Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3403559.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS
  Relationship:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Park_Jimin
  Character:
      Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Park_Jimin
  Additional Tags:
      here_goes:, BDSM, Age_Play, Age_Difference, Dom/sub, Incest, Half-Sibling
      Incest, Past_Abuse, Past_Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Bullying,
      Crossdressing, Gender_Issues, Daddy_Kink, Homophobia, Homophobic
      Language, Punishment, Gags, Butt_Plugs, Sex_Toys, Sex_Toys_Under
      Clothing, Semi-Public_Sex, Cock_Rings, Cock_Worship, cock_shaming, Loss
      of_Virginity, Dry_Orgasm, Praise_Kink, Later:_-_Freeform, Watersports,
      Suspension, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, namjoon_is_too_horny_for_his_own
      good, ddlb
  Series:
      Part 1 of daddy_nam
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-21 Words: 32108
****** when you say jump, i say how high daddy? ******
by voseok
Summary
     Fate seats him in front of a beautiful, cherubic boy. There’s a
     slight sag in his shoulders, and he looks so submissive that
     something dominant, something feral roars within Namjoon. It’s
     something that Namjoon hasn’t experienced in a long, long time, and
     his mouth waters at the familiarity of it.
     The boy's name is Jimin, and he is Namjoon's newest step-brother.
Notes
     Please do NOT read if you are sensitive to any of the topics
     mentioned in the tags. I did a LOT of research on BDSM and how it
     works, the emotions behind it, etc. bc i didn't want to imply
     anything other than a mutually consensual, romantically involved
     relationship between two people who are emotionally invested in each
     other.
     tl;dr: DONT READ IT IF YOU'RE JUST GONNA WHINE ABT IT LOL
     cross-posted_to_aff
See the end of the work for more notes
 
Namjoon is a man of many duties. He is swarmed every single waking second of
his precious, monotonous life with assignments, errands, appointments, and
complaints. Although he cannot find himself to be troubled with the pointless
complaints of his staff—those can be dealt with later with a resignation letter
on their work desk—he needs to attend all of his scheduled meetings with
prominent businessmen. He’s only gone to three and he is already suffering from
a sharp jab of pain ringing numbly at the base of his head. The mild headache
gives Namjoon an excuse to be irritable so he deals with his staff members and
corporate heads with an even quicker tongue than usual.
 
 
Kim Namjoon. Standing at 181 centimeters and with a permanent scowl on his
handsome face, he is easily one of the most influential and feared leaders in
Seoul.
He is also the heir of Kim Byunghun, founder of the original Byunghun Hospital
in Seoul. His father is a capable, affluent man with a domineering personality
that makes all others cower behind his wake. Namjoon supposes that’s where he’d
inherited his own dominant personality and almost suffocatingly stern temper,
but he finds it a personal offense to be compared to such a man.
Byunghun had never given his only son the time of day, being too engrossed in
his own career to actually give a shit about Namjoon. By the time he was
fifteen, his father had planted three successful hospitals across the capital
of South Korea. Namjoon had been neglected of the traditional values of “father
and son” relationships, having to fend for himself instead. Every grade below
an A+ received a disappointed glower from his father which was worse than any
physical punishment because he’d failed the only authority figure in his life
that meant something to him.
Yes, as a child Namjoon adored his father greatly. He took every comment on,
“Kim Byunghun is your dad?” and “You must be so rich!” with pride and he
strived to become a spitting image of Kim Byunghun’s one and only heir.
This immaculate dream was shattered once his father started sleeping around.
Namjoon didn’t think much of his father’s whorish ways at first, reasoning that
it was only natural that the 45-year-old man would want to placate his desires
while he was still very much influential. Hell, Namjoon used his notoriety in
school to fuck the most beautiful girls. But then Byunghun’s tendencies had
spread to the tabloids and Namjoon was sucked into the taxing drama of his
father and his many girlfriends and wives.
It took him away from his studies. His grades dropped after days of having to
wait out the paparazzi flocking around the gates of their mansion, only to slip
in during the wee hours of night. Every falter of his grade earned himself a
disapproving glance from his father, which turned into irritable glares,
frustration, and ultimately, outright fury. Byunghun’s constant plethora of
wives did nothing to stop him from raising a hand to swipe at his son’s cheek.
They did nothing to appease their beloved, rich husband from splashing
expensive, century old wine at their step-son’s face. They did absolutely
nothing and Namjoon did not care, for he knew they would be packing their
materialistic belongings and flying out of their lavish front door before he
can even memorize their last names.
So Kim Namjoon distanced himself from the violent, power-hungry man and righted
himself again in his studies, taking every crazy, drunken blow with grace and
creating a cold, metallic heart that fluttered only when he asserted his
dominance over frail, willing women.
Somewhere along the way, Namjoon had acquired a taste for sleeping with the
women his father had brought home. He quite liked the scandal of it all and had
developed a thrilling sense of pleasure whenever he managed to weaken
Byunghun’s girlfriends into playing with him. He never grew attached to any of
these women, however, feeling as though he was much higher in degree than the
silly, frivolous ladies who found their own mind numbing pleasure in the dirty
act. Alas, there was nothing quite like the frenzied look in his father’s eyes
after catching his son in bed with his newest fling, even if it did result in
another bruise from an airborne textbook or an empty bottle of wine.
After all, with all the money that the world had to offer right in his copious
bank account, Kim Namjoon had to find excitement in other festivities, and that
included fooling with his father’s playthings.
 
 
 
Namjoon is drowsing around in his office, polished shoes reclining on a cream
tinted doily on his desk made of European walnut. He’d finished his assignments
for the day, earning himself a rare slice of silence. He’s texting his father’s
latest girlfriend, sending her an abundance of flirtatious messages and
promises, when there is a series of knocks on the door. His secretary, Kim
Seokjin, a nice man in his late twenties who moans like a bitch when fucked
into his leather couch, pops his perfectly groomed head in the room and clears
his throat. Namjoon hums in response, eyes still glued to the smartphone in his
hands.
“Sir, an invitation from Dr. Kim arrived. I opened it as per request and it
seems Dr. Kim is having a family dinner this weekend. He’s expecting you to be
there to give your honor to his newest fiancée.”
Namjoon rolls his neck back in exasperation, wishing he could smash open the
windowed wall of his office and jump out—head first. He’s attended far too many
of his father’s damned feasts and they only ever ended in mental bloodbath.
However, he’s already become quite acquainted with the fiancée through his
multimedia messaging so he waves Seokjin off with a half-hearted order to RSVP
him for the feast before returning back to his phone. After a couple minutes of
mundane text messaging with the same flirtatious scripts and the same perverted
responses, he brings his feet off the table and starts work on his things to do
for the next day.
As heir of the company, Namjoon is to assume position as CEO for the Byunghun
Hospital line. Behind the hectic schedules of overworked doctors, nurses, and
patients is a glimmering tower of 50 stories to manage the business side of
things for the bustling organization. He is responsible for the finance of the
organization, as well as the marketing, promotions, hiring of highly skilled
doctors and nurses, operations behind the line, and setting the direction of
the organization with well thought out strategies and plans. Sometimes it gets
to be too much to bear on this young, 24-year-old’s shoulders, but then he need
simply remind himself that he is Kim Namjoon, the man who took over the entire
corporation at the tender age of 20. And sometime in the next 20 years, his
father will finally pass drowning his sickly liver in poison, making him
Seoul’s youngest and most powerful man.
 
 
By the end of the week Namjoon is worn, having went through a firing episode of
all the incompetent employees working under his name. He muses that a hot
shower would release the tension in his aching spine, so he retreats from his
office an hour early and leaves it to Seokjin to lock up that night. Once the
stainless steel and glass elevator reaches the reception area on the ground
floor, he orders one of the valet men to bring up his car and they do so in a
hurry. His sleek, black Lamborghini drives up and he throws his suitcase into
the passenger seat before settling into the driver’s side, ignoring the
scuttling valet. The soundless hum of energy surrounds him as he shuts the door
and he lets out a tense sigh, the vision of his hot shower ingrained into his
exhausted eyes.
But alas. He forgot.
Tonight is the night of his father’s damned dinner party. Namjoon clenches his
jaw in irritation as he forcefully tugs the joystick of the vehicle to Drive,
and he pulls out of the lavish driveway in one clean swoop.
“On a Saturday night, of all days,” he seethes to himself, swerving a little
too aggressively around cars that were too slow to move. Saturday night is his
night to recuperate and charge up to handle the next coming week. He’s
undeniably annoyed that his father beckoned him to attend a dinner and stress
him out even more.
Namjoon arrives at his luxurious penthouse at precisely 5:49PM, which leaves
him 41 minutes to wash up and get to his father’s mansion in time. Not the kind
of man to be late to any event, he hurries in to take a regretfully quick
shower and adorns himself in his finest Italian suit tailored to his figure,
and coifs his hair so it is carefully situated up and out of his face. A spritz
of his favorite cologne finalizes his appearance and he leaves his lonely abode
to mount his car once more.
The CEO thinks over what he is to say once he meets Seohyun, his father’s
newest fiancee. Perhaps he will pretend to not acknowledge her existence at
all? After all, it is delightfully amusing to watch them squirm as they
desperately try to gain the attention of the handsome, young man. But where is
the fun in that? Shall he toy with her like he does with all the other women,
taking her to bed and showing them what a pleasurable time they can experience
if they were to choose him over his father? Namjoon speculates over his
options, asking himself if watching his father get crimson in the face was
worth splotching his expensive suit with wine. In the end, he decides that he
will do what his gut tells him to do once he meets her since Seohyun is a
fiancée and no mere throwaway girlfriend.
Namjoon arrives at the mansion at 6:24PM, giving him six minutes to spare. He
checks his appearance on the rearview mirror before stepping out and letting
the valet to take his car away. There is a couple wearing extravagant finery
sidling up to the porch and Namjoon sighs, already feeling incredibly fatigued
at the future conversations he knows are to come.
The guests are appointed to the main room which has been decorated to replicate
a ballroom, with white roses holding up drapes of glossy, golden drapes and
maroon table covers dotting the expanse. The entire room is bathed in a
romantic and warm glow and Namjoon finds himself being lulled to a sluggish
state of mind, which he tries to sharpen with a bit of aged wine. A number of
attendants attempt small talk with him but Namjoon finds them petty and
alleviates himself from the greedy partygoers whenever possible. It isn’t until
his second glass of wine that a gentle thrum of applause breaks the stream of
elegant orchestral music.
Byunghun, looking not a day over thirty, descends from the right side of the
extravagant double staircase while his gorgeous wife sweeps down the left.
Namjoon leans against the wall and watches as the couple join together at the
base of the staircase and link elbows before entering the ballroom.
“Welcome, my friends, family, and acquaintances,” Byunghun begins. “I am
greatly pleased that you all made it to this wonderful ceremony of my fiancee
and I. We actually hold a very special surprise today—because I have had a few
wedding ceremonies in the past—” a good natured chuckle from the audience makes
Namjoon roll his eyes—”We have decided to marry each other right here, right
now! So let me cordially invite you to the wedding of the Kim Byunghun and Seo
Juhyun.”
A flutter of clapping ensues and Namjoon lazily raises the glass to his lips,
drinking the last of the wine. He’s about to push things along and search for
his father to congratulate him and run, when a woman approaches him and he
feels his jaw unhinge ever so slightly. The woman is stunning, with long, dark
brown hair curling tastefully over her petite shoulders, and a long, white,
sweetheart neckline dress that flows expensively behind her. Namjoon is
intrigued to say the least and he visibly checks her out, eyebrow raising when
she steps right in front of him. Her face is gorgeous with large, doe eyes, a
straight nose, and a sweetly curved lip.
“Hello. Kim Namjoon?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Park Sojin. Your father set me up to be your date for tonight.”
Oh. So she’s forward with her introductions. Namjoon admits that it is a nice
change from the usual intimidated, spineless greetings that he usually got, but
he isn’t sure if he likes it. He is a man of dominance, after all.
“Did he? Well, even if you’re only scheming to get into my company, I won’t
stop you because I am admittedly charmed.”
Sojin coyly smiles as she steps forward, revealing a perfect set of white
teeth.
“Is that so? I don’t need your company, Namjoon-sshi. I merely came to see how
things will go. And if the night goes smoothly….Well, let’s just say I’m
nearing the end of my days of youth and I need a suitable man to take care of
me.”
Namjoon is genuinely intrigued and they shamelessly flirt, the natural
connection that he has with women who have Sojin’s amount of poise clear and
evident. He asks her on a date and she agrees, attractively tucking fallen
strands of hair behind her ears.
Namjoon’s about to suggest that they leave for his own penthouse when a butler
suddenly approaches them and delivers the message that Byunghun and his fiancee
are anticipating the two for a pre-ceremonial tea. Namjoon almost brushes him
off, reluctant to attend such a thing. However, Sojin caresses his arm and
insists that she meet his family, and he begrudgingly leads her to the
exorbitant dining room where Byunghun and the rest of his family are indeed
waiting for them.
“Son!” Byunghun exclaims from his seat at the end of the long dining table. It
is garnished with platters upon platters of cakes, scones, and treats, as well
as pots of brewed tea and bottles of wine.
But his attention drifts from the excessive food on the table to a boy sitting
beside Seohyun.
He is perched on the costly piece of furniture but his hands are neatly clasped
on his lap and his eyes are downcast. He has a head of black, combed hair that
frames his face almost too unnaturally. There’s a slight sag in his shoulders
and he looks so submissive that something dominant, something feral roars
within Namjoon. It’s something that Namjoon hasn’t experienced in a long, long
time and his mouth waters at the familiarity of it.
The boy couldn’t have been more than 15 years old.
Namjoon is called back to Earth by his father who repeats his name again, this
time with rigor. The CEO snaps his eyes from the boy to Byunghun who looks
mildly bothered that he’d ignored him.
“Father,” Namjoon says finally, curtly nodding before taking a seat around the
corner from Byunghun, and across from Seohyun. Sojin sits beside him.
“So this is the famous Kim Namjoon,” Seohyun begins, her youthful eyes curving
to a charming eye smile. “I’ve heard so much about you from your father,” she
says, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk. Namjoon reciprocates her
gaze but he finds himself helpless to the urge to glance at the boy beside her
every once in a while.
“Have you? I find that hard to believe. Father hardly ever talks about anything
outside his studies if he’s not talking about his latest fling.”
He can feel Byunghun cast him a warning glare but he ignores it.
“Which reminds me: Which title should I call you by? Mrs. Kim? Miss? Or is
noona more suitable?”
“Son, that’s enough.”
Namjoon keeps his stare steady as Seohyun uncomfortably shifts in her seat,
trying to decipher whether she would last more than a month with his father.
From time to time, Byunghun would bring home a pleasant, favorable enough
woman. But the problem was never in the women themselves—no, it was his father
who drove them away. His drunken tendencies and his inability to commit to one
woman had his partners running out the door as soon as they’d come.
Seohyun, however, he couldn’t figure out. But he assures it’s entirely because
they’d only met face-to-face for less than a minute, so it’s too early to judge
anything.
“Why don’t you introduce Jimin over there, love?” Byunghun asks, reaching for
his glass of tea and taking a sip. He looks bored already, as if the initial
pleasure of bringing together his future family has passed.
Namjoon’s firm fixation on Seohyun immediately snaps to the boy who startles at
the mention of his name, and the little boy’s eyes flutter up for the briefest
of seconds.
Seeing the boy’s visage for those simple milliseconds confirms his suspicions
that he has never seen anything quite like the youth before. His eyes are wide,
terrified, and deliciously expressive in a nonstandard kind of way. His nose
slopes down to carve a cute, button base, and his lips are ample and generous
in size. There’s nothing too striking about the boy in the eyes of an outside
stranger, as his appearance is boyish and honestly nothing compared to Sojin.
However, Namjoon finds the innocence the boy emits simply delicious. The boy’s
quick movement causes a fray of his fringe to poke at his eyes, and Namjoon is
entirely captivated.
Jimin finds himself equally hypnotized by the almost alarming vision of beauty
sitting diagonally from him, and he wants to stare at the handsome man for
more, but he’s terribly shy and he can’t handle so much intensity directed to
him at once.
So in a split second, the face is gone and Namjoon is left staring at the crown
of the boy’s timid head, ducking himself back into the former, submissive
position he had assumed before.
“Oh, honey, Jimin doesn’t need an introduction. They won’t be seeing each other
much anyway, so what’s the bother?”
Namjoon frowns as Jimin’s shoulders sag just a little more than they already
were, and the CEO clears his throat.
“If he’s going to be my step-brother I think I have the right to become
friendly with him. Isn’t that right, Jimin-ah? How old are you?”
Seohyun casts the young boy a sharp glower as the boy raises his head again,
this time slowly. He turns to his mother as if asking for permission and she
nudges him, whispering, “Answer his question!” in which Jimin nods. He looks so
completely intimidated and nervous and Namjoon drinks it up, his hand
unknowingly grabbing onto his knee in anticipation.
“J-Jimi—”
“First person, Jimin!” His mother scolds, and at that moment Namjoon sees
through the mother and son as if they are made of glass.
Overbearing. Emotionally manipulative. Controlling.
Innocent. Child-like. Little.
“I-I am…...E-eighteen years old,” he stutters, looking to his mother once again
for feedback. He’d done well, hadn’t he? Last time he introduced himself, he
accidentally said he was eighty years old! This time he got it right and he is
proud, but Seohyun merely scoffs and turns her piercing gaze to Namjoon.
“I apologize for his speech impediment. It’s a habit he—”
“Do you not like sweets, Jimin? Have you tried the raspberry tart? It’s my
favorite.”
The entire room falls silent as Namjoon interrupts Seohyun to pose the
question. Byunghun makes a noise of suspicion while Seohyun splutters, looking
to her fiance for help. Sojin watches the scene quietly, not interrupting nor
excusing herself out.
“M-mommy says not t-to eat anything h-here…”
“Mommy never said such a thing, Jimin. Of course you’re allowed to eat,”
Seohyun bites, snatching the tongs from the dessert plate and placing a tart on
his own.
That is a lie, Jimin knows it is. He remembers precisely what his mommy had
told him to do, and that was to keep your arms at your sides and do not touch
anything unless mommy tells you to.
But he supposes that this is an exception to the rule because his mommy put it
on his plate! “Oh, thank you mommy!” Jimin coos, happily reaching for his fork
and digging into the treat. Namjoon has a feast of his own as the little teen
boy spoons the chocolate raspberry tart in between his plump, juicy lips,
smacking them together at the creaminess of the sweet. The fact that Jimin is
his soon-to-be stepbrother does not occur to Namjoon as he pores over the boy
ravishing the tart. Or, maybe it does, but the taboo of it all excites him to
the very core.
Eighteen years old, though? He looks fifteen. How can a fully grown teenager
look so cherubic?
Namjoon almost misses the conversation Sojin and Byunghun have in the midst of
watching the boy try to wipe the blur of chocolate on his mouth with the back
of his hand. Namjoon just wants to reach over the table and quite possibly lick
the smudges of cocoa off with his tongue, wondering if his skin is as decadent
as the chocolate itself.
“—we hit it off quite well, Dr. Kim. He asked me on a date this coming
Thursday.”
Jimin’s hand stills as he wipes his mouth, eyes darting from Sojin to Namjoon.
He doesn’t know why but the thought of the handsome, blonde haired god going on
a date with the pretty girl next to him is upsetting to the poor boy. They are
such a beautiful couple and of course the man likes her! She’s wearing a lovely
dress, after all. It beats his own white, long sleeved sweater and black slacks
by a million trillion times.
“See, son? What have I told you, huh? I know just your style,” Byunghun, the
scary man, bellows. Jimin finds everyone taller than himself scary because they
can easily overpower him like the bullies in school. But for some odd reason,
he doesn’t think Namjoon is scary at all.
“So where are you taking her, Namjoon-ah?” His mommy asks, and Jimin is
ignorant to the jealous timbre in her voice.
Namjoon, however, catches it.
“I thought a simple dinner date would be appropriate for the first day.”
Dinners are boring, Jimin thinks, absent-mindedly pouting into his empty plate.
His mommy always makes him eat vegetables and rice when he likes candies and
juices the best. But mommy always threatens to call his daddy if he doesn’t
obey and he doesn’t want that, does he? No, of course he doesn’t.
“—that way we can get to know each other a bit more, since we only had a couple
minutes to mingle before we were escorted here. I don’t even know of her
occupation as of right now,” Namjoon says, tearing his eyes from the adorable
boy across the table to give the beautiful woman beside him a smile.
“I’m studying to become a lawyer in Seoul University,” Sojin answers, though
her tone is not gaudy at all. She sounds modest and humble, and Namjoon finds
himself unconsciously patting her slim thigh underneath the table.
“That’s a lovely occupation, Sojin. How long have you been in the field?”
Namjoon zones out from the conversation again, focusing his attention on Jimin.
The boy looks visibly bored by the topic of the conversation, but his pose has
once more assumed the previous, submissive one from before. Namjoon has an itch
to fill the boy’s plate with cookies and sweets, just to watch him chew,
swallow, and lick around his fork again. But the table is simply far too wide
and he would have to circle the perimeter to reach the adorable fox.
“Oh, has it come to the time already? Dear, it’s eight o’clock. We must begin
the ceremony!” Seohyun cries, throwing up her hands and ushering both her
fiance and her son out of their chairs. Namjoon slips out of his and he helps
Sojin up, to which she flashes one of her brilliant smiles.
Standing up, Namjoon can visualize just how tiny Jimin actually is. The way he
holds himself—feet together, hands clasped in front of him, his head
bowed—screams submission and it makes him even smaller than he is. He must not
have gone through his growth spurt yet for his head only goes up to Namjoon’s
shoulder, and it makes the boy that much more irresistible.
“Shall we go?” Sojin asks, linking her dainty elbow in his and giving him a
huge, doe eyed smile.
Heels and all, Sojin is almost the same height as Namjoon.
“This way,” Namjoon responds, guiding her out of the dining room. Jimin and his
mother are already gone, and Namjoon is admittedly disappointed.
The ceremony is a tedious process to get through because Namjoon’s endured it
so many times in the past. It rejects all the normal ideals of marriage
ceremonies as there are no seats in which the guests can make themselves
comfortable, no generic wedding music, and no flower girls (though Namjoon
would have loved to see Jimin shyly stroll down the aisle wearing a pale pink
dress). Speaking of Jimin, Namjoon has been scanning the entire ballroom for
fifteen minutes now and he hasn’t seen the little thing anywhere. Sojin seems
to catch that his attention is elsewhere, and she asks if he needs a break.
“Yes, I think some fresh air will do me good. I’ll be right back,” he promises,
giving her hand a tender squeeze before weaving through the crowd of onlookers.
Namjoon is certain that Jimin is not in the ballroom, because he searched for
ages and there are no signs of him. He checks the dining room, kitchen, the
den, the piano room, and all the other excess rooms on the first floor of the
mansion, but the curious little thing is nowhere to be found. He takes the
staircase that is nearer towards the back of the mansion since the main
staircases are currently being used as a place to take photos. Namjoon climbs
the stairs onto the second floor, and checks seven guest bedrooms before he
hears a ghost of a cough come from down the hallway.
Namjoon, again, checks the rooms but comes across one that is suspiciously
locked. He rattles the doorknob before faintly knocking on the white door. He
holds his breath as he hears the soft padding of tiny feet on polished wood and
the door clicks open not a moment later.
“Mommy—”
Jimin gasps as he realizes that the figure in the hallway is indeed not his
mommy, but the handsome god-like man from the dinner table. He squeaks as the
tall man’s presence intimidates him to step back, letting Namjoon take one
forward.
“Hey, Jimminie. Mind if I come in?”
Jimin blushes furiously at the nickname and he nods, watching as Namjoon enters
the lonely guest room and fills the entire space with his strangely dominating,
yet comfortable aura. He feels his knees buckle on instinct and he suddenly has
the urge to pee.
“Why aren’t you watching your mommy get married, Jimin?” Namjoon asks, and
Jimin shyly bunches the hem of his white sweater in his tiny fists. He’s not
watching his mommy get married because his mommy told him to stay here and to
not come out until she fetched him, but he couldn’t form the words in his
mouth.
Namjoon shuts the door behind him and turns the light on before crouching in
front of the apprehensive boy. His large, beautiful eyes waver from staring at
the ground to glancing at Namjoon in awe, and Namjoon feels giddy inside.
“Do you want to watch the marriage, Minnie?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin’s eyes
gleam with renewed energy.
“Yes, ChimChim wants to watch!” The boy blurts out, and Namjoon lets out a
delighted laugh at the delectable teen in front of him.
“Namjoon hyung will take you, then,” he says, straightening up. He offers a
hand for Jimin to take, but the boy seems to have become wary again.
“M-mommy said ChimChim h-has to stay in this room until s-s-she gets him,” he
bleats, eyes entirely too sad for such a precious face.
“But I’m your brother now, ChimChim. Shouldn’t we experience our parents
getting married together? We will be spending an awfully large amount of time
with each other now, after all.”
Jimin tilts his head to the side cutely, and Namjoon resists the urge to pounce
on the boy right then and there.
“B-b-brother?” He repeats, as if he doesn’t believe in what he’d just heard. It
was too good to be true! All of his classmates have brothers and sisters who
drive them places and buy them sweets and Jimin had always been jealous of
them. Oh, this was such good news!
“Yes, Jimin. I’m your brother from now on. Have you ever had a sibling?”
Jimin shakes his head almost violently in excitement, but frowns when he
remembers back to what his mommy had said before the party.
“M-mommy said Jimin was going to meet the C…..CO….COU? CUO? Of step-daddy’s big
hospital.”
Namjoon beams at the simply darling image of Jimin trying to figure out what
the word was.
“Yes, Jimin, I’m the CEO of Byunghun. But I’m also your brother, so you have to
listen to my word as well, alright?”
“C-CEO? Mommy said that w-was a very high job…..J-Jimin listens to y-
you…...too…..”
Namjoon notices the drop in spirit of the boy’s tone and he kneels before him
again, this time reaching over to gently cup Jimin’s tiny shoulder in his hand.
“Jimin, I will never ask you to do anything that I don’t think will make you
grow as a person and learn from it. I can assure you that everything I ask of
you will help you become a good boy, so don’t be scared of me, alright?”
The older man rubs his thumb along the bone of Jimin’s shoulder, but it catches
on something along the way. Interested, he stirs to move the fabric aside, but
Jimin’s already pulling out of his grip to fetch something from the guest bed.
Namjoon pulls himself up onto his feet and dusts his knees, grinning when Jimin
returns with a stuffed bunny that wears old and tattered.
“Are you ready to go?” Namjoon asks, holding out a large hand to the short boy.
“Yes,” Jimin mumbles almost inaudibly, and takes the CEO’s hand in his.
Namjoon’s hand feels firm and rough from use in his own plush ones and he
unknowingly smiles, following his new older brother down the hallway. At the
sight of all the fancily dressed adults he hugs Kookie the Rabbit (named after
his very best friend) closer to his side and squeezes Namjoon’s hand. Adults
make him feel little but not in the way that he likes.
But Namjoon. Namjoon makes Jimin feel very, very Little but in a way that numbs
his entire mind.
“Can you see, Minnie?” Namjoon asks once they’ve woven into the bustling crowd
of adults, and Jimin snuggles into Kookie as he shakes his head. No, he can’t
see his mommy getting married because there are too many tall people in the
way. The handsome CEO starts unbuttoning his suit and Jimin’s eyes widen,
feeling scandalized at the simple, innocent act. Namjoon shrugs out of his
expensive looking jacket and drapes it on a lone chair before crouching in
front of Jimin. The young boy finds himself unable to do anything but gape at
the way his crisp, white dress shirt stretches across his solid back muscles.
The need to pee returns and he would also very much like a glass of orange
juice to moisten his dry mouth.
“Hyung will let you get on his back, Minnie. To help you see.”
“J-Jiminnie is a h-heavy boy,” he frowns, repeating the words his daddy told
him and clutching Kookie in fear.
“What? Why would you think say such a thing? Jimin, do you like piggy back
rides?”
Yes, he does! Very much so, they remind him of when he was a little little boy
and his daddy would always give him piggy back rides and he enjoyed them fully.
“Yes, Jimin likes them a lot,” he admits.
“Hyung is a strong man, Jimin. If you get on hyung’s back, I’ll give you piggy
back rides whenever you want!”
The offer is irresistible to the young nymph so he climbs onto Namjoon’s broad,
sculpted back and wraps his little arms around the older man’s neck. Namjoon
stands up and Jimin hooks his legs around his brother’s hips, squealing when
Namjoon does a little spin.
The bubbles of laughter that Namjoon has the liberty of hearing straight from
the source and into his ear make him smile uncontrollably, warmth heating his
supposedly ice cold heart. The elbows that are bent round the boy’s knees to
keep him up hitch, lifting Jimin up so he’s even more comfortably settled on
Namjoon’s back.
“There’s mommy! She’s in a white dress! It’s so pretty,” Jimin sighs, settling
his head on his soft bicep, gazing lovingly at his mother. Even though she is
strict with him and doesn’t let him eat as many chocolates as he pleases, he
still loves her. She is an angel compared to his biological father.
“Do you like the dress, Jimin?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods as best as he
could with his chin tucked on his arm.
“Yes, I do, it’s beautiful. I had a dress like that but—”
Jimin’s entire body stiffens as he realizes what he just said. He just admitted
that he owns dresses! But oh, his daddy burned all his dresses a year ago and
his mommy refused to buy him one since. Still, he trembles at the thought of
his new brother thinking he was a pixie like all the other boys at school do.
“I-I mean…….J-Jiminnie doesn’t mean it! He doesn’t o-own dresses, they are for
girls!”
Jimin can’t help the lone, fat tear that spills from his eye, agonized by the
idea of the CEO leaving him because of the simple mistake. Namjoon turns his
head and Jimin gulps at the close proximity of the elder’s handsome, carved
face. He could see each and every eyelash framing his eyes and on Namjoon, they
look spectacular. On him, they look girly.
“That’s a shame. I really wanted to see your dress, Minnie.”
Jimin loses his grip on Kookie in shock, not expecting those words to come out
of Namjoon’s mouth at all. He barely registers the woman in front of them
picking up his stuffed animal and handing it to Namjoon in confusion. He’s too
busy reeling his memory back to confirm that Namjoon had said what he thought
he said.
“Y-you want to see m-my dresses?”
“Of course I do! Does Jiminnie like to wear them?”
Namjoon has a hard time willing his boner to stay calm, because the thought of
Jimin in a short, pink dress and the heat of the boy on his back is making his
imagination careen into unfamiliar territory.
“Yes, but C-ChimChim no wear his dresses in a long time because….” Jimin bites
his lip as he fumbles for a lie. His daddy made him promise years and years ago
to never tattle-tell because boys who did that went to hell. “.....b-because he
lost them.”
“You lost your dresses?” Namjoon asks, concerned with the sweet boy’s response.
He knows for a fact that the boy is lying because he’d unknowingly clenched his
body around the CEO’s just a little tighter, and the stutter that occurs only
when he is distressed makes it evident.
“Y-y-yes.”
“Then the only solution here is for me to buy you more, Jimin. If hyung buys
you new, prettier dresses, will ChimChim wear them?”
“Oh, yes! ChimChim will wear them good! And Jimin won’t lose them this time!”
They make a promise to go out to the mall this upcoming weekend when both
Namjoon and Jimin are free, and Jimin’s smile outshines even the brightest of
supernovas.
The wedding ceremony goes on for another thirty minutes, and by then Jimin is
dozing off on Namjoon’s back. Although Namjoon is a built man, carrying a 18
year old teen, no matter how light, is no easy deed so he returns to the chair
that he’d strewn his jacket over and nudges Jimin awake.
“J-Joonie?” Jimin mumbles sleepily, lifting his head and exposing his warm,
pink cheek that has crease marks from Namjoon’s shirt.
“I’m here, darling. Can Jimin stand on his feet for two seconds?”
Pouting and a little disappointed, Jimin lands on his dainty feet and watches
drowsily as Namjoon sits on the chair. But he isn’t expecting for the elder to
promptly pull Jimin onto his lap, with both thin legs resting on either side of
Namjoon’s hip. They dangle from the backside of the chair and his red cheeks
blossom even more crimson at the closeness of it all. They’re linked in the
chest and his bum is directly on top of Namjoon’s down there area. However, the
fatigued boy is too tired to do much of anything so he settles snugly into the
expanse of his brother’s body and closes his eyes, drifting off into dream
world again.
 
 
 
Jimin awakes in an unfamiliar bed bathed in complete silence. It’s unsettling
to him because the last time his eyes were open, he was surrounded by the
manly, intoxicating smell of Namjoon. But now he is alone and he’s scared
because it’s dark and there’s no light coming from the drapes or from the
hallway.
Little feet slip out from beneath the covers and he slides off, whining at the
cold, hardwood floor. Kookie is sitting on the foot of the bed so he grabs him
and slowly, unsurely, walks to the door and peeks out. The hallway is
absolutely void of any light and sound. The ceremony must be over, he absently
thinks. But oh, where is his mommy? Where’s Namjoon?
Said man is brushing his teeth and washing up for the night. It’s 1AM and Sojin
is already tucked into bed in his room on the third floor. He rarely uses it
because he tries to keep as far away from his father as possible but the man
saved and decorated it for the days Namjoon stayed the night.
His thoughts wander to the little angel that he’d tucked into bed after the
wedding was over. He misses the warmth that the boy offered him but it was
getting late so Namjoon helped him into bed. He muses that the boy didn’t get
to wash up and dress into more comfortable clothes but he didn’t have a heart
to wake him up from his slumber.
He towels his wet face and slips on his boxers and sweatpants before turning
the lights off and stepping outside. An unbelievable urge to check on Jimin and
engrane his cherubic face into his memory one last time overwhelms him and
before he can stop himself, he’s on his way to the second floor.
Namjoon is descending the stairs when he hears little puffs of sniffling in the
dark. He blindly grazes the wall and sweeps his fingers across the wallpaper
until they come in contact with a switch, and he turns it on. The switch is in
the form of a knob that controls the level of light that shines from the
chandelier on the ceiling, so he turns it to the most minimum. A dull glow
emits from the crystals above him and there, he spots a little figure hunched
at the end of the hallway.
“Jimin?” He calls softly, and the noise startles the young thing. His head
whips up and whimpers as Namjoon approaches him. “What are you doing out here?”
“I-I-I wanted t-to find mommy’s r-room but I g-got lost in the d-dark,” he
sobs, hugging his stuffed animal closer to his cowering body.
Namjoon frowns in pity as he recalls Seohyun leaving the house with Byunghun to
spend the night elsewhere. He crouches next to Jimin and places a soothing hand
on the boy’s quivering shoulder, and Jimin leans into the touch.
“Do you want me to tuck you into bed?” He asks, and the boy shyly peers up at
him from beneath his wet eyelashes.
“I-I want to see my mommy,” he mumbles, pointed toes curling in as goosebumps
paint his arms. There’s a cold draft in the hall and he’s cold in only his
sweater and dress pants.
“Why don’t I help you wash up, and then we can go see mommy?”
Jimin ponders this for a quick second before nodding and taking Namjoon’s hand.
The older man helps him up and Jimin softly pads after him as Namjoon leads him
to a large bathroom right next to Jimin’s room.
“Where are your sleeping clothes?” Namjoon asks, distractedly grabbing a spare
toothbrush from the cabinet and wetting it.
“In my suitcase,” Jimin murmurs, watching in awe as Namjoon’s arms flex
underneath his soft skin. The tan color is a beautiful compliment to the white
shirt he’s wearing and Jimin appreciates the view of his brother’s a bit too
much.
“Here, start brushing your teeth while hyung gets your pajamas, okay?”
Jimin nods and clumsily takes the toothbrush before sticking it in his mouth
and sleepily moving it up and down. The herbal toothpaste stings his tongue
more than his usual bubble gum flavored one but he endures it, waiting until
Namjoon arrives with his blue pajamas before spitting the foamy residue out.
After Namjoon helps him clean his face, he asks Jimin to take his clothes off
and he shyly obliges. However, Namjoon makes quick work of it and dresses him
into his pajamas in record time.
The promise of taking him to his mother long forgotten, Jimin follows Namjoon
to his cold, bare room and scrambles into his bed. Namjoon tucks the blanket
under his chin and Jimin pouts.
“P-please don’t leave,” he whispers, pleading with his eyes to get his brother
to stay. He doesn’t like how the room is so cold and not his, and he’s scared
of sleeping alone.
“Hyung has to sleep too,” Namjoon says, and Jimin doesn’t catch the amused tone
in his voice.
“J-Jiminnie’s scared, he doesn’t want to sleep by h-himself.”
Jimin stretches out a tiny, soft hand and encircles it around Namjoon’s index
finger. Namjoon softens at the touch and shakes the thought of how wrong it is
to snuggle with your new younger brother, and climbs in next to Jimin.
“You win,” he fake grumbles, and Jimin smiles as Namjoon pulls the blanket over
the both of them. The newfound warmth is heavenly to Jimin and before Namjoon
can do so much as blink, the boy’s out like a light.
 
 
 
 
“Oppa? Oppa, what are you doing here? Wake up.”
Namjoon sighs into the thick weft of hair in his face as he cracks an eye open.
Sojin is standing there at the foot of the bed, looking like the image of a
goddess with her bed hair braided messily into a fashionable style. Normally,
Namjoon would take a second or two to appreciate the beauty that is so willing
to be taken by him, but he can only think about pulling the cover over his
head. He wants to spend the entire morning breathing in Jimin’s scent and
caressing his soft, supple skin.
But oh? What’s this?
The tip of his left thumb is moist in a hot cavern and he wriggles it to feel
teeth clash on the nail.
Jimin is sucking on his thumb. It’s barely in his mouth and the boy’s not
suckling but it’s still there.
Utterly in awe by the warm sensation, Namjoon asks Sojin to give him a moment
to adjust to the morning light and she leaves with an annoyed grumble. Namjoon
barely has the thought to care as he plunges his thumb a centimeter deeper into
Jimin’s mouth and the boy unconsciously accepts it, his red, plump lips
puckering over it ever so slightly. Astounded by the sliminess of his tongue
against the pad of his thumb and the sensation of hot saliva soaking into his
skin, he feels his cock twitch in his sweatpants as it hardens ever so
slightly. The overall softness and intimacy of the situation makes his whole
body tingle and he lets out a breathy moan, unable to control himself. He
refrains from making any kind of movement in fear of Jimin waking up, but—
“Mmmphh…..”
The little groan sends vibrations along his thumb and Namjoon shuts his eyes,
feeling precum uncomfortably smear along the inside of his boxers. He’s about
to let out a moan that will surely wake the boy up when Jimin does something
that he swears he did just to make the all powerful CEO squirm and cry in his
locked position.
Jimin curls into himself as his own tiny hand flies up to his face, but the
intruding hand blocks him from reaching it. Instead, Jimin grasps onto
Namjoon’s pinky and continues to suckle on his thumb. But that isn’t what makes
Namjoon moan like a needy fucking whore. Jimin, in the midst of coiling tighter
into himself in a fetal position, bumps his ass against Namjoon’s erection.
Namjoon can feel the heat emanating from the boy’s round globes and he does
everything in his will to resist rutting up against it. The warmth on his
thumb, the heat from Jimin’s body, and the grinding of the boy’s ass proves too
much for Namjoon and he’s about to just fucking cum any second when—
“J-Joonie?”
Namjoon chokes as Jimin uses his leverage on his pinky to pull the hand in his
mouth away, the quick action causing the boy to jerk back and knock into
Namjoon’s dick again. A gasp rips through Jimin’s dry, morning throat as the
realization of what he is doing dawns upon him.
“I-I’m sorry! I’m s-s-sorry Jiminnie didn’t know he was sucking o-on your
thumb—”
“It’s okay. Jimin. Please stop moving.”
The boy stills and the air is tense as Namjoon wills his morning wood to die
down just a tiny bit, but the boy is whimpering and Namjoon is so hard and
fuck, what’s happening?
“W-what’s wrong? I d-didn’t mean to suck on y-your thumb, mommy t-t-told me not
to but Jiminnie h-had a nightmare….”
“You know, if you tell your dreams to someone they won’t come true,” Namjoon
grits. “So why don’t you tell me what happened in your dream so it won’t happen
in real life?”
The boy squirms as he thinks it all makes sense, since he did hear that dreams
don’t come true if you say it out loud once from a classmate in elementary
school. He has a good memory!
“O-okay. Well, C-ChimChim was in his room having tea time w-with his dolls and
his room was so big and pink and had lots of frilly things and there even was a
big white bed with a curtain! But Jiminnie was playing and Kookie was there and
it was really fun but then the walls started melting and he….he……” Jimin closes
his teary eyes as he wills the scary visions to go away. The thumb that he
embarrassingly sucked on for the entire night rubs against his lower lip in a
comforting gesture and he exhales hotly as he continues. “He tried to run away
but his dress got caught on the table and Kookie tried to help him but he was
all burnt and his dress catched on fire and the whole place started burning and
it was really hot and it hurt, Joonie.”
Namjoon, his boner having settled down in the midst of the boy’s frantic
explanation, turns the teen around so he’s facing the CEO and he wraps his
strong, tan arms around Jimin’s quaking frame. Jimin’s tears soak into
Namjoon’s white shirt and he imagines them to be salty and delicious. He
massages Jimin’s slight back and kisses the top of the boy’s head.
“Oh, Jimin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to have such a horrible dream,” he
breathes, sighing when Jimin’s nose pokes at his Adam’s apple and a hot cast of
condensation settles there. “But now that you told hyung, it shouldn’t ever
happen in real life. Remember my promise from last night? I said I will buy you
even prettier dresses than the ones you lost, so don’t worry. Shh, stop
crying.”
Jimin squeezes his eyes and the last drops of tears trickle out. The deep
timbre of Namjoon’s voice is oh, so comforting to him and he feels a nostalgic
warmth settle onto his body, from head to toe. It feels like his daddy is with
him again before he lost his mind, and he squeezes Namjoon’s finger in an
affectionate gesture.
“Better?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin giggles at the vibration of the older man’s
throat against his nose.
“Yes. A lot better,” he sniffles, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep
once more.
 
 
 
                                       ⊗
 
 
 
They go shopping that Thursday. Namjoon leaves Jimin with a promise that he’ll
be back to get off work early and pick him up from school. His school, Namjoon
learns, is one of the most prestigious liberal arts academies in Korea and he’s
surprised that Jimin attends such a high status institute. Not that he
underestimates Jimin’s intellectual ability—he’s just uneasy that he doesn’t
get along with the snobby kids he just knows are in his class.
Namjoon pulls into the school grounds and there is a parking area in front of
the grand, glass building. There are several other cars planted randomly in the
lot as parents wait for their children to finish up with their studies. Namjoon
is inside his car, not particularly wanting or needing the attention that he
will surely get (he is a huge figure in Seoul and he is bound to be noticed in
a measly high school). He’s also certain Jimin undoubtedly does not need the
extra attention since the boy is terribly shy.
A buzz breaks the silence in the car and Namjoon checks his phone, sliding open
the Kakaotalk message from Sojin.
- i hope you haven’t forgotten our date tonight?
Shit.
Namjoon completely forgot. In the midst of getting all of his work done at the
office in advance so he has time to take Jimin out shopping, he forgot about
his date with Sojin. His thumb hovers over his smartphone in a stance to make
up an excuse for why he can’t make it, when a movement catches his eye from
outside his car window.
A group of four boys sidle down the brick staircase leading down from the
entrance of the school building. They are all pretty lofty in size, their
builds strong and figures tall. All four pull cigarettes from their pockets and
start smoking them, and Namjoon returns back to his phone.
- Sojin, I am terribly sorry but something came up with my brother and I can’t
make it. Shall we try again next week?
Students start pouring out of the building, all dressed in the uniform of navy
jackets and white sweater vests. Namjoon eyes the group of boys as they
socialize with some of the meaner looking kids exiting the school.
Jackasses, Namjoon thinks, shaking his head and letting out a yawn. Jimin
suddenly appears from the front entrance and Namjoon, having kept his eyes
locked on it ever since the school day ended, jolts in his seat and appreciates
the beautiful aura that the boy gives.
But then one of the guys in the group stomps out his cigarette and his lips
move, causing Jimin to look at him.
Namjoon opens the car door without hesitation and shuts it behind him
obnoxiously before leaning against the hood and catching Jimin’s attention. The
guys look over at the CEO and the kid has the nerve to smirk as Jimin bounds
down the stairs and heads for Namjoon.
“Joonie!” Jimin exclaims as soon as he’s within earshot distance. Namjoon, upon
hearing Jimin’s angelic voice for the first time that week, breaks into an
affectionate smile and pats the boy’s head when he’s close enough.
“Did you study well today, ChimChim?”
“Yes I did! We did an art project today as a special occasion and the teacher
said mine was the best!”
Jimin beams as Namjoon ducks down and presses a kiss to the boy’s forehead.
“Good boy,” Namjoon praises, taking Jimin’s backpack from the younger and
slinging it over his own shoulder.
“O-oh, thank you,” Jimin stutters, blushing madly.
“Jimin-ah, who are those boys over there? Are they bothering you?” Namjoon
asks, gesturing to the group of boys still hanging idly around with his eyes.
They’re visibly staring and Jimin startles when he realizes what Namjoon is
talking about.
“N-n-n-no, they…..they…..t-they’re not…..”
Namjoon frowns as Jimin looks at him with wide, frightened eyes, and the CEO
rubs the boy’s cheek comfortingly.
“It’s okay, Jimin. Please tell hyung, I won’t tell on you or anything, I just
need to know.”
Jimin shakes his head, determined not to tattle-tell because his daddy said
that was a bad thing to do.
“R-really, they d-don’t bother me at all.”
“Jimin.”
Jimin’s bowed head raises instantly at the razor sharp tone and his eyes dilate
at the look Namjoon is giving him. It’s a dark glower that has him picking at
the hem of his jacket in terror. Has he disappointed his brother? Does he know
he’s lying? Oh, what if he doesn’t want to be his brother anymore? The thought
has him in near tears because the boy has already formed a fierce attachment
with the CEO and he feels like he has disappointed him.
“I’ll give you one last chance to tell me the truth. You can keep lying to
hyung, or you can tell me what’s really going on. Your choice. I trust you,
JImin.”
Jimin hangs his head in shame as he feels the weight of Namjoon’s trust settle
in his shoulders. Should he really lie to his brother, even when he’s done so
much for him?
“Jimin will tell you the truth,” he says slowly.
“Good,” Namjoon praises, before realizing that they are attracting more stares
than necessary at this point. “Now, who are those boys and what are they doing
to you?”
The devotion to his biological father and his promise not to tattle-tell is
completely forgotten as Jimin fumbles with his shirt and starts blabbering.
“Well, t-the tall one is Hunchul and he’s in my class. H-he m-makes fun of me
and takes my things and e-eats my lunch sometimes—”
“Get in the car.”
Startled, Jimin shuts his mouth and warily looks over at Hunchul and his
friends who are discreetly watching them. Jimin trudges over to the passenger
side of Namjoon’s expensive car and bites his plump, pink lip as he debates
whether or not he’s allowed to touch the luxurious thing. He can feel his face
turn hot as he stupidly stares at the handle, but Namjoon suddenly appears
beside him and he opens the door for him. Grateful, Jimin scampers in and sits
in the plush, leather seat contentedly, waiting for Namjoon to get in as well.
But oh. What if…….what if Namjoon tells the whole school about Hunchul and get
him in trouble? Then Hunchul will get mad at him and his real daddy’s going to
get angry for tattle-telling! The naive boy doesn’t even realize that he keeps
distinguishing Namjoon and his real daddy as if the CEO is considered as one.
If only Namjoon could hear his thoughts—it would have sent his heart soaring to
the stratosphere and back.
However, Namjoon does none of that and instead swings open the door to the
drivers side and slides in. He starts the engine and Jimin watches with bated
breath as the other man drives a bit recklessly out of the parking lot and into
the road adjacent to the school. He can see Namjoon’s knuckles turn white in
strain as he grips the steering wheel with an incredible amount of force. It
isn’t until a couple minutes later that Namjoon speaks again.
“What else has he done to you?”
So Jimin tells him all about Hunchul and his friends because Namjoon doesn’t
want him to lie. He tells him about the time they poured strawberry milk on his
head because he accidentally spilled his carton on Hunchul’s backpack. He tells
Namjoon about the day when Hunchul destroyed his painting just because he felt
like it and was bored. And the time when Hunchul’s mother came to school and
screamed at Jimin for distracting her son from his studies because he wore
eyeliner once. And the time when Hunchul and his gang stole his uniform from
the gym locker and Jimin had to run lots of laps around the school to get a
spare from the gym teacher. And the constant names they call him: faggot,
pixie, fairy, princess, fag baby…..the girls are scary too because sometimes
they say sexual things to him and laugh when he blushes and ask why he’s
turning red when he’s a fag. When Namjoon asks if there are particular students
who pick on him most, Jimin shrugs and admits that a lot of them do mean things
to him because they don’t want to be picked on themselves.
“Do you do anything to stop them?” Namjoon asks, and he sounds weary. Jimin
clutches his thin knees as he watches the landscape whir past through the
window.
“No. Jimin will get hurt anyway. Mommy told Jimin not to do things or they will
get angry.”
“So your mother knows about this situation.”
“I-I don’t know….”
The two arrive at a mall considerably far away from their homes and Namjoon has
to wake Jimin up from his brief slumber. Jimin follows Namjoon sleepily and
wishes he had Kookie when they step foot into the chilled, expansive mall.
Namjoon immediately leads Jimin to the top floors and Jimin is intimidated by
the tons of salespeople who desperately try to get the attention of the famous
and filthy rich CEO who stands out even behind his thick, black-rimmed glasses.
“Please try this cologne sample!” A woman chirps, and Jimin is grabbed by the
wrist and stopped next to a Givenchy stand. The saleswoman brings the bottle up
to his nose and Jimin scrunches his face in overwhelmed distaste. The cologne
hurts his nose and makes his head hurt because it is so strong.
Namjoon, realizing that his newfound obsession is not walking obediently behind
him, whirls around and fumes as the woman waves the sample stick around the
poor boy’s face. He stomps towards her and snatches Jimin’s wrist from her
grasp, sending her a look of utter revulsion.
“How dare you lay a finger on him,” he spits, ushering JImin out before the
woman can respond. Usually he would have been a lot more dramatic if
salespeople intruded into his privacy, but he noticed that his temper is a lot
more subdued whenever Jimin is around. He doesn’t want to frighten the boy with
his full scale of fury—or, at least, not just yet.
Jimin finds his racing heart appease into a gentle thrum at the feeling of
Namjoon’s long, firm fingers intertwined between his own. He finds it much
easier to follow the man through the mall because his short little legs aren’t
made to keep up with Namjoon’s long strides. Namjoon rubs comforting circles on
the back of Jimin’s hand and he sighs happily, focusing his attention wholly on
the soothing sensation of Namjoon’s thumb rubbing against his skin.
They arrive at a frilly, absolutely charming boutique on one of the top floors
and Jimin is enchanted by all the delicate pieces hanging from the racks and on
mannequins. His lips fall open as he sees a beautifully dressed girl bound up
to them and welcome the two to the shop.
“Oppa, who are you shopping for? Your girlfriend? Sister?” The cute girl asks,
running her tender looking hands down her fluffy, lacy, pink dress that looks
awfully similar to the ones draped in the display.
“We’re actually shopping for Jiminnie over here. Aren’t we?” Namjoon asks,
giving Jimin a gentle, encouraging nudge.
Jimin, a bit intimidated by being in such a store, feels vulnerable and stares
at the store lady with wide eyes. But she doesn’t brush him off like he thought
she would. Instead, she giggles and links elbows with Jimin before leading him
to a section with lots of lace and pink and purples.
“This dress will look perfect on you!”
Jimin bites his lip furiously as the petite girl grabs a fancy clothes hanger
with a lovely lolita-styled pleated skirt. It’s white with pink accents, long
sleeved, and flares out in the most beautiful way. He adores it but finds
himself unable to express himself because he feels shy and embarrassed.
“Jimin, do you not like it?” Namjoon asks, suddenly appearing behind the boy.
The dress is dainty and perfect and Namjoon can already envision Jimin in it,
playing with his dolls wearing knee high white socks and pink heels……
“C-ChimChim likes it….but….”
“But what, dear?”
“W-when will I wear it? I can’t wear it to school or outside because people
will think Jiminnie is weird…”
Namjoon smiles patiently as he smoothes down Jimin’s messy, silky locks of
hair. “You can wear it at home, or hyung’s home if that makes you feel more
comfortable. There’s no one at my house except the maids, but they won’t bother
you. I can take you to my workplace and I will make certain that every single
staff member treats you like the princess you are. Or we can take a faraway
vacation and you can wear dresses every single day if you so choose to. So for
those occasions, hyung will buy you pretty dresses, okay? Even prettier than
the ones you lost.”
Convinced, Jimin shyly nods and accepts the dress that the delicate little girl
hands him.
“By the way, this is Hyeri. She’s a good friend of mine and I know her
personally so you don’t have to be so tense, Jimin,” Namjoon laughs, gently
stroking the boy’s soft jawline.
“O-okay. Oh, but these are so pricey, Joonie,” Jimin frowns, pouting down at
the price tag hanging solemnly on the dress.
“Today is free day! All dresses are free as long as you look good in them,”
Hyeri interrupts, catching on to how the boy’s mind worked. “What size are you,
Jiminnie? Unnie will help you choose!”
Taken aback by the use of pronoun, Jimin startles in his spot for a second
before erupting in a face-splitting smile and looking up at Namjoon with the
most sparkling, proud eyes the CEO has ever seen. He looks so absolutely
angelic and Namjoon resists the overpowering urge to lean down and kiss that
smile from his mouth.
“Can I go with…..with unnie?” Jimin asks, and Namjoon allows permission. As he
watches the two squeal over the most handsome of dresses, Namjoon ponders over
the boy’s obvious gender confusion. He’s never called Namjoon hyung before and
he sounded so comfortable and at home calling Hyeri unnie. He wonders if Jimin
sees himself as a girl and if the case is more serious than merely liking the
color pink and favoring dresses to slacks. But he decides not to assume things
for that would simply be unacceptable behavior.
“Oppa, we’re going to try these on!” Hyeri yells behind a mound of fluttery,
pink fabric. Jimin giggles as he follows the short-haired girl to the dressing
rooms at the back, and Hyeri slides open the curtain of one of the
compartments. And because she is one of Namjoon’s closest childhood
friends—she’s been in his life since high school—he allows her to step behind
the curtain as well and help Jimin into the dresses.
Although Jimin’s body isn’t the perfect shape to wear such waist-cinching, form
fitting dresses, he still looks absolutely breathtaking when he walks out in a
gorgeous pale pink, pleated skirt dress. Namjoon chokes on his spit as Jimin
bashfully looks up at him through his long, long lashes, and the CEO, for the
first time in ages, blushes. He hides it with a cough however, and nods as he
scans the boy from head to toe appraisingly.
“So gorgeous, Jiminnie. You are so beautiful in that dress. Can you spin for
oppa?”
Jimin gasps as Namjoon uses the term that he’s been dying to say ever since
Sojin called him that at their house. He blushes furiously as he spins in
place, his mind reeling and replaying the way Namjoon sounded when he said
oppa.
“We’re definitely going to get that one. Actually, these are all the same
sizes, right? Hyeri, can you pack those up for us? We’ll take all of it. Jimin-
ah, do you want some pretty heels, too?”
Jimin is floating on clouds as he follows Namjoon to the shoe racks, feeling
terribly shy again. It all vanishes when Namjoon hugs him from behind, wrapping
his sturdy, long arms around the boy’s tiny frame and resting his chin on
Jimin’s shoulder.
“Pick one, Jimin. Or pick all, I don’t care. Oppa will buy the whole store for
you, if you want.”
“N-no, Jiminnie doesn’t n-need all that.”
“You’re right, we should try another store too. Maybe some other day? Would you
like to go shopping again with me?”
“Yes! I like shopping with oppa,” Jimin says timidly, leaning back against the
older man’s strong chest.
“Namjoon oppa! I have everything packed for you. Did you want a pair of shoes,
too? Unnie, these are really pretty and we only have a couple left.”
“No thanks Hyeri, I think Jiminnie’s had enough for today. We’ll come back,
alright?” Namjoon pulls Jimin an arms length away and rubs his jawline again,
appreciating the softness of the skin there. “Can ChimChim wait for oppa
outside of the store? I need to say something to Hyeri for a quick moment.”
“Okay, Jimin will wait,” he nods, promptly exiting the store and distracting
himself with staring at the towers of buildings peeking from outside the
windows. Namjoon turns to Hyeri and hands her his titanium card, expressing his
gratitude for handling Jimin so well after the transaction is complete.
“Are you ready to go, ChimChim?” Namjoon asks once he’s finished paying and
finds the boy crouched on the floor and tying his shoes.
“Yes, I just…..” For some reason, the older man’s presence has made Jimin
forget how to do such a simple task as tying his shoelaces and he fumbles with
the strings. His cheeks flush as he feels Namjoon staring at him and he
punishes himself in his head for forgetting such a menial task. His mommy would
be so disappointed! She taught him how to do it years and years ago. He’s just
about to give up and ask Namjoon for help when the CEO places his hand on the
crown of Jimin’s head and affectionately strokes his hair, giving Jimin the
push to recollect himself and steady his trembling fingers. It takes a few more
tries but once he finally gets his shoelaces tied, he straightens up and beams
proudly at his oppa, who gives him a satisfied smile back.
“Good boy. Do you want something to drink, ChimChim?”
Jimin nods.
“Use your words, baby,” Namjoon says, using his free hand to capture Jimin’s in
a casual hold. Jimin blushes intensely at the pet name, finding an odd sort of
attraction to the word slipping from Namjoon’s tongue. It’s a nickname that
only his mommy and daddy use and it sounds so right coming from the CEO. It
sounds like nectar and he wants to hear him say it again.
“Yes, Jiminnie would like something to drink,” he smiles, following Namjoon
down to the food court. However, the older man seems unimpressed and he
suggests having dinner at a restaurant. When Namjoon asks what Jimin wants for
dinner, the younger just shrugs and looks to the taller man to make the
decision for him.
The two end up at a pasta restaurant closer to their houses and Jimin happily
swings his feet underneath the table as they wait for their food to arrive.
They’re sitting next to each other in the dim booth because he wanted to be
closer to the younger boy. Namjoon has something in his mind that he wants to
bring up but he decides to hold it off until they finish eating, for he’s
afraid Jimin will lose his appetite.
“So, ChimChim, what are you studying in HongSeok Academy? It’s for students who
want to go into fine arts, right?”
Jimin nods excitedly, setting his glass of water down a little too roughly that
Namjoon is apprehensive about the boy spilling it.
“Jimin is studying dance!”
Namjoon almost coughs up the tea that he has in his mouth because dance? This
cherubic boy is into dance?
“Really? What kind of dance?”
“Hmm, I like all kinds. I tried tap dancing, ballroom, ballet, even belly
dancing.” Namjoon gulps as he envisions Jimin in a low rise flowy skirt,
shaking his hips and making the bells tied around his waist jingle along with
the rhythm. “But Jiminnie is specializing in hip hop!”
“Oh? That is…..surprising. I bet you’re fantastic, though. Can you show oppa
sometime?”
Jimin fumbles with his uniform jacket that he still has on, and reddens visibly
at the request. “O-oh, C-ChimChim isn’t that good.”
“I doubt it, Jimin. You’re too humble for your own good. If your school has a
showcase in the future, invite oppa, okay? I’ll be there to give you flowers
and take pictures.”
Like his daddy? Jimin asked his daddy to come to his dance showcase multiple
times in the past but he was always too busy to attend. He’s gotten used to the
rejection by now but the fact that Namjoon wants to come just makes his heart
soar.
“R-really? O-okay, but oppa can’t film when Jiminnie messes up.”
Namjoon laughs as he takes another sip of his tea, this time the liquid going
smoothly down his throat. “I won’t. Do you know when your next showcase is?
That way oppa can set aside a day in his busy work schedule.”
Jimin nods once again and kicks his feet happily. “It’s on the third week of
Spring! ChimChim worked very hard to prepare, his teacher said he improved a
lot!”
“Is that so? Did you tell your mother about it? I bet Byunghun would like to go
too.” That’s a lie, Namjoon thinks, because his father would never take a day
from his precious and time-consuming schedule to attend something for his step-
son, no matter how dear it is to Jimin’s heart.
“No, mommy said she’s too busy. But it’s okay, because oppa’s going this time!”
Namjoon feels his heart truly sink to the bottom of his stomach at the
statement because he’s 100 percent positive that Seohyun is not busy at that
time.
“How many showcases have you had in the past, baby? How many did your parents
attend?”
Jimin stares at his glass of ice water dripping in condensation and frowns. The
downturned lips do not fare well on his pretty face.
“I’ve had a lot. I have one for every semester and I was in performing arts
schools my entire life. This is my second semester at HongSeok but my parents
didn’t come to the one I did last semester. But it’s okay—”
“No, Jimin, it’s not. Your parents should attend every single one of your
showcases even if they’re busy because there’s nothing more important than you,
sweetheart. So oppa will come to your showcases, okay? Take that as motivation
to work harder and become Korea’s best dancer.”
Jimin, at that moment, feels so much affection and love gush from his new
brother that his lips tremble and fat tears start streaming down his cheeks.
Namjoon startles at the sudden onslaught of tears but chuckles and wraps an arm
around the boy’s shaking shoulders, letting him sniffle into his shoulder.
“O-o-okay, ChimChim will work extra hard and he won’t make any mistakes. Thank
you, oppa. For taking me out today and being nice to me.”
Namjoon wipes the boy’s wet lashes with his thumb, pressing a light kiss on his
temple. “Really, it’s no problem. I’d do this every day if I could.”
“Really?” Jimin breathes, peering up at the handsome CEO with wide, teary eyes.
“Yes, really. I want to make up for all the years that your parents and your
classmates have treated you wrongly. You said you’re 18, right? So give me 18
years to treat you how you should be treated, and then a million years after
that so we cover the days you’re alive.”
Jimin giggles as a server comes and starts decorating the table with pastas and
salads. “I won’t be alive in a million years!”
“You will be if you eat all this food,” Namjoon answers, mixing the salad and
placing a good portion on Jimin’s plate.
“Okay, Jiminnie is hungry anyway. I will eat everything!”
Turns out, Jimin likes to choose favorites so he finished most of the regular
tomato spaghetti while he left most of the other dishes like the creamy pasta,
the egg salad, and alfredo spaghetti untouched. Namjoon ate the remaining
dishes but he found that he liked watching Jimin eat instead. His eyes did not
leave the boy as he slurped at the long spaghetti and wiped his mouth when the
tomato sauce stained his lips. He’d gone on an incredible amount of dinner
dates before, but he was never so fixated on his date’s eating habits like he
was with Jimin. Maybe it was the way Jimin twirled the spaghetti and opened his
mouth even before he raised his fork, or how his plump lips curled over the
silverware and smacked together when he was finished chewing. He just couldn’t
tear his eyes off of the young boy and he found himself extremely satisfied
when Jimin had finished all the food that he’d put on his plate.
“Good boy. Do you have room for dessert?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin is, of
course, willing to fill his tiny stomach with even more delicious food.
Jimin orders a slice of cake with vanilla ice cream, and Namjoon gets the same
thing as him. The treats come in record time and Jimin is already halfway
through the decadent cake when Namjoon eases back into his seat and casually
brings up the topic he’s been wanting to cover.
“Do you see yourself as a girl or a boy, ChimChim?”
The teen freezes and it’s almost comical how the fork stills in midair, but
Namjoon just rests his large hand on the boy’s neck and plays with the short
hairs sprouting from the nape.
“Umm, J-Jiminnie…..is a boy….”
“Do you see yourself as a boy?”
Jimin nods, avoiding Namjoon’s focus and proceeds to play with the rest of the
cake on his plate. Namjoon’s hand on Jimin’s neck stills as he grasps that the
boy doesn’t feel comfortable with the subject.
“It’s okay, Jimin. You don’t have to talk about it right now. But if you ever
feel comfortable talking about it, come to oppa, alright?”
The young boy nods again and Namjoon frowns. “Use your words, baby.”
“Jiminnie will talk to oppa when he’s comfortable.”
“Good. Finish your dessert, now. Did you have fun today?”
“Yes, it was very fun! But….but now Jiminnie has to go home because it’s dark.
He doesn’t want to! I don’t want the day to end,” Jimin pouts, the cake
forgotten as the teen hugs Namjoon and shoves his face into the older man’s
chest. Namjoon welcomes the soft embrace and rubs the young boy’s back in a
soothing gesture.
“Oppa doesn’t want it to end, either. I wish I could do this every day, I liked
spending time with you.”
“Really?” The boy looks up at the older man and his eyes gleam such hopefulness
that Namjoon can’t help but press a kiss to his forehead.
“Yes, of course. Let’s go out again someday. Maybe this Sunday when both you
and I are free.”
“Okay! Jiminnie is doing nothing Sunday,” he affirms, breaking into a face-
splitting grin. His appetite for the chocolate cake returns and he gobbles it
up, getting chocolate frosting all over his lips in the process.
Namjoon swears the boy is doing it on purpose.
 
 
 
 
                                       ⊗
 
 
 
 
The next three weeks progress by regretfully as Namjoon is utterly swamped with
work at his office and Jimin is studying for his midterm exams. They only see
each other on Sundays and those fourteen hours are the most blissful escape
Namjoon has all week. It’s Friday, however, when Seokjin knocks on his office
door and enters holding a phone to his chest.
“Sir, you have a call from HongSeok academy. Something about Jiminnie resting
in the nurse—”
Namjoon drops the pen he’s holding and it clatters noisily on the unblemished
surface of the table, but the CEO heeds no attention as he takes the phone from
his secretary and brings it up to his ear.
“Hello? Who is this?” He demands, stepping towards the glass wall of his office
that overlooks the entirety of Seoul.
“This is the principal of HongSeok Academy. Is this Park Jimin’s father?”
Not missing a beat, Namjoon confirms the title and starts pacing around the
expansive space.
“It took quite a few calls to reach you, Mr. Park. The maids at your home said
you were busy so I had to ask the nurse to get your phone number from your
son—”
“Please, I am an extremely busy man. Why did you call me?”
There’s a quiet squeaking behind the speaker and Namjoon’s eye twitches.
“I am calling to inform you that Jimin is quite…..unwell after a spat with one
of his classmates, and he needs a ride home. Will you be willing to take a
couple of minutes out of your incredibly busy schedule to pick him up?”
“Which classmate?” Namjoon spits, already throwing every which paper into his
briefcase so he can conclude his assignments at home. Seokjin splutters as he
watches his boss pack up to leave early for the second time that month.
“That kind of information is highly confid—”
“Oh, don’t give me that fucking bullshit. It was Jung Hunchul, wasn’t it? Call
that motherfucker’s parents and have them meet me at the school by four or I’m
shutting your entire establishment down.”
Seokjin frowns as he steps aside the bustling man so Namjoon can reach his suit
jacket. “Sir,” Seokjin says warily. “We have a lot of work to do this week and
you can’t just….”
“Excuse me?” The bastard’s voice blares from the phone. “And who are you, sir,
to decide such a thing?”
Namjoon slings the long strap of his briefcase over his shoulder as he holds up
a hand to stop Seokjin from following him.
“I’m Kim Namjoon, Jimin’s newest stepfather. Perhaps you’ve heard of my
company?”
 
 
 
 
Namjoon arrives at the campus fifteen minutes after the phone call ends. The
principal had stammered into the receiver after hearing his name, and he would
have had more sadistical pleasure in making the man squirm if he weren’t so
worried for Jimin.
Seokjin had been anxious for the boy as well. The previous Saturday, Namjoon
had brought Jimin into work because the boy wanted to wear one of his new
dresses, but had nowhere to don it. Namjoon suggested tagging along to see
where he worked and he assured him that the people working underneath him would
appreciate Jimin for who he was.
Because if they didn’t, Namjoon would make sure to it that they would never get
a job in the entirety of their pitiful lives ever again.
As soon as Namjoon enters the school building, he immediately points to a dumb
looking student loitering in the main entrance and demands him to lead him to
the nurse’s office. The teen is noticeably taken aback but he doesn’t question
the maniacal gaze in Namjoon’s eyes and takes him to the office on the second
floor. There, he can already hear the tiny, little sniffles from down the hall
and he barges in, startling the nurse and the crying boy sitting on the
hospital bed.
Jimin looks absolutely wrecked, with his uniform drenched in some places and
discolored, and cuts on his face visible on his pale, pale skin.
“N-N-Na-Namjoon o-opp—”
“Shh,” said male breathes, wrapping his arms around the boy’s positively
trembling frame and smoothing his large hand down Jimin’s back. He smells rank
like…..urine?
Namjoon sees red.
“What happened? Don’t worry, ChimChim, daddy’s here. Tell daddy what happened.”
“D-daddy?”
Namjoon crouches so he’s eye level with Jimin and wipes the tears and snot from
the boy’s splotchy face. “Yes, Jimin. Right now I’m your daddy picking you up
after school,” he explains, hoping the boy catches the hint. “Can you please
tell daddy what happened?”
Jimin’s red eyes flicker up to the nurse standing idly by, and Namjoon directs
his focus back on him with his hands. The nurse is a petty detail in their
conversation and it’s not even worth his effort to kick her out. He just wants
to know what occurred that made his Jiminnie break down like this.
“Tell me. Jimin, who did this to you?”
“Tattle-tale and your daddy goes to jail, you hear? Don’t say a word about this
to anyone.”
Nine year old Jimin nods as he nurses his mother’s wounds, cradling her face to
protect her from her husband’s drunken rage. He lets not one tear fall as the
young prepubescent boy sops the blood from her lips and keeps her head
elevated.
“Don’t worry, mother. I’ll protect you.”
“Jimin. Jimin! Tell me. Please.”
Jimin shakes his head wildly, eyes fearful as he stares at Namjoon. “Nothing!
Nothing happened so just leave her alone! Please, father, just leave her
alone!”
Namjoon jerks his entire body back at the distant response that he receives,
completely unexpecting of the weirdly different tone that Jimin speaks in.
That’s when he notices that the boy’s eyes are glassy and there are fresh tears
erupting from his precious lids. But this time, they’re of anger and defiance
instead of the usual tears of fear.
“Jimin?”
“Please, stop, you’re hurting her! I won’t tell anyone, please, please….”
Namjoon is stunned into silence for the briefest of seconds before turning to
the nurse and the dumb kid from before (whose nametag reads Kim Taehyung on his
uniform).
“Get out.”
The two immediately usher out and Jimin panics because his father always makes
sure there’s no one in the house other than his wife and Jimin when he starts
drinking. He wants to hop off the bed and escape but he can’t leave his mother
behind! Where is she?!
“Jimin,” the morphed vision of his biological father and the blonde man who
he’s poured so much affection to over the past month says, his voice stern. It
sounds like the unforgiving way his father used to say his name, but there’s
something else laced in there. Something that Jimin’s father can’t ever
possibly have the ability to possess.
Namjoon searches the tiny vicinity for something but comes up empty handed. He
returns to Jimin and he places both hands on the space either side of the boy’s
knees, and leans in to maintain unwavering eye contact with him.
“Where is it, baby?” He asks. “Where’s your bra?”
Jimin stills. How did his father find out about his secret? He started wearing
thin, almost sheer bras ever since he found that the tightness around his chest
comforted him. He likes touching the straps when he was particularly
distressed. When he was nine and was forced to tend to his mother, he would
grip onto her bra strap when she had the energy to hug him and it soothed his
nerves.
Jimin curls into himself as the man before him starts scavenging the room
wildly again. How did he find out? Jimin is terrified for the violent reaction
that he will most likely get because boys don’t wear bras, especially not boys
who are eighteen.
“Fuck. Jimin, stay with me, okay? Did you wear it to school today?”
Agonized, Jimin nods and hangs his head in complete and utter shame. His father
is probably wondering why his eighteen year old son wears bras to school. He’s
an embarrassment.
“Why don’t you have it on, then? Look into my eyes and tell me what happened.”
Namjoon has seen the young boy play with his bra strap before. It wasn’t hard
to notice the thin, non-padded bra that Jimin wore underneath his clothes. He
never quite understood why Jimin wore it until he realized that the boy touched
it whenever he was troubled. He assumed it was an item of comfort to the teen
so he didn’t question it until now.
Jimin doesn’t answer and Namjoon wracks his brain for a method to get the boy
comfortable enough to explain what happened. His eyes catch Jimin’s fingers
fumbling with the hem of his soiled shirt and Namjoon immediately raises his
hand to his own neck, scrabbling for his necklace that he wears tucked under
his shirt. It’s made of thin, black cord and has a classic and modest brass
pendant that weighs the cord down. He’s taken a fancy to the accessory for its
simplicity and wears it every single day but other than that, there’s no real
significance to it. He pulls it over his head and drapes it around Jimin’s,
guiding the boy’s small hand to clutch at the pendant.
“This is my most favorite necklace, Jimin. Hold it and tell me what’s going
on.”
Jimin’s pupils finally focus and he looks down at the heavy weight in his soft
palm. The accent piece is small but it’s stamped with gold and black detailing
and it feels warm and satisfying in his hand. He rubs his thumb over the face
of the pendant and the movement causes the black cord to tug at his neck, and
he decides that he can get through this with his daddy’s most treasured item
blanketed in his palm.
“Jiminnie was scared, daddy,” he starts, and Namjoon lets out a crippling sigh
of relief at the familiar tone that fills the room. “He was working on his
dance routine and h-he needed to pee so he went to the bathroom. ChimChim was
hot so he took off h-his uniform in the studio. But daddy! He was still wearing
his white shirt! He was still dressed but H-Hu-Hunchul came in with his friends
and saw my b-bra and made me take it off in front of them. J-Jiminnie didn’t
want to but t-they pushed m-me to the ground and H-Hunchul opened his p-p-pants
a-and…..”
Namjoon grips the edges of the cushioned bed on either side of Jimin’s knees
and wills his fury to settle so the boy can finish his story. But he finds
himself unable to control himself as he curses—quite loudly—and balls his hands
into fists. He wants to kill Hunchul and every single damn person involved in
this situation but that would most possibly upset Jimin even further.
“Go on, Jimin. Continue.”
“I tried to stop him, daddy! I was really scared but I tried to run away but
Hunchul’s f-friends held me down a-and…..” Jimin’s knuckles turn white at the
strain he’s forcing on the pendant. “—and Hunchul p-peed o-on my s-shirt.” A
single tear tips over the brim of Jimin’s eye and it streaks down his cheek,
leaving behind a salty, dewey wake. Namjoon cups the boy’s wet cheeks in his
large hands and wipes at his tears, his own heart clenching in grief at the
sight of his precious broken jewel.
“Daddy’s here now, Jimin. I’ll change you and punish Hunchul for doing those
things to you. But for now, lets stop crying, baby. Daddy can’t do anything
unless you quiet down. Where’s your beautiful smile? Show daddy,” Namjoon coos,
soaking the tears with his fingers and ticking the boy until he erupts into a
thousand bubbly giggles.
“There it is, look at my sunshine.”
Namjoon holds Jimin’s red, moist face and watches as the boy’s curved smile
dies into a smaller, more natural one. He feels his heart beat in his throat as
the utter beauty of Jimin’s innocent presence overwhelms the entirety of his
senses. He slides in and tucks himself between the boy’s knees and leans in
until they are centimeters apart. From the close distance Namjoon can smell the
delicious, soft puffs of breath coming sharply from Jimin’s mouth.
Namjoon can’t let this moment pass. His eyes are glued to the boy’s soft,
curved lips and all he can feel, smell, and covet is Jimin.
“Can daddy kiss you?” He asks, ripping his gaze from his lips to stare into
Jimin’s wide eyes. He breathes in the sweet smell of Jimin’s natural aroma as
the boy parts his lips. He’s never asked the question before, as he always
acted on instinct with the men and women he played with in the past. But he
finds himself aching for Jimin to give him consent, craving for the sensation
of the boy’s lips on his own. They appear so extremely soft and sweet, and
Namjoon has half the mind to just kiss him right then and there, but he awaits
Jimin’s answer.
And Jimin, after what feels like an eternity of thinking, nods once and his
lips purse automatically as Namjoon delves in, closing the mile-long gap
between their mouths.
His lips are so breathtakingly sweet—almost cloyingly so. They taste like the
finest candied nectar of honey produced by the fattest bees, and Namjoon craves
a deeper, muskier taste like an addict presented with only an ounce of what
their bodies are accustomed to. Jimin’s lips are pillowy soft and Namjoon knows
for certain that they can put him to sleep better than any of the artisanal
pillows he has mounted on his handmade bed.
And the little sounds Jimin makes as Namjoon dredges his tongue between the
boy’s lips, just probing enough to touch the younger’s teeth. He mewls and
whines and bleats like a little newborn lamb suckling on its mother’s teat.
Jimin’s tiny, silky hands drop the necklace he’s still holding and clasps
around the collar of Namjoon’s white shirt, instinctively pulling the older man
closer.
Namjoon’s hands roam from Jimin’s supple cheeks to the back of his neck, to the
silky bundle of hair, and back to his neck to graze the creamy expanse of his
throat. Jimin giggles at the ticklish sensation and Namjoon can smell even more
of the boy’s clean musk, making him moan faintly. He kisses down the boy’s
chin, slices across his jawbone, nips at the lobe of his ear, before trailing
down to his neck and tonguing at Jimin’s Adam’s apple. He pulls the necklace
taut until it creases the skin and he muses that a collar would look
extraordinary wrapped around his pale neck.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” Namjoon moans, lapping at the taste of Jimin’s
dried sweat from earlier and unconsciously grinding his hardening boner against
Jimin’s crotch. The boy gasps, hands tightening around Namjoon’s collar and
tilting his neck so even more skin is exposed.
“D-daddy, it’s doing t-the bad thing,” Jimin whines, inching back in his seat
and trying to escape the direct contact from his own groin to Namjoon’s
erection.
“What bad thing?” Namjoon asks against the salty skin on Jimin’s neck, mind
going fuzzy from the intense scent.
“M-my peepee, i-it’s….”
“Hard? Does it feel good, ChimChim?”
“N-no! Daddy said i-it was a bad t-thing and that boys who touched it g-go to
hell.”
Namjoon detaches his lips from Jimin’s neck—with great difficulty—before
staring deeply into the boy’s fearful eyes. “Baby, it’s a good thing when your
peepee gets hard. It feels good, doesn’t it? It’s only a natural thing in life
that you must take care of. Have you ever touched yourself, Jimin?”
Jimin lets out the most delightful of groans when Namjoon’s large hands trail
up his thigh and palm at the hardening erection in his school pants.
“N-no, i-it’s bad…”
“Does it feel bad right now?” Namjoon hums, rubbing with more earnest now. The
boy’s cock feels small underneath the layers of clothing and Namjoon wonders
how cute and pink it looks.
“I-I don’t know, it feels….Jiminnie’s confused.”
“What’s confusing, baby? Daddy can make you feel so good, Jimin, but only if
you let me.”
“ChimChim wants t-to feel good, daddy. But I-I feel so….wrong,” he cries,
twitching at the sensation of Namjoon’s deft hands working at the unfamiliarly
hard member in his wet undies. He feels so dirty and he wants the feeling to go
away, and oh no, it feels like he’s going to pee!
“S-stop, daddy!” He sobs, but his tiny hips rut against Namjoon’s naughty hands
without his brain giving them permission to. He’s going to pee any second now
but wait, Namjoon’s bending down and—
“D-da—”
Jimin feels tears of pleasure and humiliation stream down his face as Namjoon
buries his tall nose into the boy’s soiled crotch. He’s embarrassed that his
daddy’s face is down there when he’s almost about to pee, and he’s absolutely
terrified that he will scare Namjoon off with his tainted smell. However, the
feeling of being humiliated makes him tremble all over in pleasure and he is in
a complete moral dilemma with himself.
“Let it out, baby. Come on,” Namjoon breathes, and the hot air that leaks
through even the two layers of clothing makes Jimin scream. His hands grapple
at the CEO’s hair and his knees go weak even as he’s sitting down. All thoughts
of morals—of good and bad evacuate from his mind completely as he revels in the
mind-numbing pleasure that he’s experiencing. He’s crying in earnest now
because he just released something warm and there’s a darkening stain in the
front of his pants that Namjoon’s rubbing, and he’s twitching in
overstimulation. Everything’s wet and the substance is dripping down his
softening prick and mingling with his balls and he feels so dirty.
“Jimin peed himself, daddy,” he sobs, feeling completely and utterly
humiliated. “Jiminnie’s sorry, h-he couldn’t help i-it!”
Namjoon watches in pity as the boy continues to hiccup his apologies at having
soiled himself, and he feels his erection positively raging in his pants to be
relieved. However, he cannot do anything about it just yet because he doesn’t
want to scare or intimidate the boy, and he thinks time would be best for the
young thing. Besides, he has something he needs to deal with outside of Jimin.
“Baby,” he starts, kissing him right in his wailing mouth. “You didn’t pee
yourself. It’s something else, something that probably tastes as sweet as
candy.”
The boy quietens his sobbing as his curiosity gets the better of him.
“C-candy?” Jimin asks, wiping his tears with the back of his trembling hand.
“Yes, it’s not pee at all. Peeing doesn’t feel that good,” he chuckles.
Jimin clutches at the inside of his thighs shyly as he thinks to himself, ‘it
did feel good. Maybe it wasn’t pee after all.’
“You did well, Jimin, you are such a good boy. Should we change out of your
clothes, now?”
Jimin nods and Namjoon maneuvers himself out of the room, not even trying to
conceal his boner as he steps into the hallway where the nurse and the kid from
before are standing. They look scandalized.
“Where do you keep your extra uniforms?” Namjoon asks, pulling out his wallet
and thumbing through the bills neatly tucked in there.
“I’m sorry, sir, but our uniforms are by order only and you would need to sign
through the school.”
“Okay. Well, here’s 800,000 won, which should be more than enough to compensate
for a delayed order. Where are the uniforms?”
The nurse’s eyebrow twitches but she takes the money and starts down the
hallway. However, Namjoon pokes his head into the room to check on Jimin and is
startled when the door bumps into something. It’s Jimin, and he must have been
pondering whether or not he should follow his daddy out. Namjoon laughs as the
boy chokes on an apology, and he pets his fluffy hair.
“Wait here for daddy, I’ll be right back with a fresh change of clothes.”
“Jimin comes?” He asks tentatively, voice small.
“No, stay here. It’ll only be a moment, baby.”
Jimin wordlessly slinks back on the hospital bed with a pout on his silky lips.
Namjoon drinks in the sight for a couple of quiet seconds before closing the
door and approaching the nurse who waits at the end of the hall with an annoyed
sneer on her face.
“Straighten that frown, miss, or you’re going to end up ruining the botox.”
“How dare you—”
“Mister, hey, mister!”
A deep voice calls from behind them, and Namjoon turns around with a scowl on
his face. Hey?
“Is this your sons?” The boy—Taehyung—asks, holding up a scrunched fistful of
light pink fabric in his hands. Namjoon raises an eyebrow as he takes the bra,
inspecting the thing. It’s stained with a putrid yellow and reeks faintly of
urine. He’s never seen Jimin’s bras up close but now he can see that it is one
of the cheap fabric bras from GMart. Namjoon pulls out his handkerchief from
his breast pocket and tucks the flimsy piece of soiled fabric between the thick
wefts, before placing it back into the sliver.
“Thanks. Do not speak of this incident to anyone, Taehyung, or I will literally
disembowel you until you’re an empty carcass.”
Slightly nauseated by the violent threat, Taehyung scrambles to catch up with
the CEO as they enter a room next to the main office.
“I won’t, I promise. Your son’s name is Jimin, right? If you want, I can be his
friend.”
Namjoon seethes as he throws a murderous glare at the dumb lilac-haired boy.
“He doesn’t need your pity, boy.”
“It’s not pity though,” he defends, watching with wide, doleful eyes as the
nurse unlocks a cabinet of freshly printed and stitched uniforms, all crisply
wrapped in luxurious plastic. “I think Jimin has a friend named Jungkook. He’s
my friend too. Boyfriend, actually, so I really do want to help Jimin out. I
don’t have many friends here myself.”
Namjoon flips through the uniforms and chooses one that most closely resembles
the size of Jimin’s tiny stature. He rips the nametag off—a kid named Kim
Jonghyun—and hands it to the nurse to hold when another bag catches his eyes.
The student’s name is Park Choa and there’s a dainty, skimpy uniform with a
tiny skirt and socks hanging in the wrapper. He takes that one as well, and
slings it over the nurse’s arm.
“Why do you need a girl’s uniform?” The nurse asks, looking mildly offended as
Namjoon shuts the cabinet and locks it himself.
“Clearly I need it for when my son wants to feel pretty,” he replies, looking
at her as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
“What you’re doing is disgusting, and I will alert the police for child abuse.”
“Abuse?” Namjoon chuckles. “What I’m doing is simply building him up to be the
best son that he could be, and he’s absolutely flourishing. But sure, send them
to our house. Show them how well we’re treating him and how happy he is—we
needed a new soppy headliner on the newspaper, anyway.”
Namjoon plucks the other uniform from the nurse before turning for the door,
taking long strides up to the office where Jimin should be waiting. He opens
the door and finds Jimin laying with his arms wrapped around his knees and
taking a faint nap on the bed. Namjoon unwraps the new uniform and places it on
the empty space beside the boy and gently shakes him awake.
“Daddy?” The nymph asks drowsily, rubbing his eyes with his tiny little hands.
Namjoon feels a swell of delight at the fact that he’d called for him first
thing.
“Yes, baby, I’m here. Let’s get you dressed up.”
Namjoon pulls off Jimin’s cream sweater vest and starts working on the buttons
of his white shirt, and from the close distance he can see Jimin’s eyelashes
pointed down, avoiding his gaze. They’re glued together with dried tears and
Namjoon wants to kiss them—but oh, those pink flushed cheeks look delectable as
well. He suppresses the impulse to just devour his lips once more but he’s got
people waiting for him in the main office downstairs, and he shouldn’t keep
them waiting for longer.
Namjoon finally unbuttons down the front and he marvels at the boy’s bare
chest, nipples a soft brown as they perk against the chilly air. And oh, what’s
this? A faint trace of the beginnings of abdominal muscles hide beneath his
stomach, and Namjoon distractedly traces his fingertips along the soft, blurred
ridges. Jimin giggles and the lines clench, and Namjoon wants to run his tongue
along the divots.
“Jesus, where did you acquire these?” He asks, still ogling at the young boy’s
toned body.
“We work out a lot for dancing,” Jimin says, shivering when Namjoon helps him
out of the shirt completely. Namjoon runs his warm hands across the boy’s
collarbones, slides them over to his shoulders, and down his arms which trail
and flicker with goosebumps.
“Hmm, do you? It’s done wonders for your body then, baby. You’re a little thin,
though. Are you getting enough to eat?”
Jimin nods, but Namjoon catches the hesitance in his movement.
“Tell me the truth, sweetheart. Are they bothering you at lunch?”
The boy allows Namjoon to slip his arms through the sleeves of the crisp, new
shirt, and he only nods as Namjoon starts buttoning it up.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. Daddy will take care
of it.”
“Are you going to tattle-tell on Hunchul?” Jimin asks timidly, raising his arms
when Namjoon pulls the cream vest over his torso.
“Daddy’s not going to tattle-tell on anybody. I’m just going to make sure you
are not being treated unfairly any longer.” Namjoon chuckles when Jimin stares
at him with wide, skeptical eyes. “I’m not going to do anything bad, baby.
Trust daddy.”
Namjoon helps Jimin off the bed and they leave the nurse’s office together, the
CEO leading the boy with a hand on the small of his back. The nurse promptly
enters her domain after they exit and Jimin startles when he spots Taehyung
waiting in the hallway.
“Why are you still here?” Namjoon grits, pushing Jimin past the lilac haired
boy and towards the staircase. Jimin turns his head curiously to the stranger
and he cautiously grips the belt loop of his daddy’s pants when Taehyung
flashes him a wide box smile.
“I just wanted to see if Jimin was alright. Hey, you know Kookie, right?”
“Kookie!” Jimin exclaims, the word tenderly engraved on his tongue after having
named his stuffed rabbit after his best friend.
“Yeah, Kookie! He’s my boyfriend. Hasn’t he ever told you about me?”
Namjoon’s eyebrow twitches as Jimin seems to have an unfamiliar sparkle in his
eyes, and he feels unexplainably jealous. He remembers Jimin telling him about
a friend he had in the past, but he hadn’t known it was to this extent.
“No, me and Kookie don’t talk much. He moved to a new school last year,” Jimin
says sadly, fingers gripping even tighter on Namjoon’s belt loops as they
descend the stairs.
“Well, he talks about you a lot and I’ve always wanted to meet you! It’s weird
how I’ve never seen you around here, huh?”
“This is our stop. It’s 5:30, shouldn’t you be heading home, kid?” Namjoon
asks, slinging a protective arm around Jimin’s shoulders.
“Yeah, but I wanted to talk to Jimin—”
“There’s no need for that. We’re busy right now,” he retorts, but Jimin squirms
in his arms.
“Daddy, I want to talk to him. Can I?”
And Jimin peers up at him with the widest, most shimmering eyes and Namjoon’s
breath catches in his throat. The no that he was originally going to verbalize
gets stuck and it doesn’t come out. He glares at Taehyung before nodding.
“Do not harm him in any way, kid. The threat from before is still valid—you
remember it, don’t you?”
“I just want to talk. Jeez, aren’t you overbearing?”
Namjoon has half the mind to just annihilate the dumb kid right in front of
Jimin, but the little nymph is already bounding towards the stranger and asking
him how he met Jungkookie. He watches with weary eyes as the two sit on the
floor next to the office, exchanging pleasantries like old friends. He guesses
it’s a good distraction to Jimin, having a friend to chat with while he waits
for his daddy to finish some business with the principal. So he checks the boy
one last time before turning the doorknob to the glass door and stepping into
the office.
The main office is a large, expansive space with a number of individual
cubicles hiding teachers and staff. He reaches what looks like a secretary desk
and asks for the principal, stating his name. She leads him to a room in the
back that is winded at the end of a hallway, and she knocks on the door twice
before opening it.
“Principal Choi, Namjoon-sshi is here.”
“Finally. Do you have any idea how long you have kept these people waiting?” A
familiar voice blares, and Namjoon scoffs.
“I’m sure they are incredibly important people,” he bites, scanning the room to
come in contact with a man and woman who both look like they’re nearing fifty.
He wants the meeting to go quickly since he doesn’t want Jimin to wait too long
for him.
“You must be the parents of Jung Hunchul,” Namjoon starts, and the man steps
forward defensively. Namjoon doesn’t let him introduce himself as he continues
with his speech. “I’ll offer two options. The first is optimal, and that is for
you to take your son and transfer to another school, preferably out of Seoul.”
“What?”
“Option two is more of a hassle for us but you can put up a fight, get sued,
and we can ruin your reputation for whatever company you work for. But in the
end, you would still have to move Hunchul to another performing arts school.
So, which one is it? I suggest the former.”
“Who are you to give us options on where we send our son?!” The woman
screeches, and Namjoon lets out a fatigued sigh. Why can’t people just listen
to him and save his breath from wasting any more time than he already has?
“We’ll sue you for threatening us,” the elderly father retorts.
“Oh, sue all you want. Sue me for defending my son from Hunchul’s physical and
emotional bullying. Have you any idea on what he does to Jimin?”
“Your son made our son gay, you faggots! He has every right to make Jimin’s
life a living hell for straying him away from God!”
Namjoon is taken aback by this. Hunchul is gay because of JImin? It only takes
him another three seconds to process the man’s words before he erupts into an
evil, sinister laugh. “Hunchul bullies him because he got rejected? My, that’s
the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. My son has good taste.”
“We’ll sue you! We’re going to call our attorney right now and get Jimin
suspended for telling his father to threaten us! Do you know how much money we
spent on Hunchul’s tuition?!”
Namjoon takes a seat at the leather comforter in the office and picks at a fuzz
that clings to the fabric on his knee. “The janitors who work under my name
send their kids here. This school is nothing special, really. Dirty, smelly—I
haven’t seen one computer in any of the classrooms. But Jimin, for whatever
reason he has, quite likes this school so I want the best for my son. Which, of
course, means getting rid of the bugs that are bothering him.”
“This disrespectful bastard!”
Namjoon really doesn’t like bringing his father’s name into things, but these
people obviously haven’t a clue who he is, and he wants to take Jimin home and
spend the rest of the afternoon with him.
“Do you know who I am?” The father asks suddenly, and Namjoon smiles in
amusement.
“Enlighten me.”
“I am the owner of Jung Pharmacies. We have more money than probably anyone in
this school, so if you have any thought to keep your precious son in school,
you better tell him to back off of Hunchul!”
Namjoon crosses his arms. “Is that so? You looked familiar. Well, I prefer
Lee’s family company anyway, so this is just convenient for me.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“You may not recognize me because I sign under my father’s name, but I’m Kim
Namjoon, head of Byunghun Corporate. Oh, this is just fantastic.”
Namjoon can’t believe how much of a coincidence this is, meeting with the owner
of the pharmacy that Byunghun Hospitals are directly affiliated with. Their
pharmacy company is only one of the top in the nation because of Byunghun, and
Namjoon outwardly laughs as the realization dawns upon the couple’s faces.
“So, principal, can we have a list of the possible performing arts academies
in…..Busan, Jeonju, or Daegu, Mr. Jung? I’ll let you choose.”
 
 
 
 
                                       ⊗
 
 
 


The weeks following up to Jimin’s special end of the year showcase hurdle by.
Jimin has yet to show Namjoon any of his routines but he can tell that Jimin is
practicing every second of every day, because it’s all he ever talks about.
Namjoon finds the innocent passion addicting as he’s forgotten how it once felt
to be so enraptured by such a hobby. His dates were never passionate about
anything themselves because they wanted to look like the personified beings of
I don’t give a shit.
The showcase is in a day and Namjoon, unfortunately, has work. To be quite
frank, work should never restrict him from doing anything because he is the CEO
and he can do whatever the fuck he wants. But lately he’s been taking more and
more time off to go to the movies with Jimin, take him to the park, drop him
off at school, help him with his homework…Seokjin is starting to get white
hairs from being over piled with work that Namjoon neglects, so he promised the
older man that he would stay in the office for the rest of the month without
pulling out.
When he says this to Jimin the Friday before the showcase, however, he finds
himself unable to do much of anything besides coddle the agitated boy and press
flurrying kisses on every inch of his face.
“Daddy’s sorry, Jimin. I really am. I’ll try to make it but I can’t promise you
that. Don’t cry, baby.”
Jimin has worked extremely hard after school every single day to ensure that
the movements and choreography he memorized felt like second nature. He
practiced for his daddy, but hearing Namjoon say that he has work on the night
of his showcase made his heart sink in dread and immediate tears to spring in
his eyes. He feels embarrassed that he’s crying in front of Namjoon again, but
the news had upset him so much that he couldn’t help it!
“I-it’s okay, J-Jiminnie will s-save you a spot for i-if you do come,” he
stutters in between breaths.
“Yes, baby. That’s a good boy, save a seat for daddy. Right in the front,
center, alright? I’ll try to make it, I really will.”
Jimin doesn’t doubt for a fact that Namjoon will try his hardest to attend his
performance, but he’s still disappointed that there’s a possibility that he
won’t be able to attend. He sniffles as he buries his wet face into Namjoon’s
chest and closes his eyes, feeling the weight of that day settle into his tired
eyes. They’d snuggled while watching a movie together, and it’s barely eleven
PM when he slips into a short cat nap. Namjoon shakes him awake to tell him
it’s past his bedtime and he sleepily whines against the man's chest. He
doesn’t want to move because he’s too comfortable and daddy, lets sleep out
here. But Namjoon doesn’t want to give up his back to sleep on the couch with
Jimin, so he slips out from underneath the thin boy and scoops him into his
arms. By then, the little cherub is fully awake and he giggles as Namjoon
wrestles the remote control in his hand and tries to shut the TV off while
still holding Jimin.
“Can I sleep with daddy?” Jimin asks, relishing in how Namjoon’s muscles feel
around his frame.
“I have to wake up early tomorrow for work, honey. I don’t want to wake you.”
Jimin pouts. “It’s okay, Jimin wants to say bye anyway! And I want to remind
you that my showcase is tomorrow night.”
Namjoon chuckles and Jimin dreamily watches the elder’s Adam’s apple bob in his
throat. “How could I forget?”
Namjoon carries Jimin up to the bathroom connected to his room—now decorated
with the majority of his personal belongings—and sets him down on his feet.
Jimin grimaces as his bare feet touch the icy tiles of the bathroom, but
Namjoon is already handing him his toothbrush, and he immediately sticks it
into his mouth. While he brushes his teeth, Namjoon takes a soft cloth and wets
it before wiping at the boy’s face. Jimin waits for Namjoon to finish before
spitting the minty foam into the basin and rinsing his mouth with his tiny,
clumsy hands.
“Daddy, Jiminnie doesn’t want to go to sleep!” He says suddenly, mouth forming
an expressive pout. He crosses his arms as Namjoon opens the bathroom door and
frowns at him.
“Baby, it’s 11:30. You need to sleep if you want to save your energy for
tomorrow.”
“No! Jiminnie wants to spend more time with you,” he whines, dejected that the
day has gone so quickly. He hardly remembers the past three hours as he’d been
pressed against Namjoon’s toned, strong body. He doesn’t even remember the
title of the animated movie they’d watched! He doesn’t think it’s fair that he
has to sleep so early when, passing by his mommy’s room, she is still awake
with her lights on.
“Jimin,” Namjoon warns in a stern tone, and uh oh. He recoils because his daddy
only ever uses that voice when he’s disappointed in Jimin, or when he does
something bad. The last time he’d said his name like that was when Jimin threw
a tantrum—much like the one he’s in the middle of right now—and Namjoon had
ended their play date early.
Remembering this, and not wanting the older man to leave him again, he quivers
as Namjoon’s eyes flash something deadly that fits all too well on the handsome
man’s face. However, the thought of being punished and getting a reward later
for learning his lesson makes something wonderful stir in his stomach.
“If you don’t get to bed right this second, Jimin, daddy's going to get really
upset with you.”
Jimin doesn’t want to sleep yet!
“But—”
Namjoon’s slim, deft fingers move to his neck and he slips his necktie off in
one swift motion.
“No, daddy, please—”
“Oh, baby, this is such a mild punishment. It's such an easy task for being a
bad boy.”
Bad? Jimin sniffles as the word rings in his head, heart sinking at the fact
that he’d disappointed his favorite person in the world. Namjoon wraps the tie
around the circumference of the boy’s head and tucks the front in between the
boy’s teeth.
“Will you go to bed now?”
“Y-yeth,” Jimin mumbles through the silk.
Namjoon smirks as he undresses until he’s only in a black wifebeater and his
work slacks.
“Can you wait here while daddy gets something to change into?”
Jimin nods, his fingers itching to pull the tie from his mouth but remaining
submissively still along his sides.
“I’ll be right back.”
Jimin wipes at his eyes as soon as Namjoon disappears into the hallway. He’s
still shaken up from thinking he disappointed his daddy, but he didn’t seem too
mad. However, he knows if he pulls another stunt like this in the future, he
will get a worse punishment. His daddy really did let him off easily!
Namjoon returns in a white shirt that looks downy soft, and a pair of gray
sweatpants. Jimin can’t help but drink in the CEO’s appearance because the
image of his daddy in comfortable clothes is so homey to him and he just wants
to touch.
“Get in bed,” Namjoon says, and Jimin hangs his head as he crawls into bed and
snuggles into the pillow. When Namjoon turns to flick the lights off, Jimin
whines and stares at the older man pleadingly. He doesn’t want Namjoon to leave
just yet because he knows that if he does, the next time he will see him is
during the showcase. And he might not even be there!
The thought makes Jimin cry silently into the pink pillow beneath his head.
Namjoon, feeling sympathetic, nears the bed until he’s towering right over the
sniffling boy.
“Would you like daddy to sleep with you?” He asks, and Jimin’s crying
immediately halts. Oh, this is great! The last time Namjoon slept with him was
after mommy’s wedding, and it’s been too long!
“Nghye,” he stifles through the tie. Namjoon chuckles as he lifts the blanket
and climbs in behind Jimin, and against the wall. Jimin starts to turn but
Namjoon stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder, and he stays on his side
with his back to Namjoon. This isn’t what he wanted—he wants to see Namjoon and
touch his soft shirt and his soft skin and...
“Keep your hands to yourself, Jimin. And no speaking. This is your punishment
for tonight.”
Jimin frowns as he stares into the space of his bedroom, feeling all too well
the heat radiating from Namjoon’s body and smelling the faint scent of the
older man’s cologne and body wash. His mouth waters and his saliva soaks into
the expensive tie, and he can almost taste daddy’s scent on the fabric. After a
few long seconds of silence, he wriggles innocently until his back touches the
man’s chest.
“No, Jimin.”
He recoils and immediately pulls away from the light touch, and he lays in
agony as the man breathes tantalizing puffs of air on the back of Jimin’s neck.
He didn’t think it was possible but he falls asleep after ten minutes, but only
because Namjoon’s smell wafted into the air and all he breathed in was Namjoon.
And when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he’s surrounded by an
unbelievably warm cocoon and he realizes that Namjoon has wrapped his long arms
around his body and he’s sleeping with his rosy cheek pressed against the CEO’s
calmly rising chest. The tie around his mouth is gone too, and he sighs
contentedly as he snuggles deeper into the warm case of Namjoon’s warmth.
 
 
 
The next day, Namjoon is absolutely swamped with files, complaints, and papers.
He’s been locked in his office for the past eight hours and he’s barely made a
dent in the mountain of shit on his desk. It’s nearly five and Jimin’s showcase
is in an hour. He finds himself growing more and more impatient with himself as
the minutes flash by. He’s about to just burn a file containing paperwork from
his attorney because Jung Pharmacies had the nerve to sue them, when there’s a
knock on the door.
“What?” He snaps, and Seokjin pokes his head in.
“Sir, there’s—ah—someone here who wants to see you.”
“Who?”
Seokjin steps aside and Sojin enters the room, sidling her way to his desk.
“Namjoon-sshi, you’ve missed three of our dates and ignored every single one of
my messages. Is there something wrong?”
Namjoon hardly misses a beat in his violent writing as he continues working.
“Shouldn’t that be enough evidence that I am not interested in pursuing
anything in this relationship, Sojin-sshi?”
Sojin seems prepared for the biting answer as she perks herself on the corner
of Namjoon’s desk.
“Why? You seemed pretty interested in bed a month ago.”
Namjoon sighs.
“Are you really going to bring back something that happened a month ago to
defend yourself? A lot has changed since then. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have
someplace to be.”
Namjoon finishes his signature on the file and hands it to Seokjin before
packing his essentials into his briefcase.
“It’s Jimin, isn’t it?”
Namjoon drops the manilla folder that he’s holding and papers cascade onto the
floor. He mentally curses himself for letting such a comment disturb his focus.
“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with my brother?” Namjoon asks, bending
down and sweeping the papers into his hand.
“Are you sure that’s all there is to it? Last time I was over your parents’
house, you were snuggled up right next to Jimin. Now, is that appropriate
behavior for mere siblings?”
Namjoon’s eye twitches as he locks the briefcase.
“And now you’re going to his little show at his school, aren’t you? That’s why
you’re blowing your career off?”
Namjoon shrugs his suit jacket on and checks the time on his watch.
“What are you going to do about it? Are you going to tattle-tell?” He asks,
cocking his head as if he’s willing her to put up a fight. “Are you going to
tell on my father like a little jealous ex-girlfriend? Go ahead, tell him.
You’ll be one in a hundred.”
Namjoon knows he’s taken up too much time already, as it is 5:40, so he grabs
his suitcase and orders Seokjin to lock up for him again. He promises the man a
raise and he thinks he hears Seokjin mumble something about not needing one
anymore, but he’s already out the door and into the elevator. He doesn’t spare
Sojin another glance because all that’s in his head isJimin Jimin Jimin.
 
 
 
 
 
Namjoon arrives a couple of performers before Jimin, and he huffs in relief. He
stopped by a flower shop beforehand and picked out a bundle of pink tulips,
something he can see Jimin liking and taking care of. He himself is sporting a
pair of black framed glasses as he wants to slip in and out as inconspicuously
as possible, though he's not entirely sure if a simple pair of glasses will
make him unnoticeable.
The auditorium is dim and Namjoon waits until the student on stage is finished
with her performance before scanning for his seat. There’s one seat that
remains empty and it’s in the front, center, like he’d requested. He laughs
inwardly to himself as he imagines Jimin asking the instructor to reserve a
spot for his daddy, and he sinks into it comfortably.
As the showcase drags on, he feels himself more and more anxious for Jimin’s
performance to begin. He’s prepared something very special for the boy and he
can’t wait until the whole thing was over so he could bring Jimin home and
congratulate him for a job well done.
The lights dim into complete darkness and the announcer—whose voice Namjoon
finds to be gratingly high—presents Park Jimin. A deep bass thrums and Crush’s
Give It To Me starts playing. A single spotlight shines onto the stage and
directs all attention to the boy already standing on stage, with his back to
the audience. Jimin starts moving along with the beat, and all of Namjoon’s
previous expectations are chucked out the window.
Jimin’s merely wearing a pair of white skinny pants and a white tank top, and
the sheer material hugs every curve, every divot on his body. But what really
surprises Namjoon is the dance. It’s nothing like Namjoon imagined it to be. He
thought there would be more popping and swift movements, since Jimin had said
he danced hip hop, but the dance is slow, sensual, and oozing of sex that looks
unfamiliar and wrong on Jimin. Even though it sits unnatural with the innocent
boy, it’s still captivating and Namjoon’s eyes hood as the boy rolls his hips
and flow with the music as if he’s boneless.
Namjoon is hypnotized by Jimin’s passion and his natural flow with the
extremely provocative music blaring through the speakers, and when he locks his
eyes with his daddy in the front row, he smiles. But the smile comes out as a
smirk and Namjoon has half the mind to just pounce on the boy right then and
there, giving the audience a show that they will never forget.
All wet with sweat, your body becomes an ocean
You lose your mind more and more
You want me to go harder, I wanna hear you
The song is over soon enough, however, and the audience applauds. Namjoon
watches the sweat glisten on his bare chest, his forehead, his arms, and as he
bows he can see the back muscles tense.
The spotlight flickers off just long enough for Jimin to slink backstage, and
Namjoon sits through half a performance before his boner tells him to find
Jimin immediately and he leaves his seat.
The backstage dressing room area is crowded with anxious students, all sweaty
and smelly and loud voices. Namjoon scans the room and frowns when he can’t
spot the boy that he’s looking for. He’s getting nauseous from breathing in
strong wafts of body odor when a man approaches him, and he’s all teeth and
smiles.
“Hello, are you looking for someone? The show’s not over yet but I guess we can
allow just one parent.”
“I’m looking for Jimin. Is he here?”
The man, whose lanyard says Hoseok, points to a door leading out of the
dressing room.
“He requested that he get ready in the practice room. He gets nervous around a
lot of people, so he’s probably stretching down and packing up. Would you like
to see him?”
Hoseok leads him out of the stuffy room and into the hallway, and Namjoon takes
a deep breath of the cool air. The practice room is only a few steps away and
before he knows it, the door opens to Jimin on the ground, stretching his legs.
“Dad—hyung!”
Jimin springs up and bounds towards him, smiling brilliantly before thrusting
himself into Namjoon’s open arms. Namjoon can feel the sweat drying on his back
underneath his fingertips and he closes his eyes as his scent overwhelms him.
“Did you like it?” Jimin asks cutely, his voice shy and anxious for his daddy’s
opinion. The door behind them swings shut as Hoseok gives them privacy.
“Oh, it was absolutely fantastic. I loved it. Did you choreograph all that by
yourself?”
“Yes, Jiminnie worked hard to not mess up!”
“Well, baby, the hard work paid off, didn’t it? It was perfect.” Namjoon
extracts himself from Jimin’s arms to present to him the bouquet of flowers,
and Jimin’s eyes twinkle in joy.
“D-daddy got me flowers?” He asks, taking the bundle and staring at it in
wonder.
“Of course. Flowers are for celebrations, aren’t they? Do you like them?”
“Yes,” Jimin breathes, tender fingertips gracing the petals of the tulips.
“Jiminnie’s never gotten flowers before.”
Namjoon’s blood runs cold as he imagines Jimin performing on stage without his
mother or father watching him. He imagines Jimin standing by himself while his
peers receive flowers and kisses from their parents. He imagines Jimin waiting
for Seohyun to drive him home, by himself, empty-handed.
“Daddy will come to every one of your showcases, Jimin. I’ll bring you more
flowers next time, so many that you’ll need a truck to carry them home. Then
you can make the flowers into bookmarks and give them to daddy, okay?”
Jimin hugs the bouquet to his chest—that’s still bare and prickling with
goosebumps—and beams. “ChimChim’s always wanted to make bookmarks! Oh, thank
you daddy.”
Namjoon smiles proudly and leans down to capture the boy’s lips in his, and he
can taste the sweat mingle with his sweet saliva, and it’s a delicious medley
of tastes on his tongue. Jimin suddenly feels bashful and he hides his face in
the flowers when Namjoon pulls away.
“No problem, baby. But daddy has a bigger and better surprise at home.”
“R-really? What kind of surprise?” Jimin asks curiously. Truly, he couldn’t
have gotten Jimin something better than this present!
“It’s a secret. I’ll show you once we get home, okay?”
Jimin nods. “Can we leave now?”
Namjoon laughs as he brushes back Jimin’s hair to kiss his forehead.
“Don’t you want to stay for the rest of the show?”
“No. Jiminnie wants to spend time with daddy.”
And that is all the confirmation he needs to whisk Jimin away and head towards
his penthouse.
 
 
 
“Is this my present, daddy?” Jimin asks in wonder, eyes twinkling as the lights
in his living room reflect in his pupils. His flat is on the 15th floor of
Seoul’s grandest penthouse apartments. Although it is only fifteen stories
high, it still overlooks the entirety of the nation and the faint dotting of
lights from below haze through the floor to ceiling glass windows. Jimin skips
over to the windows and peers down, and from there he can see the tiny, tiny
cars crossing the bridge of the Han River, and the towers of apartments
littering the air. However, the height makes his knees weak so he bounds back
to Namjoon’s side and takes in the modern, yet cozy atmosphere of Namjoon’s
suite.
Namjoon positively adores the way Jimin's way of viewing life is so pure and
innocent. The wonder in his eyes as he takes in the suite, and the way he plays
with the little trinkets decorating the house in fascination just makes Namjoon
fall for the boy even harder.
“Do you like it, Jimin?” Namjoon asks, slipping out of his jacket and setting
his briefcase down. The suite is a lot smaller than Byunghun’s 30 room mansion,
but Namjoon’s space is expansive in width and the pricey furniture makes up for
the cost.
“Yes, it’s like a hotel!” Jimin squeals, and Namjoon smiles as the boy flings
himself onto an expensive, leather couch.
“Would you like something to eat? I know you’re probably hungry.”
“Yes, ChimChim is hungry.”
“Why don’t you look in the fridge and tell daddy what you want, baby.”
Namjoon opens the fridge door and he moves aside as tiny pitter-patters of
footsteps approach him. The boy ogles in amazement at the variety of
vegetables, meats, fruits, beverages, and treats stand before him. However, an
unopened box of what looks like chocolate cake catches his eyes and he points
at it gleefully.
“I want that one!”
Namjoon furrows his brows as his little nymph makes grabby hands at the box of
chocolate fudge cake. “Don’t you want to eat dinner first before going into
dessert?”
Jimin pauses, but he shakes his head in the end. “Jiminnie wants cake.”
The CEO pulls out the box and sets it on the island behind him. “Alright. Since
you did such a good job tonight, I’ll let you eat cake first. But you have to
eat a hearty breakfast tomorrow, okay?”
“Jiminnie’s staying over? Like a sleepover?” He asks, voice tinged with
excitement. Namjoon slides the cake out of the box and slices out a sizable
piece of the decadent treat onto a plate.
“If you wish to. I have a lot of guest rooms in the wing behind the kitchen,
but if you so desire,” he says, setting the cake in front of the boy and
helping him up onto the bar stool. “You can sleep in my room tonight.”
Namjoon places a dainty, two pronged fork on the plate and reaches up to grab
two wine glasses from the hanging display.
“ChimChim stays with daddy,” the boy says shyly, a peachy blush painting his
silky, soft cheeks.
Namjoon portions Jimin milk in his wine glass before pouring red wine into his,
and the two spend the next fifteen minutes eating, talking, and staring
lovingly at each other.
“Are you ready for your present now, Jimin?” Namjoon asks as soon as the last
bite of cake disappears into his sweet mouth.
“Yes. Can daddy tell me what it is?”
“I can’t tell you yet, baby. Come with me.”
Jimin takes Namjoon’s hand and trails after the man down a low-lit hallway
opposite of the house. A single door awaits them and Namjoon uses his free hand
to open it and Jimin peeks in, taking in the view of what looks to be Namjoon’s
personal room. He drinks the image and burns it into his memory (as if he will
forget how it looks like if he doesn’t) and marvels at the thought of Namjoon
coming home to this every night, sleeping in the king size bed when night
falls—imagines Namjoon washing up and taking a shower after a long day of work.
The thought of being in such an intimate setting arouses the poor boy and he
suddenly feels all too shy to follow Namjoon in.
“What’s wrong, love? Aren’t you coming in?”
“I-is it okay to come in?” He mumbles, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.
“Of course it is. You want your present, don’t you?”
Yes, he does. He really wants his present. Namjoon covers his hands with his
own and pulls him in, shutting the door behind them. He takes a seat on the
foot of the bed and pats the space next to him, urging the boy to climb on.
“Jimin, I have prepared something extra special for your hard work today,”
Namjoon begins, and something anxious, something exciting rumbles in Jimin’s
stomach. “But I can only give it to you if you answer one simple question
correctly.”
Jimin blanches at that. A test? Namjoon is giving him a test? Oh, but he
absolutely despises tests! He gets all nervous and shaky and he never does
well!
Namjoon, catching the sudden apprehension in Jimin’s wide eyes, soothes him
down by patting the boy’s knee.
“It’s an easy test. If you pass, I will give you your surprise, and we will
become closer than ever before. If you don’t, however, then I will give you a
different present.”
Jimin clenches his hands together as his gaze wanders from his daddy to the
room before him, staring at the intricate decorations in mild interest.
Frankly, he doesn’t know if he will be able to answer the question because he
is simply too nervous. However, he really does want the first present because
he loves surprises more than anything in the world. Well, next to his daddy.
“Are you ready, Jimin?”
Jimin nods and returns his focus to his daddy sitting patiently beside him, and
he feels a little more at ease. If daddy believes he can do it, he will!
“Okay, here’s your question, baby,” Namjoon says, and if Jimin were a little
more observant of others’ emotions, he would see the anxiety flash through even
the powerful CEO’s eyes. Namjoon suddenly leans in and presses a short, honey-
sweet kiss to his lips. “Do you like daddy?”
Jimin stays silent as the initial shock of the question lingers, but erupts
into giggles at daddy’s odd question. “That’s Jimin’s question? It’s so silly!”
Namjoon cracks a grin at the boy’s bright features, but takes his face in his
large, sturdy hands to refocus him.
“Daddy’s being serious, Jimin. Do you like daddy?”
“Of course I do,” he starts to say, when realization dawns upon him. His heart
thuds in his chest at the sudden epiphany and he stutters out, “W-wait, d-does
daddy m-meanlike-like?”
Namjoon is thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Yes, daddy means like-
like.”
The fact that they are step-brothers never even glimpses into JImin’s head as
he suddenly becomes delightfully bashful.
“Jiminnie’s embarrassed,” he mumbles, his emotions getting the better of him as
a lone tear betrays him and drips down his cheek.
“Why, baby?”
“B-because yes, h-he like-likes daddy but h-he s-shouldn’t like daddy.”
Namjoon frowns as he stares deep into his beloved baby boy’s eyes. Does he have
a conscious on the two of them being semi-related? Seohyun wouldn’t last a year
with Byunghun. Namjoon is about to verbalize this statement when Jimin
elaborates:
“Daddy’s s-so handsome and tall and s-strong, and Jimin isn’t a-a pretty g-
girl.”
Jimin sniffles as he watches his daddy’s eyes suddenly grow sad, and he panics,
thinking he’s disappointed him again.
“I’m s-sorry for liking d-daddy, h-he’s sorry—”
Namjoon hurriedly presses a fiery kiss to Jimin’s trembling, salty lips, and
the younger boy gasps at the ferocity of the action. He doesn’t understand why
Namjoon is kissing him after he confessed that he likes the older man, but then
Namjoon is whispering words of comfort against his lips and he melts.
“It’s okay, baby. You passed the test. You passed it with flying colors, love.
Daddy likes you too, more than you can imagine. Don’t be sorry for returning
those feelings, baby.”
Jimin’s tears start pouring out then, but this time out of genuine shock and
happiness.
“Daddy l-likes Jimin too?” He asks tentatively, and when Namjoon confirms this
with a soft, affectionate smile and a delicate, yes, his heart bursts and beams
into a thousand little suns.
 
 
Jimin is positively overwhelmed by the feeling of Namjoon everywhere—his hands
all over his naked, bare body; his breath tangling with the wisps of his hair;
his spit mingling with his own as they exchange kisses after kisses. He doesn’t
even have the time to be self-conscious as the CEO pleasures him with touches
on his skin and kisses on his lips.
When Namjoon trails his tongue down Jimin’s chest, down his belly button,
outlines the ridges of the soft muscles on his tummy, and slides down lower
until it almost reaches his private area, he panics and lets out a breathless
whine.
“No, daddy, t-that place is dirty,” he bleats, begging the older man not to
embarrass him any further and touch the area that is full of sin.
“Baby, you trust daddy, don’t you? Don’t you want your present?”
Yes, Jimin does want his present, he wants it oh so badly, but he doesn’t know
why it involves his private parts.
“Y-yes, I w-want my present...and I trust daddy.”
“Then believe me when I say that you make daddy feel so good, baby, I’m so
proud.”
The praise and positive reinforcement makes Jimin arch his back. A crystalline
bead of precum leaks from the delicate, pink slit on the head of his beautiful
cock. Namjoon watches in fascination as Jimin’s chest heaves up and down at the
mere words of praise, and he lifts his hand to finally palm the hardening
member sticking straight up from his pelvis.
“D-da—” Jimin moans, having never felt such a weird sensation in his penis.
He’s woken up with it hard some days, but terrified of his father finding out,
he’d quickly gotten rid of it by taking an arctic cold shower. He’s never
touched it except when he pees and the rough calluses of Namjoon’s hand paired
with the foreign feeling of someone else touching it makes Jimin almost cry in
frustration. This is exactly like the time Namjoon had touched him there
through his pants in the nurses office, but this time everything is heightened
tenfold without the extra barrier of his clothes.
“Does it feel good, Jimin?” Namjoon asks, stroking the soft, delicate cock with
his forefinger and thumb. He’s barely putting any pressure and Jimin’s already
writhing, and he feels his own dick twitching to be let out.
“I-I don’t k-know, I-I feel like I’m d-doing bad,” he whimpers, eyebrows
furrowing in worry. What if his mommy comes in and catches him doing such a
sinful thing? Oh, he wouldn’t be let out of the house for life! “Mommy’s g-
going to see,” he sobs.
Namjoon thumbs the boy’s slit and Jimin gasps, words choking in his throat. The
feeling of doing something wrong and going against his family’s morals, paired
with Namjoon’s skillful fingers—
“Mommy’s not going to see because daddy’s here. He’ll protect you, baby,”
Namjoon coos, lowering his head and inhaling the boy’s musky scent. He can’t
hold himself back anymore, he simple needs a taste.
He gives the boy’s head a teasing lick, swiping the sweet precum from the slit,
and Jimin can’t take it anymore. He already feels the overwhelming sensation of
having to pee again, and he tries to warn the CEO, but it’s already spurting
out and oh god, his face is red with humiliation.
Namjoon, who’d engulfed the entire length in his mouth at that moment, feels
the sticky substance shoot into the back of his throat and he moans at the
delicious, candy-like flavor, swallowing his cum and milking the boy dry.
“D-daddy, no—” Jimin cries, eyes watering with embarrassment and horror as he
watches Namjoon eat the pee that came out. “J-Jimin’s sorry, he’s sorry!”
“Baby, you taste so good,” Namjoon groans uncontrollably. He laps every single
drop that leaked out of his cock, swirling his tongue around every fold of the
boy’s groin. Once he's swallowed each and every precious dollop of Jimin's
white semen, he raises his head and crawls on top of him, brushing back the
boy’s black bangs.
“H-his pee—”
“Didn’t daddy tell you last time? It’s not pee, love.”
Jimin tries to wrack his brain for the said moment but his head is still fuzzy
from the blowjob.
“Cake tastes good to you, doesn’t it darling? Well, that tastes like the most
expensive cake to daddy.”
“R-really?” Jimin asks in wonder. He’s learning something new every day with
his daddy! “Can…...can ChimChim taste?”
Namjoon’s gaze grows dark as his painful erection strains in his boxers, and he
nearly growls into the boy’s ear. “Of course, baby. Would you like to taste
daddy?”
“Yes, Jimin wants to taste daddy’s cake.”
“That’s your present, baby. Daddy’s cum is your present. But we have to work up
to it, alright? I’ll make you feel good again.”
Jimin shivers in anticipation at Namjoon’s promise, and when the CEO extracts
himself to grab a bottle of clear liquid, he feels his little cock harden again
at the sight of Namjoon’s half-naked body.
“Spread your legs for me, love.”
Jimin obeys immediately, and Namjoon coats his fingers with the clear
substance. Jimin’s about to ask if it’s hand sanitizer when Namjoon circles his
slick fingers around his hole and he stiffens.
“T-that’s—”
“You are so soft,” Namjoon breathes, fingers probing at the dainty little ring.
“You trust daddy, yes?”
Jimin nods, for his trust in his daddy is the only thing that he is sure of at
that precise moment.
“Out loud, baby. Say it out loud.”
“Yes, I-I trust daddy—oh!”
Jimin grimaces as the Namjoon’s long, thin finger breaks the virginal ring of
muscle and sucks into the impossibly tight, hot cave of Jimin’s internal walls.
It’s a terribly unfamiliar feeling and Jimin isn’t so sure if he likes it or
not. It hurts and stings but not enough to bring to attention. And it feels
emotionally satisfying that Namjoon, his beloved daddy who now knows of his
feelings for him, is the one to elicit this strange, but pleasant feeling.
So Jimin just watches with his mouth hanging open as Namjoon sinks the finger
deeper into the area that he himself hasn’t ever touched. And when Namjoon
delves another slim finger in alongside the first, he purses his lips to make a
noise of discomfort, but then his eyes catch sight of the older man using his
free hand to pull the band of his boxers down. A cock twice the size of his own
springs out, impossibly straight and dark in hue. Jimin’s mouth, unbeknownst of
him, salivates and he completely forgets about the stinging stretch of his
tight, tight hole.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Namjoon praises, and Jimin sighs in pleasure. He
feels a bone-chilling sense of fulfillment whenever the CEO compliments him,
and he finds himself pushing back against the fingers to try to get Namjoon to
reinforce him even more.
“Shit, baby, you’re begging to be fucked, aren’t you?” Namjoon growls, adding a
third finger and thoroughly stretching the boy out.
“D-daddy, please,” Jimin pleads, instinctively opening his thin legs further to
welcome Namjoon even more into the depths of his body. He doesn’t even know
exactly what he’s begging for, but he just wants to taste Namjoon’s gift—his
cum. The fingers probe inside of him and as his daddy stretches him more and
more, the painful sensation is ebbing away until it's only but a dull sting.
“Almost there, love,” Namjoon grits, waiting until his three fingers slide in
and out with ease before slicking his cock up. He squirts more lube onto his
hand, and Jimin sits up and watches with hooded, curious eyes, as Namjoon rubs
the substance all over his length. His mouth waters again and he whimpers as he
imagines how good it felt when the older man had swallowed his little cock, and
if it would feel good to Namjoon if he did the same.
“Daddy, can....can Jimin taste?” He asks bashfully, and Namjoon stops his
ministrations.
“Would you like to taste daddy?” Namjoon asks, and the sight of Jimin nodding
eagerly and getting on his knees will forever be engrained into his memory.
Namjoon makes himself comfortable within the bundle of plush pillows and Jimin
nervously settles between the CEO’s thighs. He bends down and marvels at the
thickness, the color, of his daddy’s cock and oh—unbeknownst of him, saliva
dribbles from his open lips and lands right on the shaft of Namjoon’s hard
dick, and Jimin immediately feels a burst of hot red blush color his face in
embarrassment.
He’d accidentally drooled on his daddy’s cock.
“Holy fuck.”
Namjoon bucks his hips up at the sight and lets out the most provocative, feral
moan Jimin has ever heard in his life. He looks up beneath his lashes to see
Namjoon’s reaction but the man already has his fingers tangled in the boy’s
hair and is pulling his face down towards the tip of his erection. From this
close, he can see the shiny bulb at the tip of his penis leaking a clear drop
of fluid. When he grasps the cock in his small hands he can feel the
sturdiness, the hardness beneath the soft texture of the penis itself. He can
feel the veins bulging from the length and he can smell Namjoon’s musk mixed
with his body wash.
Jimin follows Namjoon’s example from earlier and licks kittenishly at the tip,
lapping at the transparent goo collecting at the head. There’s a little slit
there and he remembers Namjoon digging his tongue into his, so he copies him,
and it makes Namjoon moan so loudly that it would have frightened him if he
weren’t so turned on.
In a moment of bravery, he wraps his lips around the bulb and sucks like he
would one of his favorite strawberry lollipops, but daddy’s cock is so much
tastier, he thinks. It tastes like salted caramel—a hint of saltiness with
sweet, decadent undertones. His daddy’s cock tastes like Namjoon, and he is
entirely addicted.
Wanting to get more of the taste in his palate, he sinks himself down, swallows
the enormous rod deeper into his mouth, wriggles his tongue so he tastes
everything and doesn’t leave behind any of Namjoon’s flavorful essence. He
grabs the length that doesn't fit in his mouth with his small, inexperienced
hands, and he strokes up and down in time with his sucks.
“Jimin, fuck, stop,” he hears, but he doesn’t listen. He wants to keep going,
wants to keep suckling the tasty clear fluid from the tip, but the hands in his
hair pull and he gasps, lifting himself from Namjoon’s dick. Ropes of precum
mixed with Jimin’s viscous saliva string out from his throat and drips onto
Namjoon’s cock. It pools at the base of the CEO’s member and mixes with the
neat hair surrounding his groin.
“You were going to make me cum, baby,” Namjoon laughs breathlessly, and Jimin
beams. He was about to make daddy feel good, like he did earlier? The thought
of pleasuring the man gives him immense satisfaction and he wants to actually
make him cum. But before he can lean down again, Namjoon is pulling him up to
kiss his wet mouth hungrily.
“Are you ready to fuck daddy, baby boy?” Namjoon growls, kneading the boy’s ass
and slipping his fingers back into Jimin’s hole.
“Y-yes,” Jimin gasps, even though he doesn’t exactly know what “fucking”
entails. But then Namjoon is pulling Jimin’s globes down and lifting his own
powerful hips up and Jimin feels something big, something hot poke at his
tender hole.
“I’m going to put my cock in you now, baby. Remember where my fingers were in
before? It’s going to be like that, except with daddy’s cock. Is that okay?”
Jimin moans as Namjoon rubs his slick member against his crack, and he rubs
against it greedily.
“I-is it going to hurt, daddy?” He asks tentatively.
“Yes, it will hurt because it’s your first time. But daddy will make you feel
good, baby.”
Jimin feels his little prick getting harder again at Namjoon’s words. He
doesn’t care if it hurts because he’s always been able to tolerate high amounts
of pain anyway. He asked because...he wants it to hurt. Should he tell daddy
this? Would Namjoon think he's a freak for wanting his little hole to hurt?
“Are you ready?”
Jimin snaps out of his mini daze and nods. “Y-yes.”
The tip breaks into the initial strain Jimin’s soft muscle puts up, and Jimin
whines as his ring is stretched far past what he was used to when Namjoon had
his fingers plunged into him.
“D-daddy,” he whimpers, and Namjoon waits until he’s adjusted to the mere tip
before sinking deeper into the boy’s depths, millimeter by millimeter.
“O-oh my god,” Jimin curses, sitting up and placing his hands on Namjoon’s
broad chest. This angle causes the dick to penetrate him deeper, and he finds
himself breathless as he tries to adjust to the raging size in him.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby, you’re doing such a good job,” Namjoon
grits, hands gripping for dear life on Jimin’s thighs. Jimin’s arms shake as he
holds himself up, not moving a hair as he is locked into place. He’s not
stupid—he can imagine how impossibly good it feels for his daddy, being in such
a tight case. Well, he doesn’t know how tight he is but he feels tight, like
there’s no room in there at all. He squeezes himself just to check, and Namjoon
lets out another deep, vicious moan.
“Jesus Christ, Jimin,” Namjoon gasps. “Baby, you have to tell me when you’re
ready, otherwise daddy doesn’t know.”
“I-I think I’m ready, daddy,” Jimin says. Frankly, the thick, pulsating length
in him never hurt him. It is painful, yes, but he quite likes the burning,
stretching feeling. If his straight, hard cock propped proudly on Namjoon’s
pelvis is anything to go by, he is in mind-numbing pleasure and he wants more.
The absolute bliss heightens even more as Namjoon starts rocking his hips up,
and the first slide up and down the raging length nearly has Jimin in tears. He
chokes on his spit as Namjoon gauges his reactions, and when the man decides
that Jimin is thoroughly enjoying the pain—the stretch—he starts thrusting with
fervor.
Jimin would have been embarrassed by the squelching of the slick cock ramming
in and out of his tight hole, or by the erotic sound of his ass hitting the
base of Namjoon’s dick. He would have been humiliated by the tantalizing moans
erupting from his sinfully wet, open lips.
But he’s too far gone in the bone liquefying pleasure and he starts bouncing on
Namjoon’s lap on his own, wanting the cock to plunge faster and deeper and
harder into his hot cave.
Namjoon wraps his arms around Jimin’s shaking shoulders and pulls the boy down
so their lips attach, and the curve of Namjoon’s cock rubs against a certain
button deep inside Jimin that he didn’t even know existed. If the pleasure from
before was intense, this was just violent.
“Daddy! F-faster, please, right there!” He screams, and Namjoon props his legs
up on the bed and starts plummeting into the boy almost demonically. A dainty
string of Jimin’s precum drips from his cock, flying wildly as his dick bounces
in time with Namjoon’s thrusts. It slaps against his and Namjoon's tummies, and
stains both with smears of precum. Tears run uncontrollably down Jimin’s red
cheeks as the pleasure becomes too intense, too all-consuming to withhold.
Namjoon, feeling the clenching of Jimin’s burning hot walls, wraps his fingers
around the base of Jimin’s little dick and holds it there.
“Ask for permission, baby,” Namjoon snarls, clenching the makeshift cockring
and preventing the boy from cumming.
“N-no, daddy, please! C-can I? Can I...” Jimin sobs, mind going hazy with
almost painful pleasure. He's stopped bouncing as his entire body goes stiff in
the frantic need for release.
“Beg properly,” Namjoon demands, pounding spastically into the boy now,
repeatedly punching into the little button inside Jimin.
Jimin wracks his brain for the word that daddy had mentioned before. It started
with a C...
“D-daddy! Cum! Please let Jimin cum, please, please, please—”
Namjoon releases his circle around Jimin’s shaft and starts stroking it
viciously, and Jimin’s breath catches violently in his throat. A sob rips out
as Namjoon uses his other hand to flick at his silken nipple, and he feels
himself clenching so hard that Namjoon can barely move. Namjoon’s name stutters
out of his lips as he cums, splattering and painting his daddy’s tummy and
chest with ropes of delicious white.
Immense exhaustion finally causes his elbows to give and he collapses right on
top of his semen. Only when he catches his breath does he hear Namjoon moan in
his ear, “Do you want daddy’s cum inside of you?”
Jimin shakes his head then, sluggishly pushing himself up.
“Jiminnie wants to eat,” he bleats, and Namjoon pulls out. The CEO lays Jimin
down on the comforter before straddling the boy’s torso and stroking his rod.
From the close distance Jimin can smell a pleasant sort of musk from Namjoon’s
cock, and he pushes himself up onto his elbows to wrap his silky slips around
the tip.
The delicate touch against his sensitive bulb tips Namjoon over the edge and he
cums almost painfully, spurting his essence directly into Jimin’s mouth.
The boy drinks it all in, swishing the gooey substance with his tongue so the
taste coats every inch of his mouth. It tastes so, so good and he sucks at the
bulb of Namjoon’s dick again, hoping to milk it a bit more.
When Namjoon falls on top of him and kisses him with a tenderness that
contradicts his previous actions, Jimin feels an overwhelming sense of warmth
burst in his heart like a trillion little butterflies.
This is indeed the best gift he could ever ask for.
 




                                       ⊗
 
 
 
 
It’s three months into their relationship and Namjoon is training Jimin to
respond actively to his commands and to worship his words, especially when
they're in the company of themselves. They’ve had sex a couple of times after
their first, and two months later Namjoon asked Jimin what he thought their
relationship meant to each other. Jimin had answered with, “You are my daddy,
and I am your little boy.”
After that they had a long discussion about what sex was (since Jimin wasn’t
too experienced apart from his times with Namjoon) and if Jimin liked feeling
Little. Jimin had said that yes, he felt comfortable feeling Little around
Namjoon and that if the older man was there to take care of him, he was willing
to give himself to Namjoon to take care of. He liked that feeling and whenever
he wasn’t around Namjoon, he craved for the older man to treasure and protect
him.
Namjoon then sat with Jimin for another two hours on the couch and asked of a
lot of things that made Jimin blush and quiver with anticipation. An account
goes like this:
“How about choking, baby? Do you think you’d like that? Or should we cross that
one off the list?”
Jimin, having never been asphyxiated before, shrugged and buried his face into
Namjoon’s shoulder, inhaling the clean detergent smell.
“I don’t know. Can we try?”
“Sure thing, love.” Namjoon squiggled a neat question mark next to the word,
‘choking,’ and moved on to the next kink. “How about hitting? Like whips,
flogs, and spanking. Do you like those, baby?”
Jimin bit his lip as his imagination ran wild. When he was in middle school and
corporal punishment was still all too common amongst the older teachers, he
would watch his peers get hit on their hands with a long stick for being bad.
For some reason, the crack of the thin wooden stick splintering on their palms
always made Jimin blush with unfamiliar arousal. The students would always
complain about the impact stinging and getting hot, and he imagined feeling
that weirdly stimulating sensation on his own skin and he would have to splash
water on his face to cool himself down.
Hearing the words come out of Namjoon’s mouth in context of their sexual
relationship made Jimin tremble and he answered with a breathless “yes.”
They went through a lot more things, such as the things Jimin didn’t like
(there weren’t many things, really) and his safe words. Namjoon explained that
people usually had a yellow word to signify them coming close to being
uncomfortable, a red word to voice wanting to stop completely. He proceeded to
then note that Jimin would only have one red word that he could use any time he
felt violated, uncomfortable, or threatened, and Namjoon would stop immediately
and they could talk about what made Jimin feel that way, how they can avoid it
in the future, and how Jimin would feel better at that moment. He clarified
that anysense of unwanted pain deserved to be stopped immediately, and that
having a yellow word would be too complicated. They decided cheese toast would
be Jimin’s safe word because he didn’t like cheese toast.
“What’s your safe word, daddy?” Jimin asked, writing down the word in a little
blank space Namjoon had left on the paper. His handwriting was scrawled and
messy compared to Namjoon’s but he quite liked the contrast.
Namjoon chuckled as he hugged the boy closer to his warmth. “I don’t have a
safe word because I’m here to take care of you, baby. You don’t make me
uncomfortable in any way, but if you would like, I can make up a word to make
you feel more secure. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Jimin answered, staring as Namjoon took Jimin’s hand in his and wrote
down ‘shoebox’ underneath his unruly handwriting.
Jimin giggled. “Shoebox? That’s so random, daddy.”
“And cheese toast isn’t?” Namjoon laughed, pressing fluttering kisses to
Jimin’s juicy, happy mouth. “Hmm, looks like you’re taking care of daddy too.”
Jimin beamed at this. “Really? Jimin takes care of daddy too?”
“Yes, baby. In more ways than you can imagine. You make daddy’s day so much
brighter and truthfully, before I met you, I was living life like a zombie. You
are the most precious jewel in my life and I love you.” Namjoon smiled, kissing
Jimin’s quivering lips and stroking his fingers through the boy’s fine, soft
hair.
“I love you too,” Jimin answered. And they spent the next couple of hours into
the night testing new waters in the beautiful world of BDSM.
 
 
 
 
 
Present time. Jimin, having not adjusted to listening so adamantly to his
daddy’s commands around other people, is starting to behave more and more out
of the line and Namjoon has had enough. Whenever he asks Jimin to do something,
the boy would hesitate as if doubting his daddy’s words, and Namjoon would
often have to repeat his order again.
To train the little puppy to adhere to his laws, he’s ordered a little harness
online and it arrives just in time for the dinner that Byunghun has set up with
his family.
“Daddy, Jimin doesn’t want to put it on,” the little peach whimpers, eyeing the
leather strap before him. It doesn’t look too scary, per se, but he knows that
his mommy’s dinner is in an hour and if daddy wants him to put that on, he
knows he will have to endure through the night with it. But his little penis is
already hardening ever so slightly at what’s to come, and how his daddy will
take care of him.
Lately Jimin has been defying his daddy because he isn’t used to the attention
and love that he’s been neglected the past 18 years. So it unsettles him
whenever Namjoon tells him to “lock the door, Jimin, or bad people will get in”
or “don’t sit so close to the tv, you’ll ruin your eyesight.” He simply doesn’t
know how to react to Namjoon’s nurturing and he is entirely ignorant to the
fact that he is wearing his daddy’s patience.
So when Namjoon calls Jimin to his bedroom and Jimin takes his time because he
just has to beat level 9 of the phone game he’s playing, he’s met with
Namjoon’s mischievous gaze and a cardboard box in his lap.
He’s ordered to assume kneeling position, which is sitting on his heels on the
ground, knees pushed apart, and arms together behind his back. He does as told,
albeit a little sloppily as he’s still getting used to being in such a
vulnerable position, and peers up at his daddy who’s still sitting on the foot
of the bed. That’s when Namjoon reveals the leather harness and Jimin’s eyes
widen, mind scrambling for an excuse not to be put in the contraption.
“You’ve been a very disobedient boy, Jimin,” Namjoon sighs, unhooking the
harness and studying the thing. There’s a little nub that looks suspiciously
like his favorite vibrating, pink butt plug and Jimin shivers. “Daddy won’t be
so patient after tonight, my pet. If this doesn’t work and you still behave
like the bad boy that you are, then I will just have to find myself another
more obedient boy to play with.”
Jimin panics as his entire being freezes. “No! No, daddy, please, Jimin is
sorry! He’ll behave good from now on, he’ll be good!”
“That’s what you said a week ago when I had to tell you three times to put away
your dishes,” Namjoon says, syllables coated in thick disappointment. “This
will be your last chance, baby, or this can’t work out.”
Jimin feels an ashamed, guilty tear trek down his cheek. He’s upset daddy so
much that he’s considering not loving Jimin anymore. The thought frightens
Jimin so much that he’s willing to listen to daddy’s any command to make it up
to him.
“Take off your clothes, love,” Namjoon instructs, and Jimin immediately starts
unbuttoning the white dress shirt that he’s sported for the special occasion of
seeing his mommy. A month ago Jimin had moved in with Namjoon at his
penthouse—not that Seohyun really cared, though she is starting to get
suspicious—and Namjoon had promised that they would move into a better
accompanying home as soon as Jimin graduates from high school. When Jimin
questioned why they needed to move when the penthouse was more than enough
space for the two of them, the CEO had answered that he needed a space for
Jimin’s playroom that he’s currently designing. Excited at the prospect of
having a playroom built specifically for him, he didn’t even think to question
what exactly the room would hold.
Jimin takes off both his shirt and black slacks until he’s down only to his
pale blue briefs. His fingers hesitate on the waistband of the undergarment and
he looks up at his daddy, as if to ask, “this too?”
“Yes, Jimin, take your panties off too.”
Jimin slips them off and resumes his position back on the floor, but this time
he is thoroughly humiliated at having his legs spread and his cock vulnerable
to Namjoon’s hungry gaze. It's already so hard and it sticks straight up from
the stretch of his legs.
“Get up,” Namjoon commands, and Jimin unsteadily gets to his feet with his
hands still locked behind him. Namjoon smiles before kissing Jimin’s pouting
lips, and the boy almost melts in his spot. Namjoon’s kisses are his absolute
favorite and he can never ever get enough. The man pulls away before Jimin has
the time to get fully erect and holds the harness in front of Jimin’s calves,
like they’re a set of panties.
“Step into this, baby, raise your legs,” Namjoon coos, and Jimin wobbily pokes
his legs through the opening of the straps. It’s just like a pair of panties!
Maybe they won’t be so bad. But oh, what is his daddy doing?
There’s a silver ring in the front and Namjoon gently slides Jimin’s penis in,
and oh no.
“No, daddy! Jimin doesn’t like cock rings! Please take it out,” he wails, fear
shooting up his spine. Cock rings are his least favorite things in the world!
They make his wee wee so painful and he has to hold in his cum until his daddy
takes the ring off!
“Shh, baby, this is part of your punishment. If you’d listened to daddy from
the beginning, you wouldn’t be in this situation, would you?”
Namjoon marvels at how snug the silver ring fits around the base of Jimin’s
cock and under his balls. The ring itself is so tiny and it’s a perfect match!
The harness itself is thin and soft so it wouldn’t irritate Jimin too much
underneath his clothes. He steps back and licks his lips at the sight of the
black sex object wrapped so intimately around Jimin’s plush, white skin. Oh,
how he absolutely thrives off of the juxtaposition of what the harness stands
for, and what Jimin himself represents.
Sex versus innocence. BDSM versus purity.
“Get into your floor position on the bed, baby, you’re doing so well.”
Jimin climbs onto the bed and sinks on his knees before bending over so his
cheek and shoulders are completely adjacent to the comforters. His arms are
above his head, on the pillows, and crossed so his wrists are together.. In
this position, his hole is completely vulnerable and he whimpers as Namjoon
blows cold hair on it. The ring clenches and Namjoon feels his dick stir in his
own jeans.
“Here, love, hold this.”
Jimin shifts so one arm is free and something is placed into his palm. It’s
slippery with lube and he is almost 100 percent sure that it’s the pink butt
plug from earlier.
“Now, stick it in your ass, baby. And don’t make a sound.”
Jimin holds back a whine as he reaches behind him and places the warm tip near
his crack, trying to locate his little entrance. The plug itself isn’t too big,
shaped like a spade with the base thicker than the point, with a flat stand
attached to the base. He finds his hole with the tip and he grits his teeth as
he pushes it in, breaking into the ring and sliding in almost too easily. The
hole swallows the plug and Jimin breathes in sharply when Namjoon replaces his
hand at the base and starts wriggling it.
“Is it in there snug, Jimin?” He asks, watching in interest as it makes little
wet sounds as he breaches the hole just a tiny bit before plunging the thing
back into the heat. The burning stretch of his tight hole and the feeling of
being filled makes Jimin’s little cock harden in the cock ring.
“D-daddy,” Jimin whimpers, hands gripping the back of his calves. A long,
sticky string of precum drips onto the bedsheet and Namjoon gives the plug a
final tap before attaching it to the back of the harness. Now, it’s secure and
Jimin wouldn’t be able to take the plug out unless he completely removes the
entire harness. “It hurts, daddy, it hurts already.”
“I know, baby, but look how needy you are. You’re already filling into the cock
ring and we’ve only just begun!”
“Daddy,” Jimin cries, burying his humiliated face into the bed. A strong hand
grabs at his hair and pulls the boy up, and Jimin gasps at the delicious pain.
“Come on, sweetheart. We have a dinner to attend.”
 
 
 
Jimin wants to cry. He wants to sob and kick his feet and throw a tantrum
because his cock is ridiculously hard in his pants and the plug plunges
impossibly deeper every time he sits on it. Jimin is scared to open his mouth
because he might accidentally moan in front of his mommy, and she won’t like
that at all. When Jimin was helping set the table—tonight Seohyun made dinner
herself instead of bugging the chef—Namjoon had bent the boy over the expensive
wood and poked at the plug, nudging it almost directly against his prostate.
Before he’d been able to react, though, his mother came in and Namjoon pulled
him up to his feet.
“Oh honey, can you bring the salad bowl from the kitchen?” She’d asked, and
Jimin shakily agreed and waddled to said kitchen.
Byunghun arrives from the hospital thirty minutes later and they’re all settled
at the table by then. Byunghun sits at the very edge, overlooking his entire
family. Seohyun sits around the corner next to her husband, and Jimin right
beside his mother. Namjoon is across from Jimin and the table is not so large
that he can’t reach over and touch Jimin’s plate if he wanted to.
“So, darling, how are the plans for your new house going? Find anything yet?”
Darling. Seohyun called Namjoon darling, when he has yet to hear such a name of
endearment aimed towards her own son.
“No, step-mother, we haven’t decided on one yet. I’ve got a couple on hold in
Gangnam, but Jimin doesn’t like the neighborhood there.”
“Oh, is Jimin holding up your plans?” She asks, forcefully cutting into her
steak. “Don’t mind him, Namjoon. He’s only your little brother, after all. Do
whatever makes you happiest.”
“Obviously, we’ve taken quite a liking to each other, eomoni. I’ve always
wanted a brother like him.” Namjoon smirks as Jimin blushes visibly and
struggles to use the fancy utensils in his hands.
“No but really, if he’s too much of a handful for you I can take him back. He
likes Byunghun daddy’s house, right?” She turns to him and Namjoon watches with
annoyance as she scolds him for not answering. Namjoon finishes cutting up his
steak into small, neat pieces, and sets his fork and knife down. Before Jimin
can dwell on being scolded by his mommy again, he slides the plate across the
table and takes Jimin's untouched steak.
“Here, Jimin, have this one,” he suggests. "Hyung cut it up for you."
“Thank you,” Jimin mewls, happily forking into a rather small piece and shoving
it into his juicy mouth.
Seohyun sniffs in distaste and skewers her steak with strain.
“Byunghun-sshi, are you enjoying the food? I spent all day making this meal.
The kitchen is a mess!” She chirps, looking towards her exhausted husband for a
response.
He pours wine in his glass for himself and makes a noise of noncommittal. He
sounds bored. Namjoon vaguely wonders why she hasn’t left him yet.
“Jimin! You almost tipped over your glass! You could have spilled juice all
over my dress!”
Jimin sinks into himself as his mother yet again frets and reprimands him for
being careless. It’s so humiliating to be yelled at in front of Namjoon and it
reminds him all too much of the first dinner that had bonded them together the
night Seohyun and Byunghun got married. He feels a growing pit of
disappointment in himself stir in his stomach, and all he’s focused on is his
mother’s biting words, when he feels a gentle whir from deep within him.
He blanches and his eyes shoot up to lock with Namjoon’s piercing gaze. The toy
inside of him is vibrating. The tip of the plug grazes his prostate and the
vibrating makes it that much more intense, and he almost doubles in on himself.
His knuckles whiten on his knees and Seohyun’s yapping sounds so far away, so
distant compared to the sinful pleasure he’s receiving. And right when
Seohyun’s head turns to look at her son because he’s not responding, Namjoon
asks her where her dress is from because he’s never seen it before and it’s
like her attention has never been on Jimin in the first place.
“It’s a Christian Louboutin classic, Namjoon! How could you have never seen it?
I have matching heels too, look!”
Jimin tries to control his expression because right now, it’s a mixture of both
a grimace and a face of pain. He hangs his head and inwardly whines as the
vibrations increase, rubbing directly against his prostate now. His lips part
in pleasure and he’s about to let out a cry when something pokes at his calves
from underneath the table. It’s Namjoon’s foot, and Jimin shakes his head. He
wants to tell his daddy to stop, he can’t take it anymore! but he knows he will
be in an immense amount of trouble if he vocalizes this.
“Jimin stop that,” Seohyun scolds, but Jimin barely hears it. All he feels is
the plug inside of his ass, his cock choking in the blasted ring that’s taut
around it, and Namjoon’s foot caressing the inside of his thigh. And the sounds
of his mother tutting at his actions are completely disregarded as his mind
hazily fills with only the thoughts of Namjoon, and how the plug embodies the
presence of his daddy and his protectiveness towards the boy. The plug grounds
him and he isn’t so scared of mommy anymore, because he’s feeling so much
pleasure from the little sex toy and from Namjoon’s toe nudging at his painful
erection. Seohyun seems like a million eons away and he doesn’t even register
Byunghun leaving to use the restroom because he’s nearing the agonizing
sensation of having a dry orgasm.
Does he need permission from his daddy to cum dryly? The last time he’d
experienced it, daddy didn’t care that he didn’t ask for permission. But he
remembers daddy’s words from before, and how if he disobeyed, he would find
another good boy to play with. But oh, he can’t hold it in any longer!
“If you find a place send me lots of pictures! I’m sure it will be beautiful.”
Jimin looks up at his master as Seohyun rambles on about their future house,
and pleads with his eyes to give him permission.
“I would love to see how you manage your feng shui, Namjoon.”
His lips part in a excruciatingly painful O and he’s about to scream, “Please
let Jimin cum!” when Namjoon averts his eyes from Seohyun to look directly into
his, and says,
“Come if you want.”
“Oh, is that a formal invitation? I would love to visit!” Seohyun exclaims,
ignorant to her little son grabbing desperately onto Namjoon’s socked foot
still rubbing at his crotch as his entire body silently wracks in agonizing
pleasure—pleasure that Namjoon gave him permission to experience. He shuts his
eyes as they roll to the back of his head and a submissive tear leaks down his
right cheek. His cock is still hard even as it twitches through the dry orgasm
and he’s in so much pain that he can’t even move, but his toes are still
curling at the intensity of it all.
The vibrations in his walls stop and Jimin almost cries from relief because his
poor prostate is raw and oversensitive. He lets out a shaky exhale and opens
his eyes to see that the dinner is going on without him, and that even though
he almost spilled his drink and didn’t respond to his mommy on time, Namjoon is
there and he loves him even when he feels the Littlest.
 
 
 
 
 
“Take your shirt off, baby, let daddy see it,” Namjoon orders, his fingers
fumbling to unbutton his own shirt. Jimin complies and nearly rips the thing
off his torso in hopes to get his daddy’s dick inside of him faster. After
dessert and tea, they’d escaped to the bathroom on the third floor of
Byunghun’s mansion. Seohyun is cleaning the kitchen and Byunghun is in his
studies, and Namjoon can’t wait another second to fuck his little boy's tight
ass.
“You did so well today, Jimin,” Namjoon coos, running his hands all over
Jimin’s soft muscles and tracing the straps of the harness that peeks out from
under his pants. “You didn’t make a sound and you came after I gave you
permission. You are such a good boy, and daddy doesn’t doubt you anymore.”
Jimin beams proudly like he’s been given the key to Seoul. He’s relieved that
his daddy trusts him again and he thinks he will never forget this valuable
lesson.
“Jimin did good?” He squeaks, gasping when Namjoon pulls the strap at the back
and shifts the plug in his ass.
“Yes, baby, you did perfectly. I’m so proud of you.”
Namjoon unbuttons Jimin’s pants and bends the boy over the sink, keeping his
head right against the mirror with a hand tangled in Jimin’s hair.
“My, your little cock is still hard. Do you want to cum, little slut?” Namjoon
sneers, unclipping plug from the harness and pulling Jimin’s penis out of the
attached cock ring. Jimin almost cums right then, because the freedom his
little dick has from the cusp of the ring and Namjoon’s large hands skimming
the sensitive skin is too much for him. But he knows better and he holds it in
with a scream.
“Answer daddy, love. Or do you need a lesson on that, too?”
“N-no! Daddy, Jimin wants to cum! He wants—no, needs to! Please,” he wails, and
Namjoon gently pulls the plug out from his raw hole. He then proceeds to shove
the thing in Jimin’s mouth and he winces at the taste of himself coating his
tongue, and the feeling of his warmth thoroughly heating the plastic thing so
it’s hot to the touch.
“Shh, we don’t want mommy to find out about us just yet, baby.” Namjoon unzips
his black jeans and pulls it down just enough so his cock springs out. It’s
slick with hours of precum soaking into the skin and the cool air makes Namjoon
groan.
“Pleath daddy, plea fuck Jimin, he need to cum tho badwee,” Jimin sobs around
the plug. He juts out his ass even more so it rubs against his daddy’s hard,
curved cock, and he moans at the mere feeling of it against his crack.
“Spread your cheeks, baby, but keep your face against the mirror,” Namjoon
grits. Jimin obeys and winds his arms back to grasp his supple cheeks in both
hands and spread them erotically. His pink, sensitive hole is exposed,
tantalizing Namjoon to plunge into his heat. And plunge he does, for even the
CEO can’t endure another grueling second of teasing the boy. The stretch from
earlier and the precum coating his dick makes the slide easier than if he’d
thrusted in raw. Jimin’s teeth clenches harshly on the pink plastic as his
daddy’s massive cock fills him to the max, and the mirror fogs as he breathes
desperately against it.
Namjoon doesn’t give the boy excessive time to adjust as he immediately slides
out and back in, ramming inside of Jimin’s scorching heat. The feeling of the
man's ribbed meat pounding in and out of his already sensitive prostate makes
tears of pleasure soak into his cheeks and drip down his chin. He sets a
demonic pace and every violent thrust pushes Jimin's sweat-stained forehead up
the mirror.
"Daddy! F-faster, please, nngh!" Jimin bawls, the plug falling from his wailing
mouth and dropping into the sink below. Namjoon starts thrusting into him so
hysterically that the soaps and towels perched on the sink teeter off, crashing
to the tiled floor noisily. However, the sound of skin slapping wet skin
overpowers it and Jimin feels himself venturing to a type of mild subspace that
only happens when his orgasm is prolonged over a long period of time.
“D-daddy! Daddy, please! Jimin cums! Let Jiminnie cum!”
"Does my little cock whore want to cum?" Namjoon snarls as he continues to slap
into the boy's tight muscle.
“Daddy please,” Jimin sobs, tears positively waterfalling down his face as his
prostate is repeatedly jammed with Namjoon’s unforgiving cock. “Please let
Jimin cum!”
“You promise to obey daddy from now on? Only good boys get to cum, baby, and
good boys are those who listen to their daddy’s words,” Namjoon growls into
Jimin’s ear. “Daddy’s word is law, Jimin, do you understand?”
“Yes! Yes, Jimin understands! He will listen to daddy and obey him and be a
good boy! Please let him cum, master!”
“Good, good boy,” Namjoon praises, and his large, calloused hand slinks down to
stroke Jimin’s leaking cock with practiced vigor. Jimin’s breath catches in his
raw throat as he feels his painful orgasm rip through him and he spurts his
essence all over his tummy, the sink, and the now dirty mirror. Flecks of black
perimeters his vision as Namjoon continues to ram himself into Jimin’s compact
heat and his elbows are unable to sustain his weight anymore. Namjoon’s moans
grow louder in volume and Jimin doesn’t even have the energy to ask if he may
drink daddy’s cum. Namjoon finishes in his ass with a final groan and Jimin
sighs contentedly at the feeling of his seed in his body.
“Daddy’s so proud of you,” he hears as he pants into his reflection and tries
to regain his mentality. Namjoon fetches the plug that had been abandoned
amidst the frantic fucking and pulls his cock out before plugging the semen in
Jimin’s sweet hole with the toy. It feels comfortable now because his daddy’s
cock had stretched him so thoroughly that the plug feels like a toothpick
compared to it. It keeps Namjoon’s cum from leaving his body so soon and he
relishes in the feeling of carrying it in himself.
“I love you, baby boy,” Namjoon coos, and they share an hour to themselves to
regain composure.
 
 
 
                                       ⊗
 
 
 
 
Jimin finally answers the question Namjoon has wanted to know four months into
their relationship. The question of:
“Do you see yourself as a girl?”
Namjoon remembers back to the first time he’d asked the question to the
unsuspecting boy, and he clearly recalls Jimin becoming visibly upset by the
topic and refusing to answer. But when Namjoon comes home to their shared
penthouse one night after a long shift at work, and finds Jimin waiting for him
in his favorite pale purple dress, he asks the question again during dinner.
“No, Jiminnie is not a girl,” the boy answers, stabbing his fork into the
tomato spaghetti and twirling it into a bundle of pasta. The forwardness of the
answer shows how much Jimin has grown as an individual, and Namjoon finds
himself bursting with pride.
“Can you explain to daddy how you feel?”
“Jimin…..wants to be a girl because girls can like boys, but I don’t want to be
one. Not really, anyway.”
Namjoon is thoughtful as he watches the boy slurp his noodles and reach for his
apple juice. He has a billion questions flitting through his mind but he
decides to question the boy slowly, as to not startle him.
“So when you wear dresses, do you feel girly or are you a boy in a dress?”
Jimin frowns. “I….don’t know,” he starts. “Dresses make me feel comfortable but
I am still a boy. Sometimes mommy would let me wear makeup but not too much!”
His eyebrows scrunch in frustration. “Jiminnie is confused.”
Namjoon smiles affectionately as he wipes a splatter of tomato sauce from the
boy’s plump lips. “You feel like yourself in dresses, don’t you? Not a girl,
not a boy, but just someone you feel comfortable being.”
“Yes!” Jimin agrees, wondering how his daddy put his thoughts in words. “Jimin
is Jimin in dresses. And in pants. He’s Jimin with daddy!”
Namjoon’s heart melts at the adorable, proud glint in Jimin’s curved eyes and
he leans in to paint the boy’s face in little butterfly kisses. Jimin giggles,
delighted, and his smile stretches across his entire expression. There’s
practically a glow emitting from the boy.
“Daddy’s glad you feel like yourself around him, baby. I’m so proud of who
you’ve become. It must have been confusing, going through these thoughts alone,
huh?”
Jimin nods solemnly, frowning as he remembers back to facing his gender
identity confusion all on the lonesome. His mommy refused to buy him prettier
dresses that fit his figure, and his daddy burned all of his girly belongings
with a match and gasoline. His classmates called him a fairy and made sexual
jokes towards him. Namjoon is the only person who he feels he can be himself
around, and it’s a huge burden weighted off of his dainty shoulders.
Namjoon is also the only person who doesn’t question his infant-like qualities.
Jimin is not dumb—he knows how he acts and that other boys his age do not act
like this. He knows his infantilism is a side effect of trauma that he
experienced when he was nine years old and he knows he can’t control it.
His classmates, however, do not know this. His real daddy doesn’t know this,
nor does his mother. Seohyun knows some aspects of it but she doesn’t know the
psychology behind it, and his split personality.
Around his mommy and daddy he acts like an obedient, introverted, and gay son.
His mommy blames his love for the color pink and his childish palate on his
sexuality (as if liking goldfish crackers and apple juice is a side effect for
being gay). His daddy thinks there’s something wrong with his brain and Jimin
knows it’s not that, but his father is convinced.
Around his classmates he is incredibly shy but he doesn’t speak like he does at
home. Sure, his speech isn’t on the same level as some of his other incredibly
intelligent peers, but he doesn’t talk like a little stuttering baby in class.
He tries to tuck away his tendencies because he’s embarrassed, as if people
like him are not worth being around “normal” people like Jung Hunchul and the
rest of the school. Of course his bullies like to remind him of that every
single day, but Jimin has learned to just take it like the little naturally
submissive boy he is and to not tattletale.
Namjoon is the only person in the entire world that Jimin feels completely and
utterly comfortable around. Whenever he sees the older man, the barrier around
his fragile heart crumbles and he feels entirely capable of acting the way he
wants to act. Namjoon seems to know that when they go out, Jimin will almost
always want chocolate milk over soda or wine. He knows that Jimin gets
distracted by little things when walking the streets, and to praise him
excessively when he does something well. He knows that he detests crowded
places and that he likes to walk nearly pressed against the CEO when there are
a lot of people around. He knows every microscopic detail about Jimin and it
makes him feel like himself, which is someone who he’s been striving to be for
years.
Jimin remembers telling Namjoon about his past, which is something he's kept a
secret for years and years now. He remembers how eager and understanding the
older man was, and how good it made Jimin feel. Up until he was ten years old,
he lived under the same roof as a compulsive alcoholic father. His mother was
suffering from a stomach disease so she often needed extra help to do simple
tasks such as using the bathroom or sitting up. Jimin had to mature at an
incredibly early age to aid his mother. He cooked for his family, did the
laundry, cleaned the house—all the the tender and impressionable of six years
old. He wasn't allowed to act like a child. He was forced to act like a twenty
year old in a six year old's body.
His mother passed away when he was ten years old. He was taken away from his
father by child protection services and Seohyun soon adopted him, for she felt
like she was missing a component in her lonely life. Jimin didn't know if
Seohyun truly loved him, but she took care of him for the past eight years and
dealt with his weird child-like tendencies. Therapists say he acts this way
because it's his technique for dealing with trauma. He was stripped ten years
of his childhood, so he was making up for them by acting like an infant. He
supposed the reasoning made sense, but Namjoon doubted that it was that clean
cut.
When Jimin told Namjoon all this, the older man didn't look at him pitifully
like he'd expected him to. No, he just hugged Jimin and said that he will
compensate for all of his difficult times with years and years of love. He
whispered words of affection until Jimin no longer felt sad at recollecting his
past, and he truly did not feel any remorse, for those bad experiences all lead
him to meet his lover.
So when Namjoon licks away the sauce still on his lips and wipes the tears from
his eyes, Jimin feels so cared for that he kisses daddy this time, right in the
middle of the man’s mouth.
“I love you daddy,” he whispers against his daddy’s laughing lips.
“I love you too, baby,” Namjoon coos, cupping Jimin’s soft face in his hands
and staring at the pure beauty that is before his eyes.
Later that night Namjoon has Jimin bent over his worktable with his skirt
raised over his exposed ass. Namjoon decides that Jimin is beautiful in both
dresses and suits, but none of the defining articles of clothing can quite
compare to the utter exquisiteness that is Jimin’s naked body.
Because when Jimin’s naked, he need not worry about the unfair expectations of
society being forced upon his exhausted heart. Instead, the only thing he can
even concentrate on is the overwhelming love and passion that is poured from
the older man to the delicate little seraph who’s endured far too much pain.
 
 
End Notes
     i love long authors notes so:
     I don't even know what to feel rn, bc i'm happy that this is over
     (i've been writing since jan 20th), but i love this au so much that i
     want to keep writing. i have smut drabbles planned out and stuff but
     i suck at writing smut literally?? this is so hard......i think what
     i'll do is just post the drabbles in little collections as parts of
     this series. the harness and the last scene were supposed to be
     drabbles but i thought HEY why not just add them in the story.
     also: this is un-beta'd. apparently no one wants to beta my shit :) :
     ) :)!! i am actually like suffering from anxiety right now bc i am
     SUPER self-conscious of my writing and posting a long fic based on
     such a dodgy topic is just....my heart's going crazy nbd....
     but thank you for reading!! hopefully i conveyed their relationship
     well and didnt scandalize too many people
     NAMMIN THOUGH
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