, the muscles in his back rippled like molten lava. 

“Guide Jeong Taeyul…”

Sijin felt a pang of guilt. He had treated him like a wild animal. He couldn’t bring himself to approach him.

“Guiding… it’s not your everything. I’m just trying to explore all possibilities. So I can… react accordingly if you ever have an outburst.”

Jeong Taeyul scoffed. “So, if my readings really drop, you’re going to throw yourself in front of me?”

“If it works… yes.” 

Jeong Taeyul spun around, his face contorted with anger. 

“For me, don’t…!”

He stopped mid-sentence, his anger dissolving as he looked at Sijin’s innocent face.

His voice, when he spoke again, was laced with a strange vulnerability.

“Don’t… try to sacrifice yourself for an Ability User.”

“…..”

Sijin couldn’t answer. He could see a flicker of fear in Jeong Taeyul’s eyes.

He had never seen him like this before. He was intimidating, yet he seemed so fragile, as if he might shatter with a single touch.

Sijin knew what to do. Ability Users feared hurting innocent people with their abilities. He’d seen it countless times, mostly in teenagers. He suddenly saw Jeong Taeyul as a rebellious child, his anger a shield masking his fear.

“Guide Jeong Taeyul.”

He took a step towards Jeong Taeyul, who took a step back. Their distance mirrored the distance between their hearts.

Jeong Taeyul looked away, his head bowed, his hair falling over his eyes, casting shadows on his face. Sijin took another step forward, and Jeong Taeyul, as if exhausted, backed against the wall. 

“…..”

Sijin hugged him. Or rather, wrapped his arms around him. He wanted to offer him comfort, to hold him close.

Good boy, Taeyul.

He patted his back, as he had earlier. He didn’t say the words out loud, but he knew Jeong Taeyul could feel it. Jeong Taeyul’s ragged breathing gradually calmed. Sijin, feeling a surge of sympathy, held him tighter.

Sijin knew he was being overprotective. Running all sorts of tests and conducting reckless experiments over a minor fluctuation. His earlier words must have sounded ridiculous. A mere human, offering to protect an A-rank Guide.

But he had a reason. He had spent more than 10 years working with Ability Users, observing them, learning their vulnerabilities. His experiences and the weight of his father’s legacy had made him fiercely dedicated.

Jeong Taeyul’s breathing finally calmed, the tension in his body easing. Sijin spoke, his voice gentle, “Feeling better?”

“…..”

“Done venting?”

“…..”

“Say you’re sorry.”

“…Yes.” 

Jeong Taeyul mumbled reluctantly. Sijin chuckled and pulled away.

Jeong Taeyul, his head bowed, bit his lip, avoiding Sijin’s gaze. Sijin, forcing a smile, gently took his wrist.

He spoke, his voice calm and steady.

“Guide Jeong Taeyul.”

“…Yes.”

“An Esper’s outburst is a physical explosion, while a Guide’s outburst is an emotional implosion.”

“Even a five-year-old knows that.”

“I’m trying to explain what it truly means to lose your emotions.”

Jeong Taeyul scoffed, then muttered, as if resigned, “Yes, I know no one gets hurt when a Guide has an outburst.”

Sijin ignored his sarcasm and led him back to the examination table, “That’s right. A Guide’s outburst is much less… dramatic than an Esper’s outburst. No physical destruction, just… emotional devastation. And they’re much rarer, too. So, I understand if you think I’m being overprotective.” 

“…..”

Jeong Taeyul’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by his words. They reached the examination table. Sijin held up the equipment, his eyes pleading for understanding. Jeong Taeyul simply nodded, as if he didn’t care.

“But I’ve… seen a Guide’s outburst firsthand. A B-rank Guide, in his thirties.”