Taeyong - Unprotected sex
Both Taeyong and himself are cautious, responsible men. Overly so, sometimes. Taeyong worries about anything and everything, his leadership a reflection of how much he cares for the safety and wellbeing of those around him. He’s always checking in on the boys, always there as a shoulder to cry on, always a pillar of support. Kun, meanwhile, finds himself more concerned about the future; he wants to prepare them, especially the younger ones, for the world. He plans and organizes, and then adapts as best he can when it all goes awry because the boys are almost always more interested in the fun of the moment than the consequences.
Kun doesn’t think too deeply on the consequences of this though-- not with Taeyong needy and pink-cheeked, a low, rasping “please, wanna feel you” punctuated by long fingers tugging desperately at the buckles of his stage outfit. Crammed into a supply closet, with the rest of the group barely a room away getting ready to go back to the dorms, is not a smart time or place to do this. Neither of them came prepared. But Taeyong wants , and the sight of it is enough to make Kun forget he knows better.
Taeil - Undressing
Taeil smiles patiently, catching Kun’s gaze in the mirror, the colour-dusted skin on either side of his eyes creasing with benign amusement, which really only makes Kun’s fumbling worse. His fingers feel far too big for the tiny hook-and-eye fasteners keeping the bodice together.
He breathes a sigh of relief when the last hook comes undone, and then immediately has to suck it back in when the dress slithers down to pool around Taeil’s ankles. Kun goes to step away but Taeil is lightning fast, curling his hand around Kun’s wrist and drawing Kun’s clenched fist around to the front of his body. He peels each finger back, one at a time, until Kun’s nail-dented palm is spread open. Taeil places it on his lower abdomen, right over the black lace of his garter belt, and smooths his own hand down over Kun’s to flatten it to his body. Kun’s entire arm tingles.
“I think I’ll need help getting the rest off too.”
Johnny - Spanking
He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being mortified by how much he likes this. Johnny doesn’t judge him for it, of course. He’s tried to talk Kun out of his embarrassment on more than one occasion, telling him it’s “pretty common” and “actually really hot that you’re into it”. It doesn’t help though. Every time he ends up bent over Johnny’s lap, ass in the air, Johnny’s strong arm securing him in place, he has to hide his face while his dignity wars with his arousal.
Arousal always wins, especially after Johnny lays the first few smacks across his cheeks. By the end of it, the sweet sting of his backside overrides the sting of his ego and leaves him clutching at the sheets instead of covering his eyes.
Yuta - Begging or offering
Kun generally only spends time with Yuta in the context of shared time with Sicheng. It’s not that either of them dislike each other, it’s just that they’re more friend-of-a-friends than friends. So he’s more than a little surprised when Yuta corners him in the kitchen on group movie night.
“I’m sorry, come again?” Kun is wide eyed, clutching the popcorn bowl he’d brought to refill like it’s a life preserver.
“I said,” Yuta plucks the bowl from him, setting it to the side as he backs Kun up into the counter, “I want to blow you. You down?”
“Is this a joke?” He holds his hands up in front of his belly, loosely curled and one on top of the other, for lack of anything better to do with them.
“No.” Yuta places hands on his hips, testing. Kun sucks in a breath but doesn’t push him away.
“I-- wha-- why?”
Yuta rolls his eyes and drops to his knees right there in Sicheng’s kitchen. The sound of gunfire and explosions reached them from other room, followed by Lucas’ excited shouting and Mark’s answering laughter. Kun panics, grabbing Yuta’s hair and pulling, “Oh my god, right now?!”
Yuta smirks up at him, already undoing his pants. “Think I can get you off before the popcorn’s done?”
When they return to their seats in the living room Kun’s ears are still red. Luckily the room is dark and everyone is too engrossed in the film to notice-- except for Sicheng, who just shakes his head at them with a sigh and resigns himself to eating the now-cold popcorn.
Doyoung - Coming in or on one’s partner
Doyoung is a gentleman. He’s intelligent and well-put-together, and, moreover, he’s the most genuinely thoughtful and caring person Kun’s ever dated. Doyoung sends him sweet texts for no particular reason and brings him vanilla lattes whenever he picks Kun up after work.
Doyoung is also the meanest motherfucker Kun’s ever slept with-- not that that’s a complaint. It’s definitely, definitely not. Not when it means Kun gets his ankles tied to the legs of Doyoung’s computer desk, hard thrusts threatening to shake the monitor right off the surface, neck straining because Doyoung’s pulling back on his hair but also holding his wrists to the small of his back to he can’t sit up.
“Inside or outside, baby?”
Kun answers with an inarticulate moan. The question is rhetorical anyways. They both know Doyoung always comes inside when he binds Kun’s legs apart. He likes to keep Kun on display like a used whore, satisfied to watch the proof of his conquest dripping out of Kun’s swollen hole and puddling on the floor between his feet.