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Holding hands was never supposed to turn into this, but this was where it led them. Hoseok was shaking. His hands trembled and his thighs were shuddering and all of his insides felt wobbly. But Taehyung was holding his hands, his trembling hands, and it was all going to be alright. Hoseok knew it was going to be alright, just like the first time they’d met.
His hands had been shaking then, too, in a tiny sterile exam room with a very nervous little dog weaving around his ankles. He’d woken up to find Mickey standing in a red puddle. It was disgusting. It was terrifying. It was definitely blood. And also dog piss, which made Hoseok roll his eyes as he cleaned it up. Were dogs really worth the hassle? Then Mickey licked his hand, shaking with his big brown eyes bulging. Hoseok had reached for the phone and scheduled an appointment at the emergency vet clinic and grabbed a couple of towels he didn’t mind never using for their intended purpose ever again.
In the waiting room, he paced. In the exam room, he paced more. He tried to sit, but it was too hard. It was way too early in the morning. He'd skipped everything but a shower and clean clothes on the way out the door. His dog was pissing blood and everything was awful. He was going to be late to work, his boss sounded pissed about it, his dog was sick, possibly dying, and he was the only one to take care of it all. Being an adult fucking sucked and Hobi was pissed off. And nervous. So he paced.
The door opened and a clipboard slipped in, followed by a kid in a t shirt with the emergency clinic logo and big blue letters proclaiming him a volunteer.
“Good morning, Mr. Jung. My name is Kim Taehyung, and I’m going to ask you some questions, alright?” the volunteer said, eyes scanning the clipboard. Hoseok squinted but didn’t stop pacing. The kid was tall-ish, gangly, brown hair sleek over his forehead. When he lifted his head, he was smiling and Hoseok felt his stomach clench. Shit. He was pretty, and maybe less of a kid than originally estimated. “Mr. Jung? Can you have a seat? It’s just a few questions and we’ll do our best to get this little… guy fixed right up.” He gestured towards Mickey with the clipboard.
“Mickey,” Hoseok said, still making laps around the room, with Mickey at his heels. He was going to trust the fate of his beloved pet into the (large) hands of this (pretty, deep-voiced) volunteer ?
“Yes, I see that. Mr. Jung? Can you please have a seat? You being agitated is probably making Mickey agitated, too.”
“I’m agitated because he was agitated first. Also pissing blood .”
“I know, sir, and that must have been just awful to wake up to. But it’s like… a loop. If you can calm down a little, it will help him settle. He needs to know that you’re in control. You’re his person.” The volunteer, Taehyung , was speaking slowly and softly. It was compelling. He liked that. He wanted to calm down, but Mickey was sick, possibly dying, and somehow he’d convinced himself that if he was moving, he was doing something. He needed to be doing something. It was ridiculous but everything was awful and he needed to be doing something . It kept things at a controlled level of chaos.
Taehyung pulled the chair a bit closer, resting his hand along the back. “Mr. Jung, do I need to tie you to the chair?”
Hoseok nearly tripped over his feet. He stared at Taehyung and coughed a little to clear his throat. “Hoseok,” he said as he sat. “You can call me Hoseok.”
“Thank you, Hoseok. Now, it’s just a few questions and then I’ll get the doctor in here right away, alright?” Taehyung felt the satisfaction of calming another nervous patient, and Mickey settled down next to Hoseok’s feet. He got the answers he needed and slipped back out the door, smiling at Mickey curled up in Hoseok’s arms now. He shook his head, shelved the chart and headed up to the front desk for the next patient, still thinking about Hoseok’s smile.
He lingered in the hallway after checking on the rescued kitten with fleas in Room 2. Poor thing was getting subcutaneous IV fluids. Taehyung needed to check the stock in the back room, but he didn’t want to miss the chance to say goodbye to Hoseok. To see if he had calmed down as much as Mickey.
The doctor left the room, closing the door behind him with his hip while he scribbled on a chart. “Taehyung, can you ask Jong Suk to mix up some amoxicillin for this patient? And I need some dish soap for the kitten. There should be samples on the shelf by the gauze.”
“Yes, Dr. Song,” Taehyung nodded. He swept through the tiny office to pop his head into the supply room, deliver the message to Jong Suk, grab the dish soap and was back in front of Hoseok’s exam room in record time.
The door opened and Hoseok was startled to see Taehyung waiting with a wide grin.
“How’d it go?” Taehyung asked, reaching out a hand to let Mickey sniff him again.
“Good. Great. Just a UTI, so… meds and a change of diet, but he should be fine. Kidneys feel fine. That’s what the doctor said, so…”
“Great! Well, I just wanted to see how you two were doing.”
“Thanks. That’s very nice.” Hoseok’s smile was growing as wide as Taehyung’s.
“So, if you need anything, have any questions, or whatever, you can, uh, you can give me a call.” Taehyung handed Hoseok a business card with his name and number scrawled on the back, pressed it into his hand, holding on for a moment before stepping back.
“Oh, is this like an advice line for the clinic?” Hoseok said, trying to maneuver his free hand around Mickey’s curious nose.
“No. No, actually, it’s just… just mine. My number.”
“Oh,” Hoseok said as he shoved the card in his pocket.
“No pressure. Just if you need anything.”
“Yeah. Thanks. That’s very nice.” Hoseok left the clinic feeling reassured about more than just his nervous, bloody puddle leaving dog. It had been a while since he’d been in a proper relationship and it felt nice to have someone take the time to offer even as little as a phone number. He thought about waiting the requisite number of days to seem cool and not desperate but after dropping Mickey off at home with a pile of clean-for-the-moment towels, he wound up texting Taehyung on his way into work. Taehyung responded quickly and after a few semi-reasonable dog questions and answers, he extended an invitation to join him dancing on the weekend. It was either a random lucky guess, or this Taehyung was some sort of observant wizard.
Hoseok was smiling as he unlocked the studio, glancing at his watch and hearing his boss’ earlier grumblings echo through his mind. He rushed through prep to get ready for the first set of classes, cutting corners where he could, marking up the white board while humming to himself. Everything was under control. Jazz and Beginner Tap Jongup would handle while Junhong taught Hip Hop I and II. Intermediate Ballet was with Jongin. Introductory Modern and the preschool ballet class Hoseok would take before heading across town to his shift at the station. He still had enough time to wipe down the mirrors and barres before students showed up. He had plenty of time. No reason for his boss to be grumpy. Everything was falling into place. Hoseok smiled. It was a good day.
Friday came not a moment too soon. Juggling teaching and working to pay the bills had left him stretched thin and eager to let loose. Hoseok was practically vibrating as he stepped into the club, eyes scanning for Taehyung. He let his fingers flutter against a thin leather choker against his neck, a little bit of comfort for his nerves. Everything was a controlled level of chaos.
Taehyung appeared out of the crowd, smiling and waving as he grabbed Hoseok’s hand and guided him towards the bar. Once they had drinks in hand, Hoseok looked around at everything and leveled Taehyung with a pointed look.
“At the risk of sounding like every bad pickup line ever,” Hoseok said, looking around at the flashing lights and enthralled crowd, “do you come here often?”
“Yeah, I guess. Just on the weekends. Two or three times a month?”
“Hell, what do you do for a living again? I’d love to be able to afford to go out so often.”
“Oh, I know the DJ, so I don’t have to pay cover to get in usually. And I don’t pay for my own drinks,” Taehyung said, waggling his eyebrows as he worked his way through the crowd. “Come on, there’s a good table back here.” Again, he reached for Hoseok’s hand, pulling him along.
Hoseok followed in his wake, feeling the thrum of the music and the press of strangers. He’d missed this. So much inspiration in such a small space. Hours in the studio could never compare to just one night in the club. “So, introduce me to everyone you know,” Hoseok said between sips of his drink. He hadn’t missed the way Taehyung had waved or nodded to nearly everyone that walked by.
“That might take a while. How about just the important ones?”
It turned out that the only people Taehyung considered important were his roommate Jimin--”Best friend since like forever, or college. Whatever.”--and the dj, Yoongi, who was adamant that this was just a weekend gig and he had a real job to get back to.
“Also music to tend to, so leave me alone!” Yoongi said, tucking himself back into the booth.
“He will sleep straight through Sunday and head back to work like this never happened,” Taehyung said with a shake of his head. “Workaholic like whoa.”
“Come on, Taehyung! I’m all jittery,” Jimin said, shaking his arms above his head. Hoseok watched him roll his neck and pegged him as a dancer right off.
“You dance?” he asked, rolling his shoulders as they walked the few steps out to the dance floor. Jimin nodded, giving Hoseok the once over in a familiar way, sizing up the competition.
“Not seriously. Not anymore. Real life and all that, right? But as often as I can,” Jimin said as he slipped into the crowd. “You?”
“Yeah. I teach when I’m not making ends meet being a PA down at channel 8.” The music swallowed any chance for further words, and they continued the conversation in their second language, dancing and evaluating each other until they could move together like a team.
Taehyung watched, dancing around the periphery, flirting with the kind of friends he only saw here, under the colored lights. He watched Hoseok and Jimin and felt that smug satisfaction again. He knew this was a good idea. This was going to be great. Hoseok was just what they needed. They needed a new friend and Taehyung had picked the right one. Work and the post graduate grind had been slowly draining all the fun out of them. They came here to remember what it was like to be free of the crushing weight of responsibilities and just get lost in music and alcohol, but sometimes it wasn’t enough.
He knew Jimin wanted more, needed a challenge and he thought Hoseok might just be it. He’d seen it in the exam room--the care and concern for his dog, the way he turned as he paced giving away his time spent dancing. Jimin needed a dance buddy, and while Taehyung kept up just fine, he didn’t challenge Jimin at all. He learned and he mimicked but he didn’t create. Not with dance. But Hoseok did.
Taehyung threw his head back and laughed as the music swelled around him. They moved together, all knees and elbows and hips, smiling in the flashes of light between the beats of dark. The smoke machine was still on low, creating a thin veil of fog that made everyone look just a little better--ethereal and smooth. Slipping around behind Jimin, Taehyung watched Hoseok watching him and laughed again. Hoseok jerked his chin towards the bar, but Taehyung shook his head. He wasn’t quite ready yet.
Jimin nodded, though, and dragged Hoseok off without a backwards glance.
“Is it always like this?” Hoseok asked as Jimin set down a bottle of soju with two tiny glasses.
“The club?” Jimin asked, tilting his head.
“No, him,” Hoseok said, tilting his head towards the flashing lights on the smoky dance floor. “He must be getting more ass than a toilet seat.” Hoseok poured a shot and quickly downed it.
“Taehyung? Oh, no. He’s not… he’s… just too busy loving everyone to ever love anyone,” Jimin said with an eyeroll. “Trust me, I think he’d be a bit easier to live with if he’d just get laid sometimes, but he’s…” Jimin waved his glass in the general direction of wherever, where Taehyung was doing moves he’d stolen from Jimin earlier in the evening. He wasn’t as good, but none of the people trying to get close to him seemed to mind. Hoseok and Jimin watched with matching grins. Then Jimin shook his head and poured a shot of soju for each of them, and Hoseok tore his eyes away and watched as Jimin licked his lips. They tossed the shots back and Jimin ran a hand through his hair. “He likes people better as abstract concepts than as actual, you know, people.”
“That’s weird,” Hoseok said.
“I’m weird,” Taehyung answered from behind Hoseok’s shoulder. “Pour me a drink, Chim?” Taehyung was grinning, sweat on his forehead and neck catching the light in ways that made Hoseok wish he could paint. Or write poetry.
“So, is he your new best friend now?” Taehyung said, tilting his head back to swallow the shot. Hoseok stared at his neck. A lot. Then blinked, coming back to his senses.
“Yeah, maybe,” Hoseok and Jimin said in unison. Jimin laughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
Taehyung wondered if he would regret this, start to feel jealous and wish he’d never brought Hoseok to their club.
He never did.
Taehyung thought it was the lure of Jimin in tight pants that kept Hoseok tagging along on their little stress-relief binges. They were two of a kind, flirting and teasing and making everyone, everywhere smile and forget why they cared about anything other than being happy. Taehyung loved the energy Hoseok brought, the way he challenged Jimin and kept him dancing--the encouragement that seemed to come as easy as breathing. Soon it was rare to go to the club without him, Hoseok’s hand tucked firmly in Taehyung’s as they made their way through the din.
Hoseok started coming over to carpool, then began showing up earlier and earlier, to help them get ready. To pre-game. To hurry them along. But somehow they always left later those nights. Sometimes they never left at all, until it was totally normal for Hoseok to come over and just be there, as familiar as the couch they both claimed was comfy enough to be worth every stitch of it’s unbearably orange fabric. It was normal to spend the evening lounging on the couch, fingers sometimes entwined, as they did anything and nothing. Just being near each other.
One night, Hoseok was agitated. Pacing, hair ruffled from too many tugs from his hands that couldn’t find any place to be still. Taehyung watched, and worried, and wondered.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah, fine, just… just a project. Big project. At the station? There’s a marketing thing, something about branding and we’ve had to remake all the… it’s just a big project. Lots of visibility. Don’t wanna screw it up. Not a big deal. Sorry. I’ll sit.”
“It’s okay. I was… I haven’t seen you like this since we met. I was worried Mickey was sick or something.” Taehyung munched on popcorn straight from the bag, following Hoseok with his eyes.
“Nah, he’s fine. Little shit.” Hoseok touched all the magnets on the fridge, laughing to himself, then walked back to the couch and sat. Taehyung was about to stretch out, anchor him, pin him down, but Hoseok popped up again, staring at the dvds.
“You wanna watch a movie?” Taehyung asked softly, but Hoseok still jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Huh? Yeah, ok. That’s a good idea. Where’s Jimin?”
“Overnight. The new rotation started this week.” Taehyung watched as Hoseok walked from one end of the bookshelf to the other, eyes flickering across the movies but not seeming to absorb any of the information about them.
“Right, right. That’s good. I mean, not good. But good to know.”
“Seriously, Hoseok. You need to settle down. I’m gonna get dizzy from all the pacing. Do I need to tie you to the chair?” Taehyung had asked this question before, jokingly, but he hadn’t known what to look for then. He knew now, and he was ready. Curiosity and the satisfaction of being right were so addictive. He saw the slight tightening at the corners of Hoseok’s eyes, the little flash of dimples as he gave a tiny smile, the quick swallow and little cough to clear his throat before speaking.
“Sorry. Yeah. Sorry. I need--” Hoseok stopped with a forced laugh. His fingers skittered along the spines of the dvds.
“Need what?” Taehyung asked. Hoseok shook his head, lips tight. “Hey, hyung. What do you need? I want to help.”
“Thanks, Tae. But it’s nothing. Not the… not the kind of thing you can help with.” Hoseok’s smile was just a little too wide, hiding secrets.
“If you say so, but I want to help. Any way I can. You can talk to me. Or not. That’s fine too. We can just ignore it all and watch a movie if that will make you feel better.”
Hoseok nodded, eyes still on the movies. “Yeah, let’s do that.” He grabbed one that looked mindless. He just needed to zone out for a little bit. He thought about going home, but an empty apartment didn’t sound appealing at all. He could keep it together for a couple of hours, hang out with Taehyung, then go home and crash. Sleep off the funk that was rattling his brain and try again tomorrow. Tomorrow was a new day. He settled on the couch next to Taehyung and before he could get his feet up on the coffee table, Taehyung had thrown his legs across Hoseok’s lap.
Hoseok smiled, enjoying the pressure. It made him feel a little better, a little safer. He might not vibrate off the couch and out into the atmosphere after all, not with Taehyung to keep him tethered to reality for a little while.
“You’re nice,” Hoseok said while Taehyung navigated the menu. The opening credits rolled and Taehyung was silent.
“Thanks, but I don’t have to be,” he said finally, turning the volume down to be heard over the cheesy dialogue.
“What?” Hoseok had lost the thread of the conversation somewhere during a car chase scene.
“If you need me to… be not. Not nice. I can do that.” Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the screen, but his hands were fidgeting in his lap. Hoseok smiled and laid a hand on Taehyung’s calf.
“TaeTae, you couldn’t hurt a fly. You love puppies and sugar highs.”
“I do love puppies. I’ve even trained a few. You don’t help out at a clinic like that and not know how to talk to dogs, which means showing them who’s in control of the situation. It… it calms them. They know they’re safe if I’m in charge.”
“Are… are you… what are you talking about?” Hoseok’s mind was making connections that didn’t make any sense. Sure, he’d seen Taehyung use his stern voice with Jimin and he was a headstrong, stubborn person, but something wasn’t right. Taehyung was hinting at something Hoseok was certain he couldn’t possibly be hinting at.
“I’m only saying that if you need help getting things under control, I can do that too. I’m not helpless. I’m not just fluff,” Taehyung said, voice rising. He didn’t sound angry or hurt, but Hoseok wasn’t sure that those emotions weren’t involved.
“Right. Of course you’re not. You’re right.” It was Hoseok’s turn to stare at the movie while he sorted out his thoughts. He liked Taehyung, liked his smile and his jokes, his long eyelashes and beautiful hands. He liked Taehyung, but Taehyung didn’t like anyone. Not in the ways Hoseok wanted. Not enough to follow through on the jokes and innuendo.
“Sorry I said anything. It’s not a big deal, hyung.” Taehyung’s voice was softer now, barely audible over the explosions on the screen.
“It is though. I’m not a dog, Tae.” Hoseok sucked in a breath and raked his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t a stranger to insult in the middle of a proposition, but he hadn’t expected either of those things from Taehyung.
“I know. I get it.”
“You don’t.” Hoseok pushed Taehyung’s legs off his lap, gently, but still putting some space between them. Space he didn’t think he needed before this. Taehyung scooted to the corner of the couch and stared at him, eyes wide and face blank. “It’s different. You play pretend and act out little scenes and stuff, but there are…” Hoseok sighed, feeling the knot in his stomach that always came when talking about this with someone new. “There are other scenes that aren’t like that.”
He braced himself for a barrage of questions, raised eyebrows, a wrinkled nose and a lot of stereotypes and misconceptions that just didn’t fit.
“I know.”
Hoseok blinked and twisted his head towards Taehyung. “You what?”
“I know. About scenes. I’ve read some stuff.”
“Look, if you think that fifty sh--”
“Not bad porn. Real stuff. Psych major, remember? Graduated with honors. I took a couple of classes on human sexuality and it was so fascinating I just kept reading stuff. I’ve never done it, but I understand the basic rules. And the, well some of the psychology behind it, not that anyone is a textbook case and really it’s all just best guesses anyway. I’m not saying this right. I’m sorry. You’re not a dog and you’re not a case study either. You’re my friend and I care about you. I want to help. People are complicated and I don’t have much experience with… with tying them up, but if that’s something you like, or want, or whatever, I’m… willing. To help.” Taehyung wasn’t fidgeting anymore. He wasn’t watching the movie anymore either. He was just watching Hoseok. It was unnerving. Hoseok felt vulnerable, like Taehyung could see his secrets.
“But you’re not into that kind of thing… are you?”
“I don’t know.” Taehyung shrugged, bit his lip, shook his hair out of his eyes. “It’s fascinating, but… I don’t know. If it would help you, I want to help.“
“You want to be my dom just to help me out?” Hoseok briefly considered the possibility that he’d passed out and was dreaming this whole strange conversation.
“If that’s what you want, yeah.” Taehyung leaned forward, not touching Hoseok, but putting himself within touching distance. Hoseok squinted at him. It was risky. It was weird. It was a very nice gesture, but he wasn’t sure.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to feel safe. And be calm.”
“Would that make you happy”
Taehyung nodded.
“What if what I need is to not be calm. In a controlled way. Is that okay?”
“That’s pretty vague, but I think the general premise sounds fine. We’d have to work out the details.”
“Yeah. We’d have to work out a lot of details. You’re gonna need a safe word.”
“I’ve already got one.”
Hoseok inhaled a piece of popcorn and Taehyung smiled smugly while thumping him on the back. “You what?” Hoseok wheezed, feeling like this whole conversation was somehow designed to undermine his grasp on reality.
“I have one. Have had for a long time. I mean, I can pick a new one if you want. Maybe I should do that anyway. Less baggage that way.”
“I thought you weren’t into this?”
“If by ‘this’ you mean tying people up, then yeah, but ‘this’ isn’t the only thing that safe words are good for. Look, it was a while ago, but I had a,” Taehyung tilted his head back and forth, rolling his eyes, “a friend, and we had some talks. Did some stuff. Had a safe word, just in case.”
“A friend?” Hoseok’s eyebrows were creeping up towards his hairline.
“Yes.”
“The kind you sleep with?”
“You mean actual sleeping?” Taehyung wasn’t smiling. He looked sincere. It couldn’t be true. Hoseok’s eyes darted back and forth as he considered whether or not Taehyung was being obtuse on purpose or was really as innocent as the question seemed.
“No.”
“No.” A small smile started to creep across Taehyung’s face.
“But you actually slept with him. Like sleeping.” Hoseok’s chin dipped down as he stared at Taehyung, trying to read his monosyllabic responses.
“No.”
“Then why would you--”
“Needed to break the tension, hyung.” The smile wasn’t hiding anymore. It was just there, comforting and warming parts of Hoseok’s heart he thought were off limits.
“Good call.”
“Thanks.”
“You should tell me about your friend,” Hoseok said, leaning back on the couch, trying to regain a bit of balance.
“I might.” Taehyung’s voice was almost like a song, a teasing lilt that had Hoseok leaning forward.
“There’s an unspoken if there.”
“Tell me what you need. I’ll tell you about Namjoon.”
“But Tae, we’re not… we’re just friends, right?” Hoseok tried to keep the hope from his voice. He wasn’t even really sure what he was hoping for.
“Yeah, we’re friends. If you need more, for… uh… release, that’s, that’s fine. We don’t have to--”
“No. No, I… I mean, it’s…I’ve never done it with someone that I wasn’t sleeping with, but, no. In general, it’s not, uh, necessary for you to be… I don’t need…”
“Good. That’s… I’m glad. Not that I, I mean you’re very beautiful, but... anyway, I just want to help. But what… what do you need? I don’t really have any… rope? Or anything like that.”
“That’s good. Rope chafes.”
“I think Jimin has some costume handcuffs from Halloween…”
“Colder than I like.”
“So, now what?”
Hoseok stood up and walked to the kitchen, dragging a straight backed chair back to the living room with him. Taehyung nodded, then got up and poured them each a glass of water. Hoseok sat in the chair, unbuttoning his shirt while they talked about hard limits, soft limits, new safe words, what Hoseok really wanted and needed.
“So really, I’m just here to be, like, a fail safe. You do what you need to, and I’m like the...proctor. Of a test.”
“For now, yeah?” Hoseok stood up, walked behind the chair to lean against it. “I don’t want to assume this is anything more than a one time offer, so this is a good place to start.” He walked to the couch, standing next to Taehyung’s knees without touching him.
“I can’t do this by myself. It’s not safe. And if I don’t totally freak you out and make you never want to speak to me again,” Hoseok said and Taehyung saw it. The slight tightening at the corners of Hoseok’s eyes, the little flash of dimples as he gave a tiny smile, the quick swallow and little cough to clear his throat before speaking. “Then if you want to, we can explore some variations on the theme. But this is enough for now. More than enough. Are you sure you really want to do this? You don’t have to. We can stop right now.”
“I’m sure. If I want to stop, I’ll use the safe word. Seriously though, rhinoceros would have been way better.”
“Better than pixie dust , sure.” Hoseok rolled his eyes and took a deep breath in, holding it. In just his t shirt and pants, he was as comfortable as he could get without getting naked-er than Taehyung was comfortable with. It was fine. The room was a good temperature. He’d be fine. He’d taken his belt off and shown Taehyung a simple way to turn it into essentially handcuffs. Only warmer. Softer. With just the right amount of give that lent the illusion that freedom was possible. He swallowed and let his breath out slowly. His belt was now curled innocently on top of his folded shirt on the coffee table. He stared at the black bandana that lay next to it. He’d never seen either Taehyung or Jimin wear it, but they had it tucked in a drawer and it was perfect. It would be perfect.
“You ready?” Taehyung asked, licking his lips as he stood up.
“Yes. Yes, sir.” Hoseok watched as Taehyung licked his lips again, swallowed hard and nodded. He was ready. Hoseok was more than ready. He was aching and bursting at the seams. He needed this and he’d thought there was no way to get it, but now Taehyung was here and it was going to work. It was weird, but Taehyung was weird and it was all going to be alright.
Taehyung’s hands, long-fingered and graceful, smoothed down the fabric across thighs. He clenched his hands into fists for just a second before shaking his wrists twice.
“Sit,” he said. His voice wasn’t uncertain anymore. It was firm and warm and not at all the same as the way he talked to Mickey. Hoseok felt a tiny surge of relief from a doubt he hadn’t known he was still harboring. He sat slowly, knees together, spine straight, hands in his lap. He needed this. It was going to perfect.
Taehyung’s fingers unbuckled his belt and he pulled it free of his pants slowly, eyes never leaving Hoseok’s face. Hoseok tried not to blush. Tried to keep his thoughts on just the belt. Not the pants. Not what was inside. This wasn’t that. This was just what he needed. The other thing could come later. Or not at all. It didn’t matter. What mattered was this. This test, this moment to be safe and free.
Hoseok watched as Taehyung folded the belt in half, then threaded the fold backwards through the buckle, separating the loops of leather into one open circle. Hoseok’s stomach clenched. This was it. This was the beginning. He searched Taehyung’s face for any clue that he was uncomfortable or freaked out but saw only calm features and gentle eyes. Taehyung was in control. He knew the safe word. He could stop at any time. So could Hoseok, but he’d been through this enough times to know that down to his very bones. For his first time, Taehyung was starting off very well.
“Hold out your hands,” he said, extending his hands until the belt was in front of Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok lifted his hands, his trembling hands, and Taehyung slipped the leather loop over them, holding them just for a moment before pulling gently on the tail end of the belt until it was snug. Then pulling a little more until it was tight. “Tighter?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” Taehyung pulled again, eyes, fixed on Hoseok’s wrists, pressed together inside the belt.
“Tighter?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Now, sit up straight.” Hoseok’s shoulders rolled back, spine straightening and he waited. “Knees together, Hoseok.” Hoseok clenched his thighs, scrunched his toes and he waited. Taehyung walked around the chair slowly, on hand on Hoseok’s shoulders at all times. When he was back in front, he stood still for a moment, just watching. Hoseok watched him shift his weight to his heels, settle into the stance and cross his arms. And he waited. Taehyung was so close, the fabric of his pants brushing against Hoseok’s. Taehyung reached down and ran one finger over the belt, trailing it down the tail until he grasped the end of the belt in his hand, raising Hoseok’s wrists.
“You have one minute. Begin.”
Hoseok immediately brought his wrists to his chest, tugging and twisting his wrists. Taehyung was stronger than he looked, barely flinching at all as he gave Hoseok the slack to try to break free. Hoseok did try. It wasn’t for show. He really wanted to win. But winning meant a lot of different things right now.
The rules were simple. He couldn’t move anything but his arms, and only as much as Taehyung gave him the freedom to do so with the length of the belt. It was harder than it looked, keeping his legs together and his back straight, but he liked the challenge. If he got tired, there was always his own belt that could be added around his ankles or knees. He’d broken free once, early on in this game he’d created for himself, with another lover, years ago, and since then he’d always asked for the restraints to be just a little tighter than he thought they needed to be. Just a little bit. It was harder to break out of his own belt, the one he kept at home, the one with rings that made it possible to get firm confinement with his wrists separated, but with just a regular belt it was a little easier. Hoseok almost felt nostalgic, doing this the way he had the first time.
Hoseok wanted to look up at Taehyung, to check on him, but he only had a minute. He had to work hard if he was going to--
“Stop.” Hoseok dropped his hands, let them dangle at the end of the belt clutched in Taehyung’s fist. Taehyung’s knuckles were white from the strain of keeping hold of his end of the belt, but he was capable. He was holding up his end. He reached out and stroked Hoseok’s cheek and smiled. “Very good.” Hoseok’s cheek was warm and Taehyung could feel the prickle of what would be stubble in the morning. He smiled and watched until Hoseok returned the smile. Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, he counted the seconds. One minute on, two minutes off. It was a harsh rhythm but Hoseok had set it himself, so Taehyung trusted and obeyed.
“You’re doing a great job. Don’t stop now.” He wrapped the belt around his fist, shortening the slack and pulling himself closer to Hoseok.
“Again. You have one minute. Begin.” He watched as Hoseok struggled, watched the veins in his neck and forearms, the tension in his shoulders. It was beautiful. It was fascinating. It was nothing like anything he’d ever read about. No words could contain the power and the freedom in a simple belt. His eyes flicked up to the clock. One minute was an eternity that was over too soon. “Stop.”
They repeated the process, again and again. Hoseok struggled and Taehyung watched, holding him steady, a counterbalance to the wild thrashing. It was more work than he realized, for both of them.
“Stop,” he called, watching Hoseok’s shoulders closely, looking for strain or fatigue.
Hoseok sagged, shoulders dropping and knees falling open. He knew he was starting to look a mess. He could feel the sweat on his forehead and beading up on his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it away, but that wasn’t in the rules.
His hands were still trembling, but Taehyung was there, touching him lightly as he offered encouragement.
“Water?” Taehyung asked.
“No, sir.”
“Back straight, knees together.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taehyung bent to pick up the bandana. He draped it over his shoulder, curling the belt even tighter around his fist. “Two minutes this time, but if you don’t break free, the blindfold goes on.”
“Yes, sir.” Hoseok nodded and pushed his shoulders back, feeling his spine pop. His legs were tingling, the good kind, like from a good workout, but better. No treadmill in the world made him feel like this. Safe. Free to lash out and struggle the way he wanted to under every deadline and set of judgemental eyes.
“Begin.” The stakes were higher this time and Hoseok felt it, felt the heat in his chest, the burning need to succeed. Taehyung was closer, too, nearly straddling his knees. Hoseok looked up, watched as Taehyung licked his lips and nodded encouragingly as Hoseok strained. His wrists were sweaty and he could feel them sliding. If it weren’t for the bones in his hands, he would slide right out. He could slip out and grab Taehyung’s face, his whole face, and kiss him. That was okay. That was in the rules. If he broke free he could kiss him. It was a good incentive.
He wanted to stand up, use his shoulders for leverage, or just cant his hips, push his knees against Taehyung’s, get some friction, just a little. But that was against the rules. The rules were important. The rules made this safe. The rules kept him from screaming and breaking things with the force of his frustration. He’d learned that.
“Stop.” The word was hot against Hoseok’s forehead. Taehyung had leaned in close at the end, curling the belt tighter around his fist. “Now, hold this,” he said, sliding the looped leather off of his own hand and into Hoseok’s waiting ones. Hoseok’s hands trembled and his thighs were shuddering and all of his insides felt wobbly, but Taehyung was holding his hands, pressing the belt into his trembling hands, and it was all going to be alright.
Taehyung slipped the bandana off his shoulder, winding it into a thin line. “I’m going to blindfold you, Hoseok.”
“Yes, sir.” Hoseok’s voice was a whisper, needy and thin. He deserved this. This was the consequence of not breaking free. Now he couldn’t watch Taehyung watching him. Now he had to struggle in the darkness. His heartbeat felt heavy, like the force of it was rattling his ribs, out into his arms and fingers. The cloth slipped over his eyes and he gasped. He’d been here before, knew what to expect, but it was still a shock. The sudden loss of visual input that left his mind spinning for information. He strained to hear, felt Taehyung’s breath against his temple as he tightened the bandana around his head.
“Excellent. You’re doing so well. Do you need some water?” Taehyung’s hand rested on the back of his neck, warm against the cooling sweat.
“Yes, sir.” Hoseok listened for the scrape of the water glass against the table, waited for the press of the cool glass against his lips. He swallowed greedily, leaning back into Taehyung’s hand. Too soon it was gone and the thump of the glass resting on the table seemed louder than it should.
“You have one minute. Begin.” Taehyung swallowed hard, watching the struggle, the tension, the fight in Hoseok. It was visceral and a bit frightening. It was the most amazing thing to witness--the control and the struggle. He was impressed. It was amazing.
It was perfect: the strain in his muscles, the sweat on his neck, the pressure against his wrists. It was perfect and then in one heartbeat it was too much. Hoseok was too hot. Taehyung was too much a stranger.
“Stop.” Taehyung’s hands were at his temples, sliding the blindfold down, over his nose and chin, but the light was too much after the darkness. Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut. He felt too vulnerable like this, panting and tied up in a chair in his friend’s living room. His friend. Not his lover. Not safe. Not perfect anymore.
“Hoseok,” Taehyung’s voice wasn’t sharp, but it cut through the fog in Hoseok’s brain. He was struggling, still struggling but it was real now. He really wanted out. He needed to get free, to be done. “Hoseok, look at me.” It was a direct order. He should obey. He wanted to obey, to be good, to be obedient and praised and loved, but he couldn’t focus. His eyes flew open and he looked around the room. He needed to get free. He needed to be done.
Taehyung’s hand on his chin, gentle, so so so gentle, as he raised his face until Hoseok couldn’t avoid looking into Taehyung’s eyes. He couldn’t see the color. Knew they were brown--warm and dark and smooth--but it was too dim.
“Hoseok, have you had enough?” That was it. That was the word. That’s what he needed to say to be done. To be safe. Enough. That was the word. That was it. He looked into Taehyung’s eyes and took a few shuddering breaths. Shook his head. He was alright. He was safe. He was okay. He could do this. He was good. He was safe.
“Hoseok, have you had enough?” Taehyung asked again, tipping his chin down to look at Hoseok through his long eyelashes.
Hoseok felt the word on his tongue. Enough . He was good enough. He was strong enough. He could do this. He was in control. He decided when he’d had enough. “No, sir.”
Taehyung stroked his arm, his neck, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with the bandana. “Good. You’re so strong. You’re doing amazingly well. You can do this.”
Hoseok nodded. Taehyung felt the trembling in Hoseok’s shoulders and arms. He must be tired. Taehyung was feeling the strain, a mirrored exhaustion in his own arms and shoulders, a burn in his thighs from bracing himself to contain the tempest that was Jung Hoseok. He didn’t want to push Hoseok too far, to bring him to the end of his rope and force him to tap out. Hoseok didn’t want that either. This was just an exercise, a learning period, a test.
Still, Hoseok wasn’t ready to stop. Taehyung could. He could use his safe word and be done. He was worried about hurting Hoseok. He checked Hoseok’s wrists for irritation for what felt like the hundredth time. There was a bit of pink showing where the leather had rubbed, but Hoseok didn’t flinch away from Taehyung’s stroking like he said he usually did when the skin got too raw and irritated. Taehyung weighed his options carefully. He could trust Hoseok, give him the control he wanted, or he could decide for him that this was enough. He had as much ability to end this scene as Hoseok did. He watched as Hoseok panted and tried to slow his racing heart.
Taehyung was going to trust him. “Once more then. Once more, Hoseok.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taehyung reached for the belt curled loosely on the table. “I’m going to bind your ankles now.”
“Yes, sir.” Hoseok licked his lips. Taehyung’s hands were quick and sure as they twisted the belt into another restraint. He kneeled at Hoseok’s feet and looked up with his dark eyes. He swallowed and there was just the slightest tightening of his mouth. Hoseok nodded. Taehyung tapped his fingers gently against Hoseok’s calf, guiding first one foot, then the other through the belt. He worked quickly, tightening the leather with a smooth tug. He watched Hoseok’s face intently as he did, stopping when Hoseok nodded again.
He stood, pressing his foot down on the length of leather between Hoseok’s feet. He reached slowly for the length that dangled between his knees, pulling it towards him until Hoseok’s hands were just a few centimeters away from his chest.
“You have one minute. Begin.”
It was a different struggle this time, knowing it was the last. No less intense, but less frantic. Hoseok felt for the give and the slide of his skin beneath the leather, tugging and working his wrists against each other methodically. He stared into Taehyung’s eyes and worked to control each breath, focusing on the heat from Taehyung’s hands so close to his own.
“Stop.” Taehyung unwound the belt from his hand, flexing his fingers as he straightened up. His face was calm, features smooth and peaceful despite the sweat beading at his hairline. “We’re finished. You finished it. You’re done. You did so well, Hoseok. I’m so proud of you.” He dropped to his knees and Hoseok felt relief sweep over him, like a deep breath held for just a fraction of a second too long finally released. He sucked in air and relaxed his arms and legs.
Taehyung released his wrists first, fingers ghosting across the skin as he turned them over, looking for abrasions or bruises. His hands never left Hoseok’s skin as he worked his way down to Hoseok’s ankles, checking and praising as he went. The words didn’t really matter, not to Hoseok. It was just the reassuring tone of voice, the drone of it as he floated in the after effects. He was exhausted. He was elated. His heart was still racing and he felt like he could drink a whole bathtub of water given half a chance.
He waited while Taehyung put the belts and bandana on the table. He sipped the water Taehyung offered as slowly as he could to avoid awkward stomach cramps later. He let Taehyung lift him off the chair and they stumbled together to the couch.
Hoseok dimly realized that Taehyung might be just as exhausted as he was, but the thought was gone before he could fully appreciate it. He let Taehyung hold him, pressed his sweaty forehead to Taehyung’s shoulder and focused on the soothing rumble of his voice and the slow, firm strokes of his hands across Hoseok’s back and arms. His heart stopped racing. His breathing evened out. If it weren’t for the buzzing in his head, he could just slip off to sleep. The gentle buzzing was welcome, though. It was so much better than the sharp and frantic fear that gripped him when things got out of control. He was in control again. He’d conquered it for now, tamed the tempest and now the rustle of his thoughts was just a soft buzz in the background, dulled and easily ignored when he focused on the world outside his head.
Hoseok counted the strokes up and down his arms, felt the vibrations from Taehyung’s voice under his cheek, stared at the violently orange cushions on the couch. The words Taehyung was saying slowly came into focus and Hoseok blinked.
“Wait, back up.” He didn’t want to sit up, but he tapped Taehyung’s chest gently. “I missed that. Start from the beginning.”
“Is that how this works? I thought this was your time to recover and relax. I’ve just been rambling.”
“Yeah, but you never did tell me about Namjoon.”
“I have been, for a little while now.”
“I know, but I missed it. So back up and start over.”
“Is that really what you want?” Taehyung’s fingers pressed into Hoseok’s ribs, holding him close.
“A deal’s a deal.” Hoseok felt more than heard the laugh that was Taehyung’s only response for a while.
“So, my friend Namjoon--”
“Whom you’ve never slept with,” Hoseok supplied helpfully.
“Whom I’ve never slept with, literally or euphemistically.”
“Have you ever? With anyone?”
“Sure. I sleep with Jimin all the time.” Hoseok wasn’t sure what he was pinching, but Taehyung made an appropriately satisfying grunt regardless. “Just let me tell the story.”
“Somebody better get naked somewhere in this story is all I’m saying,” Hoseok mumbled. He wanted to keep things light, keep the mood easy and gentle. They were both too tired for much more than that. Plus, he felt like he’d sweat out all his filters. One of the delightful benefits of all this was the inability to give a shit about too much for a while afterwards.
“We met in high school. Just a couple of weird kids being weird together. We got really close. Physically and emotionally. Shit, I forgot how lame this all sounds when you say it out loud.”
“It’s okay, I already knew you were lame before this.”
“Right. Well, anyway, after Namjoon graduated, we kinda drifted apart. Happens, right? No big deal. Except it was a super big deal for me. I was really broken up about it. We still kept in touch, but everything was different and I really didn’t know what to do about the whole thing. I never actually trusted that he liked me as much as I liked him, and the rejection and distance and all that-- it really messed me up. For a while.”
“When do we get to the kinky shit? You know, safe words and all that.”
“You’re horrible, you know that?”
“I do know that.”
“Right. Good. So, um, yeah, in college we kinda went our own ways. I made new friends. Enter Park Jimin and Min Yoongi. I learned to kinda forget about Namjoon and move on. Life was great. Then Namjoon graduated again and things got complicated.”
“That guy should just stay in school.”
“Seriously, he should. He did, actually. He’s got his Masters now and he teaches and whatever.”
“So you guys played kinky student and teacher games?”
“Uh, no. Not really. When he graduated, he transferred to my university for his post grad work. Started texting me more, wanted to catch up, blah blah blah.”
“And you told him to fuck right the hell off, no one treats Kim Taehyung like that?”
“Uh, no. Not really. I told him where to meet me and we started hanging out again.”
“You’re a pushover.”
“I think I’ll always have a weak spot for Namjoon. But anyway, we didn’t exactly pick up where we left off, but we did fall right back into some old patterns.”
“The kind where you remove pants?”
“Not at first. But the kind where we really talked to each other. To this day, I don’t talk to anyone the way I do to Namjoon. He just… it’s different. We get each other. We understand the ways that we don’t understand and it’s comforting. I don’t know. I saw then that a lot of what I’d felt before was some kind of hero worship and not really love. He was kind and vaguely apologetic for being young and stupid and I tried really hard to be accepting and cool with it, because what it all boiled down to was I still wanted him around. A lot. And he’s fucking beautiful and I’ve never felt about anyone the way I felt about him. Feel about him, I guess. Anyway, so, we started--”
“You never had sex with him? This high school sweetheart, love of your life, and you never did the do?”
“Stop interrupting, I’m getting there.”
“Have you even seen his dick?”
“Yes, and it’s glorious. Now shut up and let me finish.”
“This is way more emotional and not nearly as kinky as I’d hoped.”
“Do you even want to hear this story? Because I sure as shit am not telling it for my health.”
Hoseok laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. Please continue.”
“Anyway. Things were different between us. We’d both changed a lot. We needed different things. Turns out what Namjoon needed was… someone to…”
“You really need to finish that sentence.”
“I’m trying. All the simple ways of saying it are just a little wrong. He needed someone to be in control, to let him switch off his brain and stop thinking. But he also wanted to be punished--”
“Like with whips and chains?”
“No, just with words. It was always about words with Namjoon. Even from the beginning. Just words. Words I didn't think I could say out loud, names I never wanted to call him. Some that I did, but mostly it was just stuff he needed to hear. He wanted to be taken apart so he could put himself back together the way he wanted.”
“So you made with the dirty talk, but no dirty touching?”
“It wasn’t like that. At first. It wasn’t really anything, other than Namjoon trying to hint at what he needed without being able to ask for what he needed, and I snapped and yelled at him for maybe the first time in our entire lives, and I watched his face do this thing. This very familiar thing that I hadn’t seen in a while, and then we were making out, and it was complicated. We spent the better part of a semester working out how to make it work. But in the end, it was really good for us. Very theraputic. We, uh, both got to say what we needed to say, and then kiss and make up.”
“With his dick.”
“Sometimes, but not usually. Any fooling around happened before or after, not during.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?” Hoseok pushed up to look at Taehyung’s face. Taehyung smiled and pushed his fingers through the hair at the nape of Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok leaned into the touch, but didn’t look any less serious.
“It sounds like you let him get his warm and fuzzies, but what did you get out of it?”
“Same thing he did, really. Control, release, closure.”
“An orgasm?” Hoseok asked, staring directly into Taehyung’s eyes. The moment stretched and the question echoed through Taehyung’s mind. It was easier to be vague and just let everyone think he was in a perpetual dry spell but Hoseok deserved more than that. Taehyung wanted to give him more than that.
“Not usually, no.” There was a slight tightening at the corners of Hoseok’s eyes, a little flash of dimples, a quick swallow and little cough to clear his throat before speaking. Taehyung smiled and pressed Hoseok’s head back down onto his chest, holding him close while Hoseok found the words he wanted to say.
“Do you even like sex?” he asked finally.
“In theory? Yes. In practice… I don’t know. It’s a lot of work to make a mess. And I feel better with the words than I ever did with the touching. I liked getting Namjoon off. I liked the power of being able to have that effect on him, but I never really liked it the other way around.”
“Wow.” It wasn’t the response Taehyung was expecting but it was better than he’d hoped for.
“I’m not some kind of saint or whatever.”
“Saint Kink, stoic patron of blue balls.”
“Whatever.”
They were still tangled on the couch, pressed together from shoulders to knees, breathing together, heartbeats slow and steady.
“So where is The Professor now? You guys still play this game?”
“He’s in Seoul. And we still see each other around, but no. We don’t… it’s not like that anymore.”
“Your decision or his?”
“It was mutual. I brought it up. We talked about it for a long time, but we sort of just tapered off. We don’t hang out all that often, but when we do it’s not weird. It took Jimin a while to stop staring daggers at him but even Yoongi thinks he’s cool now. It’s good.”
Hoseok pulled himself up, ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Taehyung. Things weren’t too weird yet. Maybe in the morning. Maybe not. He dropped his hand to his lap and Taehyung immediately picked it up, holding it gently.
Holding hands was never supposed to turn into this, but this was where it led them.