...Tae-gun what are you doing. This is going to be a headache.

This time, there is a someone waiting for him once he's finished this dungeon.

Perched in the warm sunlight, wrapped in a bundle of blankets, nestled between two portable space heaters is his partner. She is sporting a hot cup of tea and a cheeky little grin.

There are a few Quasar personnel who are attempting to figure out how to fuss over her, but she mostly just showed up with all of her supplies and parked here without notice. They... don't super know what to do. They weren't expecting this. The media wasn't, either, and there hasn't been time for appropriate crowds to gather.

Tae-gun doesn't immediately manage to process what he's seeing as he slowly floats to the ground, and just blinks at her a couple of times, a nearly-blank media-friendly expression on his face.

(His backlash is... strong. Quite strong, actually, maybe stronger than it was on the day she met him. She can feel it from where she is, in the open air, and see it in the way he looks tense and high-strung.)

(See it on his face, which flashes with something very, very similar to what she saw yesterday after she touched his hand.)

The expression lasts barely a second, though, and then it's media time. Despite the strength of the accumulated backlash he manages to walk steadily towards her. "Well, I guess you won, fair and square," he says in a carrying voice.

Oh, this was so, so stupid. Her backlash is more deadly than most, and easy to overdo and then regret later. The sort of thing that seems fine, right up until she collapses in a dungeon to quietly die where no one can find her. And his backlash is already quite bad, and they're still working on helping him recover. Strenuous activity when one is in recovery is not, typically, the sort of thing that literally anyone would recommend.

But the look on his face and the taste of victory make such thoughts feel insignificant and ridiculous. They're bonding, okay. It's a very important part of esper partnerships. Also, tactically speaking, collecting this much backlash in such a short time is better for his recovery - similar levels of it between compatible partners causes speedier recovery than one who is in a bad way and one who is fine.

"Yes I did," she agrees smugly, in a similar carrying voice, to the sparsely gathered dregs of what media presence could manage to scrape themselves together in the minimum time they've been given to work in. News outlets don't tend to have much access to esper teleportation, and are instead beholden to the fickle whims of physical distance and traffic. This is a very nice thing about having done this very stupid thing.

And then he gets a teleport request to join her in her silo, because no seriously they need to handle the backlash as soon as possible.

He takes a couple of seconds after she teleports to look at a likely camera nearby and roll his eyes fondly, and then vworps.

To immediately find the farthest possible wall from her and examine it really closely.

"That was so stupid," she giggles, looking pale and exhausted and not at all sorry. "The media's going to be in such a frenzy."

Then she spots his distance from her and frowns. Uh, if he's going to be avoiding her then she should actually have teleported herself to a hospital, and honestly, she'd really rather not. "Um, still no touching is fine, but I think I might actually need you closer than that, I kind of overdid it. Sorry."

He is struck by the insane thought that maybe he should get himself some handcuffs.

"Alright," he manages to get out, without turning to look at her. "Can we sit." Because it is a tiny bit harder for him to do anything he'll regret if he's sitting down rather than standing up.

It's a tiny bit harder for her to do anything they'll both regret if she's sitting down rather than standing up, too.

"Yeah, of course," she agrees, stumbling clumsily over to the nearest couch and collapsing onto it. She manages to set her tea down on the nearby table, but very nearly spills it. "Sorry I didn't - um, there's whatever pills you take over there, I asked for them but didn't really... ask for amenities for you. Um. I should have prepped better, sorry."

"It's fine," he says, going for the pills first. Then it's—is there anywhere to sit near her that isn't the couch.

There is a second couch! It is near but companionably beside!

Good enough.

His skin has a soft sheen of sweat, but not a lot. From up close he feels hot, but not that much. He does not look like he's melting in place. He does not seem to mind the temperature in this room.

His neck is flushed and his breathing is steady and purposeful and his hands are balled into fists on his thighs.

Hye-jin meanwhile has started shivering. This might not look like an improvement, but actually, it is! Her body is having the expected physical responses to its internal temperature being colder than it should be, whereas before, it hadn't been. It hadn't had time to catch up, and wasn't compensating accordingly. This is more uncomfortable for her personally, but better for her recovery.

She has the presence of mind to sluggishly point a space heater at herself and cuddle up to several of those instant heat packs, in different locations around her body. Then she nestles under her several blankets, and shivers miserably. She's very, very tired and kind of wants to sleep.

Oh but that's miserable.

This was a terrible idea. Why did he have this idea? He should not have done this. This was terrible. And now she's suffering and it's his fault.

He had a lot of fun though that's selfish.

She had a lot of fun though enough to justify this?

He really wanted to wipe that smirk off her face why is his brain bringing this up exactly this is the opposite if an argument for this???????

She's not Kang Jaeha he needs to stop thinking that name.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs quietly.

"Oh, hush," she mumbles. "I'm not. Honestly, this was - good practice, I'm not used to dealing with this much backlash? I always had a partner. You were bad a'the partner bits, now I'm bad at... these bits."

Wow what glowing recommendation, isn't it? He's good practice for not having a partner.

He could just touch her he doesn't want to just touch her and he knows he won't be able to control himself.

...she could touch him?

He extends his hand out. "You can. Touch my hand. —don't hold it. Just."

"Mmmkay," she agrees. Scoot scoot, across the couch, and over she goes to touch his hand.

Waaaaaaaaaarm. It's just their hands but waaaaaaarm warm warm warm warm.

She practically melts.

Tae-gun on the other hand had his eyes squeezed tightly shut and was trying to prepare for it and it still almost made him come.

It's the first time he's had backlash this bad and not done... something about it as soon as possible. Holding it in is... difficult. It's very, very difficult.

A part of his brain notices that he's not sure how he'll be able to stand up from where he is. It'll be very, very noticeable, if he tries. Maybe he will just teleport home from a sitting position.

Or, well, there's this piteous amount of guiding, which isn't actually doing much.

.......oh his chest hurts. He hadn't noticed because he'd been so focused on the one thing but his chest hurts. ......hurts more than normal, that is, he's always in pain these days but now it's worse. Which, well, of course it would be, but sometimes he forgets that backlash isn't just the metaphysical stuff, there's also the very real damage he's doing to his body all the time.

............................the pills just won't help with that. They can—halt it, prevent the damage. But doing three dungeons back-to-back, even easy ones like that, without taking pills in between, means that there was a lot of time for the mounting backlash to damage him. This amount of chest pain might be a new normal he'll have to get used to.

He coughs.

"Mmn?" she mumbles, opening an eye. "Y'okay?"

"Yeah," he says, and another cough belies it. "I might have breathed something in," he adds, which is true but unrelated.

"Mmmm."

Waaaaaaarm hand.

"..... think we should get medical in here?" she wonders, a little distantly.

pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic "Not on my account." pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic