Archive of Our Own

With a groan, Joshua closes his web browser, wrenches himself off his bed, and throws his phone on the mattress so hard it nearly bounces straight onto the floor. He sighs in relief. It was nice, momentarily, to cast the blame on his iPhone, but he just got the newest model, and his admittedly particular self-image does, in fact, keep him from using a screen protector. But having a shattered screen is an even worse look than being perceived as valuing his belongings, so it must be his one last shred of luck that stops his phone from being catapulted onto the hardwood. 

Unfortunately, the ticket for the next flight out of Nice is sitting pretty at 3 million won. Not to mention all the money he’s already paid for the accommodation and deposits on reservations throughout the trip. As much as Joshua has been known to make the occasional unreasonable financial decision, a 3 million won plane ticket to flee his luxury vacation is pushing it. 

Not that he was looking seriously, but he thought that having an escape plan in his back pocket might make this all a little more bearable. 

The thing is, Joshua really did want to come back to the south of France. 

And for the most part, he’d really quite like to stay. Outside his bedroom, mere feet away, there is a chaise for him to sunbathe upon, and there’s nothing more he’d like to do than fetch his lemon water, grab the book he’s going to pretend to read, and lie down until the hours bleed together and it’s time for a glass of wine. 

However, Joshua seems to have underestimated the strength of his own will, which is turning out to be far flimsier than he could have ever imagined. To say he’s disappointed in himself doesn’t cover the half of it, but perhaps he should’ve known better, because this is not the first time this has happened. 

Slightly less than a year ago, one moment Joshua had the taste of a delicate Syrah blend from the Rhone Valley on his lips, and the next thing he knew, he’d landed in bed with Kim Mingyu. After a mildly public and considerably raunchy display of affection on their hotel balcony and the closest Joshua has been to coming in his pants since he was in high school, the wavering dam between them met its breaking point. The rest of their weeklong trip ambling around the Cote d’Azur wound up unfolding mostly as Joshua had expected it would, only whenever they had a spare moment in a private room, it ended with their hands on each other. Joshua wasn’t sure the last time he shared a bed with someone for so many nights in a row, but Mingyu sure knew how to make it worth his while. 

But a trip is a trip, and though Joshua will allow himself to play into a bit of fantasy while on vacation, as soon as they returned to Seoul, Joshua was quick to put a pin in it. (One need not mention that a pin would simply never do when trying to mend a dam.) The itch, Joshua told himself, was scratched. They had their gorgeous, epicurean romp around the quaint villages of the southern Mediterranean coast, and though the wine was to die for and the sex was even better, just like the tans they got under the Provençal sun, Joshua made sure to let it all fade. 

There were a few moments in the first few weeks after they got home when Mingyu would look at Joshua so intensely he felt stripped bare. But Joshua never met his gaze. He never acted on that desire again, even when it would bubble up, even if it meant playing a little dumb. There was no use in talking about it either. He knew Mingyu would understand, anyway. Joshua never had a doubt in his mind that they were signing up for the same thing when they decided to give into each other. Mingyu is smart. He knows how to read the room, and he can certainly get his sex from elsewhere. 

So with the exception of the handful of times when they drank alone together, those nights in bed never came up again. And even then, it was at most a tipsy, emboldened hand flirting with Joshua’s thigh or a lowered gaze cast in his direction. 

Now, at Mingyu’s request, they’ve returned to the south of France. It was high time for their usual summer vacation, and Mingyu got a good bonus this year, and what was Joshua going to do, say no to the cliffside villa he booked? It’s not unusual for them to come back to a vacation spot they like – they’ve been to Hawaii a handful of times now – and last year, they both complained that they barely got to explore Nice proper. This time, they’ve decided to see more of the city, and just like last time, they have plans to rent a catamaran one day and sail along the coast. The accommodation Mingyu booked is walking distance from a street of wine bars and restaurants, it has a terrace with chaises and a small pool, big windows that boast a view of the Mediterranean Sea, and soft, plush beds in three gorgeous bedrooms. 

All of which are occupied. Which is exactly Joshua’s problem. 

The walls of the villa are thin, bolstered by the fact that each room has a pair of sliding glass doors that spill out onto the terrace overlooking the cliff. If that were not enough to bring back memories of Joshua’s delicate resolve breaking and resulting in Kim Mingyu begging for him, each of those sliding doors is currently open, and from his own room where Joshua had been diligently applying sunscreen to his face (before careening onto his bed to look at flight prices) he can hear the high, tinkling giggles of Xu Minghao. 

To make Minghao laugh is already an exceptional thing, because it is not exactly a simple task. Minghao becomes disenchanted easily, he has little patience for stupidity, he doesn’t care for shallow or insensitive jokes, and he tends to outwit most people. Fortunately for Joshua’s sake, he’s mostly cracked the code on Minghao’s sense of humor, but his laugh is especially beautiful, and it’s probably affecting Joshua this much because he hasn’t quite let it sink in that Minghao is here with them. 

So to put it simply: it’s the sound of Mingyu and Minghao’s joint set of laughter drifting onto the terrace and through his open bedroom door that drove Joshua to such a point of distress that he briefly considered fleeing the country. But it’s not like Joshua can blame his weak resolve on them being here together, seeing how utterly pathetic he was even when he was with just Mingyu alone. Two is not better than one though, and not even 24 hours into their trip, Joshua can already sense the way the French Riverian air is drawing them toward each other in a way he’s never really seen before. 

It’s not that Joshua didn’t know that Mingyu and Minghao are close. He meant it when part of his reasoning for cutting off his momentary thing with Mingyu was in trust that Mingyu can get his sex from plenty of places. He always had a feeling that Xu Minghao was one of them. Joshua has just never quite… seen this side of their closeness. Or at least the concrete evidence of it, and so up close. Minghao and Mingyu’s chemistry is obvious to anyone, but it’s as if being on vacation has completely dissolved any pretense of trying to disguise their attraction to one another. 

Though perhaps any judgment toward this would make Joshua a big fat hypocrite.  

The three of them arrived at the villa late last night so exhausted that even the promise of future jet lag couldn’t keep them from collapsing after a long day of travel to France. They were barely on their feet as they discussed who would sleep in what room, but even then, Minghao was like a limpet, slung over Mingyu’s back. Every word he spoke came close and teasingly by Mingyu’s ear, every touch deliberate. Worse was the fact that whenever he did something to rile Mingyu up, he always seemed to make sure Joshua was watching. 

Last night, Joshua had the excuse of blaming such behavior on travel-induced, sleep deprived derangement. Or at least he could tell himself it probably wasn’t on purpose and certainly wasn’t meant for him. Unfortunately, that flimsy theory died a quick death at their breakfast this morning, bolstered by a significant problem: whether or not Minghao was hoping for it, Joshua was watching. 

They sat at the round, glass table in the kitchen with the balcony door open to the morning breeze. Minghao picked at fruit and sipped his tea. Beneath the table, his hand slid constantly up Mingyu’s thigh in his tight swim shorts, and he held Joshua’s gaze the whole time. Minghao was clearly having fun, because he even laughed to himself — probably at whatever pathetic look was on Joshua’s face, his mouth dropped open, his coffee cup stalled in front of his lips. 

Mingyu, a little clueless, only sat there and squirmed, deterred from the piece of baguette he’d just ripped off the loaf. 

 “Myungho-yah,” he whined. There was a blush on his face that Joshua knows will show even when he starts to build his tan again. 

It’s hardly been any time since then, but Joshua’s half an hour alone in his room after their meal has felt like a blissful respite. Except, of course, for the giggling. 

“Xu Minghao,” Mingyu cries between his giggles, surely ticklish, “your hands are cold!” 

Minghao is staunch even through the walls.

“I don’t care if you look good with a tan. You still need to protect yourself. Let me do it!” 

“Joshua-hyung, save me!” Mingyu wails. 

Joshua is nearly forced to pinch his nose picturing it— Mingyu, broad, muscular, with a stripe of white lotion up his back, and Minghao, lithe and cunning behind him, rubbing his hands along the sharp cut of Mingyu’s lats until his delicate fingers are curled over Mingyu’s shoulder blades, his laughter still tinkling when Mingyu erupts into goosebumps. 

“I’m making you do me next,” Minghao warns. “Unless Joshua-hyung wants to do it.” 

The way Minghao speaks makes Joshua think he knows Joshua is listening, and it’s so rattling that he almost considers going back to the bed, picking up his phone, and spending the 3 million won. 

But he cannot hide in his bedroom forever, especially when those two are clearly waiting for him and know he’s eavesdropping. Plus, Joshua really wants his lemon-water-and-book-in-the sun-time, so he haphazardly slathers sunscreen on his front, throws on a tank top, and pushes his sunglasses into his hair. He allows himself one deep breath before he steps outside onto the terrace. 

He makes it not three seconds before he’s spotted. 

Mingyu and Minghao are standing right by the open sliding door of Minghao’s room, exactly next to his own. Minghao’s hands are expectedly white. He finishes rubbing Mingyu’s back, his fingers curling into the strong muscles of Mingyu’s gorgeously sculpted shoulders. Of course, he makes sure to look at Joshua, who instantly regrets not having his sunglasses covering his face. 

“Hyung, did you put on sunscreen?” asks Mingyu. 

Joshua sends him a look that he hopes reads, Who do you take me for, someone who wants to get skin cancer and die?

“Of course I did,” he replies. 

Minghao, who is still touching Mingyu’s back despite there being no sunscreen left to rub in, lifts an appraising eyebrow in Joshua’s direction. 

“Did you do your back?” he asks. 

Joshua purses his lips. “We’re not all weirdly flexible like you, Myungho-yah.”

Minghao’s expression stays scarily neutral. He curls a hand over the nape of Mingyu’s neck. 

“You should let me do it,” says Minghao. 

This should be a kind request from his dongsaeng, but instead it fills Joshua with so much terror he swears he feels a shiver run up his spine. 

“I’m good,” he says, looking away. “I’m gonna lay on my front.” 

“What if you swim?” asks Minghao, but it sounds more like a challenge than it does a voice of concern. Xu Minghao is scary. 

“It’ll just be a dip,” Joshua insists. He looks down at himself and gestures unconvincingly to his tank top. “I’m also currently clothed.”

 “Are you gonna swim in your shirt? It’s just us,” Mingyu says. 

Minghao snorts at his tone. “You might as well just ask him to strip,” he snickers. His hands are still working along Mingyu’s back. The traces of sunscreen are long gone, but Mingyu is glistening now, and Minghao peers at Joshua from behind that big frame, looking him up and down. 

Joshua feels himself flush, but the Nice sun is hot. He tucks his book under his arm, attempts to steel himself, and says, “I’m going to get my lemon water.”

“Get me one too?” asks Minghao, his tone softened. His eyes are gentler now, and Joshua can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks. He’s small next to Mingyu, but his face is fuller these days, and his long hair frames it perfectly, in warm, sandy waves. 

Joshua swallows. He’s not sure he’d be able to say no to anything he asked. 

“Sure,” he says, so in the kitchen, he fills two glasses, one with no ice. 

He returns to a sight so shocking he’s once again tempted by the idea of fleeing. 

Minghao is no longer curled around Mingyu’s broad back. Instead he’s sprawled on one of the chaises, his face pillowed by his arms, looking content. Mingyu is above him, straddling his legs to rub sunscreen into his back. Mingyu’s hips are pressed against Minghao’s upper thighs, pale and exposed in his floral patterned swim shorts. When Mingyu leans forward to get at his shoulders, his hips roll against Minghao’s ass. It’s obscene, but it’s also a little ridiculous. Or at least that’s what Joshua tells himself. 

“You guys look like the start of bad porn,” he mutters, releasing his book from beneath his elbow onto his chair. He sets the glasses of water down on the small table beneath the umbrella, but he can’t quite get himself to look away, even as he sits. 

Mingyu gasps. “Shua-hyung has seen porn? How scandalous.”

Joshua lifts his sunglasses to narrow his eyes at him, but Minghao laughs. 

“I got tired,” Minghao says by way of explanation. As if being tired explains why Mingyu needs to do all that to put sunscreen on Minghao’s back. “Mingyu offered.”

“How kind,” Joshua mutters. 

“It’s easier like this,” Mingyu explains, but he’s giggling again. “I’m too tall.” 

It’s another flimsy excuse. Easier is certainly one way to put it. Minghao isn’t even that much shorter than him. Minghao must be enjoying himself — his eyes closed, his breathing steady. Mingyu’s hands look so big on the narrow cut of Minghao’s waist. The contrast of their skin tones is so stark and so beautiful that it’s almost too much to bear. Joshua lowers his sunglasses and finally manages to pick up his book, but he doesn’t miss the way one of Mingyu’s fingers traces right down the center of Minghao’s spine. 

When all the sunscreen has been rubbed in, Minghao lifts his head, turns over his shoulder, and lowers his eyes as he murmurs, “Thank you, Mingyu-yah. That was good.”

Mingyu leans down to press his nose between Minghao’s shoulders once before he stands, a gentle, intimate touch. He stretches once he’s on his feet, and he’s sweating a little now, by his temples and on his chest. His muscles ripple. He looks at Joshua, who has read approximately three words on the page of his book. 

“Hyung, are you sure you don’t want me to do your back, too? You could just turn over.”

He asks far more earnestly than Minghao had, but his sincerity doesn’t matter. Just the thought of emulating the position Mingyu and Minghao were just in is enough to bring a flood of memories back to Joshua. He thinks the last time he and Mingyu were in France, him on a bed lying exactly like that, Mingyu hovering over him, fucking into him, babbling, Hyung, is it good? Do you like it like this? Tell me how you like it, hyung. I’ll make it good for you. However you want it. 

Joshua clears his throat and takes a sip of lemon water. 

“I’m fine, thanks.” 

Mingyu shrugs as if to say, Suit yourself, and without another word, he wicks the sweat from his forehead and walks right into the pool. When he emerges from beneath the surface, he slicks his hair back and meets Joshua’s eye. Joshua hadn’t even noticed he’d been staring again. Mingyu’s smile is gorgeous. His canines poke out of his grin. 

“How’s the water?” asks Minghao, but he isn’t looking at Mingyu. 

With Minghao’s stare on Joshua, it’s exactly as they said. Joshua might as well be stripped bare. 

The entirety of the day passes like that, laid out, in debt to the sun for offering them so much warmth. They grow hot in its light and cool down with a plunge in the pool. They lounge, and they read, and they nap. They talk and listen to music and admire the view. Their only interruption is the light lunch they share at the same table where they had their breakfast. By the time the sun has begun its descent and tinged the sky pink and orange, they finally abandon their post on the terrace and get ready to venture out of the quiet privacy of their villa. 

Joshua takes a long, meditative shower to rid his skin of chlorine, ignoring the sting on his shoulders when the hot water meets the place the sun greeted him a little too strongly. He dresses simply, in loose, high waisted pants and a button up that’s just sheer enough to tease. He has to brace himself for the sight of a tanned Mingyu in white linen again, but nothing could prepare him for Minghao, whose skin has taken on a little more color during the day, whose hair is even wavier from the Nice salt air. He wears billowing pants and a white tee that would be ordinary if not for the way it exposes his bare waist the second he lifts his arms even a little. 

They walk to a restaurant where they can sit on the terrace to eat dinner and drink wine. Gorgeous and ever charming, Mingyu turns heads and whips out the few phrases of French he remembers, but once they’re seated at the table, it’s Joshua who does most of the talking. The waiter who takes their order is handsome and tan. His English comes with a heavy French accent, but he’s eager to lean over the table and help Joshua with the wine list. Joshua blinks up at him, seeing no reason to turn down his help. He nods along to every suggestion and piece of advice, finding his gaze stuck to the waiter’s pretty green eyes and the freckles across his nose. 

As they talk, Joshua feels Minghao watching them intensely. It’s a heavy, assessing stare, and for some reason, it only makes Joshua want to play into this a little more. All day, he’s felt himself stumbling at Minghao’s every move. Even though he’s not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, this feels like his only chance to have the upper hand, so he returns the waiter's pretty smile and asks stupid questions about the grape varietals, even knowing Minghao won’t understand the English. Mingyu can follow along a little more closely, but Joshua sees his knee against Minghao’s under the table and feels his stomach tighten. 

Even with the sea breeze coming off the ocean, Joshua feels hot. 

When Joshua eventually chooses, the wine helps them all loosen up. They laugh and talk like they should on vacation. They dip soft bread in the best olive oil Provence has to offer. They share some plates between them, and in the few moments on this trip that Joshua has felt like a hyung, he’s happy watching the two of them eat. But the tension that’s followed them all day doesn’t quite shake. Mingyu and Minghao’s knees stay pressed together beneath the table. Mingyu’s hand comes to the back of Minghao’s head to scratch softly at his scalp, playing with his hair. Neither of them touch Joshua. Just their hands meeting over the bread basket is enough to make him jump. Even though Joshua is less tempted with the idea of fleeing the country than he was this morning, he feels his belly in his throat. He feels his pulse in his neck. He feels a heat stirring in him that he’s desperately trying to repress, and he’s sure the effort shows. 

His confirmation comes a little later, on the terrace of their villa. 

Joshua leaves a tip for their waiter even though it’s far from customary in France. Minghao, sharp, raises his eyebrows at him. Mingyu, softer, teases him for still being American at heart. They walk home the three of them, Minghao with a hand around Mingyu’s waist and a shameless hand in the back pocket of those linen pants. Joshua trails next to them, his head a little cloudy from the two bottles of wine they shared, trying not to think about all the other ways Minghao must touch him. 

Mingyu disappears when they get back, needing to take a call with family. He closes the sliding door to his room and leaves Joshua and Minghao on the terrace. Wordlessly, they drift over to the railing with a view of the sea. It’s all dark now, with the exception of the lights of boats blinking along the horizon and the moon overhead. 

Burdened by the silence, Joshua swallows his heavy tongue and says, “Dinner was good.”

Minghao hums. He’s so level. That, Joshua knows, is when he is at his most cutting. 

“Mm. Nice wines. The waiter must have known his stuff.”

“He did,” Joshua replies. He grows defensive before he can help it. Maybe there’s a little bit of guilt curling in him, because Mingyu and Minghao both know their stuff decently well too, and they like to study a wine list when they get a chance, no matter if some of it goes over their head. 

Minghao smirks. He seems somehow amused by Joshua’s reaction. Does he think Joshua flirting with the waiter was that funny? Does he think Joshua looked stupid? He leans a little further over the railing and into Joshua’s side, pressing their arms together. To Joshua’s surprise, he doesn’t mention anything about dinner. 

“You’re a little uptight, Shua-hyung. Are you always like this on vacation? I don’t think Mingyu would choose you as his travel buddy if you were.”

“Are you saying you’d be better?” Joshua mutters, defensive yet again — snappy, even. His palms are getting sweaty on the railing. His throat is dry. He can feel his heart in his chest. He knows Minghao sees right through him. 

“No, I’m saying you need to relax. You’re jumpy. It’s beautiful here. We have nothing to do except enjoy ourselves. Even the wine didn’t really calm you down. Do we need to have another glass?”

Joshua shakes his head. As jumpy as he is, he feels the wine plenty. Another glass would surely lower his walls too much. With his inhibitions that far down, he doesn’t know what he might do, and not knowing is enough to deter him. 

“No, no,” he stammers. “We don’t have anything open.” 

“Don’t act like that can’t be remedied,” says Minghao smoothly. 

“We can have more tomorrow.”

“I’m holding you to that. We’re going on the sailboat tomorrow.” Minghao says these words more gently, but it does nothing to ease Joshua’s racing heart. There’s the briefest pause, and then Minghao leans into him a little more, gazing at him from over the railing. “Shua-hyung.” 

Joshua doesn’t look at him. “Hm.”

Minghao puts a hand on his nape to bring their eyes together. It makes Joshua gasp, shocked by the cold of Minghao’s rings on his sunburned skin. 

“You’ll have to let Mingyu get your back for you tomorrow.” 

“I managed just fine today.”

Joshua didn’t think either of them noticed his burn. It’s mild, just barely pink, the kind that’ll fade to a tan by tomorrow. In the dark, it should be especially hard to see, with only one of the terrace lights on, casting them both in shadows. 

 Minghao holds his gaze. He won’t let Joshua look away. Joshua is trapped, his heartbeat rapid, his limbs frozen, and the worst part is that he doesn’t even really want to run. 

“Joshua. It’s not really about the sunscreen.”

Joshua looks away again. He fixates on one of the boats on the inky blue horizon. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Minghao snorts once, a measly, unimpressed puff of air leaving his nose. Is Joshua really that transparent? Can he at least blame it on Mingyu? Mingyu routinely fails at subtlety, though not because he lacks the skill to hide things, but more because he doesn’t care to hold back. 

“Hyung, you’re good at playing dumb. I know it works with most people. But I’m not most people. You think I don’t know?”

Joshua's pupils shake. He feels Minghao’s eyes against his cheek, and even like this, even when he’s hiding from them, he imagines the way they might slide down to stare at his mouth, wonders what Minghao might think about when he looks at him. He licks his lips, and he knows he gives himself away. 

Minghao sidles even closer. His tone lowers, deeper, closer to a whisper. Joshua wants to duck, and he wants that mouth against his ear. He wishes he couldn’t hear a thing, and he wants to know everything Minghao has to say. 

“I knew the second you two got back from France last year. It was written all over your faces.”

Joshua’s heart drops to his stomach, but it’s clear denial won’t do him any good here. Minghao knows, and trying to say anything otherwise will only serve as another leg up for him to prod at Joshua’s weak spots. 

Joshua gives in. With another hard swallow, he musters, “Did he tell you about it?”

The corner of Minghao’s mouth lifts. He knows he’s won. 

“A little, when I asked.” 

It really shouldn’t be so surprising that he asked. Mingyu and Minghao are close. Joshua knows they’re close, and he knows they fuck. Sure, maybe it was never that serious. Joshua knows they’re not dating and he doesn’t think they’re exclusive, but they’re definitely more than friends, and more importantly than that, they both seem to like to talk about it. Joshua wouldn’t be surprised if half the reason they have sex with other people in the first place is so they can tell each other and then fuck about it. 

But part of him hoped he was exempt from that aspect of their dynamic, because he’s their friend, he’s their hyung, and maybe he wished his moments of weakness were enough to be spared, his privacy kept. Turns out, he hasn’t been so lucky. And it’s not really like he can blame Mingyu. The last thing Joshua could do is expect him to have lied in that situation. Minghao asked. In Mingyu’s shoes, Joshua surely would’ve done the same. Looking at him, it feels impossible not to confess. 

“What did you ask?”

 Minghao keeps coy. “Nothing crazy. If it was good. If he had wanted you for a long time.”

Joshua shifts. “Ah,” he says, because he knows the answers to those questions. 

He thinks of it again, then. Mingyu, breaking down and desperate, wanting it so bad he was saying please and willing to repeat it until Joshua gave him everything he wanted. 

“He said it was good. He told me he begged for you.”

Joshua has to force his face into keeping a neutral expression. His heartbeat is so rapid now he wouldn’t be surprised if Minghao can hear it. He’s sweating through his thin, sheer shirt. In his head, he can hear Mingyu’s voice from that first time saying, Kiss me. Touch me. Please. Whatever. 

When Joshua doesn’t reply, Minghao leans a little closer again. Joshua feels the hand that was lingering on the hot skin of his nape slide over his shoulder, so Minghao’s arm is draped entirely across his back. His nose hovers close to Joshua’s cheek. If Joshua turned his head, they’d be inches from kissing. 

He looks forward. 

“It’s nice when he begs,” says Minghao breezily, like he’s talking about the weather. “He’s really sweet about it. Did you fuck him?”

Carefully, Joshua musters shaking his head, but for some reason he wants to say it, even if the result is an awkward, breathy stammer. 

“No. I— he fucked me.”

Minghao’s lips purse in thought. Joshua can’t tell if he’s on the failing end of his judgment or the passing. 

“Ah. He can be alright at that when you tell him what to do.”

“It was good.” Joshua isn’t sure why he feels the need to clarify. Minghao must know this already. He must know Joshua thinks so. He probably even knows how often Joshua thinks about it, with a hand between his legs and his eyes squeezed tightly shut as if that could help force the memory back more clearly. 

 Minghao is still looking at him. His eyes trace over the course of Joshua’s cheek, the ridge of his nose, the purse of his lips. They’re standing, but Joshua feels laid out beneath him. 

“So is that what you like, Shua-hyung? I understand. It feels good. But you should really try fucking him. Would you like that? It’s okay if it’s not.”

Joshua’s neck heats up, his words all caught in his throat. He doesn’t even give himself a chance to think about what he’d like. He can’t. It’s too much of an indulgence. Even the memory feels like an act of glutton, let alone a fantasy. He tries to find a way out of this even though he knows he’s too far gone. He’s already slipped beneath the surface. Even if he came up now, he’d never dry in time. 

“We’re not- we don’t— It’s not happening again.”

Minghao’s brow knits together. “Why not? This is no different from last time. I bet if I weren’t here, you would’ve given in already. If it’s me you’re worried about, just pretend I’m not here.”

Making sure to put some space between them, Joshua finally turns his head to shoot a tight glance his way. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

Minghao snorts, pleased with himself. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. In any case, hyung, loosen up, hm?” 

He stands, and Joshua nearly sighs in relief when they’re no longer touching, but the reprieve doesn’t last very long, because in seconds, Minghao is behind him where he’s leaned over the railing. Pressing their hips together, he drops both hands to rub at Joshua’s shoulders, which are high and tight with tension. Joshua doesn’t relax a bit, but still, with Minghao pressed against him, he’s tempted with the thought of shifting backwards, bringing their hips more firmly together. He wants Minghao to grip his hips. He wants to feel their bodies against one another. He wants to know if Minghao is half hard in his pants the way he is. 

But Joshua doesn’t let himself find out. He stays painfully in place, still as stone, knowing it’s only a matter of time before Minghao erodes him away completely. 

Minghao leans over to hover his mouth by his ear. 

“Good night, hyung. Sleep well. See you in the morning.”

He presses a light kiss to Joshua’s cheek, and when he pulls away, it’s with both hands dragging down Joshua’s shoulders, to his waist, and then his hips, where he squeezes, his fingertips slipping beneath Joshua’s shirt. 

Joshua hears him walk away but he counts to thirty even after the sound of the sliding door rings out, just to be sure he’s disappeared completely. Only then does he collapse his head into his arms, a shoddy pillow on the railing. 

Maybe he should’ve bought the plane ticket. 

The sailboat rental is a little over the top, a clear step up from the smaller one they rented last year, but when Kim Mingyu vacations, you get one of two things: either as local and unassuming as possible, or absolutely extravagant. So this was probably to be expected, especially because he planned this trip with Joshua in mind, and Joshua would be a liar if he said he didn’t like things a little extravagant from time to time. 

They’re afforded the chance to sleep in before their charter starts, although Minghao rises with the sun anyway. Joshua stirs when he hears him go outside, sure it’s Minghao because Mingyu’s snores can practically be heard through the walls. They relish in their slow morning, and then a car picks them up to take them to the marina. They’re on board by eleven. 

They have the huge, forty foot sailboat to themselves. The charter will last all day, six hours cruising and floating around the coast, toured by a captain and a skipper to various tourist spots along the Riviera, including places where they can stop and play in the water. They sit through a quick introduction and safety briefing when they first arrive, most of which Joshua has to translate for his friends, but it’s nothing complicated, and the staff are nice. The captain is older and graying by his temples, but his skin is tanned and his aviator glasses suit his strong jaw. He’s casual, with a cap on his head but no shirt, thick silver hair trailing down his chest, his body fit for his age. The skipper is much younger, probably even younger than Mingyu and Minghao. His skin is dark and smooth, but his smile is full of bright and white teeth. He’s charming from the moment he greets them, murmuring, “Enchanté,” in a way that Joshua knows is more than just polite. His gaze sparkles. Joshua doesn’t miss the way his eyes catch on Mingyu after they shake hands. He’s certainly seen that before. 

The boat boasts big, plush sheets on the stern, and at the bow is a trampoline for them to lounge, its netting revealing a view of the crystal clear water that splashes up when they’re underway. Down below, there are cabins with AC when they need to rest, and behind the captain’s post is a wide table, where a light lunch awaits them. They have an open bar at their disposal, and the stereo system is free for them to take over. Minghao gets on the aux as soon as it’s offered to them, giddy. 

Joshua notices his good mood as soon as they’re on board. He’s as happy as Joshua has seen him, watching the staff’s every move with bright curiosity. He even tries to ask questions in English, and Joshua doesn’t get a chance to jump in before Minghao is pulling up the Papago app on his phone when his vocabulary fails him. As the boat pulls away from the dock, Minghao is alight with joy, staring out at the sparkling water and watching in fascination when the lines are drawn in. 

Mingyu is similarly curious, but he’s more at ease, asking questions to the captain about the make of the sailboat as they move out to sea. He looks like he was made to be on a boat, his linen shirt unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze, his sunglasses perfectly suited to his face. He’s as handsome as ever, but Joshua keeps finding himself looking back at Minghao and his uncontrollable smiles. His laughter is ringing out, high and tinkling and washing over Joshua with just as much effect as it had yesterday morning. He looks freer than usual, unburdened, delighted as he plucks grapes off the bunch in the spread laid out for them. He tosses one into Mingyu’s open mouth and laughs even harder when he misses. 

From his vantage point on the corner of the wraparound couch, Joshua is stunned by him. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Minghao so unadulterated and relaxed. He’s gorgeous, his white tank top hugging him like a second skin, dotted with splotches of water where the wake has come aboard in the waves. His skin is already tanner than when they arrived. His hair is growing wild with salt. Joshua can’t look away — but unlike yesterday, Joshua knows this is no show. This isn’t some temptation, some invitation for his stare. It’s just that Joshua is looking anyway, magnetized. 

Joshua lets himself be quiet and relaxed for the early part of the tour. He sheds his shirt and finds a shaded spot on the couch to eat fruit and feel the rocking of the waves. He hunts down some sparkling water, knowing it’s only a matter of time before Mingyu makes them pop a bottle of champagne. He takes his time, watching the sea birds, staring at the shoreline, noting how well his friends go with the color blue. 

Even though the Mediterranean couldn’t be farther than the Pacific, water will always remind him of home, and he allows it to be a comforting thought instead of the nerve wracking one it often is. Minghao’s music suits the mood perfectly, and Joshua allows his head to empty for a little while. It’s too hard to think over the sound of the wind in the sails anyway. 

Only when they slow down coming into a cove is Joshua’s hazy morning interrupted by the sound of someone sitting next to him. He’d closed his eyes for a little, and when he opens them, he spots Mingyu on top of the flybridge, sprawled out to take in the sun. This means the only person who could be beside him is Minghao. He has traded his seat dangling his legs off the starboard side to come sit next to Joshua and duke it out for the last of the grapes. He’s still shining as he was when they first got aboard. He’s a little wet from where the wake jumped high enough to reach his thighs. Joshua feels his chest grow a little tighter just from being next to each other, but Minghao is not so threatening right now. Maybe teasing Joshua is a little lower on his list of priorities in the face of such a splendid day in the sun. 

“You should probably drink some water while you still can,” Joshua jokes. “As soon as Mingyu wakes up from his nap, we’re only going to be allowed to drink champagne for the rest of the day.” 

Minghao laughs. He reaches for Joshua’s glass of sparkling water, and Joshua does nothing to stop him. 

“Is that how they do it in Europe? No water, only wine?”

Joshua shrugs. “I don’t know how they do it in Europe, but it’s definitely what you do when you’re on vacation with Kim Mingyu.”

Minghao laughs again, a little dreamy. “There are worse things,” he says, sighing happily. “I’m still learning the culture. I’ve only been to Europe once before, when we all went to Italy. Remember that wine festival? Junnie got so drunk.”

Joshua definitely remembers. Junhui lost count of how many wines he tried. He got so tipsy and red cheeked by the end of it, blabbing on about how much he loved them all in a way he would never normally do. He was clingier than usual too, holding onto Wonwoo and Minghao and Joshua. Maybe especially Joshua, who’d been the one to put him to bed that night. Joshua swallows at the memory of Junhui asking for a hug before he slept — it came with a sloppy kiss on the cheek landing against the corner of his mouth, and then a real one, messy, drunken, hot, and never spoken about. 

There’s no way Minghao knows this, but sometimes it feels like all it takes is a look for him to know everything. 

“It was a nice wine festival,” is all Joshua manages. 

Thankfully, Minghao’s head is elsewhere. He leans his cheek against Joshua’s shoulder with a soft exhale, gazing out at the horizon. 

“I liked Tuscany, but…”

Joshua gives him a knowing smile. He even touches him, an innocent thing, how he normally would, a gentle stroke on the back of his head. 

“You seem pretty taken with France.”

Minghao lifts his head again, but his eyes stay transfixed on the azure sea. 

“I am. It’s really nice here. But I probably fall in love easier than you think.”

“Do you?” 

Joshua knows Minghao is a lover. But he has always come across as someone who loves levelheadedly. Decisively. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would fall in love all the time, unthinkingly, the way Mingyu does. But maybe there’s a lot more about Xu Minghao that Joshua doesn’t know. That too, would be unsurprising. 

Minghao shrugs. “I probably fall in love with something every day. But it’s not like it’s hard here. I woke up and the first thing I saw was the sparkling sea. Not much could make me happier.”

Joshua pauses. 

“Not much?”

The glint in Minghao’s eye returns. Perhaps his moment of euphoria from being on the boat was merely a break from teasing Joshua, not a surrender of it. 

“There’s a thing or two that could make it better.”

Joshua swallows, averts his gaze. “Champagne, right?” he jokes weakly. 

And fortunately, Minghao doesn’t get a chance to make fun of his deflection, because Mingyu appears with the most perfect comedic timing to say, “Champagne? You read my mind!”

Joshua hates to put the blame on such a good thing, but after the champagne, everything goes downhill. Mingyu and Minghao might beg to differ, but for Joshua, he briefly considers jumping overboard. Well, he does jump overboard, multiple times actually, from the transom swim platform, and, after a second drink, from high up on the flybridge, but beyond playtime in the water, he also considers jumping off and never returning to the boat. 

He’s not quite sure what does it. Maybe it is the champagne. But it could also just be the Nice air, or the heat of the sun, or the fact that their sexy skipper is probably interested in men and clearly doesn’t care what they get up to. No matter what it is, after lunch, Mingyu and Minghao are inseparable. Or, even more inseparable compared to whatever thinly veiled restraint they had put on earlier. It starts with a photo shoot on the bow, which Joshua admittedly partakes in, but he swears Mingyu spends a lot more time adjusting Minghao’s poses than he does taking photos. He would say the shoot is just an excuse to stare at each other, but he knows how they both are about Instagram, so he lets slide. And it’s not like he doesn’t want pictures too. 

Once their phones are cast aside, it’s like the barrier has broken, and their hands never leave each other. Minghao’s palm stays glued to the tattoo on Mingyu’s waist, where it pokes out of his shorts. The touch alone is enough to draw Joshua’s eye down to the vee of his hips, trailing down to the trunks that cover close to nothing. In the water, Minghao clings to Mingyu to stay afloat, running his hands shamelessly over Mingyu’s chest. When they dry off, they go to lie on the trampoline, and Joshua deliberately moves slower, lingering by the stern as he towels off, just watching them. He barely has a vantage point, but he sees them lie down, legs pressed together. Minghao giggles about something, and then he leans over to kiss Mingyu’s neck once. Mingyu, encouraged, stops trying to control himself, and he kisses Minghao straight on the mouth. Apparently that’s the final straw, because it leads them all over one another, making out in the sun with their hands exploring each other's backs. 

Joshua stares. He blames the champagne. He should just go back to his corner and take a nap. Instead he thinks about Minghao’s tongue in Mingyu’s mouth and how it must feel to be kissed in the sun like that. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but Joshua’s hair dries in the meantime. He gets another glass of champagne. 

“Hyung!” he hears. He jumps, a hand over his heart. It’s Mingyu. Joshua realizes he must’ve been out of sight when they were lying down, but now Mingyu has sat up, calling for him. “Come here! It’s so nice on the trampoline. You can feel the water when you lie down.”

Joshua has no reason to say no, but he downs his drink before he goes and thinks he might feel the skipper’s eye on him as he makes his way to the bow. 

“Were you napping?” asks Mingyu when he appears. They must’ve lost track of time even more than Joshua had. 

“Dozing,” Joshua lies. 

“If you’re gonna sleep, do it here. It’s so nice. The water is so cool.”

“Okay,” says Joshua, but he feels suddenly nervous, like he no longer knows how to handle himself. He lies down, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes, and pretends to try and sleep. 

There are a few moments of quiet. Just the wind and the waves and the sound of shifting bodies. 

Then Joshua hears a whisper, the barely audible voice of Xu Minghao, still tangled with Mingyu, barely two feet away from him. 

“Kim Mingyu, you’re naughty.”

Mingyu whines quietly. Joshua can hear his pout. “I’m not.”

“Did you just want him next to us?” Minghao pushes. 

“I wanted him to hang out up here. I thought he’d like it. It’s nice,” Mingyu tries, voice a little louder with insistence. “It wasn’t because—”

“No?” says Minghao, full volume now, and laughing. Joshua squeezes his eyes more tightly shut, trying not to picture them even though he knows Minghao must have a hand on him, running up his chest, so close to kissing him again. “You didn’t want him to watch me touch you, or kiss you?”

“I just want to be the three of us,” Mingyu says, but however he means it, Minghao only understands it one way. 

“I bet you do.” Minghao laughs and kisses him. Joshua can hear it. They must know he couldn’t possibly be sleeping. He wonders if opened his eyes now, hidden behind his sunglasses, would they notice? Would they hear it if he turned onto his side to get a better look? Are they distracted enough by each other to even pay attention to him?

Clearly they’re shameless. Joshua wonders what brought it on. Is it because they’re at sea with staff they’re never gonna see again? They’ve never done anything like this in front of him before, and the truth is, he knows why they’re doing it now, he knows. He knows what it is, but if this is his invitation, he can’t take it, not here, not now, he can’t, he shouldn’t. 

But still he sits up. He leans his back against the cabin window behind him, unwilling to keep feigning sleep. At his movement, they don’t break apart, but he sees the way Minghao reacts to him being “awake.” His kisses grow slower, and his hands too, moving to where he must know Joshua can see them. When he breaks the kiss, it’s with a long drag of his plush lower lip against Mingyu’s, and the sudden declaration of, “I should bring the champagne up here.” 

He doesn’t even spare Joshua a glance before he heads toward the stern. And then for the first time this entire trip, Joshua is alone with Mingyu. 

Mingyu rubs his red mouth. 

“Hyung. Sorry.” 

Joshua bites his lip, keeping his breath and tone steady. He doesn’t know what his voice might sound like, but he knows Mingyu has no reason to be apologizing. Not really, anyway. 

“What’s there to be sorry for? You’re having fun.”

“I know, but…” Mingyu sits up, scrambling for his sunglasses wherever he tossed them aside. Joshua’s gaze is immediately drawn to him. He’s so tan already, sweating lightly, so golden and gorgeous in the afternoon sunlight. Joshua wants him more than ever. “You’re having fun, too, right?”

Joshua gestures vaguely around himself. “I’m on a sailboat in the Mediterranean,” he says plainly. 

“Still. Don't avoid the question,” Mingyu whines. “I mean it.” 

Joshua throws his hands up, though not angrily. “What do you want me to say? Don't make out with Xu Minghao? That would be a ridiculous request. I'm not bothered, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Mingyu exhales. He shifts a little, leaning closer, toying with the drawstring of his swim shorts. “Okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself. He pauses, licking his lips. “You know, if you want, you can—” 

Mingyu doesn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by Minghao’s return. A silk scarf is covering Minghao’s head now, and both of his hands are full. In one, the bottle of champagne, in the other, a bottle of sunscreen, which he tosses onto the trampoline. It bounces once, landing right in front of Joshua. 

“Having glasses up here would be annoying,” he says, taking a slug of the wine. “Joshua, your back is even worse than yesterday.”

“It’s fine,” Joshua snaps. He leans further back against the cabin window, but there’s no hiding it. He must be pink by now. 

“You’re gonna be in pain,” Minghao says, “and then you’ll peel, and I know you’ll hate that.”

“I won’t peel.”

“Hyung,” tries Mingyu. “I’ll do it for you. You shouldn’t get burnt.”

Minghao holds out the bottle of champagne to Joshua, smirking. “If you need to loosen up first.”

“Oh, shut up,” Joshua snaps, but he takes it from him anyway, drinking until champagne escapes from the corner of his mouth and runs down his neck. He scoots forward onto the trampoline to make space for Mingyu to sit behind him, who comes right away. He sits more delicately than he normally would, bracketing Joshua with his thighs. He gently puts his hands on Joshua’s shoulders, his touch light. 

“You are a little red,” says Mingyu. “Does this hurt?”

It stings a bit, but Joshua is definitely not about to admit that. “No, it’s fine.”

Minghao takes the wine bottle out of Joshua’s hands again and passes over the sunscreen to Mingyu. Then he sits and stares unabashedly, like this is a performance just for him. He perches his chin on his hand, his scarf rustling prettily around his face. 

Mingyu squirts sunscreen into his palm, and with a careful hand, begins to rub it onto Joshua’s back. He’s gentle and slow, but Joshua knows his touch is not just a favor. He rubs the cream in until it’s completely absorbed, and even then, he does more just to make Joshua feel good. His thumbs come up to brush along Joshua’s hairline, caressing softly behind his ears. His fingers massage Joshua’s shoulders, tracing the muscles there. Joshua does everything he can not to shiver even in this blazing heat. 

“Your traps are looking really good,” says Mingyu. “We should find a day to workout while we’re here.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Joshua musters his words with gritted teeth, ridden by memories of how this all started, how he even got here. He wonders if Minghao knows about that day in the gym, how it knocked the first domino, how it landed them in bed. “It’s not like we’re at a hotel with a gym this time.”

 “Bodyweight is good too,” Mingyu replies, surely grinning. 

“Pass. I’d rather just relax this time.”

Minghao snorts. Joshua shoots him a dirty look from behind his glasses, but he’s low on mirth, not with Mingyu touching him, whose hands are everywhere Joshua might not be able to reach on his own, and then some. He touches Joshua’s obliques, his spine, his triceps. His fingertips even brush the base of Joshua’s spine, reaching into the waistband of his trunks. 

When Mingyu is finally finished, he puts his chin on Joshua’s shoulder, wraps his arms around Joshua's waist, and blinks cutely as he leans around to make eye contact. 

“All done.”

“Thank you, Mingyu-yah.” 

Joshua lets out the breath he’d been holding, but Mingyu doesn’t let go just yet. 

“You’re welcome, hyung,” he says, but he detaches slowly, as if he’s testing the waters of whether he really has to move away. He drops his nose to Joshua’s shoulder, and when Joshua isn’t quick to shove him off, he replaces it with his mouth. Joshua freezes, and then that mouth purses into a kiss. It lingers. Then comes another kiss, and another, along his shoulder, toward his neck, up, up, until Mingyu’s lips are beneath his ear, and his hands are on Joshua’s belly, his curious fingertips back beneath Joshua’s waistband. 

Joshua tilts his head unthinkingly, or no, not unthinkingly — he tilts his head with the thought that it feels too good not to let Mingyu closer. The air’s too warm, the water too blue, the champagne too honeyed. And Mingyu, who smells like sunscreen and salt, who has found that place on Joshua’s jaw, who’s tilting Joshua’s head — he’s too sweet. Joshua wants him too badly. Joshua knows he should be embarrassed. He should be squirming away. Their friend is watching them. They’re on a boat with these staff who can probably see everything. Who, by now, have seen Mingyu touch them both. 

But there’s this whisper. There’s Mingyu, so desperate and so eager, begging, “Hyung, please.”

With it Joshua remembers what Minghao said, how if he weren’t here Joshua would’ve broken already, and God how true it is. Only Joshua doesn’t break, he shatters. 

He fits his hand against Mingyu’s inner thigh, curling his fingers so hard it must hurt, and he bumps their noses together until he finds the kiss. It’s filthy and hot and full of heavy breath. Minghao watches their every move, his hand clenched around the neck of that sweating champagne bottle. Mingyu’s tongue is at Joshua’s mouth, and the sun beats down on them, and Joshua is not sure the last time a kiss made him feel like this. 

Mingyu has always been his greatest indulgence. This, Joshua thinks, might be edging on greed.  

They kiss until he’s panting. Until he’s memorized the way Mingyu moves and tastes again. When he pulls back, he has nothing to say. He simply waits for his breathing to regulate, reangling his head to look forward again. Mingyu takes his time, staying behind him with his hands still wrapped around Joshua’s waist. He squirms, half hard against Joshua’s back. 

Minghao leans over with his arm outstretched, offering Joshua the bottle of champagne once more. 

“You two look good together,” he mutters, grinning. He looks like he’s won. In a way, he has. Joshua is firmly, unwaveringly in his trap, and he’s going to lie there and take whatever comes his way. Even if that means getting eaten whole. Even if it means the flood. 

He takes the bottle. At this point, Joshua should probably just chug it. 

Mingyu noses against his shoulder to ask for a sip. “Me next,” he says, but he waits his turn. Joshua turns over his shoulder to pass it to him, and to watch him drink. There’s so much to be seen in just the pulse of his neck. 

Joshua’s not quite sure what’s waiting for them when they’re back on shore. 

The bow of the sailboat is host to a few more kisses, but after Joshua finally gives in, instead of adding to his boldness, the anticipation of what might come next only hardens his restraint. He mostly keeps his hands to himself, taking in the last of the sun until they’re back on shore. As they disembark, Joshua gives the staff a nice tip and firm handshakes. While the skipper takes the cash from Joshua’s outstretched palm, he offers a fierce grin, and with a knowing glance to Joshua’s friends, he says, “Lucky you.” 

Joshua pretends he doesn’t hear it, even though there’s no way he could’ve missed it — however true he knows it to be. 

They come back to the villa bearing salty, tender skin, Mingyu with a few new freckles on his nose, Minghao with waves in his hair, and Joshua desperate to wash up. He’s starting to go crazy from the heat and the sticky seawater, so he beelines to his shower as soon as they’re home. He definitely has a mild sunburn on his back, but he’s golden everywhere else, and he knows he’ll be happy to look in the mirror after he bathes. He takes his time in the shower, meditating until the hot water doesn’t hurt anymore. He emerges once he’s scrubbed raw and his head is empty. Afterwards, he takes his time in the bathroom, donning the robe in his room’s closet and sitting at the vanity to do his skincare. He examines his tan, warily eyeing his sunburn in the mirror, pleased to know it’s not that bad. He dries his hair. He makes sure he smells good. He even plucks his eyebrows. It’s pleasant, but he can’t shake the feeling of something nagging him. When he’s done and dressed in his soft, silk pajamas, he finally realizes what’s wrong. 

For as much as he likes uninterrupted time in the bathroom, it has started to stretch a little too long. They’ve probably been home for an hour, and he hasn’t heard any giggling through the walls, any noise from the terrace, any knock at his door. He’s simply been waiting. Part of him thought he might get ripped away from his skincare halfway through moisturizing, but he did everything he wanted to and then some. Now he’s sitting on his bed like Mingyu and Minghao might waltz through the door and seduce him at any minute, but there’s no sign of them. Instead, he’s just waiting, endlessly waiting, and he doesn’t even know exactly what for. 

Are they going to meet outside? Are they going to go out tonight? They didn’t have dinner, but Joshua couldn’t eat right now if he tried. He sort of thought they might explode with anticipation as soon as they got a chance, but things have been strangely calm. They all split off to their showers as soon as they got back to the villa with an unspoken agreement, but now he’s wondering if the ball is in his court. Is this their way of asking him to come looking?

He stalls for a little while longer. He checks his phone and its backlog of messages from ignoring it all day. He drinks water, another thing he neglected today. He lies on the bed, too, and even though he had so much sun today he should probably pass right out, he ends up staring at the ceiling fan until he goes dizzy. Part of him is still expecting a knock on his door, but when he feels his head about to burst thinking of what might happen next, he finally goes outside. 

On the terrace, the sky is still bright with lingering daylight, a hallmark of French summer sunsets. The sky won’t go fully dark until after nine, but he can’t even bring himself to admire the view, because Minghao and Mingyu aren’t there. He half expected them to be sprawled out on chaises with their arms crossed over their chests, glaring at him like he’s running late to an important meeting. But the chaises are empty, and he only finds them because of the light coming from Minghao’s room. The door is partway open to let the evening air in, and they’re both lying on the bed, looking at the cracked screen of Mingyu’s phone. 

Joshua is forced to pause in the doorway when he sees them. It’s a natural sight. It’s everything a vacation should be — lying down with your friend after a long day in the sun to stare at a screen together. It’s perfect and comforting, and yet somehow anticlimactic, and nothing like what Joshua was expecting. 

They’re both showered, Minghao with half dried hair in loose, flowy pajamas, and Mingyu, ridiculously tan, wearing just a pair of workout shorts. They look up to greet him, and Mingyu’s smile is soft and warm. 

“Hyung, are you feeling better?”

“Much,” replies Joshua. “I felt so gross before. I’m totally refreshed.” 

“Ugh, me too. These showers are so nice,” says Mingyu. He rolls onto his back with a big stretch, then props himself up on his forearms. Joshua has to make a conscious effort not to stare at his chest. “Come here, we’re looking through the pictures from the boat.” 

“Oh god, anything good?”

Minghao gives him a wry, teasing smile. “Like you ever look bad.”

They make space for him, scooting over so Mingyu will be in the middle. Joshua eyes his spot tentatively, and he creeps forward like an animal trying not to make noise in the brush. Useless, when they’ve both already spotted him. His curiosity is undeniable though, so he lies down and tries to play it cool even though his heart has crept into his throat. Taking his place next to Mingyu, who flips back over, Joshua uses one big bicep as a pillow and tries to make himself calm down as they flip through the photos. 

Ultimately, he can’t help but relax. It’s nice, amidst all of this tension, to have a precious moment with friends. Maybe that’s what makes it all feel so heavy. They laugh at the funny pictures and make Mingyu favorite the best ones, zooming in on the weird angles and the bad shots. They keep going until they get through the entire camera roll, and like a flip of a switch, the anticipation dawns on them again, heavy and obvious. 

“You have to send me those,” Joshua says, trying not to let them in on his sudden change in mood. He sits up and leans against the headboard, fingers playing with one of his bracelets. 

“I will, I will,” says Mingyu, but he’s already tossing his phone aside. “Hyung, how’s your back?”

“It’s fine,” says Joshua. The silk of his pajamas is cool against his skin, and he won’t admit that he had to lean back slowly to avoid a sting. 

“I have aloe,” says Minghao. 

“Of course you do,” tuts Joshua. “But I’m fine.” He pauses, and under his breath, he adds, “You just want an excuse to touch me.”

Minghao lifts a brow. He’s sitting up now too, toward the end of the bed with his legs folded beneath him. He’s perfectly composed, serious, almost. 

“Do I need one?” 

Mingyu looks between them like he’s hesitating. “You haven’t yet, have you?” he says. “Hyung is really soft.”

“Mingyu-yah,” Joshua warns. Against what, he’s not sure. 

“You are,” Mingyu insists, and his cautious hand doesn’t waver, fitting itself above Joshua’s knee and running up the expanse of his thigh, right to the hem of his shorts. 

Minghao watches this, transfixed. “It depends if Joshua-hyung wants me to touch him. Do you, Shua?” 

Joshua is not sure if he at any point ever managed to escape Minghao’s trap, but his question alone serves as a reminder of how firmly ensconced he remains. Mingyu’s hand stays on his leg, his fingertips on the skin of his inner thigh. He fiddles with the silk of Joshua’s shorts, soft to his touch. Minghao sits still, watching Mingyu’s hand and Joshua’s face, waiting for a response even though he already knows exactly what Joshua will say. 

Joshua can’t even manage to get the words past his lips. 

“I…”

Minghao doesn’t call out his hesitation. That would be too easy. He leans forward instead, cocking his head, a provocation, an invitation, something. 

“Don’t tell me you just want to watch. I know you’re more fun than that. At heart, anyway.” 

Joshua scowls. “At heart?” he snaps. 

“See?” counters Minghao, grinning. “It’s nice when you get a little feisty.”

“I am not feisty.”

Minghao laughs, but he schools his expression not long after, the faintest, challenging curl in his lip. “But you do know what you want. I know you do. Things like that are usually pretty clear to you, even if you don’t act on them.”

Of course, as usual, expectedly, Minghao reads him to filth. He’s utterly bare — or is that just being known? 

He doesn’t give Joshua much time to sit with his words. He rises to his knees and pauses to hover over Mingyu, who blinks at him and smiles. Minghao traces the line of his ear. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’d still have fun if you just watched. You seemed to like it earlier, when you thought we didn’t know you were looking.”

Joshua isn’t even given any time to be embarrassed that he was caught. Minghao leans down to bring his mouth closer to Mingyu’s face. Mingyu is rife with attention, his entire body attuned to Minghao as he waits for him. The only exception is his hand still on Joshua’s thigh, curled tight. 

Joshua ignores the jab, casting his eyes aside in annoyance. 

 “You guys are hot. Sue me.”

Minghao snorts. He brushes Mingyu’s hair once but moves away without giving him a kiss, sitting up to look at Joshua again. Mingyu remains between them, still lying down, but Minghao and Joshua are upright, face to face, exactly in Mingyu’s line of sight. 

Taunting, Minghao nearly brushes his nose against Joshua’s. 

“Joshua,” he murmurs, “I know restraint is usually your friend, but tell me. Why are you holding back right now? Do you have something to lose? I think you might like it, if you let loose.”

Joshua’s gaze drops to Minghao’s mouth. It’s plush, full, pink. He notices Joshua looking and Joshua stares anyway. When he glances up, those sharp, watchful eyes are dark. 

“I’m not holding back,” says Joshua. 

“Oh, you’re not?” Minghao goads. He moves like a snake, gliding closer, preparing to sink his teeth in. Even the brush of his nose against the line of Joshua’s cheek is another challenge posed. The second their skin touches, Joshua feels like his chest might burst open. His heart is marathoning in his chest, and Minghao overwhelms him in every way. It’s the sweet smell of coconut from his shampoo, the flicker of his eyes, the warmth of his breath. 

All around Joshua, the tide is rising, but he’ll still float in the floodwater. 

He clenches his fist in the fabric of his own shorts and says, “I’m not.” 

Minghao’s eyes glint. 

“Prove it,” he whispers, and if Joshua did have anything to lose, it’s surely gone now. 

Finally they kiss, their mouths meeting hotly, teeth and tongue. Mingyu is still beneath them, staring up with wide eyes, his fingers creeping slowly up Joshua’s shorts until he’s touching the crease of Joshua’s hip. Feeling Mingyu’s gaze, Minghao curls his hand into Joshua’s hair and tugs him even closer. 

Minghao doesn’t kiss the way Mingyu does. He’s a little less eager to please, a little less sloppy. He’s controlled and controlling, exploring Joshua like he’s something to be discovered. It doesn’t take much time for him to learn. Before long, he’s biting Joshua’s lip just the way he likes it, and he’s stroking their tongues together until Joshua moans. When Minghao pulls back he makes sure to look, dragging his hand across Joshua’s cheek and letting his gaze go dark and heavy, like a storm cloud about to burst with summer rain. 

“Gorgeous,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous, Shua.”

Joshua flushes despite his attempts to control it, which of course Minghao doesn’t miss. His fingers tuck beneath Joshua’s chin, making sure he doesn’t look away. 

“Oh, you like that. You know you’re pretty, but you still like to hear it.”

Joshua lowers his lashes. “I’m only human, Myungho-yah.”

This makes Minghao laugh, and Joshua feels warmth pool in his belly, like he’s accomplished some great task. He looks down with a gasp when that hand on his thigh pulls to splay out his leg, Mingyu fixing his mouth to the newly exposed skin, hot and wet. 

Minghao immediately redirects his attention, putting a hand in Mingyu’s hair and rubbing behind his ear. He coos lightly. 

 “Are we ignoring you too much?” 

“No,” Mingyu breathes. He blinks up at them, but those warm brown eyes are blown black. “That was so hot.”

His mouth parts as soon as Minghao starts to move his hand, his thumb brushing along Mingyu’s parted lips. Joshua can only watch, transfixed on how forgiving Mingyu is for him. He’s so pliant and receptive, reacting to every touch Minghao offers him. 

“You’re always so good, Gyu.”

Joshua can practically see the way the praise courses through Mingyu’s body. He gives Minghao a lazy, satisfied grin, and Minghao continues to touch him, petting at his neck. 

“I told Joshua he should fuck you. He didn’t last time, did he?”

Mingyu shakes his head and looks at Joshua. His words come slowly, almost cautiously. “Hyung wanted me to fuck him.”

“He told me it was good,” says Minghao. 

“It was,” Joshua interjects. 

Minghao ignores him. 

“I’m sure you were very good, Mingyu-yah. But I know what you want, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Mingyu replies without hesitation. “But if hyung wants—”

“Joshua-hyung will trust my judgment this time, won’t he?”

Joshua swallows. It’s a sharp interruption, meant only for him. He looks at Mingyu again, still lying between them. His gaze is so attentive on Minghao, listening carefully to every word he says, seemingly willing to do anything he asks. Joshua is not quite so compliant, but he likes the idea of being guided by Minghao’s hand. He likes the idea of not having to think so much. And as he looks at Mingyu, beneath them and between them, tan and broad and muscular, he can’t say he’s not turned on by the idea of taking him. 

Joshua wants to feel that big, masculine body beneath him. He wants to touch every ridge of him, every place he’s hard and firm, every muscle reminding Joshua who’s the stronger of the two. He wants to press him into the bed, lace their hands together, and fuck him. He wants to feel it all. 

And it’s Mingyu. It’s Mingyu, who’d do anything to make him feel good, who’d hold him up or pin him down if he asked, who begged for him. Joshua wonders if he might even be able to get him to do it again. 

But if there’s one thing about Joshua, he never plays all his cards at once. It wouldn’t be as fun if he went along with Minghao’s every whim without a single question. 

He smooths over one of Mingyu’s eyebrows, along the perfect structure of his brow bone. 

“Do you like it that much?” he asks. 

“You know,” says Mingyu on an exhale. He sits up a little, running a hand down his own chest. “You know how good it feels, hyung. People look at me and think I wouldn’t like it, but I want it so bad. I like that. Being under someone. Someone fucking me. It’s not like I don’t like it the other way, I do, God, and with you, hyung, it was—”

Joshua interrupts him with a page taken out of Minghao’s book, a thumb pressed to Mingyu’s lip. He locks their eyes, hungry for an answer. 

“Mingyu-yah. Do you want me to fuck you?” 

“Yes. Yes. Please. I didn’t think I’d get to have you again.”

“You know it’s nothing personal,” says Joshua. 

Mingyu laughs, turns his face into Joshua’s palm, light. “Of course. That didn’t stop me from thinking about it.”

“Or talking about it,” Minghao interjects, his hand splayed on Mingyu’s abdomen. “You should’ve heard him, hyung. He’d rut up into nothing just thinking about you on his lap.” 

Joshua swears under his breath. Minghao grins in amusement. He must find it cute. He reaches out to flick one of the hoops in Joshua’s ear. 

“It made me curious,” he continues. 

Joshua lowers his gaze, mouth pursed. “Were you not curious before?” 

“Hmm,” Minghao says. He cocks his head, letting his eyes roam shamelessly up and down Joshua’s body. “I knew you were beautiful. I knew you’d be good in bed. I didn’t think you’d fuck your friends.”

“Neither did I,” says Joshua. 

“Wow,” murmurs Minghao. “Lucky me.” 

He creeps all the way over to Joshua before pushing him against the bed and straddling him. Minghao is light and lithe, carved from thin ribbons of muscle that Joshua can’t keep his hands off of. Like this, Joshua feels like he can finally kiss him without any inhibition. He’s dizzy knowing that he has Minghao in his lap and Mingyu beside him. He never thought he’d be in bed with two people, let alone two friends, who couldn’t feel and act more differently. Joshua learns quickly that Minghao likes to have control, and with Mingyu, it doesn’t require much for him to take it. Now that Joshua is between the two of them, he feels himself wavering on either side of the line. Does he want to give in to Minghao completely, or would it be more fun to offer him a little taste of his own medicine? 

 He breaks the kiss by pawing at Minghao’s shirt, smirking at him even though Minghao hovers so domineeringly over him. 

“Cute top,” Joshua teases, sneaking a hand beneath it. “Were you trying to seduce me or something?” 

Minghao laughs, flicking open one of the buttons on Joshua’s flimsy silk shirt. “I could say the same, hypocrite.”

“I’ll admit it though. I was.”

“Oh were you?”

Joshua nods, shameless for once. “I was shocked I had to come find you two.”

“We had pictures to look through,” says Minghao breezily. He kisses the corner of Joshua’s mouth. “I had to make sure you really wanted it.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “I do.” 

“Then let me take this off?” says Minghao, undoing another button. “I think you’ll seduce me much better with nothing on.” 

“Be my guest,” Joshua replies, but he still feels himself ballooning with anticipation. It doesn’t matter that he was around the two of them all day wearing less, it still makes his heart pound when Minghao undoes each of the buttons on his shirt. Minghao uses his fingers to push the fabric off Joshua’s shoulders, so slow and so sexy that Joshua wants to tremble. He nearly does, but when Minghao touches the skin of his upper back, he hisses. 

Minghao laughs at his reaction. “It’s not too late for the aloe.”

“Oh, I think it might be,” threatens Joshua, wearing a sickly sweet smile. 

Minghao heeds his point, but he touches Joshua’s sunburn again, just gentle enough to sting. Joshua takes a shuddering breath. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it,” says Minghao knowingly, not a question. He lowers his mouth to kiss Joshua’s neck. Joshua tilts and lets him, focused on every brush of Minghao’s lips against his skin, every touch of Minghao’s hands against the muscles of his chest. 

In Joshua’s ecstasy, in his greed, he thinks of the ways he could have more. Beside them, Mingyu lies patiently, just watching. He touches his own chest like he’s mimicking the actions of Minghao’s hand. Joshua beckons for him clumsily, panting, with a flailing hand against the mattress to get his attention. 

“Gyu,” he musters, “come kiss me.” 

Mingyu is there in what feels like an instant, his mouth on Joshua’s mouth, Minghao’s mouth on Joshua’s skin, and Joshua feels so stimulated it’s like every nerve in his body is alight. He’s never even allowed himself a fantasy like this, two gorgeous men on him at once. It’s greedy. It’s gluttonous. And it feels so good Joshua can’t even bring himself to care. 

He’s breathing heavily by the time Minghao pulls away. He’s sure the skin of his neck is blotchy and reddening. He has to break the kiss with Minghu to catch his breath. He knows they’re both looking at him. He feels raunchy and debauched. He never knew he’d like it this much. 

“Fuck,” Joshua spits. 

Minghao grins at his curse again. He must like it when Joshua swears. 

“Good?” he asks, brow raised knowingly. 

Joshua shoves him. “Shut up.”

“Such a cute hyung,” teases Minghao, and he ducks down to kiss Joshua’s belly, just because he knows it’ll tickle. 

Minghao moves his attention to Mingyu next, caressing his face and pushing a thumb into his mouth. His teasing smile morphs into a knowing smirk, so pleased to be watching Mingyu suck his finger. 

“You like it so much, don’t you?” 

He drops his finger for Mingyu’s reply, who licks his red mouth and replies, “So much.” He takes a deep breath and touches him, tracing Minghao’s shoulders. “Minghao,” Mingyu croaks, and Joshua likes the way he says Mingyu’s birth name, so raw, and with so much insistence. He doesn’t even ask for anything in particular, he just pleads, wanting whatever’s given to him. 

Mingyu hums, and then he snaps Mingyu’s waistband, who must know this as a cue to strip. 

It’s not like Joshua forgot how beautiful he is, but he’s really something else when he’s naked. He stands to do it, peeling off his shorts and briefs, then stretching tall. He’s big and tan and hard between his legs. Every inch of him is stunning. Looking at him, Joshua feels as if he’s simply doing his duty. Mingyu is something to be admired. 

Mingyu bends over to fish around for something in Minghao’s bag, and seeing him like that reminds Joshua of what he’s about to get, what he’s about to be given — those thick, strong legs and the warm place between them. 

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

Joshua, wordless, can only nod. 

“Hyung should probably be naked too.”

“And what about you?” Joshua counters. 

“You can ask for things,” says Minghao simply. 

Joshua lifts a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

Minghao, delighted and surprised, laughs and offers Joshua two firm pats on the cheek. “You catch on fast.” 

“I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“Pretty everywhere,” Minghao says with a lowered gaze. “Show me.”

Minghao says this as he’s already stripping himself, though with little finesse. He kicks off his clothes and tosses them aside. Joshua is slightly more aware of himself, and because of it, a little more deliberate in his actions. The truth is, he likes the idea of putting on a show, and he likes the attention he gets because of it. The two pairs of eyes on him dictate every move of his hand. Minghao, naked, lazily fists his length as he watches. Mingyu, kneeling on the bed again, has returned with a string of condoms and a bottle of lube, and he watches Joshua with wide eyes. 

Under their gazes, Joshua runs a hand down his chest. He’s proud of his body, and he knows how he looks now after all these months in the gym, often with Mingyu’s guidance. He stops his fingers at his waistband, teasing there just as Mingyu had when he sat behind him on the bow of the sailboat, his touch unrelentingly curious. Just as he goes to push his silk shorts all the way off, a better thought occurs to him. He snaps the band back into place and looks to his side. 

“Mingyu-yah. Come help me.” 

Mingyu scrambles over, rising on his knees between Joshua’s spread legs. Both of his hands sweep up the exposed parts of Joshua’s thighs, and he takes a moment just to look. Joshua feels the weight of Mingyu’s stare as his eyes rove over Joshua’s chest and arms. Then Mingyu bows down, an arch in his back as he presses his nose to the flat of Joshua’s stomach. With his mouth hovering over Joshua’s covered length, he takes a deep inhale. Joshua shudders. Mingyu’s lips leave a wet patch on his shorts before he pulls them down and off. 

There’s a moment where Joshua has to close his eyes when it settles in that they’re all naked, together. An intense heat settles in his neck and he knows it’s not going to leave. 

“So pretty,” Mingyu murmurs. He presses more kisses to Joshua’s bare hip, and he looks at Joshua’s dick like he’s forcing himself not to take it in his mouth. “Shit.” 

“He really does work you up.”

“Myungho,” Mingyu whines, blushing. 

“I’m not teasing,” says Minghao seriously. “I get it.” 

They’re both hovering over Joshua now, and he starts to feel a little cornered, like either of them might pounce on him at any moment. Ultimately, he’s spared, because they’re kissing each other before he can get any words past his lips. For as much as Joshua wants to watch the meeting of their mouths, he finds himself distracted by Minghao’s hand as it works its way down Mingyu’s back. His nimble fingers trace the warm, muscled skin to the dip of his waist, then the dimples at the base of his spine. When he reaches Mingyu’s ass, he stops to squeeze it, and Joshua hears Mingyu gasp into his mouth. Finally, after some teasing, Minghao’s fingers drift to the place where Mingyu must want him so, so badly. 

Two fingers drag over Mingyu’s hole. Joshua can barely see, but he can picture it, he can imagine how good it must feel, even if he’s only being teased. 

“You’re so good,” Minghao says. “So, so good. Already open for us, hm? You always know what to do.” 

Joshua feels his whole body clench as he hears those words. He stays fixated on Minghao’s fingers, still just exploring. He’s not giving Mingyu anything close to what he needs, but Mingyu is putty in his hands anyway, kissing sloppily, gasping when Minghao touches his wet entrance. 

“I figured we would…” Mingyu says, breathless against Minghao’s mouth. He even manages a crooked smile. “And like I said, the showers are nice.” 

Minghao snorts, unable to control his fond grin, and he gives Mingyu a firm pat on the butt. “Lie down. Do you need any more?”

Mingyu bites his lip and does as he’s told, touching his own chest subconsciously, oblivious to how he draws Joshua’s eye there, the swell of his muscles, the pebbled bud of his nipples, the ridge of his collarbone where Joshua would like to place his tongue. 

“Probably not, but…”

Minghao looks at Joshua. “He likes it.”

“Being fingered?” says Joshua. 

Minghao hums, and he reaches for one of Joshua’s hands to look at it. He holds Joshua’s palm between both of his own, his thumbs pressing into the center. His eyes trace the long lines of Joshua’s fingers like he’s inspecting them. 

“Pretty,” he decides, and he lowers his mouth to brush his lips along the pads of Joshua’s fingers. Joshua’s belly tightens in anticipation, thinking Minghao might take one into his mouth and suck, but Minghao leaves him with the excitement and nothing more. He removes his mouth with not even a kiss, and then he passes Joshua the bottle of lube. 

“Give him a little more.” 

Joshua blinks. He didn’t think it would be a role that fell to him. “Okay,” he replies, and he takes the bottle and turns to Mingyu, who’s waiting just as Minghao asked him to. Against his belly, his cock is hard and leaking a little, but he’s not touching himself. He looks at Joshua with eyes warm and wanting, and Joshua can’t help but lean down to kiss him. 

Before he realizes it, he gets a little carried away. He deepens the kiss, and in a desperate attempt to get closer and feel Mingyu beneath him, he winds up straddling Mingyu’s waist. Mingyu welcomes him closer, his big hands spanning Joshua’s back. Joshua feels Mingyu’s length between his legs, and as he licks into Mingyu’s hot, waiting mouth, he rocks back on it, chasing the feeling of being on top of him. 

He’s interrupted when Minghao starts laughing, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“You’re not a very good listener,” he mutters. He looks pointedly down at Mingyu’s dick, between Joshua’s spread legs. “You look like you wanna sit on it.”

Joshua bites his lower lip. 

“Maybe I do.” 

Mingyu is quiet and dazed beneath him, content to just have Joshua on him. Joshua can’t see Mingyu complaining if he really were to use him to split himself open. But Joshua knows he’s not in charge here, and Minghao asked him to do something, so he brushes Mingyu’s cheek once and gets off of him. He starts to resituate himself between Mingyu’s legs, but he’s stopped by Minghao tugging him closer. He takes Joshua by the jaw and kisses him hard. His hand skirts down Joshua’s back exactly the way he’d done to Mingyu, and Joshua gasps when he feels a wet finger at his hole. Minghao doesn’t push in, but he circles gently. Joshua didn’t even notice when Minghao reached for the bottle. He’d dropped it to give Mingyu a kiss. 

Minghao hovers his mouth by Joshua’s ear teasingly. 

“You’ll get what you want, if you really need it,” he says. “But you should really give Mingyu what he wants, too.” 

He locks their gazes, and Joshua thinks he understands why Mingyu likes this so much. Minghao’s gaze is sharp and his tone is sedate, speaking to Joshua slowly, as if that will help him understand. It’s a little humiliating, but the embarrassment loses out to the fact that he’d really like Minghao to be pleased with him. 

“Right. Right,” Joshua mumbles. 

Mingyu spreads his legs for him, and he’s wet but still tight. It’s always easier when someone else does it, Joshua knows, and it always feels better, too. So he works Mingyu open the same way he likes it, scissoring his fingers until Mingyu takes him nice and easy. Minghao takes Joshua’s place to kiss him, deeply and firmly, with one pretty hand gripping Mingyu’s jaw. They continue like that, turning Mingyu into a pliant, easy thing, moaning into Minghao’s mouth and rocking back onto three of Joshua’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, “that’s really good.”

Minghao grins wickedly. 

“Joshua-hyung should fuck you first, while you’re all tight.”

Joshua’s mouth drops open. “We’re both gonna…?”

Minghao looks down at Mingyu’s body, a little glossy with sweat now, and runs a finger down the neat center line of his abs. 

“You think I’d pass up on him?”

Joshua runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his scalp a little. He feels dizzy. He’s so hard he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“I don’t know.” 

Minghao laughs again, petting the side of Joshua’s neck. “It’ll be good, Shua. He likes it.”

Mingyu blinks up at them with heavy, fluttering eyelashes. 

“I do,” he says. 

“Okay,” Joshua says, as if to settle himself. “How do you want it, Mingyu-yah?” 

He licks his lips, looking down at Mingyu again. He’s still kneeling between Mingyu’s spread legs, and for a moment he thinks about fucking him like that. He thinks about turning Mingyu onto his side and tracing the line of his strong thighs. He thinks about how Mingyu’s back would look if he were on his hands and knees, his tight ass up, his arms straining. 

“However you want it, hyung.” 

The corner of Joshua’s mouth lifts. He had a feeling Mingyu might say that, but it’s still nice to hear him say it. He likes the idea of Mingyu being as yielding to him as he is to Minghao, willing to bend himself any way Joshua wants, just for his pleasure. 

“Yeah?” says Joshua. “What if I want you on your hands and knees?”

Mingyu’s throat bobs. “That’d be good. I can do that.” 

“Good,” says Joshua, and with a firm shove to his hip, Mingyu turns over. 

Minghao watches as this plays out, an impressed little smile on his face. He approaches Joshua from behind, his hands sliding over Joshua’s abdomen, his mouth settling against Joshua’s neck. He leaves a few kisses there. In a low voice, he teases, “You’re not so bad at this, Josh.”

“Shut up,” Joshua says with a scowl, but his mirth is stolen for him once more. Still kissing behind Joshua’s ear, Minghao wraps a hand around his length and strokes until Joshua’s hips are pistoning into his hand. Once Joshua is fully hard, Minghao rolls a condom onto him and lets him go with an encouraging bite to his shoulder. 

Mingyu is waiting for him in the position he asked for. His back is slightly arched, and even the smallest strain activates his muscles. His back ripples, broad and muscular, for Joshua to have and to touch however he wants. Joshua starts by running his hands over his shoulder blades teasingly. 

“Your traps are looking really good,” he quips, recycling Mingyu’s line from earlier. 

Mingyu leans over his shoulder to send him a glowing, satisfied smile, the kind that shows off the sharp points of his canines. 

“You think so?” he says, but his voice is not as steady as his smile, breath breaking up his words as Joshua grabs his hips, rubbing his cock against his entrance. 

“You’re gorgeous, Mingyu,” Joshua tells him, and he finally pushes inside. Mingyu is tight and hot and slick, but even like this, taking him, fucking him, Joshua still feels small. He knows exactly the way Mingyu’s frame can eclipse his own, and he thinks of that as he fucks him, leaning his weight onto Mingyu’s hips as he grips them hard. Mingyu feels good inside, and it’s clear from the first second Joshua is inside him how much he enjoys it. He puts an arch in his back, laying himself out for Joshua to take. Noises spill past his mouth like he can’t control them, high, desperate whimpers, and Joshua gets it. He gets what Minghao means, how good Mingyu is like this, how he’s made for it, how badly he wants it. 

Minghao is right by his side all the while, the voice in his ear, the mouth on his neck. He touches Mingyu’s back as Joshua fucks him, and to Joshua, he says, “You have to give it to him, Shua. Can’t you see how bad he wants it?” 

His words make Joshua speed up his hips, leaning over Mingyu’s body knowing he couldn’t possibly cover him, fucking him harder until Mingyu is slipping closer to the mattress. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joshua gasps, curling a hand by the nape of Mingyu’s neck. “He wants it.” 

“Joshua,” Mingyu cries, “please, please, I want it.”

Joshua groans hearing him beg again. He didn’t even have to try before Mingyu was utterly desperate for him, so Joshua fucks him in hard, quick strokes, the sound filling the room. Minghao’s touch never leaves them, his hands on Joshua’s hips, telling him to fuck Mingyu harder, like this, he likes it here. 

When Joshua starts to feel himself getting close, Minghao is by his ear again, curling his hands into Joshua’s waist and saying, “Stop.”

Joshua can hardly register what he said. He keeps his hips moving in slow circles, his head thrown back, his hair sticking to his forehead. 

“What?” 

“Listen to me,” murmurs Minghao. He traces Joshua’s jaw with his fingertips, following the bead of sweat that ran down from his temple. “You feel good, don’t you?”

“So good,” Joshua moans. Mingyu is going crazy beneath him, squirming with Joshua still inside of him, but he doesn’t push back against Joshua’s cock. He just waits, his muscles shifting in his impatience. 

“If you flip him over,” Minghao continues, “you can sit on his hand while I fuck him. Do you want that, Shua? Do you wanna feel his fingers in you again? I think you do. I’ll kiss you, too, and I’ll show you what he looks like when he comes like this.” 

“Shit,” Joshua gasps, tipping his neck back. The ceiling fan rustles his hair, and the cool air makes him shiver. “This is insane.” 

Minghao takes advantage of his exposed neck and bites him there. 

“He’s good, isn’t it?”

“Really good,” Joshua praises. He rocks his hips forward again, pushing his thumbs against Mingyu’s hole where it’s stretched around him. 

Minghao watches on, impressed but knowing. He grips the back of Joshua’s neck, who hisses at the hand on his sunburn, but he doesn’t try to shake Minghao’s hand off. 

“You could come like this, right? Fuck him until you lose control? You could, if I let you. But you want his hand, don’t you. You want something inside of you.” He chuckles. “With the two of you like this, it’s a good thing I’m here, hm?” 

He’s smug and cocksure about it, but it’s true, and hearing him say it sends a fiery rush of attraction through Joshua. He pulls out, Mingyu whining, but Minghao takes his place in a second, kissing down Mingyu’s back. He hovers his mouth over Mingyu’s hole for just a moment, and Joshua sees the way Mingyu clenches in anticipation for something warm and wet, but Minghao doesn’t give it to him. He pats Mingyu’s hip for him to turn over, and then he’s face up, his chest red, his mouth red, his cock red, and he’s leaking, waiting for more. Minghao goes right between his legs, already slicked up, pushing in as he pulls Joshua for a kiss. 

Joshua is stunned by how smooth and in control Minghao is, compared to himself who can hardly think straight. Minghao kisses him steadily, his hips already fucking into Mingyu in neat strokes, and his hand reaches for Joshua’s hard length, pulling off the condom for him. 

“He’s useless like this,” Minghao says. “You’ll have to use his hand on your own. He’s not gonna help you.”

“‘M not useless,” says Mingyu. 

“Yeah?” says Minghao, flicking beneath his chin. “Show me then.” 

But he can’t. He just takes it and takes it, at the mercy of Minghao, so deliberate and sharp. Every movement of Minghao’s body is pointed, and exactly where Mingyu wants him. Mingyu turns his head to the side on the pillow and looks at Joshua, sorry and pleading. He doesn’t realize that his inability to do anything but take what Minghao gives him only serves to turn Joshua on even more. But Joshua still wants what he wants, what Minghao promised him, so he kisses Mingyu once and then seeks out his splayed, useless hand. Joshua drizzles Mingyu’s fingers in lube until they’re slick and then he kneels above his hand, lowering himself until Mingyu is just shy of touching him. Only then does Mingyu remember how to use his fingers, and he traces Joshua’s hole, haphazard and uncoordinated. He manages to stretch Joshua a little bit, just enough, until Joshua can bounce on the two fingers pushed into him. He moans, using Mingyu’s hand like it’s his cock. 

Minghao pushes his hair out of his eyes and slows his hips even as Mingyu goes crazy beneath him, just to watch the show. 

Joshua can’t take his gaze. 

“Minghao,” he whines, and Minghao must take pity on him, or maybe he likes it when Joshua is desperate, because for his whimper he earns a kiss. Joshua comes with Mingyu’s fingers curling into him, his own hand wrapped around his length, and Minghao’s tongue against his teeth. As soon as he’s finished, Minghao leans over Mingyu and gives it to him the way he really likes, those strong legs over Minghao’s shoulders, and Mingyu takes it until he’s coming, messy on his stomach. Minghao has him and has him and has him, even after Mingyu is spent, even when he’s squirming, until he comes, too, knowing Mingyu wouldn’t dare pull away. 

The come down is quick. 

Joshua goes to get them towels. He returns to Minghao smoothing over Mingyu’s hair and talking to him in a gentle voice. Minghao looks at him, and he smiles softly. 

“Thanks, hyung.” 

Minghao wipes off Mingyu, then himself. Mingyu stretches overhead but stays sprawled naked and shameless on the bed. Joshua, stilted, doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. 

“Fuck, that felt good,” says Mingyu. 

Minghao hums in agreement. He lies next to Mingyu, looking worn out. After the day they had, Joshua is surprised he made it to this point. He usually tires much easier. 

“Did you like it, hyung?” says Mingyu. He’s really such a vision. Even fucked out and exhausted, he still looks so beautiful. Joshua has to ignore whatever pulse he feels in his lower belly when Mingyu looks up at him like that, a hand tracing his abdomen. 

He blinks when he’s addressed. He didn’t realize the way he’d frozen, his shorts back on, his shirt back in his hand like he’d forgotten to put it on. 

“It was really good,” Joshua replies, but he must sound a little awkward. 

“You’re welcome,” quips Minghao. “After all that convincing, I guess it was worth your while.”

Joshua immediately scowls at him. “Forgive me for not knowing the proper protocol and decorum when it comes to fucking two of my friends.” 

This makes Minghao burst into laughter, bright like tinkling bells. He sits up to pull Joshua onto the bed by the wrist. 

“Don’t tell me you’re uptight again,” he mutters. He presses a light kiss to Joshua’s mouth, then another, and Joshua melts at once, opening up for him without question. 

“I’m not,” he replies, vying for another kiss. 

“Good,” Minghao murmurs levelly. 

“No stress, hm, Shua-hyung?” says Mingyu happily. “We’re still on vacation.” 

“I know. Actually, it kind of just started. We still have four days left.” 

“Exactly,” says Minghao. “Maybe by the end of it you’ll get to bottom.”

“I hate you.” 

Minghao laughs and kisses Joshua’s hair. “You’re really so cute.”

Joshua huffs, but he’s smiling. Minghao really does have him all figured out.