Chapter Text
Jihoon met Minhyung’s wide-eyed gaze with one that was pure mischief. “What’s keeping you from doing it?” he challenged and gestured vaguely toward the bottle now resting against Minhyung’s knee.
The audacity startled a laugh out of Minhyung. His hand around Geonwoo’s cock never stopped moving, though it slowed significantly, drawing out each stroke until every twitch of his wrist had the other man jolting. “Tempting,” Minhyung admitted, pressing his mouth against Geonwoo’s throat. “Really fucking tempting, but I doubt either of us has the patience for thorough prep right now.” He mouthed along Geonwoo’s neck, letting his breath warm the damp skin.
His voice dipped lower, softer, as he let his lips brush along the sensitive curve of Geonwoo’s neck, feeling him tremble. “But…” He stilled his hand, letting Geonwoo whine in protest, rutting into his fist in search of friction. “… but what if I fuck those gorgeous thighs of yours instead, pet?”
Geonwoo’s nod was frantic, hair falling into his eyes. His pride had been burned away by the rising heat. Minhyung’s touch was there, but it was too light to tip him over the edge. His body trembled with the effort of holding still, of waiting, when every nerve screamed for more. All while Minhyung took his time, still a little in shock that he could, brushing soothing fingers over his hips as though he wasn’t seconds away from unraveling himself.
Minhyung reached for the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his cock. The contrast of the cold gel against his feverish skin made his breath catch. After generously slicking his length, Minhyung shifted his position and adjusted Geonwoo’s. Finally, he pushed forward, the blunt head of his cock nudging into the tight space between Geonwoo’s legs. His hands settled on Geonwoo’s hip bones to anchor himself, before he began to thrust.
The friction was exquisite even with the lube. Geonwoo’s moaned as his head fell back against Minhyung’s shoulder, looking gorgeously wrecked already. His thighs clenched involuntarily, eyes fluttering shut before he caught himself, forcing them open again with a whimper that made Jihoon chuckle approvingly from his place across from them. His eyes sparked as he watched, utterly unashamed.
“There you go,” Minhyung murmured, teeth grazing the shell of Geonwoo’s ear as he began to establish a slow rhythm. “Feel that? That’s all for you.” However, before he could lose himself in the tight heaven Geonwoo’s legs created for him, Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze.
“Stop Puppy, let’s play a game!”
Minhyung obeyed without question, stilling instantly, his cock pulsing where it sat snuggly enveloped by Geonwoo’s thighs. Jihoon’s tone left no room for argument.
“I’ll put my hand around Geonwoo,” Jihoon continued, already crawling close. “Lubed up, nice and tight, like a fleshlight. And both you and I …” his eyes locked onto Minhyung’s,“… we’ll stay completely still, not moving a single muscle.”
Geonwoo let out a shuddering breath, chest rising and falling fast as he watched his boyfriend approach them. Jihoon’s hand tilted his chin up, fingers firm yet gentle, forcing his wide eyes to meet his own. His thumb brushed lightly over Geonwoo’s swollen lower lip, smearing a trace of spit. The black and silver collar stood out starkly against his flushed skin, a constant reminder of what he had gifted them tonight.
“And you, sweet pet,” Jihoon purred, his lips brushing close enough to his that Geonwoo’s mouth fell open reflexively, silently begging for a proper kiss, “… you’ll do all the work. You’ll make yourself and Minhyung feel good, won’t you?”
Geonwoo’s pupils were blown big until there was almost no brown left. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, making the collar around it shift, a strangled whimper escaping him. He nodded, but Jihoon wasn’t finished yet. His grin widened as he slicked his palm and wrapped it tight around Geonwoo’s cock, squeezing until he gasped. He stroked up and down once, ever so slowly, before leaning in even closer.
“You get to come whenever you want, Woo-yah,” Jihoon whispered, voice cruel in its sweetness, “but only after our Puppy does. So you’d better work those lovely muscles of yours for him. If he’s not satisfied, you don’t get your release. Do you understand?”
Geonwoo’s eyes went impossibly wider. How was he supposed to do that? The rule sank in like a weight and Minhyung felt the shiver run through the man in his arms. The realization that Geonwoo would have to basically fuck himself on his cock, driving them both toward release without any help from them … it made Minhyung’s pulse roar in his ears.
Jihoon leaned back, smirk firmly in place and squeezed his hand again for good measure. “Go on, pet. Show us how much you want to come.”
Minhyung dug his fingers into Geonwoo’s hips, fighting the overwhelming urge to thrust. And caught between Jihoon’s tight grip and Minhyung’s body, Geonwoo couldn’t help but think that “allowing” Jihoon to be the submissive in their relationship was the only thing keeping his sanity intact.
He liked control and structure, it came naturally to him. He found comfort in assuming responsibility and enjoyed the way dominance steadied his own sometimes chaotic mind. But when Jihoon stepped into this role he seemed to thrive on chaos, on pulling the ground out from beneath them and making them stumble into places they never thought they’d go.
Case in point: right now.
Geonwoo could feel Minhyung tense behind him, strain rippling through his muscles, mirroring his own. They both knew better than to disobey. It wasn’t rope that tied them in place, nor chains or ribbons or cuffs or anything else like it - it was something much more profound. Tonight they had both handed Jihoon their trust and devotion, willing submission an invisible leash that their darling Kitten always seemed to handle with terrifying ease. Though every instinct urged him to twist, to bite, to seize back control, Geonwoo knew better than to misbehave, not when Jihoon’s eyes gleamed like this.
Sudden pressure around his aching erection made his entire body jerk. The slick heat of the grip was maddening, every nerve alight and Jihoon didn’t even move - he just held him, tight and perfect, pure bliss so close but still completely out of reach.
Geonwoo had no idea how he was supposed to manage his task. Every instinct in him wanted to thrust forward into Jihoon’s hand, to chase friction, to forget the rules and just take. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He had agreed, he had bowed his head and now he would obey, no matter what his body wanted.
His thighs flexed as he pushed himself back on Minhyung’s cock, the thick weight sliding between his legs and over the underside of his own length making his vision blur for a second. Minhyung groaned softly against his shoulder, the sound shooting straight down his spine, but he didn’t move either, obedience coming much more natural to him.
Jihoon just smiled at the sight and Geonwoo could practically feel the satisfaction radiating off him. It made Geonwoo want to both curse and beg him in the same breath, but talking wasn’t allowed, so he did the only thing left to him. He moved.
He rocked forward and back, muscles straining as he worked Minhyung between his thighs, every movement dragging his own cock through Jihoon’s unmoving hand. The friction was exquisite torture, too much and not enough at once and already it felt like he was seconds away from coming. But Jihoon’s words echoed in his head - only after Minhyung. He would try. For them, he would always try.
Geonwoo’s movements were tentative at first, searching for a rhythm that would let him balance the impossible tension building inside him and his task. Short, shallow thrusts forward, followed by slowly pressing back against Minhyung, angling his hips just so to feel his cock better, to make him feel even better. His muscles burned with the effort. Every motion sent sparks skittering through his body and he clung to Jihoon’s shoulders to not just collapse and sink into sensation. It was neither smooth nor controlled like he usually liked it, but it was something.
Which, obviously, made Jihoon want to ruin it.
Of course, he couldn’t just leave it at that. Could he ever? Chaos came naturally to him. Geonwoo often mused that the orange cat ears and tail Jihoon had gotten as a gift from Minhyung should just become a permanent addition, because he truly carried that same energy everywhere - mischievous, disruptive, like a cat deliberately knocking things off counters just to watch its owners despair.
Jihoon leaned in and let his breath ghost over Geonwoo’s ear. “Enjoying yourself? Fucking my hand, fucking yourself on Minhyung’s lovely cock so desperately.” His fingers flexed around Geonwoo’s length, not moving or giving too much, just reminding him who held the reins. “It must feel so good, hm? Feeling him slide along your balls and your dick, over and over.”
Geonwoo’s breath stuttered, hips faltering in their rhythm before he forced himself to keep moving.
“But just imagine how good he’d feel actually inside of you. Not just sliding against your skin, but stretching you open so good, filling you so full you’d forget your own name, let alone that you’re usually in control. Every push, every thrust - making you his while you cry for me, for more.”
A strangled whimper tore itself from Geonwoo’s throat, his eyes screwing shut as heat licked up his spine. Minhyung groaned behind him, clearly not unaffected by the words either. And Jihoon only smiled wider, pleased and indeed like a cat that had knocked over a glass and was now watching it break into glittering pieces across the floor.
The only saving grace for Geonwoo in this little game was that he wasn’t the only one affected by Jihoon’s silver tongue. He could feel Minhyung twitch against him, hands gripping his hips harder, nails digging in - and oh, how he relished those marks as proof of tonight.
Every instinct in him screamed to speak, to break the rules he had agreed to, to beg and plead with Minhyung - to tell him how good he felt, how much he ached for him to fuck him properly. He wanted to tease and taunt to make him come faster, to free himself from this delicious torture. His lips parted, ready to put voice to his desires, but the rules held firm and he bit his lips to catch the words on his tongue.
Jihoon easily read the silent plea in Geonwoo’s eyes, that desperate, feverish look that promised sweet delirium if only he would be allowed. And he smiled, a picture of angelic innocence. “Close, Woo-yah? Remember, as soon as he comes, so can you - but not before. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
Every breath, every slick movement, every agonized whimper brought him closer to the edge and yet he stayed, trapped in the delicious tension of anticipation, his own pleasure and the exquisite torment of waiting tangled together. Every grind, every squeeze of Minhyung’s hands along his hips drove him closer to the edge … and Geonwoo couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted it all to end or last forever.
He wanted to laugh, though it would probably come out a little hysterically. He wanted to bite back at Jihoon’s tease. “You literally do make the rules, brat!” Instead he swallowed it all down, let it become a whine and did what the rules allowed: he grabbed one of Minhyung’s hands and shoved three of his long fingers straight past his lips. The motion was a bit clumsy with need, a manicured nail nicking the corner of his mouth, but who cared at this point? He sucked with downright worshipful intensity, lips and tongue mapping the skin, tasting salt and what was uniquely Minhyung.
He felt his surprised groan vibrate against his back. Jihoon’s laugh sounded just as startled, but also very pleased and it only made Geonwoo work harder, coaxing more noise from Minhyung. He rolled his hips in a way that had the other man gasping.
Jihoon’s taunting voice cut through the haze: “So desperate and greedy.” Yes, by god, yes he was! “Reduced to nursing on our Puppy's fingers just to keep from breaking?"
Geonwoo didn't care about the teasing anymore. He didn't care about looking dignified or in control. He just needed - needed - to come. He could feel the pressure inside of him building into a tight, hot knot; breath coming shorter, eyes damp, the world narrowing to the slick movement between his legs and the feel of Minhyung’s fingers in his mouth. He wanted to tell Jihoon to stop teasing and let him have it, let him come and vanish into hunger and darkness.
But even as need pulled him whatever which way, something in Geonwoo’s mind stayed sharp. He pictured the next time the roles would flip back to their normal: Jihoon begging, making him writhe and plead for a mercy that he would be just as slow to give. He loved his cheeky little troublemaker - loved the chaos Jihoon brought into his life - but even more so when he could turn him into a mess of sweet, pleading submission.
Not now though. Now, he rode the line between restraint and abandon, sucking, licking and grinding until Minhyung’s other hand came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck, whining pathetically. The absolute stillness Jihoon had demanded was fracturing; Minhyung was starting to twitch, hips jerking involuntarily against Geonwoo’s ass. "So close, Geon- ... almost-"
Geonwoo lifted his own hand blindly behind him, fingers searching until they tangled in Minhyung’s sweat-damp hair, tugging him ever closer until his face was forced flush against the curve of his neck. He might not have been allowed to talk, but silence never meant powerlessness. He tilted his head to the side in invitation and the reaction was instantaneous: a guttural moan that vibrated against his skin. Then came the flood of kisses and bites, each press of lips or teeth branding the tender flesh around that damned collar.
Minhyung was panting, breaths coming too fast to even separate anymore. He gasped out: “Feels so good! You feel so good. Mine!” The hunger in his voice, that frantic edge - it told Geonwoo all he needed to know: he had won.
He tightened his grip in Minhyung’s hair, muscles flexing, thighs straining, squeezing the cock between his legs. Minhyung whined, his whole body trembling, before finally surrendering. His teeth sank deep, just below the leather of the collar as he shattered, his hips snapping forward in a series of uncoordinated thrusts and Geonwoo cried out and arched into it.
Heat and relief crashed through him in a dizzying rush. He moaned around Minhyung’s fingers, everything narrowing into one single focus: himself. His body ached, but none of it mattered - because at last, finally, he was allowed to let go.
Jihoon’s eyes never left him, dark and full of hunger and something infinitely more tender, while he mindlessly fucked into his hand. “We never stand a chance against you, do we? Even like this … you know exactly how to take us apart.”
He gently pried Minhyung’s wet fingers from his mouth, cradling the hand in his own before lifting it to his lips to kiss each knuckle. Geonwoo’s lips parted in protest, wet with spit, but Jihoon pressed his own mouth there before a sound could escape. The kiss was languid, a sweet counterpoint to the frantic rhythm of Geonwoo’s hips.
Geonwoo’s moans and gasps were swallowed down, Jihoon’s teeth nibbling on his lower lip before whispering against the swollen flesh: “Come for me.”
That was all it took. Geonwoo’s entire body locked up, muscles going taut before pleasure ripped through him so sharp and consuming he swore he blacked out for a heartbeat. His cock pulsed into Jihoon’s slick fist and the sound that tore out of him was half-cry, half-sob.
He collapsed into it, into them, trembling and spent and boneless, chest heaving, breathing hard. And they held him. Safe. Stable. Strong. Home.
When Geonwoo heard Minhyung whine, curiosity tugged at his dazed mind and he forced his heavy eyelids open. The sight that greeted him made him laugh breathlessly - Jihoon, looking shameless and smug, was licking Geonwoo’s spend from his fingers like it was the most delicious dessert, expression wickedly satisfied, quite literally the cat that got the cream.
“Don’t be jealous, Puppy,” Jihoon teased. He extended his slick fingers toward Minhyung, who leaned in eagerly, but he moved at the last second, catching Minhyung’s mouth in a kiss instead. “Here,” Jihoon murmured against his lips, “I’ll share with you.”
Geonwoo didn’t need to turn to know what he would find - Jihoon and Minhyung kissing over his shoulder, tongues tangled, cum exchanged between their mouths, indecent and unbearably hot. The thought alone nearly sparked something again in his overstimulated body. But he couldn’t lift a finger, let alone move his head … not right now. His muscles felt like jelly, lungs still burning as though he had sprinted miles. So instead of trying to move, Geonwoo closed his eyes again and enjoyed the symphony of sounds that wrapped around him.
He and Jihoon had mapped out the first stages of tonight, the confessions, the collar, the shift of power. But now? Now the plan was over and only Jihoon knew what would come next. The thought made a thrill race down Geonwoo’s spine despite his exhaustion. Because if there was one truth he’d learned over the past months, it was that Jihoon in this mood always had something devastatingly clever and ruinously pleasurable up his sleeve.