The day he ran into Choi Manseok, a faint wind of change stirred in Haejun’s heart.
Up until then, he’d thought trying to get anything out of Lee Kangjoo was impossible, that he should just be grateful for whatever money Kangjoo gave him. But he couldn’t keep living like this forever, scrambling just to cover the interest. If he wanted to move forward—if he wanted things to get better—he needed to wring out at least one more thing.
The problem was, he didn’t know how. He’d been chosen by customers, spoiled, gone on second rounds, but he’d never gotten anything beyond that. He had no idea how to broach it, what kind of sob story he was supposed to sell.
“Oh. So you’re finally gonna pull some construction?”
Yohan brightened like it was his own business. In contrast, Haejun’s face stayed dark—almost grim.
“But I’ve never gotten anything either.”
“Oh, come on.”
He’d puffed himself up, telling Haejun to call him hyung, but turns out he was all bark, no bite. Haejun’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ve heard a lot, though. Usually you sell family. Mom’s sick, your only younger sibling needs surgery but you don’t have the money, a close uncle you treat like a father collapsed—stuff like that.”
The more Yohan explained, the more Haejun lost confidence. Lee Kangjoo already knew his mother had died when he was five. And the fact that his father was a gambler—he’d already blabbed that with this loose mouth of his. If he wanted to sell family, he’d have to make one up, and that wasn’t a plan that would work on Lee Kangjoo.
“Anything else?”
“Something else... ask him to pay off your debt?”
“How do you even say that.”
“If the customer’s totally fallen for you, you can. Keep sighing, act depressed, cry a little.”
The premise itself was the problem. Lee Kangjoo didn’t like him. At best, Haejun was just a novel toy.
When he’d tried to jump off the bridge, Kangjoo hadn’t even tried to stop him—he’d just said he’d watch. Sure, he saved him in the end, but even if Haejun had died, Kangjoo wouldn’t have cared that much. Haejun was sure of it.
Lee Kangjoo was like a glacier. Even when he smiled sweetly, let Haejun into his home, treated him gently—the line was always crystal clear.
‘He hates anything bothersome, so filter it out.’
Getting something out of him, my ass. Maybe the best he could do was just try not to get thrown away.
“What, that bastard still hasn’t fallen for you?”
“Feels like he never will.”
“Yeah, figures. He did look like a high-difficulty target. That’s why I told you—wrap it up fast.”
Haejun stuck his lower lip out. Yohan raised his hand like he was about to swat a fly, so Haejun snapped it shut and swallowed the words.
Wrap it up, he says. Like it’s that easy. No matter where else he sold his body, he wouldn’t make this kind of money. On top of that, he got housing. Objectively speaking, the conditions were great. For a swallow, it was top-tier welfare. On the surface.
Sure, there was that something that kept popping up every time he saw Lee Kangjoo, the moments where just thinking about him left him dazed, powerless. Still, Haejun didn’t try to figure out why. He’d keep the lid shut and pretend not to notice until it disappeared on its own.
“If it really doesn’t work, I’ll find you someone else.”
“Didn’t you say last time that was bullshit?”
“That was before I saw that bastard’s picture. You, wherever you go, you pick the ones that smell like blood—”
Yohan clicked his tongue openly, twisting his lips as he looked at Haejun with displeasure. When Haejun tucked his tail and whimpered, Yohan sighed and looked away.
“Not some seventy-year-old grandpa—there is someone a bit healthier. Is fifty okay? Golf’s his hobby, he’s neat personality-wise. Divorced, two kids. Clean divorce, no drama.”
“That’s fi—”
He stopped mid-nod. Lee Kangjoo’s request—that Haejun not see other customers when he was with him—blocked his tongue.
“What, you don’t like it? There’s no one younger. Young guys don’t have the money to sponsor, and the ones with money are mostly old.”
“What about madams?”
“Madams? Everyone’s got a waiting number for them. They’re rare. Like wild ginseng.”
Meaning Haejun would never get his turn. He grabbed his head and thunked his forehead onto the table.
“I think I’m fucked.”
“You’ve been fucked for ages. Anyway, I’ll look around for another sucker, so in the meantime, just focus on reeling that customer in. Make him unable to live without you.”
“Didn’t you tell me last time I couldn’t reel anyone in, that I should run while I could?”
“There’s no other way right now. If it really doesn’t work, at least pretend to seduce him.”
He’d come for advice on how to find a way, and instead the future looked even bleaker. How the hell was he supposed to deal with someone who looked like you could stab them with a needle and not get a single drop of blood?
* * *
Lee Kangjoo was busy, so they didn’t see each other for a few days. They exchanged short texts and calls, but it wasn’t enough. Haejun stared at old photos until they practically wore out, swallowing the surge of emotion.
He knew this stupid feeling was longing, but he refused ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) to name it. The moment he opened the lid, it felt like everything inside would ferment, swell, and shoot straight up to the sky.
After days of burying himself in deliveries to suppress his emotions, the day Lee Kangjoo finally came arrived. The moment Haejun got the text, he wrapped up work and rushed home. Like a bird cleaning its nest, he flapped around tidying the place and preening his own feathers.
[Hyung what are you doing]
While he was busy getting ready, a message came in from No Eunjae. Haejun brushed it off, saying he was out on deliveries.
[I’ve got a club meeting today, wanna come]
[Lots of pretty kids]
He even sent photos as proof. They were all fresh-faced kids. He might’ve been tempted before, but now he wasn’t interested at all.
[I’m busy]
[Drinks are free I’ll pay]
[Next time]
[Hyung you’re cold]
Just replying was kind enough—where did he get the nerve to say shit like that.
Still, it was true he’d shut him down without leaving any opening, so Haejun started typing an apology. Before he could finish the sentence, the keypad buzzed. He tossed his phone aside and sprang to his feet, scurrying to the door.
“Welcome!”
He couldn’t believe how happy he was.
Haejun’s expression melted. Light shimmered in his eyes, his cheeks flushed. He tried to hide the uncontrollable smile by pressing his lips together, but the corners pushed up his cheeks anyway.
Part of him wanted to jump up and cling to Lee Kangjoo like a cicada stuck to an old tree. Even if he threw his arms around Kangjoo’s neck, Kangjoo would accept him easily—with those strong arms and hands that had lifted him up like pulling weeds from the railing that day.
But Haejun just stood straight, hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t hug Lee Kangjoo or stick to his side. Being held by him—literally—would be crossing a line.
“Feels like it’s been a while.”
He secretly counted the days on his fingers. Five days. Five days and nights had passed without even seeing Lee Kangjoo’s shadow. The well that couldn’t be filled by five-minute calls and meaningless daily reports slowly filled to the brim.
“Have you been well?”
Lee Kangjoo looked at him quietly. Under that arrow-sharp gaze, Haejun didn’t know what to do with himself and fidgeted his fingers, eyes fixed only on Kangjoo’s lips. Just one more taste and he’d have no regrets. Those tightly closed lips, the tongue hidden inside—sweet and dense, moist and soft, completely unlike Kangjoo’s cold, severe core.
Right then, the sound of the front door closing seeped through the crack. At the same time, Haejun’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His mouth was dry. He wanted to wet it with something. He parted his lips and looked up at Kangjoo.
As if he’d been waiting, Lee Kangjoo lunged. Like a predator, he sank his teeth into Haejun’s nape and strode inside.
* * *
Haejun hadn’t slept with anyone else because of Lee Kangjoo’s orders, but he didn’t know if Kangjoo had done the same. It was territory he wasn’t allowed to ask about, so even when he was curious, he kept his mouth shut.
“Haah—!”
Lee Kangjoo devoured him like someone who’d been starving for days. From the moment his clothes were stripped off and he collapsed in the entryway, Haejun’s legs never closed. They stayed spread. Good thing he’d prepared—otherwise there might’ve been blood.
Haejun, too, had been celibate, jabbing his thighs instead of jerking off, so at first he welcomed it eagerly. But that only lasted twice. From the third climax on, his groin trembled violently and his body lost all strength. His plump balls, emptied by repeated release, shriveled into flat, empty sacks.
Even though Haejun came three times, Lee Kangjoo didn’t once. He had to endure until Kangjoo finished, so he clutched the edge of the blanket and held on—only for the tip of Kangjoo’s cock to hit deep inside, shoving his insides upward.
“Hah—!”
His vision flashed white, a moan bursting up his throat. His dried-out balls twitched painfully, and his softening cock ached like someone was wringing it out.
