Work Text:
Thursday, 6 a.m.
Minghao wakes without need of an alarm, as usual. He blinks slowly, lifting a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, and tries to sit up. He finds, to his mild annoyance, that he is pinned underneath the combined arm strength of his two boyfriends and cannot extricate himself without shoving violently at their shoulders until they each let out a sleepy mumble and roll away from him.
It always ends up like this: Minghao tries to sleep on the edge of the bed because he wakes up first, and his boyfriends, as sweet as they are, are whiny and grumpy when awoken before 7 o’clock. He therefore tries to be considerate and remove the need to clamber over the slumbering forms of Mingyu and Seokmin, but somehow no matter where he starts the night he always ends up squished between the two of them. He also always wakes up sweating, because having two boyfriends who seem to be human radiators is all well and good when it’s winter and there’s snow on the ground and Minghao has a desperate need to be cuddled, but when it’s the middle of summer and there’s no escape from their embraces he finds himself unpleasantly sticky. There is only one situation where Minghao is ok with being sticky, and while his boyfriends are involved there too they usually have far fewer clothes on.
Once he has carefully extracted himself from the bed, he gathers up the clothes he had laid out for today last night and takes them with him into the bathroom. Minghao has a routine, crafted to perfection by years of finding out exactly how long each activity takes (with time built in for the occasional interruption by one of the two sweet and clingy men he has chosen to share his life with). He showers, which takes exactly eight minutes, then dries himself and applies his meticulously organised skin- and hair-care products before dressing. Today, he has selected a pale yellow shirt embroidered with pink flowers on the cuffs and collar which he neatly half-tucks into a pair of cream-coloured linen trousers.
As always, Minghao is done with his daily preparations by 6:30am, at which point he makes his way to their comfortably appointed living room and begins his daily 30 minutes of meditation.
7:00am
Minghao is in the kitchen, waiting as his cup of jasmine tea brews, when the hulking mass that is Kim Mingyu comes stumbling through the door. He rubs sleepily at his eyes, only half paying attention as he drops a quick kiss onto Minghao’s cheek.
“Morning, love.” Mingyu mumbles, already reaching into the cupboard for his favourite mug. The coffee machine on the counter is his prized possession, and the thing he loves second most in the world after Minghao and Seokmin, and Mingyu gives Minghao a proper kiss this time in gratitude for his thoughtful boyfriend turning on the machine and putting in the grounds before Mingyu even made it out of the bathroom.
“Good morning. Your breath smells horrible.” Minghao says, but leans in for another kiss anyway as the hum of the coffee maker fills the room.
“I’ll go brush my teeth once I’ve had breakfast, I promise! Have you eaten yet?”
Minghao gestures to the plates on the side, three carefully distributed portions of vegetable omelette waiting to be eaten. “Not yet. I was waiting for you two, I only just finished cooking.”
Mingyu presses a grateful kiss to the side of Minghao’s head and scoops up one of the plates, immediately shovelling half of it into his mouth in a single bite with his chopsticks. “’S goof,” he mumbles, mouth still full, and Minghao tries to not be disgusted at the sight of mushed-up omelette.
“You look like you’re in a hurry.” Minghao takes a much smaller bite, raising an eyebrow.
Mingyu nods, washing down his hastily consumed breakfast by chugging the entire cup of coffee in a move that Minghao finds both terrifying and a little bit sexy. “The new books we ordered for the school read-a-thon are arriving this morning, so I need to go in early to get them.”
Minghao nods, opening the fridge and pulling out Mingyu’s lunchbox. It’s a vibrant blue, with a cartoon image of a donut and text reading ‘Donut worry, be happy!’ on the lid, and Mingyu loves it with all of his heart.
“Don’t forget your lunch again.” Minghao says, holding it out to Mingyu as he rushes around their living room and entryway, both connected to the kitchen, gathering his belongings and shoving them in his backpack. He gives Minghao a thankful smile and disappears into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, Seokmin sleepily pokes his head out of their bedroom, hair still rumpled but otherwise dressed. He’s wearing an old college sweatshirt and a pair of paint-splattered jeans, mismatched socks on his feet.
Minghao raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re wearing that to work?”
Seokmin nods and smiles, spotting the final plate awaiting him and making a beeline for it. He too, stuffs an unreasonable amount of omelette into his mouth before speaking.
Ok, sure, Minghao has a type.
“We have a messy arts and crafts session for under-fives in the morning, no point in wearing something that I’d be sad to get paint, glue, and glitter on.” Seokmin shrugs, continuing to shovel his food into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.
Mingyu comes crashing out of the bathroom, bag swinging as he hurries past his boyfriends and gives them both rushed, minty kisses as he makes a beeline for the door. “I’m off, I’ll see you when I’m home!”
“Mingyu?” Minghao calls.
“Yes, honey bunch?”
Minghao ignores the nickname, as he always does. “Your chin is covered in toothpaste and you’re holding two shoes that don’t match. And one of them is Seokmin’s.”
Mingyu looks down at the shoes he’s in the process of putting on. “I thought this one felt uncomfortable.” He switches the shoes and wipes absently at his chin, failing to get any of the toothpaste.
“I’ve got you, dude!” Seokmin says, hurrying over and wiping the toothpaste away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. They smile brilliantly at each other, and Minghao watches them fondly for a second before Mingyu quickly kisses the top of Seokmin’s head and throws out a last goodbye as he dashes out of the door.
Two minutes later, Minghao finds Mingyu’s house keys on their bedside table.
8:00am
Minghao sits down at his desk and logs into his computer, opening up the file he’d been working on the previous day. He’s developing a new pattern for a fabric, and has been given more free reign than ever by his bosses. It’s both exciting and terrifying, because if this design sells well it puts him in a great position for a promotion or at least a bonus when he gets his performance review in a few months.
But if it goes wrong, then… well, he doesn’t really want to think about that possibility.
He’s quietly confident that he’ll do well, though, in due part to the overwhelming amounts of praise Mingyu and Seokmin have been heaping on him over the last few weeks as he’s gone through endless rounds of concepts, revisions, and developments. Although neither one of them would profess to be exactly skilled when it comes to having a designer’s eye for fashion, they’ve both made a concerted effort to pay attention to Minghao’s tastes. Mostly because they like buying him clothes for his birthday, and as much as he loves the thought they put into it Minghao doesn’t think he can cope with receiving another hideous jumper for as long as he lives.
Their unwavering belief in him has also come in very handy while he’s been working on the presentation of his final design to his bosses. Seokmin and Mingyu have much more experience talking to large groups of kids than they do designers and executives, but they’re both charming and personable and give great advice on public speaking, so going over his presentation with them a few more times is exactly what he needs to make it a perfect success. Maybe at the weekend, when they have two whole days of uninterrupted time together. He rarely says it, but weekends are his favourite.
His coworker, Soonyoung, bounces over to his desk about an hour into the work day offering coffee and Minghao gratefully accepts. Soonyoung is very loud, regularly very distracting, and despite his talent for both art and leadership seems to have no desire to fight his way to the top which Minghao finds both confusing and frustrating. He also owes Soonyoung a lot, because it was through him that he met Seokmin and Mingyu.
Soonyoung hadn’t really given Minghao a choice in their friendship. They’d started around the same time, and had enough of the same interests that they could make small talk over their lunch break, and they respected each other’s work even if Minghao found himself baffled by Soonyoung’s process. So when, about two months after he’d started working at the company, Soonyoung had invited Minghao to a bar to celebrate his birthday he’d agreed with minimal coercion.
It was during that alcohol-soaked gathering that Minghao met Mingyu and Seokmin. He had told both of them that they were incredibly hot, and they had both blushed and given him stuttering, bashful compliments. Within the span of an evening, he had discovered that the two hot men were also both totally adorable, incredibly sweet, and dumb as two boxes of rocks. Not that they weren’t intelligent – as a librarian and an education officer at a museum, they were clearly well-educated and full of thoughtful opinions. It was more that they gave off a general impression of being entirely unaware of the world around them. Seokmin had spilled three drinks over the course of the night, Mingyu left his phone unattended at the bar twice, and the pair of them had gotten so enthused while dancing with Minghao that they’d accidentally bumped into a server and had apologised so profusely that he thought Seokmin might actually cry.
He’d also found out that they’d been dating for a few months after about a year of knowing each other, and that they’d really like to take him out on a date too.
That had been three years ago, and now Minghao had two wonderful boyfriends, a comfortable home, a higher salary, and a shot at promotion. It had been, all in all, a wise decision to befriend Soonyoung.
11:30am
Group Chat: The Playboy 2-Bed Flat
SunSeok: Minghao, my beloved, my precious, the light of my life
Myunghoe: Yes, I know you forgot your lunch. I’ll drop it off for you when I’m on my break.
MingPup: My sweetiepies are having lunch without me? I feel abandoned
Myunghoe: You and Seokmin had lunch without me yesterday.
SunSeok: Don’t worry baby, we’ll all have lunch together tomorrow!
MingPup: I love you baby!
SunSeok: I love you too sweetcheeks!
MingPup: I love you more sugarplum!
Myunghoe: I’m begging you to please stop.
SunSeok: Don’t worry honeybunch, we love you too!
MingPup: We love you so much sunbeam!
Myunghoe has muted the chat.
1:00pm
Minghao is always very grateful that the museum Seokmin works at is only a five minute walk away from his office, because sometimes he needs nothing more than to escape the overwhelming pressure-filled atmosphere of a room filled with junior designers desperate to get ahead. So at one o’clock on the dot, he locks his computer, picks up his chic leather messenger bag, and waves to Soonyoung as he makes a beeline for the door.
Stepping from the street into the museum, he’s immediately hit by a cacophony of giggles, screaming, and what appear to be the sounds of home-made rattles. Seokmin comes bouncing out of a side room with a wide smile on his face, waving goodbye to the kids and their guardians as they make their way out of the activity room and are unleashed upon the rest of the gallery.
“Hey honey! Perfect timing, I just finished up with the kids. We were making cardboard instruments, since we have that exhibition on music halls going on at the moment. Come into the office, I’ll make you some tea.” Seokmin leans over and gives Minghao a kiss, goes in for a crushing hug but is stopped with a firm hand to his chest.
“Seokmin, I love you, but if you get paint and glitter on this shirt you will face the consequences.”
Seokmin pouts, but steps back, deciding to link their fingers together in a loose hand-hold as he pulls his boyfriend towards the staff office. Minghao smiles at his broad back before waving politely to Chan, the sweet young volunteer sitting on the front desk. Chan greets him with a wide smile as the pair disappear into the kitchen.
Minghao drops down into one of the chairs at the small table tucked away in the corner, mindlessly trailing his fingers over the wooden surface. It’s stained with years of rings from mugs of tea and coffee, has traces of paint and glue and the desiccated remnants of stickers pressed firmly into it. Seokmin flits around the kitchenette as the kettle boils, pulling out mugs and teabags before calling out to both Chan and Seungcheol, the museum’s manager, asking if either of them would like drinks. Minghao watches him with a soft smile, feeling the stress of the morning’s work melting out of him.
There’s something about the way Seokmin moves, full of life and energy and magnetism, that makes Minghao feel at peace. Minghao, who had always preferred peace and quiet and a minimalist lifestyle. Seokmin and Mingyu had brought vibrancy into a muted life – not better, per say, but certainly different. They balance him out, and in turn he supports them. Minghao is grounded, organised, channels his creativity into his work and his clothing. Seokmin and Mingyu are lively, messy, and can’t seem to control the sheer force of positivity they bring to everything they do. It makes them work as a trio better than any pair of them could alone, and Minghao is always thankful for that.
Seokmin plops down on the chair opposite him, pushing a chipped mug full of steaming hot tea across the table to him as Minghao brings out their lunchboxes. He eats in small, careful bites, making sure not to drop or spill anything on his clothing – these trousers are, after all, dry-clean only. Seokmin, meanwhile, practically inhales his food, clearly starving after a morning of corralling children and organising the millions of other things required of a learning officer in a museum with so many community links.
He fills Minghao’s lunch hour with enjoyable chatter, beginning with a beat-for-beat recounting of the morning’s event then trailing off to wonder whether it would be possible to play classical music on a guitar made out of cereal boxes and elastic bands. Minghao listens, laughing and smiling in a way he rarely did outside of his boyfriend’s company.
Leaving to return to work is difficult.
4:00pm
The phone resting on his desk rings as Minghao is in the middle of making some minor tweaks to the weave of the fabric, and he picks it up with one hand.
“Hello?” He asks, unsurprised by the timing of the call. The previous evening he had asked Mingyu and Seokmin to do their weekly grocery shop, since they’d both finished work early today. He’d put the shopping list in their group chat, clear and exact about everything they would need.
Of course there would be issues.
“Darling, which brand of tinned tomatoes do we use?” Mingyu’s worried voice comes through the speaker.
Minghao pinches the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter. Just get the cheapest ones, we’re going to cook them into a sauce anyway.”
“But there are two different brands that are 35p each, which one is better?” Seokmin also sounds distressed. He’s clearly on speakerphone in the middle of the supermarket. Minghao feels a headache coming on.
“Again, it doesn’t matter. I won’t complain.” Minghao checks out of the conversation at this point, returning his focus to the screen.
He can practically hear Mingyu pouting through the phone. “Promise?”
Minghao hums his assent, and the sigh of relief is audible.
“Oh, also, they were out of spring onions so we just got regular onions instead.” Seokmin added, and Minghao sighed.
“I’ll stop somewhere to get some spring onions on the way home.” He almost regrets asking the next question, but he needs to. “Anything else?”
“What’s the difference between baby spinach and regular spinach?”
Minghao hangs up.
5:30pm
The sun is warm on his shoulders as he walks home, leather satchel hanging from one shoulder and loosely carrying a plastic bag containing spring onions and some spinach. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were other things from his shopping list that were missing, but Mingyu is a good cook himself so Minghao is hoping that he has at least picked up enough ingredients to make the food they’ve planned for this week.
A cool breeze pushes his hair back from his face and he idly thinks that it would be nice to go to the beach this weekend, if the weather holds out. Beach trips always make for good dates: Minghao gets to ogle his two hot boyfriends parading around shirtless and relax while reading a good book. Plus, the experience of getting sunscreen rubbed into his back by the strong, careful hands of one of the men he loves is unparalleled.
The gentle way they take care of him is one of the things he loves the most about the pair of them. Mingyu’s height and Seokmin’s strong features often give people the impression that they’re intimidating or imposing, an impression that is dispelled immediately upon either of them speaking. The positivity practically radiates out of them, even if Mingyu has a tendency to whine and Seokmin is prone to pouting at the slightest problem.
He starts to feel soft and warm on the inside as he thinks about them, until he gets a message from Mingyu which contains no text, just a picture of Seokmin’s ass with a floury handprint on it. Minghao sighs, rolls his eyes, and smiles to himself as he approaches their building.
Minghao steps through the front door of their apartment, calling out a greeting as he toes off his shoes and puts down his bag. The enticing smell of rich Bolognese is floating out of the kitchen, and Minghao finds himself drawn towards it.
Seokmin is focusing intensely on stirring the sauce, keeping the spoon moving and staring at the pot as if it will burn the instant he takes his eyes off of it. His ass is still covered in flour.
He turns towards Minghao, letting go of the spoon in order to gather his smaller boyfriend into a hug. As soon as his fingers uncurl, the spoon flips over the edge of the pot and sends a small spray of bolognese sauce over the countertop. Seokmin doesn’t appear to notice, pressing a sweet kiss to Minghao’s lips.
“Hey baby! Dinner will be ready soon, I’m just keeping an eye on it while Mingyu’s pooping.”
“Too much detail, Seokmin.”
Mingyu bounces back into the kitchen, kissing both of them as he returns to cooking. “Sweetie-pie, we bought flowers while we were out food shopping! Seokmin wanted to arrange them but I thought you’d have opinions.”
Minghao smirks, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Mingyu’s cheek. “You know me so well. Seokmin, you can hold the flowers while I arrange them.”
Seokmin nods excitedly, dragging him out of the kitchen.
6:30pm
Mingyu calls out from the kitchen, interrupting Seokmin and Minghao’s intense discussion about the arrangement of the flowers.
“Dinner’s ready, my loves!”
Plates piled with home-made pasta and sauce are laid out alongside their mismatched cutlery sets, a strange silver signifier of the places they’ve lived before the universe brought them together. They cram themselves around the small table and begin eating, initially quiet in their shared enjoyment of Mingyu’s delicious cooking.
“So how were your days, my honeys?” Mingyu asks around a mouthful of pasta.
Minghao nods. “Good, mostly. I’m nearly finished with the design and the presentation just needs some tweaking. If you guys could help me go over it again that would probably help a lot.”
Seokmin and Mingyu salute solemnly in unison, their serious expressions slightly marred by the way their cheeks bulge with spaghetti.
“Can do! And my day was good too! Chan managed to field all of my emails today so I could get on with planning the school sessions I’m delivering next week, and Seungcheol signed off on the educational materials I’ve been compiling for the last month so they’re all ready to be printed.” Seokmin says, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. Minghao smiles softly at him, feels a warm glow of pride settle in his chest at how much Seokmin has managed to achieve at his museum despite a tiny budget and a noticeable lack of staff. His boyfriend is so sweet and dedicated to those kids, and it makes his heart feel tight as he’s hit with an overwhelming wave of affection.
“I’m so proud of you babycakes! I knew you’d get it approved, you’ve worked so hard on that project.” Mingyu reaches across the table and gently pats Seokmin’s head, ruffling his hair slightly.
“Well done Seokmin, that’s really impressive.” Minghao wraps his long fingers around Seokmin’s arm and squeezes softly, before turning his attention to Mingyu. “How was your day?”
Mingyu nods enthusiastically, swallowing a frankly alarming amount of pasta before speaking. “Great! The read-a-thon got off to a great start, mostly because it was Wonwoo’s class today and they’re a lovely bunch of kids.”
While Minghao himself doesn’t understand the joy that Mingyu and Seokmin get out of being surrounded by sticky, screaming children every day, he has to admit that there’s something weirdly sexy about how good the two of them are at their work. Seeing Seokmin carefully wiping tears from the face of a kid who’s arts and crafts project has broken before making them giggle until they’ve forgotten what they were sad about, watching Mingyu have endless patience as he helps a gaggle of children pick out books they’ll enjoy, it sets off something instinctive in his brain that makes him want to drag one or both of them off to their bedroom and not emerge until they have a child of their own.
The fact that he’s fully aware that none of them have wombs never seems to dull that urge.
Minghao shifts in his seat a little, a low thrum of arousal sparking in his gut unbeknownst to the two men who are responsible for it. It takes him the rest of dinner to calm down again.
8:00pm
With their plates cleaned and put away, Mingyu and Seokmin make a bee-line for their TV and are almost immediately immersed in a very intense game of Mario Kart. When the two of them play without Minghao, they have an honour code; no attacking each other unless they’re on the final lap of the race. This code is only in place when it’s just the two of them because, as Mingyu regularly points out, no human law can control Minghao when there is a possibility of victory placed in front of him.
Instead of picking up the third controller and joining in, Minghao settles himself comfortably on the sofa behind the pair and picks up his book. He switches back and forth between reading and giving unhelpful commentary on all the ways that Mingyu and Seokmin are doing terribly at the game.
“Baby! Watch out, Bowser is in second right now and he has a blue shell!” Seokmin calls out a warning to Mingyu, who is narrowly holding onto first place. Toad, Mingyu’s avatar, narrowly avoids getting knocked out of first place as Seokmin’s Yoshi bumps Bowser off the track.
“Thanks sweetie, you’re the best!” Mingyu grins widely as he speaks.
They’ve been playing for almost an hour at this point, and Minghao is still feeling a little bit of the simmering arousal he’s been holding on to since dinnertime. He’s in a very particular mood tonight, and so he shuts his book and slips down onto the floor behind his two sweetly oblivious men.
He leans forward, places his lips against the shell of Seokmin’s ear and feels a flash of satisfaction at the shiver he feels run across Seokmin’s skin. Yoshi wobbles on the screen as Seokmin’s fingers twitch.
“I’m bored of watching you play against each other. I’d rather watch you play with each other.”
Seokmin lets out a little whine as Toad zooms across the finish line as Yoshi falls behind, Mingyu letting out a triumphant whoop and turning to his partners. His eyes go a little wide as he takes in the heated look in Minghao’s eyes.
Minghao smirks. “I want both of you naked on the bed in the next five minutes.”
9:00pm
Minghao waits in the living room as Seokmin and Mingyu scramble for the bedroom, shedding clothing as they go. They’ll have to tidy up later, but right now Minghao can’t quite bring himself to care.
He loves their sex life, mostly because his boyfriends would do anything to make him happy which means no matter what he’s in the mood for, the pair of them are always down for it. Sometimes Minghao wants to rail someone, sometimes he wants to get railed, sometimes he wants to switch between riding both of their cocks and forcing them to hold the edge of their orgasm for hours at a time.
Today, though, Minghao slowly saunters towards the bedroom and smiles as he sees his two obedient boys waiting for him, both stripped down to nothing and trading slow, sweet kisses. He stays quiet as he drops himself down into the comfortable chair in the corner of this room, placed there for just this purpose. Minghao watches for a moment, then clears his throat to get their attention.
“You’re going to keep me entertained, right? Do everything I ask when I ask you to do it?”
Seokmin and Mingyu nod enthusiastically, and their earnestness makes Minghao smirk. He wants to make them cry.
“Mingyu, get on your hands and knees. Seokmin, I want you to open him up nicely, ok?” Minghao says, almost laughing at the haste with which they scramble into position.
They’re already clearly turned on because it takes less than five minutes for Mingyu to be face-down against the sheets, panting and whimpering as Seokmin fingers him open.
“How does it feel, Mingyu?” Minghao asks, a hint of mocking to his tone.
Mingyu whines, pushes back against Seokmin’s hand. “So good, Hao, he feels so good, please, wanna get fucked…”
Minghao clicks his tongue. “Needy puppy. Seokmin, stop. Mingyu, turn around and get his cock nice and wet.”
Seokmin does as he’s told, sitting back on his haunches as Mingyu hurries to spin to face Seokmin. He’s not quite fully hard, and so Mingyu takes his cock into his mouth down to the hilt almost instantly. Seokmin moans, his hips bucking slightly. The wet sound of Mingyu’s throat opening up for Seokmin’s cock mixed with the sight of it has Minghao popping the button on his trousers and slipping his hand into his underwear. He teases himself lightly, enjoying the show.
“Is he doing a good job, Seokmin?” Minghao asks, and Seokmin nods so wildly he almost knocks himself over with the force of it.
“He’s so good, it’s so wet, I’m gonna cum!” He’s writhing slightly, fingers curling in Mingyu’s hair and pulling roughly.
Minghao tuts. “Mingyu, stop.”
Mingyu pulls off with a whine, pouting. His face is covered in spit and tears, lips red and puffy. Minghao keeps moving his hand slowly over his own cock, enjoying the way both of them stare. Their chests are heaving, gasping for breath in their desperation.
“Mingyu, on your back with your legs spread. Hold your knees up, I want a good view when Seokmin fucks you.”
They’re so good for him, getting into position as soon as the words leave his mouth. Seokmin settles himself between Mingyu’s legs, waiting for Minghao’s nod before he slowly starts to push his cock into Mingyu’s ass. Mingyu cries out, wanton and needy, begging incoherently for Seokmin to go faster.
But Seokmin only listens to Minghao, and so he keeps his thrusts slow and even until Minghao tells him it’s ok to speed up. His hips slap against Mingyu’s ass, his rhythm irregular as he gets closer to the edge.
“Baby, please, I need to cum!” Seokmin’s head is dropped down against Mingyu’s shoulder so he doesn’t see the disappointed look on Minghao’s face. He hears it in his voice, though.
“No. What kind of pup would you be if you couldn’t make your bitch cum first? You only cum when Mingyu does. Be good, now.”
Seokmin almost cries, changing his pace and angle so that he’s nailing Mingyu’s prostate on every thrust. Mingyu is moaning and babbling and it’s music to Minghao’s ears. He stands, shedding his trousers and pants as he walks over to the bed. The hand not wrapped around his cock threads its way into Mingyu’s hair, pulling hard and making him scream with pleasure.
“Now, you’re a good little bitch, aren’t you? You can cum just from getting fucked, can’t you? Taking this horny puppy’s cock like a good slut.” Minghao murmurs, just loud enough for Mingyu to hear. Mingyu nods, straining against the hand in his hair, and he screams as Seokmin fucks him harder, deeper. It takes less than a minute for his back to arch off the bed, his screams devolving into endless streams of moaning as he cums all over his own stomach.
Seokmin slows slightly, fucking Mingyu through his orgasm, panting desperately as he looks between Mingyu’s fucked-out face and Minghao’s pleased expression. “Please, can I cum now?”
Minghao smiles, leans over to kiss him. “Yes, you can, puppy. You’ve been so good, I’ll even let you decide where you cum.”
Seokmin takes a second to think, absent-mindedly fucking into Mingyu’s limp body. “H-his face, please!”
Minghao nods, and Seokmin carefully pulls out of Mingyu’s ass before scrambling up his body to straddle his chest. Mingyu obediently opens his mouth, face tear-streaked and drool coated and inviting. Seokmin wraps his hand around his own cock, and it takes just a few pumps before he’s cumming in white stripes over Mingyu’s cheeks, chin, tongue. He collapses to the side, rolling onto his back beside Mingyu’s prone form.
The sight of both of them, fucked out and glassy-eyed and looking at him like he put the stars in the sky, pushes Minghao over the edge. He aims his cock at Mingyu’s face too, adding to the picture that he makes with his own cum. Mingyu’s a mess, which is exactly how they like it, and Minghao swipes his finger’s over Mingyu’s face before pushing the mess into his waiting mouth.
The whimper Mingyu lets out at that almost gets him ready for another round.
11:00pm
Once they’re cleaned up and lying in bed, Minghao finds himself wrapped up in two sets of strong arms. Mingyu’s face is buried in his hair, and Seokmin is nuzzling into the junction between his neck and shoulder. They’re both snuffling and snoring gently, and Minghao resigns himself to being overheated and sweaty when he wakes up. There’s no moving his boyfriends once they’re asleep; they’re like beefy logs and Minghao while Minghao keeps himself in shape there’s no way he could shift even one of them when their muscular bodies have gone limp against him.
He closes his eyes, smiling softly to himself. Deep down, he knows that he wouldn’t move them even if he could. This is, after all, where he belongs.