Chapter Text
The pendulum of the grandfather clock swings back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“What is your goal in using these services?” a pleasant voice asks. The person asking is pleasant too. Weirdly soft, friendly, nothing like one would imagine. Nothing like Yoongi had imagined.
“I just want to stop thinking.”
Empty brain, that’s the ideal. No more thoughts. No anxiety. Purely feeling, and feeling good.
He watches this pleasant person twirl a pen in his fingers, before a contract is pushed toward him. Terms and conditions. Sign to agree.
The forms are long and detailed. He fills them to the best of his ability, asking questions rarely. He’s done his homework. He wants this.
“We’re not gonna have a session today, I still have to look over your information and create a session plan based on your needs. Same time next week?”
Yoongi nods dumbly. He should’ve seen this coming, so how didn’t he? He’s waved out of the homely office frustrated. His head is buzzing with thoughts, worries. There’s never a quiet moment these days, or has there ever been one? He doesn’t think so. If only he could stop thinking.
The next time he steps into the office, despite the same homely decor, the ambiance is completely different.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” Seokjin says back, standing up from his chair behind the desk. “Please, take a seat.”
He follows the instructions; his eyes follow Seokjin. The low-back armchair is plush, and he feels himself sink into it, just like last time. The man circles the desk leisurely, stopping to stand behind Yoongi.
“I think it would be good for us to take the time today and get to know each other.” Seokjin’s fingers trail up his cheek. “What do you say?”
Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s a test. But he wants this, he wants it now. He’s been waiting, he’s been craving it for so long.
“Yes, sir.”
Seokjin lets out a short little chuckle. His voice drops a little deeper. “Good boy.”
Yoongi bites his lower lip. The hand trails up to his hair, petting it gently, and without even meaning to Yoongi leans into it. Seokjin’s other hand places itself on Yoongi’s shoulder, trailing up and towards his front over his throat. Yoongi swallows as he imagines that hand pressing down. Fingers would curl into his flesh, and he could do nothing to stop it. He would do nothing. Purple bruising decorating his pale skin the next day, his throat tender and voice raspy. He has to swallow again as the hand keeps stroking over his adam’s apple.
“Aren’t you responsive,” Seokjin whispers behind him, leaning closer to Yoongi until he can feel him pressed against his back. He feels hot and his clothes are too much. And though he’s on his way to stop thinking, he hasn’t, not completely. There’s still thoughts flying through his head, worries, concerns. What if he fucks up? What if Seokjin won’t like him? What if, what if.
The top button of his shirt pops open. He chose the shirt because he wanted to look presentable. He’s still overthinking if he should’ve gone with a different colour instead. His head is pressed against Seokjin’s abdomen, and he feels the rumble of his hum against his skull. It’s nice. The vibrations scatter the thoughts deeper, away from the surface of his mind. A thumb caresses the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, and he reflexively opens up. Seokjin doesn’t push in, just caresses the edge, dragging his lip down.
“Open your eyes.”
When had Yoongi closed his eyes? He doesn’t remember. His lids are heavy and he struggles to open them, staring up at Seokjin’s upside-down face.
“Hi beautiful,” Seokjin whispers to him, still playing with his lower lip. Yoongi blinks. Seokjin’s the one who is beautiful, his hair cradling his down-turned face. “You must be feeling so tired.”
Yoongi sags in his chair at the notion, a small whine coming up from the depths of his throat. He is tired. He’s tired of thinking, of worrying, of everything. Seokjin pets his chest.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” Seokjin smiles, removing his thumb from his lips before he leans down for a small kiss, a peck really, on Yoongi’s slack lips. “I’ll take care of you real good.”
Seokjin pats his shoulder a little hard, almost like trying to wake him up from his stupor. Yoongi jerks at that, eyes blinking harder. Seokjin walks away from behind him, motioning him to follow to another room from his office. It takes a minute for Yoongi to gather himself, but he’s soon following after Seokjin, feet shuffling against the soft carpet that is covering the floor. It must be a bitch to clean, but it feels so fucking nice.
Seokjin situates himself on a backless sofa, the type Yoongi has seen before in fitting rooms and receptions, except this one is much bigger and made of what looks like a much more pleasant material. Seokjin is patting the space next to him, and Yoongi hesitates for a moment before he goes and sits down.
“I saw that you ticked quite a lot of boxes, but I would like to start a little more… softer, if you don’t mind,” Seokjin says as he turns to fiddle with the buttons of Yoongi’s shirt again. Yoongi shakes his head.
“No… I’d like that.” The words come out more muttered than said, and Seokjin smiles.
“I’m glad to hear that. Now I was thinking if we could go through some of the more basic things of getting to know each other. Would you mind telling me, are there any spots you’re particularly sensitive about?”
Yoongi frowns.
“Like… What makes me feel good?”
“Yeah. What makes you feel good.”
“I guess,” Yoongi racked his brain. “My scalp is kinda sensitive? My thighs… And… Here?”
He places a hand right in the area where his back changes into buttocks.
“Your lower back?”
“No, here.” Yoongi is too caught up in his frustration of not finding the words, that he simply grabs one of Seokjin’s hands and places it where he is talking about. Seokjin raises his eyebrows at the sudden burst of energy, and tries to calm Yoongi down by gently petting the area.
“Here is where it feels good?”
Yoongi’s brain finally catches up to his actions, and his breath hitches as Seokjin’s thumb presses down a little firmer into his flesh. He bites his lip and nods. Seokjin smiles, placing his free hand on Yoongi’s cheek to lift his face up. Their foreheads touch, and he keeps breathing through his mouth so soft puffs of air caress Yoongi’s face. He stares into Yoongi’s eyes, eyes that dart all over his face, from his mouth, to his eyes, to his nose, to his eyebrows, to his mouth again. Seokjin slides his hand lower from Yoongi’s lower back to under his ass, and lifts him up to bring him closer. Yoongi’s hands find their way to Seokjin’s shoulders, and Seokjin cannot help but preen at the fact that Yoongi has touched him twice already. He lifts Yoongi into his lap, really liking the way Yoongi leans into him until their chests touch, the way Yoongi’s eyes dart toward his mouth, and the way Yoongi licks his own lips.
Seokjin smiles.
Yoongi’s hand curls into Seokjin’s shirt when he feels Seokjin nosing his cheek. He opens his mouth to lick lips again, and a hot puff of air hits his mouth. He can taste Seokjin’s breath on his tongue, and he wants to… He wants to…
He wants to…
“What do you want, pretty?”
He wants to…
“Gotta use your words, or I won’t know.”
“Taste…”
“You want to taste?”
Yoongi’s hands relax before the curl into Seokjin’s shirt again.
“Mmhmm.”
Seokjin’s hand spreads over his ass, thumb caressing over the top. Yoongi doesn’t even notice how he grinds up to it a little, too enraptured by the next breath that wafts into his mouth. A faraway voice tells him that Seokjin is teasing him, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to…
“Then go ahead. I’m not stopping you, darling.”
Yoongi paws at the shirt underneath his fingers, feels the soft muscles underneath. He licks his lips, blinking slowly as he watches the pink lips curled into a smile come closer. No, he’s the one moving closer. Seokjin’s thumb gives his ass another swipe, making Yoongi sigh before pressing his lips on the lips before him. It’s nice, but it’s not what he wants.
He opens his mouth, tongue swiping Seokjin’s lips. Seokjin doesn’t tease him anymore, just lets Yoongi’s tongue poke into his mouth, slide over the surfaces at his own pace.
It’s soft. And very slick. Yoongi likes the way his tongue slides against the tip of Seokjin’s tongue, coaxing it to play with him. Seokjin’s breath had smelled good, fresh and clean, and Yoongi is pleasantly surprised the taste of his mouth is equally clean. No stinging mint taste of toothpaste, no food residue, just warm saliva gathering in Seokjin’s tongue and-
Seokjin tips Yoongi’s head back, keeping the mouths firmly locked together. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open when he feels the saliva that had pooled in Seokjin’s mouth trickle into his mouth. His hands spasm, and a weak moan gets swallowed as he himself swallows. He shouldn’t be finding this as hot as he does.
Yoongi sucks on Seokjin’s tongue, then his plump lower lip. Eventually Seokjin forces them apart, leaving Yoongi panting, wishing he had something in his mouth. He chews on his lip instead; Seokjin coos at the sight.
“Can you stand up for me, sweetie?”
Yoongi doesn’t want to leave his position on Seokjin’s lap, but he nods anyway. Seokjin’s hands trail his sides, while the man just stares at him with a soft smile. Yoongi stares off a little to the side, hands twisting into his shirt. It feels a little uncomfortable being observed so blatantly and so close. Especially with his dick half-hard. God, he hadn’t even noticed before.
“Take off your trousers. Underwear too.”
Instead of drawing out the embarrassment, Yoongi quickly unbuttons his trousers, grips them and his underwear and pulls them down. It takes less than two seconds to do a quick step out and kick them somewhere behind him.
He’s still refusing to look anywhere near Seokjin’s face, instead opting to stare at the hands creeping up his thighs to the edge of his shirt, lifting the hem just a little. Seokjin takes his time inspecting, though Yoongi can hear the approving tone in his hums.
“You’re very well groomed,” Seokjin comments, thumb rubbing into the skin where his thigh meets his crotch.
“I prefer it that way.”
“Great. Me too.” The three simple words send a warm tingle down Yoongi’s spine, as if he had been complimented. He likes that their tastes are in harmony. He likes the feeling of belonging.
Seokjin’s hands haven’t strayed to touch his cock, so he doesn’t expect to feel a hand cup him between his legs. He jolts, breath hitching in his throat. His hands are half-raised, unsure where to be.
Seokjin’s free hand guides one back to his shoulders, and Yoongi obliges gladly, appreciating the sense of stability he gains from pressing his fingers into them.
Seokjin rolls his balls in his hand, gently, just seeing how Yoongi will react. Yoongi doesn’t fight the feeling, or try to hide his reaction, humming slightly. It feels nice. A gentle massage that steadily stokes the fire in his belly.
He doesn’t know at what point he had closed his eyes again, but when he hears the sound of a wrapper, his eyes blink open to see Seokjin ripping what looks like a soy sauce packet one might get from a takeaway place open with his teeth. The hand on his balls leaves, and the clear lube gets squeezed on Seokjin’s fingers. Seokjin spreads it around, looking contemplative.
“Do you want to stand on your knees on my lap or do you want to lay down?” he asks.
Yoongi considers his options. His intuition tells him he’s going to come from whatever Seokjin has planned, so he wants to be comfortable… But he also wants to stay as close to Seokjin as possible right now. He takes a moment to think about it, but ends up going with the former option. He is just gonna have to hope his thighs won’t give up on him.
Instead of answering, Yoongi places himself in front of Seokjin, knees caging Seokjin’s thighs in. His hands rest on Seokjin’s shoulders, and though Yoongi is standing on his knees and Seokjin is sitting, Yoongi still isn’t much taller than him. He pouts a little at the realisation, but hides it by shoving his face into Seokjin’s hair - hair that smells very good and feels very soft.
Seokjin wraps an arm around Yoongi’s waist, bringing his body closer to his chest, while his lube-covered hand finds its way to Yoongi’s ass. The spreading of lube isn’t terribly accurate since Seokjin can’t see what he’s doing, but Yoongi likes it anyway. The slick trail to his hole feels cooler as air moves to steal the heat from his skin. The fingers slide and prod against the skin between his cheeks, and Yoongi has a feeling Seokjin is doing it on purpose. There is not other explanation why his fingers would move all the way down to the perineum and back up to his tailbone.
Yoongi tries to be patient, but the teasing is maddening. It does not help the matter that his erection, completely hard, rubs against Seokjin’s chest with each of his movements. He hopes the shirt isn’t Seokjin’s favourite, or that he knows a good cleaner, because Yoongi is leaking precum like crazy. He wonders if Seokjin can feel it already in how his shirt sticks to his body. His body, without any intention on Yoongi’s part, jerks to brush harder against Seokjin.
“Ungh…”
All movement on Seokjin’s part stops.
“Stay still.”
Yoongi bites his lip hard. The hand finally settles against his ass cheek, and a finger circles his rim. Then it finally pushes in to the second knuckle. Yoongi’s death grip on Seokjin’s shirt doesn’t let up, as he wills himself not to disobey and sink back on the finger. Though it would feel really good. It would feel great . Yoongi is sure he’s so aroused that he could fuck himself into an orgasm with just that one finger.
The finger inspects his walls at a leisurely pace, circling the inside, testing his rim. When it moves back, Yoongi doesn’t manage to hold the whine, and Seokjin can hear it very clearly with Yoongi’s head bowed and mouth right next to his ear. At least it seems like Seokjin takes some pity in him, as the finger fucks back into him - torturously slowly, but still.
Yoongi gasps a breath before biting back on his lip. A continuous chant of ‘don’t move, don’t move’ plays in his head, and the only thing he’s aware of anymore besides the cursed finger sinking all the way into him before pulling back again.
“More?”
Yoongi’s head rolls to the side, trying to understand the words he hadn’t been paying attention to. It’s hard when the finger pushes back in, curls and tugs on his rim.
“Mm. Hmh. Yes,” he says. Quickly he tacks on. “Please.”
He thinks he hears another coo, but it all gets muddled up when a second finger pushes in. The stretch of the first one had been fine, but now, now the fingers are pulling in opposite directions, and Yoongi keens. The fingers scissor him open for a few seconds, then move along his inner wall, dragging and kneading, as they keep reaching higher and higher. Yoongi knows they’ll reach what they’re looking for soon, and his toes curl in anticipation.
There.
The first contact slackens his hold on Seokjin’s shoulders, and releases his abused lip from in between his teeth. The fingers pull back, letting him gather himself, lean further into Seokjin’s hold, cock trapped in between them, and wrap his arms securely around Seokjin’s neck.
“Ready?”
Yoongi nods, and that’s all that Seokjin needs to ram his fingers brutally into his prostate.
There is no stopping from Yoongi’s body jerking at the pure electricity shooting through his body, no shutting up his guttural whine. The fingers rock into his prostate, and with them, his body rocks in the same tempo. Yoongi barely registers when Seokjin slips a third finger in, or the wet squelch of his hole when Seokjin moves his hand. With each jab, he becomes less focused on the command of not moving, his body chasing pleasure it knows is so close. His pants and moans get cut off by quick swallows as saliva pools into his mouth. His eyes roll back, and the arm around his waist tightens into an iron hold, stopping the tiny movements his hips had started. He is not the one in control of his pleasure. It is given to him. He does not take.
His left calf is cramping from how tight his body is wound, and he barely manages to mutter through his moans:
“Cuh-... Cum-ming- ah!”
Seokjin’s fingers do not relent. He only gets a hum in response, and a quiet command in response.
“Cum.”
It’s like his whole brain shifted to focus on sound when he hears Seokjin’s voice. He hears his heavy breathing, his moans and the constant wet squelching-
His brain zeroes in on the sound and conjures an image of Seokjin’s fingers pushing into his sopping hole. He sees the glistening lube, the puffed rim and Seokjin’s fingers disappearing deep inside him so vividly he briefly wonders if he’s hallucinating. The image breaks the dam and jolts of pleasure wrack his body in constant waves. Seokjin’s fingers milk him through it, pushing the last of hoarse moans out of him before his bones become as strong as cooked pasta and his quivering thighs give in beneath him.
Seokjin’s fingers slip out of him as Yoongi slumps in his lap. His head rests on Seokjin’s shoulder, bleary eyes staring off into nothing. He hears some rustling, feels some movement of Seokjin’s body around him, but doesn’t bother acknowledging any of it. A tissue gives his ass a quick preliminary cleanup, but Seokjin doesn’t force him to move from his spot just yet. Yoongi unashamedly basks in the afterglow of his orgasm, enjoying the feeling and warmth of Seokjin’s body beneath him. It takes a few minutes for his brain to come back online. When it does, he faces a question.
“What about you?” he asks. His brain is back on its way to the usual worries.
“What about me, beautiful?” The way Seokjin hands out such pet names has Yoongi hiding his blush by nuzzling his face into Seokjin’s shirt.
“What makes you feel good?” His words come out mumbled.
“Oh, pretty, we’ll get to that eventually,” Seokjin assures him, tone light. His hand pets Yoongi’s back in broad strokes. “Right now, it’s all about you.”
With the way Seokjin is treating him to exactly the aftercare Yoongi had specified, he is okay with that. For now.