in my zone

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up. 

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.  

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” 

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders. 

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them. 

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men. 

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed. 

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in. 

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter. 

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers. 

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in. 

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way. 

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick. 

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure. 

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise. 

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree. 

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment. 

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word. 

-

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process. 

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing. 

The other two side-eye him. 

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking. 

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation. 

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you. 

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life. 

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful. 

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue. 

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself. 

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble. 

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in. 

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point. 

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies. 

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink. 

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist. 

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time. 

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week. 

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent. 

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks. 

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken. 

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two. 

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?” 

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand. 

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath. 

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage. 

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends. 

“What now?” you ask. 

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants. 

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers. 

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. 

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble. 

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.” 

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did. 

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before. 

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now. 

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored. 

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings. 

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.” 

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut. 

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong. 

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open. 

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back. 

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want. 

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep. 

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos. 

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak. 

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise. 

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.” 

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant. 

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story. 

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch. 

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. 

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back. 

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward. 

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up. 

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you. 

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying. 

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear, 

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two. 

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper. 

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room. 

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene. 

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum. 

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again. 

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum. 

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway. 

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. 

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table. 

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment. 

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters. 

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work. 

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked. 

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.  

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper. 

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips. 

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger. 

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris. 

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak. 

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines. 

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod. 

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts. 

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment. 

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back. 

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water. 

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups. 

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed. 

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

chris stands up from his seat on the beanbag with a dramatic groan, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and cupping your neck when he passes by. despite how old the house is, the basement is newly renovated and nice. it’s spacious and airy, with plenty of large windows to let the sunlight in. chan and the rest of sigma kappa zeta’s executive board have more or less turned the basement into a movie area for their brotherhood nights, but with the furniture moved out of the way and a king-sized, lime green sheet tacked to the wall, it’s the perfect space for taking pictures. 

you lean your chin up and pucker your lips, tugging on chan’s shirt until he comes back to kiss them. “thank you,” you smile, all but trying to lessen the blow because you’re about to put the eight of them to work. 

“nah, thank you,” chris replies. he cups your cheeks in his palms before leaning in to kiss you again. “you’re a very, very big help when we do this! i couldn’t ask for a better photographer!” 

you’re not so sure that’s true, hyunjin and seungmin both must have some photography buddies in their field of study, but you won’t ever pass up the chance to spend more time with chris. to your own surprise, you even enjoy spending the time with his friends, his brothers, so you really don’t mind doing this for them. 

besides, watching them strip down and pose for your camera isn’t something you’d consider to be a chore. 

sigma kap’s howlin’ holiday hunks: annual male calendar is always a hit at your university. chris has been tabling for it all week, rounding up money for the calendars to donate to their local philanthropy and taking count of how many copies will need to be printed. with the tabling and donations finally finished, it’s time for you to step in to take their pictures.

it’s always a fun time, hearing them come up with ideas for the pictures they want to take, the holidays they want to dress up for. you tap your pen against the table again. even just reading the holidays on your list has you giddy with excitement. 

your eyes shoot up towards the staircase at just the right moment. you can hear someone coming down slowly but surely, and by the sound of the commotion you know exactly who it is. 

“this is bullshit!” jisung shouts. his playfully annoyed voice is muffled behind the gargantuan box he’s holding in his arms. “since when do hot models have to do heavy lifting?”

he misses the last step, barely managing to catch himself before the giant box in his grasp goes tumbling down to the floor. you rush forward to help him, quickly steadying him and putting your hands under the box for support. together, you carry it to one of the tables beside your set up. it’s stuffed to the brim with costumes and trinkets, sunglasses, banners, backdrops, and more. 

“i’m just putting all those muscles to use,” you laugh, and he laughs with you. jisung rummages through the box and immediately lights up when he plucks out a magic wand, gracing you with a shockingly spot-on impersonation of voldemort before accidentally poking himself in the eye with it. when he walks back over to the stairs, he’s holding a hand over his eye. 

before you know it, the eight of them have managed to bring all of the prop boxes downstairs. the basement is echoing with the cacophonous sounds of their laughter and shouts while they set the boxes down around your photo set up, and you have to admit that all the noise is hyping you up. it’s a good thing you’re used to it. 

you helped them out with their calendar last year, so they already know the deal. as soon as chris claps his hands, they’re bustling around the basement again, finding their costumes and picking out their props. you’re just as busy as they are, helping to find shirts and body-stickers and fabric when they can’t. 

when you’re done, you’re sweating. thank goodness you had changbin bring down the water pitchers earlier. 

chris comes up behind you and presses his hands to your shoulders. his thumbs dig into the meat of them, and you roll your neck as he massages you. if you were any less swamped, you’d have him sit down behind you and do that for hours. you know he would jump at the chance to rub your tender, aching muscles with his gentle hands. he kisses the top of your head again. 

“sorry for all the chaos, baby. i need to go get changed, but we’ll clean up after, promise. you deserve a big treat when we’re finished, yeah?” 

a treat sounds wonderful. you can only wonder what he has in mind. 

january 

“how ya want me, boss?” chris asks. 

that’s a funny question if you really think about it. there’s a plethora of answers you could give him, and absolutely none of them are polite to say in front of his friends that are lounging all around the basement area, even if you don’t think they’d mind too much. chris’ body is nothing to scoff at. 

“alright, stud, let’s see.” 

chris has just come out of the side room with felix in tow, makeup applied and ready to have his picture taken. he’s already gloriously shirtless, hip cocked and propped up against a stool he dragged in front of the makeshift green screen. his fingers are twiddling with the plastic new years glasses you picked up for his shoot. you take them from his hands, and chris ducks his head so you can slide the legs of the glasses over his ears. his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the star-shaped glasses have happy new year! printed right on top of them, and you pick at chris’ hair so it won’t get caught in the glittery words. 

“is this- is that it? do i need anything else?” 

you hold up a finger to tell him to wait, and you scurry to the side to pluck something from the top of one the boxes: a neat, brand new bottle of champagne. chris cocks his head at you but dutifully takes the bottle from your hands. 

“we’ll take a few normal ones, but then i want you to shake it up. and like- spray it everywhere. on your abs.” 

he pinkens at that, giggling a little hysterically before turning the bottle over in his hand and reading the label. 

“okay, yeah. i can- yeah, do that, haha!” 

despite what chris might say, his face is made for the camera. he’s a natural at this, posing on his own and diligently listening to the instructions you give him. he turns this way and that, even flexes his arms and back muscles when you ask. everything about his body is perfect to you; he’s so chiseled, so sexy. you want to put your camera down and drop to your knees to kiss his abs, lick your way down to his adonis belt, maybe make your way to his cock. chris takes off the glasses and folds one of the legs down, bringing the other side to his mouth so he can bite the end of it. that’s your last straw, the flash of pearly white teeth, the seductive hint of tongue.

“okay. baby, you’re doing great! last- um, last round. you wanna get the bottle?” 

he plucks at the foil until he unwraps it fully, immediately grabbing the bottle by the neck and placing his thumb over the top of the cork. he bounces up and down.

“i’m scared!” he shouts. his voice is high-pitched and silly. “i’m scared, i’m scared! okay. okay, ready?!”

chris is still making a high-pitched shrieking noise in the back of his throat as he unscrews the cage, and he glances up at you with a maniacal smile on his face when he sees your camera poised and ready. he shakes the bottle once and doesn’t have to bother with pushing his thumb against the cork because it explodes on his own, and the room erupts in eight different sets of hollers. the frothy champagne rockets from the bottle; your camera shutters quickly, making sure to capture every second of chris’ beautiful smile on film. you can distantly hear seungmin and minho fighting for the cork. 

“baby, the money shot!” 

“ha-! oh, shit!” chris doesn’t hesitate before turning the dwindling eruption of champagne onto himself like you asked, coating the ridges of his chiseled chest and abs in the bubbling liquid. he shouts again at the feeling, lips curling in a sexy, smiling snarl that shows his teeth and gums, and you know that’s the one. 

his front’s covered in champagne, torso shining beautifully from the combination of the liquid and the lights beaming down on him. chris is standing a little goofily when you set your camera down and walk to him. he must be turning sticky, and he’s trying not to touch anything. he lights up at your close proximity though, sitting on the stool again as you inch closer. 

“i do okay?” he asks, and you know the look in your eyes gives you away. you want him. “baby, don’t look at me like that.” he taps your chin with his thumb. “don’t look at me like that. you wanting to give my boys a show?” 

“i want to lick you clean,” you whine quietly, pressing your forehead to the side of his head. chris pulls you against him tightly, and you don’t even care if your outfit gets wet. 

your hand moves on autopilot before you can stop it, and his eyes lock onto yours when one of your fingers trails slowly up his v-line to the center of his stomach. it comes away sticky wet. you pop it into your mouth when you’re done, your own eyes lowering when you gaze into chris’. it’s a look that’ll get you fucked and you know it. 

chris barely manages one sensual kiss to your neck before you’re jolting apart as minho loudly interrupts your moment. he laughs gleefully before giving you his best suzy smile. 

“save it, lovebirds~ no sex before i’ve had my picture taken.” 

february 

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was fast asleep. minho’s reclined onto the plethora of heart shaped, pink and red pillows when you get back from checking chris’ name off your list and helping your boyfriend get cleaned up. 

“min-ho-lee!” you sing-song, and he hums but doesn’t open his eyes. 

he looks cute like this, handsome. comfortable in a loose, worn, white t-shirt that shows off his collarbones and a pair of white boxers with hearts on them. it might not be as seductive as some of the other ones on your list, but minho quickly makes you eat your words when he spreads his legs. his thighs are thick and muscular, and they jiggle a little bit when he taps his bare foot on the ground while he patiently waits his turn. 

“oh, hey! i almost forgot. can you help with this?” chris comes up behind you and reaches his hand out, a tube of red lipstick held in it. “lipstick marks would make it even sexier, yeah?” 

you look back and forth from chris to minho. 

“you- you want me to-? one of you can’t do it?” 

chris laughs, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “well, i mean! you’re the boss, boss, haha. you know where everything should go, so…” he trails off. “will you let me put it on you?” 

you nod dazedly and let him tip your chin up with his fingers. he’s done this before, put on your lipstick, so you trust him not to make you look like a fool even if it’s about to be rubbed right off. the lipstick glides smoothly against your lips, and when chris is done applying it, you press them together to spread the color evenly. 

when you look at minho, he’s already looking at you. you swear his eyes glint as you drop to your knees in front of him, but you try not to pay it any mind when you lean forward, stopping at the last second to look up at him in clarification. 

“i don’t bite, jagi. unless you ask me nicely,” he smiles. 

minho hums at the first press of your lips to his thigh. it’s soft underneath your lips, plush yet muscular, a little hairy with peach fuzz, and there’s a bright red kiss mark on his skin when you pull away. the color looks stunning against the tone of his skin, but you don’t believe it for a second when you tell yourself that’s the reason you lean back in to give him more kisses. down his thigh and to his knee, both legs. one arm is curled beneath his head while he watches you press tender kisses to his body. minho’s eyes are heavy-lidded and his breathing is deep when you look up at him, and you can tell by the way he shifts on the pillows that it’s intentional the way his shirt rucks up. a soft, barely there sliver of his lower stomach. you kiss that too, barely registering when minho motions to chris so he can take the tube of lipstick from him. 

his fingers tilt your chin up when you’re done mouthing at his belly, and minho reapplies the lipstick for you so that you can keep going. 

it’s so silent that you swear you could hear a pin drop in the room, all eight pairs of eyes trained on what you’re doing. the only noise you hear is minho’s heavy breathing and the wet smacking of your lips when you lower yourself back over him. from his stomach, you make your way to his hands, kissing the thick, wiry veins that snake up their backs and his muscular arms. your own breath hitches when you finally reach his collarbones, his neck. minho’s skin is so warm and soft against your lips, and he tilts his head back to give you more room. 

“jagi’s gonna make me hard,” he whispers. it’s just for you, and you have to fight the whimper that works its way up your throat. your body is pressed to closely to his that you’re sure you could feel it if he does; you could feel the way his cock throbs in his boxers because of your kisses, if you just move your hand — 

“baby,” chris interrupts lowly. you gasp, and minho slowly blinks one eye open. “the- the corner of his mouth. what about there?”

so you kiss your way up his neck, across his adam’s apple and up his chiseled jaw. minho’s mouth is open when you get to it; he’s panting, but his chin tilts towards you when you nudge the side of his nose with your own. 

it’s like you both hold your breath as your lips press to the corner of his. you wish you could feel the fullness of his beautiful lips, kiss him like you mean it so your lipstick smears across his mouth and his cheeks and his chin, but this will have to do. 

you’re slow to pull away when you’re done, and a beautiful, full, red kiss mark sits pretty on the corner of his mouth. it doesn’t stay that way for long. when minho’s hazy eyes lock onto yours, you use your thumb to smear the lipstick down to his chin. it’s sexy, the only kiss mark on his body that’s smeared messy. 

“s-stay there. my camera,” you stutter. you fumble a little bit with your bearings when you go to stand up, and chris rushes behind you while minho sits up abruptly to steady your legs. he settles back down when chris helps you to your station, and your hands shake when they take hold of your camera. 

march 

“i’m not just going to let you kiss me like that, you know,” changbin huffs, and his eyes gleam when you bend down over him to fiddle with his shirt. “i’m not easy like minho hyung. changbinnie is pure and untouched. i’m not letting you anywhere near my precious pot of gold!” 

“you won’t let me get lucky?” you laugh back, and he huffs again, shaking his head dramatically. 

he’s laying in his signature mermaid pose that you so often see him in. the only difference now is that he’s surrounded by bundles and bundles of fake gold coins and money sign pillows, a rainbow one off to the side. 

you’re not sure how st. patrick’s day could be considered sexy, but here you are, face to face with the handsomest leprechaun you’ve ever seen. the bright green getup is even doing it for you. your fingers unbutton the top three buttons of changbin’s velvety green shirt, pulling the collar to the side to expose more of his hulking chest, and he preens at the attention, letting you adjust his clothes and his stance without fuss. his lips widen from a smirk to a full blown cheeky grin when you reach to undo the fourth button. 

“do you like what you see? if you call me handsome you might get a little lucky.” 

“i thought you were pure and untouched?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow and handing him his fake pipe. changbin is reclined against the pillows now, head resting on both of his arms that are crossed behind it. his biceps bulge in the velvet fabric when he reaches for the pipe, and much to changbin’s visible delight, you can hardly take your eyes off of them. 

“i’m as pure as snow!” that’s a tall tale and you both know it, the stories around campus can corroborate. “i’d only let someone with the best intentions and the kindest heart deflower me!” 

“alright, you sweet, blushing virgin. i guess you can put this body glitter on your chest by yourself then?”

“h-hey, i didn’t say that!” he whines, tugging at your shirt with gentle fingers. you kneel over him just like you did to minho earlier, only this time you’re holding a plastic baggie of golden body glitter. you’ll be washing it out from under your nails for weeks, but that might just be worth it at the prospect of rubbing it all over changbin’s broad, sturdy chest. 

you squeeze some of the glitter gel onto your hands and rub them together before bringing it to his chest. the glitter shimmers beautifully against changbin’s soft, honey toned skin, and he sighs when your hands make contact with it. he’s warm, but you can see his goosebumps raise on his skin due to the chill of the gel. the sweeping motions of your hands quickly turn into kneading when changbin lightly arches his back, and soon enough you’re massaging the bulk of his pecs. his nipples are puffy; they turn hard under the contact of your fingers. you’re pleased to find changbin’s head lolled to the side when you risk a glance up at him. 

“do-” you clear your throat. “do you think that’s enough?” you ask, and changbin’s chin bunches up cutely when he tries to dazedly look down at his glittery, golden chest. you’re still gripping handfuls of his pecs when he does, so you slip them from his open shirt so he can see. “i need- hands. i need to wash my hands.” 

when you come back from doing just that, changbin is a little less hazy and is sitting against the pillows munching on one of the chocolate coins from the pile beside him. he crumples up the foil and tosses it at you. 

“that’s perfect!” you say, picking up your camera once more. changbin looks up at you with wide eyes and chewing cheeks. “lean back just like that and bite one of the coins.” 

it’s just as sexy as you thought it would be. changbin is relaxing against the pillows, his burly, glittery chest on display. his smoking pipe rests on his propped up knee while his other hand holds the fake gold coin to the side of his mouth. he bites it lightly, not enough to tear the foil, and your camera shutters quickly. one eye squints shut in a sultry wink, and you hope he can’t see the way your thighs squeeze together. the growing smirk on his handsome face says otherwise. 

changbin beckons you towards his pile of pillows and gold when you’re done taking his picture, and when you kneel down, he holds a chocolate coin to your lips, opening it while looking at you mischievously. 

“just a little taste,” he smiles, and his grin widens when you slowly bite the chocolate held in his fingers. it melts in your mouth. changbin peels the rest of the gold foil off so he can slip the chocolate into your mouth, but you catch his thumb between your lips before he can retreat. changbin’s eyes snap to your lips, the tip of his thumb caught between them. his eyelids droop when your tongue licks at the pad of his thumb, and he curls it over your bottom teeth before you slip it from your mouth with a pop. 

april

“i’m going to fall asleep,” hyunjin mumbles, and it really looks like he might. he’s laying on the fuzzy moss rug you bought just for his session, eyes blinking slowly as if he’s barely managing to hold on to his awareness. 

you hum. “i bet your pictures would still turn out nice.” hyunjin smiles at that, a cute, toothy thing. he wraps his long arms around himself and knocks his knees together while you putter in circles around him gathering your props. flowers, flowers, and more flowers. real ones, bought from your local market and picked fresh from the side of the road. you’re already guessing you’ll have to rock-paper-scissors battle hyunjin for the red roses and daisies when it’s time to leave. 

he looks comfortable too, soft, clad in an off-white tank top, jeans, and a pair of brown birkenstocks. his dark hair falls in silky wisps around his face. hyunjin’s makeup is dewy and natural; he looks beautiful. 

hyunjin tilts his chin up when you finally stand above him, eyes blinking rapidly when your body casts a shadow over him and blocks the lights. he smiles again, a small one you’ve never seen from him before, and it’s paired with a short, airy laugh. it has you self conscious for a moment; maybe this isn’t a flattering angle? but hwang hyunjin is never cruel. you busy yourselves with the flowers in your hands. the petals are soft.

“what is it?” you ask quietly. 

“ah, it’s nothing. nothing bad! just- you standing in front of the light like that. it looks like you have a halo.”

a surprised giggle bursts from your lips, something giddy and shy and sweet that makes hyunjin’s smile widen. you finally kneel beside him to start working on arranging the flowers for his shoot, and his eyes follow you on your way down. 

“hyunjinnie, are you saying that i look like an angel?” you smile. you bite your lip to try and contain the goofy smile spreading across your face. hyunjin is too radiant, you can’t look at him, so you focus on placing a couple of flowers around his head. they frame him like a crown.

“is that so hard to believe?” 

all you do is hum in response. his voice is genuine and earnest, but you can’t believe he’s calling you an angel when he’s the true seraphim. 

you struggle to reach across him to place a calla lily above his shoulder, and hyunjin takes immediate notice.

“you can sit in my lap if that will help?” another sweet and earnest look tossed your way by hyunjin, and you hardly have to think before you throw your leg over his lap and move to straddle him. you’re honestly glad he suggested it; it does make placing the flowers around him easier, and you can reach his hair better like this as well. hyunjin squints his eyes playfully when you pluck a few petals from a red rose and place them thoughtfully in and around his hair. hyunjin’s elegant hands find their way to your thighs while you work, and try as you might, you can’t suppress the full body shudder it sends through you. you’re settled right over the warmth of his crotch. with how he’s touching you now, you know he wouldn’t mind if you ground your hips down a little bit, if you pushed your ass back until you felt him grow hard underneath you.

it’s hard to focus on your arranging when hyunjin’s fingers dip underneath both legs of your shorts to rub easy circles against your skin. it’s so sinfully distracting that you find yourself rearranging the orchids and tulips around his head several times until you can concentrate enough to find the perfect place for them. 

when the mix of colors and flowers are to your liking, you reach for your camera and adjust the lens accordingly, asking hyunjin if he’s ready to start.

he does everything but physically shake himself from his daze. hyunjin squints his eyes shut to rid himself of the glassy sheen that covers them and bites his plump bottom lip but nods nonetheless. 

with you sitting on his lap like this, the angle is odd. raising yourself onto your knees helps, and you have to stop yourself from swaying when hyunjin’s intense, seductive gaze locks onto the camera. his hands move from the front of your thighs to the back, cupping you right underneath your behind. he squeezes once before slipping his fingers under the legs of your shorts again to feel the warmth of your skin. 

hyunjin knows just how to work the camera; it doesn’t take long before you’re settling yourself back down on his lap again, placing your camera on the rug beside his head. he gasps when your ass makes contact with his steadily hardening cock, and his hands fly to your hips this time. he touches you almost as if he’s desperate.

“can- can you just-? stay right there for a moment, please?” hyunjin asks. his words are nearly whimpered, and you nod your head before placing your hands over his on your hips. “you can’t get up yet! they’re never going to let me live this down if they see!” 

may 

when jisung walks into the room, your jaw drops. he’s definitely not kylo ren; you even look down to double check your list to make sure you didn’t miss a last minute change. 

he’s not anakin skywalker, or din djarin. not even general grievous like he contemplated with you either. 

no, jisung shuffles awkwardly from the side room, skirt bunched up in his hands so he doesn’t trip on the long, maroon fabric. he stands before you half naked, golden cuffs on his arms, a shining, swirl-filled brassiere, two pieces of thick silk that connect to the front and back of a golden belt to create the illusion of a skirt. he pigeon toes the floor in his velvet, green boots. 

“who are you supposed to be, hannie?” changbin questions behind you. 

“may the fourth!” jeongin pipes up. “he’s princess leia! slave leia.”

“isn’t that a little controversial?” comes seungmin’s response. 

jisung’s eyes widen, and you know he’s about to start ranting by the frantic opening and closing of his mouth. when he speaks, his voice is pitched high and loud. 

“no! no, she kills jabba while she’s wearing this! it’s badass. it’s- it’s empowering!” 

jisung plops down onto the giant, red loveseat cushion as if his short argument has physically exhausted him, barely managing to grip the skirt in his hands in time to cover himself before he shows you and his seven frat brothers his unmentionables. 

it’s when he leans back against the pillow that you truly realize just how much honey toned skin you’re seeing from him. it’s not something you’re used to with jisung, he prefers to wear baggy pants and big t-shirts. you’ve seen him shirtless a few times at the pool in the backyard of the frat house, but even so, it’s not like this. when he spreads his legs, the front of the skirt dips completely between the spread of them. his legs are on full display, his hips, his thighs. his pecs are only covered by the two cups of his intricate bra, but the bra serves to define the swell of them even more than they usually are on their own. he’s muscular, mouthwateringly so. you know he hits the gym with chris and changbin frequently, and it shows. you wonder if the golden bangles on his arms are tight at his biceps. 

“han-ah, you forgot this.” 

minho steps around your camera equipment and heads straight to jisung. you’re not sure what he’s holding in his hand until something is clipped to jisung’s collar, and it’s truly a testament of your will that everyone in the room didn’t hear the volume of your gulp. 

now attached to the gold collar around jisung’s neck sits a thick, silver chain.

when minho walks back by you, he grins slyly. “go work your magic.”

jeongin had pulled up some reference pictures of leia in her slave outfit, and you and jisung go off of those for the first half of your shoot. he props himself up on his arms and curls both legs to the side submissively, looking into the camera lens with slightly furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips. the skirt is bunched between his legs, leaving so little to the imagination. his abs clench when he breathes, and they clench again when he lays back down on the pillow. jisung moves onto his side, propping his forehead on a closed fist. you have to try everything in your power to keep your gaze away from his pecs that are now pushing together sinfully in the middle due to the weight of his other arm. 

“can you sit up, jisungie?” 

he doesn’t hesitate, immediately sitting up so that he’s on his knees kneeling. this is bad for you, his eyes are so sweet looking up at you like this, so shimmery and wide. it’s like he can read your mind; he knows exactly what you want from him. you don’t even have to ask jisung if you can take hold of the chain attached to his collar because he hands it to you himself, picking up the tail end and lifting it towards you shyly with both of his hands.

when you take hold of the chain, jisung’s eyes close. he looks beautiful like this, serene and at ease with his throat bared and collared. almost like he’s completely at your mercy. jisung’s eyes are pitch black and star-filled whenever he gazes at you again. not the camera lens, you. your hand moves on its own in response, pulling the chain slightly so that jisung sits up straighter and balances higher on his knees. his mouth drops open; his eyebrows furrow, and you don’t miss the shaking hand that moves to the front of his skirt to cover his cock. 

jisung sways, lightly curling in on himself before he remembers that in order to look at you he needs to sit up straight. 

“oh god,” he whispers, and you pull the chain again.

june 

you’ve seen felix shirtless almost as many times as you’ve seen your boyfriend shirtless, and chris is naked nearly all the time. you can’t complain about either though. 

felix is leaner, his body more cut and angular than chris’, but the difference between the two is fascinating and makes looking at the both of them even more enjoyable. your eyes still roam felix’s body like it’s the first time you’ve seen his freckled chest, his svelte abdomen. 

“hi bubby!” felix calls from his spot in front of the green screen, a happy lilt to his voice when he notices your eyes lingering on his midsection. you answer him back in your own version of his gremlin voice, and his grin widens. felix stands before the screen in a full denim outfit. a belted jean skirt that reaches to his thighs and a jean jacket. 

just a jacket, no shirt underneath. 

his blonde hair is held back from his face with a jagged silver headband, but he leaves a few wisps out to frame his forehead and cheeks.  

felix is clearly the most excited about his shoot. his giddy excitement is palpable. he’s nearly jumping up and down where he stands, holding a pink, purple, and blue striped fanny pack in his grasp and shaking it at you when you walk closer to him. he unzips it when you lean into his side, reaching his little hand inside the fanny pack and showing you the pin-back buttons and enamel pins he’s collected for this occasion. rainbows, sexuality flags, pronoun pins - you name it; felix has a pin for it. 

“they came just in time! i was a bit worried i’d have to get hyunjinnie to help me make some. help me put them on?” 

you help him alright. felix puts one be gay, do crimes! pin on his fanny pack and lets you handle the rest, standing as still as he can and ducking his chin so he can watch you poke the pride pins through his denim jacket and his fanny pack. a rainbow on his shoulder, crash the cis-tem on the pocket near his waist, an enamel pan flag pin on the jacket collar. 

“ah! this one up here! put this one up here on the pocket!” 

he shoves the pin-back button into your hand, and you go to slip the stem through his jacket before the words on the pin register in your brain. 

“‘he/him/hole,’ felix lee, oh my god!” you guffaw, gawking wide-eyed at the plain black pin with comic sans font. felix’s joyous cackle knocks one right out of your mouth too, and the next thing you know he’s pulling you tight against his chest so you can laugh together. his little hands reach behind your back in a hug, swaying you from side to side while he laughs into your shoulder. “that’s crazy! let me- let me put it on you.” 

felix keeps his arms around your back, but he makes a valiant effort to stop the shaking of his shoulders. he purses his lips together and watches your nimble fingers pop the stem through his denim jacket. 

he hisses through his teeth, causing you to jolt in his hold. 

“oh! did i get you? fuck, i’m so sorry, lix! i was really trying to be careful.” you pull the collar of his jacket to the side and rub your hand softly against his pec. there’s no blood that you can see, and you’re about to apologize again before felix butts his forehead against yours. 

“i was just messing with you, bubby. i’m sorry! sorry, i couldn’t help myself. i’m being bad.” 

“felix lee being bad?” you ask, pulling away from him slightly so you can look him in the eyes. “i’ve heard it all now. i was under the impression you were always good.” 

“most of the time i’m good,” felix murmurs, and it's as deep as the sea. you always knew he would be, when you let yourself think about it. you always knew he would be a good, perfect boy for you. for chris. “i can be bad, but i like being good even better. i get more presents that way.” he tongues his cheek, and your eyes follow the movement. 

“what kind of presents?” it’s your turn to whisper. 

“i can’t tell you, bubby. i think my favorite present is too dirty for good boys to say out loud.” 

you want to know. you want to know so badly. 

“s-spell it. spell it then? don’t say it. i can keep a secret.” 

felix’s jumps at the chance, and his grin grows wider as he gently taps his index finger against your chest, right above the collar of your shirt. he looks you in the eyes when his finger starts to move, a slow, curving sweep against your skin. you nod when he’s done, and he moves onto the next letter until he finishes spelling the word with the shape of a small heart. your mouth drops open, ready to let him have the gift he wants so badly. 

c-u-n-t

“hey! hey hey, hurry up! you guys still aren’t done?” seungmin claps, propping his hands on his hips sassily while he waits. 

your moment may have been interrupted, but you can still feel the phantom ghost of naughty little fingers burning into the delicate skin of your chest when you walk back to your camera station. you catch chris’ eyes as you turn. his cheeks are flushed, and you can feel the blush on yours too. your chest burns. 

july 

“you’re not going to make me take my shirt off, are you?” seungmin asks, but he’s grinning. 

“no. you look nice like this!” it’s true. seungmin does look nice, and he still fits his summer theme whether he takes his shirt off or not. he’s standing in front of the green screen sheet in a white tank top and blue swim trunks. he’s got a pink flamingo pool float wrapped around his lithe waist and sunglasses perched on top of his head. the only discrepancy you have is that he’s just a little too… dry. 

seungmin punches the bulbous head of the flamingo and squeezes its beak while you go about setting your camera up again. 

“i feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” he playfully gripes, and maybe he’s joking around, but he’s still right. 

it was chris’ idea, and you’re just trying to keep yourself quiet and busy until your boyfriend appears again to hash out his plan. much to your luck, it doesn’t take long before the back door opens abruptly to show chris standing in the doorway with something behind his back. 

“hey, seungmin!” he calls, maniacal smile right back on his handsome face. “i love you, seungmin!” 

the water hose’s shower setting shoots farther than you thought it would, and seungmin flinches dramatically when the cool water hits his skin. he sputters, shaking his wet hair like a dog before he looks at you in shock. seungmin is cute like this, wide eyed in surprise and dripping wet with water. he shouts and lunges once at chris, and your boyfriend hollers through a laugh and slams the door shut before he can be grabbed. 

“you traitor!” he points a finger at you. he laughs when he says it though, pressing his fingers to his eyes and swiping the water away. 

seungmin’s shirt is sticking obscenely to his torso; your eyes can’t help but roam up and down his lean body, his broad shoulders. he shakes his head again and brings a hand to his his hair to smooth it back from his forehead. you watch a water droplet slide down his nose and force yourself out of your daze. 

“your theme is supposed to be summer, seungminnie! you’re at a pool. you needed to get a little wet!” 

“yeah, yeah, yeah,” he lightheartedly complains. “you owe me. i don’t look like a wet dog, do i?” 

you blink rapidly at him. there’s no way he doesn’t know how good he really looks, right? with his hair pushed back and shirt clinging to his skin, his long legs on display. all of that while gloriously wet? 

“you look hot!” hyunjin whistles from his spot on the couch, and you snap your fingers and point at seungmin in accord. 

when chris braves the basement again, he’s carrying a stack of old towels to set on the floor and soak up what little water collected. he’s also carrying the pack of red, white, and blue popsicles from the upstairs freezer. they’re specifically for seungmin’s shoot, but the hustling and bustling and the heat of working under the lights has everyone gathering around to snatch one. chris hands them out diligently, puttering up to seungmin last with a wide smile and twinkling eyes. 

“i love you, seungmin!” chris simpers again, and seungmin rolls his eyes before raising his fist at him. your boyfriend cackles and makes his way to one of the couches, but not before he offers you one of the last remaining popsicles. you shake him off and insist you’ll grab one later. seungmin watches the interaction with keen eyes, and he unwraps his popsicle before sucking the icy tip into his mouth. you snap a picture right away, something silly and unusable, but he scrunches his nose in a playful growl. 

he’s easy to photograph. seungmin also listens to instructions well and expertly does his own thing. his face is handsome, his thin lips and watchful eyes deserve to be on the cover of magazines. a school wide calendar will just have to do instead. 

the final shot you take is of seungmin’s blue-stained tongue pressed against his steadily melting popsicle, his heavy yet kind eyes pierce right through your lens. it’s a good shot, and you make your way over to him to show him a few of your favorites. he points out his own that he likes and playfully nudges your shoulder when you click to the first photo you took of him with the popsicle. 

what’s left of the popsicle is still melting in his hand, blue rivulets drip slowly down his fingers. 

he offers it to you, raising his eyebrows as if in challenge. you know he doesn’t expect you to actually take the icy popsicle between your lips, but much to his enjoyment, you do. it’s cool and flavorful on your tongue, a much needed treat that immediately chills your throat when you swallow around it. seungmin’s fingers adjust themselves on the stick, and he slips the popsicle further into your mouth. you meet his movements with your own, pressing yourself forward to take all you can until blue is running down your chin.  

“messy thing,” he whispers, and he swipes the melted ice up with his thumb before bringing it to his lips for one last taste. 

august 

“are you sure, innie? i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

you remember chris saying jeongin doesn’t like things touching his neck. it makes him antsy, claustrophobic. you’re willing to scrap the shoot for his comfort, sure that you have enough props collected that you could all find another holiday jeongin could do. 

“it should be okay for just a few minutes! i’m not worried.” 

jeongin hands you his props with a smile, and he ducks his head so you can clip the dog ears to either side of his head, careful not to snag his hair in the berets. they’re fuzzy, blonde with speckles of black and bronze for a more detailed look. one of the ears is even pierced - a cute little bell dangles from the curled tip, and it jingles when jeongin shakes his head happily. 

it leaves all of you cooing over how cute he is. 

the tail comes next, a perfect match to the set of ears he’s wearing. it’s long and fluffy, nearly reaching the backs of his knees. all you have to do is clip it to the back of his jean shorts, and he holds his shirt up to give you more access. you turn him around so that his back faces the others when you’re done. 

“our innie! our innie and his cute tail!” hyunjin wails. 

“spell your name!” felix shouts, and jeongin gets halfway through spelling his name with his butt before he gives up in embarrassment, tail swishing against his skin with each halfhearted movement. 

“be careful, jeongin-ah, they’re going to start asking you to bark soon,” seungmin says, all too used to being treated like a show-dog. 

he waves them off with his signature wheeze laugh and turns back to you dutifully for the last part of his outfit. 

a collar, handcrafted and neat. it’s made of black leather and is held together by a metal heart in the middle. a paw print pendant hangs daintily from the heart. the words that are carved into the pendant make you bite down on the inside of your cheek, and you bring the collar closer to your face to get a better look. 

good dog

jeongin’s eyes haven’t left your face once; you can feel them on you, almost like he’s waiting for your reaction. 

“can i put it on you, jeonginnie?” 

he steps closer to you. it still hasn’t left your mind that jeongin doesn’t like chokers or tight necklaces around his neck, and you don’t want to startle him, so you decide to talk him through what you’re doing. 

“i’m just going to put this around your neck now, okay?” he nods, warm breath hitting your face when he ducks his head slightly. maybe it would be better if he knelt for you, if he got on his knees and waited patiently. if he was naked and hard, if the tail was a plug instead of a clip-on. there’s so many possibilities. 

your hands wrap the collar around his neck gently, bringing your fingers to the back of it so that you can loop one of the ends through the hoop and poke the stem through the first hole. 

“is it too tight? there’s two more holes, this one is the loosest.” 

jeongin licks his lips, and you watch his adam’s apple bob right above the collar. “maybe just a little tighter? you can try the second one.” 

you do what he says, sliding the stem from the first hole and into the second so that the collar pulls slightly tighter around his neck. jeongin’s eyes are closed when you look to him for confirmation, and they roll when he opens them. he gives you a slow nod. 

“hyunjin-ssi, go get kkami’s dog bed,” minho interrupts. jeongin’s props are already set up around him. a water bowl, a pile of tennis balls and other toys, you’ll edit a dog house onto the green screen. but you have to admit, jeongin would look cute in a dog bed. 

“kkami doesn’t have a dog bed! who do you think i am? he sleeps in bed with me because he’s a prince.” 

“jeonginnie wouldn’t fit in a kkami sized bed anyway. who knows someone with a great dane? we need a human sized one!” jisung says. he pulls out his phone like he’s about to look through his contacts, and you bring your hand up to your mouth to hide your snort. 

“well,” you start. “i mean, maybe i know a certain person who has a human sized dog bed.” 

you’re so going to get it later. just go ahead and prepare for it. 

all eyes in the room snap towards chris, wildly different emotions ranging on each of their faces. seungmin looks disturbed, minho looks gleeful, changbin looks innocently confused. 

“hey hey hey, no! nope, ha- haha! nope, i don’t- i don’t have a dog bed. no dog bed here!” his cheeks are pink. he definitely has a dog bed. you fucked him in it not even two weeks ago. 

you’re about to open your mouth when changbin beats you to it. “hyung, why would you have a dog bed? berry lives with your mom…” 

september 

“i feel like i’ve never seen hyung this exposed, and i’ve literally seen him naked,” hyunjin says. 

the both of you are staring just as wide eyed at the two men in front of the green screen. the only thing that brings you out of your stupor is changbin waving his hand in your face. 

you’ve never seen chris like this, minho either. like hyunjin said, you too have seen chris naked, sweating and writhing in the throes of pleasure, but there’s something about the little black dress he’s wearing that’s nearly just as erotic. its silky fabric clings to his thick thighs beautifully, the top of the dress shows the bulk of chris’ pecs and the valley between them. the white socks he’s wearing have lacy ruffles around the ankle. 

the back of the dress nearly takes you out of commission. it’s backless, chris’ beautiful pale skin an exquisite display, leaving the cut of his back and shoulder muscles out for all of your ogling. it closes off right above the swell of his ass, and the tight fabric frames that just as beautifully. 

minho looks just as delectable. his dress isn’t as tight as chris’ but it is as short, with a slit up the side that tells you immediately that he’s not wearing anything underneath. minho’s arm muscles are so defined that you can still see them bulging under the long sleeves of his dress. the biggest difference between the two of them though is that minho is donning a skintight pair of black fishnets and shiny, black, platform heels. he cocks an eyebrow when he sees you staring, but you don’t think he minds that you can’t look away. you don’t think chris minds either.

despite how wide his shoulders are, chris looks much smaller than minho like this. it’s a realization that has your mouth watering.

you come to find out that their chemistry is unrivaled. they play off of each other's actions perfectly, and they’re easy to photograph even when they’re messing around. they’re playful, a little bit sleazy, and the camera loves it. you love it. 

“chris, pull the strap of your dress down. yes! yes, that’s great. that’s hot, oh they’ll love that!” you say, pressing away at the shutter of your camera. chris giggles at your comment before he schools his face into something softer. 

he looks into the lens demurely while he eases the spaghetti strap of his dress down his muscular shoulder, arching his back so that the curve of his ass presses against minho’s front. minho’s veiny hand follows your boyfriend’s and lightly smooths down chris’ shoulder, fingers barely grazing the skin. it’s a movement so soft that you almost feel like you’re interrupting them, an ever willing voyeur to their seductive show. your cunt pulses for what feels like the billionth time today when minho’s hand moves down to grip chris roughly by the hips and yank him, pulling his hips upwards so that chris is forced to stand on the tips of his toes. now that he’s closer to minho’s height, chris’ ass settles snugly against his crotch. 

minho adjusts his leg, tucking his thick thigh against the outside of chris’ hip and setting more of his weight on the toe of his platform heel. the movement has his thigh bulging, and chris’ veiny hand reaches behind the two of them to grab at minho’s ass. 

you can barely register the hooting and hollering from the other boys behind you, too focused on regulating the hitching of your breath and the wetness that must be seeping through your shorts at the erotic sight before you. you want to put your camera down and go to them, you want to touch them, you want them to touch you the way they are each other. you want them to keep their dresses on. 

by the looks on their faces, they’re all too aware. 

how you manage the rest of the session, you’re not sure, and it vaguely feels like you’re walking into a trap when minho beckons you over to them so they can look at the pictures you took. they stand on either side of you and make the appropriate noises whenever you slide to the next picture, but they quiet down when you get to the last one. your favorite one, with chris and minho pressed close together and groping each other’s lovely bodies. merely seeing the shot has you dreaming of crossing your legs for some relief. you can feel minho’s smile against your cheek. 

“jagi likes that one,” he coos, and his hand caresses the dip of your back. “we saw you, you know? clenching your thighs and licking your lips while taking our picture.” chris kisses your neck while minho talks. 

“are you wet, butterfly?” he breathes. you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against the skin of your neck. you nod your head shakily; chan doesn’t like it when you lie. “just a while longer, yeah? then you’ll get a treat. keep being patient. you’re doing so good, okay?” another nod.

you shiver again when minho’s plump lips brush against your ear. “mm, a treat? i wonder what it could be…”

october 

another man, another dress, and you’re still down just as bad. you’re not alone this time though; changbin looks as if his eyes are going to burst out of his head like they do in those wacky cartoons. heart shaped pupils, wagging tongue, and all. 

hyunjin is positively elegant. the black, skin tight dress accentuates the angles of his body beautifully, and paired with the red lipstick and matching nails, he looks haunting, enchanting. the wig doesn’t even make him look silly. it looks natural - long, dark, silky locks cascade like water down his shoulders and back. hyunjin can make nearly anything look expensive. 

changbin looks just as good, sitting handsome in a black and white pinstripe suit. his curly hair is slicked back from his forehead, and above his upper lip sits a thin mustache. his collared shirt dons a checkered bow tie. 

your gomez and morticia. 

thing is there too, and the disembodied hand sits unmoving and upside down in changbin’s lap. 

“hyunjinnie, who made you so pretty?” 

hyunjin sighs at changbin’s attempted pun, but there’s an indulgent smile on his face when he looks down at changbin to see him holding thing to the side of his head as he dances silently to the chorus of his favorite newjeans hit. 

“ahh, that’s right. eomma did make me pretty, mon cherie,” hyunjin laughs back. he takes the hand gingerly from changbin’s grasp and pets it like he would a dog, safe and sound in his arms. 

“are you two done flirting yet?” you ask. your camera is poised and ready to go. maybe you should have taken some sweet, candid photos of them laughing together. 

“ask him,” hyunjin is quick to respond. 

“never! not when my hyunjinnie wants me so badly. i can see it in his eyes.” 

the two of them came to you with their idea of gomez and morticia addams for their october shoot, and you couldn’t have picked a better halloween theme for them. the unconditional love, the steadfast mutual respect, the open sensuality, it fits them down to a tee. 

changbin beckons for you to start your shoot, flexing his shoulders and straightening his spine so that it’s arched against the back of the chair he sits in. hyunjin stands poised and elegant behind him, one hand crossed delicately over the other on changbin’s left shoulder. thing sits unmoving on the right. 

they look powerful like this, and you know when you add the background to their photos - a cobweb covered fireplace mantle with a candelabra on the top, it’ll add a darker, more haunting aura to their already captivating presence. 

changbin’s hand slowly moves across his body so that he can rest it on top of hyunjin’s that are still placed primly on his shoulder. hyunjin doesn’t swat it away like he usually would, no, he instead tilts his chin up and gazes heavily into the camera lens. changbin can hardly suppress the wild grin that’s threatening to split across his handsome face. 

“my darling hyunjinnie loves me~” he coos. “i can’t take it anymore. i want to look at my wife’s beautiful face!” he stands so abruptly from his chair that it almost tips over, and thing falls straight to the floor. changbin dramatically shoves the chair aside and throws his hand out to hyunjin, dipping his head and speaking lowly. “may i have this dance?” 

hyunjin giddily takes changbin’s hand in his own, lifting it in the air so that he can twirl slowly underneath it, and changbin follows the movement easily. he cups hyunjin’s lithe waist now that they’re pressed front to back, lifting hyunjin’s arm to the side with his fingers entwined with hyunjin’s longer ones. 

“get your camera ready,” changbin grins, and that’s the only warning you get before he starts to press kisses down hyunjin’s arm. 

you recognize it immediately, a highly notable move from gomez and morticia’s explosive tango from addam’s family values. your camera shutters as changbin kisses fervently down hyunjin’s arm, raising his head to meet hyunjin’s eyes when he gets to his hand. he cups his fingers in his own and kisses the knuckles gently, lips lingering, then smiles softly as he begins his passionate ascent back up hyunjin’s arm. you can hardly breathe when changbin kisses towards hyunjin’s neck, and he sweeps his long hair to the side so that he can press his lips to the bare skin there. hyunjin throws his head back while changbin begins to kiss down his other arm, and your camera almost falls limp in your hands as you watch ensnared. the sensual, comfortable chemistry has you wondering if there’s something more between them, something deeper than the silly couple’s costume and playful flirting. 

the way changbin touches hyunjin has you aching, the gentle hands, the devoted lips, the watchful eyes. hyunjin seems to enjoy being kissed and fawned over as much as you enjoy watching it happen, and he cups changbin’s neck with the fingers he just kissed, eyes squinting into joyous crescents with the force of his smile. 

the ache spreads, a want so deep you’ll do almost anything to satiate it.

november 

“why the fuck would we be pilgrims when we could be sexy housewives instead?” jisung questions, and you honestly can’t come up with a rebuttal because he’s definitely right. 

he swirls the red wine around in his glass before taking a hesitant sip. despite being in a fraternity, jisung’s never been too much of a drinker. he makes a face as the liquid goes down, but he gives you a thumbs up when he sees your raised eyebrows. 

jisung and felix stand beside you while the other boys move the couch in front of the green screen. you’re trying hard not to let yourself stare at them, but with the two of them this close and on opposite sides of you, it’s proving to be more difficult than you originally thought. they look too good in their robes. 

jisung, donned in something soft and silk. a short, baby pink nightgown with a matching lace robe that he’s pulled down to his elbows. you thought you got used to seeing so much of his beautiful, tanned skin earlier, but what a mistake that was. the straps of his nightgown are narrow, leaving his broad shoulders nearly bare. the garment is so thin that with the waning sunlight dipping through the windows you can see the outline of his small waist, grippable and curvy. 

felix looks just as delectable. a little skimpier than his partner, but still good enough to eat. felix stands beside you in a stark white silk set, teeny-tiny little sleep shorts and a crop top that’s just as tiny. your eyes are immediately drawn to the unending stretches of skin on his beautiful body, his muscular legs, his lean torso, the dip of his back, but the robe is what catches your eye the most. it’s completely mesh, with downy, white feathers on the sleeve ends and the hem. the robe is long enough that it trails the ground when he walks, and you can tell by his attitude that felix is living his best housewife fantasy in it. 

“a little more to the left! like, just a hair. no! towards chris! and yeah, my head would look really stupid in one of those hats,” felix says, taking his own swig of red wine while he supervises the moving of the couch. 

as soon as chris brings his t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face, felix is tugging jisung to the couch and easing down into the corner of it. jisung tucks himself into his side, and they look so nice pressed together like that. 

felix balances his wine glass on the arm of the couch before pulling one of jisung’s legs into his lap. it’s sweet how touchy felix is. the way he plays with the lace ruffle of jisung’s ankle sock, plucks the soft fabric from between his toes until he decides to massage the sole with his little fingers. 

“i’d make you my little housewife if this is what i get to come home to, holy shit!” jisung says. he basks happily in the attention, and felix grins widely at the comment. 

“i would be a good wife! maybe i’d wear this on our wedding night.” felix tongues his cheeks again, just like he did to you earlier. “i’d wear this on our wedding night and let you take it off me piece… by piece… by piece.” 

“are you trying to seduce me?!”

“maybe. is it working?!”  

it’s working on you, for sure. jisung laughs loudly when felix reaches around to squeeze at his ass. 

they fall into poses easily, still giggling and whispering with each other every now and then. you know the pictures are going to turn out great just by the way they’re wrapped around each other, sexy and demure and wanting. you want to join in, set your camera down and run to chris’ room to grab your own naughty negligee that’s hidden in his closet so that you can settle yourself right between them, giggling and gossiping and so tangled in each other's space that it can’t help but progress into sensual touches and needy kisses. you’d be so pretty together. 

“it’s- yeah! yeah, it’s kinda working actually. but i wanna be a rich trophy housewife too! i can- i’m good at house things!” 

god! and what a thought that is. coming home after a long day to your two beautiful wives who are ready to take care of you and be taken care of too. you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. good thing chris would be there to help; he could take care of all three of you, and you would jump through hoops to pleasure him in return. 

“bubby’s thinking something dirty,” felix faux whispers, and you can’t even deny it. the throb of your cunt and the tensing of your thighs would be quick to call you a liar. your hands are sweaty where they hold your camera. 

“are you?” jisung asks quietly. it’s directed at you, but you don’t know if you can say. you don’t know if you should say. “me- me too. i really am too. aish, how much longer? i can’t wait…” 

he can't wait for what? felix doesn’t let you find out. he puts his index finger quickly over jisung’s plump lips and shakes his head wildly, grinning all the while. 

december 

“why can’t jeonginnie sit in my lap?” 

“seungmin kim, silly dog. since when does santa sit in mrs. claus’ lap?” minho asks, and seungmin makes a show of sticking out his tongue. 

“we don’t know what they do in their free time,” seungmin gripes back. 

his grumbling is interrupted by felix setting the plate of chocolate chip cookies and glass of milk on the small cocktail table beside the felt chair jeongin is manspreading in. 

jeongin decided to forgo the bushy, white beard, but there’s no doubt who he’s supposed to be. the red pileus hat sits crookedly on his head, and the velvet red suit he wears is unbuttoned all the way down his front, leaving his chest and abdomen bare for your roaming eyes. a sack of fake presents sits on the floor at his feet, and jeongin fiddles with the hem of seungmin’s skirt while he waits for chris and hyunjin to finish setting up the small christmas tree. 

seungmin swats jeongin’s hand away from his skirt and smooths it down with a sly smile. your mrs. claus is dressed more scantily than usual; candy cane red and white stockings sit halfway up seungmin’s thin thighs, leaving a sliver of bare skin that his skirt doesn’t cover. his velvet dress has three cotton buttons down the chest that lead right into a thick, black belt. his dress is hooded too, rimmed with fluff that’s as white as the snow from the north pole. seungmin’s look is topped off with a pair of round glasses. 

“okay, last round! you guys all worked really hard today, just bear with me for a little bit longer, please! i think all of your pictures are turning out great.” 

a chorus of cheers erupts around the room, and you can’t contain your smile. you’ve had fun today. it’s been a lot of work, and you’re going to need chris to eat you out for at least thirty minutes when he gets you in bed. you’re so pent up from having him and his friends flirt with you all day that it’s the least he can do, but it’s been fun. 

“only because we’ve had the best photographer!” hyunjin calls, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. 

“ok-ok, best for last! seungminnie hyung, let’s get it!” 

you think these are going to be some of your favorite pictures by far. there’s just something so charismatic and special about the two youngest boys and their interactions with each other. seungmin is, surprisingly, an expert at naughty poses, leaning over the back of the chair jeongin sits in and sliding his hands down the younger’s naked front. long, elegant fingers trace ridge after ridge of muscular abdomen until seungmin struts around the chair to prop his foot between jeongin’s legs. 

“holy shit, seungminnie is crazy!” changbin laughs. he’s standing right beside you and watching the babies too. “jeongin-ah, run your hand up his leg!” 

jeongin gives him the stink eye for half a second before he ultimately follows his hyung’s instruction, and changbin nudges your shoulder so excitedly that it nearly sends you careening to the side until he steadies you. jeongin’s hand winds slowly up seungmin’s thigh-high covered leg, but he doesn’t stop there. it keeps going until it’s slipping underneath seungmin’s skirt. changbin hollers beside you, and you’re grinning wildly yourself. seungmin scrunches his nose and readjusts himself so that he’s kneeling on the chair and bracketing jeongin’s legs with his knees. he reaches for a cookie and brings it straight to jeongin’s mouth. 

seungmin angles himself so that he can look over his shoulder at the camera, miming a dramatic, shocked expression while jeongin’s hand gropes his ass under the dress. it’ll be a hit for sure, a silly picture that somehow still manages to be just a little bit sexy. 

when his lap is freed, jeongin snatches his hand out from underneath seungmin’s dress and holds it to his chest like it’s been burned. 

“come help us finish these cookies!” seungmin waves you over while he munches on a cookie and holds the plate in front of you so that you can pick the one you want. “you’ve been so busy today, you must be hungry.” 

“starving,” you reply, and jeongin lets you pick your cookie before he grabs another one himself. he even slides you the last one. 

the cookies are wonderful, gooey and chocolatey and full of love, just how felix likes to make them. the cool glass of milk sits untouched on the cocktail table until jeongin takes it in his hand and brings it to his lips for a sip. seungmin declines his offer when he holds the glass out to him, and that just leaves you. 

“you must be thirsty now too?” he asks, and he smiles shyly when you lean forward on your toes. jeongin holds the glass to your lips and cups his hand underneath your chin, raising the glass as you drink your fill. 

your tongue darts out to lick your lips when you’re done, but you can feel a rivulet of pearly white milk slip down your chin. both boys’ eyes follow it diligently, and you’re about to wipe your chin with your shirt when seungmin beats you to it. his thumb is gentle when it wipes away the excess liquid. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be looking like that again soon~” 

for the life of you, you can’t figure out what he means. 

you may be blindfolded, but you can tell you’re still in the basement. it’s quieter than it has been all day, now solely occupied by just you and your boyfriend. the others meandered upstairs after cleaning up their mess of props with sweet hugs and whispered compliments, leaving you and chris alone for the first time all day.

you couldn’t even wait for chris to get you on the couch before you were begging for his cock, begging for him to make you cum.

your pussy’s so fucking slick that you’re surprised you can feel chris’ knobby fingers on your clit at all, a culmination of the sexual tension you’ve felt throughout the day. he ruts into you desperately, almost like he’s as worked up as you are. it makes you feel sexy, desired, wanted, the carnal way chris’ hips slap against the fat of your ass while he babbles into your ear. 

“such a wet pussy, huh? my butterfly’s wet little cunt…” he grits. 

you cry out in response. “yes! yes, f-fuck ‘s so wet, chris.” 

chris plants his elbows on the floor and cups the back of your head with both hands, taking extra special care so that it doesn't knock the floor with the force of his thrusts. there’s barely any space between your sweaty bodies; chris is pressed against you fully. his slick skin, the frantic thrusting of his hips, his heavy breathing, you can feel it all. 

your legs droop further open on their own accord in order to accommodate his weight. you’re so open, spread underneath him like a feast. your fingers were gripping his curly hair for dear life, but all of the strength in your body has left you. your arms lay on either side of your head while chris works you like a toy. 

“fuck, that’s it. makin’ such a mess, sweetheart. you take me so well, take daddy’s dick so well, oh my gosh,” he grunts again, pressing the words hot into your ruddy cheek. 

his cock hits you deep, carving a place for himself inside you like no one has before. you hear a shrill squeal permeate throughout the room, and it’s not until chris wraps his hand around your throat and the noise tapers off that you realize it was coming from you. 

“yesss, yes! fucking- choke me, pleasepleaseplease,” you wheeze. a tone so gritty and pulled from so deep in your chest that you wouldn’t recognize your own voice if you were in your right mind. his hand is warm on your throat, a steady presence that makes you feel positively weightless while still managing to keep you tethered to earth where you belong. your hand flies from the floor to hold his wrist to keep him there. a slick, wet noise has you biting your lip, but it doesn’t match the rhythm of chris’ hips. god, your pussy’s so wet it doesn’t even make any sense, getting wetter and wetter with your daddy choking you out. 

you can’t unhear it now, even in your sex-crazed state. the blindfold has you tuning deeper into your other senses, and now that your brain has registered another sound, it hones in on it. the noise seems like it gets louder and louder, wetter, more frantic. right at your fingertips. like if you reached your hand out you could touch it. 

“chris?” 

his hand slips from your neck and down to your breasts, fondling the fat of your chest and thumbing at your nipple until your back is arching like a bowstring. he throws his thrusts, sitting up on his knees so that he can fuck slower, hit deeper. 

“you were so fucking good today. so fucking good, baby, so good to me, so helpful ‘n’ sweet. i wanna be good to you too, yeah? wanna- wanna give you everything. everything you could ever want.”

he’s perfect for you. the perfect man, the perfect partner. chris would pluck the stars from the sky and hand them to you if you looked at them a second too long.

the hand not fondling your breast touches you gently on the cheek. he caresses it with his thumb before he brushes against the blindfold.

“gonna take this off, baby, alright? gonna give you your treat now, butterfly, you deserve it.”

is this not your treat? what could he possibly give you more than he already is? more than his big cock filling you just right, more than his sturdy hands that know your body inside and out, more than his beautiful lips that map your skin perfectly. 

when he slips the blindfold from your face, the first thing you notice is that the sun has set completely. the room is blanketed in a warm glow by the fairy lights strung along the walls, a lamp on the table by the couch.

the second thing you notice is jisung, gloriously naked and jerking the tip of his cock in a mean fist. he’s looking right at where chris’ dick spears you open. minho sits beside him on the couch, thick thighs spread wide. his movements aren’t nearly as frantic as jisung’s, but he watches you raptly while he squeezes his balls. 

“just like we talked about, yeah? just like you wanted. like you begged me for.” 

truth be told, you thought he forgot about it, but you should have known better when it comes to your sweet chris. he never forgets the important things. it’s happened more than once, a loose tongue when he gets you fucked out and delirious on his cock, a few lingering looks at frat socials. i want all of you to get off on me, to me, fuck. chris, please! please, wanna be covered in your cum so fucking bad. please, wouldn’t it be s-so fucking hot? i can feel how hard your cock is, f-fuck, daddy must want it too! 

“oh my fucking god!” you cry. it’s like a scene from your wildest dreams. your legs spasm, and chris brings his fingers back to your clit. you nearly squeal again at the attention, and everything is too much at once. his cock, his fingers, his treat. you cum hard, squeezing your legs around chris’ shoulders while he rubs you through your first orgasm. your fingers are curled into fists. 

“god, fuck, fuck. did you just fucking cum?” felix asks, and your head snaps towards his voice. if you were any more coherent you’d make a jab about good boys not saying bad words, but he’s stripping his pretty little cock so nicely for you that you can’t think about anything other than his cum coating your tongue. he rushes forward and drops to his knees beside your head, and you open your mouth without him having to ask. “that’s it. fuck, you want it in your mouth?” 

you crane your neck so that you can lap at his uncut tip. his pre-cum bitter on your tongue, and you can’t get enough. you want it all. 

“please give it to me!” a distressed cry against his leaking piss-slit. “felix, felix please give me all your cum!”

he’s a good boy after all. you knew he would be; it’s solidified as he strokes himself off right into your open mouth and onto your waiting tongue. it’s so warm, lands just where you want it to until chris starts thrusting his hips again like he can’t contain it. felix’s last dribbles of cum ooze onto your chin, and your tongue hangs out of your mouth ridiculously to catch any drop you can. 

felix bends down to kiss your forehead when he’s done, and jeongin kneels on the other side to take his place. 

“innie,” you coo. chris grips your hips and bounces you on his fucking cock. a rag doll. “in- innie, innie. y-you too?”

“me too,” he answers. where chris holds your hips, jeongin’s unoccupied hand rubs at your belly. his hand is shockingly cool to the touch, and it feels so good against your warm skin. “me too, you’re s-so fucking pretty. so pretty on hyung’s cock like that…” 

jeongin’s cute. so sexy and cute, his knees wobble where they’re turning pink against the floor. he does something that sends you reeling though, when he picks up your curled fist and pulls your fingers apart so that you can wrap them around his cock instead. he guides you like that, big hand curled over your own to make sure you keep the rhythm he likes. jeongin likes it fast; he likes when you flick your wrist when you reach the tip of his long cock, and he cums all over your cheeks whenever you ask him to. he takes a moment to catch his breath, eyeing the way his hyung’s cock fucks you open. jeongin goes to wipe his cum away and feed it to you when chris stops him.

“just leave it, innie. my baby likes that.”

fuck, do you ever. 

chris gives you a moment to catch your breath, checking in on you with gentle touches and reassuring words. reminding you of your safeword, reminding you that he loves you. 

the megawatt, excited smile you give him lets him know you’re ready for the others, but chris surprises you by slipping his cock from your cunt and patting your thigh.

“come on, up on your knees, lino-yah likes that.”

you want to move fast, but your body moves slowly, and when you finally turn yourself over, minho is standing above you. his chest is flushed pink, and his cock is big. his cock is so big you may or may not drool over it, but chris chooses that exact moment to sheath himself back inside you. he’s knelt behind you and kissing your shoulders, but he pulls both of your arms behind your back and holds them there. 

“are you ready for me?” minho asks, and you open your mouth in response. “would you look at that.” it’s said through a grin, a devilish grin, and he slaps his cock against your cheek, laughing when you turn your head to reach for it. chris uses his grip around your arms as leverage for his thrusts, and your face bumps messily against minho’s cock. they’re playing with you; you can already tell minho wants you desperate and begging for it. 

“please give me your cum,” you whimper, voice jostling as you’re shunted up and down chris’ cock. “s-spit in my mouth, fuck, fuck, anything! please, please minho?” 

“open your mouth then,” minho growls, and you do just as he says, open your mouth wide. your tongue hangs out of your mouth to show him that you’re ready to catch whatever he decides to give you. “tongue out like a damn dog…” 

his spit hits your cheek before you even register that he tried to spit down into your mouth, and you moan loudly. minho just laughs, using his hand to smear his spit over your face. he aims a little bit better this time, thick wad of spit falling directly onto your tongue. he doesn’t have to tell you to swallow it, you do that obediently on your own and then show him your tongue to prove it. your eyes dart from his handsome face to his hand on his cock; the airy grunts that leave his lips tell you that he won’t last much longer. a fucked out smile spreads on your face when you see him staring at your bouncing tits. 

“what the fuck are you smiling at?” he asks, but it’s said through his own easy smile. his thumb brushes the corner of your eye. “close those beautiful eyes. gonna blow my load on your face, hm? you fucking want that, huh?” 

before you close your eyes, jisung comes stumbling up beside his hyung, and minho shifts to the side to give him more room in front of you. jisung’s hand is frantic on his cock, hips bucking wildly when you flutter your eyes at him before they droop closed like minho asked. 

“fuck, fuckfuckfuck, i’m there too. ‘m so fuckin’ close. can i? f-fuck, baby, baby. h-help, gonna- gonna nut on your pretty face.” 

they cum together, you can feel it when they do. jisung grunts like he’s in pain, draining his balls on your face while minho’s airy sighs fill your ears as he does the same. chris fucks you so hard that their cum seeps down your chin and cheeks and strings down to your chest. your hand shakily moves between your legs to find your aching clit; it’s throbbing at your fingertips, and you rub it frantically until you’re jolting through another orgasm, shivering in chris’ hold until he slows down to give you a break. 

“you’re so fucking pretty when you cum,” jisung marvels. “you’re pretty all the time, but- but really, like really when you cum.” you’ve fucked his filter out of him, sweet rambled words flowing without hesitation. jisung wipes the cum off of your eyelid with a gentle thumb while minho pets your hair. 

“you have to move!” hyunjin cries, desperately making his way towards you. changbin and seungmin are right behind him. you think minho would stand in front of you longer to be a shithead, but jisung pulls him back to the couch to give their friends a chance. 

it’s a sight from your deepest, dirtiest fantasies. three of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen standing above you and jacking their cocks. to your face, to you getting fucked, to each other maybe, all of it. 

hyunjin works his hand over his long, thick cock without taking his eyes off of you, and it’s not until your fingernails dig crescents into your thighs that you realize chris has released your arms. before you can think twice, both of your hands find themselves circling around changbin and seungmin’s cocks. 

“holy fucking shit,” changbin grits through bared teeth. he thrusts his hips forward into your tight grip. much to your amazement, your fingers can barely wrap fully around his fat cock. 

“i told you you owed me earlier,” seungmin says. you vaguely remember that, after chris wet him with the hose during his shoot. “make me cum and we’re even. come on, make me cum. i want to cum on your face too.”

hyunjin is sweating so profusely that it drips onto your face. you wish you had more hands, and it takes a second too long to realize that you have something even better than that: your mouth. your mouth is free, and hyunjin has to clutch onto changbin’s bulky arm when you wrap your lips around his leaking tip. that’s when chris starts to fuck you again, hips rutting harshly against the fat of your ass, and it helps fuck your mouth on hyunjin’s big cock. 

“your mouth!” he cries, eyebrows shooting upwards in beautiful agony. “h-how do you g-get it so- so deep, fuck!” hyunjin’s a mouthful, and you’ve had lots of practice taking mouthfuls with chris. he’s trained you well, making sure you relax your throat and watch your teeth, curl your tongue at the right moments. 

this is hard work. your arms and mouth are tired, but you won’t give up until they give you their cum. you deserve it, you’ve earned it. 

“my baby wants it so bad.” chris finally speaks up, right in your ear, and your pussy pulses in response. “i know, sweetheart, i know. that cunt’s clenchin’ so tight. such a pretty mess for us, yeah?” 

“yes,” hyunjin answers. “yes, fuck, you’re perfect. f-fuck, wait, waitwait- ‘m cumming, oh my-!” 

he lets his cum pool in your mouth before he slips his cock out, jerking himself off through his orgasm. hyunjin completely misses your face, shooting the last of his pearly ropes onto the swell of your bouncing breasts. 

changbin’s moans rise in pitch, and you look into his eyes when he starts to cum in rivulets over your chin and neck. “yes, yes binnie, all over me! my pussy loves that s-so fucking much!” you’re soaking chan underneath you, you can tell. your thighs are soaked, you’re sure the floor is soaked. it’s such a heady feeling, having all of their attention solely on you and taking their cum like a champ. 

seungmin follows shortly after, wrapping your fist in his to help your movements along. your arm is so sore, but you won’t stop until he cums. you owe him after all. 

“that’s it, that’s it, open wide.” you do as he says, and your tongue hangs out of your mouth. you curl it when he starts to cum, moaning happily when his bitter cum seeps into the little cup your tongue has made so you can swallow it all. before you get there though, he brings his fingers to your tongue and swipes his cum up, smearing it across your face. it makes you moan, so overwhelmed by how much cum they’ve given you - just like you wanted, just like you dreamed. 

you close your eyes for only a moment, and when you open them again, chris is standing above you. how you didn’t notice him slipping his cock from your cunt, you have no clue, but all that matters is your handsome boyfriend stripping his cock above your mouth. he holds the back of your head in a strong hand, keeping you in place. like you’d go anywhere. 

“best for last,” you whisper, smiling cheekily and fluttering your clumpy eyelashes at him. cum sticks to your face, chest, and neck obscenely, and you hope he thinks you’re beautiful.  

“that’s fucking right,” he grins back. “my beautiful butterfly. look at me when i cum, yeah? look at me with those eyes. that’s right. that’s right, gonna take daddy’s cum?” you nod. “i love you. thank you, baby, oh my- gosh, stay right there. stay right fucking there…”

he cums with your name on his lips, across your swollen lips and cheeks, but he rides out his orgasm in the warmth of your mouth. you drink him up, swallow his cum and look him in the eyes while you do it, until you feel his cock soften between your lips. you’d hold him like that if you were alone, keep him safe and warm until one of you falls asleep. you’re keen to do it again, but chris kneels down in front of you and kisses his cum from your lips, his friends’ cum. you’re dirty and disgusting, but chris kisses you anyway and slips a hand between your legs while he does it. 

“your turn, baby, come on. one more time for us. everybody’s watching, see? look what you did, baby, you’re perfect. ‘m so proud of you, d’you know that?”

it’ll make him even prouder if you cum on his fingers, and that’s something you can do as easy as breathing.

chan - new years

minho - valentine’s day

changbin - st. patrick’s day

hyunjin - earth day

jisung - may the fourth

felix - pride month

seungmin - summer

jeongin - international dog day

minchan - little black dress day

hyunibini - halloween

jilix - national housewife’s day

LEE MINHO

SEO CHANGBIN

HWANG HYUNJIN

HAN JISUNG

LEE FELIX

KIM SEUNGMIN

YANG JEONGIN

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

Aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter, that is.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus. You can hear the music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He starts as if jolted out of a trance, then starts to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

The room’s dim lightning sets your boyfriend aglow. You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. 

“Always,” you say, brushing a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly you can barely remember what you wanted to ask him. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum, nudging the tip of your nose against his.

“Says you.”

Your lips find his again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity—and a lot of time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to murmur for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing, hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they would rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you whisper. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear. Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes, but happiness looks even better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

chan looks handsome and proud as he lazes on the blanket you’ve laid out. a heart-shaped, brown wicker basket sits to the side filled with finger foods and other snacks, alongside a homemade pitcher of pineapple lemonade. you’ve pulled out all the stops. 

how he can look so smug while his ears burn bright pink is amazing to you. he’s cute. he’s sexy. he’s so chan. you’re going to keep him. 

“show me again, will you?” 

you’re propped up on your palms across from him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his question. chan giggles quietly at you and reaches out to run a strong hand up your naked calf. 

it’s easy to do as you’re asked. you’d tease him a little more if your heart weren’t pounding so hard in your chest and butterflies weren’t fluttering in your belly, but you never can seem to help yourself when it comes to chan. 

your legs part on their own accord, falling open all namby-pamby while you shake your head to move your hair out of your face. the thin, yellow dress you're wearing bunches around your waist to give chan the perfect view of your bare cunt, glistening wet and sweet in the warm sunlight. 

chan sucks a heavy breath through his teeth that makes your stomach swoop, and his knobby fingers walk their way to where you’re petal pink and wanting. 

the first touch of his thumb to your clit has your back bowing. as soon as the touch is there though, it’s gone. chan sucks his thumb into his mouth and hums at your taste, but he’s quick to bring his now slick digit back to your pussy. this time it’s smoother, wetter, and your fingers clench themselves into the blanket below you. 

“look at that,” he breathes. you do, bringing a hand up to pull your dress taut to your skin so that you can see chan rubbing slowly at your puffy clit without interruption. 

“d’you like it?” 

it’s a bit of a silly question, but you want to hear him talk more. 

he was just happy to get out of the studio for a little while and relax with his favorite person, so you know he wasn’t expecting this lovely little surprise. 

“i really, really like it. look at your little clit, oh my gosh. you’re perfect, baby.” 

his voice is quiet, focused solely on touching you so good that your legs threaten to close. he bites his bottom lip to try and contain his smile, but he can’t when he notices how shaky your legs are already. keeping his thumb where it is, chan rolls to the side so he’s closer to your cunt. 

you’re not expecting him to lean in and take a long whiff of where you’re leaking for him, and you try to keep the embarrassed squeal that threatens to leave your lips at bay. 

“christopher!” you cry, and all he does is giggle when you pull the cap off his head and hit him with it. “you’re a freak!” 

“heh. yeah, maybe. ceebs though.” 

the breath gets knocked from your lungs when he leans in again, this time only to lave his tongue around his thumb that’s still rubbing slow circles on your clit. you’re so lucky you chose somewhere private to have your little lunch date, otherwise everyone within walking distance would hear the way you keen for him. 

you lean your weight back on your palm and use your other hand to spread the lips of your pussy for him. he pats your thigh in thanks, shaking his head to bury his mouth deeper in your warmth. 

“that’s- oh, that’s it. suck on it like that, channie, please!” 

not one to tease when he’s just as turned on as you are, chan sucks your clit into his mouth. he sucks rhythmically, batting his tongue against it every now and then so perfectly that it makes your hole clench in desperation. chan turns his head to the side, nose pressed flush against the crease of your thigh, and flicks his tongue against you quickly. 

“mhm?” his question is muffled. your fingers have tangled themselves in his hair; he knows. chan’s breath is hot against your pussy, and you can feel yourself dripping sweat due to the combination of the warm sunlight and the pleasure your man is giving you. 

“mhm,” you whine back. your ass clenches as you raise your hips to try and get closer to his face. his mouth is so good, his lips are so plump and his tongue is so deft that no matter how much he gives you, you can’t get enough. “baby. baby, channie. need- need your cock in me so bad.” 

you sound almost winded, but chan’s just as worked up as you are. his eyes were closed, and he had to blink several times to focus his gaze on your face. 

“right here?” he asks, still pressed flush against your cunt. 

it’s secluded enough. honestly though at this point, it wouldn’t really matter to you. you need him so bad you’d let him have you almost anywhere. 

you answer him by tugging the top of your sundress down so that your tits spill over the thin cotton of the cups. chan looks to your face in awe, grin ever growing. as if in sync, you both reach for your newly exposed nipples at the same time. chan sits up and pinches one of the perky little buds between his fingers while you tweak the other one. 

“you’ve got a little something…” your sentence trails off, but you move your hand away to point at the lower half of his face and draw your finger in a half-assed, messy circle. 

his lips and chin are soaked, wet with you and his own spit. chan just smiles, and his precious dimples appear again. 

“oh really? i wonder what from.” 

he lays you fully on the blanket and smooths down your hair so it doesn’t touch the grass. you swear your heart skips a beat when he gently combs at your hair with his knobby fingers. chan is so thoughtful, so kind all the time that you never fail to remember how blessed you are. 

the taste of you is still strong on his tongue when he leans down to kiss you. chan brackets your body with his, strong arms framing your shoulders while he kisses you deeply and wholly. chan has a profound way of making you feel small and taken care of by how he carries himself, and this is no exception. 

you’re wetting the fabric of his shorts. you can tell by the way you rock against each other while you kiss. thank god his wardrobe still consists of so much black, otherwise you’d have to make him carry the picnic basket in front of him when you leave later. 

“please give me your cock,” you breathe against his lips. 

chan licks teasingly at the swell of your bottom lip but doesn’t wait for further instructions before he tugs his shorts down far enough to free his aching cock and balls. his cock is flushed a deep pink, the head a ruddy purple. 

“yeah? inside? right out here in the open?” 

you tilt your hips up, and chan’s eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths himself slowly inside until he’s settled balls deep. 

“ffffuck, shit,” he hisses. “this fucking pussy.” 

“mmm, your cock,” you echo, and he noses at your hairline.

it doesn’t take long before the echoes of your little wilderness tryst become frantic and loud. chan coaxes wet sounds from your cunt like it’s all he’s good for, bullying his cock inside so deep you swear you feel it in your throat. 

“y’look really pretty in this dress, did’ya know that?” his breathless question has you nodding your head. yes, you know. you wanted to look pretty for him. “good. ‘s good, you’re so pretty. hold- hold it, hold it up, yeah?” 

he wants to see. the skirt of your dress has already been flipped up, but you gather it and hold it closer to your body so chan can watch himself fuck you. you take it a step farther and slip the tiny straps of the top down your arms so you can pull it further down your body. the dress is bunched in the middle of your stomach now, your bouncing tits and sopping cunt free for chan’s eyes to roam. 

his thrusts turn sharp, hard. you know he’s close.

“you’ll cum inside me? you should. i need it inside, okay?” 

chan grunts like he’s in pain, and you moan in response when his top lip curls in a snarl. your hands map his broad back underneath the cotton of his t-shirt, reveling in how slick and warm his skin is from the sun and exertion. 

“how much?”

“all of it! i need- need it all inside! ‘til i’m dripping, please!” you wail. chan presses sloppy kisses to your heaving chest as his hand snakes down to roughly rub at your clit. it’s like an electric shock, and you wrap your arms and legs around his sturdy body to keep yourself tethered to earth. tethered to him. 

chan’s cock throbs. his balls ache. you want him to stuff you full of his cum right here, and he wants to give it to you. 

“alright, alright- don’t- fuck! fuck, keep clenching. gonna cum for you then. you gonna take it? just like you wanted, yeah?” 

chan rocks forward sharply and stills flush against the heat of your cunt. his balls are so heavy, and they ache to empty themselves inside your warmth. chan cums in ropes inside just as you asked, groaning against the clammy skin of your chest.

“baby come on, come on. do it, i can feel you clenching. you want it so bad, baby. there. there, oh that’s it, huh? come for me, sweetheart.” 

you shudder underneath him as you cum on his cock and his fingers, and chan settles more of his body weight on you just like he knows you crave after an intense orgasm. he smooths his fingers over your throbbing clit until you kick your foot lightly at his ass to let him know you’re done. 

chan slowly lifts himself up and sits back on his heels. the trees around you block most of the sunlight now, but you have to shade your eyes so you can see what your boyfriend is up to. his softened cock slips from your cunt. 

“push it out, sweetheart.”