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They didn't keep secrets between them. There was no need to. Ever since they found a home in each other, they worked everything out through honest communication. If they were to keep stuff from each other, it was small, meaningless things.
Jisung had been planning on telling them for a long time now. Hand over his heart, he had. He wasn't obliged to say anything, he understood that now, but by keeping it secret, it... interfered with their relationship.
He had a lot of time to process. To come to terms with it, to accept and work on it. Work on his body; on broadening his back, building his muscles and strength, his body toned and finally his. The moment he turned eighteen, he made the decision of no return after extensive research, and called up his doctor he had been in touch with privately to perform top surgery on him.
Jisung told them he was visiting family, something that came up unexpectedly. A health issue, and that he needed to be with them for a couple of weeks.
By the time he was back, nobody ever noticed a thing, already more than halfway into his journey of recovery.
He understood he didn't have to go through everything alone, he understood that, but no matter what his friends from here told him, encouraging him to be open about it, he couldn't. These seven boys reflected his heart and soul- Jisung wouldn't be with them if he didn't feel safe and at home with them, and yet his asshole of a brain wouldn't let him. Logically, he knew they'd be fully supportive and accepting, but there was an insistent voice in the deepest depths of his mind, singing choirs about his inescapable doom if he were to do so, their faces twisted with disgust, disappointment, and betrayal keeping him sleepless at nights.
But when all eight of them became an item, things started to become difficult. Jisung told them he didn't feel comfortable yet, that he needed time and space, that he might never feel comfortable doing anything too intimate. It wasn't exactly a lie, per se- to an extent, a part of it was true. He was fine with making out and anything that involved above the waist- only over clothes.
Of course, because it was them, they were respectful. Not once did they even come close to crossing his boundaries. No matter how much they ached, they put his wants and needs above everything else. They reassured him time and time again that even if he never wanted to do anything more than kissing, nothing would change between them. Though, the thing was, Jisung wanted. Oh, how he wanted and yearned for something that was barely out of reach. Muffled moans teasing, mocking him behind walls, skin slapping against skin, more, more, please, ah-
Sometimes, Jisung would hear his name professed between them in these moments. Every time, as if with them, he'd slither a hand between his legs, gushing and throbbing with heat, bringing himself to another unsatisfied orgasm. Sometimes, when he thought he was alone in the dorms, he would borrow a few of their- toys. A dildo, a vibrator. Soft cries and needy moans tumbling out of his lips as he would fuck himself on the toys, driving himself crazy at the thought of these having been previously inside them.
When Jisung would step out of his room and into the common space, he'd be greeted with red faces and tense smiles, eyes that would not dare meet him.
Every now and then, when he scoured the internet, he came across this particular joke STAYs shared between them about how there were no pictures of him before the age of thirteen, so that must mean he was hiding something, or that he suddenly 'spawned' at that age. They were just harmless jokes, and yet they never failed to make him nauseous and paranoid, unable to go to sleep as he feared waking up to find his name trending on the news about his 'true' identity.
But he was always so, so careful. Mindful of not seeing him completely naked. Though the scars under his chest had fully healed, only a faint line lingered, visible only if one was really looking. Make-up helped to conceal them fully. Always careful in keeping his menstrual products in his bedroom, shoved in the farthest corner of the bottom drawer of his closet. Wore baggy clothes, and when he was forced to wear tight pants, he was creative in order to fabricate the needed illusion.
For six years now since he walked into the spotlight, Jisung has been diligent and extremely careful.
It merely took one careless, absentminded mistake to lay everything bare.
It was a usual Friday evening like all others. Their schedule wasn't as packed, so they gathered over at the Maknae-Minho dorm for a movie marathon. He was too comfortable, too relaxed, and didn't think. He was snuggled up to Jeongin, arm held tightly to his chest. Shortly after, Chan untangled himself from Felix's and Hyunjin's hold and disappeared down the hallway to the bathroom.
"Mm, I'm hungry." He complained, face half-buried against the crook of Jeongin's neck. He nipped at the skin there, starting to lazily mouth over it.
"Why am I the victim?" Jeongin grumbled, but there was no bite to it, moving his head to the side to make room for Jisung.
"'Cause I've got a sweet tooth and I'm weak when it comes to sugary delights such as yourself." Jisung purred, snaking his hand over Jeongin's waist, fingers curling over his hip.
"Ugh," Jeongin grimaced, pushing his face away. "Do you use that line to all girls?"
Jisung grasped Jeongin's hand and pressed his lips over the center of his palm, lips twitching into a small grin. "Only to the ones that catch my eye."
Jeongin snorted but turned to face him, tilting his head to place a peck on Jisung's lips, lingering for three seconds.
Suddenly, a door slamming against the wall startled him, jerking back. Thundering footsteps followed as Chan appeared around the corner a second later, face twisted with panic.
"Who went to the bathroom?" He asked urgently, voice tight.
They all froze, looking at him in confusion.
"All of us did? You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, hyung." He replied, sitting up straight on the couch.
Chan's eyes frantically scanned their bodies as if- as if he was searching for something the naked eye could not discern.
"Who went in the last hour?"
Changbin stood up and went to Chan's side, his brows snapped together in a concerned frown. What could have possibly happened to make Chan so shaken up? Jisung shared a look with Jeongin who merely shrugged, just as lost.
"I did? About like, twenty minutes ago or so. I don't understand what's the-" before Jisung could finish, Chan barreled closer, fingers closing around his wrist. His other hand came up to cup Jisung's cheek, eyes almost undressing him, squirming from the intensity.
"Hyung, what-"
"Where is it?" Chan interjected.
He huffed in frustration, "Where is what?"
"Where are you hurt? I saw the blood." Chan stroked his cheek, features contorted into a painful expression. "Is it bad? Why didn't you say anything? Do I- fuck, do we need to call an ambulance?"
Jisung's frown deepened in confusion, the gears in his head turning. Then, it clicked. Unfortunately, the realization dawned visibly on his face, eyes widening with it which Chan caught, fingers around his wrist tightening.
All color disappeared from his face, his gut churning. His period was supposed to come around three days ago and it surprised him today, so he had to rush to his room to get a tampon. He didn't think to wrap the stained toilet paper with his blood and merely tossed it in the trash can. It was careless, but an honest mistake. An honest mistake that could cost him everything.
"It's nothing," he defended, but it sounded weak and unconvincing even to his own ears. He was never good at outright lying to them, and he wasn't about to start doing it now, but he wasn't- he wasn't emotionally prepared for this conversation. It was too soon, too fucking soon. He couldn't. He couldn't.
"Why are you lying?" Changbin said with an accusing tone, eyes narrowed. "I thought Chan was exaggerating at first, but you never lie."
He tried to pull himself away, tugging at his hand, but Chan persisted. "I said it's nothing. Nothing serious. You don't have to worry about it, I'm- I'm dealing with it."
"Dealing with it? Jisung, there were several paper sheets drenched in blood." Chan fumed, voice laced with exasperation and crushing worry.
After Chan's words, all of them started to swarm and bombard him with unrelenting questions, worry, and anger at his recklessness and discard of his well-being.
He could hardly blame them. From an outsider's perspective, the unknown was scary. However, no matter how much he racked his brain, there was no plausible excuse. 'I am actively bleeding, but it's natural, don't worry about it?' He was grasping at straws here. Nothing would hold up.
His mind clouded with irrational fear at the underlying disappointment in their eyes through all the worry. His chest constricted, starting to gasp for air, blood rushing to his face.
Seungmin's words were the final nail in the coffin.
"Are you hurting yourself?"
"You want to know so much? Fine." Jisung snapped, tears of frustration shimmering in his eyes. He wrenched himself away and stomped down the hallway before they could stop him, their sudden yells following after him.
Once into his room, he crouched and yanked the lowest drawer open, rummaging through his stuff to snatch the box of opened tampons. He then headed outside, ignoring their eyes as he pushed through, shoving the pack roughly against Chan's chest.
"There. You guys are smart. I know you can figure it out." He said with a bitter smile, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. "I hope you're fucking happy."
Without waiting for a response, he shouldered past them and stormed outside of the dorms, recklessly flying down the stairs. Once he burst out into the outside world, almost in a daze, his eyes darted back and forth on the road. When he caught sight of a taxi stopping by to drop a person, he speed-walked to it, ducking inside.
He didn't remember replying to the driver, the world blurring, a constant buzzing prickling his ears. He only focused on choking down his hiccups, palm pressed over his mouth as he stared outside the window.
When the taxi dropped him off, Jisung was forced back into reality. Numb, he took his phone to check his location, ignoring the countless unanswered texts and calls.
He was nearly two hours away from their dorms by foot. Almost on autopilot, he dragged his feet to the nearest bench next to a park and dropped on it, bracing his elbows on his thighs.
Then, a crushing wave of guilt and shame washed over him, everything finally catching up to him.
He screamed and cussed them out, nearly throwing shit at them. At Chan. Would they be upset? Disappointed? Would they think him entitled for acting the way he did, blowing up on them? He didn't mean to, Jisung was just- scared, and used his frustration as a shield at that moment.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. It couldn't get worse than this. He knew they would never dare to cut him off for this, and yet-
And yet.
Jisung folded in half, raking his hands through his hair, closing them around in a fistful, pulling. For the first time since ever, he didn't want to go home, knowing what was waiting for him.
The unknown.
If only his brain wasn't wired like this. If only he wasn't born like this. If only he was normal. If only, if only, if-
No. No, he couldn't go down that rabbit hole. If he allowed that door to open even an inch, he would never be able to get it closed again. Jisung had fought and made such huge progress- he would not return to that. He would not let anyone do this to him again, not even…
After a while, he leaned back against the bench, head tilted heavenward. "I should head back," he said out loud to himself, but made no effort to get up.
Further procrastination would only make his situation worse. Normally, he'd call them up to come and pick him up, but he didn't want to deal with them one by one. Facing all seven of them head-on was going to be hell, but Jisung wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. The anticipation was killing him.
That, and if he didn't show up for more than an hour or two later, they'd probably do something stupid.
Therefore, Jisung pushed himself off the bench and began making his way back. Pointedly trying to keep himself from reading the messages, he sent a text to the group chat to let them know that he was alright and get back soon.
Almost four hours after he fled, Jisung stood before the building dorm, neck craned back, eyes flicking over the light coming from the windows. With a heavy heart, he pushed through the main entrance and up the elevator until he was standing outside the front door. With a shuddering breath, he twisted the door handle, keys clinking. Stepping into the foyer, he was greeted with a deathly silence. He walked, one leg heavier than the other as he rounded the corner, walking into the common space.
"C'mon," he said, refusing to look up. He knew all of them were present, their eyes boring into his head. He gripped his keys tighter, unforgiving metal digging into his palm. "Let's hear it."
Footsteps stumbling, something knocking against a surface, and then-
"I'm sorry." Came Chan's croak; voice thin in a shrill. Miserable. Wretched.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to force you, I didn't- Hannie, I'm not asking for forgiveness because I don't deserve it, and- and you can hate me for it, I will gladly accept it, but I need you to know that it changes nothing. I need you to know that I love you- we love you, and nothing- nothing will ever change that."
Jisung turned the keys in his hand, eyes falling shut at the staggering relief that swept over him. He had prepared for the worst, had forged an impenetrable force around him, welcoming hostility with open arms. He had worked himself up into fearing them. His boyfriends, his partners. His everything.
While destruction was prevented, there was still much to come.
"Please. Please look at me, baby."
Reluctantly, he did. He looked up, meeting Chan's eyes. Face flushed, cheeks swollen and eyes bloodshot. He looked awful, eyes still wet as if he had just managed to stop crying. Chan seemed convinced that Jisung hated him for what he did. Despite this fact, he still fought to make him understand that Jisung was loved.
"Tell me you know."
The desperation was reflected in their eyes. Regret. Love. Devotion. Unease. Scared that they were going to lose him.
Jisung took a few steps closer, leaving his keys on the kitchen island as he walked up to him. He gently cupped Chan's face, his heart shattering into a million pieces as Chan leaned and nuzzled against the weight of his hands, shoulders trembling with quiet sobs. He tilted his head, placing a loving kiss on Chan's brow.
"I know. I forgive you." He whispered.
Chan's face twisted as if he was about to cry again, nodding. Then, Jisung turned to look at his other boyfriends with a shy smile. "I guess a conversation is due."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Seungmin cut in, leveling him with a look that conveyed sincerity.
"I want to. I've wanted to for a long time now. I always avoided it because I was… scared." He admitted as he lowered his hands and took Chan's, guiding him towards the couches.
"We would never." Hyunjin vowed, looking slightly offended and- horrified, his next words a strangled whisper. He looked like he wanted to close the remaining space between them but didn't dare to. "Do you really think we... we would..."
"No. I mean-" he sighed and pressed a fist against his forehead. "Yes, kind of. Rationally, I know you'd be fine with it, but my stupid brain didn't listen to sense. I've seen the shit people like me get for simply being ourselves, and... I had too much to lose."
"I've known since I was eleven, y'know?" He continued with a chuckle, vision swimming with tears. "At least, that's when it started to become clear to me. I didn't have an epiphany or anything. I've always felt... I've always been different. But back home, it was- they would never accept me, so I guess it was partially why I came to Korea."
He stroked Chan's hand with his thumb and straightened his fingers, brushing over his knuckles lovingly. "When I turned eighteen, remember how I told you that my grandma had a health issue so I needed to go back home?"
"Yeah. Something about her heart condition acting up?"
He glanced up guiltily, "I lied. I never returned to Malaysia. I was at my friend's, recovering after surgery." He confessed, bringing one hand to rest over his chest.
"I'm sorry. Not everything was a lie, though. It did take me years to live comfortably enough in my body."
"You don't have to apologize. About anything." Minho stated.
After several seconds of silence, Jeongin spoke up from the other couch. "So, what are we having for dinner?"
"Jeongin!" Chan chastised.
"What? I'm hungry. Can't we talk over dinner?"
Jisung let out a watery chuckle, watching in amusement as a lighthearted argument broke out between them.
He wouldn't change this for the world.
It felt liberating not having to hide from them.
He moved all of his menstrual products into the bathroom he shared with Hyunjin, filling up the empty cabinet above the sink. He no longer had to tiptoe around them, hiding himself and hiding his body. Jisung walked freely around the dorms, discarding the oversized pants and hoodies that nearly reached his thighs, instead strutting around with a loose t-shirt or without, sometimes half-naked, wearing only his lace panties.
The first time he walked into the common space dressed in only his underwear, too lazy to put on anything else, Changbin spat his coffee everywhere and nearly choked himself to death.
And yet, nothing changed. They wouldn’t dare go further than what they previously did, and for a moment, for a terrible, utterly foolish moment, Jisung thought that they didn’t want him that way now that they knew. Before he could allow himself to sink into that bottomless pit, thankfully, he realized that he never explicitly told them about it. About how he wanted to finally try and be- intimate with them.
One day, when it was just him and Chan in the studio, Jisung made his move.
They had wrapped up recording the vocals for the guide and would get to recording their new album first thing tomorrow morning. They were all exhausted; his throat was raw and sore, Changbin could barely keep his eyes open, and it was obvious he was trying not to talk in case he were to unnecessarily snap at them, always sensitive and cranky when exhausted. Chan, as always, refused to leave.
But Changbin also refused to leave Chan alone, hating having to let him fight with this on his own, but Jisung could see that he was overwrought and only wanted to go to sleep and prepare for another exhausting day.
He sat on the couch and with a palm over Changbin’s nape, leaned close. “Go home, hyung. I’ll take care of him, okay?”
Changbin, stubborn as ever, shook his head, sluggish and slow. “No, ‘m not leaving him. He needs-”
“You need to sleep.” He interjected raspily, knocking his forehead softly against Changbin’s. “We’ll be alright. I have him. Get some rest, you’ll need it.”
The corners of Changbin’s lips twisted into a frown, and Jisung could see the war in his eyes- his duty as a hyung and partner to them. They were a handful, these two. Changbin and Chan refused help which pissed him off to no end considering how thickheaded both of them could get. Even if he was younger, that did not mean that he couldn’t help them and be the pillar they needed to lean on.
After much convincing and almost having to kick Changbin out of the studio, it was only the two of them. Jisung stood there, staring at the soundproof door for a few seconds. The only sound that broke the silence was the insistent clicking of the keyboard binds and mouse. He turned around, glancing at the clock on the wall.
2:09am.
Then, he glanced at Chan who was hunched over the desk, studying him. A layer of mist had fallen over his eyes, a glistening sheen, trembling with vulnerability. He barely responded to the outside world, not having spoken a word for more than an hour now. From the tense lines of his shoulders to the slight quiver of his lower lip, hands moving on autopilot over the keyboard, mechanic and twitchy movements, it was evident that Chan wouldn’t last much longer.
He rarely ever entered subspace outside of a scene, but when he did, the others knew what to do, taking care of him just the way he needed. Jisung had watched from the sidelines, always incapable of participating himself, hating himself for refusing to give him what he wanted and needed. Once, Felix had him flat on his belly on the bed, bodies sliding together with an arm wrapped around the front of Chan’s neck in a headlock, fucking him to an overstimulated mess. Once, he saw Chan kneeling between Hyunjin’s spread legs, mouth filled with cock as he drooled and calmly breathed, head resting against Hyunjin’s thigh, cock-warming him for hours.
Jisung stepped closer, hands settling on Chan’s shoulders, starting to dig his fingers in and working on the knots.
“Hey, Channie,” he said softly, bending down to press his lips over the side of Chan’s head. “It’s getting late. Time to get you in bed, yeah?”
“Can’t sleep. Waste of time.” Chan muttered, barely getting his eyes off the computer screen, though ever so slightly, he could feel the body beneath his hands uncoiling.
He nodded, “I know, I know, but it’s still better to lie down and rest your eyes. Will you do that for me, hyung? Will you be a good boy for me and follow me to bed?”
A responsive twitch, then, a pause. Jisung waited patiently, giving him as much time as he needed. Rushing him was the worst thing he could possibly do, as it would only induce more stress. Chan leaned back, hesitant eyes peering up at him.
“Will... will Sungie take care of Channie?” He asked shyly, a barely restrained giddiness bubbling in his voice.
His heart soared in his chest, only now realizing how long Chan must have waited for this moment. How long he must have waited to finally have Jisung like this.
“Yeah,” he answered in a croak, offering a wide smile. “Of course I will. Let’s get going, shall we?”
After he safely shut all equipment down in the studio, he called up an Uber, barely having to wait more than three minutes before it arrived. Chan was in no condition to drive back to their dorm, and he knew that come morning, his car’s mysterious absence could potentially stress him out more, but that was to be dealt with tomorrow.
During the entire ride, Chan was nestled at his side, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent whilst he tightly clutched at his waist. When they were dropped off one block away, as Jisung guided them down the street, the slightest motion that forced him to move away set Chan off, grasping and pulling him closer with a wounded sound rumbling at the back of his throat. When they stumbled inside the front door of their shared apartment, the clock was nearing 3am.
He peeled Chan’s coat away and then kneeled to take his shoes off. Jisung pulled them down the hallway and towards the rooms, stopping for a second and glancing between the two corridors until ultimately deciding to go to his room. Once inside, the door sealed behind them, he cupped Chan’s face and kissed him, slow and tender.
“I'm going to use your pretty mouth, and then, if you’re good, I’ll fuck you, okay?” Chan nodded, but he tutted, bringing a hand up to yank at his hair.
“Use your words, pup.”
“Yes, please. Please, want- want Sungie. Need you.”
Jisung cooed, “There’s my good boy.”
They barely made out more than a few minutes before this, but he was already so wet, unconsciously pressing his thighs together, the throbbing heat spiking. He guided Chan back once he was fully naked, laying him down on the bed, mind reeling as his eyes remained glued upon those spit-coated and glistening lips and big nose. God, he had been fantasizing for years about this moment, having lost count of how many times he jerked off to the thought of sitting on that face.
Jisung tugged off his shirt, his pants and soaked underwear following right after. Tears swam in Chan’s eyes, not once straying away from him. He squirmed, hands clenching and unclenching around the bedsheets, silently begging him with his eyes. Jisung huffed fondly at Chan’s efforts to keep still and decided to deliver him from this torture. With knees sliding upon the bed, he crawled over Chan’s body, over his face, pausing inches away. Chan’s eyes were dilated, transfixed upon his cunt, nostrils flaring. With a whine, he bucked his hips, fucking up in the air.
“Eager puppy,” he mused and finally fully sat down, a moan catching at his throat.
He rolled his hips against the eager tongue that immediately lapped at his folds, head thrown back. Usually, it would take several minutes until Jisung would be even close to a building orgasm, yet right now, he could feel the tension twisting and coiling in his gut, about to burst any second now. This was extremely embarrassing, but he doubted Chan was present enough to care, and honestly, neither did he.
“Fuck, your mouth. It’s better than I ever imagined.” He panted, hips stuttering when Chan’s tongue flicked over his swollen clit.
When he noticed that Chan’s hands were uncontrollably groping his thighs, restlessly feeling him up, he snatched his wrists and pinned them above his head. Then, he moved up just a tad and hunched over, putting all of his weight forward on Chan’s hands. He started to grind his clit against Chan’s nose, eyes rolling back as only a second later, a tongue delved in, sloppily fucking him.
The orgasm hit him like a freight train, dissolving into a mess of pleasure whilst the heat prickled throughout his entire body. He cried out, legs spasming and thighs clamping on either side of Chan’s head as the aftershocks of the orgasm crashed through him. A few seconds later, after he managed to catch his breath, he moved away, releasing his hold.
His heart leaped to his throat once he looked down, taking in Chan’s wrecked state. His mouth and chin were completely drenched, panting heavily. Even though his arms were free, he did not dare move them.
“P-Please. Channie’s been good, hasn’t he? Please, pleasepleaseplease, I-” he touched Chan’s cheek, hushing his sobs, nodding in reassurement.
“So, so good. You made me feel amazing.” Jisung murmured against his reddened lips. “My pretty, perfect pup.”
Then, he slipped down and curled his fingers under Chan’s thighs, kneeling between them. “Can you hold them for me, baby? Just for a moment.” He coaxed, hands under Chan’s knees as he pushed them up, folding him in half.
Chan grabbed onto his legs obediently, holding his legs spread and open, and then blinked up at him with doe-like eyes. His eyes passed further over Chan’s dick and balls, lingering over his fluttering hole for a second.
Next time, he promised himself as he leaned further up and curled his fingers around Chan’s dick. He slid his folds over the length of it, coating it up before guiding the fat tip over his hole. With a thrust, he slid all the way in, taking Chan to the hilt. Chan sobbed, tears starting to stream down his cheeks, head twisting to the side. He wouldn’t last long, so Jisung leaned close and tightly gripped Chan’s ankles as leverage and started to fuck him, slamming his hips down and fucking himself on his cock.
He continued to heatedly whisper praises against Chan’s lips, never taking his eyes away from him, capturing every single reaction, engraving it into his mind and behind his eyelids.
When he sensed Chan tensing up, face twisting with pleasure, lips parting in a high-pitched keen, Jisung grabbed the cock by the base, slipping it out with an obscene sound. He vigorously jerked him off, keen eyes watching as Chan's stomach muscles flexed, body going taut a second later, spurts of cum spilling over his belly.
Chan looked ready to pass out any moment now, so he pushed away and tiptoed out of the room and into the bathroom to get wet towels. Once back, he thoroughly cleaned Chan, giving him a sweet kiss before urging him to go to sleep. A moment later, he was out cold. Jisung studied his peaceful, sleeping face with a fond smile. He reached over and tucked a tangled strand behind his ear, fingertips sliding down the side of his face.
"Sweet dreams, hyung."
When he woke up, the first thing he did was wash up and pop in his mouth the morning-after pill. Then, he threw a glance at his phone on the nightstand to check the time. Somehow having women up earlier than usual, he had some time to spare before they would need to get up. So, he crawled back on the bed, rested his jaw on his palms, and gazed at Chan's relaxed features.
Messy chair and puffy cheeks, lips slightly parted, breathing in and out. Jisung barely managed to restrain himself from reaching over and mushing Chan’s face with his hands, fighting back the cute aggression. His eyes softened, a warm wave gently swaying to and fro in his chest, his fingertips tingling. To have his hyung trusting him entirely to take care of him after all these years of denying them- he felt included. Whole.
Jisung loathed thinking of sex as something detrimental to their relationship because it wasn’t, but this was so much more than that. To provide for them the way he had always longed for. He couldn’t wait to explore himself with all of his boyfriends, to finally let go and, of course, get their cocks inside him, maybe two or three at the same time-
He thickly swallowed, heat pooling low in his gut. Alright, enough of that now. If his thoughts were to head down that path, he’d never be able to stop thinking about it and they had a tough day ahead of them.
“Are you going to keep staring for much longer?”
He blinked, coming face to face with Chan’s slowly blinking eyes peering up at him.
“Yes.” He said with a sweet smile. “There’s nothing else that matters.”
Chan whined and buried his face against the pillow. Jisung cooed and teased him, finally attacking him since he was awake, gluing himself over Chan’s side and throwing a leg over his waist.
“My hyungie,” he sighed dreamily, nuzzling against Chan’s jaw like a cat. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we should get going soon. It’s already 9am.”
He could see the cogs turning, the realization dawning, eyes widening as he shot up from the bed. “Jisung, why didn’t you wake me up? We were supposed to be at the studio an hour ago!”
For the rest of the day, Chan was particularly sensitive to touch and words of endearment. He would get distracted easily, struggling to stay focused as he monitored the recording sessions. Of course, they all noticed from the first hour in the studio, throwing inquiring looks towards Chan’s direction. The man in question tried to ignore them, flushing under the attention- even more so when Jisung managed to fleetingly catch his eyes, flashing him a sharp grin.
The elephant in the room was addressed later on in the evening when Chan made the third mistake in the first part of the choreography they were trying to learn. Minho walked up to the laptop that was connected to the installed speakers and abruptly stopped the instrumentals.
“Channie, love, would you be a dear and tell me what has been bothering you all day long?”
Chan wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, soaked shirt clinging to his skin. “It’s nothing.”
Minho smiled, foreboding and dangerous. Felix let out a low ‘uh-oh’ as Minho stalked up to Chan and seized his face with two fingers, digging into his cheeks.
“Is there any particular reason why you’re lying to me, pup?” Minho hummed, the harsh tenderness in his voice leaving no room for talking back. Chan fidgeted and stole a quick glance in his direction across the practice room, causing him to raise an eyebrow.
Was- was he asking for permission? For what, though? Before he could decipher the look inside Chan’s eyes, Minho narrowed his eyes, lips twisting into a frown.
“Easily distracted and nearly non-verbal. Pliant. Sensitive.” Minho remarked, turning Chan’s head to the side, piercing eyes inspecting him. “You only get like this after a scene or when you feel neglected. Have you been holding back on us?”
Chan shook his head- or tried to, considering Minho’s grip on him was firm and grounding, though Jisung couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t telling them about it. He suspected Chan was still feeling the lingering effects of last night (morning, more like). It was a wonder how Changbin and Hyunjin hadn’t caught wind of Chan’s whimpers considering the mix of worry and confusion on their faces, glancing back and forth between the two.
With a sigh, he stepped up and waved his hand dismissively at Minho. “Go easy on him, hyung. He got too much into his head yesterday so I had to fuck the thoughts out of him. He’s probably still feeling a bit floaty- isn’t that right, hyungie?”
Chan hesitantly nodded, cheeks rosy. With a cheeky grin, he walked up to them as Minho’s hand fell away in shock and gave Chan two gentle pats on his cheek. “Poor pup could barely do anything else other than whimper and snivel, so I folded him in half and fucked myself on his useless little cock.”
A choking sound, and then an outrageous- “What? ”
He turned to Hyunjin whose scarlet face was a mirror to Chan’s, but besides the arousal, there was underlying indignation and- hurt?
“But you... you said you didn’t feel comfortable doing any of- that with us.”
“I know, and that- well. It was the truth, to an extent, but I guess I failed to mention that I’m... good with it now. With everything.” He explained. Then, he paused, feeling playful all of a sudden. With a shit-eating grin, he hummed as he moved away and assumed his previous position in the formation for the choreography. “That’s if you truly believe you can live up to my expectations. Frankly, from what I’ve seen, I’m not that impressed.”
Silence. A thick silence that was pulled impossibly taut, almost able to taste the tension in the air. Just when he thought that he crossed the lines, anxiety starting to claw at his insides, unexpectedly, Changbin broke the silence.
“Let’s take it from the top.” He instructed, controlled and eerily cold.
A single glance in his direction was enough to have Jisung’s head snapping forward and his spine straightening in attention. Excitement and arousal stirred in his gut at the dark promise in Changbin’s eyes, resuming their practice with an overwhelming silence.
The following days were hell. Nobody touched him, nobody even came near him. Whenever he tried to initiate anything, they’d immediately put a stop to it. He was confused, and truthfully a tad hurt by their continuous rejections.
All it took for the meaning behind their mysterious actions to click in his head was an intense, muted look from Jeongin, the youngest seizing his wrists to restrain his wandering hands. They wanted him wanting and aching until he could no longer take it anymore. Until he was forced to admit defeat and come crawling to them with prepared pleads at the tip of his tongue.
Two can play this game, he thought as he snatched his hands back and settled on the couch, attention turning to the boring movie on the TV. These words, however, would soon return like a boomerang to bite him in the ass. If restraining himself before was near impossible, now that he had gotten a brief taste, it was hell. And this time, they gave him nothing. Since he acted so cocky, they decided to provide only that which would have him drooling for more.
A quick caress over his nape, fingers tugging at his ear, hands briefly gripping at his waist to move him to the side; everyday, normal touches that were followed by cunning eyes and sickeningly sweet smiles. Jisung tried to resist, to act as if he wasn’t at all bothered, but his self-control was rapidly waning.
Thankfully, because their schedule was extremely packed because of the comeback season, he barely had time to simmer in his breaking resolve.
“It’s a never-ending process, you know? Even when we get in a creative slump, or like, go through things that reset us in terms of progress, we push through and create. A lot of those lyrics might never actually be produced into a full song, but I think pouring everything out like that helps a lot.” Chan’s voice snapped him back to reality, nodding along at the genuine answer.
They’ve been doing a lot of shows and interviews, running from place to place- even several events during the same day. For this last sequence of the interview, they had to get up from their seats and line up close to each other, currently standing with Seungmin to his left and Felix to his right, though he had failed to pay much attention to what was going on. Discreetly, he quickly scanned the staff across them to confirm that nobody had caught on to his inattentiveness. This was their last for today, though, so he couldn’t wait to get this over with and go home to-
He jerked as a hand suddenly slithered over the curve of his back from his left side and dipped inside the waistband of his pants, palm splaying over the swell of his ass. Jisung was about to turn and tell Seungmin to knock it off, but then the fingers slipped between his cheeks, a pad teasingly brushing against his dry and tight hole, applying pressure against the rim.
Jisung yelped, blood rushing to his face as a few of the staff’s eyes snapped in his direction. He quickly thought to conceal the embarrassing sound with a cough, flashing a strained, apologetic smile at the camera. He reached back to wrench Seungmin’s hand away, only managing to graze a forearm with his fingertips before Felix’s arm shot out, snatching his wrist and pinning it against Jisung’s back.
He didn’t know how it looked on camera. Perhaps it seemed as if they were holding hands behind Jisung’s back- it wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last. The world was used to Felix being extra cuddly, so they most likely signed it off as that, seeing how he was putting up a sweet front by glancing at Jisung with a bright, innocent smile.
Jisung tested the waters by flexing his fingers and trying to twist his hand. Felix’s fingers around his wrist tightened, a vice-like grip that allowed no room for movement.
Then, Seungmin shifted his hand and slipped two fingers inside his cunt.
He painfully gritted his teeth, struggling to hold back any physical reaction. His breathing became heavier, his other, free hand clenched around the fabric of his pants. Then, Seungmin started to fuck him with his fingers; shallow, but fast and ceaseless thrusts, mindful not to move his hand too much. By doing so, though, he entirely focused on flicking his curled-up digits- fingers that repeatedly bumped over the spot deep inside him that drove him insane.
Almost too quickly, he got embarrassingly wet, able to feel himself throbbing and gushing. Unshed tears swam in his eyes, vision blurring at the staggering and horrifying realization of it because there was absolutely no way the squelching noise of Seungmin’s fingers fucking into his pussy couldn’t be heard. It was humiliating. Demeaning. Felix’s hold was the only thing grounding him, an anchor through the turmoil of emotions that burned in his chest. He knew the safeword, he knew very well the single-worded phrase that could put an end to all of this if he wished to, and yet-
And yet he wanted more- more of the sickening arousal that came with the searing humiliation of being in the spotlight, behind the lenses of several cameras panned to them, the staff unaware of what was taking place.
Suddenly, as he glanced to his left, his heart almost threatened to burst out of his ribcage, instinctively clenching down around Seungmin’s fingers when he came face to face with Changbin’s expectant smile. His mind short-circuited, coming to an abrupt screech.
“What do you think, Hannie?”
“Huh?” He said dumbly, voice cracking.
Changbin’s eyes flashed with something dark, razor-sharp as it brutally dug and cut into Jisung. “Ah, it seems like Jisungie’s quite distracted today, everyone. I wonder what he has on his mind- is it STAY? You womanizer.”
He cleared his throat and forced out a pathetic chuckle. “Hyung, stop revealing my se-” he inhaled sharply, almost choking on his saliva as Seungmin nudged the pad of his thumb against his rim again. “My- my secrets. You know I can’t help it- after all, STAY is one of the reasons why I keep producing songs and performing.”
They hooted and whistled, and he played along- tried to play along. He has no idea how he did it, but somehow, he managed to get through the interview. When they got into the cars and drove home, everybody acted as if nothing had transpired. Jisung tried to catch Seungmin’s and Felix’s eyes, but they merely avoided his eyes and gazed out of the windows like he wasn’t even there.
When they were back in their dorm, he followed Changbin into his room, getting annoyingly close to his face, and exploded. He should have noticed that his torment had only just begun when Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin, and Felix followed them up instead of heading over to their place for the night, but the sinful emotion of shame was still swirling in his chest, leaving him wanting more.
“What the fuck was that, Changbin? Did you tell them to do this? Your brilliant idea to get me to give in?” He ranted, jabbing his index finger against Changbin’s chest. “That was pathetic, even for you. Looks like you got really desperate.”
“Then you’ll have no problem if you keep this up, right? You did splendidly these past few days, what would a couple more weeks be? Perhaps months, even.” Changbin commented offhandedly in an innocent tone.
He knew Changbin was baiting him, wanting him to rise to the bait, but Jisung was mindless prey, weak-kneed, and pliant when it came to them. And as he heard several approaching footsteps from behind, he also knew that Changbin was not fucking around. If he continued to be so bullheaded, he did not doubt that his boyfriends would deny him the indulgence of their touch.
Thus, he deflated, losing his previous bravado. “I don’t...“ he trailed off and averted his eyes, the words leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “This is stupid. Why can’t we just forget-”
Before he could even hope to finish that sentence, Changbin seized him by the bicep and threw him on the bed. Caught completely off guard, he was helpless against the other pair of hands that pawed and grabbed at his jeans, yanking them off along with his underwear. In a flash, he was manhandled to his front, held down with both arms snatched behind his back whilst his legs were spread wide open.
“What was it that you called me? Pathetic? Desperate?” Changbin retorted harshly, able to taste the hungry grin on his face, his voice spiked with barely-restrained fury. “Look at you, you barely had two fingers in you and you’re already dripping. What a greedy little pussy.”
The impact landed over his clenching hole, hand heavy and rough, striking him with force. He made a strangled noise, muscles contracting as he flinched. The same hand groped a handful of his ass, roughly kneading for a few seconds before it slid inwards, fingers stroking his swollen clit in slow, torturous circles.
“Oh God,” he whispered, face buried against the bedsheets, and tried to push his hips back against those fingers, seeking the delightful friction. “I’m s-sorry, I-”
A cruel laugh rang in his ears, rattling his brain. “Oh, now you’re saying sorry? Dumb fucking whore can barely even think when his cunt is being played with, hm? So desperate you’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes, anything. Anything you want, just- please, hyung.”
The mattress dipped by his bed, fingers starting to soothingly card through his hair a moment later.
“Remember, you asked for this.”
He was ruthless. Slap after slap, fast and ceaseless, the force behind it reducing him into a writhing and crying mess. When he jerked and tried to squirm away, Changbin would drag him back in position by his hips. He switched between spanking Jisung’s ass, the back of his thighs, and over his pussy, then another pair of hands holding his ass open and exposed as Changbin’s fingers viciously licked over his holes with each strike.
Jisung has had many orgasms in his life before, but the way his stomach tightened, an increasing pressure that didn’t seem to stop as if someone was pumping into him, nearly feeling bloated from the overwhelming sensation. It was unfamiliar and scary. For a terrible moment, he felt like this sensation was frighteningly similar to peeing. He clenched down on nothing, struggling to hold it back, yet all it took for him to tip over the edge was Changbin’s hand smacking hard over his clit.
His whole body seized up as he gushed and gushed endlessly, eyes rolling back. Surrendering to the earth-shattering sensation that took control, he uncontrollably trembled, pitiful keens rumbling at the back of his throat. After what seemed like hours, when the erupting sensation started to subdue, he went limp, knees buckling.
Head turned to the side and sluggishly blinking his eyes open, that’s when he felt the wet and drenched sheets beneath him. Face and ears burning up, scorching humiliation gnawing at his chest at the realization that he had just pissed all over the fucking bed, he twisted in their hold, a pathetic attempt at hiding himself from the eyes that were drilling into him.
“N-No, no, don’t look, please don’t look, it’s- ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“Shh, calm down, angel. Deep breaths, there you go,” hands cradled him, tilting his head up, taking in Hyunjin’s warm smile. He clung onto Hyunjin as the other petted his hair, swiping back the sweaty, messy strands. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You were beautiful, simply perfect.”
Another body pressed up behind him, fingers caressing his hip. Then, those fingers trailed all the way up, grasping his jaw to guide his head to the side. “Was that your first time squirting, baby?” Minho whispered raggedly against his lips.
The question echoed in his head, slow into processing what he was told. Squirting. Was that what had just happened? His lips parted in shock, unable to find any responsive words. He had never thought his body was possible of doing that- he was aware that it was extremely dramatized in porn, but throughout his entire life, his orgasms were always more- mild. Never anything like this.
“Y-Yeah...“ he admitted sleepily, a yawn catching at his lips.
His body was already drained from a single orgasm. Usually, he could go for a few rounds, working up to three or four orgasms before it was too much for him, but he suspected the entire day’s exhaustion was pouring out right at that moment. His eyelids started to droop, though he was hardly fighting against the bone-deep fatigue. Without warning, a palm smacked his cheek twice, forcing him awake.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Alarm bells went off at the sight of Minho’s smile staring down at him, too cheerful, a false disguise of comfort. “We’re barely getting started.”
He was manhandled to their liking, head hanging upside down off the edge as Felix stepped up. Someone else found their way between his legs, giving him no time for rest as they plunged inside with a swift thrust, splitting him open. Felix cooed at the pathetic mewl that escaped his lips, grabbing himself from the base and slapping his dick over Jisung’s face. He smeared pre-cum over the bridge of his nose and cheeks, giving him another smack before he firmly cupped his neck and nudged the tip against his lips. He slowly slid in, feeding Jisung his cock until it was lodged down his throat. He gagged as he tried to swallow on instinct, wretched sounds filling up the room.
Whilst they began fucking into him from both ends, additional pairs of hands touched him, wandering over the expanse of his body; greedily groping, stroking, and kneading his flesh. A hand splayed over his stomach, sliding down, down, one hand parting his folds as two other fingers pinched his fat clit, trapped between blunt nails.
Felix curled his fingers around the front of his neck, squeezing to feel the imprint of his cock buried deep. Jisung’s body arched off the bed, hands weakly smacking against Felix’s thighs because he couldn’t breathe, he whined and keened around the cock stretching his lips wide, scraping against the soft, inner flesh of his throat, a terrible coughing fit overtaking him, hacking and heaving uncontrollably. Another slap across his face, though not too forceful to hurt too terribly, but enough to get their point across.
Felix clicked his tongue in frustration, “He won’t stop squirming.”
“Get him up.”
In the next second, they were pulling out and leaving him empty, so incredibly empty and cold, hands hauling him up and pushing him until he was laid on his side. His arms were once again yanked behind his back, leather cuffs fastening around his wrists, bound together- his ankles were given the same treatment, rendering him completely powerless.
After that, he was passed around between the seven of them. He was used as a mindless fuck-doll for their most animalistic pleasure, a fleshlight to stick their cocks into whilst he was ignored and forced to watch them heatedly make out and whisper sweet-nothings to each other.
“Do your work properly, hyung,” Jeongin complained as he took a fistful of his hair, forcing him to take his dick further in his mouth.
He tried, honest to god he tried, hollowing out his cheeks and dragging the flat of his tongue over the length of it as he bopped his head, but he couldn’t. With his hands tied behind his back, provided with no help, Jeongin’s dick would slip out several times and he’d try to clumsily take it back into his mouth, drowning in humiliation as mocking laughs pierced his ears at his pitiful attempts. He shyly peered up at Jeongin’s fond smile, eyes crinkling at the edges, watching him struggle.
A hand smacked sharply over his already-reddened and raw thigh, fingers gripping him by the hips, hauling him back on their cock. Jisung had lost count of how many times he came, yet as a thumb rubbed over his tight rim, finally giving attention to his ass by nudging and pushing the digit through his dry and without any prep hole, added with the delectable pain shooting up his spine, he lost himself to that same, splintering sensation for the second time in no more than an hour.
He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t make it stop, as if something was forcing everything out of him, a cascading waterfall that had no end. At one point, he was certain that he blacked out as he found himself groggily blinking awake to a warm body pressed underneath him, legs spread wide open and four fingers plunging inside his ass.
“Enjoyed your little break, Hannie?” Hyunjin murmured, silky smooth, and soothing. He lovingly pressed a palm over his cheek and Jisung immediately leaned into it, whimpering needily.
“H-Hyunie-”
Hyunjin hushed him, nodding. “It’s alright, angel. We got you. We’re gonna make you feel so good. Fill you up just the way you want.”
A hand hooked around the front of his neck and pulled till his neck was taut and his back arched painfully, snatching him away from Hyunjin’s comforting warmth. “Look at you, sucking in all four of my fingers. Even with Hyunjin’s cock filling up your cunt, your ass can still take more. What do you think,” Minho hot breath fanned over his face, wide grin pressed over his ear. “Should we try and see if you can take my entire hand at the same time?”
He frantically shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes. No, no, no, he wouldn’t be able to handle that, he wouldn’t- he’d break, they would rip him apart, there’s no way he could take it at the same time-
He keened in distress when Minho playfully nudged his thumb against his stretched rim, barely dipping the finger in, but enough to have him babbling and sniveling in protest.
“No?” Minho asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. He shuddered with relief as Minho pulled out his fingers and continued with a fake pout, “Fine, then. Perhaps another time.”
That, however, did not mean that Minho was done with him. He replaced his fingers with his cock, finding leverage on his ass as both Hyunjin and Minho started pounding into him. A hand sneaked between their bodies, fingers vigorously flicking over his overstimulated and sensitive clit, coaxing for what must have been the hundredth orgasm that night out of him. He sagged on top of Hyunjin, head lolling to the side whilst his entire body was jolted from each rough thrust. His thighs quivered, and at that point, he was full-on crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, completely out of it.
“Hm? What’s this? Puppy wants to play with Sungie, too?” Came Felix’s voice from somewhere to his right, distant and muffled against the raging storm in his ears, incapable of hearing anything else other than his skyrocketing heartbeat.
“I don’t know if you deserve it after you snuck around with Sungie behind our backs.” Felix hummed in thought, earning a needy whine from Chan. “Though, since you’ve been such a good boy lately, I suppose I can let you use his mouth, but that’s all you’ll get. Go on, then.”
A moment later, fingers pawed at his chin, hesitantly guiding his head up and to the side. Chan shakily smiled down at him, chewing on his lower lip once he awkwardly bumped the cockhead over Jisung’s lips. Immediately, he parted his lips and leaned forward, taking Chan into his mouth. Relaxing his throat as much as he could, he struggled against the cuffs holding his wrists together, urging Chan closer.
They didn’t make it easy. Felix plastered himself behind Chan’s back, and by the roll of his hips, a hand sliding over his chest, fingers digging in and pulling him back, meeting his thrusts, it was obvious that Chan’s attention was diverted. Then, Seungmin pressed against Chan’s side and wasted no further second into plunging his tongue inside, licking and tracing over every inch of his mouth.
The thrusts helped- as Felix slammed into Chan, his cock was pushed deeper into Jisung’s mouth, grazing every so often the back of his throat. Chan was the first to cum, hips stuttering and moaning loudly as he was fucked through his orgasm, spilling down Jisung’s throat. He tried to swallow, convulsing around the length as the tears and snot made it difficult to breathe, a violent set of coughs triggered when Chan eventually pulled away.
He lost grasp of his senses for a moment, but was still somewhat aware, as if detached, the events playing in the background as Hyunjin and Minho pull away from him. Fingers closing around the front of his neck, giving him a pointed squeeze was what managed to bring him back, breath hitching in his throat.
“You’re so loose,” Changbin grunted against his lips as he pistoned his hips forward, his cock sliding in with ease from the excess of fluids running down Jisung’s thighs. “Is this how much you can take? C’mon, clench down for me- shit.”
He struggled to comply and gather whatever amount of strength was left in him to clench his body, but he was barely clinging to consciousness as he was. Changbin grabbed the back of his thighs and folded him in half, pulling out until the tip of his dick was barely catching at his gaping hole before ramming down again.
“Should I fill up your pussy? Should we take turns filling you up? Filling your pretty holes till you’re choking on it. Till your belly will be round and heavy with our cum.”
Jisung let out a strangled sob, his body sizing up at the tidal wave of heat that crashed through him, wanting and wanting and needing, reduced into a stupid cocksleeve that was meant to be filled to the brim.
“Yeah? You want that? Gonna knock you up, and when it gives, we’ll still have you filled and plugged every night. Our sweet Jisungie. Our baby. Gonna give you a baby of your own, hm? Keep you here, all pliant and round with our unborn child inside you.”
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease-” he croaked wantonly, broken and desperate.
Changbin held him through it as he cried against his shoulder, his pace falling to something slow and deep, gently rocking forward. He hiccuped and sniffled, his body jerking sporadically. Through the blurriness in his vision, he could make out Changbin’s face; the fierce fondness in his eyes as he gazed at Jisung, overwhelming, bursting at the seams with it.
“I think you broke my- my pussy.” He whispered between pants, trying to catch his breath.
Changbin snorted, “That’ll teach you to disrespect me and my dick game, brat.”
“Y-You kidding? I’m never gonna get off your ass for this. Fuck,” he gasped as Changbin pulled out with a wet sound, feeling his cum trickling down his hole.
True to his promise, after they all filled and plugged him up, they fell asleep cuddled up in a pile. Throughout the entire night, Changbin remained pressed up behind him with his arm slung over his waist, hand protectively cupping his belly.