Fandom: EXO (AU, !fucktoy)
Pairing: Suho/Chen, Kris/Tao
Word count: 5,386
Summary: Suho had picked Chen up from one of the lesser known dealers down on the south side.
Warnings: BDSM, D/s, dubcon, minor spanking. This is basically kinkfic, an AU with master/slave relationships. If this upsets or triggers you in any way, please do not read.
A/N: i'm trying to kill you all with porn mUAHAHAHA. this and the lukai fic basically set up the au. imagine suho in a old style army uniform yum.
Suho had picked Chen up from one of the lesser known dealers down on the south side. Suho didn’t know anyone who had picked up their toy from a dealer like that, mostly because you could never guarantee the quality of a toy sold by such shady establishments, but the nature of the dealer had mattered a lot less than getting the toy that he’d wanted.
Chen had belonged previously to one of the soldiers in Suho’s company. The man had brought him to a party once, his hand tight around the leash attached to the basic model collar around his toy’s neck. It had been generally agreed that Chen had been one of the most badly behaved toys anyone had ever laid eyes on, speaking out of turn and disobeying his master at every opportunity. The man had sold Chen on the next week, claiming that he was untameable, and everyone had tittered about how he hadn’t even been able to break a toy in.
Suho had traced Chen to the dealer a couple of weeks later, and found him skinny, dirty, and behaving even worse than before. Suho had haggled for half an hour over the price and managed to get Chen for an eighth of the price he knew Kris had paid for Tao. On the ride home, Chen had sat silently opposite, his eyes on the floor, his hair matted to his head, clothes threadbare and hanging off his body. Suho had sent him off for a bath once home, arranged for clothing and food to be delivered to the room he’d designated for Chen, and congratulated himself on a bargain.
He had quickly come to realise that perhaps it hadn’t been such a bargain after all.
“He’s out of control,” Kris said bluntly. He poured a tiny jug of syrup into his coffee and stirred it slowly so that the spoon didn’t hit against the side of the china and disturb the quiet chatter going on around them. The restaurant that Kris had chosen for this luncheon — Suho rather felt Kris was viewing it more like an intervention — was in the northern side of the city, and the richness of the surroundings pointed to the nice location. The walls were covered with golden drapes, the engravings in the chairs inlaid with gold leaf; even the cushions that the toys sat on were soft and plush, heavily embroidered. Tao sat silently on the ground by Kris’s side, resting his head against the arm of Kris’s chair, eyes fixed on some point under the table. “If you don’t do something about it, you’re going to be a laughing stock before long.”
Suho sighed, tipping two cubes of sugar into his tea. “I know.” He’d seen the looks he’d been getting recently. Chen had actually snapped at one of the captains in Suho’s company with his teeth the other day, like some sort of wild animal. It was getting to be an embarrassment. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried rewarding his good behaviour and punishing his bad. I tried being stern and — and it didn’t work.” Chen had laughed right in his face, but Kris didn’t need to know that. It was bad enough that everyone knew Chen was acting wild, they didn’t need to know that he was actively defying Suho.
“Hmmm.” Kris sipped his coffee and then let his hand fall into Tao’s hair, carding through the strands almost absently. Tao leaned into the touch, eyes closing, lips parting slightly in a show of pleasure. When Kris’s hand moved down the side of his face and his fingers brushed against the side of Tao’s throat, the hitch of Tao’s breath was visible in the rise and fall of his chest. It made Suho uncomfortable, only because some tiny part of him recognised that he’d never yet made Chen react to his touch like that, and it seemed increasingly likely that he never would. Apparently oblivious to it all, Kris said, “Maybe you should send him to a trainer.”
Suho shuddered. He’d seen one of those trainers at work, and he didn’t think anyone would have wanted to buy the toy afterwards, not with the whip marks that must have covered their back for the rest of their life. “I hate those people. Their methods — I want Chen in one piece.”
“Some of them are better than others,” Kris argued. “Not all of the ones who deal with the older toys are cruel. The man who trained Baekhyun — he deals with the older ones too, and they don’t come better than Baekhyun.”
Suho raised an eyebrow, sipping at his tea to cover his surprise. They really didn’t come better than Baekhyun; he was considered one of the most enviable toys, tiny, pretty, and obedient, almost to a fault. The year he’d gone on the market he’d had an initial price tag that had been almost as high as Luhan’s, and everyone had agreed that the amount of money Chanyeol paid for him had been nothing short of obscene — though being the youngest son of the emperor had given Chanyeol more money than sense in this sort of thing.
“You should think about it,” Kris said. His hands were still stroking through Tao’s hair, and Tao was practically purring. “I can get you his business card. It’ll be expensive, especially since Chen’s not originally of the same calibre of the toys they normally get, but it would be worth it.”
Suho thought about sending Chen to one those people, even someone like Kris was suggesting, someone who would break Chen for him and then retrain him until he was willing and desperate to please. Until Chen was transformed into someone like Baekhyun, whose every thought had been moulded to pleasing his master. If Suho had wanted someone like that, he’d have shelled enough money for him. Suho liked the spark in Chen, the life in him that hadn’t been extinguished by extensive training. It was the bad behaviour that he didn’t like.
“No,” he said quietly, as Kris’s hand slipped down the side of Tao’s face, his finger pressing against Tao’s mouth so that it fell open and Tao sucked on the finger. “It’s okay.”
Suho met Kris at the front door where normally a servant would greet him, taking his coat and hanging it up for him, thanking him for coming out to the eastern outskirts to talk to him. Suho’s home was a villa on the more modest side, near enough to the army camp that he could attend to matters more easily, and he was aware that it was somewhat out of the way for Kris, whose ambassadorial mansion was in the northern section of the city, surrounded on either side by the houses of people related in some way to the royal family. Suho always wondered what Kris thought of Suho’s house, but he never showed anything on his face whenever he came.
The room Suho led Kris into was the only drawing room his villa boasted, a large, spacious room that had been redecorated just last year, according to current tastes and fashions. The walls had been painted a soft lavender, the furnishings light wood gilded in gold, the plush armchairs upholstered in a deep purple. Suho kept incense burning in the corner, wisps of smoke drifting into the air, filling the room with the smell of vanilla and rosewood. Suho had been working in here before Kris had arrived, and Chen was sitting in the corner on a cushion, his legs folded underneath him, a book open on his lap. “He can read?” Kris asked, pulling his leather riding gloves from his hands and laying them on the table.
“Yes,” Chen said, without looking up, turning a page in his book, “he can read.”
“Chen,” said Suho warningly, as one of Kris’s eyebrows rose, the rest of his face blank. Chen sighed and settled his back against the wall, apparently content to ignore them. Suho didn’t care about that, so long as he wasn’t showing Suho up. He was suddenly very glad that he’d left Chen behind when he’d met Kris at the restaurant three days earlier. Taking Chen out in public guaranteed nothing but embarrassment right now.
Kris, however, ignored the interruption smoothly and settled into his chair, pulling papers from his bag and quickly settling down to business. Kris had been sent from a country across the sea, one of their closest allies, a huge landmass whose men were nonetheless not as well trained at the men in the army that Suho controlled most of. Their business that day involved the integration of their men, Kris’s leaders wishing to send some of their own men across the sea in order to be trained with Suho’s men. Working out terms was a difficult balancing act between his own trust in Kris, and his mistrust of sharing his training techniques with people from outside of his own land.
The discussion took a good hour, and by the time they were finished Suho got the feeling that both of them were at least satisfied with what had been arranged, which Suho considered a rousing success. Pleased, he called a servant and ordered for tea to be served. “It’s from the east,” he said, as it was poured. “Flavoured with spices. It was a present from a general who visited a short while ago. Chen!”
Chen’s head lifted. “What?” he asked sullenly.
“Come here,” Suho told him. A pause, and then Chen closed his book, lay it aside, and climbed to his feet.
“Crawl,” Kris said. Chen ignored him without even glancing at him, walking over to the table and kneeling by the side of it. Suho sighed, aware that he was probably pink across the nose. Kris’s expression remained unreadable, which was probably more embarrassing.
It was too late now, though. “You may have some tea,” Suho said. “It’s delicious, you should be grateful.”
“Thank you,” Chen drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Kris sipped his tea, lay it back down on the table, and leaned forward in his chair. “You don’t talk to your master like that,” he said, like he was lecturing a particularly wayward child.
Chen’s head snapped around to glare at him. “You don’t talk to me like that,” he said rudely. “You’re not my master.” He turned his head to the tea, nose in the air.
Without a break in his facial expression, or a single word, Kris shot out his hand, snagged the back of Chen’s collar, and yanked, so that Chen’s body arched, throat bared, his legs trapped under the table the only thing keeping him from losing his balance. “A toy doesn’t talk to anyone like that,” Kris said, voice level.
Chen was silent, his mouth hanging open, his eyes half-lidded. Something about the way his hands were scrambling at the table left Suho’s mouth perfectly dry; something about the sudden show of submission at Kris’s hand left a slow burn of anger in Suho’s stomach. It wasn’t right.
Kris let go. Chen’s head fell forward, face twisting in anger, although he, rather wisely, kept his mouth shut. Kris stood, gathering his things, his tea half finished. “I’m sorry, Suho,” he said, a hint of actual regret in his voice. “I know it wasn’t my place. But my offer from last time, to get you the name of a trainer — that still stands.”
“Thank you,” Suho said faintly.
“I’ll see myself out,” Kris said, bowed his head to him, and then left the room. Suho stared at the tea he had left behind, the anger still bubbling in his stomach.
Chen shifted, knocking the table with his knee. “I don’t like him,” he announced.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Suho said, his teeth gritted. He looked across at him and found Chen smirking at him, smug and un-cowed. “Get out of my sight.” He pointed at the door, and Chen raised an eyebrow, but he stood and walked out of the room quietly, his robes rustling with each movement. Suho groaned, the anger giving way to shame, and dropped his head into his hands.
He thought long and hard about it, though, about the look on Chen’s face as Kris forced his body to bend for him. Each time brought the anger back to him, directed not at Kris for the inappropriate touching of someone else’s property, but at Chen, for submitting to someone other than Suho. He stewed in his anger all day, even when he was called away to the camp to deal with a fight that had broken out between some of the men. When he eventually sent a message back to his home with instructions for Chen to be waiting for him when he finished, he found that he didn’t actually know what he was going to do with Chen that night. The thought of Chen merely left him burning with feelings of anger and lust and shame. Put together, it left him oddly excited.
Just like he’d asked, Chen was already in his bedroom when Suho slipped inside, sitting in the centre of the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. He’d been dressed that day in a robe of dark green silk, but the material was sliding off one of his shoulders haphazardly, and Suho reflected once again that Chen just didn’t seem to suit the kind of clothing that the toys traditionally wore. They were too flimsy, too easily brought into disarray; such easily ruffled poise no doubt added to the appeal of toys like Luhan or Baekhyun, but since Chen wasn’t going for tricks like that, it merely made him seem messy.
Suho shucked his clothing until he was dressed in his undershirt and pants, propping his boots by the side of the wardrobe. “You look better in your uniform,” Chen said, a mild tone of mockery in his voice. “Makes you look like a real man.”
Suho ignored the jab, ignored Chen completely. He moved around the room and completed his routine like Chen wasn’t even there, washing his face in the basin of water a servant had left for him, cleaning his teeth, drawing the curtains across the window. By the time he turned towards the bed, Chen had a scowl on his face, one that he didn’t even try to wipe off. Suho could almost sense the reprove on his tongue; if you’re going to fuck me, at least fuck me sooner rather than later.
Despite everything, Suho still asked. “Can I—”
“Yes,” Chen interrupted, sighing and rolling his eyes. Suho had always considered it so strange, how Chen’s answer never changed. If he said no, Suho would simply remove him from the room and wait until the next time. He wasn’t interested in an unwilling bed partner, which was part of the reason when he’d gone looking for Chen in the first place. The trained toys, they were too willing to lay on their backs and let their masters do whatever they wished. The implicit consent with those toys left Suho feeling uncomfortable.
He’d expected something more with Chen, and while Chen had, to this point, always seemed happy with what they did together, had bucked and writhed and come in heated spurts, there’d always been a sense that he did this for Suho. That for all his mockery and his sharp comments, he’d acknowledged on a certain level that he was a toy, and that Suho was his master, and so he let Suho fuck him for that reason alone. Each time he realised it made Suho feel increasingly dirty.
Chen arranged himself on the bed, limbs spread, looking like some sort of common whore. “Stop that,” Suho said, by the edge of the bed. “Sit up.”
Chen actually obeyed, though the raised eyebrow suggested it was merely out of surprise. Suho’s voice had been cold and hard, the voice he used when one of his men was out of line. He hadn’t used it with Chen at all up to now. “What?” Chen’s voice was low, almost a purr, an edge of steel in it. “I thought you wanted to fuck me.”
“Don’t talk to me that way,” Suho snapped, his own voice pure steel, tempered in ice. Chen merely looked amused.
“I thought you wanted me submissive and trembling from the might of your glory,” Chen continued, “I’ll lay there while you fuck me and that will make you happy.”
The next instant Suho was on the bed, his hand fisted in Chen’s hair, yanking his head back so that Chen yelped in pain, jaw jutting up. “I said,” Suho said, his voice still cold, but lower now, his knee carefully spreading Chen’s thighs apart, “don’t talk to me that way.”
Chen tried to writhe away but Suho kept him pinned, Chen barely even able to move. When he fell still, he was breathing heavily, his face flushed, clothing hanging half off him. Suho gave an experimental tug on his hair, and Chen whimpered. “Do you understand me?” he asked, his free hand pulling Chen’s robes apart completely. He tugged on his hair again when Chen was silent, and this time there was no doubting that the whimper had very little to do with pain. “Answer me. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.” Chen’s tone was begrudging, like it pained him to acknowledge Suho’s power over him.
The rush of power was exhilarating. Suho smiled a little, then smiled harder when he reached his hand between Chen’s legs and found his cock half hard. He stroked slowly, watching the flush on Chen’s face spread down his throat and chest. “Are you going to talk to me like that again?” Suho asked. He sounded almost conversational, even as his hand tightened in Chen’s hair in warning.
“No,” Chen sighed, and this time his voice was breathless.
“For some reason, I don’t really believe you,” Suho muttered. He kissed Chen shortly, a brief press of lips to Chen’s open mouth. His hand still moved between Chen’s legs, his cock hardening in no time in Suho’s hand. It had never been this easy before. “Chen,” he said, into Chen’s ear, loosening his hold on Chen’s hair so he could play idly with the strands. “Who am I?”
It took Chen a few moments to answer. “Suho.”
Suho’s hand tightened again, yanking so hard he felt some of the hair give. Chen yelped, and his cock twitched in Suho’s hand. “Try again.”
“Lord Suho,” Chen gasped, “you’re Lord Suho—”
“And I am your…?” Suho nuzzled at Chen’s jaw, the softness of his mouth at odds with the tight hold he had in Chen’s hair. Chen didn’t answer, his mouth pressed shut, eyes confused and glazed but ultimately defiant.
Suho sighed and shifted, reaching over Chen’s body for the multiple bottles of lube that he kept on his bedside table, each one of them a different brand and flavour, each of them expensive and kept in a fancy pots which made no secret of the contents. Stretching like that brought Suho’s crotch directly over Chen’s face, and he had expected Chen to react to that, but there was nothing, Chen stayed still and silent. Suho took his time choosing, eventually settling on one that he rarely used because it was so expensive, and when he moved back Chen’s eyes were shut, his face flushed, and his breathing laboured.
“What do you want me to do?” Suho asked, unscrewing the lid on the lube, Chen’s eyes tracking the movements. For someone usually so quick with his snappy remarks, Chen was remarkably slow with his words today.
“What I want isn’t important, is it?” he said eventually, after Suho had slicked up his fingers.
“You seem to want this,” Suho pointed out, choosing to overlook that particular bit of insolence. “Do you like it when I hurt you? When I tug on your hair? What is it that you want?” When no answer was forthcoming, he slid his knee back between Chen’s thighs, murmuring, “Open your legs.”
Suho expected there to be a fight, expected Chen to fight him all the way, but it seemed like Chen simply couldn’t find it in himself to defy the direct order, his legs spreading easily, his hips lifting off the bed as Suho slid two fingers into him. “Do you like this?” he asked. When there was continued silence, he gripped Chen’s jaw between his fingers, pressing harshly, tipping his head back until it must have been painful. “Answer me.”
“Yes, yes,” Chen gasped out, and Suho rewarded him with another finger pressed inside of him suddenly, sending Chen’s hands scrambling against the bed sheets. Suho worked him slowly with his fingers, working him open, until Chen was writhing and bucking, his cock leaking against his stomach. Suho was pleased to see that he was trained enough to not reach to touch himself.
“If you tell me what you want, I’ll give you it,” Suho told him, crooking his fingers as he moved them in and out of Chen’s body. “If you want,” he said, remembering the flush on Chen’s skin earlier, “I’ll let you suck my cock.” Chen’s entire body shivered, lips pressed together so tightly they were white. “But not right now, later on, after I’ve fucked you open, after every part of you screams for release. I’ll grab you by the hair — like this,” he demonstrated, right at the back of Chen’s skull, fingers pulling at the sensitive hairs at the top of Chen’s neck, and Chen whined, legs flexing as his hips jerked up off the bed. “I’ll grab your hair and fuck your mouth until you’re gagging, until your jaw aches and your entire body trembles and your cock is so hard you think you might pass out. Only then, only then will I touch you. Is that what you want?”
Chen’s lips moved silently, sweat glistening in the hollows of his collarbones, a rivulet running down his stomach. Between his legs was only slickness, Suho’s fingers moving in and out with ease now, faster and faster, Chen lifting his hips and then back down, trying to match the rhythm, trying to get some sort of purchase.
“Now,” Suho said, moving his hand out of Chen’s hair and down to play idly with one of his nipples, already hard. The noise Chen made was complete despair. “I am your…?”
“Master,” Chen sobbed, “my master, please, oh please—”
Satisfied with that, Suho slid his fingers out of him and rolled Chen gently onto his front. Chen immediately tried to rut into the mattress, and Suho lay a hand on his lower back, pressing down firmly. “Stop that,” he said, and when Chen ignored him, he yanked his head back again and hissed, “I said stop that.” Chen fell still.
Suho had picked up the leather ties on his way back from the army camp, stopping at a store who specialised in such things, choosing supple leather that would bruise but not cut, stretch but not give. He retrieved them now, while Chen pulled the pillow towards him and lay his head on it, his breathing broken and erratic. Suho smiled at that as he climbed back on the bed.
“Give me your hands,” he said, and after a brief pause, Chen did so, folding his arms behind his back without a word. Suho quickly tied his wrists together before he could struggle, thankful for his training in such things, the knot finished before Chen even seemed to realise what was happening. Chen pulled at the fastenings and then huffed out a breath when he couldn’t get out of them. Suho slid his hands around his hips and pulled them up until Chen was on his knees, thighs spread apart, his face still pressed to the pillow.
“So this is how you like me,” Chen said breathlessly, “tied up and unable to struggle.”
Suho hesitated for just a second before he brought his hand down in a stinging slap on Chen’s ass. The yelp that wrangled from Chen’s mouth was remarkably satisfying. “I thought you weren’t going to speak to me like that,” Suho said calmly, his fingers sliding down the cleft of Chen’s ass, brushing lightly against his balls. “Besides, don’t you want it this way too? If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask. I’ll fuck you, if you ask. It’s okay to ask.”
There was only silence, Chen’s breathing angry and ragged. Suho began to wonder if he could even wait for Chen to ask, his cock hard and straining against the material of his pants. But he had to wait, he had to do it only when Chen asked. While he waited, he undressed, pushing his clothes off the side of the bed and stroking his cock lightly, thumb spreading the pre-come. Chen watched him, and when Suho’s fingers disappeared between his thighs again, Chen’s entire body jerked.
“Just ask me,” Suho said coaxingly. Chen’s eyes had fluttered shut, his mouth hanging open, Suho’s fingers slow and steady, not enough to truly give satisfaction. “Just open your pretty mouth and tell me what you want.”
“F-fuck me,” Chen stuttered out, breath catching as Suho’s fingers bent inside him.
“You forgot a word,” Suho chided.
“Fuck me, please,” Chen said, voice hitching as the words tumbled out of him in a rush, “please, please just fuck me, fuck me like you said you would, please.”
Finally, Suho thought, light headed and on fire, pulling his fingers out and settling behind Chen quickly, sliding the head of his cock against the slickness before pushing in quickly. Even with the preparation, it was a tight fit, and Chen’s knees seemed to slide away from him, Suho righting him with his hands on his hips, helping him regain his balance. Suho paused, silence between them, the only noise the heavy breathing that they both shared, and then Suho rocked out, and in, and out again. Chen moaned as he did so, a long sound of pleasure and misery and desire.
Suho didn’t give him a chance to get used to it, quickly building up a fast rhythm, fucking Chen harder than he’d fucked him before, when he’d still wanted to treat Chen nicely, when he’d thought that the only way to get Chen to obey was to show him that he didn’t have to think Suho would hurt him. It was darkly thrilling, the way that hurting Chen, treating him roughly and fucking him face down into the mattress, was what was pulling those sounds from Chen’s mouth, the half cut off yelps and moans that only seemed to increase the harder Suho thrust into him.
Suho had his spare hand around Chen’s bound wrists, and in a moment of inspiration, he moved, hand sliding up to tangle in Chen’s hair, gripping and yanking hard, pulling Chen up until his back was arched and his chest thrust forward, Chen’s knees sliding apart a little further and Suho’s cock sliding in deeper. Chen screamed, raw and desperate, and Suho kept himself from coming by the skin of his teeth.
The scream eventually tapered off into gasping sobs, Chen’s breath audibly hitching with every snap of Suho’s hips. “Please,” he cried, pushing his hips back to try to catch Suho on every thrust, “please, touch me, I want you to touch me, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy—”
“Do you promise?” Suho grunted, letting go of Chen’s hair so he could fall forward back to the bed, cheek pressed to the pillow.
“Yes, I promise, I’ll be the best you’ve ever — oh god, please, please touch me, master, Lord, Suho, please—”
Suho didn’t. He let the sound of Chen’s voice wash over him, the begging driving him further on, harder and faster until he felt the pull in his groin and he came, deep inside Chen, gasping suddenly, his eyelids fluttering shut.
Chen was still brokenly sobbing out promises, more ridiculous now that Suho had come, like he thought that Suho was about to leave him like this, hard and aching. Suho pulled away and let Chen slump his body to the mattress, before he helped Chen onto his back, Chen’s arms caught beneath him. There were tear tracks down Chen’s face, a sheen of sweat over his body. His cock was hard and red, laying against his stomach. “Please,” Chen whimpered, his eyes half lidded, “please.”
Suho silenced him with a kiss, slow and languid, tongue slipping into Chen’s mouth without Chen putting up any resistance. His face was wet. “Shh,” Suho murmured, pulling away. “You’ve been good. I’m happy with you.”
Chen squeezed his eyes shut, his face the picture of hopelessness, only for them to shoot open again as Suho’s fingers wrapped around his cock. He keened and his hips thrust up but Suho went slow, gentle, giving Chen the touch that he craved and giving him the freedom to set his own pace. It was over in a matter of seconds, Chen coming with another scream, his whole body shuddering as he spilled over Suho’s hand.
Suho peppered his jaw with kisses, sucking below Chen’s ear, as he waited for Chen to regain his breath. Soon Chen was still, Suho’s hand resting against his hip, his head falling to the side willingly so Suho could kiss his mouth, long and hard until Chen was moaning again, shifting as he tried to get his hands out from underneath himself so he could touch Suho.
Murmuring soothingly under his breath, Suho helped him sit up and undid the ties, rubbing Chen’s wrists gently to ease the tension from him. Chen slumped, head hanging forward, hands gripping his ankles like he was physically holding himself back from something; perhaps it was from attacking Suho, perhaps it was simply to stop himself from fleeing. Suho kissed the top of his spine and Chen shivered.
“You’ve been good,” Suho repeated. “You can sleep here tonight.”
Chen’s head lifted slowly, twisting so he could stare at Suho, disbelief on his face. “Really?” he asked, voice full of suspicion.
Suho smiled and leaned their foreheads together. “Of course.” Chen let out a shaky little breath. He seemed like he truly couldn’t believe it. Considering his behaviour in the past, there was a good chance he’d never been allowed such an honour with any of his previous masters. Suho pulled away and began tugging his clothing back on, not even caring that he was getting them stained with come and sweat. They could always be replaced. “I’ll get someone to bring you some new clothing,” he said, as Chen sat in the middle of the bed blinking at him. “You don’t like the robes, do you? They make you uncomfortable.” After a second, Chen shook his head, and Suho nodded in response. “I’ll get something you’ll like. While I’m gone, you can wash. You’ll be clean by the time I get back, do you understand?”
He levelled a stare at Chen, who hesitated, as usual, before he murmured, “Yes.” Suho hid his smile as he stood up. He knew that there was no way Chen had been broken, but there was improvement here. He knew how to deal with his bad behaviour now, knew which way to tug, literally if needs be. He wasn’t, after all, expecting Chen to be perfect — he never could be, he hadn’t been trained for it — but he could be enough for Suho.
He paused at the doorway, watching as Chen padded to the basin of water on the side-unit. Chen lifted the sponge from the water and then paused, looking at Suho. “Are you—” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat and repeated himself. “Are you going to send me to a trainer?”
Something inside of Suho ached at the uncertainty and fear in his voice, even while the same part celebrated the same emotions. “No,” he said softly, “you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”