Work Text:
Chan is pretending to work when Seungmin enters the room.
The clock in the corner of the laptop screen reads 9PM on the dot, meaning the sub is right on time, though that’s not very surprising. Unlike some subs (one sub in particular), Seungmin’s always punctual with these sessions, never dawdling in his room. The dawdling comes after he’s already arrived.
From his periphery, Chan glimpses the sub shuffling over to linger at the bedside, looking incredibly soft and rumpled, short hair messy and sticking up in some fifty different directions, drenched in a baggy hoodie and sweatpants. Chan wants to coo because cute, but he bites it back, knowing he has to play nonchalant right now. His hands resume flying across the keyboard.
The bed shifts when Seungmin climbs onto it, situating himself beside Chan, legs long in front of him.
“Hi.”
Chan smiles, pleased that the greeting itself didn’t take ten minutes this time. He tucks Seungmin under his arm and pulls him closer, smile only growing when Seungmin readily leans against his shoulder, idly watching the screen. So. Cute.
“Hey, baby. How are you?”
“‘m fine.” Silence, then a huffed laugh. “Were you pretending to type?”
Chan giggles, unashamed, knowing he’s seeing the plain desktop open on his laptop. “Yep.”
“What the hell.” Seungmin drives his forehead into Chan’s shoulder. “Is this some sort of dommy mind game?”
“Why would I need to be using dommy mind games right now?” Chan asks innocently, deliberately.
Seungmin does not reply. Chan casts the top of his fluffy head a sideways glance.
“Something you want to tell me, maybe? Something you want to ask?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Chan hums, unconvinced, and nuzzles a kiss to his hair, drawing an exasperated groan. “Well alright, then. You take your time.”
“Take my time with what? I’m just… here.”
“Sure, baby. Like I said, you just take your time.”
Deciding to actually get some work done, Chan clicks his emails open. While skimming through them isn’t hard, typing his responses one-handed admittedly is. He decides to suffer, not wanting to detach his arm from around his sub.
Cuddling Seungmin isn’t a rare occurrence by any means, but it definitely is compared to some of the other subs. Chan wants to savour it, though he knows he’ll be able to give Seungmin the cuddles of his life at… some point tonight. The sub’s record is a stubborn three hours and fifteen minutes, but that was, thankfully, ages ago. Chan is anticipating only around half an hour more tonight.
Seungmin turns his face out of his shoulder, silently squinting before he asks, “Who uses a smiley face in a work email?”
“Me,” Chan chuckles, petering off into stunned silence when the sub’s index finger appears before him, pressing the delete button. Once, twice, banishing his smiley face from existence. He clicks his tongue, gently tugging Seungmin’s wrist away. “Baby, don’t do that.”
“It’s not professional,” Seungmin mutters. “Just saying.”
“Okay, but I’m friends with this person, so you don’t have to go around deleting my smiley faces. Think of how they feel.”
“What’re you even talking about?” Seungmin moans incredulously, attempting to yank his wrist back, huffing when it doesn’t budge.
Chan is good at holding Seungmin in place, one of his carefully-honed dommy abilities. The sub isn’t slippery like Hyunjin by any means, rather batting limbs and stubbornly curling into a ball to escape a dom’s touch. It’s unfairly adorable, honestly, and Seungmin even likes it, he knows. Likes being manhandled and immobilised, any bait to get just that usually directed at Changbin (muscles, probably), but Chan still finds himself on the receiving end often enough.
Stilling with a small, unhappy noise, Seungmin buries his face anew in Chan’s shoulder. “I wasn’t even doing anything.”
Chan gives his wrist a firm squeeze, then drops it. “Let’s keep it like that, yeah?”
“Let’s keep it like what?” Seungmin grumbles. “Like I said, I wasn’t doing anything.”
Chan hides a grin. Oh, he is so fond, but unfortunately, now’s not the time to show that. “You were messing with my laptop, baby.”
“Well, yeah, your email was dumb,” Seungmin counters, unfazed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t do it again, okay?”
“Mm,” is the noncommittal response he gets.
The interaction should grate on Chan’s nerves, but it doesn’t so much right now. This is just part of the dawdling. Seungmin’s trying to egg him on, to make him give in, to make him force him. Well. It’s not going to work.
Continuing with his emails, he listens as Seungmin breathes evenly beside him, aware that he’s watching the screen again. Nothing happens for a while, but when Chan is about to hit Send, the sub’s hand materialises once more, knocking his own away, pressing the big fat X in the corner of the tab with lightning speed.
Chan watches with disbelief as his email vanishes from sight like the smiley face. At least a pop-up appears saying Saved as draft, but that’s not the point.
His pupils flicker down. “Baby.”
“What?”
“I told you not to do that again.”
Seungmin blinks up at him ingenuously, cheek smushed into his shoulder. “Do what?”
Chan quirks a brow, patience waning. He wonders offhandedly if he’ll have to respond to this sooner than he anticipated. He might. “You know what. I told you not to mess with my laptop.”
Seungmin stares up at him like he’s slow, and the way he keeps eye contact is genuinely impressive since the next words out of his mouth are a big fat lie, but the sub continues to be an anomaly like that. "I don’t remember you saying that.”
“Uh-huh.” Chan’s voice is unimpressed. “Keep this up and you’ll end up in the corner, okay? Now, is there something you want to ask me?”
“I dunno what you’re talking about.”
And so it continues. Chan gives him a teasing smile, tugging lightly at his hair. “Stubborn puppy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” Chan chuckles, about to re-open his draft when he spots a fresh email in his inbox, labelled Urgent. His brow furrows as he scans it. Group photoshoot, cancelled, rescheduled for next Monday, can he inform the others…
Pressing buttons is one thing, but Chan should’ve known it wouldn’t have ended there. One second his laptop is wide open, and the next a snap echoes throughout the room as it slams shut like a clamshell.
Chan can’t help an incredulous laugh from climbing up his throat. He blames himself, really, for trying to get actual work done tonight. He should know better.
Dommy sense apparently on and activated, he manages to catch Seungmin’s hand before it even slips from view. Seungmin lets out a groan, trying a fruitless yank before sending Chan a small pout.
“Let me goooo.”
Chan raises a brow, only tightening his grip. “If I let you go, will you go to the corner on your own?”
Seungmin just groans louder, though he does stop (because he is a good boy, Chan knows, it’s just hidden beneath layers of push), arm flopping still. “I’m not going to the corner.”
“I take that as a not on your own, then,” Chan says wryly, doing a few efficient moves to untangle himself from around the sub, then swap hands before he even notices, then get his computer off his lap. Sliding off the bed, he tugs Seungmin’s arm expectantly. “C’mon, baby. Cornertime.”
Seungmin is dead weight behind him. “Don’t you think it’s cruel giving me that and cornertime?”
“What’s that?” Chan asks teasingly, bodily lugging him over to the bedside, sighing when he immediately curls into a ball. “You know you’re just making this harder for yourself. The others are probably already done by now.”
“Done with what?” Seungmin mumbles into his knees.
Chan shakes his head with fond exasperation. Stubborn as a mule, this sub. If Seungmin were in genuine trouble, he probably wouldn’t be feeling quite this endeared, but this really is routine by now.
Sometimes he wonders if he needs to stop letting Seungmin go on for so long, if it’s only encouraging him. But he and the other doms have discussed it before, and they all figure Seungmin needs to get there on his own. That’s kind of the whole point. No forcing him, even if it requires a hefty dose of patience and an entire night with absolutely no plans, lest a certain sub delays them.
He decides to try a different approach, dropping the sub’s hand to pick him up instead. Chan considers himself very adept at all the different ways of wrangling a stubborn Seungmin. Despite being taller than him, the sub’s really not very big, no broad muscles for him to consider, so he curls his arms beneath him and lifts with only a little bit of difficulty, Seungmin settling down princess-style in his embrace.
There’s a blush crawling up his neck, but he hides his face in Chan’s shoulder before he can catch a proper view of it, batting blindly at his chest.
“Stoooop.”
He sounds so whiney all of a sudden that Chan can’t help but nuzzle his head, affection swelling within him. Seungmin just smacks his chest like it’s a bus door and he’s trying to get the driver’s attention. Chan doesn’t reprimand him, but he does make a mental note to add a little extra later on, just because his subs don’t hit him.
“This is unnecessary.”
Chan heads to a nearby corner. “I don’t see you trying to run away, though. I think this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Seungmin just grumbles to himself as Chan sets him down gently – or, as gently as he can – in the corner. He doesn’t even try to kneel properly, twisting into a defensive ball again, making Chan sigh. So he’s feeling this stubborn today. Seems Chan has to roll up his sleeves and slip into his head dom boots.
“Seungmin,” he starts seriously, squatting down and hooking a finger behind the sub’s collar – supple suede and something Chan’s never seen before, so he can only assume Jeongin went on another shopping spree –, giving it a firm tug.
With a small gasp, Seungmin’s hand immediately flies back to try and pry his away, but Chan remains undeterred, pulling a bit tighter before letting go.
“I know you’re just trying to get through this without having to ask me, but it’s not gonna work, okay? You have to ask at some point.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” Seungmin announces. “I can keep you here all night.”
“If you keep me here all night, I’m leashing you and keeping you at my side until you do ask,” Chan tells him frankly.
Seungmin peers around at him, face pinched in distaste. “That’s mean, sir.”
“It is mean.” Chan secures his arms around the sub and heaves, trying to manouevre him into a kneeling position. “But it would make you ask, you know.”
“Not necessarily,” Seungmin clips, and Chan huffs a laugh, knowing that’s a lie.
The sub is on his knees now, but slumped like a beanbag. Chan takes his shoulders and forces them upwards, then his hair to lift his chin, then drags his hands around to rest on his thighs. Some of the fight is leaving, he can tell, with how pliant he’s become. Manhandling always turns Seungmin into a ragdoll.
Chan adores this fact, because he really just adores moving his subs around. Not in a cruel way, by any means. Partly because it makes him feel big – even his taller subs feel tiny beneath his hands –, but mostly because of the trust. Guided by his touch, it’s like they become an extension of him. His.
“There,” he announces once the sub’s in proper position. “Five minutes, okay?”
Seungmin looks over his shoulder, cocking his head quizzically. “Just five?”
Chan pokes him back around. “Yeah, just five. You can’t ask if you’re in the corner, you know.”
“Fuck,” Seungmin curses quietly, not very inconspicuously.
“Saw right through you, didn’t I?” Chan teases, ruffling the sub’s hair before rising. “You know the rules, baby. Nice and quiet and good posture, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Seungmin grumbles.
The attitude should probably get some extra, too, Chan decides as he returns to the bed. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. If he gets to it tonight, but he has a feeling he will.
That feeling only grows when Seungmin remains in the corner, silent and still, not trying to just up and leave the room like he does sometimes. Chan's lips quirk fondly as he continues muddling through his emails. A good boy, under all that push.
“You can come out now, baby.”
Seungmin stands painstakingly slowly, facing the wall for a solid fifteen seconds before he turns. Staring pointedly at the floor, he drags his feet over to waver at the bedside. Seeming uncertain, which is a good sign. Probably teetering on the fence of giving in or not.
Chan puts his laptop aside, leaning over to peer into his eyes.
“Is there something you want to ask now?”
Seungmin peeks up at him hesitantly through his lashes, lips twitching. Chan nods encouragingly, and his gaze drifts down again, voice quiet when he asks, “Can you give me…?”
“Can I give you…?” Chan prompts.
Seungmin rubs his wrist, silent before he shrugs. “Nevermind.”
And then he starts shuffling out of the room. Chan rolls his eyes into the back of his head. So. Close.
He crosses the bed, catching the sub’s wrist before he can get away. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Seungmin flicks him a noncommittal glance. “Back to my room.”
The blunt response is admittedly funny, but Chan just shakes his head ruefully, tugging until the sub’s forced backwards to sit on the mattress with him. He traps him in a firm back-hug and hooks his chin on his shoulder. “No, you’re not. Wanna finish your question?”
Seungmin emits a noise of complaint, trying to shimmy away, but Chan just tightens his grip. “No.”
“You were close, you know,” Chan urges quietly. “Can I give you…? What?”
Seungmin sighs, stilling. “Can you give me permission to go back to my room?”
“Mm, no, not until we’re done here. Do you want the leash, baby?”
Seungmin turns to send him an unimpressed look. “It wouldn’t be much of a threat if I did, sir.”
Chan snorts a laugh. “Well, no, it wouldn’t. The threat remains, though. Leash or no leash, you’re going to ask me.”
Seungmin regards him silently for a moment, before his bottom lip protrudes in a small, deliberate pout, eyes rounding, sparkly and wet. Quietly he asks, “Please, sir?”
Even after so many years, Chan finds it hard remaining dommy when confronted by a pouting, pleading sub. Especially when it’s coming from one of his subs who rarely utilises their seemingly innate ability for puppy dog eyes, which Seungmin definitely is. He fights his resolve not to shake, arching a brow.
“You acting cute isn’t gonna make me change my mind. Either you ask now, or you ask later. It’s your choice.”
Seungmin’s nose scrunches, gaze drifting downwards. “You’re so serious about this.”
“I am,” Chan agrees readily. “So?”
A beat, and then a quiet, “It’s hard.”
Ah. A conversation that isn’t bratty.
“I know it’s hard,” Chan commiserates. “But I’ve explained why it’s important, haven’t I? Why it’s good for you?”
Seungmin shrugs. “Yeah. Even the NSS suggests it on their website, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”
“It’s just a few words,” Chan urges him softly. “And then a little more initiation before I can handle the rest, yeah? You can do it, baby.”
Seungmin doesn’t reply, just burying his face in his hands, a familiar action that means he’s embarrassed. Chan makes a small sound of sympathy, letting a palm drift idly over his sub’s body, settling on rubbing his belly, drawing a ticklish twitch. Otherwise, no reaction.
They stay like that, in silence, for a while. Chan lets the silence stretch, even if he does find himself vaguely itching for action now that this has drawn on as long as it has. He and Seungmin are similar in that regard, he thinks. Desperate for results. While Seungmin’s stems from a bratty need – his amusingly obvious, bratty ploys for dominance a loud cry for do somethings, do something right nows –, Chan’s just stems from a need to take care of his subs. He doesn’t like drawing out punishments longer than necessary, doesn’t like making the subs wait (unless it’s one certain switch, who is also terrible at telling Chan things, but would bare his teeth if Chan told him that he and Seungmin are incredibly, incredibly alike in their subby ways). He likes throwing a sub over his shoulder and whisking them off to deal with it Right Now. But sometimes, that’s not what his subs need, and Chan has learned to wrangle himself into playing the calm, patient dom, when the time is right.
“Can you…” Seungmin starts mumbledly into his hands once a good five minutes have passed between them. Chan waits with bated breath. “Can you please… give me… maintenance, sir?”
“Good, good boy,” Chan breathes, pressing a flurry of kisses to the sub’s cheek. “I love you, puppy.”
Seungmin’s ears go bright red as Chan unravels his arms, the sub standing slowly. He stays there facing the opposite wall with his face still hidden in his hands, before they tentatively lower, and Chan watches appreciatively as he hooks a finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down, then his boxers, until Chan has an eyeful of his ass. It is a cute ass, he’ll admit, small and perky, but there’s not time for those thoughts right now. The sub tugs shyly at the bottom of his hoodie when he finally turns, and he doesn’t even look at Chan then, fringe flopping into his eyes, chin tucked as he dutifully folds the clothes, setting them on the bed.
Honestly, Chan likes removing his subs’ clothes himself – again that extension, that trust –, but this isn’t about him, it’s about them. Maintenance is a special thing, different from a punishment on a biological level, a reminder that’s inexplicably good for hormonal regulation, and Chan decided to follow the NSS’s advice early on, to embrace that assertion of independence, knowing it’s necessary to really drive home its importance. So the subs ask for it, and so this whole back-and-forth came to be. It’s not meant to be embarrassing by any means, but it is meant to remind them that they need it.
He smiles encouragingly, scooting backwards to sit against the headboard. Seungmin shuffles over to the closer side of the bed, gaze still downcast, taking a hesitant seat on the edge. His posture is painfully rigid, and oh, Chan knows this is hard for him. But he’s almost there.
It’s only five long seconds, though, before he twists and kneels on the mattress, palms finding his knees, gaze finally venturing out from beneath his hair to eye Chan’s lap. And then, he stretches over to settle down across it, and Chan doesn’t miss the way his body goes lax the second he flops down, the low sigh he breathes into the duvet.
“Hardest part is over, yeah?” Chan asks quietly, knowingly, tugging a fluffy pillow over to place near the sub’s head.
Seungmin’s fingers curl blindly around the offering, drawing it closer to sink his face in, and he mumbles, “Yeah.”
“Such a good puppy.” Chan easily adjusts him, pulling him close to his belly. He sets a hand on his scalp to stroke the soft strands. “How many?”
“I dunno.”
“I dunno isn’t a good enough answer,” Chan chuckles, tugging chidingly at his hair before letting go. He brings his hoodie up to palm his ass instead, feeling the warm skin, not feeling particularly sorry that it’s going to be far warmer soon. “How many?”
Seungmin shifts, not unearthing his face. “… thirty?”
Chan pats his ass approvingly. Thirty is just right. Not too much, not too little. “Good boy. Thirty it is.”
He doesn’t waste any time bringing his hand down with a resounding smack, watching a pink handprint bloom on Seungmin’s right cheek. This might not be a punishment, but maintenance still isn’t meant to be particularly soft, so he knows it hurts, especially when Seungmin emits a small noise, leg jerking. He flops still shortly, though. Like a good boy.
He counts a mental one and immediately matches the swat on the other one, briefly soothing the irritated skin before building a steady rhythm. Chan’s never liked stretching out spankings, but especially not in situations like this. Even Minho doesn’t, fast, efficient. There’s no guilt to banish, nor brattiness (at least, not anymore). Fast, efficient, loving – that’s what maintenance should be.
Seungmin remains quiet as he continues, but the small movements of his feet, the way his toes pitch up momentarily on the mattress, don’t go unnoticed by Chan. Chan’s sure it doesn’t hurt as bad as it could, his bottom only just beginning to shade a nice pink, but he still pauses at fifteen, rubbing gentle circles into his warmed cheeks.
“Okay?"
Seungmin snuffles. “‘m fine.”
Chan sniffs a grin, stretching to muss his hair fondly. “Okay, then. Halfway there, baby.”
Seungmin’s head bobs in a short nod, and Chan takes that as his cue to start up again, deciding to move downwards. When his palm claps down on the sensitive under curve between ass and thigh, Seungmin breaks his silent streak to let out a muffled yelp, hand immediately flying backwards to shield himself.
Chan catches it easily, pinning it loosely to his back, and asks cheekily, “Need some help?”
Seungmin groans. “Don’t tease me, it hurt.”
Chan squeezes his wrist. “I’ll keep it here just in case, okay?”
Seungmin huffs. “Fine.”
Chan chuckles, smacking the sub’s other sit-spot, quirking a curious brow when Seungmin’s other arm jerks up at his side, then immediately flops down. “Need me to take that one as well?”
“Shut up, sir,” Seungmin mumbles, not very threateningly.
With a hum, Chan snags his other wrist to add to his collection. “Think I should just in case, too. Don’t want anything getting in the way of your maintenance, do we?”
“Oh my god,” Seungmin bemoans in English. “I said shut up.”
“About that –” Chan starts up again, peppering Seungmin’s thighs with a few deft swats, then moving back to his bottom. “How many for the attitude, baby?”
“What attit – ude?” Seungmin lapses back into his mother tongue, obviously straining to sound nonchalant, voice cracking a little, hips shifting.
“Smacking my chest, muttering under your breath, telling me to shut up,” Chan lists casually, splaying his fingers wide when he smacks Seungmin’s cheek, then gently squeezing the warm skin. “Think you might need some punishment swats, too.”
“That’s mea –” Seungmin yelps, wrists jerking anew when Chan’s hand cracks down on the same spot. “Ow.”
“I think maybe ten more should be good,” Chan continues, landing two rapidfire blows to the other side. “Does ten sound good?”
“Sir, I’m soft and weak, you shouldn’t go so hard.”
“Seems I unleashed the brat again,” Chan teases, patting his ass in sympathy. “Sorry, puppy. I’ll be quick, alright?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, just dealing out the remaining blows with quick precision, brow furrowing in concentration. Thirty comes quickly, but he keeps going, angling downwards to catch his thighs and sit-spots again. To Seungmin’s credit, the sub doesn’t squirm much the longer he continues, just letting out a few pained yelps. His tendency to flop still like a dead fish the second a dom manhandles him does, in fact, extend to his punishments, an endearing habit.
He finishes up with a final, good smack to the middle of his bottom, the heated skin bouncing beneath his palm. The second it lands, Chan’s ears prick to hear a sniffle.
It always takes a while for Seungmin to cry, and usually happens post-spanking, sometimes even after he’s already been brought in for cuddles. Chan has asked before, curious, and he’s explained that the emotions just well up inside of him while he’s actually getting smacked, caught in his throat. The second it’s over, though, they come flooding out.
With a quiet coo, Chan releases his wrists. They flop to the sub’s sides as Chan pats his bottom carefully. “There we go, baby. All done.”
Seungmin sniffles again into the sheets, unresponsive. It’ll take him a while to reply, Chan knows. He needs time to process things first. Words are secondary.
“My good puppy,” he settles on soft praise, cupping a cheek, feeling the heat warm his palm. “Asked so nicely for his maintenance, yeah? Such a good puppy.”
Seungmin turns his face out of the sheets, and Chan’s heart clenches at the sight of his eyes, red-rimmed and watery. The tears haven’t started leaking yet, still trapped in their glassy prison. “‘m sorry, sir.”
“Yeah?”
Seungmin nods smally, resting his cheek against the sheets. “Yeah. Sorry for… being so… bratty.”
He mumbles the last word, as if not wanting to say it. Chan’s eyes crinkle.
“I forgive you, baby. I’m just proud of you for asking. I know it’s hard, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Seungmin agrees roughly. “‘s hard.”
“Proud of youuuu,” Chan coos, ruffling his hair fondly. “You wanna get up, or do you need to spend some more time down there?”
Another nod that Chan’s not sure which answer is supposed to give, but Seungmin shifts slightly, so Chan takes it as an affirmative to the former. He obligingly helps him, pulling him up to straddle his lap. The sub lets out a small noise of complaint when he settles down, shifting forward and stuffing his face into Chan’s shirt, arms hanging loose at his sides. Another sniffle.
“C’mere, you,” Chan murmurs, wrapping him in a strong embrace. Despite his rather lanky stature, Seungmin fits so nicely in his arms, soft and warm when he presses up against him. “Such a good boy. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
“I know. I –” His breath hitches. “I – it’s just – I just –”
Chan squeezes him to his chest, petting his hair. “Shh, baby, shh.”
Yet another sniffle, followed shortly by a small sob, the sub’s body quivering when it hits him. Chan nuzzles his scalp, pressing absentminded kisses to it.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, feeling his shirt dampen as the tears finally flood out. “Let it out, puppy. Just let it out.”
Chan doesn’t really enjoy his subs’ tears – they can be satisfying at times, sure, but even then he mostly takes them as a sign that he’s doing something right –, but clutching Seungmin to his front, listening to the sub let go and finally weep, settles something deep in his chest. He doesn’t dwell on the sensation for too long, just continuing to murmur idle sweet nothings between feather-light kisses, the fresh scent of the sub’s shampoo tickling his nose.
When the sobs have died down, the air now just filled with intermittent sniffles, Seungmin mumbles, “It feels wrong to say this feels nice. But it kind of does.”
Chan smiles into his hair. “Yeah? The cuddling or the spanking?”
“I dunno.” An aggressive sniffle. “Both?”
“Think that’s normal,” Chan replies, only slightly teasingly. “Subby hormones and all.”
“Well, yeah, but with maintenance it’s – different. Initiating it like that… it’s… different.”
“What do you know? Seems the NSS was right,” now Chan is teasing him, and Seungmin bats half-heartedly at his bicep.
“Stop, sir,” he groans as Chan sends a hand flying out to blindly catch his wrist, but there’s not much bite behind it.
“I’m just teasing, baby, sorry,” Chan chuckles, smooching the crown of his head. “I really am proud of you. Only took you, what? Half an hour this time? You’ve been getting a lot better, you know.”
“It’s a silly thing to be proud of.”
Chan hums, deciding to end the kisses, instead letting his fingers travel up to slip beneath the sub’s collar, gently massaging his sensitive nape. Seungmin shudders. “Not silly at all. I’m just happy you’re getting more comfortable with it. Maintenance doesn’t have to be a big thing, you know.”
Seungmin emits an unimpressed noise, deadpanning, “I’m not gonna become Hyunjin, all ready and eager to climb over your lap, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Chan chuckles, pressing lightly into his nape. “Maybe a neutral approach is more doable, yeah? Doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just something you need – like eating, or sleeping.”
Seungmin falls silent, before shrugging shyly. “I guess. I dunno.”
“You’ve made a lot of progress already, though, and I really am proud of you for that.” Chan can’t help pecking his head one last time. “You’re such a good boy, Seungmin.”
“Good boy seems a little far-fetched,” Seungmin mumbles, letting out a small, pitiful whine when Chan purposefully jostles him on his lap. “Ow, stop.”
“No talking bad about my sub,” Chan chides. “If I say you’re a good boy, you’re a good boy. End of discussion.”
“Could be a good boy,” Seungmin concedes. “It’s not impossible.”
“Mm. Not impossible at all. Very highly possible, actually.”
“Shut u – be quiet, sir.”
“That’s hardly better, you know.”
Seungmin bumps his head against his chest in retaliation. “I’m trying.”
Chan breathes a fond laugh. “I know, baby, and I appreciate that. My good puppy.”
“Mong.”
“Mm. Mong to you, too, baby.”