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Yuchan knows he started it. The biggest step, at least. That first leap from platonic intimacy to something far more.
That's all he really knows.
Things started slowly. Naturally. They didn't know each other well enough in the beginning. It was awkward, weird, to cram themselves into a small space. Their shoulders would bump or they'd grab the same thing. They'd move aside quickly, muttering neat apologies that were respectful and distant.
Then they became more accustomed to one another. Donghun would shove himself between Yuchan and Junhee. Byeongkwan would feed them extra bits off his own plate. Sehyoon would rub Yuchan's back when he was too stressed.
Their progression was natural, gentle, unstartling. It was a soft wave at the beach that you watched with your friends. It was the sunshine you feel on your skin after a long day indoors. It was something beautiful, longing, in the stars and in the sky.
It was ethereal and what it was supposed to be for so long.
It stayed that way for a long time. Maybe it had progressed more over time? When did the fingers begin to linger? When was the first time Byeongkwan let his hands rest on Yuchan's cheeks when he cried? When was the first time Donghun laid next to Junhee in bed? When did Sehyoon first press his palm under Yuchan's shirt to comfort him? When did it all start to feel more intimate?
Yuchan remembers the dizzying feel of Donghun curled up in bed next to him. Squeezed between Byeongkwan and Donghun, he felt too warm, like he was outside on the muggiest Seoul day. Breathing felt strange, his heart tugged in his chest. Donghun pulled his arm from his side, forced it over his waist to be held.
Yuchan doesn't remember what he said then, only that Byeongkwan laughed softly. His breath moved over Yuchan's neck like a warm breeze. Byeongkwan shoved his head into the crook of his neck. A snarky comment about the youngest getting all the attention as usual.
Byeongkwan's arm found its own way around Yuchan's waist. His fist balled into the fabric of Donghun's shirt. Yuchan felt like his mind was fuzzy, moving, distant. He felt like his skin was on fire. This was so far from what they normally did.
It felt different.
Byeongkwan stayed the night in Yuchan's bed most of the time. Maybe it was him who started it, then? The shift from an ocean wave on a clear day to the wave that touches the shore a little harder. A little different, maybe.
Yuchan knows it was him who took the first leap, though.
Junhee crowded them into the small living area. Something about a movie night, they deserved it, they've all been too stressed. Something about his job as a leader. They boo'd, tossing fresh popcorn at him, laughing hysterically when he scolded them.
He ended up in the arms of Sehyoon. His legs draped over Donghun's lap. Yuchan watched them all night, pulled into Byeongkwan's waiting lap to curl up. He watched as Donghun's hand moved higher up Junhee's legs, up his thighs. He watched as Sehyoon stared Donghun down, not sure what the look was.
Yuchan watched as Donghun made eye contact with him. It was too much, too intense, too intimidating. He couldn't concentrate on the movie, curled up in Byeongkwan's arms, feeling suddenly exposed.
Maybe Donghun made the first move. Maybe the moves had been made and Yuchan just hadn't known until that night. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had wanted to press his mouth, his body, his skin against the rest of them. Maybe Donghun just gave him the courage to make that first, or maybe second, or third, or infinite, move.
Byeongkwan's arms wrapped around Yuchan like that, as normal. His face pressed into the crook of Yuchan's neck, muttering things about the next day's practice schedule, the new album, the new fan interactions. This was normal. This was fine.
It was just them.
Yuchan pressed his hand on top of Byeongkwan's. The other man became quiet. His body tensed against Yuchan's, but moved ever so closer. The room was quiet, save for their breathing.
Yuchan moved their hands from over his sleep shirt to the skin of his stomach. Byeongkwan let out a breath, soft, intense. A noise Yuchan couldn't place-- a groan? a mumble?-- shook Byeongkwan's chest against his back.
Byeongkwan's hands stayed against his skin for the next few weeks. They never traveled higher or lower than his stomach, never let his fingers graze his ribcage, touch more. Yuchan felt the intensity of every movement, felt the desire.
Most of all, he felt the frustration of wanting more, more, more, more, more.
Lately, Donghun crawled into his bed at night as well. Sometimes, he would be in there before Yuchan even got back. He would be curled up as small as could be, pressed into Byeongkwan's stomach, head in his lap. It was an electric jealousy Yuchan felt. He wanted to take, he wanted to be, he wanted to feel as well.
Yuchan would watch as Byeongkwan's fingers stroked through Donghun's hair, pressing into the nape of his neck, clutching a little harder sometimes. Sometimes, Donghun would shift ever so slightly, mouth a little open as he made a noise in his sleep.
Yuchan wanted to take, as well. He felt greedy. He felt deserving. He felt starved.
He'd crawl into bed those nights, pressed into Donghun, or Byeongkwan, or both as he lay between them. He'd let Byeongkwan's fingers wander, try to send him psychic notes that he wanted him to do more. He'd move ever so little to make sure Byeongkwan's fingers touched a little more, went a little further.
Frustration teemed at all of his edges, all of skin felt like ice and fire and electricity all at once. He felt desperate. He felt so desperate as Donghun pressed himself a little further, felt so desperate as Beyongkwan's fingers touched his ribcage gently.
Yuchan felt so desperate as he finally, one night, turned over, faced Byeongkwan, and walked backwards into hell.
His fingers found Byeongkwan's face, his palms pressed against his jaw. Byeongkwan stared at him, watching with wide eyes. It was difficult to see, but Yuchan felt it. He felt as Byeongkwan moved closer. He felt their hips press. He as Donghun stirred, turning over, pressing into Yuchan, hips flush with his ass.
Yuchan felt it as the change happened. As he pulled Byeongkwan's face closer to his as he leaned forward. As he pressed their lips together. As Byeongkwan moaned deep in his chest, soft, reverberating over his ribcage.
Yuchan felt it as Donghun's fingers pressed into his hips, breath on his nape. He felt it as Donghun's hips rolled into his, forcing him closer to Byeongkwan. He felt it in how Donghun's cock was hard, pressing into him. How Donghun's breath and fingers and existence felt desperate.
Had they been as desperate and greedy and ready as he had been this whole time?
Yuchan remembers how it felt natural. How it felt right. How the touches, the lingering, the electricity, the strange swelling in his chest, how it all made sense. He remembers how it felt fine, felt controlled, felt wild.
Above all, Yuchan remembers how it felt like being in love, finally, finally, finally.
Byeongkwan's hands slipped under his shirt, pressing against his chest, running over his nipples. Yuchan let out little gasps as he did this, as Donghun curved his hips into his ass. Donghun pressed his fingers under Yuchan's sleep shorts, closer and closer and closer, leaving electricity in their wake.
Yuchan couldn't make out the mumbling over the static in his head. He was overstimulated by his own greed and desire. He was already cracking and barely anything had happened. Byeongkwan's lips ghosted over his, something about *is it okay?* as Donghun pulls his shorts down. Frantic nodding, frantic breathing, and finally, a drawn out moan as Donghun's hand finally palmed his cock, as Byeongkwan's hands finally touched his thighs and squeezed.
There were so many please's that tumbled off of his lips. So many desperate whines. Byeongkwan laughed, hand over Donghun's as they fisted his cock gently. The youngest is so needy, he remembers Donghun mumbling. Yuchan nodded, he knows he nodded, whining out their names as he came closer.
Byeongkwan stopped, moving away to pull off his shirt and his own sleep pants. Yuchan greedily ate up his exposed body, eyes trailing from the stomach he had seen so often to the rest of the body he realizes now he wanted so desperately. Donghun clenches his fist hard around him, causing Yuchan to whine out, press back into him. More, more, more, he wanted more.
I want him to cum on me, Byeongkwan whispered over Yuchan. He pressed his lips into Donghun, claimed his mouth as Yuchan fucked harder into Donghun's hand. He watched, stared, as they kissed with tongue, as Byeongkwan moved down to bite the crook of Donghun's neck. He felt overwhelmed, suddenly more alive than ever, suddenly more dazed than ever, as he watched them.
Byeongkwan moved back, pulling Yuchan's face towards him by his chin. He had said something, but Yuchan couldn't understand. It was a miracle he wad still able to breathe. It was incredible he hadn't died, he thought. Their mouths met again, delicate, kissing like lovers.
Lovers, lovers, lovers, sang Yuchan's head at that moment. Lovers, lovers, lovers, he moaned into the air as his body tensed and he came over Donghun's fist, splashing against Byeongkwan's tummy. The others laughed, giddy, pressed into his body. Donghun's face in the nape of his neck, kissing softly, begging for more with every kiss, for this to not be the last time. Byeongkwan's lips stayed on Yuchan's, agreeing that this couldn't be the only time, the only one.
They whispered how much more they wanted him, wanted each other, wanted this more. Yuchan dizzily remembers Byeongkwan fisting himself until he came against Yuchan's hip, face in the crook of his neck, Donghun's right there as well, pressing him down as they kissed. Donghun curled and curved his body against Yuchan's, cock hard against his ass, until he came with a small moan, muttering their names against Yuchan's neck and Byeongkwan's lips.
Yuchan faintly remembers them cleaning him up so gently, pulling his shorts back on him before they cleaned themselves up. He remembers Byeongkwan shirtless, pressed against one side, hand over Yuchan's stomach, Donghun against the other, hand over Yuchan's stomach. Their heads near Yuchan's head on the pillows they piled onto his bed weeks ago, to claim their territory in some fashion.
Yuchan remembers falling asleep sated, bones tired from wanting for so long. He remembers this with pink edges, fuzzy, gentle on his heart. He remembers their kiss goodnight, their promise that this is something, that they'd speak of it later, but this is something.
Yuchan was their something, their someone. They were his, too, they knew. They knew his love, scared before to take it, but always aware.
Yuchan remembers that with fondness, his first steps into paradise, slowly.