Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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SH POV

Seonghwa ensures that he’s at the café about 30 minutes before 8PM.

He somehow manages to get out of the office only five minutes past 7PM. From there he speed walks to catch his train, practically breaking his neck down the stairs into the subway station. He stays standing by the door, mostly because the train is packed with the after work rush, but also because he’s too twitchy and nervous to sit down anyways.

By the time Seonghwa reaches the Twosome Place that Hongjoong sent him the address pin of, he is more than a little out of breath. The soft t-shirt he’s wearing under his dress shirt is sweaty, clinging in a positively disgusting way to his underarms and his ribs. It is a relief, at least, to glance at his watch and see that it is only 19:28.

He’s looked up the café on Naver, of course. Scrolling through all the photos to form a picture of the layout in his head. He still hovers outside of the windows for a good ten minutes, reassuring himself that the café still looks the same as it did when the photos were taken earlier this year. There are new specials, of course, since it’s a different season, but he always buys the same drink anyways so it doesn’t matter. A woman and her friend are just finishing up their coffee and a shared piece of cake, and Seonghwa watches them with eagle eyes, carefully checking where they place down their used dishes and the tray.

That was in the photo as well, but he just has to make sure . In case Kim Hongjoong asks him to clean the table, and he panics and forgets where to put everything and looks like a complete idiot and Hongjoong hates him and immediately asks to transfer to another, better sub.

The wet, sweaty patches on his undershirt have turned cold now. Simply maddening , under the coarse seams of his shirt and the heavy sweater and vest he’s wearing.

Seonghwa quickly checks his watch. There is still about a quarter of an hour left, and the bathroom is just around the corner.

In the bathroom, he quickly changes his sweaty undershirt for the spare one he habitually keeps in his cross-body bag. He immediately feels better, once he has soft, dry cotton against his skin again. He sits down on the closed toilet for a bit. Cracking the knuckles on his fingers methodically, from one pinky finger all the way through to the other.   Breathing. Or trying to at least.

HJ POV

Hongjoong ensures that he’s at the café about 10 minutes before 8PM.

The first floor is fairly busy, but he finds a nice spot on the second floor. A booth, next to the large windows overlooking a small park. The large trees and the kids playing under the yellow lights on the playground makes for a peaceful view and Hongjoong stands and watches for a moment, letting the stress of his work day bleed away a little.

He puts his violin case down on one of the booth seats, leaning his umbrella on the table as well to properly claim the spot. At least it has stopped raining. This morning when he left for the university it looked set to drizzle the entire day.

Hongjoong quickly checks his phone. There are no new messages from Seonghwa, which hopefully means that he is comfortably on his way and finding the place easily. 

Mingi and Jongho are poking at each other in the group chat again and Hongjoong mutes it with a fond sigh. Mingi likes an audience, it’s the exhibitionist in him Hongjoong supposes. And usually Hongjoong finds it quite amusing to back Jongho up and let Mingi play off his own dominance a little. But tonight his new sub needs all his attention.

He’s not entirely sure what to think of Park Seonghwa, to be honest. Just from his file and the few messages they’ve exchanged he’s already struggling to form a clear picture of his new submissive. His file is way too empty for someone who’s been with the programme for close to two years now. Just his submission registration form, a few doctors’ letters confirming his diagnosis with Ehlers’ Danlos syndrome. With a recommendation that physical exercise and stress positions do not make out part of his dynamic management plan. And finally, no less than a dozen intake forms from various doms over the years.

Not all of them filled to a satisfactory degree, in Hongjoong’s opinion, although he didn’t exactly study all of them in depth.

Nevertheless, twelve is a high number and one of the things that definitely makes it hard for Hongjoong to form a clear picture of the sub he’ll be meeting in just a few short minutes.

Submissives who change doms that quickly tend to be one of two types in his experience. They’re either so easy-going and vanilla that doms tend to get a little bored and ask for a transfer, or they’re so undisciplined and demanding that doms don’t trust themselves to even punish them and end up transferring out without any punishment records ending up in the sub’s file.

Hongjoong chews the inside of his mouth for a moment, silently sending up a quick prayer that Park Seonghwa won’t be in the latter category. He’s had a sub like that before, about three or four months ago, in what he assumes was one of the department’s infamous clerical errors. The sub’s masochist class and Hongjoong’s own gentle classification clashed horribly . He wanted, rather badly, to do more for the poor kid who was clearly spiraling out of control, suffering from dynamic neglect and barely hanging on by a thread, but their dynamic impulses simply hadn’t allowed them to find each other in any meaningful way.

Seonghwa is a classed brat at least, which is much more complimentary to Hongjoong’s dynamic specialty.

Taking another deep breath and relaxing his shoulders, Hongjoong gives himself a small smile in the window reflection. It’ll be okay. He’s just going to do his best, and be the best dom he can possibly be for Seonghwa. Regardless of what kind of sub he turns out to be, and how long their agreement lasts.

It’s five minutes to eight when he checks his watch. He’d better head down to the door now, to welcome his new sub.

As he walks down the steps, he sees a fashionably dressed man with bright bleach blonde curls ducking in through the door. Although Seonghwa has brown hair in the picture that’s on file, Hongjoong immediately recognises his large, soft eyes, strong nose and wide cheekbones.

Smiling broadly, Hongjoong goes to greet him.

“Seonghwa-ssi, hello!”

The man startles, his eyes going round before he drops into a hasty, jerky bow.

“Good evening, Sir. I’m so sorry if I’m late…”

Again, the apologising.

Hongjoong picked up on that while they were messaging. It also contributed to his puzzlement. A sub who ran twelve doms ragged over the course of two years is not the type of Sub, in his experience, who also profusely apologises for not messaging first, for appearing the slightest bit demanding, for being late even though he really, really isn’t . The bright, round eyes that peer beseechingly at Hongjoong also don't fit with the image of a dom-eater sub.

“You’re just on time,” Hongjoong says warmly. He gives the sub an encouraging smile and watches with satisfaction as the tension creases around his eyes lessen marginally. “I came a little early so that I could find a nice spot for us. Let’s go upstairs. You can put down your stuff and catch your breath, and then we’ll order. Does that sound okay?”

The firm tone and firmer suggestions lessen the tension in the sub’s shoulders even further. He nods smoothly.

“Yes, sir!”

“Our table’s there by the window,” Hongjoong says as they go upstairs, Seonghwa following a deferential two steps behind him. “The one with the violin.”

“Ah, I see it, sir.”

Seonghwa’s voice is a little airy and high-pitched, almost cutesy, fitting in with the flighty blonde curls and the brightly-colored clothes that he’s wearing. Wide-legged jeans with flowers stitched onto the pockets, bright yellow converse, a green checkered sweater and a pink pullover. His messenger bag is made of high-quality leather, as is his belt. His job as a cartoonist evidently pays well, at least.

At the table, Seonghwa comes to a halt. Neatly, with his heels together and his hands fidgeting just slightly on the shoulder strap of his bag. When he notices Hongjoong looking at his hands, he clenches them abruptly into stillness, his knuckles whitening for a moment with the force.

He waits expectantly, his eyes in Hongjoong’s. Clearly waiting for Hongjoong to invite him to sit.

Hongjoong gives him a quick, approving smile, gesturing an invitation to the bench across from him.

“Please, Seonghwa-ssi, have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The small gesture of deference in waiting to be seated once again shows Hongjoong that this is no undisciplined submissive. And honestly, the promptness and the enthusiasm with which he is using the title ‘sir’ should have already been enough to convince Hongjoong.

As the sub sits down, Hongjoong gives him another gentle smile.

“You’re very polite, Seonghwa-ssi. Thank you for calling me sir so nicely.”

Seonghwa falters for just a moment, blinking, and then a shy, pleased smile creeps over his face. He drops his eyes to his table, quickly reaching out to straighten the small advertisement stand in the centre of it. A steady blush spreads over his cheeks, visible even through the layer of make-up he’s wearing.

“Thank you, sir. I…I try.”

“Well, you’re succeeding as well at the moment,” Hongjoong says, just a little firmly. If the sub is as vanilla and sweet as he’s appearing just at the moment, it’s a whole new puzzle why he’s reacting so strongly to just a simple bit of praise. He should be quite used to earning copious amounts of praise and adoration, for his manners alone. At least, that is what Hongjoong is sorely tempted to heap on him, at that moment.

“Yes, sir,” Seonghwa says, the blush spreading even further to his ears.

Deciding to push things any further, especially because a truly inappropriate level of dominance is already trying to elbow its way to the forefront of his brain, Hongjoong swings his legs to the side of the booth and stands up.

“Are you ready to order? Or would you like me to get you something?”

Seonghwa hesitates. Then, with an adorably shy smile, he looks up at Hongjoong.

“Would you…would you order for me, please, sir? I always get the peach iced tea.”

“Of course,” Hongjoong says, not surprised to have to actively resist the urge to tack on an endearment. Sweetheart or dove or lamb would go so well with the sweet sub in front of him. But that can come later, hopefully, once they’ve hashed out the intake contract. “Would you like to have something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?”

“No, sir, but you don’t have to…”

“Oh, I insist, Seonghwa-ssi,” Hongjoong says cheerfully. “We can’t focus on something important like a contract on an empty stomach, can we? I’ll get some toasted sandwiches for us to share. You don’t have any allergies, do you? I didn’t see anything in your file.”

“No, sir. Thank you, a sandwich would be delicious.”

“Awesome.”

Hongjoong resists the urge to whistle a little tune as he jogs downstairs. Thus far, it seems like he and Park Seonghwa are going to get along famously well.

SH POV

Hongjoong looks just like the picture on the dom form Seonghwa got from the department. Except that he’s shorter and much friendlier than Seonghwa could ever have imagined. His smile is so gentle and his gaze so intense and focused and inexplicably fond that Seonghwa finds himself relaxing against his better judgment.

It also helps a lot that he can sit down first, instead of rushing into the ordering process while his head is still turning from the roar of the traffic outside. And that Hongjoong has a table and it’s clearly marked so Seonghwa knows where to go and he doesn’t make Seonghwa stand next to the table for a bit just to test if he’ll sit down on his own by accident. And then he even offers to order for Seonghwa. Which is, honestly, the biggest relief of all. Seonghwa had been more than worried that he might be made to order for both of them, as an act of service for his new dom.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, cleaning the screen while he waits for the dom to come back. He’s turned it off, in the bathroom, worried that the group chat might get into one of their yapping sessions at the exact moment he’s busy talking to Hongjoong. Doms don’t like a constant buzzing in your pocket, while they’re trying to tell you what rules they expect you to follow. And honestly Seonghwa doesn’t need the added distraction either.

Hongjoong stays away for a bit, likely waiting downstairs to get their order once it’s ready.

He is carrying the tray when he comes back, the delicious cheesy smell of the toasted sandwiches preceding him. There is another blackish drink with ice cubes floating around in it which Seonghwa assumes might be iced americano.

“Thank you, sir,” he says promptly, when Hongjoong puts the tray down. “For…for ordering for me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Seonghwa-ssi. Here, help yourself.”

Seonghwa takes the drink that Hongjoong offers him and an empty plate. He waits for Hongjoong to take a square of the toast first, before taking one for himself. Watching carefully whether Hongjoong is going to use cutlery or not, and heaving a private sigh of relief when the dom just takes the sandwich with his fingers. He’s a little too nervous and distracted for cutlery now, a fork might end up flying to the floor or a knife might shoot across the table or something awful like that.

Seonghwa planned on asking what instrument Hongjoong plays, since his form did say that he’s a professor of music. The violin sitting on the bench next to him scraps that part of his script, however, and he strikes a blank for a moment as he tries to remember what his next planned question is.

“Your job…how is it?” he squeaks out then. Mentally giving himself a slap upside the head. Fucking idiot. He could at least try to sound normal.

Hongjoong only smiles, nodding while he swallows a bite of his sandwich.

“I enjoy it,” he says. “I work at SNU’s music department, as you probably know. I teach composition and some musicology. And violin, of course. I love music and I love teaching, so it’s a great fit for me. I have a great bunch of students at the moment.”

Seonghwa nods along, humming at the end of some of the sentences.

“I’m concertmaster for the Seoul Phil as well,” Hongjoong goes on, a little proudly. “I don’t know if you’re interested in classical music, but I’d be happy to get you some complimentary tickets.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Seonghwa says. He knows very little of classical music, but he supposes it’s never too late to develop a new interest. And if it makes his dom happy, he’d listen to classical music all day.

“What about you?” Hongjoong asks. “I saw that you're a cartoonist, on your file.”

“Oh, yeah.” Seonghwa looks down at his sandwich, trying to find the words. “It’s…nice? I have a good job, I guess. The company has a lot of influence in the webtoon world.”

“Are you publishing anything at the moment?”

Seonghwa nods, a bit more enthusiasm flickering up in his shoulders. “Yeah. The webtoon I’m currently working on is fairly popular. As were the few I worked on before that.” He winces. “So…high stress. Hence the programme. I got referred after collapsing and going into drop at work, two years ago.”

It should be on his first ever intake form, so Hongjoong probably knows it already. But it still feels a little awkward to say.

Hongjoong nods. “It seems quite common for people to get referred for stress related reasons,” he says. “A public drop sounds unpleasant, though. It must have been very scary for you. Are you on any medication?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “I took meds for a while, but with regular domming and spacing at least once a week I don’t really need it that much. The meds made me kind of sleepy and dull anyways, I couldn’t be productive at work. So…yeah.”

He feels a little vulnerable as he looks up from his drink, cautiously meeting Hongjoong’s eyes. They are full of understanding and Seonghwa feels himself warming a little under the encouraging smile that Hongjoong gives him. It’s not overly sympathetic, just understanding .

“I’m glad you’re taking care of your mental and dynamic health by staying in the programme, Seonghwa-ssi. It’s not always easy, and I imagine that it’s even more vulnerable and stressful on the submissive side of things.”

Seonghwa isn’t entirely sure if he’s allowed to nod, even if he wants to. He’s supposed to be thankful for the programme. It helps him keep his job, doesn’t it?

“I’d really like our partnership to be a positive experience for you,” Hongjoong continues, seriously. “If it’s okay with you, can we move on to completing our contract now?”

Seonghwa nods with some relief, pushing his drink to the side. “Yes, sir.”

The form is the least stressful bit of the evening, honestly. Clear questions, that he’s answered many times before, nicely made concrete with ink and paper.

He reaches for his bag, but Hongjoong stops him with an extended hand. “Just a moment, Seonghwa-ssi. Like I said, I really appreciate your deference and your politeness in calling me sir. But would it be okay for you to just call me Hongjoong-ssi for a while? I don’t want you to be in the mindset of thinking about pleasing me, or deferring to me while we’re discussing the contract. Especially not when we’re going to be discussing our respective boundaries and limits.”

Seonghwa freezes, his chest and his throat and his brain seizing up in what feels like a packet of crisps being squashed together.

Oh, shit . 

Park “Fucking Idiot” Seonghwa strikes again. Hongjoong wasn’t praising him when he thanked him for calling him sir. He was trying to fucking hint that he didn’t want Seonghwa to do it anymore. Shit. Shit shit . Why can’t his brain just function normally for once in its goddamn life. When it’s something important like this.

Seonghwa sits up hastily, folding his hands on the table and trying to scramble together an apology.

“Si-” Good fucking job, Park, you absolute moron . “I mean, Hongjoong-ssi, I’m so-”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Hongjoong interrupts. “You did nothing wrong by calling me sir. I’m not asking you to stop doing it because it was wrong. I’m just asking if you’d be okay with dropping the formality for a bit. Just for the window of time while we’re negotiating our kinks and boundaries. Because I don’t want the form of address to unintentionally put you into a too submissive mindset. Do you understand that? It’s for your own safety, not because I’m upset with you in any way. So that we can be one hundred percent sure that both of us are completing the intake with full consent.”

It’s hard to try and decipher Hongjoong’s expression, when he’s internally freaking out so badly. But he manages to focus on Hongjoong’s eyes, remembering that soft, slightly wide eyes like that usually meant that people are being kind. Or generous or happy or relieved, but mostly that they aren’t angry . Hongjoong’s mouth isn’t curled into a hard line, either. The muscles in his face generally aren’t tense, really. He’s not angry.

He’s not angry.

And that deduction helps calm Seonghwa down just a little bit so that he can replay what Hongjoong just said in his head. Actually understanding this time.

Something uncomfortable and big and awkward twists in his chest.

Hongjoong is taking care of him. Actually caring whether Seonghwa is in a proper headspace to consent, rather than just about what other people in the café might think if they hear Seonghwa not calling him ‘sir’ anymore.

“I understand,” he says, rather gruffly. “I…that would be okay with me. Hongjoong-ssi.”

Hongjoong gives him a bright smile. “Awesome. Now, how about we get down to business?”

Seonghwa nods, bending down to get his bag. Managing to do so without Hongjoong stopping him, this time. He takes out his file, running a habitual thumb over the textured edges of the small animal stickers that he’s plastered all over the clear cover.

Hongjoong is watching him when he looks up.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

Seonghwa finds himself smiling back, and he swallows down on the urge to thrust the file across the table at Hongjoong and start telling him all about the different kinds of animals that are on each sticker. “Thanks. I really like animals. Cute things in general, really.”

“Oh, me too,” Hongjoong fishes a pen out of his briefcase. “I love cute things. Do you need a….oh, I see you have a pen. Awesome. I thought we could each fill in a form as we go through, sign, switch, check for mistakes and then sign again. Sounds good?”

Seonghwa nods. “Yup.”

“Great.”

They get through the first parts of the form fairly quickly - just filling in their names, birthdates and designations. There is a line for Preferred forms of address under the desgs, and Hongjoong looks over at Seonghwa.

“How about it, Seonghwa-ssi?”

Seonghwa hesitates. “I’m not really into roleplaying, or anything,” he says. “But you can speak banmal to me. I prefer that when I’m spacing.”

Hongjoong nods, jotting some things down. “How about endearments?”

Seonghwa looks up at him, trying to ignore the twinge of want in his stomach.

Hongjoong looks slightly apologetic.

“Gentle dom here, Seonghwa-ssi. I really like calling my subs lots of sweet names. Honey, darling, sweetheart, dove, lamb, sugar…I could go on, probably indefinitely. Would that be something that you’re okay with?”

Seonghwa can just watch him for a moment, still trying to ignore the way his stomach swoops with want, the way his pulse quickens. He can’t help the small, happy smile that curves into his face as he looks down at his form. “I’d…I’d be okay with that, actually. I’d like it. A lot.”

“Yay!” Hongjoong pulls a slightly silly face, but Seonghwa can see the genuine joy in his eyes when he glances up.

He writes down endearments allowed in the appropriate section, before looking up at Hongjoong.

“What about you? Is there something you’d like me to call you? Do you…do you also like stuff like that?”

“You can if you want to,” Hongjoong says. “But it doesn’t do anything particular for me, not in a dynamic sense. I like being called sir, or dom-ssi. Especially during a scene, but in general too. I’m also fine with hyung, or even Hongjoong-ssi or banmal when we’re not in a scene. During a scene however, when I’m spacing, I might feel the need to discipline you if you use banmal.”

Seonghwa puckers his lips slightly, as he mulls over Hongjoong’s words. “So you wouldn’t really mind ,” he says, after a moment. “It’s not a limit, is it? You’d just punish me for it.”

Mild interest flickers in Hongjoong’s gaze. “You’re right. It’s not a limit for me. You can talk down to me during a scene, but very much at your own peril.”

Seonghwa feels his mouth twitching, his stomach giving a rather pleasant little swoop. “Understood, Hongjoong…ssi.”

Hongjoong grins. “I see what you did there.”

“Thank you, I try.”

Seonghwa honestly doesn’t remember the last time he’s had an exchange this close to risqué with a dom. Although Wooyoung and San would probably laugh their asses off at the tiny little bit of cheek being called risqué . Yeosang would just give him one of his sympathetic looks and start sending him “how to flirt with doms” reels on Instagram again.

Whatever it is, it feels good , and more than a little exciting.

They do the date next, putting in the standard department recommendation of six months.

“If we feel like we make a good pair we can always continue it,” Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa nods. It’s sweet of Hongjoong to say, but unlikely that it will ever come to that. If Hongjoong manages to make it to the end of the six months, there’s no chance in hell that he’ll want to go for another six. Seonghwa isn’t that stupidly optimistic.

HJ POV

The next section in the standardised departmental contract is labelled ‘Goals’. Hongjoong folds the paper neatly along the edge of the staple in the top corner and looks up at Seonghwa expectantly.

“So, goals, Seonghwa-ssi. What do you have in mind?”

Seonghwa’s face shutters, and he taps the pen against the table in a short, staccato rhythm. An unhappy rhythm, somehow. Tense.

“I need to be able to do my job well,” he says.

It makes sense, considering the fact that it was apparently his job stress who landed him in the programme to begin with. But the significance of the highly impersonal reply isn’t lost on Hongjoong.

“Okay.” Hongjoong checks the ‘career support’ box in the small suggested list of goals. “Anything else I can interest you in? Some personal growth? Task completion? Relaxation…double on the rocks?”

An unwilling smile twists into the corner of Seonghwa’s mouth at the corny joke. Hongjoong had rather hoped for a giggle, or even a snort of amusement, but he supposes a half-smile is a good start.

“No,” Seonghwa says. “Not really …I think. Maybe task completion? I sometimes…I’m lazy. With cleaning my place and cooking and stuff. It kind of connects to doing my job well, but it would be helpful if you could keep me accountable with that.”

“Certainly.” Hongjoong ticks the appropriate box. “Career support and Task completion it is then. Is it okay if I add a goal for us as well?”

Seonghwa nods, almost without thinking it seems. “Of course, s…” He flushes. “I mean, of course, Hongjoong-ssi.”

Hongjoong gives him a smile to indicate that he shouldn’t stress too much about the slip of the tongue.

“Thank you. I’d like to include stress relief and relaxation. You said before that you have a highly stressful job, and mine isn’t the most relaxing either.” He gives a slight grimace. “Violinists are infamously high-strung, although I don’t think I play into that stereotype too much. But the point being that I’d like for both of us to be able to use this dynamic as a way to let off steam, in a healthy way, and relax as well. I’ve seen before that when dynamics are overly focused on task-driven goals such as career or finances or even improving dynamic abilities, it can be a bit hard to allow yourself to just enjoy the dynamic. Not to mention asking for a scene or an extra spacing opportunity just because you want to feel good. Does that make sense?”

Seonghwa is fidgeting with his pen as he listens. He nods gruffly when Hongjoong has finished speaking.

“Yeah, sure, sounds great.”

He doesn’t sound overly enthusiastic, but Hongjoong hasn’t missed the flash of yearning in his eyes while he was speaking.

“Excellent,” Hongjoong turns to the next page after checking the box. Seonghwa follows suit, folding the paper over neatly in almost exactly the same way as Hongjoong did with the previous sheet.

“Ooh,” Hongjoong says. “ Rules . Not one of your favourite sections, I imagine.”

Seonghwa meets his teasing look rather seriously.

“I don’t mind it. I like rules.”

He seems quite in earnest, not teasing like he’d been about the formal language just a moment before, and Hongjoong only barely manages to not let his surprise show on his face. He’d honestly never met a brat who would openly admit to liking rules. Not unless they were well-spanked and sobbing across his knee, already firmly down in subspace.

“Or knowing them, at least,” Seonghwa continues. “Sometimes…sometimes people kind of assume that you know something that they don’t like but then you don’t and they get angry at you and…and that’s a bit hard.”

And, oh , that suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Hongjoong gives him a gentle smile.

“I can only imagine. I’ll make you a promise, though. I’ll never expect you to follow a rule that I haven’t explicitly told you about. Deal?”

Seonghwa looks at him for a long moment. Then he puts his hand into the hand that Hongjoong has extended across the table to him. His grip is firm.

“Deal.”

Hongjoong can see some of the tension draining from his eyes, as they smile at each other across their gripped hands.

“Alright.” Hongjoong flicks through the small stack of papers he took out, until he finds the sheets that he is looking for. He gives one to Seonghwa. “So, rules, Seonghwa-ssi. I’ve printed them out for us, so that we don’t have to spend time writing them down when we could better spend it discussing. They’re not set in stone, of course. We can make adjustments as needed.”

Seonghwa’s eyes are already flying over the lines, and he doesn’t immediately answer.

“Let’s go through them together,” Hongjoong says gently. “I’ll read rule number 1. ‘The submissive shall be respectful at all times. Rudeness, swearing, disrespect and bad manners will not be tolerated. Informal language is permissible outside of scening, but will not be tolerated during a scene.’” 

Seonghwa is watching him with large, expectant eyes when Hongjoong looks up from the paper.

“What do you think? Sounds good?”

Seonghwa blinks, seemingly at a loss for words.

Hongjoong just lets him process for a bit, keeping his expression neutral. It’s not the first time that a sub has looked at him like he’s grown a second head when he’s asked their opinion about the rules. He has never been of the class doms that feels like their word should be law, most definitely not during the negotiation stage. There is no point in making a bunch of rules if they sub isn’t going to be willing or able to follow them. If they aren’t creating the space for the type of dynamic the sub is interested in.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa says then. “Respect…respect is important to me too.”

Hongjoong gives him a smile. “Great. Can you read rule number 2 for us?”

Clearing his throat, Seonghwa proceeds to read in a clear voice. “The submissive shall always communicate clearly, honestly and openly. Understanding will be given for accidental and unintentional misunderstandings and miscommunication, but deliberate lies or lies by omission will be punished severely.”

A light pinkish tint is climbing into Seonghwa’s cheeks, and he doesn’t meet Hongjoong’s eyes this time.

Resisting the urge to reach out and pinch those bits of pink skin, Hongjoong looks down at his own papers with a small smile. It’s always so endearing , to see a sub get all flustered and squirmy and red just at the mention of the word ‘punishment’. Seonghwa isn’t close to squirming, of course, but the tint in his cheeks tells Hongjoong that he’s not unaffected.

“I’ll do rule number 3,” Hongjoong says. “It kind of connects to this one. The submissive will pick up the phone when the dominant calls him, and he will answer the dom’s text messages in a timely fashion. During work hours the submissive will not be expected to keep this rule, but he must contact the dom as soon after he gets off work as is possible.”

He can see that Seonghwa is unsure about something when he looks up again. The sub is biting his lip, sharp white teeth worrying at the chapped skin. Hongjoong waits for him to ask and when he realises that he’s not going to, he gives him an encouraging nod.

“That sounds okay, Seonghwa-ssi? What do you want to ask?”

Seonghwa glances up at him rather quickly, a bit of surprise flickering in his eyes. He swiftly casts his eyes down at his paper again.

“I think it’s a good rule,” he says. “I just…want to know what a timely fashion is, exactly? I know what it means, but I just…could you maybe say how long exactly? It’s not that I don’t want to do it, or that I’m arguing, I just want to be sure.”

“You’re more than welcome to argue,” Hongjoong says. “That’s what negotiating is for.”

There is a moment in which the only sound is the soft jazz music playing over the café’s sound system, and a few women in office clothes chattering away behind a plant in the far corner of the room.

“Ah, yes,” Seonghwa says then, uncomfortably. “Of course.”

He doesn’t look like he quite understands what Hongjoong means, and if he does it doesn’t look like he believes it. Hongjoong decides to leave it there, however, not wanting to make Seonghwa more uncomfortable.

“I think half an hour is fair.”

Seonghwa nods. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Great. Let’s make a note of that.”

When they’ve finished scribbling, Hongjoong asks Seonghwa to read rule four, which is a basic obedience rule, stating that the dominant will be the ultimate authority to which the submissive must defer for the duration of the contract. It doesn’t lead to much discussion, not that Hongjoong expects it too. He can see Seonghwa’s eyes flicking down to rule five continuously, however, the sub’s teeth slipping out to chew slightly at his bottom lip again.

“Rule five,” Hongjoong says brightly. “The submissive shall ask permission from the dominant to stay up later than 10PM, work overtime or weekends, get drunk, smoke or go out to nightclubs. Permission may or may not be granted at the discretion of the dominant.”

Seonghwa puts his paper down, flattening it with a quick, neat movement of his hands.

“The…uh…the second part.” He glances up at Hongjoong. “Working overtime? I…I need to do that a lot, and I don’t think it would be practical if I have to ask you every time. And even if you say no…” He trails off, flattening the paper again. “I don’t think…it would be really hard for me to do it like this.”

Hongjoong manages rather well, in his private opinion, to not let the dissatisfaction show on his face. No wonder the poor kid has work stress, if overtime and weekend work is such a common thing for him.

“I understand that,” Hongjoong says. “And my job isn’t to make things harder for you, Seonghwa-ssi. So let’s scrap that part for now. If we see that the overtime is contributing to your overall stress too much, we can always revisit that in the future. If it comes to that, I would be more than happy to speak to your manager in my capacity as your dominant.”

The headshake is immediate and very firm. “That won’t be necessary. It will work out fine like this.”

“But if it doesn’t work out,” Hongjoong returns, just as firmly. “We will be revisiting this part of the contract.”

For a moment, Seonghwa doesn’t answer, staring down at the paper in his hands with his jaw clenched.

“Alright,” he says then. “We’ll revisit it. If it’s necessary.”

Hongjoong can practically hear the ‘which it won’t be’ which Seonghwa badly wants to tack on.

SH POV

Rule number six is just that Seonghwa has to participate in the rituals set out under that heading in the contract. Which is a fairly standard rule to ensure that the sub actually commits to participating in routines that will lead to regular dynamic input and spacing. That’s what he remembers the nice social worker auntie telling him, at least, that first time he got roped into the programme.

Hongjoong produces a small stick of glue from his bag, and Seonghwa has to resist the urge to cradle it in his hands and coo at it when Hongjoong gives it to him. It has tiny green and pink frogs all over it. Too cute for words . Seonghwa glues the list of rules to his contract, at Hongjoong’s instruction.

When he tries to hand the stapler back to Hongjoong, the dom is instead holding out another small sheet of paper for Seonghwa to take.

“This is for the next page,” he says. “My responsibilities.”

Seonghwa takes the paper, noticing with some wonder that the list of responsibilities are just as long as his list of rules are. If not longer.

It is the responsibility of the dominant to

- treat the submissive with patience and kindness

- communicate openly, clearly and honestly with the submissive at all times and endeavour to make himself easy to understand

- set rules, expectations and boundaries for the submissive to follow

- provide the submissive with strong leadership that is oriented towards the goals agreed upon by both parties

- take care of the submissive physically, emotionally and dynamically

- provide the submissive with regular dynamic input in the form of everyday dominance, performance of rituals and routines, spacing, discipline and aftercare

The submissive has the right, should the dominant neglect any of these responsibilities, to request an apology or act of service as penance.

“Do you want us to read it out loud?” Hongjoong asks.

Seonghwa shakes his head, trying to ignore the strange twist of warmth in his stomach. It sounds so…nice. If Hongjoong is really going to do all these things. Although he can’t even fathom being cheeky enough to ask for an apology should Hongjoong forget or even choose not to do them.

“That’s…it’s okay, thank you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes are rather soft when Seonghwa looks up into them.

“Is there anything you want to add, Seonghwa-ssi? Or something you’re wondering about?”

“No, it’s okay, thank you.”

Seonghwa hastily glues the responsibilities sheet to the form. It has been cut in the perfect shape to fit neatly into the box where one would usually write in the responsibilities by hand. He takes a small sip of his iced tea while they turn to the next page, wincing at the wetness the condensed glass leaves on his fingers.

“This brings us to our rituals, I guess,” Hongjoong says, reaching out to yank a tissue out of the dispenser at the end of the table and hand it to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa accepts it with both hands, bowing slightly while he quickly dries his hand.

“Do you have any rituals in place that you followed with previous doms?” Hongjoong asks.

“Yeah.” Seonghwa bundles up the tissue, placing it neatly in the corner of the tray that is still between him and Hongjoong. “I have a morning routine and a night routine that I follow every day? It helps me stay on track so I can get to work on time and go to sleep at a reasonable time.” He fumbles through the clear sheets in his binder, until he finds the pocket with his routines, neatly printed on cards. He’d spent a pleasant afternoon at a café with San once, drawing the small cartoons surrounding the borders while San worked on his novel.

Hongjoong lets out a soft ‘wow!’ when Seonghwa hands him two of the cards, one with his morning routine and one with his evening routine.

“These are so pretty! Did you draw them yourself?”

Seonghwa nods shyly. “Thank you, si…Hongjoong-ssi. With some of my previous doms…they’d check in on me by a certain time every morning and every evening and then I’d have to send them my checked lists. Obviously after I completed all the tasks. Otherwise I’d get a consequence.”

Hongjoong nods. “That sounds good! Did it work well for you in the past?”

“Yeah, very well.” Seonghwa shifts his feet under the table. “I know it’s quite a lot, so you could also just check me once a day or-”

“Don’t be silly.” Hongjoong cuts him off with a playful click of his tongue. He’s already noting down the details on the contract before him. “Mm…brushing teeth, eating breakfast, doing physio exercises, catching the train on time…how does 10AM sound for a morning check-in? You should be done with your routine by then, right?”

They agree on 10AM and 9PM as check-in times, with Seonghwa then having 30 minutes to reply in accordance with his rule.

“Are there…are there any rituals or routines that you’d like for us to have?” Seonghwa asks, when they’ve both finished writing.

“I see that you don’t wear a collar,” Hongjoong says. “Is it because you don’t have one, or because you prefer not to wear one?”

Anxiety immediately twists in Seonghwa’s chest. “I…” He coughs nervously. “I don’t…I don’t really do collars? I know it’s weird but it doesn’t work for me and I’m sorry if it’s something that’s important to you, I could probably try …”

He trails off, apprehension weighing down on him like a heavy, wet blanket. It is so fucking weird to not be able to wear a collar and it’s not that he can’t it’s just that the collars are always too stiff or too scratchy and even when they’re soft they seem to grow smaller and tighter the longer he wears them until it feels like he’s being choked and he can’t get it off because his dom has the key and he’s not allowed to take off his own collar even when he can’t think or feel or do anything but just sit and feel the edges of it digging into his skin.

“I do like collaring my subs,” Hongjoong says, gently. “But it’s not a huge issue for me. And I definitely don’t want to do it if it makes you tense up like this. Please don’t stress about it, Seonghwa-ssi. It’s okay. No collaring is perfectly fine for me.”

Seonghwa dares to lift his eyes to Hongjoong’s face, relieved to see that he doesn’t appear angry or even disappointed and weirded out. Instead, he just gives Seonghwa an easy grin, turning over the paper in front of him.

“We’ll add more rituals if we feel the need to,” Hongjoong says. “Once we’ve settled into our dynamic a little bit. Did you bring a list of your limits by any chance, Seonghwa-ssi?”

Seonghwa did, of course, and he produces a neat sheet of paper from another one of the pockets in his file. Hongjoong takes it from him, handing Seonghwa his own list.

Kim Hongjoong Hard Limits

• Blood

• Permanent injury

• Gags

• Degradation

• Choking

Kim Hongjoong Soft Limits

• Public humiliation

• Sexual acts and situations

• Biting

Seonghwa releases a small sigh that he didn’t even know he was holding in, when he reaches the ‘sexual acts and situations’ part. It is one of his own hard limits and while his doms have usually at least respected those, it didn’t prevent the awkward comments and conversations that it sometimes caused. The knowledge that he was disappointing them and frustrating them and being unfair to them by his inability to accept their dominance on a sexual level as well. It is a massive relief then, that Kim Hongjoong is apparently also not overly eager for sex.

“You have a very detailed list of limits, Seonghwa-ssi.” Hongjoong gives him an approving nod. “I like it, I can see you’ve done your research.”

It feels a little awkward to explain just how hands-on some of that research was, so Seonghwa just nods and bows slightly to accept the compliment.

He pastes in Hongjoong’s list of limits, adding his own sheet in the provided column on the contract page as well.

Hongjoong reads the words written at the bottom of the page out loud. “The dominant agrees to honour and respect the submissive’s limits absolutely. The submissive agrees to honour and respect the dominant’s limits absolutely. Should either party cross the limits of the other, it would constitute grounds for immediate termination of the contract.”

Seonghwa nods seriously. He’d never try to cross Hongjoong’s boundaries, so luckily that wouldn’t be a reason for Hongjoong to decide to leave.

At the bottom of the page is the section on safewords, which they also promptly fill out, choosing to go with the classic stoplight system.

“Would you like to have another safeword as well?” Hongjoong asks. “It’s always good to have another word that you can easily think of, in case you’re in a very stressful mindset and can’t remember the system immediately.”

And Seonghwa knows exactly how that feels, his mind jumping in an almost nauseating manner to being over the couch in his own flat, leather whistling down onto bare skin, sobbing hysterically into the pillows while his stupid fucking brain tries to remember the names of colours. Toddlers know the fucking names of colours, he should fucking-

Digging his one heel sharply into his shin, Seonghwa brings himself back to the present.

“Yeah, maybe we should,” he says. “If you want?”

“I always think it’s a good idea,” Hongjoong is giving him one of his gentle smiles again. “Mine is piano . I’ve had it ever since I got my designation, so it’s easy for me to remember. What about yours?”

“ Bunny ,” Seonghwa says, without hesitation. “Bunnies are my favourite animals, so it will also be easy for me to remember.”

HJ POV

Seonghwa seems to be getting a little tired, as they painstakingly go through every page of the contract, filling in the necessary details. Hongjoong can see it in the way his hands start to fiddle a little with the edges of the pages, the way his shoes start creaking under the table as he wobbles his legs from side to side. Fidgeting, not from nervousness or boredom is Hongjoong’s guess, but more as a way to keep himself centered.

“Only three sections left,” Hongjoong says brightly. “Four, technically, but we’ll just be writing ‘n/a’ under the collaring bit, so I think we can say three.”

Seonghwa nods, giving him a polite smile.

“How often do you prefer to space?” Hongjoong asks.

Seonghwa considers a moment, playing with the top corner of the page. He stills his hand after a moment, a brief look of irritation crossing his face. “Once a week is usually enough for me.”

“I think that’s a good place to start. Are there any specific ways you prefer to be put into subspace?”

A light blush tints Seonghwa’s cheeks again.

“All the usual stuff works for me, I guess. Kneeling, massaging, praise, that sort of thing. A bit of restraint or like…having to keep a certain posture.” He hesitates, the blush deepening just a little. “Usually soft stuff is enough for me. But sometimes…sometimes I need more. Like corner time or scolding or getting my ear pinched or…impact play.”

“Spanking?” Hongjoong asks, mostly to see if it will make Seonghwa blush even more. Which it does. Hongjoong can barely keep the endeared smile off his face as he notes down what the sub has just said. “Soft with a bit of sterness now and then sounds perfect to me, Seonghwa-ssi. We’ll revisit this before our first scene, however, so that we can decide exactly what we’ll do and try for that specific scene. But we’ll organise that later.”

Seonghwa nods, just a tiny gleam of eagerness making its way into his eyes. It doesn’t leave, Hongjoong notices, when they move on to the next section on discipline.

“We’ve already discussed your rules,” Hongjoong says. “Now it’s time to discuss what happens when you break those rules. You don’t have to write all of this down, I have it typed up here so we can just talk through it.” Seonghwa takes the sheet that Hongjoong hands over to him, glancing at it while Hongjoong continues speaking. “The first thing that will always happen is that we will have a discussion. This is where we’ll make sure that we’re both on the same page as to what rule you broke, why you did it and exactly how you will be disciplined for your transgression. You will always be welcome to ask questions during our discussion and to explain your side of the situation. Once the discussion is finished, we will move on to the chastisement. Are you following me okay thus far?”

“Yes, si…sorry, Hongjoong-ssi.”

Hongjoong gives him a quick grin. “No need to apologise. I can imagine that you’re very much in the habit of calling your dom sir, so you’re doing great actually. For punishment, I like to make use of various methods. Corner time, writing lines, apology letters or essays, kneeling, grounding, early bedtime, extra chores…and of course corporal punishment. I don’t really prefer to attach a certain punishment to a certain rule, because I’ve found that discipline sometimes needs to adjust to the situation in order to be fair. Those adjustments will be up to me. I will decide, in any given situation, what punishment you’ve earned. It will always be fair, though strict. Would that be satisfactory for you? Or would you prefer if we attach specific punishments to specific rules?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “No…I think it’s better if you decide. I know…I know the rules, and I know what punishments I can expect if I break them. All the ones you’ve mentioned sound okay to me, so I don’t mind if it’s up to you to choose from any of them. I expect…I expect you’d sort of decide the severity of the punishment depending on how badly I broke the rules?”

Hongjoong nods. “Exactly.”

Seonghwa gives him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

“Great,” Hongjoong returns the smile broadly. “Other than canes, are there any implements that you’re wary of? Or implements that you particularly like when it comes to spanking?”

Seonghwa considers a moment before he shakes his head. “No, not really. I’m okay with most implements. Hand, hairbrush, spoon, paddle, belt, switch, they’re all okay for me.”

“And anything you like?” Hongjoong presses gently. He’s not surprised to see the slight flush returning to Seonghwa’s cheeks. The sub looks down, playing with the edge of his stack of papers again.

“I guess…I guess I like hand spankings. And I have a slight thing for belts, for worse punishments.”

Hongjoong nods sagely, noting it down. “I also like belts, so that would work great. Now, after discipline there of course comes lots of comfort and aftercare. Should we move on to that section now? I think it’s pretty much our last one to fill out.”

There is a checklist of department recommended aftercare activities, which makes it fairly easy to go through. Seonghwa shows a clear preference for hugs and cuddling, coupled with words of affirmation, something sweet to eat and taking a nap. At Hongjoong’s request, they add reading aloud, watching a movie together, going for a walk or drive in nature and taking a warm bath.

Seonghwa’s eyelids are decidedly droopy by the time they reach the last page, where the stipulations for altering the contract as well as the lines where they have to sign are.

Hongjoong looks over at Seonghwa, grateful when the sub meets his eyes steadily.

“Ready to sign, Seonghwa-ssi? To be my sub for the next six months?”

Seonghwa watches him a moment more, dark, serious eyes searching over Hongjoong’s face.

“Yes,” he says then, putting his pen to the paper.