* * *
But no, his ability was to freeze things, so there wasn’t much he could do about Haebom’s cold.
It was the first time since becoming an Esper that he felt frustrated with his own ability.
Maybe it was because it was for Haebom—but even that frustration wasn’t unpleasant.
“…Are we sleeping in the tent tonight?”
Haebom, who had been quietly watching the firewood burn, turned to look at Wonho.
Startled by the question, Wonho flinched.
Sure, he’d set up the tent for camping, but sleeping inside it hadn’t really been part of his plan.
Or rather, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.
Still, it wasn’t really a problem.
The house was right behind them anyway.
“Yeah.”
“If it’s uncomfortable, we can sleep inside. This is good enough already.”
As if he had never hesitated, Wonho answered firmly. Haebom started to worry.
No matter how cushy the air mattress was, sleeping on the ground wasn’t exactly comfortable.
With the house just a few steps away, it could feel inconvenient to sleep in the yard.
At Haebom’s suggestion, Wonho’s eyebrow twitched.
Wonho knew well how uncomfortable sleeping on the ground could be.
Today was different—they’d prepped for camping, with a mat and sleeping bags inside the tent.
But inside the Gate, that wasn’t the case.
He usually powered through without sleeping, but if he had to stay long, he just slept wherever.
That was the life of an Esper.
The Center tried to provide supplies, but Wonho often couldn’t be bothered and went in with nothing but himself.
Other than nutrition capsules, he left everything else behind, which earned him constant scolding from Jin Seyoung.
Still, the hassle wasn’t worth it.
Sleeping in the middle of enemy territory wasn’t restful no matter how comfortable the setup was.
So really, what was there to complain about when he was lying in a tent, on a mat, with Haebom next to him?
“It’s not uncomfortable. Let’s sleep in the tent.”
Haebom glanced at Wonho at his resolute tone.
Well, if he said so.
He nodded, deciding that if it got uncomfortable in the middle of the night, he’d just take Wonho into the house.
But that was a useless promise—once he fell asleep, Haebom rarely woke up.
Wonho, unaware of Haebom’s thoughts, simply enjoyed the quiet time together.
He had even turned off his call alerts for the day.
Unless an S-rank Gate or monster appeared, he wouldn’t be summoned.
No one would complain about that, either.
Despite being one of the younger Espers, he had years of experience and was an S-rank with a workload heavier than most others.
He had earned the right to a break.
“…This is nice.”
His stomach full, he zoned out watching the fire and let the words slip out.
Then a sudden thought hit him—’What if I’m the only one enjoying this?’
Camping was Haebom’s hobby.
Though they set up the tent together, Wonho had done almost everything else.
Was he just dumping all the work on him?
He snuck a glance at Wonho.
“What?”
He’d only meant to sneak a look, but their eyes met.
Who knew how long Wonho had been watching him?
The fire made Wonho’s red eyes seem even more intense.
“You got something to say?”
“…Is it a crime to look at someone if you don’t have anything to say? Then why were you looking at me?”
“Because I like you.”
At that, Haebom bit down on his lip.
After all that running away, now Wonho was charging in like a bulldozer since he confessed.
Feeling his nape flush with heat, Haebom ducked his head.
He’d realized his feelings for Wonho a long time ago.
But the more he sensed Wonho’s feelings, the heavier his own heart became.
The words “I like you” were the same, but the weight behind them was different.
He’d wanted to go camping to lighten that heavy feeling, and yet now it felt even heavier.
A sigh nearly slipped out, but he forced it back.
If Wonho misunderstood that sigh and got hurt, that would be worse.
Haebom found himself feeling a little resentful that Wonho—who had no clue how he was feeling—could still be so kind.
While Haebom sat there, head down, lost in thought, Wonho quietly gazed at the round top of Haebom’s head.
He knew for sure Haebom didn’t dislike him.
He was fairly certain their feelings were mutual.
But there had to be a reason Haebom hadn’t responded to his confession.
He’d love to hear it straight from him, but it didn’t seem like Haebom was ready to say it.
“…Should I guide you?”
Haebom peeked up at Wonho, but as soon as their eyes met, he dropped his gaze again.
The second their eyes met, he thought he saw a spark in Wonho’s eyes at the mention of guiding.
He still couldn’t answer the confession, but there was something he could do for Wonho.
As Haebom sat there, head down again, Wonho stepped toward him, not taking his eyes off him.
Sensing Wonho drawing close, Haebom’s body twitched slightly.
“Yoon Haebom. Look at me.”
At the sound of Wonho’s voice, low and subdued, Haebom flinched again.
When he didn’t lift his head, Wonho gently called out once more, “Haebom-ah.”
Every time Wonho said his name in that tender voice, Haebom felt a sting in his eyes.
It was like something was welling up inside him—an inexplicable surge of emotion.
When he finally lifted his head a little, he saw Wonho looking down at him.
“Put your arms around me.”
Wonho bent down and, without warning, scooped Haebom up from the chair.
Startled as his body was lifted into the air, Haebom instinctively wrapped his arms around Wonho’s neck.
He buried his face into the crook of Wonho’s neck.
There was the scent of burned firewood, mixed with Wonho’s own scent.
Holding Haebom securely in his arms, Wonho carried him into the tent with heavy steps.
Haebom had said he wanted to sleep in the tent, so Wonho had turned on a small heater inside, making the space comfortably warm.
He laid Haebom down on top of a sleeping bag spread out on a mat.
Haebom involuntarily swallowed hard as he looked up at Wonho looming over him.
Then, Wonho leaned down and covered Haebom’s lips with his own.
Haebom, arms still looped around his neck, slowly released a guiding energy.
Even though they were inside a tent, doing something like this in the front yard of the house felt strangely surreal—more than he ever imagined.
A week had passed since that night camping in the yard.
Lost in thought, Haebom suddenly sat up from where he’d been lying on the sofa.
“You’ve been going into Gates a lot lately. Is something going on?”
He spoke in a sulky tone, eyes fixed on Wonho the moment he sat up.
Wonho glanced at him briefly. It hadn’t been that long, but in the past few days, Wonho had entered four Gates already—ranging from Class A to Class C—traveling to other regions just to go into them.
Other branches welcomed an S-Class Esper with open arms.
Seoul Branch didn’t say much about it.
After all, they already had another S-Class Esper stationed there, and in the past two weeks, only one Gate had opened in Seoul.
If more had appeared in Seoul, they probably wouldn’t have let Wonho act so freely.
But that wasn’t the point.
What really mattered was—why?
Why was he so obsessed with entering Gates?
It wasn’t about the berserk level; Haebom could suppress that easily enough.
But something about it still felt off.
* * *
