Work Text:
China had always been the quiet center of gravity between the two of them.
North Korea arrived uninvited on a humid summer evening, the air thick with the smell of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. He didn’t knock. He simply walked into the courtyard of China’s house as if the walls had always belonged to him, black coat still on, boots tracking dirt across the stone. South Korea was already there—sitting on the low wooden porch with his legs pulled up, phone in hand, the soft blue light painting his face. The second North stepped into view, South’s shoulders went rigid.
China looked up from the tea he was pouring. His expression didn’t change much. It never did. He just set the pot down and said, mild as ever,
“You’re late yknow.”
North’s mouth curled like the devious cunt he was. “Didn’t know I was expected.”
South didn’t speak. He just watched the way China’s gaze lingered on North a fraction too long—on the sharp line of his jaw, the pale throat above the high collar, the way North’s dark eyes never softened for anyone except, apparently, the man pouring tea.
That was the first night.
By the third night North was still there. He had claimed the guest room without asking. He sat too close at the low table. He spoke in that low, clipped voice that made China’s eyelids lower just slightly, the way they did when something interested him. South started staying later. Then he started staying the night. The spare futon appeared in the main room. Neither of them acknowledged it out loud.
South tried first.
He waited until North had gone to shower. China was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, washing the dinner dishes. South stepped up behind him, chest almost brushing China’s back, and rested his chin on the older nation’s shoulder.
“Gege,” he murmured, the old endearment soft and deliberate. His hands slid around China’s waist, fingers spreading over the flat plane of his stomach. “You’ve been ignoring me.”
China rinsed a bowl. “Have I.” (bro does not gaf)
South’s mouth found the side of his neck. He kissed there, slow, then opened his lips and sucked gently, tasting clean skin and faint tea. One hand drifted lower, cupping over the front of China’s soft pants. He was already half-hard. South made a small, pleased sound and pressed closer, grinding the soft mound between his own legs against China’s ass.
“I missed youuuuu,” South whispered. “Every time he’s in the room you look at him like-”
China turned. Not sharply, but enough that South had to step back.
“You are both very loud when you think I am not listening.”
South’s face burned. He didn’t stop. He sank to his knees right there on the kitchen tiles, tugged China’s pants down just enough, and took the half-hard cock into his mouth. He was good at this—had always been good at this for China. Wet heat, careful tongue, the soft press of his throat when he pushed deeper. He looked up through his lashes, cheeks hollowing, one hand slipping between his own thighs to rub over the soft, slick folds of his cunt through the thin fabric of his shorts.
China let him. He rested a hand in South’s hair, not guiding, just holding. His breathing stayed even for a long time. Then it roughened. His hips rolled once, twice, fucking shallowly into South’s mouth while South moaned around him and rubbed himself harder, the fabric under his fingers growing damp.
North’s voice came from the doorway.
“Slut- i mean how nice”
South froze. China didn’t. He finished with a quiet exhale, spilling across South’s tongue, and only then looked over at his other guest. North leaned against the frame, hair still wet from the shower, wearing nothing but a loose black shirt that hung open. His eyes were cold and hungry at once.
South wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, face burning hotter. He stood. North’s gaze dropped to the obvious wet spot on the front of South’s shorts and stayed there.
China sighed, like a divorced mom when she gets her kids taken away
“Both of you. Bedroom. Now.”
They went without much complain..
The futon was already spread. China sat on the edge of it and looked at them the way he looked at maps—patient, assessing, faintly annoyed that the borders kept shifting.
“You have been competing,” he said. “It is tedious. Take your clothes off.”
South stripped first, quick and flushed. His smooth cunt, already glistening. North moved slower. The black shirt fell. He was leaner, sharper, the soft lips of his own cunt flushed dark between his thighs. No cock at all believe it or not—just a smooth, pretty slit and the pale curve of his hips.
China’s gaze moved between them. Something in his expression finally shifted.
“On the bed. Facing each other.”
They obeyed. Knees on the futon, facing one another, close enough that their thighs almost touched. China moved behind South first. He pushed two fingers into South’s cunt without preamble—slick, easy, South already soaked from earlier. South gasped and rocked back onto them. China fucked him like that for a minute, slow and deep, thumb circling his clit, until South was trembling and dripping down his wrist.
Then China pulled free and reached for North.
North’s cunt was tighter, hotter. He made a low sound when China pushed inside, hips jerking. China worked him open the same way—two fingers, then three, curling, watching the way North’s expression cracked open into something raw. South watched too, breathing hard, one hand between his own legs rubbing circles over his clit.
China withdrew again. He wiped his hand on the sheet, then looked at both of them.
“You want my attention so badly. Then share it.”
He lay back against the pillows and crooked two fingers.
“Come here. Both of you. On my cock.”
South moved first, straddling China’s hips, sinking down onto the thick length with a broken moan. He was so wet it took almost nothing. He started riding immediately—short, desperate rolls of his hips, hands braced on China’s chest. North watched for a moment, jaw tight, then climbed up as well. China pulled him forward until North was kneeling over his face.
“Sit,” China said against his thigh.
North lowered himself. China’s mouth opened under him, tongue dragging slow and filthy through the folds of his cunt. North’s head dropped back. A sound tore out of him—half growl, half whimper. China licked deeper, sucking at his clit, fucking him with his tongue while South rode his cock like he was trying to burn the memory of North out of the room.
It didn’t work because why would anything work the way South wants it to.
South’s rhythm faltered every time North made a noise. He watched China’s mouth working between North’s legs, watched the way North’s thighs trembled, and something ugly and hot twisted in his stomach. He leaned forward and kissed North hard—clumsy, angry, teeth scraping. North kissed back the same way. Their mouths stayed locked while South fucked himself on China’s cock and North ground down against China’s tongue.
China’s hands settled on both of them—one gripping South’s hip to guide the pace, the other spreading North open wider so he could suck harder. The wet sounds filled the room. South came first, sudden and sharp, cunt clenching hard around China as he cried out into North’s mouth. He kept moving through it, oversensitive and shaking, until China pushed him off.
North was next.
China flipped him onto his back without ceremony and sank into him in one long thrust. North’s back arched. His cunt stretched around the thick cock, slick and clenching. South crawled closer, still panting, and lowered his mouth to North’s clit while China fucked him. He licked in messy, jealous strokes, tasting China and North together. North’s hand tangled in his hair—not gentle.
China fucked North hard. Deep, steady strokes that made the futon creak. South kept his mouth on him the whole time, sucking and licking until North came with a broken sound, thighs locking around South’s head, cunt pulsing around China’s cock. China didn’t stop. He kept thrusting through it, chasing his own release, until he buried himself deep and came with a low, rough exhale, filling North in thick pulses.
They stayed like that for a moment—breathing, tangled, the air heavy with sex and sweat.
China pulled out slowly. Cum slipped from North’s cunt in a slow trickle. South stared at it, then leaned down and licked it up without being asked—tongue dragging through the mess, cleaning North’s soft folds while North watched him with dark, unreadable eyes.
China sat back against the headboard, still half-hard, and looked at the two of them.
“Again,” he said quietly. “This time you will both stay still while I decide who gets what.”
South’s breath hitched. North’s mouth curved, sharp and satisfied.
They didn’t argue for once.
China took his time.
He put South on his back and ate him out until South was sobbing and coming on his tongue, then flipped him over and fucked him face-down into the futon, slow and deep, one hand pinned at the small of his back. He made North watch. Then he pulled North into his lap, back to chest, and held him open while he worked three fingers into his already-used cunt, scissoring, stretching, until North was shaking and dripping down his wrist. He made South watch that too.
When he finally put them both on their hands and knees side by side, he fucked them in turns—three strokes in South, three in North, then back again—until both of them were reduced to wet, desperate sounds and the futon was ruined. He came in South the second time, then pulled out and pushed the mess into North with his fingers, making South clean it again with his tongue.
By the time the sky outside began to lighten, both of them were marked and used and quiet.
China sat between them, one hand resting on South’s hip, the other carding slowly through North’s hair. His expression was calm again. Almost soft.
“Next time,” he said, voice low, “you do not need to fight for it. You only need to ask.”
But why would they do that eh hah im so funny.. totally.. kms ig..