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Changbin’s tired. Exhausted, really, and all he plans to do once they’re in the hotel is go the fuck to sleep before their managers come knocking at the ass crack of dawn with another mission from hell for their newest Finding SKZ installation.
They do a silly game for the rooms in the fancy resort they were going to spend the night in, and Changbin honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck where or who he has to sleep with as long as he gets to sleep.
Hyunjin gets Seungmin. Chan gets Jisung. Felix bats his pretty eyes at the staff and gets paired up with Jeongin before they even play the game. Seungmin blithely points out how Chan and Jisung rooming together guaranteed them both showing up for makeup the next morning looking like extras for The Walking Dead.
Their manager quickly switches them around so Hyunjin ends up with Jisung and Chan gets Seungmin. Felix, the chaotic little goblin that he is, pretends to be concerned and reminds Jisung and Hyunjin not to stay up too late working on their new duo song for the album.
Jisung lunges for Felix and Felix cackles as Hyunjin gets a hand around Jisung’s waist, holding him back. Their manager looks like he’s about to cry, and switches them around again so that it’s Hyunjin and Chan, and Seungmin and Jisung. Changbin wants to cry, too, because he just wants to sleep, goddammit.
The only concession is that Changbin got Minho and Changbin knows that his hyung takes his sleep as seriously as he does his dancing. Which is to say that Minho was more likely to smother Changbin with a pillow if Changbin so much as snored wrong if it meant that it would cut into the older man’s precious rest.
They drag themselves to the elevator – some of them more hyped up because exhaustion manifested differently in different people – and Minho slings an arm around Changbin’s shoulders as they split up to go to their assigned rooms.
Their luggage is already brought up and Minho graciously lets Changbin take the first shower, flopping himself down on the carpeted floor to fuck around on his phone. No outside clothes on fresh bedding, Changbin thinks fondly before waddling off with his toiletries and pajamas.
The shower is nice, a little too nice because Changbin almost falls asleep under the hot water. He manages to get through his nighttime routine and gets a blast of hot air right up his nose while he’s drying his hair. Changbin’s yawning big enough to put an anaconda to shame when he walks out, beelining to the bed, and he mumbles out a distracted, “shower’s yours, hyung-ah,” to Minho who was still starfished on the floor.
“Thanks, Binnie,” Minho says with a grunt, getting to his feet as Changbin crawls under the heavy duvet of the bed closest to the wall of their spacious room. Minho had taken the one near the giant window with the gauzy curtains, and usually, Changbin would’ve grumbled for such a pretty view of the sea and the sky and the moon outside, but he’s just so tired he doesn’t bother.
Changbin snuggles down into the bed, wrapping himself up in the thick, soft sheets, curling up on his side with his back to the window. He closes his eyes to the sounds of Minho puttering around the room, breathing already evening out.
Minho turns off the lights save for the cute little lamp at his bedside so that it wouldn’t bother Changbin, and Changbin barely manages a semi-coherent, “G’night, hyung,” before he’s knocking the fuck out. The last thing he registers is Minho’s amused, “Goodnight, Changbin-ah,” and a brief brush of fingers to the back of his head.
…
Changbin’s a heavy sleeper.
Not as heavy of a sleeper as Jisung or Hyunjin, but in comparison to someone like Jeongin, Changbin sleeps like the dearly departed. Add a dose of exhaustion to the mix and Changbin could cosplay as a corpse for a crime drama because nothing can wake him up when he’s like that.
So, he’s more than a little disoriented when he’s pulled back to the realm of consciousness all of a sudden and with no warning, that it takes him a while to get his bearings back and try to figure out the hows and the whys.
He had turned around in his sleep so that he was facing the window with the gauzy curtains and subsequently, Minho’s bed. The little lamp on Minho’s bedside is on, and Changbin’s eyesight is blurry but not blurry enough to not recognize the shapes on Minho’s bed or the hushed giggles of the occupants, plural.
Because it’s not just Minho in his bed, but also Chan curled towards Minho, face hidden away in the crook of the younger's neck to muffle his giggles to mild levels of success. They’re sitting up near the headboard, bare faces illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, and if Changbin wasn’t so damned sleepy he’d let them get away with it.
But Changbin is sleepy, and he’s so comfy curled up like a little pillbug in his sheets, a proper human-duvet burrito, so he just can’t find it in himself to let his hyungs get away with it.
Except, right before he can try to fight his way out of his cotton-burrito and call Minho a hypocrite and lob his fancy hotel slipper at Chan’s head to chase him out, Chan tips up his head mid-giggle and catches Minho’s mouth with his.
Oh, Changbin thinks, blinking rapidly at the pair, more awareness sinking in.
This is…new.
Now, Changbin wasn’t an idiot. Far from it in fact.
He’d noticed how Chan and Minho had been getting a little closer than usual, both on and off camera during the past few months, and he’d chalked it up to the usual bout of best-friend rotation they all took part in.
But this, Changbin muses, a little amused, a little fond, and a little sleepy, watching Minho and Chan kiss in the bed that was less than ten feet away from Changbin’s, this was clearly not part of the best-friend rotation agenda at all.
Maybe it’s because Changbin’s still very much drowsy, but he finds himself watching Minho cradle the side of Chan’s face in his hand, brush a thumb over the apple of Chan’s flushed cheek, and kiss him softly, gently, and almost reverently.
Minho was the closest to Changbin’s side, his back to Changbin with how he was turned towards Chan, so Changbin can see how Chan had an arm over Minho’s middle, pale fingers curled into the threadbare cotton of Minho’s ratty sleep hoodie that was three sizes too big.
They looked good. Kissing like that, slow and gentle, completely lost in their own world. Changbin decides to let them have their moment because they seemed so…so relaxed and content in a way that has become rarer and rarer to see the closer they got to comeback.
His hyung’s deserved this, Chan thinks dopily, snuggling into his sheets. His hyung’s deserved th–
In a quiet flurry of movement, Chan gets Minho flat on his back, mouths pressed together, slotting himself between Minho’s legs. One of Chan’s hands go to Minho’s thigh – there was a lot of thigh, Jesus Christ, was Minho even wearing pants? – the muscle dimpling under Chan’s grip.
Minho winds his arms around Chan’s neck, arching up into the older man’s embrace and Changbin feels alarmed at the sudden one-eighty from wholesome PG-13 kissing to–
Oh, no.
Minho, Changbin finds out, is not wearing pants. Because when Chan’s greedy hand moves, the hoodie rucks up baring even more skin until Minho’s entire side is naked and golden under the light of the lamp. Changbin hysterically wonders how he had missed Chan being shirtless – maybe he was desensitized to their leader’s nudist tendencies courtesy of living together? – and it only registers when Minho rakes his fingernails down the flat planes of muscle, a breathy little moan escaping him.
Okay. Okay, this was. Not ideal. This was– Changbin should make some noise, do something, screech like a rabid pterodactyl before he witnesses his hyung’s–
Chan’s kissing Minho’s neck. Minho wraps his legs around Chan’s hips, fisting a hand in the older man’s unruly curls. Changbin hopes Chan remembered to pack the proper hair care products because he’s been so good at taking care of them so far. Hopes Chan remembers not to leave marks on Minho’s throat because they had to film in a few hours.
And then Minho speaks.
“Wanna go again?” Minho whispers, but everything’s so quiet that Changbin hears him no problem.
Also, again? What the fuck did Minho mean by again?
Chan stops– whatever it was that he was doing to Minho’s neck to pull away and look down at him. Changbin’s tummy twists a little at how the older man’s curls are mussed, and his lips are cherry-swollen, gleaming with spit.
“As long as you can stay quiet,” Chan whispers back, teasing evident in his tone. “Wouldn’t want Binnie to wake up to see his hyung taking his other hyung’s cock like a two-won alley whore now, do we?”
Changbin wants to die. No, really. Changbin wants to die.
It’s like watching a car crash. This is probably what it feels like to get run down by a dinosaur. Changbin vows to never make fun of the little people who get eaten by the dinosaurs in the movies because they just stood there gawping instead of running away.
Changbin’s fight or flight is the same as theirs: completely and utterly fucked. He’s just straight-up frozen.
“I was quiet an hour ago,” Changbin can hear the eye roll in Minho’s dry tone. “I think I can manage it again. You, on the other hand, should probably bite a pillow.”
“Mm,” Chan says, so fond when his hand had disappeared under Minho’s side, most definitely groping his ass. “Did I fuck you so good that my dick crossed your brains, baby? Because last I checked, you were the pillow princess in this relationship.”
This was bad. This was very, very bad. Changbin feels like he’d slipped into some sort of alternate dimension. Or he’s having like, the most vivid wet-dream in the history of wet-dreams.
Look. Changbin is a healthy, red-blooded bisexual male in his prime who happens to be in a band with seven other ridiculously attractive people. He’d always thought Chan was unfairly handsome, and Minho had always been so irritatingly pretty. And here Changbin was, frozen in his sheets, staring at his two oldest members, two of his best friends, about to get down and dirty right in front of Changbin’s eyes because they thought he was asleep.
Changbin– yeah. Changbin needs to say something. At this point, there was still time to stop this– this madness. All three of them would lose parts of their dignity, sure, but what was a little dry humping and dirty talk between bros when Changbin had once helped Jisung unstuck his dick from a lubed-up slinky because the kid had always been too damned curious for his own good?
Changbin opens his mouth to– to something.
Minho kicks Chan off his body and wrangles him down onto the sheets. Minho gets onto his knees and bends over, his oversized hoodie slipping up his back. Chan bites back a curse, there’s a rustle of clothes and a quiet-but-not-too-quiet slurp followed by a low moan.
Changbin stares at Minho’s bare ass illuminated by the lamp, his mouth dry with all his blood rushing to his cock. There’s not a single brain cell left in Changbin’s head, but he manages to snap the last one in half and rub them together which sparks a whole new revelation.
Oh, Changbin thinks hysterically. So, that’s what Minho meant when he asked Chan if he wanted to go again.
Like this, with Minho bent over, face down on his knees, his spine curved into a pretty bow, Changbin has front-row seats to the arresting visual of Minho’s ass.
Minho’s knees are parted, and his cock is hanging between his legs. It’s big, and Changbin has the fleeting thought of what a waste it is if Chan’s earlier claims of Minho being a pillow princess were true. His perineum is smooth, and he’s waxed everywhere.
His ass cheeks are fat and they’re spread a little with how he’s face-down, ass-up and Changbin’s cock goes from half-hard to cutting-diamonds in half a blink flat because Minho’s hole–
Minho’s hole looks wrecked.
He’s gaping a bit, the rim red and bruised. Undeniably fucking used. Minho’s hole winks at random intervals while he goes down on Chan’s cock, and a glob of thick white leaks out of his ass slowly, joining the mess of come already smeared around his hole.
There are bruises on Minho’s thick thighs ranging from bright red (fresh) to lurid purple (a few days old) and pale yellow (ancient history). They’re smattered all over the back of his thighs, the insides, and even on the fat of his ass. Changbin’s breath quickens when he sees the light red handprint on one of Minho’s asscheeks, just as there’s the obscene and unmistakable sound of someone gagging on cock.
Or a large banana, but Changbin’s been around enough to know the difference and it was most definitely cock.
“Fuck, kitten,” Chan rasps. “That’s it, take daddy’s cock like a good boy.”
Changbin barely catches the horrible little whimper that bubbles up his throat behind his teeth because holy shit? Holy shit? What the fuck? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fu–
Minho whimpers, ass swaying in the air, another trickle of come seeping out of his bruised hole, smearing white over the red-purple-yellows of the lovebites all over his thighs. Changbin sees how Chan’s toes curl on the bed, an indication of how good he must be feeling with Minho’s mouth on his cock.
“Always feels so good for me,” Chan murmurs while Minho is tellingly silent save for the wet gluck-gluck-gluck that Changbin can hear. “Such a small mouth but you take cock so well. S’like you were made for daddy, baby, hyung’s pretty little whore.”
Okay. Okay, so Chan is bilingual with the dirty talk. Makes sense, Changbin thinks wildly. Minho has a praise kink and a degradation kink and Chan had the balance down pat. Also makes sense. Chan likes calling Minho kitten, and Minho definitely likes being called kitten. Another thing that makes sense. Chan has a daddy kink, and Minho probably has one, too, purely going off the excited whines, which makes a lot of sense (Chan) and surprisingly fits (Minho) them both.
What doesn’t make sense is how Changbin’s cock had let out a blurt of pre-come at the first daddy that had slipped out of Chan’s mouth and how his cock twitched when Chan had called Minho his pretty little whore.
“There we go, sweetheart,” Chan whispers, bless him for trying to be quiet even if Changbin is more awake than when he’d performed in front of a bunch of world leaders. “My pretty baby, drooling over hyung’s cock like a slut. Always needs something in your pretty little mouth, don’t you?”
There’s a schlick and a pop before Changbin hears Minho’s quiet panting. A trickle of come is slowly making its way down the inside of Minho’s left thigh and Changbin has the sudden urge to lick it up and fuck Chan’s come with Changbin’s tongue back into Minho’s raw-red hole.
“Daddy,” Minho says. Changbin jolts because the word sounds so– so soft and indecent and spine-tinglingly innocent coming from Minho in his distinct accent, throat clearly raw. “Fuck my mouth?”
“Yeah?” Chan asks. Changbin can imagine what his hyung looks like, all dark eyes and hooded gaze. “Want daddy to fuck your throat raw, love? You’re so lucky we don’t have to record anything this week, aren’t you, Lino-yah? Hyung’s greedy little cock-slut.”
“Uh huh,” Minho agrees. His voice is shot. Changbin’s so hard he feels like he could cry. “Fuck my mouth, Channie hyung. Please.”
There’s a soft huff of laughter.
“So polite,” Chan teases. “Kitty’s gagging for it, aren’t you?”
“Haven’t had you in weeks, hyung,” Changbin can hear the pout in Minho’s voice. It’s so different from how he usually sounds, and it’s not wholly new since Changbin’s caught glimpses of this whiny side of Minho around Chan and Chan only. He’s seen how their fans love to point out Minho’s habit of ‘selective babygirl-ism’ when he’s around Chan, and he used to think it’s pretty cute even without context.
But now–
“I missed you,” Minho says then, softer and lower with none of the play in his tone. “We’re together every day but I’ve missed you so much, Chan-ah.”
Chan sighs. Changbin swallows as pale hands tug Minho up, up, up until he’s seated on his knees, straddling Chan’s lower thighs. His hoodie falls down and Changbin takes a second to mourn the lovely view of Minho’s spanked red, bite-mark-riddled, come stained ass.
“I know, sweetheart,” Chan responds. “I missed you too, baby, every day. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy– “
“We’re both busy,” Minho cuts Chan off gently. His shoulders are hunched, the hoodie swallowing his frame and making him look much smaller than he actually is. “We’re all busy, Chan, and it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you, you know I don’t, but I just– I miss you.”
That’s what finally makes Changbin feel like a true voyeur.
Not the dirty talk, not the filthy sounds, not the lewd visuals, but the open honesty in Chan’s and Minho’s voices. Changbin’s dick starts to get soft, and he silently vows to find a way to get Chan to leave the studio early or pry some of the workload on their leader’s hands so that he can spend some time with Minho even with their packed schedules.
“You’re still– I’m still coming home with you at the end of next month, right?” Chan sounds shy, but not unsure when he speaks. This time, it’s Minho who huffs out a soft laugh before he answers Chan.
“I’ll wrap you up in duct tape and stuff you in the boot of a van if I have to,” Minho says. “You’re coming home with me, Chan. I just wish I could take you back earlier so that you can get a little break.”
Ain’t that the truth, Changbin laments as Minho and Chan go quiet, the sounds of soft kissing filling the silence. Changbin feels like he’s watching a mating ritual on the Discovery channel because he’s genuinely unable to look away from the couple in the bed next to him, shamefully horny as Minho and Chan make out none the wiser to their audience of one.
Chan’s hands are paler than usual on the dark grey fabric of Minho’s overlarge hoodie. The older of the two touches Minho’s hips, his thighs, his sides over the hoodie, and when Minho leans down to kiss Chan a little deeper, Changbin gets a glimpse of the back view of the bottom of Minho’s thighs.
Confident that his hyungs are otherwise occupied for the next few minutes, Changbin sneaks a hand down his pants under the blankets and adjusts his dick, hips bucking into the touch unconsciously because he’s just so stupidly hard.
He doesn’t jerk off because that feels like a bigger violation than just watching – Changbin wasn’t a saint, but really, was he the only one to blame for this particular turn of events? – so he quietly folds his arms back up against his chest while he stays on his side on the bed, stuffed into his too-hot blanket burrito, creepily watching his hyungs make out.
It doesn’t stay as just a make-out for too long.
Changbin bites his lip as Minho sits up, deftly taking off his hoodie and tossing it to the side. He’s completely naked and even through the arousal that zips up Changbin’s belly at the views – holy fucking shit, he was seeing Lee Minho naked and ready to fuck – Changbin worries a little for his hyung because Minho had lost weight.
Not a lot, but his muscle definition had dropped, and Changbin makes up his mind to find excuses to take Minho out for meals more often. Touring and getting ready for a comeback and the thousand flights jetting around the world would do that to a person, but Changbin thinks that Minho still looks so beautiful nevertheless.
Minho helps Chan kick off his shorts, and then they’re both giggling when Chan pulls Minho down to roll them over so that he’s on top of Minho, lying down between the vee of Minho’s spread legs.
“Baby, pass the lube,” Chan says.
“I’m wet enough to take you without prep,” Minho counters.
“Lino-yah,” Chan’s tone books no arguments. “The lube, please.”
“Yes, daddy,” Minho huffs in his tiny English.
And now Changbin’s staring at Chan’s bare ass, pale and fat and so infuriatingly fuckable it has Changbin’s cock throbbing in double time when he catches a glimpse of Chan’s tight little hole between. Minho must pass the lube to Chan because Chan raises his hips, blindly reaches down to find Minho’s hole, notches the head of the tube inside and squeezes the lube right inside of the younger man.
Minho just outright squeals, louder than anything else so far, and all three of them freeze.
Changbin slams his eyes shut and forces his breathing to something slow and steady and suited for someone in deep sleep as he hears the sheets rustle from the direction of Minho’s bed. Changbin swears that he can feel Chan’s probing stare on his face, and then he finds himself even more turned on at the prospect of getting caught.
Look at him go, Changbin thinks despairingly while pretending to sleep. He’s learning so many new things about himself tonight.
The silence drags on for a long, long moment before Chan snorts.
“Binnie might actually give Hannie and Jin a run for their money at this rate,” Chan says lowly and Changbin peeks one eye open, just a little. “Can’t believe he didn’t wake up with all the whining you did the first time around, begging me to fuck you like you were a bitch in heat.”
Minho makes an offended noise at that – he’s trying to be quiet, Changbin can tell – and there’s the distinct slap of skin on skin. Minho must’ve smacked Chan for his audacity. Changbin would also like to smack Chan for his– his everything at this moment.
“Yeah, well, this bitch in heat might change their mind if you don’t put your cock to good use within the next ten seconds. Chop, chop, Chan-ssi. Time to be useful.”
Changbin slowly, slowly opens both of his eyes only for them to bug out because holy mother of God was Chan fucking packing.
Growing up with a bunch of dudes crammed into one tiny space didn’t leave much for the imagination. Changbin’s seen and heard things that are so out of the realm of normality that it’s honestly pretty hard to faze him. Felix had once lost a dare to Seungmin and woken Changbin up by helicoptering in front of Changbin, cackling like a madman and belting out Twice’s TT.
And Chan liked to walk around the dorms like he was Adam or some shit, so, Changbin had an actual frame of reference to how big Chan’s dick probably is. The thing is, though. Changbin swallows as he watches Chan’s cock rest between Minho’s asscheeks, covering up Minho’s hole that was dripping out lube, getting it wet.
The thing is that Chan’s apparently not just a shower, he’s a fucking grower, too.
Chan’s dick flaccid is intimidating and could definitely inspire a bout of insecurity in someone who’s not confident in their masculinity. Chan’s dick hard is just straight-up monstrous.
“Hyuuung,” Minho whines as Chan languidly fists his cock, spreading the lube around. Changbin thinks that he can see the vein on the underside of the shaft throb. “Hurry up. I feel so empty~”
“Greedy whore,” Chan says fondly, pumping his cock with a pale hand as Minho brings up his legs so Changbin can only see his ass from under Chan’s body. That’s cool, Changbin thinks faintly. Minho’s bendy enough to fold himself into a fucking mating press.
Chan taps the bright red head of his cock against Minho’s come-smeared, lube-swollen hole. The backs of his thighs flex as he moves around, ass taut as he pushes his cockhead into Minho’s hole making Minho bite back a whine.
The stretch is insane and Changbin feels lightheaded when Chan pulls out the tip of his dick, leaving Minho’s hole gaping and pulsating weakly. Chan does this a few times until Minho gets impatient and kicks him in the head with the heel of his foot.
Chan wheezes. Minho laughs.
And then Chan notches his cockhead back on Minho’s hole and pushes in with one smooth thrust, burying the entire length of his fat cock inside of Minho.
Lube and come squelches out around the intrusion and Minho lets out a weak little cry. Chan holds his position for a second or two before he’s drawing out slowly, Minho’s insides clinging to his cock like it didn’t want it to leave before Chan fucks back in just as slowly.
Changbin’s cock is leaking a steady stream of pre-come into his boxers. He’s sweating buckets, completely enraptured at the porn-worthy scene happening right in front of his eyes, unable to look away.
“Pretty baby,” Chan praises Minho as he starts to fuck the younger man torturously slowly. Minho’s toes curl in the air and Changbin wonders how tight and wet Minho must feel around Chan’s cock. “My perfect little kitty. Such a good boy, taking daddy’s cock like a seasoned whore.”
“F-faster,” Minho gasps, making Changbin’s cock twitch. “Daddy, faster. Fuck me faster– wanna be– wanna be f-full– “
“Yeah?” Chan asks, not picking up the pace. He barely sounds out of breath, and it makes Minho whine. “Want daddy to fuck you full of his come? Wanna feel it dripping out of your puffy little hole for days, baby? Show up for filming tomorrow leaking hyung’s come?”
“Chan-ah, p-please– “
Minho’s barely gotten the words out when Chan effortlessly rolls them over so that Minho ends up on top, sitting on Chan’s cock with his back to Changbin. Changbin would be impressed at Chan’s precision and control in keeping Minho on his cock during the maneuver, but he’s way too turned on for anything but the fact that he was about to witness Minho riding dick.
“There,” Chan says sweetly. “You’re in control now, princess. Show daddy how good you ride his cock, yeah?”
Minho reaches behind with shaky arms to steady himself on his palms braced on Chan’s thighs. Chan’s pale, spindly fingers wrap around Minho’s hips, sliding down until he’s cupping his asscheeks. Chan spreads them and Minho’s breath audibly hitches, covering up Changbin’s quiet gasp because, like this, he could see the obscene stretch of Minho’s hole around Chan’s thick cock.
Chan slaps one cheek, making the flesh jiggle. Minho jolts, fingers digging into the muscle of Chan’s thighs.
“Ride daddy, sweetheart,” Chan repeats himself. “Let hyung watch you fuck yourself on my cock, Lino-yah.”
And with a shuddery little breath, Minho does.
Changbin watches in perverted fascination as Minho raises himself up on his knees, thighs straining until it’s just Chan’s cockhead resting inside of him. There’s lube and come leaking out around Minho’s hole and smeared down Chan’s cock, and then he lowers himself a little faster, gasping as he sits back down on the older man’s shaft.
It doesn’t take long for Minho to find a rhythm, lifting himself up and dropping back down on Chan’s cock, ass jiggling with the motion and Chan’s intermittent slaps and gropes, sweat beading and sliding down the beautiful curve of his spine.
“F-fuck,” Minho whimpers, riding Chan’s cock with practiced ease. “Feels so good, Channie. So f-full, daddy, hyung’s cock is so– hng– “
“Tight little hole,” Chan pants as Minho really starts fucking himself down on Chan’s cock. “Daddy’s perfect cocksleeve.”
If this is how they fucked the first time, Changbin does not know how in the nine circles of hell he managed to sleep through it because goddamned are they impossible to ignore. They’re not even loud, not really because they’re still talking in hushed whispers and low tones, and Changbin genuinely wonders if he was drugged at dinner to have been asleep through Chan and Minho fucking.
Minho’s a dancer and it’s evident in the way that he moves his hips and rolls his body. He’s clearly very bendy, has insane stamina, and ridiculous core strength, and he rides Chan into the sheets with little gasps and moans and the lewd sounds of come and lube squelching between skin.
Chan guides his hips, touches Minho everywhere, and Changbin’s ears burn while his cock throbs at the pure filth that drips from Chan’s lips. Minho loves it if his appreciative moans and whimpers are anything to go by, and Changbin’s terrified of coming untouched when Chan suddenly says in the middle of groping Minho’s ass and his chest,
“Look at you taking hyung’s cock, sweetheart. You’re my perfect fuck hole, yeah? Gonna let daddy breed you in your pretty little pussy and fuck a baby into you?”
Minho’s entire body stills, spine bending into a deep curve and it takes Changbin too long to figure out that Minho had just come, most probably completely untouched, pushed over the edge by Chan’s filthy fucking words and stupid fat cock nestled deep in his guts.
Chan doesn’t let Minho rest because the next thing Changbin knows, Chan’s setting his feet flat on the bed, getting his hands around Minho’s sweaty waist, and fucking up into Minho with sharp thrusts.
Minho chokes at the abruptness of it all but Chan keeps his hold firm on the younger man while he fucks Minho at a ruthless pace even if Minho must be overstimulated to hell and back with his orgasm.
Chan fucks Minho like he’s fucking a sex doll, racing after his own pleasure with no regard for Minho’s whimpers, thrusting up and pulling Minho down at a fast pace. The slap of skin against skin is loud, and the come and lube bubbling out of Minho’s raw hole and frothing around Chan’s cock is lewd.
Minho finally topples over onto Chan’s chest, limp and keening, but Chan doesn’t stop. The older rams his cock into Minho’s hole, jabbing into Minho’s overstimulated prostate if Minho’s quiet sobs of ‘hyung– h-hyung, please, not th-there– daddy– t-too much–‘ are anything to go by, and Changbin’s sweating profusely like a damned sinner in church when Chan fucks up once, twice, thrice more before he’s stilling, coming inside of Minho’s hole with a low grunt.
“O-oh,” Changbin hears Minho’s say, fucked out and raspy. “C-can feel you in my belly. Fuck, Chan-ah– I can feel your cock in my belly.”
And it’s game over for Changbin because it’s too much, everything’s too much, he feels like he’d been hard for years, his balls heavy and full and cock throbbing that he clumsily slides his hand inside of his own pants, fuck the consequences of getting caught.
Changbin keeps his eyes on the couple in the bed next to him, staring at the place where Minho was stretched and red and frothing white around Chan’s twitching cock, Chan’s balls emptying inside of Minho’s guts, and all it takes is four strokes before Changbin’s coming into his hands and pants in record time.
Changbin turns his head to bite his pillow, muffling his cry of pleasure into the softness of it, and then the room falls into a quiet silence that’s only interspersed by Chan and Minho’s panting, Changbin’s controlled breathing, and little smacks that sound like kisses pressed into skin.
“Sweetheart,” Chan is the one who speaks first. “Baby, are you good?”
Minho takes a while to respond and Changbin tries to figure out what the fuck he’s going to do about his handful of come and spoiled shorts.
“Gonna have to carry me everywhere tomorrow,” Minho mumbles, and he sounds halfway to sleep already. “Hyung fucked me so good I’ll have to use your excuse of flat feet when the PDs ask me why I’m limping around.”
Chan giggles at that but Changbin doesn’t open his eyes to see, still curled over on his side, wrapped under the sheets except now the post-nut clarity is setting in and he’s holding his limp dick in his hand, come drying on his skin.
“Wanna take a bath, kitty?” Chan asks and there’s the distinct sound of a kiss, slow and slick. “I’ll carry you back to bed and tuck you in after.”
“Only if,” Minho says but then has to stop to yawn. “Only if you stay with me. You turned my asshole into a cream puff, so you need to spend the night and take responsibility.”
Another round of giggles and a kiss. Changbin feels like crying all over again.
“M’kay,” Chan agrees. “They’re gonna wake us up at nine, so I’ll keep an alarm for eight and sneak out. How’s that sound, Minho-yah?”
Minho hums, obviously pleased. Changbin’s come is dry and sticking to his soft dick and pubes.
“Perfect,” Minho says. “Carry me to the bath now. I can feel your come congealing in my guts. Eugh.”
Changbin pretends to sleep again while Chan and Minho get out of bed, the sheets rustling, hushing each other through giggles.
“Can’t believe he slept through us fucking twice,” Chan muses fondly as Changbin hears them move away from the bed.
“He was really tired,” Minho says. “I’m taking him out for dinner tomorrow because he’s starting to look a little too skinny. If Changbin starts losing his muscles, then I know that Armageddon is around the corner.”
Changbin stays like he is until he hears the door to the bathroom shut, and then stays for a while more just for good measure. He only uncurls from his position when he hears the shower start, and his knees are weak when he gets out of bed.
Minho’s bedside lamp is still on so Changbin has perfect visibility as he waddles over to his luggage, one hand in his pants holding onto his dick because he’s genuinely scared that he’ll rip out his foreskin with how his come had dried everywhere.
Changbin takes out a packet of wet wipes one-handed and starts the arduous task of cleaning himself up while marinating in his own shame and guilt, completely ignoring the undercurrent of leftover arousal that thrummed in his veins.
Changbin decides then and there how he is going to move on from this or look Chan and Minho in the eye tomorrow is a problem for Future-Changbin.
Current-Changbin has enough on his plate trying to unstick his dick from his hand, but even he knows that having to be taken to the ER in the middle of the night for a dick-related mishap is ten times worse than having watched and gotten off to his two very attractive best friends fucking on the next bed over.
…