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It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Yunho buries his face in his pillow, groaning. Yeosang’s alpha is stinking up the house and he’s going insane.
Yeosang was supposed to be an omega. Everything would be easier if he had just presented as an omega.
Just thinking it makes Yunho feel uneasy. The alpha in him rears, willing and eager to covet who was supposed to be his omega—his Yeosang. The part of him that is human, that has longed for Yeosang longer than he can remember, shrinks. Shame floods his body at his own selfishness, at the biological part of him that needed Yeosang to present as an omega so that he could have claimed him for his own.
When Yeosang had presented, he had been calm. Normal. He had walked into the living room, stood in front of Yunho, and said nothing.
Yunho could smell him. He knew the night before, but Yeosang had been closed off in his room, so he had waited for him to approach him. When it all came crashing down, it turned out neither of them had anything to say.
There had been some romps. A few hazy weekends where they had gotten high and touched each other for hours. Once, after a party, Yeosang had let Yunho finger him on the couch until he came. But it was all in good fun, or so they thought. Yunho was an alpha. Despite both of them being so sure Yeosang would present as an omega, they knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved until they were positive.
At least, Yunho had been sure. Maybe Yeosang had a feeling all along. Thinking back on it, maybe he should have known. Yeosang’s steadiness, his sturdiness, had always been mistaken in their pack for submission. Calm, willing Yeosang, always level-headed, never quick to react to anything. His self-assurance had been read as obedience, his composition mistaken for deference. Yunho was far from the only alpha in their pack to want him. Even San, their omega, had wanted him. Since Yeosang presented, San has been even more insufferable than usual, all over Yeosang all of the time. But it was different with the two of them. Everyone knew. They were supposed to be mates.
It was supposed to be simple.
Yeosang’s scent spikes, and Yunho growls before he can stop himself. Being this close to a rutting alpha, even from rooms away, is messing with him. Yeosang’s last rut had brought a revolving door of omegas into his room while Yunho had seethed quietly. Yunho had gone crawling to San, the only person who could understand how bad it hurt him to lose Yeosang, even though San hadn’t. San had presented for him eagerly. The two of them had stayed locked up in San’s nest, knotted together, for days. It had helped to satisfy him physically. It had not taken care of the gaping hole in his heart.
Before he realizes what he’s doing, Yunho is storming down the hallway to Yeosang’s room, pounding on the door. The other alpha’s scent is overwhelming, and Yunho’s hackles are rising. He hears footsteps on the other side of the door—heavy, loud—and then the door is opening just enough for Yeosang to stick his head through, looking at him in disdain. He never used to look at him like this, but ever since presenting, Yeosang regards him like he’s the scum of the earth. The others say it will pass, but Yunho isn’t so sure.
“What,” he snaps.
“Can you get your scent under control?” Yunho bites back, trying to act like Yeosang’s obvious distaste for him doesn’t hurt. “You’re stinking up the house. The others will be back in a few days. San doesn’t need this.” Using San like this is pathetic. He’s pathetic.
Yeosang gives him a dry smile. “San will be fine,” he smirks. Yunho tries not to see what he’s seeing in his head: San and Yeosang tangled together the way he and San had been. He’d like to see them knotted together. That’s neither here nor there.
“Forget San, then,” Yunho replies. “Your scent is fucking with me.”
Yeosang studies him from the doorframe. Finally, he says, “You can go.”
“And leave you here?” Yunho blurts out before he can stop himself. Something passes over Yeosang’s face.
“You’re not my keeper,” he says quietly. Yeosang has always been quiet, but now his composure feels threatening, like he’s one word away from exploding. “I didn’t ask you to stay here. Seonghwa told you to go with them, but you stayed, and that’s not my fault.”
“Did you think I was going to leave you by yourself? Alone?”
Yeosang pushes the door slightly more open, wide enough that he can lean up against the doorjamb.
“Yes, actually.” He slams his palm against the doorjamb. “Damn it, Yunho, what do you want? You don’t want me alone, but you don’t want to be here, and you don’t want me here, either. You made it abundantly clear that you didn’t appreciate me bringing strangers home, so I haven’t. What more do you want me to do? What will satisfy you, Yunho?”
You will, Yunho thinks. He can’t think of a single appropriate thing to say, so he stays silent.
Yeosang sneers at him, his lack of response seeming only to piss him off more. “When are you going to get over yourself?” Yunho pretends that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. “Do you think I can’t tell? You walk around like a kicked puppy, hanging your head, avoiding me.”
“I’m not—” Yunho starts, but it’s maybe the stupidest thing he could say, so he stops. Neither of them are dumb. Yeosang is exactly right.
Yeosang glares at him so hatefully that it turns Yunho’s stomach. “Are you upset I’m not some simpering omega, begging for your cock, dying to hang off your knot?”
Yes. Obviously. Yeosang is the most beautiful man he’s ever known. Yunho would have to be stupid not to want that.
“Yes,” Yunho grits out. Yeosang’s eyes widen, if only for a second before he regains his composure. “Of course I wanted that. Of course I wanted you.” Yeosang snarls at him, but the threat feels empty. “And you—you hate me, Yeosang. Of course I—of course it hurts.”
Yeosang just stares at him. Yunho can’t read his expression at all, not the way he used to be able to. There’s something between them, some invisible force or brick wall that goes deeper than just alpha competition. Maybe Yeosang put it there. Maybe he did.
“I don’t hate you,” Yeosang says, finally. He goes to close the door, but Yunho puts his foot in the gap before he can. He presses on the door, pushing it open, and steps closer, into the room. He doesn't know what he’s doing, but he knows he can’t leave Yeosang like this. For his sake, or Yeosang’s, or both of them—he can’t walk away. Even when he should. Yeosang backs away, his eyes flashing.
“Yeosang,” Yunho starts, not sure what he’s going to say, and then Yeosang is charging at him, pushing him up against the wall. His skull slams into the plaster and he blinks rapidly, trying to stop his head from spinning. Yeosang’s forearm is across his chest, holding him up against the wall easily. Yeosang has always been stronger than him, but in this state, there’s no fighting with him. Yunho doesn’t stand a chance. Yeosang’s eyes are dark, his lips twisted into a snarl. Yunho closes his eyes.
“Use me,” Yunho pants out, struggling against Yeosang’s grip on him. He opens his eyes only once the words are past his lips.
Yeosang startles, his wild, untamed gaze softening slightly as he stares at Yunho, his eyes focusing on him slowly.
“What?” His voice is low, dangerous. He thinks Yunho is making fun of him. He should know that Yunho has never been more serious about anything in his life.
Yunho huffs, trying to free himself. Yeosang’s elbow is crushing into his ribs. It hurts, but the feeling of Yeosang touching him hurts more. Yunho knew he needed him, but he didn’t know it would be like this. Hazily, Yunho realizes that Yeosang could do anything to him, could be violent, could hurt him, and Yunho would take all of it just to be near him.
“That’s what you need, right? A body? Use me.”
“I don’t need a body. You know what I need,” Yeosang snaps.
“You don’t have that,” Yunho says, still struggling against Yeosang, who has him pinned against the wall. “You have me. I’m here.” He sounds so fucking desperate, and he is, but in his brain this was going to come out sounding a lot differently. He’s offering because he wants Yeosang to calm down, yes, but the idea that he might still be able to be something Yeosang needs is intoxicating. Yeosang is the drug he just can’t quit. He should feel more ashamed than he does, begging an alpha who hates him (or doesn’t?) to fuck him.
Yeosang hisses, moving his other hand to wrap around Yunho’s neck.
“Don’t test me, alpha.”
Yunho groans. He’s always wanted to hear Yeosang call him alpha, but he never thought it would be like this.
“Use me,” Yunho repeats. He has to fight to get the next word out, choking on it as his throat tries to close around it. “Please.”
Yeosang hisses again, but he lowers the arm against Yunho’s chest to his side. Hesitantly, he loosens his fingers from around Yunho’s neck, and Yunho leans forward a little, gasping quietly as he catches his breath.
“You’re pathetic,” Yeosang whispers. Yunho knows this already.
“Yeosang—”
And then Yeosang is kissing him, wrapping those fingers back around his neck and smashing his lips to Yunho’s. One of Yunho’s hands flies to Yeosang’s wrist, pure instinct, defensively wanting the other man’s digits further away from his larynx, but Yeosang’s grip isn’t tight enough to hurt him—not yet. His grip is firm, commanding, and Yunho knows he isn’t going anywhere until Yeosang wants him to. With his other hand, Yunho presses the pads of his index and thumb gently into the sides of the back of Yeosang’s neck, trying to calm him down. Yeosang relaxes his body minutely, his tongue getting more frantic in Yunho’s mouth.
Still kissing him hard, Yeosang takes the hand of Yunho’s that’s wrapped around his wrist and pulls it down, down, pressing Yunho’s hand against his bulge. Yunho gasps into his mouth, hesitating before applying pressure gently. Yeosang rumbles deep in his throat and Yunho feels it in his mouth, palming at the other alpha’s crotch as Yeosang grinds against his hand, moving his own hand to grope at Yunho’s ass. Yeosang’s fangs are out. Yunho runs his tongue over them. In response, Yeosang digs one into Yunho’s bottom lip, drawing blood. He licks at the cut, pulling Yunho’s lip into his mouth and sucking. When he pulls away, his mouth is stained with Yunho’s blood.
Yeosang grins at him, his teeth red. “Are you sure about this, alpha?” It’s not lost on Yunho that Yeosang’s hand is still around his neck. He wonders what would happen if he said no.
“I’m sure about everything I’ve ever wanted with you,” Yunho says.
Yeosang snorts. “You’re out of your mind,” he mutters.
“Maybe,” Yunho replies. He should stop talking. “You know I’ve always wanted you.” He should really, really stop talking.
Yeosang’s lips curl back into a harsh snarl. “You wanted the idea of me you had in your brain,” he hisses. “You wanted a pet.”
Yunho shakes his head. “I wanted you any way that you were,” he insists. “Of course it would be easier if you were an omega, but that’s just because I had already presented.”
Yeosang studies him, his dark eyes roaming Yunho’s face. He’s looking for something, but Yunho doesn’t know what. He wants to get on with this, wants to keep going, doesn’t want to do this now, even though he started it.
“Are you going to take me up on my offer or are you going to call some drooling omega to come sit on your knot?”
“You won’t be sitting on it,” Yeosang hisses, smirking, and for once Yunho doesn’t have anything to say. Yeosang grabs him by the shoulders, forcing him down. Yunho falls onto his knees obediently, staring up at him, fingers digging into his knees while he waits to be useful. If Yeosang told him to stop breathing, he would do it. Yeosang holds his face with both hands. Not gentle—like he could snap Yunho’s neck if he wanted to. “Last chance, alpha,” he murmurs.
Yunho says nothing, does nothing, exhales only once. His eyelashes flutter.
“Okay,” Yeosang whispers. Yunho covers one of his hands with his own and something changes in Yeosang’s expression, if only for a second. He’s back to his rapacious self in an instant, his eyes pitch black, hungry. Yeosang tugs at the collar of Yunho’s shirt and then Yunho is taking it off, doing what the other alpha wants without thinking, without blinking.
“So good,” Yeosang murmurs, and Yunho growls quietly. Yeosang looks down at him, amused. He doesn’t need to say anything when Yunho is on his knees, half naked and salivating, in front of him. “Stay,” Yeosang says, like Yunho is his fucking dog, and walks away before Yunho can even feel indignant about it.
Yunho stays, sitting back on his calves. He watches Yeosang’s back as he tugs his shirt off, pulling it over his head by the collar with one hand. Yunho practically starts drooling as he watches Yeosang flex the muscles in his back, tilting his head to each side as he steps closer to his dresser, yanking a drawer open and extracting a plastic bottle. This is happening, Yunho thinks. There’s a tightness in his pants that wasn’t there a few moments ago. He’s almost lightheaded.
Yeosang turns back to him, his expression unreadable once again. Yunho desperately wants to break down whatever is hovering between them, but he forgets about it once his gaze drops lower, distracted by the sight of Yeosang’s chest. When he reaches him, Yeosang sinks onto his knees slowly, settling back onto his calves, mimicking Yunho’s position.
“You know I can’t make it not hurt,” Yeosang says, catching his eye. Yunho nods slowly, taken aback by his sudden tenderness.
“I don’t care if it hurts,” Yunho whispers.
Yeosang gives him a wry smile. “You say that now,” he mutters. Before Yunho can blink, Yeosang is close again, one knee between Yunho’s, the other to the right of Yunho’s. He runs his hands up Yunho’s torso, leaning in close, burying his face his neck and inhaling deeply. Yunho realizes that he’s trembling, a shaky mess against Yeosang’s firm steadiness. Yeosang drags his fangs across Yunho’s neck and Yunho whines.
Hesitantly, Yunho raises his hands to hover around Yeosang’s waist. Yeosang bites gently on his shoulder and Yunho grabs onto the other alpha’s waist, digging his fingers in harder than he means to. His eyes flutter closed. Yeosang scoots closer, pressing his knee up against Yunho’s crotch, hard. Yunho whines again, quieter. It feels wrong—it feels right. He struggles in Yeosang’s grip, wanting both to lay down and let Yeosang do anything he wants to him and to fight back, to try to overpower Yeosang, to try to make Yeosang submit to him. They both know it would never work. He may be an alpha, but this is where he’s meant to be: trembling, pliable, in Yeosang’s arms.
Abruptly, Yeosang pulls away. Yunho’s eyes fly open, indignant and relieved simultaneously. Yeosang’s eyes are dark again. Yunho doesn’t recognize him, doesn’t know where he went.
“Yeosang,” he whispers.
“Alpha,” Yeosang corrects him, his voice gravely.
“Alpha,” Yunho agrees automatically, his mouth forming the syllables before he knows what he’s saying.
Yeosang places two hands on his shoulders and pushes him backward. Yunho’s head hits the ground hard and he winces, but Yeosang doesn’t seem to notice. He watches as Yeosang yanks his pants down, his cock straining against his underwear until he takes those off, too. He’s so, so incredibly hard, and for a moment Yunho feels bad. All this time, Yeosang has had no way of coming down from this rut, because he was respecting Yunho’s wish for him not to bring anyone back to the house.
All because Yunho is too selfish to handle the idea of Yeosang fucking someone else.
Yeosang crawls over him, knees on either side of his hips, squeezing. If Yunho wanted to go anywhere—he doesn’t—he couldn’t. The other alpha reaches down to undo Yunho’s pants hastily, tugging them down impatiently along with his briefs. Yunho can’t breathe. Yeosang doesn’t touch him, just grabs Yunho’s hips firmly and flips him onto his stomach, scooting backward enough that he can pull Yunho’s ass into the air. It’s not romantic, not gentle, but Yunho almost swoons. At the same time, his alpha reacts violently, and he kicks out blindly behind him. Yeosang wraps his fingers around Yunho’s ankle smoothly, slamming it into the ground hard enough that Yunho bites his tongue to keep from snapping at him.
“Stop fighting,” Yeosang snarls.
“I’m trying,” Yunho retorts bitterly. He is, really. Yeosang may be freshly presented, but he thinks he should understand that submitting to another alpha is not something that just comes naturally to him.
Yunho hears the click of the bottle opening, and then he feels Yeosang pressing a slick finger against his hole. He hisses. His hips twitch, and he tries to twist out of Yeosang’s grasp, clawing at the hardwood as he attempts to slide out from under him. Yeosang grabs him immediately, easily, fingers digging into his hips. He presses him into the ground, not letting him move an inch. Yunho struggles against him.
“I told you to stop fighting,” Yeosang growls, pulling him back underneath him, pushing his ass back up into the air.
“Fuck you,” Yunho mumbles, and he hears Yeosang snort.
“You asked me to fuck you,” Yeosang mutters.
“I didn’t ask,” Yunho says automatically, which is a stupid lie.
“Oh, sorry. You begged,” Yeosang snarks, and Yunho goes quiet, pressing his forehead against the floor.
Holding on to his waist with one hand so hard Yunho can feel his skin bruise, Yeosang uses his other to push two fingers in at once. Yunho jerks underneath him and Yeosang tightens his grip even more, holding him firmly in place. He scissors his fingers a bit—certainly not enough, but Yunho doesn’t think there’d be a way for it to be enough—before pulling them out abruptly and pressing the tip of the bottle against Yunho’s hole, squeezing the lube directly into him. Yunho lurches forward and shouts, embarrassed. Yeosang drops the bottle with a thud and grabs Yunho by the hips, pulling him back into position.
“You wanted this,” Yeosang reminds him. He did. He does. Despite everything. He feels Yeosang press the head of his cock against his hole and he squeezes his hands into fists, his nails cutting into his palms, trying to breathe, trying to think, his thoughts flying through his mind, rapid-fire. For Yeosang. This is all for Yeosang. He loves Yeosang. That thought has just crossed his mind when Yeosang pushes inside him, the lube squelching in a way Yunho can only describe as disgusting. He feels it seep out of him as Yeosang forces his way inside, his girth splitting him open. He knows he’s fully inside him when Yeosang’s balls slap against his ass. Yunho’s mouth opens in a silent cry. He can’t think. His head is empty.
Yeosang holds him down. Yunho thrashes against him. In his head, he wants to go easy, wants to submit. But his alpha is rearing, wanting to attack. Yeosang presses on the back of his neck and the small of his back, holding him there, not moving until Yunho stops writhing, stops fighting. Yunho is delirious already, his head spinning and his heart pounding. Yeosang is inside of him. Yeosang wants him. Yeosang needs him. He doesn’t know if Yeosang is waiting for his verbal assent, but he gives it anyway.
“Okay,” he whispers, and the word has barely left his mouth before Yeosang is pulling his hips back, pulling out and then thrusting right back into him.
It hurts. Yunho shrieks. He fights not to resist, concentrating hard on not rolling over and punching Yeosang in the face. His pretty face. Yunho thinks it might be easier if he could see him, could force his brain into understanding. He wants this, wants Yeosang, would do anything for him. Even this. Especially this. Yeosang thrusts into him steadily, his hands back on Yunho’s waist, holding him exactly where he wants him as he plows into him. Through it all, there’s a haze of pleasure that clouds around Yunho’s head. He focuses on that, on the small shocks of euphoria that edge through the fog of discomfort, the physical and mental burn that courses through him.
“You’re mine,” Yeosang growls, and Yunho goes limp. His body stops fighting, stops resisting. Faintly, Yunho thinks, Oh.
Face pressed into the ground, his alpha finally quiet, curled up and dormant inside him, Yunho feels good. Yeosang is fucking him harder, angling his thrusts just right, and after one particularly harsh stroke inside of him, Yunho moans. Yeosang’s hips stutter almost imperceptibly, but Yunho notices. He’s always noticing when it comes to Yeosang, and he’s not going to stop now. He lets himself moan freely, uninhibited by anything, now, and Yeosang loves it, he can feel it in his thrusts inside of him and can smell it in the air and Yunho grins to himself like a fucking maniac. He’s crazy. He loves Yeosang, and he has him, and he’s fucking crazy.
Yeosang grunts, his fingers digging into Yunho’s skin, burning where he touches him. He yanks on the hair at the nape of Yunho’s neck to pull him up onto all fours and Yunho goes willingly.
“Do I feel good?” Yunho pants out, shoving two of his own fingers into his mouth to bite on as the pain and pleasure overwhelm him, holding himself up shakily with one arm.
Yeosang doesn’t reply, he’s not that lucky, but he does notice Yunho’s fingers in his mouth. Displeased, he leans forward, laying his body on top of Yunho’s so that he can pull Yunho’s fingers out from between his lips and replace them with his own. He pushes them in deep, reaching toward the back of his throat, and Yunho gags, his eyes watering.
“I should have known you’d be a needy little slut,” Yeosang growls in his ear, and Yunho moans around his fingers, clenching down on Yeosang’s cock. I’m not, he wants to protest, but isn’t he? Isn’t he here, on all fours, letting Yeosang use him like he’s nothing? A tear rolls down his cheek, not because he’s crying, but because he’s so overwhelmed, feeling Yeosang like this, in his ass and down his throat at once. It feels so right that Yunho does actually want to cry.
For one fleeting, blurry moment, Yunho wishes that he were an omega so that Yeosang would do this to him all the time.
He tries to speak around Yeosang’s fingers and Yeosang takes them out, threading his saliva-slick fingers through Yunho’s hair and pulling his head back.
“Talk, puppy,” he orders, dragging his teeth along Yunho’s neck.
“I—fuck—I—” he doesn’t want to disappoint Yeosang, but he can’t speak. His brain is a jumbled mess, he can’t even think—all he can do is feel. He whimpers softly. Yeosang tsks.
“You’re not very good at this,” he says, and Yunho hears a hint of adoration in his voice. There he is. Yunho makes an indignant sound nonetheless.
“What… do you want?” he manages to squeak out, whining when Yeosang lets go of his head and puts both hands on his hips, pulling Yunho’s ass flush against his groin. Yunho hangs his head, staring down at the floor and trying to stop the room from spinning around him.
“I kind of like you like this, actually,” Yeosang muses, like he’s talking to himself. It’s so hot, the way he acts like Yunho isn’t even anything, like he’s just there for Yeosang to fuck. He places one hand on Yunho’s abdomen, holding his ass up for him to fuck into. “Quiet.”
Yunho bites down on his tongue so hard he almost draws blood. It’s too much, too deep—he can’t tell what hurts and what feels good anymore. His fingers are curling pathetically against the floor, as if he’ll be able to dig his fingernails into the wood and find some sort of stability. Yeosang thrusts inside so deep that Yunho feels bile rising in his throat and he gives up on holding himself up, letting his upper half crash into the floor. His chin hits the wood so hard that he sees stars. Vaguely, he wonders how he’ll be able to explain the inevitable bruise to his friends.
Yunho can feel Yeosang’s knot rising, stretching him further than anything he’s ever felt, further than he can take, really, but he has no choice, Yeosang isn’t going to pull out, and Yunho doesn’t want him to. He told Yeosang to use him, and he is.
“I feel you,” Yunho mumbles into the floor, drool pooling under his cheek. Yeosang is growing inside of him steadily. He’s dizzy, his mind completely blank.
Yeosang is saying something to him, but he can’t make it out. His vision is tunneling and everything is getting very, very quiet. All he can focus on is the feeling of Yeosang filling him completely, stretching him around his knot, filling him to the brim.
His knot swells to its largest, and Yunho blacks out.
⭑
Yunho wakes up a few hours later, his entire body aching. He can’t move. He’s on top of Yeosang, whose arms are wrapped around him protectively, one across his stomach, the other around his neck. His head is buried in Yunho’s back, forehead pressed into his spine. They’re in his bed, Yunho realizes. Yeosang somehow managed to move them into his bed while Yunho was still latched onto him.
Yunho wiggles a little in his grasp and Yeosang growls, pulling Yunho’s body tighter to his.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Yunho grumbles. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” It’s true. He’s definitely not going to be able to walk for several days. Still, his heart jumps at the revelation that Yeosang considers him important enough to protect, even in his sleep.
Yunho feels twin pin pricks in his shoulder. Yeosang is biting him, digging his fangs into Yunho’s skin.
“Yeosang,” he groans, twisting onto his side and dragging Yeosang with him. He manages to turn his head enough to see that Yeosang’s eyes are still closed. Yunho decides he will not feel any type of way about Yeosang biting him while mostly unconscious. “Yeosang,” he repeats, gentler this time. Yeosang’s eyes open slowly. When he registers Yunho staring at him, he removes his fangs from Yunho’s skin and smiles softly at him.
There he is. His Yeosang. They have a lot to talk about, but Yunho is pleased that he seems to have helped Yeosang out of the worst of his rut. The toll that it took on his body is irrelevant.
Before either of them can say anything, the door opens, and the two of them turn to stare at it in confusion. Standing there in the doorway, looking just surprised as they are, is San.
“I— Oh,” San stammers, taking a small step backward. “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay,” Yunho says. “Baby, it’s okay.” He goes to move toward him, forgetting that he’s attached to Yeosang. He smacks at the hand of Yeosang’s that’s wrapped around his waist, and Yeosang turns belatedly to look at him.
“Get out of me,” he hisses.
Yeosang makes a displeased face, but he listens. For once. “It’s gonna hurt,” he warns him.
“I know,” Yunho snaps. He doesn’t have time for this. He needs to take care of San.
Yeosang places one hand on Yunho’s shoulder and the other on the small of his back, pushing Yunho off of him as he pulls his cock out of him brusquely. Yunho falls forward onto his hands and knees, gasping, lightheaded.
“Are you okay?” Yeosang asks quietly, placing a hand on Yunho’s calf.
“I’ve been better,” Yunho replies. He raises his head to look at San, who is staring, entranced, at the two of them, his gaze alternating rapidly between Yeosang’s dick and Yunho’s ass. His pupils are wide and his hands are trembling slightly. Yunho can smell San’s pheromones rolling off of him, sweet and heady. Fuck.
Yunho gets off the bed and falls down immediately, clutching at the side of the bed as he tries to stabilize himself. Fuck fuck fuck. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk. Seeing him in a pile on the floor, Yeosang climbs out of bed after him, helping him to his feet and wrapping the duvet around their waists, which would be sweet and thoughtful if the damage hadn’t already been done. San’s scent is already changing; reacting, as he does, to the two of them.
Yeosang holds Yunho up with one arm around his waist, and Yunho leans heavily into his side. Yeosang is so warm, so strong. For a moment, he wonders why he ever doubted this would work.
“I’m sorry,” San is saying again, and Yunho turns back to look at him, remembering why he got out of bed in the first place.
“It’s okay,” Yunho repeats softly, stomping on Yeosang’s foot under the duvet.
“It’s okay,” Yeosang echoes. Yunho resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“Come here, Sannie,” Yunho coos. San shuffles into the room, his eyes darting across his surroundings. The clothes strew on the floor, the empty bottle of lube. Not to mention the alpha stench flooding the room. Yunho almost feels embarrassed.
Yunho takes an unsteady step in front of Yeosang, who holds him up firmly with two hands wrapped around his ribs, letting the duvet fall at their feet. It’s not like it can cover up the smell of sex that’s clouding the entire room, and San is already so worked up.
“Hi, baby,” he says to San, taking his face in his hands. “What’s wrong? What are you doing back early?”
San looks at the ground.
“Seonghwa sent me back because I wasn’t feeling well,” he utters. “I was supposed to, um...” He trails off, still staring intently at the ground.
“Yes?” Yunho urges, smoothing San’s bangs back.
“I was supposed to stay away from you until everyone else comes back,” San finishes.
“Which one of us?” Yeosang asks, peering out from behind Yunho and leaning his head against the side of his bicep.
“...Both of you,” San mumbles.
“You came in here looking for Yeosang?” Yunho asks kindly. San fidgets, tugging at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, like he needs it off.
“I… could smell both of you. I thought, maybe, you two were, um…” San kicks at the floor. “I thought maybe you were fighting.”
Yunho bites his lip so that he doesn’t smile.
“We were,” he says. San tips his head back up at him, his eyes glassy and wet.
“We worked it out,” Yeosang says smugly. Yunho really, really wants to hit him.
“Why don’t you feel good?” Yunho asks, ignoring Yeosang. He smooths his hands down San’s neck and San’s eyelashes flutter. “Is it your heat?”
San nods slowly, staring into his eyes. He swallows hard. “I could tell it was coming. After…” His eyes dart over to Yeosang, and Yunho understands instantly. San has always been so sensitive and so susceptible. Even minor changes in their pack’s alpha’s scents can set him on edge, and Yeosang’s rut would have hit him harder than the rest of them. He already knows that being in this room with them is only making it worse. One rutting alpha would be enough to send him into a spiral, but having two of them here, and seeing what he saw…
“I thought I had a couple days…” San continues. He’s avoiding Yunho’s gaze again. Yunho can smell the heat oozing off of him, rolling out into the air in waves.
“You’re in heat, baby?” Yunho asks gently.
“It’s coming,” says San.
“What do you need?” Yunho asks quietly. San whimpers softly.
“Need you,” he whispers.
“Which one of us?” Yeosang asks, again.
“Both,” San answers, again.
“Honey,” Yunho says, running a hand through San’s hair. San leans into his touch, panting quietly. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”
It’s Yeosang’s turn to nudge him covertly, squeezing him tightly with one hand. Yunho ignores him, as he is wont to do.
“I do,” San says softly, reaching up to wrap a hand around Yunho’s wrist.
“What can we do?” Yunho asks, brushing San’s bangs back. San chews on his lip.
“I—I need,” San starts, gasping when Yunho slides a hand under his shirt, pressing on his abdomen. San collapses into him, pushing his face into Yunho’s chest and breathing hot air onto him.
“Need what?” Yunho asks, moving his hand to San’s back, pulling him closer. Yeosang steps out from behind him, keeping one hand around Yunho’s waist as he smooths his other hand over the back of San’s head.
“Need you to breed me,” San whispers, rubbing his face against Yunho’s chest and leaning back into Yeosang’s touch at the same time.
Yeosang catches Yunho’s eye, and Yunho realizes that he can read him again. The excitement, the apprehension, all of it. Yeosang tilts his head at him and Yunho nods subtly. A smile spreads across Yeosang’s face. He kisses the side of San’s head and murmurs “We’ve got you, honey.” San lets out a weak whine in response.
Yunho tries to think through the logistics of the three of getting into the bed when only one of them is capable of walking without falling over, but then Yeosang is picking San up and plopping him down on the bed before coming back to help Yunho over to the bed. Once again, Yunho wonders why he ever thought this wouldn’t work.
Yeosang gets San undressed quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and tugging his shorts and underwear off, adding them to the mess of Yunho and Yeosang’s clothes strewn across the floor.
Yunho props himself up against the headboard, and Yeosang helps San straddle Yunho’s lap, knees on either side of him as Yunho’s dick presses up against San’s ass. He’s soaked, his slick leaking out of him and smearing against Yunho’s cock as San adjusts in his lap. Yeosang is close behind, kneeling between Yunho’s spread legs and pressing his front to San’s back, kissing San’s neck gently. He’s gentle with San in a way that he wasn’t with Yunho, but Yunho doesn’t mind it. He likes it, actually. He’d rather Yeosang be rough with him, take it all out on him, so that he can be sweet to San.
“Am I still your baby?” San asks shyly, looking up at him through his lashes.
“Are you jealous of Yeosang?” Yunho coos, stroking his hair. “Or me?” San buries his face in Yunho’s shoulder.
Yunho squeezes Yeosang’s hand, and he looks up from the purple bruise he’s been sucking into San’s neck, his eyes unfocused and hazy. Reluctantly, he detaches his mouth from San’s skin and whispers in his ear, “You’re our baby, Sannie.” San huffs quietly, squeezing his knees into the sides of Yunho’s hips.
“...Okay,” San whispers. He sounds only half-convinced. They’ll just have to show him.
Yunho wraps his hand around San’s dick, using his precum to ease the slide. He can fit almost all of San in his hand at once. It’s not that San is small, it’s just that Yunho’s hands are so big. It’s a running joke in their pack—funny, until one of them wants to have sex with him, and then suddenly no one finds it funny. Yeosang’s hands slide up San’s sides, brushing over his ribs before he wraps his hands around San’s chest, toying with his nipples. San keens, leaning back into Yeosang, pressing his back against Yeosang’s chest and using him for leverage as he thrusts up desperately into Yunho’s hand. Yunho feels waves of slick gush out of him intermittently, wetting Yunho’s thighs and the bed below them.
“How do you feel, baby?” Yunho asks, increasing the pace with which he strokes San. The omega shudders, twisting his hips in Yunho’s lap.
“Feel good,” San says faintly, reaching forward and grabbing at Yunho’s other hand. Yunho intertwines their fingers and San uses his arm for support, clutching onto it and using it to hold himself up. “I need…” he trails off, dropping his head down to look at Yunho, hard and aching, between his thighs.
“Yeah?” Yunho asks, chiding him gently.
“I want—you. Both. Inside,” San says, meeting Yunho’s eye desperately. He looks a little nervous when neither of them say anything. “Please,” he adds quietly. Yunho wonders if San feels him get even harder against him. Yeosang pushes San up off of him and San reluctantly straightens his spine again, letting go of Yunho’s hand and balancing himself by placing both of his palms flat on Yunho’s chest. Yeosang sits back on his calves, and Yunho pulls San closer by his ass.
“You want both of us?” Yunho asks, trailing his fingers down San’s spine. He presses on San’s hole when he gets to it and San whines, another wave of slick gushing out of him as Yunho presses the tip of one finger inside. “In here?”
Yeosang is watching the two of them, one hand on his cock, stroking himself slowly. He’s staring at them protectively, his gaze surprisingly tender as he watches Yunho push his finger all the way inside. Yunho likes it, the way Yeosang watches the two of them like they’re his. Yunho supposes that they are.
“Yes,” San whimpers, clenching around Yunho’s finger. Yunho adds two more at once and San moans, dropping his head, his chin hitting his chest.
“Okay,” Yunho says softly, running his free hand through his hair. “Why don’t you ask your alpha to help us, honey?” He pulls his fingers out, much to San’s dismay.
San whines, but he manages to lift his head and twist around to stare at Yeosang. “Need you, alpha,” he pleads, and Yeosang crawls closer, placing his hands on the backs of San’s thighs, just below his ass, pulling him back and up toward him. San collapses into Yunho, allowing Yeosang to pull his hips into the air, his head ending up pressed into Yunho’s abdomen. Yunho watches as Yeosang shoves two fingers into his hole, and he feels it when San moans, feels the vibrations of his throat against his stomach. He’s so distracted by watching Yeosang thrust his fingers in and out, harder and faster than Yunho did, that he doesn’t notice San pushing himself up, digging his hands into the bed on either side of Yunho’s torso so that he can lean down and take Yunho in his mouth.
It takes everything in him not to jerk forward, not to thrust up into San’s mouth when he feels him lick tentatively around the tip.
“Sannie,” Yunho groans, and San seems pleased with his reaction, pushing his face lower, hollowing his cheeks. It’s sloppy, the way he uses his tongue and his jaw, like it’s more to satisfy San’s need to have something in his mouth than it is to make Yunho feel good, and Yunho doesn’t mind at all. If San wants his cock in his mouth, he can have it. When Yeosang adds a third and a fourth finger, San cries out around him, his elbows buckling. Unable to hold himself up, he swallows the rest of Yunho inadvertently, taking him into his throat as his face pushes flush against Yunho’s abdomen.
“Sannie,” Yunho says again, gentler this time, as San gags around him. “Baby, it’s okay.” He’s a little worried by the sounds coming out of San, and he places his fingertips on the underside of San’s jaw, tipping his head up toward him. San’s eyes are wet, tears running down his face, but he doesn’t seem to want to take Yunho out of his mouth. He pulls off enough to be able to breathe before swallowing him again. Yunho glances up at Yeosang, who catches his eye. He nods once. Yunho watches as he uses his free hand to squeeze San’s ass.
Yunho tangles his hands in San’s hair and pulls him off of him, and when he tilts San’s head back up at him, San’s mouth is still open, tongue out. Fuck. Yunho bets he would let him knot his mouth, if he asked.
“Come on, honey,” Yunho says gently. Yeosang tucks his arms beneath San’s armpits and lifts him back up, guiding San back into Yunho’s lap. San falls into Yunho again, looping his arms behind Yunho’s head. San ruts weakly against him, rubbing his dick on Yunho’s abs.
Yunho reaches around him, between San’s spread legs so that he can line his cock up with San’s soaked hole. Yeosang did a number on him, certainly more than he gave to Yunho. San’s hole is wet and open, taking the tip with no resistance when Yunho presses it inside. San licks at Yunho’s neck, whining and moaning as Yeosang places both hands on his waist and pulls him down onto Yunho’s cock.
San lets out a small sob when Yunho is buried all the way inside, his tears and saliva making a wet mess on Yunho’s neck. “Alpha,” San whimpers, and Yunho doesn’t know if he’s talking to him or to Yeosang but it hardly matters. Yeosang is behind San again, his chest pressed against San’s back. Yunho can feel his cock against the crack of San’s ass, brushing against Yunho’s shaft as they both move San on and off of his cock, Yunho’s hands on San’s ass and Yeosang’s on his waist. Together they fuck San down onto Yunho’s cock, their hands all over his body.
“Need Yeosang,” San mumbles into Yunho’s neck, and when Yunho glances up at the other alpha, he’s already looking down, pressing the tip of his cock against San’s quivering rim.
Yunho lets out a steady string of curses as Yeosang pushes inside of San, his cock rubbing against Yunho’s in a way that almost makes his eyes roll back. San screams, crying into Yunho’s chest, twitching in his arms. San is so impossibly tight around them, slick and wet. Yunho pushes San’s sweaty bangs back, turning his face up toward him.
San is a wreck. His whole face is red and warm, his eyes rolled back in his skull, his mouth open slightly. Tears are flowing freely down his face, and Yunho brushes them away as fresh ones appear.
“You okay, baby?” Yunho asks softly. Yeosang is biting on San’s neck, lapping at the marks he leaves behind.
“Mmph,” San mumbles, biting down hard on Yunho’s collarbone. Yunho cannot help but think that there is an awful lot of biting going on, but can he blame them? He wants to chew on each and every part of both of their bodies, leave the imprint of his mouth all over their skin.
Yeosang is vibrating, he can feel it even with a body between them, his excited energy passing through San like a conduit. He’s doing surprisingly well. Yunho had been worried he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from an omega in heat, especially San, but he seems to be doing okay. Yunho supposes that the fact that he’s knotted one of the two of them already probably helps. Once again, he’s grateful to have taken the worst of Yeosang’s rut so that San can have this.
“’M okay,” San whispers into Yunho’s chest, sniffling. “’M full…”
“I know, baby,” Yunho says softly, kissing the top of his head.
When Yeosang pulls his hips back, all three of them moan, the feeling of him dragging against Yunho’s cock and San’s rim so overwhelming, so perfect.
“Shit,” Yeosang mutters. He moves one of his hands to San’s shoulder and keeps the other on his hip, pulling San back onto his cock as he pushes it inside of him. San can’t stop crying, his chest heaving as sobs wrack his body.
“Sannie,” Yunho murmurs, worried, and San manages to look up at him with one eye, the other side of his face smushed into Yunho’s chest.
“Feels good,” San whimpers, wiping at his eyes with one hand, “Let me… lemme have all of you,” he babbles, using all the strength left in his body to clench down around them.
With Yeosang fucking in and out, Yunho focuses on fucking up, thrusting as hard as he can up into San and grinding into his ass. He places both of his hands on San’s hips, finding Yeosang’s fingers pressed into San’s skin and intertwining them with his. San is jolted against Yunho with each thrust of Yeosang into him.
“Need it—please—” San begs, clenching around both of them again. “Please, alphas, fill me up, breed me, need it, please, please.”
Yunho glances up at Yeosang, who is already staring at him. Yunho cocks his head at him, and Yeosang shakes his head.
That leaves him, then.
“Okay, baby, I’ve got you,” Yunho says softly, thrusting into San harder, kicking his hips up into him. “Gonna fill you up nice and good, okay?”
“Just wanna be full,” San mumbles, his hot tears falling onto Yunho’s chest. “Full of you.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Yunho murmurs. “We’ll take care of you.”
Yeosang has started to grind forward into San, his cock rubbing deliciously against Yunho’s. San’s slick is all over all three of them, wetting all of their thighs.
“You’re taking us so well,” Yeosang murmurs in San’s ear. “Just like you were made to.”
San gasps when he feels Yunho’s knot start to swell. Yunho groans; it’s making everything tighter, stretching San even more than before. San’s breathing has become erratic, and he clutches helplessly at Yunho’s body as he convulses around both of their cocks. Yunho is getting larger by the second, and Yeosang is thrusting determinedly into San again, faster and harder than before.
“Sangie,” Yunho grunts out when he knows they’re almost out of time, barely able to hear his own voice over the sound of San crying, and Yeosang pulls out at the last possible second, rutting against San’s ass before spilling all over his back. San whines at the feeling of Yeosang’s release smearing over his skin, and then he’s moaning again as Yunho’s knot swells, stretching San a little bit more even despite having had both of them inside him. San lets out one last moan, a loud, deep one that vibrates Yunho’s rib cage, and then he’s gone, his head lolling, unconscious, on Yunho’s chest.
It takes him a while to come down. San is completely passed out, and he’s purring softly against Yunho’s chest, the happiest in the world with a knot inside of him. Yeosang scoots up the bed to lean against the headboard with Yunho, laying his head on his shoulder and carding his fingers through San’s hair.
“Can you make it to his nest?” Yeosang asks quietly.
“I think so,” Yunho replies. He peers down at San again, who is dead to the world, his head heavy on Yunho’s chest. “He’s not waking up anytime soon.”
“Can you walk?” Yeosang asks, and Yunho likes him too much right now to even pretend to be offended by the question.
“I’ll manage,” Yunho murmurs, glancing over at Yeosang. Once again, he’s looking at the two of them with endearment, satisfaction clear on his face. Yunho would blush if his entire body wasn’t already flushed and sweaty.
“I’ll get a towel,” Yeosang says softly, crawling out of bed and returning a few minutes later with a few hand towels, one damp and two dry. Yunho starts to move a hand to reach for one, but Yeosang seems content to clean them up himself, wiping up San’s slick and Yunho’s sweat gently, drying them off when he’s done. He likes it, Yunho realizes. Yeosang likes taking care of them, likes seeing the two of them together like this. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel so bad about wishing he could see San and Yeosang knotted together earlier. Something is tugging at him, but this isn’t the time to think about it, so he just turns back to Yeosang, instead.
Yeosang helps him off the bed and to his feet, both of them moving as slowly as they can to avoid jostling San, though Yunho doubts he will be waking up in the next twelve hours. With one of Yeosang’s arms around his waist and San’s limbs wrapped around him like a koala, they manage to make it to San’s room.
It smells so much like him, and like Yeosang, that Yunho has to pause in the doorway for a moment, remembering how to breathe. He’s had them both already, and yet smelling their scents together like this is overwhelming. With Yeosang’s help, he gets over to San’s nest, which seems to be made up almost entirely of both Yunho’s and Yeosang’s cast-offs. Yunho knew San was a bit of a clothes thief, but he had never considered what San was using his clothes for. There are a few pieces of clothing from the other boys, particularly Seonghwa, but all the rest of it is his and Yeosang’s.
Huh.
Yunho climbs into the nest and settles onto his side, San still wrapped tightly around him. Yeosang lays on the other side of them, tucking his face into San’s neck.
“Are you okay?” Yeosang asks quietly after a while. Yunho pulls his head out of San’s neck in order to look at Yeosang, who is already staring at him. Yeosang’s expression is not quite worried, but not quite content, either.
“I’m okay,” Yunho says softly. He bites his lip. “Are you always like that?”
Yeosang shakes his head. San stirs, a small whine slipping past his lips. Yeosang caresses his back until he tucks his head back into Yunho’s neck and gets quiet again.
“I’ve never… That was the first time it’s been like that. Ever. It was because I didn’t have an outlet, but it was also… I mean, I’ve never had sex with another alpha before.” He’s quiet for a while. “Did I hurt you?”
Yunho smiles wryly to himself. “Yeah. But I wanted you to.” He hesitates. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t… take care of yourself.”
Yeosang chuckles. “I didn’t want to, Yunho. Why do you think last time it was one omega after the other? No one could satisfy me, because they weren’t you.”
Yunho feels a little faint.
“Have you ever…?” Yeosang continues. It’s just one question, but he’s asking a dozen things at once.
“I’ve never let anyone do that to me. I mean, I let people fuck me, before I presented. But I’ve never been knotted.” When he remembers how it felt to lie there in Yeosang’s arms, still attached to him, warmth floods his chest. “I… I liked it. I don’t think I’d like it if it was anyone but you, though,” he says softly.
“Yeah,” Yeosang says. “I don’t think I’d want that with anyone else, either. I mean, San, but that’s different.” He doesn’t say it, but it still makes Yunho wince. They’re not supposed to be together, the two of them. It doesn’t hurt any less now than it did before. Yunho stares at the ceiling.
“I don’t care, you know,” Yeosang says after a bit. “I don’t care that we’re the same. It never mattered to me. But you were so torn up over it, and you never even tried to talk to me, so I left you alone. I thought you’d come around eventually. I didn’t realize how scared you were of the whole thing. And I was mean, I know. I’m sorry. I just… I guess I felt it a little, too. I loathed the idea that it would be hard for us, when we wanted it to be easy. I knew I wasn’t going to be an omega, though. I don’t know how, but I knew.”
“Did you ever hope you would be wrong?” Yunho asks.
“No,” Yeosang replies. “I like being who I am. And I like how you are, too. It’s a little harder, yeah. But it’s not impossible. Two alphas isn’t the most unusual thing in the world.”
I know,” Yunho says quietly. “I wasn’t scared,” he continues. “I think I was just mad, but not at anyone but myself. For being selfish.”
“It’s not selfish to want someone,” Yeosang says gently.
“It was, the way I wanted you,” Yunho says. “I wanted to claim you, and when I realized I wouldn’t be able to, I couldn’t handle it.”
Yeosang laughs softly. “You think I didn’t want to claim you, too?” He props himself up on one arm. Yunho stares over San’s shoulder at him. Yeosang smiles softly at him. “It was even worse, because from the moment you presented, I knew I never could.”
“I guess I should have just talked to you,” Yunho says. “I love you.” It’s far from the first time he’s told Yeosang he loves him, but this time, it feels like it carries the weight of the world.
“I know,” Yeosang says softly. “I love you, too. You know I do. It’s going to be okay. I want this, if you do.”
“Of course I do,” Yunho says. He smiles to himself. “I’d kiss you, but…” his gaze drops down to San, curled up on his chest.
Yeosang gives him a crooked smile. “I love him, too,” he says quietly, searching Yunho’s face for something. Yunho hopes that he finds it.
“Me, too,” Yunho whispers. “Do you think he knows?”
“He knows,” Yeosang says, surprising Yunho with his assuredness. “He was sad when we weren’t talking. Every time we fucked, he’d cry after, because he wanted you to be there, too.”
Yunho’s stomach drops. “Fuck,” he whispers. “He never…”
Yeosang shakes his head. “He didn’t want to upset you any more. He… we… decided we’d be okay waiting. He wanted to be there for you without causing you any more distress.”
“Oh,” Yunho says faintly. He thinks through all of the times that he fell into San’s bed, and about how every time he did, San smelled like Yeosang.
“It’s okay,” Yeosang says, dragging his fingers across San’s back. “Now look at us.”
“Yeah,” Yunho replies quietly. He kisses the top of San’s head, and San exhales a contented sigh.
“It will be okay,” Yeosang says again.
“I know,” Yunho says.
⭑
Seonghwa finds them the next day. Yunho can smell him before he sees him.
“Can you deal with him?” he mumbles in Yeosang’s ear.
Yeosang nods, peeling himself off of the two of them and climbing out of the nest to approach Seonghwa. Seonghwa covers his eyes dramatically, so Yeosang digs around until he finds a pair of sweatpants and tugs them on. By coincidence or intention, they’re an old pair of Yunho’s.
“I told him to stay away from you two,” Seonghwa hisses once Yeosang is decent. Yunho covers San’s ears with his hands.
“Come on, hyung, did you think he was going to listen to that?” Yeosang groans. “Why’d you send him back alone?”
Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two were supposed to be nowhere near each other,” he grumbles. “I expected this from Yunho, but you, Yeosang?”
“I can hear you,” Yunho snaps.
“Good,” Seonghwa replies. He pauses. “What are you both doing in here, anyway? Weren’t you two seconds from ripping each other’s throats out the last time I saw you?”
“We need to take care of San, and your nervous energy is going to stress him out,” Yeosang says, deflecting smoothly, placing a hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder and guiding him toward the door. Seonghwa looks behind him uneasily, like he’s trying to piece it all together.
“Be gentle with him,” he says, resigned, when he reaches the door. “He’s fragile. Don’t break him.”
Yunho tucks his head in San’s neck so that Seonghwa doesn’t see his grin.
“Bring him some soup later,” Yeosang says, still pushing Seonghwa out the door. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Alright,” Seonghwa says reluctantly, looking over his shoulder once more before allowing himself to be removed from the room. “Be gentle,” he says again, and Yeosang shuts the door in his face as politely as he can.
Yeosang rejoins them once Seonghwa is gone.
“When do we have to tell them?”
Yeosang cards his fingers through Yunho’s hair. “Let’s give it some time,” he says softly. “We need to talk to San first.”
“Yeah,” Yunho says, looking down at him fondly. He’s still fast asleep. Yunho really needs to pull out of him, but he doesn’t really want to. But really, he should. “Can you…?” he gestures to where he and San are connected, and Yeosang nods, getting to his knees.
Carefully, Yeosang lifts San off of Yunho. Yunho winces as he slips out of him. Yunho scoots toward the side of San’s nest, making space for him, and Yeosang lays San down next to him on his back before settling down on the other side of him.
San opens his eyes slowly, looking first at Yeosang, then at Yunho. When he registers their position, he smiles softly, closing his eyes again. “Do you guys like each other now?” he asks in a small voice, turning onto his side and tucking his face in Yeosang’s chest.
“We always did,” Yeosang says gently, rolling onto his back and pulling San on top of him. It’s Yunho’s turn to get closer, now, flopping onto his stomach and throwing an arm over the two of them.
“I know,” San mumbles, his voice muffled in Yeosang’s chest. “Does that mean we can be together now?”
“Yeah,” Yunho says kindly. He’s never felt so endeared toward the two of them. “It does.”