Archive of Our Own

Jisung wakes up slowly. There’s no sunlight outside, it must be very early. They always sleep with the windows slightly open, a habit that Jisung refuses to change even during late october. The cold gives him a perfect excuse to stay in bed and snuggle Minho longer.

He feels around for the familiar warmth, but is only met by cold bed sheets. As he blinks his eyes open, he finds the bed empty aside from their thick blankets and various plushies.

Minho can’t seriously be awake already. Jisung’s phone reads six a.m., and there’s no new messages from Minho, so he can’t be out early for work.

Jisung begrudgingly decides to leave the comfort of the blankets, lazily putting on one of Minho’s shirts and shorts on the way out of the room. He yawns as he shuffles to the living room. 

“Good morning,” he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep, and walks to the couch to knock his knees against Minho.

“Up so early?” Minho asks, attention focused on his phone. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, his fluffy hair softly frames his face and sticks out on the sides. 

“You were up earlier.” Jisung runs his fingers through Minho’s hair in an attempt to tame it. He contemplates sitting on Minho’s lap and going back to sleep. 

He shouldn’t though. Waking up earlier than usual is a blessing in disguise when working from home. If he finishes early, he can pick up Minho after his dance lessons, and help him destress. 

Minho’s shoulders do look kind of stiff today. Jisung could bring him to a drive-through, get some burgers, and give him sloppy head in the car. Yeah, that’ll help him relax. He’ll surprise him with that.

He plants a kiss on Minho’s forehead, like he always does in the mornings. Minho cups his cheek and gives him a chaste kiss on the lips. 

“You want breakfast?” he asks, and takes Jisung’s wrist to press his lips against it. 

Jisung tries to not melt into the touch. “Yes, please.” 

It’s been around a year since they moved in together, and it has to be the best decision they’ve made so far. He swears he could get high off of domesticity only.

“I have to tell you something then, okay?” Minho says.

Jisung nods, then leaves Minho on the couch to get himself a glass of water. There’s no cats littering the floor, so he assumes they’re still in their room. They’re also not used to waking up this early.

He boots up his PC in his office slash makeshift studio, and tiptoes to the bathroom to freshen up. A splash of cold water should help him wake up.

“Hey,” Minho says, hugging him from behind. 

“You gonna shower?” Jisung pats his face dry with a soft towel.

“No, gonna make you breakfast.” Minho presses his lips against Jisung’s nape. “Let’s talk after then.”

“Sure.” Jisung is a little confused that Minho said it twice, but it doesn’t matter much, as his attention shifts to Minho’s warm breath against him, and the hand on his stomach that’s trailing lower.

He swats the hand away with a smile. 

“Breakfast first,” he says. 

Minho shrugs and stops. He leaves the bathroom, and Jisung notes that he’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Weird.

A quick shower later, Jisung uses a towel in a lazy attempt to dry his hair on the way back to the living room.

“Let’s just flip a coin,” Jisung hears Minho say.

“Mmh?” Jisung says.

“No. Jisung should choose,” Minho says.

“That makes no sense. He’s biased,” Minho says.

“Yes. Towards me,” Minho says.

“Towards me,” Minho says.

Jisung rips the towel away from his head, eyes going wide.

“Minho?”

Two Minhos turn to look at him, both with icy glares. Jisung represses the urge to squeak.

He rubs his eyes with the back of his hands until he sees stars. When he opens them again, there’s still multiple Minhos standing in the living room. Staring him down.

“What the fuck?” 

“Jisung,” they both say in unison. 

Jisung’s mind races. His brain fumbles as it tries to compute the scene in front of it– There’s no smoke and mirrors around, yet undoubtedly, two Minho’s blink at him. 

It doesn’t make sense. This is impossible, and he barely grasps onto his sanity, and it doesn’t make sense– until it suddenly does. 

This makes perfect sense, actually.

“Oh. This is a dream!” Jisung says. “Of course it’s a dream.”

The Minhos share a look, and somehow it’s the most comical thing ever. 

Jisung laughs. He bends in half, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Minho takes his hand and brings him to the couch. Jisung sits down, his insides hurt from the constant laughter, but he can’t stop. Minho presses himself beside him, and soothes a hand over his back. 

Another Minho brings him a glass of water. Jisung’s hands shake too much to hold it steady, so Minho helps him drink. He then also presses himself beside Jisung.

It takes some time, but with two warm bodies pressed against him, his laughter fizzles out.

“I.. I’m dreaming, right?” Jisung asks, breathily.

“Yes.” 

“No.”

Jisung huffs at the different answers. It’s silly, but it calms him down.

“Alright. Okay, I’m back,” he says and takes a steadying breath.

Minho holds his hand. Minho puts his head on Jisung’s shoulder. 

They’re eerily quiet.

“It’s creepier if you don’t speak,” Jisung says. “Earlier you said you wanted to talk. Please tell me it was about this.” He turns to his left and looks at Minho. At one of them.

“Yeah, it was,” that Minho answers. 

“It’s a little late to tell me about your evil twin brother, don’t you think?” Jisung can’t help but poke Minho’s cheek. He’s definitely Minho. Jisung would recognize those sharp cheekbones and that slope of his nose anywhere. 

The Minho on his other side laughs. 

“Would you still love me even if I had an evil twin brother?” The Minho in front of him asks. It makes Jisung grin.

“Of course.”

“Good. But this is not that kind of situation.”

“Okay. So.. What’s happening?” 

“I don’t– We don’t know,” the Minho on the other side says. He has the same face, obviously, plump lips and feline eyes matching the ones Jisung fell in love with, many years ago. Jisung pokes him on the chest, and finds that he’s real, too. “We woke up like this.”

“Okay.” Jisung understands that it’s real, yet still, it feels surreal. He’s probably still hysterical, but his brain switches to problem solving mode. “First things first. How do I know none of you are aliens?”

“I’d tell you if I was an alien. You made me promise to tell you if I am,” Right-Minho says.

Jisung nods along. He did make Minho promise him, and Right-Minho remembering that must mean that he’s most likely not an alien.

He turns to Left-Minho and waits.

Left-Minho thinks for some moments, then grins. “Remember our first time? Remember when you–”

Jisung immediately brings a palm to that Minho’s mouth, silencing him. 

“Yes I fucking remember. Stop bringing it up,” he says, heating up. 

Right-Minho giggles. “You said ‘thanks bro’ after I made you cum.”

“I’ll kill you both,” Jisung says while cringing. Minho really makes sure he never forgets. 

He puts his hand down and sighs in annoyance. At least they’re both not aliens. (He’s a little disappointed.)

“Only kill one of us,” Left-Minho says. 

“Huh?”

“Yeah, we figured if we’re clones, one of us will have to die eventually. Like in the movies,” Right-Minho says.

“What? Minho, that’s insane,” Jisung says.

“That’s what I said,” Left-Minho says. “Instead, I think you should decide which one of us gets to live. It’s only fair.”

“Shut up, both of you.” Jisung stands up. “None of you are going to die.”

They both shrug. 

Jisung fully accepts that they’re both really Minho. The relief gives him enough strength to further work on the problem. 

“We need different names so I can distinguish you,” he says. It gives him a headache to refer to them both as Minho. “Any ideas?”

Both Minhos put their hands up.

“And no, you can not be called Changbin.”

Both Minhos put their hands down.

Jisung laughs. This is very silly. 

“Okay. Then you,” Jisung points at Minho with the shorts. “You’re Minho.” He points at Minho with the sweatpants. “And you’re Lino.”

They nod, and Jisung sighs. 

He puts his hands on his hips and gives them both a good lookover. It’s strange to see the exact same person twice, as they don’t have slight differences like twins. His brain struggles to comprehend it, but it feels more real by the second. 

The stress is starting to get to him, though. His neck and back are so stiff that he might be due for a massage.

“Honey, you’re handling this so well,” Lino says and smiles sweetly.

“Thank you. This is extremely stressful,” Jisung says. He didn’t get much sleep, his entire worldview changed, and he has to rethink his entire plans for today, so maybe he should simply go back to bed.

How are Minho and Lino so calm about this? 

“Lino, go make breakfast. I’ll take care of Sungie,” Minho says and pats his thighs. “Come sit on my lap.”

Jisung steps over to him–

“Excuse me? I think you should make breakfast,“ Lino says and grips Jisung’s wrist, pulling him towards him. “I’ll take care of my baby,”

Jisung has a bad feeling about this.

“The fuck? He’s mine,” Minho says, and grips Jisung’s other wrist. 

Sparks fly between their angry gazes at each other. The air fills with heavy tension, and it’s eerily quiet again.

Jisung finds himself standing between two very angry panthers.

“You.. You can share?” he says, meekly.

“Fuck no,” Minho says.

“I’d rather die,” Lino says.

Jisung always thought that the world would be a better place with more Minhos. He comes to realize that he never meant that literally, because Minho’s own world is not a better place with more Minhos. 

How could Jisung forget that Minho is extremely possessive? 

He thought they dealt with that. Moving in together has worked wonders for Minho’s irrational fears, and Jisung has proven time and time again that there is only one man, one person, one soulmate for him: Lee Minho. 

Well. Now there are two. 

If Jisung were to wake up with a clone of himself next to him, he would fuck himself immediately. No questions asked, like any normal person would.

But Minho has always been a little weird. Jisung loves him for that. 

“Jisung, tell us who you prefer,” Minho says.

“Who should make breakfast?” Lino asks.

Both their grips tighten on Jisung’s wrists. 

“I– I– You’re both the same person, I can’t–” 

“Choose,” they say in unison, sending a shiver down Jisung’s spine.

Jisung loves him– Loves them– But he fears he might not survive this.

“Keep me out of this,” he says, pulling his hands out of their grasps, and stumbling backward. They both give him concerned looks as he sits on the floor and crosses his arms. “You two decide how to deal with this.”

Minho and Lino lock eyes.

“Without killing each other,” Jisung feels the need to add.

Lino is sitting cross legged, both legs on the couch. Minho has one leg crossed over the other, leaning against the armrest. 

Their hair falls in the same direction, looking ruffled, as it always does in the mornings.

Jisung can’t stop trying to find a difference between them, despite knowing that they’re the same. Even their nails, which Jisung painted matte black a few days ago, are chipped in the same places.

“Alright,” Minho says eventually. “We’re both thinking the same thing anyway.”

“Are we?” Lino asks.

“Yep. I’ll kill you if you touch him.”

“Likewise.”

At least they agree on something.

“Why do they choose to punish me?” Jisung grumbles and logs into work. Looks like he’ll have to bother the cats for affection more than usual until the problem solves itself.

He should be able to survive not being touched for a while, as it’s not like they’re new to not having sex. He flies abroad and stays for weeks sometimes, and sometimes Minho is busy practicing choreography with his groups before their comebacks, which often leaves him exhausted for days– Therefore, he’ll be fine.

He leans back in his chair, and prepares to take his mind off of sanity-breaking shenanigans by listening to the songs from yesterday. They’re fine, nothing groundbreaking. Jisung quickly accepts that nothing in the real world will feel as groundbreaking as what he witnessed today. 

Minho brings him breakfast an hour later. 

Jisung accepts the plate of food with a smile. “Thank you, Minho.”

“It’s Lino.”

“Oh. How did you decide who goes to work?”

“Good old rock paper scissors. Took ages until one of us won.”

“I see.” Jisung spins in his chair, facing Lino. “Say, why can’t you get along with Minho? You know you two are my favorite person in the world.” 

“Oh honey.” Lino ruffles Jisung’s hair. “I may be your favorite, but that guy gets on my fucking nerves. I seriously don’t know how you put up with me. Us.” He frowns when he says it. 

Jisung gives him a light shove. 

“I don’t just ‘put up’ with you. I love you, Lino,” he says. “Why else would I move in with you?”

“For the cats.”

Jisung giggles. “Don’t tell them, but they were only my second reason.”

Lino leans down and kisses Jisung on the lips. Jisung’s eyes go wide.

“We– We shouldn’t–”

“It’s ok Jisung, it’s just a kiss,” Lino whispers between their lips, then presses them together again. Jisung can’t help but move his lips against him, savoring the sweet snack. 

Lino pulls away too soon, leaving Jisung squirming in his seat. It’s probably for the best. Jisung wouldn’t want to be the reason that he and Minho do actually kill each other. 

“I have time to cook today,” Lino says. “Any special wishes for dinner?”

They both have been too busy with work to commit to cooking dinner, with Jisung working overtime on his projects, and Minho staying long hours in the dance studio. Minho’s home cooked meals are the best, and Jisung’s giddy at the offer.

“I’m happy with anything,” he says.

Lino steals another kiss, and this time Jisung feels a hint of tongue. It’s brief, but it’s enough to leave him wanting more. 

Luckily, Lino leaves before Jisung does anything stupid. His arousal quickly turns into guilt, and he swears that that was just a one time thing.

He spends the next few hours focused on his work. 

At some point Lino refills his water, at another point he brings a blanket and wraps it around Jisung to keep him cozy. Jisung whispers thank you, honey , hoping it doesn’t get picked up by his microphone, but Changbin teases him about it.

Dori comes to greet him inside his office, and sits on his keyboard for a while. His warm, furry body convinces Jisung to log off for the day, as he can’t work with a fluff ball right under his fingertips.

On the way to the living room, Jisung expertly avoids a lounging Doongie. There’s a grocery bag on the kitchen counter, and Lino is setting bowls and ingredients on the kitchen island. 

“Cooking already?” Jisung asks.

“Already? It’s evening, did you work until now?” Lino asks.

Jisung is confused until he looks at their clock. That it’s almost seven explains why he’s starving, and why his back is extremely stiff. 

“Chan and I worked on a guide. Didn’t feel like stopping until we were done,” he says while stretching.

“You work too much,” Lino says, shaking his head. “Maybe I should quit my job and become your stay at home husband.” He pulls Jisung close by the waist.

Jisung giggles and kisses him, wrapping his arms around Lino’s neck, easily losing himself in a romantic domestic fantasy of being husbands one day. Rain patters against the windows, Soonie meows from the couch, and a hand grabs Jisung’s ass–

The sound of the front door opening brings Jisung back to reality. He jumps out of Lino’s hold, and stares at him with wide eyes.

A few hours of normal work life were enough to forget something very vital. 

“Shh,” Lino says with a finger against his smile. 

Jisung nods and presses his lips in a thin line. He leaves Lino in the kitchen, and walks over to greet Minho. 

It’s weird feeling guilty about kissing his boyfriend– Feeling scared of his boyfriend finding out. There’s a layer of excitement in this cocktail of emotions, but Jisung has no time to examine that one.

Instead, he bites his tongue to prevent the apologies from slipping out. 

“I’m home,” Minho says, in Japanese, as he always does.

“Welcome home,” Jisung replies, in Japanese, as he always does.

“Is Lino here?”

“Uh, yeah. Cooking.” 

“‘Kay,” Minho says, and doesn’t kiss Jisung, like he usually always does.

Jisung is relieved. Jisung is disappointed. 

Jisung is very tired. He should go take a nap, wait for food to be done, and convince both of them to watch a movie with him. 

They haven’t even tried to get along yet, so all can’t be lost. Jisung could convince them to get along, if he tries hard enough. He could fix them, he tells himself.

Minho takes off his jacket and shoes, then greets Soonie on the couch. Soonie doesn’t freak out about seeing another Minho in his life– He bumps his head against Minho’s palm and purrs without a care in the world. 

If only it were that simple for Jisung. He doesn’t miss the way Lino stares daggers into Minho’s back. 

“I’m going to take a nap,” he says. “Wake me up for dinner. And please behave.”

Lino hums in acknowledgement.

“I’ll take a shower,” Minho says.

They walk together through the hallway, and Minho nudges his foot against the lounging Doongie in greeting. Jisung enters their bedroom– Except that no, he doesn’t, because Minho grabs him, puts a hand on his mouth to muffle his surprised squeal, and drags him inside the bathroom. 

Jisung’s back is pressed against a cold surface. He hears the lock turning. 

Minho cages him against the bathroom door and lowers his palm.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung says, fearing that Minho immediately read on his face that he cheated on him.

“Jisungie, I said I’m home,” Minho says.

Jisung blinks. “W–Welcome home?” 

Minho kisses him.

Oh.

So this is that kind of situation.

Fingers glide under Jisung’s shirt, making him gasp. Minho deepens the kiss, tongue sliding in without hesitation, pinching Jisung’s nipple harshly and muffling his moan. 

Jisung can barely breathe from the force. The need for air makes him turn his face to the side, breaking the kiss and gasping for breath.

He’s being way too loud. Lino will hear them.

“Minho, we can’t–” His plea turns into a whimper when Minho moves to lick his neck, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses. 

“We can.” Minho’s breath tickles Jisung’s throat. “He won’t hear us if you’re quiet.”

Jisung wants to laugh, because Minho is fucking with him. He knows Jisung is never quiet.

Jisung hates him so much. Jisung loves him so much. He wants to give into the pleasure–

Teeth brush lightly against his neck.

“Don’t leave marks,” Jisung hisses out, voice wavering from the leg that pushes in between his. 

Minho huffs, and faces him again. His pouting expression would be cute if there wouldn’t be a nail digging into Jisung’s nipple, dragging down to his waist, and sinking into his shorts. 

“I’ll bite your thighs then. He won’t see them there,” Minho says, holding onto the waistband, waiting for permission.

Jisung would be digging his grave even further if he were to accept. He keeps his mouth closed, too overwhelmed with need to make a rational decision.

He wishes he could accept– Lino already worked him up earlier, and Minho is not making it any better– but he has to be the bigger person. 

Remember the goal, Jisung. Make them befriend each other so that you don’t feel guilty about fucking them both. 

Jisung’s head hurts with how needy and desperate he is. This isn’t really his fault, and Minho should know himself better than that! Of course they both would be all over him– How did Jisung ever imagine a world where Minho doesn’t lay his hands on him whenever he pleases?

His thoughts aren’t helping, he’s getting hornier by the second. 

Minho licks his lips and smiles– That bastard. He knows what he’s doing, he always does. Jisung’s thighs tremble at the sight of teeth. 

“Fine, alright, but do it fast–” 

Jisung’s breath hitches as faint scratching against the door cuts him off.

Minho kisses Jisung’s forehead. 

“This will stay between us,” he says and pats Jisung’s cheek, then unlocks the door, letting Jisung out. 

Dori is waiting outside to be greeted by Minho. 

Jisung shuffles into their bedroom, glancing to the living room nervously, hoping Lino didn’t see or hear any of that.

He flops onto their bed and yells into a pillow. 

He really wasn’t made for cheating. 

Jisung’s eyes flutter open. 

“Baby, wake up. Food’s done,” Minho says. 

“Five more minutes,” Jisung mumbles into Minho’s pillow as he’s gently nudged. He’s lying on his stomach, and he can’t help but move his hips when he inhales vanilla cologne. “Hhnn..”

“Oh. I see.” Minho straddles the back of Jisung’s thighs– It prevents him from grinding further. “Would you like a massage?” 

Minho doesn’t know how to massage– It pops Jisung’s sleepy bubble, immediately making him realize that he’s hard, and Minho’s added weight doesn’t make the situation better.

They’ve already kissed without the other Minho knowing. Jisung really shouldn’t let him go further.

“Ah, thank you, I’m good– I think,” Jisung says.

“You sure?” Minho’s hands trail Jisung’s back and shoulders, crotch pressed against his ass. 

Jisung is not sure.

“Yeah Minho, I’m sure,” Jisung partially moans out.

“It’s Lino,” Lino says, voice close to Jisung’s ear. ”Don’t get it wrong again.”

“O–Okay.” Jisung’s cock twitches as he shivers. That was a threat. 

“I can’t let you go out there while you’re hard though,” Lino says. He places a palm on Jisung’s back and presses him further into the bed. Jisung whimpers. “Minho won’t be able to control himself. I know him.”

None of them are able to control themselves. 

“I’ll– I’ll be fine– I’ll come out in a few minutes, promise,” he says, voice muffled.

“Hm, If you say so.” Lino definitely doesn’t miss the way Jisung pushes his ass back teasingly. Curse Jisung’s conscience and libido for not being on the same page– Luckily, Lino plants a kiss on Jisung’s nape, and stands up. 

That was easier than Jisung thought. Maybe he can actually survive this–

Lino slaps Jisung’s ass, making him yelp, then giggles and leaves the room.

Jisung is absolutely not going to survive this.

Jisung is sitting at the dining table, stuffing his mouth full with bulgogi, eyes darting between Lino to Minho. He doesn’t know which one is nudging his foot under the table.

Lino is wearing a black t-shirt, Minho is wearing a black hoodie. There is literally nothing else that differentiates them. 

They’re sitting in silence, occasionally throwing annoyed looks at each other.

How can Jisung make them get along? Since they’re the same person, they have to have everything in common, right?

Cooking might be a good starting point.

“Thank you for cooking, Lino. It was delicious,” Jisung says. 

“You’re welcome,” Lino says. “I tried a new recipe–”

“Should’ve added more gochujang,” Minho cuts in.

Lino crosses his arms. “I added more than what the recipe called for.” 

“I’m right and you know it.” Minho points his chopsticks at Lino. “Admit it.”

“Fuck off.”

Angry sparks fly between them again. 

“Come on Minho, be nice. He cooked for us,” Jisung chides.

“Yeah Minho, be nice,” Lino repeats, shit-eating grin on his face. Minho gives him the middle finger.

Jisung suddenly fully understands how Hyunjin feels. Working in a kindergarten must be exactly like this. He also realizes that Minho would have been the most annoying brother ever, if he had siblings. The universe made the right decision by making him an only child.

Jisung quickly changes topics.

“How about we watch a movie?” He says, trying to break some of the tension. He collects the dishes and brings them to the sink.

When he walks to the couch, Lino is sitting on the left-most side and Minho on the right, leaving a ton of space between them.

Knowing better, Jisung flops down in the middle. He grabs the remote and navigates to a horror movie list. If cooking didn’t work, maybe this might. They should both be pleased with the selection.

They’re not. They immediately fight over which movie to watch. After some minutes, Jisung picks a random one to end their squabble. 

It ends up being a very creepy movie. Usually he has Minho to cuddle with when it gets scary, but this time he’s by himself as he hides under the cover at the next jumpscare. 

Lino and Minho laugh at his reaction. Of course they’d find common ground at Jisung’s expense.

“How do we decide who gets to sleep with him?” Minho asks after the movie ends. 

“Rock paper scissors again,” Lino says.

“Took an hour last time–”

“What the fuck,” Jisung interrupts them. “I just watched a creepy movie, basically by myself because none of you want to touch me.” He throws a pillow at Lino and his blanket at Minho. “You’re both going to sleep with me.”

They grumble and pout, but they don’t argue. So it’s settled. 

Jisung showers hoping it washes away the stress in his back. It doesn’t.

Lino uses the shower after him. 

When they sleep, they usually only use two blankets, but it’s best to prepare extra bedding to prevent potential fights. Jisung moves their plushies off the bed, stashing them in the closet, freeing up space for a third. Their bed is queen sized, so it should fit them all comfortably even if it gets a little cozy. 

Jisung leaves the window wide open for tonight, then spends two minutes contemplating whether he should sleep in only his boxers. As he usually does. 

His guts tell him yes. His very horny guts tell him yes. 

Jisung is a weak man, so he takes off his clothes and settles in the middle of the bed.

He scrolls his social media to check on Jeongin’s page, catching up on his new posts, when Minho lies down beside him. He’s shirtless, and only in his boxers.

Jisung doesn’t need to look away from his phone to know that Minho’s eyes are trained on his bare arms and chest. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Whatever. Future Jisung will deal with it.

Still, he shows Minho a video of a cat to mellow any urges. It works wonders.

“Minho, why can’t you and Lino get along?” Jisung asks, lying on his side to face Minho. 

Minho looks at the ceiling in thought. 

“He’s just like me,” he says.

“That’s because he is you.”

“Exactly.”

“Shouldn’t you two be the besties then? I know that I would be with my own clone.”

Minho pinches Jisung’s cheek. “That’s because you’re nice, and kind, and charming.” 

“You’re also–”

“No, not like you. And then I wake up, and there’s another man that’s all up in my business,” Minho continues, frowning. “All up in my Sungie. He’s also fucking annoying. I seriously don’t know how you put up with me. Us.”

Jisung laughs. He made this observation multiple times, but they really are the same.  

“I don’t just put up with you. I love you, Minho,” he says, just to even out the playing field. He wouldn’t want either Minho to feel neglected. 

This time, when Minho kisses him, it’s expected. He doesn’t feel terribly guilty about it, deciding that it’s only fair to give both Minhos kisses and cuddles while the other isn’t looking– That way he will hopefully keep them satisfied and enriched, while avoiding upsetting the other.

He rationalizes his reasoning by comparing it with their cats; Minho and Jisung always strive to give equal attention to all of them.

Yep. For equality. No other reason.

Lino joins them in bed, hair freshly dried and shirtless.

They snuggle in their respective blankets and Jisung is surprised that they’re not starting any fight. Maybe this can actually work out! 

The problem is that Jisung finds himself flanked by two of the most attractive men on earth. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing that happened to his libido. He will have to resort to fucking himself silly with a dildo in his office room tomorrow. 

Maybe it’s also time to buy some sex toys for Minho. Minho isn’t the biggest fan of those for himself, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Jisung might want to contact Seungmin about that.

“Mmhh.. Ah,” Jisung moans. 

He’s not just surrounded by his blanket, someone’s chest is pressed against his back, the skin to skin contact feels scorching.

“Fuck.” Jisung throws his head back, suddenly overwhelmed with pleasure. His hips buck into the tight fist around his cock. “W–What are you doi– nnngh–” 

Minho thrusts into him, hitting so deep that Jisung chokes on his words.

“Shh, be quiet,” he whispers in his ear. “You don’t want him to find out, do you?”

Ah. If it isn’t the consequences of Jisung’s own actions. 

He should have worn a hoodie to sleep. As if that would have stopped Minho. Or Lino? Oh no, Jisung doesn’t know which one it is.

His boxers were pulled to his thighs, restricting his movement, not allowing him to get away.

Jisung feels helpless.

Just as he likes it. Exactly as he likes it. How the fuck should he be quiet?

He bites his tongue and swallows the noises that threaten to spill out. Lewd squelching fills the otherwise quiet room, slow and controlled thrusts make Jisung’s legs spasm, turning him into a squirming mess.

Minho fucks him with ease. Jisung is so full, stretched out, and wet– He must have been fingered open while he slept. The thought of that turns him weak instantly.

He goes pliant, allowing Minho to do whatever he wants. Minho knows exactly how to take care of him. The hand on his cock matches the speed of the thrusts, making Jisung’s head spin.

Jisung grasps Minho’s wrist tightly, his other hand grips his pillow.

His eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, and he finds the other Minho’s back right in front of him– A strangled whimper escapes him.

“Careful, baby,” Lino whispers, tickling Jisung’s nape. 

Jisung swears that this has to be Lino. This is the worst time to figure out the one distinguishing feature between the two Minhos. 

He doesn’t have time to confirm it, because the Minho in front of him moves. 

He inhales sharply. Lino presses his cock in deep, and slows down to a painfully slow stroke.

Minho turns to face Jisung, eyes fluttering open.

“Sungie?” he mumbles sleepily, looking so sweet and soft with his tousled hair.  

Jisung’s cock throbs in Lino’s hand. 

He’s going to hell.

“H–Hey,” He manages, digging his nails into Lino’s wrist, feeling himself clenching around Lino’s cock. He hopes Minho can’t see the sweat on his forehead. “It’s late. Go back to sleep, ye– ah?”

“Mmmkay,” Minho says, and reaches for Jisung’s hand that was on the pillow. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his face against Jisung’s wrist.

Jisung’s heart jumps. He doesn’t deserve this gorgeous creature. 

Minho is adorable, Jisung loves him so much. 

Lino digs his thumb into Jisung’s slit harshly.

Minho is the devil, Jisung hates him so much.

“You asshole,” Jisung curses under his breath when he’s sure that Minho is asleep again, then moves his hips back into the sensation. He may be going to hell, but he is definitely going to come.

Lino doesn’t give a verbal response. Mercifully, he snakes an arm underneath Jisung and places his palm on his mouth before he sets a punishing pace.

Jisung breathes through his nose, drooling all over Lino’s hand. He knows he won’t last long– Not with Lino’s cock filling him up, while Minho’s angelic face is right in front of him. He’s only quiet because he’s forced to be.

Jisung’s toes curl as he bucks into Lino’s fist, chasing his pleasure. He cups Minho’s cheek, and promises to apologize to him tomorrow, then he glides his thumb along plush lips– 

Teeth sink into Jisung’s shoulder, making him cum with a muffled cry. Jisung’s body shakes from the waves of pleasure, leaving him wiggling pitifully in Lino’s hold as he strokes him through it.

Lino laughs against his back, then sucks and nips more bruises into his skin.

Now it’s confirmed that it’s Lino. Jisung told Minho he should not leave any marks. 

Lino keeps using Jisung to get himself off, breathing heavily against his back, and sliding his fingers past Jisung’s lips to fuck his mouth at the same pace of his hips. Jisung obediently licks his own cum off, knowing Lino likes it like that.

Internally, he laughs at himself for ever thinking a sex toy could satisfy any Minho. Jisung is the best one there is, and Minho wouldn’t settle for anything less– How would Minho react if he were to wake up, and see Jisung being used by himself?

Jisung digs his thumb into Minho’s partially open mouth, hitting his teeth. 

Lino groans softly into Jisung’s ear as he comes. Through the haze of pleasure, Jisnug is offended that they’re using a condom.

Jisung’s eyelids grow heavy. He tastes salt on his tongue and feels teeth on his fingertips as he slips back into sleep.

This is fine. This is perfectly fine, actually. He’ll just kill them both! That way he doesn’t have to deal with their wrath.

It’s morning, Jisung overslept. He’s brushing his teeth and glaring at the dark purple bruises on the back of his shoulder. 

There’s no way that he won’t be found out. Minho fucking loves hugging and holding him from behind, especially kissing his neck. Killing both Minhos and committing harakiri is the only logical solution.

He puts on his gray zip-up sweater and props up the high neckline, hoping that it’ll hide the bruises for now. Then he tiptoes timidly out of the bathroom and hopes that the guilt isn’t too obvious on his face. 

“Jisungie.”

Jisung startles and expertly trips over a lounging Doongie. He braces himself for his face to hit the floor, but it never does. It hits Minho’s sturdy chest instead.

Minho laughs at him. “Are you good?”

As soon as their eyes meet, Jisung’s face heats up from the memories of what he did in the early morning. The sheer thought of it turns him on again. 

“I have never been more fine than at this current moment right now at nine twenty-six am,” he says, completely normally.

He then runs towards his office extremely normally too. 

He doesn’t get far– His face and chest are pressed against his office door before he can open it. 

This might be the only actual normal thing throughout this interaction. 

“What’s wrong, Sungie?” Minho asks, amused. 

“Nothing is wrong,” Jisung lies. “I’m– I just– I’ll just log into work–”

“No you won’t.”

“I.. I won’t?”

“Uh-huh,” Minho says, and hugs Jisung. “You’re feeling sick. You’ll call off of work.”

Jisung is not sick. But Jisung is weak. Especially when Minho uses that voice.

“But what about Lino?” It’s a weak retort.

“He won’t know.” Minho turns Jisung to face him, and kisses him on the lips. “You won’t tell him.”

Jisung shudders. He’s very weak. Without further question, he takes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Minho. Then he sinks down on his knees, keeping eye contact as he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. 

This has to count as some kind of apology. Evening out the playing field, and such.

“My Jisungie is so desperate for cock already?” Minho unlocks the phone and starts typing.  “It’s barely been two days.”

He has the audacity to act nonchalant and unbothered, as if he isn’t the one that’s fucking insatiable. 

Jisung loves him for that.

He nods in response, then watches hungrily how Minho unbuckles his belt one-handed, and pops the buttons of his pants. The zipper is pulled down at a torturously slow pace. 

Minho is already hard, the outline of his cock is enough to drive Jisung crazy. He’s taking his sweet fucking time typing out that message to Chan. 

Jisung puts his hands behind his back and clenches his fists tightly. He waits patiently– Waits patiently because he knows this is how Minho likes it. 

Finally, Minho puts the phone in his back pocket and looks down at Jisung. Drool runs down Jisung’s chin from all the anticipation.

“So needy,” Minho tuts, then pulls off his briefs to hold the base of his cock. He slides it across Jisung’s cheek, like the tease that he always is. 

But Jisung has been good. Good and patient, so the tease doesn’t last long. Soon, Minho pushes into Jisung’s waiting mouth, and allows him to coat his cock with saliva. Jisung doesn’t suck yet, he savors the taste, smearing spit all over his length sloppily. He knows Minho likes watching him be messy.

Jisung loses himself in the pleasure. He loves how heavy Minho’s cock feels on his tongue, but he quickly finds himself needing more. 

“What do you want?” Minho asks him, so finely attuned to his wants.

Jisung answers with his mouth still full.

Minho laughs at him. “You want me to fuck you,” he says, and Jisung nods. 

Minho must be pleased, because he slides out of Jisung’s mouth and crouches down to pick him up in his arms. 

“Alright. I think I’ll bend you over the couch today,” he says and carries him to the living room.

Jisung would like that. He could spread his legs for Minho, and bury his face inside the couch cushions, and let Minho bite his back–

“No!” Jisung says, gripping Minho’s shoulders.

Minho blinks. “No?” 

Jisung scrambles for what to say. “I uh. I want to ride you?”

“You want to ride me?” 

“Yes, please, wanna– Wanna make you feel good,” Jisung hopes that his blatant horniness hides the fact that he’s desperately trying to hide certain bruises on his back.

“Alright, since you’re so eager. You can do all the work.” MInho laughs and sits down on the couch with Jisung in his lap. “Show me how good you can make me feel.”

Jisung grabs the lube from the side table, and shimmies out of his sweatpants. He may hate himself for stumbling into a situation where he has to do the work– But it’s also perfect, because if he also fingers himself, Minho won’t feel that he may be more loose than usual. And yes, even a slight difference like that would not go unnoticed.

Jisung fingers himself open while sitting on Minho’s lap, letting Minho watch his face contort in concentration. Minho’s hands rest on Jisung’s thighs uselessly– Jisung wants them around his throat, but he feels like he doesn’t deserve to ask for it.

He gasps as Minho unzips his top, and is relieved when Minho doesn’t yank it off as usual. Unzipped seems good enough for him.

Slowly, Jisung sinks on Minho’s cock, moaning as he takes it all in. This position always allows him to go as deep as he pleases, because it gives him all the control. 

Jisung doesn’t love being in control. He simply sucks at riding. Thighs trembling and muscles burning, he starts moving, up and down, and endures the way Minho tries not to laugh at him. 

That’s the problem. Jisung doesn’t need much to cum– Being full of cock, and having Minho look at him condescendingly is an easy recipe for an orgasm. 

He tries to last, he really does. The thrusts never hit his prostate properly, but his mind betrays him, and shows him images of Lino coming home and catching him riding Minho. He has to be going to hell for how that pushes him to the edge. 

Minho trails a finger on Jisung’s collarbones, a lazy smile on his face.

“Sungie, just one?” 

Why the hell not. The pleasure is going to Jisung’s head– He will let future Jisung deal with the problem that he’s about to create. 

Since that worked out so well last time.

“Yes, please, please–” he begs.

Minho bites him on the chest. 

“I’m home,” Lino says, in Japanese, as he always does.

“Welcome home,” Jisung replies, in Japanese, as he always does.

Minho is currently in the cat’s room, so Lino kisses Jisung, and slides a hand inside the back of Jisung’s sweatpants and underwear, giving his bare ass a firm squeeze.

Jisung is one baby away from letting Lino fuck him right here, in the hallway, where Minho can catch them. 

Yeah. Jisung is as insatiable as Minho. Half of the guilt inside him has turned into lust, the other half is a stressful ache in his back.

“I didn’t work today,” he says, confessing the wrong thing.

“Oh. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just stressed.”

“How so? Did you not sleep well?”

“I– I slept well.” Jisung had the best sleep since a while. “I just.. Need to relax.”

“Is that so.”

“Ah– Oh my god, fuck– Yes, yes, hhnngh–” Jisung can’t hold back his moans. Hands roam his back, touching him exactly where he needs it. 

“Wow, Jisung. You’re loud today.”

“I– I can’t help it.. ”

“It’s okay, we’re alone. Be as loud as you need, I’ll help you relax.”

Jisung closes his eyes in bliss, and turns pliant under the expert touch. He doesn’t hold back his voice, completely letting go of his shame. 

He groans as a particularly stiff tension in his upper shoulder is released. 

Felix’s magic hands do wonders to his back. 

“You haven’t been this tense in a while,” Felix says and squirts more oil on Jisung’s back. 

Jisung sighs into the massaging table. “I’m going through a stressful time.” 

“Is it about Minho?”

“How’d you know?”

“Less bite marks than usual,” Felix says, making Jisung blush. “What is it this time? Did you fight about who gets to propose again?”

“Nnhhh– No, we didn’t.” This is the time where Jisung realizes he might need to buy a second engagement ring. And hide that one too.  

He’s lucky he’s under Felix’s hands already– The stress about that future problem has no time to build up as Felix puts the perfect pressure at just the right place. 

“It’s just that.. Minho is being possessive again.”

“You love that.”

“I do. It’s– Ah– different this time.” Jisung wishes he could share the truth, but he isn’t ready to break the mind of a friend. 

At least not while they can keep this a secret while pretending to be normal. If this ends up being permanent, they might have to tell them eventually, though.

“How is it different?” Felix asks, drawing out another loud moan.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Alright.”

“How is it different?” Hyunjin asks. They’re sitting on the floor of his apartment, painting their nails. 

Hyunjin chose red, Jisung is adding pink stars on his black nails. Spending time with his friends always relaxes Jisung. 

“It’s hard to explain,” he says.

“What? Did you do something crazy, like ask him for a threesome?” Hyunjin laughs at him.

 Jisung cringes at how close to the truth that is.

“Well.. Kinda?” 

“No way.” Hyunjin gasps. “Jisung, you idiot.”

“I understand what this sounds like.” Jisung lowers the nail brush. “But I need you to believe that Minho is the one being an idiot.”

“I can’t.” Hyunjin scoffs. “Who’s the guy you want to fuck so badly that you doom him to certain death?” 

“No one! Well– I mean, I said it’s hard to explain–”

“Is it Changbin?” 

“It’s not Changbin!”

“Oh my god it is Changbin.” Hyunjin jumps up and runs to the kitchen, grabbing his phone in a panic. Jisung chases him and tries to wrestle it out of his hands. “You’re sick and twisted Jisung, how could you do this to Changbin?” 

“Hyunjin, it’s not what you think–”

“I have to warn him! Minho would not even let a clone of himself touch you, you dumbass.”

Ah. Friendship.

Maybe Jisung can force them to hold hands until they like each other, like that one time he forced Minho and Seungmin to hold hands until they made up.

Maybe he can bring them both to karaoke, let them bond over singing. No, that would be logistically hard to accomplish without risking that their friends see two Minhos. 

Maybe they’ll bond over cats. Cats have never failed Jisung when he needed to calm Minho down. 

Jisung sighs. He’s in his car, driving home, breaking his head over how to solve the Minho problem. 

He dreads arriving home. He might as well call an ambulance already, something has to have happened while he was gone. 

Think, Jisung, think! What does Minho like so much that he has no choice but to bond with himself?

There’s nothing. 

This is an impossible puzzle, and Jisung is going to come home to a bloodbath. The unsexy kind.

Despair.

Jisung unlocks the front door, and drags his feet inside. He braces himself for what’s about to come.

The sound of Minho’s laughter comes from the living room. 

“I remember,” Minho says. “We had to carry him home.”

Minho laughs.

“It was so long ago,” Minho says, chuckling.

Holy shit? They’re laughing. They’re having a normal conversation. What!

Jisung puts off his boots and jacket, and tiptoes over. He peeks his head into the living room, and watches their conversation unfold. They don’t notice him.

“He was so cute back then. Wait. Remember when he asked us out?” Lino says and hits Minho’s thigh. 

“Oh my god, yes." 

“Minho, do you want to go on a date with me?” Lino clearly mocks Jisung’s younger voice. 

Jisung cringes, because he used to talk with a way lower tone back then, thinking he had to conform to certain standards.

“Yes Jisung, I do!” Minho says, exactly as he said back then.

“Like, a gay one. A gay date. A gate. Because I am very gay for you. No wait, please forget everything I just said–”  

They burst into laughter. Jisung tried to repress that memory for years, his face flushes with embarrassment.

Lino wipes his tears away. “And then he avoided us for two weeks!” 

Jisung cringes harder. 

Look at the bright side, Jisung. They’re finally bonding. 

Bonding over your embarrassments.

“He was such a loser,” Minho says. “How did we fall for him?”

“You know how.”

“Yeah, I do. I love him so much.”

Jisung’s heart clenches. They look so fond. Jisung doesn’t deserve them.

“Wait, wait. Remember when–” Minho cuts himself off with laughter. “R–Remember when he asked us if we want to have sex–”

“Minho, I’d like to have sex. Preferably with you. I mean. Definitely with you. Like, with your penis–”

“Shut up!” Jisung yells, feeling hot all over. Both Minhos bend over with laughter.

Jisung runs to the couch and picks up a pillow, using it to beat the shit out of them. They keep laughing, ignoring his violence. 

He realizes it doesn’t matter if the Minhos get along or not– The one who will always be getting the short end of the stick is him.  

“Wait–” Lino shields himself from Jisung’s pillowy attacks. “Remember– Remember when we were in Tokyo, and Jisung–”

Jisung heats up. “Shut your fucking mouth or– I fucked Minho! And Lino! I fucked both of you!" 

He would rather see both Minhos dead than remember that night in Tokyo. Hastily, he takes off his shirt, showcasing the colorful bruises they left on him.

“Lino kissed me, and then Minho kissed me, and then Lino fucked me while I was asleep, and then I fucked Minho in the morning–” He says in one breath, fueled by humiliation and anger, the ache in his body leaving him with every word.

After his confession, they both blink at him. Then they turn to look at each other. 

Jisung stands in front of them, shirtless and panting, while waiting for them to explode.

They don’t.

“You fucked him while he was asleep?” Minho asks, no fragment of anger in his tone.

“Yep. In front of you." Lino shrugs. "You know it’s one of his biggest fantasies, of course I had to.” 

“How dare you. That’s fucking hot. How fast did he cum?”

“Five minutes tops. It was fantastic.”

They fistbump each other. 

“You know, he rode me today,” Minho says.

“He what.”

“I know right.”

Lino laughs. “How long did he last?”

“Five minutes tops. He sucks at riding.”

“He does.”

This is not going the way Jisung thought it would. 

“Huh. He really cheated on us both,” Lino says, still looking at Minho. 

“Our Jisungie? How could he do that to us,” Minho says, now grinning, still looking at Lino.

Jisung senses that he’s in danger. 

“I didn’t– I mean–” he stammers. “You’re the ones who messed with me. You’re the ones who–”

Two Minhos turn to look at him, both with icy glares. Jisung squeaks.

“We’re so fucking hurt,” Lino says, like the liar that he is. His eyes pierce the bite mark on Jisung’s chest. Jisung covers it with his hand reflexively. 

“You’re going to apologize to us,” Minho says, hooking a finger in Jisung’s belt loop and pulling him close. 

Jisung finds himself standing between two very horny panthers.

What's worse than two Minhos who don’t get along? 

Two Minhos who get along.

“I really didn’t mean to. It just.. It just happened– And I felt really guilty..” Jisung rambles, voice pleading. 

He squirms from their judgmental stares. They know how into it he was, but he would rather die than admit that.

Lino places his hand on Jisung’s ass, gently. “Baby, quit rambling. Tell us what you actually want to say.”

Jisung swallows. His thighs twitch.

”..I really like these jeans."

“You do? Hmm." Lino squeezes Jisung’s ass. "What do you say, Minho?” 

“He looks good in them. It’s too bad, really.”

“Aw, look. He’s already hard.”

Jisung is going to die of shame. He does the most logical thing in this situation. 

He turns around and runs.

He doesn’t get far. He never gets far.

A hand grips his ankle, making him stumble and trip. He gets up close and personal with their living room carpet. 

“Eek!” he squeaks, again, as he’s harshly yanked backwards across the floor. He’s happy that Minho insisted on a fluffy carpet. 

Minho sits on him, crotch against Jisung’s ass, as he always does. It puts a stop to his frustrated wiggling.

Lino walks leisurely in front of him, then grabs his hair and pulls his head up, making him groan.

Lino is crouching while wearing gray sweatpants. The muscles of his thighs and the outline of his cock is clearly visible.

“Apologize,” he says. 

Minho trails sharp nails along Jisung’s back, gently.

“I’m.. I’m sorry.” Jisung clutches the fibers of the carpet. 

“What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“..I’m sorry for cheating on you,” Jisung lies. He whimpers when Minho digs his nails in.

“You know I hate it when you lie,” Lino says, clicking his tongue.

“What are you actually sorry for, Sungie?” Minho asks.

“I can’t– I can’t say it, I’m– I’m sorry–” Jisung tries to shake his head, but Lino’s grip doesn’t allow much movement. 

He doesn’t want to admit it. He knows he’ll cry if he does. It’s too embarrassing.

“So you can go around cheating on me, but you can’t fucking apologize?”

“I didn’t want to cheat! You kept coming onto me–”

Lino slaps Jisung. Minho laughs. 

Jisung’s eyes sting with tears, his cock throbs. He moans when Minho scratches his back, slowly.

He feels helpless. So intoxicatingly helpless.

“We have safewords for a reason.” Lino pulls on Jisung’s hair to force eye contact, because Jisung has been staring at his cock the entire time. “You could have stopped us at any time. Tell us why you didn’t.” 

“Tell us why you aren’t stopping us right now,” Minho says.

They know why. 

“I didn’t stop you because.. I was worried you’ll find out and– And be angry, and kill each other.” Jisung doesn’t lie fully, but he sure does omit the truth. 

Lino gives a little laugh. It’s a fond laugh, he broke character for a split second. Then he tuts, and caresses Jisung’s hot cheek. 

“I know you want me to slap you again. I’m not going to do it, until you confess.”

Jisung sniffs. He tries to move his hips, to alleviate his aching need to be touched, but Minho doesn’t allow him to move. Pathetically, it’s enough to make him cave in.

“I didn’t stop you because.. Because I liked it so much,” he admits, voice going high pitched.

“Why did you like it so much, baby?”

“Because I’m.. I’m a slut,” Jisung whispers, teary eyed and sniffling. 

“Did you hear that, Minho?”

“I did not.”

“Fuck–” Jisung’s face burns with embarrassment, hot tears roll down his cheeks. “I just– I love you so much, and you’re both so hot, and it was so exciting– and I didn’t stop you because I’m a slut.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Minho rewards him with more pressure on his ass, grinding against him achingly slowly.

“I am.. I’m sorry for– for being a slut. I’m sorry.” Jisung trembles with arousal. He loves when Minho makes him cry. All his shame rushes to his cock, all he can think about is having them inside him. Filling him up.

“That wasn’t that hard, was it?” Lino says.

Jisung makes eye contact again, hoping he looks wrecked and pretty as he pouts. He waits patiently for what he deserves.

Lino slaps him harder this time, just how Jisung likes it. Jisung moans, squeezing his eyes shut to savor the residual sting. 

“Th–Thank you, I’m sorry, hhngh–” Jisung gasps when teeth graze his shoulder and claws run down his back. 

“Go easy on him, Minho. He’ll cum too fast,” Lino says, expertly reading Jisung’s expression.

“He always does,” Minho says. He switches to planting kisses on Jisung’s spine, grinding into him more roughly. 

“Should we let him cum?” 

Jisung nods weakly, knowing that Lino doesn’t care about his opinion. 

“Maybe,” Minho says. “Maybe, if he can answer a question for us.”

“Anything,” Jisung says. He might die if he doesn’t get to cum soon. 

“Which one of us was better?” Lino asks.

“Lino, Lino was better,” Jisung answers, immediately and honestly, loving the way Minho gasps offendedly against his back. 

“What the fuck? Why?” Minho asks.

Lino laughs, switching to both hands cupping Jisung’s cheeks, and squishing him.

“I know why,” he says, grinning sweetly. “You love it when I fuck you whenever I want, especially in your sleep. You love being used, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, shit,” Jisung groans when claws dig into his waist. “I hate riding, I hated riding Minho–” 

“You asked for it,” Minho spits. “God, Jisung. I should never listen to you, huh? You don’t even know what you want.” 

Jisung cries out as Lino pushes his head back into the carpet, pinning him down easily. His hips are lifted off the ground, the seams of his jeans rip when Minho pulls them down.

“You want to be used? I’ll fucking use you.”

Jisung moans as Minho pushes inside him. 

It’s not as painful as he would want it to be. He regrets fucking himself silly in the car drive on the way home, he’s still lubed up. 

Minho digs his claws into Jisung’s hips, leaving promises of beautiful bruises along the skin.

“He’s wet and loose,” he says, doing one deep thrust into Jisung, sounding displeased at the easy give. 

“Of course he is. He’s a whore,” Lino says. Jisung can practically hear him roll his eyes. He drools, embarrassingly close to cumming already. He’s lucky Minho avoids his prostate on purpose. “We were so kind to him today, generous enough to fuck him twice.”

“And he still wants more.”

Lino stands up to walk around him. Jisung doesn’t dare to move his upper body from his place. 

Minho moves inside him slowly, slowly. Always slowly. Jisung whines quietly, resisting the urge to slam his hips back. He knows he needs to be patient to get what he wants. He grits his teeth, trying to hold it together. 

“Look at him clench around me,” Minho says, and spreads Jisung’s asscheeks with his hands.

“Wait, p–please don’t look,” Jisung whines, as if it would stop them. He’s dripping precum onto the carpet, and he clenches tighter around Minho’s cock. He’s too exposed. He wishes he could hide.

“Fuck, Jisung,” Lino groans. “You’re sucking him in.” 

It’s too much. Jisung shudders when another hand grabs his ass, exposing him further, stretching his hole. 

“N–No, no, Minho please don’t, I’ll– Please–” Jisung tries, mumbling uselessly, struggling against their hold. 

“You’re such a greedy little slut.”

More tears spill down Jisung’s face as he comes, completely untouched. He sniffs and bites his lip, tasting his own tears and shame. 

Minho doesn’t pull out. He never does.

It’s eerily quiet again. 

“I’m– I’m sorry?” Jisung whispers.

“Do you think what I’m thinking?” Minho says. Jisung can’t distinguish who says it. He doesn’t dare twist to look at them, knowing that the question isn’t for him.

“Yes,” Minho says.

“He was way too quiet.”

“Yes.”

“Make him scream.”

Oh-oh.

Minho bends over Jisung, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s middle, and thrusts at a rapid pace. 

Jisung wails. His air is squeezed out of him by the tight hold, leaving him struggling to breathe.

His hips thrash involuntarily, trying to get away from Minho’s cock– Minho bites him into submission, teeth sinking into his back, exactly where Lino bit him previously.

Minho fucks him exactly as he wanted it. Rough. Jisung always wants it rough. 

But it’s too much. It’s.. It’s too much? 

No, that’s wrong. 

He’s dizzy from overstimulation. His head and face hurt from being pushed down. He winces and cries until he chokes on his own spit.

And yet..

And yet. 

Minho breathes heavily, his thrusts become slower, but deeper. He grinds against Jisung’s ass, speed wavering by the second.

He’s going to come. Jisung doesn’t want that.

“Lino,” he moans. 

Minho stops moving. 

God. They’re so easy.

Jisung inhales.

“I want– I want Lino, please– He’s better– Need Lino–” he babbles, despite Minho’s claws scratching his waist. 

He’s playing with fire, he knows. His skin burns where Minho touches him. He loves it.

“Ouch,” Lino says.

“He’s fucking lying,” Minho says, voice dripping with venom.

He is. He is lying. They fuck him equally well. 

But Jisung wants them both.

“I’m not– I’m not lying,” he continues lying. “I need more.. Need Lino. Your cock isn’t good enough.” 

Lino laughs.

Minho doesn’t.

Jisung doesn’t miss the way Minho’s cock throbs inside of him. Minho loves being provoked, and Jisung loves getting burned. 

Minho pulls out, and turns Jisung onto his back, leaving him empty.

Jisung relishes in Minho’s pissed off expression. So fiery. So warm. It always gives him butterflies, even years into their relationship. He’s so in love it hurts.

“Say that to my face,” Minho says, calmly. It’s a threat. 

Jisung’s lips quiver. He can’t hide his smile when he looks behind Minho, eyes landing on Lino.

Lino is sitting on the couch with his hand on his cock. Watching, waiting, grinning. 

Jisung licks his lips. “Lino fucks me better–”

He moans when he’s slapped, face whipping to the side with the force. He wishes Minho wore rings. He should finally propose to him, that way he’d always be wearing a ring.

Minho grabs his throat, pulling him up until their faces are mere inches apart. Fingers dig into Jisung’s pulse points. 

He’s fully hard again, loving the way Minho treats him. 

And yet, he doesn’t meet his gaze. He looks at Lino. 

“You ungrateful whore,” Minho hisses. “Fine. Since you’re so desperate for his cock, you’ll get it. You’ll get us both.”

“Both?” Jisung gasps. He’s squirming and twitching and leaking from the promise of getting what he wants. Being filled up more than ever before. 

Minho isn’t blind. He smiles at Jisung’s eagerness. 

“You can take both our cocks, right?”

“No, I can’t– No please, it would be too much,” Jisung lies. He’s a bad liar.

Minho laughs. “Good. I want you to scream for us to stop when we fuck you.”

Jisung kisses him. Their teeth clank together, exactly as he likes it. He gasps and moans around Minho’s tongue. 

Their kiss is broken apart by Lino pulling Minho away. Minho frowns and Jisung gives a confused whine at the loss.

“It’s my fucking turn,” Lino says, yanking Jisung’s ripped pants off of him fully. He bends down to up Jisung in his arms, and kisses him with equal ferocity as Minho. Jisung can’t help but giggle into the kiss. 

His cock presses against Lino’s stomach as he wraps his legs around him. Lino carries him to their bedroom, despite knowing that Jisung wouldn’t have minded doing it on the floor. But fine. 

Lino lies down on the bed, making Jisung straddle him, steadying him on his hips. Jisung can barely sit upright with the way his thighs tremble. 

“You look pretty like this,” Lino says.

Oh no.

“Come on baby, ride me.” 

Jisung pouts. “Ugh. Don’t wanna.” 

“I don’t care what you want. I won’t move,” Lino says, like the bastard that he is. Jisung hates this man, actually.

Grumbling, he lifts himself onto Lino’s cock and sits down to take it easily. He doesn’t move.

“Jisung.”

“What.”

“Move.”

“No. Make me.”

Lino rolls his eyes. “I won’t make you. He will.”

“Why are you suddenly so brave?” Minho whispers against Jisung’s ear, startling him. “He said move.”

The hand around Jisung’s throat motivates him. Jisung always needs a little push.

He starts using his thighs, lifting himself off of Lino’s cock slowly, and sinking down fast. 

“So pretty,” Lino says, annoying Jisung by tracing his fingertips against his chest gently, circling his abs and nipples. “And useless. You suck at this.”

“He does,” Minho says. “We should force him to do it more often.”

“We should.”

Jisung is about to complain, but he freezes when fingers enter him alongside Lino’s cock. 

“Oh, he likes that,” Lino says, watching his reaction closely. “They slide in easily, right honey?”

Jisung moans in response, feeling Minho’s fingers stretch him open as the grip on his neck tightens. 

“Move,” Lino says, finally digging his claws into Jisung. 

Jisung obeys. His thighs hurt from his messy, unsatisfying movement. He sucks at this.  

“Nnngh– Hurts– Minho please,” he breathes out, giving Lino a pleading look. 

“You like it when it hurts,” Minho says, punctuating his sentence with a harsh stretch, turning Jisung’s breathing ragged.

Jisung whimpers when his legs give out. “Not like this, I– I like it when you do it.”

“He’s so whiny,” Lino says, pinching Jisung’s nipple, making him whine to prove a point. 

“Please Lino, I just– I need more–”

“And so greedy,” Minho says, removing his fingers.

“No, no please don’t leave– Please, I’ll–”

“He’s perfect,” Lino says.

Minho pushes Jisung, making him land on Lino. Lino buries his face into Jisung’s neck, hugging him tight, making sure he can’t run.

Minho isn’t gentle as he slides into him– Jisung wouldn’t want him to be.

He moans when Lino kisses along his neck. He whimpers when Minho presses his chest against him, kissing his nape. 

He wants both their tongues and teeth on him, everywhere. He wants to lay pliant and pretty and useless while they eat him. 

“Sungie,” Minho whispers against his ear, sounding fond. He takes Jisung’s hand and guides it to his lower tummy. “How does it feel?”

“Holy fuck.” Jisung feels them– His belly bulges from their cocks. He tingles all over, mind slowly melting to make space for more Minho. So pleasant, stretched out, and addictingly full. “It’s– It’s too much– It’s too much–”

“You love us, don’t you?” Lino asks, nipping at Jisung’s throat.

“Yes, yes, love you so much,” Jisung babbles, cock throbbing and hole clenching around their size. 

“Then you’ll take it.”

They start moving, easily setting a fast pace, fucking into Jisung with no care for his sanity. Jisung is reduced to a moaning mess, attention focused on his palm, feeling their thrusts inside him, feeling how his insides mold for them.

It’s groundbreaking.

Jisung’s body goes lax, letting them use him however they please. He bathes in their body warmth, moans from their tongues, and wails when his prostate is hit brutally. Rough and careless. Exactly how he likes it. 

“Hhhfuck, I’m s–so full, I can’t– Please slower– Slower– Stop–”

They don’t slow down. They don’t stop. They bite him, finally, finally fangs sink into him, making him scream like they promised. He's stuffed, and hot, and sticky from cum coating his and Lino’s stomachs. 

He came already, he doesn’t know when. He doesn’t care, because they don’t care either.

Helpless. No control over his voice, his body, his mind. Fuzzy, warm and so, so happy. 

He’ll look so pretty tomorrow. 

He’s barely conscious enough to feel them cum inside him, filling him up impossibly more, panting against him as they maul him to their heart’s content. 

He loves them so much.

Jisung wakes up slowly. There’s sunlight outside, it must be very late. His vision slowly focuses.

“Yah!” He yelps when he sees two Minhos staring at him. They jump slightly too. 

“Good morning, honey,” Lino says.

Minho nuzzles him close. 

“It’s creepy when you both stare at me,” Jisung says with a scratchy voice. He screamed a lot yesterday.

“You better get used to it,” Minho says. “We’re not going away anytime soon.”

Jisung laughs.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, relaxing into the bed, flanked by both their warmths. They’re all sharing one blanket. 

“Us? We’re good. How are you feeling?” Lino pokes Jisung’s cheek. He loves it when he’s puffy in the mornings.

Jisung hums. His ass hurts, his skin tingles where he was bit, his throat feels dry.

“Fucked out,” he says.

“Is that all?” Minho asks, kissing Jisung’s cheek, making him giggle.

“No,” he says. 

“I told you he’d be horny again,” Lino says.

“He’s perfect,” Minho says.

Jisung might never get enough of them talking about him like that. 

“I like it when you get along,” he says, closing his eyes and hugging Minho. Lino spoons him from behind. “I knew that you can be nice to each other.”

“Wrong, we’re not nice to each other,” Lino says. “We’re mean to you. Together.”

Jisung laughs when Minho tickles him. It’s gentle. Loving.

“Stop it Minho,” he says, putting up a weak protest with a smile on his face.

“I’m Lino,” Minho lies.

“Liar.”

Lino gasps in surprise. “How do you know?” 

“I have my ways.”

“Is it by our cocks?”

“It’s not by your cocks.”

Minho pouts. “We’re the same. There’s no difference, Sungie.”

There is. A very slight one.

He gives them both forehead kisses.

“You love me, right?” Jisung asks. He’s sitting on the floor, looking up at two Minhos. They’re sitting together on the couch, less distance between them this time.

“He’s gonna manipulate us,” Minho says.

“Yep,” Lino says. “What do you want?”

“Something very small. Something very insignificant. And you would do it if you loved me,” Jisung says, like the little shit that he is. 

“Say it.”

Jisung claps his hands together in a prayer. “Could you please kiss each other?” 

“What? I’m not gay.”

“Minho, you are gay.”

“Not for him I’m not.”

“He’s not my type,” Lino says.

“Please, please, pretty please? I’ll do anything!”

“Anything? Don’t be stupid, Sungie. We’ll wreck you,” Minho says.

“Oh woe is me.”

They both sigh. Jisung knows that means he’s won.

He gulps as they turn to each other. They’re both unbelievably hot, he can’t help but fidget on the floor with excitement. 

They lean in, and Jisung watches their teeth click against each other– Just like they do with him. They kiss, holding onto each other's shirts, quickly deepening the kiss as they always do– Hands tangling into each other’s hair.

It’s fucking hot.

“Don’t pull my hair,” Lino says into the kiss.

“Too much fucking teeth,” Minho says.

“You should really cut your nails.”

“You suck at this.”

“Jisung, decide who’s better.”

It’s really fucking hot.

“I’ll tell Chan soon. He can handle it best, I think,” Jisung says, sitting at their dining table, eating a freshly cooked meal.

“Good choice,” Minho says.

“I think Seungmin would go crazy if he sees there’s two of us,” Lino says.

“Huh. Yeah. He would.”

Jisung laughs. “Minho, put that phone down.”

“I’m home,” Lino says, in Japanese, as he always does. 

Lino is carrying a huge bouquet of various white flowers, mostly tulips. It’s big enough to cover his entire upper body– He struggles getting them through the door.

“Welcome home?” Jisung replies, in Japanese, as he always does. “What do you have there?”

“Oh. Changbin came by at work and gave these to me. I don’t know why.”