We’d veered off somewhere and were now driving around what felt like some remote provincial area. I seriously wondered if he even knew where he was going. Jun kept winding deeper and deeper into a rural village that perfectly fit words like mountain valley or middle of nowhere.
For a ridiculous second, I even wondered if he was planning to bury me in the mountains. Once that uneasiness crept in, I started reflecting on whether I’d yelled at him too much earlier. As if this place were some kind of confessional booth in a cathedral, I looked at him and silently repented.
“Sorry. I was just a little scared earlier. But… we’re going the right way, right?”
“Yeah. We’re on the right track.”
Despite what he said, all I saw were trees, forest, clearing, trees again. How long had we been winding up the mountain road? Then a familiar sign came into view.
Native Chicken Baeksuk.
It was surprising enough that a restaurant existed this deep in the mountains, and even more surprising that he’d found it without navigation. What shocked me again was the number of cars already parked there. How did everyone even know about this place?
“Get out.”
After nearly two hours in the car—more than half of it spent anxious—I finally stepped out and was hit with nothing but crisp, refreshing air. In a place like this, anything would taste good, not just baeksuk.
Jun walked past a low stone wall and into the yard. A man who had been lifting something out of a large cauldron approached us.
“Uncle, have you been well?”
“Oh my, our Jun’s here? Go on in and sit.”
Instead of heading into the crowded dining area, Jun walked toward the back of the house. Once inside, I saw a small traditional paper sliding door. He grabbed the round handle and opened it with practiced ease.
When I followed him in, the room carried the distinct scent of straw you’d only ever smell at an old grandmother’s house.
“This doesn’t seem like a room for regular customers…”
I hesitated at the doorway when Jun brushed the back of my neck with his hand and gripped my shoulder. Heat flared around my neck as if flames had licked across it.
“What are you doing? Get in.”
He leaned his head down toward me, asking in a low voice as I instinctively hunched my shoulders. Pretending to stay calm, I muttered that I was coming in.
As I slowly took off my shoes, he removed his hand from my shoulder and stepped inside first. When I looked around the room, he followed my gaze. The wallpaper had yellowed with age, but the shiny yellow linoleum floor and surrounding objects looked meticulously clean, almost new. Though everything was old, it was clear it had been carefully maintained. Family photos were attached to the ceiling. I studied them, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t spot anyone who resembled Jun.
“My dad used to come stay here sometimes. That uncle was my dad’s junior.”
“Ah…”
The room was small, but it didn’t lack anything. There was even a small floor table.
Bang—
The door swung open, and the owner from earlier came in carrying a full spread. Side dishes of all kinds and bowls of rice were piled high.
“Oh ho, Jun! It’s been a while since you brought a friend.”
“He’s not a friend.”
“Oh? Then your lover? Hahaha.”
Sir, that’s not funny. I waved my hands, denying it. Seeing my reaction, the man chuckled and brushed it off as a joke.
“Wait here. I’ll bring the baeksuk right out.”
The door shut with a loud clatter of the handle. Even when the uncle joked like that, Jun didn’t deny it at all.
“Juni. Your uncle’s going to misunderstand.”
Jun dipped a green chili into soybean paste, twisting one corner of his mouth as he crunched into it. The sound was vivid. Just like that chili, my words were chewed up and ignored.
Even before the baeksuk arrived, the abundant side dishes made it feel like a full traditional Korean table. The nostalgic dishes reminded me of meals at a countryside grandmother’s house. Jun, who looked like he only ate hamburgers and spaghetti, was skillfully wrapping rice in pumpkin leaves.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
I’d stopped moving my chopsticks because I was too busy watching him, fascinated. It was unexpectedly charming. As I reached for a pumpkin leaf to try it myself, he tore one off and placed it on top of my rice.
“Don’t add too much soybean paste. It’s salty.”
“Mm.”
He was five years younger than me, yet he fussed over me like an older brother. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of affection. The arrogant look he always had when we ran into each other was nowhere to be seen. It was as if every bolt and latch had been undone—his whole demeanor seemed unusually at ease.
Was he always like this?
♩♬♪—
I’d just finished a wrap and wiped my hands when my phone rang.
It was a number I didn’t recognize, so I figured it might be a client and answered. It turned out to be the security office of my apartment complex. The moment I picked up, they asked if this was unit 412. I confirmed it and asked why they were calling. The reason was absurd.
“…Excuse me? In front of my door?”
[Ah, honestly. The item looks like adult goods. You should’ve requested discreet packaging. What were you thinking receiving something like this? The outside of the box has all sorts of indecent pictures on it… We got a report from parents in the building, so I covered it with newspaper for now.]
“I never ordered anything like that. Are you sure it’s mine?”
[You’re Yoo Du-seon from unit 412, correct?]
“Yes… that’s me.”
[Good grief. Please take it inside quickly! Or should we keep it at the security office?]
“No, just leave it there. It might not even be mine.”
[We’ll leave it at your door, so pick it up soon.]
“…Alright.”
After hanging up, I thought about it for a long time, but I’d never ordered adult products. Maybe I’d done something while drunk? But even if I blacked out, I’d never messed up with online shopping before.
As I stared at my phone in confusion, Jun scolded me for buying all sorts of weird things online. It must’ve been quiet enough that he’d heard my side of the call.
“What did you buy?”
“I didn’t buy anything.”
“A dildo?”
“Ah, come on!”
I denied it vehemently just as the owner came in carrying the baeksuk. Thankfully, Jun’s interrogation was cut off.
“Stop eating rice and eat the chicken. Tell me if you need more.”
“I’ll help myself if I do.”
“Drinks?”
At the owner’s question, Jun glanced at me.
Which basically meant if we drank, we’d either have to stay the night here or I’d have to drive back. And I had no idea how to handle a sports car like his. Ignoring the panic in my eyes, Jun smiled at the owner.
“Yes, please.”
The owner said he’d made some infused liquor just for Jun and stepped out to get it.
“Hey, no. What about driving?”
“We can leave tomorrow after we sober up. Or you can drive, Yoo Du.”
“If I crash your car, you’ll be fine with that?”
“Of course not. You’d have to pay for it.”
“Then don’t drink. I have to go back today. I need to check what that weird package is.”
“Isn’t that your problem?”
Unbelievable.
We really couldn’t communicate. I’d briefly thought better of him because he’d taken care of me a little, and now I felt stupid for it. As I sighed inwardly, a thick chicken drumstick landed on my plate.
“Just eat first. It’s not like you have many customers at the real estate office anyway.”
“How do you know that? You drag me to some mountain backwater without asking, then insist on staying overnight after drinking. It’s just like that.”
“Like what?”
“That… Never mind.”
I’d been thinking of the kind of things people say when they’re trying to make moves on someone they like. Stuff like claiming the last bus had stopped running. For some reason, I had a bad feeling he’d say, “Yeah, exactly.”
Even looking at the plump drumstick on my plate didn’t restore my appetite. Why was he doing this to me? First saying he might get hard because of me, now bringing me somewhere like this and feeding me delicious baeksuk—it felt like fattening prey before devouring it.
That thought made me jerk my head up. Across from me, Jun was tearing into the chicken breast like a predator. I could see barely-chewed meat sliding down his throat, and I swallowed reflexively.
Dangerous.
I picked up my drumstick and cautiously took a bite. Regardless of the looming sense of crisis, it was unbelievably good. My instincts took over, chewing and swallowing eagerly.
By the time I’d finished it, another drumstick was placed on my plate. It was the first time in my life someone had given me both drumsticks. This was serious!
Just then, the door burst open and the owner came in, carrying two bottles of infused liquor in his arms.
“This one’s deodeok liquor, and this one’s yagwanmun liquor. If there’s any left, take it home.”
Jun didn’t even glance at the deodeok liquor, picking up only the yagwanmun bottle and examining it. Something like rosemary leaves floated inside. He alternated his gaze between the bottle and me, the corner of his mouth curving like a drawn bow.
Called away by someone outside, the owner told us to eat and rest well before closing the door. With only the sound of birds warbling beyond it, the place felt isolated, like being trapped in a remote house. I grabbed Jun’s hand as he started to open the yagwanmun bottle.
“You’re not really going to drink that, right? I told you, I have to go back today. Don’t.”
“Is that a request? Or an order?”
He’d asked me something like this before. I remembered how he’d wanted to be commanded like a dog. Jun stopped opening the bottle and set it on the table, straightening his back and crossing his arms. The calm gaze he’d worn earlier sharpened instantly.
“If we enter a master–servant relationship, I’ll listen well.”
“…A master–servant relationship?”
What kind of nonsense was that? I stared at him in shock, wondering why he was suddenly trying to make me into a slave.
“Running errands isn’t enough, so now you want to make me your slave?”
“In simple terms, you’d be the master.”
“You’d be my master?”
“No. You. Be my master.”
“Why?”
Most people say, You’re beneath me, trying to put someone under their heel—not tell them to become their master. If a pet could talk, maybe it would say something like that.
“If I’m the master, then you—”
“That part doesn’t matter. If you give me an order, I’ll carry it out. And if I do well, you just give me an appropriate reward. Got it?”
“No.”
“Want me to explain more?”
“No, that’s fine. But why insist on that kind of relationship?”
“When you were ordering me around earlier, I almost got hard. I’m impotent.”
He answered every question plainly, yet none of it made sense. It felt like listening to a foreign language that hadn’t been translated. I tried to process it, then gave up.
“Find someone else.”
I took a sip of water as I said it, noticing his eyebrow twitch upward. He didn’t look pleased. He lightly brushed the tip of his brow with his finger.
“That’s the problem. It doesn’t work with anyone else.”
“Then shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
“That’s what I’m saying—it doesn’t work. They say it’s psychological, not physical. So here’s the deal. If you help me get over my impotence, I’ll give you thirty million won.”
“What!?”
“If we keep trying, won’t it eventually get better?”
When I didn’t answer right away, Jun opened the yagwanmun liquor and poured it into a glass. As he lifted it toward his lips, I shouted.
“Hey! I said don’t drink!”
The liquid that had been trembling near his lips tilted away as he righted the glass.
“Ah, what a waste.”
I almost snapped at him again but clamped my mouth shut. The more I yelled and tried to dominate him, the more that pervert seemed to enjoy it.
