Chapter Text
“Rent a Sub. That's what you need.”
“Rent a what?” Taeyong asked. “A sandwich?”
Yuta rolled his eyes.
“A sub. As in Dominant and submissive.”
Taeyong was left gaping. Then he chuckled.
“That's your solution for my ass getting dumped?”
“Yes.” Yuta grinned with conviction and took a sip of his beer.
Taeyong laughed some more and sighed, deep enough to release some of the pain he’d been carrying since his boyfriend left him for the affair partner. Like the good friend he was, Yuta came to spend a night at Taeyong's awfully empty apartment — now that half of what made it whole was gone. They sat on the living room couch under low lights and pretended to watch the movie.
“I'm not into pain,” Taeyong said, “inflicting or giving.”
Yuta rolled his eyes again, this time smiling. “Dominant and submissive relationships don't necessarily involve that. It's about what the two people want. And in this case, what you want.”
That piqued his interest.
“What I want?”
“Yes. You fill a form. They match it with a D/s couple that fits what you want and what they want. You meet in the dungeon for a chat and see if you want to try each other out.”
“Try each other out,” Taeyong repeated softly.
Yuta nodded. “You should give it a shot. Have some fun. And if you hate it, you can just stop. No strings attached.”
“Did you do it?”
“Of course I did!” he laughed.
Taeyong hummed and rubbed the condensation over the glass beer bottle.
“I'll send you the link to the website,” Yuta said, “give it a thought.”
He sent the link right then, but Taeyong only checked it later, when he was sitting on his side of the bed against soft linen sheets.
It had a simple black interface with white letters and red accents; an about, contact information, and form sections. Even though it's late, he wasn't tired enough to give in to sleep. He stared at the form, reading the questions: sexual orientation, previous experiences, preferences, soft limits, hard limits… He wouldn't even know what to put in those.
Taeyong nibbled his lip, lingering eyes on the website.
“That’s crazy.” He shut the laptop and put it aside, in his ex’s spot.
He took off his glasses, left them on the nightstand, and turned off the light.
The mornings were the hardest. Taeyong loved making breakfast for his ex. Now, he struggled with the portions and always had too many leftovers. Damn, he was pathetic indeed. Breakfast had been their thing before Blue would leave for Wall Street in those crisp suits of his. Stanford graduate, fancy finance job. Meanwhile, Taeyong worked from home. Designer. A lot of his income was passive at this point. He was comfortable enough to pursue his other hobbies: making music, cleaning the house, running, baking, and cooking.
He should have known it wasn’t going to last. They were so different. Blue was career-driven, adventurous, younger — always going out with his work buddies for drinks and work talk. Not much work talk was done, he bet. And Taeyong was a homebody who was learning how to knit and crochet.
He snorted a laugh before taking another sip of bitter coffee. Yuta was crazy suggesting that website. Him? Renting a sub? What an insane idea. And yet… mornings were the hardest. You’d think it was nights, but no — for Taeyong, it’s mornings. At night, he was usually so tired he passed out.
He hadn’t had sex in months. He couldn’t even jerk off satisfyingly, so he’d given up. Did his ex fucking castrate him? Beyond cheating. That couldn’t be Taeyong’s end. He had just turned thirty-one; he was not old enough to give up. He wanted… He should fuck someone. Just to feel something. Something other than what mornings felt like now.
And the Rent a Sub deal was… easy. Easier than Grindr or going to a bar. Taeyong had never liked using dating apps to hook up; it was weird to invite a stranger home or go to a stranger’s home. With Rent a Sub, he would meet the D/s couple at the dungeon. It’s safer and straightforward. Plus, Yuta vouched for it. He wouldn’t recommend it unless it was safe.
Taeyong got up, leaving his too many pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon behind on the dining table. He grabbed his laptop and sat on the bed. After the passcode, he found the website was still open in the form section. His fingers hesitated before typing out his contact information at the start. He answered the questions as best he could, using his own words, noting he was totally inexperienced in BDSM.
Then, he pressed send.
He got a tingle in his stomach. He set the laptop aside, going back to put the food in the fridge.
The email with a reply came two days later. It was an invitation: he had already been matched and could meet the couple, if he chose to move forward with it. As requested, he sent the times he was available and waited, barely believing this was happening. It didn’t feel real. He hadn’t told Yuta yet. He wanted to wait and see if he was actually moving forward with the experience before getting the friend’s hopes up.
His own hopes were getting up. He was… excited. He couldn’t pinpoint what excited him. Maybe it was just moving on, trying something new. Even if he didn’t go through with it, he felt better already. And he deserved to feel better.
The second reply came, confirming the time. The meet-up would happen at the dungeon next Thursday night. To ensure the participants’ privacy, they wouldn’t get each other’s names until they met face to face. Taeyong went from casual disbelief about the whole thing to utter excitement. He was so curious to see the dungeon and meet the couple, who, by the way, somehow had accepted his awkward newbie application. They wanted him? Why? Taeyong needed to find out.
He got dolled up to go out on Thursday night. Pushed his jet-black hair back with pomade. Applied his favorite perfume. Put on nice clothes, some brand pieces. By nine, he was pulling at the dungeon. An inconspicuous black hole, like many in the city. Jittery, he entered the reception. A woman in a black velvet dress and tight corset welcomed him with a smile. He gave his ID, and she told him to wait. He did. His stomach was doing somersaults.
“I'll take you to your room,” the receptionist said. “Follow me.”
Taeyong sprang to his feet and went down an ample hallway. The walls had dark red stained wood panels. He passed many doors and heard no sound. Did he expect otherwise? For a dungeon to be brimming with lust and pain sounds. But it wasn't.
The receptionist stopped and waved at the nearest door.
“They are waiting for you. Go in when you're ready.”
With a smile, she left him. And Taeyong faced the door, short of breath. But he steadied and went in. He didn't find anyone at first. The interior of the room surprised him. It was nothing like he expected. More of a hotel suite layout: queen bed, sofa, armchair, private bathroom; the walls were painted cream; the sheets were white and crisp.
As Taeyong turned his head, he finally saw someone. Coming out of the bathroom, a tall, handsome man. He wore a white tank top, tight on his large torso, and black tailored pants. Socks and no shoes. Should Taeyong remove his?
The man smiled, coming at him. He offered his hand.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Yugyeom. The Dom.”
Taeyong's head was really empty for a second too long. Then he shook Yugyeom’s hand, “Nice to meet you. I'm Taeyong.”
“Korean-American?”
“Korean-American.”
They had a moment of shared laughter. That's when a hand slipped over Yugyeom's shoulder. The Dom shifted, revealing the submissive. Taeyong parted his mouth as a name got stuck in his throat. Because he knew who the submissive was.
“And this is…”
Ten?