“Yes. Would you like to order?”
“One iced Americano.”
“For here?”
“Yes.”
“Please insert your card in front. Do you have our cafe’s stamp card?”
“…Here.”
The man pulled out a stamp card from his wallet and held it out. Eunha took it and stamped it, while absentmindedly noting the man’s wallet and the watch that peeked out from inside his sleeve.
It was a high-end brand product that even a layperson would recognize. Even the outfit that looked like something one could easily buy on the street was actually all expensive items. He could roughly estimate just by looking. Because Jeongho’s “Lee Eunha is a chaebol’s second-generation heir theory” that he brought up whenever he remembered wasn’t actually baseless nonsense. You only see as much as you know, after all.
It would be one of two things. Either he was truly well-off, or he was someone who showed off pretending to be well-off.
Either way, the man’s behavior of never failing to collect his “buy ten drinks, get one free” stamp card was quite incongruous.
Eunha handed over the stamp card. Their fingertips touched fleetingly as he took it.
For a very brief moment, the man hesitated.
Then with tidy movements he finished taking the card and put it back in his wallet.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll have it ready right away.”
Thank you. The man replied again politely in a pleasant low voice. He stepped back a few paces to wait. Before long, he picked up the coffee that came out at the pickup counter. Eunha followed his retreating figure with his eyes.
The seat the man chose was a window seat on the first floor with good sunlight. Today as well, without fail.
Eunha’s personal cafe was a spacious two-story building. Befitting a place in Daehak-ro, the second floor was mostly composed of seats suitable for studying, and most customers preferred it. Only when the second floor was full would the first floor start to fill up. Some would even leave to find another cafe if there were no seats on the second floor.
However, the man stuck to the first floor. He always sat in a position visible from the counter. That is to say, it also meant the man could see Eunha whenever he wanted.
He actually did just that.
Eunha was curious about why the man—that is, the male student attending the university in front of the cafe—came here every day and stayed somewhere around that area before leaving.
No. Actually, he wasn’t curious. Because he already knew.
Not knowing that would make him no different from a fool.
That’s when it happened. Their eyes met as he unconsciously turned his head. The man, who had been watching for who knows how long, twitched the corners of his eyes slightly before obediently lowering his gaze to the notebook spread out on the table.
Eunha naturally turned his eyes away and fell into thought. With his arms loosely crossed, as he watched people passing by through the clean glass window, Jeongho leaned his body over. As if sharing a secret.
“That customer seems a bit strange, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems like he only asks for stamps when you’re at the counter, boss. …Am I imagining it?”
Eunha let out a light sigh. If even a third party noticed, it showed how vividly Eunha himself was feeling the man’s presence.
“…You’re probably imagining it.”
If only that were the only strange thing. Coming every single day and staying on the first floor of all places was already not a normal phenomenon. And what about those subtle reactions that showed whenever their eyes occasionally met.
Jeongho muttered.
“More than that, he’s famous.”
“That customer?”
“Yes. At the school.”
“Why?”
“Just because he’s good-looking. He’s always posted on the appreciation board. So I thought he was in the modeling department, acting department, something like that, but he’s not. Where was it. I think they said it was some department in the art school……”
“Ah.”
Perhaps bored from having free time, Jeongho babbled on about the university community app. Eunha gave appropriate responses while glancing at the man. Strange, huh.
He rubbed with his fingertip the spot where they had briefly touched.
It’s probably devious. He turned his head without any emotion.
* * *
“Fuck, Lee Eunha.”
A vicious curse burst out above his head. It was simultaneous with the man who had laid him face-down lengthwise on the bed, gripping his lower back pressed down with both hands while pounding into his hole, tensing all the muscles in his body rigidly.
He let out a low moan. The lower abdomen touching his buttocks twitched, and then semen burst wetly inside his inner walls. Eunha also trembled at the shoulders as he reached a light climax. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t count how many times it was. His brain seemed to empty out from the repeated orgasms. Eunha liked that sensation of his head turning white. He wanted to stay as long as possible in that all-consuming state where he felt completely mindless, devoid of any thoughts, with a sense of total enervation creeping through his entire body—like he’d become a complete idiot.
As he lay sprawled out, panting weakly, the penis filling his hole pulled out. It made a lewd sound because he’d come inside three times. Not using a condom was quite bad manners, but Eunha didn’t particularly care about such things. The man who had pulled out his penis rubbed his glans over the slick entrance instead of ending the act. He exhaled languid breaths. It was messy afterplay. Eunha quietly let the man use his body as a tool to savor the lingering sensation.
Eventually, letting out a satisfied sigh, he flopped down next to him. He roughly wrapped his arm over Eunha’s body.
“That was good, today too. Ha. Fuck, I feel so refreshed.”
“……Don’t talk like an old man.”
“I’m old enough to be called that now.”
The man giggled. He was thirty-four. Of all things. It wasn’t intentional. However, it might be intentional that he only met partners older than himself. Eunha sometimes thought he was pathetic for that.
The man, Jeong Taegeon, was currently Eunha’s partner. A relationship where they met based solely on physical purposes, excluding emotions. It wasn’t a long relationship. It had only been about two and a half months now. He lowered his hand and grabbed one of Eunha’s buttocks. He kneaded it carelessly, then pulled it apart and firmly pushed his index and middle fingers into the gaping entrance. The fingers stirring through the sticky path were casual.
“It’s full of cum in here.”
“Pull it out then. It’s uncomfortable.”
“It’s all melted inside. Mushy.”
“……”
“I think it’d feel fucking great if I fucked you right now.”
“What do you want me to do about it.”
“Let’s go one more time. I’ll make hyung go crazy.”
“Stop showing off… You used up all your stamina. It’s not like you have more to come out.”
“What the fuck? You’re fucking scratching at me.”
“If it’s not true, there’s nothing to be scratched about.”
“…I have nothing to say about that, do I?”
Trashy laughter burst out simultaneously. Looking at just the vulgar way of speaking, he was no different from some swaggering punk, but seeing how he didn’t care even about words that would scratch his pride made him definitely seem like an adult.
Eunha liked relationships with people like this. Because they were light and clean. Because they understood each other at a touch without having to annotate every single trivial word or action, and their interests aligned. Because they didn’t have to clash emotionally. It was comfortable and convenient.
A relationship with a clear boundary line. A relationship where they shared body heat and relieved loneliness but had zero emotions. It was the kind of relationship Eunha pursued.
However, as with all things in the world, human relationships couldn’t all flow the way one wanted. Like the partner position that changed quite frequently.
Eunha turned his body to the side. Turning his back to Jeong Taegeon, he recalled something from about three months ago. His partner at the time. Someone who had started meeting cleanly by mutual agreement but whose end had been very messy. Someone who no longer even tried to hide their feelings.
The fingers that had been rummaging in his hole scraped out the pooled semen. He quietly held his breath at the faint stirring of sexual sensation. Though it wasn’t a touch filled with much consideration, it also didn’t seem annoyed, and as he silently received that cleanup, he pondered carefully. How much longer could he go on with this person?
