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Red.
Blazing red.
Kim’s vision tints with it as he storms into the abandoned warehouse. He doesn’t register the way everyone in the room whips around to look at him, startled expressions on their faces. He doesn’t notice when those looks of surprise turn into smug amusement as they see that he’s alone. It’s not even on his radar when one of them, the leader, perhaps, begins to stalk towards him, self-satisfied little smirk playing across his lips.
To Kim, they are already bodies on the floor.
The way he moves is fast; efficient. The one closet to him is dead within a second. The next, limp on the ground before he can open his mouth to shout in alarm. Some of them, he shoots; others, he uses his hands, cracking their necks without a second thought. Fire runs red hot beneath his skin, lighting him up from the inside out, setting him ablaze.
Soon, the entire room is red.
One of them manages to grab him from behind, hands settling around his neck, touching the strip of leather wrapped around it securely. Kim roars with rage, and the man’s fingers are broken within an instant, bone protruding from skin; blood spilling down, down, down – spattering across the floor as screams of agony pierce the air once more. Grabbing a knife from his belt, Kim hacks at the man’s wrists, pinning him against the floor with his knees to stop the thrashing. It’s annoying, Kim thinks distantly, behind the searing wall of flame that consumes his thoughts. It makes the whole thing take longer – but, eventually, the man goes quiet, and Kim can finish his job in peace. He takes great pleasure in sawing his hands off – the hands that had dared to touch what belonged to only one person.
“Kim.”
Kim spins around, still on his knees. The knife clatters to the floor beside him. Across the room, Chay sits in the chair they bound him to – both legs and arms tied with ropes to the wood. Low; dark, Kim growls, shaking with agonising rage. They touched him; they dragged him here against his will; they bound his limbs while Kim couldn’t stop them.
“Kim.”
Abruptly, Kim stops. The low noise cuts off, leaving the room quiet. Chay smiles at him, and something within his chest settles.
“Come.”
Kim is across the room in a second, collapsing at Chay’s feet. He kneels there, staring up at Chay, eyes wide and attentive. Chay smiles down at him.
“Untie me,” he orders.
Immediately, Kim obeys. He’s tugging at the ropes with sole-minded focus within an instant: first Chay’s legs, then his arms – and then Chay is free, and Kim resumes his previous position, kneeling with his arms by his sides, looking up at Chay.
Above him, Chay stretches. He circles his wrists around before holding them close to his face, regarding the faint marks there with a neutral expression. Kim can’t stop the quiet, displeased noise that escapes him at the sight of Chay’s injuries, and it brings Chay’s attention to him once more.
He smiles.
Leaning down, Chay reaches a hand out and strokes gently over Kim’s hair, running his fingers through it; when he reaches the ends, he switches his touch to Kim’s cheek, thumb rubbing across the skin in small movements. It’s instantaneous, the way Chay’s touch douses the blaze beneath Kim’s skin. The place that Chay makes contact with him is cool, a stark relief to the red heat of the rest of his body. Kim can’t help but sigh quietly, eyes fluttering half-closed as he stares up at Chay with utter devotion.
“Did you kill them all for me, puppy?” Chay asks softly, and Kim revels in the way his voice seems to spread the cool water of his touch down Kim’s body, saving him from being burned alive. Kim nods.
“I did,” he answers, voice quiet but sure. This is something he is always sure of – he will stop at nothing for Chay. He will kill for him – anyone, anywhere. Even himself. If Chay asked him to slit his own throat right now, he would do it unhesitatingly, with a smile on his face.
For Chay.
Chay is still smiling down at him, hand cradling his face like he’s something precious. He looks proud, and Kim preens, pleasure settling deep within him.
“Good,” breathes Chay. “So good, my Kim.”
The pleasure rises; bubbles up within Kim’s insides, clean and pure. He can’t help but let it spill out of him; he feels a grin growing on his face, laughter falling from the corners of his lips. His Chay is proud of him. He did well, protecting his Chay.
Without realising, he’s stretching upwards, neck straining back – and then there’s a hand on his throat, fingers curling around it as the palm rests against the strip of leather there. Abruptly, he remembers the way the man had touched it – touched what was Chay’s – and he whines, pushing his neck further into Chay’s grasp, desperate for him to erase any hint of another’s touch.
“Shhh,” Chay soothes, and then the hand on his face is sliding back into his hair, grasping it tightly and tugging it back. The pain is instant and sharp; Kim gasps, eyes rolling back in utter bliss as Chay’s other hand tightens around his throat. His mouth gapes open as he instinctually struggles for breath – but then he relaxes, just as Chay trained him to do, body going slack.
If Chay does not grant him breath, then he does not need it.
“That’s it,” whispers Chay, suddenly so, so close. “Good puppy.”
The grip around Kim’s neck loosens, and he breathes in deep, muttering a quiet “thank you,” for the breath Chay has allowed him. Chay’s only response is to hum approvingly, letting go of his neck entirely to trace a finger over the leather surface of his collar, pressed snug against his skin. Kim sighs deeply. All feels right once more: he is here, at Chay’s feet, where he belongs. Chay is here, touching his claim over Kim, reasserting it.
Suddenly, there’s a soft clicking sound, and Kim feels something tug at the front of his collar. Chay’s grip on his hair has loosened enough that he can tilt his head down, and he sees the way the leash extends from his neck to Chay’s hand. Kim smiles up at him gratefully – he knows how Kim needs to be lead after situations like this, but he also knows how Kim loathes to touch Chay with bloodstained hands. The leash is the perfect solution.
“Stand,” Chay orders as he, himself, rises, and Kim does immediately. He revels in Chay’s satisfied expression, the one he always wears after Kim follows his commands without question, before Chay offers a quick “come,” and begins walking towards the door.
Of course, Kim obeys.
Chay drives them home. Kim had driven here, breaking every speed limit, in a haze of red, and his car is parked halfway across the pavement, door still open. Chay leads him to the passenger seat, buckles him in, and shuts the door behind him, and Kim whines low in his throat for the brief moments it takes for Chay to walk around the car and settle into the driver’s seat.
When they reach their apartment, Chay leads him straight to the bathroom by his leash. He undresses Kim quickly and quietly, Kim obeying his silent commands by making himself as malleable as possible: lifting his arms for Chay to take off his shirt; stepping out of his trousers and underwear when Chay peels them off his body. When Chay unclips his leash, and then goes to take off his collar, he whines, a low, panicked sound deep within his throat.
“Shhh, puppy,” Chay says softly, both hands curling around Kim’s neck to comfort him. “It’s only for a short while. I’ll put it right back on after I’m done cleaning you up.”
Kim relaxes once more at Chay’s words. Although it feels awful to have Chay remove the solid weight against his neck; the claim that Chay proudly gave him and that he wears with honour – he trusts Chay. If Chay says it’s only for a short while, then he’s telling the truth.
Quickly, Chay removes his own clothes, and then he’s wrapping a hand around Kim’s neck and pulling him gently into the shower, walking backwards so that Kim can walk forwards. Gratitude swells within Kim – Chay knows how distressing it can be for Kim to not wear his collar, and Chay’s hand is a worthy, if temporary, replacement.
Kim allows himself to be moved, limbs lifted and placed down once more, carefully positioned in whatever way Chay sees fit. Water runs red down the plughole as Chay slowly scrubs all the blood from Kim’s body, and Kim feels as if the last of the uncontrollable rage he felt earlier is swirling down there too, Chay’s touch wiping him clean of it. Chay mutters as he works – “messy puppy, got yourself all messy for me,” – and Kim simply watches him, eyes wide as to take in all of him that he can. He’s perfect, Kim thinks – wet hair curls over his forehead; golden skin glistens as water droplets slide down its surface; lips part in concentration as he dedicates himself to Kim, as Kim has dedicated himself right back.
“Chay,” Kim finds himself saying, the syllable slow and drowsy, and Chay’s eyes flick to his as an amused smile curves his lips upwards.
“Yes, puppy?” he responds, eyes glinting.
“Chay,” repeats Kim nonsensically, and Chay laughs, a quiet, knowing sound, as if he was fully aware that Kim would not be able to answer. Kim smiles back at him. Chay always knows what he means. Chay understands him completely.
When they’re done, Chay leads him out of the shower by his neck once more. Quickly, the collar is reattached, and Kim sighs quietly in relief, closing his eyes for a moment as he revels in the feeling of having Chay’s claim to him on his body again. When he opens them, Chay is looking at him, amusement and pride shining in his eyes.
No need for the leash now that Kim is clean, Chay takes him by the hand and leads him to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and barely needing to utter a firm “kneel,” before Kim is on his knees in front of him. Gently, with as much care as one would handle the most precious jewel, Chay dries Kim’s hair, and Kim allows himself to float blissfully within the cradle of Chay’s touch.
“You did so well today, my Kim,” Chay murmurs, and Kim stares up at him with half lidded eyes, hazily watching the way his lips move. “You’ll always protect me, won’t you? You’ll do anything for me.”
“I will,” Kim breathes. “Always.”
Above him, Chay smiles, and his eyes are dark with desire; with satisfaction. He has Kim right where he wants him, and there is nowhere else Kim would rather be.
“Would you like a reward, puppy?” says Chay softly, and Kim can’t help the way his breath hitches, eagerness blooming in his throat.
“Yes,” he breathes, watching Chay smile down at him indulgently. “From you, yes. Always.”
Chay hums, tilting his head to the side. Kim waits. Whatever Chay wants to give him, he will take. After a moment, Chay leans back, arms behind him on the bed. He’s so beautiful, the naked lines of him stretching endlessly before Kim’s eyes. Then, something begins to drag against Kim’s side, moving up his body before resting atop his shoulder.
“Kiss me,” Chay orders, leg raised, foot pressing into Kim’s skin. Kim exhales deeply, breath shaking.
“Thank you,” he breathes, turning to press a long kiss against Chay’s ankle. The taste of his skin is divine, and Kim inhales deeply, hands curling against his thighs where they rest.
“Keep going,” says Chay, tone expectant, and another “thank you,” spills from Kim’s lips, gratitude within him endless as Chay moves his leg so that his foot hangs behind Kim’s back, calf resting against his shoulder. Mercifully, indulgently, Chay allows Kim to kiss up his leg, shuffling forward on the bed so that Kim can reach further and further up his skin. When Kim reaches his upper thigh, Chay removes his leg slowly, watching as Kim sways after it for a second before righting himself. He’s almost panting, lips parted and glistening, tongue threatening to escape his mouth.
“Open,” Chay commands, and Kim’s mouth drops open immediately. Sitting high above him on the bed like a holy deity, Chay smiles.
“Tongue,” he says, and Kim’s tongue stretches out of his mouth, hanging over his bottom lip.
“Good,” Chay whispers through a widening smile. He looks wicked, and Kim can’t help but let out a delirious laugh in response, mouth wide open, revelling in Chay’s clear pleasure at his obedience. Reaching out, Chay grabs Kim’s tongue between his pointer finger and thumb, pulling it as far out of his mouth as it will go. Drool spills down Kim’s chin almost immediately, but he feels no urge to wipe it away. If Chay wanted him clean, he would clean him.
Kim feels shivery excitement zing through his bones as Chay moves forward so that he’s sitting right at the edge of the bed. His cock is half hard, and Kim’s mouth waters even more at the sight of it. He wants it, always, but never asks for it; Chay decides when he can have it and when he can’t, and Kim wouldn’t have it any other way. Today, Chay is feeling gracious, and he holds it in one hand while the other still pinches Kim’s tongue; Kim lets out a high, pathetic noise when Chay guides his cock so that the tip presses against him, allowing him to taste it. He can’t speak, but he stares up at Chay imploringly, begging him to understand Kim’s thanks through his eyes alone; of course, Chay smiles down at him knowingly, and Kim relaxes. Chay knows how thankful he is, always.
“You’ll take more, won’t you?” says Chay quietly, and before Kim can even think about trying to respond, Chay grasps him by the back of the head with both hands and pulls him down onto his cock. Kim gags immediately, looking up at Chay with watery eyes, but there is no sympathy in Chay’s expression – and it wouldn’t make sense if there was. Chay is giving him a reward; he has been so, so generous today, letting Kim put his mouth on him in so many places. Eyes fluttering back, Kim shivers at the pressure in his throat; the way it’s convulsing, his biology trying to reject the shape of Chay within him even as Kim wants nothing more than for him to stay there forever.
“What do you say, Kim?” Chay asks softly, and – there’s no way Kim is able to answer, but he tries anyway, scrambling to offer a ‘thank you’ and managing to make a choked, muffled sort of noise, which isn’t all that different from the ones he was already making. In response, Chay laughs; the noise sends tingles of pleasure over Kim’s skin. He amused Chay; he made him feel good.
“So cute, puppy,” Chay coos. “Drooling all over my cock like that. You even got hard from it, too.”
Kim blinks, Chay’s words processing – and he realises, yes, he’s hard; he’s so hard that little drips of pre-come are sliding down his length. It’s so – unnecessary, so secondary to Chay, that it hadn’t even registered to him. His own pleasure is so far down the list of needs or even wants; it pales in comparison to the absolute must that is making Chay feel good. But Chay has noticed – and he kicks out his leg, toes making contact with Kim’s cock where it stands between his thighs. Kim whimpers like a dog, inhaling sharply at the sudden pain that jolts through him; pain that makes his eyes roll back once more; the absolute bliss of Chay deeming him worthy of inflicting pain upon is a heady thing, and Kim feels like he’s high on it, legs twitching minutely further apart to give better access in case Chay wants to hurt him again. It only makes Chay laugh, and he curls the fingers of his right hand into Kim’s hair and tugs, his left moving around to secure itself in a hold at the top of Kim’s neck, squeezing at the sides of it. Chay’s cock slips from his mouth, but Kim leaves it open, tongue still out, drool messy all over his chin and dripping down onto his thighs – because Chay told him open, tongue and hasn’t commanded anything different yet.
Kim secure in Chay’s hold, Chay pushes his cock back into his waiting mouth. This time, he moves his hips, fucking into Kim in short little jerks. As he does, he kicks forward again, this time landing against Kim’s thigh – then the other one, pushing them as far apart as they will go with Kim still kneeling on the floor. Then, he moves his attention back to Kim’s cock, every short kick forcing a pained whine from his mouth. Kim feels himself grow limp, ecstasy running through his veins, replacing the blood there as his eyelids flutter. His hands clench where they have moved to curl on the floor in front of him, and Chay notices –
“You can hold onto me, puppy, go on –”
And Kim tries, he really does – he tries to say thank you, but, like before, all that comes out is a gurgling, indiscernible noise. His hands land atop Chay’s hips, and he moans at the feeling of Chay’s skin beneath his. This is what he’s made for, he thinks, as his eyes flit up to watch Chay panting through a smile, looking down at him with pride heavy in his eyes. He’s made to be at Chay’s feet, utterly consumed by him.
Abruptly, Chay pulls out. He’s still holding firmly onto Kim’s hair with one hand, and the other moves over himself fast. Kim can’t help but let out a breathless, giddy little giggle in anticipation; impossibly, he widens his mouth, sticking his tongue out as far as he can, and above him, Chay laughs quietly at his eagerness.
“Here you go, puppy, my perfect, well-behaved puppy – here it is – just for you,” Chay breathes, voice hitching just slightly as he begins to paint Kim’s face with white.
And it’s heaven.
Chay is quiet, only heavy, low breaths escaping him, but the noise Kim lets out is raw and animalistic; desperate and blissed out all at once. The feeling of Chay giving himself to him; allowing Kim to have something that came from his pleasure, is unlike anything Kim has, or will ever, experience. Chay’s come lands on Kim’s cheek; his tongue and his chin – and, as it does, Chay’s foot kicks him again, the blow landing hard against the base of his cock, this time staying there, dragging up the length of it –
And Kim is gone.
His fingertips dig into the skin of Chay’s hips as he comes, his own hips jerking in little spasms, thighs shaking. Joy sings through his veins at being allowed to feel like this – because, although Chay hadn’t ordered it, Kim knows that this was on purpose; Chay knows him better than anyone; knows him better than he knows himself. Every time he comes, it’s because Chay made it so, and this time is no different – Chay looks down on him in satisfaction as tears slip from the corners of Kim’s eyes and down his temples, head still tugged backwards by Chay’s grip. He’s making noises, he knows: unrestrained, high, choked-off whines as his orgasm wracks his body. He can feel his own come running down his cock, dirtying his thighs.
“Thank you,” Kim manages, still unable to pronounce the syllables properly with his mouth hanging open. He stares up at Chay with half-lidded, dazed eyes, breath shuddering as it leaves him. Chay smiles down at him, as he has done so many times.
“Tongue,” is all he says in response – and then, when Kim has pulled his tongue back into his mouth – “Close.”
In an instant, Kim’s mouth is closed. He waits. Pleased satisfaction gleams within Chay’s eyes.
“Swallow.”
Kim does, and then he thanks Chay again.
Chay only smiles.
After Chay cleans Kim of come, he orders him into their bed and crawls over him, hand sliding up to press against his throat, collar digging into Kim’s skin beneath it. Kim gives himself away entirely, head lolling back onto the pillow.
“You did well today, my Kim,” Chay whispers, lips so close to Kim’s. He passes the words to him, and Kim’s own lips part so that he can take them in readily.
“You love me so much, don’t you?” Chay continues, moving across Kim’s cheek. “You’d do anything for me.”
“Yes,” Kim breathes, struggling to stop his eyes from rolling back. “Anything.”
“Would you kill anyone for me?” asks Chay, voice low and dangerous.
“Yes,” Kim answers immediately.
“Even your brothers? Your father?” murmurs Chay, and – oh, it isn’t even a question.
“Yes,” Kim repeats, voice barely a breath. He feels the way that Chay laughs quietly, breath warm against his ear. It sets alight his bloodstream; makes his limbs go limp, all in the same moment.
“Good,” Chay says, so, so low. “Because if any of those answers had been a no…”
His hand tightens. For a moment, Kim can’t breathe.
“I’d kill you myself.”
“Yes,” Kim says, voice entwining with the rushed breath he lets out when Chay loosens his grip. “Thank you. Yes. Kill me. I love you, Chay, kill me.”
To an outsider, it would make no sense. To Kim, they are the clearest, truest words he’s ever spoken.
Pulling back, Chay moves into Kim’s vision once more. He’s smiling.
Kim smiles back.