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“Agent Choi? What are you doing here?”
Gomyeong startles at the sight of Choi, lounging on the waiting room couch… When he should be at home for his mandated vacation.
“Gomyeong-ah~” Choi half-smiles at her.. “I’m waiting for Bronze to finish up. You here for paperwork?”
“…Haegeum-unnie’s looking for the Enchanted Forest manual.” Gomyeong squints at him. “I don’t think sunbae is gonna be out by today. He only entered the dungeon yesterday.”
He passes her the manual, and she stops to squint at him again, all up in his personal space (two meters away from him). “Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?”
Choi shrugs cheekily. It comes out rougher than intended. “What can I say? The couch is nicer than my bed.”
She stares at him for a few more moments before deciding she doesn’t care enough. “Alright, well, if sunbaes catch you, don’t tell them I was here.”
Choi waves her out of the room. His head drops as soon as the door clicks shut, limbs melting into the couch as a deep sigh escapes him.
These days, rest was fleeting. Between an influx of dungeon breaks and cleaning up previous ones, the Dungeon Management Bureau had their hands full with such limited agents. Add Ho Yuwon’s Segwang Exploration Project– a series of field trips investigating and clearing illegally purchased, vaguely connected dungeons with a ragtag team of agents and employees– to the mix, and you get one esper with very unstable energy.
It wasn’t yet enough to push him into a berserk state and send him on a rampage, but it was dangerous enough that he (the most hardworking and loyal employee!) was advised to stay home for at least a week doing absolutely nothing. With his guide out of commission, and having too low of compatibility with the remaining Bureau-mandated guides to attempt guidance, he was given a stabilizer bracelet and no choice but to comply.
Ah, if only Grapes wasn’t so hellbent on completing that project. Kim Soleum was seemingly willing to go through hell and back to find the truth behind the Segwang Dungeon Break all those years ago, something that that damned Ho Yuwon was all too happy to exploit.
Sighing, Choi reaches for a beer from the plastic bag at his feet, can still damp with condensation. Of course, that’s when Jaekwan comes in.
“Agent,” His usual stoicism is replaced with traces of exhaustion weighing on his face. “Are you drinking before a mission?”
“I’m not waiting to get called in,” Choi pops open the lid. “Just waiting for you~”
“You’re skipping paperwork,” Jaekwan concludes, crossing the room in quick strides. “No drinking on the job.”
Choi hides the can behind his back before Jaekwan can snatch it away, or worse, throw it at him. He stops in his tracks, scowling. There’s no way they’re getting spills on the good couch.
“I’m on leave, actually.” Choi informs, smiling wanly up at his junior. “I’m not meant to work at all!”
Jaekwan frowns at that, staring at him for a few moments. Choi taking a day off was incredibly random, when at this busy point he would be stuck in the waiting room working himself near death. It must come off as suspicious. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, or relief that Choi was “finally” taking a break (as if Jaekwan himself wasn’t an incorrigible workaholic), he moves away with a sigh.
Choi relaxes, nursing his beer as Jaekwan settles at his desk. “Why are you here, then?”
“Oh, can’t your sunbae be worried about you?” Choi sighs dramatically. “My dear hoobae has been running himself ragged with dungeon after dungeon. Can’t I check on him?”
“If you really are on leave, then you should be spending that time resting.”
“How could I rest when my hoobae was still in the dungeon?”
“It’s finished,” Jaekwan says sourly. “You can go home.”
“This couch is more comfortable~”
Squiiissssshhhhhhhhhh–
“What is that?” Jaekwan stands up abruptly, gun appearing in his hand. Choi remains on the couch, slipping his buzzing phone out of his pocket.
“Oh, Grapesie’s calling!”
Squiiiisssshhhhhhhh!
Jaekwan lowers the gun. “…Is that your ringtone?” His face scrunches in bewilderment.
“Yep! It’s the sound of grapes being pressed. Sounds satisfying, right?”
“…”
Choi answers the phone. “What’s up, Grapes?~”
“Hey, Agent… Have I called at a bad time?”
“Hm? Not at all! Me and Bronze are just taking a break together.”
“A break, huh…”
He trails off into awkward silence. Choi and Jaekwan exchange looks.
“Do you need us for something?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
His voice grows apologetic. “We discovered a dungeon that’s on the verge of a break. Director Ho believes it’s connected to Segwang in some way… But either way, it’s best to deal with it. Are you free to join us?”
“Why, of course!” Choi gets up and starts digging for his spare uniform and tools in the closet. “Jaekwan’s not back from his dungeon, though, so it’ll be just–”
The phone is snatched out of his hand. “We’ll be there.” Jaekwan speaks gruffly. “Wait for us.” He hangs up, crosses his arms. Glares at him.
Choi smiles, feeling his eye twitch. “Guess we’ll both be skipping break.”
The Fox Counseling Room is its usual state of false serenity suspended in an endless daylight. Few people are seated– Soleum is there, speaking in low tones with Eun Haje. Lee Jaheon sits like a solid wall next to them, unblinking.
Of course, the counselor with an ever-present smirk lingers near them, eyes sliding to the new entrance. He claps his hands together upon spotting them, the crisp sound echoing in the space and causing all other noise to halt, from the conversation to the faint chirping of birds, leaving the office eerily silent.
“It seems like everyone is here! Shall we get going?” He’s as cheerful as ever, that manic energy pulsing faintly in his eyes, impatience clear to all.
Eun Haje stands, stretching her arms above her head. “Well, I’ve been ready for a while.” She groans. “Let’s get this over with. I’m already kicking for dinner.”
“We must clear the dungeon as quickly as possible,” Lee Jaheon agrees. Soleum swiftly walks over to the two agents.
“I’ll fill you in when we get there,” he whispers, shooting them both looks. He clearly isn’t in the mood for Choi picking a fight with the director; luckily for him, Choi isn’t in the mood either.
The director opens up the entrance to the dungeon, disappearing inside first, and the rest of the team follow swiftly. As Eun Haje sweeps past, her right hand brushes Choi’s own.
Sparks fly between their skin, the brief moment of friction sending jolts that paralyze his wrist for but a second. He flinches, an involuntary action she mirrors, gripping her hand with a low hiss. Right. The volatile reaction displayed their low compatibility, but she was a guide all the same.
“Fuck, why do you have so much energy?” Her brows furrow, giving him an assessing stare. “Are you unguided or something?”
He gives her a smile, moving his hand just enough that she couldn’t see his twitching fingers behind his back. “Just been pent up. There’s been a bunch of dungeon breaks recently– Hyunmu just can’t catch a break!”
His spirited complaint seems to convince her, giving him one last scrutinizing stare. “Better get that checked. Hope you’re not gonna rampage on us.” She disappears into the portal.
When he comes in, Jaekwan defaults to walking by him, Soleum following. “You two took a moment to come in,” he murmurs. “Did something happen?”
“Oh, Miss Civilian forgot something,” Choi dismisses, smiling at them. Jaekwan frowns. “Anyway, fill us in, yeah? Like, how soon is this dungeon going to break?”
Soleum casts a glance between the two of them, hesitating, before he talks.
It becomes clear several hours into this that exhaustion is catching up to him.
More than exhaustion, it’s the feeling of ember crawling deep into his flesh, tickling the veins and vessels with rabid ends and pulsing chest. It scratches its way up his skin, brushing intermittent sparks that have his hand rigid on the grip of the jakdu, wrist losing fluidity.
He slices through a beast’s neck with wild precision, never missing his mark– but perhaps too wild. As he follows it up with a flaming fist shoved into the scaly throat, the hand holding the jakdu shudders with jolts of electricity, reflexively forcing his fingers open and dropping the blade with a clang.
The beast flops dead with a great heave of sputtering fluid. His jakdu clatters on the ground.
He picks it up. Nothing happens.
“Eugh, this weird liquid is all sticky,” Eun Haje complains, inspecting her hands with a grimace. “Hey, Chief, can I get some water?”
“No.”
“Come on, just a little bit!”
“No.” Lee Jaheon pauses. “Water must be rationed, in case of emergency.”
“I’m not planning to pour it all out, you know…”
Their voices fade into the background. Choi attempts to straighten himself out to normal: standing relaxedly, a neutral face with the hint of a smile–
“Agent.”
–He looks up, already smiling. Jaekwan stands before him, face cast with metaphorical shadows. His frown is deep, cutting into the lines of his cheek, and his expression weighs heavy and exhausted.
Still, rather stern.
Oh, damn.
“We need to talk.” The words are spoken quietly, yet somehow manage to catch wind. Soleum glances at them, concern tugging at his brow. Next to him, the director stares at them, smiling, but with eyes devoid of emotion.
“Hm?” Choi’s voice stays light and calm, deceptively even. “What about? If it’s about the paperwork, can it wait?”
Jaekwan didn’t touch him before they came here. There’s no reason for him to do it now, yet Choi sidesteps the hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
“…Agent. I need a moment.” Jaekwan pins him with his eyes as he strides to a corner, one that blocks their sight and sound of the others and vice versa.
Choi looks back. The others stare.
With a sigh, he follows.
The energy underneath his skin was unstable to the point that they overflowed in his fingers and ran dry in his veins, reacting volatile the moment he got too close with another esper or guide. It’s the same now, tracking faint lines of tingles up and down his pathways as he follows Jaekwan to inevitability.
Tucked away into the corner, leaning away from each other just far enough not to induce sparks, Jaekwan hisses,
“You still haven’t received guidance?”
“I didn’t have time,” he immediately defends, “We’ve been to the waiting room three times this week already. And I keep getting held up, remember?”
Jaekwan squints at him, mouth thinning in that way it did when he thought Choi was being annoyingly stupid. Which, hey. “You should’ve made time. Just because you don’t overexert your power doesn’t mean it’s safe to keep your energy levels unchecked!”
“My energy levels aren’t unchecked,” Choi rolls his eyes. He resists the urge to scratch his neck, wishing Jaekwan would just let him off already. “I had them checked before I went home yesterday.”
“You went for a check-up and you cleared yourself for a dungeon like this?” Jaekwan says incredulously. His eyes narrow, as if realizing something. “…They put you on leave, didn’t they? You weren’t using your sick days.”
“My results came out perfectly fine. I went on leave on my own.” He grins at him, purposefully too-bright in the way that he knew Jaekwan found offputting. “I was only given a stabilizer bracelet in case anything happened.”
Jaekwan snatches his wrist, tugging up the sleeve to reveal a stabilizer bracelet unsteadily blinking yellow. He twists the bracelet around until he can find the numbers etched on the back. 57%.
The bracelet was halfway to breaking.
“Agent,” his voice was quieter, but no less stony. His eyes meet Choi’s, calm ocean blue staring him down. “You will seek guidance from one of our group.”
Choi yanks his wrist from Jaekwan’s hold, feeling sparks slide against their skin from the contact. He watches Jaekwan’s hand flinch away, instinctively recoiling from the threat of a burn.
“It’s too bad that we don’t have a compatible guide, then.”
“Agent.” There it was, that stern, reprimanding tone that he really shouldn’t be using on a superior (this rule is applicable to any workplace but the Bureau). Choi toys with the thought of pulling the senior card, or perhaps even the team leader card, but tosses it aside. “There is a compatible guide–”
“No.” Choi cuts him off. Jaekwan’s brow furrows, and his fingers twitch by his side. He backs away before Jaekwan can think of reaching for him again. “Bronze. There isn’t a compatible guide with us right now.”
Jaekwan’s lips purse together. “Stop being stubborn–”
“He’s not a real guide, Bronze. He’s just mimicking one.” Being a natural resource, psychic energy flowed through every aspect of life (and in some cases, death), affecting even unaligned humans, entities, and Disasters. Supernatural entities with high intelligence could learn how to wield energy, as if they were an esper or guide– spiritual roles limited to humans.
Jaekwan hesitates, but Choi watches in real time as he chooses his concern over his dislike. “There is no other option–”
“I am not,” Choi snaps, the energy in him pulsing to life with the loosened grip on his irritation. “Letting that director guide me.”
It converges in his chest a bit too quickly to be called deliberate; he couldn’t call it heartburn even if he wanted to. The wince must show on his face, because Jaekwan doesn’t try to touch him this time.
“Sunbae,” he says. “It’s either you do the right thing, or risk causing harm.”
His lips pull back before he realizes he’s doing it, baring teeth (at Jaekwan.) He pushes it down and replaces the snarl with a smile. It’s his usual, but it feels heavy on his face.
“Jaekwan-ah,” he forces his tone to something even, neutral. Safe. “I’m more than capable of controlling myself.”
“In this situation–”
“Have I ever let you down before, hm?” He looks him in the eyes, steady. “Have I ever lost control?” He softens his tone, ever so slightly. “Jaekwan. I know you’re worried. But trust in your sunbae, okay?”
By instinct, he goes to place a hand on Jaekwan’s shoulder– the dark flame bursting from his fingertips stops him before he can even touch.
He yanks his hand away, a gasp caught in his throat. Staring wide-eyed at the flame as it burrows into his skin, the familiar burn transforming into a wicked sword slicing past his vessels. He doubles over with a scream, feeling the white-hot pain warp into his flesh and pierce through the delicate bones in his fingers. Frozen in agony, they couldn’t even twitch, just trembling along with the rest of his arm.
“Sunbae!”
Choi is all too aware of Jaekwan’s presence as he closes the minimal distance between them, and he pushes himself away on stumbling feet before his junior could hover his hands over him. Grimacing at the feeling of the energy that almost touched him.
“Don’t–” he gasps, gripping his wrist as he rubs his fingers over his veins and tries to alleviate some of the pressure. The heat of the flame washes over his face, too hot to be called warmth. Yet, the sweat doesn’t come. Pyrokinetics always sweat. So why–? “Touch me, don’t–”
It takes a few minutes for the pain to let up, energy back to flowing through his pathways the way they should, leaving him with a twitching hand and sparks flickering on his fingertips. Tingles still run through his joints, and don’t soften into nothingness no matter how many moments pass.
Shakily, he flips the bracelet over, showing the back, blinking a dark orange.
24%.
Before his eyes, it ticks down to 23, 22…
He raises his head, meeting Jaekwan’s eyes.
“…Let’s get you to the Director.”
This time, Choi doesn’t protest.
Getting guided in the middle of a dungeon is practically a death sentence. He tells everyone as such.
“Walking around with an unguided esper is practically a death sentence,” Ho Yuwon corrects, that irritable smile crawling up his face. “And my, are you a fool to believe that it’s the lesser evil.”
Choi gives him a smile of his own, baring all his teeth. He takes pleasure in the stretch of his mouth, the simple motion releasing miniscule tension as he stares down the most annoying person in the group. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to return his own remark, as a frustratingly reasonable junior interrupts.
“Agent… We can’t proceed when an esper is near-berserk. The sooner you get guided, the sooner we can leave this place.” Soleum says in the firmest apologetic tone possible, his usual quiet gentility pressing harder than usual. And then, quietly, as if not entirely wanting to be heard, “…And the sooner we can all forget about this.”
Grapes, how can we forget something that hasn’t happened yet?
Choi hates the thought of having to do this. He can’t believe they’re throwing him to the wolves (a literal unidentified spiritual beast). He can’t believe they’re making him get guidance from a fake guide who has never fucking guided anyone.
“Agreed.”
Perhaps the most logical of them all, and possibly the most logical in all of humanity, Lee Jaheon adds, “We will guard the door.”
The door that he’s referring to, of course, is the door to the safe room that was miraculously found in a dungeon with an estimated 3% chance of safe room generation. The thought of people listening to his guidance makes him bristle.
“That won’t be necessary, won’t it?” Ho Yuwon’s slimy smile is redirected to the squad leader. “It’s a safe room, after all. There is no reason to guard it so closely when there is no party here other than us.”
“Right, you don’t have to be so cautious,” Choi finds himself backing the director up (what a thought), knowing distantly that he was backed into a corner. “You should focus more on keeping yourselves safe!”
“Which is exactly why the two of you should get in there and start already,” Eun Haje cuts in. “Have your little fuckfight– or whatever, just get it over with so we can all have peace.”
Choi feels a little betrayed. If not Jaekwan, then she of all people should understand why he doesn’t want to go through with this in the first place. So what if the unknown dungeon is filled with unknown variables? Let him die at the clutches of an undocumented monster before he suffers at the clutches of a should-be-imprisoned-but-walks-free creature.
“Agent,” Jaekwan begins, and Choi sighs.
“Fine, fine, you rascals.”
He looks at Ho Yuwon, still with that smile stuck on his face, looking pleasant and unbothered. And he might as well be, if only Choi knew how to read him– whether he was also dreading it or jumping at the chance to have some one-on-one time with his favorite people in the world to antagonize.
“Would you like to do the honors?” He steps aside and makes a half-hearted flourish to the door with his hand, more out of spite than genuine sarcasm.
Ho Yuwon’s grin sharpens. “Why, it would be my pleasure.”
God, Choi thinks darkly, let my fists be perfectly compatible with his face.
Choi didn’t give Ho Yuwon a chance to spout his bullshit. Judging by how he was wheezing for breath three minutes in, it worked.
Choi’s fist making contact with his ribs was the main contributor to his doubled-over state. And the broken state of his nose (if he even actually breathes through his nose).
“Would you look at that! I feel better already.” Choi rubs his knuckles, shaking off the electric shock that came with touching a guide while needing guidance.
Ho Yuwon sneers, clutching his stomach like he needs the bathroom. Red sluggishly drips from his nose, too bright to be called human blood. “Don’t you have to take your clothes off for that?”
“I’m perfectly exposed right now.” His hands are bare, that is.
“So you want me to touch your face? How gentle.” He reaches out, teasingly slow.
Choi catches the hand darting for his neck and pulls the fucker’s wrist until he’s doubled over, howling through painful laughter.
“Fine,” he hisses, not in defeat– he’s never admitting defeat to this creature– “Take yours off first.” If he’s to bare his vulnerability, he’ll drag him down to his level. His other hand wraps around that stupid orange necktie and crumples it in a tight grasp with the force of his pulling, enough to tug the bastard a little forward.
Ho Yuwon’s grin is less teeth apropos to a smile, closer to a snarl that matches the expression Choi knows is on his own face. “Take what off? I’m afraid you’ll have to be clearer than that, Agent-nim, if you want a fruitful partnership–”
He attempts to rip himself from Choi’s grasp when his coat catches fire and quickly spreads, rapidly patting himself with his free hand. It’s more of a reflex than a genuine reaction to danger, and he understands. Organic beings tend to have the same feelings about fire.
Graciously, Choi divests him of his coat and vest, which in turn tears the rest of the clothes off his upper body. He tosses them to the ground with a stomp to put the fire out and spits for good measure.
Ho Yuwon is left standing half-naked and a little singed, his wrist still caught in Choi’s grip. It’s turning an ugly shade of purple.
“How bold of you.” Ho Yuwon drawls in his stupid drawl. Foxes and their fucking need for noises that drag. “You can’t afford to be a little patient?”
“Weren’t you on my case about walking around unguided?” Choi retorts, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of the bastard’s inner wrist. It gives under the pressure like a rotting fruit softened under the sun, and he finds himself distracted by the ugly wound. At his mercy was someone that could ruin him.
There is only a slight strain to his voice when Ho Yuwon says, “Oh, but don’t you feel better already?” The creature’s fingertips twitch in an imitation of helplessness. Choi’s pathways suddenly go cold, then hot, mint burning under his skin.
Ho Yuwon is manipulating his fucking energy. He takes it back. Ho Yuwon probably practices guiding his unsuspecting “clients” in that counseling office of his.
He clenches his fists tight, hand clamped tight around the creature’s wrist, in an attempt to stop the manipulation. When it doesn’t work, he draws a loose fist back and backhands him hard.
Ho Yuwon takes it with little grace, tumbling to his back and bringing Choi down with him. Spitefully, he drops his elbow down hard into Ho Yuwon’s ribcage, savoring the wheeze that comes out.
Choi throws a punch, resulting in a satisfying crack. When his fist lifts up again, it’s smeared with blood, and he gets a glimpse of a bruised nose. Ho Yuwon opens his mouth, trying to say something, stopped by another punch. It gets caught in too-sharp teeth, and Choi has to let up on the heavy hitting in favor of smacking his face until his canines break away from where they’ve lodged into his fist.
The blood trickles, pooling into the hollows of his collarbone, dark red stark against pale skin. Ho Yuwon spits his fist out with a sneer, eyes glowing untouched amidst blood and bruises. “Such a brute. Isn’t an esper supposed to show respect and consideration towards their guide?”
“You’ve got it wrong.” Choi wipes his blood on Ho Yuwon’s shoulder. He didn’t look too bad in red. “It’s the other way around.”
“Aren’t I showing enough consideration?”
A hand brushes against his waist, fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps. Choi’s back straightens on reflex, and he bites down a shiver. Touching wasn’t quite the same as being touched, and it shows through the heat flushing his skin and curling restlessly within him as Ho Yuwon strokes his hip with vile gentleness.
“Hm? How much more are you planning on taking from me?”
Both hands circle his waist, slipping under his shirt. Smooth fingers slide against scarred skin, velvet touch an electric friction sending lightning bolts into his core. He curls into himself, gasping for air, just from that. Just from that.
The ache that has been perpetually squeezing his brain for the past several days clears, ever so slightly, as his breaths pick up. The miniscule energy pumped into his pathways is a source of stabilization, yet the soothing regularity doesn't match the uneven breathing he can’t control.
His hands tremble, grasping for purchase on a bare chest slippery with blood, his nails clawing into skin as an anchor. When his eyes refocus, the creature beneath him is a mess of blood and mild gore, more red than white. That wretched grin is still on his face.
The friction between them buzzes incessantly, creeping into his flesh and pushing closer to a drop he desperately pushes away from, perpetually on the edge of falling. It’s purposeful, deliberate. He musters a glare– the ache worsens between his brows.
“Just, shut up–” he gasps in between breaths. “–and do your job… properly.”
The dizziness– the days of ignoring his condition, taking temporary measure after temporary measure to postpone the inevitable, pushing down the mental exhaustion and holding it back even as it caught up– overwhelms him. Even when his vision starts to blur, that small flash of teeth masquerading as a grin is seared into his eyes.
And this bastard– is still not making it easy for him.
“An esper must listen to their guide when it comes to their own health and well-being.”
Underneath his shaking hands, that voice, dipped low yet so clear that it was almost echoing in his ears, rumbled like a purr.
“Are you allowing me to handle you?”
Ho Yuwon’s hands trail up his sides, agonizingly slow, and yet, it was too fast, like heading to a destination you’re not sure you want to arrive at. Each tingling shock took his mind further and further away from the exhaustion, slipping dangerously close off the edge to something unfathomable.
“…Like a good guide should?”
Without realizing it, Choi’s head had dipped low enough to hover above Ho Yuwon’s face. Close enough for his voice to be a whisper by his ear, breath breezing past…
“Then, give yourself up,”
“Fully…”
“…To me.”
He can only imagine Ho Yuwon’s grin growing ever wider.
“I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Slowly, his body lowers; knees pressed against thin hips, breath brushing bloodstained collarbones. The tension seeps from him jaggedly, eyes squeezing shut, as though his hands slip from their desperate grasp on icy rocks, growing ever closer to the jaws of a monster. The monster’s breath grazes his ear, moist heat spreading down his neck where it tingles in his scar. He almost flinches, but it’s too late.
As he gives in, Ho Yuwon’s eyes light up with anticipation, glowing inhumanely bright. His grin grows sharper, and the fingers that gently stroke the hidden skin twitch and break into claws.
The human dangles right above the monster’s mouth, brushing against snapping teeth.
“…Like hell.”
Choi’s open hands fly to the creature’s neck, yanking him up to slam their heads together.
While Ho Yuwon groans, their mouths find each other, replacing deep growls and pained noises with the wet smacking of lips and teeth. Lightning and flame pour without restraint, dipping liquid fire onto a flicking tongue and scraping shocks into chapped lips.
When Choi pulls away for breath, Ho Yuwon dives for his neck, canines snapping at scarred skin. He flinches away on reflex, shoving himself off of the guide– when he looks back, there is barely a person before him.
Standing there is a monster whose facade has fallen away to reveal the piercing glow of too-bright eyes and unnaturally wide smile, crawling towards him at an attempt of allure.
His hands reach back and crawl away from him.
Choi can call it instinct all he wants– can call the slow, stuttered movement an attempt of escape while recovering from unleashed inhibitions and the clash with euphoria, call the unwavering gaze on that monster a keen eye on his enemy, call it everything but the truth. But the shocks dancing on his skin, burrowing its way into his veins and overloading his fire, can’t be anything but what it is.
Want crawls up his spine like a sickness that chips at his flesh.
The creature reaches out, claws flexing in the brief descent before flesh touches flesh.
Choi lunges first.
Choi was a reasonable person. Reason dictates that he has to receive guidance, regardless of his relationship with the guide. Reason also dictates that he must stand his guard against a Daydream executive who was most definitely not fully human.
–Reason leads to his hands wrapped around his guide’s throat, using it as a handle to press and push as he pleases. Thumb pressed up against the bobbing adam’s apple, lips bumping and dragging over the face. His mouth leaves hot trails of spit, and Ho Yuwon thrashes.
It’s only when his energy starts flowing the wrong way does Choi groan and pull back, twitching from the overload. They don’t stay apart for long– claws push into his sides, ripping his shirt to shreds and leaving long burns across his abdomen, handling his waist and snaking around his hips–
“Keep your paws off down there.” Choi catches the hand darting for the slip, prying it from his waistband. He gets a crushed finger in return, electric shocks dancing until his whimper gets lodged in between euphoria and his teeth.
“How are we supposed to get this done if you refuse to go the fastest route?” Ho Yuwon shoots back. His face was soaked with more saliva than sweat, smeared blood and bruises barely hiding the flush rising high in his cheeks and the eerie glow of his eyes. “Time and time again, you Bureau agents refuse efficiency in favor of clinging to stubbornness, hm?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about.” Choi spits. Supernatural weight holds him down, weighing on his body until his muscles ache with the effort to push back against it, to prevent it from crushing him. “You’re delusional if you think– urgh– I’d let you go that far!”
All subtlety and careful wordcraft flies out of his grasp as he gasps for air. Even the painful suffocation that left him with little to breathe spread shocking relief through his chest, pumping into him like a sedative forced into his neck. The fire searing his veins numb opened itself to air that only fanned the flames, but whisked the pain away.
“You–” Choi chokes on a groan, pain flashing sharply in his stomach. Claws pull away drenched in blood. “–have it your way.”
The weight eases. He slumps to the ground, the relief of unimpeded air flooding through him, yet he doesn’t, can’t relax– not when he can only taste blood and smoke and feel nothing at all.
False peace never lasts long. He has only taken two breaths when the weight returns, bearing down on him heavier than ever. The empty reprieve is broken in place of a fullness that is too much, and yet too little.
Hands force his legs apart, the space between filled by Ho Yuwon’s own weight. Shoving his body gracelessly against his oh-so-beloathed agent, until they’re slotted together like misplaced puzzle pieces forced to fit, arms shoved in the wrong places and knees bumping into thighs and hip pressed to hip.
Choi is pinned to the floor, trapped beneath a monster whose every touch set his body straight and drove his mind crazy, pushed and pulled and clawed and laved at and enduring every form of violation in the book, and yet–
When Ho Yuwon’s tongue finds his collarbone, lapping electric shocks dangerously close to No not there get away, he arches his back and lets out sounds that he would rather die than admit was him was that really him? Their hips press tightly up against the other, heat meeting heat.
Something in his stomach tightens while the rest of his body is drenched in blissful pain, pathways stretching straight with the overflowing energy steadily consumed in the overload. There has never been a time where pain and pleasure embraced each other like lovers, but in this moment, Choi gets what opposites attract really means.
Words are lost when your mouths find each other every few seconds, biting until the other bled and their blood spilled into your mouth and yours spilled into theirs. For once, he can’t find a snark to toss out or an opening to tear into, nose-deep in ecstasy that threatens to devour him whole; stubbornly clinging to the edge, the icy rocks piercing his palms as the rest of him is swallowed into an unknowable chasm.
Tingling wrecks and wracks his chest, soreness pressing into his lungs like stone weights, forcing all his breath out in a single wheeze. Ho Yuwon’s elbow shoves against his ribcage, an unnecessary restraint. His upper body attempts to lurch and curve around it, craving more of his touch– pinned as he was, he can’t do anything but want.
The only thoughts that remain in his head are woven with sickly desire. Everything else is a mess of heat and aching, throbbing like a drum beat accompanying the lyrics.
I want it.
All of it.
Ho Yuwon grinds down on him, uneven pants leaving his lips. Choi tries to push against him, clumsily creating friction. For his efforts, he’s shoved down hard enough that his skull slams against the ground.
An incoherent noise sounds from the bastard’s throat. “Why can’t you just stay– still! You little–”
Ho Yuwon’s elbow lifts from Choi’s chest. In the brief moment where his eyes narrow, contemplating what bone to break, Choi grabs his waist, pulls him down in the same second he pushes his hips up, and rolls.
Agony and euphoria course through him in waves. His nerves fry with the shock slamming into him by the yank of his head at Ho Yuwon’s hand, excess spilling through his skin. The tide of energy whites out his vision, completely overwhelming every nerve in his body; from his pathways where roughly stabilized energy goes haywire, to his veins where blood flows, replacing plasma with electricity.
Distantly, he hears himself moan as the hand slides to his face, touch abating the pain pounding in his head.
His cheek nuzzles into the smooth palm. Bliss puppets his every move– when the friction stops, his whine is more of a snarl, spit dripping from lips. His eyes peel open and look up at the guide.
Ho Yuwon stares down at him, expression made unreadable through the blur in his vision. Was it tears, or a symptom of being on the brink of insanity?
A thumb roughly swipes at his eye, pressing until the wetness flowed out on its own. Physiological tears fall, granting him brief glimpses of the guide’s face. There is only one thing that can be read.
I’ll allow it.
The energy that stuttered and spilled between them– a result of the guide’s agitation and excess reserves– slowly evens out into a flow, tickling him, caressing the painful parts. It’s light and airy and almost gentle, a complete contrast from the push and pull of moments ago.
Ho Yuwon’s claws flex as he visibly forces himself to relax, the stable flow of energy between them serving to loosen some of his tension. He sighs against Choi’s neck, and it’s only the bone-numbing bliss that keeps him from jerking away.
The friction resumes. A tongue teases the sensitive skin above his collarbone, drifting to his shoulder. Teeth scrape and sting, and he’s torn between pulling away and risking his neck in an even more vulnerable display or enduring it, waiting and flinching as lips grow ever closer.
Gasps are punched out of him with every roll of Ho Yuwon’s hips. Their hardness brushes against each other in rough strokes that have him keening, clutching the guide’s waist tighter.
Their skin sticks together, sweat sliding like oil. This close, he can smell the traces that make up Ho Yuwon. Sharp sweat tinged with something poisonous and sour, lingering cologne, and a scent that was flat and clean and almost too normal; at times flaring up rotten and sweet, giving away his status as an entity.
He breathes a little harder. More precisely, he breathes in.
Of all the things, that’s what finally sends him over the edge.
The heat tightening in his stomach bursts loose. He goes lightheaded, vision rapidly blurring and then whiting out completely, a ringing in his ears replacing all other sound; suspended from his own body, his own mind, he loses grip of himself entirely.
He can’t react at all, not even a twitch he could manage on his own, his body moving and dying and stilling by itself. The tingling in his arms intensifies, injecting static shock into his blood until his limbs go numb, spreading until he can’t even squirm involuntarily.
He’s almost far gone, just a step away from floating into the endless depths.
It’s in that state that Ho Yuwon’s lips move to his neck.
…Ah.
…Somehow, he forgot.
…That the “depths” he was losing himself to…
…was a monster’s belly.
Even with his entire body awash in numbness, he clearly and vividly feels the lips moving against his scar, mouthing inaudibly.
Good job.
Sharpness stabs into his neck. Blooming through his throat.
With the remnants of his consciousness, he falls away.
In a hospital room dappled with sunlight.
Jaekwan sits by the bed, carefully peeling apples. On the bedside table, a large dish has apple slices delicately piled up, packed together tightly. Several slices have browned.
The patient in the bed wakes up.
“…Agent.”
Jaekwan straightens, hands pausing as he assumes a militaristic position. Yet, despite the stiffness, a trace of exhaustion, and nervousness, is visible on his tense face.
The patient, with his eyes barely opened, opens his mouth.
“….Ack.”
A dry sound comes out. His hand sluggishly rises to touch his neck, gently poking with barely any feeling translating to the skin. His fingers brush bandages, wrapped around his neck to fully cover a large scar.
He moves his head slightly. Something stings.
Jaekwan helps Choi sit up, propping him up against some pillows before grabbing a glass of water. He wraps Choi’s hand around the cup, the stiff fingers unable to fully close, and slowly guides it to his lips.
After Choi has his fill, Jaekwan takes the cup away and replaces it with a notepad and pen. Choi stares at it wearily before gripping the pen as firmly as possible with his shaking hand, scribbling on the notepad with some difficulty.
Fortunately, he was used to this situation, and fortunately, so was Jaekwan. He picks up the notepad and reads the chicken scratch without batting an eye.
dungeon?
“The dungeon was cleared with no anomaly. You fell into a comatose state after receiving… guidance. The medics believe it’s because you hadn’t been guided in a long while, or even been touched by a guide for a brief pass, and then receiving guidance after nearing a berserk state…”
Jaekwan hesitates, clearly pained. “…And the guidance you received was… from a supernatural entity, so.”
If Choi could speak, he would say something like, So?
As it was, he gave Jaekwan a look that conveyed exactly that.
Jaekwan sighs. “…So the guidance was particularly intense, even without penetration.”
never touching an entity guide again
When Jaekwan received the notepad, the edges were slightly singed. His energy levels were stable, so it was definitely on purpose.
While Choi was clearly feeling petty, the statement itself was mild; especially considering how outright aggressive he had been about receiving guidance from a fake guide. Though, it might have been due to his nearing a berserk state, causing him to act in ways he normally wouldn’t.
Seeing Choi had returned to his normal, seemingly joking but secretly (obviously) serious self, Jaekwan relaxes a little. Then, tenses up again.
….Did he really have to be the one to break the news?
Thinking of how even Kim Soleum had chosen to return to the Fox Counseling Room rather than accompany them back to the Bureau made a slight sense of betrayal well up.
“…About that.”
“….?”
Choi stares at him with curiosity… and a dread slowly mounting in his stomach.
Looking like he’s swallowing rocks, Jaekwan simply hands over an envelope, the wax seal already broken.
Choi gazes at the envelope. It was plain but quality paper, and the seal was an orange that reminds him of autumn leaves… or a fox blending in with the autumnal backdrop.
Jaekwan starts talking, as if rushing to get the words out before Choi reacts. “When your energy levels were checked, they noticed that it was more stable than it had ever been since you joined the Bureau. Though you feel bad now, according to the results, you’ll feel very well after recovery…”
He pulls out a letter. No, a note.
“The medics… decided to establish a contract off the books. In exchange for discreet access to the archives, provided no damages are done, they can call on the Director for particularly bad cases…”
In elegant handwriting, with playful looping letters, the note read:
Come see me on the first Friday of every month! Whole day leave is paid ^^
Choi looks up, meeting Jaekwan’s helpless eyes.
The notepad bursts into flames.