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As always, no matter what he's doing, Shotaro picks up before the fourth ring. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Sungchan says. “I just got my schedule for the week, and I don't have any vocal lessons.”
Shotaro hums noncommittally. “Okay. Now say what you really mean.”
Sungchan holds his phone closer to his ear, looking around nervously. The SM building is never really empty. “I was thinking we could do some training tonight.”
“What, like dance practice?”
“Hyung. You know.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He doesn't even try not to sound smug. “Your place or mine?”
It’s a rhetorical question. It’s always Shotaro’s, because the bathroom in his dorm room has a person-sized shelf in the shower. Sungchan assumes it’s for propping up a leg to shave, or sitting down during a deep conditioning mask, but it works conveniently for this purpose too. (Any seat would, really, but things tend to get messy and it's nice to be ready for cleanup.)
Later that night, when Shotaro opens the door for Sungchan, he’s already showered. His wet hair hangs in his face, and a faintly floral scent wafts pleasantly from his body. Shotaro pulls him down for a gentle kiss, and then tugs on his hand.
“We should start now. I have a vocal lesson, early tomorrow.”
Sungchan lets himself be pulled to the bathroom, trying not to let his disappointment show. Of course they both knew what they were signing up for when they became trainees for one of the biggest companies in the industry, but it’s fair to say neither of them signed up to be where they are now: still getting jerked around their company, even after their hectic two years as artists. Their schedules and rigorous training have them both stretched thin, which only makes their time together more special. A selfish part of Sungchan wishes he could draw it out even longer, but he knows that once he’s kneeling in front of Shotaro, time will stop moving.
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” asks Shotaro, shedding his clothes onto the bathroom floor.
“Just water,” Sungchan says, following suit. He’d been planning to go get dinner after receiving his schedule, but that can wait till after. If his throat isn’t too sore for solid food, that is.
“Good,” Shotaro says, and just that one word makes Sungchan’s cheeks tingle. He realizes with a swoop of excitement that his collar is lying on the sink, deep red and studded with spikes, with his name engraved onto a gold bone-shaped tag. Even better: the leash is attached to it. He stands perfectly still while Shotaro leans up to clasp it around his neck. By the time it’s snug around his throat, Sungchan is already half-hard, but both he and Shotaro ignore this, knowing that he has to make it through the training session to get his reward.
Shotaro takes Sungchan’s face in his hands and plants another short, light kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Sungchan breathes, letting Shotaro lead him into the shower. Shotaro takes a seat, and Sungchan kneels between his legs. The position is familiar for the both of them. Sungchan’s hands almost come up to rest on Shotaro’s thighs, but he remembers quickly that he’s not allowed to touch. This isn’t a regular blowjob. There are rules that come with training.
Like this one: Shotaro says, “show me how you say enough.” Sungchan taps the top of his thigh three times, firmly.
Shotaro ruffles his hair. Wordless approval. “Open up.”
Sungchan shuffles forwards and opens his mouth eagerly, allowing Shotaro to feed his soft cock inside. That’s all the touching he does. Afterwards, he just leans back on his palms and watches. Sungchan closes his eyes, still a little too shy for Shotaro’s intense gaze. He loves this part. Having Shotaro soft on his tongue. It’s a comfortable weight, filling his mouth without stretching his jaw, and he’s so freshly showered that he tastes like nothing yet.
Sungchan keeps his tongue still, drool pooling in his cheeks. He can already feel the familiar buzz at the back of his head, but he tries not to slip under just yet. As lovely as it is to drift lazily in subspace, he wants to be present for this. He wants to relish it, make it last. Still, it doesn’t take long before the cock on his tongue starts to swell, twitching to life. Sungchan takes pride in knowing that even his loose, unmoving mouth is enough to get Shotaro going.
Shotaro stays still too, letting himself harden up steadily. Sungchan reflexively swallows when his mouth gets too full of spit, and it makes Shotaro groan loudly. Sungchan wants to hear him again, so he does it repeatedly, jerkily. He squeezes Shotaro’s cock between the roof of his mouth and his flattened tongue, and hums with happiness when he feels him getting harder.
“Show-off,” Shotaro teases, tugging lightly at the leash. “I know you're good with your tongue, puppy. That’s not what I’m training you for. This is about teaching your throat how to take cock as well as your mouth can. Now, relax it for me.”
Sungchan does as he’s told, loosening the muscles in his throat. Shotaro tugs his leash again, harder this time. Sungchan allows his head to be pulled forward until he’s all the way down, nose pressed to Shotaro’s pelvis. His senses are flooded with the feel of him, the smell of him, the warmth emanating from his skin. The tip of his cock shyly brushes the back of Sungchan’s throat, reaching full hardness.
Sungchan’s been fully hard for a while, he thinks. He’s barely thought about his own dick this whole time, but now that he’s paying attention he can feel how stiff it is, aching like it only does when he’s needy and neglected. But Shotaro doesn’t like it when he gets distracted, and he’s so floaty now that he can’t concentrate on more than one thing, so he quickly redirects his focus. Shotaro is dipping into his throat in tiny little movements that can barely be called thrusts. To Sungchan’s delight, he’s having no difficulty taking it yet. It feels as natural as anything, being filled like this.
His prowess doesn’t go unnoticed; Shotaro cups his face with his free hand and coos sweetly at him. He thumbs over Sungchan’s cheek to feel the curve of its hollow. “Look at that. Good boy. Can my puppy take a little more?”
Sungchan nods excitedly, making Shotaro’s cock slip out of his mouth a little. His leash gets pulled tighter, back down all the way, and the hand on his cheek delivers a small slap. “I wasn’t asking you— I know you can take it. And good dogs don’t answer back.”
A whine escapes Sungchan, and this earns him another slap. He really tries, but he can’t help being so excitable. Especially when Shotaro talks to him like that: just a little bit too mean to be simply corrective. Sungchan doesn’t know which one of them derives more pleasure from it, but he’s pretty sure it’s him.
Shotaro grips his chin, his fingers digging hard into one cheek and his thumb in the other. It’s forceful enough to be thrilling, but not to leave marks. He knows not to bruise where the stylists can’t hide it. He says, “behave, pup. I don’t want to punish you tonight, and you don't want to be punished, do you?”
He uses his hand to make Sungchan’s head nod up and down obediently. “I thought so,” Shotaro says, sweetly mocking. “Let’s try again.”
Sungchan’s mouth drops open immediately, and Shotaro slides all the way back in. He’s prodding at the back of Sungchan’s throat more insistently now, and Sungchan holds as still as he can, trying not to make even the tiniest sound. Of course, he can’t help the noises that Shotaro is making him make: the guttural gulping sounds with every thrust into his throat, or the heavy breaths that puff through his nose. The wet, muffled sounds echo loudly in the bathroom, and every movement pushes more drool past Sungchan’s stretched lips. It’s dripping down his chin, down to his chest. Every now and then a droplet lands on his cock, and even that barely-there stimulation is torture. He’s determined to ignore the throbbing ache between his legs, no matter how distracting it is.
Sungchan tilts his head back ever so slightly, and it lodges Shotaro’s tip even further inside him. Shotaro hisses through his teeth and angles his hips down, fucking into Sungchan’s throat without even pulling out. Up until now, Sungchan’s taken it all without much fuss, but he feels his body start to resist. His eyes are blurring with reflexive tears and as a result his nose is getting stuffy, making it harder to breathe with his mouth full. He tries to draw a deep breath but just ends up spluttering helplessly, and even though he hates to do it, he automatically reaches out to tap Shotaro’s thigh.
But Shotaro doesn’t acknowledge it, eyes screwed shut and solely focused on his own pleasure. Sungchan taps again, harder, frantic, but if anything it just makes Shotaro speed up. Sungchan whines, his heartbeat increasing, his dick throbbing. He tries to pull off, but Shotaro’s too quick for him: he wraps the leash around his knuckles, making it as taut as possible and forcing Sungchan to stay in place and gag on his cock. Sungchan’s openly wailing now, pathetic gurgling sounds, and it seems to rile up Shotaro more and more. He only drops the leash and lets Sungchan go when his throat convulses in warning.
Sungchan pulls back with a harsh gasp, choking on the air that suddenly floods into his tight lungs. He tries to stop his throat from spasming, but it’s no use. With a desperate retching sound, he spits up a flood of frothy saliva and water. It splashes on the shower floor and douses his body, and it should be disgusting but really it’s just warm and wet and it makes his dick stand up valiantly. Humiliation washes over him too, making his eyes sting.
“Oh, honey,” Shotaro murmurs. His tone is so perfectly condescending. Almost pitying. It makes Sungchan’s stomach swoop with arousal, but also with panic.
“Tapped, hyung, I tapped,” he gasps out through wet coughs, working himself up even more. “I couldn’t take it, I t-tried, I—”
“I know, puppy,” Shotaro murmurs, petting his cheek. “I know you did. Hyung was just a little greedy. Your throat felt too good… oh, baby, don’t cry. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, yeah?”
“Made a mess,” Sungchan hiccups, tears and snot flowing freely. “Didn’t w-wanna, I’m sorry, I’m…”
“Shh, shh. It’s okay,” Shotaro says insistently, cupping his face in both hands and tilting it so he can gaze into Sungchan’s glistening eyes. “That’s how you get good at it, right? Gotta gag on it a few times before your throat gets used to it.”
Sungchan sniffles, staring up with big, dubious eyes. This is new. Shotaro’s never pushed Sungchan past his limits or caused him to fail on purpose before. But now that Sungchan knows he isn’t in trouble for it, the panic has faded into something else. It lights up something in Sungchan that he didn’t quite know was there. His throat is burning and his head is spinning, but the feeling of violation is only stoking his arousal. He suddenly wants Shotaro to do it again and again, until Sungchan’s throat is forcibly broken in and he can take whatever he’s given.
“Do you want to stop?”
Shotaro doesn’t sound overly worried, nor does he sound like he’d be disappointed if Sungchan said yes. His face is perfectly neutral, looking down at Sungchan and waiting for his answer. He’s a magnanimous god, giving him free will, even though Sungchan wouldn’t mind a bit if he were to take it away. He could never deny Shotaro a thing.
“No,” Sungchan rasps. He opens his mouth again, maintaining eye contact, and lets his tongue loll out. A silent invitation. Shotaro smiles, his eyes crinkling, and picks the end of the leash back up. He guides Sungchan down onto his cock again, slowly, until it hits the back of his throat. Sungchan is ready for it this time and he doesn’t gag, but it’s sore and it makes his eyes water all over again.
Shotaro cups the back of his neck, starts to fuck his throat in earnest. He’s learned to roll his hips instead of thrusting sharply, allowing him to rut into the tight pressure while being easier on Sungchan’s gag reflex. He grunts, “fuck, taking it so well”, and he sounds so unlike himself, so rough and raw. Sungchan loves handing over control to Shotaro, and he loves how it allows Shotaro to loosen some of his own self-control. Here, warm and deep inside his lover, Shotaro can be selfish.
It’s this that finally pushes Sungchan under: the need to let Shotaro take as much as he wants from him. The need to give Shotaro all of himself. His scalp tingles all over, a familiar feeling that makes his eyes roll back in his head. His jaw goes slack, and so does his throat. Shotaro immediately feels it, swearing loudly and grabbing the back of Sungchan’s collar.
“Yes, fuck, just like that,” Shotaro pants, holding nothing back as he fucks Sungchan’s face. The muscles of Sungchan’s throat are already engorged, he can feel it. He can’t even control them enough to whimper in response. It must feel good for Shotaro to grind into, though, all lax and swollen. He sighs, “love feeling you let go for me, puppy.”
I love letting go for you, Sungchan wants to say. I love it when my head goes all light and airy and I don’t have to think because I know you’ve got me. And how my body feels the opposite, heavy and solid and secure. I love trusting you with my body, every part of it, because I already trust you with my heart, and this is one of my favorite ways to show it.
But all he can really do is look up through his tear-clumped lashes and meet Shotaro’s eyes with his own, hoping they’ll convey the message for him. Shotaro’s pupils are blown, his cheeks flushed. Sungchan’s gaze riles him up even more, making him shudder.
“I’m close,” Shotaro says, his voice uneven. “Ready, pup?”
Sungchan’s eyes flutter closed again as he concentrates on keeping his throat relaxed. During their past training sessions, Sungchan’s always tapped out too early to have Shotaro come in his mouth, and now he wants it so badly. He needs to prove he can be a good boy all the way to the end.
Shotaro doesn’t warn him again before he comes, but he doesn’t need to. Sungchan knows his tells. The way his perfectly-controlled hip movements start getting shaky, and the rambling praise spilling from his mouth, and the final signal: the hitchy little gasps he starts to make. Sungchan’s mouth waters automatically at the sound. Shotaro tugs hard on the leash, burying himself as far as he can go, and finally his cock starts spilling. Sungchan is so lost in subspace he can’t even make himself swallow, but he doesn’t have to; Shotaro’s so deep in him that his load just slides easily down Sungchan’s throat, warming his belly. Everything sounds like he’s underwater, but Sungchan can make out the repeated groans of good boy and sweet puppy and love you, love you, love you. He wishes he really had a tail, so he could express to Shotaro how much he loves him too. How much he loves this. The self-satisfaction of succeeding at a training session is almost better than the verbal validation (but not quite).
Shotaro drops the leash and runs his hands through Sungchan’s hair, murmuring something. It must be a question (his voice rises at the end) but Sungchan doesn’t really hear it, too preoccupied with the feeling of Shotaro’s cock twitching back to softness on his tongue. Then Shotaro starts to pull out, pull away, and Sungchan hears his own loud, panicked whine echoing off the shower walls.
“Alright, alright. Not yet,” Shotaro relents, petting the back of Sungchan’s neck soothingly. Sungchan feels his heart fill up with love. He knows how sensitive Shotaro must be, but he knows Sungchan needs this, and he’s letting him have it. No matter how rough their play gets, Shotaro always makes sure his comedown is as gentle and comfortable as possible, which is probably why Sungchan’s never experienced subdrop. Even if he did, he trusts Shotaro entirely to take care of him exactly how he needs it.
By the time Shotaro is mostly soft again, the static in Sungchan’s mind has reduced enough for him to regain basic control of himself. When Shotaro asks again softly, “can I come hold you?”, Sungchan manages to nod. He still isn’t prepared for how awfully empty he feels when Shotaro slips out of his mouth — an emptiness that plunges down his throat, into his chest — but Shotaro doesn’t let him feel it for more than a moment. He immediately sinks down to the shower floor next to Sungchan, wrapping his body in his arms, firmly anchoring him. Sungchan curls into him like a sunflower, burying his nose in the dip of Shotaro’s collarbone and breathing deep.
“So proud of you, baby.” Shotaro kisses the words into his hair. “My good puppy. My best boy, Sungchanie, I love you so much.”
“Love you too,” Sungchan murmurs into his skin, mouthing at him mindlessly.
Shotaro hums. “How are you feeling?”
Sungchan takes mental inventory of his body and mind, just like Shotaro taught him to, and finds nothing but warm, hazy gratification. “So good,” he sighs. “I’m so happy, hyung.”
He can hear the smile in Shotaro’s voice when he responds: “good, baby. I'm glad. I didn't push you too far?”
Sungchan's head starts shaking vigorously of its own accord. “No, hyung, it was— it was perfect. I…” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, wanting to communicate his feelings properly. “I think I needed it, to really put me under. And… it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before.”
“About me pushing your limits?” Sungchan nods, and Shotaro chuckles. “Of course you did, naughty little dog. But why didn't you say anything?”
Sungchan squirms a little. “I just didn't want to … to fail, I guess. Wanted to be able to take it all myself, without you forcing me.” He frowns a tiny bit, realizing he still hasn't achieved that.
Of course, Shotaro knows him enough to intercept this train of thought. He cups Sungchan’s head and pulls him away from his chest, tilting his face upwards so Sungchan can look into his eyes, unbearably gentle and overflowing with affection.
“Baby. You know that’s not really the point of this, right?” He chucks Sungchan’s chin lightly. “I mean, of course it would be nice to have your throat fully trained, but even if you gagged on it and tapped out every single time, I wouldn't care. I definitely wouldn't think you failed, honey. Never. You’re always my perfect little pup, you know that.”
Perhaps it’s because his eyes were just tearing up from the gagging, but Sungchan feels them start to prickle again. He doesn't want to ruin this moment by being all weepy and snotty, so he kisses Shotaro instead, deep and longing. Shotaro kisses him back with hunger, almost immediately trailing his hand down Sungchan’s throat, his chest, his stomach … Sungchan should see it coming, but he still jerks wildly when Shotaro glides his palm over the tip of his dick.
“Wow,” Shotaro murmurs, pulling away his hand. His palm is sticky, gleaming in the low light. Sungchan looks down, finally allowing himself to acknowledge his dick, which hasn’t flagged in the slightest. It’s not just the tip that's wet; he’s been drooling precum all down his shaft, leaving shiny trails down the length of it. Even now, with both of them looking at it, another clear bead starts to form at his slit.
“Look at how you’re leaking,” Shotaro marvels, catching the new droplet on his fingertip. “Puppy can’t hold it in?”
Sungchan nods desperately, trying not to move. He knows if Shotaro touches him, properly touches him, he’ll come so embarrassingly quickly.
“On all fours, pup. I think you deserve your real reward now.”
In his hurry to obey, Sungchan almost slips in his own cooling spit-up, and it’s a testament to how horny he is that even that doesn’t deter him. He holds himself up on his hands and knees, waiting eagerly. When he feels Shotaro’s tongue lick flat and firm over his asshole, he collapses to his elbows. As Shotaro eats him out lazily, he hears the sound of a cap popping — the bottle of scented oil Shotaro keeps in the shower — and he clenches in anticipation.
“Relax, baby,” Shotaro says, rubbing his lower back. Sungchan takes a few deep, dizzying breaths, and when Shotaro deems him relaxed enough, he starts the process of opening him up. Every touch feels like fire to Sungchan's overeager, sensitive body. His dick is so heavy, dangling between his legs, and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat in it. Shotaro knows his body well enough not to tease; he avoids Sungchan’s prostate until he’s nice and loosened up, and then he slips three fingers in and presses directly onto the swollen gland.
Sungchan grunts out a string of nonsense syllables, his cheek pressed to the cold tile. Pulsing waves of pleasure roll over him with every measured prod of Shotaro’s fingers. He loves laying back and accepting a well-earned reward, letting Shotaro work his magic and lift him steadily to his peak. When he’s this worked up, and when Shotaro is massaging his most sensitive spot like this, it never takes him very long. His tiny sounds of pleasure quickly escalate into gasping sobs, and he whites out a little when he comes untouched, squirting out his pent-up release beneath him.
“Ah, look at that. You’re coming just from my fingers? What a well-trained puppy…”
Shotaro steadily milks his prostate all throughout, until Sungchan's dick is drooling instead of spurting and his legs are too shaky to hold him up. “Shotaro, h-hyung,” he whimpers when it becomes too overwhelming. Although he’s unable to say anything but his lover’s name, Shotaro picks up on the desperation in his voice and slows his fingers to a stop.
“Okay, baby, okay. I got you.”
Now, it’s Sungchan’s favorite part of all of it: he gets to drift pleasantly in and out of consciousness, knowing that Shotaro will take care of him. He’s faintly aware of warm water on his skin, and soapy hands all over his body, and Shotaro’s honeyed voice cooing at him and talking to him and humming melodically. Then he blinks and he’s in bed, hair damp and being spooned.
Sungchan inhales deeply, starting to align his breathing with Shotaro’s. He can tell by the deep, even puffs of breath on the back of his neck that Shotaro’s already asleep, and even though his own eyes are sliding shut, he tries his hardest to engrave this moment deep in his memory. He wants to remember this when things get hard. When he’s between dorms and practice rooms and airport lounges and hotel rooms, when he feels out of place wherever he goes, he wants to remember where home really is: wrapped up in Shotaro’s arms, like something small and precious. His heart cracked open, love seeping through, and Shotaro cradling it gently in his hands, never letting it break.