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it’s kind of sad, johnny thinks, how the holidays tend to lose their magic as people get older. he remembers being little, waking up at the crack of dawn on christmas morning, nearly vibrating out of his bed with excitement to see what santa had brought and left under the tree for him the night before. he’d always be sure that he was going to get something good, because he’d been on his very best behavior the whole year, no doubt one of the first names at the very top of santa’s nice list.
his parents had a strict rule that johnny wasn’t to wake them up before 7am on christmas morning, and so johnny would spend a good hour or so laying in bed just daydreaming about what he was going to do with all of the new toys he was certain he was going to get.
right at 7am on the nose, johnny would bound out of bed and straight into his parents’ room, jumping onto their bed and shaking them awake, screeching “it’s christmas! it’s christmas, get up!” all the while.
(as somewhat of an adult now with a perhaps not so well hidden disdain for young children, he admires his parents’ seemingly unending patience with being woken up that early by their son kneeing them in the chest and hollering in their ears. he figures that maybe seeing johnny so excited for christmas morning brought back a little bit of the magic it had for them too when they were his age.)
christmas morning always went the same once johnny’s parents were up and out of bed–they made a quick pot of coffee before taking johnny’s stocking–stuffed to the gills with goodies–down off the mantle of the fireplace and letting him dig in. after the stocking came the presents under the tree, johnny tearing through each one so fast he barely had time to process each that he’d opened before moving onto the next one.
that magic lasted for him until he was seven years old and one of his best friends at the time had informed him that, contrary to what he’d been believing for his entire life up to that point, santa claus was not real and the whole rhetoric of a naughty or nice list was nothing more than an absolute farce. nobody was keeping a watchful eye on the kids of the world, nobody was making a list and checking it twice, and no magic flying reindeer were pulling a jolly old man’s sleigh so he could deliver gifts to all the children on the nice list while they slept on christmas eve.
johnny had gone home that day nearly in tears, and had demanded that his parents tell him the truth. they had admitted to him that santa was indeed not real, apologizing that he had to find out the way he did, and had soothed johnny’s resulting tantrum with hugs and a bowl of ice cream.
since then, christmas just hasn’t been the same for him. he still loves the holiday of course, but as he got older, it started to feel more and more like just another day to him. and now, at 21 years old, he’s considering not even going back home for the holidays.
“eomma,” johnny says, trying to placate his mother on the other end of the phone. “my internship’s only giving me christmas day off. and mark already said i could spend the holiday with his family, so i won’t be alone. i know you want me to fly back to chicago, but it’s not really feasible this year. i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”
johnny mom sighs, sadness still in her voice as she says, “okay, john-ah. if that’s really what you want.”
“it is,” johnny assures her. “it’s easier this way, and my internship will be done in january. i promise i’ll come home for easter.”
“okay,” johnny’s mom says, sounding a little happier now. “we’ll miss you.”
“i’ll miss you, too,” johnny says. “i’ll try to facetime you on christmas day, okay? so i can at least say hi to everyone.”
their conversation drifts off into rather meaningless small talk at that point, johnny ending the call soon after. he promises his mom again that he’ll come home as soon as he can and tells her he loves her, his mom saying it back before she hangs up the call.
johnny sighs, locking his phone and dropping it onto the mattress as he flops down onto his bed. he does feel sort of bad that he won’t be coming home for christmas this year, but his internship is too important for him to be taking any more days off than he needs to. he can’t risk losing out on any of the experience, having barely made it into the program by the skin of his teeth in the first place.
he knows his mom knows how important the internship is as well, so he’s sure that she has no hard feelings. she just misses him, still not used to having him living halfway across the country even though it’s been like that for four years now.
johnny’s phone vibrates, so he snatches it up from where he’d set it on the mattress, the phone unlocking as it registers his face. he has a new message from yuta, asking him if he’s busy.
johnny replies back that he’s not, and gets another message soon after asking if he wants to meet yuta at starbucks and then go to mark’s hockey game with him. johnny’s got nothing better to do so he figures why not, texting yuta back that he’ll meet him at starbs in ten.
he changes out of his sweatpants in exchange for his favorite pair of black jeans, grabbing his jacket off the back of his desk chair. it’s in the mid sixties outside currently, but the arena is kept pretty chilly as not to melt the ice, and he’s not trying to freeze his ass off while he watches mark play.
yuta is already sitting at one of the tables, latte in hand, when johnny gets to the cafe. johnny waves to him as he gets in line, yuta nodding back.
johnny orders an americano, leaving room for cream, topping it off himself after the barista hands it to him. he makes his way over to the table yuta’s already at, sitting down in the open chair opposite him.
“hey,” johnny says, blowing on his coffee to cool it before he takes a sip.
“hey,” yuta says, pausing to lick a spot of cream from his top lip. “you have class today?”
“nah,” johnny says, “i have fridays off, remember?”
“oh yeah,” yuta nods. “did mark come home at all?”
“no,” johnny says. “if he’s got a game, he’s probably been at the rink all morning for practice. why, haven’t you heard from him?”
“i texted him when i got out of my first class at eleven, but he hasn’t texted me back,” yuta says.
“he probably left his phone in his hockey bag,” johnny says. “you know how mark is.”
as if on cue, yuta’s phone vibrates where it’s laying on the table, mark’s name popping up on the screen. “speak of the devil,” yuta says, grabbing his phone and opening the message. “he says he reserved us a couple tickets for the game,” yuta says, fingers tapping on the screen as he types out his reply.
“cool,” johnny says. “what time does it start?”
“one,” yuta says. johnny checks the time on his watch–it’s already past twelve thirty.
“we should go now,” he says, “if we wanna get good seats.”
“did you drive here?” yuta asks, and johnny nods. “okay, you wanna drive us to the stadium? i ubered to campus today.”
“yeah, ‘s fine,” johnny says, getting up from his seat. yuta follows suit, trailing just behind him as they leave the cafe and make their way to the spot where johnny’s parked outside. johnny unlocks the car and slips into the driver’s seat just as yuta hops into the passenger side.
the stadium parking lot is already packed when they get there, but luckily johnny’s able to find a parking spot near the end of one of the aisles. the line to get inside is already out the door, and johnny groans at the thought of having to wait.
“we don’t have to,” yuta says when johnny voices his concerns. “mark said he put us on the players’ guest list, so we can go up to security and get right in.”
“amazing,” johnny says. he’s been to mark’s games before but not with yuta–he usually goes with jaehyun or ten, and they don’t bother asking mark to put them on the players’ guest list because it’s usually not a long wait to get tickets if they get to the stadium early enough. he and yuta definitely would have missed the first face off for sure if they had to wait in the line that’s currently snaking out of the building, so being able to bypass it entirely is a perk johnny wasn’t expecting, but is wholly grateful for.
“there’s more than one benefit to being mated to the team’s star center forward,” yuta grins, traipsing confidently past the line of spectators, right up to the security window where he gives his and johnny’s names. the beta woman behind the desk passes them their tickets and waves them on, yuta thanking her as he takes the tickets as she slides them through the window.
“i usually like to sit behind the players’ bench,” yuta mentions as they walk towards the main doors that will lead them out to the ice. “is that cool with you?”
“sure,” johnny says. “i don’t really care where we sit, as long as i can see.”
“cool,” yuta says, leading johnny down the stairs and through a few aisle of seats until he gets to where he wants to be. the section he chooses is indeed behind the players’ bench, a few rows up so the view won’t be obstructed when the bench is actually occupied.
it’s empty now save for the players’ gear, the entirety of the team out on the ice warming up. once yuta sits down he immediately starts scanning the rink for mark. johnny would swear that they share some sort of telepathic bond, because as soon as yuta spots mark, mark spots him too, grinning widely around his mouth guard before he spits it out into his glove and skates up to the side of the rink.
“hey babe! hey johnny! glad you could make it.” mark greets them, spraying ice as he skids to a stop in front of the boards.
“thanks for getting us the VIP in,” johnny says.
mark snickers. “it’s no problem,” he says, grinning. he turns his attention back to yuta. “hey, i’m sorry i didn’t text you back earlier. i left my phone in my bag.”
“told you,” johnny says.
“it’s okay,” yuta assures mark. “you starting today?”
“of course,” mark says, a cocky edge to his voice that usually doesn’t come out anywhere else except for the rink. a whistle blows from somewhere behind him and he turns his head to look. “i gotta go,” he says as he faces them again. “cheer for me?”
“you know i always do,” yuta says, blowing mark a kiss as he pushes off from the boards and skates away, following the rest of the team as they head back into the locker room.
the opposing team then takes to the ice, getting their own time to warm up before the game starts as well.
neither yuta nor johnny pay them much mind beyond scoping them out for the first few minutes to see what mark and his team are up against. yuta pulls out his phone, scrolling absentmindedly.
johnny takes his own phone out, checking it to see a missed call from his mom. he must have put his phone on do not disturb without realizing, not having heard or felt his phone vibrate to alert him that he was getting a call.
“ah, my mom called me,” johnny says, clearing the notification and promising himself that he’ll call her back after the game.
“the game’s not starting for another fifteen minutes, do you need to call her back?” yuta asks.
“nah,” johnny shrugs. “i talked to her earlier today. she probably just had another question about my plans for christmas break, since i’m not going back to chicago for it this year.”
“you’re not?” yuta asks, raising an eyebrow.
“nah,” johnny says again. “my internship is only giving me christmas day off, and there’s only a couple weeks left in the program, so i didn’t want to miss out on anything. didn’t mark tell you i’m spending christmas day with him and his family?”
“you are?” yuta asks, surprising coloring his expression. “he didn’t say anything about it to me.”
“oh,” johnny says, feeling suddenly like he’s put his foot in his mouth. “maybe he forgot?”
yuta shrugs. “maybe,” he says. “i’m not too concerned about it. he was kinda bummed that i’m going back to osaka for the holidays, so i’m glad he’ll have you around. have you met his mom before?”
“only once,” johnny says. “junior year, he came and helped mark move into the apartment. he seemed nice.”
honestly, when johnny met mark’s mom, he was too shell shocked to remember much about the day at all. for as long as johnny had known mark, there had been a running joke within their extended friend group revolving around the fact that, for lack of a better way to phrase it, mark’s mom was hot as fuck.
it started with donghyuck, who had been mark’s randomly assigned roommate freshman year. he was the first one to meet mr lee, and in his words, had been “blown away by the fact that mark was raised by a certified milf and still turned out to be such a giant fucking nerd.”
that had devolved into the rest of their group of friends shyly asking to see a photo of mark’s mom, and mark had shown them on the stipulation that donghyuck would shut the fuck up about how hot his mom is (“seriously, hyuck, it’s weird!”) and nobody else would ever comment on it again after that. they’d all agreed of course (with some fingers crossed behind their backs), so mark had pulled up his instagram page and showed them the most recent picture he had on there of him and his mom.
and, as it turns out, donghyuck was right. mark’s mom was indeed a certified milf and, arguably, the hottest person johnny had ever seen, even from just a photo alone. he couldn’t even imagine what mr lee would look like in person. like, mark had definitely inherited some of his mom’s beauty, being that he was a good looking dude himself, but goddamn, mr lee was on a whole nother level entirely.
so, when mark and johnny moved into an apartment together junior year and mr lee showed up, in the flesh, to help mark move in, johnny had nearly made a complete and utter fool of himself, tripping over his words and feet when mark introduced them, face flaming as mr lee greeted him with a warm smile and said, “please, call me taeyong.”
“j-johnny,” he’d stuttered, shaking the hand mr lee– taeyong– had offered, praying that taeyong couldn’t feel how clammy his palms were. taeyong had just smiled at him, full lips pulling back over a set of gorgeous white teeth, and johnny could have sworn he had legitimately swooned.
not only was taeyong the most beautiful person johnny had ever seen in real life, he also reeked of omega pheromones. johnny had never met a dominant male omega before in his life, what with how rare they were, and it nearly knocked him on his ass when taeyong had brushed past him carrying a box of mark’s things, the heat of the air and the sweat beading on taeyong’s brow making his scent that much more intoxicating.
johnny prides himself on being a nice, calm, level headed alpha, but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to revert to his base instincts, to bend taeyong over the railing and shove his face into taeyong’s pussy right there on the front porch.
“yeah, he’s super nice,” yuta agrees, pulling johnny back to the present. “i still can’t get over how good looking he is.”
johnny lets out a hysterical laugh before he can help it. “yeah, that’s–he’s definitely, uh, attractive.”
yuta snickers, rolling his eyes. “you don’t have to be coy about it,” he says. “at least to me. just don’t let mark catch on to how bad you wanna bone his mom.”
“i don’t–i don’t want to bone his mom,” johnny nearly wheezes. “i was just agreeing with you!”
“sure, jan,” yuta says. “whatever you say.”
“i don’t,” johnny repeats, like if he says it enough it’ll actually be true. yuta gives him a look, but whatever retort he had on his lips is drowned out by the jumbotron over the rink bursting to life with music, announcing the five minute warning before the start of the game.
thankfully, yuta lets the subject drop, enamored by watching the highlights of the home team on the screen, whooping every time mark appears in one of the clips.
johnny takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart, and sits back in his seat as the timer on the jumbotron ticks down to zero, the arena filling with music again as the teams spill back out onto the ice and the game begins.
❄️🎄❄️
it’s a slim victory but the home team wins, yuta nearly going crazy cheering when mark scores the winning goal. mark glides past them, grinning widely as the blades of his skates skim effortlessly over the ice. mark blows yuta another kiss and yuta swoons, johnny rolling his eyes fondly.
yuta decides to wait for mark after the game, so johnny heads back to his car on his own as the arena clears out. the traffic getting out of the parking lot is always shit, but luckily johnny gets to his car soon enough that he’s only waiting in the line for about ten minutes before he’s back onto the main road and heading back home.
he calls his mom back as he’s driving, and she picks up on the third ring.
“john-ah,” she croons as she answers.
“hey, eomma, sorry i didn’t call you back sooner,” johnny apologizes, “i was at mark’s hockey game with yuta and the arena was really loud.”
“oh, don’t worry about it,” his mom says breezily. “i just wanted to ask if you wanted me to send you your gifts, or if you wanted to wait until you were home again to open them all.”
“eomma, you know you don’t have to get me anything,” johnny says.
his mother clicks her tongue. “now now, john-ah, what kind of mother would i be if i didn’t buy my only son a gift for christmas?” she says.
they go back and forth for a little while longer, with johnny finally folding and telling his mom that she can mail his gifts to him. he supposes it would be nice to have something to open on christmas morning after all.
“i’ll text you mark’s address when i get back to the apartment,” johnny says.
“okay, sweetheart,” his mom coos, “i’ll talk to you later.”
they end the call with mutual i love you s, johnny dropping his phone into the cupholder once he hangs up.
he heads straight up to his room once he’s back home, dropping his keys onto his bed and settling down onto his desk chair, opening his macbook. he checks through a few emails from his internship supervisor, confirming that he’s good to work the day after christmas, then pulls up the essay he’s working on for his business ethics course.
he’s almost done with it, eight of ten pages completed, and he figures if he works late into the night, he’ll be able to finish it and still leave himself plenty of time to proofread before he submits it. he still needs to pack before he leaves for mark’s house in a couple weeks, but he figures he can get mark to help him with that when it comes time.
thinking about packing draws his thoughts to that of actually being at mark’s house for the holidays, and that subsequently leads to thinking about mark’s mom.
it’s not like he really means to, but once his thoughts drift off in that direction, johnny finds it hard to stop himself. god, he’s only met mark’s mom in person once, and yet the thought of seeing him again has johnny’s face going hot, skin prickling, long suppressed alpha instincts threatening to claw their way out.
johnny hates that–sure, he’s an alpha, but he’s not an alpha. he’s not some meathead omega skirt chaser who thinks the whole world should be handed to him on a silver platter because he “lucked out” in the secondary gender lotto. both of johnny’s parents are betas–they raised him better than that.
but it’s just something about taeyong lee that makes johnny want to forget everything he’s ever been taught in lieu of sinking his teeth into taeyong’s sweet neck, and his cock into his even sweeter pussy.
johnny sighs, cracking his knuckles, forcing himself to think about the unfinished essay in front of him, and not about how badly he wants to screw his best friend’s mom.
❄️🎄❄️
time flies in a way johnny has never quite been able to get used to, and before he knows it, he’s shoving a duffel bag into the trunk of an uber, sliding into the back seat next to mark, chatting idly about something or another as the car pulls away from the curb.
it’s early morning christmas eve, mark having woken johnny up at the ass crack of dawn to make sure he had finished packing and had time to shower and make himself presentable before mark called the uber that would take them on the forty five minute journey back to mark’s childhood home.
johnny had offered to drive, but mark had insisted that they could just take a car, stating that johnny was his guest for the holidays and shouldn’t have to worry about driving them there and back. johnny had acquiesced easily enough, rolling out of bed and padding off in the direction of their shared bathroom to shower.
“mom texted earlier today to tell me the gifts your mom sent made it to the house,” mark says.
“awesome,” johnny replies. “i’ll let my mom know.”
“mom said he’s excited to see you again,” mark says, snickering as he taps out a message on his phone, likely texting his mom back as they speak. “he thinks you’re nice.”
he thinks you’re nice. “ah, tell him i appreciate it,” johnny says, palms feeling suddenly clammy. he wipes them on his jeans, hoping mark doesn’t notice the way his cheeks have gone hot.
the rest of the drive passes in companionable silence, with mark snickering every so often and turning his phone to johnny to show him a meme or a tweet he’d found particularly funny.
in what feels like no time at all, the uber is pulling up to a large, pristine white house. though it’s too early in the day for them to be lit, the entire wrap around porch is decorated in festive colored twinkle lights and christmas decor.
johnny and mark have only just stepped out of the uber when the front door of the house bursts open, and johnny has to forcibly swallow the groan he wants to let out as he watches taeyong lee and his impossibly tight little body bound down the porch steps, arms open wide before he throws them in a hug around mark, smiling so widely that his eyes crinkle in the corners.
he’s dressed in a big, fluffy christmas sweater and—jesus fucking christ, johnny has to look away—a pair of black leggings that hug his thighs and ass. johnny resolutely decides not to think about how much he’d like to peel those leggings off of him and find out if he’s wearing any underwear beneath them.
“markie, johnny!” taeyong exclaims, releasing mark from his embrace, “oh, i’m so glad you’re here.”
johnny feels his face flush when taeyong turns his attention to him and says, “it’s so nice to see you again.”
johnny nods and tries not to choke on his own tongue when he replies, “you too, mr lee.”
taeyong rolls his eyes. “haven’t i told you before? please, call me taeyong.”
“right,” johnny says, and corrects himself: “it’s nice to see you again too, taeyong.”
it feels like sin, that name on his lips, and all johnny can think about as he grabs his duffel bag from the trunk of the uber is how badly he wants to say taeyong’s name over and over while he makes taeyong scream his.
kiss me, taeyong, spread your legs, taeyong, show me your pussy, taeyong, take my cock, taeyong, taeyong, taeyong, taeyong—
“–right, johnny?”
“wha—huh?” johnny replies dumbly, yanked from his mental spiral.
mark laughs, lightly socking johnny in the shoulder as he throws his bag over his own. “mom was saying how he needs some help bringing one of the tables up from the basement for the party tonight, and i said you’d be able to grab it for him. i’ll take your bag into the guest room for you.”
“o-oh, yeah, right,” johnny nods, kicking himself for letting his thoughts get so out of control. this is his best friend’s mother, for fuck’s sake. “i can definitely grab it.”
“lovely,” taeyong says, “you can drop your bags off in the guest room, and then i’ll show you where it is in the basement.”
johnny nods again, and follows mark and taeyong into the house, adamantly keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead, and not on the way taeyong’s leggings cling to his absolute little peach of an ass.
mark takes johnny’s bag from him once they’re inside, turning on his heel and trudging out of the foyer, up the grand staircase that johnny assumes leads to the bedrooms. mark disappears from view, and then it’s just johnny and taeyong.
taeyong looks johnny in the eye, and the hairs on the back of johnny’s neck stand up.
“you can follow me to the basement,” taeyong says. johnny nods, and follows taeyong through the house—the entirety of which is decorated in tasteful white and gold christmas lights and baubles, with a fully decked out tree in almost every room. the door to the basement is in a hallway just off the kitchen, and taeyong opens it, flicking a light switch to illuminate the darkened slope of the stairs.
“i would have grabbed the tables myself, but they’re just so heavy,” taeyong explains as they descend down the stairs. “mark usually helps me, but i figured you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand this time. you don’t mind, right?“
taeyong looks up at johnny with big, moony eyes, and johnny almost trips down the last stair.
“oh, no, i don’t mind—not at all,” johnny says, brushing a hand through his hair to try to shake off the jittery feeling under his skin. “it’s the least i can do for you letting me stay for the holidays.”
“oh, you’re so sweet,” taeyong smiles at him. johnny’s heart does this weird stuttery thing in his chest.
the table taeyong needs is tucked back in a far corner of the basement, and when he picks it up, johnny grunts a little bit at the unexpected weight. taeyong giggles at him, and johnny’s face heats again.
“it’s a bit heavy,” taeyong says.
“it’s fine,” johnny says, readjusting his grip. “i got it.”
there’s a moment, a beat of heavy silence between them, and johnny swears he stops breathing as taeyong’s eyes look him up and down, lingering before he says, “of course. it shouldn’t be anything for a strong alpha to handle.”
it’s nary a second but enough to have johnny’s heart thudding his his chest, his nostrils flaring, thoughts full of taeyong in the filthiest, most compromising positions he can think of, when taeyong sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, teething at it before he lets it go again, pink and wet and tempting.
“i should, uh—upstairs,” johnny stutters, tripping over his words and nearly his feet as he strides past taeyong towards the stairs, towards where he’s sure mark is waiting for them, where johnny can remind himself that taeyong is mark’s mother, and johnny should not be thinking about him the way that he is.
taeyong doesn’t say anything; he just follows johnny up the stairs, his maddening scent clouding johnny’s head with every step.
mark is waiting near the basement door when johnny emerges with the table, and johnny uses the opportunity to take a nice bug whiff of mark’s alpha scent to clear taeyong’s from his senses.
“you can just leave the table in the kitchen,” taeyong says, emerging from the basement and traipsing off towards the staircase that leads to the house’s upper level. “i’ll set it up where i need it after i take a shower. people should be arriving around four, so you boys should take some time to freshen up, too.”
with that, taeyong skips his way up the stairs; johnny watches him go until he’s completely out of sight.
johnny nearly startles when mark throws an arm over his shoulder. “there’s an en suite attached to the guest room, if you want to take a shower, too,” mark says. “i’m gonna go call yuta real quick.”
“cool, cool,” johnny nods. a cold shower is exactly what he needs.
and if johnny rubs one out while he’s in there, fist in his mouth to stifle his moans, thinking about the way taeyong looked at him through his lashes and called him a strong alpha, well—that’s nobody’s business but his.
❄️🎄❄️
johnny’s been to plenty of christmas parties in his life, but he’s never been to any party quite like this one thrown by taeyong lee.
in a matter of a couple hours, taeyong had transformed the house into a full-fledged winter wonderland. the twinkle lights in the porch and in the house have been turned on, the tree in every room illuminated, the electric fireplaces lit, and christmas music flooding out of the surround sound stereo system in the living room.
it feels like half the neighborhood has shown up to this party—the house is packed with at least fifty people, and taeyong is flitting around so quickly, greeting his guests and offering them snacks and drinks, that johnny’s barely been able to catch more than a glimpse of him since the firsts guests had rang the doorbell an hour ago.
honestly, it’s probably a good thing that johnny hasn’t been able to see much of taeyong, seeing as his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head when taeyong had come downstairs after showering and freshening up, newly changed into his outfit for the party.
taeyong’s dressed in a more modern, stylish version of a classic santa suit—he’s got a white button down shirt tucked into a pair of red suede shorts, with a matching red suede blazer over top. both the shorts and jacket are cuffed with soft white fur.
and, oh god, the worst ( best, absolute best) part of the outfit are the shiny black christian louboutin pumps on taeyong’s feet.
they make taeyong’s smooth legs look miles long, and johnny’s having an incredibly hard time trying not to imagine how taeyong would look laid out on his bed with those sweet legs spread, wearing nothing but his sleek, red bottomed heels.
johnny elects to drown himself in eggnog and pray he can keep his shit together until it’s late enough for him to make the excuse that he’s tired and needs to head to bed.
he ends up on one of the sofas in the den, mark next to him, drink in hand. mark’s even tipsier than johnny is, eyes half lidded and grinning too wide, laughing loudly at something or other. for an alpha, mark’s a lightweight—johnny’s grateful, because there’s no way drunk mark has his wits about him enough to notice the absolute fucking hard on johnny currently has for his mom.
speaking of said mom, taeyong comes traipsing into the den as if johnny summoned him with merely his thoughts, looking very much so like the temptation johnny perceives him to be. .
“are you having a good time?” taeyong asks, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa next to where johnny sits. he crosses his legs, and johnny swallows hard, eyes glued to taeyong’s smooth calves, the peek of inner thigh that his shorts don’t cover.
“um, yeah, i—yeah,” johnny says, clearing his throat and taking another long sip of eggnog to get his shit together. “it’s a really nice party. the eggnog’s good.”
“yeah?” taeyong asks, grinning wide. “i’m glad. i made it myself, and i was a bit worried i‘d added too much booze.”
“nah, it’s perfect. i should ask you for your recipe,” johnny says, “it’d be nice if i could make it myself back home.”
taeyong pauses, a sly smile on his face as he leans in, beckoning johnny closer. “see, i’d love to give you the recipe, but there’s a secret ingredient i put in there,” taeyong pauses again, for what johnny assumes is dramatic effect; johnny can’t stop staring at his mouth. “and if i told you what that was, i’d have to kill you.”
johnny’s eyes go wide and taeyong giggles, pulling back away from johnny’s personal space. “oh, you’re too easy,” taeyong snickers, reaching out a hand to pat johnny’s knee. “remind me to write the recipe down for you later, ‘kay?”
johnny takes another long sip of his eggnog. taeyong’s hand stays on his knee.
fuck. it’s going to be a long night.
❄️🎄❄️
if johnny had pictured how he thought the night was going to end, he wouldn’t have imagined that he’d be hauling a drunk, nearly passed out mark up the stairs to his room while taeyong bid farewell to the last few of the party guests lingering by the door.
ideally, johnny thought he’d have been in bed hours ago after dipping out of the party at a respectable time to save himself any more suffering at the hands of taeyong lee dressed as santa claus if santa claus was a milf in his late thirties with legs for miles and six inch stiletto heels on his feet.
instead, he’d promised taeyong that he’d help mark get up to his room (there was no way mark was going to be able to climb the stairs on his own, not in the state he’s in) and then he’d come back downstairs to help taeyong clean up a little bit before tucking off to bed himself.
mark grunts as johnny all but tosses him into bed, rolling him on his side in case he vomits in his sleep, and tucking mark’s duvet up to his chin. mark mumbles something incoherent, and by the time johnny’s walking out of the room and closing the door behind him, mark’s already snoring, dead to the world.
when johnny makes it back downstairs, he finds taeyong on one of the sofas in the den, leaning comfortably against the arm of it, a glass of wine in his hand, slender fingers wrapped around the stem.
he’s still dressed in his outfit from the party. he still has the fucking heels on.
taeyong smiles at johnny as he comes into view, gesturing with his free hand to another glass of wine sitting on a coaster on the coffee table. “for you,” taeyong says. “hope you like merlot.”
“i do,” he doesn’t, but fat fucking chance he’s going to tell taeyong that. “thank you.”
“come sit,” taeyong says, patting the open sofa cushion next to him.
johnny hesitates, weighing his options. “didn’t you want to—?”
“cleaning up can wait,” taeyong says. he pats the cushion again, just once, and takes another sip of his wine. when johnny still doesn’t move, taeyong raises an eyebrow at him.
johnny’s knees go weak. hook, line, and sinker.
he says a quick prayer for his sanity, and then sits down next to taeyong, who grins at him with his pearly white teeth, eyes crinkling just so at the corners.
desperate for something to do with his hands, johnny grabs his glass of wine, swirling at around a few times before he takes a sip. he manages not to pull a face when the merlot hits his tongue, and he considers it a victory.
“so,” taeyong says, taking another sip of his own wine. “did you enjoy the party tonight?”
“i did,” johnny says, nodding. he meets taeyong’s eyes and has to look away again, a shot of heat down his spine making his skin tingle. he chooses to look at the christmas tree on the other side of the room, decorated in silver and gold, the base of it covered with a huge, fluffy white tree skirt. “it was really nice.”
“i’m glad,” taeyong says, his expression suddenly going sheepish. “can i tell you a secret, john?”
hearing his name on taeyong’s lips makes johnny want to squirm in his seat, but he ignores the feeling, the desire he’s been denying simmering just under the surface.
this is dangerous. taeyong is dangerous. johnny needs to get out of here before he does something he’s going to regret.
but god, taeyong is looking at him with those huge, deep brown omega eyes, and johnny can’t fucking resist.
“a secret?” johnny says, taking the bait.
“mhm,” taeyong hums, swirling his wine in his glass. “it’s kind of embarrassing.”
johnny licks his lips, mouth going dry. “i’m sure it’s not so bad,” he says.
taeyong giggles, hand coming up to cover his mouth before he drops it to the rim of his wine glass, tracing it with a single, delicate finger. “i was really nervous when mark told me you’d be staying with us for christmas,” taeyong admits.
“oh,” johnny breathes. he wasn’t sure what he expected taeyong’s admission to be, but it certainly wasn’t this. “why—why’s that?”
taeyong shrugs. “i don’t really get to meet a lot of markie’s friends,” he says. “you’re the first one he’s actually ever invited to come here. well, besides yuta, of course,” taeyong laughs airily, before sinking into a sigh. “i just wanted to make a good impression.”
“you really didn’t have to try that hard for me,” johnny says. “i’m really not worth the trouble.”
“oh, but of course you are,” taeyong says, a certain lilt to his voice that wasn’t there before. it’s light, teasing, but the tone makes johnny’s skin tingle. anticipation.
taeyong’s eyes lift from the rim of his wine glass to meet johnny’s, and johnny sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how dilated taeyong’s pupils are: so big that they almost completely eclipse the warm brown of taeyong’s iris.
the air between them goes tense. johnny’s brain screams at him: run. run before you do something you can’t take back.
“tell me, john,” taeyong murmurs, voice sweet and syrupy, like honey. “have you been fucking me with your eyes all night, or was it just my imagination?”
too fucking late.
“shit,” johnny curses, a confession and an apology all in one. “mr lee, i—“
the sound of taeyong’s wine glass slamming against the table is loud, way too loud. “how many times do i have to tell you—” taeyong reaches forward, grabbing johnny’s own glass from his hand and setting it down on the table next to taeyong’s own. “—to call me taeyong?”
“i’m sorry,” johnny says, at a loss for any words beyond that.
“oh yeah?” taeyong giggles, slinking forward with feline grace, all smooth lines and curves as he settles himself into johnny’s lap. johnny pinches his own thigh, hard. not a dream, then. “how are you going to make it up to me?“
johnny swallows, a nervous lump forming in his throat. his mouth is so fucking dry. “we shouldn’t—i can’t—“
“shh,” taeyong presses a slim, primly manicured finger against johnny’s lips. “do you know how long it’s been since i’ve gotten fucked the way i like it?” taeyong pauses, like he’s waiting for an answer. johnny’s mouth is too dry for him to speak, so he just shakes his head. “the answer is way too fucking long. i need a young, strong alpha, john . i need someone who’s going to fuck me until i can’t take it anymore,” taeyong runs the finger pressed against johnny’s lips down his jaw, over his adam’s apple. “you could fuck me like that, couldn’t you?”
he could, oh god yes, he fucking could—
“but mark—“ johnny gasps, fingers curling into fists so hard his nails dig into his palms.
“mark is so passed out right now he could sleep through an earthquake,” taeyong insists. he grinds down into johnny’s lap, and johnny can almost picture it as his last shred of half-hearted resistance falls away.
“oh fuck it,” johnny curses, and throws caution to the wind.
he grips taeyong’s hips, fingers digging into the plush swell of his hips, forcing him down as he grinds up. taeyong’s mouth falls open, moaning at the friction, and johnny swallows the sound in a kiss.
the second their mouths collide, it’s like a dam breaking—taeyong gasps, squirming closer, hands all over johnny’s chest, his shoulders, his neck. johnny’s hands slip from taeyong’s hips to his ass, squeezing and spreading.
the sound taeyong lets out is intoxicating, like a shot straight into johnny’s bloodstream.
johnny tightens his grip on taeyong’s ass and with a grunt, he heaves them both up from the sofa. taeyong squeals, wrapping his legs around johnny’s waist.
“what are you doing?” taeyong hisses as johnny starts to walk away from the sofa, heading out of the room in the direction of the stairs.
“taking you upstairs?” johnny says, frowning at the look taeyong gives him, like johnny’s fucked up somehow.
“are you nuts?” taeyong gripes. “yeah, markie is out like the dead right now, but let’s not play with fire.”
johnny flounders, standing still. he’s stuck in a limbo, not sure where to go.
“jesus, put me down,” taeyong says. “you can fuck me right here, i don’t care. just give me what i want.”
johnny grimaces but does what taeyong asks, setting taeyong down on his own two feet. taeyong reaches up to grip the hair at the back on johnny’s head and tugs him into another searing kiss, and next thing johnny knows they’re on the floor, right on top of the huge fluffy white tree skirt, and taeyong’s stripping out of his blazer, unbuttoning his white shirt.
johnny follows taeyong’s lead, pulling his own shirt off over his head. by the time he’s managed to shake his hair out of his face, taeyong’s reaching down to pull his shoes off his feet.
before he really even consciously processes it, johnny grabs taeyong’s wrist, stopping him. “leave them on,” johnny says.
taeyong’s tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip. “you like them,” he says. it’s not a question.
“yeah, i really fucking do,” johnny confesses.
johnny releases taeyong’s wrist, and taeyong’s hand slinks back, until it’s resting on the button of johnny’s fly.
together they work frantically to get johnny’s pants off, and after a couple moments, johnny’s stripped bare. his cock bobs, heavy and leaking, and taeyong reaches out to give it a couple quick, tight strokes.
“fuck, i knew you’d be big,” taeyong says, rubbing his thumb over the tip.
johnny’s not sure what to do with that information, the knowledge that taeyong’s thought about johnny’s cock before, thought about this before, but he doesn’t dwell on it. instead he reaches for the waistband of taeyong’s shorts, popping the clasp on them and tugging down the zipper.
taeyong lifts his hips, and johnny wiggles the shorts down, past taeyong’s thighs, his calves, and carefully over the heels still on taeyong’s feet. johnny runs his hands up taeyong’s smooth, bare thighs, eyes set on the crux between them, where the only thing remaining between johnny and taeyong’s cunt is a dainty little pair of red lace panties.
without a second thought, johnny hooks a finger in the crotch of those panties and yanks them to the side, using his free hand to push one of taeyong’s legs up and out, baring him open for johnny’s mouth.
taeyong’s hand flies to his mouth, muffling a wail as johnny licks hot and wet over his cunt, sucking his clit between his lips.
as good as he looks, taeyong tastes even better. johnny moans against him, pressing himself even closer. he lets go of taeyong’s thigh in lieu of using that hand to spread taeyong’s cunt with his index and ring finger, slipping his middle inside.
taeyong chokes on another moan, grinding his hips down against johnny’s face. it’s almost suffocating, the heat and taste and scent of taeyong all around him. it’s all so much, but god, he’d drown in taeyong’s pussy if he could.
“oh fuck, that’s so good,” taeyong babbles, reaching down to twist his fingers into johnny’s hair. “just like that—gonna make me come, oh god!”
taeyong’s hand curls harder in johnny’s hair, holding him right where he wants him as he grinds against his mouth once, twice, three times before his whole body tenses, throwing his head back as he starts to come. he rides johnny’s face through the waves of it, and by time he lets johnny back up, johnny’s chin and neck are covered in his slick.
as taeyong lays panting, coming down from his high, johnny takes the opportunity to slip taeyong’s panties down his hips, and—just like he did with taeyong’s shorts—over the heels.
johnny shifts up onto his knees, gripping the base of his cock in one hand. he holds taeyong’s thigh again with the other, keeping him spread as he slaps his cock against taeyong’s clit. taeyong spasms with every smack, whining at the sensitivity.
“give me your cock,” taeyong begs, hooking his free leg over johnny’s hip. “i need it, please—“
it’s too fucking much, that begging. johnny can’t resist, not with how taeyong looks right now: skin slick with sweat, almost glowing with the way the lights of the christmas tree reflect on his body, thighs spread and pussy so wet that johnny’s cock threatens to slip inside every time he smacks it against it.
johnny bends like a willow to taeyong’s needs, gripping his thighs and pushing his cock into the tight heat of taeyong’s body.
“shit, shit, you feel so good,” johnny gasps, hands slipping down to taeyong’s hips. he grips hard, forcing taeyong still as he breathes hard through his nose, willing himself not to pop his fucking knot right then and there and ruin everything before it’s really even started.
“you’re so fucking big,” taeyong moans, clenching around the length of johnny’s cock inside of him. “stretching out my pussy so good— fuck, i want you in my ass, too.”
johnny blanches. “you—what?”
“you’ve never done that before?” taeyong asks, moving his hips in teasing little circles when johnny lets up on the grip he has on them. “fucked an omega in both holes?”
“not—not at the same time,” johnny gasps, rutting forward to push himself even deeper inside of taeyong’s cunt. “it was always either or.”
“boring,” taeyong huffs. his legs hug tighter around johnny hips as johnny starts to ride him in earnest, his cock making the most obscene noises as it slips in and out of taeyong’s cunt. johnny can feel taeyong’s slick dripping down his balls. “i want you to fuck my pussy, then pull out and fuck my ass. back and forth, as many times as you want. i want you to use me, john.”
johnny doesn’t know exactly what it is—maybe it’s the way taeyong says his name, maybe it’s the way he begs for johnny to abuse his body, but whatever it is, it flips a switch in johnny’s brain. his head goes foggy and all he can focus on is the overwhelming, all-encompassing need to own and take and breed.
“if that’s what you want,” johnny growls, pulling out from taeyong’s cunt and pressing the tip of his cock to taeyong’s asshole, “then that’s what i’ll give you.”
there’s so much slick drooling from taeyong’s pussy, down the cleft of his ass and all over johnny’s cock, that the slide into taeyong’s ass is easy. taeyong’s body opens right up for it, like the good omega he is, and taeyong tosses his head back with a broken moan when johnny settles balls deep inside.
johnny curses, rutting against taeyong’s ass, his cock throbbing where taeyong squeezes hot and tight around it.
“fucking— god, you’re going to tear me apart,” taeyong pants, hands coming up to curl against johnny’s chest.
“‘s it good?” johnny asks, voice breathy and unsure, despite how clearly taeyong is enjoying it, rolling his hips down against johnny’s cock, pleasured little whines falling from his parted lips.
“ so good,” taeyong mewls. he tightens his legs around johnny’s waist, eyes half lidded. “fuck me,” he says, and johnny can’t even pretend that he could resist him.
johnny grabs taeyong’s legs, leaning back as his unwinds them from around his hips, hiking them up to his shoulders. he presses forward again, testing the limits of taeyong’s flexibility, effectively bending him in half.
taeyong whimpers at the new position, his body tensing. his hole clenches around johnny’s cock, and johnny stifles a moan into the soft curve of taeyong’s knee as he starts to thrust again.
the sounds of johnny fucking into taeyong’s body are obscene, his hips smacking against taeyong’s ass with every thrust forward. taeyong has one hand over his mouth, muffling his noises, and the other is between his legs, delicate fingers slipping inside of his cunt.
johnny can feel the press of taeyong’s fingers inside of himself through the thin barrier between his ass and his pussy. his hips stutter for just a second before he pulls out, staring dazed at the way taeyong’s asshole clenches around nothing, intoxicated by the little whimper taeyong lets out, the way his body begs to be filled again.
johnny shoves taeyong’s legs from his shoulders, and taeyong protests, demanding “what are you doing?”
instead of answering, johnny grabs taeyong by the hips and flips him over onto his belly. taeyong lets out a surprised little squeal, but catches on quickly enough. he arches his back, up on his knees with his chest pressed to the floor, blatantly offering both of his holes again for johnny to use as he pleases.
johnny pushes his index and middle fingers into taeyong’s ass, and his cock into taeyong’s cunt.
taeyong wails, pressing his face into the fluffy white tree skirt he’s sprawled on top of. with his free hand, johnny reaches up to grip the back of taeyong’s neck, holding him where he wants him as he starts fucking him again in earnest, thrusting his fingers in and out of taeyong’s ass in time with the pace of his hips.
it doesn’t take long for taeyong’s thighs to start trembling, slick dripping from him in pearlescent rivers. johnny pulls his fingers from taeyong’s ass, pushing them through the mess to wet them again before he slips them back inside.
“oh fuck, i’m gonna come,” taeyong whimpers, bouncing his hips back to meet johnny for every thrust. “give it to me—in my ass again, please—“
taeyong’s words cut off in a garbled moan as johnny slips his cock free of his cunt, spreading him open with his thumbs as he pushes back inside of taeyong’s ass, just like taeyong begged for.
a broken noise spills from taeyong’s lips, and his entire body clenches up as he comes, slick gushing from his cunt. it soaks his thighs and johnny’s own, dripping down to puddle on the tree skirt under his knees.
“ oh my god, i just—you made me—oh fuck,” taeyong curses as another wave of pleasure wracks his body and he squirts again, adding to the mess all over himself, all over johnny, all over the floor.
johnny groans, falling forward against taeyong’s body, pressing his forehead between taeyong’s shoulders. he gasps against taeyong’s skin, “i’m gonna—my knot, where—where you do want it?”
“my pussy,” taeyong says, crying out when johnny slips his cock from his ass, pushing it back inside taeyong’s cunt on his next thrust forward. “yes, yes, fuck, john, that’s it, give it to me!”
johnny’s hand curls tighter around the nape of taeyong’s neck, the other gripping tight enough to bruise on his hip. he fucks taeyong’s cunt until he can feel his knot catching on the rim of it, until it’s too big to pull out anymore. johnny grinds his hips against taeyong’s ass, fucking shallowly until his knot catches and he starts to come.
taeyong’s body milks his knot for everything it’s worth, taeyong moaning with every spurt of johnny’s cum inside of him. he rocks his hips back against johnny’s hips, shuddering as another small gush of slick wets his thighs.
his orgasm seems to go on forever, and it takes everything johnny has to not just collapse on top of taeyong and rut his knot into his body until taeyong’s taken everything johnny has to give. he breathes hard through his nose, pressing his face into the crook of taeyong’s neck and breathing in the heady, intoxicating scent of a satisfied, well-fucked omega.
they ride out johnny’s knot together, taeyong whimpering every time johnny’s hips jerk forward with another wave of pleasure. by the time johnny’s knot has gone down enough for him to pull out without hurting taeyong, the slick covering them has cooled to the point where it’s sticky and uncomfortable, and the second he’s able to, taeyong is pushing johnny away.
he kicks his heels off his feet as he stands, wobbling just a bit. johnny, still a bit shell shocked that this actually just happened, that he just had sex with mark’s mother, reaches out and tries to steady taeyong with his own shaking hand.
“are you okay?” johnny asks. his voice cracks and he clears his throat, cheeks going hot.
“i’m just dandy,” taeyong says. “i’m just really not a fan of being covered in slick and cum, so i’m going to go take a shower. do me a favor and pick up the tree skirt, won’t you? it’s going to need a wash, too.”
johnny flounders, and his confusion must show on his face because taeyong gives a fond sigh, rolling his eyes.
“don’t think too hard about it, okay?” taeyong says, bending over to pick up his heels and clothes from the floor. “i needed a good fuck, and you wanted to fuck me. it was a fun little one time thing.”
“oh, uh, yeah,” johnny stutters, nodding. “just, uh, lemme grab this, then.” johnny unties the skirt from the base of the tree, pulling it out from under it and rolling it into a ball.
“you’re a good alpha, john,” taeyong says softly, clearly trying to placate him. “but you know this can’t be more than just a one night stand.”
“i know,” johnny says. “i’m just still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this even just happened. but i’m good—i’m cool. it’s fine, i promise.”
taeyong reaches out and pats johnny’s cheek with his soft, delicate hand. “good,” he says. “i’ll see you in the morning then. you can drop that in the laundry room on your way upstairs.”
with that, taeyong turns on his heel, toddling out of the living room and off towards the master bedroom. johnny can’t help but stare at taeyong’s ass as he walks off, eyes trained on the trail of cum dripping down taeyong’s thighs.
johnny sits under the tree for a moment, with the dirtied tree skirt in a ball on his lap. the scent of taeyong’s slick and johnny’s cum is still wafting off of it, and before he can think twice about it, johnny buries his face into the damp fabric and breathes in deep. it makes his head spin, and if he hadn’t just popped his knot a few minutes ago, johnny’s sure he’d be getting hard again. he sighs, getting to his feet with a grunt. he grabs his own clothes as he gets up, bundling them up in his arms with the tree skirt.
he drops the skirt into the washing machine as he passes the laundry room on his way up the stairs, careful to walk on tenterhooks as he heads towards the guest room, breathing a sigh of relief when he gets inside and locks the door behind him. he drops his clothes on the floor, heading over to the ensuite bathroom.
johnny starts the shower and hops in before the water has had a chance to heat up, shivering as the cold sluices over his body. he leans his head back into the spray, eyes closed, and remembers the way taeyong looked under him, naked body spread out, holes used, dripping johnny’s cum.
johnny’s hand slips down between his thighs, gripping his cock as it thickens. if anything, if taeyong stays true to his promise that the sex was a one time thing that’s never going to happen again, at least he’ll have spank bank material to jerk off to for the rest of his life.
later on, johnny will worry how he’s supposed to look mark in the eye knowing that he fucked mark’s mother under the christmas tree like some sort of perverse christmas ritual, but for now, he squeezes the head of his cock and jerks himself off until he cums, sighing and leaning against the shower wall as he comes down.
johnny shuts the shower off, grabbing a towel to dry himself with before he grabs a pair of sweatpants from his duffel and pulls them on over his hips. he pulls back the covers and gets into bed, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.
he’ll probably regret everything in the morning, but the last thought on johnny’s mind is how glad he is that he decided not to go home and instead spend christmas with mark and taeyong. johnny loves chicago and he loves his parents, but getting to fuck taeyong? getting to have those memories for the rest of his life, until he’s old and decrepit and can’t even get his dick hard anymore?
best fucking christmas present ever.