The bedding feels different beneath Jimin's body. His eyes haven't opened just yet but his palms flatten over the blanket sprawled over his limbs. With such a distinct yet minor detail, he can tell that he isn't in his house. And rather, he's fallen asleep in Jeongguk's bed. His lids lift and he blinks while slowly propping himself up against the headrest. With balled fists, he rubs the fatigue away.
"You're awake." Jeongguk is looming over his dresser, looking through drawers while pulling out articles of clothing. He's without a shirt - the plane of his golden, bare back on display. His muscles tense with each faint jostle, beginning just above his waist, prolonging all the way up to his broad shoulders. Jimin swallows.
"I didn't mean to fall asleep here-"
"Don't fret, Darling. It was my intention that you stay the night. I fed you, no? And not just with food." He's twisting where he stands, swiping his bandaged thumb over his soft, quirked lips.
Jimin looks away quickly, staring at the blanket covering his thighs. He's blushing, reminiscing of how good Jeongguk's blood tasted, filming the inside of his mouth. The sonorous praise still lingers in the forefront of his mind, serving as a striking memory to remain implemented deeply. It's hinged strongly in his brain, quite stubborn as he tries to subside it, only to fail miserably. It doesn't help that Jeongguk is now towering over the bed, gripping his chin to align their faces; perfectly depicting the nature of their relationship with such a simplistic yet dominant gesture.
He's so close to him that Jeongguk's breath fans his mouth. Jimin can't help his eyes as they flit from the man's dark gaze to the shape of his pink lips. They part and twitch in but a whisper. It feels as though an invitation, beckoning him over with small puffs of hot air. Luring in to claim what hangs so close by his fingertips. And yet he has this near and constant inkling that he's unsuited to instigate anything. He takes what he's given and if nothing less, the thrill of punishment is apparent. Calling out to him like a Siren, a dangerous desire murmuring against his ear. He starts to lean in but Jeongguk pulls back, dropping his chin.
"What did I say about being patient?" Jeongguk tuts, raising a brow.
Jimin's full lips part slightly as an involuntary whine slots between his white teeth to meet the air. He isn't exactly too sure what game Jeongguk is playing, but he wants in on every part of it. The intrigue, the denial, the teasing. It's frustrating but it keeps him pining.
"I have some place I need to be, and so I'm taking a shower. I'll prepare breakfast once I'm finished. I expect you stay in the bedroom in the meantime. Do I make myself clear?" Jeongguk has a towel thrown over his shoulder.
Jimin decides to keep his questions to himself. He nods his head. "Yes, Master," he projects quietly yet audibly. With a little bit of convincing, he's able to brush his teeth before the rest of the morning ensues. As soon as he's finished in the bathroom, he's sitting immobile on the bed while the water starts to run.
He's curled up in a small ball with the blanket wrapped around him as he scans the bedroom, finally taking in his surroundings without the distracting sight of a shirtless Jeongguk. He pulls on his bottom lip, taking note that even outside of his appearance, he's a very clean cut man. The furniture is simple and yet it has this sensual undertone, underlined by the shade of black and wine red. Now that he thinks about it, the livingroom and kitchen are basically the same, colour wise. Every aspect of his life seems to follow a pattern. He's clearly organized and with care.
Jimin unfurls the blanket from around his body, fingers moving faintly over his head as the throb subdues. He throws his legs over the side of the bed and his toes sprawl over a soft carpet placed below the bed. He's given the chance to inspect his entirety, noticing that he's been changed into a seperate pair of clothes. This means that Jeongguk has seen him naked already. The fact that his immodesty has been divulged makes his stomach twist in a way he's unacquainted with. Because he isn't exactly pleased with the idea, nor is he against it. It brings him thrill but it also unnerves him.
There's a large, black, button up dress shirt hanging loosely over his shoulders, showcasing his unmared clavicles as well as his snow white skin. The top reaches mid thigh, hiding his pair of boxers which surprisingly enough fit decently well. He's never felt this type of way, wearing any of Daeshim's clothes. There's something so inexplicably calming about Jeongguk's aroma; perhaps it's his cologne and natural scent joining cohesively to concoct some kind of relaxant. In any case, his heart beats steadily in his chest, far from concerned about the fact that Daeshim could be searching for him. Although there's so much mystery looming in the air, it's leveled with just the same amount of security.
Suddenly his stomach growls. Although nobody is in the room to hear it, Jimin blushes while awash in embarrassment. He moves his hand up to brush over his tummy, tugging on his bottom lip while in heavy contemplation. Jeongguk told him to stay put, but he hasn't been eating much and the repercussions are starting to catch up with him. His energy dwindles each passing day to the point he can feel himself withering away slowly. He doesn't necessarily like eating because of the things Daeshim has called him or told him, but the idea of Jeongguk wanting to make sure that he's well fed surfaces in his mind, dislodging those negative thoughts that have festered like weeds, coiling around his brain.
Jimin exhales very deeply, curling his lips in. The water is still running which is a good sign. He just needs to grab a small snack and return to the bedroom. He walks toward the door and as quietly as he can, twists the knob to pull it open. He peers over his shoulder and leaves the confines of Jeongguk's room, leaving the door cracked open.
His bare feet pad along the chilly hardwood floor as he makes his way toward the kitchen. Jimin can recall which cupboard the cereal is in after watching Jeongguk's cooking the day prior. He dawdles by the small island located in the center, reaching up to grab one of the boxes of cereal. He's successful and places it on the kitchen counter. Jimin grabs a bowl and finally he reaches into the fridge for the carton of milk. The water is still running.
Jimin runs his tongue over his lips, pouring Captain Crunch into a small, porcelain bowl. He smiles because his boyfriend never allowed fun breakfast cereals like this. He then ladens the bowl with some milk, quickly placing the carton back in it's rightful spot in the fridge. He grabs a utensil and takes a seat at the island, stuffing a spoonful into his mouth. He moans quietly at the taste, sighing contentedly after he swallows his first bite. Bliss. Something so simple and yet he doesn't think he'll be able to get used to it.
He finishes his cereal but he doesn't realize that the water has stopped running. Jimin places his dirty dishes in the dishwasher and as he pivots on his heel, he releases a quiet yelp as Jeongguk is standing a foot away from him. The man's arms are folded over his chest. His facial expression is haunting - eyes lidded and dark. Jimin's lower back is pressed into the counter as he peers down at the floor like some wounded puppy, awaiting punishment.
"I thought we were in agreement you'd stay in the bedroom?" Jeongguk's brow quirks. His tongue runs against the inner side of his bottom lip.
Jimin finally peers up, blinking through the guilt and fret filming his eyes. "I'm s-sorry... I was hungry," he replies quietly.
Jeongguk exhales. "Did you stop anywhere else or just the kitchen?" he asks.
Jimin doesn't know why it's such a big deal. But he supposes it's common courtesy to not snoop around other people's houses. "J-just the kitchen.
The man hums and silence ensues. Jimin stands idly against the counter, gaze flitting from the man's eyes to the floor. He can see that he's being sized up, however he's unsure of what follows. There's always some kind of uncertainty floating in the air.
"I need you to follow me to my study. Can you handle that?" Jeongguk quips over his shoulder.
"Yes." Jimin swallows thickly. He doesn't question whether or not he really has some place to be, because as far as he can tell, he's already in for some kind of treat. He'd rather not add fuel to the fire by asking questions.
And so he follows after the man, venturing through areas of the house that he hasn't been to before. Jimin is essentially glued to the man's heels as they walk down a corridor, stopping in front of a room. Jeongguk pulls the door open for him and he walks through cautiously, hardly entering fully before the door is closed behind him. Jeongguk is walking by, immediately crossing his arms while leaning his backside against his desk. It's the typical display of arrogance and cockiness and yet Jimin obeys immediately as he's beckoned to take a seat on the couch. He's looking up at the man through his black lashes, waiting for him to speak. He feels like he's being undressed from head to toe, impossibly slow, just like Jeongguk hinted at over the phone. It drives him crazy and he shifts along the sofa.
"I think it's about time we go over some of the rules, wouldn't you say so, Darling?" Jeongguk speaks up. His expression is barren and yet the tone of his voice is wrapped up in some string of dominance.
Jimin swallows. What kind of rules could this man possibly be talking about? Perhaps this is why he's been so evasive and stingy when it comes to particular things, such as his home, or his whereabouts. Of course this is merely an inference but even if just for a split second, it offers him some fragment of peace. And so he nods his head lightly.
Jeongguk raises a brow. He seems to have already made a mistake. "This is your first problem. Whenever I ask you a question, I expect an answer. But I also expect it to be verbal. If I'm touching you and you don't like it, you can't simply shake your head. That can look like anything to me while I'm pleasuring you. Do you understand?"
Jimin blinks, slightly taken aback. "Y-yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Master."
Jeongguk smirks at this. "Good." The man starts to tap his finger against his thigh and inevitably, that's where Jimin's gaze lingers to. Suddenly Jeongguk is moving from his position, retreating to the other side of his desk. There's a piece of paper between his fingers as soon as he's done rummaging through a drawer. He's wandering over to the ravenette sitting on the couch, looming over him while holding the loose leaf before his nose.
"What's this?" Jimin mutters while taking the paper into his own hands, eyes still hooked on the stunning blond's.
"I realize that my pretty little thing has been getting impatient, and we can't have that, can we? We'll need to go over what's written on the paper in detail before you give yourself to me fully. You understand, don't you?" Jeongguk pivots on his heel, pressing his backside against his desk once more. He reaches into his suit jacket, reaching for a package of cigarettes. He pulls one out of it's box and ignites it aflame with his lighter, leaning against his arms. The smoke spirals into the air, mesmerizing.
And Jimin wants to say that he understands, but there's something about Jeongguk's statement that throws him off. Before you give yourself to me fully. There's this sense of fear blossoming in his core, but along with it, thrives this undying passion for rush. He's pulling on his bottom lip, still yet to look at any of the words embedding the loose leaf. The temptation, the fear, the desire. Every emotion Jimin plunges deep inside of him while around Daeshim is positively apparent while in the presence of Jeongguk. And the latter marvels silently at the stimulation, preening with upturned lips.
"Firstly, we're going to address the basics. Read number five out loud, Darling," Jeongguk intones before taking a drag from his cigarette, flicking some of the ash into a tray.
And finally, Jimin's attention falls to the intimidating paper. He scans through the numbers until he reaches five, knee bouncing frantically while the action requires such little complication. "Whenever the dominant and the submissive are in the p-play room, a safe word is required, otherwise sexual acts will not take place," Jimin reads aloud, dragging his finger under the sentence.
Jimin is well aware what a play room is. This is where he's going to be tarnished, but in the most coveted way possible. He recalls their conversation over the phone once again. He pictures a whip moving down his bare, fluctuating stomach. The way it snaps over his skin. He can hear it. It sounds like the prettiest melody.
"Exactly." Jeongguk takes one last drag from his cigarette, crushing it completely. "Choose any word you'd like. You'll use this when it becomes overbearing, am I understood?"
"Yes, Master." Jimin stares at the clock on the wall while trying to figure out a safe word. It doesn't seem to be such an arduous task and yet the situation has sprung up on him, making it difficult. He doesn't work well, being put on the spot like this. However he can see wisps of white as they helix into thin air from the man's ashtray. Suddenly he has his answer. "Smoke."
"Smoke," Jeongguk reiterates with intrigue.
Jimin nods. "Yes. Your cigarettes," he mumbles.
Jeongguk hums. "Very well." He's musing Jimin's state with this constant presentation of merriment in his eyes. "Start at number one and make your way up."
Jimin blinks abashedly, peering back down into his lap where the paper lay. "The submissive is restricted from pleasuring himself without consent from the dominant. If self-stimulation is underway, only will it be in the presence of the dominant. Otherwise the submissive will be punished." He gulps softly at the mention of punishment. He wants to be so good for the man standing before him. But he also wants to know what his punishments entail.
"I absolutely hate it when my submissives touch themselves. I am here for a reason, am I not?" Suddenly Jeongguk is lifting his weight off of his desk, approaching the ravenette. Jimin's heart picks up as a finger runs down his jaw. "If I find you pleasuring yourself without my consent, you will be punished."
"Y-yes, Master." Jimin's reply falls stiffly off of his tongue. He's so pitifully entranced by the finger smoothing over his jaw, resting below his chin to tilt his head up. Warm puffs of air fan his ample lips. He wants to lean in so badly but before he knows it, Jeongguk is pulling away.
For the next fifteen minutes, Jimin shifts against the sofa while reading off each of the rules. He can't get over the way Jeongguk is looking at him, nevermind the occasional touch against his skin. It's driving him crazy and by this point, he's half hard. His lips are swollen, impossibly red as he's been stifling needy sounds. It's embarrassing because he knows that Jeongguk has caught on.
Every point made on the loose leaf has Jimin bordering apprehension as well as impatience. His forefinger moves over the paper while he peers into Jeongguk's eyes. "W-where's the pen?" he asks.
"There is no pen, Darling. This isn't a contract. A piece of paper with a scribble isn't going to cut it. It's simply a fair warning of what's to come, whether or not you choose to stay. But I'm just going to warn you. This isn't going to be easy. You may bend and break, you may bleed and you'll have tears in your eyes." Jeongguk is now standing in front of Jimin. The latter peers up at the blond and his breath hitches in his throat as the sole of the man's foot presses against his cock.
"This isn't some simple BDSM relationship, Darling. I am going to test your limits. I am going to test your body. Now are you afraid?" His projection is thrumming with darkness, eyes dim as he presses his foot down harder.
Jimin moans softly, collapsing into the couch. His teeth are crushing down on his bottom lip. This proposal makes him sound like some kind of science experiment. "W-what do I need to do? What'll make you want me?" he whimpers quietly.
Jeongguk sniffs. "I don't touch those who I intend to let fall from my fingertips, or those who don't seem capable. And in fact you have managed to exceed my expectations already, Darling. You're something special. I can picture you bending at my every will, being such a good boy. Are you willing to do that for me, Darling?"
Jimin moans once more as Jeongguk's foot grinds deeper against his cock, moving in a circular motion. His head tilts back and his eyelids grow heavy. The thought of being put through some kind of trial excites him. He's puddy in Jeongguk's hands already, compliant with each and every demand. It's intoxicating. This man is intoxicating. Addiction.
"Y-yes, Master. I want you to break me."