Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2243784.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      B.A.P
  Relationship:
      OT6_-_Relationship, Bang_Yongguk/Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo, Choi_Junhong_|
      Zelo/Kim_Himchan, Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo/Jung_Daehyun, Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo/
      Yoo_Youngjae, Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo/Moon_Jongup
  Character:
      Choi_Junhong_|_Zelo, Bang_Yongguk, Kim_Himchan, Jung_Daehyun, Yoo
      Youngjae, Moon_Jongup
  Additional Tags:
      Light_BDSM, Blindfolds, Handcuffs, Ankle_Cuffs, Hickeys, Bruises,
      Slapping, Biting, Cookie_game_scene, Explicit_sexual_content_with
      ambiguous-age/underage_character, Underage_Character(s), Ambiguous_Age
  Collections:
      The_Brownie_Bunch_Round_3
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-09-02 Words: 5051
****** On Your Mark ******
by saxophonic
Summary
     He likes when they have fun with this too. He likes to know they
     enjoy doing this as much as he does. He loves being the center of all
     their attention, accepted, like he belongs with them. Like he’s
     theirs.
Notes
     Part of The_Brownie_Bunch fic exchange round 3. Please enjoy!
The blindfold fits snug, sitting high on the bridge of his nose. Cool fabric
presses against his eyelids. His tongue darts out to wet the corners of his
mouth. He adjusts his arms and the chain connecting the leather cuffs around
his wrists clink. The soft little chimes of metal on metal are a familiar
comfort to his ears. If he holds his breath and strains to hear, Junhong can
hear the members in the other room, deciding their order with kai bai bo.
But, that would be cheating, and cheating means less fun later. Trying to
decipher the excited yelps from the other room would ruin the whole experience.
Like on the first night, when the blindfold and cuffs went on only after the
other members decided the order. Junhong had waited in the middle of the small,
shared bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The others had entered,
different expressions telling different stories. Daehyun with his smug grin.
Himchan and Youngjae’s faces pinched in annoyance. Yongguk’s eyes sullen.
Jongup’s shoulders tense. Junhong offered 3 out of 5 correct guesses before
they even locked his arms behind his back. Himchan threatened to spank him.
Junhong offered his best shit-eating grin. They blindfolded and cuffed him
before leaving the room to reshuffle themselves.
Junhong moves on the floor now, shifting to his knees. He stops straining,
instead listening to the generous chain between his matching ankle cuffs skid
on the floor. He wonders if someone will spank him tonight. Touch him until his
skin glows pink from one of his hyungs, or maybe they’ll team up on him again.
He shivers, swallows. His skin tingles with anticipation. It shouldn’t take
this much time to sort out the order of five people. What’s taking so long? He
wonders if maybe this waiting is a new part of the game, but they’d talk about
that before leaving him in limbo. Maybe they’re strategizing again. He hopes so
as he flexes his thighs, his ass. Junhong spreads his knees apart as he settles
his weight. He likes when they have fun with this too, likes knowing they enjoy
doing this as much as he does. He loves being the center of all their
attention, accepted, taken care of, like he belongs with them.
Like he’s theirs.
The door swings open and Junhong’s ears prick at the noise, the rush of air
flowing over his face. He grins in the direction of his hyungs’ feet padding
into the room. The door clicks shut.
“I’m ready,” Junhong says, rolling his neck in a slow circle. He knows they’re
moving around him, finding places to sit and the beds creak under new weight.
He flexes and curls his toes with the feeling of their eyes on him. Either
whoever is first is having difficulty deciding his spot, or they’re all intent
on making him wait.
“Did you not hear me the first time? Should I be louder?” he asks with a
teasing lilt. He opens his mouth to taunt further but exclaims instead as he’s
pushed. Broad hands press against his hips, leaning him back. Thick fingers dig
into his hips. Fingernails prick crescents into his skin, both thumbs
scratching in slow lines. Junhong arches his back, lifting his hips into the
pain. He wants more, willing to beg for the attention. He holds tongue mostly.
This game isn’t about him talking. At least, not yet.
Dry lips press against the soft, vulnerable skin under his navel. Junhong
focuses on the size of the lips, ruling out Daehyun with high confidence. Teeth
scrape against his skin, accompanying another squeeze in the grip on his hips.
The first hyung sucks, adding teeth to bite down and ravage the skin. Again and
again, drawing heat and Junhong’s focus to the mouth on his lower belly.
The hands on his hips tighten as the mouth releases, relocating a mouth’s
breadth away. The hyung licks a swath of skin with a flat tongue before sinking
his teeth in. His bite draws a whiny gasp from Junhong. Smiling against taut
skin, he sucks again to make another tender bruise on his maknae. Junhong’s
dick throbs at the attention, prodding against his hyung as he squirms. His
hyung bites the mark before moving to the next spot.
Five (or is it six?Junhong does a mental recount, No, it’s five) bruises later,
the first hyung relinquishes his hold on the maknae. The marks left by
fingernails sting, and the fresh hickeys tingle. He lets out a shuddering sigh.
Either Himchan hyung or Jonguppie hyung, Junhong decides. Those teeth....
But then the next hyung is pushing him over to his side, pulling his legs out
from underneath him, and coherent thoughts dissolve.
Lying on his shoulder, new fingers curl under his knees, spreading them apart.
The hands on his legs are firm but not hard enough to bruise or pinch like the
first hyung. Hair tickles his inner thigh, which would be a useful strike if
any of them had buzz cuts. It itches a little but still, Junhong likes it
brushing over his skin. It’s soft when it comes in on the right angles.
Teeth sink into his fleshy inner knee, sweet pain jolting up his thigh. Junhong
sighs, swallowing a quiet whine threatening to scale the back of his throat.
His hyung inches up his leg, biting at the skin, nipping and nibbling and
sucking. Halfway up his thigh, teeth grip skin and his hyung shakes his head
back and forth. Junhong sucks in a sharp breath, arms twisting against the
cuffs. He jerks his knees together but his hyung tightens the grip on his legs.
In response, his hyung spreads his legs wider until the ankle chain reaches its
limit. He’s not splayed open, but it’s far enough to keep his legs out of the
way.
The second hyung retracts his hand. Junhong’s legs stay out of the way, earning
him a kiss before the next mark. This time, Junhong is ready for it.
Tears prick the corners of his eyes as his hyung works. It isn’t much, and the
scant teardrops soak into the blindfold. He got to this point faster than he
usually does and considers it a good thing. The rush of sensation also unwinds
an emotional knot in his chest. He knows if it’s ever too much, any of this,
all he has to say is the magic word lying in wait at the back of his mind, and
the game is off.
This hyung pulls back, running his fingers over the indentations and bruises
he’s made thus far. Junhong huffs, his sensitive skin magnifying the lightest
touch. His hyung stops, not finishing the seam of bite marks crawling up the
inner line of Junhong’s thigh. Instead, his hyung rubs the unmarked skin in
soft circles. Nails drag over where bite marks should be. A closed mouth kiss
presses against the top of his thigh. It’s soothing, and Junhong lets himself
melt under the touch. This has to be Himchan hyung or Youngjae hyung, he
realizes.
The closed-mouth kiss gives way to teeth, enough to bring heat to the area, but
no head wagging. It feels good on the easy-to-bruise area. Although he misses
the intensity, he’s grateful his hyung backed off. His hyung nips in nibbles
that flash and fade before the mouth disappears.
A squeak erupts from Junhong’s mouth after his hyung decides on a sudden spank
on one ass cheek. The single strike is a parting gift from his hyung before
moving away from his maknae, clearing the way for next in line.
One thigh (and cheek) stings with pleasant marks from his hyung, his other side
out of balance from the lack of attention. He wonders if someone else will take
on his other leg; make it feel as good as the first. Junhong sucks his lower
lip between his teeth. He flexes his thighs to push against the pain and
smiles.
Hands, smaller than the first two, spread open on his shoulders. He does his
best to help his hyung, curling up his torso while his hyung pushes. Sitting on
his butt, his hyung lets Junhong stretch his legs out before him. It’s nice of
his hyung, and Junhong’s suspicion rises. One hand stays pressed firm against
his back, helping him sit upright. The fingertips of the other hand run
figures-eight over the marks on his upper thigh, on his belly. Junhong tries
not to twitch in anticipation when the fingers tickle him.
A breath ghosts over his skin, warm and wet, before teeth bite Junhong’s
shoulder from behind. He gasps, puffing his chest forward. Lips, wet and soft,
press against the marks just made. His hyung kisses each arc of the impression.
Fingers scratch along Junhong’s arms, nails rough at the edge, as his hyung
kisses his neck. One finger in particular drags on Junhong’s skin. Although
there’s no real force behind the hand, Junhong still wiggles under the
attention. He tries to collect his thoughts to make sense of this hyung’s
tactics in anticipation for the next attack. Short nails....
The next scratch is firmer, like Junhong expected, but on the other arm. He
twists in his cuffs, punctuated with a sharp inhale. His hyung licks around the
base of Junhong’s neck before biting again. He sucks at the spot, sudden and
ruthless, bruising the area with lethal efficiency. Junhong’s hard cock pulses,
balls clenching. He moans under the pressure, tilting his head to the side as
an invitation for his hyung to climb to the next spot. He hopes for a whole
bunch of “anothers” littering the column of his neck.
Hickeys are some of his favorite leftovers, and this hyung seems to know this.
Youngjae hyung? The uneven nails score down his arms again and Junhong, with a
shudder, is certain.
Junhong imagines what Youngjae looks like to the others watching them. Is he on
his knees as he bites and scratches Junhong from behind? Are his eyes closed
right now, focused on his task? Is he looking at Junhong for reactions? At any
of the other hyungs? Youngjae nips the top of Junhong’s shoulder, fingers
moving around to the front of his torso. The short, bitten nails on each hand
dig into his skin and follow his ribs in a slow rake to his sternum. The pain
starts out sharp and grows fuzzy as it dissipates. Junhong is unable to do
anything but fight his instinct to squirm, whimpering instead. He doesn’t want
to ruin the pretty lines his hyung is making on his skin with his extraneous
motion. He likes looking at the leftovers almost as much as he likes getting
them. He likes to remember how it felt.
Youngjae moves his mouth to the next mark-to-be, sucking a hickey on the bit of
skin below the square of Junhong’s jaw. The maknae moans, shivering when the
nails trace their pattern again, scoring trails of pink over the pale ribs.
Youngjae sucks and nibbles at his skin, full attention on his task. On Junhong.
He finishes the hickey, tongue tracing up the outer shell of Junhong’s ear.
Fingers scratch up the front of his throat, from his clavicle over his Adam’s
apple and up underneath his jaw, and then he’s gone.
Junhong whines with need, licking his lips. The air is too cool around his
dick, and the skin all around his neck, along his ribs, stings. He rolls his
aching shoulders, resetting himself, ready for the next hyung.
Cool hands wrap around his arms. The next hyung pulls him to one side until his
cheek lays flat against the cold floor. Fingertips graze over the marks along
his neck, down his torso to his legs. Junhong feels comfortable under his
hyung’s control, pliant and patient, breath quickening with anticipation.
The fingertips continue down his almost endless legs. His hyung teases in
circles around one ankle before gripping both. He moves Junhong’s legs further
apart, opening his hips as though stretching out in stride. As he crawls his
fingers up the backside of the leading leg, his hyung stops to scratch behind
the knee. He slaps the back of the unmarked thigh once, then pats the skin in a
broad circle.
On instinct, Junhong squeezes his legs together, tearing his leg from the
spread position. The chain between his ankle cuffs rattles on the floor when
his hyung jerks his legs apart again. He growls, deep and rich, before smacking
again. Heat rushes to the area, and his hyung places a quick bite on Junhong’s
outer thigh. The pain is sharp and swift. Junhong gasps, pulling against the
ankle cuffs before shifting back into place. Lips press against the spot as
Junhong relaxes again, pain fading into a lingering burn.
Another kiss, just as soft, halfway up his inner thigh. His hyung pauses,
fingertips moving in light circles over Junhong’s skin. The tingling marks on
his other thigh serve as a reminder, a suggestion in the form of warm flesh
turned toward the cool floor.
“Hyung, please,” Junhong begs, breaking from his non-verbal requests. His voice
sounds scarcely recognizable to his own ears. It’s a breathy whisper between
hot, shallow pants. There’s an undercurrent of something else, too.
Desperation. Hunger. He wants his hyung’s mouth on his skin. He wants to feel
the pull of heat to the area, warming his skin. He wants the tickle of pain
blooming in his thigh. He wants the rosy marks to trail one after the other,
tattooing his skin, growing dark as the minutes pass. He wants those matching
bruises, left by lips and teeth. He wants them now.
Vibrations, a hum from his hyung’s lips, tease his skin. Junhong groans, his
dick throbbing. “Hyung,” he says, pleading again.
With a low chuckle, his hyung agrees. A wide mouth opens against his skin,
slick tongue lapping. He sucks Junhong’s skin between his teeth, running the
tip of his tongue over the bit before releasing it with a wet smack. This
fourth hyung sucks at Junhong’s thigh again, this time with intent to mark.
Junhong sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. His hyung powers up his
thigh, teeth and tongue working hard to craft the bruises Junhong craves.
A head of hair knocks against his aching balls as his hyung skips over skin to
reach his inner thigh. His teeth hit first, a light nip in slow motion, before
releasing. He comes back down, harder, letting his lips seal closed around that
area on Junhong’s skin. Junhong struggles against his cuffs, both wrist and
ankle, crying out. His chest puffs with his sudden intake of breath before he
forces himself to realign his posture on the exhale. Another mark stings on his
thigh, placed close and with care to the previous one. It’s fucking wonderful.
His hyung goes in for another hickey. “Pause, please,” Junhong says. The lips
leave the realm of his senses, the wetness of his inner thigh remaining. He
wiggles his shoulders, his hips, shaking himself out. He stretches as much as
he can, his muscles and joints aching from his immobilization. A long, careful
hand rubs one of his calves, on the same leg to which his hyung was giving
attention. The hand slides down to his ankle and back up to his knee. It makes
him want to melt into a puddle of tingling bruises and affection.
“Okay, hyung,” Junhong exhales through puckered lips, some relief to his
joints. “Resume, please.” His hyung wastes no time in kissing his exposed inner
knee. He races back up the thigh to where he started his collection of hickeys
near Junhong’s hip. Teeth scrape against his delicate skin, harder and harder
until he starts sucking again. His hyung shows off his efficient skills, making
half a garter of hickeys around Junhong’s thigh. His mouth leaves, and Junhong
waits for the next hyung.
A smack on the thickest part of his untouched ass cheek startles him. He curls
against the spank, panting and waiting for the next one. It never comes.
Instead, the final pair of hands rolls him over on his back. Junhong shifts to
make himself more comfortable. He presses his shoulders into the floor in a
plank to reduce the pressure on his wrists. Someone blows cool, quick hair at
the head of his dick. He whines, shuddering. Junhong loses tension for a moment
and rests back on his wrists. His hyung presses his hips down with one hand,
and Junhong stays flat against his arms. The final hyung’s lips brushes against
the leaking tip of his dick. He moans at the contact, resisting the urge to
lift his hips and follow the mouth for more. One of the others makes a
strangled noise off to Junhong’s left.
The mouth re-initiates contact just above Junhong’s navel. He recognizes
Daehyun’s lips immediately, voluptuous and sensual. They curl back on Junhong’s
skin, letting teeth graze against soft belly. He bites down hard, pinching skin
without breaking it, again and again. The even curves of Daehyun’s teeth press
into Junhong’s flesh. He’s forceful enough to leave a good imprint, one that
will last longer than a few moments. Junhong focuses on control his breathing,
trying his best to breathe with the top of his chest and not down to the bottom
of his lungs.
Daehyun shifts his attention upward, leaving a wet trail on smooth skin. He
traces his tongue in a sloppy line from Junhong’s belly button, further away
from Junhong’s straining cock. His lips stake out a fresh patch of skin to
bruise, forming a plush seal. Daehyun’s tongue circles the spot, flexed to a
point as he traces. He sucks harder and harder and scrapes with his mouth so
the delightful sting intensifies. Daehyun finishes off his second mark of the
night by pressing a kiss to the bruise, wet and smacking.
Moving again, he bites and sucks bruises in an arc below Junhong’s ribcage. He
makes three: one near the closer rib-half, one centered below the breastbone,
and one on the other side of his ribcage. Each one stings more than the last,
each placed quicker. The last one, Daehyun finishes off with a nip at the
center of his mark. Junhong waits for Daehyun’s next trick, heart beating in
his dick.
Blunt fingers brush over Junhong’s nipples and his breath stops in his throat.
Daehyun finds the further one and catches it between his thumb and forefinger.
He rolls the nipple between his fingers, pinching and squeezing.
His lips press against a spot below his ribs, midway between the fresh mark on
his side and the one centered below his ribs. Daehyun bites, pinching skin
between his teeth. His fingers mimic the motion around Junhong’s nipple.
Junhong bites his lip to stifle a moan, his skin buzzing with the tantalizing
teasing from all his hyungs. The throbbing from all the marks left on his body
culminates in a heady rush. He feels more tears leak from the corners of his
eyes.
Smirking into his skin as he nips, Daehyun teases his nipple with vicious
enthusiasm. Junhong arches into the touch, lifting his hips from his wrists.
He’s had his fill of teasing. He wants more.
Daehyun retreats, and Junhong can feel him laughing. He wants to ask for
attention to his other nipple, beg for symmetry, but someone (Himchan?) clears
his throat.
All at once, hands find him. One pair loosens the blindfold around his eyes
without giving him his sight back. Another pulls him to an upright position to
get the cuffs of his wrists, another removes his ankle cuffs. They help him
stretch and ease aching joints from the pressure and the restraints. He blinks,
wary of the light peeking form around the edges of his blindfold. He tries not
to smile as hands pass over marks on his body as they help. It hurts, it’s
good.
He’s ready for part B of the game, the guessing part. The moment of truth. He’s
confident this round. He goes over the order one last time in his head,
puzzling over the first two, but decides to go with his second guess. The
hyungs are growing sloppy with their technique, their approach. They could at
least try to mimic each other, try to switch something up.
“Water, please?” he asks, and someone is quick to bring a water bottle to him.
He takes a sip, waiting for the water to settle i his belly before offering the
bottle back. “Okay,” he says. “I’m ready.”
The room goes quiet, tension palpable. He can feel it on his skin, his heart
speeding up a few beats, encouraging him to sweat again. Eyes rove his body,
making his skin prickle. Junhong rubs his belly, pressing into the bruises
forming under his skin.
“First,” Junhong begins, his voice faltering. He coughs and tries again. “The
first hyung was Himchan hyung, then Yonggukie hyung, then Youngjae hyung.”
Junhong pauses to lick his lips, considering asking for the water bottle again.
“Then Jonguppie hyung, then Daehyun hyung." He nods. "Am I right?”
Someone, Youngjae hyung, laughs and claps. Himchan whistles. The blindfold
comes off, and Junhong blinks at the sudden surge of light. “You think you’re
right? How confident?” asks Himchan. Junhong gulps. They’ve asked follow-up
questions once before, when he got it all wrong. His stomach plummets.
“What are the stakes tonight, hyung?” he counters, buying some time before the
inevitable. Junhong stretches and rolls his arms. He wants to touch every mark
on his body, everything they gave him, everything he’s earned. His fingers
twitch with the need to examine himself in the mirror, to spread his body out
and enjoy everything. Junhong continues stretching.
“The stakes? The same as always,” says Himchan.
“You get it right, you pick to of us to lick your little maknae cock until you
jizz,” Daehyun says, eyes roving down to his groin, “and, if you’re wrong, we
get to come all over you.” Youngjae elbows Daehyun hard in the torso. Jongup is
already palming himself through his One-Piece-patterned boxers. Junhong grins
despite the realization he’s missed his shot at another spectacular Himchan-
Daehyun blowjob.
“How wrong was I?” Junhong asks, rolling his hips and stretching his legs out
before him. He reaches for his ankles, groaning into the stretch.
“Close, actually,” Yongguk says, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his
briefs.
“Yeah,” Jongup says, nodding his head, “You mixed up Yongguk hyung and Himchan
hyung and me.”
Junhong sits up. “Ah, is that so?”
“It is,” Daehyun says, wrestling out of Youngjae’s jabbing range and stepping
out of his briefs. His dick is already hard in his hand, dark pink between his
blunt fingers. “Sit pretty for us, maknae.” People referring to him as the
nameless “maknae” tends to put a scowl on his face. But during this game? He
likes it. A lot, it would seen, by the way his cock jumps every time Daehyun
says it. “Let’s see those marks.”
Youngjae and Himchan are close behind, massaging their dicks as they find their
spots around him. Junhong kneels and waits for them to finish. He balls his own
hands into fists on his thighs as they aim for the bruises they’ve made on his
body.
He likes this part too, but not as much as he likes a two-person blowjob.
Junhong sighs, quiet and resigned, as Yongguk and Jongup jockey for a better
position to their marks. Youngjae settles in to stand behind him. He closes his
eyes, collecting himself, and opens them before Daehyun can demand his gaze.
Junhong looks up at them all, eyes traveling form member to member; chin
jutting out in stubborn challenge.
The next guessing game he plays is one all for him. Who comes first? It’s
harder to guess when Youngjae is behind him, out of his line of sight. He could
try listening but it’s hard to focus. With the sound of everyone masturbating
too, distractions are plentiful. Junhong licks his lips, then looks up at the
person standing before him.
Daehyun is easy to rile up, already halfway there with a flush high across his
cheeks. Jongup beside him can be more of a challenge to read, depending on his
mood. Tonight he’s grinning as he twists his wrist on his upstroke. Junhong
figured out how to work the sweet spot Yongguk has for him long ago, and
Himchan? His hands wander often enough his point comes across at the highest
volume. Himchan’s teasing sometimes crosses the line, Daehyun’s too, but never
anything unforgivable. Paying close enough attention to them when they’re being
insufferable pays off in moments like this.
Kneeling at the center of them jacking off, he spreads his legs wider to show
off the bruises on his inner thighs. Himchan and Yongguk move, kneeling on
either side of him. Facing Junhong head-on, Jongup kneels too while Daehyun
stays standing. Finding their marks.
So that was the order, Junhong realizes. He does his best to look demure ad
unassuming before fluttering his eyelashes up at Daehyun. His dick is jut below
Junhong’s direct line of vision. Junhong doesn’t move forward, instead tipping
his head back and letting his mouth fall open a crack. If he cranes his head
over his shoulder, he can strain to see Youngjae.
With a groan bubbling up from the back of the throat, Jongup is the first to
come. It’s unlike him, and catches Junhong off-guard. Long, thick spurts hit
Junhong square on the stomach, drawing his attention back forward. Daehyun
bites his lip as he watches Jongup shoot out, his hand increasing its pace. As
Jongup finishes, the come is warm on his skin. It slides down his body, leaving
a slick trail.
Junhong doesn’t touch it, or himself, yet. He moves his fists away, planting
his knuckles on the ground. Patience.
Youngjae comes soon thereafter, poking the head of his dick against the back of
Junhongs neck. The pressure on the bruises makes him shift his torso away,
makes his toes curl and uncurl. Come trickles down Junhong’s neck, his back,
some of it snaking forward toward his collarbones. Junhong fights to stay
upright, his body preferring to melt into the floor as Youngjae gasps behind
him. Junhong sits bolt upright when Youngjae smears the last bit of come on the
nape of his neck with his fingers.
As soon as Youngaje pulls back, come hits him from two directions: Himchan on
his thigh and Daehyun on his chest. Himchan’s shoulders heave as his hip bucks
beneath the circle of his fingers. He’s loud, shouting nonsense like Daehyun.
Their moans reverberate around the room over the panting of the others,
striking a chord in Junhong’s boner. Himchans comes until the last bit of jizz
drips from his tip, cleaning himself off with a quick swipe of his thumb.
Daehyun paints two final strips across Junhong’s chest. He steps back, hunched
over and panting. His eyes sweep over his work before flicking up to look past
Junhong.
Taking a quiet deep breath that sends more blood to his dick than calms him,
Junhong turns his head to watch Yongguk. His arm strain with the effort of
pumping his dick, his wide mouth drawn back. If the others are watching him,
Junhong can’t feel their eyes. He focuses on the dark, purplish head squeezed
between Yongguk’s hand. The tip of his dick gleams with precome, slick with
want. Junhong runs his eyes back up his hyung’s body kneeling beside him, and
waits.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
With a guttural grunt and a shudder forward, Yongguk spills over his hand and
against Junhong’s thigh. He rolls his wrist, snapping it to start his
downstroke. His hand keeps moving through his release until there’s nothing
left to give.
Finally, with all the other members spent and sweaty, Junhong reaches for his
dick. Tears of relief well in his eyes once he wraps his hand around the base
of his cock. He’s been ready for this, waiting so long tonight to relieve the
ache. His hand moves of its own accord, squeezing tight and gaining speed as he
slides along his shaft. The pressure building further in his balls...it’s too
fast, he’s going to come too soon, and it feels too good to slow down.
It’s Daehyun and Jongup’s lazy, smirking faces he watches before he comes.
Squeezing his eyes shut as wave after wave of pleasure roll through him, a few
tears trickle down to wet his cheeks. Silence reigns beside the heartbeat in
his ears.
Junhong blinks bleary-eyed, looking down at his sticky hand and the mess on his
body. His head swivels, looking for his hyungs and finding Yongguk and Himchan
beside him. They help him to stand, knees a dull ache somewhere between his
hips and his ankles. Junhong responds to their questions (“Are you thirsty,
Junhong?” “Someone get the tissues.”), moving when they ask. He takes a moment
for himself, mentally, letting himself soak up the feeling before he’s back on
Earth.
His body buzzes like school just let out, and he feels like he’s floating in a
pool of euphoria, and the best part? The bruises will be tender for a few days.
He reaches for the water bottle on the side table. Youngjae helps bring it the
rest of the way. He thanks his hyung and tips the bottle back. Sticky and
sweaty and spent, he’s alive. Loved.
Himchan sidles up next to him, one hand flipping the tag on the back of his
white tee. He’s sweat through parts of the shirt. “Better luck next time,
Junhonggie,” he says, nudging an elbow into Junhong’s side. Junhong flinches,
swallowing the mouthful of water before grinning back.
“Will I need the luck, hyung?” Junhong asks, raising his eyebrows with heavy
suggestion. “I’m not the one who always has to prove he can take—” Himchan
squawks with undue indignation, looking far more scandalized than necessary. He
bustles out of the room, following Yongguk as the members trail out. Junhong
stops following and watches them leave, pausing for a moment as he laughs under
his breath. He’ll get that double blowjob next time, he’s sure of it.
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