Kinktober 2017 - eorumverba (orphan_account), taeminuet (2024)

Chapter 1: Table of Contents

Chapter Text

Day 1: Aphrodisiac; taekey

Day 2: Dirty Talk; jongyu - jongkey - onjongkey

Day 3: Public; jongyu

Day 4: Knives; onkai

Day 5: Humiliation; jongkey

Day 6: Size Difference; jongho

Day 7: Body Worship; onkey

Day 8: Deepthroating; jongyu

Day 9: Frottage; jongtae

Day 10: Gun Play; ontae

Day 11: Gags; jongyu

Day 12: Tentacles; taemin/plants

Day 13: Rimming; minkai

Day 14: Sensory Deprivation; jongyu

Day 15: Lap Dance; 2min

Day 16: Sleepy Sex; jongtae

Day 17: Blood; keykai

Day 18: Daddy; jongyu

Day 19: Olfactophilia; minkai

Day 20: Spanking; jongkey

Day 21: Shower; jongho

Day 22: Gloryholes; taekai

Day 23: Corset; jongtae

Day 24: Exhibitionism/Voyeruism; jongtae - taekai - jongtaekai

Day 25: Boot Worship; onkey

Day 26: Mirror Sex; taekai

Day 27: Fingering; jongkey

Day 28: Toys; minkey

Day 29: Swallowing; jongyu - jongtae - onjongtae

Day 30: Dacryphilia; jongtae

Day 31: Free For All; jongyu (Part One / Part Two)

Chapter 2: Cupio

Chapter Text

Taemin wakes up early. It’s Sunday morning, and the light is drifting in through the window in pale sunbeams that he would nap in if he were a cat. It’s barely past dawn, and any other day Taemin would go back to sleep, but on days like this, there’s no getting around it -- he can feel the start of it, the simmer of warmth a warning just beneath his skin.

He whines as he rolls out of bed, stretching out slow and languid and looking longingly at the sunbeams. He doesn’t dare turn into a cat right now, not when the entire room will smell of Jonghyun. The entire house, really. Jonghyun’s presence is all over the place, in the way his scent lingers in Taemin’s bed or Jinki’s, in the way Taemin can smell his presence in the desk chair or his favorite seat in the living room.

Jonghyun himself is nowhere to be found, and it takes Taemin a long moment to remember that Jonghyun is with Jinki today, seeing a movie, just the two of them. Taemin had considered the prospect of waking up early and immediately refused, but now he regrets it, somewhat. Jonghyun is far away, won’t be home for hours yet, and Taemin doesn’t really want to interrupt their date just to tell Jonghyun to come home and f*ck him.

He has hours until it gets bad anyways, and he can wait if he needs to. It’ll be worse if he waits, but not too much worse, up to a point. He just can’t quite get a feel for how far away that point is, and he doesn’t want it to get worse.

Grumbling, he makes his way to the kitchen, going to get some water. He startles a little when he finds someone already there, and he blinks at Key for a moment, watching them sort herbs and flowers and ingredients with the familiarity of someone who’s done it for years, a look of intense concentration on their face.

Taemin hums. “You look pretty.”

They lift an eyebrow. They’re wearing an overlarge shirt, probably Minho’s, and a pair of shorts. They look like they’ve been awake for maybe 10 minutes, tops, and their hair is more than slightly ruffled. Most of the buttons on their shirt are undone, just a few in the middle to keep it from being entirely open, and Taemin squints for a moment before concluding that nope, they’re probably not wearing a bra.

“Okay,” Key says after a second, and Taemin lets his eyes move back upwards, blinking sleepily at Key who sighs slightly. “What do you want then?”

Taemin pouts. “Why do I have to want anything for you to be pretty?”

Key shakes their head. “Because you’re up at 10’oclock on a Sunday morning and openly staring at my boobs.”

Taemin feels the heat creep onto his face, the blush obvious on his cheeks, and highly considers turning into a cat immediately. But he doesn’t, because even like this, Jonghyun’s scent is here too, clinging to places where he’s been -- the table where he’s eaten, the counters where he’s leaned against them, and, god, one spot on the island that smells so strongly of him and Jinki and cleaner all mingled together that it’s not hard to tell what they did there and then tried to hide.

Taemin doesn’t realize how stiff he is until Key reaches out, touching his shoulder and pressing, forcing Taemin to go let go of some of the tension.

“Okay,” Key says, looking over him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taemin shudders and shakes his head. “It’s just-- the, you know…”

“Your heat, yeah.” Key says it so easily, so matter-of-factly. “I can feel how hot your skin is through your shirt, Tae.”

Taemin pouts. “I just have to wait until Jonghyunnie gets home. I’ll be okay,” he lies. “It’s not like I can help it.”

Key pauses for a moment and then steps back. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” Taemin repeats, prompting, and then he perks up, eyes going bright. “Could you make me something? Could you make it go away?”

Key frowns to themself, running their fingers over the countertop where their supplies are laid out. “I don’t know. I could try, but I can’t promise anything. It’d be guessing at best -- none of us even know why you have a heat, Tae. It doesn’t make biological sense or anything. And f*cking around with magic…”

“It’s a bad idea, I know,” Taemin says. “But it’s worth a shot, right? And it’s not like you’ve ever poisoned any of us before.”

“Thanks for the trust,” Key says, rolling their eyes. “Alright. Go sit down. I’ll bring you something.”

“You’re the best,” Taemin sighs, and promptly doesn’t do as he’s told, instead shuffling forward and wrapping his arms around Key’s waist, nuzzling into the crook of their neck.

They stiffen, just slightly, unprepared, and then go lax in his hold. “I always forget how cuddly you are like this. You’re almost as bad as Jongin.”

“Rude,” Taemin huffs, but he doesn’t let go, just moves as Key needs him to, watching with sleepy eyes over their shoulder as they mix ingredients, pausing every so often.

They mostly use herbs and spices and some sort of blue, powdery stuff that Taemin can’t identify, and he’s mostly just glad that Key isn’t mixing in anything too gross. Though at this point, he’d drink it anyways, because even Key’s warmth is affecting him a little, making him feel flushed. He’s not needy yet, but the warmth makes him feel almost feverish, dazed and a little clingy.

He only moves because Key nudges him off, telling him to go heat the kettle. Taemin does it obediently, using the purified water that Key always uses for their teas -- too many chemicals in the tap water and it can mess the whole thing up, apparently.

Once the kettle is on, Taemin settles back, wanting to cling to Key again but also wanting to give them a break. After a moment, Key sighs, reaching out for him and pulling him in. “Come on.”

Taemin wants to say thank you, but that feels embarrassing, so instead he buries his face in their throat and waits, enjoying their warmth until the kettle goes off with a shrill noise and Key moves away to grab it, pouring the water over the mixture they made and sighing. It takes a long moment, and then the mixture begins to shimmer slightly. It’s almost like there’s just extra light bouncing off the surface, but it’s more incandescent, the magic glimmering within it. It smells sweet, and Taemin’s mouth actually waters.

“Drink,” Key says, after a minute longer, pressing it into his hand.

Taemin takes a sip, and then another, and after a moment he’s gulping it down. It tastes sweet and somehow cold despite it being a warm drink, and it’s burning his tongue a little but he can’t stop. It makes him shiver, the heat under his skin easing, and Taemin exhales, a tiny, “oh,” of noise.

Key takes the drink from him, and asks, “Taemin?”

“I--” Taemin starts, and then he’s crumpling, gasping a sharp inhale as the warmth under his skin bursts, sudden and hard and awful, heat exploding inside of him. He looks up to see Key staring at him, horror in their eyes. He moans desperately.

“Oh god,” Key says. “Tae, are you okay?”

“Please,” Taemin breathes, and it comes out breathless and distressed, almost a mewl. Everything seems hazy, too bright, his eyes blown out. He’s trembling, and his legs don’t want to support him. He makes to move and half-collapses again, letting out a little wail as his pants shift, brushing over his co*ck, suddenly so hard that it hurts.

Key sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh god.”

Taemin whines, trying his best to shuffle closer, and Key crouches, reaching out to cup Taemin’s face. Taemin whimpers, nuzzling into the touch. He’s panting, breath bouncing off of Key’s skin and back against his face.

“Baby, you’re burning up,” Key whispers. “God. I’m sorry. I didn’t think--”

Taemin moans again, low in his throat, and then it turns into a sob, thick and weak. “Boonie,” he mumbles, needing to be closer, trying to press closer into their hold and after a moment they let him, opening their arms and letting them in. He only makes it so far before he’s nuzzling at their throat, mouthing at it, teeth scraping. “Kibummie, please, I wanna eat you out.”

Key makes a tight noise. “Shh, baby,” they whisper. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s so gentle, but it feels like a rejection, and Taemin can’t catch the pained sob he lets out. Key… Key doesn’t want-- Key doesn’t like-- it’s why Taemin never sleeps with them, even though Key is gorgeous and Tae wants; Key only very, very rarely wants to participate, as much as they like to watch. Key doesn’t want this, and Taemin feels like he’s dying.

“Let me. Let me help you, okay?” Key whispers, and Taemin shudders and jerks.

“N-no,” Taemin whispers. “You don’t-- god, I’m… I can… J-Jong or Jinki or… Or Minho, I don’t-- I can wait…”

He’s lying. He’s lying so hard. He doesn’t feel like he can. It’s all so much, all at once, and he feels drugged, everything going too fast and too slow all at once, and even Key’s touch, even the barest brush of their fingers along the skin of his cheeks, his arms -- places that shouldn’t feel good -- it makes him want. He wants Key, more than in an indistinct way. It’s there and real and Taemin needs, and Key is right there and it’s Key, and he loves them and trusts them and they’re a part of his coven, and Taemin needs so badly.

“Shh, shh, I’m here. I’m right here. If you don’t want me…”

“I do,” Taemin whimpers, pushing against Key almost insistently because god. “But you don’t…”

“I do. Tae, I want to help. I want you. I just -- I don’t want to be touched. I’m sorry. But I’ll take care of you. If you want me,” Key offers, and then, voice just the tiniest bit unsure, “Tell me you want me?”

“God, please, yes, please,” Taemin whines, grappling for them helplessly. “Please I need-- no, I… I mean…”

His head is a mess, and Key starts to pull back a little, willing to let him go. Taemin couldn’t think of anything worse right now, and he whimpers, clinging tightly. “No, no, wait, I… I need-- I… I need something, but I can-- I don’t… I need anyone, but I want you. Please. You never-- I always want, and you never--”

“I’m sorry. I know,” Key whispers. “But don’t think about then. I’m here now. I want to help now. Let me?”

“Please,” Taemin chokes out.

Key nods, rubbing a thumb over Taemin’s cheek gently, and Taemin whimpers at even that, the buzz it creates under his skin. And that’s before they pull him into their lap.

Taemin goes pliant, chest heaving as he tries to breathe, and the sound he let outs as Key’s hand brushes over the waistband of his pants is pathetic at best. Key doesn’t stop though, doesn’t let up. They pull Taemin’s pants down, freeing his co*ck, and wrap their fingers around it.

Taemin screams, body arching past the point it would be comfortable if he were a normal human. It hurts. He’s so sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He squirms in Key’s arms, mouth slack, and he needs so badly, wants so much.

“W-wanna,” he stutters, trying to get the thought out, but he can’t, because Key moves their hand, starting a slow steady pace, and Taemin crumples into them, curled in their lap and shaking, his breathing broken and hiccupping.

“Shh,” Key hushes him, and Taemin shakes his head because he can’t. “Shh, be good.”

Taemin lets out a broken hiccupping noise, and Key lifts their other hand, pressing their fingers to his mouth. He takes them in easily, but he can’t even get himself to suck properly. He licks desperately, tongueing them, but mostly they just press onto his tongue, muffling his noises and stretching out his lips, and Taemin can’t help but to lean into it, letting Key take care of muffling the sobs and wails that tumble out of his throat as Key jerks him off slow and steady, their large hand just shy of rough on his co*ck as he shakes.

“Come on, baby,” Key says, voice soft in his ear, and that’s all it takes. Taemin comes, shooting come up his stomach. It does nothing. He’s burning up, shaking in Key’s hold, and Key pulls their fingers free of Taemin’s mouth. “Lay back for me. I’ve got you. I’ll fix this.”

Taemin does as he’s told, sagging against Key, but he’s still hard and Key doesn’t stop. Taemin turns his head enough to bury his face into Key’s neck, using the skin to muffle the plaintive little sobs that rip their way up his throat as Key works their hand over Taemin’s co*ck harder, faster. Key’s breathing is getting uneven as they get a little worked up, but their hands are steady, and they drop the one that was in Taemin’s mouth down, nudging his legs wider over their lap, reaching down and down and --

Taemin screams again, just the touch of Key’s fingers making him seize, thrashing in their lap. “Please, please, need, please--” he stutters out, voice thick. “Please, want you, please.”

“Needy,” Key whispers, and it sounds almost more sad than it does teasing, but Taemin whines against Key’s throat and then muffles his shout as Key wriggles a spit-slick finger inside of him.

Taemin comes again, so hard that the edges of his vision fuzz, darkening his vision for a moment before it comes back, and Taemin whines brokenly, looking down to see the come dribbling down Key’s fist.

“‘m,, f*ck I-- please,” he gasps, and it’s his voice, but it doesn’t sound like him. It sounds wrecked. Everything is the heat and the need and god, god, f*ck. “Key, please, want you. Again, please.”

“Shh, baby. You’ve gotta calm down for me,” Key whispers, and they finally let go of his co*ck, bringing their hand up to cover his mouth, quieting Taemin with a hand soaked in his own come.

He moans, feeling helpless, another flare of heat welling up in him. Taemin tries to f*ck his co*ck up, rutting into nothing, but Key doesn’t touch him now. Taemin whimpers, and he licks at Key’s hand, lapping at his own come.

Key crooks their finger and Taemin shouts. The sound tears at his throat, hurting so badly, but he doesn’t care. He wants. He needs.

He repeats Key’s name like a mantra, a broken chant that Key quiets with their hand as they press another finger inside, and then they’re f*cking Taemin, hard and fast and merciless, and Taemin devolves into nothing, into sobs and whimpers and cries, buckling against Key. He’s limp, and Key is doing everything, but they don’t seem to mind, just shushing him with their mouth near his ear, not quite a kiss as they f*ck Taemin.

Taemin comes again, dry, pangs wracking his whole body, and Key doesn’t ease up, doesn’t stop. They don’t let Taemin go until he’s coming again, one last time, his body one drawn out line of tension.

He goes slack rapidly, drooping and barely conscious, and Key strokes their fingers a few more times over his prostate. Taemin sobs weakly, all pain, and Key pulls both of their hands away. They’re sticky and messy, but Key cups Taemin’s face with them, tilting it up gently. “Shh, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright. Talk to me…”

“I--” Taemin starts, and it hurts to speak, his throat destroyed from screaming. He shakes his head helplessly.

Key makes a sound, dropping one hand to brush over Taemin’s throat sadly. “I thought it might not work, but I didn’t think it’d be like that…”

Taemin curls against them, balled up and shaking. Key strokes him gently, like they would a cat, petting over him so carefully. After a bit, they lean down, pressing a single kiss to the top of his head. “You’re okay,” they whisper, and it’s more of a plea than a reassurance.

Taemin shivers. “‘M…” he starts, and then pauses to take stock. He hurts. He’s aching all over, and his limbs feel heavy and numb and his throat hurts like fire. But the heat is barely a warmth under his skin, less even than this morning, more like the end of a heat than a beginning. He nods jerkily.

Key doesn’t say anything, and when Taemin looks up, they’re biting their lip, looking more uncertain than Taemin has ever seen them. He frowns softly. “Key--”

“No, baby, shh. Don’t talk, okay? You--”

“Key, I’m fine,” he croaks anyways, talking through the soreness. “Thank you, I’m-- f*ck. I’m good.”

Key takes a long, deep breath. “Let’s-- come on, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” they say, and a tiny bit of their demeanor is back, but their voice sounds a little fragile as they ask, “Do you… do you trust me to make something for your throat?”

Taemin gives them a confused look. “Of course I do,” he says, all honesty. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Key’s face folds, almost into sadness, and then they squeeze Taemin gently, their voice no less shaky on their, “f*ck.”

They stand slowly, half carrying Taemin, and Taemin doesn’t shift if only so that he can drink the tea Key gives him a moment later, the drink immediately numbing most of the pain in his throat. It does nothing for the rest of him though, and he stumbles to the bathroom with heavy legs. Key follows, and they don’t baby him, but they do stabilize him when he stumbles a bit.

Taemin leans into them after, and Key doesn’t stop him, just holds him close. And if anyone finds it weird when they get home -- Minho and Jongin from a run, and Jinki and Jonghyun from their date -- to find Key sitting on the couch, shirt still half unbuttoned so that the cat curled on their chest can have skin contact as he naps, head tucked up under Key’s chin, no one says anything.

Chapter 3: Jouska

Chapter Text

Waking up after sleeping naturally instead of using borrowed sleep for days at a time is always the same, strange and familiar all at once. Jonghyun always feels lethargic, slow and sleepy when he first wakes, and while he never really dreams, his dreams in these kind of sleeps are always vivid, always realistic.

So realistic, in fact, that when Jonghyun wakes up this time, it’s to too-tight underwear and heat curling through his stomach. He can still remember the dream, can still feel the weight of Jinki’s hands on his hips and the taste of Key’s fingers in his mouth, the slide of Jinki’s co*ck between his thighs and the words they’d both murmured as Jinki f*cked his thighs and Key f*cked his mouth to keep him quiet. He hadn’t come yet - hadn’t been allowed to - and he’s already aching for it, mind filling in the details, by both imagination and memory.

And f*ck, it feels so good to rut against the bed like this - the sheets still smell like Taemin and even though he wasn’t in the dream, Jonghyun can imagine, can see Taemin growing impatient and pushing his co*ck in alongside Key’s fingers, can see Minho lifting him out of Jinki’s lap so he can have his turn, can see even Jongin there, uncertain but still wanting and taking whenever he can.

He’s going to come soon, and the sheets will be messy and he can’t quite keep the sounds in, but Jonghyun doesn’t care, not when he’s so close, but then the door creaks open and Jinki’s low laugh fills the room.

“Wow, Jonghyunnie...you’re certainly needy today.”

And guh, because Jinki’s here, and Jinki can make him feel good, and he wants. “Jinki, I dreamt about you.”

“Did you, baby boy? Gonna tell me what you dreamt about?” With those words, Jinki sits on the edge of Jonghyun’s bed, putting out waves of arousal that make Jonghyun curl in on himself. He suddenly thinks of Taemin, of how needy he gets during his heats, and he wonders how close this would be to one of Taemin’s usual heats.

“Jonghyunnie, are you going to be good and tell me?”

“Ah, Jinki please-” Jonghyun lurches towards Jinki and Jinki catches him easily, hands large and firm and warm against his skin. “Jinki, please.”

“Use your words, baby boy.”

And all Jonghyun can whimper is, “Daddy,” over and over until Jinki presses a kiss to his forehead. With the touch of his lips to Jonghyun’s skin comes cooling relief and Jonghyun noses up into Jinki, both grateful for the relief and also...upset.

“Tell me, Jonghyunnie.”

“I...you were there. You and Key, I was in your lap and you were f*cking my thighs and Key’s fingers were in my mouth and...you were both saying things and you didn’t let me come and please, Jinki-”

“What kind of things, Jonghyunnie?” In one easy movement, Jinki hauls Jonghyun up and into his lap, just like in the dream.

“You told me how good I was and how pretty I looked for you, and…” Jonghyun hesitates, shakes his head even as he begins to rock his hips back down into Jinki’s and up into Jinki’s hand petting his co*ck through his underwear.

“You are pretty, Jonghyunnie. These are pretty too.” Jinki’s fingers flirt with the hem of Jonghyun’s panties, partially to tease, mostly to praise. And they are - pink, delicate things that Key had bought for him.

“Thank you, daddy…”

“Let’s take them off, hm? Daddy wants to see your pretty co*ck.”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and he nods, lifting his hips for Jinki to slide them down. When he sits back again, he can feel even more clearly the hard edge of Jinki’s co*ck against his skin, and he wiggles against it, just a little.

“Feels good, pretty baby. You want daddy to f*ck you?”

“Not...not there,” Jonghyun manages. He falls quiet when Jinki’s hand comes back, not quite stroking him, but letting him f*ck up into his hand.

“Then where, baby? Your pretty mouth? Gonna let daddy f*ck your throat?”

Jonghyun pauses, shakes his head with difficulty. Because that’s good, but just not...not now. Not yet. “Jinki.”

“Hm? Use your words, Jonghyunnie. Or should daddy choose?”

“Want...my thighs. Please?”

“Good boy,” Jinki murmurs. “Get up for me, baby. Need the lube.”

And while Jonghyun obediently goes over to the drawer, Jinki slips from his sweatpants and catches Jonghyun when he comes falling back into his arms. “Can I...?”

“Of course, baby.”

Jonghyun stretches up to kiss Jinki’s cheek as a wordless display of gratitude, then uncaps the lube and lets some drizzle into his hand before gently taking Jinki’s co*ck in his hand and covering it with lube in slow strokes. “Daddy, I...Key too.”

“You want us both? Greedy baby.”

“Not greedy! Just...want a lot.”

“I know, baby. Daddy’s just teasing. But are you sure that’s all you want? Not Tae, or another puppy to play with?” As he speaks, Jinki begins to spread lube in the dip of Jonghyun’s thighs, making sure to keep the touch of his fingers gentle against Jonghyun’s sensitive skin.

And Jonghyun can’t help the whine that spills from his throat, he can’t. “Please,” and now it’s almost a sob, “Jinki, please.”

“Okay, baby. So good for me.” With that, Jinki lifts Jonghyun up and turns him around so they’re pressed back to chest, and when he spreads Jonghyun out over his lap, Jonghyun shivers. The sound he makes in the back of his throat is nothing compared to the sound that falls from his lips when Jinki’s co*ck slips in between his thighs.

“Is that good, Jonghyunnie?”

Jonghyun nods, hand flying up to cover his mouth so his whimpers and whines aren’t too loud. They still slip out though, and Jinki grips Jonghyun’s hand in his to tug it back down. “Let me hear you, puppy.”

A sharp gasp and Jonghyun nods, letting Jinki bring his hand down to where Jinki’s co*ck is slipping between his thighs. “Feel, Jonghyunnie.”

Jonghyun’s fingers tremble when he does as he’s told, and Jinki sends another shudder of heat through him just for the way Jonghyun doubles over and moans.

“Daddy, Jinki, please.”

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want, and be specific.”

“Want...want you inside. Please, I’ll be good and just...please.”

“Very cute, Jonghyunnie,” and then, “isn’t he?”

When Jonghyun looks up, he sees Key standing there in the doorway. There’s a grin flirting with their lips and they push themself off the wall, eyes on Jonghyun only. “Very pretty. Pretty for us.”

“Key-” Jonghyun chokes on their name, “Key, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me, please.” And even though he knows how Key feels about being touched, he can’t help looking at them, at their face and their eyes and their lips and their body hidden behind loose clothes.

“Be specific, Jonghyunnie.”

“Wanna come.”

“Where, baby? Where do you want to come?”

And Jonghyun knows that Key doesn’t like to be touched, he knows, but he can’t help wanting- “Wanna come inside, please.”

“Inside where, hm? Use your words.”

“Inside you, please.”

Another little laugh, and Key shakes their head as they come closer. “Pretty baby, asking so nicely for me. Such a good boy, you must really want it, huh?”

Another shudder of heat runs through Jonghyun’s body and he nods, swaying forward and into Key when they get close enough to touch. They don’t protest, not even when Jonghyun buries his face in their chest. They just stroke his hair with their hands - when they laugh, it rumbles through Jonghyun’s whole body and sends him spiraling. “Gonna make me feel good, baby?”

Jonghyun can’t even answer; all he can do is whimper as Jinki’s co*ck slides between his thighs and his fingers press bruises against his hips, as Key pets his hair and murmurs little praises in his ears. And it doesn’t even take long, not really, but as soon as Key tells - orders - him to come, Jonghyun is coming all up his stomach in spurts that make him whine and whimper and shake against Jinki’s body.

“Good boy,” Key murmurs, and they’re still petting his hair, and Jinki is still f*cking his thighs, slow and steady. “Be a good puppy and finish Jinki off, hm?”

Jonghyun nods and slips from Jinki’s lap to kneel in front of him, opening his mouth and waiting for Jinki to slip his co*ck in his mouth and for Key to guide him up and down, show him how to take it all.

And Jinki, Jinki groans and f*cks his hips up as Key holds him in place, tells him what a good boy he’s being and how pretty he looks on his knees for them. Jonghyun wants to tell Jinki that he wants him to come on his face, wants to be pretty for them, but he can’t and it’s so good and everything is so much that when Jinki finally does come down his throat, all Jonghyun can do is moan his approval.

“Our good baby boy,” Jinki murmurs, hand on Jonghyun’s cheek and eyes warm with pride. He’s putting out waves of approval and Jonghyun is warm with it. It’s easy for Jinki to pick him up after that, to set him in his lap and kiss his forehead and cheeks and mouth, and it’s easy for Key to stroke his hair and mumble quiet praises, and it’s so, so easy for Jonghyun to snuggle between the both of them so that he’s warm and safe and small between them.

Chapter 4: Aperio

Chapter Text

“Jonghyunnie, breathe,” Jinki whispers, sliding his hand back onto Jonghyun’s thigh as it jiggles, half to stop the motion and half to get some sort of touch between then, Jinki’s fingers sliding into the holes on Jonghyun’s pants, pushing calm into him.

Jonghyun whines quietly, but his knee stops bouncing, and he sinks into Jinki’s side, fidgeting. When he speaks, it’s a breathless keen, voice just barely too loud. “I’m trying.”

Jinki glances around surreptitiously. They’re tucked away into the back corner of a large theater, and there’s only about two dozen other people in the entire theater, scattered throughout. No one is close to them, and no one seems to be looking their way. That’s for the best, but that doesn’t stop Jinki from lowering his mouth to Jonghyun’s ear and murmuring, “Quiet, baby boy. People are going to hear you.”

Jonghyun sucks in a quick tight breath. “I--”

“You what?” Jinki whispers, a little bit teasing, and he runs his fingers a little higher. Jonghyun shudders violently, and Jinki squeezes. “Tell me?”

“I… I want them to,” Jonghyun whispers, the softness of his voice belying his words.

“Want them to what?” It’s just teasing now, just Jinki making Jonghyun squirm, and he can’t see it in the flickering darkness of the theater, but he knows Jonghyun’s cheeks are flushed with warmth. Jinki reaches across himself to cup his jaw, just to prove it to himself, taking in the way Jonghyun’s skin feels hot to the touch under his palm. “Tell me, baby.”

Jonghyun turns his face into Jinki’s hand and shakes his head, a tiny, quick refusal. He doesn’t say anything, but after a moment he mouths something into Jinki’s palm, only just familiar enough for Jinki to make out the shape of the word daddy on Jonghyun’s lips.

Jinki smiles, still cupping Jonghyun’s face, and then presses down, sealing his hand over Jonghyun’s mouth as he lets his hand finally drift up, rocking his palm into Jonghyun’s clothed co*ck.

Jonghyun manages, just barely, to bite back a whimper, but his body arches off the seat and Jinki can hear the faint rhythmic buzzing coming from him -- the toy Jinki pressed inside of him earlier, stretching him open slowly as Jonghyun pleaded for it, for Jinki to fill him up, to tease him. Jinki’s only doing what Jonghyun wants, because Jonghyun has been so good for him, deserves a reward for how good he is. And this -- Jonghyun strung out and so very close to being on display -- is definitely a reward.

Jinki doesn’t think anyone else can hear the sound. It’s faint, even to his own ears, hidden under the soundtrack that plays through the speakers under some story that Jinki has long since lost track of. They picked a less popular movie, just for this, because he knows Jonghyun’s not paying attention either. No, if Jinki’s able to hear the soft buzzing, he knows that Jonghyun is hyper aware of it.

And he’s not wrong, because Jonghyun slouches back, curling into himself to try and quiet the noise as he pants helplessly against Jinki’s hand.

Jinki strokes Jonghyun’s cheek with his thumb. “Let’s try that again, baby. Tell me, hmm?”

Jonghyun whimpers so softly, cut off by the skin of Jinki’s palm, and he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. But when he shuffles slightly, burying his face into Jinki’s shoulder, his eyes are wet and he grabs for Jinki’s front, clutching at his shirt. He’s trembling, his whole body shaking.

Jinki presses down again, rubbing over Jonghyun’s co*ck more firmly now, not letting up. “Does it feel good, baby?” he whispers, tipping his head down so his lips brush over the curve of Jonghyun’s ear as he speaks.

Jonghyun nods, a jerky, helpless motion. He presses his mouth together obviously under Jinki’s hands, clearly trying to be quiet, but he’s still making the tiniest noises, just barely loud enough for Jinki to hear. He knows that to Jonghyun they must sound like thunder.

“You’re so noisy, Jonghyunnie,” Jinki teases, voice low. “They’re going to hear you. They’re going to look and see. They’re going to see you squirming for me, with your toy in your ass and my hand on your co*ck. They’re going to be jealous, baby, seeing you all pretty for me. They’re going to want a turn.”

Jonghyun makes a quiet, strangled sob, just the tiniest bit louder, enough that he might actually draw attention. But it’s dark in here and if anyone looks, Jinki can’t tell. Most of his attention is on Jonghyun anyways, and he lets go of Jonghyun’s chin and curls Jonghyun close, pushing out a slow wave of indifference toward the rest of the room, pushing it out to keep everyone’s attentions away. To Jonghyun, who he’s touching still, he puts out warmth and love and desire.

Jonghyun gasps softly, clinging closer, and Jinki carefully, slowly, unbuttons his pants, slipping his hand inside. Jonghyun gives a full-body shudder, arching his body up again, and the buzzing is still a faint presence, still there, and Jinki almost wants to touch, to push the toy further inside of Jonghyun, but he doesn’t have to. Jonghyun is jerking and thrashing under every touch, his movements almost more noticeable than his sounds now.

Jonghyun is so easy for him like this, so compliant at the thought that other people might see him. Like this, Jonghyun wants nothing more than to be good for Jinki, and he bites his lips together and shudders. The need to beg is written there, all over Jonghyun’s face, but he doesn’t dare open his mouth, Jinki knows. If Jonghyun opens his mouth now, Jinki has no doubt what kind of sounds will spill out, and then they really will be caught.

Jonghyun’s hands are fists, knuckles pale where they grip the front of Jinki’s shirt, and his motions have become more intent, more needy. Jinki smiles, sharper than normal, not quite a kind smile.

“You’re not allowed to come unless you ask for permission,” he reminds him, and the whine Jonghyun lets out is almost pathetic. “You’re a good boy, Jonghyunnie. Good boys ask for what they want, remember?”

Jonghyun presses his face into Jinki’s neck, breathing heavily against Jinki’s throat. He’s halfway out of his seat, half into Jinki’s, like he’s trying to crawl into Jinki’s lap, and Jinki bites back a laugh, running his fingertips down Jonghyun’s back, down and down and so dangerously close to where Jonghyun wants it most -- always wants it most.

Jonghyun drops his mouth open in a breathless gasp of, “please.”

It’s too loud -- a lot too loud, and Jinki has to really concentrate to put out enough indifference to keep people from looking, keep people from caring enough about what they just heard to turn and see. Jonghyun goes still and quiet, frozen in the realization of how loud he just was. He’s flushed, his face burning in the crook of Jinki’s throat, but Jinki knows him well enough by now to know that it’s not even close to a bad thing.

He doesn’t even try to make Jonghyun give him more. All he has to do is lower his mouth to Jonghyun’s ear and whisper, “They’re all gonna watch you come for me, baby boy.”

Jonghyun does, gasping a broken helpless noise into Jinki’s throat, and Jinki is just prepared enough to hold that level of emotion, to make sure that no matter how he had teased Jonghyun, they have privacy for this, for the way Jonghyun shakes apart under his touch, coming in his boxers and coating Jinki’s hand with come.

Jonghyun is beautiful like this -- beautiful and so, so soft; Jinki doesn’t want him to ever have to face the stares he would get after.

Jinki presses a kiss to Jonghyun’s temple and pulls his hand free, finding napkins to clean it off. Once he’s clean, he reaches down again, into his own pocket, and flips the control to off, letting Jonghyun finally, finally relax. Jonghyun melts against him, just for a moment, and Jinki gives him a second to breathe before he pulls him carefully into his lap, holding him close.

“You’re okay, pretty baby,” Jinki coos. “I’ve got you. You were so good for me.”

Jonghyun nuzzles into him, snuggling close. It takes him a few long moments before he speaks, voice quiet but drifty. “Daddy,” he mumbles, and it’s soft enough that Jinki relaxes a little, letting his powers fade, letting the magic wane. If anyone looks back now, all they’ll see is a couple cuddling, maybe a bit more than publically acceptable, but still innocent.

If only they knew.

“You did so well for me,” Jinki murmurs. “My good boy.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Jonghyun whispers, and it’s so small, so soft. Jonghyun is radiating contentment, and Jinki feels his heart swell with warmth as he settles back. “Sleep until the movie’s over, baby. I’ll carry you back to the car.”

Jonghyun doesn’t even try to protest.

Chapter 5: Incidere

Chapter Text

The first time Jongin sees any of them cut themselves, he goes into near panic mode. Maybe it’s not the best way to have been introduced to it either, because Jongin is in the kitchen, halfway asleep on his paws, his head pillowed into Jinki’s thigh as he goes over some book-keeping documents at the kitchen table. It’s a calm moment, an easy one, and then Jongin smells the sharp, metallic burst of blood, and he’s on his feet in a moment.

At the counter, Key has their hand cupped over a bowl, and they’re dragging a knife across their palm slowly, blood dribbling down and splashing into the bowl with a thick, liquid noise. When Jongin starts barking, unhappy and frantic, Key jostles, hissing and dropping the blade to the counter.

“Jesus, Jongin,” they say, scowling at him in a way that makes Jongin’s ears and tail droop. “Don’t do that. I almost cut my hand open.”

Jinki looks up, a frown on his lips. “Key? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Key says. “I just wasn’t expecting Jongin to start barking all of a sudden. What’s up with you?”

Jongin whines, not really wanting to turn back right now, and Jinki reaches down, running his fingers through Jongin’s fur before he says, “He’s… worried?”

Jongin whines and nudges into Jinki’s hand in agreement, and Key lets out a sigh. “Were you freaked about about me cutting my hand?”

Jongin whines again and nods, a completely human motion that he’s just had to adopt for at least basic communication when he’s like this. He doesn’t want Key hurt, and he doesn’t understand why Key was hurting themself, and he doesn’t have the words to say any of that. He shuffles a little, knowing it would be best to turn human, but he doesn’t really want to right now.

Key sighs, walking over and kneeling down in front of him, wrists resting on their knees, probably to keep from smearing blood down their leg. “Jongin, it’s fine. It’s blood magic. I need it for something I’m working on. It’s just a small cut. I’ve done a lot worse.”

Jongin whines even louder, the thought that Key has hurt themself worse making him panic. He snuffles weakly, pushing into Key’s hand and licking Key’s palm, dragging his tongue over the cut in an attempt to clean it somewhat, a small buzz of magic going through him as he does.

Key inhales a short breath and pulls away gently, ruffling Jonghyun’s fur with their other hand. “It’s okay, Jonginnie. Really.”

Jongin whimpers, but he doesn’t follow as Key stands up. “Let me go bandage this,” Key says, and they leave, leaving behind that bowl and the tang of blood. Jongin whines again, turning and burying his face into Jinki’s thigh, hoping that -- yes.

Jinki pets him slowly, and Jongin feels a sense of serenity flow into him through Jinki’s fingertips as they rub up and down the back of his neck. “Jongin-ah, breathe. It’s not strange for us.”

Jongin jerks his head up at him, staring at him.

Jinki laughs softly. “Taemin is a nature witch. Everything comes naturally to him. But I’m sure he’s pricked his finger on roses before and that rose grew better. He doesn’t need to, but blood is magic -- sometimes, when you need more power than you have, having blood is helpful.”

Jongin whimpers again, and looks over Jinki’s face, a question in his eyes. He doesn’t know if Jinki can read it though his emotions or if he’s just good at guessing, but after a moment Jinki sighs.

“Key does it most frequently, but I use it enough. It’s mixed into some of the oils I use for work -- a drop or two per cup of oil, diluted down to almost nothing. But I use it when people come to me and I can feel pain deeper than they’ll admit. Jonghyun doesn’t need to much. Minho uses it sometimes, for scrying. And Taemin doesn’t particularly need to, but… he did use it in the ceremony to create you.”

Jongin didn’t know that. Knowing it now makes him almost squirm, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. He changes finally, shivering a little at the feeling of bare skin instead of fur -- he’d changed straight out of bed this morning, and he’s only in his boxers, and the tile of the kitchen is cold against his bare skin.

“Does it hurt?”

It feels like an important question somehow, and he needs to know. It feels like there’s an obvious answer here -- of course it hurts. Even though Jongin knows that Jinki saying it will make him feel even more upset, he still feels like he needs to hear it.

But Jinki shakes his head slowly, not in answer, but almost in fond amusem*nt, a smile creeping onto the corner of his lips. “It depends,” he says honestly. “Some people handle it better than others. Key tolerates it well. Taemin whines about it, but he does well. Minho -- hmm, as far as I know, Minho actually enjoys it somewhat.”

Jongin goes blank. He has no idea what to say about that, and he gapes for a moment, blinking.

“Oh,” he says, brow furrowing and then whispers, “He likes it?”

Jinki hums. “I think so. I’ve never had an opportunity to see, but Key tells me that even sometimes, outside of needing blood...”

Jongin sucks in a tight breath. He can’t imagine Minho like that. He and Minho are close, and he can’t imagine Minho looking up at Key and asking for… for what? To be cut?

He tries to picture it, but he can’t. He can’t, because he’s so used to Minho being above him except in very particular circ*mstances. He’s used to that, and his brain can’t seem to separate the two, and then his thoughts drift and suddenly it’s him, underneath Minho, a knife pressed against his skin.

Jongin gasps, shaking his head like it might clear the thought, because even more so he can’t imagine Minho like that at all. Key, maybe. Or… or…

“What are you thinking, Jonginnie?” Jinki murmurs, like he can’t feel the sudden wave of startled, confused arousal. “Tell me.”

Jongin whimpers quietly, a barely-human noise. “I don’t-- I don’t want to be hurt,” Jongin whines, squirming a little. “I’m not…”

“Jonginnie,” Jinki murmurs, reaching out to touch his jaw. Jongin waits for the emotions, the warping, but Jinki holds still and nothing comes. When Jongin looks at him, confused, Jinki shakes his head. “I won’t change your feelings about this. You have to tell me what you want, without me editing that.”

Jongin squirms, leaning into the touch a little. “I… I like the thought,” he whispers, “but I don’t… I’m scared it’ll hurt.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jinki murmurs. “Like I said, that’s Minho. Key and Taemin only tolerate it.”

Jongin bites his lower lip, teeth pressing in. “And… and you?”

“I don’t dislike it,” he murmurs. “But I prefer, well-- you know me. It’s rare that I let people do things to me.”

Jongin’s breath hitches. “You want to… to do that? To me?”

Jinki co*cks his head gently to the side. “If you want me to,” he says. “Yes. Yes, I really do.”

And Jongin shivers, mouth falling open a little. “Oh.”

“Would you like that, Jonginnie?” Jinki says, fingers drifting along Jongin’s jaw, and Jongin leans into it. He doesn’t even think about it, just finds himself nodding gently. Jinki smiles. “Can you tell me exactly what you want?”

Jongin swallows thickly. “I want to try. I want you to cut me.”

“You’re precious,” Jinki murmurs and leans forward, kissing him slowly, gently. And then he stands. “Go lay down on my bed, Jonginnie? It should be empty. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Jongin stands and obeys. He knows that Jinki is giving him an out, giving him time to think, time to consider what he’s asked for. Jongin passes the bowl on the counter, the dropped knife, and he feels a pang of worry, but… but he trust Jinki, and he knows Jinki will stop if he asks him to.

Jinki is infinitely careful, as shown by the way he follows Jongin minutes later, armed with a towel, alcohol wipes, and bandages of differing sizes. He lays them out carefully, taking a seat beside Jongin. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs, eyebrows furrowing. “Jongin…”

“I’m nervous,” Jongin says. “Start. Start so I don’t have to be nervous anymore.”

Jinki frowns a little and drifts his palm down Jongin’s chest, pressing just slightly. Jongin feels a wash of emotion -- warmth and affection and reassurance. It seems surface though, a little wispy around the edges, and Jongin realizes that it’s not Jinki pushing emotion into him -- it’s Jinki transmitting his own, letting Jongin feel what he feels.

Jongin shivers and lets himself go limp. “Please,” he whispers.

“Talk to me, Jonginnie. Keep talking to me. I want to know how you feel,” Jinki murmurs, even though Jongin knows he can tell with a touch.

He’s trying to get Jongin to distract himself, and Jongin nods jerkily and lets himself be distracted. “I’m-- I want you to… to keep touching me,” Jongin whispers. “Please, like this. Like…”

He fumbles then, straining for a way to phrase the thought so that it doesn’t sound stupid. But he wants Jinki to keep touching him softly so that, even if it hurts, he doesn’t feel like Jinki’s hurting him on purpose. Except he is on purpose, and if Jongin says that Jinki will call this off because he knows Jinki wants to really hurt him even less than Jongin wants to be hurt.

“I will,” Jinki murmurs. “I’ll keep touching you. Don’t worry.” Jinki smooths his palm down to Jongin’s thigh. It’s not sexual, not really, but his hand is warm and he’s still letting Jongin feel what he’s feeling; as Jinki pushes him wide, Jongin can feel a spike of desire there, can feel, just for a moment, how much Jinki wants.

“Please cut me,” Jongin whispers, voice breathless. There are nerves fluttering in his chest, and he can feel his own heart pounding, but he arches, stretching under Jinki’s gaze like he’s trying to give him more of a canvas. Maybe he is.

“You’re so pretty,” Jinki says, and Jongin feels the bed shift, and then Jinki is pressing a soft kiss to his skin, just beneath his collarbones. Jinki’s lips are gentle and plush, barely a whisper over his skin. And then there’s an edge, just slightly, and Jongin’s eyes fly open to realize that Jinki his pressed the tip of the blade against his skin.

Jongin doesn’t know when Jinki picked up the knife -- probably when his eyes were closed -- but he holds it in a steady grip, dragging slowly, and Jongin gasps as Jinki draws a long pale line down the center of his sternum -- he doesn’t cut, just scratches, the tip a threat against Jongin’s skin that’s so overwhelmingly different from what Jongin expected.

Jongin whines softly, a noise in the back of his throat. “Jinki.”

“Talk to me, Jonginnie,” Jinki urges. “Tell me.”

Jonghyun whines again. “It’s -- sharp, but… almost ticklish. Almost-- I want… harder?”

“It’ll hurt more if I go harder,” Jinki warns. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I know.” It’s reassuring to know how much Jinki means that. If Jongin yelps or cries out or says no, Jinki will stop and, at very least, check on him, talk to him. Jongin feels safe with him, with that reassurance. “Thank you. Please, more.”

“Good boy,” Jinki murmurs, and Jongin shudders bodily at the praise, cheeks flushing. He likes being a good boy. Likes that Jinki thinks he is one just because he’s polite and he’s asking and he’s being as good as he can.

Jinki pets slowly over the first mark he made, fingers trailing the line with a satisfaction that Jongin can literally feel, swirling in the pit of his stomach alongside his own. Jinki likes this, and the thought makes Jongin feel warm all over. His co*ck twitches in his boxers, and he raises his palms to his face to hide.

Jinki laughs, fingers lifting from Jongin’s skin to pry his hands from his face, and he squeezes one gently, lacing his fingers with Jongin’s to hold his hand, even as he presses the knife in again, just to one side of the first cut.

He goes just as slowly this time, just as carefully, and for a moment, Jongin whines because it feels the same -- Jinki isn’t giving him more. But Jongin gasps just as Jinki lifts the knife, and the very tail end of the cut, down near his belly, tapers into blood, beading on the surface.

Jongin bites his lip. “That-- that was it?” he whispers. “Can I--?”

“Can you…?”

Jongin knew Jinki was going to make him ask, but it doesn’t stop him from squirming, flushing under Jinki’s gaze. “Again? Harder?”

Jinki’s fingers tighten on his, and that satisfaction has turned into something hotter, something sharper. Jongin gasps.

Jinki pulls his fingers free, just for a moment, and the feeling fades, but it isn’t gone. For a moment, Jongin shifts, confused, but there’s no magic washing over him anymore, nothing from Jinki. The remnants are all him, all Jongin, the twist of desire of pleasure and indulgence -- he wants this. He does, so badly.

“Jinki,” he whines, reaching for him. “Said you’d touch me.”

Jinki drops his hand immediately, cupping Jongin’s jaw. “I will. I won’t let you go, darling.”

Jongin nods against his palm and closes his eyes, letting himself relax into Jinki. Into the knife against his skin, that long single scratch and then, longer this time, a line of heat, just shy of painful. He peeks to see the whole line of it, just a long, careful cut, barely a millimeter deep. “Oh,” he sighs, and then, “Deeper?”

He doesn’t shy away this time from the burst of desire that comes off of Jinki. It’s not just Jinki, and even if it’s a little dizzying, it’s in the best way -- he can feel how much Jinki wants him, wants to cut him, and god.

“Please,” he whimpers, and then arches at the feeling of the knife touching him again. It’s deeper now, but not by much -- all shallow, all precise, and now Jinki doesn’t pull up at the end of the line, now he curves it into a decorative spiral, one that makes Jongin gasp on the curves. “Oh.”

“Pretty,” Jinki sighs, and presses the knife down again. He gives it a second, gives Jongin time to say no, and then he cuts, easy and steady, his voice soft near Jongin’s ear and his hand steady as it cups Jongin’s jaw. “You’re so beautiful like this. I thought you might like this. You’re so good for me.”

“I do,” Jongin whines, and the words comes out strained, not because he’s lying but because he’s trying so hard to restrain himself, to hold still for Jinki. “Like it. A lot -- please, please, wanna --”

“Wanna what?” Jinki says, and flicks the knife off at the end of his curve, digging it just that tiniest bit deeper in such a quick motion that it rips a surprised cry out of Jongin.

“Jinki,” he whimpers, squirming, and reaches down shamelessly, rubbing over his boxers where his co*ck is hard and obvious. “Wanna-- wanna come while you-- please.”

Jinki bites back a tight noise, and that pulse of desire sweeps over them both again. Jinki nods. “Good boy. Touch yourself for me.”

And Jongin moans, sliding his hand inside of his boxers and wrapping his fingers around his co*ck. He doesn’t start moving it until the knife is back -- Jinki cuts, and Jongin strokes his co*ck, gasping and panting, and Jinki doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, draws swirls and designs until Jongin is panting, gasping, so, so close.

“Please, please,” Jongin gasps, and Jinki twists the knife just slightly, drawing a quick 90 degree angle that makes Jongi cry out, hips lurching and body spasming. The knife slips just a millimeter deeper, just that tiny bit further than even Jinki intended, and Jongin comes with a shout, trembling and messing Jinki’s lines up, and he whimpers pathetically as he comes in his boxers.

“God, you’re so good,” Jinki whispers, and Jinki still wants, Jongin can feel it plain as day, but there’s so much pride there now, so much honest affection that Jongin shivers.

“I…” he pants and finds his words half-desperate. “Can you say--?”

“Good boy,” Jinki says, without a single question about what Jongin wants. “My good boy. You did so well. Such a good boy.”

Jongin whimpers, and leans in. “Want to be good for you-- I… Jinki, I want to be good for you; please let me.”

Jinki moans. “You already are, Jonginnie,” he says, but he also doesn’t stop Jongin from unbuttoning his pants, reaching for his co*ck.

The knife drops to the floor beside the bed, half forgotten except for Jinki to get it out of the way, and Jongin whines. “Want-- want more… Later, I want--”

“Later,” Jinki agrees, not even a hint of pretense. “I want it too.”

Jongin moans, briefly, and stretches himself up for a kiss, the cuts along his chest stretching, stinging; Jongin relishes in dragging the sensation out for as long as he can before he drops back to suck Jinki off instead.

Chapter 6: Brimful

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

It’s honestly very rare for the six of them to go out all day together, mostly just because of how much effort it takes to find a day where they’re all free, and then because of how hard it is for Jongin to sit still for long car rides. Even Taemin begins to feel it after a while, and whether that’s because of how he and Jongin are connected or something else, none of them really know. But that’s just how it is, and by now, they’ve gotten some semblance of order for where they’ll sit, with Jinki driving and Taemin next to him giving directions, Minho in the back behind him and Jongin taking up the other two seats. That leaves Jonghyun and Key in the third row - Key usually sleeps during long car rides while Jonghyun writes lyrics and daydreams.

Today though, they’re on the way back from the beach and mostly everyone is asleep or nearing it, and the car is silent but for Jinki’s quiet humming and the quiet click of the keys on Jonghyun’s . A quick glance shows that Taemin is asleep in the front seat, and it’s quiet from Minho and Jongin as well - if they’re not asleep, they’re doing an unusually good job of being quiet. Jinki is very obviously awake, and another glance over at Key shows that they’re awake, but they’re close to drifting off as well.

Key glances over at him then, and they smile a little at him before scooting over and resting their head on his shoulder. Jonghyun shuts his laptop and stows it carefully beneath the seat, then reaches out to lace his fingers together with Key’s. Like this, Jonghyun can see a little bit down the front of their shirt, but before he can get a proper look, Key looks up through their lashes at him. They grin a little, and they shift so that their shirt falls just a little bit more open, and Jonghyun realizes that it’s one of those days. One of the rare days where Key doesn’t really mind being touched, where they’re definitely, definitely fine with getting him or the others off.

“Jonghyunnie,” they say, and they sit up, leaning just a little into his space as they do so. And that’s all - they don’t say anything more until Jonghyun pouts and makes a little questioning noise. “Jonghyunnie, did you do what I told you to do?”

Jonghyun nods and bites his lip, not quite trusting his voice, and if Key doesn’t quite buy it, they don’t show it in their face - they just rub their hand against Jonghyun’s stomach, pushing slowly and carefully into the slight bulge there. “Good boy, I can feel it.”

When Jonghyun opens his mouth to speak, Key reaches over and presses a thermos to his lips, and even though he’s already so full, even though he’s not even thirsty anymore, Jonghyun drinks. How could he not, with Key’s gaze heavy on him, with the silent order, and he’ll be so good if he does it.

“Full, Jonghyunnie? Do you want to go?”

Jonghyun nods, first uncertainly and then in relief, and he quickly calls out, “Jinki, can we stop?”

“Jonghyunnie,” Key sighs, “did I tell you to do that?”

“No, but…”

“Jong, did you need something?” Jinki’s voice is knowing, and he glances back at them through the rearview mirror, grinning. He’s not really into this, not like Jonghyun is, like Key is, but Jonghyun can tell that he’s definitely more than interested now.

Tears begin to well up and Jonghyun blinks them back, trying to force himself to remain calm. He knows that Jinki would be able to feel if he were...upset or hurt or anything, and he knows that Key would stop in a heartbeat, but he kind of likes it.

“I...I need to go.”

“You need to go, hm? And do you have permission to do that?” Jinki’s words make a current of heat rip through his body, and maybe it’s just Jinki transmitting his own emotions, but it doesn’t quite feel like it. This is all him now, and Jonghyun feels like he’s burning up from the inside out.

“I...I wanna go, can I? Please?” At Key’s laugh, Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and he makes a tiny hurt noise before nosing into Key’s neck.

“Have you been good enough for that, baby boy? Besides, don’t you think they all want to see you go for me? Jinki, don’t you want to see our Jonghyunnie be good for us?”

Jinki hums low in his throat and Jonghyun whimpers. ”I...Boonie, please.”

“Please what, Jonghyunnie?”

“I wanna go!”

“Hm,” Key says, lips curving up into a wicked grin, “do you?”

“Please, Key. I’m...need it!”

“Okay, baby. You can go for me. Can you be good and do that?”

“Right...here? Key, I-”

“Yes you can, Jonghyunnie. Be good for me, be a good boy.” And when Jonghyun shakes his head, Key presses down harder, speaks again. “Jonghyunnie. Answer me.”

“Embarrassing! They’ll know, and I-”

“You don’t mind that though, Jonghyunnie. You didn’t mind it when Jinki shows you off for us all, so what is it, hm? Unless you want to?”

It takes a long few moments for Jonghyun to speak, but when he does, his voice is quiet and shy and petulant. “Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing, I just want to make my baby boy feel good. You don’t like that too?”

Jonghyun whines again and his hand comes up to cover his mouth as he shakes his head again. But his cheeks are flushed and he’s not pulling away, just letting Key massage slow circles against his bladder. “Want to,” he mumbles, and Key leans forward to kiss his cheek, thoroughly pleased.

“Good boy, Jonghyunnie. So good and pretty like this.” Key digs their fingers in again and Jonghyun can’t help the noise he makes as he lurches forward, and maybe that’s the push he needed, because as he whines and Key coos little praises in his ear, the wet spot in his shorts grows bigger and bigger. Jinki, to his credit, only sends back waves of pride and adoration to Jonghyun alone as he rolls the windows down, and Key just grins and rests against Jonghyun again as his body relaxes and stops trembling.

It feels almost nice being like this, Jonghyun thinks, it’s nice right about until his shorts begin to grow sticky and Taemin stirs long enough to sniff and then look back and down, smug knowing in his gaze.

But honestly, Jonghyun doesn’t quite mind that either.

Chapter 7: Aspectabund

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

It’s one of those evenings where he’s too sleepy to think properly, but too awake to fall asleep - and Jonghyun has already taken a long bath, laid in bed for nearly an hour and drank one of Key’s sleep-inducing teas, but nothing has helped. His body is awake and his mind is exhausted, or maybe it’s the other way around, but either way, Jonghyun can’t write and can’t sleep, and there’s no one here that can distract him. Jinki is out with Jongin, and Taemin has been curled up in tiny patches of sun around the house for a few hours now, and Key is too busy making teas and lotions and perfumes to help.

Minho though...Jonghyun has no idea where he is until he shuffles out of his room and into Minho’s to find him laying in bed, watching something on tv. He looks up and over when he sees Jonghyun and then his mouth curves into a fond smile as he beckons Jonghyun closer. “Hey, you. Couldn’t sleep?”

Jonghyun shakes his head and obeys Minho’s wordless direction, closing the door behind him before trudging over to the bed and climbing into Minho’s lap. “Sleepy, but not enough to fall asleep.” The tea is catching up with him, he thinks, but it’s still not enough to calm his mind.

“Poor baby,” Minho coos, and then presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Watch with me?”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, actually. You can change it, I only just turned it on.”

Jonghyun shakes his head and noses closer, humming softly in contentment when Minho wraps his arms around him to hold him tight. “Can you see?”

“Of course I can, Jonghyunnie. You’re so tiny.”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat, and even though Minho hadn’t meant it like that, he still can’t help thinking, and Minho’s hands are so warm on his hips, and he’s so big. “I…”

“Jonghyunnie?” Minho’s voice has gone lower, smoother, and Jonghyun shifts again, biting his lip. “You gonna tell me, baby?”

“You’re...I’m really small, and…”

“And what, Jonghyunnie?”

“You could…” Jonghyun shifts in his lap again, more pointedly, and Minho’s grip tightens, just enough to keep him still and grounded.

“I could what? Words, Jonghyunnie.”

“Just...want you to. I’ll be good, just…”

“Should I tell you what I saw, baby?” Minho doesn’t even give Jonghyun time to answer, just continues speaking low and quiet. “Saw you in my lap, Jonghyunnie. You were riding me, and you were so small and cute, trying to hold all of your pretty noises in. Had my hands on your hips, just like this, and you came all over your tummy.”

The breathy little noise Jonghyun makes then makes Minho laugh and kiss the back of his neck, teasing now just to tease. “You’re so needy, Jonghyunnie. So pretty when you’re like this.”

“Want to,” Jonghyun whispers, “can we please just...you’re so big, and your hands, and…”

“And what? Tell me what you want, Jonghyunnie.”

“Touch me, please.” And there’s more, there’s definitely more, but Jonghyun can’t - won’t - say any of it.

“Pretty baby.” It’s offhanded, and Minho kisses the back of Jonghyun’s neck again before resting his head against Jonghyun’s shoulder so he can watch as he holds up the thin material of Jonghyun’s oversized shirt with one hand and holds his hip still with the other. “Pretty,” he comments, upon seeing the boyshorts that Jonghyun is wearing. They’re soft pink, pretty things, and Minho is almost sad to see them go. Almost, because of the way Jonghyun whimpers when he finally does push them down to grip his co*ck instead.

“This is pretty too, Jonghyunnie.”

Jonghyun whines and shakes his head, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and Minho laughs. He contemplates teasing him a little more, but decides against it in favor of kissing Jonghyun’s neck again and beginning to touch him, slow strokes that make Jonghyun tremble. It’s dry, and it must be at least a little bit uncomfortable, but Jonghyun doesn’t seem uncomfortable, barely even notices when Minho lets go of him to fish for the tiny bottle of lube from beneath his pillow.

“Thought this would come in handy, pretty baby.”

Jonghyun nods blindly and trembles against him, gasping when Minho’s hand comes back. The slide of his hand is slicker now, and Jonghyun’s hips jerk up when Minho squeezes. “Is it good, baby?”

“I wanna come,” is what Jonghyun breathes instead. Minho doesn’t let up, just slows his pace just a little bit as he tries to decide if Jonghyun should be allowed to come.

“So soon?” Minho shifts a little, just enough so that Jonghyun can feel how hard he is as well. “Are you sure you want to come now, Jonghyunnie?”

“Please, I wanna.”

“Okay baby boy, you can come.”

Jonghyun shakes his head at that, frantic almost, but when Minho makes a questioning noise, he doesn’t say anything. “Tell me, baby.”

“Just...want you to make me come. Please, Minho, I wanna be good for you.”

“You are good, Jonghyunnie. See how good you’re making me feel?”

“Please,” Jonghyun whines. He f*cks his hips up again, and when Minho looks up at him, his cheeks are flushed and pink. And then Minho glances back down, at the head of Jonghyun’s co*ck peeking between his fingers as his hips jerk up.

“Pretty, Jonghyunnie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” And Minho honestly doesn’t think that Jonghyun had meant that to slip out - the title is reserved for Jinki and sometimes Taemin, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

“Can daddy make you come then?”

Jonghyun nods and whimpers when Minho kisses his cheek, lips drifting close to his mouth but not quite touching. “Please, I wanna come so bad.”

“Good boy. Daddy’s gonna make you come.”

Jonghyun’s fingers tighten spasmodically in the sheets and he nods eagerly, body tensing up as Minho squeezes his co*ck and strokes again. It doesn’t take long - but then, it never does - for Jonghyun to come, and it’s almost disappointing that Minho hadn’t taken his shirt off earlier, because Jonghyun would’ve looked so pretty with come splattered all over his stomach.

“You would’ve looked so pretty, coming all over your pretty tummy.”

Jonghyun shudders and nods, relaxing against Minho and nosing up against him for a kiss. Minho easily obliges, kissing Jonghyun slow and deep, until his breathing deepens and evens out and his kisses become sloppy and sluggish. It’s not until Minho pulls away that he sees just how close to falling asleep Jonghyun is - his eyes are fluttering shut and his head bobbing just slightly. As Minho watches, he yawns, then nuzzles close and yawns again.

“Sleepy, Jonghyunnie?”

“Yeah...wanna do you though.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m fine, really. Go to sleep now, okay?”

Jonghyun mumbles out a quiet protest as Minho speaks, but he’s asleep by the time Minho finishes his sentence.

Chapter 8: Corpore

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

It’s well known among the rest of the coven that Key and Jinki are close. It had, after all, been just the two of them for such a long time. And so, when Key is stressed beyond the point of coping, when they won’t let anyone else talk to them or touch them or even look at them for too long, it’s Jinki who steps in.

And it’s not just that Jinki can unravel Key’s emotions with a touch, because Jinki doesn’t like to try and solve problems like that -- he can calm turmoil, temporarily, but after a certain amount of time, his powers fade and it comes back.

It’s really just that while they’ve all known each other for years now, Key and Jinki have been together since they were kids. There’s something unspoken between the two of them, something that neither of them talk about out loud. But when Jinki gets overwhelmed, when there’s too much on his shoulders, Jinki looks to Key to take it from him. And when Key gets stressed and agitated and finicky, it’s Jinki that they look to to ease it.

So it’s not strange to find Key, when they’re in moods like this, close to Jinki. For today, they’ve taken over the job of Jinki’s assistant, and they’ve set up a little pitcher of tea and glass cups, giving out samples in the lobby of Jinki’s shop when people come in for their appointments. It’s partially just for something to do, partially good for seeing what products Key should add to their shop soon, and mostly just so they can be close to Jinki.

Jinki’s shop isn’t much -- he works alone so that there aren’t too many questions about the way he works; Jinki isn’t, exactly, a normal masseuse after all. But the whole shop, from the moment anyone walks in, is filled with a low level of calm. Most people attribute it to the music -- soft, soothing tracks, nearly lullaby-esque in style -- or the tea that Key provides even on days they’re not around, but it’s all Jinki.

But even that, even the calm, isn’t why Key is here, because when Jinki closes the shop for a break -- two hours to get lunch and to give his hands (and his powers) a rest -- Key slips into the back room, taking a seat on the massage table.

Jinki laughs softly, stepping closer. “I hope you’re planning on wiping that down again before you leave? I just cleaned it.”

“You can clean it again after me. I’m sure my shorts don’t have that many germs.” They say it with a huff, snippy and almost cold, but Jinki merely hums, stepping closer. His hands fall easily onto Key’s knees, pushing them just slightly apart to move between them. It’s not a sexual action, just one that allows him to get closer, and Key lets him, frowning slightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jinki asks, and Key feels the pulse of reassurance through his touch, not affecting Key’s emotions, but just making it clear that Jinki is there.

Key huffs, tipping their head back and raking a hand through their hair. “It’s stupid, honestly. I just… I just…”

Jinki makes a soft noise. “Take your time,” he murmurs. “You know I’d never judge you for anything.”

“You one hundred percent judged me for that time I made a tea that tasted like spoiled milk,” Key mumbles, and leans forward again, folding themself forward and leaning their head onto Jinki’s shoulder. It’s a clear request, and Jink obeys, lifting his hands from Key’s knees to hug them instead, one hand drifting up and down their back, rumpling their shirt.

“I’d never judge you for anything that you feel,” Jinki corrects. “I will still always judge you for terrible potion concoctions.”

Key sighs. “Fair enough.”

There’s a long pause between the two of them when Jinki just holds onto Key, rocking them in his arms a little, humming along with the soft music still playing out of the speakers in the background. It’s gentle, almost peaceful, and the tension leaks out of Key’s shoulders, bit by bit.

It’s a few minutes later that they manage to whisper, “Jinki, am I ugly?”

Jinki pulls back, confusion clear on his features. “No?”

It’s so bewildered that Key can’t even pretend it’s a lie, but it makes them shift uncomfortably, feeling suddenly defensive, “I just-- nevermind, I told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not,” Jinki says. “I’m just… confused. Why would you think that?”

Key huffs a little, rolling their eyes. “Look it’s just -- you guys are all over each other all the time, and I know I don’t like to be touched, usually. I know it’s not you guys’ fault. I know, okay? But it just -- it’s so stupid? I should feel grateful that you guys don’t try to… like, hit on me or whatever, but… I guess it just… makes me feel like you guys don’t think… I don’t know.”

“Oh, Bummie,” Jinki sighs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to their forehead. “Oh, Bummie, you’re so pretty. You are. And I’m sorry that we’ve ever made you feel like you’re not. We don’t want to make you feel pressured, you’re right, but I don’t think any of us thought that you’d feel like this. You’re so, so pretty.”

Key shifts a little, blinking at him for a moment, and then they duck their head, looking away. “It’s… it’s fine. It’s whatever. I’m not-- don’t be sorry, okay? I’m just-- Jinki?”

“Lay down for me, okay? Lay down. If it’s too much, you can always say stop. But I’d like to show you how beautiful you are.”

“Jinki, I don’t want-- I still… not that…” Key frowns. “I trust you, but I still don’t want you to… to touch me.”

It’s said with the kind of emphasis that makes the word ‘touch’ sexual, and Jinki nods in understanding. Even now, Key doesn’t want to f*ck, doesn’t want to be touched like that. And Jinki would never make them. “I won’t,” Jinki says. “I’ll keep this PG-13 at most. I’ll be able to sense when you’re uncomfortable. Even a little and I’ll stop. And you can always tell me no. Even now, okay? Just tell me no and we don’t have to.”

Key relaxes again, a slow sink of their shoulders, and then they nod. “Back or front?”

Jinki guides them onto the padded table, laying on their back. He touches the hem of their shirt, and they reach down and take it off easily, rolling their eyes just a little. “PG-13, you said,” they tease, and then reach down, pushing off their shorts as well. They’re wearing boxer briefs beneath, and the black cotton doesn’t at all match the soft, pale blue of their bra, but it’s very fitting, and Jinki laughs and presses a kiss to their forehead again.

“You have such pretty skin,” he murmurs, “It’s so soft, Key.”

Key rolls their eyes, but Jinki feels the flash of embarrassed pleasure that they put off, even as they sigh, “Jinki… honestly…”

“You’re gorgeous, Key. Our whole lives, you’ve been so stunning,” Jinki says quietly, and slowly, carefully, shifts down, brushing his lips down Key’s jaw, down their throat and to their chest, drifting over their collar bones. He presses his fingers gently into Key’s sides, just touching, just letting Key feel what he does and feeling Key’s emotions, a careful balance that he’s holding.

“You have such pretty eyes, too. And that scar in your eyebrow -- I remember when that happened, remember when you fell out of that tree and you were so upset and that was when I found out I had powers, because I could feel how scared you were from next door and I had to come find you -- but even now, it makes you look so distinctive,” Jinki murmurs. “And your mouth-- can I?”

Key inhales a short breath and then nods. Jinki waits, just a moment, pausing as he looks for any sense of discomfort in Key, but he can’t find any. After a moment, he presses a tiny kiss to their lips, short and chaste. He pushes emotions through, love and adoration, a quiet sense of sweet, fragile want -- not sexual, but just there, just Jinki wanting Key’s closeness.

Key shivers a little, melting.

“You’re so pretty, Key.” Jinki’s mouth is back on Key’s chest now, pressing kisses to their skin. He skips down when he gets even close to the line of their bra, avoiding their chest entirely, making sure that this stays away from anything sexual. His lips are soft over their belly, and he drops his hands to their thighs instead, palms soft.

“You’ve always been stunning. Your jawline. The way you hold yourself. How effortless you make everything look. Your arms -- you used to be such a clingy kid, used to hug people all the time, and still, when you will…”

There’s something softer now, almost yearning, and it slips through in Jinki’s emotions, tangled up with everything he’s trying to give to Key right now. He shakes it off, pulling it back and sighing softly against Key’s skin.

“How big your hands are -- I loved holding your hand, Bummie. Always. Ever since we were kids.” There’s a smile on his lips curving against Key’s skin, and Key giggles as he pecks a soft kiss, right under their belly button. “Jonghyunnie likes your hands too. Likes how they feel when you hold him. But you already know that -- you know that Jonghyunnie thinks you’re pretty too. We all do.”

“I--” Key takes a deep breath, in and out. “Yeah, I do. I do, I just-- for a bit, I got--”

“You don’t have to explain it,” Jinki says, and kisses Key again, a little higher now, in the middle of their stomach. “You don’t. Key, you deserve the world. And even when you don’t remember that, I do. The others do too. Bummie, you know that we love you, always.”

“Shut up,” Key says, and they’re rolling their eyes again, exasperated and fond and just the tiniest bit flustered. “This is literally so gay, Jinki.”

Jinki laughs, pulling up and away and helping Key sit up. “Feel better?”

“You’re-- yeah. You’re a dork, but yeah.” After a moment, they reach out, curling their arms around Jinki’s waist. “You could just say when you want stuff, Jinks.”

Jinki shakes his head. “I want to actually take a nap before I have more appointments. My hands are so sore.”

Key rolls their eyes again, for what feels like the dozenth time this hour, and sits back, letting go of Jinki to take his hand instead. “Be glad that you practiced this sh*t on me enough times that I know how,” Key says, and rubs their thumbs into Jinki’s hands, starting to massage the knots out.

Jinki grins. “See,” he says. “You have nice hands.”

“Shut up,” Key laughs. But Jinki can feel how content they are, how comfortable they are in their own skin now, and that’s what really matters.

Chapter 9: Savium

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Everyone knows about Jonghyun’s oral fixation. It’s a pretty poorly hidden secret, from the way he’s always biting his lips to the way he’s always pushing his fingers into his mouth almost absently. But there’s no time it’s clearer than when he’s already feeling soft, already feeling small, because then even kisses can get to him, have him moaning openly and squirming.

He pouts easily, almost showing off his lips, and it’s hard to turn him away. Especially when he gets needy. And Jonghyun is always needy, but sometimes so much more than anyone expects. Sometimes, like today.

It’s almost subtle, at first. Almost, except that there’s an inflection in his voice when he comes to find Jinki and asks for kisses that morning, something soft and pitiful and Jinki pauses, running his fingers through Jonghyun’s hair. “Didn’t Taeminnie give you kisses already, baby boy?”

Jonghyun makes a tiny noise and nods. “Yeah,” he says, “but I wanted--”

He stops, biting his lip, and reaches up for Jinki, trying to pull him down for kisses. Jinki catches his hand, rubbing his thumb over Jonghyun’s knuckles. “Wanted what? Tell me.”

Jonghyun shivers. “Wanted more,” he whines. “Wanted more kisses, but Taeminnie had to go.”

“My poor baby,” Jinki murmurs, leaning down. His lips are inches from Jonghyun’s, close enough to tease, and Jonghyun lurches forward desperately, but Jinki pulls away, clicking his tongue. “Be a good boy. Ask nicely.”

Jonghyun whines, low in his throat. “Daddy…”

“What, baby boy?” Jinki asks, a smile creeping onto his lips. Jonghyun is pouting at him, soft and pretty and needy, and Jinki wants nothing more that to give Jonghun exactly what he wants. He just wants Jonghyun to ask for it first.

“Daddy, you know what,” Jonghyun whines, cheeks flushed pretty and pink. “Just…I wanna…”

He trails off again, pouting even more, and Jinki cups his chin, running the pad of his thumb over the skin beneath Jonghyun’s lower lip. Jonghyun immediately tries to dip his head, attempting to get it into his mouth, but Jinki holds firm. “Want what, baby boy? Be good and tell me.”

“Kisses,” Jonghyun says. Whines, really, his voice coming out high and wanton. He shuffles forward towards Jinki as best he can, head tilted up towards him, waiting, wanting. “Want kisses, daddy, please.”

“Good boy,” Jinki says, and leans down, pressing a soft one to Jonghyun’s mouth.

Jonghyun whimpers, entirely out of proportion, and when Jinki pulls away, Jonghyun looks dazed, a tiny noise of protest tumbling from his lips. “Please…”

“I think you want more than kisses, don’t you?” Jinki says, thumb brushing over Jonghyun’s lip. “Think you just want something in your pretty mouth.”

Jonghyun inhales a short gasp and nods, almost frantic. “Please. Daddy, please. I want that.”

“Want what?” Jinki asks, and he knows that’s too much pressure, knows Jonghyun won’t be able to muster the courage to say without a prompt. “What do you want in your pretty mouth, hmm? Fingers?”

Jonghyun shakes his head. “No, I want--” he starts, and then stops, biting his lower lip hard. He ducks his head, just slightly, peering up through his lashes at Jinki, gentle and demure and utterly precious as he whispers, “I’ve been good, haven’t I? I want-- want you to fill my mouth. I want…”

He trails off, and it’s all too clear what he wants, but Jinki wants to hear it. “I can fill your mouth with my fingers, baby boy.”

“No!” Jonghyun says, jerking his head up. “Daddy, no! Don’t-- I’m mad at you.”

“Oh?” Jinki says. “Why are you mad, pretty baby?”

Jonghyun sucks in a quick breath. “Because you know. You know and you’re teasing. You’re being mean to me.”

“I want to hear you say it, baby boy,” Jinki says. “You can do that for me, can’t you? You can beg for daddy’s co*ck.”

Jonghyun gasps again, mouth falling open easily. “Please. Want that. I want your co*ck, daddy. Please.”

He’s so eager to please, so soft, and Jinki makes a low noise of pleasure. “Gonna let me f*ck your throat, baby boy?”

Jonghyun doesn’t even try to hide his soft moan. “Please,” he says. “I’ll be good. I’ll take it all for you, you know I will.”

“I know you will,” Jinki murmurs, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re always so good for me.”

Jonghyun whines softly, but he nods, so pleased that Jinki can feel it without even trying, radiating off of him in waves. “Daddy,” he mumbles, and then, “On my knees, daddy?”

Jinki hums softly. “Yeah, baby. Grab a pillow for me, hmm? Don’t want to hurt your knees, baby boy. Never want to hurt you on accident.”

Jonghyun squirms a little and then nods. He goes and gets the pillow, coming back and dropping it to the floor in front of Jinki. He looks up at him as he goes to his knees, lifting his hands to touch Jinki’s belt like a question.

Jinki nods in answer. “You’re so good for me, baby boy.”

The noise Jonghyun makes is high and whiny, but his fingers aren’t even fumbling, working Jinki’s belt cleanly open. His mouth is slightly open, like he can’t bring himself to wait any longer than he has to, and when he finally works Jinki’s belt open and pops the button on Jinki’s pants, he tugs, whining a little in annoyance when they don’t slip down right away.

“Impatient,” Jinki teases, and reaches down to help, shimmying his pants off of his hips and tugging down his underwear with them.

He’s half hard, mostly from the noises Jonghyun is making and partially just from how pretty a picture Jonghyun makes on his knees like that, but it only takes Jonghyun’s fingers wrapping around him, the warmth of Jonghyun’s breath against him, and Jinki is already hardening, fully aware of what’s coming.

He grabs a handful of Jonghyun’s hair to hold him in place. “Jonghyunnie,” he says, voice soft. “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Jonghyun nods rapidly. “Always. Daddy, always wanna be good for you.”

Jinki hums. “And my good boy is going to take it all for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jonghyun breathes, and then looks up at Jinki with something bright in his eyes and whines. “It’s so big. Want you to f*ck my throat.”

Jinki moans, biting back a curse, and he knows Jonghyun can feel the wave of desire Jinki just put off without meaning to. “I will, baby boy,” he says, and guides Jonghyun’s mouth forward.

Jonghyun moans and takes Jinki’s co*ck into his mouth, lips stretching wide around Jinki’s girth as he sinks down. He sucks, just for a moment, on the head, but they both know that’s not what he really wants, and Jonghyun abandons that quickly, tugging against Jinki’s grip to get more of Jinki into his mouth.

His mouth is hot and wet, and Jinki moans encouragingly, letting Jonghyun take as much as he wants to, only tightening his fingers when Jonghyun gags a tiny bit, Jinki’s co*ck threatening to push against the back of his throat.

Jonghyun pulls back, just slightly, breathing heavily through his nose. Jinki feels the flash of frustration, of want, of helplessness, and Jonghyun is looking up at Jinki with wet eyes and a pleading look.

Jinki groans. “You look so pretty with a co*ck in your mouth, baby boy.”

The high, tight moan Jonghyun makes is one of the prettiest sounds that Jinki has ever heard. Jonghyun lurches forward again, pushing further like he’s trying to fit as much of Jinki into his mouth as he can, and Jinki caves. He thrusts his hips forward, shoving his co*ck down Jonghyun’s throat, and Jonghyun chokes, just for a moment, and then relaxes.

Jinki pulls back, tugging Jonghyun off by his hair. “So good for me,” he says, voice low and thick with arousal. “You’re so good, Jonghyunnie. You were made to suck my co*ck, weren’t you?”

Jonghyun takes a few deep breaths and then nods jerkily. “Please, daddy, please,” he whines, and his voice is a little strung out. Jinki can’t wait until it’s wrecked. “Again, please.”

“Good boy,” Jinki says, and lines up his co*ck with Jonghyun’s mouth again. Jonghyun yanks against Jinki’s hair in his rush to get it into his mouth, and Jinki lets him now, waiting until Jonghyun is almost there and then forcing his hips forward, gripping Jonghyun tightly by the hair to hold him in place.

Jonghyun moans, a thick, throaty sound, choked off and muffled by Jinki’s co*ck, and he’s squirming desperately. Jinki sees Jonghyun’s hand go to his co*ck, sees Jonghyun getting himself off, and he groans.

“You like this, baby boy? You like having my co*ck down your throat?”

Jonghyun makes a tight, butchered sound in answer, and Jinki watches his co*ck jerk up into his own touch. Jinki adjusts his grip on his hair, pulling Jonghyun back just far enough for him to breathe, and then pushes forward again, into Jonghyun’s throat.

“Tell me, baby boy. Do you like it?”

Jonghyun makes another noise, helpless and broken, and Jinki makes a low approving sound in response, readjusting his grip on Jonghyun’s hair to tilt his head just slightly, his other hand dropping to Jonghyun’s throat.

“Look at that, baby boy,” he says, fingers just barely skimming, not daring to put any pressure. “You can see my co*ck in your pretty throat.”

Jonghyun abruptly chokes, jerking back with a splutter and a high whine, and Jinki doesn’t even have to ask what happened. “You came just from that, pretty baby?”

Jonghyun whines, or at least tries to. It’s not as high as normal, and his voice is gone when he opens his mouth and whimpers, “Daddy… I…”

“Shh,” Jinki murmurs. “You did so good, baby boy. Gonna let Daddy come on your face now?”

Jonghyun nods frantically, shifting a little and closing his eyes. Jinki groans softly, looking down at Jonghyun on his knees.

“Ask me, baby,” he says, wrapping his hand around his co*ck, still slick with Jonghyun’s saliva. “Come on, Jonghyunnie. Beg for me.”

“Daddy,” Jonghyun whines, his voice thick and rasping and god, he sounds so wrecked, so pretty. “Daddy, please, come on my face. Please.”

Jinki groans, but Jonghyun is so pretty, and who is Jinki to deny him? Jonghyun is so pretty, but he looks even prettier with come splattered across his cheeks, dripping down his face. Jonghyun licks his lips openly, moaning softly. “Daddy…”

“Good, baby?” Jinki asks, breathing unevenly. After a moment, he drops to his knees as well, in front of Jonghyun. “Talk to me.”

“Uh huh.” Jonghyun nods, like the verbal confirmation wasn’t enough. “‘M good… I…”

“You what, baby boy?” Jinki whispers. “Tell me what you want, baby. You were so good for me.”

Jonghyun shivers. “Throat hurts,” he whispers.

“Want me to get Key to make you something?” Jinki asks, concerned. They really can’t afford to have Jonghyun’s throat really hurt.

But Jonghyun just shakes his head, cheeks red under the splatters of come over them. “I… nuh uh,” he says. “Later. I… I like it.”

Jinki blinks, just for a moment, and then laughs softly. “My good boy. So good for Daddy.”

Jonghyun smiles. “Want kisses,” he demands.

And maybe it’s a little gross, but Jinki kisses him anyways.

Chapter 10: Fervency

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

As sporadic as Taemin’s heats are, there’s always something familiar to them. The way Jonghyun wakes up is generally the same, with Taemin touching or mouthing at whatever part of him that he can, with Taemin’s hot skin against his and unrestrained whimpers falling into his mouth. So Jonghyun has learned to tell, somewhat, when Taemin is going into heat. The way he’ll press into Jonghyun’s space and pout whenever he’s not getting the attention he wants, the way he’ll shudder and whimper at every petname, every teasing remark thrown his way.

It’d be kind of annoying if it weren't so cute, but Jonghyun can’t complain. And on those cycles where Jinki is with them as well, amplifying everything and looking on with pride and arousal clear on his face...Jonghyun is definitely not complaining.

Jonghyun usually ends the days leading up to Taemin’s heat with Taemin following him into bed and curling close, and he starts those days with a needy, clingy Taemin, wound almost completely around him and only curling closer.

But even that is nothing to the way Jonghyun wakes up when Taemin’s heat actually hits. Now that he knows Taemin so well, Jonghyun can tell that Taemin’s heat has started even before he opens his eyes - he can feel Taemin’s hot breath puffing against the back of his neck, and his lips brush against his neck each time he moves. Taemin is gripping his hips tight, and his hips are rutting against Jonghyun’s backside with enough force that he wonders briefly if it hurts, but then Taemin lets out a throaty groan and hisses out his name from between clenched teeth. And Jonghyun doesn’t really know how to best tell or show Taemin that he’s awake, but then Taemin bites down on his shoulder - not even hard, just to muffle his strained noise of pleasure - and Jonghyun’s body jerks in shock. All Taemin does is grip him even tighter, burying his face in Jonghyun’s neck again and f*cking his hips even harder now.

“Tae,” Jonghyun mumbles, and then, “pretty kitty.”

And that’s all it takes. Taemin’s hips jerk one last time and then he stills, body tense and quivering as he comes. “Jonghyunnie, wanna…” and it’s plenty open-ended, but Taemin’s hand creeping down to rest high up on his inner thigh and his hips rocking again answers the question of what he wants.

“Again?”

“Want you to come. Jonghyunnie, f*ck, please. You’re - I need it, and-”

“Pretty kitty,” Jonghyun murmurs again. He rolls over and shifts and tugs Taemin to him so that he’s more comfortable, so Taemin is resting on top of him and between his legs, so the rut of his hips is pleasing to them both. His hands fall to Taemin’s hips, not controlling or guiding his pace but simply resting there, and Taemin is too far gone to mind, co*ck hardening again so quickly that Jonghyun almost laughs.

“Jonghyunnie,” Taemin rasps, “please.”

And Jonghyun isn’t nearly as good as Jinki with this kind of thing, doesn’t know how to make Taemin fall apart the way Jinki does for him, but he can do what Taemin wants. And that’s honestly all that matters.

“Pretty, pretty kitty.” And Jonghyun is only half expecting the slight shimmer of magic, the warping that materializes Taemin’s ears and tail, but he’s quick to pet at the silky fur, curling the tip of his tail between his fingers and tugging softly. Even just those simple motions have Taemin shuddering and curling in on himself, breaths coming quick and harsh as his hips pulse against Jonghyun’s. It’s not until Jonghyun’s hips rise up to meet his own that Taemin collapses into him, whining and mewling into Jonghyun’s ear; when Jonghyun slots his thigh between Taemin’s and pushes up into Taemin’s harsh thrusts, Taemin yelps and shakes against him. His skin is flushed and burning, and he’s sticky and sweaty, and when Jonghyun manages to look him in the eye for a quick moment, he looks thoroughly hazed out and loving every moment of it.

And now Jonghyun is wondering what he can do to make Taemin come, if it would take him tonguing at the tip of Taemin’s tail or sucking the tip of his ear into his mouth, or if he could make Taemin come just from his words alone. From how he looks now, either would likely work, but Jonghyun kind of wants Taemin to fall apart against him, wants to feel the heat and weight of his body for as long as he can.

“Want you to come,” Taemin breathes, and Jonghyun can’t help laughing.

“Impatient, kitten. I will.” As he speaks, Jonghyun digs his nails into the thin material of Taemin’s pajama shirt - and maybe it’s that, maybe it’s the petname, maybe it’s everything, but Taemin whines again, long and high-pitched as he comes for the second time that morning.

“Good kitty,” Jonghyun murmurs, petting at Taemin’s sleep-ruffled hair and kissing his cheeks as Taemin shivers in his grip. “You did so good, Tae. So pretty for me too, such a pretty kitty.”

Taemin makes a soft wanting noise, but he’s glaring when he peeks up at Jonghyun, lips pursed in a pout even if his co*ck has definitely just twitched. “You’re teasing.”

And maybe Jonghyun is, just a little, but who wouldn’t? “I didn’t come yet, pretty kitty.”

Taemin makes another one of those breathy, wanting noises, and he doesn’t even hesitate to slide down on the bed to pull Jonghyun’s co*ck from his boxers and suck him all the way down.

Taemin comes once again from sucking Jonghyun off, and then again from the slide of Jonghyun’s thigh against him; only when Jonghyun brings him up for a kiss does he see how thoroughly f*cked out he looks, come spattered on his cheeks, skin red and blotchy and eyes wet from tears. “Taeminnie, come on, let’s shower, okay? And then we’ll get you some tea and a nap, okay?”

Taemin nods agreement, but clearly it’s just so Jonghyun will call him good, because as soon as they step inside the shower, Taemin drops to his knees to suck Jonghyun off again.

Jonghyun lets him.

Chapter 11: Metus

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“I can feel you thinking,” Jinki says, halfway through the most climactic scene of the movie. Taemin is on the edge of his seat, almost entranced, and Jinki would think he was just into the movie except that Taemin is projecting emotions all over the place, practically an open book. And maybe he is just into the movie, but it’s not the kind of into that one would expect. They’re not watching p*rn, after all.

It’s a pretty stereotypical action sequence, actually. Jinki hasn’t been paying very close attention for a while now, only having tuned back in when Taemin’s emotions had started going haywire. There’s a man -- pretty, Jinki guesses, if you’re into that sort of thing -- crouching against a crate, leaning heavily back against it and panting. His hands are steady on the shape of a pistol, some sleek thing that looks good on screen, and his finger hesitates over the trigger. Taemin is literally holding his breath.

When the actor on screen spins around the corner of the box and shoots, Taemin exhales audibly, shoulders going a little slack. “What?” he asks Jinki, almost offhandedly. “I was focusing.”

Jinki snorts. “Obviously. You like this, don’t you?”

If not for how well he knows Taemin, Jinki might have missed the blush that creeps over Taemin’s cheeks. Taemin’s voice even manages to be steady when he says, “What? I mean, yeah. It’s a good movie, I guess.”

But Jinki can feel the spike of nervous energy, quick and embarrassed, and Taemin turns bodily, tucking himself a little more into the couch. Jinki bites back a laugh -- Taemin is adorable sometimes, especially when he doesn’t mean to be. Still, he knows that won’t be taken the right way, so he stifles it, only watching Taemin’s face carefully as he says, “Taemin, I can feel the amount of desire you’re radiating right now. Every time he co*cks that gun… It’s a useless noise, by the way. They did away with guns you actively needed to co*ck decades ago; pull the trigger and it’ll pull the hammer for you.”

Taemin is staring at him, and even if Jinki couldn’t feel everything Taemin is radiating, the slightly slack-jawed look on Taemin’s face would tell him everything he needed to know.

“How…” Taemin licks his lips, staring. “How do you know that?”

Jinki co*cks one eyebrow, smiling openly. “How do you think?”

“You’ve… you’ve shot a gun?” Taemin says, and there’s something a little thick in his voice. His emotions are all over the place, but Jinki can pick out the big contenders -- surprise, embarrassment, and, above everything else, desire. Jinki wants nothing more than to kiss him right now, tell him how very pretty he is.

He should have known, honestly. Taemin thrives off adrenaline. He loves roller-coasters and bungee jumping and he keeps saying how very badly he wants to skydive, joking that he’s a cat and he’ll land on his feet.

The thought that Taemin likes the thought of playing with a dangerous weapon, it’s not even off-base for Taemin. Had he thought about it, Jinki could have seen it coming a mile away. But here it is, and Jinki is just the tiniest bit taken off-guard by it. But Jinki recovers quickly.

“I have. Back when Key and I moved out on our own, we both learned to shoot. There’s only so much a couple of new witches can do on their own, and I wanted to make sure we were safe. So I kept a gun in my drawer and I went to the shooting range once a week.” Jinki remembers, vaguely, the way the gun felt in his palms. It was a nice feeling, he supposes. “I still have it, in a safe in my closet.”

Taemin takes a deep, strangled breath. There’s not even a pretense anymore. “Can I see it?”

Jinki laughs. “Do you want me to go get it and bring it here? Or do you want to come to my room and see it?”

“I…” Taemin swallows thickly. “Your room. I want…”

He doesn’t finish saying what he wants, but Jinki doesn’t push him. He just stands, grabbing the remote and pausing the long-forgotten movie. Taemin scrambles up after him, and Jinki does his best not to just give into the urge to kiss Taemin because Taemin is already half-hard in his pants, needy and all too eager.

Jinki reaches out, catching Taemin gently by the waist and guiding him back to his room. It’s empty right now, the bedsheets slightly rumpled, but Taemin sinks easily to the bed, perched on the edge with his fingers clutching tight. Jinki moves to his closet, pulling out the small personal safe. He remembers the code still -- it’s the day he and Key first met, almost two decades ago now.

The handgun has stayed there, unused for years now, but when Jinki picks it up, it feels familiar in his grip. He checks, pointedly, to make sure it’s completely unloaded and then stands, the gun held in his hand.

“See?” he says, and lines the gun up, aiming at a spot to the right of Taemin’s head, just close enough that Taemin sucks in a startled gasp. “A useless sound.”

But he co*cks the gun anyways, because useless or not (especially without a bullet to fire), the sound makes Taemin whimper briefly, a tight, high moan in the back of his throat.

“You do like this, don’t you?” Jinki says, teasing, and steps closer. He aims the gun at Taemin now, somewhere in the center of his chest. Jinki can feel the thrill that runs through Taemin, echoing out through the entire room. Taemin feels so strongly, and Jinki can feel the want and the fear and trust that is rushing around him like a storm.

Taemin doesn’t even try to hide the way his hand moves from the bed to his lap, slipping into his pants and winding around his co*ck. “Yes,” he breathes. “God, I… yes.”

Jinki smiles. “Good boy,” he murmurs, refusing to let himself be distracted by the way Taemin is blatantly jerking off, hand moving fast and almost too rough inside his own pants. He takes careful, steady aim, directly at Taemin’s chest.

Taemin shudders so hard it’s visible, closing his eyes tight, and then opens them again, mouth falling open in a soft groan. His eyes are focused on Jinki’s hands, on his finger where it’s pressed against the trigger, just waiting to pull, and he lets out a weak moan. “Jinki… I… f*ck.”

“Already?” Jinki teases. “It’s barely been a minute. You’re needy today.”

Taemin lets out a tight whine. “Shut up. I’m not-- I just… Jinki, don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing,” Jinki murmurs. “You can come if you want to.”

Taemin lets out a broken noise of frustration, mouth opening and closing as he struggles, clearly to put together words. Jinki waits, just for a moment longer, and then pulls the trigger. The gun clicks, a single, useless dry-fire, and Taemin gasps sharply, body going tight and strung out.

He’s so tense, just for a moment, and then he goes slack, panting softly. “f*ck…” he whispers after a moment, and then he burst into tears.

Jinki tenses himself, just for a second, for entirely different reasons, but as he sets the gun down and reaches out for Taemin he feels the relief coming off of him in waves. “Taeminnie?” he asks, cupping Taemin’s face gently. “Tae, baby, talk to me.”

“I’m good,” Taemin says, and then laughs, broken and shuddery among the sobs. “I’m so good. I didn’t… didn’t think you’d actually, y’know... shoot me. I’m just… I’m... “

“Taeminnie,” Jinki sighs and sinks to the bed, gathering Taemin into his arms. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Taemin nuzzles into him, breathing heavily against Jinki’s shoulder. “I know,” he whispers. “I know. Thanks. I’m-- I’m good.”

“You are,” Jinki confirms, meaning something totally different than Taemin. “You’re so good.”

Taemin burrows himself into Jinki’s hold, not saying anything else, but after a moment Jinki’s sure he feels Taemin nod.

Chapter 12: Hush

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Jinki can hear Jonghyun before he sees him, soft whines and whimpers that strain higher as he draws closer to the door. When Jinki turns the knob, he feels the want Jonghyun is putting out nearly double in intensity, and when he opens it, Jonghyun looks up at him, eyes wide and wet from tears. “Jinki, please-”

“Jonghyunnie, you’re being so loud...could hear you from outside. The others are going to hear if you’re not quieter, baby boy.”

At his words, Jonghyun’s emotions spike, some fear, more nervousness, mostly arousal. He looks like he wants to say something, but all that comes out when he opens his mouth is a loud whine. Jinki places his hand on Jonghyun’s heaving chest and strokes his own desire into him, smiling in approval when Jonghyun’s body tenses and jerks into his touch.

“Jinki, please-”

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” Jinki asks. Jonghyun whines again and nods eagerly, but he doesn’t seem to have understood the question. “Can you be quiet for me, baby boy?”

And now Jinki is getting nervousness, and the way Jonghyun looks now, shy and needy like he wants to ask something but doesn’t know how… “Jonghyunnie, do you have something you want to tell me?”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and he shakes his head quickly, but Jinki has known him long enough to know what Jonghyun is like when he has something to say but is too nervous to try and ask. “Jonghyunnie, tell me. Be good for me, baby boy.”

“I...I can’t.”

“Can’t what, hm?”

“Want you to make me be quiet,” Jonghyun whispers. He wiggles a little to get more comfortable, even if it’s probably just to buy some time. “Please?”

“Be specific, Jonghyun. You’re being so good for me already, baby. Just use your words.”

“Want a gag! Please, Jinki, I-” A surge of embarrassment, and Jonghyun is pouting now, petulant and flustered. “I thought about it a lot, just...please.”

“Pretty baby. My good baby boy, so proud of you.” And Jinki pours all of his love and pride and affection into the room, just for Jonghyun. “You’re gonna look so pretty, baby.”

“Wanna be pretty,” Jonghyun whispers, “want you to. Please.”

“You should thank Taeminnie then. He knew you’d like this.” Jinki says. “He wanted it to be a surprise for you, Jonghyunnie, but I don’t think he’ll be too mad if we use it now, hm?”

When Jonghyun makes a petulant little noise high in his throat, Jinki laughs and bends to press a slow kiss to Jonghyun’s pouty lips before standing and leaving for Taemin’s room. It’s rather bare, clearly unused, as Taemin only uses it to nap in when the sun is out. It’s the best napping spot in the house, he claims, because the floor and the window seat are warm where the sun pours in, but otherwise, he sleeps in Jonghyun’s room and uses his own to nap in and to grow pretty flowers and plants.

“Taeminnie?” Jinki murmurs, quiet enough so that he doesn’t startle Taemin too badly. All Taemin does is twitch his tail a little and shift a little, but when Jinki goes over to pet his soft fur, Taemin leans up into his hand. Jinki senses sleepy contentment from him, and he pulls away after a long few moments spent petting him in silence. But then he remembers Jonghyun, and the toy buzzing inside of him, and the gag, and he pulls away. The little box is hidden in one of Taemin’s drawers, and Jinki pulls it out and undoes the wrapping, pulling out the ball gag and going into the bathroom to wash it. The collar is black and the gag itself is a soft pink color, and Jonghyun is going to love it.

When Jinki comes back though, Jonghyun is pouting, and it only deepens when Jinki announces his presence. “You left.”

“Not going to ask why, baby boy?”

“...Why?”

Jinki sits on the edge of the bed and pulls the ball gag from behind his back - just the sight of it makes Jonghyun’s hips jerk up into empty air as his lips part for another whimper. “Where...Jinki.”

“Thank Taeminnie,” Jinki says again. After a moment of staring, Jonghyun drops his mouth open, eyes still on the gag. It doesn’t even seem like a conscious gesture, and Jinki can feel his want permeating the room without even trying. “You want it, baby boy?”

“Please.”

“Pretty baby,” Jinki mumbles. “I don’t know if I should...gonna miss your pretty mouth. All your pretty noises.”

“Wanna be good, Jinki. Please, I want it-”

“Quiet, Jonghyunnie.” Jinki nudges the ball of the gag against Jonghyun’s lips and slips it fully in when Jonghyun opens his mouth wide. Jonghyun takes it easily, and Jinki pets his hair and sends out a wave of pride that makes Jonghyun’s eyes flutter shut.

“You look so pretty, Jonghyunnie. Say something for me.”

Jonghyun’s brows knit together and even with his lips stretched out, even without using any magic, he can tell that Jonghyun is pouting. The noises he makes don’t resemble words in the slightest, and he’s starting to drool already with each whine. He looks so pretty, and he wants so much that Jinki can barely distinguish Jonghyun’s want from his own.

“Jonghyunnie,” Jinki rubs his thumb against Jonghyun’s swollen lips as he speaks, focusing on the want and neediness he’s putting out. “Do you want to be a good boy for me?”

More garbled noises and Jonghyun is trying his best to speak, Jinki can tell, but it’s so much better like this, how needy he is and from so little. Jinki presses his thumb against the ball of the gag just to see Jonghyun drool, just to watch him shudder.

“On your hands and knees then, baby boy.”

Jonghyun’s eyes light up when he sees Jinki reach for the button on his pants, and he scrambles to do as he’s told once he realizes what Jinki wants.

Chapter 13: Vitaceus

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Taemin doesn’t mind working overtime. On days the shop is busy, Taemin doesn’t quite get everything done, but it’s not a big deal -- overtime is a half hour at the end of a busy day, pushing magic into the plants who need more love and attention and trying to calm down the ones who grow too fast.

Taemin likes working with his plants, and staying late isn’t too big of a deal. But today has just been a bad day. Jongin is home, recovering from a play session that went a little rough -- Jinki and his thing for weapons, honestly. Not like Taemin can complain, though. But without Jongin, Taemin’s been busy all day, and there was a rush he didn’t expect, a bunch of parents coming in for some event at their kids’ school or something.

Minho had come by mid-afternoon to help, but really all Taemin had been able to do in that time was chug some tea that Minho had delivered from Key and spread out a heavy blanket of power to ensure he got any wilting plants.

He’s regretting it now, because he’s exhausted and slightly annoyed and more than a little in need of some serious stress relief, and he can’t even just go home yet, because there are plants jittering all over the place, and he can’t just leave them, or they’ll overrun the shop by morning.

The thing is, Taemin isn’t great at control. It all comes naturally to him, and that means that he’s never been amazing at keeping his sh*t together. That’s why he made Jongin after all; the companionship is nice, but Taemin had the rest of his coven even before he made Jongin, and not every witch has a familiar -- mostly, it’s the witches with a little more power, a little less control. Familiars make it easy to channel large amounts of energy and easier to control regular amounts.

But without a familiar here, and with the spike of energy that came with Key’s potion, Taemin’s power has gone a little haywire today, and while the flowers are doing fine, blooming and swaying jauntily, alive under his touch, there’s some other plants that are doing almost too well.

Taemin likes most types of plants, but ivys and vines are kind of jerks. And when they’re given a little too much energy, they act like spoiled brats. The moment Taemin steps into room where he has different kinds of vines growing up along trellises against the walls, there are already a few kinds creeping across the floor at unnatural speeds, winding themselves around his ankles and trying to crawl up his legs like the clingy, over-affectionate things they are.

Taemin sighs, prying off a creeping tendril that seems intent on knotting itself around his ankle, trying his best to pull energy out of it so that it’s not as active without accidentally killing it. He doesn’t want to hurt it, he just needs them to not have overtaken the shop by morning. And right now that’s looking really plausible with how another has begun wrapping itself around his waist. Taemin pushes against it with his fingers and his powers, and the strand retreats a little, only for another to surge up the leg he’d just freed.

“This is ridiculous,” Taemin grumbles, patience wearing thin. He just wants to go home and see Jonghyun, who’s probably still up and probably pouty, especially if Jinki’s busy taking care of Jongin today which he definitely is if Jongin is hurting at all; Jinki is nothing if not attentive.

But that means that the sooner Taemin gets home, the sooner he gets to see Jonghyun, and maybe Jonghyun will be in the mood to let Taemin work out some stress, either by f*cking him or riding him. Both sound amazing right now, and Taemin could use it after the day he’s had, but first he has to deal with this.

“Get off.” He pushes weakly at the vines, frowning at them as he tries to figure out how to untangle himself without accidentally damaging them.. He could turn into a cat, but he knows from experience that having vines grabbing at fur isn’t fun. He’d much rather deal with them like this, where the worst they can do is pull at skin and clothes. Which they’re doing well, tugging at Taemin as if trying to pull him into an embrace.

He tugs at them again, prying his fingers under, and then curses when the vine winds itself up his hand instead, tangling around his forearm. “Stupid creepers,” he mumbles, remembering, not for the first time, why they’re labeled an aggressive species.

“Come on,” he whines. “I don’t want to play right now. I’m tired, and I want to go home and see if Jonghyunnie wants to f*ck, and I-- a-ah.”

Taemin stutters to a halt, voice breaking a little as one of the vines crawling up his legs towards his waist begins to snake up over his crotch, the squirming growth of a vine growing at millions of times it’s normal rate. It’s a strange feeling, though not an unpleasant one, and Taemin lets out a startled burst of energy.

Almost at once the vines pick of their pace of growth, responding to the magic almost greedily, and Taemin startles when the vines begin to focus, trying to replicate what they had done to earn that burst of energy before. Taemin shudders, the feeling and the friction beginning to make him flush without meaning to, his co*ck hardening easily in his pants, and… and maybe....

He moves his free arm down, into the tangle of vines, and he can feel smaller shoots beginning to peel off, to twine between his fingers and wrap him up, but he has enough time to unbutton his pants, tugging the zipper halfway down before the growth of the plants pushes his hands away. When he tries to adjust, he realizes that he can’t -- both hands are wound up tight, and the vines have a surprisingly strong grip, feeding off the little pulses of energy he’s giving off, and they have his hands wrapped up tight now, he realizes.

And maybe it’s the adrenaline, the tiny spark of fear that makes his heart jump and his powers surge, but he doesn’t try and push them away. The vines are strong, and with a space to grow into now, tendrils begin pushing into the gap of his pants, squirming over the fabric beneath, and Taemin gasps at the sensation as the vines latch, growing in spirals around his co*ck and squirming, moving, unnatural in a way that’s all magic.

Taemin gasps, his legs wobbling, and the vines around them tighten -- they’re too thin to hold him up, but they stabilize him, keep him from tumbling, and Taemin lets them tug him in until he’s half pinned against the lattice they were originally growing on. They’ve long outgrown it now, climbing him instead, and vines push beneath his clothes easily now, squirming up under his shirt and into his pants, further and further and Taemin has a moment of clarity, the thought to call it off, to cut off the energy flow and stop this.

But then the growing plant finds somewhere new to explore, pushing lazily against his hole, and Taemin lets out a filthy moan and sags against the lattice. The vines wind around him easily, holding him in place, and Taemin lets them. He’s pulsing with energy now, each spike of pleasure, each moment against his co*ck, and… and god, it feels filthy to think about it, about the way the plant is prodding and pushing, responding to Taemin’s energy and how easy it can get it if only it pushes there, just there, and--

Taemin cries out as the vine figures it out, pushing with just enough force to slip inside, and it’s not lubed, but it’s not big enough to hurt. The texture is almost distressing in the best way, in the way that Taemin can’t deny what this is, that this isn’t normal; it makes him squirm, mouth dropping open as he moans, and the plant wriggles, growing, pushing inside.

“f*ck,” Taemin whimpers, and tugs a little at his hands, but the vines hold him fast, the one around his co*ck twisting and winding, and the one inside of him-- “God, f*ck.”

It’s not like being f*cked. It just winds and tangles and twists and it’s maddening, the inconsistency, the pressure so close to where he wants it and then away again and then back, perfect, and then-- Taemin is quivering, sagged against the lattice and he’s weak, he’s so weak, but he pushes with his energy, encouraging, needing.

The vine inside of him begins to thicken, growing under his command, and then there’s another one, pushing curiously at his rim, and this one hurts, stretching him open, but it tangles easily with the first, the two of them weaving and wriggling inside of him, and Taemin lets out a sob, arching his back and crying out.

The vine around his co*ck winds tighter, a little tight around the base and a single shoot prodding at the tip where Taemin is beginning to drip precome. The second the shoot touches it, the whole ivy seems to quiver, and Taemin doesn’t know what’s happening, doesn’t know where he lost control or how to get it back, but the whole plant seems to come alive.

It crawls over him, almost enveloping him, and Taemin gasps in shock, but he’s not… he’s not afraid. The plant is holding him, embracing him, and the vines inside of Taemin wriggle free, falling away. Taemin lets out a broken cry of loss, confused and wanton, and there’s just a moment of nothing and then the vines wrap around his co*ck and begin moving. Not winding, but moving, like they’re jerking him off, and Taemin moans, co*ck spurting precome as he bodily jerks. The vine at the base of his co*ck tightens subtly, and Taemin feels his balls tighten uselessly as another vine winds around them, cradling them, holding him as the vines twine around his co*ck, pumping and pulsing, and Taemin is leaking precome now, dribbling down his co*ck and down the vines and oh- oh f*ck.

The vines slides away and then back in, pushing inside of him again, and now they’re wet and messy with Taemin’s precome, sliding inside more easily, pushing into him with none of the care a human might show. A third wriggles in amidst the other two, all of them just thinner than a finger, stretching him wider, and they feel almost alive now, the movements focused, like they’re just… like they’re trying to get more, to get Taemin to give them move. More energy, more… more something.

Taemin gives easily, sobbing as the vines f*ck him, and the thought of holding himself up is long gone but the vines seems stronger now, pinning him in place as another vine presses up and inside of him, squirming up through the center of the others and stretching him in a way that makes him shout out, co*ck pulsing as his body shakes.

And Taemin is no stranger to dry org*sms, his heats dragging one out of him after the other, but he doesn’t usually feel deprived like this, doesn’t feel strung out as the vines press harder, more eagerly. Another one squirms inside, and then another and Taemin can hear his own voice, cracking around moans and whimpers and sobs as the vines take him apart, the ones around his co*ck winding thicker, harder.

And then the one at the base shifts as the same time as the several inside his ass grind up into him and Taemin comes with a shout, come spurting out across the vines. Almost at once, they slacken, retreating. Taemin crumples to the floor in a heap, panting.

The wines are still around him, but they seem gentler now, prodding and poking at his skin, growing up over him almost gently. The hold is gone, and Taemin can feel the soreness all over, but the plants are relaxing. Somewhat. They’re still taking over the room now, a dozen times -- easily -- as large as when Taemin walked into the room however long ago, but they seem almost sated, and Taemin leans back into them, trembling.

“f*ck,” he whispers to himself, because what else is he supposed to say to this? “I-- god…” He bursts into laughter, shaking with it, and then leans into the leaves. He feels strung out, worn thin, and his eyes are heavy, his body limp. He’s not sleeping, but he can’t help but doze, cradled by the leaves, for a few minutes at least.

He opens his eyes to the sound of his ringtone, the obnoxious tones of Who Let the Dogs Out blasting through the speakers. He laughs and answers it. “Hey, Jonginnie.”

“Tae? You okay? You should have been home an hour ago!”

Jongin sounds so worried, and Taemin rolls his eyes. “I’m fine,” he says. “Don’t worry so much. Just got caught up, uh… feeding a plant.”

“Uhm…” Jongin says. “Yeah. That’s… believable.”

“I did,” Taemin says. “I might have to transplant it too. I don’t-- I don’t think having it in the shop is a great idea, but I’d like to keep an eye on it.”

“Okay…?” Jongin says, clearly lost.

Taemin laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’d just like to spend a little more time with this one.”

Preferably, Taemin thinks, during his next heat.

“I’ll be home soon,” Taemin says, and hangs up, looking up at the ceiling for a moment longer before sighing. He has no idea how he’s going to get the smell of come out of here before Jongin comes into work tomorrow.

Chapter 14: Lingua

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“You’re just jealous because you’re not flexible enough to,” Taemin says as Jongin walks into the room with Minho. Minho’s sweating from their jog, and while Jongin is dry, having just changed back to his human form, he’s breathing heavily and is more than a little exhausted.

He collapses onto the couch in a heap, Minho following suit, and Key looks up from their chair and sighs deeply, looking over them with slightly fond disgust. “Honestly, the shower is like 30 feet away from you.”

“I will in a minute, don’t worry,” Minho says, laughing.

Jongin leans heavily into Minho’s side, a puff of breathless laughter on his own lips. Minho ruffles his hair playfully, and Jongin knows body language well enough to read an invitation. Minho’s just giving them a moment to relax first.

“What are you not flexible enough for?” Minho asks curiously, clearly heading off more commentary about his sweatiness.

Key doesn’t look fooled, but Taemin snorts, obviously not caring, and settles a little more languidly into his own seat, sprawled into a chair. “Key’s making fun of me for being a cat again.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Key says, looking over him. “I just think it’s interesting that you can literally lick your own asshole, and yet you pretty consistently get Jonghyunnie to do it for you.”

Taemin makes a high, strangled noise. “I can’t when I’m human,” he says, sitting up straight, and then side-eying Minho when he begins to laugh, low and amused.

“Some people just like it, Key,” he says, voice a little intent. It could be nothing, but Jongin knows better, especially when Minho’s hand brushes casually against his leg and stays there. Jongin’s cheeks flush pink, and he looks anywhere but at the others, feeling suddenly flustered and embarrassed all at once.

If it were just Key it would be one thing, but it feels weird to just discuss this in front of Taemin. Jongin couldn’t even say why, because none of them have qualms about discussing sex in front of the others, but in front of Taemin, Jongin feels himself squirming, waiting for Taemin to make a noise of disgust.

But Taemin only looks at him for a moment before rolling his eyes a little and saying, “Besides, we’ve talked about kinkshaming in this household, Key.”

“We’ve talked about it,” Key agrees. “And I’m not shaming. We all know Jonghyunnie’s got an oral fixation, and… well…”

Key trails off, but their eyes skim over Jongin. Jongin bites back a flustered whine, tucking himself firmly into Minho to hide, even though Minho halfway started this. Minho’s fingers are still touching his leg, curving further over Jongin’s thigh, the tips almost brushing the inner seam of Jongin’s pants. Jongin, peeking out only enough to make sure Taemin isn’t watching, lets his legs fall a little wider for Minho.

Key makes a soft sighing noise. “You two really should go take a shower.”

Minho laughs softly and then nods. “Jonginnie?”

Jongin peers at Taemin again, but there’s no point in hiding it now. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we can… uhm…”

He glances at Taemin again, cheeks flushed, but he scrambles to his feet. Minho guides them to the bathroom, tugging off his shirt as he goes. His shorts follow, hitting the floor, and Minho is naked in front of him, not even trying to pretend to hide as he reaches into the shower, twisting on the knob and pulling the tap to turn it from a bath to a shower.

Jongin stands there for a moment, anticipation settling heavy in his stomach, and his co*ck stirs vaguely at the thought of what Minho implied. He wants that, so badly, and he feels his flush spread as he realizes that his mouth is watering a little.

“Minho,” he starts, and Minho stands straight, looking at him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t give him orders or tease or anything -- that’s not their relationship, and Jongin doesn’t want it to be. If Key were here it’d be different, but here, the two of them are on equal ground, equal footing, and still, Jongin can’t seem to find the words. “I… what you said -- or, what Key said, I--”

He can’t get the thought across, too flustered, and Minho chuckles a bit and steps closer, pulling Jongin in for a quick kiss. “I’m gonna clean up,” he says, eyes flickering towards the shower. “You gonna watch, or are you gonna join me?”

Jongin nods hastily, giving a yes to a question that very much wasn’t a yes-or-no question. But when Minho steps away again, climbing into the shower, Jongin begins tugging at his clothes, peeling off his shirt and jeans and boxers -- the perks of shifting for a run is that he doesn’t have to change clothes, but now he’s regretting a little not being quite so simply dressed as Minho.

It takes him a second, and when he looks up from struggling with the zipper of his jeans, Minho is watching him with amusem*nt through the clear shower curtain, lathering soap into his hands and reaching non-too-subtly back to clean himself. Jongin knows why too, and he lets out a soft moan that echoes vaguely off the tile of the bathroom.

Jongin bites his lip, teeth pressing into it slowly. “I… can I…?”

“Jongin,” Minho says softly. “Do you want to eat me out?”

Jongin feels like someone’s knocked the air out of him. He nods, tugging his clothes all the way off, and moves to clamber into the tub, sliding a little on the slick surface. Minho catches him easily, pulling him in, and presses a kiss to Jongin’s mouth again.

Jongin melts into it easily, always hungry for affection in whatever form it comes. Minho’s fingers hold him gently, keeping him upright, grip on his skin slippery with soap, and Jongin can’t help himself. He giggles a little into the kiss -- there’s really, honestly no better word for it than that. He feels strangely giddy, and Minho holds him so gently.

“Yeah,” he finds himself whispering, a sudden pulse of bravery rushing through him. “Yeah, please, I wanna.”

Minho pulls away just far enough to grin openly. “Wanna what?”

And now he is teasing, but he doesn’t hold Jongin in place when Jongin moves to get on his knees, doesn’t deprive him until he’s said. He lets Jongin settle, knees pressing into the porcelain of the tub, and he lets Jongin settle his hands on Minho’s hips, guiding him around until he’s facing away.

Minho presses his palms against the shower wall, bending slightly, his back arching, and water cascades down it, running over the muscles of his back and down past his ass, washing away the remnants of the soap where Minho had cleaned himself. Jongin swallows thickly.

“It’s not-- you know this isn’t… I just, I just like…” Jongin makes a frustrated sound.

“Jonginnie,” Minho says gently, looking back at him. “You don’t have to explain to me. I like it too, so please--”

His voice cracks, just on the last note, the first sign of need slipping into his voice, and that relaxes Jongin in a way nothing else could have. Jongin moans softly, leaning in, his fingers pressing into Minho’s hips to urge him to spread his legs, just a little, to give Jongin access.

Jongin doesn’t have enough willpower to stop now, even if he wanted to, so he doesn’t. He leans in, licking a thick stripe up and over Minho’s hole, and Minho lets out a loud gasp, back arching subtly further.

Jongin whines and does it again, and then again, and Minho moans hoarsely as Jongin’s tongue swipes over the rim, egging Jongin on until he can’t stand it anymore. He wants to make Minho moan like that, wants him to feel good, and he stops trying to care about the newness and the strangeness as he begins actively working his tongue into Minho.

Minho gasps sharply, clenching just for a moment, and then he sags a little, further into the wall, his arms quivering where he’s holding himself up. “Jongin,” he groans after a moment, voice pitchy and breathless. “f*ck, you’re so-- your mouth feels so good.”

Jongin whines quietly, his co*ck twitching obviously, but he doesn’t even care. All he cares about is Minho in front of him, bent over for him like this. Jongin feels a rush of warmth, of want, and he readjusts his grip, helping hold Minho open as he leans in and buries himself in Minho’s ass, all but forcing his tongue inside.

Minho moans so loudly that not even the water could have covered it up, and lifts one hand from the wall to try and muffle his noises, but Jongin pulls away with a whine. “No,” he says, “don’t. I want… I like hearing. Want to make you feel good. Minho…”

Minho’s hand drops, back to the wall, and he nods, a tremor going through him. “I’m -- yeah. God, I just… Jonginnie, I don’t think human tongues feel like that, not entirely. I’m-- f*ck.”

And Jongin hadn’t thought about it, about the way the he doesn’t quite achieve human at the best of times, about the way he wriggles when he’s happy and growls when he’s upset and just the little things -- he hadn’t thought about physical traits, but… but it makes sense, and Jongin swallows hard.

“What… what does it feel like?” he asks.

Minho groans softly. “Do it again and I’ll tell you.”

And Jongin couldn’t ignore that if he wanted to. He leans back in eagerly, holding Minho open, and he licks inside of him again, tongue sliding easier now that he’s made space for it once. It tastes of skin and soap and nothing pleasant, but Minho buckles, moaning loudly, his hole clenching on Jongin’s tongue, and Jongin can’t even think straight.

He doesn’t even try to keep track of what he’s doing, just f*cking his tongue in and out of Minho’s ass, and he feels dizzy with the way Minho is halfway nonsensical right now, moans tumbling off his lips and interrupting every other word as he chokes out, “f*ck, Jonginnie, it’s-- nng, it’s long. And, oh god--”

Minho sobs, a full-body shudder running through him, and he backs onto Jongin’s tongue. Jongin doesn’t try to stop him, just pushes back and tries to fit more of his tongue inside, licking in wet, messy strokes. Minho is halfway dripping with Jongin’s saliva now, his hole slick and wet, and Jongin wants so badly.

“Oh god, Jonginnie, I want you to-- ah, god, Jonginnie, ‘m close,” Minho chokes out, and Jongin feels a rush of disappointment. He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t. He wants to lick Minho open for hours, feel him shake and moan under him like this. He wants to come inside him and lick it back out. He wants more.

Minho comes with a shout, come splashing against the tile and the porcelain, and Jongin whimpers as he begins to pull away, but Minho lets out a broken noise. “Please, don’t stop.”

Jongin moans in surprise. Minho is breathing heavily, entire body heaving, but just the first touch of Jongin’s tongue has him nearly sobbing. When Jongin presses his tongue back in, Minho’s co*ck gives a visible twitch, and Minho reaches down to squeeze it softly, letting out a broken noise.

Jongin lets out a soft groan, letting go of Minho’s hip to reach down, wriggling two fingers inside beside his tongue, and Minho makes a sharp, high sound, his other arm buckling. He leans his forehead against the shower wall, panting, and the change in position is sending water everywhere, but Jongin doesn’t mind. He spreads his fingers, wriggling his tongue between them as he fingers Minho open, and Minho cries out, his voice clear and gorgeous and so loud, so needy. Because of Jongin.

Jongin pulls away, and Minho chokes on a sob. “Jonginnie--”

“Minho, wanna f*ck you. Please. Please, I wanna,” Jongin whines, desperate for something. “I’ll eat you out again after. I’ll clean you up. I just need--”

“Yes. Yes, god, yes,” Minho says, lifting his head just enough to look at Jongin, and Jongin nods and scrambles to his feet. It takes just a moment to position them, but Jongin is the only one who’s even close to Minho in height, and it’s not hard to get him pinned to the wall, slightly more stable. Jongin’s co*ck presses against his ass, still slick with saliva, and Minho groans. “Jongin, please.”

Jongin nods, leaning into Minho. He wraps his arms around him, reaching forward to brace his arms along the outsides of Minho’s, pressing into the wall on either side of him, and he settles himself and pushes forwards, upwards, his co*ck sliding along Minho’s ass and catching at the rim of Minho’s hole, stretched open by Jongin’s tongue and fingers.

Jongin pauses, just for a moment, and then he pushes in. Minho is holding his breath, leaning his head against the tile again, but as Jongin pushes all the way in, hips settling flush with Minho’s ass, Minho lets out a noisy exhale, letting go of all his air at once and tipping his head back, angled so that it lands on Jongin’s shoulder.

It’s just a moment, just a second of nothing but the sound of pounding water, and then Minho rolls his hips back with a low moan and a mumble of, “Knew this would feel good.”

Jongin lets out a laugh that sounds more like a groan. “You had a vision of me f*cking you in the shower?”

Minho laughs back, cutting off sharply as Jongin begins moving, pulling back carefully before pushing in again, slow and steady. “N-no,” he breathes, stuttering a little. “No, god, just wanted you to. Didn’t know you’d be that good with your mouth either. Your tongue.”

Jongin feels him shiver bodily at the thought, and he’d almost be a little offended if Minho didn’t gasp as he thrust up again, rolling back down against him and groaning, “There, f*ck, Jongin.”

Jongin obeys, picking up speed, slowly at first and then faster and faster, and Minho drops his head forward again, fingers straining against the tile to hold himself up as he f*cks back against Jongin, eager and noisy and perfect.

Jongin whimpers. “Minho, I’m gonna-- are you--?”

Minho shudders. “Come in me,” he groans. “Jongin, come.”

Jongin’s hips stutter, and maybe it’s conditioning or maybe he was already so close, but just the words make his abs clench and his balls tighten and then he’s coming, hips pushing against Minho’s in short jerks as he fills Minho up, muffling a loud moan into the skin of Minho’s shoulder.

Jongin is trembling now, legs weak and chest heaving, but Minho is still braced, his co*ck still hard, and Jongin remembers his offer clearly. He slips out of Minho, and then he’s on his knees again, hands pushing Minho’s hips forward as he leans in and licks over his hole, loose and dripping with Jongin’s come.

Minho shouts, a noisy burst of sound, and he lifts one hand weakly towards his mouth and then lets it fall as Jongin licks inside of him again. Minho doesn’t just take it this time. He’s f*cking himself down towards Jongin’s tongue now, the way he had his co*ck, making desperate little noises, and Jongin pulls back, dragging his tongue once around the rim and lifting his hand to Minho’s co*ck, and Minho doesn’t even try to bite down the scream he lets out as he comes again, harder now, his entire body shaking with it as his co*ck spurts come all over the shower wall.

His legs go weak, and Jongin only just catches him, tugging him down to the floor with him and turning him to face him. Jongin kisses him desperately, not even thinking about where his mouth has been, and Minho kisses him back, breaking away all too early to gasp for air.

“God,” he whispers.

Jongin grins, just the tiniest bit hesitant. “I… that good?”

“Jongin,” Minho says, almost incredulous. But whatever he was going to say gets cut off as someone bangs on the door.

“If you two are done using all the hot water?” It’s Jonghyun, and Jongin bites his lips together to hide the laugh because Jonghyun of all people.

“He’s jealous,” Minho whispers, and Jongin loses the fight against his laughter.

Minho smiles at him. “Okay, but Jonghyun’s going to have to wait,” he says, and when Jongin co*cks his head slightly, Minho laughs. “I literally can’t feel my legs.”

Somehow, impossibly, that's what makes Jongin blush again. That and the look Key gives him when he halfway carries Minho to his room a few minutes later, not even trying to be subtle about the way Minho is limping slightly.

Chapter 15: Amaurotic

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Jonghyun feels helpless and there’s even a brief flash of fear when Jinki comes back in the room and closes the door behind him, but as soon as Jinki says his name, he calms and whines in a petulant tone, “Jinki.”

“Yes, baby?”

Jonghyun shifts a little, and he’s pouting when Jinki draws closer. He starts when Jinki brushes his thumb against his cheek, and his pout only grows. “Jinki.”

“Hm?”

All Jonghyun does now is open his mouth, and when Jinki focuses, he can already feel the hesitation and eagerness and arousal that Jonghyun is putting out. “Already, baby boy?”

The arousal spikes at that, and Jinki hides his smile even though he knows Jonghyun can’t see it. There’s another spike when Jonghyun hears him fumble with his belt buckle, and then again when Jinki carefully, gently straddles him. “Jinki,” Jonghyun whispers, and it’s needy now, not quite a whine but almost there.

“Use your words, Jonghyunnie. Tell me what you want.”

“But you know.”

“You have to tell me what you want, love.”

“Just you, Jinki, please. I’ll be good.”

“Always good for me, Jonghyunnie. So good and pretty for me.” Jinki lets his fingers rest against the blindfold he’s put on Jonghyun, then leans down for a quick kiss that makes Jonghyun gasp.

“Please, Jinki. Want my mouth full, please.”

As Jinki shuffles back a little, he puts out a strong wave of pride that makes Jonghyun tense, and then gasp as he nudges the tip of his co*ck against Jonghyun’s lips and pets his hair. “Such a good boy, Jonghyunnie, asking for what you want.”

“Can I? Please?” Jonghyun asks. He’s eager, needy already, and Jinki can’t help laughing a little.

“Of course, baby boy.”

Even just the pet name makes another wave of want ripple through him, and Jinki sends it back out to Jonghyun after adding his own. “See how good you are for me, Jonghyunnie?”

“Jinki, daddy- please, can I? Wanna, please-” As Jonghyun speaks, Jinki shifts forward just a little, just enough so that the head of his co*ck slips inside Jonghyun’s mouth.

“Pretty mouth,” Jinki coos. Knowing Jonghyun, he’s probably already starting to tear up, and Jinki thumbs at the edge of the blindfold, almost wishing he could just take it off so Jonghyun could see how good he is. He doesn’t though - at least one of them needs to have some kind of impulse control, and he knows that if he asks Jonghyun if he should take the blindfold off, Jonghyun will whine and pout and beg for him to. And Jinki also knows that if Jonghyun does that, he’ll have to obey.

“Gonna be a good boy and take it all, Jonghyunnie? Or do you only want a little?” As he speaks, Jinki rocks his hips, just enough so Jonghyun’s mouth is full. He whines when Jinki does so, a garbled noise around Jinki’s co*ck, and Jinki doesn’t even have to try to know that Jonghyun wants more.

“Good boy,” Jinki mumbles. He angles his co*ck to press against Jonghyun’s cheek and rubs his thumb against the bulge there. “Pretty baby. Feels good, doesn’t it? Making us both feel so good, Jonghyunnie. Can you be good and touch yourself for me?”

Jonghyun makes another needy noise and when Jinki looks back, his hand is already reaching for his co*ck, stroking in time with the rock of Jinki’s hips into his mouth. “Look so pretty like this, Jonghyunnie. Don’t know if I want to show you off or keep you all to myself...what do you think, baby boy?”

Jinki pulls back slow enough that Jonghyun whimpers, admiring the swollen curve of his lips and the slight sheen of saliva decorating them. “Gorgeous, Jonghyunnie. You’re so pretty for me, baby boy.”

“Daddy,” Jonghyun sobs, “want it. Please, want it all.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Jonghyunnie. Should I show you off or keep you all to myself, hm?”

“I...daddy.”

“Answer me, pretty baby.”

“Want...want you to choose. Please. I’m...daddy, please.”

“Precious,” Jinki murmurs. “Open up, Jonghyunnie, daddy’s going to take good care of you.”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and he whimpers as he does as he’s told.

Chapter 16: Saltatio

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Minho likes spy movies. He likes mysteries and things with espionage and things that will surprise him still. Having a semi-constant idea of where things are going in real life makes him hard to surprise, and he likes watching things that can’t predict, doesn’t already know.

But Minho isn’t the only one who likes them -- Taemin is a fan of them as well, less for the mystery and more for the shoot-out scenes. They all know about Taemin’s fascination with guns, and how he and Jinki sometimes play.

But even when Jinki’s not there, Taemin will wander through the room in the middle of a shoot-out and get caught up, settling himself in in the middle of a movie and asking Minho in short breaks to summarize the beginning for him.

It’s a nice tradition between the two of them, and when Minho starts a new movie and settles in to watch, he’s actually anticipating Taemin coming in. Which Taemin does, twenty minutes later, padding through the room in boxers.

He pauses at the sight of the man on screen, dressed in a full suit, his jacket falling back to show the gun tucked into the back of his belt, watching for a moment. As the camera pans up, past the close-up of the gun and over the man’s shoulder, focusing in on a woman in skimpy black lingerie, Taemin lets out a snort.

The man on screen is supposed to be being seduced by the woman, and she saunters towards him easily, the camera panning up, hanging gratuitously on her cleavage, on her blood red lips, her fingers hooking into her panties as she moves, giving the illusion that the movie might actually show something.

Minho looks away from the screen to Taemin. “Suho told me the beginning was like this, but the ending is supposed to be really good.”

Taemin snorts. “He told you the beginning was a bad p*rno with an even worse stripper?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Taemin, have you ever actually seen a stripper?”

“Does it matter?” Taemin scoffs. “Look at that. That’s-- wow, literally that is the worst lapdance I have ever had to see with my own two eyes.”

Minho glances at the screen and he… he really doesn’t disagree. Maybe he’s biased, but he mostly feels vaguely uncomfortable. There’s soft jazz music playing and the man is reaching up to slide his hand over her breast in a way that looks most just clumsy and weird, and the girl moans in a way that makes Minho cringe and--

“f*ck, just turn that off,” Taemin whines. “I could give a better lapdance than that.”

Minho laughs a little. “I mean, I don’t think that’s hard.”

Taemin looks mildly offended. “I’d give a damn good lap dance,” he says. “Feline grace and all that sh*t. I’m amazing at dancing.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but there’s a difference between-- Tae?” Taemin has stolen the remote out of his hand and he’s stopping the movie, turning the TV off.

“Hold on, where’s your-- frick,” Taemin says, and walks over to grab Minho’s phone. Minho looks curiously at him, but Taemin just bats a hand, taking a long moment before he makes an approving noise and tosses the phone onto the couch. After a moment, a slow song begins playing out of the speakers, a low bass thrum pulsing under it. “You don’t have any good songs. I had to go to through spotify.”

“For what?” Minho asks, even though he’s already sure he knows. “Tae--”

“I’m proving a point,” Taemin says, and then leans into Minho, drawing a finger up his throat and tipping Minho’s head up towards himself. He dips down, a soft pout on his lips, and he brushes his lips over Minho’s cheek, near his ear, his voice pitched low and almost teasing as he murmurs, “Don’t you want to see what a real one is like?”

Minho doesn’t even know what to think, but he’s not going to say no. When he nods, Taemin makes a soft, breathy sound, probably put on but so much like the noises Minho has heard Taemin make before that he feels his stomach tighten, his co*ck taking an interest.

Taemin grins, sinking easily into Minho’s lap, knees pressing into the couch on either side of Minho. He bites his lip, head tipped slightly down and lips curving up slightly into the smirk.

Minho’s breath catches slightly. “Tae,” he starts, and Taemin laughs softly, reaching forward. He settles one hand on the couch behind Minho’s head, the other going back to grip Minho’s knee and support himself. Minho opens his mouth to speak and then gasps as Taemin rolls his hips, starting up a careful rhythm that syncs up quickly with the bass of the song.

Minho groans, not even sure how he got here, which is a new experience, honestly. This is genuinely unexpected in a way a lot of things aren’t, and that sends a thrill through him in a way.

He had just been planning to watch a movie, but now he has a lap full of Taemin, his hips moving in slow, fluid circles. When Minho tries to lean up, Taemin’s hand falls from the back of the couch, settling against Minho’s chest, and he pushes him back, fingertips pressing into Minho’s chest as he rolls his hips down, tossing his head back and letting out a low groan.

“Aren’t--” Taemin starts, and then his breath hitches slightly, so genuine and so pretty that Minho has to bite back a quiet moan at the sound alone. “Ah-- aren’t you going to touch me, Minho?”

Minho bites his lip and then nods, hands sliding onto Taemin’s thighs, holding him gently. Taemin grins and grinds down pointedly, shifting so that his co*ck rocks just once against Minho’s, barely more than a tease, and then he lifts his hips again, putting some space between them as he rolls his body in slow, teasing waves that shouldn’t be as enticing as they really are.

“Minho,” Taemin breathes, just his name, but Minho shudders helplessly at the thought of making Taemin say his name like that over and over.

Minho’s hands slide up his thighs, Taemin’s boxers bunching under his touch, and Minho doesn’t know how Taemin has made boxers and a t-shirt infinitely hotter than specially-selected lingerie, but he does. Minho’s fingers slide under the hem of the boxers, pushing them higher, fingers drifting up Taemin’s legs, and Taemin rolls his hips down willingly into Minho’s touch like he’s asking for more, letting out a short, soft, pleading sound, and--

Taemin pulls away, sliding off of Minho’s lap.

Minho blinks, almost dazed. “Taemin?”

“The song’s over,” Taemin says, a grin on his lips. “See? That’s how you do a lapdance.”

Minho lets out a quiet groan. “f*ck.”

And Taemin lifts a hand, poorly smothering his laughter for a moment before he leans back in. He doesn’t tease this time, just presses a kiss to Minho’s lips firm and promising. “I can show you more, if you want.”

Minho shivers and lets Taemin pull him up and back towards his room, not even caring about the smug smirk that hovers on Taemin’s lips the entire way.

Chapter 17: Somnolent

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

When Jonghyun wakes, he’s almost uncomfortably warm, and it takes his sleepy brain a few moments to realize why. When he does, he smiles and rolls over so Taemin can press his sleep-swollen lips to Jonghyun’s own instead of the back of his neck. It’s not a deep kiss, and Taemin’s hands are clumsy with sleep when he tugs Jonghyun over, half-dragging him to rest atop him. Jonghyun feels even hotter now, trapped between Taemin’s warm body and even warmer blankets, but he doesn’t really mind, not when Taemin’s hands run up and down his sides in slow, idle circles.

“Shouldn’t you be at the shop?” Jonghyun asks when he pulls away, scooting down to rest his head against Taemin’s chest. His heart thumps quick and steady in his chest, and his voice rumbles through Jonghyun’s whole body when he grumbles in response.

“Don’t tell me you left it all to Jongin again?”

“Minho’s there too! He wanted to spend more time with Jongin anyway, so it worked out.”

Jonghyun makes a quiet noise of disbelief, rolling his eyes and biting back a smile when Taemin noses closer. “Besides,” he continues, and there’s a clear grin in his voice when he says, “I got to wake up with you.”

And god, that’s such a cheesy thing to say, but it still makes Jonghyun feel melty and soft and small, and he whines as he rolls off of Taemin to bury his face in one of the pillows. “I hate when you do that.”

“No you don’t, Jonghyunnie.” Taemin sounds like he’s close to laughter, and Jonghyun can’t quite tell, but when Taemin kisses the back of his neck as an apology, it feels like a smile.

“Hate it, and I’m mad at you.”

“You’re always mad at me, Jonghyunnie. It’s cute how flustered you get.”

“Not cute!” And god, Jonghyun doesn’t know why he’s so flustered when Taemin has only said this much, but he feels like his face is burning, and Taemin’s huffs of laughter are not helping.

“Very cute, Jonghyunnie.” As he speaks, Taemin throws his leg over Jonghyun’s, shuffling closer so they’re spooning and kissing his neck again in apology. His lips linger this time, and his hand shifts on Jonghyun’s hip, and it’s not much, but there’s a quiet implication there, and it makes Jonghyun’s breath catch in his throat.

“I...Tae.”

“Yes, Jonghyunnie?”

“I...can we? Just...I want to. Please?” Even as he speaks, Jonghyun shifts back, and Taemin grips his hip even tighter, dragging him back slow and steady.

“Yeah, yeah we can. Just like this.”

And just like this is fine, more than fine. With each slow movement, Taemin’s breaths puff against the back of Jonghyun’s neck; he lets go of Jonghyun’s hip to fumble for his hand to hold tight. “Want you to feel good too, Jonghyunnie.”

“Can I?”

Taemin doesn’t have to look to know where Jonghyun’s free hand is drifting, what he’s asking for. “Yeah, you can. Want you to.”

Jonghyun makes one of those involuntary little sounds, and Taemin’s stomach swoops. “Sound so pretty for me,” he mumbles, just for the way Jonghyun does it again, “missed your pretty noises.”

“Tae,” Jonghyun breathes out, “want you to touch. Please.”

Taemin nods and kisses Jonghyun’s neck again, but when he moves to do as Jonghyun’s asked, his hand is still there. “Jonghyunnie, are you gonna move your hand for me? Want to feel you.”

“No, I...I wanna do it together. Just…” Jonghyun curls in on himself a little when Taemin covers his hand with his own, squeezing gently and starting a steady pace that he soon matches with the roll of his hips.

“Dreamt about you, Jonghyunnie. You looked so pretty on your knees for me.”

The noise that falls from Jonghyun’s lips is a mix of a whimper and a gasp, and Taemin replays that breathy sound in his head before speaking again. “You were so good for me too, Jonghyunnie. Took it all so easily, let me come in your pretty mouth.”

And yeah, maybe Taemin isn’t as good as Jinki or Key at leading Jonghyun with words, but Jonghyun is so easy for them when he’s like this, so soft and pliant and needy. “Are you gonna let me do that now, Jonghyunnie?”

“I...nuh uh.”

“Why not?”

“Want...my face.”

And just the mental image, of Jonghyun blinking up at him through his lashes with pouty red lips and come staining his cheeks makes Taemin shudder and curse under his breath. “Yeah, Jonghyunnie. Be good for me and I will. Whatever you want, baby boy.”

Jonghyun whines now, and it’s so loud and needy that Taemin shushes him and murmurs, “Be quiet, or they’ll all hear you.”

And he’s not Jinki, and he’s not Key, but Jonghyun shudders and whines again, body tensing in the way it always does when Jonghyun is about to come. “Tae, I...”

“What, do you want them to hear?”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and it’s only another second before he comes between their fingers, another quiet whimper on his lips. As Taemin pulls his hand free, he kisses the curve of Jonghyun’s shoulder and mumbles a quiet, “Good boy,” that makes Jonghyun whine, this time in protest.

“Wanna finish you, please. On my face, like your dream.”

“So good for me, Jonghyunnie. On your knees then.”

Even as Taemin speaks, Jonghyun rolls out of bed and slides to his knees, lips already parted and more than ready to be good and suck Taemin off, just like in his dream.

Chapter 18: Imperium

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“What are you making?” Jongin asks curiously, barely covering his mouth to catch a yawn. It’s early, but Jongin had slept in dog form and, unfortunately, woken up to the sound of Taemin f*cking someone -- he’s not sure who, but the sound of Taemin moaning made it hard to go back to sleep.

So instead he pads into the kitchen in human form, keeping him from having to hear more than necessary. Key, as usual, is there, mixing something up, though it doesn’t smell nearly as good as it usually does. Some days, they’ll spend the whole day in the kitchen together, Key brewing tea and Jongin testing out new ingredients, the whole room smelling sweet and spicy and fragrant.

Jongin wants to do that again soon, but right now, Key seems concentrated on what they’re doing, barely glancing up at Jongin except to say, “Hand me that container -- the black one with the-- yeah.”

“What is that?” Jongin asks, and Key shakes it a little. It sloshes, something wet and thick, and when Key pulls off the lid, Jongin recoils at the smell. “Ugh.”

“It’s snake venom. I’m--” Key pauses, practically holding their breath as they pour a slow stream into the bowl they’re working in. There’s maybe a half cup of mixture and it lets off an audible hiss and begins to roil unnaturally, the magic in it suddenly unstable. Key very quickly caps off the venom, pushing it into place, and then looks at Jongin. “Jonginnie, don’t be scared, okay? I have to add the last ingredient.”

Jongin blinks at them in confusion and then realizes. Key’s lifting a knife to their palm, the same thing that had upset Jongin only a few weeks ago. But that had been before, and now, rather than yelping as Key pulls the blade over their palm, Jongin’s cheeks flush with the memory of Jinki teaching him why Key might not mind.

Key draws the blade flat across their palm, a slow, careful motion that reminds Jongin of Jinki in every touch, and then they dip the whole thing into the mixture, stirring it with the bloodied blade until it settles, turning a deep red-tinged black. After a second longer, Key pulls the knife out and the whole thing seems to shimmer before congealing into a small stone. Key plucks it out of the bowl.

“Magic,” they say, raising a teasing eyebrow at Jongin, and then their expression changes, their amusem*nt taking on a slightly more devious edge. “Are you okay, Jongin? You’re looking a little flustered.

Jongin swallows. “I… I don’t mind seeing you-- I mean…” He fumbles weakly, knowing that that’s the understatement of the year. "It’s not that bad anymore, watching you use blood.”

Key laughs. “Jinki got to you, then?” they ask, reaching up with their clean hand to cup Jongin’s jaw. “I thought he might. You and him match up well, in terms of what you like.”

“I mean, he didn’t make me,” Jongin says. “He just say that Minho liked… liked when you-- but he and Minho don’t really…”

Key hums softly. “No, they don’t match up quite as well,” they say, and they must see the way Jongin’s brow furrows because they laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. Those two would die for each other. But sexually -- Minho likes to either be in control or overwhelmed. There’s no in-between. And Jinki… he’s too methodical, too careful for that. He wants to take care of you. He doesn’t want any of you under even the illusion that he’d ever really hurt you. And that works well for Jonghyunnie or you. Even Tae. But for Minho…”

Jongin bites his lip. “You wouldn’t hurt Minho, though,” he whispers, a little bewildered. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Key says. “But Minho doesn’t need to know that. He sees so much already -- he knows today what’s going to happen on Saturday, and he knows what’s most likely to happen between then and now, and what’s going to lead up to it. I don’t think he lets on, sometimes, how tiring it is to know what’s going to happen and have to constantly choose whether he’s going to make it happen.”

“He likes being in control because it’s familiar, but if you can get him out of that--” Key looks a little distant, a little thoughtful. “There’s two main ways to do it: you can either drive Minho up a wall by giving him something he doesn’t expect, or you can literally just make him focus entirely on the moment, make him stop thinking about what’s most likely.”

Jongin bites his lip. Key knows Minho so well that he’s actually a little jealous. He wants to be that good for Minho.

Like Key read his mind, they smile. “You’ve done it before,” they say. “He looked out of it for hours after you ate him out. I just prefer a different route. It doesn’t matter if he’s most likely to go see a movie on Saturday when I have a knife in my hand and I could change that on a whim if I really wanted. I wouldn’t, but it’s hard to think about anything else.”

Jongin would agree with that. When he and Jinki tried it, Jongin had been very focused on the knife. But Jinki had kept him calm the whole time, pressing emotions into him, showing him how loved and wanted he was. Key doesn’t have that ability. Without that, Minho wouldn’t be constantly reassured. Without that, Jongin imagines the knife would seem more looming, more scary.

He shivers bodily and wonders how different it would be, to be under Key instead of Jinki.

“And… and you just…” Jongin’s mouth feels a little dry. “Why do… I mean, why do you do it, if you’re not like -- I mean, I know why Jinki does it, but…”

Key’s smile spreads, suddenly a little sharp, and they step into Jongin’s space, flush against his front, lifting their other hand. There’s blood smeared over their palm, the cut visible in the middle, but that doesn’t stop them from pressing it to Jongin’s jaw. “Jinki told you that blood is power, right? When you cut someone, they bleed. I can feel that. Every bit of it… it’s a rush.”

Jongin is hit with a sudden sense of realization, hot and a little terrifying, pooling in Jongin’s stomach like a threat. He’s annoyed at the way it makes his co*ck twitch, the way he knows Key can feel it by the way they laugh.

“You’re so easy, Jonginnie,” Key whispers, and Jongin whimpers softly. “I tell you what I like, what I want, and you’re ready to go to your knees right now for me.”

Jongin shivers, trying to protest, but Key isn’t wrong. He… he wants. Not the fear, but… but for Key to take. To be good for Key. And he knows Key wouldn’t hurt him any more than Jinki would, he knows it.

But it doesn’t feel that way when Key balls their hand into a fist, blood welling up around their fingertips. “Drink,” they say, holding it to Jongin’s mouth. “Just a taste.”

Jongin feels his stomach churn, but he licks up a tiny bit and then gasps. The taste is awful, harsh and metal, but he can feel the buzz of magic in it, the way it makes everything him him jolt all at once, a subtle buzz of pleasure zipping through all his nerves at once.

“Oh,” he breathes, and Key laughs. “I don’t even have to drink it. I think it’s because I’m attuned to potions. I get that touching it. Being near it. Drinking it is just a perk, just makes it better.”

“Better?” Jongin asks dazedly.

Key nods. “Do you want me to show you?”

And Key is right. Jongin is easy.

Key doesn’t even try to pretense it like Jinki does. They find their already bloodstained knife and cut, firm and even into Jongin’s collarbone.

Jongin shouts loudly, startled and a little in pain, but then Key pushes their hand over Jongin’s mouth to quiet him, blood smearing over his lips, and Jongin feels that buzz again, that pleasant high. Key’s other fingers wipe blood off of Jongin’s chest, finding their own mouth, and they slide them into their own mouth, moaning low in their throat.

Jongin tries to whine, but Key’s hand is in the way, muffling him. Jongin shudders, taking half a step backwards, not to get out of Key’s space but so that his back is against something supportive for the moment when Key’s mouth closes around his cut and they lick, tongue pressing into the wound.

Jongin’s whole body spasms, knees buckling and hips lurching, bucking his co*ck into Key’s hip, and he tears up because it hurts, so much worse than Jinki has ever, but Jongin can’t stop wanting, the blood in his mouth sending tingles through him and the feeling of Key pressing him back easily, so in control despite their size. It’s all dizzying, and Jongin gasps for breath, trying to remember how to get air into his system.

Key shushes him insincerely. “So easy for me,” they tease, and then pull away.

Jongin slumps weakly, letting out a whine of confusion.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Key says. “That’s not your thing, we both know it.”

“But I…” Jongin starts, reaching for Key, and then lets his arm fall. Key’s right. That doesn’t mean Jongin has to like it though, and he’s very clearly pouting, letting out a noisy breath.

“Not fair,” he breathes. “Key, please--”

“Come here,” Key says. “So needy, really.”

Key doesn’t even touch him. They just wrap their hand over his mouth again and pull his co*ck flush with their hip, a grin settled on their lips.

“Be a good boy,” they murmur, and press a gently kiss to the skin right where they cut. Jongin gasps and does as he’s told, rutting against Key’s hip. Key laughs. “Maybe next time Jinki cuts you, you can let me play, hm?”

And if Jongin lets out a pathetic squeak and comes from that promise alone, that’s just between them.

But when Jinki pulls out the knives next time and Key slips into the room to join them, Jinki is the only one who’s surprised at all.

Chapter 19: Scintilla

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

The first time the word slips out is long before their coven is fully made. It’s just Jinki and Key and now Jonghyun; Key is nice, and Jonghyun likes them well enough even if he’s still shy around them, but Jinki. Jinki is warm and big and sweet, and he makes Jonghyun feel small and fuzzy and floaty simply by being in the same room. It’s kind of a crush, but it’s also just how safe Jinki makes him feel.

And yeah, he’s pretty new to being in a coven, but he does know that he wants this to work, and not just for the coven. And maybe he’s a little obvious about his crush, because Jinki always gives him fond looks and lingering touches that make Jonghyun’s heart stutter in his chest. He doesn’t really mind though, looks forward to them even.

It takes a while for him to tell Jinki how he feels though, and even then, Jonghyun just ends up blurting out a confession over dinner, just a simple I like you that makes Key roll their eyes (even if they’re smiling) and that makes Jinki gives Jonghyun the most fond smile before saying, “I know.”

But it’s not mocking, and when Jinki laughs, Jonghyun can feel - really feel - that it’s he’s not laughing at him, not really. It’s just fond, enamoured.

“Jonghyunnie, I’m an empath, remember? I’ve known for so long now.”

Jonghyun just whines and covers his face with his hands, both to hide the blush on his cheeks and the smile on his lips.

They kiss later that night, and that’s when Jonghyun says it.

Key excuses themself as soon as they finish eating, mumbling an excuse about potions and spells that need to be done, and they flash Jonghyun a little smile as they go. And that leaves just Jinki and Jonghyun left glancing up at each other over their finished plates. It makes Jonghyun giggle each time their gazes meet, and the fondness in Jinki’s smile is clouding the room and making Jonghyun feel giddy and melty and soft.

“You’re adorable, Jonghyunnie.”

Jonghyun feels a wave of warmth wash over him then, and when he looks up at Jinki, he’s smiling still. “That’s how you make me feel, Jonghyunnie.”

Oh. Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat, and there’s so much he wants to say, but he doesn’t have to, because Jinki can feel what he means, and that’s so much more raw and real than any words he could say.

“Are you finished?” Jinki asks then, and Jonghyun glances down at his plate, mostly emptied. He thinks for a moment, then nods and follows Jinki to the kitchen. Their sudden closeness in the quiet of the room makes his heart thud in his chest, and sure, they’ve been close before, but it’s different now.

They’re washing their dishes now, and Jinki’s hand brushes against Jonghyun’s in the water, lingering for a long moment before he pulls away, a soft smile flirting with his lips when Jonghyun glances up at him. And it’s so hard to ask, but he has to, “Jinki, I...what are we?”

“What do you want us to be?”

“Can’t you tell?” And by Jinki’s enamoured smile, he can.

“I want that too, Jonghyunnie. I...can I kiss you?”

Jonghyun’s heart stutters in his chest and he nods, biting his lip when Jinki draws closer. His hand is warm and damp from the sink water, and when Jinki places his other hand on Jonghyun’s hip, the warmth of his hand seeps through Jonghyun’s shirt. It’s nice, and Jonghyun feels warm and melty inside and out, and Jinki hasn’t even kissed him yet.

"Jonghyunnie, are you sure..." and then Jinki stops himself, a laugh bubbling up on his lips. "No, never mind. You're sure. I can feel it. You're so cute."

"Is that bad?" Jonghyun asks, suddenly unsure. And yeah, it's good that Jinki knows, that he has that certainty, but Jonghyun...doesn't. He's not sure if he wants to though, because this...this is all too good to be true. Jinki is so perfect, and-

"Jonghyun, no...I like you. Completely, I really do. Don't doubt that, okay? I like you."

"Say it again?" Jonghyun asks, and even though he'd meant it to come out strong, his voice is barely a whisper, soft and uncertain.

"I like you, Jonghyun." And with that said, and before any more doubt can come to Jonghyun’s mind, Jinki tugs him close and kisses him, chaste and gentle and sweet. And it’s nice, it’s soft, it’s everything Jonghyun could have ever wanted and more.

When Jinki pulls back, he’s still smiling, and his hands press warmth and love and affection into Jonghyun’s whole body. “I like you a lot, Jonghyunnie.”

“I like you too, Jinki. I...I like you a lot too.”

Jinki’s smile only grows and so does the warmth flooding into Jonghyun’s body; enough so that his breath catches in his throat as he collapses into Jinki. “I...Jinki-”

“Yes, Jonghyunnie?”

“Just…”

“You want something, Jonghyunnie. What is it?”

“Wanna call you something. Embarrassing though-”

“Tell me, baby.”

“Wanna call you daddy,” Jonghyun whispers. “You make me feel really soft and I…I just wanna call you that. Please?”

“Of course you can, baby. Be good for me.” And there’s a flash of heat, of something that makes Jonghyun’s legs buckle and a soft noise fall from his lips.

“I...daddy, I-”

“Good boy,” Jinki murmurs, and now there’s pride mixed into that heat, and it’s so much that Jonghyun can’t help whining again.

“Jinki-”

“Hm?”

“Daddy.”

“Good boy, Jonghyunnie. Very proud of you.”

“Why do you keep saying…?”

“Because you’re good for me, aren’t you? You’re a good boy for me, Jonghyunnie. Right?”

“Wanna be good, daddy. Please?”

“You’re already good, baby. So good for me.” And there’s more heat with each word, more heat and more desire and more pride, and Jonghyun grips Jinki’s shirt sleeves, burying his face in his neck and whining.

“Jonghyunnie, are you gonna come for me?”

And that makes Jonghyun jerk back, because he’s not going to come, except when Jonghyun moves away from Jinki, the heat fades and he realizes how hard he is, how close he is, and then Jinki laughs and brushes his hair away from his face before murmuring, “Come for me, baby boy.”

And Jonghyun does, with Jinki’s name on his lips, and Jinki’s arms holding him tight.

Chapter 20: Odos

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Jongin likes being a dog. There are a few downsides, of course: lack of communication, being sh*t at reaching things, and a complete lack of opposable thumbs. All bad things. But there are perks too. He hears better, smells better, and people are even more free with their affection.

Which means that at times like this, being a dog is the best thing. It’s fairly early, enough that when Minho had woken him on his way out the door, Jongin hadn’t budged, but now that an hour or so has passed and he’s more awake, he’s all too aware of the familiar sound of feet up the front walk. Jongin perks up. He can smell him even from here, not well, but enough to know that it’s Minho and that Minho will love him and pet him and pay attention to him.

Jongin bounds off the couch, and maybe it’s stereotypical of him, but he rushes the front hall, running in circles and barking once or twice in a playful way, trying to get Minho to hurry up. The steps pause and he hears the low sound of Minho’s laughter, warm and pleasant, and Jongin wriggles in place, tail wagging and ears perked and he’s so excited.

The door pushes open and Jongin jumps forward, barrelling into Minho at top speed. And he means, entirely, to just jump on him and get attention, but instead he gets a sudden and full flood of Minho into his senses.

Minho’s been running, clearly -- he’s wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt and he’s sweaty all over and Jongin can smell him, musty and earthy and-- god.

If Jongin were human right now he’d moan. Minho smells basically like sex, and he hasn’t even been doing anything, but Jongin is struck with the urge to change that. Instead, he whines, licking Minho’s hand, and then tumbles off of him, skittering a little away.

Minho laughs. “Good morning to you too,” he says and reaches down, ruffling his fur with both hands, arms stretched out in front of him and smelling so strongly of sweat and heat and musk, and Jongin whines, torn between pushing into Minho’s touch and tugging away from the sensation.

But of course, this is Minho. Selfless, ridiculous, perfect Minho, who asks, “Jonginnie?” and kneels closer, worry furrowing his brow and getting closer, overwhelming Jongin.

With a shudder, Jongin shifts, crumpling into human shape and stumbling a little, half-tripping. Minho catches him easily, one arm going around Jongin’s waist and the other bent up, cupping Jongin’s face. “Jongin, are you okay?”

“I’m-- I’m fine,” Jongin says, and his voice is a little strained. Dog or not, he can still smell it. It’s not getting better, and worse, like this, the effect it’s having on him is obvious. Jongin is hard, and there’s no way that Minho doesn’t feel it as he pulls Jongin in. Jongin’s face is burning. “I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m-- yeah.”

Minho pauses, just for a moment, and then he grins. “Yeah?” he repeats, arm tightening just enough to bring Jongin closer. “Jonginnie, do you want to talk about it?”

Jongin takes a low, shuddering breath, carefully through his mouth. “I-- it’s nothing. You just… you smell nice. And it’s… I have a strong sense of smell, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Minho asks, and his hand falls from Jongin’s cheek, down between them, fingers ghosting over the outline of Jongin’s dick through his pants. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t--” Jongin’s face is so hot now, and he buries it in Minho’s neck to hide. It’s a mistake. He’s breathing Minho in now, so close, so much, and Jongin can’t hold back the low groan he lets out. His dick twitches against Minho’s fingers.

“Don’t what?” Minho asks, so softly that it’s almost not teasing. Almost, but not quite.

Jongin whines into Minho’s throat, shifting slightly. “Don’t tease me, I just-- I want…” He pulls back, just enough to lick his lips. “I… please.”

Minho grins. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and that’s entirely teasing, enough that Jongin whines and pushes weakly against his shoulder. Minho catches at his hand, pulling him in. “What do you want?”

Jongin shivers. “Couch,” he says, and pushes Minho back until he relents, following him forward on his knees. Minho sits, legs apart, and Jongin catches at his knees, leaning in, and he’s still-- he’s human now and it’s not as overwhelming, but it’s still so much, and Jongin wants so badly.

“Shorts,” Jongin demands, tugging, and Minho lifts his hips off the couch to let him.

Jongin suck in a startled breath and then moans openly, the smell fogging his brain and making heat swirl in his gut. He doesn’t even try to pretend, nosing into Minho’s inner thigh. Minho’s co*ck is half hard in front of him, and Jongin feels dizzy.

They say that smell is half of flavor, and Jongin can already imagine Minho’s co*ck in his mouth, already practically taste it. He leans down, lapping at the tip and moaning softly.

“Good?” Minho asks, and Jongin nods jerkily, fingers digging into Minho’s legs as he leans in. Minho sighs softly. “Jonginnie, you just gonna smell me all day?”

Jongin whines. “Shut up,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “No, I’m just--”

Minho hums quietly, and then he shifts, voice full of intent as he sighs, “Be good and suck me off?”

Jongin whines. “Yeah,” he breathes, and does as he’s told, taking Minho in his mouth. He goes slow at first, just the tip, but it doesn’t take long before Minho’s co*ck is brushing the back of his throat with every bob, until Minho is making little noises of pleasure that increase in frequency as Jongin sucks his co*ck properly, hollowing his cheeks and taking him down to the base, Minho’s co*ck filling his throat and cutting off his air.

Jongin pulls back, just enough to suck in a desperate gulp of air and then pushes back down, f*cking his mouth on Minho’s co*ck, deeper and deeper. He can’t think straight, and he has to breathe through his nose now, has to keep taking in Minho’s scent, and he’s so weak, so turned on just from this.

He sucks hard, reaching down to palm his co*ck, and Minho lets out a soft laugh that runs into a moan part way through. “f*ck, you’re so good. Jonginnie…”

Jongin pulls back, gasping for a breath that doesn’t make him feel quite so dizzy. “Minho,” he whines. “Minho, I--”

“I wanna come down your throat. Jongin--”

“Yes, god,” Jongin whines, and dips back down. Minho’s close now, and so is Jongin, and he strokes his co*ck faster as he bobs his head, trying so hard to make Minho come, needing so badly.

“Jongin,” Minho gasps, a quiet warning, and Jongin pulls back just enough that when Minho’s co*ck pulses, his come fills Jongin’s mouth, salty and thick and exactly what Jongin had imagined from the moment he smelled Minho.

Jongin swallows it, and a small part of him is almost upset because he wants more. But the rest of him wants something else entirely, and he whines as he clambers off the floor and into Minho’s lap, panting. He’s too big for this, but it doesn’t stop him from curling himself in, burying his face in Minho’s shoulder. He’s still gasping, still overwhelmed, and he can’t even speak, just whines pathetically until Minho understands.

Minho’s hand slides inside Jongin’s pants, wrapping around his co*ck, and Jongin writhes in his lap, dragging in long heavy breaths and whining helplessly.

“Min--ah, nn, f*ck,” Jongin stutters, butchering any attempt at words, but Minho only laughs.

“Come for me, Jonginnie?’ Minho asks, and Jongin takes a deep breath through his nose, Minho’s scent washing through him one more time, and then he’s coming, panting against Minho’s throat and collapsing into him. Minho strokes his free hand down his spine. “Good boy. You’re so good, Jonginnie.”

Jongin tries to laugh, but he’s still breathless, still trembling. It takes him a long moment to manage, “Shower?”

Minho laughs. “I could just stay like this, if this is the treatment it gets me.”

Jongin is too flushed from exertion to blush properly, but he pushes weakly off of Minho. “No,” he whines. “Shower. I just came in my pants and I need one and I don’t think I can walk right now.”

“Oh,” Minho says, and then he’s laughing, pressing a kiss to Jongin’s lips. “Okay, come on.”

And maybe it’s just an excuse to have Minho carry him, but Jongin clings to Minho’s back, feeling soft and loved and so, so good.

Chapter 21: Ephemeral

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Jonghyun wanders out into the living room, mind fuzzy and limbs trembly. Key is picking at a croissant and scrolling through something on their laptop, and Jonghyun leans into them, breathing them in and mumbling out a sleepy greeting.

“Jonghyunnie, eat.” And it’s not a an option, so Jonghyun just untucks his face from Key’s neck and opens his mouth for Key to press a tiny bite of food into. It’s warm still, buttery and soft, and Jonghyun hums and makes a whiny noise for more.

“Words, Jonghyunnie.” But Key’s voice is fond, and they rip off half of what’s left of their croissant to feed to Jonghyun. The other half goes into their mouth, and if Jonghyun is pouting because of that, Key doesn’t have to know.

“Thanks, Bummie.” Jonghyun mumbles, nosing back into their neck and staying there.

“Come on, baby,” Key starts, and when Jonghyun peels himself away, they get up from their seat and lead him to the couch.

And being in their lap like this, with their hands warm and firm and big against his hips makes Jonghyun remember his dream, makes him bite his lip and squirm a little. “Bummie? Do you...had a dream.”

“What was your dream about, Jonghyunnie?”

Jonghyun squirms again and shakes his head, knowing that Key will make him tell but still trying to get out of it anyway. And he’s right - Key pinches his side, not enough to hurt, but just enough make him jump. “Tell me, baby boy. Be good.”

“Do you like spanking?”

“Not for me, no.” Key sounds like they’re thinking as they speak, and their fingers tap against Jonghyun’s hips as they hum in thought. “Why, do you like it?”

“I...no, but I had a dream, and…”

“And?” Key prompts. When they reach over to pet over Jonghyun’s co*ck through his shorts, he’s already hard, and they can’t help laughing. “And you liked it in your dream, hm?”

“A little…” Jonghyun whispers. He squirms again, this time up into Key’s hand, and he leans back just enough to nuzzle into their neck. “Bummie, want you to, please.”

“You didn’t tell me your dream though, baby boy.”

Jonghyun’s breath hitches in his throat and he shakes his head, lips pressing against Key’s neck in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. “You were spanking me, and it hurt but it was good hurt, and you kept calling me good, and I wanna be good.”

“You’re always good for me, Jonghyunnie. But is that something you want?”

“I...your hands are so big.”

“You have to tell me yes or no, Jonghyunnie.”

“Yeah, I wanna. Please?”

“Okay, baby boy. Lay down for me.”

Jonghyun nods eagerly, but it takes him a long few moments to unpeel himself from Key’s lap and position himself properly. They’ve never done this, but Jonghyun’s watched things like this with JInki, and he’s...kind of sure that Key has too. The warmth of Key’s hands on the skin of his lower back shocks Jonghyun back to awareness and Key laughs a little under their breath when they peel his shorts down. “These are pretty, Jonghyunnie.”

“I...thank you, Bummie.” The panties (pale purple, soft things) are pretty because Key had bought them for him, and Jonghyun doesn’t say that he changed into them just for this. He’s sure Key knows.

“Do you want them off too?”

“Mm...yeah. Please.”

“Of course, pretty baby.” And it’s kind of strange, not having Jinki there to make him feel how loved and good he is, but this is nice too. And Key’s hands are so warm and big on his bare skin, gentle and soft despite what they’re about to do.

“Bummie, you’ll...stop if I don’t like it, right?”

“Always, Jonghyun.”

“I...I’m just making sure. That’s all. Know you would, trust you.”

“Good. Good boy.” That said, Key spreads one of their hands over the curve of Jonghyun’s ass, watching as he squirms for just a few moments before bringing their hand back and bringing it down hard - not hard enough to really hurt, just enough for Jonghyun to jump and gasp in shock.

“Jonghyunnie-”

“Again, please.” Jonghyun already sounds breathless, and he’s squirming again, in what is most likely anticipation.

“Good boy,” Key murmurs. They smooth their hand over the spot they’d just hit and Jonghyun shivers, whines. “So good for me, baby boy. And so pretty like this.”

“Want you to...please, Bummie.”

Instead of answering, Key laughs and brings their hand back, hits just a little bit harder for the way Jonghyun whines. Before he can even ask for another one, Key spanks him again, letting their hand linger and stroke at his reddening skin. “Pretty,” they mumble, and it’s mostly to themself, but Jonghyun whimpers when he hears it. When he looks up and over his shoulder at Key, there are tears in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Bummie, please. Want more, please, it’s so good.” When Jonghyun’s hips jerk, it brushes the head of his co*ck against Key’s thigh, and there’s a smear of precome left on their skin, but they don’t really mind. Not if it makes Jonghyun feel good.

“Good boy. Already crying...gonna come soon, hm?”

“Like it a lot. Please just…”

“Use your words, baby boy.”

“Want you to spank me again, I...I’ve been good. Right?”

“So good, baby boy. Always good.”

Jonghyun’s breath hitches in his throat and he nods, eager and anticipating. The head of his co*ck nudges against Key’s leg again and then again, and it must be frustrating with how he can’t get any proper friction, but all Jonghyun does is whine high in his throat and nod eagerly when Key asks if he’d like to come.

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to come, baby boy?”

“Bummie, please.”

Key brings their hand down hard when Jonghyun stops whining, making sure to keep their voice harsh when they say, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes! Please, need it.” Jonghyun is outright sobbing now, and he rubs his face into the couch cushions, smearing tears and drool all over. He wiggles just a bit higher, and when he stops grinding into Key’s leg, his co*ck drips precome on Key’s thigh near constantly.

“Good boy, proud of you for telling me what you want. Be good and come, Jonghyunnie.”

“I can’t,” Jonghyun sobs, and his whole body is tense, as if waiting for some word, some command.

“You can, baby boy.”

Now Jonghyun just shakes his head, and before he can even draw breath to speak, Key winds back and hits hard, hard enough that Jonghyun can whimpers pathetically as his fists clench tight. But that’s it, that was the wordless command he’d needed, and Key ignores the feeling of Jonghyun’s come slicking up their leg to pull him into their lap and hold him close as he trembles.

“You were so good, Jonghyunnie. So good for me.”

Jonghyun nods, and he buries his face in Key’s chest, breaths shuddering and shallow. “I...I liked that. A lot.”

“I know, baby boy.” But Key relaxes, some little fear in the back of their mind quenched. “I’m glad you did.”

Jonghyun nods again and noses into Key’s throat, still trembling but voice steady now when he says, “Like you lots.”

“I know that too, baby. And I like you too. Lots and lots.”

“Good.” Jonghyun wiggles in place and fumbles for Key’s hand, holding it tight and closing his eyes. “Night night?”

“How about we clean up first, hm? And then we can go to bed, and we’ll be nice and clean.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Then how about you get into bed, and I’ll be right there?”

“No! Stay!”

“Such a brat,” Key murmurs, and it’s mostly for themself, but Jonghyun peeps up at them and pouts, showing off his lips in a way that makes Key roll their eyes, full of fondness. “It’s cute, Jonghyunnie. You’re cute.”

“Not cute,” Jonghyun mumbles, but he ducks his head back down so Key won’t see his flustered grin.

“Adorable, Jonghyunnie. Come on, up. Do you want another croissant before bed?”

Jonghyun considers, then nods, reluctantly getting up and clinging to Key through the whole walk from the living room back to the kitchen. While Key wets a paper towel to dab at their stained leg, Jonghyun sits on the counter, swinging his legs and pouting almost absently. But then the microwave beeps and Jonghyun jumps down, clearly excited as he pulls out his croissant. He breaks it in two and shuffles over to Key, looking up at them through his lashes as he offers the bigger half to them.

And he’s so cute that Key leans down to kiss his forehead before taking the smaller half. “Come on, Jonghyunnie.”

“Nuh uh! Mad at you!”

“Why, baby boy?”

Jonghyun looks up at Key through his lashes, but he’s pouting still and he’s clearly petulant when he mumbles, “Love me.”

“Love you lots, Jonghyunnie.”

Another flustered smile curves up Jonghyun’s lips and he hides his face with his hands, shaking his head before saying, “Love you too, lots.”

Key’s heart stutters in their chest, just a little, and they’re quick to kiss both of Jonghyun’s cheeks and tug him to their room and tuck him into bed.

And yeah, they have a self-made rule against no eating in bed, but Jonghyun is so cute that Key thinks they can break their rule, just this once.

Chapter 22: Illecebrous

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“I’m mad at you,” Jonghyun announces one day over lunch. It’s just him, Minho and Jinki, although the statement is directed at Minho, Jinki looks up with a wry grin on his lips and fondness in his eyes.

“You’re not mad at all, Jonghyunnie,” Jinki says, and Minho smothers his grin behind his hand when Jonghyun’s pout deepens.

“I am! Mad at Minho, super mad!”

Jinki’s matching the grin that Minho is trying so desperately to hide, fond and amused and enamoured all at once, and Minho doesn’t know if it’s on purpose or not, but the amount of love that Jinki is putting out makes Jonghyun whine and hide his face.

“Why are you mad at me, Jonghyunnie?” he finally asks, if only to get Jonghyun to speak, pouty and petulant and adorable.

“You’re mean.”

“And how am I mean?”

Jonghyun’s pout deepens and he shakes his head. “Not telling.”

But now, when Minho glances over to share a grin with Jinki, he sees Jinki frowning a little, mostly to himself. “I’m...going to go,” he says, and now he looks up and over at Minho as he pushes a wave of sadness at him. It takes a moment, but it’s easy for Minho to connect the dots, and when Jinki leaves, he turns to Jonghyun, frowning as well.

“Jonghyunnie, are you okay? Really.”

“Mad at you, Minho.”

“Babe...tell me what’s wrong. I won’t be mad, promise.”

“I’m...it’s nothing. Really, just...I’m fine. Love me?”

“I love you lots, baby boy. Love you so much. I adore you.”

Jonghyun’s lips push out in a pout and he shakes his head, looking down. “I…”

“Jonghyunnie? Baby, can you look at me?”

“Nuh uh,” Jonghyun mumbles, and he shakes his head fiercely, even though his voice shakes. He doesn’t fight Minho’s touch when he lifts his head, and Minho’s heart falls when he sees the tears in Jonghyun’s eyes and the way he’s so desperately trying to hold them back.

“Jonghyun, baby...please tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

“Just…been with Jongin so much, and...missed you.”

“Baby, baby no. Jonghyunnie, I...I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. I love you very much, okay, baby?”

“I...yeah, just…” Jonghyun shrugs a little, glances up at Minho through his lashes and bites his lip. It’s not sexual, not at all, just a nervous action, and he squirms a little before asking, “Can I...wanna sit in your lap.”

“Of course you can, baby. Come here.” Minho opens his arms, and Jonghyun all but falls into him, burying his face in his neck and sniffling pathetically.

“Missed you, Minho. Missed you lots and lots.”

“Love you lots, baby. And I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you. I love you so much. And you know that, right?”

It takes a moment, but Jonghyun nods into Minho’s throat, lips brushing soft and plush against his skin. “Love you too.”

“Jonghyunnie, come on, let’s go. Do you want a shower or a bath, baby?”

“Bath, please. I...if you wanna.”

“Want you to be happy, that’s all. My good baby boy.”

Jonghyun nods a little, letting Minho scoop him up easy as breathing and carry him to the bathroom. “Do you want bubbles, hm?”

“Please,” Jonghyun whispers, and Minho nods, pouring in a generous amount of bubbles into the hot bathwater. He’s sure to be extra gentle when he undresses Jonghyun, and he kisses Jonghyun’s forehead, cheeks, lips while he waits for the tub to fill. When it does, Minho undresses himself, then picks Jonghyun up and gently, gently deposits him in the warm water. Minho is soon to follow, seating himself behind Jonghyun and pressing close.

“Jonghyunnie, baby. Love you lots. Okay?”

“Yeah, just...missed you. That’s all. Like having your attention, and...just like you. Like you lots.”

“I like you too, Jonghyunnie. Just...forgot how needy you can be.” Minho presses his lips to the back of Jonghyun’s neck, mostly just for skin to skin contact and partially to consider his words. “I just...Jonginnie is just like you, Jonghyunnie. I thought you were fine with Jinki and Tae, and I just...I slipped up. I’m sorry, Jonghyunnie.”

“Am fine with them, just...you too. And...Jonginnie, he’s...he’s...would feel weird with him. He’s Tae’s, and...I dunno. Just...weird.” But now at least, Jonghyun’s voice has stopped trembling, and he’s more relaxed now, even playing with the bubbles a little.

“But you’d be so pretty together...two pretty puppies.”

At that, Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat, and he nods a little, leaning back into Minho’s chest and nosing into him, just a little. “I...yeah, maybe. I...I’d just want to be good?” And it’s not a question, but Jonghyun’s voice tilts up at the end like it is, and Minho laughs a little.

“Already good, baby boy. So good for me already. And you haven’t even done anything yet...pretty baby boy.”

The tiny noise Jonghyun makes, the idea of Jonghyun and Jongin together, the way Jonghyun is squirming, all of it makes Minho’s co*ck harden and his hands tighten around Jonghyun’s waist. “Do you want to be good for me now?”

“Please, I...Minho, wanna. I wanna be good for you, please.”

When Minho reaches around, he can feel that Jonghyun is already hard as well, just from being told how good he is, how pretty. “God, you’re good.”

Another high noise in the back of his throat, and Jonghyun nods, nosing up for a kiss that Minho easily gives. And it’s not a chaste kiss, not at all - Jonghyun’s lips are swollen and spit-shiny when he finally pulls away, and he turns around to sit in Minho’s lap, breaths coming quick and shallow as he grinds into Minho, needy already.

“Pretty, baby boy. God, miss your mouth. Miss your mouth on my co*ck, baby boy. You’d both look so pretty for me, my baby boys, my pretty puppies.”

“Ah, please. I wanna, wanna be good, please daddy, just…”

“Just what, hm? Tell daddy what you want.”

Jonghyun’s breath catches and he whimpers, shaking his head and biting his lip. “Wanna play with you and Jongin. I wanna be good for you both.”

“You will be, Jonghyunnie. Gonna be good and suck me off, hm?”

“But...what about Jongin?”

“He’s going to suck me too, and you’re both going to look so pretty. Wanna see you both on your knees for me. My good baby boys.” And Minho doesn’t even have to do anything, doesn’t have to order Jonghyun to come or touch him, because at those words, just those few words make Jonghyun gasp and come between them, streaking up Minho’s stomach and almost immediately leaning down to press his lips to the stains on Minho’s chest, whimpers already falling from his lips,

Chapter 23: Ignotum

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

The club is loud, almost overwhelmingly so. Walking in the door is like walking into bubble of sound, and Jongin visibly winces, lifting a hand towards his ears instinctively. Jinki wraps a gentle arm around his waist.

Jonghyun is halfway clinging to Minho, like he has been for the last week or so. He’s snuggled up against him, and Jongin doesn’t resent that. They have been spending a lot of time together lately, and Jongin knows that Minho isn’t all his. He doesn’t begrudge Jonghyun wanting some time with Minho. Especially when Jinki’s arm is wound around Jongin’s waist and that would be insanely hypocritical.

“Do you want a drink?” Jinki murmurs, voice close to Jongin’s ear. Jongin nods quickly, letting Jinki pull him towards the bar. Minho and Jonghyun follow.

The bar is in the back half of the room, and Taemin and Key are already there, Taemin throwing back another shot as Key laughs and takes a sip of something mint-green.

When they arrive, Key offers their drink to Jonghyun who takes a sip and makes a delighted noise. “It’s good!”

“You can have it, Jonghyunnie,” Key says, and flags down the bartender.

Taemin grins as the bartender approaches, flicking a glance to Jinki. “Shots?”

Jinki nods, and then looks around, taking notes before leaning past Taemin to give their order. Jongin isn’t even paying attention, but when the glasses arrive, there’s far too many, and Jinki presses not one but two into his palms.

“Taemin started without us,” he says, a laugh in his voice. Jongin knows he’s allowed to refuse, but he doesn’t. Instead he nods and throws them back, one after another, whining at the burn in his throat. Jinki laughs and kisses it off his lips before turning to Taemin, leaning in to kiss him as well. “How long have you two been here, then?”

Taemin laughs. “Not long. Maybe 20 minutes?”

Minho hums. “So you’re very ahead,” he says, and tosses back his second shot, gently shushing Jonghyun, who’s starting to whine about only having been one shot to everyone else’s two. “Taeminnie only had one too, baby, and you already have a drink.”

It’s probably not a good idea to get Jonghyun too drunk, and he’s such a lightweight, they all know, to the point where even he doesn’t try to whine too hard, instead giving in when Taemin tugs at his sleeve and invites him to dance.

Key rolls their eyes and joins them easy, letting Jongin, Jinki, and Minho each order a few more drinks to catch up. By the time Jongin moves to the dance floor, he’s pleasantly buzzed, and he finds the rest of the coven with little effort. Jonghyun breaks off from Taemin for a moment, latching onto Jongin and whining for a dance, and Jongin thinks that means he’s been forgiven for accidentally monopolizing Minho’s time, or else Jonghyun just wants to dance with someone that much taller than him. Possibly both.

It’s not much of dancing either. The club they’re in is all lights and bass and dancing is more like grinding to the music, Jonghyun shameless in his ploys for attention. Jongin can’t blame him. His head is fuzzy and there are warm bodies all around him, and he can hear himself laugh, feel the smile on his face as he curves his hands around Jonghyun’s waist, high enough to be innocent despite the amount of sexuality that practically exudes from the crowd.

Jonghyun leans back into him, and there’s something like a flush on his face, some thought clearly bouncing around in his mind, but after a moment he shivers and pulls away instead, looking around. Jinki and Minho have both found them now, and Key is trying to coax Jinki into actually dancing with them. Taemin has disappeared, back to the bar if Jongin had to guess.

Jonghyun returns to Minho to cling, and Jongin leans towards Jinki and Key, yelling to be heard over the music. “Bathroom!”

Jinki nods, and Jongin slips through the crowd. He doesn’t actually need to pee. He just wants a moment to calm down, to get his head together and be away from the overwhelming crush of people. But it’s cold outside and he doesn’t really want to deal with that, so the bathroom is a good enough excuse as any.

He finds it easily, tucked away in a corner. It’s kind of a dingy bathroom -- the trashcan is a little over-full, and the mirror has the smudges of handprints -- but it’s clean. There’s nothing gross on the floor and the toilets are actually immaculate. Jongin slips into one of the stalls, locking it behind himself for some privacy, and just leans against the wall, his elbow knocking gracelessly against the divider.

He hears a little shuffling in the one next to him at the sound, and thinks about apologizing, but it doesn’t matter much. Instead he just takes a few slow, deep breaths, tipping his head back and looking up at the ceiling.

But the shuffling doesn’t stop, and after a moment, Jongin pulls away from the divider and turns to look only to see -- oh.

There’s a hole in the wall of the stall, a few inches below waist height, and Jongin knows what it’s for. It’s just surprising to see fingers peeking through the hole, index and middle, and Jongin swallows tightly.

He knows well that he should just go back out, find his coven, but… but somehow, there’s a thrill that runs through him, a passing thought of what it would be like. It feels dirty, more than a little wrong, but… but something clenches, tight and hot in his stomach.

Slowly, hesitantly, he drops to his knees and leans forward. There’s a moment, staring at the fingers in front of him, that he almost gets up and leaves. Just a moment. And then the fingers curl a little, just a twitch of motion, and it feels like an invitation, like someone beckoning to him, and Jongin exhales slowly and leans forward, pressing his lips to the very tip of the fingers in a soft kiss.

He hears a gasp, a startled intake of breath, from the other side of the wall, and he jerks a little, eyes flickering up instinctively towards where someone’s face would be, but there’s, of course, nothing. Jongin pulls back, just a little. The fingers twitch back and then, a moment later, push forward, further onto Jongin’s side. There’s a pause, a beat or two, and then Jongin leans in, wrapping his mouth around the fingertips, and sucks.

He hears a gasp again, and then there are fingers pushing into his mouth, pressing flat against his tongue. They taste like alcohol and maybe sweat, but they aren’t bad, and Jongin doesn’t mind so much, just relaxes into the feeling, a buzz going through him, more like magic than alcohol as he traces his tongue around the fingertips when they pull far enough back.

His face is warm, and he feels his co*ck stirring in his pants, the thrill and the sensation getting to him, and he’s about to reach down and touch himself when the fingers pull away, retreating back through the hole. Jongin whines without meaning to, a short, high sound that sounds more desperate than he really should, almost unlike himself.

It makes him flush. He’s not sure what he’s doing. He should just go. He should just stand up and go back to the others. But trying to get his feet back under him is a task, and before he manages, he hears the distinctive sound of a button, of pants being unzipped, and the rustle of fabric, all denim. He sucks in an anxious breath, and then there’s something else being pushed through the hole, something thicker than fingers, and Jongin feels himself go slack, his head spinning a little.

There’s too much to process here, so many things that are so very wrong about this situation, and it would help if Jongin felt it. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel anxious or afraid. He feels almost safe in that strange way, the one that itches at the back of his senses like magic, like canine instinct, and Jongin feels like he would know if this were really bad, if this were really a threat. He’s not positive, but he feels like it.

He reaches forward tentatively, with his hand first, circling it around the co*ck pushing through the hole. There’s a momentary falter, a jerk of hips that pulls it fractionally out of his grasp, and then there’s a low sigh and whoever is on the other side is f*cking his hips forward, pushing his co*ck more fully into Jongin’s touch.

Jongin bites back a tight whimper of need, biting down on his lower lip, and then just… goes for it.

He leans in, licking the very tip of the man’s co*ck, dipping his tongue into the slit, and the moan he gets is startled and choked. Jongin feels a burst of warmth and some sense of something underneath that feels like familiarity, almost, like a recognition. He can’t place it, where it’s coming from or what it means, but he does know that he gets it again when he leans forward, taking the tip of the co*ck into his mouth and sucking, cheeks hollowing slightly as he bobs.

There’s a jerk, a noisy thud as the man hits the wall, and the co*ck slides half an inch deeper into Jongin’s mouth, but past that… there’s a barrier here, something that gives Jongin the control. A very small part of him wishes that weren’t true, that that barrier was gone.

He knows what he likes, what he wants, and he slips off, licking the tip of the man’s co*ck, and fisting it, his thumb catching just under the bottom of the head. He can hear muffled moans, soft throaty noises, all of them cut off and stifled like the man has something in his mouth, and Jongin shifts a little, slightly disappointed. He wants to hear. He wants to know he’s making this person -- this stranger -- feel good.

He whines, opening his mouth, and then he’s dipping down, sliding his mouth onto the man’s co*ck. His fingers form a loose circle near the base, where he would touch the wall otherwise, because he doesn’t really want to have his mouth against a bathroom stall, even though that’s probably not him having his priorities in the right order.

But he slides down, open-mouthed, all the way to the circle of his fingers, and he feels on the verge of gagging, mouth full, but he manages to close his mouth and suck once before he opens it again, pulling back just enough to breathe before leaning back in, lips against his fingers, waiting. It takes a moment of waiting, of Jongin just sitting there, before the man seems to get a clue, rocking his hips gently forward into Jongin’s throat.

Jongin makes a tight, high noise, and, god help him, swallows hard around the tip, letting his throat tighten around the co*ck, and god, god. He whimpers, pushing half an inch forward, fingers pinched uncomfortably between his face and the wall, all for the sake of just a little more. The man gives it, hips moving as he starts f*cking Jongin’s mouth, slow at first and then faster, speeding up until Jongin doesn’t have time to breathe, until his head is spinning with more than just alcohol, until he’s whimpering when he can, struggling to get closer with every thrust.

On the other side of the wall he hears a high gasp, and then, “f*ck, I’m gonna--”

And Jongin jerks back, eyes wide and panicked, because he knows that voice. He knows that voice, because it’s one that he hears all day, every day.

And there’s only so much Jongin can do, trying desperately to process, to think, but that doesn’t matter when Jongin hears a desperate groan and suddenly there’s spurts of come landing on his face, his cheeks and lips, and Jongin is collapsing back onto his ass, crumpling against the far wall of the stall and breathing heavily.

After a moment he hears a soft laugh, too familiar, too much. “I didn’t, uh-- thanks. I wasn’t meaning to do that. I just…”

“T-taemin,” Jongin croaks, his throat wrecked, and he hears a sharp, startled gasp.

“No,” Taemin says, shaking his head, and then. “No, I didn’t-- Jongin?”

Jongin whimpers, and then there’s a loud fumbling as Taemin throws open his stall and then he’s pounding on the door of Jongin’s. Jongin huddles into himself for a moment and then, anxiously, reaches up and flips the latch. The door swings open too slowly, like a scene in a movie and then Taemin is looking down at him. Looking down at Jongin with come on his face. With Taemin’s come on his face.

Jongin whimpers again, higher now, more desperate, and Taemin just stares at him for a moment longer before he shakes his head. “Jonginnie, I didn’t-- not if I’d known it was you. I... “

Jongin shakes his head. “Tae, I--” He swallows thickly, his throat hurting. “Tae….”

“I… I didn’t mean…” Taemin says again, and then swallows as well, looking away. “I-- I’ll go get Jinki, he’ll know--”

“No,” Jongin says, and he’s trembling. “I don’t want-- I just… you’re my witch. I just…”

“I… okay.” Taemin sinks down next to Jongin, tentatively wrapping an arm around him. He grabs toilet paper off the roll and dabs gently at Jongin’s face, carefully wiping come away. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He doesn’t sound any more sure of that than Jongin feels.

Chapter 24: Petite

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Jonghyun is small - that much is obvious between the six of them, a running joke that makes Jonghyun either whine, pout, giggle or frown, depending on what mood he’s in. If Key murmurs you’re tiny, Jonghyunnie, they’ll get a whine and pouty lips until they pull him into their lap, and by now, Jinki only has to fit his hands around Jonghyun’s waist and say the word tiny for Jonghyun to fit himself closer, already begging for kisses and touches. If Minho laughs and ruffles Jonghyun’s hair when he can’t reach something as he says, you’re so small, babe, Jonghyun will pout and frown up at Minho until he gets apology kisses pressed to every inch of his face. And now, when Jongin takes up half of Jonghyun’s bed whether he’s in dog form or human form, he always marvels at how small you are, Jonghyunnie, before nuzzling into his neck or shifting so he can lick at Jonghyun’s face until he laughs and complies to Jongin’s wordless demands for pets. But when Taemin says it, it doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing, because Jonghyun will always gasp and wiggle closer, breathy pleas ready to fall from his lips because he wants to be good.

So the corset is kind of a gag gift from all of them to Jonghyun, because he’s so tiny, because he’s so pretty, because he’s so good. And the way Jonghyun blushes and whines and pouts and demands kisses from each of them when he opens the box and sees the corset is almost, almost enough. Almost.

Jinki has a smug grin on his lips and he starts up a chant for Jonghyun to put it on, and when Jonghyun finally does move, he’s met with cheers and praises that make his cheeks flush pink. Taemin stands to follow, mumbling something about helping Jonghyun put it on, and Minho just laughs a little, knowing and pleased. “Have fun, you two.”

Taemin decides to ignore that.

And yeah, Jonghyun is perfectly capable of putting on the corset on his own, but Taemin would never, never pass up a chance like this, to run his fingers against the smooth curve of Jonghyun’s back, to kiss the back of his neck and feel him shudder, to nose against his neck and jawline until Jonghyun twists around and kisses him, unusually shy. The corset is pretty and pale pink, and it makes Jonghyun look so much tiner, softer, sweeter. Or maybe that’s just the soft pout on his lips, the tears already in his eyes, the way he’s looking up at Taemin through his lashes. Maybe it’s the matching pink panties, the sheer thigh highs that make Taemin lose his breath.

And everything’s fine, and he doesn’t touch, because they’re all going to share, make Jonghyun feel so so so good, but now, with Jonghyun just in front of him, with his pretty corset and his pretty panties and his pretty thigh highs, and then he looks over his shoulder and he’s so small that Taemin can’t not touch.

“f*ck, you look so pretty,” Taemin breathes, crowding Jonghyun against the wall and gripping him tight by around his waist. Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and he whimpers, tipping his head back and exposing his throat for Taemin to nose into.

“Tae, I wanna.”

Taemin’s hair tickles against Jonghyun’s jaw when he nods, and instead of teasing like he usually does, his lips press once, twice and again to the column of Jonghyun’s throat. “God, you’re gorgeous, Jonghyunnie. Want you so bad.”

Jonghyun makes another one of those noises, pretty and soft and needy, and he nods. “Please.”

“Please what, baby? Tell me.”

“Want you to…” Jonghyun shifts and shakes his head, biting his lip and glancing up at Taemin through his lashes. “Want you to make me feel good.”

“How, baby boy? Be good.”

“Touch,” Jonghyun whines, “want you to touch me!”

And yeah, Taemin could tease, could make Jonghyun beg and plead and whine, but he looks and sounds so pretty, and Taemin needs. He’s careful when he parts Jonghyun’s legs with one of his own, and it’s too easy to hold Jonghyun against the wall and let him grind against his thigh, the movements of his hips quick and shallow. The short movements match his breaths, and Taemin grips his hips tight, making a displeasured noise at the lack of give, warmth, skin.

“Want this off,” he mumbles, “want to feel you. Tiny waist, Jonghyunnie. You’re so small-”

“Please, please I wanna be good just please take it off!”

“I will, Jonghyunnie. Be good and patient for me, baby boy. Gonna take good care of you.” And yeah, Jonghyun said he’d be patient, but when Taemin runs his hand against the front of the panties, his hips jerk forwards and he sobs when Taemin brings his hand away. “Told you to be patient, didn’t I?”

Jonghyun can’t even do anything but whimper when Taemin tugs his panties down, takes his co*ck in hand, begins to stroke him slow and steady. “Tae,” he keens, “Tae, please.”

“Use your words, Jonghyunnie. Have to use your words if there’s something you want.”

Jonghyun gasps and f*cks his hips forward into Taemin’s hand, reaching out to cling to him as he trembles, trapped between the hallway wall and Taemin’s body. “Want you to f*ck me, please, Tae. Want so bad.”

And now Taemin wants that too, wants Jonghyun spread out and bent over for him right here, wants to hear his whimpers and whines muffled by a fist at his mouth, wants to hold Jonghyun close and feel him tremble and shudder.

“Gonna, Jonghyunnie. Have to be quiet, unless you want everyone to hear.”

“Gonna be good, Tae. Promise, I’ll be good.”

“Know you will, always good for me.” Corset and panties now gone, Taemin touches Jonghyun’s skin reverently, taking time to really feel how soft and smooth and warm and pliant he is, how good and pretty and lovely he is. “Gonna have to wear that more, Jonghyunnie. Makes you even tinier, so pretty. Pretty panties too, baby. Now be good and get on your knees so I can make you feel good, okay?” Even as he speaks, Taemin manhandles Jonghyun to his knees, heat swirling in his stomach at the way Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat, at the pretty picture he makes, at how eager he looks to have Taemin’s hands in his hair and Taemin’s co*ck in his mouth.

“Be a good boy and suck me so I can f*ck you, okay, baby?”

Even before Taemin finishes speaking, Jonghyun is sucking him down all the way, tearing up and whining high in his throat, teary eyes on Taemin all the while.

Chapter 25: Tacenda

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

It’s only been a few days since the whole club incident, and Jongin hasn’t stopped thinking about it since. Hasn’t stopped thinking about how good it’d been to suck Taemin off like that, the soft bursts of magic that ran through his veins and made him almost dizzy, the moans and gasps and his laugh just after. And he’s...he wants to talk about it, wants to make sure he’s not the only one that’s still thinking about this, that’s touching himself to the memory of being used like that. It doesn’t feel quite as dirty anymore, now that they’ve actually done something, but he still...he just wants to know. Wants closure, or to do something like that again, anything. He just wants to be good.

And he’s just...he’s been thinking about it so much now, enough that it’s actually a bother, and he just...he needs to talk to Taemin about it, right now. So he makes up his mind and whimpers a little, nudging Minho’s arm with his nose and whining until Minho pets him, still sleepy but always selfless.

“What’s wrong, Jonginnie? Tell me.”

Jongin shakes his head a little and buries his nose into Minho’s chest, staring up at him with sad eyes that make Minho coo and kiss his forehead. “My poor baby,” he mumbles, “don’t be sad. Everything’s going to turn out okay.”

And Jongin can’t quite tell if Minho is just saying that or if he knows, and he doesn’t bother asking, just peels himself away and hops off the bed, shifting by the door so he can open it. “Gonna...talk to Tae,” he mumbles, “about...yeah.”

Minho hums and when Jongin looks back, he smiles reassuringly. “Go, I’ll be here. And it’ll be okay, Jongin. Trust me.”

And how could Jongin not?

He’s still thinking of what to say while he shuffles down the hall, and Jongin contemplates just going back to Minho and staying in bed with him for the rest of the day, but he doesn’t. He knows Minho won’t be disappointed if he gives up, that he’ll just smile and open his arms for Jongin to fall into, but...he has to do this. He just wants everything to go back to normal, doesn’t like that Taemin shies away from his touch, doesn't like the confused bursts of magic he’s letting out without meaning to. He just wants Taemin back.

And maybe it’s just Jongin being preoccupied with his own thoughts, and maybe it’s because he’s used to it, but when Jongin gets to Taemin’s door, he pushes the door open without knocking, and promptly freezes.

It’s a wonder neither of them hear him: Jonghyun is on his hands and knees with Taemin just behind, and it’s so obvious what they’re doing, why Jonghyun is whining and trembling with effort. Jongin finds a whimper falling from his lips just from the position, from how small Jonghyun looks now, and Taemin. Taemin, with swollen lips and messy hair and so much skin, and he’s known that Taemin has to be good with his hips, but god. He doesn’t know, for a split second, if he’d rather be in Jonghyun’s position or Taemin’s, but then Taemin looks up and straight at him, and he grins before leaning down to whisper something in Jonghyun’s ear that makes him crumple into the sheets, back a harsh curve and face pressed into the blankets. It does near nothing to muffle his noises, but Jongin does not mind, and he can’t help thinking back to Jonghyun pressing close at the club and in the car on the ride home, lips sticky and wet on his neck and hands wandering.

“Can you to touch yourself for me, Jong?” And it’s directed at Jonghyun, but Taemin’s eyes are on Jongin, and his hand is in Jonghyun’s hair to keep him from looking up, so Jongin does, hand slow when it drifts down to slide in his pants.

Taemin lets out a startled burst of magic and f*cks into Jonghyun that much harder, strokes slowing enough to match with Jongin’s, eyes on the hand around his co*ck and then moving back up to look Jongin in the eye. Between them, Jonghyun has wiggled his hand between his body and the sheets, and they’re almost all moving in tandem. Jongin feels connected to them both for that split second, content until Taemin asks, “Do you want to be a good boy for me?”

Jongin nods and Jonghyun gasps out a needy noise of agreement, back curving further when Taemin laughs. “Knew you would...thought about f*cking you all day.”

Jongin actually makes a noise this time, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth even as heat cuts through his body, both from what Taemin said and from the thrill of almost being caught. He grows bold then, tugs his pants down and pulls out his co*ck, legs buckling at the way Taemin’s eyes widen as he sighs out a quiet, “f*ck, you’re pretty.”

Another streak of boldness and Jongin waits for Taemin to watch him, waits to have his full attention before dipping his fingers into the slit of his co*ck and then bringing them to his mouth, sucking the precome from his fingers and swirling his tongue around his fingertips, just a little bit exaggerated. He’s expecting a response, but not the harsh curse that falls from Taemin’s lips, not the way he grips Jonghyun’s hips tight and f*cks into him hard, not the way his head tips back as he moans again.

“Want you to come for me. Be good and come, Jong.”

Jongin nods, short and sharp; he and Jonghyun are still matching Taemin’s pace now, almost feverish and definitely sloppy in their actions. Jonghyun is the first to come, with a throaty groan and Taemin’s name on his lips, and Jongin comes soon just after, covering his mouth still to keep from making too loud a noise. Taemin’s still looking at him, and Jongin brings his come-stained fingers to his mouth, sucking eagerly at them and Taemin curses again, lets out another burst of magic as he comes.

“Good boy,” he mumbles, and when he pulls out of Jonghyun, slow and steady, Jongin’s breath catches in his throat. Taemin’s probably showing off now with the way he strokes himself, slow and teasing, and even though he’s talking to Jonghyun now, his eyes are still on Jongin as he murmurs, “Now be good and suck me clean, baby.”

Jongin feels another flash of heat lick through his stomach, and he scurries from the room before Jonghyun can see him, not bothering to watch the way Jonghyun eagerly scrambles up to be good and do as he’s told.

It’s only when he gets back to Minho’s room does Jongin realize that he hadn’t been able to talk to Taemin, but he doesn’t really mind. He thinks he knows where they stand now, and he’s more than fine with that.

Chapter 26: Arcum

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“Done,” Key says, and watches as Jinki almost startles when Key sets down their last jar of herbs.

He hasn’t been talking much this morning, more distant than normal, and Key suspects that it’s because Jinki can feel the turmoil in the house. There’s something going on, something strange and unsettling, mostly with Taemin and Jongin, but Jonghyun and Minho are close enough to feed off of that, and it’s everything Jinki can do not to get dragged down by the double dose of stress from the others combined with the stress of seeing his loved ones suffering.

Key has already helped Minho, coaxing him down into mindlessness once or twice this week, but there’s just too much going on for Key to worry about all of them. They care, of course, but it’s not like anyone is angry or even actively upset and Key figures that it will work itself out.

In the meantime though, Jinki is strained, stressed, and Key has pulled him into the kitchen under the guise of “helping,” having him stir a potion that really doesn’t need to be stirred quite so often.

It’s probably good it doesn’t, because Jinki keeps losing focus, his hand slowing to a near stop before he shakes himself out of it and resumes. Key hums softly, dumping the handful of herbs they’d taken from the jar into the pot Jinki’s stirring. It immediately starts steaming, putting up a sweet, almost minty smell, and Key smiles and takes the pot from Jinki, pouring it through a strainer into a thermos.

They shake it a few times, palm curled around the edge to gauge the temperature, and then nod. “Give it just a minute and you can drink it.”

Jinki frowns. “What am I drinking?”

“Stress relief potion,” Key answers. “Jinki, I’m not an empath and I can practically feel you overthinking.”

“I’m okay,” Jinki says at once, all denial. “Really, I-- I just want everyone to settle back. I’ll be fine.”

Key snorts. “Neither of us know how long that might take though,” they say, “and if you fall apart, what are we going to do, huh? We all know you’re the glue holding this whole mess together.”

“I’m not going to fall apart,” Jinki says. He doesn’t sound as sure as he really should for so simple a statement. “Really, I’m-- I’m a little stressed, but I’m fine--”

“Jinki,” Key sighs, because Jinki couldn’t even get through that without his voice breaking a little. It’s slight -- barely perceptible, really, but Key has known Jinki most of their life and there are tells in the way Jinki’s hands curl inwards in preparation for fists, in the way he holds himself, pulled up with a hard line in his shoulders that is going to wreck his back within the week, and in a smile is too bright at strange moments, not like he’s remembered something pleasant but like he’s remembered to force himself to fake it.

“I’m okay, Bum,” Jinki says, looking away, not meeting Key’s gaze.

Key scowls at him. “I’m going to help you,” they say decisively.

It would be easy for Jinki to tell them no here, to insist otherwise. Instead Jinki says, “You don’t have to.”

Key lifts an eyebrow. “I’m aware of that. I said I was going to, not that I have to,” they say, and step closer to Jinki. They reach out, brushing a hand through Jinki’s hair lovingly, but their voice is cool when they say, “Get on your knees for me.”

Jinki hesitates, just for a moment, the way he always does at first. It’s not because he doesn’t want it, but Jinki gets hung up easily in the in-between -- he’s so used to being the one in charge, for Jonghyun and Taemin and Jongin, and it’s hard to give up.

But Key doesn’t broker any room for argument, their hand fisting in Jinki’s hair. “What did I say?”

Jinki goes to his knees, not like it was a conscious decision but like they crumpled out from underneath him all at once. He’s held himself together for so long, and Key’s taking away some of that pressure.

“Breathe, Jinki,” they say, hand loosening in his hair, and watch Jinki breathe deep, stable breaths, shoulders rising and falling, rising and falling, but falling a little less each time, that tense line getting worse as Jinki has space to think, to process. Key sighs. “Jinki, you’re not in charge right now. I am.”

Jinki looks up at them and swallows, opening his mouth to say something, and then closes it again, his jaw tight.

Key considers, just for a moment, and then grabs Jinki by the hair again and shoves him downwards. “What did I just say?”

Jinki’s mouth opens in a startled exhale, air driven out of him in shock. It takes him a moment to get it back and then he manages, “You’re in charge.”

“What else?” Key demands, and manages to shove Jinki down far enough that it’s almost awkward for both of them -- Jinki is bent over in front of them, knees under him and most of the way towards a bow. It’s a good look on him, or it would be if Key weren’t bent half-double themself to hold him there. But it’s not about the look. It’s about holding Jinki here, pushing him down out of a space where he has to be in control and letting him relax. “What did I say?”

Jinki’s next breath is thin, almost non-existent, and he barely manages to get enough air to strangle out, “I’m not in charge.”

“That’s right,” Key says, and lets go of Jinki, bending back up before they strain their back. After a moment of thought, they lift one foot from the floor, pressing it into Jinki’s shoulder and pushing carefully, urging him further down. “You’re going to be good and do exactly what you’re told and nothing else.”

Jinki glances up, a flickering hint of something on his face, and Key presses with the bottom of their shoe, making Jinki lurch. Jinki exhales a quiet, “ah,” of sound, some prelude to words, and Key frowns.

“Did I tell you to look at me?” they ask. “Did I tell you to speak? Answer me.”

“No,” Jinki breathes, “I ju--”

He catches himself before he goes on. His answer is over, and Key hadn’t told him to explain, and they both know how this works, even if Jinki is settling into it uneasily, out of practice and still too busy thinking. That won’t do.

“Lick my boot,” Key says, dropping the one on Jinki’s shoulder back to the floor so they can tap the other one gently against Jinki’s chin. Jinki doesn’t even get to look up this time before Key is settling their weight to get their foot back on Jinki’s shoulder and shove. “I didn’t say look, I said lick my boot.”

And they’re clean, thank god -- they’ve only worn them around the house. Key wouldn’t make Jinki do this if that weren’t the case, and they’re still not going to make Jinki lick the bottoms or anything. But Jinki, bless him, doesn’t question. He lowers his head, just the few inches further, and then his lips are brushing Key’s boot, skidding over the top.

It’s more kissing than licking, and Key’s not going to push that, but Jinki does manage a few tentative licks nearer the top where there’s no reason for it not to be spotless. Key aches quietly, yearning to reach down and take Jinki in their arms, and they’re sure Jinki can feel that, because Jinki shudders suddenly.

Key watches him for a moment before nodding. “Crawl,” they instruct, and step away, moving toward the kitchen chairs to take a seat, one foot on the floor and the other propped up in the other chair, just at the edge.

Jinki follows, on hands and knees, a stuttering motion, until he’s in front of Key. His face is pink, his eyes a little uncertain but a lot glazed, and Key nods. “Tell me you like licking my boot.”

Jinki opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “I… I like it,” he manages, slightly stilted still, and then, unbidden, “I like it because you told me to.”

Key hums. That’s technically worth a punishment, but it’s also a cue, Jinki giving them the last of his control, and Key won’t punish that. “Good,” they say again. “Lick it clean then.”

Jinki isn’t as careful this time. He leans into the foot that’s propped up and kisses the shiny surface. And there are plenty of kisses, yes, but he also swipes his tongue over the fake leather, still all on tops and sides, doing exactly what he was told.

His face is pink, his shoulders a little hunched still but his expression open, and Key reaches forward, bending again, and winds their fingers into Jinki’s hair. “Look at me.”

Jinki does. He doesn’t stop licking, but his eyes meet Key’s. His pupils are dark, his expression gone, and Key runs their fingers through to the end of Jinki’s hair, curling around the back of his throat. It’s a tender moment, almost intimate, and then Key exhales. “The other then.”

Jinki drops himself down, bowing in front of Key, and kisses along their boot, mouthing at the soft leather as Key watches. He seems utterly content down there, and it takes a while before he looks up, eyes glassy, and opens his mouth wordlessly.

“Thirsty?” Key asks, and Jinki shrugs. Key hums. “Let’s drink something, hm?”

They get up, going to get water. Jinki doesn’t move, just swaying slightly in place until Key returns with a bottle, uncapping it and pressing it to his lips. Jinki gulps gratefully, drinking half the bottle, and then waits obediently. He doesn’t have to make decisions like this, and that’s why Key is here.

“Come here,” Key urges, guiding Jinki closer until Jinki is between their legs, head resting on one of Key’s knees. Key pets his hair gently. “Breathe.”

Jinki does this time, shoulders rising and falling evenly, the tension all gone. Key is glad for it, for the ability to help Jinki like this, to take away all the pressure and the choices. If that’s what Jinki needs sometimes, Key is happy to provide.

And when Jinki looks up at them and smiles, Key has the feeling it’s because Jinki can feel how truly content they feel in this moment, like this with their oldest and dearest friend.

Chapter 27: Vagary

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

There’s been no customers all day, and while Taemin is perfectly fine with that, Jongin has been fidgeting and pacing and whining to himself all day. He’s been disrupting all of Taemin’s usual napping spots and while Taemin normally wouldn’t care, he can feel the turmoil bubbling up beneath Jongin’s skin, and he just wants to sleep. It can’t be that bad though, because Minho hasn’t come to pick up Jongin or relieve him, so Taemin huffs to himself and shifts before curling up on the pillow strategically placed beneath the front desk. It’s not the best napping spot, not sunny or warm, but it has his soft pillow and it’s safe from wandering eyes and hands and paws, and that’s good enough for him.

At least, until he hears the skitter of Jongin’s nails on the tile, and feels Jongin’s cold nose pushing into his fur as he whines, pitiful and pathetic. Taemin untucks his head from his body and hisses a little at Jongin, not really meaning it, just conveying his annoyance at not being able to nap, but Jongin recoils and whimpers again, eyes sad.

So Taemin gets up and pads over to Jongin, shifting when he’s closer and burying his hands in Jongin’s soft fur. “What’s wrong, Jonginnie? You’ve been moping around for almost two weeks now.”

Jongin whines again, and then he shifts back too, and now he’s close, practically in Taemin’s lap, and he’s only in his boxers. And before, Taemin would’ve just laughed at that because this is why we keep extra clothes in the back, Jonginnie, but now, his breath catches in his throat. Jongin doesn’t say anything for a long few moments, so Taemin doesn’t either, but then Jongin opens his mouth and mumbles, “Last week.”

And there’s so much that he could be referring to, but Taemin knows exactly what it is - how could he not? “Last week?”

“Just…” Jongin whines again, “what was that?”

“I thought you liked it.”

“I did. Just...what now? Are we...did you tell Jonghyun?”

“Yeah, he liked it. He wants...yeah. He wants.”

“But what about you? What do you want?”

Taemin frowns, considers. “I want you. I want to make you feel good. And your mouth…”

Jongin very poorly stifles a whimper, nodding even though no question has been phrased. “I...I thought about it a lot. Just...you. It’s...you’re my witch, and that should be weird but it’s not anymore, and I wanna…”

“You want me to f*ck you.”

Jongin’s breath catches in his throat and when he shifts, Taemin can’t help glancing down. He can’t really tell if Jongin is hard, but he feels something between them, some kind of pull that sparks a gasp from him and a mewl from Jongin. It’s definitely magic, but it feels like something more than that, something better than that. “Do you want me to f*ck you?” Taemin asks, voice quiet so as to not startle Jongin away.

But Jongin jerks anyway, eyes wide and startled. “I...yeah. Think about it a lot, just...want you to.”

And there’s a lot that Taemin could say, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods and pulls Jongin closer so he’s fully in his lap. “Thought about it too. With Jonghyunnie...he wants to show you how good he can be. Wants to be good for both of us.” They’ve talked about it together in bed, Taemin’s hand around Jonghyun’s co*ck and lips against his ear.

Jongin jerks a little and looks at Taemin, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “How are you doing that?”

Taemin shakes his head, concentrates just a little. “So you do want it, Jonginnie? Do you like sitting in my lap like this?”

Jongin makes a pitched noise and nods, hips jerking forward just a little when Taemin grips him there. “I...Tae.”

“Yes, Jonginnie?”

“Want you to…”

“Say it,” Taemin prompts, “be good and tell me.”

“Want you to f*ck me.”

“Good boy,” Taemin murmurs, “pretty, too.”

Jongin shakes his head, but he doesn’t protest when Taemin says it again a second time. “I wanna be good for you,” he says instead, “want you.”

“I know, can feel.” Taemin brings his hand down to pet at Jongin’s co*ck through his underwear, biting back a smile at the way Jongin’s whole body jerks. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”

Jongin shakes his head yet again, eyes fluttering shut when Taemin grips him more firmly. “I...not usually, just please.”

“Please what, Jonginnie?”

“f*ck me! Please!”

“Okay, baby. I will. Go get ready for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jongin breathes out. It takes him a second to stand though, but he does on wobbly knees, going around the counter and disappearing into the back room, where the bathroom is. Taemin is quick to fire off a text to Minho before going over to flip the sign to closed, then he meets Jongin in the bathroom. His familiar is leaning against the counter, and when he looks up and sees Taemin standing there, he flushes pink and sends out a pulse of desire so strong that Taemin steps back.

“Jongin, you’re…” But there’s nothing that Taemin can really say, or at least no words to vocalize what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, but Jongin understands. Taemin knows he does.

“Kiss me,” Jongin says. His voice is a whisper, if even that, and he doesn’t flinch when Taemin draws closer, one hand to his waist and the other against his cheek. His breathing does grow more shallow, and his eyes flutter shut when Taemin is close enough to kiss him.

And it’s not the way kisses usually go, this is sharp and intense right from the start, and Taemin soon has Jongin pressed up against the counter, keening in between kisses and bucking up against him. It’s entirely disproportionate, how hard and needy and eager he is to what little they’ve done already, but Taemin feels it too, the heat and connection building too quick, too strong.

“Turn around for me, Jonginnie. Gonna make you feel so good.” And yeah, they probably need lube, and this definitely isn’t the best time or place for this, but as Taemin manhandles an entirely willing Jongin around and bends him over, he does not care. Saliva is good enough for now and Jongin is far too used to this, is still enough while Taemin carefully fingers him open.

“Feel good, Jonginnnie. Good for me.”

Jongin whimpers a little and nods, and Taemin is two going on three fingers deep already. “Tae, I’m good, just please-”

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Jonginnie.”

“Not going to, I…” And the tremble in Jongin’s voice, the way he refuses to look up, the streak of foreign embarrassment that runs through Taemin’s body, that tells him what Jongin won’t.

“Good boy,” Taemin breathes. He can feel Jongin’s arousal spike and he presses a lingering kiss to the back of Jongin’s neck before slowly, slowly pulling his fingers out and gripping Jongin by the waist.

He’s alternating between looking down at Jongin before him and up into the mirror in front of them; there’s the view of Jongin opening up for him, but Jongin’s face, bitten lips and closed eyes and flushed cheeks, and Taemin honestly doesn’t know which is better. He decides to settle on the mirror view as he bottoms out, solely for the way Jongin’s lips part in a pretty shape. Taemin can’t help thinking that Jongin’s lips would be even prettier if there were a co*ck between them, and when he says as much, Jongin keens.

“I want you to look,” Taemin says right in Jongin’s ear, and Jongin whines and trembles in his grip, but does as he’s told, opening his eyes and watching as Taemin f*cks him, the stroke of his hips slow and steady. Jongin’s trembling is obvious even in the mirror, and Taemin grips Jongin’s hips tighter, careless for the way his body shunts forward into the counter and back with the force of Taemin’s thrusts and the limpness of his own body. Taemin can feel, literally feel how intense it is for Jongin, and that connection comes back, stronger and more vivid than before. It’s maddening in the best way, and Taemin gives himself up in it, burying his face in Jongin’s neck and breathing him in, breathing their connection in.

“Feels good,” Jongin gasps out, and Taemin knows. Doesn’t even have to say it, because he’s sure Jongin can feel it too, how good it is for him as well. It’s even better than what Jinki makes them feel, and just as Taemin thinks what if, Jongin whines and nods eagerly, pressing back into Taemin and breathing out harsh through his mouth.

“Want him to?” Taemin’s not quite sure that Jongin can even understand him with his lips against his neck, but Jongin whines again and nods, and now Taemin can tell what he’s thinking, imagining. Jinki there, amplifying everything, telling them what to do and where to touch and maybe joining in as well, all the desire and lust and pride that he’d put out for them both. That they’d put out for each other.

And then there’s something else, something that Jongin pushes away before Taemin can really see, but from the bit Taemin’s caught, yeah. “I wanna try that too, Jonginnie.” It’s not something he’s ever thought about before, bzdddut like this, anything.

“Wanna be good,” Jongin whimpers, “wanna come so bad.”

It’s a wonder he hasn’t come already; his skin is hot and flushed and he’s trembling so badly that Taemin isn’t sure how he’s even holding himself up. “Want you to watch yourself come for me like a good boy.”

Jongin shakes his head, eyes screwed shut again, and Taemin nods. “You’re not allowed to come until you look.”

If Taemin concentrates, really concentrates, he can feel Jongin’s thoughts, just a jumbled clamor of curses and pleas and things that he’s far too shy to say. And Taemin probably doesn’t have to speak himself, so he gives into it, trying to tell Jongin how good he is and how good he’s making Taemin feel with just his thoughts. He’s not sure if it works, or if Jongin is just whimpering because he’s close, but now Jongin’s whimpers are growing higher and higher in pitch, and he finally, finally manages to look up and meet Taemin’s gaze through the mirror, and then with a loud whine and a gasp as his body tenses up, Jongin comes, shaking in Taemin’s arms and making breathless little noises as his body slowly relaxes.

But then Jongin thinks something, and Taemin catches just a wisp of it, just the thought of Jonghyun joining them, on his knees and putting his mouth to use for them both as Taemin reaches around to finger Jongin open, and it’s so vivid, so good that Taemin’s hips stutter one last time before he comes.

He gives himself and Jongin another moment to breathe, then pulls out of Jongin and noses up against him before asking, “Should we get Jonghyunnie in here to clean us up then?”

The startled noise Jongin makes says that yeah, they should.

Chapter 28: Nepenthe

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

When Jonghyun wakes up, he feels around for Taemin’s warmth before even opening his eyes, a pout already settling on his lips when he feels how cold the sheets surrounding him are. The room is too bright and that makes his pout deepen even more, and Taemin isn’t there. Jinki isn’t in his room either when Jonghyun goes to pout for kisses, and even Minho and Jongin are gone. It’s absolutely not fair, and Jonghyun decides that he’s mad at all of them until they give him kisses, because he’s here and they’re not and he wants kisses.

There’s only Key here, still in bed, looking adorably sleep-rumped even though they’re already dressed. “Hey, Jonghyunnie,” they say, and when they open their arms, Jonghyun immediately climbs into bed and snuggles up under the blankets, clinging to Key and burying his face in their side.

“Why are you so pouty, Jonghyunnie? One of those days?”

“Mad at everyone. Jinki’s gone and Taeminnie’s gone and Jongin’s gone and Minho’s gone! So I’m mad at them! Wanted to play but they’re gone!”

Key laughs a little and Jonghyun peeps up at them, still pouting but slightly more placated now that he has someone to cuddle. “You can play with me, can’t you?”

The pout easily slips back into place and Jonghyun shakes his head, nosing into Key again and curling closer. “Nuh uh...wanted to play with daddy.”

“Well…” Key starts, and now their hand is running through Jonghyun’s hair, gentle and slow and soothing as they continue, “I can be daddy, can’t I?”

And oh, Jonghyun thinks, because he likes that idea. “I...yeah, want you to.”

“Want me to what, baby?”

“Want you to be daddy. Please.”

“Good boy,” Key murmurs, and Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat as his eyes flutter shut. “Now is there anything you wanted to do, baby boy?”

Jonghyun shifts a little, not so subtly wrapping one of his legs around Key’s waist and aligning his body with Key’s to put just a little friction between them, his co*ck and their side. “I wanna...wanna do what daddy wants.”

Key laughs a little, just under their breath, and they make a decisive noise before saying, “I think it’s time for some play, don’t you?”

When Jonghyun whimpers, Key laughs again, but there is fondness dripping through their voice and the gentleness of their hands when they touch him. “Come on, baby. Be good and let daddy undress you. Wanna see my pretty baby.”

Jonghyun nods even though no question has been asked, sits up and raises his arms obediently for Key to slide his shirt over his head. His pants and underwear come next, and Key bends down to press quick, chaset kiss to his cheeks, nose, mouth. “Pretty for me, Jonghyunnie. Gonna let daddy take care of you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Jonghyun breathes. He’s already half-hard just from Key’s voice and the ghosting of their hands against his body, all their touches and words chaste but still so good. His mind fills in all of the details, all of the things they could do, will do, and then Key touches him, their grip firm and steady as they stroke him slow and easy.

“Gorgeous, Jonghyunnie. So pretty and good for daddy.”

“Thank you daddy,” Jonghyun mumbles. He’s already beyond flustered, and he wants to cover his face so he doesn’t have to watch Key touch him like this, the fondness on their face, in their smile, but something tells him that Key would be disappointed if he did that, so he doesn’t.

“Can you get the lube for me, baby boy?”

Jonghyun nods and scrambles to do as he’s told, scooting up on the bed and digging through the drawer for the tiny bottle before coming back with a soft, hopeful smile as he gives the bottle to Key.

“Good boy, proud of you.” And there it is; Jonghyun wiggles in place, happy to have made Key happy and all too ready for what’s to come. “Gonna let daddy put his fingers inside of you?”

A startled little noise leaves Jonghyun’s lips and he nods eagerly, spreading his legs for Key to sit between and watching with bated breath as Key coats their fingers with lube and then reaches down, stroking at his thigh with their dry fingers and leaning in to kiss his tummy. “You’re so cute, Jonghyunnie.” That said, Key sits back up, a proud smile on their lips as they grip Jonghyun’s co*ck again. “So cute and pretty for daddy, so good. A good boy, Jonghyunnie. And so tiny, it’s gorgeous.”

“Daddy,” Jonghyun keens, “please, wanna be full. Please, daddy.”

Key doesn’t even bat an eye at Jonghyun’s pleas, just nods and smiles and laughs. “I know, baby boy. Daddy’s gonna fill you up.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Jonghyun gasps. The first finger nudges against him and he relaxes the best he can, even if he does end up tensing up as Key pushes their finger inside slow and steady. Their fingers are thinner than Jonghyun’s, but they’re longer, and Jonghyun makes a noise when he feels the knuckles of Key’s hand pressing up against his skin.

“Taking it so well, baby boy. Daddy’s so proud of you. Doing so well, Jonghyunnie.”

“Want another, daddy. Please, I can take it, I’ll be good.”

“Know you will, always good for me.” But Key does as Jonghyun asks, watching intently for signs of discomfort that do not come. “God, Jonghyunnie. So pretty like this.”

A flash of heat curls through Jonghyun’s stomach and he nods, biting his lip and shutting his eyes before managing to say, “Thank you daddy.”

“Want another?”

“Please, wanna be full.”

“And how many is full, Jonghyunnie? Two isn’t enough?”

“Nuh uh! Want another, daddy!”

“My good baby boy, knew you would.” Key presses another soft kiss to Jonghyun’s mouth as they slide in a third finger, slower now as they twist their hand just to make Jonghyun whine. “Whiny baby,” they murmur, “so loud. They’d all hear you, Jonghyunnie. Gonna get you ready for them, so when they come back, they can just slide in you, pretty baby. Want that?”

“Please, want them to. Wanna be good.”

“You are good, baby boy.” A fourth finger, and Jonghyun’s wail is barely muffled by the hand that he claps over his mouth. “Pretty noises. Let daddy hear you.”

And when Jonghyun shakes his head, Key just reaches up and pries his hand away, twisting their hand again and fingering Jonghyun quicker now that he can’t hide his noises. Because they really are pretty noises, ones that Key files away to remember later, to think about when they’re in the mood to be touched. Jonghyun is starting to tear up now, already overwhelmed by the sensation, and Key smooths away the tears that begin to fall with their thumb.

“You’re taking it so well, Jonghyunnie...think I can fit my whole hand?” As they speak, Key nudges their thumb against the puffy rim of Jonghyun’s hole, and before they can even begin to press their thumb in, Jonghyun’s whole body jerks, and he clenches around Key’s fingers. One hand grips the sheets tight and the other fumbles for Key’s hand, and he whines as he comes, streaking up his stomach.

“Pretty,” Key says, and it’s an absent thought, but it still makes Jonghyun smile a little, blissed out and pretty, pretty, pretty.

“I did good?”

“So good, Jonghyunnie. Feel good?”

Jonghyun nods and his hazy smile grows just a little, turns into shy, flustered giggles. “Kibummie, wanna nap now.”

“How about we go clean up first, and then we can take a nap. Sound good?”

The smile falls from Jonghyun’s lips and is replaced by a pout, but after a long moment of thought, Jonghyun nods. “Clean and then eat and then sleepy time.”

“Okay, baby. Come wait in the tub while I get snacks, okay?”

Jonghyun nods again and slips out of bed, following Key on wobbly legs to the bathroom and waiting patiently for the tub to be filled. When it’s full, Key presses a quick kiss to Jongyhun’s forehead before reminding him that they’ll be right back, that they’re only going to grab snacks for them both.

The last thing they see before they go to the kitchen is Jonghyun on his tiptoes, struggling to reach the box of bathbombs on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. It’s so cute that Key has to stop and watch, and just before they decide to help Jonghyun out, he reaches it and makes a pleased little noise to himself. When he looks over and sees Key standing there, a flustered smile spreads across his lips, and he turns back to the tub before dropping one of the bathbombs in and following soon after.

“Hurry, Kibummie!”

Key smothers their fond smile and nods at Jonghyun before hurrying to the kitchen and back, all too happy to comply to Jonghyun’s every whims when he’s like this.

Chapter 29: Nugas

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

“Fu-- god, Key,” Minho gasps, a broken noise, and he crumples forward a little bit, shoulders pressing hard against Key’s legs. He’s crouched in front of them, sunk all the way down on the dild* suction cupped to the tile floor of the bathroom, and Key has the door wide open for anyone to see, for anyone to walk in.

Minho shudders, taking a moment to focus, to breathe, to keep himself from just coming right here and now. It doesn’t work -- he’s pulled back from the edge, but not from focusing. It’s Key’s hand in his hair, strong and tight, yanking his head back up, that pulls him away, a sharp spark of pain that seems to ricochet down his spine and back up. Minho gasps.

“Did I say you could look down?” Key asks, voice all warning, and Minho whimpers a tight high noise in response, mouth dropping open in an answer that Key transforms into a moan with just a short motion of their thumb. “Look at me, Minho. Did I say you could?”

“N-no,” Minho gasps. “No, I’m-- ah, god. Touch-- please, touch me. Let me--”

“No,” Key says, and yanks on Minho’s hair, dragging his head back. “You don’t get what you want when you’re being disobedient.”

Minho shudders. “I am--”

Key’s fingers loosen slightly in his hair. “That’s funny,” they murmur, “because I don’t remember giving you permission to stop.”

Minho whines, and lifts himself up, just inches, and then sinks back down, the slick silicone filling him up so easily. It’s big, pressing him apart, and Key had picked perfectly -- the burn and stretch hadn’t faded until the burn of his thighs and calves had begun, and Minho aches. He aches because of Key, and he’s dazed, dizzy, and he could stop if he wanted, he knows he could, but every times he stops.

His legs wobble, giving out for a moment, and as soon as the motion stops, Key sighs and clicks something in their hand and Minho yelps, the sudden pulse of vibrations from the device strapped to his co*ck, just centimeters above the co*ck ring around his co*ck. He’s so hard the vibrations actually hurt, but the co*ck ring won’t let him come, keeps dragging him to the edge, the threat of tipping over real and frightening because he knows if he comes before Key says, they won’t even pay attention to it -- they’ll just keep going until Minho is a screaming, shaking, oversensitive mess.

Minho kind of wants it. Despite himself, he can’t help but think-- Key flicks the vibrator setting up one more, and Minho buckles again, moaning brokenly. Key doesn’t even try to hide their laugh. “Focus, Minho,” they coo. “Ride your pretty toy for me.”

Minho shudders. It’s so-- Key is right there, watching, in control, and they haven’t even touched Minho. They have a remote control and some words and Minho’s entire being in their hand, and Minho obeys mindlessly, thoughtlessly, forcing himself to rise and fall on the dild* even as he lets out little hiccuping moans with each stroke. Key turns the vibrator on his co*ck back down, not quite off but so much less, so much more of a tease.

Minho lets out a tight sob, but he doesn’t stop moving this time, and Key coos, a soft noise that would be demeaning if he didn’t whole-heartedly mean it. “You’re doing so well, Minho.”

“Th-thank you?” Minho stutters, unsure. Minho isn’t-- he doesn’t like to be ‘good,’ not in the way that Jonghyun and Jongin do. He isn’t like that, but it’s still nice to hear, and he feels a flush of warmth that dissipates when he looks up and sees Key’s expression.

Key is smirking, their eyes roving over Minho’s body, and they catch on his co*ck, on the way his lower body is basically trussed up. Key looks nothing more than devious. “How long do you think you can keep it up, hm? Do you think you can keep going until I say so?”

Minho’s magic flickers at the hypothetical, trying to give him possible futures, but it doesn’t hold. Not when, no matter what his visions might or might not say, Minho can’t think of a single possible future where he doesn’t do exactly as Key asks him to.

“Yes,” he breathes, “Yes, but -- but, please, Key, please.”

Key flicks the vibrator up to its second setting and hums. “Please what?”

Minho jerks and shudders, sinking down on the dild*, and it takes every ounce of his will to keep going, to not just crumple, but he does it. He just doesn’t manage words at the same time, whining helplessly at Key and fumbling, “I-- ah, need--”

“Need what?” Key teases. “Need more?”

They press the remote, and the vibrator is suddenly jarring, up three stages and almost too powerful, and Minho buckles, barely managing to catch himself. He gasps for air, shaking, but there’s nothing but sensation. His strokes are getting sloppy and he’s riding the dild* in his ass in wide, uneven strokes, but he doesn’t care.

He’s choking on broken, whining noises, his hands shaking and his mind blank, and Key reaches out, curling a hand through his hair and murmuring, “Need what?”

“C-come,” Minho fumbles. “Need to come, please, I need it, please--”

“Come for me, then,” Key says, and presses something on the remote that has Minho wailing.

The vibrator is all the way up, past anything Minho could have thought, and Key reaches down, adjusting the vibrator to rest right against the head of Minho’s co*ck as he jerks and thrashes, seated on the dild* in his ass and grinding back, digging it into his prostate, and-- “Please, please, I need-- I... “

“So needy,” Key says, a smirk in their voice, and they slip a finger under the co*ck-ring, pulling it loose. Minho sobs, and then he’s coming, falling apart without a single touch from Key. The vibrator turns off immediately and Minho shudders violently.

From behind him, Minho hears a slow beat of applause, turning around to see Jinki in the doorway, holding fiercely onto Jongin’s wrist to hold him there. Minho flushes.

Key smiles. “A good show, right?”

“Definitely,” Jinki says, and then runs his thumb over Jongin’s wrist. ”What do you say? Should we get you some pretty toys like that?”

Jongin makes a whimpering noise in the back of his throat and looks at Minho, who takes a deep, steadying breath.

“They’re…. really nice,” he admits quietly, and shivers as Key tugs at his hair again, less harsh and more playful.

“Just for that,” they say, voice as much question as authority, “We’ll strap both of those back on once you’ve rested.”

Minho whimpers loudly, but he doesn’t say no.

Chapter 30: Dehorio

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

They’ve all known since the moment Taemin joined their coven that he was Jonghyun’s and vice versa. It’s a bond that’s always been there, since the moment Taemin, scared and feline, leapt into Jonghyun’s arms, and it’s evidenced in the way that, since they formed this little hodgepodge of a coven, Taemin has followed Jonghyun around like Jonghyun hung the moon.

It’s adorable, actually. Jonghyun is so soft, so free with praise and affection but still soft enough, eager enough to be good, that he bends to Taemin’s whims like a flower reaching towards the sun, a description all too apt considering Taemin’s powers.

To the rest of them, Taemin is still wary. It’s fair -- they’ve only been like this a few months, and Taemin is more feline than he sometimes lets on, and he does affection on his own terms. It doesn’t bother Key, and Minho is strangely calm about seemingly everything, though Jinki’s not sure how much of that is a front. But they’re all still getting to know one another, Taemin so new to their little home and Minho even newer, and it’s not that strange.

Except, of course, that with Taemin latched onto Jonghyun like a security blanket, it’s interesting to see Jonghyun’s moods. He’s holding together well, soft and snuggly and good with Taemin, but it had taken so long for Jonghyun to come to Jinki -- Jinki, who Jonghyun already knew, could already feel, would accept him. And recently he’s been so busy with Taemin that he hasn’t come to Jinki much at all.

Jinki doesn’t mind -- he doesn’t own Jonghyun, and even though he misses him, he understands. But he’s not sure where the breaking point is before Jonghyun needs. So he takes careful gauge of Jonghyun’s and Taemin’s moods to make sure they’re okay, and then he waits to see.

It doesn’t take long. Jonghyun gets sleepy before he gets needy, and he doesn’t have the reserves to keep wasting, but he’s also overtired. He needs rest, but his head is all over the place, and it doesn’t take much more than that before Jonghyun is latching himself to Jinki with a pout and a whine. “I’m tired,” he grumbles, burying his face into Jinki’s shoulder and then mumbling something else that is almost too low to hear except that Jinki feels the little pang of petulant jealousy that comes with it and understands it to be a whisper of, “S’not fair.”

Jinki looks around curiously for context and finds it easily. Taemin is napping in a sun splotch on the floor, curled up easily in the light, his tail flicking. Jonghyun is sleepy and Taemin is sleeping, and the petulance is clear in Jonghyun’s voice.

Jinki hums. “My poor baby,” he says, petting down Jonghyun’s hair. “My poor sleepy baby.”

Jonghyun squirms in his arms. “Stop,” he whines, and Jinki hadn’t even thought twice about saying it, but when Jonghyun looks up his cheeks are pink and his lower lip is jutting out in a pout, and he whispers, “You’re teasing.”

He’s precious, honestly, and Jinki realizes with a pang how much he’s missed this. “I’m not teasing, baby. Teasing would mean you don’t get anything out of it.”

Jonghyun sucks in a quick, tight breath and then exhales it all on one breathy, “Daddy…”

“Yes, baby boy?” Jinki asks, falling easily back into this familiarity. He’s had months more time with Jonghyun, time to get to know him, to understand what affects him and how, and just that is enough to make Jonghyun whimper. Jinki can literally feel some of the anxiety draining out of Jonghyun as he presses his fingers into Jonghyun’s hips and murmurs, “Tell daddy what you want.”

“Want you,” Jonghyun breathes dazedly, stretching up for a kiss.

Jinki gives it easily, but it’s just a quick one before he pulls back to ask, “Want me how, baby? Use your words.”

Jonghyun’s emotions flare, embarrassment and nervousness and want, and then he mumbles, “Want you to tell me. Don’t want to pick.”

Jinki hums. “Okay, baby. On your knees then.”

And maybe he’s too eager, maybe he’s missed this too much, because he doesn’t think about the fact that they aren’t alone. He watches Jonghyun go gracefully to his knees, and that’s where all of Jinki’s focus is as Jonghyun peers up at him with eager eyes and pouty lips and touches his belt in a question that Jinki immediately agrees to.

Jonghyun’s already got his pants half down and his hand around Jinki’s co*ck before they both remember all at once. From across the room, there’s a tiny shuffle and then a strange airy noise that makes Jinki think of expanding and then Taemin gasps.

Jonghyun pulls back with a start, expression mortified and emotions in turmoil, but past them, Jinki can feel Taemin’s -- startled and embarrassed, of course, but there’s also curiosity there. Curiosity and interest and want.

Jinki hums, reaching down to cup Jonghyun’s cheek, and he presses calm into him, trying to soothe him before he murmurs, “I think your pretty kitty would like to join us, hm?”

He feels Jonghyun and Taemin’s emotions in tandem, bursts of nervous desire, and Jinki laughs. “You two are precious.”

Jonghyun only pouts more, but Taemin’s voice is wavering as he speaks up. “I don’t want to…” He gestures vaguely. “I can just go, if you two want to…”

“You’re not intruding,” Jinki says, “if that’s what you were worried about.”

Taemin flushes. “Yeah,” he mumbles, and then, “Are you--”

“Taemin,” Jonghyun whines, looking back at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Taeminnie..”

Taemin’s want and affection is palpable from across the room, and he moves closer with curious motions, his eyes wide. “What do I--?”

And Jinki can feel it, that brief nervousness as he glances at Jinki. He doesn’t want that, not just yet. He more wants Jonghyun.

Jinki hums softly. “How about you suck our pretty baby off, hm?”

Taemin nods gratefully, eagerly, and almost at once he lays down, openly willing. Jonghyun whines. “D-- I… uhm…”

“Say it, pretty baby,” Jinki murmurs. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

“D-daddy,” Jonghyun breathes, and Jinki feels the way Taemin’s interest peaks, a flush of something almost viscerally hot in hs emotions. “Daddy, I still want…”

“Don’t worry, baby boy,” Jinki coos. “You’re going to.”

And Jonghyun squirms, eyes wide and just a little wet as he nods eagerly and shifts. Jinki helps him get settled, helps him find a position where Taemin can get to him and Jonghyun can still get to Jinki. The moment they find it, Jonghyun leans in and presses a quick kiss to Jinki’s co*ck. “Daddy…”

“Suck me off,” Jinki demands. “Be a good boy.”

Jonghyun whines and does as he’s told, wrapping his mouth around the head of Jinki’s co*ck and suckling for a moment before he bobs down. Before Jinki’s co*ck is even in his throat, Jonghyun moans, vibrations making Jinki gasp, and he glances down to see Taemin, mouth on Jonghyun’s co*ck and taking Jonghyun with the kind of sloppiness that only comes with eagerness, and Jonghyun is already quivering, looking up at Jinki almost plaintively.

Jinki grins. “Does it feel good, Jonghyunnie? Does Taeminnie’s mouth feels as good as yours does, baby boy?”

Jonghyun shudders and makes a muffled noise that sounds an awful lot like a garbled version of ‘daddy’. Jinki reaches down, stroking his hair, and lets his own desire leak out a little, letting Jonghyun feel how much he loves this, loves Jonghyun’s mouth on his co*ck. Jonghyun moans again.

“Get daddy off, hm?” he murmurs. “And then you can come in Taeminnie’s mouth.”

He didn’t think to ask, but he can tell they’re both into it, Taemin from the flash of desire, and Jonghyun from that and from the way he throws himself into his task, all but f*cking his own mouth with Jinki’s co*ck. It’s gorgeous, and Jinki runs fingers through Jonghyun’s hair, pushing out another wave of desire that makes Jonghyun moan loudly, throat vibrating around the head of Jinki’s co*ck, and it’s so good, Jinki’s hips jerking forward of their own accord, pushing a little further into Jonghyun’s throat.

Taemin lets out a sudden noise of surprise, a heavy wave of emotion rolling off of it, but none of it’s negative. He’s pulled back a little, startled, and the very last splash of Jonghyun’s come lands across his parted lips. Otherwise his mouth is full, and Taemin takes a moment, blinking a couple of times in rapid succession like he’s trying to process before he swallows thickly, gulping down Jonghyun’s come.

He moans softly, opening his mouth, now empty, and then licks at his own lips, swallowing every time his tongue disappears into his mouth like he’s trying to swallow every possible drop of Jonghyun’s come. And it’s a pretty sight, but it’s nothing compared to Taemin leaning back down, lapping at the tip of Jonghyun’s co*ck where there are clinging drops of come, and all but mewling, seemingly without thinking, “More.”

“f*ck,” Jinki hisses, and his hips jerk again, Jonghyun whimpering openly as Taemin laps at his hypersensitive co*ck, but he’s being so good, mouth still open, and he sucks desperately as Jinki f*cks his mouth, already so close from the sight of Taemin so desperate from more of Jonghyun, the way Taemin is putting off something close to need in heavy waves.

“Jinki,” Taemin whines, looking up at him, and there’s embarrassment there now, but it doesn’t stop him from demanding, “Want yours too.”

And f*ck. Jinki grabs Jonghyun by the hair, holding him in place as gently as he can when he’s coming so hard that his legs threaten to buckle.

“Don’t swallow,” he manages to Jonghyun, who whimpers, looking up at him with a question in his eyes. A question he can’t voice, because his mouth is full of Jinki’s come.

And then Tamein is there, squirming in close to kiss Jonghyun, and Jinki can see the way Taemin presses Jonghyun’s mouth open with his tongue, and see the way he licks Jinki’s come out of Jonghyun’s mouth, his throat bobbing as he swallows it down, making a noise low in his chest that Jinki might almost mistake for purring.

After a moment, he pulls back. Both of their mouths are empty now, slightly open, and Jonghyun licks his lips after a moment, making a quiet noise. Jinki runs a hand through his hair. “So good, baby. You’re such a good boy for daddy. You too, Taeminnie. Wasn’t your pretty kitty good, Jonghyunnie?”

Jonghyun nods helplessly. “Y-yeah,” he whispers, voice a little shot. He’s dazed and a little confused, and mostly just incredibly turned on still. “So good, Taeminnie.”

Jinki grins. “Taeminnie, I think our baby boy might have a little more for you,” he murmurs, nudging Jonghyun’s legs apart with his foot. And Jonghyun’s only half hard again, but the want that radiates off of Taemin and Jonghyun both tells Jinki all he needs to know.

Chapter 31: Kalopsia

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Maybe it’s the after-effects of Key’s potion, and maybe it’s just just his body naturally reacting to Jonghyun, but when Jinki and Jonghyun get back from their date, Taemin only has to look at Jonghyun and he’s already aching, and with the sensitivity of his nose and the way Jonghyun is clinging to Jinki, he can already tell (to some degree) what they’d done while they were out.

“Taeminnie,” Jinki says, and he sounds amused as he kisses Jonghyun’s temple. “Can you help Jonghyunnie into bed? He’s...a bit out of it.”

Taemin noses against Key’s chin as a quick thanks and then slips from their lap to shift, coming close to Jonghyun to hold him by the waist and gently pull him from Jinki. Jonghyun whines, just a little, but he comes with Taemin, pliant and obedient like he always is after Jinki’s done playing with him. Taemin can smell the come sticking up Jonghyun’s boxers, and he wants, but Jonghyun is still so soft and drifty and floaty, clinging to Taemin and whining whenever Taemin tries to pull away.

But when Taemin does finally manage to shake free of Jonghyun’s clinging hands, it’s to stand above him, with Jonghyun on the edge of their bed and looking up at him with pouty accusation clear on his face. So Taemin reaches out and runs his hand through Jonghyun’s hair, making him look up at him as he asks, “Jonghyunnie, wanna be good for me?”

Even jost those few words make Jonghyun shiver and peep up at Taemin with wide eyes and pouty lips. “Wanna,” he whines, “please.”

“Want you to tell me what you and Jinki did.”

Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat and a high, strangled noise is pulled from his throat as he shifts closer, just a little bit. “I...he put a toy in me this morning, and it was so good but he wouldn’t let me come, and I was good and sucked him off but he just…” Jonghyun sounds petulant now, but he’s still nearly breathless, so needy.

“He just what, Jonghyunnie?”

“We went to the movies and the toy vibrated and people were gonna hear and he wouldn’t let me come and he...he touched me and it was so good-”

“And you came for him, Jonghyunnie? Right out in the open like that?”

Another one of those pretty noises and Jonghyun nods, shy now, pouting. “Wanted to be good.”

“You were good, so good and pretty. Would’ve kept you quiet, Jonghyunnie, would’ve made you suck me off to keep your pretty mouth full.”

Jonghyun whines now, and his fingers twitch for Taemin’s belt. Taemin knows that Jonghyun will wait until he gives the word, no matter how much he wants it, and he waits until Jonghyun begins to squirm to nod and pet Jonghyun’s hair in approval. And Jonghyun is so eager, especially easy for him when he’s so soft like this, that Taemin doesn’t even mind that Jonghyun immediately tugs down Taemin’s pants and underwear and sucks him down, mouthing first at the head and then straying further down and down until he’s choking on it and whining high in his throat between sucks.

“f*ck, you’re good, Jonghyunnie.” It takes an enormous amount of self-restraint for Taemin to not just f*ck Jonghyun’s mouth, but when he asks Jonghyun if he’d like that, Jonghyun whimpers and pulls back entirely, opening his mouth and waiting with wide eyes for Taemin’s co*ck. His breath very audibly catches when Taemin runs the head of his co*ck against his lips and tongue, but he stays still until Taemin gives up on the teasing and begins to f*ck his mouth, slow at first but quickly speeding up for the way Jonghyun whines, for the way he looks. Blotchy red cheeks, thinned out lips around his co*ck, wide teary eyes. And Jonghyun looks so gorgeous like this, when his eyes are wide and wet and when there are tears threatening to spill over from sensation alone.

But when Taemin opens his eyes again and sees Jonghyun’s hand going for his own co*ck, the way his eyes are fluttering shut as he gives into everything, the choked noise he makes when Taemin tells him to be good and touch yourself for me, want to watch you get yourself off. And he hasn’t said anything about Jonghyun looking back up at him as he does it, but maybe Jonghyun just knows him that well, because his eyes flutter open and he’s crying now, tears spilling out from the corners of his eyes as his mouth is f*cked and f*cked and f*cked.

Taemin reaches out to smooth Jonghyun’s tears away, but ends up gripping Jonghyun by the hair to steady him and f*ck his mouth in earnest now, thinking only of what a pretty picture Jonghyun makes, on his knees, co*ck in his mouth, crying as he touches himself. Taemin’s sure that if Jonghyun could speak now, he’d ask to be fingered and f*cked open, held small and spread out on Taemin’s lap, but he can’t, so Taemin asks for him, for the way he whines and keens and cries. And there’s a dim part of him that’s sure that he’s f*cking Jonghyun’s mouth entirely too hard, but Jonghyun looks so pretty and he’s almost matching Taemin’s erratic strokes as he trembles in place on the bed, and he looks so pretty.

“Gonna come down your pretty throat, Jonghyunnie.” Taemin gasps out, and it’s half a warning, mostly just for the way Jonghyun’s eyes flutter, and suddenly he isn’t so sure. He wants to come in Jonghyun’s mouth, wants to watch him swallow and kiss the taste from his mouth, but, “Or should I make sure you’re nice and clean for me so I can f*ck you properly, baby boy? Which do you want?” Slowly, slowly, Taemin lets his co*ck slip from Jonghyun’s mouth, admiring the slick shininess of his lips and the way his chest heaves as he tries to breathe.

“Wanna be good, please. I wanna come-”

“Pretty baby,” Taemin coos, “open your mouth for me.”

Jonghyun whimpers and nods, whole body trembling as he opens his mouth for Taemin’s co*ck again. His eyes slip shut when his mouth is full, but he opens them again before Taemin even has to ask, and he’s gorgeous like this.

“Pretty, Jonghyunnie. Would look even prettier if you had a co*ck in your ass too, baby boy. Pretty and full for us like a good boy.”

Jonghyun makes a choked noise as he comes and maybe it’s the words, maybe it’s all the sensation that he’s shaking with, but a fresh wave of tears come to Jonghyun’s eyes, and he’s so f*cking pretty like this that Taemin has to pull out and jerk himself off quick, thinking about Jonghyun’s teary eyes and pouty lips and broken, wrecked noises. Thinking about how f*cked out he’d made Jonghyun just from f*cking his mouth, from telling him how good he is. And it’s partially that, but it’s mostly the tears, the tear tracks on Jonghyun’s cheeks and the redness of his face and the wetness of his eyes as more tears fall that make him come, staining Jonghyun’s face further and making him whine.

“f*ck, you’re gorgeous-”

“Wanna,” Jonghyun interrupts, “want what you said, wanna be good. Please.” And Jonghyun isn’t the one in heat, and he’s just come twice now, but he’s still needy, co*ck already twitching against Taemin’s stomach as he clambers into Taemin’s lap and begins to grind insistently against him.

“What, baby? Want to be filled up?”

Jonghyun keens and nods eagerly, and even if he’s a little disappointed that they have to settle for Taemin’s co*ck in his ass and fingers in his mouth, Taemin and Jinki more than make up for it later that night.

Chapter 32: Magnum

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Day 31: Free-for-all
Jongyu

Jinki looks forward to Halloween. He likes it just for the aesthetics, honestly, that weird amalgamation of creepy and festive. But there’s more than that to it. As commercialized as it’s become, there’s still something at the root; something magical and familiar. Stereotypical or not, Halloween is a gathering day for witches, and even now that they’ve moved away and have a coven of their own, Halloween is one of the few times a year that Jinki and Key go home to see their families.

In a way, they have a different family now. Jonghyun and Minho and Taemin and Jongin, they’re the family that Key and Jinki had sought out from day one, and Jinki couldn’t be happier. But that doesn’t stop him from missing his parents sometimes, and having an excuse to go home, even for a bit, is nice.

They others are coming with them this year too -- they don’t always, but last Halloween things had been hectic and Jongin hadn’t come. Jongin has met their families in between, but he’s never been there for Halloween, and that feels important somehow.

Which is why they’ve all made sure to set aside time for the trip -- Jinki has closed his office, and Jongin and Taemin have closed the plant shop. Key drops off all of their packages that are supposed to go out a day early with a Happy Halloween and a jack-o-lantern drawn on in red ink.

Minho’s fortune-telling stint is hit or miss anyways, and he’s known for sporadic hours; disappearing on Halloween actually gives him an air of mystery that most of his customers appreciate. And Jonghyun finishes up his lyrics and sends them out on the 29th, letting Jinki coax him into sleeping through most of the 30th so that he’s well-rested.

It’s nice, the way they’re willing to fit their lives around something like this because they know how much it means, even if Taemin is barely awake on Halloween morning when they make it to the bus station, leaning heavily into Jonghyun as he fumbles his way through the morning.

Jonghyun smiles easily, petting Taemin’s hair, and Jinki can’t help the fondness on his face as he watches them, waiting until they hear the call for their bus before they head over.

It’s not fancy -- there’s seats lining the sides of the bus and the back wall, all facing center, and a compartment for luggage up above. They all have overnight bags, considering they won’t be too long, and Jongin and Taemin have even less, both of them clearly planning to sleep in animal forms to conserve some space.

Jinki makes sure Taemin has his phone and his wallet just in case and makes sure Jongin has his collar in case he and Minho go for a morning run, and then they all pile onto the bus, a strange sight as several twenty-somethings move into the bus and freeze, looking around.

There aren’t assigned seats on the bus, and so people are sitting here and there. There aren’t a lot of people and most of them are already settling, cramming earbuds in ears or pulling out computers or books or tablets.

But people have spread out as much as possible, seemingly afraid of personal space, and it’s left weird gaps of 3 or 4 seats here and there. Jinki doesn’t see 6 at all, and he frowns a little to himself. He doesn’t want to split them up. It would be understandable, but if he has another choice…

Jongin plops down in a seat and pats his lap, grinning at them in a way that is probably supposed to seem teasing, but mostly just comes off as eager. It’s cute, honestly, and Taemin doesn’t seem to think twice before he plops down in Jongin’s lap, making Jongin grunt at the sudden weight. Minho laughs and takes the seat on one side of them, leaving Jinki to take the other side. There’s two more seats, and Key takes one of them, but Jonghyun doesn’t budge, pouting a little.

“Jonghyunnie?” Jinki asks, reaching out for Jonghyun who lets himself be grabbed, still pouting openly. Jinki lets his magic seep out, just enough to feel that Jonghyun isn’t even really upset, just feeling soft and needy.

That becomes all too evident when Jonghyun whines, “I wanted to sit in Jonginnie’s lap.”

Taemin muffles a laugh behind his hand. “You’re cute, Jonghyunnie,” he says, clearly enamored. “Do you want to trade?”

Jonghyun shakes his head. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbles. “Don’t want to take it from you…”

“You can sit in my lap on the way home tomorrow, okay?” Jongin says, smiling gently, and Jonghyun lights up a little.

Jinki grins. “You can sit in my lap for now, Jonghyunnie,” he says, tugging gently. Jonghyun lets out a breathy, excited noise and tumbles easily onto Jinki’s lap instead, letting Jinki wind his arms around him. “Better, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” Jonghyun says, cheeks visibly flushed as he shifts into a more comfortable position.

“Good.” Jinki winds his arms around his waist gently. “My good boy.”

Jonghyun whines softly but he curls into Jinki easily enough, and Jinki settles back for the ride. Jongin and Taemin are in deep discussion about something with plants, and Minho keeps joining in in seemingly random spots, offering advice that Taemin and Jongin incorporate without questioning. On Jinki’s other side, Key has pulled out a pair of headphones and their phone, disappearing into their music for the time being, and Jinki hums and settles in, just letting himself feel the familiar energies and emotions of his coven.

He’s almost dozing but not quite when Jonghyun shifts again. It wakes him up pretty neatly, and he squeezes Jonghyun’s waist in question only for Jonghyun to squirm again, shifting his body weight in something that might just be an attempt to get comfortable. But Jinki knows Jonghyun better than that, and he catches him by the hips, murmuring, “Jonghyunnie?”

And Jonghyun makes a noise that is too high and too distracted to be anything but guilty. “I…” he starts and then licks his lips. “Sorry, daddy.”

His voice is low, but not low enough to be missed by Taemin, right next to them, who glances over, raising an eyebrow.

Jonghyun flushes. “I… I can go sit somewhere else?”

And it’s barely even a real offer because they both know that neither of them are going to let that happen, but it doesn’t stop Jinki from instinctively tightening his hold on Jonghyun, tugging him in and holding him still all at once. “Did I say you should?”

“No,” Jonghyun breathes, whisper-quiet, and his cheeks are pink and his eyes are wide and Jinki adjusts his grip so he’s holding Jonghyun’s waist in one arm. Jonghyun is so tiny, so precious, and Jinki only has to have one hand to hold on, the other slipping down to rest on Jonghyun’s upper thigh in a way that would be more casual if not for the thumb he’s rubbing along the inner seam of Jonghyun’s pants. Jonghyun’s breath hitches. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” Jinki says back, voice very close to Jonghyun’s ear.

“Daddy, you’re teasing,” Jonghyun breathes, squirming again, and Taemin glances over again, smirk firmly on his lips.

Jinki smiles. “Am I?” he asks. “You started it, baby boy. Squirming around on daddy’s lap. Do you want to tell me why you were doing that, hm?”

The noise Jonghyun lets out is precious, and Jinki barely keeps from laughing openly as Jonghyun goes pink.

“Did you want daddy’s co*ck, hmm?” Jinki asks. “Did you want daddy to let you ride him right here for everyone to see?”

“Yes,” Jonghyun gasps, and even Minho and Jongin are looking now, curious and slightly amused, and Jinki is mostly just lucky that nobody else is.

“So needy,” Jinki teases, shifting his hand slightly so he’s squeezing the inside of Jonghyun’s thigh, just below his co*ck, his fingertips pressing into Jonghyun’s leg. He doesn’t do much more then push gently, scooting Jonghyun’s leg a half an inch outwards, but the threat is there, the idea of pushing Jonghyun’s legs open wide, and Jonghyun makes a startled sound, just shy of too loud. Jinki presses a soft kiss just behind Jonghyun’s ear. “Quiet, baby boy. You’re so noisy when you’re needy like this.”

“Daddy,” Jonghyun whines, and Jinki squeezes Jonghyun’s thigh admonishingly. Jonghyun shivers. “Daddy, please.”

“Please what?” Jinki asks. “Please f*ck you? Baby, you couldn’t be quiet. Everyone would look. They already are, baby boy. Taeminnie and Minho and Jonginnie, they’ve all noticed you.”

Jonghyun sucks in a quick breath and chances a glance and then bites his lips together around a high, tight noise.

Jinki grins. “Bet Tae would let you, hm?” he whispers, mouth held close to Jonghyun’s ear so the words are for him alone. “You know how he is. Bet he’d let you get on your knees on the floor of this bus and suck him off right here. Get Jonginnie to f*ck you open…”

Jonghyun is shaking in Jinki’s hold now, and Jinki eases up on his leg and strokes his thigh a few times soothingly. Jonghyun exhales after a moment, and his voice is a little wet when he whines, “Daddy, please…”

Jinki hums. “Please, what?” he asks, and shifts, pressing his half-hard co*ck into Jonghyun’s ass. Jonghyun whimpers, and Jinki squeezes his thigh again. “Is this what you want, baby boy?”

“Yes,” Jonghyun says. “Daddy, please--”

But his voice is cut off by a voice over the intercom of the bus, announcing the time until arrival, and it’s all too soon. Jinki hums.

“Do you want to be good for daddy?” he asks, and at Jonghyun’s frantic nod, Jinki smiles and lets his hand trail up, squeezing Jonghyun’s co*ck just once before he lets go, too aware of where they are right now. “Then be a good boy. Wait a little longer and daddy will f*ck you as soon as we’re there, hm?”

And Jonghyun looks like he wants to protest, but after a moment he nods, settling. He’s still shaking in Jinki’s hold, all pent up energy, but Jinki will take care of that soon.

When the bus finally stops, Key pulls out their headphones, looking at the both of them, and then they sighs, standing. They lean down, pressing a kiss to Jonghyun’s forehead. “You two are so obvious,” they sigh. “I’ll get the others. Go take care of Jonghyunnie.”

Jonghyun whines quietly in his throat, but Jinki only smiles, squeezing his waist gently as he nods at Key. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice low and playful, and even though his eyes are on Key, his words are clearly for Jonghyun. “I will.”

Chapter 33: Parvum

Chapter by eorumverba (orphan_account)

Chapter Text

Halloween as a holiday had never really meant anything to Jonghyun before the coven - he’d spent the day like any other, writing songs and sleeping at odd hours and putting out a giant bowl of candy for the kids to take at night. He’s never celebrated it though, not even after realizing that his wishes coming true weren’t just coincidences, that witches are real, that he’s one. This year feels like it’s the first time that they’re really celebrating Halloween, and maybe that’s just Jongin’s childlike excitement, but there’s an air of excitement that only builds as the day grows closer, as Key reminds them with fond exasperation in their voice to pack toothpaste and socks and pajamas, as they all pile in the living room for final preparation talks.

But then the day comes, and Jinki’s shaking Jonghyun and Taemin awake and yeah, he’d known they’d have to wake up early, but it’s so early, and the bed is so warm and soft and Taemin is pleading for five more minutes and Jonghyun agrees, if only for five more minutes of cuddling. But Jinki is insistent and promises them both cuddles and naps for later, but only if they both get up right now, and that isn’t fair, but Jonghyun gets up right away, and Taemin is weak for him, so he does as well. He looks adorably sleep-rumpled and Jonghyun leans in to kiss the pout from his lips, even if Taemin tries to drag him back down into the warm blankets when he does so. And it’s so obvious what he’s trying to do, but Jinki tugs Jonghyun back and shakes his head at them both, fond amusem*nt clear in his voice when he chastises them.

And the early morning hours pass quickly, much more quickly than Jonghyun had thought they would - they’re filled with last minute packing and stolen kisses, shared thermoses of tea and pastries, final preparations and going over plans one more time, one more time. And finally it’s time for them to get on the bus, and Jongin is practically vibrating with excitement in Minho’s arms - Minho is honestly just holding him so he won’t shift or be too excitable in such a cramped space - and his excitement is leaking out to Jonghyun as well. He’s more subtle with it, gripping Jinki and Key’s hands tight and hiding his smile by biting his lips. Jinki gives him a fond look before glancing back to Taemin and asking if he has his wallet and phone, and Jonghyun can’t help giggling. Minho and Key hold Taemin’s important things now more often than not, mostly so Taemin won’t lose them again and again.

Taemin whines out an answer and wrinkles his nose at Jinki, but then they’re next and Jonghyun tugs at Jinki’s arm until he gets on the bus, everyone else following their coven leader close behind. Jinki stops short in his tracks when he makes it all the way onto the bus and Jonghyun whines and nudges him because it’s cold out and he wants to sit, but then he peers over Jinki’s shoulder and understands why. There’s not enough seats for them all together, and Jonghyun doesn’t know who he wants to sit with, because he loves them all so much and there’s only two bus rides, but then Jongin shoulders past them and finds a seat before grinning at Taemin for him to come sit. Taemin grumbles a bit, something about not getting a window seat, but he easily fits in Jongin’s lap, a poorly bitten back grin on his lips. Minho is next to go sit, taking the aisle seat and twining his fingers with Jongin’s as they begin to speak in low voices.

Key, unlike the rest of them, doesn’t hesitate at all to sit between two strangers, and they almost immediately get their phone and earbuds before closing their eyes to sleep. And that’s the choice mostly made for him, but Jonghyun is upset, because he likes sitting in Taemin’s lap, but Jongin is the warmest always, but Minho feels so safe, but Jinki would make him feel warm and fuzzy and loved, and he doesn’t know who he wants to sit with.

He doesn’t realize that he’s pouting until Jinki calls for him, and when he reaches out a hand, Jonghyun takes it easily, pout deepening as he says, “I wanted to sit in Jonginnie’s lap.”

Taemin laughs a little, but Jonghyun is too focused on looking soft and pouty and cute to pay him any mind. “You’re cute, Jonghyunnie. Do you want to trade?”

And Jonghyun does, but Jinki’s lap is the best when he wants to play, and...he’s definitely in the mood for that. “Nuh-uh,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “Don’t want to take it from you…” and there’s more, but he can’t say.

“You can sit in my lap on the way home tomorrow, okay?” Jongin asks. His head rests on Taemin’s shoulder, and he grins up at Jonghyun, warmth clear in his voice. And that’s good, that’s very good.

“You can sit in my lap for now, Jonghyunnie.” Jinki tugs at Jonghyun’s waist as he speaks, and Jonghyun’s breath hitches because this is what he wanted, to feel soft and small for Jinki. They shuffle into the seat next to Jongin and Taemin, Jonghyun sitting neatly in Jinki’s lap with Jinki’s arms wrapped tight around him. “Better, baby?”

“Uh huh,” Jonghyun mumbles. His cheeks feel like they’re burning, and he shifts to get comfortable, nodding even though Jinki heard the first time.

Jinki’s fingers play with the hem of his shirt and he hums a little, clearly proud. “Good...my good baby boy.”

If Jinki notices the arousal settling low in Jonghyun’s stomach, he doesn’t say anything, just hums again as Jonghyun shifts to curl more into him as he whines. He doesn’t really pay attention to what the others are doing, just shifts again, partially to get comfortable and mostly because...Jinki. Jinki is here, and Jonghyun is in his lap, and there’s so much that they could get away with.

And it’s not really on purpose, but Jonghyun starts squirming again, just thinking about what they could do here, what they could get away with. And there’s so much, and they’re right here, and Jonghyun has thought about something like this, told Jinki between whimpers and Jinki’s coos of praise. Taemin glances over then and smiles a little, but it’s sharp around the edges and Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat because Taemin, he wants to suck Taemin off, wants Jinki to finger him and wants Taemin to keep him quiet with a co*ck in his mouth. But they can’t, not here and not now, so Jonghyun bites down on his lower lip and shakes his head.

But his movements have woken Jinki up, and Jinki hums low in his throat, the way he always does when he teases, and Jonghyun wants. He doesn’t even realize that he’s squirming until Jinki’s grip tightens and he mumbles, “Jonghyunnie?”

The noise that falls from Jonghyun’s lips is broken and breathy, and he shifts again, mostly on purpose now. “I...sorry, daddy.” And it’s strange to throw the word out like that, strange and scary and thrilling, because people could hear.

Even just thinking about that makes Jonghyun feel flushed, and he shakes his head a little, gnawing at his lip as he tries to decide what to say. “I...I can go sit somewhere else?” he asks, even though that’s not what he wants, not at all. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Jinki says yes, because the only laps he can sit in are Key and Minho, and they’re both busy and he wants Jinki.

“Did I say you could?” As Jinki speaks, his grip tightens further, and he tugs Jonghyun back so they’re pressed flush together. It’s all too reminiscent of all the times Jonghyun has sat in Jinki’s lap, skin on skin, and Jonghyun shakes.

“No-” And there’s more that he wants to say, but then Jinki holds him with only one arm, and Jonghyun’s breath catches in his throat because he’s so small compared to Jinki, to all of them. His other hand falls to his thigh, and Jinki’s thumb rubs entirely too close to Jonghyun’s co*ck, already hard, already aching. His hips shift a little, and a too-loud moan threatens to slip out, but Jonghyun bites that back and instead asks, “Daddy?”

Jinki noses into Jonghyun’s ear, lips brushing the back of his neck when he says, “Yes baby?”

And that gives Jonghyun just a little bit of boldness, just enough to say, “Daddy, you’re teasing.” He can’t help wiggling again, more to see if Jinki is hard, and he is. He’s hard, and Jonghyun’s hard, and it would be so easy for Jinki to tug down his pants and f*ck into him-

“Am I? You started it, baby boy, squirming around on daddy’s lap. Do you want to tell me why you were doing that, hm?”

And it’s like he knew, and Jonghyun can’t help making a noise this time. He’s not being subtle anymore either, openly grinding his ass back into Jinki’s crotch, waiting and hoping that Jinki will do something, anything.

“Did you want daddy’s co*ck, hm?” Jinki asks, and his voice is so mild that Jonghyun pouts. He wants Jinki to feel what he does, wants Jinki to f*ck him now. “Did you want daddy to let you ride him right here for everyone to see?”

Another wave of heat shudders through Jonghyun’s stomach and he nods eagerly, gasping out a plea for it and hoping.

“So needy,” And now Jinki squeezes Jonghyun’s inner thigh, fingers close close close, but he doesn’t do anything else, not until Jonghyun shifts again - he parts Jonghyun’s legs, just a little, and it’s so easy that Jonghyun’s mind fills in the details, Jinki spreading him wide and f*cking into him easy, quieting his mouth and holding his hips. Everyone watching, taking turns. Being good for them all, for Jinki, for his coven. “Quiet, baby boy, you’re so noisy when you’re needy like this.”

And Jonghyun can’t help it, and Jinki knows that. “Daddy,” he whines, “daddy, please.” Jinki squeezes his thigh, and then there’s a soft wave of want, Jinki’s own.

“Please what? Please f*ck you?” Jinki laughs a little, and Jonghyun pouts. “Baby, you couldn’t be quiet. Everyone would look - they already are, baby boy. Taeminnie and Minho and Jonginnie, they’ve all noticed you.”

Jonghyun nearly chokes on his breath, glancing around quickly and making another needy noise when he sees Taemin and Jongin looking, approval and amusem*nt clear in their smiles.

“Bet Tae would let you, hm?” And Jinki’s whispering now, lips brushing his ear when he speaks. “You know how he is, bet he’d let you get on your knees on the floor of this bus and suck him off right here. Get Jonginnie to f*ck you open…” and Jinki keeps the thought open, because there’s still Minho, and Key, and everyone else, all these strangers.

Jinki hums and his fingers let up, rubbing his leg in soothing circles as he puts out waves of calm that Jonghyun melts into. And it’s only now that Jonghyun realizes that he’s shaking, trembling in Jinki’s hold, definitely noticeable. He doesn’t want to calm down though, wants more of this, more of Jinki. “Daddy, please.”

Another quiet hum, and Jinki’s smiling, Jonghyun can tell. “Please what?” And now it’s Jinki that shifts, and it’s perfect this way because Jonghyun can feel him, hardening and right there, pressing against his ass and it’d be so easy to just…”Is this what you want, baby boy?”

“Yes,” Jonghyun gasps out, and he’s grinding down again, needy and uncaring to whether he’s being obvious. He feels like he’s about to cry, with Jinki’s hand stroking his thigh and co*ck hard against his ass, and he doesn’t care. “Daddy, please-”

And there’s the intercom, saying something that Jonghyun can barely comprehend. Jinki hums though, lets go of Jonghyun completely, and Jonghyun pouts.

“Do you want to be good for daddy?” Jinki asks then, and what kind of question is that? Jonghyun nods, eager and almost frantic, and then Jinki reaches up to touch him, hand brushing against his co*ck before he lets go for good now. “Then be a good boy. Wait a little longer and daddy will f*ck you as soon as we’re there, hm?”

And no, that’s not what Jonghyun wants, he doesn’t want to wait, but...they’re almost here, and Jinki will f*ck him when they’re in private. Jonghyun decides he can live with that, and he nods, even if a pout fixes itself on his lips as he does. He’s still trembling a little, he thinks, but Jinki is still holding him, and that’s what’s important.

Finally, finally, the bus stops, and Jonghyun twists around to look Jinki in the eye because he’s still hard, and it’s noticeable, but Jinki just grins in that way that means he’s not going to do anything about it. Jonghyun whines, but Jinki’s smile only grows, and he leans in for a quick kiss that leaves Jonghyun breathless and trembling, wanting and wanting and wanting. Key glances over at them then and they sigh as they stand, leaning across the others to kiss Jonghyun’s forehead and smooth their hand through his hair. “You two are so obvious,” but they’re fond, Jonghyun can tell, “I’ll get the others. Go take care of Jonghyunnie.”

The double meaning has Jonghyun whining, but Jinki just squeezes Jonghyun’s waist as they tell Key, “Don’t worry.” And the words are clearly aimed at Jonghyun even if they’re said to Key, but Jonghyun still wants, still needs, and he whines again, hips jerking back when Jinki continues speaking. “I will.”