Work Text:
It had been a bad idea, he was convinced of that now.
Why had he agreed to this again? Oh, yes, his stupid pride wouldn't allow him to back out now that he'd officially lost. He'd been so fucking sure of winning the damn bet, so when Seungmin (Kim Seungmin, agent of chaos, lord of mischief, Kim fucking Seungmin) had suggested the loser get a piercing, winner’s choice of placement, he hadn't even hesitated to agree! He'd been absolutely sure in his victory.
The resulting howl from Seungmin and Hyunjin at his loss was downright demonic. Hyunjin was quick to bow and back away in apology at the icy glare leveled at him, but Minho was screwed.
The piercing artist had been nothing but professional, chattering away as he set up his equipment. Minho had felt apprehensive when he saw the freaking size of the needle, and was glad he was alone in the back room, not needing an audience for his misfortune. The others were waiting out in the lobby, but he'd refused any of them to come in the back with him. The piercer babbled away about this and that and everything in between, distracting Minho so thoroughly that before he knew it, he'd already pierced the first one. He'd barely noticed it, feeling only a pinch when the needle was replaced with the steel barbell. 2 minutes later he was done, staring at his reflection in the wall hung mirror, two shiny new nipple piercings adorning his chest. The piercer wrapped him up and gave him care instructions before sending him out, to loud cheers from his entourage.
The experience itself hadn't been so bad. He'd been prepared for it hurting a little, and it being an unusual feeling. The bet made it clear you couldn't take the piercing out until a month had passed, and he was nothing if not stubborn, he'd not chicken out. He could deal with the pain, he'd been prepared for it. What he hadn't counted on, was the added sensitivity.
Minho had a few really sensitive spots on his person, and the only place really easily accessible to anyone was his chest. There had been far too many instances where he'd been in danger of exposing just how sensitive his chest really was (even on camera), but this was getting ridiculous.
He'd really noticed it the first time after switching over to shorter barbells once 2 weeks had passed. It wasn't really painful anymore, and he'd stopped religiously checking the piercing for signs of infection. He and Jisung had been walking outside after getting lunch, and it had been a sunny day, one of those first really warm spring days, the kind that hint at summer being just around the corner, so he'd left his jacket inside. A sudden chilly breeze wasn't unseasonable or unexpected, but how it had felt against his chest was. The full body shiver was easy enough to explain away to a slightly bewildered Jisung. The tiny moan that had escaped him, not so much. He'd all but ignored Jisung, double-timing it back to the JYP building, and hoped his red ears weren't too visible in the bright sunshine.
It kept happening over the next couple of weeks. Breezes, an accidental touch, certain clothes... it was all too much. He felt like he was walking around sporting a semi 24/7! He felt raw, exposed, as if everyone was looking and could read his mind and knew! The arousal coursed through him at the most inopportune times, and he was practically developing callouses on his hands, with how often he had to excuse himself to 'take care of something' lately. It was driving him insane, he was counting down the remaining days until he could take them out, hoping whatever this was, wasn’t a permanent change.
The final nail in the coffin had been the dance practice, half a week left of his torture. They'd been at it for a few hours as a full group, and he was drenched in sweat. The fabric of his t-shirt clung to him, even heavier than usual with the moisture, rubbing him raw. He was looking at the clock, willing time to go by faster. Just as they were getting ready to break up for the day, Seungmin and Jeongin approached him to stay behind with them to practice some more. He couldn't come up with any real reason (or any reason he'd admit to out loud at least) why not to, and despite his grumbling, he was always there if any of his dongsaengs ever needed something from him, so he simply nodded and put his bag down. The two youngest members had missed the last two practices due to individual schedules, and he felt responsible as the main dancer to catch them up to speed after all.
It was quite late in the day, so while the rest of the group packed up to head back to the dorms, Minho guzzled down a bottle of water while trying to ignore the way his t-shirt rubbed against his chest.
Jeongin and Seungmin weren't bad dancers by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren't as quick on picking up choreo as some of the others. One of the dancers often helped them out when the need arose, this was nothing new for Minho. However, the new choreo was adding to his problem in a way he hadn't anticipated until now.
He was doing a part that wasn't his in the actual formation, playing the shoe-in right now so they could get their parts right. Stepping between the two, timing his movements to the beat, Minho let his head fall back and fanned his arms out. Right on cue Jeongin and Seungmin brought their arms towards him, grabbing onto each shoulder, moving in sync in a half crouch, sliding their palms from his shoulder in and down, over his collarbones, down to his pecs.
He moaned.
It was as if time froze, and them with it. The music kept playing, but no one made to continue the dance. They remained frozen, their hands gripping his chest on each side. He didn't dare to breathe, he could feel his ears burning, and he was determinedly looking at the floor. The song ended and the silence that followed was deafening.
"Hyung?" Minho whipped his head to the side, the movement causing the hand on his left peck to squeeze. He bit his lip so hard to stop any more sounds escaping, he was surprised he didn't taste blood.
His eyes met Seungmin's, his adrenaline spiking. The knowing look Seungmin gave him, the lazy smirk spreading across his face, the way his eyes grew heavy and dark, Minho's breath stuttered. He was about to take a step back, away, when he felt another hand at his lower back. His head was spinning, and he turned his head to the other side, a low whimper at the back of his throat. His eyes widened impossibly more when his eyes met Jeongin's. They were curved in that characteristic fox-like way they did when he smiled, but this was the grin of a predator eyeing the cornered prey, reveling in the fact that his next meal has nowhere left to run. Minho gulped, his head swiveling back and forth between the two men (when had they gotten so close?) , confusion and arousal churning in his gut.
Seungmin tilted his head to the side, eyeing him up and down. Minho closed his eyes praying to whatever merciful god there was, not to get hard right now. He could feel the blood already rushing south, making him feel light headed. Seungmin's other hand joined Jeongin's on his back, crowding into him even more. Minho's eyes flew open with a gasp when he felt Jeongin squeeze his peck, with purpose. Whatever Minho had been about to say, morphed into a loud whine when Seungmin, deciding this was the perfect timing, rubbed his thumb over his nipple straining against the moist fabric.
"Fuck- God!" Minho choked out, feeling dizzy, no blood left in his brain for any coherent thoughts.
"You can call me Jeongin." Minho could feel him grinning against his throat, (when the fuck had he gotten so close?!) suddenly kissing against the column. Through no active decision, Minho tilted his head to the side with a sigh, giving him better access. He'd deny having done any such thing later.
Seungmin dragged the hand not doing sinful things to his chest, eliciting little gasps and moans, up his back, grasping the back of his neck in a firm grip. Minho allowed him to steer his head towards him, meeting his eyes again. Seungmin's gaze flickered down to Minho's lips, and as if on cue, he let his tongue peak out to moisten them. Seungmin lifted his eyes, the question in them loud as he moved glacially slow towards Minho, inching closer but giving him an out if he really wanted it. Minho looked at Seungmin's lips (he'd always thought Seungmin had a very nice set of lips) and moved almost imperceptibly forward. That was all the encouragement Seungmin needed, he surged forward, pulling Minho towards him by the back of his neck, molding their lips against each other. He swallowed the obscene moan Minho let out, taking the opportunity of Minho's parted lips, to invade his mouth with his tongue.
Minho was vaguely aware of movement to his side, behind him, but his brain did a funny kind of short circuit when Seungmin sucked on the tip of his tongue, while simultaneously rubbing his thumb along his pulse point, so it didn't fully register.
Minho broke the kiss with a gasp when he felt chilly fingers rucking up his shirt to stroke over his lower abdomen, right along the top of his sweats. Jeongin rested his chin on his shoulder from behind, nudging Seungmin's hand out of the way with his nose, requesting access to Minho's neck. Seungmin obliged, and Jeongin hummed in delight, leaving open mouthed kisses up and down Minho's thundering pulse, tasting his erratic heartbeat. His fingers remained almost idle against Minho's skin, barely moving in place, making tiny patterns against his stomach. It was infuriating, and frustrating, and perfect all at the same time.
Seungmin nudged his chin up, slotting his face in the junction between his neck and shoulder on the opposite side, his hands, both now on Minho's hips, pulling them flush against each other. Minho hissed at the answering hardness pressing against his own, Seungmin groaned low in the back of his throat. He bit down on Minho's skin to muffle the noise, making Minho whimper out loud. His ears burned, but his hands were too preoccupied to silence himself. One had found its way to the back of Jeongin's neck, his fingers tangled in his ginger tresses, pulling him closer, or trying to pull him away; he wasn't quite sure which it was right now. Maybe both.
The other was gripping Seungmin's bicep so tight it was sure to leave bruises, trying to anchor himself, his knees feeling weak, threatening to bail on their job of holding him up at any minute.
Minho's legs gave out when Jeongin's idle hands stopped being idle, and, rucking his shirt up even further, made their way up his torso to cup at his chest, sans any cotton barrier. Jeongin's hands felt like they burned against Minho's skin, despite always being a little cold. It felt wonderful and terrible at the same time, like ice against his too hot skin, making him draw in a sharp breath between his teeth.
Jeongin chuckled behind him, widening his stance so as to support his weight better, and Seungmin moved even closer, gripping his hips more firmly. Minho was sandwiched between them, effectively being held up by them at this point, his legs about as useful as overcooked noodles. He was dimly aware of someone panting and whining loudly. Realizing he was the culprit brought a fresh wave of embarrassment, washing over him, threatening to drown him.
He was surprised he had enough blood in his system to fuel both the volcanic blush in his cheeks, while also having enough to spare for the raging hard-on in his sweatpants; something he became acutely aware of when Seungmin took a step forward, moving them backwards, the sudden friction making Minho tremble. Jeongin got what Seungmin was trying to do, which was a good thing, because Minho's brain had long since stopped braining.
The two of them somehow managed to maneuver the trio over to the couch against the wall without falling over. Jeongin sat down, smoothly pulling Minho along, arranging him on his lap as if he were a rag-doll. To be fair, Minho felt about as aware as a rag doll would be, head full of cotton, good only for stuffing.
Jeongin ran one hand all the way up his chest and out through the neck of his t-shirt, wrapping his long slender finger around his throat, pulling Minho towards him, licking into his mouth with a moan. Minho sighed through his nose and closed his eyes, enthralled by the taste of him – raspberry mint and something distinctly Jeongin. The notion made him moan against the Jeongin's lips, earning him a chuckle. They broke apart, Minho's eyes heavy lidded and dazed, his lips parted slightly, his breath coming in short pants. A string of saliva still connecting their puffy lips.
Jeongin looked up then, and Minho, a little slower on the uptake, followed suit.
Seungmin was looking down at them, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes impossibly dark, his pants distinctly tented. He exchanged a look with Jeongin that Minho didn't understand. They often did that, speaking without words, like a secret twin telepathy thing, but without having shared a womb. Minho's musings stopped short in their tracks, when, without a word, Seungmin uncrossed his arms, and fell to his knees in front of them. Minho gaped at the move; it had no business being that hot.
He'd seen Seungmin on his knees more times than he could count, but not like this. Not with his eyes practically devouring every inch of exposed skin in front of him. Not with a feral grin across his face, making him resemble a vicious wolf dog, rather than a cute golden retriever puppy. Seungmin scooted forward on his knees, bringing his hands up to the waistband of Minho's pants. He pulled them down his hips, almost yanking him off Jeongin's lap in the process.
They all froze for a split second, Minho covering his eyes with his hand with an embarrassed whine.
He often went commando, it was nothing new. The weather had been heating up so he hadn't felt like chafing during practice because of the heat, so when he'd gotten dressed that morning, he'd abandoned his boxers, enjoying the freedom.
"Hyung..." that one word, spoken so intimately against his ear, with a teasing, yet accusatory lilt to it made him shiver. He threw his head back, turning it to the side in embarrassment. He tried to close his legs, but he didn't get very far; a pair of hands gripped his knees, forcing them back apart, and Jeongin brought his legs in-between Minho's, spreading his own knees, effectively forcing Minho's legs to remain open. Minho whined louder, giving up the fight - Jeongin had the higher ground, and even if his thighs were stronger under normal circumstances, in this position, he didn't stand a chance.
He felt more than saw Seungmin unlacing his sneakers, removing them, and pulling his pants all the way off. He squinted his eyes open when he heard the sound of fabric hitting something - Seungmin had tossed the pants over to the side, toppling a water bottle. Minho's eyes were suddenly drawn to the reflection in front of him. With a loud squeak, he tried to close his legs again unsuccessfully, squeezing his eyes shut tight. It didn't help, it was as if the image was superimposed onto his retinas; the image of him sprawled out on Jeongin's lap, bare from the waist down, his shirt rucked up all the way to his armpits, making him appear all but naked, his legs spread obscenely wide, his cock hard and red between them. Jeongin's feral grin over his shoulder. Seungmin on his knees in front of them, his hands running up Minho's pale thighs, his head moving forward...
"Hnnngh!" Minho grit his teeth and groaned loudly. He leveled a shocked glare at Seungmin. Seungmin responded with a shit eating grin before swiping his wet tongue along the length of Minho's cock once more, taking the tip into his mouth, suckling on the sensitive head. Minho's hips bucked up of their own accord, his voice strained from trying to hold back any more sounds, which was proving to be a herculean task. Seungmin seemed to be trying his utmost to coax all the sounds he could out of him, Jeongin being his enthusiastic partner in crime. Minho was fucked.
Jeongin grinned down at Seungmin, that silent exchange happening again, before bringing one of his hands to his mouth. Wetting his thumb thoroughly, he brought it down to flick at Minho's sensitive nipple, making Minho arch his back and buck wildly.
"Gah! Iyen-ah!" He cried out, his voice sounding raw and fucked out even to his own ears. Jeongin grinned wider, humming noncommittally in response, squeezing the hardened bud between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling gently at it, mindful of the metal running through it.
Minho's throat was going dry from all the moans and gasps, try as he might (and he really was trying very hard) he couldn't stop any of them.
The maknae duo, once they teamed up, were unstoppable. It was something Minho usually admired a great deal about them, how once they put their heads together, and combined their resolve, almost nothing was beyond them, given enough time. Being on the receiving end of that resolve, especially when the end goal seemed to be to leave him a cock-drunk, bumbling mess however, made Minho suddenly fear for his sanity, what little was left of it anyway.
He was having a hard time keeping up with just how they'd gotten here, how he'd never noticed this kind of interest from the younger members. He was a master at poker facing, and was rather proud of himself for not having let on about his own interests towards them, towards any of them... now he was beginning to have doubts, second guessing just how effective his poker face was. Did they know? Had he somehow let it slip? Have any of the others noticed? Any further thoughts on the subject evacuated his mind with haste when he felt a warm, wet tongue in a spot where a warm wet anything had no business being.
"Seungmin-ah!" Minho choked on the last part, his body curving in on itself, trying to get away. Seungmin yanked at his hips with a dissatisfied growl, essentially bending him in half for better access, his mouth never leaving Minho's flushed skin.
Minho's eyes swam with embarrassed unshed tears, his vision going white at the edges. A pathetic whimper the only sound he could make, he was holding on to Jeongin under him as best as he could, feeling Seungmin's tongue taking him apart. Jeongin smiled sympathetically down at him, a fond quirk of the lips, in direct contrast to the hand wrapping around Minho's hard cock, giving it a lazy pump, Making Minho cry out. Jeongin squeezed his fist on the way up, making precum dribble out, an obscene squelching sound growing louder as he increased the pace. He swallowed Minhos next moan in a rough kiss, biting at his already swollen lips, making Minho feel dizzy from lack of oxygen
"I -" Minho gasped, breaking the kiss. Trying to form words was hard, his brain was lagging.
"You?" Seungmin paused his ministrations to look up, his lips and chin glistening lewdly in the overhead light.
Minho panted, trying to catch his breath, trying to gather his thoughts, a feat that was near impossible with the way Jeongin's hands tightened over and over in his hair, sending jolts of electricity along his scalp; with the way Seungmin stroked his thumb lazily through the saliva cooling against Minho's rim, almost as if by accident. Minho cleared his throat and tried again.
"I want- Fuck!" Seungmin, the fucking brat, chose that moment to push with his thumb, breaching the loosened ring of muscle.
"You want..? Jeongin grinned.
"...Fuck?" Seungmin supplied helpfully, mouthing at Minho's inner thigh, looking up at him. Seungmin's thumb was still in a place his thumb had no business being, pushing gently at the wet opening, but not really going any further, waiting for Minho to finish.
Minho felt like crying, he could feel his eyes going glossy with frustration. They were actually going to make him say it, the fucking brats. He grit his teeth, huffing through his nose, willing the angry tears not to fall.
"Come on hyung, use your words." Jeongin whispered against his ear, loud enough for Seungmin to also hear, judging by his laughter against Minho's leg. Minho felt like screaming. His own words being used against him like this! The nerve! The audacity!
Minho often made the youngest member voice what he needed and wanted from his hyungs, having learned early on that miscommunication was bound to happen in such a large group. They'd all benefited from being more upfront and honest with each other, the youngest member often being the most stubborn about it, and needing a gentle coaxing, and a reminder that they weren't mind readers, and he had to use his words... He was the spawn of Satan as far as Minho was concerned at this moment. How the fuck was he expected to find any words, let alone the right ones, when Jeongin had followed up his request with stroking his fingertips over both of Minhos nipples, a barely there touch that was like liquid fire against his overly sensitive peaks.
Minho buried his face in Jeongin's neck with a groan, mumbling his answer against his clavicle.
"What was that?" Seungmin, devil spawn number 2, smiled, his mouth having moved up Minho's thigh to mouth at his balls. Minho felt the vibrations of his voice against them, making him shiver again.
He groaned, biting down on his tongue to stop any more mortifying sounds spilling forth. He squirmed in place, feeling Jeongin's hard cock twitch against him in interest, and yet Jeongin made no move to do more than continue unraveling his sanity, one flick of his fingers at a time. Seungmin's breath, hot and moist against Minho's taint – Minho felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, his breath coming in ragged puffs.
"I wanna cum!" He sobbed finally, glaring back and forth between them, his angry expression morphing into a pleading one, his lip and voice trembling.
"Make me cum..." Minho bowed his head in embarrassment. Jeongin's insistent hand under his chin coaxed him to look up again eventually. Only after Jeongin pleaded with him, whispering “Please” over and over again against his face, punctuating each plea with a kiss, did Minho meet his eye.
"Good boy, hyung." Jeongin grinned, making Minho splutter in response, wishing a black hole would materialize out of thin air, and swallow him whole. Jeongin's lips when he kissed him again were pulled into a tender smile, Minho could feel the rumble of his laugh against his mouth.
Minho melted into the kiss, his embarrassment evaporating like morning dew when the sun hits it, the onslaught of sensations flooding his system leaving no room for such trivial things.
Seungmin took him fully into his mouth, being able to fit an exorbitant amount before choking, but never fully letting up the sinful glide of his tongue and hands. Jeongin kissed him like a man starved finally being presented with a 5 course meal, devouring him, barely letting their lips part for gasps of air. One of Jeongin's hands tangled in the hair at the back of Minho's head, fisting it and pulling him closer, the other alternating between his poor puffy nipples, making him whimper pathetically between kisses.
Minho’s clutching at Jeongin's shirt with one hand, his knuckles white at the force with which he gripped the material. The other fisted against his thigh, his nails leaving little crescent shapes where he gripped the skin. Seungmin grabbed the hand, guiding it up to his own head, squeezing Minho's hand against his hair. Minho pulled away from the kiss, meeting his heated gaze with a shuddering breath. He experimentally pulled at Seungmin's hair, practically sobbing at the way Seungmin moaned against his cock, his eyes rolling back into his skull.
Jeongin bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on Minho's neck just then, and the sensory overload finally sent Minho over the edge. He came with a cry, his fist tightening in Seungmin's hair, his thighs tensing and trembling, his abs spasming, head thrown back, looking the picture of ecstasy.
Jeongin held his limp quivering form, whispering sweet nothings against his damp temple. Seungmin kept sucking at him, making sure to catch every drop, swallowing loudly and finally pulling off once Minho started to squirm and whine at the oversensitivity. Seungmin stuck his tongue out with a grin, showing how it was all gone, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. Minho blanched, his mouth ajar, looking dumbly at the devil spawn before him. Seungmin licked one last time at the sensitive head, making Minho yelp and jerk away. Jeongin barked out a laugh, squeezing Minho tighter against him.
"Really?!" They froze in place, three heads whipping towards the voice by the door. Minho scrambled in a panic with an undignified shriek, sliding unceremoniously off Jeongin's lap, trying to hide behind Seungmin while frantically scanning the room for his pants.
"You promised you'd wait for me! Jisung slunk over, whining at the injustice. He plopped himself down next to Jeongin, throwing one leg over his lap, leveling him with his best upset pout.
"Sorry Sungie, you were taking forever!" Jeongin ruffled Jisung's hair affectionately, chuckling at Jisung's affronted expression.
"Early bird gets the worm!" Seungmin chimed in, turning around to gather a completely dumbfounded Minho in his arms. Minho let himself be pulled into his lap, pants, or lack thereof, momentarily forgotten. Staring between the three of them, his synapses firing awfully slow today, for some strange reason.
"...Wait for you?" he whispered, almost as if to himself. His brain was frantically trying to catch up, trying to fit Jisung's words into something that made sense in the grand scheme of whatever this day had contorted into. He looked up at Jisung, finding him staring back, a light blush across his cheeks, a surprising contrast to the hunger in his eyes. His dark eyes grew hooded, and the look he leveled at Minho, made something squirm in his lower belly, his spent cock making a valiant effort at taking up the gauntlet. Minho gulped at the way Jisung wrapped his fingers around Jeongin's jaw, a new wave of electricity building in the room.
Devil spawn number three went through Minho's mind. As if he could read his thoughts, Jisung grinned, leaning over to kiss at Jeongin's neck, making him moan quietly.
They broke apart after much too short a time for Minho's liking, and protesting whine finding its way past his slack jaw, much to the others amusement. He'd be absolutely mortified about it later, now being thoroughly distracted from said mortification by Seungmin's lips all over his neck.
Minho became dimly aware through his hazy thoughts, of two bodies sliding off the couch down to the floor. Any more thoughts were effectively erased when he felt three bodies press in around him, three pairs of hands divest him of his last article of clothing, and three pairs of lips made him cry out.
Maybe these piercings hadn't been such a bad idea after all...