It was Friday afternoon, so the streets were packed with people. Bars with their doors flung wide were setting up outdoor tables, getting ready to open for business.
The place they arrived at was a barbecue joint tucked into a corner of an alley. It looked like they were in the middle of opening preparations—the owner and a part-timer were hustling back and forth. Yohan stepped inside and bellowed loudly.
“Hyung Sanggeol!”
At the shout, a man who’d been organizing dishes turned around. He was solidly built, his jaw buried under a thick beard.
“Park Yohan!”
“It’s been a while, hyung. I should’ve come earlier—sorry I’m only dropping by now.”
Yohan bent at the waist in a full ninety-degree bow. The man laughed heartily and pulled Yohan into a hug. Judging by the thickness of his arms, he looked like he could crush Yohan like a boiled potato. Sure enough, when Yohan started choking and gasping, he finally let go. Then he noticed Haejun, swept his gaze up and down him, and broke into a grin.
“And who’s this pretty one.”
“My friend. Say hello—this is Hyung Sanggeol.”
“Hello. I’m Yohan’s friend, Cha Haejun. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You’ve heard about me?”
He hadn’t known until just now, but the moment he saw the man’s face, it clicked. Yohan had mentioned him before. Said there were a few guys who’d quit hosting and moved on. This was one of them—made a lump sum, bought a building, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) and opened a barbecue place on the ground floor.
“Yes. He said you’re a really good guy. Someone he wants to be like.”
“I like how polite this kid is. Sit down over there. I’ll give you a proper service today.”
“Hey, I came here to spend money, not get freebies. Bring out the most expensive thing you’ve got. I’m treating him today, so make me look good.”
Yohan played it up at his side. Haejun looked at him in surprise. This was a guy who showered with cucumber soap to save money—now he was planning to drop serious cash at a barbecue place.
“Enough, you cheap bastard. Like anyone doesn’t know you never spend money. Hey, what do you want to eat?”
“I like pork belly, hyung.”
“I’ll bring you the best cut. Sit over there.”
They sat where he pointed. He’d said he’d give them service, and sure enough, side dishes kept coming nonstop—pancakes, rolled omelets, everything. There wasn’t even space to set them down, so they had to stack bowls on top of bowls. Only after Yohan went into the kitchen and begged him to stop, so the other customers wouldn’t see, did the flood of freebies finally end.
“Seriously,” Yohan snorted. On the grill, premium pork belly—carefully selected by the owner—was sizzling, a fresh pink turning golden.
“I do delivery jobs during the day because of that hyung. When he was still active, he worked part-time at a barbecue place during the day and ran a host bar at night.”
He was the kind of person diligent enough to be a role model. No wonder Yohan admired him. Haejun nodded, poured soju, and filled an empty glass. Taking a drink for the first time in a while made him sigh out a satisfied “Ah.”
“That’s how I’m going to live too. Save up money, buy an apartment and a small building out in the provinces, open a little shop on the first floor.”
It was a solid, airtight plan. For a moment, Haejun felt envious. Would a future like that ever come to him?
Not living day to day paying off debt, not dying miserably alone in a cramped room—but napping in his own cozy place with sunlight pouring in. Knowing reality, all he could manage was a bitter smile.
“You should pay off your debt and come live where I am. Wouldn’t it be nice if we lived together.”
“I want that too. Debt’s the real bastard.”
“Those fuckers still harassing you for money?”
“Lately I’ve been paying on time, so they don’t contact me as much. Thank God.”
“Crazy bastards. I wish they’d all just die.”
More than anyone, that was exactly what Haejun wished too. With nothing to say, he just drank. The soju tasted sweeter than reality.
“So how’s your new client.”
“Huh?”
Yohan clenched his fist and propped his elbow up. Haejun had once said Lee Kangjoo’s cock was about that size. Panicking, he grabbed Yohan’s hand and shoved it down, scanning the area. There were only a few customers scattered around, and they were sitting in a corner—no one seemed to have noticed.
“What the hell are you doing that here.”
“You’re the only one thinking ‘cock.’”
“You insane bastard.”
No matter how Haejun snapped, Yohan just cackled. Teasing him was clearly fun. The more Haejun reacted, the worse it got, so he wrapped a big piece of pork belly and shoved it straight into Yohan’s mouth. Yohan chewed, eyes smiling.
“Tell me. You milking his spine dry? Does he pay well? Can you endure it.”
“It’s all fine. He pays more than market rate, and he’s... kind of considerate, I guess.”
“Considerate?”
Yohan repeated the word with a grimace, like it gave him the creeps. He downed his glass in one go and refilled it.
“In what way.”
Haejun tilted his head, thinking. In what way? If he had to be specific, Lee Kangjoo did count as considerate. Rough in bed, sure—but he usually listened to Haejun’s requests.
“He gives me supplements.”
They’d been kids’ vitamins, and even those had come with the ulterior motive of him needing to last longer in the future—but still, that counted as consideration.
“He even went with me to the coin laundry.”
Haejun stared blankly into his glass. Reflections of that night seemed to spread across the clear liquor.
The strange tension that raised goosebumps, the washing machine turning like a coiled snake, the quiet hum and the stillness of dawn, and Lee Kangjoo’s palm cupping his cheek before he nodded off with his head on the table—all of it drifted past.
“And.......”
Snap. The sound of fingers flicking made Haejun snap back to reality. Yohan was staring straight at him, lips smiling but eyes cold.
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“Bullshit?”
Flustered, Haejun deliberately grabbed a few pieces of pork belly and stuffed them into his mouth. He ended up choking, coughing hard and scrambling for water. Yohan passed him a cup. After waiting for him to calm down, Yohan spoke slowly. When he said his name—“Cha Haejun”—his voice was gentle, but stern.
“Don’t give your heart to a client.”
“You said that last time too. We’re eating expensive meat—what’s with the nonsense.”
“If a guy who sells his body gives his heart to a client, his business is over. You end up on the street. You’re the one taking, not the one giving.”
“Who says I gave my heart.”
Haejun denied it again. Yohan drained his drink, clearly not listening to a word of Haejun’s insistence.
“And it’s a man, right? You’ve got a dick too, so you know. You think love makes sense between guys with dicks? Fuck, cum, done. That’s it. That’s why they’re males—brains attached to their cocks.”
Yohan tapped his own head with his index finger, then dragged it down to point at his crotch. Talk bordering on crude banter was drowned out by the loud music the owner had cranked up.
“I’m not into him.”
“Considerate, my ass. If someone wants to fuck you, there’s nothing they won’t do.”
Yohan couldn’t have been drunk off just a few glasses. Still, the way he kept repeating himself made Haejun deeply uncomfortable. He kept snapping back that he hadn’t given his heart, not even a shred of it—but Yohan looked like he’d already passed sentence.
Cha Haejun liked Lee Kangjoo. Or maybe even more than that.
Just the word “like” brushing through his head made his throat go bone-dry. Not wanting to lose, Haejun poured drink after drink into his mouth like he was drawing water from a well. Even when the empty bottles hit four, Yohan kept saying the same thing.
“Anyway, don’t like him.”
“I said I don’t.”
“If I tell you not to like him, then don’t. It’s the fast track to fucking your life up.”
Their conversation looped endlessly, no period in sight. Warnings and denials just went around and around the table.
Only when empty bottles had piled up, been cleared, and piled up again like snow did Yohan finally shut up. He wasn’t the type to overdrink, but maybe because it was Haejun, he’d let go—he slammed his head down on the table. Even then, he didn’t forget to mutter his warning, missing both subject and object.
The place that had been packed was now sparse. Even with someone you knew, camping until closing felt rude, so Haejun stood up to leave. The owner, leaning against the counter, smiled warmly at Haejun as he gathered the dishes.
“Leaving?”
“Yes. Thank you for today. It was delicious. Honestly, the best pork belly I’ve ever had. The cold kimchi noodles were great too—you’ve got real skill.”
He gave a thumbs-up in praise and pulled out his wallet. When he offered his card, the owner waved it away.
“Hey, take it.”
“No, really—”
“If I’m taking money, it’s from that guy. Says he’s treating and then passes out asleep—that’s the cheapest thing in the world. I’ll get it out of him, so you don’t worry and just go.”
“No, I’ll—”
“I said it’s fine. Put it away.”
The owner refused flatly. Losing the back-and-forth, Haejun slipped his wallet back into his pocket.
“By the way, couldn’t help overhearing—did you fall hard for a client?”
