Two thousand people watch him cook. Only one of them sees him.
On an island off the Thai coast, Chai runs a small, devoted cooking channel: one kitchen, a live pot of soup every week, and a sea he always keeps at the edge of the frame. He reads every member’s message and answers on Sundays, in order, all of them. His audience knows how he takes his coffee. None of them know anything that matters.
Three thousand kilometers away in Busan, Hyun-woo lives by the 6:47 train, office spreadsheets and rules nobody asked him to keep. He has never commented on anything in his life. When he finally does, it’s one polite line that could have come from anyone. Chai likes it and moves on.
Months later, at three in the morning, another comment arrives:
i don’t know if this is company or the most crowded loneliness i’ve ever seen. good night.
Chai doesn’t reply. He likes it.
What begins there becomes a channel of their own: messages, then a voice, then a camera that shows everything except a face. Every step has to be earned. Every silence means something. And when silence follows the moment that mattered most, two men on opposite sides of a sea will learn that being seen is sometimes more frightening than being touched.
READ, NO REPLY is a steamy slow burn MM romance: strangers to lovers, long distance, hurt / comfort and a closeted hero, told in dual POV. Explicit scenes, for adult readers 18+. Standalone. And this story ends well.
From the author: The inspiration came from the least romantic place in the world: scrolling TikTok and Instagram. This is the quietest book I have ever written.
Content warnings:
- explicit intimate scenes between adult men (mutual, enthusiastic consent)
- workplace homophobia, incl. an outing “as a joke”
- hiding one’s orientation
- fear of being outed
- grief and guilt after a coworker’s disappearance from the workplace (no depiction of death)
- a past relationship hidden by a partner
- lying to family to protect a relationship
- episodic alcohol (wine)
- no on-page violence
- no dubious consent
- no dark-romance power play