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Jungkook was doing fine. He was. If he set a dozen alarms on his phone reminding him to do things like hydrate, grab a snack, or go to bed at a decent hour, that was his own business. He regularly scheduled time with a maintenance dom, which at least let him take the edge off the persistent need he had to submit. So what if conventional wisdom had it that people who scored particularly high on the Alexander scale couldn't function on their own? He was doing it, wasn't he?
He was doing it, but he wasn't happy. He was doing it, but every day he had to fight with himself about going back to his old eros. Sure, Minhyuk-nim came from the tradition of dominants that believed that a sub's stated hard limits were basically just suggestions that they needed to work through, and sure, Soomin was a catty bitch who enjoyed enumerating all of Jungkook's flaws as a sub to the doms and blaming him for things he hadn't done so she could watch him be punished, and sure, Seungho and Minho didn't have a brain cell between them but both of them had vengeful streaks and violent tempers. But he at least knew them. In any event, no other eros would take him, not when he was a sub who had left his last eros on his own. They wouldn't trust him not to do it again, and, in many cases, they'd just return him to the old eros, because he was a sub and so obviously any issues he might have had were misunderstandings that could be worked out if he just did what his doms told him to do.
It was bullshit. He knew it was bullshit, but that was how society worked. He found ways to cope, he got through his days, and if he returned home every evening from the menial file clerk job that was the only thing he could get given his status and education and longed for company, well, loneliness was better than the alternative.
This particular evening was one of the ones he'd scheduled for a maintenance dom session. The place he went to was a couple of blocks away from his apartment, which was why he kept going there. He could get back home easily after the fifteen minutes of mandatory aftercare. He hated everything else about the place, though. It was sterile, the furniture was uncomfortable, and going there felt like the worst kind of doctor's appointment. But they respected his limits, and even if they didn't, the owners were too cheap to spring for a lot of props.
He sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, listening for them to call his name and idly flipping through an issue of Cosmo . The article he he was reading promised him ten ways of driving his dom wild, and Jungkook was convinced it had been written by a switch who almost never did scenes in an intense way. Or perhaps by someone who had no experience with actual partners. Buy some bunny ears to make that pet play sparkle? Hang a doughnut off your dom's dick and eat it? The first sounded far too basic, and the second sounded like a great way to get some kind of infection.
He envied people who didn't need much in the way of dominance or submission. It would be so much easier for him if he was one of those people, but he liked having direction. He used to like giving up control to someone else. Now, though, he was scared of the prospect. He liked the maintenance dom service because he had exactly one hour with a dom and then it would be over. He could pencil it in on his calendar, and even if it was never enough, it was at least something.
The tinkle of a bell announced a newcomer to the lobby. Jungkook looked up reflexively and then did a double take. He hadn't seen Soomin in almost eight months, but here she was, dressed in a short, plaid skirt and a blouse that was cut low enough to reveal more than a hint of cleavage. Her makeup was as flawless as it always was, and her bearing and posture suggested that everything about this place was beneath her.
Jungkook looked around, as if Minhyuk or Seungho might come through the door at any moment. He was relieved when they didn't, but then he felt Soomin's eyes on him.
She went to the counter to fill out check-in paperwork, and Jungkook debated the pros and cons of enduring her company and possibly her being able to figure out he lived closer or incurring the cancellation fee. When she turned away from the counter and made her way toward him, Jungkook knew he'd be eating the cancellation fee.
"Jungkook." Her voice was pitched loud enough to carry to everyone else in the waiting room. "There you are. We've been so worried."
Jungkook would have bet the entirety of his meager paycheck that Soomin hadn't been worried. She'd never wanted a second sub in their eros, and she'd made that clear to him since his parents signed the contract giving him to the eros on his 18th birthday.
"What–what are you doing here?" Jungkook said. His voice came out a thin, thready squeak and he hated it.
Soomin reached over and patted him on the head. "I'm here to see a maintenance dom, same as you are," she said, tone dripping with condescension. "Why else would I be here?"
"But your eros–" he began.
"Minhyuk-nim and Minho-nim are out of town," she said airily. "And I'm mad at Seungho-nim." Her eyes widened and she laughed merrily. "Did you think it was something else? Like maybe we were looking for you?"
Jungkook had thought exactly that. He didn't know if the paranoia was justified, or if it was a symptom of how much he needed to be settled. Either way there was a buzzing sensation in his head that screamed not safe, not safe, not safe ! He couldn't play this game with her, and given Seungho's temper, he didn't want to be caught in the crossfire when the dom inevitably found Soomin, which was what he was guessing would probably happen, because he'd seen this particular dynamic play out on multiple occasions.
He didn't think. He was going to have to pay the cancellation fee anyway, and then he was never coming back to this place again. He got up, dropped the magazine, and then blindly stumbled toward the door.
"Jungkook," Soomin called impatiently. "Stop being so dramatic, good Lord!"
He didn't answer, just stumbled out of the facility. Sure enough, just as he'd suspected, there was Seungho, striding purposefully toward the clinic, a scowl making his normally stern features even more forbidding.
Jungkook turned and ran. He ran in the opposite direction of his apartment. He had no idea where he was going, but he couldn't stop. They couldn't make him go back. He wouldn't! He'd rather be alone and considered defective than back in that house. Tears streamed down his face, which he dashed away as quickly as he could. Minhyuk's old taunting words echoed in his head. Why are you making a scene, Jungkook-ah? You're only making it worse. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
He was grateful that one of the things he'd started doing when he left the eros was working out. The endorphins of exercise weren't as good as truly being settled by a dom, but the mindless activity and the exercise calmed him. Or made him too tired to think, which sometimes was just as good. That was serving him in good stead now, as the blocks flew by. He ran until he got a stitch in his side, and when he slowed down and realized he was several kilometers from the maintenance clinic, his shoulders came down slightly from around his ears. Seunho and Soomin surely wouldn't follow him this far out.
He was nowhere near the shabby neighborhood he'd called home. The streets were tree-lined, he could see window boxes with a profusion of plants, and at one point he passed a school with what looked like a state-of-the-art playground. It made him think of his childhood, and he had to swallow down a stab of homesickness.
Eventually, he made his way into a small park. He walked down a meandering path until he reached a duck pond. There was a man sitting on a bench, headphones in, scribbling things in a notebook. There was something about the man–short, pale, delicate features–that made him feel entirely safe, even though Jungkook had never met him. Jungkook wasn't sure how he knew the man was a dom. Maybe it was the wayne seemed entirely unbothered by the sweaty random stranger who sat down beside him on the park bench. Maybe it was the supposed sub instincts the melodramatic romance movies he liked were always going on about. Either way, Jungkook didn't question why he felt so safe.
He perched on the edge of the bench as far from the stranger as he could get, because even though the man seemed safe, he also didn't want to anger him by getting up in the man's space despite very much wanting to do so. He willed his breathing to slow and his heart to calm. Think , he told himself, pretending it was a dom saying those words to him. Plan out your next steps.
First, he'd need to figure out where he was. He'd been running blindly, with no plan other than getting away from possible pursuit. It was getting dark, and he hated the idea of walking home at this time of night, but it wasn't like he had a choice. He couldn't afford an Uber, because the rest of the money he had in his account would go toward the automatic cancellation fee at the maintenance dom clinic. When was the last time he'd bought groceries? He'd been planning to do that tomorrow, when his head was clearer so he wouldn't be tempted to put a bunch of junk in his shopping cart. But now he couldn't afford it, and did he even have anything at home except for that jar of kimchi of dubious origin in the back of his cabinet? Where was he going to get food? He'd never dumpster-dived before, but he had heard it was a thing people did. What if he got e. coli or salmonella from eating dumpster food and couldn't work? He'd get fired and then how would he pay his rent? Would he have to beg his old eros to take him back because everyone was right? He was asub and therefore incompetent. Could he endure their cruelty? Could he survive it a second time with his dignity and self-respect intact?
It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. The tears returned. He tried to stifle his distressed whimpers, but he couldn't. He couldn't. He'd failed and he would always fail, and he couldn't think because his mind was too loud and he just wanted someone to make it better but there wasn't and there never would be again because he was stupid, hopeless, a terrible sub that his parents clearly hadn't wanted because otherwise they wouldn't have accepted his eros's offer for him, and no one else wanted him either, and now he was going to have to find a new maintenance clinic and possibly move apartments and–
"Sweetheart." There was a firm voice, low, raspy, quiet but authoritative, close to his ear. "I'm going to need you to breathe for me. You can do that, I know you can. Just do it with me. Breathe in…"
His companion on the park bench had moved closer, watching him with concerned, catlike eyes. His gaze on Jungkook's face was intense, and Jungkook was helpless not to obey. He took in a slow, ragged breath, and then expelled it when the stranger told him to.
"That's right, angel. You're doing so well," the man murmured. "Let's try again, hmm?"
Jungkook breathed in and out with the man once more, and he felt his mind wanting to spiral down into submissive headspace. This man, whose name he didn't know, was safe. He could let go… Except that he couldn't. The man was a stranger.
Another sob escaped him and he curled in on himself, tucking his head between his knees.
"Can I touch you, sweetness?" the man asked softly. Jungkook managed only a tiny nod and then the man was rubbing gentle circles over his back. "You're safe," he murmured. "Hyung's got you. At least until I can get you back to your people. Where is your eros, sweetheart?"
Jungkook only sobbed louder. "Don't have one," he managed to get out, speaking the words to his well-worn boots, unable to abide the thought of the stranger rejecting him. "I left. Didn't feel safe."
It was a testament to how frayed he was feeling that he didn't even bother to lie. Normally he would have said something vague about how they were away but would totally be back tomorrow, but he just didn't have it in him to prevaricate that much.
"I see," the stranger said, still rubbing soothing circles over his back. "Well, I don't have an eros, either, so that makes two of us."
Jungkook stared at him in shock. How could an eros not want this beautiful man? If he'd been in Jungkook's old eros, things would have been so much better. Were all the heads of eroses universally complete idiots?
"What's your name?" the man asked after a moment. "Much as I enjoy creative pet names, they aren't helpful."
That brought Jungkook back to the situation at hand. "Jun—Jungkook," he stammered.
The man nodded. "I'm Yoongi. Born in '93."
"'97," Jungkook mumbled.
"Good. You can call me hyung for now." The hand trailed away from his back and down his wrist until Yoongi had captured one of Jungkook's hands in his. "OK," he said, voice quiet and self-assured. "Here's what we're going to do, Jungkook-ssi. I'm going to take you to the cafe my friend owns, and I'm going to let him feed both of us. He's got a back room he uses when a sub needs a quiet place to be, so you won't have to worry about other people. There's an emergency call button that you can press anytime if you don't feel safe with me. If you press that button, I'll pay for your taxi home, no questions asked."
Jungkook nodded, the rote "Yes, hyung" coming out automatically. Now that the prospect of food had been put before him, he was ravenously hungry.
"After you've eaten, I hope you'll tell me what got you in your situation, Jungkook-ssi. You only have to tell me as much as you're comfortable with, but I'm a good listener and I won't pass judgment."
Jungkook nodded and murmured another "Yes, hyung." He didn't trust himself. No one else ever had, so he didn't know if Yoongi was safe and comforting because Jungkook wanted him to be, or if he was setting himself up for something bad to happen. But it wasn't like his day could get worse, he decided.
"Thank you, hyung," he said quietly, eyes downcast. "I... I'm sorry I... disrupted your routine."
"I'm not." Yoongi squeezed his hand and then drew him to his feet. "Come on, Kook-ah. Let's get you fed."
The cafe Yoongi took him to was small and well-appointed. As soon as he walked through the doors, he felt safe, safe, safe. It smelled of warm pastries, coffee, and something else that was indefinably homey. He would have cheerfully moved in if he could have.
The broad-shouldered, beautiful man behind the counter beamed when he saw Yoongi. "Yoongichi!" he exclaimed loudly, scurrying out from behind the counter. "You live!" Then the man swept Yoongi into a hug, forcing Jungkook to drop his hand momentarily. He made an unhappy sound in the back of his throat at the loss and the two men separated. Yoongi slid his hand back into Jungkook's, and the stranger considered him for a long, quiet moment. Jungkook realized that the man wore a simple choker around his neck, like the one Jungkook also wore. Another sub that wasn't claimed by an eros.
"You're going to need the back room, then?" the stranger asked, much more gently now.
"Yes, hyung."
"It's yours." The stranger extended a hand to Jungkook. "My name is Seokjin. Any friends of Yoongi-yah eat on the house, so I hope you're hungry."
Jungkook nodded, still marveling over Seokjin. He was an unclaimed sub, but he owned his own business. He must be a switch. No one would ever let a strong sub be in charge of anything more complex than the laundry. How had Seokjin done it?
Seokjin led them behind the counter past a bustling kitchen and down a long hall to what appeared to be an office.
"We'll just keep the door open," Yoongi said, gesturing Jungkook to enter ahead of him. "Do you see the call button?"
Jungkook did. It was bright red, and situated at eye level on the wall closest to the door.
"Use it if you need to," Yoongi reiterated.
Seokjin nodded vigorously. "I want subs to feel safe here," he said firmly. "I'll throw him out if he's an asshole." Then he turned and walked out, pausing to give Jungkook's shoulder a comforting squeeze.
The office held a desk and chairs, but there was also what Jungkook could only describe as a nest in the opposite corner. There was a ring of pillows, and several blankets of different sizes. Jungkook looked at the spot longingly, and Yoongi smiled. "Go on, Kook-ah," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Seokjin-ssi won't mind?" Jungkook asked, his voice still trembling annoyingly.
"No, not at all," Yoongi assured him. "He wouldn't have set up the pillows that way if he didn't want them to be used."
Jungkook cautiously made his way over to the pillows and lowered himself onto one. He was still tense, waiting to learn he'd committed some transgression, but Yoongi only smiled, bright and warm, and wrapped a pink fleece around him. Jungkook whimpered when Yoongi started to withdraw. He couldn't remember the last time someone who didn't work for the maintenance clinic had touched him, and now he'd gotten so many kind touches that he was feeling drunk on them and wanted more.
"Hyung isn't going anywhere," Yoongi assured him, sitting down beside Jungkook. "And I like cuddles."
Jungkook reacted instinctively, wrapping himself, koala-like, around Yoongi, burying his face in the shorter man's neck. He couldn't really hide behind Yoongi, but he instinctively wanted to.
"Cute," Yoongi murmured, stroking his arm where it rested across his stomach. "Do you feel safe now?"
"Uh-huh." Despite his best efforts, he was slipping into a more submissive headspace. The logical part of his brain recognized that trusting a stranger he'd met on a park bench half an hour ago to get him through a scene was not the best idea he'd ever had, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Yoongi was safe. Yoongi would take care of him. He knew it the way he knew he could count on there being oxygen every time he breathed.
Yoongi let him hold him like a human-sized teddy bear, lacing his fingers through Jungkook's and murmuring soothing words that washed over him but did not require a response. An endless moment later, the door quietly opened and something delicious wafted to Jungkook's nose. He wanted to look, but that would involve moving out of his hiding spot and he couldn't bring himself to do that just yet.
"You have to let go of me, Kook-ah," Yoongi said with gentle amusement. "You're too heavy for me to support all your weight."
That seemed like an easy thing to fix for Jungkook. He simply scooped Yoongi up and got to his feet, moving toward the desk and the plate of food that was now on it.
"So I'm your security blanket, am I?" Yoongi asked, still clearly amused. "That's a new one for me, but I don't hate it."
The food Seokjin had put on the desk was mostly fruits and meat that had been cut up into bite-sized pieces. There were also several different kinds of cookies. Yoongi picked up the plate and they settled back in the nest. The dom sat sideways on Jungkook's lap, and reached for a piece of meat, bringing it to Jungkook's mouth.
He opened for it, enjoying the flavors that burst on his tongue. More than that, he enjoyed the feeling of someone taking care of him. He didn't have to decide what he would eat. Yoongi would take care of that for him. He let Yoongi keep feeding him, sometimes daring to lick Yoongi's fingers clean. Yoongi never rushed him, let him soothe himself with Yoongi's fingers in his mouth for as long as he needed to.
They didn't talk, but the combination of food and the full-body contact helped bring Jungkook a little clarity. When he couldn't eat anymore and Yoongi set the plate aside, removing his fingers from Jungkook's mouth for the last time, the sub had the presence of mind to say, "But hyung didn't eat. Will you allow me to serve you?"
Yoongi studied his face for a moment. "Is that what you like? Being of service?" he asked.
Jungkook nodded. "Hyungie took care of me," he said. "He... you... should eat, too."
"Then I would be honored with your service, Jungkook-ah." Yoongi said quietly.
It was Jungkook's turn to pick out the choicest bites of meat, offering them to Yoongi. Jungkook loved the delicate way Yoongi took the food from his fingers, and remembered happier times, with the dom he'd experimented with in high school, and how Jungkook would rest his head in Jimin's lap and feed him grapes like they were Roman dignitaries. He hadn't thought about Jimin in years, and he hoped he was well and involved with an eros who treated him the way he deserved.
When the food was gone, Yoongi, in an inadvertent call back to Jungkook's earlier thoughts, shifted around in the nest and urged him to rest his head in the elder's lap. Yoongi ran gentle fingers through his hair, the motion soothing and calming. "So tell me what happened, Kook-ah," he said.
Jungkook told Yoongi about seeing Soomin and Seungho, and about his worry that they would want him back in their eros. He couldn't quite bring himself to talk about the circumstances under which he'd left said eros, and Yoongi didn't ask.
When he finished speaking, Yoongi was quiet for a long time. His expression was thoughtful, and Jungkook caught him chewing on his lower lip. "Your eros were a bunch of idiots," he finally said. "They shouldn't have thrown you away." He gave a quiet chuckle. "Right now my instincts are clamoring for me to keep you. Which you don't have to agree to. I'll get over it. Even so, I want to help you. We can draw up a contract and I'll be happy to do a proper scene with you, with safe words and everything, anytime you ask. Would you be OK with that? You can always say no, I promise."
"I want you to keep me, hyung," Jungkook confessed. "I... really like you and I don't want to go home and be by myself."
Yoongi nodded. "I should tell you something, though," he said. "Full transparency. I'll understand if you change your mind about letting me take care of you."
Jungkook didn't know what to expect Yoongi to say. A kernel of anxiety unfurled in his chest, and he wriggled impossibly closer to Yoongi.
"I... I'm clinically depressed," Yoongi said.
Jungkook waited for there to be more, for a shocking revelation to accompany that statement, but nothing came and Yoongi sighed. "Yeah, I get it," he said unhappily. "I'm a fucking mess. I wouldn't pick me as a permanent dom, either."
"No." Jungkook spoke much more forcefully than he normally would to a dom. "You said my eros was stupid to throw me away. I'm not exactly the poster child for great mental health either. But... My eomma always says relationships require give and take. It can't just be the dom taking care of the sub all the time. If... if you really want to keep me, then I want to keep you, too, hyung. It doesn't make you a bad or incompetent dom to struggle with mental health. I don't care what kind of toxic dominance bullshit society likes to throw at people."
Yoongi urged Jungkook to sit up, taking both of his hands in his own and gazing for a long moment into his eyes. Whatever he was looking for, he clearly found it, because he gave a slow, tender smile.
"I'd like to kiss you, Kook-ah. May I?"
For his answer, Jungkook leaned forward eagerly. The kiss was soft, tentative, but full of promise. The next one was a little deeper, a hint at the kind of passion they might experience when they got to know each other better. Jungkook couldn't wait.
"Let's go home," Yoongi said when they pulled apart. Jungkook rose and offered him a hand up, and they left the restaurant, fingers interlaced. Something soft was unfurling in Jungkook's heart. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, he'd found a safe place and he was going to hang onto it with both hands.