Chapter Text
Choi Soobin doesn’t exactly know how he ended up working at a sex shop, but here he is.
One day, he was discussing professional ethics in his clinical psychology course, and the next, he was explaining the difference between a basic butt plug and a fox-tail-shaped one to a middle-aged lady looking for new post-divorce experiences.
Let’s be clear: Soobin isn’t the type to be easily shocked. He’s seen people cry over an MBTI personality test, witnessed tearful confessions during mock therapy sessions, and even survived six months of internship in the adolescent ward without ever screaming at anyone or breaking down crying between breaks like some of his colleagues.
But nothing — absolutely nothing — prepared him for this.
The store in question is called Pleasure Dome. Soobin didn’t choose it for the name, obviously — though his mother still thinks he works as a receptionist at a wellness center with essential oils and scented candles, and Soobin has zero intention of correcting her.
The truth is, the job pays well (maybe to make up for the discomfort and harassment, but Soobin couldn’t care less). And for someone with his bourgeois hermit nature, the salary was the key to keeping his private bedroom, his very own fridge, and the priceless privilege of not having to socialize with a roommate first thing in the morning or during a frantic study session before exams.
So here he is, four times a week, surrounded by shelves full of objects he hopes to one day analyze with academic detachment — but for now, he mentally labels them as “unnecessarily vibrating,” “way too realistic,” or “this definitely hurts.”
He’s seen grown men cry in despair because their inflatable doll order came with blonde hair instead of brunette, and he’s comforted women convinced that vibrators could cause irreversible psychological addiction.
Over time, he’s grown desensitized.
He no longer even blinks when customers start testing the flexibility of whips on the counter (“Just checking if it’s too stiff, don’t worry kid”), or when boxes arrive labeled in huge bold letters like “REALISTIC MOUTH HOLE, DEEP THROAT ACTION.”
He even survived, surprisingly, an entire group of high school seniors on a field trip (maybe they were lost, maybe it was some new progressive pedagogy) storming into the store like a herd of excited buffaloes in search of who knows what.
His main concern at the time was making sure they didn’t steal or break anything — not so much the fact that there were teenagers with lingering acne roaming around a sex shop.
Once, he found a note inside a lingerie box that said: “Thank you for your trust, we’re sure both your boyfriends will love it.” He kept it. It’s in his wallet, right next to his subway pass.
So yeah, by now, nothing fazes him. Nothing makes him blush, tremble, or feel vaguely human.
He considers that an achievement.
«Having fun?» Beomgyu teases from the other end of the line, the sound of a video game blasting in the background.
«I’m working.» Soobin huffs, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he reorganizes the dildos by color, just like his boss asked him that morning.
Now they’re arranged in rainbow order, red to violet — Pride month theme, because “we want to be more inclusive!” as if selling whips and vibrators wasn’t inclusive enough already. Soobin sighs, exhausted.
«So that’s a yes?» Beomgyu laughs before yelling at his screen so loudly that Soobin winces — clearly, he lost his match because he was too busy teasing him. «Any creepy old dudes hit on you yet today?»
«Three,» Soobin reports flatly, as if correcting him on an important fact. «One even invited me to a swingers’ party, though I didn’t really get what exactly I was supposed to do there.»
«You going?»
«What do you think?»
«Could be an educational experience,» Beomgyu pushes, «think of it as… an exam simulation.»
«Thanks, Beomgyu, but no.» Soobin abandons the cart inside the storage room, locking the door behind him before heading back to the register. He glances quickly at the leather lingerie section to make sure it’s tidy. «I’d rather hold on to the last shred of dignity I have left. I’m too young to lose hope in humanity.»
«Your loss.»
«Would you go?» He sits on the stool behind the register.
The shop windows are tinted, letting in just enough light to give the illusion that it’s evening already. In reality, it’s just a dull weekday afternoon — mostly curious retirees and couples in crisis browsing around.
«What do you think?»
«You want his number?» Soobin asks absentmindedly, pretending to rearrange the water-based lubricants in the dispenser just to keep his hands busy. «He gave me his business card along with his credit card while buying cat ears and glow-in-the-dark condoms, in case I changed my mind.»
«Text it to me,» Beomgyu says, and Soobin hears the sound of a new game starting in the background. «I’ll think about it if I’ve got nothing better to do.»
«Liar,» Soobin mocks him, «Taehyun would never let you go.»
«That’s why I’ll drag him with me,» Beomgyu says tightly, clearly focused on his game. «You said it was a swingers’ party, right?»
«You’re disgusting.»
Before Beomgyu can reply, the little bell on the door chimes, snapping Soobin’s attention back to what he’s supposed to be doing: working. «A customer just walked in, gotta go.”
«Don’t forget to send me the num-» Soobin hangs up before he can finish.
A new customer?
Soobin’s practically a veteran at Pleasure Dome. Most employees quit after just a few months — somewhere between an invitation to a threesome and one too many depraved requests. He didn’t think of them as weak; it could be exhausting dealing with this every single day.
But he’s lasted over two years, training each newbie patiently before they inevitably fled, earning himself the nickname “Porn Priest” among his friends. Soobin plays along with the teasing, even though sometimes reality hits him at the worst possible moments and he realizes just how humiliating it actually is.
Still, he sees himself as a soldier in battle — surviving and reliving the fight every night. A soldier of sex, though.
That’s why he can say with absolute certainty that the customer who just walked in, shooting him a subtle glance with a face — God help him — like an optical illusion, is someone he’s never seen before.
He would remember. Definitely.
Great. Another one with the classic “it’s not for me, it’s for a friend” syndrome.
They’re always like this, guys his age. The moment they realize they’re being served by someone their own age — or, worse, by a fellow university student they never expected to find working here — they always trot out the same excuse.
As if Soobin actually cared.
He’s never judged any customer (except for the lady who mistook the red fire hydrant outside the shop for a dildo: “Perfect size for me!”). But apparently, his face gives off an intimidating vibe.
The stranger glances around a second time before approaching the counter at an unhurried pace, his eyes scanning the shelves and framed posters with quiet curiosity. Soobin gives him a polite bow.
Then he looks closer.
Too handsome to be real. Too confident to be genuine. Too… something.
His gray hair falls messily across his forehead — a bold choice, though it suits him perfectly. Rain must’ve started falling outside without Soobin noticing, because the strands are slightly damp and tousled. Hoop earrings catch the shop’s soft lighting, accentuating his foxlike eyes, naturally red lips, sharp jawline, and flawless profile.
«Hello, do you need help?»
And for the first time in years, as the enigmatic man stops in front of him, Soobin feels warmth creeping up his neck to his ears.
«You’re Choi Soobin, right?» he asks once he’s close enough, lifting his gaze.
«That’s me.»
«I’m Choi Yeonjun, the new hire.» He places a hand on his chest, introducing himself. «I start next week, but the owner asked me to come by today and take a look around.»
Ah, right. Jisoo — their boss and walking stereotype of a sleazy sex shop owner — had mentioned this morning that he’d finished the hiring process.
Ryujin, Soobin’s sharp-tongued coworker who currently study languages at the university, had recently quit after landing a receptionist job at a fancy downtown hotel. “At least I can put that on my resume,” she’d said.
It was a great opportunity for her field, and Soobin was genuinely happy for her. Still, if he was being honest, he was a little sad about it. She’d been the only other person to survive in this shop for more than a few months. Now, he’d have to start all over again.
Sometimes they’d text each other about regular customers — how they’d walk in with one idea and somehow leave with something way worse. They covered shifts for each other without telling Jisoo, and when they did work together, the time always flew by for Soobin.
She’d personally told him she was leaving before Jisoo could break the news, asking to meet at the café next door. “Just one more year, Bin,” she’d said when they hugged goodbye, “then you can quit too. You’ll get to do what you love, and I’ll come to you so you can heal all the trauma this place has left me.”
A "see you later", not a "goodbye". She’d repeated it more times than Soobin pretended to believe, smiling as they parted ways.
«Sure, let me show you around the shop.»
«Thanks.» His voice is steady, confident.
Soobin leads him toward the first aisle. The shop isn’t huge, and the stockroom’s relatively small, but it can feel overwhelming for a first-timer — especially when a customer asks if vegan inflatable dolls exist, or when you have to explain to a couple why vaginal balls shouldn’t be used while cycling.
«This is the BDSM section,» Soobin explains, stopping beside a wall of handcuffs ranging from sparkly to plain designs. «Everything related to BDSM is here. In the back, we’ve also got some guidebooks-»
«Guidebooks?» Yeonjun interrupts, curious. «Like Fifty Shades of Grey?»
«Calling Fifty Shades of Grey a BDSM guidebook is like saying a stickman version of the Kamasutra counts as hardcore porn.»
Not that Soobin has ever actually read the Kamasutra… okay, maybe he’s flipped through it a few times between aisles when no customers were around. More like looked at rather than read. Pure professional curiosity.
«Got it, little masochist.» Yeonjun rolls his eyes, though a smirk gives him away. «I’ll never blaspheme like that again.»
«Now-»
«Look at these!» He interrupts again, reaching up on tiptoe to grab a pair of dark red, velvet-lined cuffs to show Soobin — as if Soobin doesn’t work here every day. «Aren’t they gorgeous? Do they make noise?»
Why does he even care?
The cuffs dangle effortlessly from his fingers, the way most people twirl their house keys. And he smiles — but not just any smile. The kind that spikes your serotonin and tanks your IQ.
Soobin swallows. Twice.
«Velvet-lined cuffs are usually silent,» he says firmly, reciting the manual-like phrases Pleasure Dome has drilled into him. «Ideal for anyone with thin walls between neighbors.»
«Would you say they’re better for beginners, or should someone go straight for steel?»
The heavy silence that follows feels more like Soobin is talking to a customer than to his future coworker.
Soobin wants to believe these questions are purely for learning how to guide customers correctly, to help them make the best choice. Yeah. He wants to believe that. But those curious foxlike eyes tell a different story.
«It depends on their experience level.»
Yeonjun nods, seemingly satisfied, and steps just a bit closer. Too close. From here, Soobin can smell his aftershave, his cologne — the scent this guy probably puts on every morning.
«You know so much, huh? Did you study erotic marketing, or is this just natural talent?»
What? They’ve only covered the first aisle, and there’s still the whole store to go. Soobin blinks, unsure if he’s being teased or not.
«Psychology. Last year.» Soobin answers, because… why not? This guy will be his coworker, at least until he gets sick of explaining the difference between a butt plug and an anal douche.
«Oh, so you could diagnose me with a personality disorder while I ask about lubricants. So hot.»
Okay, everyone has their own turn-ons. What’s sexy for one person can be revolting for someone else. But this? This borders on ridiculous.
Soobin gives him a long, calculated look — a mix of disdain and professionalism. «The narcissism diagnosis would be too easy.»
Yeonjun’s jaw drops in mock surprise before he bursts out laughing.
«Touché.» He winks — not ironically, though it comes off more like an awkward flutter of lashes than a smooth flirt.
Soobin hides an amused smile.
«Let’s move on.»
«Lead the way.»
Yeonjun puts the cuffs back and clasps his hands behind his back, swaying like an overgrown child in an adult playground. Literally.
«Are you in university too?» Soobin asks, just to make conversation. Yeonjun’s smile fade a little at the question.
«Actually, no.» he admits with a small laugh, like it’s somehow embarrassing to be here by choice instead of, like most broke college students, out of desperation for money to eat something decent once a week. «Already graduated.»
«So this is… a hobby?» Soobin asks, trying to lighten the heavy silence between them. «I think of it as a kind of internship — just, you know, without the ethical code.»
«Why? You study the customers like psychological case studies?»
«Something like that.» Soobin nods slowly.
«Makes sense.» Yeonjun smiles, and the mood lifts slightly.
From the corner of his eye, Soobin notices him studying him intently as they walk. «Do the customers know you’re a psychology major?»
«Hell no.» Soobin shudders. «Somehow a few of them found out once — don’t ask me how, I still don’t know — and they wouldn’t stop asking for advice, holding impromptu therapy sessions between aisles like I was their personal free psychologist.”
«That sounds awful.»
«It was awful.» Soobin says firmly, shaking at the memory — which only makes Yeonjun laugh.
«Okay, say a customer walks in and needs your expert advice as a future psychologist.» Yeonjun begins as they pass shelves lined with latex ropes and feather ticklers.
«You’ve been here for five minutes, Yeonjun-ssi, and I’d hate to see you go so soon, but if you tell anyone what I’m studying-»
«It’s hypothetical!» Yeonjun insists, half-laughing.
«Fine.» Soobin narrows his eyes, suspicious but willing to play along. «A professional consultation for…?»
«I don’t know, maybe a customer who has a special date and wants to buy something that says, "I’m capable of emotional commitment."»
Soobin stares at him, utterly baffled.
«A sex toy that communicates empathy,» he mutters, turning toward the next aisle. «Sure. That’s over in the unicorn fantasy roleplay section, next to the glitter plugs.»
«Sharp tongue you’ve got there.» Yeonjun’s grin turns dangerously mischievous. «Are you trying to impress me? Because if you are, it’s working.»
Soobin almost fires back something sarcastic — like, “That section is flashy just like you, you’d fit right in.” — but the words die on his tongue when Yeonjun turns away to look around.
Soobin follows at a steady pace, his tone flat as he explains how the toys are organized: dildos first, then vibrators, and finally specialized sections for women’s and men’s pleasure.
«Always stay nearby when a customer comes in,» Soobin instructs, «close enough to help if they need you, but not so close they feel embarrassed to browse. Privacy is everything in a sex shop.»
«Got it.»
Yeonjun strolls down the aisle with the casual air of someone browsing a gourmet restaurant menu, not shelves full of clit stimulators and cock rings. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular.
He looks perfectly at ease here — like this isn’t his first time in a shop like this, or his first time seeing any of these things.
«Classic vibrator or one with a remote control?» he asks suddenly, stopping Soobin in his tracks.
«It depends on whether the customer wants control or submission.»
«And what if they want both?» Yeonjun steps closer, his grin turning downright bold. Somehow, Soobin finds himself trapped between pheromone-scented candles and penis-shaped wax. «What about you, Soobin? Handcuffs or vibrator?»
Soobin whirls away — not to run, just to breathe.
«Well, according to Freud, choosing handcuffs over a vibrator would just be a clear return to a repressed Oedipal complex,» he rattles off, flustered. «But hey, no judgment — vibrators are currently 30% off.»
«Freud, huh?» Yeonjun backs off with a laugh, but Soobin doesn’t miss the way his gaze sweeps him head to toe before he bites his lower lip.
In the next aisle, Soobin stops in front of their selection of massage oils. «Here you’ll find all the accessible stuff — things you could technically get at a supermarket, but we’ve got more variety and higher quali-»
«Does this one have a neutral scent,» Yeonjun interrupts, «or will you end up smelling like a strawberry candy after using it?»
Soobin blinks at him, thrown off. For a second, he wonders if this is some kind of test to see whether he can keep calm and professional under pressure. Because this guy is very, very good at testing his patience. Where the hell did Jisoo find him?
Reluctantly, Soobin steps closer and grabs the bottle Yeonjun pointed to, reading the label aloud. «Citrus and pink pepper. No candy effect. At worst, you’ll smell like a really horny herbal tea.»
«Perfect.» Yeonjun nods and scans the rest of the shelf. «Would you use it?»
«Not with you.»
The quip slips out before Soobin’s brain can stop it, and regret floods him the instant the words leave his lips.
One beat of silence. Then Yeonjun grins so wide Soobin swears he’s just made the guy’s day.
«So there’s hope.» Yeonjun teases, voice low and flirtatious.
«There’s no hope.» Soobin corrects flatly.
«I love a challenge.» Yeonjun counters smoothly.
They lock eyes, the air thick with something Soobin can’t name. He realizes they’re playing a game whose rules he doesn’t know — and somehow, he’s already losing.
«Any other genius questions?»
«Actually, yeah. Where are the lubricants? You never know.»
Grateful for the chance to turn away, Soobin gestures toward the nearby shelf and leads him over, carefully explaining the options.
«These water-based ones are the safest. Suitable for pretty much everything. Always understand the context before suggesting a product — vaginal lubricants don’t always work for anal sex.» He points to the display. «We also have travel-size versions at the register, for customers who want something discreet to carry around. There are also mini condom packs-»
«Suitable for everything, huh?» Yeonjun cuts him off, raising an eyebrow as he picks up a pink bottle labeled lemon-mint. Soobin nods, but Yeonjun’s focus stays on the lime-green label as if he hadn't heard a word from Soobin.
«Great. I like versatility.» Then his eyes lift, sharp and knowing. «And you, Soobin — are you versatile?»
Soobin chokes, coughing violently as his head snaps toward him. «Excuse me?»
«I meant the product,» Yeonjun says innocently. «It seems versatile — just like you, managing this store without losing your cool. Very impressive.»
«Sure.» It’s a dirty game. Soobin knows it. The words are too deliberate, the innuendos far too obvious.
«I have so much to learn from you, Soobin-ssi.» His smile is pure mockery. This guy knows exactly what he’s doing — and, judging by his expression, he’s having a blast.
«Want to see the stockroom?» Soobin asks instead, trying to brush him off. Because it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t.
«Yes, thanks.» Yeonjun nods toward the white door with a bold red Employees Only sign. «Lead the way.»
The stockroom feels darker and narrower than Soobin remembers — or maybe it’s just that having a second person crammed into the tiny space makes it uncomfortable. He shoves aside the cart he’d abandoned earlier after restocking shelves, clearing a path.
Yeonjun listens closely as Soobin explains how the inventory is organized and where to find unopened boxes. He walks him through delivery procedures and what to sign if the courier comes when he’s alone.
«Have you done this kind of work before?» Soobin asks as they head back out, the single lightbulb flickering overhead.
«I used to work retail at a clothing store,» Yeonjun explains, hands in the back pockets of his jeans. «Then they shut down to make way for a TikTok-viral fast-food chain, and now… here I am.»
«Damn mass tourism.»
«Hey,» Yeonjun chuckles as they exit, watching Soobin flip off the light and lock the door. «If capitalism didn’t exist, this shop would’ve gone under ages ago.»
«Capitalism killed intimacy and replaced it with Pornhub.»
Yeonjun laughs, and Soobin gestures toward the register — his safe zone. «We close in thirty minutes, and I am not getting stuck here with you between flavored lube and outrageously oversized dildos. Come on, I’ll give you the keys and everything you’ll need for your first day.»
Yeonjun listens attentively, bowing when Soobin finishes explaining.
«Please, take care of me.» he says politely, still bent at the waist.
And all Soobin can think is how much he hopes Yeonjun doesn’t take care of him — because this guy feels dangerous. Especially when he straightens up and smiles like a fox. A predator spotting his prey.
«See you Monday.» Soobin says, waving him off.
«It’s been a pleasure, Choi Soobin.» Yeonjun winks again before leaving.
Soobin stands frozen for a long moment. Then he looks at the door Yeonjun just walked through and realizes — to his horror — that he’s still smiling.
Damn it.