“You’ve got such pretty lips, hyung.”
Seokjin doesn’t dare look up, knowing he’d just come face to face with Jungkook’s smug stare. Shame already bubbles deep in the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill over and leave him a shaking, whining mess. He always has to put up a fight, never willing to easily give in to Jungkook’s wants. He knew that he only prolonged his own torture, but it felt wrong somehow to just give in.
Jungkook’s grip in his hair was harsh, not letting him up from where he had his lips spread wide around the younger’s cock. He’d been held there for the last few minutes, hands tied behind his back with the tie Jungkook had been wearing earlier. His ankles were wound up with his own tie, keeping him immobilized. Jungkook had tied him up when he kept digging his nails into the younger’s thighs, leaving red, burning welts in thin lines along the tan flesh. It was his punishment for being a brat.
It hadn’t taken long after they’d left the event and arrived home for Jungkook to push him into the bedroom, eyes blazing with an anger that was reserved only for him when he’d been intentionally bad, pushing Jungkook past his limit.
Seokjin knew how important the gala had been to Jungkook, how long and hard he’d worked to make everything perfect. Millions of dollars were on the line, and Jungkook had told him to behave.
Even with as long as Jungkook had been trying to train him, Seokjin still hated to listen.
Seokjin had waited until the right moment when Jungkook finally had a moment alone to pull the younger man to the bathroom under the guise he needed help with some mundane task. Once he’d determined the bathroom was empty, he’d locked the door and pushed Jungkook against the wall, telling him in a low tone to watch.
Jungkook had, wide eyed with his lips parted, as Seokjin leaned over the counter, hooking his thumbs under the hem of his dress pants to pull them down, just far enough that Jungkook could see the lace, baby blue panties stretched over his ass. The material was sheer enough that Seokjin knew Jungkook could see the jewel on the handle of the buttplug he wore.
Before Jungkook had even been allowed to step forward and touch, Seokjin pulled his pants back up, turning to Jungkook with a bright smile. He could see the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants, and had pressed his palm against it, grinding down.
“Seokjin.” Jungkook said, his voice shaking, but tone of warning evident.
“I’m so bored.” Seokjin said, sighing as he pulled his hand away. He’d taken Jungkook’s moment of confusion to slip out of the bathroom and back into the crowd.
“Why can’t you ever listen, baby?” Jungkook muses, pushing Seokjin further down his cock. He doesn’t let him move, instead keeping him still.
Seokjin can feel his jaw start to ache, his throat sore. But this is his punishment. They’d talked about it before, having Jungkook push Seokjin down on his cock and stay still, using him as a sleeve. It hurts, and Seokjin hates it. But he supposes that’s the point, knowing that he could easily find a way to let Jungkook know if he was truly uncomfortable.
“Don’t you want to be good for me?” Jungkook asks, pressing the heel of his dress shoe against Seokjin’s cock.
Seokjin is still wearing the panties, but only that. The thin layer of soft lace isn’t enough to stop the burning pressure from Jungkook’s heel. He squirms, almost choking himself further on the cock in his throat. It fucking hurts, his entire body aches, but that’s what he wanted. He wanted to be punished, to be put in his place. To be broken down to his barest core.
Jungkook grinds his foot down, and Seokjin almost comes. Almost. He’s so wound up, his cock purple where it’s pressed to his stomach from the hem of the panties. It’s his own fault. He hasn’t been allowed to come almost all week, doing this or that to piss Jungkook off. He doesn’t do this often, doesn’t go so far to push Jungkook past his breaking point, but the past month has been hell, and he needs to release the tension somehow.
He knows it’ll be worth it in the end, when he finally is allowed to come.
“I take such good care of you.” Jungkook clicks his tongue, pressing his foot down harder. “Don’t I? Tell me I take good care of you.”
Seokjin hates this, hates when Jungkook asks him to speak when he can’t. It’s humiliating.
The pressure on his cock increases.
“Tell me.” Jungkook says.
All Seokjin can do is gurgle around his cock, drool bubbling from the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin.
Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t understand you. You’re gonna have to speak up. Or are you that useless?”
It’s hard not to start crying, but Seokjin can’t help it. He sobs, squeezing his eyes shut as hot tears start to fall down his cheeks. He’s so close to coming, so deep in the humiliation that he can’t hold it back. He starts to openly grind against Jungkook’s foot, not even noticing when Jungkook lets him. It doesn’t take much longer, cum spurting from his cock and staining the expensive lace, some even getting on Jungkook’s shoe. It’s not what he wanted, not how he wanted to come.
Jungkook sighs, and Seokjin falls deeper. He’s disappointed him. Making Jungkook angry is one thing, something that he enjoys, but he hates disappointing him. Hates it so much. He knows he’s bad, knows he could be better, knows that Jungkook deserves better-
“Make me come.” Jungkook says, lip curled with disgust. “And then you’re going to go another week without being able to come. I think that’s fair. What do you think?”
Seokjin doesn’t dare to not respond, doing his best to nod around a mouthful of cock. His chest aches when Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t waste time, swallowing Jungkook down to the base once the grip on his hair is gone. He swallows, pulls back, moaning when he feels precum drip along his tongue. It only takes a few more seconds before Jungkook comes in long spurts, coating Seokjin’s tongue. He doesn’t swallow.
“Show me.” Jungkook says, and Seokjin sticks out his tongue. Some of the cum drips down his chin, splatters down to his thighs.
Jungkook presses his thumb down on Seokjin’s tongue, pushes two fingers down his throat, then wipes the spit and cum off on his cheek. Seokjin swallows the rest, weakly moaning at the taste, at the feeling of it running down his throat.
Seokjin wants to apologize, but he hasn’t been given permission to speak yet.
“Apologize. Tell me you’re sorry for being a disgusting whore.”
He almost can’t get it out, his throat raw and closed up. But he has to, has to say something. “I – I’m sorry. For being a disgusting whore.”
“Good.” Jungkook says, and then he continues with, “Maybe next time you can be a good boy.”
Seokjin makes no promises.