Work Text:
He gets like this sometimes. A little too restless, a little too on edge. It's the pressure, the deadlines. The need to be better and sound better. Jisung bounces his leg as the track loops over again, trying and failing to think of words that would fit it. They have the theme, Changbin already started with some lyrics, Chan's been helping. And all Jisung has done? Bounce his leg and stare at a wall.
"Hey," he hears Changbin say. A hand lands on his knee, stopping the motion and squeezing lightly. "Hey. Are you okay? You're being quiet."
Jisung brings his unfocused eyes up to meet Changbin's gaze.
"Yeah," Jisung breathes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, totally, totally cool."
Changbin stares at him for a second longer. Jisung squirms under his gaze, bites his lip, licks around the edges of his mouth. An understanding passes through the older man then, his expression softening.
"No," Changbin murmurs. "You're not."
The track loops again. Jisung feels like he's been heard without uttering a word.
"Do you want me to…?" Changbin lifts his hand. An offer.
Jisung's mouth waters at the thought of it. "Please."
Changbin scoots his chair closer, bringing his hand up to Jisung's mouth. This is familiar to them. An old song and dance. He opens up easily, takes the fingers he's offered, swirling a happy tongue around them.
Changbin gives a lopsided smile, a shaky exhale. "Good boy."
It makes him whimper, the pet name. The praise. Chan turns, then, catching sight of the two of them. Jisung meets his eyes as he licks around Changbin’s fingers slowly, feeling the warmth settle in him.
Chan sighs at the sight of them, gives them a tender, fond smile. "Aw. Did you need Changbin's fingers, pretty baby?"
Jisung's eyelids flutter at the words, his whine more pronounced now. Changbin and Chan trade a look, communicating something that goes over Jisung's head. Though, he's pretty sure he knows what's coming when Chan rolls his chair over.
"Can I?" He asks.
Jisung almost dislodges Changbin's fingers with how hard he nods. It makes them laugh, their smiles mirrored.
Chan brings his fingers up to Jisung's mouth, feeling around the edges of it, stretching him open to accommodate himself next to Changbin. Jisung moans now, an earnest noise, feeling so full with four fingers in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around them, eyes closing at the sensation. His brain goes silent, every single sound muted as he laves their fingers with slow licks, tasting around their skin.
It's bliss, being filled like this. All he has to focus on is the weight of them in his mouth, the shape of each of them different in ways Jisung is still working hard to map out. And he tries to memorize it all, the ridges and valleys of them, their blunt nails, the knobs of their knuckles. He hears Changbin exhale shakily, hears Chan bite back a noise.
And then Changbin starts moving, his fingers retreating from the warmth of Jisung's mouth, brushing against Chan's fingers, against Jisung's tongue. Jisung is about to whine at the loss when Changbin pushes back in, slowly fucking into Jisung's mouth. It makes him moan again, being fingered like this, being touched and used.
Changbin pulls back again, pushes in. Chan follows suit, drawing back just as Changbin gets settled in. Just as he's pulling out, Chan crooks his fingers, dragging the digits along Jisung's cheeks. Jisung's eyebrows knit further, shoulders sagging as he leans into the touch, desperate whine leaving him. It's such an intimate and deliberate action which only speaks to how well Chan knows him, how well he knows exactly what buttons to push to make Jisung a whimpering, melting mess in seconds.
Changbin snorts at the reaction and, not to be undone in the whole knowing Jisung arena, searches Jisung's mouth, fingers feeling along the ridges of Jisung's teeth. It makes Jisung shiver, shake, whine. Tension leaks out of him in waves. He's having a hard time focusing on anything that isn't their touch.
They set up a loose rhythm, fingers moving in and out of Jisung's mouth a handful of times before he feels himself settle into the role. When he's here, in this space, he's okay with being just a mouth. Just a warm place to tuck into without worries. They could use him for anything right about now and he would say nothing, just moan and pant and thank them.
Of course, he forgot that this started with the focus on him, which is why he's so surprised when Changbin pushes in deep, back to his molars, then presses into the cheek, drags his fingers out halfway before Jisung feels his thumb on the skin of his face, pinching the meat of his cheek from the outside and the inside.
Jisung's eyes fly open, meeting their heated gazes. The two of them exchange one more look and Chan is following suit, pinching his other cheek and pulling, stretching Jisung's mouth open so obscenely wide, he's almost lightheaded with it. It's embarrassing how much this turns him on, his mouth being stretched like this, but he's beyond embarrassment with the two of them already. He trusts them implicitly and explicitly and he's sure they already know that— which is why he feels like it's such a dick move when Changbin copies Chan, pulling Jisung's mouth open on both sides.
His whimper is longer this time— louder, too now that his mouth is being spread open like this. Out of pure instinct, Jisung lets his jaw drop open, lets his tongue loll out. An open invitation. A reminder of how gone he is already. His eyes dart from Chan to Changbin and back again, watching twin smiles of adoration and heat grow on their faces. They hold him like that for a moment longer, Jisung breathing hard through his gaping mouth, before Changbin's smile widens. He releases Jisung's cheek, letting the skin snap back into place. Jisung's eyes roll back at the feeling, the ghost of Changbin's touch lingering on the inside of his mouth.
Chan giggles, pulling back as well. His grip lingers, though, drags its way out of Jisung's mouth slowly rather than abruptly. Jisung goes with it, leaning forward until he almost falls out of the chair trying to chase Chan's touch.
Changbin snorts a laugh and sets a hand on Jisung's shoulders to steady him. "Better?"
Jisung swallows thick, tries to get his breathing under control. His mind is firmly set into a certain headspace that he's not quite ready to leave yet.
"Can I suck one of you off? Or warm you? I need more."
"Aw," Chan coos. "Needy baby."
Jisung bites back another whine, instead opening his eyes big and wide, a mockery of pleading.
"You look ridiculous," Changbin comments, but he still cups Jisung's cheek briefly, an act of fondness. "Do you want both?"
Jisung nods all too enthusiastically. Makes both of them laugh lightly.
Changbin looks to Chan. "Which one do you want?"
"Hmm," Chan ponders sitting back in his chair, arms crossed. "I think I'll take warming. He's all yours, Bin."
"Nice," Changbin says before reaching down to the waistband of his jeans. "Come on, mouth boy. Put that thing to good use."
Despite the headspace Jisung is in, he still finds it in himself to roll his eyes before he slips off the chair, kneeling in front of Changbin. He lays his hands on Changbin’s thighs, watches with a watering mouth as he unbuttons and unzips, pulling out his half hard dick. He gives it a few strokes, his other hand moving to the back of Jisung's head.
Jisung lets himself be guided onto Changbin's dick, the taste of him familiar and welcome by now, the weight of him sitting on Jisung's tongue perfectly. He takes over for Changbin's steadying hand, gripping the base of his cock and bobbing his head, stroking up in time with the movement of his mouth. Changbin exhales hard, a strangled moan on the end of it. Jisung feels the cock pulse in his mouth, filling out as he goes, making his mouth feel ever fuller.
He hums lightly, bobbing his head in a practiced rhythm. Sometimes, he feels like this is where he belongs: mouth full and mind blank, his only focus on creating a pattern that'll leave Changbin (or Chan, he's not picky, they both have really pretty dicks) shaking. It's better than any therapy, he thinks. He's likely wrong but— who cares? He never claimed to be an expert on these things.
As he moves, he hears Chan shuffling in his chair. He lifts his eyes to look to the side and— sure enough, Chan is palming himself through his sweatpants, eyes glued to the movement of Jisung's mouth.
Their eyes meet briefly. Chan smiles at him. "You look good."
The compliment hits Jisung in the chest, heartbeat fluttering. He tries to look at Chan properly but the angle is hell, so he pulls back and shifts, leaving the head of Changbin's cock in his mouth and slurping around the excess saliva before he turns his head and sinks down again, pushing the cock into the pocket of his cheek, stretching the skin out obscenely.
Chan groans at the sight, quickly undoing the drawstrings of his pants and hastily shoving them down to touch himself properly. Jisung watches with hungry eyes, feeling his spit dribble down Changbin’s cock, tongue darting out on the underside, making a bigger mess of them both.
"You look even better now," Chan says shakily, fist moving on his cock.
Changbin groans, the hand in his hair traveling to his face and pressing around the stretched skin of Jisung's cheek, letting out another, higher pitched noise when he feels around the head of his own cock—
"S-so hot, Hannie, fuck," Changbin pants out, and Jisung can tell it's taking everything in him to not move his hips.
Jisung hums, feeling warmer now that he's got some compliments in him, so he slurps again, drawing back to settle onto Changbin's cock properly once more. He starts his rhythm anew, wanting the calm of a routine to settle over him, the soothing fullness of a cock in his mouth.
He moves in measured bobs, his hand supplementing his mouth. The small studio is filled with the slick sound of Jisung's mouth, the sound of Chan’s hand working on his own cock, the groans and labored exhales of the three of them. He's making a mess of Changbin's jeans, his saliva pooling and darkening the fabric around where Changbin's cock is barely pulled out enough, desperation of the moment clear.
At some point he starts humming along to the beat which still thrums through the speakers, making Changbin gasp, fingers threading through his hair and pulling again. It makes Jisung moan and the moan makes Changbin tighten his grip, creating a feedback loop of pleasure for another few seconds. He’s so far gone, he doesn’t even think of the musical implications of a loop, too blissed out to really register anything.
He can tell Changbin is close when he can't hold back his hips anymore. Jisung feels him move, the thrust catching him off guard and making him gag, ruining his rhythm but so, so welcome. He lets Changbin shift, focuses on controlling his breathing, and closes his eyes in preparation.
Only a few more shallow thrusts and Changbin is inhaling sharp and letting out a broken moan. "Han— Hannie, I'm g— gonna c— Han, Jisung—"
He doesn't slow down. Doesn't speed up. He continues his steady rhythm until he feels the cock in his mouth pulse, layering his mouth with wave after wave of bitter cum. He's so pleased by the feeling of having his mouth filled further that he can't bring himself to immediately pull off and complain about it. Instead, he lets Changbin finish riding out his orgasm before he slumps back into the chair with a pleased exhale.
Jisung breathes through his nose, swirls his tongue around the head of Changbin’s softening dick. To the side, he hears Chan, still touching himself, letting out a strangled moan, "Fuck, you're both so— Hannie—"
Jisung meets his eyes again. He makes a decision then, pulling off Changbin and moving quickly, clothed knees sliding on the polished floor, not even thinking twice before he overlaps Chan's fingers with his own spit-slick hand and fits his mouth over the head of Chan's cock. He swirls his tongue, spit and Changbin's cum mixing together, making the whole affair even messier—
And then Chan is coming with a deep, wavering groan, adding to the mess in Jisung’s mouth. Jisung takes it, every single drop, exhaling a little too blissfully at the feeling.
When he's spent, Chan exhales a laugh, carding soft fingers through Jisung's hair. He could stay here forever.
"Do you wanna spit?" Chan asks gently.
Jisung weighs his options. On the one hand, swallowing is hot and he likes the knowledge it brings him that he's got their cum inside him. Something possessive and animal. On the other hand, it's a lot of cum and really doesn't wanna deal with it coating his throat for the foreseeable future. So he pulls back and nods.
Changbin pushes the wastebasket in his direction and he spits, hacks a loogie, spits again. Nowhere near sexy but it’s standard fare for them.
"You did really good," Chan assures him when he looks back up. "You don't have to do anything else, okay?"
Jisung narrows his eyes. "Shut up and let me cockwarm you, hyung."
Chan laughs again, cheeks pink. "Okay. Under the desk."
Jisung follows his order, settles himself into position and waits for Chan to roll his chair back into place. When Chan’s in place, Jisung takes his softening dick into his mouth again, properly this time. Chan sucks in a sharp breath, likely from oversensitivity, but relaxes into it a second later.
Jisung lets the weight of Chan settle onto his tongue, warming the already warm skin further with his overheated mouth. He hums, pleased, and settles into it, letting his mind go blank, cheek pressing into Chan's thigh as he feels a sleepy sort of trance envelop him. He hears Chan and Changbin messing around with the song again, murmuring lyrics and rhymes, creating the perfect background noise for Jisung to let himself float.
Right here, he thinks. He belongs right here.