- [404X405] A Package Arrived
Sanghyeon fumbled for his glasses, his half-asleep, dazed expression staring at the delivery box in front of him. His sleep-addled brain and blurry vision couldn’t process the information on the label until he put on his glasses. The shipping label on the large box didn’t have a printed address—it was scrawled in ballpoint pen: Lee Woo Villa, Unit 404. It was definitely his address, but the recipient’s name was different: Yun Jinho. Who? He didn’t know anyone by that name, neither among his friends nor his professional acquaintances. There was no phone number, and the sender was only listed as “Happy Toy.” Toy? What kind of toy? Was it a misdelivery? Huuu— Sanghyeon sighed. He had only sent off his manuscript three hours ago, collapsing into a deathlike sleep after meeting his deadline. And now, this obnoxious doorbell and pounding on the door had woken him up—all for a wrongly delivered package. He understood the delivery person’s frustration at not being able to reach anyone, but Sanghyeon was just annoyed at this sudden disruption.
The last time a package for Unit 301 had been misdelivered, it had clearly been the delivery person’s mistake. But this time, it seemed like the sender had written the wrong address. It did say Lee Woo Villa, Unit 404. As a writer, Sanghyeon’s schedule was inevitably erratic due to tight deadlines, so he rarely ordered deliveries. Even mail was sent to his parents’ place nearby, so he had never used “Lee Woo Villa, Unit 404” as his address—not even when signing up for websites. Naturally, he had no memory of using it for any orders. He hadn’t even told his friends this address, which he used as his workspace.
Yun Jinho. The name sounded vaguely familiar. As he tried to guess who the package belonged to, his mind grew heavy. A huge yawn escaped him, and it became painfully clear that his sleep-deprived brain had no capacity for thinking. So, he stopped trying and rip—tore open the box. After unwrapping layers of thick air cushioning, he found a sturdy black shipping bag inside. Why did they pack it so carefully? Was it not a child’s toy but an expensive figurine? The weight of the contents pressed against his hands, heavy and undeniable.
“What the hell is this?”
He deliberately spoke gruffly, trying to shake off the drowsiness threatening to pull him back under. Rubbing his forehead through his glasses, he cleared his throat and yawned again. Crackle—he tore open the stubborn shipping bag and peered inside. There were several items. He pulled one out with a rustling sound.
A large, round container filled with clear liquid. Skincare? He set it down indifferently and emptied the rest of the contents onto the floor. As he glanced at the scattered items, Sanghyeon let out a breathless, incredulous sound. The unexpected contents of the bag had chased away his sleep.
“So this ‘toy’ was that kind of toy?”
He laid out the adult toys on the floor, each one eliciting an involuntary exclamation. A large black dildo, wrapped in yet another layer of rustling plastic, dominated the scene. The first item he’d pulled out was a large bottle of lube. There was a box of 20 condoms. The small, round objects connected by a string were egg vibrators. They seemed beginner-friendly, but the dildo’s size was anything but.
Why was this misdelivered to me? Whoever sent this should have double-checked the address, Mr. Yun Jinho. He suddenly remembered the time he had kindly returned a misdelivered package to Unit 301. The recipient had reacted defensively, immediately asking if he’d opened it, leaving Sanghyeon with a sour taste in his mouth despite his good deed. He’d received an apology and thanks, but it hadn’t made him feel any better. Had that package contained something similar? He couldn’t remember the name. If it was the same person, he’d throw a fit if he found out Sanghyeon had opened it. Ugh. He sighed, deciding to repack everything—just as the doorbell rang. Ding-dong. The only person who ever visited was the building manager. Sanghyeon left the items scattered and headed to the door.
“Who is it?”
“I, I’m your neighbor… from Unit 405.”
The stammering voice from the other side of the door was laced with panic. Neighbor? A vague memory of a man he’d nodded to in passing flashed through his mind. And then, the package. No way. That innocent-looking guy? Sanghyeon pressed the door lock button and opened the door. Standing there was a man whose face mirrored his flustered voice.
“What’s the matter?”
The man avoided Sanghyeon’s gaze, fidgeting with his hands. Sanghyeon couldn’t miss the obvious signal. So you’re the owner of the package, Mr. Yun Jinho. He’d always seemed like a nice guy, greeting him first whenever they passed. But this innocent-looking man was the owner of that huge dildo? The contrast piqued his interest. As he scanned the man’s restless form up and down, he was certain these were for personal use. Who was he planning to use them with? When their eyes met, the man immediately looked down, his bangs shifting above his eyebrows. Even his round nose bridge trembled. He still looked gentle and innocent, but now, Sanghyeon’s eyes were picking up something else—something sensual, hidden beneath the surface of his secret hobby.
Hmm. Sanghyeon deliberately opened the door wider, stepping aside so Jinho could see the items laid out in the living room.
“Ah, ahhhh!”
Jinho shrieked at the sight of his things and lunged into Sanghyeon’s apartment. Sanghyeon smirked and slam—shut the door. Click. The automatic lock engaged, and Jinho, who had been frantically kicking off his shoes, froze in surprise. He turned to Sanghyeon, stammering, at a loss for what to do.
“Uh, t-that, the package, it’s m-mine…”
“Mr. Yun Jinho?”
Jinho’s face turned bright red as he nodded.
“Come in. We’re neighbors, but we’ve never even introduced ourselves. I’m Han Sanghyeon. I write for a living.”
“Ah, oh, yes. I’m Yun Jinho.”
Unlike Sanghyeon, who introduced himself fully, Jinho only gave his name, glancing around nervously as he stepped inside. Sanghyeon chuckled to himself, imagining he could hear Jinho’s heart pounding. He watched as Jinho quickly moved toward the scattered items, but Sanghyeon tap—grabbed his wrist. Jinho flinched, his startled eyes meeting Sanghyeon’s, who smiled warmly.
“The address was for Unit 404, so I opened it. Since things turned out this way… could you do me a favor, Jinho?”
“Huh? W-what?!”
Jinho, already on edge, recoiled so violently that he jerked his arm away from Sanghyeon. The force made Sanghyeon stumble back, thud—hitting his back against the wall. Jinho’s face twisted in a mix of panic and guilt as Sanghyeon rubbed the back of his head, feigning pain. He furrowed his brows slightly but kept his smile bright.
“I’m doing research for my writing. I don’t have anyone to ask about adult toys, and since you’re here… Could you help me out? Just a few simple questions. I’ll buy you dinner.”
Jinho, his face still full of apology, nodded. Sanghyeon stepped closer, gripping Jinho’s right shoulder and stretching his arm to hold his left forearm, pulling him into a half-embrace from behind. Jinho stiffened as Sanghyeon guided him toward the living room. The heat of Jinho’s arm, exposed by his short-sleeved shirt, pressed against Sanghyeon’s palm. A faint, sweet lotion scent wafted from his smooth skin. After a few steps, Jinho, unable to resist, was led to the table. Sanghyeon sat him down, watching as Jinho glanced nervously at the items on the floor.
“Want some tea?”
“Huh? Oh, no, I’m fine.”
Gulp. Jinho swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He must be thirsty. Sanghyeon ignored his refusal and walked to the fridge. The apartment was small, so every movement was within easy reach. Jinho, startled by Sanghyeon’s sudden movement, didn’t stop him. So he is thirsty. Sanghyeon opened the fridge, realized he didn’t even have juice, and smirked as he pulled out two cans of beer. He placed a cold can in front of Jinho as he sat across from him.
“I thought alcohol might help you relax.”
Pop. The sound of the can opening made Jinho’s dry mouth twitch. Still, he hesitated to reach for it. Sanghyeon opened his own can and took a sip, the crisp sound of pop ringing out again. Jinho finally picked up his can and gulped it down, exhaling with a mix of alcohol and relief.
“Sorry for opening your package. I’m naturally curious because of my job, and the address was mine. Don’t worry, I just need some general answers. Help me out for a bit, and I’ll buy you dinner.”
Jinho’s tension eased under Sanghyeon’s smooth voice and the spreading warmth of the alcohol. He nodded. Sanghyeon gathered the items from the floor and placed them on the table. Jinho took another swig of beer as he faced the array of products.
“Do you use these alone?”
Sanghyeon didn’t voice his concern that it might be awkward if Jinho had a partner. Gulp, gulp. Jinho drank more beer, then set the half-empty can down with a clink. Sanghyeon took that as a good sign. To confirm, Jinho gulped again, his voice small.
“H-how did you… know?”
His already flushed face turned even redder. Sanghyeon could almost read his thoughts behind his tightly shut eyes. The embarrassment was overwhelming. As Jinho finally opened his eyes, Sanghyeon took another sip of beer. So he uses that huge thing inside himself? The image of Jinho inserting the black dildo flashed through Sanghyeon’s mind. The lack of sleep and the alcohol made his body heat up. His lower half, hidden under the table, grew heavy. Of course, his lips still held a gentle smile.
“It’s fine. Writers don’t judge.”
His hand instinctively pushed up his glasses—a habit when he spun his fictional tales. No judgment? Everyone had their own standards and prejudices. He hated lumping all writers together, yet he often used his profession as a convenient tool. It made things easier, like slipping through a cracked door. And now, Jinho’s expression softened, just as Sanghyeon had intended.