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It had been an accidental discovery, really — a word unwittingly blurted out at the crest of red-hot passion. Both of them had been surprised, happily so, as an understanding formed between them that neither expected nor could stop. But, neither spoke of it afterwards, not wanting to break the temporary spell they had unwittingly cast, taking comfort in just knowing.

That is, until that one random day when Jean came home with a peculiar... thirst, one that had been building up whether he liked it or not.

All it had taken were carefully chosen words, an open palm, and a silk tie, and there was nothing Seung-gil could do to resist him.

A pale chest heaves, betraying the control otherwise schooling Seung-gil's stance of stoic submission. His eyes are covered, his hands bound behind his back, and his knees a pretty shade of red to match the blooming archipelago of hand prints on his backside.

A gasp escapes him as another sharp smack stings over the lush flesh, but realizes the mistake too late when Jean tugs at his bindings to bring him upright.

"What did I say?" Jean asks, his lips grazing the line of Seung-gil's shoulder, words tender and dripping caution.

The response comes slow and broken. “S-silence,” he says, his hold on his body slipping.

“That’s right, baby,” Jean says, tracing his way up to Seung-gil’s ear in a trail of scratchy burns left by his beard. “Now, be a good boy for me, gongjunim, and I’ll take care of you.”

A wash of euphoria overcomes him then, seeping into the recesses of his consciousness at Jean’s words. He stills, a smile glowing on his lips; he can feel Jean’s body behind him hard and firm. Safe. He’s safe. Jean will take care of him; in the silken darkness behind the tie tied over his eyes, he's never alone.

The shiver that runs down Seung-gil’s body is a quake, and he forces himself to swallow his scream as Jean’s teeth sink into the meat of his shoulder. But when Jean’s hips push forward in a snap, that control shatters brilliantly.

"Please, daddy."

The chuckle from behind him is smooth as poison, sweet and dangerous and all that molds Jean into that one word that tilts Seung-gil’s world off-center.

“Oh, princess,” Jean clicks his tongue; a hand slips down Seung-gil’s chest and between his legs. It earns him a sob as Seung-gil’s head rolls back against Jean’s shoulder, who soothes him with a soft shush. “I won’t stop until you break.”