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Seokjin has had front row tickets to a lot of shows before - that was one of the privileges of being born in a wealthy family. Theater, opera, ballet, he used them all as a way to escape his bland reality, to entertain his imagination and the tiny bit of happiness it brought him.
However, he never thought he would ever have the opportunity to attend this type of show.
He felt his saliva starting to thicken inside his mouth as soon as Namjoon guided him to one of the couches nearest to the stage. The dominant’s arm wrapped around his waist by reflex, a silent reminder that he was not alone, so he turned around and smiled in the other’s direction, trying to hide the nervousness he was feeling. He asked for a glass of sparkling water as soon as the waiter came around and inched closer to Namjoon when some of the lights went out, his eyes immediately moving to the stage.
“Is there any etiquette to these shows?”
The dominant burst into husky chuckles at his question. “You mean like clapping after one of them orgasms?” The silly suggestion managed to dissolve some of the tension Jin was feeling, encouraging an adorable pout to appear on his lips. Namjoon kissed it softly before continuing. “That’s innovative, you should ask Jimin what he thinks about it later.”
“You’re being mean,” Seokjin whispered and looked away, feeling his cheeks heating slightly.
“You like it when I’m being mean to you,” the taller man murmured against his ear, the hand resting on the blond’s side starting to move up and down, tantalizing. He would have never maliciously poked fun at Jin for asking BDSM-related questions, not when he took it upon himself to become his mentor; he liked to believe that during the few months they spent in their current dynamic, Jin got to know him well enough to understand that this type of teasing only existed to elicit a reaction. It was not a secret that there were few things Namjoon found more delightful than making his new submissive blush.
“Only inside the bedroom, sir ,” Seokjin said lowly before innocently thanking the waiter who was back with their order. He knew Namjoon would not let that statement slide and truth be told, he couldn’t wait to go into more detail about it. Later, in the privacy of the dominant’s playroom.
“Alphabet” seemed to have a full house and something told Jin that the public scene they were going to attend was the main reason for that. If Namjoon had said anything else after the waiter had left, the older man didn’t hear him, his pulse becoming deafening as soon as he noticed the two people in the middle of the stage. It was the second time he was inside the club, and everything was just as hypnotizing. He didn’t know what to focus on - the dominant’s clear exercise of power as he ordered his submissive around, the lively buzzing surrounding him or the stack of sex toys put on display.
The first thing that grabbed Jin’s attention was the fact that the sub was completely naked while the dominant was fully clothed, his caramel-colored backside and thighs covered in almost-healed bruises. He had a simple, black leather strap around his neck, one that the other man tugged on unhindered whenever he told him to change his position so their guests would see him better.
“It would be a sin to hide such a pretty body,” the dominant said as he forced the boy into a kneeling position and spread his thighs wider, offering the audience the opportunity to see every bit of him. “Is there anything you’d like to ask them?”
The submissive nodded, just in time for a black gloved hand to slide down his chest and abdomen and wrap around his soft member. “Please watch me,” he whispered, his breathing hitched.
The grey-haired boy looked mortified, his cheeks and chest flushed as the other man stroked him slowly, whispering God-knows-what in his ear. Seokjin tried to put himself in his shoes, to imagine that he was the one being put on display, and felt a cold shiver running down his spine. When he decided to take active steps towards becoming a member of the community, he settled that he was going to keep his mind open, but even like that, he considered this degree of exhibitionism to be on the extreme end of the spectrum. It was not something he saw himself doing after only a few months of being a submissive.
“He looks embarrassed,” he whispered after a little while, his eyes still glued to the stage.
Namjoon chuckled softly next to him. “Taehyung?” His inquiry received a hum. “Don’t let yourself be fooled. Exhibitionism is one of his top kinks, he thrives on being watched and shared.” The word ending the sentence seemed to have intrigued Jin because he immediately turned his head in his direction.
“Shared?” Namjoon couldn’t mean -
“Shared,” the dominant repeated, his eyes gleaming playfully. “Remember our conversation on objectification?” That discussion took place the same day they went through their contract, as Namjoon had his reasons to believe that his new sub was service oriented. Seokjin wanted to feel useful, to feel seen; the idea of someone using his body for sexual gratification was nothing short of thrilling. “When he is in subspace, Taehyung loves to be reduced to a sex toy. He loves to put on a show, and Yoongi gets high on his pretty little sub screaming his name while having someone else’s dick inside of him.”
The blond’s eyebrows arched in disbelief. He was aware that there were thousands of nuances and dynamics when it came to BDSM but somehow, the difference between people’s preferences still managed to blow his mind.
On the stage, Taehyung was already moaning in pleasure. His wrists and ankles were shackled, a spreader bar making sure he wasn’t squirming around too much as Yoongi continued to stroke him, reminding him from time to time that he wasn’t allowed to cum. The dominant’s tone was calm, almost indifferent to the loud noises his touches were the reason for.
Seokjin knew that he couldn’t have handled Namjoon acting so cold during their scenes.
The silver-haired boy was now fully erected, the tip of his member an angry shade of red, the beads of precum gathered on it glistening in the warm light. His size was impressive so Jin couldn’t hold back from asking: “Is Taehyung exclusively a bottom?”
The dominant shook his head, grinning. “That would be a shame.”
Whenever Yoongi was not treating his submissive with simulated disinterest, he was treating him almost cruelly. Everything about the scene was calculated, done at the shorter man’s pace, so about ten or so minutes later, Taehyung had clover clamps attached to both nipples and was riding a see-through, glass dildo. The submissive was a panting mess, a few sweaty strands of hair stuck on his forehead as he kept his thighs moving, trying to keep the rhythm Yoongi had established and not cum in the meantime.
“Can’t, sir,” the boy cried out, his whole body starting to shake. “Can’t hold it. ”
“You can and you will.” Yoongi retorted right away, his fingers tangling in ash-colored curls before pulling on them roughly. A few tears rolled down Taehyung’s cheeks as soon as their eyes met - for the first time since the scene started. “ Because I say so.” That was all it took for the sub’s perfect body to start convulsing, semen spurting all over his abdomen despite his erection not being directly stimulated in any way. The tip of his nose turned a pretty shade of pink as he continued to cry, the temporary relief frustrating him further.
The dominant tch-ed.
“And here I was thinking you could actually be good for once.”
Yoongi’s words would have been hard to swallow in any circumstances, never mind during a scene. It was almost hard to believe that the dominant on the stage had been the one teaching Namjoon everything he knew, their modus operandi was nothing alike.
“ I can!” Taehyung’s protest was brushed off by the black-haired man who hooked his index finger in the metal ring decorating the sub’s collar and guided him to what Seokjin believed to be a spanking bench. Yoongi silently attached the shackles to it, his movements gracious as he ignored the grey-haired boy’s sobs and whines.
A gag was placed inside Taehyung’s mouth as soon as the dominant drew the conclusion that he was being too loud and then the public had been asked what kind of punishment would be fit for his wrongdoing. A few people raised their hands and Seokjin flinched when he saw the man beside him do the same, a mischievous smile splitting his face in two. Yoongi nodded in their direction.
“Paddling,” was the only thing that Namjoon had to say for the other dominant to grab one of the many paddles put on display. It was made of wood. “This is the main reason why I asked you to join me for this particular event,” the dominant whispered in Jin’s ear, pulling him closer. “There’s no better example of sadomasochism than these two.”
Sadism and masochism played a great role in the community, the blond had been aware of that long before he decided to pursue BDSM. As much as he enjoyed the idea of being dominated and teased, he couldn’t say that he was particularly interested in pain play. To be spanked during intercourse was one thing, to be whipped to the point where you bled was another. He read about those kinds of scenes due to his endless curiosity but fear stopped him whenever he tried to search for videos - he didn’t know how much he could stand seeing someone get hurt.
Yoongi was unforgiving, his hand coming down at a regular pace despite the violent jumps of his submissive’s body, alternating the harsh blows between the boy’s backside and upper thighs. He must have hit the twentieth mark when Taehyung stopped moving whatsoever, his cheek pressed against the black cushion he was resting his head on. His face was swollen from all the crying he’s done, a muffled no leaving his lips from time to time.
The boy looked out of it and Seokjin’s whole body went rigid as soon as he realized that his dominant might have not heard his desperate protests. Crooked fingers tugged on Namjoon’s shirt right away.
“He wants to stop,” the blond whispered, alarmed, still looking in the crying sub’s direction. “He wants to stop, Joon,” he repeated a little louder when Yoongi delivered another merciless blow, causing Taehyung’s back to arch. He felt panic starting to rise, his stomach turning in knots at the thought of a safe word not being heard. “He -”
“Look at his right hand, sweetheart,” Namjoon whispered calmly before bringing the hand clinging to his shirt to his lips and kissing it. The boy was holding what seemed to be a red stress ball. “He can always drop it if he wants to stop. The most important thing in a D/s relationship is mutual trust.” If Taehyung trusted Yoongi with his body, the latter trusted him to tell when things went south. “They’ve signed a contract more than half a year ago, they know each other’s limits.”
“You’re talking as if Tae is in any position to push Yoongi’s limits.”
“That’s because he is,” the dominant said seriously, his eyebrows arching slightly as he looked into doe eyes. “The submissive calls the shots, Jin. They choose to give over their control to their dominant counterparts, nothing happens without their clear consent.”
The blond nodded, suddenly feeling a little bit shy because of his earlier smart remark. He blamed it on the novelty of it all and on the adrenaline rush the scene they were attending was provoking.
“I want you to always remember that. You’re not and will never be a toy for me to play with; we are equals and whatever we do is supposed to result in pleasure for the both of us.” Namjoon was dead serious so when Seokjin nodded, he added: “I need a verbal answer.”
The elder man opened his mouth before closing it again. “I just -” Taehyung was still crying on the stage as his dominant continued his relentless punishment, his eyes still unsympathetic. “It doesn’t look like he’s feeling any pleasure.”
“Wait for it,” Namjoon whispered and tilted his head towards the stage before sipping on his beer. He had seen enough scenes involving his friends to know what was going to follow so he pressed his lips together as he waited for Yoongi to reach his thirtieth and last blow, curious about the way in which his submissive was going to react. Just as he predicted, as soon as the paddle landed for a final time, Taehyung’s whole body started to convulse because of a second orgasm, white spilling on the ground under him. This time, the dominant felt compassionate because his bony fingers wrapped around the boy’s hardness, stroking it to completion.
The sub’s sobs grew louder with each passing second but this time they sounded different as they were coated with relief. Yoongi bent to whisper something in his ear before removing the gag and placing it on one of the nearest tables.
“What about now?” Namjoon asked, his tone betraying fondness. “Have you changed your mind?”
Jin was dumbfounded. He’s read articles about the chemical substances inflicting pain could release inside your brain, about the fact that there were people who admitted to mistake pain for pleasure during scenes, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. His brain was simply unable to comprehend how such a harsh physical punishment could cause an orgasm. He wondered if he would be able to get there someday too, if that was just another side of him he didn’t have the time to explore. He wondered if that was what was expected of him.
So he nodded, knowing that he needed time to process all those thoughts. There were questions that not even Namjoon could answer for him.
“Yoongi is a good dominant, he would never endanger his submissive.”
Seokjin craved that sort of connection to the point that it almost made him sick. But the want didn’t annihilate the fear, for achieving that type of relationship meant opening up and there was nothing that terrified him more. He spent thirty years of his life playing along other people’s whims, being groomed into smiling widely and pretending that he had no opinion whatsoever.
Opening up is difficult when you have no idea who you are.
The blond was too absorbed by his own thoughts to notice that the dominant on the stage was unzipping his pants. It was Taehyung’s loud gasp that grabbed his attention and made him realize that the boy’s ravaging finally started, forcing his stare back towards the stage. Yoongi was fucking his submissive like his life depended on it, his hands holding the boy in place as he moved his hips, oblivious to the high-pitched moans of overstimulation surrounding him. His fingers were leaving red marks where they were biting into Taehyung’s flesh, offering him no option beside staying still and doing what he was told. The ecstasy painted all over the sub’s features was the only clue the public needed to understand that he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
Everyone in the room was hypnotized - the two beautiful bodies working together, by the perfect display of dominance and submission. The tears never stopped but the cries turned into ones of pleasure, the sounds making Seokjin subconsciously press his legs together, subtly trying to hide the fact that he was affected too. He didn’t know whether it was proper or not to feel turned on by the show Namjoon’s friends were putting on; he was soon going to be introduced to the dominant’s group of friends, he didn’t want to fuck up before they even came in contact with each other. He was torturing himself over the thought of being twisted when he felt a large palm coming to rest on his upper thigh, long fingers brushing the inside of it temptingly.
Namjoon leaned in, his breath hot on the sub’s ear. “They’re quite the sight, aren’t they?” Seokjin’s meek nod was rewarded with a chaste kiss on his lips. “I bet we could one-up them.”
Those hushed words were everything Jin needed to feel his ears start to burn, the idea making the muscles of his lower abdomen clench deliciously. He wanted to be good for Namjoon, to be presented to others not only as his precious possession but as his worthy submissive too.
“I’m much more selfish than Yoongi is, though,” the brown haired man added, his fingertips starting to draw circles dangerously close to the sub’s crotch area. “I don’t want other people to see how beautiful you are when you’re cumming for me.”
Jin bit the inside of his cheek as soon as he felt his member twitch, trying not to give away how much the possessiveness Namjoon was showing was turning him on. Ever since they signed the contract, months prior, there had been no day in which he didn’t feel desired, the feeling so new to him and so overwhelming that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was not used to having people take genuine interest in him, nevermind have such words directed to him, so all he could bring himself to do was to smile - to smile and to remind himself that they were all part of the game.
Namjoon was charming. From the way he carried himself whenever he was in headspace, to his irreproachable intelligence and outstanding talent of keeping Seokjin on his tippy toes, everything about him was perfect in the blond man’s eyes. The more they talked and got to know each other, the harder it got for Jin to ignore the attraction he was feeling, every butterfly he felt fluttering its wings inside his stomach reminding him of what a fool he was.
He liked Namjoon and he wanted to believe that the feeling was mutual but at the end of the day, their relationship outside the playroom was just another dissimulation, a play pretend. It had an expiration date, like everything else in his life beside his marriage.
“Ever?” The submissive asked hushedly, allowing their eyes to meet. It was a dare.
“Yet.”
The dimples making their appearance on the dom’s face made it hard for Seokjin to resist the temptation so he stretched his neck for their mouths to collide, hoping that would be enough to chase away the upsetting thoughts bugging him. It didn’t matter whether Namjoon meant any of the things he said or not, nor if his affectionate touches were deceiving, he was going to take every ounce of happiness he could get from this illusion.
The brown-haired man indulged him, biting softly on his lower lip whenever their tongues were not brushing against one another, his smiling interrupting their making out session from time to time, almost managing to make the other forget that there was an entire world outside their bubble. When the tips of their noses brushed together, the sub’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the realization that those were not the type of kisses suited for a sex dungeon, the naivete of them making him think of affections he only read about in his novels.
He was sure they must have been a strange vision but Namjoon didn’t seem to be bothered at least by that, his dimples still in place. The man pecked the tip of his nose before pulling him closer and offering him the perfect excuse to hide his face in the crook of his neck. Seokjin cursed inwardly at his incapacity to keep his emotions under control.
“Taehyung and Yoongi will need a little time to cool off after the scene but I think Jimin and Jeongguk will be here any minute now,” Namjoon whispered against light-colored strands, his hand coming to rest on the other’s lower back. He knew that meeting so many people - so many different people - at once could be intimidating but he wanted to take this opportunity and offer Jin a better look at the variety of BDSM dynamics too. He wanted him to understand that every relationship was distinctive as it was molded after the partakers’ preferences. “Speaking of the devil.”
“Hello, hello,” Jimin said as soon as he reached their table, a huge smile adorning his plump lips, turning his eyes into crescents. “It’s nice to see you again, Seokjin-ssi.” The owner of “Alphabet” was dressed in all black, his numerous silver accessories being the only ones to break the pattern and add to the elegance of his outfit. He was holding hands with a taller boy, whose big doe eyes turned even bigger as soon as they met Seokjin’s.
“Call me Jin,” the submissive said as Jimin took a seat, followed closely by the other. “You must be Jeongguk.”
The brown-haired boy nodded, his somewhat long curls bouncing cutely. “Nice to meet you.” His words had been barely audible, the bunny smile that followed reminding Seokjin that Jeongguk was the youngest of their group.
He had been curious about Jimin’s submissive ever since Namjoon mentioned him - he wanted to see what kind of person had the seemingly untouchable, most well-known dominant of Seoul smitten. His first guess had been that the submissive they were talking about was a particularly versed, experienced one but the idealistic image shattered into little pieces when Namjoon told him more about Jeongguk. The boy had been just as clueless about BDSM as Seokjin was when he first stumbled upon “Alphabet” and implicitly, upon Jimin.
“I hope you enjoyed the show,” the blond dominant said as he signaled the waiter. “Yoongi-hyung makes my job as a monitor so much easier.” His expression softened when he turned to look at his sub. “What would you like to drink, baby?”
“Beer?”
“Great minds think alike,” Jimin replied teasingly and placed the order, but not before asking the other two if they wanted to have anything else.
“Monitor?” Seokjin asked as soon as the waiter left, still curious about what was that about. His eyes instinctively searched for Namjoon’s, awaiting for an explanation but the other dominant replied right away.
“The monitors supervise the scenes taking place within the club… some sort of lifeguards, if you may,” the blond chuckled, crossing his legs. “They make sure that no house rules are broken and that everyone is safe.” That statement served as a confirmation that everything about “Alphabet” was far more complex than Seokjin could have imagined, that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about behind the scenes.
“Do accidents happen?”
Jimin hummed. “The risk of someone getting hurt is always present. A lot of people who come to Alphabet are inexperienced and tend to push their limits once they slip - that’s why having a team of monitors is absolutely necessary.” There hadn’t been any outstandingly bad incidents so far but any distressing situation was scarring when you were new to BDSM. People relied on Jimin to offer them a safe haven in which they could learn the ABCs of dominance and submission and he took that responsibility very seriously. “BDSM is supposed to be fun, I hope hyung already convinced you of that.”
If Seokjin’s ears weren’t pink enough by that point, the wink that followed Jimin’s last statement sure managed to color them further.
“I’m doing my best,” Namjoon said cheekily and held his glass of beer up for a toast. “To new experiences.”
“And new friends,” Jimin added before their glasses could meet, signaling the official beginning of that evening.
Now that the public scene had ended, the spacious room they found themselves in turned back into what it initially was conceived as: a space meant for socialization. The tables had been slowly covered by an almost dizzying variation of mostly non-alcoholic drinks, the people sipping on them holding hushed conversations about anything and everything. The place could have easily passed as a chic restaurant if it wouldn’t have been for the few people who were engaged in sexual activities, the atmosphere helping Seokjin unwind as they kept the dialogue going.
It didn’t take a genius to understand how Jimin gained the notoriety he had. His personality was magnetic, his witty comments and humor making it easy for the people around him to loosen up. Namjoon and he were very similar in a lot of ways and Seokjin suspected that alone played a huge role in their long lasting friendship - the fondness they carried for one another was almost palpable.
The club owner was very open about his lifestyle so he didn’t hold back from offering the new sub details about the kind of BDSM he preferred, about the new dynamic he and Jeongguk were currently digging into. Jin had never heard of ddlb before so when the couple outlined the basics for him to understand, he was dazzled as it sounded so different from everything he knew. The puzzle pieces were falling into place - the tenderness with which the dominant was always addressing the younger boy, the arm he always had wrapped protectively around Jeongguk’s waist, the way he always encouraged him to speak; they all made sense.
“Wasn’t the transition difficult?” Seokjin regretted his question as soon as he noticed the way Jeongguk flinched.
“We’re building a new comfort zone, it’s natural for it to be,” Jimin replied with a little smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he continued and leaned into his submissive, pressing a hurried kiss on the closest patch of skin he could reach.
The corners of Jin’s lips curled upwards at the subtle display of affection; the rumors about the owner of “Alphabet” being head over heels for his pretty submissive were proven correct. The elder submissive wished he could stop himself from feeling the familiar pressure nesting inside his chest at the realization. Envy wasn’t a good look.
He felt a tad pathetic for being jealous of a twenty-three years old but he couldn’t help but crave the love Jeongguk was obviously showered with. He didn’t claim to know all the hardships the couple in front of him went through, he could imagine that they must have had their hard times too but that didn’t obliterate the fact that they were sharing something he would never have. Even if they were going to change, if they were going to break up one day, they could live on their lives knowing that at some point, somebody loved them. Seokjin wondered how knowing you were worthy of love felt like.
The submissive was just done ordering wine when someone spoke right behind him, startling him: “And a glass of whiskey on the rocks, please.” The voice was familiar and it took Jin a few seconds and a glimpse of sharp, cat-like eye to realize that it was Yoongi who interrupted their conversation.
The blond’s mouth was already open for a greeting to roll off his tongue when Taehyung chimed in.
“You’re so beautiful!” The grey-haired boy’s words were a little slurred - an indicator that he was still affected by the scene he just partook in, but that didn’t stop him from stepping closer and lowering his upper half so his and Seokjin’s faces would be at the same level. “Namjoonie-hyung sure wasn’t kidding,” the sub whispered and burst into giggles as soon as he felt his dominant’s fingers tugging on the collar he was still wearing. “Hello.”
Tae’s silly monologue earned a few chuckles before they took their seats and Yoongi scolded him for not being gentle with their guest.
“It’s okay, hyung,” Jimin cooed. “Our TaeTae seemed to have found his happy place.”
The boy pouted at the affirmation but didn’t protest when the club owner ran his fingers through ash-colored strands, praising him for his performance. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt made of satin but the top few buttons were undone, allowing the thick metal ring of his collar to steal the show, pointing out to everyone that he was, in fact, taken.
“Did you like the show too, Jin-ssi?” Taehyung asked and grabbed his dominant’s preferred drink from the table as soon as the waiter placed the glass there. The first sip was enough to have him scrunch his nose in distaste so he returned the whiskey to its rightful owner, still watching Seokjin through long eyelashes. “I thought about you while I was on the stage.”
“You did?”
The boy nodded seriously. “I knew you were going to be here so I wanted to impress you.”
Tae was like a gulp of fresh air. He was strikingly attractive, the type of boy that turned heads whenever he was entering the room, but there was much more to him than a handsome face - the perfect combination of candidness and recklessness, taking everyone around him by surprise one line at a time.
“You did,” Jin said, mirroring the wide smile he was offered. “You did a great job.”
“Sir said I was good, too,” Taehyung sighed happily before relaxing against the soft cushions covering the sofa’s backrest. His eyes were still puffy due all the tears he had shed on the stage but his body language screamed content, the peculiar blend having Seokjin captivated. Yoongi was laughing at something Namjoon had said when Tae grabbed his arm, trying to draw his attention. “Can I suck Jin-ssi off?”
The words had Seokjin’s heart skip a beat.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yoongi answered right away, his tone infinitely gentler than the one he used on stage. “Jin-ssi is new to BDSM. We wouldn’t want to make him feel red, would we?”
Taehyung shook his head hurriedly, a frown marring his delicate features. “Jin-ssi doesn’t like Tae?” It was as if his state of mind changed from one second to the other because now he sounded demolished, as if the weight of the world had just been placed on his shoulders. The afterglow of the scene he had just shared with his dominant turned into vulnerability right under their eyes.
“Jin-ssi is still figuring out what he does and does not like, Taehyungie,” Yoongi explained patiently as he tucked a grey-colored strand behind the sub’s ear. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“I want him to like me,” the submissive gulped loudly. “Because he’s important to Joonie-hyung and I want us to be friends -”
“I want us to be friends too,” Seokjin interrupted his blabber, covering the boy’s big hand with his and squeezing it. By the looks of it, Taehyung was close to experiencing something he knew to be called a sub drop, and he didn’t want to be the reason for that.
His words must have been enough to chase away at least a few worries from the grey-haired boy’s mind because a smile took over his face almost instantly, his fingers moving to squeeze Jin’s. Yoongi shooted the blond an apologetic look and for the first time, the submissive realized how different the man in front of him was compared to the cold dominant he saw on stage. His pale fingers never stopped running through Taehyung’s hair.
“Why don’t we move into one of the private rooms?” Jimin suggested after a little while, probably worried himself about Tae’s possible drop. He made sure to ask the same waiter tending to their table for some sweets and cold water before guiding them towards the exclusive area, joking about how he could smuggle extra alcohol for them inside if they wanted some.
It was endearing to see how much they cared about each other. Taehyung decided to sit in his dominant’s lap for a change, his pupils still blown as Jeongguk intertwined their fingers, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.
Growing up, Seokjin didn’t have a lot of friends. Up until he mustered the courage to come out as gay, he’s been too busy studying to take over his family’s chaebol to entertain himself with activities that were not useful. His parents brought him along to many of the parties they attended but they always reminded him that the people they were usually conversing with were competitors, that they didn’t care to deepen bonds. His coming out was the turning point as he was immediately demeaned as useless for the Kim family, the disconsideration hurtful enough to turn him into a hermit. He had failed the only purpose he’s been born for.
So to him, that little gathering was fascinating - despite the unusual setting, the way the guys in front of his eyes were acting and talking to each other reminded him of the TV series he used to watch as a teenager, when he still dreamt of living a normal life.
There had been moments during the night when he felt a little bit pressured due to all the attention he was offered but Namjoon’s arm wrapped around him stressed the fact that no question was ill intended. All they wanted was to get to know him better so he tried to combine his exercised charm with sincerity and win them over just like he - hopefully - did Namjoon.
Surprisingly, the person he talked to the most had been Yoongi. They were the same age but that little detail had been brushed off, making room for the natural cordiality that had them jumping from one subject to the other without much difficulty. It must have been the dominant’s easy going personality that helped Seokjin feel at ease; that and the fact that they seemed to enjoy the same type of literature. If the blond felt a bit of insecurity overshadowing any exchange that involved details about his personal life, books had been the subject that got him going as he spent a lot of his time devouring them.
“Have you read The Discomfort of Evening ?” Jin didn’t understand why Namjoon chuckled, nor why Yoongi smiled as soon as he asked that question. That book was a fairly new publication but because it was signed by one of the most popular authors in South Korea, it was good enough to have an over the top advertising and to be acknowledged by the general public. “What?”
“You could say Yoongi-hyung is very familiar with that book,” the dominant next to him whispered cryptically, still amused by the blond man’s confused expression. “Because he wrote it.”
Seokjin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re Min Yoongi?”
“Look at him,” Jimin pointed at the writer, giggling. “He’s already getting shy.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes at the teasing comment and reached out for his glass of whisky, just in time for Jeongguk and Taehyung to chide the club owner. Seokjin grinned as Namjoon leaned closer to him, the warm breath cascading his ear sending shivers all through the his body.
“I hope you can get used to this much noise,” the brown haired man whispered low enough for their exchange to remain confidential.
“Should I get used to it?”
Seokjin’s teeth found their way into the plumpness of his lower lip so Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from kissing the beautiful man in front of him, making sure to liberate the tortured flesh in the process. “I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon,” the dominant whispered when they finally pulled apart.
The blond was going to take that as a yes .
“So how are things going with your new man?”
Seokjin hated family gatherings more than anything else. He didn’t see the point of bringing a bunch of people together against their will, forcing them to crisply talk about things they didn’t want to talk about. His mother, however, did not share his opinion so once every couple of weeks, both him and Hoon were expected to dine at his parents’ place, to share fake smiles and pretend that they weren’t living life like they were in a play.
However, he didn’t expect that question to leave Hoon’s lips.
“Seokjin!” His mother’s screech had Jin almost drop the metallic chopsticks he was holding. He wouldn’t have minded if she would have been outraged, if she would have been able to express pure rage, because at least that would have meant that she actually had real, human, emotions; that must have been too much to ask because the only feelings anyone could deduce from her tone were shock and exasperation.
“Amazing,” the blond replied to Hoon, the disingenuous smile plastered on his face hurting his cheeks. Namjoon was everything he could have hoped to find in a dominant, everything he didn’t know he needed to find in another human being. He wanted to keep him and the memories they created together away from these people that called themselves his family - he didn’t want to soil them with opinions he didn’t ask for.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs. Kim said and slammed her chopsticks on the table, her eyes burning holes into Seokjin’s skull. “You can’t just sleep around, you’re marri-“
“You’re aware that Hoon is seeing someone else too, aren’t you?” The man replied calmly, a little line making its way in between his eyebrows. Everyone and their mothers knew about Hoon’s extramarital affair so the hypocrisy with which the woman sitting across the table approached the situation pissed him off.
“We’re not talking about him right now.”
“And what difference does it make?” Seokjin asked, the tone of his voice taking everyone by surprise. He took pride in how well he could usually conceal his feelings but there was something about his parents - especially his mom - that managed to make him lose it. It must have been the years-long pent-up frustration.
“The least you could do is be grateful for all the work he’s -”
Everything surrounding Seokjin died out the moment he heard the word “grateful”, his mother’s voice turning into white noise before she even had the chance to finish the sentence. He knew that if he would have opened his mouth right then, he would have regretted it later so he pressed his lips into a thin line and pulled his chair back, trying to keep his breathing in check. It wasn’t like he was the one who decided to live his life as arm candy, like he labeled himself as dead weight as soon as he came to terms with his sexuality. Both him and Hoon have been raised in the same manner, prepared to take over their families’ chaebols so he couldn’t have possibly been grateful for being casted aside - there was nothing that Hoon had and he didn’t.
“Thank you for the food,” he muttered under his breath before leaving the room, immune to all the protests that followed.
He heard his name being called, his father complaining about him being difficult, but nothing could have convinced him to go back. The little self esteem he possessed was enough for him to acknowledge that he had the right to protect himself from such mindless comments.
He felt his eyes starting to sting, the idea of his parents disregarding that he was a living and breathing human being making it seem like the elevator he found himself in was moving much too slow. He turned off his phone as soon as it went off and headed to the nearest bus station, still trying to figure out where to go. His head felt twice its size by the time the bus he randomly climbed in started moving, the buildings they were passing by reminding him that there was more to his life than the golden cage he’s been locked in. He got startled when a school girl sat down next to him in Gangnam, the little “sorry” that left her lips afterwards managing to make him smile. He found comfort in knowing that he wasn’t the see-through being he felt like during most days, that his body didn’t blend in with the surroundings and helped the world forget he existed.
When he knocked on Namjoon’s door, the panic he'd been trying to quiet started to resurface, his heart ready to explode and make a mess inside his chest. As soon as he realized that he didn’t even know for certain if the dominant was home he felt tears pooling inside his eyes, desperation starting to drench his brain. All he wanted - no, needed , was to be held.
The moment the door opened, Seokjin swallowed loudly, trying to push down the knot that followed inside his throat and smile instead, his attempt failing as soon as his eyes met Namjoon’s.
“Jin?” The soft way in which his name had been spoken had the submissive starting to silently weep, urging the dominant to move closer and wrap him in his arms. Of course Namjoon would see right through him, of course he would offer him exactly what he needed without being asked to. “What happened, sweetheart?”
The sub shook his head, too ashamed to voice all the degradation he was put through on a daily basis, to acknowledge that his family was the root of his every problem. He was afraid that if Namjoon saw how little of a person he could become under the pressure of words, he would realize how weak he was.
“Can I -” He tried, unsure of how he wanted to continue that very question. “I know it’s - it’s not Monday or Wednesday or -” It was unfair of him to show up uninvited at the dominant’s place, he was sure the other had better things to do than to cater for his urges. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“My door’s always open for you,” Namjoon said and pulled back so he could take a better look at the man in front of him, hoping the sincerity of his words was conspicuous. They didn’t know each other for a long time but he wanted Seokjin to understand that he could always lean on him when things got too much for him to handle. It broke his heart to see him like that. “Let’s get you inside.”
The dominant decided that he had the perfect tea for the situation so he guided his guest to the kitchen where he put the kettle on the stove, set on offering Seokjin the time he needed to put his thoughts in order. He retrieved two of his favorite mugs and placed them on one of the kitchen counters before he looked into Seokjin’s direction and offered him a little, encouraging smile. It wasn’t like him to pressure others into sharing what was on their mind so he hoped that the blond would open up voluntarily, meet him halfway as soon as he decided that he felt comfortable doing so.
The submissive looked crushed so Namjoon walked closer to the table he was sitting at and leaned in, cupping his face and making him snap out of the troubling thoughts tormenting him. He was looking for the spark that could be spotted inside doe eyes whenever they shared happy moments, the one that had Seokjin seem young and carefree and so damn lively.
It was nowhere to be found.
So Namjoon pressed their mouths together chastely, again and again, until a little sob ripped through Jin’s chest and tears started rolling down pale cheeks again. The idea of him being the reason behind those negative feelings had the dominant terrified so he tried to break all contact when arms wrapped around his neck, desperately trying to keep him in place.
“You’re okay, Jin,” the taller man whispered hushedly, engulfing the other in a gentle hug. He couldn’t have possibly made anything better without knowing exactly what it was so he limited himself to the only thing he could offer: the reassurance that he was right there. “You’re okay,” he repeated and kissed the other’s clothed shoulder before slowly lowering himself on his knees on the cold floor. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They stood like that for what felt like forever, never breaking the embrace while the dominant continued whispering sweet nothings, trying to ease some of Seokjin’s hurt in the process. It was the latter that later on tugged on brown strands, guiding Namjoon’s mouth to his own for a forceful, almost brutal kiss that had their teeth clash before their tongues could find each other, eager to take their minds off everything that just happened. It was Seokjin who jumped like burnt as soon as the kettle started whistling, too, putting distance in between them as if he couldn’t make up his mind whether he wanted any closeness at all.
Namjoon was sweetening their cups of chamomile tea when the submissive decided to put an end to his silence. “Do you think I am doing a good job as your sub?” He could see by the other’s body language that he took him by surprise so he started fiddling with his fingers as he patiently waited for an answer.
“I think you’re doing amazing,” the dominant said before placing a warm cup in front of him and taking his own seat at a table. He was curious where this question came from. “Didn’t I tell you that after every single scene?”
Seokjin nodded. It was true that during aftercare, Namjoon never shied away from praising him but somehow, it was exactly because it was during aftercare that he found those words hard to believe. After all, it was part of the dominant’s duty to make sure their partners didn’t drop after a scene, that didn’t necessarily mean their words had to be genuine.
“Even if I know so little about BDSM?”
“The only way to properly learn things is gradually,” Namjoon replied, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I’ve been doing this for years, I can’t hold you to the same standards. But I’m proud of how far we’ve both come in such a short time,” the man whispered, something pulling on the strings of his heart as soon as his eyes met warm browns. “I’m looking forward to every scene I get to share with you.”
“I can be useful,” Seokjin whispered, his hands turning into fists where they rested, on top of his thighs. “I believe every little thing on this planet is worth something; don’t you think so?”
It was clear that the submissive was talking to himself more than he was to him so Namjoon didn’t answer the question right away, trying to find the best way in which he could phrase his thoughts. “I don’t believe in the concept of worth.” He didn’t miss the confusion painting the other’s beautiful features. “Why do we have to condition our value according to things we do or don’t do? Everyone deserves to be happy, no matter if they move mountains or just breathe.” Life is hard enough without people putting unnecessary pressure on themselves to fit certain standards.
“Even me?”
There was nothing that broke Namjoon’s heart quite like when Jin talked about himself like he was the lowest of the low. He still had a hard time comprehending how someone so lovely - inside and out - could be brought up to think so poorly of himself.
“Even you,” the dominant promised. “Even if we wouldn’t have been sexually compatible, that wouldn’t have meant you are unworthy of having a dominant or being in the scene.”
“But we are,” Seokjin whispered quietly, as if he was trying to convince himself of that.
The blond was looking at the cup in front of him as if it was the most interesting thing in the whole wide world and the dominant couldn’t help but wonder what he was actually thinking about. As candid as their conversations usually were, Namjoon was aware that there were not a lot of things he knew about the man in front of him. Sure, he knew details but they have never had a serious conversation about their upbringings, about the dreams - whether they were big or small - they were trying to pursue during this lifetime. The dominant knew that not everyone lived their life as an open book but he couldn’t stop the sadness seeping inside his bones whenever he thought about the way in which Seokjin was living his life. It must have been lonely.
“You make me want to be selfish,” the submissive smiled almost sadly and sipped from his tea.
“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked warily, his warm drink long forgotten.
“You took me on dates , Joon,” Seokjin said, his eyes turning glassy once again. “You took me on dates and bought me flowers more times that I can remember.” His words came out hurriedly, like he was afraid that if he wouldn’t get everything out of his system as soon as possible, he would never have another chance to. “You - you bought me that book from that author I really like just because. You send me good morning texts and pictures of trees you find beautiful -”
The elder man looked like he was on the verge of having a panic attack so Namjoon decided it was time for him to intervene, his hand instinctively reaching out for crooked fingers on top of the table.
“It’s my fault, too, for not saying anything earlier but I’m going to say it now,” Jin sniffled. “Please drop the act.”
Dragon eyes widened as soon as their owner’s brain had the chance to process the words. It hurt to be doubted to such an extent.
“I don’t want your pity,” Seokjin shook his head, a few tears escaping the corners of his eyes.
He adored the side of Namjoon that spoiled him rotten, the one that treated him better than anyone else ever did. He loved the kisses and the sweet whispers, the way their hands would always find each other when they were walking side by side. He loved falling asleep listening to the dominant’s heart and waking up to his soft snoring. But every day that passed by made it harder for Jin to overlook that he was catching real, palpable feelings, and that heartbreak was inevitable.
He had talked to his parents and Hoon as if Namjoon was a real option, as if he wasn’t there just because of the contract they signed.
“I want this - this lie so badly that I’m already delusional, Joon.” The submissive whispered and pulled his hand away from the bigger one covering it. “What the hell am I going to do once our deal is over?”
“So you’re thinking that everything I do is because of the contract we signed,” Namjoon said slowly, trying to make sure that he wasn’t jumping to conclusions. He took the little nod that followed as a confirmation and closed his mouth, not wanting to cause more damage by mistake; he couldn’t deny the pain he was feeling but he was wise enough to take in consideration the idea that Seokjin might not know any better. “I don’t know what I could possibly say or do for you to believe that there’s no act to be dropped. Contractually, the only thing I’m obliged to do is to fuck you senseless every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.”
Seokjin was surprised by the choice of words - it didn’t feel like fucking was everything they’ve been doing on those designated days.
“Everything else I’ve done because I wanted to,” the dom added, running his hand through his hair.
“But why would you?”
“Why would I what ?” Namjoon asked, sounding a tad too irritated for his own liking.
“Treat me so nicely.”
The blond’s words have been barely audible but the dominant felt like someone just slapped him across his face. How could he have possibly answered that question? “Stop it, Jin,” he said after a little while, the exasperation he was feeling making him raise his voice and underline how ridiculous he found the conversation they were having. He had nothing against discussing aspects of their contractual relationship, or answering questions about himself and his feelings but he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he was being accused of having malicious intentions. By the man who was supposed to trust him with his body and mind.
“I’m sorry.”
There were a lot of things Namjoon expected to hear but an apology was not one of them. The first glimpse of Seokjin’s face was enough to have him realize that he royally fucked up because the submissive was looking like a scared child, who didn’t understand what he had done wrong or how he was supposed to make things better.
“I should go,” Jin whispered, starting to profoundly regret his decision of dropping by. He should have known better than to show up in such a vulnerable state of mind. “I’ll see you on Monday -”
“Jin,” the dominant said as soon as the other got up from the table. “Don’t go.” The conversation was not over, he didn’t want them to part until they talked things through. “Please.”
“I’m making you angry.” Seokjin’s smile never reached his eyes as he turned to look at Namjoon, his fingers intertwining in front of him. “My insecurities got the best of me, sir -”
Namjoon felt his stomach twisting in knots as soon as he heard the way he’s been addressed. “We need to talk, sweetheart,” he tried, getting up from his place. “Not as dominant and submissive but as Namjoon and Seokjin.”
“What is there to talk about? Everything’s a mess,” Jin murmured. “You said you’re acting the way you’re acting because you want to but Joon -” He opened his mouth but no words came out for a few seconds, time in which new tears formed inside his browns. “I don’t understand why.”
Namjoon hated the standard concept of masculinity. He hated the fact that boys were told ever since they were babies that they weren’t supposed to cry, that showing feelings was a sign of weakness and that it was their job to bottle everything up, to act like a man. However, as much as he liked to believe that he was in touch with his emotional side, he would have hardly called himself a crier.
This time, though, he didn’t manage to keep himself in check. How the fuck is one supposed to explain affection to a thirty years old?
“What kind of monster do you see yourself as?” Namjoon finally managed to ask, a little smile spreading on his lips as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the depth of Seokjin’s insecurities, the way he’s been raised to think that nobody would spare him a glance if he didn’t live up to their expectations. “Fuck,” he whispered. “It’s breaking my heart.”
Seokjin kept his mouth shut, unsure of how to respond to such an emotional outburst. Somehow, he couldn’t have imagined that Namjoon was capable of such a visceral reaction - everything about the dominant’s life seemed paced, thoroughly calculated.
“Is it so hard to believe that I’m willing to give us a chance?”
Seokjin’s heart started to struggle against his rib cage as soon as the words left the dom’s mouth, those unnamed winged creatures filling his stomach to the brim. He wanted to scream, to let the world know that for the first time in his life someone saw someone and not something when looking at him. But his body was paralyzed with anxiety, his limbs trembling in fear that any wrong movement or word would turn everything into dust. He was afraid of falling in love. He was afraid of living a loveless life too.
He could have walked out the door and never turned back; he knew Namjoon would have never trespassed his boundaries. Going back to what he considered to be normalcy would have been the easiest way to deal with this situation because that implied not taking any risk. The only problem was that he was sick and tired of playing safe, of being a pawn in his parents’ power games, of pretending he was absolutely fine when all he wanted to do was to bury himself alive.
He gulped, wondering for a second if his deafening heartbeat was loud enough for Namjoon to hear it too. He would have lied if he would have said that he never thought about the way his life would have been if his relationship with the dominant became reality. It would have been filled with patient words and touches, silly conversations under the blanket and promises that he knew would come true. He knew it was too early, daring even, to think something like this but a part of his soul believed he would be happier than ever if he would have the privilege of seeing Namjoon’s dimpled smile every single day - to know that he had been the reason for it.
Maybe he was falling for the idea of Namjoon, maybe he wasn’t ready for all the faults he would find once he got closer but he was a deeply flawed person himself. And he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so - so alive .
“Joon,” was all he managed to whisper and all that the dominant needed to hear in order to step closer and embrace him. Namjoon was holding him as carefully as always, as if he was made of glass and could break any moment, so he took it upon himself to pull him closer, taking two fistfuls of his shirt in the process. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stand the idea of Namjoon hurting for him. It would have been easier for him to accept a corporal punishment than to see that pained expression on the dominant’s face. “I’m the one in the wrong, I’m sorry.”
“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes,” Namjoon whispered against blond strands. “Then you would understand why I’m so smitten with you.” He had never felt such a pull when it came to any of his former submissives - nowadays all he wanted to do was to drink in Seokjin’s every word, to slowly tear down the walls separating them. “I’m in your corner, Jin. Please don’t punish me for other people’s wrongdoings.”
“I didn’t mean to,” the sub sobbed and buried his face in the strong chest in front of him. “I’m just so -”
“Scared?” Namjoon asked almost lovingly and started to rub circles onto the other’s lower back. “I’m scared too.”
The few times Namjoon tried to date outside the scene resulted in deception only; he knew he couldn’t have been satisfied with a partner who wasn’t willing to go further than vanilla and as soon as he introduced them to the scene, they usually ran away screaming. BDSM meant far more than light spankings and the use of handcuffs during intercourse. He tried to date submissives and switches for a while too but they usually started on the wrong foot, looking at him solely as a dom and forgetting that he was a real person with real interests too. As particular as he was about the type of scenes he enjoyed, sex was not the center of his universe and sometimes, all he wanted to do was to enjoy his coffee in someone’s company.
“It’s happening too fast,” Seokjin said, his voice hoarse. The faster the fall, the more painful the impact with the ground.
“I don’t think we’ll ever feel ready.” The dom broke the hug and smiled in the shorter man’s direction, his dimples making their appearance. “All we can do is take it or leave it.” He already knew his answer but he was going to respect Jin’s decision nonetheless.
“I don’t know if I will be good at it.” Seokjin said, worry clouding his mind once again. “But I -” He wanted to. “I’ll try to be good for you.”
Namjoon’s big hand came to cup a soft cheek, his thumb brushing the skin there affectionately. Try was good enough for him so he leaned in and pressed their lips together, chastely, until pillowy lips opened as an invitation for him to sneak his tongue inside Jin’s mouth, slowly caressing everything it could reach and having the man in front of him whimper. It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn passionately, a proof of their insatiable neediness for one another. In the blink of an eye the submissive melted in his arms, allowing their torsos to meet, fingertips clawing at Namjoon’s sides like Seokjin’s life depended on their hold, like he was afraid of the calamity that might happen if he let go.
It was obvious how ardent Jin’s desire for him was. He knew that taking him to the playroom would have been the easiest way to deal with the amalgam of feelings Seokjin was still trying to fight but Namjoon has never been a fan of shortcuts. He knew that taking someone’s mind off a problem didn’t mean solving it so he decided on interrupting their impromptu making out session, placing a peck in the middle of the other’s forehead instead.
“Do you want to spend the night?”
Seokjin nodded without a second thought before sniffling. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Being alone could only result in him overthinking to the point where he came to the conclusion that everything was his fault. It couldn’t have been otherwise, not when both his parents and Hoon said the same. He knew he would turn on his phone, allowing his mother to scold him for his lack of manners before curling himself to sleep, questioning what was the purpose of him being alive anymore. They wouldn’t even notice if he fell off the edge of the earth anyway.
“I happen to be amazing, one of a kind company,” Namjoon said before kissing his lips softly and intertwining their fingers. “Did you eat anything?”
Seokjin shook his head. He wanted to rewrite the humiliating dinner he just partook in so he offered to cook for the both of them, happy that he took it upon himself to set a rule of going out to buy groceries together weekly. He spent almost half of his time at the dominant’s place, the least he could do was to make sure that the latter was not famished.
“I feel bad for making you cook almost every time you come over,” Namjoon said as he methodically chopped the mushrooms they decided to add to their pizza topping.
“I love to cook for people dear to me,” Seokjin replied right away, his hands never stopping from shaping the dough. He only ever did it for his grandma before, though, but that was a bit of information he was willing to leave out of their conversation.
The dominant hummed in understanding before a grin spread on his lips. “Is it your love language, then?” He burst into chuckles as soon as the blond’s cheeks turned pink, his fingertips starting to itch with the need to touch as soon as he heard a small “I guess so”. He wanted to spoil Jin, to offer him all the tenderness he'd been deprived of.
He wrapped his arms around the shorter man within seconds, pulling his back to his chest and kissing his head in the process.
“I’d like to cook for the boys too,” Seokjin whispered shyly before looking over his shoulder and pouting, knowing that would definitely earn him a kiss.
“So you like them,” Namjoon grinned, brushing the tips of their noses together. “They like you too, Jeongguk made me promise I’ll bring you over the next time we meet.”
That had come as a surprise as the submissive couldn’t say that he felt that the younger boy craved any type of particular connection with him the first night they met. He was happy to know that he made a good first impression - he didn’t want to burden Namjoon with the issue of incompatibility; a little part of him hoped he could become part of the group one day, too.
“Why does it feel like opening a bottle of wine is mandatory?” The dominant whispered into Seokjin’s ear, swinging slowly from side to side.
“I can’t believe you’re planning on getting me drunk,” the blond replied, faking surprise. “And here I was thinking you’re a gentleman.” He dropped his charade as soon as hoarse chuckles filled the room, causing his heartbeat to pick up its pace.
“Did I shatter your illusion?”
Jin hummed approvingly but turned around, capturing the other’s mouth into a hungry kiss, barely managing to keep his flour-covered hands in place. “Red will do.”
By the time they were done having dinner, it felt like there had never been any tension between the two of them. The elder man didn’t take his first sip of wine before he started talking, a long exhale forgoing the explanation behind his state of mind and actions. He kept it vague but tried his best to convey to Namjoon the manipulative ways of his parents, the way he was expected to sit nicely and say nothing as they had their way with his life, profit being the only thing on their minds. He barely managed to bring himself to convey into words the humiliation he has endured over the years, too ashamed to repeat most of the things he’s been told, the flaws he’s been reduced to.
The dominant didn’t interrupt him at all, the only ones giving away the rollercoaster of emotions he was experiencing being his eyes. It wasn’t his place to talk about Seokjin’s family but suddenly, everything made sense - Jin’s endless insecurities that drove him past his breaking point, the alienation of notions such as sincerity and kindness. Of course he wouldn’t be able to understand pure humanity if he’s been deprived of it all his life.
“Today I talked back,” the blond whispered after a few moments of pregnant silence, time in which he started playing with the napkin in front of him. “I only had the courage to because a part of me knew I could run to you afterwards.”
“Do you think they’d go as far as hurting you physically?”
“No, Joon but -” He covered his face with both hands, another sigh escaping his lips. “I am so tired of living my life as if it’s not actually mine.” He was tired of being constantly reminded that he is never going to be good enough. He compelled a little smile as he searched for chocolate orbs but even that was coated in guilt. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s…” Namjoon was trying to keep himself composed - he knew that based on his reaction, Jin would decide whether he was willing to share more about himself or not. He didn’t want the sub to misunderstand and think that his anger was directed to him. “It’s hard for me to understand why anyone would treat their child like this.”
“Probably because their child is gay,” Seokjin murmured and took a sip of his wine.
Another I’m sorry was ready to roll off Namjoon's tongue but he stopped himself in time. Seokjin didn’t need his pity, he needed to understand that he didn’t have to face the world alone. “Come here,” he said instead, extending his hand as an encouragement, an honest smile tugging on the corners of his mouth at the lack of hesitation on the other’s part.
Seokjin had a perfect, masculine body. He had strong thighs and shoulders for days, his tiny waist adding to his almost unbelievable proportions, lacing his figure with a sort of elegance Namjoon had only ever seen before at the statuesque figures of Ancient Greek.
It was the innocence of his eyes that broke the spell of heady summer nights spent with countless insatiable lovers and just as many idylls. That, and the desperation of his touches, the almost asphyxiating longing. He had told Namjoon before that he loved to be held so the dominant didn’t shy away from doing just that whenever the context allowed it, hoping that one day, the blond would notice how fast his heart was beating whenever he was around.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” Namjoon whispered with his cheek pressed on top of the other’s head, enjoying the feeling of warm breath cascading the skin of his neck. “I’m sure it was not easy.”
Jin didn’t reply, instead snuggling even closer, trying to kill any millimeter that could come in between them. Everything was still a mess but he somehow felt lighter, like half of his worries evaporated in thin air.
“How does going to bed earlier than usual sound?” The dominant broke the silence after a little while, soft eyelashes tickling him where they batted like butterflies’ wings.
“Perfect, sir,” Seokjin yawned, his arms moving around the warm chest he was resting against, underlining the fact that he wasn’t planning on ungluing himself from Namjoon anytime soon.
A little kiss was pressed on his forehead.
“It’s only Joon tonight, sweetheart.”