you just signed up right?
fyi most people won’t bite if there’s no name or pic
even if your listed income is that high :p
i dont want to put a picture up
people will think you’re fake
trying to have fun as a prank or
why wouldnt it work?
after all you messaged me right :))
i'm kinda bored, being nice
also i’ve never seen someone talk about dogs in a profile
so that was a little refreshing
dogs are the greatest!!!!!
do you have any pets?
hmm, no. but i can be yours
or you can be mine. whatever you’re into
for the right price
oh my god
this is a prank isn’t it
no its not that was just
well. this is an arrangement site.
to make arrangements.
i liked it
liked which part?
being the pet
you’re really hot
now we’re getting somewhere
see the convenience of profile pictures?
:( i can’t
what is it?
it's okay if you're lying about your age lmao
looks don’t matter to me if you pay
no i really am!!! young
well, i guess 24 is young?
idk i feel overwhelmed a lot
like life is going by so fast you know
but everyone older than me gets mad when i say i feel old
but i swear i really am 24
and i think i look pretty good
not to sound conceited or anything just
i've got reason to believe people like how i look
you’re weird, gucci boy
it’s supposed to be gucci right?
gucci was taken
so we’re the same age, then
that would’ve been kinda hot, ngl
dont worry about it
what i do, i mean
this is my first time doing anything like this
what are you looking for, then?
ultimately, true love
maybe a nice house with a dog
and kids!!! i like kids
wrong site, man
for now i really just
let me finish :(
i can’t get laid
so you are ugly?
i have really good eyebrows
then why not?
i just dont really have time for a relationship
like, a real one
one night stands?
i cant risk them
with what i do, i mean
so you ARE a mob boss
i like certain things
but i couldnt trust someone enough with a one night stand for them
but no time for relationship
so here you are
you want an arrangement
im so embarrassed
what is it you’re looking for?
those ‘certain things’
you’d be interested?
i thought my lack of profile picture was a turn off
no one professional will bother without a name or picture
but lucky for you, i'm looking for a new sub atm
so i guess i’m doing charity
just being honest
do you see my favorites? i’m a hot commodity
prince of busan, professional dom for rent, occasional sugar baby
all at your service for the right price
really, though, you seem cute
if you’re real
then do i get a picture?
you said it didnt matter
i’m not going to judge
you can keep your face out of it, if that’s what you’re worried about
that’s pretty common
but i need evidence you're not wasting my time
gimme a minute
im definitely interested
The pen’s tap against the desk is deafening in the quiet of the motel room. Taehyung’s lost in thought and a little of something else, supposed to be working but his eyes keep straying to his phone where it sits, regrettably silent.
Almost no notification for 23 minutes now, not that he’s counting, except he is. The only thing distracting Taehyung away from the tech is anxious stolen glances at the clock.
He jumps in his seat when his phone buzzes against the desk, scrabbling for it with shaken hands to look to the screen—only to groan and drop back into his seat when it’s just an alert from his manager with pickup details for a shoot tomorrow.
And that’s the furthest thing from his mind. As if he could focus on work now. This may only have started when he’d been bored and a little adventurous, lazily registering an account on this app and expecting nothing to come of it, but now Taehyung’s spent the last hour or so glued to his phone, way more into it than he’d like to admit.
Just to be teased like this. In mourning Taehyung unlocks his phone and rereads over the conversation, unable to deny the interest that stirs in him at—everything, really. At the domineering tone even through text, at the guy’s gorgeous eyes and lips. At the possibility of what could be.
Maybe he should’ve said something different. If he recalls all he’d been able to send back was a hurried yeah? and figured it was flirty enough, but it’s been almost thirty-two minutes (still not counting) with no response.
Absently Taehyung’s hand goes to his thigh, as it tends to do, running a thoughtless hand from his leg up under his shirt and tracing his skin. It’s pleasant, mindlessly so, just the way he always starts to idly work himself up with a soft touch pretending it’s another hand.
In this scenario, it’s one busanprince’s. Taehyung had thought to himself that even if nothing comes out of this, he’s going to have no shortage of fantasies about what those lips could do to him. It’d be amazing because it’s what he wants, and maybe it’s irresponsible but what he wants is to be wrecked. Safely, anonymously, discreetly, but wrecked nonetheless. Taehyung tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut, and imagines: laying back in his fancy hotel beds always booked king sized, laid bare with an assuring hand on him. Helpfully his imagination supplies the potential of his hands bound above his head, and he accepts the vision with a shiver. In his mind the rope strains at his wrists, and by the time Taehyung realizes his fingers have slipped past his hem of his pants they’re already wet.
Like that he plays with himself for a while, worked up faster than usual at the scenario his mind creates. Taehyung touches himself and thinks about a guy he’s never met, imagines a smirk he’s never seen and nearly whines. Offers instead ragged little sighs, ones that time with the way he strokes at himself. He loses himself in the fantasy, reaching the edge entirely too quickly—
On the desk the phone buzzes.
Taehyung nearly falls off the chair when he jumps, a little ashamed and a lot flustered, and goes for his phone. He’s half expecting it to be his manager again, which is a bit of a moodkill, but—the notification reads busanprince.
“Shit,” Taehyung curses, stomach fluttering. He snatches his phone off the desk and practically scrambles to the motel bed to crash down and curl up with his phone like he’d been previously, any illusion of getting work done tonight abandoned. “Shit.”
sorry, had to finish up a session
i’d work with you, gucci boy
if you’re still interested, that is
“Holy shit,” Taehyung whispers, mind racing with what to reply. He’d let himself down easy with a hand between his legs, but just like that everything’s back on the table.
And that should be it, but before Taehyung can reply (then lay back and quite possibly pick up where he left off, now that the possibilities are open again—) a new message pops up onscreen.
i’m still thinking about those lips
Taehyung’s mouth dries.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung whispers when the picture loads, because that must be what he’s looking at. A god. Unconsciously Taehyung runs his own hand back up under his shirt with a shiver, imagining touching and being touched the same way. Almost whimpers, because it’s too easy now, and before he knows it he’s coming messily into his hand a few minutes later, shuddering a little past a point of overstimulation when he feathers his fingers over himself til it’s nearly unbearable.
Finally he sags back into the bed, limp. Doesn’t get to rest for long, because like magic his phone lights up again, caught in the act clear as day:
you have read receipts on, you know.
Taehyung nearly drops his phone on his face.
“Holy shit,” he whispers again, mind racing with what to reply. As if he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough already. Swipes at the notification with fumbling fingers, cursing himself to think: finally types out the truth.
Taehyung can’t think of what to reply to that, but he certainly hadn’t intended to fall asleep while searching for what to say. No matter his regrets his alarm goes off at its bright and early six am without fail, though Taehyung jolts wide awake remembering the previous night without its help.
Yet there’s no new messages. More disappointed than he’d like to admit, Taehyung tucks his phone away. He showers with a bit of a grimace at himself for not doing so last night. Still distracted by the previous night, getting ready is a slower process than usual, which is emphasized with a call from his manager.
“Lobby in fifteen.”
“Good morning to you, too, Yoongi.”
Yoongi offers a sound of approval into the earpiece before disconnecting. Taehyung heads to the closet and then down into the lobby once he’s ready.
Yoongi’s a good manager, has been working with him for almost three years now. He gives Taehyung a critical once-over, but if he notices his undereye’s a little darker than usual from the late night, he doesn’t say anything, just hands him a coffee and leads him out to the van. It’s nothing makeup artists can’t fix, anyway.
Halfway through the ride Taehyung knows it’s a risk rereading, so he instead settles for a text. It’s a little suspicious angling his phone away from Yoongi while still appearing innocent, but he manages:
good morning :)
The reply shoots back almost instantly. Taehyung can’t help but smile at his phone, a little giddy. Yoongi glances at him, and Taehyung quickly schools his expression. He doubts he’s fooled him, but he looks away for now.
would you mind doing a favor for me?
“Taehyung,” Yoongi says, startling him from his reverie. Taehyung fumbles a little with his phone, starting guiltily. “We’re here.”
As they climb out of the van and walk toward the studio, Taehyung walks a little faster when Yoongi falls into step beside him. It doesn’t deter his manager, though, and Taehyung winces when he asks so casually:
“Are you dating someone?”
He’s always quick to get to the point. Taehyung shakes his head furiously. “No.”
“We’ve talked about this. You’re allowed to, you know,” Yoongi says, looking at him carefully. “But I need to know, to avoid any potential scandals.”
“I’m not,” Taehyung promises. It’s the truth. “I swear when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Yoongi looks doubtful, but acquiesces at that. They’re interrupted anyway once they get inside the studio, Taehyung smiling to see Jung Hoseok again. He’s one of his favorite photographers, and he thinks he might have a suspicion why Yoongi manages to book him so often.
Before they can drag him off to the chair, though, Taehyung slips his phone back out. Yoongi’s safely distracted by Hoseok, a small smile playing on his lips.
would you mind doing a favor for me?
:o sure, what’s up?
[user is typing…]
“Taehyung,” Hoseok calls. Yoongi’s looking exasperated, so sheepishly, Taehyung tucks his phone away and heads deeper into the studio.
It’s only later, halfway through the shoot and on a break, that Taehyung manages to sneak a glance at his phone.
before we get started, i’d like a list from you
sorry i vanished!!
im at work
what kind of list?
a list of what you’re into
start thinking about what you’d like
so i can get an idea and work up a plan for when we meet
things you don’t want to do
and then we can talk about arranging a meeting.
if you’re still interested in playing
i’ll make a list tonight
what are you thanking me for? haha
and take your time, no rush
get back to work! :p
haha you got it
For the rest of the day, Taehyung’s concentration is—well, he’s a professional, so he pulls it off. But anyone else’s focus might’ve been shattered. Maybe it helps, for certain shots, because when Hoseok tells him to lid his eyes and looks like he wants it, Taehyung’s thinking about the sinful lips of busanprince’s profile picture grinning over him.
“You’ve been glancing at your phone all day. You’re sure there’s not something I should know?” Yoongi asks once more on the ride back to the hotel. Taehyung knows he’s being a concerned manager, but he fidgets anyway. “Not someone I should know about?”
Taehyung gives him a dazzling smile, the one reserved for red carpets and asking for diet cheat days. Yoongi looks unimpressed, or maybe he’s just too used to it.
“It really is nothing,” Taehyung insists, leg bouncing. Almost the instant the van pulls in front of the hotel he’s bounding out, nodding through the briefing for tomorrow’s schedule and nearly dashing up to his hotel room. Suspicious, but he’ll deal with repercussions tomorrow.
He’s got a list to make.
It’s an hour after Taehyung finally sends off the note he’s carefully written up that busanprince responds. He’d put thought into it, listing things he’d like to try and scenarios he fantasizes most about. It makes him flush just to look at it: most have something to do with humiliation in some form, and all are submissive. There’s a few more specific things listed, but he’s excited enough and can’t wait any longer before sending it off with an attached note of probably could think of more later! some basics! and a smiley emoji.
This time, though, the reply isn’t instant. Taehyung gets twitchy when he’s impatient, doing anything he can think of to distract himself. He takes a selfie to post to his social media. He browses comments and articles. Watches videos, and halfway through the third, the notification from the app finally pops up, bringing a grin to his face.
looks like you’re pretty submissive, then?
is that okay?
i'm a pro dom, gucci boy
that works then haha
so what are you thinking
we should talk, first
i usually wait for first meeting but...
are you available right now?
to call, i mean
Taehyung freezes, and he’s not sure why. Partly, he supposes, because it makes it seem so real. He’s serious, he is, but it’s that everything up til now has been almost a game, a fun little focus and a bit of a fantasy. But a glance at busanprince’s profile picture and 99% community approval rating has him biting his lip and clicking open the reply box.
umm can i just say
i’m a little shy v___v
aww, don’t worry
ive got a lot of experience with first time clients
whatever you say, baby
call whenever you’re ready
Taehyung stares at his screen, at the phone number that pops up, for a while, read receipts be damned. Swallows thick because that innocent baby is doing more to him than he’d like to admit.
He wants this, though. And maybe it’s stupid and risky but—the payoff won’t stop playing through his head.
So he dials the number.
There’s a bit of a delay between call and pickup, each ring bringing Taehyung’s anxiety higher and expectations lower. At least, he thinks, if he gets uncomfortable he can always hang up. Deactivate the account. Pretend this never happened. He still has that power.
Oh. busanprince’s voice is soft, the tone apparent even with one word. Taehyung nearly blanks.
“Uh, hello,” Taehyung finally manages, intelligently. “It’s, uh. It’s me.” He cringes, curling in a little on himself, but gets a quiet chuckle in reply.
“Gucci boy?” Taehyung nods, then remembers he can’t see him, and confirms. “Mm, I was starting to worry you wouldn’t call.”
“I’m a little nervous,” Taehyung admits in a mumble, wanting to hide his face. Another soft laugh.
“That’s normal. This is about you, okay?” busanprince says. “If you’re uncomfortable at any point, tell me to stop. Or even hang up if you’re nervous, but I’ll stop if you tell me to, and we can talk it through.”
“Okay,” Taehyung says softly. “I understand.”
“Good boy,” busanprince praises, and god, that goes right to him. He’d put the pet name on his list beside praise but it’s still such a shock to hear aloud, let alone directed at him. Taehyung bites his lip, swallowing hard. “...is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” Taehyung says instantly, flushing red when his voice comes out a too-interested rasp. There’s no way to miss it, but busanprince continues.
“Just to start off with, if it makes things easier, my name is Jimin.” busanprince—no, Jimin—says. “You’re new to the site, but are you new to these types of arrangements too?”
“Yeah,” Taehyung says, clearing his throat and putting an extra bit of effort in to make himself sound normal. He can’t place the feeling, but it’s something like dizziness, a little out of his body and hard to think because he can’t quite process yet that this is happening.
“So you’re submissive,” Jimin doesn’t wait for verbal confirmation. “Everything on your list is very do-able. We can set up a meeting to talk everything over, whenever’s fine for you, and see if we think it would work out.”
“A meeting?” Taehyung asks, hugging his pillow to himself. “Like…”
“No play, yet.” Jimin says, and Taehyung can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed. “For first meetings, we go somewhere nice, in public, and see if we hit it off. Talk about arrangements then.”
“Like a date?” Taehyung says, then claps his hand over his mouth in mortification. But all he hears is a sweet giggle from Jimin, and chuckles along nervously.
“Mhm, like a date. You can pick the place, I don’t mind. I’ll text you the empty spots in my schedule, and we can find something that matches up, see if you'd want to work together.”
“That sounds...good,” Taehyung says. It’s all still a little surreal. “I didn’t really know what to expect, but...it’s so easy.”
“It’s supposed to be. Easy play, no strings attached, right?” Taehyung hears rustling on the other end of the line, an absentminded hum. “So, Gucci boy. Tell me about yourself.”
Taehyung bites his lip. “About myself?”
“Don’t worry, it’s not a test. Just a little bit of familiarity between us. Doesn’t have to be anything major.”
“Well…” Taehyung thinks, a little shy. Jimin likely means information more personal, but all he can think of is the physical. “I’m 24, 179cm.”
“Ah, taller than me,” Jimin complains, smile in his voice. A little giddy, Taehyung presses his grin into his pillow. “Any interests? Hobbies?”
“Mm...I like art, a lot,” Taehyung admits, unsure what’s gotten him so bashful. Maybe it’s that promise of intimacy, the way it can sometimes be so much easier to open up to a stranger than a friend; because he hasn’t shared this yet with anyone, neither fans nor friends. “I’ve been trying to draw, recently. Teaching myself. Just on the side. And... photos, sometimes, too.”
“You’ll have to show me some of your work,” Jimin says. Anyone else and Taehyung would be protesting, but Jimin already seems so familiar. It's easy to talk to him.
“M’not very good yet,” Taehyung professes. Jimin clicks his tongue.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s practice, you know? Like anything.”
“Right,” Taehyung nods eagerly. “Do you draw? Or, I mean, what are your hobbies, too?”
Jimin laughs soft. “You’re sweet to be interested. I dance, actually.”
“Oh, wow,” Taehyung says, feeling bad for the images that immediately race through his mind. Jimin seems to catch on, because he teases:
“Just,” Taehyung says, scrambling. “You, uh...must be pretty fit.” And god, his face is burning the moment he says it. “To dance, I mean! You know...exercise, and all.”
“Mm, you didn’t see the picture I sent you?” Jimin asks. Taehyung’s breath catches because of course he remembers.
“No, I did, just...”
“Oh, you did see it? You didn’t reply for a while.”
His voice is smug, and Taehyung realizes he knows. Not that it’s hard to figure out, but he’s being teased.
“There…might be another reason for that,” Taehyung ventures, burying his face in the pillow.
“Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Taehyung nearly groans. “Could you repeat yourself? A little clearer, baby.”
Baby. Taehyung shivers. “I…”
“Is it possible…” Taehyung’s never even met Jimin, barely spoken to him, but he can recognize the smirk in his voice. He feels hot. “You liked it a little too much?”
“Um…” Taehyung squirms, confessing and trying not to mumble. “Maybe.”
“Maybe, huh?” Jimin muses, and then says outright, “Did you touch yourself?”
Taehyung chokes. “I…”
“Yes,” Taehyung answers in a breath, before he can overthink it.
“Cute,” Jimin coos, and Taehyung flushes. “Are you touching yourself right now?”
“I...I can,” Taehyung says, leg bouncing in a heady mix of nervousness and anticipation. “If…”
“Do you want to?” Jimin asks. “Only if you want to.”
“Yea, I...I want to,” Taehyung nods, and remembers Jimin can’t see it. “I want to,” he reaffirms, quiet but firm.
“Okay,” Jimin says, his voice soft. “I don't usually play before pay, but... You can consider this a free trial, if you like. But only if you like. I want to emphasize that. I want you to be comfortable.”
“I am,” Taehyung mumbles. The silk of the hotel pajamas slides so wonderfully across his skin when he turns over, laying on his back to face up to the ceiling. A shiver goes across him when he tugs up the material of the shirt, running a hand over his stomach and chest feeling exposed to the room AC.
"I couldn’t stop thinking about you either, you know. About the picture you sent me,” Jimin says, voice so smooth, almost hypnotic. Taehyung bites his lip.
“Mm. You’ve got such pretty lips. Perfect to kiss and bite. Would you like that, baby?”
“Yes,” Taehyung flushes to hear his voice, almost a keen. It’s ridiculous how needy he feels and sounds already, but he wants it, wants to be kissed and teased, and licks his own lips imagining. Jimin chuckles, because it’s so apparent, but somehow knowing he’s been caught just makes it even better.
"I thought you might. I can kiss you all you like when we play, if you want me to.” Jimin hums. “But it’d be so much more fun to make you earn it, don’t you think so?”
Just like that, Taehyung’s breath stutters out, and almost unconsciously his hand slides lower. Doesn’t tug down the material, not just yet, but his hips still shift when he palms himself through the silk with its friction so soft.
“I can earn it,” he barely manages. “How can I earn it?”
“You know, just thinking about you got me so hard,” Jimin murmurs, and Taehyung stills before renewing movement twice as desperately, entranced. “You’re so hot, but so cute. God, wanted you to sub for me so bad. I couldn’t stop thinking about your thighs, baby. Would you let me kiss them?”
“Please,” Taehyung whines out, hand slipping under the hem of the pants and tugging them down. He’s so hard already, and he’s only been teased; would suggest specifying that he likes it on his list, but Taehyung’s got a sneaking suspicion Jimin’s already figured it out.
“You get so needy so quick,” Jimin croons. A little whimper slips out past Taehyung’s lips despite himself, and a soft laugh is his reward. “Oh, I'd have so much fun playing with you. Wanna make you so desperate. Yea, I’d kiss your thighs, pretty baby. Bite ‘em too, maybe mark you up. Would you like that?”
He’s in front of a camera far too often for any lasting marks, and they’ll have to talk about it if an arrangement is made, but in the moment Taehyung whimpers and works his hips up into his hand, pulling away only to dribble spit into his palm and spread it best he can over his dick.
“Answer me,” Jimin says, voice shifting lower. “I’ll punish you for things like that, you know.”
“I’d—I’d like it,” Taehyung nearly moans, no longer bothering to hide how badly he’s affected.
“You like things a bit rougher, then, huh? Are you touching yourself now?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung mumbles a confirmation. “So am I. Imagining it’s you, Gucci boy. I’m not moving too fast, am I?”
“No! No,” Taehyung answers, a little too panicked, can almost hear the laughter in Jimin’s voice.
“You are needy, huh? Careful, baby. I can use that against you.” Jimin sighs out so low, and Taehyung can barely hold back a huff of his own breath to think that somewhere in the city Jimin’s mirroring his own position even so much more in control. “I can already think of so many games I can play with you, if you work with me. Bet you’d rile yourself up on my thighs for me if I asked, huh?”
“I would,” Taehyung agrees readily, breathy. “Would I—Would I get rewarded?” and closes his eyes instantly embarrassed.
“Of course,” Jimin says. “If you do what I say. It doesn’t take much to get off like that, though, hm? Rutting up on my thigh. Wanna know how I’d make you earn that kiss?”
“Please tell me,” Taehyung nearly begs.
“I think I’d like you to put on a show for me like that. But up the stakes a little, yeah? Have you ever edged yourself?”
“M-mm, yeah,” Taehyung says, sliding the pajama bottoms down and kicking them free of his ankles. With the newfound freedom he rolls over, slotting a pillow between his legs, and closes his eyes to pretend it’s a strong thigh instead, and a hand in his hair. “M’not very good, though, I—I give in too easy.”
“I can train you,” Jimin says so hot and low, a little bit of a rasp beginning to creep into his voice. “You’ll do it for your kiss, won’t you? I’ll keep you on my thigh and you’ll work so hard to impress me, stopping before you come.”
“Please,” Taehyung moans, past the point of shame. He’s rolling his hips so slow and nice, testing the pace before picking up, unable to be embarrassed when it feels so good.
"That’s how I want to make you,” Jimin says. Taehyung can hear in his voice he’s close, too, and can’t help biting his fist to keep back a cry at a particularly sensuous thrust of his hips. “All desperate and needy, wanting so badly to come til you’re shaking and begging me. Twice, maybe three times. You’d be too cute for me to resist, then, leaking all over my stomach. I’d let you come, and give you all the kisses you want.”
“O-Oh— fuck —” and Taehyung doesn’t mean to, doesn’t expect it but his hips work more and more frantically throughout Jimin’s descriptions til his hips are stuttering and he’s coming before he realizes, gasping out raggedly. Keeps working his hips, slowing, moaning out a little when he can hear a muffled gasp from the other end of the line, too.
They spend a minute like that, breathing heavy in sync on the line. Recovering, Taehyung letting his head spin and opening his eyes.
“Did you make yourself come?” Jimin asks after the moment passes. He sounds so collected, again, but his voice is warm.
“Yes,” Taehyung whispers, looking a little shamefully at the mess on the pillow between his legs, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. “That was—really good. I—thank you.”
“I did too,” Jimin tells him, and Taehyung smiles, tired but still giddy and proud. “I don’t usually get off with clients. I meant everything I said. I'm very interested in working with you.”
“I want to, too,” Taehyung admits quietly, finally rolling back over and throwing the pillow to the floor to worry about in the morning. He’d like a shower, too, but at the moment his limbs are liquid. “I’m really scared, but...really excited, too.”
“It’s normal to be nervous," Jimin reassures him. “I've had new clients, we'll stick within limits, whatever you're comfortable with... What’s your name, by the way? I never got it, Gucci boy.”
“I—” Taehyung hesitates. It’s back to that elephant in the relationship, that for the partnership to work Jimin is going to have to know who he is. The fear comes trickling back in cold, and feeling so uncomfortable, he mumbles, “Can I...Can I wait, and tell you in person?”
There’s silence on the line for a long second, and afraid he’s ruined everything Taehyung bites his lip and almost makes to apologize when Jimin says, “Of course. That’s fine. Are you worried about discretion?” Taehyung hesitates, and gives a confirmation. “I understand. I’m discreet, but it’s very normal to be worried.”
“Okay,” Taehyung says, but can’t help adding an embarrassed, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Jimin scolds him gently. “If you’re ever uncomfortable about anything, you don’t even need to give me a reason, just tell me. I’m glad we can establish that already.”
Assured, Taehyung can’t help but smile to himself, even if the anxiety’s still there over what could happen when they actually meet. Still, Jimin’s reassured him for the moment, and he’s content. Blissfully so, and soothed to sleep, if his fuzzy mind’s any indication. So he says:
“Could we...could we talk until I fall asleep?” Taehyung asks, throwing an arm over his eyes, bracing himself for rejection.
“Aw. Of course,” Jimin says instead. “Did you think I was going to hang up on you? The phone sex equivalent of skipping out the next morning?"
“Maybe,” Taehyung says, and the both of them laugh.
"I always take care of aftercare with my clients," Jimin promises. "Even if you're still on an unofficial free trial."
More at ease, Taehyung makes himself comfortable, tucking the phone beside him and curling up with a clean hotel pillow.
It should be awkward, but it’s not. Jimin’s ridiculously easy to talk to, and Taehyung finds he likes the way Jimin teases him, so gently. Before it gets too late Jimin sends Taehyung a list of his schedule, and lets him pick a time in the blanks and a place they can meet that works for him.
“This Thursday, at noon?” Taehyung asks with a sleepy hum. All the shoots for this particular spread wrap up on Wednesday, and Yoongi always clears his schedule to give him the next day off. “I know a nice café in Hongdae.”
“That works just fine for me,” Jimin says. “Text me the address, and I’ll see you there.”
It’s a date. Taehyung can barely recall what they continue to talk about, but when his alarm goes off the next morning he feels the most rested and satisfied he has in months.
On the appointed day of, Taehyung spends around two hours picking out what to wear, dressing and undressing before settling on something as nice yet inconspicuous as he can manage: ditches the dress shirts for a simple long sleeve black & white dotted piece, flattering though plain enough to match a mask and cap.
Despite the delay in dressing, Taehyung arrives at the café a half hour early. He finds himself in back, tucked into a corner table by request. He doesn’t seem to be recognized, so he passes the time and fights off his nervousness with an ordered iced tea, a text to Jimin describing his outfit and table, and a snapped selfie to upload later.
Taehyung’s refreshed his feed for the third time when the bell above the shop door jingles. Just like every ring before, Taehyung is hit with a new wave of anxiety. This time, however, instead of being chased away by the sight of a couple or anyone obviously not his lunch date, Taehyung’s nervousness only increases: because the person who steps in is a guy that looks to be his age, dark hair and a denim jacket and way too hot for Taehyung’s health. Taehyung starts hyperventilating somewhere between the way maybe-Jimin runs a hand over his hair and scans the cafe, and when his eyes land on him and light up Taehyung’s sure his heart’s stopped.
Taehyung half lifts a hand in greeting, and the man who’s definitely Jimin and definitely too beautiful for Taehyung to handle smiles, shrugging up his bag on his shoulder and heading over. His heart’s pounding in his chest but everything seems to go well—that is, until Jimin reaches his table, and Taehyung sees the light of recognition flash in his eyes.
“Oh, wow,” Jimin says, coming to an abrupt stop, and Taehyung can tell his awe is for more than seeing him. “It’s you. I—know you.”
and suddenly Taehyung’s a little embarrassed and a lot scared, because Jimin’s standing long enough that some people are starting to look even as far back and in the corner as his table is.
“Please sit down,” he almost begs, and the frantic note in his voice must catch Jimin’s attention, because he blinks and slides into the booth across from him. Taehyung leans back into his own, turned self conscious in a moment, and tugs up the collar of his shirt.
Jimin must be used to the nervousness, but Taehyung’s sure he’s taking it to a whole new level, fidgeting under Jimin’s stare and playing with his sleeves.
“Hey,” Jimin says finally, reaching out a hand across the table. Doesn’t place it on one of Taehyung’s, but beside his instead, a comforting presence. “Don’t freak out. I told you, discretion, remember? I’m just a little surprised.”
“Okay,” Taehyung says, and tries to take a breath, like he hasn’t just seen his career flash before his eyes. “Um, hi, then.”
“Hey, Gucci boy.” There’s a small smile on Jimin’s lips, and he keeps his voice quiet when he adds: “Kim Taehyung.”
Taehyung stiffens and looks around, but the scene is loud and they’ve gone back to being ignored. Still a bit of a whine— “You said discreet.”
“Oh, I am,” Jimin says. “It’s just—I’m a bit of a fan, I guess? Like, your aesthetic and your face and stuff. I follow you on Instagram, actually.”
Taehyung colors a little at that, tilting his head. Of course he’s had people tell him they’re fans before, but it’s a little different coming out of the mouth of someone who looks like a modern Adonis and has made him come over the phone.
“A fan, huh?” he manages.
“Yup,” Jimin pops the syllable. “There was this one photoshoot, last year, with a bandana—”
“For YNWA’s spring issue,” Taehyung recalls softly.
Jimin grins at him. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize your voice, actually. You’ve probably starred in at least four of my wet dreams.”
“Only four?” Taehyung asks. Jimin laughs.
“The night is young,” he says dramatically. But there must be anxiety playing on Taehyung’s face again, because he softens. “Hey. Really, don’t worry, okay? 'M a professional, I’ve worked with people in the public eye. A director, even a politician. This is nothing.”
“Okay,” Taehyung repeats, still a little unconvinced. It’d been one thing before, all online and then breathy over the phone, but face to face it’s a little disconcerting. In the age of instant communication and media, Taehyung’s not feeling so great knowing a self-professed fan now has a list of everything that gets him off, whether it’s a job or not. Even if he’d had no idea who Taehyung was at the time, he does now. "I should've told you, I guess, I just—I didn't know how." he finishes lamely.
"Don't worry about it, okay? It's fine." Jimin pats the space beside his hand comfortingly, and stands, promising to return with his order. Taehyung spends the three minutes until Jimin returns with his tea in borderline existential agony, unable to crush the fear that this was a mistake, but—Jimin had been so kind, and so perfect for him. They’d already gotten along great even before meeting, so he shoves down the doubt as best he can and smiles at Jimin when he sits back down.
“It’s nice to meet you. In person, I mean. I’m serious about wanting to work with you, if you still want to.” is how Jimin starts. Taehyung hesitates, then nods, “Before we begin, I want to remind you what I said the other night. If you’re uncomfortable about anything, stop me, okay? We can discuss it.”
“I understand,” Taehyung agrees. Jimin nods back.
“So,” Jimin begins, and tugs a small notebook out of his bag. He turns to a blank page, and clicks a pen, turning businesslike in a moment. “Since you said this was your first time in any sort of arrangement, would you like me to go over an explanation, or have you done any research?”
Taehyung shakes his head, a little intimidated. “I skipped the homework portion. I’m sorry.”
Jimin shakes his head. “That’s fine. I’d rather handle a blank slate than someone full of misconceptions, you know?”
“That makes sense,” Taehyung says. “So what are we looking at?”
Jimin draws a line down the page. “Two things,” he says, tapping the pen. “The fastest way I can sum this up: it depends what you’re looking for.” Jimin writes down the notes as he speaks. “If you just want to meet for dom-sub sessions, pay for play—which is what I’m mostly doing nowadays—I charge by hour, not by content. I can fulfill most anything you want, with some limits.” He looks Taehyung in the eye, like he’s waiting for a reaction. “600k won is my current rate, but I’ll give discounts for longer appointments.”
Taehyung just blinks at him. He can afford it. Reassured with the negotiation, Jimin relaxes and continues on.
“Basically, we’d just plan out scenes and fulfill them. Aftercare’s included, of course, and then we part. Don’t see each other outside of it. The issue is where we can meet,” Jimin leans back and taps his pen to his chin. “I have kind of an office set up at my place, but I understand if you're not comfortable with that for our first session.”
Taehyung thinks for a moment. “I can book a hotel room.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow, teases, “Scandalous,” and they both laugh, Taehyung a little embarrassed. “That’s a good option. Cost is on you, though.”
“I want this,” Taehyung says quietly, looking down at his hands. “I can afford it.”
Jimin’s quiet a moment, but he nods when Taehyung looks up.
“What’s the other option?” Taehyung asks, pointing. “The other category.”
Jimin tilts his head. “The more intense, involved option. I haven’t really done sugar work in a while, but... well, to be honest, I think I’d make an exception for you,” he adds slyly, and Taehyung feels himself blush. “Rather than just our sessions, you’d be paying for, well, a relationship. Throw away what you think you know from what you’ve seen in popular culture. We negotiate how often we meet, what it is we do, etcetera. In return, you give me a monthly allowance, provide gifts.” Jimin pauses. “It is a relationship, though. You’re paying for my companionship. It’s why it’s harder to work out, because we have to actually like each other. So far, though, I’m not having any problems with that.”
Jimin winks, and Taehyung has to struggle not to swoon. Jimin’s really too much, even while discussing a relationship in its monetary value so formally.
“How much are we talking?”
“Well…” Jimin twirls the pen in his fingers. “It’s a negotiable rate, honestly. Depending on the terms we set, how often we meet, what we do—usually, though, I settled for four million won per month, at the very lowest.”
"Just that?" Taehyung frowns. Jimin snorts.
"I'm happy to take more, of course, Mr. Model," Jimin teases, "I'm just going off my usual minimum."
“Alright,” Taehyung smiles, thinking. “Can we—Can I think about it a little more, and stick with the first, for now? No offense, I mean, it sounds nice, I just—I have to think about where I’m at right now. What I want. I still don't even know... yeah.”
“Of course,” Jimin answers instantly. “You don’t have to decide anything today. You don’t even have to continue with this, if you don’t like, at any point.”
“I do,” Taehyung assures him. “I’m just not sure how it’d fit with my schedule for now... but, I am interested. In the first one, especially.” he colors a little red to say it. Jimin can’t keep a smile off his face.
“Cool,” he says so casually. “The limits, like I said, are pretty simple. We can’t actually have sex. It’s just one of my rules, for the by-the-hour sessions. Dom for rent, if you will. Make no mistake, though, you’ll have a great time.” Jimin grins devilishly. “I’ve already gone over your list of preferences and thought of a few scenarios we can play out.”
Taehyung shivers at the change in his voice, mouth suddenly dry. “That’s...I’d like that, yeah.” Then he swallows. “Just for curiosity’s sake. In the other option, the relationship...would there be sex?”
Jimin rests his chin in his palm. “It's not a given in sugar relationships," he says. "Depends on the wants of the people involved. But since I'd already be domming you, I’d negotiate it in our sessions. Especially for you.” He laughs when Taehyung blanches. “Let’s stay focused on what we’ve got so far, okay, Gucci boy? See how well we work together. When are you free?”
“I've got cheat days, and time off between bookings,” Taehyung thinks aloud. “I can check my schedule when I get back to my hotel, and see if it matches up?”
“Sure thing, just let me know.” Jimin takes a dainty sip of his tea. “Any day should be fine, really. You’re one of my customers, now. And honestly? Don’t tattle, but I’d clear my schedule for you.”
Taehyung tries to look guilty, but can’t help the rush of giddy pride that goes through him anyway. Jimin looks smug, like he knows.
“Anyway,” he says, and finally he does place his hand over Taehyung’s. “Let’s get talking about our first session.”
It’s not the following week, but the week after, that Taehyung secures a day off. He heads back to his hotel room after the day out to shower, but rather than dressing for bed he heads out with a fresh change of clothes for the hotel suite he’d booked in another district. He makes it successfully, tipping the cab driver extra, and heads to the room early.
Just around the appointed time of eight, there’s a knock on the door. Taehyung calls, a little warily, “Who is it?”
“It’s the maid,” Jimin’s voice sounds, muffled. Taehyung snorts, unlocking and pulling open the door.
“I feel like I’m going undercover,” is the first thing Jimin says when he sees him, giving Taehyung a wink when he walks past him, setting his backpack on the hotel room’s table. He’s dressed simply, black pants and a white v-neck shirt that’s flattering even plain, because Taehyung hadn’t had an outfit request. “Fancy hotel room, coming here separately. I like it.”
Taehyung smiles, assured by Jimin despite his anxiety. He’s incredibly easy to get along with, and has no trouble making Taehyung laugh.
“Sorry for any inconvenience,” Taehyung says, but Jimin waves his hand, and takes a seat at the table. Taehyung follows suit, opting instead to sit on the bed facing him, knees pressed together a little nervously. Jimin looks over him appraisingly.
“Before we start,” he says. “You remember everything we discussed?” Taehyung nods. “Safety words?”
“Louis Vuitton,” Taehyung says, wrinkling his nose.
Jimin rolls his eyes, like he had the first time Taehyung had said it. He’d originally thought Gucci would be hilarious, but Jimin had said he’s too fond of his nickname. So he’d wanted to list something that would immediately, undoubtedly turn him off. "The color system, Taehyung."
"Yellow to pause, red to stop," Taehyung pretends to sigh. Jimin chuckles, shaking his head.
“Alright. Good. I’ll get the bed ready. You can strip, if you’re still comfortable. Whenever you’re ready.”
Taehyung had told Jimin he didn't need too much time to ease into comfort, that being unclothed wasn’t a big deal. And it’s not; he’s stripped several times during work days for shoots or shows, rarely with the luxury of being alone. It’s second nature at this point, and Taehyung knows he looks good. Knows most of Korea agrees, too. It’s just a little different tonight. Still, he’s quick in ridding himself of his shirt and pants, folding them neatly over one of the suite’s chairs. He leaves on his briefs, though, because Jimin had asked him to at first, just to make sure he was comfortable.
Getting the bed ready turns out to be code for pulling back the thick hotel-standard comforter, which Jimin deposits on the floor ungracefully with a wrinkled nose. The sheets at least seem to satisfy, and he turns back to Taehyung with a smile, looking over him once before nodding.
“Go ahead and sit on the bed for me,” he says. Taehyung does so, already feeling anticipation from the way Jimin looks at him approvingly. Jimin turns to his bag and messes with it for a moment before returning to the bed.
“I decided on cotton,” Jimin says. In his hands he’s got a length of white braided rope, and shears that he sets on the bed beside Taehyung. “It’s easy to knot, and soft. These are just in case I need to cut later, because it’s hard to give. Okay?” Taehyung nods. In a move so maddening, Jimin kneels, positioning himself in front of Taehyung, rope still in hand. He’s watching Taehyung carefully, so Taehyung nods again in approval. Jimin continues. “Hold out your hands.”
He’s moved past asking, Taehyung notes with a swallow, and extends his arms out. Jimin works with a practiced efficiency, looping his wrists together and finishing with a neat center knot. The process is fast, and Jimin’s quiet, tongue poking out a little while he works. The end result is pretty, the braids of the rope blending into one another.
“How does it feel?” Jimin asks. “It’s not too tight?”
“It’s good,” Taehyung answers quietly, transfixed. “It’s fine. Just fine.”
Jimin’s thumb rubs at his wrist, and he pulls his hands back. “Move your hands for me,” he says, and Taehyung obeys, wiggling his fingers and tugging lightly. Jimin’s proven his expertise already, because it’s loose enough to allow a slide but remains firmly secure. Jimin tugs at each loop once more to be sure, then pats his hand and stands.
“Go ahead and lie back on the bed,” Jimin says, and watches him do so. It takes a little bit of wriggling with his hands bound in front of him, but the helpless feeling and Jimin’s eyes on him just start a pleasant prickling under his skin. “Close your eyes and spread your legs.”
The ceiling vanishes as Taehyung obeys, listening. Jimin’s returned to his bag by the sound of it, and a minute or so later the bed dips, in a way that suggests Jimin’s settling between his legs. There’s the sound of things being set down against each other, and then Jimin’s setting a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s knee, rubbing circles into the skin with his thumb.
“You can open your eyes now, if you like.” Jimin says. Taehyung does, blinking at Jimin. Whatever he’s brought with him to the bed is hidden beside him, likely as Jimin intended, and Taehyung knows better than to sit up and try to peek. “We can start whenever you’re ready.”
Taehyung takes a moment, breathes in and swallows before exhaling. There’s a pleasant buzz starting up behind his eyes, and he’s happy to realize how comfortable he is, the anxiety of earlier replaced with pure anticipation. So after a minute, he replies, “I’m ready.”
Jimin’s hand squeezes his thigh reassuringly, and he tilts his chin.
“Hands above your head,” Jimin says, and Taehyung lifts his arms up unquestioningly. He’d settled in the perfect spot, because the tips of his fingers just barely brush the headboard. “Keep them there unless I tell you otherwise. I’ll be mad if I have to tie them to the headboard. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Taehyung answers, a little numb. What they’re doing is something he’s dreamed of for so long, that in the moment it’s almost surreal.
“I want you to keep your legs spread for me, too,” Jimin says. “I know I don’t have to tie them tonight. You’ll be good for me, right?”
Taehyung nods, shivering a little, a glow going through him at the words.
“Here’s how tonight is going to work,” Jimin says, and Taehyung can’t help a contented sigh when Jimin starts working his hands on kneading Taehyung’s thighs, giving him a small smile to hear the sound. “We’re going to take things nice and slow, okay? Figure out what you like.”
Jimin doesn’t give any indication he’s heard Taehyung’s quiet okay, just continues. One hand gets taken off his thigh and disappears beside Jimin.
“Wanna get you nice and warmed up, first,” he says, and his hand reappears, item held delicately between his fingers. Taehyung can’t help but to huff out an eager breath in recognition. “You put pain down, baby. Let’s see how much you like it.”
The crop is raised high above him, and Taehyung tenses, but with a quiet laugh Jimin only lowers it to his chest. He traces it down to Taehyung’s stomach, the feeling of the leather so light across his skin.
“Do you know what this is?” Jimin asks, tapping the crop lightly on his stomach. Taehyung tenses again, Jimin’s eyes crinkling to see the movement of his abdomen.
“A riding crop,” he answers, and his voice is a little breathy but Taehyung can’t bring himself to care, starry eyed.
“Good boy.” Jimin gives his stomach another light tap, and Taehyung sighs out before he can help it. “You remember the talk we had about marks?”
It’d been disappointing. At the top of Taehyung’s list he’d put how much he likes the idea of being marked up, bruising left to see the next day, but Jimin had asked him how it would work with his shoots, and Taehyung’s hopes had been dashed remembering he needs to keep his skin clear. Still he nods.
“I don’t know how easy you mark up yet, so I’m going to take things nice and light,” Jimin tells him. The crop begins to slide back up his stomach and toward his chest, and Jimin splays the end flat under Taehyung's chin, tipping his head up. When he swallows Taehyung’s throat bobs against the leather, and he feels his breath quicken at the position. “I want you to count for me. Can you do that, baby?”
“Yes,” Taehyung promises, voice shaking. “I can do that.”
When the crop comes down, it moves fast. Jimin keeps true to his word about keeping the hits light, because the sound hits him before the sense of impact, but Taehyung still tenses up, jumping a little at the blow to his stomach.
Jimin arches an eyebrow, and Taehyung remembers, quickly saying, “One.”
The next hit’s harder, and the one after that even more so. Jimin rarely hits the same spot twice, only circling back once he’s exhausted every inch of skin. Taehyung stammers back each count faithfully, Jimin soothing the crop against the slight sting of his skin and nodding after each one before raising it again. His favorite spots seem to be Taehyung’s stomach and thighs, especially snapping it down on the inside of his legs, urging him to spread them farther apart.
There’s a pleasant haze starting to settle over his mind, something Taehyung can’t quite find the words to describe. Somehow he feels secure, so glad to be laid out under Jimin’s careful gaze, skin beginning to redden with a pleasant sting. The sensation’s good, enjoyable, leaves him feeling sensitive and dazed until all that’s left is anticipating each hit and babbling back the count to Jimin.
Taehyung’s hardening almost embarrassingly quickly, but Jimin doesn’t draw attention to it until Taehyung counts past fifty. Jimin switches the crop to his off hand, running a soothing hand up Taehyung’s stomach and chest, watching carefully as Taehyung shivers under the touch. When his breath evens out Jimin runs the crop back down, this time slipping lower on his front until he’s pressing the end flat—Taehyung lifts his head to look, face flaming in embarrassment. Jimin just grins at him knowingly, rubbing the crop into the wet spot of Taehyung’s briefs until he's squirming.
“Let’s get these off you, yeah?” Jimin asks, tapping lightly. A groan slips out past Taehyung’s lips before he can help it, hips twitching in instinctual fear waiting for Jimin to bring the crop down again. “Would you like that?”
“Please,” Taehyung mumbles, biting his lip. Jimin leans up over him, presenting the crop in his hand to him.
“Open your mouth,” Jimin says. “Hold this for me.”
When Taehyung opens his mouth Jimin places the crop between his jaws, patting his cheek when Taehyung closes his teeth around it delicately. He looks at Taehyung once more for approval, and when Taehyung nods Jimin tugs down on the hem of his briefs. Jimin handles him expertly, sliding a helping hand underneath Taehyung to raise his hips, and rearranging his legs to slip the briefs off. It should be demeaning, but there’s only a warmth in his stomach and a glow in his heart to be taken care of, unable to help himself.
Jimin splays his hands on Taehyung’s thighs, then, looking at him. Taehyung blinks up at him, and shifts his hips nervously. He watches as Jimin’s eyes drop, and can see him bite his lip in a smile.
“You’ve got such a pretty dick, baby,” he says, and Taehyung can’t help but whimper when Jimin touches his fingers to him, curling his hand gently around his cock. Jimin chuckles. “Look at you. So nice and big. You were made for this.”
Taehyung’s not sure his face can get any hotter. “Thank you,” he manages around the crop, words a little muffled.
“We’re going to play a game,” Jimin says, fingers soothing over his skin lightly. “If you follow the rules, and play well, I’ll reward you. Does that sound good?”
Taehyung nods, mouth dry.
“What I’m going to do,” Jimin continues, “Is trace your favorite words out. Nothing permanent—with my finger, on your stomach. If you pay close attention, you should be able to guess the word.” Taehyung listens, rapt, and Jimin looks fond. “I’ll reward you when you get each word right, and we might even find out the things you like most along the way. Are you ready to play?”
Taehyung’s not sure what Jimin means by finding out what he likes, but it only piques his interest. He nods eagerly.
“Let’s get started, then,” Jimin says, and slides his hand up Taehyung’s stomach. Taehyung’s eyes fall automatically, and Jimin tuts. “Ah-ah,” he clicks his tongue. “Eyes up on me, or close them if you can’t help. I’ll punish you if you cheat. But I know you’re good.”
So Taehyung fixes his eyes on Jimin’s, Jimin looking instead down at his chest. Admires him, the curve of his brow and twist of his lips in concentration. Then Jimin starts tracing, and he has to focus; ends up tilting his head back, closing his eyes to think. Jimin traces once, twice, Taehyung following the feeling in his mind, and then he understands, reddening.
“Baby?” he guesses, keeping his eyes squeezed shut, swallowing back spit from keeping his mouth open around the handle of the crop. Jimin pats his stomach.
“Good boy,” he says, and Taehyung shivers, working his jaw. “That one was nice and easy, right? We know you like that one. My baby.”
“Your baby,” Taehyung mumbles back and then flushes with humiliation. But when he opens his eyes, Jimin’s practically cooing at him.
“That’s right. Are you ready for your reward, pretty baby?”
Taehyung swallows again and nods, craving. From beside him Jimin reaches and holds up a bottle of lube, waving it at him before uncapping and squeezing some out into his palm. He coats Taehyung with a practiced twist of his hand.
“Nice and wet for later. Say thank you,” Jimin admonishes, and Taehyung stutters the words out as best he can. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Get ready, now. Next word.”
With his free hand Jimin returns to Taehyung’s stomach, humming a little as he circles the characters. Taehyung’s eyes snap back up to the ceiling as he thinks, and he’s faster to recognize this one, but hesitates, embarrassed before mumbling it out.
“Speak clearly, baby,” Jimin says, almost giggling. “I can’t understand you. One more time?”
With a low whine Taehyung pants softly, working his lips around the crop, straining his tongue to enunciate.
“D...Doll,” he slurs out, but it must be good enough because Jimin nods.
“And how do you like that one, hm?”
Taehyung thinks a moment, but there’s no disguising the way his stomach flips. “Like it,” he says through his teeth, swallowing spit. “I like it.”
“You like that one, huh?” Jimin asks, repeating the characters, this time with a light drag of his nail. “Like the thought of being my doll, all pretty and pliant? My little toy for me to keep and take care of?”
"I like it,” Taehyung repeats shamefully.
“Okay, babydoll. I’ll remember that one.’ Jimin hums. “Your reward.”
Jimin slows the stroke of his hand before squeezing lightly and removing it, instead tracing downwards. Taehyung’s breath catches, and only heightens when Jimin runs a finger over him before circling and working it into him slowly, watching his face. A faint noise slips past Taehyung’s lips before he can help it. It’s not much, not at all, really, but the buzz of earning a reward combined with Jimin’s caring smile is breaking him down like nothing else could.
“Thank you,” Taehyung remembers faintly, feeling dizzy.
“You’re welcome. Pay attention, now. Next word.”
Jimin traces the characters maddeningly slowly. Taehyung dares a glance at him, and makes a wordless noise to see Jimin looking back at him, up under hooded eyes. The word, when Taehyung realizes it, almost ruins him, breath beginning to stutter.
“Pet,” Taehyung nearly mewls, and can’t handle the sound, already so desperate. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jimin.
“Oh, you like that one?” Taehyung nods, squeezing his eyes shut. “Wanna be my pet, want me to keep you and train you? You could wear a collar, and I could keep you on a leash, tug it for fun. Is that what gets you hot?” Taehyung feels his cock twitch in interest, face burning, and Jimin laughs at him. “Oh, that does, huh? I’ll remember that one, too, pet.”
Jimin works a second finger into him beside the first, beginning to thrust shallowly. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re so fun to play with, so good for me. You ready for the last word?”
Taehyung’s barely begun nodding before Jimin’s working on tracing the word, tracing his nail lightly. Desensitized, it takes a few extra rotations before Taehyung realizes what Jimin’s spelling, and when he does, his stomach jolts.
He has to collect himself a moment before managing, eyes closed: “S-Slut?”
The tracing stills, and instead Jimin thumbs at Taehyung’s hipbone, other hand stilling.
“And how do you like that one?” he asks. His voice is gentle, and Taehyung opens his eyes, locking onto Jimin’s gaze. “You win the game, pretty. No matter what your answer is.”
Jimin’s looking at him carefully, likely watching for any negative reaction. But Taehyung had put humiliation and pet names on his list for a reason, even if he’d never thought about this one before. He thinks, cautious, weighs his own mind and realizes his answer—there’s no denying how good it feels, especially held so close by Jimin. Taehyung nods.
“I like it,” his voice is small. He pokes his tongue out, playing a moment with the handle of the crop, and Jimin’s eyes fall to the motion. “I—I like that one, too.”
Jimin watches him another moment, and then presses back up into him with his fingers, a third one added this time. A slow smile spreads across his face.
“You like that one too, huh?” Jimin muses, tilting his head. “Gonna let me wreck you, get you all wet and needy?” He laughs when Taehyung’s hips buck, and works his fingers farther into him, spreading the lube. “Shit, baby, you’re so hard already. Ready to move on, huh?” Jimin doesn’t wait for an answer, just works his fingers out of Taehyung, who whines at the loss. Jimin wipes his hand on Taehyung’s stomach, smearing the lube. “You played the game so nicely. I think you deserve a reward, a proper one.”
Jimin reaches up, motioning at the crop. Taehyung parts his lips obediently, licking them when Jimin takes the crop back and places it beside him. Instead he holds up what Taehyung recognizes to be two vibrators, matte black and slender in Jimin’s fingers, one a bullet.
“I’ve got you nice and wet, I think,” Jimin says. Taehyung watches him peel open a condom and snap them on over the vibrators, tying the ends for a tight finish. “Have you used a vibrator before?”
Taehyung pauses, before nodding, a little embarrassed. One side of Jimin’s mouth twists up. “Yeah? What do you think about when you get off?”
“U-Um—” Taehyung closes his eyes tightly and opens them again, setting his legs up farther on the bed until the back of his ankles are closer to the backs of his thighs. It’s a distraction, he knows, but it’s so hard to focus as Jimin works on sliding the larger vibrator into him, inch by inch. Jimin stops when he hasn’t responded, looking up at him expectantly, and only continues when Taehyung does. “I—About being dommed. Like this.”
“Yeah?” Jimin asks absently, pressing the vibrator all the way into Taehyung and snickering at the way his breath peters out. “Wanted someone to put you in your place, Gucci boy? Make you feel good, just like this?”
“Mm, mhm,” Taehyung nods, words twisting into a soft cry to hear a click as Jimin presses something beside his leg, the vibrator buzzing to life inside him. Jimin works it in and out of him slowly, til he’s pressing right up against a spot that makes Taehyung’s toes curl. He leans back, satisfied, and picks up the second vibrator.
“You told me you were sensitive,” Jimin says, and clicks the bullet to life in his hand. Taehyung pants weakly, watching Jimin’s hand with wide eyes as he lowers it slowly. “Let’s find out.”
Taehyung’s only able to finally look away because he’s tossing his head back. Jimin presses the vibrator right to the head of his cock, toying him, eyes fixed on his task like it’s nothing to him. The detachment makes it so much worse, and Taehyung can’t help working his hips up when Jimin runs the bullet down the length maddeningly before coming back up to press it against his slit.
“Oh, god, I—” Taehyung jerks when Jimin takes his hand away to slap at Taehyung’s thigh, and he freezes, unsure of his mistake, until Jimin says—
“Keep your hands above your head,” in a warning tone, and Taehyung realizes he’d tugged his arms down, mindless with the pleasure. He throws them back instantly, chest heaving, babbles—
“Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Jimin says, and the shame drains away to be replaced with gratitude that Jimin no longer sounds disappointed. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
And it’s a complaint Taehyung would never have thought he’d have, but Jimin is almost too good at what he does, never staying in one place for too long, working both vibrators on him. It’s almost impossible to keep track of time, but he works him up and down simultaneously; body so agitated, and mind sinking so low.
Taehyung can’t help but writhe when Jimin turns both settings up, and on accident, he kicks his knee into Jimin’s side. Instantly Taehyung freezes, looking at Jimin with his eyes wide. Jimin’s hands still, and he purses his lips a moment, then softens, asking:
“You didn’t mean to do that, did you?”
“No, no, I—I’m sorry,” Taehyung shakes his head frantically, his teeth chattering. Jimin nods.
“I didn’t think so. You’re a good boy. Wanna make it up to me?”
This time, Taehyung nods, shuddering when Jimin pushes a finger on the vibrator inside him, right up against his prostate.
“Use your words.”
“Y—a-ah, yes,” Taehyung whimpers out, mind hazy, wanting so badly to circle his hips up against the pressure again but uncertain since his mistake. “Wanna make it up to you.”
Jimin bites on his lip to hide a smile. “Mm, then there’s something I’ve wanted. Do you remember?” Taehyung hesitates, unsure, so Jimin continues. “Bring that back here, Gucci boy.”
Taehyung can’t help but whine a little when Jimin sets the bullet vibrator down on the bed, but he’s distracted as Jimin hooks his arm under Taehyung’s leg, lifting it back to him and up on his shoulder. Taehyung can’t help a soft gasp slipping out of him at the change in position, feeling so handled and full, vibrations still buzzing in his teeth and Jimin smirking at him beside his leg. It looks so good Taehyung can’t help it, and he remembers their phone call.
Jimin kisses the inside of his knee like a devotional, pressing his lips to hot skin and moving downward. He watches Taehyung as he does it, keeps eye contact, the look in his eyes obvious that he can tell how much Taehyung is affected. There’s a tug of heat in his stomach when Jimin bites into the inside of his thigh so gently, grazing his teeth over flushed skin and Taehyung can’t help but whimper.
“Don’t worry,” Jimin murmurs into his thigh, kisses the area. His lips are divine, and Taehyung’s shaking, leg starting to ache as Jimin worships like he’d promised. “No marks. But I’ve been dreaming about this.”
“You—You have?” Taehyung manages, breathy. Jimin nuzzles against his thigh with another kiss.
“Ever since you sent me that picture, that first day. You really didn’t expect that?” Taehyung blinks and shakes his head, arching just a little when Jimin gives his thigh another soft nip. “Hm, not sure I believe you. Thought you were such a tease, sending a picture like that. I wanted to dom you so bad.”
“Oh,” Taehyung moans, and with a final nuzzle Jimin sets his leg back down, picking up the vibrator on the bed and returning to work. Desperately, double stimulation making his head fuzzy, he asks, “Am I—Am I doing good?”
“So good,” Jimin praises, almost a purr, circling the bullet. “So good for me. Making me so happy, pretty baby. You feel good?”
“Yes,” Taehyung gasps, motion of his hips resuming. “Please, I—”
Jimin presses the vibrator to him harder, laughing at Taehyung’s words cutting off into a moan. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Please,” Taehyung begs, clenching around the vibrator and working his hips upward. “M’gonna—ah, I—I’m gonna come—”
“Oh, are you?” Jimin asks, quirking an eyebrow. His voice takes on a teasing quality, and he looks so unaffected it just makes Taehyung feel even more of a mess. “You gonna ask me first?”
“Yes, please, I—” Taehyung breathes so rapid and gulps, stomach on fire. “Please, may I—may I come?”
“Not just yet,” Jimin says, and Taehyung’s eyes widen before squeezing shut, tossing his head back. “Hold it until I tell you.”
“I—I can’t—” Taehyung pleads, hot with shame. He’s sure his lip’s swollen by now, he’s digging his teeth in so hard. “I don’t think I can, please, please—?”
Jimin considers it a moment, cocking his head.
“I’m going to count down from ten,” he says finally. “When I reach one, you can come. Do you understand, pet?”
“Yes, yes, I—” Taehyung dissolves into a moan when Jimin circles the vibrator once more, beginning to run it in a pattern. Jimin pinches at his thigh, Taehyung hissing at the sting.
“I understand,” Taehyung whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. There’s the beginning of tears there; he’s always such a mess come undone, and everything’s been too much for too long. “I understand, I understand.”
“Ten,” Jimin says, and Taehyung nearly wails with relief. “Nine. Eight,” and then he does something so wicked. Jimin leaves the vibrator to hum away inside him and instead introduces his hand into the mix, stroking Taehyung’s cock as both vibrators continue to buzz away maddeningly.
“Seven,” Jimin continues over Taehyung’s renewed cries. “Six. Almost there, baby,” and Taehyung knows then, realizes even as Jimin says “Five,” that he’s not going to make it. In the moment before breaking everything is perfectly clear. He’s too close, pressure building in his stomach too quickly, and the pleasure’s too great.
“Four,” Jimin says, and Taehyung jerks despite himself. Jimin’s barely on the first syllable of three when the orgasm hits proper, and Taehyung sees Jimin’s eyes widen before he closes his own, arching up into Jimin’s hand and clenching and crying out all at once, pleasure coursing through him, and god, it’s one of the best he’s ever had.
The enjoyment ebbs quickly, though, because when he opens his eyes, trembling with aftershocks, Jimin’s expression makes a chill go through him. It’s obvious in an instant, his expression cold.
“You were so close,” he says finally. Nothing more, and gone are the pet names and playful smiles.
“I—I couldn’t.” Taehyung whispers, embarrassment coursing through him at the disappointment on Jimin’s face. The tears start up again, renewed and hot on his lashes.
“Couldn’t what?” Jimin says, hitting both switches. The vibrators still, and Taehyung shifts his hips pathetically, keening low at the loss. Jimin’s lip curls. “Couldn’t hold back?”
Taehyung nods, shamefully. It stings when he blinks.
“Ungrateful.” Jimin sets the bullet on Taehyung’s stomach, shaking his head, and Taehyung nearly sobs, head spinning with the disgust on Jimin's face. “Went and got my hands all dirty for you, doing you a favor, and you come without permission?”
“I—” Taehyung feels the first tears slip down his cheeks, tracks burning. “I’m so sorry.”
Jimin narrows his eyes, but then his face smooths, and he leans in, over Taehyung. Taehyung stills, Jimin’s mouth beside his ear.
“Give me a color,” he murmurs.
Taehyung closes his eyes, remembering, and whispers back. “Green.”
Jimin sits back up, expression returning. His eyes drop to Taehyung, and he clicks his tongue. “Made such a goddamn mess,” he taunts. Taehyung inhales when Jimin runs his hand over him, collecting some of his own come off his stomach and shoving his hand in Taehyung’s face. “Clean it up.”
Taehyung’s breath shudders out, and he darts his tongue out obediently, lapping his tongue at Jimin’s hand. Jimin watches him, bored, and Taehyung shrinks under his gaze, but it’s grounding, almost. He mouths at Jimin’s hand, lip trembling, their eyes locked, doing everything he can to plead with his eyes. Finally Jimin pulls his hand back.
“What am I going to do with you, huh?” Jimin sighs. Taehyung swallows, and whines a little under his breath, something wordless, a kicked puppy. “What’s that? You wanna make it up to me?”
Taehyung nods desperately, seizing at the chance, blinking away the tears still blurring his vision.
“Tell you what,” Jimin says, reaching his hand down between his legs again. “Since you seem to want to come so bad, let’s go ahead and make you again, hm? And then again. And then maybe again, slut. Prove to me that you can follow orders this time. How does that sound?”
“It’s—” Taehyung swallows, and blushes to realize he’s already rehardening, interest swirling in him. “I can do that.”
“Maybe your stamina will get a little better,” Jimin taunts. “You hold back until I tell you this time, do you understand? Or I’ll really punish you then.”
Taehyung nods again, and he knows Jimin expects an answer, but it’s a struggle to find the words again as Jimin clicks both vibrators back on. A ragged groan sounds out of his throat, even more sensitive than before, and Jimin’s smile returns when he picks up the bullet vibrator, this time cruel.
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
Taehyung really only comes to when Jimin prompts him.
It takes a minute or so to start thinking again, body aching. Taehyung takes stock diligently, focusing on the physical sensations before working at his mind. He’s licking at his lips, can feel drool drying on the sides of his mouth and where it’s ran down his cheeks. His body aches pleasantly, and Jimin’s hovering over him, hand stroking his hair, smiling so gently.
Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. He’d made him come twice more, until everything was a blur of pleasure bordering on the pain of overstimulation. Had played with him after, too, ran his hands all over Taehyung and let him suck on his fingers and spoken to him so softly. Taehyung can’t quite remember it, now, but what matters is Jimin’s asking him a question, and Jimin is everything.
“Can I see your hands, baby?” Jimin asks again. Taehyung had whined when he’d leaned away, searching the floor for the shears where they’d fallen. Taehyung holds his arms out for Jimin loyally, and Jimin cuts the ties with ease, tossing the rope and shears back down to the floor. He takes Taehyung’s hands in his, inspecting his wrists while rubbing light circles into the skin and kissing each knuckle. Taehyung hums happily.
“I’ll be right back,” Jimin promises, and Taehyung shivers, closing his eyes. He’s saddened when the bed dips, but Jimin’s true to his word, and returns from the bathroom a minute or so later. Taehyung feels his return before Jimin even sits back down, because Jimin’s running a warm washcloth over him lightly, hushing him.
“How are you feeling?” Jimin asks. Taehyung blinks at him, so sleepy.
“Good,” he answers honestly when he finds the word, his grin lazy. “I feel...really good. Light.”
“Light, huh?” Jimin asks, smiling fond. “I’ve got water for you, and the blanket. Can you drink some for me, while I cover you up?”
Taehyung nods, and Jimin hands him water from the bedside, kissing Taehyung’s hair. The fog’s fading away, and with it he’s remembering the promise of afterwards they’d discussed: a movie from the hotel’s pay per view, room service, and cuddling. He sighs happily just thinking of it.
Jimin’s tugging the covers back up over Taehyung, and slides into bed beside him before wrapping an arm around him. He presses another sweet kiss into Taehyung’s hair, and it makes him want, and remember another promise, as his mind clears.
“Can you kiss me?”
Jimin barely bats an eye, fluffing a pillow out for Taehyung before turning to him. “Just did, cutie.”
Taehyung reddens. “I mean—”
“Mm, I know. I’m teasing you. You remember, huh?” he smiles. “Yeah, I’ll kiss you. And then we can call room service, and I’ll kiss you again. How does that sound?”
Feeling needy but so soft, so safe, Taehyung answers by reaching out for Jimin with spread hands. It’s so wanting, but Jimin just chuckles, leaning in.
It’s not the promised bite, but something softer. Even in a kiss Jimin takes easy control, Taehyung practically melting even more in his current state. He makes a noise of complaint when Jimin pulls back, pressing the TV remote into his hands.
“Did you have fun tonight?” Jimin asks, still close enough to let breath flutter out across his lips. Taehyung nods immediately.
“So much,” he sighs, and Jimin reaches to mess with his hair, and giggles when he leans in for another kiss, acquiescing. Jimin presses his forehead to his affectionately before breaking the kiss.
“So you think you’ll want to meet again?” Jimin asks, casually, but eyes intense. Taehyung doesn’t even have to wonder about the answer.
“Definitely. And I think,” he begins, a little shy. “I might even want—the second option. You know. Like...the relationship.” Jimin blinks at him, and a little anxious, Taehyung rambles. “If it’s still open, of course. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, too, I—”
Like some kind of cliché, Jimin silences him with another perfect kiss.
“Taehyung,” he says, and Taehyung feels his lips stretch into a grin, giddy. “I think I’d like nothing more.”