* * *
Hot.
The instant Ben’s hand touched him, he was met with overwhelming heat.
His skin was burning, like someone with a high fever.
Ben traced along Haimar’s neck and forehead—everywhere he touched radiated heat.
His cheeks were flushed a deep red.
Hot?
Haimar Eilec—hot?
Even as his hands moved, disbelief filled his mind.
Ben’s body temperature was higher than most people’s to begin with, but this… this was excessive.
Haimar was always colder than him—ice-cold, really.
But now, the opposite was true.
And when Ben’s hand brushed past Haimar’s ear, a sharp, stinging sensation like static electricity jolted him.
I-It’s broken. What the hell—! What happened?!
Startled by the pain, Ben’s hand instinctively found his communication device, now half-destroyed.
Just what had happened to damage it like this?
It was obvious the device wasn’t functioning properly anymore.
And then, creeping relentlessly up his fingertips, came a strange, indescribable force, as though demanding him, consuming him.
Where… where do I even start fixing this?
This was all because he’d arrived late.
If only he’d gotten here sooner, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
He never should’ve told Haimar to wait.
No matter what, meeting first would’ve been better.
But while Ben panicked, lost in his thoughts, Haimar quietly pulled his hand down from his ear, and as if it were second nature, pressed his lips gently to Ben’s palm.
As though breathing in his scent deeply, Haimar’s hand that wrapped around Ben’s hand brushed along Ben’s sharp nose and covered his lips, passing on a feverish heat.
Ben couldn’t bring himself to pull away, even though his hands were filthy with dust.
Wide-eyed, he could only watch as Haimar, face buried in his palm, whispered softly.
“You should praise me, Ben.”
“…What?”
Wha… What? For waiting so patiently? For being good?
He couldn’t voice it aloud, but the warmth of Haimar’s breath tickling his palm made Ben shrink back a little.
At that, Haimar guided Ben’s hand to his cheek like he was a puppet, nestling his tired eyes into it.
It looked just like a languid beast, rubbing its head in affection, demanding to be spoiled.
Ben’s hand, moving without his own will, slid down Haimar’s face to his jaw.
As Haimar applied slight pressure, his lips parted.
Though it was clearly Haimar guiding the motion, from the outside it looked as if Ben was the one prying his lips open.
“Come on.”
His voice drove the wedge in deeper, making Ben swallow hard.
A predator, far too big and dangerous for a mere cat, yet all the more languid, was demanding a kiss.
He didn’t say it aloud, but between those parted lips, a flushed tongue peeked out, urging Ben on, gleaming in vivid red.
That was practically saying everything without words.
There was no way Ben could resist that call.
Haimar knew it too—he was doing this on purpose.
Ah… whatever!
At this point, the only thing Ben could do was give the answer Haimar wanted.
There were no other options.
So, without hesitation, Ben grabbed the back of his neck and pressed their lips together.
What he felt from the kiss was unending hunger.
No matter how much he poured into it, it was like trying to fill a bottomless jar.
A searing heat flooded his mouth.
Despite the snow swirling around them, his body flushed hot in an instant.
Cold—
Haimar’s tongue tangled with his aggressively.
Ben tried to keep up, but the intensity of that exploration left him breathless.
As their tongues clashed and slid together, Haimar’s sucked deeply, down to the root, making Ben’s hips jerk reflexively.
Haimar, noticing that slight movement, pressed in further, trailing a hand down Ben’s spine as though ready to devour him whole.
Ben’s body twisted at the intensifying, almost unbearable sensation.
Wait a minute.
Everything this man did too easily turned into something pleasurable.
The kiss itself wasn’t the problem, but in this situation, there was no way he could get aroused—especially not here, out in the wide open.
Embarrassment pressed down on him harder than any other concern, though, admittedly, the enemies glaring nearby weren’t helping either…
Correction.
The embarrassment was by far the biggest problem.
Haimar, enough—
He tried to speak internally, but if he opened his mouth now, his jaw would drip with spit.
One hand still trapped by Haimar, Ben tapped his shoulder with the free one, but Haimar had no intention of letting him go.
Only after thoroughly filling Ben’s small mouth with saliva and swallowing it all did he finally pull back.
“Haa…”
As Ben gasped for breath, the cold air stung sharply against his lips.
Haimar licked his damp lips, his expression still unsatisfied, crushing Ben’s hand in his grip before lifting his head to glance off into the distance.
Following his gaze, Ben turned toward the direction where the dust clouds had yet to settle.
A shadow, black as pitch, loomed like an ominous silhouette.
“Haimar Eilec… Tell me you’re not seriously saying you’ve got a Guide now. That disgusting nonsense isn’t true, is it?”
The woman emerging from the dust cloud wore an expression of naked turmoil.
Her red eyes trembled visibly, disgust etched around her furrowed brows, yet a twisted sliver of hope curled at her lips.
A strange mix of emotions.
It was the face of someone witnessing something they desperately didn’t want to believe, clinging to denial while demanding an answer.
The woman’s attack had stopped momentarily, plunging the surroundings into an eerie stillness.
Only the sound of debris falling from crumbling buildings and distant screams echoed faintly.
The fact that she’d halted her onslaught meant her shock was immense—but Haimar merely stared at her with a cold, utterly indifferent gaze, as if she wasn’t worth more than trash littering the street.
No hatred, no anger—just pure, detached apathy.
But when that gaze shifted back to Ben, his eyes sparkled, alive with something undeniable, driving a nail into the truth Roilnia didn’t want to accept.
“Let me off the leash. I’ll rip everything apart.”
“You don’t have to… rip everything…”
“You should spoil me more. This isn’t enough.”
His playful tone belied the sparks crackling from his restraints, the heat radiating off them showing there was no time left to delay.
Ben, cheeks flushed with heat, asked cautiously.
“Isn’t unlocking all three at once… impossible?”
“Just two. Even that’s too much for you, Ben.”
Ben wanted to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean—why even two was ‘too much’—but honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. H
e’d experience it soon enough, whether he knew or not.
Technically, even unlocking one was forbidden right now, but two?
Definitely illegal.
But screw it.
Taking a deep breath, Ben roughly dusted himself off and leaned close to Haimar’s ear.
To unlock the restraints, both Esper and Guide had to say a set of trigger words and release phrases they’d agreed upon beforehand.
The Esper initiates the phrase, and the Guide follows with the release code, but before all that, the Guide has to input the shutdown code.
So, Ben whispered softly into Haimar’s ear.
“Code LN-1206SY0424.”
Beep—
Responding to Ben’s voice, the restraints flaring with heat came to an abrupt halt.
“Oh my god. No way. Don’t… don’t do this. Haimar Eilec, you’ve got three restraints slapped on you—how the hell do you have a Guide? I thought that was all lies!”
The red-haired woman’s face contorted more and more as she took in the scene.
Ben hesitated for a moment, but Haimar captured her gaze with his own, lips curling faintly into a smile.
Knowing exactly what words would spill from those lips, Ben gulped.
If he’d known this would happen, he’d have fought harder when they picked those ridiculous phrases.
Too late now.
The moment they were spoken, there’d be no going back.
“The name of my leash?”
See? This is why I said don’t use crap like that—
“…Ben Plaskun.”
Snap—!
With a slight delay, Ben’s words caused the cracked restraint to split cleanly in two and fall away.
Something that had bound Haimar nearly his entire life crumbled away so easily, scattering across the ground.
Watching it, Ben’s chest tightened involuntarily.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Clenching his trembling lips, he calmly rested his hand on Haimar’s face again, waiting for the second trigger phrase to release the next restraint.
Like a slow-rewinding film, Haimar’s lips moved again.
“My God is—”
With his eyes gently closing, he looked almost divine, as though in prayer.
Momentarily bewitched, Ben couldn’t tear his gaze away from those lips parting, those words coiling in a low, devastating whisper meant for him alone—waiting only for his permission.
As if the unspoken connection between them pulsed with something beyond words, his chest trembled.
In this moment, Ben Plaskun was no longer the burdensome weight—the shadow that clung to him and endlessly cried out in annoyance.
“I will save the one I trust.”
And finally, the world fell into perfect silence.
* * *
