Work Text:
Chan can't sleep. It's been such a long, exhausting day, and his body is absolutely screaming to be granted the blessed gift of unconsciousness, and yet, no matter how much Chan tries, he can't just fucking fall asleep. Everything feels wrong. He's too hot, so he kicks off the blanket, but then suddenly he's too cold instead. The pillow is simultaneously too lumpy and too flat, no matter how much he tries to punch it into the shape he wants it to be. The low, steady hum of all the electronics in the room is slowly driving him out of his mind.
In the end, Chan gives up on finding rest in his bed. He grabs his favorite pair of headphones, and he drags his weary body out of his bedroom to go to the living room. It's unsurprisingly empty at this time of the night. The silence should be relaxing, but somehow it's anything but. Not when he's so used to being surrounded by the noise of at least seven other people. He makes himself as comfortable as he possibly can get on the couch, puts on some nice Lo-Fi music in an attempt to drown out the endless stream of concerns constantly occupying his brain. Schedules and production woes and internal group conflicts. Most prominently, his own self-worth issues. Is he a good idol? Is he a good leader? Is he a good hyung? Is he good enough? Those thoughts are always the hardest to keep quiet.
Someone once told Chan that you don't have to fully sleep in order to replenish your brain's power. That just lying down with your eyes closed is better than nothing. So that's what he tries to do. He shifts to wiggle his body further into that perfect groove he has created for himself in the couch cushions. This is far from the first sleepless night he has spent in the living room. He stretches his arms out above his head, hands folded together on the arm rest, and he closes his eyes.
Chan still doesn't fall asleep, but he feels relaxation seep into his limbs, slowly but surely filling him with a sense of calm. He's perfectly at ease. Placid. Tranquil. That is until he feels the startling touch of someone's hand against his waist. Chan yelps in surprise, eyes flying open, but before he gets to see who's touching him, there's a palm pressed in front of his eyes. Chan's heart is racing, seemingly lodged somewhere at the top of his esophagus. The music still pouring through his headphones drowns out all sounds except for his own thundering pulse. Eventually, the hand on his face pulls down, dragging over Chan's eyelids like an instruction, an order, and he gets it. He gets it. He wets his lips and nods, and he keeps his eyes firmly shut.
There are fingers hooked into the waistband of Chan's comfortable sleep shorts, and he lifts his hips obediently off the couch to allow them to strip him naked from the waist down. He gasps when his knees are pushed to his chest, and his hands clutch the fabric of the arm rest at the feeling of an already slicked up finger circling his asshole. He still can't even figure out who's here with him. He tries to search for a sign, a tell, something to possibly give away the identity of this mystery person, but his sleep-deprived brain comes up empty. Not that it matters, anyway. He'd gladly allow any of the members to touch him like this. They all know it. They've all done it. They've all used him, and he always, always, lets them with very few exceptions.
Chan moans when the first finger is finally pushed inside of him. Whoever it is has clear intentions, because they waste little time and make quick work of getting Chan ready, adding fingers one by one to stretch him open. Chan's prostate isn't avoided entirely, but it certainly seems more like an afterthought. Each time those eager fingers brush over it, Chan can't contain the groan that spills from his lips. With both his sense of hearing and his sense of sight out of the picture, his sense of touch seems to have been amplified tenfold, and he feels everything so much more intensely. He wonders how loud he's being. He usually has a hard time keeping his noises down during sex as it is, and right now he can't even hear his own voice over the sound of the music. He'll probably end up waking up the whole dorm at this rate. Somehow, the thought of having an audience for this makes his dick twitch where it rests against his belly, a spurt of precum seeping into his tanktop.
Once Chan is apparently deemed stretched enough, the fingers are pulled out. They're still sticky with lube when that same hand grips the back of his knee to keep him folded in half. Chan wracks his brain and tries his hardest to put a name to the person on top of him. What can he tell from the callouses on their fingertips? The size of the dick slowly pushing its way inside? The way he shudders when he bottoms out? The pace and force of the thrusts pushing Chan further and further up the couch? How the hands gripping Chan's thighs tremble just so when they rearrange Chan's legs so they're wrapped around a tiny waist instead? The puff of breath ghosting over the side of Chan's neck, then the crook of his arm as the tip of a cold nose rubs against it? A name springs to mind immediately when Chan feels the wet drag of a tongue up the smooth skin of his armpit. “Jisungie,” he sighs out. He chuckles when it causes the harsh thrusts to falter before picking back up at double time. It's really all the confirmation he needs.
Jisung always fucks Chan like he'll never be allowed to do it again and is making the most of it while he can, which is a ridiculous notion. Chan is never going to deny any of them to have this. He has mentally devoted the rest of his life to his kids, and he's sure they're all very aware of it. Jisung keeps nuzzling his face into Chan's bare armpit while he fucks him. It's kind of ticklish. It's also really weird, but that's just how Jisung is. Chan can feel Jisung's lips moving like he's saying something that Chan has no chance of making out. Knowing Jisung, it could be anything from unhinged, horny babbling to a constant slew of swearwords.
The position changes again. Jisung straightens up, curls his fingers around Chan's hips to lift them up just slightly. Chan feels a pillow being placed under his backside, and for a moment he's left to wonder how Jisung even managed to do that when he can still feel him gripping Chan by the hips. The answer to that soon becomes evident when Chan feels a second pair of hands on his body. One of them slides down past the neckline of his tanktop to grope his chest, finding one of his nipples and pinching it lightly. The other hand wraps around Chan's leaking cock, and Chan's brain effectively short-circuits. He moans so loudly even he can hear it.
With Jisung still fucking him and the other person's hands touching Chan so expertly, it doesn't take long for him to near the edge. He arches his back when he comes all over himself, thighs quivering, fingers cramping where they're still clawing urgently at the arm rest above his head. He feels Jisung follow him not long after, his hips stuttering through his orgasm as he fills Chan up. Blearily, Chan registers a pair of lips pressing gentle, soothing kisses to his jaw until Chan lolls his head to the side to let their mouths meet instead. Those tender touches. The very familiar taste of that specific brand of lip balm. Chan sighs against Changbin's mouth and feels the vibrations of a pleased hum in response.
The headphones are carefully removed from Chan's ears, and the sound of heavy breathing filters in instead. His own seems especially loud. “You can open your eyes now, hyung,” Jisung mutters, and Chan does. Jisung's fluffy hair is a mess on top of his head, and he looks like he can barely keep his eyelids from drooping, one eye continuously winking closed. How he even managed to fuck Chan like that while only half cognizant is beyond him.
Changbin only looks slightly more awake. He smiles sleepily and kisses Chan again. “Sorry for waking you up this way,” Changbin whispers. He sounds sheepish. A bit guilty, maybe.
Chan shakes his head. “Wasn't sleeping. Came out here 'cause I couldn't. Was jus' resting.” Miraculously, Chan actually does feel like he could fall asleep now, just like this. Maybe all he needs is a good fuck to really tire him out. He squeaks and squirms when Jisung dips down to kiss his armpit. The left one, the one not already sticky with Jisung's saliva. “Tickles.”
“You looked so hot,” Jisung mumbles. “Just got up to get a glass of water, but I couldn't help myself when I saw you lying here like that, fucking hell.” He rolls his hips just slightly, his softening dick still buried in Chan's ass, and Chan gasps at the sensation.
“And you two were being so fucking loud you woke me up, too,” Changbin grumbles. Chan can feel his ears going red with embarrassment, but Changbin's expression softens, and he runs his fingers through Chan's hair. “No, hey, it's okay. I like you being loud, hyung. It's sexy. You're sexy.” Chan still feels bashful, but he manages a blushy smile that makes Changbin coo and kiss his dimple.
Suddenly, Jisung lets out a breathless laugh with his face burrowed into the side of Chan's neck. “Oh man, Hyunjin is going to be so fucking mad when I tell him he slept through this,” he giggles. He sounds way too gleefully excited about it. Chan can already imagine how much Hyunjin is going to whine and pout and complain about being left out until Chan gets his mouth around his dick to make it up to him.
Changbin locks gazes with Chan and rolls his eyes in exasperation, and Chan chuckles, too. “Come on, hyung,” Changbin says. “Let's get you washed up and back to bed.” He makes Jisung pull out. Jisung initially refuses and claims he wants to go to sleep with his dick nestled in Chan's ass, but finally relents when Changbin points out how exhausted Chan looks.
Chan gasps when Changbin picks him up from the couch like he weighs nothing and carries him bridal style to take him to the bathroom. Chan tugs at Changbin's sleeve. “Can we sleep in your bed?” he asks shyly. “Kinda feel like cuddling.” Sometimes that helps with Chan's insomnia, too. The warmth of another body against his own, like the human equivalent of warm milk.
“Of course, hyung,” Changbin agrees easily, ignoring Jisung promptly calling dibs on being Chan's little spoon. “Anything you want.” And that's just the thing, isn't it? Chan would do literally anything to please his kids, but that's because he knows they'll return the favor in a heartbeat.