Work Text:
There was only one rule: Yeosang wasn’t allowed to cum. Everything else was free game, and Yeosang would be a good boy and take whatever they gave him.
Seonghwa was the first to visit.
He greeted Hongjoong casually, hands in the pockets of his track pants and his hair tied back in a ponytail. He didn’t acknowledge Yeosang at all when he moved to sit on the couch directly behind him. The back of Yeosang’s neck tingled the second Seonghwa left his line of sight.
“How did the production meeting go?” Seonghwa asked. “Did they approve your changes?”
“Yes and no,” Hongjoong replied. The chair squeaked as he turned to talk to his guest, and Yeosang had to fight to hold position and not glance over at him. “They agreed that the bridge needed to be rearranged, but Dennie-hyung said that he was looking for more of an electro-synthwave feel, so I’m redoing it.”
“The whole thing?”
“Yeah. I’ve got the time, I want to give this proper attention.”
“If you say so,” Seonghwa said, incredulous. “This one’s pretty far out, have they even finished drafting the lyrics yet?”
“I think Mingi submits his part on Tuesday? I haven’t gotten a review on my piece yet.”
They continued to talk about work, like Yeosang wasn’t kneeling on the floor, completely naked save for the leather d-ring collar and the tight, silver cockring at the base of his straining red erection. Like Yeosang wasn’t flushed and trembling—it wasn’t cold, Hongjoong always turned the heat on for him, but the exposure and the blatant disregard for his presence had Yeosang’s face hot and his fists quivering atop his thighs.
“Hey, can I have a taste real quick?”
Yeosang’s blood roared in his ears.
“Yeah, go ahead.” Hongjoong waved his hand dismissively. “I’m gonna keep working on this though.”
“Sure.”
An unseen hand on his collar suddenly yanked Yeosang backward. He choked lightly as he went, breaking out of position to Seonghwa’s whims. Seonghwa didn’t speak to him, just tugged the collar every which way until Yeosang figured out he was supposed to get on the couch. Yeosang kept his eyes down as he crawled onto the cushions. Seonghwa didn’t like eye contact. It was disrespectful.
But apparently he was doing it wrong, because Seonghwa gave an annoyed click of his tongue. Before Yeosang could scramble to figure out his error, Seonghwa’s hand was on his collar and he was being forcibly draped over the arm of the couch, ass in the air and forearms bracing his weight. Yeosang huffed out a shaky breath, forcing himself to stare at the wheels of Hongjoong’s desk chair and no higher.
Seonghwa callously plucked the silicone plug out of Yeosang’s ass. Seconds later there was a hot tongue licking a long stripe across his hole, the warmth of it startling him. Yeosang bit his lip—it was far too early to make noise.
Seonghwa ate him ruthlessly, mercilessly. He knew that Yeosang’s dick was trapped between the rough fabric of the couch and his own body, and he used that to his advantage. His chin dug into Yeosang’s perineum and his nose slid in his crack with how deeply his face was pressed into Yeosang’s ass. That tongue seemed to rock him forward, squirming and wet and insistent, every jolt it gave scraping Yeosang’s dick against the couch—or maybe he was reading too much into this.
Seonghwa pulled back, leaving Yeosang panting shallowly and his nails digging into the carpet, arms already shaking. Seonghwa blew on his open, fluttering hole, just to be mean.
Hongjoong clicked away on his keyboard, and a melody started playing in the otherwise quiet room. Yeosang hadn’t heard much of it before, but now he could barely hear it at all, too focused on the slick noises of Seonghwa’s hand on himself behind him.
“That sounded good,” Seonghwa complimented. The hot head of his cock pressed into Yeosang slowly, and he bit back a whimper.
“Mmm, maybe,” Hongjoong hummed. “I think it’s the best I’ll get for now, but thanks for the input. Was there anything that you wanted me to include in the performance review this month?”
“Shit, they’re making you do that this time?” Seonghwa bottomed out quickly, barely giving Yeosang time to adjust. Seonghwa wasn’t uncomfortably thick, but he was long and it always took Yeosang’s breath away with just how deep he could go.
“Eh, I offered. We just finished promotions and I’ve got some things to say anyway.”
“Way to take initiative,” Seonghwa laughed. Laughed, like he wasn’t pounding Yeosang into the couch. Like the squeaking springs in the upholstery and the slap of Seonghwa’s hips on his ass weren’t the two most deafening sounds Yeosang could imagine.
Seonghwa fucked him like it was business. Not once did he speak to Yeosang or even acknowledge that he was there. He kept his conversation with Hongjoong, some asinine discussion about emails and deadlines that Yeosang couldn’t even pretend to follow. Seonghwa’s voice didn’t waver once—the only sign that he was even affected at all was the harsh grip on his hips.
All the blood was rushing to Yeosang’s head in this position. He panted at the heat of it, feeling dizzier with each thrust that scraped his dick across the arm of the couch. Torturous friction had him choking out little whines, small and high and barely contained in the back of his throat. Seonghwa liked it when he at least tried to be quiet.
Seonghwa’s hips stuttered once, twice, and then hot cum was spilling into Yeosang, leaking up up up until his whole body was filled with that warmth. Seonghwa heaved a sigh through his nose, not even a hum, and pulled out. Yeosang swallowed back a whimper at the abruptness of it, but then the plug was back, keeping that warmth safely inside.
Seonghwa stood, shuffling around and giving Yeosang’s ass a smack. Shakily, clumsily, Yeosang crawled his way down from the couch to return to his cushion on the floor and assume his position kneeling with his hands neatly on top of his thighs. His dick throbbed between his legs, red and leaking, but he ignored it. It was easy to ignore it, knowing that Hongjoong was right there, watching him through the little mirror that he had on his desk for that very purpose.
“Thanks for the conversation,” Seonghwa said, kissing Hongjoong on the top of the head. “Good luck on your emails.”
“Mhmm,” Hoongjoong said, distracted. “Make sure to close the door all the way.”
Seonghwa ruffled Yeosang’s hair on his way out. That action alone was enough to make Yeosang’s face heat even more. He allowed himself a small smile—good dogs could be pleased with themselves.
The next visitor arrived not twenty minutes later.
San knocked once before letting himself in, humming a tune under his breath.
“Aww, cute,” he said, and the fondness in his voice had Yeosang glancing up. San liked to see his face.
San wore a wide grin, and he walked towards Yeosang too quickly, like he was going to forget to—
“Hi hyung,” San greeted, bouncing over to nuzzle into Hongjoong’s cheek. Hongjoong grunted, but reached up to pet San’s head.
“You busy?”
“A little, but you’re fine Sannie.”
“Cool. Can I play with your puppy?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Permission granted, San gleefully crouched in front of Yeosang, petting through his hair and giggling when Yeosang leaned into his hand.
“Such a pretty puppy,” he murmured.
Then he flicked Yeosang’s aching, red cock. Yeosang inhaled sharply, but he only flinched a little when it dribbled hot pre-cum—his hands never left his thighs.
“So well behaved. Hyung trained you up good, didn’t he?”
Yeosang’s reply was to nuzzle further into the gentle hand in his hair. Yes, he was good and well behaved. He was good for his Master and for anyone who wanted to play.
“Lay down puppy, I want to sit on your face now.”
So Yeosang did. San placed his cushion under his head so it would be comfortable for both of them, then wasted no time in shucking all of his clothes off. San liked to be naked with him. Something about the closeness of it.
San lowered himself over Yeosang’s face, his balls and half hard cock resting on his nose bridge. He smelled like Seonghwa’s lavender body wash. That tight, pink hole fluttered enticingly, and Yeosang drooled a little. The pleased sigh that he earned at the first lick up San’s taint made his head spin with pride.
Yeosang wasn’t Seonghwa or Mingi, but he knew how to use his mouth pretty well, and what he lacked in skill he more than made up for in enthusiasm. He licked across San’s hole all the way up to his balls until everything was covered in spit. It smeared across his own face but he hardly noticed, not when the first breach of his tongue into San’s clenching heat earned him a low whine.
“Nnh, yes puppy,” San sighed. He stroked his own cock lazily, now fully erect and already starting to leak onto Yeosang’s forehead. San’s hips began to rock as Yeosang licked him open, his sighs ending in little moans as Yeosang’s tongue reached even deeper.
Yeosang hadn’t been told he was allowed to use his hands, so he kept them still by his sides. He settled for tongue fucking San instead, alternating between quick jabs of his pointed tongue and harsh suction from his lips.
It seemed to do it for San anyhow. He grunted and moaned as he jacked himself in time with Yeosang’s pace. His strong thighs quivered around Yeosang’s head—he meant to come like this.
Sure enough, a minute later San groaned and ground down hard on Yeosang’s tongue, crushing his head into the pillow. The hand on his dick sped up, and Yeosang felt a few hot drops of his release drip onto his forehead and slide languidly into his hair.
San sat back onto his chest, winded from his orgasm. He was flushed and smiling, hand still squeezing his cock and coated in white.
“Good boy,” San praised, and Yeosang preened.
San grabbed the bottle of lube that was placed next to Yeosang’s cushion for convenience and scooted down Yeosang’s body. He unceremoniously uncapped the lid and squirted lube directly onto Yeosang’s straining cock, the cold of it making him flinch. San watched the viscous liquid drip down to his pubes, then wasted no time positioning himself over the twitching, dripping length, eyes disappearing into a grin as Yeosang jumped when he lined himself up.
San sank down on his cock, and Yeosang threw his head back. He clenched his fists at his sides—he still hadn’t been given permission to touch. San was hot and tight and beautiful. His mouth hung open at the stretch, and his muscled chest arced out from how he was bracing himself on Yeosang’s thighs. His eyes fluttered and his neck and shoulders flushed. It was almost too much, but Yeosang forced himself to keep his eyes open. San liked to be watched.
“You’re— shit— you’re filling me so well, puppy,” San panted. “Gonna make me feel so good.”
Yes, Yeosang could do that. He could focus on making San feel good, and he could ignore the way his cock throbbed and twitched inside him.
San bounced on him experimentally. His cock slapped against his stomach, already hard again. Not that it had gone completely soft. San’s refractory period was unreal sometimes.
But Yeosang had to look away from it. The visual paired with the hot clench of San’s ass around his own cock could hurtle him towards a dangerous place if he let it. So instead he watched San’s face, watched the way his eyes closed and his lips sucked between his teeth as he began to ride Yeosang properly. San threw his head back, and the long column of his throat made Yeosang whine.
San huffed out a laugh.
“Yeah? Does the puppy like what he sees?” He picked his head back up and gave Yeosang a deceptively sweet smile. “Hey hyung, look how nghh, ah—look how good your puppy is being.”
Yeosang’s heart thumped in his chest in the brief silence.
“Yes, very nice,” Hongjoong said absently.
San groaned and began to stroke himself, his old cum easing the slide. His bouncing got more frantic, and Yeosang bit his lip fiercely at the hot drag of San’s insides. He was good, there was one rule, he would be good and follow it. San looked so pretty and he felt so good, and pleasure burned hot in Yeosang’s abdomen.
San finally came with a high moan, hand jacking furiously and hips grinding in slow circles as he rode it out. His hole squeezed so tight around Yeosang’s dick that he saw stars—he whined and dug his nails into his palms, suddenly way too close to the edge for comfort. His balls ached, drawn up tight, and he panted shallowly trying to calm himself down.
If San noticed his predicament, he didn’t say anything. He slumped in his afterglow, drawing lazy shapes in his own cum on Yeosang’s stomach. Then San scooped up some on two fingers and pressed them into Yeosang’s panting mouth. Yeosang obediently sucked them clean, letting San get a claim on him like this.
There were actually two rules: Yeosang could not come, and no one but Hongjoong could leave marks.
“Mmm, pretty puppy,” San sighed. He patted his spit-cleaned hand on Yeosang’s cheek, smiling at him like he’d just performed a very impressive trick.
He stood up, wincing only lightly when Yeosang’s very hard cock slipped out. He took his time picking his clothes up off the floor, admiring the way that Yeosang dutifully returned to his position, now covered in his cum.
“Thanks for letting me play,” San said to Hongjoong. He went in for a kiss but Hongjoong ducked out of the way.
“I don’t know where that mouth has been,” he said to San’s pout. “And put your shirt on before you leave, you horny little shit.”
San giggled but did not do that.
“Bye puppy! Be good.” He gave Yeosang a kiss on the head before he left, looking like the cat that got the cream. The door shut, plunging the room into silence.
Yeosang heard the next visitors before the door even opened.
Wooyoung and Jongho were bickering about one absurd thing or another, which cut off the second they came into the room. Jongho squatted down in front of Yeosang, just staring. Yeosang kept his eyes politely on his lap. San’s cum was cool and tacky on his abdomen.
“Yah, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung called, leaning against the doorframe. “Can we pet your dog?”
Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “Where’s the respect these days.”
“We even brought a present. Doggie, look!”
Yeosang lifted his head, and past where Jongho was looking down at him in disdain? Derision? Wooyoung was dangling something leather from his finger.
“What, you wanna take him on a walk for me?” Hongjoong scoffed, chair squeaking as he turned around to observe the newcomers.
“If you want,” Wooyoung shrugged. “I just think dogs are better behaved when leashed.”
“Please, as if he’d try anything,” Jongho said. “There’s nothing in his dumb head anyway.”
Yeosang stared at the leash, swallowing back a whimper. He hoped his Master would say yes. He would do anything Wooyoung and Jongho told him to, but with a leash—
Hongjoong grunted and turned back to his work. “Do what you want, just make sure the door stays closed.”
Wooyoung grinned, and Jongho reached out to pinch one of Yeosang’s nipples, making him bite down on his tongue and clench tightly on his plug. Wooyoung bullied Jongho out of the way and clipped the leash onto Yeosang’s collar. Rolling his eyes, Jongho settled behind Yeosang, sliding his hands up and down his body, stroking along his sides, squeezing his hips, massaging his chest, hands warm. Jongho liked his body—his breath tickled Yeosang’s nape.
Wooyoung tugged him forward by the leash. Yeosang jerked, pliant, face landing directly onto Wooyoung’s clothed crotch, half hard in his jeans.
“Desperate, are we?” Wooyoung mocked. He grabbed Yeosang’s jaw, tilting his head back and squeezing until his mouth dropped open. He shoved his fingers into Yeosang’s open mouth, four of them at once with the thumb keeping his jaw hooked open. He wiggled them intrusively, not allowing Yeosang to suck. They pressed down on the slick tongue, probing the back of his throat.
“C’mon doggie, stick out your tongue.” But Yeosang couldn’t. He squirmed against Wooyoung’s fingers, but he couldn’t budge. Wooyoung watched him whine and kept his fingers there until drool spilled down Yeosang’s chin.
“Messy,” Jongho murmured when some dripped onto his wandering hands. Wooyoung tugged on Yeosang’s leash and began tracing his fingers along his teeth.
“So sharp.” He dragged the pad of his forefinger along Yeosang’s canines. “I’d tell hyung to put a muzzle on you if I didn’t know how fucking stupid you are. Can’t even show me your tongue properly, much less bite someone.”
Yeosang’s eyes fluttered a little when Jongho properly tugged on his nipples. Saliva dripped down to Wooyoung’s wrist.
“I suppose it’s just as well,” Wooyoung said. He withdrew his hand from Yeosang’s mouth and tapped spit covered fingers on his cheek. “This way I can gag you with my cock.”
Wooyoung pulled his leash again, and Yeosang moaned. He could see Wooyoung filling out right in front of his nose, the denim bulging more with each passing second. Yeosang’s mouth watered at the smell of him.
“You want it so bad, don’t you,” Wooyoung tutted. “Ask for it.”
Yeosang looked up with wide, pleading eyes, trying to look as good and deserving as possible.
“C’mon doggie. Speak!”
Yeosang’s mouth hung open, uncertain. Did Wooyoung actually want him to—
“Dogs can’t talk Wooyoung,” Hongjoong sighed from across the room. Yeosang perked up at the sound of his Master’s voice.
Wooyoung scoffed. “What, no bite and no bark?” He pulled the leash so Yeosang’s face was pressed into his dick, hard and straining now. “Pity.”
“Will you hurry up?” Jongho grumbled. “I want a turn.”
“Patience, maknae-yah,” Wooyoung said. “We’re teaching him delayed gratification.”
“I’m pretty sure hyung is teaching him that, you’re just being an asshole.”
“Shut up,” Wooyoung laughed. “You’re just mad I got first dibs. Open wide doggie.”
Yeosang complied immediately. He let Wooyoung drag his head back by his hair, and by the time Wooyoung fished his leaking dick out of his jeans, drool was sliding down Yeosang’s hanging tongue and onto his own chest. Wooyoung liked him dumb.
Wooyoung started slow. He pushed his cock into Yeosang’s mouth inch by inch until his hips were flush to Yeosang’s nose. He held it there for a while, breathing deeply and grinding in little circles. He pulled back just as slowly, watching his spit soaked dick reappear from Yeosang’s stretched lips.
“Bet you don’t even know how to suck cock, do you doggie?” he hummed. “You expect me to do all the work? Hyung should train you better.”
Yeosang wanted to shake his head, no, he could, he would do it, his Master had trained him so well, but Wooyoung didn’t give him the chance. He grabbed Yeosang’s hair and pulled his head forward, fucking him down onto his cock. Yeosang slackened his jaw and let Wooyoung move him.
“That’s right, just be good and take it,” Wooyoung groaned. The leash got tighter with each forced bob of Yeosang’s head, which eventually devolved into Wooyoung holding his head in place while he fucked into his throat. “You at least know how to swallow it all, don’t you?”
Yeosang whined, unable to nod. He could be good. He wouldn’t waste a drop. Wooyoung was hot in his mouth, thick and full and plugging his throat with each pass. Precum was bitter on his tongue, leaking down his chin with his own saliva.
Jongho pressed up against him and Yeosang could feel his erection pressing into his lower back. Jongho’s mouth was by his ear, face close to where Wooyoung was fucking his skull, watching those hips move. Warm hands groped Yeosang’s chest intently—Yeosang moaned when fingers pressed into his hard nipples, each rub sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to his own cock.
Yeosang’s eyes rolled back in his head when Jongho ghosted a hand up his neck. The fingers held his throat lightly, feeling it work as Wooyoung went deeper and deeper.
Then Jongho pinched his nose shut.
Yeosang immediately started gagging. His eyes flew open and he frantically sought out Wooyoung’s gaze, desperate. His body twitched as Wooyoung kept going, a sadistic smile on his face, and Yeosang’s hands broke position to cling to Wooyoung’s shins. He’d have whined if he could—instead the tears that had gathered at his lash line began to stream freely down his cheeks.
“Aww, does doggie like that?” Jongho cooed, mocking. Yeosang’s cock jumped in his lap.
“Christ, he’s so tight,” Wooyoung groaned, smile faltering as Yeosang’s throat spasmed around him. “Keep him like that, fuck, I’m almost there.”
Yeosang twitched helplessly. He tried to stay still, he really did, but his legs jerked and his shoulders jumped with each choking gag. His head was filled with molasses, thick and slow, and blackness was starting to encroach on the edges of his vision, eyes a vignette lens. His whole world was slowly being reduced to the blood pounding in his ears and the heavy cock in his throat. Precum leaked down to his balls in a steady stream.
Jongho’s other hand pinched Yeosang’s nipple, and his back arched into the air. His hands flew up to clutch at Jongho’s wrist, but he didn’t try to pull it away—he was still good.
“Oh my god,” Wooyoung panted, hips stuttering. “C’mon, nngh, yes, like that—”
Yeosang’s eyes drooped. Wooyoung’s grip on his leash tightened, Jongho’s back was pressed against him, and Yeosang felt like he was floating. He could fall into them if he wanted, he knew they would catch him, that he would sink softly into warm palms and bruising fingers.
Wooyoung pulled out. Yeosang gasped, tipping forward dizzily as blood rushed back to his head. He rested against Wooyoung’s hip—they spoke above him, but he couldn’t hear them, his consciousness caught somewhere between the ringing of his ears and the blank white of his vision.
Jongho’s hand on the back of his neck pulling him back up forced him to focus. Wooyoung’s jaw clenched as he jerked himself, fist blurring, and Yeosang’s eyes crossed trying to see it.
“Doggie, open—“
Yeosang’s jaw dropped, more on instinct than anything else. He felt the tip of a hot cock on his tongue, and moments later his mouth flooded with warmth. He worked his mouth sloppily, belatedly trying to keep it all in, but his tongue was heavy and his lips were slack. He swallowed as much as he could, but he felt the excess leaking from the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin.
“Hah,” Wooyoung said, breathless, “knew you couldn’t swallow it all.”
He leaned down to Yeosang’s trembling jaw and licked a long stripe up his chin, catching his own release. He cooed when he saw that Yeosang’s eyes were brimming with fresh tears, flashing him a scathing grin and licking the rest of his cum from the seam of his lips.
“It’s alright doggie, I know you did your best.”
Jongho huffed in his ear, and then Yeosang’s back support was gone.
“Alright, move over,” he grumbled, snatching Yeosang’s leash from Wooyoung’s hands. Wooyoung giggled as Jongho manhandled him out of the way to take his position standing in front of Yeosang’s slack mouth, a frown setting his mouth in a pout while he fumbled at his zipper with one hand.
“So fucking messy,” Jongho murmured when he managed to fish his cock out.
“You’re welcome,” Wooyoung said brightly, settling himself behind Yeosang and immediately pressing his face into his neck. Yeosang shivered when a wet tongue dragged its way up to his ear.
Jongho didn’t give Yeosang a command, just grabbed his cheeks and squeezed until his jaw fell open wide enough. He didn’t even give Yeosang time to whimper before he shoved his cock inside, tugging on the leash, immediately hitting the back of his throat and making a few more reflexive tears drip down blotchy cheeks.
“Good dog,” Wooyoung cooed, licking the tears away. “You’ll take it from him too, won’t you?”
Yeosang would have nodded if he could, but Jongho was so deep in his throat that he could barely keep his eyes open, much less form a coherent thought. Through his hazy vision, Jongho looked focused, jaw clenched and a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, like it was taking all his concentration to fuck into Yeosang’s mouth and grip his hair and leash at the same time.
“Yeah you will,” Wooyoung continued. “You fucking love this, hm? Love being a useless dog that’s only good for taking cock?”
Yeosang’s eyes rolled up, overwhelmed. He was hot and aching all over, every point of contact searing like a brand, the heat of it all threatening to boil out of him. If he’d had the presence of mind, he would have felt guilty at the way his hands clawed at the carpet, rather than being neatly on his lap like they were meant to be.
“It really is enough for you, isn’t it?” Wooyoung was still running his goddamn mouth, like every word wasn’t dripping like molten lead down Yeosang’s spine. “You don’t even want to cum ‘cause your Master told you you weren’t allowed.”
He kissed Yeosang’s throat where Jongho’s cock bulged through it, and then put his veiny hand directly on Yeosang’s cockhead.
Yeosang arched away from it like he’d been burned, the touch so sensitive and electric that his vision whited out from something other than lack of oxygen. He let out a few garbled cries, distorted and pathetic, but Wooyoung’s hand didn’t move.
“Shit, fuck,” Jongho hissed, lip caught between his teeth. He pulled out briefly, and Yeosang gasped on air, desperate moans spilling freely from his mouth as Wooyoung smeared his fingers around his throbbing cockhead. Tears dripped steadily down his cheeks, and Wooyoung laughed behind him.
“Aww, poor doggie. Careful now, don’t disappoint your Master.”
Master. Was Master watching? Yeosang needed to know, he would be good, he could be good, he wouldn’t cum, but Wooyoung’s palm pressed so harshly into his dick that he couldn’t suppress a loud sob, pleasure crashing through him like a wave, and he really really wanted to be good, but—
“Be nice Wooyoung.”
The hand left his cock immediately at Hongjoong’s words, and Yeosang slumped forward, breath labored. He was grateful when Jongho stuffed his cock back inside his mouth, the weight of it distracting him from the shivers of an impending orgasm that he was desperately trying to hold off.
“We’re just playing,” Wooyoung pouted. “You said I could pet him.”
“I didn’t say stop, I said be nice.”
“Fine.”
And the hand was back on his dick, fingers tracing up the shaft, avoiding the head entirely. Yeosang trembled under the ministrations, putting all of his energy into keeping his hips still and not chasing the torturously light touches.
“C’mon dog,” Jongho growled above him. “You better fucking—let me see—”
After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jongho was spilling into his mouth, bitter and thick and entirely welcome. Yeosang let his jaw hang loosely, careful to breathe through his nose and not inhale cum. Jongho pulled back to see, dragging his cock through the mess and dripping it purposefully down Yeosang’s chin. Yeosang stared at his navel, feeling too heavy to lift his gaze any higher, too spent to move without a command. Wooyoung’s hand blessedly fell away.
Jongho sighed in satisfaction. “You should train your dog more hyung,” he said, tucking his cock away. “He’s fucking sloppy.”
“Yeah, like you had nothing to do with that at all,” Hongjoong said dryly.
“He likes it!” Wooyoung insisted, standing up and leaving Yeosang to slump forward in his daze. “You know he does. Look, he’s still drooling for it.”
“That’s cum Wooyoung.”
“Eh, potato potahto.”
Wooyoung unclipped the leash and gave Yeosang’s forehead a smacking kiss.
“He looks good either way. Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair now. Thanks for letting us play!”
Jongho pet through Yeosang’s hair once, giving him the briefest of smiles, one that almost made up for the feeling of his cum cooling on his chin and neck.
“Yes, thanks hyung,” he echoed. “Good luck on your work.”
“Yeah yeah,” Hongjoong called as they left. “Close the door all the way, you brats, aish.”
Yeosang shakily returned to his position, brain sluggish and body strung out. He focused on his breathing, trying to calm his racing heart rate and settle back into himself a bit. The silence was welcome, just him and his pulse and Hongjoong, his presence calming.
“You alright pup?”
Yeosang turned his head to see Hongjoong watching him through the mirror, expression unreadable.
“What’s your color?”
Without hesitation, Yeosang brought his hand up to show one pointed finger, their non-verbal sign for green. Yes, that had been a lot, but he was fine. He was still being good. He’d make his Master proud.
“Good boy.” The praise lit up Yeosang’s neural pathways like fireworks, and his dick leaked embarrassingly. “Sit nicely, I know you can. Damn, you really are a mess.”
Yeosang straightened, a bit of the haze cleared away by his Master’s command. He was a good boy, his Master said so, and good boys sat politely and waited for people to use them.
And wait he did. The minutes stretched on in silence as Hongjoong continued working uninterrupted, keyboard clacking away and lulling Yeosang into a mindless headspace, one where his only purpose was to sit and be pretty. He sank into the feeling of his head being so empty, delighting in being good and useful.
A knock at the door made him blink.
“Come in,” Hongjoong called.
Mingi stepped through the door, thick boots heavy on carpet, and Yeosang immediately tried to gauge what kind of mood he was in. Sometimes he was soft and teasing, all big smiles and edging Yeosang over and over with those plush lips before rubbing himself to completion on Yeosang’s abs. He would giggle and kiss Yeosang’s teary eyes, praising him and promising, just one more time, you can do it. Sometimes though, he was feeling more—
“Hyung,” Mingi greeted shortly. He closed the door behind him a bit too loudly and leaned against it, hands in his pockets. Yeosang kept his head down—this Mingi liked him a little pathetic.
“Mingi-yah.”
“Can I use your dog?” Mingi’s gaze was like a physical weight.
“Hmm, go ahead.”
“Do I have to be gentle?”
Yeosang swallowed in the silence, body a live wire as Hongjoong considered.
“Not if you don’t want to be.”
Mingi grunted. “Good. Come here, mutt.”
Yeosang obediently crawled forward, trembling at the tone. Mingi grabbed his hair as soon as he was close enough, yanking him forward and up and leaving him scrambling to keep his balance. Yeosang winced, but he knew better than to reach for the hand that held him. Mingi’s eyes were cold as he stared down at him.
“Whose cum is this?” he asked, tilting Yeosang’s head side to side to see the glisten on his chin.
“Hm?” Hongjoong’s chair squeaked once. “Oh, Jongho’s I think. Maybe a bit of Wooyoung’s.”
Mingi sneered at Yeosang, an ugly twist of his lips. “You’re fucking disgusting.”
He threw Yeosang’s head to the side, and his upper body followed, and he had to catch himself with his hands. Mingi clicked his tongue.
“Get up here and be useful.”
Mingi leaned against the door, arms crossed and the toe of a big black boot tapping the floor impatiently. Yeosang sat up on his heels, careful to keep his head bowed, and fumbled for Mingi’s zipper.
He heard the smack before he felt it, the loud crack of it echoing and startling his eyes wide open. His head snapped to the side and pain bloomed across his cheek, heat radiating in the shape of Mingi’s palm, making his breath tremble. He swallowed back the whimper that he wanted to make—Master was still watching.
“Mutts don’t use their hands, now do they?” Mingi growled. “Keep your filthy paws to yourself and try again.”
Yeosang nodded in his agreement. Of course, of course good dogs don’t use their hands. He would do anything to make up for his error, to prove that he knew what to do. His breath hitched when he leaned forward to mouth at the seam of Mingi’s dark wash jeans, tongue flicking out to find the zipper and latching his teeth onto it. Once Mingi’s fly was down, he nosed into it, lapping diligently at the fabric of his briefs and feeling his cock stiffen.
Once the fabric was well soaked, Mingi grabbed his hair again and pulled him back.
“Desperate,” he snarled, fishing his cock out of his underwear. Yeosang dropped his jaw in response. Mingi pushed in all at once, slowly rolling his hips into Yeosang’s warm mouth.
“I’d make you take it,” Mingi said, “but clearly you’re too messy for that. I’d rather keep my shoes clean.”
Yeosang was nodding again. Of course, he was messy. So messy.
Mingi waited until he was even messier, watching as saliva gurgled out of Yeosang’s slack mouth and dripped down his face, before pulling out and surveying his work. Yeosang stuck his tongue out helpfully, letting Mingi see. Mingi’s lip curled at the sight, and he shoved Yeosang to the ground with his foot.
Yeosang landed hard on his back. He kept his hands resolutely by his sides, unsure of what Mingi wanted him to do, until Mingi was reaching down and dragging him by his hair towards the couch. Yeosang scrambled to keep up with him, his scalp screaming with every second that his jellied limbs failed to cooperate. He got there, lip bitten in his teeth, but he made it to the couch.
Mingi scoffed and hauled him up, clicking his tongue impatiently when he threw Yeosang over the arm of the couch. Yeosang gasped at the impact. His head bounced on the cushions, his stomach crushed into the arm, smearing San’s old cum all over it, his ass now high in the air, perfectly accessible to Mingi’s rough fingers.
A crack sounded in the room when Mingi spanked him. Yeosang squirmed, burying his face in the cushions against the sting of it. If he was lucky, maybe Mingi hadn’t seen the way his hole clenched desperately around his plug.
“What, did the mutt like that?”
Or maybe not.
Mingi spanked him again, then again, and again without pause, each one delivered faster than the previous, each one harder, until Yeosang couldn’t hold back his whines. Even then, Mingi continued, past when Yeosang was sure his whole ass was a fiery red, when he pressed his open mouthed moans into the cushions, ruining them with his drool. Even when he was shaking, quivering, clawing at the upholstery, worried that Mingi would break the one rule and accidentally leave a handprint that would last a week.
One last swat and it was over. Mingi scoffed at the state he was in, whimpering and sensitive and perfectly pathetic—Yeosang whined when he said so.
“You liked it,” Mingi told him. “I could see your little hole twitching the whole time.”
Mingi removed his plug, leaving Yeosang’s hole to clench around nothing. He couldn’t help the contractions, and he whined again when something started to drip out.
“Fuck,” Mingi hissed. “Dirty, greedy mutt. Whose cum is this then?”
Yeosang’s body spasmed, desperately trying to keep it from leaking out.
“Well? You don’t even remember do you. Do I have to ask your Master?”
Cum leaked down Yeosang’s balls, the distressing trickle of it fully distracting him from whatever Mingi was saying. He gasped at another spank, snapping back to attention.
“Seonghwa-hyung? You had hyung’s cum inside you for that long?” Large fingers probed at his hole, stretching it wider and allowing more old cum to leak down his perineum. Then something much warmer and wetter dripped onto him—Yeosang shivered as he recognized the slickness of saliva. “Guess the slide should be easy then.”
Mingi pushed his cock inside in one smooth motion. The stretch had Yeosang gaping soundlessly—Mingi was much thicker than Seonghwa. Mingi gave him no time to adjust and immediately set a brutal pace, the slap of his hips stinging the still pulsing skin of Yeosang’s ass.
Yeosang couldn’t remember if Mingi preferred him to be quiet, not with the way his blood roared in his ears, but at this point he couldn’t have helped it if he tried. He moaned loudly as that huge cock split him open over and over again, thick and unforgiving, the pressure only matched by Mingi’s grip on his hips. His dick throbbed helplessly between his legs, pinned against the arm of the couch—again.
Mingi spanked him one more time and Yeosang’s vision went white.
Heat filled his abdomen. Yeosang writhed away from it, tried to crawl away, but he was pinned in place by strong hands. His breath shallowed as his vision cleared, little uncontrollable pants, and for a moment, for just a terrifying moment, he thought that maybe he’d actually— there’s no way he’d really—
“Hm,” Mingi sighed, pulling out. His release followed, splattering down the backs of Yeosang’s thighs. With it went Yeosang’s momentary panic—the heat and spasms had not been his own. Mingi flipped him over, and Yeosang saw with wide, teary eyes that his dick was still hard. He stared at it as it bobbed in the air, still dark and trapped in a ring.
“Hah, and here I’d expected you to cum all over yourself,” Mingi said, eyebrow raised. Hongjoong’s chair creaked, and Yeosang’s breath hitched. “Mutt just got a little too excited getting his sloppy hole bred?”
Yeosang gave a shuddery sob. He hadn’t cum. He hadn’t broken the rule, he was still good.
Mingi watched him for a while as he calmed down. His hard gaze gave nothing away, but after a while Yeosang realized what he was waiting for. He held up a shaky hand, one finger pointed.
“You’re filthy.” Mingi roughly replaced his plug with one hand. It didn’t do much—excess cum ran in cooling trails on the backs of Yeosang’s thighs.
Mingi left him there, zipping himself up casually and stalking away like nothing had happened.
“Thanks hyung,” Mingi called over his shoulder.
“For what, Song Mingi?” Yeosang didn’t have to look to know Hongjoong’s eyebrows were raised expectantly.
Mingi huffed. “Thank you so very much for letting me fuck your needy little mutt, Hongjoong-hyungnim.”
“Better.” Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “But your attitude better be fixed when I get home.”
Miingi grumbled some more, but he made sure to close the door securely behind him as he left.
“Fucking brat,” Hongjoong mumbled to himself, returning to his work. Yeosang crawled off of the couch and returned to his position, cum smearing in the crease of his knees. He listened as Hongjoong continued to gripe quietly, but he knew the mild annoyance wasn’t directed at him.
He returned to his position, basking in the dull stinging of his face and ass while he waited. His hips ached where Mingi had held him, the kind of ache that might get Mingi in trouble later, but right now it soothed him—this ache was far better than the painful aching of his dick.
The next knock was polite. Hongjoong hummed loudly, and Yunho stepped in, all soft sweater paws and even softer smile.
“Hi hyung,” he said, making his way over to Hongjoong and kissing him on the cheek. “How are you?”
“I’m alright,” Hongjoong said. “You’re looking fluffier than usual today, hm?”
Yunho giggled lightly. Yeosang could hear a few soft kisses exchanged.
“Hyung? Can I please touch your dog?”
“Of course. You’re the last one to visit today, so he’s all wound up for you.”
Yunho gave another kiss in thanks, and then Yunho’s broad body settled cross-legged right in front of Yeosang. He didn’t say anything, seemingly content to just sit there. It went on long enough for Yeosang to sneak a glance up at Yunho to see what he was doing.
Yunho was just…watching. Yunho liked to watch. He was wearing his wire rimmed glasses, sweater large enough to show a peek of his collarbone, and hair soft the way it was after he blow dried it. He really did look fluffy today, but there was something in his eyes that contrasted with the sweet smile he wore. Yeosang couldn’t help but fidget uncertainly.
Yunho cocked his head to the side.
“What’s the matter? You’re not getting embarrassed, are you?”
Yeosang clenched his jaw, ears heating up.
Yunho laughed, and the sound was not sweet. “You’ll sit here all day whining and begging like a little bitch for someone to touch you, but you get all squirmy now?”
Yeosang’s dick twitched visibly.
“I’m not even touching you and you’re a mess. I bet no one has properly touched you all day, isn’t that right?” When Yeosang dropped his eyes, his voice hardened. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Yeosang immediately complied, shivering at the steely look in his eyes.
“I asked you a question.”
Yeosang frantically shook his head, trapped under Yunho’s gaze.
“Aww, poor thing,” Yunho said, lips pouting. “Why don’t you show me how to properly satisfy you, hm?”
Yeosang’s lips parted dumbly.
“Did you hear me? I said touch yourself, bitch.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Yeosang curled a hand around his dick, hissing at the touch. He swallowed when Yunho raised his eyebrow and obediently gave it a tug. It was immediately a lot. Yunho was right—he really hadn’t been touched all day because that was the point. He was supposed to be of service, to exist for other people’s pleasure, and if he did a good job, his Master would decide if he got to cum or not.
He gave his dick another stroke. Yunho watched him dispassionately. If Yunho wanted him to touch himself, if watching him struggle and shudder was what brought Yunho pleasure, then Yeosang would do it. He was a good boy.
Yeosang wasn’t allowed to look away from Yunho’s face as he continued to stroke himself. He writhed under his own touch, the drag of his palm made smooth by the frankly ridiculous amount of precum that he was leaking. He avoided the head, so sensitive now that he was sure a stray touch would end in disaster, and tried to focus on the tight metal ring around his base. He had to be so, so careful—too fast and he would cum, too slow and he wouldn’t satisfy Yunho.
But apparently he wasn’t satisfying Yunho anyway, because after a minute or so of Yeosang’s careful strokes, Yunho scoffed, annoyed.
“You don’t expect me to believe that’s how you actually touch yourself,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to show you then.”
He leaned forward and shoved Yeosang’s hand away. Then he looked right into Yeosang’s eyes and slapped his dick.
Yeosang’s hips jumped, jaw falling open in a broken moan. It throbbed, pulses of pain and pleasure shocking through him, the haze only partially broken when Yunho leaned over and spat a large glob of saliva right onto it, a hot drip down his shaft.
“This is how you touch yourself,” Yunho said, grabbing his cock just shy of too tight. “Pay attention.”
He set a fast pace, and Yeosang hunched over at the assault, grabbing at Yunho’s flexing forearm in desperation. He sobbed openly when Yunho swiped his thumb over the slick head, squeezing his eyes shut against the pleasure, hips twitching helplessly into that large palm. Shit, shit, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, he was gonna—
The hand disappeared, and Yeosang fell forward, chest heaving. He braced himself on his forearms, numb, terrified to move a muscle in case the slightest breeze made him cum.
Yunho tutted above him. “See? That’s how you do it. Sit up, bitch. I’m speaking.”
Yeosang obeyed. He glanced at Yunho’s hands in apprehension, but Yunho didn’t reach for his cock again. Instead he’d returned to watching, observing as Yeosang struggled to put himself back together—a futile thing, really. Yeosang was sweaty, flushed, panting and covered in old cum in various stages of drying. No amount of sitting pretty would make him look less like a wreck.
“You’re a useful little bitch,” Yunho said conversationally. “I guess we’re lucky that your Master rents you out so freely. He likes his dogs messy.”
Yunho reached out with the hand that he’d used to jerk Yeosang and smeared the slick mess of spit and precum all over his face. Yeosang’s face burned.
“Let’s make sure you look nice and pretty for your Master.”
Yunho stood and fished his cock out of his jeans. It was already hard and leaking—watching really did do it for Yunho. He used that same hand to stroke himself, maintaining eye contact with Yeosang the entire time, the tip of his dick inches from Yeosang’s nose. His hand blurred, and after a minute or so white splattered across Yeosang’s face. He closed one eye against the hot drip, but otherwise sat nicely and took it.
Yunho finished with a sigh, smearing the tip across Yeosang’s forehead, down his nose bridge, across his cheekbones. Yeosang’s lower lip quivered at the tacky humiliation of it all.
“There we go,” Yunho said, satisfied and putting his cock away. “What a nice and pretty bitch.”
He walked away, leaving Yeosang with his cum cooling in globs on his face.
“Thanks hyung,” Yunho said sweetly, giving Hongjoong another kiss. “You won’t be too long, will you?”
“No,” Hongjoong promised. “I’m almost done here, we’ll be home soon.”
“Good, we’ll be waiting.”
The door clicked shut, and Yeosang was alone with his Master.
His Master, apparently, thought to make him wait some more. That was fine. Yeosang could be patient. Hongjoong returned to his production, playing the unfinished track aloud a few times before making a few adjustments. He continued for an undetermined amount of time—Yeosang couldn’t possibly keep track of something like that in his state, nor was it his place to. His Master decided what happened with his time.
The music stopped. Hongjoong sighed loudly, and the chair rolled back from the desk. A hand on his head, and then he was filling Yeosang’s vision, cool and collected and scrutinizing Yeosang’s trembling body. He bent at the waist to Yeosang’s eye level, and Yeosang stared back, wide eyed and trusting. Hongjoong reached out and cupped his chin, uncaring of the mess, an insistent thumb prying its way between pliant lips. Hongjoong hummed when Yeosang opened his mouth, peering inside. He inspected Yeosang’s tongue, pressing down on it lightly. Then he inspected his cheeks, his throat, the tightness of the collar.
Hongjoong clicked his tongue. “Present.”
Yeosang obeyed, moving so that his face pressed to the floor and his ass was high in the air. He spread his legs slightly so that Hongjoong could see the base of the silicone plug nestled between his cheeks. Hongjoong’s hands were on him a second later, stroking lightly up his sides and settling on his hips.
“Hm.” Hongjoong fitted his fingers just so and pressed down, exacerbating the dull ache there. “Mingi grabbed you here? Once for yes, two for no.”
Yeosang obediently tapped the floor in front of him once.
“Looks like Princess has earned himself a punishment,” Hongjoong mused. “Maybe later you can return the favor and give him some pretty bruises of your own.”
Yeosang nodded, not really knowing what he was agreeing to, just happy that his Master was finally touching him. The plug was removed, and Yeosang sighed when Hongjoong spread his loose hole with a finger. He poked and prodded, pressing on the puffy rim, thoroughly examining him. The plug was replaced when he was satisfied, and he moved on to Yeosang’s balls.
He gave them a flick. Yeosang stuttered out a sigh.
“Sit up.” Yeosang did so, and Hongjoong’s nose scrunched when Yeosang faced him again. “You really made a mess of yourself. What a naughty little dog I have, letting himself be used by anyone who wants a go. You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”
Yeosang swallowed, tracking Hongjoong with his eyes as his Master sat down on the couch.
“On my lap pup,” Hongjoong instructed. “I want my turn.”
Yeosang crawled over, mouth watering at the bulge in Hongjoong’s pants, and settled on his Master’s hips. He carefully took Hongjoong’s flushed cock out and tucked the waistband of his briefs under his balls. Hongjoong reached around his hips and removed Yeosang’s plug, unflinching when cum dripped onto his lap, and guided Yeosang into position.
“Show me you can be good.”
Yeosang sank down slowly. He tried his best to keep his eyes on Hongjoong’s, but his eyelids fluttered with his breath. His hole was sloppy enough that the stretch was barely noticeable and the glide easy, but now finally, finally on his Master’s cock, Yeosang was nearing the limit of his overwhelm, his dick a heavy weight between his legs and the look Hongjoong was giving him making him feel so, so small.
“You can do it pup, make me cum.”
So Yeosang tried his best. He steadied himself on Hongjoong’s shoulders and moved slowly, feeling his muscles ache and his prostate pulse with every pass. He took his time building a rhythm, alternating between bouncing and grinding his hips in little circles. Hongjoong’s hands settled on his waist, not helping, merely resting there to feel him work. Yeosang gained confidence when Hongjoong’s breath deepened, sighs prolonging and escaping through his mouth. He picked up speed, arching his back so that Hongjoong could reach deeper.
“That’s it,” Hongjoong hummed. “C’mon, look at me.”
Yeosang opened eyes that he hadn’t realized he closed. He met his Master’s gaze and was met with eyes so deep and adoring that he had to look away for a moment to gather his courage. Hongjoong was thrusting shallowly now, meeting Yeosang halfway. His hands wandered up and down Yeosang’s sides, occasionally grabbing at his ass and kneading the reddened flesh there. Yeosang whimpered when Hongjoong pressed down on the forbidden bruises Mingi had left, something that apparently delighted Hongjoong, so he did it again.
“Doing so good, my good boy,” Hongjoong murmured, the ending coming out breathy. Yeosang ground his hips down, stifling a sob at the stretch of it, at the screaming of his thighs, at the look in Hongjoong’s eyes.
“I’m close already pup,” Hongjoong groaned. “Had to listen to you get used all day, listen to everyone else play with you and pretend like I didn’t want to throw them all out and fuck you myself.”
Yeosang hiccupped, a few stray tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He bounced harder, determined to make his Master cum and force away his own nearing orgasm, but Hongjoong was so warm and his voice so soft and his grip so firm, and Yeosang was reaching the end of his rope.
Hongjoong tugged on his dick. Yeosang choked out a scream, clenching down hard and grinding frantically in Hongjoong’s lap.
“Fuck, good boy, so good, so good—” Hongjoong moaned. His hips stuttered and his grip on Yeosang’s sides tightened, and warmth filled Yeosang for the third time that day. Hongjoong shuddered through it, brow furrowed and lip caught between his teeth, but he kept his eyes on Yeosang.
He finished, and Yeosang started crying.
“Oh, baby, baby,” Hongjoong hushed, cradling Yeosang close. “Shh, you did so good, I’m so proud of you. Are you alright pup?”
Yeosang nodded into Hongjoong’s neck, tapping once for yes.
“Are you ready for your reward now?”
Yeosang garbled out an uh-huh sound, the vocalization showing his desperation.
“Okay pup, I’ll give it to you. You can cum however you like, precious, you’ve earned it.”
Yeosang clung to Hongjoong, trembling and too overwhelmed to make that kind of decision right now. He wanted Hongjoong close, didn’t want to let go for even a second, but oh he just needed to cum.
“Do you want to lie down and have Master touch you?”
Yes! Yeosang wanted to scream, and he must have gotten that across somehow because Hongjoong’s small hand reached between them and unclasped Yeosang’s cock ring. Yeosang couldn’t help but hump the air once he was free, burying deeper into Hongjoong’s neck. Hongjoong gently laid him down on the couch, careful to keep his softening dick still inside, and hovered over Yeosang’s shaking body.
“Shh, I’ve got you. Cum whenever you like.”
Hongjoong held him close, pressing sweet kisses to his temples, his cheeks, his birthmark. Then his hand was on his dick, jerking him intently, and Yeosang’s sobs increased, finally getting the stimulation and permission he had been craving for hours now. Hongjoong moved down to his neck, licking and sucking above the collar and leaving proper marks for everyone to see. He thrashed at the sensitivity, legs kicking out and hands raking down Hongjoong’s back. He could feel it coming, so fast, and he panted in a panic. Fuck, it was so much, too big, he couldn’t—
His orgasm ripped through him, tearing a stuttered scream from his gaping mouth. His vision spotted and fuzzed, his ears rang, his head whipped back and forth. He gasped and moaned, tears streaking through the mess on his face. It seemed to last for hours, wave after wave of hot cum spilling onto his abdomen, more pulsing out around Hongjoong’s hand with every swipe of his thumb across his oversensitive head.
Hongjoong kept stroking him until Yeosang was desperately pushing his hand away, pleading out little ah, ah, ah’s of sensitivity. Hongjoong let go, petting his body softly to help him come down.
“Good boy, such a good boy,” Hongjoong murmured into his skin. “So perfect, so good for me.”
Yeosang collapsed into the couch, boneless and shivering, chest heaving. He let Hongjoong’s words wash over him, closing his eyes and sinking into the feeling of lips on his skin—floating, happy, absolutely adored.They lay there for a time while Yeosang came back to himself.
“How do you feel?” Hongjoong asked when Yeosang’s breath had evened out.
Yeosang sighed, a little hazy and tingly all over.
“Good,” he rasped, voice rough from disuse and abuse. “Really, really good.”
Hongjoong smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that baby. Did you have fun?”
Yeosang nodded.
“Good. I did too, you were amazing.”
Yeosang squirmed. “Thank you, hyung.”
“What do you say we get you home and cleaned up?”
Yeosang closed his eyes. He was filthy, sweaty and sticky with more fluids than he really wanted to think about right now. He knew that the rest of their partners were waiting for them at home with a luxurious bath, a warm meal, fuzzy blankets, and endless cuddles. He wanted all of that, he really did, but right now he was tired and clingy and he wanted Hongjoong to himself for just a little longer.
“Can we wait just a little bit hyung?” he asked timidly. “You…feel nice.”
Hongjoong smiled softly. “Of course. Do you want to keep warming me and take a little nap?”
“Mhmm.” In truth, his eyes were already closing.
A fond laugh. “Go ahead. Hyung will wake you up in a little bit.”
Yeosang nodded politely, sighing into Hongjoong’s warm, sticky embrace.
“...Love you hyung,” he mumbled. Such an inadequate phrase to describe the utter contentment and safety he felt by being held like this, taken care of like this. But it was the best he had, and Hongjoong needed to know.
A kiss on his forehead. “I love you too. Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Yeosang knew he would.