a cup of coffee (for your love) | Chapter 3
Sweet Cupid's Kiss
All Member Masterlist || a cup of coffee Chapter Index
summary: you really like Doyoung, but you can't deny that you're still attracted to Johnny. A second date with Doyoung only confuses things a little further, while also simultaneously causing some very sexy realizations
length: 17,177 words
tags: smut, infidelity mentions, light dom/sub, oral sex, face-sitting, blowjobs, 69ing, orgasm delay/denial,
<- previous || next ->
A few days go by in which Doyoung’s schedule keeps him too busy for a second date with you. But you keep yourself busy too — working long shifts at the cafe, hanging out with friends in your free time, you pick up a new hobby.
And now that you’ve got feelings for Doyoung, you find it a little easier to deal with Johnny when he comes into the cafe.
It’s on a Wednesday, three days now since you were with Doyoung, anticipation buzzes in the back of your mind because he’s told you that he’s free tonight if you want to go out. (“Your choice,” he’d told you, “Since you’re paying this time.”) It’s a beautifully sunny day, the air turning a little warmer now as the days creep a bit closer to the turn of spring. The cafe has been relatively busy, the door constantly opening and closing, bringing with it the joyful sounds of people’s lives out in the city.
Johnny comes in, and your coworker Lia starts to step around you to take his order as she’s done for you almost every day after Valentine’s Day.
“It’s alright, Lia.” She’d been busy with doing stock counts, and you’re in a good mood. You can help Johnny this morning. “I’ve got it.”
His eyes are bright, an unsure smile growing more confident as you stand before him at the register, as you smile up at him.
“What can I get for you this morning?” You ask cheerfully.
Johnny’s gaze flits around your face, taking in your lipstick smile and your shining eyes, taking note of your sparkly earrings glittering in the sunlight. His attention drops momentarily to your neck before returning to your face, the smile shifts a little though you’re not sure what the change in expression really means.
He just orders his usual favorite coffee and a croissant. You’re ready to just go about your day as usual, but you begin noticing that each time you look up, Johnny is already looking at you. Not always straight-on, sometimes he glances at you from the corner of his eye, sometimes just a blip of his attention when you’re greeting a customer. But it’s enough to be noticeable, enough that you start to feel a little warm, hot under the collar.
His gaze is reminiscent of wandering hands and lips, of multiple orgasms wracking your body with pleasure, of sweet scented bubblebaths and wine. Every time he looks at you you’re reminded more and more of your time together.
Which, that’s decidedly not healthy.
Particularly when you consider that you’re seeing Doyoung tonight for your second date. You shouldn’t be spending a good portion of the day leading up to that date thinking about another man. Especially not a man who’s in a relationship.
But damn. By the time that you go on your fifteen minute break, Johnny’s leaned back in his seat, headphones hanging around his neck, staring at the screen of his laptop as he drums his fingers on the table and occasionally moving his head as if he’s shaking away a thought. You know this because now you’re the one staring at him from the seat you’ve taken in the opposite corner of the store.
Suddenly, he stops drumming his fingers, cocks his head slightly to the side, and then turns to look at you.
You drop your gaze to your phone, to the open message you were drafting to Doyoung about your date tonight. When you look up again a couple minutes later after sending the text, Johnny’s still looking at you.
He doesn’t look away.
He does make direct eye contact with you, though, and raises his eyebrows as if he’s expecting you to say something or do something.
Part of you wants to get up and walk over to his table, to sit down across from him, to let him finally talk and explain away why the hell he’d taken you out on a date and then had sex with you on Valentine’s Day instead of doing those things with the partner whose stuffed animal he slept in bed with. You want an explanation, but there’s also that annoying little thought in the back of your mind that says that if his explanation is good enough, you can see yourself falling foolishly back into bed with him.
Johnny was truly one of the best fucks you’ve ever had. Is it so foolish to want to have that again?
Your phone buzzes again in your hand before you can build up the courage to actually go over to Johnny again.
Doyoung. He’s agreed to the bar you’ve proposed for your date tonight, and you let that sweep you away from thoughts of Johnny. You focus on your date, on planning what you’re going to wear, on deciding if you’re going to go with sexy underwear in the hopes of Doyoung coming home with you tonight, if you’re going to even make it through dinner with him or if you’re just going to get drinks and then take him home.
By the end of your shift, you’ve almost successfully ignored Johnny’s existence.
You clock out, take off your apron, grab your purse, and race out from behind the counter. You’ve only got a few hours before you’re meeting Doyoung, and you think you might just go shopping for a new outfit since you’ve got the time.
You’ve only just made it out the door of the cafe when you hear your name. The door pops back open behind you, and then Johnny’s right there, his bag swinging on his shoulder, headphones sitting crooked on his collarbones. He’s wearing a button down open over a shirt with cutoff sleeves, and as you swing around to face him, one of the first things you notice is that his top shirt has slipped off his shoulder to reveal his tattoo. You remember tasting his skin there, tracing the lines of his tattoos while you were in the bath together.
A flicker of heat sparks up in your belly. You do your best to drown out the burgeoning flame, without much success as Johnny rakes his fingers back through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
Doyoung, you remind yourself. There’s a flash of memory from the hotel that night — Doyoung’s throat bared as he tipped his head back with a noisy moan.
In the sunlight you can see that Johnny has got a bit of stubble on his chin and upper lip. Your mind immediately returns to his face between your thighs, and your imagination supplies the added sensation of stubble on your sensitive skin.
What the fuck.
You push the thoughts away.
Doyoung. His hands sliding around your hips. His fingers tracing lightly over the stretch marks on your thighs when you’d slid into bed for sleep. Doyoung’s touch so soft and smooth and tender on your sensitive skin.
Doyoung. Think about Doyoung. Forget Johnny.
“What, Johnny?” You could just walk away, but that heat in your belly seems to have melted your feet to the ground right in front of Johnny, rooted to the spot while he gives you another look like he wants to pull you into the nearest private spot.
“I wanted to let you know how sorry I am about that night,” he quickly apologizes, the words rushing out. “I didn’t explain myself beforehand, and that’s entirely my fault for not being transparent with you. But I’m in a pretty open relationship with my partner. We both sleep with other people if either of us are out of town and feel the need or the connection with someone. I should’ve told you that, because I know you felt a connection with me, and I’ve felt a connection with you for a while. I hate how things ended that night, and I wanted to explain and apologize, but up until today I felt like you must really hate me. Then this morning, you smiled at me, and you look so, so happy.”
“So you thought you’d put a damper on my happiness by bringing that night up?” You fold your arms in front of you. “I do wish that you would’ve told me you were in an open relationship that day; it probably would’ve changed how the night went, like, I wouldn’t have let myself get emotionally invested in what we were doing. But it’s too late now, Johnny. By keeping that a secret from me, you made me feel like I was helping you cheat on your girlfriend or wife or whatever. I felt disgusting walking out of there.”
He lowers his gaze to the ground, chastised. “I’m sorry. I never meant for that to happen.”
“Yeah, well,” you say with a careless shrug, “Your apology now doesn’t change anything. Like you pointed out, I’m happy today. I’m happy because I’ve got a second date tonight with a fantastic guy.”
Johnny looks up, his eyes glinting curiously with the newly presented information. “Really?”
“Is it so surprising that someone would want to see me twice?” You shoot back at him.
“That’s not what I meant.” Johnny takes a half step back, holding his hands up. “I just… You know what, nevermind. Have fun on your date tonight. Maybe tell him to be a little more careful with the hickeys. They’re hard to cover up.”
Your hand flies to your throat, heat blossoming in your face as Johnny stares pointedly at the marks Doyoung left behind the other night. Shit, you’d forgotten about them this morning while getting ready for work. They’d faded somewhat, but Johnny had clearly noticed them.
Still reeling slightly from that encounter with Johnny, you decide to skip shopping for a new outfit. Mood: ruined. But even after you’re home, you keep thinking about it, keep running his words back over in your mind – his explanation or excuse or apology, whatever he wanted to call that conversation.
Does it really matter if he was in an open relationship? Yes, if you’d known it ahead of time, it would’ve changed things a little bit. You probably still would have let him wine and dine you before taking you back to his place; you still would’ve had sex with him, maybe would’ve even still enjoyed that bath and spent the night with him. But you wouldn’t have let yourself be so open, so emotionally invested in everything that was happening. Because before you realized that Johnny had a partner, you were into him. Deeply into him, ready to let yourself fall – just like with Doyoung, which kinda makes you feel like you might be diving into this too quickly too.
By the time the date rolls around later that evening, you’re second-guessing everything.
You’re already at the bar, sitting there nursing a drink and lost in your thoughts, when Doyoung arrives.
“Sorry, I was running late.” He brushes a kiss to your cheek, and he hoists himself onto the barstool beside you. “My schedule ran over by a little, and then traffic was insane. I should’ve texted.”
You didn’t even realize that he was late, although a quick glance at your watch shows that he’s less than ten minutes late. You’d been too lost in your thoughts.
Now that he’s here, you shake off the wispy thoughts clouding your mind, and you immediately find yourself warming back up and coming back to reality, enchanted all over again by Doyoung. He tells you about his day racing between schedules since before dawn, a gaudy photoshoot which he still has glitter on his face from. He asks about your day, which was certainly not as interesting or exciting since all you did was serve coffee and pastries, argue with one rude customer, and you obviously skip over detailing anything about your encounter with Johnny to him.
Throughout the conversation, Doyoung keeps touching you. You’d noticed last weekend that he seemed to be a touchy guy, and tonight he consistently brushes his fingers along your bare arm, rests his knee against yours, nudges your foot with his toes, or simply reaches over and brushes your hair back behind your ear.
“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he says after a while. “I think I forgot to mention that when I got here. But you truly look… Wow.”
You’re wearing another dress tonight. Flatteringly tight and made of a shimmery black material. Your jacket is draped over the back of your seat. You went simple with jewelry, and kept the makeup subdued, left your hair loose with only a bit of it pulled back. You decided to go with some lacy lingerie underneath, as well as your favorite perfume.
This is a fancy bar, so you decided to dress for the occasion.
Doyoung can’t take his eyes or his hands off of you even as you sit there for the next two hours, drinking, talking, and at some point you order some of the lavish appetizer-sized dishes served by the bar.
To be fair, you find it difficult to keep your hands to yourself or to look away from him as well.
He’s dressed only slightly more casual than you are. His hair is still styled from the photoshoot earlier, and there’s the glitter still sparkling on his face. He’s got rings on his fingers, a delicate hoop pierced in each ear, a dainty necklace rests against his collarbones. And his collarbones are part of the reason you can’t look away – the shirt he’s wearing has a low enough scoop to the neck that Doyoung’s collarbones are constantly on display. And when he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows while you’re eating, you can’t fight the urge to reach over and touch his arm, to take his hand and pull it into your lap so you can play with his fingers, trace the veins in his hands, to fiddle with the pretty rings.
You think, to anyone else in this bar looking at the pair of you, it must be obvious that you’re on a date and that you’re both falling in love.
No one bothers you, except the bartender occasionally coming over to get you both new drinks. People fill in the bar around you, the volume rising in the place, but you and Doyoung are in your own little world, a little bubble with a population of two.
Until suddenly there’s three.
You’re not sure how long someone’s standing there before you notice, too swept up in a story Doyoung’s telling, too busy watching his expression and animated way of speaking. But then you see a shadow just standing there out of the corner of your eye. You turn to look.
A girl stands there, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed with drink, and she’s staring at Doyoung.
His words fade away as he notices that he’s lost your attention, and then he turns to look as well.
“Oh my God,” the girl says, “It is you!”
Quickly, it’s made obvious that this girl is a fan of his. She barely even notices you at all, which is maybe lucky, as she shuffles in between you and Doyoung. He poses for a photo with her, making quick, short remarks, trying to get her to leave the two of you alone as soon as possible while he also keeps a very fan-friendly and professional attitude about it all.
The girl is in a tizzy, her words rushing excitedly out, asking for another picture and a napkin autographed with a lipstick that she fishes out of her purse.
You look around, wondering if other people are noticing this, if anyone else is going to approach Doyoung to see who the celebrity in their midst is. No one else seems to see anything strange. Gazes pass clear over the pair of you and the fangirl. Heads are turned in every direction, none of them settled for too long in your direction as you scan the whole bar, the tables, the booths…
Wait.
There’s one booth occupied by a single person. Their attention is definitely fixed on you and Doyoung as the girl drifts away through the crowd, excitedly rejoining her friends. His head cocks slightly, eyebrows raise, and he lifts his glass in a toast to you.
It’s Johnny.
What the hell?
He looks stunning, undeniably incredible.
Since leaving Johnny outside the cafe earlier, he’s cleaned up. He’s wearing a leather jacket over a half-unbuttoned white shirt. His hair is pushed back except for one perfect strand that falls into his face. The way he’s sitting, the way he’s holding himself, he’s just exuding a confidence and sex appeal that’s absolutely magnetizing.
Doyoung’s hand slides over your knee.
You jolt back into your body on this side of the bar, returning to this moment right here, not to fantasies of sliding into that booth across the room.
“What were you looking at?” Doyoung laughs. “I think I lost you for a minute there. Was it the fan? Are you uncomfortable? Because we can leave, if you want?”
It’s not Doyoung’s fan that is the problem.. It’s yours.
“Yeah, we can leave.” You want to get out of here, bring Doyoung home with you, let him take this dress off of you.
“Alright, where do you want to go?” Doyoung smiles, his fingers tenderly sliding across the back of your hand, fingers slotting through yours.
You glance in Johnny’s direction again. He’s still sitting there, watching you and Doyoung, this smug, satisfied look on his face as if he knows that your thoughts are spiralling.
Not that you’re going to act on them. You like Doyoung. You like him a lot. And Johnny’s got his partner and that whole open relationship thing. You’re looking for love, for a relationship that you can be a core part of – not a side piece that can’t be anything real.
You must have let your gaze wander and linger for a little too long.
Doyoung squeezes your hand, and you return your focus to him. He’s staring across the bar, noticing Johnny now. Johnny, who notices you both looking, and he raises his glass again and blows a kiss. You quickly look at Doyoung in time to see him frown, and you’re not sure what you miss from Johnny’s end, but Doyoung clenches his jaw, a muscle flexing there, his gaze set intensely across the bar.
“Come on.” Doyoung pulls you to your feet. He barely gives you time to snag your jacket and your purse before he’s pulling you away – not towards the door as you’d really been hoping for, but instead, he’s guiding you around the bar, aiming straight for the booth. Right towards Johnny.
Your heart starts pounding, panic racing through you.
“Doyoung, no,” you protest, tugging at his hand, dragging your heels.
Doyoung ignores you, continuing to march across the bar towards Johnny’s booth.
What’s happening? Is Doyoung going to fight Johnny because he’s been staring at you? Doyoung doesn’t seem the type to start or participate in a fight, but maybe he’s doing it for honor. He seems like a pretty honorable guy.
To your surprise, Johnny is watching both of you over the edge of his glass. His lips are curved with surprise and amusement, his eyes growing brighter with anticipation as you and Doyoung reach his booth.
Is he a masochist? Is he excited at the idea of Doyoung fighting him? A sucker for drama, even when he’s the one directly involved in the drama. He looks excited for whatever is about to happen.
You stand partially behind Doyoung, nervous as these two men stare each other down, just a couple feet now between them.
“What do you want?” Doyoung hisses at Johnny. To your surprise again, Doyoung lightly pulls you out from behind him, gesturing for you to slide in on the side of the booth opposite Johnny.
Johnny’s gaze flicks over you doing exactly what Doyoung says, before he lifts his focus to Doyoung who remains standing at the edge of the table. He takes a sip of his glass, sits it down, and calmly answers Doyoung, “I’m watching your date.”
“Why?” Doyoung lets anger bleed into his voice, a little growl present there that sends a bolt of lust right into your core. It’s kinda hot seeing him getting so heated, but you’re also on edge, worried about the tension flaring up between them, scared it might come to blows if your past experiences with men are anything to go on.
Johnny leans back, stretching an arm along the back of the bench seat, far too casual considering the flush to Doyoung’s face and the intensity in his eyes. But Johnny just coolly sits there, looking from Doyoung back to you, taking in the plunging neckline of your dress, glancing over your bare throat and the hickeys you’d painstakingly covered the evidence of earlier. And then he looks back up at Doyoung.
“She’s really pretty, Doyoungie. I like her, too. Maybe sit down and we can all have a chat.” Johnny seems far too relaxed for how tense of a situation you feel this is.
Does he think he’s got some claim over you because you had sex with him once? Because you smiled at him earlier? Is he your stalker or something?
Doyoung sighs, fingers flexing around your hand that he still holds.
And then he lets go.
You frown, confused as Doyoung slides into the booth.
On Johnny’s side of the booth, both of them facing you.
What the hell is going on?
Doyoung glances at Johnny. Johnny just looks at you. Your heart is racing, your mind spinning dizzily with confusion. You keep looking between the two of them, unsure how this all went from Doyoung looking like he was going to get in a fight with Johnny a minute ago to now him sitting right beside him.
Johnny says your name calmly, a low voice of reason. And then more affectionately, he says, “Baby. I’d like you to meet my partner. My boyfriend, Doyoung.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. The bottom of your stomach drops too. You feel like your entire insides coming crashing out of you. Brain, heart, stomach, on the floor in a puddle beneath you. Your jaw: dropped.
Johnny chuckles, amused.
Doyoung immediately reaches across the table again, fingers brushing yours. “I’m sorry,” he’s already apologizing. “I wanted to tell you, but it’s complicated isn’t it?”
No.
No.
I mean, yes, it is complicated. It’s very complicated when just one man that you had mind-blowing sex with and thought that you could possibly fall in love with tells you that he’s actually in a relationship (an open relationship). But to have two men that you feel that way for tell you that? And to find out that they’re actually in that open relationship together?
This isn’t happening. There’s no way.
You must have passed out and are imagining all of this. It’s just some weird fucking dream that your brain cooked up because you’re attracted to both of them. That’s the only explanation. Because for this to be a real, actual situation that you’ve found yourself in just doesn’t seem possible.
“Are you in shock?” Johnny asks. “I know it’s quite the surprise. Believe me, I wasn’t really expecting it either.”
You glare at him. “I don’t want you to talk right now, Johnny.” You look to Doyoung instead, pleading, “Please explain.”
Doyoung nods. “I was out of town for Valentine’s Day, filming a music video. Johnny and I have a deal that when we’re out of town….” You nod, you’ve already heard this part just earlier today from Johnny. What the fuck. Doyoung skips ahead, “Well, that’s when you and Johnny hooked up, right? And when I came back, he told me about what happened, because that’s another part of our deal – if anything major happens during the open parts of the relationship, we’ll let the other know. So he told me that you guys had a great night, there were lots of emotions and he said great sex, and then you saw the bunny on the bed, and you left before he could really explain the open nature of our relationship.”
“So you thought you’d have a go at me too?” You ask, disappointed when you hear how shaky your voice is.
“No!” Doyoung shakes his head vehemently, still holding onto your hand. “No, darling, I promise. It just so happened that Johnny was away for a music festival last weekend, so I had to come to my best friend’s wedding alone. And then I saw you, and we had the night that we had.”
“Y’know, I should be completely pissed at you too, Doyoung.” You pull your hand out of Doyoung’s. “You lied to me just as much as Johnny did on Valentine’s Day. Almost more, actually. I asked you if you were in a relationship, which you denied multiple times. Sure, technically, I only asked if you had a girlfriend, but you had to have known that I was really asking you if you were available. You both played some dick moves with me, right?”
Doyoung ducks his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have been more honest. I had a feeling that you might have been the girl Johnny was talking about. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought you resembled the way he described you to me. I know it’s no excuse, but part of me was really hoping that you were the same girl, that maybe you’d be interested in having both of us.”
“We both should have been more honest with you from the start,” Johnny agrees. “But you have to admit that this dynamic is a bit unconventional. The fact that you naturally met each of us and fell into bed with each of us probably helps your understanding of the situation.”
He’s right, not that you want to tell him that.
Doyoung lifts his gaze to yours, stretching his hand beseechingly across the table towards you. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you. But what we have is real. I like you, and I want you, and I hope you can forgive me.”
“For the record,” Johnny cuts in, ignoring the glare you shoot his way, “Doyoung also told me that the sex with you was insanely good.”
Yeah, and now that you know they’re together, maybe it makes sense that you had such fantastic, amazing sex with both of them. They’ve learned from and taught each other how to be that good.
Doyoung reaches over, nudging Johnny’s glass with his fingers. “Stop talking, hyung. You’re not helping.”
Johnny exchanges a look with Doyoung, one that burns affectionately, tinged with amusement, but he drinks per Doyoung’s request, then falls silent again as Doyoung resumes speaking.
“I told him about us when he came back Monday night,” Doyoung says, “I told him I really, really liked you. That you were beautiful and funny and smart. That you were amazing in bed. I described you to him, and it was at that point that he realized that maybe our two most recent encounters were with the same person: you. There’s that thing you said to me the other night about orgasms and being carried into the bathroom, and it just sounded to me like something Johnny has said to me before, which just kinda solidified my theory that you were the same woman he’d talked about. He told me he did say something like that to you on Valentine’s Day. The more we talked about you and us, going into details that we honestly usually keep to ourselves about our separate encounters, the more it confirmed what we thought. You were the girl that works at his favorite cafe, his Valentine’s date. You were my wedding match.”
Unable to keep quiet for long, Johnny interjects again, “And when I saw you earlier, that was the final confirmation I needed. I couldn’t stop watching you this morning, noticing how happy you were when you were probably thinking about Doyoungie. And I could see those hickeys on your neck, and he’d mentioned that he got a little carried away with your throat the other night. All morning I kept looking at you, thinking about when we were together, but also imagining you and Doyoung together.”
“Did it make you jealous?” You ask.
“What?” No.” Johnny scoffs.
Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, it did. He called me right after you two talked after you got off work. Started arguing with me because I didn’t tell him that I was planning to see you again. But you told him about our date tonight. I confirmed, but I didn’t tell him we were going to be here.”
Johnny rolls the base of his glass in circles on the table, watching the condensation trail that it spreads in its wake. “I’ve got your location, Doyoung. I just wanted to see the two of you together. I wanted to see if the chemistry was really as much there as both of you made it seem like.”
Ah, so it is jealousy.
How can you be in an open relationship where both you and your partner participate in the freedom, and then get jealous when your partner is with someone else?
“He’s just mad that you wouldn’t give him the time of day,” Doyoung tells you. “Jealous that you want me, but you keep blowing him off every time he sees you at your job.”
Johnny folds his arms across his chest, darting a look at Doyoung. “I’m jealous because my boyfriend wants to keep going on dates with the girl that I wanted to keep seeing. I’m jealous because the girl I wanted to keep seeing only wants my boyfriend.”
Well.
“So,” you say, leaning towards them across the table. “You obviously want your boyfriend Doyoung, and you also want me. Doyoung wants me, and presumably since you’re in a relationship together, he wants you too. And I clearly want Doyoung since I’m on a second date with him and I’m still sitting here even after he told me that he’s also got a partner.” Johnny nods, patiently waiting for you to get to the point. “But I also want you, Johnny. Because ever since you walked into the cafe this morning, I’ve been beating myself up because I was getting ready for this date with Doyoung but I kept thinking about you, remembering and reimagining Valentine’s Day.”
Both of them are watching you closely.
“It seems to me that there’s a simple solution to our problem,” Johnny says as he leans in to rest his arms on the table. “Our relationship has been open all this time, looking for someone to make us complete even when we’re not together. You want both of us, we want you, and we want each other. It makes sense.”
Doyoung looks over at his boyfriend. “Are you suggesting a threesome or a thrupple?”
Johnny just shrugs. “Whatever she wants.”
Whatever you want? They’re going to put all of this on you?
Johnny leans back again, arm extending along the seat behind Doyoung’s head. Doyoung leans back too, sinking into Johnny’s side.
God, they make a pretty picture together.
You’re not sure that you can make it through a single night with them let alone joining into a relationship with them, but maybe.
“A trial run,” you suggest. You reach for what little remains in Johnny’s glass, and as you toss the drink down your throat, you’re not entirely sure if you’re hoping for it to quench the heat rising inside you or if you want it to make it burn hotter and brighter. “Why don’t we see what we can do tonight, and then I’ll decide what more I want.”
God, what have you done, you wonder as both of them smile.
Why do you feel like you’ve just signed a deal with two devils?
“I’m not complaining,” you complain, “But do I really have to sit alone back here?”
You’ve left the bar, all three of you climbing into Doyoung’s car. And although Doyoung had stopped drinking a while ago so he’d be good to drive, you and Johnny had consistently had drinks in hand up until right before Doyoung led you out the door. You’d expected one of them to sit in the back with you, and after Doyoung takes the driver’s seat, you’d expected that to be Johnny. He held the door open into the backseat for you, but after you slid in, he shut the door, and he took the front passenger seat.
Doyoung doesn’t answer your question, too focused on safely leaving the bar’s tiny parking lot.
Johnny glances back at you while he fiddles with the temperature controls. “Doyoungie is a very safe driver. He doesn’t tolerate distractions, and everything I would do if I was back there with you, baby, would be quite the distraction.”
You lean back, shoulders to the supple leather, and you spread your legs apart, tugging the hem of your dress up a little. You want to entice him to forget Doyoung’s safe-driving rules, to join you in the backseat. Johnny’s eyes narrow a little, zeroing in on the shadows beneath your dress.
“Hey.” Doyoung snaps. “Not yet.”
You look away from Johnny to see Doyoung watching you in the rearview mirror. “Then how should we fill the time? Ride in silence?”
Johnny twists back around to face the windshield, and teasingly says, “Doyoungie doesn’t ride anything in silence. He’s actually pretty noisy.”
“Oh, I know,” you reply, feeling a thrill when Doyoung whips his head around to glare at you and then at Johnny. “But, really, no music or anything for the drive? I want to hear your music, Doyoung.”
Out of respect, you didn’t Google him after the other night. You didn’t want to see a whole Wikipedia article about him because, honestly, if you saw that he was hugely popular, it just might intimidate you away from coming out with him tonight. And now that tonight is going the way that it is, that truly would have been a loss.
“I’ve got it.” Johnny reaches for his phone, quickly pulling up a music streaming service, scrolling until he finds the right song. Doyoung mumbles some half-hearted protests that quickly fade as his song begins playing through the car speakers. Johnny reaches over, taking one of Doyoung’s hands, and he brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of Doyoung’s hand. “Don’t be modest. Show off to the woman we’ve invited to our bed.”
The song is amazing. Doyoung’s voice fills the car, overflowing with emotion and passion and power. You can’t believe you’ve never heard it before, can’t believe that he’s not a household name. You lean forward between the two front seats, watching as Johnny queues up a few more songs. He’s still holding onto Doyoung’s hand, and Doyoung keeps stroking his thumb tenderly across Johnny’s knuckles.
“So what’s the story here?” You ask, then say, “Don’t drag me into this blind. I want to know some history about you two.”
Doyoung smiles, and without looking away from the road tells you, “We both work under the same label. Me, as an artist, and Johnny produces and DJs. We met when I was a trainee, and Johnny was also sort of training in music production.”
“Not sort of,” Johnny corrects, “I was full-time at the label’s building, taking production courses, sitting in the studio for 8 hours every night. Barely sleeping, only eating cheap food from convenience stores, trying to make music good enough for the label to actually sign me as an exclusive producer and to back me with the DJ career I wanted when I moved here from Chicago.”
Doyoung nods. “He was very hard-working. I first met him by accident when I walked into the wrong studio one night. It was so late that almost no one else was there, but I wanted to get in some extra hours practicing recording for this track the company wanted to hear from me as a trainee project. I was expecting my manager, but there was Johnny — bowed over the production table, frustrated and sleep-deprived, still handsome as hell even with a stubbly chin and bags under his eyes.”
Johnny rolls his eyes. “Flattering, Doyoungie.”
“Hey, I’m still here aren’t I? Clearly even in your less than top-notch appearance you still impressed me.” Doyoung squeezes Johnny’s hand, and Johnny looks away from his boyfriend and back down to his phone. A smile curves his lips, and you feel a flutter in your belly at the tenderness between them.
“Anyway,” Doyoung continues, “I ended up chatting with him for a little bit that night. I liked Johnny right away. Like I said, he was handsome, but while we talked I just found myself wanting more, to keep talking and to be in his company. So the next night I came back, and he was still there.”
“Not still there as in not having moved,” Johnny clarifies. “I’d gone home. Slept a little, ate a little. Showered and shaved and changed clothes and even put on my favorite fragrance that I’d not used much since moving here. I had a boy I wanted to impress.” Johnny looks back at you, his eyes alight as he says, “I was a bit of a player in Chicago, like didn’t let myself get tied into a relationship with any girl or boy that I hooked up with. And even after coming here, the few times I went out, I didn’t want it to mean much, but then meeting Doyoung that night, everything changed. Like he said, I wanted more. I was hooked on him after just that one little taste.”
Doyoung pulls up to a stoplight, and takes advantage of the moment where he doesn’t have to focus on the road. He quickly takes Johnny’s face in his hands, and you have a front row seat as Doyoung kisses Johnny. Johnny kisses back, both of them drawn into the heat of it until you hear a car honk behind you when the light changes.
Doyoung immediately breaks the kiss and snaps his attention back to driving the car.
“So, yeah, we met back up that night. And the next and the next.” Johnny tips his head back against his headrest, staring straight ahead. “Doyoung invited me to his practice studio sometimes to watch him dance and sing, and I picked up some choreography too. He and his manager frequently told me that they thought I could probably enter the idol trainee program too if I wanted.”
“Because you were good!” Doyoung interjects. “So good! Hot, talented, charismatic. The idol industry would be better off with you in it, fans would go wild for you.”
“I agree,” you say, leaning up to brush your fingers along the back of Johnny’s arm. “I mean, in the cafe you’ve got a whole set of fans behind the counter, and we’ve never seen you dance or heard you sing. We all just think you’re hot.”
Johnny turns his head. “That’s because you wanted to fuck me.”
“And? How’s that a whole lot different than how most fans look at idols? Yeah, people are there for talent too, but it’s the visuals that typically hook people in. It’s the illusion of a relationship that really gets fans to feel so attached. Isn’t it, Doyoung?”
He nods. “Yeah. The illusion of desirability. Making fans think there’s that possibility I could be theirs, or the delusion that they do possess me. Sasaengs. We’ve had to deal with those a few times.” He exchanges a look with Johnny. “But in the beginning, we didn’t have to worry about any of that. For one thing, I didn’t have fans yet, and also we were very private. Johnny and I limited ourselves to spending time together as friends in the company. Dance practice studio, vocal rooms, the studio. Sometimes we’d visit the cafe. Oh God, there was the picnic date on the rooftop, but that was before we really got together. Remember?” Doyoung looks at Johnny with a bright smile.
Johnny nods, his eyes drawing down to Doyoung’s lips. “I remember I fought every urge to pin you to that blanket and kiss you senseless on the roof. You had a filming later that day, and you were stressing about it, and I just wanted to kiss you, but I still couldn’t suss out if you felt the same towards me. So I waited for you to make a move.”
You slide your fingers around Johnny’s upper arm, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath the shirt. You just want to touch him, to feel connected to either of them or both of them while they tell you about their story.
Doyoung’s eyes lift to the rearview mirror, catching your gaze as he says, “We were at a wedding when it finally happened, funnily enough. One of the managers we were both close to was getting married, and Johnny and I were invited. There were drinks, food, music. Everything to put us in a good, bubbly mood. It was mostly the drinks, though. I think I was probably a bit drunk when we left.”
“Probably? Doyoung, you were on the verge of shit-faced,” Johnny teases.
Doyoung frowns slightly. “Regardless. Johnny was being a good friend and helping me home. He got me in a taxi, and he could’ve left me there. But I wouldn’t let him leave me. So he came with me on the ride back to the trainee dorm. All of the guys I was living with at the time were still back at the wedding, and I wasn’t close enough with any of them except maybe Taeyong for them to offer to help me home. So when we got there, Johnny and I were alone. And it was a sobering realization for me when we walked through the door of the dorm and it was quiet and dark. No one was around. We weren’t in any sort of professional setting like we always were at the label. It was just us. Just Doyoung and Johnny. And he had his hands on me, he was teasing me about something, and when I faced him, Johnny just smiled at me, and I knew in that moment that the way I felt about him was far beyond just friendly. So I kissed him.”
You can’t help the “Aww,” that leaves you at the sweetness of the moment.
Doyoung smiles, looking at you again. “We made out for quite a while that night, and we did stuff but didn’t go all the way. But Johnny reassured me that he wanted me too. And I begged him to—“
“You asked me to stay.” Johnny, still holding Doyoung’s hand, brings it up to his lips and kisses the back of it. “We went on a few dates after that. We took advantage of every private moment, but we both lived in apartments with a group of other guys so it wasn’t like there was much opportunity to have sex unless we wanted everyone to know, and since most of them aren’t too comfortable with the idea of gay sex, that was a no.”
“And then I debuted.” Doyoung sighs. “Right away they had me acting in webdramas, and then shortly after debut, like within the first six months, I was cast in a televised drama. Johnny passed the label’s tests and started producing; we even got to work together a few times. But the company surprisingly took a less-than-typical approach in pushing me to ignite a romance with my female co-star in the drama. It was a romance drama, so we definitely had chemistry on screen. And I liked her well-enough. But I had Johnny, although we hadn’t officially put a label on it, so if I let the company push me into it and hint to the public that she and I were dating, well, it felt like it would be cheating on Johnny.
“It wasn’t real, though. Not to me.” Doyoung flexes his hands on the wheel. “Johnny told me it was okay to fake the relationship, so I did it knowing that none of it was real. At the end of the day I would come back to the apartment I was sharing with my manager now that I’d debuted, and Johnny would be there waiting for dinner and a debrief, ready to sneak away to my room. It was a hell of a lot easier to hook up when my manager would turn a blind eye and just wear noise-canceling headphones.”
Johnny snickers. “The first Christmas Doyoungie and I were together, I gave his manager a really good set of noise-canceling headphones and a sincere apology for everything and anything he might have heard.”
Doyoung cracks a smile. “He definitely got tired of us. But my fake relationship with my co-star drew the attention the label and the showrunners wanted. The drama did good numbers, my first album sold well. Everything was looking good. And then one night while we were on a date, she tried seducing me.”
“Tried?” Johnny snorts. “She succeeded. You’d both been drinking together on a little paparazzi date. I’d been gone doing a tour of small festivals as a DJ, and you were horny.”
Doyoung turns his head towards his boyfriend, and you witness him roll his eyes. “She was a convenience in the moment. Yes, we were both pretty intoxicated. Yes, I was just horny and missing my boyfriend. So I let her blow me in the bathroom of the bar we were in. We were interrupted before she asked me to reciprocate, and then we went our separate ways for the night. I called Johnny and confessed immediately, and when he returned home a couple days later, we talked about it more. And it was then that we came to the decision to open our relationship a little bit. Only when the other is gone, no feelings, no repeats.” He waves his hand dismissively.
“Interesting.” You lean forward and rest your elbow on the center console, resting your chin on your hand. “So what made you bend the rules for me?”
Johnny slides his gaze to Doyoung’s profile. “Good question. Doyoung? Any answers?”
Doyoung scoffs. “As if you didn’t want to bend the rules for her too? I remember the way you talked about her when I got home after you two hooked up. Sounded to me like you wanted to see her again, and if she hadn’t run out after seeing my bunny, you would’ve asked her out again.”
Johnny looks back at you, flicks his gaze between your face and the low cut of your dress neckline. “Mm, you’re probably right. Baby, you’re an exception to the rules.”
Heat simmers in your belly. How much farther to get to their apartment?
“We’ve never really both done this with the same person before,” Doyoung adds, “Plus, we both really like you. So you are definitely exceptional.”
They’re going to inflate your ego too much if they don’t stop. Johnny picks up from where Doyoung leaves off, talking about your Valentine’s date, and certain points through the evening when he’d just been stunned by you, intrigued, finding himself falling a little bit more and more for you. Doyoung does the same, so by the time that he finally pulls the car up outside their apartment building, you’re warm from their praises, embarrassed and pleased in equal parts, just ready to get inside.
The apartment is familiar enough. You remember walking around it that one night with Johnny. You’re pleased to notice that it looks slightly less clean now than it had then. Maybe it’s because their cleaning lady hasn’t been by. Maybe it’s because Doyoung is home now, so they’ve both been home more. There are blankets bunched up on the couch, a book left open on the coffee table. Glasses and plates sit stacked messily beside the sink in the kitchen. A basket of laundry sits outside a closet where you suppose their washing machine and dryer are.
It looks lived-in now, and that somehow puts you even more at ease.
There’s even a new addition to the shelf of music awards and albums Johnny has worked on. And now, standing in front of it, you realize several of these aren’t just Johnny’s, but Doyoung’s too.
Doyoung has disappeared down the hall to their bedroom, and for the moment, as Johnny tries to tidy up a few things, you continue looking around. You study the albums and awards — a Song of the Year award for Doyoung, a production award for Johnny — and then you turn again to the artwork.
Now you realize why Doyoung looked familiar when you first met him. He’s the man pictured with Johnny a few times on their photo wall. Looking at them now, you can see the hints of their relationship in the photos — the way they look at each other, the affection and tenderness, the ways they lean into each other — and you turn to look at Johnny as he steps out of the kitchen.
“You know, I thought I vaguely recognized Doyoung from somewhere when I met him. I didn’t make the connection until just now.” You gesture at a specific photo of Johnny and Doyoung grinning at each other. “I guess looking at your wall decor was probably the least memorable part of our night together.”
“Yeah?” Johnny comes up beside you, his fingers gentle as he moves a section of your hair away from your neck. “What would you say you’re most eager to experience a repeat of?”
You suppress a shiver, memories flooding back in of Johnny’s tongue, hands, his strong body against yours.
“My mouth?” Johnny whispers, his breath is warm against your throat, touching your skin just a moment before his lips. “I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about the taste of you, the way you ground yourself against my face, the sounds you made, baby. Did Doyoungie taste you on your night together?”
Had he? Suddenly, you can’t remember.
You’re intoxicated on Johnny, your mind only able to call up thoughts of Johnny.
“Getting started without me?” Doyoung complains from the hallway.
You can’t answer, can’t draw away from the heat of Johnny curving against you. His lips move on your throat, his hand curling around your hip and bunching the skirt of your dress up a little. Your knees feel wobbly, ready to be off your feet, in their bed.
Johnny’s teeth scrape lightly over your skin before he pulls his mouth away, and he answers, “Just getting her warmed up for you, my love.”
You spin around in Johnny’s arms to face him, press your fingers to the back of his neck, and as you tip up on your toes, you guide Johnny’s mouth back to yours. His touch sears through the thin layer of your dress — hands skimming your sides, thumb brushing along the curve of your breast over your dress, burning back down to grasp at your hips and then your thighs, lifting and urging you to wrap your legs around him.
You fit perfectly in his arms, molded against his sculpted chest. You’re breathless and dizzy with kissing him even before he spins around and walks without breaking the kiss, too hungry for you to stop kissing you for anything.
“You’re going to hit something,” Doyoung half-heartedly protests as Johnny walks you towards his position in the hallway.
You loosen a hand from behind Johnny’s head, reaching blindly for Doyoung. When you find his shirt, you twist your fingers in, and you drag him closer. His chest hits your arm right as Johnny stops walking, and you break the kiss, turning your head to connect your lips with Doyoung’s.
His breath is minty, you realize as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Had he gone to brush his teeth while you and Johnny were out here?
You feel the heat of Johnny’s breath a moment before his lips are at your throat again.
Caught between the heat of Johnny’s mouth and the cool taste of Doyoung’s tongue, your body is a storm. Electricity bolts through your veins, racing fire across your skin everywhere that they touch you. Your mind swirls, unable to focus on one single thing between Johnny’s hands caressing your thighs, Doyoung tangling his fingers in your hair, Johnny taking your earlobe gently between his teeth, Doyoung sucking on your tongue.
You feel molten. You feel alive. You feel like desire made flesh.
“More,” you moan, hungrily pressing your lips back to Doyoung’s the moment the syllable passes from your tongue.
Johnny chuckles right against your ear. “You want us to take you to bed, baby?”
Deep down, you’re not sure you’re really ready for this, not sure that you’ll actually be able to handle both of them at the same time. Individually they each blew your mind and overworked your body (in the best way), so together, well, you’re pretty sure they’ll do some damage (again, in a good way).
Johnny waits for your answer, not moving an inch more until you break the kiss with Doyoung to verbally confirm, “Yes. God, yes.”
Immediately, Johnny walks away from Doyoung with you in his arms, and almost before you can process that you’re inside the bedroom, Johnny is tossing you onto the bed. You push yourself up on your elbows, and there they are.
Doyoung stands just behind Johnny at the edge of the bed, both of them staring hungrily at you, and you stare right back at them. Doyoung, with his need to touch, reaches around Johnny’s sides, fingers twisting in the fabric of Johnny’s shirt as he leans in, his lips brushing Johnny’s skin as he whispers something not meant for you to hear.
Johnny turns his head towards his boyfriend, and silent words pass between them before he nods. Doyoung nuzzles against Johnny’s throat, his fingers working at pulling the hem of Johnny's shirt up.
Helpfully, you stretch out your foot, lifting it to the front of Johnny’s pants, tracing your toes over the definite bulge in the front of his pants.
Johnny’s eyes meet yours, dark and electric. He grabs your ankle, pushes your foot back down to the bed, and he holds it there. “What do you think you’re doing? Just lay back and watch, baby.”
You pout. “What? Am I just supposed to watch the two of you together?”
Doyoung moans softly against Johnny’s neck, he licks a stripe along his throat. You notice he doesn’t use teeth, doesn’t suck harshly as he’d done with you the other night. With Johnny, he just gets a taste of him, and you wonder if it’s because neither of them can have visible marks left for the public to see.
“Doyoungie wants you to watch us,” Johnny tells you. “But if you’re a good girl for us, there are plenty of rewards on the table.”
Your body thrills at the thought of what those rewards could possibly be. But also, what does being a good girl entail?
As if he can read your thoughts, Johnny explains. “Just watch us, baby. Don’t touch yourself.”
Oh, he just wants you so worked up by the time they’re finished with each other that it’ll probably just take one measly touch from either Doyoung or Johnny to make you crumble.
Doyoung draws his mouth away at last. He rests his chin on Johnny’s shoulder as he looks at you. “We’re going to give you everything you want, darling. You’ll just have to wait a little longer. Johnny just looks too hot tonight, and I need my boyfriend.”
The satisfied smirk that grows on Johnny’s face right then sends a ripple of lust through your belly. You want to squeeze your legs together, to sit up to watch them, but Johnny is still pinning your foot to the bed, making you leave that leg spread open a bit.
“And besides,” Johnny says, “Didn’t you say you didn’t want to walk into this thing with us blind? We’ve both seen how you are with us, so maybe you should get to see how we are with each other.”
“As long as that’s something you want?” Doyoung puts it forward almost as a question, a check-in that everything that’s happening is still ok. “If you don’t want to watch us together, I’d understand. Even if you agreed to a threesome with us, like guy on guy action isn’t necessarily something you’d have to agree to with that.”
But you do want to see it.
You really do.
There’s something so incredibly hot about two extremely attractive people together. Whether they’re two men, two women, a man and a woman, two nonbinary people. It literally doesn’t matter to you. If they’re hot and they want you to watch, you’re here for it. Especially since it’s Doyoung and Johnny.
“Show me.” You scoot back on the bed, and Johnny releases your ankle, allowing you to reposition yourself back among their pillows leaned against the headboard. “Are you gonna put on a show for me, or just pretend that I’m not here?”
Johnny laughs. “I don’t think either of us could forget you’re here.”
“Definitely not,” Doyoung agrees.
Again, both of their gazes sear across your skin, snaring on the way that your dress is sitting a little high on your thighs, the way the neckline has been tugged low from the way you maneuvered yourself on the bed. You make yourself comfortable on the bed, and you raise an eyebrow at the pair of them. “Well?”
Johnny sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes a little too. “Don’t get too bossy, baby, or else I’m revoking some of the reward for later. Brats get punishments, not pleasure.”
“Yes, sir.” You wink at Doyoung, who just smirks.
The thing is, in the span of three seconds, their attitudes change. You can almost fully see the shift happening as they devote their attention to each other, putting you on the back-burner for the moment. Johnny turns around to Doyoung; Doyoung is just a bit shorter than Johnny, just enough that he needs to lift his eyes to meet his boyfriend’s. Johnny curls a hand against the side of Doyoung’s neck, his thumb spanning across the front of Doyoung’s throat in a way that has both you and Doyoung swallowing — and for you, you swear you can feel Johnny’s phantom touch on your skin.
And then Johnny kisses Doyoung.
Your body burns with longing as you watch the kiss consume both of them. Johnny cradles Doyoung’s cheek with one hand, the other still curled lightly around his throat. Doyoung sinks against Johnny, but his hands bury beneath Johnny’s shirt, roving around to his back and then around to his stomach, pushing the shirt higher and higher.
Johnny steps back, breaking the kiss and his hold on Doyoung just long enough to reach back and effortlessly drag his shirt over his head.
God.
He drops it to the floor, and goes right back to kiss his boyfriend.
God.
You can stop looking at Johnny’s arms. He’s just so big.
And now without Johnny’s shirt in the way, there’s nothing blocking your view of Doyoung’s wandering hands. His beautiful hands.
Johnny moves them both, positioning Doyoung so when Johnny tips him backwards, Doyoung falls onto the bed. Johnny climbs on after him, and now you’ve got a beautiful, perfect view of Johnny’s torso — his muscular arms and his toned chest and those abs and the way his body just glistens and draws your attention tapering down to the waistband of his jeans, which Doyoung is frantically trying to unfasten the button of.
Johnny brushes Doyoung’s hand away, and Doyoung groans with frustration, which Johnny quickly silences again with his lips. He sinks over Doyoung, and you watch in hot-and-bothered delight as they continue making out, as Johnny starts grinding his crotch against Doyoung’s.
Doyoung’s hands clutch at Johnny’s hips, and every few seconds he lets out this sweet gasping moan.
Johnny reaches down and pushes Doyoung thighs up, making it a little easier for Johnny to grind against him, and this also moves them both a little higher up the bed towards you.
Each new sound Doyoung lets out makes you just a little bit more turned on. When Johnny bites on Doyoung’s lip as he backs off, and Doyoung lets out a truly pathetic whimper while Johnny looks up at you, your pussy gives a throb of need, though you’re not really sure in the moment which one of them you wish you were.
And then Johnny backs off a little, sliding back down Doyoung’s body, letting Doyoung’s legs straighten out again as Johnny settles between his knees.
Doyoung’s chest rapidly rises and falls, breathless. He tilts his head back just a little, searching for you, and you reach forward, reassuringly touching your fingers to the top of his head. He smiles and looks back at Johnny.
Johnny who is now stroking his hand back and forth over the front of Doyoung’s pants, following the line of his erection.
You squeeze your legs together, wanting nothing more right now than to touch yourself just a little bit, just to take a small fraction of the edge off. But you clench your hands on top of the pillows at your sides, and you just watch Johnny grind the heel of his palm along Doyoung’s clothed dick; you watch Doyoung writhe, rocking his hips up against Johnny’s touch.
“Jyani-yah,” Doyoung moans affectionately, “Stop playing with me. You know what I need.”
“Do you need it?” Johnny teases his fingers against the button of Doyoung’s pants, as if he might pop the button open. “What is it you need, Doyoungie?”
“Suck me off,” Doyoung demands, though there’s certainly a hint of a whine in his voice.
The button slides through the opening. Doyoung rocks his hips up against nothing. Johnny sits back, looking consideringly down at his boyfriend, glances up at you, then reaches for Doyoung’s zipper.
At this point, in all of Doyoung’s wiggling around, his shirt has ridden up too, making it very visible as his stomach flexes with each eager roll of his hips. And you’re also given a clear view as Johnny unzips Doyoung’s pants to reveal that Doyoung isn’t wearing any underwear at all.
“Oh, Doyoungie,” Johnny clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Did you think you were gonna get lucky fast tonight with our girl on your date? You skipped the underwear to make it easier?” Johnny drags Doyoung’s pants down his hips with a jerking motion. They slide down, revealing his erection and the soft black shadow of hair around the base. Johnny shakes his head, still with an air of mock-disapproval, and instead of touching Doyoung, he looks at you.
Is he gonna put this on you somehow? Tell you that now you’re definitely getting a punishment instead of a reward later?
“Y’know, when he and I first got together,” Johnny tells you, “He was insatiable. Doyoungie constantly wanted to sneak off to closets or bathrooms, empty studios or the rooftop, anywhere we could be alone because he wanted his dick sucked. You’d have thought he was a virgin before we met, that he just couldn’t get enough of my mouth because it was the first he’d ever had.”
Doyoung whines, draping an arm over his eyes. “You’re making me sound bad.”
“No,” Johnny says, reaching for the arm, pulling it away from Doyoung’s face. “I’m telling the truth. Did you not constantly beg me to suck you off? At first, it just made me feel really good, I thought I must be pretty great at giving head for him to want it so badly. Not that I’d ever had complaints before, but no one was ever so needy for it. Of course, after a while I realized our Doyoung just likes blowjobs. Mostly receiving, though he also enjoys giving them too.”
Your attention drifts from Johnny’s face, down his chest, back down to Doyoung’s raging erection waiting there expectantly for Johnny’s touch.
“If I hadn’t shown up tonight,” Johnny continues, “He’d probably have had you on your knees in that bar’s restroom, sucking him off before he took you to another hotel or back to your place.”
“Like how I had you the day we first went out?” You say it before you can think about whether you should say it or not.
Johnny’s gaze narrows. “Exactly. But you were at my mercy that day.”
You can’t fight down the shiver at the memory, Johnny counting down the time left in your break, telling you to cum for him before your time was up. God, the memory of his fingers and his mouth, the knowledge that you were doing it in such an inappropriate place. Your panties are at present soaked.
As if Johnny knows that, he grins as he looks away. He returns his attention to Doyoung who is actually still looking up at you, his focus fixed at the small glimpse of your panties he can see from this angle while your legs are curved and knees bent up slightly. He licks his lips, glancing up at you and then at Johnny.
Again, a silent bit of communication passes between them.
“Aw, fuck it,” Johnny groans. He slides back a little more, dragging Doyoung’s pants the rest of the way down.
Doyoung sits up, his hands flying as he removes his shirt, wadding it into a ball and tossing it off the foot of the bed. He sinks back down, lying there nude in the bed, gazing up at Johnny as the elder of the two sinks down onto his knees and elbows between Doyoung’s legs.
His sweet, pretty cock twitches at all the attention, with all the need to be touched, the anticipation of having it soon.
“Baby,” Johnny says, his voice dipping low and gruff as he instructs you, “I know I said no touching, that rewards will come later, but now I’m saying fuck that. I’m gonna suck him off, but, Doyoung, you have to work for it. Baby, sit on his face. Doyoungie doesn’t get to cum until after you do.”
You’re not entirely sure what brought about this change in events, but you’re not going to complain.
You don’t bother to try to wrestle your panties down your thighs. You don’t give Johnny the chance to reconsider, especially not when Doyoung tilts his head back and he looks right into your eyes with a look of desperate hunger that sets your pussy alight with need. You push away from the headboard, rise to your knees, and settle above Doyoung’s head. His cock twitches again between his legs, right before Johnny’s face.
You can feel Doyoung’s warm breath against your inner thighs. When you look down, you can see him licking his lips, his mouth so full and pretty.
His fingers slide up your legs, pushing your dress up a little as they skim along your inner thighs, and then Doyoung hooks one finger around the fabric over your pussy, and he drags it to the side.
“Sit down,” he demands, his voice a little breathless but still in control.
You feel the sweep of his tongue along your slit, and any remaining strength in your thighs fails, dropping you down right onto Doyoung’s eager mouth.
And then Johnny, with a grin, lowers his head.
Watching Johnny suck Doyoung’s cock while Doyoung does his very best to eat you out, just adds a whole new layer of arousal to everything.
Doyoung loops his arms around your thighs, his moans buried right against your core as he licks and sucks, as you roll your hips because you just need more. And watching Johnny bob his head on Doyoung’s length makes you wish that you were down there too. You liked giving Doyoung a blowjob the other night; the way that he’d cum over your lips, and he didn’t even care about the mess when he kissed you after.
Johnny looks up when you fall forward onto your hands, lowering your torso over Doyoung until your head hovers at his hip.
Behind you, Doyoung has lifted his head from the bed, chasing the taste of you on his tongue. His hands caress your hips and your ass now as he flicks his tongue against your clit, sliding two fingers inside you.
“Yes, Doyoung!” You moan, rolling your hips back against his face, and you drop your head down to rest on his hip.
Johnny pulls off of Doyoung’s cock, just using his hand for a moment. “All good, baby?”
“Mm. So good.” Your eyelids flutter. “Can I have a taste?”
Johnny looks at you, considering for a moment while he circles the pad of his thumb around the sensitive tip of Doyoung’s cock. Doyoung whines against you, thrusting his hips up through Johnny’s hold, ready to have Johnny’s mouth back around him.
“Here, baby,” Johnny says, leaning in to press his lips gently against yours for a second before he withdraws again, and he angles Doyoung’s cock towards your mouth.
Happily, you lean up to accept.
It feels so good, this circular pleasure of you and Doyoung with your mouths on each other. You reposition a little so you can take him deeper down your throat, so you can still grind on his face while he fingers and licks you out. You put your hands around the base of his cock, just bobbing your head, keeping your lips tight around his tip and flicking your tongue along the weeping slit there, the taste of him bursting over your tongue.
“Good girl,” Johnny murmurs the praise. He’s still on his belly right there in front of you, and when you open your eyes, you’re face-to-face. His eyes are fixed on your lips, Doyoung’s cock disappearing between them. “You’re taking him so well, baby. Is he making you feel good too?”
You moan your approval.
“Yeah? I bet he is.” Johnny lifts a hand to pet your hair. “You’re so pretty like this with your mouth full of cock. Fuck, the way that you looked when I fucked your face – I’ve been thinking about that since that night.” His hand falls to your cheek, his thumb brushing along the stretched shape of your lips around Doyoung.
Behind you, Doyoung’s teeth skim your clit, and your whole body jolts. You try to gasp, but with your mouth full of cock, you just end up choking. He curls his fingers inside you, his thumb takes over at your clit as his head falls back.
“Shit,” he moans aloud, “I’m gonna cum.”
Johnny’s fingers twist suddenly in your hair, yanking you up. Doyoung’s cock falls from your lips, a string of saliva all that is connecting you. Sharply, Johnny says, “Not yet. She’s not cum yet, Doyoung.”
The sound of annoyance from Doyoung brings a frown to Johnny’s face.
To your surprise, he slaps Doyoung’s cock, which inspires a yelp from the man beneath you, but judging by the way that his cock throbs, you’d say he liked it a little too much.
“She’s dripping on your mouth, my love, don’t you think it’s only fair to let her cum first?” Johnny again leans in and kisses you briefly, too fast for you to enjoy.
“Of course,” Doyoung says, the whine more evident in his tone now than earlier. “But you keep distracting both of us.”
Johnny smiles. “I think your cock is the distraction, actually, Doyoung. Baby, why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
You’re still wearing your dress, and it tickles against your skin as you kneel back upright, hovering for the moment above Doyoung’s face, out of his reach so he can catch his breath. Your dress pools around your thighs, and you know that when you sit down again, it’ll be hiding your pussy and Doyoung’s head from view. Irritated at the thought that you won’t be able to see him and neither will Johnny, you reach back, struggling with the zipper for a moment, and then it slides free. You slide the straps of your dress from your shoulders, yank the whole thing up over your head, and drop it beside you onto the bed.
“Fuck,” Johnny murmurs, in awe as he drinks in the pretty lingerie you put on earlier, intending for Doyoung to be the one to see it. But right now he can’t see a damn thing except for the crotch of your panties which are still pulled to the side. “Did you dress up like this just for Doyoung, baby? Where was this on Valentine’s Day?”
Pretty lacy and red, this bra and panties hugs you perfectly. It’s semi-transparent, showing off your skin between the curls and vines of lace, your nipples fully obvious to Johnny’s predatory gaze right now. He looks like he could devour you, like you’re some finely wrapped pastry for him alone.
“I bought it to wear for Doyoung.” A lie. But you see the flare of jealousy in Johnny’s eyes. “After I left work earlier. I went shopping for this. I picked it out, the whole time imagining Doyoung tearing it off of me tonight.”
Between you and Johnny, you see Doyoung’s neglected cock twitch. He moans beneath you, sighing, “I want to see.”
Johnny’s eyes narrow. “Not yet, Doyoung.”
“I’m not gonna fucking wait around all night,” Doyoung grumbles beneath you. “She’s wearing it for me. Sit down.” Again, the tone is bossy, demanding, pretty hot. Doyoung grabs both of your hips, and he drops you down on his waiting tongue.
You lace your fingers through Doyoung’s at your hips, and you start riding his face and his chin, both of you working together fast to bring you to orgasm. You’re not sure where Doyoung was hiding this oral skill just minutes ago, although maybe he truly was just that distracted by you and Johnny sucking his cock. But now? Now, oh my God, his tongue twists like magic, thrusting into you while you grind your clit against his chin. You ride his tongue, feeling the knot in your belly begin to tighten as Doyoung laps against your clit, stroking his tongue along the length of your slit, burying his face as much against you as he can without suffocating himself.
Pathetic noises begin to fall from your lips, and you fall forward again, towards Johnny although you catch yourself on your hands before you can sink all the way back down to his level again.
His eyes hungrily settle on your tits encased in the pretty lingerie bra.
Now at this new angle, Doyoung swirls his tongue against your clit, loosens one of his hands from your hold at your hip, and he fills your pussy with his fingers again while his tongue works ceaselessly at your clit.
“Doyoung! Doyoung, oh God,” you moan, feeling the moment as your balance starts to tip from simple pleasure to the uncontrollable sweetness of climax.
Johnny lurches up, crushing his lips against yours. Doyoung curls his fingers, stroking just right over that spot inside you while simultaneously moving his tongue over your clit in a way that’s got you absolutely spellbound.
The dam inside you breaks open, your orgasm coursing through you. Johnny’s arms wrap around you, his mouth covering yours as he swallows down all of the sounds intended for Doyoung. Doyoung keeps going, even as you can feel yourself squirting a little bit; you just know that your wetness is leaking down his cheeks and chin, but Doyoung licks it all up, moaning against you while your hips keep rolling, riding his face and his fingers for all you can get.
Your climax tapers off, the pleasure fading away.
Johnny sinks away, returning to his place between Doyoung’s legs. You withdraw from Doyoung’s face even as he starts to kiss down your thighs, his tongue cleaning up your mess. He only stops and lets up his hold on you a bit when Johnny says, “It’s your turn now, Doyoung.”
Doyoung’s hands slip away from your thighs and hips, allowing you to turn around.
You move so your back is now to Johnny as you straddle Doyoung’s waist, so you’re looking down at his face. His eyes are dark, rabid with lust as he gets his first full look at you in your lingerie, his gaze covering you from top to bottom, and his tongue darts out to taste the gleam of your cum on his lips and chin. Doyoung smiles, satisfied, and you just have to lean in, have to capture his lips with yours and taste yourself on his tongue.
Your belly rests against Doyoung’s, your tits against his chest as you lower yourself against him. You can feel Johnny’s hair brushing your thighs as he takes Doyoung’s cock deep; you can hear the wet sounds of Johnny sucking his boyfriend off. Doyoung moans into your mouth, the kiss turning sloppy as it mostly becomes tongues and Doyoung’s sounds, growing noisier as Johnny edges him closer to orgasm.
You really like kissing Doyoung. You could happily lie here and kiss him for ages.
But he keeps moving, lifting his hips to meet Johnny’s lips, trying to bury himself down Johnny’s throat. Although, after a few minutes, you feel Johnny’s fingertips bump against your legs when he plants his hands on Doyoung’s abdomen to pin him down, to have better control of how he sucks Doyoung off.
“Is he good at that?” You murmur the question against Doyoung’s lips.
He moans, the sound pitching higher at the end. You think there’s a nod, but Doyoung is starting to get twitchy, his hands moving to touch you and touch Johnny. He must be getting close.
“You’re both really skilled at eating pussy, so I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising either of you’d be good at this.” You kiss Doyoung again, sucking on his tongue in a way that emulates what Johnny’s doing right now, and all Doyoung can do is let out this incredibly needy moan.
Johnny pulls off of Doyoung’s cock with a pop. You feel his hand jerking up and down Doyoung’s length, knuckles brushing your inner thighs faster and faster as Doyoung’s moans reach a fever pitch.
The splash of heat between your legs is a mild surprise. You look back over your shoulder to see that Johnny is directing Doyoung’s cock towards your ass as he cums – your panties are still dragged to the side from Doyoung eating you out, so now streaks of Doyoung’s sticky semen stripe your ass, your inner thighs, dripping down over your back entrance and your slit. Johnny’s mouth massages the underside of Doyoung’s cock, tongue tracing along a vein there that seems to spur a strong release as Doyoung’s cock twitches and shoots out a bit more cum as he weakly cries out Johnny’s name.
You turn back towards Doyoung, closing the distance, kissing him with your hands on his cheeks while he finishes between your legs.
And then you feel Johnny.
His mouth, hot and still hungry, sticky between your legs as he uses his tongue to clean up Doyoung’s cum. At first he focuses on just your less sensitive skin – your thighs, the curve of your ass. And then his tongue flicks over your asshole – an unexpected move that has your pussy and ass clenching, warm arousal as you imagine Johnny taking your ass – and he moves along, licking and sucking, eating up Doyoung’s cum from your delicate folds to your clit, and then he’s moving back along your slit to masterfully eat you out in a way that has you orgasming in moments, thighs squeezing around his head, your pussy pulsing and leaving your wetness spread across his lips and chin.
Johnny pulls back. You feel the mattress shift, and he throws himself to lie down beside you and Doyoung on the bed.
You watch as Johnny licks his lips and his fingers clean. “Best of both,” he moans, and then he rolls onto his side, leaning in to kiss Doyoung right there in front of you, his fingers braiding into Doyoung’s pale blond hair.
You feel weak. Pleasure tingles through you all the way down to your toes. Your heart thunders, racing against Doyoung’s where your chests are pressed together. You don’t want to move, and you probably don’t have to.
As soon as Johnny finishes kissing Doyoung, he kisses you, his fingers weaving through your hair as well. It’s a deep kiss, a thorough kiss in which you can taste yourself and Doyoung on Johnny’s tongue. It’s a kiss that steals what little breath you’ve regained after that orgasm. It’s a kiss that leads into another one as Johnny pulls back and uses his hold on both of you to bring his mouth and your mouth and Doyoung’s together.
A three-way kiss.
It’s just as hot to experience as it is to watch. You’ve seen a movie where they did this, and yes, you wondered how it would feel. And now you’re doing it; feeling Johnny and Doyoung’s lips and tongues and noses and cheeks, hearing moans and soft panting, all the skin pressed together between you and Doyoung and Johnny. He moves in closer and closer until you’re somehow sliding off of where you’ve been positioned on Doyoung’s chest, and Johnny is fitting himself between you two.
And he’s still wearing his goddamn jeans.
You extract yourself from the kiss – leaving Johnny and Doyoung to continue making out; Doyoung’s hands roving over Johnny’s sides – and you reach for the button of his jeans.
Johnny moans a little into the kiss with Doyoung as you slide your hand into his pants.
His cock is hard and heavy, neglected all this time that he was making sure that you and Doyoung were getting your pleasure. It’s his turn now.
You rejoin the kiss, finding that they’re both eager to welcome you back in. You keep your hand on Johnny inside his pants, stroking his length, twisting your wrist on the upstroke until Johnny finally backs out of the kiss.
He kneels above you and Doyoung, looking down at the pair of you so relaxed and breathing heavily in the sheets. He plucks your hand from inside his pants, letting it fall onto Doyoung’s belly, who immediately reaches for your hand to knot his fingers with yours.
“Baby,” Johnny says, his voice serious. “Do you want one of us to fuck you tonight?”
“Preferably. Otherwise I got all dressed up for nothing.” You shift, drawing their attention back to the pretty lingerie. “And I have been thinking of nothing else all day. Horny from the moment I woke up, if I’m being honest.”
A muscle in Johnny’s jaw flexes. He glances momentarily at Doyoung, and then his gaze zeroes back in on yours, holding your attention as he now asks, “Let me be more clear. Do you only want Doyoung tonight? He’s who you were thinking of all day. He’s the one you wore the pretty clothes for. He’s the one that you were already planning on having sex with.”
You roll your eyes. “No, Johnny. While I started out the morning only thinking about my plans tonight with Doyoung, at some point this morning while you were in the cafe, you wormed your way back into my thoughts. I was all hot and bothered, thinking about you. Both of you.” You look back over at Doyoung, not wanting him to feel left out either. He squeezes your hand on his belly, and you continue saying, “I don’t care which one of you I fuck tonight because I want both of you. I don’t care who rips this lingerie off of me as long as one or both of you do. Tonight I want nothing more than to just be shared by you two.”
“Honestly, I really want to watch you together,” Doyoung admits, stroking his fingers along the back of your hand. “Ever since hearing Johnny first talk about you, I wanted to see.”
Heat flares beneath your skin.
“I have a hot boyfriend,” Doyoung says, “Can you blame me for wanting to watch him in action?”
“Then watch us.” You sit up, rise onto your knees, and without further ado, you drag down the waist of Johnny’s jeans.
Johnny grabs you by the hips, yanking you closer, holding you against him as his lips find yours. Your hands wrap around his cock, stroking even while Johnny tries to rub against your belly. You can tell he’s more desperate for it right now than he probably usually lets on; you have a feeling that he’s not used to waiting for long to get his own taste of extra sweet pleasure, that he doesn’t usually exhibit such patience as he just showed for you and Doyoung.
“Fuck me,” you murmur against his lips. “Fuck me, Johnny.”
He feels so big and strong as he manhandles you, dragging you to the edge of the bed. He puts a hand to your throat, holding you back as you try to chase his lips when he leans away.
“Ah-ah, baby,” Johnny chastises. “I think by letting you and Doyoung play with each other, you forgot who’s in charge here. Who’s in charge, baby?”
“You,” you answer, not letting your eyes waver from his. “Johnny, you are.”
He smiles. “That’s right. Now, you may claim that you wore these pretty clothes for our Doyoung tonight, but I’m going to be the one tearing them off of you, okay, baby?”
God, you hope he does. Your pussy clenches hungrily, hot and wet with arousal just thinking about it. You lift your chin, still holding Johnny’s gaze as you say, “They were expensive. Don’t rip them.”
Johnny’s fingers twitch against your throat. “I’ll buy you ten new, more expensive sets, baby. But these are coming off.”
Despite the heat behind his words, Johnny doesn’t look away from your face until you nod, and then he’s in action. His hand falls from your throat to brush away the strap of your bra, letting it slip down your shoulder, and then his fingertips curl against the lacy fabric over your breast, jerking it down to reveal your peaked nipple, which he quickly covers with his mouth.
You moan and arch into the heat of his mouth. Your hands fly to his biceps, feeling the muscles flexing beneath your touch as Johnny slides the other bra strap down, tugs the fabric away over your other breast. He reaches around behind you, tugging, jerking at the tough clasp at the back until you finally hear a faint ripping sound and the fabric flutters down to the sheets.
Damn, it’s a good thing this wasn’t actually expensive, you might have actually been upset.
His hand trails down your back along your spine until his hand pushes beneath your panties, following the curve of your ass. His mouth moves from one tit to the other as you feel his fingers dip lower, exploring the wet heat between your legs. Johnny fills you with two fingers, pumping them inside you, flicking his tongue against your nipple in a way that has your body tingling, heat flaring along your veins.
“Gonna cum already for me, baby? You’ll give poor Doyoung an inferiority complex if I can make you cum so quickly compared to him.” Johnny teases, lifting his smirk from your breast to peer over your shoulder at his boyfriend reclined behind you. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me, baby. Dripping down my fingers, I bet I could slide my cock right inside you with no problem. What do you think, Doyoungie?”
Doyoung just moans softly before finally saying, “She gets so wet. I’d almost forgotten girls were like that, but I don’t think I ever was with a girl that gets like she does.”
“No, me neither,” Johnny replies. “Pussy lost my interest a while ago, but she’s just got the wettest, sweetest tasting one I can remember.”
You squirm, moaning and clutching tighter at Johnny’s arms with a whine as he continues fingering you while he and Doyoung talk about you like you’re not really there. Johnny swats his free hand against your ass, and he slips his fingers out of your panties, instead squeezing your ass with his damp fingers.
“Stay still.” Johnny’s hands drop down behind your thighs, and in one smooth move, he’s lifting you, tipping you back onto your back while also somehow hooking his fingers in your panties and ripping them down your legs.
Your head lands on Doyoung’s stomach. Johnny’s hands are on your thighs, lifting your knees back towards your chest as he settles between your legs. Doyoung touches your hair with one hand, the other goes to your tits, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.
You’re completely bare now in the broad, clear light of their bedroom, spread out for both of them to see.
“Fucking pretty,” Doyoung praises.
“Absolutely,” Johnny agrees. His thumbs sweep along your inner thighs on the way down to spread your pussy lips apart.
Doyoung pinches your nipple a little roughly. A yelp leaves you, your pussy twitching with need, and to your utter disappointment, Johnny slides away for a moment.
You hear the rustle of fabric, a soft thunk as the phone in Johnny’s jean pocket hits the floor, the last of his clothing shed as he climbs back into bed. You see just a flash of a discarded condom wrapper, and a glimpse down Johnny’s perfect body reveals him rolling the condom down his length.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Doyoung told Johnny that he fucked you raw. But before you can ponder that any further, Johnny is moving forward.
He teases his cock along your slit, gathering your wetness at the tip, and then right as Doyoung tugs on your damn nipple again, Johnny pushes in. The double-sided maneuver by the two men captures you in a wave of pleasure – the sharp zip of painful pleasure from Doyoung’s fingers at your chest, and the sweet burn of Johnny’s big cock filling your pussy. But it feels so good as Johnny presses deep into you, as you tip your head back on Doyoung’s belly and struggle to draw in breath around the urge to moan and cry out their names.
You can feel Johnny in your belly. Doyoung finally stops torturing your nipple, and instead caresses your breast, swirling his thumb in tight circles around the sensitive bud. Johnny urges your knees over his shoulders, making it even easier for him to sink his incredible cock impossibly deeper.
“Ah, shit, listen to her, Doyoungie,” Johnny groans, “You’ve got competition for being so noisy.”
You’re making pathetic moans and whimpers, you just know you are, though you can’t comprehend the sound of anything leaving your mouth.
Johnny draws his hips back, making his own share of stifled moans as he feels your pussy sucking hungrily and greedily around him. He stops with just the tip left inside you. He slides his hand tenderly along the outside of your thigh, and then thrusts back in most of the way, pulls back, grinds in, continuing on and on with these torturous teasing thrusts that don’t hit as deep as you need from him.
Before long, you know you’re just moaning and babbling, grasping at his arms. There are tears burning at the outer corners of your eyes. You can hear the sloppy wet sound of your pussy with each of Johnny’s thrusts, and climax is a constant presence at the edge of your awareness, so close that you can just almost reach it, but Johnny somehow keeps it right there beyond your fingertips with these too-shallow yet powerful, quick thrusts.
“Look at her being so sweet now,” Doyoung says, his voice tight with barely restrained lust. “She was a little bit bratty before, wasn’t she? She’s so sweet with me, but with you, Johnny, a little less sweet, more spicy.”
Johnny laughs, exchanging a look with his boyfriend. “She’s the perfect balance for our tastes, isn’t she? Sweet and spicy, a good girl and a brat. A perfect pussy for my cock, and no gag reflex to satisfy your oral fixation, my love.”
Suddenly you’re aware of the way Doyoung’s hand has left off playing with your tits, and you realize his hand is busy beside your head, stroking his erection. He’s hard again from watching you and Johnny together. You want to help him, to feel the weight and heat and taste of him again on your tongue.
You twist your head, straining a little to get your mouth at his cock.
And then Johnny’s fingers are on your chin, turning your head toward him, his eyes are on yours again. He releases his chin to instead cradle your cheek, thumb brushing away a spilled tear. “Are you okay?”
“Wanna suck,” is all that you can successfully manage to get out.
“Hear that?” Johnny says to Doyoung, “She hasn’t had enough. She wants to help you out.”
You open your mouth, waiting as Doyoung directs his cock to your waiting lips.
For a moment all you do is suck at the tip. It’s all you can reach at this odd angle with your head propped on Doyoung’s stomach while Johnny has you bent in two. You taste the salty hint of Doyoung’s sweat and his arousal on your tongue, and you need more.
Both of them seem to understand your need at the same time.
Johnny's hand is on the back of your head, pushing you to take Doyoung further. At the same time, Doyoung thrusts in.
You take him to the back of your throat, swallowing and moaning around him.
Johnny fucks you while he also helps guide you to get your face fucked by Doyoung. Doyoung’s hips rock off the bed to meet each push of Johnny's hand against your head, and you just unlock your jaw, and sink into the feeling, loving every bit of it.
The three of you are a tangle of limbs and lust, sweat and swearing, moans and skin meeting skin. Tears and drool stain your cheeks, sweat dampens your hairline and everywhere that your body is bent, and you’re just so fucking wet as Johnny keeps plunging into you, his fingers knotted in your hair, Doyoung’s cock buried so deep that you couldn’t breathe even if you wanted to. Doyoung’s hips rock against your face, Johnny’s smack against your ass.
You feel like you were made for this moment, molded in the perfect shape to be shared by them. Every thought but the two of them finding their release in you leaves your mind, leaving you in a strange blank place of bliss in which all you can do is moan and suck and succumb to the pulsing and throbbing of your orgasm, pussy pulsing around Johnny.
Doyoung cums over the back of your tongue, down your throat, with a cry of your name. Johnny follows just a few moments later, bending your body in two, your knees pressed to your chest as he presses so deep inside you while he cums inside the condom.
You’re floating somewhere far away when they each pull out of you.
You only get the most vague sense of Johnny tenderly, ever-so-gently lowering your legs from his shoulders down to the bed. You barely notice the way that Doyoung starts whining oversensitively as you keep absently sucking at the tip of his softening cock until Johnny strokes his fingers through your hair and at your cheeks, easing you off of Doyoung, wrapping his arms around you, gathering you against his chest.
“You did so good, baby,” Johnny murmurs, kissing your cheek. “You took it so well. You’re amazing, our pretty girl.”
Johnny’s arms feel warm, solid and safe around you. He tucks you against his chest when he leans back against the pillows at the top of his and Doyoung’s bed, he rests his chin on the top of your head, brushing another kiss to your hair.
“We didn’t take it too far, did we?” Doyoung asks. You feel his weight shift on the mattress, and then he’s right there on Johnny’s other side. He takes your hand, looking at you, and he says, “Sweetheart, are you alright?”
You nod. Slowly.
Damn, your throat hurts a bit. Your lips feel raw. Your pussy is still tingling and throbbing with the intense after-effects of the rough fucking from Johnny.
You’re just overall feeling very sensitive right now, you realize as you take stock of everything. But you’re okay. No harm done, just a little more than your body is quite used to, but a warm bath, some devoted attention and rest. You’ll be good.
Doyoung nods, mirroring you, and then he lifts his hand to your lips, tracing his thumb around them. They certainly feel puffy, sore like they could be slightly bruised. But you don’t protest when Doyoung leans in and leaves a light kiss.
There seems to be something he wants to say, it dances there on the tip of his tongue and burns in his dark eyes as he pulls away. But instead of saying it, Doyoung kisses Johnny, whispers an incredibly soft “I love you,” and then he slides away. “I’m showering. Either of you want to join?”
You’re not entirely sure you feel like budging from your comfortable spot on Johnny’s chest. You watch Doyoung walk away, disappearing into their large bathroom. You hear the sound of the shower turning on, water hitting tiles and glass.
“He’s just a little bit of a clean freak,” Johnny explains, curling his arm around your shoulders. “Always showers after sex. Brushes his teeth before and after, if given the chance.” Johnny laughs a little. “I can always tell when he’s in the mood, like he’ll think he’s going to surprise me and seduce me, but if he’s been in there showering and brushing his teeth for a while longer than usual, that’s a dead giveaway.”
The sound of Doyoung humming echoes from the bathroom. You smile, feeling yourself relax a little more at the sweet melody. For a few moments, you and Johnny lie there quietly like that, just listening, tucked together.
“Do you like us?” Johnny asks as Doyoung’s humming tapers off, and for the first time you hear a tone of uncertainty, a layer of wary self-consciousness in Johnny’s voice.
“More than I should,” you admit. “I barely know either of you. Also, you’re happily in a relationship together, and I’m just an interloper.”
Johnny sits up straight suddenly, inadvertently knocking you aside. You’re on your back, looking up at him as he leans over you to very seriously say, “You’re not an interloper, and I hope you’re not actually, seriously thinking of yourself like that. We like you, we want you here. Both of us want you, that’s how we’ve ended up in this happy situation.”
Doyoung walks back into the room then, running a towel over his wet hair. He’s pulled on a pair of baggy gray sweatpants, but he doesn’t bother with a shirt. He tosses the towel towards a clothes hamper, flicks off the light switch as he passes it by. He doesn’t hesitate to climb into bed, sliding up right behind you. Doyoung’s arm curls over your waist, his nose against the back of your neck. He sighs contentedly.
“Johnny, lay down.”
“We’re having a conversation,” Johnny protests. “Go on, Doyoung, tell her how much we like her. She thinks she’s interfering in our relationship.”
Doyoung sighs again, his breath soft against your skin. “Do we need to explain this relationship dynamic to you again? We’ve been looking all this time for the perfect person to interfere – if that’s what you want to call it – in our relationship. That’s you, my darling.” Doyoung brushes his lips over the curve of your shoulder.
You look up at Johnny. He’s nodding, his eyes fixed on the places where Doyoung is touching you. He spots you watching him, and he smiles again. Soft, warm, and satisfied is that look from him. “Baby, how many times do we need to tell you tonight that we both want you, we both like you, that you’re who we’ve been searching for. I think we both said it earlier, that we want you whether it’s just like a purely physical relationship or if you’ll engage in a romantic relationship with us.”
“A thrupple.” Doyoung snorts, amused. “It’s a goofy ass word, but it’s the one that best describes what we want. I want more than just sex. I want to take you out on more dates. I want Johnny to take you out. I want to share him with you, and him share you with me.” His arms tighten around you, snuggling close to you. “And despite the openness of our relationship, Johnny’s actually a pretty jealous guy, so, like, once he’s committed to it being the three of us, that’s it.”
“What?” You haven’t looked away from Johnny yet, from his dark eyes as he again looks over you and Doyoung twisted together.
Johnny shrugs. “He’s right. It might not entirely make sense, the way that I’m so possessive over my boyfriend, but still agreed to both of us fucking around on the side. That’s why we had rules, though.”
“But what did he mean about you being committed to us? That being it?” You stretch your hand out, place it on his bare thigh where the bed sheets have fallen away. “What does that mean?”
“It means I want you to be mine, too. I want to be possessive over you, too.” Johnny covers your hand on his thigh. “Baby, I think we’re both saying that we’ve found what was missing when we met you. That’s it. I’m done. If I’ve got you and I’ve got Doyoung, I don’t need or want anyone else anymore.”
Doyoung hums sleepily in agreement. “Same. Now, please. Lay down and sleep.”
Johnny sighs at his boyfriend, but he obeys. He leans over you to kiss Doyoung goodnight, and then he kisses you too before lying down in front of you.
You have a feeling they both fall asleep long before you do, surrounded by their deep, even breaths while your mind attempts to catch up and process all that’s happened today. But eventually, at some point between replaying the moment you’d spotted Johnny staring at you from across the bar and replaying his bold final statement, you finally drift off to sleep as well.
<- previous || next ->
a/n: mystery solved! explanations have been made, and although it's kinda shitty that they both mislead her in the beginning, it's all working out now! now they can be a happy thrupple, if that's what she wants, though it definitely seems that's what both Johnny and Doyoung want.
as per usual, if you leave any likes, reblogs, comments, or whatever I will greatly appreciate it! Let me know what you thought, please!
Chapter 4 will be posted on September 7!
