Treating Her to Dinner

Yesterday's stream had been utter chaos.

The stuff I'd pulled with the Yan Sisters had counted as teaming — a banned practice in the game. I couldn't even run a proper viewer match because of it, and the whole thing died after a single round.

I refunded every bit of mission money that had been riding on it, of course, and I apologized. Banned was banned, whether I'd known the rule or not.

Afterward, the noonas I'd queued with came by to say sorry themselves, and we ended up chatting while they walked me through game knowledge I hadn't known existed. I shut the stream down earlier than usual.

And now…

"So that's how this works. Let's see what the manual says…"

I was unboxing the webcam, microphone, and lights I'd ordered. I'd gotten earphones too, but those still hadn't shown up.

"Smaller than I thought. This thing can actually do 1080p at sixty frames?"

I turned the surprisingly compact, feather-light webcam over in my hands, impressed, then flipped open the manual that had come with it.

Some people liked to say a real man never reads the instructions. I was not one of those people. I actually enjoyed this kind of thing. Sometimes you found a feature you never would have expected. Sometimes there was a warning you really needed to see.

This time, I discovered something called auto-framing — a function that kept a moving subject locked in the center of the shot. It would come in handy for streaming, in a small but genuine way.

"Mount it like this, plug in the USB, and that's it? That's almost too easy."

Maybe it was because so many people were using webcams these days. Setup was dead simple. You just plugged the USB into the computer and it connected on the spot. No drivers, no extra software, nothing. The microphone was the same story — USB in, done.

I fired up the broadcast program to check the picture, and it came through beautifully.

Seeing myself through the webcam made my younger face hit me all over again. Who would look at this and think adult? I might have to get Se-a to see me as a man before I could get her to fall in love with me.

"Haa… I should just set up the lights."

I assembled the stand, slotted it into the base, and mounted the lamp head. The second I plugged the cord into the wall, light exploded across the room.

"Whoa — okay, that's a lot."

It was far brighter than I'd expected. I scrambled for the back of the manual and hunted down the controls. Apparently you could adjust the brightness with the dial in the center of the head, or with the remote that had come in the box.

"This much? No — do I need to push it higher?"

I tweaked the output while watching myself on the webcam, with no real idea what "right" looked like, until I pulled up a few other streamers for reference — women streamers, obviously — and finally called it good.

Was it just me, or had matching this one light been harder than assembling and connecting everything else combined?

"Last up, the RGB strip… ah. Damn loft."

I'd meant to run it along the ceiling edges for atmosphere, but that soaring ceiling was so high I couldn't even attempt it. And even if I somehow got it up there, would it have done anything?

"I am moving out of this place. That's a promise."

Hating to waste what I'd already paid for, I stuck one strip along the wall in front of me. This one was brighter than expected too, but given that I streamed in the evening, if I killed every light in the apartment and drew the curtains it would probably do the job.

"Cleanup can wait until after I eat, right?"

The boxes scattered across the floor made me sigh just looking at them. When was I supposed to break all of those down?

I hadn't eaten since morning, and my stomach had been screaming for food for a while now. I didn't have the energy to cook anything, so I knocked back a cup of instant ramen and retreated to the sofa.

The Herman Miller was comfortable, no question — comfortable enough that a long stream wouldn't bother me. But the sofa still won. They served different purposes, and when it came to sinking in and doing nothing, the chair couldn't compete.

"What's Se-a doing right now, I wonder?"

Thinking about her had become part of the daily routine. From where I was sitting, the two of us were a day or two away from crossing a line. Both of us.

If someone was going to cross it, though, it had to be me. Otherwise she'd spend the whole time feeling guilty.

"Should I invite her over for dinner tonight?"

It wasn't like I had ulterior motives. I wasn't trying to cross that line. Call it a little buildup.

Having decided, I called her on the spot.

"Noona, what were you doing?"

Her voice had a strangely sultry edge to it. Something almost… inviting.

"O-oh yeah? You're really going at it."

What was that? Was she inviting me? Was she just putting it out there that she couldn't wait anymore?

If I didn't take that, I was pretty sure I'd be the only one getting treated like a eunuch.

There's no way noona would do that. Right?

She must have gotten worried when I didn't say anything.

Se-a had a lot of good qualities, but the way every feeling she had dripped straight through her voice was a particular favorite of mine. Lately that voice had been getting more affectionate by the day.

"Nothing's wrong. I just called to ask if you wanted to have dinner together tonight."

See that? How was anyone supposed to hold out when that much happiness came pouring through the speaker?

I couldn't. I still couldn't get the smile off my face.

"No, just come over in something comfortable. I'll cook."

"Yeah. I'm a pretty good cook, you know?"

She sounded genuinely startled, which made sense. I'd never mentioned cooking. In this world, imagining a man in the kitchen was a stretch to begin with.

There were currently nine men on the planet who cooked. Correction: nine male chefs. Every last one of them was booked out years in advance, and money alone couldn't even get you a reservation.

"Of course. Anything you want to eat? Just say the word."

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully.

"…Noona. You don't have to worry about me. Tell me what you actually want."

She'd probably said that because she figured I was the one who liked pasta. Even people's palates were reversed in this world.

Not that I disliked pasta. I just wanted to hear what she was craving.

"Really?"

She didn't sound like she was putting it on. All right then. Time to lock in and do this properly.

I got up off the sofa and headed for the desk as I talked.

"Got it. Be at the house by six."

The second she answered that brightly, another woman's voice came through the speaker.

A chorus of women's voices crashed together with a clatter of commotion, and then the call cut off. Her seniors, honestly…

"They're a lively bunch."

I hoped they wouldn't give her too hard a time.

I sat down in front of the computer as it finished booting and pulled up a big-box grocery site. I couldn't go out without her, so I'd be buying the ingredients from here.

I loaded up everything for the Toowoomba pasta, plus sides, then dumped in a mountain of snacks for myself while I was at it.

The men's living stipend would hit in three days, and I could cash out from Twitch in seven. Donations so far already totaled thirty million won. More than half of that was from Alpha noona.

I wanted to do something for her in return, but my manager had said it wasn't feasible right now, so I'd half given up on the idea.

Anyway. The point was I didn't need to be stingy.

"All right. Express delivery it is."

Express delivery meant they brought it to your door right now. There was a surcharge, but I was past the point of pinching coins.

I placed the order, and an hour later the arrival notice popped up.

The yellow bag sitting in front of the door was pretty heavy.

"Huu… I should start working out. Soon."

I caught my breath, checked the contents, and put everything away.

It was pasta, so if I started at five-thirty I'd still finish in plenty of time. Until then, I was going to rest.

Five-thirty. The noodles had soaked long enough. Time to cook.

I had the prepped ingredients on the cutting board and was about to fire up the pan when the intercom buzzed.

"Called it."

I checked the screen. Se-a was standing outside. I hurried to the front door and let her in.

"I told you six."

"I just came early. Need any help?"

"I'm good. Sit tight and watch me cook."

I sat her down at the table and poured her a glass of cold water. Once I was sure she was fidgeting in place but not actually getting up, I went back to the stove.

Before I started the Toowoomba, I loaded a meal-kit rack of barbecue ribs ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into the air fryer with some vegetables that would add sweetness and umami, and set it running.

While the ribs had their ten minutes, I sautéed the pasta ingredients, poured in the cream sauce, and let it come up to a simmer. Once it hit the right consistency I added the fettuccine I'd boiled ahead of time and reduced it until it clung thick to the noodles.

The air fryer chimed at almost the same moment the Toowoomba finished. I plated everything up.

"Noona, want me to crack some pepper on it?"

"Huh? P-pepper? Yeah, you should… mm."

"Got it."

I bit back a laugh at the dazed way she answered. The cooking was hitting harder than I'd expected. I hadn't thought she'd zone out like that.

"Here you go."

I set the peppered Toowoomba pasta in front of her, put the barbecue ribs in the center of the table, and added bread on the side so she could eat it all together.

"Wow… this is… this is actually incredible."

She stared at the spread in open awe, then snapped back to herself and started taking pictures like her life depended on it.

Having her like it this much felt good, as the person who'd made it — but wasn't this a little much? I was starting to get embarrassed.

"H-hurry up and eat! Stop taking pictures!"

"Huh? J-just a few more…"

"Eat it before it gets cold!"

I confiscated her phone by force and pressed a fork into her empty hand.

I'll just say that the way she gasped about how good it was with every single bite was every bit as embarrassing as the photos.

"You're a really good cook. Better than me, even, aren't you?"

Se-a said it while sitting at the table, looking down at the empty plates. Anyone could tell she wasn't being polite. She'd been smacking her lips for a while now, still chasing the taste.

If I'd known, I would have made more. I'd accounted for palates being reversed. I hadn't checked whether appetites had flipped along with them.

"Cooking used to be a hobby. It's rewarding when you enjoy it this much."

I said it while clearing the plates, so she wouldn't keep staring at them with that leftover longing. The way her eyes followed the dishes the entire time was a little funny.

"Ah— I'll do the dishes!"

"No. I said I'd cook for you. How am I supposed to make you clean up after?"

I pushed her back as she came toward me and started on the dishes myself. There was no world in which my strength actually moved her, but she couldn't use force on a man either, so she got shoved away without a chance.

The way she hovered beside me, fidgeting and not knowing what to do with herself, made me laugh.

Once the dishes were done I sat on the sofa and rested my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head against her shoulder. Se-a ran warm, and sitting like this I could feel the heat of her.

"Noona. You heading out like this?"

"Huh? I-I probably should, right? We already ate."

"That's a shame…"

I had a feeling. The second I lifted my head off her shoulder, she was going to leave.

I wanted to keep her here a little longer, even a little. I didn't say anything. I just turned it over in my head.

A way to hold on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to her. How did I get her to go home late?

While I was hunting for an answer, the computer caught my eye.

Yeah. That might do it.

I didn't know if she'd go for it. But if she did, it wouldn't just mean sending her home late. It would make something much bigger possible.

"Hey, noona."

"What?"

Her answer came out a little stiff. Lately she'd gotten used to holding hands — it barely got a reaction out of her anymore. The joy of it had started to outweigh the fluster.

Being pressed this close, though, with more than just our hands touching, still threw her more than anything.

"Want to come on my stream as a guest?"

"A g-guest? Me?"

"Yeah. Guest sounds like a bigger deal than it is. You just have to sit next to me."

She would have understood. That I was only saying it because I wanted to stay with her.

All right. What was she going to give me back?

"…If that's what you want, Dan-woo. Okay."

"…"

This was bad. If I opened my mouth right now, a stupid grin was going to leak out.

I clamped a hand over my mouth and ducked my head. My face was probably every bit as dumb as my voice would have been.

"Th-then I'll start the stream… start streaming now?"

"R-right now? Oh— it's already six-forty. Okay!"

She'd been watching every day since I'd told her I was going to stream. She knew I went live at seven, so she agreed without a fight.

I typed in the title and hit go. The webcam stayed off for now.

I watched the viewer count climb and muted the mic. Just in case any sound leaked through.

Once I was sure nothing was going out, I went over to Se-a on the sofa.

"Come on. Let's go."

"Okay…"

I took her hand and walked her to the desk.

We only realized there was a single chair once we got there. While she stood there trying to figure out what to do, I sat her down in it.

"Huh? Dan-woo, where are you going to sit?"

"Me? There's only one place I can sit, isn't there?"

I sat down on her thighs. Behind me, I felt her swallow a breath.

I glanced back. Her hands were hovering in the air, completely lost. I caught them and guided them around my waist, settling them against my stomach.

Then I slowly leaned my back into her chest, spreading the contact out until there ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was barely any space left between us.

"D-Dan-woo… this, this position…"

"Noona. We're staying like this until the stream ends. There's only one chair, so work with me here, okay?"

Sorry, noona. This was a foregone conclusion the moment you said yes to being a guest.

You should stop panicking and just accept it.

And so a collab that was, in more ways than one, completely outrageous got underway.