Chapter Text
The air of Seokjin’s office feels warmer than usual. Yoongi thinks it might be from the nip of the cold outside that has turned his nose pink, but as he unwraps the scarf from his shoulders, the temperature doesn’t even out. He sees Seokjin enter the office from the backroom and smiles.
“Hello, hyu-mph,” Yoongi is cut off from his greeting by Seokjin, as his head is tipped back and his lips covered in a barrage of kisses. The first few Yoongi doesn’t have time to react to, but by the fifth his instinct draws him to open his mouth for Seokjin to invade with his tongue. His hands come to rest against Seokjin’s chest, feeling the warm muscle, and underneath that muscle, the heavy heartbeat thudding beneath his fingertips.
Seokjin tugs the coat off of Yoongi. He swipes his tongue against Yoongi’s lower lip before peppering kisses down his jawline and his throat. They slow down before stopping at his pulse point, where Seokjin carefully licks the area wet before blowing cool air on it.
The hairs in Yoongi’s neck stand up at the sensation.
“Yoongi-yah.”
Yoongi swallows, hands clenching into the fabric of Seokjin’s shirt. “Yes, hyung?”
“Are you going to be a good boy for me today too, sugar?”
Yoongi’s breath hitches. He nods.
“Yeah?” Seokjin says, pulling back with a grin. “You gonna be good for me even if I hurt you a little?”
A part of Yoongi wants to burst into laughter. If Seokjin presented him with a whip, he wouldn’t hesitate to grab it and bring down onto his own skin at Seokjin’s word. The man held such power over Yoongi, that sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder if he was all there these days. Did Seokjin even need to ask? Surely he knew there was little Yoongi wasn’t willing to do for him in exchange for praise. Anyone would be able to see it in the tilt of Yoongi’s head whenever Seokjin spoke, in the flush that rose on his skin whenever Seokjin looked at him for a moment longer, in the chase his body gave whenever Seokjin’s hands caressed him. There should be no doubt about it in Seokjin’s mind.
The rest of Yoongi, however, is so eager to reassure Seokjin. He paws Seokjin’s chest as he whines. “I’ll be good for hyungie, I promise.”
Seokjin presses a soft kiss on Yoongi’s lips. “C’mon.”
Seokjin’s office desk has been cleared from his things, leaving the wooden surface barren. Seokjin guides Yoongi to sit on it, tugging Yoongi’s shirt over his head impatiently.
“Maybe we should hurry up a little,” Yoongi says. “Seeing how it’s been 30 seconds and I still have my jeans on.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, and Yoongi laughs.
“You were so cute when you were all polite before.”
Yoongi feels the pout form on his face before he even realises to stop it. Seokjin’s brows furrow immediately, and he leans in to squish Yoongi’s cheeks and pepper kisses on the protruding lips.
“You’re the cutest thing ever, darling,” Seokjin assures him, and Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut because this is embarrassing, and Seokjin is making him feel so mushy. Sensing Yoongi wants to move on, Seokjin releases his face with one final kiss and begins to unbutton Yoongi’s trousers. Yoongi wiggles his way out of them with Seokjin’s help.
“Oh.” Seokjin stops to stare. “These are new.”
“Mm.” Yoongi bites his lip as he touches the edge of his cotton panties. “I thought they looked pretty.”
Seokjin thumbs the outline of Yoongi’s chubbing cock. The tip is already weeping and staining the fabric. Seokjin licks his lips.
“They look very pretty on you, baby.” His hand squeezes the bottom of Yoongi’s cock, which spurts more precome, staining the panties further.
“Ah!” Yoongi’s thighs squeeze together, and he writhes on top of the desk. “Hyung.”
Seokjin grabs Yoongi’s ankles and uses them to align Yoongi to lie down on his back across the length of the desk. There’s no real reason for it, but Seokjin still asks him:
“Can you stay still like this, pumpkin?”
“Yes.”
Seokjin hums happily, as he steps away from the desk with a lingering stare at Yoongi laid out before him, before he disappears to the next room.
Yoongi can hear him open something that sounds like a fridge, and return quite quickly with a small bucket in one hand and a small toolkit in the other. Seeing them makes him a bit nervous, and his nervousness breaks through in the form of a bad joke:
“Ah, already breaking out the torture tools, hyung?”
Seokjin laughs, and shakes his head.
“Not quite, unfortunately. I’m saving that for later.” Seokjin sets the bucket down on the table next to Yoongi’s hip. Out of the toolkit he procures a few sturdy candles and coasters.
Yoongi watches Seokjin set up a place for them on a side-table before he lights the candles.
“They need a few minutes to warm up, but I think we can get started in the meanwhile,” Seokjin says, trailing a warm hand over Yoongi’s stomach. “What do you think?”
“Ah,” Yoongi breathes out as he feels Seokjin’s fingers ghost over his nipple. “Yes, sir.”
“Tell me if you get too cold,” Seokjin instructs him. “I upped the heating, but…”
“I will, sir.”
“It’s been a while since you called me ‘sir’,” Seokjin mumbles with a grin and leans over to kiss Yoongi on the lips. He slides his tongue into Yoongi’s eagerly open mouth before backing up again.
Yoongi whines.
Seokjin ignores the sound and trails wet kisses down Yoongi’s throat to his chest. He stops right above his loudly beating heart, to ask:
“Is it difficult to keep your hands still?”
Yoongi’s hand that had grasped onto Seokjin’s sleeve lets go.
“Sorry, sir.”
Seokjin hums, and straightens his back. He tugs on his tie until it comes loose and slides off from around his neck.
“Would it be easier if you had something to hold on to? Or maybe I should just tie your hands together right now?”
Seokjin watches as Yoongi unintentionally bucks his hips when he looks at the tie in Seokjin’s hand. His lips twitch into a small grin, and he takes the liberty to grab Yoongi’s wrists and pull them up above Yoongi’s head. He wraps the tie around Yoongi’s wrists, secure but not too tight, and echoes in his mind the breathy ‘fuck’ he hears Yoongi gasp out.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Seokjin asks Yoongi.
“Mmhmm, yes, sir,” Yoongi unabashedly moans, tugging on the restraint as his thighs rub together. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’ll be thanking me plenty,” Seokjin teases him, before he slaps Yoongi’s thigh. “Now get your legs apart.”
Yoongi resists for a moment, struggling against the need to squeeze his legs together for the faintest of stimulation. Seokjin forces his knees straight and apart and judges that Yoongi has earned himself another slap, a stronger one, this time on his inner thigh.
“Stay,” Seokjin warns him.
Yoongi nods, muttering an apology. He bites his lip as he feels the slaps echo on his skin in fading throbs. Fuck, it had felt good. Seokjin has been very moderate in dealing out punishments and physical pain in general, despite Yoongi not being averse to it. The small tastes he had been given haunted him afterwards, and now when he finally got another taste, it broke through the fuzz with greater impact than he anticipated.
Ignorant to Yoongi’s inner musings, Seokjin sticks a hand into the bucket and pulls out a bright orange popsicle. It’s melted just the slightest bit, a tiny drop of juice beginning to drip down its length.
“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” Seokjin says. He slides the popsicle in between Yoongi’s lips, twirling it around, coating Yoongi’s tongue in the orange flavour. “Be careful not to bite.”
Yoongi hums.
Seokjin pulls the popsicle back until the tip rests on Yoongi’s lips. The ice is melting more rapidly from the heat of Yoongi’s mouth, and a pink tongue follows out to lick at the juice dripping down onto pink lips. He lifts the popsicle, tapping Yoongi on his lower lip and slides it back in when Yoongi’s mouth opens again. He moves it – fucks it, really – back and forth in Yoongi’s mouth. His eyes are transfixed on the mess of pink and orange, the juice dripping down from the corner of Yoongi’s mouth down his neck and onto the table. He slides the popsicle back in one more time and lets go of the popsicle stick.
Yoongi makes a choking sound.
Seokjin blinks, hand hovering above Yoongi’s face, but Yoongi purses his lips tighter around the popsicle. His breathing is stuttering as he stares at Seokjin with slightly glassy eyes.
“Oh, are you already this far gone?” Seokjin whispers, his thumb stroking the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, spreading the sticky liquid onto Yoongi’s cheek. He leans down and kisses the sugary trail on the other side of Yoongi’s face. “Ah, you’re so cute I could eat you up.”
He licks a fat stripe from Yoongi’s jaw to his mouth, taking the juice with him, before another drop wells up and spills down. He listens to Yoongi groan from the cold burn of the popsicle in his mouth, and in a small act of mercy he pulls it out again, this time completely.
Yoongi swallows and sighs in relief, licking his lips but only manages to spreads the sugar around. His pink lips are turning red, and the orange colour sticks to his tongue. He swallows again, staring at Seokjin.
The popsicle in Seokjin’s hand drips juice onto Yoongi’s chest. Seokjin spreads the puddle with his forefinger before bringing his finger to his mouth. He hums as he sucks off the sugar, eyes dark and honed in on Yoongi. He’s thinking.
Yoongi feels his mouth fill with orange-flavoured saliva. He stares intently at the finger wrapped by Seokjin’s plush lips and swallows. He doesn’t even know what he wants, he just knows that he wants something.
The popsicle in Seokjin’s hand continues to drip onto Yoongi’s chest. Seokjin lowers it, poking the tip into the puddle before slowly swirling it in a lazy, clockwise spiral.
Yoongi’s chest is flushed a light pink, and he hisses when he feels the popsicle move closer towards his sternum. The puddle of liquid is lukewarm on his skin, first heated up by his body temperature, but now colder again with the popsicle having made contact with it. As Seokjin’s spiral gets bigger and closer to Yoongi’s nipple, he feels the liquid drip down his ribs.
Right as the half-melted popsicle is about to make contact with the pink and hard nipple, Seokjin slows down even more. Then, with agonising slowness, he tightly circles Yoongi’s pectoral, watching the skin break out in goosebumps.
“Mmh.”
Seokjin pays little mind to Yoongi’s noises, lifting the popsicle up from Yoongi’s skin, having completed the circle around it. A large drop of juice builds on the tip, and Seokjin stares without blinking as it builds and builds and builds –
The heavy drop breaks off and splashes against Yoongi’s nipple.
Yoongi groans.
Seokjin snorts.
“You’d think based on the sounds you make you were a virgin getting world-class head, what with you moaning and whining like a pathetic little slut,” Seokjin’s mouth lets out before his thoughts even register. Yoongi has fallen silent, and Seokjin peeks at his face carefully.
Yoongi’s mouth is open, his dark eyes wide as he stares at Seokjin. His ears and cheeks are as red as his lips.
“Ah… Sir, I-“ Yoongi’s words cut off due to a gasp, as another cold drop splashes against his nipple. “Ah! Sir, I’m gonna-!“
“Hm? Oh. Oh! Really?” Seokjin squeaks in disbelief and pulls the popsicle away. On its way, it drips a bit more onto Yoongi’s chest. Seokjin watches Yoongi breathe harshly with a wobbling lower lip and turns to look at Yoongi’s lower half. His thighs are shaking from the effort of trying not to move, and his panties are soaked from precome. Seokjin watches Yoongi’s straining cock twitch along with each clench of his abdomen.
“Mmh. Mmh…” Yoongi’s groans are muffled as he presses his lips tightly together. He has closed his eyes tightly to focus on not cumming.
‘I can’t cum yet. I can’t cum yet. I wasn’t given permission, so I can’t cum. Fuck, don’t cum. Don’t cum!’
Seokjin quietly watches the marvel of Yoongi forcing himself back down from the edge of cumming, all on his own. He drops the half-melted popsicle into the bucket to focus on Yoongi. He listens to the whimpering that pushes through the clenched teeth and licks his lips. They still taste the slightest bit of orange.
Eventually Yoongi’s efforts pay off, as his breathing evens out. He cracks his eyes open with a shuddering breath, and sees Seokjin who is looking at him with a smirk and half-lidded eyes.
“Ah, you really are something, huh, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin murmurs.
Yoongi feels his lips twitch into a small, similar smirk of his own in response. He answers:
“You didn’t give me permission to cum yet, sir.”
Seokjin lets out a chuckle.
“Look at you being so cocky,” Seokjin says. “Like you didn’t just almost come untouched from being called a slut.”
“Mm,” Yoongi breathes deep. “I believe it was, ah, ‘pathetic, little slut’, sir.”
“Indeed… Cocky and talkative,” Seokjin comments, glancing behind himself at the candles. “Ready to continue?”
Yoongi breathes for a few more moments before answering:
“Yes, sir.”
“Wonderful,” Seokjin says with a smile. “And if I degrade you… Are you able to keep yourself from cumming?”
“I, I’ll try, sir,” Yoongi answers, voice wavering.
“You don’t sound too sure of yourself, sweetheart,” Seokjin says and grabs a candle. Melted wax is pooling in the middle around the wick, but prevented from dripping by the solid edges. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?”
Yoongi huffs, abdomen clenching.
“I wanna be a good boy,” he replies with a quiet voice. It’s laced with embarrassment and desperation. “I’m a good boy.”
Seokjin moves the candle, hovering it over Yoongi’s thigh, right where he had slapped him the first time. He hums as he lowers it, watching the melted wax flow towards the edge as he tilts the candle.
“We’ll see about that, pumpkin,” Seokjin says. “Now, do not move.”
Yoongi stops breathing and stares at the ceiling in anticipation.
As the wax hits skin, there is a dull splattering sound. Not even a second later, the heat registers in Yoongi’s brain, and he weakly cries out, more from surprise than pain. It stops quickly, leaving a smarting spot on his skin that continues to be warmed by the solidifying candlewax.
“How does it feel?”
Yoongi tries to think of something smart to say but all he can come up with is a confused:
“Hot?”
There’s a pause.
“Good,” Yoongi continues with a mumble. It’s hot, but the pain is tingly, pleasant.
Seokjin giggles, eyes scrunching up and he accidentally drips more wax onto Yoongi’s thigh, right above his knee. He quickly straightens out the candle, while Yoongi lets out a hiss and a shuddering breath.
“It feels good, sir,” Yoongi says quietly.
“What should you say if I make you feel good, pet?” Seokjin asks, setting the candle back down on its coaster to build up more liquid wax. He turns back to Yoongi, leaning down to pet his hair and kiss his cheek. “What do we say when we get what we want, hm?”
“Thank you, sir.”
Seokjin pets Yoongi’s hair a bit more, staring at him from the side. He watches as Yoongi shifts his hips slightly and purses his lips.
“Thank you for hurting me, sir.”
“My pleasure, pumpkin.” Seokjin kisses Yoongi’s cheek again, and straightens his back again. He grabs another popsicle, this time dark pink and raspberry flavoured. It’s slightly more melted than the orange one was initially, but not dripping.
Seokjin slowly walks around the table, trailing the popsicle from Yoongi’s hip to his ribs, up to his sternum, over his shoulder and along his bicep and forearm to his tied wrists. He stops just shy of the tie, before lifting the popsicle up again, switching to Yoongi’s other arm. He follows the same route in reverse, dragging a juice trail down Yoongi’s inner forearm to his elbow and across his bicep, stopping just before his shoulder to disrupt the juice trail with a kitten lick on Yoongi’s skin. He keeps the popsicle pressed against Yoongi’s arm, twirling it in place for a few second, building up juice until it stickily drips down, and moves on again. He lies the popsicle flat horizontally along Yoongi’s sternum, creating a light sawing motion as he moves it down Yoongi’s chest to rest on top of Yoongi’s navel.
Seokjin removes his hand, leaving the popsicle to melt on Yoongi’s stomach, while he grabs the third popsicle of the day, a green apple-flavoured one, from the bucket. He trails its tip around the pink one, spreading the sweet sugar liquid until it drips down Yoongi’s sides.
He hears Yoongi breathing harder the longer the dark pink popsicle rests on his skin, but doesn’t make moves to remove it. Instead, he dots the skin of Yoongi’s panty-line with murky dots of pink-green popsicle juice. The pre-cum stain on the front is glistening and covering almost the entire front half at this point. Seokjin does a quick swirl around the raspberry-flavoured juice puddle with the green popsicle and lifts it up, hovering it over the wettest spot of Yoongi’s panties. He waits with his mouth open, bating his breath until a fat drop slides down from the very bottom of the popsicle to its tip, splashing against Yoongi’s soaking panty-covered cock-tip with absolute precision.
Yoongi gasps hard enough to cause the raspberry popsicle to start to slide off his stomach in its puddle. Seokjin stops it, fingers curling around the popsicle itself and pressing it against Yoongi’s stomach. The juice drips down loud enough to be heard clearly.
“What did I say about not moving?” Seokjin snaps, brows drawn together and lips turned into a frown. He presses the green popsicle down harshly against the length of Yoongi’s cock in quick punishment.
Yoongi yelps, and lets out a long whine. His bound wrists press against the top of his head.
Seokjin ignores him. With his other hand he rubs the raspberry popsicle against the expanse of Yoongi’s stomach, forcing even more juice to drip off his skin, before leaving it back in its original place on top of Yoongi’s navel. He waits a few more seconds, watching like a hawk if Yoongi’s shaking breaths will knock the popsicle off again, before he lifts the apple-flavoured popsicle from Yoongi’s cock.
Yoongi cries out in relief, the pain slowly beginning to subside, though the wetness of his panties holds on to the cold, prolonging his discomfort.
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologises with a weak voice. “I didn’t mean to move-“
“But you did, Yoongi,” Seokjin says, Yoongi’s name like a whip. Seokjin doesn’t call him ‘Yoongi’, he calls him pet names, or maybe ‘Yoongi-yah’, or a degrading name for kicks, but not… just ‘Yoongi’.
A small cry builds up in Yoongi’s throat, and his eyes burn.
“I told you not to move, and you did. You disobeyed me. Again,” Seokjin’s tone turns from harsh to just disappointed. “Good boys don’t disobey, now do they?”
“No, sir,” Yoongi whispers and swallows. He flinches when he feels the green popsicle in Seokjin’s hand drip cold juice on his thigh. The popsicle on his stomach slides around a bit, but he sucks in his stomach and manages to keep it in place.
“You said you were a good boy,” Seokjin continues. “But you keep disobeying me. What does that mean, Yoongi?”
Yoongi swallows back his tears. His eyes are glassy as they stare at the ceiling.
“I’m not a good boy.”
“Mm. You lied to me, Yoongi,” Seokjin concludes. “You lied to me about what you are. You should know better than to lie.”
Yoongi’s breath shudders as he nods to Seokjin’s words.
“You are not a good boy. You are a disobedient and lying–,” Seokjin pauses with a sigh that borders on reverent, “– whore. A desperate little whore who needs to be punished.”
“Yes,” Yoongi sobs, a tear escaping from the corner of his eye. “Please, sir. I’m sorry for being a whore, I’m sorry for disobeying, I–“
Yoongi’s breath stutters as he sobs again.
“I’m sorry for lying, sir. I’m not a good boy, I lied, I’m sorry.”
Seokjin has his head tilted back as he stands there with his eyes closed, the green popsicle forgotten on the desk. He listens to Yoongi’s warbling words, to his apologies desperately falling off his tongue. He’s so hard. It’s so hard to just stand there listening to Yoongi and not just slap him across his face and climb on top of him, shove his tongue inside Yoongi’s mouth while listening to Yoongi try to gasp for breath when he’s stuffy from the tears, make it even harder for him to breathe with his hands around Yoongi’s ne–
Seokjin bites his inner cheek. He raises his hand to brush his hair back, but realises just a few seconds away that his hands are absolutely covered in popsicle juice. He hums, first looking at his hand, then looking at Yoongi who is sniffling.
“You got me all messy,” he thinks out loud. His words cause Yoongi’s sniffling to pause before triggering another wave of sobs and apologies. Instead of acknowledging them, he allows Yoongi to just let it out. He looks at the sticky mess covering Yoongi’s body with half-lidded eyes. He spots the green popsicle on the desk, grabs it and throws it in the bucket, followed by the nearly fully melted raspberry popsicle from Yoongi’s stomach.
Yoongi’s red-rimmed eyes follow him move, his lower lip still wobbling. Seokjin places his hand in the middle of the puddle over Yoongi’s stomach, his warm palm pressing against the cold skin. He drags his hand firmly up towards Yoongi’s chest, covering him in pink, sticky, lukewarm goo. Once done, he moves his hand back, pushing the rest of the juice against Yoongi’s panties, causing the cotton to suck it all in and stain a light, uneven pink. His hand drags over Yoongi’s covered cock, now only half-hard from not having been played with and Yoongi’s emotional turmoil. The slide over the thin fabric is sticky, but Seokjin works diligently.
“Uh, uh,” Yoongi moans. His cock twitches, getting harder under Seokjin’s gentle and persistent touch. “S-ah, sir?”
Seokjin can hear him, but he’s not listening. Instead, his fingers rub against Yoongi’s tip, gently squeezing his shaft before sliding down to press against his balls. The motion repeats, and Seokjin’s eyes travel towards Yoongi’s thigh, the one with drops of green sugar. He lowers his head, his other hand holding onto the desk for support, and opens his mouth.
Yoongi first feels the hot breath against his thigh, feels it the strongest against the wet parts of his skin. Next, the feels the wet tongue, and it feels like it’s burning. After all the cold, and the hot wax a distant memory, Seokjin’s tongue feels like it’s scalding his skin.
“Unh…”
Seokjin’s tongue drags over the skin slowly, so deliberately, tasting not just the sugar but Yoongi himself. Again, he flattens his tongue against the skin of Yoongi’s thigh and drags it up slowly. The shimmering saliva left behind feels cool on Yoongi’s skin, and they both hum in hazy pleasure.
Seokjin grins and blows air gently over the spot.
Yoongi is back to staring at the ceiling, gasping for breath. He’s so confused, but Seokjin doesn’t give him space to think.
Seokjin’s lips press open-mouthed kisses onto his thigh. He gently sucks in some of the flesh, scraping the sticky juice off his skin with his tongue and teeth. The hand on Yoongi’s cock slows down, instead cupping it firmly.
Seokjin shifts, his hand that was holding onto the desk slides under Yoongi’s thigh instead, pulling it toward Seokjin. It makes Yoongi’s knee bend and reveals the junction of Yoongi’s inner thigh and his panty-covered crotch. The hand holding Yoongi’s thigh grips the flesh hard, fingers pressing in with the intent to bruise.
“Ah…”
Yoongi is done trying to figure out Seokjin’s intentions and lets his mind be empty.
Seokjin sees slightest movement under Yoongi’s skin, right at the junction of his thigh and the pantyline, and leans in. He pays no attention to the pre-cum and popsicle juice mess that covers Yoongi’s panties as it brushes against his cheek. He firmly pushes away Yoongi’s cupped cock and sac with one hand, while the other pulls Yoongi’s thigh even further towards Seokjin’s chest. He presses a kiss on the pale skin, feeling the thumping of the artery against his lips.
Yoongi’s cock twitches underneath his palm.
He lifts his face, lips slightly sticking to Yoongi’s skin with sugar. It is only a few centimetres higher that Seokjin decides is the perfect place. His mouth fills with saliva. He doesn’t kiss the skin or lick it.
On the fattiest part of Yoongi’s inner thigh, Seokjin buries his teeth until Yoongi screams.
He hums when he feels his teeth slightly pierce through the delicate skin, bloody iron and sweet apple coating the tip of his tongue. His saliva coats the flesh in his mouth. Gently, he loosens his jaw, letting his lips pop off with a disconnecting string of saliva, and Yoongi’s new mark becomes visible. A tiny bead of blood builds where Seokjin’s pierced the skin, but it mixes in with the saliva before long.
Seokjin admires the result, feeling the building rumble inside him abate the slightest bit. When he turns to look at Yoongi’s face, he smiles gently.
Yoongi stares at Seokjin like he’s seen god.
“That,” Seokjin says, “Is for disobeying me.”
Yoongi’s open mouth lets out no sound, but Seokjin doesn’t mind.
“What comes next… Is for lying to me.” Seokjin stares into Yoongi’s glassy eyes. He wants, he wants so bad, but now is not the time. He still has punishments to dole out. Yoongi still needs to be punished further for acting out.
Yoongi’s leg thumps down on the table as Seokjin releases it. It seems to shake Yoongi awake enough to reply with a hoarse voice:
“Yes… Thank you, sir.”
Seokjin’s exhale shudders, but Yoongi doesn’t notice. He focuses on trying to feel his limbs enough to be of aid Seokjin, as he’s sat up and turned around on his knees and forearms on the table. His hips are raised high, while his elbows are spread far, lowering his shoulders and arching his back. He feels Seokjin’s hand caress his ass, playing with the hem of his panties.
Seokjin doesn’t want to take them off, but he needs to. With a pout, he grabs them with both hands and pulls them down to Yoongi’s knees. He lifts Yoongi’s legs, one at a time, until the panties are free. Carefully, he folds them and puts them in the pocket of his slacks.
A few drops of precum have started to form a puddle on the table between Yoongi’s knees. With his forehead resting on the table between his arms, Yoongi can see his cock leaking more as it hangs heavy between his legs. He can also see Seokjin move towards the side-table, while his hand lays on Yoongi’s ass cheek.
Seokjin rubs his thumb against Yoongi’s skin and grabs a candle. It’s gathered quite a bit of melted wax by now, and he swishes it around. He leisurely scratches his nail in a long line down Yoongi’s ass cheek and his thigh down to behind his knee.
Yoongi shudders and spreads his knees further.
“There we go,” Seokjin praises him, scratching a long line back up the thigh. He stops short of Yoongi’s ass, opting to place a firm hand on his hip instead. He hovers the candle over Yoongi’s body. “I can only hope that you learn your lesson from this, Yoongi-ah.”
Yoongi gasps and shudders as he hears Seokjin. New tears burn his eyes, the relief immense. He wants to nod fervently, but doesn’t move.
“You will never disobey me again. You will never lie to me again.”
‘Yes, yes! I’ll never disobey or lie!’ Yoongi repeats in his mind.
“You may be a whore–“
Yoongi whines, and Seokjin ignores him.
“–but this does not mean you have to be a disobedient and lying whore.”
Yoongi hears himself gasping for breath.
“You can be an obedient and truthful whore,” Seokjin reveals to him, voice no louder than normal, but it’s the only thing Yoongi can hear. “My little whore.”
Yoongi closes his eyes. His mouth is lax, his breathing deep, his back bent so low it aches. He waits.
“Are you my little whore?” Seokjin asks him sweetly.
Yoongi opens his eyes and with a rough voice, answers:
“I am your little whore, sir.”
Seokjin doesn’t answer him. Instead, he drips all of the hot wax the candle has to offer over Yoongi’s lower back, and it slides down towards his shoulder blades before stopping as it solidifies.
Yoongi grunts in pain. It feels like a brand on his skin, but one Yoongi is glad – no, ecstatic to have.
“You are my little whore,” Seokjin confirms. “Slutty and desperate little whore.”
Yoongi hums brightly with a smile on his lips, agreeing happily with Seokjin’s words. He is slutty, and he is so, so desperate. He doesn’t even realise he is swaying his body to press into Seokjin’s hand which is still laid on his hip.
Seokjin’s shoulders shake in silent laughter as he places the candle down and leans down towards Yoongi’s ass. Yoongi’s skin break out into goosebumps under his breath and he grins. Then he bites Yoongi’s ass cheek.
He feels Yoongi tense. He’s not biting as deep as Yoongi’s thigh, just a small bite to mark Yoongi as his. He releases the skin and licks the mark gently. As he stares at the red indents of teeth marks his breath shudders.
Seokjin shakes his head quickly and bends further to look at Yoongi’s face from between his legs. Yoongi is staring right back at him with a dark and vacant stare, breathing heavily. Seokjin’s eyes are drawn to the bite mark on his thigh first, then to the slightly cracked wax on the other thigh. Looking at it, Seokjin comments:
“It kind of looks like cum.”
Yoongi sways in place, pushing his ass further back for Seokjin.
Seokjin looks back at Yoongi’s face, but Yoongi’s stare is still vacant.
“Do you like that? Does that make your cock hard, hm? You want to be covered in cum, little whore?” Seokjin asks sweetly, words dripping out like honey.
“Nh,” Yoongi moans, blinking softly.
Seokjin stares at him for a few more seconds and shifts back for another candle. He peeks at Yoongi before he drops more wax, this time on Yoongi’s ass cheek.
“Mmh,” Yoongi moans louder, cock swaying with the slight rocking of his body. “Mm!”
Seokjin steadies him with the hand on his hip. The candle runs out of wax quickly, before he even has covered one of Yoongi’s cheeks.
“Cum all over your slutty ass,” Seokjin sighs, switching to another candle, splashing more wax with abandon over Yoongi’s other ass cheek. He stops to the stare at Yoongi’s bottom, the skin starting to turn pink from the heat of candlewax. He watches as Yoongi pushes his ass back again, cheeks spreading until the cum-like wax cracks a bit.
Seokjin hums and licks his lips. He knows what Yoongi wants, what he needs.
“Cum in your little whore-hole.”
Yoongi screams in pain, body tense, as Seokjin pours the last remains of candlewax over the rim of Yoongi’s hole. It hurts worse than anything they’ve done before, even Seokjin’s bite doesn’t hold a candle to the sharp jolts of fire coursing through Yoongi’s body.
“Ungh… Mh…” Yoongi grunts, trying to get oxygen back into his lungs.
Seokjin rubs Yoongi’s hip with his hand, watching the wax solidify and crack more on Yoongi’s skin as he moves. Slowly, Yoongi calms down, and Seokjin moves his hand to wrap it around Yoongi’s cock, gently guiding it backwards.
“Tell me, darling,” Seokjin says, voice lilting sweetly and filling Yoongi’s head. “Do you want cum on your naughty little cock too?”
Yoongi’s bucking movement screeches to a halt. His breathing becomes heavy, and his eyes jump around the small space between his legs. He cannot see Seokjin’s face anymore, but he doesn’t move his head to look back at him either.
‘No, no, I don’t want- please, no, oh god, please, don’t- don’t please, sir, please, please, no, sir-‘
“Answer me, Yoongi,” Seokjin demands, squeezing the length in his hand. “Do you want cum covering your naughty little whore-cock too?”
Yoongi bites his lip, pressing his eyes shut.
“Yes, sir. I… I want cum covering my naughty little whore-cock too.”
He wants to cry. He might be crying.
A sob does break through as Seokjin firmly strokes his cock with his hand.
“Ah, there we go. Good job, sweetpea,” Seokjin praises him, voice sticky and sugary. “Finally you’re telling me the truth. Oh, you’ve done so well.”
Yoongi hears a light thud, and it takes him a long moment to realise Seokjin’s put the candle down. Seokjin’s hands are running across his body, caressing and petting. Seokjin is soothing Yoongi’s trembling, Yoongi realises. His body is trembling.
Seokjin pulls him up to just his knees by wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s chest. It’s sticky, as the sugary goop glues Seokjin’s shirt and Yoongi’s skin together, but Seokjin holds Yoongi tighter, pressing open mouthed kisses all over his neck and shoulder.
Yoongi tastes like raspberries and oranges.
Yoongi’s still tied hands grasp onto Seokjin, holding on for dear life. He’s sobbing as he clings to Seokjin’s wrist and sleeve, pressing his back into Seokjin’s chest. He ass presses against Seokjin’s crotch, and he can feel Seokjin’s erection rubbing between his cheeks.
Seokjin finishes sucking another hickey on Yoongi’s skin and lifts him up until he can straighten his legs and stand. However, he doesn’t let go, which is for the better as Yoongi is very much jelly-legged from the whole ordeal. Instead, Seokjin tugs off the tie binding Yoongi’s wrists and manoeuvres Yoongi onto the floor on his back.
Yoongi stares at him wide-eyed, hands grasping at the front of Seokjin's shirt. He’s still shaking and sniffling, but the sight of Seokjin – flushed, breathing heavy, and twitching – on top of him is distracting to say the least.
Seokjin doesn’t say anything as he drops his ass on top of Yoongi’s cock, and both of them moan as they stare at each other. Seokjin grins and grinds his hips, causing Yoongi to buck.
“Mine,” Seokjin says without realising.
“Haa…” Yoongi breathes and bites his lips at the next roll of Seokjin’s hips.
Seokjin’s eyes trail down Yoongi’s body, before he hums and looks to the side at the bucket still sitting on his desk. He grunts as he reaches for it, nearly dropping its contents on the floor. Not that he gives a fuck, as long as he can get one popsicle in his hand. He reaches for a candle next from the side-table right above Yoongi’s head. He drops his ass back down on Yoongi’s cock, subconsciously grinding on it a little. The bucket on the floor, he finds a half-melted, pale green, melon-flavoured popsicle.
Yoongi stares at the sight above with his mouth open and gasping. Seokjin’s head is surrounded by a halo as he stares down at Yoongi with a popsicle and a candle in hand. Yoongi’s hands shake as they grasp at Seokjin’s thighs. He feels how they flex with each roll of Seokjin’s hips.
A drop of wax hits Yoongi’s arm when Seokjin moves, and Yoongi flinches.
“Ah!”
Seokjin stares at Yoongi’s chest as he lowers the candle to pour wax over it. He makes a slow circle around Yoongi’s nipple, finishing it with a press of the popsicle in the middle. His hips continue their rocking, as if he’s gently riding Yoongi’s cock.
“Haa… Ah-! Haa..”
Yoongi’s breath stutters. Seokjin still hasn’t lifted the popsicle. The burn of the wax is completely overpowered by the burning ice. His cock roughly rubs against the fabric of Seokjin’s slacks, and he can't buck his hips anymore, even if he wanted to. It’s like he’s lost all control of and all the sensation in his legs.
After what feels like hours, but is probably just a minute or two, Seokjin lifts the popsicle. Yoongi’s nipple is a violent red-pink colour, only highlighted by the wax ring surrounding it. Yoongi breathes deeply, relieved.
Seokjin’s grip on the candle tightens, and he flips it over. All the wax it has built up in those two minutes splashes against the irritated nub, covering it completely.
Yoongi keens, and Seokjin groans as he clenches his buttocks and grinds down harder.
“Ah, ah, mm,” Seokjin moans, the lower parts of the palms of his hands pressing down on Yoongi’s ribs. The popsicle slips a little and starts pressing against Yoongi’s skin, and the candle tilts precariously. It keeps burning, dripping fresh wax one drop at a time on Yoongi’s skin. Seokjin’s head bends down, and his eyes close.
“Belong to me…” Seokjin mutters. “My whore…”
Yoongi huffs, eyes wide. The wax burns. The ice burns. The grind of Seokjin’s slacks burns.
“Agh…” It hurts.
Seokjin’s eyes open, and his unfocused gaze finds its way to Yoongi’s eyes.
“I…” Seokjin’s hips lose their rhythm. “I own you…”
Seokjin throws his head back with a long, stuttering gasp, followed by a moaning exhale. His cum coats his underwear, rubbing against his cock as he keeps grinding to completion. He feels his hands tremble, and with the last speck of willpower, transfers all his grip strength onto the candle, letting go of the popsicle.
“Mmh…” Seokjin’s fingers, now free of the popsicle stick, splay against Yoongi’s chest to support him as he comes down from his orgasm. His other hand trembles as he lifts the candle, quickly blowing out the flame. He loosely shakes the last dregs of wax onto Yoongi’s body – causing Yoongi to whine – before dropping the candle down beside them.
Ah, he feels tired.
With a hum, his posture slouches, and he bends down until he’s nearly chest to chest with Yoongi. He stares Yoongi in the eye, pecking him on parted lips once, twice. Then, he rests his forehead on Yoongi’s.
Yoongi stares Seokjin back, waiting.
“What do you think?” Seokjin asks. “Should I let you cum?”
A part of Yoongi wants to argue yes. It’s a smaller part, though. The larger part of him is resigned.
“Sir should decide,” Yoongi says, leaving it up to Seokjin.
Seokjin hums, eyes searching something in Yoongi’s gaze. Yoongi doesn't know if he finds it, whatever it is he is looking for.
Seokjin lifts his head, and presses another kiss onto Yoongi’s lips. It lingers, and upon parting, he licks Yoongi’s lower lip.
Yoongi obediently opens his mouth. He blinks slowly as he feels Seokjin’s tongue slide in between his lips and sighs softly. He reaches out his tongue, touching Seokjin’s tongue and tasting him. His eyelids flutter as they close.
Seokjin’s body presses against Yoongi when he lifts a hand to cup Yoongi’s cheek. He sucks on Yoongi’s lower lip, tonguing off the orange-y sugar. He kisses Yoongi, softly but for a long time. As they part, he feels Yoongi’s breath fan his face as he gasps for air. Seokjin pets Yoongi’s cheek with his thumb and shifts it to rest on Yoongi’s chin, pressing it down just the slightest bit.
Yoongi obediently parts his lips, and Seokjin pushes his tongue back inside.
“Ngah.” Yoongi opens his mouth wider, and Seokjin hums, his voice vibrating against Yoongi’s chest and lips. Yoongi doesn’t move, even keeping his tongue flat in his mouth as Seokjin rubs his tongue against it.
It doesn’t feel like kissing.
It feels like Seokjin is fucking Yoongi’s mouth with his tongue.
With Seokjin on top of him, Yoongi’s mouth quickly fills with saliva. He makes a noise, but as Seokjin doesn’t stop, he makes a decision with a stuttering breath. His lips move closer, wrapping around Seokjin’s tongue, as he slurps up the saliva clinging to Seokjin’s tongue and swallows. As soon as he is done, he relaxes his mouth again.
Seokjin drags his tongue against Yoongi’s tongue a few more times, before he pulls back. He looks at Yoongi, looks at his bright pink, glistening mouth, and grins.
“I think my obedient little whore has earned himself the right to cum,” Seokjin says quietly. “Taking his punishments so well. Making me cum. Letting me play with his pretty mouth.”
Yoongi’s panting mouth curls into a bashful smile.
“Ah, such a cute, slutty boy,” Seokjin sighs, pressing his lips hard against Yoongi’s in a quick kiss. “You ready, baby?”
Yoongi purses his lips at the short kiss, but the smile on his face doesn’t disappear. He nods his head.
“Yes, sir.”
Seokjin grins back and scoots back on his hands and knees. When his face is above Yoongi’s cock, he stops and lays down on his stomach on the floor, right between Yoongi’s legs. He swipes his thumb against the bitemark on Yoongi’s thigh, revelling at the shudder of Yoongi’s body. He looks at Yoongi, who stares at him with wide eyes, chin tucked to his chest as he tries to lift his head up high enough to see.
“You can rest on your elbows, if you want to look,” Seokjin says, horizontally tucking one of his own forearms under his chest to support himself. He uses his other hand to take hold Yoongi’s cock, wrapping his fingers around it. It’s been rubbed into an angry red by Seokjin’s slacks, so he’s gentle with his touch. He pulls Yoongi’s foreskin down until the mushroom tip is fully exposed and pushes it back up again, covering the tip. Miraculously, Yoongi is still emitting precum, though much less than in the beginning.
Yoongi scrambles to follow Seokjin’s instructions, eyes glued on the way Seokjin moves his hand over his cock. Seokjin sends him a quick glance and a grin, which goes mostly unnoticed, because Yoongi is transfixed by the way Seokjin’s hand strokes down on him.
As the tip is exposed, Seokjin leans forward and opens his mouth. He rests Yoongi’s cock on his lower lip, licking the tiny bead of precum off of Yoongi’s slit. There is a pause, as he savours the flavour. Almost thoughtfully, his lips wrap around the tip, and he gently suckles on it.
Yoongi’s mind is empty, but it’s loud. It’s loud with the hum Seokjin makes, the sound of his lips popping off, the slurp of saliva that Seokjin gathers in his mouth before coating Yoongi’s cock with it. His mind is filled with the image of Seokjin staring at him as he licks at the tip of Yoongi’s cock before taking it into his mouth again. He feels nothing but the wet, burning heat of Seokjin’s mouth on him.
It’s all driving him mad. He’s wanted this for months by now, wanted Seokjin’s mouth on his cock. To have Seokjin’s lips, the lips that have haunted his wet dreams night after night and his daydreams day after day, wrapped around only his tip is torture. A devil’s version of fulfilling his sexual fantasies.
But he's so sensitive, so worn down that having his cock be teased by Seokjin's mouth like this is enough.
“Ah,” Yoongi gasps. “Aah!”
“Hm?” Seokjin blinks at him, but doesn’t stop.
“C-ah! Cumming!” Yoongi forces out. “Please-“
“Mm,” Seokjin hums, his mouth vibrating against the tip of Yoongi’s cock. “Mm…”
Yoongi can’t find his voice. His mouth forms the words, but the air is lodged somewhere in his lungs.
“Mm-ah…” Seokjin’s mouth pops off Yoongi’s cock again, connected by a string of saliva. The head of Yoongi's cock is so red and it keeps twitching like crazy in Seokjin's hand. “Yes?”
His hand strokes the shaft spreading his saliva, making it wet.
“Ngh!” Yoongi grits his teeth. “Please, please, please, let me cum, please.”
His words come out rapid fire. He clenches his abdomen, waiting for permission.
“Ah,” Seokjin replies slowly, stroking again. “You want to cum?”
Yoongi manages to tightly nod. His body is tense and coiled from effort.
Seokjin hums in understanding. He strokes Yoongi’s cock one more time and brings the tip back closer to his mouth.
“Of course you may cum,” Seokjin says, tone light, almost like he’s wondering why Yoongi would ask. His lips wrap around Yoongi, and he stares right at Yoongi with wide eyes as he rubs his tongue against Yoongi’s slit.
Yoongi grunts, tension leaving his shoulders as his breaths move through his body like waves. His gaze tries to latch onto Seokjin’s face but its so unfocused he only sees a blur of movement. But he can still hear Seokjin’s slurps and pleased hums, can feel the movement of his tongue, the pressure of his hand, the warm embrace of those fucking lips–
“Oh! Ooh…”
Yoongi’s eyelids flutter as his orgasm wrecks through his body and he releases into Seokjin’s mouth. He feels Seokjin’s tongue lap it all up, feels his lips suckle as he milks the cum out of Yoongi and gathers it in his mouth. He feels Seokjin’s hand squeeze the base of his cock, stroking it upwards to push all of the cum towards his waiting tongue.
Finally, Seokjin pulls away with one last pop of his lips, a cum-saliva string connecting his mouth and Yoongi’s cock for a second, before it breaks. Seokjin’s cheeks are comically puffed out as he purses his lips. Clumsily, he crawls back over Yoongi’s body, grabbing him by the chin, prying his mouth open with his thumb.
Yoongi, still a bit disoriented, takes a while to understand, even with Seokjin’s insisted hums. Eventually he catches up and tilts his head back, slotting his mouth against Seokjin’s spit-soaked lips. Seokjin makes a pleased squeak and spits the cum and saliva into Yoongi’s mouth.
Once most of it is in Yoongi’s mouth, Seokjin backs away and swallows what is left in his mouth. He stares at Yoongi, who still has lips parted and showing the pool of cloudy cum-saliva on his tongue.
“Ng?” Yoongi makes a questioning noise.
“You may swallow,” Seokjin grants him permission, and Yoongi gulps down the cum and saliva mixture.
“Thank you, sir,” Yoongi says, sounding breathless.
Seokjin smiles, then looks around them, at Yoongi, and at himself, smile waning.
“Do I even need to say…”
Yoongi chuckles, suddenly feeling a lot more tired, sticky, crusty and chilly. He looks at his clothes that Seokjin had thrown in a corner in their hurry, but feels apprehensive.
Seokjin catches on and pats Yoongi’s chest.
“I think a warm shower is in order. You can put your clothes on afterwards,” he says. “And I can put on a change…”
Seokjin wiggles uncomfortably as his cum-soaked underwear sticks to his skin. He helps Yoongi up, leading him to the bathroom in the back of his office with a firm hand on Yoongi’s lower back. After gently scraping most of the wax off of Yoongi’s body, he starts to undress himself. As he does, he feels a forgotten item in his pocket.
Seokjin pulls out Yoongi’s panties.
Yoongi, who is leaning against the bathroom wall, groans and rubs his face with his hand.
“Just throw them out–“
“Can I keep these?” Seokjin cuts Yoongi off. He shakes his head. “No, I’m keeping these.”
Yoongi flushes as he looks at Seokjin, before turning away muttering:
“Suit yourself.”
Seokjin grins, and lays the panties down carefully on the bathroom counter.
About ten minutes later, Yoongi is still standing under the spray of Seokjin’s shower, cheek pressed against Seokjin’s shoulder, mindlessly staring at his chin. Seokjin is doing his best to wash off the shampoo from Yoongi’s hair with slowly movements.
“Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin calls to him, his name vibrating in Seokjin’s chest. “I’d like to double the length of our session next time, if that’s alright with you?”
Yoongi isn’t too intelligent in his reply to Seokjin, a simple warbling “huh” directed at the strange request.
Seokjin is patient with Yoongi’s brain rebooting itself, petting Yoongi’s wet hair with a small smile.
“Aren’t you fully booked?” Yoongi asks with a frown. He would hate to have someone steal his spot from Seokjin’s calendar, and doing that to someone else isn’t his cup of tea. He can be blunt, and a little bit mean when required, but he isn’t an ass.
“You’re my last client for the day next week. I’m available for overtime. Though…” Seokjin pauses in the middle of speaking, face leaning closer to Yoongi’s ear until his breath fans Yoongi’s skin.
Yoongi shivers at the feeling, unconsciously leaning towards it.
“That’s only if you want..?”