Archive of Our Own ^beta

It happens because, on a random Thursday night, after one too many shots of vodka, two too many drunken, self-deprecating jokes, and three too many encouraging friends standing over his shoulder as he sat at his laptop, Seungmin decides to order a daddy Dom from an escort website.

The form is simple and makes sense. Of course they would want to make sure he’s not some creep, and his request is legitimate. But, Seungmin is still mortified, underneath the excitement and anticipation. He still bites his lips raw, and his fingers still shake as he fills in his information. He still ignores the tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. He still shies away from his friends’ comforting hugs and kisses.

Then, at the very bottom of the form, is a little box with the prompt,

Special requests (not guaranteed, but worth mentioning):

The alcohol stirring in his belly and making his mind fizzy, he blinks slowly and gathers his courage to type,

Spanking.

And, because he’s still a polite boy, even though he feels like a first-class loser, he types,

Please. Thank you.

He received an acceptance response email a day later, and a friendly DM from one of the top four Doms from the service website, Bang Chan. The man was 25 years old, from Australia, and made conversation easy over text, something Seungmin had never quite experienced, even with his friends he’d known since high school.

They’d been texting quietly, slowly, for a few days, going over the vague, surface-level particulars, and agreeing to meet for drinks at the café before going up to the hotel room. Seungmin paid for an entire night; it seemed the safest option for what he was asking for. They messaged about work schedules and settled on a date and time.

The week flew by like a Molotov cocktail, Seungmin counting the days down like he used to do during finals week in school, or whenever there was a recital for the conservatory. The buzzing feeling in his belly grew with each passing day, rising up to his throat and floating in circles around his head.

“There’s going to be a lot of … talking, you know? Like, to make sure you’re both being safe. You’re alright with all of that?” Minho dried his hands after loading their apartment dishwasher and turned to look slightly worriedly over at Seungmin, who was scrolling on his phone in the sofa in the corner of the kitchen.

It had been a rough day at work, so he’d been in the same spot for hours, merely recharging and trying not to cry.

He nodded and looked up, working hard to give his hyung his whole attention.

“Yeah, I know. I can do it,” he murmured, his voice cracking.

Minho would have given him a hug if he’d let him. He knew it.

Hyunjin had convinced him to dress in his most comfortable, yet dress-casual clothes, despite his strong arguments. He sat in the booth with a bouncing leg and a brewing nervous headache, wearing his nicest pair of blue jeans, work shoes, and a black button-up. Felix let him borrow one of his necklaces and it was cold against Seungmin’s neck, but he welcomed the grounding feeling.

The door chimed open gently, and Bang Chan walked through into the restaurant lobby, catching sight of Seungmin quickly and waving. The younger boy tightened his hands around his mug and looked down, insides freezing a little more with each passing second in anticipation of what was about to happen. He waved hesitantly without looking up.

Seungmin hadn’t been thinking of Chan as an escort, the job title making him think of male prostitutes from old movies, usually found in uncomfortable places and ugly sides of town. That wasn’t Chan, Chan was … he didn’t really know. Different. He was just thinking of him as … Chan.

The man wasn’t too much taller than Seungmin and was dressed similarly, causing Seungmin to internally sigh with relief. The older boy was wearing dark jeans, black boots, and a baby blue dress shirt tucked in, a thick, handsome black belt accenting his waist. Around one wrist was a set of bracelets, and on the other was a shiny, silver watch. Chan’s hair was styled out of his face and shone slightly in the evening light. He wore simple silver hoop earrings that were barely noticeable, but Seungmin noticed. Around his neck, dipping into his neckline was a thick chain necklace, a locket at the end.

“Hello, Seungmin-ssi.”

He has kind eyes, Seungmin thought as he nervously sipped his too-hot tea at their table. They’d been talking softly for about thirty minutes, and Seungmin had only just been able to make direct eye contact, relaxing as soon as he did, the kindness and careful look in Chan’s eyes making him want to melt into the floorboards, becoming one with the restaurant. He could tell that the older man recognized Seungmin’s efforts to look up, the sparkle of pride and appreciation that appeared in his eyes making Seungmin blush a little, blinking sporadically and fidgeting with his mug. His leg continued to bounce, and Chan didn’t seem to even notice, much less be bothered.

“So … your request at the end of the form?” came the gentle voice of the older man, who was now staring at Seungmin with shining eyes, inquisitive.

Seungmin squirmed, inhaling too quickly, feeling his throat constrict. “Is it bad?” was all he could croak in response.

“No,” Chan shook his head quickly, “In fact … in the list of kinks, it’s … rather tame. Safe, if you will.”

Looking down at his still shaking hands, Seungmin managed to nod, even though the words meant nothing. Safe? Hilarious. He waited for Chan to handle the words.

“Can you maybe tell me a bit more about what that means for you? What you’d like that to look like?” Chan asked with every intonation of a pure, honest question.

Seungmin couldn’t look at him.

Cheeks burning and eyes clenching closed, the younger boy stuttered his way through his half-prepared thoughts, ignoring the little voice in his chest, screaming, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!

“Um … so, like, it’s … um, it’s a kink, yeah, of mine, but like … not like in a crazy sexy way, right? Like, yeah, I can get off to it … and I do … but, it’s more of an emotional thing for me? I … have an easier time of it when it’s … when there’s like a real reason for it, and I can feel better afterwards.”

Chan nodded, even though Seungmin couldn’t see him, quietly refused to see him. “That’s good. That means you trust your Dom to take care of you more than anything. Is there something else?”

Shamefully nodding, Seungmin continued, “Yeah, um … so, if maybe … so, if you spank me for something that I’ve done, and … and make me … talk about it, then … then I can work through it in my head, and then my head is clear. And then if maybe I’ve been a … if I’ve been good, then I can get off at the end, after.”

He had to take a deep, stuttering breath, listening to the words echo around his noisy head, his face warm with embarrassment. He was almost in too deep to back out. Almost too late to chicken.

Silence stretched between them, and when Seungmin finally cracked his eyes open to find Chan staring at him with a strange look, a fond, tender expression that Seungmin didn’t know what to do with, his mouth opened again, and he rambled helplessly, voice cracking every fourth or so syllable.

“Is that …? We don’t have to, like it’s fine if you just want to fuck, I don’t have to … you don’t have to do that to me, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it’s weird-“ Too many words, too many words, too much, I’m sorry, too much …

“Seungmin.”

Chan’s stern, soft voice made Seungmin clamp his mouth shut and hang his head, waiting for the polite dismissal. Wrong, wrong, wrong …

What he got instead was a soft, slightly calloused hand gently laying on top of his and Chan’s matter-of-fact voice filling his ears.

“You shouldn’t apologize so much. Some people want me to choke them until they pass out. Some people want me to cut them, to draw blood. Both are reasonable kinks, and both were fine. Trust me,” Seungmin looked up with hot tears in his eyes to find Chan smiling kindly at him, eyes shining with honesty. His hand was warm. Nice. He didn’t want to take his hand back.

“Trust me, Seungmin. Spanking you in a safe environment until you cry, so that you can let go of some emotion, something that you’ve maybe been holding onto for too long … I can handle that. I promise. Don’t be ashamed. Yes, hyung?”

Without his permission, Seungmin’s mouth opened, and he whispered, slack-jawed,

“It’s … it’s so weird, though … it’s almost worse than asking you to diaper me.”

Chan didn’t hesitate. “I can do that, too, if you want.”

His gentle voice rocked through Seungmin like a tornado, and he gasped. That … that wasn’t something he’d even dared to think about before, it … it wasn’t … he didn’t want to keep thinking about it. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong …

“Yes, hyung?” Chan asked, heavier now, commanding.

Seungmin nodded obediently. “Yes, hyung.”

They both had mostly finished their drinks, and the silence between them wasn’t awkward. Just … slow. It needed to be slow and careful. The world became dim around them, evening turning quietly into night. The bell on the hotel door jingled faintly as people came and went, the noise fading to the background, the two boys in their own little bubble.

“I don’t,” Seungmin coughed, bravely breaking said silence. “I don’t really want to use … any things, like nipple clamps or, or dildos, or paddles or anything, is … is that okay? Can you … uh …” he trailed off helplessly, squirming in his chair.

Chan finished a sip of his drink and set it down noiselessly, gracefully holding back what appeared to be a boyish grin. His eyes sparkled when he looked up at Seungmin and softly nodded.

“I don’t need anything but my hands for tonight, Seungminnie. It’s alright.”

Seungmin blinked, feeling his heart hammering between his ribs, and swallowed painfully. He ignored the fluttering feeling of the nickname settling between his ribs. “Oh. Are … really? Whenever I think, um, or whenever my friends talk about BDSM, it’s always … like chains and whips and being tied up and … and I … I …”

Reaching across the table slowly, Chan placed his hands over Seungmin’s again, this time squeezing slightly, and nodding at the younger, interrupting gently.

“You need words or physical touch instead of implements or tools. And that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that. It just means that it’s more in your head than in your body. And both are so, so important.”

Laughing pathetically, Seungmin wrinkled his nose. “I kind of feel like I’m at the doctor’s office. Telling you all the things wrong with me and asking you to fix me.”

Chan giggled, a musical sound that Seungmin immediately wanted tattooed on the inside of his memory, and his eyes sparkled. His eyes disappeared into his cheeks when he laughed. “I understand that feeling, I do. The price probably wasn’t that far off from a hospital bill, either, huh?”

Seungmin blushed and shook his head, waving his hand in front of his eyes a little. “Oh … some of my friends pitched in to help out with the cost, don’t … don’t worry about that. Plus, I had some savings randomly set aside. Graduation cards and Christmas money, you know?”

“Wow,” Chan breathed, his eyes widening kindly and he sat back in his seat, twirling the tag of his tea bag in his fingers. Seungmin’s hands felt cold without the touch. “Your friends must care a lot about you. That’s incredibly kind of them.” He looked off to the side for a moment, chewing his lip, his eyebrows knitting slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

Seungmin nodded before Chan had even finished asking the question. “Of course.”

“If you have friends in … the community, and you have needs, how come …“

“How come I didn’t ask them?” Seungmin finished, and Chan nodded, eyes darting back to the younger boy’s face, gentle inquisition lighting up his expression.

Seungmin finished his tea and set the cup aside, folding his hands politely in his lap as he gathered his answer.

“I should have, I know, but … and it’s not that I don’t trust them, I do, with my life, I just … I thought it’d be weird, you know? Like …” He heaved a sigh and found himself looking up at Chan with wet eyes, unconsciously begging him for help with the words again.

Chan nodded softly, his eyes kind. “Like they’re almost too close for you to ask. You’re nervous because they mean so much to you, and you don’t want to ruin anything, so you’re better off finding a stranger. Yeah?”

Seungmin pressed his lips together hard to avoid the horrid, weak sound that was threatening to come out of him and merely nodded. Shakily, he allowed himself another breath.

“Anything else the doctor can do for you?” Chan asked softly, lightly, and winked, and while the bit was good, Seungmin still felt very much like a child at a hospital, listing ailments and fantasies for the nurses and doctors to smile and giggle at before sending him home with a grape lollypop. Maybe a sticker. If he was good.

“Um,” he looked down, the kindness in Chan’s eyes doing something strange to the back of his throat, “I might freak out if you, ah, if I take off my clothes, like too fast? I don’t know, I don’t really like being naked.” The words hurt his mouth; Seungmin clamped his lips together and held up a finger just to ask for a little more time.

Chan nodded, his face sad and understanding. “That’s okay. I’m sorry. Unfortunately, we need a little bit of nudity in order for you to get your money’s worth. Or, rather, your friends’ money’s worth.”

The words were back suddenly, and Seungmin opened his eyes, whispering, “Yeah, that’s … I just have to go slow. It’s … easier if I don’t have to look at myself when they come off. Maybe if you like check in with me before you go for it?”

Chan nodded and smiled as if Seungmin was giving him a simple grocery list. “Of course.”

Taking a shaky breath, the younger added, his fingers becoming numb once more, “And … it’s worse if I’m um, cold or … like, wet.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. And, you can always say no or use your colors, yeah? We’re in this together, and it’s not like you’re going unconscious or anything.”

“That would be nice, though. To just … wake up, and nothing’s wrong with me anymore.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan’s voice suddenly became very soft and serious, and the pet name made Seungmin’s chest clench painfully. He looked up to see the older man blinking at him with a gentle sternness, something that sparked his stomach and jumpstarted his nervous system.

“Don’t talk like that. Having complicated kinks, or a complex relationship with sex isn’t wrong. Please, no talking lowly about yourself. This is important for me, think of it as my hard limits. Yes, hyung?”

The soft chastisement, coming directly from Chan’s soul, wrapped around Seungmin like a fuzzy baby blanket, and he only just managed to blink and nod, shakily whispering, “Yes, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.”

Seungmin … didn’t really absorb those words. He wasn’t ready for them, so it was easier to ignore the sound of them. So he nodded a little and looked away, sipping his room-temperature tea and wondering at what point he should walk out of the hotel restaurant and jump off a bridge.

Smiling lightly, Chan reached for the paper napkin that lay underneath his fork and knife and took out a pen from his pocket. Seungmin watched as he comically scribbled across it, likely gibberish, as if he were a doctor writing a prescription. He adjusted his invisible glasses and folded the napkin into a tiny square before standing up, Seungmin standing as well. The older boy rounded the table slowly and before Seungmin could react, tucked the napkin square into the boy’s back pocket, patting it slightly, seductively. The touch burned, but not in a bad way. Seungmin didn’t want to swerve out of the way.

“Well,” something soft changed in Chan’s face, and Seungmin was reminded of the expression on Minho’s face whenever Felix said or did something adorable and teenager-like, bringing out the hyung in his boyfriend, and it felt … Seungmin didn’t know. He wasn’t often the subject of hyung-like affection in his friend group, so it … was different. The feeling sat heavy and strange in the bottom of his stomach. Chan continued, smiling, his dimples peeking out.

“This ‘Doctor’ is happy to be your stranger for the night. Are you ready to head up to our room, now? We can keep talking up there if you want, we have all night.”

Chan held Seungmin’s hand as they rode the elevator up to the hotel room. Seungmin didn’t want to let go. He didn’t linger too much on what that meant, chalking it up to how nervous he was, head going fuzzy and hands tingling from how Chan’s thumb was softly up and down on his wrist.

Once they got inside, Chan had to let go to put his things down and get the room ready, and Seungmin stood quietly just inside the door, taking a second to breathe and absorb the room he’d rented, absorb the fact that it was real now.  

The room wasn’t big, but it was enough. There was a skinny hallway with a bathroom and a small dining area, a long, L-shaped couch with a television, and a large queen-sized bed along the furthest wall. The blinds were cracked open, showing the glittering city below them. The cars’ headlights below reminded Seungmin of fireflies.

As Chan freshened up in the bathroom quickly, the door slightly ajar, his soft, accented voice floated out into the room.

“Okay, so … you’ve paid for the night. Don’t worry about me, yeah? We can, eh …” he rattled around in the bathroom, “We can fall asleep whenever. There’s no time crunch, there’s no hurry. However long it takes us to get you out of your head is perfectly fine, yeah?”

Seungmin nodded, his head full of sand, and swallowed hard. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. Inhaling hurt. Fear rippled gently through him and his chest hurt. He could do this, he would. He promised his hyungs he would get better.

Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and padded over to the couch. He wanted to sit, but his knees were stiff, so he stood awkwardly, listening to the bathroom sink run and closet doors open softly.

After a few moments, Chan poked his head around the corner, squinted, and looked appraisingly over at Seungmin. “Have you … like, are you … um,”

Seungmin nodded and blushed. “Not a virgin, no.”

“Ah,” Chan rubbed his neck, turning back to the sink. “Can I ask?”

Knees unlocked and finally sitting down against the pillows, Seungmin ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, it was alright. Just a few times, in high school. I didn’t really like it, but I think it was more the hook-up part of it, like the other person being a stranger, more than the actual sex that rubbed me a little wrong.”

Chan poked his head around the bathroom doorframe once more, face entirely blank.

“Seungmin, I’m a stranger.”

“That’s …” Seungmin looked down, shaking his head seriously, “different. This is different. This is … I’m asking you to do this. There’s only so much I can do to myself, alone.”

The younger looked up and tried to smile, a valiant effort. “There’s only so many times I can put myself in timeout.”

“Have you ever spanked yourself before?” Chan walked out of the bathroom toward the bed, motioned vaguely to the mattress, and Seungmin stood up, watching the elder turn back the sheets, folding them nicely at the foot of the bed.

Seungmin’s throat constricted at the question, and all he could do was nod slowly when Chan looked up expectantly. He had. It was horrible, and left him feeling like a fool, with a twisted shoulder and tears lingering in his eyes for days afterward.

Finishing with the sheets, Chan gestured for Seungmin to sit down. “Well,” he sighed, and smiled, “I will take good care of you, tonight, hyung promises.”

He looked down at the younger with a tender look in his eyes, and for a fleeting, awe-filled moment, Seungmin believed him. But it was quickly stamped down, as a nervous sweat broke out and his vision clouded. He looked away before he began gasping like a needy dog.

“Do you have any hard limits?” Chan was unpacking something from his bag by the door now, and he placed the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob before locking the bolts for the night.

Seungmin didn’t hear him, nervousness and anticipation lighting his veins on fire as he drilled his gaze into the tan-gold carpet underneath his socked feet. Distantly, through the fog, he heard Chan gently approach once more, standing a mere foot away now.

“Seungmin, this is really important. I need to know if there’s anything that is a hard, solid no for you. Please? Nothing is too bad, nothing is so horrid that would make me want to leave, yeah? It’s all normal, and you deserve someone who will listen and respect you for having any. Even a stranger.”

Chan was on his knees now, in front of Seungmin, holding the boy’s hands gently within his larger ones, but Seungmin felt very small just then. As if someone had literally shoved him in a shrink machine and he was eight years old again. He was filled with a visceral need to be the one kneeling. His neck ached with the desire to be even smaller, younger. He blinked hard before looking up at the elder, feeling safe in the way Chan waited for him to find his response.

He didn’t want to take his hands away.

His voice was scratchy and high-pitched, and he felt horrible saying the words, but he managed to whisper, feeling very much like a five-year-old,

“You, you c-can’t yell at me, I’m sorry, please don’t yell at me, please …”

Tears filled his eyes, and he forced himself to look away, his cheeks coloring in shame.

“Alright, I won’t. I promise, no yelling. That’s no problem.” Chan’s strong, soft voice filled his ears and the strong hands in his lap squeezed his shaking ones gently. “Remember what I said? Nothing is too bad, yeah? Can you … can you say it back for me?”

The man’s beautiful, big eyes shone up at Seungmin, and the gentle squeeze of his hands made it easier for him to whisper the words back, the taste of them filling his mouth with a burnt sugary flavor.

“N … nothing is t-too bad that would make you … w-want to leave.”

Surprised that the younger had remembered the rest of the phrase, Chan nodded and pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s knuckles, making the boy shiver slightly, eyes closing tightly at the touch.

Chan stood up, letting go, and slowly walked back to the bathroom, quietly rummaging through the cabinets, no doubt looking for tissues for Seungmin’s teary eyes and runny nose. God, they haven’t even done anything yet, and he was already a mess.

“Alright. Good boy. So, it seems that aftercare means just as much to you, if not more, than the actual sex. Does that sound right?”

Seungmin had been suddenly overwhelmed by the soft, soothing smell of fabric softener that wafted up from the hotel bedsheets, and how comforting the blankets felt underneath his hands. The window was cracked open, letting in the soft sounds of the street beneath them as well as a gentle, cool breeze. The faint taste of tea lingered in the back of his throat as he swallowed hard, hearing his ears fuzz with the motion. It was … too much, he couldn’t turn it off, too much, too much, too much …

“Seungmin-ah?”

“Sorry, what?” Seungmin looked up quickly, finding Chan leaning against the bathroom doorframe now, looking at him with a gentle exasperation. In the time that it had taken for Seungmin to overthink his entire human experience, the elder had found the bottle of champagne from the hotel staff and popped it, filling two small flutes.

“I was asking if you knew what aftercare was?”

The word sounding foreign in the boy’s ears, Seungmin slowly shook his head, before automatically uttering, “I’m sorry …”

Shaking his head, Chan padded across the hotel room and sat in the chair next to the bed, setting a few things down on the bedside table along with the champagne glasses, folding his hands and somehow hardening and softening his voice at the same time.

“From now on, no more apologies unless I cue you. Yes, hyung?”

Without thinking or blinking, Seungmin breathed, “Yes, daddy …”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up, and he visibly held his breath, leaning his elbows on his knees and blinking gently at Seungmin. The room became very quiet, very quickly.

Suddenly bewildered, Seungmin winced and looked down, shrinking in on himself, “I’m so-sorry, I didn’t, um … I’m sorry …” Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong …

“Seungmin. I just gave you a direction. Do you remember what it was?” Chan was looking at him with a stern expression now, and Seungmin’s stomach rolled, his hips twitching at the tone.

“Um,” he whispered, “Not to apologize anymore. Unless you tell me to.”

Chan nodded once. “And you said yes. And then, what did you do?”

Seungmin hung his head, tears brimming in his eyes. How could he have fucked this up so fast?

“I said I was sorry for c … calling you th-that …”

Suddenly, it was nearly impossible to breathe, and he couldn’t see through his damp, clumping lashes. He couldn’t breathe anymore.

Chan crossed the space between them and quickly gathered Seungmin in his arms, gently pulling him to his broad, warm chest. Seungmin froze at first, feeling encased in … something, warm, Chan … but closed his eyes, squeezing the tears from them, and let himself be held.

He didn’t want to pull away.

“It’s alright. I forgive you. You weren’t ready to say yes to something that serious, and that’s alright. I’ve got you. Can you look at me, can you hear me now?”

Softly, Seungmin raised his head and blinked shakily up at the man, his heart stuttering in his chest at the tenderness in Chan’s eyes, much closer now. The older man nodded softly and continued, his low voice instantly calming.

“Do you know what foreplay and aftercare are? It’s okay if not.”

Seungmin shook his head, sealing his mouth shut, keeping the apology held tight inside.

“I’m going to explain them to you, now, is that alright? Are you ready?” Chan pulled back from the hug and sat on the bed next to Seungmin, keeping an arm over the boy’s shoulder and giving him a moment to wipe his eyes and take a deep breath. The younger boy nodded and looked down at the floor, quietly listening. He could do this, he would. He promised.

Chan handed him one of the flutes of champagne, and he took a sip, swallowing too hard, reveling in the dry, cold sting as the older began speaking.

“So, sex happens in the middle. Foreplay happens before, and aftercare happens after. They’re both really important to the sex, and especially in scenes like this, where you and I don’t know everything and anything about the other and I can’t guess correctly what you like or need based off of that relationship and we can’t go about it without talking about it. Does that all make sense?”

Seungmin nodded and closed his eyes. “I wish you could just read my mind,” he whimpered and felt Chan huff a small laugh next to him.

“I know, baby. I know. But we can do this. You can do this, yeah?”

Baby.

“Okay,” Seungmin breathed, feeling the alcohol heating up his stomach and his cheeks.

Suddenly, he was speaking, his mouth working ahead of his head as the words left him tired. “My friends say that I’m touch-starved,” he blurted. “But … I get nonverbal sometimes after a lot of skinship. So … maybe, um, maybe for afterwards, just … like, cuddling? Is that alright?”

Chan nodded, his eyes wide and loving again. “Of course, that makes sense. We wouldn’t want you not to be able to speak during a scene, unfortunately. But as soon as it’s over, of course, I’d love to hold you.”

Relief filling his chest and throat, Seungmin could only let go of his breath and nod slowly.

“Now, what about … beforehand? Foreplay. Besides the spanking, is there anything that you need to have happen before the scene begins?”

Feeling a flicker of bravery briefly flash before his eyes, Seungmin glanced up at Chan, his voice crackling slightly, “I need to … think about it, for a minute … sorry …”

Chan placed a warm hand on Seungmin’s knee, the feeling sending bolts of lightning up the younger’s thigh and nestling, sparking, in his hips. He looked down, watching the veins in Chan’s hand and the fingers that effortlessly wrapped around his leg, before looking back up, finding the elder’s eyes already on him. Something big and scary wrapped around his lungs and he bit his lip hard.  

“Don’t say sorry. I’ll wait right here with you, take your time,” Chan whispered, and blinked, eyelashes fluttering beautifully before adding, voice feather-light,

“Daddy’s right here.”

And, oh … Seungmin was definitely hard. He’d been semi-hard all day, since waking up and imagining how tonight was going to go. At work, squirming under his desk. At the café, waiting patiently like a good boy.

Feeling a smidge of embarrassment, he took a deep breath and squeezed his thighs together, creating a blissful blink of friction. He barely placed the champagne glass down before he dropped it, nodded, and tried to smile, looking up quickly to catch the older boy’s eyes.

“That. That’s … that’s good,” he licked his lips and felt his hips desperately want to pitch up into … something.

Chan nodded, eyebrows rising a little. “My words? My voice? Just a little bit of touching, over clothes?”

Seungmin nodded, mouth open slightly. “Yeah,” he breathed, starting to rock back and forth the tiniest bit, unconsciously.

“Have you been punished like this before?”

Seungmin looked down, feeling his brain shut down a little at the question, despite how ready his body was. The whiplash was amplified by the slight bit of alcohol swimming in his stomach now. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t you fucking dare think about it.

He nodded, looking away, Chan’s eyes too much, too much.

“But this is still different?”

Another nod, stronger this time. His leg bounced up and down, underneath Chan’s burning hand, the nervousness overwhelming his hardon to the point where he felt like a sweatshirt turned inside-out, sleeves and ugly seams all skewed and backward.

“Okay. So …” he slid a little closer to Seungmin on the bed, laying one leg flat against the mattress directly behind the boy, and began slowly counting on his fingers.

“I just want to make sure I got everything. You don’t really like being naked, sometimes you can’t speak after too much physical touch, and you want to be spanked over my knees in order to get out of your head enough to actually enjoy the sex. Oh, and no yelling. Only soft words. That sound about right?”

Seungmin winced and folded into himself, pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his face. “When you say it like that, it sounds impossible, hyung …” he whined, and felt Chan reach up to ruffle his hair and sigh softly, the gentle smile apparent in his voice.

“It’s a tall order, but nothing I can’t handle. Hyung’s got you.”

Seungmin watched Chan get up and silently pad over to the thermostat on the wall to turn it up slowly with one hand, the other reaching over to dim the lights of the hotel room. He looked incredibly handsome from that angle, but Seungmin didn’t have enough time to process that, though.

For, with the low lights and the warmth slowly filling the room, it was as if he could finally open his eyes all the way, and he reflexively took a deep breath, his mind clearer.

On one of the bedside tables, next to the lamp, was a set of sleek, black speakers and an auxiliary cord, which Chan pulled his phone out and plugged it into. After a few moments of scrolling and humming in consideration, the older boy tapped on a playlist and music began to waft out of the device, not too soft, but not too loud.

Seungmin couldn’t help but smile carefully, picking at one of his cuticles distractedly. “BTS, really?”

Leaning against the edge of the mattress, Chan’s thighs straddled Seungmin’s lap without much warning, rendering the younger speechless and a little surprised. The elder reached down and threaded his fingers ever so softly into the boy’s hair, tipping his head back slightly in the process. It was so careful, so … good.

“You don’t mind.”

“How’ve you thought of everything already?” Seungmin barely gasped before he ran out of literacy skills completely, the ticking of his battery blaring red in his mind’s eye. His neck ached with relief as he was tipped back up, and he blinked wildly.

Chan pecked him on the cheek and smiled. “What can I say? I’m good at my job.”

That’s right. Chan’s job. This was a job. Nothing special. A paycheck.

Seungmin was slowly … sinking back into his head …

However, the feeling of one of Chan’s hands shadowing closer and closer to his groin jerked him from his spiral, causing him to gasp and his hands flew to the man’s stomach, fisting through the fabric of his shirt.

“Alright. Can you tell me that it’s alright to begin? I promise I’ll go slow, and you know how to yellow or red out if you have to. Can you tell hyung when you’re ready?” Chan leaned a little closer, and a lovely combination of oud and vanilla cologne wafted over Seungmin, causing him to shudder and tip his head back, his cock filling out in his jeans.

Through the beginnings of a dangerously thick fog, thicker than he’d experienced in years, he was able to mumble the words practiced for days leading up to that night, “Yes, Sir. Please … we can begin. I know my colors, and I trust you.”

He missed the way Chan’s mask slipped from his face to reveal a blinding smile of adoration slowly spreading over his face. The man allowed himself a split second and a half of soaking in the nervous yet beautiful look on Seungmin’s face before slipping back into his role.

The fog thickened, but stilled, when Seungmin felt Chan shift on the bed next to him, and a lovely, deep voice floated into his ears, “Darling, may I kiss your face?”

Giggling a little, Seungmin nodded, and even if he wanted to open his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to, for Chan placed feather-light pecks on his eyelids first, followed by his forehead, and slowly, one by one, his eyebrows, cheeks, chin, nose, and finally … finally, his lips. The feeling was soft, grounding, and just enough for Seungmin to take his first, real, deep breath of the night.

They kissed gently, not quite swapping spit but oh, so close, for several long minutes, until Chan pulled back and heaved a soft sigh, causing Seungmin to crack his eyes open, squinting a little at the light intrusion.

He blinked, seeing Chan now towering over him, a tender but firm expression slowly covering his face, as if he were peering into Seungmin’s soul through his pupils, searching, studying.

Seungmin froze, breath suspended in the air in front of him, neck finally able to crane up in order to look in Chan’s eyes, and the elder bit his lip, eyebrows notching in concern. When Seungmin was just getting ready to ask what was wrong, Chan opened his mouth and asked, quietly,

“Before we get too far, is … is there anything you need to ask me, Seungmin?”

He asked with the voice of a slightly disappointed hyung, as if he already knew what the boy was going to say, and the words shook through Seungmin’s body, rendering him stunned and gasping slightly, cock jumping in its painful confines.

He knew what was happening. Chan was giving him the option. Did he want to follow through and ask for a spanking? Did he want to have sex instead, cuddle, and just go to sleep? Either way, he would have done what he promised. Either way, it would have been worth it. This was important, he had to decide … and he couldn’t fuck it up.

And he could still yellow or red out whenever, if it got to be too much. He could. He would. He wouldn’t chicken out if he thought that Chan was … if he … he would.

“Daddy …” he breathed, cheeks flaming and tears brimming in his eyes. “I … I need help, please.”

Chan nodded, slowly folding his massive arms across his broad chest.

“Tell me. What’s the matter?”

Shrinking into himself, Seungmin swallowed hard. This was it, this was the scene, this wasn’t something that they’d spoken about before, he hadn’t given Chan a reason to discipline him yet. When he told him, he’d see every reaction in real time, and he’d have to pay for it.

He blinked, frantically reminding himself that Chan was basically a stranger. He was … safe, he never had to see this man ever again, and if it went badly, if Seungmin freaked out and had to leave, then hey. A few therapy sessions later and a clean slate, he’ll be fine. He’d done it before. This was Chan’s job, the man did this all the time, he was used to customers paying to use him and then leave, never to be seen again.

It was okay.

So, why did he feel like shit? Why did the mere thought of approval and forgiveness from this stranger mean so much to him? Why was his chest sinking inside him at the thought of this man’s eyebrows curving into disappointment, and him hurting Seungmin? Then leaving? On a Thursday, no less?

He decided to take the easy route out. “Something bad … happened to me … when I was younger, and I sort of … carry it with me all the time now. I stopped sleeping, I stopped letting myself eat, and I know it’s hurting me more than … m-more than,” he hesitated, knowing these words sounded frankly terrible.

He swallowed hard, whispering, “More than I planned.”

Chan’s eyebrows twitched, and he merely nodded for Seungmin to continue.

The boy swallowed hard and looked at the floor, twisting his hands in his lap. “Can you …” he closed his eyes tight and willed himself to finish. Wrong, wrong, fuck, wrong …

“Can you help me? Can you … spank me, please? I need … I need it to hurt, so I can let it go.”

Hanging his head, he waited for Chan to laugh at him, or the same old, same old condescending speech to begin. He’d gotten it before. He’d memorized it.

He heard fabric rustling gently and opened his eyes to see Chan kneeling on the carpet in front of him, a kind, small smile on his face, replacing the mild disappointment that had run through Seungmin’s heart earlier.

“That was very brave of you, Seungminnie. You did so well, asking for your punishment.”

Not what the boy was expecting, the soft words made Seungmin’s stomach swoop painfully and he blinked, feeling his cheeks warm up again. He didn’t know what to say, the words vanishing from his mind, so he was thankful when Chan nodded and continued.

“I can spank you, darling. Of course I can. Before I do, though …”

The man trailed off into a whisper before slowly lifting his hands to place them palms up on Seungmin’s knees, looking expectantly up at the boy.

Seungmin was confused, the feeling of Chan’s wrists sitting on his lap strange and … strange. He looked up and down, from Chan’s face to his hands, a questioning sound coming from his throat.

Chan nodded and took a deep breath before saying, softly, “You look like you could use some time to … touch them, and to be okay with them touching you back. Go ahead, it’s okay …”

In a daze, and without much thought, Seungmin’s fingers flickered down towards Chan’s palms, hovering over the warm skin as he tried to blink his racing heart away. After a moment, though, Chan’s hands rose a fraction of an inch, and they were touching.

The feeling wasn’t entirely foreign, they’d held hands three times that night already, but this … this was a little different. Chan, on his knees, presenting Seungmin with the hands that were about to inflict on him the pain he’d asked for.

Eyes glued to the smooth, pale skin of Chan’s hands, Seungmin started running his fingertips all along the man’s palms, feeling the wrinkles and veins and the buzzing of nerves underneath the skin as he did so. Up and down, from the very ends of his fingers to the man’s forearms, where the sleeve of his sweater reached, he rubbed and stretched his fingers. He felt every dip and curve, every nail, knuckle, and cuticle, and one long, mostly faded scar that ran up Chan’s left wrist, stopping just above his thumb.

Seungmin looked up, concern bubbling in his stomach, and Chan shook his head reassuringly, “Years ago,” he murmured, eyes gently boring into Seungmin’s face as the boy took in the words and went back to examining and searching, getting to know Chan’s hands and in turn, a piece of Chan himself.

Long minutes passed, and Seungmin blinked himself out of his daze, considering how much Chan’s knees had to be burning by now, sitting up and back, and with a sudden burst of courage, lacing his fingers with Chan’s gently, bringing them to his chest. He looked up at Chan and nodded, biting his lip before mumbling,

“Okay. I’m ready.” His mouth was dry, and his legs were numb. But he was ready.

Seungmin told Minho about the time when he was eight and he was locked in the closet and beaten, and Minho had cried. Minho never cried, but Seungmin made him cry. The older boy had immediately tried to hug him and tell him he was loved, but something small and ugly inside him made him dodge out of the way, claiming it was just a rough hand he’d been dealt. He got over that, and the rest of it. He was fine now. And he was.

He'd then drank a little too much at graduation and admitted to Hyunjin that he’d never had a good experience with sex, the few times he’d done it with hookups ending in him hurting himself on purpose to get the terrible feeling of wet and cold off of himself, or refusing to let himself finish, only blowing the other and saying goodbye.

Hyunjin was horrified, and as his eyes welled up in sympathy, Seungmin’s alcohol-basted heart sank, and he kicked himself inwardly. Apologizing, he’d left the campus bar before the older could even think about comforting him.

Back at the dorm that night, Felix must have heard something from Hyunjin, for he wrestled Seungmin onto the couch and physically forced him to watch a show and cuddle to sleep. It was uncomfortable, still in his work clothes, but something in Felix’s warm arms and snuggly words began to thaw his soul a little. Or maybe it was the soju. He wouldn’t know.

Then, six months later, at Seungmin’s 19^th birthday dinner that was just a box or two of pizza and a baseball game rambling on the TV in the corner, Minho called him over and began what looked an awful lot like an intervention.

“I’m … I’m fine, hyungs, I’ll … I’ll just … I’ll just be alone. I don’t need … like,” he stammered, trying to look at his three roommates all at the same time, the beginnings of panic settling into his chest.

“Lovingly, Seungmin, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.” Hyunjin got off his sofa and thunked down hard onto his knees, looking up at Seungmin with big, serious eyes. Seungmin’s chest locked up at his hyung’s position, and he was effectively silenced.

Felix was next, leaning forward and whispering slowly, noticing the boy’s struggle with words at the moment, “You can’t … nobody can self-love themselves out of the need for human connection and touch.”

“And knowing you, you won’t even get to the self-love part. You’ll just work yourself until you die.” Ever the blunt speaker, Minho quirked his eyebrow at his dongsaeng and folded his hands passively in his lap.

Seungmin didn’t know at what point he’d started to cry, but it was after Felix pushed a drink into his hand and he’d drained it. Hyunjin was closer now, a hand resting on the boy’s ankle, but Seungmin couldn’t feel it.

Words were too much, but he nodded along as his hyungs came up with a gentle, thought-out plan. He tried to laugh at himself, but the ugliness in his belly kept him from making too many jokes at his own expense.

His laptop was put in his lap, and his fingers twitched at the keyboard.

He could do this. He could. He would.

For some reason, probably because he was a human with decent critical thinking skills and a half-way developed nervous system with real-life reaction times … as he was gently guided to slowly lay over Chan’s lap, he was thinking bad, bad thoughts about his hyungs. Something along the lines of fuck THOSE guys.

He felt his cheeks flush as he got settled comfortably, Chan’s knees digging solidly into his stomach, and placed his hands on the carpeted floor of the hotel bedroom. His teeth hurt, he bit down too hard. His legs dangled only a little, his feet finding purchase after a few moments. His stomach burned, but he blinked the nausea away.

A small thorn, wedged between his collarbones since before he could remember, began to wiggle loose.

Chan’s hands were comforting on his back, not near his hips at all. He felt through his ribs the man taking deep, slow breaths that he unknowingly began to mirror, his chest relaxing more at each one. His body melted a little lower, and the aches receded.

“I know you don’t like being naked,” Chan’s low voice made Seungmin’s throat constrict, and he closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next.

“But I need to see what I’m doing. I need to know I’m not hurting you. Is that alright with you?”

Managing to nod his head, Seunmgin croaked, “Y-yes, hyung.”

Chan’s warm fingers pulled the hem of the boy’s shirt up just a fraction of an inch, making him shiver a little. As he tugged the waistband of his jeans lower and lower, catching on the boy’s underwear as well, Seungmin was filled with fear, and he managed to gasp,

“Hy-hyung … slower? Please?”

Chan’s hands stopped immediately and flattened to hug Seungmin’s hips, the warmth flooding his body.

“Of course. I’m so sorry, baby. Hyung is sorry,” he whispered, filling Seungmin with relief and a flicker of happiness. He stopped. Because Seungmin asked. He stopped.  

After a long minute, he was able to swallow hard and murmur, “Alright, you … you can keep going.”

Oh, so slowly, Chan’s hands shimmied Seungmin’s jeans and boxers down past his ass, revealing thighs, and settled them comfortably at his knees. The warm air of the hotel room made it bearable, and he felt his cock twitch minutely at the feeling of Chan’s pants pressing into his bare skin. This was it, this was happening.

“Good boy. What an angel ...”

Seungmin hung his head lower and braced himself for the first hit. Something old, something dormant in his body was familiar with the action, and he found himself taking a deep breath, relaxing his muscles so it would hurt less.

But then, he stopped himself. He wanted it to hurt, and that was perhaps more humiliating. What was wrong with him? Was he even fixable? Was he even worth fixing?

“I’m going to start soon, yeah? Can you tell me you’re here with me?”

What a strange question, but Seungmin responded by reaching back with his left hand and opening it, closing it, opening it again, until Chan’s warm hand filled it.

I’m here. Please help me.

The music was just loud enough for the sound of Chan’s hand crashing down on his bottom to not be too much, not painful enough for Seungmin’s ears. He winced when the pain rocked through him at the single spank, but he found himself melting into the feeling, the sharpness, the texture of Chan’s palm resting on the reddening skin.

After he caught his breath, two more smacks followed in quick succession. He closed his eyes, finding his head clearing slightly, only focusing on the next one.

“Are you still with me?” Chan’s voice rang out, the beautiful tone matching the firmness of his hand. Spanks four, five, and six garnished his words.

“Yes, sir … I’m sorry, sir … thank you, sir …”

After a handful more, Seungmin stopped counting, getting lost in the burn. Chan rested his warm hand on the small of Seungmin’s back, fingers heavy over the fabric of his shirt, taking a small break. “You called me daddy, earlier. Want to tell me where that came from? Remember our promise.”

He brought his hand down three more times, casually dishing out a spanking in the middle of an important conversation.

Biting his lip, Seungmin hung his head and whined, gritting his teeth before answering. “I … I don’t really know why I said it, I’ve never … I don’t have a f- a dad, I grew up in the foster care s-system, I’ve never called anyone that before, it just … it flew out of me, I’m-“ he stopped himself from apologizing by slapping a hand over his mouth, a dry sob falling out from behind his fingers before he could think.

From his position, jack-knifed over Chan’s lap, he couldn’t see the tear that threatened to spill out of Chan’s eye or the heartbroken expression that flickered briefly over the man’s face. He didn’t see the words that were resting on the man’s lips.

To both of their surprise, Seungmin blurted out, ripping his hand away and bracing himself on the floor,

“I’ve been … I’ve been hit before, I’ve been spanked before, and … and it was bad, I … I know, I know it’s not supposed to be like that, and I … and you …”

Running out of words, he squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head further, once more wanting to disappear and die. Please, God, just let me die.  

Chan’s voice was suddenly closer, the man leaning behind his ear and gently commanding, voice low and soft, “Breathe, darling … you’re doing so well … deep breath …”

After Seungmin was able to inhale without choking, Chan asked, his strong hand still rubbing soothingly over the pink-red flesh of the boy’s bottom, “This spanking that didn’t go so well … does it have anything to do with your slight dislike of being naked, do you think?”

The boy swallowed hard, staring at the floor in front of him. “Probably.”

Without much warning, two spanks knocked into him, and he closed his eyes again, sinking into the softness of the hand that rested in his hair. The burning increased, almost to that delicious, unbearable point, and he felt his throat begin to clench.

Was this what he was searching for? Was this what was going to fix him?

Ten or so more pops on the round, red flesh of his bottom later, he was slowly shaking with tears, letting them run down his nose and hit the floor underneath him.

Yes, this had to have been what he was looking for.

Slowly, Chan’s hand ghosted down Seungmin’s thigh, before his fingers tangled with the fabric of the boy’s jeans and underwear that were gathered behind his knees. The younger barely registered the feeling, taking the small break by the throat and using it to catch his breath and attempt to gather his composure.

“Are you ready for me to take these off now?” Chan asked, and Seungmin nodded.

The elder’s hand didn’t move. “I’m trusting you to mean that ‘yes’, baby. I need your words. Are you ready for me to take some of your clothes completely off?”

Picking his face up out of his hands, Seungmin swallowed his tears and murmured through the haze that was his brain, “Yes, hy-hyung. I’m, um, I’m ready.”

The warm air of the hotel room felt slightly cooler on Seungmin’s legs as they were slowly undressed, and he twitched a little, moving his legs so Chan could easily slide his jeans and boxers off his feet. His socks stayed on, the feeling sending pleasant shivers all along his body. Chan’s hand was back, kneading at his thighs and bottom.

Now dressed in only his shirt and socks, Seungmin wiggled slowly so his arms and head were now propped up on the mattress next to Chan’s hip, instead of hanging down towards the floor. The change in position allowed Chan to run his other hand up and down Seungmin’s shoulders, a feeling he had been needing for quite some time now.

“Good boy. My good boy.”

Chan’s voice washed over Seungmin and he managed another deep breath.

He was so close to being empty, ready … he found himself leaning into Chan’s side, feeling the warmth of his ribs seep into him, and could sense the moment the elder raised his hand to bring it back down, continuing his punishment with seventeen rapid smacks.

Wailing brokenly into his arms, Seungmin kicked one leg out at the incessant burning. Tears bubbled out of him and he was finally, finally able to relax in the emptiness that was his brain.

Chan rubbed over the boy’s ass, the warm fingers soothing some of the pain, but pressing down just enough to make it linger, seeping deeper into Seungmin’s body.

“This is going to be the hardest part, baby. Can you give me your color?”

Anticipation lit Seungmin on fire, and he managed to whisper, “Hy-hyung … I …”

Smack!

“No, honey, no thinking. Color.”

“I-“

Smack!

“Green! I’m sorry!” Seungmin bit his wrists, groaning through the pain.

Chan leaned over his back, pressing his lips into the boy’s hair. “Oh, good boy … you’re doing so well, almost there, right?”

Seungmin managed a strangled, “Mmhmm …” before squirming for the first time, his hips digging into Chan’s lap.

Slowly, heavy hands wrapped around his hips, tipping him forward over Chan’s knee, so the undercurve of his bottom was tilted upwards, and Seungmin groaned in realization.

This was going to be hard.

“I’m not going to lecture you. You’re already in your head enough. But, I am going to give you ten more, and by the end, you had better be out. Yes, hyung?”

Gasping at the low, raspy tone that Chan adopted, Seungmin nodded furiously.

“Yes, hyung, I can, I can, I can d-do it …”

Chan ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, smoothing the damp ends away from his eyes, and whispered, “I know you can, angel.”  

The ten spanks to his upper thighs sent him careening into a black hole, and he whined through his tears, grasping at the sheets under him for balance. Fuck, it hurt. Finally.

A long minute of stillness passed, and he was able to calm down, only able to think about the throbbing pain and tingling hints of something else. He let the tears and snot run down his face, unable to care, and after a while, he was able to inhale without thinking he’d hurl.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever get over his nerves and let the feeling of arousal finally wash over him, Seungmin felt Chan’s hands … change slightly.

He couldn’t open his eyes yet, still buried within the crooks of his elbows, but he had little to no control over the sounds coming from his mouth. Chan’s fingers sunk deeper into his hair, the man’s fingernails scratching pleasantly on his scalp, making him whimper and sigh, forcing him to take deep, racking breaths. The thorn in his chest wiggled slightly as it was pushed out of him, silently clattering to the floor.

His thighs and ass were on fire, the pain beginning to seep into his stomach and back, and the familiar humiliation hovering over him like Eeyore’s raincloud. He sniffled wetly and was about to open his mouth to ask … something …

When Chan’s right thumb and middle finger parted his ass cheeks, the warm air of the hotel room was rushing to the most private parts of him, driving a wonderful shudder up his spine and pre-come from his cock.

Seungmin gasped loudly when he felt Chan inhale softly and blow onto the boy’s hole, making it wink up at him. Before Seungmin could protest through his drooling whines, Chan murmured, low and thrumming in his chest,

“I see you, baby.”

Groaning into his arms, Seungmin was on fucking fire. The missing piece of it all, the last of his bashfulness floated away, his cock hardening painfully against Chan’s jeans, and his belly clenching finally in arousal. He was almost there, approaching a precipice, his mind whirring slowly like a rattling fan.

“There you are …”

So close … he could feel his soul beginning to shake and crack open, sweat pouring off of his forehead, dripping down his nose alongside the salty tears. He wiggled helplessly as Chan continued to spread him open, staring down at him. The older man still had a hand in Seungmin’s hair, the gentle weight of it simultaneously keeping the boy facedown in his arms. Blissful, Seungmin sunk slowly into the feeling of being softly pinned.

“So pretty.”

Seungmin bit down on the skin of his forearm, mumbling through his spit and tears and snot and sweat, “Oh, my God …” while grinding a stuttering pace down into Chan’s thighs.

Smack!

Seungmin yelped as he was spanked hard, once, and Chan’s voice floated through the fog into his ears once more.

“Stop that, darling. If you need to bite down on something, use a pillow, yeah? We’re almost done.”

Seungmin let go of his arm to whimper, without thinking, “N-no …”

Chan rubbed the red skin where he had just hit, “No, what, baby?”

“Don’ wanna be done …” Seungmin whispered,

Fingers dipping lower, still holding Seungmin’s cheeks apart and sending tingling bolts of lightning directly into his hips, Chan chuckled softly.

“Not … done with everything, baby. Just this part. Almost ready, is what I meant. Now, hush, don’t think too hard, I can feel your head overheating.”

The elder’s hands coaxed the edge of Seungmin’s shirt up his back and over his head, slowly, and it was as if the last piece of the boy’s defense was gently taken down. Seungmin shakily reached for the article as it was pulled from him, and Chan wordlessly handed it down to him, letting him hold it close to his face, burying his eyes and biting down hard on the fabric as Chan raised his hand and began again.

Smack!

Each spank brought a fresh thought to his tired, tired mind.

Smack!

Locked in the closet.

Smack!

Fucked too rough in the gym lockers, left to cry and put himself back together.

Smack!

Not enough for his situationship.

Smack!

Not letting his best friends hug him.

Smack!

Not enough.

Smack!

Not enough.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong …

Seungmin’s ears filled quickly after that, sounds becoming warped and he felt like he was dangerously deep underwater. Chan’s soothing voice was muffled and strange-sounding, even as Seungmin sobbed brokenly into his arms.

After several long minutes, he felt the man’s large, strong hands gently press into his ribs, under his armpits, and he was lifted up off Chan’s lap, turned upwards, and into the man’s chest, which he immediately wrapped his arms around. Clinging to the fabric of Chan’s shirt, Seungmin could barely even register the agonized burning in his bottom as he cried.

His head rushed with blood, and he mourned, finally, he mourned. He was so close to finally being given the chance to grieve something, something festering, waiting. So close, it hurt, his stomach clenching in pain.

The guilt didn’t leave him. The longer he cried, the bigger the hole in his belly grew, until he was heaving, longing for air, fingers frantically scrawling across Chan’s shoulders, searching for peace. His breath grew frantic, his heart hammering uncontrollably between his thorn-less ribs. He ached with need, his stomach clenching to the point of almost vomiting.

“Seungmin-ah.”

The quiet voice quickly tore the boy from his spiraling thoughts, and he picked his head up out of the man’s chest. Holding his arms tight against his naked chest, he quivered, sitting straddling Chan’s lap.

The older boy, in smooth motions, took his own shirt off, baring his torso and looking seriously into Seungmin’s red, puffy eyes.

“You’re forgiven,” Chan’s mask slipped for a second, and there. Right there, Seungmin clung to that. Gasping, he felt the older man’s hands gently cupping his wet cheeks and whispering, almost, almost frantically, “You hear my words, baby boy? You’re forgiven … for everything. You can let it go, now, give it … give it to Daddy, I’ve got you. Let it be over, now.”

Seungmin couldn’t take it anymore, wrapping his arms around Chan’s bare shoulders and burying his face in the man’s neck, choking on his tears. Chan’s arms enveloped him tightly, gently, and he was safe, finally … there were soft, kind words filling his ears and floating into his heart, but he couldn’t understand them. He couldn’t do anything but feel.

All of a sudden, nothing mattered except for the man in his arms.

“Baby? Look up at Daddy?”

Seungmin drowsily lifted his head, not quite knowing which direction was up, but he found Chan’s eye with little trouble. The elder smiled at him and pressed their foreheads together before whispering,

“Does my good boy need any more help? Maybe … maybe he deserves something else tonight?”

Shivers coursing through him recklessly, Seungmin only frantically nodded, hands scrambling for Chan’s shoulders, and he involuntarily ground down onto the man’s thigh, groaning high in his throat. He laid his head on Chan’s neck, closing his eyes and biting his red, swollen, bloody lips.

“Please, hyung, please …” He breathed, feeling his sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead and neck. “Please, I … I need you … help me, please … I’ll be good, I promise …” 

He hiccupped into Chan’s neck, swallowing his whimper.

The eldest managed to pick Seungmin up in his arms, the boy’s legs dangling over his hips, and moved him to the other side of the bed, where he could sit against the pillows, leaning back. He rubbed one hand against the back of Seungmin’s head, hushing him gently, and the other hand he soothingly patted on the red, throbbing skin of his ass.

Seungmin didn’t even have the energy to wince as he was sat down on Chan’s lap, only knowing that he needed release, soon. He was most likely drooling on the man’s shoulder, but he couldn’t think that far yet. His hips stuttered and he gasped when his cock began to weep gently, the fabric of Chan’s jeans burning slightly underneath him.

Soft, warm lips pressed against his shoulder, and Chan murmured against his skin, “You’re always good, my baby … always so good … my good boy …”

Seungmin pulled together some of his remaining energy to hoist his body up off Chan’s shoulder and facing the man, he kissed him weakly. Something buzzed in his chest, his fingers twitched at the nape of the elder’s neck, and it was so lovely to be kissed back.

Hearing Chan humming low in his throat to the soft, burbling music that wafted around them, Seungmin felt the man shift underneath him, reaching toward the nightstand drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. Moving so he was kneeling instead of sitting, Seungmin shook his head slightly to wake himself up, blinking rapidly into the dim room.

He took a split second to study Chan as the man leaned over, holding tight to Seungmin’s waist with the other hand. The older boy’s hair was messy atop his head, falling into his eyes and clumping from sweat. His neck was slightly flushed, and his eyes were bright and soft. Bare shoulders were pale and unblemished, flexing gently under Seungmin’s hands, and if the boy had any sense to look lower, he would have found a gorgeous set of abs eventually.

But he was stuck in the man’s eyes. All he knew was the safety, the familiar home of Chan’s gaze, and he leaned closer without thinking, kissing the man’s cheek with trembling lips.

Chan smiled at him, softly, and kissed him back, his hand returning to Seungmin’s hair briefly before the signature sound of a bottle uncapping reached the boy’s ears and he blushed furiously, ducking away from the kiss and desperately trying to tear his gaze down. He couldn’t.

The boy wasn’t able to look away.

Even as Chan stroked him until he was red and aching, the puddle of clear pre-come pooling by his hips and running, dripping onto the mattress, he couldn’t tear his gaze from Chan’s eyes. His bangs dripped into his eyes, and he swiped them away, nothing between them now but hot breaths and gentle smiles.

Even as Chan leaned up to suck a soft love bite into the tender skin of Seungmin’s throat, the red of the mark quickly turning to purple the longer he swiped his hand up and over the boy’s cock, the sound of lube sliding and squeezing floating up from between them. He wouldn’t look down, he couldn’t.

Even as his chest stuttered, heart swelling freely within his ribcage, and his hands desperately searched for purchase against the elder’s body, finally nestling in the soft, feathery curls that fell about his head, and sighed breathily as he crept closer and closer to completion.

As he gasped, ready to start piecing words together in order to warn Chan that he was close to coming, Seungmin blinked wide and shifted, back arching the slightest bit.

Chan nodded and grinned softly. “I know, baby boy. You can come, come for Daddy.”

No longer in control of anything, Seungmin came all over Chan’s hands, the older boy whispering in his ear the entire time.

“I’m here … I’m right here … Daddy’s here, now, baby …”

“There you go … that’s it, little one …”

“So good … my angel, so good …”

Through the bliss of post-orgasm, Seungmin felt a big hand gently press on his ass, pushing him to kneel higher, straighten from his slump. Chan murmured encouragement as he pressed closer to the man’s chest, allowing himself to be moved and maneuvered wherever.

When a warm, wet finger prodded ever so softly and slowly at his hole, it took everything in him to hold in a wail of please, please, please, please, please … and he sank his face into the crook of Chan’s neck, whimpering low in his throat instead.

Chan hummed, rocking them back and forth as he sunk his finger in to the first knuckle, working slowly and carefully to open the boy up. The elder sang low to the song playing, and the melody melted into Seungmin like water in a sponge, helping his muscles to relax and his body to welcome the intrusion.

One finger became two, and the burning arousal returned, causing Seungmin to rock gently with the rhythm, this time his cock finding blissful friction against the skin on Chan’s stomach rather than the rough fabric of his denim jeans. A broken moan fell from his lips, loud in the careful, quiet atmosphere of their room.

Chan didn’t stop, merely slowing his fingers and tipping Seungmin’s chin down with his other hand to level him with a peaceful look and whispering, “Listen … listen to Daddy, baby …”

Without thinking, the pleasure and overstimulation pulsing through his sweaty, flushed body, Seungmin gasped, “I’m listening …”

“Oh, my little angel … so beautiful … so good …”

Seungmin could feel his pupils widening at the praise, and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish. But his chest seized. Beautiful? A surprised sob ripped from him, and he went to bury his face, to hide again. No, he was panicking again, desperation rippling through his veins, even with Chan deep inside him.

“Shhh … you’re okay …” The words scared Seungmin, but he clung to them nevertheless. They were all he had.

“Come on, little one,”

No, no, he didn’t deserve to be called that, he needed it to hurt more, please, oh God, he wanted to disappear forever. Why? Why did it feel like this?

“So good … such a good baby boy for Daddy …”

Two fingers were now three. He was being split open, ripped apart carefully, slowly, and with tenderness.

“You’re so far away … come back, baby?” Chan’s fingers slowed and eventually withdrew, leaving a horrid, horrid sense of emptiness behind, pulling Seungmin from his spiral effectively. He gasped, back in his body, and shook his head quickly, blinking through the fog and painful arousal.

“S-sorry, Daddy … I’m … I’m here …”

Chan smiled lovingly down at him and began moving against the bed, situating them so he was also kneeling, cradling Seungmin in his arms, and kissed the boy’s chin, nose, and cheeks.

“You don’t have to say sorry, baby,” he whispered, and Seungmin almost melted into the sheets as he leaned closer to breathe into his ear, the gentle words sending lightning bolts down his spine, 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you, now, yeah?”

.

.

.

It was quiet.

The sound machine next to the speakers on the bedside table was playing soft, pattering white noise, and Chan’s playlist of gentle pop songs had fluttered down into lullabies. The lights were dim enough for Seungmin to not care what his body looked like. It was warm enough in the hotel room for him not to feel like a scared, cold, little child when he was laid bare and naked for Chan’s eyes.

It was quiet.

His mind wasn’t whirring like a box fan anymore, and his heart wasn’t aching as if he’d been stabbed. He watched with tired, clear eyes, drinking Chan in and savoring every sip. Nothing was breathing over his shoulder, and … in a small corner of his brain, he might have been able to say that he was so, so, irrevocably happy.

It was quiet.

Words were far, far away, and Seungmin knew Chan knew that. The older boy was communicating in touches, in breaths … and Seungmin floundered after each one, desperate for the chance of a phrase, a hidden word here and there, something to hold onto, to feel in his hands, to taste.

Chan shoved his jeans and underwear down and knelt behind Seungmin, always touching him somehow, always telling him I’m here, Daddy’s here. There were heavy fingers in his hair, making his scalp tingle and his face relax. There were hands on his shoulders, lips on his back, pressing softly and carefully. Seungmin tipped his head back reflexively, resting on Chan’s shoulder and baring the expanse of his neck, begging, begging …

Chan’s cock rested deliciously against his hips, and he silently ground back, relieved in the hiss of pleasure that ripped from the man he leaned against. There were hands wrapping around his stomach now, Seungmin’s hands falling to hold them tight, lacing fingers together. For one, two, three, moments they rocked against one another, breaths and gasps syncing.

A tendril of cold weaseled between them, and Seungmin’s eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling, his mind beginning to spin again. Around and around and around, his fingers tightened against Chan’s arms.

The older man, kissing against Seungmin’s neck, whispered, the words sharp and clear and wonderful,

“None of that, darling …”

Before the boy could start thinking about what words would explain what was happening to him, Chan’s arms unwrapped from him, and his body shifted behind him, likely reaching for something.

Seungmin shut his eyes reflexively and gasped when Chan began to wrap a blindfold over his eyes, the black, sheer fabric just dark enough for his mind to silence, and just see-through enough for him to keep his balance. He moaned in thankfulness, sinking back against Chan’s chest and hands resting on the man’s thighs bracketing his own.

He was dripping in lube, the sheets were likely ruined, but he didn’t care. Desperate sounds crept out of his throat, and sweat beaded at his hairline, falling into the blindfold.

“I’ve got you, baby boy. Right here.”

Why were the words here? Seungmin never spoke during sex, was never able to, the words banishing him as soon as his cock was hard. So, why were there words at the tip of his tongue, leaping up and down and begging to be let out? Seungmin trembled with effort, feeling the throbbing heat of Chan’s cock teasing against his hole, and he managed to rasp, his voice sounding underwater in his ears,

“Th … thank you, Daddy … thank you … thank you …”

Chan’s cock slammed into him at a delicious pace, and he wailed at the relief that flooded him, fingers scrambling at the man’s thighs, searching for something to hold onto, to steady himself with as he was quickly losing his balance and his legs trembled terribly underneath him.

As if sensing his impending fall, Chan’s hands softly covered his, the calloused palms quickly wrapping all the way around his fingers, and he lifted them from his thighs to press against the boy’s chest, holding tight. Kisses peppered his back and shoulders, and he was quickly returned to the edge, cock leaking red and tired against his belly.

Pathetic whines filled his throat with the taste of strawberries, and he tipped his head back against Chan’s shoulder, feeling the man welcome him with nuzzles and soft, pleased hums. He gripped Chan’s fingers with his and stopped trying to hold himself up on his knees, letting the man take all his body weight.

“It’s alright, baby …” Chan breathed, his lips tickling the shell of Seungmin’s ear, “You’re safe, you’re here with me … I’ve got you … you can let go, my angel.”

Vaguely, he registered more words hovering at his lips, and he wanted to scream them.

A warm, heavenly feeling filled him, he felt Chan’s cock melting into him from where they were connected, and a soft sigh fell from his lips. His orgasm ripped through him slowly, carefully, and he might have babbled something useless as he fell forward, collapsing forward onto his elbows, Chan following, hands on his back and shoulders, soft words cooing and floating over them both.

It was … a little foggy after that. Chan untied the blindfold with gentle fingers, the black fabric fluttered to the mattress beneath Seungmin’s face, and through his damp lashes, he blinked and stared at it, gasping for breath and feeling his body still writhing in the throes of pleasure. He closed his eyes and went boneless, feeling Chan pull out slowly, hands and chest still touching him somehow, always there.

Seungmin didn’t want to pull away.

Many long minutes passed by.

Through the lovely haze, he vaguely registered being lain on his back, Chan’s gentle hands steady on his back and hips, moving the boy carefully where he wanted him. It felt nice, Seungmin’s muscles turning to jelly and his breathing finally evening a little. Distantly, his bottom burned, but the coolness of the hotel blankets underneath him soothed the pain.

With a whoosh, his mind returned to his body, causing him to tense up, when he felt Chan’s hands go lower, lower … parting Seungmin’s legs and …

Oh.

Chan was inspecting him.

Fingers gently prodded him and smoothed over the sensitive skin there, parting his cheeks to look at just how red he was and then moving his dick to the side, gently touching his balls and taint. Seungmin could practically feel the weight of the man’s eyes as he was looked at, studied, and watched. His hole unconsciously fluttered around nothing, the feather-light touch reigniting his skin.

Oh, this was … this was new.

Seungmin was immediately hard again, his eyes shooting open at how quickly his cock stood to attention at Chan’s touches. He propped himself up on his elbows, arms shaking with effort.

When he gasped, knees jerking slightly, widening, Chan looked up from where he was leaning over, gazing and considering, and smiled lazily at Seungmin’s wide, dark eyes.

“Now, how on earth did I know this would turn you on, huh?

Without knowing why, Seungmin began to whimper, eyes filling with tears for the umpteenth time that night.

Chan shook his head slowly, moving closer to press a kiss to the top of Seungmin’s hip, to the side of his happy trail, sending happy tendrils of pleasure through the boy. “No, baby … you’re alright … I just need to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere, yeah? I’ll be so gentle, I’ll take such good care of you. Can you relax, relax your muscles for Daddy, okay?”

Seungmin’s body reacted before his thoughts could catch up, his arms and legs immediately stopped shaking, and his shoulders sunk a little back into the pillows he was propped up against. An arousal sweat broke out at his hairline and his eyelids became heavy. Chans hands were rubbing gently on his bottom, covering each cheek entirely, soothing the red-hot burn, a finger dipping every once in a while lower, deeper, teasing.

“I’m going to clean you up, maybe put some cream on you, and then if you still want, you can have one more before we go to sleep. Yes, hyung?”

Seungmin nodded, finally closing his eyes, letting the pleasure roll over him like ocean waves, and his ears filled with cotton.

There was a gentle rustling distantly, and then Chan’s hands were lifting his knees up and outwards, bringing Seungmin’s hands up to hold them open. Exposed, Seungmin’s blush returned with vengeance, and he failed to bite back a high, breathy moan.

“Good boy,” Chan whispered, and a cold, wet, cloth started dabbing at his ass, where he knew he was wet and glistening. The sensation ripped through his spine, making him gasp, as the wipe crept closer to his hole, where he was twitching helplessly, waiting for it. Chan cleaned him, teasingly close to where he desperately needed its touch, leaving a cold, damp, tingling sensation in his wake.

Leaving his bottom, Chan wiped in between his thighs, carefully cleaning off the streaks of white, drying cum, and softly cooing under his breath when Seungmin’s cock twitched and jumped at the feeling. He swiped the wet cloth underneath the boy’s balls and laughed softly.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered, making Seungmin choke on his breath.

“Daddy …” he gasped, hands reaching above his head to grasp the silk pillowcase between his shaking fingers. His knees fell to the side, hitting the mattress gently.

“Oh, I know,” Chan crooned, sympathy dripping from his smooth voice, and tears once more gathered in Seungmin’s eyes, not knowing how he could possibly ask for something like this. His cock burned with tired, desperate arousal, and he whined brokenly.

Chan tossed the wipe and took another one out from the package, this time cleaning the boy’s stomach and hips, gathering cum and sweat and humming under his breath.

Then, torturingly so, Chan swiped up and down Seungmin’s cock, the sensation almost too much, almost pushing him over the edge, and he whined like a crying child. Tears fell from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, into his hair and ears. He tossed his head back and forth on the pillow and clenched his teeth, overwhelmed in feeling.

Chan leaned over him, kissing his cheeks and nose quietly, before whispering, “What a good boy, you are, hmm? I’ll take care of you, didn’t I promise?”

Finally, finally, Chan gathered the corner of the wet wipe, gently and beautifully tucking it inside Seungmin’s hole, cleaning him of cum and lube, the blissful, cold feeling just enough, just what he needed. A gorgeous moan ripped out of him, and he sobbed as Chan pushed deeper, swirling in and around him. Just as he was beginning to come, his hips jerking up into the space between their bodies, the older man smoothly ducked down, sucking the tip of Seungmin’s cock between his lips, letting him spend into his warm, wet mouth.

Everything went black after that.

.

.

.

Coming up from the scene was something that Seungmin would remember for a very, very long time. Chan was right, though he didn’t know it at the time, this was the most important part, this was everything to him, sex be damned. Everything, each and every fiber and molecule of his make-up was resting on these few, beautiful moments.

Before he opened his eyes, he knew he was lying down, his hands tightly gripping something cloth, most likely his dress shirt or maybe the blankets of the bed. The sweat had cooled on his body, but he didn’t hate the sensation. He didn’t want to move. The warmth of the room around him suddenly a cloud of the most breathable air he’d ever experienced, Seungmin shakily took a deeper, fuller breath.

He didn’t know how long he was out, but it was more than a few minutes, he knew that for sure. It had to have been. His body was lax, his muscles loose and sleepy. A buzzing energy lingered underneath his skin, however, keeping him from a deep sleep.

Before he could stop himself, a soft noise forced him to flutter his eyelids open, and he was met with the sight of a certain dominant escort, Bang Chan, kneeling at the bedside, dressed in black boxers, and with his head flopped in his arms atop the mattress, fitfully sleeping.

Before he could stop himself, Seungmin reached out with a tingling arm to pet Chan’s hair, something deep in his chest purring, pleased, when the older man instantly calmed at the touch.

Before he could stop himself, Seungmin was wide awake, eyes watering as he watched the beautiful man slowly, endearingly, wake up.

He pulled the sheet closer to his body reflexively, covering more of his nakedness, despite everything he’d let Chan do to him, everything he’d let Chan see. Flicking his bangs out of his eyes, he silently watched the elder stir, mumbling something nonsensical, and raise his head out of his arms, looking around and blinking.

His hair was slightly smooshed, his ears flushed from sleep, his necklace askew across his shoulders, and his eyes were red and heavy, but …

The only thing that mattered was that he was there.

He didn’t leave.

Chan’s eyes swung over to Seungmin, who was quietly staring, a whimper on the tip of his tongue. The elder leaned over, resting his chin on Seungmin’s arm, looking up at him as if he held the stars in his eyes.

“Hi, baby …” he breathed, lips barely moving. Seungmin nodded once, letting Chan know that he could handle a few more words; his timer hadn’t quite run out yet. They had time.

Slowly, smoothly, Chan climbed up onto the bed beside Seungmin, curling his legs underneath him comfortably and not crowding too much over the younger, giving him a quiet bubble of space.

Seungmin didn’t know if he wanted space, but he appreciated the idea. Technically, the scene was over, he didn’t really have to do anything anymore. They could just … go to sleep. And go home in the morning. Seungmin might feel some residual guilt and buy the escort breakfast.

Shame colored his heart at how he’d just internally referred to the man as an escort and he was about to turn over to bury his face in the pillow when Chan leaned closer and whispered,

“Can I tell you something, Minnie-ah?”

The nickname caught Seungmin off guard, but he nodded quickly regardless. Please … please, save me.

He blinked slowly, feeling his eyes finally overflow. How he still had any tears left, he would never know.

Chan’s hands reached down and held his face, just as soft if not softer than when they were in the scene, and he smiled, blushing a little.

“I know …” he started carefully, sounding out every syllable like they were expensive, “I know I’m a stranger to you, even after all of that. But … it’s important to me that you know … Kim Seungmin, I am so proud of you.”

The man’s thumbs gently swiped underneath Seungmin’s eyes, dragging the few tears that lingered across the expanse of his cheeks, and the tenderness in his eyes was enough for the younger to get on his knees and … something. Anything. Anything.

And there it was.

Chan blinked, licking his lips, and whispered, “You did so well, darling.”

Without thinking, Seungmin’s mouth moved, silently, “I did?”

The older man nodded, eyebrows notching in emotion. “You did.”

Seungmin’s heart was tired, not only because of the hard work it had done during the last three hours, but because for nearly twenty-four years … he had been looking, searching for someone to tell him anything even remotely close to what Chan was effortlessly uttering in his ears.

The boy blinked, trying so hard to think of a reason he should leave. Those terrible, terrible words were back, leaping in his mouth, shouting in his brain.

“I love you,” he mouthed instead, the strength needed to speak long gone. His cheeks were wet again. His hands were shaking where they gripped the edge of the hotel comforter. His bangs were in his eyes. Chan looked down at him with shining eyes and dimples that reminded Seungmin of how he felt when he was three years old and loved.

“Oh, my angel … angel baby …” Chan mouthed back at him, leaning down and sliding closer, their knees folding into each other, and nothing else in the world mattered.

Seungmin fell and crashed and burned, and damn him in the end, maybe, damn him if he was being fooled yet again. It was worth it just to feel Chan’s eyes peer into his soul and stay. Even if it was just for the night … damn him.

“I love you, too …”

Seungmin closed the distance between them this time, wrapping his hands around Chan’s shoulders and pressing his lips to the corner of the man’s chin, placing a light kiss to the smooth skin, moving up to his cheek, lingering in the smell of sweat and tears and faint shampoo. Gently, he moved up to straddle Chan’s lap, a familiar place now, and cupped the man’s face to kiss his eyebrows, his forehead, his nose, all over his face, oh, so slowly.

When he finally, finally moved to find his home in Chan’s lips, the older man carefully picked Seungmin up in his arms and laid them both against the mattress, surrounding them with the blankets and reaching above his head to switch off the bedside lamp. They curled into one another, frantic heartbeats slowing as they inhaled each other’s thoughts, kissed each other’s fears, and held each other’s worlds.

Seungmin wouldn’t remember this, but once he’d fallen asleep, gently nestled underneath Chan’s arm, clean and warm and peaceful … Chan curled a little closer and pressed his lips to Seungmin’s hair.

Tears filled his eyes, painful, yearning tears, and he took a silent, deep breath, soaking up the feeling coursing through his body, whispering softly into the night air.

“I’m so sorry, Minnie … you’ve waited so long … so long without someone to take care of you … hyungie’s so sorry … my angel, I’m here, now … I won’t leave you alone.”

Seungmin’s body woke him up out of habit at 6 am, and the sun hadn’t quite yet floated to the top of the horizon, the city beneath them still locked in sleep. He cracked his eyes open and felt his muscles contract slightly as his body woke up fully. Chan was stirring as well, from his spot behind the younger, their arms tangled together on Seungmin’s chest.

The bed was warm, and he did his best to try to fall back asleep … but the words were back, and he was beginning to feel fear grip his stomach once more. Shameful, relentless fear.

He stared out the window, watching the city buzz mutedly, Chan’s arm gently grounding him from where it was twitching across his stomach.

“Do you …” he whispered, feeling the words wake his throat up a little painfully, “Do you have to leave now?”

He felt Chan’s body shift behind him, and a soft, sleepy whisper filled his ear almost as quickly as his oud cologne filled his nose.

“I promised, didn’t I? Tell hyung what he promised you …”

Panic laced Seungmin’s heartbeats, and he stared at the floor, trying to remember what Chan was referring to.

“But … but that … that was …” That was a scene, pretend, fake, a paycheck …

Seungmin sat up too quickly, feeling the dizziness of sleep clinging to his bones as well as the sore reminder of everything they’d done the night before. He blushed at the burn, but it was nothing compared to the confusion thrumming through his body.

Chan sat up as well, arm quickly going to support the wobbly boy, and his voice broke quietly.

“I know … I know it’s not fair, and … and you can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much, yeah? But …”

He rubbed his eyes, sighing, a hint of a whimper falling from behind his lips, and Seungmin gasped at the next words that the man murmured into the muffled morning air.

“But I meant what I said last night, I do love you. From the moment I saw you in the café downstairs, you’ve had my heart like this,” he cupped his hands in front of him and tears filled his eyes.

Seeing the elder in such a state activated something that had been asleep in Seungmin’s chest for his entire life. Suddenly, he was sitting in Chan’s lap, a graceful reflection of their night together hours before, and his arms were cradling the crying man’s head, fingers soothing through his hair.

“Shh …” he whispered, pressing his kisses to the tear tracks along Chan’s cheeks, even as stinging drops fell from his own. They fell back together against the pillows and Seungmin sighed gently when Chan nuzzled his face in the boy’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating smell that lay there.

When the man had ceased his tears, Seungmin picked himself up out of the embrace, taking a deep breath and whispering, watching the man hanging onto his every word and blinking himself awake.

“Let me … let’s shower? And, maybe, um … maybe some breakfast, I know I need, uh, some coffee before we talk about it. Is that … is that okay? Hyung?”

Chan answered with a nod and a kiss pressed to the boy’s nose.

Seungmin showered while Chan stripped the bed of sheets, and Chan showered while Seungmin made it with fresh ones from the closet. They ordered a small breakfast that was mostly coffee and fruit, with a side of fancy-hotel-pancakes, and they ate in silence, in their underwear, on their freshly-made bed. Chan had closed the curtains, disguising the fact that the world was going on without them outside. It was dark, peaceful, quiet, now.

Chan pulled out his phone and that’s when Seungmin remembered.

“Wait, oh my God, you have to go, don’t you? I only paid for the night, I’m so sorry-“

Leaning closer, Chan knit his eyebrows and pressed a finger to the boy’s lips. “Mmmm … nope, don’t worry about that.”

“But I-!”

Chan shook his head firmly. “This is me, off the clock, hanging out with a friend.”

Only partly satisfied with the answer, Seungmin passively sipped his coffee and shoved a strawberry into his mouth, huffing under his breath.

Two hours later, Seungmin lay with his head against Chan’s chest, listening to the man’s heart fluttering gently underneath him. After a long time of just existing, Chan whispered softly against Seungmin’s shoulder, his lips barely moving,

“It sounds like … you lived in a house of slammed doors.”

The words floated between them, shimmering in the dark, before falling like snowflakes, settling on their naked bodies and sinking into their skin. Seungmin wanted so badly to nod his head, to agree with the hypothesis, but he was stuck. Again. Chan’s heart beat a little faster. Thump, thump.

Ever so slowly, Chan maneuvered them so he could see Seungmin’s face cradled in his shoulder, and he leaned down, his slightly damp hair kissing the warm skin of the boy’s forehead.

“I won’t slam the door.” Thump, thump.

Tears sprung unwanted into Seungmin’s eyes, and all he could do was close them and cling a little harder to Chan’s arms, his legs twitching where they were tangled together under the sheets.

“And I won’t yell.” Thump, thump.

His lungs aching for relief, Seungmin inhaled deeply the smell of Chan’s body, and he felt his muscles beginning to relax. Chan meant his words. Chan took care of Seungmin, speaking softly and holding him carefully.

“I love you, hyung.”

“And I love you, baby.”

At around 2 pm, they decided to go home. Chan put his cell number in Seungmin’s phone, and they deliberated over a late lunch before getting dressed and packing up.

Seungmin reached for his jeans and as he pulled them up over his still slightly sore behind, he heard a slight rustling. Suddenly remembering the night before at the café downstairs, he quickly reached into his pocket to retrieve the napkin ‘prescription’ that Chan had given him. It wouldn’t do for the paper to go through the wash when he got home.

As he made to crumple the thing and toss it into the trash, curiosity overcame him, and the black ink scribbled on the inside teased him. He paused and unfolded the thing, his heart skipping a beat as he read the small words that smiled back at him.

Let me say you are good enough.

Shakily, he held up the paper, and stared at Chan, who was wordlessly watching him from across the room, half-dressed and ever so fond. When Seungmin’s mouth opened but no sound came out, Chan nodded and slowly walked over, gathering the boy in his arms for a real hug.

One of his hands slid lower to just above his ass, reminding the younger what had gotten them in his mess in the first place, and he giggled into the man’s bare shoulder. Chan huffed a teasing laugh, and they stayed locked in each other’s arms until their legs cramped and Seungmin’s phone rang, forcing them to return to the real world.

Epilogue

Two weeks later …

Seungmin was still showering when Chan arrived at the apartment, and the older man may or may not have cussed him out a little, catching onto how the boy strategically made him sit in the small kitchen, sweating under his collar as Minho finished making his and Jisung’s dinner. The awkwardness skyrocketed when Chan slowly announced why he was there, and Minho looked him up and down, eyes narrowing in thought, before shrugging and returning to the stove.

Just as Chan was pulling out his phone to send a pleading text to his boyfriend, Minho spoke, voice low and calm, as he stirred veggies with his back to the elder.

“I don’t know who you are, or what you’ve done with my best friend …” Chan froze at the long pause that then ensued, and held his breath, waiting for the imminent threat of death by spatula. Minho slowly turned around, and Chan kept his eyes on the tabletop in front of him, listening obediently.

“But he hasn’t been the same since.”

Chan snapped his head up, terrified, and he was about to blurt out apologies when the other held up and hand, and a shadow of a smirk passed his face. “In the good way, relax. SO. It would be alright if you wanted to stick around. You know, the whole ‘cherishing forever’ stuff. I’d be alright with that.”

Getting the impression that this was a big deal, this confession, this approval, Chan bowed his head and was getting ready to spout something along the lines of a thank-you. Before he could utter anything, however, Minho’s voice lowered and he added,

“However, if I ever get wind of you hurting him or using what happened against him … you better pray I never see your face or hear your name ever again, or I will make you wish you’d never been born. Understood?”

At that moment, Chan was torn between leaping for joy and crying tears of submission.

“Yes, understood, Minho-ssi. I appreciate how much you care for him, and I’m sure Seungminnie does as well,” he murmured, respectfully, and looked up to see the boy smiling kindly as if he didn’t just threaten his hyung.

“Good. Well, in that case,” Minho turned the stove burner off and served two bowls of fried rice before grabbing them both and heading off in the vague direction of the living room, softly calling as he went, “Jisung-ah and I are heading to his place for the night later, so if you decide to come back here, you’ll have the place to yourselves. You’re welcome! Have a great time, Chan-hyung!”

And Chan was left alone in the kitchen, a startled smile on his face, for exactly three minutes, before Seungmin came down the stairs. His hair was still a little damp and his cheeks a rosy red. He grinned shyly at Chan as he stopped at the last step.

Chan got up and walked over quietly, unable to take his eyes off Seungmin, searching him and his body for … something. He didn’t know. But he knew it lay within this incredible creature that stood before him, and he was going to find it.

Seungmin was wearing a pair of light blue, patched jeans, with a slightly fitted white button-up tucked in. A single, white pearl earring hung from one of his ears and his hair was just long enough to reach his shoulders, styled carefully away from his face. Around his neck was a simple, thin necklace that disappeared into his shirt when he moved.

Sighing in adoration, Chan hesitantly opened his arms … and huffed a laugh when Seungmin shuffled over and hid within them. Seungmin giggled quietly before melting further into Chan’s chest, inhaling deeply and settling into the embrace, the two sharing breath and heartbeats for a moment.

“Hi, baby,” Chan breathed.

Seungmin responded by sliding his hand into Chan’s back pocket and squeezing playfully. Chan cackled and they raced each other out the door toward the parking lot.