Ideal Type|BTSxBTS

Incentive

(^^^This is what Jungkook is wearing)

The strain in his shoulders was intense. It left his muscles tight, like a spring ready to burst, except that wasn't possible. Because the chains were pulling his arms up, impossible high as if he was supposed to touch the ceiling. Which wasn't possible, it just wasn't possible, and it left Seokjin standing on the tips of his toes.

"You're awfully quiet today."

The blood had left his fingers, practically his entire arm, but there was still an ounce of feeling in his biceps.

"Hey, Slave, you alive?"

Seokjin opened his eyes to glare at the man in front of him. His fringe obscured his vision but he hoped the hatred in his glare was still apparent. And it was, because the man scoffed before slapping Seokjin across the face.

"Don't look at me like that boy, you better show me some damn respect," he sneered and smacked him again.

His face was burning but the pain was nothing compared to what he's endured so far. A simple slap to the face was almost welcomed compared to what he's been through; he'd welcome a slap wholeheartedly.

The man slid behind Seokjin and that caused his heart to race. Not knowing what to expect was terrifying, not being able to see him was terrifying, everything was terrifying. A fat hand suddenly grabbed his cock and he jumped, a gasp leaving his bite ridden lips. The man's hand stroked him slowly, squeezing the base and running his thumb over the leaking tip. Cupping his balls and alternating between fast and slow tugs. It was too much, the weirdly normal pleasure that one would receive from a lover, it made Seokjin sick. The sickness starting from his toes, bubbling in his stomach, all the way to the numb tips of his fingers.

"You like that Slave?" The man breathed into his ear, hot and ripe with cigarettes. "Haven't had someone touch ya like this in awhile huh?"

No, was what Seokjin was thinking. He hasn't been touched like that since he was taken, and who knows how long ago that was. Except he didn't like it, it was wrong and gross and inappropriate, and he hated his body for reacting the way it did.

"You wanna cum Slave?" The man taunted, his hand moving faster, filling the room with lewd sounds.

The knot was building in his belly, burning like a fire. Seokjin bit down on his lip, hard enough to break the flesh and paint his mouth red with blood. The filthy man had no right to hear his moans of pleasure, and the last of his dignity would die with him if he did.

The man's hand moved with expertise. Each tug and stroke was perfectly timed, and Seokjin could feel the knot in his belly quickly coming undone. He dropped his head, ready to hide his shame, when the sound of a door opening echoed in the room and the man's hand came to a stop. Seokjin jerked his head up and watched, mouth agape, as a boy clad in a button up shirt and pants was wheeled into the room by a man in scrubs.

"Jung...Jungkook?" Seokjin whispered because it couldn't be real. The boy sitting in a wheelchair wasn't his maknae, it couldn't be.

But it was, because the boy lifted his head up at the sound of his name, revealing Jungkook's doe eyes staring back at him.

"Oh my god, oh my, holy fuck, Jungkook!" Seokjin was crying, hot tears already sliding down his cheeks. "Jungkook!"

Seokjin pulled against the chains holding his arms up, the muscles in his shoulders screaming at him to stop. The man behind him seemed to laugh but Seokjin couldn't care less, his maknae was here. Only a few feet away from him yet there was no way to reach him.