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There's a very mild impatient, anxious itch under Minho's skin as he stands at the foot of the bed, hands folded politely in front of him. He feels a comforting mixture of shame and anticipation as he waits for his partner to finally join him.
He's been acting out on purpose lately, and after a lengthy conversation about his behavior that included a lot of reassurance and reiterations about how clear and direct communication is essential, they decided to have one of their special nights.
One that was just as much a reassurance of their bond as it was a punishment.
“Lay on your back, baby,” Jisung directs, tenderly petting through Minho’s slightly damp hair before guiding him back onto the crisp sheets. He is both gentle and intimidating in the best of ways.
Jisung had instructed him to not bother putting any clothes on, so when he settles onto the mattress with a halo of soft brown hair falling around his face, he really looks beautiful enough to put Greek statues to shame. All soft skin and sharp angles in perfect contrast.
Minho looks incredible like this, ethereal even, big doe eyes glossy and cheeks dusted pink from the heat of his previous shower. His skin is still a little moist too, making Jisung's palm stick to him when he rubs it across the smooth, plush expanse of his stomach.
He pinches the pudge there and hums appreciatively, taking his time to trace his fingers from his belly button, up to his ribs, over his clavicle, until he can cup his rosy cheek.
The way Minho leans into his touch never fails to make his heart flutter. He looks a little sad when Jisung moves away, but quickly softens when he tsks at him and whispers the word, "patience."
His little hands tremble slightly when Jisung presents the hairbrush, about seven inches long, wooden and oval and stained a beautiful dark umber. It feels expensive even though Jisung’s had it as a hand-me-down for pretty much ever.
They've tried several over the years, but this one is by far their favorite to use together.
Minho exhales shakily, but instantly lifts both knees to his chest, putting himself on perfect display for the man above him.
He knows the routine all too well.
The anxious itch has turned into a pleasant thrum, vibrating just below his skin and making him warm all over, in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of his shower.
“You’re such a pretty little thing,” Jisung smiles down at him, voice low as he rubs the smooth back side of the brush over the back of Minho’s sculpted thighs. He is both full of definition from years of hard work and planes of soft, supple skin.
Jisung loves both of these aspects.
He moves the brush across his balls and down his perineum and Minho tenses. Even though he knows realistically that he won't hit him there without explicit permission, it still makes his knees close in just a little, just out of pure protective instinct. He relaxes when Jisung ends up just rubbing more firm circles against his ass.
Jisung’s voice hardens, “It’s too bad you’re such a fucking brat.”
Minho inhales sharply, closing his thighs together as Jisung grabs both of his ankles and pushes his legs up higher, exposing more of his bare behind.
He’s standing off to the side of the bed for easier access, but he looks so incredibly imposing like this– brows set and focused, bicep bulging from the action.
Minho gets chills from having to look up at him.
Jisung takes a moment to make sure Minho’s dick is safely hidden, tucked away behind his thighs before giving him the first strike, right to the back of his right thigh. There's no warning, though Minho expects it nonetheless.
The impact draws a strained gasp from him, eyes squeezing shut.
“Keep your eyes open,” Jisung growls, landing another harsh strike, this time on his left thigh.
“Sorry,” Minho apologizes immediately, voice small as he forces his eyes open, chewing on his lower lip. Jisung looks at him with approval.
The next several hits come in quick succession, all hitting roughly the same spot on one of his cheeks. Minho whines quietly as Jisung drops the brush and smooths his palm across the reddening skin instead. He tries to not be too loud, knowing how much Jisung admires when he takes his punishments with no complaints.
The relief doesn’t last long though, as Jisung picks the brush back up and hits at his sit spot, alternating from left to right as he watches the skin turn puffy.
Minho can already feel the familiar ache, the kind of ache that goes much deeper than the stinging of his skin. Each strike is harder than the last, the wood hitting the already sore areas hurting even worse than before.
Tears spring to his eyes, but he tries to blink them away. He knows he deserves this.
He needs this.
“Does it hurt, love?” Jisung asks after a particularly painful hit that has Minho whimpering out loud, unrestrained and pretty. He smiles fondly despite the noise.
Minho nods, hands threatening to slip from where he’s holding his knee pits. He already feels floaty, so he's glad Jisung at least hasn't made him count today. He isn't sure he could handle it.
He thinks Jisung knows this as well. Jisung knows all his tells and always gives him exactly what he needs without pushing it past his limits. And today he needs the pain of punishment but without all the cruelness.
He just needs a reminder.
Jisung bounces the brush against the swell of his ass gently, drumming away and watching Minho’s face contort in pain. He’s so beautiful.
“Almost done, okay? Think you can handle a few more?” Jisung asks, petting up his leg and pushing his boy's hair off his forehead.
He would usually draw this out much longer, go until he saw the beginning of bruises blossoming across his lover's gorgeous golden skin, but he knows that it is not needed right now. For either of them.
Tonight is mostly for Minho.
Minho nods, bottom lip bitten bright pink, “Yes, please.” He adds the plea as an afterthought, but it makes Jisung smirk.
His boy has such lovely manners.
“Good boy,” Jisung smacks several more times, really putting a good swing into them to end off the session with a bang, so to say. Each of them land with a loud smack, accompanied by small grunts.
The last hit comes and Minho finally releases the sob he’s been holding in for so long. It isn’t too loud and it doesn’t sound miserable or anything, but it feels good to let out some kind of noise as Jisung rolls him onto his stomach and starts to rub gentle circles into his abused skin with his bare palms.
He can already tell that the lotion he will apply later will burn as well.
It hurts, but it’s the most comforting feeling Minho has ever experienced. It always is.
It was exactly what he needed.
“Thank you,” Minho says, voice muffled slightly by the pillow he has shoved his face into. "I love you."
“It’s my pleasure, darling." Jisung leans over to kiss his jaw. "I love you too, very much."