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Taki doesn’t mean to overhear.
Truly, he doesn’t.
It’s a joyous night, with the their third anniversary with their fans coming to a close, as well as the overwhelming success of their previous comeback and confirmation from the company that they’ll be debuting in Korea in a few months time, there’s a lot to celebrate, and spirits within the group are high.
After the final encore had been concluded and they had bid the fans farewell, the 9 of them had gone out for a meal together, reminiscent of their debut days where group meals had felt magical.
They still do, but after performing 3 shows in 2 days all Taki really wants to do is sleep, and the members, ever so observant, are content to keep this meal lowkey, less rowdy celebration and more quiet appreciation.
The food is pleasant, warm, greasy stuff that they haven’t had the opportunity to indulge in with schedules flowing in back to back, no one brave enough to risk being puffy in the morning and garnering a lecture from their stylists, and when the plates are mostly clear, Taki finds himself extremely content with how the evening has gone, heavy warmth settling in his stomach, eyelids growing heavy, the signs of a good meal taking a hold of his body.
Naturally, no one bats an eye when he turns in for the night, the members making an effort to keep him looped into their conversations as he waits for a manager to arrive to pick him up, and as he grabs his things to leave they kindly inform him that they probably won’t be back till late, as they want to enjoy tonight to the fullest before preparations for their Korean debut begin.
Taki nods in assent, always quick to agree, glad that his bandmates finally have the chance to let loose a little and enjoy a rare night of freedom, and wishes them a good night. He, on the other hand, is all too happy to sit this one out, perfectly content to enjoy his night curled up in bed with a full stomach and the lingering happiness of their achievements running through his mind.
The car ride is uneventful, and when he reaches the dorm he washes up on autopilot. Despite his role as the group's mood maker, at times like these he prefers his own company for this exact reason. There’s no one to pretend to, no one to factor in, and he’s totally free to go about things in his own, unique way.
He’s washed and in bed in a matter of minutes, and with the dorm unusually still and silent, he’s out like a light in no time, thoughts of his favourite stages from the past few days and the genuine excitement of the fans who filled the arenas lulling him into a deep slumber.
Except, it’s clearly not deep enough, as after only an hour or two of sleep he is awakened by a strange rustling sound, coming from the room directly next to him. It's the solo room, belonging to Maki.
Sitting up in a daze, Taki reaches for his phone and checks the time, wondering if the members came back already, but the neon “23:55” that assaults his vision informs him that this is not the case. According to the time, he’s only been asleep for about an hour. Maki must have turned in shortly after him.
He switches his phone off and puts it away, ready to simply roll over and go back to sleep, when the strange noises rouse him once again. It's oddly rhythmic, like a dull object hitting the connecting wall over and over again, and Taki wonders dumbly what the younger could possibly be doing at this time.
He lies awake for a few more moments, waiting to see if the thudding will stop, any time soon, but it doesn’t. Instead, it grows louder, and more forceful. Just what exactly is he doing?
Fumbling for the switch of his bedside lamp, Taki switches it on, illuminating his room in a dull orange glow. A cursory glance tells him that his roommate Jo isn’t home yet, bed still unmade from their rush this morning, and knowing that he doesn’t run the risk of waking him he fumbles around clumsily for his duck slippers with the intention of going to check if his best friend is okay.
Only, he doesn’t make it quite so far.
An unusual, shrill sound echoes through the should be empty dorm, followed quickly by a much lower groan.
Taki halts instantly, slipper clad feet stuck in place. He doesn’t move a muscle, confusion growing infinitely as the thumping gets even louder, and instead waits it out, wondering if he can identify the sounds through the wall instead.
Another high pitched noise travels through the wall, sounding like a wounded animal, but what Taki hears next makes him immediately kick off his slippers and quickly return to his bed.
“Jojo, more, please—“
Taki realises what is happening far too late, and embarrassment burns its way through his body as he realises the situation he’s in.
He’s not surprised, not really. He knows the members tend to fool around with each other sometimes, and isn’t a stranger to hearing things he probably, no— definitely isn’t supposed to, but this is different.
So incredibly different,
Of all the members he could have overheard, did it have to be these two? The two members who seem hell bent on making his life miserable through their endless fanservice?
Well. That’s not entirely true.
In theory, he’s the fanservice menace, he’s the one constantly leaning in and forcing others to dodge his stray kisses, and blatantly flirting with his members at fansigns knowing hundreds of cameras are on him. He gets a kick out of it, really, seeing the fans lose their heads over his at times outrageous shenanigans.
But recently some of the members have started… fighting back, Jo and Maki specifically, and Taki doesn’t quite know how to deal with it.
Besides, this is vastly different from outrageous comments blurted in front of millions of fans waiting to document the interaction on their twitter accounts. There are no cameras here, no staff-given prompts that they can blame once they get too close, just Jo and Maki on the other side of the wall, fucking hard enough to move the bedframe. Fuck.
He groans silently into his pillow, and tries not to imagine what they look like right now.
He pointedly doesn’t think about Maki’s pink hair, and absolutely doesn’t wonder if his nipples and the tip of his cock are a similar shade. He doesn’t. He also doesn’t think about what Jo looks like right now, whether his movements exude his usual easy confidence, or whether desperation mars his features, contorting his expression into one of uncertainty.
When Jo hits a particularly sensitive spot, (at least, that’s what Taki assumes), Maki straight up wails, and Taki pretends not to notice the growing hardness in his pants.
He knows they’re talking, can hear Jo’s soft murmuring through the wall, but the words are lost on him, Jo’s usual quiet speech basically unintelligible through layers of plaster and … other wall stuff.
Before he can think too much about it, he shuffles further up the bed, until he is sitting upright, leaning against his headboard. It’s not weird if he doesn’t make it weird. Or whatever. And he’s definitely not making it weird, he’s just satiating curiosity. He wants to know what exactly Jo is murmuring to Maki because he’s nosy, not because he’s hard and leaking in his shorts.
Like this, ear pressed to the wall like some kind of pervert, he can hear almost everything. Their voices are still muffled, but he can make out the words now at least.
“Do you think you can handle one more?” Jo is asking, his usually soft, gentle tone suddenly gravelly.
Maki doesn’t respond, at first, presumably too fucked out to form words, but the bed suddenly creaks, suggesting that Jo has just delivered a particularly harsh thrust, and Maki cries out once more.
If Taki wasn’t fully hard before, he definitely is now.
“I need you to use your words baby,” Jo soothes, and his voice is softer now, fond and incredibly gentle.
There is silence for a few more beats, likely the youngest trying to scoop up his brain from where it has leaked out of his ears in order to form a coherent sentence. Taki doesn’t dare to even breathe.
Finally, there comes a shaky reply. “I can’t cum again, but I can still help. Just, not inside. Use my mouth, maybe?”
Fuck.
There’s a slightly wet sound, which Taki figures is probably the sound of them making out, and then some shuffling as they readjust positions. While Taki’s pervert brain gives him a pretty good idea of what’s going on, he unfortunately can’t see through walls, so he finds himself left in the dark about their exact position.
There isn’t even enough time for him to be upset about it, because an oddly quiet slapping sound attracts his attention, and oh.
Jo is slapping his cock against Maki’s face.
Taki’s got a hand around himself before he can even fully picture the scene.
There’s another quiet rustling, followed by a wet, sort of gargled sound, and then movement.
It starts off slow, nothing too dramatic, just Jo slowly fucking his cock into Maki’s mouth, but gradually grows in pace and intensity. Soon enough, Jo is pistoning his cock into the youngers mouth, the wet gagging a dead giveaway.
Jo checks in a couple times, making sure he isn’t pushing the younger man too much, but he goes about it in an uncharacteristically mocking way, and as he fucks into his own fist in time to Jo’s thrusts, Taki shamefully imagines it’s him being spoken to like that, imagines it’s him being forced to swallow the older’s length over and over again.
It’s over way too soon.
Jo’s thrusts begin to grow sloppy and erratic as he nears his high, and with a loud groan that Taki will think about for days to come he spills into Maki’s mouth, pulling out with an obscene squelch, and Taki, past the point of caring, gathers his own precum from and smears it over his length. He tightens his grip, hips jerking involuntarily as his mind conjures up images, each more obscene than the last, and when an image of himself fucking the tight wet heat of Maki’s mouth while Jo’s length sits hot and heavy on his tongue flashes across his mind, he cums so hard he sees stars.
Well shit.
He lies there for a while, still reeling from the intense orgasm, and then makes the mistake of pressing his ear to the wall again.
Jo’s quiet voice carries through the walls, murmuring praises addressed to the other, likely carrying out aftercare of some sort. Its definitely not something Taki should be listening to, especially not with his softening dick still exposed to the empty room.
Post-nut clarity hits like a truck, and Taki can only sit there as his brain readily processes what he has just done. Guilt and shame tangle in his stomach, a venomous snake threatening to eat him from the inside out, and he sits, paralysed, as they take their course.
In the end, he doesn’t even get to clean himself up. Jo’s footsteps sound in the corridor all too quickly, leaving Taki with no choice but to shove his still sensitive cock back into his shorts and to throw himself under the covers, pretending to be asleep.
He doesn’t get to turn off the bedside lamp before Jo enters, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He hears Jo’s footsteps walk over to his side of the room and by his bed, and for a scary moment Taki thinks he has been discovered, but the older simply reaches over his head to switch off the lamp and crawls into his own bed.
As per usual, Jo falls asleep almost instantly, but sleep evades Taki for the rest of the night.
—————
Preparations for the Korean debut begin almost immediately, and the 9 of them get buried ankle deep in work.
Taki would love to say that he learns his lesson, and doesn’t jack off to the sounds of his friends fucking again, but he doesn’t. In fact, quite the opposite happens.
In his defence though, Taki does try his best. He avoids the two of them whenever he can, and stops terrorising them through thinly veiled flirting disguised as fanservice.
The two keep fucking in stolen moments, and Taki keeps getting himself off, wishing he could join.
When Maki enters his room one day just to hang out, Taki suddenly remembers he has a vocal lesson that he needs to get to, despite already attending all of his for the weak. He even makes a show of actually going to the company building, because what else can he do? If he takes a left instead of a right and walks right into a secluded bathroom stall instead of the vocal room he ought to be at and fists himself to completion to an image of Maki in the outfit he had been wearing just before Taki ran out on him, that’s nobody’s business but his own.
When Jo shyly comes up to him, asking if he wants to go to the gym with him a few days later, Taki very expertly fakes having a cold. It's a terrible, terrible attempt, and he knows the older isn’t fooled in the slightest if his pinched expression is anything to go by, but Taki can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, not when he finally gets the room to himself and spends the time fingering himself to completion, imagining it’s Jo telling him to cum from his fingers first before getting something better.
Weeks pass by in this manner, and before he knows it September is over, and they’re reaching the final stretch.
Its childish avoidance, but amidst their hectic schedules, and with D-Day looming over them, he gets away with it. The other members simply chalk it down to him being nervous.
As if.
Kei is the only exception to this.
He notices, because of course he does, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. Taki says nothing when he eventually comes asking about it. He doesn’t have to. He also says nothing when Kei rightly assumes it has to do with him blowing off all of Maki and Jo’s attempts to hang out with him, and doing twice the amount of laundry as usual, and says nothing yet again when Kei eventually ups and leaves, telling him he needs to just talk to the both of them, and that he might find things aren’t as complicated as they seem.
He knows the older is right, probably, but how is he supposed to talk to them? He can’t just go “Hey I overheard you two fucking last month, and now i can’t look at either of the two of you without popping a boner. I also can’t get off without imagining hot steamy sex between the three of us, so let me know if that can be arranged sometime, yeah?” Definitely not. He shudders at the mere thought.
Instead, Taki throws himself into practice. The lion does not concern himself with developing a pavlovian response to two of his groupmates. He also does not concern himself with talking about it with them.
In the end, he doesn’t have to.
He has just returned home from solo practice one night, bag still slung lazily across his shoulders, eyes dead in his skull, when he notices it.
A gaze, thoughtful and piercing, boring holes into the side of his skull from the dark sitting room. While Taki is pretty easily spooked, he's slow to react, so when he feels those eyes on him his first instinct is to simply freeze.
Thanks to his sleep deprived state tamping down his usually overactive imagination, he knows he probably isn’t about to be jumped by some extraterrestrial, or abducted by an overly passionate fan; their dorm is on the 14th floor, for God’s sake, but that doesn’t make the feeling of being watched from the dark living room any less unsettling. In fact, it makes it worse.
Calmly, he shuffles towards the light switch on the far wall and flips it on, and when he comes face to face with an unusually serious Maki, who must have been watching something on his phone in the dark prior to his arrival, his heart beat only slightly picks up.
Truth be told, Maki is about the last person Taki would like to see today, especially so late at night with his brain half fried from hours of practicing choreo with counts created by the devil himself.
He isn’t even doing anything really, just… sitting there, watching him, but Taki stands rooted in his spot, pinned under the weight of the younger’s gaze.
“You’re still up?” The words slip past Taki’s lips naturally, despite there being nothing natural about the current situation. Why was Maki just sitting in the dark? Was he waiting for him?
His voice seems to snap Maki out of his thoughts, because he startles slightly, before clearing his throat.
“Yeah. Kei hyung said you’d be staying later today, so I waited up,” comes the reply. His words are awkward and stilted, an accurate representation of the current state of their relationship, and Taki sighs internally, wishing the younger could be less thoughtful. “We ordered your favourite earlier, and i saved you some. It’s on the counter if you want some,” he tacks on, like it’s an afterthought.
Something in Taki’s chest squeezes, and the feeling he has been trying to tamp down for over a month threatens to resurface from where he has buried them.
Oh he wants some, alright, but he can’t. Taki has never been a strong man, and he knows his limits. Especially when it comes to Maki.
He knows he’s been shifty lately, knows that this meal is probably the younger attempting to bridge some of the distance between them, and he knows that the awkwardness that hangs in the air between them is entirely his fault, but he can’t help it, not when the mere idea of spending time with the younger in the closed confines of their kitchen is enough to make blood rush south.
He really needs to get to his room.
“Sorry. I ate earlier, during the break,” he lies, fiddling with the straps of his bag like they can save him.
Maki doesn’t even attempt to hide his disappointment, frown marring his usually cheerful face, and his voice is oddly wobbly when he responds. Taki really hopes the younger isn’t about to start crying.
“Can we just talk?”
It's a suggestion, a mere olive branch extended between them. There’s no trace of command in the younger’s voice, and his words are laced with uncertainty, rather than authority.
He’s trying, to fix this, which is more than Taki has done, and in the end it's this shameful realisation paired with the rapidly forming tears in Maki’s eyes that makes Taki shakily agree.
The quiet sigh of relief as well as the small smile the younger offers him momentarily eases the panic that washes over him as they quietly leave the sitting room together.
The walk down the corridor is quiet, but slightly less tense than their encounter in the living room, so Taki takes it as a small comfort, but that comfort instantly washes away when Maki walks straight past his solo room, and instead stops in front of Taki’s room, the one he shares with Jo.
Its one thing to talk about… this with Maki. It's another thing entirely to talk to both of them together.
At Taki’s questioning glance, Maki sighs.
“This involves him just as much as it does me, and you know it,” is all he says, before raising a hand to knock.
Despite Taki’s internal prayers that Jo will be fast asleep and they won’t be able to talk tonight, a quiet “come in” comes from inside, and when Maki pushes open the door, what he is met with is not a half asleep Jo like he had hoped, but a fully awake one, perched on Taki’s bed like he’s been waiting.
Did they plan this?
Helplessly, Taki watches as the two share a long look, and feels an emotion he can’t yet name well up inside of him as Jo wordlessly moves further up the bed to make room for the two of them, and waves them over.
Briefly, he considers turning tail and running back to his room, but Maki places a gentle, guiding hand on his back and steers him towards the bed, essentially sealing his fate.
His face betrays nothing as he climbs onto the bed, a heavy silence settling over them as they regard each other in silence. Taki knows he has to say something, knows that he shouldn’t let this silence continue when he’s the root cause of this whole thing, but breaking the silence means admission, and admission means coming clean and revealing just how perverted he really is.
Panic once again threatens to flood him, but he forces himself to bear it. They are an idol group after all, he can’t avoid this situation forever.
“Taki,” Jo begins, in that ever so soft register. “Do you want to tell us what’s going on?”
No. He doesn’t. But does he have a choice?
“I,” he begins, knowing he needs to just spit it out already, so this nightmare can end, “I heard you guys, that night. After AndDay.”
With his silence finally broken, Taki takes the opportunity to stutter through a rushed explanation, starting from the night he overhead them. He keeps his eyes glued to a random spot in his quilted blanket as he admits to spending most of his evenings with a hand wrapped around himself, tugging himself to completion to the memory of their twin moans, or to images that range from totally innocent to completely lewd, and once he starts explaining he finds he can’t stop. He feels like a sinner at confession, unable to withhold anything under the weight of their gazes, and when he finally finishes he can only suck in a breath as he awaits their judgement.
To his surprise and slight confusion, judgement never comes.
Rather than outrage, he’s met with a silence so heavy he begins to think he would have preferred the judgement.
Just when the silence begins to suffocate him and Taki begins to think it would be better if he just left, and maybe slept in the couch for the night, Jo’s firm voice cuts through it.
“Taki, can you look at us please?”
Well then. That’s about the last thing Taki wants to do right now if he’s being honest, but he’s in no position to refuse, so he hangs his shame and raises his head.
He’s not sure what kind of expression he expects to see when he hesitantly meets their gazes, anger maybe, disgust definitely, but it’s certainly not amusement.
Jo, bless him, tries to keep a straight face. His expression is definitely forced, and the corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards at odd intervals, but he’s trying, which Taki kind of appreciates. Maki on the other hand, looks three long inhales away from bursting into a fit of guffaws, and while its miles and leagues better than getting cursed out, Taki isn’t quite sure he feels like getting lectured about staying up so close to their debut by an exasperated Euijoo come tomorrow morning.
Thankfully, Jo seems to share his train of thought. He shoots the youngest a look, with a hand placed strategically on his thigh, before swiftly interjecting before the other can even get a word out.
“You know, this all could’ve ended so much quicker if you just… told us, right?”
Taki’s ears burn with humiliation. Getting on stage and forgetting the entire choreo would probably be less embarrassing.
“What… do you mean?”
The elder simply shrugs. “You should’ve told us. You could’ve saved us a ton of awkwardness.”
Well isn’t that something?
Shame crawls its way up his spine, settling warmly at the base of his neck. Is getting lectured by two of your bandmates who you’ve jacked off to more times in the past month than you have in your entire life supposed to feel this humiliating?
“I wasn’t sure if…” he trails off, intending to leave it there, and then swiftly continues after catching sight of the pointed looks thrown his way, “you guys would reciprocate. I didn’t want to ruin the relationship between you guys, or make things difficult, or…”
As soon as the final words leave his mouth, the invisible force that had been holding Maki’s amusement back finally give way, and the youngest’s giggles quickly fill the room. The sound is contagious, quickly infecting Jo, and then Taki himself, and soon all three of them are a heap of giggles.
“You’ve tried to kiss both of us, multiple times.” Jo finally manages to grit out, when his laughter finally eases.
“I thought it was just fanservice,” Taki replies earnestly, ears and neck still a deep shade of red. Of course, this only just sets Maki off again, leaving Jo to continue this humiliation ritual.
“Maki flirts with you in English constantly.”
“I thought he was just.. helping me out as a favour,” he offers with a sheepish smile.
“Helping you out as a favour?” Jo asks incredulously, at the same time Maki blurts, “We changed the layout of the solo room so we’d be right next to your wall every time we fuck.”
“I thought — wait, you did what?”
“… You didn’t know?” Maki asks, amusement making way for slight confusion.
Taki, doubly confused and extremely embarrassed, can only stare at the two of them in stunned silence and shake his head.
“Oh. We put the bed closer to the wall. We wanted you to hear.”
We wanted you to hear.
Once again, Taki is stunned into silence
Out of context, these words are innocent enough, but Taki’s dog brain betrays him, and in the end he can’t control the way the admission makes his cock twitch in interest. Curse him and his dog-brain.
Of course, both Jo and Maki notice, because why wouldn’t they? The universe seems absolutely hell bent on humiliating him tonight anyway, so why not hammer the nail in the head already.
The tense, awkward atmosphere from earlier disappears, and a different sort of tension seeps into the atmosphere. There are a couple ways this could go, and Taki would really like the option where they go at it like rabbits and fuck the rest of the tension and awkwardness away, but unfortunately, they have a long day of practice ahead of them tomorrow.
Fucking now is simply not a responsible idea, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any other outcomes.
“Baby, I think Taki likes the sound of that. Look at him, he’s like a gust of wind away from popping a boner,” Jo teases, and his voice sounds… different. Laced with something falsely sweet, highly addictive in nature. Taki wants to hear more.
He half expects Maki to laugh again, maybe make a small joke at his expense, but to his absolute horror Maki whines, loud and drawn out, and unsurprisingly, the sound goes straight to his dick.
“Oh?” Jo croons. “Do you like that sweetheart? You like that Taki can’t control himself around us?”
If Taki thought he was affected by Jo, his semi has nothing on Maki, who nods vigorously.
“Look at him,Taki. Look at the effect you have on him. Dumb puppy can’t even keep it in his pants long enough to have a serious conversation,” Jo teases, causing a pout to form on Maki’s lips. “Stupid mutt can’t go five minutes without wanting to have his brains fucked out, isn’t that right?”
The sound Maki makes in response is downright sinful, and if Taki wasn’t hard before (he was), he definitely is now.
Taki’s heavy gaze flits between the two of them, lingering slightly on Jo as if trying to gauge his reaction. The question is evident in his eyes, an unspoken “can I?” dancing between them, and if Jo wasn’t already straining through his sweatpants he’d be extremely endeared by how careful Taki is still being, despite having just admitted to being a qualified pervert.
Instead, Jo responds with a question of his own, eyes flitting to Maki momentarily, before returning to Taki.
The challenge is clear: I don’t know, can you?
And well, who is Taki to say no?