Work Text:
There is something so delectably awful about being made to wait.
Goosebumps rise up all over Soobin's naked skin, and he shudders when he breathes in, shifting his position on his knees. Anticipation is a heavy, heady thing, and it drapes itself all around him like sheer, silken fabric, made worse by the fact that everything is impossibly dark. The blindfold over his eyes keeps him from seeing anything at all, as well as heightening every other sense he has. Every little sound has him flinching, gasping, an act that is humiliating whenever he realizes it's nothing after all.
He's been waiting for maybe fifteen minutes, here in his room, kneeling on his own bed. They'd told him to wait, to be good, and Soobin wants to, but it's hard. So hard, his skin tingling and his fingers tangling in the sheets, restless and impatient. Still, he doesn't do anything foolish like touching himself. He knows better, is better than that. They'd told him to wait, so he will, even if he doesn't understand why they had to leave him like this in the first place.
Part of the game, some little thing in the back of his head suggests. That's probably it. A way to get him to sink into need faster, get him foggy and dumb before they even start. Soobin is already feeling it now, and it makes him want to cry, how unfair it is, how hot. How waiting makes him simultaneously want to squirm and stay perfectly still to demonstrate his obedience.
The door creaks open, the sound filling Soobin's ears, and a low whine slips past his lips, unbidden. Someone snorts softly–more footsteps padding into the room. Soobin trembles, fingers kneading at the sheets. How many of them are here? All, or only some? Will they take turns, or will they make it harder than that?
He wants it all, wants it like he needs to breathe. Any and all of it, no matter how impossible it makes things. No matter how much it sets him up to fail.
Someone gets close to him, close enough to grip Soobin's chin between their fingers and tilt it up. Soobin blinks behind the blindfold, complying easily, and his head spins as he tries to figure it out. The touch is rough, biting–Beomgyu? Beomgyu likes to be mean like that… But he doesn't know yet. They could be trying to trick him, trip him up. He needs to focus.
It's a task made almost impossibly hard when a thumb passes over his lips, pressing into the seam until Soobin parts them to let it in, sucking in a quiet breath. It presses down on his tongue, and Soobin's focus is immediately shattered in favor of melting into a puddle, saliva building in his mouth. He whines again, shaking harder, every touch intensified.
It could just as easily be Kai–he likes to play with Soobin's mouth the most, but Kai has had him first so often lately that Soobin is tempted to rule him out. The thumb slips out of his mouth, wiping spit against Soobin's cheek, and he shivers when it cools, panting.
It's so quiet, and Soobin waits, waits in it. Waits for the other shoe to drop. It comes in the form of a hand against his chest, pushing so forcefully that Soobin loses his balance, flopping gracelessly onto his back, a yelp of surprise leaving him as his stomach swoops. Then those fingers are on him again, pinching and groping, rubbing over his nipples until Soobin is pressing into the touch, panting needily.
“Please,” he gasps, mouth still wet with spit. “Please–ah, please?”
He doesn't even know who he's pleading with, and his skin runs hot with shame. He needs more, needs more to be able to figure it out, to be able to follow the rules and guess. Rough fingers tug at the swollen nubs of his nipples and Soobin keens, unable to help himself, head turning to the side and hands floundering for nothing.
He can feel whoever it is climbing on top of him, hovering over him, the warmth of their body so close to his. Another ruthless tug, and a sob tears out of his throat, chest arching into the touch in an attempt to ease the sting. He's aching, unbearably hard, the weight of his cock heavy against his own stomach.
“‘S not, not,” he chokes out weakly, groaning when the fingers on his nipples twist meanly. “Not fair, not–”
He's trying so hard, but his thoughts are impossible to hold onto, slipping through his grasp like melting ice cream. He hears a huff of breath, quiet, soundless laughter, and a nail digs into his chest, hard enough to make him cry out and jolt, hips bucking.
“B-Beomgyu!” He gasps, giving up and going with his first guess. “Beomgyu, Beomgyu.”
“...Oh?” Relief soaks him through at the sound of Beomgyu's voice, both amused and pouty at once. “That's no fun, hyung. I was having a nice time playing with you. Shouldn't you let me finish?”
Soobin's lungs heave for air, and he whimpers when Beomgyu's hands leave his chest to instead find his hips, gripping hard.
“You looked so cute like that,” he coos, condescension dripping from every word. Soobin shrinks inward beneath him, feeling small and pathetic. “So needy. Practically begging for me to fuck you when you didn't even know who I was. Our little whore.”
“Please,” Soobin gasps, head lolling against the sheets. His hands paw blindly at Beomgyu, cock twitching against his navel. “Gyu-yah, please. I guessed, I guessed, please.”
“Aww,” Beomgyu says, voice saccharine. “Baby hyung wants his reward? You think one right answer is enough to deserve it?”
A wrecked, broken whine. Soobin is already so deep in that sweet haze, but it isn't enough.
“Won't, won't come,” he promises, as if he has any say in the matter. “‘S the rules, I'm–‘m good, ‘m following the rules.”
“That's right.” Beomgyu shifts over him, and Soobin hiccups as he relocates, spreading Soobin's legs and settling between them. “You don't get to come unless you get all the answers right. Think you can do it, hyung?”
He doesn't know. He already feels so stupid, shaking with need, hole clenching around the thick plug they’d opened him up for before leaving, his stomach sticky with precome. Even so, he nods, determination setting back in.
“Green,” he adds, when Beomgyu makes no move to continue. Beomgyu pinches his hip, then works the plug out of him. Soobin whines plaintively at the emptiness, even though it’s what he asked for. He feels like he might really start crying when all Beomgyu does is slide the lube-slick head of his cock over Soobin’s hole without pushing in. Back and forth, good but not good enough. Tears are already beginning to prick at his eyes beneath the blindfold, but Soobin stubbornly blinks them back. “Please,” he breathes, and then Beomgyu is laughing, pushing in just slow enough that Soobin can really feel the drag of it.
He gulps in ragged gasps of air, hands reaching blindly until they settle on Beomgyu’s arms, gripping onto his biceps as he drives forward until their hips meet.
“‘S good,” Soobin says dumbly, clenching down just to feel the heavy heat of Beomgyu filling him up. His mouth drops open around a desperate pant when Beomgyu shifts inside him, settling back on his knees.
“Is it?” Beomgyu goads. “Or are you just easy, hyung? I haven't even moved yet.”
Soobin shakes his head sloppily, whimpering.
“Feels good,” he says, insistent. Clenches down again around the girth of Beomgyu's cock, feels the way it carves him open. “Feels–full.”
Beomgyu hums.
“I don't know,” he says, pulls out slowly, almost all the way, just the tip inside. Soobin's jaw tightens as he bites down around a pathetic plea. “I think you are easy. Look at you, you're dripping all over the place.”
Nevermind the fact that Soobin physically can't look at himself with the blindfold over his eyes–Beomgyu's words still make him shake with a sob, because Soobin knows he's right. He can feel himself, feel the sticky pool of precome building on his skin as he leaks an embarrassing amount just from this. Just from Beomgyu's teasing, the way he threatens to pull out without saying anything at all.
“Isn't that right?” A thin, fraying thread inside Soobin snaps, and he nods, and nods, and nods, making a series of choked sounds that are too incoherent to be words. “Say it, hyung. Tell me what you are.”
Embarrassment gives way to a deep, urgent need, Soobin's hips kicking until Beomgyu holds them still.
“E-Easy,” Soobin says, and Beomgyu rewards him by pushing back in, still slow enough to be torturous, to prompt him to say more. And say more, he does. “I'm–I'm easy, I'm a–fuck, Gyu-yah–I'm a whore.”
Beomgyu laughs again, but he picks up the pace, sinking into a rhythm that punches the breath out of Soobin's throat every time he buries himself deep inside. His hands fall away from Beomgyu's arms to instead grip onto the sheets.
“Whose whore, hyung? Hm?”
Soobin doesn't answer straight away, unable to, gasping around a series of broken moans. Beomgyu threads a hand into his hair and pulls, and Soobin chokes out another sob.
“H–ah, yours, please–I'm–” Any dignity he had left is draining away rapidly. Beomgyu fucks it out of him until he can't think about anything but this, being good, using his words when he's asked to. “I'm your whore, I– please.”
“Please,” Beomgyu mocks, and Soobin sobs again. “Do you even hear yourself? You know the rules. What are you asking for when you know you're not allowed to come?”
Sloppily, Soobin lifts his legs, locking them around Beomgyu and trying to pull him closer.
“Inside,” he says, shuddering when Beomgyu snaps his hips harder. It feels too good, his dick is throbbing where it lays untouched on his belly, dribbling a sticky mess and twitching every time Beomgyu brushes against his prostate. “Please–inside, Gyu-yah, come inside.”
Panic bubbles in his throat when Beomgyu only tightens his grip on Soobin's hips, somehow speeding up–it really is too good. If Beomgyu draws this out any longer, Soobin might come. It would ruin everything.
“I–please, I–” Luckily, he doesn't end up needing to say anything. It's embarrassing, but maybe Beomgyu just knows him well enough to know he won't last. His hand moves from Soobin's hip to the base of his dick, squeezing it tightly to stave off his orgasm. Even though it's what he intended to ask for, Soobin can't help but wail at the loss.
“Nuh-uh,” Beomgyu pants. “Not yet. It's not your turn yet.”
Soobin babbles uselessly, fingers grappling for a better hold on the sheets. Maybe that's what does the job–seeing him so helpless, so dumb, even though the night is far from over. Beomgyu takes him by surprise when his hips stutter and he spills inside, flooding Soobin with warmth. When he pulls out, Soobin clenches desperately around nothing in an attempt to keep it all in, but a few drops spill out regardless. Beomgyu coos.
“Cute,” he says, spreading Soobin's thighs wider to get a better look, holding him still when he squirms from embarrassment. “You're so cute like this, hyung. I could fuck you forever.”
Could, but won't, because that's not how the game works. It's not in the rules. Soobin's breath catches in his throat when Beomgyu pulls away, disappearing from his orbit, and chokes out a small whine.
This time, though, he doesn't have to wait long. The mattress dips under someone's weight. For a moment, he thinks Beomgyu might have come back, but the fingers that reach out to press into his thighs are new. The touch is distinctly different, reverent where Beomgyu's was rough. It's an expected change, so Soobin breathes out, relaxing his muscles and sinking deeper into the mattress. Even if he doesn't know who it is exactly, it's one of his boys. He knows them. He trusts them.
His head lolls to one side, baring his neck as he blinks his way back to coherence. The blindfold still obscures the entirety of his vision, but the motion helps pull him above the surface of that fuzzy pink fog.
The hands on his thighs creep up, past his hips and waist and moving on up his sides until they're cupping Soobin's face, tilting it back to center. He breathes in sharply, and waits, anticipation stringing him tight once more. A pair of lips, soft and smooth, plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Belatedly, Soobin tries to tilt into it more, attempting to catch the shape of them, but they're gone again before he can.
“Sneaky,” Beomgyu says, somewhere nearby.
Soobin whines, still hopelessly chasing after those lips. A hand pets his cheek and slides down to cup the back of his neck. Soobin shivers, breaths already coming out hot and ragged.
Somehow, he's guided into sitting up. Someone slips into the gap between his back and the headboard, and Soobin inhales sharply when one pair of hands becomes two.
“Not–” His voice cuts off with a gasp when whoever is behind him reaches around to toy with his chest, already sore and sensitive from Beomgyu's teasing. “Please–that's not–”
“What,” Beomgyu says coyly. “Not fair? No one ever said it had to be one at a time, hyung.”
Soobin squirms, surrounded by warmth on all sides. He leans back into a strong chest and flinches when the first pair of hands returns to his thighs, thumbing unbearably close to the dripping length of his cock. They brush closer and closer, and Soobin sobs when they skirt around it, avoiding his erection entirely to smooth along his quivering sides. Heat envelops the nape of his neck as someone leaves a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss there.
“How do I–” he whimpers, squirming more, stilling only when he's pinned into place. “How am I supposed to guess?”
“Dunno. I'm sure you'll figure it out.”
“But, but–” He swallows around the saliva building in his mouth, threatening to spill over his lower lip. “But it's–it's hard.”
At least he isn't in pure silence anymore. Beomgyu is distracting, but it's also nice to be able to hear him. Everyone else is being so quiet. He hadn't even known if they were there or not. Now he does, and the thought of them all watching as Beomgyu had his way makes him shudder pleasantly, the heat blooming in the pit of his stomach sparking hotter.
“That's just too bad, isn't it?” Beomgyu says. “Come on, hyung. Be good and guess.”
It's high risk, but guessing two at a time actually gives him an easy out. If he gets both right, that means the last person is a dead giveaway, and he'll be guaranteed an orgasm before the night is even over. Temptation washes over him with that tantalizing promise, and Soobin's brow furrows as he tries to center his focus.
It's not like it really changes anything, but he closes his eyes beneath the blindfold, breathing in deeply–though it shakes on an exhale as the fingers playing with his chest roll his nipple carelessly, setting him alight with sparks of pleasure. Soobin swallows down a whimper and thinks as hard as he can. The chest he's leaning into is broad behind him, and the height is enough that Soobin's back is covered completely. And they're all tall, really, but there's only one person that Soobin thinks this could be.
“Huening-ah,” he breathes, and all movement stops.
“Which one?” Beomgyu asks. “Huh, hyung?”
At that moment, the hands at his chest fall down to his hips, urge Soobin to lift himself. He does so, though not without effort.
“B-behind,” he stammers, then gasps when he's filled back up abruptly, the remnants of Beomgyu's release dripping out around the thick cock that presses inside him. “Oh, oh–”
It's definitely Kai, large hands splaying over his hips to hold him tightly in place as he adjusts.
“Did I–” Soobin hiccups, needing reassurance even though he's sure of who it is. The silence is driving him crazy, and the cock inside him is driving him crazier. “Did I get it right?”
A hot puff of breath over the back of his neck, a scrape of teeth. Kai's voice so close to his ear as he says, “Yeah, hyung. Fuck, you got it.”
A relieved sob is the only response Soobin can give, sitting pliant and trembling in Kai's lap. One more. One more guess, and if he gets it right, he has the last one in the bag. Kai grinds forward, and Soobin spasms, thoughts spinning out of control. He gasps out a broken moan, clutching at the sheets, Kai's knees, whatever he can reach.
“Kai-yah,” he whines, and chokes around another sobbing cry when Beomgyu clicks his tongue. A bead of sweat runs down the side of his neck, and tears sting at his eyes under the soft cover of the blindfold.
“You already guessed Kai,” Beomgyu tuts. “You still have another guess to make, hyung.”
“Nng,” Soobin says, but any words slip through his fingers without a sound. And then–teeth closing around his nipple, a flick of hot, wet tongue that has Soobin arching into it with a pained, needy sound. He's already so sensitive there, the touch of teeth is all he needs for his tears to finally spill over, darkening the fabric of the blindfold. He shakes around a frantic sob, abdomen tensing as heat consumes him, so close to the edge–
A hand finds its way to his cock and squeezes again, and Soobin thrashes as he's denied.
“No, hyung,” Kai pants against his neck. It isn't his hand, but he takes up the mantle of mouthpiece for whoever it is that cuts off the beginnings of his orgasm. “Not yet. Be good.”
“Trying,” Soobin says through tears, moaning lowly again when the teeth on his nipple release in favor of setting into the skin right next to it. “Trying, I'm trying, I–”
He's losing his mind. Kai stops grinding into him and instead holds perfectly still, and a pointed canine drags over his clavicle. Soobin flinches and whimpers, head spinning, and it's only when those teeth dig into his skin again that the answer clicks in his head.
“A-ah, Taehyun-ah.”
A pause. It lasts so long that Soobin becomes restless, fidgeting anxiously as he waits. Could he be wrong? But he'd know those teeth anywhere. Yeonjun's front teeth are more prominent than Taehyun's, he'd know if it were him–but what if he's wrong?
“You did good, hyung.” Oh, fuck. Thank God. That's Taehyun's voice, Taehyun's breath fanning over his throat, Taehyun's lips pressing a follow-up kiss against his mouth. Soobin can't help but sob into it, hands reaching out to hold onto him. Taehyun allows it, licking into his mouth in a way that has Soobin's brain melting. He pulls away carefully, and Kai adjusts their positions so that Soobin is on his hands and knees, trembling.
It clicks in his head long before Taehyun returns, what they plan to do with him. A groan slips out of his mouth, and his fingers find purchase in the sheets, gripping tightly. And then Taehyun is back, and Soobin can't see him, but he can feel him, fingers clutching his jaw and urging his mouth to open. He obeys, tongue lolling out with a long whine.
And then the head of Taehyun's cock bumps against his upper lip. Greedily, Soobin attempts to get his mouth on it by leaning forward. It's clumsy, sloppy, and he can't see a thing, but he manages to trap it between his lips, over the flat of his tongue. Drool leaks out around it, and Taehyun groans softly, thumbing over his jaw. Soobin swallows down the taste of precome eagerly, starved for it, tongue lapping over the slit, head tilting as he attempts to get more and whining when Taehyun doesn't allow it.
“Messy,” he breathes, petting Soobin's face and hair softly. “Alright. Let's give him what he wants.”
Soobin barely has time to process the implications of that before Kai is pulling back, fucking back in with an obscene sound that should be disgusting, but really just pushes Soobin further into the dizzying spiral of arousal he's trapped in. At the same time, Taehyun's grip on his hair tightens into something more controlling, guiding more of his cock into Soobin's mouth until he gags on it, throat spasming around the girth and drool spilling down his lower lip and chin.
“Mmf,” he chokes, sobs when Kai picks up the pace. “Mnng.”
It's nonsense–wouldn't even be words if his mouth was unobstructed. He can't think past how full he feels on both ends, can't even do much for Taehyun aside from the few times he pulls out far enough that Soobin can lick and suck lazily at the head. Mostly, though, Taehyun fucks in and out of his throat at a speed Soobin can't keep up with. He floats, suspended between their hands, any remaining stress draining out of him. His own erection hangs hard and heavy between his legs, aching and untouched. It makes him whine, knees sliding farther apart, but Kai makes no effort to touch him.
“So needy,” he croons, draping himself over Soobin's back and mouthing at his shoulder. More tears slide past the cloth of the blindfold–it's wet against his eyes and the bridge of his nose. “You're still not satisfied, hyung? It's not enough?”
“You know how he is,” Taehyun says, grunting as he pulls back to give Soobin another breather–one he spends almost all of desperately trying to get Taehyun back in his throat again.
“A whore!” Beomgyu chimes in, somewhere to the left. “Isn't that right, Soobinie?”
He can't speak, so Soobin just moans brokenly around the cock in his mouth, trying to convey his enthusiastic agreement as best he can.
“Ah, fuck,” Taehyun grits out, hips stuttering forward. Soobin swallows around him eagerly, whining low and wrecked when Kai slows his thrusts to calculated grinds of his hips, rubbing insistently against Soobin's prostate. His cock weeps sticky trails of precome down onto the mattress, and he shakes as Taehyun pulls out far enough that the tip rests on Soobin's plush bottom lip. “Gonna come on you. You want that, hyung?”
“Please,” Soobin says, sticking his tongue out in an attempt to taste. His body is jostled as Kai switches back to fucking him quick and filthy, and he's never wanted the blindfold off more than right now, desperate to see the way that Taehyun's fist closes around his cock as he jerks himself off. “Please. Tyun-ah, want it–”
“Wish you could see yourself, ah, hyung, you look–” The slick, sloppy sound of Taehyun working himself over fills the room. “Look filthy like this, you know?”
He doesn't know, but he can imagine it. His face is wet with sweat and tears, tongue lolling out the way it always does when he's out of his mind with pleasure, just like this. Just like now. He makes another broken sound of agreement as Kai grinds against his prostate, fingers pulling at the sheets to ground himself.
“Fuck,” Taehyun breathes, and then there's the distinct taste of his come on Soobin's tongue and lips. He pulls back just enough that the last of his release lands on Soobin's face. Soobin feels it land in hot spurts over his cheek and chin.
He doesn't swallow–not yet, just waits, breathing open-mouthed and ragged, salt on his tongue. And sure enough, Taehyun's fingers gather the sticky fluid with gentle swiping motions, feeding them into Soobin's mouth when he's done.
“Good,” he praises, and Soobin shudders, licking at the pads of his fingers even after he swallows it all down. “Huening-ah, come on. Give it to him.”
“Pleaf,” Soobin mumbles around the fingers in his mouth. They press down on his tongue and he gags, clenching down tight as Kai pistons into him. “Mm–wannit, Kai-yah–”
He's on the edge himself, thighs trembling as he holds himself up. If Kai were to just graze his dick with his fingers, Soobin would crash over into sweet relief. He's not supposed to, but he wants it so badly, it's all he can think about, and his breathing hitches around soft, needy cries, cheeks wet with tears. He wants Kai to touch him, wants the shock of pleasure that would take him over, wants to come. Soobin doesn't even realize when he starts babbling, pleading for it, until Taehyun is cupping his face with one hand, shushing him.
“No, Soobin-hyung,” he says, and Soobin can't help but cry harder at the denial. “Just a little more. You can be patient. You can wait.”
He sniffles, trying to blink away the tears that just keep spilling. The blindfold is sticking to his face with how wet it is, but Soobin barely notices, too focused on the way Kai's thrusts falter, hips stuttering as he groans against Soobin's shoulder. He fills Soobin up with sharp jerking motions, release joining Beomgyu's inside him.
He lingers there for a long moment, pressed against Soobin's back and panting against his skin, thumbs stroking over his hips. When he pulls out, it's with a loud squelch that only serves to make Soobin cry more, humiliated and aching between his legs.
“Shh,” Kai soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Soobin's side. A soft touch meant to calm him. “You did well, hyung. You were so good. Just one more, yeah?”
“Don't–I don't–” Soobin is shaking, thoughts spinning. He's lost the plot, can't even remember what it is that Kai's referring to, and he just wants to come. Wants to come and then be cuddled until he falls asleep.
“One more guess,” Kai says, keeping up the gentle petting. And oh–that's right, he remembers now. “You can do it.”
The mattress dips again as Taehyun pulls away, making room for someone else. The last guest of the night, and one who Soobin is able to clock immediately, based purely off the fact that there's no one else left. Kai seems to leave, too, and then Soobin is being gathered into a pair of warm arms. It comes out of him without thinking about it–
“Hyung,” he says, reaching out to hold onto Yeonjun with greedy, desperate hands. “Hyung, Yeonjun-hyung, please.”
Yeonjun coos, then, and his hands find where the blindfold is tied at the back of Soobin's head.
“Soobin-ah.” His voice is so warm. Soobin could sink into it, float in it for hours. He nuzzles closer, sniffling. “Let's get this off of you, huh?”
The knot is undone by deft fingers, and the blindfold falls away, leaving Soobin frantically blinking to adjust to the change in lighting. And he sees them, all of them, watching with soft expressions by the bed as Yeonjun gathers him close and rocks him in his arms to soothe him.
“Still okay?” Beomgyu asks, and Soobin finds it in himself to nod.
He's overcome by a sudden fondness, the realization that they planned things this way on purpose hitting him like a truck. The last answer was always going to be the easiest, because Yeonjun insists on having him last all the time. It's a pattern. They made it easy on him, and that alone has his vision blurring with tears. He hides his face in Yeonjun's shoulder and trembles, hiccuping.
“Thought, thought–” Soobin can't even finish his sentence, instead blubbering uselessly as Yeonjun pets his hair.
“You thought you were gonna lose?” Yeonjun asks, voice soft. Soobin nods as best as he can, wriggling closer until he's practically in Yeonjun's lap. “Silly Soobinie. You're too smart for that, baby. And speaking of which, it's time for your prize, if you still want it.”
Just the mention draws his focus back to the aching hardness between his legs, and Soobin nods again, eager.
“Please,” he chokes out. “Please. I want it.”
“Shh, alright,” Yeonjun says. “Can you sit up for me? Wanna look at you.”
Soobin can only obey. Yeonjun coos again when his face becomes visible, wiping his tears away.
“Our pretty Soobinie,” he says sweetly. It makes something fuzzy and warm build in Soobin's chest and stomach, face flushing red. “You want hyung to fuck you?”
Soobin nods again, desperate for it, the need consuming him.
“‘S’it okay if the boys watch still?”
His cheeks grow hotter, and Soobin throws a glance over at the side of the bed. Three curious pairs of eyes stare back, gleaming. Beomgyu is grinning, wagging his eyebrows mischievously.
“Yeah,” Soobin says, squirming again. He can't deny it. The feeling of their eyes on him makes him feel special, like something to be coveted, owned. It's a good feeling, soft and warm and sweet. “They can–yeah, ‘s okay, I want it.”
“Cute.” Yeonjun smiles toothily, and his hands relocate to hold Soobin's hips. “Up, baby, come on.”
Shakily, Soobin manages to raise himself up, maintaining his balance for the sole promise of having Yeonjun inside him. Yeonjun adjusts their position, holding the base of his dick as he guides it between Soobin's legs, the tip gliding over his leaking hole. It draws a low whine out of him, and Yeonjun pats his hip. Thighs quivering, Soobin begins to lower himself.
He's loose from being fucked open twice over already, and the head breaches him easily. Soobin is gasping in ragged breaths as he bottoms out, head hanging and hands gripping onto wherever they can reach. They end up on Yeonjun's shoulders, nails digging into the skin.
“Good boy,” Yeonjun coos. “I'll take it from here, yeah? You just sit pretty and let hyung do the work.”
It's a relief to hear, and Soobin goes fully lax as the words sink in. If Yeonjun wanted him to work for it, he'd try–but he doesn't think he'd do a very good job of it, as shaky and exhausted as his muscles are.
Yeonjun's hands settle on his waist, and he lifts Soobin up on his cock. Soobin's stomach swoops at the display of pure strength, and he whimpers, blinking down at Yeonjun with heavy-lidded eyes. His cock jerks and twitches, leaking more precome. It's a pitiful sight, now that he can actually look at it–red and swollen and dripping all over the place.
Then Yeonjun is rocking up into him, setting a slow, even pace that has Soobin's breath leaving him in airy sighs and moans. He doesn't think he'll last long at all, tears already stinging at his eyes again. Every time Yeonjun fucks into him he jolts, enveloped by warmth and sweet, sugary pleasure. It pushes him closer and closer to the edge he's been dancing on all night, and he tries desperately to hold on, at least until Yeonjun is close, too.
“That's it,” Yeonjun says, squeezing his waist tighter. “Like that.”
“Hyung,” Soobin cries, body wound tight with scorching heat. “It's–mmng, please.”
Someone else moans, breathy and soft, and Yeonjun laughs disbelievingly, the sound broken up by the effort it takes to keep fucking into Soobin.
“Are you serious?” He asks. “Again, really, Gyu-yah?”
Blinking his eyes open, Soobin looks back over at where the boys are watching, choking out a desperate sound when he catches sight of Beomgyu. His hand is wrapped around himself, and he's fucking his fist lazily, that lopsided grin still plastered on his face.
“Can you blame me?” He asks, and Soobin really can't–it's too hot, has the pleasure bubbling inside him almost bursting. He has to look away for his own sanity, breathing deeply and clenching his fists to back down from the edge. “You're–ah, hot together.”
“Cute,” Yeonjun says again, and Soobin isn't sure who it's for. His eyes are back on Soobin again, fond as his hips chase release. He leans forward to capture Soobin's mouth in a kiss, catching him by surprise. Their lips meld together, Soobin's mouth going slack to let him in, and when they separate, he's just that much closer to tipping over the edge, can feel it building, boiling beneath his skin.
“Hyung,” he pleads. “I–I can't, I'll–please. Please, hyung.”
“I've got you,” Yeonjun says, grunting as he rolls them over. It's a blessing, relieving Soobin's knees of any pressure and simultaneously giving Yeonjun the ability to wrap a hand around him, where he's leaking and aching to come. Soobin arches up into him with a wail, hips rutting frantically into Yeonjun's hand, and Yeonjun fucks into him harder. “Come, Soobinie. Come on, come for me. You've earned it, baby.”
All of his muscles tense in preparation, and Soobin chokes out another long whine that fades into silence. One, two more snaps of Yeonjun's hips, the curl of his fingers tightening around Soobin's cock, and the dam bursts. Soobin comes all over his abdomen and chest, hips jerking through the waves of pleasure, almost excruciating with how intense they are. He sobs through it, tears streaking his face as the pleasure consumes him wholly, vision spotting at the edges, and then–
Then Soobin floats.
ꨄ︎
He comes back to himself slowly, like drifting down on a cloud, a soft landing. Reality has a fuzzy filter over it, and there's a distinct warmth pressed against him on all sides, a hand combing through his hair. Soobin leans into it with a pleased sigh, running a mental assessment on himself. Everything aches a little, though it isn't too unpleasant. Just sore in a way that reminds him of where he is and what he's been doing.
When he's able to pry his eyes open, he sees that he's been wiped clean. He blinks in confusion, turning his head. Yeonjun meets his gaze head on, curled against his side. The others are piled onto the mattress too, in varying positions, tangled up with each other and dozing.
“Hey,” Yeonjun whispers. “How are you feeling?”
Soobin's tongue feels thick in his mouth, and before he can attempt to answer, Yeonjun is reaching over to the bedside table. His hand returns with a juicebox, the straw already inside, and he guides it into Soobin's mouth.
Once he feels like he can speak without his voice breaking, Soobin replies, “‘M good.” Yeonjun hums, his other hand rubbing Soobin's hair between his fingers. “Really, it was perfect. You're perfect.”
Yeonjun's face is so open, so soft as he looks at him.
“That's my line,” he says, and Soobin flushes. He looks back over at the boys, seemingly dozing beside them, crammed onto the mattress like a jigsaw puzzle, and his brow furrows in confusion.
“Hey, wait,” he says, growing hotter with embarrassment. “Did I…”
“Mmm, you came so hard you passed out.” Yeonjun sets the juicebox back onto the little table, then rolls onto his side to give Soobin all his attention. “The others wanted to stay up for you, but I think it's too late for that. They got to help clean you up, though, so I don't think anyone will be upset.”
“Wow. You asshole. You really weren't gonna wake me up?”
Soobin jolts in surprise. Beomgyu's voice is low and raspy with sleep, muffled into Soobin's back, which he clings to like an overgrown koala. Yeonjun snorts.
“Yah. You looked like you needed it, what did you want me to do?”
“Wake me up,” Beomgyu deadpans. “I thought that was obvious. Soobin-hyung, can you believe this?”
The absurdity of the situation crashes over him as soon as he's addressed, and Soobin can't help but let out a loopy giggle. He's happy here, surrounded on all ends by people he loves. Encouraged by his reaction, Beomgyu presses on.
“This hyung wanted you all to himself! For shame!”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes, but he's smiling that same fond smile as before.
“It's late,” he says again. “Keep it down, will you? Let Soobinie get some sleep.”
“You–”
“Love you, Beomie. Sleep time. Hush.”
Beomgyu grumbles, but nuzzles closer to Soobin's back. Taehyun and Kai are slotted together in a little jumble over Soobin's legs, and he breathes in deeply, at peace.
“Love you,” he echoes, and Yeonjun's smile softens almost unbearably further.
“Love you too, baby,” he says, followed by Beomgyu's sleepy, “Love you, hyungs.”
Soobin's eyes flutter closed again, and he allows himself this. A soft, sweet moment of peace. Effortlessly, worn out by the night's endeavors, he slips into blissful sleep.