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The weather outside raged on, rain pouring from the darkened sky, each drop splattering against the tinted windows of the car that Minho sat in. He watched as each drop merged with the other and continued its descent. He’d always liked the rain. It was serene and peaceful–something he didn’t often experience in his line of work.
His driver was en route to take him home. However, that wasn't where Minho really wanted to go. His house had never really been his home, if he was being honest. He had to move often for his safety, and most material possessions meant very little to him at this point. There was only one thing left on this earth that could make Lee Minho, a renowned, cruel, and heartless crime boss, feel anything. A man. He didn’t even know his name, but he knew him more intimately than he had ever known another.
He knew it would be more responsible to just go home. It was late, the weather was bad, and he really needed to stop indulging himself so much. There were many–countless–people who wanted to crush any happiness he may feel. Steal, ruin, kill, whatever they could do to hurt him in any way possible. Whether it was just to get back at him or an attempt to dethrone him from his position of power, it didn’t matter.
Minho knew he’d been too sloppy recently with his visits. He couldn’t resist, though. He craved the warmth of flesh under his hands, the sweet voice that spoke to him so warmly, the man he’d come to know as Daisy.
He made his decision. In truth, he’d known from the moment he entered the car.
He dialled a familiar number on one of his many burner phones. His driver rerouted without so much as a word. “Prepare Daisy for me. I'll be arriving in fifteen and you know how much I hate to be kept waiting.” He pulled his face mask on and his hood up to hide his features. He could only be so reckless. Certain precautions still had to be maintained.
They pulled up outside a small amount of time later, the discreet building the same as it always had been. “Haven” was just a normal strip club on the outside and how it was presented to the average customer. However, for the right price and with enough influence, it acted as an escort lounge of sorts. The dancers were well respected and well paid, and they had the right to say no at any point. His Daisy had never denied him, though. Daisy wasn't his real name, obviously. To maintain anonymity, all of the dancers went by codenames, each a different type of flower. His flower was the prettiest pistil he’d ever seen, though.
Minho had been enraptured by his favorite flower’s beauty from the first moment he laid eyes on him. Now, the pull to visit him again and again was nearly irresistible. Even if they only did it for the money, Minho didn’t care. He would pay as much as it took to feel him again and again. To make sure he was the only one who ever got to fuck him. He wanted the only flower blooming on the man's skin to be his. Orchids covering the expanse of his back and decorating him in a bouquet all of Minho’s own.
No one knew his flower, or that he himself was a stamen. He intended to keep it that way for as long as he could. To keep making orchids bloom against tanned skin, the outline of them glowing just under the man's skin like tattoos.
He was ushered inside the familiar side door, his driver turning off the car to wait for him. A stunning blonde man greeted him, beaming as he handed a set of room keys to Minho. “Same room as always. Daisy is ready and waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” Minho nodded. He didn’t waste time with more pleasantries, eager to get to his destination. He walked the familiar path to an isolated room in the back of the building, exquisite and pleasant decorations leading the way with every turn. None of them compared to his flower, though.
When he shut the door behind him and turned to take in the room, his breath caught in his throat. The scene was just as it always was, his flower prepped and filled with a pretty plug, still glistening from the excess of lube used. The man's honey skin was exposed, not an inch of his front half covered from Minho’s sight. He traced over every petal on Daisy's chest, abdomen, arms, and legs, admiring the physical evidence of each and every time he'd claimed the man as his own. Planted his seed into the most beautiful man he'd ever known.
He took his time approaching the bed, undoing his tie and removing his coat slowly. Daisy knew not to speak unless spoken to. All of their flowers were well-trained on how to deal with high-profile guests. Minho almost wished it could be different between them, though.
His hungry gaze traveled over the expanse of Daisy's honey-kissed skin, enjoying the way his body was stretched over the bed due to his hands being restrained and attached to the headboard. A satin blindfold covered his eyes, secured tightly. His heart lurched at how well behaved his flower was. He was so good for him.
Even though all of the staff, as well as the flowers, signed NDAs, Minho still couldn't afford to let his face be seen. It was too risky, and the last thing he wanted was for the establishment or its employees to face trouble. Especially his flower. He was being reckless enough by simply allowing himself to indulge.
His lifestyle had robbed him of a lot of things over the years. He'd had a stable relationship once upon a time, a family, even friends. His job had slowly taken them from him, whether by scaring them away…or worse. He'd paid the price and felt the searing, hollow pain of loss time and time again. He had sworn he'd do everything in his power to never feel it again.
Still, though, he desired companionship. Touch. To fuck. Daisy supplied him with that. They didn't even know each other's real names, yet Minho had requested Daisy so many times now that their bodies seemed to recognize one another. Conversation flowed easily. Minho allowed himself to indulge in the only way he could. And indulge he did.
He devoured the man with his eyes, taking his time to digest the stunning sight before him. Daisy's pretty pink lips slightly parted, his tight little body stretched across the bed. His arms tied above his head, bound and fastened to the bedpost just like always, showing off his dusty pink nipples and pretty little cock. He couldn't hide himself from Minho's gaze. Vulnerable, surrendering himself for the taking. Owned completely.
Minho wanted so desperately to rip the blindfold from his eyes and allow his flower to finally see him. To allow the man to appreciate the hard planes of his body and to feel the touch of another on his skin. He was so touch-starved it was ridiculous. He couldn't, though. He wouldn't. This man, his Daisy, had become precious to him, and he refused to endanger him in that way.
Minho craved control in every aspect of his life, and this was no different.
“Hello, Daisy darling,” Minho greeted the man softly, smiling as he flinched from the sudden noise in a quiet room. “I'm sorry to request you so late. I hope you've been well.”
“It's my pleasure, sir. I'm always happy to be available to you. You know that,” the man responded, his voice lower than Minho’s own. It soothed an ache deep inside of Minho that he didn't even know he had.
“You look beautiful as always, my flower. Maybe even more so today than last time,” Minho complimented. He removed his shirt, setting it aside before doing the same with his pants and boxers.
A small smile graced Daisy's mouth. “You flatter me, sir.”
A small shiver of thrill always traveled through him from the use of the title. He could only imagine the effect hearing his real name fall from those pouty lips would have on him.
Minho sat on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly and jostling Daisy's body. He placed his hand on the man's knee, gently trailing his fingers up the soft flesh of his thigh. “I've missed you. Have you been good while I've been away?” Minho halted his touch just before it reached the man's cock.
A shudder traveled through Daisy's body. “Always. I'm always good for you sir. You can check, no new flowers. Won't let anyone have me but you.”
Minho felt his cock twitch, already growing to full hardness, heavy and erect between his legs. He trailed a singular finger tip along the thick vein on the underside of Daisy's cock, admiring the way his flower bloomed under his touch, so sensitive and needy. “Have you been living comfortably? You know all you need to do is tell Felix, and I'll send you more money or anything your heart could desire.”
The man squirmed under his touch, a small pleasured breath leaving him. “You have sent more than enough. I live very comfortably, sir. Thank you for taking care of me.”
The response felt dishonest. Not the usual genuine tone his flower had with him. Minho moved to rest between his Daisy's legs, situated so that his words could be felt against the man's cock as he spoke them. “Please be honest with me, my flower. Whatever you want, I will get it for you.”
He took the man's cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip, tasting him and committing him to memory. Daisy pulled on his restraints, a moan ripping from his throat.
“I'm afraid what I desire most can't simply be purchased,” Daisy said, his voice soft and breathless. He bucked his hips up into Minho’s mouth, whining prettily.
“No?” Minho questioned, popping off with a lewd noise, trailing his tongue along the man's slit. “What is it you desire, then?”
Daisy shuddered, his fingers curling against the restraints. He hesitated for a few moments, during which Minho observed the man's features, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He wanted to understand every little detail about the man underneath him, to solve him like a riddle. The silence stretched on, not uncomfortable, but loud, until the flower shattered it. “Something I ought not to want. Something that will only bring me pain, yet I can't erase him from my mind. My body is painted with his touch, I bear the markings of fields of flowers all belonging to the same man. The one that holds my heart.”
Minho froze, his pulse thudding in his ears as the words settled over him, the reality of them scraping against his skin like broken glass. He couldn't hear those words spoken from his flower. He couldn't accept them–it was too dangerous. His pulse rocketed in his heart. “Daisy–,” he started to respond before getting interrupted.
“Jisung,” the man said, the name falling off his lips like a plea. “Call me by my name, please. Even if it's just for tonight. I–I can't bear it if you call me by a fake name even one more time.”
Tears slipped down the man's cheeks, his voice shaking as he confirmed Minho’s worst fear. “It's you. Even though I don't know your name or who you are. I know you're a powerful man. You probably don't even care that someone like me has fallen for you. But…I can't deny myself of my true feelings anymore. I'm covered in orchids, sir. I'm the only flower employed here that is decorated by your touch. I–I have to believe that you feel the same. You like me at least to some extent. Maybe not as much as I desire but–”
Minho couldn't take it anymore. He silenced his flower–Jisung– with a searing kiss. It was desperate, passionate, and messy. He thought he was strong enough to deny himself, to keep Jisung at arms length. How wrong he was. Their connection was as undeniable as the orchids that Minho had fucked onto his skin.
He more than liked Jisung. He loved him. Despite all logic and every reason why he shouldn't. He couldn't deny the extent of his desire any longer. He wanted to laugh with Jisung. To hold him, share life with him. Could he allow himself to be so selfish? If he were honest with himself…he'd already been far more reckless than he should have been.
Jisung could be in danger even now. Was Minho a fool to have tricked himself into believing Jisung was safer without him?
But he needed to know that Jisung understood the risk. Life with him wouldn't be easy. It would be messy. Dangerous. He broke their kiss, panting into the air between them.
“It's dangerous, Jisung,” Minho said. His name tasted sweet on his tongue like honey. It sounded like honesty, like finally admitting the truth. “Your life will be in danger every day with me. You’ll be protected, armed, taught to defend yourself…but it's possible that won't be enough. You have to be sure that you actually want this. That losing everything and everyone is worth it just to have…me.”
Jisung's fingers fidgeted with the ties that bound his wrists nervously. Minho braced himself for the rejection he knew would crush him. Their breaths mingled together, still close enough that even a small movement and their lips would meet once again.
“I–I don't have anything in this life that I don't have because of you. I have friends, yes, but they are my fellow flowers that work here. They each have their own powerful visitors and their own risks that they take. I haven't spoken to my family in many years. It's worth it to me to know you. Even if you just tell me your name or let me see your face. I'm sure. I've never been more certain of anything.”
“You can never go back if I let you see me. If I allow you to know me…you'll be stuck with me. Are you sure, Jisung?” Minho asked, torn between desperately wanting the man to say yes and dreading to hear the word.
“I've never been more sure of anything. Please, let me see your face,” Jisung pleaded, voice soft and genuine.
Stronger men than Minho would have crumbled at the sight. He was strong in all areas of his life except Jisung, his sweet, delicate flower. He untied the wrist restraints first, removing the cuffs and kissing each of Jisung’s wrists.
Then, it was finally time to remove his flower's blindfold. His heart fluttered in his chest, excitement and lust overwhelming any fear that remained. “My name is Lee Minho," he whispered before peeling the blindfold away slowly, revealing the two most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.
They blinked up at him, wide, sparkling and the most captivating shade of brown. Like a rich coffee or amber when light was shone onto it. Jisung was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Minho was gone. Completely and irrevocably smitten.
“Lee Minho…” Jisung breathed out, the weight of who he was settling between them. “Minho. It suits you.”
“You're absolutely stunning, just like I knew you were,” Minho breathed out in awe. “Now that you know who I am…do you still want me?” He couldn't help but be anxious. There were years of history and power behind the Lee name. What if Jisung didn't want him after all?
“Your family name is quite renowned. That doesn't change how I feel about you, though. My heart is yours,” he whispered. Jisung reached out a hand to caress Minho’s face, tracing the lines of it, as if memorizing his features. “You are even more handsome than I expected.”
He giggled, something Minho had never heard before from his flower. He immediately wanted to hear it again. For the rest of his life, too.
Their lips met again, and the desire between them rekindled. It was the same as it always was, but charged with new energy. Jisung’s hands tangled in his hair for the first time, like he'd only dreamed of it happening. This was everything. He didn't know how he'd lived without this for so long.
Minho took his time, kissing over every inch of Jisung’s face before traveling down to mark his neck, directly over one of his orchids.
His kisses trailed down, lavishing attention to each and every inch of the younger’s body he could reach. His stomach, thighs, chest, legs, cock, and arms until he hovered back over Jisung.
Big brown eyes looked back at him. “Take me, please. Make me yours for real, Minho.”
How could he ever deny his Jisung anything from this moment on?
Minho pulled the plug out gently, setting it aside. He then reached into the bedside table and retrieved the body oil they always used. It smelled of orchids and honey, a rather fitting combination.
He slicked his length with the substance before lining himself up and pushing in. Jisung’s expression was one he wouldn't soon forget, his eyes scrunched together, and his pouty lips parted on a moan. Minho couldn't wait to watch him fall apart beneath him.
Their lips met once and then again before Minho finally began to move. He pulled out, then thrust back home, setting a languid pace. His body rolled against Jisung’s, his hips moving fluidly before snapping forward with each thrust.
It was ecstasy, each roll of his hips earning him another moan or cry. Jisung’s eyes didn't leave him the entire time, the air passionate and charged between them.
He needed to be closer, deeper. He hooked Jisung’s knees over his shoulder and pressed them towards his chest, folding the younger nearly in half.
Jisung nearly screamed on the next thrust, Minho's cock driving deeper and harder inside of his tight heat. Minho devoured the sound with his lips, meeting Jisung in a breathy kiss.
Minho fucked him hard and deep, his pace picking up slightly, changing from a languid roll to something more desperate. His pretty flower felt even more amazing enveloping his cock than usual. The knowledge that he belonged fully to him made the older feel near feral, overwhelmed with the sensations.
He wouldn't last much longer, not with the way Jisung’s walls clenched around him. He angled himself just a bit, picking up the pace once again. He could tell he'd found Jisung’s sweet spot now, the younger clenching around him on every cry and wail.
Minho stared into Jisung’s eyes as he claimed him further with each thrust. “From today on you belong to me and only me. My pretty flower, my Jisung. I love you.”
The younger came shortly after Minho uttered those words, a loud cry ripping from Jisung as he painted their bellies white. “I love you, too. I love you so much. Have for the longest time.”
Minho grunted, leaning down to capture the younger’s lips as he thrust deep inside of him once more, his orgasm washing over him. He came deep inside of the younger, grinding his release as far in as he could.
They remained like that for a few moments, both grinning from ear to ear, sharing toothy, breathy kisses. This was the best night of Minho’s entire existence.
Soon, his favorite part of every meeting with his Daisy began. It began with a new, glowing line traveling along Jisung’s honey skin, branching out from where every other flower originated on his upper back.
The glowing line, almost akin to a vine, stopped just short of the younger’s heart, a new, beautiful orchid blooming across his skin. It almost brought Minho to tears. This flower was different from the other orchids he'd marked Jisung with, though.
Almost as if solidifying the intensity of their feelings for one another, this bloom was significantly larger than the others. Instead of the subtle green that all the others faded into, this orchid was a striking pink, matching Minho’s own orchid marking perfectly. It truly felt like fate.
Minho cleaned them up, redressing them as best he could. He made sure to adorn Jisung in a loose, white shirt, one that the new flower could be easily seen through. He wasn't ready to stop looking at it yet. He'd never seen anything as beautiful as his flower.
When they were ready to go, Minho scooped Jisung into his arms, tucking his face into his neck. He carried him out of the room and down the hall, only stopping briefly to speak to Felix.
“I'm taking Daisy home with me. He won't be needing a job here any longer. Thank you for taking such good care of him. I'll send for his things another day.”
“It's about time,” Felix said, beaming brightly at them. “Keep in touch.”
With that, he exited the building, carrying his entire world safely in his arms as they crawled into the back of his car.
As they pulled up to Minho’s home, which was now their home, he pulled Jisung close to him, kissing his lips and then placing one against the pink orchid, just visible beneath his shirt.
“Welcome home, my flower,” Minho whispered.
“You have always been my home.”