Discipline

[be_ddelusionall]

Title: Discipline
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong (minor Junsu/Jaejoong, implied Yoochun/Jaejoong)
Rating: NC-17 (incest, underage, father/son)
Disclaimer: Why do I write such things? The only answer I have is that I cannot actually possess them.

Summary: Jaejoong finds out that Yunho-shi is not who he says he is.

Warning: incest, father/son, underage, master/sub themes, super!bastard Yunho


Warning: incest, father/son, underage, master/sub themes, super!bastard Yunho

Livid.

Absolutely livid.

A growl escapes his mouth with every heavy breath and echoes through the opulent hallways. Ingrained discipline keeps him from breaking delicate vases and shoving statues off their marble stands. The same discipline keeps his head up, shoulders square, and steps even. He does not stomp. He does not run.

Fake. It’s all fake. His entire existence. Destroyed with one simple medical test.

Servants scurry out of his way, a few saying his name in concern. Jaejoong ignores them, focused on a single space, a single man in this giant labyrinth of lies.

He is forbidden from this section of the estate during working hours. Today, he does not care.

Blowing by the uptight middle-aged secretary (a new one, they do not last long working for Jung Yunho-shi), Jaejoong opens the office door and lets it bang against the wall in his anger.

There are three men in the room.

Jaejoong glares at the one behind the desk and says, “You fucking bastard.”

A single eyebrow raises, then his brown eyes narrow, his mouth settles in its normal position of indifference.

God, he’s beautiful. Tall, with dark eyes, brown hair, and an imposing figure and an even more imposing presence built around a solid and firm career as a prosecutor.

And Jaejoong hates him.

“Watch your language and your tone, young man. I am in a meeting. Get out.”

“Fuck you. I do not care if--”

“Kim Jaejoong,” Yunho-shi says, in a voice that usually has Jaejoong sucking his lips in his mouth and holding his breath to keep from making a noise.

Today, he does not care. His hands tighten in fists at his side. “This is important.” He is angry, but at least has enough sense not to blurt out his new knowledge in front of Yunho-shi’s business associates.

“You are only seventeen. Important matters at that age are--”

“What about family matters?” Jaejoong almost shouts, actually interrupting him. His anger is still simmering, but he also realizes that he is in a shit-ton of trouble.

Disrupting a viper in its lair.

Yunho-shi’s eyes widen an almost imperceptible amount. And then the indifference, the business face is back. “Those are of even less importance. Remove yourself at once.”

Jaejoong takes a very deep breath. He is not surprised by Yunho-shi’s reaction. The man will do just about anything to save face.

Including lie to his own son. His own illegitimate son.

Jaejoong’s throat tightens, his eyes sting. He’s spent his entire life being dismissed by Yunho-shi. But this one hurts the most.

“Good fucking riddance,” he mutters, turns on his heel, and heads back the way he came.

The anger moves over for hurt. Painful and sharp in his chest. His heart is thundering. Eyes burning. Everything blurs.

He does not make it back to his rooms, but bursts into a guest room and takes out his frustration on the furniture, the paintings, the walls. The destruction does not matter. Because it’s all a lie. Everything Yunho-shi has ever told him.

He smashes the mirror of an antique armoire with a marble, postmodern piece of junk. A shard of glass slices through his shirt, pierces his arm, and he finally stops, falling to the floor with a cry. He curls the arm against his chest, watching blood spread over his white school shirt.

Yunho-shi will be angry.

He is already angry. But what will he do? What will he do now that Jaejoong knows the truth?

Yunho-shi is not his benefactor. Yunho-shi is not a legal guardian designated by the government.

Yunho-shi is his father.

Jaejoong half crawls and half staggers to the en suite and throws up until he can’t do anything but shake. Shake and wish that piece of glass cut a bit farther down his arm. A bit deeper.

He is still there when Sooyeon finds him. She is one of Yunho-shi’s longest lasting housekeepers. One of Jaejoong’s favorites. She tsks at him for the mess, but helps him to his feet and down the halls to his room. She has already called for their onsite doctor, and he cleans Jaejoong’s arm, stitches up the deep cut and bandages it. He leaves with instructions on how to change the bandage in a few days.

Jaejoong barely hears him or Sooyeon’s words.

He isn’t even facing the door when it opens, and by instinct or rote muscle memory, his back straightens, and he stiffens. He sucks in a quick breath that is half a sob, and then stays as still as possible.

“Leave us. Now.”

Yunho-shi’s voice is cold.

Jaejoong fights the urge to curl away from it. It is a moment before the door shuts again. Silence settles, and Jaejoong fidgets in the chair.

“Stand and greet me properly.”

Jaejoong swallows roughly, mentally and forcefully disobeying. It takes all the strength he has left to stay in his seat, looking away from Yunho-shi’s solid and intimidating form near the door. “I will not,” Jaejoong says. Whispers.

“I refuse to have this conversation with you acting like a rebellious teenager.”

Jaejoong ponders his choices. He knows Yunho-shi well, and the man will leave if he does not obey. Using his good arm, he pushes up from the chair and turns just enough to face him. He says nothing, does not greet him. He crosses his arm, the injured arm above the other, the white bandage gleaming against his darker skin. The shirt is still hanging on him, but open. There is blood on his chest. He wants a shower, but the doctor said not to get the bandage wet.

And when he is sure he can do it without looking away, he meets Yunho-shi’s eyes.

Cold indifference.

He’s wearing a black suit, a grey shirt underneath, a patterned tie of dark reds and greys. A matching pocket square. Jaejoong has never seen Yunho-shi in anything but a suit.

Every day, at breakfast, Yunho-shi has a cup of coffee and fruit, granola, rice. Every day, at breakfast, Yunho-shi tells Jaejoong of his schedule, allows or forbids him to hang out with his friends after school, reminds him of meetings he may have with tutors or doctors, and then dismisses him. Jaejoong eats his breakfast in the kitchen with the staff. Yunho-shi gives the staff orders on what he is and is not allowed to eat, what he is and is not allowed to wear, and what exercises and workouts he is to do every day.

The rules are strict. But he has everything a teenage boy can want. Video game consoles, pretty cars to drive, an elaborate wardrobe, all the latest technology gadgets. He never has to ask for them. They are placed on his desk almost before they are released to the public.

Jaejoong has never cared about the rules or the strict way his life is governed. The other option is nothing. Homeless. Another youth in the government system of nobodies. Yunho-shi has always been ruler, for as long as Jaejoong can remember. And Jaejoong has always been his responsibility.

Yunho-shi takes his responsibilities seriously.

Or so Jaejoong thought. Apparently he also shies away from them when they do not fit into his well-planned life.

“How did you find out?” Yunho-shi asks.

Jaejoong keeps his gaze, does not look away. “We are studying DNA in anatomy class. Seonsaengnim Cho is allowing us to do our own tests. I took a sample of yours from a coffee cup last week.”

Impassive. Indifferent.

Jaejoong expects another question, but there is not one. Yunho-shi does not think anything else matters. Jaejoong has his own questions. But only one seems important.

“How did you find out?” Jaejoong asks.

Yunho-shi’s shoulders shift. He does not reply.

Which makes Jaejoong very angry. He deserves answers.

“So my mother? A whore? A college girl? Younger than that? Did you rape her?”

“Watch your mouth.”

Jaejoong shakes his head. Emboldened. A little crazy. Mostly crazy. “Twenty-six. You were twenty-six. Already a lawyer in a respected firm, working your way up the ladder. Something like this would have destroyed your reputation. Was I left on your doorstep with a DNA test? Did you pay my mother to keep her mouth shut? Hush money. This.” Jaejoong waved his uninjured arm around his room. “Is this the agreement for the silence? That I’m to be well-kept, well-bred, well-educated?”

“Yes.”

The direct answer is shocking enough that Jaejoong bites his lips to stop his tirade of accusations.

“Yes,” Yunho-shi says again. “I wanted nothing to do with you or the woman who spent a single evening in my bed. So yes, I paid her off, I took you in and we signed a contract. She receives a month stipend for her silence, and you--”

“I’m well-kept, well-bred, and well-educated,” Jaejoong whispers and finally looks away.

Yunho-shi does not care.

Growling, the anger returns. Jaejoong spins away from him, toward his closet. He feels more than hears Yunho-shi follow him. In the middle of the space, he empties out his backpack, school books and papers spreading across the hardwood floors. He packs clothes, jeans, T-shirts, boxers. Remembering his bloody shirt has him pulling it off for a T-shirt. He goes into the bathroom next, using the smaller compartment for his toiletries.

“Where are you going?”

“Yoochun’s probably.” Jaejoong mentally curses. Obedience is programmed in his head.

To his surprise, Yunho-shi lets him storm back into the room, follows him silently as he tosses in his laptop and his chargers. That is all he really needs.

“And if I tell you that you do not have permission to go?”

“Just another lie,” Jaejoong says. “If I was not allowed to go, you would have locked me in my rooms.”

“If you walk out that door, I will cut you off.”

Jaejoong pauses at his bedroom door. He glances behind him, meets Yunho-shi’s eyes, and says, “Fine.”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“You mean, did I blabber and tell everyone in the world? No. Don’t worry. I purposely spilled Yoochun’s coffee all over our table and threw away the report. I have to redo it, but I’ll pick someone else. One of the staff.”

“What do you want for your silence?”

Jaejoong laughs, the sound bitter to his own ears. “You do not have anything to worry about. You have not exactly been a father worth bragging about. I have no desire at all to admit it to anyone. I’ll be back.”

Jaejoong leaves his bedroom.

Yunho-shi does not follow him.

---

It’s Junsu he runs to instead, because Yoochun will make him talk, and Yoochun will worry, and Yoochun will hover. Junsu won’t. Junsu will fuck him hard and fast. He won’t let him most of the time, his moans muffled by a pillow or a gag or something. His house isn’t as big as Yunho-shi’s. There are not a lot of places to fuck without being heard or caught.

It’s just the amount of thrill and lack of control he needs.

And after, when he leans against the railing of Junsu’s personal balcony and smokes, blowing his resignation to the night sky, he almost feels better. Almost. But it allows him to think. He’s wearing Junsu’s boxers. There’s come on his skin.

“Your arm okay?” Junsu asks, lighting his own cigarette. The flare of the lighter sparkles in the diamond studs in his ears.

“Yeah.”

Junsu does not say anything else for a long time. “You staying the night?”

Jaejoong thinks about it for a moment. He should go back. His anger is fading. Somewhat. But there are still a lot of things he has to think through.

Like how he’s had his hand on his cock more than once stroking off to thoughts of removing Yunho-shi’s suits to discover the body underneath. He is just as strict with his own schedule. Just as strict with his own diet and exercise. Yunho-shi expects nothing but perfection and he holds himself to the same standard. Jaejoong has a feeling that Yunho is cut under those suits, but he’s never had the privilege of seeing it outside of his own imagination.

“Yeah,” Jaejoong says. “Thanks.”

“I may fuck you in the morning.”

Jaejoong laughs and leans his head on Junsu’s shoulder. “I may not stop you.”

He likes Junsu a lot. Junsu has a lot of similar issues of never feeling quite good enough. His mother was a professional singer, popular in her day, and his brother is part of a very successful boyband. He’s in Japan on tour right now. And Junsu can’t sing.

Jaejoong sleeps in a guest room. Or attempts to sleep. He cannot.

It’s three in the morning when his phone blares bright in the darkness. He frequently receives texts at night, which is why his notification tone is off. He usually flips his phone around too to keep from being disturbed by the light. He reaches for his phone with a sigh, and then almost drops it on his face.

Yunho-shi. A text from Yunho-shi.

Yunho-shi: You did not go to Yoochun’s.

Jaejoong tries to understand why that matters. He tries to keep a flare of ... hope ... from filling his chest. Does he actually care? It is doubtful. Yunho-shi likes to know where he is. In control of where he is. Knowing him, there is probably a tracker on his Porsche or one in his phone.

JaeJae: Calm down. I’m at Junsu’s. He fucks better than Yoochun.

It’s after he’s hit the send button that he realizes that he just outed himself to his guardian. Well, fuck.

His phone rings. Jaejoong lets it and tries to decide if he’s awake enough for this conversation with Yunho-shi over the phone. Usually their discussions are short. And mostly they are only to explain a change in the plans they made while at breakfast.

Yunho-shi: Answer your phone now.

Ingrained obedience.

Jaejoong sighs, and when his phone flares again with light, he answers Yunho-shi’s phone call. “What?” Jaejoong demands.

There is a huff of irritation on the other line, and then Yunho-shi demands, “Are you gay?”

Jaejoong echoes that huff of irritation. “Bisexual, actually.”

“Do people know?”

“Well, considering that his dick was in my ass a few hours ago, Junsu knows.”

“Do not be crude.”

Jaejoong rolls his eyes. “Do not be an idiot. Yes, people know. I don’t hide it.”

“Such a thing can ruin your reputation.”

“Sort of like having an illegitimate son with a high school girl.”

“She was not in high school, and you should be more discreet--”

A sudden thought tumbles through Jaejoong’s mind and he sits up with a shout. It’s so fucking obvious now that he’s thinking about it, seriously thinking about it, and not just in his room alone, with his hand on his dick.

“What?” Yunho-shi demands, irritation evident in his voice.

“You are ... fuck, you are. You are gay, aren’t you?”

There is silence on the other end. Long enough that Jaejoong checks his phone to see if Yunho-shi had ended the call.

“Well, fuck, that makes so much sense now.”

“Whatever does that mean?”

Jaejoong laughs. “Nothing. Just ...”

“Come home,” Yunho-shi says suddenly.

“I don’t particularly want to,” Jaejoong says. “Junsu promised me another round in the morning.”

There is another deep breath. Another irritated noise. “Come home,” Yunho-shi repeats, and this time his voice is more demanding. It’s a direct order. And then he ends the call. It’s with his own resigned sigh that Jaejoong sits up and turns on the table light.

Yunho-shi is gay. It makes so much sense now. His particularities. His traits.

Jaejoong thinks back to most of his fantasies. They usually start with Jaejoong attempting to convince him. Being coy and sexy, stripping down for him, using his mouth and skin to tempt Yunho-shi to touch him. God, if he’d thought for even a moment that Yunho-shi was gay, his fantasies would have been much different. More domination and less exploration.

He is pretty sure that Yunho-shi is a dominating beast in bed.

But who does he welcome into his bed? Servants maybe? Other business men. Or maybe he calls a service. Jaejoong does not know. Yunho-shi’s offices are far enough away from Jaejoong’s rooms that Yunho-shi could have a massive, toy-filled orgy and Jaejoong would never know.

He dresses in the jeans he had packed, white T-shirt, jacket. He leaves Junsu a note and then goes out the front door, alerting the security guards. They are used to him coming and going at strange times. Jaejoong drives back on automatic, walks through the halls almost in complete darkness. It hurts how much this is his home.

Jaejoong steps into his room and stops in utter surprise

Yunho-shi is in his bedroom.

Not wholly unusual. But he is in pajamas. The full set kind. Wide pants. Buttoned top. It is blue. The short sleeves show off his arms. Strong. Built. Muscles.

Pajamas. Not a suit. And his body is cut. Well-built. Thighs and arms and shoulders.

Jaejoong has too look away. He sets his bag on his desk chair. A few deep breaths have him settling back into himself and he can look at Yunho-shi again. At his face. Not at how the pajama top drapes over his shoulders, down his sculpted chest.

It is a second too late when Jaejoong notices that Yunho-shi has a bottle of something in his hands and is holding out a shot for Jaejoong.

He takes it, hand shaking, and stares suspiciously into the amber liquid.

"It is not poison," Yunho-shi snaps and knocks back his own shot.

“Can't blame me for being cautious,"Jaejoong mutters. “It’s the fastest way to get rid of a problem.”

“I am above that. Drink.”

He takes the shot. Not poison. Whiskey. Really really good whiskey. Good enough for a moan as it warms his stomach.

Yunho-shi holds out the bottle, and Jaejoong accepts the refill. He sips on it.

"God, that's good."

"I am holding you to your promise of silence, but I can--"

Jaejoong snorts. "Please be quiet. I am mostly not angry anymore and you talking about it won't help.”

“Mostly not angry?”

“Yeah. Mostly. You’re a fucking bastard, and don’t reprimand me for my language. Look at your actions and tell me you aren’t.”

“I did what I--”

“Okay, so you’re selfish too.”

Yunho-shi does not reply.

It is silent for a while before Yunho-shi asks, “You said that you do not hide your sexuality, but I did not know.”

“That’s because it does not fit within the life you’ve built for me. It isn’t part of my schedule.” Jaejoong tilts his head to the side. “Or is it? Do you have a date marked in your computer somewhere that starts the proper marriage qualifications talk? Are you planning on scheduling a meeting with me with a list of girls who would be appropriate to marry?”

Yunho-shi breathes deep and Jaejoong knows he’s right.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Jaejoong shakes his head and knocks back the rest of the whiskey. “I’ve heard people ask in quiet whispers why you never married. I guess one mistake in your life is enough.”

Yunho-shi does not dispute that.

“I guess being labeled a mistake instead of your son makes all of this easier to deal with.” Jaejoong turns a little too quickly, feels the room spin a bit. He almost stumbles into one of the armchairs in his room. “I can’t fucking believe that I’m your son. This is so fucking awkward.”

“Please attempt to watch your language.”

“Please attempt to not be such a bastard.” Jaejoong leans his head on the back of the chair, eyes closed.

“I need to explain,” Yunho-shi starts.

Jaejoong snorts. “No fucking kidding.”

“Be silent and listen.”

Jaejoong waves a hand at him.

“Your disrespect at this moment will not be forgotten.”

Jaejoong fights the urge to mock him like a child.

“Your mother is not faultless in this. Her parents refused to allow her an abortion, especially after they found out that I was the father.”

Was. Past tense. He’d washed his hands of Jaejoong even though they lived in the same home.

“She was not a teenager, she was not drunk, I did not rape her. Our parents were attempting to marry us. I knew it was inevitable despite my physical attractions. I did not protest our night together, and neither did she. But then we found out the very next week that her parents were almost destitute from too many poor business deals. We withdrew from them, and I withdrew my offer of marriage. Less than a year later, she came here with you. Her deal was simple. Provide enough for herself and family to live comfortably and she would keep her mouth shut. I agreed.”

Jaejoong waits for more, and when there is nothing more, he says, “That does not make any of this better. But I am not sure you even care?”

“Care? About what?”

“Me. My life. My thoughts. What I think about this. Anything but money or your reputation?”

Yunho-shi does not answer.

Jaejoong sighs. “Whatever. Am I allowed to move out?”

“Don’t be absurd. What will you do?”

“Apparently all I have to do is ask you for money in exchange for my silence.”

“I will pay it.”

“I know.”

Jaejoong sits up, makes the mistake of looking at Yunho-shi again, dressed in pajamas, the top thin enough to see the bud of his nipples. He moans and buries his face in his hands. “God, this is so fucking awkward.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve had more than one fantasy of stripping you out of your suits and sucking on your dick. Fuck!” Jaejoong pulls his hair, because he so did not need to tell Yunho-shi that. “And it’s all your fucking fault. For not telling me, for being so uptight that the challenge of seducing you is tempting enough to masturbate over it, for just ...” Jaejoong trails off.

There is more silence.

“Excuse me from school tomorrow.”

“That is unacceptable.”

Jaejoong lifts his head enough to look at him. “It’s almost five a.m. I haven’t slept all day or night, and it’s all your fault. You want to make it up to me, then excuse me from school tomorrow.”

“Why would I want to make it up to you? You understand the situation.”

Jaejoong stares at him. “I understand that even with biological evidence and verbal proof that nothing in this world will actually make you my father. Fantastic. I hope you’re relieved. As my legal guardian, I hope you call the school to excuse me, because if you want me to go to school, you’re going to have to drag me, and I will kick and scream and cause a scene if you try.”

Jaejoong stands up from the chair and shucks off his jeans, pulls the T-shirt over his head, and then crawls into his bed, hoping the flush on his skin is seen as being from his anger instead of his embarrassment.

To his surprise, Yunho-shi sits on the edge of the bed.

“I will call and excuse you.”

Jaejoong curls into a tighter ball and does not say thank you. Yunho-shi does not deserve his gratitude.

“What is an appropriate punishment for barging into my office yesterday without permission and interrupting a very important meeting? You almost cost me a very important witness testimony.”

Jaejoong bit his lip and fought the urge to kick Yunho-shi away from him. “I don’t care. What is your punishment for lying to me my entire life? What is your punishment for not understanding why that is wrong? What is your punishment--”

“Enough,” Yunho-shi says and actually hits him. A firm slap against his hip.

Jaejoong inhales sharply, body tense, waiting for another blow. It does not come. But nothing is changing. Nothing from Yunho-shi’s point of view. Everything is different for Jaejoong now.

Chest tight, Jaejoong bites his lip against a more pain-filled sigh. He throws the covers off himself, goes right to his knees in front of Yunho-shi and bows his head to the floor. The perfect pious, penitent child who has done something wrong. In a voice that sounds heavy against the rug, Jaejoong says, “I apologize for my behavior and will accept any punishment you deem appropriate for my actions.”

“And the half a million dollars in damage you did in that guest room in the North wing?”

Jaejoong winces. Ah, right.

“You’re grounded. For as long as I feel you need to be. Hyungjoon will drive you to school and back. You are not to be with any of your friends before or after school. Texting and phone calls will be limited to me only and all of your internet privileges will be limited to school. No video games. No movies. You may spend your free time, that you will have a lot of, in the library studying subjects that I will present to you.”

“Am I allowed to jerk off?” Jaejoong mumbles.

“No.”

Jaejoong pushes up to his knees, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“You’re being punished. You are not allowed to do anything that you enjoy doing.”

“I enjoy going to school.”

“Nice try.”

“Well, I do!”

“I know you do. You are a very good student.”

Jaejoong crosses his arms, and remembers that he’s only wearing boxers. His skin is still flushed. He huffs.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just ... how are you going to enforce that?”

“No pleasuring yourself?” Yunho-shi shrugs. “I cannot. But you are an honest person and know when you deserve a punishment.”

“And what about you? What is your punishment for lying to me?”

Yunho-shi’s face falls into indifference, a long glare. “You know the truth. That is my punishment.”

“How ... how is that ... how does that even work?”

“I will spend the rest of my life worrying about your betrayal.”

“My betrayal? My ... are you ... are you fucking serious?”

“Quite serious. I expect everything to return to normal tomorrow. And you will not act any differently toward me and I will not act any differently toward you. And you will go back to watching your language. This changes nothing. Do I make myself clear?”

Jaejoong takes a heavy breath against another retort. This is not completely unexpected. But it still hurts. His chest still acts. His eyes still sting. Lack of sleep. The alcohol. He can blame it on anything but what it really is. Hurt. Rejection. A tiny bit of him hoped that Yunho-shi ... well, he spent all of his life wondering who his parents were, he spent a lot of his earlier childhood knowing that if they were still around, they would love him and pay more attention to him than Yunho-shi did.

“You’re a shit father,” Jaejoong mutters.

“That is because I am not a father. Do I make myself clear?” Yunho-shi repeats, voice low and rumbling.

“Yes,” Jaejoong whispers. “Perfectly ... perfectly clear.”

“Good. I will take your things and have the restrictions set. The staff will know about your punishment first thing in the morning, so do not try to weasel a set of keys out of Taehyun.”

Yunho-shi rises and Jaejoong glances down, eyes almost level with his crotch, and then he glances away. The pajama bottoms are loose, but ... Jaejoong swallows roughly.

For the briefest moment, fingers trail through his hair, and then Yunho-shi moves away. The door shuts.

Jaejoong stays on his knees. A combination of shock and pure lust keeps him frozen. Lust. From the barely there image of Yunho-shi’s dick in his face and an imagined whisper of Yunho-shi’s voice telling him how good he is.

Jaejoong’s cock is hard and throbbing. He rationalizes that his punishment does not begin until tomorrow and shucks off Junsu’s boxers, wraps a hand around himself, and bites his pillow to muffle the almost painful gasps of a quick, powerful orgasm.

It isn’t until his breath is echoing around the room, come cooling on his stomach, that he realizes that he just jerked off thinking about his own father. With full knowledge this time. He curses long and loud.

But well, like Yunho-shi said, this changes nothing. And if it changes nothing, then he supposes he can still jerk off to thoughts of him. It’s sort of disgusting. But Jaejoong isn’t wanted anyway. This will not change that.

Well, he can masturbate to Yunho-shi after his punishment anyway. It is a stupid punishment, and unfair, considering the circumstances.

Ingrained obedience.

Jaejoong shivers. He stretches his arms out, fingers tight in the blankets, and starts focusing on not touching himself.

---

Jaejoong wakes up early in the afternoon. His heavy curtains are still closed. Dark. Undisturbed. There’s a warm feeling in his chest that Yunho-shi allowed him to sleep and did not insist on following his schedule.

Though it is probably mostly selfish. He is still sure that Yunho-shi has no idea how to treat him anymore, even after saying nothing will change, and this moment of breaking the routine is a direct result of that.

Well-rested and definitely less angry than yesterday, Jaejoong rises from bed and heads to his bathroom.

There is a note from Yunho-shi on the counter. As always, it is typed in a professional format, on his business letterhead. The contents are anything but professional.

To Jaejoong,

This letter is to inform you of a change in your schedule. This change is for the duration of your punishment and can be debated and refined afterwards.

As I have figured, you have very little self control when it comes to pleasuring yourself. I found you dead to the world with come all over you skin. I will allow this one mishap. With this letter, you will find something that will help you control yourself through the day. You must wear it at all times when you are home, and I will allow you to remove it after dinner.

Your tutoring sessions have all been cancelled for the day.

Please send a text confirmation to my phone that says you understand this change in your schedule. I will be busy today and am unable to schedule you in for a face-to-face appointment. Any complaints can be discussed this evening at dinner. Do not be late.

Sincerely,

Jung Yunho-shi

Jaejoong flips the letter over, searching for whatever Yunho-shi is talking about. He freezes. On the counter is a red ring of silicon. A cockring.

Fuck.

Jaejoong grips the counter with a whimper. His once-sated cock is throbbing in moments.

How ... what ...

For once, Jaejoong has no idea what Yunho-shi is thinking. He cannot guess at his future behavior, how he came to this conclusion.

Again, if Jaejoong had known Yunho-shi was gay, his fantasies would have been way more domineering.

Shit.

Well, he knows himself, and he slides the cockring over his dick before getting the tub. He’s allowed to remove it at dinner. Does that mean he is going to get to come at dinner? During dinner?

Oh fuck.

He washes himself quickly, careful of the bandage on his arm. Shaking, he moves to his closet to dress after his bath. He stands in the middle of the room for a moment. He notes that the books and papers that he scattered around the day before have been picked up.

This changes nothing.

Jaejoong ponders his options. It does not change anything? If that is the case, then he will treat this punishment like all of his others. Yunho-shi expects him to be well-dressed while at the house. Outside of his rooms, he is not allowed to be sloppy and disheveled. What if there is a business associate or a client within the house to see him dressed in sweats and a T-shirt?

According to the punishment, he is only allowed in the library to study. With that in mind, he dresses much like he does on the weekends: a pair of nice slacks, a tighter long-sleeved sweater (it is usually cold in the library). His hard cock is an obvious bulge and his nipples are firm, pushing against the soft material of the sweater. He adds black socks and jewelry before going back to the bathroom for makeup and hair.

Presentable, he returns to his bedroom, stands in front of his full length mirror and snaps a picture of himself. The obvious bulge in his pants isn’t so obvious, so he angles his hips a different way and takes it again. This one clearly shows his erection. With a smirk, he sends the picture to Yunho-shi’s phone with the text, I understand this change to my schedule.

It only takes moments for his phone to vibrate in response.

Yunho-shi: Good boy.

Jaejoong whines, wrapping his arms around himself for a moment. His cock throbs. Just from that.

His phone vibrates again.

Yunho-shi: If my three o'clock meeting ends sooner than I expect, I will come and find you.

Anticipation. Lust. Eagerness. It’s ... strange.

This is not supposed to change anything, but it already has. Confused, aroused, and almost happy, Jaejoong leaves his room and heads to the library.

---

By four, his head is on the table, the book on the history of ancient Korean law, pushed aside. He cannot stop shaking. He is gripping his knees hard. Biting his lip. To keep from touching himself. It has only been a few hours. A few lifetimes.

There is a derisive noise from somewhere to his right, and he turns his head, opens his eyes, and stares at Yunho-shi.

“Is this anyway to behave?” he asks voice low.

All Jaejoong can do is whimper.

Yunho-shi titters in frustration. “Sit up, hands on the top of your head.”

Shaking, Jaejoong obeys. The room sways. Firm hands grip first his elbows, and then down his arms, to his shoulders. Fingers curl in the back of the chair and pull him away from the table.

Yunho-shi hums, the noise a soft purr near his ear. “Good boy.”

Jaejoong whimpers.

“But you’ve made a bit of a mess of your slacks.”

They’re soaked through with precome and sweat. The sweater is plastered to his body.

Jaejoong whimpers again when Yunho-shi sits next to him. He pulls the heavy book toward him, flipping idly through the pages. He ignores Jaejoong, even when he whines.

“Discipline,” Yunho-shi suddenly says. “Barging into my office as you did yesterday for something so trivial means that you need more lessons in discipline.”

Jaejoong’s dick throbs. God, what the fuck is this? From Yunho-shi?

“I doubt you will be able to effectively read this chapter on governing courts within provinces and properly summarize it for me during dinner.”

Jaejoong clears his throat when he realizes that Yunho-shi is waiting for a response. “N-no, sir.”

He almost smiles, and Jaejoong shuts his eyes with a whine. He has never, ever seen Yunho-shi smile.

“Perhaps over the weekend. The first eight chapters.”

Jaejoong understands that that is an order. He swallows and nods, pulling on a few strands of his own hair where they are caught in the rings on his fingers. “Y-yes, s-sir.”

“Your behavior now is unacceptable for public eyes. Get back to your rooms until dinner.”

Jaejoong nods slowly. Yunho-shi’s disappointment is tangible and his chest aches a bit. It’s not really fair to judge him on such a thing.

“You will do better tomorrow.”

It is not a question.

“Yes, yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” Yunho-shi stands, one of his hands landing on Jaejoong’s thigh to push him up to his feet. The touch has Jaejoong shaking, whimpering, in anticipation. Fingers walking down his arm, to his hands still clasped on top of his head.

Yunho-shi walks away, the door to the library shuts softly.

Jaejoong groans, head thunking right back to the table. A hand goes to his crotch, rubbing his erection, and then he’s shuddering through too much pleasure, not enough. Without release. His cries echo through the room. With a strong force of will, he pulls his hands to the tabletop, fingers spread.

“Fuck.” The long, low moan echoes through the library.

It’s with a strength of will and a need to prove Yunho-shi that he can do this, that Jaejoong finally stands. His legs shake, his body is quivering, but he stands. And he moves. Staggers. Through the halls, back to his rooms.

He collapses face first on his bed, screams into his blanket, and rocks his hips almost unconsciously. The blinding pleasure returns. It’s too much. So much. Not the cockring. But Yunho-shi. Yunho-shi’s unpredictability. It’s the biggest, most orgasm-inducing confusion Jaejoong has ever experienced.

But he is determined.

He rolls over, arms spread, legs spread, and tries his best to breathe.

Almost two hours later, and Jaejoong is desperate. His face is flushed, streaked with tears, body almost unable to obey his commands.

But, goddamnit, he is not late for dinner. He staggers into the dining room, using the back of chairs to keep himself upright. Yunho-shi already sits at the head of the table. Jaejoong’s usual place is set next to his. He falls gratefully into his chair.

“It appears that you are incapable of following simple commands.”

Jaejoong tilts his head back, breathing harshly and deeply through his mouth. “Too much. It’s ... too much.”

“Nonsense. It is only beginning.”

Jaejoong shudders with a moan.

Servants bring out their dinner. Jaejoong can barely see his silverware or the plate, or the food upon it. He lowers his head, hands gripping his knees. He’s swaying.

“Are you praying?”

Jaejoong snorts. “Maybe to the Egyptian god Min and the phallus-likes stalks of lettuce.”

“While you earn some points for vague religious references, it is dinner time. Eat.”

Jaejoong takes a steadying breath and sits up straight in the hard chair. His dick is trapped in gray slacks (he had to change out of the others) and his ass rubs against the chair. His channel is clenching with every breath. His picks up his fork and drops it. And then again. It’s useless. Really.

He whines a bit, hands shuddering too much.

Yunho-shi huffs in annoyance. His harsh voice orders the servants away. At the sound of the last door closing, he grabs Jaejoong’s wrist and pulls him hard. Hard enough that the table digs into his ribs. He cries out, falling to his knees, and his hands catch himself on Yunho-shi’s thighs.

A palm touches his forehead and presses back.

Jaejoong whines again, but follows the physical command. He ends up sitting back on his knees with his hands on his own thighs. His vision is blurry, trying to focus on Yunho-shi above him.

“Open your mouth,” he says.

Jaejoong does. A piece of broccoli is placed in his mouth, and he chews it with a whimper. It is followed by a piece of meat, and then more vegetables. He calms with each bite. Obeying Yunho-shi’s commands to chew, swallow, open, drink. It is easy when he does not have to do it himself.

Time fades, and Jaejoong eats. The pleasure does not go away, but with something else to do, something else to concentrate on, it is easier to clear his blurry vision, focus on obeying Yunho-shi’s little cues and orders.

After a sip of wine, a dark red that coats Jaejoong’s throat with its sweet touch of fruit, Yunho-shi shifts his chair a little. He crosses his arms, and Jaejoong moans, remembering the muscles that are now hidden behind a tan suit and a cream shirt, red tie. It’s a strange thought, but most of Yunho-shi’s ties are red. Like the cockring.

Jaejoong fights the urge to fidget. His knees ache from kneeling, but not as much as his cock suddenly reminds him of its plight. There’s a noise in the room, that Jaejoong realizes too late is him whining and he attempts to shut it off, biting his lip. His eyes shut, his head tilts back. His cock is throbbing.

“Take it off,” Yunho-shi says, voice low. A firm command.

Jaejoong shudders. His hands are shaking as he unclasps his pants and lowers the zipper. His boxers are soaked through. He pushes them down enough to free his erection, the band pushing at his balls. He has his fingers on the cockring and then he stops and looks back up at Yunho-shi.

“What?” he demands.

Jaejoong shivers again under the firm tone, but he has to make sure. “I ... I ... Do I have permission to come, sir?”

Yunho-shi stares at him. It feels like an entire hour, but it’s only a moment, and then he smirks and says, “Yes.”

Whimpering in relief, Jaejoong pulls the cockring off, gasping at the sudden release of the pressure. His hand is on his cock, stroking just a few times before his entire body shatters, and his cry echoes around them. He’s coming hard, spraying his release in front of him. He has to grip the closest chair to keep from falling over. Everything fades at the edges, and he’s well on his way to falling to the floor, when something cool touches his chin, lifts up his head.

Jaejoong follows the command to look up, his dick throbbing when he realizes it is Yunho-shi’s foot. His leather shoe on his chin. He focuses on the man, on his scowl, and he shudders.

“You made a mess,” he whispers. “Clean it up.”

Sure enough, there is come on the shoe, and on his pants. Jaejoong shakes even harder. It’s almost unbelievable, but he understands, and with a whimper, he leans forward, bending over to lick up the come off Yunho-shi’s shoe. He uses trembling hands to pull the pant legs straight enough to lick up the heavy splatters of come.

Fingers touch his head. “Good boy. Sit back in your chair before I call for dessert.”

Without his cock yelling at him, Jaejoong is able to move a little better, but he’s still shaking. It’s so hard to tuck himself back into his pants, cock still throbbing a bit. He doesn’t bother to fasten his slacks though, just pulls the shirt over his lap. The chair is so hard. His ass is still clenching. Fuck. He needs to be fucked.

His head is on its way to the table, when something firm smacks his arm. “Sit up straight, young man.”

Jaejoong takes a deep heavy breath. He receives another sharp slap with Yunho-shi’s knife, and then he’s doing as he was told. Sitting up straight.

His dinner plate is empty.

Yunho-shi rings a small bell and tells the first servant through the door that they would like their dessert now.

Jaejoong’s thoughts are spinning. This is insane. Yunho-shi is insane.

Dessert is a small cup of chocolate mousse, cream, and raspberries. It’s still hard to lift his spoon.

“This is different,” Jaejoong whispers. Careful with his words. Unsure.

A fork enters his vision, tilts his chin up to make him meet Yunho-shi’s eyes. “What is different?”

Jaejoong swallows. It’s hard to meet his glare, it’s hard to talk when Yunho-shi is so controlling.

“You said ... you said this changes nothing. But this ... this is different.”

“It’s not,” Yunho-shi says in the voice that reminds Jaejoong that he not allowed to argue with him. The fork leaves his chin, taps his cheek, and then Yunho-shi goes back to his dessert.

Jaejoong wants to call him a liar again. Or at least delusional. Demand to know who this is not different. He huffs and goes back to the creamy dessert.

“Right now, you’re being punished because you did something inconsiderate and so blatantly rude that you’re lucky I don’t throw you over my lap and paddle your ass like you are still eight years old. And you obey my rules and my commands. And mostly you respect your punishment because you know what you did was wrong. How is that different than it has always been?”

Yunho-shi expects a response, but all Jaejoong can focus on is paddle your ass. His cock throbs, and he moans.

“After this afternoon, you still seem incapable of controlling yourself.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and tosses another cockring on the table. This one is different. Still red, but it has a lock on it and a contraption.

Jaejoong moans and bites his lips against a curse. “That things vibrates, doesn’t it?”

The corner of Yunho-shi’s mouth jerks in another almost smile. “Perhaps.”

With shaking hands, Jaejoong picks it up. He lifts his shirt up. His dick is still hard, leaking all over his stomach. The cockring is almost too tight, and Jaejoong whimpers, head going back at the pinch on his pleasure. He digs his thumb in the slit and then brings it to his mouth to lick clean, the sharp taste a harsh counter to the sweetness from the dessert.

“Go to your rooms. You are not allowed to touch yourself, even to tease.”

Jaejoong moans and this times does not stop his head from thunking against the table. He receives a sharp slap with the knife for his efforts and with difficulty, he sits back up. “Do I have to sleep with this on?”

Yunho-shi raises an eyebrow.

Jaejoong swallows roughly and mutters, “S-sir.” God, it’s embarrassing, but enthralling.

“No. I will come and take it off you eventually.”

So he has no idea how long it will be on. It’s not even seven. He bites his lip against a curse.

“You’re dismissed.”

Jaejoong has to swallow again, use the table to stand. He manages to refasten his slacks. And then he bows, mutters a polite goodbye, and turns around, staggering out to the hallway.

His rooms are hot. Everything is twisting and steamy. He tries to read. He tries study.

Finally, after only a half hour, he gives up. He takes off all of his clothes and lays on the bed. The air is cool on his skin, but he’s so hot, flushed and sweaty. Arms and legs spread, he questions what he is doing. Why is he doing this? Why is he going along with this? He does not have to. He can take the cockring off, pleasure himself, and tell Yunho-shi to fuck off.

Why doesn’t he?”

Because Yunho-shi is his father? Because Yunho-shi told him? Demanded? Commanded?

Jaejoong whimpers. The truth is that he loves it. He absolutely loves it. It’s why he crawls into bed with Junsu most of the time, because Junsu is demanding and fierce. Junsu controls him in bed. Forces him.

But Yunho-shi controls him in every single aspect of his life. Except this one.

And now ... maybe Yunho-shi is doing this to drive home the point that he does not see himself as Jaejoong’s father, sperm donor aside.

Jaejoong is also sure all of this is going to fuck up his adulthood too. He’s studied psychology and taken sociology classes. He’s going to be fucked up no matter what though. One of his teachers attempted to get him to see the school psychologist because of not having parents and Yunho-shi’s distant parenting methods. He hated the woman who attempted to tell him that he was depressed and antisocial.

As soon as he told Yunho-shi about it, he never went back. Jaejoong is sure that his guardian called the school to complain. Probably threatened to stop the huge yearly donation he made to keep the school in business.

Money, as Jaejoong has always known, will fix almost any problem. Like a little problem of an unwanted child.

Jaejoong huffs. He figures though that if he had known that Yunho-shi was his father, that he’d be depressed and on his way to being a serial killer or something. Such indifference from a legal guardian is different than indifference from a father.

This is probably going to fuck up his mind a bit.

But Jaejoong stays as he is, spread eagle on his bed, and does not touch himself. Because he’s already a little fucked up and he will obey. He will be good.

Jaejoong has no idea what time it is or how long he has been lying and squirming in bed when his door finally opens. It’s dark, and the sudden light flaring on has him wincing.

“Have you touched yourself?” Yunho-shi asks.

Jaejoong whines loud and ends the noise with a desperate, “No, sir. Please.”

Everything is blurry, and Jaejoong feels his hips lift off the bed. This is worse than dinner because he’s naked and trying not to be embarrassed and he doesn’t really care. Yunho-shi’s blurry silhouette moves around his room. He removes his suit jacket, hanging it on Jaejoong’s desk chair. He opens a drawer and takes out Jaejoong’s bottle of lube.

He knows where it is.

Jaejoong moans. But that just proves that Yunho-shi knows everything about him.

But lube? What is he planning? Jaejoong wishes he knew, wishes he could guess.

The bed at his feet dips, and Jaejoong blinks, trying to focus on Yunho-shi kneeling between his spread legs. His hand reaches out, and Jaejoong holds his breath, expecting fingers on his skin. Instead, the cockring starts to vibrate and Jaejoong cries out, hips jerking off the bed. His body shakes almost immediately through a dry orgasm that has him crying.

Heat. Control. Foreboding. All of it twists around the room and settles over the top of him. A single finger runs from his bellybutton up his stomach to his breastbone.

“Your exercise routine is paying off. I will tell your trainer to increase the level of difficulty.”

Jaejoong whines. He can’t do anything but whine. Even words are beyond him at this point.

The heat moves away, and Jaejoong protests. But it doesn’t go far, just back between his legs, and Jaejoong can sort of see through his tears that Yunho-shi is kneeling.

Large, firm, strong hands grip his knees and yank him up and down the bed. His ass lays against the expensive fabric of Yunho-shi’s suit pants. His feet end up on Yunho-shi’s calves, his bent legs falling open. Lube drips over his body, slips down his cleft. A single finger follows is and presses against his throbbing entrance.

Jaejoong’s arm moves, and then his hand, on his own, and he grips Yunho-shi’s wrist with a whimper. It’s too sensitive.

The hand moves, yanked away, and Yunho-shi growls and smacks him across the face. “Do not touch me.”

Jaejoong whimpers more and puts his hand back above his head.

His thighs ache, his knees are sore, everything hurts and he can’t breathe.

The zipper is loud in his head.

He moans, eyes shutting, unable to grasp the reality of this. Maybe he’s dreaming. But the warmth of a dick against his body gives way to pain as Yunho-shi thrusts inside him. No prep, no pause, just inside him, and his dick is too big, and stretches Jaejoong beyond anything he’s used to, and he screams again, upper body lifting off the bed as he’s taken.

A firm hand against his chest pushes him back to the bed.

The soft fabric slides over his ass and thighs.

He can’t breath. He chokes.

And then the vibrations on the cockring are higher and he’s trembling, sweating, pulsing around the thick and long intrusion in his body, screaming through another orgasm that does nothing more than make everything worse.

Yunho-shi moves. Pulls out almost all the way and slides right back it. It’s slow. Painful. Stretching. Each one has Jaejoong’s breath stopping, high whimpers and gasps echoing around them.

It’s so slow, he can feel the wide head of Yunho-shi pressed against muscles that are not meant to be pressed against. He pushes farther than Jaejoong thinks is possible, till his throat is constricting to the same tempo as his ass.

Everything blurs. Everything goes gray and spotty. He’s half unconscious when a firm hand slaps him across the face, and for a moment, everything is lucid.

Yunho-shi inside him. Over him. Glaring at him. It’s all very clear, and Jaejoong gasps something that sound like “Please.”

His thrusts increase. Just enough, and the cycle starts over. The vibrations, the fucking, the noises. And again he’s slapped when he almost succumbs to the gray. Harder. Sharp. It happens again and again.

Fingers curl around his dick and Jaejoong shakes, cries, and screams through more interrupted pleasure.

It continues. A cycle. He is slapped again and again, but he does not pass out. He can’t do anything, but lay with his legs spread, arms above him, and be a body that Yunho-shi uses in whatever way he wants.

That is all he is right now. That is all he will ever be to Yunho-shi: something to use and something to control.

As another orgasm builds, Jaejoong doesn’t really even care. He’s never been fucked for so long. He’s never been held so long on the precipice of pleasure, denied over and over again to fall over it, crashing and screaming.

It’s when it stops that Jaejoong really protests.

Yunho-shi stops with his dick completely inside Jaejoong, his ass again pressed to the soft fabric of his pants.

Jaejoong actually growls and tries to rock his hips up and down to get Yunho-shi to move again. He receives another slap to his face and a command to be still.

Impossible, but Jaejoong tries. Tightens every muscle he can, tilts his head back, pressing it into the bed and tries not to move.

But Yunho-shi touches his cock again, and Jaejoong rolls his hips.

The slap this time is to his balls. Hard and sharp that has him screaming, pain whipping over his skin.

“Be. Still!”

Jaejoong whines and tries so hard, but he can’t. He can’t stop his body from moving.

With a loud growl, Yunho-shi pulls away from him, and Jaejoong starts muttering apologies. He can’t help it. His body is so empty, and so is his heart. He’s devastated and whimpering, trying so hard. He mutters all this, even as Yunho-shi yanks him to his stomach, manipulates his body until he is on his knees, face against the bed, back bowed toward it. Yunho-shi forces his knees further apart.

“Since you cannot listen to me ...”

And he’s spanked. Hard. With Yunho-shi’s hand. Over and over. His face jerks against the bed. It all hurts so much, but it’s Yunho-shi’s disappointment that fuels his tears.

He tried. He tried!

“Since you can’t seem to hold still when I tell you to,” he says, each word punctuated by a firm spank, and then he’s done, above him, and there is a firm foot--a leather shoe--pressed to his neck. His hips are pulled up, body bent too much, and Yunho-shi slams his dick inside him again, from above, standing and holding Jaejoong just where he wants.

Jaejoong shakes, and it’s hard to breathe with a foot on his neck and from the angle, and everything is gray anyway.

It’s almost a dream, everything waving and muted, when the vibrating cockring is suddenly gone, and Yunho-shi yanks on his balls almost as harshly as he fucks him into the bed.

But the cockring is gone, and Jaejoong screams as what he thought was just another fake orgasm crashes through him, and he’s coming hard, harder than at dinner, splattering his release all over his own thighs and the blanket. His body falls to the bed. Instead of a foot, a hand presses down on his neck, cutting off his gasping breath.

Heat covers him, closes around him. Yunho-shi’s dick is gone, leaving his entrance to gape and clench in time to the throbbing aftereffects of his orgasm. And splatters of heavy release land up and down his back.

Both hands are suddenly by his head. There is warm breath on his cheek, panting and the warmth of his body rubs against Jaejoong’s, Yunho-shi’s dick sliding up and down his cleft, riding out the rest of his orgasm that pulses over his ass.

It’s a moment that Jaejoong wishes could last forever.

With Yunho-shi’s mouth so close, he wants a kiss, but he knows better. He really hopes he dreams about it.

He smiles and finally feels his body relaxing. He’s wavering between awake and passed out, and Yunho-shi moves away from him, and Jaejoong’s happiness shatters a little.

“You do not have to wear the cockring when you sleep, but you are not allowed to jerk off and you are not allowed to touch yourself. When you come to breakfast, you will be wearing that cockring with the vibrations on low. You will learn to control yourself.”

Jaejoong swallows, and somehow manages to say, “Yes, sir.”

When the door shuts, it all comes crashing onto Jaejoong and everything hurts, and his body aches, and for a long time the only sounds are his sobs.

---

Jaejoong isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but he wakes up, almost in the same position, when his alarm starts blaring.

He growls at it and tries to move, crying out when his muscles protest. He has to take some deep breaths before he manages to pull himself across the bed. He shuts off the alarm, and then notes a glass of water and pain medication. He takes them gratefully.

His morning routine is difficult. After his bath, when he jerks himself to make him hard, it actually hurts because his body is sore and sated.

In pain. Well, that’s mostly his heart.

Mostly.

Like everything, last night went just as Yunho-shi wanted. Selfish to the end.

Jaejoong thinks for a moment that he cannot handle that.

The indifference in Yunho-shi’s office is different than the indifference after he’s given Jaejoong one of the most powerful orgasms of his life.

It is different to Jaejoong.

It is not different to Yunho-shi, and Jaejoong doubts it ever will be. It angers him a little bit. But not completely. As Jaejoong thinks about it, it’s just standard Jung Yunho-shi bastard behavior.

He takes a deep breath and makes a decision that before the end of the day, he’ll decide if he wants to continue this or not.

He stops in his tracks, pants halfway on and realizes that he does have control of this. He really really does. If he decides to tell, it is Yunho-shi that will lose everything. It is Yunho-shi who will go to prison.

So that is Yunho-shi’s punishment. Never knowing when Jaejoong will turn him in. It gives him a bit of a thrill to have that much power over Yunho-shi’s life. Control over his pleasure and over his life is not even close to the amount of power Jaejoong has.

With a rebellious smirk, Jaejoong finishes dressing in his school clothes.

As always, he is right on time to his breakfast meeting with Yunho-shi.

Yunho-shi is dressed in a blue suit with a pale yellow shirt. His tie is almost too bright, a mix of blues, reds and yellows. He is eating his yogurt when Jaejoong steps in. As he always does, he stands just before the table, never too close to bother Yunho-shi while he eats.

But Yunho-shi glances up at him, holds out his hand and beckons him.

Confused, Jaejoong moves around the table.

Silently, Yunho-shi points down, and lust slams through Jaejoong so fast, that he’s falling to his knees from the force of it, breath gasping in the silence.

“You are not begging me to excuse you from school today,” Yunho-shi says.

Jaejoong swallows roughly past the lust to form coherent thoughts in his head. “Why would I do that? Yesterday was a shitty day--”

He is smacked hard, head whipping to the side.

“What did I tell you about watching your language?”

Jaejoong takes a deep breath, trying to center himself, and then he looks back at Yunho-shi. By the man’s smirk, he doesn’t quite mask his anger.

“I’m sorry, sir. Yesterday was a bad day. I am fine today.”

“I expect you home at precisely three p.m. today.”

“Yes, sir.”

His breath catches as Yunho-shi reaches for him. With his foot. A dark brown shoe today. He uses the tip to press between his legs, lift up against his balls. And then the vibrations speed up.

Jaejoong moans and sways forward, eyes shutting.

“Do you need to come this morning?”

Jaejoong swallows and says, “I won’t say no to that, but need? No, sir. I do not need to.”

The toe tips up, two quick pats. “Good boy. Remove the cockring. You are not to wear them to school. You have a reputation to uphold.”

Shaking only slightly, Jaejoong releases his belt and unclasps his pants. He pushes his boxers down, and only pauses in his movements when the toe of Yunho-shi’s shoe runs up the length of his dick. He throbs, moans, and bites his lip against a curse.

“What guarantee do I have from you that you will not jerk off while you are at school?”

Jaejoong narrows his eyes at him and glares.

Yunho-shi raises an eyebrow in warning. The foot presses harder.

With a pout, Jaejoong huffs and says, “Because you told me I’m not allowed to. It’s a rule.”

Yunho-shi almost smiles. Almost. His toe touches his balls and then moves away.

Jaejoong continues and removes the cockring. Almost immediately, Yunho-shi’s foot is under his chin, lifting his head up.

“And what guarantee do I have that you will keep your mouth shut about this?”

Jaejoong smirks, head light, because Yunho-shi also understands that Jaejoong is in control of this. “Back to what I want?”

Yunho-shi nods once. “What do you want for your silence?”

Jaejoong does not even need to think about it. He has no need of money, toys, or clothes. Yunho-shi will provide all those to him no matter what. But last night ... last night ... his dismissal had hurt.

“A kiss,” Jaejoong blurts out.

Yunho-shi tutts in dismissal. “Seriously. Do not--”

“I am serious, sir. I want a kiss.”

“A single kiss?”

“For today. A kiss today will guarantee my silence for the day.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Another kiss.”

Yunho-shi removes his shoe from his chin. With feet on the floor he leans forward, into Jaejoong’s space. “One kiss a day?”

“As many as I want.”

Yunho-shi shakes his head. “No. One kiss a day for your silence. Any others, you must earn.”

Jaejoong’s eyes go wide. “Earn?”

“Yes. You are learning to control yourself, be disciplined. When I have judged you to have done something worthy of a reward, you will receive a kiss. Do you understand?”

Jaejoong nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Your kiss.” His fingers are tight on Jaejoong’s chin, jerking his face up to a harsh angle. Lips touch his, press for a moment, and Jaejoong thinks for just a moment that Yunho-shi is shaking, and then he pulls away.

“That was not a kiss,” Jaejoong says with a pout.

Yunho-shi leans back in the chair and raises an eyebrow. “Are you not smart enough to know what the definition of a kiss is? Our lips were together. That is a kiss.”

“Not the kind of kiss I want.”

“I am not sure that matters.”

“Then fine. It’s not the kind of kiss that will keep my mouth shut.”

Yunho-shi takes a very deep breath. “Very well.” He leans back forward. This time, his hand is soft, tilting Jaejoong’s chin up, fingers curling over his cheek. Their lips touch again, a softer press that Yunho-shi holds for a moment before adding pressure, and his lips move into another kiss that smacks in the silence of the room. And Jaejoong follows his lead, kiss after kiss, soft and then surging forward. Jaejoong whimpers when Yunho-shi’s tongue touches his lip and then is in his mouth. The hand tightens on his cheek, leading him through a slow dance of tongues and lips, and then he’s pulling away.

“Better?” Yunho-shi asks.

“Much,” Jaejoong manages to say.

“Enough for your silence?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Yunho-shi pushes him back by a palm on his forehead. He twists in his chair and goes back to his food.

Jaejoong pouts and fights the urge to cross his arms.

“You’ll be late for school if you do not leave soon. You are dismissed.”

Jaejoong does not want to leave. Not now. He wants another kiss. But he’ll have to earn them. And being late to school will not allow him to earn them. But his head is still light, flightly, stuffy, and he blames the lust for what he does next. He leans forward, on his hands and knees, lowers himself just enough to press a kiss to the toe of Yunho-shi’s shoe.

“Thank you, sir.”

He has no idea what effect the action has on Yunho-shi. He stands up quickly, turns, and fastens his slacks over his erection on his way to the door.

It’s not until he’s in the back of a towncar, on his way to school, that he realizes that he is still smiling.

.