Chapter 6
Tae Igyeol clenched his jaw, his molars grinding as he shoved Mo Eunje’s hand off his shoulder with a sharp glare. But Mo Eunje just smirked, sliding his fingers under Tae Igyeol’s chin and tilting his face up like he was handling something fragile. He puckered his lips, eyes wide in a mock pout.
“Goo-chee-man eun-jje-neun noon ttoo-jja-ma-jja chee-jjeu-dong-kka-jjeu-ga,” he cooed, the nonsense words dripping with exaggerated baby-talk.
“God, you’re insufferable,” Tae Igyeol snapped. “Just order the damn food! One word—that’s all it takes! I’ll pay, and boom, problem solved. Christ, I can feel my brain cells dying just listening to you.”
Mo Eunje’s fingers curled into a playful fist, his grin widening. Tae Igyeol recoiled like he’d just been shown something repulsive. “Get that face away from me. You’re disgusting.”
Mo Eunje, sensing he was pushing his luck, shifted away and plopped back onto the sofa. He pulled up the delivery app. “Cheese cutlet, sirloin cutlet, and spicy chewy noodles? Three items?”
“It’s my money, and I don’t even get a say in what we eat?”
“Fine, I’ll tell them to make the chewy noodles mild. Then I’ll just dump buldak sauce on mine later.”
“……Add cold buckwheat noodles.”
Tae Igyeol’s request was added to the order. Mo Eunje left a note for the restaurant: There’s a big guy who can’t handle spicy food. Please make the chewy noodles mild.
He selected Tae Igyeol’s name from the family account, and the payment processed instantly. Forty minutes until delivery—plenty of time for a shower. Just as he was about to stand, both their phones buzzed with a group chat notification.
***
Ban Hajun invited Tae Igyeol.
Ban Hajun: [Saturday evening, 7 PM, Ritz Ville]
Ban Hajun: [Gifts mandatory]
Ban Hajun: [Call?] 11:41 AM
Gye Minho: [Call✔]
Gye Minho: [I’m getting perfume and cake.] 11:41 AM
***
Gye Minho, ever the pragmatist, had already scoped out prices. Since all four of their birthdays fell in April, they rotated who bought gifts each year. The rule was simple: whoever picked the cheapest gift also bought the cake. The cake was purely ceremonial—just something to stick candles in. Only Mo Eunje and Ban Hajun actually liked sweets, so they usually settled for a small slice.
The birthday boy footed the bill for alcohol and food, which always ended up being the biggest expense. Four grown men could put away a shocking amount of booze and snacks. Tae Igyeol and Mo Eunje’s birthdays were back-to-back, so they usually combined their celebrations. This year, with two birthdays, they’d splurged on top-shelf liquor and premium snacks.
Ban Hajun: [The perfume’s sold out, by the way.]
Ban Hajun: [Now it’s down to sneakers and the most expensive wallet.]
Ban Hajun: [Will Tae Igyeol take the hit again this time?]
Ban Hajun: [Dugudugudugudugu~] 11:42 AM
Gye Minho: [(Drumming duck emoji)] 11:42 AM
Mo Eunje, who’d been staring at the back of Tae Igyeol’s head, typed out a quick reply:
11:42 AM [I’ll take the sneakers.]
He then snatched Tae Igyeol’s phone and handed it to him. Tae Igyeol shot him a suspicious look, but Mo Eunje just shrugged and headed for the bathroom. The faint sound of Tae Igyeol grinding his teeth followed him out.
***
After his shower, Mo Eunje slicked body oil over his damp skin. His skin had always been dry, so he used oil year-round, layering on moisturizer in the winter just to survive. The organic, high-moisture body oil Tae Igyeol’s grandmother had gifted him in high school had become a staple—light, non-greasy, and refreshing.
Tae Igyeol’s bathroom was always stocked with all four scents. Mo Eunje picked the New Zealand-made lavender and sandalwood blend today, the aroma therapy synergy oil spreading subtly from his neck down to his toes.
He towel-dried his hair and stepped out in nothing but bright yellow briefs, pausing in front of the full-length mirror. His abs were actually starting to show. He flexed, watching the shadows deepen, and grinned. Pleased with himself, he strode over to Tae Igyeol, who was slumped on the sofa, scrolling through stock charts.
“Hey, Tae Igyeol! Check this out—abs, right?”
Mo Eunje struck a pose, hands on his hips, flexing his stomach. Tae Igyeol gave him a slow, unimpressed once-over, then tilted his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“……How do you think you have abs when you never work out?”
“What? I do work out. I go to early-morning soccer with Gye Minho every Saturday.”
“Delusional. Gye Minho goes every week. You? Once a month, maybe. You didn’t go last week or the week before.”
“Ugh, whatever. Look! These are abs—hard, defined, the whole deal.”
“……”
“Here, feel them! They’re rock solid—abs are supposed to feel like this, right?”
Mo Eunje grabbed Tae Igyeol’s hand and pressed it against his stomach, flexing as hard as he could. Tae Igyeol didn’t even bother to feel properly before yanking his hand back.
“You want abs? Fine. I’ll work you into the ground starting today. Let’s see if you’re still talking about abs after your muscles scream and your guts twist in agony.”
Tae Igyeol’s mood was already sour, and Mo Eunje could tell he was spoiling for a fight. He decided to tread lightly.
“What’s got you so wound up? Lose money in stocks?”
“……Four million eight hundred thousand.”
Just twenty minutes ago, he’d been bragging about making 1.8 million. While Mo Eunje was in the shower, the market had turned, and now he was down 4.8.
“What happened?”
“Shipbuilding stock spiked 7%, so I jumped in. The second I bought, it tanked. Now it’s down 11%. Why the hell did I touch that one……”
Even monkeys slip sometimes. Short-term trading was a gamble. Tae Igyeol had two choices now: average down or hold. Knowing him, he’d average down and bail fast. Mo Eunje decided to distract him, at least for now.
“No need to stress, giant. Want me to buy you dinner?”
“The delivery isn’t even here yet, and you’re already talking about dinner?”
“Fine, let’s do bossam later. I’ve been craving it anyway.”
As they settled on dinner, Mo Eunje ran his fingers through his damp hair. Tae Igyeol used to complain about the water droplets, but he’d given up long ago. Today, though, his eyes were sharp, scanning for something—anything—to criticize.
“What, are you a caveman? Why are you always half-naked?”
“Wow. Thought my mom just walked in for a second.”
Mo Eunje’s mother, Han Seola, used to say the exact same thing whenever she caught him in just his underwear. Of course, she’d follow it up with a lecture on manners, but the vibe was identical.
Honestly, Tae Igyeol was the weird one—always throwing on a robe or full clothes right after a shower. Ban Hajun and Gye Minho didn’t bother; they just walked around in their underwear at the pension. Tae Igyeol, predictably, would scowl and grumble just like he was now.
“My eyes don’t deserve this. Do you brats have no decency? It’s not like you’re out of clothes. Oh right—you still haven’t unpacked your suitcase. When are you planning to deal with that?”
“Nagging giant, banned.”
“Everything’s ‘banned’ with you.”
“Come on, who puts on clothes right after a shower? You say this every time—don’t you get tired of it? Ugh, I’m done. My ears are gonna fall off.”
“Then if you don’t want to hear it, stop parading around like a caveman. And clean up that eyesore.”
The “eyesore” was the suitcase Mo Eunje had left by the entrance after wiping it down yesterday. He’d probably ignore it until he needed something inside—likely the sweatpants. Tae Igyeol might even end up unpacking it himself out of sheer frustration.
But since Tae Igyeol was already in a foul mood, Mo Eunje figured he’d at least drag the suitcase to the dressing room. He pulled it along, then grabbed a T-shirt and sweatpants from the closet. When a dog was snapping, you didn’t provoke it. He dressed quickly, deciding to keep conversations with Tae Igyeol to a minimum today.
