[ Cheol-gang's never seen a person turn that bright pink before, not even John Irving. For a moment he wonders if he's gone too far, hit a little too hard—not anything that would make him feel guilt, of course, but something that could make Irving want to stop associating with him, which he would feel—but then that same man whimpers beneath him, a sound that's impossible to construe as anything but lust. ]

I would be. I will. That kind of behavior from a commissioned officer. Do you think you're in a whorehouse, Lieutenant? [ From behind gritted teeth: ] Remember your goddamn place or I'll show you. [ Beat. Then: ]

I'm not going to let you finish after this. Surely you know that.

[ He doesn't want to, of course. For... reasons Cheol-gang still can't wrap his mind around, starting with the lingering physical discomfort alone— ]