"You're going to be fine," Chanhee insists, sticking the adhesive ends together on Juyeon’s orange paper wristband.  "You can watch the whole night for all anyone cares, you know?"

"I know."  The foyer is open and well-lit, and Juyeon can catch a glimpse of the party in progress in the living room.  Whoever lives here must be filthy rich to be able to host an event this big.

"I'll have my phone on me, but if I'm busy you can just —"

"Find someone with a blue wristband, or go home."  Juyeon shoots a small, shaky smile in an attempt to placate Chanhee's impatient frown.  It's moments like these that Chanhee doesn't feel at all like the younger of the two of them.

"I just want your first time to be fun, Juyeonie," Chanhee says, patting Juyeon’s bare upper arm.  The words spark something fluttery in Juyeon's stomach, nerves and excitement mixing together into a butterfly soup.

Juyeon knows he projects an air of effortless sexuality, and he has had sex before — some flings, a couple of longer-term partners — but none of them had been interested in this, or at least not the way he'd wanted.

So here he is, at some rich person's private play party, invited by Chanhee to get a sense for the scene.  Chanhee's been in the scene as long as Juyeon’s known him, unabashed and outspoken and more than willing to let Juyeon tag along when he’d stuttered out his interest.  He's grateful to have a friend here even if he does end up hanging back and watching the whole night.

They enter the main room together, the lights much dimmer than the foyer but not so dim that Juyeon can't take in the colorful mishmash of people present.

Chanhee immediately spots someone he knows, leaning up on his tiptoes and waving over the growing crowd with wide eyes and a beaming smile.

"Okay, so," he says, leaning into Juyeon, a little breathless, "I'm so sorry to do this so early, but Younghoonie is only in town twice a year and he is precious, Juyeonie, you don't understand —"

"It's fine," Juyeon laughs even as his nervousness grows.  "Go have fun, I'll be okay."

Chanhee plants a kiss on his cheek.  "Water's over there, private shows are upstairs, text me if you need me."

And then he's off in a flurry of clicking heels and shiny fabric towards a wide-eyed young man who would look completely lost if Juyeon didn't know that every invite to this party was exclusive.

Sighing and in need of something to occupy his hands, Juyeon gets a cup of water and finds an empty armchair to perch on, surveying the crowd.

His eyes catch on a number of people, some of whom have orange wristbands like him and some of whom have purple around their wrists — his eyes linger on them in particular, imagining any one of them playing out the fantasies he's fixated on for years but has never managed to make reality.

For a little while, he watches a demonstration from afar.  In the corner, there’s a slim person on their knees and their dom, heavier-set with a harness across their torso, wrapping rope around and around their delicate frame.  It’s beautiful, the red of the rope standing out against pale skin.  The dom is explaining something to the small crowd gathered, but the sub’s eyes are closed, mouth slightly open — blissful, Juyeon thinks.

When the dom begins to untie the intricate knots, Juyeon’s eyes wander again between small pods of people chatting and laughing and flirting.  He thinks, for a moment, about getting up and approaching someone, anyone, putting himself out there and hoping for something —

Then, near the center of the room and relatively close by, Juyeon’s eyes land on a man.

The first thing Juyeon notices about this guy is his arms.  He’s got this sleeveless shirt on, frayed and torn around the shoulders, and the way his biceps stand out in the dim light of the room makes Juyeon’s mouth go dry.  He’s got a neon green wristband on, which Juyeon is eighty-percent sure Chanhee told him meant he’s some kind of professional, but also might not.

The second thing he notices is that this guy smiles a lot, laughing at whatever the person he’s talking to is saying, eyes crinkling into barely-there half-moons.  Even then, he keeps his combat-booted feet planted and still, weight evenly distributed, grounded and at ease in his body in a way that projects a simple, quiet confidence.  As a dancer, Juyeon's always noticing how people hold themselves, and this guy stands like he’s exactly where he means to be.

Juyeon's a performer by trade and sex is an image he sells.  If he's being honest, he sells it well — he knows how to use his long legs and broad shoulders, to turn on bedroom eyes and let his lips hang open slightly in the mockery of a kiss.

This man sells sex just by standing there and leaning in slightly towards whoever's speaking, drawing the people around him with sheer natural magnetism that a performer can only hope to replicate in the mirror.

Juyeon wants him.  Badly.

But, of course, without any liquid courage in the house and with Chanhee having abandoned him for that pretty boy, Juyeon doesn’t quite have the nerve to just walk up to him. He stays where he is, watching, hoping, trying to look as small and pretty as possible.

He’s just about to give up and walk away when the guy turns slightly and catches Juyeon looking.  The smile that spreads across his face is somehow both inviting and predatory, pinning Juyeon in place.  Juyeon can only wait and watch as he gets closer, cutting effortlessly across the crowded living room.

“Hi,” the guy says, voice low and warm.  He holds out a hand.  “I’m Sangyeon.”

It takes a second for Juyeon’s brain to catch up — he’s somehow even hotter up close.

“Juyeon,” he manages.  Sangyeon’s hand is warm and dry, feeling solid in his grasp despite being far smaller than Juyeon’s own.

“First time?” Sangyeon asks, stepping in closer to fill the space when Juyeon draws his arm back.  The breath catches in his chest.

“How’d you know?”

“I have a pretty good sense for it by now.”  Sangyeon’s gaze is like slow honey on his skin.  “Are you looking for anything tonight, or just here to watch?”

“Oh my god,” Juyeon mumbles, hand clenching on his plastic cup of water.  “I’m, uh, open.  To things.”

Sangyeon laughs gently, brings his hand up to rest on the side of Juyeon’s neck — slow enough that Juyeon could pull away if he wanted, but Juyeon absolutely does want.  It already feels different than the other encounters he’s had at bars, or dancefloor flirtations turned hookups.  Here, he feels out of his depth and out of control in the best way, helpless to do anything but follow Sangyeon’s lead and listen to his voice.

“That’s good.”  Sangyeon’s thumb traces distracting little circles under the corner of Juyeon’s jaw before he drops it and turns slightly to survey the crowd, lingering on the ongoing scene in the corner.  “See anything tonight that appeals?”

Across the room, the sub he’d been watching nuzzles up against their dom’s leg, smiling hazily and shifting on their knees.  If they were closer, Juyeon imagines he might hear praise falling from the dom’s lips based on the soft look they give and the hand carding through their sub’s hair, tugging lightly.

“Some stuff, yeah,” Juyeon replies, mouth suddenly dry.  “I haven’t been upstairs.”

“We can go up,” Sangyeon offers.  “I have a couple friends doing demonstrations tonight if you want to explore a bit more.”

The thought of a smaller room, of Sangyeon watching him watch someone else play out a fantasy that he’s kept so intimately close to his chest for years — it’s far too overwhelming.  He shakes his head, ears burning as he takes a sip of water.  Sangyeon’s expression remains perfectly mild — though still with that edge of interest — as he studies Juyeon’s face.

“That’s fine, Juyeon-ah.”

His breath rushes out as Sangyeon steps a little closer, firmly crossing the line into his personal space — close enough to exchange body heat and for Juyeon’s knees to brush the outside of Sangyeon’s thighs.

“You can tell me to back off anytime,” Sangyeon says, low and kind, smiling like he’s soothing a spooked animal, “but if you’d like, we don’t have to stay here.  You can come home with me and I can show you whatever you want without so many people around.”

“Oh my god,” Juyeon repeats.  Sangyeon laughs quietly.

“Is that a yes?”

“Please.”  It comes out a little breathy, a little desperate, much to Juyeon’s embarrassment.  Sangyeon looks charmed, at least.  He offers Juyeon a hand, guiding him through the living room and out of the party.

It turns out Sangyeon lives close by, just ten minutes driving.  Juyeon texts Chanhee that he’s leaving — not that Chanhee will see it for hours, at least — and slides into the passenger seat of Sangyeon’s car.

“So,” Sangyeon starts, shooting a sideways glance at Juyeon, bare arms illuminated by the passing streetlights.  “I know you’re new to the party scene, but are you new to kink in general?”

Juyeon bites his lip, debating for a moment whether to lie and save face or be honest about his own inexperience.  He has a feeling, though, that Sangyeon will be able to tell immediately if he tries to cover up the truth.

“In general,” he admits, toying with the window latch to quell the itch in his fingertips.  “I mean, I’ve read a lot and done research but I haven’t been with anyone who wanted to… yeah.”

“That’s fine, Juyeon-ah.  Nothing to be ashamed of.”  Sangyeon’s not looking at him, eyes fixed on the road, but the corner of his lips quirk up.  “To be honest with you, I have a bit of a thing for inexperience.”

Juyeon feels heat prick his cheeks, suddenly imagining Sangyeon’s honey-low voice guiding him, treating him like a child in need of direction — in need of discipline, even.  Fuck.

"Do you, uh, do this often?  Pick up new subs?" he asks, trying for as much false bravado as he can muster.  Sangyeon laughs.

"Sometimes.  Usually it's part of my job, but it's good to do something nice for yourself every once in a while, don't you think?"  

The sidelong look he shoots Juyeon is hot enough to melt ice.  Juyeon makes some kind of sound in agreement.

"In any case, we should talk about what you want from tonight, Juyeon-ah."  Sangyeon’s gaze fixes back on the road, to Juyeon's relief.  "Is there anything you know you like?"

Juyeon worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, the air in the car suddenly too-warm.  Every illicit thought he's ever had suddenly comes rushing back in a disjointed mess.

"I'm… not sure.  I mean, I want so many things, I don't know…"

"Let's start a different way, then," Sangyeon says.  "I'm going to tell you three things I'd like to do to you, and you're going to tell me yes or no to each of them.  And then you'll do the same for me.  Sound okay?"

Juyeon swallows hard.  "Okay."

"One, I'd like to tie your hands behind your back and edge you with a vibrator on your dick.  Yes or no?"

The words hit Juyeon like Sangyeon’s punched him in the stomach.  It's absolutely unfair that he looks completely unaffected, eyes steady on the road ahead.

"Yes," he chokes out.  Sangyeon smiles slightly.

"Good.  Two, I'd like to eat you out until you cry.  Yes or no?"

Fuck. "Yes."

"Three."  They pull up to a red light, the shadows sending the angles of Sangyeon’s arms into sharp relief.  "I'd like to tell you what a pretty slut you are.  Yes or —"

"Yes."  He answers too quickly but Juyeon’s past the point of caring, half-hard in his too-tight jeans.

"Good boy.  Thank you for being honest."  The car starts up again — Juyeon thinks they must be close.  "Your turn, please."

Juyeon’s mind still spins, but now, at least, the possibilities are clearer, his desires laid bare by Sangyeon’s own words.  He clears his throat.

"Can you… can you call me a good girl?"  Heat rushes to his face — this is the first time he's ever managed to say it out loud.

"Yes, of course."

"And, um, two.  I'd like to be hit.  Please."

"Where?  Ass, thighs, across your face?"  Juyeon notices that Sangyeon’s fingers have gone tight on the steering wheel.

"All of those, I think."  He considers.  "Maybe not my face, this time."

"Good girl," Sangyeon says.  "Keep going."

"Three."  Juyeon digs nails into his own thigh.  "I want you to toss me around.  Like, pull my hair and be rough.  Treat me like I'm nothing."

They pull into a driveway, come to a slow stop.  Sangyeon parks and turns to look at him, lit only by dim moonlight.

"I can do that," he says, reaching over to slide his own hand onto Juyeon’s leg, thumb stroking little circles over the tight denim.  "Thank you for telling me, Juyeon-ah, that was very brave of you."

The praise goes shivering through Juyeon like a hot drink on a cold day.  He unbuckles his seatbelt, going for the car door, but Sangyeon stops him with a squeeze of his leg.

“Before we go in.  I use ‘red’ to stop, unless there’s another safeword you prefer.”

“No, that’s… fine.”  Juyeon’s thigh twitches under Sangyeon’s fingers.  His gaze makes Juyeon feel prickly, like his skin’s too tight.

“Good.  You stop me anytime, no questions asked.  Just because we stop doesn’t mean we can’t start again later, either.  It’s not all-or-nothing.”  Sangyeon smiles warmly.

Juyeon licks his lips, nods.  “Okay.”

“Alright, then.”  The smile drops from Sangyeon’s face, something cool and calculating shuttering in his eyes.  “Here’s what I want you to do.  We’re going to go inside, and I’m going to show you to the bedroom.  You’re going to pick out three toys you want to play with tonight and lay them out for me, and then you’re going to wait.”

Juyeon’s heart leaps to his throat.  He can barely breathe.  “Okay,” he whispers with the little air he has in his chest.

“‘Okay, sir,’ Juyeon-ah.”  This time, there’s an edge of condescension to his smile, chiding Juyeon’s mistake so early in their game.  Juyeon swallows, hard.

“Okay, sir.”  It’s difficult to form the words, his voice coming out small and weak, but he manages.  The heated look Sangyeon gives him is reward enough.

His hands shake on the door of the car as he exits, following Sangyeon inside.  The house is modest, comfortably furnished, the living room softly illuminated by the light in the entryway as Juyeon toes off his shoes.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?” Sangyeon asks from behind him, catching him slightly off-guard.  He half-turns, a quiet noise escaping his throat when he finds himself crowded up against the front door.

“Yes, please,” Juyeon says, quickly tacking on a “sir” when he realizes he’s forgotten.  Sangyeon smiles, pleased, as their lips brush.

Sangyeon kisses slow, and sure, and like he has all the time in the world to coax Juyeon’s lips apart and drink in the little noises he makes.  When Juyeon tries to take more, to push forward, Sangyeon’s hand is there on his jaw to keep him still.  It makes him ache to feel that hand elsewhere, to be pinned down and made obedient.

“Beautiful,” Sangyeon murmurs as he pulls away, plush lips spit-slick and reddened.  Juyeon sighs at the loss, leaning forward unconsciously.  Sangyeon chuckles, and it makes his face heat.  “The bedroom is down the hallway, first door on the left.  Do you remember what I told you?”

Juyeon nods, and he goes.

The lights are already on, dim, when Juyeon opens the door.  This clearly isn’t Sangyeon’s personal bedroom — too tidy, no clothes anywhere and cleaning supplies on the bedside, the bed with only a topsheet on it despite the autumn chill settling in.

Before he notices any of that, though, he notices the odd piece of furniture near the bed, like some kind of leather-padded fusion between a picnic bench and a pommel horse.  Without thinking, he approaches and runs his fingers over the surface, the leather smooth and cool to the touch.  He shivers, thinking about its potential use.

But Sangyeon gave him a task.  Shaking his head, Juyeon looks around, eyes landing on the cabinets against the far wall.  Tentative, still taken by the odd feeling of being an intruder in a near-stranger’s space, he opens the cabinets one by one to look inside.

He finds basically an entire sex-shop’s worth of toys and implements and paraphernalia, one drawer after another, organized by… purpose, he supposes, at least for the toys he can put a name to.  There are some he honestly can’t identify, even with all his research.  Cock rings are easy, gags and riding crops familiar to him, but he can’t figure out what you would even do with some of the other things in Sangyeon’s collection.

Juyeon has to take a deep breath, stepping back for a moment.  He remembers what it felt like in the car, to have nowhere to look, nothing to focus on but Sangyeon’s desires and his own.  I want you to hit me.  I want you to be rough.  I’d like to tie you up.

Hands shaking slightly, he picks out a pair of handcuffs — a deep wine-colored leather, butter-soft and connected by a thin chain.  He lays them on the bed.

Then, a leather slapper, long and thin instead of round like the other paddles in the drawer.  He tests it on his palm before laying it next to the handcuffs, and it produces a satisfying sting, the layers of material smacking against each other and echoing in the quiet room.

Finally — and here, he resists the voice in his mind that screams isn’t this too much, isn’t this too much to ask for? — he lays out a collar and leash, the same dark red leather as the cuffs.  He can barely breathe as he does, can barely look at them, thinking of the collar he has at home in a drawer, barely touched and hidden away.

Juyeon realizes all at once that he’s taken way too long to choose, that Sangyeon could be back any second.  Panicked, he strips down to his boxer-briefs, shivering in the cool air.  Sangyeon didn’t tell him to fold his clothes but he does so anyways — it feels wrong to leave them heaped on the floor.

He stands, almost-naked and trembling slightly, and realizes that Sangyeon didn’t tell him how to wait.  He gingerly takes a seat on the edge of the bed, gaze fixed on the floor and determinedly not on the toys sitting innocuously to his right.

His mind wanders — what will Sangyeon do when he opens the door?  Will he start in on Juyeon right away, throw him to the ground and treat him like a dog?  Will he make Juyeon wait even longer, drag out the anticipation until he’s a mess, begging for the slightest touch?

It feels almost like startling awake, when the door opens.  Sangyeon leans against the doorframe, just… watching, taking in the picture he makes.  Juyeon licks his lips unconsciously, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap.

“On your knees, baby.  On the floor.”  Sangyeon’s voice brooks no argument.  Juyeon wants to melt.  He slides off the bed and onto the floor so quickly that it sends a stinging little shock through his legs, and Sangyeon laughs quietly at his eagerness.

“Good girl,” he continues, stepping further into the room and closing the door.  “Let me see what you picked out, hm?”

Juyeon stares intently at the cracks between the floorboards, listening as Sangyeon steps past him to the bed — still in his boots, still fully clothed, and doesn’t that just make Juyeon squirm inside.

“A matching set,” he comments, no doubt referring to the cuffs and collar.  There’s a faint jingle as Sangyeon picks them up.  “Did you want to look like a pretty little slut for me?”

A shudder wracks Juyeon from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

“Yes, sir,” he manages, voice barely audible.

“And you think I’m going to hit you with this?”  Juyeon jumps at the sharp smack that rings out in the room as Sangyeon tests the slapper on his own thigh.  “This isn’t for beginners, Juyeon-ah.”

“I want it!”  Juyeon blurts out, finally turning to look at Sangyeon properly.  His cheeks heat with embarrassment — over his own inexperience, over the amusement in Sangyeon’s voice.

Before he can process what’s happening, Sangyeon’s got a hand in his hair, yanking until he’s looking down at his knees again.  It wrings a gasp out of Juyeon, the stinging going straight to his cock where it strains in his briefs.

“This is what you want?” Sangyeon demands, nudging Juyeon’s thighs apart with one booted foot.  “You think you can take forty of these?  Fifty?”  Without warning, he brings the slapper down on Juyeon’s bare inner thigh, a bright flash of pain that fades quickly into stinging warmth.

Fuck, Juyeon wants to say.  Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and bites out, “Yes, please, sir.”

Sangyeon laughs.  “Alright, baby.  Just remember that you asked for it.”  Juyeon bites his lip against the whine that wants to escape as Sangyeon steps back behind him again.

Before he can regain his balance, so to speak, there’s leather against his throat, the brush of fingertips as Sangyeon buckles the collar at the nape of his neck, just on this side of too-tight.  The leash hangs down his back for now, tickling at the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his underwear.

“There you are,” Sangyeon murmurs.  “Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you.”  Juyeon’s breath comes fast and shallow — he’s hyper-aware of each inhale, now that he can feel the collar press against his trachea through the thin skin.  

He can’t hold back his whine when Sangyeon fists the leash in his hand, yanking up and back and pressing the cold metal studs harder into his skin.  His cock twitches at the casual ownership of the gesture.

“Thank you, what?”

“Thank you, sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir,” Juyeon babbles, mouth hanging open, unable to take in enough air to satisfy the aching in his chest.

Sangyeon steps around so Juyeon can see his face and gives him a pitying, near-condescending look.

“I thought you’d be better at this, but you just keep forgetting,” he says, carding his fingers through Juyeon’s hair before giving it a harsh tug.  “Normally, I’d go a little easier, especially for such a pretty slut, but you told me you could handle it, didn’t you?”

Juyeon bites his lip so hard he’s afraid he might tear through it.  Sangyeon crouches down so he's eye-level with Juyeon, leash still in hand.

"You can handle it, right, Juyeonie?"

It's a threat and an out wrapped up in one, a chance for him to say no if he wants.  He can still feel the imprint of the slapper on his thigh, just barely tingling.

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl.  Now, up on the bed, on your back."

Juyeon scrambles to obey as soon as Sangyeon drops the leash, laying himself out and watching warily as Sangyeon picks up the handcuffs.

"What to do with these," he murmurs to himself, considering the length of Juyeon's body.  "If I cuff your hands in front, will you be good and not touch yourself?"

Juyeon swallows — he's already hard, will be needy soon.  It'll be difficult, but that's probably the point.

"I'll try, sir."  That seems to be the right answer, because Sangyeon smiles and gets right to buckling the soft leather around Juyeon’s wrists.

"Your hands are so big, sweetheart," Sangyeon comments, tracing lines over the sensitive skin of Juyeon’s palms.  "Sometime, I want to see you fuck yourself on these fingers."

He brings Juyeon's cuffed hands to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his first finger.  It's oddly tender, out of place in Juyeon’s expectations of a dom, but it works for Sangyeon somehow — the look in his eyes, the curve of his smile, it all makes Juyeon feel small and a little bit foolish, caught in the whiplash of soft lips on his skin and the insistent press of the collar on his neck.

"Alright, baby," Sangyeon says, straightening up and dropping Juyeon’s hands, "I'm going to give you one chance to pick how you want to get spanked."  His eyes sparkle with amusement at whatever look passes across Juyeon’s face.  "Once you're there, though, you can't change your mind."

Juyeon’s vision swims with every video he’s ever watched, the way certain positions seem to hurt more or less, but he just can't stop thinking about —

"Across your lap," he blurts out, cheeks immediately burning.  "Sir.  Can I?"

Sangyeon looks at him for a long moment, mouth slightly parted and something inscrutable in his eyes, before he nods and breaks into a pleased grin.

"Are you sure this is your first time, Juyeonie?" he laughs, sweet in a way that makes Juyeon want to squirm.  "Or are you just that much of a slut?"

Sangyeon saves him the embarrassment of answering by taking a seat on the edge of the bed, legs spread slightly, waiting with a slight smile.  The order is implicit — Juyeon’s going to have to put himself there, Sangyeon’s not going to alleviate the humiliation by dragging Juyeon across his lap by force.

It’s a little awkward without the use of his hands — he almost loses his balance before settling himself across Sangyeon’s thighs, the denim of Sangyeon’s pants rough against Juyeon’s bare skin.  Even through the layer of his underwear, this is the most friction he’s gotten against his dick and he barely manages to resist rutting down against the mattress.  Just the temptation has his cheeks burning.

“Gorgeous,” Sangyeon hums.  "Why don't we play a little game, Juyeonie?"

His warm palm drags across the back of Juyeon’s bare thigh.  Juyeon suppresses a shudder.

"Sir?"

"If you can keep from coming while I spank you, I'll give you something nice."

Fingertips trace over the thin skin at the back of Juyeon’s knee and he has to resist the ticklish urge to kick out.

"But if you come rutting against the bed like I can tell you want to, then I get to do something nice for me that might not be so nice for you."

Juyeon tangles his fingers in the sheets, desperate for something to ground him as his mind races.

"What do you say, Juyeonie?  Think you can be good for me?"

"Yes, sir."  His voice rasps, already quiet and a little broken to his own ears.

The slapper is loud, its lightning-quick one-two rhythm sending shockwaves through Juyeon's body with every impact.  The sting lasts wherever the leather lands, crackling and heating as Sangyeon layers hit after hit over his ass and upper thighs.

With the pain comes a blurry, all-encompassing pleasure that Juyeon could hardly describe.  It wipes away any hard edges of his thoughts, turns him into an animal operating solely on instinct, on stimulus-response.  Sangyeon hits him and he writhes, taking the sting and turning its heat into pleasure.  He finds himself mindlessly rutting against the mattress despite Sangyeon’s warning, unable to stop himself when it all feels so good.

"Look at you, taking it so nicely," Sangyeon observes, dropping the toy for a moment to run his palm over the reddened skin, heat and more heat.

Juyeon whines, hips shifting restlessly.

"Oh, do you want more?" Sangyeon asks in a tone that makes it clear that the question is anything but.  "Use your words, Juyeonie."

Sangyeon hooks his fingers in the collar, tugging slightly so the leather presses against Juyeon’s throat.

"Yes, yes."

"Good girl," Sangyeon smiles, and lays in with renewed fervor, the crack of the leather ringing out and mingling with the sound of their breath.

Juyeon can't decide whether to be grateful or resentful that Sangyeon didn't give him a set number of strikes or any kind of end point to strive towards as he struggles against the building pressure in his gut.

"Sir, I'm cl— close," he gasps out, choking on words as a particularly vicious hit lands where his ass meets his thigh.

"And?"  Sangyeon doesn't pause, doesn't falter, just continues steady and precise.

Juyeon's fists clench, eyes squeezed shut, and even knowing that he isn't supposed to, he can't stop grinding down, hips rolling and pressing and edging closer, closer —

Sangyeon laughs as Juyeon comes with a whine.  He presses down on the back of his neck but otherwise lets him writhe to his heart's content, riding out his intense yet somehow unsatisfying orgasm against the sheets.

“There you go, baby, let it out,” Sangyeon murmurs, so indulgent and sweet that it wraps back around to condescension.  It just makes Juyeon squirm harder, chasing the last of the sensation.

Dread settles slowing in his stomach, replacing the receding pleasure as Sangyeon runs a hand down his spine and over the tender skin of his ass and thighs.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Juyeon mumbles, twisting in an attempt to meet Sangyeon’s gaze.  Sangyeon tsks, shoving Juyeon’s head back down.

“It was your choice, Juyeonie,” he soothes, fingers gliding over every inch of burning red skin.  “I know it’s hard for sluts to control themselves, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”  Even though he just came, heat spikes through Juyeon’s gut.

“But I told you what would happen,” Sangyeon continues, and with a hard yank on the leash and another hand on his shoulder, he forces Juyeon up onto his knees and then onto his back, sprawling onto the sheets.  The sudden, disorienting change makes Juyeon gasp, scrambling for balance with his hands still cuffed together.

“Sir?”

“Take those off.”  Sangyeon gestures to Juyeon’s soaked briefs before he stands, stepping over to the cabinets that Juyeon had rifled through when he’d arrived.  Juyeon wriggles out of his underwear, struggling with his wrists still cuffed together and limbs shaky.  Sangyeon retrieves something quickly, no doubt exactingly familiar with the location of every last toy in the vast collection, and comes back holding it slightly behind him so Juyeon can’t see what he’s brought.

Sangyeon tosses the toy to the side and levers himself onto the bed, grabbing Juyeon by the knees so he can insinuate himself between.  He pins Juyeon’s hands above his head easily, holding onto the chain that hooks the cuffs together, and the position brings his face close enough to feel breath, Sangyeon’s lips near his ear.  He hooks one of Juyeon’s legs around his waist, hefting the other over his shoulder so he's spread open, nowhere to go.

And tonight he's had Juyeon on his knees and over his lap but something about this makes Juyeon feel completely and absolutely taken.  His dick gives a pitiful twitch and he whines in protest as Sangyeon palms him, oversensitive.

"Oh, sweetheart," Sangyeon purrs, reaching over for whatever he'd retrieved a moment ago.  "I told you, this is something nice for me, not for you."

A loud buzzing starts up, and though Juyeon can't tear his eyes away from the kind-cruel smile on Sangyeon’s face, he knows immediately that it's a vibrator, and it sounds big.  Fear shoots through him and he struggles instinctively against the hand holding his wrists.

"Please, no, no —"

"That's not the magic word," Sangyeon chides, pressing a laughably chaste kiss to Juyeon’s cheek.  He knows that it's an out, a chance to safeword, but when Sangyeon drags the wand over his thigh, he finds that he rather likes how it feels to beg for mercy, knowing that nothing he says will stop what’s about to happen.

"No, please, it's too soon, it's gonna hurt," he gasps out.  Sangyeon chuckles and it’s softly indulgent, like someone might laugh at a pet or a stubborn child.

“Shh, just take it for me,” he soothes, “just be a good girl and take it.”

He runs the vibe over the head of Juyeon’s dick and his mouth opens on a silent scream.  His back attempts to arch, to escape the overload, but Sangyeon keeps him in place with nowhere to go.  It hurts so much, agonizing in a way the spanking wasn’t, bright-white and concentrated in the pit of his stomach.  There’s pleasure there, too, under the immediacy of the pain as it ebbs and flows, as Sangyeon drags the vibrator fully over his length.

“So pretty,” murmurs Sangyeon, dropping his hold on Juyeon’s hands so he can run his palm over Juyeon’s flushed chest, tugging at his collar on the way.  “Can’t wait to see you come again for me.”

“No,” Juyeon protests, groaning and mindless and writhing, “no, please, I can’t, I can’t.”

Sangyeon clicks his tongue in displeasure.

“So ungrateful,” he chides, slapping the inside of Juyeon’s thigh just barely hard enough to sting.  “I’m letting you come twice and all you can do is complain.  You should remember how nice I was tonight when you’re not allowed to come at all.”

He leaves off Juyeon’s dick, instead pressing the head of the toy against his perineum.  It doesn’t hurt quite as sharply, but the deep, overwhelming vibrations send him rocketing towards the edge too-fast and too-soon.  Juyeon’s trapped here between the headboard and Sangyeon’s solid form, unable to draw back or press forward and it shatters him, leaves him begging pathetically between panting whines.

“It hurts, it hurts,” he repeats, over and over — like that’s going to change Sangyeon’s mind, like he didn’t come here in the first place hoping that Sangyeon would hurt him so well.

“But it feels good, doesn’t it?” Sangyeon urges, eyes fixed intently on Juyeon’s face, smile on his lips.  “Come on, baby, just give it up for me.”

He wraps his hand around Juyeon’s dick, drawing firm circles over the too-sensitive head with his thumb, and it’s too much, too much, it hurts so fucking badly but Juyeon can’t help but come with a weak, hoarse sound that would be a scream if he weren’t so fucked-out.  Sangyeon murmurs praise as he seizes and shakes through it, coaxing mostly-clear release from him that pools on his stomach.

“So pretty, such a good, pretty girl.”  Juyeon can barely hear him, the words sound like they’re traveling underwater.

And the vibrator just keeps going.  Juyeon snaps into a moment of clear panic, desperately trying to wriggle away.  He wants to cry — tears form in his eyes.  Is Sangyeon going to force him through another one, going to hold him there until he really does go insane?

“No, no, no, please, no,” he moans, legs kicking out as best they can, pushing at Sangyeon’s chest with his bound hands, arms jelly-weak.  Sangyeon laughs, running the vibrator lightly over Juyeon’s abused, half-hard dick just to see him seize and give up a last weak spurt of cum.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s over,” he soothes, turning the vibrator off finally and setting it aside.  “You’re done, you did so well for me.”

Juyeon drinks up the praise like cool water in the desert, tears spilling over in sheer relief.  He attempts to cling, allows Sangyeon to gather him up like a child in his arms and stroke his hair and murmur little compliments into his skin until he stops shaking so badly.

“Hey, baby,” Sangyeon says, finally pulling back to cup his face and look him in the eyes.  “Can you tell me how you’re doing?”

What does he even say?  That he’s never come so hard in his life, that his body feels a little distant but in a nice way, that any moment now he might start crying again, that he might be a little bit in love?

“M’good,” he settles on, because it’s not wrong — he does feel good, boneless and floaty and strange.  “Can you…”  He gestures with his wrists.

“Yeah, of course.”  Sangyeon unbuckles the cuffs, tossing them to the end of the bed.  He presses a kiss to the inside of each wrist, over the reddened, sensitive skin.  Juyeon shivers.  “I’m gonna clean you up a little, okay?”

Sangyeon reaches to the bedside table for a moment to snag a wet wipe and delicately cleans the cum from Juyeon’s stomach, trying his best to avoid touching his dick.  It’s gentle and full of care and Juyeon finds himself relaxing against the pillows.  It’s a different kind of surrender, allowing himself to be taken care of, but he finds he likes it too.

He’s offered a water bottle, which he accepts gratefully, suddenly overwhelmingly thirsty.  Sangyeon shucks off his shirt and jeans (finally) before tucking himself into the space next to Juyeon.

“Here, let me get that collar off you,” he says, gesturing for Juyeon to lean in.  The thought of removing it makes Juyeon whine and Sangyeon laughs quietly.  “You can’t sleep with it, c’mon.”

Juyeon traces where the leather had rubbed at his skin and shivers, already missing the weight of it around his throat.  Sangyeon pulls him in against his chest, broad and warm, interrupting his train of thought.

“I’d like to see you again,” he says, carding his hand through Juyeon’s hair.

Juyeon swallows, immediate excitement welling in his chest.  Be realistic, he chides himself.  He’s a professional, he probably doesn’t want to do this for free again. Out loud, he replies, “I’d like that a lot, but I can’t really pay for —”

Sangyeon cuts him off with a laugh.  “Silly, I didn’t pick you up to give you a work sample, I picked you up because you’re gorgeous and I wanted to.”  Sangyeon’s smile is gentle and warm and makes Juyeon want to bask in it for hours.  Juyeon flushes and burrows further into his chest.  “I was thinking about breakfast tomorrow, to start.”

“That sounds nice.”

“As long as you do understand that I don’t stop working even if I start dating.”  Sangyeon says it with the tone of something he’s had to say to any number of dates.  A pang goes through Juyeon’s chest, imagining how that conversation might have gone badly.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he mumbles, squeezing at Sangyeon’s hip where his hand rests.

“Good,” Sangyeon says, and they’re not playing anymore but the praise still makes warmth radiate out from Juyeon’s chest down to the tips of his fingers.  He’s suddenly overwhelmingly sleepy, and it must be clear on his face because Sangyeon chuckles and kisses his forehead.  “You can go to sleep, baby, I’ll wake you in the morning.”

And in the morning they’ll get breakfast at the diner down the street, and Juyeon will find out that Sangyeon also dabbles in dance and that they have some mutual friends, actually, in both Sangyeon’s line of work and in Juyeon’s studio circles.  They’ll exchange numbers with the promise to see each other again, and they’ll actually follow through.

Juyeon will go back to his apartment delightfully sore and full and lighter than he’s felt in a long time, and he’ll take his sweet time replying to the twelve unread and unnecessarily frantic messages from Chanhee on his phone.