#mxmxm

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Exhaustion clung to Taehyung in a way that made everything look strangely unreal, three states’ worth of highway later. His shoulders were incredibly stiff, and his eyes were dry by the time they pulled up next to the apartment complex. With his bones feeling like they had been replaced with dust, he stepped out of the car to take in his new home for the time being. 

The sun in California seemed brighter than it did in Utah, reflecting off every one of the large apartment windows. The glare washed the building in a pale, expensive sheen that made Taehyung hesitate to take another step. Luxury cars lined the sidewalk, putting the old family car to shame. 

This apartment building didn’t look like typical student housing. Taehyung didn’t know what he expected, but it surely wasn’t this. It looked like a really nice hotel. Probably the nicest-looking hotel he might find back home. A place only meant for rich businessmen who wore overpriced suits and had a collection of expensive watches. 

“Are you sure this is the address?” His mom stood beside him and shut the passenger door, squinting up at the building.

Taehyung looked down at the email pulled up on his phone for what had to be the fifth time in the last hour. At this point, he knew the address and unit number by heart. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he assured her, brushing his brown hair from his sweaty forehead. 

His dad gave a low hum before popping the trunk open. Taehyung knew his parents well enough to understand all the things they weren’t saying. It’s nice, suspiciously nice. How did you come across this rental, again? He had already explained it before. The apartment had popped up on an online student housing forum when he was desperately searching for something affordable. 

The listing seemed almost too good to be true, but after a string of expensive and cramped options, it stood out. Taehyung slipped his phone into his pants pocket and made his way toward the back of the car, because if he kept standing in awe and didn’t move his belongings fast enough, his parents might force him to come back home.

Taehyung grabbed the handle of one of his suitcases while his father lifted a box labeled “BATHROOM” in his mother’s neat block handwriting. Another box sat beside it, filled with desk supplies and other miscellaneous items his mom had packed for him despite his insisting he didn’t need them.

“I thought you said this place was affordable.” His mother approached him from behind, grabbing the box before he could try to carry it himself.

“It is,” Taehyung said weakly, grabbing another suitcase and a large duffel from the trunk.

She gave him a look.

The ad stated it was extremely affordable compared to California’s average rent. When Taehyung first discovered the listing and showed it to his parents, they were already talking themselves into circles over tuition, meal plans, and textbooks. How could it have been possible that living off-campus with only one roommate was still more affordable than a dorm? He had stopped understanding the math; he was just relieved when they’d finally said yes.

His dad closed the trunk with a careful thud. “Then let’s get your stuff inside before the landlord changes his mind.”

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” his mom joked. 

Taehyung said nothing. The fact that both of them kept saying versions of that all morning meant they were, in fact, not joking. 

It hit him then that this was it. 

Not the drive. Not the acceptance letter pinned to the refrigerator back home. Not the weeks of shopping for extra sheets and laundry detergent and the perfect reading pillow his mom swore he’d thank her for later. It was this moment right here: standing in front of the apartment with his life divided into suitcases and boxes, while his parents tried not to look too emotional and guilt him back into the car. 

He should’ve felt excited. Maybe a normal eighteen-year-old would have. A fresh start in California, attending the university of his dreams after working so hard in school to be awarded several scholarships. All so his parents could comfortably send him away without breaking the bank, without affecting the livelihoods of the rest of his family.

All Taehyung could think about now was how far away his family and Utah suddenly were. 

His mom touched his arm gently. “Are you okay?”

Taehyung nodded too quickly. “Yeah.”

She looked at him for a second longer, like she knew that his answer was mostly habit, then smiled in that careful way parents do when they see right through their children.

They made their way toward the main entrance of the complex, where a man greeted them and held the door open. Stepping into the lobby only made things worse for Taehyung, as he knew his parents had only grown more suspicious. The floors were polished, noticeably so, and the brown-haired teen instinctively glanced down at his sneakers, which had accumulated dust and dirt from rest stops and gas stations. 

There was the unmistakable smell of citrusy furniture polish, the air conditioner wafting the scent throughout the entryway. There was a sitting area to the side with ornate wooden chairs that seemed more decorative than practical. A wall of small silver mailboxes lined the far wall, and next to it was a small desk intended for another employee of the building. This apartment building didn’t look any less luxurious. 

His father let out another one of his skeptical hums. 

His mother lowered her voice, though there was no one around to overhear. “Are you sure there wasn’t some sort of mistake?”

Taehyung wanted to laugh, mostly because that would have been easier than admitting their suspicions were valid.   

Pushing past his parents, he led them towards the elevator and pressed the floor number. The ride up was cramped with luggage and heavy silence. Taehyung stood wedged in one corner, both hands curled around the handles of his suitcases and a heavy duffle weighing on his shoulder. His mother shifted on her feet anxiously, while his father stared at the glowing ascending numbers and tried hard not to comment on the absurdity again.

When the elevator doors finally slid open, Taehyung stepped out first with a heavy exhale. He ignored the awkwardness and eagerly walked down the hallway, checking each unit number until he found the one that was his. 

Here.

He stopped in front of a tall, dark wooden door with numbers “407” in silver, noting that even the front door to his new place was perfect. Taehyung put down one of his suitcases and reached for the knob before remembering he didn’t have a key yet. Right, duh. That would require meeting the roommate. The stranger whose profile picture for his email was just them in sunglasses, smoking a joint with a red solo cup in his hand. 

“Should we knock?” His mom asked.

“Let me message him and see if he’s even home.”

Taehyung was about to fish in his pocket for the phone, but the door opened before he could. He barely had the chance to register the sudden movement and a voice saying, “Oh my God, finally,” with such easy warmth. But he only needed a moment for the rest of him to catch up.

Park Jimin looked nothing like the kind of roommate Taehyung would have imagined for himself.

He was pretty. There was no better word to describe him, and Taehyung’s brain latched onto it before he could stop himself. Pretty in a way that was delicate and almost feminine, his cheeks soft and round with a sharp, narrow jawline. He had ash blonde hair that was longer than a typical boy’s haircut, carefully styled to shape his face. Excitement shone in his brown almond eyes, his smile bright and warm.

“You made it,” Jimin said, almost bouncing where he stood before visibly reining himself in. “Hi, I’m Jimin.”

Taehyung adjusted the strap on his duffel bag, desperate to get inside and put it down. “Hello,” he shyly greeted his enthusiastic roommate.

He stuck his hand out for a handshake, only for Jimin to bypass it completely and pull him into a quick, friendly hug. It happened so fast that Taehyung didn’t have time to brace for it, much less return it properly. Jimin stepped back but kept a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Kim Taehyung, right? It is so great to see you in person finally,” the blonde said, brushing his thumb in slow circles as he spoke. “I’ve been dying to meet you.”

Taehyung let out an awkward little chuckle. He wasn’t used to being greeted with so much affection from a stranger. But there was something unexpectedly nice about how effortless Jimin made it look, how little shame or self-consciousness seemed to live anywhere in him. It was like he had never learned to shrink any part of himself to appease others. Taehyung didn’t really understand why this pleased him, only that it did.  

Even his outfit seemed to reflect that same easy certainty. He wore pressed khakis, bright white house slippers, and a cream sweater vest over a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. It was preppy in a polished, expensive way, like he had stepped out of a catalog for rich college kids and somehow made it look effortless. Taehyung was suddenly aware of how underdressed and road-worn he looked standing next to him. 

Jimin stepped back and invited everyone in, reaching for the suitcase Taehyung had placed on the ground before he could be stopped.

Taehyung had only received pictures of what the bedroom looked like; Jimin hadn’t shown him the rest of the place. He walked into a wide, open living space with tall windows and tan hardwood floors. The place was already fully furnished with lightly used, if not new, furniture. 

A sleek white couch sat across from a large flat-screen mounted on a cream-colored wall, just above a stone mantel with an electric fireplace. The living room was decorated as if they had walked straight into a realtor’s showing; it was too perfect and aesthetically pleasing for Taehyung’s parents to believe someone was actually living here. 

“Sorry if it’s a little messy,” Jimin apologized, though it was almost comical, given how awestruck his new arrivals were. “I haven’t had the chance to clean. I had a couple of friends stay over last night.”

Taheyung looked around the apartment again, thoroughly confused by the apology. The place looked immaculate to him. If this was Jimin’s idea of messy, he suddenly understood that they had very different standards of cleanliness.

He noticed his mother’s expression, her smile friendly, but Taehyung knew that look just from her slightly narrowed eyes. It was the one she used when she was trying very hard to be polite to someone she’d already decided she didn’t like. He just hoped she wouldn’t say anything that made Jimin uncomfortable.

“So,” she said, glancing around the apartment before settling her attention back on Jimin, “does that happen often?”

Jimin tilted his head in confusion. “Hm?”

“Friends staying over,” she clarified. “Is there usually a lot of people coming and going?”

Taehyung felt his stomach drop. 

“Mom,” he said quietly, wincing with embarrassment. “Please stop.”

“What? I’m just asking a question.” She looked at him with feigned innocence. “I want to make sure you’ll be able to focus on your studies.”

Taehyung knew it came from a good place. His mother loved hard and worried harder. But sometimes it felt like she didn’t know how to care about her children without hovering.  

 And to Taehyung’s surprise, Jimin started to laugh. He had the kind of smile that reached his eyes. They crinkled and turned upward, forming crescent moons and making it look like his eyes were fully closed. He must’ve been able to read Taehyung’s mom perfectly, finding the situation more endearing than uncomfortable. 

“Not at all, Mrs. Kim,” he said readily. “I do tend to make a lot of friends, but don’t worry. It’s not like I’m trying to run a frat house and host parties every night.”

From behind both Taehyung and his mom, his dad gave a short, amused grunt, but anyone who knew him could tell it was meant to hide his scoff. Taehyung chose not to look at him, not wanting to see the distrust on his face. And unfortunately, he was right to feel that way. From what little he does know about the teen, Jimin loves to party.

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” he said, trying to smooth over this awkward silence. “I’ll just keep to myself when Jimin has friends over. I wouldn’t want to bother anyone, so I can just stay out of his way.”

Jimin looks over at Taehyung, his smile softening from its wider grin, registering what the other had said. 

“No, don’t say that,” he said, like the statement genuinely bothered him. “I want my friends to be your friends too.”

Taehyung let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “No, it’s okay. I’m not really…” He trailed off, glancing away for a second before finishing more quietly, “I don’t always do great with people.”

His mother, of course, chose that exact moment to jump in.

“Our baby boy’s shy,” she said, her voice warm with affection, but Taehyung found it sickly sweet. 

Heat crept up the back of his neck. “Mom!”

Jimin laughed again, never once sounding teasing. “Oh, please. You’ll be fine,” he said, waving their concerns off like they didn’t mean much. “A good-looking guy like you will fit right in.”

Taehyung’s whole body seemed to go warm all at once. He ducked his head, suddenly interested in adjusting the strap of his duffel bag as he tried to hide his shy smile. Jimin had said it so casually, it was as if affection and compliments were as natural to him as breathing. He admired the teen’s confidence and charm, but being on the receiving end made him feel awkward in a way he could not quite explain. 

“Come on,” Jimin chirped as he reached for the brunette’s free hand and wrapped his fingers around his wrist gently. “Let me show you to your new room.”

Besides the sudden physical contact, Taehyung was ready to move. He readjusted his grip on the handle of his luggage and allowed himself to be dragged through the apartment. His parents made sure to stay close behind the boys. 

“The bathroom’s right here,” the blonde said, pushing open a door off the hallway. 

Taehyung only caught a quick glimpse as he passed by, taking in the bright lighting and the marble double vanity. His dad stopped following them and peered inside, his mouth flattening into a slight frown. Taehyung knew that look too: a mix of annoyance and jealousy. 

“This one is my room,” Jimin tapped on a large dark wooden door, then took a couple of steps across the hall and pushed open another door. “And this one’s yours.”

Taehyung stepped inside, and any remaining tension inside him eased. He felt relieved and a little excited that the room Jimin promised was actually real. The room was bigger than the one he’d had back home, still simple and bare, waiting for someone to make it theirs. 

A full-size bed sat in the middle of the room with the headboard against the back wall. An empty desk and chair were already set up by the large window, with a view of the city streets below. On the opposite side of the room was a walk-in closet without a door. Though it wasn’t too large, he knew he would never be able to fill it.

“Well?” Jimin asked, lingering in the doorway with one hand braced against the frame. 

“No, it’s great,” Taehyung said, managing a small smile. “It’s definitely better than a dorm.”

His mother walked toward the desk and carefully set the box she was carrying down. She scanned the room with the same measuring look she’d had since arriving. Jimin pushed off the doorframe and came further inside. He helped Taehyung put all of his bags onto the bed. 

“I hope you like the mattress and furniture,” he said, taking a seat on the bed and bouncing playfully. “I didn’t spend too much time shopping around because I wanted to make sure you had them before moving in.”

“You bought this for my son?” Taehyung’s mother questioned incredulously, eyeing the teenager. “Taehyung said it just came with the apartment?”

That’s because that’s what Jimin told him. He originally said he had an apartment with a room available, already prepped for student housing. The blonde insisted Taehyung didn’t need to worry about it, and the brown-haired teen didn’t think to ask more questions.

Jimin spun to face her, his smile beaming. “Technically, yes. A bed and a desk are essential, so I didn’t mind buying them for Taehyung. I didn’t want him to worry about moving large furniture just to live with me. I’m also willing to replace them if he doesn’t like them; it’s not a big deal.”

That earned a small hum of fake approval from Taehyung’s mother as she turned her attention back to the box. Taehyung let out a breath. He understood his parents’ doubts and worries, but he wished his parents trusted him more. 

Taehyung himself was a giant ball of anxiety; why would he agree to any of this if he hadn’t done his own research on Jimin and the listing’s legitimacy? He’d checked whatever publicly available records he could find about the apartment and saw that the unit was owned by someone who shared Jimin’s last name. He even stalked Jimin’s social media to confirm he was, in fact, a real college freshman and not a creep.

Jimin began helping Taehyung open his duffel and asked permission to unpack it. The teen nods timidly, fighting a grin from spreading across his face. Taehyung’s mom started opening the box she brought in, pulling out desk organizers and picture frames. 

“So,” she said, attempting to sound careful and nonchalant again, “how exactly does an apartment like this have rent so cheap? I mean, Taehyung said it was very reasonable for this area.”

Taehyung briefly closed his eyes for half a second to conceal his eye roll. 

“Mom.”

But Jimin didn’t seem bothered. If anything, he looked amused, like he’d been expecting it. 

“That’s because my dad owns the unit,” he said. “I told Taehyung too, but he has a few properties here in SoCal.”

Taehyung’s mother paused with one of her son’s sketchbooks halfway out of the box. “He owns it?”

“Mhm.” Jimin casually walked over to the closet and opened a dresser drawer, dropping an armful of socks inside. “He offered to let me stay here while I’m in school, and all I asked for was a roommate.”

The blonde looked up and grinned at Taehyung, causing the eighteen-year-old to turn away and avoid eye contact. He leaned over his luggage, separating his clothes and trying so hard to act normal. Not only was Jimin acting incredibly friendly and comfortable with him, but he was handling his clothes as if they’d known each other longer than ten minutes.

“And the rent?” his mother continued to question.

Jimin shrugged. “He doesn’t really care what I charge for the extra room, as long as I’m learning ‘financial responsibility’ or whatever. I don’t really care about making money; I have enough of it.” He chuckled, not noticing that Taehyung’s mom wasn’t amused. 

“I could’ve lived alone, but that sounded kind of depressing. What’s the point of living alone in a place this big? Plus, if I’m going to go to college, I want the full experience. Having a roommate was important to me, and I’m glad it’s Taehyung.”

“Why is that?” 

“He seems sweet, quiet, trustworthy…” Jimin answered his new roommate’s mother, gaze falling onto a crimson Taehyung. “...and he’s easy on the eyes, so I’d say this living arrangement works out for both of us.”

Taehyung’s mother laughed uncomfortably. Even though Jimin was just teasing and being nice, Taehyung thought his mom was taking him too seriously. Because of where they come from, he hoped his mom wouldn’t say anything to offend the blonde.

A second later, and impeccably timed, Taehyung’s dad appeared in the doorway. He knocked on the wooden frame to get their attention. He looked between the three of them, then settled his eyes on his wife.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“About what?” she asked warily.

“Just…can you come with me? I need help getting the rest of our son’s things from the car.”

She hesitated, clearly not thrilled by the idea of leaving her baby alone in the room just yet. Taehyung could see it in the way her fingers lingered on the lip of the cardboard box.

“I’ll be right back, sweetie,” she told him, like he was a child who needed reassurance.

“Take your time,” Jimin said with a pleasant, innocent voice. 

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San sat on his couch, eyes fixated on the television. He wasn't watching a show. No, nothing like that. He was staring at the clock on the resting screen. He watched as each second passed. His elbows on his knees, his chin rested in his hands.

It was about time for them to show up. He had made this appointment about a month ago because he was too busy with his inauguration into his father's company to do it any sooner. He was to be appointed as the CEO of one of the subsidiaries under his father's conglomerate. It wasn't what he would have chosen for himself, but it was his father's wish. And who was he to oppose his father? He let him do whatever he wanted, like spend 4,000 dollars on one night with two men he found on the internet. 

These weren't any men, though. They were from a high-end outcall agency. Clientele had to be pre-approved before they could even look at what the agency had to offer. This was easy for San; all he had to do was shoot them an email with his professional address. He was given access within the hour. He wasn't too sure who to choose; there were plenty of gorgeous men who fit his type. That would most likely please him. But there were two that really piqued his interest. 

He flat-out gasped when he first saw Yeosang's page. He was elegant, a gorgeous sight. All of his pictures were fairly normal, nothing especially lewd about them, like most economy sites had. It looked like they were taken straight from his personal Instagram. Obviously, that wasn't the case, as evidenced by how high-quality each picture was. The company must have had professional pictures taken of each boy. 

The second man he saw was soon after Yeosang. His profile was far from Yeosang's. He wore grungy clothes and makeup in each picture. His poses ranged from leaning above the camera to being caged from above. Most likely portraying him as a 'playboy' of sorts. Wooyoung was his name. He stood out to San for two reasons. One, he was very captivating. Second, he was in the top 10 even though he had joined the agency just two months prior. 

San found it incredibly difficult to decide which one he wanted to call for. Yeosang was the perfect image of a loving boyfriend. Someone who would take care of you. Take you out to dinner, maybe buy you a drink. Then, when you got home, you'd fuck the brains out of him until he couldn't walk. Whining and begging for you to let up, let him breathe, but when you'd stop, he'd ask why you didn't keep going. 

Wooyoung was a perfect one-night stand sort of guy. San imagined they found each other at a bar. They would dance together, take a couple of shots with their arms linked. Then Wooyoung would whisper in his ear, 'Let's go home together,' right as things started to get steamy. He would cry out for San to go harder, even if he was going at an impossible pace. Or maybe he would ride San to filth. Make him cry and beg for Wooyoung to go faster. To let him cum inside. 

The fantasies were endless. Just like San's funds. So he booked both of them for the same appointment. The company didhave a special for ordering two men at once. Why not? It would make an unnoticeable dent in his allowance. 

San likes to think he has a big game, but when the doorbell chimed, he almost fell out of his seat. 

"There are two guests here for you, Sir." The doorman announced over the intercom. He ran over to the console and slipped his finger on the answer button before pushing it properly. 

"Yes, please send them," San croaked out. He smacked his chest and cleared his throat, making his way to the entrance. 

He stood by the entrance, shifting on his feet. Watching the tiny screen for any sight of the two men at his door. It took approximately two minutes for them to show up. Of course, San had been checking his watch every five seconds of those two minutes. They didn't have to knock before San opened the door for them. 

Two men stood in front of him. One man tall with brick red hair styled to shape his face just right. The other short with messy eyeliner lining his eyes. The two were stark in contrast but somehow complemented each other perfectly. 

"Hello. San, Yes?" Yeosang asked, a familiar corporate smile on his face. One that San would wear to greet his superiors. He extended his gloved hand. San took it quickly, shaking it gracelessly. He was trying his best to seem cool, like this was a usual spectacle for him, but he was really failing. 

"Yes, my name is San. You're Yeosang," San stated before turning his attention to Wooyoung. "And Wooyoung." The younger nodded. 

"Yes'sir, that's me." Wooyoung smiled up at San, a much more friendly smile. San extended his other hand, taking Wooyoung's in his. He did this before realizing how weird it was to be shaking both of their hands at the same time. He swiped his hands away and swiveled around, hiding the blush creeping up his neck. 

"Come in, I'm sure you're both cold, would you like some tea?" San asked his usual pleasantries, leading them to his kitchen, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"No thanks-" "Uhm, yes I'm cold as fuc-" Wooyoung interrupted Yeosang. San heard a smack and a yelp. 

"I apologize, San, Wooyoung is still working on his manners." Yeosang apologized, his palm rubbing over the red mark on Wooyoung's skin. San chuckled. 

"It's alright, I'd actually prefer if you were more… casual." San turned around in the doorway, hand brushing at his forearm. Yeosang's eyes softened, and Wooyoung smiled. 

"Of course, Sannie~ I'm good at that," Wooyoung chimed, linking his arm with San's. San smiled weakly.

"Haha, well, I'll make you both some tea then," San concluded, turning back around with Wooyoung still attached to him. Yeosang followed close behind, taking off his gloves and folding them into his pocket. 

San brewed some black tea. Wooyoung sat on a barstool across from San, while Yeosang chose to stand. They conversed while they waited. Simple things, like 'how was your day?' and 'what do you like to do for fun?'. 

"Anyways.. enough of the formalities, what did you have in mind for today, Sannie?~" Wooyoung spoke easily with a friendly tone. It warmed San up, letting his mind form some sentences in his jumbled thoughts. 

"Of course, you mentioned a few things in your application, but we always like to ask anyway," Yeosang added, elbows resting on the island countertop. San thought for a moment, pouring the tea out into three mugs. He sent two of them to the men across the island. 

"Ah, well, I did say I've never… you know," San scratched the back of his neck. 

"You're a virgin, yeah, so what?" Wooyoung kidded. Yeosang shot him a glare. 

"It's not every day you meet a 26-year-old virgin," San quipped, causing Wooyoung to laugh out loud. 

"I have had clients far older than you, San, who haven't even touched a man," Yeosang assured San, coming around the island to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Besides, Wooyoung's right, who cares?" He smiled, and San smiled back. 

San took a sip of his tea. The men followed, sipping their own tea, as if San taking a sip permitted them to do so as well. 

"In that case, I do have one thing I forgot to mention," San hesitated. The hand on his shoulder squeezed him gently, edging him on. 

"I want both of us to fuck you." San turned his head toward Yeosang. Yeosang's eyelid twitched, but his friendly gaze didn't falter. Yeosang wasn't too sure about what San wanted in his request. It was very vague, just saying he wanted to top. He assumed San would want to fuck Yeosang and Wooyoung until he was spent, or have them both on him, pleasuring every part of his body simultaneously. But it seemed that wasn't the case. 

"Oh, sure. No need to be shy about that." Yeosang replied. Wooyoung, though, was feeling a bit suspicious. He set down his mug and leaned over the counter. 

"Like, one after the other, or?" Wooyoung probed, a mischievous smirk on his face. They both watched as a bright red blush formed on San's cheeks. Like he had just been caught. San nodded slowly. 

"Ah- well, if it's alright with you," He looked at Yeosang, gaze downturned. "Or?" Wooyoung giggled under his palm. Yeosang cleared his throat before responding. 

"You want you and Wooyoung to penetrate me at the same time?" Yeosang guessed, mouth slightly agape, blinking quickly. 

"Yes, if you can do it." 

"Hyung has done far worse. There was this one time-" Wooyoung yapped before being interrupted by Yeosang loudly clearing his throat. 

"Let's save the narratives for another time." Yeosang sighed, taking a sip of his tea. San laughed under his breath. 

"Alright, alright, let's get this going!" Wooyoung clapped his hands together and hopped out of his seat. "You know, Sannie, when I saw your picture come up on the application," Wooyoung turned his head to look at San over his shoulder. "I wanted to devour you immediately." 

San choked on his tea. He quickly recovered, though. 

"Really?" San inquired, sincerely.

"None of my clients have been as sexy as you," Wooyoung flirted, batting his eyelashes. Anyone else would think what he said to be cheesy. Obviously, he said that to every client, but to San, it felt like Wooyoung was telling the truth. A soft hand caressed San's cheek, startling him. 

"You are very appealing," Yeosang whispered into San's ear. The praise sent sparks straight to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably, his slacks far too tight. "You'll treat me right, won't you?" Yeosang's voice was suddenly incredibly seductive, almost as if it were lined with honey. 

"Oh- yes, I will," San confirmed, eyes beginning to glaze over just a bit. Simultaneously, Yeosang and Wooyoung's gaze dropped to San's growing erection, barely concealed by his tight pants. 

"Looks like you want more than praise?" Wooyoung cooed, beckoning San to come with his index finger. San was quick to comply, rounding the counter to meet Wooyoung. Wooyoung's eyes widened along with his smile. "Wow, you're very obedient," 

San nodded, his bottom lip protruding into a pout. 

"Can we start now?" San muttered, fingers fidgeting with a silver ring. Wooyoung wrapped his arms around San's neck, pulling him down. 

"Where's your bedroom?" 

Yeosang slid off his jacket one shoulder at a time. He had instructed San to sit at the end of the bed and watch. No way was he going to say no to that. Wooyoung sat behind San, wrapped around him like a koala. 

"Isn't he pretty, San?" Wooyoung whispered into San's ear, a hand slipping under his collar. He shuddered. 

Yeosang was pleasantly slow with his work. Letting San take in every new inch of exposed skin. Once he finished taking off his jacket. He set it neatly on a chair in the corner of the room. Then stood in front of San. He grasped the hem of his turtleneck, lifting it to reveal his torso. Yeosang was defined, to say the least. San's mouth fell open. 

"Touch him," Wooyoung instructed, guiding San's hands to Yeosang's abs. His hands hovered, eyes asking, no pleading, for Yeosang to let him touch. 

"Go ahead," Yeosang permitted. San didn't wait another second, brushing both of his hands across his stomach. His turtleneck fell onto the floor, following his pants. Leaving him in his maroon boxers, which hugged every inch of him perfectly. Wooyoung whistled.

"Hyung, have you been working out more recently?" Wooyoung complimented, unbuttoning San's shirt from behind. San was too focused on Yeosang to hear or feel Wooyoung, though. The man in front of him was the epitome of beauty. His features were so soft, feminine even. His lean muscles just added to his looks. 

"You're not half-bad yourself." Wooyoung purred, both hands grasping San's pecks. He squeezed them a couple of times. He began to kiss at the nape of San's neck. 

"You're so much better than I imagined." San huffed, more to himself than anything. Yeosang chuckled, stepping closer to San. He clasped San's chin between two fingers and tilted his head up to meet his gaze. 

"Yeah? Want to wreck me?" Yeosang cast a line. San took the bait like he was starving. 

"Yes, yes, please Yeosang-ssi," San begged, hands moving up to cup Yeosang's face. 

"No need for that, just call me what you like." Yeosang corrected, straddling San's lap over Wooyoung's legs. They pressed their lips together. Yeosang intended for a slow kiss to get San ready, but the latter had other plans. He forced his tongue into Yeosang's mouth, messy and uncoordinated. He breathed hot into Yeosang's mouth, hands tangled in his hair. Yeosang matched his rhythm, moving in time with San. 

"What 'bout me?" Wooyoung whined from behind, crawling out of his position behind San. He sat back on his heels, unzipping his jacket and throwing it across the room. He was bare underneath, only a chain and a couple of tattoos accessorizing his top half. That's why he was so cold. 

Wooyoung broke the kiss, pulling San off Yeosang by his hair. A string of saliva kept their lips connected. Yeosang tsked. 

"Don't be so rough," Yeosang scolded, but it seemed San was enjoying it. He even whimpered when he was pulled back. His whines were silenced by Wooyoung's lips, his head entirely drawn back to reach Wooyoung. It strained his neck, but he really didn't care. He just kept kissing like he had never stopped. 

San and Wooyoung made out like they both were going to die tomorrow. It reminded Yeosang of how he would imagine two zombies eating each other. Yeosang smiled to himself. He took off the top, then worked on his pants. It took a bit of effort to get San's pants off, considering he was so focused on another task. 

San was surprised when he pulled away for a breath and was suddenly naked. Wooyoung panted behind him, pupils blown. 

"Both of you are something…" Yeosang joked, making his way around to lie down on his back. "Come here, Woo, let's show San how to kiss properly." Wooyoung turned around and climbed onto Yeosang, straddling his hips. San watched wide-eyed as the two men made out. Yeosang was in control this time. He kept their kisses slow, open-mouthed. A tongue would flick out now and then, sometimes they would swirl together, but it stayed languid and sensual. 

San's cock stood up hard and straight, not even skimming his stomach. His core ached. He wanted to jerk off so bad, but that would ruin everything. So instead, he crawled over to them and lay on his side to watch them closely. He studied them like they were the most important lesson of his life. Taking mental notes on how Yeosang kept a possessive hand wrapped around Wooyoung's nape. How Wooyoung's hips twitched into Yeosang with need. He could probably watch them forever if they would let him. 

Yeosang turned his head to face San, breaking their kiss. Wooyoung nuzzled into Yeosang's neck to kiss and suck at anything he could. San stared at Yeosang's puffy pink lips. 

"I'll have to prepare first before we can get to the part you wished for," Yeosang said, reaching over to the bedside table. An assembly of different types of lube and condoms was laid out, thanks to San's worrying. 

"Can I do it?" San asked, still so hesitant to do what he desired. Wooyoung lifted himself off Yeosang, hair all messy. 

"Wanna suck you off," Wooyoung murmured, moving to position himself between San's legs. A hot mouth sucked at his inner thigh, causing his breath to hitch. 

"Of course you can, I'll help you." Yeosang grabbed the lube and set it next to San. He got on all fours and turned himself around. His ass is dangerously close to San's face. 

Yeosang hooked a hand in the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. The elastic framed his ass perfectly as it slid down. The skin is so plush and soft, biteable. 

"Holy shit-" San moaned deep in his throat. He fumbled around the lube, a shaky hand pushing open the cap with a click. He squeezed out a generous glob of lube onto his fingers before rubbing them between Yeosang's cheeks. 

Yeosang moaned quietly, resting his cheek on San's unoccupied thigh. He watched as Wooyoung sucked deep marks into San's previously pristine skin. Yeosang relished in the fact that they got to take such a gorgeous and affectionate man's virginity. No one else would treat him as good as they did, of course. 

San's slim finger ran around the rim of muscle; it contracted at the sudden stimulation. 

"You're doing such a good job," Yeosang praised, eyes closed. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being taken care of. He also would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy being destroyed, but that would be for another time. Hopefully with San. 

San pushed into Yeosang. The older sighed, relaxing as best as he could. He was tight even with just one finger. A worried thought trickled into the back of San's head, wondering if Yeosang would be able to take both of them. While he knew the muscle had the capacity to stretch… would Yeosang be okay? 

"Yeosang-ah," San called breathlessly. His breathing was labored, so much was going on at once, but he had to stay focused for Yeosang's sake. Yeosang hummed in response. "Are you, -ah" 

Wooyoung cut San off with a lick up his hard length. His cock was so hot, filled up to the brink like it would burst any second. San threw his head back, his arm twitching forward, pushing his finger deeper into Yeosang. All three of them moaned in harmony. 

"I- I'm sorry," San hissed. He wanted to buck his hips up so bad. Wooyoung knew it too; he could feel the tension in his muscles holding San back. Wooyoung planted little pecks down San's cock until he reached his balls, taking one in his mouth to suck gently. "Oh-" 

"Don't be sorry," Yeosang assured, his hand coming around to gently clasp San's wrist. He guided San to start thrusting.

Soon, San was fucking Yeosang earnestly with three long fingers. His fingers grazed every part of him perfectly. San must have instinctively known what the prostate felt like, or his fingers were so long it didn't matter, because each push and pull sent pleasure shooting through his body. Yeosang was forced to grip onto San's thigh. The thoughts of Yeosang not being able to take both of them were long forgotten. 

"Mmm, you taste so good, Sannie," Wooyoung moaned, sucking at the tip. San could only nod in response. "Feel so good in my mouth," He bobbed up and down the length with leisure, ensuring San didn't cum too quickly. Yeosang's eyes fluttered open to watch Wooyoung. His mouth stretched around the girth, saliva pooling down his chin. He looked so pretty taking San down his throat. It made Yeosang want to do the same. 

"Woo, move a bit," Yeosang whispered between gentle moans. Wooyoung scooted to the side, coming off his cock. Yeosang tilted his head and mouthed at the base, eyeing Wooyoung. Of course, Wooyoung knew what Yeosang wanted. 

Wooyoung wrapped his lips around the base, almost touching Yeosang's lips with his. Yeosang licked up the length, Wooyoung moving down to suck at San's balls. 

"Wa- wait that- too much," San sputtered. It was too much to watch, two gorgeous men worshiping his cock like it was a sweet delicacy. Now and then, both Yeosang and Wooyoung would come up to the head at the same time, lips linking together, kissing for a few seconds before they remembered the needy cock underneath them. 

Yeosang glanced over at San, who had halted his fingers deep in Yeosang. It felt good with his fingers, but he knew he'd feel even better with something bigger, thicker. He was panting with an arm slack over his forehead. His narrow eyes never left them, as if he were lost in a trance. 

"You're adorable," Yeosang uttered while he pulled out San's fingers. He suddenly felt too empty. He turned around, sitting back on his heels. His body is on full display for San. Tiny waist and thick thighs. Pretty pink lips, lustful eyes. San almost drooled. 

"I'm ready for you now," Yeosang announced. Wooyoung hopped off the bed to clumsily slide both his sweatpants and boxers off. Wooyoung was tinier than Yeosang, but still fit and defined. San could pick him up easily if he wanted to, and fuck did San want to. 

"I don't know if I can handle it," San admitted, causing Wooyoung to spit out a laugh. Yeosang chose to hide his amusement under his palm. 

"Oh fuck-" Wooyoung curled in on himself, laughing even though nothing was that funny. It caused San to crack a smile, even chuckle a little bit. In the meantime, while Wooyoung calmed down, Yeosang straddled San's waist in reverse cowgirl. He rotated at the hips, using San's chest for leverage. 

"Ready, baby?" Yeosang asked. San, jaw slack, droned out a yes. Yeosang turned back around, pouring a generous amount of lube on San's dick. Wooyoung stood and watched, waiting patiently for his turn. 

Yeosang lined himself up, San's thick head prodding at Yeosang's entrance. Both San and Wooyoung weren't lacking in the dick department. Yeosang's heart fluttered at the thought. The adrenaline allowed him to sink onto San's cock. San moaning obscenely as he did so. 

"Oh my god, this is better than I thought," San croaked out, squeezing Yeosang's ass with large hands as he got used to the feeling. He wasn't sure if he could make it to the finale at this rate. Yeosang was too tight, too warm, too slick. He was so much all at once. 

"Fuck you're big," Yeosang's eyes shut. The girth stretched him out so much, it burned just a bit, even with the heavy amount of lubricant. Wooyoung noticed his discomfort, shifting onto the bed to kneel in front of him. 

"Yeo~ feel good, yeah?" Wooyoung grinned, leaning down to take Yeosang's perky nipple into his mouth. Yeosang clenched down on San, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung's neck. 

"Mm!- yeah, yes," Yeosang nodded. San traced his hips and ass in comforting circles. Even if he was just as unstable as Yeosang was, he tried to help. Wooyoung looked up through batting eyelashes, fluttering his tongue on his nipple. His hands wrapped around Yeosang's waist. 

"Come on, Yeo, Sannie's waiting so patiently," Wooyoung encouraged, lifting his head back up to face Yeosang. He nodded weakly. "Good boy," 

Wooyoung lifted Yeosang by his waist up to the tip, then guided him down to the hilt. Yeosang moaned into Wooyoung's shoulder. 

"Taking it so good," San hissed. He replaced Wooyoung's grip with his. While he was gentle at first, his resolve seemed to have begun breaking. He gripped Yeosang roughly before forcing him up his cock, dropping him as soon as he reached the top. Yeosang choked out a high-pitched moan at the sudden quickness. He followed San's lead, riding him sloppily. 

Yeosang let go of Wooyoung in favor of leaning back onto San's chest, his head falling next to San's. Head turning to whisper in San's ear. 

"Fuck me," 

San wrapped his arms around Yeosang, lifting his hips off the mattress onto his feet. Allowing him to fuck into Yeosang. He cried out. San's cock plowed into him. A melody of wet smacking from skin against skin played loudly across the room. Wooyoung gulped, wondering how in the world this was going to work. 

"Woo- fuck- Woo-ah come," Yeosang drew Wooyoung in with a whiny beg. San lifted Yeosang's legs by his knees up to his chest. He was surprisingly flexible, showing no signs of strain. Wooyoung crawled on top of San's legs. 

"Tell me if it's too much, Hyung," Wooyoung spoke, gentle but serious, making sure Yeosang was paying attention. Yeosang nodded. Wooyoung shifted onto his knees, lining himself up on the already stretched-out hole. He poured out lube over his shaft, using some extra to line Yeosang and San as well. 

Yeosang groaned as Wooyoung slowly entered him, the stretch becoming painful. With a free hand, Wooyoung wrapped around Yeosang's cock, stroking it, focusing on the tip. The older whined pitifully, trying his best to keep it together. The pleasure surging through his cock was enough to distract him.

"You're so gorgeous, Yeosang-ah," San muttered into Yeosang's ear. He stroked and squeezed his inner thighs. "I'm so glad I chose you," 

Once Wooyoung reached the hilt, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It was impossibly tight, tighter than anything he's ever stuck himself into. It felt like Yeosang was simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. 

"Move," Yeosang whispered, and Wooyoung followed through. He began his thrusts, biting his lip. The slick definitely helped, but it still was a struggle to stay inside. San watched as beads of sweat prickled Wooyoung's skin. His muscles flexed in time with each thrust. Yeosang also bent perfectly, moaning deliciously into his ear. This was all he ever dreamed of and more. The feeling of Wooyoung's cock rubbing against his and Yeosang's hole clamping down around him. He didn't think he could ever get off normally after this. 

Wooyoung slowed down his thrusts, allowing San to start up his. He moved in rough and sporadic thrusts, almost causing Yeosang to bounce up off of San. He cried out, gripping onto San's biceps for dear life. It felt incredibly good now that the pain had subsided. He felt so full in the best way possible. It was shocking how he never thought to try this before. 

"Y-yeo, mm' gonna-" San hissed into the crook of Yeosang's neck. 

"C-cum San, -ah, fill me up." Yeosang managed to get a sentence out in the midst of the chaos. San grunted before spilling himself into Yeosang. 

"Shit-" Wooyoung cursed under his breath. The cum beginning to gush out of Yeosang's hole was extremely attractive. He watched as San's cock and balls twitched under his. 

"So good- so good, Yeo," San murmured, licking and biting Yeosang's earlobe. Yeosang bit his lip, his core warm and full. Wooyoung began to move again, pushing San into overstimulation. 

"Hold on for just a sec." Wooyoung grinned, speeding up his thrusts. San took Yeosang's dick and started stroking him at the same time. 

"Oh god-" Yeosang threw his head back. He came on the fourth stroke in time with Wooyoung. Yeosang cried out, Wooyoung moaned deep in his throat. He was hitting his prostate so hard it was milking him dry. Thick ropes of cum paint Yeosang, some even falling onto San's cheek. 

San and Wooyoung's cum mixed, filling Yeosang up so much. As soon as Wooyoung pulled out, it gushed out in spurts. Wooyoung grabbed Yeosang's ass cheeks, pulling them apart so more could flow out. He groaned. 

"Woo…" Yeosang tried to gather himself, huffing, fully limp on top of San. San pulled out of Yeosang as well, shifting him so he was lying on his back on the covers. 

"You two lay here, I'll clean you up," San announced, quickly jumping onto his feet and scampering into the connected bathroom. Wooyoung crawled over to Yeosang, leaning his head on Yeosang's shoulder, cuddling his side. 

"You alright, Hyung?" Wooyoung asked, wiping some stray cum off Yeosang's cheek. He hummed, turning his head slightly to smile down at Wooyoung. 

"I don't think I've ever come that hard in my life," Yeosang confessed, pulling Wooyoung in closer. San came in a bit cleaner than he was before. He held two damp towels, which were warm to the touch. He cleaned up Yeosang first, wiping his stomach and chest before moving downward. Yeosang hissed when the fabric touched his sensitive skin. 

"I'm sorry, I'll be gentle," San assured. He gently wiped up the cum that had spilled out of him. Then he moved to Wooyoung, cleaning him up quickly since he wasn't super dirty to begin with. "Do you both want to shower?" San asked, throwing both towels into the hamper in the corner. 

"Mmmm, later." Yeosang yawned, stretching his free arm out to San. He accepted, crawling next to Yeosang. Wooyoung wrapped his arms and legs around Yeosang. San held Yeosang's head to his chest, petting his hair. 

"Thank you, that was amazing," San whispered into Yeosang's hair. 

"Anything for our favorite client," Wooyoung chuckled at San's shocked look on his face. Yeosang was already drifting off to sleep, subtly twitching from the noisy man next to him. 

"Favorite?" San asked. 

"Yeah, Yeosang would say so too," Wooyoung closed his eyes, listening to Yeosang's slowing heartbeat. "Let's do this again sometime." He yawned. "I'll get you a discount." 

I keep forgetting to post this here

There are now 6 chapters out for this one! I am going insane over these three still and I accidentally wrote so much of chapter 7 already as well, so hopefully I can upload that one this week as well!