It starts out of a whim and Taeyong’s own indecisiveness.
They’re in a waiting room, all dressed up in their stage outfits, every wrinkle ironed meticulously out of their clothes, shirts starched to stiff perfection. Taeyong has his regular surge of performance anxiety in the back of the room, palms sweaty and heart in his throat. Jaehyun sits right next to him and lets him rest his head on a shoulder.
It isn’t a rare occurrence. Taeyong is someone who gets overwhelmed easily, someone who can’t stand not being in control. One blunder and his entire world falls apart by the seams. Today, he’s crying quietly over his usual handful of problems—how tired and overworked he is, how sometimes he feels like he doesn’t deserve to receive the love he does from fans, how he fucked up once and now he feels like he’s fucked up forever. Jaehyun listens to Taeyong’s rambling attentively, all soft and sweet at the edges, at the crinkles of his eyes.
Somewhere in the flurry of panicked words and comforting strokes through Taeyong’s hair, Jaehyun tells Taeyong he loves him. Taeyong responds without any grace, stutters out various haphazard phrases that all tie into the idea that Jaehyun isn’t being genuine, that he’s just saying it to comfort Taeyong. Jaehyun frowns and tells him that he’s being serious, kissing Taeyong in front of the other members who promptly take it as a cue to glance away (except for Johnny, Taeyong notes), to prove himself. All Taeyong can do is blink and fall silent.
That same day in the car ride home, something like clockwork, Johnny tells Taeyong he loves him too. He does it while Taeyong’s head is pressed up against the window, counting backwards from a hundred in an attempt to sort out his thoughts, shifting in his seat restlessly, running through all the blunders he made during their performance in his mind. Johnny slots his head against Taeyong’s shoulder, and it’s awkward and unnatural because of how stupidly tall Johnny is. There’s a large hand suddenly encompassing his own and his heart does a fucking backflip. Johnny says it out of nowhere, no preamble, no warnings or prior conversation. Johnny tells him he loves him like he breathes—like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
And the planet starts to spin too fast for Taeyong because what are the fucking odds of having two of his very hot, and very much out-of-his-league members telling him that they’re in love with him? All within the span of a few hours? Taeyong thinks it must be some stupid fever dream formulated in his head (born out of his intrinsic desire to feel needed, maybe, but that’s a little too pitiful for him to admit). But then they’re both looking at Taeyong through their lashes, bodies worn and tired, leaning up against the doorframe against Taeyong’s room with much more than just harmless intent, and Taeyong realizes he’s found himself in a genuine predicament.
You’re in some really, really deep shit, the ever articulate voice in the back of his mind supplies. Taeyong laments every decision he’s ever made leading up to this point.
The thing with this situation in particular is that Taeyong’s almost positive, ninety-nine percent certain that Johnny and Jaehyun are dating. Sure, they haven’t properly announced it, but with the way they always eye each other from opposite sides of the room, or the way Jaehyun slots himself against Johnny like they were made to fit against each other. Right now, Johnny has a carefree arm slung around Jaehyun’s shoulders, leaning his weight against Jaehyun as if it helped him stand. It’s natural and it’s domestic. Taeyong doesn’t know what it’s like, but he doesn’t want to ruin that.
Besides, Taeyong isn’t too sure how to respond after being confessed to. He’s adept at many things—dancing and performing, cooking and cleaning—but effectively dealing with off the wall propositions like these isn’t one of them. As much as Taeyong likes to believe he’s the responsible and mature member out of the bunch, he’s nothing of the sort. Sometimes, he’s pretty damn graceless. Sometimes, when he tries to function like a viable human being, he slips up completely, his emotions translating awkwardly, fumbling with his words like some confused bumbling teenager. He knows himself well, so this time around, he opts for the easy way out.
He does what every other responsible adult would do instead of providing a clear answer—he dodges this little dilemma and tells them both that he’ll think about it. For a while, they shrug it off and pretend like nothing happened. Taeyong convinces himself he’s not being that evasive because he really does think about it.
But the easy way proved not to be so easy after all because Taeyong’s inner turmoil stirs in his stomach for a whole week. Taeyong does lament about it. A lot. But he avoids the topic with vehement adamance until it’s brought up again when they’re both alone in the dorm with him, and Taeyong seems to be the only one who’s wallowing in the uncomfortable atmosphere. Jaehyun eats quickly and quietly while Johnny chews at half of Jaehyun’s rate, rambling about something random that Taeyong can’t bring himself to pay attention to, not now with his current whirlwind of thoughts.
Taeyong finishes his food first and stands to wash his plate, but Jaehyun blurts out, seemingly without a care, “You haven’t responded to either one of us yet.”
Taeyong’s heart really does jump out of his chest and lands right at his feet in front of him.
He sits back down in his seat clumsily, feet not coordinating with each other, at a complete loss of words. His eyes scan both of their faces, brows raised in expectancy of an answer. They’re treating this like it’s nothing. Like it’s as natural and easy as breathing. Taeyong swallows the lump in his throat and averts his gaze, staring down into his lap where he weaves his fingers together, thumbs twiddling in apprehension.
“I can’t choose between you two,” he responds with careful deliberation. Johnny and Jaehyun glance at each other like they were swapping thoughts, trading wordless sentiments, and they both smile. Taeyong has no idea what to do with himself, drowning in the silence. “And besides, aren’t you two already together? Wouldn’t I be, uhm, intruding on something?”
Jaehyun blinks first, a blank and unreadable expression, not a single detectable emotion plastered on his face. Johnny’s the opposite—he switches between three different emotional intensities before he settles on one—unabashed amusement. Taeyong still has no clue what Johnny’s thinking either.
“You know,” Jaehyun starts, and Johnny finishes, because apparently that’s their established sequence, “there’s nothing wrong with loving two people.”
“We’ve, well, had an interest in you for a while now. You’re not intruding,” Jaehyun clarifies, words without much thought or contemplation, but still carrying more grace and ease it puts Taeyong to shame. Taeyong’s brain takes approximately three-and-a-half eternities too long to register just exactly what Jaehyun’s trying to communicate. “It’s cool if you don’t want to, but we want you to be apart of, well, this.”
And with that, everything falls into place, pieces together in Taeyong’s head. Jaehyun and Johnny both lean their chins against a palm as if they’re on the exact same wavelength, teeth on display in the afternoon sunlight, both so individually beautiful in their own respective ways it makes Taeyong’s mouth go dry. The voice in the back of his head convinces him that there’s no possible way this can go awry, that he only has this one life to live so he should just do it. He’s too indecisive to pick favorites between two people (and he’ll be damned if he’s not convinced with the loving way they’re gazing at him), so Taeyong nods and decides he’ll give their proposition a try.
Maybe it’s because they’re just weirdly intimate, but Taeyong feels a foot running up his leg. It travels and ghosts along calf, and he would brush it off as nothing if another didn’t quickly follow up and press against the inside of his thigh. There’s a sly upturn of Johnny’s lips, and then Jaehyun’s, both impossible to miss. Disconcertment isn’t their thing, apparently.
Taeyong’s fine. He’s not flustered. This is trivial matter. Whatever.
Taeyong replies with only two words, a little dumbfoundedly because he’s the perfect picture of eloquence, clearly, “Yeah. Okay.”
And that’s that.
So now, because of that exchange, Taeyong offers himself up to two people instead of one, and sometimes, when they have him wrapped around their finger and tipping off his axis, he finds himself regretting it.
Johnny and Jaehyun are affectionate. It’s just their thing, and Taeyong, admittedly, is a little overwhelmed at how they get themselves too comfortable too quickly, falling into a routine of closeness and familiarity that’s too much for Taeyong to get used to. They wrap their arms around Taeyong’s waist and drape their long limbs over his small body without warning, throwing him off balance and his world along with him.
The sex is sweet at first. They treat him like glass—fucking him slowly and thoroughly while pressing incessant kisses all over his skin. Neither of them pressure Taeyong into anything he’s not ready for, always within boundaries. Taeyong finds himself absolutely melting, putty in their hands as they work him pliant and open. Johnny eases his way inside with gentle deliberation when he fucks Taeyong while Jaehyun croons little praises as he slips his cock between Taeyong’s lips. They’re kind and they’re considerate until they realize they don’t need to be. Now, there’s no hesitation when there’s hands around his throat and bruises along the line of his hips. Taeyong isn’t sure what to call it anymore.
He blames it on the strange cosmic will of the universe, how the situation flipped a complete one-eighty and morphed into something darker, something with the same chill of staring into the fucking abyss. Taeyong’s mind wanders to how it all started—chaste kisses and handholding, spooning each other in a cramped bed that can’t adequately fit the three of them. Now, Taeyong’s here—standing awkwardly backstage, all plugged up and at Jaehyun’s mercy. The universe works in weird, sinister ways.
“You okay?” Jaehyun asks when Taeyong stumbles, catching him by the arm. His grip is firm and his fingers press into bone as he pulls Taeyong closer to him with his breath on Taeyong’s neck. Taeyong can’t seem to get himself to focus on a simple task like walking no matter how hard he tries, not when his world spins and he can’t tell left from right.
Jaehyun’s presence is so overbearing, pulling Taeyong towards him and making Taeyong feel like prey being hunted. Taeyong’s foolish but can’t bring himself to move or pry himself away from Jaehyun’s hold, not when he’s so on edge like this. Jaehyun’s insistent, tightening his grip around Taeyong’s wrist, and it takes all of Taeyong’s energy and self-control not to tell Jaehyun to fuck off. He knows it’ll come back to bite him in the ass later.
“Yeah, I’m fine” he responds, tries to maintain himself the best he can. His efforts are in vain when his voice quivers, small and breathless around every syllable. Jaehyun lifts Taeyong’s chin with a forefinger and slides it against the line of Taeyong’s jaw. Goosebumps raise. Heartbeats quicken. Taeyong digs his teeth into his lower lip to distract himself, glancing away. He doesn’t even need to see Jaehyun’s face to know what expression he’s making.
Taeyong knows it’s a taunt. Taeyong’s careless but he’s not dumb. He knows what Jaehyun’s going for, aiming for one thing and one thing only—to crawl under his skin, to rile him up and get him to break. Taeyong straightens out his gaze and Jaehyun is there smiling as if it were nothing, as if it were a figment of Taeyong’s imagination. In moments like these, Taeyong really does wish he was just imagining things.
“Good.” The smile Jaehyun gives him is easy, mild and innocent, and seems like the complete opposite from what it actually is. If Taeyong didn’t know Jaehyun so well, and if he didn’t currently have a plug squeezed inside of his hole—just as strained as his cock is, pressed between his stomach and the waistband of his jeans, borderline painful—he would’ve been fooled. “You’re such a good boy. I can’t even tell that you’re hard.”
“Shut up,” Taeyong mutters quietly enough that Jaehyun misses it completely, doesn’t dare raise his voice because he knows better than to piss Jaehyun off, to draw attention or be too aggressive, too bratty. Jaehyun is cruel to him when he is.
Jaehyun yanks Taeyong even closer until his back is against Jaehyun’s chest. They’re in a corner and all of the staff members are scrambling backstage to get the next performance ready, too frenzied to pay them any attention, but Taeyong still hurries to brush Jaehyun’s hand to the side and scurry away before anyone questions them. Taeyong knows he failed, like he usually does, when Jaehyun chuckles.
“You’re just like a temptress, you know that?” he whispers into the shell of Taeyong’s ear. His hand moves to Taeyong’s crotch, dragging a finger along the outline of Taeyong’s cock because he’s a menace, a massive fucking tease. Jaehyun still wears that stupidly poised smile on his face, and Taeyong winces when Jaehyun presses the heel of his palm down onto the bulge in Taeyong’s jeans. His voice is low, almost lost in the base of the music. “You’re so lucky Johnny’s not here to see you right now or we might have to fuck you out in the open where everyone can see. You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? Pretty little Taeyong likes attention right?”
Taeyong doesn’t respond and screws his eyes shut instead, trying to calm himself down, trying to keep himself from getting more worked up than he already is.
“Hey,” Jaehyun says simply, but Taeyong knows that it’s a demand. There’s fingers carding through Taeyong’s hair now, as if it were a threat, and eventually he turns his head, too cautious and hyper-aware of Jaehyun’s presence. Jaehyun’s expression is unreadable and flat, but the glint in his eyes makes, one that communicates so much more than any sentence he could construct, one that makes Taeyong squirm. The look Jaehyun’s using to stare Taeyong down could kill, the certain narrowness of his eyes hard and sharp, smashing through every mental wall Taeyong could erect. It makes him feel small, makes him feel desperate and tortured and needy, but Jaehyun doesn’t need to know that. Jaehyun finishes with a pointed look, and perhaps Taeyong shivers, “Answer me.”
Something in the atmosphere shifts when Jaehyun’s hand runs down the side of his face to his neck. Taeyong swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Jaehyun’s thumb rests right against it, right on the jugular of Taeyong’s throat as he stands in silence, waiting for Taeyong to say something. Anything. Taeyong responds in a lapse of judgement, in an instance of bravery, “You talk too much.” He regrets it almost immediately.
Jaehyun’s brows furrow and Taeyong braces himself for some kind of impact, for anything.
Jaehyun lets out a breath that sounds less like a sigh and more like a laugh. The hand coming down against Taeyong’s cheek is light, something like a fond pat because Jaehyun’s not the type to hurt him physically like that (instead, he likes to tease Taeyong until it’s painful, which honestly, is even worse), but Taeyong knows that there’s some dark sentiment behind the gesture. It doesn’t take him by surprise however. Maybe it’s because somewhere in Taeyong’s heart, he half-wishes Jaehyun would’ve put more force into it, would’ve made his skin bloom red, bruise him nice and pretty—but it still puts him in his place.
Jaehyun gets a little closer, eyes glancing at Taeyong’s lips then right back up again, and Taeyong wants nothing but for Jaehyun to kiss him, shove his tongue down Taeyong’s throat, to taste him and spit in his mouth. Jaehyun presses him into the wall and Taeyong verifies for certain that the smack from earlier was anything but fond—something along the lines of intimidation, a dark proposition—because Jaehyun’s thumb is stroking at his Adam’s apple now and he feels somewhat like a cornered animal. “You’re getting a little bold aren’t you? Someone says you’re pretty with a hand on your thigh and you think you can get ahead of yourself and talk back to me? Watch yourself, babe.”
Taeyong opens his mouth to respond but closes it again immediately. Jaehyun’s grin is back in full force, completed with those deep ass dimples of his, and the hold he has on Taeyong’s throat tightens. He’s urging for an answer, but Taeyong doesn’t speak, has that spark of defiance in him. Jaehyun clicks his tongue.
“How was it? Flirting with Yuta? Does he know that Johnny and I plugged you up this morning?” he asks, because he’s always so full of questions when he has Taeyong cornered like this, when he’s in this headspace, settling into this persona of his. He’s always had this way of making Taeyong feel dirty, filthy. Both he and Johnny do. “No? Should we tell him? Answer me.”
Taeyong tests his patience, turns to face in a different direction, and quickly finds himself with Jaehyun gripping at his chin, prying his head back to where Jaehyun can see. He doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t need to when he’s staring Taeyong down like that.
“N-no,” Taeyong sputters when Jaehyun slides a thigh between his legs and suddenly there’s friction. He’s been hard for too long to handle it and whines, a little too loud. Jaehyun laughs, or scoffs because he’s an asshole sometimes. Maybe it’s because Taeyong’s always been weak when it comes to Jaehyun, weak to how easily Jaehyun gets him wrapped around a finger, but his knees give out far too quick for his liking and he’s falling forward. All of his weight rests on Jaehyun’s one thigh, pressing onto his cock. Taeyong chews on his lip to distract himself and tastes blood on his tongue.
“How come? I’m sure he’d love to see,” and Jaehyun’s voice is saccharine sweet, all soft tone and low timbre, and Taeyong knows for certain that he’s being patronized right now. Jaehyun’s so stable and unaffected it makes Taeyong feel more hot than he already is. “You afraid that he’ll find out how much of a slut you are?”
Taeyong whimpers and it comes out as a noise that’s almost pathetic. Meager. A small kitten crawling into a lion’s den. Jaehyun is relentless with the questions today, and Taeyong can’t keep up without his thoughts stumbling over each other.
“Hm? Can he fuck you as good as we do?” Taeyong screws his eyes shut when Jaehyun raises his leg, so much pressure on Taeyong’s cock that it hurts, painful in a way that brings him so close to the edge, but Taeyong doesn’t dare cross that line. He’s careful not to do so without permission.
Jaehyun wants Taeyong to slip up, watching every movement and minding every murmur. In times like this, Taeyong wants to tell him off, tell him how much of an asshole he can be because he doesn’t hear it often enough. Everyone, absolutely everyone thinks Jaehyun is a fucking angel. Taeyong knows better than that, but he can’t say a thing, can’t manage anything except for a small, desperate whine of, “Please.”
But the single word is full of meaning, begs for the entire world from Jaehyun with just a syllable. Jaehyun picks up on it easily and something in him softens just a bit. Taeyong wonders if he’s taking effect, if he’s getting to Jaehyun even just a little, but that expression doesn't last. Jaehyun falls into character as natural and easy as when he’s singing up onstage.
“Later,” Jaehyun responds with a small upturn of the lips. He makes it seem like this is nothing, like he’s just bored and Taeyong is the only one in pieces. He retracts his thigh without preamble and Taeyong nearly stumbles to the ground, left to stare at the glint on Jaehyun’s polished shoes as he steps out of the shadow and into the light. Taeyong tries his hardest to distract himself from the ache, the strain of his cock. There's a chuckle. “You’re gonna have to be patient until we get home.”
Taeyong nearly trips over his own feet when following Jaehyun back to the dressing room.
Taeyong sits next to Johnny in the car, and the ride back to their dorm takes what feels like the longest stretch of time Taeyong’s ever had to suffer through, longer than a string of light years or a life of a fucking star. Taeyong can't help but shift in his seat every few minutes, trying to situate the plug comfortably inside him. It doesn't work, and it presses inside of Taeyong uncomfortably with every adjustment, making him even more aware of it with each movement.
Johnny has his hand gripped onto Taeyong’s thigh and a finger rubbing circles into his knee. Taeyong is awfully aware of it, of how Johnny could easily smooth his palms down and reach a bit further, wrap his hand around Taeyong’s cock. But he doesn't, and half of Taeyong is thankful for it because he doesn’t know what he would do, doesn’t want to melt right into the touch in front of the other members. Making a mess out of himself and having Johnny and Jaehyun humiliate him, with their manager in the front seat at that, is far from the ideal situation.
But the other half of Taeyong dreads it. Taeyong’s strung so tight and wired, fighting to distract himself from the strain of his cock. Johnny’s hand clenches when Taeyong squirms again as if in warning. The outside traffic is annoying but it gives him something to pay attention to. He tips his head and rests it against the window.
Jaehyun sits on the other side of Johnny with his head slotted against Johnny’s shoulder. He scrolls through his phone lazily, tapping through endless messages as if he were in a trance. The car hits a bump and Taeyong yelps. Only then does Jaehyun look up from the screen, and Taeyong watches a grin bloom from the corner of his eye.
“You feeling okay, babe?” Johnny asks into Taeyong’s ear, and his voice is so full of mock-concern that it’s frustrating. Johnny is perfectly aware, privy of the position that Taeyong’s currently in, but his expression is so oblivious and easy, so fucking coy it makes Taeyong want to rip his own eyes out. He runs his hand along Taeyong’s thigh, not too much, not too little. It feels large and intimidating but calming at the same time. Taeyong feels a sense of stability from having this sort of contact with Johnny, just a bit, and his chest warms at the way Johnny makes him feel small and taken care of in a different way than Jaehyun does. But that only lasts for as long as Johnny’s willing to keep it up. “Just a while longer.”
Taeyong hums in the back of his throat, and he doesn’t know if the feeling in the pit of his stomach is dread or anticipation. All he wants is to cum, to replace the plug with either of their cocks, to have something to rub against his prostate and fill him in a way that the plug can't. Taeyong wants to be wrecked, but he doesn’t tell them that. Taeyong would much rather live with it than beg out loud.
Johnny’s hand does wander eventually when they’re just a few blocks away from their dorm. His fingers graze Taeyong’s bulge and the contact is so brief and fleeting that Taeyong bucks his hips forward, searches for friction before Johnny snatches his hand away like he burned himself. Johnny’s hand travels to Taeyong’s face, grabs onto Taeyong’s chin to turn his face towards him.
“That’s not how good boys behave,” Johnny whispers when he leans in, breath creeping on Taeyong’s skin. His voice is so, so quiet that Taeyong would miss it all together if he wasn’t paying attention. He hopes that nobody else in the car overhears either, but it seems like Jaehyun did (to Taeyong’s horrible, horrible dismay) because he perks up and leans past Johnny to take a glimpse at Taeyong. Both of them glance at each other, an exchange of wordless sentiment, and they both snicker as if there was something funny about this. Johnny hums and voices his words a little louder this time, and it makes Taeyong flustered and paranoid out of his mind, “Only boys with self-control get rewarded.”
Johnny’s hand moves down again and it’s back on Taeyong’s crotch, but this time instead of light touches, Johnny is palming Taeyong roughly through his jeans, pressing onto his cock with a force that knocks him breathless. Taeyong tucks his lips over his teeth and flattens his mouth into a line, breathing frantically through his nose in an attempt to not make noise.
“Taeyong, you don’t look too well,” Jaehyun points out—no, announces—when Taeyong stares intently out of the car window, trying to divert his attention on anything else he can. Johnny lifts Taeyong’s shirt and rolls his thumb over Taeyong’s cockhead poking out from his waistband. There’s precum smeared onto his stomach in a sloppy, wet mess, and Taeyong hates that they have him like this. His cock is way too oversensitive and he borderline thrashes when Johnny digs a fingernail into the slit, his knee knocking against the car door. Johnny moves to swipe his tongue over his finger briefly like he was licking away crumbs, like he was having a taste. The teasing is fucking merciless, and Taeyong finds himself too focused on the way Johnny’s tongue darts out, transfixed on the wrong thing at the wrong time.
“I-I’m fine,” Taeyong says, voice breaking, too drained of energy to protest further. Their manager peeks his head from the front seat, giving Taeyong this skeptical look out of genuine concern. Taeyong waves him away with a passive hand and thanks whatever deity that’s out there that it’s almost nighttime, because Johnny’s hand is hidden in a shadow and it’s back to mess with him again. Taeyong also simultaneously curses that same deity for putting him in this position to begin with.
“Really?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow. He’s acting oblivious, playing coy, and it pisses Taeyong off so, so much.
“Really,” Taeyong insists, emphasizes his syllables because he’s sick of them pestering him like this, getting his under his skin, pushing him into that distantly familiar headspace. His whole body seizes up again when Johnny’s hold on him tightens like a vice grip. His back straightens and he whimpers just the slightest bit in the back of his throat because it aches and he just wants to cum and—
Johnny’s hand is gone. Taeyong sinks back down in his seat, wind knocked out of his lungs.
“We’re here,” Johnny says in the most stupidly mild voice Taeyong thinks he’s ever heard. He smiles at Taeyong innocently, not a crack or blemish in his expression, and seems so unaffected and unbothered that it irritates Taeyong beyond belief. Johnny runs his fingers through his hair, strands dark and edges sharp, and gestures Taeyong to get out of the car. Taeyong gets the message too slow, too occupied with the thought of how he would give up everything to sit in Johnny’s lap and bounce on his cock right now. He shakes his head and wills that idea away almost as fast as it came.
Taeyong slides the door open and almost stumbles as he steps out. He has some trouble at first, tries to calculate a way to walk without showing his limp too much, without the plug moving around too much, and envisions every bad scenario that could spawn if he isn’t cautious enough. A hand reaches out and grabs onto his shoulder, prevents him from tumbling right over. It’s Johnny, because of course it is, wrapping an arm around Taeyong’s waist to help him walk.
Jaehyun quickly makes his way over to them and smiles. Taeyong isn’t sure if it’s directed at him or Johnny, but a split second later, Taeyong feels a hand on the back of his neck, fingers stroking at the hair of his nape. Jaehyun has a weird expression, one that Taeyong can’t read or pinpoint. Goosebumps raise on Taeyong’s skin when Jaehyun tells him a swift and easy, “Soon.”
“Soon,” Johnny echoes, as if it was necessary, humming in content. It’s unsettling how one word can mean so much.
It takes them only a few minutes of Taeyong limping through the lobby and tripping into the elevator, of leaning against the railing for support before stumbling out, until they’re at the threshold of the apartment. Jaehyun unlocks the door with deft fingers and it swings open. Jaehyun tugs Taeyong inside with a hand around his wrist. Taeyong’s heart drops down into his stomach and he stays right where he is.
“Wait,” Taeyong says, anxiety prickling his skin. He pauses mid-step. Taeyong’s tendency to worry always acts up last minute and he realizes rather belatedly that all of the others should be home right now. He glances at Jaehyun, and then at Johnny, and neither of them seem to have a care in the world. “What about the other members? Aren’t they…?”
“No need to panic. We have the dorm all to ourselves,” Jaehyun answers before Taeyong can finish his question, smoothing out all the wrinkles in the nervous atmosphere. Taeyong doesn’t know whether or not he should breathe a sigh of relief and swallows the lump in his throat in apprehension. “I texted Taeil hyung earlier to take everyone in this apartment out for food. Lucky he owes me some favors.”
Jaehyun tosses his jacket onto the couch as soon as they step in, and Taeyong, true to character, gets caught on the little things and has to resist the instinctual urge to grab it and stick it on a hanger. Johnny wasn’t wearing one to begin with (Taeyong can see miles and miles of arm and taught muscle, holy shit), and knowing him, it would be strewn on the floor right now if he was.
Jaehyun ruffles his own hair and tugs Taeyong along. He shakes the unnecessary thoughts from his mind because he’s getting sidetracked. He’s not focused on what’s important, and should be concerned with the very real and very substantial issue at hand: he’s about to get destroyed.
Taeyong’s about to die. From this, from them.
Jaehyun leads him by the wrist to their shared room. His steps are a little too quick, and Taeyong struggles to keep up with his limp, but Johnny’s following right behind Taeyong with a large hand pressing between his shoulder blades. The contact makes Taeyong feel both safe and frightened at the same time. Jaehyun opens the door and flips on a lightswitch, and in what feels like a blur, Taeyong’s being pushed onto the mattress.
Taeyong blinks, once and twice, out of surprise. They move so fast—Jaehyun gets behind Taeyong as he’s leaning back, letting Taeyong’s back press against his chest, situated between long, sturdy legs. Johnny gets right in his face, looming over him, caging him in. They have him trapped like this. It’s not an unfamiliar thing.
Jaehyun hums into his ear, “Have you been patient, sweetheart?” The pet name makes Taeyong feel a certain way, makes both his heart and stomach twist. Jaehyun’s hands roam to grab onto each of Taeyong’s arms, constricting him as if he were trying to force out an answer. Taeyong nods tightly and Jaehyun coos. The sound is soft and endearing and would make his heart flutter if they were in a different situation. Unfortunately, they aren’t, and Jaehyun’s grip never loosens. “Words.”
“Yes,” Taeyong breathes after a few long, long seconds of useless deliberation, ears turning red.
Johnny rubs Taeyong’s lower lip under his thumb and adds a, “Have you been good for us?” Taeyong nods quickly because he has, he really fucking has. Johnny hums and tugs Taeyong’s shirt over his head. Taeyong gives easily and raises his arms for Johnny, wants to strip himself down and rid himself of any unnecessary fabric. Jaehyun works at unbuttoning his jeans from behind and Johnny promptly hooks his fingers into the waistband of his pants and underwear and pulls everything down Taeyong’s thighs in one swift motion. His clothes land somewhere on the floor but Taeyong doesn’t bother to care when there’s a look of such satisfaction in Johnny’s expression. Taeyong flushes a little more red, right from the line his chin and neck meet down to his chest at the attention. His cheeks are tinged pink too, probably.
Taeyong flinches when Johnny licks at a nipple, sucks it until it’s swollen and red, rolling it between his teeth. Taeyong instinctively arches into the touch, searching for something, for more. “Yes, fuck yes, please Johnny,” he whines, and he’d be mortified enough to die over the high pitch of his voice if he wasn’t so wound up. Johnny’s hand moves to flick a finger at Taeyong’s cock and he jumps, strips whatever semblance of shame he has left and moans in a voice he doesn’t recognize, so fucking loud he thinks he’s going mad.
“Shh,” Jaehyun twists a hand through his hair and yanks so hard it pulls Taeyong back until he’s flush against Jaehyun’s chest. Taeyong snaps out of it and his focus blurs, landing on the way Jaehyun bites down onto his shoulder. This is how he gets Taeyong to obey. “Quiet down.”
Taeyong silences himself immediately and Jaehyun kisses at the redness as if it would make it go away.
“Color?” Jaehyun asks, pressing his lips against the patch of skin behind Taeyong’s ear. His touch is comforting and the edges to his words soften, but Taeyong knows he’s only like this for so long before he slips into that persona of his. Soon, Taeyong will give into Jaehyun and Johnny, let them throw him around like a ragdoll, make him submit and give up all resistance. But for now, Taeyong is a bit difficult, letting out a small moan instead of responding. Jaehyun fists his hair and pulls on it once more. Taeyong yelps, and he lets go to smooth a hand down from Taeyong’s shoulders to the dips of his ribs. Jaehyun asks again, acting as if he didn’t pay any mind to how Taeyong’s distracted, even gentler this time, “Color, baby?”
“Safeword?” Johnny’s voice is almost as gentle and easy as Jaehyun’s. He shifts closer and kisses at Taeyong’s neck, licks a stripe against the mark Jaehyun left before working his way up to nibble on Taeyong’s jaw.
“Rules?” Jaehyun asks, ensures that Taeyong never forgets, as Johnny sucks the first actual hickey of the night onto Taeyong’s easily bruised skin. This one is Taeyong’s least favorite question to answer. He swallows the lump in his throat and licks his lips, a numb sense of nervousness spreading in his stomach. Jaehyun waits, and so does Johnny, and Taeyong can feel both of them staring holes right into him. He takes a sharp inhale.
“N-no touching myself…” he begins, quivering. Jaehyun maneuvers him until he’s up on his knees, sitting on the backs of his heels. Jaehyun kisses at his spine to urge him on, and Johnny just smiles at him warmly, earnestly. His heart is in his throat, and he thinks he might even choke. “No cumming without permission.”
“What else?” Johnny has a look on his face that Taeyong doesn’t want to mistake as adoration, coaxing him on. Not now, at least.
“No talking back.”
There’s a synchronized hum from the both of them. Taeyong’s mouth goes dry. “And what happens when you don't follow the rules?”
“I get punished,” Taeyong responds in a diminutive voice. He shrinks his shoulders and his presence.
“Good boy,” Jaehyun says sweetly, and in a split second, shorter than the rhythmic lup-dub of a heartbeat, his hand is on the back of Taeyong’s neck and he shoves Taeyong’s face right into the mattress. “Ass up,” he orders. His voice is more stern now, punctuated with a smack on Taeyong’s hip.
Taeyong listens and arches his back, ass wiggling in the air. His nipples graze the sheets and he recoils, so oversensitive it’s infuriating, bucking into Jaehyun’s touch. He hears Jaehyun giggle under his breath, and Taeyong isn’t sure what he’s laughing at. Maybe at the way Taeyong wriggles underneath them, or at the way he lets out a choked noise when Jaehyun strengthens his grip on his nape. When Jaehyun lets go, Taeyong gasps for air like he just resurfaced after being submerged in water.
“Bet you were just aching to be touched all day,” Johnny says as he kisses between Taeyong’s shoulder blades, digging his canines into Taeyong’s flesh and nibbling on it until it’s a splotchy red. He sucks intently and with purpose, quickly and effectively, leaves a spread of hickeys on the plane of Taeyong’s back like a system of stars. A constellation of marks on a wide expanse of skin. Johnny teases, “I saw how you were eyeing Yuta earlier. Are we not enough for you? You wanna be fucked and filled by someone else?”
“N-no,” Taeyong lies rather gracelessly because yes, he really does. Johnny makes a noise of disapproval and properly bites him this time.
“That’s not very honest of you,” Johnny says, punctuating his statement by sinking his teeth on a particularly sensitive patch of skin, worked to the point of tenderness. Johnny continues with a harsher tone, “We all know how fucking starved for attention you are, even when we give it to you constantly. You want us to fuck your slutty little hole all wide and open, right? Fill you to the fucking brim with cum? Let it drip down your pretty thighs?”
Taeyong makes a strangled noise in response to the words. The red tinge of his ears give Johnny a perfectly clear answer.
“Hmm, Johnny hyung,” Jaehyun chimes, interjecting to get Johnny’s attention, running his palms from the beginning of Taeyong’s spine down to the small of his back. Taeyong interprets it as preamble and shivers (in apprehension or anticipation, he’s not sure) and lets out a small little whimper. Jaehyun’s question comes out charming and pleasant, almost cloyingly so, “How do you think we should start?” Taeyong knows that it’s neither of those things under the veneer, behind the dimples and smile lines.
Johnny takes a moment to think. “With the plug,” is what he settles on, with the most nonchalant tone of voice. His words are loaded, and Taeyong should be wary because this is Jaehyun and Johnny he’s dealing with, but he nods furiously when Jaehyun spreads his ass wider, cheeks apart as Jaehyun rubs his thumb against his puffy red rim. It’s a weird sensation but Taeyong doesn’t complain. All he wants is relief, or not, because relief comes only after they’ve tormented the fuck out of Taeyong because it’s never that easy.
“Please Jaehyun,” Taeyong says simply, words choked and strained around each syllable. He must sound so pathetic right now. “God, please.”
“I don’t think we should take it out though,” Jaehyun says, and presses against the base of the plug so harshly Taeyong cries out. It’s so close to rubbing against his prostate, relief centimeters away from his fingertips, but it doesn’t and Jaehyun snatches Taeyong’s orgasm away right in front of his face. “I think it’s a little too early.”
“Do you think we should, Taeyong?” Johnny asks him with mock-earnesty. Taeyong mouths a yes and nods furiously. Johnny doesn’t seem to be satisfied with the response because he hums in the back of his throat and grabs Taeyong’s chin roughly, tilting his face and forces him to look at nothing else but Johnny. Johnny’s face, Johnny’s expression, Johnny’s eyes. The way Johnny makes him feel small. “You’re gonna have to beg for it then.”
Taeyong writhes under Johnny’s touch, fists his hands into the sheets and prays they indulge him, before rambling in a sob, “P-please. Yes, fuck, please take it out. I’ve been waiting all day, please.”
Johnny smiles at him and reaches between his legs to twist the plug inside of him, inching it out increment by increment, and he feels relief wash over him because fucking finally. Finally he can have some reprieve. Some of the lube from his ass oozes out and drips down the inside of his thigh. Johnny pulls it out even more, and the widest part of buttplug stretches his rim before tapering down again. The remaining lube squelches obscenely when Taeyong clenches around nothing and it splutters out. Johnny wipes the fluid away with his thumb before lining the plug up with his hole and shoving it back in roughly. “All day, huh? Well since you’ve already waited so long, you can wait a little more, can’t you?”
“No, Johnny, please—” Taeyong begs. His words slur against each other, saliva pooling his mouth, drooling precum onto the bed, a string connecting the tip of Taeyong’s cock to the small puddle beneath it. Taeyong’s head falls and his whine is smothered in the linen sheets. Johnny keeps moving the plug in and out at a slow rhythm, angling it away from Taeyong’s prostate, and it’s so agonizing Taeyong cries out, so carnal and depraved, so close yet so far from getting what he wants. The thrusts are slow and shallow, and Taeyong needs so much more. “God, please. F-fuck, I’ll be good, s-swear.”
“Then show us,” Jaehyun says, combing his fingers through Taeyong’s hair. Taeyong hiccups, wetness already beginning to collect in his eyes. He tries to blink and will it away, doesn’t want to break out into tears this soon. He arches his ass higher and is rewarded with a smack, trying to prove to them that he’ll be good. As good as they want him to be. Taeyong’s desperate enough right now that he’ll do just about anything they tell him, so needy after being worked so close to the edge, after being teased to no end. “On your back, baby,” Jaehyun tells him before he helps Taeyong flip over, spreading his legs before he can scramble to close them together to hide his cock from view.
“Oh, isn’t this a pretty sight?” Jaehyun coos, and a finger moves to flick at Taeyong’s cock again, harder than the first time. It jumps against Taeyong’s stomach, pathetically leaking a string of precum onto his navel. He’s so far gone that he whines at the way it stings, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehyun who does it again before gently running a fingernail up his shaft. Taeyong shivers with his entire body, heat coursing through his veins. “Your hair is almost as pink as your cock is,” Jaehyun points out, and Taeyong flushes even more out of embarrassment.
“Cute,” Johnny adds to the conversation (or what’s left of one, because Taeyong’s too winded to give a viable reply). He strokes Taeyong’s hair, hands gentle, and tucks a few strands behind his ear, staring at him out of admiration. Taeyong’s chest warms at the sudden affection, leaning into Johnny’s touch. “You’re so fucking cute. Makes me wanna eat you right up.”
“No ‘m not,” Taeyong slurs and whimpers when Johnny shoves a pair of fingers in his mouth. He sucks on them resolutely, moaning and wrapping his tongue around each digit. They swirl around his mouth, reaching for the back of his throat as if they’re searching for something. Taeyong willingly lets them, trying not to gag.
“Yes you are,” Jaehyun interjects, kissing at Taeyong’s collarbones, working his way down Taeyong’s chest until he reaches his tummy, lapping up the precum stuck to his skin. Taeyong wishes he’ll go further, wrap his mouth around Taeyong’s cock and suck him off. But he doesn’t, and murmurs into Taeyong’s skin, “So pretty for us.”
“Mhmm,” Johnny hums in agreement and slips his fingers out of Taeyong’s mouth. He suggests in that deep voice of his, less of a proposition and more of a demand, “You should blow me.” He shifts and parts his legs, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans before he tugs them part-way down his thighs. Taeyong’s eyes follow silently, observently.
“On your hands and knees baby,” Jaehyun says behind him, and Taeyong does just that. He listens intently and crawls between Johnny’s thighs, lifting his chin and rubbing the tip of his nose against the bulge of his boxers before pressing his wet tongue against it, hot breath all over it. He mouths at Johnny’s cock through the fabric, saliva seeping into the cotton, getting it all sloppy how he knows Johnny likes it. Johnny is only half-hard right now, but Taeyong can fix that easily.
Taeyong tugs Johnny’s boxers down until his cock springs free, hands unsteady, and Johnny fists his hand in Taeyong’s hair and rubs the tip of his cock along the seam of Taeyong’s mouth. Taeyong wraps his lips around his teeth before opening up and taking it in obediently. He starts by sucking the cockhead thoroughly, tongue swirling around the crown in messy circles. Johnny groans and Taeyong takes it as gratification. This is a skill that he’s confident in.
Johnny is fucking big. His cock weighs heavy in Taeyong’s mouth and could easily reach the back of Taeyong’s throat. Taeyong wraps a hand around Johnny’s cock to compensate for what he can’t take in his mouth, stroking as he works his way down. He takes as much as he can, gagging as he swallows as much of Johnny’s cock as possible. When he pulls off for air, creates a tiny pop with the suction of his lips for show, saliva pools in his mouth and creates a string from the corner of his lip to Johnny’s cock like a bridge between the them. Taeyong wonders what he looks like in this moment because Johnny moans, so loud and prominent it resonates in his ears. “Fuck, Taeyong.”
Taeyong pants for a moment before licking a stripe along the underside of Johnny’s cock, tongue pressed hot and messy right where the foreskin is pulled back from the glans, before gliding it up against oversensitive flesh, working up to the tip and digging his tongue into the slit. Johnny throws his head to the side and mutters sweet little praises. Taeyong makes a noise in content and wraps his lips around Johnny again, eagerly taking him deep in his throat while cupping his balls, moaning so Johnny can feel the vibrations. Taeyong bobs his head quickly, focuses himself on one thing and one thing only—getting Johnny off—until Jaehyun digs his fingernails into the flesh of Taeyong’s ass and his trance is broken, part of his attention redirecting towards something else.
“You’ve always been so fucking great at sucking dick,” Jaehyun comments and clutches the base of Taeyong’s plug. He pulls it out only a centimeter or two as if to tease and slides in his index finger right alongside it. Taeyong mewls around Johnny’s cock, small tremors against sensitive nerves. Johnny groans and Taeyong sucks more enthusiastically out of satisfaction, working harder to coax another reaction out of him, trying to push Jaehyun to the back of his mind. He fails, because Jaehyun piques his interest by proposing, “Since you’re being so good right now, I should take this out, right? Do you want that?”
Taeyong pulls off of Johnny’s cock to whine out a pathetic little, “Please.”
Jaehyun shows him mercy and obliges by tugging it in one go, slipping it out without hesitation, and the lube creates an obscene noise that Taeyong feels himself getting both embarrassed and aroused over. Jaehyun leaves a lot more to be desired when he slips a single finger in, and Taeyong would be thankful for Jaehyun sparing him the feeling of complete emptiness if he didn’t want so much more.
“It doesn’t seem like you’re loose enough,” Jaehyun comments before adding a second finger, rubbing at Taeyong’s walls but never in the direction of his prostate. Jaehyun pries his fingers apart and starts to scissor Taeyong open at a steady pace. It takes only a minute before Taeyong starts to fuck himself back onto Jaehyun’s hand, meeting Jaehyun’s shallow thrusts. Jaehyun clicks his tongue and stills his hips by holding him by the waist. “Be patient. You’re not ready yet.”
“Fuck, Jaehyun, I’m ready. I am,” Taeyong gripes, letting his head fall against Johnny’s thigh when Jaehyun scoffs at his response and refuses to listen. Jaehyun never gives Taeyong what he wants. He likes to drag everything out and force Taeyong to wait until he’s crying out, pushing him to the edge and yanking him right back as if he were on a choke chain. Jaehyun has superhuman levels of patience. He always takes his time and never rushes to fuck Taeyong like they both want him to. This time around, instead of indulging himself, Jaehyun adds in a third finger and Taeyong’s hole accommodates it easily. He exhales harshly when the fingers crook inside, just barely reaching his prostate, his breath hot against Johnny’s cock.
“Who said you could stop?” Johnny’s words come out cold and intimidating. He smacks Taeyong’s chin lightly to get his attention again. Taeyong perks up and glances at Johnny, who looks down on him with an expression that makes his cock twitch. Johnny exudes a different kind of dominance in comparison to Jaehyun, one that comes so easily and naturally that Taeyong thinks he was meant for this. It’s not overpowering, but it makes Taeyong want to relinquish all of his control, give Johnny absolutely everything. Taeyong can't help but admire the way it comes like second nature to him, can’t help the way his interest piques and his mouth waters.
Johnny doesn’t like it when Taeyong wastes time, and apparently Taeyong was taking too long to think because Johnny slaps his cock against Taeyong’s cheek like those actors do in porn, urging him to hurry on with it. Taeyong’s gaze snaps back to what’s really important, the way Johnny runs a hand through his dark hair and the way his eyebrow is raised at Taeyong, mumbling a small apology under his breath before taking Johnny back into his mouth and deepthroating as far as he can manage.
Jaehyun starts to quicken his fingers, swallowed down to the knuckles as he’s building a fast and consistent pace, one that has Taeyong reeling. He strokes Taeyong’s rim with his thumb, smoothing the pads of his fingers against the sensitive skin. It’s difficult for Taeyong to keep up when there’s two people trying to knock him off balance. He still manages though, throat abused and tears in his eyes. Jaehyun reams him open as Johnny brushes his hand through his hair, urging him on as he takes more cock in his throat.
Unexpectedly, Jaehyun slips out all of his fingers and Taeyong whines at the sudden emptiness. “Just give me a sec,” Jaehyun says and leans over to grab more lube from a drawer. Taeyong can hear the pop of the cap and the squeeze of the bottle. It takes Jaehyun not even a minute before he’s working his two index fingers back inside of Taeyong, stretching his ass wide. “Relax baby,” he tells him and Taeyong does just that, loosens his muscles and tries to adjust to the feeling. He jerks when Jaehyun takes him by surprise and spits right inside his hole, kissing his rim before running his tongue along the perimeter and slipping it in alongside his fingers.
Jaehyun only keeps it up for a minute, stopping once he got bored, fucking Taeyong with his tongue until he finishes with a nip, teeth sinking into flesh against the curve of Taeyong’s ass. He pulls his fingers out and gives Taeyong’s cheek another smack, not hard enough to hurt but enough for the sound to resonate through the room, fill the gaps of silence between Taeyong’s whimpers around Johnny’s cock and Johnny’s low grunts when Taeyong takes him particularly deep. Jaehyun swirls a finger around in the lube that dripped down Taeyong’s thighs and says, “Maybe I’ll eat you out later. You probably want to get fucked instead, right?”
Taeyong’s cock twitches in interest and his body shivers in excitement, a bead of precum dripping from his slit. He’s so hard it hurts, aching to be touched and fucked after holding himself back for so long. He slides Johnny’s cock out his mouth and dips his head, arching his back more so his ass lifts higher in the air, his cock sliding through the little puddle of his precum on the sheets. Taeyong wants it. All he wants is to get fucked.
“Yes,” Taeyong murmurs as Jaehyun smooths his hand over his ass, dipping the tip of his thumb into Taeyong’s hole to tease. Taeyong’s so loose that there’s absolutely no stretch, no friction. It’s not enough. Taeyong’s legs quiver and his voice shakes when he says, “Please, Jae. Want you to fuck me so bad.”
Jaehyun hums in satisfaction. “I will, baby.”
There’s a rustle and the hiss of a zipper before Jaehyun has his hands back on him, one on his hip and the other on his ass. Taeyong glances back at him through the corner of his eye and takes in the picture—Jaehyun, for the most part, is still fully dressed, but his hair is disheveled and it sticks to his forehead with the slick of his sweat. He virtually glistens in the dim light of the room, and moments like these never allow Taeyong to forget how stunning Jaehyun actually is.
Taeyong pries his eyes away and wraps his lips around Johnny’s cock again, sucking gently on the head, taking the image of Johnny in as he glances at him through his lashes. Johnny is in a similar state as Jaehyun, all worked up and unkempt. His hair is dark and his eyes are darker, staring Taeyong down in a way that’s so hungry, so full of lust it makes Taeyong’s mouth go dry. Taeyong purrs when his hair is yanked again, satisfied. Johnny pulls him off of his cock with a sharp pain in the scalp, grip firm and the set of his shoulders rigid. Even now, with his eyes blown all glassy and his cock resting in Taeyong’s palm, Taeyong is still at his mercy.
“Concentrate,” Johnny’s voice deepens this time, somewhere between disinterest and frustration. It’s so fucking hot, the way Johnny glares at Taeyong, that he almost stops paying any attention to what Johnny has to say altogether, too focused on the glint in Johnny’s eyes to mind anything else. Taeyong snaps out of it when Johnny speaks again, attention snapping right back to where it should be. Johnny says, makes it sound a little like scolding, “I shouldn’t have to tell you more than once.”
Taeyong picks up the cue and nods. Johnny slackens his grip and Taeyong drops his head, sucking with undisturbed focus this time, as ardently as he can. Jaehyun catches him by surprise when he lines up his cock, swirling his head around Taeyong’s rim to provoke him, to throw him off balance. Taeyong swallows Johnny as much as he can and chokes when Jaehyun pushes his way inside. The strangled noise that rips through Taeyong’s throat is almost humiliating.
“You’re so loose,” Jaehyun comments, and it doesn’t take any time or effort before he bottoms out. The slide of his cock is so easy inside of Taeyong, but it fills him in all the right ways, reaches all the right spots. Jaehyun moves, doesn’t bother to give Taeyong extra time to adjust when it’s not needed. He fucks Taeyong with shallow thrusts and grazes Taeyong’s prostate, just barely enough to make him squirm. Taeyong whimpers and saliva dribbles from his lip down Johnny’s shaft. Jaehyun laughs like he breaths, light and airy, and says, “Just like a little fucking whore.”
“You love getting it from the front and back at the same time so much. Such a fucking slut for us,” Johnny adds, and he’s right. Taeyong loves this shit more than anything. His cock twitches at the words. “Is it really that great? Getting fucked by two cocks like this at the same time?”
“You just love being used, don’t you babe?” Jaehyun asks with a sharp smack on Taeyong’s thigh. His hips speed up only marginally, allowing for only a light sound of skin slapping against skin. Taeyong struggles to nod with Johnny fucking up into his mouth, and Taeyong barely even knows what he’s agreeing to. He keeps sucking fixedly, only pulling off to draw a breath with a bob of his head, panting with tears in his eyes.
Taeyong almost chokes when Johnny angles his cock uncomfortably in his throat, hand in Taeyong’s hair again to hold his head in place, fucking his mouth without remorse. Taeyong presses his tongue against the underside of his cock and creates as much suction as he can, tears in his eyes as Johnny nearly gags him with every thrust. Before long, Taeyong’s jaw goes completely slack, letting Johnny have his way, letting Johnny use him. Just how he likes it.
Jaehyun fucks him languidly. He sinks his fingernails into Taeyong’s skin and slips his cock in and out with fluidity. Taeyong clenches around him with as much force as he can and Jaehyun groans, a pleasant sound to Taeyong’s ears. The rhythm Jaehyun builds is slow and relaxed, no hurry in his movements as if he were savoring every thrust. It drives Taeyong insane, the way Jaehyun takes his time. All he wants is for Jaehyun to push him to the brink and fuck him senseless.
Taeyong absentmindedly grabs onto his own cock, unsteady fingers finding purchase around himself. Jaehyun notices quickly, startling Taeyong when he grabs his wrist and snatches his arm away.
Jaehyun is stern. “No touching yourself, remember?”
“B-but—” Taeyong mutters as he’s sliding his tongue under Johnny’s cock, kissing down his shaft before working towards his balls. Johnny lets out a satisfied groan and Taeyong twists his head around to look at Jaehyun. “Please, Jae. I’ve waited so long, I’m so—”
“No talking back,” Jaehyun cuts him off and lands a smack on Taeyong’s thigh. Taeyong shuts up fast, a bit dejected, cock twitching at every slide of Jaehyun’s cock inside of him. After a while, Jaehyun’s relaxed pace becomes almost irritating. He always has his ways to tease Taeyong, to be cruel to him no matter what they may be doing.
“M-more,” Taeyong begs as he swirls his tongue around Johnny’s cock again, licking into the slit. He pleads, “Harder, Jaehyun. Please.” Taeyong doesn’t manage to get out any other words when Johnny shoves his cock back between his lips
Despite Taeyong’s request, his begging, Jaehyun still doesn’t oblige. In fact, it seems like Jaehyun doesn’t even bother to consider it because he’s still fucking Taeyong at the exact same rate as before, letting his cockhead catch on Taeyong’s rim before inching back in. Taeyong does a careless thing and lets his hand reach back down to his cock, fingers wrapping around himself in pleasant relief.
Jaehyun smacks his hand away immediately. “What did I just say, Taeyong? Hm?”
“T-That—” Taeyong answers after he pulls off of Johnny’s cock again with a lewd pop. Jaehyun leans down until his chest is almost flush against Taeyong’s back. He grabs onto the back of Taeyong’s throat, a predator trapping in its prey, and squeezes. Taeyong gasps when he finishes his sentence, “That I can’t touch myself.”
“But you were about to, no?” Jaehyun mumbles into Taeyong’s ear, voice almost a whisper, so quiet it probably escapes Johnny’s ears altogether. “Don’t overstep your boundaries. Be a good little cumslut for me and behave, okay? Or I’ll tie your little ass up.”
“I’m not against that at all,” Johnny chimes. Turns out he really could hear what Jaehyun said, or at least the final sentence. They always encourage each other’s antics, and Taeyong suffers the consequences. (But frankly, Taeyong isn’t all that opposed to being tied up either.) Johnny adds an almost affectionate, “You’re so pretty when you’re tied up.”
Jaehyun’s threat should be enough for Taeyong. He listens and deals with it for a few minutes, but with time he grows more and more selfish, more and more hungry, so much carnal desire building up inside him he wants to burst. Taeyong takes some liberties and lowers his hips, lets his cock fall against sheets. He grinds his cock down and prays Jaehyun doesn’t notice, nipples rubbing against the sheets, shifting back and forth as he fucks back onto Jaehyun’s cock and searches for friction. He moans especially loud as the familiar tingling sensation surfaces, overloading his nerves, burning through his synapses.
“Taeyong,” Jaehyun says in a rough tone as if in warning. The lack of honorifics would usually make Taeyong’s blood boil, annoy him to no end. But instead, warmth pools in his stomach, getting his skin all hot, setting him on fire. Heat rushes to Taeyong’s cock as Jaehyun finally begins to fuck him with long strokes, pulling out almost all the way before ramming back in. Taeyong doesn’t know if he can get any harder than this. Between Johnny choking him with his cock and Jaehyun filling him up, Taeyong feels himself getting dangerously close. Jaehyun maneuvers him so his ass is high in the air again, holding his hips in place as he says, “Watch it. You don’t get to cum yet.”
At this point, Taeyong isn’t listening anymore. Jaehyun’s hips quicken just enough to get Taeyong reeling, his cock shifting inside easily, and the slick of the lube allows him to rub at Taeyong’s walls with little resistance. Jaehyun moves again and angles his cock perfectly, hitting Taeyong’s prostate just right, rutting up against the sensitive little gland with each relentless snap of the hips. Taeyong almost suffocates himself as he’s blowing Johnny, taking frantic inhales through his nose before he slips Johnny’s cock out of his mouth and chokes on air instead.
Jaehyun’s cock reaches especially deep now, rubbing against all of Taeyong’s sensitive places, nudging at that sweet spot mercilessly, delicious pleasure coursing like blood through Taeyong’s veins. He’s fucking Taeyong at higher intensity now, grunting as he slams his cock in and out, a harmony of moans and squelches flooding the room. Jaehyun thrusts particularly hard and Taeyong sees fucking stars, galaxies, the entire damn universe flashing right before his eyes. He’s so close, dangerously close, but Jaehyun doesn’t let up the slightest. Taeyong cries out and his cock strains, jumping with each thrust, heat flooding every nerve in his body, tightening in the pit of his stomach, so ready to implode, and oh oh oh, he’s—
Taeyong cums without any warning.
His back arches down into the bed, sobbing and clutching at the sheets. He orgasms so hard his entire body shakes, pleasure washing over him in waves, has him quivering to no end. His vision blurs and fades out, grey to black, his chest heaving and cheek dragging against the linen as he twitches. Cum drips thick and white from his cock, plopping right into the patch of precum staining the mattress. Taeyong jerks as he’s coming down, rolling onto his back as he blinks away the haze in his vision, panting and gasping for air.
It takes far too long before he fully realizes what he had done.
Jaehyun’s hips have stilled, his breathing is quiet. Johnny glares down at Taeyong from above, so intense that Taeyong flinches and glances away when he meets Johnny’s eyes. Neither of them say a thing, just staring and staring to the point of discomfort. Taeyong sinks into the mattress, regret seeping into his bones. (Or maybe it isn’t regret that’s eating him alive, but some twisted sense of anticipation. They’ve conditioned him to be like this, have him right where they want him.)
They’re going to fuck him up.
“Taeyong,” Johnny breaks the silence. There’s such little emotion in his expression that it makes it difficult to tell what he’s thinking. Taeyong doesn’t answer, doesn’t speak a single word. He ducks his head to the side and looks away to hide his face, but of course that doesn’t change a thing.
“What the fuck did you just do, Taeyong?” Jaehyun asks with harsh words, but his tone is casual and hardly accusatory. Taeyong’s so fucking turned on it’s affecting his judgement, mind all hazy and clouded by lust. He swallows the thick lump in his throat, holds back from answering with something snarky like his own name. Instead, he keeps quiet, avoiding any careless instigation. Jaehyun runs a threatening hand over the top of Taeyong’s thighs and all of a sudden, it seems foreign and unfamiliar.
“You did something really, really bad,” Johnny states the obvious. He looks almost bored, disinterested right now as he’s staring down at Taeyong with this look, one that makes Taeyong feel so fucking small and inferior that it snatches his breath away. Johnny’s voice is a low drawl when he speaks, reiterating everything again to rub in the fact that Taeyong stepped out of line, “Cumming without permission is against the rules.”
Taeyong’s tongue darts out. The extra emphasis on the final word warrants a lot of things Taeyong can’t even begin list. All of the things they’re willing to do to him. The twisted part of him quivers in expectancy, urging him to mouth off and be brattier, egging him on like a little devil on his shoulder. He wants more, wants them to be mean to him, to choke him out and degrade him, to leave him all marked up and bruised. They’re always somewhat cruel when it comes down to it, when Taeyong pushes them there.
Maybe, maybe Taeyong feels like being a little bad. Maybe he wants to break a rule.
Taeyong opens his mouth in complaint despite knowing better, responding breathlessly in a bout of stupid irreverence, “I-I didn’t mean to.”
The silence that comes is unsettling. Disquieting. Taeyong doesn’t have to have some sort of psychic ability to know that they’re caught of guard.
“Does it matter if you meant it or not?” Johnny quirks an eyebrow. There’s something menacing in his gaze, sharp like razors. Taeyong would be dishonest—lying right through his fucking teeth—if he said he didn’t get off on the way Johnny’s glaring at him. “Think twice before you speak, sweetheart. Unless you wanna get put in your place.”
“B-but,” Taeyong protests a little foolishly, a little masochistically, multiple pitches too high. He emphasizes each word with a whine for effect. “This isn’t fair, I didnt—”
Jaehyun moves so quickly Taeyong almost gets whiplash. There’s a hand around his throat, constricting, wringing the oxygen out of his windpipe. (Taeyong catches the way he fucking smirks when Taeyong gags, struggles to take a breath. He knows Taeyong gets off on being choked.) He says smoothly, chastising Taeyong in a way that makes him squirm, hot and low against his ear, “What have we said before about talking back?”
“It’s not—i-it’s not allowed,” Taeyong answers when Jaehyun loosens his grip, gasping for air between syllables. Jaehyun pays no mind to the way Taeyong coughs, cocking his head to the side and fisting a hand into Taeyong’s hair, yanking Taeyong forward so he’s looking right into Jaehyun’s eyes. The glare Jaehyun has makes Taeyong feel hot all over.
“What the hell are we gonna do with you?” Jaehyun’s expression is still perfectly calm, that meticulously maintained poise of his, contrasting the roughness in the way his hands constrict around Taeyong’s throat like day and night. He chides Taeyong in a way that’s almost snarky, not angry but amused, toeing the line between being playfully teasing and outright sadistic. “Why the fuck is there a rule against talking back in the first place, hm? We’ve been over this a thousand times. You should know by now right? Answer me.”
Taeyong feels like he’s being verbally pistol-whipped. He’s at a loss for words, and when he takes too long ponder, there’s a tap to his cheek, something like a threat, signaling him to respond. The way he stutters out a response is rather embarrassing, and he thinks he hears Johnny laugh. “O-only bitches talk back.”
“And are you a little bitch?” Johnny asks in Jaehyun’s stead this time, low and calm but threatening. Taeyong’s eyes flit over meet Johnny’s, glancing at him through his eyelashes. Yes, I’m yours, Taeyong thinks in the back of his mind but doesn’t voice it. He goes for the answer they expect out of him instead, and shakes his head without a noise. Johnny furrows his brows.
“Speak,” Jaehyun instructs, smooth. Easy. He doesn’t waver. “Good boys reply properly.”
“N-no,” Taeyong answers rather gracelessly. The pads of Johnny’s fingers glide up Taeyong’s jugular, running along his jaw until moving to stroke at his cheek. Taeyong fully realizes at this point that there’s not much he can do to remedy the situation, that he’s in no place for objection. “I’m not.”
“You sure about that, babe?” Johnny says in a way that doesn’t even sound angry, or upset. It sounds patronizing, condescending in an entertained kind of way. He speaks to Taeyong without a single blemish in his composure, a smile curling on his lips. Taeyong’s so turned on he’s dizzy. “What happened to being all whiny and cute, begging to cum not even ten minutes ago? And now you think you can act all bratty? You think you can get away with that? You’re really pushing it today.”
Taeyong doesn’t respond, doesn’t really know how to.
Jaehyun clicks his tongue when Taeyong falls silent, arm moving to grab onto Taeyong’s chin, holding his jaw in place with enough force to leave bruises. “Open up,” he instructs, and Taeyong widens his mouth quickly. Jaehyun leans down, arm flexing when he angles Taeyong’s face towards him, so close their noses graze. Taeyong thinks Jaehyun’s about to kiss him but he spits right into Taeyong’s mouth instead, all thick in Taeyong’s mouth. A string of saliva drips from Jaehyun’s lips to Taeyong’s.
When Jaehyun lets go, Taeyong’s jaw clenches and he swallows, so high on pleasure and how owned he feels. He’s so drunk on the way they have him cornered, how rough they are with him, he tosses all semblance of pride and shame away, lets the insistent sense of carnal desire seep through the cracks.
Jaehyun sits upright to allow room for Johnny to lean down as well, and Taeyong willingly parts his lips. Johnny and Jaehyun like to do things together, to maintain their strange sense of balance, and apparently something like this is the kind gesture they want to share. Johnny spits more quickly and directly than Jaehyun does, sliding a finger into Taeyong’s mouth to hold it open. Taeyong sucks on it absently, swallowing down all the saliva when Johnny slips his finger out, dragging his finger down Taeyong’s chin, leaving a trail of spit in its wake. Taeyong pants and Johnny cocks his head to the side, angling his lips right against Taeyong’s, licking his way inside Taeyong’s mouth.
“Look. You can be good when you try,” Jaehyun says with a scoff, nudging at Taeyong’s cock with a finger. Taeyong reacts with a whimper, too sensitive for even the slightest touches. When he gives Taeyong’s cock a light slap, Taeyong flinches and breaks his kiss with Johnny, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to tear skin at the sensation. “Too bad you like being a bratty fucking boy who doesn’t listen.”
Taeyong whimpers. It’s so fucking sexy, the way Jaehyun’s gripping onto Taeyong’s waist hard enough to bruise, pressing him down into the mattress and holding him in place. Taeyong loves how rough Jaehyun can be, how he gets Taeyong to submit. It’s so much different from how he usually is in everyday life outside of the sexual context.
Jaehyun, by nature, is sweet and kind, soft eyes and laugh lines. Taeyong finds the contrast funny almost, how much Jaehyun settles into character when they have sex. Before, Jaehyun fucked Taeyong like he was made of porcelain, fingers laced with Taeyong’s and hands gentle against Taeyong’s skin. He was never as rough with it, and it was never enough.
It wasn’t until Taeyong begged around Jaehyun’s fingers about how he wanted Jaehyun to be mean to him, make him cry, did things change. The first time Jaehyun properly made Taeyong cry, fingers around Taeyong’s throat hard enough to choke him out, he panicked and broke the persona immediately, hands scrambling to find purchase on Taeyong’s, kissing his jaw and pressing apologies into his skin. Taeyong told him it was fine, that this is what he wanted.
But now, try after try, Jaehyun’s fully settled into this character, tossing Taeyong around without any delicacy or consideration, just how Taeyong likes it.
Jaehyun slaps Taeyong’s cock again, a little harder and sharper. Taeyong jumps, gasping, closing his legs in recoil before readily opening them again, desperate to have Jaehyun’s touch all over him. Johnny laughs when Taeyong whines, spreading his legs wide with his reddening cock on display, begging Jaehyun to touch him more in a silent plead. All Taeyong wants is for them to get more worked up, to throw him around. He wants them to leave marks all over his skin, even in the visible places the stylists will scold him for—down his neck and his collarbones, his chest and his arms. He wants them to have their way with him.
Taeyong gradually gets hard again, too ridiculously oversensitive to hold himself back. Johnny notices quickly because he’s always been ridiculously perceptive, aware of every small detail about Taeyong, each change in in his demeanor. Johnny fucking sneers when he says, “Are you getting off on this, sweetheart?”
Taeyong flushes and averts his gaze, staring at the specks on the ceiling in attempt at ignoring the way Johnny’s chuckling. Jaehyun’s hand snakes around Taeyong’s cock and he jumps, bits of his cum smoothing out the friction so it’s just a delicious slide. Taeyong licks his lips and tries to focus on anything but the way Jaehyun is touching him, twisting his cock roughly. Jaehyun chimes when he moans particularly loud, “What a fucking slut. You just came and you’re already getting hard again.”
“Jaehyun and I haven’t even gotten the chance to cum yet,” Johnny mentions as he brushes away the clumps of hair sticking to Taeyong’s forehead, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand. Jaehyun stops jerking Taeyong off. “Just can’t get enough, huh?"
Jaehyun adds with a mock-pout, “We’ve been waiting all day too, you know.”
“You want us to let you cum a second time?” Johnny asks an obvious question. Taeyong nods frantically, desperate and honest, slipping back into that headspace, the one where he wants to be owned, to be used thoroughly by them. There’s hands all over him—on his chest, his thighs, his navel—but not where he wants them, on the hot red neglect sitting flushed on his stomach. All he wants is stimulation, friction on his cock and against his prostate. He wants and wants and wants, but they don’t give it to him.
“Oh, but you’ve been so bad,” Johnny says, and he’s the one giving another light slap to Taeyong’s cock this time. It’s not enough to be painful, but Taeyong closes his legs immediately on instinct, squeezing his thighs together. He’s fully hard and embarrassed now (and as much as Taeyong loves attention, being under the scrutiny of Johnny and Jaehyun like this warrants a lot of humiliation, and that sort of thing is difficult for even Taeyong to fully welcome). Johnny coos, “I don’t think you deserve it, Yong. How will we know you won’t act up again?”
Johnny’s tone is relaxed and unceremonious but his expression, the way he’s glaring at Taeyong carries all the sentiment. It makes Taeyong all hot, a shiver running up his spine and goosebumps raising on his skin. He cracks easily under pressure, and his unconscious desire to listen, to be good for them has him swallowing the lump in his throat and deciding to obey. “I won’t—I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”
“But are you really, baby?” Jaehyun and Johnny both stare at him pointedly. They know he’s sorry, and he knows they know, but they keep pushing further, egging him on. In moments like these, they’re privy to all of Taeyong’s thoughts. Fully aware of every little manifestation in Taeyong’s mind, all muddled into a haze of lust and want. Taeyong can’t hide anything from them when he’s like this, completely laid bare in front of them. They’ve always been able to pick up on Taeyong’s idiosyncrasies and they use that in their favor, dragging Taeyong’s frustration out until he cries out and begs to cum. They have him right where they want him.
“Y-yes,” Taeyong affirms with a shaky voice. There’s no point in putting up any kind of resistance. “I am, I’m sorry. Really. I promise, please.”
And there’s a long stretch of silence instead of a reply, no real acknowledgement because they love messing with Taeyong. Jaehyun makes a noise in the back of his throat, a finger on his chin so it looks like he’s in thought, contemplating if they should give Taeyong what he wants.
“Johnny hyung hasn’t gotten his turn yet,” Jaehyun points out of nowhere, eyebrows raised and eyes bright, directing his to Johnny who’s a little dumbfounded. Johnny perks up like he’s forgotten, grinning a stupid grin. He’s playing coy. Taeyong knows he is.
“We should do something about that,” Jaehyun says in a hum. He tugs Taeyong into a sitting position by the upper arm, just enough forcefulness that Taeyong lifts with ease. Jaehyun gazes down at Taeyong with an eyebrow raised. “This is your chance to prove yourself, baby. You wanna show us how sorry you are? We’ll think of a punishment for later, and if you’re good, we’ll go easy on you, okay?”
Taeyong answers like an echo with a shy, quiet little, “Okay.”
The corners of Jaehyun’s lips quirk up just a bit, and some of the tension in Taeyong’s body eases. Jaehyun glances over at Johnny who doesn’t have a single worry on his mind, no care in the entire goddamn world. “How do you want him?”
Johnny furrows his brows together in thought for seconds too long. As if it mattered. “Hands and knees,” he says with finality, with certainty. “Like before, because Taeyong likes getting fucked from the back, right?”
Taeyong coughs, face turning red at that comment. It’s not far from the truth.
He listens to Johnny intently, getting on all fours quickly, arching his back in a way he knows they like, one that makes him look all pretty and tempting. He waits and cranes his neck to get a glimpse of Jaehyun, and then Johnny. They’re both still fully clothed, and Taeyong becomes awfully aware at how naked he is. Johnny palms Taeyong’s ass, kneading the flesh between his fingers, and pulls Taeyong’s cheeks apart. He whistles obnoxiously in appreciation, and Taeyong feels more like a fucktoy than ever. “So pretty.”
All Taeyong wants is for Johnny to get on with it, nudging his hips back so his ass pushes its way into Johnny’s lap. Johnny gives it a spank, hard enough to leave Taeyong’s skin tingling, before he shifts and finally there’s a cock pressing against Taeyong’s entrance. Johnny never makes things easy, though. He swirls his cockhead around Taeyong’s rim, runs his cock through the cleft of Taeyong’s ass. It takes Taeyong whining and pushing his ass back against Johnny, a silent beg, before Johnny finally has the benevolence to press his cock inside.
The stretch isn’t any more difficult with Johnny than it was with Jaehyun. He slips inside of Taeyong easily, encompassed with heat, stretching him open in all the right ways. When he bottoms out, Taeyong mewls so high he doesn’t sound like himself anymore. He loves it, loves that Johnny’s so fucking big, loves that Johnny fills him up so well.
Johnny fucks him with quick and rough strokes. He doesn’t even bother to start slow and build his way up, slamming his hips into Taeyong relentlessly from the very beginning. Taeyong holds himself still, doesn’t move a single muscle as Johnny drags his cock all the way out, the tip of his cock slipping right out of Taeyong’s ass and prodding at his rim before he rams back in. Taeyong yelps when Johnny thrusts hard enough to drive him forward, face dragging against the covers.
“Suck me off,” Jaehyun says with a tap against the side of Taeyong’s head. Taeyong lifts his chin to oblige but Johnny’s already flipping him over onto his back, so swiftly and suddenly that Taeyong screws his eyes shut out of surprise. Johnny’s cock slams into his prostate and he throws his head back, baring his throat, and the thought of Jaehyun slips his mind altogether.
“Sorry, Jae,” Johnny tells him with a weird smile, something not quite remorseful but not entirely inconsiderate either. “You already had your fun.”
“You’re kind of a brat too, hyung,” Jaehyun says with a scrunch in his nose, follows it up with a laugh that’s free of any bitterness, clean and refreshing, summer skies and sunlight puddles. Taeyong opens his eyes and gets a glimpse of Jaehyun—dimples and sweat-slicked skin, reaching down to tug his shirt off. Taeyong gets an eyeful of smooth, milky skin, broad shoulders and lean muscle, and his mouth goes dry. “It’s okay. I can wait.”
Jaehyun settles with letting Taeyong rest his head against the inside of his thigh, shocks of pink rubbing against Jaehyun’s navel. He runs a tentative hand through his hair, unusually tender of him when they’re having sex. But Jaehyun’s not an actor, and Taeyong supposes it’s hard to stay in character at all times, to maintain the sharp edges constantly.
Johnny is slamming into him without any thought or deliberation now. His hips stutter and his eyes are dilated, blown wide and glassy. He’s all knitted brows and a flurry of grunts, fucking Taeyong with so much fervor Taeyong knows he’ll bruise, won’t be able to walk for a week straight. Taeyong’s so fucking hard again, worked up over the idea of being thoroughly used, Johnny driving him closer and closer to the edge with each thrust. “I want you to say my name. Can you do that for me?”
“Ngh!” Taeyong bites back a sharp moan as Johnny fucks him, unfaltering, hip bones proding the flesh of Taeyong’s ass, blooming red as Johnny’s skin meets his. He gasps for air and whimpers, losing his grasp on reality, the tethers slipping through his fingers, “J-Johnny.”
Johnny hums in satisfaction. “Keep saying it, babe.”
“Johnny,” Taeyong mewls, the name rolling off his tongue with ease, each syllable like honey. Johnny presses a kiss to the corner of his lips, following with a growl when Taeyong’s hole clenches down on his cock. Taeyong moans his name like a prayer, repeats it like a mantra over and over, “Johnny Johnny Johnny—”
“Good. You’re so good,” Johnny utters, small praises against Taeyong’s cheek, down his chin and along his jaw. Taeyong reaches his arms out, wrapping them around Johnny’s neck to pull him even closer. Johnny slots their lips together properly, and it morphs into something sloppier, saliva dribbling down Taeyong’s chin. It’s gross and it’s messy, and Taeyong should hate it, but he likes messy when it’s like this. Taeyong’s cock rubs against the line of Johnny’s abs as he’s getting fucked, pressed between their navels in tight heat. Taeyong whines into Johnny’s mouth at the sensation.
Johnny murmurs words against his lips, strings of syllables that form phrases like such a slutty boy for me and you feel so fucking amazing around my cock. Taeyong wants to say something in return, tell Johnny how much he loves his cock in him, how he wants Johnny so deep he’ll feel him in his stomach. But only desperate little moans escape him, spitfire repetitions of Johnny’s name over and over like it’s the only thing he’s capable of saying, so high pitched his own ears struggle to recognize them, and he sounds so wrecked beyond repair. Too wrecked to speak.
“I’m getting kind of bored, hyung,” Jaehyun’s voice breaks Taeyong’s trance. Johnny slips out of Taeyong’s arms and pulls away, straightening his back. Taeyong frowns at the loss of contact, but Johnny pays no mind to it and glances back up at Jaehyun. He gives a signal instead of speaking, chest heaving as he points at Jaehyun and then to Taeyong, specifically at Taeyong’s mouth, and makes an upside down peace sign with his fingers. Taeyong doesn’t understand the implications at first, stares at Johnny in confusion, but Jaehyun gives an instantaneous look of naive realization in return as if he’s pieced everything together, figured out all of the discrepancies in the universe. As if the planets have all fucking aligned in his head.
Not even a second later and Jaehyun moves to straddle Taeyong’s chest, thighs on either side of Taeyong’s head, and tips Taeyong’s chin back almost uncomfortably far. He grabs ahold of his own cock and nudges it against Taeyong’s lips, and finally Taeyong understands what Johnny was trying to communicate. Taeyong parts them accordingly for Jaehyun’s cock to make its way inside his mouth. Jaehyun hums in satisfaction, voice bright when he says, “We’ll do it like this.”
The angle is awkward but Taeyong manages somehow. He cranes his neck more, allowing Jaehyun to slide in just a few inches before pulling out. He slurps methodically, running his tongue on the underside of Jaehyun’s cock, kissing along the shaft before Jaehyun leans forward enough for Taeyong to give attention to his balls. When Jaehyun shoves his entire cock in at once, fast and without warning, Taeyong gags only a little. He’s not phased at all anymore when Jaehyun reaches the back of his throat, lets his cock stay there for moments too long as Taeyong breathes through his nose and takes it without trouble.
Jaehyun matches Johnny’s pace and fucks Taeyong’s mouth in rhythm with Johnny’s hips. Johnny doesn’t miss a single beat, and neither does Jaehyun, continuous and unwavering as they work Taeyong into hypersensitivity. It’s so overwhelming Taeyong doesn’t move an inch, letting them use him like this, in whatever way they want.
Johnny’s thrusts are haphazard and shallow now, his rhythm becoming more frantic. Taeyong clenches down for Johnny and hollows his cheeks for Jaehyun, tightening his lips and adding more suction. Jaehyun moans (and it’s so, so fucking pretty) and murmurs, “Good boy.” The praise and the gentle tone warms Taeyong’s chest, serves as encouragement.
There’s a particularly husky groan from Johnny as he slows down to catch a breath. He’s heaving, wind knocked out of his lungs, waiting patiently for Johnny continue. But instead, Johnny’s cock is seated inside of Taeyong in an unsatisfying way, nudging away from his prostate. Johnny’s hand travels between Taeyong’s legs, fingers ghosting along the length of Taeyong’s cock before moving their way to Taeyong’s hole. Johnny’s thumb pulls back the redness of Taeyong’s rim, pressing against sensitive tissue. Taeyong clenches and relaxes. Johnny stares as if in a trance, thinking.
“Jae,” Johnny sighs, hips still at a complete pause. He raises an eyebrow at Jaehyun, giving him a curious look and receiving one from Jaehyun in return. Strands of black hair fall into Johnny’s face, and it makes him seem more dark and intimidating, even though nothing about his demeanor changes. Jaehyun’s interest is piqued, and Johnny is smiling. Taeyong swallows thickly, apprehension stirring like a heavy storm cloud. “He’s really loose. Wanna try putting it in together?”
Taeyong’s blinks as the words settle, his mind short-circuiting for a moment. He doesn’t realize the actual meaning of Johnny’s question until Jaehyun removes his cock from Taeyong’s mouth and shifts until he’s no longer straddling Taeyong’s shoulders. Jaehyun fucking grins from ear to ear, and Taeyong finds it both endearing and unnerving at the same time. Jaehyun responds to Johnny with an eyeroll and a sarcastically playful voice, “Of course I do.”
Johnny laughs and pecks Jaehyun on the lips, a rather rare occurrence, before leaning down to swipe his tongue across Taeyong’s bottom lip and licking his way inside of his mouth. The way Johnny kisses Taeyong is sloppy and haphazard, drool dripping from the edge of Taeyong’s lips, until Taeyong’s sure his lips are all swollen and red. He feels all of his oxygen slip away, lungs emptied until he’s gasping. Johnny asks when they part, “What color are you?”
It doesn’t take much contemplation for Taeyong to decide on his answer. Maybe he’s a little punch-drunk right now, but he’s been down for the ride this entire time. “I’m green.”
Johnny hums and finally starts peeling his t-shirt off, cock slipping out of Taeyong and leaving him all empty. Johnny is just so—broad. He’s tall and the set of his shoulders is wide, all sweat-slicked skin and taut muscle. Taeyong gets an eyeful as he kicks off his jeans and drags his boxers off, tossing them into the void somewhere at the edge of the bed.
Taeyong gets a good look of Johnny’s cock in this moment—so hard, curving up towards his stomach, all glossy and tempting from lube. Taeyong’s own cock jumps in interest, his last functioning brain cells malfunctioning, so overexcited for Johnny to get back inside him. Jaehyun works on taking his pants off as well, and his cock is just as pretty, all pink and swollen and slick with Taeyong’s saliva. In moments like these, Taeyong realizes that his depravity really knows no bounds.
“Promise you’ll behave this time?” Johnny asks with a sigh. There’s an exasperated tone to the words. Taeyong rolls his eyes at Johnny’s expression, and any seriousness in the atmosphere dissipates with the way Jaehyun scoffs and laughs. They both settle themselves in their respective places on the bed. Taeyong is no longer the only one fully naked. It makes him feel a bit less self-conscious, less hyper-aware of his own nudity. “You’re okay with this?”
Taeyong still nods. Two smiles light up the dim room instead of just one. “Great.”
Taeyong only manages half an exhale before Johnny hoists him up into his lap. Their limbs jostle until Taeyong is sinking back down on Johnny’s cock with their chests flattened against each other, skin burning against skin. Taeyong wraps his arms back around Johnny and clings to the rigid set of his shoulders, shifting to adjust Johnny inside of him. There’s so much heat and perspiration between them that it’s gross, honestly, but Taeyong doesn’t bother to pay it any mind. Taeyong’s erection brushes against Johnny’s stomach, painfully hard and raw, and he sobs.
Johnny litters kisses against Taeyong’s cheek as Jaehyun slides in a finger alongside Johnny’s cock, tugging to stretch Taeyong’s rim. It isn’t too overbearing at first—Taeyong relaxes and takes it without difficulty, and Jaehyun promptly adds a second finger, and then another after that. The slide isn’t as smooth anymore. Jaehyun starts rub at Taeyong’s walls as Johnny begins to move his hips again. Jaehyun’s arm flexes as he reaches deeper inside, sliding in and out with the rhythm of Johnny’s cock.
Jaehyun keeps this up for another minute until Taeyong mumbles, breathless, “It’s okay now.”
Johnny blinks. Once, twice, thrice. “Really?”
Taeyong takes a deep breath, all two-hundred-and-six bones in his body falling into place as Jaehyun lines himself up with Taeyong’s hole. When he cautiously eases his way inside, Taeyong can physically feel the strength draining from his body, each joint and muscle giving out all at once. Taeyong fixes his gaze on the ceiling and not on the burn of being stretched like this for the first time, clenching his jaw hard enough to break bone. Johnny kisses a patch of skin, licking and sucking over the spot on Taeyong’s neck before he bites down hard enough to draw blood, distracting pain with pain. Jaehyun nuzzles the space between Taeyong’s shoulder blades, plants a kiss against the raise of his spine when the feeling of being pried open subsides and it’s just dull stretch, blunt pain. “It’s in.”
“Hurts,” Taeyong croaks, panting so loudly he can barely hear himself think.
“It’s okay. You did good,” Johnny mutters the small praise into Taeyong’s skin. Neither of them move an inch to allow Taeyong to adjust. It’s a struggle, because Taeyong’s not used to being so full, being pushed to his limits like this. It feels like he’s been split in two, and it has him so torn between pain and arousal he’s dizzy. “Took us so well, baby.”
Jaehyun hums in agreement and urges Taeyong on too. “I knew you could do it. You’re so great at taking cock, babe. You’re doing so well.”
And that’s all Taeyong really needs for reassurance, for the final push until he’s down for it completely. Johnny grabs onto both sides of Taeyong’s hips and kisses his temple. “Tell us when you want us to move,” he says as Taeyong combs a hand through his hair before gripping tight, living ink woven through unsteady fingers, motioning Johnny closer to slot their lips together.
“Now,” Taeyong declares immediately when he pulls away to breathe. Johnny’s eyebrows raise in surprise, or confusion, or both. “You should start moving now.”
“Are you sure?” And there’s so much genuine concern in Johnny’s demeanor, in the crease of his brow and the inflections of his voice. Taeyong knows that Jaehyun’s staring holes into the back of his head too, can imagine the worry in his expression. Suddenly Taeyong’s whole body warms up. He feels so—secured? Acknowledged? Loved? Perhaps all three at once, he doesn’t really know.
Taeyong swallows the lump in his throat and allows himself a moment to think things through, to catch his breath. Being stretched like this definitely takes a toll on him. The fact that Jaehyun is big, and Johnny is even bigger, most certainly doesn’t help the burn, the friction, the feeling of being so full Taeyong thinks he could break. But Taeyong loves it. He loves the pain, and he loves Johnny and Jaehyun, so he makes up his mind easily. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“You finally gonna be good for us?” There’s an annoyed groan from Taeyong and a punch of laughter after the question. It takes no time before there’s giggles from all three of them, not just Johnny. It alleviates the tension, washes the worry away and makes room for Taeyong to breathe.
Taeyong nods and lets his head fall against Johnny’s shoulder, still giggling. “Yeah, I am,” he says, and he lets them have all of him.
They start slow. Jaehyun bites down onto Taeyong’s neck as he begins to move first from behind, cautiously sliding his cock out of Taeyong before pressing back in again. It’s a lot to process—the stretch, the sharp pain of Jaehyun’s teeth in his flesh, Jaehyun’s cock rubbing against his inner walls. Taeyong holds each inhale he takes and counts each exhale he lets out. He breathes a sigh of relief when Jaehyun’s all the way out, giving Taeyong a few seconds to catch his breath, and sputters a broken moan when he’s nudging his way back in again. Tension in, tension out.
“You okay?” Jaehyun asks when Taeyong falls back against Jaehyun’s chest, concern threaded in the lilt of his voice. There’s so much for Taeyong to take in, his senses completely overloaded, but Jaehyun is considerate, cautious of overstepping Taeyong’s boundaries. Taeyong can’t help but giggle when this side of Jaehyun shows during sex, the side of him that caters to Taeyong’s needs so unquestionably. There’s some things that will never change. Taeyong nods—he’s so fucking turned on it’s unbearable, so giddy and lightheaded from pleasure he can’t think properly anymore. Jaehyun’s concern still shows. “You can take it?”
“Mhmm,” Taeyong hums, lifting his hips to urge Jaehyun on, clinging to Johnny like a life preserver. Jaehyun takes a sharp inhale and Taeyong braces himself. He yelps when Jaehyun snaps his hips into him sharply, picking up the pace. The change is so drastic it knocks the oxygen out of Taeyong’s lungs, has him choking around nothing. Jaehyun fucks into him quick and relentless, rhythm unsteady, rubbing against Johnny’s cock in a way that has him groaning into Taeyong’s ear.
Taeyong cries out every time Jaehyun rams back in, so awfully aware of each slide of Jaehyun’s cock, of the searing heat of having both of them inside him. It requires all of Taeyong’s will and self-control not to touch his own cock, to finally give himself what he needs, but he knows better than to step out of line a second time. Johnny provides an adequate distraction, kissing away each of Taeyong’s erratic, bated breaths, swallowing his heady little moans whole.
“P-please,” Taeyong whines into Johnny’s mouth, but doesn’t even know what he’s begging for anymore, delirious need muddling his thoughts. He begs over and over like a benediction, syllables a slur on his tongue, “Please please please.”
“Please, I just—”
“Use your words, baby.” Jaehyun smooths his palms over Taeyong’s sides, fingertips brushing his ribs before moving to rub his nipples. Taeyong twitches, too sensitive and aware of every small sensation, every miniscule feeling that has him reeling.
“More,” he chokes out, too drunk on the pleasure to think straight. There’s no way he could piece his thoughts together when they’ve got him wrapped around a finger like this, split open on their cocks and pushed to the limit. “More, more, I’m so—.”
“More what? What’s wrong baby?”
“Yongie,” Johnny coos. His voice is fond, tender with Taeyong’s name, but he pouts and sports this look of obliviousness on his face, trying to coax an answer out of Taeyong. “You gotta be more specific, or how will we know?”
“Johnny hyung is right,” Jaehyun concurs, a sly upturn playing on the corner of his lips. The two of them have the same unholy tendency to tease, to pretend they don’t know what Taeyong wants. They make him beg and whine until he no longer has the words or the mental capacity for it anymore, so frustrated and so depraved that his walls come crashing down, a mess of tears in front of them. “Tell us what you want, baby.”
“F-fuck me more,” Taeyong pleads, and it’s impossible for him to flush any redder than he already is, embarrassment prickling under his skin, heat raising in his cheeks. He hates it, and he hates begging, but in this moment, he’ll do anything for them to give him what he needs. He swallows thickly, because hesitance is the last emotion he needs to feel. “Harder, faster, more. W-want you to fill me up and fuck me fast because i-it’s not—it’s not enough.”
There’s a laugh, but Taeyong’s too concerned with how worked up and hard he is to determine who it was, too occupied with how Jaehyun’s hips are still at a complete pause, leaving Taeyong even more frustrated, caught up on how badly he wants to cum and how they’re not letting him. Taeyong ignores the slight hysterical lilt in Johnny’s voice when Johnny echoes him, acting surprised, “It’s not enough?”
“No.” Taeyong shakes his head frenetically, groaning in frustration because Johnny must be be fucking joking because there’s no way it could be enough. Taeyong gripes, voice raw and raspy, quivering around each syllable, “Of course it’s n-not.”
Jaehyun chuckles with amusement as if something about this situation is funny. Taeyong doesn’t need to be facing Jaehyun to see the smirk working its way onto his face as he says, “Getting two cocks shoved in your little hole isn’t enough for you? You need us to fill you up even more? Aren’t you being a little greedy?”
Taeyong whines, exasperated out of his mind. Johnny quirks an eyebrow when he squirms, grinding his hips down as a way of answer, a way of proving his point. He prays they finally get the message with the way he croaks, “S-shut up and get on with it. Please.”
Jaehyun scoffs and Taeyong doesn’t get out another syllable before both of them start moving. The position isn’t the most comfortable but their cocks reach deep, stretching and splitting Taeyong open as they go. The lube helps with the friction sufficiently, just enough to dull down the sting, smoothing it out into a pleasant pain that has Taeyong keening. Taeyong shivers, drunk off the feeling, jaw going slack and head tipping back until he’s baring his throat. Johnny sucks on the skin of his neck, right at the jut of his Adam’s apple, tongue wet and hot on Taeyong’s jugular. Their makeup artists won’t be happy with the large, splotchy mark Johnny leaves, but Taeyong can’t find it in himself to care.
Taeyong tries to concentrate on something, anything as they pick up speed. There’s too much stimulation, too many sensations for Taeyong to even respond to. The red hot swell of being widened, the wet slick of each uncoordinated thrust, the press of skin on skin, coated with sweat. Taeyong hiccups when Johnny abruptly hooks his arms under Taeyong’s thighs and hoists him up, hitches him higher for easier access. He synchronizes with Jaehyun and they figure out a rhythm—Johnny pulls out as Jaehyun’s thrusts back in and vice versa—not giving Taeyong any room to catch a break, no leeway for him to breathe.
Taeyong doesn’t know what the hell to do—with his hands or his arms, his legs or his feet, or any part of his entire fucking being—and he’s just fumbling, struggling as he finds purchase on some tangible expanse of flesh, arms draping around Johnny as he’s being held up. His fingernails dig into Johnny’s back, dragging and clawing away at skin and tissue and sinew, raising red streaks in their wake as he’s being fucked. Johnny kisses along the width of his chest before his mouth is all on Taeyong’s nipple, sucking fixedly until Taeyong falls forward against him out of oversensitivity, arms straining to get a tighter hold of Johnny.
Taeyong hates being clingy. He hates it when he can’t keep his hands to himself, when he can’t help but reach out and draw them close. He hates feeling so depraved, so desperate and candid and open like this. Like his entire being and entire soul is sprawled out, free for scrutinization. They have him so forthright and honest, not a single thought or emotion left to hide. Johnny and Jaehyun have him trapped, backed into a corner where he gasps for breath. It’s something like pressing himself against the sun, or a moth immolating itself in fire. He feels so much heat around him it’s suffocating.
Taeyong has no mental strength left to pay attention to the way he’s sobbing, the way he moans like he’s been starved for touch for years. His words are mixtures of oh and fuck, combinations of random syllables amongst stutters and whines. He’s drowning out the sharp grunts from Jaehyun and the low groans from Johnny, so loud and unreserved, too occupied with the two cocks inside of him to watch his volume.
Jaehyun ruts into Taeyong particularly rough when he tries to lift his ass up, letting out a filthy moan against the shell of Taeyong’s ear (and holy shit, does it make Taeyong feel some type of way). The way Jaehyun angles his cock stretches Taeyong’s rim even further, and Taeyong knows he’ll be especially sore from that, if not from everything else. Taeyong chokes out a string of short-winded repetitions of faster faster faster that sounds so foreign and pathetic it would otherwise be painful to hear. Taeyong has no idea how his voice manages to crack when he whispers, “M-more, more. Do it faster, a-anything, please.”
Jaehyun catches on first and grinds his cock inside, rubbing up against Johnny in a way that has him gasping for a moment, before building more speed. Johnny picks up the pace as well, and they’re fucking into Taeyong in such rapid fire succession Taeyong can’t even count each thrust. Taeyong buries his face into Johnny’s neck, nose nuzzling up against his collarbones as Jaehyun grabs onto Taeyong’s shoulder to hold him in place. Taeyong’s cock is rutting against Johnny’s navel (or hip, he can’t tell, but he knows for sure that the area is slick with his precum). It’s such mild, dull stimulation that Taeyong chews on his lower lip in frustration as he stirs the tiniest bit that he can, searching for better leverage and a means to give his drooling cock attention.
Johnny and Jaehyun match their timing and fuck into Taeyong at the same time. They have him crooning, crying out like a bitch in heat, body bending into a tight, tense curl. Electricity runs through Taeyong’s nerves, shooting down his spine, his senses so overloaded he can’t tell left from right anymore. Their strokes are long and deep and Taeyong’s sure he’ll feel this for a month straight, but they fuck him without much thought, settling with an awkward and haphazard angle that’s just not enough. Taeyong wriggles and writhes, trying to shift the angle until it’s just right, just how he likes it, because all wants is for them to hit his prostate and oh—
A cry rips right out of Taeyong’s throat, so loud it resonates through the room, breaks through the thin walls of their dorn. They pause and Taeyong inhales so sharp and deep his lungs could burst, but he still feels short of oxygen.
“T-there,” Taeyong keens, screwing his eyes shut as Jaehyun (or Johnny, because he honestly has no fucking idea anymore) rams right into Taeyong’s prostate roughly enough for him to nearly cum right then and there. His limbs go slack, lips parted in a gasp, weight falling back against Jaehyun whose grip is the only thing keeping him steady. The wave of pleasure that hits Taeyong has him jerking in their hold, cock twitching as he braces himself for the next thrust. “Fuck. Fuck, r-right there. God, there there.”
“Here?” Jaehyun pulls out as Johnny’s cock fucks back in hard, has Taeyong seeing stars, and Taeyong clutches onto Johnny’s upper arm with a force that could crush bone.
“Yes yes yes,” Taeyong chants, staring up aimlessly at the ceiling as Jaehyun pushes his way in, as they both fuck Taeyong senseless, tears in his eyes and drool dripping down his chin. He doesn’t even want to imagine how he looks right now, all ruined and marked up, blotches of red scattered on his skin like rose petals, so, so needy for them.
“I wanna—” he pauses mid-sentence when Jaehyun wraps a hand around his cock, grip loose and slow as he tugs him on the upstroke. It’s something like telepathy, how Jaehyun knows exactly what Taeyong needs, and Taeyong’s grateful beyond words at how Jaehyun is willingly giving it to him. The heat in his stomach is tight, coiled like a spring. His thighs shake and his muscles contract, so fucking close to reaching orgasm, chasing it with every weak bounce of his hips, fucking his cock up into Jaehyun’s fist, falling back down onto Johnny and Jaehyun’s cocks in rhythm. Jaehyun grips onto the base of Taeyong’s cock tight, constricting, painful and Taeyong yelps. The way Taeyong begs comes naturally this time, rolling off his tongue mindlessly, “I-I wanna cum so bad, oh my—please. F-fuck, please let me cum. I’m so close, please please please.”
“How bad?” Johnny asks into his skin, all soft and velvet, and Taeyong has no clue why he’s so caught up on the way Johnny had to ask, to pretend that he doesn’t already know. Taeyong feels such a strange convolution of emotions rising in his chest, his heart in his throat. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, so delirious and overwhelmed to wrap his mind around anything anymore, and maybe, just maybe, he’s on the verge of—
“So bad,” Taeyong mutters without even articulating his thoughts or what he wants, and he realizes moments too late that he really is crying now, a minute too slow to stop and hold himself back. A hand—Johnny’s, probably, because of how big the palm feels when it cradles Taeyong’s face—wipes at the tears gently when Taeyong screws his eyes shut. Taeyong shrinks under Johnny’s touch, doesn’t want them to see him crying. They’ve seen everything already, witnessed Taeyong in every other state he could possibly be in. But this—this, has Taeyong mortified, off kilter, has him feeling the most diminutive he’s ever felt. The smallest he’s ever been.
“It’s okay, baby,” Jaehyun soothes, stroking his hands along the stops of Taeyong’s thighs before resting on his hips, holding him steady. The gesture is so soft and placating, steadying Taeyong as he still fucks him. Johnny does too, but at a slower pace. They fall out of synchronization but Taeyong still jumps with each thrust, and there are still tears. But Jaehyun still reassures him, “You’re okay.”
Taeyong’s been driven so deep into this headspace that the sniveling doesn’t stop. Johnny has his hands on both sides of Taeyong’s face. He pecks Taeyong’s nose, the patch of skin right under where his eyelashes hit the top of his cheek, his temple, the smoothness of his forehead. Taeyong takes a moment to ground himself, blinks once, twice, after cracking an eye open again. Johnny is staring at him so fondly it makes his heart jump. Taeyong wants something, and Johnny knows, sees right through him like glass, crystalline clear. “What is it sweetheart?”
Taeyong’s answer is honest, and the way he stutters is honest too, “I r-really, really w-wanna cum.”
“Do it then,” Jaehyun responds, soft and doting, and Taeyong has never been so thankful to hear a combination of three words in his entire life. Jaehyun coos, grip loose as he’s jerking Taeyong off with deft fingers, one hand twisting on the downstroke and the other rolling a palm over the head of Taeyong’s cock. Taeyong moans, something wrangled and loud, unrestrained incantations of their names—random chants of Johnny and Jaehyun between irregular breaths. He hiccups and snivels. Johnny is still caressing his face, urging him on as he bounces his hips, shivering as they hit his prostate, rutting up against that sweet spot over and over.
The distant feeling of release floods Taeyong’s body, courses through him like electric shocks. Jaehyun’s hips haven’t stopped for even a second, and neither have Johnny’s, even now with the wetness in Taeyong’s eyes, cocks pulling out almost the way. They strain Taeyong’s rim as he’s still attempting to accommodate the girth, because there’s no way he could ever get used to this, no way his fragile little body could ever adjust. He’s complete putty in their hands, every bone in his body rendered useless, and he’d topple right over like a house of cards if they weren’t supporting him like they are. Taeyong’s inching closer to the edge, and Jaehyun murmurs low and hot in his ear, “Cum for us, sweetheart. You’ve been so good.”
And fuck—the praise. The praise has Taeyong absolutely keening, could make him cum right that instant with the way Jaehyun croons it into Taeyong’s ear. A few more strokes of Jaehyun’s hand and Taeyong does. His entire body tenses, goes completely rigid as he bucks, heat spreading from the tight knot in his stomach to the rest of his body as he convulses, gasping as if he were resurfacing for air after almost drowning.
Taeyong spills all over Jaehyun’s fingers, the few spurts of cum he manages coating his cock a shiny and translucent white as Jaehyun rolls his cockhead under his palm. Taeyong chokes, writhing as Jaehyun keeps rubbing him through his orgasm, nerves on fucking fire as Jaehyun keeps going and going. Taeyong shifts and his weight falls back on Jaehyun. Johnny fucks him slow and shallow, just as Jaehyun does to allow him to catch his breath. Taeyong manages a final pathetic spurt of cum and Jaehyun smears it everywhere, down the skin of Taeyong’s shaft until he’s all sleek and glossy.
All Taeyong wants is to get a gulp of air, to free himself from the tightness in his chest, the strain of his lungs. But Taeyong never gets what he wants, and he can never catch a break. By the time his breathing evens out and drowsiness starts licking at his eyelids, they’re pulling him back by the tethers.
This should be enough. This should be the end of it, but Jaehyun’s hand never moves away. Taeyong doesn’t realize it’s there until there’s burning hot friction against the skin of his cock, obscene little noises from the way it’s squeezed in Jaehyun’s palm, slippery with his cum. Taeyong’s jaw tightens at the wetness, the heat, the firmness of Jaehyun’s hand as he jacks Taeyong off, rough enough it almost hurts. The corner of Jaehyun’s fingernail digs into the slit of Taeyong’s cock and Taeyong jolts, squirms in the tight space between their two chests. It’s excruciating. Words fall on deaf ears when Taeyong pleads, “Sto-stop, I can’t—”
“One more time, baby,” Jaehyun murmurs into Taeyong’s nape, his hand still wrapped around Taeyong’s softening cock. Confusion settles itself into the furrow of Taeyong’s brow quickly, and Jaehyun doesn’t need to even see Taeyong’s face to know of Taeyong’s bewilderment. There’s a chuckle from Jaehyun, and Taeyong can imagine that sly curl of his lips like it’s been imprinted onto the insides of his eyelids. “You still haven’t gotten your punishment, remember? I think this a suitable one. You can do it, right?”
“B-but,” Taeyong opens his mouth to protest because his cock all raw and tender after cumming twice now (and he can’t fucking take this), but he shuts it quickly when Johnny shoots him a look that’s not quite a glare, but a warning nonetheless. He’s not in a position to be acting up.
“‘s that fine with you, hyung?” Taeyong thinks Jaehyun’s speaking to him for a split second until he catches how Johnny’s eyes flit upwards. They trade glances and Johnny nods, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with the heel of his palm. Silent interactions like these are rather unsettling for Taeyong, because subliminal exchanges call for subliminal thoughts, and subliminal thoughts call for subliminal actions. Jaehyun makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat before he hoists Taeyong up. “Great.”
“This is what you get for being so bad earlier,” Johnny states as Taeyong settles back into an upright position, both of their cocks still seated inside. Johnny announces it as if Taeyong needed clarification, rubbing it in because that’s just what they do. Taeyong screws his eyes shut when Jaehyun’s fist clenches, constricting his cock, and it’s just too much. His hands scramble and grasp onto Jaehyun’s wrist, gripping in a weak attempt to coax Jaehyun into letting go. Jaehyun chuckles, and Taeyong has no strength left in his body to even adequately move his arms, nevermind yank Jaehyun from his cock.
Eventually, Jaehyun’s hand loosens, and Taeyong realizes that he forgot to breathe when he chokes trying to inhale. Taeyong’s vision is bleary, and he tries to rapidly blink it away. He quickly hides his face into Johnny’s shoulder, but Johnny still notices. His nose presses into Taeyong’s hair when he plants a kiss onto the top of Taeyong’s head, voice softer than silk when he says, “It’s okay. No more tears, baby.”
And maybe, just maybe, Taeyong melts at that. Johnny’s hand snakes between Taeyong’s legs and wraps around the base of Taeyong’s cock, makes him twitch and writhe. Johnny strokes him a little off beat from Jaehyun, more slow and gentle in comparison, but having twice the number of hands and twice the number of touches has Taeyong’s brain malfunctioning, all cum-dumb and muddled with pleasure.
At this point, Taeyong’s just cockwarming because they’re not fucking him anymore. Johnny and Jaehyun are too occupied with getting Taeyong off again that they have no concern for themselves, giving Taeyong all of their attention, fingers rubbing against Taeyong’s most sensitive spots—his slit, the skin right under his cockhead, the connect between his balls and his taint. It’d be a complete understatement if he simply called this being overwhelmed.
No, Taeyong’s almost at his absolute limit. He’s hard again, cock so responsive and body so pliant, so yielding for the two of them. The way Jaehyun rolls his palm over the head combined with the way Johnny roughly squeezes around the base of Taeyong’s cock has Taeyong fidgeting, fucking up weakly into Jaehyun’s hands, half of him too depraved for it and the other too sensitive to handle it. It’s almost unbearable, how quickly and easily they’ve worked him into this state again, pleasure so electric and hot, pooling in his belly and the base of his throbbing cock, and suddenly he wants to cum again.
“C-can you two, uhm—start m-moving again, I—” Taeyong gasps out each word, a little spacey and dumb, searching for stimulation in any form he can find it in. He lets out short staccato breaths as Johnny grips onto Taeyong’s thigh with his free hand and fucks up into Taeyong without warning, churning his insides again, the filthy squelch of lube making filling the room, a noise that falls familiar onto Taeyong’s ears. Jaehyun starts thrusting in time with Johnny as well, pulling all the way out before fucking back in, perfectly in sync with Johnny as they slam into him at the same time. It starts to get too much, too soon, and every working muscle in Taeyong’s body gives out.
“I’m close,” Jaehyun announces, finally after all this time, voice on the verge of breaking as he strokes Taeyong’s cock unsteadily. Johnny’s hand is off of Taeyong at this point, has a tight grasp on the curve of Taeyong’s ass, fingernails digging into the already red and tender flesh to the point of stinging. Jaehyun’s hips grow erratic, a little uncharacteristically haphazard and graceless as he falls out of rhythm with Johnny (because Jaehyun’s nothing if not controlled and poised). The way Taeyong grinds his hips down is too meager to make a difference, too spent to lift himself up properly before dropping back down. Johnny helps Taeyong out and lifts him up just a bit, adjusting until his cock rubs against Taeyong’s sweet spot.
Now, Jaehyun is fucking Taeyong at a faster speed than Johnny, two of Jaehyun’s thrusts for every one of Johnny’s. Taeyong finds himself falling back against Jaehyun again, lost in the pleasure, attention divided between Jaehyun jacking him off messily or the way Johnny’s ramming back into him with twice the roughness of Jaehyun. Taeyong thrashes when his prostate is angled against perfectly, all milked and abused. Jaehyun’s arms wrap around Taeyong to hold him in place, hips stuttering and breath hitching, small grunts right into Taeyong’s ear, sending him all the right signals. Jaehyun starts a sentence he doesn’t manage to articulate, but Taeyong knows exactly what he means, “Fuck, I—”
“Inside,” Taeyong murmurs when he manages to somewhat piece his thoughts together, and Jaehyun listens. He cums inside of Taeyong’s hole in white hot spurts, filling Taeyong as he fucks through his orgasm, holding Taeyong so close against his chest it makes it difficult for Taeyong to breathe. Jaehyun’s moans are so lovely, smoother than velvet when he’s pulled apart at the seams, and Taeyong can barely stop himself from gushing, can’t help the way his heart nearly leaps out if his chest. Jaehyun manages a few final strokes before he slips his cock out and Taeyong’s left feeling a little on the side of empty, even with how big (and very much still hard) Johnny is.
Jaehyun shifts and sits next to Johnny, fringe falling into his face with his movements. Jaehyun smiles sweetly, running a hand through his hair. His lips are glossy and his eyes glitter, and the sight is too pretty for Taeyong’s heart not to flutter. Jaehyun gives an encouraging pat to Johnny’s back, who takes the signal and runs with it, fucking Taeyong at such a fast rate he can’t brace himself for each of Johnny’s thrusts before they’re already hitting him.
Taeyong gasps when he feels Jaehyun’s familiar grip around his cock again, working his fingers along the shaft, smoothing the pad of his thumb against his slit. Jaehyun coos at the whimper Taeyong makes, “You wanna cum again, sweetheart?”
Taeyong’s reply comes out strangled, “Y-yeah, Jae, please. ‘m gonna cum soon.”
“You can cum whenever you’d like. Whenever you want want, baby,” Jaehyun croons, his free hand roaming down the stretch of Taeyong’s belly, touch heated right at Taeyong’s navel as he’s working Taeyong’s cock to completion. He’s right at the edge and too loopy to speak or think, Johnny’s mouth suddenly on his, open and wet as he sucks on Taeyong’s tongue, rolls Taeyong’s lower lip between his teeth. “You’ve been such a good boy for us.”
Jaehyun pinches Taeyong’s cockhead hard and he gags on air, breath stifled in his lungs as he clenches down on Johnny’s cock. Maybe Taeyong’s going crazy, that untamed, licentious voice in his head talking again, but it hurts so fucking good, the pain spreading throughout, his mind in a haze like he’s high off it. Johnny growls and he’s fucking into him faster, quickening after each subsequent thrust, lifting his hips to aim right for his prostate. Taeyong fists the sheets beneath him just for the sake of grabbing onto something, clutching so hard his knuckles turn white.
“Please,” Taeyong whines, because he’s gotten used to saying it over and over, not pleading for anything in particular. His eyes are screwed shut, every muscle in his body tense and rigid because he’s so close, chasing the orgasm so desperately. Begging feels so humiliating but so familiar on his tongue, makes him all hot and red from his chest to his ears. He keeps it simple and settles on the one word he knows best, voice breaking as it comes out in strings of, “Please please please.”
“Please what?” Jaehyun asks with such a gentle and doting expression on his face, a dimpled smile and crinkles around his eyes. It contrasts with the way Jaehyun’s hand constricts on his cock, a shred on the side of too harsh and rough for him to comfortably respond. Taeyong doesn’t answer, and there’s a click of the tongue and a light slap at his cock that has his hips jerking forward. Jaehyun’s being so fucking mean again, simply ignoring every attempt at protest Taeyong makes, paying no mind to any complaints or the way Taeyong’s lower lip juts out in a pout.
Johnny’s pressing up against Taeyong’s prostate relentlessly, hitting his sweet spot just right, and Taeyong’s completely spent, the hurried pace way too much for him to handle. Johnny’s hand moves to press him into the mattress, not quite on his throat but not quite on his shoulder either, thumb rested on the curve of his collarbone. Taeyong’s cock slaps against his stomach as Johnny’s fucking him hard enough to have him sliding up the mattress. Jaehyun jerks him off quickly, somehow in perfect time with Johnny’s irregular pace, not particularly concerned about anything.
Johnny has nails digging into the dip of where Taeyong’s thigh meets his hip. His concentration is impenetrable, brows furrowed so firmly the expression might be a permanent imprint on his face forever. He’s close. Taeyong knows he is, and Jaehyun does too because he giggles and murmurs into the shell of Johnny’s ear with a singsong kind of lilt, “He wants it harder, hyung. Wants you to fuck him up.”
Johnny moans, loud and guttural, a noise that makes the blood rush to Taeyong’s cock in shameless interest. It shouldn’t be that easy to work Johnny up, but Jaehyun does it effortlessly. He hums, knows he’s successful because in a split second, Johnny’s pinning Taeyong down with even more force, eyes like a car crash as Taeyong fumbles to grab a hold of something. Jaehyun laughs and Johnny falls the slightest bit out of rhythm. Maybe Johnny’s annoyed, irritation laced somewhere in his expression. He’s the type that hates getting distracted.
Or maybe, he’s really, really close. Taeyong can’t tell precisely which, perhaps a bit of both, unable to pick up on the nuances when he’s knocked so far off his orbit. Johnny utters something underneath his breath and Jaehyun simply hums. Taeyong’s gaze slingshots between the two of them, out of loop, not quite sure what to fixate on. It settles on the way Johnny’s tongue darts out before he takes his lips between his teeth, maintaining his adamance, focus so sharp and calculated it could cut glass like butter.
Johnny has such ridiculous stamina, Taeyong can’t help but notice, wondering just how long he’s lasted. Taeyong’s thoughts tie themselves into knots, completely unsure of approximately how much time has passed since Jaehyun came, since Taeyong first came, since they’ve started having sex, since this entire sequence of events even began. Those thoughts fall through his fingers like sand when Johnny hits his sweet spot with perfect precision, heat so tight and delicious at the pit of his stomach, but so overwhelming Taeyong borderline screams.
Taeyong cums a third time before Johnny even cums once, scrambling to swipe Jaehyun’s hand away. His body seizes up, back arching tighter than a bowstring, cock straining pathetically as he cums so hard his vision blurs, completely dry, his world going black for just a second as he tries to recover. It hurts—Taeyong’s so overstimulated that it’s painful, thrashing and squeezing his thighs together. He lies on the bed panting and lifeless, twitching all over even as his breathing evens out, taking everything that Johnny dishes out on him.
Johnny says in the midst of Taeyong’s loud gasps, “I’m close too.” Taeyong takes a few moments to register the words as he’s coming down from his high, knocked dizzy and blissful, waiting for his world to realign. He reaches out to Jaehyun, making little grabby hands with his fingers. Jaehyun giggles and takes it, molding their hands together like plasticine. The gentle hold of Jaehyun’s hand contrasts the way Johnny’s biting down roughly into Taeyong’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. Jaehyun’s thumb draws soothing circles into the back of Taeyong’s hand. It’s natural, familiar intimacy. It’s something Taeyong could never get sick of.
Johnny really does fuck Taeyong up just like Jaehyun said. His strokes are long and deep and too quick for Taeyong to brace himself for, ramming into Taeyong continuously. Taeyong fixates his attention on the ceiling and takes all of it, all of Johnny’s pent up aggression, lets Johnny chew him up and spit him right back out. Taeyong loves it when Johnny gets like this, when he loses himself in that familiar carnal want, all of his composure thrown out the window and left there to die. The slide of Johnny’s cock is so easy, so wet and lewd and without resistance. Taeyong finds himself getting lost in it.
Johnny cums with his jaw clenched, hips stuttering, teeth digging into the supple flesh of Taeyong’s neck and a large hand gripping onto Taeyong’s hip hard enough to bruise. Johnny empties himself out inside of Taeyong, paints him white inside and it’s so much, so hot and warm and obscene, making Taeyong feel like the filthiest little thing on earth. Taeyong would never admit it out loud, but he loves the feeling of cum inside him, warmth flooding into his body until he’s fucked so full of it he’s delirious.
Taeyong pants almost harshly, a breath of finality, a sigh to punctuate the end. Every muscle and joint in his body aches, but in a heady, satisfying way, one that he can’t bring himself to complain about. Maybe he’s just that drunk on pleasure, intoxicated on Johnny and Jaehyun and how they always fuck him so well, how they know him inside out like the backs of their hands.
Taeyong just lies there, sticky and sweaty and full of cum. Johnny slips his cock out and kisses up the line of Taeyong’s jugular, mapping a pathway along his neck. The noise Taeyong lets out is broken and gravely from the soreness of his throat, worn raspy and raw. It’s satisfying though—the buzz and the lethargic drag of his eyelids, the pleasant ache that washes everywhere throughout his body. Taeyong isn’t aware of how much time passes before Jaehyun shakes him by the upper arm, nudging him awake (or as conscious as he can be in this state). Taeyong snivels. There’s dried tear streaks on his cheeks.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jaehyun says with a mild voice and an easy smile. Taeyong’s so lost, absolutely drowning in his headspace as a pair of hands move to hoist him up. The firm grip Johnny has on Taeyong’s arm grounds him and his mind clears up a little, enough for him to connect the dots and process what’s happening. “I’ll go draw a bath.”
“Mm,” Taeyong makes a noise reminiscent of a hum in response, a pleased and sedated sound in his chest. He sits there motionlessly for a few minutes, all the noise and movement around him blurring together. He doesn’t know how much time passes until there’s hands on him again. Taeyong can’t help but shudder at how cold they feel.
“Come on, babe,” Johnny mutters before helping Taeyong roll over onto his stomach. There’s a shuffle and soft footsteps. Taeyong almost dozes off, sleep licking at his eyelids, but Johnny uses this moment to slip Taeyong’s plug back inside, pushing its way past Taeyong’s rim with little resistance. The noise Taeyong makes this time resembles a yelp, or a hiccup, suddenly awake and whining into his arm as Johnny presses the base so it’s completely inside of Taeyong. It’s a feeling Taeyong’s almost completely accustomed to, his hole so stretched out and encompassing, swallowing the plug up whole.
“Wouldn’t want the cum to go to waste so soon, do you now babe? Yongie likes feeling completely full, right?” Johnny coos, nuzzling his nose against Taeyong’s cheek before pressing a kiss along the line of his chin. Taeyong melts—the feeling of being babied like this after getting his brains fucked out is nice sometimes. Johnny wipes away the cum drying on Taeyong’s tummy with a wet towel before sitting him up straight. Taeyong whimpers in response and Johnny’s smiling. “Can you stand?”
Taeyong shakes his head in a daze, and chivalry definitely isn’t dead with the way Johnny quickly moves to help him. He stands Taeyong up on his feet, guiding him effortlessly, whispering small praises against his hair. Sudden affection blooms in Taeyong’s chest, warmth right behind his ribs because he’s weak for things like this, for the small gestures and the way they cater to him so well. In moments like this, Taeyong feels like he really does fit with them.
The feeling leaves as fast as it comes because right as he thinks he has the strength to stand on his own, his knees give out so quickly it’s almost startling. Johnny laughs as Taeyong tries to walk with a limp, stumbling over his own feet. Any other time, Taeyong would be embarrassed or annoyed, but instead, his gaze fixes on the crinkles of Johnny’s eyes as he laughs.
Johnny’s eyes meets his and it takes far too long for Taeyong to realize that he’s been fucking gaping. Johnny’s grinning as he’s staring back at him, letting Taeyong use him as support to stand. Johnny reads like an open book sometimes, and right now, Taeyong knows exactly what’s going through his head.
“Shut up,” Taeyong says with mock-venom, and there’s nothing but love.
Johnny throws his hands up in defense. He pulls a dumb expression that Taeyong has gotten very, very familiar to seeing. One that Taeyong wants to wipe right off his face. “I didn’t say anything.”
Taeyong narrows his eyes. He probably looks like an idiot doing so because Jaehyun always laughs at him, tells him he fails miserably when he tries to be intimidating. The look Johnny gives him communicates exactly that, but Taeyong will still try. “I could hear you fucking think.”
Johnny rolls his eyes, lets out something between a scoff and a giggle. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Come on,” Jaehyun interjects, standing at the doorway, gesturing at them to hurry with a complacent hand. Both of them perk up at the same time like a couple of puppies. “The water is ready.”
Taeyong replies sweetly, “M’kay.”
Taeyong nearly trips on his way to the bathroom because tripping is his thing, apparently, a small little yelp ringing high in the air. Johnny takes this chance to lean in closer, breath on Taeyong’s neck in a way that makes him quiver. Taeyong’s fight or flight response engages itself and he’s suddenly very, very hyperaware of Johnny’s figure behind him. All Taeyong wanted to do is live his life in peace, but the universe is clearly out to get him because there’s fingers ghosting over his ass and toying with the base of his plug. Johnny decides to be a complete piece of shit and whispers right into the shell of his ear, “Be careful not to let the this fall out or the cum will get out and water will get in your pretty little ass.”
Taeyong turns around so fast his neck could snap, mouth opening to protest but nothing comes out. Johnny’s grin is so bright it could blind.
“Well,” Johnny starts simplistically and places a hand on his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Jaehyun and I are all worn out, so the other members will have to fuck you instead. But maybe you’ll like that.”
“I’m gonna—” Taeyong stutters, flushing from his face to his chest in absolutely no time at all. He gets almost as red when he’s upset as when he’s embarrassed, and in this moment, he laments it more than anything in the entire damn world because he knows that’s what Johnny’s giggling at right now. Taeyong tries to form a viable threat but nothing adequate comes out. “Holy shit, fuck you.”
There’s a snide answer, one that snipes Taeyong right off his soapbox before he even steps on it, rendering him speechless, “You literally just did.”
Johnny barely manages another blink before Taeyong smacks him as hard as he can on the arm, which turns out to not be very hard at all because Taeyong has not a shred of strength left in his entire damn body. Taeyong's completely red in the face. Johnny bends himself over laughing.
Taeyong wakes up from his sleep to the sound of chatter beyond the walls and a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. His entire body aches as he shifts, sore in places he didn’t know he could even be sore in. Jaehyun is cozied up to Taeyong from behind, his nose nuzzling Taeyong’s nape. Johnny’s got an arm draped over the two of them, pulling them closer in a simple gesture of intimacy.
He’s thankful that this bed isn’t as cramped as their old one. Johnny’s uselessly long legs used to take up all of the space and Taeyong couldn’t move when he’s sandwiched between them. Right now, they’re in a comfortable tangle and Taeyong wouldn't have it any other way. His face is right in Johnny’s broad chest and his ass is fitted right against Jaehyun’s hips, his soft cock pressing into the flesh of Taeyong’s cheek, and maybe, maybe Taeyong’s mind concerns itself with only that one fact because he’s a fucking abomination. Taeyong finds himself getting all hot thinking about it, so he tries his best to ignore it and will the thought away.
Taeyong nearly jolts into a sitting position when he notices the sunlight outside of the window—they’re never up this late because of constant schedules, shaken awake at ungodly hours by either an obnoxious alarm or their even more obnoxious manager—but he relaxes right as he remembers that it’s their day off. Still, Taeyong has a knack for getting up early, as much as he likes the proximity of Johnny and Jaehyun pressed up against him. He pries himself out from in between them and almost elbows Jaehyun square in the face as he does so. Both of them both groan in unison as they shift, still lost in sleep.
Taeyong ruffles his hair and stumbles on his way to slip on a pair of fresh boxers. There’s the expected soreness at the base of his spine, pain spreading up his back. Taeyong doesn’t let it bother him though. He straightens his posture and gets his walk down, that casual maintained saunter he’s mastered to fool the other members. As he approaches the door on his way out, he notices a post-it note pasted right above the handle. Dread punches him in the face so fast he almost gets whiplash.
The note reads as follows in familiar sloppy handwriting:
Please keep it down next time. I was in the next room trying to sleep. :) -Mark
The combination of the smiley face and perfect punctuation is the most passive aggressive thing Taeyong thinks he’s ever seen. He almost dies from mortification right there, a puddle of flesh and bones at the foot of the door, wailing into the floor.