Archive of Our Own

1. Jungsu

Buying the supplies he needs for this online is far far easier, he decides. Much better having them show up to the dorm in a brown shipping box than going out for them and having to deal with meeting anyone in the store with a basket full of waxing and hair care stuff. They’ve all ended up doing the same thing, it seems, because the number of packages coming to the dorm in the last week or so has definitely gone up, and it’s not just Seungmin’s obsessive online shopping habits that are causing it. 

He only ends up buying a couple of different kinds of waxing strips, just to see how things go, but if it’s successful he’s seriously considering buying a proper wax melter for the future. It’s not like they can take Jooyeon to the salon to get it done — not if they don’t want to answer a thousand questions about it — and if nothing else, it’s always handy to have in the dorm. Maybe Seungmin will go halves with him,since he’s the one always complaining about ingrown hairs when he has to shave.

Jooyeon comes to his bedroom the night before they’ve agreed to play with him for the first time. He’s dressed in old faded pyjama bottoms and the t-shirt he was wearing at practice. He hasn’t showered yet. Jungsu told him not to bother, it’s better to go in once they’re finished with the wax otherwise, he’ll be sticky all night. 

“Ready to get pretty?” Jungsu asks him, pulling out everything he needs and setting it out on his bedside table where he can reach it easily.

“I’m nervous,” Jooyeon says and gives him a shaky smile, pushing his pyjama bottoms over his hips. Jungsu laughs and pushes him gently until he sits on the edge of the bed so he can help him get them off and out of the way. 

“Don’t be such a baby, you’ll be fine. It doesn’t hurt that much.” 

Once they’re off Jooyeon shuffles backwards until he can lie down. Jungsu pulls his desk chair up to the bed, catching one of Jooyeon’s ankles and tugging a leg onto his lap. 

Jooyeon doesn’t have all that much hair on his legs, certainly less than Jiseok, and less than Jungsu himself, but it still needs to go for what they have planned. He runs his hand lightly up Jooyeon’s calf and smiles at the way it makes him wriggle in place. 

“Ready?” he asks, and Jooyeon nods again.

Jooyeon hasn’t actually waxed at all before. The few times he gets put in sleeveless shirts he’s been able to get away with shaving, and he hasn’t worn shorts for any of the official schedules, so he’s gotten lucky. Jungsu has to suppress a smile as he smooths down the first strip, very much looking forward to seeing his reaction.

When he yanks it off Jooyeon practically jumps off the bed, and it’s only the fact that he anticipated as much that saves Jungsu from taking a kick to the face. He grabs Jooyeon’s ankle and tugs him back down the bed until his calf is back in place in his lap.

“Behave, or I can make this hurt even worse than it already does,” he warns, and Jooyeon pales a little.

He works steadily on one calf then the other, then up to his hips. He saves Jooyeon’s inner thighs for last. There’s barely any hair here, just soft downy fuzz, but it’s good to be thorough. If nothing else, it’ll get him warmed up for the last stage. Eventually he eases Jooyeon back down onto the bed. He taps his hips until he lifts them up and Jungsu can ease his underwear down and off. He tries to be careful and not let the fabric drag too much where Jooyeon is clearly sensitive, but he still feels the way Jooyeon shudders a little when they get stuck on his ankles. 

Once they’re off Jooyeon automatically draws them up to cover himself. Jungsu cups a hand around his bony knee.

“Come on, Yeonny, don’t be shy. It’s just hyung.” He strokes a thumb over the bare skin under his hand and feels the warmth of Jooyeon’s newly waxed skin, feels another tremble from Jooyeon at the increased sensation. “Let me in.”

When Jooyeon’s legs relax a little, he pulls his chair closer to the bed and shoulders his way between him. He flashes him an encouraging smile when his hands finally fall away from his crotch. 

He’d told Jooyeon to trim himself to make tonight a little easier, but the hair is still thick and dark, nestled around his little cock. Fuck . He looks so sweet like this already, and as much as Jungsu wants to see what he looks like bare and pink and pretty, he also can’t wait until it grows back.

Jooyeon jumps a little when Jungsu smooths the wax from the pot over the hair and presses a strip down, so Jungsu gives him a moment to prepare himself. 

“Ready?”

Jooyeon shakes his head, with his big wet eyes wide and staring at him beseechingly.

“I’ll count down from three, okay? Close your eyes.”

He waits until Jooyeon shuts his eyes then starts the countdown, and immediately rips it off once he gets to two. Jooyeon yowls and Jungsu has to stop him from trying to close his legs again. It’s not like he’d be able to do much with Jungsu sitting between them, but he doesn’t want to get kneed in the side of the head while he’s working. 

It takes almost twice as long to get all of the hair in his crotch, mostly because after every strip he pulls up, he has to force Jooyeon’s legs open again. When he moves to get the softer hairs in the crease of his groin, Jungsu gives up on trusting Jooyeon to stay still and just holds him down himself. The pathetic pained little whimpers and whines Jooyeon lets out have gone straight to Jungsu’s dick, but he’s ignoring it in favour of focussing on doing this properly. 

Eventually there’s only one place left. They hadn’t told him about this, or at least, Jungsu certainly hadn’t, but there must be a part of him that expects it.

“Right, on your knees now baby. Facing the wall.” 

Jooyeon looks at him blankly, a confused little moue on his mouth. 

“What for?” he asks. Hmm . Obviously he hadn’t thought about this part at all. 

“We’re not finished yet, just a little more to go. Won’t take long!” he smiles. Best not to tell him until it’s too late for him to get away. 

He stands up from the chair and grabs Jooyeon’s hands to pull him up and turn him around. He waits for Jooyeon to get both knees on the edge of the bed before he plants a firm hand between his shoulder blades and pushes him down. Jooyeon catches himself on his hands and turns to shoot Jungsu another confused look.

“Further down, Yeonny. I need to be able to actually get in there.” 

“Get in where?” he hears Jooyeon ask, a little muffled as he lowers his face into the mattress.

Jungsu doesn’t respond. He just spreads him open with his thumbs so that he can see Jooyeon’s pink little hole. 

“H-hyung… not there…” He tries and fails to shake Jungsu’s hands off.

“I told you, Jooyeon, we need to be thorough. Don’t you want to be a good girl for us, darling?”

Jooyeon hesitates for a movement and then slumps, his back arching beautifully, and Jungsu smiles as he scoops more wax out of the little pot. 

He howls when the first strip is ripped off. There’s not as much hair as he had around his cock but the amount of nerve endings here definitely makes up for it. Jungsu has to hold him down again, one hand on the strips and one hand on his back, to stop him from bucking away. 

By the time Jungsu finally finishes, and lets Jooyeon slump bonelessly onto his side, he can see the sweat gathering on his forehead. Poor baby. He’d actually held up far better than Jungsu expected him to, even with the amount of time he had to spend restraining him. 

He pulls out the wipes that came in the box and works on getting rid of the worst of any sticky residue left on his skin. He follows the same route he did with the strips, starting at his ankles and moving upwards, moving his legs around as and where he needs them. Jooyeon whimpers breathlessly when he wipes around his cock and his hole, the skin still flaming red and no doubt radiating pulses of heat, but he doesn’t try to pull away. 

He smiles happily to himself when he sees the vacant glaze in Jooyeon’s eyes. He had thought this would be enough to get him into the lovely floaty space in his head, but it’s nice to have it confirmed. 

It’s only slightly less gratifying when he has to manhandle Jooyeon into the shower because he’s a little too spacey to reliably put one front in front of the other, but he’s light enough that Jungsu can scoop him up and put him back on his feet when he needed. He takes over washing Jooyeon down after it’s clear Jooyeon doesn’t want to touch any of the freshly waxed skin. If they had the time, Jungsu would have really lingered over it, testing just how sensitive it is, but he doesn’t want to be the reason no one else gets to play with him because he’d brained himself on the tile wall. 

Once he’s all clean and there’s nothing left sticking to him, Jungsu dries them both off, and  drags Jooyeon back to the bedroom. Someone has been in and cleaned up the mess while they were gone, probably Seungmin or Gunil, and left out some clean pyjamas for Jooyeon. 

“Do you want to get dressed or do you want to sleep like this?” He shakes Jooyeon a little to get his attention.

“Cold.” Jooyeon mumbles sleepily, and Jungsu takes that to mean he wants to get dressed. 

Jungsu sits him down on the chair and dresses him as quickly as he can. He pulls on soft flannel pants (probably Hyeongjun’s) and a big t-shirt (definitely Gunil’s) then pulls him back up so they can get under the blankets. 

“Come on, you big baby, time for bed.” 

Jooyeon shoves his face into Jungsu’s neck and Jungsu smiles as he presses a kiss into Jooyeon’s hair. 

In the morning Jungsu slips out of bed into the kitchen to get Jooyeon something light to eat before they get started properly. He’s the first one out of his room but he’s sure Seungmin will be awake by now - he’s in charge of making sure everyone else is up and ready to take their turn playing dress up.

He wakes Jooyeon up with some orange juice and an energy bar. 

“Ready to get started, baby?” he asks. Jooyeon mumbles sleepily but allows Jungsu to pull him out of bed and onto the desk chair. 

Jungsu still isn’t the best at getting creative with hair. He knows the basics from being forced to play hairdressers with his sister, but he’s been practising with Jooyeon for weeks now, so he’s getting better. His fingers are more sure now as he pulls in more hair to make little braids on the top of his head, slow but determined to get it right. He ends up leaving most of his hair loose, the way they all love it, but he sweeps the braids and the top layer of his hair into little pigtails to frame his face. It’s not too different from the way it was during the Lilac Class shoot, or the multiple times he’s ended up in pigtails since then. He looks just as pretty as the first time they saw him with them. Jungsu knows they make him feel it too, that Jooyeon loves the way they all fuss over him even more than they already do, the way they treat him like a doll.

Once it’s all done, he steps back to admire his work. Not as good as their actual hair stylists would have done, obviously, but  good enough. He reaches over into a desk drawer to pull out a little box before Jooyeon gets up.

“Look, I got these for you. Special for your big day,” he says, and pulls off the lid for Jooyeon to look inside. Two lacy pink bows with hearts in the middle, a little gaudy, maybe - but it doesn’t matter as long as Jooyeon likes them.

“For me?” 

His eyes are wide and shining as he looks up. Jungsu wants to kiss him, but their time is almost up.

“Of course they’re for you. Who else would look as pretty as you wearing them?” 

He smiles as he carefully ties the elastic around the pigtails and makes sure the bows sit properly before he holds out his hands for Jooyeon to take. 

“Come on, then. Time for you to go to Hyeongjun. He’ll be waiting for you.”

Jooyeon lets himself be pulled up and follows Jungsu obediently to Hyeongjun’s room and stands while Jungsu knocks lightly on the door. 

“Have fun,” he says, and kisses Jooyeon’s cheek as the door opens. It’s not the kiss he wanted, but it’ll have to do for now. 

2. Hyeongjun

He’s thankfully not as nervous about this as the first few times he’d done Jooyeon’s nails, but there’s still a faint hum of anxious anticipation as he waits in his room for him to show up. He fiddles nervously with everything he’s laid out on his desk, straightening the bottles of nail varnish and topcoat, then the brushes and palettes that he has for later.

Jungsu knocks. Hyeongjun jumps a little, even though he’s been waiting for him for at least the last five minutes. He stands up, but Jungsu opens the door and pushes Jooyeon in before him to stand in the middle of the room.

He looks cute, but his hair is a little at odds with the big jumper he’s got on and the pyjama pants that Hyeongjun thought had gotten lost in the wash last week. Still, something about it works. Jooyeon can pull off basically anything he wants to without even trying. 

“Where do you want him?” Jungsu asks, hands still on Jooyeon’s shoulders ready to guide him to Hyeongjun’s chosen location. 

“On the bed is fine,” he says. This is how they normally do it when Jooyeon asks him to paint his nails. It’s a good height for him to be able to rest his hands on while Hyeongjun does his thing. 

“Behave yourself.” Jungsu deposits Jooyeon on the bed and kisses his forehead, ignoring Jooyeon’s upturned face silently asking for another. 

He squeezes Hyeongjun’s shoulder as he walks out and closes the door behind him. Hyeongjun knows that if it was anyone else, Jungsu probably would have kissed him too, or touched his face, or even ruffled his hair. He’s half grateful, half envious of the way Jungsu touches him differently, though with the same meaning behind it. He doesn’t have time to think about that now. Not with Jooyeon sitting on the bed watching him with bright eyes and an excited little smile. 

They don’t talk as Junhan uncaps the polish bottle and pulls Jooyeon’s hand closer to get started. Hyeongjun isn’t especially chatty at the best of times, and he has an even harder time trying to carry a conversation while he’s focussing on making his strokes nice and neat. Jooyeon sometimes makes comments that don’t require an answer, because he’s not good at staying silent, but for the most part he’s quiet, and concentrating on keeping still for as long as possible. He was genuinely upset the first time he’d moved and accidentally caused Hyeongjun to smudge the top coat when they were on the last layer. Hyeongjun managed to fix it by just taking it off and starting over, but since then Jooyeon has been determined to only move when the brush is firmly back in the bottle. 

The polish he’s using this time is different from the one they’ve been using, the Barbie pink he bought Jooyeon for his birthday. This one is a softer baby pink. It’s a little more subtle, but it will match better with what the others have planned. He’d specifically asked Seungmin about the outfit he had in mind, to make sure it would be a better fit before he’d bought it. 

They both get a little lost in the rhythmic movement of the brush over each nail, and Jooyeon does a wonderful job of blowing on each hand so they’re dry enough for the next coat. Hyeongjun is much quicker with this now that his muscle memory has built up between the amount of times he’s painted his own nails and Jooyeon’s, and he feels less like he’s going to mess it up at any second. 

The makeup is still new and a little intimidating. He’s not nearly as practised or as confident in his abilities, but he’s trying his best. He sets down Jooyeon’s hand on the desk after the last layer of topcoat and screws the cap back on. Jooyeon has a sweet, proud little smile as he admires his nails, and Hyeongjun turns away to look at the makeup he’s laid out on the desk. 

When they’d talked about doing this for real, without Jooyeon, he’d volunteered to take care of that part. Something about him appeals to him, even with how nervous it makes him.. His hands are steady. He loves the way doing something so detail-oriented focuses his brain and makes his nerves fade into the background. Painting his nails, learning the finger placements for a new song or practising chords over and over until he can do them in his sleep, and now swiping eyeliner over Jooyeon’s eyelids. 

He’s been watching videos on YouTube about how to do it properly, practising on himself in the mirror until he got the hang of it and now knows the difference between pencil eyeliner and an eyeliner pen. It’s a little different doing it on someone else, he’s finding, but the concept is the same once he gets started with it. At least it’s a little easier to make sure things are symmetrical when he’s not doing it on himself. 

Jooyeon sits just as still as he did while his nails were being painted, and far better than he ever does for the makeup noonas. He’s not sure that he’d be able to cope with it like they do ifJooyeon was constantly trying to chat to whoever was in the chair next to him, and he had to keep pulling his head back to face him. 

He keeps it pretty simple this time, some eyeliner with a sweet little flick on the end, a light sweep of blush over his cheekbones. A dusting of soft pink and peach eyeshadow on his lids, and then, extremely carefully and with no small amount of trepidation, a coat of mascara on his lashes to bring it all together. They both breathe out a sigh of relief once he puts the tube of mascara down without any major incidents. 

“Can I see?” Jooyeon asks in a soft voice, like he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet between them. 

“Not yet.” Hyeongjun shakes his head and reaches for the little tube of lipstick sitting on his desk. 

He already looks so lovely, his face so sweet and open, dark eyes reflecting the light from the window. The glitter in the eyeshadow catches the light when he looks down at the tube in Hyeongjun’s hand.

It’s a slightly darker pink than his nails, but not by much. Deep enough to stand out but still light enough that it could pass as natural. It’s similar to the dusky pink colour Jooyeon’s lips turn when he’s eaten something spicy. 

Jooyeon tilts his head and looks up at him, still not saying anything, though he doesn’t have to hold still right now. Hyeongjun does sometimes wonder if Jooyeon’s quietness with him is entirely about focussing on not moving or whether some of it is part of whatever this does to his brain that makes him get a little blurry around the edges. Either way, he’s glad of it as he gently tilts Jooyeon’s chin up to apply the lipstick. Jooyeon lets his mouth fall open naturally, and Hyeongjun feels his tongue poking between his teeth as he concentrates on the shape of Jooyeon’s lips.

“You look lovely,” he says when he sits back and looks at Jooyeon properly. He reaches forward to move away a stray piece of hair that has caught on Jooyeon’s face as Jooyeon beams at him. It’s one of his gummy smiles where his nose scrunches up, the one that the photographers don’t like him to do but Hyeongjun loves because it’s so genuine. Now it shows off the sooty sweep of his eyelashes and highlights the colour in the apples of his cheeks, and he allows himself to feel a measure of success in his first proper makeup application. Jooyeon’s face is a very forgiving canvas, but he thinks keeping things simple was the right decision, more of an accentuation of his features than anything else.

He hands Jooyeon the little mirror from the desk and squirms a little as he watches Jooyeon’s eyes catalogue his face in the reflection. The confidence he had a second ago has faded somewhat, but he tells himself it’ll be fine. Even if Jooyeon hates it he won’t say anything. He’s not mean like that.

“Thanks Junnie,” he smiles sweetly, “It’s really nice. You made me so pretty!”

Hyeongjun’s stomach swoops pleasantly as he checks whether Jooyeon’s nails are dry enough for him to touch.

The topcoat has done its job. He pulls Jooyeon up off the bed, ready to lead him down the hall where Gaon is waiting for him. His palm is a little clammy but Jooyeon gives him another smile, softer this time, and squeezes his hand.

“Come on,” he says, and doesn’t let go as he leads Jooyeon out of the room.

3. Jiseok

The fact that Jiseok actually spent last night tidying their shared room instead of sleeping should be more of a surprise to Jooyeon, but he barely seems to notice it when Hyeongjun leads him into the room. Jiseok had even picked up all of Jooyeon’s laundry off the floor and put it in the basket, though he draws the line at actually taking it to the washing machine. 

Jooyeon, as it is, seems like he’s already getting a bit hazy, if the way he just stands uselessly behind Hyeongjun is anything to go by. It’s probably a lot to take in, this much fussing and the prospect of what comes after it, but Jooyeon is so insatiable in his quest for attention that he’s probably in heaven right now. 

He nods at Hyeongjun, who squeezes Jooyeon’s hands and lets them go, then gets brave enough to dart in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. Cute. Once it’s just the two of them, Jiseok moves to stand in front of Jooyeon, two fingers on the underside of his chin. He uses them to turn his head and inspect what Hyeongjun and Jungsu have done so far. He looks pretty like this. Jooyeon has always been handsome, and he’s been cute for content and at fansigns, but he really does look good like this. There’s a part of him that wonders what it would have been like if they’d done this with him when his hair was at its longest and he looked even prettier. Jiseok is sure that Jooyeon will eventually win in his war to get the stylists to let him grow it out again. 

He traces his thumb below the curve of Jooyeon’s bottom lip then drops his face, turning away towards the bed. There’s a box sitting on top of the covers, one that’s been hiding in his wardrobe for the last week and has never been far from his mind since it arrived at the dorm. It’s black and sturdy with some fancy lettering on the top and a ribbon keeping it shut. 

“Right, pyjamas off first then,” he says, and watches as Jooyeon just stares at him helplessly.

Okay, he’s going to have to do it all himself. If the point of this whole thing wasn’t to make Jooyeon feel all pampered and used, he’d suspect him of taking advantage of the situation. Or, maybe the fact that he’s got them all to agree so easily to his little idea is proof enough that he’s taking advantage of his sway over them all. Either way, it’s up to Jiseok to get him undressed. 

He has to bend down a little to reach the hem of Jooyeon’s massive jumper, and he starts to pull it off in one big tug before Jooyeon makes a panicked little noise as it forces his arms to raise. Jiseok stops, not entirely sure what’s wrong, and lowers the fabric where it was about to go over Jooyeon’s head, only to be confronted with those big shiny wet eyes, brows furrowed in concern. 

“What? We need to get this off, Jjoo, come on.” He tries to tug at the jumper again before Jooyeon makes another fussy little noise. 

“My hair ,” Jooyeon whines.

Ah, yeah. That makes sense. He’d thought Jooyeon was just being a brat for the sake of it. Maybe he isn’t the best at all of this gentle shit, he doesn’t really have the patience for it most of the time. He was never good at being gentle with his toys when he was a kid either, and his parents stopped buying him all the good stuff when he could never make them last more than a few months.

But Jooyeon is more delicate than that - porcelain, not plastic, he has to remember that. He’s not meant to treat him rough, or at least not yet. That bit can come later.

He’ll try harder. 

He adjusts his grip on the jumper and helps guide Jooyeon’s arms through the sleeves, then pauses while he thinks about how to save Jungsu’s hard work. The collar of the jumper is a bit loose on Jooyeon, probably stretched by Gunil, so he works his hands in and stretches it a bit more to keep it mostly off Jooyeon’s hair. 

It still catches a bit, and he dumps the fabric on the floor in favour of fixing the stray bits of hair gently and righting one of the bows where it’s gone a bit sideways. Not too bad. 

“Better?” He asks, and Jooyeon gives a small nod. 

“Right, pants now. Stay standing, okay?” 

Another nod from Jooyeon, and Jiseok grabs his hands and guides them onto his own shoulders. 

“Hold onto me so you don’t fall over.” 

This is all a bit weird for him, if he’s completely honest. He’s not exactly a stranger to thinking of Jooyeon in less than pure ways, and it’s definitely not the first time he’s taken Jooyeon’s clothes off either. But the whole doll thing isn’t something he understands yet. He doesn’t exactly need to understand it to be able to indulge Jooyeon’s wishes, but it makes it harder to get it exactly right. 

Treating him like a doll just isn’t something that comes naturally to Jiseok. He and Jooyeon have never been particularly gentle with each other, more concerned with getting to skin as soon as possible, and then racing to see who can get the other off quickest. There’s a reason they were the first to fall into being more than just friends, and there’s a reason Seungmin keeps comparing them to puppies play fighting every time they forget to close the door. 

The only thing that comes to him is to treat him like a kid, talking to him and narrating his actions, but the comparison really isn’t one that he’s comfortable with making when he’s stripping his best friend to dress him up like a plaything.

Maybe he’s overthinking this. 

He guides the pyjama pants over Jooyeon’s sharp little hips and tries to focus on what he’s doing. Jooyeon tightens his grip on his shoulders as Jiseok taps the underside of each knee in turn to make him step out of the pants so he can throw them in a pile with the jumper. 

He’s totally bare under the pants, no underwear at all. Maybe it was too much to handle something so close to his body after Jungsu waxed him, all that smooth pink skin throbbing in time with his pulse. As odd as it is to see, he can’t deny the little thrill of arousal that zings up his spine at the thought of touching him.

Jiseok swallows heavily and turns back to the box on the bed, slowly unties the rippon and pulls the lid off. There’s tissue paper covering the contents, and peeling it back reveals scraps of lace and fabric that cost more than he’d ever imagined, with so little to show for it. It’s definitely fancy, though. Before this, he hadn’t known that underwear could come in a box that wasn’t just a cardboard multipack from the store. 

The lace is a soft blush pink, more neutral than the colour on Jooyeon’s lips or his nails, but still close enough for it to look intentional. He reaches in and lifts out the knickers and holds them up for Jooyeon to get a good look, before he kneels down in front of him. Jooyeon’s hands find his shoulders again. This time, Jiseok runs his hands down Jooyeon’s calves to his ankle to get him to step into the underwear. One leg after the other, then slowly guided up Jooyeon’s perfectly smooth legs. He purposely lets his knuckles drag against the skin, grinning at the goosebumps that spring up in his wake. 

When he straightens up and settles the fabric over Jooyeon’s pretty little cock, the hands on his shoulders clench and he visibly shivers. Jiseok’s grin gets bigger. He purposely fusses with the lace just to make him do it again. They look perfect on him, the peachy cotton and pink lace trim. They would probably be too much for anything else, something no doubt made to be taken off again shortly after, but they just look right on him somehow. His cock doesn’t even make that much of an imprint in them, and his balls are settled just right. He really could be fooled into thinking Jooyeon was perfectly smooth underneath them. Hmm . Maybe he’s starting to get onboard with the whole doll thing after all. 

Jooyeon’s eyes are already starting to get the glassy haze that tells them he’s started to move towards whatever headspace he slips into when they play with him like this. His gaze is lost. He stares at nothing over Jiseok’s shoulders. 

Jiseok isn’t even done yet. The bra is still waiting in the box. It takes him a few tries to get it open — the little hooks are far more fiddly than he thought they’d be — but he gets it eventually. He’d purposely bought one that was totally soft. They all care more about the way it looks than any need for support.

He lifts each of Jooyeon’s hands off his shoulders in turn and guides them through the holes, then works the thin straps up his arms and into place over his chest.

“Turn for me, dolly,” he says, and pushes at Jooyeon’s hip until he gets the idea. The bra is harder to fasten than it was to open, and he doesn’t understand how anyone is meant to do this themselves behind their back without help. Good thing Jooyeon has Jiseok  to struggle with it for him; he’d be useless at this. Jiseok puts his hand back on Jooyeon’s hand to spin him around again, and Jooyeon complies without further instruction. 

He’s really a sight for sore eyes. His little pigeon chest will never be enough to fill out anything more than a flat shirt, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not really what this is about, anyway. The bra sits mostly flush to his skin, the pink lace drawing out the rosy undertones of Jooyeon’s skin as he flushes under the attention. There’s still a little room in the cups, even with it being as small as Jiseok could find that would still fit him, but they can definitely get away with it. 

“There, you look perfect. Do you want to see yourself?” He asks. 

Jooyeon seems to struggle to process the question. He must really be getting lost inside his own head. Jiseok doesn’t want him to think too hard, doesn’t want him to pull himself out of wherever it is that he’s gone, so he takes Jooyeon’s hands and pulls him towards the door and decides for him. 

“Never mind. Dolls don’t actually know what they look like anyway, do they? All that matters is that you’re already so pretty for us.” 

He feels Jooyeon’s hand clench in his as he drags him along behind him on the way to Seungmin’s room, but he doesn’t speak. Dolls don’t speak, and Jooyeon is doing such a good job at being a good doll. 

4. Seungmin

The dress hanging up inside the door of Seungmin’s wardrobe is gaudy. It’s the only way he can really describe it even though he doesn’t necessarily mean it in a bad way. It’s just a lot, is the thing. Ribbons and ruffles and lace and God knows what else. It’s definitely one of those lolita kinds of dresses that seem wildly impractical for everyday wear, but as soon as he’d seen it online, he’d known it would be perfect. Exactly the kind of thing an overdressed porcelain doll would wear to sit pretty on a shelf and never have to move. 

He’d had to pay extra for express shipping to get it with enough time to make sure it would be okay, but that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is how it makes Jooyeon feel when he puts it on. Seungmin can’t wait to see it on him. He can’t wait to take it off, either.

It’s been hanging up in the wardrobe since he got it, partly to keep it a secret from prying eyes and sticky fingers, but also to try and keep it from getting wrinkled. He’s taken it into the bathroom with him when he’d showered to try and steam out the creases it had from being wrapped up to ship, since he wasn’t brave or stupid enough to attempt to iron something so complicated. Definitely not while living in a dorm with people who have little to no impulse control and who can’t handle being alone for more than thirty seconds. He’d never be able to keep it under wraps. Hyeongjun is the only one who has seen it, but not in full. It was partly unavoidable, what with them sharing the room, but he’d also shown him a corner of the skirt to help him decide which colour of nail varnish he should buy. He didn’t mind giving him a glance - Hyeongjun is the most well behaved of all of them, and Seungmin likes to reward good behaviour. It’s a secret to the rest of them, though, despite their repeated attempts to try and wheedle information out of him. 

Jiseok drags Jooyeon into the room without knocking and leaves him wobbling on the fluffy rug next to the bunk beds. He doesn’t even say hello or goodbye, just throws a wink to Seungmin over his shoulder and shuts the door too hard on his way out. Horrid little brat, Seungmin thinks, with reluctant fondness. He really is a terrible influence on Jooyeon, but they’re both as bad as each other most of the time. 

Not today, though. Seungmin looks him up and down, taking his time to really appreciate the work that’s already gone into Jooyeon’s special day. He looks gorgeous, all wrapped up in peach and pink like a present to all of them. His nipples are pebbling in the cool air of the room, visible through the thin fabric of the bralette. Seungmin wants to touch them. He wants to make them red and sore so that every time he moves he can feel his clothes brushing against them. But he doesn’t. They haven’t started playing yet, after all, and unlike some, he does actually have self control. The wait will only make it sweeter when he finally goes get a chance to play with him. 

Seungmin opens his wardrobe and pulls out the little bundle of pink and cream, leaving the dress hanging up out of sight for now. He crouches down in front of Jooyeon, on one knee like he’s about to propose, and gently runs his hand down the back of Jooyeon’s calf to his ankle. Part of him just wants to feel Jooyeon’s smooth skin where Seungmin is only used to seeing hair, and partly he wants to make sure he doesn’t startle Jooyeon out of his fuzzy headspace when he lifts the ankle he’s holding until his foot is resting on his thigh in his lap. 

It’s like something out of Cinderella, he thinks. Prince Charming kneeling in front of Cinderella to return his glass slipper, except Seungmin is picking up one of the pretty socks he’s bought for Jooyeon and about to put it on. It’s definitely not the first time any of them have called him a princess, and he’s sure he’s not even the first person to think about it just this morning. If he is then he certainly won’t be the last, especially when they all know the way Jooyeon’s cheeks flush happily every time they do it. 

He gathers the sock up between each hand and slides it onto his toes, then raises his heel with a hand so he can slip the sock up his foot. They’re just a little pair of ankle socks, soft white cotton with a baby pink lace trim around them. There’s little hearts in the lace that he thinks Jooyeon will love when they’re pointed out to him, but now’s not the time for that. He pulls the socks up then folds down the top so that the lace flares out around his ankle. It makes his feet look dainty, small and perfect, like they were crafted by hand. 

He gently lowers Jooyeon’s foot back to the floor then repeats the process with the other one, making sure the lace is perfect around his ankle. He had considered stockings for this. They’re usually the go-to for sexy dress up, but he’d thought better of it in the end. If they’re both being honest, Jooyeon doesn’t really have the thighs to hold up stockings, and he wasn’t sure if a garter belt would get in the way. He might be into fashion, but he has as much experience with lingerie as the rest of them. Then he’d found the little ankle socks, and thought they’d be perfect. Maybe next time he can find Jooyeon some knee socks to try. Already he’s certain that there will be a next time, even if it’s just the dressing up part. 

He puts Jooyeon’s other foot back on the floor and stands up again. He turns to the wardrobe to pull out the dress. It hits him then that, as soon as the dress is on, he has nothing else to do for Jooyeon, and will have to send him on his way to Gunil. Jungsu and Hyeongjun both spent a good while with them, and even though Jiseok only had the underwear to put on for him, he still got to strip Jooyeon out of his sleep clothes. 

Well, he’ll just have to make the most of it. Savour dressing their lovely boy up just like he asked them to. 

The dress buttons up at the back — far nicer than the cheaper ones with a zip that would make the material sit oddly on Jooyeon’s frame — and he’d undone them before Jooyeon came so he  wouldn’t be standing around too long in the cold with nothing on. Seungmin notices with some satisfaction that he’s not making any move to warm himself up, even though there’s goosebumps up and down his arms. He’s just standing there, waiting for Seungmin to dress him. Best not to keep him waiting, then.

He guides Jooyeon’s hand to his shoulder and holds the dress open for him to step into. He could probably get it on over his head, but he doesn’t want to mess up his hair after Jungsu had put so much effort into it. 

Jooyeon steps into it with only a few little wobbles, then Seungmin carefully guides his hands through the sleeves and pulls it up around his shoulders. The dress only comes to Jooyeon’s mid-thigh and leaves miles of milky smooth leg on show between the hem and his little socks. Knee socks would definitely look good, but there’s something to be said for that much skin on show without anything scandalous visible. Entirely innocent and proper, except for the fact that he isn’t innocent at all, especially not when he thinks about what they’re going to be doing to him very soon. 

He slips around behind Jooyeon to fasten up the dress. He patiently slips all of the little buttons into their loops and makes sure to ghost his fingers over Jooyeon’s soft skin as much as seems plausibly accidental. He works up the curve of Jooyeon’s spine until he gets to the final button, then settles the collar properly and smoothes it down. God, he looks so pretty, even just from the back. He doesn’t want to give him away just yet. He wants to look at him a little more. 

When he moves back to Jooyeon’s front, he fusses with the dress, making sure the petticoat underneath sits right and that the skirt hasn’t wrinkled or ridden up anywhere. Then he has an idea. 

“Do you want to see yourself in the mirror, darling?” He asks, and takes Jooyeon’s hand to pull him towards the open wardrobe without waiting for an answer. Not that he expects one anyway, or that whatever Jooyeon said would matter much. 

He nudes the door open a little wider until the mirror is facing towards them and Seungmin pushes him forward until Jooyeon can see himself. 

“There, see how lovely you look.” 

Jooyeon stares, and Seungmin can’t stop himself from snaking his arms around his waist from behind. The flare of the skirt gives him a far more pronounced waist than he normally has, and it feels so right to hold him like this. He lets his hands creep up over the bodice, feeling the ruffles and bows until he gets to his chest, where his tits should be if he had any. The way the dress sits gives a slight illusion of mass there, they would be small pert little things, but he can feel the flatness of Jooyeon’s chest when he squeezes. Jooyeon twitches a little when he grazes his nipples, even through multiple layers of fabric.

He presses himself up against Jooyeon’s back fully, leans in to press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw and the shell of his ear. 

“Our pretty girl. What are we going to do with you, hmm?” 

Jooyeon doesn’t answer, but he does whimper softly under his breath. That’s answer enough.

He doesn’t have any shoes for Jooyeon to wear. Dolls don’t need shoes, not really. It’s not like they can walk on their own, and Jooyeon isn’t going anywhere today. If they need to move him anywhere they’ll be carrying him around. 

Oh, that’s a thought. He looks again at Jooyeon’s frilly little socks. If he starts walking around the dorm now, his lovely new socks will get all dirty on the bottom, and no one likes it when their dolls get dirty. 

He leaves Jooyeon looking at himself in the mirror with a soft whisper telling him to stay where he is, then pokes his head out of his bedroom and shouts for Gunil. 

It doesn’t take long for Gunil to poke his head around the door, halfway in the room like he’s not sure if he’s meant to come in or not. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, and Seungmin smiles. 

“Perfect, hyung. But it’s time for you to take our little doll and she’ll get dirty if she walks on the floor. You should carry her.” 

Gunil looks at Jooyeon, still facing the mirror but probably watching Gunil in the doorway over his shoulder. A small smile spreads over his face as he steps into the room fully. Seungmin half expects him to flex his arms just to show off the size of biceps, the way he does every other time they ask him to lift something heavy. Thankfully, he foregoes the usual theatrics this time. 

Instead, he steps up behind Jooyeon and plants a hand in the small of his back just like a gentleman. He leans in to whisper something to Jooyeon before he sweeps Jooyeon’s legs up and gathers him into his arms like he weighs nothing. 

The sight of them stirs something in Seungmin’s gut, fondness and something darker, and he holds the door open for them. Gunil nudges Jooyeon through it sideways, so carefully it almost hurts. Like he’s carrying something precious and fragile that could be damaged with the slightest knock. 

Well, Seungmin supposes, he really is carrying something precious. 

5. Gunil

Jooyeon barely moves when Gunil picks him up. He doesn’t even put an arm around his neck to hold on. Normally he supposes that would be a sign of trust, that Jooyeon knows Gunil won’t drop him, but more than anything Gunil knows that Jooyeon is getting so deep in his head that so many of his normal reflexes just aren’t happening. Because right now, he’s not Jooyeon. Gunil doesn’t think he’s entirely lost in the doll mindset yet, but he’s well on the way. 

He carries Jooyeon into his and Jungsu’s room. Jungsu has already left for the day, dressed and out to the gym before going to the company for lessons. It’s fortunate, because Gunil doesn’t much feel like trying to get Jooyeon onto the top bunk to work on his part of the preparations. 

There’s a brand new bottle of lube on the desk, and once he’s carefully lowered Jooyeon onto Jungsu’s bed he goes to grab it. It’s thicker than he normally uses, but it will last longer. Jooyeon needs to be ready for anything they want to do to him today. He needs to be nice and open and ready to receive without much prep. So, it’s Gunil’s job to make sure that happens. 

“Let’s get you ready then, princess,” he says, running his hands up Jooyeon’s legs to pull them apart, “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s easy enough to move his skirt out of the way, but the underwear presents a little more of a problem. It would probably be practical to just take them off, but it seems a shame when he’s only had them on for a little while. And he looks so sweet in them, the lace around the edges framing his little cock. It might be Gunil’s favourite thing about Jooyeon, beyond all of the countless other things he loves about him, the way that his cock barely peeks out of Gunil’s hand even when it’s fully hard. In Hyeongjun’s hands it disappears entirely, hidden behind elegant spidery fingers. 

Maybe he can just pull them down a little, just enough to get at Jooyeon’s hole to start opening him up. He moves Jooyeon’s legs again, pushing them together and up towards his chest so he can pull the back of the panties over his ass and leaves them bunched up around the tops of his thighs. 

Perfect. Jooyeon lets him move his limbs around without the slightest bit of resistance, and he looks far more obscene like this than if he’d taken the underwear off entirely. Jooyeon’s feet sit together resting neatly on the underside of his thighs in his pretty little socks. Gunil gives into the impulse to leave forward a little and bites gently at Jooyeon’s toes through the cotton, just enough pressure to be felt but not enough to hurt. 

Jooyeon gives only a slight twitch, but otherwise remains still and staring vacantly up at the ceiling. God, he’s beautiful like this. Pliant, serene, completely surrendered to the will of whoever is touching him at any given time. And he’s all for them. 

Gunil squirts a bit of lube out onto his finger and rubs it around Jooyeon’s little pink hole, already starting to work his index in a little more on every swipe. Jooyeon can take his finger no problem, but Gunil doesn’t want to rush this too much. He wants to enjoy it before he has to leave for practice; he doesn’t know how long it’s going to be before he gets the chance to come back to the dorm to see his little toy. 

When he adds a second finger alongside the first he pushes Jooyeon’s legs further up. He’s practically folding him in half, his dress falling around him where it’s pulled in at his waist. It’s probably for the best, he thinks. He doesn’t want to get any lube on it before anyone else has a chance to see him wearing it. He wants to keep him nice and clean for as long as he can. The others can be the ones to mess him up first – he doesn’t mind. 

He’s already started treating him like a doll anyway, he thinks. Just moving him around, doing as he pleases, barely acknowledging him beyond his hands on Jooyeon’s limp body. He isn’t technically a doll yet. He won’t be until Gunil takes him out to the lounge where he’ll be staying for the day. Until then they’re just getting him ready and prepped. But Jooyeon is already so fuzzy and malleable, not even making any noises as Gunil crooks and spreads his fingers in his hole, even though they all know from experience that Jooyeon is always loud, and that the bedroom is not an exception to the rule. 

Clearly, it’s enough to flip something in Gunil’s brain too, taking him from Jooyeon into a Jooyeon-shaped object. Something to be used and played with, something to be owned. 

Since he’s going to be the last person to see him before they officially start their little game they’re playing anyway, he supposes there’s no harm in getting going a little early. 

The lounge is where they’d all agreed was best to do this, behind the curtain Jungsu and Hyeongjun used to use to sleep. It’s somewhere where they’ll all have easy access to him as soon as they get back, but which still gives him a modicum of privacy and isolation. 

Gunil adds a third finger and another generous squirt of lube directly into his hole, feeling a bolt of heat go through him when Jooyeon doesn’t even twitch at the sudden cold that hits him from the lube. He just continues to breathe shallowly and stays folded up where Gunil holds him as he fucks his fingers into him. 

Honestly Jooyeon probably doesn’t even need three fingers. Hyeongjun is the only other person who would need him to be stretched out fully. But Gunil knows that Hyeongjun hasn’t actually fucked anyone in his life, so it’s not actually necessary. He highly doubts that he’d use this as an opportunity to have his first time. No one else is big enough to the point where a plug wouldn’t keep him sufficiently stretched. He would only need minimal prep if they want to fuck him. Gunil would definitely have to stretch him with more than two fingers, more than three, if he’s being honest, but he already knows that he’ll be taking his time with Jooyeon. He’ll open up his little dolly ready for his cock later on, get him nice and worked up before he slides in. 

He watches his fingers sink into Jooyeon’s pretty pink hole, admiring Jungsu’s attention to detail in his waxing job. He must have been thorough, if the noises Gunil heard from their room last night were any indication. Maybe he’ll offer to help out next time. He quite enjoys the thought of seeing Jooyeon with tears in his eyes from the sting of it, wiggling away and having to be held down so that Jungsu can get on with it. 

His phone lights up with a random notification on the covers next to Jooyeon. He sighs. He’s going to have to get going soon, if he wants to get breakfast on the way to the company without being late. But he has one last present for Jooyeon before he wraps things up. 

There’s a little box sitting on his nightstand. He wipes his fingers on the bed cover as he pulls them out of Jooyeon to reach for it. Inside is a plug, sitting pretty, nestled in bright pink satin. There’s a weight to it, enough that Jooyeon will be feeling it every time he moves. Well, Gunil thinks, every time someone else makes him move. 

He rubs it around Jooyeon’s entrance to pick up some of the excess lube and then pushes it in slowly, really drawing out the stretch until Jooyeon’s hole swallows it greedily. It nestles perfectly against his skin, so pretty. The heart shaped gem on the end of it, the same colour as the satin in the box, catches the light as Jooyeon breathes. 

He’d known that was what he wanted to buy for this before he’d even considered any of the other options on the site he pulled up. A princess plug for their little princess dolly, pretty but not as pretty as him. 

Gunil carefully pulls the knickers back up over Jooyeon’s ass and stands up from the bed, bending his knees to pull Jooyeon back into the bridal carry. It’s even easier than the first time, Jooyeon already ready for him and his dress still hiked up around his waist. He doesn’t bother trying to preserve Jooyeon’s modesty. It’s only a few steps out to the lounge. They’ve all seen him in far worse states than this, and no doubt it won’t be long until he’s well on the way to looking like that again. 

The lounge has been rearranged a little – he and Seungmin shoved the coffee table into the corner of the room and  pulled the sofa out into a bed. They’ve somehow never actually used it before. It was there when they moved in, and they didn’t really have a reason to use it, but now it’s perfect. The curtains are already partially drawn around it. Gunil shoulders his way through to gently lower Jooyeon onto the mattress. 

The dress settles under him perfectly, and Gunil spends a minute or two arranging Jooyeon against the cushions. He brushes his fingers lightly through his hair to make sure it sits properly around his face, smooths out the skirt of his dress until it flares around him. All ready to play with, ready to be used. Their perfect little doll, all for them. 

—— 

Officially Jooyeon is taking a maintenance day to rest up, but it’s a normal day for the rest of them. Vocal lessons, group practice study sessions. They all need to go to the gym at some point, Hyeongjun needs a haircut, Jiseok needs to go into the city to get more strings for his acoustic guitar. They usually come and go, drifting back to the dorm if there’s nothing pressing between the stuff in their schedules. Normally it’s a chance to get a bit of peace before heading back into windowless studios and stuffy rooms, but now there’s something special waiting for them when they come back. Something to make it so much sweeter.

—— 

1. Jiseok 

The amount of time between the door closing behind everyone and the sound of steps shuffling towards the little curtained area is far less than he expected. There’s a soft little swish of the curtain opening and being pulled back into place, then Jiseok appears in the corner of his eye. Jooyeon doesn’t move his head to see him better, he doesn’t move his eyes either. He stares dead ahead, tracking Jiseok’s movement in his peripheral vision. Dolls don’t move on their own, so neither does he. 

Jiseok climbs onto the bed beside him and Jooyeon lets himself slump into it as the mattress moves under Jiseok’s weight. He stays there for minutes that stretch out far longer than he should while Jiseok looks him over, occasionally reaching out to touch. He feels exposed, on display. It’s entirely different to the way it feels to stand on stage with hundreds of people watching him. On stage he has his armour – the mic and his bass, his voice and his members – but now he just feels small and useless. It’s perfect. 

“Decided the music shop could wait a while,” Jiseok says while he swings one leg over Jooyeon’s rib cage to straddle him, “I had something to take care of here first.” 

Fingers reach out to curl a strand of hair behind his ear, gentle, then they grab his jaw to jerk his head back. Jooyeon can already feel himself stirring in his knickers, and this is the first time he’s actually been touched since the game actually started. Something tells him this is either the best idea he’s ever had or the worst one. 

He fights to keep his eyes focussed on the faded design of Jiseoks shirt as the hand not currently gripping his jaw goes down to undo his flies and shove his jeans down around his thighs. 

“I just couldn’t leave without breaking you in. I wanted to be the first one to get to play with our new toy.” 

His boxers get shoved down as well and then Jiseok is fisting his cock, hard and already leaking at the tip. Jooyeon can see the light catching the wetness there, even as he continues staring at Jiseok’s chest. 

Jiseok shuffles himself closer, trapping Jooyeon’s arms between his legs either side of him, and rests his weight down on his chest once he’s close enough that Jooyeon can feel the heat of his skin on his face. 

“Time to take care of you, baby. Open wide.” Jiseok’s voice is low, a little scratchy, loud in the quiet of the dorm. 

Jooyeon wants him in his mouth, but he doesn’t move. He’s worried about keeping control of himself as the game continues, but for now he’s doing pretty good at forcing himself to stay still and not respond to anything that happens. 

Jiseok huffs out a little laugh through his nose, but he’s too close for Jooyeon to be able to see his face. The hand holding his jaw shifts, and Jiseok’s thumb reaches up to gently trace his lips before it pulls down on the jut of his chin. Jooyeon pushes his tongue forward then lets his mouth fall open. Maybe that’s cheating, but he wants to taste Jiseok, and as long as no one actually sees him move he can probably get away with little things. 

The thumb on his jaw stays there, holding it open, and Jiseok holds his dick over Jooyeon’s mouth as he starts to stroke himself in brisk sharp movements. He’s always gotten really wet when he jerks off, precome dribbling down his shaft and over his knuckles – it’s one of Jooyeon’s favourite things about fucking around with him. Jooyeon can feel his mouth watering at the thought of it, waiting for it to drop into his open mouth. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jiseok pants, working his cock faster, “wanna use you.” 

Jooyeon’s mouth waters more as Jiseok pushes forward and slides his dick over his tongue, dragging it back and forth slowly. It’s not quite like when Jiseok normally fucks his mouth, but that in itself makes it feel even hotter. He can’t move, he can’t close his mouth around it or shove himself down onto Jiseok’s cock to choke himself, he can’t even swallow the spit pooling in his mouth. He just has to lie there and take it. 

Jiseok keeps a hand on his dick, pushing through the squeeze of his fist and then deeper into Jooyeon’s mouth. His legs are shaking a little around Jooyeon’s torso from the strain of keeping himself up and keeping his hips moving so slowly. It’s intoxicating. 

The steady slide of his dick feels oddly soothing, and Jooyeon can feel his breathing and his brain both slowing to match the rhythm as the saliva starts to spill from the corners of his mouth. It should be gross, and maybe it is, but he doesn’t care. He can feel it running down the column of his neck and chilling against his skin. If he keeps drooling, then the collar of his dress is going to get messy, even though he’s barely had it on for any time at all. 

Part of him is a little sad at the thought of getting dirty so soon, but he supposes it was never going to stay clean for long. That’s kind of the point of this whole thing, after all. He just hopes the dress can be washed – he wants to wear it again. 

After a while Jiseok tips forward and drops Jooyeon’s chin so that he can catch himself on the back of the sofa behind Jooyeon’s head. Jooyeon locks his jaw to keep it open, but Jiseok’s cock shoving into the back of his mouth would keep it there anyway. 

The new position is even better, he feels trapped by Jiseok as he rocks his hips into Jooyeon’s mouth and forces more spit down over his chin. He can smell him, can feel the warmth of him so close to his face, all aftershave and clean cotton and skin. His shirt is tickling against Jooyeon’s cheeks when he thrusts forward but he barely notices. He’s too busy savouring the feeling of Jiseok hot and thick in his mouth and in his throat, the taste of his precome on his tongue. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Feels so real, baby. Gonna come soon.” The strain in his voice is obvious to Jooyeon, the way it gets tight as he gets close to the edge. 

He wants it. He wants Jiseok to come down his throat so bad. It doesn’t take much longer for him to get his wish, when Jiseok shoves in one last time and pants out his release as it fills Jooyeon’s mouth just like he wanted. 

Jiseok stays still for a moment after he finishes coming, just breathing before he pulls out of Jooyeon’s mouth and climbs off the sofa to pull himself together. Even without moving his eyes Jooyeon can see the sheen of wetness coating Jiseok’s dick, practically soaking with it as he tucks it back into his boxers. That can’t be a nice feeling, he thinks, but then again Jiseok is kinda weird sometimes. Maybe he likes it. 

Jooyeon lies there motionless throughout it all, drool and cum held in his mouth and threatening to continue leaking down his face. Once he’s done his fly back up and tucked his t-shirt into the front of his jeans, Jiseok leans back over Jooyeon and gently pushes his mouth closed. 

“Want you to swallow for me,” he says, voice still low and rumbling. 

Jooyeon hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should really be moving that much with someone watching him. But Jiseok is telling him to do it, so maybe that makes it okay. 

He swallows. Jiseok smiles and bends down to plant a hard kiss on his closed mouth.

“Pretty dolly, that was perfect. Spoiled your lovely lipstick a little, though.” There’s no remorse in his voice. “Oh well.” 

He leans in and kisses Jooyeon again, then swipes his thumb through the track of drool on his chin and sucks it off into his own mouth as he stands.  

He doesn’t look back as he walks out of Jooyeon’s little curtained off area, and he doesn’t say anything else. Jooyeon lies there, listening to him moving around the dorm, putting his shoes up and picking up his keys, then swinging his backpack over his shoulder and closing the door behind him. 

The dorm is empty again. Nothing left but a toy, still lying where it was left by the last person to play with it. 

2. Seungmin

Seungmin comes to play with him a little while later. Jooyeon thinks he might have just been to the gym. His hair is a bit damp and curls around his ears where it’s getting longer. The gym is in the opposite direction from the dorm than the company building is, so it makes sense for him to come back if he’s passing anyway. 

He slips around the curtain and settles himself on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and chin resting on his hands, just watching. Jooyeon doesn’t move, he barely even breathes. It’s one thing to stay still while someone else is touching him or moving around, but being stared at is different entirely. Seungmin will be able to see even the slightest motion, and Jooyeon doesn’t think he would let him get away with it. 

It feels like he watches for hours, but Jooyeon knows it can’t have been that long. Eventually Seungmin seems to be satisfied with Jooyeon’s dedication to the game and he shuffles forward until he’s sitting next to him.

Seungmin sighs when he looks down, as if he’s noticing the state of the dress for the first time. It’s definitely rucked up and creased from Jiseok being on top of him, but Jooyeon can’t actually see how bad it is. He can, however, feel the dampness around the collar, and can still feel the tackiness of dried spit on his skin. 

He reaches out to smooth down the dress, pulling it straight and trying his best to get rid of some of the creases. He’s probably not very successful. 

“Look at this. I leave my toys out for five minutes and come back to find someone’s already messed it up,” he sighs again, fussing at the collar, “some people don’t have any respect for others’ property.”

Jooyeon feels his stomach lurch. Property. It. It should make him feel bad. It’s so demeaning . But instead it makes him want to whine and beg for Seungmin’s approval. 

But he won’t. He can’t. And if he did, he certainly wouldn’t get it. 

Seungmin reaches into his pocket to take out his phone. Jooyeon hears the little noise it makes as he unlocks it. 

“Such a shame we didn’t take any photos when it was still pretty and nice,” he mutters, leaning back and taking a photo of Jooyeon laid out on the mattress. 

He takes more from different angles, looking at Jooyeon only through the lens of the camera. 

“All of Hyeongjun’s hard work on the makeup already spoiled too. What a waste.”

It’s not his fault, Jooyeon knows. And yet Seungmin’s tone makes him feel like it is. His fault for being used, his fault for being an inanimate object. He’s getting hard again just from thinking about how much he wants to beg forgiveness for it. 

Seungmin leans in closer to take pictures of Jooyeon’s face, documenting the smudged lipstick and the tracks running from the corner of his mouth. Then he ghosts his hand over Jooyeon’s eyes and he closes them, reflexively hoping that it’s the right thing to do. 

“At least the eye makeup is mostly intact. Junnie did such a good job, it would really be a crime not to preserve it.” 

Once it seems that he’s satisfied with the pictures, Seungmin lets himself drop back onto the mattress and he pulls Jooyeon’s feet into his lap one by one to pull up his socks where they’ve probably drooped a little. He’s so slow and measured when he touches Jooyeon, like the hands of a collector handling something precious. It should be at odds with the way he talks about Jooyeon as an object, but it just feels right. He really does feel precious under Seungmin’s hands. 

It lulls him into a false sense of security, and he’s so startled by Seungmin suddenly grabbing his ankles and yanking him down the bed that he almost lets out a squeak. It’s a close thing. He hopes the sharp exhale of breath is covered up by the rustle of his dress moving over the covers. 

He can feel knees, hard under his hips, tilting them up, with his legs splayed around Seungmin’s body. He’s half in his lap and half on the bed, tugged around like it’s nothing at all. Like he’s nothing at all.

He can feel cool air on his thighs, and he knows the dress has ridden up enough to expose his underwear. Seungmin takes his time inspecting this too, even though he’s already seen it this morning. Teasing fingers run over the lace edges of the knickers, just enough sensation to make Jooyeon’s skin break out in goosebumps. He’s still not used to the way everything feels without the layer of downy hair dulling the sensations. He tries his hardest to suppress a shiver as Seungmin’s fingers trace the outline of his half-hard cock, focussing on the ceiling above him instead. It’s all he can see now that Seungmin has pulled him off the cushions that were propping him up, and it makes every touch feel twice as good. But it means it’s also twice as hard to stop himself from reacting because he can’t anticipate anything. 

It’s like being blindfolded, but somehow even harder. 

He feels fingers slip under the elastic over his hip and then his underwear is pulled to the side and Seungmin pulls in a deeply satisfied breath.

“Oh, what a lovely surprise. They really do think of everything when they make dolls like this, don’t they? All ready for me to play with, just waiting for me.” 

He feels fingers creeping down behind his balls, down to where the plug is nestled between his cheeks. It’s far harder to stop himself from moving this time, as Seungmin pulls at the plug just enough to feel the pressure of it pulling at his hole, but not enough to make the muscle give up its grip on the toy. 

Fuck , it feels good. So good that his eyelids flutter shut for a moment involuntarily when he feels the plug push in deeper. Seungmin pulls at it again, fucking him with it torturously slow. He opens his eyes as soon as he realises what he’s done, hoping that Seungmin is focussing on what he’s doing rather than Jooyeon’s face. He wants to be good, after all. 

Seungmin fucks him for a little longer, then pulls at it until Jooyeon’s hole finally lets go and the plug slides out of him. Hands push the skirt of his dress higher, out of the way and safe from any risk of getting messed up further. There’s a click of what he assumes is a bottle of lube. He has no idea where the bottle even was, but the thought is chased out of his head by the sudden intense chill dripping over his taint and running down his crack. He can’t stop himself from flinching this time, even with the slight warning of the cap opening. It’s not a lot – he’s trying so hard to stay still, after all – but his hips are in Seungmin’s lap. There’s no way he wouldn’t have felt it. 

A sharp sudden sting spreads over his cheek, enough to make his eyes water. 

Seungmin slapped him. 

“Dolls don’t move, do they? I could have sworn I’d just seen this one move, but I must have been mistaken.” His voice is hard, devoid of any of the fondness he’d had for Jooyeon earlier.

He has to swallow down the tears in his eyes, blinking them away as best he can before they fall. He’s not as successful as he’d like. One fat tear rolls out from the corner of his right eye and down into his hairline. He hopes it hasn’t ruined the eyeliner Hyeongjun spent so much time getting perfect. 

Seungmin sits back and readjusts Jooyeon’s legs in his lap, apparently satisfied with his warning.

He deserved it, anyway. He isn’t supposed to move at all. He’s supposed to be a good doll, he wants to be a good doll. Wants to be good for Seungmin so that he goes back to saying nice things about Jooyeon that make his stomach clench in pleasure. 

Two fingers slide into him and Jooyeon feels himself settle again, happy that Seungmin still wants to play with him. Seungmin wiggles them around until he finds the right angle to hit Jooyeon’s prostate, knowing without any reaction that he’s found it. It’s probably muscle memory by now. Seungmin loves to finger Jooyeon until he’s begging to come. 

He’s relentless once he gets the angle, just like he always is, and Jooyeon barely has a chance to breathe as Seungmin fucks him on his fingers. He hits his prostate every time, wet noises filling the room as he varies the speed so that Jooyeon can’t settle into it and has to tense every muscle in his body to stop himself from moving or making a noise. 

Then Seungmin adds a third finger and changes it up. He goes between fucking him and just moving his fingers inside Jooyeon, crooking them and stealing any breath Jooyeon has left. 

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t react except for clenching his fists in the duvet under him. His dress is covering them up so he can get away with it, but he knows it’s bad, knows it’s cheating. He knows it’s even worse so soon after Seungmin had to remind him not to move, but it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it. He can barely think. But he’s doing his best.  

There’s a weird noise that he can’t focus on enough to pin down, some kind of clicking or whirring. Every time he tries to identify it, Seungmin’s fingers distract him. He lets it go. It doesn’t matter anyway. All he has to do is lie here – anything else is irrelevant. 

His orgasm hits him suddenly when Seungmin crooks his fingers just right, and he comes all over his pretty underwear. It’s a shame to get them so messy, especially after Seungmin had been so upset that he was dirty. But Seungmin doesn’t say anything.Maybe it’s ok as long as he’s the one making his doll messy. 

“Mm, there we go. Such a good doll, so realistic.” Seungmin smiles. 

Jooyeon can’t see him, but he can hear it in his voice. It makes him feel like he’s swallowed sunshine, like his belly is being filled with warmth. He’s been good, he’s made Seungmin happy, even though he fucked up earlier. Everything is fine again. 

It’s only when Seungmin has replaced his fingers with the plug that Jooyeon realises what the noises he heard were. 

Seungmin is taking more photos, hovering over him with his phone, looking for the best angles. 

Jooyeon’s stomach clenches again, the warm feeling getting even brighter. Seungmin always takes photos of things he thinks are pretty. Art on the street, pretty flowers, the sky, cute animals he finds. And Jooyeon is pretty enough that he wants to capture it and keep it forever, even after making more of a mess. 

“Can’t wait to show everyone what a lovely little toy we have. I’m sure they’ll all be very jealous,” Seungmin says, standing up and flipping through his camera roll. “Maybe they’ll want to come over and play with it too. But we don’t like to share with others.” 

He locks his phone and puts it away, then leans over to pull Jooyeon’s underwear back into place. It smears the rapidly cooling cum over his skin in a way that he’s not quite sure if he likes or not. But it doesn’t really matter what he likes, not right now. 

Seungmin doesn’t pull Jooyeon’s dress back down or move him at all. He just leaves him exactly where he is as he ducks back around the curtain and goes down the hall, presumably to his own room. 

Jooyeon lies there, legs splayed and feeling a fresh wave of goosebumps spreading over his skin when a sudden breeze hits him from the AC unit. 

He doesn’t move, not even to shiver in the chill. 

3. Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun slips his way into the dorm so quietly that Jooyeon doesn’t even know he’s there until he’s in front of the bed looking down at him. Jooyeon is exactly where Seungmin left him, underwear exposed and staring up at the ceiling. 

He follows his movement around the bed through his peripheral vision until Hyeongjun is sitting next to him. He takes his time looking at Jooyeon, like he's focusing on each detail individually and giving it his full attention. His hand follows his progress, small brushes of delicate fingers that tell Jooyeon what he's looking at. 

He takes a breath and opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but the sound of the front door opening cuts him off. Hyeongjun's head snaps up towards the noise and he goes still. Hyeongjun is good at staying still, freezing like a rabbit catching the scent of a predator in the wild. He would probably be better at this than Jooyeon is, but he's a real boy and Jooyeon isn't. Jooyeon is just a doll.

The door closes again and Jooyeon realises he doesn't actually know who it is – he doesn't recognize the footsteps. It's obviously someone with access to the building so he's not too worried, other than being incredibly thankful for the curtain saving him from an awkward conversation. 

A phone rings with an unfamiliar tone, answered by a more familiar voice. 

He has to fight against a heavy gulp. It’s their manager. Fuck , he isn’t supposed to be here, not when no one has any kind of schedule. He should be at the company, with the rest of them.

Jooyeon lets out a slow breath and listens to the one-sided conversation to see why he’s here. He’s speaking to Seungmin, apparently, asking him where to find something that Seungmin has apparently forgotten and now needs. He thinks it might be a notebook, which would make sense since he’s seen Seungmin working on lyrics lately. There’s some nondescript noises, hums and “yeahs”, then his voice fades as he walks off towards the bedrooms. 

Hyeongjun unfreezes once the immediate danger has passed and turns back to Jooyeon to resume his careful examination. He looks at Jooyeon’s face and leans over with a little frown gathering between his brows. Fingers trace around his lips then up to his eyes to follow the path of the tear that escaped earlier. He guesses it must have smudged the eye makeup after all, because Hyeongjun licks the pad of his thumb then wipes at the skin. The frown doesn’t ease. Maybe it’s a lost cause. 

He gives up and shuffles a little closer, his side warm against Jooyeon’s bare thighs. He pulls at the tie of his pants and loosens them enough to dip a hand inside. 

Jooyeon has never actually heard Hyeongjun jerk off. He wasn’t even sure that he did it at all while they were sharing a room. Jooyeon would admit to actively listening more than a few times, just to see if he could hear anything. Maybe he waited until Jooyeon wasn’t there. Maybe he just wanted some privacy. Maybe Jooyeon jerking off every night without fail put him off. 

He moves his hands inside his pants, slow steady strokes, and Jooyeon wishes he was propped up enough to be able to see properly without straining to try to make anything out in the corner of his eye. Maybe he could actually look this time. He’s kept his eyes focused dead ahead the whole time so far, but no one explicitly told him he had to. He doesn’t think Hyeongjun will be the one to tell him that he can’t look. 

He shifts his gaze down, but he can’t see anything. Hyeongjun’s arm is blocking any kind of view he might have caught from under the waistband of his trousers. He wants to see it so bad, wants it with an intensity that surprises him a little. Hyeongjun is the only one out of the group he hasn’t seen naked, even before they started all messing around together. He’s been there with them when they’ve done stuff together, but he mostly just watches - the most Jooyeon has seen him do is kiss Jungsu while he rubbed himself against Hyeongjun’s hand. 

He’s so sure Hyeongjun’s dick will be as pretty as the rest of him, probably long and thin just like his fingers. He’s thought about it a lot, just like he’s thought of kissing him and sucking on his fingers, but Hyeongjun hasn’t really seemed like he wanted to do more than watch, so they haven’t pushed him. He wonders if they just haven’t been paying attention properly. Maybe after this things will change. 

Jooyeon listens to the rattle of the AC unit and the soft rasping movements of Hyeongjun’s hand for a while, settling himself as much as he can. His stomach is full of a nervous kind of energy; he wants to touch, wants to make Hyeongjun feel good, wants to do something to move things along. But he can’t. He doesn’t even know what Hyeongjun actually wants from him. Or, rather, what Hyeongjun wants to do to him. Jooyeon can’t do anything, he’s just there to be used. 

Eventually Hyeongjun pulls his hand out of his pants and he wiggles to push them down his hips a little, just enough for him to draw his cock out of his boxers. The feeling in Jooyeon’s stomach gets more intense as he finally gets to see Hyeongjun’s cock, and he has to tense his arms to stop himself from trying to touch. 

It is long, just like he thought, but thicker than he pictured. It really is pretty, and Jooyeon wants to know what it feels like in his mouth so bad it hurts. He hopes he’ll get the chance to find out soon, even just to feel the weight of it in his hand. 

Like Hyeongjun somehow knows what he’s thinking he reaches out for Jooyeon’s wrist, pulling it towards him while the other hand continues to move over his cock in that same languid rhythm he’s had the whole time. He has to let his muscles intense, but the idea of getting to touch Hyeongjun has him feeling giddy.

He doesn’t put it on his cock, though. Instead he draws it into his lap and uses his thumb to gently unfurl Jooyeon’s fingers, flipping his hand over so he can run it across his nails. He picks it up, the way a prince would take a lady’s hand, and leans forward to kiss Jooyeon’s knuckles. 

His eyes flit up to find Jooyeon’s while his lips are still against his skin and Jooyeon feels a bolt of heat hit him like a brick. He’s never seen Hyeongjun like this, not even when he has to pretend for the cameras or the fans. 

Then he’s wrapping Jooyeon’s fingers around his cock, and the heat inside his gut flares into an inferno. God , he feels good. Even thicker than he looked, uncut, blood hot. He curls his own fingers around Jooyeon’s hand and sets up the same rhythm as earlier, squeezing around him until he gets the right pressure. 

It’s nothing, really. Not compared to what Seungmin and Jiseok did to him earlier, what Gunil did before the game even started, or what he’s done with the others. But there’s something about it that makes it feel just as good, that makes Jooyeon’s brain feel fuzzy with how good it is. Hyeongjun letting himself be touched, working himself with it like a fleshlight. Just a toy to be used. 

Footsteps coming closer, the voice from earlier getting louder. Their manager is coming back into the room. Hyeongjun stills again.

“I’ve got it, I’ll bring it back as soon as I can. I’ve got a call in a minute though, so I don’t want to be driving when it comes in,” he says, then goes quiet as he listens to Seungmin through the phone, “As soon as it’s over I’ll leave. Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes or so.”

Jooyeon stares at his hand on Hyeongjun, unsure of what to do. Not that he can actually do anything, but he’s unsure of what’s going to happen now. He doesn’t like the thought that Hyeongjun’s chance to relax and feel good has been spoiled, and he doesn’t want him to leave yet. He doesn’t want to lose the chance to know what it’s like to make Hyeongjun come. 

Hyeongjun stares at the curtain as if he can see to the other side, his profile outlined by the light filtering through it. He’s so pretty.

Managernim says goodbye and ends the call. Hyeongjun doesn’t move, but he tightens his hand around Jooyeon’s. 

The phone rings again, the call he’s staying to take. He answers it. 

They both listen for a moment, greetings and idle chat, then Hyeongjun turns back and presses a finger to his lips. Be quiet. Not like Jooyeon can say anything anyway, but he still feels a little fizzle of excitement at it anyway. 

It’s hard not to let his eyes widen in surprise when Hyeongjun resumes the movement of his hand, faster this time. He didn’t think Hyeongjun would keep going, not like this. Maybe it’s because the curtain is there, or that their manager clearly thinks he’s alone. Maybe it’s just because he’s already hard and doesn’t want to give up without what he came for.

Whatever it is, Jooyeon is glad for it. 

When Hyeongjun squeezes Jooyeon’s hand around the tip of his cock, Jooyeon feels the wetness on his palm. He’s not as wet as Jiseok gets, but there’s a lot of it, enough to make the slide smoother every time they reach the top of the stroke. 

Jooyeon finds himself with the dangerous thought that, rather than being put off by an unwitting audience, Hyeongjun might just be encouraged by it. That maybe Hyeongjun had been jerking off while Jooyeon was in the room after all, and Jooyeon had just missed it. Maybe their little bunny isn’t quite as shy as they all thought. 

Hyeongjun reaches over with his free hand and plucks at the skirt of Jooyeon’s dress where it’s still rucked up over his stomach, moving it out of the way so he can get a clear look at his underwear. He feels fingers over his dick, hard and probably leaving a little damp spot on the cotton, then over his thighs. It’s so gentle, more of a breeze than a touch, and it makes Jooyeon want to shiver. 

He speeds Jooyeon’s hand up again on his cock, squeezes a little tighter. Even now Jooyeon can barely hear the movement of it over the conversation on the other side of the curtain, and he finds himself impressed but no longer surprised by it. Hyeongjun does as much as he can to avoid attention. Evidently he’s even better at it than any of them realised. A slightly heavier exhale of breath is the only thing that gives away the fact that he’s probably getting close, but Jooyeon would never notice it if he wasn’t looking for it. 

Then he shifts carefully, just enough to get his knee under him and pushes himself up onto it so he’s leaning over Jooyeon’s body. He doesn’t let go of his hand or slow down the strokes, instead he moves it faster until he lets out a soft huff of air and Jooyeon feels the cum hit his stomach. Thick ropes of it cover his belly and his thighs, probably staining his knickers too. 

Hyeongjun’s face barely moves when he comes. Just a soft fluttering of his eyelashes and a slight purse of his lips. He looks gorgeous, though. Jooyeon can’t believe he’s finally started to see underneath the mask Hyeongjun still wears to the riddle underneath. 

He’s as careful as ever when he finally stills his hand and unwraps Jooyeon’s fingers from his dick. His palm is slick with cum, he can feel it between his fingers. He wishes he could taste it, but Hyeongjun places his back on the bed exactly where it was when he came in. Then he tucks himself back into his pants and re-ties the drawstring, looking like nothing has happened. 

The conversation still hasn’t ended, something about details for a possible festival. Jooyeon wonders for a second what Hyeongjun is going to do while he waits for the dorm to be empty again so he can slip away. He hopes he doesn’t feel awkward, because Jooyeon has always felt a sort of peaceful calm whenever it’s just them together, but he’s not as good at reading Hyeongjun as he thought he was. 

Hyeongjun goes back to looking at him, the way he did when he first sat down, cataloguing the changes. But then he runs his fingers through the cum on Jooyeon’s belly, pushing it around in little circles. Jooyeon’s not sure why. Maybe he’s trying to clean it up even though there aren’t any tissues near them. 

But then Hyeongjun makes the circles wider, uses the flat of his fingers instead of just the tips, and Jooyeon has to bite down on a keen because Hyeongjun is rubbing it into his skin. He’s marking him dirty and nasty and perfect, leaving evidence that he was here. That he did this to Jooyeon. Their toy, their perfect doll. 

He keeps rubbing at it until well after it’s already started to turn tacky in the cool air, until the call ends and Managernim gets up and leaves the dorm. When the door clicks behind him and silence fills the dorm Hyeongjun straightens up and uses Jooyeon’s dress to wipe his hands. 

Fuck, it makes his head spin a little. 

Jooyeon watches him when he stands and rights himself, straightening out his shirt and checking his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. He catches Jooyeon’s eyes again but he doesn’t say anything. 

There’s a little smile in the corner of his mouth, though. He bends over to pull Jooyeon’s dress down over his thighs. The back of it is bunched up under his waist, so he doesn’t bother trying to pull that bit down. Jooyeon wishes he had. It’s a little uncomfortable now that he’s noticed it, but there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Hyeongjun runs his hand over Jooyeon’s stomach, over the claim he’s left on him, then stands up again and walks out. He turns for one more look as he pulls the curtains shut, but he still doesn’t say anything.

He hasn’t said anything the whole time.  

The door closes softly.

Jooyeon feels a little cheated, actually. He’d gotten far more than he expected, but then he’s always been greedy. He wanted to hear Hyeongjun talking to him, talking at him. Wanted to hear his soft voice saying sweet things, wanted to hear what he sounded like when he talked dirty. He wanted Hyeongjun to call him pretty. 

But dolls don’t get what they want. Because they don’t want anything at all. 

4. Jungsu

Jooyeon floats in the hazy space between waking and sleep. He’s not really aware of anything other than that he feels good. Really good. He’s warm and on something soft, and there’s a delicious syrupy heat between his legs that makes his nerves sing under his skin. He wants more of it, wants to chase the feeling, but his limbs are so heavy and he doesn’t quite have enough presence to figure out how to make his body move.

He wasn’t even aware of falling asleep. He doesn’t know what time it is. He barely even knows where he is. All he knows is that he wants to chase the feeling flowing through him. He slowly swims his way back to consciousness and opens his eyes. 

All he sees is black. There’s a moment of panic, a sick clench of fear that something is wrong that spreads through his veins like ice as he tries to shake his head. He needs to be able to see, he needs to open his eyes, needs to — 

The sensation between his legs stops and he whines, half in protest and half in distress, still trying to shake off the last webs of sleep that make him feel slow and muddled. Something moves him, pulling him up the bed until he’s propped up against a solid warmth. He wants to fight, to try to get away, but he’s still clumsy.

“Shhh, baby. Pretty dolls like you shouldn’t be making any noise. You’re just for looking at.” 

Jungsu. 

Jooyeon feels himself relax like a puppet cut free of its strings, lets his weight slump tiredly into Jungsu’s body. The panic bleeds out of him as quick as it came and leaves his body feeling heavy and loose with relief. He always feels safe with Jungsu, something innate within him that responds to Jungsu’s presence like striking a tuning fork.

“Silly toys shouldn’t fall asleep, should they? Not when they should be ready to be picked up and played with.” 

He can hear the soft, catty smile in Jungsu’s voice, but he can’t see it. Without the irrational fear, he can tell there’s some kind of blindfold over his eyes. Nothing to panic about, but it makes something in him spark with the extra layer of vulnerability. He wants to keen, he wants to let his legs fall open and chase Jungsu’s hands until he touches him again. He wants a kiss, wants to see Jungsu’s smile, wants to feel his hair between his fingers. 

But he can’t do any of it. All he can do is lie uselessly on the bed, slumped over Jungsu’s legs underneath him. It’s not actually a comfortable position, his neck resting at a weird angle that will probably make something twinge if he stays like this for too long, but this is where Jungsu put him. So it’s where he stays. 

“I wish I had more time before I have to go back to practice. Everyone else gets to play with our pretty doll, I should get to as well,” Jungsu whispers close to his ear, leaning over slightly to put his hands on Jooyeon, “and after I did the most to make you, too. I hope everyone has been appreciating my hard work. You do look so perfect.” 

A hand bunches in the skirt of his dress, pulling it up his legs until he feels the cool air on his thighs again. It’s practically deja vu, but it still feels good every time to be exposed to them, for them to look where they shouldn’t. His dick is hard and leaking, the fabric of his knickers sticking to his skin from where Seungmin made him dirty them.

“All this, and no time to enjoy it properly. Guess I’ll just have to make the most of it.”

Jungsu leans a little further forward, squashing Jooyeon between his legs and his torso, and pushes his fingers down between his legs. He goes until he finds the plug sitting pretty between his cheeks, and something about the feeling sparks in Jooyeon a memory from the hazy not-dream of earlier. 

That was the feeling between his legs, the low stretch and pull of it inside him. Jungsu must have been fucking him with the plug before he woke up. He hadn’t even waited for Jooyeon to be conscious before he started playing with him. 

The thought of it sends goosebumps over his whole body – Jungsu watching him, touching him, playing with him, all while Jooyeon wasn’t even aware of it. He could have done anything and he wouldn’t even know unless Jungsu told him. He still could , he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep, he doesn’t know how long Jungsu has been here. 

He’s never felt so small. So used. So much like an object, a silly little doll.  

He breathes out steadily when Jungsu pulls the plug out of him and uses it to softly trace around his hole. Then his fingers slip in — just two, enough to feel but not enough to stretch — and Jooyeon desperately wants Jungsu to fuck him. He wants it with a ferocity that surprises him in its suddenness. His chest feels tight with just how bad he wants it. He wants Jungsu to use him like a cocksleeve or a flashlight, to masturbate with Jooyeon’s limp body and leave him full of him. 

But all he can do is stay still, waiting to see what Jungsu wants to do with him. 

There’s a buzzing under his shoulder that cuts into his desperation. Jungsu’s phone, probably in his pocket.

Jungsu sighs but ignores it, instead crooking his fingers. That has Jooyeon working very hard not to let himself twitch. It feels so good, lighting up his nerves just like it was when he was asleep. He can feel himself slipping back into the hazy place in his mind, letting himself fall. 

Then the phone buzzes under him again and Jungsu lets out a deeper sigh, withdrawing his fingers and replacing the plug in his hole. 

No. No no no no no, please . He was feeling so good, and the constant whiplash has him so on edge that his eyes are starting to burn with tears. He wants this so bad, and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Jungsu leans back until he can fish his phone out of his jeans. Jooyeon’s head lolls miserably against his stomach. 

“Well, pretty baby, looks like I don’t have as much time as I thought.” He sounds annoyed, and Jooyeon’s gut clenches with disappointment. 

It’s not fair. He doesn’t want Jungsu to leave. He doesn’t even care about getting off anymore, he just wants Jungsu to stay.  

“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you yet. Just don’t have enough time to play with you like I wanted to.” 

He adjusts his position on the bed until Jooyeon is half in his lap, his head cradled in the crook of one of his arms. It’s a bit like being a baby. Jungsu could probably rock him back to sleep like this. 

He feels Jungsu’s fingers on whatever it is that was covering his eyes and he has just enough time to open them before Jungsu pulls it away from his face. The room is, thankfully, dim, the sun long since having moved away from their windows. He angles Jooyeon’s head until he’s looking in the vague direction of his face. 

“There you are,” Jungsu smiles gently, and Jooyeon’s stomach ties itself in knots. 

He feels his eyes trained on the spider web floating in the corner of the ceiling, suddenly missing the security of the blindfold. He wanted to see Jungsu, but now it just makes him want to cry that he’s going to have to leave soon. Looking at him will only make it so much harder to stop himself. 

“I wonder who it was that ruined your makeup, dolly. You were so pretty when I left you, now you’re all messy.” 

Jungsu’s fingers trace the seam of his lips, no doubt smudging what is left of his lipstick. Then he leans down and presses one, two, three soft kisses to his mouth. Jooyeon feels his eyelids flutter a little but keeps them open through sheer will. 

“At least it means I don’t have to feel bad about being the one to spoil it.” 

Jungsu’s fingers turn firmer, pushing Jooyeon’s mouth out of shape and exposing his teeth between his lips. It’s kind of weird, but there’s something about it that has his dick stirring where it had softened in his distress. 

It’s not something you would do to someone you want to kiss. It’s something you do to an object, a possession. Just playing with it idly, not even fully paying attention, pushing and prodding while focussing on something more important. 

But Jungsu is paying attention to him. He can feel the way he’s looking down at him, and sees the amused tilt of his mouth out of the corner of his eye. 

He runs the edge of a blunt nail over Jooyeon’s teeth, feeling the shape of them and the dips between, catching slightly on the little overlap of his two front ones. Then he does the same to his lips, leaving a tingling in his wake that makes Jooyeon’s mouth feel the same way it does after he’s been kissed for hours. A sweet, lingering soreness.

Then Jungsu’s thumb pushes on his chin and Jooyeon lets him open his mouth, relaxing his jaw until Jungsu can slip his fingers between his teeth and into the cavern behind. His fingers taste like metal and are slightly bitter. He’s used hand sanitiser recently. The alcohol of it is still sharp on his tongue where Jungsu prods at it softly. The taste isn’t nice, but it doesn’t matter. His opinion is irrelevant, it’s up to Jungsu what he does with his own toys. But Jooyeon would be happy to have Jungsu’s fingers in his mouth regardless of how they taste. 

“So soft, so sweet,” Jungsu whispers, voice warm and low, “good enough to eat.” 

He bends down and bites at Jooyeon’s lips around his fingers, dragging them out as he pulls away without letting go of them. The scrape of sharp teeth adds to the tingling of his mouth and the heat in his belly.

His mind is soupy, hazy and honey-slow the way Jungsu is the best at making it feel. There’s nothing about this that feels spectacularly good, not in the way a handjob or being fucked out feel, but something about it is overloading his brain far quicker for it. It’s not meant to feel good, he thinks, it’s just Jungsu playing with him because he can. 

He pinches Jooyeon’s tongue with his fingers and pulls it out until he can take it into his own mouth. He holds it with his fingers, then bites gently with his teeth, sucks on it hard like he’s giving head. If Jooyeon could get away with it, he’d push his tongue out further, make it easier, but he just lies there. It’s fucking messy, loud and wet, and Jooyeon can feel the way saliva floods his mouth just like it did when Jiseok was fucking his face. He wonders if Jungsu is going to make as much of a mess of him before he has to go. 

Once Jungsu lets go of him he reluctantly allows his tongue to fall back into his mouth instead of chasing after him like he wants to. He loves kissing, loves kissing all of them, but Jungsu always kisses him the best. 

He doesn’t swallow the spit in his mouth, though. Jungsu’s fingers slip back between his teeth. 

“Your lipstick is even more smudged now, dolly. I think it might be a lost cause.” Jungsu sounds completely normal, unaffected and so at odds with the way Jooyeon feels like he’s floating adrift in the middle of the ocean.

He pulls his fingers away, and Jooyeon keeps his mouth open. Just like a good doll. Waiting for more, desperate for whatever he gets to have. 

There’s a second of stillness where nothing else happens, and Jooyeon feels a cold shard of panic slipping under his ribs. He wonders if this is it, if this is all he gets before Jungsu has to leave him. It’s not his fault – Jungsu has things to do, they all do – but it’s hard to remember that as he tries to hold onto the warm haze in his head. 

But Jungsu kisses him again and Jooyeon’s blood sings with relief. It’s even besides this time, Jungsu’s tongue dipping into his open mouth to run over Jooyeon’s own. It makes another wash of heat run through him. He’s never been kissed like this, and it’s fucking weird, but god it makes his head spin. 

He wants to close his eyes like it’s a real kiss, wants to kiss back and taste Jungsu properly. Instead he lies there and takes it, grateful for everything he gets, even as he wants more. 

The kiss lasts for a while. Jungsu explores the ridges of his teeth, under his tongue, along the lines of his gums and winding Jooyeon’s nerves tighter and tighter with every obscene noise their mouths make. He’s so fucking hard, leaking enough precum to soak his underwear. He wonders for a moment if it’s physically possible for him to come just from this, because it feels like he could.

He almost breaks when Jungsu slips two fingers into his mouth alongside his tongue, breathing out shakily as he holds back a whine. Jungsu fucks them over his tongue like he’s fingering him for real, opening him up ready for his dick. He wants it, he wants to make Jungsu come, wants everything all at once with no idea how or where to start. 

And then, to his horror, Jungsu pulls away completely. He sits up and the light from his phone screen lights up his face in cold blue, matching the way Jooyeon’s blood turns to ice. He knows this is it, and any good feeling in his body disappears immediately. 

“That’s my time up, doll,” Jungsu says, as if Jooyeon couldn’t already tell. 

His vision blurs as his eyes prickle with tears, but he doesn’t want to cry.

“Here, I’ll leave you with something so you don’t miss me too much.” 

He hooks two fingers behind Jooyeon’s teeth and pulls his mouth open wider. Jooyeon hadn’t closed his mouth anyway, but it doesn’t matter. He watches as Jungsu sucks at his own tongue in his mouth for a second, then he’s leaning over and sticks it out. A long string of clear spit spills over his tongue and down into Jooyeon’s waiting mouth. 

Gentle fingers under his chin tilt his head as he lets another string fall, then Jungsu presses a soft kiss to Jooyeon’s cheek and he slides himself out from underneath him. 

He stands from the bed and pauses with his phone out to snap a picture of him on the bed. 

“See you soon, princess.”

Jooyeon’s chest hurts as he watches Jungsu walk away. He gives up trying to stop the tears in his eyes from falling. 

His mouth is still open, tongue still cradling Jungsu’s spit, but he doesn’t swallow until after the door closes softly behind him. 

5. Gunil

He’s still nursing the sour pang of disappointment when he hears the door open again. His eyes feel tacky from the tears that have no doubt made his makeup run even more. For a second, he thinks maybe Jungsu has come back, but that would be stupid. He has things to do, things that he can’t just ignore to stay at home instead. 

Gunil sweeps in through the curtains. Jooyeon feels his mood lighten considerably. It can’t be long since Jungsu left, and for a second he wonders if they might have passed each other in the street. He wonders if Jungsu showed Gunil the photo he took, so Gunil would know  what to expect. He wonders if any of them have seen the photos Seungmin took earlier. He probably looked a lot better in those than he does now. 

Gunil doesn’t say anything as he takes Jooyeon in, still lying where he left him this morning, albeit a lot more dishevelled. He stalks forward silently, climbing onto the bed and up along Jooyeon’s body until he’s hovering above him on his hands and knees. He’s trapped between the bed and the cage of Gunil’s body, unable to move or get away. Not that he wants to escape, not when the thought of being hemmed in like this settles the itch of loneliness under his skin. 

He has to unfocus his vision to avoid accidentally making eye contact when Gunil leans in to nose at his temple. He hears a deep intake of air, feels the exhale against the side of his face that raises goosebumps down his neck and his arms. 

“You smell so sweet, darling. My perfect little princess waiting for her prince to come home.” 

Jooyeon’s stomach clenches hard, toes almost curling from the way Gunil’s voice hits him. 

“I’ve been trying to get away to come see you all day.” He continues to run his nose softly along his hairline, speaking softly like he doesn’t want to startle Jooyeon. Like he’s a scared child in need of comfort or an animal about to bolt. “Thinking about you being here all alone with no one to play with you was so awful.” 

He hasn’t been alone the whole time, they both know that. But it doesn’t matter, that’s not important to whatever Gunil is going for here. It’s working, just as he suspects Gunil intended it to. It cuts down through his ribs and into the unpleasant knot in his chest that has been growing with every time someone left him, helping to ease the tangle and the ache there.

He feels Gunil press a soft kiss to the corner of his eye, right over the streaks of mascara, then he reaches down to stroke his hand over the bodice of Jooyeon’s dress. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you? Whoever made you did such a good job, I’ve never seen a doll as pretty as you.”

He squeezes at Jooyeon’s chest as if he had tits under the dress, trailing kisses down the side of his face all the while.

Jooyeon is already starting to feel the desperate tug in his chest, the one that makes it so hard to stay still as he’s filled with the need for more. He’s so small like this, pinned under Gunil. Gunil is so much bigger than him in all the ways that matter. He’sstronger and faster. The height advantage Jooyeon has on him is entirely irrelevant when they’re in this position, and even then it wouldn’t do anything for him if he tried to fight back. Not when Gunil’s biceps are probably twice the width of Jooyeon’s thighs. 

“Have you missed me?” He asks Jooyeon, kissing his nose, then the corner of his mouth, “Hm, no, I suppose not. After all, you’re not real, are you?” 

The hand on his dress moves down until it’s on Jooyeon’s thigh. Gunil strokes his thumb over the soft skin there and works further up with every sweep. 

“Would you be this good for me if you were real? Would you wait for me to come home so I can touch you, make you feel good?” 

Gunil whispers into his ear as his hand reaches Jooyeon’s cum-ruined knickers. 

“Would you dress yourself up all pretty so I can unwrap you like a gift?” 

Fingers hook into his underwear, drawing them down his legs. Jooyeon has to fight against the urge to move, to get closer. It’s so much already. The haze fills his head once more and makes thinking so much harder. 

Gunil spreads his legs and kneels between them, running reverent hands over the sensitive skin of Jooyeon’s inner thighs and around his groin. Jooyeon knows there’s still dried cum all over his belly and underwear, but Gunil doesn’t even seem to notice it as he goes for the plug between Jooyeon’s cheeks. 

He pulls it out without any warning and Jooyeon has to swallow down a strangled whine at the sudden emptiness. Gunil slips two fingers straight into his hole though, so he doesn’t have to feel empty for long. It settles something inside him even as it starts the low simmering of arousal in his belly. Gunil’s fingers always feel good inside him, always feel like they were made for this. His fingers are different to Seungmin’s or Jungsu’s, thicker and shorter but more powerful. They both like to work him up by going for his prostate, rather than focussing on opening him up like a promise of what follows. Gunil takes his time, watching intently as he scissors his fingers and tests the stretch of Jooyeon’s hole. 

“God, your pussy is so pretty, baby. They made it just as beautiful as the rest of you.”

Jooyeon’s stomach clenches dangerously, tears burning behind his eyes. Something about it, the obscenity of calling it that, strikes something deep within him that he doesn’t want to think about right now. Maybe he’s just getting a little too lost in the fantasy. 

His dick jerks when he thinks about the way Gunil’s voice sounded when he said it. It’s filling out against his thigh, adding to the mess on his skin. He’s glad that Gunil took his underwear off, though they’re probably going to be ruined after all of this, anyway. It’s a shame because they’re so pretty, but maybe someone will buy him more pretty things if he’s good enough for them.

“You’re always so wet and waiting for me to fill you up. It’s all you’re made for, isn’t it? To make me happy, to satisfy me. And you’re so good at it, princess.” 

Gunil adds another finger, stretching him enough that Jooyeon starts to feel the burn of it. It’s good, though. It makes it feel even better, a feeling he associates purely with Gunil. There’s no one that has ever made him feel the way Gunil does when he fucks him, split open on his huge cock no matter how much prep he has or how much time he’s taken. 

He wants that now, wants it so bad that it makes the tears in his eyes spill over and further ruins what’s left of his makeup. Gunil watches him cry as he continues fingering him open, eyes bright in the dim room. 

He has no idea how much longer it is before Gunil slides his fingers out. The emptiness feels worse now than it did when he first pulled the plug out, but he knows Gunil won’t keep him waiting for much longer. He’s not cruel enough for that, not like some of the others. 

Hands hook under his knees and then his hips are being pulled into the solid warmth of Gunil’s lap, legs spread around his waist. 

“Wish you could get wet for me for real, princess, but for now this will have to do,” he says, and lets loose a mouthful of spit into Jooyeon’s hole. 

If he wasn’t so desperate for something inside him he might have taken a moment to be grateful for the extra lube, simple as it is, but all he can think about is the way every second he has to wait for Gunil’s cock feels like an entire lifetime. Then finally, blissfully, he can feel the blunt head of Gunil’s dick pushing in. He would sob in relief if he was allowed to make a sound. The tears in his eyes spill over anyway. 

“God, I wish you were real. Wish you really were my girl, wish I could play with you properly and make you come for me,” he grits out, jaw clenched as he slowly inches his cock deeper into Jooyeon. 

Jooyeon lets his eyes close. It feels like a lesser sin than letting Gunil see the way his eyes feel like they’re about to roll back into his head, or the way he’s really starting to have trouble stopping himself from reacting to everything. 

The burn and the slow slide is too much and not enough. It scorches him from the inside, making the fabric of the dress feel like it’s trapping the heat and burning him alive. Maybe he would be able to control himself if that was all he had to focus on, but Gunil running his mouth is almost enough to make him break. He’s so tired, exhausted from the intensity of the entire day even if he’s barely moved a muscle, but he wants everything Gunil says to be real and thinking about it is going to be what pushes him over the edge. 

“Maybe it’s for the best you’re not real, though. I might feel bad about using you as a fucktoy if you were a real person.” Gunil groans as he finally bottoms out, tipping his face up to the ceiling for a moment before he focuses back on Jooyeon. “But if you’re a doll, it doesn’t matter. I can just wipe you clean and put you away when I’m finished with you.”

Jooyeon feels insanely full, the way he does every time Gunil fucks him. Like he couldn’t possibly  take anymore without dying from how fucking good it feels. It takes everything he has not to moan when Gunil starts fucking him properly, pushing him down into the bed with the force of it. 

He lets his eyes blink open as the tears continue to fall down into his hair. Gunil doesn’t notice, he’s hunched over Jooyeon with his arms hooked around his spread thighs and using them to anchor Jooyeon as he pistons his hips hard enough that their skin slaps together harshly. The bed creaks under them, the thin mattress not enough to stop the frame from feeling the force of Gunil’s thrusts. 

He keeps talking as he uses Jooyeon’s limp body, words that Jooyeon struggles to parse through the overwhelming sensation of everything until he realises Gunil isn’t speaking Korean anymore. He’s using English, speaking to him in a language he can’t even understand. Because they’re not for Jooyeon, he’s just a stupid empty doll that Gunil is using for his own gratification.

Maybe if he hadn’t spent all day being teased and used, he’d be humiliated by it, even though he’d asked for this. Or maybe it’s the humiliation that really does it for him, because he’s so fucking close to coming again. 

Gunil keeps talking, and Jooyeon doesn’t know if he’s glad he doesn’t know what he’s saying or if it’s a relief that he doesn’t have to process Gunil saying things that make him feel insane. The knot in his chest made up of feelings he’s still refusing to examine any deeper tightens every time Gunil opens his mouth until it’s like they’re strangling him. 

“If you were real,” Gunil groans, switching back to Korean suddenly, “then I wouldn’t be able to fill your pussy up with my cum. I might get you pregnant by accident.” 

Jooyeon’s mind finally gives up and goes completely blank, his body going completely lax as he comes all over himself. He watches it splatter over his dress when Gunil bends him in half and fucks him even harder. 

It’s too much after coming, the jackhammer force of Gunil’s hips likely leaving Jooyeon’s skin red like he’s been spanked, his nerves lighting up so bright he can feel nothing else but pure overwhelming sensation. 

He thinks he might be gasping for air but he can’t tell, he can’t hear over the roaring in his ears. His eyes are streaming so much he can barely see Gunil through the tears. 

It could be minutes or hours before Gunil pulls out and crowds over Jooyeon again, catching himself on one hand and furiously jerking himself off with the other.

“Close your eyes, darling,” he pants, and Jooyeon does it before he can realise that it’s outside of their little game. 

It doesn’t really matter at this point. He already feels like he’s going to shake apart into pieces when the first spurt of cum hits his face. Gunil groans low and ragged in his chest as he paints Jooyeon’s face with pearly white. He always comes so much, always makes a mess. 

Jooyeon feels filthy with it as the tears continue to fall from under his lashes. He doesn’t think about Gunil wanting to come inside him, and very pointedly does not think about the other thing Gunil said, adding it to the knot in his chest of things to ignore forever. 

“Fuck, that was so good,” Gunil pants and falls to the mattress beside him, “I wish you could have felt it for real, baby.”

Their legs are tangled together, and Gunil has one of Jooyeon’s knees trapped under him in a way that will get uncomfortable before long. He ignores it. He lies there motionless and trying to control his breathing so his chest stops trying to heave. He doesn’t have to force his body not to move now, not when his muscles feel like honey and his body is still sparking with aftershocks. 

Gunil stays for a moment, before he sits up slowly and checks his watch with a sigh. It’s not enough time. Jooyeon’s heart plummets. The warmth he was feeling disappears completely, like it was never there. Gunil doesn’t sound happy about it, like he wants to stay. But it doesn’t matter. Because he’s still going to leave. And Jooyeon will be alone again, with things he doesn’t want to think about and waiting for someone else to find him.

His eyes fill with tears again, and he doesn’t bother to stop his lip from curling as he cries for real. 

“I need to go back. I don’t have time to clean you up, princess, I’m sorry.” 

Jooyeon doesn’t react. The game suddenly isn’t very fun anymore. 

He feels more than sees the way Gunil searches around the bed for something before his legs are being parted again and something cold touches his puffy hole. 

“I know I should treat my toys better, but you won’t know the difference. At least I can do this before I leave, though.” 

There’s pressure and then the coldness sinks inside easily. The plug. Keeping him full and open. 

It’s not as good as Gunil staying with him, but he tells himself it’s something at least. It has to be better than nothing. 

Then Gunil shuffles backwards and brings his ankles together, guiding the legs of his underwear over his feet and up his legs, until he settles them back into place over the mess Jooyeon has made of his belly and his cock. His dress is pulled down and straightened out over his legs, then Gunil is standing up to take him in fully. 

“God ,you’re beautiful. My perfect little doll. I miss you already and I haven’t even left yet. 

Jooyeon wants to tell him not to leave. He wants Gunil to be selfish for once and stop being the responsible leader, wants him to stop leading by example just once and tell them that he’s not going back to the company for the rest of the night.

But he doesn’t. He just lies there feeling the way the hair at his temples is getting damp from how much he’s been crying. 

Gunil fixes his clothes and runs a hand through his own hair to make sure it doesn’t look too ruffled. Then he leans over and kisses Jooyeon’s forehead softly. Maybe it’s meant to be an apology, or just to make him feel better. 

But it doesn’t, and it just makes him feel worse. 

——

The room goes dark around him as he lies there. His hole is wet and throbbing around the plug that doesn’t fill him anywhere near enough after having Gunil inside him. He lets himself cry since there’s no one here to tell him not to, pathetic little noises escaping his mouth like he’s too scared to break the silence after so long. 

He must look awful by now, streaks of mascara and cum mixing together on his cheeks. He can feel the way his eyelashes gum together and leave smudges of black when he screws his eyes closed. 

He has no idea what time it is. He doesn’t know when they’re coming home or if anyone else will come back to use him. Maybe they’re all done now that they’ve all got off, no more need for him. Jungsu hadn’t actually gotten off, he thinks, but it’s not a comforting thought. It just reminds him of being left alone. 

Maybe he should just get up now. They told him in no uncertain terms, that fun and games aside, it was up to him when he wanted to end it, that he could stop whenever, but he hadn’t wanted to stop until now. 

He doesn’t actually know if he can get up, not entirely confident in his legs’ ability to hold him up long enough to even make it to the other side of the room, let alone anywhere else. 

He stays where he is. 

——

Jungsu is the one who comes home next. Jooyeon must have fallen asleep again, because when he opens them Jungsu is staring down at him with a soft expression on his face. For a second he thinks it’s deja vu, a replay of the first time Jungsu found him, but it’s not. 

Jooyeon blinks up at him with dry, scratchy eyes. He’s forgotten about not moving or being a good doll, but he’s too tired and weary to move anyway. Jungsu reaches over and gently brushes some stray hairs away from his face, strokes sweet fingers over the skin on his face that isn’t sticky with cum and dried tears. 

“I’m all done for today, Yeonny. The others will probably be back soon. Do you want to wait for them or do you want to put the toys away now?” 

Jooyeon stares at him blankly. He doesn’t know if he’s still meant to be quiet, not sure if Jungsu is still going along with the game. 

“You can answer me, darling,” Jungsu says softly, stroking Jooyeon’s hair, “do you want to clean up?” 

It takes him a while for him to work through the syrup that has filled his head but eventually he nods. 

He’s cold now. His face feels puffy from crying and his skin is starting to itch from the dried cum. He’s been lying in the same position so long that his muscles are stiff. 

And more than anything else, he’s past having fun now. He wants Jungsu to help him in the shower and make him feel clean again, he wants to wear someone else’s clothes that smell like them, he wants to sit at the table and eat something greasy and unhealthy. He wants to be able to ask for kisses and to touch them back and he doesn’t want to be on his own ever again. 

He’s ready to be a person again.