Work Text:
Beomgyu’s curled up on the couch, knees tucked to his chest, scrolling on his phone like he’s got better things to do than pay attention to the smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. Soobin leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with that quiet, patient look that’s never really patient.
“Princess,” he calls softly, voice like warm syrup, “you haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m not hungry,” Beomgyu mutters, not looking up.
Soobin steps closer, slow enough that Beomgyu doesn’t notice until he’s standing over him. “That’s not what I asked.” His tone doesn’t sharpen, but it doesn’t have to—Beomgyu knows better. “I made this for you. You’ll eat it, won’t you?”
Beomgyu finally looks up, pouting like the brat Soobin knows he is. “I don’t want it. It’s too much—”
“Too much for my pretty princess?” Soobin tilts his head, feigning sympathy. Then, with a low chuckle, he crouches down, resting a big hand on Beomgyu’s knee. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Beomgyu’s breath catches when Soobin’s other hand slips under his jaw, tilting his head up. There’s no bite to it, but the control is obvious, unshakable. “Open your mouth.”
“Soobin—”
A raised brow, a press of fingers at his chin, and Beomgyu’s lips part without another word. Soobin slips the first bite between them, slow, watching him chew. “Good boy,” he says, even softer, almost a purr. “That’s it. Doesn’t that taste nice?”
Beomgyu glares up at him but swallows. Soobin doesn’t move his hand from Beomgyu’s jaw, thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. “Another,” he murmurs, lifting the spoon again.
It’s easy at first—Soobin feeding him, murmuring soft praises like they’re sharing something intimate. “You’re so cute when your cheeks are full. Look at you, doing so well for me…”
But then the bites keep coming. Soobin doesn’t stop, doesn’t ask if Beomgyu’s full—he just presses another spoonful to his lips, waiting for him to open. When Beomgyu hesitates, Soobin slides his thumb against his lower lip, a subtle push. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
The food is sweet but heavy, each bite sitting like lead in Beomgyu’s stomach. He shifts, trying to lean back, but Soobin catches his chin, thumb smearing a bit of sauce across his cheek. “Messy boy,” Soobin hums, leaning in to lick it off, slow and deliberate. “You like when I take care of you, don’t you? Don’t act shy now.”
Beomgyu whines low in his throat, eyes fluttering. His stomach’s already warm and uncomfortably full, but Soobin’s hand on his jaw keeps him grounded, trapped.
“Just one more,” Soobin lies, sliding the next spoonful between his lips. “Good boy. You’re my perfect little princess when you listen.”
Beomgyu’s already starting to squirm, his legs shifting restlessly against the couch cushions. He looks up at Soobin with wide, reluctant eyes, mouth still slightly parted as he swallows the last bite. His lips are slick, a little reddened from Soobin’s thumb pressing and dragging at them.
“Hyung,” he murmurs, a faint whine tucked into the word. “I can’t…”
Soobin tilts his head, spoon hovering just close enough for Beomgyu to see the next bite waiting for him. “You can,” he says softly, like he’s soothing a stubborn child. “Be a good boy for me, princess. You can take a little more, can’t you?”
Beomgyu shakes his head, but Soobin doesn’t let him move far—his hand is still under Beomgyu’s jaw, thumb resting just at the corner of his lips. A subtle push, and Beomgyu’s mouth opens again, almost by instinct. The spoon slides in, warm and heavy against his tongue.
“There you go,” Soobin praises, eyes half-lidded as he watches Beomgyu chew. “That’s my boy. So pretty when you listen to me.”
The food tastes sweet but cloying now, like too much of it is sticking to Beomgyu’s throat. He swallows hard, his chest rising and falling faster. Soobin notices, of course he does—he’s watching every flicker of Beomgyu’s throat, the way his lashes flutter as he tries to handle the fullness in his stomach.
“You’re doing so well,” Soobin murmurs, leaning in closer. “I’ll kiss you after this one. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Beomgyu hesitates—Soobin smiles, slow and sharp. “C’mon, open up for hyung. Don’t be stubborn now.”
The next bite goes in. Beomgyu chews slower, almost too slow, and Soobin’s thumb presses gently under his chin. “Swallow,” he instructs, voice dropping. “Good boy. Just like that. You’re perfect for me.”
When a little bit of sauce smears at the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth, Soobin licks it off, dragging his tongue across the mess with a noise that makes Beomgyu shiver. “Mmm. Sweet. Just like you.”
Beomgyu shifts uncomfortably on the couch, his hand sneaking down to press against his stomach. It’s already tight and warm, heavy with everything Soobin’s been feeding him, but the spoon doesn’t stop coming.
“Hyung… I’m full,” Beomgyu mumbles, voice thin, almost pleading. “I can’t eat anymore.”
Soobin hums low in his throat, like he’s actually considering it. Then he smiles, leaning closer until Beomgyu can feel the heat of his breath against his cheek. “You’re full?” he asks, almost cooing. “Oh, my pretty boy… you’re only full because I’ve been taking care of you so well. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Beomgyu doesn’t answer, his lips pressed tight. That’s a mistake—Soobin tilts his chin up again, thumb brushing along his bottom lip. “Don’t pout. Open.”
“Hyung, I—”
“Beomgyu,” Soobin cuts in, his voice still calm but with that edge that leaves no room for argument. “Open for me. Don’t make me ask again.”
Beomgyu’s breath shudders, but he obeys, mouth parting just enough for Soobin to slide another spoonful between his lips.
“That’s it,” Soobin murmurs, thumb pressing lightly under his chin until Beomgyu swallows. “Good boy. You’re perfect like this. So obedient. My pretty princess.”
Beomgyu makes a soft, frustrated sound, his lashes wet as he blinks. “It’s too much,” he whispers, voice catching.
Soobin doesn’t stop—he sets the spoon aside just long enough to scoop a bit of sauce with his finger, swiping it across Beomgyu’s lips. “Messy boy,” he says, but his tone is tender, almost loving. “Let hyung help.” His tongue slides across Beomgyu’s mouth, slow, savoring, before he pushes the finger in past his lips.
“Such a good mouth,” Soobin murmurs as he drags his finger out. “You can take a little more for me. Just one more bite, hmm?”
Beomgyu’s stomach clenches at the thought. He whines, shaking his head. “Hyung, I’ll be sick…”
Soobin’s grin sharpens, and he cups Beomgyu’s face fully now, thumb rubbing slow circles over his cheek. “Will you? My poor baby. That’s okay. I’ll take care of you if you get sick.”
Beomgyu’s breathing unevenly now, his stomach stretched so tight he can barely sit still. He leans back against the couch cushions, half-lidded eyes watching Soobin with something between defiance and surrender.
“Hyung, I’m serious,” he mutters, voice low, like he’s afraid saying it too loud will set Soobin off. “I’m gonna throw up.”
Soobin tilts his head slightly, studying him like he’s not sure whether Beomgyu’s warning is a threat or a promise. Then, with a soft, amused hum, he scoops up another spoonful. “If you do,” he says simply, “I’ll hold you through it. Don’t think you’re getting out of this that easily.”
Beomgyu’s lips stay stubbornly shut this time. His jaw clenches.
“Open,” Soobin says, calm but firm.
Beomgyu shakes his head.
Soobin sighs quietly, setting the spoon down on the edge of the bowl. His hand comes up to cup Beomgyu’s face, thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth. “Don’t make me force it. You know I will.”
There’s a pause, heavy and tense. Beomgyu swallows hard, eyes flicking to Soobin’s. The fight in him falters—slowly, reluctantly, he parts his lips.
“Good boy,” Soobin murmurs, sliding the spoon in. He watches Beomgyu chew, his free hand resting against the back of his neck, not rough, just there, reminding him he can’t pull away.
Beomgyu tries to swallow but coughs, the taste too heavy, his throat straining. Soobin’s thumb moves to his jaw, steadying him. “Easy. Breathe. Swallow for me.”
When Beomgyu finally chokes it down, his eyes are watering. He brings a hand to his mouth, but Soobin catches his wrist halfway.
“Hey.” Soobin’s voice drops, quiet but unshakable. “None of that. You’re fine.”
Beomgyu shakes his head weakly. “I can’t…” He hiccups, chest trembling as he swallows again, trying to settle his stomach.
Soobin’s lips curve into something that’s not quite a smile. He dips his fingers into the bowl, scooping up a bit of sauce, and smears it across Beomgyu’s lips like he’s marking him. “Open up. No more whining.”
Beomgyu lets out a shaky breath but obeys. Soobin slides two fingers into his mouth this time, pressing the sauce against his tongue.
“Hold it there,” Soobin says, voice steady. He pushes in deeper, slow, until Beomgyu gags around his fingers, eyes squeezing shut.
“There it is,” Soobin murmurs, watching his throat tighten. “That’s how I know you’re trying.”
Beomgyu’s stomach lurches the moment Soobin’s fingers press deeper. He coughs, gagging around them, his hands instinctively gripping Soobin’s wrist. His throat spasms as his whole body trembles, the taste and fullness becoming too much to bear.
“Hyung—” It’s garbled around Soobin’s fingers, barely a sound at all. His chest heaves, panic flashing in his eyes.
Soobin doesn’t pull away right away. He watches Beomgyu’s face, every twitch of his lips, every wet breath between gags. “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice almost soothing. “You’re okay. Just let it happen.”
Beomgyu’s eyes roll slightly as another wave hits—his cheeks puff as he tries to swallow, but it’s too late. He jerks forward, retching, and Soobin finally withdraws his fingers, sliding them out of Beomgyu’s mouth with a quiet, approving hum.
“There we go,” Soobin says as Beomgyu coughs and chokes, collapsing forward into his lap. “Knew you couldn’t keep it in.”
Beomgyu’s hands shake as he braces himself against Soobin’s thigh, gagging again. The food comes up this time, messy and wet, and Soobin doesn’t flinch. His big hand finds Beomgyu’s back, rubbing slow circles.
“That’s it,” Soobin murmurs, low and calm. “Get it all out, baby. You’re still my good boy.”
Beomgyu whimpers, coughing as tears streak his flushed cheeks. He looks wrecked, humiliated—exactly how Soobin likes him.
When Beomgyu finally sags against him, breathing hard, Soobin wipes at his mouth with his thumb, smearing the mess away like it’s nothing. Then, without hesitation, he tilts Beomgyu’s face up and presses his thumb past his lips again, making him suck it clean.
“You’re so pretty like this,” Soobin whispers, leaning in to kiss the corner of his wet mouth. “Look at you… all mine.”
Beomgyu tries to mumble something, but Soobin shushes him, kissing him harder this time, uncaring of the taste. His other hand slides down Beomgyu’s stomach, feeling the slight tremble still left from retching.
Beomgyu barely has time to catch his breath before another gag hits. He leans forward, shaking, and Soobin’s hand is already there, steadying him.
“Let it out, baby,” Soobin murmurs, voice low and almost soothing. “Hyung’s got you.”
Beomgyu heaves again, the sound rough and wet, his whole body trembling as his stomach clenches. Soobin just keeps rubbing his back in slow, firm circles, murmuring, “That’s it, my pretty boy. You’re okay. Just breathe. Good boy…”
It’s humiliating, the mess dripping from his lips, tears running down his face, but Soobin looks at him like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. He catches Beomgyu’s chin when the retching slows, tilting his face up and wiping his mouth with the edge of his thumb.
“You did so well,” Soobin says softly. He presses the cleaned thumb against Beomgyu’s lips. “Open.”
Beomgyu shakes his head weakly, but Soobin pushes just enough for him to part his lips, slipping the thumb inside. “There. Good boy. Suck.”
Beomgyu’s cheeks hollow slightly, eyes half-shut as Soobin’s thumb drags over his tongue. Soobin watches him with an unreadable expression, something dark and fond all at once.
“Perfect,” he whispers, leaning closer until their foreheads almost touch. “My perfect princess.”
Beomgyu’s stomach gives a weak gurgle, and he makes a small, embarrassed noise. Soobin smiles at the sound and lets his hand trail down, pressing lightly over his stomach. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” he says softly. “So full for me…”
Beomgyu whines, squirming, but when Soobin’s fingers dip lower, brushing over the waistband of his shorts, he shudders.
“You’re soaked,” Soobin murmurs, voice low and knowing. His fingers press against the damp fabric between Beomgyu’s legs.
Beomgyu’s face flushes, lips trembling as he shakes his head—but Soobin just smirks faintly, sliding his fingers under the waistband to touch him properly.
Soobin’s fingers slip under Beomgyu’s shorts, finding him wet and trembling. Beomgyu gasps when the first touch lands, hips twitching like he wants to move but can’t decide which way.
“Stay still,” Soobin says quietly, not unkind but not giving him room to argue.
Beomgyu makes a faint sound, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s still shaky, breath uneven from everything that just happened. Soobin presses in slowly, just one finger, dragging it through the wet heat until Beomgyu shivers.
His eyes flicker open, glassy and unsure. “Hyung…” It’s barely more than a whisper.
Soobin hums low in response, adding a second finger without warning. The stretch makes Beomgyu gasp, his nails curling against Soobin’s arm, but he doesn’t pull away. He never does.
“You’re already so wet,” Soobin mutters, almost to himself. He scissors his fingers, slow and deliberate, watching Beomgyu’s face shift with every movement.
Beomgyu tries to hide his reaction, burying his face against Soobin’s shoulder, but his body betrays him—hips rolling just a little, breath stuttering when Soobin finds that spot inside him and presses.
“Don’t hide,” Soobin says quietly, leaning close enough for Beomgyu to feel his breath against his ear. “I want to see you.”
Beomgyu’s lashes flutter as his head tips back, exposing the column of his neck, throat still red from earlier. Soobin drags his thumb over Beomgyu’s clit, slow and steady, until Beomgyu’s thighs tremble and a broken sound escapes his throat.
Soobin’s fingers move with an unhurried rhythm, pressing deep, curling just enough to drag a gasp from Beomgyu’s lips every time. His thumb stays steady on Beomgyu’s clit, circling slowly, almost lazily, like he has all the time in the world to unravel him.
Beomgyu’s back arches against the couch, his breathing uneven, shaky. Each thrust of Soobin’s fingers makes a wet, obscene sound, and Soobin watches with sharp, unblinking eyes, his free hand holding Beomgyu’s thigh down when it tries to jerk away.
A low, desperate noise slips out of Beomgyu’s throat—half whine, half moan. His face is flushed, eyes glassy as he blinks up at Soobin like he’s barely holding it together.
“Shhh,” Soobin murmurs, though it’s barely a word, more a quiet hush against Beomgyu’s cheek. He pushes his fingers deeper, curling them hard enough to make Beomgyu’s hips jump.
Beomgyu’s nails dig into the couch, knuckles white. He’s trembling, thighs tensing and loosening with every wave of sensation. His breath catches on each exhale, a thin, broken sound between his teeth.
Soobin keeps going—steady, ruthless. He shifts slightly, pressing down on Beomgyu’s stomach with his other hand, just enough for the pressure to make him squirm harder.
The combination is too much. Beomgyu lets out a strangled cry, his whole body tightening as his pussy clenches around Soobin’s fingers. The orgasm rips through him in a mess of trembling legs and choked moans, his face damp with tears and sweat.
Soobin doesn’t stop right away—he slows, dragging out every spasm, every twitch of Beomgyu’s body, until Beomgyu collapses against him, breathing hard.
When Soobin finally pulls his fingers out, they’re soaked. He rests them against Beomgyu’s lips for a moment, but doesn’t push—just lets him feel the weight of it, the way Soobin’s looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever ruined.
Beomgyu’s still trembling when Soobin pushes his shorts down, peeling the damp fabric off his thighs. He’s loose and sensitive, his pussy clenching weakly around nothing, still fluttering from the orgasm.
Soobin doesn’t give him time to recover. He shifts Beomgyu onto his back, one big hand braced on his thigh to keep him open. “Don’t close up on me,” he mutters, voice low, almost a growl.
Beomgyu whines softly, trying to catch his breath, but Soobin is already lining up, sliding in slow but unrelenting. The stretch pulls another broken sound from his throat—too much, too soon, but his body takes it.
Soobin hisses under his breath as he bottoms out, staying there for a moment just to feel the way Beomgyu tightens around him. “Fuck,” he breathes, though it’s almost like he’s speaking to himself. “You’re perfect like this.”
Beomgyu’s hands scrabble at Soobin’s shoulders, his breath shallow. He opens his mouth to say something, but Soobin presses two fingers in before the words can come out.
“Shh. Don’t talk,” Soobin says, pushing the fingers deeper, curling them against Beomgyu’s tongue. “Just take it.”
Beomgyu’s gagging almost immediately, the fullness in his throat mixing with the way Soobin starts to move, slow thrusts that build into something rougher. Each snap of his hips makes Beomgyu’s body jolt, the vibrations of his muffled noises running straight into Soobin’s palm.
“Breathe through your nose,” Soobin mutters, watching Beomgyu’s watery eyes. “You can handle it.”
But Beomgyu can’t—not really. His throat convulses, and Soobin feels the wet gag around his fingers before Beomgyu pulls back, retching hard. Soobin doesn’t stop moving. He pulls his fingers out just enough for Beomgyu to cough and spit up a bit, his chest heaving, before pushing them right back in.
“That’s it,” Soobin says, his voice dark, steady. “Make a mess for me.”
Beomgyu’s stomach clenches again, another wave hitting as Soobin fucks into him, the motion relentless. He chokes on Soobin’s fingers, a tear sliding down his cheek as his whole body shakes.
Soobin slows for a moment, leaning down to kiss the side of Beomgyu’s wet face. “Good boy,” he murmurs against his skin, fingers still buried in his mouth. “Cry for me. You look so fucking pretty like this.”
Soobin keeps moving, hips snapping into Beomgyu with a rhythm that’s brutal in its steadiness. Beomgyu’s body is trembling, muscles tight, every thrust forcing out muffled, broken sounds around Soobin’s fingers.
His face is flushed and wet, spit and tears mixing on his cheeks as he gags, throat tightening again. Soobin watches every twitch, every choke with sharp, focused eyes, never easing up.
“You feel that?” Soobin mutters, low, his breath hot against Beomgyu’s ear. “Taking me so well. Even when you’re crying like this.”
Beomgyu’s hips twitch helplessly, trying to move but pinned down by Soobin’s weight. When Soobin drags his thumb over Beomgyu’s clit again, the reaction is instant—a sharp, broken moan around Soobin’s fingers, his pussy clenching hard.
“Yeah,” Soobin breathes, curling his fingers in Beomgyu’s mouth just as he curls his thumb below. “Cum for me. Right now.”
Beomgyu shakes his head weakly, overwhelmed, but his body betrays him. His back arches, legs trembling violently as the orgasm hits—sharp, messy, a wave of overstimulation crashing through him. Soobin fucks him through it, not slowing, fingers still filling his mouth as he gags and moans around them.
The tight, wet pulses around him drag Soobin closer to his own edge. His breathing gets harsher, his thrusts deeper, heavier. “Fuck—” He pulls his fingers free just enough for Beomgyu to gasp in a wet, desperate breath before pushing them back in, watching his lips stretch around them.
When Soobin finally cums, he presses in deep, spilling inside Beomgyu with a sharp groan, his forehead resting against Beomgyu’s. He doesn’t pull out right away—just stays there, buried to the hilt, letting Beomgyu feel every pulse of it.
Beomgyu’s chest is still rising and falling like he can’t get enough air. His mouth is red and slick from Soobin’s fingers, his whole body trembling under Soobin’s weight.
Soobin finally pulls his fingers free, brushing them gently over Beomgyu’s lips, and presses a soft kiss there. “That’s it,” he murmurs, almost too quiet to hear. “My good boy.”
Soobin finally eases out, careful and slow, his hands steadying Beomgyu’s hips when he winces. A soft whimper slips from Beomgyu’s throat, and Soobin immediately leans down, kissing his temple.
“Shhh. It’s okay. Hyung’s here,” he murmurs, his voice warm, almost tender now. “You did so well for me.”
Beomgyu’s breathing is still shaky, his lashes sticking together with tears. He looks wrecked, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and damp. Soobin cups his face with one hand, thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone as he studies him.
“My pretty princess,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth. “Look at you… you’re perfect.”
Beomgyu hums faintly, eyes half-closed. He’s too tired to talk, but he leans into Soobin’s touch, his body relaxing under the warmth of his hands.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Soobin pulls his shirt off and uses the soft fabric to wipe away the mess between Beomgyu’s thighs, careful not to make him flinch. Every touch is slow, deliberate, like Soobin’s worshipping him now that the worst of his hunger is sated.
When he’s done, Soobin pulls Beomgyu into his lap, cradling him against his chest. He presses a long kiss into his hair, breathing him in like he’s the only thing in the world that matters.
“You’re safe,” Soobin murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Hyung’s got you. Always.”
Beomgyu shifts slightly, curling up in Soobin’s arms like a spoiled cat. His fingers clutch weakly at Soobin’s shirt, and that’s all it takes for Soobin to tighten his hold, rocking him just a little.
“Sleep,” he says, lips brushing Beomgyu’s hair. “I’ll take care of everything.”