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When Jongho wanders through the doors with his hair sticking up and his blanket still around his shoulders, tripping over it twice before reaching the kitchen, Hongjoong knows it’s one of those days. He pointedly looks at Seonghwa who’s sipping at his own cup of coffee, not paying attention to Jongho’s soft grumbles as he roots through the cabinets for the large bag of cereal they keep. There’s a bowl of steaming rice on the table, a couple of side dishes and some stew San’s mom sent them yesterday, but Jongho ignores all of that in favor of whining when he opens the fridge and there’s no carton of milk in sight.
“Hyuuung!” He takes a moment to quite literally rest his head inside the refrigerator. Seonghwa lifts an eyebrow from behind his coffee cup. “We’re out of milk,” he pouts.
Hongjoong doesn’t want to be mean, not when Jongho’s in one of his moods, but he can’t help the way he still sounds snarky. “Thought you noticed that yesterday, since you were the one who threw the carton away.” He gentles his tone and points to the dishes on the table; “there’s plenty of food here, Jongho,” smiling to try and placate Jongho before an argument can break out.
Surely, it doesn’t take long for Jongho to tug the blanket closer around himself, covering half of his face so his next words are almost unintelligible.
“It won’t taste like my mother’s cooking.”
Seonghwa sighs. Hongjoong bites his lip and looks at him out of the corner of his eye.
It’s not like they can fault Jongho for being homesick, for missing his parents and the comfort of knowing that back when they were trainees he could return to his family after a day of practice. Out of the three of them, he’s the one that’s closest to his home—he’s even run into his parents while on schedules before, unsurprisingly. But knowing that you’re close to somebody and actually seeing them in person is different, and no matter how many hour-long phonecalls the boy has with his family, nothing compares to seeing them in person, talking to them face-to-face. And Seonghwa knows this the most.
“Hey, Jongho,” serves to turn his attention to Hongjoong. “I can sneak you out to go meet her this weekend if—” and Jongho’s eyes are already widening “—you’d like that,” Hongjoong finishes quietly, fingers on his chin. Seonghwa can’t quite believe that their leader’s just offered to help Jongho with skipping their bi-weekly cleanup routine and maybe their Saturday meeting as well; but the boy looks like he needs it, and he’d hate to be the one to tell Jongho that they can’t do that, actually. So he nods and goes to put his empty cup in the sink, filling it with water and rinsing it out. When he’s done, Jongho’s sitting at the table with a pair of chopsticks in hand, shuffling the rice around to make the sauce coat it evenly. Hongjoong’s leaning on the table in front of him, hand on his cheek as he’s smiling at Jongho’s attempts to praise their cooking skills through mouthfuls of rice and kimchi and samgyeopsal.
“Just wait till you’ve tried the stew, it’s amazing.”
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The next afternoon finds them sweaty, tired and cranky; they’ve only gotten two hours of dance practice in before everybody was ready to call it a day or smack their heads against a wall, repeatedly (in Wooyoung and Yunho’s cases). Splitting up, some of the boys head back to the dorms, already trying to decide who’s going to get to shower first, while the rest pat themselves dry and stick a cap over their heads, leaving the practice room in search of convenience store food.
Jongho does neither; he slides down the steamy mirror to sit on the floor, hands palm-up between his thighs as he looks ahead, unseeing. Hongjoong’s the one tasked with turning off the music and putting the laptop in its cabinet, so he’s the only one left in the room. He gets a front seat view to Jongho’s sulking, for lack of a better word, and it doesn’t take long for the younger boy to fall on his side, dramatically.
Seems like his good mood didn’t last long.
Hongjoong approaches his slumped body with tentative steps. He crouches down and touches Jongho’s warm shoulder, trying to grab his attention and distract him from whatever rampant thoughts are running through his head. The younger man turns around, looking at Hongjoong with sad, sad eyes and pouty lips. Even before he opens his mouth to speak, Hongjoong knows what he’s going to say.
“I miss her, hyung.”
Hongjoong sighs, motioning for Jongho to sit up. He ends up slipping behind him, propping his head up on his thigh and threading his fingers through sweaty hair, thinking of something to say. He really wishes Seonghwa would be here, since he’s the one with more experience in this sort of situation; what would he do in Jongho’s case?
It ends up being a bad idea, because Hongjoong’s cheeks flush up when he remembers what Seonghwa would try to distract himself with when he feels homesick. It’s not cleaning, that’s for sure, he thinks, hand clenching in Jongho’s hair and only relaxing when there’s a little while coming from the boy below him.
“I know you do, Jongho-yah. But you just have to wait until the weekend, okay? Try to think of something else until then,” he pleads with Jongho, hoping he sounds reassuring instead of exasperated. “I won’t tell on you if you steal one of San’s yogurt cups, how’s that?”
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Back at the dorm, there’s the problem of Jongho refusing to eat again. Everybody else is gathered around the table, cartons of chicken spread out among them, chattering and winding down after a day of practice. It doesn’t take long for their mood to brighten up again, especially when there’s food involved. But Jongho’s standing there with a drumstick in hand, staring at the table and not joining any of the conversations going around; not even noticing Yunho’s attempt to switch the sweet and sour sauce for the hot one while Hongjoong’s not paying attention. It’s that bad.
Curious eyes turn to look at him when Jongho rises from his spot, ignoring their calls for him to ‘sit back down, or Mingi’s going to steal all your chicken.’ He doesn’t listen to them and doesn’t look behind him, stumbling into a wall as he walks towards his room.
Jongho doesn’t actually end up there, though; the door to Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room is open, light trickling out into the darkened hallway like a golden spear. On impulse, he pushes through and enters their space, gaze fixated on the lamp that’s glowing softly on Seonghwa’s desk. It makes him calm down a little, especially when he breathes in deep and the soft scent of lavender fills his nostrils. He falls on the bed that’s closest to him—also Seonghwa’s—crawling under the covers and burying his face in the pillow. Outside, he can hear the faint sound of the others talking in lowered voices; Jongho knows they’re probably worried about him. He’s being childish but he can’t help the way the ache in his chest flares up every now and again, how powerless he is against the void opening up in his chest when he thinks about his parents. It hasn’t even been that long but he misses them, misses the comfort only they can provide when he gets like this, sulky and, quite frankly, just sad.
Sighing, Jongho tries to calm himself down. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes but he breathes in deeply, trying to keep them in check. It won’t do to start crying now so he lifts up a hand to rub at his face, willing the tears away, chest juddering when he inhales.
A few minutes later, he manages to drift off to sleep. He tosses and turns around, eyebrows scrunching up while his hands fist in the sheets, twisting them and bringing them closer to his chest.
———
It doesn’t feel like he’s been asleep for long when a gentle hand shakes Jongho awake. He grumbles something and digs his forehead into the pillow, not wanting to get up, entire body curling away from the sensation. Whoever it is doesn’t relent and, soon enough, Jongho sits up entirely, eyes puffy and pout already fixed on his face. His fringe sticks out on one side, where he slept on it, and Hongjoong laughs when he sees it. Jongho’s eyes widen immediately, a flush spreading over his cheeks when he realizes that his hyung is back, and that he’s probably slept more than he thought he did.
He swings his feet over the edge of the mattress and tries to leave, only to be stopped by Seonghwa placing his arm in front of Jongho’s chest. He didn’t even notice that Hongjoong wasn’t alone.
“You can stay here, Jongho.” The bed could fit three people in it, even if it’s a bit of a squeeze, but Jongho doesn’t want to admit to needing their comfort. Hongjoong’s promised he’d take him out to meet his mother during the weekend, though in this moment that feels like an eternity away.
Annoyed with himself, Jongho tries to push them both away and finally stand up. He’s sort of fed up with himself for acting so immaturely, and he immediately feels embarrassed for his outburst. Hongjoong looks at him with his lip between his teeth, again, while Seonghwa’s face is unreadable.
Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself to speak. “I’m sorry.” A scratch to the back of his head. “I just miss her and I’m—I feel restless. I should just go sleep it off.” Jongho sounds sheepish, and his last words are kind of mumbled.
“We don’t mind having you here.” Seonghwa’s low tone surprises him. To the side, Hongjoong nods once, hand coming up to wrap around Jongho’s wrist and drag him to sit between them. It’s easy, having both of them at his side even if they’re not saying anything, and Jongho regrets not letting them help earlier. He puffs his cheeks and thanks them in a small voice, leaning his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder and turning his palm up so Hongjoong can slip his fingers over it, plucking at his digits like they’re piano keys.
Standing there is nice, but Jongho starts fidgeting again after a while. Hongjoong and Seonghwa have changed into loose shirts and shorts, while Jongho’s still wearing his thick sweatpants. Part of him wonders how he fell asleep like that in the first place, and he’s not sure how to bring this up with the other men, doesn’t want to disturb the peace that’s finally settled over them.
His thighs tense when he finally leaves the bed, pausing in front of it to look down at his feet. “I should go change into something else.” He snaps the elastic of his pants for emphasis, still not looking at any of the men. Seonghwa’s quick to go open the wardrobe that takes up most of the back wall of their room. He comes out with another pair of shorts, a dark color that Jongho can’t make out in the low light.
Accepting them without a word, he now hesitates before putting them on. They’ve all seen each other in various states of undress before, but it just feels vulgar to drop his pants in front of his hyungs while they’re still sitting on the bed like that. Jongho’s cheeks heat up and he avoids looking ahead, mumbling a quiet thank you to Seonghwa while shaking the garment for emphasis.
In the end, Jongho decides not to make it more awkward. He drops his sweatpants and steps out of them, kicking them out of the way before quickly jumping into the shorts passed to him moments earlier. He completely misses the hungry stares that slip down to his thighs, following the dance of thick muscle under skin as Jongho lifts his legs up to step into the proffered item of clothing. He feels bad about leaving his sweats on the ground and he picks them up and folds them neatly, thinking of where to put them. His question is answered by Seonghwa taking the bundle out of his hands and throwing it in the direction of Hongjoong’s bed, where it lands on the top bunk with a quiet thump. Jongho expects Hongjoong to say something or at least look scandalized, but he just twists his lips while staring at Seonghwa’s profile.
Something changes after that. Jongho locks eyes with Seonghwa and swallows thickly, sitting on the bed gingerly. It feels as if they’re caging him in despite neither of them having moved an inch since Jongho got up earlier. He almost jumps when Hongjoong touches his thigh and asks him if he’d like to lay down.
Before Jongho can reply, Seonghwa tips his chin up and makes Jongho stare at him straight on. The boy can’t help the way his gaze falls to Seonghwa’s lips, pink and plush, following their movements as they shape the words Seonghwa breathes into the air between them. Distantly, he can hear Hongjoong scoffing.
“Can I kiss you?”
Jongho’s breath catches in his throat at that, unsure if he heard it right. The dorm beyond the door is quiet, as if it stopped existing overall. Jongho wonders if he’d find a void instead of the familiar corridor if he decided to venture outside.
Hongjoong’s hand twitches where it sits on his thigh. His voice rings out clear but husky when he approaches Jongho’s ear, hot breath puffing over the shell and cascading down his neck. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want it—or even stay here at all. You can walk out at any time.” Jongho replies by setting his jaw and leaning forward, capturing Seonghwa’s lips and holding him close with a hand fisted in his shirt.
He’d be lying if he said that he’s never thought about them like this—about any of his bandmates, really. Jongho is not blind and the men he’s around every day are the opposite of unattractive. His eyes have strayed before; to Hongjoong’s pert ass during warmups and even numerous stages; to the broad line of Seonghwa’s shoulders, his thighs when he walks around. But he never thought he would get a chance to get close to them like this.
Seonghwa’s surprised noise is lost in their kiss. Jongho moves his lips gently on top of Seonghwa, as if he’s afraid the older man will break—or worse, change his mind about this. He doesn’t expect Hongjoong to join in, pressing chaste pecks to the knob of his jaw and under his ear, the simple action stirring something in Jongho already. He lifts a hand to cup it around Hongjoong’s cheek, twisting his wrist awkwardly, but he’s rewarded when he feels a soft laugh rumble directly into his skin, setting it ablaze.
The shiver that passes through him when Seonghwa licks into his mouth doesn’t go unnoticed. Hongjoong’s palm on his thigh tightens again before he snakes it under Jongho’s borrowed shorts, squeezing the thick handful of flesh and feeling it spill between his fingers. His hips buck up into Jongho’s ass when the boy cries out, loud, Seonghwa having moved to lavish his neck with attention. He leaves damp kisses on the side of his throat, just over the tendon that juts out when Jongho clenches his teeth against their combined assault, licking over the soft skin and feeling his pulse thrum under his tongue.
Hongjoong uses the hand on Jongho to spread his legs, turning him until he can straddle one thigh and knot his fingers in the hair at his nape. There’s an answering bulge in Hongjoong’s shorts, one that Jongho doesn’t fail to notice. Before he can say or do anything else, Seonghwa grinds the heel of his palm down on Jongho’s cock, grazing it against Hongjoong’s erection as well. They both hiss, breaking the kiss to glare at Seonghwa, who just smirks at them. His fingers continue to dance over the swell in Jongho’s pants, little sensations that have him gasping for breath, right into Hongjoong’s mouth.
It gets to be too much after a while. His underwear soaks through, just from kissing Hongjoong and having Seonghwa tease him like that, turning rough and uncomfortable where the wet material rubs over the tip of his cock. He pushes Seonghwa’s hand away, head bowing until it touches the delicate wing of Hongjoong’s collarbone as they breathe heavily. Seonghwa gives them both space, using this moment to get up from the bed and head towards his desk.
Hongjoong looks up at him, fingers at Jongho’s chin to tip his head up. His mouth is curled into a gentle smile, eyes blinking up at Jongho playfully. He reaches out to brush the hair off his forehead, leaning up to peck the slightly sweaty skin. Jongho’s still a bit starstruck, even if this is just his Hongjoong-hyung on his lap. As if the man’s read his thoughts, he grinds down again, laugh twinkling like bells in the boy’s ears when he allows his eyes to close and roll into the back of his head. It feels good.
Before long, Seonghwa approaches the bed again, holding a bottle in his hand. Jongho misses the heavy swing of his cock between his legs as he walks, and maybe that’s for the better. He kisses Hongjoong’s temple and it feels almost too intimate for Jongho to watch.
The tender moment ends soon; Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate to stick his hand down Jongho’s pants, grabbing at his clothed dick and letting out a small sound when his palm comes away wet. It should be embarrassing, Jongho thinks, getting this heated without them having done anything much. All three of them are still wearing their clothes, too many layers to count, but Seonghwa senses that and begins working on it. He removes his hand from Jongho’s dick, smiling when the boy hisses, and drags his shirt over his head, attaching his lips to the curve of his shoulder immediately. He teethes at it, keen eyes trained on Jongho to watch for a reaction, and it’s not until he sucks down on the flesh in his mouth that Jongho trembles, hands shooting up to squeeze Hongjoong’s waist.
Getting rid of their clothes is an easy task. Jongho watches as Hongjoong steps back, balancing himself with a hand on his knee as he does, and it’s almost as if he’s putting on a show for Jongho. His fingers creep down to the hem of his shirt, gripping it tight and lifting it up in a smooth motion, revealing a delicious looking expanse of smooth, golden skin. Jongho curses the lack of proper light, wanting to get a closer look.
It’s difficult not to make himself reach out, but he stops when Hongjoong goes for his shorts next, simply pulling them down his slim hips—underwear in tow, because he’s suddenly standing naked in front of him, half-hard cock stealing all of Jongho’s attention.
Next to him, Seonghwa makes quick work of his own clothes, smirking when he sees the plain adoration written on Jongho’s face as he takes in Hongjoong’s figure. Lean, pleasantly curved in all the right places and completely shameless as he fondles himself in front of the younger male, dropping his mouth open as he passes his hand over his shaft. Jongho is enthralled.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he is,” comes the reply in a breathless whisper. Seonghwa’s surprised Jongho could even hear him.
Jongho doesn’t have to be told to take off his pants. He scoots backwards on the bed and slips them down, pausing when it comes to taking off his underwear. Seonghwa helps him with that, pushing at his shoulder until Jongho gets the hint to lay down on the bed, cheek resting on the pillows. It’s a bit embarrassing, letting the older man manhandle him as he removes his boxers, but the smile he gets at the end is worth it—as is the shiver coursing through his body when Hongjoong kneels on the floor, laying his head on his crossed arms next to him.
They don’t waste any time. Seonghwa asks him to turn around and Jongho obeys, a little thrill zipping down his spine when he feels a warm hand pushing down on his back, trying to get him to arch it. It feels naughty, knowing that he has somebody behind him and that he’s bared to their eyes. Goosebumps break over his skin and he turns to look at Seonghwa, but he’s pulled forward by one of Hongjoong’s hands on his cheek. He smiles and then leans in for a kiss, tilting Jongho’s head so the angle isn’t as awkward and sneaking a hand between his body and the bed to tweak a nipple. It makes Jongho’s cock twitch.
Despite Hongjoong’s efforts to distract him, Jongho still startles when the sound of Seonghwa opening the lube bottle rings out through the room. It makes him dizzy but in a good way, parting his mouth sluggishly to welcome Hongjoong’s tongue inside, trembling at the warm feeling. Hongjoong scrapes it over Jongho’s teeth, flicking it over the pointy end of a canine before retracting it and smiling into their kiss, biting at Jongho’s bottom lip.
Hazily, he thinks Seonghwa’s going to feed him his lubed fingers, but Jongho jolts again when cold liquid drips over his entrance instead, making him clench in anticipation. Seonghwa chuckles above him and Hongjoong grins, playful fingers skirting over the line of his body to settle on one pert ass cheek. He kneads the flesh in his small palm, pulling at Jongho’s skin, ghosting his fingertips over his pucker as well. Nobody’s touched Jongho there before, apart from his own clumsy digits when he thinks he has the time, and Jongho suddenly feels like a livewire, aware of what’s about to happen. He clenches involuntarily, whimpering when Hongjoong still insists on prodding at him and feels it when Seonghwa adds his own fingers into the mix.
There’s a whine building up in his chest with every press of Hongjoong’s fingers to the tight furl of his hole, growing in intensity until Jongho can’t contain it anymore. He mewls—there’s no other word for it—hiding his face in the pillow when the ring of muscle is breached, panting through his mouth. Hongjoong sinks into him slowly, squelchy lube easing the way until he can’t push his fingers in anymore, until Jongho’s hole meets the webbing between his fingers in an intimate kiss. It’s warm inside, almost unbearably so, and Jongho himself feels like he’s about to catch on fire, tension settling in a heavy band around his skull.
Seonghwa breaks him out of this haze. He doesn’t seem to mind that Hongjoong’s the one preparing Jongho, his own digits petting at the skin under his balls. He notices that Jongho’s still hard and he rubs tiny little circles at the root of his cock before sinking his index finger into him, alongside Hongjoong’s. The boy tightens around them, head shooting up to look behind him. He’s not alarmed but this is almost overwhelming, despite him knowing that he’s taken more when he was alone and toying with the idea of fingering himself.
Nothing can prepare him for the way Hongjoong pulls away violently while Seonghwa replaces the missing digit with one of his own. They’re thicker and Jongho feels the stretch, jaw locking at the sensation. It’s not much but he still feels full, can’t help the way his body jerks back onto Seonghwa’s hand when he draws it back and then sinks it inside again and again. If he seems greedy, he doesn’t care, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling, spreading his knees wider on the bed and tipping his ass up.
While Jongho was distracted, Hongjoong’s managed to snatch the bottle of lube from the sheets, coating his hand with it and jerking himself off a few times. Jongho can’t see his cock from his spot on the bed but he feels the slippery slide when Hongjoong grabs his wrist and brings it down between his legs, elbow sticking out weirdly for a moment. He gasps when his fingers close around the slick length, arching off the sheets to take a better look at it. Although it’s dark, he can just make out the shadow of his hand wrapped around Hongjoong, his pretty cock glistening in places. The skin feels soft and smooth, blood thrumming steadily through the thick vein on the underside. Jongho moves his hand experimentally, going from root to tip once, twice, enough to make Hongjoong hiss and throw his head back, exposing the elegant curve of his neck. His pace falters when Seonghwa screws his fingers inside Jongho meanly, pads skirting over his sweet spot and making him gasp and clench everywhere. He’s sure he stops breathing for a second.
“Keep going, Jongho.” Hongjoong sounds a bit breathless, even if Jongho’s barely doing a proper job of jerking him off. Sweat glistens on his chest, catching the light whenever the man inhales, and Jongho is transfixed; until he’s reminded again of Seonghwa, bullying him with his fingers and teasing another one along the rim of his entrance. It slips inside smoothly, feeling along Jongho’s walls until they find the rough patch of skin inside him, settling just under it. Jongho purrs, waiting for that hot sear of pleasure to wash over him, thighs trembling minutely; and Seonghwa doesn’t disappoint, pushing in to settle his fingers warm and heavy over Jongho’s prostate, just like the heat coiling in his belly.
He can see the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in his palm, dribbling a pearl of precome that sits on his slit before collapsing on itself to mix with the lube. Jongho wants to move his hand but he can’t, too focused on the path Seonghwa’s fingers are carving inside him.
It’s entirely disappointing when Seonghwa stops a few moments later, withdrawing his hand and letting Jongho gape uncomfortably while he looks around for something. He dazedly thinks it’s the lube but then he hears the sound off a foil ripping open, and suddenly he’s alert again. Hongjoong senses it, pushing his hair away from his forehead and watching him attentively.
Jongho’s standing still, eyes turned towards where Seonghwa’s rolling a condom over his cock. He didn’t even know he was this hard—did fingering Jongho turn him on as well? He shudders and hopes so—nor that he grabbed the condoms or that he was intent on using them tonight. It’s thrilling, the thought of being fucked open on Seonghwa’s cock, and his ass aches in anticipation, hips shaking slightly from side to side.
Hongjoong’s laugh startles him. “And you were worried he wouldn’t want this, hyung.”
Thoughts reeling, Jongho has half a mind to ask if they planned this beforehand, if they talked about it between them—but he doesn’t get the chance, not when Seonghwa’s already tapping the head of his cock to his entrance, turning red when the slick sounds reach his ears. He braces himself, hand clenching around Hongjoong without him noticing, going breathless at the first push inside as Seonghwa’s thick cockhead enters him. He blanks out, eyes closing blissfully and head falling onto the bed, forgetting about everything that’s not the concentrated pleasure of being split open, almost too much to bear.
Seonghwa’s hips stutter as well where he’s standing, hands gripping onto Jongho’s waist almost painfully. There’s sweat beaded along his hairline, making his hair stick to his forehead in thin strands, and when he looks down he first sees Hongjoong, then Jongho; he gets the overwhelming urge to kiss them both, so he does—pressing his lips to Hongjoong’s in a sweet kiss, and then covering Jongho’s back with them, from his shoulderblades to his waist. He drips praise in the spaces between Jongho’s vertebrae, quiet words that make him gasp, fucking into him until there’s no room left between them, breathing hard from the exertion.
They have to take it easy; Hongjoong reaches out to touch Jongho’s hip, placing his palm over a red mark where Seonghwa must’ve squeezed too tightly, reaching under his belly to pet at the slick head of his cock. Jongho trembles, rocking the entire bed with the force of it and making Seonghwa curse in response where he’s seated deep inside him.
Moving comes easily once they’ve all had time to adjust. Seonghwa rocks forward, driving the head of his cock even deeper inside Jongho and pulling a grunt from his lips, making him follow his motions when he draws back. They build a rhythm, Hongjoong using the hand on Jongho’s cock to control him, fingers snug right under the crown. Precum leaks from his tip, making the glide smoother where it mixes with the leftover lube on Hongjoong’s fingers and Jongho didn’t think he could come by being fucked in the ass but he realizes he’s pretty close to doing just that. Seonghwa makes sure to roll over his prostate with every odd thrust, sparkling pleasure along Jongho’s nerve endings.
Coupled with Hongjoong jerking him off leisurely, Jongho can feel himself shaking apart. There’s cracks forming in his field of vision and he closes his eyes against that, gasping when it somehow just amplifies the sensation. Both Seonghwa and Hongjoong are relentless, keeping up the pace despite the exhaustion settling in Seonghwa’s pace and the odd angle Hongjoong’s keeping his hand at. They take care of him first, pulling at his body until his arms give out, falling to the bed and letting Seonghwa do whatever he wants, the new position making it seem like he’s slipping deeper and deeper into his body.
Jongho’s orgasm crests, tumbling out of him with a shout. Hongjoong’s quick to cover his mouth, the hand on his cock slowing down but not stopping, stroking him through it. Jongho falls to the bed entirely, boneless, failing to stay upright for Seonghwa, who slips out of him with a moan. He’d open his eyes, bat at Hongjoong’s arm and tell him to stop but the room seems like it’s spinning even with his eyes closed.
Thankfully, Hongjoong seems to understand and he gradually removes his fingers from around Jongho’s cock. With his eyes closed, Jongho can’t see the way the man licks at his fingers, cleaning up some of the mess while looking straight ahead at Seonghwa. They stare at each other while Seonghwa rips off the condom and takes himself in hand, tongue poking out to imitate the way Hongjoong dances it over the short length of his fingers, finishing all over Jongho’s upturned ass. He pants, head turned to the ceiling and one hand on the wall next to him to steady himself, swallowing to wet his parched throat.
It takes him a moment to notice that Hongjoong’s still hard. Jongho snuffles into the pillow, turning his head towards Hongjoong. Bleary eyes stare up at him, still glazed over, and his lips are parted slightly. One hand lifts up and it’s trembling, fingers fluttering with the force of it. Jongho makes an effort to sit up, wincing and touching the small of his back only for him to feel the remnants of Seonghwa’s orgasm on his skin. Getting over the initial icky feeling is easy, and Jongho offers his clean hand to Hongjoong, helping him get off the floor.
Hongjoong wobbles on his feet at first, knees making a pitiful sound as he straightens himself up. Jongho stares at him, plush bottom lip pushed out in an involuntary pout, and Hongjoong laughs when he grabs his chin and holds it between two fingers, touching the softened planes of his face. His free hand is busy under his waist, curling around his length and pumping it firmly, eyes fixed on Jongho; the darkened shadow of lashes over his cheek, how the flush from earlier seems to have spread down to his chest, his slight glow—imagining painting that same cheek with come, stringing it in his lashes, pushing the head of his cock between those lips and showing Jongho how to suck him off.
He covers the head of his dick when he comes, not wanting to make a mess or to have to deal with an accident. Hongjoong shudders and strokes over himself a few more times, jelly-like legs barely keeping him up, reaching out with his mostly clean hand to hold on to Jongho’s shoulder while he recovers..
For a while, the entire room is quiet, only the staccato rhythm of their breathing disturbing the peace. Jongho almost flops down onto the sheets but Seonghwa’s quick to act, and Hongjoong runs for the wet wipes they keep nearby, just to get the worst of the mess off.
They clean up quickly, trying to wipe the sheets as well, though those will obviously need to be changed. Seonghwa bites the bullet and throws on his shorts and a random shirt, making a quick trip to the bathroom for a washcloth and a towel. Returning with the items in hand, he’s met with the sight of Hongjoong clinging to Jongho’s naked back, pressed along the strong curve of it comfortably.
It’s a task, wiping Jongho down while he’s sleeping, but they manage to do it and then take care of themselves. There’s a quiet debate about moving into Hongjoong’s bed instead but in the end they all try to fit on Seonghwa’s mattress. Jongho gets pushed towards the wall.
Sharing a lazy kiss, Hongjoong looks up at Seonghwa while the boy snores softly next to them, finally resting. He resists trailing a finger down his spine, afraid it’s going to tickle him and make him wake up again.
“Do you think he’s forgotten about it?” asks Hongjoong in a whisper. He doesn’t sound nervous, more like he’s still worried about Jongho; as if tonight’s activities haven’t obviously worn him out.
“Guess we’ll find out later,” comes the reply in an equally quiet voice. Seonghwa nuzzles his nose into Hongjoong’s cheek. “And if not, we can try this again tomorrow.”