Beefy Bottom

The clatter of billiard balls echoed through your penthouse—finally, that table was getting some use. Ever since Seonu moved in, the sound had become a familiar rhythm. You sighed, pushing yourself up from the couch, hands buried in your sweatpants pockets.

Slow jazz hummed from the record player—seems Sunbae found it. He was too focused on his game to notice you watching, his body twisting and bending to find the perfect angle. “You need to bend a bit more, Sunbae.”

Seonu flinched, his once-calm gaze snapping to yours with irritation.

“Do you always have to creep up on me?”

Ignoring you, he turned back to the table, as if he took your advice he subtly adjusted his stance—deeper this time. You couldn’t help but smirk.

“Stop staring at me like that. I can feel you.”