Chapter Text
After a year of dating, there are a few things Jinyoung has learned about Jaebum.
He knows that Jaebum keeps a gun with him at all times. It comes up on their first date when he wraps an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder and their hips collide -- he feels the outline of the gun and its heavy, looming shape. When he looks down, it seems to suck up all the light of the room. His breath catches in his throat, his eyes widen, and when he looks up, Jaebum is smiling.
“Just to be safe,” he tells him.
He doesn’t remove it, doesn’t adjust it, lets it hang there for the remainder of their time together. He’s taken Jinyoung on a yacht and there is no reason for complaint. There is no space to worry, either, since Jaebum dotes on him the entire time. And later when Jaebum is pressed against the railing of the boat, his short fingers gripping on the metal, Jinyoung, who by now is on his knees, mouth full of Jaebum’s cock, lets his fingers graze over the gun from where it peeks out of the puddle of fabric at Jaebum’s ankles.
He imagines what it would be like to have it pressed against his forehead, his cheek maybe. Cold, smooth metal on warm skin. He imagines that Jaebum, in desperation, might point it between his eyes and say, “Suck.” He imagines that he’d have to give the best blowjob he’s ever given to stay alive, to keep Jaebum tame, to keep him sane. The thought excites him, and the more his fingers trace the mouth of the gun, the more electric their encounter becomes. He makes it a point to suck deeper, with more force, though louder. He makes it a point to let saliva drip from his lips, to pull away and breathe and so strands of cum stretch and thin from the head of Jaebum’s cock to Jinyoung’s swollen lips. He makes it a point to look up, to lean forward and lap lazily at the head so Jaebum opens his eyes and looks down.
Their gazes clash and Jinyoung thinks about the gun, how quickly this entire night could go wrong. He remembers the command he’s imagined: Suck. He leans forward again and ignores Jaebum’s cock, instead takes his balls in his mouth, one at a time carefully. He lets his tongue run over the wrinkled skin before he leans back again, licks a fat stripe on the underside of Jaebum’s cock. In the warm of the night, Jaebum’s skin burns against his tongue, and Jinyoung blames it on the swollen veins that wrap around his erection. He traces them with his tongue, then takes him in again, deep, until his nose presses against the small bush of hair at Jaebum’s base. Until his cock, not the longest, but fat, makes him gag and choke and turn red from how eagerly he sucks.
He looks up, pleading, the corners of his eyes wet, and that’s when Jaebum cums with a grunt. His entire body tenses, his thighs harden, his breathing stops, then resumes. Spurts hit the back of his throat, and he swallows each drop hungrily, desperately, and below, Jinyoung slips a finger inside the barrel of the gun.
He knows that Jaebum is serious about dating him when, on the third date, he teaches Jinyoung how to shoot a gun. They don’t go to a range, as Jinyoung had imagined, but they do it out in the wilderness with no other targets but the ones his bodyguard tacks up on a tree. Jinyoung pretends to be useless at shooting so that Jaebum has to come up from behind and align their arms together.
“Like this,” he murmurs and each word lays over Jinyoung’s neck like warm, wet breaths. He almost goes slack from sensation, but Jaebum props him up and guides his hands, his arms. At one point, he drops one of his hands to wrap around Jinyoung’s hip. All of his nerves flock to there.
When they finally shoot, the recoil is less than Jinyoung expects, but he still stumbles back just enough to have his ass graze against Jaebum’s groin. Jaebum gives a quiet groan, then presses forward, and they remain there for a second, without a breath between their bodies. Jinyoung can feel Jaebum’s belt against his lower back so he sways his hips just slightly, lets a thin layer of friction grow between them. And when Jaebum snakes a hand around to grab Jinyoung’s crotch, he’s hard, ready.
Jaebum orders his bodyguard to look away, to stand a few feet away so he can fuck Jinyoung on top of the car. He bends him over, lifts his hips high up so that his ass is on display. When he pries his cheeks apart, the forest air is cool against his rim and Jinyoung shudders, tightens, but Jaebum, with short but steady fingers, works him back open. He spends most of his time kneading at pink of his rim before he digs further, bends a finger when he’s inside, where the muscles tighten but his walls are softer.
Jinyoung’s cheek is pressed against the cold hood of the car as his entire body seems to flare with heat. The more he gets fucked by Jaebum’s fingers, the more he writhes, the more his fists slide along the car. When Jaebum tries to fit in three fingers, Jinyoung knows he’s ready, so he curves his back so that his ass is more exposed. He opens himself as best as he can, shows Jaebum, who by now must only be watching him, just how pliant and malleable he can be. His entrance quivers, Jaebum’s fingers disappear, and Jinyoung’s breath fogs up the blue metal in front of him. He doesn’t dare look back, just closes his eyes and waits for what comes.
Without his eyes, he is left to find his world through touch. The cool metal of the hood under his fingers, the shape of the car vents digging into his bare thighs. The sudden wetness of Jaebum’s spit, the dry, rough infiltration of his cock. The drag of his cock against his walls, then the warm way in which his walls become moist, as if welcoming him. As if drawing Jaebum in.
Jinyoung moans but even those sounds become inaudible the longer Jaebum fucks him. It seems like he does for hours, lazy, languid, as if he’s testing Jinyoung’s ass out. His fingers dig into Jinyoung’s hips, and he knows that his nails will leave a mark, but he still pushes pack and begs for more.
He doesn’t expect Jaebum to pull out, but he does, and his walls contract, he feels empty. He opens his mouth to complain but Jaebum rams himself inside him again with a breathy “fuck” and Jinyoung’s eyes roll back. He keeps doing it, the pulling out just to push in, emptying Jinyoung just to fill him again. At this, Jinyoung’s toes curl and he wonders, for a second, if he can cum just from getting fucked. Jaebum gives him no time to think, he speeds up, goes harder, faster, until he doesn’t even try to pull out all the way, just enough for his head to graze the right nerves that make Jinyoung’s entire lower body light up in warm static.
He fucks him so hard that he’s sure he passes out for a few seconds. The world goes white, he no longer feels the car, no longer hears the birds in the distance, no longer sees the trees shivering in the breeze. All he’s aware of is a pulse, and only when he comes back to reality, when he wakes up to find Jaebum stretching him out to dig out his cum with his fingers, cleaning Jinyoung, does he realize the pulse comes from between his legs. He cummed, too. This realization makes him smile, though weakly. He stands on shaky legs and hugs Jaebum with unsteady arms. On the way back home, he falls asleep with his head on Jaebum’s shoulder and a hand on his thigh.
He knows that Jaebum is powerful in ways he can’t imagine. He never asks Jaebum about his work directly, or what gives him enough money that every dating marker -- from one-hundred days to their first month -- is punctuated by expensive jewelry. First it’s a ring, Jinyoung’s name inscribed. White gold, a small sapphire embedded into it. Then it’s a mound of flowers that end up in his home and fill his kitchen. Then it’s a necklace with Jaebum’s initials, it’s a bracelet with a palm tree on it.
The only time he ever mentions work is when he has to cancel plans or leave abruptly from their dates or when he abandons Jinyoung in bed to stand in the balcony and talk “business” for what seems like hours.
Only after six months does he ever get a glimpse of what Jaebum does. He hosts a dinner, and asks Jinyoung to help. And by help, he means Jinyoung has to stand near him, has to look pretty. Four men arrive, though none are as young as Jaebum. Jinyoung lights their cigarettes, he tells jokes, he smiles, he laughs. He pours wine in their glasses, he brings food to them, he takes away their plates.
He pretends to be awed when one of them pulls out a gun and puts it in his hand, and Jinyoung feels its weight, his eyes wide, full of surprise. He fingers the latch and the man takes it away, smiling, as if Jinyoung might shoot someone if he isn’t careful.
He knows these are powerful men because each of them arrive with three others, fully armed, expressionless. One stands outside their door, and the rest linger around the room, pressed to wall, as if decor rather than people. When Jinyoung tries to talk to them, they never respond, and Jaebum’s guests laugh.
“Innocent,” they say, and Jinyoung’s cheeks flush with color.
These men are rich, he knows, because their fingers glimmer when they raise their hands, their rings hard to ignore. One, especially, has fingers saturated with rings. He looks gaudy and tacky and Jinyoung wonders if that makes him the leader of the group. There is a ring, in specific, that boasts a fat emerald and gold fittings that look lovely only because of how blatantly expensive it is.
Jinyoung stares from the kitchen, tries to attribute each ring to a life taken. He wonders who has the most guns, who has the most money, the most power. When he lights their cigarettes for the last time, he takes a moment to stare at each man’s hand, and the one with the most rings notices. He makes an offhand comment, something about Jinyoung. He never finds out what it is. He only knows that it makes the men fall quiet, the entire room settles into silence.
He knows these are powerful men, but he knows, too, that Jaebum is more powerful. He knows because two weeks later, on the counter of Jaebum’s apartment, he sees the ring with the emerald again, the finger still attached. A small note says “for your troubles”.
He knows Jaebum pushes his jaw forward when he’s stressed, and when he’s stressed, he’s never in the mood for anything more than brooding. But they have been dating for a year, and Jaebum has taken them to an expensive resort near Havana. But Jinyoung wants something more than a nice view for their anniversary. Yet, no matter how much he prances around in only Jaebum’s button-up, no matter how much he bends over in front of him, or rustles the back of his hair with his fingers, Jaebum doesn’t budge. Sometimes he gives him a quiet smile, though mostly he stares off in the distance looking stressed, worried.
But Jinyoung knows that Jaebum has never been able to resist a shower. So he puts on his bathrobe and checks the clock and makes his way to the window, pretends to look at the view. Then he turns around and Jaebum’s eyes are on him. Jaebum wears slacks that hug his thighs, thick as he sits, spread open, wide. He wears a shirt that’s been buttoned down, his chest on display, and Jinyoung has never wanted him more.
“I’m going to shower,” Jinyoung chimes and makes his way to the bathroom. He knows Jaebum’s eyes are on him -- their intensity has weight and power, so he discards the bathrobe there. He makes sure it lingers around the swollen curve of his ass, so that it pauses, slides down slowly, building anticipation, building hunger. Then he steps inside, heads to the wide shower, turns on the water and wait until it steams and makes the air in the bathroom as thick as a sauna.
He knows that Jaebum will follow soon, and, if he’s timed it correctly, if he’s loud enough, if he fucks Jaebum well enough, then he shouldn’t be able to hear the gunshots in the distance. If he’s timed it correctly, the bodyguards at the elevator should be dead when Jinyoung bounces in Jaebum’s lap, and the one at the door should be dead when he cums over him and the bathroom tiles. Jinyoung knows there are three guns in the room that can help him escape, but, more importantly, he knows how to use them.
Jaebum’s steps echo in the bathroom. Jinyoung wets his hair and he hears him take off his shoes. Jinyoung counts under his breath, and when Jaebum finally emerges, naked and gleaming with sweat, Jinyoung knows he’s just on time.
“Baby,” Jinyoung breathes.
After a year of dating, there are a few things Jaebum has yet to learn about Jinyoung.