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Jeno, by all accounts, loves sex with Renjun.
It’s hard not to love sex with your boyfriend when your boyfriend is Renjun of all people—Jeno knows this. His sex drive still feels stuck in his teenage years, a constant desperation for more always resting inside him and Renjun seems nothing but happy to indulge in that. Renjun’s pretty, and flexible, and he can suck a mean dick—when Donghyuck had first introduced them, he’d called Renjun the ‘Throat Goat Extraordinaire’ five minutes before Jeno had looked him in the eyes for the first time. (Later, when Jeno lets this spill, Donghyuck gets a very heated chain of texts from Renjun. But it’s not like he was lying.)
He should consider himself lucky, really. He’s in his twenties, with a devoted loving boyfriend that can keep up with his constant horniness. He wouldn’t even say their sex life is boring.
The problem is—every once and a while, Jeno finds himself wanting more. It’s the stupid, small things. Jeno’s always in control during sex, always on top, but then sometimes—Renjun will say something a little mean, tease him for being overeager, and something in Jeno’s gut stirs. And for a brief moment, he’ll wish that things were different, that he could hand himself over to Renjun instead.
He’s come to live for the brief moments after sex when Renjun says “You did good tonight,” and the times when they’re in public and Renjun runs a hand down his inner thigh. Little things that fuel all his stupid, horny, fantasies, ones he isn’t even sure how to materialize yet.
Jeno’s happy like they are, he’ll always be as long as he’s with Renjun. But it’s okay to want, right? It’s okay to dream vague dreams of being held down and used and treated as a pretty pet just for Renjun alone, as long as those dreams stay in Jeno’s head far away from where they could ruin things. Make them weird. Control has always been something Jeno’s been expected to take his whole life, yet it seems a symptom of his hopeless lovesickness for Renjun is a desire to relinquish every bit of it—which hurts, because he’s afraid that desire would just mess everything up.
But then, one day, after work, Jeno stumbles into Renjun’s apartment and finds him on the couch. He crawls onto Renjun’s lap, uncaring and just excited to see Renjun, his beautiful Renjun who’s sitting looking all studious and sexy as he reads some book about art history, or whatever. (He’s not really paying attention to anything except getting his body as close to Renjun’s as possible.) Renjun lets Jeno straddle him, and laughs against his lips.
“You’re just like a big dumb lapdog, aren’t you?” Renjun says. “So cute and eager for attention.” He grins at Jeno, eyes twinkling. His tone is teasing and playful, but something ripples inside Jeno, a horrible fast-moving sudden arousal ready to drown him whole.
“Ha…” replies Jeno. It’s stupid how fast his heart is beating, how he can sense the lump in his throat forming. Is that supposed to turn him on? Because it is, there’s just something about the inflection, the implication—his breath comes out short and stuttered as he stares down at Renjun with a face burning red.
“Jeno?” Renjun asks. “You okay?” Jeno doesn’t answer, just devours Renjun’s lips and squeezes the fabric of his shirt in his hands. Renjun makes a noise against his mouth, and then his hand comes down between Jeno’s legs. “You’re hard already,” he comments, surprised.
“Yeah,” mutters Jeno, preferring not to explain himself. The humiliation is too much already, and maybe Renjun can tell because he just unzips Jeno’s jeans with a catty smile.
That night, they fuck and fuck until Renjun’s practically boneless and with each thrust, Jeno tries to chase away all the burning thoughts left in his mind with just one sentence.
—
“I’m close—” Renjun stutters, and his chest heaves, skin glowing under the light of Jeno’s shitty bedside lamp. His legs are folded against his chest, and he’s hot and tight around Jeno like always. It amazes him, the way Renjun can just bend under Jeno’s touch.
“Me too,” Jeno swallows, and Renjun looks up at him, bangs matted all sweaty against his forehead. He can’t even care about coming anymore, just wants to make Renjun feel good, and he tries not to be sloppy, keep his strokes even so that he can get Renjun to crumble apart like always.
Renjun smiles. “Go on, puppy, make me come,” he says, the pet name so hushed that Jeno’s not even sure if he’s heard it right, but it rips through him all the same.
It’s like a lightning bolt up Jeno’s spine, a pathetic gurgle escaping his throat, and he comes, filling up Renjun as he falls forward into his shoulder. His head keeps buzzing, he doesn’t even know if he heard what he thought he heard but it activates something in him again, that all-consuming desire that engulfs him entirely.
Puppy. It keeps ringing in his brain. Puppy. Puppy. Puppy. His hands tremble as they wrap around Renjun’s cock, coaxing him to orgasm too because he can’t forget his promise to make him come. Puppy. Every thought feels fuzzy at the edges.
Puppy.
Jeno pulls out, oversensitive, with a whimper. He feels emptied out, aching, and he wasn’t even the one getting fucked.
“That was fast,” Renjun laughs, brushing his bangs out of his eyes, and he’s pretty, so pretty that it hurts to look at. Jeno swoops down to kiss him. “You liked that.” mumbles Renjun against his lips.
“Liked what?” Jeno says softly, humiliation creeping upon him as the post-sex clarity begins to hit.
(Is it weird that he came right away? Did Renjun really mean to say that? Maybe Jeno misheard, maybe something’s just wrong with him, he’s projecting what he wants onto poor Renjun, and God, this is all two seconds from falling apart.)
Renjun’s lips curl. “Nothing,” he says, and then he scratches at the nape of Jeno’s neck. “You did good.”
Jeno’s heart thrums in desperation.
Puppy.
He lets Renjun pet his hair as he falls asleep that night, the word rolling around in his head over and over.
—
“It’s okay to want things like that, you know,” Jaemin says. As his grin spreads from cheek to cheek, Jeno feels a strong sense of regret. Sharing his personal problems with Jaemin always feels like a coin toss between helpful and mentally damaging. “I always thought you were a little submissive,” he coos, and he pats Jeno’s cheek just to watch him wince in horror.
Jeno looks frantically around him, glancing at the other coffee shop patrons to make sure no one’s heard. “Can you stop talking so loud?” he hisses, and he kicks Jaemin’s shin so hard he almost topples off his chair.
“I’m just saying,” Jaemin steadies himself and leans across the table, resting his chin on his folded hands, “There’s probably a whole world of sexual desire inside you you’ve never unlocked, because you’re too afraid, baby. You know the first time that I ever took it up the ass, I—”
“That’s enough,” Jeno interrupts, massaging his temples. “I don’t want to hear all the nasty details of your sexual escapades.”
“What if I want to hear yours,” Jaemin pouts, and he takes Jeno’s hand in both of his, rubbing his thumbs over Jeno’s knuckles in his typical way-too-intimate Jaemin way. “Jeno Lee, I just want you to fuck and get fucked like you deserve. Renjun loves you, don’t you think he’d want to know about all your little… wants and needs? Your sex life should have some spice!” His voice is getting loud again, loud enough for the barista to give them side-eye, and Jeno wants to sink into the floor.
“No. Our sex life is plenty… spicy,” he frowns, the word just as terrible on his tongue as he imagined.
“But are you getting everything you want?” asks Jaemin, and the question chills Jeno a little. He guesses he is but—it’s complicated. His problem is he doesn’t know what he wants, besides some fucking debauched fantasy of being Renjun’s dog, spurred on by some random offhand comments that made him way too horny, and he certainly can’t tell Jaemin that. He can just imagine all the teasing that would earn, even if Jaemin is 100% the bigger freak out of the two of them. (Jeno’s seen his PornHub search history.)
“I think I am,” he finally responds after way too long of a pause, face screwing up like it can’t decide what expression to make.
Jaemin smiles, and Jeno hates when he smiles like that, because he only does it when he knows something Jeno doesn’t. “Just think about it, Jeno. You shouldn’t be afraid to explore what you want. You know, I have some great sex shop recommendations—”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Jeno interrupts before Jaemin can publicly humiliate him any further. “Forget I even mentioned this to you.” He sips on his iced coffee so that he doesn’t have to look at Jaemin in his terrifying, all-knowing eyes. “You’re the worst person to ask for advice, you know that?”
“But you always do, darling,” Jaemin says, pleased with himself.
Jeno sighs.
—
Something’s changed. It’s like walking on eggshells now, and Jeno is sure Renjun must have realized something, or worse, Jaemin and his stupid big mouth let something slip. Jeno’s just overthinking it, he knows he is. Everything’s perfectly normal, except it isn’t. He’s just trying to pretend it is, at least, because he doesn’t want the fact that he’s maybe discovered he has a weird fetish to ruin everything between him and his perfect angel of a boyfriend.
This weekend, they’ve gone out for a lunch and a ‘shopping’ trip that isn’t really a shopping trip because neither of them have the money to ever afford anything at the places they like to go look around in. It’s fun, though, pretending to be rich for a second, and most of all, it’s the best to watch Renjun excitedly point out every sparkly pretty thing he likes to Jeno and pout and sigh when he sees the price tag.
(Maybe Jeno just likes Renjun, and he’s happy to do whatever he wants. That’s probably why he enjoys it so much.)
“Does this suit me?” Renjun asks, and he holds up a necklace to his chest, just a silver chain with a tiny blue gemstone for a charm. The boutique they’re in is way too bougie for Jeno’s tastes, the kind with way too many plants everywhere and a cashier that doesn’t want to give them the time of day. But Renjun was drawn to the jewelry display in the center, and he’d dragged Jeno in, saying something about how he needs some new statement pieces, whatever that means.
Jeno knows he isn’t going to buy it, they’ve never once bought anything out on their shopping dates besides food and maybe the occasional pair of jeans, but Renjun likes to ask all the same because he knows Jeno will answer.
“Of course,” Jeno says, “but I think everything suits you.”
Renjun smiles, and there’s that weird look in his eyes again, one that Jeno’s been seeing a lot these days. It’s impossible to decipher—some sort of malicious fondness, one of those things that makes Jeno wonder if Renjun somehow knows what’s been rushing through his brain.
Renjun picks another necklace off the display table, and motions Jeno closer.
It’s a choker, black velvet ribbon with a gold ring in the middle, and Renjun pushes Jeno in front of him. He stands on his tip-toes to wrap it around Jeno’s neck, gesturing to the mirror in front of them.
“I think this one suits you,” he says, pulling it taut so it rests against the skin but not fastening it shut.
It’s just a necklace, but it’s so reminiscent of something else, and the sudden directness of Renjun’s movements leave Jeno reeling. Here it comes, like a tidal wave, crashing over Jeno, that painful feeling he still can’t pinpoint. He wants Renjun to grab his neck, to kiss him and push him against the wall, wants it so bad it leaves his brain buzzing and fingers twitching at his sides.
Trying to pull himself together, he swallows, feeling his Adam’s apple push against the ribbon. “I don’t really wear chokers.” His voice is weak.
“I don’t think it’s a choker,” Renjun says, his voice soft and careful. He runs a finger along the ribbon in a manner that feels way too sensual for standing in the middle of a hipster boutique on a Sunday morning. “More like a collar.”
For a second, the words don’t even entirely compute in Jeno’s brain, before they rush over him and he makes a noise, just the tiniest whimper of surprise that leaves him even more humiliated than before. Renjun is looking at him, studying his expression and biting his lip. He seems almost nervous.
“A collar,” Jeno says, afraid his voice could crack like a prepubescent boy if he speaks more. “Yeah.” His reflection is turning tomato-red, and he tries to stop it, but it’s no use. If the blood isn’t going to his face, it’s going to his dick, which right now seems like the worse option. “I—yeah.”
Renjun looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he just sets the necklace down on the display table, and takes Jeno’s hand in his. “We’re going to miss our lunch reservation if we don’t leave,” he says, and Jeno notices the dusting of red on his cheeks.
That night, when Renjun wraps his fingers—gentle, not choking—around Jeno’s neck as he comes, Jeno feels like he’s two seconds away from spontaneous combustion.
—
He needs to talk to Renjun about it. Communication hasn’t ever been something they’ve struggled with before—Jeno’s always been an open person, and Renjun always knows what he wants. It’s nice like that.
But, at the same time, it’s terrifying. Jeno has cried into Renjun’s chest and told him some of his worst secrets and fell on his face during their second date and gave Renjun some of the most uncomfortable dirty talk ever that one time he tried and Renjun’s still here, so why does this one thing feel so hard to reveal?
Despite all of Renjun’s hints that maybe he’s just as into this as Jeno is, Jeno hasn’t even really defined what this is. Submission feels too simple. Pet play sounds too much like a porn category, and BDSM sounds too intense and threatening. He keeps trying to practice out what he’d even say to Renjun in his head, and every time it comes out like the ramblings of a madman.
Hey Renjun, I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel like a brainless mutt and I like that? Maybe? Please pet me. I want you so bad.
Jeno just feels like an idiot. He’d be perfectly happy to go back to missionary sex and hand-holding like before. But then he keeps coming back to all these hints Renjun’s dropping, these tiny nuggets of something else that makes Jeno feel feral, and he starts thinking in circles again.
Sex has been even weirder lately, Renjun cooing good boy when Jeno makes him come and then flushing with embarrassment after, and it leaves Jeno so tangled up inside. Renjun wants this too, right? Or does he not? He wants to tell Renjun he likes it, that it makes his heart burn like a wildfire, but then his tongue gets thick in his throat and the words get stuck because as hard as he tries, he can’t not be humiliated by this all-consuming desire. I love being your good boy, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, sometimes I just wish you could grab ahold of my heart and take it for yourself, Jeno wants to say, but then it comes out as “Mmmgffhghh” against Renjun’s wet mouth and he gives up.
Like right now. Right now, Renjun has Jeno pinned against the bed—which is silly because Renjun is the type of person who complains about walking up a flight of stairs and Jeno’s the one who goes to the gym three times a week—but he has him pinned down, pressing kisses against Jeno’s collarbones anyway as Jeno lies there, as pliant as always. He can’t help it, every time Renjun’s got his hands on him his bones turn to jelly and he can’t move until Renjun tells him to.
He looks up at Renjun’s face, Renjun’s pretty face with those twinkling eyes and kissable lips, the face he trusts to the end of the earth, and he bites his lip. He should just tell him. He should just—
Renjun presses his knee against Jeno’s dick, and even though he’s still in his jeans, the pleasure rushes through him and he whimpers. “You like that?” Renjun asks. “I’m barely touching you.”
“I like it,” Jeno says. “Injunnie—” he starts, and then the words slip away again as Renjun kisses him and shoves his thigh even harder. It just makes Jeno squirm against the bed, and he wants to say something—to beg for more. For that nickname again. For something else, but then he gets distracted because Renjun is now grinding his also-clothed dick against Jeno’s and it’s like Jeno’s train of thought veers right off the tracks and crashes into a ravine.
“You’re so cute,” Renjun says. A pause. He inhales, and bites his lip. “Puppy,” he adds, this time clear as day.
“Wh—” Jeno says, and Renjun ruts against him one more time. Jeno’s way harder than he thought, a little dizzy, and it’s like there's sparks burning behind his eyes.
“My puppy,” Renjun repeats, and that’s just evil.
Jeno comes in his jeans.
He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that Renjun grinding against him felt so good, and his head is spinning, and he’s a little wound up from too much thinking, and the nickname, fuck, the nickname.
Renjun watches in amazement as Jeno trembles, hands instantly going to cover his face in humiliation. This is the worst possible thing that could happen to him, worse than that time he told Renjun his handjob skills were “super dope”.
“Jeno,” starts Renjun.
“Sorry, I—” Jeno swallows.
“That was so fucking hot.” Renjun’s voice is throaty and laced with need, and he dives into a messy kiss with Jeno, fingers undoing his own zipper so he can fist himself to completion. “Do you like that, baby?”
Jeno makes a noise against Renjun’s mouth, because the words are all scrambled inside him again, and even though Renjun is right here, egging him on, there’s still this resting anxiety. Like this is a dream, a very realistic masturbation fantasy.
“Do you want to be my puppy?” Renjun pushes, never one to give up and oh God, Jeno’s going to get hard again at this rate.
“Yeah,” Jeno croaks out. His face falls into Renjun’s shoulder. “Please.”
With little finesse, he pushes away Renjun’s hand and replaces it with his own. The noise Renjun makes when he comes after just a few short strokes makes Jeno wonder if maybe he’s not the only one so deeply affected.
A silence overtakes the two of them, and Jeno stares up at Renjun, his face so hot that he thinks his skin will melt right off, catching his breath. Reality comes crashing down on him, and he becomes acutely aware of all the sticky jizz on the inside of his jeans and the way Renjun is staring at him, face just as flushed as his.
Renjun blinks. “We can talk about it more later.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against Jeno’s, and then presses a gentle kiss to his lips.
Jeno just nods and lets Renjun crawl off his lap, head still spinning.
—
The thing with Renjun is, he doesn’t really “talk about” things. He just does them.
(Jeno first learned this when he came to Renjun’s place and realized Renjun had bought an extra toothbrush and the shampoo Jeno uses and put them in his bathroom without saying anything. When Jeno had asked, Renjun had just made a noncommittal noise and said something about convenience, and that was that—but it stuck with Jeno. The idea that Renjun wanted him in his home.)
He’s learning it now, when Renjun hands him a black box over the dinner table a week after the whole Jeno-coming-in-his-pants incident and says, “Open it.”
Jeno flushes.
“What’s this?” he asks. It’s a fruitless question. Renjun doesn’t like to explain himself, and he seems nervous with the way his feet tap against the floor.
“It can be nothing,” Renjun says, mouth making a thin line, and he stacks his silverware on his plate to find something to do with his hands. “Or something. It depends how you feel about it.”
Jeno cocks his head in confusion, feeling an odd pit in his stomach, but he lifts the lid off the box anyway.
It’s a collar.
It’s made of black leather, simple in design, nothing too complex, but just looking at the thing goes straight to Jeno’s dick, memories of the boutique incident a few weeks ago flooding his brain. Attached, coiled around the collar like a snake, is a leash, which clips onto the collar's metal ring. Jeno hadn’t even considered a leash, but now that he is, he can start to hear his heartbeat in his ears.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” Renjun says. His ears are red. “Maybe I was picking up on the wrong things, and we’ve never done anything kinky or whatever, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable—”
“It’s for me?” Jeno asks, and he can’t help but pull the collar from the box, hold it in his hands. The texture of the leather, the weight of it in his hands—it makes arousal churn inside him, fierce and wanting.
“To wear.” Renjun’s voice shakes at the edges. “If you want to be my puppy.”
There’s a dam holding back a tidal wave inside Jeno, and it just breaks. “I want it,” he says. “I want it so bad, Renjun.”
“I do too.” Renjun’s face is baked in embarrassment, but his eyes are dark, and for the first time, Jeno feels like he truly knows not just what he wants, but what Renjun wants too.
When Jeno surges over the table to kiss him, he gets ketchup from his plate on his favorite sweater. It’s worth it, though, for the delicious relief that comes with Renjun’s lips on his.
—
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Renjun says. He looks so pretty, standing between Jeno’s spread legs with that huge white shirt sloping off his shoulders. The air smells like vanilla and sea salt from the scented candle he lit, always one for setting a mood.
Jeno’s eyes trace the hickies he left on Renjun’s collarbones a week ago as his fingers circle the back of Renjun’s thighs. “I know.”
“You can always back out if you want—”
“It goes the same for you.” Jeno swallows. “But I… I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
Renjun smiles down at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. I wanna be your dog, Renjun.” Speaking aloud this thought that’s been festering inside him for months—it’s a relief as much as it is an embarrassment. But Renjun’s expression is heady with lust, and it makes Jeno feel safe, somehow, to know that his weird desires just make him more wanted.
“Jesus Christ, Jeno,” Renjun mutters. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?” teases Jeno. His fingers creep up the back of Renjun’s loose shorts until his hand gets swatted away. Something about this feels like back when they first started dating, when they were still running in circles, testing what they wanted from each other. It’s new. Fresh. Jeno likes it so much.
“You know why.” Renjun’s fingers find their way to Jeno’s chin, and he tips it up towards him. Jeno hopefully pushes out his lips for a kiss, but then Renjun lets go and steps away, towards the dresser. Jeno mourns the loss, hands making a weak attempt at grabbing Renjun’s thighs before he slips from his hold. “Should we get that collar on you then, puppy?”
“Please,” Jeno pleads. He’s grounded in his place sitting at the foot of the bed, awash with the power that one word holds over him. His dick is already at a half-chub, mostly because Renjun had shoved his tongue down his throat earlier and Jeno is weak. Something like that.
The collar comes out of the box on the dresser like it’s a prized treasure. The leash stays in there, for now. One thing at a time, Jeno supposes. Whenever Renjun’s on the receiving end, he’s usually so impatient, greedy for touch, but now that he’s holding the power, he seems to want to take his time. It’s delicious, delicious torture.
“Shirt over your head,” Renjun orders. Jeno follows as fast as he can, fingers scrambling to tear it off, and he throws it with a thud against the wall of Renjun’s bedroom, perhaps harder than he needs to. “Eager, are we?”
“Can’t help it,” Jeno mumbles, as Renjun crawls on top of his lap again. It feels so familiar yet it’s a whole other beast, especially when Renjun undoes the clasp of the collar and wraps it around Jeno’s throat.
Jeno’s tried the collar on, earlier this week, too curious to wait. He’d taken it from the box and tightened it around his neck, staring at himself in the mirror of Renjun’s vanity until Renjun had caught him there and practically sucked the soul out of his dick until Jeno’s legs couldn’t hold him up anymore. He knows it looks good on him, black leather against the column of his throat. But there’s something so different about this, about Renjun’s small little fingers securing it there, like it’s an extension of himself he’s wrapping around Jeno’s neck.
Like Jeno is his—and that's all Jeno can ask for, isn’t it?
“Suits you so well.” Renjun’s voice is soft, and he kisses the mole under Jeno’s eye. “My perfect boy.”
Jeno’s heart melts, like it’s going to fall out of the slats of his ribcage and onto the floor. “Ah,” he says, voice nothing but a squeak because he’s currently trapped between hopeless romanticism and desperate horniness. “Renjun.” He grabs at Renjun’s wrist. “I love you.”
Renjun chews his lip, looking away in embarrassment. “You’re a real boner-killer, Jeno Lee.” He inhales, pressing fingers down the line between Jeno’s pecs, so close to his heartbeat. “Love you too. Now go lie down.”
Nodding so hard his neck might break, Jeno lets Renjun off him and scrambles further down the bed. Renjun grabs the leash off the dresser, and drops it at the foot of the bed, where it sits, just waiting. Waiting to be put on Jeno, to guide him—though Renjun already has a leash on Jeno anyway, in the metaphorical sense, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“What do you want?” Renjun asks. Not in an accusatory way, just genuine.
Jeno gulps. The thing is—he wants to not want. He wants to relinquish all this control, he wants to hand himself over to Renjun entirely, but that sounds a little too weird, so he just says, “Want you to decide, Renjun, please.”
Renjun crawls onto the bed, across the sheets and over Jeno, arms squaring him in. He’s so small, Jeno knows this, but he overwhelms him somehow, makes Jeno feel like the tiny, delicate one. “You want me to tell you what to do, puppy?”
“Yeah,” Jeno breathes out. He can sense Renjun is maybe nervous still, and so he finds Renjun’s hand, locks it with his. “Please. I trust you.” He does, he really does, and he can’t find the words for it, not now or ever, when he’s staring into Renjun’s eyes like this. “Take me however you want.” Jeno’s hands are shaking a little, and Renjun is looking back at him with such a profound adoration that Jeno wishes he could just sink into the bed, bathe in it. “Use me.”
“Fuck,” Renjun says. “Jeno, you’re so—” He doesn’t finish, just kisses him all hot and hungry. Jeno likes how he tastes like chapstick and mouthwash and how he smells like that perfume he applies every hour, and most of all Jeno likes how he’s all his. Or more accurately, Jeno’s all Renjun’s, and it makes him feel like every one of the neurons in his fizzling horndog brain is about to implode.
He tries to slide a hand up Renjun’s shirt, but lets out a whimper of surprise when it’s pushed down. “No touching unless I say so,” Renjun says, and he seems different. The way he looks down at Jeno now, lips spit-slick and eyes dark—it’s like he’s a predator, waiting to devour.
Jeno tries to rest his hands at his sides, but he’s always been a fidgeter, so he plays with the sheets, staring at Renjun and just waiting. “Are we—” he starts, and then Renjun places a hand at his neck, finger looping through the collar’s ring.
“Patience, dog.”
Oh God. Jeno’s going to die—he’s going to die right here, in bed, in Renjun’s hold. A noise squeaks from inside him and his dick is way past half-chub at this point, straining against his shorts. If Renjun can see it, he isn’t commenting on it, choosing just to play his fingers along Jeno’s neck, tugging on the collar just to listen to the soft noises choking from Jeno’s chest.
Then Renjun leans back and grabs the leash, and fuck, Jeno completely forgot about the leash. Perhaps he was too distracted by staring at Renjun’s exposed chest that he can see through the hanging neckline of his shirt, or maybe it was the weight of the collar on his neck, but either way there’s a leash, and Renjun is going to put it on him. Jeno’s not strong enough for this.
Renjun straddles Jeno, ass now in the danger zone of closeness to Jeno’s dick, and he holds the leash between his hands, pulling it so it goes taut. Jeno has some depraved thought about Renjun pressing the leather against his neck until he can’t breathe, but he chases that away as quick as it comes. He wants to touch, so bad that it hurts to not raise his hands and run them along Renjun’s thighs. Renjun usually lets Jeno be so touchy during sex, encourages the marks that litter his skin afterward, and to have it torn from him like this—it’s like being edged, and his dick hasn’t even been tocuhed.
“Renjun…” he says. His voice is so quiet, and Renjun looks down at him with a smile. It’s not warm and affectionate like before, there’s something new there. Whatever that something is, Jeno wants it to consume him. “Can I touch a little?”
“No.” Renjun reaches around to the back of Jeno’s neck, and the press of fingers there tells Jeno to sit up, balancing on his elbows. “You have to prove that you’re good first, don’t you?”
“Guh,” Jeno says with all the intelligence his horny little brain can muster. “I mean—yes. Yes. I can. I can.”
“That’s right.” Renjun tilts his head, smiling again, wearing the kind of expression usually reserved for when Jeno does something cute or makes a stupid joke. Here, right now, with Renjun collaring him—it doesn’t carry the same meaning anymore. It’s something far more dangerous, something that burns down Jeno’s spine and makes him shake.
Renjun takes the leash, and gently, he clips it to the ring on Jeno’s collar, giving it an experimental tug. The sensation of being pulled towards Renjun jolts Jeno, makes him feel even more desperate than before.
Hand running up Jeno’s chest until a finger flicks against a nipple, Renjun seems to revel in it, suspending Jeno in his grasp. “Feel okay?” he asks, and Jeno’s never been quicker to nod.
“Renjun, I want—”
“I thought you didn’t want to decide, puppy,” Renjun interjects, and Jeno stops right there, because he doesn’t want to decide at all, he just—Renjun is right there and it’s so unfair that he can’t just touch him.
Jeno drops his head against the pillows. “Just want you.” There’s tension against his throat for a moment before Renjun loosens his grip on the leash, and it feels so good. It really shouldn’t, but Jeno is learning that with Renjun everything that shouldn’t feel good does anyway.
Renjun’s hand still dances across Jeno’s bare torso, then up his neck, before gripping at his chin with a sudden firmness. A thumb presses against his bottom lip, and Jeno can’t help it—his mouth falls open.
“Aww, does the puppy want something in his mouth?” Renjun asks, and Jeno thinks this is probably the moment his entire mental state fractures into pieces, if it wasn’t broken before. Renjun is looking at him, eyes asking if this is okay, and Jeno doesn’t really know what to say, so he just flicks his tongue against the tip of Renjun’s finger, trying to lap at it. Wrist turning, Renjun pulls back his thumb and then pushes two of his other fingers into Jeno’s mouth. “I forgot,” he says, a little mean, “dogs can’t talk, can they?”
Jeno feels fucking crazy. His bones ache with a festering desire, far beyond a need to please. His hips jerk up, begging for some sort of friction as Renjun’s fingers press against his tongue and drool slides from his lips. It’s too much, yet it’s nothing at all, and Jeno feels strung so thin he could snap at any moment.
Renjun’s fingers press against Jeno’s teeth, smear spit against his lips, and then pull away. “You like this a lot, don’t you?” he asks, and Jeno realizes he’s not talking about just the fingers-in-mouth, but all of it. Jeno being collared, Renjun on top of him whispering his sweet, teasing words, being taken and used and ordered around and treated like a dog. How is Jeno supposed to respond, really, to a question like that, when it means everything to him, and when he’s so dazed with lust.
He just nods, and rolls his hips again, hopeless.
Renjun laughs, and it’s so mean. “I like it too, puppy. Maybe even more than I thought.” He reaches over and grabs the lube off the bedside table, and Jeno’s breath hitches. “Who would have thought,” Renjun continues, peeling off his shorts, “that my Jeno would end up being such a good dog for me.”
Jeno is dizzy, and he watches as Renjun pours lube onto his own fingers. He wants to finger him open, stretch him nice and ready, but Renjun doesn’t let him, opting to slide a hand behind his back and tease himself open instead. Just making Jeno watch, like the evil bastard he is.
“You know how they talk about you, right?” Renjun asks. “Jeno, beautiful handsome Jeno. They think you’re so strong, that you have it all in control.” His breathing is a little ragged as he pushes his first finger in—Jeno knows his own would fill Renjun better, but he can’t touch, not when he promised to be good. “It’s funny. No one knows you like I do, Jeno. They don’t know how to break you down like I can. They don’t know how desperate you are to please.”
“Renjun,” Jeno whines. His fingers feel ready to rip through the fabric of the sheets at this point. Renjun has one arm caging him in, shaking with effort as the other reaches behind and fucks himself open. The leash lies abandoned against Jeno’s chest, and he can’t help but miss the security that comes with Renjun holding it. “Can I do it, please, let me do it for you?”
Renjun’s thighs are shaking now, right as he pushes a second finger in, and his eyes are closed, biting his lip as he tries to reach somewhere he just can’t. Jeno knows his fingers are twice as long, twice as thick, that he could make Renjun crumble without effort, and it pains him not to be able to.
“Since you’ve been good,” Renjun exhales, “You can.” His expression is dazed, fragility breaking through for a fleeting moment. This the Renjun Jeno’s more used to during sex, a little needy, delicate, and Jeno loves that Renjun too. (Maybe he just loves Renjun.)
The permission makes Jeno rocket up into the sitting position, his hands flying to Renjun’s sides as quick as he can muster. He fumbles for the lube, puddling it on his fingers messy and quick. He doesn’t want to wait, wants to be inside Renjun as fast as possible. It feels so good to touch skin to skin, and he runs a hand along Renjun’s thigh for a moment, relishing in it, pushing his fingertips into the flesh and wishing he could leave marks there just by pressing.
“Don’t be greedy, puppy,” chastises Renjun, and he grips at Jeno’s hand, dragging it between his legs. “You have someone to take care of.”
Shaking a little, Jeno finds his first finger slides into Renjun with no problem. He’s already slick with lube, but it still feels a little tight, and Jeno can’t help but feel proud of himself when Renjun instantly moans.
“Is it good?” he asks.
Renjun nods, squeezing his eyes shut. “Another finger. I’m not going to break.” He pulls at the leash, hard, and Jeno almost faceplants into Renjun’s shoulder. Jeno takes this as an opportunity to mouth softly there, leaving wet kisses against the skin of his neck, teeth just barely grazing the surface. Gentle bites, nothing too harsh.
When the second finger slides in, Renjun properly gasps. It’s with this that Jeno realizes just how hard Renjun is, how turned on he must be too. It eggs him on, a sort of animalistic pride in knowing that it’s all because of him, and he thrusts his fingers harder, scissoring them until Renjun’s breath comes out in short pants.
“Fuck—your stupid big hands,” Renjun complains, but he’s rolling down against Jeno’s fingers all the same. His free hand wraps around the back of Jeno’s neck, toying with the leather of the collar again, fingers dancing across Jeno’s nape.
“You like them,” Jeno mutters against his neck, already teasing a third finger against Renjun’s hole.
He makes a choking noise when Renjun grabs at his hair and tugs, and he bites down on Renjun’s shoulder with the shock of it. “Don’t get mouthy. Do your job.”
Jeno hates how red it makes him all over, how that only makes his dick strain even harder against his briefs. “Yes, Renjun,” he says, and presses the third finger in. Renjun comes apart for him so easy—the hiss of breath from between his teeth as Jeno rubs against his prostate says enough. Jeno teeths over Renjun’s collarbone, letting Renjun dig his fingers even harsher against his scalp.
“Fill me up so well, puppy,” Renjun mutters, and he uses the leash to pull Jeno up, away from where he’s nuzzled into his shoulder. He kisses Jeno with a passion Jeno’s never felt from him before—frenzied with need, teeth biting into Jeno’s bottom lip. “God, you’re so good. So fucking good. Take them out, I’m—I’m ready.”
As Jeno pulls his fingers out, Renjun trails kisses down his jawline, his neck, and it leaves Jeno floating, suspended in a state of utter devotion, an eagerness to please and to be taken from. It all comes back to this—wanting Renjun to take him apart entirely, all the way down to his bones.
“What do I do?” Jeno asks. “I want to make you feel good.” He pauses. His mouth is wet, his heartbeat is pounding in his ears, and his dick is so, so, hard. “Please.”
Renjun’s flushed red, all the way back to his ears. He lets go of the leash again, and slides his shirt off. Jeno lets himself admire the pretty line of his waist, but doesn’t touch. He knows the rules now.
“You let me ride you,” Renjun says, and he pushes Jeno down against the pillows again, and then with no haste he yanks off Jeno’s shorts. “Can you handle that?”
“Definitely,” blurts Jeno, trying to keep his composure as Renjun fondles his cock through his briefs. Just the slightest pressure on his dick makes sparks run across his nerves, and he wonders how long he’ll even manage to last once he gets inside Renjun.
“You’re so hard already,” Renjun hums, pulling the briefs off next. He runs his hand along Jeno’s length just once, and the most embarrassing noise leaks out of Jeno’s throat like some sort of dying animal.
Renjun just laughs, a true fondness beyond the limits of whatever scene they’ve constructed here, and Jeno remembers that this Renjun above him about to destroy him sexually is his Renjun. The Renjun who tells the waiter that Jeno didn’t get his side order of fries when Jeno is too scared to ask, and the Renjun who sulks and makes cute noises to get his way and the Renjun who has to ask Jeno ten times if his outfit is okay before they leave for a date.
Oh God, Jeno’s about to nut his brains out inside Renjun, and all he can think about is how in love he is.
Renjun leans over him, one hand on Jeno’s dick. “Stop looking at me like that.”
His thumb circles the head, and Jeno jerks. “Sorry.”
Renjun presses a quick kiss to his lips, and Jeno melts. “Renjun…” he starts, a slew of emotions ready to exit his mouth, but then all of a sudden Renjun is positioning himself over Jeno’s dick, and any last trace of rational thought exits his brain. “Oh, please,” he says, feeling Renjun grab the leash again.
Then, Renjun sinks down right onto his cock, and Jeno loses himself.
It always feels so good, getting inside Renjun. He’s so hot and tight and perfect, fits Jeno just right, and after all that teasing foreplay, it feels so much better. It’s as if he’s been scraped raw down to the core of lust inside him, and he can feel Renjun in his entirety now.
“Fuck,” Renjun groans. “Fuck. You’re so big. Every time.” Like this, on top of Jeno, he’s beautiful, hair in his eyes again, the traces of Jeno’s earlier marking on his neck, skin glowing warm and red. “And it’s all just for me, huh?”
Jeno gets out a “Yeah,” and it sounds so fragile and small. He must sound so needy, must look so pathetic pressed against the pillows with the collar around his neck.
“Love seeing you like this, puppy,” Renjun mutters, and he rolls his hips. Jeno tries to meet him, to thrust upward, but Renjun stops him with a jerk of the leash. “No. You can touch, but you let me do the work. Or is my mutt too dumb to understand?”
That cuts right through Jeno, a searing hot knife to his skin that sends desire burning through him. “M’not,” he pants, and he puts his hands on Renjun’s waist, not moving, just gripping on tight like he’s drowning and Renjun is the last thing keeping him afloat.
“You’re not,” reassures Renjun. “You’re my good boy.” He starts to move for real—it’s been a while since he rode Jeno like this, and Jeno’s forgotten how good it feels. The grind of his cock inside Renjun is a different kind of pleasure than he gets from just fucking Renjun like normal—it’s volcanic, slow, engulfing. Every instinct in Jeno is screaming at him to take control and start fucking Renjun like he deserves, but it’s the fight against that instinct that feels so good. To refuse to take control.
Renjun moves faster now, starting to raise himself up and drop back down onto Jeno’s cock, the noises coming from his mouth getting a little more wanton and desperate. He digs a hand into Jeno’s torso, fingernails pressing sharp into the skin, and some foul part of Jeno hopes they leave marks that never fade. He wants more than the collar—proof of Renjun’s ownership of him all over. He’ll bring that up next time, he supposes.
The leash pulls at Jeno with a harsh tug, and Jeno uses his core strength alone to lift himself up to Renjun’s face and let Renjun kiss him. He’s met with a surprise, when instead of Renjun’s lips, he’s met with his thumb, pressing into his mouth as Renjun grabs at his face. Renjun’s fingernails scrape against Jeno’s jawline, and his thumb rubs along his gums, and is this supposed to feel so fucking good, or is Jeno just crazy?
Jeno makes a garbled sound, and lets Renjun push him back down, put him in his place. Renjun lets go of the leash—perhaps he knows he doesn’t need it anymore, though did he ever need it anyway—and it flops against Jeno’s chest.
As Renjun drags a spit-smeared thumb down Jeno’s chin, Jeno realizes with utter panic that he’s a lot closer to coming than he thought. His hands squeeze tight against Renjun’s skin like it’ll hold back the orgasm from hitting him.
“Renjun—” he starts, his chest heaving, “I think I’m gonna—”
“So impatient. Can’t hold on for me?” Renjun asks, and how the hell can he still be so cocky and teasing when he’s riding the life out of Jeno’s dick like this? “Such a foolish dog.” He leans down low, breath fanning across Jeno’s face. “Want me to call you a dumb mutt again? Stupid puppy? My stupid puppy, my special boy?”
That’s what breaks Jeno. His orgasm tears right through him, and he comes, spilling hot inside Renjun. His hands fly to his face, covering it as a litany of apologetic noises fall out of his mouth.
“S-sorry,” Jeno stutters out, humiliated. “It just— I just—” His hips are still twitching, oversensitivity plaguing his whole body as his dick sits inside Renjun.
When he peeks between his fingers, Renjun is just gazing at him, fond. He lifts himself off Jeno’s dick, and Jesus fucking Christ, Jeno can see his come start to drip it’s way down Renjun’s thighs.
“It’s okay,” Renjun whispers. “Couldn’t control yourself, huh? Still need to be trained?”
“Fuck, Renjun, I just came, don’t do this to me—” Jeno mumbles.
Renjun laughs. “You still gotta take care of me.” His tone is sweet, but it’s a command. “You’ll be good, right?”
Despite the fuzziness of Jeno’s brain right now, he still can never fail a command for Renjun—really all he wants is to prove himself. “Of course. Always for you.”
“Such a romantic,” Renjun mutters, embarrassment across his face, and to combat this, he just tugs on the leash again, pulling Jeno’s lips to his.
It takes a few seconds of reshuffling, but Renjun swaps their places, leaning against the pillows and spreading his legs. He’s ethereal, and Jeno still can see the marks of his release between Renjun’s thighs, and he just—it’s like his brain blanks out looking at Renjun sometimes, not even able to process how perfect he is.
“Well?” Renjun asks. “What are you waiting for, puppy?”
Jeno lets that desire that’s been chasing him this whole time consume him. Here he is, finally ready to serve his purpose. To be good for Renjun. There’s nothing that fills him with as much determination as making Renjun feel good does. Scrambling into place, he settles between Renjun’s legs, lying flat and taking his thighs in his hands.
“Can I…?” he asks, trailing off.
“You can do whatever you want. Just make me come,” Renjun commands, and there’s a shake to his voice Jeno didn’t notice before. He needs this, needs to come, and Jeno has to do this for him. He just has to.
His face is between Renjun’s thighs now—one of his favorite places to be, he thinks. Not so distracted by coming now, he can take his time, be more careful, and so he nips his teeth against the skin of Renjun’s inner thigh, trying to suck a hickey there. He’s stopped, however, by the yank of the leather around his neck.
“Don’t play around.” Renjun’s looking down at him, eyes blown wide. “I can’t wait, please.”
Jeno nods, breathless, and he fumbles for a pillow, pushing it under Renjun’s back with shaky hands, the tension of the leash holding him the entire time. It’s so good like this. It’s so good being controlled.
He hooks Renjun’s legs over his shoulder, and without finesse, he licks along his perineum. Renjun tastes mostly like lube and salt and smells a bit like that fancy Lush shower gel he’s always using, and Jeno loves it, loves being so close to Renjun like this, smothered by him. He laps his tongue around Renjun’s hole, and Renjun shakes.
“Oh God.” His voice cracks. “Jeno.”
Jeno doesn’t answer, not like he could anyway, and emboldened by some filthy, foul part of him, he licks his own come out of Renjun. There’s never been any finesse to how he eats Renjun out—when he does it, it’s sloppy and quick, and Renjun likes that, Jeno thinks. Likes how messy Jeno is willing to get for him.
“You’re so fucking—” Renjun bites back a moan, hands fisting in Jeno’s hair. Jeno has to press his hands into Renjun’s thighs to keep him from thrashing around too much. “—nasty, Jeno, Jesus Christ.” That’s how Jeno knows Renjun’s really gone, no more pet names or talk.
Renjun is so wet already with spit and lube, but Jeno shoves his own fingers in his mouth and gets them wet anyway, just for show, just to watch Renjun’s facial expression twist. Renjun jerks the leash, biting his lip, and Jeno smiles up at him all dazed as he pushes two fingers into Renjun.
“Bad dog,” whines Renjun. Jeno laughs, he doesn’t even know what’s funny, maybe this entire situation of being trapped between Renjun’s legs, bound by a leash—yet he can’t help but love it. He wants to be here forever, tied to Renjun, serving him until the end.
Then Jeno swallows Renjun’s cock all the way. He’s no Throat Goat Extraordinaire, but he’s sucked a few dicks in his day, and it’s been so long since he’s had Renjun’s in his mouth. The ache of his jaw, the way his throat burns, it’s fucking amazing, and he doesn’t want it to stop.
He stares up at Renjun, twists his fingers inside him, and slides off his cock for a second. “Fuck m’mouth,” he says, half-slurred because he’s so far gone, an ache inside him that’s desperate to be filled.
“Fuck,” Renjun hisses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah Jeno baby, you got it.” Jeno licks down his length again, finding an odd comfort in his mouth being full. Renjun yanks tight at Jeno’s hair, pulls on the leash, and Jeno feels like he’s being pulled by strings, taken apart, as Renjun’s hips jerk forward into his mouth.
He keeps trying to finger Renjun through it, but it’s too much thinking, trying to do that and keep up with the erratic way Renjun’s fucking into him, so he slides his fingers out. There’s tears watering at the corners of his eyes, maybe it’s because his throat is being fucked raw, or maybe it’s because he’s so overwhelmed by getting what he wanted all along. It doesn’t really matter. He just revels in this: the way Renjun arches his back as he chases his orgasm, the spit sliding down his chin, his breath tightening in his lungs as Renjun yanks the collar by way of the leash, and the pretty, pretty face Renjun makes when he’s so lost in ecstasy that he can’t think.
“I’m gonna come,” Renjun pants, and he lets go of the leash, puts both his hands in Jeno’s hair, cradling his head. Jeno doesn’t pause, doesn’t pull away—he’s going to see this through, draw every last drop out of Renjun. His tongue drags along the underside of Renjun’s cock, and Renjun comes down his throat in an instant. Even then, Jeno doesn’t relent, keeps going until Renjun has to pull him off with force, limbs trembling.
Jeno meets Renjun’s eyes. He can’t imagine how he looks, between Renjun’s legs. Tears rim his eyes, his mouth is red and covered in spit, and he’s panting, trying to catch his breath with the sudden emptiness of his throat. He looks wrecked, he bets, and he likes that.
“Holy fuck, Jeno,” Renjun says. He’s still holding Jeno’s head, but he moves his hands to his face, and rubs at Jeno’s leaking eyes with one of his thumbs.
“You’re welcome,” manages Jeno. His voice is hoarse in a satisfying way, reminding him of how stretched thin he is. Face falling against Renjun’s thigh, he presses a kiss there. A steady hand strokes at his hair, and he sighs. “Felt so good, Renjun.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“I’m glad. Was worried it would be too much.”
“Never too much. Not with you,” Jeno sighs. “Can I say I love you again?”
Renjun lets out a worn-out laugh. “You always can.”
“I love you,” Jeno mumbles, voice vibrating against Renjun’s skin.
“Love you too. Shall we take a bath?”
—
Renjun takes the collar off for Jeno before they get in the bath. It leaves a mark against his skin,
a band of red around his neck. As for Renjun, he’s just left with Jeno’s persistent hickies and bite marks that litter his shoulders.
“I’ll have to wear a turtleneck to work tomorrow,” he complains as he sinks into the tub.
“Does that mean I can bite you even more?” Jeno teases, and Renjun just rolls his eyes.
There’s a few quiet minutes of the two of them just sitting there, Renjun sitting against Jeno’s chest and lacing their fingers together, the warm water lapping at their skin. As much as Jeno loves frenzied sex with Renjun, he loves this too—the moments of just the two of them, together, enjoying each other’s company. That’s why he fell for Renjun in the first place, because even when there’s silence between them, it feels comfortable.
“You know,” Renjun says, leaning his head against Jeno, “if there’s ever anything you want to do with me, or try, you just should ask.”
Jeno swallows, embarrassed. “I know… I should’ve just said something.” He pouts. “But you should’ve too! Instead of just—teasing me like that!”
Renjun grins, catlike. “But you’re so fun to tease.” He turns around, and puts a hand on Jeno’s neck, tracing a finger over the faded imprint of the collar. “Right, puppy?”
Unable to stop himself, Jeno makes a whimpering noise, grabbing at Renjun’s wrist. “Not fair.”
“Just saying.” Renjun just kisses against Jeno’s neck instead, and Jeno squirms under him, water splashing against the edges of the tub. “You have to communicate with me. I promise whatever you want, I won’t think it’s weird. We all have desires. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jeno kisses Renjun, no hunger or repressed passion with it this time, just genuine affection. “Love you.”
“You know, if you say it that much, it’ll lose it’s meaning,” Renjun says. Jeno just frowns at him, and Renjun lets out a joking exasperated sigh. “Ugh. Love you too, puppy.”
“Your puppy,” Jeno adds, nuzzling into Renjun’s neck.
He can feel Renjun smiling, even if he can’t see it. “My puppy.”