They Kidnapped the Wrong Boy, So He Stayed novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: On His Knees
Do-hyun kneels on his own to prove he belongs to no one, and afterward Woo-jin tells him he is not the thief and is not going home.
At ten to midnight on Friday, Do-hyun knelt on the white carpet in front of Gu Woo-jin by his own choice.
He had spent two days in this room.
He had eaten Beom-su's rice and pickled radish, slept twelve hours at a stretch, and counted the door handles he could not reach.
Now he looked up at the man in the leather chair, and his pulse knocked in his throat.
"You said I could ask for something," Do-hyun said.
"I said you could ask."
"Then I'm asking."
Woo-jin sat with his jacket off and one ankle on his knee, a tablet dark in his lap.
He set it aside.
The lamp threw a hard gold light along his cheekbone and the scar through his eyebrow.
"Go on."
"You think I belong to whoever keeps me," Do-hyun said. "Fine. I'll show you I don't belong to anyone."
"That's a strange way to begin."
"I'm not done."
He put his bandaged hand on Woo-jin's knee.
The fabric of the trousers was fine wool, and under it the muscle jumped.
"I'll do it because I want to. Not because you cut me and not because you fed me. Mine, my choice, my mouth."
For a moment Woo-jin said nothing at all.
His face stayed still, but his eyes had gone dark.
"There's one rule," Do-hyun said. "You don't touch my face."
"Noted."
"I mean it," Do-hyun said.
"I heard you. Hands off your face."
Do-hyun slid his hand up Woo-jin's thigh, over the belt, to the buckle.
His fingers were clumsy, and the finger with the bandage hurt, and he did not stop.
He unbuckled the belt and pulled it open.
He opened the button, drew down the zip, and heard Woo-jin's breath change.
Woo-jin was already hard.
His cock pushed up thick and dark against the black cotton, and a wet patch had spread near the tip.
Do-hyun looked at it and felt his own mouth go dry.
"Lift," he said.
Woo-jin lifted his hips.
Do-hyun dragged the trousers and the shorts down to his thighs.
The cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, curved up against the clean line of his stomach.
It was bigger than Do-hyun had expected, and he took a second to be afraid of it.
Then he wrapped both hands around it.
Woo-jin's head tipped back against the leather.
"Careful," he said. His voice had gone rough.
"Shut up."
"Careful, kid," Woo-jin said.
"I said shut up."
Do-hyun bent his head and licked a slow wet stripe from root to tip.
The skin was hot and salty.
It twitched under his tongue, and Woo-jin's whole body went rigid.
He closed his lips around the head.
He sucked, tentatively at first, and tasted the bitter bead that welled up.
The sound Woo-jin made went right to the base of his own spine.
"Again," Woo-jin said.
"You don't give orders."
"Do it again, Do-hyun."
It was the first time he had used the name.
Do-hyun shuddered, and he did it again.
He took more of the length, as much as he could, until the head pressed the back of his throat and his eyes watered.
He pulled off, coughing, and spit slicked his chin.
He went down again.
He found a rhythm by feel: a slow slide down, a hollowed cheek on the way up, his tongue pressed flat beneath the vein.
Woo-jin's hand came down on the arm of the chair and gripped it until the leather creaked.
His other hand hovered over Do-hyun's head and did not land.
"Your rule," Woo-jin said, strained. "I'm holding to your rule."
Do-hyun pulled off with a wet sound.
"Good," he said, and went back down.
The word pleased him more than he wanted it to.
He sucked harder.
He took one hand from the base and used it on the heavy weight below, rolling it gently in his palm.
Woo-jin's thighs began to shake.
"Fuck," Woo-jin said.
His voice cracked on it.
"Where did you learn this?"
Do-hyun answered with his mouth full, a rough sound that made the cock jump against his tongue.
He took him deeper.
His throat fought it and he made himself relax, breathing through his nose, tears running down his temples.
When he had all he could take, he swallowed around the head.
Woo-jin shouted.
He folded forward over Do-hyun's bent back, one hand finally on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise.
"Enough. Stop. I'm going to-"
Do-hyun did not stop.
He bobbed faster, mouth tight and wet, and he reached up with his bandaged hand and cupped the hot weight again.
He wanted to see this.
He wanted the controlled man in the leather chair to come apart with his mouth on him.
Woo-jin's hips snapped up.
The cock slid hard along his tongue, and Do-hyun gagged, and held, and took it.
"Do-hyun."
His name was a groan this time.
"Do-hyun, now-"
Hot pulses hit the back of his throat.
Do-hyun swallowed and swallowed, and a little ran over his lip and down his chin.
He stayed where he was, with the cock softening in his mouth and Woo-jin's hand trembling on his shoulder, until the last shudder passed.
Then he sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with his wrist.
His own cock was hard and aching inside his borrowed sweatpants, and he did not touch it.
The clock on the nightstand read a minute past midnight.
Something in his chest that had been clenched for three days let go, and he turned his face away so Woo-jin would not see.
Woo-jin watched him through half-closed eyes.
His chest was still heaving, and his shirt clung dark with sweat to his ribs.
"Come here," he said.
"No."
"Do-hyun. Come here."
Do-hyun stood on legs that did not feel like his and walked the two steps.
Woo-jin took his wrist and pulled him down across his lap, and Do-hyun let himself be pulled.
Woo-jin's hand went to the front of the sweatpants, found him, and gripped.
"You took that so beautifully," he said against his ear.
"Don't talk."
"I will talk. You'll listen."
He pushed the waistband down, wrapped his fist around the swollen length, and began to stroke.
Do-hyun cried out and clutched his shoulders.
"Tell me how it felt," Woo-jin said.
"Fuck off."
"Tell me. With my cock in your mouth, what did you feel?"
Do-hyun's face burned against his shoulder.
"Full," he said, and the word cracked. "I felt full. I wanted more."
"More of what?"
"More of you choking me."
Woo-jin's breath stuttered, and his grip went tight and fast.
"Say that again."
"I liked it when you shook," Do-hyun said. "I liked that I did that."
Woo-jin groaned low in his chest and ground his hips up beneath him.
The hard line of him was already stirring again against Do-hyun's thigh.
Do-hyun rolled his hips into the fist, and heat coiled low and unbearable in his belly.
It did not take long.
He was too wound up, too close, and the memory of that thick weight in his mouth was still on his tongue.
Woo-jin kept his eyes on Do-hyun's face the entire time, and he never touched it.
His free hand lay on Do-hyun's back, spread wide and warm.
"Whatever you do for me," he said, low, "I'll have it paid back in kind. Remember that."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise."
Do-hyun came with his forehead against Woo-jin's neck and a muffled sound into his collar.
He lay there afterwards with his breath tearing in and out.
Woo-jin fed him a sugar cube without a word, and Do-hyun took it from his fingers, lips brushing his skin.
The room was quiet.
The clock moved to ten past midnight.
"You keep looking at the time," Woo-jin said.
"It's late."
"That's not why."
Do-hyun said nothing.
Woo-jin shifted him gently off his lap and onto the arm of the chair.
He tucked himself back in, fastened the belt, and crossed to the desk.
He picked up a printed photograph and held it out.
It was a blurred grey image of a cash machine, and a man in a cap bent over the keypad with his face hidden.
"Beom-su pulled the camera at the Guro machine this afternoon," Woo-jin said. "It's the one that took the cash. Look at him."
Do-hyun looked.
The man was heavy through the shoulders and wore a grey cap and a camel coat.
He was nothing like a student.
Do-hyun kept his face smooth and gave nothing back.
"That isn't me," he said.
"No."
"You knew?"
"Since this afternoon." Woo-jin put the photograph down. "You're not the thief, Do-hyun."
Relief hit him so hard he nearly slid off the chair arm.
Woo-jin watched it happen.
"You're not the thief," he said again. "And you're not going home either."
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