Defective Banana - Chapter 4

Ara pursed her lips, unimpressed by the way he stood there, half his face hidden under his cap.

“Okay, just say it.”

Seohyuk held out the wine bottle first, as if it were a peace offering.

“Take this, at least.”

“I told you, you really didn’t have to.”

She looked awkward about it but ended up hugging the long bottle to her chest anyway, waiting for him to get to the point. Seohyuk avoided her eyes, scratching his jaw before raising a finger to point at the ceiling above them.

“Could we maybe go up to the rooftop? It’s not really something to talk about out here in the hall.”

There was a small garden and a bench up on the roof — the perfect quiet spot for a conversation.

“…Fine. Go on up first. I’ll put this inside and be right there.”

“Okay.”

He gave her a quick nod and disappeared toward the stairwell. Ara watched him go, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. What could he possibly want to say about Donghee?

Maybe it was about that karaoke night last month? They’d had a few drinks, sure, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t embarrassed herself badly enough for him to bring it up now. It was Donghee who’d kept calling her son in the middle of their songs, trying to make him listen. In the end, she’d practically used her phone as a mic while belting out ballads. Ara had just sat there, quiet as a mouse.

She set the wine down on the kitchen counter, stepped back out, and headed for the stairwell. Living on the top floor, the rooftop was just a short climb away.

Pushing open the fire door, she stepped out under the dark night sky — and there he was, standing alone like a silhouette against the city lights. The bench light cast a soft glow on him, making him look like he’d stepped out of a magazine spread.

His tall, broad-shouldered frame, the way he leaned against the railing — she found herself wondering again about his job. Donghee had mentioned something once… Was he a basketball player? A volleyball player? Or maybe he really was a model?

Curiosity fluttered through her chest — a faint, unexpected thrill. She’d drawn plenty of male nudes while studying, but she’d never paid much attention to men themselves. Yet, looking at him now, she couldn’t help picturing him naked. It had to be the body — so naturally well-proportioned that her artist’s eye couldn’t help but appreciate it.

She let that strange rush of curiosity push her forward, each step echoing faintly in the quiet rooftop night. The sound made Seohyuk turn to look at her, his hand brushing his lips before he gestured awkwardly at the bench behind him.

“Shall we sit?”

“Sure.”

Seeing how tense he looked, Ara felt a sudden flicker of worry. Is Donghee sick? Is it something serious? She took a seat, and he sat down next to her — though he turned his head away, like he couldn’t figure out how to start.

She decided to be patient, folding her hands in her lap and waiting quietly. She had no idea that the only thing on Seohyuk’s mind was asking her to hit him again — and that he was dying inside at the thought of how insane it sounded. He just rubbed his clasped hands together, stalling for time.

She’s going to think I’m completely nuts.

Ara’s patience only stretched so far. She squinted at him, then finally broke the silence.

“So? What is it? Just spit it out already.”

Cornered, Seohyuk blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Are you… close with my mother?”

“Yes. Why? Is something wrong? Is Donghee sick?”

His head jerked the other way again, his breath coming out in a shaky rush. He hadn’t even been this nervous at his first movie audition.

“No, no, Kim Yeosa’s not sick or anything…”

But instead of getting to the point, he just kept babbling.

“Um… Did my mom ever mention me to you?”

“No? Why?”

Ara stared at him, half his face still hidden under his cap, her patience wearing thin.

“Seriously, what are you trying to say? Stop stalling and just say it.”

Her bluntness left him no choice. He glanced at her, then forced himself to get it out.

“So, um, yesterday afternoon… the thing is… when you hit me—”

Ara yelped and slapped her own hand.

“Ah! Damn it!”

“…What’s wrong?”

“There must be mosquitoes up here.”

She glanced around as if looking for the culprit. Seohyuk’s eyes sharpened — this was his chance. He needed to know for sure if it really was the hitting that triggered him.

Without thinking twice, he grabbed her hand, lifted it, and pressed his lips to the back of it where she’d slapped.

Startled, Ara swatted at his head without mercy.

“What the hell are you doing?! Are you insane?!”

Seohyuk’s cap almost flew off — he grabbed it and pulled it back down, ducking his head to hide from her furious glare. He raised his hands like he was surrendering.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to — it just sort of happened on its own.”

But as he spoke, he felt it — the sudden rush of heat pooling low in his body. Holy sh1t. It really is this? Getting hit… actually does it?

He covered his face with both hands, half laughing, half horrified. He could feel it — hardening, pressing against his jeans. It was so ridiculous he almost wanted to cry — and yet, deep down, he felt an undeniable thrill. For the first time in years, he felt like a real man again.

But the shame was just as strong. Is this what they call a masochist? Someone who gets turned on by being hit?

Buried in his own hands, he let out a strangled groan and cursed under his breath.

“God… I’m such a fucking freak…”

Ara’s eyes widened at his muttering.

“Excuse me? Did you just call me a freak?”

He jerked upright, waving his hands frantically.

“No! No, I swear, I meant me — I was talking to myself!”

“You’re unbelievable! What is wrong with you? I let it slide yesterday for Donghee’s sake, but now you’re kissing my hand? With your spit?! Are you kidding me?!”

“I know! I know! I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it like that!”

Seohyuk felt like the ground should just swallow him whole. But even through the shame, one truth burned clear in his mind — he needed her. She was the only one who could fix him.

He’d never once gotten hard with any woman before — but with her, he had. If this was a sign from the universe, he had to grab it. Wasn’t it like those dramas, where only the Goblin’s Bride could pull out the sword stuck in the Goblin’s chest? He didn’t have a sword in his chest — but the weight he carried was just as real, just as painful.

This was his chance to break free. To reclaim his manhood. To finally live a normal life — to act in romance films, to fall in love, to have s3x like everyone else, to dream about a future that didn’t feel so empty.

He lowered his hands and looked at her with a strange, burning seriousness.

“Ara.”

She leaned back instinctively, glaring at him like he’d lost his mind.

“What now?”

But Seohyuk — the country’s top actor, master of charm and gravitas — let a soft, seductive edge slip into his low voice as he met her eyes.

“Ara… I need you.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?”

She looked at him like she wanted to punch him again — and maybe that was exactly what he was hoping for. But Seohyuk held her gaze, every word dripping with that cinematic intensity only he could pull off.

“Ara. Please… save me.”