TGIC Ch 125

Chapter 125

Gidam stumbled backward in alarm.

If left alone, he would no doubt bolt.

Vasily seized his arm and pulled him firmly in, quelling the faint resistance with ease and settling him onto his lap.

The moment Gidam felt the unyielding hardness beneath him, he jolted and tried to rise. But Vasily’s arm—locked fast around his waist—did not budge.

“Sit still. Don’t struggle.”

“……”

“If you try to vomit like yesterday, I won’t let it slide. Keep that in mind.”

He whispered the warning against Gidam’s ear, and Gidam—face drained of color—gave a stiff, reluctant nod.

Only then did he quiet down.

Holding that trembling body close, Vasily’s lips curved in satisfaction.

The weight pressing languidly against his legs, the narrow waist and thighs settling neatly within his arms—every point of contact was guiding him steadily. Warmth seeped in from Gidam’s body, stirring an instinctive response before Vasily could even restrain it.

He buried his face in Gidam’s hair without thinking, breathing him in.

Gidam flinched violently.

Unintentional or not, Vasily could not resist the pull.

Thus, the meeting began.

Today’s session concerned the Association’s performance reports. Vasily had never cared about such affairs; the staff members kept glancing at him, surprised he had chosen to attend.

Yet the content itself held no interest for him.

What held his attention was attending the meeting with Gidam in his arms.

As time passed, Vasily’s previously composed expression gradually tightened—not out of boredom, but because of the Guide perched on his lap.

From the start, Gidam fidgeted incessantly, clearly uncomfortable. Whether unaware of what he sat upon or simply in denial, he kept brushing his backside against Vasily’s lap.

Dangerous.

Should he warn him?

Vasily looked down at Gidam, half-tempted.

Gidam, face wrinkled in frustration, fixed his eyes on the presentation screen. Clad in the clothes Vasily had chosen, held tight in his arms, he looked unexpectedly pleasing like this.

Undressing him later would be a sight as well.

He would resist at first, of course—then soon enough, breathless sighs would spill from him. He was always particularly weak to pleasure.

Ah—his thoughts had wandered too far.

Heat gathered below, swelling unmistakably. Imagining Gidam pinned and gasping beneath him had done its work.

Mid-shift, Gidam at last seemed to notice. His movements halted.

A long, cold shudder washed over him.

He raised his head sharply, eyes wide with pleading denial—but Vasily had no comfort to offer.

Desperate to feign ignorance, Gidam lifted himself lightly from Vasily’s lap. The moment Vasily felt the weight lessen, he grabbed Gidam’s waist and forced him back down.

Press.

The half-hardened length brushed against him, and Gidam’s expression collapsed.

“You’re out of your—!”

“Shh. We’re in a meeting.”

“And you expect me to sit like this?!”

“Why look at me like that? You caused this, Guide Kwon Gidam.”

“What did I do—!”

They bickered in hushed tones. Gidam looked deeply aggrieved, but with the silent room around them, he eventually clamped his mouth shut and only glared.

He practically radiated get me off you, yet he remained obediently in Vasily’s hold. Now that he sat still and wasn’t stimulating him further, Vasily felt more composed—but somehow, he also felt… dissatisfied.

“That concludes today’s meeting.”

As attendees rose, Vasily asked quietly,

“So? Did anything come back to you?”

“No. Let me go.”

“Hm…”

Clearly, it was not enough to trigger memories. He would need to try another method.

The moment Vasily released him, Gidam shot up, dusting his clothes irritably as if to wipe away the sensation, then strode off.

“Esper Vasily.”

“Later. My Guide seems upset.”

The Association chairman called out, but Vasily brushed him off. Yet in that brief moment, Gidam had disappeared.

Vasily’s face turned icy.

The moment Gidam vanished from his sight, unease flared into panic.

Did he run?

He rushed out of the room—no one there.

But at the end of the corridor, a faint presence flickered. Vasily turned—there, far ahead, Gidam walked away.

Vasily steadied the wild surge of power threatening to break loose. Relief came first; irritation followed swiftly behind.

He used his ability, and a wall of ice materialized before Gidam.

“Ugh?”

Startled, Gidam stopped short. Realizing immediately who was responsible, he turned, brows furrowing in exasperation. Vasily ignored the look and approached at a leisurely pace. Only when he reached him did he dissolve the ice.

“Is this amusing to you?”

“You’re the one who left without a word.”

“…Sigh.”

With a defeated breath, Gidam followed Vasily back to the private room. The moment they entered, he slumped onto the sofa at a distance, utterly spent from the long meeting.

Ignoring him, Vasily surveyed the space. His gaze soon caught a stack of documents on the desk—Gate deployment reports.

Scanning through them, Vasily approached Gidam and held out the papers.

“These are the Gates scheduled for clearance this week. Which one should we do first? You decide.”

Conveniently, none were high-tier Gates.

This would be a good chance to properly observe Gidam’s abilities, something he had been unable to do last time.

Gidam browsed the papers seriously, fully absorbed—so much so that he didn’t even notice Vasily sitting beside him.

After some time, he selected one document and handed it over.

“Then we’ll start with this—”

He lifted his head—and their eyes met at close range. Gidam froze.

Then, hastily, he averted his gaze. His tightly pressed lips betrayed what memory flickered back—this morning at the house.

Vasily’s hand twitched—he wanted to grab his jaw and make him look at him again. But he held back. Such force would only backfire. There was no need to give a wary Gidam further reason to avoid him.

“Let me see.”

Instead, he accepted the sheet.

Gidam had chosen an ordinary D-rank Gate. Not far from here, and the lowest ranked of the list. Nothing odd at first glance. It looked like the simplest, safest option.

What could be waiting there?

He could not trust Gidam completely. Every Gate outing had brought some unpredictable move from him. Who knew what he was planning this time.

“Then we’ll go in two days. You’ll be entering as well, so be prepared.”

“Understood.”

Gidam nodded without hesitation.

Watching him accept Gate entry as if it were natural, Vasily’s lips curved faintly.

A Guide who fought monsters beside an Esper—he still struggled to believe what he had witnessed with his own eyes.

But Gidam clearly needed to build stamina. Even if the Gate was low-ranked, collapsing from exhaustion after killing only one beast would hardly do. Vasily could not bring him along comfortably with such fragility.