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You had met your roommate through a mixture of luck and desperation.
Some years ago, you were struggling to find an apartment that was both, a) near your work, and b) within your budget. Such was the story for the majority of young people in that magical yet back-breaking city.
You both loved and hated New York. The cityscape at night took your breath away every time, but the cost of living was always the biggest thorn in your side. How were they charging half your paycheck for a shoebox?
You had considered going home, but the thought of returning to your humdrum small town filled you with dread. You’d leave it as your last resort.
When all else had failed, in a final effort to find a place before your current lease ended, you checked Craigslist.
You scrolled and scrolled, checking prices and details, discarding the ones too far away. Finally, one listing caught your eye, partially for its slightly strange nature and partly because the location and cost were perfect.
It read, “Roommate wanted. Woman only. NO SLOBS!!! $650/month”.
You clicked in to see if there were more details, but they were sparse. All it said is that the apartment was two bedroom, two bath, and the first name and phone number of the lister was at the bottom.
You considered it for a moment.
The fact that it was so cheap was an immediate red flag, especially after you Googled the location and found it to be a new, nice looking building. Two bedroom apartments in that building were going for around $3000 per month.
It had to be a scam.
Yet you couldn’t help yourself. You called the number, because you knew that if you didn’t, you’d be left wondering what-if.
The line rang for a few moments before a man picked up on the other end. “Hello?” Another red flag. A man requesting a female roommate couldn’t be any good.
“Hi, is this…” You squinted at the name listed with the number, afraid to mispronounce it, “Seonghwa?”
“Yes, this is,” the man said. His voice was mellow and deep, carrying a slight accent.
“I’m inquiring about the room available. I saw the ad on Craigslist. Are you still looking for a housemate?”
He seemed to perk right up, eagerly sputtering out, “Yes, yes! Still available. Can we meet to discuss it in person?”
“Umm,” you stalled, starting to regret your decision already. Nothing about any of this seemed normal, and you were starting to worry that if you met this stranger that you’d end up dead.
“There’s a coffee shop by the apartment. We can discuss over coffee, and you can see the place if you’d like,” he said, not even giving you time to respond. “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
You hesitated. Well, it was in a public place. You figured that you could at the very least go meet him. If he gave you a weird vibe, you’d just go home.
Finally, you responded, “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m free. How about 1pm-ish?”
“Okay, great! I will send you the location of the coffee shop.”
You said some short goodbyes and hung up.
He sounded normal enough, although the fact that he seemed so eager to fill the vacancy in his place with a female occupant made you extremely uneasy, especially for that price. There had to be a catch. Anything that sounds too good to be true inevitably is.
Nevertheless, you set out the next afternoon to meet the stranger.
The coffee shop was packed on that day, which would normally irritate you. This time, it gave you a sense of ease and security. Even if this Seonghwa guy was a freak, he surely wouldn’t dare do anything with this many people around.
You sent him a text to let him know you were there and which table you were at. He replied to say he’d be there soon, and asked you to order him a latte, which you obliged.
You idly swiped on your phone as you waited, the pit in your stomach growing.
The soft calling of your name made your head raise. You looked up to see the seat across from you being taken by a young man. The first thing you noticed is how striking he was.
The man had short, cropped dark hair that fell just above his eyes. Said eyes were big and shiny, slightly upturned at the corners, with thick but neatly shaped eyebrows above. He wore a white button up and black slacks, a belt around his thin waist. A single shiny earring dangled from his left ear.
“You’re Seonghwa?” you said in surprise.
“Yes, nice to meet you.” He smiled softly, extending a hand out for you to shake.
You grabbed his hand, which was soft and almost delicate, yet his grip was firm. Everything about this mad had an air of elegance to it, from his clothes to his expressions to his mannerisms.
“Nice to meet you too.” You paused. “So, about the apartment—I need to ask, what’s the catch?”
“The catch?” he repeated with a gently cocked head.
“Yeah, why’s the place so cheap? Roaches? Rats? Is the room a cupboard?”
He chuckled. “No, no. Nothing like that. I know that it’s quite cheap for a room in this area.” He took his first sip of coffee. “It’s because I have a few, hm, rules?—yes—rules, that you’d need to abide by.”
“Such as?”
“First, you need to do your part to keep the shared living spaces clean. I don’t do mess. What you do in your room isn’t my business, but I keep the living room and kitchen quite clean, and I expect you to keep up to that standard. Second, no male companions. You can have your girl friends over, but no more than two at a time. No parties. Don’t be noisy when I’m home. Lastly, I’m away a lot for work, and I need someone to look after my dog when I’m gone.”
You nodded. “I see. Can I ask what’s up with the ‘no men’ thing? You have to understand this looks a little… strange from my point of view.”
“Right, about the dog.” He pursed his lips. “She hates men. She goes absolutely insane and starts barking like crazy if they enter the apartment. I can’t even have my own friends over.”
“Yeah, but, you’re also a…” You stopped yourself. “Well, nevermind.”
There was a moment of silence before he asked, “Do you have any other questions?”
“Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living that you’re gone a lot?”
“Oh, I model,” he said nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, no more interesting than an office job. “Would you like to see my Instagram?”
“Really?” Your eyes seemed to shine with curiosity, and he bit back a smile. “If you don’t mind showing me.”
He pulled the app up on his phone, clicking on his own profile. It was filled with editorials, catwalk shots, and beautiful travel scenery. His life seemed expensive and idyllic, and you felt very plain and boring in comparison. If he was a rainbow, you were the color gray.
“Wow!” you couldn’t help but gasp. “There are some amazing shots here. You’re really good at what you do.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.” He put his phone away. “And what do you do?”
“I work in the finance department at a non-profit. Do a lot of grant writing and stuff.”
“That sounds boring,” he said frankly.
“It is.”
It was dreadfully boring. But it paid you money, and at the very least, you thought the non-profit did some meaningful work. The main downside was that it didn’t pay quite enough, and it was located an hour-long commute away from your current place. By the time you got home most days, it was already nearly 8pm, and you were just burnt out.
You quietly sipped your coffee for a bit longer, making some more small talk with Seonghwa.
He didn’t seem strange. All things considered, he was pretty normal, other than having a really cool job that you were super jealous of. You were thinking in that moment that maybe you’d finally hit a stroke of luck.
“So, do you want to see the apartment then?” he asked.
You followed him back to the complex, which was less than a ten minute walk from the coffee shop. You recognized this area, too. You knew it was a fifteen, maybe twenty, minute journey to your workplace.
It was practically perfect, but you were trying not to get your hopes up. Good things never worked out in your life.
Shortly thereafter, you found yourself in an absolutely immaculate apartment. The living room was neatly decorated with display cases which, to your surprise, you found filled with Lego Star Wars figurines.
“These are cute,” you commented, raising your finger to point at them.
“Ah, don’t touch!” he half-shouted, pushing your hand down. “Sorry. Fingerprints.” He examined the glass to make sure it was just as clean as he had left it.
“Right,” you muttered. He clearly took his cleanliness very seriously.
“This is the empty bedroom,” he told you as you moved further into his place, finding a closed door just to the left of the living room.
The room was pretty sparse, only fit with a full-sized bed and an empty closet. A small but nice bathroom was connected to it. You could already begin to picture how you’d decorate it and create a space for yourself.
“This is a really nice apartment,” you mused as you took in every detail. “Are you sure you’re comfortably only asking for $650?”
He nodded. “I think it’s reasonable, considering my terms. The lease is under my name, and I have no desire to add you to it, so I do hope you understand that should you fail to keep up with your duties, I will ‘evict’ you.”
“I mean, I know I should just be grateful, but keeping the common spaces clean is basic courtesy. A discount of, what, a grand, basically just for watching your dog? It’s kind of hard to believe.”
“And no men,” he reiterated. “If you slack on the cleaning, depending on the extent, I may let it slide now and then. But if you bring a man here even once, I will ask you to leave.” You furrowed your brows at his words, finding him odd for the first time. He cleared his throat. “It’s… very stressful for my Dubu. It’s not good for her heart.”
“Dubu?”
“Yes. The dog.”
“Right, the dog…” you repeated, trailing off.
You hadn’t seen the dog yet, and you started to feel a little uncomfortable. A chill ran up your spine when you remembered you were in an enclosed space with a stranger. For a second, you almost felt worried that you’d been lured into some trap.
That was until a little white dog scurried out of the other bedroom, her tail wagging a mile a minute as she came to greet you. She sniffed at your feet.
You leaned down to scratch the dog behind the ear, and she immediately melted into your touch.
“She’s really cute.” You smiled.
“She seems to like you.” He had his mind made up. “I think you’d be a good fit if you’d be interested.”
You couldn’t hold back your grin. “Are you serious?” You clasped your hands together. “Thank you so much, Seonghwa. I swear I’ll be the least annoying roommate you’ve ever had in your life. I’ll keep the place spotless. I’ll take care of Dubu like she’s my own daughter. You’ll never hear a peep from me. It’ll be like I don’t even live here.”
“Okay, okay, no need for all that.” He chuckled.
“My current lease is up at the end of this month. If I move in by the first, is that alright?”
“Sounds fine. And if you have any questions, let me know.”
And that was how you found the roommate that you had now been living with for a little over two years.
It was perhaps the luckiest thing that had happened in your young adult life. The cheap rent meant that you had saved yourself quite a decent chunk of money. In fact, you were starting to think that if you could keep it up for a few more years, maybe you’d be able to buy a house in this lifetime.
Seonghwa had also become one of your closest friends. At the beginning, you weren’t sure about how the relationship would go. You were often nervous that you’d find out he was insane or that he’d kick you out on a whim.
But nothing of the sort happened. Sometimes he’d be home a lot between jobs, and you’d talk or eat meals together. On occasion you’d take Dubu for a walk together. (You really loved that damn dog, too.)
Other times he’d be gone for long periods, and you enjoyed the solitude just as much.
It was peaceful. You were grateful.
The only true downside was the ‘no-men’ rule. Having to tell your dates that they could never come to your place, ever, was quite the damper on your love life, but you were willing to sacrifice it.
Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Well, that’s what you thought, anyway.
Actually, there was one little secret that Seonghwa had been keeping from you for these years.
Dubu wasn’t afraid of men. In fact, she liked everyone, but you had fully believed Seonghwa’s story that the canine would be stressed into a near heart-attack if any other male ever entered your living space, and that Seonghwa was the only exception.
The reason he really had this rule and the reason the rent was so cheap is because from the beginning he was just trying to entice a stand-in girlfriend.
It had been a long time since Seonghwa had had a girlfriend, and in his own desperation, he formed this plot. If he could find a roommate that he liked, it would surely cure his loneliness. Right?
You were his companion of sorts. You'd always be there waiting for him to come home. It felt less lonely with the warmth of another human filling his space, and he just liked the presence of a woman in his life. The soft tone of your voice and the smell of your flowery perfumes were something that made him calm.
He was terribly lonely yet equally afraid of intimacy, and at the time this had felt like the best solution. He’d never tell anyone that for fear of sounding insane, and perhaps he was.
When he’d come home and find you there, curled up with the dog in your shared living space, he felt it was well worth a few white lies and footing most of the rent.
He was enjoying all the things he liked about having a girlfriend without any of the things he didn’t. The thing he didn’t like was, namely, sex.
It’s not like he was asexual. He had what he considered to be a pretty average sex drive. He had desire and masturbated semi-regularly.
He just couldn’t seem to enact it with a partner. His performance anxiety was so bad that he couldn’t even stay hard in front of someone. Deterred by this, he hadn’t even tried to be with someone in some three or four years. He couldn’t remember anymore.
The last time he was dating, intimacy or the lack thereof ruined everything. Outside of the bedroom, they were totally compatible, but sex is a big piece of the relationship puzzle for most people. When it’s missing, things start to fall apart.
He tried his best. He did. But the look of disappointment on her face when he took off his clothes and revealed that his facilities were a bit lacking was bad enough, and the “are you gonna put it in?”, “it’s already in” was the final nail in the coffin.
He wasn’t even sure when a few bad experiences turned into this full blown fear of all things sex.
He’d even tried to find people with a fetish for that, but that made him feel icky, too. He didn’t want to be fetishized. He just wanted to be accepted. At times it felt like that just didn’t exist for him.
So he found you.
He knew it wasn’t not normal nor healthy, but it helped him get by. It felt like a ticking time bomb waiting for the day you would inevitably tell him that you had someone in your life and you were moving out.
He loved you in silence. You had no idea.
You didn’t take notice of the little touches that lingered, the soft pressing of his hand on your lower back or the brush of shoulders when you sat together.
It wasn’t something that had ever crossed your mind. Of course, you knew Seonghwa was handsome. That felt more like a fact than an opinion. He was a tall, well dressed model with a pleasant personality. You were pretty sure he could have anyone in the world, so you knew that wouldn’t be you. To think that he would settle for someone as ordinary as yourself was laughable. If you looked up ‘plain’ in the dictionary, you’d find your own picture.
It’s not that you were ugly. You were just average. You were comfortable with this, and you had no problem dating other regular people.
You weren’t interested in trying to punch up and embarrass yourself, so you always thought of Seonghwa as nothing more than a friend and a roommate. You didn’t dare to even entertain the thought of it.
You never recognized the longing in his eyes when he looked at you. It grew over time.
In fact, he didn’t even expect to like you this much. He’d interviewed several young women of various occupations and levels of attractiveness. As harsh as it sounds, he thought you’d be a good fit because you were so unremarkable. He thought that you’d be pleasant enough to enjoy without being too much of a heartbreak when you left.
How wrong he was.
You were so much worse for his heart than anyone else he’d ever encountered. Often, he’d had these bright, white hot flares of infatuation that burned out just as quickly as they began.
But his affections for you started as a kindling, flames licking at his feet before they inch by inch swallowed him whole, the warmth building so slowly that he didn’t realize until it was far too late.
At some point, he had accepted that he was in love with you. You’d become his favorite person in the world, and you had no clue.
He’d gotten used to the longing. Its ache was sweeter than that of loneliness.
You didn’t notice anything was off until the day the kitchen sink backed up.
It was Seonghwa in the kitchen when it happened, murky water slowly creeping up into the basin. He cursed under his breath and tampered with it to no avail, finally giving in and calling the plumber.
It didn’t even cross his mind once that he’s supposed to have a terrified dog that goes berserk at the sight of any man, and some 30 minutes after he made the call, he let a man into their apartment without locking Dubu up in his room first.
The sound of the door opening alerted your attention. You looked to see what it was and were shocked to find Dubu happily greeting the plumber, tail wagging with joy.
You and Seonghwa exchanged a glance. He looked away, putting on his best poker face. If you didn’t make him address it, he’d happily pretend like nothing happened.
But, of course, the first words out of your mouth after the plumber left were, “That was weird. Is our Dubu cured of her phobia?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe. But probably not.” Drop it. Please just drop it, he thought.
“Maybe we should try to introduce more new people and see for sure.”
“Nope. I don’t think so. Probably just a fluke.”
“Yeah, but she was so happy just now. I don’t think it would-”
“I said no!” Seonghwa said, his voice raising, a sharp tone that you’ve never been on the receiving end of coming out. “We’re going to keep doing things as normal. That’s final.”
What was he supposed to say? That if you tried to bring a man home he'd have to hold his breath and pray to die?
If it happened outside your shared home, he could pretend not to care. The thought of you with someone else under his own roof made his stomach turn.
“Okay. Sorry.” Your voice was small.
Seonghwa straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just would prefer it if we kept things the same. Okay?”
Slowly, you nodded. “Sure. Okay.”
That was the last thing the two of you said to each other for a couple days. It was tense for a bit. You had the feeling that there was something Seonghwa wasn’t telling you, but it seemed he wasn’t intent on telling you.
Dubu would find her way into your room at night, and you’d stare at the dog, wondering out loud, “What secrets do you know, Dubu? I wish you could speak.” The canine’s eyes were empty.
It’s funny how it all seemed to come unraveling at once.
A mere week or so later, the two of you were walking the dog when Seonghwa spotted one of his work friends, a photographer that he’d worked with quite a few times and considered himself somewhat close with.
Oh, his other secret? He’d been telling people at work that he had a girlfriend and that they lived together. He’d proudly show them your picture, showing you off as his, despite the fact that it was a complete lie. When they’d tell him to bring you to afterparties and get-togethers, he lied and said you were shy.
“Let’s go this way!” Seonghwa suddenly said, trying to steer you in the opposite direction.
“Wha-? Hold up, Dubu’s in the middle of her number two…” The squatting dog looked up with sad eyes.
He tried to turn away and avoid being seen, but his luck had truly run out this time.
“Seonghwa!” the photographer, Jose, called out. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Is this your girlfriend?”
You answered him with, “No, I’m his roommate.” You introduced yourself briefly.
“Ah, roommate.” Jose squinted a little and furrowed his brows. “I thought you said you lived with your girlfriend?”
Seonghwa let out a loud, uncomfortable laugh. “What? No. I never said that.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure you did.”
“Nope. Must’ve been somebody else. We’re pretty busy today, so I can’t stay and chat. Good to see you Jose!” Seonghwa forced a smile and encouraged the man to keep moving along, which he did.
You didn’t say it, but the encounter was weird. Now that you were thinking about it, Seonghwa was kind of weird.
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you commented.
Seonghwa’s nervousness seemed to persist and he mumbled, “I don’t. No girlfriend. Just single Seonghwa. Weird that he’d think that. Must be remembering it wrong. Ha-ha.” The forced laughs were stiff and monotone.
You thought about it for a moment. “Are you afraid to tell me because this means I have to move out soon?” Your mouth formed an o-shape as you thought you had cracked the case.
“No, I’m seriously not seeing anyone!”
You walked silently next to him, your feet dragging a little.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” you said after a while. You weren’t sure which part was the lie, but you could tell there was one there. “I thought we were pretty good friends after all this time. Do you not trust me?”
He swallowed hard. “Listen, the truth is,” pause, “that I sort of,” sigh, “let people think that you’re my girlfriend.”
For a moment, you were sure he was joking, and you let out a laugh. “What? You can’t be serious. You’re not, right?”
The look on his face, something mixed between guilt and shame, told you otherwise. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I understand you’re probably mad and weirded out, but-” but there was nothing he could put after that that made sense.
“I’m not mad. I’m just confused. What benefit do you get out of telling people that I’m your girlfriend?”
“It’s hard to explain.” He sighed again. “I need some time to arrange my thoughts, and I promise I’ll explain everything tonight.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
Silence fell as you walked back to the apartment.
You sat around in the living room for a while, awfully anxious as you waited for the answers to your curiosities. No matter how much you thought about it, you couldn’t think of a logical reason for his behavior.
Seonghwa had disappeared into his room for some hours. You wondered how many thoughts he had that he was arranging them for so long.
That night, he finally found you and sat you down on the living room sofa.
“Right, so.” He wiped clammy hands on the back of his jeans. “Let’s talk.”
“Okay. So…” You stared at him with wide eyes, mentally urging him to just spit it out.
“I won’t beat around the bush. The reason that I have been telling people that you are my girlfriend is because… it makes me feel normal. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t date. Ever. I know it’s not very fair to you, but I like saying that I have a girlfriend so people don’t ask too many questions about my dating life or lack thereof.”
“Oh. That’s it?” You half laughed and half sighed in relief. “You could have just told me that from the start. You had me scared it was something bad.”
“So, you’re not upset?”
“No, I’m fine with that. I don’t mind you letting your coworkers think that. Just don’t keep me in the dark about stuff like that, alright?”
He was stunned. “It’s really that simple? You don’t have any other questions? Thoughts? Comments? Complaints?”
“Why would I complain about people thinking I’m dating a hot and successful man? They must think I have insane charm and charisma to pull you.” You pucker your lips a little and smooth your hair back, feigning cockiness.
“I’m hot?” That was basically all he had heard in that sentence. You had never commented on his looks before, and the casual admission was making his head spin just a tad.
You scoffed and gently smacked him on the arm. “Oh, come on. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just an objective fact. You don’t have to worry about me developing a crush or anything. I’m not that stupid.”
“And why would liking me be stupid?” he quickly followed up, sounding offended.
“You literally just said that you don’t date anyone. Ever. There’s nothing stupider than trying to get with someone who is emotionally unavailable.”
“I’m not emotionally unavailable.” He was nearly pouting now. “I’m a great boyfriend, I’ll have you know. Great for the most part.”
He was upset to think that you wouldn’t even consider it. He didn’t want to actually date because he knew it’d fall apart down the road, but your words cut him deep anyway. He felt some strange need to prove himself.
“Seriously,” he continued. “I’m a good guy, aren’t I?”
“Well, you sure are a good friend,” was your half-agreement.
“So you think I’d be a shit boyfriend?” His hand found its way to his chest, and he looked horrified. “This is offending me.”
“I mean, if you don’t date, you can’t be a boyfriend, so if you aren’t a boyfriend then you can’t be a good boyfriend because you aren’t a boyfriend at all. Yeah. That makes sense, right?”
“No, it’s not that I can’t date. It’s just that I don’t because,” he hummed in thought, “there are some boyfriend duties that I’m not fully equipped to complete. Actually, I’m not a bad boyfriend, I’m an incomplete one. It’s different.”
“See, now you’re confusing me,” you said and frowned. “How are they different? ‘Cause if I say, like, someone tries really hard to complete the boyfriend duty of not cheating but then they cheat anyway, I feel like that’s still a bad boyfriend.”
“Well, I don’t cheat, so.” He crossed his arms. “I just- I just don’t have sex. That’s all. I’m not, like, mistreating the girls I date. They just want me to do that, but I don’t do that, so I’m not a bad boyfriend but also I’m not a totally good one.”
You stared at him. He stared back. You blinked a few times. “All that just to tell me you’re asexual?”
“No, I’m not asexual.”
More blank staring ensued.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure! Do asexual people-?” He made a wanking motion with his hand.
“Woahhh!” You put both hands up. “I’m gonna stop you right there, partner. I don’t need to know about all that. And, even if-” you copied his wank motion, “you could still be ace. I think. Well, It’s up to the individual to decide, I’m sure…”
“I’m not, though. It’s not that I don't want to have sex. I just can’t.” He let out the most exasperated sigh you’d ever heard from him, half a wail. “You wouldn’t get it.”
And you could feel that it wasn’t just banter anymore. You patted the top of his hand and said, “Hey, if it’s something that really bothers you, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”
He shrugged and replied, “I don’t know. It’s even more embarrassing talking about it to a woman.” One that he’s interested in no less.
“Maybe a little female perspective would be helpful. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t pass judgment.”
He seemed tense as he admitted, “I have a lot of performance anxiety. It makes me have a hard time keeping it up with a partner.” His face started to go red. “I do want to date, but I don’t know how to get past that roadblock. To be honest, the real reason I wanted a roommate is because I was lonely.”
You nodded sympathetically. “Have you figured out the source of your anxiety? Maybe you could overcome it if you knew what was causing it.”
“I know what it is, and it’s something I can’t change about myself.” He told you, and you could tell he was considering whether or not to elaborate on that.
Some part of him really wanted to come clean. Maybe he’d feel a bit lighter if he got this secret off his chest. But he was also still gut-wrenchingly in love with you, and he didn’t think he’d be able to take it if you gave him that look, the one of pity and disappointment.
“You swear no judgment? Serious?” he asked.
You held one hand up, palm to him. “Swear to God.”
“The source of my performance anxiety is,” his jaw tensed a bit, “the fact that I kind of have a small penis.”
“Oh, that’s not that bad,” was your immediate and honest reaction. “A lot of people are into that.”
He was a little frustrated as he replied, “I don’t want someone to be ‘into it’. I don’t want it to be a thing. Is there no in between? Why is it either something that’s abhorred or made into a fetish?”
“Well, of course there’s middle ground. You just have to find it.”
“Yeah, well, the search sucks.” He practically grimaced. “It feels like shit when you really like someone, and then you bare yourself to them and in your most vulnerable moment they look at you with disappointment or disgust. It’s the worst feeling in the world. Genuinely. And not to sound full of myself, but I know I'm good looking, and that makes it worse. Everyone has this certain expectation that I'm going to be that full package, perfect boyfriend. It's like, I'm not even sure if some girls like me or the idea of me, and the bad sex seems to really destroy their fantasy.”
You weren’t sure what to say to him because, yeah, that sounded awful, but you also didn’t know how he could avoid that. You had no advice to give. And when he looked at you and saw a familiar look of pity in your eye, his heart felt heavy.
“I feel like I need a cigarette,” he huffed and excused himself to the balcony, leaving you there.
He looked out at the city as he puffed his cigarette, leaning on the railing with one arm. Cool air nipped at the exposed skin on his upper arms and cheeks. His life was objectively good. He had a job he loved, a nice place to live, and financial stability, yet he felt so empty and so incomplete.
Why did it even matter that much to him? He was ashamed to admit that it somehow made him feel like less of a man. Maybe if he just addressed it with confidence, like, yeah, I’m a hottie with a little cock, so what? If he could just do that, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal. Yet he wasn’t sure how to gaslight himself into believing that it didn’t matter.
Out of all the insecurities to have, he wondered why it had to be this one. The fact that he could just hide it away seemed to make it worse because it allowed him to never address it. Instead of working through his shame, he pushed it down and let it fester.
You, meanwhile, considered his confession. It was an uncomfortable topic, sure, but you figured it was worth talking about. You wondered if you should go out and let him know that you didn’t see him differently or something, but none of the words you connected in your head sounded right.
After some time, you decided to follow him out to the balcony.
“Seonghwa.” You placed a hand on his back, but you were at a loss for words.
There was nothing you could say that made sense, so you just wrapped your arms around him and hugged him from behind. He dropped his cigarette in surprise, the lit stick falling down the past the stories below.
He twisted around, still wrapped in your arms, to face you. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a hug.”
His hands found your shoulders, pushing you away. “Please, don’t. I hate that look of pity. I don’t want your pity.”
“I don’t pity you. I just thought maybe it would comfort you or something. I’m sorry.” You paused and ran your fingers through your hair. “I don’t wanna keep bringing it up or say too much, but, like, it—that—the small dick thing—wouldn’t be something that bothered me, so, what I’m trying to say is that there’s definitely someone out there for you. I do think you should keep looking. Seriously. You deserve someone who loves you. All of you. And I'm positive they're out there.”
He raised a brow. He had already lit up another cigarette after dropping the first, which hung between his two plump lips. “If it doesn’t bother you, then why keep looking?”
“Huh?”
He shook his head and had to laugh. “You’re awfully dense, you know that?”
“I am not dense!”
He had already put all his other cards on the table, made things awkward. He figured he might as well go all the way. He drew in a deep breath.
“I like you, stupid. Isn’t it obvious?”
The way your eyes doubled in size made it pretty clear that it was not obvious to you. You had never once considered that as a possibility. It seemed impossible, like it defied the laws of attraction, because it kind of did.
“Me? Are you sure?” You ask, double checking you heard right.
“Yes, you. Is that a disappointment or something?”
“No, not at all! I just hadn’t considered that—Actually, can I get a cigarette first?”
“You smoke?” He asked, handing you one.
“No, but I feel like I need to start.” He helped you light it. You pulled a drag off it, and coughed. “Anyway, uh, were you sending signals or anything? This is blowing my mind right now.”
“A lot of them. You’re actually so oblivious. It’s insane.”
“Fuck.” You rubbed your temple. “How long?”
“Year and some change? I don’t know. It snuck up on me. This arrangement was good enough for me, to be honest. I didn’t wanna ruin it.” He finished his own cigarette and put it out. “Even if you happened to return my feelings, not much would change anyway.”
You hummed in thought before saying, “Some things would change. You could tell people you have a girlfriend and not have it be a lie.”
“Yeah, well, I decided that wasn’t worth the risk of fucking up a good thing.”
“Yeah, this is a pretty good thing we have going, huh? We make damn good roommates.”
You both leaned against the balcony railing and laughed. You glanced over at him. The wind rustled his black hair, blowing it away from his eyes and exposing his forehead. He looked like a poem, so graceful without even trying.
“So should I just be your girlfriend then?” you questioned suddenly. “If nothing changes, I mean, that’s no skin off my ass.”
“Yeah, and what happens when you get sexually frustrated?”
“To be completely honest with you,” your eyes met as you deadpanned, “there is nothing a man can do that my vibrator can’t.”
He laughed, though the fleeting mental image your words gave him made his mouth go a little dry. “Fair enough. There’s no take-backs on the girlfriend thing, by the way. You might be stuck here forever now.”
“Awesome, I was hoping you’d let me stick around for at least a few more years,” you told him as you opened the sliding door, and Seonghwa followed right behind you with a grin on his face.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that nothing had changed.
Seonghwa as a boyfriend was pretty similar to Seonghwa as a friend. You spent time together, chatted, and walked Dubu. Most of your day-to-day life was the same.
You did, however, find that boyfriend Seonghwa was a little clingy, perhaps. He was touchy in a casual way. He always wanted to hold hands or link arms or rest his head on your shoulder.
And he liked to kiss.
It didn't matter where you were or what you were doing, if he suddenly felt the urge to peck you on the lips, he had no shame in asking for it.
If you forgot to give him one before you left for work in the morning, you’d receive a text message very shortly after, reading, “you forgot my kiss”.
They were mostly very short and chaste, a fleeting connection of your mouths, nothing worth writing home about. Only every so often he’d meet you with something longer, deeper, his hands gripping you hard. Those took your breath away, left you wanting more, but you never admitted it.
Another thing that changed is he suddenly wanted to bring you everywhere. He loved to show you off at any chance he got.
You were admittedly apprehensive when he wanted to bring you to one of his runway shows and the afterparty. To make you feel a bit more comfortable and help you fit in, he bought you a nice outfit and had one of the stylists make you up.
It was out of the ordinary for you, but you couldn’t deny that you felt beautiful.
The show was breathtaking, filled with artistic fashion pieces worn by tall, leggy models. Each detail shone under the stage lighting. Seeing Seonghwa in his element was amazing, too. You’d seen photos, but you’d never had the privilege of watching him walk the runway in real time, which he did with such grace.
Your boyfriend was truly something extraordinary. You must have been a saint in your last life to deserve him in this one.
He paraded you around with pride at the afterparty, more interested in hearing people praise you than himself. He didn’t want to hear that he walked the show well. He wanted to hear that everyone thought his girlfriend was sweet and charming and lovely. Which you were.
And he was just so happy.
You both drank champagne, chatted and laughed. It was a joyous night, and all your anxieties of being seen as not good enough for him melted away. Nobody was stuck up like you had feared.
“You two are just a darling couple,” one of the designers gushed. “I’m so glad she finally agreed to come meet us all.”
“Thank you for welcoming me. Your work is amazing.”
You exchanged more pleasantries with her as well as many others, genuinely enjoying the night. Seonghwa’s hand seemed to never leave your waist. You were his pride and he wanted to make sure everyone knew that.
By the end of the night, you were both good and tipsy, and you took a cab home.
Seonghwa slipped his leather shoes off, sighing, “Finally. I can’t wait to get out of these clothes.”
“I know,” you agreed. “The boning on this dress is killing me. Can you help unzip me?”
He was already out of his jacket, which he momentarily hung on the coat rack. He was left in his white button up, which was open a bit to expose some of his chest.
He slowly unzipped your dress from the back, feeling waves of desire coming over him as the skin of your back became bare in front of him. He trailed a single finger down your spine, which made goosebumps sprout up in its wake.
The alcohol he had drank made him feel bold. He laid a kiss where your neck met your shoulder. It wasn’t chaste like normal, it was wet and open mouthed, his teeth grazing ever so gently.
His hands were on a journey. They moved from your back to the front, touching from just under your breasts, down your stomach to the waistband of your panties and back up again. He groped greedily at the flesh while he continued to work on your neck.
You melted into his touch, heat growing between your legs when gripped your hips or pressed on your stomach.
You had long since dropped your dress, which pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He spinned you around to look, to admire, to marvel at you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a soft, husky voice before his lips met yours.
The two of you were connected at the mouths, meshing softly. His hands were hot as they traveled over you, memorizing every inch. That being said, you were chilled standing half-naked in the entry way the way you were.
You pulled away to complain, “I’m cold.”
“Ah, right.” He cleared his throat, suddenly very aware that while he was fully dressed, you were quite bare. He’d gotten a bit carried away. “Why don’t you go get dressed.”
“Mm,” you hummed in agreement. “But Seonghwa?”
“Yes?”
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” You asked, leaning closer into him again.
“Yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask. See you in bed then?”
You nodded and parted ways, going to your own bathroom to get washed up and change into your “pajamas,” which were no more than an oversized T-shirt and a pair of comfortable underwear.
Most nights, you turned into your own bed, though you had joined Seonghwa in his a couple times before. Your work and therefore sleep schedules could be quite different, so it was just easier to sleep separately most of the time.
By the time you were done getting ready for bed, you retreated back to Seonghwa’s room to find him already in bed, eyes drooping.
While you slept in whatever was comfortable, Seonghwa always wore matching sets to bed. You found him such a princess at times. On this night, he was wearing a blue silk set, which consisted of drawstring pants and a button up top.
“How do you sleep in these?” you asked, touching the hem of his shirt. “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
“It’s silk,” he simply stated.
“Yeah, but pants. In bed?”
“As opposed to? These underwear that the mice in your closet have chewed holes in?” he shot back, a finger poking at the hole that was worn in the thigh of your boyshorts.
“I don’t have mice in my closet.” You smacked your lips. “Perhaps they’re a bit old, but that’s why they’re comfortable. Nice and broken in, you know?”
“In what world do underwear need to be broken in?”
“I wouldn’t expect someone with no ass to understand.”
He wrinkled up his nose and sputtered, “Excuse me?! My ass is just fine.” He let out a ‘hmph’ noise and turned away from you. “Anyway, it’s not like I wear these every night.”
“Are you sure? I’ve never seen you in anything else.”
“Well, yes, because I only wear them when you sleep over,” he explained in a soft voice. “I can’t be looking a mess in front of my lady. How embarrassing.”
“I didn’t know there was a dress code for bedtime. Is there still time to change into my Sunday best?”
“Stop,” he whined, drawing the vowel out. “There’s no ‘dress code'. I just like to look my best when I’m with you. Is that wrong?”
“Of course not. I’m sure what you normally sleep in is fine, though.”
“The thing is that I usually don’t sleep in much at all.” He paused and looked around awkwardly before continuing, “I didn’t want you to assume anything.”
“I get that, but you can just communicate with me instead of assuming that I’m going to assume something. Sleep however you feel most comfortable, Seonghwa.”
He slowly rose from bed and began unbuttoning his top. His back was turned to you as he peeled the silk off his body. You watched curiously at the way his back muscles flexed beneath his skin, admiring the slope of his body. He neatly folded the article of clothing before doing the same with his pants.
You looked away before he turned back around, pretending to be busy looking at your phone. You didn’t look up until you felt the bed sink in next to you once again.
He stretched out in bed, a half smile on his lips.
“Better?” you asked.
“Better,” he agreed.
You couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes scanned over his bare chest, which was peaking out past the covers. His shoulders were softly broad, as was his chest. Even his nipples, small and slightly dark in color, seemed much prettier than the average person’s.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“Sorry. You have a very nice body.” You blushed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable. And thank you for the compliment.” He reached toward the panel near the bedside that controlled the lights. “Mind if I turn the lights out?”
“Go ahead.”
The room went dark.
After a few beats of silence, Seonghwa said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you ever think about me in a sexual way? Like, imagining things.”
You chuckled nervously in response. “Why do you ask?”
“You can’t answer a question with a question,” he told you in a monotone voice. “The correct options are yes or no.”
“Well, yes. Do you not want me to?”
“No, I don’t mind if you do,” he answered, and you seemed to finally be able to let your breath out. “I’m just curious about what you think about.”
“Just… normal stuff,” you stuttered, stumbling over your words.
“Can you be more specific?”
“No, I can’t. This is a really embarrassing question, Seonghwa.” Did he expect you to give a detailed speech about how you imagine he eats pussy? You’d rather die.
“I’m just curious.”
“Curious about what? Ask specific questions to get specific answers. Otherwise, I’m going to sleep,” you huffed.
“Like, do you imagine my penis big or small?”
“Well, you told me it’s small, so I imagine it small.”
“And in your fantasies, that doesn’t ever turn you off?”
“Of course not. That’s not even the focus anyway. I fantasize more about- about-,” you stuttered, unable to get the words out. “Oh, forget it. It’s not important, anyway.”
“No, tell me. About what?”
“About what your face would look like when you’re cumming or how you’d sound moaning in my ear. Stuff like that,” you admitted shyly.
The silence that followed after felt heavy on your chest. You suddenly couldn’t breathe as you waited for him to say something.
“I see,” he finally uttered.
From the other side of the bed, his heart was racing. Blood rushed south at your words, and he was half-hard already. He inched closer to you, a hand reaching out to rest on your hip.
“I think,” he began, his heart now pounding like a hammer, “I’d like to try being more intimate, if that’s something you’re interested in.”
“Yes, uh, yeah. I-I’m interested,” you replied, completely failing at your attempt not to come off as too eager.
He gently brushed your hair off your neck, lips meeting the waiting skin. At the same time, he gently groped your breast, and you let out a shaky breath. When he rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger, the softest moan escaped your lips.
He felt a little awkward, like he wasn't quite sure what to do with you, just testing the waters. He was terrified to mess up and turn you off or push you away, but his desire was stronger than his fear.
His cock was already fully erect, brushing up against your ass. You leaned into him, your hips moving against him on their own accord.
He traveled down until his fingers met the top of your mound. He hesitantly rubbed you over your underwear. You were half panting by now, each draw of breath feeling laborious. You didn’t want foreplay. You wanted to fuck.
“Seonghwa…”
His hand moved away as if zapped by an electric current, and he in a voice full of worry asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No! Nothing. I’m just wondering if you… want to go all the way tonight?”
“Uh, maybe. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t think I can wait anymore,” you told him, and in the blink of an eye, you had pushed him back into the bed, moving to straddle his waist. “I’m asking if I have your permission.”
He gripped your hips, toying with the hem of your underwear. “If that’s what you want, then yes.”
It was a quick process of shedding what little clothes you had left.
You wrapped your fingers around his cock to get a feel for it. As expected, it wasn’t big. It was short and slightly fat, not much longer than the length of your fist.
Before he could even react, you lined him up with your entrance and sank down. He let out a groan at the sensation of your warm, wet walls swallowing him up.
And you started riding him. There wasn’t much room for you to move without making it slip out, so it was more like a grinding movement.
“Oh, my God. Fuck,” he cursed, holding on your waist for dear life. “You feel so good.”
He liked you so much it clouded any other feeling. There was no room to be anxious. The only thing in his brain was, Holy shit. She’s so hot. Her pussy is amazing. I love this woman, and variations of the same sentiments on loop.
“Ah, maybe,” he panted, “maybe slow down a bit. I don’t think I’m gonna last very long like this.”
You stopped your motions. “I don’t mind if you cum fast, but if you do, do you mind turning the lights on? I wanna see your face when you do.”
One of his long arms reached out clumsily, searching for the switch in an almost frantic manner. Then, light illuminated the room, stinging your eyes. He lay beneath you, eyes half-lidded and face flushed red.
You started fucking yourself against him again, and it took barely any time at all for him to come undone.
His brows furrowed and his mouth hung slack as he reached his peak, a beautiful image that you’d keep in your mind for the rest of time. His whimpered moans were music to your ears as you felt him cumming, his seed spilling inside you.
As much as you wanted it to last a little longer, you couldn’t deny the satisfaction that you got hearing your name on his lips in his most blissful moment.
He was your Seonghwa. No one else’s. You were full of pride knowing that you were the one who was able to make him feel comfortable enough to explore sex again, and he came in no time at that.
Finally, you rolled off him and laid out flat on the bed, letting out a laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Your face. Cuter than I imagined.”
He scoffed. “I concede to you this time. You caught me in a weak moment. But next time, you’re gonna get it.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared. What are you gonna do, whimper-in-my-ear me to death?” you teased back.
His eyes seemed to darken as he said, “I’m serious. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I want to do to you.”
"I await your rebuttal, then."