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“Comfortable, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me if that changes.” Yoongi nudges the corner of the overstuffed cushion beneath Jungkook’s knees. “Sit pretty for me.”
Oh, this he knows how to do: wrists crossed at his lower back, legs spread, spine arched, chest forward, chin up, gaze lowered. The proper position when kneeling for his Dom.
“Good boy,” Yoongi purrs, his deep voice wrapping around Jungkook as smoothly as the silk rope he loves to bind him with. “Never seen such a beautiful sight.”
Jungkook’s cheeks grow warm. His tongue pokes out to fiddle with the twin hoops in his lip as Yoongi steps behind him, his expensive loafers scuffing the floor. The scent of leather is light in the air.
“Wrists, please.”
Jungkook uncrosses his arms and reaches back until he meets Yoongi’s waiting hands, the heat of his palms sending a tingle down Jungkook’s spine. The movement draws his shirt tighter across his chest, gaps opening between the buttons. The cuffs go on slowly, Yoongi’s fingers slipping between the padded lining and Jungkook’s skin to gauge the tightness.
A shuddery breath leaves Jungkook’s lungs as he briefly tugs on the restraints, testing them himself. They hold him easily.
He wasn’t sure he could do this, at first.
“You’re worried.”
Jungkook nodded. Yoongi always knew when something wasn’t sitting right with him. He tended to clock Jungkook’s thoughts before he even processed them himself.
“I just—I don’t know if it will work. And if it doesn’t, it won’t—I won’t—please you.”
“One thing at a time, Kook-ah,” Yoongi said, coaxing his chin up, breaking Jungkook’s focus on a loose thread in the carpet. “Is it the sex?”
“No, no. I mean, it’s nice, sometimes, but I don’t need it during a scene.”
“Okay.” His thumb made light passes over Jungkook’s jaw. “What then?”
“It can be hard for me to let go if it’s not . . . heavy enough?” He paused, wrinkling his nose. “No, that’s not the right word.”
Just the sight of a flogger could settle him. A good paddling would make him sink as easily as breathing. A full suspension with a web of ropes biting into his skin? He’d slip before the final knot was tied.
“Intense?” Yoongi suggested.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Jungkook chewed on his lip. Yoongi freed it before it started to sting. Or worse, bleed.
“Thank you for telling me, baby.” Jungkook’s tummy did a funny little flip. It always seemed to happen when Yoongi called him that. “I’d like to experiment a bit, see if I can bring you down—nice and easy—if you trust me with this.”
A person could leave their bank account or a litter of tiny kittens or their firstborn in Yoongi’s care without fear that anything would happen to them on his watch. Handing over control was easy.
“I—I do. Trust you.”
“Then let me show you I can still take you there. I won’t let you down.”
“Tell me your safeword.”
Jungkook blinks as the memory of their conversation fades. He can’t imagine he’ll have to put a stop to a scene that’s going to be on the softer side, but rules are rules.
“Sunflower.”
“Very good, sweetheart.”
Okay, so maybe his toes just curled a bit. He shakes it off and returns his attention to maintaining his form.
“You already have a collar, but I saw this the other day and knew it would be perfect on you,” Yoongi says, the jingle of a buckle reaching Jungkook’s ears.
Yoongi feeds the smooth panel of leather around his throat, testing the fit before securing it. It’s wider than Jungkook’s usual one, bumping the underside of his chin if he tips his head down. Not quite a full posture collar, but close.
With it on, he can only face forward and await his Dom’s instructions. Jungkook likes that very much—the way it restricts his range of motion.
“How does it feel?”
“Nice.” Jungkook swallows, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, little one. Still comfortable?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Any cramping or numbness?”
“No, Sir.”
“Excellent.” Yoongi claps his hands softly, not enough to startle Jungkook or disrupt the mood. “I have another surprise for you.”
Jungkook’s world goes dark as something silky and smooth slips over his eyes. A blindfold. He shivers as Yoongi adjusts it so no light can creep in.
This is new. Yoongi’s never taken his sight from him, though it’s a green-light item on his list of likes and limits.
“I won’t leave your side, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi assures. “You may not always be able to feel or hear me, but I’m right here with you.” Those long, agile pianist’s fingers thread through Jungkook’s hair, petting gently. “I wish you could see how pretty you are. Thank you for trusting me with your precious gift.”
Jungkook’s heart knocks against his ribs as a surge of need washes over him. “S-sir?”
“Yes?”
“May I—may I have a kiss?” He’s not sure if he’s earned one yet, but it can’t hurt to try.
“Of course. I’m proud of you for asking.”
Yoongi’s fingers tighten in his hair, holding Jungkook still as their lips brush together. He places a dozen kitten kisses from the corner of Jungkook’s mouth to the center of his cupid’s bow.
Jungkook barely stifles a whimper when Yoongi pulls away.
“Don’t fret. You’ll get more later.”
Oh. Yes, please.
The muted tap of Yoongi’s shoes and the swish of his wide-legged dress pants as he moves around the room are Jungkook’s only means of tracking where he is. Even then, if he focuses on it too much, his brain starts to play tricks on him. Is Sir to his left? His right? In front of him?
“No more of that, baby.” Yoongi says, tugging lightly on Jungkook’s earlobe. “Your nose scrunches when you’re overthinking. It’s cute as fuck, but let’s see if we can quiet those pesky thoughts, hmm?”
A match scratches against its box, and a flame hisses to life. Is he lighting a candle? Yoongi walks behind Jungkook, stirring the air. A mellow blend of vanilla and lavender mixes with the heady leather. Jungkook breathes it in, any leftover tension beginning to melt from his muscles.
“That’s it. Take some deep breaths,” Yoongi instructs. “I’ll count.”
Jungkook’s lungs expand on the way to four and release down to eight. They repeat the cycle until a soft haze settles in the corners of his mind.
“Better?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Yoongi hums. The legs of a chair slide across the floor, stopping in front of Jungkook. “Hungry?”
The grumble of Jungkook’s belly answers for him. A blush floods his cheeks. “Yes, Sir.”
“You remembered to eat dinner tonight, right?”
“I did, Sir, as much as I could handle.” The butterflies he always gets before a scene tend to whittle away at his appetite, but he did his best. “And I drank a big glass of water.”
Yoongi chuckles and leans in, his hair tickling Jungkook’s nose as he presses a kiss to the sharp line of his jaw.
“That’s very good.” Plastic crinkles and there’s a snap—the lid of a storage dish?—then Jungkook picks up on a fresh sweetness that reminds him of summer picnics. “Open for me.”
Jungkook does so without hesitation and waits as something cool and wet skims his bottom lip. Yoongi passes it back and forth, leaving a sticky trail.
When it finally lands on his tongue and Yoongi says “Go ahead,” Jungkook sinks his teeth into the mystery treat. A burst of juice hits his mouth, his taste buds tingling from the hint of tartness.
“Strawberry,” he guesses, licking his lips.
“Mmhmm. Is it good?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“If you get too full or don’t like what I give you, tell me.”
Jungkook nods, forgetting himself and trying to dip his head after Yoongi pecks him on the cheek.
“Now you see why I chose that collar for you,” Yoongi says, a lilt in his voice that shows up whenever Jungkook does something he considers adorable. “Chin up. Just like that, doll.”
A fine tremble starts in Jungkook’s thighs at his Dom’s words, but there’s no burning ache between his legs. This is different, swamping his senses with gentleness and quiet. Each new sound, scent, taste, and touch captures his full attention. Almost overwhelming with how soft it all is.
“Open again.”
The crunch of a grape is next. Then a crisp bite of apple. A slice of pear. A wedge of ripe peach.
A trickle of juice escapes Jungkook’s mouth as he tackles another plump berry. He whines as it drips onto his chin, but Yoongi is there already, catching it before it stains his shirt. The warm stroke of Yoongi’s tongue glides over Jungkook’s skin, collecting the juice and pausing to flick Jungkook’s bottom lip.
“You taste delicious. You’re my own special treat, aren’t you?” Yoongi asks.
“Sir?”
“Yes, dove?”
“K-kiss, please?” Jungkook stammers, his heart thumping loud enough that he wonders if Yoongi can hear it.
Yoongi takes his time with this kiss, pausing for breath—and for Jungkook to release his own shaky puffs of air—between each pass of their mouths. When he licks inside with careful pushes of his tongue, Jungkook melts. Yoongi cups his nape to support him, his thumb drawing tiny designs behind Jungkook’s ear. He lets Jungkook suck lightly on the tip of his tongue before slowly pulling back.
The wobble in Jungkook’s thighs travels to his knees, but Yoongi steadies him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Can you handle a little more? I have something else I think you’ll enjoy.”
Jungkook bobs his head. His lips move, but nothing comes out. He’s so comfortable, nearly boneless, wrapped in the blanket of Yoongi’s mastery.
“Are your words getting hard to find, baby?”
Jungkook nods again. His thoughts have retreated, tucked away for later. He’s all fuzzy. Sinking. But Sir will catch him.
“That’s alright.” Yoongi reaches past him, and Jungkook noses at his neck and the silky curls there as Yoongi releases the clip on his cuffs. He brings Jungkook’s hands forward and places them on his thighs, palms down. “If you need to stop, pat my leg twice, okay?”
Nod, nod.
“Ready? Open up.”
A small square is pressed onto Jungkook’s tongue. It’s cool and hard, but as it sits there, it warms and softens. Jungkook rolls it around in his mouth, humming at the rich, bitter sweetness.
Dark chocolate.
“You like that?”
Nod, nod, nod. Jungkook’s lips part in a silent plea for more before Yoongi can even ask.
He laughs, feeding him another square of chocolate. It’s gooier than the last piece, probably starting to melt from the heat of Yoongi’s hand. Jungkook licks his lips and finds a smear of it there.
Which must mean it’s getting on Yoongi’s fingers, too.
When Yoongi pops the next piece into Jungkook’s mouth, he lingers for a moment, stroking the curve of his lip as Jungkook chews. Yoongi’s thumb reaches the seam of his mouth and, without being told, Jungkook takes it inside.
He sucks gently, neatly, cleaning the remnants of chocolate from Yoongi’s skin, his tongue swirling over the bump of his knuckle. Yoongi gives him his other fingers, one at a time, and Jungkook pulls each into his mouth, working diligently to clear any traces of the sweet treat.
He wants to do a thorough job. Make sure he’s serving his Dom well.
As he suckles, running his tongue across the lightly calloused pad of Yoongi’s finger, the cottony softness filling his head grows. It’s safe here. Peaceful. He can lie down and stretch out in it. Plump it up like a pillow. Stay a while.
Jungkook vaguely registers the sudden emptiness in his mouth. The lack of weight on his tongue. A whine starts low in his throat, but Yoongi is there, kissing away the loss.
“You took care of Sir so well,” he soothes, massaging Jungkook’s neck, just above his collar. “Come a bit closer.” Jungkook shuffles nearer, the cushion sliding on the floor. “There we are.” Yoongi guides him down until a swath of pressed linen meets Jungkook’s cheek. “Lay your head right here on my lap and relax. Such a good boy.”
He can do that—be pliant and good.
Jungkook nuzzles the material of Yoongi’s pants and sighs, content to drift.
“I’m with you, and I’m not going anywhere. Rest your mind, angel. Float for me.”
And so Jungkook does.