“He bought me an apartment.”

Eunseok rolled his eyes. “What? That’s it? You were his inappropriately young sidepiece, and all he bought you was an apartment?”

“I’m not inappropriately young. I’m an adult.”

“You really look like a slut. My husband. My husband. And all he got for you was some piddly Gangnam apartment. Did you suck him off for a balcony? Jesus, Sungchan.”

“All I’m saying,” Wonbin said, biting his lip, “is that he promised me some money, just enough to tide me over.” He touched Eunseok’s sleeve. It was true that Sungchan had excellent taste — Wonbin was coquettish and sweet, even when he was chasing a goal that Eunseok, an immovable object, wouldn’t budge on. “I’m serious.”

Wonbin’s fingers were bitten and he was wearing black.

“Beneath my trousers,” he muttered, voice frayed from cigarette smoke, “I’m…Look, I’m serious. I have bills to pay. And I really did love Sungchan, even if you find that unbelievable.”

There was no denying how Eunseok reacted to that vague threat of seduction. He was still young enough to remember that chain reaction setting off in his body for almost everything, every touch or word.

“Is that it? You’d blow me for cash?”

“Not if you react like that,” Wonbin said. “Look, just — I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll go.”

“I never said anything.” Eunseok brushed a hair behind Wonbin’s ear. “I guess we’ve both been pretty lonely.”

---

Anton pours himself all over Sungchan like golden liquid. He tanned like an American and smiled cheesily like one too. The sunlounger shifts with his weight.

“The lady over there says you can get a caipirinha for free if you give her a kiss,” Anton said.

“You’re feeling nice today,” Sungchan said.

“You can get a lot more,” Anton said, unable to stop laughing at his own bungled debauchery, “if you kiss me here,” and pointed at his own round cheek.