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There’s a manor in the woods that sometimes doesn’t exist.
Sometimes, if folk do find it, they don’t remember a single thing after stepping foot down the old dirt road at the edge of town. Sometimes, they don’t come back. Either way, the only people who go out there are the ones stupid enough to try and figure it out.
The letter is still in Namjoon’s breast pocket of his flannel, paper pressed and crinkled from the number of times he’d pulled it out to re-read the pen scrawled across the page. It hadn’t been the only thing the sender had written, but it was the most interesting part; and, he thought, the one that had been just intriguing enough for his boss to send him out to Addams River- also known as the middle of fucking nowhere- to investigate.
He could see the way Namjoon- approaching thirty, trapped behind the tiny desk repurposed from an old school desk- was slowly withering away with the same dull stories day in and day out.
There was only so much enthusiasm one could muster for Mrs. Fewter over on Jubilee putting in a bi-weekly ad for a maid, or the odd wedding announcement- fewer now than they were a year prior- instead giving way to baby showers or birth announcements. Small town events and dramas and everyday living that were slowly suffocating Namjoon’s aspirations to move out of the small rural town to the big city to pursue journalism for the likes of the New York Times.
These days, it felt a lot like his glasses would permanently attach to the bridge of his nose with how often he buried his face into his hands and tried not to scream.
Granted, looking back on it now, Namjoon couldn’t say that this was quite what his boss had meant when he hauled him up by the arm, pushed the train ticket into his hands, and ushered him off to a backwoods town with disappearing manors, but- beggars couldn’t be choosers.
He’d been met at the train by one of the locals- a grumpy older man with a wiry beard and a scar down the left side of his neck he attributed to a bad run in with a bear in his youth. He’d been rather close lipped about who had sent the initial letter; whether due to the topic or simply because he was a bit of a bastard if Namjoon had ever met one, he couldn’t say for sure.
(Hearing someone call him “Lurch” in passing had, perhaps, put some things into perspective.)
Still, he’d put him up in his motel. Namjoon’s room was home to plenty of wood paneling, green shag carpet, and several taxidermy squirrels that stared at him with glassy eyes every time he had to pass below them to get to the bathroom.
Charming.
After a breakfast at the diner- one in which he’d suffered through only for the coffee due to the rather forward advances of the older waitress- he’d returned to his room, packed his handheld recorder and notebook into the pocket of his oilskin jacket, and warily glanced at the cloudy skies before headed out for the abandoned road at the edge of town.
Surrounded by the mountains, he wasn’t naïve enough to think the present weather- autumnal, cool, the trees bursting with yellows and oranges- wasn’t capable of turning on a dime.
He hadn’t actually anticipated actually getting caught in it, but Namjoon had also not intended to be out so late.
The problem lay, primarily, in that he was distinctly aware of the path he’d started on was no longer the same path he was currently trekking. Not for lack of effort, either; he’d come prepared enough, marked down notes with his short pencil the further in he hiked, careful not to let himself get complacent.
And yet. Here he was, huddled under the canopy of the trees as he jogged from cover to cover, the rain sheeting sideways with the force of the wind and soaking the back of his neck and shoulders.
The gate seemed to appear out of nowhere, wrought iron and stone that stretched as far as Namjoon could make out through the rain in his eyes. Ivy curled up and around the supports, plants that had to be years old to match the architecture of the metal ornaments he could squint to see perched on each pillar.
To his credit, Namjoon had been keeping his head low in an attempt to try and conserve as much body heat as he could (and protect his recorder), but even so, it’s the last thing he expected to just… stumble onto under the circumstances. Clenching his teeth in an attempt to keep his them from chattering, he uncurled from his vaguely tortoise-like posture to push at the surprisingly well-kept gate. It gave way easily under his palm, swinging wide with a short creak that was quickly swallowed by the next gust of wind, burrowing right up the back of Namjoon’s legs and under his jacket.
Despite the gate appearing to be in good shape, Namjoon still didn’t have high hopes of finding anyone actually occupying the manor before him as he squished his way up the lane to the front doors; even if the landscaping was quite nice. He politely ignored what appeared to be a cemetery beyond the low hedge to his left; what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and even if it did now was hardly the time to be nosy about it.
The manor loomed above him- distinctly gothic in style in the way the peaks of the roof and columns around the windows arched and swept. If he wasn’t soaked to the bone, Namjoon thought he could spend hours just taking notes and studying the architecture. Honestly, it looked more like a small castle than a manor- either way, it had the easy elegance of old money written all over it.
From what “Lurch” had mentioned offhandedly, as far as anyone knew- the manor and grounds had been long since abandoned; rumor at best, given how few first-hand accounts were available to draw on. Anyone who had made it out of the woods again were quick to disappear after giving their statements to the police.
The grounds very well could be abandoned, if the cemetery was any indications, but Namjoon was willing to risk it as he lifted his hand to knock on the dark wood of the door. The knockers were brass, ornate squirrels curled around oaken branches instead of something more brutish. His fingers haven’t so much as brushed them when it swings open without warning, revealing quite possibly the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.
Oh my god, thighs. He couldn’t help but think, mind going blank at the sight of lean thighs clad in perfectly tailored trousers. He’s also wearing a silken black shirt and a thick waistcoat; charming, in an eccentric sort of way.
“Goodness, aren’t you forward?” the man purrs, looking absolutely delighted. Namjoon felt his cheeks flush- apparently his inward thoughts hadn’t been entirely contained. “But my word, what are you doing out in this weather? Come in, come in- Hoseok, we have a guest!”
“You’re Korean?” Namjoon asked, unable to keep his teeth from clacking together as he stepped onto the dark hardwood floors after the slightly taller man.
“Well, yes. I suppose so. So are you.” the beautiful man replies. “Hobi!”
Later, Namjoon will blame it on the cold, the way it felt like a curtain being drawn over his thoughts, mind feeling like it’d shifted ever so slightly on an axis. It was enough that he skipped a step, faltering for a moment.
The door closed firmly behind him, though he couldn’t recall seeing anyone else beyond the beautiful man. It becomes a bit of a blur, being ushered into the sitting room, following behind the click-clack of Jin’s boots- when did he introduce himself?- the echo oddly familiar as he’s led into a sitting room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the grounds. Just beyond the rain draining off the overhand, he could see the gate leading back out to the woods, the dirt road that looked too old but too new curling around the fence until it seemed to blur and disappear.
Namjoon blinked; another beautiful man with a heart shaped smile and a shag cut pulled into a top knot, honey blond and warm- was helping towel him off, handing him clothing that smelt like it’d been freshly washed but looked a hundred years outdated. There was no denying the quality of the fabric as he pulled them on, well tailored and comfortable and, most importantly, warm and dry.
Hobi and Jin fuss and cluck over him in easy company, telling him how odd it is the weather turned, but then again, the weather’s always been odd around these parts since that encounter with a witch, don’t you remember, darling?-
There’s something about the way they’re speaking that made something niggle in the back of Namjoon’s mind, but it’s quickly swept away as a slip of the tongue, allowing himself to be guided to sit at a massive table that does absolutely nothing to prevent the way the couple are openly flirting over a meal fit for twenty instead of three was brought out. Easily, too, like it was the most natural thing in the world; maybe it was, but Namjoon couldn’t say he’d ever been around anyone so openly queer before.
“So, what brings you out to this part of the country? We don’t often see fresh blood out here.” Hobi smiled, sipping at his glass of wine delicately with a glint in his eye Namjoon couldn’t help but feel flustered by.
“Journalism, mostly.” He offered. “I’m a writer.”
There was that odd tingle in the back of his mind again- like he was forgetting something but didn’t know what-
“The arts! A man after my own heart.” Jin sighed dramatically, winking as he leaned over to entwine his fingers with Hobi’s. “I’ve tried and failed to get this one to enjoy literature as much as I do, but alas, I’m afraid it’s a lost cause. I’ve long since had to reconcile I’ve lost him to the performing arts.”
“I’m a dancer- rather, was- a dancer.” Hobi provided when Namjoon made a confused sound around a mouthful of roast chicken. “Unfortunately, I suffered a knee injury and was… forced to retire, you could say. But oh, I loved it; the stage will always been my first and last home, I think.”
“It’s how we met.” Jin continued smoothly, fond affection in the curve of his cheek as he stroked a thumb over Hoseok’s hand, lifting them to press a soft kiss to the skin there. “Terribly scandalous for the time; my father had been pushing me to engage in politics- politics!- of all things. My face would have been wasted there, so I spent my time frequenting the theatre as an actor and mooning over Hoseok until he finally demanded I do something about it.”
“Your mother was terribly disgusted by the wedding, if I recall.” Hobi agreed blithely. “She got a few good rounds off before someone managed to stop her. Still… the wardrobe is usable enough, even with a few holes.”
“An heirloom piece, too.” Jin laments. “What kind of monster could do that to solid maple?”
“Sorry-“ Namjoon coughed, choking on his food. He hit his chest to clear out his airway, sipping his water as the other two men watch him carefully. “Your own mother tried to shoot you at your wedding?”
“Oh, of course!” Jin beamed, delighted. “It’s been the most excitement at a family function since Tae and Chim ran off, do you remember that, darling?”
“I think half the country remembers, Jinnie, the explosion was astounding.” Hobi slipped his hand free to wrap around Jin’s shoulder, leaning in conspiringly to Namjoon, “Jin’s cousin Taehyung eloped with a boy some years after we were married-“
“We weren’t able to attend, tragically, but we were traveling Paris at the time-“
“-and they rather thought to follow in our footsteps and go out with a bang, so to speak.”
“If by bang you mean setting off almost a tonne of dynamite hidden under my great-aunt’s floorboards.“ Jin nodded dreamily, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling with a fond smile. “To say the least, they’re certainly unwelcome at home. Most of my family were terribly against men bedding one another, so it’s hardly a great loss.”
“Mm… sometimes I think it would have been nice to have been there.” Hobi purrs, sliding a hand down Jin’s nape and scruffing in a way he could only describe as possessive.
Namjoon valiantly attempted to focus on anything other than the way the slighter man looked like he’d rather be consuming his husband than the glass of wine he- well, both of them- had been drinking during the meal. Namjoon doesn’t think he’s seen either of them take a bite of the food on the table, though it’s been disappearing without him noticing.
Maybe he was coming down with something from being out in the poor weather.
He adjusted in his seat as discretely as he could, feeling the way his cheeks were warming. Maybe he could pretend that it was a fever instead of the way his body seemed to be instinctually reacting to the open affection the two men were lavishing on one another. Tried not to think too deeply on the way he could hear his mother’s voice ringing in the back of his mind, telling him that it wouldn’t do to think about such matters, Namjoon-ah, there would be no salvation for the queers- always said with a slight curl of her lip, like it was something to be ashamed of.
Maybe they would stop soon, and grant him a moment to regain some of the composure he swore he could feel them see melting off of him- as if there had been any to begin with, wandering up to their home in the middle of the storm-
Or not, he thought bleakly as Jin did something under the table that had Hobi sucking in a breath through his teeth.
-
By sheer force of will, Namjoon managed to hold out until the end of the meal. A pleasant haze of warmth-comfort-full fell over his mind, allowing him to droop lower in his seat even as it felt like electricity was sparking through his veins at the way Hobi was watching Jin.
He should be weirded out by this. Maybe he was.
And yet.
Jin excused himself to sweep off to the kitchens with a click-clack of his boots to clean up after the staff- of which Namjoon had increasingly begun to doubt there were any other occupants in the manor. The entire time he’d been present, things had just sort of… kept appearing. If anyone else had been in the room- well, actually, with the way he’d found his gaze wandering back to the married men in front of him, there could have been an elephant in the room and he’d simply be too wrapped up in his own goddamn horny thoughts to know any different.
“Ah, you look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting upright.” Hobi clucked sympathetically, throwing back the last mouthful of his wine and setting the glass down with a delicate clink against the table. “Come on, sweet thing, let’s get you up to bed. You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?”
Why yes, he had, actually.
Thankfully, the earlier chill of being soaked to the skin had passed, though the odd tingling in the back of his mind continued to persist. Namjoon decided to write it off as exhaustion; maybe it was the sign of an oncoming migraine- his glasses pressing too much into the bridge of his nose or something.
Hobi was a quiet, comfortable presence next to him as he led Namjoon back through the sitting room to the main foyer and upstairs, pointing out small details of the paintings and décor along the way. That painting was Hobi’s third anniversary gift to Jin, that lamp had been stolen from Jin’s great-grandmother and kept out of spite despite quite possibly being the most garish thing Namjoon had ever seen; the list went on.
By the time they arrived to what he assumed was to be his room for the night, Namjoon found himself rather endeared by the pair, even if they were eccentric- and they were, there was little arguing that fact- it was clear as day they absolutely adored one another.
“There should still be some towels and extra clothing in here from the last time Jungkook visited.” The man informed him at the door, making no move to follow Namjoon into the room. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe as Namjoon curiously took everything in. “He’s about your size, and no, he wouldn’t mind knowing that you borrowed anything. Jin threatens to throw out his things every time he leaves; he travels a lot for work. He hasn’t been back in a couple of years now.”
“That’s… a while?”
Hobi smiled, a heart shaped thing that Namjoon couldn’t help but find his cheeks flushing over.
Get your shit together, Kim Namjoon, they’re happily married and certainly don’t need whatever horny crisis you’re having added to their night. He silently chastised himself, offering a smile that seemed to soften the other man’s features even further.
“I’ll leave you be, then.” Hobi finally said, nodding as he pushed himself off the frame. “Feel free to sleep as long as you like- Jin and I tend to be more nocturnal and go to bed later.”
“Thank you again, for letting me stay.”
“Of course.” Hobi threw over his shoulder before closing the door quietly.
Namjoon exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he glanced down to make sure his dick wasn’t visible. There was something about the way Hobi’s softer countenance to his earlier, more animated behavior just. Sunk into his bones. Not quite praise but close enough to it that his body was reacting in ways he wasn’t used to.
Still, he couldn’t quite shake the way the other man’s gaze had seemed… knowing. He went about his nightly routine, pleased to find that the bathroom seemed to have been redone- tastefully vintage without the actual lack of modern amenities he was used to- before crawling into the canopied bed with a yawn that felt like it came from the base of his spine. His eyes closed, the room surprisingly warm considering he hadn’t seen any heat registers, and-
Nothing.
No matter how hard Namjoon tried, sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours but in reality, according to the small clock on his side table, had been twenty-eight minutes. The storm was still rolling overhead, low thunder grumbling over the distance as it came over the mountains.
It felt like there was a heat under his skin, pouring through his veins to pool in his belly, his thoughts inevitably turning to the two men who had taken him into their home the longer he stared up at the dark canopy. The curve of Jin’s plush lips, the way Hobi’s eyes had turned dark and predatory…
Inhibition was thrown to the wind as he snuck a hand under the blankets, fumbling with the flannel pajamas he’d found in the wardrobe- surprisingly modern fashion, considering what he’d been wearing earlier- before sucking in a breath through his teeth as he took himself in hand. Already, he was at half-mast, pre-cum weeping from the head as he closed his eyes and allowed himself this one guilty pleasure.
Guilt for a number of things, really, though certainly a majority of it for whatever weird, gay, Christian upbringing his mother had drilled into his head.
He ignored it the best he could for now.
Pleasure curled in his gut as he set a slow, sensual pace, thumb swiping over his slit on each upstroke. Imagined what it might be like to have Jin’s lips wrapped around his cock instead, sinking into the wet heat of his mouth, suckling-
Aside from one disappointing hook-up in his early twenties, Namjoon could admit his knowledge of gay sex was limited, but it was the idea of it that thrilled him as he muffled a whine into his palm. Of being pinned between the other two men as they wrung everything they could from him and then some, being used for their pleasure before allowing him to come. The fact he would allow it, craved it as his hand fisted more tightly, chasing the pull of an orgasm but unsure if he could.
It was like watching someone else piloting his body when he finally threw the blankets off of himself with a grunt, achingly hard as he opened the door and padded down the hall. The tingling in the back of his mind was back again in full force; it felt like it was drawing him down the hall like a siren song. He knew Hobi hadn’t told him where his and Jin’s room was, but an instinct pulled him the right way.
The door gave way under his palm, unlocked for him- and the sight laid out before him could have only been conjured by the most depraved corner of his repressed thoughts.
“There you are.” Hobi cooed, back arching under Jin’s weight as he gasped, throwing his head back with a groan. “Thought you were going to lose your nerve, pretty boy.”
The broader man was thrusting sharply into Hobi at a pace that had to hurt, Hobi clawing at his shoulder with a ragged sound that went straight to Namjoon’s cock. They were both still near entirely clothed, Jin’s trousers still sitting at his hips, Hobi’s clinging to a single delicately boned ankle. He could see the way the smaller man’s cock slapped up against his belly, pale thighs trembling as Jin shifted.
It was everything Namjoon knew he shouldn’t want, laid out in a feast of flesh and sin and sweat, illuminated by the fireplace and a handful of small candles around the room.
“Right there- fuck- c’mon, Jinnie, give it to me-“ Hobi growled, eyes flashing in the dim light. Literally so- a bright silver around his iris that should have made so many alarm bells ring in Namjoon’s head but only served to turn him on more.
Jin doesn’t come, but Namjoon can see the way Hoseok does, white spattering up and onto the dark red shirt he’s wearing with a choked off cry before going limp onto the pillows behind him. Jin fucks him through it, words murmured into the space between them as Namjoon drifts closer to the bed like he’s tethered to them.
“-even prettier than we could have imagined.” Jin whispers as Namjoon comes to a stop next to the bed.
The sudden embarrassment hits him then, a spike of cold that ricochets down his spine like a bucket of ice water. Blinking, he opened his mouth to apologize, torn between flight and covering the visible bulge of his erection-
“None of that now, Namjoon-ah.” Hobi scolds, dark eyes locked on him again. It’s like he could reach into his skull and read his very thoughts, but that should be impossible.
“You’re thinking loud enough anyone could hear you, pretty boy.” Jin added, turning to glance at Namjoon with an amused smirk pulling at the edge of his lips. In the dim light of the fireplace, they look even fuller, his entire face pulled into sharp relief that made him look otherworldly. Never mind the way Hobi looks like a painting, spread out beneath the broader man in a way that admittedly did nothing but send another curl of arousal to his dick.
“I-“
“Shh.” Hobi cooed, catching Namjoon’s eye again. The ring of silver around his iris was back again; he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, feeling as though his mind was perched on the edge of a very high cliff with nothing below him to catch him should he fall. “It’s alright. Don’t you want to join us?”
“You can.” Jin added. “There’s nothing wrong with indulging yourself.” They reached out to him, sin and desire painted into a reality Namjoon already knew there was no hope of escaping.
Even if he could, would he want to?
“Let go, pretty.” Jin whispered- so caught in Hobi’s eyes, he couldn’t tell if the words were aloud or not.
Pretty.
He was pretty?
“The prettiest thing we’ve ever seen.” Jin replied immediately. “Come to bed?”
It was a question but a demand, a command all at once. Namjoon could never deny them a thing.
“Okay.” He finally breathed.
It sounded a lot like sealing his own fate.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Seokjin breathes into Namjoon’s ear as Hoseok lays back to accommodate the extra body climbing onto the bed with them. His silken shirt fell off his shoulders like water, a vast expanse of unblemished skin revealed to him all at once. “I would kill for him. Burn the world down, if only he asked me to.”
“I never have to ask, Jinnie.” Hobi purrs, eyes hooded and gleaming in the light of the candles. “You’ll do it for me all the same.”
“I would.” Seokjin confirmed, “I will.”
“Mhm. But that’s for another time, my love. We have a guest.”
“Mm. A guest willing to worship at the alter of a god.”
Hobi preened at that, arching to allow his pretty neck on display, the leather collar against his throat starkly contrasted against the warmth of his skin. It’s marked with the characters of Jin’s name, the indents visible as he moved. Namjoon felt the way his cock responded to it, mouth nearly watering at the promise of reaching out to touch. Not until he’s allowed, not without permission- to do anything otherwise would feel like a disservice to either of the ethereal men to have allowed him into their bed.
“He’s been called many names.” Jin continues into Namjoon’s ear, hands slipping over his waist, broad palms that send hazy shivers down his spine at how close they are. The tip of his cock bobs proudly out from his trousers, slick with pre and lube. Namjoon stifles a shudder as it grazes the front of his pants.
“A siren.” Hobi says, closer to a moan as his hand slunk down over his abdomen, smearing his own come over red silk to press the heel of his palm down over the swell of his already filling cock. The sight reminds Namjoon of art, something to belong in a museum or painted to preserve its splendor.
“A demon.”
“Ah, well, my father always was a little too on the nose.” Hobi hummed, the sound rumbling from his chest. He winked when he caught Namjoon’s eye, rolling his hips up into his hand with a choked off sound. “He was a priest; couldn’t stan that his own son could think of courting the devil.”
“The devil being me.” Jin chuckled, accompanied by a slow grind of his hips forward into Namjoon’s pelvis. His eyes almost roll into the back of his head at the way his cock jerked in his pants, whimpering when he felt Jin lean in, his breath fanning over his overheated neck. The other man curls around him like a heady wine; his scent sinking into Namjoon’s very bones, sending him spiralling down, down, down into pleasure when their cocks graze each other. “I wore a cloak.”
“And then you gagged me with it and fucked me over your grandmother’s dining table.” Hobi sighed dreamily. He’s still rolling his hips leisurely, fluid and calculated, the precision of a dancer. Namjoon can hear the slick sound of pre-cum against the other man’s hand as he throws his head back again, basking in the security of his own pleasure. “What bliss.”
The room felt like it was getting warmer. Maybe it was just Namjoon- he realized he was panting- short, loud whimpers that are swiftly swallowed down by the press of Jin’s mouth on his own, insistent as he suckled on his lower lip; he parted them willingly, allowing the other man entrance to lick into his mouth with a sound that could only be a moan.
“Oh, sweet little lamb,” Hoseok croons, “We are going to ruin you.”
-
It feels a bit like Namjoon was underwater, ears stuffed with cotton as he allowed himself to be pliantly maneuvered down next to Hobi on the bed. The sheets underneath his palms were smooth, cool against the heated parts of his skin exposed to the air of the room.
Jin loomed above him, eyes flashing silver to match his husband’s as he grinned, teeth unnaturally white in the dim lighting of the room.
Dangerous! His mind screamed. The momentary flash of instinctive, primal fear that broke through the pleasant haze in his mind was swallowed down easily as Hobi cupped his cheek, shifting them to suck bruises into the pulse point on his neck, breathing in deep and letting out a satisfied purr that settled back down over him like a blanket.
“You’re going to be so good for us, little lamb.” Hobi crooned again, lips brushing over the shell of Namjoon’s ear as he spoke. The praise went straight to a small, hidden place Namjoon kept in his chest- somewhere he didn’t have to pretend he hated the way it sounded on the other man’s lips. “You’ll be so lovely for Jinnie, too? Let him fuck you open until you can’t help but beg for it?”
An affirmation of some kind left him at the filthy casualty of the man’s words, nodding against the pillow as Hobi’s hand trailed from his cheek downward, sliding over his bare chest to pinch cruelly at one of his nipples. Honestly, he’d forgotten that he’d forgone a shirt to bed until now, realizing how pebble his nipples were only as Hobi began to roll one bud between his fingers with a gleam in his eye.
Jin’s hands rested around the expanse of his thighs, fingers kneading into the flesh as he watched on with sharp eyes. The broader of the duo seemed completely at ease, content even, to allow Hobi his way; even as Namjoon watched his cock twitch at the sounds being pried out of Namjoon’s throat.
“But,” Hobi laughed, heart shaped smile a little more menacing than it had been earlier- a little crueler too, as his hand roves down to grip Namjoon by the balls, squeezing through the fabric, “I think I want you first.”
It hurt, but that was the point of it all; Namjoon couldn’t stop the jerk of his hips as a piteous whimper escaped from between his lips. The pressure pushed him ever closer to the edge of a peak he couldn’t see the edge or the bottom of yet, pleasure curling tightly in his gut.
Hobi, perhaps seeing the way Namjoon was unravelling, shook his head with a laugh, glancing up to Jin with a wicked grin.
“No, little lamb- you won’t be coming unless one of us say so.” Jin said, voice falling an octave lower as his silver-ringed eyes locked onto Namjoon’s. Endless, mercurial silver that seemed to grip onto something in his head, a shiver running down his spine.
He didn’t know if it would even be possible for him to stave off the orgasm his body seemed to be straining for, Hobi’s hand changing to instead press the heel of his palm against the straining bulge in Namjoon’s pants; a silent invitation for something to grind up against. He felt less like a human and more like a well-trained dog, panting into the air as his hands gripped at the sheets underneath him, sound buzzing in his ears like an electrical current.
“Good boy.” Hobi grinned, pushing himself up to better look at him. His silken shirt, unbuttoned several down, shift to reveal the full expanse of his shoulder and chest, loose enough for Namjoon to glance down and see the entire plane of his torso. “Now, let’s see how much you can really take, hm?”
Namjoon’s tongue felt thick in his mouth as he felt, more than saw, Hobi shifting closer to his cock. Not until two pairs of hands were sliding the pajama pants down his thighs, allowing his cock to spring free. Neglected, denied orgasm in the privacy of his rooms earlier, it was becoming mottled purple that looked as painful as it felt pleasurable.
Well, if he had to choose a way to go out, this seemed like the best option, to be honest.
Hobi clucked his tongue sympathetically, even as he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of his shaft, watching Namjoon out of the corner of his eye when he gasped at the feathery touch, hips bucking up instinctively.
“Sensitive, isn’t he, darling?” Jin hummed, a rasp to his voice that proved he wasn’t unaffected by the sight laid out before him. “Oh, what a feast, laid out before us like a lamb on an altar.”
It did something, hearing the way Jin spoke of him, so fondly yet with derision. Unlocked, perhaps, some part of him that craved equal parts cruelty and kindness. There were a number of things about his current circumstances he could say he’d never experienced, new sensations and parts unearthed he’d been trying to keep buried out of his own misplaced guilt of existing as a gay man in a world that wouldn’t hesitate to chew him up and spit him back out were they to discover it.
“Shh, it’s alright, sweet boy.” Hobi hushed him; Namjoon hadn’t realized he’d started to cry, fat tears silently streaming down his cheeks at his own thoughts and the way that it hurt, being denied release. “You’re safe here. We’ll take care of you.”
Those eerie, beautiful eyes seemed to sink ever deeper into the core of his psyche, taking root and pulling him back to the present with every word that spilled over from the other man’s lips. He could begin to see why Jin had called him a siren now, but the thought didn’t alarm him near as much he though it should. Perhaps he had gone mad, or lost his mind to a fever he couldn’t entirely feel yet, or-
“Perhaps you just think too much, little lamb.” Jin whispered, like a secret- or a prayer.
“Is our sweet boy thinking too much?” Hobi asked, more a statement as he trailed a finger up the length of his cock idly. Namjoon shook his head, nodded, gasped when Hobi’s hand settled around the back of him, pulling upward slowly over slick, overheated flesh. “Oh, sweet thing, don’t you fret; we’ll make sure all of those thoughts disappear from your pretty little head.”
Honey blond became the only think Namjoon could see as the lighter framed man threw a leg over Namjoon’s thighs to straddle him, shoulders pressed back against Jin’s belly as the pair of them looked down at Namjoon like he was something precious… or something to be devoured. Without further preamble, the hand on his cock set a pace Namjoon couldn’t keep up with, Hobi bending over to swallow the sounds with deep, searing kisses that stole his breath. Pleasure continued to spiral up, up, up, a spring coiling to the point of snapping; but the familiar, inevitable climax didn’t come. Instead, it felt like his body plateaued, stuck in a loop that quickly turned any remaining higher thought into dust the longer he lay there, the slick, wet sounds of his own pre-cum as vivid as any porn he could think of.
“That’s it, just let Hobi touch you.” Jin purred. Compared to the warm, soothing lilt Hobi’s spoken in, Jin is sultry, sensual; dominating in the best way possible as the dark-haired man watched his husband take apart another man in their bed. “Almost ready, darling?”
“Close.” Hobi hummed, considering. An exchange occurred overhead, short movement that was lost on Namjoon with how his eyelids seemed to be fused closed, deep in sensation.
He did feel when it became impossibly wetter with lube- so slick it was almost too much, friction losing merit as he whined in complaint. Someone laughed above him, affectionate, hand gripping at him before he felt the head of his cock guided up to push against tight heat. Namjoon’s eyes snapped open to watch, slack-mouthed, as Hobi sunk down onto him with a long exhale of pleasure, head tilted back as he took him in with one easy motion. The sound that followed from Namjoon’s chest, like it had been personally ripped out of him, would likely be something he would use for years to jerk himself off, shuddering at the way it felt like his very spine was pulsing with the pressure of being inside of the other man. It was different in every way from being seated in a pussy, or fucking into his own fist.
“Have you ever had someone like this?” Hobi asked, eyes hooded as he leaned forward, grinding down with a low groan. His hands pushed Namjoon’s up and over his head, fingers curled tightly around his wrists when Namjoon protested with a firm click of the tongue. “Ever experienced someone else to make you sit and take what you’re given and be grateful for it?”
“Of course he hasn’t, darling. Look at him, the poor thing. Couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, cock dumb as he is.” Jin tsk-ed.
Hobi laughed again, crueler, raising himself up with a full body roll that reminded Namjoon of a snake coiling to strike. “Oh, he’s going to be so good for me.”
There aren’t words after that. Just the steady rhythm of Hobi fucking himself on Namjoon’s cock, buried to the hilt in the clenching, wet heat, dripping lube. The other man’s cock wept onto Namjoon’s belly and against the red silk of his shirt; it would be ruined after this, he couldn’t help but note, panting out overstimulated breaths. Before long, both of them begin to lose their composure- Hobi moaning high in his throat, brow furrowed as Namjoon wordlessly pleads for something, anything, to let him come. He needed it, felt the pleasure-pain blend when his cock jerked uselessly, unable to do anything much other than take it.
“Oh fuck- right there-“ Hobi grunted suddenly, rigid. Jin grabbed at his hair, fingers twining in the honey blond to pull him back harshly, sucking a mark into a spot right above the leather of his collar and trailing up behind his ear. He was stroking himself loosely as he watched both of the men beneath him crumble. “Going to- fuck-“
“Do it, then.”
The command hit him like a train. Namjoon didn’t think it was possible for Hobi to clench any tighter around him until he did, ass tightening like a vice around his cock as he fucked himself through another orgasm. Cum hit Namjoon’s chest with the force of it, his legs trembling around where they bracketed Namjoon’s. His hand left where they had been keeping Namjoon’s in favor of milking himself through the aftershocks while Jin murmured lowly into his ear, the silver of his eyes unnerving when they landed back on Namjoon.
“Go ahead, little lamb. Show Hobi what he does to you.”
He’s pretty sure he blacked out when the coil finally snapped, fucking up into the willing heat of Hobi’s ass and locking there, back arched with the force of it. Stardust and fireworks burst behind his eyes as the thunder rumbles overhead again, white noise in his ears when he finally went limp.
Time blurred, snapshots of Jin carefully helping Hobi off of Namjoon’s thighs and settling his husband down next to him. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth in a way Namjoon could only think of as reverent; rightfully so- the slighter man certainly evoked a sense of devotion bordering sinful out of Namjoon, though that could have been the aftermath of his orgasm.
Once he’d finished smoothing hair out of his husband’s face, Jin turned his attention fully back to Namjoon. He didn’t know what the other man could see that he didn’t but his handsome features smoothed out into something a little more assessing.
“You’ll be good for Jinnie to open you up now, won’t you?” Hobi whispered, tracing a finger down Namjoon’s cheek with a gossamer touch. “He’ll make you feel ways you never thought possible, little lamb.”
A small, confused sound left him at the statement, but it was followed by the air getting punched out of his lungs when Jin flipped him over with apparent ease, pulling Namjoon’s hips back to have him presented on all fours, face buried into the pillows. He was granted only a handful of seconds to adjust before the other man buried his face into the cleft of his ass without preamble, tongue laving over his hole without pause.
“Wait-“
Hobi soothed him when he cried out, overstimulated, confused pleasure drawing up in his belly again. While sex-softened, eyes lidded, he was firm as he pushed down between Namjoon’s shoulders to pin him down, preventing him from trying to escape the new, overwhelming sensation of someone eating him out. Not just tentatively, either; Jin committed with fervor, able to quickly bring his cock back to fullness in a matter of minutes. Somewhere in the midst of it, more lube was added to the mix of spit and tongue, the filthiness of it not lost on any of them. Namjoon could hear the way Hobi’s hand returned to his cock, another, equally slick sound from behind him where Jin was pleasuring himself and Namjoon at the same time.
A finger worked into him, sliding in with almost no resistance; he didn’t even notice it for several seconds, but by then Jin had already pushed in a second, crooking at the knuckle to press against the inside of his body. Namjoon made a wounded, startled sound, but Jin didn’t cease his ministrations, working a third finger in and massaging somewhere in him that made a deeper, flooding pleasure fill him. His cock jerked from where it rested against his belly, dripping slick that he could feel hit the sheets.
The white noise returned; he barely noticed when Jin shifted, adjusting himself to press up against the back of his thighs, hand gripping one of his cheeks while the other slid the head of his cock between the crease of his thighs. The only sound in the room is the low crackle of the fire, Namjoon’s choked breathing, and the low growl that left Jin’s chest.
Another flash of panic hit him as much as the eager arousal of the prospect of being fucked did; it felt too big, too much, even as Jin rocked forward, cock gliding between his thighs, head nudging at his balls. But there would be no stopping it now, no pause to the thick pressure of the blunt head breaching the tight muscle of his ass as he gaped, gaze vacant at how much it felt.
Namjoon whimpered when the squelch of the other man’s cock matched the sensation of being full, overwhelmed tears beading at the corner of his eyes. It wasn’t even all of it yet, endless pressure-pain that blurred into pleasure the further he pressed until his pelvis was pressed flush to his ass.
“You’re going to take it, and you’re going to like it.” Jin hissed through his teeth, words that sounded like they were caught on his tongue. “And then, you’ll come until you’ve been drained dry.”
A broken sob left him at the words; a moment later, Jin’s hands found the indent of Namjoon’s hips, nails digging in so deeply it felt like he’d drawn blood. Maybe he had, but Namjoon couldn’t even begin to think to look as the man pulled out, both of them groaning at the slide- before beginning to thrust in earnest.
Hobi pressed him down further, the smaller man curling in close like a lover, hand brushing the hair back from Namjoon’s neck.
Somehow, he could sense something was wrong before it happened, but there was no stopping a predator from striking.
Teeth locked into the crease of his shoulder and throat, a sharp, stabbing pain that made him come almost immediately with a shout. Confusion turned to pleasure as lips sealed over the bite, feeling the way he nearly turned boneless under the weight of both of their touch.
Heat swelled under his skin again, wanton cries that were punched out of him with each deep grind of Jin’s cock into him. It must have been his prostate being pummelled so harshly, but there was no denying how high it brought him. He didn’t think beyond the way he could feel his cock jerking underneath him as he came again, and then again without any refraction between. The third was dry, his nerves scraped raw by the time Jin came in him with hot, wet ecstasy.
Namjoon wasn’t even in his own body when the second bite came, then the third, tongues and mouths sealed over them afterword in a way that he instinctively knew weren’t just the effect of someone leaving marks. He could feel the way his blood pooled, leaving trails over his skin as the vampires- they could not be anything but- drank from him while they fucked him.
He blinked to find Hobi over him, riding him with crimson lips and eyes that had fully turned silver in the dark of the room. Blinked again when a second drag of a cock in him stretched him wide, taking them both so deeply he could feel it in his throat. His body was responding even if he couldn’t, orgasms wrung from him like a wet rag, each of them stronger than the last without pause between. An aphrodisiac, maybe, impossible as it seemed.
Drool pooled underneath him as they took their fill of his body, a willing vessel to fill and pour out for them as they desired. Beautiful creatures of night and shadow and blood and bone and worship that Namjoon would willingly present himself for again and again, if only they would love him as much as they did one another.
Words float past him at one point, tongues that lap at his flesh and touched him gently when they finally sated whatever need their instincts demanded. Namjoon had sunk so deeply into blankness that he had reached clarity, able to think and breathe but unable to move, exhaustion settled so firmly into him he wondered if he would even wake if he closed his eyes again.
“The perfect lamb for us-“
“Never felt a connection like this one before-“
“Would you stay? Let us worship you the way your deepest thoughts are ready and willing to?”
He didn’t know if he actually answered aloud, but the answer was yes.
When he finally lost a tether on his consciousness, he was the most sated he’d ever been.
-
According to the locals here, there’s a manor in the woods that sometimes doesn’t exist.
Sometimes, as they said, if folk have found it, they don’t remember a single thing about it after stepping foot down the old dirt road at the edge of town. Sometimes, they don’t come back, either way, the only people who go out there are the ones curious enough to try and figure it out.
After spending some thorough time investigating Addams River and the surrounding area, I can assure you that there is nothing of note to be found, aside from some very thorough folklore, a beautiful hiking trail, and some wildly interesting locals. If you should find yourself out this way, the motel will be the highlight of the stop. The man who owns it is… a character and a half to say the least.
While I did find a manor in the woods, it was long since abandoned, and resembled more an old hunting cabin than a manor.
But while I did not find a manor, I think I did find a place where I could finally hear my own thoughts. While I greatly appreciate the years of employment and your appreciation for my writing, I have come to the realization that it’s time for me to move on and shift my focus to new adventures. So… please consider this my official letter of resignation. I will not be returning to the office; please feel free to distribute whatever belongings to the rest of staff as you see fit.
All the best,
Kim Namjoon