While the  barbeque dinner progressed, Iseul decided to initiate a round of soju, honoring the tradition and to also ease the awkwardness with the addition of Samuel’s party. She picked up the bottle and performed the customary steps: swirling the bottle, slapping the bottom to mix the contents, twisting off the cap with a practiced motion, and jabbing the neck with the webbing between her index and middle fingers.

Starting with Sun-hi first, the youngest at the table, Iseul poured her glass first. Sun-hi accepted it with both hands.

Iseul then moved to pour a glass for Yunhee, and then Taeung. Both mirrored Sun-hi’s respectful gesture. “Thank you, nuna,” Yunhee said warmly.

Next, Iseul poured for Samuel, despite his position as the boss, following the tradition of serving from youngest to oldest. Samuel accepted it with a slight nod and a courteous smile.

“Thank you, Senior Li,” Samuel said, holding his glass with both hands.

Iseul continued to pour for Yumi, each accepting their glass with the same gesture as Sun-hi, and thanking her.

Finally, she reached Hajoon. “Here you go, Hajoon,” Iseul said, her tone warm and genuine.

Once everyone had their glass, Hajoon took the opportunity to pour for Iseul, covering the bottle label with his hand as he did so. Taeung, sitting nearby, watched with a tinge of jealousy but Samuel discreetly reminded him not to worry about it.

“Thank you, Hajoon,” Iseul said, accepting the glass with a nod of appreciation.

Everyone waited until Iseul had her glass filled before raising their own. With everyone’s glasses filled, Samuel stood up and addressed the table. “As you all know, we’ll be heading to the new Choi Foods headquarters, situated near the strawberry farm in Paju this Monday. We’ll have a chance to test some exciting new desserts and enjoy a bit of a getaway.”

He paused, allowing the words to settle in. “But let’s remember that this trip is also an opportunity to observe the chefs and gather insights that could benefit our work. 

One of you is a designer, the other is a marketing team genius, and I’m seeing… a chef.” Samuel added, his gaze fell on Hajoon.

Hajoon’s throat clenched. That was his desired position when he first applied to work for Choi Foods. He was assigned to the marketing team due to the lack of social media exposure to the company at the time. 

Samuel really did his homework, but acting as if he recognized Hajoon’s talent for cooking won’t wash away the sinful image ingrained in his head.

The group acknowledged the information, some with anticipation and others with a more subdued response. Samuel then raised his glass. “Let’s toast to a successful trip and the new experiences ahead.”

They clinked glasses and took their shots together, the tension of the evening momentarily eased by the shared tradition.

As the soju flowed and glasses were refilled, the initial tension began to dissipate. Samuel’s easy going conversation gradually put everyone at ease, allowing the group to relax and enjoy the evening. The atmosphere became more comfortable, and laughter started to replace the earlier stiffness.

Hajoon, however, had consumed more than his share and was visibly the most drunk at the table. His speech was slurred, and he struggled to maintain his balance. The others began to trickle out, leaving behind only Iseul, Samuel, Taeung, and the increasingly inebriated Hajoon.

Once the room was mostly empty, Iseul, with her characteristic kindness, offered to take Hajoon home. “I can drive Hajoon back,” she said gently, looking at Samuel. “He’s had a bit too much.”

Samuel was quick to interject. “Don’t worry about it, Iseul. I’ve got Hajoon covered,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. His tone was firm but not dismissive.

Iseul hesitated for a moment, concerned for Hajoon’s well-being. “Are you sure, Samuel? He’s in pretty rough shape.”

Samuel’s smile remained unchanged, though there was a hint of impatience in his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll take care of him.”

Seeing the boss’s determination, Iseul nodded, though her concern was still evident. “Alright then. Please make sure he gets home safely,” she said, giving Samuel a last look of reassurance before heading out.

Taeung, who had been quietly observing, suddenly tensed. His face reddened slightly with frustration, and possibly with jealousy seeing how Iseul still looked back for Hajoon. “Samuel, seriously? You’ve already made a mess of the evening, and now you’re saying you’ll handle Hajoon?”

Samuel shrugged, his demeanor relaxed and unfazed. “Instead of starting another one of your antics, you should’ve spoken to nuna.”

Taeung’s patience snapped, perhaps influenced by the soju, his consciousness was hanging on by a thread as well. “You always think you have the answer to everything. What happened to thinking ahead? You’re not the only one here!”

Samuel raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the sudden outburst. “Taeung, calm down.”

Taeung’s voice was slurred, but carried a hint of concern. “What now? You’ll sleep with him?”

Samuel’s smile faltered slightly as he processed Taeung’s words. He sighed and tried to defuse the situation. “Look, I understand you think you might have to speak to grandpa if words get out. But, let me try first.”

Taeung’s frustration didn’t fully dissipate, but he nodded, his expression still conflicted. “You said that a while ago and still, there hasn’t been any progress on how you’ll retrieve the pictures, or recording, whatever the hell he got!”

With that, Taeung turned and left the table, leaving Samuel to drag Hajoon out himself. But he seemed to miss the way out and went to the restroom instead.

Samuel dragged the blacked-out Hajoon out of the restaurant, his movements swift and determined. Once he reached his car, he carefully slumped Hajoon into the passenger seat. With Hajoon sprawled and unconscious, Samuel climbed on top of him, straddling his legs to get better access.

Aside from the smell of food lingering on Hajoon’s hair, a faint aroma of his cologne and cigarette persisted, pulling Samuel into a trance. For a moment, he wanted to dip his nose into the crook of the older man’s neck, to mark him all over and pull him into an embrace like another one of his plaything.

Samuel didn’t care anymore, he wanted to satiate his appetite first. As his hand reached down to grab a handful of Hajoon’s plump behind, his fingers slightly traced along something flat and hard.

“Phone?” He jerked his hand back, trying to move Hajoon onto his side. 

He started to search for Hajoon’s phone, Samuel’s hands moved over Hajoon’s pants pockets. His fingers brushed against Hajoon’s thighs and hips, feeling the warmth and solidity beneath the fabric. He couldn’t help but take a moment to admire Hajoon’s physique, the way his shirt stretched over his chest and shoulders.

Despite the situation, Samuel’s touch lingered slightly longer than necessary, a mixture of curiosity and admiration flickering in his gaze. Finally, he felt the outline of the phone in Hajoon’s back pocket, where his hand was previously. He retrieved it, his hand brushing close to Hajoon’s skin in the process. With the phone now in hand, Samuel sat back, casting one last, lingering glance at Hajoon before focusing on his plan.

Samuel, now holding Hajoon’s phone, tried to unlock it using facial recognition. He positioned the phone in front of Hajoon’s face, carefully angling it to get the best possible read. The screen remained stubbornly locked. Samuel frowned and tried again, adjusting the phone slightly, but the result was the same.

With a wry smile, he muttered under his breath, “You look so fucked out that your own phone doesn’t even recognize you.” He glanced at Hajoon’s face, taking in the tousled hair, the slackened features, and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin.

Samuel couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the absurdity of the situation. “Seriously, I think I’m the fucked one.” He shook his head, feeling a strange sense of frustration, and perhaps, amusement.

Still straddling Hajoon, he considered his options, tapping the phone thoughtfully against his palm. He wondered if Hajoon had a passcode he could guess, but that idea was quickly discarded as fast as it came. Both of them knew nothing about each other, knowing the password to his phone would be a long shot. Samuel’s gaze lingered on Hajoon for a moment longer, noting the rise and fall of his chest.

Those are not pecs… they’re breasts. Samuel gulped, his forehead now covered in a thin layer of sweat too. This looked like a scene out of a cliche porno, and it only turned Samuel on. 

A loud pang could be heard that also shook the car, jolting Samuel off of Hajoon. Taeung finally found his way out of the restaurant, but at that point, he couldn’t support himself anymore, throwing his own body over the hood of the car. 

Samuel sighed, his face could only be described as something similar to a dried fish, as he was really drained having to take care of two drunkards.

Under the weight of the morning's stillness, Samuel moved through the kitchen with deliberate care, cleaning up the remnants of breakfast. The quiet between him and Taeung was heavy, but familiar, each brother wrapped in his own thoughts. Samuel’s concern for Taeung lingered, but he didn’t press, sensing that his brother was not in his right headspace just yet.

Taeung, still feeling the haze of last night’s drinking, leaned against the counter, his eyes occasionally drifting to the window. He wasn’t much for conversation this morning, content to let the silence fill the space between them. His head throbbed slightly, and he rubbed his temples, trying to will away the remnants of his hangover.

When the dishes were done, Samuel set the towel down and cast a glance at Taeung. Their eyes met briefly, a flicker of understanding passing between them. Without a word, Samuel stepped away, heading down the hall to check on Hajoon.

He moved quietly, pausing at the doorway to Hajoon’s room. The older man was still fast asleep, his breathing steady and deep. Samuel stood there for a moment, watching Hajoon with a mix of emotions—relief that he was resting, concern for what lay ahead, and a lingering uncertainty about the evidence. He didn’t linger long, knowing there was little he could do at the moment.

Back in the living room, Taeung had settled onto the couch, staring vacantly at the unlit television. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, a small sign of the restlessness that simmered beneath his calm exterior. Samuel returned to the room and sat down across from him, the chair creaking slightly under his weight.

The room was quiet except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Samuel watched Taeung for a moment, noting the tension in his brother’s posture, the way his gaze seemed distant. There was so much left unsaid between them, but Samuel wasn’t sure where to begin, or if Taeung even wanted to talk. Instead, he let the silence stretch, hoping it might bring some semblance of peace.

After a while, Samuel stood up and walked back to the kitchen. He busied himself with making coffee, the familiar ritual a small comfort in the otherwise heavy atmosphere. The scent of brewing coffee filled the air, warm and inviting, and he poured two cups when it was ready.

He brought one over to Taeung, setting it down gently on the coffee table before taking his own seat again. Taeung mumbled a quiet thanks, lifting the cup to his lips. The warmth of the coffee seemed to soothe him slightly, though the underlying tension remained.

The two brothers sat together in that quiet space, sipping their coffee and staring out the window, each lost in their own thoughts. There was no need for words; their presence was enough for now.

Samuel leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely intertwined. His brow was slightly furrowed, the seriousness of what he was about to say evident in his expression.

The older brother’s voice was calm but edged with concern as he broke the silence between them. “There’s been a lot of coercive conversions going on at our old university,” he said, his eyes fixed on Taeung. “High-league universities are entranced by those preachers.”

As he spoke, Samuel’s gaze never wavered. His eyes, usually steady and confident, now held a mixture of worry and protectiveness. He was trying to gauge Taeung’s reaction, searching for any sign of how his brother felt about what he was saying. His jaw tightened slightly as he waited for a response, his concern deepening with each passing second of silence.

Taeung, however, didn’t meet Samuel’s gaze directly. Instead, he stared at a spot on the floor, his expression distant and unreadable. He was usually reserved, but this time, his silence felt heavier. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his hands clasped together in his lap as if he were holding something back. There was a tension in the way he sat, a tightness in his posture that hinted at the unease he was trying to suppress.

Samuel sighed softly, his shoulders slumping just a little as he leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t used to seeing Taeung this withdrawn, and it only heightened his concern. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the side before he spoke again.

“You go to the church,” Samuel continued, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s your own business, of course, but don’t let the uncles and aunts around you pull you in further.”

As he said this, Samuel’s expression softened. There was a hint of pleading in his eyes, a silent request for Taeung to understand what he was hinting, what he was worried about. 

Taeung finally lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting Samuel’s for the briefest of moments. His expression was guarded, his face betraying little of what he was truly feeling. But there was something in his eyes—a flicker of uncertainty, perhaps—that suggested Samuel’s words had struck a chord. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, the words not quite forming.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken thoughts. Taeung’s hand tightened around the edge of his shirt, a subtle sign that Samuel couldn’t quite grasp what it was. He didn’t want to brush off Samuel’s concerns, but he also wasn’t sure how to address them. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, acknowledging Samuel’s words without committing to anything.