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the club pulsed with a deep, thrumming bass that vibrated through the floor and into jiyong’s bones. he was perched on a barstool, one leg crossed over the other, a tiny cocktail glass balanced between his delicate fingers. the strobe lights caught the gloss on his lips, the shimmer on his cheekbones, the way his oversized black mesh top hung off one pale shoulder.
and he knew seunghyun was watching him.
from across the vip booth, through the haze of cigarette smoke and laser lights, jiyong could feel those dark eyes boring into the back of his skull. seunghyun sat like a monument of barely contained fury, broad shoulders straining the seams of his leather jacket, thick thighs spread wide, a glass of wine untouched in his massive hand. he hadn’t spoken in thirty minutes. he hadn’t moved. he just stared.
and jiyong smiled into his drink.
perfect, he thought.
he set the glass down with a soft clink and slid off the stool, his bare feet padding across the sticky floor. he’d worn nothing but that mesh top and a pair of impossibly tight white shorts that rode up his ass, every inch of his small, slender body on display, he looked like a porcelain doll with his curves and innocent gaze.
he weaved through the crowd, brushing past sweaty bodies, until he reached the group of boys gathered by the dj booth. there was one in particular he’d spotted earlier, a tall, lanky guy with dyed blonde hair, a sharp jawline, and a crooked grin. maybe in his twenties, or maybe in his thirties. old enough to drink, or young enough to be stupid.
jiyong sidled up to him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
“hey,” he said, his voice breathy and sweet. “you’re cute.”
the blonde turned, surprise flickering across his face before it settled into a cocky smirk. “yeah? and who’s this little thing?”
“jiyong.” he tilted his head, letting his lips curve into a shy smile. “what’s your name?”
“hyunsoo.” the guy’s eyes roamed down jiyong’s body, lingering on the curve of his hip, the bare skin of his thighs. “you’re here alone?”
“sort of.” jiyong laughed, a light, tinkling sound. “my… friend is over there. but he’s not really paying attention to me tonight.”
he flicked his gaze toward the vip booth, just briefly. hyunsoo followed it, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw seunghyun, the way he sat like a predator in the shadows, the sheer bulk of him, the dangerous stillness.
“that guy?” hyunsoo’s voice dropped. “he looks like he’ll rip my head off if i touch you.”
“he won’t.” jiyong leaned in, placing a small hand on hyunsoo’s chest. the fabric of his shirt was warm. “he doesn’t own me.” jiyong lied.
jiyong let his fingers trail down hyunsoo’s chest, over his stomach, resting on his belt. he looked up through his lashes. “dance with me?”
hyunsoo hesitated, glancing once more toward seunghyun. but the promise of this tiny, gorgeous creature in his arms was too much. he nodded.
and jiyong led him onto the dance floor.
the music was loud, the bass a physical force. jiyong pressed his back against hyunsoo’s front, grinding his small ass against the guy’s crotch with practiced ease. he threw his head back, letting the blonde’s hands slide down his waist, over his stomach, settling on his hips.
he laughed, loud, carefree, the sound cutting through the noise. he turned around, wrapped his arms around hyunsoo’s neck, and pulled their bodies flush. his mouth brushed the guy’s ear.
“harder,” he whispered. “he’s watching.”
hyunsoo’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into jiyong’s flesh. they moved together, grinding, swaying, a public display of intimacy that sent a thrill straight through jiyong’s core. he let his head fall back, exposing the long line of his throat, and he moaned, soft, breathy, just loud enough to carry.
he knew seunghyun could hear it.
he knew because a moment later, he felt the shift in the air. the temperature dropped. the shadows seemed to deepen. and then a massive hand clamped down on hyunsoo’s shoulder, yanking him away so hard the blonde stumbled backward, nearly falling.
seunghyun stood there, filling jiyong’s entire field of vision. his face was a mask of cold violence, his eyes burned. his jaw was tight, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
“get lost,” he growled at hyunsoo, his voice low and dangerous.
hyunsoo didn’t argue. he scrambled away, disappearing into the crowd.
jiyong looked up at seunghyun, his lips parting in mock innocence. “seunghyun-ah, i was just having fun-”
“shut up.”
the words hit like a slap. seunghyun grabbed jiyong’s wrist, his fingers completely encircling the thin bone and dragged him off the dance floor. through the crowd, past the bar, down a dim hallway. jiyong stumbled to keep up, his heart pounding with a heady mix of fear and anticipation.
seunghyun shoved open a door, private room, dark, a small couch and a table. He pulled jiyong inside, slammed the door shut, and locked it.
then he pressed jiyong against the wall, his body a wall of heat and muscle, his forearm braced beside jiyong’s head.
seunghyun’s mouth inches from jiyong’s, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
jiyong smiled, slow and satisfied. “making you jealous.”
“you little shit,” seunghyun’s hand shot up, gripping jiyong’s throat, not hard enough to choke but firm enough to make a point. “you think this is a game?”
“everything’s a game with you.” jiyong’s voice came out breathy, strained. “you only touch me better when you’re angry.”
seunghyun’s eyes darkened. his thumb traced up jiyong’s jaw, over his lips, pressing inside. jiyong’s mouth opened automatically, sucking on the thick digit, his tongue swirling around the calloused skin.
“you want me to touch you?” seunghyun’s voice dropped to a guttural whisper. “you want me to fuck that bratty attitude out of you?”
jiyong moaned around his thumb, his eyes fluttering closed. he nodded as best he could.
seunghyun pulled his thumb out with a wet pop. he grabbed jiyong’s mesh shirt and tore it down the middle, the fabric ripping easily, exposing his pale chest, his small pink nipples pebbled from the cold air. he threw the scraps aside.
“turn around.” seunghyun demanded.
jiyong obeyed, pressing his palms against the wall. his shorts were still on, clinging to his ass like a second skin. seunghyun’s hand came down hard across one cheek, a sharp slap that echoed in the room. jiyong gasped, his cock twitching in his shorts.
“you like that?” seunghyun growled, squeezing the reddened flesh.
“yes!” jiyong whimpered.
another slap, harder. then seunghyun’s fingers hooked into the waistband of the shorts and yanked them down, baring jiyong’s ass completely. he knelt behind him, his breath hot against the sensitive skin.
“you think you can flirt with other boys and get away with it?” he bit down on jiyong’s left cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. “you think i won’t remind you who you belong to?”
“i know who i belong to,” jiyong breathed. “i just wanted you to show me.”
seunghyun stood, unbuckling his belt with rough, angry motions. the clink of metal, the rasp of zipper. jiyong’s mouth went dry.
“get on the couch. on your knees. face down.”
jiyong scrambled to obey, crawling onto the worn leather, positioning himself with his ass raised and his face pressed into the cushion. he heard the rustle of seunghyun’s jeans dropping, the sound of a condom wrapper tearing. then the blunt head of seunghyun’s cock pressed against his entrance.
no warning or preparation, seunghyun pushed in with one brutal thrust.
jiyong screamed, a sharp, broken sound that dissolved into a sob. he was so small, so tight, and seunghyun’s cock was large, stretching him beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
“fuck,” seunghyun growled, his hips flush against jiyong’s ass. “so fucking tight. this little cunt was made for me.”
he didn’t wait. he pulled out almost completely and slammed back in, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm. each thrust drove jiyong forward, grinding his face into the leather, his small hands clawing at the cushions.
jiyong’s own cock, hard and leaking, dragged against the fabric with every movement. the friction was maddening. his moans were incoherent, a stream of “please” and “harder” broken by sharp cries.
seunghyun’s hand found his hair, yanking his head back. “look at me.”
jiyong twisted his neck, meeting those dark, furious eyes. sweat dripped down seunghyun’s brow, his muscles bulging, his face a mask of raw, possessive pleasure.
“whose little slut are you?”
“yours,” jiyong gasped. “yours, s-seunghyun, only yours!”
“that’s right.” he released jiyong’s hair and slapped his ass again, the sound ringing out. “now take it. take every fucking inch.”
and he pounded into him, faster, deeper, relentless. the room filled with the wet sound of fucking, the slap of skin, jiyong’s high-pitched whines and seunghyun’s guttural grunts. minutes stretched into what felt like hours. seunghyun shifted angles, hitting that spot inside jiyong that made his vision go white, and kept going, kept driving into him, refusing to let him come.
“not yet,” he snarled when jiyong started to tighten, his balls drawing up. “you don’t get to come until i say so.”
He flipped jiyong onto his back, pulling out and then pushing back in, their bodies flush. he hooked jiyong’s legs over his shoulders, folding the smaller boy in half, and drilled into him from above. jiyong’s arms flailed, his nails raking down seunghyun’s back.
“please, please, please,” jiyong sobbed, tears streaming down his temples. “i can’t- i need-”
seunghyun leaned down, his mouth brushing jiyong’s ear. “you made me watch you with that boy for an hour. you’re going to take my cock for twice that long. count.”
“w-what?”
“count the minutes. out loud.”
jiyong’s mind went blank, but seunghyun’s thrusts didn’t stop, each one punching the air from his lungs. he tried to count, his voice broken. “one… two… three…” on “four,” seunghyun slapped his chest. on “seven,” he bit jiyong’s shoulder. on “eleven,” he slowed to a torturous pace, grinding deep.
“keep counting,” he ordered.
“twelve…” jiyong’s voice cracked. “thirteen… fourteen…”
he lost count somewhere around thirty. but seunghyun didn’t stop. he fucked him through his haze, tears, and his pleas. he turned jiyong onto his stomach again, onto his side, bent him over the armrest of the couch. by the time he finally let jiyong come, the smaller boy was a wreck, sweat-soaked, trembling, covered in bite marks and handprints.
seunghyun wrapped his hand around jiyong’s weeping cock, his grip like iron, and stroked him in time with his thrusts. “come for me,” he growled. “now.”
jiyong shattered, a scream tearing from his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, hot and violent, splattering across the leather. his body convulsed, clamping down on seunghyun’s cock, seunghyun buried himself deep, his own release flooding the condom with a grunt, his hips jerking erratically.
for a long moment, they stayed there, tangled together, breathing harsh and ragged. seunghyun pulled out slowly, discarding the condom, then collapsed onto the couch beside jiyong.
jiyong curled into his side, his small body dwarfed by seunghyun’s bulk. he pressed a kiss to his chest, over his heart.
“did i get what i wanted?” seunghyun asked, his voice still rough, but softer now.
jiyong smiled, tired and sated. “yes.”
“good.” seunghyun’s arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer. “because next time, i’ll make you wait until dawn.”
jiyong laughed weakly, snuggling into the warmth. “promise?”
seunghyun didn’t answer. he just kissed the top of jiyong’s head, his hand tracing lazy patterns on jiyong’s back. for a man so rude, so old, and so harsh, his touch could be impossibly gentle after the storm.
and jiyong knew he’d deliberately provoke him again. soon. because the reconciliation was almost as good as the punishment.
they stayed tangled on the leather couch for a long while, the only sounds their slowing breaths and the distant thrum of the club’s bass through the walls. jiyong’s body was a map of marks red handprints on his ass, bite marks on his shoulder, the tender ring of fingers around his throat. he felt used, claimed, owned in the best possible way.
but his mind was already spinning the next thread.
he shifted, wincing as his abused hole protested the movement. seunghyun’s arm tightened around him, a reflexive gesture of possession.
“stay still.” the older man grumbled, his voice a low rumble against jiyong’s hair.
“i’m thirsty,” jiyong murmured, his tone deliberately soft, pliant. “can we get water? and… i want to go back out.”
seunghyun’s body went rigid. his hand stopped its lazy tracing on jiyong’s spine.
“out?”
“just for a minute.” jiyong tilted his head up, letting his big, innocent eyes meet seunghyun’s dark gaze. “i want to see if hyunsoo is still there. he seemed nice. i should apologize for-“
the arm around him shifted. in one fluid motion, seunghyun rolled them over, pinning jiyong beneath his massive frame. his cock, still semi-hard, pressed against jiyong’s thigh.
“say that again.”
“i said i should apologize to-“
seunghyun’s hand clamped over jiyong’s mouth, cutting him off. his eyes were slits, his jaw tight.
“you’re not done, are you?” his voice was a whisper, dangerous and low. “you think one round is enough to teach you?”
jiyong’s eyes sparkled above the hand. he shook his head slowly, a clear no.
seunghyun stared at him for a long, tense moment. then he laughed, he removed his hand and sat up, reaching for his jeans.
“get dressed. we’re leaving.”
“where?”
“my place. you want to play games? fine. we’ll play all night.”
seunghyun’s apartment was cold, all glass and steel. the windows overlooked the city lights, but jiyong had no time to admire the view. as soon as the door closed behind them, seunghyun shoved him against the wall, his body a cage of heat and muscle.
“i’m going to fuck you until you forget that blonde bitch’s name,” he growled, his mouth hot against jiyong’s ear. “until the only name you remember is mine.”
jiyong moaned, his body already responding, his cock stirring despite the soreness. “then do it.”
seunghyun dragged him to the bedroom, a vast space dominated by a bed with black silk sheets. he threw jiyong onto the mattress, watching him bounce, his small frame swallowed by the dark fabric.
“strip,” seunghyun ordered, unbuckling his belt again. “slowly. and touch yourself. i want to watch you beg for it.”
jiyong obeyed, rising to his knees on the bed. he pulled off the torn remnants of his mesh shirt, then shimmied out of his shorts, leaving him naked and exposed. his skin was pale, tattooed, his nipples hard, his small cock already leaking a clear bead of precum.
he trailed his fingers down his chest, over his stomach, grazing his own length. he let out a soft, breathy moan, his eyes locked on seunghyun’s.
“is this what you want?” jiyong whispered, his voice syrupy sweet. “to watch me touch myself while you get hard?”
seunghyun’s pants were already open, his cock springing free, thick and veined and glistening with precum. he stroked himself slowly, matching jiyong’s rhythm.
“turn around. on your hands and knees.”
jiyong did, presenting his ass, the cheeks still red from earlier. he could feel seunghyun’s gaze on him, could feel the anticipation building.
“what do you want?” seunghyun asked, his voice strained.
“i want you to fuck me until i can't walk.”
“that's not begging.”
jiyong looked over his shoulder, his lips curving into a dangerous smile. “please, please fuck your little slut. i’ve been so bad. i need to be punished.”
that was all the invitation seunghyun needed.
he crawled onto the bed behind jiyong, his massive hands gripping the smaller boy’s hips. he didn’t bother with a condom this time, spit was enough, a quick, messy application before he pressed the head of his cock against jiyong’s entrance.
“you’re going to take every inch. and you're going to thank me for it.”
jiyong cried out as seunghyun pushed in, his fists clenching the silk sheets. the stretch was even more intense without the condom, the raw, hot friction of skin on skin. he felt every ridge, every vein, as seunghyun sunk deeper, inch by agonizing inch.
“thank me,” seunghyun growled, his hips flush against jiyong’s ass.
“thank you,” jiyong gasped. “thank you, seunghyun-oppa!”
“wrong. say ‘thank you, daddy.’”
jiyong’s breath hitched. the word sent a shiver through him, a heady mix of shame and arousal. “thank you… daddy.”
seunghyun began to move, slow and deliberate strokes that dragged against jiyong’s walls, coaxing moans from his throat. he leaned over jiyong’s back, his chest pressing against jiyong’s spine, his mouth at his ear.
“tell me who you belong to.”
“you, daddy. i belong to you.”
“and that boy? the one you were grinding on?”
“just a toy to make you jealous.” jiyong’s voice broke as seunghyun hit that spot inside him, his eyes rolling back. “he means nothing, only you!”
“then why do i still feel angry?” seunghyun’s thrusts grew harder, faster, his hips slapping against jiyong’s ass with wet lewd sounds. “why do i want to ruin you so badly that no one else would ever dare look at you?”
“because you’re possessive,” jiyong whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “because you love me!”
seunghyun didn’t answer. he just fucked him harder, his grunts filling the room, punctuated by the squeak of the bed frame and jiyong’s broken cries.
he pulled out, flipped jiyong onto his back, and drove into him again, this time aiming deeper. he wrapped a hand around jiyong’s throat, not choking, just holding, a reminder of his control. his other hand found jiyong’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts.
“i want you to come while i’m inside you,” seunghyun ordered. “and i want you to scream my name.”
it didn’t take long. the combination of the constant stimulation, the possessive grip, the raw fucking, jiyong was already on the edge. when seunghyun tightened his hand on his throat, cutting off just enough oxygen, jiyong’s orgasm ripped through him, violent and shuddering. he screamed, a high, keening sound, his cum splattering across his own chest and stomach.
seunghyun followed moments later, burying himself deep, his release flooding jiyong’s insides with hot, thick spurts. he stayed there, pulsing, breathing harshly, his forehead pressed against jiyong’s.
they lay like that for a long time, tangled and spent. seunghyun’s cock softened and slipped out, leaving a trail of cum leaking from jiyong’s hole onto the silk sheets.
jiyong’s hand found seunghyun’s, intertwining their fingers.
“i love you.” he whispered, barely audible.
seunghyun’s lips pressed against his temple. “i know.”
“you’re still rude.”
“shut up.”
jiyong laughed, weak and satisfied. he curled into seunghyun’s side, his head resting on the older man’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
tomorrow, he’d think of a new way to make him jealous. maybe a waiter, maybe a delivery boy. the game was too fun to stop.
but for now, he was exactly where he wanted to be, broken, claimed, and thoroughly punished, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
the silence stretched between them, soft and heavy, the only sounds the distant hum of the city and their slowing breaths. jiyong lied curled against seunghyun’s chest, his cheek pressed to the warm skin, feeling the steady thump of the older man’s heart. his body ached in the most satisfying way, thighs sore, hole tender, throat raw from screaming. but his mind was already spinning, already craving more.
he shifted, letting his lips brush over seunghyun’s pectoral, tracing a slow, deliberate path toward his nipple. he sucked it gently, teasingly, feeling it harden under his tongue.
seunghyun’s hand came up, fingers threading through jiyong’s hair, not pulling, just holding. “you’re insatiable.”
“can you blame me?” jiyong murmured against his skin, his voice muffled. “you fucked me so good, daddy. but i think… i think i need more.”
“daddy.”
jiyong’s breath hitched at the way seunghyun said it low, possessive, tasting the word like it belonged to him. “yes. daddy. you are my daddy, aren’t you? the only one who knows how to take care of me.”
seunghyun’s grip tightened in his hair, tilting jiyong’s head back, forcing him to meet his eyes. “and what does my little boy need?”
jiyong’s lips parted, his gaze heavy-lidded, submissive. “i need you to fill me up again. i need to feel you inside me, daddy. i need to be your good boy.”
“good boy?” seunghyun’s laugh was dark, empty of humor. “you’ve been a brat all night. flirting with that blonde fuck, making me watch. do you think good boys do that?”
jiyong’s eyes glistened, not with tears of remorse but with arousal. “no, daddy. i was bad. i was so bad. and i need you to punish me again. please.”
seunghyun studied him for a long moment. then he released his hair and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. he walked to the dresser, his naked body a silhouette against the city lights, broad shoulders, carved back, the muscles shifting as he opened a drawer and retrieved something.
he turned. in his hand was a leather belt, doubled over.
“on your knees. on the floor.”
jiyong’s pulse quickened. he scrambled off the bed, the silk sheets pooling around his waist before slipping away. he knelt on the cold hardwood floor, his hands resting on his thighs, his head bowed, a picture of perfect submission.
seunghyun circled him slowly, the belt swinging lazily from his fingers. the leather creaked with each step.
“you want to be daddy’s good boy?”
“yes, daddy.”
“then you’ll take ten strokes. and you’ll count each one. and you’ll thank me after every single one.”
jiyong’s breath came faster. “yes, daddy.”
the first crack of leather against his ass was sharp, searing. jiyong gasped, his whole body jerking forward. but he found his voice. “one. thank you, daddy!”
another stroke, lower, catching the tender crease where his ass met his thighs. “two. thank you, daddy!”
by the fifth, his eyes were wet, his voice trembling. but he didn't stop. he wanted this, he needed this. each stroke was a reminder of who owned him.
“ten. thank you, daddy!” his voice was a broken whisper, his ass a map of red, raised welts.
seunghyun dropped the belt and knelt behind him, his hands gripping jiyong’s hips, his mouth pressing a soft kiss to the abused skin. “such a good boy for daddy.”
then he pushed jiyong forward, onto his hands and knees on the floor. he didn't need lube, jiyong was still wet from before, his hole slick and gaping. seunghyun lined up his cock and pushed in with one smooth, relentless motion.
jiyong’s scream was choked off by his own hand, his forehead pressing to the cold floor. the stretch was exquisite pain and pleasure, the friction raw from the fresh welts moving against seunghyun’s hips.
“daddy,” he whimpered. “daddy, daddy, daddy-“
“i’ve got you, i’m gonna fuck you till you can’t think.” seunghyun’s voice was strained, his thrusts deep and steady. “you’re so tight. so perfect. made for my cock.”
jiyong’s hands clawed at the hardwood, his knuckles white. “only for you, daddy. only ever for you!”
seunghyun reached around, his fingers finding jiyong’s leaking cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. “you’re going to come for daddy again, and when you do, you’re going to say ‘i love you, daddy.’ understand?”
“yes, daddy.”
the pressure built, coiling in jiyong’s gut, his balls tightening. he was so close, so close.
seunghyun’s hand moved faster, his hips slamming harder, the sounds of wet flesh and desperate moans filling the room. “say it.”
“i love you, daddy!” jiyong sobbed as his orgasm crashed over him, his body convulsing, his cum splattering onto the floor. “i love you, i love you, i love you-“ jiyong cut off by a scream as seunghyun burying himself deep, his release pumping hot into jiyong’s ass. he stayed there, breathing hard, his forehead pressed to jiyong’s shoulder blade, neither of them moved for a while.
finally, seunghyun pulled out, scooping jiyong up from the floor as if he weighed nothing. he carried him to the bed, laying him gently on the silk sheets, then climbed in beside him.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” seunghyun muttered, pulling jiyong into his arms.
jiyong smiled, weak and satisfied, nuzzling into his chest. “yeah, daddy?”
“don’t call me that when we're not fucking.”
“why? does it make you hard?”
seunghyun growled, but there was no heat in it. he pressed a kiss to jiyong’s forehead. “go to sleep.”
“will you still be here when i wake up?”
“i’m not going anywhere.”
jiyong closed his eyes, a genuine smile curling his lips. he was sore, exhausted, marked, and utterly content.