Episode 10: The Rival — Office, Masturbation, Exposure, Push and Pull
It was nine-thirty on a Friday night. Saebyeok pushed open the office door. The lights were on.
And there he was — Minwoo. In front of his monitor, head bowed. He must have heard her come in, but he never looked up.
Saebyeok hung up her jacket. The smell of alcohol still clung to it.
"Working late again?"
"That's rich coming from you, Saebyeok. You're always the last one out."
"I came back because I had work to do today."
"So did I."
Saebyeok sat down at her desk and powered on her monitor. Two keyboards began to clatter — each in its own rhythm.
An hour passed. The screen refused to register. The team lead's words from the company dinner kept circling her head: Minwoo really handled this project brilliantly. A brief pause. Oh — and Saebyeok did fine too.
That order, again. Always Minwoo first, Saebyeok second.
But strangely, tonight it didn't sting the way it used to. Out of nowhere, last month surfaced — the day she'd grabbed the wrong file for the client meeting, cold sweat prickling her spine while Minwoo slid his own materials across as if it were nothing.
When it came up in the team meeting afterward, Saebyeok had cut the discussion short with a single line. "It was nothing. We're on the same team — isn't that just what you do?"
She had been grateful, of course. She would never, ever have admitted it.
Saebyeok glanced toward Minwoo. Fluorescent light mixed with the monitor's glow and fell across his face — the line of his jaw, that focused gaze. Three years at the desk beside his, and yet this angle felt like one she'd never seen before.
Something tightened low in her belly.
She tried to blame the alcohol.
Her hand moved first. Across her skirt. Up the inside of her thigh. Her fingers pushed her underwear aside.
She was already wet. Since when? Warmth slid between her fingers, and her face went hot — that merely looking at Minwoo could leave her like this.
Her fingers began to move, slowly, searching out the most sensitive spot. He was right there. She was touching herself while watching him.
Then Minwoo rolled his chair back.
Saebyeok froze. Her hand stopped. She held her breath.
He stretched, glanced at the ceiling — then returned to his monitor.
Her heart hammered. Her hand was still there. She couldn't pull it away — everything was slick and hot, and the instant she withdrew, the sound would give her away.
Minwoo began typing again.
Slowly, Saebyeok started moving again.
She didn't close her eyes. She watched Minwoo — watched him while he had no idea. The clatter of his keyboard covered for her. Her fingers found the spot that made her shiver, tracing up and down, slow, and a low, wet, sticky sound rose from her hand alone.
A rhythm took hold. Something began to cinch tight below her belly.
Minwoo. His name circled in her head. She tried not to say it.
Faster. Deeper.
She could feel the chair growing damp beneath her, hot and sticky — and the very fact that she could feel it stoked her hotter still.
Nothing else mattered.
And then — it burst out.
"Nngh... Minwoo..."
Low. But clear enough to carry across the entire office.
Saebyeok froze.
Silence.
Oh.
Slowly, she turned her head. Minwoo had stopped typing. He was looking at her.
Their eyes met.
The heat flared all the way to her ears. Her hand was still there. She couldn't even pull it back.
"...I don't know what you're talking about."
Her voice trembled.
Minwoo stood up.
"Don't. Don't come near me."
Minwoo didn't stop. He crossed the room to stand in front of her — and then, quietly, opened his arms. There was no judgment in his eyes. None at all. Just — the look of someone simply being there.
Saebyeok didn't turn away.
His arms closed around her, and her forehead came to rest against his chest.
No. If I give in like this, he wins.
Her body leaned in anyway. All the strength went out of her.
They stayed like that for a long while. Only the hum of the air conditioner. Beyond the window, Seoul's night skyline spread out below.
Saebyeok spoke quietly.
"Last month. The documents."
"I know."
"I know it wasn't nothing."
"I know."
"...But thank you. I'm only saying this once."
Saebyeok fell silent.
Minwoo laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"That's the first time I've ever heard the word 'thank you' come out of your mouth."
Saebyeok jabbed him in the ribs.
"Shut up. Three years of you has worn me out, Minwoo."
"Same here. Every single time I came in second."
"We took turns, didn't we?"
"...We did."
A small laugh escaped her. A first — laughing in front of Minwoo with her guard completely down.
He looked at her quietly.
She asked, "What are you staring at?"
"You're pretty."
Her face went red all over again.
"...What nonsense."
His hand rose over her breast and pressed — just slightly. Lightly.
Her body answered at once. She felt her nipple stiffen, and the sensation threaded straight down through her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Minwoo smiled. Saebyeok smiled too — without meaning to.
"I've wanted to do this for three years."
Saebyeok looked at him. Her rival. The one she'd always wanted to beat. But in this moment he was — just a man.
She grabbed his collar first.
"Then let's make up for all three years at once."
Minwoo lifted her onto the desk.
Her skirt rode up. The desktop met her bare thighs — cold — and the temperature difference was startlingly vivid.
His hand slipped inside her underwear. Fingertips made contact.
Saebyeok held her breath.
His fingers stopped. They didn't move — simply rested there, as if to confirm how thoroughly soaked she already was. Their weight alone was pressure enough.
"...Do it."
Saebyeok spoke first.
Minwoo moved slowly, over the most sensitive spot, tracing a circle — barely, by millimeters.
"...Mmh."
She tried to hold it in. It leaked through her teeth.
"It's nothing," Saebyeok said, low.
Minwoo returned to the same spot, rotating his wrist.
"...Ahh—"
This time she couldn't stifle it at all — a sound resonating from deep in her throat. She clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late.
His fingers became two.
The moment they pushed in — a taut, stretched-tight sensation. She was narrow; the resistance registered first. Then the fingers settled along her inner walls, and she felt herself clenching hard around them.
"...Ah. Ahh—"
"How is it?"
"That's cheating."
Minwoo gave a faint smile — bending his fingers, curling up and inward, pressing firm and steady, searching out the exact depth that made her react.
Arousal ran down along his fingers, hot and slick. Every movement drew a low, wet sound. Saebyeok heard it — heard it coming from her own body — and her face burned hotter.
Her hips lifted on their own, tilting toward his hand as if to take more.
No. If I keep this up, I lose.
But her hips were already moving.
Minwoo paused for a moment.
Saebyeok's eyes opened. She caught her breath.
"Why did you stop?"
"Because I'm going to make you feel even better."
She didn't answer. She didn't push him away, either.
"...If you stop, I'll kill you."
Minwoo laughed.
Then, drawing his fingers free — he undid his own belt.
Saebyeok heard that sound, and her breath went shallow.
Minwoo freed his thick, rigid length and came closer.
Contact. He hadn't even entered yet — only the tip resting against her wettest place, and that alone cinched her lower belly tight.
"...Do it."
Again, Saebyeok spoke first.
He entered slowly.
Saebyeok's back went rigid. Taut as a bowstring. He was bigger than she'd expected — the delicate lining pushed apart, and the moment of adjusting arrived. Full. Overwhelming. Both at once.
It's different. She knew it immediately. His fingers had been one thing — this was another. The depth was different. The feeling of being filled to the brim was different.
Minwoo began to move, seeking out the depth that made her react, shifting his angle with every stroke.
"...Mmh—"
With every slow withdrawal and push back in, a low, wet friction echoed beneath the desk, threaded with the creak of strained wood. Saebyeok gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in.
"How is it?" Minwoo asked, low.
Never. Not in a million years.
He pushed deeper. A heavy, visceral pressure bloomed deep in her belly, and over it layered a pleasure sharp as a blade's edge.
"...Hah— hah— it's... nothing special."
Minwoo laughed.
"Ahh— ahhn— don't. laugh."
"Why not?"
"You're trying to win right now. Hahn."
"Then we'll win together."
Saebyeok looked at him. Their eyes met.
"...Minwoo— ahh— ahhn."
She said it low. She had never once called his name like this. It was out of her mouth before she could stop it.
"I— might have liked you. Mmh— hn— for a long time now."
Minwoo stopped.
Saebyeok looked away.
"Ahhn— ahh— I'm drunk."
"You're a lot more sober than you were an hour ago."
"Shut up."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Slowly.
Something stirred at her tear ducts. She held it back and blinked.
The rhythm resumed — faster this time, deeper. With every thrust, the desk legs gave a faint creak. Saebyeok's feet floated off the floor; she reached for Minwoo's waist, couldn't manage the angle, and simply held on. He noticed that hand.
He sank in deeper.
"...Ah— hahh—"
She wasn't holding back anymore. The sounds breaking past her teeth, the ragged, shortened breaths — all of it came out.
The tight coil below her belly began to spread in waves.
"This—" Saebyeok gasped between breaths. "I won't remember any of this later."
"Won't you?"
"Hah— never remember—"
The tempo climbed. She pulled Minwoo closer, pressed her forehead to his shoulder.
One beat.
Her whole body locked rigid. Her breathing stopped entirely — a stillness like time itself had frozen.
Two beats.
"Hahhh— ahhhnn—"
It broke. A contraction pulsed deep inside her — once, twice. Everything spilled out at once, hot and sticky down the inside of her thighs. The hand clutching Minwoo's shoulder clenched with the last of her strength.
Three beats.
Her body went limp. What remained was a raw, oversensitive trembling — as if the slightest brush of air might raise goosebumps. Reason returned slowly.
Stillness returned.
Saebyeok leaned against his shoulder, hair clinging to her face.
Minwoo swept it back for her. Without a word.
A long while later, she spoke quietly.
"This — never happened. Tomorrow, it's as if it never happened."
Minwoo looked at her.
"Your voice is shaking."
"It is not."
It was shaking. Undeniably.
She pushed him away, tugged her skirt down, slid off the desk. Her legs were still a little unsteady; she did her best not to let it show.
She went back to her seat and woke her monitor.
"There's a project review next week."
She began typing. Her fingers still trembled, faintly.
"And I have no intention of losing there."
Minwoo laughed as he made his way back to his own desk.
"Of course not."
Two keyboards filled the office again — the same rhythm as ever.
Seoul's night lay spread beneath the window. The air conditioner hummed low.
But Saebyeok knew.
She would remember.
She just would never, ever admit it.
Tomorrow, a rival would still be a rival.
Only — a rival who knew about last night.