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Jisung is already gone, his lazy head drooping against his chair.
“You okay?” Chan reaches out in slow motion, his palm like fire when it cups Jisung’s cheek.
He tries to say yes, but it comes out garbled, tangled on his tongue. He nods instead.
Beside him, Changbin laughs, and it rolls through the backyard like thunder.
They’re in LA for a series of meetings, an unfamiliar rental house given to them for the week.
It was Jisung who’d bought the weed, a few pre-rolls from the dispensary next to the office building they’ve been in and out of for days.
He doesn’t get high regularly, none of them do, but it’s nice when they come to America. A special treat, he likes to think.
So after their last meeting of the day, they’d sat on the back patio of their house and lit the first joint.
“He’s so gone,” Changbin laughs, and Jisung giggles at the sound.
They’re on the second now, the first one having gone fast between the three of them.
So they take their time with this one, and Jisung’s eyelids are so heavy, but Chan looks like an angel drifting into his space, so he forces them open.
“We shouldn’t give him any more, right?”
“Jisungie,” Changbin sings, “Do you want more?”
He makes another noise, sleepy, but he nods. “Yeah,” His throat moves with his words, finally. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “Don’t wanna move,” He sighs.
“Channie,” Changbin turns, “You wanna share?”
He watches as Chan tilts his head, blinking slowly.
“Here,” Changbin lifts the joint to his lips, pulls the smoke into his mouth, and leans forward.
Cotton fills Jisung’s throat, watching Changbin spill the smoke into Chan’s open mouth.
For a second, he thinks they’re going to kiss, their lips only missing by a centimeter.
His body burns, fire spreading through his veins. It makes his stomach roll over, his dick twitching.
He’s almost positive he makes some sort of embarrassing noise because Changbin turns to laugh at him.
“You want it?” He asks, his eyes all pink and glassy.
For a moment, he forgets what Changbin is asking.
He wants a lot of things right now.
Wants to watch Chan and Changbin makeout, wants to have his dick sucked, wants a bag of hot cheetos even though they make his mouth hurt, wants to be high enough that he feels completely dissolved.
Oh, he thinks, the joint. He does want another hit.
He nods.
Changbin is the one to place the joint between Chan’s lips.
“Open your mouth,” He tells Jisung, “And remember to inhale.”
It happens quickly, Changbin pulling the joint away and Chan leaning into Jisung’s space.
Their lips brush, and Jisung forgets what he’s supposed to do.
Smoke spills around them, and he keeps going forward, moving until his mouth is against Chan’s.
Changbin says something he doesn’t understand, mumbles like they’re underwater.
Chan’s lips are soft against Jisung’s, wet when his tongue darts out to lick them. He moans, the sound echoing in his own ears.
And then Chan pulls away, laughing, and Changbin is shaking his head.
“Did you even hear me?” He asks, and, well.
“Not really,” He breathes, still watching Chan’s mouth.
“Dumbass,” Changbin shakes his head, “Try again.”
So, they try again.
He mostly remembers this time, but his mouth still ends up against Chan’s anyway.
It burns fire through him, screams in his lungs with the smoke.
His hands are putty, but he reaches for Chan anyway, tries to pull them together.
Changbin swats the back of his neck.
“Greedy,” He scolds, his hand warm where he holds Jisung’s nape in his warm palm.
“Please,” He licks his dry lips, “Hyung.”
Chan gets so soft when he’s high, melty in a way he never lets himself be.
“Changbin-ah,” He grins, a little dopey, “Please?”
As if Changbin is their leader, as if they need his permission to do anything.
“Mm.” Changbin considers. “Does he deserve it?”
“Always,” Chan grins lazily.
The only thing that matters in the world then is Chan’s hand on Jisung’s cheek.
And then his mouth back on Jisung’s mouth.
It tastes like syrup and smoke, gentle in a way that makes his teeth ache, and that must be the weed, but it tastes so damn good that all Jisung can do is try to lick it up.
“Good,” Changbin groans in his ear, all the sudden so close that Jisung can feel the heat of his body like a spreading fire.
He moans into Chan’s panting mouth, kicks his hips up the best he can until Changbin’s hand finds his waist to hold him down.
“Feels good?” He whispers into Jisung’s ear, breath like ice meeting the fire beneath his skin.
Jisung whines, “Please, hyung.” His tongue is so thick in his mouth, so heavy.
He feels half-asleep, surrounded in pleasure and smoky fog.
Chan’s hand cupping the shape of his cock bleeds through it all.
“He likes that,” Changbin hums, and Jisung thinks he must be a mindreader.
His smart hyung, he thinks, grinning into Chan’s kiss.
“You want another hit, Jisungie?” Chan kisses the corner of his mouth, smiling.
“Will you jerk me off?” He asks, and then pauses. Thinks. “Shotgun it again?”
“Can’t do anything on your own?” Changbin coos as Chan’s fingers fumble for Jisung’s zipper.
He shakes his head. Not right now, anyway.
“Our cute baby,” Chan pinches Jisung’s cheek with one hand as he palms his cock with the other.
Jisung’s head spins, and his mouth goes cottony as he watches Changbin take a hit of the dwindling joint, his little mouth wrapped around the butt.
“Remember to open,” Chan hums, nosing along the line of his jaw. His hand is dry around Jisung’s cock, calloused thumb pressing against the head as it guides it out from his boxers.
The heat in his belly is the same as the heat in his cheeks, and he keeps his mouth wide as Changbin leans in.
It goes better than the first two times, and he pulls the smoke into his lungs and back out, simmering with it.
Chan’s hand squeezes around the base of his cock, and he moans, head rolling onto his shoulder as he sinks further into the pleasure.
Distantly, he hears Changbin laugh, followed by a slick sound that he can’t feel.
It takes a great amount of effort to open his eyes, unsure of when he even closed them.
He moans, enraptured as Changbin’s hand cups Chan’s jaw, guiding his mouth as they kiss.
His dick throbs in Chan’s grip, his hand not even moving with how deep into Changbin’s kiss he is.
It doesn’t matter, anyway, not with how the head of his cock starts to drip with pre-cum, the feeling rolling through his body,
He fucks his hips up into Chan’s fist, content to find his own release if it means he can keep watching them make out.
And Chan gets so into it when he’s high, melting into every touch, forgetting himself completely.
He pants, open-mouthed against Changbin’s lips, and Jisung bites the inside of his cheek when he notices the bulge in his shorts.
“Hyung,” He whines, pouting.
Neither of them notices his cry, not with the way Changbin is winding a hand around Chan’s hip and sticking his tongue in his mouth like he’s trying to eat him.
“Hyung,” Jisung tries again, rutting his dick against Chan’s palm, “Pay attention to me.”
They break with a gasp, strings of spit keeping their mouth connected, and they turn to Jisung at the same time. Matching blush creeps along their cheeks, twin smiles and hazy eyes.
“Hm, Jisungie?” Chan licks his swollen lip, and Jisung wants to chew on it like gum.
“Don’t ignore me,” He pouts, suddenly shy despite the way Chan’s hand finally tightens on his cock again.
“Sorry, baby,” Changbin says as he reaches out, and suddenly Jisung’s limp body is being pulled into his lap. His back gets pressed to Changbin’s broad chest, his mouth moving to kiss the nape of his neck. “You want to say sorry, Chan-ah?”
Chan nods, mumbles a sorry, and then Changbin is reaching out to cup the back of his head, fingers pushing into short blonde hair, and guiding his head down.
Down, down, spine arching until those bruised lips are brushing the sensitive head of Jisung’s cock.
His head drops back on a moan, landing on Changbin’s shoulder.
For a moment, he thinks he could fall asleep like this. It’s better than any massage he’s ever had, any hot bath or sauna. It’s pure heat, pure pleasure washing over him in soft waves.
Chan’s mouth is plush around him, Changbin’s mouth nipping behind his ear.
“That’s good, Chan-ah,” Changbin hums, guiding his head as he bobs up and down on Jisung’s cock. “Doesn’t he feel good, Jisungie?”
Jisung nods, or he thinks he does. A sound gurgles from the back of his throat.
“Tell him how good he feels.”
“Feels good,” Jisung sighs, “Really good, Channie.”
Chan moans around his cock, little vibrations that shiver down to Jisung’s toes, making them curl and his leg kick.
“He’s about to cum,” Changbin says, and it takes a minute to realize he isn’t talking about Jisung.
It’s a miracle he can even open his eyes this time; everything is bleary before his vision settles on Chan. His hand is shoved down the front of his shorts as he sucks Jisung’s cock, his fist moving frantically beneath the fabric.
“Oh, fuck,” Jisung moans.
His orgasm crests at the same time Chan’s does.
Chan tries to pull away in time, but cum drips from his mouth, stripes across his handsome nose and flushed cheeks.
Jisung can’t even move as it happens, blinking in slow-motion as he watches his cum paint Chan’s face, the fabric of Chan’s shorts going dark with his own release.
He’s boneless against Changbin, breathing in slow.
“Shit,” Chan groans, brow furrowed. It makes his nose wrinkle, and Jisung wants to reach out and touch it.
“Couldn’t help yourself?” Changbin huffs a laugh, and Chan frowns at him.
“Fuck off,” He shakes his head, reaching up to press his fingers to the sticky mess on his face, “Are we going to shower, or what?”
Jisung thinks of the steam, the warm water, and Changbin’s naked thighs. “Fuck yes.”