Chapter Text
‘He won’t be home until midnight.’
The bright blue text bubbles refuse to leave Mingi’s memory as his body is already warm with anticipation.
‘Don’t come with any jewelry or neck accessories, I got you a new one.’
Fuck. Mingi already knows the energy of the night from those two messages alone. His tone is clearly serious, even over text. Proper grammar, no silly emojis, none of his usual goofy charm. God damn it. This is one of those nights where Yunho tortures him. So much for his prize after dutifully following orders and fucking San so hard he somehow fucked up his voice when he wasn’t even the one who got throatfucked that night.
‘what happened to my reward’
‘what if I don’t come’
‘not this bullshit again ur the one that owes me’
No reply. Mingi is left alone with the tension of each one of his messages being marked as read the moment they’re delivered, with no sign of ever earning him a response. He waits half an hour, then an hour. He considers two, but a glance at the darkness beyond the shades of his window gives him pause. A quick peek down at the clock in the corner of his phone confirms his fears. Damn it, it’s already 8. Still, Mingi can’t resist the urge to push his luck.
‘tired of waiting yet’
‘im not coming unless i know im getting what i earned’
Still nothing but a taunting checkmark next to his message. Son of a bitch.
He would love to completely waste Yunho’s time, ruin whatever elaborate game he had planned and force his hand with a quick fuck minutes before San entered the building. Mingi knows if Yunho is texting him like this, he’s just as horny as usual. The longer he waits this out, the longer Yunho is also being teased.
Mingi’s phone vibrates, not just one pulse for a new message but a series of vibrations and the telltale screen of a red end button, a green button to pick up and Yunho’s name displayed front and center. Even his contact picture feels like a mockery, with those bright puppy eyes and a big goofy smile. In any other context, he wouldn't be able to help but smile at his little golden retriever. But now, it’s as if the bastard read his thoughts. He’s embarrassed by the way his breathing instantly quickens with excitement at finally getting a response. Why not just text back?
“If you’re not here in the next 3 minutes, San gets your prize.” Yunho’s tone is devilish, barely above a whisper yet clear despite being a bit garbled from the phone speaker.
Just when Mingi takes a breath to prepare to respond he’s met with a dial tone. Fuck.
His mind scrambles between trying to refuse Yunho’s urgent temptation and the panic of if he could even make it in time. Yunho didn't even give him a full 5 minutes.
He’s had time to clean himself up at least in the hour of trying to stall Yunho out. Still, he looks frantic and rushed as he fumbles to slap on some grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt, slipping on his slides and hurrying out his own door. Of course, Yunho and San’s room is the furthest down the hall.
Mingi’s face is hot with embarrassment as he forces himself to power walk down the hallway—no time for quiet subtlety. Anyone behind the doors he passes will surely hear each thud of his rushed footsteps.
Once he finally reaches the door of his torture chamber to be, his hand instantly flies to the handle. And instead of pressing down and letting him swing the door open, it resists him fully, stiffly locked in place.
Mingi curses through his teeth. He swears he can hear some sound of amusement from the other side. Either that or he knows all too well exactly what Yunho’s face must look like right now.
He nearly jumps when his phone buzzes in his pocket, hastily retrieving the glowing screen to silence it. A call from Yunho. What the fuck is he doing? Again, his first instinct is to end the call just to fuck up the elaborate scene clearly prepared for him, but he’s too curious about how Yunho is going to proceed to push the red button. Instead, he swallows hard and presses the green one.
“Follow any instructions given to you. Don’t speak unless I tell you to.” Mingi’s stomach drops at the cold voice brought up to his ear. It’s eerie hearing it over the phone and the distant echo of the real thing beyond the locked door that divides them.
“Say yellow if you want me to slow down or ease up. Red and I’ll stop.” Jesus. Yunho’s always been good at being commanding, but he’s really flexing his acting muscles tonight.
“Respond.”
A few beats of tense silence pass as Mingi searches his brain for the ability to speak.
“Yes…”
“Gooood, just like that, darling.” The way the first word of praise drags on has Mingi already starting to get hard; long, and drenched with malevolence. It’s obvious Yunho is pleased with himself just as much as he is with Mingi’s answer. He can practically hear the smirk on Yunho’s face. It makes Mingi’s breathing uneven the moment he imagines what Yunho must look like.
Mingi’s shaky inhale must have been caught by his microphone as Yunho seemingly assumes the other was about to speak.
“Oh and Mingi, a word of advice.” The lack of a pet name somehow has Mingi more anxious than before. “You don’t want to be bad tonight. Trust me.” Every phrase is low and slow yet pointed and deliberate.
Before Mingi can even think of breaking the rules already and speaking out of turn, footsteps towards the door have warmth pooling in his stomach. The lock clicks, the handle turns, the door opens, and Mingi is not prepared for the sight he’s met with.
Yunho is dressed like he’s ready to get on stage. Hair so black it’s nearly blue, all done up, bangs neatly parted as the tips curl just behind the thin rimmed reading glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. An exorbitant, elegant-smelling amber cologne wafts off of a black dress shirt with so many buttons undone that it may as well be a V-neck. Meanwhile, a thin-chained cross necklace hangs hostage between his cleavage. An empty illusion of virtue from the man who only intends to revel in sin tonight.
A pin stripe suit jacket hugs broad shoulders before becoming cinched at his comparatively narrow waist and flaring back out at the wide of his hips at the end. And said hips are rounded and tight against dress slacks, intentionally more form-fitting than anything he would probably dance in. The final touch is a pair of black leather Chelsea boots with a 2-inch heel; just enough to make Mingi look up to make eye contact. He barely has a chance to drink it all in.
“Here with 27 seconds to spare.” Yunho gestures to an expensive-looking watch. “Looks like you didn’t want to waste my time afterall, angel.” Mingi feels a bit dizzy trying to take it all in. It doesn’t even register until a few beats of complete shock that this fucker really was timing him. And that voice. It’s still evil, but there’s at least a hint of playfulness he’s come to expect. That and a giddiness that makes Mingi start to sweat. Oh no.
“You did so well with San, I got you a gift! I saw how much you loved wearing chains lately, so I just had to get you something special.” If Mingi was fully present and keeping up with everything happening, he'd probably roll his eyes. Instead, Mingi stands frozen as Yunho slips a hand past him to close the door. The same hand eagerly grabs him and whisks him away, gleefully pulling him past San’s bed over to his. The Chelsea boots Yunho has on make him even taller than he already was, especially when compared to Mingi and his flat slides. He notices how much smaller he feels and he nearly throbs. Especially when Yunho maneuvers around him and he feels the other man’s chest against his back.
“A pretty necklace for my pretty princess.” He coos as long, dexterous fingers guide a loop of chains over Mingi’s head rather than fastening a clasp around his neck. If anything, what he feels on the back of his neck is more like some kind of big O shape, cold and likely as metallic as everything else. Odd, most kink collars have the big O-ring in the front. He should know he’s a veteran at this point. Despite all this, there’s a pause and the sound of more rustling metal before a click. The sound seems to snap Mingi out of his stunned stupor, even though just hearing Yunho call him a pretty princess has him fighting to retain that clarity.
“What do you think?”
“I think,” Mingi hesitates for a moment, briefly recalling the rules he was given over the phone and the fact that he very much just broke rule #2. He swallows his own saliva before he decides he just doesn’t give a fuck, “I think you’re being stupid on purpose.”
There’s a tense, still silence. Yunho doesn’t respond. He hasn’t moved since Mingi first started speaking. Mingi can’t help the cocky smirk that crosses his lips. He’s off whatever script he thinks Yunho has drafted up in his freaky little head, and he can almost feel the way Yunho’s evil little grin must be souring right about now.
“You said if I ruined San for you or whatever, you’d give me what I needed and then fucked off for another week. And now you're trying to bribe me so I go even longer without-!”
Without warning, the metal links slide, and the O-ring Mingi felt on the back of his neck tightens enough to completely stop his voice in his throat before releasing and returning to their original state. He nearly doubles over from the shock of it if not for the strong hand that grasps his waist on the left to stabilize him.
“Oh Mingi. Mingi Mingi Mingi…”
Oh no. No no no.
His head was already a bit floaty as he tried to make heads or tails of this entire scenario. Now, small dots speckle his vision after that initial act of asphyxiation and his brain all but nosedives into subspace. Thankfully, it wasn't anything worryingly bad. Mingi would be lying if he said he hasn't had Yunho's hands around Mingi's his throat a few times in the past. But this? There's a new layer to it all that makes him even more dizzy. Mingi knew it the second he heard the excitement in Yunho's voice. It doesn’t matter how good of an actor he is, Mingi had a hunch his puppy’s new toy would be something they’ve never played with before. He was curious all evening what new neck accessory he would receive. Now his whole body is tense, his mind is fighting against the brief high from having his airways constricted, and his breathing is shaky as a dark chuckle reverberates through his spine.
“I really did want to reward you after that night. You gave him everything just like I asked afterall.” Yunho’s voice drops to a low purr as he continues. “You think I don't get it? Oh, I know exactly what you want, Mingi. I just couldn’t help but wonder what you need.”
The cock I’ve been craving ever since this game started. Mingi mentally retorts.
“And the more I thought about it, the more I replayed that night in my head. All of that night.” Mingi can’t help but swallow hard from the way he instantly connects the choking he received to all his antics with that belt. He was already pushing his luck that night by turning a relatively innocent blowjob into a full-on throatfuckfest. And he didn't exactly do himself any favors, gloating every moment he could thereafter. Now it's obvious Yunho only let him get away with his brattitude because San was in the room.
Yunho sighs, thumb absentmindedly swirling circles into the flesh of Mingi’s waist. His tone lilts back up a bit, still sinister and salacious but with a bit of a sardonic pout. “I really tried to remind myself that you were good towards the end. But then I waited, and waited, and waited some more.” The longer he monologues, the more of any hint of playfulness is drowned in a sea of vengeful, sadistic delight.
“Then it hit me. I realized what you really need more than anything else.” Yunho’s wrist turns a few times, letting the silvery chain link leash wrapped around his fist unwind and dangle freely. The slight sway of it grazes Mingi’s lower back and makes his entire body hot with fear and arousal.
“Training.”