Swallow Hunting - vanish into fiction

Since he could not cling to Yohan like a bedbug forever, he had returned to his lodgings. After that incident, Cha Hae-jun went to work at the club as if nothing had happened, acting cute and tinkling like a bell for the customers. He drank, danced, sang. When it was fast, he took it fast.

However, a critical problem had arisen. It was a life crisis he had never once experienced in all his years.

He was impotent.

Perhaps the words spoken by the juniors in the waiting room had taken root, but his dick would not stand at attention. To be precise, it would get hard and taut, but the moment he tried to insert it, it would immediately go limp and wither. In the end, even when faced with ample breasts and honey-dripping wetlands, it would not even raise its head, instead collapsing like a branch shriveled and dried under the scorching sun.

This could not be happening.

It felt like losing the whole world. His dick would not get hard. Impotence at this age? Last time he came while sucking someone else’s dick, and this time it had completely departed for the afterlife. This was no ordinary serious matter.

In this situation, he had no appetite either. Hae-jun listlessly poked at his cooled down bean sprout soup with rice. He could not even eat half a bowl, yet sitting across from such a Hae-jun, Yohan filmed himself eating. He polished off one earthenware pot and, finding it insufficient, ordered an additional one.

“You should go to the hospital.”

Yohan suggested, his nose buried in his second bean sprout soup with rice. Hae-jun weakly lifted his head and looked at Yohan, then let it drop back down with a thud.

The day he realized a critical problem had arisen with his dick, Hae-jun had first rushed to Yohan. He pounced on Yohan, who was snugly burrowed under the blankets sleeping.

“Hey, my dick won’t get hard!”

He had shouted loud enough to make the whole room ring. Half-asleep and thinking a thief had broken in, Yohan grabbed the club by his bedside and, with a fond-sounding curse, fiercely rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Is this something you wake a sleeping person up for, suddenly causing a scene?”

“It won’t get hard, I said it won’t get hard!”

“Ah, what do you want me to do about it?!”

Hae-jun clung to Yohan’s arm, whining with annoyance, squeezing out tears and lamenting that his life was now ruined. At first, Yohan told him to get lost and kicked at Hae-jun, but upon seeing him crouched in a corner of the room filming a tear-jerking melodrama, he clicked his tongue.

“It’s probably temporary.”

“No, last night I went to a second-round appointment and my dick was completely dead, it wouldn’t get hard at all. Why is this happening?”

Even recalling it now was a tremendous shock. He had been lucky enough to be chosen by a customer for a second-round appointment, but his dick, which should have sprung to attention, had sunk down heavy like a lump of iron. He had secretly grabbed and shaken it and even had dirty thoughts, but his lower half stubbornly refused to raise its head.

He tried to satisfy the customer with his mouth and hands, but how could that work? The moment the customer realized Hae-jun’s dick was dead, he cursed him to his face, kicked him in the buttocks, and threw him out.

“What am I supposed to earn a living with now? How am I going to pay this month’s interest right away? What if those bastards come to take my kidneys?”

The loan sharks, who would pounce to skin him alive if he was even a penny late, constantly loomed around him. Even though it was money Hae-jun had never even used, they were always watching him with fire in their eyes.

“Are you writing a novel? You probably sucked too many dicks, so it’s not working. If you rest for a few days, it’ll start up again.”

“Really?”

“But why do I have to hear this shitty story the moment I open my eyes, Cha Hae-jun? To make my day start off shitty?”

At the words “make it shitty,” Hae-jun flinched greatly. It was because the words the man had said came to mind. He shook his head vigorously, erasing the man’s lingering image. He grabbed his suddenly parched throat, then once again scraped at the floor and dug a tunnel.

“It’ll really be okay if I rest for a few days?”

“If it’s not okay, get surgery. I heard these days they put a device inside so you can press a button and get an erection.”

“Thanks for the comfort, you crazy bastard…”

Yohan let out a drawn-out yawn and burrowed back into the bedding. As if he would listen no more, he put on his crimson earplugs.

Several days had already passed since that day, but Hae-jun’s dick still had not come to its senses. Like a starving mutt for a week, it remained utterly limp. Hae-jun stirred the innocent soup with a deeply troubled face.

In the meantime, Yohan had cleanly finished his second bowl of soup. He even coveted Hae-jun’s half-eaten bowl of rice. When Hae-jun pushed it over, Yohan scooped up all the remaining rice in one spoonful and shoved it into his mouth. He looked as pretty as an idol, but watching him eat, he was like a prison thug given a bowl of rice.