SB Ch 1
by toujoursSometimes, I feel like dust floating in the air. Once part of something, but now nothing. Unable to plant my feet on the ground, occasionally settling somewhere only to be easily dislodged by a small shock, like an outsider.
That’s exactly how it felt now. Every time Chae Beomjoon visited this eerie building, he felt like he was floating aimlessly. The sense of buoyancy he felt here was so overwhelming that he sometimes fell into the illusion that the ground beneath his feet was empty.
But it wasn’t something he could avoid. This was something only Chae Beomjoon could do. In familiar discomfort, he descended the stairs.
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At the end of the slow descent was the basement. The firmly closed iron door didn’t even budge, as if it didn’t welcome visitors. Beyond that door was a part of the world where Chae Beomjoon could never set foot.
“……”
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No sound echoed in the silent basement corridor. But for Chae Beomjoon, that was even scarier.
Maybe he had mistimed it. Maybe he should just wait until they came out. He had such thoughts briefly, but the desire to leave this place quickly was stronger. Eventually, he took a deep breath and slowly raised his hand to press the small doorbell next to the access panel. A strange silence followed, and after a moment, the heavy iron door moved.
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“…You’re here.”
With the smell of blood, Moon Sunhyuk, the head of the processing team, appeared. A bleak light crossed his expressionless face. Ignoring the bright red blood splatter on his cheek and the scalpel in his hand, Chae Beomjoon stated his purpose for being there.
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“How far along is the work? They’re pestering me about it.”
This basement was a place where illegal organ trafficking surgeries were routinely performed. Moon Sunhyuk, who had learned to handle a scalpel from his predecessor, a former doctor, was performing his job quite well. Of course, it wasn’t his main job; it was a service provided for VIPs with ties to the organization.
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“…It will be done in an hour. Would you like to check?”
The taciturn butcher, seemingly disliking long conversations, stepped aside from the door as he asked.
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And through the revealed gap, a horrifying scene came into view. Nausea surged. It was a scene of slaughter that one could never get used to. Chae Beomjoon turned his head with an effort to appear unaffected. Nodding as if he had confirmed it, he gestured towards the stairs.
“That should be about right. I’ll tell them to be ready, so please make sure it doesn’t get delayed.”
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“Yes.”
“Good work, then.”
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Without delay, he turned and ascended the stairs at a leisurely pace. He didn’t want to show any signs of agitation. As he moved further away, Moon Sunhyuk called out behind him.
“Take care, Chief.”
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“See you next time.”
The Daegam faction, the predecessor of DG Group, was a violent organization that had dominated Seoul and the metropolitan area. Chae Beomjoon was currently the chief secretary to Shin Kyoyeon, the actual leader of the organization. Responding with a composed reply to the title that reminded him of his position, he soon heard the click of the door locking.
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Only then did Chae Beomjoon stop and look back, confirming that the basement door was closed, and let out a sigh. The deep breath he exhaled seemed to carry the scent of blood.
He could never get used to such things. Nor did he want to. With a bitter thought, he took out a cigarette from his pocket. He pulled a cigarette from a pack with a small camel drawing and put it in his mouth. Lighting it and inhaling, the high tar and nicotine content, along with the harsh smoke, finally seemed to dull the smell of blood.
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He climbed the stairs with a weary motion. As he reached the first floor and was about to go outside, someone opened the door and came in. It was Haewoong, the youngest member of the processing team, just like Moon Sunhyuk.
Seeing that shiny face, all thoughts vanished, and he was intrigued. Chae Beomjoon smiled politely and opened the door for him.
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“Oh, Chief! Hello!”
“Long time no see. How have you been?”
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“Oh, really well. Since you’re here, buy me something delicious.”
Haewoong, upon seeing Chae Beomjoon, smiled cheerfully and soon started pestering him for a meal. When the previous chief was around, they used to eat well, but since Moon Sunhyuk became the chief, it seemed there were no more team dinners.
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“What should I buy you? Is there something you want to eat?”
Chae Beomjoon asked, lifting the corners of his mouth.
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The youngest member of the processing team was a bit shorter than him and had a somewhat cute face. Despite having a significant flaw of anger management issues, he had a firm body and buttocks from working out, making him quite huggable. Moreover, as far as he knew, Haewoong had recently broken up with his girlfriend, so there was nothing to hold him back… Just as he was thinking this, an unwelcome murmur reached his ears.
“I had beef with Hyungju yesterday, so, hmm.”
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“…Didn’t you break up?”
Hyungju. As far as Chae Beomjoon knew, that was the name of Haewoong’s ex-girlfriend. He had heard about their breakup a month ago after dating for over a year, but now they were back together? He frowned slightly and asked, to which Haewoong replied with a grin.
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“Hyungju gave me one last chance. So this time.”
If he had reconciled with his girlfriend, there was no reason to buy him a meal. Chae Beomjoon hated spending money on people he couldn’t have sex with. There was nothing more meaningless.
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“Oh, come to think of it, I urgently need to speak with the boss. Sorry. I’ll tell Chief Moon to have a meal with you.”
“Oh, that’s a shame… Goodbye…”
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He didn’t notice the disappointed face saying goodbye. Tsk tsk, Chae Beomjoon clicked his tongue inwardly as he turned away.
People never change. It was obvious that Haewoong and his girlfriend would break up again over the same issues.
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But knowing that didn’t mean he would waste time advising the youngest member. He didn’t want to be called an old fogey by someone over ten years younger, and people blinded by love always lived with their ears closed, so saying anything would only tire his mouth.
“Putting a leash on themselves, a leash…”
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Why not live freely?
Why must they shackle themselves with the name of love and relationships?
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Everyone around Chae Beomjoon who claimed to be in love was a bit insane. They seemed like split personalities, hating and resenting one moment, then kissing and saying they loved each other the next. To Chae Beomjoon, they were voluntary lunatics, nothing more, nothing less.
Without dating, just having sex, one could be happy with anyone. Just because they wouldn’t see each other again, they could share deep thoughts and find comfort with strangers, and by having relationships with various people in various positions, they could realize the many kinds of happiness in the world. But why couldn’t those people outside realize this simple truth and instead shackle themselves?
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Chae Beomjoon really couldn’t understand.
Crazy Bastard
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Where are you? 17:21
Crazy Bastard
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Yoon Heesoo wants something to eat.
[Photo]
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Get it somehow and send it to the house. 17:22
As the saying goes, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Just then, a message arrived from the craziest person among Chae Beomjoon’s acquaintances. It was his long-time friend, boss, and the actual leader of this immoral organization, Shin Kyoyeon, CEO of DG O&M. To be honest, as a friend, he was a psychopath with significant character flaws.
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“Are you kidding me…”
Chae Beomjoon sighed and clicked his tongue at the string of messages. It was a screenshot of an internet news article with a picture of peaches attached. However, those Seol-ah peaches were in season in December, and even if they received the first harvest, it would take at least another month to get them.
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How was he supposed to get something that hadn’t even ripened yet? Just as he was thinking that, he saw the last message and clenched his fist.
Crazy Bastard
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Don’t even think about going home if you can’t get it. 17:23
“Ugh, this bastard.”
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Love is so harmful.
Seeing how his boss and thirty-year-old friend was tormenting him to feed winter peaches to his 17-year-younger lover in late autumn, it was clear that being in a relationship degraded one’s character and personality into trash. He was already not in his right mind, but not to this extent…
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Anyway, his plan to finish his last task and go home to rest was ruined. Annoyed but used to the change in schedule, Chae Beomjoon pulled over to the side of the road and opened his contacts.
He made calls to various people and finally got the producer’s phone number. After a short call, Beomjoon managed to make a verbal agreement to purchase some of the first harvest of Seol-ah peaches. However, he knew he would get scolded if he didn’t find a substitute for the Seol-ah peaches immediately.
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“Hello, Chef. How have you been? This is Chae Beomjoon.”
It was the peak season for European flat peaches. Beomjoon called the chef of a hotel, who he was sure had those peaches, and listened to his chatter for an hour in exchange for a box of flat peaches.
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He then explained the situation, left a message for the boss, and contacted the youngest member of the secretary’s office to pick up the peaches.
Only then was the urgent task finally completed.
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“Sigh…”
The sun was setting outside the window. However, Chae Beomjoon, who had one last task to complete, drove busily instead of heading home.
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After a long drive, he arrived at the ‘Suseon Grand Theater’ located at the foot of Bukaksan Mountain. This was where the private symphony orchestra operated by Shin Kyungjoo, the nominal head of the Daegam faction (DG), for his wife Suseonhwa, was located.
The orchestra’s conductor was Shin Kyoyeon, the successor of Shin Kyungjoo, but since he had no time to manage such matters, Chae Beomjoon acted as his deputy.
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Most of the tasks he did on behalf of Shin Kyoyeon were annoying, but fortunately, the work related to the symphony orchestra was not. People laughed as if he was lying when he said he liked classical music despite being obsessed with sex, but in reality, he genuinely liked classical music and orchestras.
Chae Beomjoon was someone who had explored all kinds of hobbies from a young age to lure people into bed. Reading, piano, horseback riding, cycling, cooking, swimming, skiing, tea ceremonies, poetry, recitation, and even perfumery. He considered the process of gaining consent as part of sex, so he put effort into it like a sex artist.
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Among all the things he learned, classical music was the only one that remained his true hobby for a clear reason.
Although he didn’t like the word love, Chae Beomjoon undoubtedly loved the orchestra. Just like he loved sex.
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The performance of an orchestra was not just a sequence of sounds. Listening to the exquisite harmony created by dozens of instruments, a breathtaking view unfolded before his eyes. The similar yet different sounds of string instruments, with their subtle commonalities, beautifully spread from a focal point, while woodwinds, brass, and percussion scattered intense colors over them.
To Chae Beomjoon, that harmony was like an orgy of instruments. The beautiful sounds created by dozens of musicians playing in unison made his lower abdomen churn and aroused him.
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Maintaining a state of constant arousal was not easy. However, every time he listened to the perfect harmony of an orchestra’s concerto, Chae Beomjoon was always erect.
Therefore, even when acting as a deputy, his steps were light whenever he visited the concert hall. Chae Beomjoon chose the sexiest scent from the 20 portable perfumes in the glove box, sprayed it, and tidied his hair while looking in the mirror. Then he got out of the car and headed to the office on the second floor.
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“Oh, Chief! Hello. You’re here?”
In front of the conductor’s private office was the desk of the administrative team handling various tasks for the private symphony orchestra. As Chae Beomjoon approached, an employee who had been frantically looking at something stood up and smiled. It was Hong Hyekyung, the administrative team leader.
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She was small, not even reaching his chin. Her face was ordinary, but her smile was particularly cute. She had shared meals and intimate moments with Chae Beomjoon a few times. Maybe tonight would be the same.
“Ms. Hyekyung, how have you been?”
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Greeting her with a pleasant voice, Chae Beomjoon naturally approached and placed his hand on her shoulder. Smooth words of flattery flowed from his lips.
“You get prettier every time I see you. Maybe it’s because your birthday is in the fall, but as the cold wind starts blowing, I think of you.”
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Hyekyung blushed at the compliment she never got used to, glancing at his hand.
“Oh, really?”
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Then she awkwardly turned her body. But there was a ring on her finger that he hadn’t seen before as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Noticing it easily, Chae Beomjoon clicked his tongue inwardly and quickly withdrew his hand. The plague of the misery fetish was spreading everywhere.
Anyway, if she had a boyfriend, further flirting was impossible. Chae Beomjoon’s principle was never to share a partner with someone else, regardless of the situation. Of course, intentional threesomes were an exception.
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“Have you been well, Chief? You’re here for the personnel processing, right? I’ve prepared the blind auditions. I’ll guide you to the conductor’s office.”
Sex was fine, but no relationships. What happened that night ended that night. That was Chae Beomjoon’s absolute principle. He had met a few partners he liked and formed sexual relationships, but other than that, he had never broken his rule. So there was no reason to cling to or blame Hyekyung for having a boyfriend. Cleanly giving up, Chae Beomjoon smiled lightly and followed her into the conductor’s office.
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“The parental leave documents are here, and the applicants’ documents are in the file, so you can listen to their performances and decide. I’ve organized them in order from 1 to 5. The 5th applicant… I’m not sure, but the planning team leader thought you might like them, so I included them. If you need any help, just press the call button!”
“Thank you.”
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After Hyekyung finished explaining and left, Chae Beomjoon, now alone in the conductor’s office, first signed the deputy’s name on the parental leave documents for the double bass assistant principal and grabbed the mouse. Although the applicants’ resumes were prepared right next to him, he had no intention of checking them. That wasn’t what mattered in a performance.
Clicking on the listening folder on the desktop, he saw five subfolders simply numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. They contained the performance files sent by the double bassists who had applied for the vacant position.
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He took the headset hanging next to the monitor and put it on, pressing the noise-canceling button. All the external noise that had been faintly audible disappeared. He uploaded the two files sent by the first applicant to the playlist and pressed play. It was the start of a blind audition for the recruitment of a new double bassist.
“……”
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Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes gently. As he held his breath and listened, a blank world where nothing existed came to mind. Soon, the piece began, and the moment the bow met the strings, a thick line was drawn across that world.
The double bass, also known as the contrabass or contrabass, was the largest and lowest-pitched string instrument. Its heavy melody didn’t sharpen the mind like a violin but made the heart tremble. It stimulated not emotions but instincts. Chae Beomjoon felt this way every time the strings of the double bass vibrated. Of course, there were some players who couldn’t even provide such basic stimulation. After all, art wasn’t easy.
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Anyway, after some time, the first file finished playing. But the line drawn on the blank page was clean. It was exemplary enough to fit neatly anywhere. It just meant it was bland and lacked character.
Chae Beomjoon slowly tilted his head and crossed his arms. After listening to the uninteresting second file without much impression, he immediately played the file of the second applicant.
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“Hmm…”
However, even after the fourth applicant’s performance ended, his expression remained indifferent.
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They all played well, and they all had decent skills. Exemplary but boring. It was to the point where drawing lots to pick someone wouldn’t significantly change the current orchestra’s melody.
Since solo performances are pretty much the same, and they would perform their roles well once placed in their positions, should he really just flip a coin to decide? With such similar performances, he even thought about that as he played the file of the fifth applicant. Suddenly, Chae Beomjoon’s boredom was shattered by the piercing performance.
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Unlike the previous four files, which were filled with classical pieces, the fifth applicant chose a lullaby-like song.
Erik Satie’s “Je Te Veux.” A famous piece.
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But the “Je Te Veux” played by the fifth applicant didn’t seem like it could put anyone to sleep.
What is this?
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The performance was rough. I want you. The melody, which had been nothing more than a sweet confession through others’ performances, felt like an obsessive knock on the door.
I want to have you. I want to touch you. I want you.
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Every time the performer moved the bow, the tone extended like a ghost, groping his entire body. Under such intangible touches, the excitement spreading like a spider web along his veins made his blood boil.
A message that changes significantly depending on the performer. Chae Beomjoon licked his lips and let out a hot sigh. The bulging front of his pants felt like it was about to burst.
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Unlike the performances he had heard so far, it was extremely different yet sexy. The blank page, once filled with honest lines, was now covered with rough, thick melodies, all poured out by the last performer wielding the bow. It was a trace that didn’t fit the symphony orchestra at all.
But that was what fascinated Chae Beomjoon.
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The sense of alienation he felt when opening the basement door earlier in the day was right here, right now. The performance, different from the existing performers, evoked a strange sense of kinship in him.
At the age of five, after his father’s death, Chae Beomjoon became the adopted son of Shin Kyungjoo, the boss of the organization, and was incorporated into this world against his will. It was better when he was young, but after becoming an adult, it was a continuous process of realizing the cruelty behind the abundance given to him. Throughout that time, Chae Beomjoon was always an outsider. An outsider who could never assimilate into this savage and terrifying world.
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The performer, whose performance was almost violently sensual, was similar to him. This person would be an outsider on stage. Or perhaps the members of the stage wouldn’t even accept someone so different in the first place.
But the performer, who must have known this better than anyone, applied to this orchestra with his own hands. As if he was determined to succeed. So Chae Beomjoon wanted to give him a chance to stand on stage. And he wanted to watch. To see if he would float or settle.
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Could this performer, who couldn’t adapt to this world and lived in isolation, meet a different end than himself? He was genuinely curious.
🔮🌙
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Approaching forty, Chae Beomjoon still looked young. The word “young” was really a modifier for the elderly, but it was hard to find a word that better described his state. He could be described as trendy and sophisticated, but that explanation alone felt a bit lacking.
He paid great attention to his style, which determined the first impression, from head to toe. Like a peacock grooming its tail feathers to attract a mate, he groomed himself with hundreds of clothes, over a hundred perfumes, habitual strength training, and cardio exercises. The difference from a peacock was that he tried to attract both men and women.
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Anyway, the peacock was picking out clothes at home today to seduce someone. After being tormented by his boss for a few days for getting delicious peaches, he finally got to leave work on time.
It wasn’t because the peaches were bad. Shin Kyoyeon, jealous because Yoon Heesoo enjoyed the flat peaches too much, tormented him. Beomjoon genuinely thought his boss’s antics should be classified as a mental disorder.
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Anyway, while he usually wore suits, he didn’t wear them during his leisure time. Since he often went to clubs without having time to change due to his busy schedule, he dressed differently on such occasions to give a fresh impression.
It was early September, and the cool autumn breeze had just begun. On such days… Chae Beomjoon shook his wet hair slightly and took out a Henley shirt from his wardrobe.
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There were about 30 Henley shirts hanging in his wardrobe. Starting with clean white and getting darker towards the right, the last shirt was black. They all looked similar at first glance, differing only in color, but upon closer inspection, each had different details. Henley shirts without buttons on the placket were Chae Beomjoon’s favorite, so he ended up buying every one he liked.
Wearing the shirt made his chest muscles stand out, and the fit came to life. Chae Beomjoon nodded in satisfaction while looking in the full-length mirror, then put on pants and fastened his belt. After fixing his hair, the pitiful secretary who was bullied at work disappeared from the mirror, leaving only a rake whose life’s goal was to die in bed.
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“Why am I so handsome?”
Chae Beomjoon, satisfied with his reflection, left the dressing room and headed to the vanity in the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He looked down at the 117 perfumes laid out and picked one.
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The simple round bottle was labeled ‘Météore.’ He had bought it after asking a luxury store employee for a perfume that the most handsome man in the world would use. Starting with mandarin and ending with vetiver, its elegant finish resembled him perfectly.
Bringing the perfume bottle to his nose, Chae Beomjoon savored the scent before raising his arm to cover the smell of the rake. He sprayed it over his head, letting it fall on his hair and shoulders once, then on his back, and finally dabbed a bit on the back of his hand.
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After confirming the subtle lingering scent, he opened a drawer, took out a silver rosary ring, and put it on the fourth finger of his right hand. Only then was he fully prepared. Smiling at the handsome man in the mirror, he grabbed his car keys and left the house.
Chae Beomjoon frequented several clubs, but the one he planned to visit today was different from the drinking and dancing clubs in Hongdae or Gangnam.
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Known simply as the ‘Social Club,’ it was a space accessible only to verified members. While many young people were brought in to satisfy the hungry members, most of the visitors were socially established individuals.
“Welcome, Chief. I’ll help you with parking.”
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“Thank you.”
As he parked in front of the building and got out, a valet booth employee approached and took his car keys. Chae Beomjoon lightly touched his hair, which might have gotten a bit messy, and looked up at the club in front of him.
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It was a closed space with no windows. No one could know what was happening inside. The building had a sunken garden in the middle, allowing sunlight in, but the building’s height prevented anyone from looking inside. To photograph the club’s interior, one would need to climb to the roof without a ladder or use a helicopter.
It was an obviously intentional building. Dangerous and shady. In fact, Chae Beomjoon, who had no interest in forcibly taking someone or drugs, didn’t frequent this place often. But today, he needed a fine meal, so he chose this place on purpose.
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Entering the building, he immediately saw an elevator. The guard standing in front recognized Chae Beomjoon and bowed politely.
“Welcome, I’ll guide you to the basement.”
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The lobby of the Social Club was on the first basement floor, and all the vices and dirty deeds took place in the secret rooms above. With only one entrance, everyone would burn to death if a fire broke out, but he thought it would be fine.
“Welcome, Chief. It’s been a while.”
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“It’s been a while.”
As he got off on the first basement floor, the club manager guarding the lobby greeted Chae Beomjoon.
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Most people who frequented the club were called by their titles, and those who didn’t work were called by their names. With many third-generation chaebols and numerous CEOs, the title of chief might seem insignificant, but given that he was the right-hand man of the DG organization, which dominated Seoul and the metropolitan area, the title held immense power.
Because of this, many people avoided Chae Beomjoon, but many also welcomed him. The club manager was among the latter.
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“Have you been busy? I’ve been waiting…”
The manager, wearing a tight suit that revealed the curves of his waist, smiled as he approached. From Chae Beomjoon’s perspective, he was young enough to be called a ‘kid.’
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He’d had sex with the guy twice. While he usually avoided getting too close to people he frequently encountered, the persistent seduction left him with no choice. Chae Beomjoon never turned anyone away. Though on a day like today, when he wanted to meet someone new, he would have preferred to avoid such encounters.
“How have you been? I’ve been a bit busy. I’d like to grab a meal.”
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Greeting the clingy manager with a polite smile, Chae Beomjoon exuded good manners. The sharp manager quickly picked up on the subtle rejection hidden in his composed, gentle smile and naturally stepped aside.
“I’ll prepare it right away. Will you dine in the hall or in a private room?”
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“Set me up in the hall for now.”
It was probably that sharp intuition that earned the young manager his position at the front desk. Leaving the bowing manager behind, Chae Beomjoon headed toward the sunken garden. He planned to smoke a cigarette before eating. Although private rooms permitted smoking or even weed, the hall was strictly non-smoking, so stepping outside to the garden was a must.
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With a soft click, the door opened, and the crisp autumn breeze brushed against his cheek. A perfect day for sex. Of course, there was no such thing as a bad day for sex, but on days like this, the need to press skin against skin felt almost overwhelming. Reaching into his pocket, Chae Beomjoon pulled out a pack of cigarettes, hoping to find someone interesting at the bar upstairs later.
“I’m not crazy.”
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The pleasant sound of a rich, melodic voice broke through the stillness. It was an unfamiliar voice, someone he’d never heard before. His ears perked up, and he immediately scanned his surroundings.
Under the moonlight’s faint edge, just beyond the shadows, he spotted a man flicking a lighter open and shut.
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The man frowned deeply, his brows furrowed over piercingly clear eyes filled with displeasure, staring down at the ground. From afar, his large eyes and long lashes were strikingly visible. A small, straight nose and full, shapely lips gave his face an exquisite symmetry.
“If I were going to do that, I would’ve killed it before I came to Korea.”
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The deadly serious tone of the conversation barely registered. Chae Beomjoon’s focus was entirely consumed by the man’s appearance.
His hair, moving gently in the breeze, looked soft enough to run fingers through and feel it slip like silk. Even standing in the shadowy edge, his pale skin shone unmistakably bright, catching the faint starlight that kissed the curve of his cheekbone and the tip of his nose.
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With each soft exhale, his small face subtly moved, a picture of elegance. Though his features exuded refinement, the way he spoke on the phone, head lowered, made him seem imperiously aloof. He looked like someone who had never once bowed to another.
In summary, this man fit Chae Beomjoon’s preferences so perfectly that it wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d immediately stripped and pounced.
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Am I hallucinating? Or is this my reward for making a psychopath act like a decent human being? Fiddling with the rosary ring on his finger, Chae Beomjoon watched the man intently. Just then, a gust of autumn wind swept between the buildings, carrying with it a faint trace of mandarin and the distinct aroma of vetiver.
Realizing the man wore the same cologne as him, Chae Beomjoon’s thoughts crystallized. If we wear the same fragrance, sharing the same bed once isn’t out of the question.
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With a sly smile, he approached the man. There was an obvious reason he was loitering in the smoking area, fidgeting with a lighter—he had no cigarettes. Conveniently, Chae Beomjoon had an unopened pack.
“…Hold on. I’ll call you back later.”
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As Chae Beomjoon drew closer, fiddling with the pack he’d pulled from his pocket, the man ended his call and slipped his phone into his pants pocket. He stared at the ground for a moment, ran a hand through his hair, then suddenly snapped his head up to look directly at Chae Beomjoon.
Up close, he was even more breathtaking, with features so refined they left Chae Beomjoon’s mouth dry. Dressed in a pristine white dress shirt, his face glowed brighter than the moonlight falling on it.
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The man pursed his lips as though asking, What do you want? His thick upper and lower lips pressed together as he blinked his doe-like eyes.
In that instant, Chae Beomjoon realized this wouldn’t be easy. If he wasn’t careful, the man would bolt. Years of experience had honed his instincts, and he immediately relaxed his facial muscles into a harmless, friendly smile. Waving the cigarette pack in his hand, he asked casually,
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“Care to trade?”
The man looked about 180 cm tall, though accounting for the loafers, probably closer to 178. His weight seemed just over 65 kg—perfectly sized for holding in an embrace, whether from above or below. As Chae Beomjoon spoke, he quickly assessed the man’s physique.
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“I’m out of a lighter, but it looks like you’ve got one.”
It was, of course, a lie. He always kept a backup lighter in his pocket, precisely for situations like this. The man, oblivious to the fib, seemed convinced by the plausible excuse. Instead of brushing him off, he tilted his head slightly.
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“…”
Still, he didn’t respond verbally, only lowering his gaze to the cigarette pack in Chae Beomjoon’s hand. Being sharp, Chae Beomjoon quickly understood what that look meant.
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“It’s fresh. Nothing strange, no weed, just plain cigarettes.”
He was clearly wary of being offered a spiked cigarette, likely from past experience or having witnessed such things often enough in places like this. It also indicated that he was someone with no intention of becoming a junkie—someone with pride.
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That was exactly the kind of person Chae Beomjoon welcomed. The greater their resistance to such vices, the sweeter the pleasure he felt when they eventually whimpered beneath him.
Excitement began to bubble within him. Suppressing his rising anticipation, Chae Beomjoon maintained a composed demeanor and introduced himself to the still-silent man.
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“I’m not a bad guy. Not a weirdo, not a junkie. Just a guy who wants to enjoy a cigarette.”
He extended the cigarette pack toward the man, inviting him to inspect it if he had doubts. On nights he went to clubs, Beomjoon always brought a fresh pack of cigarettes from his car, anticipating situations like this. He was perpetually prepared to seduce anyone he encountered.
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“Hm…”
Perhaps the explanation struck the right chord. The man finally responded, murmuring a sound that was somewhere between an acknowledgment and a sigh as he accepted the pack with the camel logo. He lifted it to eye level, turned it this way and that, and only after confirming it was indeed new did he lower it out of sight.
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The small red box that had obscured his face was gone, leaving behind only the aloof features of a man who now gazed up at Chae Beomjoon. His large eyes flickered about, scanning Beomjoon’s face as he opened the pack. After a light tap-tap on his palm, he flipped the cover open.
“…”
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With unhurried hands, the man plucked out a cigarette and naturally slid it between his fingers. Every movement was so deliberate, so sensuous, that it sent a jolt of arousal through Chae Beomjoon.
This was the body language of someone who had never once played the submissive in the game of seduction. Unlike Beomjoon, who habitually adopted a submissive role, the poised elegance of this man, who wore dominance like a second skin, was electrifying.
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“Thanks.”
And then he had the audacity to thank him in casual speech. The younger man’s brashness, despite clearly being much younger, left Beomjoon genuinely impressed. Ah, this is what life is about…
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“Are you a member? Haven’t seen you before.”
Respect was the foundation of any seduction. If you were going to tumble into bed with someone, you first had to respect them.
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Despite being addressed casually, Beomjoon responded with polite speech. Before the man could light his cigarette, he reached for the lighter the man held. Without grabbing it outright, he simply rested his fingers on it. The man glanced up, seemingly unfazed, and tilted his head in silent permission to take it.
As he opened the lid of the Zippo lighter, the flickering flame bathed the man’s pale face in a soft, reddish glow. It felt like a trailer for what was to come. A few hours from now, this man would wear that same flushed expression beneath Beomjoon.
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“Is that so.”
The man nodded, taking a drag from the cigarette. He winced slightly, as if the free cigarette was stronger than expected, and exhaled the smoke to the side. There was more he seemed ready to say, so Beomjoon waited patiently. His patience was rewarded when the man, after exhaling another puff, spoke with a faint smile.
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“Never seen you either, mister.”
“I’m not a ‘mister,’ though.”
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The word grated on him, but there was no need to take offense.