Archive of Our Own

3:10pm.

The analog clock on the wall is the only miscellaneous item left in his gloomy room and Heeseung has been staring at it long enough to watch the minute hand pass over the hour hand twice. Sitting on his bare, cream-coloured mattress, his restless gaze darts between the clock and the four giant moving boxes stacked by the wall across his bed. Panic pinballs through his body at the sight of them, palpable only in the restless bounce of his knee. He’s been fighting not to give in to the impending feeling of doom that has been gradually eating away his sanity over the past few weeks.

His phone lights up with a new notification every few seconds, but he deliberately pays it no mind. He’s got so much to say to so many people, yet he knows nobody will really listen. For the past however many months he’s been racking his tired brain to come up with ever new ways to express his emotions to various people, yet every time he’s been faced with the same agonising scepticism and misgivings, to the point he wonders if he should ever say anything at all.

The only people he has been able to face are the same ones whose faint voices he listens to with quiet longing, the familiar cacophony of screams, laughter, and colourful conversation echoing through the dorm, subdued by his closed bedroom door. If Heeseung just leans back and closes his eyes, he might be able to delude himself into thinking that nothing will change at all. That the delirious existence he’s lived for the past weeks has been the slow foreteller of his waking from whatever lucid nightmare he’s currently trapped inside of. He takes a shaky breath, but the storm inside him refuses to settle.

When he opens his eyes, it is to a faint knock on his door.

“Come in.”

His voice cracks as cleanly as a bone. He clears his throat and croaks it out again, quieter.

Jungwon’s head peaks into the room, eyes scanning the irritating emptiness of the room. He clears his throat when his eyes land on Heeseung, quietly, like he’s trying not to burst whatever cloying bubble Heeseung has been hiding in for the past few hours. Well, hiding is the wrong word. They all gave him the space he wanted, because Heeseung said he needed it. But looking at the familiar sharp features of Jungwon’s face, he’s not so sure of that anymore.

“Hyung,” Jungwon calls him, cautiously, slowly, like the word threatens to uncurl the loose ropes tangled around his heart. “Hyung, do you need help?”

Heeseung watches Jungwon’s sharp gaze dart left and right through his room; over the dirty mirror, the empty desk and coat hangers, the dust bunnies in his emptied closet, then back to him.

“Oh.” He looks defeated. “I guess not.”

Heeseung gives him a shrug and a small smile. He pulls his shaky leg up on the bed and wraps his arms around it, catching Jungwon frown at him. “I was done quickly. The room is small.”

The truth is rather that there was never much stuff in it to begin with. Heeseung had never thought his life would ever be defined only by his own possessions, never considered there might come a day where the illusory lines of their shared existence would be drawn in permanent ink. In a way, he regrets it now. Packing a whole life into boxes wasn’t supposed to be this easy. It should have felt monumental. Instead it dwarfed him.

Jungwon curls into the room fully. He doesn’t close the door and Heeseung feels the shadows of the other five members creeping in beside him.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, hyung. But if there’s anything you need, or want to do, or say, we’re still here. Today, tomorrow, and every day in the future too. You do know that, right?”

His voice is gentle, full of genuine love and care. It tugs at Heeseung’s flaking heartstrings. Cauterises some of his fear. He’s never deserved them. And now he’s leaving them.

He says as much. It might as well be the last time he ever feels complete enough to do so.

When he looks at Jungwon again, he shivers.

“No,” his leader tells him in that strangled tone of his that makes every hair on Heeseung’s neck stand. “You will never be leaving us, hyung. Not ever.”

To anybody else, these words may have sounded like a threat. To Heeseung, they are a promise; a reminder that the red strings of fate coated in their blood had wrapped around their fragile bodies eons ago, and that the world can try to cut and rip and break them apart no faster than they will sprout and morph back together. Heeseung knows that, yet he does need a little reminder from time to time.

He’s so very grateful for Jungwon. More than words can ever express. Their leader in more ways than one, their unwavering pillar, their foundation on which each of them have been lifted to grow and shine and flourish. The one holding everything together. The only one among them who could ever truly understand what it is like being stuck in Heeseung’s acrid skin, the burdens of the oldest and the burdens of the leader balancing each other out in mutual empathy.

“Will you come sit with us?” he asks then, hope sparking a glint in his eyes that blinds Heeseung. “We can watch a movie, or play that game on the Switch you like. Or we can eat some ramen.”

He’s trying, even after everything, and Heeseung is so, so grateful.

“I’ll come in a minute,” he answers, and Jungwon gives him a muted nod before closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

He leaves Heeseung behind in the tenebrous stillness of his room and all the vivid memories he’s made in it. First kisses, second kisses, third kisses turning into hundreds, naked limbs splayed out on crusty sheets, peeling and probing and tugging at feverish bodies trembling like leaves caught in the wind. Door left wide open because they never had any secrets among each other and nobody even remembers how it started. Lion-bold love immortalised in the scratch marks clawed into the wall above his headboard, in the stains speckling his bedsheets, in the torn fabric of his pyjama shirt that’s lost a button or two in the heat of the moment, in the fading bruises sucked into his thighs that he doesn’t remember who left them there.

The other rooms all look the same. It comforts him, knowing that even after all of them are gone these walls will still carry their clandestine story underneath a fresh coat of paint, the story of all seven of them.

In a moment of fearless daydreaming Heeseung wonders if they will still come into his room sometimes even after he’s gone. If they will pile on his bed and make love and cling to the furrowed marks on the wall in the shape of his nails and breathe his name into each other’s mouths like he’s never left at all.

He slips off the bed and pats into the kitchen, where all of them have gathered around the white table and try deliberately not to stare at him like he’s a spectre wandering its ancient halls. Failing miserably at it.

“Hi,” Heeseung whispers, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Just stares at the empty bowl of cereal in front of Ni-ki that he always refuses to put away after finishing. Jake and Jungwon put their phones down when they hear him, Jay scratches his arm rather awkwardly, which is so unlike him, Sunoo is imitating a smile, and Sunghoon is just… taking him in. His rough-hewn face beautiful and blank. Yet he’s the first to speak.

“Come here, hyung,” he says.

Heeseung doesn’t know what ‘here’ means, until Sunghoon drags his chair back with a grating noise, spreads his legs for Heeseung to step between them and opens his arms for Heeseung to fall into them. Beckoning him home.

So Heeseung takes the last three steps he can muster up the energy for and does just that. Sunghoon catches him easily in his big arms, wraps them around Heeseung’s small waist and presses his face against Heeseung’s pillow-soft tummy. Heeseung’s head falls in defeat, arms slipping off of Sunghoon’s broad, bulging shoulders.

“Oh, hyung,” Sunoo sighs as he watches the scene unfold, crestfallen, and then he’s up and hugs Heeseung from behind, pressing gentle kisses against the moles on the back of his neck. One after the other they gather around until they don’t know which limb belongs to who anymore.

Heeseung really doesn’t want to cry. If he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop. It’s not the end of the world, he tells himself thus. There’s a bright future ahead for all of them, he tries to quell the walloping trepidation inside him. But deep down he knows things will never be the same again.

They’ve got so few hours left of the kaleidoscopic life they’ve built together for the past six years and Heeseung needs his members now more than ever. So he lets himself descend.

When his legs give out, somebody catches him before his bony knees hit the dirty linoleum floor. He doesn’t know who, but next thing he registers is somebody picking him up bridal-style and he gladly tilts his head to the side to bury it into the sun-warm chest until he’s fairly certain by the citrusy smell that it’s Jay who’s holding him.

They carry him into Sunghoon’s room. It’s always his when they get together like this, perhaps because it is the centre of their apartment, perhaps because it has the biggest bed and a chair to fit two more people, perhaps because they are all enamoured by the lovely way Sunghoon’s brows furrow and a sigh escapes his perfect lips when he finds yet another old love stain on his expensive linen even though they thought they’d cleaned it all up so thoroughly.

Being carried like this, Heeseung feels floaty already; not in the way he does when one of his members fucks and fucks him for hours on end until his body has been wrung out and splintered and sewn back together and he’s all numb and can’t even remember his own name; but in a way that feels like falling, like singeing until his cells dilate and burst and the wax made of his bone marrow drips through their open palms. Like every thought he’s ever had disperses into a cloud of cotton-candy oblivion. Thinking he’s done enough of in the past months for a lifetime. All that’s left now is letting himself feel.

Jay sets him down gently on Sunghoon’s bed and it is only when Jay swipes a thumb over his high cheekbone that Heeseung realises he started crying along the way. When he does, he quickly wipes the rest of the tears away with the long sleeves of his black-and-white striped cardigan that is not his, not anyone’s, just theirs.

They’re all standing around the bed, watching him do it. This is exactly why Heeseung had spent the last couple hours holed up in his room instead of facing them all. The love and pain in their eyes petrifies him.

“You look pitiful, hyung,” Sunoo breaks the quiet, in that tone of his that’s both teasing and empathetic. “We shouldn’t be spending our last day together mourning like this.”

“Cut him some slack,” Jake answers. “You don’t know what it’s like to leave a whole life and home behind.”

“We’re all hurting,” Jungwon says. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy. But we’ve talked about this so many times. It’s not what we want, but it’s what’s best.”

Jungwon says it with such conviction, Heeseung can’t help but believe it’s true.

“More than anything, it’s Heeseung-hyung’s last day,” Ni-ki chimes in, reaching out to put a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder and dig his thumb into the hollow above his collarbone. “What do you want, hyung? What do you need?”

“You.”

The word comes out so fast he almost chokes on it.

Nobody is surprised by Heeseung’s answer. They all knew the present moment would come – the last hours they get to spend together as one in mind, heart, body and soul. And Heeseung had always seen their physical connection as a tangible extension of their prophetic bond that had been forged so many years ago in the purgatory that was I-Land, where they had been unmade and reborn and cast out into the sea to drown. Heeseung needed it more than the others. For a long time he’d thought that made him weak. His members taught him better.

Heeseung craves to be taken to that elysian realm just one last time, to sit among his Gods and taste the forbidden fruit fed to him on a silver platter. Swallow their seed and let it grow in his belly until their love sprouts from every pore. There is something transcendental about their lovemaking when it is all of them together, something purging, and Heeseung will trigger the Fall and swallow the last beam of light until he comes out the other side purified and perfected and free of sin. Everything is uncertain from tomorrow on and if they never have an opportunity to offer themselves up like this again, then Heeseung will hold up the knife on his knees and bow his honey-golden neck in surrender. Make sure their final time is memorable enough to nurture him for a lifetime.

“We’ll show you,” Ni-ki rasps, his looming presence casting a palpable shadow onto Heeseung’s slim, fragile body. “We’ll show hyung how much we’ll always want you.”

Jake’s lips are on his first. Gentle but coaxing he climbs onto Heeseung’s lap, presses them both down into the sheets like he couldn’t wait for it and seals their lips together. Something bursts in Heeseung’s chest at the touch, warm and red and swimming through his bloodstream to penetrate every crevice of his body. Jake laps at his lips wetly again and again until he gets tired of waiting for Heeseung to open up and just pries his jaw open with his thumb so he can slip his conch-pink tongue into his mouth. He groans when he tastes him and Heeseung swallows the sound up, lets it reverberate through his ribcage as he wraps one arm around Jake’s back and buries the other hand in his thick, dirt-brown hair.

This. This is something familiar. This is something Heeseung knows how to do. His heart rabbits and he decides he’s just going to live in the next few hours for the rest of his ephemeral life.

Jake’s kisses have a way of making everyone feel like he could never get enough, like they colonise his mind and multiply in his heart until it explodes out of him, and Heeseung lets Jake tilt his head and pull on his lips with his teeth and lick along the roof of his mouth however he wants until their jaws ache.

Jake has always been eager like that. Bad at waiting, bad at letting himself be undone slowly, bad at matching anybody else’s pace because he’s always wanted more from the very first moment they ever laid hands on each other like this. It was always Jake that had showed them new things, new touches, new ways to soak each other up and make each other fall apart. But Heeseung doesn’t mind that Jake always comes and digs his fangs in deep. When it truly matters, he listens.

Heeseung feels Jake trace the shape of his teeth with his tongue and with a heavy heart tries not to think about the nights he’ll be spending alone over a steaming pot of ramen instead of with Jake’s firm hand in his hair as he makes him kneel and work for it.

Eventually Jake pulls away, but he keeps his hand on Heeseung’s jaw and slips a finger into his mouth instead. Embarrassment surges up the back of Heeseung’s neck and tints his cheeks ruby-red like his lips left puffy from Jake’s kisses. He thinks Jake wants him to suck on it, the way he likes it when Heeseung sucks his cock, so he closes his lips around it and does and the humiliation of being watched by everyone swarms through him like a colony of ants and sets his skin on fire.

But Jake only slips said finger deeper and presses down on the back of Heeseung’s tongue until his mouth opens wide because he gags. A full-body shiver runs through Heeseung and Jake makes him gag twice more, sour-sweet bile starting to rise in his throat. The fingers of Jake’s other hand thread through his ash-blonde hair softly and then somebody curses as Jake pulls on Heeseung’s teeth to pry his jaw open even wider and a thick glob of spit drips from his own lips right into Heeseung’s rose-pink mouth.

The vulgarity of it exalts him. His cock twitches when the spit hits his tongue, viscid fluid stretching long and sweet like warm candy as it trickles further down his mouth. He can tell Jake is already half-hard, his sweet puppy eyes fixed on Heeseung’s Adam’s apple as he lets the spit run to the back of his throat until his body forces him swallow. He sticks out his tongue to show that he did and Jake groans and sucks it back between his teeth and grinds his hips against Heeseung’s until they both moan.

“Good boy,” Jake whispers into the small space between them and Heeseung preens.

Somebody else joins on the bed and then a different pair of lips seals over his. Heeseung immediately knows it’s Jay – not by the kiss but by the annoyed groan Jake lets out as his head gets nudged out of the way crassly.

“Move, Jakey. Hyung is not just yours to claim.”

Jake huffs. “I kissed him for two minutes tops.”

“You spat in his mouth.”

“Like he doesn’t like it. Like you haven’t done worse to him.”

They glare at each other for a moment, tension curdling thick like putrid blood, until Jungwon’s vivid voice slices the silence like a scalpel. “Cut it, you two,” he orders, and his searing tone leaves no room for objection.

Jake acquiesces and makes room for Jay, leaving a wet trail of kisses down Heeseung’s flushed neck before getting up to take his clothes off. When Heeseung tilts his head in his direction he notices that Sunghoon has taken a seat on the stormcloud-grey armchair that’s facing the bed, Sunoo throned in his lap with his back to Sunghoon’s chest and Sunghoon’s hand under his shirt, teasing his nipples.

Standing next to them, Ni-ki’s got his big hands splayed out over Jungwon’s bare chest and tummy, licking and sucking on the juncture where his jaw meets his neck, though his eyes are fixed on what’s happening on the bed. He’s hugging Jungwon from behind, their obvious height difference only adding to the appeal of the scene, and slowly works open every button of Jungwon’s light blue dress shirt. Except the very last one, making the shirt fall off his hyung’s left shoulder in a tantalising droop.

When Heeseung catches Jungwon’s eye, his wanting gaze swathes him. Everybody’s doing things on their own accord, yet Heeseung knows Jungwon’s got them all under control. That’s just how they work. They’d thrash their halos and self-immolate by his altar at the faintest murmur of his lotus-flavoured voice.

Jay meets his gaze too, ducks his head in apology, then turns back to Jake. In a much calmer voice he proclaims, “Let me show you how to really make him fall apart.”

And that’s as much of a warning as Heeseung gets before Jay’s lips are back on his and his hands singe him everywhere at once – his face, his neck, his chest, under his shirt, at the small of his back, on his thighs still clad in grey sweatpants, on his ass. He pushes and pulls and moulds Heeseung’s body against his, tongue swiping against the roof of Heeseung’s mouth, teeth clashing. Heeseung can barely breathe, but dizziness alights him.

Jay is possessive. Together with Jungwon, he’s probably the most possessive out of all of them. Confident, a little cocky but always a gentleman, always sweet to the person he’s got trembling beneath him. Until they think it’s safe, at which point he’ll twist his knife into all their wounded spots and squeeze and jut and dab until they’re peeled open enough for him to carve his name straight into their bones. Jay fucks them so hard they feel him for days, because he always likes to make sure they remember that he knows them inside out; how to push every button, how to coax out every sound, how to use his words and how to curl his finger and move his tongue just right so they’ll scream for him. It’s infuriating that he’s as good as he thinks he is, but it’s also so hot Heeseung melts like a glacier beneath him.

Jay pushes up Heeseung’s cardigan and licks over his nipple, then orders Heeseung to hold said cardigan up with his hands so he’s got both his own free. He moves one to twist and pinch Heeseung’s second nipple, the other he slides into the front of Heeseung’s bulging pants and grabs his hardening cock. Want zings through Heeseung and sets his body vibrating, pain and pleasure see-sawing in his brain.

Heeseung gasps when Jay starts pulling on his cock, the friction dry and painful but still hot enough to make him twitch with overwhelming need. His back arches prettily when Jay sucks on his nipple, then on the other, scraping his teeth over Heeseung’s pulsing chest as he moves between them. He can undoubtedly feel how quickly Heeseung is starting to get wet, dripping stickily into his pants, and Jay chuckles and kisses his way up to Heeseung’s heart-shaped mouth before claiming it with his tongue.

“Always so sensitive on your nipples, baby,” Jay taunts him in English. Twists one of them again to accentuate his point so Heeseung whines into his mouth. “So pretty when you start falling apart. And we haven’t even taken a single piece of clothing off you yet.”

Heeseung shivers but doesn’t get to reply because Jay just keeps kissing him, hot-gluing himself to Heeseung’s larynx so every thought of them every being ripped apart dissipates into a jet-black void that collapses in on itself like a supernova. A cosmic fusion that leaves Heeseung’s body radiating with it. They’ve spent too many years together to let the universe break them apart just like that.

Somebody curses, but it’s neither him nor Jay, so then both their heads tilt into the direction of the voice. Sunoo bounces naked on the chair, riding two of Sunghoon’s fingers, slick and shimmering like the shell of an abalone, his head thrown back over his hyung’s shoulder and his pretty body glistening from sweat. Heeseung watches where skilled fingers disappear inside him, hot pink rim stretched around slender digits, and feels a pang of jealousy. Emptiness springs inside him like an unwanted weed and craves to be filled. But Sunghoon’s eyes are only fixed on him, pupils blown so wide his eyes pitch-blacken, and his speckless lips stretch into a lopsided smirk when he notices Heeseung’s staring.

“Don’t worry, hyung. You’ll get these fingers, too.” He digs his fangs into Sunoo’s shoulders and licks over the wounded spot, eyes never leaving Heeseung. “Sunoo-yah, sweetheart, keep going.”

Jay goes back to kissing along Heeseung’s neck and Adam’s apple and Heeseung shivers when Sunoo’s lust-filled eyes flutter open at the mention of his name. He looks at Heeseung as he keeps using Sunghoon’s fingers to spear himself open, the tremble of his pretty lashes causing a hurricane inside Heeseung’s lungs. Heeseung’s cock twitches pathetically and he groans, pushes his hips up against where Jay is burning and throbbing, too. Chasing some friction, anything at all to take the edge off.

Meanwhile Jake has joined Ni-ki and Jungwon. Jungwon’s pants pool around his feet but his shirt still hangs off his shoulder as Jake’s head bobs up and down on his cock. His lips stretch obscenely around Jungwon’s thick girth, eyes closed and letting out little sounds of visceral pleasure, just like the man whose cock he’s sucking. Jake has always had an oral fixation, always asking somebody to fuck his face or to sit on his nose or put a finger in his mouth. The hand in his hair that guides him isn’t Jungwon’s though, it’s Ni-ki’s, who’s grinding his clothed cock against the small of Jungwon’s back as he pulls Jake’s head so close to Jungwon’s tummy Jake starts to gag on his dick.

“Fuck, Ni-ki-yah, Jake-hyung, pull off or I’ll come.”

Ni-ki retrieves his hand immediately to play with Jungwon’s tits instead. Jake too pulls away, albeit reluctantly, eyes glossy and lips swollen. Over Jay’s shoulder, Heeseung can tell he’s pouting.

“You don’t wanna come?” he asks, wiping trickles of spit from the corners of his mouth as he looks up at Jungwon, his own small cock hard and leaking between his skinny thighs.

“No. Not like this. I want to come inside Heeseung-hyung.”

Jungwon shoots a glance at Heeseung, wordlessly asking for permission, but Heeseung will always say yes to him even if he asked him to cut out his heart and feed it to him raw. So he nods.

Jungwon’s eyes narrow. “Actually, I want us all to come inside Heeseung-hyung.”

Ni-ki, who’s always had a thing for his hyung’s sloppy seconds, groans against Jungwon’s neck at his words. Heeseung wonders if this is something that comes with growing up worshipping your hyungs. Always eager to lap up every juicy seed they are willing to churn back up and spit out at his feet. Ni-ki’s learned everything from them, and they’ve moulded him into their most dazzling creation.

Heeseung’s cock twitches at the prospect of being filled to the brim by all his members, dripping their come, carrying so much inside him that his body can’t keep it in even if he tries. He buries his hands in Jay’s hair, whose teeth and tongue have been leaving little marks all over his chest and hips, and pulls him off gently.

“Somebody fuck me,” he begs. “Now. Please.”

He hears it in his own voice, how desperate he sounds, how much he craves their every scouring touch.

Sunoo yelps when Sunghoon pulls out his fingers, wiping the remnants of his spit on the younger’s milky thighs. Sunoo pouts but slips off Sunghoon’s lap to let him get up, then plops himself back down on the warmed chair. Sunghoon moves to the end of the bed, ruffling Jake’s messy hair as he passes him still kneeling by Jungwon’s feet, and starts unbuttoning his shirt achingly slow, gaze never once leaving Heeseung.

Sunghoon is beautiful. Heeseung means it not just in the way he looks, but in the way he speaks, the way he thinks, the way every word and touch of his are always deliberate, warm, gentle. Sunghoon had always stuck by Heeseung’s side since the very beginning, like a lifeline that pulled him back whenever he threatened to be washed away by the overwhelming current of their lives. For all the ways in which Sunghoon doesn’t take himself too seriously, Heeseung has never seen him not be one hundred percent honest with them, never seen him not give himself to them so completely and letting them give themselves to him in the same way.

Sunghoon is ethereal and Heeseung adores him in the way an art critic adores a beautiful statue, imagining what it would be like made of bone instead of marble. Except Heeseung does not have to guess, because Sunghoon is all flesh and blood and the liquid love that spills from his body and fills up Heeseung’s lungs is the realest thing he’s ever felt.

Nonetheless, Sunghoon is a little annoying in the way he knows he’s so sexy, in the way he looks Heeseung up and down like he’s going to eat him alive, because he knows Heeseung will thaw under his touches like he always does. When he shrugs off his shirt and steps out of his pants, leaving himself bare except for his black, tented boxers, Heeseung can’t help but ogle him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can tell everybody else is too.

Except maybe Jay, who knows what’s coming as soon as he feels the bed beneath him dip.

“Jay-ah, move over. Let me get hyung ready.”

Jay reaches for Heeseung’s head then, cups it and presses a single, innocent kiss to his lips before brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Heeseung’s heart grows a thousand tiny wings at the gesture.

“I’ll be back later. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Heeseung snorts. “Sure.”

Jay scrambles off the bed. He shuffles over to kiss Jungwon filthily and get Jake’s needy mouth filled again.

Watching them impatiently, Sunoo wriggles around on the chair. “Ni-ki-yah,” he calls, “do you think you’ve got two rounds in you?”

He scoots to the edge of the chair and spreads his legs wide, exposing his slightly loosened hole, and Ni-ki lets go of Jungwon (who’s busy eating Jay’s face off anyway) to pounce on him like a feline leaping onto its prey. The last thing Heeseung sees before Sunghoon’s pretty face obscures his view is Ni-ki bending Sunoo in half with one hand while hurriedly unbuckling his belt and popping open the button on his washed-out denim jeans with the other. The sound rattles in their ears.

Sunghoon likes to make his gentle presence known by peppering Heeseung’s small face in kisses. He loves to do it because Heeseung pretends to hate it, or maybe Heeseung pretends to hate it because Sunghoon loves to do it. Either way, he shifts around and digs his nails into Sunghoon’s biceps to try and push him away, but he’s not using any force and it would be futile either way. The smile blooming on his face betrays him too.

“Hi, darling,” Sunghoon coos and then has the audacity to ruffle Heeseung’s hair too.

Sunghoon treats them all like his children sometimes. It’s irritating. It makes Heeseung’s stomach swoop.

“Sunghoon-ah,” he asks, voice soft and quiet and dipped in allium nectar. “Are you going to fuck me?”

Hope swirls in his tummy like a sundae scoop. Sunghoon chuckles but doesn’t reply and so the hope sours in his belly. He kisses his way down Heeseung’s shaky body, from the corner of his lips to his chin to his neck, over the prominent slope of his collarbones and the gentle swell of his ribcage down down down to his belly button where he dips his tongue and makes Heeseung’s brain short-circuit. He nips at Heeseung’s v-line and noses at the soft trail of hair guiding him further down before lifting his head and looking up at Heeseung through thick, black lashes. Sunghoon’s wanton gaze fossilises him.

Then, he ducks his head to lick a broad stripe over the precum-soaked fabric of Heeseung’s sweatpants and Heeseung throws an arm over his face and moans. He does it again and Heeseung’s hips jump, so Sunghoon grabs his love handles and pins them against the bed with bulging arms.

“So squeamish already?”

Heeseung can taste the gluttony in his voice. Sunghoon licks another stripe up the imprint of his cock, then palms him roughly and revels in the strangled mewl jerked out of him.

“I could make you come just like this, darling. Should I? Do you want to dirty yourself like that?” He plants a kiss where the waistband of Heeseung’s joggers meets his skin. He isn’t wearing any underwear. “Those pants belong to me. It’d be nice if they smelled of you even after you’re gone.”

Heeseung groans but thrashes his head, Sunghoon’s words like ice sluicing over his heart. Desire coils inside him, visceral and burning, and Heeseung lets out a startled gasp when Sunghoon lifts his lower body up and rips off his pants like he’s merely blowing on a down feather. He sets him back down, leaving Heeseung bare apart from his soft cardigan still bunched up around his pecs.

He spreads Heeseung’s legs wide, exposing him to everyone, and the shame of being splayed out like this ribbons through him in tumefying waves. He can hear the slippery-wet slap of Ni-ki’s balls against Sunoo’s ass, the gurgling sounds of Jake gagging around Jay’s cock and the murmured words of praise Jungwon sprinkles at him, yet their eyes are dissecting him, too. Knows they are watching, waiting, soaking up every little noise he makes under Sunghoon’s touches and letting it fuel their desire.

“You’re so lovely, hyung,” Sunghoon tells him, digging his clipped, pretty nails into the still-bruised skin of Heeseung’s thighs.

The marks there have different ages, their shapes are sevenfold. Blue, yellow, purple, black, and the red streaks where they made Heeseung claw at himself ‘til he drew his own blood. They laughed at him and licked it all up, eyes gleaming. Took Heeseung’s body and turned it into a prism revealing the very colours of their love.

“So pretty. Wish you could see yourself like this.”

Sunghoon adds new marks over the old ones, careful not to lose himself and forget the invisible line drawn by the circumstances of their profession. His sharp fangs bury deep into the supple flesh of his soft thighs, leaving Heeseung’s upper legs and groin stinging. His cock stands proud and ignored, inches from Sunghoon’s face, but Heeseung wouldn’t dream of touching it.

Then he hoists Heeseung’s legs over his shoulders, big hands squeezing and kneading his butt cheeks, and the moment he spreads them apart and buries his face into Heeseung’s most intimate parts pleasure warps everything. Heeseung’s stomach sinks and swoops as Sunghoon’s tongue swipes over his hole, so hot and wet and perfect. Air catches in his windpipe and starts tasting of copper, spirals and squeezes out of him in pathetic whimpers. Spectral colours refract on his retina and draw iridescent shapes in his vision, bright and vivid and alive.

Sunghoon hums against his skin and flattens his tongue, licks a broad stripe from his tailbone to his taint. Seals his lips over Heeseung’s hole and circles it with his nose, teasing him, trying to get him to relax, trying to get him all nice and open so all six of them can build themselves a home in him. He tugs at his rim with his teeth, Heeseung’s legs shaking and threatening to choke him, but Sunghoon’s got him, he’s always got him, firm and safe and grounding.

“Calm down, darling,” he chuckles, taking a hand off his ass to splay it out over Heeseung’s soft tummy. His heart beats so wild Sunghoon feels his aorta pulse beneath his fingers. “I’ve got you.”

Heeseung feels gutted. It had taken him a while to let anybody do this to him, yet something in him still churns and recoils at how dirty it is. How it thaws all the shame and pleasure clogging up his veins.

Sunghoon ducks his head and licks him open again, sucks on his rim and points his tongue to fuck it against his hole until it gives. Heeseung spams, body clenching and unclenching with every thrust.

Spit drips onto his hole messily and then Sunghoon takes his hand from Heeseung’s stomach to slip a finger in alongside his tongue. One knuckle at first, then a second when Heeseung resumes breathing. A third when his breaths turn into staccato moans and his hips start moving against the intrusion on their own accord. The emptiness inside him coils in on itself and withers, and in its place need oscillates into something raw and thick. It lodges itself in his throat, impossible to swallow no matter how hard he tries.

The stubble on Sunghoon’s face speckles his skin red and leaves Heeseung burning, a reminder of this day that he will still be feeling tomorrow. He revels in it, in the way pain and pleasure coalesce into an acidic serum that liquefies his muscles. He’s relaxing, and Sunghoon feels barely any resistance sinking a second finger into him, cold and wet from lube or spit or both. He scissors Heeseung open in gentle movements, avoiding his prostate with learned precision, his only goal preparing him to take something bigger and better.

He adds a third finger and that’s how Heeseung knows it won’t be him who fucks him first, because if Sunghoon was first, he’d like to carve himself a space inside Heeseung when he’s still too tight to take him. He’d force his big cock in achingly, agonisingly slow, licking away the tears springing from Heeseung’s eyes. But he opens him up fully, until Heeseung is panting and hitching and clawing at his shoulder blades and Sunghoon’s fingers are wrinkled and his jaw glistens wet and Heeseung’s hole spasms when he pulls his fingers out.

“Beautiful,” Sunghoon rasps when he slips Heeseung’s legs off his shoulders and stares at the mess he’s made of him.

The arm Heeseung had thrown over his face mussed up his hair now clinging to his damp forehead and his tender lips are parted as he gulps in mouthfuls of musty air. His eyes, his big, pretty, chocolate eyes, blink up at Sunghoon slowly, hazily, flushed chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat pools in the dips of his collarbones and translucent pearls of lust run down his swollen cock in a glistening stream. Heeseung feels ravished under Sunghoon’s relentless stare, nowhere to hide except in the depths of his own desire, and even there his members will meet him, soft and ripe and ready for the taking.

Next to them, Ni-ki finished inside Sunoo and cleans them both up with a wipe. He’s the only one still fully clothed. On Sunoo’s ass, Heeseung makes out the sharp imprint of Ni-ki’s zipper, so he knows that it had hurt. But Sunoo never minds when they get rough with him, because he thinks it unfair for when he likes to get rough with them. That doesn’t happen as much and it’s for the better; the last time Sunoo took charge alongside Jungwon, they had to cancel Jay’s schedule.

Jake is no longer sucking Jay’s cock, instead he’s sprawled out naked on Sunghoon’s alabaster carpet with Jay grinding on top of him, who’s only clad in a thin undershirt and boxers. They’re kissing, but they might as well be wrestling with how they’re constantly switching who’s on top of who. Heeseung thinks this is their way of coping. He isn’t one to judge.

He whines when Sunghoon slips off the bed, leaving him cold and empty and aching for more. Sunghoon throws him an apologetic glance and squeezes his ankle before he turns and takes two steps towards his scrambling friends on the floor. He drags Jay off Jake, only to pull him into a filthy kiss full of teeth and tongue instead. Whether he does it because he wants to or because he’s scared they’ll end up hurting each other, Heeseung doesn’t know. But Jay and Jake mould against him, Sunghoon wrapping one arm around each of them and swapping kisses with them so deep and sensual they forget about their quarrel altogether.

Heeseung hadn’t noticed the way Jungwon lurked at the edge of the mattress, watching the way Sunghoon had taken him apart with his fingers and mouth. Butterflies swarm Heeseung’s tummy at the image of their leader’s marble-cut body; his toned arms and chest, his broad shoulders, his sharp jawline and hard cock that Heeseung is aching for.

“Pretty hyung,” Jungwon murmurs as he takes his seat on the mattress next to Heeseung’s hips. His hand brushes Heeseung’s thigh. “Always so good and patient for us.”

The praise electrifies him. Goosebumps rise on his skin as Jungwon begins to draw featherlight shapes onto his tummy, swirling, nonsensical figures whose intensity ebbs and flows. Heeseung’s soft abs spasm each time he draws them closer to his groin, and Jungwon chuckles at the way Heeseung’s body doesn’t even obey himself, only their leader.

“You’ll keep being patient, right?” Jungwon asks. “You’ll let us tear you apart and make you ours?”

Heeseung swallows. He’d do anything for them. He’d let them play with him like a child plays with its toy until it breaks, regardless of the consequences. Would let them eat him up and dissolve in the acid of their stomachs so he can pulse through their bloodstreams and give them life.

When Heeseung nods, Jungwon looks over to the chair. “Sunoo-hyung. Come here for a moment.”

Sunoo scrambles over, fitting his lean, hour-glass body to Heeseung’s other side. He ducks down to kiss him, wet and deep, and giggles when Heeseung gasps and twitches as he pinches his small nipple, the bright sound like bells ringing at the gates of Heaven. Sunoo moves his plush lips from his mouth to his neck, nosing at the sweat-damp skin and biting down light enough not to leave a permanent mark. Heeseung cants his neck to give him space, hot flushes wracking his body at the smallest sensation.

“You’re cute, hyung,” Sunoo chimes when Heeseung’s hips twitch at a particularly hard twist of his nipple. “So cute I could just eat you.”

“So why don’t you?”

Jungwon. His hand maps the shape of Sunoo’s spine. He curls it into Sunoo’s hair, tugging so Sunoo detaches his mouth from Heeseung’s neck.

Sunoo gets the hint. He smiles sweetly as he slips down Heeseung’s body, but Heeseung recognises the devil laughing maniacally in his eyes.

Sunoo worships every part of them. He’s brash and unapologetic in the way he twines himself into their minds and bodies, fills their empty shells with something that hums and buzzes beneath their skin. Heeseung feels his cells split and multiply whenever Sunoo looks at him, blooming and permeating the air with the scent of lilac-sweet longing. He’s the sun they revolve around on a good day, and the gravity that keeps them from drifting apart on a bad day. Sunoo’s love both stings and soothes; he likes to digs his thorns into their softest parts until they bleed for him.

Heeseung squeezes his eyes together and braces for the worst when he feels hot breath ghosting over the tip of his cock. The first contact with Sunoo’s lips stupefies him, sensing the smirk playing on the younger’s face without being able to see it. Sunoo drags his closed lips up and down Heeseung’s hard length, humming under his breath and letting fear and excitement spike in Heeseung’s belly. He takes his time, lets Jungwon cradle his face as he moves down to mouth on Heeseung’s balls, tongue peeking out to taste the musk of his sweat-slick skin. He rakes his nails over where Heeseung is still red and raw from Sunghoon’s beard until Heeseung shakes.

“Please,” he chokes, thrashing his head when Sunoo keeps his mouth open and licks a broad stripe from his taint all the way up to the tip of his cock. He starts suckling on the head, digging his tongue into the slit so methodically it feels like piercing skin. “More— I need— I—”

Jungwon clicks his tongue. “Hyung. You said you’d be patient.”

Heeseung’s stomach sinks. Words pivot through his brain, but they go overboard and drown before they can reach his throat. All that comes out is a pathetic garbled sound as he fists a hand into the sheets and forces his eyes open so he can commit to memory the image of Sunoo sealing his lips around his cock and sinking down on it. His mouth stretches obscenely over it, wet and hot and perfect. Heeseung sinks into him, pain and pleasure fusing into one feverish sensation that leaves him embroidered in overwhelming need. It’s infernal. None of them knew Hell ‘til they’d first had their cock in Sunoo’s mouth.

The tightness of it strangles him, the rhythmic swallow of Sunoo’s throat milking him of the last coherent thoughts he could still form. When Sunoo starts bobbing his head, tongue pressed tight against the thick vein on the underside of his cock, Heeseung has to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle his moans. The sounds of it are disgusting; Sunoo dribbles spit down his length that squelches every time his lips hit Heeseung’s groin, and he lets Jungwon’s hand on the back of his neck keep him there until he gags and garbles around the slick intrusion. When he pulls off, shiny spit stretches between his mouth and the head of Heeseung’s cock like chewing-gum, breaking off and dropping down onto the coarse hair at the base of Heeseung’s cock.

When he’s not choking himself on Heeseung’s cock, Sunoo kitten-licks the tip and uses his hand to stroke the rest of it, his palm soft and sticky. Heeseung pulses and spills a salty drop and Sunoo laps it all up and goes back in the hopes of more. Squeezes the base of his cock meanly. It makes Heeseung suck in a sharp breath and his legs clamp shut, but they’re being pulled apart again a second after. Sunoo is trembling too and Jungwon’s thumb wipes a stray tear off his cheek. Love and devotion sparkle in his eyes as he pushes Sunoo’s head down again.

Time disintegrates and encases them all in syrup. Somebody cradles his head, kisses his hair, runs his hand over his body that burns so bright Heeseung waits for the storm to carry away his ashes. His name murmured against his lips; Ni-ki, perhaps, who digs his teeth into his bottom lip until the unmistakable taste of iron floods Heeseung’s mouth. He feels it build and build, that tsunami sparked by the seismic shift of their love, but landfall never comes because Sunoo pulls off completely before the wave crashes.

“No— so close, I— hnghh,” Heeseung fusses, but Jungwon shushes him with a hand on his hip.

Then he feels it. The thick, lube-slick head of a cock pressed against his salmon-pink hole.

“Please—”

“Relax for me, hyung,” Jungwon breathes, angling up Heeseung’s legs and pressing a kiss to his bony knee before pushing inside. “Just like that.”

Heeseung’s skin smarts. The sensation guts him, disembowels him, snaps something inside him that sticks out of his body grotesquely and turns him inside out. He bites his wrist and cries. He’s flushed all over and can’t keep his eyes open, can’t think, just pushes back against Jungwon’s girth and lets each centimetre nurture him into completion. Desire anaesthetises him. His thighs shake from it and his tummy keeps twisting and it’s so divine. The apple, finally fed to him crispy slice by slice. Fingers stained red with pomegranate juice, each seed slipped on to his tongue. One after the other. What he’s been gagging for. Touch, and something else.

“I want—” he gasps in a mouthful of air, too shallow, his mind still spinning. Blissed out like this, he babbles without thinking. “—more. I want more.”*

Jungwon tugs on his jaw until Heeseung opens up and he can slip a finger in his mouth. “You’ll get more,” he promises, gasping when Heeseung wraps his legs around his hips so tight he bottoms out completely. “Our lovely eldest, you’ll get everything.”

Jungwon doesn’t start gentle. His thrusts are hard and deep from the beginning, punching the air from Heeseung’s lungs and knocking the bed against the old scratches on the wall, gouging their desire deeper. Jungwon carves himself a space inside Heeseung’s body with every grind, claims him and splays himself on top of him until Heeseung feels small and needy and deliciously, safely trapped. Shockwaves zing through him when Jungwon hits that spot inside him, arching his back and biting down on the finger in his mouth. He’s clutching Jungwon’s arms so tight he’s leaving bruises the shape of his hands. Jungwon fucks him so hard it reverberates.

“Look at them,” he hisses between drags, pulling his wet finger out of Heeseung’s mouth and using it to tilt his head to the side. Heeseung’s eyes flutter open, lashes fanning out over his high cheekbones. “Look at them watching you. Waiting for their turn with you. Wanting to ruin you.”

Heeseung whimpers and forces himself to meet their eyes, one after the other. Still wrapped up in each other their bodies are angled and twisted in curved shapes, raw and open. Ni-ki splayed out naked over the chair with one long leg dangling off the armrest, his tattoos on full display, hiding nothing as he bites his plump lip and strokes his cock to Heeseung’s desperate cries. Jay with his head between Sunoo’s legs, looking at them over the mounts of Sunoo’s chest, Sunoo’s back arched and head angled so far back he’s watching them upside down. Jake in Sunghoon’s lap, arms slung around each other tightly, Sunghoon’s fangs digging into Jake’s pulse point until he breaks away and follows Jake’s gaze to the bed, smirking and fingers wrapping around Jake’s throbbing length.

Desire warps him. Desire warps everything.

“Want you,” Heeseung mumbles under his breath, clinging onto Jungwon’s shoulders and pulling him down into a messy kiss. “Want everyone. Want your come. Please.”

Fireflies swarm through his veins, phosphorescent from his longing. Jungwon groans into Heeseung’s mouth, hips snapping in a brutal pace and forcing Heeseung’s pliant body up and down the mattress. He bites Heeseung’s collarbone, grinds inside him deep and filthy so Heeseung can smell the closeness of his release. He craves it, aches for it, would descend into Tartarus and risk damnation for it.

“You’re so tight. Hyung, gonna fill you up. Gonna get you wet and open for the rest of them.”

The words probe at Heeseung, jab at the wispy membrane of his self-control. Lust balloons inside him, stretches his skin until it fissures, and when Jungwon’s hips stutter and his cock pulses hot and sticky inside him, Heeseung pops and spills himself out all over them. They come together, Jungwon filling him up with chopped jerks of his hips, groaning and mewling against Heeseung’s neck with every spurt, while Heeseung paints their stomachs untouched, milky-white pearls shimmering in the golden hues of the afternoon sun. It leaves Heeseung trembling, heaving, heart growing too big for his chest.

“So good,” Jungwon murmurs, swiping his nose and cheek over Heeseung’s jaw like a cat, riding out their high and letting contentment sluice from his body and ensheath them both. “You’re always so good.”

The praise glows through him and makes him fluoresce. Heeseung’s head spins and he barely registers when Jungwon pulls out, except when he feels himself gape and two dry fingers press against his hole.

“Keep it in,” Jungwon orders, and Heeseung whines and clenches up and lets the feeling of utter humiliation baptise him.

Jay is there next, swapping places with Jungwon so smoothly they might as well be morphing into each other. He leans down to kiss Heeseung, gentle hand scratching the top of his head, mesmerised by the way Heeseung’s raspberry lips tremble. Heeseung can only imagine the mess he looks; delicate features hardened by pleasure and exhaustion, swollen eyes and lips, sweat-damp and flushed skin glowing crimson red. He’s still wearing his cardigan, but Jay pulls it over his head and throws it on the floor in one swift motion, leaving Heeseung bare.

“So,” he asks, “did you have fun without me?”

Heeseung’s voice cracks on the last syllable. “Maybe.”

Jay chuckles, reaching down to line his cock up with Heeseung’s used hole. “It’s only going to get better from here, baby.”

Jay is his longest friend and Heeseung is his only hyung, and though they all love each other the same Heeseung could always tell in Jay’s touches what their connection means to him.

He’s slow and gentle as he probes Heeseung open, an unwavering pressure that splits him in half, breaks open his skull and fills it with cotton. He ducks his head against the dip of Jay’s collarbone and whines. Jay’s arm slips underneath his thin body, pulling him close against his chest, the heat and closeness pacifying him.

Jay didn’t lube himself up and he didn’t need to, because Jungwon’s come makes everything wet and slippery and easy. It squelches around his rim, bubbly and sticky. The thought deranges him.

“I’ll take care of them like you did, hyung,” Jay whispers into his ear when he presses forward, quiet enough only he can hear. “I promise.”

Heeseung draws back and kisses him, eyes softening. Jay’s words puncture his heart, love spilling out and rippling spacetime in concentric waves.

“I know. But you’ll have to let them take care of you, too.”

Jay’s hips buck and he groans at the raw depths of Heeseung’s body swallowing him up. “Like this?”

He bottoms out and Heeseung hisses, crescent-moon shaped nails digging into his back, peeling off dry flakes of olive skin. He’s still so sensitive. It hurts but he wants the pain. Wants everything.

“Yes,” he breathes, to the feeling of Jay’s cock bulging in his stomach and his words alike. “Like this. Or else you’ll drown.”

Jay fucks him then, raw and tight and aching, forcing himself so deep Heeseung feels him in his throat. Slow and steady like the tides, the gravity of it pulling vanilla-sweet sounds from him. Jay calls him pretty, calls him his, and in Heeseung’s tummy love crystallises into something sharp and etching that claws at him from the inside and demands release. Jay breathes loud and heavy into the space between them, capturing Heeseung’s lips into haunting kisses broken only by his own sounds of pleasure. He’s louder than Jungwon, louder than any of them. The kind of person that’s not afraid to let the world hear his love.

When he pulls out all too sudden Heeseung devastates. It feels like cracking, fragmenting, and he starts begging, but Jay only thumbs at his swollen rim and dips his finger in to keep him plugged. “It’s okay, it’s okay, baby, turn over for me.”

Heeseung tries to breathe. Jay lifts his right leg over his left so his hips twist and then he’s on his stomach, face buried in the pillow that smells of laundry detergent and sandalwood shampoo and Sunghoon. He eases when Jay pull his ass up and slips back inside, hips pushing back, mumbling words of thanks, well-raised as he is.

Jay stops being gentle then. His hips start pistoning in and out of Heeseung’s bruised body so ruthlessly Heeseung can do little more than fist his hands into the sheets and pray. In this position, Jay makes him feel everything. Every inch of his pulsing cock stretching his walls, every vein dragging across his rim, every slap of his balls against Heeseung’s ass. He pulls out almost completely only to sheathe himself back inside so deep it bulges out his stomach. Jay’s love tumefies him and Heeseung keens. He hopes his insides stay moulded to the shape of him forever.

When he opens his eyes to blink away the tears threatening to streak his face, Jake kneels above him, lips bitten raw and hair mussed up. His cock pulses in his skeletal hand.

“Hyung,” he whines, need colouring him scarlet red, “hyung, get up. Want your mouth.”

Heeseung moans. He lets Jake drag him up and barely finds the balance to steady himself on trembling arms, threatening to give out any second. But he’s not alone. Jay is there, draping himself over Heeseung’s sweaty back, wrapping his arm around Heeseung’s chest and holding him up for Jake to claim him, too.

Jake taps his cock against Heeseung’s lips, smears it around his jaw and slaps it against his cheek crudely. Heeseung whines, body wracked with Jay’s thrusts, pleasure overcrowding his senses. He wants it now. Jake’s cock. Wants it like he’ll die without it, longing seizing him and nailing him to the cross.

When Jake finally feeds it to him, Heeseung’s mind goes staticky fuzzy. His limbs start floating and muscle memory takes over, tongue lapping at Jake’s cock and suckling at his head. Jake moans above him, little high-pitched gasps that range from E3 to A3, vibrating through his chest and filling the room with his music. It ribbons through Heeseung in discordant notes, spurs him on and tightens his throat to swallow, cockhead tickling the roof of his mouth when he sinks down.

“Heeseung, baby, perfect, just like that,” Jake babbles in English, eyes glued to where he stretches Heeseung’s jaw open, disappears inside him. He threads his hand through Heeseung’s hair and tugs. “Please. Let me— Can I—”

Heeseung hums around him and Jake takes that as a sign to let go.

Jay and Jake stake him from both ends. They find a rhythm, Jake pulling Heeseung’s head flush against his velvety abs every time Jay drills into his ass. Heeseung tries to be as good as he can, twirl his tongue around Jake’s cock and hollow his cheeks and not to let the sweet debasement thwart him. It’s earth-shattering. Mind-numbing. It’s everything Heeseung has been gagging for and then some. Pleasure sprawls through his frontal lobe and he realises he’s hard again, fucked to utter disembodiment.

“Hyung is taking it so well,” Jay grits out between thrusts, spits onto his hole to keep him wet. His hips spasm and Heeseung can tell he’s close, cock pulsing hotly inside him. He tightens up his body and wears Jay’s grunt like a golden medal around his neck. “Shit. Gonna come soon.”

Heeseung’s cock is leaking all over the bed until suddenly there’s a hand on it. Sunoo again, squeezing and tugging him dry, scratching behind his balls and coaxing breathless moans out of him that vibrate deliciously against Jake’s cock.

“Hyung,” he chirps, laying his head flat on the mattress, right underneath where Heeseung’s cock is bouncing with the force of Jay’s thrusts. “I came back to finish what I started.”

Heeseung whimpers. Three’s a crowd, but four’s his god damn funeral.

Sunoo cranes his neck and then his lavish lips fit themselves around his cock and Heeseung can barely wrap his mind around it before he comes apart a second time. All it takes is Sunoo’s velvet tongue digging into his slit and Jay cramming his cock against his prostate before he’s emptying himself into the warm mouth provided for him, thighs shaking and heart galloping so fast it trips over itself.

“Still so tight, fucking hell,” Jay groans while Sunoo drinks it all, then slips away from under him with his lips pressed together firmly.

The bed dips where Jake is digging his knees into the cushions for leverage and somebody’s voice says “Hyung, watch”. But when Heeseung opens his eyes and gazes up along the valleyed line of Jake’s torso, nothing in the world could have prepared him for such depravity.

Sunoo cups Jake’s head and turns it to him, tilts him left and pries open his lips with his tongue. Out comes spilling Heeseung’s release, milky-white and mixed with Sunoo’s spit. It drips from both their chins and onto Jake’s chests, down until it gets caught at the base of his cock that he’s still shallowly fucking in and out of Heeseung’s mouth. Jake moans and twitches and sucks Sunoo’s tongue right into his mouth, breaks them apart only to lap at Sunoo’s chin and feed him back as much as they can save, the two of them swapping come – his come – between their mouths, diluting it in their spit. They swallow it all down with their hands in each other’s hair and foreheads pressed together, filling their lungs with the bitter stench of their breaths.

Somebody curses, somebody else mutters something under their breath, and Heeseung wants to crawl into a hole and die. Wants to let all their sickness eat into his body like maggots and rot him inside out.

It’s too much for everyone. Jake’s hips jerk twice more and then he too is spilling into Heeseung’s mouth with the taste of him on his tongue, forcing his head down so Heeseung has no choice but to take what he’s given. Thick spurt by spurt his come lodges itself in Heeseung’s throat like a fish bone, vast and salty-sweet like the sea.

Then, something hot and sticky floods his insides and he garbles around Jake’s cock still filling up his mouth in small bursts. Jay throbs inside him, adding to whatever’s left of Jungwon’s release coating his walls. Heeseung shudders and coughs when Jake finally pulls out, wiping his chin and making sure their hyung digests it all.

When Jake lets go of his hair, Heeseung’s upper body collapses like a house of cards. His face smushes into the sheets between Jake and Sunoo’s knees, gulping in air, shuddering, mind still in the clouds. Fire rages in his underbelly, in his stomach where Jake’s load swims.

Three down, three to go.

Sunoo places a gentle kiss on his shoulder blade, taps his finger against the mole on the back of his neck and hums. “Did you like that?” he asks. “Now there’s a part of you in us, too.”

Heeseung mewls. None of it feels real. None of it feels like something he deserves. His own inadequacy strangles him. Guilt wrenches the rosary from his head and pulls it tight around his neck.

“But you’re always so shy about it, hyung,” Sunoo chides. “Don’t you understand we want all of you, too?“

He squeezes the back of Heeseung’s head and then he’s gone, and so is Jake with a kiss to the top of his spine. There’s only the feeling of Jay’s softening cock stretching him open and sealing him shut.

“Baby,” Jay rasps, giving a teasing slap to Heeseung’s butt, “I’ll pull out now. Tighten up. Sunghoon-ie is waiting for you.”

He slips out with a hiss and a curse and Heeseung’s body does as it’s told. Won’t risk losing a single drop. Wants them to shower him in their lust and watch him bloom.

Sunghoon crowds up behind him immediately.

“Darling, you still with us?”

Big hands trace the shape of his spine, dipping into the hollow between each vertebra. Those hands could break him in half so easily and he’d beg Sunghoon to mend him back together just so he can do it again. His voice has dropped an octave and Heeseung can taste the arousal in it.

“Mhhhh,” he mumbles, hazy and content, spit dripping from his parted lips and soaking into Sunghoon’s crispy white sheets.

He hears Sunghoon chuckle, deep and rattling. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Heeseung’s body is hoisted up like he weighs nothing. He yelps when Sunghoon drags him back by the ankle until his thighs are spread wide on either side of Sunghoon’s lap, back colliding with Sunghoon’s warm chest. He feels the tip of Sunghoon’s cock press hotly against the small of his back, leaky and ready to burst. Heeseung wants it inside him already. Feels so empty he almost cries.

His head lulls back and gets caught on Sunghoon’s shoulder, so he cants his neck and darts out his tongue to lick at Sunghoon’s prickly jaw. Sunghoon turns his head and captures his lips in a kiss, slow but deep, brushing his tongue along Heeseung’s cupid’s bow and letting Heeseung suckle on his bottom lip like he’s melting a popsicle.

“You’re going to ride me, hyung, okay?” he whispers against Heeseung’s mouth, uses one hand to lift Heeseung’s hips and spread his cheeks apart so he can line up his cock. The other grabs Heeseung’s flaccid cock and squeezes, the elder moaning into him. “And you’ll do it until you’re hard again.”

If this is Sunghoon’s way of showing his love, Heeseung is going to beg him for his torture one day.

His hole is wet and loose, so he just lets gravity work for him. Sunghoon’s mushroom tip pops in with a squelch and barely any resistance. Heeseung sighs against his neck, lets it fill him up and put him into shape. But Sunghoon is so big and he’s so sensitive and even though he’s been fucked twice already the stretch still burns deliciously. Taking the thickest part of him Heeseung’s face contorts and his eyes squeeze shut, sucking air into his lungs through gritted teeth.

“Slowly, sweetheart,” Sunghoon soothes him, nosing at his coral-coloured cheek. “Don’t get greedy just yet.” But he still grabs Heeseung’s hips and helps him sink all the way down.

Heeseung feels so full it atomises him. Doesn’t know how he’s still breathing. Sunghoon’s cock bulges out his stomach even just like this, even just sitting on it, takes up all the empty space between his molecules and perfects him. Gasping, shaking, whining because he wants Sunghoon deeper still, wants him to break into his lungs and choke him with his cock, come out the other side glazed in his sap.

“Doing so well, hyung, just like that. Breathe. You feel amazing.”

Sunghoon’s hands help him rise, up up up until only his tip is left inside him, then down again until his ass are flush with Sunghoon’s thighs. It’s soul-crushing. Life-altering. He thinks he’d do anything for Sunghoon’s cock to keep him full like this forever.

The way Sunghoon holds him is like wrapping your bare fingers around a cracked vase so every tremble of your hand threatens to shatter it and cut the strings of your palms to your heart. Gentle but determined he helps Heeseung find a rhythm, steadies him on shaky legs and tells him how good he’s being, how perfect. His words live in Heeseung’s mind and build a nest there, beetle through him and tingle under his skin, a gentle itch he can’t scratch.

Sunghoon’s cock reaches every spot inside him and when his own twitches back to life it hurts so good he can’t hold back his tears. Pain and pleasure morph into one and oversaturate him, push him to the edge of his own abyss. Desire devours him, eats itself, and sprouts new heads.

“Angel,” Sunghoon whispers in his ear, wipes the teardrops from his cheek with his thumb and slips the wet digit into Heeseung’s mouth. Feeds him his own unbecoming salty-sweet, product of his biblical greed. “You’re just such an angel, aren’t you?”

His hands roam all over Heeseung’s worn out body, from his hips to his ass to the sticky, drying mess of come still clinging to his tummy, to his nipples that he pinches and twists and twirls until they’re all pink, puffy, and swollen. Heeseung’s cock aches between his legs, bounces with the force of his own motion, the sound of skin slapping onto skin echoing through the stuffy room.

Somebody else threads their fingers through his hair and tugs, forcing his body into a pretty arch. Heeseung whines and loses all his rhythm, steadies his hands on Sunghoon’s sweat-slick, hairy thighs, his fangs dug into Heeseung’s delicate neck, forcing venom into him.

“So pretty,” Ni-ki’s deep voice rasps into his ear, traces the shape of his auricle with his tongue. He bites his earlobe and smirks at the little twitch of Heeseung’s hips, tugs at his hair again harsher and revels in the thick glob of precum spilling from his tip and dripping down into the sheets. “Our pretty Heeseungie-hyung, who can never get enough. So full and still aching for more. Came twice and still dripping for us. Shit, can’t wait to fuck you too.”

The words bullet through Heeseung’s heart and leave an exit wound, ribcage splattered in saltpeter and charcoal. Ni-ki disappears and Heeseung tries to move, but the muscles in his thighs burn and fissure until they give out completely and Heeseung collapses, curled into Sunghoon’s lap, heady and breathless and crying silent tears.

“I can’t— Hoon-ah, please, ‘m sorry, please, please—”

Sunghoon shushes him. “Princess. It’s okay. Turn around. Wanna see your pretty face when I fill you up.”

The petname tugs at something deep inside him and he sobs. Lets Sunghoon pull him off his cock, turn him around in his arms and sit him back down on it with their chests pressed together. Sunghoon kisses his raw-bitten lips and the tip of his nose and the tiny mole beneath his eye. Swipes a wet strand of hair from his forehead and kisses the mole there, too.

“Princess,” he calls him again and the butterflies in Heeseung’s belly riot. “Angel.”

“Hnghh— F-fuck me? Please?”

Sunghoon drops his forehead against Heeseung’s chest and lets the twitch of his hips jostle them both. “Hyung… God… you’ll kill us all before you go.”

And he does fuck him, deep and guttural, drags his veiny cock against Heeseung’s walls and bounces him in his lap. Whisks his insides until his body liquefies and then stiffens, scoops him back up and sucks him off his fingers lavishly. Heeseung moans with every jab against his prostate and wonders if he’ll come untouched again like this. Could if Sunghoon fucked him like this long enough, oversensitive and twitching and drilled beyond oblivion.

Sunghoon pulses hot and heavy inside him and his moans twist into dark, chopped groans, ramming his thick cock up into Heeseung’s guts so hard his belly bulges with it. Heeseung claws at his biceps and scratches his nails down his back, head thrown back and spewing words he doesn’t register saying.

“Sunghoon-ah— mhh— please, can’t— ‘s too much, too full— hngh—”

Sunghoon doesn’t slow down. He rabbits his hips hard and splits Heeseung’s cheeks apart with a tight grip so he can bury even the last millimetre of his girth inside his body. “No, darling. Take it— you can take it.”

Somebody else echoes his words and then the wet sounds of one or maybe two or maybe more of his members jerking themselves off to the sight of them, of him, soft and pliant and all theirs, crawl into his ear and unscrew his brain.

Heeseung barely registers it happening. Only realises it once the cock inside him twitches hard and Sunghoon groans, boring his nails into the supple flesh of Heeseung’s ass and adding to the rainbow marks littering his skin. He fills Heeseung’s hole with a third load in sticky-hot spurts, pulls him tight on his lap and grinds it into him raw and deep. Grunts again and smothers the rest of his sounds in Heeseung’s tits. They reach between his ribs and coil around his heart in tiny loops.

They stay like this for a minute, clinging to each other, breathing, blood rushing through their ears. The deafening roar of the ocean like being back in the womb, what a peaceful existence. Heeseung’s cock throbs and aches and he tries to fuck it against Sunghoon’s abs, but then somebody wraps his arms around him from behind and pulls him off of Sunghoon’s lap and he mewls.

“Hyung. Baby. Lay down. Just like that. Don’t cry. I’ll fill you up again.”

Heeseung chokes on his own breath and his eyes blink open, salt crystals gluing his lashes together and making the skin of his cheeks feel all crusty and tight. He makes out the silhouette of somebody sitting on the armchair, legs spread and cock still hard, or maybe hard again, one member perched on each knee, watching. When his vision unblurs, his eyes find Sunghoon’s still kneeling at the foot of the bed, looking only half the mess Heeseung feels. Tacky come coats his entire length, has soaked into the trimmed, black hair at the base of his cock. His chest heaves and he’s dripping sweat and the veins in his arms throb.

Then Ni-ki crawls into his vision and between his legs. He spreads him wide, marvels at the sight of Heeseung blushing and leaking and almost fucked stupid. Almost. Whistles and eats him up with his eyes while Sunghoon slips off the mattress and falls into Jay’s arms, boneless and spent.

Ni-ki is naked now, all lean muscle and toned abs and veins bulging on his forearms. Big, strong hands and an even bigger, angry-red cock. Heeseung fears he’s not going to survive him.

They cursed themselves with him. Cut out the best parts of themselves and Frankensteined him until the monster woke to its own conscience and swore to torment its masters. Ni-ki X-rays them and all their sick, tangled desires, dissects them, distils the darkest parts of them and injects them into himself like somebody possessed. His love is so potent, so profane, an open invitation to be scorched open and scourged and Heeseung thinks take me, take me, take me.

“Ni-ki-yah—”

He takes Heeseung’s legs and throws them over his shoulders, rubs his ankle and bends him half. Fists his own cock and drags it through the sticky mess trickling down Heeseung’s taint.

“You’ll let me use you, right? You’ll be a good hyung and let me take what the others did, right?”

Heeseung never stood a chance.

It doesn’t help that Ni-ki likes it nasty. He makes no secret of what it does to him to see Heeseung like this, bruised and spilling their juices like an overripe peach. He rubs his cock up and down Heeseung’s crack, coats it in the evidence of their desire and thumbs whatever drips from his tip back into him. Asks Heeseung to push and let some of it spill so when he finally breaches muscle and sinks his cock into him, he’s fucking their love back into him. Only the tip though, because he pulls out to do it again, come bubbling and frothing around Heeseung’s gaping hole, the holy seed that he prays will take root inside him and grow.

“Fuck. Hyung. Shit. You’re wet like a girl.”

Heeseung moans and bites the back of his own hand and leaks all over his pearl-streaked tummy, needy and overwhelmed. The humiliation thaws him.

He’s been fucked so loose he barely feels the initial slide of Ni-ki’s cock into him. But being filled again, it smothers the rage inside him, soothes his inner beast until it curls up in a corner and purrs, his desirousness like simmering embers nurtured and cradled in Ni-ki’s fireproof hands.

When Ni-ki starts fucking him in earnest, it’s so shameful. It never hits him quite like when it’s their youngest, how wrong, how crude, how vulgar all of it is. How absolutely necessary. Heeseung’s raised him. Raised them all. Put a piece of himself into all of them and let them use that knowledge to claw him open and ruin him. But he’s going to live inside them forever. When he leaves, the parts that will be ripped out of him are still going to burn vibrant in them, pulse to the rhythm of their fate like a pacemaker.

Ni-ki crowds himself so deep inside him, so close to Heeseung’s heart, moans unabashedly and runs a hand through his hair a million times. Doesn’t lean down to kiss Heeseung but endows him with the view of his flushed chest and abs, black ink tracing his ribcage and red, alluring lips kissing Heeseung’s ass cheek with every thrust. The roll of his hips is divine, so is the view of his face, strained, intense, wanton. Dark eyes spear him open and a fresh wave of desire reverberates through Heeseung’s chest.

“More,” Heeseung begs, making grabby hands at him, making Ni-ki drop one of his legs so he can lean down and press their mouths together, taste the other members’ kisses on Heeseung’s tongue.

“Harder? Hyung, I’ll break you.”

Heeseung thrashes his head and scrapes his nails down Ni-ki’s back, wraps his leg around his waist and uses his heel to pull him deeper.

“More,” he asks, and Ni-ki shakes his head and laughs.

“Unbelievable.”

He’s asked for it, but it still wrecks him when Ni-ki lets go of all his inhibitions. When he starts rabbiting his hips and fucks Heeseung so deep it almost makes him throw up from the sheer force of it. Lifts Heeseung’s hips into his lap so his back arches off the bed and it feels like he’s floating, every last maddening inch of Ni-ki’s cock forced into his tight heat. Heeseung wails and chokes on his own breath and it’s all too much and still not enough and every string in his body is wound so tight he just hurts. Overstimulation turns his brain into smoke, commits arson on every piece of skin Ni-ki gets his hands on and overrides whatever sense of self Heeseung still had left.

Utter gratification, raw and real.

Oxygen is not enough to keep him conscious and Heeseung feels himself starting to drift, stars blinking in his bleary vision, until he realises it’s because Ni-ki’s put a hand around his throat and squeezes. Death acquires a taste and it’s chromatic and sulphuric and leaves him gagging for it. But Ni-ki lets go and Heeseung heaves, gulps in heavy breaths of air that burn in his lungs. Everything sways and spins and then he’s falling, falling into his Ni-ki’s open arms and letting himself be held, firm and unconditional and safe.

He’s full-on sobbing now, snot clogging up his nose and coating his oesophagus, and he barely registers when Sunoo kneels on the bed next to his head and calls his name. His tender hand grips Heeseung’s jaw and pries it open, reaches into Heeseung’s mouth to pull out his useless tongue.

“Hyung,” he purrs. “Just close your eyes.”

Heeseung can’t tell if he does, but next thing he knows is it starts raining hot and wet and sticky on his face. The slick sounds of a palm dragging up and down a cock as well as little high-pitched moans permeate the air, and they don’t stop until Sunoo whimpers and his thighs shake and he collapses back into Jungwon’s cradling arms. Most of his release lands on Heeseung’s jaw and tongue and in his open mouth and he’s so grateful for it, eats it all up eagerly and lets it satiate his relentless hunger. It glazes his throat in hot molasses and burns Sunoo’s name into his larynx.

“So good,” Sunoo pants, slipping off the bed and moulding his body against Jungwon’s. “Hyung, you’re taking it so well.”

The others are watching them, lining the sides of the beds, looming over him and reaching out their hands to touch him. Somebody pats his hair and somebody twists his nipple and somebody strokes his cock and somebody tells him how filthy he looks, crying hard and leaking pathetically, eyes rolled to the back of his head and his whole body streaked in come, both his and theirs. He’s such a mess and Heeseung wants them to keep going, wants them to vivisect him, to excavate all of his secrets and preserve them in a jar in a safe only they know the code to so nobody else can ever know him like they do. How he likes to be touched, to be called, to be taken apart and overthrown and undone. He wants them to decreate him so the only version of him that was ever real dies in their arms before he has to let them go.

“Hyung, you’re so beautiful,” somebody says.

“Baby, we love you so much.”

“So sexy. Angel, just look at you.”

Their voices all blend into one and Heeseung doesn’t know who’s touching him any more, doesn’t know whose name to call so he moans them all. Jungwon, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Ni-ki. His family. His fate. All dousing him in their devotion. Fame is only the second most tempting thing he’s ever tasted.

Ni-ki is still drilling into him, in-and-out and in-and-out like a piston that keeps the machinery of Heeseung’s system going. He kisses Heeseung’s ankle, then drops his leg off his shoulder only to grasp his hips and pull him back down on his cock with every thrust like a fleshlight. Heeseung feels like a rag doll and it’s wonderful, it’s transcendental, it rewrites everything he’s ever known. The whole universe laid open for him to play with and forget, his cosmic chemistry rewired by their love.

He bores his nails into Ni-ki’s back so deep it hurts and slips his tongue into someone’s mouth and his cock jerks in someone’s grip and he thinks Look at me. Look at how well they love me.

His body doesn’t feel real anymore. It metamorphoses, grows six new hearts and a pair of wings, soft belly opening up for them to bite into and drink from. Still, Heeseung begs for it, begs Ni-ki to fill him up and complete him, the last missing piece of his puzzle, utterly made theirs. And Ni-ki gives it to him, groans his name and spills his seed so deep inside him it stays there forever. Heeseung’s fucked too full to feel what Ni-ki adds to the sloppy mess inside him, but he still keens, searing waves of pleasure crashing down on him when Ni-ki just doesn’t stop fucking him, instead hisses through his teeth and musters up all his willpower to keep grinding his cock right against that spot inside Heeseung that has his cock twitching painfully on his stomach.

“Hyung. Hyung,” Ni-ki grits out, splays his hand out over Heeseung’s heart, rekindling it. “Come for us. One last time.”

Heeseung sobs and his body splits clean in half and then he does, like a slave to their words, spills the last pathetic drops of his lust that his body has to offer all over himself and the hand still jerking him mercilessly. Pleasure hot-wires him and his vision whitens out and he thinks he might lose consciousness. But when he blinks his eyes open they’re still there, still above him, touching him, sweet-talking him. Pleasure melts into pain, but Ni-ki and the hand on his cock won’t stop, keep going, milk him dry until he’s choking on his own tears and on the verge of passing out. They distil all his devotion out of him. Overstimulation regurgitates in his throat and makes him whimper.

It hurts. It’s more than he can take. Their love annihilates him. Fills him up and torrents through him, cracks his bones and cleaves his skin until he emerges like a phoenix out of his own ashes. Rebirth. One day he’s going to burst open in glitter and blood and the shimmering rivers of red are going to write their names in the sand.

The hand Heeseung defiled moves from his cock to his mouth and then a finger – Jungwon’s – slips between his lips and feeds him his own debasement, salty and tangy. Jungwon smiles down at him. Ubi tu, ibi ego. All seven of them, conjoined in him.

Satiation hums through Heeseung’s body. He sighs when Ni-ki’s cock slips out of him, tries to clench his hole, but it’s no use. He’s stretched too wide, fucked too hard, left gaping, trembling. Can’t tighten up his body anymore, all limp and feeble and achingly, perfectly raw. But somebody takes something gleaming silver and then he doesn’t have to worry anymore because he’s being plugged up, sealed with all seven of them inside him.

Heeseung feels so used. Claimed. Destroyed and built back up in the shape of their affection. Exhaustion thrums through him and shuts his eyes. Everything is mushy. Weightless. Seconds drag and drip like liquid honey from a comb. Everything is slow and sweet and teetering on the prism edge of reality and dream.

“I think,” he mumbles dazedly, someone’s hand cradling his face, gentle and kind. “I think I love you more than I thought I did.”

And he wonders, briefly wonders if they will find their way back to each other one day. A hope so real he can sink his teeth into it.

Heeseung sleeps and then he wakes. Clad in someone else’s shirt he’s been cleaned but remains plugged, cherishes the pleasant burn. The curtains are wide open, but it’s dark, so dark the bruises on his bare legs appear like singes. He brushes a hand over them, digs his thumb into them and hisses. He’ll catalogue them tomorrow. Take a picture and file it away with the others. Label it with all their names and no date so he’ll always be able to imagine their last time wasn’t so long ago.

“Hyung,” Jake’s gentle voice wafts over to him from the door, pulling him from his thoughts. The door clicks shut and he tiptoes over, taking in Heeseung’s worn out body with glimmering eyes. “Hyung. You really have to get dressed. I’ll help you if you need me to, but... they’re here.”

Outside, unfamiliar voices mutter something. Sounds of boxes being stacked on a rolling cart. Something in Heeseung crumbles.

Five minutes later, the voices are gone and Heeseung is dressed in his members’ clothes, patting into the hallway and passing his empty room without a last goodbye. His last pair of shoes lies by the door and his favourite jacket still hangs on the hook on the wall, phone slipped into its pocket already by someone. He puts both on, heavy-hearted.

“The new place is surely going to be nice,” Sunoo tries to lift the mood, but Heeseung just shrugs.

“Maybe.”

“You’ll call us when you get there?” Sunghoon asks.

“I will.”

“This isn’t the end of the world,” Jay says.

“I’ve been telling myself the same thing.”

“We love you, hyung,” Ni-ki tells him, and Jake adds, “Just like you love us.”

“You’ll carry us with you,” Jungwon says with a smirk on his lips and Heeseung’s cheeks flame red.

They hug him and kiss him and whisper his new name against his lips and it eases some of the anxiety in his belly. For all the bridges he has burned, he knows their love will always light his way ahead. It will heal the fissures in his bones and sprout new life in their marrow.

This is how Heeseung steps into the new chapter of his life. Full of his members in mind, heart, body and soul, confident that he has left behind a piece of himself with each of them, so that the red strings of fate may one day tighten and pull them back together again. Placated by the knowledge that they will connect, no matter what