Chapter Text
Chan always looked so pretty on his knees. Objectively. Minho wasn't allowed to fall for his clients, but he didn't like Chan like that. He didn't hate working for him occasionally. That didn't mean he was in love. Do not fall for your clients. It was a simple rule, honestly.
And Minho wasn't in love with Chan, but as he said, he looked so pretty. His white shirt, which was definitely ironed by some sort of glorified maid earlier, was now wrinkled, half of the buttons undone. His tie was loose. Pants discarded long ago, but his underwear still clung to his frame, and if Minho shifted his gaze slightly, he could see his cock straining against the thin fabric. His black hair was dishevelled, and he was breathing so, so heavily. His plush lips parted slightly, too. The tips of his ears red. Pretty.
Minho regarded him from what was actually Chan's desk chair, but for all intents and purposes it was Minho's now. Rich people could afford comfy chairs, and Minho could just about fall asleep if he wasn't slightly turned on.
Chan liked requesting office scenes, something about the thrill of potentially getting caught, even though he and Minho were the only two people on the three floors of Chan's company. Everyone else was sent home long ago — considering it was just past ten at night. If only they knew their boss was paying someone to dominate him. He had picked the right person, though.
The electric fireplace a few metres away from the two of them flooded the room with a comforting glow, a contrast to what was actually happening. Floor length windows spanned the outside walls, providing Minho with a nice view of Seoul's skyline if he looked over and past Chan's head.
Minho's eyes narrowed, studying Chan's body language for any sign of being uncomfortable, but he found nothing. Every pore in Chan's body wanted to scream for Minho to do something, but Chan knew better than to beg, just yet, anyway.
At ten on the dot, Minho had walked into Chan's office and sat in his chair. The only instruction given to him was to discard his pants. Which he had all but ripped off, and as the time dragged on, he was clearly getting more desperate, and Minho loved every second.
"Sir—" Chan started. Minho cut him off with a sigh. He shut up almost immediately. Minho turned around, his delicate fingers brushed the surface of Chan's desk until they found his reading glasses. He picked them up and slid them onto his face, hoping they made him look at least slightly more intimidating.
"Channie… Channie… Channie…" Minho turned back around, and his heated gaze turned Chan into a puddle — legs spreading just a little. "What am I gonna do with you?"
Minho turned around again and plucked a pen off of Chan's desk. It looked expensive. Shame. He started chewing on the end, drawing attention to his mouth as he thought to himself. He could really go for a blowjob right now, and he knew Chan would be more than happy to oblige. Plus, it's not like Minho would be done after one orgasm. Chan was paying good money — great money even — and Minho was going to make it as good for Chan as possible.
"You want me to fuck you?" Minho asked. Chan immediately nodded. "'You using that plug I told you to use earlier?"
"Yes, sir." Chan flushed crimson, squirming uncomfortably, but Minho just smirked.
"All day?"
He nodded again.
"Good boy." Minho patted his leg, watching through his glasses as Chan crawled up to him. He felt Chan's heated breath brush his leg lightly through the fabric as he eyed his crotch hungrily. Not even bothering to look Minho in the eye. His hands move to caress Minho's thighs, but he jerks away. He wasn't allowed to touch him, not yet, especially when he didn't even ask for permission.
"Can I please suck you off?" There it was. "Please…"
"You may." Was all Minho said in reply, not moving at all. If Chan wanted to do this, he was going to have to work for it. Minho could see how much he was aching for relief, but he still wanted to suck Minho first — he had trained him so well.
Minho tossed the pen toward the window without a second glance. He ran his fingers through his bleached-blonde hair and sighed as Chan's trembling fingers fiddled with his belt.
"Do you need me to do it for you?" Minho asked, and Chan shook his head immediately. He watched as Chan finally got the belt undone, rushing to pull his jeans and boxers halfway down Minho's thick thighs. Of course, Minho barely moved, relishing Chan's desperation as each tug of his pants made him whimper.
Until finally, Chan pulled Minho out. The smallest bit of precum ran down Minho's slit, beading at the ball of his apadravya piercing. He could see the drool that had pooled in Chan's mouth right before he took all of Minho in his mouth without another word. No teasing, no licking, just as much as he could take all at once.
He didn't deserve to hear it affect Minho, so all he did was sigh and run his fingers through Chan's hair.
"Eager are we?" Minho teased, choking on his words as Chan bobbed his head. So eager to please. His hips thrust into nothing, in time with the bobbing of his head as he pleasured Minho. The look in his eyes — the look of pure desperation — told Minho everything he needed to know.
He sucked in a breath between his teeth, watching Chan work through the thin glasses still perched on his nose.
"Such a slut for me." Minho tightened his grip on Chan's hair, the brown waves threading through his fingers as he guided his movements. He looked up at him with big wet eyes. A silent question. "Mhm, this is the only thing you're good for, isn't it? Sucking me off… hm?"
Chan nodded.
"Feels good, Channie…" Minho assured him, letting the pleasure build, just a little. "Maybe you are a good boy…"
It was as if this statement triggered something in Chan, and he doubled down his movements. Soft gagging noises escaped from him periodically as he pushed his limits on how much Minho he could take. Minho just leaned back and admired his work, the way drool was leaking out of his mouth, escaping every time Chan took a quick breath. Minho really liked his job sometimes.
It's not like he hated Chan. He hated none of his clients, actually. If he did, he would've ended their contracts already. He would even consider himself friends with a lot of them. They had just been his clients for that long. But that was out of scene, in scene, he had to concentrate on doing exactly what they were paying him to do. Take away and shoulder all of their problems for an hour.
"You're such a pretty fucking whore…" Minho pushed Chan's head further, just a little. He made a noise of surprise, but forced himself even further before returning to his normal bobbing. Minho was getting close.
"Ah—stop, Channie," Minho pulled Chan off his cock for him.
"Was it not good?" Chan asked. Minho saw through his bullshit. He was fishing for praise. That's not what he needed, or even wanted, right now. So, Minho ignored his question, and he definitely ignored the small smile on Chan's face.
"Desk, now," Minho said, doing his pants back up. Chan started shuffling his things to the ends of his desk. "Did I tell you to move your things?"
"No."
"Then what are you doing?" Minho asked, pressing his body into Chan's, giving him no choice but to bend over and grip the desk. With his free hands, Minho finished gathering Chan's paperwork into piles and moving them so they didn't get destroyed. He knew Chan was too out of it to notice Minho doing the exact thing he had told him off for.
"Trying not to ruin my things."
"Hmm?"
"Trying not to ruin my things, sir," Chan corrected.
"Better," Minho breathed. "Now, I'm gonna eat your ass while you hold on to your desk, okay?"
"Yes, sir," Chan sighed.
Minho could see his limbs loosen as he relaxed against the desk. So pliant and ready. There was nothing left for Minho to do other than stick to his word. So, he got on his knees and dragged down Chan's ruined underwear until his ass was bare for him. Minho started with just lightly running his fingers up and down his back, and kneading some of the flesh, watching him get impatient.
"Sir, please." This time, Minho didn't feel like making him wait. He adjusted his position, staring right into the dimples in his back as he pulled out the plug gently. Chan whimpered at the sensation. The plug was one Minho suggested, saying he thought Chan would like it. Glad to know his advice was being taken.
Slowly, he brought his tongue to lick at the tight rim of muscle. Chan moaned softly as Minho swirled his tongue gently. His hips started bucking into the desk, and Minho had to bring his hands up in an effort to stop him. It didn't.
"Stop bucking your hips, Channie," he warned. Immediately, Chan's hips stilled with some difficulty, and a lot of whimpering. "Good boy."
Even slower this time, Minho resumed his ministrations. He enjoyed eating people out; it was less intimate in his opinion than blowing them, because nobody was watching him. Like this, he could zone out and think about whatever he wanted. Like what he was going to have for dinner tomorrow — meal planning was such a pain. Wait, Hyunjin had offered to cook. Minho was usually the one who cooked, but it was nice not having to do it.
"Sir, faster, please…" Right. He needed to concentrate. Chan's next words died in his throat as Minho leaned back and spat. It didn't really lubricate well, but Chan liked it. Minho felt him force down his tremble as he fought to stay still as Minho dove back in with renewed vigour.
Minho continued to lap at his puckered hole as Chan moaned and mumbled incoherently in pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the desk. His business shirt rode up further and further as Minho's tongue caused him to shift against his desk. Minho would've told him to stop, but that would cause the pleasure to dissipate, and neither of them wanted that right now.
Instead, he just settled on light spanks — but to his dismay, it did nothing to stop Chan's desperation. It egged it on.
"I'm gonna c—" Chan moaned.
Minho pulled away. "Aww no… We can't have that now, can we?"
Minho pulling away gave Chan the green light to rut harder into his desk just for the smallest amount of friction. He could almost hear the tears of desperation as he begged.
"No… sir, please, I was so close…" Chan whined.
"You that needy that you were about to cum all over your desk untouched?" Minho asked. Chan only whimpered in response.
"Such a needy slut," Minho murmured, freeing himself from his pants again. He pulled the condom from his back pocket and slid it on.
After applying lube — he brought a small tube and kept it in his pocket — he slowly slid into Chan. A choked moan came out of his mouth as soon as Minho bottomed out.
"Thank you, sir," Chan moaned as he attempted to stabilise himself on the desk. His voice wobbled with each thrust as Minho held his hips down, encouraging the friction of Chan's cock on his desk.
Minho didn't bother with a response. He took one hand off Chan's hips momentarily to take his glasses off. At this rate, they were going to fly off his face. Chan continued to moan and whimper as Minho thrusted, him not really caring to keep a deliberate pace. Shivers were sent down Chan's spine either way.
"How does it feel to get fucked on your desk like this?" Minho asked.
"So good," Chan moaned immediately.
"That's it, just let it out, keep being a good whore for me," Minho encouraged, knowing that this was one of the times — if not the only time — Chan got to forget about all of his responsibilities and let off steam like this. If he didn't come out the other side relaxed, what was the point? Sure, he needed some encouragement every once in a while. A reminder that he could let it all go, letting Minho shoulder his worries and just take care of him.
"Sir—please, I'm so close, m-more," Chan reached behind him, trying to pull Minho closer as he thrust, but Minho just pinned his wrists against his back. A hold that Chan could break with ease, but Chan didn't want that — Minho could tell.
"Want me to fill you up?" They were both aware of the fact that Minho was wearing a condom, but that didn't stop Chan from moaning at the question.
"Fuck—yes please, sir." He strained against Minho's hold, except Minho was actually taking care to hold him down properly. The desk strained and wobbled with each hard thrust, and a few pens had clattered to the floor. Neither Chan nor Minho cared as they approached their release.
"How good does my piercing feel?" Minho asked, punctuating his sentence with one particularly hard thrust. He couldn't help but stroke his own ego every once in a while.
"S-so good, fuck—" All Chan could do was lie there and take it as Minho drilled into him.
"You can cum for me, Channie," Minho said, letting go of Chan's hands and running his up and down Chan's clothed back. "I got you."
"Oh god—" Chan gasped, pushing himself up before his body tensed up.
"Take it all," Minho groaned, tiptoeing on the edge of his own release. His cock dragged in and out of Chan deliciously, and he focused on hitting that one spot that made Chan—
"Ah! Sir—I'm gonna—" Chan moaned. Shocks of pleasure ran through his body as he came, painting his desk with cum as Minho chased his own release, overstimulating Chan. Minho wordlessly guided Chan to lie down on the desk, his body jerking with overstimulation.
A few moments later, with a groan, Minho filled the condom that acted as a barrier between him and Chan — a precaution he took with all of his clients. Then, he just gave them a few moments to breathe.
"You all better now?" Minho asked. His question was less of a question and more telling Chan he was ready to end the current roleplay dynamic they had created, and go back to normal. If Chan was ready, of course. He nodded slowly.
He gently pulled out of Chan and threw the condom in the nearest bin, not before doing his pants back up and straightening himself up. He grabbed his bag, which he'd thrown in the corner right after walking in, and grabbed everything he needed from it. Snacks, water and wet wipes.
When he turned around to face the desk again, Chan was still holding the edge of the desk, his knuckles no longer white with strain.
"Hey, come on, you should know you need to eat by now," Minho said softly, grabbing the desk chair again and rolling it right next to Chan, who was slowly drifting down from subspace. "I've got grapes and Pepero, though I'm not sure how cold the grapes are now considering how long they've been out of the fridge."
Chan accepted the food with open hands, nibbling on a stick of Pepero that Minho had pulled out for him already. He also accepted the bottle of water, downing half of it in one go. A laugh escaped his lips as Minho immediately swapped the now half-empty bottle for a pack of wipes for Chan to use to clean up his desk and stomach.
It took a few minutes — it always took a while — before Chan was back to normal again.
"How are you feeling now?" Minho asked as Chan got up, retrieving his discarded pants and underwear and putting them back on.
"Sleepy, but good," Chan yawned as he slid his glasses back on.
Minho brushed a hand through his hair as he rounded up all of his things. "You sure you're okay to drive yourself home after that? I'm happy to take you home."
"I'm sure," Chan said, a slight smile on his lips.
After he finished wiping his desk, he trotted to the other side and opened his top drawer, pulling out a thick envelope and handing it to Minho, who was popping a few grapes into his mouth.
"Ah, that always helps," Minho said, accepting the envelope of cash. He quickly counted the notes, not because he didn't believe that the right amount was in there, but people made mistakes. Chan didn't, not today at least. He stowed the envelope away, safe in his backpack.
Minho scanned Chan again. He always got embarrassed after a session, no matter what Minho said to him. After he had left subspace, which Minho helped him come down from gently without crashing — every time — he always got embarrassed. Minho reassuring him and telling him he did great did nothing to alleviate the shame Minho saw take over his features. Granted, there was less and less visible shame after each session, which was a good thing, Minho supposed. Maybe that's why Chan kept booking him. Because Minho gave him the freedom to express himself sexually without shame or being judged. That's why a lot of people booked him, actually.
"Was there anything you would change about what happened just now?" Minho asked, running through the usual post-session questions. How else would he know how to please Chan better next time if he didn't ask questions about how Chan felt?
Minho was glad to watch Chan shake his head before he bit into another Pepero stick.
"So I'm assuming you were never close to using your safeword?" Minho asked. The answer was probably, hopefully, no. He needed to check anyway.
"Not at all." Chan shook his head again. Minho figured that was the case. He never asked for anything extreme, just enough to forget his responsibilities for a while, and Minho only used words and actions to give that to him. One of his clients was similar, but there were a lot more collars and spanking involved — Chan wouldn't enjoy that for very long, if at all.
Minho smiled. “I’m glad.”
Chan's continued leg swinging as he sat on his desk was a good sign he was completely stabilised again. Minho also noticed his breathing had steadied also, which meant his heart was back to its baseline. Another good sign.
“Same time next week?” Minho asked. Usually, all of his clients preferred to stick to a regular schedule. They rarely missed a session. He had four regular clients, so he made a lot of money for someone who worked not even ten hours a week.
“Yeah, I was thinking we could do it at your place next,” Chan hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe we can do something in your study?”
A blush crept up the side of his neck, and Minho grinned.
“You wanna orally cockwarm me again?” Minho teased. He was partially joking, but given Chan immediately started choking on his Pepero — he knew he was right.
“Maybe,” Chan said coolly after his coughing subsided.
“Sounds like fun,” Minho said, popping one last grape into his mouth. “You want any more?”
Chan shook his head, giving Minho the all clear to pack up the grapes. He had already basically finished the Pepero.
“You sure you don’t want a drive home after that?” Minho asked again, noticing Chan looked fine, but no matter now observant he made himself to be — he still missed things.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Chan said, hopping down from the desk and putting his clothes back on, straightening himself up.
“Want me to walk you to the elevator?” Chan asked. “I’ve still gotta finish something really quick since I’m off tomorrow.”
“No, you finish that. I’ll see myself out,” Minho waved his hand dismissively, getting up from Chan’s desk chair and bringing it back around to the right side.
“I’ll see you next week.” Minho smiled.
“See you then,” Chan called as Minho walked towards the door. Walking the long tiled hallway was the last time he was going to feel like somebody important, before he got to the elevator.
The lower the elevator brought him, the more removed he became from the level of wealth he had just pretended to possess for the sake of roleplay. Spitting him out at the underground company garage, he returned to being just the guy that was being paid to have sex with these rich people. Merely a temporary fix of relaxation for him.
Minho was fine with that, of course. It was his job after all. And he was good at it.
☆
Hyunjin hated going to the supermarket. It was always either too hot or too cold. Whenever he went, it was like everyone in his neighbourhood needed to buy groceries too, and it always took way too long to find what he needed. The amount of fruits and vegetables available always overwhelmed Hyunjin too, no matter how far into adulthood he was.
Rows and rows of plants as far as the eye can see.
"How the fuck am I supposed to find what I need?" Hyunjin spoke into his phone.
"I don't know. Why are you asking me? We don't share local grocery stores." Felix said. Hyunjin squinted at all the labels. None of them were what he needed.
"This is why I don't cook," Hyunjin sighed.
"Yes, because your local store was designed in a way specifically meant to inconvenience you so you would never cook again," Felix said sarcastically. There it was, kale, that was one vegetable down. Hyunjin pretended to examine the different bunches and got one from near the back. His mum had said that all the fresher stuff was at the back, and he trusted her judgement. Years later, he didn't know if it was accurate or not, but there was no loss if she was wrong.
"Minho is such an amazing cook; I'm scared that he'll hate all of it," Hyunjin admitted, pulling out his shopping list again.
"Who?"
Hyunjin sighed. "You literally went to his Christmas party last year."
Felix almost burst Hyunjin's eardrum with how loud his exclamation of realisation was.
"Dick piercing, professional dom Minho?"
"What if you were on speakerphone?" Hyunjin hissed into his phone. The laughter that continued to stream from the speakers told him he had a few seconds to find the next thing he needed. Off to the deli section he went. "Besides, you're one of the few people besides his clients that knows what he is. I would prefer it if everyone here didn't know what my friend does for a living."
He focused on finding the type of meat he needed, and then it needed to be processed the right way, and not a ridiculous amount of meat either. Right now, all he could see were one-kilo-or-more packages.
"He's blonde now," Hyunjin offered once Felix's giggling subsided.
"Why?" Felix asked.
"What do you mean 'why'? Why are you blonde?" Hyunjin countered.
A beat of silence.
"Why not?"
"Exactly," Hyunjin said, finally finding a pack of two that wasn't twice the weight of what he needed. What else did he need?
"Do you think he's good at sex? I mean, if people pay him good money, then I would assume so, right?" Felix wondered out loud.
"We've never spoken about it in depth," Hyunjin admitted. Sure, they objectively talked about sex and discussed it, but rarely did Minho ever go into details of what he did with his clients behind closed doors. There were contracts involved saying Minho cannot talk about who exactly was paying him. Which would be fair.
"I'd bet that he's great at it," Felix sighed dreamily.
"Don't even think about it."
"That's it, I'm throwing myself at every blonde guy I see. One of them has got to be like Minho."
"Can I hang up yet?" Hyunjin finally reached the aisle with the sauces. There were so many sauces. He needed salad dressings, though.
"No, please don't," Felix giggled.
Felix continued to talk Hyunjin's ear off, and he tuned most of it out as he found the final few ingredients he needed. Which unfortunately included going back to the vegetable section to grab the last things Hyunjin needed for his food.
"Finally, I can get out of here," Hyunjin said as he threw a lemon into his basket.
"Congratulations," Felix sang, almost deafening Hyunjin once more. Finishing his shopping meant that all he had to do was go to Minho's house.
"I don't want to," Hyunjin groaned, procrastinating going to the checkout.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Felix asked.
"I come over. I cook. He hates the food and ends our friendship over it."
Silence.
"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" Felix asked.
More silence.
"Not at all."
Hyunjin weaved through the throng of people to get to the counter. He unloaded all of his things. The cashier stayed unimpressed, even after his rushed greeting, just chewing gum as she scanned his items. He eyed her gum-chewing suspiciously, but realised they probably both had other things to worry about, so he focused on his conversation with Felix once more.
"I'm experimenting with meat… and kale."
"Pause."
"I'm gonna fucking…" He sighed loudly. That got the cashier to actually look at him as she bagged his things.
"What?" Felix singsonged.
"I don't know," Hyunjin admitted, struggling to talk and pay at the same time. He was juggling way too much stuff, and he hadn't even picked up the freshly bagged things yet.
He bid a polite thanks to the cashier as a goodbye and raced out the door. The parking lot was half empty, so it was easy to spot Hyunjin's little black sedan. He started towards it, his single bag of groceries in his free hand.
"Finally, I'm out of there," Hyunjin sighed, finally able to put Felix on speakerphone, not having to hold him up against his ear. Still, the stuff that came out of his mouth sometimes made him hesitate, conscious of how far Felix's voice travelled when he decided to voice every sexual thought he had.
"Now go have fun at Minho's house. I'm gonna get on League," Felix decided. The low hum coming from his car speaker after he'd connected his Bluetooth told Hyunjin that Felix was already on League. Or at the very least on his computer.
"Guess I can't procrastinate any longer." He couldn't. He'd told Minho he'd pick up what he needed, then come over. It was late afternoon, and he had done the first half.
"I guess you can't," Felix agreed.
Hyunjin ran his hands over the steering wheel, unable to dry the sweat that was pooling in his palms. Why was he sweating?
With a little more debilitating, Hyunjin finally bid his farewell to Felix, and started his engine, slowly making his way to Minho's apartment.
Taking the same roads he had a million times before. He didn't need a GPS, and he hadn't for years. He and Minho had been friends for years. Something told Hyunjin it wasn't entirely the cooking he was nervous about, but he couldn't put his finger on what else it would be. So he instead ignored it, concentrating on the road instead of his heartbeat.
☆
Honestly, the cooking wasn't going as badly as Hyunjin thought it would. He knew Minho couldn't tell how unreasonably nervous he was. It was going fine anyway. His kale salad sat covered up in the corner of Minho's bench, put aside as he focused on cooking his lamb chops as he and Minho caught up.
He'd forgotten how calming the drive was to Minho's apartment, even though if anything he was driving closer to the city, which rarely sat right with him. But Minho's apartment, decked out in the furniture that Hyunjin had helped him pick out — given it was his job to design interiors for a living — had a warm feel to it. Over time, Minho had added his own knickknacks, and signs of life. Pictures he took on the walls, fresh flowers in the dining table's vase, and Scrabble letters on the fridge made it seem more homely than the place was years ago when Minho had moved into the apartment directly below the penthouse.
"Smells good," Hyunjin said as he turned the heat off, letting his lamb chops rest.
"Doesn't smell horrible," Minho agreed as he poured the two of them another glass of wine to have with their dinner.
"Thank you for that." Hyunjin rolled his eyes but couldn't help his smile as he got their plates out.
"You're welcome," Minho said cutely, getting out cutlery from his drawers. Handling the salad probably too delicately for what it was, Hyunjin plated some on both his and Minho's plates. "You know I can't say I've ever had kale salad and lamb."
"Me neither," Hyunjin shrugged before he started transferring the lamb over to their plates. Not a total disaster. They looked edible. That was a start. "Google said they go well together."
Minho hummed and took their drinks and cutlery over to his eight person dining table and set everything down as Hyunjin brought their plates over.
“I was so nervous on the way here… I don't know why," Hyunjin admitted as he sat down. "I felt like I was going to throw up.”
Minho sat down too. “Are you pregnant?”
“Can you shut up?” Hyunjin smiled before biting into his lamb chop.
Minho giggled, picking up his own lamb chop and biting into it without a second thought.
“If anyone’s gonna be pregnant out of the two of us, it’s you,” Hyunjin said after swallowing. It actually wasn't that bad. Their fingers were going to get dirty though, which was probably why Minho quickly got up to grab tissues for the two of them, talking as he dug through his walk-in pantry.
“Nope, I exclusively top my clients,” he said frankly, throwing the box on the table.
“Too much information,” Hyunjin said, taking a tissue. Now that he knew the lamb wasn't bad — in his opinion — Minho needed to tell him what he thought. Plus, there was still the salad to try.
“We’re beyond that,” Minho said. "This is really good, by the way. I don't know why you were scared."
Hyunjin had no choice but to trust him, given how quickly he was tearing the meat off the bone. It was actually surprising how little of the sauce was actually getting on his face.
"Thank you," Hyunjin said, eating his chop a lot slower. "Is there any reason you don't bottom? Are there any people who do what you do and only bottom?"
Minho took a second to finish chewing before he replied, "It allows me slightly more control. I mean, power bottoms exist and whatnot. I'm sure that's also why most of us advertise ourselves as tops, but there are some people who 'do what I do' and say they're versatile. It's not that I don't trust my clients, because a lot of them I've been seeing for more than a year now, but they all prefer bottoming and I prefer topping, so it works out. Plus, I feel like that would be really intimate if we drew up the contract and said I would always top. Then I just relax that boundary and bottom for them one day. Similar reason to why I don't kiss on the lips."
"Interesting," It was always interesting when Minho gave Hyunjin a brief insight into what he did for a living. Obviously, interior design differed completely from sex work. "The whole kissing thing is understandable."
Hyunjin didn't have to be a sex worker to know why Minho set that boundary. He got his fork and picked some of the salad. It didn't taste horrible either.
"Don't you miss having that intimacy with someone?" Hyunjin found himself asking. He knows he'd struggle if he weren't allowed to kiss the person he was sleeping with.
Minho twirled the last kale leaf on his plate around and around with his fork as he thought of his answer.
"Kind of. I don't know, because on one hand client work is so planned out, there's no room to worry. With an actual relationship, it's far less transactional, and there's a lot more room for mistakes — the trade off for the potential of actual intimacy. I don't miss the worry, that's for sure," he said, making Hyunjin chuckle at the end. "What happens between me and my clients is purely transactional, so at least on my end there are no feelings involved. Not saying any of them are harbouring feelings towards me, but nobody's ever tried to kiss me on the lips, so it's not an issue."
The two of them moved on to their next topics, shelving the sex work conversation for later. Now that they were both done with their dinner, Minho having put their plates in his sink saying he'll do them later, they moved themselves and their refilled wine glasses to the lounge to continue their talking.
"So what happened to Logan?" Minho asked as he threw his blue throw blanket over him and Hyunjin's legs. He settled in, his arm resting on the back of his couch as his other hand cradled his wine glass.
"You mean Liam?" Hyunjin asked.
"That's what I said." Minho waved his hand dismissively.
"No, that is not what you said, and we broke up months ago — remember? Last thing I heard, he moved back to LA to live with his best friend." Hyunjin drank most of his wine, fearing he would need it if they were going to talk about past relationships.
"…Yes," Minho said.
"Stop lying. You're lucky I have nothing to throw at you," Hyunjin huffed.
"Throw shit at him, not me," Minho said. "Plus, I'm remembering as we speak. I knew something was off with him."
"I would if he didn't live in the States now," Hyunjin assured him.
"No, you wouldn't."
"I wouldn't," Hyunjin quickly agreed, making Minho chuckle.
"Have you been looking since then?" Minho asked. Hyunjin just shook his head. Relationships were annoying. He didn't need one right now. Not when Seoul had proven to him time and time again that there was nobody out there that could give him what he needed.
"No, I'm happy being single right now," Hyunjin mused. Maybe sometime he'd start making the effort again, but that wasn't going to be anytime soon. "You?"
"No," Minho held himself back from laughing. "My job makes it hard. Nobody wants to date a guy who makes a living out of fucking other people that aren't his partners."
Hyunjin didn't hold his laughter back. "I guess that's right for a lot of people. At least you know it's good sex, otherwise people wouldn't be paying you for it."
"I guess you're right." Minho leaned back to put his now empty glass on the end table, and Hyunjin bit his lip. Thinking.
"You said it's more often than not about the power exchange?" Hyunjin asked, suddenly nervous. Minho just nodded. "Well… what's it like? 'Cause I remember you mentioned something about it being freeing for them, and I've never felt like that."
Suddenly, Hyunjin felt like crawling into a hole and dying as Minho failed to hide the surprise on his face. It was probably the wine. Luckily, he didn't comment on it, taking a few seconds before he decided on a response.
"Is that you saying you've never subbed and felt free?" Minho countered, his blunt wording making Hyunjin cringe. He kept his eyes fixed on the small amount of wine left at the bottom of his glass.
"I guess so…" he started. "With Liam, it was never a big thing, which I know it doesn't have to be all the time. Ten minutes, he would come, and it was over. With everyone before him, it was just variants of that."
"And you never thought to bring it up that you've been having terrible sex since you started dating? Because that's not what it was supposed to be like for you, at all," Minho said.
"Well, I didn't have a comparison point! I just assumed that since people were paying you, that shit only happened because people were paying you. Either that or good sex only happens in movies," Hyunjin mumbled. Every time before this, it had mostly been Minho talking about his recent session with a client and Hyunjin listening — since he rarely had anything to add. Well, Minho pried, but Hyunjin usually dismissed him in favour of listening to the stories about how Minho had treated his clients so well, not the mediocre sex Hyunjin was having — if it could even be called sex.
"Look, Hyunjin, to answer your question directly, subspace kind of feels like floating on a cloud, that you go into this headspace and you just trust your dom to take care of you. It's this rush of endorphins and such in the brain. That's why people say it's freeing. To allow yourself to fall into that headspace, you need to trust your dominant. It sounds like to me that you didn't trust your partners to take care of you, so you didn't trust yourself to slip into subspace," Minho said, and it explained a lot. Hyunjin definitely didn't trust any of his last partners enough to be truly intimate with them. He'd just accepted it and forced himself to devalue the sexual part of a relationship.
"It was over too quickly for me to do anything anyway." Hyunjin downed the last bit of wine that sat at the bottom of his glass.
"I'm serious, and by the way, good sex doesn't only happen in movies. You just need to find the right partner. Someone you trust. Vanilla sex is great. You don't always need to do kinky stuff with your partner, like dom sub roleplay."
"Well, again, my experience with kink is slim to none, as is my general experience with good sex, so I wouldn't know." Hyunjin busied himself with putting the glass behind him on another end table.
"Is that something you want? To explore different kinks freely with someone you trust, I mean," Minho asked.
"Maybe one day. There's a bunch of stuff I hear about — whether it's online or from you or whatever — that makes me think 'oh, I wanna try that', but I've never gotten the chance, you know?" Hyunjin admitted honestly, still not making eye contact with Minho as he fiddled with the hem of the throw blanket that covered the two of them. Minho hummed in thought before he took a deep breath.
"I could show you, if that's what you wanted…" Minho said.
"What?" There's no way Hyunjin heard that correctly. He looked up at Minho for the first time in a while.
"I could help you explore all the kinks you've been meaning to try. Obviously, we'd have to talk about this a lot more before we started. Lay out boundaries and whatnot, but if you seriously wanted this, I'm happy to help you," Minho said.
"Oh, I—" Hyunjin started, but Minho cut him off as his rambling continued.
"If you don't want this just ignore everything I just said, and we can move onto our next conversation topic—"
"No. I want to," Hyunjin said, making Minho stop his rambling.
"Okay," Minho paused, pursing his lips in thought. Perhaps this conversation would've gone way differently had the two of them been sober, instead of three glasses of wine deep in drunkenness. "This is going to be exactly like if you were hiring me for this, and then after you can decide if this is something you want to continue, free of charge."
"Like right now?" He didn't mean right now, did he?
"No," Minho laughed. "You need time to prepare — I'm assuming you're a bottom from the handful of stories you've told me."
"I've never topped, so I don't know."
"Well, assuming this is something you want to continue, maybe I'll let you top me one day, to see if you like it. We can plan our first session once you've given it more thought. Before we get into any of that, I need to make sure you know you can back out at any time—"
"I want this, Minho," Hyunjin insisted, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Minho. He was back to wearing his glasses regularly. Hyunjin hadn't noticed. He often switched between using his contacts and glasses. He'd mentioned one of his clients loved when Minho wore glasses, so they must've had a session really recently.
Minho just stared at him, his gaze different from the past few minutes. "Are you really that horny that you want me to dom you right now?"
His tone was teasing, and Hyunjin knew he wouldn't do that already when he'd placed such a strong emphasis on establishing boundaries, but Hyunjin still blushed crimson.
"No!"
Minho laughed, hard. "I'm kidding, Jinnie."
The teasing was almost enough to make Hyunjin call the whole thing off. Almost. If Hyunjin had any sense, he wouldn't have agreed to Minho's suggestion to do this for him — or technically, to him. But he had rarely been rational when there was something his heart needed.
"You better be," Hyunjin grumbled, holding back his laughter as best he could. Minho insisted he was and kept giggling to himself as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Soft piano music could be heard coming from it soon after. It sounded faintly familiar to Hyunjin, now that he thought about it.
"Do you still have Genshin?" Minho asked, answering Hyunjin's question before he even asked it.
"I think so," Hyunjin said, squirming in his seat so he could take out his phone. He still had it installed. Honestly, it was surprising he still had it. He didn't even know when he last opened it, adding to the fact that it took up so much of his storage. "I'm surprised you still have it."
"I'm surprised I still have it," he replied. "My client got me addicted, what can I say?"
Minho's surprise made sense. He was never one for video games.
"It's helpful to have him as a friend. He gets every single character constellation six and in some of the game modes I can borrow them."
"Can I get this guy's… what's it called? UID?" Hyunjin barely remembered anything Minho was talking about, let alone the language of the game. Apparently he remembered it well enough that he made Minho laugh.
"I'll ask him next Thursday when I see him," Minho said, and Hyunjin didn't expect him to be serious about it, but that's what it seemed like. So he just left it.
Then they played until Hyunjin's eyelids couldn't hold themselves up anymore.
It was like he was a kid again if he ignored the fact that he woke up in Minho's guest room instead of his own bedroom. Still, he fell asleep on the couch and woke up in a bed, so as far as he knew, Minho had carried him.
Oh god, Minho. Their deal.
With bleary eyes and a mind that raced, ignoring his minor hangover, Hyunjin tried to recall exactly what he got himself into.