SMS | Chapter 2.4

Dohoon had discovered a BDSM club as soon as he became an adult. There, he learned about proper play and even found partners. Although he had stopped going due to various concerns, it was at this club that he first met ‘J.’

Known within the club as the infamous ‘pervert vanilla’—someone who acts like a member of the scene without a true sadistic or masochistic inclination—J was quite a character.

It was a mystery why such a person was even welcomed in an S&M club, but apparently, it was because he was well-built and wealthy. Given the lack of people, they even tolerated someone with such a nickname. In reality, despite being disparaged as a pervert vanilla, there were fools who desired his company.

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While Dohoon knew of him from the club, he never knew his real job, age, or even his name. He didn’t want to know. If it was just a joke of a nickname, there was no reason to get involved with someone with such a reputation, especially since he played the dominant role—there was no overlap in their circles. He just knew the rumors.

‘A company junior?’

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Today, he had met ‘J.’ It was a bizarre encounter. J looked at him as if he had stolen his sub, glaring with animosity.

That he was Mino’s company junior made the world feel incredibly small. J seemed to recognize him too.

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After leaving the club, Dohoon heard that J was practically kicked out for behaving unacceptably under the guise of play. Who was he to slander anyone?

Despite his anger, he remembered not saying much, which meant he probably hadn’t disclosed his inclinations to Mino. Mino must have looked at him that way. The thought of Mino’s apologetic face came to mind.

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Contemplating Mino made him think, but he shook his head. Such tastes weren’t common.

Dohoon picked up his phone to call an old friend. Soon, loud music bled through the receiver.

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“What’s up? Calling me now?”

The voice, husky for a woman, carried a laugh. It sounded like she was smoking a sigh.

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“I have something to ask.”

“Shoot.”

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The music quieted, suggesting she had stepped outside.

The recipient, So Eunjoo, was a close friend of Dohoon’s since childhood. Their families attended the same church where Dohoon’s father was a pastor.

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They shared a lot in common, having both wandered from their faith and even frequented the BDSM club together.

By day, she was a lawyer; by night, she reigned as a queen in the club, known to the submissives as ‘Galatea’ or ‘Idol.’ Regardless, the scene was messy, and decent men were scarce.

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Thus, Dohoon often teased her as being a ‘dumbass magnet.’

“Remember ‘J’? The one who got kicked out of the club.”

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“Ah, that fucker. Why bring him up now?”

Immediate swearing indicated she knew him well. The sound of a lighter flicked once more through the phone.

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“I think I saw him today.”

“Where? You went to the club? But that guy’s blacklisted, where did you see him?”

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“Just ran into him. Do you know why he was expelled?”

“I don’t know the details. Rumor has it he forced sex under the guise of play. I thought his nickname was half-joking.”

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There was nothing more to ask.

“He’s trash.”

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Dohoon’s expression was cold, and Eunjoo continued.

“He probably just wanted some rough sex and crawled into the club trying to act special. The participants don’t know how fucked up it is. Who does this for fun, fuck.”

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Wondering if there was more to the story, but the conversation wasn’t pleasant.

“If you’re just going to complain, let’s hang up. It’s depressing.”

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“But where did you see him? You really went to the club? Thought you swore off that shit, fucker!”

She was perplexed why he would ask after mentioning J’s blacklist status. Dohoon sighed deeply.

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“I didn’t go to the club, stop your bitching. And quit smoking; it’s rotting your lungs.”

“Hey, you motherf—”

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Eunjoo was always quick to anger. Was it okay for a lawyer to be so outspoken? But that was common in their circles; as long as she did her job, it didn’t matter.

Reaffirming what he knew about ‘J’ only complicated his feelings.

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Why did he even bother? Stroking the fur of his white Jindo dog, Sowol, who lay quietly at his feet, Dohoon pondered.

If such a pervert was looking at Mino that way, he was in real danger. Mino was too naive and unsophisticated for his age, prone to getting hurt.

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“Am I crazy…?”

The image of those large eyes that had stared at him haunted Dohoon, stirring unfamiliar feelings. It was a new sensation to feel this way about another person. If he had to name it..

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“Meow.”

Ah, right. The pitiful cry of a hungry kitten approached. It was quite similar.

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“Hungry? Come here.”

He picked up the young cat, which didn’t yet have a name. The forlorn creature, orphaned and alone, sucked greedily on Dohoon’s fingers. After Sowol was brushed, he glanced at the cat in Dohoon’s hand before leisurely heading to his kennel.

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Had the kitten remained on the street, it might have survived the cold but possibly could have been harmed by stray dogs or killed on the road. The cat survived with Mino’s help; perhaps Mino also needed someone’s help.

Dohoon decided, somewhat unusually for him, to meddle a bit, partly to test the waters with Mino.

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How would Mino react to a ‘date’ proposal from another man?

His message, loaded with many intentions, didn’t take long to provoke a response.

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Within less than ten minutes, his phone rang.