Swallow Hunting

“Yo, yo, you pretty little bastard. I knew you’d pull it off. Fuck, I knew I had an eye for people.”

“Huh? B-Boss, wh—huh?”

“Knew you’d land a big one someday. Yo, yo, pretty boy.”

The boss planted loud kisses all over the crown of Haejun’s head and kept piling on the praise. He’d been chewed out plenty of times, but praised? Never. Haejun rolled his eyes in confusion. A big one? The only fish he’d hooked lately were rotten clear through.

Still, he couldn’t exactly ruin the mood, so Haejun just laughed along and matched the boss’s rhythm. No idea what kind of news he’d heard to get this hyped, but hey—if the boss said it was good, then it was good.

“So yesterday off was ‘cause you were getting ready, huh? You sly little fox.”

Haejun started choking, hacking for air, and the boss finally loosened his arm—then patted his shoulders hard, like he was psyching up a son about to ship off to the army.

“They’ll be here soon, so serve them right.”

Nothing but nonsense all morning. Rubbing his sore neck, Haejun asked stupidly,

“Pardon?”

“What do you think? You said you introduced this place, didn’t you? They’re coming in person—you gotta go welcome them. Why’re you standing there going ‘huh, huh’ like an idiot?”

“...Pardon?”

“Look at this fucker. You told them to come yourself, didn’t you? You were bitching about not wanting to take a man, then sneaking pumpkin seeds out your ass and playing dumb—look at you now.”

One more “huh?” and he was pretty sure he’d get smacked upside the head. Haejun replayed every memory, trying to recall when he’d hooked someone. No matter how hard he tried, nothing came up.

Had he gotten blackout drunk and some second personality of his snagged a client and handed over a business card? But he hadn’t even been drinking much lately. He’d been putting everything into Han Yeonghwa—hadn’t even been working his body, staying all chaste and shit.

“Don’t leave out a single thing they ask for. If they want you to suck, you suck. If they say spread ’em, you spread ’em. If they say offer it up, you offer it up. If they spit, you swallow it. If they piss, you say ‘sure thing.’”

The boss grabbed Haejun’s ass hard. Tears welled from the pain, and still the hand didn’t leave—kneading like he was loosening a muscle. Then, crack, he slapped it like a whip.

“And say you want a high price ’cause it’s your first time!”

That was it. He told him to wait quietly and kicked him out of the office. Haejun staggered back to the waiting room in a daze. He still had no clue what the hell was going on.

“Hyung, boss chew you out bad?”

One of the guys slid over and asked. Haejun stared blankly into space, then slowly shook his head. It was a kind of yelling, sure—but a different flavor.

“No. Didn’t get scolded.”

“Then why do you look so gone?”

He even slung an arm around ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) him, all buddy-buddy. Haejun dragged both hands down his face. He seriously had no idea what had happened.

“I don’t know either.”

“If you don’t know, who would?”

“They say I got a reservation. But I don’t know who it is.”

“Holy shit, hyung...! That’s huge. Reservations are fucking gold.”

He’d heard of being requested by name, but reservations? Never. When Haejun asked what that meant, the guy smacked his lips and launched into it.

“With a request, you’re booked by the hour. With a reservation, the client keeps you as long as they want. They put down a reservation fee, rent the whole room. Hyung, your TC1) is gonna be insane.”

Pure envy in his eyes. Was this... good news? As he scratched his head, the boss’s excited babbling suddenly flashed through his mind.

He definitely said...... a man, didn’t he?

Haejun’s brow creased. Why of all people.

Then a call came in. Some of the guys stretched, others cursed as they headed out. Haejun almost followed on reflex—until the guy next to him pressed a hand down on his shoulder.

“Hyung, you’ve got a reservation.”

“Oh. Right.”

It was a chance to make serious money, so he should’ve been happy. But something felt seriously off. Why did it feel like he was walking straight into a tiger’s open jaws? He wanted nothing more than to bolt to Yohan’s place.

As if sensing that, the boss called. This time, Haejun didn’t miss it. He answered with a “Yes,” and immediately got told which room to go to. Then came the reminder again.

—Do everything. All of it.

He didn’t know how far that “everything” went, but one thing was clear: if he didn’t go, the boss would kill him.

Haejun shook his head, pulled himself together. Whatever was waiting in that room, at least he’d get TC. He dragged his heavy legs down the hallway.

Of course it had to be room 4. The room the boss had poured the most money into. He swallowed hard and knocked. No answer. Thinking maybe they hadn’t heard, he knocked again. Still nothing. Carefully, he opened the door, plastering on his business smile.

“Hello! Lucid’s cutie, poster boy, your one-and-only puppy who only looks at noona—Hajin reporting in...!”

Haejun couldn’t finish. Beyond the lavishly set table sat a man. The same man from last night’s dream—the one who’d pried his mouth open and poured cement down his throat instead of booze.

At Haejun’s over-the-top introduction, the man burst out laughing. A light, amused laugh, like he genuinely found it funny. Haejun couldn’t laugh along.

He was terrified. His legs shook worse than a jump-scare in a horror movie. His face went pale, mouth bone-dry, bladder shriveling up till he had to piss, the tip of his dick prickling painfully. The man dominated the space just by being there. No knife, no gun, not even a threat—and yet Haejun was shaking in fear.

“Your name’s Hajin?”

He realized a beat late that the man had spoken. Haejun dropped straight to his knees, slammed his forehead to the floor.

“I’m sorry!”

Apologized first, no thinking. No matter how he racked his brain, there was only one reason this man would be here. Han Yeonghwa. He’d come as her lover to punish the guy who’d tried to fuck her.

“I’m sorry, hyung! I fucked up! I thought noona Yeonghwa was single! If I’d known she was your woman, I wouldn’t have even stepped on her shadow!”

“.......”

“Please, spare me! I’ll never see noona Yeonghwa again! And we didn’t fuck that day! I swear! I didn’t lay a finger on her!”

Only Haejun’s voice echoed in the room. Even if it leaked outside and the other hosts listened in and laughed later, he didn’t care. Staying alive came first.

“Please, spare me!”

The man said nothing, even after hearing Haejun’s desperate pleas. Tears pooled in Haejun’s eyes. Was this it? Was he really about to say goodbye to the world?

Even if he bolted for the door, it felt like the man would grab his hair in an instant. The murder scene might not be some mountain in the middle of nowhere—it might be this room. Every crime-investigation show he’d ever watched flashed through his head.

“Hyung, hyung...?”

At a sudden gulped breath, Haejun looked up in confusion. The man had his head bowed, one big hand covering his lower face. His shoulders shook, bursts of stifled breath slipping out.

“Hyung...?”

When Haejun called again, the man lowered his hand. Like he could barely hold it in, the corners of his mouth kept lifting. He bit his lip, then finally composed himself and looked down at Haejun. A smile lingered, the afterimage of laughter.

“Alright. I heard you. You and Han Yeonghwa were ‘that kind’ of relationship.”

“No! Absolutely not. Jesus, hyung, that’ll get me killed.”

He waved his hands so hard they could’ve whipped up a gust. The man’s expression had softened a little from laughing. Still scary—but that devilishly handsome face stood out even more.

Why had Han Yeonghwa doted on someone like me when she had a man like that? Maybe after living with a top-tier pretty boy, she’d wanted a change of flavor. I wasn’t bad-looking myself, but next to him I was a mangy mutt tearing around a yard, a mole digging holes underground.

“You’ve got a smooth mouth.”

“If I didn’t have this tongue, I’d be a corpse already, hyung.”

The mood seemed to loosen. Haejun still couldn’t meet his eyes, only sneaking glances when he thought he wouldn’t be noticed.

“You good with your tongue?”

[Footnote]

1) The service fee a customer must pay to an employee when the employee joins a table