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Once is an accident.
Twice is a coincidence.
And anything after that, well, Yeosang might just have to admit it's his guilty pleasure.
Not that it's anything to be ashamed of—especially because everyone has something they consider a guilty pleasure—but this one is certainly a bit… harder to explain than a typical one.
In a world where someone would consider listening to an unpopular music genre as a guilty pleasure, or even indulging in foods that aren't necessarily that healthy for you, Yeosang wishes this were the case for him.
Honestly, he can't even pinpoint when the first instance really occurred, nor when he noticed himself becoming more enthralled each time it happened. It's just something he one day realized that oh, this is bringing him more joy than he ever expected.
After that day, he realized this is something he absolutely has to take to the grave and let not a single soul find out about.
If only it were that easy.
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It happens mainly when they're filming content, Yeosang has noticed.
Perhaps because there's always the unmentioned need to supply moments of fan-service for the fans to enjoy—something Yeosang never understood until pretty recently.
This is unfortunate though, because if the members are purposely clinging on to each other for the sake of the camera's to catch—and for the fans to notice—then surely Yeosang's lingering eyes on the moments are to be captured as well. He's no fool to this realization, hence why he tries to steer clear of the cameras whenever a happening unfolds before him.
But sometimes he can't help the way it entrances him and captures his focus entirely. There's something in the way his heart will flutter or skip a measly beat over the sight of the members being all over one another. Watching them as they simply hold hands, or even go as far as kissing each other on the cheeks.
The biggest supplier of these butterflies Yeosang suffers through is Wooyoung, because of course. He's never been shy from showing affection, even towards Yeosang. Especially towards Yeosang. It's gotten better over the years—Wooyoung calming down towards him, not Yeosang growing more accustomed to it. He doesn't think his body will ever relax from it nowadays. What's helped is him seeking it out with the others instead.
It's a win-win to Yeosang. He doesn't have to deal with the feeling of ants crawling on his skin whenever Wooyoung clings onto him, and he gets to watch the man be affectionate with someone else from either afar or right in front of him.
What he finds ironic though, is that in most scenarios—especially when they're filming—Wooyoung won't cling to San, his actual boyfriend. He'll find any other member to get his hands or lips on for the moment and make a whole show of it. A part of Yeosang wondered how San puts up with it, seeing his boyfriend like that with someone else.
Until the possibility clicked in his mind that maybe it's something San is into.
And that thought in itself is nearly as daunting as when Yeosang made the realization about his own guilty pleasure.
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It all becomes more obvious after that.
Kind of like when someone you know gets a new car, and all you see is that same car. Something about frequency illusion. It's all Yeosang can notice from now on.
Whenever Wooyoung in particular hangs off of another member, Yeosang's eyes would always redirect themselves to the pair, but now, he finds his eyes drifting over to San afterwards even. Studying the man's reaction to the situation.
And what he finds doesn't help confirming his suspicion, actually. If anything, half of the time, San is looking elsewhere—mainly at whoever is talking. Is it disappointing? Maybe. But only in the sense that Yeosang thought he was on to something about discovering his friends' guilty pleasure. Not because he wanted to see if San got jealous or anything.
Definitely not.
On the other hand, when San is looking at Wooyoung hanging off of Yunho, Mingi, Hongjoong, or even Seonghwa, Yeosang doesn't find a glint of jealousy hidden even beneath the surface of his gaze. He watches the pair with almost a sense of fondness in his eyes, instead. Sometimes, if Yeosang is lucky, he'll catch San flash the slightest tilt of a smile over the sight.
So maybe he isn't too far off?
Even then, this might be a bit more strange than his own habit of watching the members be affectionate with one another. This is San enjoying his boyfriend being clingy in similar ways with men he has no intention of getting with.
He's not one to judge, ever, but still, Yeosang think he's allowed to find it a bit strange…
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It's almost like his body has developed a sixth sense in when Wooyoung in particular starts gravitating towards another member. Like he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise when Wooyoung's steps into someone else's orbit, and his eyes snap like magnets the second Wooyoung's arms wind themselves around the member of choice.
More often not, it's either Mingi or Yunho, Yeosang has also began to notice. Interesting. There's surely something else there to discover, but that's besides the point.
They're on set for filming, yet they've only just gotten changed into their styled outfits for the recording, meaning everyone is still in their regularized mindset. There's no cameras filming even though they're more than prepared to start once the staff deem everything perfect down to the props behind them and the individual hairs dangling from their heads.
For now, everyone is goofing off while Yeosang minds his business on one of the couches off to the side of the main set. From where he sits, he has a wide view of the studio they're in. All of the staff members running around perfecting any last minute details, some of the members getting their hair, makeup, or even outfits tweaked by the stylists. He sees it all.
Especially Wooyoung standing idly off to the side not too far from where he's sitting himself.
Yeosang can tell in the exact moment when Wooyoung sets his sights on Yunho finally being freed from the working hands of a stylist. He's barely alone for a second before Wooyoung takes his first stride in Yunho's direction, acting as nonchalant as possible with his movements. Yeosang can notice that Yunho isn't paying attention to anything in particular, wandering mindlessly away from the area he was contained to, until Wooyoung sides up beside him with a hand reaching out to caress his bottom.
Most people say hi, or even wave, when it comes to greeting someone, but Wooyoung grabs at their rears, instead. A horrible habit of his, Yeosang has learned, and fell victim to many times at this point in their friendship.
He watches idly as Yunho startles where he stands, whipping around to find Wooyoung within his personal space. The initial bout of shock wipes off his face the second Wooyoung flashes a smile towards him—his hand never leaving Yunho's butt the entire time. All the meanwhile, Yeosang feels his heart stutter over the sight, unable to pry his gaze away from the two. Eyes dancing from their expressions, to their hands, to the way their bodies naturally lean in towards one another.
They're talking about something, mouths moving, but too many outsider sounds for Yeosang to be able to properly pick up on their conversation. A giggle here, a playful swat at Yunho's shoulder there, and a whole lot of staring from Yeosang.
Whenever this occurs, Yeosang really does find it hard to look away. His heart hammering in his chest behind his ribcage, and pupils dilated wider than they might ever have been in his life. It's a miracle no one has ever called him out on it, because he's sure that it's far more than obvious he watches the members like this.
As much as the hairs raise on his neck whenever they begin to orbit one another, Yeosang feels it manifest by tenfold even after the fact right now.
Something compels him to break his glance away, and the magnet latches onto San who's standing on the opposite side where Wooyoung and Yunho are.
Except, the hairs on the back of his neck transcribe into a ghostly chill that sweeps across his skin instead, because San is staring directly back at him.
Not at Wooyoung, but at Yeosang.
He forces himself to look away as quickly as he looked over at the man, but the damage is already done. Their eyes locked, for sure, and San knows Yeosang was watching his boyfriend. There isn't a force strong enough in the world to redirect his sight back to any of the three men, so instead, his body starts moving before his mind tells him what to do, and Yeosang is running off to the bathroom. A new shade of red creeping up from his neck onto his ears, and surely across his cheeks.
What he doesn't notice is that San's eyes follow him the entire way he scurries off to the bathroom, and how San heads over to where Wooyoung and Yunho are standing—a grin adorning the entire lower half of his face after the fact.
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San never says anything, and neither does Wooyoung.
So Yeosang is safe to assume that he's in the clear, and maybe San didn't actually notice him staring. That maybe he only looked over at Yeosang at the exact time Yeosang looked over at San.
It's what he tells himself to fight the anxiety budding in the pit of his stomach over the instance.
But, peace only lasts so long.
Nearly the same situation unfolds, but instead of Wooyoung fawning over someone else, it's San that fawns over Seonghwa.
Yeosang knows they're close, and even more-so after becoming dorm-mates a few years ago, but there's something about it that seems… more than friendly in Yeosang's eyes. Though, he knows San would never cheat on Wooyoung like that. Even then, the way Yeosang watches San feel up Seonghwa's muscles through the skin-tight shirt he has on, it brings about a fresh wave of butterflies in Yeosang's belly.
He's much closer this time around to where they stand in front of him, so Yeosang can hear the flow of compliments water-falling from San's mouth over their hyung's new muscle growth. Likewise, Yeosang can see the blush creeping through Seonghwa's full-face of makeup, even peeking out from where the foundation doesn't fully cover his neck. No matter how badly he wants to turn away, feeling like he's intruding on their one-on-one conversation that's not meant for his ears, Yeosang can't.
Instead, he keeps his focus locked directly on them as the fluttering from his stomach travels up his chest when San moves his grasp from Seonghwa's biceps to across him abdomen. Fingertips tracing gently over the thin piece of fabric to get any sort of feel for the definition that lies beneath the surface. Yeosang can't help but watch how Seonghwa's eyes trail down San all the way to where his hand is connected to his body. His own eyes following the same trail, but snapping back up when Seonghwa gulps as he continues to stare down.
Normally, Yeosang doesn't get too worked up over any of these instances, because they're never more than a playful grab, or a cheeky kiss, but this…
This seems way more than any of that.
Yeosang can notice the way Seonghwa's chest is heaving just a bit more than usual when San brings his other hand up and now both of his hands cage around the smallest part of Seonghwa's waist.
It seems so much more than two friends being affectionate. It's bordering on something more primal, Yeosang thinks as he gulps at the sight unfolding in front of him. There's a heat forming between the surface of his skin and the clothes that cover him from head to toe, and it's beginning to feel unbearable as he watches San's gaze trail back up Seonghwa's body and over his face instead. They're staring directly at one another, and suddenly, Yeosang is burning.
This is far more than he ever expected to witness between the members.
Only when his focus weakens and he finally tears his gaze away does he meet Wooyoung's in the process. He's not standing behind San and Seonghwa, like how San was standing behind him and Yunho, but instead, he's nearly parallel with where Yeosang is sitting. Just out of the corner of his eye.
There's no denying that Wooyoung had been staring at Yeosang the same way San had been staring at him just last week, but this time, there isn't a smile on his face. Instead, it's an expression far too unreadable, and Yeosang is convinced his skeleton might eject itself from his body.
Fight or flight kicks in, and Yeosang chooses flight. Again.
It's within a matter of seconds that his body uprights itself from the couch he's seated on, and scurries towards the bathroom down the hall. His heart a stammering mess from watching whatever that was between San and Seonghwa, and then from Wooyoung catching him in the act.
What he doesn't expect, once he's in the safety of the bathroom, hands glued to the countertop as he leans all his weight in an effort to calm his rampant heart rate, is for someone else to come in.
And for that person to be Wooyoung of all people.
There's barely a moment for him to collect his thoughts before the door pushes open rather timidly and Wooyoung steps in as if he didn't catch his best friend ogling his boyfriend and their other group member a few minutes prior.
Yeosang has an apology on the tip of his tongue, ready to defend his honor, but Wooyoung doesn't give him a chance before he's gently pushing Yeosang onto the other side of the wall perpendicular to the sinks. Even with all of the strength he has, Yeosang lets it happen. Allowing himself to be gently caged in by Wooyoung.
"Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung starts, his tone softer than a stick of butter that's been sitting out all day. "Did you like what you saw?"
Rather instantaneously, as soon as the words register, Yeosang begins to sputter. His tongue and lips moving in opposite directions, not even bothering to coordinate with the thoughts racing around in his mind.
"I—It's not like that, Wooyoung-ah," he finally musters out, voice trembling as his eyes widen in horror over the confrontation.
He shouldn't have been so naive to think he'd never get caught—but now that it's happening, he's realizing how much of a fool he's been to believe he never would.
What's worse, is that he can't tell if Wooyoung is angry or not. Because he should be, since it looked like he was ogling at his boyfriend, even when that's furthest from what Yeosang intended. If anything, he was looking at San and Seonghwa and their interaction together, but he would sound bat-shit crazy if he admitted that. Even if Wooyoung is his best friend of over a decade, there's no way he'd let him live this down.
"Really?" Wooyoung tilts his head and pouts. "Because to me, it looked like you couldn't keep your eyes off of Sannie and Seonghwa-hyung."
Yeosang gulps as he swallows past the lump in his throat. Fuck, this really is his worst nightmare come to life. He presses himself further back against the cool tiling even though Wooyoung isn't coming any closer. His own body desires a greater distance between them—the flight effect still very much present.
"I've never seen you so scared, Yeosang-ah. I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking," Wooyoung says with the pout still taut on his lips.
"You're—You're not?" Relief should be washing over Yeosang in tenfold right now, but his nerves are still on full alert and he won't be able to come down from this rush for a few hours at least. Even when they're supposed to be filming soon, he knows his hands will still shake.
"No, of course not." Wooyoung's pout turns into a smile, and suddenly, Yeosang doesn't know where this is going once again. "I know you're not the kind of person to go after someone that's in a relationship, so there's nothing to be upset about, right?"
Yeosang nods subtly, but still enough for Wooyoung to notice and nod himself.
There's a pause, and Yeosang holds his breath while he waits, because he knows there's more to what Wooyoung has to say.
"I just—I don't know—didn't know you had a thing for Seonghwa-hyung, then."
And then, every drop of blood runs cold in Yeosang's veins.
"No—no! I don't—it's not like that, Wooyoung-ah. It's not—" Yeosang sputters out, his lips move at the speed of light, pushing out all the words he knows to try and deny the accusation Wooyoung is pushing, but it's hardly coherent.
"You don't like Seonghwa-hyung?" Wooyoung sounds genuinely confused, and whatever attitude he walked in here with is diluted just for a moment. "But then—"
"No—I don't like him, but please, just—just drop it, Wooyoung-ah."
He knows he's flushing red at this point, there's no way to deny it. If he turned his head slightly to the left, he'd be able to see his reflection perfectly clear, but it's far from necessary. Not when Yeosang can feel the heat permeating from his pores and even as it's trapping itself from beneath his clothes once more.
It would be less humiliating if he actually did have a crush on either San or Seonghwa at this point.
There's panic settling quickly in his veins as Yeosang watches Wooyoung's brows furrow in confusion, desperately trying to piece the puzzles together when he doesn't even have a picture to go off of. The gears grinding endlessly without any lubricant to ease their rotations.
Until…
"Oh my God…!" Wooyoung gasps and a hand flies dramatically to cover his mouth. His eyes are widened and Yeosang has no idea how to decipher any of this, but his anxiety knows it can't be too far off from what he's always feared.
"Wooyoung-ah… Please… Just—"
"You know, I've seen the jokes online, but I never really thought anything of it," he cuts Yeosang off, the hand covering his mouth to settle on his cheek in disbelief, "and even when Sannie told me last week… I didn't believe him. That he was just making shit up, but… Oh my God…"
He's seen jokes online? What does that even mean?
And San told him what?
What the fuck is he talking about?
These are all questions plaguing Yeosang's mind, but he can't find himself to voice out any of them. Every muscle in his body nearly paralyzed as Wooyoung comes to this conclusion.
If he could, Yeosang would pause time so those next words never come from Wooyoung's mouth, but it wouldn't make a difference since he'd hear them anyway. He could pause time for a century, but still, Wooyoung has put two and two together, and there's no way to hide from it.
So, he embraces for impact as reality finally catches up to him and slams into him at full force.
"Do you really have a thing for watching us being touchy with one another?" Wooyoung asks when genuine curiosity dripping from his tone. It doesn't come out as judging, or accusatory, but still Yeosang can't deny the way it feels as though the words cause him actual physical harm.
"I—" Yeosang starts to answer, but he cuts himself short. He worries on the inside of his lip while Wooyoung "It's really not like that…"
It is, but he can't bring himself to admit it. Even if him and Wooyoung have been friends for over a decade, there's just some things that need to be left unsaid. And this is one of them.
"Yeosang-ah, I'm not judging you, I swear. We all have our… things… and if that's yours, then, well—there's nothing wrong with it. Not at all." Wooyoung leans forward slightly, and Yeosang freezes when he comes barely a few centimeters away from his face. Their breaths intertwining, mingling with each others.
From the corner of his eye, Yeosang sees Wooyoung's hand come into his view, and he's certain it's going to land somewhere on his face, but it never reaches that far when the door to the bathroom swings open not even a second later.
"Hey, we're about to start—oh…"
Yeosang hears San's voice before he can see his face, thanks to Wooyoung standing directly in front of him.
"We'll be right out, Sannie." Yeosang watches as Wooyoung whips his head around and responds. He must mouth something because Yeosang doesn't hear anything, but he can see the way the muscles on his face contort anyway.
All of this is so…
It's beyond flustering and embarrassing. But now, with San entering the bathroom and seeing his friend and boyfriend in such a compromising position… God, Yeosang isn't too religious, but he wishes whatever greater being is out there would just take him out.
Put him out of his misery, or at least give him a break.
San leaves not a minute later, and Wooyoung turns back around. Whatever plans he had with his hand has been entirely abandoned, and a gentle smile spreads over his lips instead. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."
And Yeosang doesn't have a chance to respond, because Wooyoung makes his leave right after that. Leaving Yeosang up against this tiled bathroom wall, wondering what the hell just happened, and how the fuck he can come back from that.
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Unfortunately there is no coming back from what happened between him and Wooyoung in that bathroom, but that wasn't even the worst of it, Yeosang is realizing now.
In fact, he wishes he could go back to that day, because everything else that has been happening since is nearly torture for him. What once used to be enjoyable, and borderline pleasuring to sit back and watch, has quickly become a sense of dread upon Wooyoung discovering his dirtiest secret.
While Wooyoung hasn't said a peep about any of it, Yeosang knows he's been making it more apparent to put on even more of a show than usual, and fuck, Yeosang hates it but loves it all at the same time.
At first, nothing happened for a few days after the fact, but that didn't stop Yeosang from feeling on edge every time they were all gathered together, or at least him, Wooyoung, and a few others. It didn't matter if there were cameras or not, Yeosang's heart rate would still spike whenever Wooyoung strayed away from his previous standings. Only for him to wisp dangerously close by another member without ever coming in contact with them, seeming as if he's purposely teasing Yeosang.
It carried on like this for a week or two, and every little bit of it, Wooyoung's antics increased slowly but surely.
Where he tested the waters, seeing if Yeosang's eyes would follow him even if Wooyoung was only getting up to leave the room, he found it more than enough to carry on with whatever his intentions hold. Other times, Wooyoung would get up and linger near another member and simply exist in his space, but still, like clock-work, Yeosang's eyes followed. It was out of instinct at that point, and Yeosang hated that he couldn't fight it.
And he hated Wooyoung's mischievous grin every time he realized his little plan—whatever it might be—succeeded.
Eventually, Wooyoung resumed his usual clinginess to the other members, and it was only then did the butterflies in Yeosang's belly reappear with the already present fluttering in his chest. Watching with a hitched breath as Wooyoung rubbed his hands all over the member of his choosing—which happened to be Mingi in this specific instance—and leaning into his backside from behind. Not much else happened other than that, but it was enough to restore the balance in Yeosang's normal behavior. Almost causing him to forget about that fated day in the bathroom.
It becomes too much, though, when it begins happening more and more frequently. To the point that Yeosang knows Wooyoung is doing all of it on purpose.
Only when Wooyoung does it with San, does Yeosang reach his breaking point over all of this.
They're not even recording anything today. It's simply a normal day at practice, no cameras, nothing. There isn't a need for any of them to be all over one another, and usually, San and Wooyoung don't let the rest of them see their public displays of affection. Only in the very beginning of their relationship were they more constantly all over one another, but as the years passed by them, it decreased significantly.
So, for Yeosang to catch sight of them out of the corner of his eye, where they're in the secluded part of the practice room, he can't tell if this is on purpose or not.
Everyone else has their focus on their reflections in the mirror at the front of the room, dry rehearsing the moves they had been learning throughout the day, but from where Yeosang is sitting on the side of the room, all his ears can catch focus of are the hushed whispers of San and Wooyoung in the back. He glances over when Wooyoung's poor attempt of a muffled chuckle hits his eardrums and instantly, a chill forms from the inside of his body.
All he can see is San towering over where he has Wooyoung gently pinned to the wall, behind the part that extends enough so the rest of the members can't see them—but on the side where Yeosang definitely can. Wooyoung lets it happen to him, and Yeosang has seen this sight so many times. It might honestly be where this all stemmed from—seeing San and Wooyoung all over each other, and it eventually spreading to happen with the other members as well. All it takes is one slippery slope, and apparently that must have been it.
They stand there, and for the most part, it's innocent. Yeosang is sure whatever they're muttering to each other is far from that, but San's hand on Wooyoung's cheek simply lays there. His thumb gently stroking over the surface as Wooyoung melts into it.
It isn't until Yeosang sees Wooyoung's hands peer from wherever he had them tucked, and watches as they settle on San's waist, fingertips kneading into the muscle that lays beneath his tank top. Yeosang feels his heart rate pick up the moment he notices San press even closer into Wooyoung, and he knows he needs to look away, but he can't. Not when Wooyoung's hands drop and cup the swell of San's ass perfectly, and Yeosang's breath stutters in his chest. Wooyoung pulls San in even closer. Their bodies are as close as they physically can be, and Yeosang can hardly see Wooyoung's face anymore where it's now nearly fully hidden by San's head.
No matter how badly Yeosang wishes to tear his eyes away, he can't, and fuck, he's sure the others in front of him are bound to notice where his attention lays at any moment. But still, his eyes remain glued to Wooyoung's persistent hands that are kneading into San's ass like his life depends on it. Yeosang himself can feel a heat radiating from his skin, and there's no way he can blame it on practice—not when he's been sitting for the past ten minutes. He gulps the second San ducks his head into the space between Wooyoung's head and shoulder, nuzzling perfectly into his neck. Wooyoung stands there, his head leaning as far back against the wall as it can, with his eyes shut blissfully as San presumably leaves his mark against Wooyoung's skin.
Something dark forms in his gut when a soft moan hits his ears, and Yeosang knows it's from Wooyoung based on the way his mouth has gone slack in the slightest. The fluttering in his belly hardening into something not so foreign—but entirely foreign in this instance. He feels a rush of embarrassment flood his veins as the feeling grows more prominent, but still, Yeosang can't look away. Growing more and more breathless the longer he watches.
The second another moan slips from between Wooyoung's lips, San snaps upwards, and one of his hands comes up to cup the underside of Wooyoung's jaw. His thumb and forefinger pinching between Wooyoung's cheeks to deter him from making such a noise again. And fuck, Yeosang inhales sharply at the sight of his best friend being handled in such a way. The day San and Wooyoung told the team about their relationship, Yeosang tried to keep the images of their more personal moments out of his mind, but now that they're unfolding before him, Yeosang can't help the trip his mind unexpectedly wanders down.
How San might pin Wooyoung down against the mattress, only one of his hands trapping both of Wooyoung's hands above his head. And Wooyoung allowing it for whatever reason—one Yeosang doesn't quite have access to in this moment. Only for San to take advantage of how vulnerable Wooyoung is in that moment, but still not cross any boundaries because that's the love of his life at the end of the day.
It brings a new heat to Yeosang's body, and he recognizes it instantly. In tandem to Wooyoung, he leans his own head against the wall behind him, and brings his legs up to hide whatever evidence might become visible to any of the other members. All of it is unbearable, especially when San finally loosens his grip on Wooyoung's face and brings their lips together in a seemingly sweet and innocent kiss. No way is it the first time Yeosang has seen them kiss, but it's been quite some time—mainly because he knows what it does to him. And he really needs to pry his eyes away before the problem in his pants grows tenfold, but the second he can see San's tongue swipe over Wooyoung's bottom lip, Yeosang's eyes remain glued.
Oh, he's fucked.
The fact that none of the other members have caught on to their absence, and Yeosang's attention being visibly elsewhere is furthest from his mind in this moment.
He sits there with his chest nearly heaving as San and Wooyoung kiss each other with a passion Yeosang is glad they're still able to have despite everything they've gone through as a couple in this kind of industry, but fuck, the damage it's doing to him at the same time is irreparable. Despite all of it, Yeosang tries his darnedest to keep any amount of pressure away from his groin, even if it means biting the hell out of his lower lip to provide as a distraction.
Their kiss comes to a natural end hardly a minute later when it's noticeable they're out of breath, and Yeosang feels relief. If only for the briefest of moments. Because of course—of-fucking-course—San is the one who pushes away from Wooyoung and turns around to find Yeosang's lust-lorn, half-lidded gaze upon the two of them. Entranced by everything that had conspired over the past handful of minutes.
Everything within Yeosang freezes the second their eyes lock, and his head flies off of the wall as his posture straightens. He's burning from the inside out as San's gaze bores into him, but in a manner that's entirely unreadable due to the sheer panic Yeosang's body is experiencing over being caught red-handed. Whatever heat had been rising while watching the two of them is only exaggerated as the humiliation of it all begins settling rapidly in his veins, but unable to do anything about it. Yeosang's vision practically tunnels in on the two of them, everything else around him blurring as their gazes combined pin him to the wall behind him. Especially with the way he catches Wooyoung's knowing grin from behind San's, as if saying caught you.
There's the briefest of moments where Yeosang's muscles unfreeze, and he takes the opportunity the second he finds it to uproot himself from the floor and bolt out of that God-forsaken practice room. Stumbling over his feet as he chases towards the door, flying out of it while the other members who had been gathered around shooting-the-shit in the meantime watch in pure confusion. Unaware to the sudden change in Yeosang's otherwise calm demeanor.
His feet carry him to the bathroom down the hall and he pushes the door open with a slam, not even startling over the way it crashes into the tiled wall behind it. Rushing over to the sinks to calm the heart threatening to flee his chest from how rapidly it beats, leaning against them as he works to catch his breath in a similar manner. With shaky hands, Yeosang flings the handle on the faucet up, and allows the water to flow at full force into his palms before bringing it up to his face. Hoping the cold water will flush whatever kind of panic this is out from his veins and wash the sweat beading down his face.
None of it works, and still, Yeosang feels the panic settle in his bones at the same time the door pushes open again, but doesn't slam this time. Immediately, his attention swings to where he sees San and Wooyoung filing into the bathroom, and all that fills his veins is immense amounts of shame and humiliation.
"Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung calls out, rushing over to a visibly distressed Yeosang, showing signs of his own worry across his features.
Similar to the last time this happened, Yeosang backs himself away from Wooyoung, shivering within his own being.
"I'm—I'm so sorry, I-I…" Yeosang feels the words tumble from his mouth, but he has no control over them. Too physically numbed to even realize that's backed fully against a wall at the same time. "I didn't—I didn't mean to… I-I just—I can't… I can't help it."
Wooyoung approaches him slowly, and Yeosang watches as his vision slowly becomes more and more blurred by the second. Blinking, and feeling new droplets drip down his face, mixing with the water that he had splashed on his face a little bit ago.
"Yeosang-ah… Why—why are you apologizing?" Wooyoung sounds worried behind the question, and it only confuses Yeosang.
"Because, I—I…" Yeosang's lip is trembling, and he can't even finish his sentence before a cry rips out from his chest unexpectedly.
He's never one to cry, unless something eats at him too terribly for far too long, but even then, the threat of tears linger for quite some time before he finally allows them to fall. This might be one of the only times where his body has allowed him to shed the emotions the moment they appeared, and it's far too much for him to handle. It's nearly instantaneous the way his knees buckle and give out completely, sending him straight to the floor. But, it's San that comes from behind Wooyoung and notices it before he crumbles entirely.
Where he now stands in San's strong grasp, Yeosang only wants to cave in on himself even more.
"I—I… I shouldn't have—" he tries again, but the words are choking him at the same time the tears are flowing relentlessly.
"Breathe, 'Sangie," Wooyoung says, sounding out of breath himself. How ironic.
But he does. Yeosang shuts down the attempts at forcing the words out and focuses on the breaths stuttering from his lungs inconsistently.
In, and out. In, and out.
It helps a little bit, but even then, Yeosang still trembles within San's hold to the point that he can tell the man is growing exhausted from holding him up. Somehow, Wooyoung notices, and urges the two of them to sit on the floor. In his stupor, Yeosang can't even bother to stop and think just how clean this floor might be, so he mindlessly allows his body to cave with San's movements. Finding himself leaning back against the other that still keeps him in his hold.
He takes a big deep breath before finally finding enough composure to get a whole sentence out. "I didn't—fuck—I didn't mean to… Watch you two… I'm—I'm so sorry…"
"Oh, 'Sang-ah, you don't—there's nothing to apologize for…" Wooyoung pouts as his eyes meet with Yeosang's, and Yeosang can feel the sincerity dripping from his words. But still, he doesn't understand.
They should be mad, but instead San is keeping him pressed against him, and Wooyoung is impeding on his personal space in the gentlest way possible.
"But—I…"
"You didn't do anything wrong, Yeosang-ah," San blurts out, cutting Yeosang off. "It was me… I should be apologizing, not you."
Confusion racks through his brain, trying to get ahold of even the slightest grasp on what's happening, but none of it is making any sense. Why does San need to apologize—he didn't do anything wrong. It was all Yeosang. Wasn't it?
"Yeosang-ah, we—how do I say this… We wanted you to watch us," San confesses not a breath later. And Yeosang feels it hit his ears as if a gun fired directly next to his head. "We shouldn't have done it, and 'Young-ah even tried to tell me it wasn't a good idea, but I just—I don't know… I'm sorry, Yeosang."
With San behind him, Yeosang can only see Wooyoung's features from the confession, and the guilt wrinkling in his skin adds a layer of validity to San's words. But that still doesn't clear anything up.
"You… You wanted me to watch you two?" Yeosang asks, cautiously. His lungs are weighing heavily in his chest as he still makes the effort to calm down.
In front of him, Wooyoung nods, and he can hear a hum in agreeance from San.
"But I don't—I'm not following any of this…" Yeosang admits, still feeling the way his mind is beyond foggy, and nothing the other two explain helps clear it.
Wooyoung sighs, and finally, he reaches out and grabs ahold of Yeosang's hand. "There's a lot to explain, and maybe this isn't the best place. I'll tell Hongjoong-hyung and the others that you're sick and we're taking you home. We can talk about it there, if you want, okay?"
It's not really a suggestion, but with the way Wooyoung phrases it, Yeosang doesn't see it as his only option, even if that's exactly what it is. Still, he agrees with the plan and waits with San in the bathroom while Wooyoung heads back to gather all of their belongings.
He normally never leaves practice early, but the trembling in his muscles is far too persistent, and even when Wooyoung comes back, it takes the both of them on either side of him to ensure he can make it back to the company car waiting for them in the parking garage. On the ride back, Wooyoung says they hope he feels better, and Seonghwa even offered to cook a meal for him if he wants.
Back at his dorm, San immediately ventures off into the bathroom and Yeosang hears the rushing of the tub faucet, meanwhile Wooyoung ushers Yeosang into his bedroom in the meantime. Not much is said in the time that Wooyoung gathers a fresh pair of clothes and by the time San comes into his room and guides Yeosang towards the bathroom.
The bath does him more wonders than he expected, and he allows his body to soak until the water runs cold and his fingertips are beyond pruney. It relaxes his muscles, and the trembling subsides significantly, but even afterwards, there's a bit of anxiety that remains in his system. Worrying his nerves just enough to have a light tingling remain.
There's no point in avoiding it, so Yeosang dries and dresses himself hastily. The quicker this happens, the quicker the two of them can leave and he can wallow in his misery until Yunho comes back home with a parade of questions about what even happened.
"Oh, you're done already?" Wooyoung chimes when Yeosang pops back out into the living room. "Do you feel any better?"
"Mm, a lot better. Thank you." Yeosang bows his head in appreciation before taking cautious steps over to the chaise end of his couch. Far away from where San and Wooyoung sit on the main part.
There's apprehension in the air, and it weighs on all of them far too heavily.
"Yeosang-ah, we're really sorry about all of this," Wooyoung says, his brows already worrying together. "We didn't think it would turn out like this, but still, we shouldn't have done it without telling you first. I hope you're able to forgive us…"
Looking down at the floor, Yeosang avoids their gazes entirely, but still feels the warming of his skin in the spots their eyes bore into him. There isn't any chance he wouldn't not forgive them, especially when it's not the end of the world even if he believed it to be in that moment. Besides, this is the most remorseful they've ever been and Yeosang truly believes their apologetic over it, even if he still doesn't know the reason behind their intentions.
"I won't hold it against you two," Yeosang says, picking his head up from where it hung above his shoulders. "I just… I don't understand why you wanted me to watch you two?"
There's another question lingering on his tongue, but he bites it back for now.
"We know you like watching us—the members—when we're… close… and I thought—I don't know what I was thinking, exactly…" San is circling everywhere except for the center where the answer Yeosang is looking for lies. He seems bashful with providing the truth and looks to Wooyoung for support.
"Sannie likes to watch me too—with the other members, I mean." Wooyoung hits the bullseye that San was avoiding. And somehow, it also confirms a suspicion Yeosang has had in the back of his head this whole time. "So when he saw you watching me and Yunho that one time, he wanted to… return the favor. You know… when I went to you after him and Seonghwa-hyung were feeling each other up. A-And, tonight…"
This is all far too much for Yeosang to process, even if it's what he was begging to know the truth about.
San likes to watch Wooyoung playfully flirt with the other members… And he knows Yeosang likes to watch any of the members tease each other in that regard.
So he wanted to return the favor?
But what had Yeosang even done to warrant a favor being returned? Let alone, why was he even on their mind to begin with?
"You can ask questions, 'Sang-ah, it's okay," San speaks up when the room falls quiet enough for the couple to hear the gears grinding away in Yeosang's mind. His voice is gentle and grounding, leading Yeosang's racing mind to a much slower pace.
Where does he even start…
"What did you want to happen afterwards?" Yeosang throws a line, unsure if they'll bite right away.
Which they don't.
The both of them tilt their head to the right simultaneously in confusion, presumably because it wasn't the question they were expecting.
There's plenty he can ask, but this one seems to be plaguing his mind the most right now. They've answered already why they did it, but Yeosang doesn't understand the whole purpose behind it. Sure, San wanted to return the favor, but for what reason? He's not involved with San like that—they never have been, and frankly, up until now, Yeosang was convinced he never would be. Not since him and Wooyoung became a couple.
"Huh?" Wooyoung finds his voice amidst the confusion. "What do you mean?"
It seems as though the situation has flipped and the two in front of him are the anxious ones now.
"You two wanted me to see, but what was the plan once you realized I saw?" Yeosang rewords it in a way that maybe they'll understand, even though he's certain they did the first time. Just that they're too afraid to admit anything right away.
San and Wooyoung turn to each other simultaneously. Communicating telepathically, for sure.
"We, um—" San starts with, but he seems to fumble on the rest of his sentence. Hands clasped between his legs and looking every which way except for in Yeosang's direction. A light dusting of pink shading his cheekbones as if he downed a few shots before all of this.
"We've been wanting to invite you to join us, 'Sang-ah," Wooyoung finally lets out with a forceful breath, as if it took all of the air in his lungs to do so. "We thought this might have been a good way to dip your toes into the idea of it, but again, we should have just been honest with you from the beginning."
Once again, it's Yeosang's turned to be smacked with the paddle of confusion. As if they're playing a twisted game of tennis, taking turns experiencing befuddlement for each moment. They answered his question, but at what cost; it only left him with hundreds more in return.
"You want to fuck me? Is that what you're saying?" Yeosang blurts out, the words not bothering to halt at the final checkpoint before being verbalized into existence.
"Y-Yeah," they both stutter out in unison. Even gulping at the same time. They really do make a good couple, especially with how they do nearly everything hand in hand.
Which, now, apparently involves wanting to have sex with Yeosang.
"So, instead of asking me, you two get in my head instead? Make me think I'm some kind of pervert for watching my best friends flirt with each other? When it turns out, you two are the perverts all along?" Yeosang's posture changes drastically as he takes control of this conversation so suddenly, his confidence boosting when he notices the couple in front of him cowering in their seats.
"Yeosang, w-what—" Wooyoung tries, but Yeosang shushes him from across the way with only a slight raise of his eyebrow.
"I don't know if you two deserve it," Yeosang says cunningly, and he can see the way the two in front of him are stunned by his words. "I think you'll really have to make it up to me, especially considering I had to leave practice early because you two couldn't wait until the end to pull that kind of stunt."
It's like night and day; the way Yeosang was earlier in the evening, compared to now. And he's loving every little reaction coming from San and Wooyoung. To see them the way he can only imagine how he looked when they found him watching them back in the practice room.
"Whatever you want, Yeosang-ah… We'll do whatever," San pleads, this time without the consult of Wooyoung, but from the corner of his eye, Yeosang can tell Wooyoung is on the same exact page regardless.
He ponders in thought for a moment, before an idea sticks to the forefront of his brain as if someone stuck it there with intent.
"You wanted me to watch you two, so I want to watch you two."
Silence falls amongst them, and all Yeosang can hear is his heartbeat against his own eardrums, and the faint sounds of breathing coming from San and Wooyoung on the other side of the couch.
"You… You want to watch us fuck?" Wooyoung is the one to speak up, and he sounds breathless as he voices the question. His eyebrows knitting together in confusion, as well.
A curt nod is enough of an answer for them both, and Yeosang notices their resolves soften afterwards.
"And you'll forgive us? For not just coming to you with this instead?" San pipes up and Yeosang nearly chuckles over his eagerness.
"If you think you can put on a good enough of a show, then maybe I can look past all of this. And maybe I'll reward you with what you want, at the end of it." Yeosang pushes himself up onto the heels of his feet and approaches them confidently. Feeling like he has them both in the palm of his hand. Once he's directly in front of them, he kneels before them and places a hand on each of their cheeks. "So, what do you say?"
They don't need to even look at each other before they're both nodding in agreeance, and verbalizing it as well. Rather desperately, in fact. It's endearing, actually. That they're kind of eager to get Yeosang into bed with them.
Something about it knots in his gut before anything even really happens, but the idea of it alone excites him in ways he pushed down for years.
Wordlessly, Yeosang drops his hands from their faces and stands, making his way towards his room down the hall. He doesn't even need to say anything before he hears the rustling of them picking themselves up from the couch and following in Yeosang's footsteps.
Each step Yeosang takes, he can feel his heartbeat thrum harder and louder in his chest—reaching a crescendo as if an orchestra is within him. This is reaching new levels that he never expected, but quite frankly, Yeosang is excited by every premonition of it. Where the moments he's seen the members playfully flirt with one another never get too far, because of a camera, now he can watch it all unfold in its entirety. But still, he can't help the nervousness that presents itself within him despite the excitement.
The second they enter his room, Yeosang takes a seat in the chair at his desk, and spins around in it so he has a clear view of his bed. Relaxing against the back of the chair, folding his hands over his stomach as if he's the boss-man. "I would say pretend I'm not even here, but I don't think either of you want that."
Yet, neither of them make a move.
"Yeosang-ah…" San says softly, a pout nearly tugging on his lips.
"Yes, Sannie? What's wrong?"
He hesitates, but keeps his eyes on Yeosang. "We really want to make it up to you… Is there… anything you want to see? That, you know… you haven't been able to, yet?"
Oh.
Quite honestly, Yeosang didn't expect this. He simply assumed he would just sit and watch them in their moment, and he was completely satisfied with that. But it seems like they're truly eager to make it up to Yeosang—even if he's already forgiven them in his head plenty of times. Giving him the chance to create a scenario from the wildest parts of his imagination is probably more dangerous for himself than for them, but this isn't something he can just pass up.
"You want me to tell you two what to do?" Yeosang asks out of confirmation, just to ensure this is what San is insinuating.
"Yes," Wooyoung breathes out, his chest heaving slightly where he stands.
Watching them stand before him, willingly handing him the reigns of their sexual fate stirs the pot in his gut in ways Yeosang didn't think was possible. It ignites the fire within him, and suddenly every single moment he wished he could ever see more of from the two of them specifically comes to mind.
"You'll tell me if it's too much, or if you need a break, right?" Yeosang clarifies, and they agree in eagerly in unison.
Seeing them like this already is beyond addicting, and Yeosang is worried he's digging himself a hole too deep. Unable to come back up by the end of it, the two of them more than likely leaving him behind while they continue on their merry way afterwards.
"Sit on the bed. I want to see Wooyoung-ah on your lap, San-ah. Straddling those thick thighs of yours," Yeosang commands right away, not wanting to waste another second.
He watches as San immediately obliges by sitting near the edge of Yeosang's bed, and Wooyoung climbs on to his boyfriend's lap barely a second later. Wooyoung's legs folding in half on either side of San's thighs where he settles himself comfortably. They look at each other briefly before turning to face Yeosang, waiting for his next command.
"I remember seeing you two like this before you told all of us about your relationship, and I thought it made me feel sick at first—but I couldn't have been more wrong about that feeling," Yeosang confesses and their expressions stupefy immediately. It comes out of nowhere, and neither of them expect to hear it. "I knew something was going on between you two—all of us did—but catching you two like this in mine, Wooyoung, and Jongho's room when you thought no one else would see… I think it was the start of this dirty little secret of mine, but I just didn't realize. San, put your hands on Wooyoung's waist, and Wooyoung, put your hands on either side of his jaw."
They blink at him, slightly slack-jawed over the sudden confession, but they follow through with his directions. Staring into each other's eyes now. And that's when Yeosang sees it—the same look he saw that day nearly five years ago. The absolutely love-struck adoration in San's eyes when he's looking at Wooyoung right before kissing him like he's his entire world and even more.
"You still look at him the same way, San-ah. Like he's your everything, and that you're incapable of existing without him."
In a sense, Yeosang has always been jealous of their relationship. Yearning for something like they have with someone, one day, but knowing it'd be difficult given the nature of his career. How they're able to make it work is beyond him, but he's happy for them. Genuinely. Even if it feels like a sore wound seeing them be so intertwined with one another every now and then when Yeosang is unable to have that for himself.
"He is." San gulps while maintaining eye contact with Wooyoung. Yeosang almost wishes he could see the look on his best friend's face, but even then, he wouldn't have anything to compare it with like he's able to with San. "I couldn't imagine doing any of this without him by my side."
Yeosang can see Wooyoung melting, regardless, and he bottles the sensation filling in his chest. "Wooyoung-ah, kiss him."
And Wooyoung wastes not a second longer before diving in and capturing San's lips with his own into a chaste kiss that quickly turns heated. Watching how San's hands grip tightly onto Wooyoung's waist the second his lips are warping into one with Wooyoung's own. They move languidly together, entirely different to how it was earlier in the evening when Yeosang believed it to be immoral watching them so intently. It's as if they can't go a moment without breathing the same air, tasting, and licking it as well. San, pulling Wooyoung as close to his body as possible and Wooyoung doing the same without even realizing—like it's simply in their nature to be intertwined at a constant.
Instead of the fire Yeosang felt earlier, he feels the butterflies come back by the plenty, doubling, maybe even tripling in quantity. They've probably kissed each other hundreds of times, and yet, it still seems like it's the very first time. Yeosang feels envious, but still, he can't look away, and this time, he knows he doesn't have to.
He doesn't have to tell them to make it worth his while, because they do it all on their own. Yeosang watches as San takes Wooyoung's bottom lip between his teeth and tugs on it, eliciting a noise of pleasure from Wooyoung in response. The quickest flash of a sly grin quirks on San's lips, but Yeosang blinks and it's gone the second San goes back in for more. The kiss between them more open-mouthed than it had been just a moment prior. Their lips are spit-slick, and Yeosang is certain he can see drool pooling in the corner of San's lips, begging to drip down to his chin. The knot in Yeosang's gut tugs over the sight.
Even their hands have moved with a mind of their own. Wooyoung's hands cradling the back of San's head, fingers carding through his boyfriend's short and well-maintained hair. Yeosang can see every time Wooyoung's fingers grip or dig into San's scalp, and how it effects the man. How San arches into the kiss ever so slightly each time. Meanwhile, San's hands have gone further south and settle confidently on Wooyoung's hips, splayed out proudly across the area it dominates. His fingers are in a similar scenario, in regards to the gripping and digging into Wooyoung's hips, but just as much, Yeosang can see how San is pulling Wooyoung further against him at the same moment his hair is tugged.
It doesn't take much for the first moan to break the sound-barrier, and fuck, Wooyoung sounds even prettier when he doesn't have to hold back as much. This time, their only audience is Yeosang, and not the other members, and whatever staff members might pop their head in. Where the moan gets caught somewhere in Wooyoung's throat, San eagerly swallows it down, but not before Yeosang can hear it loud and clear. Unable to ignore the way it's only fuel added to his ongoing fire.
Just as he expected, the more San pulls Wooyoung against him, the more their kiss loses structure when Wooyoung can't help the moans and whimpers spilling from his lips over the increased stimulation. As much as Yeosang loves hearing his best friend sound this way, they've gone against his directions.
"Stop," Yeosang commands, and they halt their movements.
They're practically panting into each other's mouths instead of kissing. Wooyoung leaning his forehead against San's for support, and his shoulders nearly slumped around around San's head as his muscles tense up over the pleasure he had felt.
At least they know how to listen.
"I didn't say you could do all of that," Yeosang says where he's still leaned back in his desk chair. Except now, his arms are folded over his chest, and the tent in his pants is very much visible to San that's peering over into his direction.
"I-I'm sorry," San apologizes, his eyebrows worrying together already. "I couldn't help it… It felt too good, Yeosang-ah…"
Yeosang doesn't say anything, but instead, he wheels over to the side of his bed not up against a wall. The entire time, San's eyes follow until they can't anymore, to which he keeps his head straight ahead. Not wanting to move even a muscle in this moment, just in case Yeosang doesn't approve of it. But, Wooyoung's eyes land on him instead, and it's only now that Yeosang can see how fucked out he looks already from hardly anything.
Since they've first met, Yeosang has always thought Wooyoung was handsome, beautiful, pretty, et cetera; however, in this light, Yeosang is convinced he's down right ethereal with the way his mouth hangs open and his hair is tussled from his own volition. Especially how swollen and plump his lips are from kissing San so raw and earnestly.
It nearly knocks the breath out of Yeosang's chest.
"Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang exhales, and Wooyoung's attention hyper-focuses on him entirely, nodding at the mere mention of his name. "Did it feel good? Grinding down on Sannie like that?"
"Mhm, so good, Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung musters out, finally able to catch his own breath.
"I could tell. You look so fucked out already, Wooyoung-ah—so prettily fucked out." Yeosang wheels himself closer to the foot of his bed and leans in closer to become perpendicular to where they sit. His hands comes up to cup the side of Wooyoung's face, and Yeosang feels the way Wooyoung tenses beneath his touch so suddenly. But he doesn't give it much of a worry before he turns his attention back to San, who is finally looking back at him again. "San-ah, I want you to make Wooyoungie come like that—from grinding down on your lap. Can you do that?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Yeosang sees the way Wooyoung's eyes widen, and he can feel the man tense even more beneath the touch of his hand.
"Y-Yes, I can," San says so surely, and Yeosang believes him. They've been together for years at this point, so surely he's made Wooyoung unravel in this exact way plenty of times. He nods and offers a smile in return before turning back to Wooyoung.
"Don't hold back any noises, okay? I want to hear how good it makes you feel." Yeosang says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Wooyoung gulps instead of saying anything, but Yeosang takes it as confirmation, so he finally removes his hand and leans back against his chair. Even scooting it to be even with where San sits to get a better view of Wooyoung this time.
"You can do whatever you need to do to make him come, San-ah. And no need to rush, we're not in a hurry here."
And truthfully, they're not. When Yeosang had been leading them to his bedroom, he whipped his phone out and made sure to text Yunho it's best to not come home tonight—what reason he gave is up for the imagination of the most wildest.
Even then, San doesn't waste anytime in diving back into everything Wooyoung has to offer, and Wooyoung lets out a surprised yelp over the sudden attack on his lips, but melting into it rather immediately. The hands on Wooyoung's hips regain their control in a matter of seconds and eagerly pull him down on to San's lap, just like they had been before Yeosang interrupted.
From this new angle, Yeosang can see the shudder that travels down Wooyoung's spine, and how his jaw goes slack from the slightest presence of pleasure already setting up shop in his gut. Yeosang hears Wooyoung's breath hitch right after, and instead of the noise landing against his eardrums, it hits him square in his own groin. Fueling his own fire even more, and God, he's going to be long-ruined before they even get to him.
He's already decided that no matter how well or how badly they listen to him, he needs to get underneath or between the both of them before this night ends. As much as he loves being a metaphorical-cuck in this situation, he can't be blue-balled for a second time tonight.
It's just a matter of how much self-restraint he has in the meantime.
"Feel good, baby?" San coos when the only thing that comes from Wooyoung in the moment are breathy little pants, and wispy gasps getting caught in his throat over and over again.
And the only thing Wooyoung can muster out is a very audible gulp, along with an eager nod from his head where it rests against San still.
"Let Yeosang-ah hear you—f-fuck—how pretty you sound while you grind against my cock." San himself is nearly just as much of a mess as Wooyoung, but he's able to keep himself more composed, Yeosang is learning. He'll let him have this for now, but not for long. "Don't you wanna be good for him? So we can get our reward?"
"Hn–ng ah! Mmh, f-feels so good, S-Sannie," Wooyoung says in a mumble of slurs, forcing his tongue to do something other than hang out of his mouth like a dog while he mindlessly moves his hips in tandem with San's efforts. Chasing every little bit of pleasure that pings throughout his gut, promising relief that's yet to come.
And from there, every single noise possible flows from Wooyoung like a never-ending waterfall into Yeosang's ears. Ranging from the same breathy gasps and sharp inhales all the way to full blown moans that ring out against Yeosang's eardrums the same way a gunshot would—except this is far more exhilarating.
Yeosang can see the way Wooyoung's face contorts as the pleasure builds and builds within him, losing all control of his muscles in the process. Except for where his eyes squeeze shut and Yeosang can tell he's leaning all of his body-weight on to San through his forehead, but Wooyoung isn't even aware of it. In the same sense, Yeosang watches how Wooyoung's fingers never lose their grip on San's shortened locks of hair, desperately holding on to every strand possible as he's worked closer and closer to completion.
"Fuck! Right t-there, don't stop—" Wooyoung cries out, his words barely audible with how much his tongue refuses to cooperate with his mind.
This whole time, Yeosang was too focused on Wooyoung and his pretty, fucked out features to notice just how close to unraveling San is himself. His attention diverts to the other man for a split second, and Yeosang can recognize that he's barely holding on, his composure just as unkept as Wooyoung's. Yeosang's eyes drift down San's torso and follow where his hands are attached to Wooyoung, noticing the strain of his muscles from working to keep Wooyoung as closely pressed against him as possible. Every possible vein bulging from his hands and arms over the grip alone.
Carefully, Yeosang wheels his desk chair even closer to the bed and leans as far as he can before he's essentially on the mattress. The shell of San's ear is barely a breath away, and Yeosang can see the sweat beading at his hairline, and just how ferociously Wooyoung grips at his hair. Seeing it so up close is immaculate, and he almost feels bad for what he's about to do.
"Are you close, San-ah?" Yeosang whispers just loud enough for the two men beyond focused on their own pleasure to remember that he's here and paying very close attention.
With Wooyoung still clinging to him, San whips his head around the best that he can, and comes face-to-face with Yeosang at once. His own eyebrows are practically knitted together as he chases the same bouts of release he was instructed to bring Wooyoung to. He looks a hot mess, and Yeosang feels the knot tighten in his stomach the second San locks eye contact with him. All while Wooyoung is moaning out his boyfriend's name oh-so desperately just centimeters away from them. If anything, the only thing keeping Yeosang apart from San is Wooyoung's arm curling further in on itself atop of San's shoulder as he's nearing the release he craves endlessly.
"Mhm I'm—a-ah—I'm so c-close, Yeosang-ah."
The words drip off of San's tongue, and Yeosang is beyond tempted to lap them up with his own, but he keeps his composure upright for now. He doesn't know what compels him, but Yeosang brings his hand up to San's face and uses his fingers to hold the man by his chin. Watching how San melts into the touch so delicately, as if he's a piece of chocolate sitting in someone's palm. All the meanwhile he still ruts his hips up against Wooyoung's that he pulls down against him.
"Stop," Yeosang commands.
Immediately, the light in San's eyes ceases, but his actions do not. He stares back at Yeosang with a puppy-dumb look on his expression, hoping he might have heard wrong.
But he didn't. He heard perfectly right.
"W-What?" San asks despite knowing his ears aren't playing tricks on him.
"I said, stop," Yeosang repeats, using everything in him to apply a thin layer of sternness to his voice.
From the other side, Wooyoung cries out the second San's hands die on his hips, as well as the upward thrusts that subdue into nothing. "Why…? I'm so—"
"I never said San could come," Yeosang shares, still staring intently into San's eyes where he practically watches the life drain out of him over the halt of his orgasm that was just on the cusp of arrival.
It's a bit cruel, he thinks, but he knows San will appreciate it in the long-run—at least he hopes he does.
"But—how—how am I supposed to… without…" San asks aloud, working through it verbally instead of mentally. A pout is taut on his lips the entire time, and God, Yeosang wants to kiss it away, but he holds back.
"You can't get him off without getting yourself off?" Yeosang asks teasingly, and it almost hurts him to even play in that manner, because San still looks so physically pained over all of this.
But it's like a switch flipped, and suddenly, San's pout softens into a look of determination. All while Yeosang holds his chin so tenderly, still.
"I can!" he cries out to the point that maybe a tear might fall if he was any closer to the edge of his release.
"Then be a good boy and show me, San-ah." Yeosang offers a sly smile and leans away, taking his hand with him. Leaning all the way back until his shoulders come in contact with the chair, and the bulging beneath his pants is revealed once more.
Before San makes any moves, Yeosang notices his eyes trail down to the evidence of Yeosang's own arousal and how the man gulps over the sight of it alone. His chest heaving, as well.
Fuck.
Slowly, he looks back up, and his eyes are the widest they've ever been. "Can I move him around? Or does he have to stay right here?"
"Do whatever you need, San-ah," Yeosang responds with, and he watches a sense of relief wash over San's features. Yeosang already knows what's running through his mind, and he finds it slightly amusing. Realizing that San won't last if Wooyoung is to continue going at it in the same spot, but he wants—no, needs—to hold on.
In front of him, Yeosang watches as San finally gives his attention back to a very needy and desperate Wooyoung, who is struggling to keep his composure even during this brief intermission.
"Need you to scoot down, baby—on to my thigh. Can you do that?" San asks so nicely, his words so gentle against both Wooyoung and Yeosang's ears. Even bringing a hand up to comb through Wooyoung's hair that's so slowly growing more dampened by the minute. Wooyoung nods and begins moving right after, picking one of his legs up to bring it in between San's so he's properly seated on the man's right thigh—the one closest to Yeosang. "Thank you—always such a good listener, 'Young-ah."
San's face manages to soften as he's no longer hanging on by a thread since his main source of relief has shifted elsewhere. But even then, there's a sense of pain lingering over his satisfaction being disrupted in the way that it was.
He gives a kiss to Wooyoung as his hands fall back down to the man's hips, helping him regain the momentum they had prior. Wooyoung melts against his lips and beneath his hold instantaneously, as if it's all he knows how to do. Yeosang watches how they easily fall back into rhythm with Wooyoung riding San's thigh as opposed to his groin. And from this angle, he can clearly see the both of them and how much more focused San appears this time around. Making sure his boyfriend receives everything Yeosang instructed him on.
It doesn't take long for Wooyoung to dissolve into a puddle once more, easily collapsing against San again and their kiss disintegrating at the first moan to bubble up from his throat. Everyone in the room knows how close he is, and it's only a matter of time before he's making a mess of himself in his pants, and the thought of finally seeing Wooyoung unravel brings a wave of excitement across Yeosang's senses.
Even when they were roommates all those years ago, Yeosang never got the chance to see Wooyoung in such bliss, like he's seeing in this very moment. Though, it's not like he wanted to at that time. He likes to say that his feelings for Wooyoung blossomed slowly over time, like a flower that's late to blooming, and only truly realizing them once him and San became an item. Still, he never gave it too much thought when he knew it'd never become anything.
The only true time he's ever come close to seeing Wooyoung like this is the very memory he's recreating right now, except Yeosang bolted away from his and Wooyoung's shared room the moment he heard a broken moan scratch through the sound barrier.
Never did he think he'd be graced with the opportunity to see how that day really played out, but he's imagining it went something similar to this. The only difference, is that he's in control and doesn't have to run away.
Maybe even then, they wanted Yeosang to hear and see everything, but we're even more fearful of it. That's too much for him to fathom, though, so he shakes the thought away. Regaining his focus on the way Wooyoung is picking up his speed, but lacking proper coordination the closer he gets.
"A-Ah—I'm s-so—fuck! I'm so close," Wooyoung cries out nearly in a shrill. Every time his erection glides across San's thigh, a new sound emits from his vocal chords, and each time, it's like music to Yeosang's ears that bypasses nearly every other receptor in his body and beelines to his groin.
"C'mon, jagi," San whispers for only Wooyoung to hear, but Yeosang does as well. Just barely. "Show 'Sang-ah how pretty you are when you come—how you sound calling out his name."
Oh.
Yeosang can't ignore the twitch that causes in his dick beneath his sweatpants.
"Mm, S-Sangie…" Wooyoung musters out without a second thought. "Wanna come… Feels—a-ah! So good—Sannie f-feels so good."
From where he's sitting, Yeosang struggles with the urge to cross the distance and help Wooyoung who's been on the edge for so long at this point. It's almost as if…
"Show me, Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang says as he leans in all the way again, nearly barging into the space the couple shares. His voice is thick against his own eardrums, and barely registers in his mind as his own. Only when Wooyoung picks his head up from San's shoulder to look at him does Yeosang realize it is his voice. "Wanna hear everything—wanna hear you scream my name like it's my leg you're fucking right now, not Sannie's."
He's leaned in impossibly close that he could kiss Wooyoung if he wanted to—which fuck, he wants to so badly.
It brings out a wanton of moans from Wooyoung as he grinds his hips down even more ferociously than before. Yeosang doesn't think as he brings a hand up to cup Wooyoung's face while he watches the ecstasy paint a sheen layer over his expression.
"Please, 'Sangie," Wooyoung begs, it coming out choked as if he had to force it out. He looks at Yeosang with mercy coating the whites of his eyes.
"Come," is all Yeosang has to say, with Wooyoung in his hold, before the man finally grinds his hips down one last time and tenses up entirely as the pleasure rips through him like a bolt of lightening struck through him.
"S-Sangie!" Wooyoung practically screams out as he continues rutting against San's thigh during his orgasm. He stutters through it while gasping and squealing a string of broken noises and sounds, some of which might resemble syllables of Yeosang's name. Against Yeosang's palm, Wooyoung succumbs entirely, unable to find the strength to hold up his own weight to the point Yeosang has to bring another hand up to support the man.
San's hands stay on Wooyoung's hips the whole time, helping him grind out every last drop into his pants. Barely, Yeosang glances over for the shortest of a moment to catch San's expression, and he's met with half-lidded eyes staring back at him. He looks back over at Wooyoung who is wincing now as the pleasure becomes swapped over for a sense of overwhelm instead.
"Good boy, Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang praises when Wooyoung ends up collapsing in between him and San. His chest heaving from the level of exertion, already. The man whimpers slightly over the words and barely musters up a nod from where his head lays on San's shoulder again. Yeosang allows one of his hands to comb through the hair dangling from Wooyoung's head, attempting to sweep the strands behind his ear so he can get a better view of his face.
There's something about the sight of seeing Wooyoung grow to the level of being worked-up, but to see him in his post-orgasm state, entirely blissed out, is even more of a treat than Yeosang expected.
He steals his focus away from Wooyoung for a short moment and looks up at San again, but keeping his eyes trained there this time. As expected, San is looking at him with want in his eyes. Like he's a puppy that's been neglected, almost.
"And good boy, Sannie." Yeosang removes his hand from Wooyoung's head to rest it against San's cheek instead, who instantly melts against the touch. "You listened so well, I knew you could do it."
It's addicting the way San responds to Yeosang's words, and it shouldn't be.
"I think you deserve a reward for being such a good boy," Yeosang hums and looks down at Wooyoung that's slowly coming back to life. "Don't you think Wooyoung-ah?"
He perks up the second his name is mentioned, and Yeosang fights back the knotting in his gut when Wooyoung's eyes resort back to their doe-like state. Already seeming eager to please San in whatever way Yeosang commands.
Between the both of them, Yeosang doesn't know how he's going to survive.
"Wooyoung-ah, he took such good care of you, I want you to do the same for our Sannie here. Can you do that?" he asks with a gentle look in his eye, and Wooyoung nods eagerly.
"Is there—do you want to see me do anything?" Wooyoung cautiously speaks up to ask for clarification. After all, this is all about Yeosang telling them what to do to each other.
While he's had plenty of fleeting thoughts plague his mind about what San and Wooyoung might get up to in their more intimate moments, Yeosang truly tried not to dwell on them for too long. At the end of the day, they're his friends, and he can only allow his imagination to go so far before his moral ground shakes beneath his footing and brings him back to reality.
"Hm," Yeosang contemplates as his eyes dance across Wooyoung's features before him. There's sweat dripping from his hairline, trailing all the way down to the corner of his jaw. It beads in other places as well; above his upper lip, between his brows, and in the corner of his eyes. But Yeosang wonders if those are droplets of sweat, or tears instead. "You know him better than I do, 'Young-ah. You can do whatever you want, or even ask him what he wants. The both of you were so good for me, so far. I'll let you have this little treat."
The way Wooyoung's eyes light up in response is similar to when you give a child some money and tell them they can buy whatever they want from the toy aisle.
He pulls his hand away from San's face and leans back into his chair, ignoring the wet heat that is trapped within his sweatpants. "You two can have your freedom, here. I'll sit back and watch."
It's adorable, how Wooyoung wastes no time and turns to face San again, eagerly waiting to hear what he has to say about all of this.
"What do you wanna do, baby?" San asks softly.
And suddenly, it's almost like Wooyoung wasn't expecting his boyfriend to give him the control of how he comes.
"I want…" he starts, but the rest of his thought dissolves on his tongue. There's a moment where he ponders, staring into San's eyes at the same time. Then, as if a light-bulb goes off above his head, Yeosang can see an idea come to his forefront. "I want you to fuck my mouth, Sannie."
Oh, God.
A shiver runs down Yeosang's spine before he can even imagine the sight of San stuffing Wooyoung's mouth full of his cock. Rutting his hips relentlessly into the man's tight-heat of a throat and Wooyoung taking all of it like he's meant to do just exactly that. Swallowing down everything San has to offer.
San looks over at Yeosang with pleading eyes. "Can he?"
Yeosang only nods, because he knows if he voices anything, it'll come out weak and cracked from the amount of arousal coursing through his veins over the premise of this alone. He can't let his facade falter just yet. Not until he sees everything he wants, and finally allows them to have him in whichever way they want, but even then, it'd still be in his own benefit.
"Okay," San says in response and turns back to Wooyoung. "Tap me if it's too much, okay?"
Wooyoung nods, voicing out a small "yes," as well before leaning in to kiss San. It barely lasts long enough to do any sort of additional damage to Yeosang's erection, but just enough for his cock to twitch in his pants, especially at the way a string of spit hangs between them, connecting their lips together. The moment Wooyoung get's off of San's lap, it breaks.
They move around Yeosang's bed like it's either of their own as they re-situate to better accommodate the position they have in mind. This must be something they've done before, because both of them move wordlessly. Wooyoung settles in half-seated upright position against Yeosang's headboard. Meanwhile, San crawls his way over and moves to straddle himself above Wooyoung's legs, but never sitting down, only hovering in the liminal space between him and his boyfriend.
Something about seeing them like this, where Wooyoung looks up at San so expectantly brings a fresh wave of heat over the entirety of Yeosang's body. He's begging with his eyes alone, and God, Yeosang doesn't know how San does this. If it were him in San's position, he would never be able to get used to it, nor recover afterwards.
San tucks his fingers into the waistband of his sweats and underwear, and tugs them down until his cock fully-hardened cock is springing into the air. There's a small hiss of relief that Yeosang can hear come from him, but can't fully see from where he's seated much further back, but he doesn't miss the way San brings his head back ever so slightly over the sensation.
But disappointment comes about Yeosang when San only lowers his pants enough to just below his ass.
"Take them all the way off," he says without realizing, and San whips his head around to the sound. A look of surprise in his eyes before he complies and crawls off of the bed, and only then does Yeosang see San in his entirety. Fully hung between his stomach and the mattress he climbs off of
The breath in Yeosang's lungs is knocked out fully. "Fuck, no wonder Wooyoung is all over you all the time."
He says it without even realizing, the words passing through his filter and sounding into the air. San pauses, but maintains eye contact with Yeosang the entire time he fully removes his pants and underwear. But this time, one at a time. His cock bouncing when he bends back up from removing his sweatpants first and then moving onto the boxers that cling to his thighs.
If he were looking up at San during all of this, he would notice the blush creeping across his cheeks in response to Yeosang's sudden realization.
Unfortunate for his view, San climbs back onto the bed and resumes the position he had before Yeosang commanded him to remove his pants fully. From where he sits, Yeosang has a clear view of San's backside, and he inhales sharply over the sight alone.
They've all seen each other somewhat nude, or fully nude, at some point in time over the years of knowing each other, but ever since their living arrangements have split, Yeosang has truly only ever seen Yunho fully in his birthday suit. The last time he's been able to see San or Wooyoung, especially, had been before the dorm split. And in those years since then, San has only grown more muscular—more solid than what Yeosang remembers.
Even though San has always been naturally thin, with his legs and arms especially, Yeosang finds himself nearly choking on the saliva pooling under his tongue by the girth of San's thighs where they flex to hold himself up in front of Wooyoung. By the like, Yeosang's eyes wander over San's glutes flexing to keep himself balanced on the rather soft and plush mattress beneath his knees. He holds back a groan as his eyes dart across the expanse of the muscularly taut golden-tan skin. Eyes tracing every outline of muscle, and ever vein that is visible through his skin.
There's restraint in his own muscles, but Yeosang is feeling rather weak in regards to holding himself back.
He watches as San closes in the distance between himself and Wooyoung, holding his cock gracefully in his grasp as he leads it towards Wooyoung's eager mouth. Already wide in anticipation—his tongue sticking out and a bead of spit dripping from the muscle onto his own sweatpants down below.
"Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang calls out, and his voice nearly cracks. He clears it and continues when Wooyoung's doe-like eyes flutter in his direction. "Don't forget how good he was to you, okay? I wanna see our Sannie let loose after letting you come."
In front of him, Wooyoung nods and voices out a weak "yes" in response.
And San doesn't waste a single second before sliding his cock over Wooyoung's flattened tongue that immediately welcomes the not-so foreign object. Yeosang scoots his chair further towards the headboard of his bed to really see the way Wooyoung takes San nearly to his hilt. Not even gagging when San surely reaches the back of his throat right away. He watches how San melts instantaneously the moment Wooyoung's lips wrap fully around his shaft and provide a smooth glide the more saliva ends up coating him.
Yeosang takes a moment to watch the way Wooyoung's eyes cross over themselves as San continues to thrust gently into his mouth. They fall close ever so softly out of instinct, it seems, and Yeosang notices how Wooyoung's brows knit together the more San pushes himself in the entire way every time. But even then, Wooyoung shows no sign of discomfort—as if this is something he's grown used to, or was even born to do.
A shiver travels down Yeosang's spine as he catches Wooyoung's hand move from the corner of his vision, and land on the swell of San's ass. Hands covering the area entirely, and fingertips digging into the plush surface. Spreading his cheeks apart just barely, but from where Yeosang sits, he isn't able to see much else. Either way it does a toll on him how eager Wooyoung seems from pleasing his boyfriend already.
It's more than evident that San isn't going to last long, if the breathy little moans escaping from his loosened lips aren't enough to go by. He was already close when Wooyoung was grinding away on his lap, and Yeosang himself knows he wouldn't be able to hold on long if he were in San's position. Not with the way he can see Wooyoung's tongue twirling around San's cock from it bumping against the inside of his cheeks every so often. The outline of the muscle protruding from the inside only sends a flaming arrow directly into the arousal growing rapidly within Yeosang's guts.
"Fuck, you're taking him so well, 'Young-ah," Yeosang says without even realizing, his words sounding more breathless than he would ever intend. It must fuel the fire within both of them, because Wooyoung moans over the praise, resulting in San letting out a wanton moan in response over the vibration it spreads over his dick.
"Hm—I'm—a-ah—so close," San whimpers out. His head nearly gives way as Wooyoung continues to moan around San's cock that presses against the back of his throat with every thrust.
Something conspires within Yeosang's mind, and he doesn't have any control over preventing himself from bringing it to life. He wheels himself to the edge of his mattress, once again as close to between the couple as he can be without leaving the desk chair. A hand reaches out not so tentatively and finds itself brushing back the bangs clinging to Wooyoung's sweaty forehead.
He has a theory, and now might be the only time he's able to properly put it to a test.
"Did you hear him, 'Young-ah?" Yeosang asks, and it's one-hundred percent rhetorical, but Wooyoung's eyes flutter open anyway and he blinks rapidly as a form of response. "You're such a good boy for letting him fuck your mouth like this. For taking him all the way and not putting up a fight."
What he hears in response, is enough to bring his test to a conclusion already.
Wooyoung melts against where Yeosang's hand rests on the side of his head, and squeals over the words that pound against his eardrum like a drill. Sending a fresh wave of vibrations over San that causes him to almost double-over, and his jaw to go slack as a stream of whimpers drip from his tongue.
"All you wanna do is please our Sannie, right?" Yeosang asks again, and Wooyoung nods to the best of his ability despite his mouth being stuffed. Once again, he tries to verbalize a response, but it only comes out as muffled vibrations that bring plenty of new waves of pleasure to San. Bringing him closer and closer to his climax. "Look at him, only you could make him like this. A whimpering, blubbering mess, desperate to come down his boyfriend's throat."
"I'm—f-fuck! I'm not—" San mewls, his breath hitching in his throat when every little thing Wooyoung is doing is piling up just right, and bringing him steps away from reaching the mountain-peak.
Yeosang finally turns to look at San fully, who is barely hanging on, and nearly unable to hold himself up. The breath within Yeosang's lungs is practically knocked out over the sight—sweat beading down profusely from San's hairline and the muscles in his face contorted in such a way that's earnestly showing every ounce of pleasure Wooyoung is giving him. Every little bit of him is fucked out despite only having his cock touched, and Yeosang can't get enough. He boldly reaches out to San and cradles his face with his fingertips, much like he did with Wooyoung right before he came.
"You don't have to hold back, San-ah," Yeosang says, leaning in close enough that they're hardly a breath apart. He can feels San's ragged breaths hitting his own face. "I wanna see you come."
San is barely looking at him—his eyes mostly slits at this point—but Yeosang can see him so clearly. The way he's trying to keep himself on the precipice instead of finally unraveling. Even if this is the first time Yeosang has ever seen him in this manner, he can tell the man is holding on. If the heavy breathing and tensed muscles are anything to go by.
Another second goes by, and San completely tenses beneath Yeosang's tender, yet gentle hold. His jaw goes slack the second the wave crashes against the shore, and a sound so gutted rips from his chest right after. San dissolves as soon as possible, a soft string of moans following one after the other, as if they're in pursuit of each other. Yeosang watches as every muscle in his face relaxes the more and more Wooyoung swallows him down, working him through every last little bit of his orgasm—Wooyoung doesn't flinch once over the sheer amount he guzzles down.
It isn't until San whines from a sense of overstimulation does Wooyoung finally cease his efforts, only doing so when San finds the strength to tap on him as the signal that it's too much—one Wooyoung never had to resort to. He pulls off of San with a lewd pop and San visibly relaxes once more as his well-spent cock flops between his legs. San falls down onto his legs, so they're folded beneath him, and if he was flexible enough, Yeosang would expect him to fall completely on his back as well. His chest rises heavily with each breath slowly bringing him back to the surface, and still, all Yeosang can do is watch.
Never in a million years did he expect to be able to see two of his closest friends—and band mates—come for each other under his guide, but fuck, this might be the best night of his life.
"You okay, baby?" San asks, looking directly at Wooyoung. The glint in his eyes is replaced with one regarding a level of concern that Yeosang hadn't seen present until now. "I wasn't too much, was I?"
For some reason, the personal intimacy between the couple isn't something Yeosang expected to see, but it brings a warmth to him—completely different from the raging heat he's been feeling this entire time.
"No, no. Of course not," Wooyoung replies. His own eyes mirror the same glint, and Yeosang really finds it hard to make a distinction between the two right now.
They both turn to him, each equally as out of breath. It's as if they're expecting Yeosang to say something, but he himself doesn't quite know what to say.
"So," Wooyoung starts first. He looks down rather bashfully, as if he's capable of being shy all of a sudden. "Did that live up to what you were expecting?"
It catches him off guard, the question.
If he answers truthfully, they probably aren't going to believe him in a sense. Meanwhile, if he masks some of the truth, they might be able to tell he's not being entirely upfront.
"It did," is what he settles with.
And they both catch on that there's more that lies beneath the surface, because of course they do. Wooyoung has known him for more than a decade, and San nearly just as long. They know how to read between Yeosang's lines better than Yeosang himself at this point.
"But?" Wooyoung leads with, hoping for Yeosang to piggyback off of his gentle lead.
Yeosang's posture relaxes where he sits, and a soft sigh escapes his from his lips.
"I never… I never expected any of you to ever indulge in this, and I don't want to seem greedy." The last thing he wants is for his friends to think he's using them as some kind of toys for his own enjoyment. Especially when they weren't even supposed to know about this side of him.
"Yeosang-ah," San says, this time. "We wanted to do this for you. If we didn't, we wouldn't have done what we did earlier."
His words are so gentle that Yeosang feels his stomach curl around the arousal that had only been present thus far. The warmth mixing with the heat, but instead of combining, they're polarizing and making his stomach churn instead.
"What else do you want to see, 'Sang-ah?" Wooyoung asks so softly and Yeosang thinks he's going to be sick.
"It's not what I want to see, but…" he pauses mid sentence, unsure how to proceed. Still, they stare at him with a curiosity and need to please in their eyes that make him feel more grounded. "Rather, what I want to feel."
Now, it's their turn to be caught off-guard.
A moment of stunned silence finds its way through the room, filling every nook and cranny possible. Wedging itself into the cracks between the floor and the walls. Making itself known with every second that passes.
"What you want to feel?" San repeats, as if he believes his ears might have played a trick on him. "What do you mean by that?"
Yeosang fiddles with the strings of his sweatpants in the meantime. Feeling the bashfulness spread through his veins once again tonight. Just, not as rapid this time around.
"I want…" he hesitates. The words sit heavy on his tongue. They stare at him, still, with that same look, but with much more curiosity piquing their interest now.
"Go ahead, baby," San says in a gentle tone, hoping to coax the words out from Yeosang with ease.
Except the pet name only brings a shock to his system instead. Yeosang freezes and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head upon hearing it, but still, San looks at him with so much care in the world. A coercing smile spreading thinly over his lips at Yeosang's reaction alone.
"I wanna know how you two would make me feel good…" Yeosang finally musters out, and he swears he can hear both of their hearts stop beating. They don't say anything, and Yeosang takes their stunned silence as the opportunity to explain further. "You said you wanted to fuck me, that's why this all happened in the first place. And you two were so good, and listened so well to my instructions. I think you deserve that reward…"
They fall speechless, and Yeosang watches the way their jaws tense in response to his confession. When they turn to face one another, Yeosang knows they're communicating telepathically again. Speaking with only their eyes so he can't tell what they're thinking, but he already knows.
"Are you sure?" Wooyoung asks this time, and he looks almost… concerned. Fearful that maybe they came on too strong. "You don't have to if you don't—"
"I want to," Yeosang admits. "You don't know how badly I want to, Wooyoung-ah."
He's still scooted as close to his bed as possible, but Yeosang leans forward until he's practically in Wooyoung's space. Their breaths twist and mingle into one, and if he leaned in just a little bit more…
"Show me, then," Wooyoung says, leaning in to close the distance between them, but leaving a hair of space.
Yeosang swallows past a lump in his throat when Wooyoung's eyes fall down to his lips and then trail back up to meet his gaze.
All he can think about is how badly he needs to kiss Wooyoung, but still something holds him back.
Until…
"Kiss him, 'Sang-ah," San says from behind him. Voice low and sultry, differing to how he's spoke to him and Wooyoung this entire evening so far.
All caution is thrown to the wind the second San's words register in his mind, and Yeosang throws himself to the wolves—his lips latching with Wooyoung's in an instant. He catches Wooyoung off guard with the sudden dive in, but the man reciprocates in a matter of seconds, releasing a noise of surprise as Yeosang slots their lips together.
He's been waiting for this moment for years, and it's everything that he's ever dreamed of since the first time this happened—long before Wooyoung and San became official and exclusive.
The first time he kissed Wooyoung, they were probably too intoxicated for their own good, but Yeosang remembers every little detail about that night. From the drinks Wooyoung made for them, down to the way Wooyoung's tongue explored every square inch of Yeosang's mouth, milking out every possible sound Yeosang was capable of producing.
It was devastating when it came to an end, with Wooyoung passing out against his shoulder barely a minute after their lips parted, but it stayed in his memory for years and years. When the morning came, it was still fresh in his mind, but it seemed clear as day that Wooyoung had no recollection of it, based on the way he never brought it up.
But now, kissing him is so much different.
They're no longer wasted from alcohol—only from each other—but Wooyoung has more control of his senses this time around. It's not nearly as sloppy, nor are their teeth clanking together. Or breaking out into delirious giggles every time it happens. Instead, Wooyoung is confident with his lips, chasing after Yeosang more and more with each passing second. A hand finds itself caught on the front of Yeosang's shirt, gripping at it to tug the man impossibly closer, as if his life depends on it. Meanwhile Yeosang's own hand migrates into Wooyoung's hair and settles amongst the strands, tangling them between his fingertips the more Wooyoung delves into him.
He feels his head swirling for a myriad of reasons, but neither of them make the effort to pull back. If anything, they work in tandem to pull Yeosang off of the chair, and finally on to the bed. He settles in Wooyoung's lap, all without breaking the never ending kiss. The slight difference between their heads doesn't cause a hindrance at all like Yeosang would have expected. It only makes Wooyoung chase up after Yeosang even more with a hunger he never knew the man could have.
What causes the first noise to let loose is Wooyoung's hand not-so-mindlessly traveling down to Yeosang's hardening groin and palming at him through his sweatpants. The first real touch to his cock all night sends more of a reaction through him than he expected—think a bolt of lightning, but it's on fire and has no mercy for whatever object it strikes. He moans languidly against Wooyoung's mouth, feeling the electricity coursing through him over the slightest touch, and Wooyoung takes this as the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past the perimeter of Yeosang's lips.
The touching doesn't stop there as Wooyoung continues to palm him over his sweatpants, all while licking into Yeosang's mouth—just like he did all those years ago. Last time, Yeosang had the ability to fight back, but now, he's merely reduced to a puddle of goo over Wooyoung's touch. Unable to assert any of the dominance he had shown previously this night.
"God, you sound so fucking hot, 'Sang-ah," Wooyoung pants into his mouth when Yeosang loses all capabilities of kissing him back. "Just like last time."
The fire coursing through Yeosang's entire body sizzles the second he hears the words.
"You thought I didn't remember, didn't you?" Wooyoung says in a teasing tone. "I remember it so clearly, Yeosangie. I might've been drunk, but there's no way I could ever forget making out with you."
Yeosang whimpers so loudly over the confession, unable to control the volume at which it sounds. Already, he'd been on the edge, and the combination of Wooyoung's hand and words are bringing him dangerously closer.
"'Y-Young-ah…" he cries out brokenly, and he swears he hears Wooyoung chuckle over it.
"Mhm, that's my name, baby," Wooyoung teases once more, removing his hand and bringing it up to cup Yeosang's face. His thumb tracing over his cheek and traveling down to land in the middle of Yeosang's plump and swollen bottom lip. He digs the digit into the plush surface, and Yeosang's mouth easily falls open. "What d'you want, 'Sangie?"
There isn't any room for contemplation. Yeosang has known for years what's wanted from Wooyoung, and there's no chance he's gonna run from the opportunity now that it's before him.
"Want you to fuck me, 'Young-ah," he announces, out of breath, chasing after Wooyoung's thumb that slips off his lip after he speaks.
"Fuck, you can't—" Wooyoung begins to say, but Yeosang cuts him off.
"Wanted you to fuck me that night, too," he says, making an effort to lean all of his body weight into Wooyoung. And if his hips grind down a little bit, it's entirely intentional. The noise he draws out from Wooyoung in response is addictive, and the fact that it's because of him, makes his head swirl. "Wanted it so badly, couldn't stop thinking about how much you'd fill me up, 'Young-ah. Even when you and Sannie got together…"
Behind him, Yeosang hears San groan and it feels electrifying. So he continues.
"T-Then, I couldn't stop thinking about both of you… I never—a-ah—never thought of San like that before, but he… Fuck—" Yeosang keeps grinding his hips down against Wooyoung, the both of them letting out the prettiest, softest noises simultaneously. "He sounded so pretty saying my name."
And suddenly, beneath him, Yeosang feels Wooyoung tense up entirely. But still, he continues his own efforts. Drawing out noises from himself as he feels Wooyoung's near fully hard cock up against his own. It feels so intense, but not enough at the same time. After edging himself for so long, he needs to come right this instant, and he'll cry if he doesn't.
"When did you…" San asks from behind, and his voice sounds destroyed. So utterly destroyed over the realization that when he thought he was alone, Yeosang had heard him clear as day through their thin dorm walls all those years ago.
Yeosang doesn't bother turning around to answer him, keeping his eyes trained and locked on Wooyoung who sits there dumbly, letting Yeosang grind down on him. "Mm, when we—when we all lived together. Right before w-we moved out."
He remembers that night just as clearly as the night he made out with Wooyoung the first time. Everyone else had gone out for dinner, but San had stayed home, claiming he didn't feel good. None of them argued with him and simply headed out without him. Yeosang headed home early when the rest of them wanted to go get drinks afterward, and he really didn't expect to stumble upon what he did.
It was a complete accident, coming home and hearing San's soft moans filtering out of his room—where he didn't even bother closing the door all the way—and into the living room where Yeosang stood, every centimeter of his being turning beat red as the realization hit him like a truck.
"He didn't even shut the door, 'Y-Young-ah… Like he—f-fuck! Like he wanted to be caught," Yeosang pants out.
Suddenly, there's a hand carding through his hair and gripping harshly, and Yeosang yelps as his head gets tugged backwards. From the corner of his eye, San appears, and he's practically breathing down Yeosang's neck. Lips parted ever so slightly as his hot breath fans over Yeosang's just as heated skin. "You really are a pervert, aren't you?"
A groan bubbles up in Yeosang's chest in response. He can't even find it in him to deny the accusation, because fuck, he is. That night, he stood there and watched, palming himself from the doorway where San had his back turned. Watched as San fucked himself open from behind with an obnoxiously bright pink dildo in his right hand, while the fingers on his left hand were stuffed in his mouth. Drool spilling out onto his pillow beneath his face, probably placed there for comfort and an attempt to muffle his mewls.
The second he heard his name be called out, Yeosang almost came in his pants, and nearly crashed into the door entirely.
"A-Ah—" Yeosang whines, relishing in the grip San's fingers have on his strands of hair right now. His scalp burning in all the right ways. "L-Like you aren't?"
He tries to fight back, but it's no use. Not when San is evidently stronger in this situation. He feels San lean in closer until the man's lips are against the shell of his ear. Softly, he whispers, "I never said I wasn't."
God, this is all—it's all so much for him. He loves it and is convinced none of it will be enough to satiate the arousal winding tightly in his gut.
There's a need to crawl off of Wooyoung and to climb on San instead, but he wouldn't be able to even if he could. Not when Wooyoung's hands are cemented to Yeosang's hips, keeping him firmly in place. It's grounding, but infuriates him in a way, because he needs them to fuck him already. As much as he loves being their toy, now, he's needy, and far too desperate to come after leaking in his sweatpants for this long.
He squirms in both of their grasps, and he feels San chuckle against the side of his head.
"What's wrong, baby?" San whispers, once more, and it feels like pure ecstasy coursing through his veins. "Feeling impatient?"
Yeosang nods to the best of his ability, and San practically purrs. Fuck, this is going to be brutal.
"You think he's had enough?" San asks, and it's only until he realizes Wooyoung is looking past him that he figures out San is talking to his boyfriend.
He doesn't know what any of that means, but he watches Wooyoung for any sort of sign. His chest heaving as his arousal lays dormant, but still courses through his veins like a wild fire, nonetheless. The next time someone touches him, he already knows he'll be coming in a matter of seconds.
"Hmm," Wooyoung hums, and leans forward, inspecting every bit of Yeosang's face before coming to a conclusion. He's sure he looks beyond gone, but he hopes its enough that Wooyoung takes pity on him and finally touches him in whatever way he wants. "Maybe, but… I think he still needs to learn some patience. Unless he wants to beg for it."
One of Wooyoung's hands comes off of his hip, and grips his face hard. His thumb and other fingers caging around Yeosang's chin, keeping him in place.
They're playing this game on purpose, but little do they know, Yeosang has no shame, and is not against playing into their wants. If they want him to beg, then he'll beg. He'll put on a whole show, if he has to.
Anything to get what he wants.
"Please," he starts out, whining as high as he can. "Please, please, please, 'Y-Young-ah. Want—m-mm—want your cock s-so bad. I'll do anything, please—"
A strangled cry forces its way out from his lungs when Wooyoung surges forward and captures Yeosang's lips with his own. His hand drops at the same time, and finds its way back on Yeosang's clothed erection, palming roughly just like he did not too long ago. Yeosang feels himself be pushed back until he's resting fully against San, hardly noticing when the fingers tugging at his scalp disappear entirely.
Instead, Yeosang feels those same calloused fingertips slip beneath his shirt and land against his bare skin, making their way up his sides in a rather ticklish, yet arousing manner. Every little drag of San's fingers against him is another ping to his gut where Wooyoung's hand has since removed itself and works to tug down his sweatpants. At the same time, with his other hand, San pushes up Yeosang's shirt and forces the two apart for a brief second to fully remove the article of clothing from Yeosang. The second the shirt is off of his head, Yeosang finds his way back to Wooyoung with his eyes closed, and his hands cradling either side of the man's jaw.
He almost doesn't notice Wooyoung tug down his sweatpants enough to free his cock at once, because San takes it upon himself to pinch one of Yeosang's nipples between the first knuckles of his index and middle finger. It rips a moan so loud from his chest that he has no choice but to pull back from Wooyoung's lips. And when San continues to roll the budding nipple between his fingers, Yeosang feels Wooyoung's hand wrap around his cock at once, and he's seeing stars even with his eyes squeezed shut.
The pleasure in his gut builds and builds, and—
"F-Fuck—! I'm—" Yeosang has no time to warn them before Wooyoung strokes him one more time and he's coming all over the both of them. It lands all over his abdomen, Wooyoung's hand, and he's even certain he feels a drop splatter on his own chin.
"That's it, baby," San coos in his ear, and Yeosang squirms through every little bit of his much-needed climax.
He feels it all the way from the strands of his hair, all the way down to his toes. All he can manage is pathetic little gasps while Wooyoung strokes him through the rest of it, the pleasure lasting endlessly as he's pumped nearly completely dry.
By the end of it, Yeosang feels numb all over. His head rests entirely against San's shoulder behind him. He almost misses the gentle caresses from both of them as he comes down from the high, catching his breath after being so worked up. Wooyoung's hand unwraps itself from Yeosang's spent cock and winds up on his stomach, lapping up every little bit of come that landed on Yeosang's skin. When Yeosang opens his eyes, in front of him, he's granted with the sight of Wooyoung's tongue licking up whatever spilled on to his hand, and whatever he picked up on his fingers. All he can manage is a weakened whimper over the sight, feeling the way his cock twitches in response already.
Wooyoung practically melts the second his tongue comes in contact with the secretion splattered on his hand, moaning to himself as he licks every part of his skin that's coated in the substance. "God—of course your come tastes good."
From behind him, Yeosang can hear San groan in displeasure.
"Not even gonna leave any for me?" San says, sarcastically.
Wooyoung chuckles and shakes his head. "I did! There's a little bit right here."
Yeosang watches as Wooyoung brings a finger just before where he felt his own come land on his face. Pointing out the small drop for San to dine upon. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees San come into view, eyeing the spot Wooyoung pointed out. There's a sigh of defeat before he speaks.
"Can I?" San asks, and Yeosang nods eagerly.
But, what he doesn't expect is for San to lean forward and lick it directly off of his face.
A shiver splinters from his neck and down his arms, sending a bout of goosebumps to rise. The sensation of San's tongue against his own chin only eliciting something new in him that he hadn't anticipated at all. He shudders in response, as well as his breath audibly hitching the moment it occurs. It feels all too new, but far from strange—at least that's what his body is picking up.
It doesn't stop there, either. San laps up the faintest drop on Yeosang's chin and takes it upon himself to become familiar with the rest of the man's face with his mouth. His tongue eagerly chases after whatever beads of sweat have traveled down from Yeosang's hairline to his chin and began to seep into his pores. Their position is awkward, but San makes do with the straining in his neck until he reaches where Yeosang's jaw run's right beneath his ear. A sharp inhale from Yeosang is enough for San to know all of this is getting a rise out of the man, and he'll be worked up to fullness again in no time.
"Taste so good, 'Sang-ah." San pauses momentarily to whisper against the shell of Yeosang's ear. "I wonder what the rest of you tastes like…"
Alluding, is what it is. And Yeosang is not one to shy away from whatever invitation this is.
"Please, San-ah," Yeosang pleads, but the other man hadn't even directly asked anything. His chest is still heaving from coming earlier, but already his body is growing more and more worked up from the anticipation of what else is to come.
"Look at you, begging. I haven't even asked anything," San purrs. It feels like a spark of electricity against Yeosang's skin once again. "You want me to taste all of you? Hm?"
San brings a hand up to Yeosang's chin and turns the man's head more towards him to gauge his reaction. Yeosang tries to nod, but it's useless with how much his own neck is straining right now. So, he attempts to voice out in agreeance, but it comes out far more desperate sounding than he ever intended. Something in kin to a strangled whine of pure desperation.
"Turn around. Face me," San barks, hardly any fluidity in his words. Yeosang manages to peel himself off from San's chest and turn himself around to face the man. In the brief moment before he settles, San speaks up again, "'Young-ah, take his clothes off."
As if they rehearsed this, Wooyoung acts upon San's request before it's fully out of his mouth. Yeosang has hardly any time to realize what's happening before he's suddenly against Wooyoung's chest now and there a pair of hands reaching around him to remove his sweatpants and boxers. They come off as a pair, and Wooyoung barely struggles—like he's had experience with doing this kind of thing before.
In front of him, San leans up to stand on his knees and walks on them to be closer to the two of them against the headboard of the bed. Naturally, and without shame, Yeosang's legs split open to accommodate for San to place himself between them. He watches with bated eyes with each second it takes. Noticing how San's own eyes trail over every single centimeter of his body where he's now entirely exposed. He can only imagine how red and sweaty his skin glistens from everything that's conspired so far.
The moment he's close enough, San toys with the hem of his shirt just a bit before finally removing it from his torso. Exposing the expanse of supple, golden-tan skin that Yeosang has always forbade himself from drooling over—all for the sake of not wanting to home-wreck. Though, now that he's able to, it's impossible to feign the arousal that begins coursing through him again over the sight alone. How, despite San not focusing on ab workouts whenever they go to the gym together, his muscles are clearly defined there. Not chiseled like how they once were, but defined enough that Yeosang yearns to reach across the liminal space and finally get his hands on the muscles.
"You can touch me," San says, as if he's able to read Yeosang's mind more than clearly. "I want you to touch me, 'Sang-ah."
Yeosang doesn't need another moment to spare before he's pulling himself up from where he leans against Wooyoung's chest, eager to get himself as close to San as humanly possible. Carefully, as if he's frightened his careless touch would disrupt San's hard-earned beauty, Yeosang reaches his hands out and allows them to land on the small of San's waist—his thumbs resting not far from the man's belly button. He smooths over the skin beneath his thumbs and forces himself to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth.
"So handsome, San-ah…" Yeosang says without much thought.
A pair of hands land atop of his own and guide him elsewhere. They have a weight to them, showing Yeosang he doesn't need to be so careful—that he's not going to break even from the roughest of touches. Yeosang allows his hands to be maneuvered all across San—from his abdomen, to his chest, all the way up to his shoulders, and back down. Repeating the process over and over again. Allowing him to become well acquainted with the man's body in ways he's only ever dreamed of.
When San brings Yeosang's hands back up, he lets go of them and waits to see what they'll do on his own. And he certainly isn't disappointed with how they move with complete independence.
With one of his hands hooked loosely around San's neck, Yeosang tugs him down until their faces are hardly centimeters apart. Their breaths fan across each other with a level of uncertainty, waiting for the other to make the next move.
But Yeosang isn't budging—not until he hears a voice from behind him sound out.
"Kiss him, Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung says.
Before the thought can even process, Yeosang is closing the distance between him and San, and chasing after those lips he's sought after for far too long. Dreaming of them behind wide-open and even closed eyes, wondering if they would mesh with his in the same way they mesh with Wooyoung's. If they would be just as careful and careless against his own when the heat of the moment carries them away from everything else.
And he couldn't be more far off from those maladaptive dreams.
The instant their lips connect after the long awaited moment, Yeosang feels him melting into the warmth. He releases an unexpected sigh through his nose when San kisses him in a way that is much more gentle than his mind could have predicted. Especially after he's seen the way San and Wooyoung kiss, he expected it to be much more rough. But no, San takes his time and is treating every fleeting second as if it's the only chance he'll get at this, and he doesn't want to take it for granted.
A warmth is spreading through Yeosang's chest when he feels San domineer over their position, carefully leaning Yeosang back against Wooyoung who sits behind him. San moves with him when Wooyoung allows himself and Yeosang to shift in a more comfortable position. There's hands smoothing over Yeosang's sides, but it certainly doesn't feel like only one pair. For now, there only remains one pair of lips against his skin, and that's for certain.
He keeps his hands steady where they were on San's shoulders, and he searches for purchase in the man's locks, but the strands are far shorter than Wooyoung's. So, he manages with what he can, not worrying whether his nails are scratching at San's scalp or not. Only finding himself relishing in the way San leans into him with such a passion that he hardly notices his sweat-slicked back sticking more prominently to Wooyoung's now bare chest.
San's lips pass over his own with the same pace they have since the beginning, and Yeosang is convinced he could kiss someone like this for the rest of time. Where his kiss with Wooyoung was much more dire, this one feels more tidal. Seemingly matching their personalities entirely—not straying too far from how either of the two are with Yeosang one-on-one.
His mind is swirling, whether it's from the lack of oxygen becoming more apparent the longer their tongues are tasting each other, or from the thrill of this even happening in the first place. Either way, Yeosang can't feign the bit of relief when San eventually pulls away, and the evidence of their experience is apparent on his lips. Showing as a spit-slicked sheen across them, and a string of saliva connecting their mouths.
Though, San doesn't waste a second before he's diving back in, but against the skin residing near Yeosang's mouth. His own kissing and nipping at the suppleness of Yeosang's cheeks, jaw, and eventually making his way down to his neck. Involuntary noises escape without much effort the moment Yeosang feels San nipping at the thin skin across his neck and over his collarbones. It's a mere pinch at first, but the ecstasy afterwards has him squirming between the two men in his bed.
San wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to taste all of Yeosang, and Yeosang wasn't kidding when he pleaded for it the moment he heard the confession. He feels the way San licks up and down his torso, hardly leaving a centimeter of skin untouched by his lips and tongue. Relishing in the salty sweat that's permeated through Yeosang's glands and lays plentiful across his body.
Every little bit of his body that receives attention is only aiding in fueling his arousal once more. Feeling it swirl around in his gut once more, but tenfold this time around. The further down San travels, the more the sparks of electricity become apparent, and Yeosang is a whining mess beneath the men's hold. Wherever San is marking him with his mouth, Yeosang can feel Wooyoung smooth over with the tips of his fingers afterwards.
At some point, his eyes have fallen shut, and he's been relying on the sense of touch to know where San is at, but when the man's mouth vanishes suddenly, he has no choice but to open them again. Staring up at him from between his legs—that have tented against his knowledge—sits San with a puppy-like expression broken across his face.
"Wanna taste you, Yeosang-ah…" San says with eyes so wide that Yeosang feels his chest tighten.
"Please, San-ah, please—" Yeosang says as he nods his head frantically, unable to withstand another second without San's mouth on his cock.
From the corner of his eye, Yeosang can see precum beading at his tip already, and it growing significantly pinker by the second—begging to be touched again even though he came not too long ago.
But San doesn't dive in just yet.
"Do you still want Wooyoungie to fuck you?" he asks, still looking at Yeosang with those puppy-dog eyes.
"Yes, fuck—yeah, I do," Yeosang pants out. At the same time he responds, a pair of lips suddenly find themselves against his neck. Pressing feather-light kisses against the very same spots where San left his mark earlier.
"I'm gonna need to prep you, then, Sangie," Wooyoung speaks lowly against where his lips lay near the shell of Yeosang's ear. It sends a shiver down his spine and a reaction right to his cock. "Can I do that while Sannie sucks you off? Hm?"
Wooyoung's hands are free roaming all over Yeosang's torso in the process. Tickling and teasing over the warm and sensitive skin that coats his entire being. Aiding in the goosebumps that have risen plentifully all over him.
"Y-Yeah," Yeosang manages to muster out, feeling a new wave of heat envelop him over the idea of what's to come.
"Do you have lube?" Wooyoung asks, and Yeosang nods against his chest.
"It's in the top drawer." He turns his head in the direction of the nightstand to the right of his bed and San leaps to action in retrieving it. In the meantime, Wooyoung's hands and lips are persistent against his body, and Yeosang is struggling to keep himself still within the man's hold.
San finds it and hands it to Wooyoung before finding his place back in between Yeosang's legs. This time, he himself joins in on the careful touches by smoothing his hands up and down Yeosang's strong and thick calves. Allowing his fingertips to knead into the muscles with a bit of pressure.
"Cherry flavored?" Wooyoung questions aloud, now that he has the bottle in his hand, reading the label before popping the cap open and squirting a copious amount on his fingers. "Didn't know you were hooking up with people."
It's not meant to be demeaning in any way, but Yeosang can't help the way it makes him feel ten times smaller against the man he usually stands higher than. Relishing in the way it ignites a new flame in his chest.
"I'm not—I just—" he stammers, trying to find a way to defend this accusation.
"It's fine if you are, Yeosang-ah. There's nothing wrong with it," San offers. His hands move up and down Yeosang's thighs now, squeezing at the semi-relaxed muscle beneath his touch.
"I know, but I-I'm not… I—" Yeosang cuts himself off. Even though in most cases, he has no shame, but there's a bout of it laying in his mind right now as he works to spit out the reason behind the flavored lubricant. "I didn't like the taste of regular lube after jerking off."
It's off of his tongue as quick as a bandaid is ripped from a wound, but the silence that follows is astounding. Against his eardrums, all that's heard is the frantic beating of his own heart from within his chest. Not either of the men's voices.
Wooyoung clicks the cap shut and tosses the bottle somewhere on the bed.
In front of him, San is only staring at him with an undecipherable expression. "Is that why you let us clean you up like that? Because you do it to yourself?"
A weak nod falls from Yeosang's head, and the silence that fell again is broken by a low growl from San. Before he can recognize what's happening, the man comes up to him and captures his lips into a kiss that is much more haste than the first time around. It catches Yeosang off-guard and he squeals from the sudden ruggedness of San's lips against his own, but he's eager to reciprocate the energy.
At the same time, their lips are reunited, Wooyoung finds it the perfect time to snake his arm between San and Yeosang's bodies, blindly reaching for Yeosang's exposed hole somewhere in between. The sensation of the semi-warmed up lubricant against Yeosang's skin so suddenly has him gasping into San's mouth. He feels Wooyoung's finger tracing around his rim ever so carefully while San continues to lick into his mouth with a new found fervor.
"You have no idea how much you drive us crazy, Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung says, his lips still against the shell of Yeosang's ear. Teeth dangerously close to tugging at the cartilage, but refraining from doing so in the moment.
"W-Wooyoungie, please—" Yeosang finds himself rasping out while San still takes reign over his lips.
Suddenly, San leans back, and there's a fire in his eyes that wasn't there before. "I'm kissing you, and you're calling out his name?"
Just as Yeosang's about to respond, Wooyoung takes it upon himself to finally sink his finger into Yeosang's heat, rendering the man absolutely speechless for a brief moment. Yeosang can't help but tense up from the sensation. It had been a while since he last fingered himself or even got fucked, so it catches him off guard. The only thing that spills from his lips is a string of broken moans as Wooyoung fucks the finger in and out, slow and meticulously.
Even though it's apparent why Yeosang didn't respond to San's question, the other man finds disdain in the lack of a response and brings his hand up to pinch Yeosang's cheeks between his fingers—distracting him from the sensation of Wooyoung working him open.
San doesn't have to say anything before Yeosang is attempting to sputter out a response. His tongue merely flopping around in his mouth instead of working to get a proper sentence out.
"N-No, I—I didn't—" Yeosang musters out, but at the same time, Wooyoung's finger sinks in deeper than it had before and he relishes in the stretch. "Fuck—Sannie, I… Please, want you—"
The fire in San's eyes dies down, and his grip against Yeosang's face loosens. He leans in to kiss Yeosang again, and this time, it's nearly as gentle as the first time around. When he pulls back, San says, softly, "Tell us if it's too much, okay?"
"Mhm," Yeosang hums in agreeance, nodding his head in addition.
The moment San disappears from his face, Yeosang leans his head back against Wooyoung's shoulder. Soft, breathy whines building up in his throat when Wooyoung continues to work him open. He feels the man behind him latch his lips onto his neck hardly after leaving it exposed and he can't help but bring a hand up to cradle the side of Wooyoung's head. His fingers easily latching into the plentiful strands of hair that don from his scalp.
It keeps him grounded until suddenly the sensation of another pair of lips against the insides of his thighs breaks his focus from Wooyoung against his neck. From where his head lays, Yeosang strains his eyes to glance down to get a look at San leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses against every part of his thighs—switching from one to the other as he slowly approaches Yeosang's groin. In the same line of sight, he can see Wooyoung's hand disappearing underneath of his leaking cock and how his lone finger pumps in and out of him.
"Another," Yeosang breathes out when there's no longer a pain behind the stretching.
"You sure?" Wooyoung breaks away from the man's neck to respond. When Yeosang voices out a weak agreeance, Wooyoung doesn't waste another second before pulling out and lining up his other finger for the next thrust in.
Even though Wooyoung's fingers are nearly as slender as his own, it's still more than he was expecting. A shudder wracks through his body as his walls grow to adjust the new addition. Groans spilling from his lips in the process.
Yet, he doesn't have even a second to spare before suddenly a wet heat envelopes his cock, and a new whine rips out from his chest in response to San finally devouring him whole. Not even a kitten kiss to his tip before, or a subtle way of easing into it. When Yeosang is able to peel his eyes open and glance down again, all he can see is San bobbing his head up and down with a passion as if this is his job. The newfound pleasure catches him off-guard in every way possible, that his body doesn't even know what to focus on.
"Fuck—!" Yeosang curses when San pulls up and swirls his tongue around the head of Yeosang's cock.
Yeosang's other free hand comes up and finds purchase in San's hair once more, clinging on for dear life as the man takes it upon himself to lick a stripe up his cock before lapping up whatever bit of precum is beading at the top.
At the same time, Wooyoung's fingers are pumping in an out of him, pressing up against his sweet spot every so often that sends another wave of pleasure through the winding maze of arousal filling his gut. It's impossible to differentiate where the pleasure is coming from when they're both working as a tag team against him. It's never ending—the way they work together in tandem in pleasuring him in such a way.
"Feels—a-ah!—so good, I—" Yeosang mewls when San's tongue drags against the underside of his cock every time he bobs his head up and down. Working himself into a consistent rhythm.
"Doing so good for us, Sangie," Wooyoung praises against Yeosang's ear, slightly shifting to get a better angle for himself to fuck his fingers into the man. When he shifts, Yeosang can feel the press of Wooyoung's erection against his lower back and it fills him with a desire so primal—that he needs Wooyoung to fuck him senseless, now.
He whines when he continues to feel the shifting and grows aware of the fact that Wooyoung is grinding up against him. Wishing he could be of help to the man, but given their position, it'd be far too awkward for Yeosang to reach behind his back. Even if he was flexible, it'd still be a struggle.
"Need you, 'Young-ah—please, please." Yeosang turns his head to face Wooyoung and begs. His mouth falls open and eager breaths spill out.
"Not yet, baby," Wooyoung coos in response. "You're still so tight, don't wanna hurt you."
And it's at that moment Wooyoung pulls his fingers out at once, before slamming back into Yeosang with a third finger in tow.
"I'm—! Fuck, I'm not—" Yeosang writhes between the men at the sudden intensity of it all, feeling the familiar ball of pleasure build again tonight.
San hears his cries and begins picking up the pace even more than before. He swallows Yeosang down to new lengths he hadn't gone before, all for the premise of getting the man to come down his throat—to achieve his goal of wondering what all of Yeosang tastes like.
It's far too much—Wooyoung fucking his fingers into him with no remorse now that he's also digested Yeosang's words, and San deep-throating Yeosang as if his life depends on it.
When this night began, way back in the practice room, he didn't imagine it ending like this—not by a long shot. Though, he's not complaining. Not one fucking bit.
The burning stretch of his walls is slowly numbing with the mask of pleasure building in his groin. It's only a matter of time before his orgasm washes over him for the second time that night, and call him greedy, but he needs it now. From the way he can feel it all the way down in his toes, his entire body is beyond restless at the overstimulation presenting itself that he needs it to happen already. Growing more and more needy by the second, chasing his much needed release.
Wooyoung's fingers are thrusting into him without a lick of hesitancy, only with the promise to stretch him open so he'll be ready for his cock. But every so often, they rock against his prostate which send ricochets of pleasure straight to his cock, that in tandem, hits the back of San's throat with his involuntary thrusts.
His breath is hitching in his throat with a constant flow of whines forcing their way out every time another burst of pleasure rocks through his system. "I'm so—fuck! C-Close, I can't—"
"Come on, Sangie," Wooyoung purrs. "Come for us. Show Sannie how good you taste."
It's only then does Yeosang force his eyes down at San again, only to find the man looking up at him through his brows. A pleading expression taking over his entire face, as if he's agreeing with Wooyoung's words to the best of his ability.
Wooyoung's fingers prod against his prostate at the same time his cock hits the back of San's throat once more, and it's like the winding ball in his gut finally snaps. He's crying out a string of moans when the coil of his release finally gives out and his come is spurting down San's throat—just like the man wanted. San's cheeks hollow around Yeosang's cock in an effort to drain him of every single last drop, meanwhile Yeosang finds himself grinding down against Wooyoung's fingers while he rides out the entirety of his orgasm.
At a certain point the discomfort of overstimulation begins to outweigh the immense amounts of pleasure Yeosang just experienced, and he finds himself making every effort to remove himself from the situation, but neither of the two let up just yet.
"Stop, stop—" he cries out, not actually in pain, but for the sake of his nerves being worn out from their efforts. In an instant, San pulls away from Yeosang with a lewd pop, and Wooyoung ceases any movement with his hand.
San looks up at him with worry in his eyes this time, and Yeosang weakly shakes his head. The hand he had glued to San's scalp coming down to cup the man's jaw instead. His thumb soothing over the worry lines stressing on San's face.
"Was it too much?" San asks, his tone as soft as it was before he went down on Yeosang. "We didn't mean—"
"No," Yeosang cuts him off, feeling his eyes flutter closed as his chest heaves to catch a breath. "It was—it was so good. Just at the end…"
He can feel San melt against his hand for a moment, before he feels the softest press of the man's lips against his palm. A new found warmth spreads through Yeosang over the act of affection.
They sit there in a bout of silence as Yeosang recovers in the time being. Working on slowing down his erratic heart rate after how restless he grew towards the end of it.
The mattress and bed frame creak, and Yeosang feels a sudden shift in weight from where San had been laying so he opens his eyes to discover the man making his way up towards the headboard where he and Wooyoung are sitting. There's nothing suggestive about his movements at all, but it still stirs the sediment that had settled in Yeosang's chest. Especially when San finally seats himself beside Yeosang and takes his hand between his own.
"San-ah," Yeosang says softly. "Did you get your answer?"
It's vague, but somehow, Wooyoung picks up on what he means right away and struggles to fight back the bout of laughter. While San might not notice, Yeosang can feel the way Wooyoung shakes underneath of him from stifling back a boisterous laugh. But poor San hasn't the slightest clue what the question even means.
Not until it suddenly clicks and he's looking down bashfully, an earnest grin on his lips. He picks his head up and leans in to where he's barely a hairs breath away from Yeosang—eyes darting from Yeosang's own, down to his lips. "Mhm, I sure did."
And San is the one to lean in this time, capturing Yeosang's lips between his own in a sweet and innocently chaste kiss. One that Yeosang has always imagined what it would be like to experience—especially with either of the two—and now is battling the fit of butterflies fluttering within his chest. He can taste himself, and a bit of the cherry-flavored lubricant—somehow—on San's lips and he relishes in it. But he doesn't miss it either when San reels back and stares at him with the same expression he's seen the man cast towards Wooyoung.
Just like that night this perverse interest of his most likely first bloomed.
"Yah, no fair," Wooyoung says in a pouty-lipped tone from behind them, and Yeosang turns his head to glance at the other. "You've kissed him so much already—haven't you heard of sharing?"
Meanwhile, Wooyoung's fingers are still knuckles deep within Yeosang.
"You've already kissed him," San retorts before Yeosang can even get a chance to respond. "Long before me, might I add."
He lets them bicker back and forth over his head for a moment. Allowing himself this brief intermission to prepare himself for what he's been begging for a majority of the night. Even though he's put himself through the wringer before in regards to how many times he's come in one night, the last thing he wants is to give out in the middle of Wooyoung pounding into him—so he needs this little bit of recovery.
Though, it carries for a bit longer than he imagined—despite Yeosang having seen their Tom and Jerry episodes far too frequently.
Wooyoung is mid complaining about how the last time he kissed Yeosang was years ago, and he was drinking, so it hardly even counts because he was damn-near out of it to remember it as fondly as San is going to remember tonight, when Yeosang makes the executive decision to interrupt their nonsense by peeling himself off of Wooyoung's chest and sitting up. The action alone causes Wooyoung's tyrant to die on his tongue right then and there. Yeosang reaches down and wraps around Wooyoung's wrist before he slowly pulls the man's arm away from his body, holding back a gasp as his hole struggles to close around nothing after being stretched for quite some time. There's a sting as Wooyoung's fingers drag their way out, but it's practically gone the second they're entirely removed.
As best as he can, Yeosang turns himself around—all while the other two remain utterly silent during the whole ordeal. He faces them both, but moves to sit atop Wooyoung's lap, his thighs straddling the man's waist instead of the legs that are spread open to accommodate where Yeosang had been sitting just prior. Beneath of his groin, he can feel Wooyoung's swell that hadn't gone down even in the slightest—and if he purposely wiggles around a bit while he settles, that's neither here nor there.
"If you wanted to kiss me so bad, you could've just said so, Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang says once he's completely settled, and Wooyoung's hands easily found his waist right after.
He's not sure what it is, but Wooyoung only opens his mouth, unable to get his words out. The gears in his head are turning and it's audible to Yeosang and surely San too.
"I—It was kinda hard to being behind you…" Wooyoung finally gets out. Yeosang huffs out an amused breath and smiles, leaning in ever so slightly.
"I didn't mean just tonight," Yeosang confesses.
Suddenly, it clicks in Wooyoung's mind, but before he can get a response out, it's Yeosang that's leaning in and stealing the words right from the man's mouth. This time, he didn't wait for San's approval to kiss Wooyoung, and he really hopes it doesn't bite him in the ass, but he can hardly find room to properly care as their lips finally reconnect tonight.
The way their lips move against each other is so starkly different compared to the kiss they shared earlier in the night. Where Wooyoung was desperate, nearly starving to finally have another taste of Yeosang years after the first time, he's much softer in the way he matches Yeosang's affection in this moment. There's no fire or fury in his movements, either. Only the same kind of softness he felt with San just a moment ago, except he's allowing it to go much deeper. The fingertips on his waist dig into his waist as if they're making sure Yeosang doesn't flee from this so quickly.
Meanwhile, Yeosang's own hands come up and cradle either side of Wooyoung's head as the kiss continues to grow more heated by the second. Fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp from where they card through the lengthy locks. Keeping Wooyoung just as firmly in place so the man doesn't dare to think about pulling away.
Where Wooyoung seemed annoyed about not being kissed as much by Yeosang, it seems Yeosang also held that same sort of resolve in his own mind—just not realizing until Wooyoung's lips were back on his.
Though, it has to come to an end, eventually, especially when Yeosang is reminded by the fact that San is sat off to the side as if he's a cuckold.
He pulls away from Wooyoung's lips, but quickly places a chaste peck on them again when the man tries following Yeosang with his head. There's a pout on Wooyoung's expression as he admits defeat and leans back against the headboard.
"Do you still need a minute?" Wooyoung asks.
Yeosang contemplates with a soft hum before nodding. "But I don't want you two to have to sit here and wait for me."
He's coy with his words on purpose, and thankfully, Wooyoung picks up on it in a heartbeat. Despite him and San being in a relationship, Wooyoung still without a doubt considers Yeosang his soulmate, and moments like this is where it makes sense why.
In front of him, Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at the same time his hands coax up and down Yeosang's sides.
"It's okay, Yeosang-ah," San says from off to the side, and the other two turn to look at him. "We don't want to push you, so we can—"
"Oh, San-ah, you're so cute," Wooyoung cuts him off, earning a look of confusion from his boyfriend. He glances over at San, but then back at Yeosang before he elaborates. "I think our Yeosangie has something he wants us to do in the meantime. Doesn't he?"
Wooyoung's hands are persistent against his sides, even when they venture down and cup at the swell of his ass, digging his fingertips into the plushness of Yeosang's cheeks.
"Mhm," Yeosang hums in agreeance.
"Oh—" San says. Thankfully the other two are too engrossed in each other to notice the blush that sweeps across his face. "What did you want us to do, Yeosang-ah?"
His voice sounds so sweet and innocent, full of genuine curiosity. When Yeosang peels his eyes away from Wooyoung, he notices the faint hint of pink dusting across San's cheeks.
"San-ah," he starts off with, his voice smooth like honey. Sounding innocent and sweet, entirely unsuspecting of what he says next, "I wanna watch you fuck Wooyoungie."
Yeosang tugs the slightest pout onto his lips while batting his lashes as well, watching how the light pink darkens to nearly a shade of crimson across San's cheeks. It's amusing, every single bit of it. He drops one of his hands and pats it against the mattress to beckon the man closer to them. Like an obedient puppy, San crawls over on his knees and sits beside the two of them.
"What do you think, San-ah? Wanna fuck Wooyoungie while I ride him?" Bringing his free hand up, it lands at the junction of San's neck and jaw. Either of them in the palm of his hand, now.
Just like he's always wanted.
"Yes," San says, possible a little too excitedly, but Yeosang smiles at it regardless.
Yeosang turns to finally look at Wooyoung, and what his reaction might just be. Of course, he expected the other to be completely on board, for he's seen the plenty of times Wooyoung has made every desperate attempt to get San to fuck him while the other members were still around. And surely, the look on Wooyoung's face on points to signs showing compliance to Yeosang's desires.
"And you're okay with that, Wooyoung-ah?" Yeosang asks, even though he already knows the answer. Against the palm of his hand, he feels Wooyoung nod.
"Yeah—God, yes, please," Wooyoung says, his grip on Yeosang's sides tightening. His pupils are nearly blown out against his irises, as if he's high off of the thought of San fucking into him while he fucks into Yeosang alone.
None of them waste any time getting into position for the new arrangement, but Wooyoung is hesitant in letting Yeosang off of his lap. Though, the second San leans over and brings their lips together in a hungry and heated kiss, Wooyoung's hands seem to naturally fall from Yeosang's waist and gravitate towards San that's already licking into his mouth. Yeosang is barely off to the side before San is replacing his spot, fingertips surging beneath Wooyoung's waistband and tugging his sweatpants and underwear off in one effortless swoop, somehow.
It's not the first time Yeosang has seen Wooyoung naked—or even San—but in this context, it's so much different, and so much more detrimental to every part of his sanity. The moment Wooyoung's cock springs free from the confines of his clothes, it glistens towards the two of them with a sheen of precum coating the entire tip. Darkening into a deep-seated pink color from being hard for so long, despite the fact that San got him off not that long ago.
Blindly, San starts feeling around the mattress for something, but stops once his hand comes in contact with the bottle of lubricant that Wooyoung had discarded not too long ago. Yeosang is all eyes on them from the moment Wooyoung agreed, watching diligently how San doesn't spare a single ounce of attention from his boyfriend while simultaneously popping open the cap on the bottle and squeezing a bit of the lubricant onto his fingers.
"How many?" San pulls away for the faintest hair of a breath, but Wooyoung is already diving back in for more.
"Two." Wooyoung sounds beyond out of breath, as if he's already been fucked out of his mind—yet it's only from the two of them kissing. Yeosang doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing his best friend sound like that. "I prepped earlier—at practice."
The both of them—San and Yeosang—freeze upon hearing that revelation.
"If nothing happened with Yeosangie tonight, there was no way I was going to bed without you fucking me into tomorrow," Wooyoung admits.
It rolls off of his tongue with such ease that Yeosang can hardly feel the second-hand embarrassment over Wooyoung fucking himself open inside one of the bathroom stalls at the company building. The thought of it alone is enough to send a burst of adrenaline through Yeosang, sending it straight to his slowly-hardening cock.
If this is only the beginning, he'll be back on Wooyoung's lap in no time.
"Fuck, of course you did," San says before leaning back in to suck the air out from Wooyoung's lungs. In the same breath, he lines up two of his lubed-up fingers with his boyfriend's hole and pushes them in with ease.
Even with his mouth being swallowed whole by San, a squeak is still able to pass through the barrier and reach Yeosang's ears. Sitting back and watching is one thing, but being able to listen with permission is another. To be privileged enough to hear the desperate whines of Wooyoung being pleasured.
"Consider yourself lucky." San pulls back again, panting into Wooyoung's mouth as he thrusts his fingers in and out of Wooyoung's slicked-up hole with ease. "Something did happen with Yeosangie, and you still get to be fucked into tomorrow."
Wooyoung doesn't even respond with words, but noises instead. Unable to control what's coming from his throat entirely.
"You better thank him, jagi," San says in a rather harsh tone. His pace hastening, and the sound of the lubricant gliding between his fingers and Wooyoung's hole filling the room in between every other source of sound.
"Hng—thank—fuck!—" Wooyoung cries out at the same time San pulls out his two fingers entirely, and lines up a third with his next thrust in. Giving his boyfriend absolutely no warning about the sudden change—but it doesn't seem like Wooyoung minds when he dissolves into a puddle of moans instead of expressing his gratitude towards Yeosang.
In the minimal space between where San sits and where Wooyoung's ass rests, Yeosang catches a glance of the switch up and feels it travel straight to his groin when Wooyoung arches up off of the mattress in response. Right beneath where his ass was, is a damp spot soaked into Yeosang's comforter, and he nearly believes it to be from whatever lubricant San might have spilled when drizzling it over his fingers, but he's proven wrong in an instant. For he catches the slightest glimpse of San's cock, where it's curved up towards his abdomen, dripping like a faucet.
Instantaneously, he feels his mouth water, and suddenly, he understands why Wooyoung was so desperate earlier for San to fuck his mouth the way he did.
"That's not how you say thank you, baby, you know that," San says in such a condescending tone that even Yeosang feels like it's directed towards him as well. "Not gonna fuck you until you say it properly."
"Th—thank y-you—ah!—'Sangie," Wooyoung musters out a moment later, but with his eyes screwed shut in the process. "Than'you—so s-so much…"
He's completely lost to the world from San's fingers alone, and God, Yeosang wishes it were him. Is he greedy if in the back of his mind there's a thought floating around of maybe next time? Surely not.
"Of course, Wooyoung-ah." Yeosang scoots himself closer and brushes a bit of Wooyoung's sweat-soaked bangs out of the way where they cling to his forehead.
"Such a good boy," San coos, his tone switching up entirely in the blink of an eye. Of course, Wooyoung gargles out a sultry moan in response to the praise, and Yeosang can only watch the way his cock twitches from it as well. "You ready for me, now?"
Even if he wasn't—which Yeosang doesn't believe to be the case based on the way San had been effortlessly thrusting his fingers in and out of Wooyoung's compliant hole—Yeosang knows Wooyoung wouldn't be able to last another second without San inside of him, and himself inside of Yeosang.
"Please, San-ah, I need—" Wooyoung starts to say, but shuts himself up when San retracts his fingers entirely, and Wooyoung's hole clenches earnestly around nothing.
"Hm? What was that, baby?" San teases as he picks up the bottle of lubricant again and drizzles the viscous substance over the head of his cock. Taking one of his free hands and stroking it over himself and works himself up to complete fullness—even though, to Yeosang, it seemed like he was already there.
The thought in the back of his head is floating closer and closer towards the front with each stroke he watches San complete.
"Need—need you, inside me—p-please!" Wooyoung begs, practically squirming restlessly while he waits impatiently.
It's such a sight to Yeosang, seeing his best friend so riled up like this. There had always been the moments where he imagined what it was like for the other two in their more intimate nights, but he always forced those invasive thoughts away. Telling himself it's not right to imagine them in that context, especially when most times it ended in him getting himself off to the thought of them anyway.
So, now, to finally be face-to-face with it…
"Good boy," San praises as he lines himself up with Wooyoung and finally pushes past the threshold.
Birds chirping in the early light of the day, leaves on trees brushing past each other, the sound of an innocent stream trickling over rocks—those are sounds someone might easily describe as beautiful.
But to Yeosang, the sound of Wooyoung being stuffed to the brim with San's cock is what he considers most beautiful. The way his voice cracks when San first breaches, and how a steady and heavy breath filters out as he grows accustomed to the situation.
Even more than the sound, Yeosang watches how Wooyoung's facial features contort with each bit of length that occupies within him. It surely isn't the first time, but he acts as if it is, and for some reason Yeosang finds it far too attractive. That even after all of these years, getting filled up by his boyfriend wrecks him like he's a complete virgin. Wooyoung's eyebrows pinch together in a tight knot, but soon they relax when San pushes in to the hilt.
From where he's sitting off to the side, Yeosang can feel himself hardening up over every single aspect unfolding before him. This is his most perverse, wettest dream come to life, and his body is going through Hell and back trying to stay sane. A part of his chest grows as heavy as it did back in the practice room earlier in the night, but now that he knows they want him to watch this, it doesn't feel as detrimental. Instead of the fear weighing him down, it's the lust alone that settles.
San keeps himself stilled for a moment, eyeing how Wooyoung is holding up. He brings a hand up to Wooyoung's face, and much like earlier, his thumb brushes across the soft surface of his boyfriend's face. Instead of only Wooyoung melting into the touch this time, Yeosang can see how San visibly softens as well. Both of their features mirror each other, as if they're one in this moment. The heaviness in Yeosang's chest cements over it, but he pushes aside the discomfort.
"'M good," Wooyoung pants, nuzzling his head further into San's touch.
It doesn't take more from him for San to finally start the show, pulling out as slow as he pushed in initially, and thrusting back in with the same level of care.
Yeosang watches them intently, as if he's in his own living room watching a drama with Yunho. Finding himself beyond invested in every single detail that spills between the two men. How San still holds Wooyoung's face, while his other hand grips firmly on the man's hip to keep himself steady. How Wooyoung loses control of all of his facial features as San's cock drags itself along the inside of his walls, already being reduced to nothing but a puddle of pleasure.
A part of it is like an art, but still, Yeosang finds himself reacting well to the performance. Every thrust in and out is another spark that aids in kindling the fire within his gut. As well as the breathy moans coming from Wooyoung as he loses himself to San's movements.
"How does he feel?" Yeosang finds himself asking, but it's not directed towards anyone in particular. They both look over at him with completely different expressions.
"So good," Wooyoung responds first, his words slurring off of his tongue. "Feels so good, 'Sangie."
And of course he believes his best friend, even if he himself has no way of knowing if he's saying it just to say it, but Yeosang can't imagine Wooyoung would lie about this. And if he is, then consider him the world's greatest actor.
With San still turned to him, Yeosang's eyes dart over with expectancy.
"He's so—fuck—so tight, 'Sangie…" San says through a near grit of his teeth. His eyebrows are pinching together with every thrust, but showing clear signs of enjoyment, as opposed to struggling.
"Still?" Yeosang asks. "You've fucked him probably hundreds of times and it still feels like the first time, doesn't it?"
It comes out before he can even process it, but his mind is so far past the ability of being cohesive at this point in the night. With the arousal swirling around his gut again, all Yeosang can think about is how badly he wishes he was in Wooyoung's position, even if it's best friend that's going to be filling him up soon.
A whimper comes from Wooyoung over Yeosang's question, even if it wasn't directed to him.
"Fuck—" San curses under his breath and begins to pick up the pace.
"It's good, though," Yeosang continues. He finds himself slowly inching closer and closer to the two in front of him, enjoying the sensation his half-hardening cock feels as it brushes over the comforter beneath him. Stifling back the whimper brewing in his chest. "If he wasn't tight, you wouldn't feel good, San-ah… I don't think Wooyoungie could live with himself if that was the case."
His words are clearly affecting the both of them, and it's addicting. How even though San is balls deep in his boyfriend, the words coming from Yeosang are helping him grow more worked up by the second.
"But… Maybe Wooyoungie would like it too if he became useless, and you scolded him for it," Yeosang confesses. He turns to look at Wooyoung who's eyes are half-lidded, flickering between him and San. "We know how much he likes being disciplined, too. He'd probably be just as hard from you unable to fuck into his loosened hole, getting worked up from whatever harsh words you use."
His eyes can't help but travel to Wooyoung's cock that bounces with every time San pounds into him, watching how it goes untouched, begging to be touched properly tonight.
So, Yeosang reaches out and wraps his hand around it.
The noise that comes from Wooyoung is unlike anything Yeosang has heard so far, and it only sends him further spiraling the longer he goes without throwing himself on top of the man. He strokes his hand up and down Wooyoung carefully, making sure to gather as much of the precum that's beading at his tip before spreading it down the rest of his shaft for a smoother glide.
"But it's not like it'd be his fault, San-ah," Yeosang speaks up again. His eyes are heavily concentrated on Wooyoung, but for a fraction of a second, he turns to look at San. Batting his lashes with his next words. "Your cock would stretch him out eventually—fuck, it would stretch anyone out eventually. Even me."
He watches the way San loses whatever bit of composure he is clinging on to, his face completely crumbling with Yeosang's words.
"You'd want that, wouldn't you, San-ah?" Yeosang asks, picking up the speed at which he flicks his wrist on and around Wooyoung. Every whimper that escapes through his lips truly is like music to his ears and he feels it go straight to his own cock. "To have me cry on your cock like Wooyoungie is right now."
"Y-Yeosang…" San stutters out, not looking away from him for even a second.
"Instead, you have to watch Wooyoungie fuck me good, but you'll still enjoy it, won't you?" He's right up against them at this point, damn near ready to bring his leg up and over Wooyoung's waist to line himself up and sink down. "Only you know how long he's been waiting for this, so you wouldn't dare take it from him, even if you want it just as badly."
San is a mess in front of him, whimpering just as badly as Wooyoung has been all night. He nods excessively as if he's unable to get the words out himself to agree with Yeosang.
"'Sangie—please," Wooyoung speaks up, stealing Yeosang's attention away from San. It's only then he looks down and notices the man's hand wrapped around his own, stopping him from jerking him off any further.
Oh.
"Fuck," Yeosang curses.
"Don't wanna come yet, need—need you, 'Sangie," Wooyoung cries out. Even though Yeosang's movement have halted, San's haven't. If Wooyoung hadn't intervened, there's a good chance he would have spilled over Yeosang's hand in a matter of seconds.
"Need you too, Wooyoung-ah, fuck, need you so bad," Yeosang says, surging forward and capturing his best friend's lips with his own.
He feels Wooyoung melt into the kiss despite being tensed up in every way possible. His muscles relaxing beneath Yeosang's gentle hands that spend their time trailing all over the man's body.
It's like every part of him is moving on its own, because before he knows its, Yeosang has himself thrown over Wooyoung's waist and can feel the tip of the man's cock brush against his own in passing. They gasp into each other's mouths simultaneously, losing whatever bit of momentum they had.
All of it happens so quick—from San taking the liberty of dousing Wooyoung's cock in a copious amount of lube, Wooyoung lining himself up Yeosang, and Yeosang finally sinking down on the man.
It had been so long since the last time he got fucked, or even fucked himself open with a toy in similar size, but the burning stretch feels divine against his walls. Nothing like how Wooyoung's fingers had felt, that's for sure. But he's practically split open in two by the time his ass comes in contact with Wooyoung's groin. All of his muscles going slack, along with his jaw, during the process.
"Shit, you feel s-so good, 'Sangie," Wooyoung groans as Yeosang stays still atop of him.
He can't get himself to respond just yet, but he feels several hands on him that ground him in an instant. One on his waist, another on his thigh, and one on each of his shoulders. What catches him off guard entirely is the pair of lips that press a dainty, feather-like kiss to the nape of his neck. When he cranes his neck to see, San is already turning to meet Yeosang face-to-face.
"Take your time, baby," San says oh-so softly, and Yeosang is convinced he's going to melt. It's only then he recognizes San's hands as the ones on his shoulder and waist. "I won't move until you're ready."
Even though Wooyoung is the one in him, Yeosang is able to recognize the fact that if San thrust into Wooyoung, it'd be affecting Yeosang as well. He nods in confirmation and leans his head back out of instinct, and San takes it as an opportunity to latch his lips onto the skin before him. Leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses against Yeosang's neck in the meantime.
Between the soft touches from the both of them, and San kissing down his neck, Yeosang finds the thought planting firmly in his mind that he never wants this night to end.
He doesn't want to go back to the life where he works twenty-four-seven and comes home to his lonely bed, whereas the other two have each other. After experiencing this little night in a paradise he never imagined for himself, it'll be hard to part from it in just a bit.
But he shouldn't think like that, not now.
"I'm okay," he breathes out.
San presses one last kiss in the junction of where his neck and shoulders meet. From beneath him, Wooyoung glances up at him with an expected breath heavy in his lungs, waiting for Yeosang to make the first move.
The moment he picks himself up and drops back down, Yeosang finds himself exhaling with the release of a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. The drag of Wooyoung's cock against his walls is sharp like an electrical current coursing through his entire body, but it doesn't deter him from repeating the movement. He keeps himself in a slow, yet steady pace. From behind, he can feel San starting to rock back in and out of Wooyoung as well.
"Oh—oh, fuck," Wooyoung curses. His eyes screw shut from the double stimulation, but his hands remain persistent on Yeosang. The hand that had laid on his shoulder has since dropped down to the opposite side of his waist where any of San's hands are absent. The other hand placed on his thigh slips up and lands atop of San's hand—together they hold Yeosang in place.
"I'm not—I don't think I'll last, I—" Wooyoung starts to say, but Yeosang leans forward and shuts him up with a kiss.
He continues his own pace, though, while he lazily licks into Wooyoung's mouth. Chasing every soft moan and whimper that bleeds off the man's tongue and on to his own. Savoring them and devouring them whole.
"God, the two of you…" San says from behind where he fucks relentlessly into Wooyoung's hole, shaking the two of them with each thrust inwards. "You take him so well, Yeosang-ah, fuck."
"Mhm, 'Sangie, you do. You should—ah, ah—see yourself—!" Wooyoung tries to get out in one piece, but with how close he seems already, there's no point in coherency.
He doesn't know what to say in response, feeling far too bashful in the moment to find anything in his thoughts. Only noticing the way every single one of his senses is absorbed by the two men around him.
When this night first started between the three of them, he didn't expect it to end with them actually having sex—no. Not for a long shot. He just assumed it wouldn't get that far, even if it was their intention from the get-go.
A part of it doesn't feel real, even though every time Yeosang grinds back down against Wooyoung, he feels the tip of his best friend's cock brush against his prostate, sending a new wave of pleasure he hasn't experienced in quite some time. The burning fire in his gut increasing with the amount of oxygen he inhales. He's convinced once he wakes up in the morning—even with the fresh memories, and lingering pain as evidence—it'll feel like a fever dream at best, as opposed to one of his wildest dreams becoming a reality.
For a minute, the only sounds in the rooms are their sultry, exasperated breaths, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It feels filthy, and the thought of anyone hearing it ruins Yeosang's mentality. If Yunho were to come home, which he shouldn't, he'd hear and assume that Yeosang is hooking up with someone after an eternity—but given that he went home with San and Wooyoung from practice, he would assume the man would put two and two together.
The thought of it alone spurs him along even more and sends a whimper barreling out from his throat at the same moment Wooyoung's cock presses against him even more firmly than before. He grinds down and allows it to settle against the spot, finding himself nearly drooling over the sensation. His own cock beneath him is leaking profusely on to Wooyoung's abdomen, creating a puddle of precum.
"F-Fuck, 'Sangie—!" Wooyoung cries out as Yeosang continues to grind down. "Don't stop, shit, I'm—"
Before he knows it, Yeosang feels the sudden rush of Wooyoung's hot release filling every crevice within him. He feels the man squirm from beneath him, sending his cock to further abuse his prostate. Meeting him tit for tat in his own efforts.
The winding ball in his gut had been building so agonizingly slow, that it catches him off guard when he finds himself coming untouched right after Wooyoung. Crying out a string of expletives as a hand reaches around him and milks him through the sudden orgasm. The touch is far too dry and overstimulating, but he doesn't dare bat the hand away, not when it adds fuel to the fire that erupted in a matter of seconds. Going from nothing to a full-blown wildfire.
He struggles with keeping himself upright, until San's hands land taut across his chest and abdomen and press Yeosang back against him. It shocks him, the sudden change in his posture, but he realizes from Wooyoung's whimpering and whining below, that San is close and pulled Yeosang in while he buries himself deep within his boyfriend. The hot breath fanning across his neck and collarbones has him reeling as San chases his own release.
Seconds later, he feels San's grip tighten across his pec, groping with intent to keep him sturdy while he rocks through the wave that washes over him. It's overwhelming until it isn't, and San's movements finally come to a halt.
The three of them are nothing but breathless afterwards, clinging to one another in ways someone might struggle to find where any of them begin, and the others end.
"You okay, baby?" San asks against the side of Yeosang's neck. His hands have dropped and caress Yeosang's sides, fingertips trailing carefully across his skin, eliciting a shiver to traverse through his body.
"Mhm," Yeosang hums and nods, allowing himself to melt against San while he catches his breath.
Wooyoung manages his best and sits up, bringing him directly in front of the other two. He's too short in this position to reach Yeosang's lips, so he settles for leaving soft kisses against the man's torso instead. Littering the skin before him with kisses that glisten underneath the lighting in Yeosang's bedroom.
"You did so good, Yeosang-ah, so good," Wooyoung whispers against his friend's chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his lips. Knowing it's beating for him and San in this moment, and no one else.
"We need to get cleaned up," San says, sounding ever so disappointed by his own suggestion.
The thought of separating from them sounds like Hell, and it has nothing to do with the pain that'll appear the moment he makes an effort to stand, but everything to do with where his emotions now lay.
He couldn't dare voice that outl oud, though.
"Don't wanna," he says instead. "Too tired…"
A chuckle comes from behind and in front of him, causing him to only pout. He already bathed earlier in the night, but the other man is right. They're all far too sticky from a combination of sweat and cum that's practically engrained into their pores.
"C'mon, 'Sang-ah." San tries to make himself convincing, yet his tone is everything but.
Unfortunately, Yeosang doesn't win the battle.
He allows himself to be peeled off of Wooyoung and collapses on to the bed while San and Wooyoung get themselves situated. There's only one bathroom in his dorm, but somehow, the three of them pile into the already cramped shower. All taking turns washing each other diligently and with utmost care.
Yeosang never enjoyed this part, but with them, it's different.
Where most times, if he hooked up with someone, he cleaned himself up enough and then vacated the other person's place before they could say anything, properly showering once he got back home. But tonight, with the three of them taking turns under the scalding hot shower stream, there's soft giggles and touches and kisses shared as well. Nothing but complete adoration sprinkled in with the water that splashes against them.
By the time they make it back to Yeosang's bedroom, it's well into the next day already, and his muscles are aching with exhaustion in more ways than none. From having practice earlier in the day, to their activities in the evening, Yeosang is properly worn out, and in need of a well-deserved sleep.
He's half expecting San and Wooyoung to get dressed and return back to their respective dorms, but instead, they climb beneath Yeosang's sheets on either side of him, cuddling up to his sides as if this is a situation they always find themselves in.
"You guys don't have to stay with me," Yeosang says without thinking. The words slip past his filter without much effort and sound into the room before he can even process it.
They don't say anything right away, only clinging tighter to him a bit more firmly than they were previously. San's fingers find themself toying with the collar of Yeosang's shirt, and Wooyoung's hand sprawls out across Yeosang's belly.
"We wanna be here with you, Yeosang." San is the first to speak up, his voice barely above a whisper. And if Yeosang were fully present, he'd almost recognize the hurt disguised in San's tone.
"Unless you don't want us here…?" Wooyoung says, just as softly.
Oh.
They've got this all wrong…
"No, of course I do, I just—"
He doesn't know how to explain this given his current state of exhaustion. Even with it, there lays the layer of vulnerability he has to burst through before they read his words entirely wrong and truly end up leaving.
A sigh breaks free from his lungs.
"I don't want you to go," Yeosang lands on saying. Laying it directly on the table for them to see.
"Then we won't," Wooyoung says right after. He buries his head against Yeosang's shoulder and sniffs at his freshly washed skin. Where his best friend's breath fans across his collarbones is warm and offers as much comfort as it possibly could—even without knowing.
On his other side, San burrows further beneath the comforter as well, clinging to Yeosang as if his life depends on it. He throws a leg up and over Yeosang's hip, but it doesn't make any advances. Purely just for comfort—nothing else.
"I don't—" Yeosang starts, but his words die on his tongue. He knows they're listening to him, but he doesn't know how else to continue without sounding pathetic and even possibly embarrassing himself in the end. "I mean, I don't want you to go, even after tonight…"
"What do you mean, Yeosang-ah?" San asks, his tone sounding slurred with the premise of sleep on the horizon.
They shouldn't be having this conversation—at least right now.
They're all far too exhausted, and Yeosang is worried he won't get the right words out, but it's far too late. Even if he tried to back out of it, Wooyoung would reel him back in and make him speak his mind regardless of how tired they all are.
"There's a reason why I was watching you two, and why I made out with Wooyoung-ah when were drunk, and why I watched San that one time. There's a reason for all of it, but I—I never wanted to talk about it, and now…" Yeosang trails off, unable to keep his train of thought going for longer without ending up rambling and making a fool of himself.
"Mhm," San hums. "And why's that, baby?"
As soon as the pet name leaves San's lips, Yeosang finds himself growing far too warm beneath the blanket and with either of the men beside him.
He can't get himself to respond, even though the confirmation is practically in front of them all. He's not an idiot, but admitting it aloud is far too much, and it could still backfire.
"There's a reason we did all of this in the first place, and it wasn't just because we wanted to fuck you, Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung speaks up. Pulling himself up from the mattress and leaning slightly over Yeosang.
From his other side, Yeosang can feel San nod against his shoulder. "Mhm, he's right, 'Sangie."
A hand lands on his face, and Wooyoung's thumb caresses his round and soft cheek.
"I've had feelings for you since way before that night, and I thought you felt the same, but when you never brought it up again, I thought that was my confirmation," Wooyoung confesses.
It hits him like a ton of bricks against his chest. There's no way…
"But what about—" Yeosang starts, but he's cut off by San.
"I did leave my door open on purpose," San admits, his tone still sounding deep with a yearning of sleep to whisk him away. How he's still fully lucid is beyond Yeosang, but he listens anyway. "I knew you would come home early—you always did with group meals like that—and I wanted you to see me, 'Sang-ah… But you didn't say anything, so… Yeah."
Yeosang freezes right where he's laying, unable to decipher what the next best course of action is.
They both… have feelings for him? This is unprecedented territory, and truly, he doesn't know how to proceed.
"I can hear you thinking, 'Sangie…" Wooyoung pesters. He turns Yeosang's compliant head to face him. Even if the room is nearly pitch black, Yeosang can still see the twinkling of the moonlight reflecting off of Wooyoung's eyes.
"I'm not—"
"You are, and that's okay, baby," San says. His cheek his completely squished against Yeosang's shoulder, words sounding as if he's beyond drunk. Yeosang is honestly impressed by how clear his mind is despite every other physically implication that he's moments away from passing out.
Yeosang huffs but doesn't bother defending himself.
"For every reason you have, we have one too," Wooyoung says and leans in to place a chaste kiss against Yeosang's forehead. He moves to lay back down beside his best friend, snuggling up to his side like he was a moment before. "But, it's late, and I think we're all exhausted—for good reason."
A grumbled hum comes from San, presumably in agreeance.
"We'll talk in the morning, okay?" Wooyoung promises, and Yeosang verbalizes a faint yes in response.
It seems so far—the morning time—but Yeosang knows it'll be there in the blink of an eye. He'll awake to the same two on either side of him, and to the promise of a conversation that goes further in depth than what they attempted tonight. But first, he has to close his eyes in order to reach that time, even if it means having to accept the best night of his life is over.
Though, now, he knows this won't be the end like he feared it would be—and there's even more to come afterwards.