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Behind the Mask

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Jimin admitted, he was odd. But he put that on shyness and social awkwardness. He has trouble approaching people; it's a fear of rejection. Jimin met men like Namjoon before, so he didn't judge. They're timid and unsure the first time; worried Jimin might say 'no' and leave. Jimin laughed at this: why would he leave when he's getting paid? It isn't uncommon to meet a man who'd never paid for sex before. He assumed Namjoon was one of them. He proved him wrong.

They'd met at Club Gold, a local night club. Lively music and discount drinks draw in patrons, but it's people like Jimin who keep them around. It’s easy to find a "friend" by the bar or in the bathrooms. Jimin sat by the bar with the rest, crop top showing a bit of skin and tight ripped jeans hugging his hips and thighs. He showed off just enough for the imagination; they paid if they wanted the rest. He and Yoongi often came to Club Gold for customers looking for a good time. The weekends are the best nights since that’s when people are out to play. It’d been a slow for him surprisingly, but the night is still young. Gazing around the crowd, he's surprised now he hadn't noticed Namjoon before. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone wore tight, revealing clothes. Namjoon wore a blue collared shirt and khaki pants. He kept his hair parted over one side, and thick glasses on the bridge of his nose. Jimin only noticed him until he came up to the bar. He seemed clean cut; he bought a beer and kept quiet. Namjoon surveyed the club from his seat.

"Hey there," Jimin moved over to him.

"Um, uh, hi," he replied nervously, holding his beer bottle with two hands.

"I'm Jimin," he continued. "What's your name?"

"Na-namjoon."

He's a cutie; still is even after everything. Jimin immediately spotted his nerves. "Are you new in the neighborhood? I've never seen you around before."

"Not really. Just never, um, you know...been here before." He looked to the other people on the dancefloor. "D-d-do you, uh, come here a lot?"

"I do. You can say that I basically work here." He sipped his drink and moved a bit closer.

"You do?" He looked over Jimin, then it seemed to click. "Oh! Oh, um, okay. Wow. That's-that's interesting."

"What do you do?"

"I work at the library."

"Really? They still have those?" he joked.

Namjoon nodded. "It's not exciting but it pays the bills, you know?"

"I get what you mean." He leaned enough that the curves of his body showed. Namjoon forced himself not to look, but Jimin didn't give up easily. "So, what are you looking for tonight? Waiting on someone?"

"Oh, um, uh, well, I was...I wasn't really...I'm sort of kind of winging it. I didn't have any plans or anything. I came on my own."

"That's brave. I can never go anywhere on my own."

"I'm sure lots of people would go with you anyway."

Jimin made his move, "And do you want to go somewhere with me? The dance floor? That motel down the street?"

Namjoon blushed and smiled looking away. Jimin pouted, "Oh come on, I don't bite." He smoothed a hand up Namjoon's bicep, feeling a hard muscle there. It turned him on somehow. "We can just talk and dance if you want. I don't charge for that."

"I'm not a very good dancer."

"Lucky for you, I am. Come on."

He tenderly took Namjoon's hand. Much bigger than his, Jimin already saw them on his body. He brought him into the sea of dancers, shaking his hips as Namjoon followed. For a while, the tall man awkwardly swayed in place. He mostly watched Jimin dance. Jimin could feel him taking in his shape and movements. He showed off glimpses of skin and stuck out his hips more. He liked being watched by anybody, but Namjoon excited him the most. It's rare Jimin finds a customer he likes. They're all older and hastier. Namjoon took it slower...or rather Jimin did for his sake.

“You’re a good dancer,” Namjoon called over the music. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“New World Dance Academy,” he moved at a slower pace, stepping to Namjoon. “My mom told me dancing would get me nowhere, and well, I found a better use for it.”

“You can do a lot with dance experience. You know, become a dance instructor or join a studio.”

“Not many studios around here, handsome,” said Jimin, bumping his hip to Namjoon’s. “Plus, you need professional experience for that kind of thing.”

“I suppose.”

“You out seeking to save poor unfortunate people like me?” teased Jimin, taking both his hands.

“Oh, um, no. I didn’t mean to like offend you or anything. I was only saying...you seem nice.”

“I can be very nice.”

During one song, he brought Namjoon closer. He appeared so non-threatening. Jimin imagined he'd never hurt a fly. It's strange now. Very strange. He recalled putting Namjoon's hands on his hips, the both of them moving closely together. He saw Namjoon's reluctance slowly fade, though he still stared at Jimin.

"Like something you see?" Jimin sneered, noticing Namjoon’s wandering eyes.

"Yes. You." The way he said it made Jimin's heart flutter. Now, Jimin believes he said that to every boy he met. He continued, "You're so beautiful. I'd never imagine you...you doing what you do. You should...you should be a model."

"Oh stop it."

"I mean it." He paused, "Would you model for me? I can pay you."

"You're a photographer?"

"Partly. I just like...I like taking pictures of beautiful things." He quickly added, "If you don't want to, I understand."

It isn’t his first time being filmed or photographed. It usually leads to more money later. Jimin nodded, "Sure. I'll do it."

Namjoon's dimpled smile melted his heart. "Great. Um, how much do you charge for that?"

"$30 if it's just underwear. $50 if you want me naked," he smirked, hands on Namjoon's chest. He felt his heart thump lightly against his palm. He usually charged more, but he liked Namjoon for some reason. He'd seemed so different from other clients.

"Naked. I want you naked."

"$50 it is then. There's a motel up the street we can go to."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have enough."

Jimin learned later why Namjoon didn't want a motel. The owner put him on their banned list.

"So where?"

"My place? I live nearby so we don't have to go far. I also have better drinks there."

Going to a client's place is always sketchy. Usually they live with partners, roommates, or family. The few who offered left him uneasy and cautious. However, seeing Namjoon's hopeful eyes and small dimples lured him in. The pair left the bar for the crowded streets. They talked the entire way. Much more at ease, Namjoon began talking about himself. He came from a small suburb and lived there most of his life. His parents divorced when he was sixteen; he has a younger sister in college while he graduated a few years ago. A perfectly normal life. Jimin knew later that most of this was a lie. Jimin, as they passed a diner, told his own story: a runaway from a broken family and an abusive home. He’d come looking for a better life, and instead started selling himself. H

“Either that or be a drug dealer and end up in prison,” he said as they reached a tall brick building. “When cops pick me up, I get out the next night.”

“Isn’t it still dangerous?” Namjooned led him into the apartment building and to the elevator. “You can get raped or assaulted.”

“At the beginning, sure that can happen. But when you’ve done it as long as me, you sort of know who’s okay and who’s not.”

“And what about me? Am I okay?”

Jimin smiled, “Maybe.”

Namjoon lived in a modest place. No fancy art, no priceless items, and covered in signs somebody stayed here often. He watched Namjoon hastily pick up the mugs and papers on the coffee table. Namjoon didn’t own much: an old television and DVD player, a small stereo and potted plants. His furniture appeared used as if bought at a garage sale instead of a store. Jimin liked it. It reminded him of his own home nearby. He’s not homeless, which he explained to Namjoon, because he did “favors” for his landlord. Yes, it’s degrading, but better than being on the street.

“Um, would you like a drink before we get started?” asked Namjoon by the open kitchen area.

“Sure. A water.”

“You don’t want a real drink? I have some vodka-”

“-No thanks. I drank enough at the club.”

He never noticed Namjoon’s disappointed face because he examined a bonsai tree. Would he have left if he’d seen it? What would have happened if he’d taken one of Namjoon’s special cocktails? Jimin took the water kindly, gulping half before setting it down. “Where do you want me?”

Namjoon glanced around the room, “The couch is good for now. Let me just set it up.”

He didn’t find it odd to see Namjoon spread plastic over the couch. Clients did that before to avoid stains or fluids leaking on their furniture. He’d only be adding one more stain to the few already there. He brought a polaroid camera from his bedroom and a box.

“Whatcha got there?” asked Jimin, eyeing the box.

“Just some props,” Namjoon explained. “If you’re interested.”

“Consider me curious?”

He opened the box. Jimin saw an array of sex toys; something Jimin is very familiar with. However, it’s what Namjoon withdrew from his back pocket that intrigued Jimin. In his hand, he held a pair of thigh-high stockings. White with lace bands, they felt silky in Jimin’s hands. “You want me to wear these?” he asked.

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“It’s your money,” said Jimin. “Stockings are nothing compared to other things I’ve worn.”

Namjoon appeared relieved. “You can undress now,” he told Jimin, “And we’ll get started.”

Jimin stripped. Slowly. He locked eyes with Namjoon as he carefully removed each piece of clothing. He wanted to entice him more. He liked the way the elder looked at him, undressing and devouring him with his eyes. He stared as if Jimin was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It felt nice simply being admired rather than lusted for. Undoubtedly, Namjoon is aroused, but he set this aside. Jimin liked it when they rode it out rather than get straight to it.

“You have an amazing body,” Namjoon marveled, seeing Jimin now pull up the stockings.

"Thank you," smiled Jimin. "Where do you want me?"

"The, um, couch is good for now."

Then the shoot began. He took a few shots of him standing from different angles. He then asked Jimin to kneel on the couch, laying over the armrest. Namjoon's eyes never left him. He said encouraging things and praised him, which Jimin liked. He eventually asked Jimin to take off the underwear little by little in each photo. Once he had Jimin naked, he stood over him to take more pictures. He took an anal plug from the box and held it for Jimin to suck on. Jimin kept his eyes on Namjoon as he licked and sucked the plastic toy. He drew out his lips more and flicked his tongue to Namjoon’s delight. Deemed wet enough, he bent Jimin over and spread his cheeks. Jimin groaned feeling a warm tongue begin rolling around his exposed entrance. The anticipation for the toy was fulfilled. He spat over Jimin’s exposed entrance and carefully slid the toy inside. Being filled caused Jimin to grind and whine on the couch. Namjoon went on taking his photos, particularly where the toy nestled. He occasionally pushed and pulled on it to hear Jimin’s soft moans. Jimin noticed a bump starting to grow in Namjoon's crotch. Seeing the bulge, he knew there's more money to be made.

"Is this all you want?" Jimin asked, carefully trailing a hand on Namjoon's thigh. "Just pictures? Don't you want the full experience?"

Namjoon didn't answer. He put the camera aside and brushed Jimin’s stomach with his fingers. Jimin hummed at the light touch, enjoying Namjoon’s soft digits over the rough ones he often felt. Up and down they went, briefly going over Jimin’s stiffening length and one his hard nipples. He knelt down beside the couch; he put his full hand now and felt Jimin’s muscles. He liked Jimin’s responses. The plug inside him went further in with Jimin now on his back. He couldn’t help but move around on it. Namjoon liked his eagerness, though didn’t want him to finish so soon. He raised up Jimin’s knees to pull up some of the weight. However, the vulnerable position only aroused Jimin more.

He began pinching and grazing over Jimin’s nipples. Small sparks of pleasure came each time Namjoon touched them. He then started kissing. He started on his side, then up to his chest and neck. Jimin nearly melted into the plastic sheet. His warm mouth caressed wherever they landed; his hand continued roaming him, now squeezing his thigh and leg. On the base of his throat, he nibbled the tender flesh gently. Jimin turned his head to give him more access and Namjoon took it. He kissed right up to Jimin’s ear, tugging the earlobe with his teeth.

“How much for a blowjob?” Namjoon asked. His timidness vanished in the wake of his desire. He cupped his jaw and turned his head. Pure lust filled his eyes now; a quiet desperation fueled him. He traced his lower lip with his thumb, “I want to feel these around me.”

Before Jimin answered, he kissed him. A deep, passionate kiss Jimin will never experience again. It’s loving and sensual. Namjoon kept him close despite their position, nipping and licking his lower lip. Jimin whispered his price when Namjoon drew away and the other agreed. Namjoon sat on the couch while Jimin sank to his knees in front of him. He first removed the shirt, revealing Namjoon’s toned, golden body. He gave into his body’s demands and felt him all over. He’s much fitter than Jimin expected of a librarian; then again, he’s the same. He continued kissing down to his belt buckle, where he undid and unzipped him. Once his pants were off, Jimin caressed and kissed the pulsating bulge in his underwear.

“Gosh, you’re big,” Jimin moaned, licking where his tip must be. “I can fuck this for days and not get enough.”

“It’s not...It’s not that big.”

“Don’t be so modest,” he went back up the long length, “It is. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm.”

He sighed the moment he pulled down the boxers. Pointed straight at him, he instantly took hold of it. The touch produced a low groan from Namjoon, who sat and watched him. He started teasingly licking and sucking his underside; its weight heavy on his lips. He went over the veins pumping blood into the hard muscle; he can feel him pulsing right on his tongue. Soon, he fully took Namjoon in. He felt good in his mouth. He’s hot and stiff, making it much easier to go further down. The bit he couldn’t take he stroked instead; he made sure to give gentle squeezes to matched his sucking. The sounds Namjoon let out brought the dirtiest scenes to mind. The plug inside him moved as he clenched and unclenched his walls. It begged to be fully filled by Namjoon. Yes, it’d raise the bill, but Jimin secretly wanted it. He rarely had anyone this good. Namjoon treated him so sweetly and let him go his own pace.

Until his hand fell into Jimin’s hair. It’s not uncommon to be guided up and down during a blowjob. Jimin liked it; it helped him know what his client liked. Little did he know, Namjoon liked something else. He pushed Jimin down to the hilt of his cock. Jimin felt the tip rest right on the back of his throat, cutting off his oxygen. Rather than let him come back up, Namjoon kept him firmly in place. He barely lifted him off it before sinking him back down. It’s alright. Jimin relaxed and breathed through his nose despite the clogging in his throat. Then Namjoon pinched his nose after feeling his deep breaths. Jimin thought he might puke. He hit Namjoon’s thighs. He tried pulling away from him, but Namjoon’s strong hands kept him in place. Tears ran down the sides of his mouth, but the cock muffled his cries. He began seeing spots in the dimness between Namjoon’s stomach and hips.

Suddenly, Namjoon released him. Jimin fell back onto his haunches, gasping and coughing up the bit of precum stuck in his throat. He gazed up at Namjoon through blurry eyes. “What the fuck?” Jimin spat out venomously. “If you liked that shit, you should’ve said so first!” He wiped saliva from his mouth, still coughing.

“I’m...I’m sorry.” Jimin never noticed how emotionless it sounded. “Do you want more water?” he asked, handing Jimin the glass on the table.

Jimin took it without saying anything. That should’ve been his cue to leave. Namjoon sat seeing his sputter and clear his throat. His pain seemed to please him. “I’m sorry I did that to you,” he continued, “I guess I got caught up in the moment. I really liked what you were doing. If you feel okay now, maybe we can keep going?” He spotted Jimin’s apprehensiveness and pulled out his wallet. Jimin hated himself for it now, but back then, Namjoon’s full wallet persuaded him easily. “I’ll pay extra for hurting you. I just...don’t want to stop now…”

Jimin needed the money. Namjoon had it. He finished his water and massaged his throat. The toy inside him no longer felt pleasurable. His hard on slowly softened feeling the unwanted pain. “If you liked choking, you should’ve told me. I don’t like being surprised that way.”

“I said I’m sorry.” He put a hundred-dollar bill on the coffee table beside Jimin. Then he added a twenty to it, pointedly looking at Jimin as he did. “How much is it going to take to be in you? To spank you while I do it? Whip you even? I really like you, and I don’t want to scare you away.”

“Another hundred,” he challenged. Namjoon can’t possibly have that much left.

He did. He stacked it on the other bills. “I’ll add another twenty since you’re so beautiful,” and added he did. “That’s three-hundred-ninety right there.”

“Spanking is a dollar per spank,” he continued. “The same for whipping me.”

Namjoon chuckled at his challenge. He placed a ten, “We’ll stick to spanking for now. If I do more, then I’ll pay for the extras. It’s an even four-hundred now. How often do you get four-hundred dollars?” When Jimin didn’t answer, he pulled him back to his knees. “Get me hard again; with a mouth like yours, it won’t take long.”

Jimin eyed the money behind him, then went back to sucking him. This time he moved gradually; Namjoon sat on his hands to reassure Jimin he won’t do it again. He doesn’t mind being choked; he simply wished Namjoon said something first. Fully hard again, Namjoon took off his pants and brought Jimin to the bedroom. The odd scent should have alarmed him, but he owned it up to Namjoon being a man. He might’ve not cleaned in a while, that’s all. Namjoon wasn’t completely indifferent. He made up for his mistake in other ways: choking himself on Jimin, kissing and comforting Jimin back into his heat. Eventually, Namjoon replaced the toy with himself. His length became more apparent inside Jimin; gingerly thrusting and keeping Jimin in place. On his front, his grasped the pillows under him and moaned into them.

Namjoon certainly got his money’s worth that night. Pounding Jimin into the bed now, he slapped Jimin’s cheeks one at a time. He grunted about wanting his ass a nice pink color to match his sweet center. The light stings sent shivers to Jimin’s front, causing him to grow even harder on the bed. He lost himself completely in the feeling of the shaft stretching him. Euphoric and passionate. Jimin saw stars behind his eyelids; he pushed himself further down on Namjoon, who welcomed it eagerly. He’s a different person compared to the man at the club. Jimin didn’t know better that night. He’s only a customer. A hot, horny and rich customer. Namjoon took him in other positions after, and Jimin didn’t protest once.

On his back, knees on Namjoon’s thighs, Jimin enjoyed Namjoon even more. The angle hit right on the sweet spot that deepened his need. His huffing pants matched Namjoon’s grunting; a thing Namjoon seemed to like. Jimin didn’t find it odd when Namjoon began feeling up his chest again. He fondled Jimin’s neck with both hands, merely massaging the base and his shoulders. He kissed on the Adam’s apple of his throat and left little bite marks on his collarbone. He noticed Namjoon getting rougher. The other man gripped at his hair and pinned him with one hand. Jimin enjoyed it; he liked seeing the timidness fall away into confidence. Right on the cusp of his orgasm, Namjoon’s hands went around Jimin’s neck. Light pressure at first, only breaking away to let him breathe, before closing it again. Jimin’s orgasm hit him hard. He trembled, but Namjoon’s hands smothered his cries. He slowly became dizzy as hot streams filled him, Namjoon groaning loudly and shaking. He tapped Namjoon’s wrist to warn him, yet he didn’t let go just yet. Jimin gagged for even the slightest bit of air; the spots came back and slowly faded to darkness. But once again, Namjoon let go.

His orgasm subsiding, Namjoon turned over to see Jimin carefully rubbing his sore throat. Namjoon remained quiet at first. He stared at Jimin curiously. He seemed to be asking himself a question that he never asked out loud. He then began kissing Jimin, muttering more apologies and promises of more money. Jimin...didn’t know how to feel. He still doesn’t. He loved the attention Namjoon gave afterwards. He put a cool pack and cough drops for Jimin’s throat. He eased his sore muscles in a hot shower and more kisses. Usually, this is the end of it. Jimin will pull on his clothes and go back onto the street. It’s not too late; he can catch another customer before going back home. But when they returned to the bedroom, toweling themselves off and searching for boxers, Namjoon took his wrist.

“Stay? Just for tonight?”

Jimin normally said ‘no’. He has money to make elsewhere. Yet, he looked up at Namjoon’s hopeful face and folded immediately. Despite the warning signs, despite the choking, Jimin slipped back into Namjoon’s bed. His arms warmed the chill from Jimin’s skin. It felt nice having a quiet moment this way. There’s no expectations or requests. Namjoon simply wished to hold him. His fingers traced the definitions of his muscles; they took in the smoothness of his chest. He’s beautiful. Jimin couldn’t stop touching him. The pair continued talking through their sleepiness until they drifted off to sleep. Jimin never took note of the strange smell coming from the bed.

****

Jimin never saw what Namjoon hid under his sweet smile. He didn’t see it until he turned on the news a few months later. His heart stopped and his cereal bowl fell through his hands. Two policemen escorted a familiar person out of a brick building into a police car. He knew the light blond hair anywhere. It was his regular, Kim Namjoon. The nicest, kinkiest customer he had. Jimin tried blocking out the details, but the media loves misery. They said he drugged, assaulted and murdered his victims. Jimin realized, sitting on his couch, that he could’ve been one of them. He targeted male prostitutes and runaways with no family to care for them. Jimin is one such person.

“We found you in his photo album,” a burly police officer told him. They’d called him in for questioning. They seemed to think he took part in Namjoon’s crimes. He insisted he did now, though this begged the question: “How come you’re the only one alive in these photos?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. He was...He was always nice to me.”

“He acted that way with a lot of them if what witnesses say are true. You were laying in bed with a monster, Jimin. Surely you know something we don’t.”

Did he ever suspect anything? Did he see anything unusual? The answer was ‘no’ each time. He is as puzzled as them, and still is to this day. A monster. The more details he learned, the more obvious it became. He is a monster in the worst of ways. Disgusting, vile and evil. Yet, Jimin’s heart ached when he heard the guilty verdict. They say he dodged a bullet that first night. People asked him why Namjoon spared him: his looks? His smile? His dancing? He didn’t know. He thinks about it during those long lonely nights. He did not dare call or write the man in fear of the answer. He decided he’d rather not know.

He wished to only remember the mask.