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It was after a sufficiently awkward group dinner full of tense silences and forced small-talk that Lee Seokmin found himself involved in a meeting of his own. He sat next to his brother, Chan, in some fancy sitting room that was larger than Seokmin’s old bedroom in his father’s mansion, and that was saying something. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, and his eyes were narrowed in a glare that was aimed right at the trio that had orchestrated this whole week-long retreat. Seokmin stayed silent as his gaze wandered between the three men, and it wasn’t until Chan’s elbow dug rather painfully into his ribcage that he finally spoke up.
“Nice of you to exclude us from the plan but keep Hong in the loop,” Seokmin stated flatly, still glaring.
“That’s a bit different, and you know it,” Seungcheol replied with a frown, immediately defensive.
“Is it? Because from where I’m sitting, you threw away years of trust on a new piece of ass that piqued your interest.” Seokmin’s tone was as venomous as his words.
Jeonghan’s arm shot out just as Seungcheol moved to stand, keeping the larger man in his seat. “Throwing around insults isn’t necessary, Minnie.”
“Keeping secrets wasn’t necessary either, Hannie.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Stop with the theatrics and let us explain, would you?”
Seokmin mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but otherwise remained quiet as he looked at Jeonghan expectantly.
“This plan of ours has been brewing for much longer than either of you realize,” Jeonghan began, and he finally lowered his arm as Seungcheol relaxed next to him. “Shua has known about this part of the plan since shortly after the poker game, and that is because of what he did for us at said poker game. That is the only reason he knew about this before the two of you.”
“The only reason?” Chan asked, sounding unconvinced.
“Yes,” Seungcheol answered firmly. “You may not believe us, but leaving the two of you out of the loop, even for such a short amount of time, was not an easy decision to make.”
“It was not, but now we’re bringing you into the loop, so listen up.” Jeonghan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “We are here to create peace between the clans. True peace. And at the end of the week, when we are all comfortable with each other and grudges have been settled, we will introduce our plan to seize power from our parents, and take our rightful spots as clan leaders.”
Seokmin scoffed. “Impossible.”
“I assure you, it really isn’t. Our parents may have enjoyed going to war against each other, but none of us do.” Jeonghan laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands.
“You sound certain of that. Too certain.”
“I’m confident,” Jeonghan said, correcting Chan.
Seokmin shook his head. “It is impossible, because Jihoon will never make peace with either of us.”
“He won’t even hear us out. We’ve tried several times over the years.” Chan’s gaze fell to his lap. “Jihoon wants nothing to do with us after what happened.”
“Well, we need you to try again,” Seungcheol stated simply. “Something tells me he’ll hear you out this time.”
Jeonghan could see the doubt written all over Seokmin’s face, and he spoke before Seokmin could voice any of that negativity. “Making peace with Jihoon could take this weight off of your shoulders, Seokmin-ah. I know this isn’t the life you wanted for yourself.”
“That hardly matters now,” Seokmin replied quietly. “But I will try again, if you truly think it will make a difference this time.”
“I do,” Jeonghan said honestly.
“Then we will try again,” Chan said, sounding much more confident than his older brother. “Many things have changed since the last time we tried. Maybe Jihoon-hyung is ready to hear us out now.”
Seokmin stood from his seat, and it didn’t take long for Chan to take the hint and stand with him.
Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise. “We didn’t mean now; you don’t have to do that right now. Just sometime this week.”
“No time like the present. And if I give myself too long to think about it, I won’t do it at all.” Seokmin shrugged one shoulder and glanced over at Chan. “So wish us luck, or whatever.”
Jeonghan’s gaze followed the brothers as they headed toward the door. “Good luck, fighting.”
Chan gave a weak smile over his shoulder, then followed Seokmin out of the sitting room.
~~~
Each of the numerous, luxurious bedrooms in the mansion included similar furniture, aside from the beds and side tables that seemed unique to each room; a writing desk, a very expensive-looking leather desk chair, a large bookcase, and a leather loveseat to match the desk chair. Mingyu and Jihoon were lounging together on the loveseat, Jihoon’s head in Mingyu’s lap and his legs stretched out across the cushions as Mingyu read a book above him. They both looked to the door when there was a firm knock, and Mingyu nudged Jihoon gently. “I’ll get it,” he murmured, and he was careful as he slipped out from beneath Jihoon. He turned to replace his lap with a throw pillow, but Jihoon sat up instead. Mingyu smiled at him before he turned and headed toward the door.
Mingyu’s smile immediately fell when he opened the door to find Seokmin and Chan on the other side. “This is unexpected,” he said evenly, and he made sure to block them from Jihoon’s view with his large frame. “What are you doing here?” He hissed under his breath.
“We’re here to speak to Jihoon,” Seokmin replied, doing his best to sound confident. “We’re here to make amends.”
Mingyu’s eyebrows shot into his bangs, and his teeth sank into his lower lip. “One moment,” he said quickly before he shut the door in their faces.
Jihoon quirked an eyebrow as he watched Mingyu spin around and press his back to the closed door. “Who is it?”
“You’re not going to like the answer,” Mingyu replied.
“Who is it, Mingyu,” He demanded rather than asked this time.
“Your brothers. Both of them,” Mingyu said quietly. “They want to speak with you, to make amends.”
“No,” Jihoon replied quickly, far too quickly to have given it any real thought.
“Hyung…”
“No,” Jihoon repeated, though it sounded less sure this time.
“Jihoon-ah, you haven’t spoken to either of them in years. Not even so much as a hello.” Mingyu looked torn as he spoke his next words, because even if he truly believed them, speaking them to Jihoon felt like a special kind of betrayal. “I think it’s time you heard them out.”
Jihoon found it hard to give a name to the swirl of emotions he felt as he stared at Mingyu. “It means that much to you that I let them speak their peace?” He asked, his voice quiet.
“Yes,” Mingyu answered without hesitation.
Jihoon sighed wearily as he eyed the closed door that Mingyu was pressed against. “Let them in,” he murmured, sounding a bit defeated.
“I’m staying, the whole time,” Mingyu told Jihoon, both to assure Jihoon and to inform him that he wouldn’t grant privacy, even if Jihoon asked for it. “Anything they have to say to you can and will be said in front of me. I will never leave you alone with a member of your family again.”
Warmth spread through Jihoon’s chest at Mingyu’s protective streak making an appearance, and it thawed the icy feeling that seemed to start at the scar on his chest and seep down into his cold heart. Having Mingyu there made him feel safe, and Jihoon often took that for granted, but he wasn’t taking it for granted as Mingyu opened the door and stepped aside to reveal Seokmin and Chan. The moment his eyes landed on his younger brothers, Jihoon was certain that he wouldn’t be able to do this without Mingyu at his side.
Jihoon had of course seen both of them a handful of times over the years, but only from afar at the varied clan heir events like the poker game. He watched them linger near the door as Mingyu closed it behind them, and neither of them moved until Mingyu did. Jihoon had tensed on instinct at the sight of his brothers, but some of that tension left when Mingyu returned to his seat at Jihoon’s side, and one of his large hands landed on Jihoon’s thigh. Jihoon watched Seokmin and Chan stand awkwardly before them, and Seokmin cleared his throat to break the oppressive silence that filled the room.
“I-...well, we-” Seokmin stuttered as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. For as many times as they’d tried and failed to speak to Jihoon, and all the times he’d imagined this moment, he found himself at a loss for words now that he was here. “I’m sorry, Jihoon-hyung.”
Jihoon’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.
Seokmin seemed to garner some of his confidence, and a humorless laugh left his lips as he shook his head. “What do I have to be sorry for? I don’t know why I said that. You know, hyung, I’ve thought about this moment a lot over the years.” Seokmin felt numb as the words tumbled out of him, mostly without his permission. “I know you blamed us for what happened that night, blamed me. But what was I supposed to do to save you from him? You’ve always been the bravest of all of us.” Seokmin was trembling, his voice unsteady, but he hardly noticed. “How much detail do you remember of that night, hyung? I know you remember us being there, in the room when he tried to kill you. Why else would you blame us for not stepping in?”
Chan was staring at Seokmin, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped in shock. “Hyung, I don’t think-”
“No, Chan, he needs to hear this.” Seokmin’s gaze didn’t leave Jihoon once. “Do you remember how my left eye was swollen shut, or how my hand was bandaged? Do you remember Chan’s limp, or the way he winced with every breath from his cracked ribs?”
Jihoon sat next to Mingyu on the loveseat looking utterly stunned, and it took him a moment to attempt a reply. “I…I don’t remember that,” he said finally, his voice quiet.
“And I don’t blame you for not remembering, hyung. I never did blame you.” Seokmin’s trembling had reached his bottom lip, and he looked as if he might cry for a moment. “But it wasn’t fair for you to fill in the blanks by blaming us for what happened. So no, I don’t feel like I need to apologize to you.”
“Father thought we knew about the two of you and kept it from him,” Chan said, looking haunted as he recalled that fateful night, all those years ago. “Before…before he dragged us to his office and had you delivered to him there, he tried to make us admit it.” A shudder passed through Chan at the memory. “I thought he was going to kill us, and after…after what he did to you, I really thought he would kill us, too.”
Jihoon sat there in stunned silence, just staring up at his two younger brothers for a moment. “I…I didn’t know any of that.” Guilt rolled through him like a tidal wave as he was suddenly faced with the harsh fact that by choosing Mingyu, he had left his brothers behind to deal with their father’s wrath. “I’m sorry for blaming you,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he found himself suddenly struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with him after I left.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that part, hyung,” Seokmin replied, “though I won’t lie and say I haven’t resented you for the role I’ve had to fill in your absence.”
“I’m sorry for that, too,” Jihoon said quietly. “I know this life was never what you wanted.”
Seokmin’s gaze dropped to the floor as he shook his head. “It’s too late for me to linger on the life I wanted, but thank you. I appreciate the apology.”
“So…is this like a truce?” Chan asked after a short silence fell over the room. “Between brothers, of course. I know a truce between clans isn’t so simple.”
“If only it could be,” Mingyu said quietly.
“Yes, no more bad blood,” Jihoon replied with a nod, and his eyes moved from Chan to Seokmin.
“No more bad blood,” Seokmin repeated, and a weak smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Thank you, Jihoon-hyung. For finally letting us talk to you about that night.”
Jihoon released an unsteady breath, and his hand landed on top of Mingyu’s on his thigh, his fingers filling the spaces between Mingyu’s larger ones. “I’m glad we cleared it up. I’ve been wrong about what happened that night for a long time. Thank you both for helping me see the truth.” He smiled weakly, though it was obvious he was shaken. Jihoon was always left shaken when that night came up, whether in conversation or in his nightmares.
“Of course, hyung. We would’ve told you sooner, but-” Chan cut himself off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. Happy to be able to talk to you again, hyung. I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah, hyung. I’ve missed you, too.” Seokmin was smiling in earnest now.
Jihoon felt a lump form in his throat, and he blinked back tears as he nodded. “I missed you, too. Both of you.”
Seokmin looked over at Chan. “Well, we’ll leave you alone for the night. See you at breakfast, hyung, and Mingyu-ssi.” Seokmin bowed, and Chan followed shortly after.
“See you tomorrow, hyungs,” Chan said as he and Seokmin left, closing the door behind themselves.
Silence followed their departure, and while Jihoon's eyes remained on the closed door, Mingyu's gaze was locked on Jihoon next to him. He was visibly trembling, and Mingyu could feel it in the hand that still rested over his own atop Jihoon's thigh.
“Jihoon-ah,” Mingyu said hesitantly, his voice quiet. “Are you alright?”
“I…” Jihoon trailed off, and when he finally turned to look at Mingyu, there were tears in his eyes. “I don't know,” he answered honestly, his voice thick. He couldn't stop trembling, and the immense relief of finally finding peace with his brothers had left him reeling. He had carried that animosity with him for years now, held the tension in what felt like every muscle of his body. The release of all that tension was overwhelming, so much so that Jihoon's tears flowed down his cheeks, and a heart-wrenching sob ripped from his throat. Mingyu's arms encircled him as Jihoon buried his face into Mingyu's chest, and he didn't bother to hold back his sobs as he shook in Mingyu's strong embrace.
“It's okay, hyung. I've got you.” Mingyu continued to whisper sweet nothings and reassuring words as he stroked Jihoon's hair. At some point Jihoon crawled into Mingyu's lap, and Mingyu rocked them gently as Jihoon continued to cry, only now it was into his shoulder instead of his chest. His thin t-shirt was damp with Jihoon's tears, and the wet spots stuck to Mingyu's skin, but he ignored the uncomfortable feeling. Nothing was more important in that moment than the man in his arms. “I'm very proud of you, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon seemed to finally find some of the composure he'd lost, and he sniffled as he pulled back from Mingyu's shoulder to look at him properly. “You shouldn't be proud of me. I spent years blaming them when I knew what a monster our father was. What a monster he still is. I should have known better than to expect them to protect me from him, or to expect him to leave them alone when I was gone.” Jihoon laughed at himself, but it was bitter and humorless.
Mingyu's expression hardened, and he reached up to place a hand on either side of Jihoon's face. “No, hyung. Don't do that. Don't find a new way to blame yourself.”
Jihoon flinched, even though Mingyu had been calling him hyung as long as they'd known each other. “Don't…don't call me hyung. Just for tonight. Please?”
Mingyu's expression immediately softened again as he nodded. “Okay, Jihoon-ah.”
“Thank you.”
Mingyu nodded easily. “Now, back to what I was saying. You've spent the past few years tearing yourself up over the lost relationship with Seokmin and Chan. I won't watch you replace all of that with misplaced guilt.”
Jihoon found it difficult to look away from Mingyu, seeing as the man was still holding his face in his large hands. “But I can't stop myself from feeling it,” he whispered, heartbreakingly honest in the admission. “I feel helpless to stop it, just like I felt helpless to stop all that anger and blame from landing on them before tonight.”
“You aren't helpless, Jihoon-ah. You aren't helpless now, and you never have been. You are brave, and strong, and one of the fiercest people I know when the situation calls for it.” Mingyu moved one of his hands from Jihoon's face to place it on his chest, covering both his heart and the jagged scar right next to it. “What can I do to help you remember just how not helpless you are?”
“I don't know,” Jihoon replied, obviously frustrated as he failed to comprehend the overwhelming mixture of emotions surging through him. “I feel…I feel out of control. I hate feeling like this, Gyu-ah. I hate it.”
“I know,” Mingyu whispered, his gaze sympathetic as he stroked the soft skin of Jihoon's cheek with his thumb. “What will make you feel better, more grounded?”
“I don't know.” Jihoon sighed, his fists clenching at his sides in frustration. “I need…I need to be in control.”
“Then be in control of me,” Mingyu answered simply, his thumb still maintaining a steady rhythm as it ran along Jihoon's cheek. “I trust you, Jihoon-ah. More than I've ever trusted anyone.”
Jihoon tensed, obviously hesitant. “You don't know what you're saying,” he said, though he could hear how weak the protest was. “It isn't wise to give me control right now. I feel…off.”
“A little unhinged?” Mingyu suggested, and it was as if he'd read Jihoon's mind. Mingyu smiled as he watched Jihoon's eyes widen. “Don't worry, Jihoon-ah. I will take it all, whatever you have to give.”
“This is the last time I'm going to tell you this is a dumb idea,” Jihoon warned.
“And why is that?” Mingyu asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Because it's also a very appealing idea,” Jihoon answered honestly. “You rarely give me control.”
“All you ever had to do was ask, jagiya. I will give you anything, everything. Whatever you want.” Mingyu's tone was serious as he held Jihoon's gaze. “Now do as you wish, my love. Whatever you want from me, it's yours, if you'll have me.”
“I'll always have you,” Jihoon replied before pressing a soft kiss to Mingyu's lips. “Color system?”
“Color system,” Mingyu confirmed as his smile widened.
“And what’s your color now?” Jihoon asked as he toyed with the fingers on Mingyu's hand that was still splayed across his chest.
“Green,” Mingyu replied instantly.
“Good.” Jihoon smiled when Mingyu preened from the praise. “Now carry me to the bed, Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu was nothing if not obedient, and he took just enough time to adjust his grip on Jihoon before he stood from the loveseat with Jihoon's legs wrapped around his waist and Jihoon's arms around his neck.
~~~
It wasn't much later when Mingyu found himself lying flat on his back in the middle of the bed, his eyes trained on the ceiling as questions swirled through his mind. His attention caught when Jihoon finally emerged from the bathroom connected to their room, and as he turned his head to look over at Jihoon's gloriously naked form crossing the room toward the bed, he finally voiced one of his many questions. “Do you think all the rooms are so…well stocked?”
Jihoon smirked, and he tilted his head to the side as he reached the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?”
Mingyu's cheeks flared in embarrassment, and he turned his head in an attempt to hide his red face in his bulging bicep. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I, Mingyu-yah?” Jihoon asked as he climbed onto the bed and settled on his knees next to Mingyu. “Because I think I need you to tell me exactly what you mean by well stocked.”
Mingyu groaned into his arm, but he'd never been one to disobey Jihoon, in or outside of the bedroom. “Stocked with…you know.” He paused, still unable to force the words out for a moment. He gasped when Jihoon reached out and pinched his nipple hard, a silent warning. “Sorry, uhm.” Mingyu's face felt like it might actually be on fire now. “Stocked with bondage supplies and sex toys.”
Jihoon grinned down at Mingyu, and he released his hold on Mingyu's nipple. His grin widened when the action made Mingyu whimper, and Jihoon took a moment to really drink in the sight before him.
Mingyu's wrists were tied together with thick black rope and stretched up to the headboard, leaving his muscular arms taught and useless above his head. A spreader bar held his legs wide apart, each ankle locked into a cuff at either end of the long bar. The stretch it caused was deep enough for Mingyu to feel it in his thighs mere minutes after Jihoon locked him into place, and he knew he would be achingly sore in the morning, much like he was after leg-day at the gym. Mingyu squirmed as much as he could as Jihoon continued to just stare at him, making him feel somehow even more exposed and vulnerable than he already was, which was completely.
“Either all the rooms have the same supplies, or we were incredibly lucky in choosing this room.” Jihoon finally answered Mingyu’s question. “What’s your color, Gyu-ah? Anything too tight?”
“I'm green, everything feels fine,” Mingyu replied with a smile.
Jihoon smiled back and gently ran the back of his hand down Mingyu's cheek. “Good. Now tell me what you want tonight, Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu's brows furrowed in confusion. “Whatever you want, Jihoon-ah. Tonight is about what you want.”
Jihoon was still smiling down at Mingyu as he shook his head gently. “It's always about you when I have you like this. So what do you want?”
Mingyu cursed himself for not having an answer ready. “I…I don't know,” he finally replied, deciding honesty was his best option. “I didn't expect you to ask me that.”
Jihoon's eyes and smile were fond as he continued to stroke Mingyu's cheek gently. “That's okay. Take your time, there's no rush.”
Mingyu nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to relax and think. It was difficult to make his brain work through the nervous excitement thrumming through his very being. This wasn't their first time indulging like this in the bedroom, but it had been quite a long time since the last time, and even longer since Jihoon held the reins instead of Mingyu himself.
Mingyu stayed silent with his eyes closed for a moment, as relaxed as the position he was forced to maintain would allow. He finally opened his eyes and met Jihoon's gaze once more. “You said you felt like you were out of control.” Mingyu's hands closed into fists where they were bound together above his head. “I want…I want you to take control back by controlling me. Use me until you feel in control again, Jihoon-ah.”
Jihoon's breath caught in his throat, and his hand stilled against Mingyu's cheek. “You're sure that's what you want?”
“Yes,” Mingyu answered immediately. “That's exactly what I want.”
Jihoon's hand dropped from the side of Mingyu's face to land flat on the overheated skin of his chest. “You will use your safewords if it becomes too much.”
“I will,” Mingyu confirmed with a nod.
Jihoon nodded back, and his eyes roamed Mingyu's face before traveling slowly down his muscular bare body. “Where to start with you…” he murmured as his hand followed the path of his gaze, sliding from Mingyu's chest down to his abs.
Mingyu bit his lower lip as he forced himself to stay still, despite the incessant urge to squirm beneath Jihoon's gaze, beneath Jihoon's touch. “Please,” Mingyu murmured when Jihoon's hand stopped at the junction of his hip and his inner thigh, so close to where Mingyu wanted him.
“Begging already?” Jihoon tsk'd as his hand moved down Mingyu's thigh, surpassing Mingyu's impressive length. “So hard already, and I've barely touched you.” Jihoon smirked as his eyes met Mingyu's. “Haven't even kissed you yet.”
Mingyu whined and squirmed as much as the restraints would allow. He hadn't noticed the utter lack of kisses until Jihoon pointed it out, but he was suddenly desperate for it. “Please, please kiss me, Jihoon-ah.”
“See? Telling me what you want isn't that hard,” Jihoon mocked, his lips suddenly mere inches from Mingyu's, his breath warm as it fanned across Mingyu's face. He stayed there for a moment, long enough to be sure Mingyu wouldn't close the distance himself, then crashed their lips together in a kiss that was immediately filthy.
The kiss was as desperate as Mingyu felt, and he pulled at the ropes keeping his hands high above his head as he instinctively tried to wrap his arms around Jihoon. Mingyu's grunt of frustration was lost in their kiss, and it didn't take him long to relax and take what he was given.
“Good boy,” Jihoon purred as he pulled back. His thigh had settled between Mingyu's spread legs as they kissed, and with the way it was nestled against his straining erection, Jihoon felt it when Mingyu's cock twitched at the praise.
Mingyu whimpered, and it took all of his self control to stop himself from seeking what little friction Jihoon's bare thigh provided.
Jihoon smiled down at Mingyu before climbing off of him and reaching for the nightstand. He rolled his eyes when Mingyu whined at the loss. “Calm down, I'm not going far.” He grabbed the bottle of lube and the prostate massager he'd chosen from the surprisingly wide variety in the box of goodies beneath the bed.
Mingyu's eyes followed the toy in Jihoon's hand as the smaller man settled between his thighs. Bondage may not have been a regular part of their bedroom activities, but toys were, and Mingyu's stomach dipped in a mixture of arousal and dread; he both loved and hated prostate massagers, particularly in the hands of Jihoon.
“Nice of them to have your favorite,” Jihoon said, setting the toy aside so he could slick two of his fingers up with lube. He circled Mingyu's rim with one, and he grinned when Mingyu's cock twitched against his hip as Jihoon eased that finger inside. “Do you remember the first night we spent together? That time in the hotel?”
“I remember,” Mingyu replied, sounding breathless.
“You told me you thought I might like foreplay too much,” Jihoon mused as he started a slow pace with the one finger.
“And you called me impatient,” Mingyu said.
“Because you were. You still are, really.” Jihoon smiled. “I know you want to rush me.”
“Not my call this time,” Mingyu answered, and he craned his neck a bit to look down his own body at Jihoon.
“This time,” Jihoon repeated with a quiet laugh as he circled a second finger around Mingyu's entrance.
Mingyu whimpered at the feeling, but bit his bottom lip to stop the embarrassing whine that threatened to spill from his lips.
“I wonder how long it will take you to beg for me to touch your dick,” Jihoon said as he pulled his finger out completely, only to thrust back in with two.
Mingyu's only response was a quiet moan and a glare.
“I think it'll be soon after I get the massager in you,” Jihoon reasoned, slowly scissoring his fingers inside Mingyu. “You beg so prettily Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu moaned again at the praise, temporarily forgetting why he was even glaring at Jihoon in the first place.
“Want to know a secret?”
“Yeah, yes,” Mingyu replied, squirming against the restraints that held him.
“You're even prettier when you cry,” Jihoon whispered just before he hooked his fingers right into Mingyu's prostate.
The high-pitched moan felt like it was punched out of Mingyu's chest, and the cuffs around his ankles rattled against the spreader bar as he tried to instinctively close his legs. “Gods, Jihoon.”
“Oh baby, we're just getting started.”
An hour later, Mingyu was a crying, pleading mess as he thrashed as much as the restraints would allow. “Ji-Jihoon-” Mingyu gasped as the pleasure threatened to peak again, only to be abruptly stopped by Jihoon tightly gripping the base of his cock. “Please!” He pleaded, his voice hoarse, as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.
Jihoon looked concerned when Mingyu raised his voice, and he started to reach for the massager. “What's your color, Mingyu-yah?” He'd checked in frequently throughout the night, but he'd edged Mingyu twice more since the last time.
“Please, Ji, please-”
“Color, Mingyu. Give me your color.”
Mingyu's breath stuttered. “G-Green, but I-” His gaze found Jihoon's. “I can't take anymore edging, hyung.”
“Jihoon.” Jihoon snapped back.
Mingyu's eyes widened, and his bottom lip trembled. “J-Jihoon,” he repeated quietly, “I'm sorry.”
Jihoon's own eyes widened, and he quickly switched the massager off. “No, I'm sorry, Mingyu-yah.” Jihoon moved up the bed so he could place a hand on Mingyu's cheek. “I shouldn't have used that tone, not with you.” Jihoon leaned in and kissed Mingyu's other cheek. “I'm not angry with you, love,” he said before placing a chaste kiss on Mingyu's lips. “Do you want to keep going, jagi?”
Mingyu took a deep breath and nodded. “I want to keep going, but no more edging. Almost got to yellow on the last one.”
“Okay. Do you want me to untie you?”
Mingyu shook his head quickly. “No, no. I like it, want you to fuck me like this.”
Jihoon groaned as if he were in pain. “Gods, Mingyu-yah,” he murmured, and he took a moment to just stare at the man beneath him. “Okay, baby, I'll fuck you like this.” Jihoon wasted no time in returning to his spot between Mingyu's legs.
Mingyu whined and squirmed when Jihoon eased the toy out of him, and his cock dribbled more precome into the puddle that had formed beneath the head and was threatening to spill over the side of Mingyu's hip.
“Shh, I've got you.” Jihoon set the toy aside and reached for the bottle of lube. His gaze was hungry as his eyes roamed the body on display before him. His wandering gaze caught on Mingyu's achingly hard cock and the precome threatening to spill onto the sheets. “You're messy, Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu did his best to wiggle his hips, but the position the spreader bar forced allowed for little movement in his lower half. He truly did feel like he was at Jihoon's mercy, and he let himself bask in the feeling while he watched Jihoon slick himself up.
Jihoon's eyes hadn't strayed, and when he scooted forward on his knees, he leaned in to lick the precome from Mingyu's heated skin.
Mingyu jolted at the unexpected move, then moaned as Jihoon's breath hit his dick. “Fuck, Jihoon.”
Jihoon gently pushed Mingyu's cock aside to lick up all of the precome, which earned another moan from Mingyu. He sat back on his knees once he was finished, and he licked his lips as his eyes locked with Mingyu's. “You taste good, Mingyu-yah.”
“Please, Jihoon, please,” Mingyu begged, even as Jihoon lined himself up and rubbed the blunt head of his dick against Mingyu's rim.
“I've got you,” Jihoon murmured, then pushed until he bottomed out in one quick, powerful thrust.
“Oh, fuck-” Mingyu gasped when Jihoon bottomed out and stayed there, his arms flexing as he struggled against the rope around his wrists. “S-So full.”
Jihoon's heated gaze traveled from Mingyu's face to his wrists. “Sure you don't want me to untie you?” The strain in Jihoon's voice was the only tell that he was as affected as Mingyu.
Mingyu's eyes were closed, and he shook his head rapidly. “I'm sure, just move. Please.”
“Look at me, Mingyu-yah.” Jihoon was smiling, and when Mingyu opened his eyes, Jihoon pulled nearly all the way out only to slam back in with force. The punched-out moan that Mingyu released at the action was loud, and Jihoon muffled the next one with a messy kiss as he set a fast, brutal pace.
“Ah-” Mingyu gasped against Jihoon's lips, and he was back to tugging at the ropes around his wrists as he tried yet again to wrap his arms around Jihoon's smaller frame.
“Just take it, baby, I've got you.” Jihoon's lips brushed against Mingyu's as he spoke, and he didn't give the man beneath him time to reply before he was initiating another filthy, heated kiss.
Mingyu's moans were seemingly unending, even muffled as they were by Jihoon's mouth, as Jihoon rammed into his sensitive prostate with every thrust. Mingyu broke the kiss with some difficulty by turning his head to the side, and he panted for a moment before he found his words. “Please, please touch me Jihoon-ah!”
Jihoon's hand closed around Mingyu's length before he finished speaking, and he kept up with the brutal pace of his hips as tears of pleasure rolled down Mingyu's flushed cheeks. “Too much?”
Mingyu moaned loudly and shook his head. “J-Just enough,” he managed to say as his eyes rolled back, then fluttered closed. He moaned again, loud and wanton, as he tried to meet Jihoon's pace with what little leverage he had.
“So perfect for me, Gyu-ah,” Jihoon said breathlessly, his pace never faltering. “So beautiful for me.”
Mingyu moaned even louder at the praise, and his walls clenched around Jihoon as he felt himself barreling toward his orgasm. “C-Close, Jihoon, so close, please-”
Jihoon groaned when Mingyu clenched impossibly tighter around him, his hips stuttering as his thrusts became sloppy. “Cum for me. Cum with me, Mingyu-yah.”
Mingyu came as if on command with Jihoon's name on his lips, his cum splattering across his abdomen, and he felt the warmth of Jihoon's release as he came inside him. Mingyu closed his eyes, and he wore a sated smile as he struggled to catch his breath.
Jihoon took only a moment to steady his breathing before he reached up to quickly unbind Mingyu's hands. The rope remained tied to the headboard as Jihoon slipped Mingyu's wrists free, and he massaged the raw skin there gently. His massage moved down Mingyu's arms slowly, and when he finished he carefully lowered each arm to rest at Mingyu's side.
Mingyu's arms were still tingling where they rested at his sides when Jihoon moved down the bed to release his ankles from the spreader bar. “Love you, Jihoon-ah,” he murmured softly, his voice scratchy and hoarse in a way that made him wince when he heard it.
“Love you too, Mingyu-yah,” Jihoon replied, and his smile was fond as he set the spreader bar aside. “Feeling okay? I wasn't too rough on you, was I?”
“Everything was perfect, love,” Mingyu said with a smile. The tingling in his arms had finally stopped, and he reached out to make grabby hands at Jihoon. “Come here.”
“We need to clean up and get lotion on your wrists,” Jihoon protested, but he was already crawling up the bed, and when he was close enough Mingyu dragged him into a tight embrace. A quiet ‘oof’ left his lips when his face landed on Mingyu's bare chest, but he immediately relaxed in the larger man's hold.
“It can wait, just for a little while,” Mingyu replied in a whisper as he ran his fingers through Jihoon's sweat-damp hair gently.
Jihoon sighed, and what little tension remained in his body left with his breath. “Yeah, I think it can wait,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes.