HOME - Taejoon

20. 'Serving'

"Sure, but I'd never met anyone of it." He cleared his throat, Taehyung played with the laces of his sweatshirt.

"So...you...don't think I'm a freak."

Namjoon scoffed.

"Short and clingy perhaps, but never a freak." That comment earned him a blow, which calmed the air again. They both took another drink. "And uhm... since when do you have this idea?"

"I've been a fetishist for years, but...only in theory. You would be the first, I mean, if you accept, to do something like that with me."

Namjoon looked at him as he spoke, trying to understand the matter. For him, this was something new, something he had never considered doing, at least not with those nicknames.

"So, you want me to tie you up and beat you and stuff like that?"

"It's not just that, Mr. Gray." Taehyung scoffed at him, he was starting to rethink the whole think, mentally hitting himself from speaking that soon. He felt like a rookie sub, and it was embarrassing to him to try to sit now and explain everything to a very confused person. "It's like...a lifestyle? I don't know how to explain it, but if you don't want to, it's fine, I just..." Namjoon interrupted him, noticing the sweat across his face, and, by taking him by the hand, he managed to make him stare at him, shutting up his thoughts.

"Is it very important to you?" The question took him by surprise, but Taehyung still nodded. "Then it's done."

"W-Would you?"

"I mean, I don't know much about it, but if you teach me, I could be good, right?" Namjoon did his best not to stumble over his words; Out of nowhere he had the need to look confident, tall, strong, and protective in front of his boyfriend. The confidence that he had placed in him to say something as intimate as that gave him a lot of strength, too much perhaps. Taehyung, on his side, couldn't help but wrap him in a tight hug.

"Thank you." The smile would be worth everything.

"It's no big deal." Namjoon let him be, then pulled him away from him. "Now, where do we start then?"

Taehyung smiled. Little did Namjoon knew that this question would lead him to open room twelve on the third floor of a hotel in the middle of the unconscious part of the city, finding, to his usual surprise and coincidence, that the old wooden door was an expert at hiding the interior: that dungeon was elegant, with very attractive reddish walls, straps in one of the corners and a cage. The floor was clean, wooden. In the middle of it all was a special chair that glistened with disinfectant.

Taehyung was the first to enter, with too much need. He had been waiting for that night all the three months it took him to return. The first thing he did was go to the bathroom, where he didn't have to say, he was going to take off his clothes and change with the backpack he carried on his shoulder.

Namjoon, on the other hand, headed straight to check all the safes, the security lights, the closed curtains, and the stability of the restraint chair. When he had finished, his boyfriend was still getting ready, so he opted to sit on the only couch present. He may have turned on the television, but he knew that all the channels would have exactly the same thing. Distraught, he took out his phone and wrote to a number with a profile picture of a guitar.

Inside the bathroom, Taehyung finished straightening his new indigo blue lingerie: a soft tulle covering, a small supply thong, and a garter on his left leg. He had gotten it a month in advance, as always. He liked to show off new things in their play sessions, and let his boyfriend fantasize about the image every time they had normal sex in the apartment. Smiling to himself at the chance to get back to normal with his boyfriend, he pulled out some makeup; he didn't want to do anything crazy, just some lip gloss and cream. When he was ready, he counted to three, breathing with his hand on the door handle.