minho is a well known supporter of pretty things. he loves all of it: makeup, dresses, art, on special days he even finds beauty in the way the rain falls so surely, pouring over the roof of changbin’s balcony when they’re tangled in each other, the scent dawning at him in such a lovely way he finds it hard to not kiss the younger silly. he’s always up to new tendencies and keeps an infinite amount of jewelry to use and to give to people, because more than dressing himself up, he also hangs on the joy of making changbin wear red smokings and diamond cross earrings, which makes his heart burst in both love and lust the tiniest bit more. overall, minho is undeniably fond of everything nice and beautiful, even more so if it’s soft and moldable to his hands.
so that’s why it is absolutely no surprise when he finds himself drawn to bang chan, a golden star student who manages to keep up both a job at the student council as the president and a active social life, what explains why he’s in detention with minho, the last person on earth he’d be seen hanging out with due to their contrary personalities and even more contrasting backgrounds.
it’s not that minho is a bad kid - he considers himself far from it, even though others may disagree. sure, he’s also far from being a good kid, but he has tried to be one in the first place and it didn’t work as well as just being himself did. he’s a tiny bit chaotic, and that he knows, given to the fact that he builds plans of stealing jewelry from his own father even if he has the permission to get it and the money to buy it if he wants to. at school, he mostly always gets detention for being too loud in class or kissing changbin in inappropriate times, but he barely regrets those. he’s not necessarily smart, an average student at best, but other than his provoking behavior there’s no reason to complain about him, so his school doesn’t even try. other than that, it focus more on more problematic students. changbin is one of them.
minho finds it hot, even if he doesn’t admit it to changbin. he’s known around school for being short tempered, and his parent’s reputation is just the same; most of the time, people think changbin is the asshole of their relationship because of his never changing scowl and constant disdain for students above him. their school is fairly more privileged than the others in seoul, considering it’s for the higher class only - more often than not, minho finds people with expensive clothing walking around to get students to their houses, and it’s not like he and changbin are different. even then, minho finds it funny how such well priced kids spend their times gossiping around changbin, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s in no way worse than minho. if he were to say, changbin is just a very nice boy with dubious methods of sorting things out, while minho is extremely aware of his tendency to chose the worst of the situation simply for the fun of it. he’s flirtatious, likes to destabilize other people in their ground, and is never truly loyal to anything but his own word and changbin. minho loves very little, and wishes well even less.
so that’s why it’s a surprise he’s drawn to bang chan. it’s hard to find a face that makes minho, indifferent as he is, want to press them against a wall and sip the whimpers out of their tongues like a cup of lemonade on a particularly hot summer day. he’s struck by lighting when chan walks into the detention room, dress shirt wrinkled and open by a few buttons with messy hair and his uniform’s jacket on his back, sleeves tied up in his neck so prettily it was hard for minho to not stare at his adam’s apple. the teacher smiled when he saw him, a sign of chan’s good reputation, and minho felt a flame lick under his skin, the vision a symphony to his eyes. chan is as kind to the eye as changbin’s gorgeous lips. that, alone, says a lot.
they’ve talked about polygamy before. minho had brought it up when they were too tired to study and took a break for a makeout session on the floor. he hummed into changbin’s lips about it, an idea to think about, and was pleasantly surprised when the younger seemed to agree with it as much as minho did. that day, they decided to let things come naturally, until someone catches their eyes enough for them to maybe consider letting them in their relationship. and, well - minho is too far up his and changbin’s asses to notice anyone but them, and yet, there he was, ogling at chan’s soft lips and broad shoulders as if he were a stray dog looking at food. there was just something about his looks, about the slightly curly end of his hair, that makes minho starve for more, makes minho want to scratch all over his thick neck and to kiss on the bruised skin.
minho watches with a intense glare how his hips sway softly when he walks, not bothering to make himself less obvious. his legs are so thin, it makes him almost giggle, endeared. if there is a god, minho decides he was playing for his team, what explained why he was going to spend two hours locked in a room with the prettiest boy he’s seen in a while. the teacher looks at them, unimpressed, and leaves the completely sealed room, no windows or exits other than the locked door. detention is not bad, most of the time - they’re supposed to sit and wait until they’re able to leave, and every now and then a teacher gives them homework to do, but the one who takes care of keeping them in place is far too tired to even care about what they do between the four ugly painted walls, so he just locks them and goes to the cafeteria, checking on their behavior about two or three times before it’s due for them to leave.
normally, minho would pull out his phone and text changbin to say how bored he is, but when he looks at the way chan’s leg sways gently from where he’s sat, he can’t even bring himself to feel bored. instead, he pulls out his phone and takes a secret picture of him, sending it to changbin and asking for permission - despite what it seems, minho is not a cheater. he’d never hook up with a third person without changbin’s approval, no matter how attractive they are. the answer comes within five minutes later, a gleeful yes that reminds minho of all the reasons he fell in love with changbin in the first place. he sends him lots of heart emojis before turning his phone off and looking at chan with a grin, softly poking his shoulder as he seems to be lost in his head.
“bang chan, right? i’m lee minho.” he introduces himself, grin easily falling into the smirk he’s been holding back for a while now. chan looks at him with wide eyes, nowhere as big as minho’s but still puppy-like with how the brown irises seem to get rounder and rounder at each look.
he smiles, dimples poking up his cheeks making minho almost close his eyes in delight. “nice to meet you, minho. i’m chan.”
even his voice is gentle too. it’s breathy, nasal, it reminds minho of a peachy color with yellow undertones, something very close to a sunset - it’s soft, and kind, matching his rosy cheeks and pink lips. his heart does a funny leap, concentrated in chan’s deep brown irises, the shape of his eyes similar to changbin’s. it makes him smile more than he intended to.
“what’s a nice boy like you doing here, huh?” minho intends it to sound teasing, but with how desperately thirsty he is, it’s hard to keep the malicious undertone of his voice at bay.
chan smiles again, this time even brighter than before, and minho grabs his chair so hard his knuckles get white. he’s indulging - pliant, even - talking softly and grinning so big it feels like his face is going to rip apart if he doesn’t stop; on top of that, chan smells nice too, as minho makes himself closer by sitting behind him. it’s a light scent, something close to softener and very sweet perfume, making minho take big lungfuls of it so he can taste chan’s smile all over his taste buds, the smell clinging almost too nicely on his tongue.
“i got very late to class,” he says, a bashful smile on his lips. minho gets closer, makes his eyes wider to see every bit of him. “professor wasn’t in a good mood. he just gave me detention and told me to sit down.”
“oh, no.” minho makes a face, burrowing his brows. he jokes again: “poor baby.”
“what about you?” chan rests his chin on his closed fist, eyes almost black because of the artificial lighting.
“ah, the usual. forgot to do homework.” he says, not really caring as he scans what he could see of chan’s collarbones.
minho decides they’re very, very pretty.
“don’t do that,” chan frowns, looking every bit the class president he is. “homework can be useful sometimes.”
the younger student giggles, astonished at chan’s slight scold. “don’t worry, president bang. i’ll try to do it more often.”
chan looks down, a bit embarrassed, and minho resists the urge to coo at his reddening ears, looking so hot and cozy it was hard to not reach out and squeeze his cheek gently, like he would do to one of the fluffy sweets he used to eat in japan.
“president bang?” the class president laughs, softly at that, so small it could barely be heard. it’s a tiny sound, not much than a few small vibrations in the air, but minho’s ears tingle with the urge to hear it again. “no need for that. i barely do anything.”
minho raises an eyebrow, but lets himself melt into a smile when he notices the little hoop earrings in chan’s ears. up close, he’s almost even prettier - minho can’t help but think how he would look with the diamond ones he and changbin had, the three of them matching at that.
“right,” he says, looking directly at chan’s lips. minho sees him gulping. “i don’t always get detention with the president of the student council, you know? it’s an one in a lifetime kind of deal. might as well make the most of it, right?”
chan brings a hand to his nape, scratching it. “i guess. i’m around most of the time, though.”
he demeanors himself under minho’s piercing gaze, eyes dark and certain where they scan the mole in his jaw and the way his adam’s apple bobbles up when he swallows. minho can tell he’s shying away by the way chan’s chest gets up and down a bit quicker than it should, and his heart swells in pride.
“so, chan... what do you want to do? we have two hours.”
the older looks down at the watch around his wrist for a mere second. “one hour and a half, actually.”
“you understood.” minho glares at him half jokingly, eyes purposefully directed to his as he watches chan’s composure break down fast enough, pretty orbs staring back at him like a prey looking at its hunter. it eases down quickly, though, and not much longer his lips stretch into a smile.
still, the younger forces himself to make his face softer, more open, so he won’t scare the older boy away.
“i don’t know, minho-ssi. what do you usually do?”
i don’t usually thirst over other students. yet, here we are. minho thinks, staring so blatantly at chan he’s worried about the older combusting in shame, ears a deep scarlet color, almost as pink as the shade of his lips. heart-shaped lips, his mind reminds him.
“nothing. but i want to do something with you.” his tone is gentle, or at least he means it to be. chan looks like he wants to take a step back.
“oh…” and his voice is so small, minho can’t help but finding it adorable. he seems overwhelmed with the undivided attention, but still pleased if the soft keen of his voice means anything. “minho-ssi…”
minho knows he’s a smart boy. he saw chan pick up on people’s intentions before, predicting a few cases of harassment in their school, and he’s convinced that, by now, the older is completely aware of his attraction. how could he not? minho never minded to make it discret.
he seems content by the way minho talks gently to him. the younger smiles. “no need for honorifics with me, dear. call me as you please.”
chan blinks like the waves of the sea, lingering on his long lashes and vanishing when he opens his eyes again, golden shade adorning his eyelids the prettiest minho has ever seen. his breaths are soft, and when he exhales, minho feels himself getting more and more drawn, the whole world clinging to chan’s lovely shoulders when he opens his mouth. minho has always been fond of pretty things, but chan is almost ambrosial to his tongue, as blinding as the sun he so rarely sees.
and, yeah, maybe he’s a bit dramatic. but chan is too beautiful and minho is too concentrated on it to notice anything else.
“but i’m older than you…” he trails off, unsurely. minho particularly loves the way he pouts while speaking.
“you want me to call you hyung? or sunbaenim?” minho humours him slightly, adjusting himself so he can stare even closer.
he takes a few strands of dyed blonde hair and places it behind his ear, chan’s eyes scanning the action as he unconsciously fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. it’s a lot bigger than him, the fabric covering almost all of his hands, and minho wordlessly reaches out, folding it so he doesn’t bother with how long it is. the act earns him a smile, a soft one at that, and minho desperately swallows it down, a grin of his own making its way to his face. he holds chan’s wrist for a minute, thumb gently caressing it.
“no, it’s fine. call me as you please, too.” it’s a whisper, gently sliding off his lips like honey dripping from a cup of tea, nicely spreaded over the endless nuances of a deep pink, his gloss coated mouth as appealing as the cuban jewelry minho has in his house. “your hair is so pretty…”
the blonde almost purrs. “thank you, baby. your hair is also pretty.”
“you think?” chan plays with the curly end of one black strand, his hair overdue to a haircut. he likes it, though, so he never really bothers.
“yes, i do. you’re so pretty.” minho corrects himself, almost taking chan’s hand off his hair and placing his on it instead. “do you like blonde hair, angel?”
the older’s lips open slightly, a tiny sound of content getting out of his mouth at the pet name. his face is covered in red and pink tones, pleased, and minho has half the heart to tease him about it - if anything, it’s the exact combination of all the colors and sounds he likes, an impressionist painting all over his face, shades mixing up and contrasting on a pale canvas with grace. his fingertips almost burn with the urge to touch.
“yeah, i really wanted to dye my hair blonde, but i wasn’t brave enough to actually do it. was scared that it would look ugly.” he explains, gesticulating every now and then. it’s cute.
minho imagines him blonde, and while he can’t see it clear, he deems it one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever imaginated. “you’d look so good, baby. even prettier. you really should try it.”
“you really think i should do it?” chan’s voice is hopeful, eager to please. minho loves it so bad.
“i really do. i’d even be glad to help.” something in his mind tailors the image clearer, both him, chan and changbin in a tiny bathroom with hair dye and a plan. his chest speeds up in excitement.
chan sighs, dreamy. “it’d be great to have blonde hair… i never dyed my hair before. is it hard?”
minho laughs a bit. “not at all, angel. but i won’t explain it to you right now. give me your number and i’ll see what i can do. i want to ask you something.”
“what is it?” he gets closer to listen, turning fully in his chair and spreading his legs to accommodate it better.
while minho stops to think his next words, chan wraps his jacket around him securely, the dark blue fabric making him look incredibly older. he looks absurdly pretty, as expected. minho makes a mental note to compliment him on it later.
“you’re so pretty, so i was thinking...” the validation flies easily off his lips, chan’s pleased sound filling his heart with a red substance, a stain of love gathering in his chest. “there’s this idea of mine, that if you kiss pretty boys time flies fast. wanna try?”
chan laughs, really laughs, with eyes crinkling and loud clapping. minho intended it to be cheesy, yet he can’t help but feel out of breath with the way chan freely giggles, his loud voice filling up every dark corner of the building, light quietly seeping in between the shadows. it’s almost as a fairytale princess transformation, an end to a long, long winter. in minho’s heart, something gets undoubtedly warm.
“couldn’t you just ask me to hook up, instead?” he asks, humorous.
“yeah, but i’m a gentleman.” minho raises one eyebrow, teasing.
chan’s next words make him explode in happiness. “in that case… i guess we could try, yes.”
there’s only one thing that makes minho happier than seeing pretty things - and that is touching them.
he wastes no more time to take chan’s hand in his, getting out of his chair with a smile. gently, he tugs the older boy to the teacher’s table, not even having to boss him around as he easily sits over it and spreads his legs to accommodate minho, his hands flying to the boy’s thighs and squeezing very lightly, more a compliment than anything else. chan keens into the touch, happy, and it makes minho want to hold his hand longer than he just did. a part of him wants to be a painter, so he could use his two hands to lock the moment in his eyes; for a moment, a tiny second, his fingers twitch and fiddle with the urge to paint the pink in chan’s cheeks. it’s hard to contain, but minho manages. with chan so close, there are a few things he’d rather do than just painting him.
wordlessly, his hands find chan’s waist, and minho dives in like a starving man - at first, it felt like a slow motion dream, a mere shade of reality in between a sea of motionless wishes, and then it became harsher, closer, taking him to his breaking point. chan’s lips are soft and thick and an antidote to his hunger, undeniably sweet as minho presses even closer to make them sour, to taste the poison under his tongue that he craves, craves, craves. minho dreads on the end even before it starts, hands on his waist getting rougher and rougher, fingers imprints he wants to let on the paleness. it’s a strange passion, a synthpop song dancing at the back of his head warning him about how much he likes it and how bad it would be when it ends. he urges himself to get more, desperately stealing chan’s breath with bites and pinches, tongue surely searching for the limits chan himself doesn’t know. it’s unexplored, and it makes the boy on his arms overwhelmed too easily, tiny gasps making minho’s heart flutter in pride. he pants under minho, whining like it’s too much and not enough, letting himself go with the way the younger grabs at him, a hand coming to comb his hair softly before pulling at it, chan’s mouth opening more in instinct when he feels his neck getting more exposed.
minho gets lost in it, burrows deeper and stronger when chan mewls, his hands desperately chasing for the blonde’s. it’s so gentle that it makes him dumbfounded for a moment, chan’s hands looking for his for comfort between all the harshness in his lips. minho takes one like he’d take a diamond necklace from his father’s pocket, holding it with all the time and patience in the world, very much contrary to how he’s sipping chan’s gloss coated lips in a haze. he feels chan’s hand squeezing his at every whine and every gasp, little sounds spreading wildfire on minho’s chest. when it ends, the younger would’ve kept going forever if the class president didn’t squirm in his arms, out of breath and teary-eyed. his lips are red, the makeup over it smudged, and minho licks his own lips to see what it tastes like; sadly, it is nowhere as tasty as chan.
the older pants and presses his head on minho’s shoulder, a whine stuck in his throat. he takes the younger’s other hand and makes it softer where it wraps around his waist, the one in his own hand still very much needed as minho feels chan squeezing it tightly, searching for attention. minho holds him closer, lets him wrap his legs around his waist while soft breathing in his neck, and it’s perfect - he loves being in charge, chan’s little whimpers of approval when minho combs a hand through his hair making him extremely pleased with himself.
“you’re so cute.” he compliments, chan nuzzling his neck like a kitten in approval. “breathe, angel. i want to kiss you again. are you overwhelmed?”
the older boy nods softly, minho cupping his face right after and bringing it closer to him. “there it is, much better. beautiful.”
chan smiles, lips stretching like the sun, and minho dives in again. this time, he’s more patient, letting chan explore him even if his hunger urges him to let himself go deeper, harder. minho softly bites the older’s lip when he lets go of his hair, instead opting for caressing his back. when he makes to let go of chan’s hand, the boy makes his disapproval seem with whining and searching for minho’s hand again. it’s undeniably cute, and minho’s heart clenches.
between kisses, he calls: “baby, baby, hey.”
chan stops kissing him for a minute, pressing their foreheads together as he pants. still, his lips meet minho’s nose not much longer after, a small gest of adoration. “what?” he whispers.
“what’s with the hand holding, sweetheart?”
the brunette blinks. “does it bother you?”
“no, no! i just want to know, that’s all.” minho promptly explains, his thumb caressing the back of chan’s hand when he does so.
“i feel... better doing it. i’m sorry if it’s too needy.” chan seems like he’s tasting the words hesitantly, as if the reason isn’t clear enough for him to tell.
“no, i like it.” he whispers, kissing chan quickly again. “besides, i don’t plan on stopping kissing you like that.”
he sees chan swallowing, and smiles. a tiny sound escapes the older’s mouth, one that identifies with the sweet cries he just made a few minutes ago, and it’s enough for minho to lay him in the table with a huff, pressing impossibly closer. he kisses harder, pins his both hands to the top of his head, and when chan makes to grind his hips against minho’s, the younger uses one hand to glue them back to the table. “don’t be bad, dear. you don’t want to be like that with me, do you?”
chan exhales harshly. “no.”
minho gives him a pleasing smile, and nudges his nose with his own, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek. it’s pliant under his lips, so soft he resists the urge to bite it, and chan whines with the loss of attention to his mouth. “you’re so cute.”
“‘am not.” the president disagrees, but complies nonetheless when minho kisses all around his face, utterly whipped by the prettiness of it.
“yes, you are.” minho giggles, palms on both the sides of his face. chan’s cheeks are warm under his hands, easily moldable, and it makes the younger want to squish them for a minute, just so he could se chan’s reaction.
he’d probably giggle, then, in that cheerful way of his. it would be so cute, minho almost doesn’t control his hands.
“i’m not. i didn’t do anything.” there’s a slight sulk in his voice, very similar to changbin’s habit of pouting when he talks, and the small similarity fills minho up with endearment.
“exactly. and you’re still cute.” he fights with a smile, chest opening and closing like clouds in front of the sun, the sound of chan’s laughter just the same as catnip to light. “you’re so cute. let me take you on a date.”
he punctuates every sentence with a press of his lips in chan’s, holding the boy under him like he’d hold a flower; he’s soft edges and smooth angles, but everything in nature is after a bit of love. the older’s hands on his pulsates like the veins in his heart, a soft stuttering between his bones, and it’s different from changbin’s thunder heartbeat, both extremely divergent but equally pleasing to minho’s hollow chest, the hum above their ribs viciously glueing to the boy’s ears. he breathes into chan’s skin, eyes closed.
“don’t you- ah, don’t you have a boyfriend?” chan gasps when minho nuzzles his neck, nose buried in his jaw. there’s that again, that urge to mark and to dive further, but it’s softly laced with something sweeter now, a warm ghost of adoration.
minho giggles at his words, unable to stop himself from humouring him just a little bit. “why, darling, i do have one. and you still kissed me knowing i do. weren’t you supposed to be the good one, sweetheart?”
the older blushes deeply, a small whimper of shame dropping out of his lips and into minho’s ears like a symphony of the younger’s fingertips, blonde hair grazing chan’s cheeks when he starts kissing under his jaw, lips firm and steady as they go. it’s a whole undiscovered path, and there are a few marks on his neck that make minho almost forget about that primal hunger of his - they weren’t many, probably caused by popping pimples or scratching his neck when nervous, but they still made him want to gather chan in his arms with a soft hum, lips tickling to touch his temples.
“i’m- i’ve had- i’ve had a crush on you for so long,” the brunette confesses, tiny cries leaving his lips as minho continues to kiss his neck. “i just thought… maybe this would be my only opportunity…”
the younger hums, acknowledging the embarrassment in chan’s voice and squeezing his hands, affectionate. minho barely contains the purr in his voice when he speaks up again: “thank you for being honest, baby.”
it earns chan another kiss on the lips, minho’s free hand flying to caress his cheek. “my boyfriend’s name is changbin. we have been talking about you for a while now, you know? i thought you’d never make a move. turns out i was right.”
“i- excuse me?” the boy under him squirms in his arms, almost hitting minho’s face with his forehead. he exhales a quick apology and kisses the younger’s temples after it.
“we wanted to know you more.” minho laughs quietly, accepting chan’s kisses with a soft stutter, barely there if anything. he breathes in the air between them again, body narrowing to chan’s lips gently this time. “would you be okay with it, baby? would you like being shared?”
chan whimpers in minho’s shoulders, the boy’s thigh slowly being dragged to minho’s waist. he brushes a hand under chan’s shirt, just enough to graze his fingers over his warm skin, and the older shivers. minho can see him melting under his fingertips as clearly as intense summer rain, chan’s eyes looking up at him like he’s a prayer, mouth closing around the depth of minho’s stare. he knows the answer even before it comes.
“i’d try it.” his voice flows gently like a river, the tone resting over minho’s brain folds with devastating trust. chan seems like the type of person minho has dreamt about - he’s pliant, accustomed to being twisted and bent to the edge and never reaching a breaking point, filling minho’s hands with a softness he’s never had before.
it’s similar to holding a baby’s hand, or to the feeling of running your fingers through somebody’s hair. when minho cradles chan in his arms again, his lips are urging and his elbows are full of roses, petals falling over him where chan’s skin meets his.
he’s smitten. there’s no need to hide it.
later that night, minho finds himself laying in changbin’s chest with a smile as big as the one he worn that morning, the memory of chan lingering and mixing with his boyfriend’s cologne, creating a mist of adoration in minho’s tongue. he nuzzles against changbin’s shirt, incapable of keeping the softness to himself, and hugs him tighter, desperately searching for an end to the calming waves in his heart, barely breathing by the way he feels so full, in ways he’s never experienced before.
changbin was listening to him quietly, humming every now and then, as minho told him about his day. the older’s heart dances in glee, changbin’s soft exhales a beat to keep swaying to forever.
minho doesn’t know how he got so lucky.
“he was so cute, darling, you’ll be so charmed! i can’t wait for you two to meet.” he whispers to changbin’s chest, blonde hair messy from where it sticked up from his daily nap. minho’s eyes are almost closing with how comfortable he is, his boyfriend’s scent clinging to him like a blanket, the longing of the day vanishing under changbin’s light caresses on his back.
“is it so, dear?” the younger’s hands come to comb through minho’s messy hair, freeing knots as minho gets impossibly closer. “i’ve seen him a few times before. he’s so pretty.”
“as pretty as us?” minho asks, putting his chin over his hands expectantly.
“yeah. he manages to do that.” the younger laughs, flicking minho’s nose. the gold in his ear twinkles from where the light meets it, its color a shade or so lighter than minho’s brown eyes when the sun hits. mindlessly, changbin presses his thumb to his lips, minho’s eyebrow shooting up immediately.
“you seem a bit distracted, changbin. is there something on my face?” the older teasers, kissing changbin’s thumb with an unnecessary loud sound.
he knows he’s hard not to look at, even if minho isn’t always aware of the appealing shape of his lips or the way his eyes seem to inhale the air out of people’s lungs with every blink. minho is confident in his own appearance, but changbin is certain that the way they see his beauty is different. the younger thinks he’s more than just a piercing visual - other than that, he believes he’s one of the few people who sees the other side of the moon that minho is, when he’s more solitude than light. changbin has it to himself that minho is equal parts rough and delicate, if the gentle curl of his lashes and his small hands meant anything at all, and as much as other people couldn’t see it, changbin thinks is for the best. minho has lost a lot of parts of himself from what others saw of him, so the delicacy he held was supposed to changbin’s eyes only.
and maybe bang chan, if he keeps clinging to their sleeves like a sunflower aiming to the sun.
“just the usual prettiness, sweetheart.” he means it to be overly sweet, his words laced with a venomous hint, hands wrapped around minho’s uncovered waist. who even sleeps in crop tops, anyway?
“cheesy son of a-”
“fuck off. you don’t go all dominating at me now.” minho pokes the side of his head with furrowed brows, his earrings dangling from where changbin could see them. they distract him for a minute, the cross shaped gold sliding from minho’s cheek like a death sentence, as attractive as light to an insect. changbin sighs, war already lost.
“don’t be an asshole just because you made the council’s president your little bi-”
“language!” the older mimics him, voice unnecessarily high.
“you’re so annoying. i can’t believe i’m dating you.” he huffs, pinching minho’s waist.
“you’re dating me because, besides being rich, i’m the only one who makes your edgelord, emo ass get submissive.”
“yeah, which clearly shows submissive me has the total of three brain cells by letting a mid sized twink dom over him.”
“take that back!” minho whines, slapping his shoulder. “i’m not a twink!”
“i guess not. you’re too rich to be one.” changbin rolls his eyes.
he rolls minho over in the couch and makes himself comfortable in the older’s shoulder, now resting his body on top of minho’s like the dancer was a minute earlier. he feels minho’s hands in his hair, humming in satisfaction, and wraps his arms around the boy’s middle.
“whatever. you like it. you think i’m hot.” the older slaps his ass with a teasing edge to his voice. changbin shows no reaction other than a yelp of pain.
“don’t do that. i have no ass, if you keep slapping it i’ll get even flatter.” he bites minho’s neck playfully, suppressing a chuckle of his own when the older laughs out loud. minho’s giggle is even funnier than his jokes, so every time he laughs, it’s hard to not mirror it.
“but you like it!”
“maybe in the moment. after that i look in the mirror and i feel like a stick.” he cries, pinching minho’s arm. the older grabs his wrist to make him stop.
“it’s okay, dear. i think you’re hot even if you don’t have it.” minho smirks, kissing changbin’s earlobe.
“you better. it’s not like you have an ass either.” the younger bites back.
“it’s true that i don’t. but do you know who has?”
changbin rolls his eyes.
the older laughs as changbin rolls his eyes again, already expecting that answer.
“he’s perfect.” the younger jokes, kissing minho’s neck. “he’ll make up for everything we lack.”
“yeah!” minho excitedly agrees. “we’ll make a hot ass couple.”
changbin gets silent for a minute.
the younger adjusts himself to bury his head in minho’s collarbones, gently kissing the spot where his shirt falls off his shoulder. “are you sure he’s… into the polygamy idea?”
minho hums. “he said he’s willing to try. are you worried he’s not trustable?”
“it’s not about him, because he’s an angel.” changbin shrugs, playing with a strand of minho’s hair. the blonde is still freshly dyed, vibrating where it contrasts with his fingers, and changbin resists the urge to kiss him again. “it’s just… you seem to like him a lot. i don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“you like him a lot too, though.” the older frowns.
“yes, i do. but i’m already prepared if he rejects me. you don’t seem to be, baby.”
minho blinks. “i don’t think he’ll do that. i trust him, binnie. i really do.”
“i trust you.” changbin sighs. “hopefully, everything will end well, right?”
“of course, babe.” the older smiles, grabbing changbin’s chin and kissing him gently.
he has a hard time controlling himself, though. when he realizes, his shirt is already halfway off and changbin’s short nails are scratching his back, lips melting and molding into each other. it’s different from chan, of course - changbin never truly indulges to minho’s dominant side, always brattier than he needs to be, and it’s equally as good as chan’s behavior. he grips changbin’s waist tight, doesn’t let him go, and massages the small of his back with dangerous intentions, tongue focused in changbin’s. minho sucks on his bottom lip and slaps the younger’s thigh playfully, making changbin laugh and place his hand on minho’s neck, caressing his jawline with his thumb. the dancer gulps around the long fingers in his throat, but lets changbin do what he wants for the time being; he knows controlling him would just make things worse. the diamond bracelet in his wrist is cold against minho’s warm neck, and it shouldn’t be such a turn on, but it is. he’s touched by electricity whenever changbin’s legs brush his thigh a bit too hard, and being under him gives him no control at all, which is new, but not necessarily bad. it’s suddenly too hot, even if minho is just in sweatpants, being pressed down into the sofa’s cushion.
“inspired today, huh?” he whispers to the younger’s ears, squeezing his thigh with little strength. minho is still gentle from his nap, voice still small from where it disentangles from his throat, and the vibrations under changbin’s palm are just too good to be true.
changbin smiles. “perhaps.”
he keeps going, hands getting more kind as minho feels himself growing harsher, instantly pulling the younger under him and kissing him slowly. minho knows what makes changbin weak in his knees, knows how to leave him panting, but lets it rest between their chests, lingering and denying more than he should.
some r&b song changbin liked was playing in the background softly, beats matching wet sounds from his lips, and it all made sense even if things only got louder from there.
changbin meets chan for the first time not longer after, and it goes on until their fourth meeting. he’s running away from class when he sees him in physical education uniform, commanding other boys from his class into different actions. changbin wasn’t sure of what they were playing, and frankly, he was nowhere as interested in sports as minho was, but the way the older boy looked with the sleeveless shirt and basketball shorts made him want to stay in school a bit more. he’s not necessarily interested in what chan is desperately shouting to his teammates, and yet he’s fixated in the scene, glued in his spot, eyes analyzing every flex of muscle in chan’s arms. they’re pale, and very strong, contrasting to the thinness of his legs and his soft features. he looks concentrated, a pro athlete in how he scans adversaries with a knowing glint, making something in changbin’s stomach catch on fire.
he looks intimidating like this. nothing close to the way minho had described him, even further from the behavior he has during class. this chan is… something else. changbin can tell he’s having fun, yes, but there’s a competitive edge in the way he takes the ball away from others easily even if the people around him seem to keep an eye in everything he does, and even more so in how his normally gentle eyes get a dark layer over them, round shape transforming into something sharper changbin can’t really put his finger on. it’s similar to minho’s expression when he’s dancing, and it makes him gulp. he decides against his senses, walking straight into court and sitting on the bleachers with a lazy smirk. changbin sits and watches, eyes trained on chan only. he’s not sure if the older notices it or not.
except he does, and after the match, chan gives him a look while drinking water. it lasts a minute or so, but changbin knows he’s recognized him by the way his ears flamed in a pretty dark pink, slicked back hair revealing furrowed eyebrows. like that, changbin can recognize the boy minho talked about before, specially by the way his hands fiddle and his throat gulps when he side eyes the bleachers. it’s cute, and changbin waves for the sake of fun, delighted as chan stutters to the trainer and waves back shily. another boy from his team back hugs him slightly, covering changbin’s vision, and like that he’s gone from sight. it sours his mood a bit, so the younger decides to wait, a chance of talking to chan swaying in his mind tentatively.
changbin knows who the boy who back hugged him is, and as much as he likes the kid, a spike of jealousy runs through his blood. he has no reason to it, really—he’s exchanged an enormous amount of messages with chan, but they’re not dating (yet). he never even kissed him, for fuck’s sake. ever since minho got chan to step into their lives, they’ve been dancing around each other in a weird mating ritual, changbin courting him like a gentleman even if he’s never done anything like that in his life. it’s just the effect chan has in people, and he feels whipped even before kissing him. changbin has spent a few hours thinking about the way chan’s cupid bow curls ever so slightly when he’s upset; he has thick lips, heart shaped ones at that, and it always messes with changbin’s nerves how they seem to be gloss coated, the pink turning into a more reddish color when the older boy gets to school. the lipstick fades very quickly after that, but changbin always notices. more often than not, he wonders how good it must have felt for minho to kiss them. the image, at the back of his mind, is almost too much to bear.
chan approaches him after a few minutes, the match’s heat coming to a halt as he notices the small shivers in the boy’s arms. the air is cold, signaling that it’s already past the mid-day sun, and everyone in the bleachers has a coat wrapped tightly around them minus the athletes. changbin frowns at chan hugging himself, his sleeveless shirt barely covering any skin. despite that, the older boy seems happy to see him, as his smile is enough to bring back the undying heat from seoul’s summer, dimples and all. his eyes turn into two arches, gothic architecture at its finest in the way they curl when he smiles, and changbin doesn’t has it in himself to think it is anything but beautiful.
“shouldn’t you be changing clothes?” the younger asks, leaving his bag next to chan’s and getting up to meet him halfway through the court.
“yeah! just wanted to say hi.” chan says between breaths, smile wide as he gently holds changbin’s wrist. “hi.”
changbin laughs. “hi, darling.”
calling someone other than minho ‘darling’ is foreign to his tongue, words rolling off rather carefully, trying to decipher which taste they bring to his mouth. it isn’t bad—chan’s reaction is a happy squeal, cheeks a faint pink tone as the cold air hits his soft features, and changbin lets the pet name slide much easier after that.
“have you watched the match?” he links his arm with changbin’s and guides him back to the bleachers, face open and bright as it normally is.
changbin almost steps back at the cheerfulness. “just the end. you look scary.”
“what? why?” the older gasps slightly.
“i don’t know, really. it’s different from the usual you.” he doesn’t adds to the sentence, but chan knows what he means even before it ends. the boy smiles, understanding.
“ah, i guess…” chan trails off, shivering even more.
“do you have a warm change in your locker? a jacket?” changbin asks, frowning. the cold air is piercing, puffs of ice like blazes sliding through his skin even if he’s wearing a coat. the material is rather thin, and barely protects him from anything. still, he’s better than chan, who’s exposed completely to the cold.
“i don’t, really… i didn’t bring a coat this morning because it was hot, and, well, i kind of regret it.” he sighs. “the things my dumb ass does… unbelievable, right?”
changbin laughs. “yeah, unbelievable.” he caresses the boy’s arm. “sometimes stupid and cute are enough, though, so i’ll see if minho has a jacket in his locker. you’re lucky you’re cute.”
the older boy quickly pecks his cheek in an act of gratefulness, eyes disappearing under the force of his smile. he’s too bright for the freezing air, and changbin worries he might get a headache from the exposition to the sun. “thank you, bin! you’re the best!”
he lets chan go grab his bag, and slides his phone off his pocket to make a quick call to minho. the older answers after two rings.
“hello, dearest. what is it that you have to call me while i’m trying to cheat on a fucking tes-”
“where are your backup clothes? in your locker, right? what’s the combination?” changbin ignores the older’s rant as chan comes back again with both of their bags in each shoulder. he mouths a quick ‘tell minho i said hi’.
“what? yes, they’re in my locker. why?” he hears minho complain a bit in the distance.
“chan told me to say hi.” the younger of the two starts, linking arms with chan again. “the clothes are for him, actually.”
“why? what happened to his clothes? is he in trouble?”
“no, baby’s done no wrong. he just forgot to bring warm clothes and it’s freezing right now. i’m with him at the basketball court. where the fuck are you, anyways?” he feels chan lay his head on his shoulder, head of black slightly curly hair tickling his cheek.
“well, my phone started ringing right when i was googling the answers, so they asked me to leave the class and i did. i’m in the hallway next to the science lab.” through the call, changbin hears minho stomping his feet in the ground. “come get me! there are thousands of little gremlins in uniforms looking at me. i didn’t know i had to be a good example to the fucking fourth grade.”
“they’re seventh graders, dear, and yes, we’ll come to get you. but before, what’s the combination?”
“it’s - what are you looking at, dumbass? - it’s beyoncé’s birthday date.”
“stop yelling at kids, asshole! and how the fuck am i supposed to know when beyoncé’s birthday is?” chan peeks up at that, eyes wide.
“it’s the 4th of september.” the older murmurs in changbin’s ear, chin resting on his shoulder with a tired exhale. his cheek is cold where it presses against changbin’s jaw, and the younger mindlessly wraps an arm around his waist.
“how do you not know that-”
“it’s fine, darling,” he bites out. “chan already told me. we’ll be there in ten.”
changbin hears minho sigh lovingly through the phone. “tell baby he’s great. and that i adore him. and that he’s the cutest.”
“he already knows that.” the younger huffs.
“tell him. now.”
he sighs. “baby, minho told me to tell you that you’re great, and that he adores you.”
chan giggles in his neck. “cute.”
he hangs out after that, guiding chan to the school’s vestiary with a hand on the small of his back. minho’s locker is filled with polaroids of himself and changbin, a glued picture of chan between them all with a heart sticker to keep it with the others. it would be endearing if minho’s password wasn’t really beyoncé’s birthday, so changbin ignores the chant of love in his heart as he carefully takes the folded clothes, giving them to chan.
“these are… minho’s clothes. it will fit, but be aware that i almost never see minho wearing a shirt that isn’t cut in half.” changbin explains, watching as chan’s eyebrows shoot up. the older laughs quietly and nods, moving to a stall and closing the door.
the vestiary is coloured in metallic shades of grey, a big mirror next to the sink and nothing particular about it. changbin sits in the marble, waiting for chan. he’s not sure about what to think—should he be this worried about someone’s well being? it’s hard to know, without minho to tell him what he feels. changbin is both weirded out and indifferent at the same, as chan is one of the few people who don’t have to try to be liked: day by day, they feel drawn by him for the way he whines and giggles into his hands, an excited ball of energy in all circumstances. changbin sees why minho was the one who liked him the most in the first place; after all, he’s always been the one who prefers the brighter and kinder. minho is interested in everything he can mold and bend, chan’s body a blank canvas for him to do as he pleases, whether it is based on love or lust. and changbin—well, he likes chan for the small things he does. and for their common interests, and for the way his button up shirts are all wrinkled, and for all the times he smiled like he just won the lottery at simple things. they’re both endeared in different forms, but it doesn’t feel wrong.
chan takes a while to come back, but when he does, changbin has to suppress the urge to both laugh and cry. because, indeed, these are minho clothes: the older boy was dressed in black jeans and a dress shirt changbin saw minho quoting with heart eyes emoji in twitter earlier that month, the fabric covered in flowery patterns; white petals contrasted with the red background and chan’s pale skin, silk material covering his arms delicately. he seemed to enjoy it, even if the shirt was thin enough for him to cling to changbin’s arm, the jean chain on his hips shaking while he moves. changbin’s mind came to a haze when noticing the shirt’s buttons open, the older boy’s collarbone standing out from the gentle silk as chan looked at him with a faint frown, wrists cold from where the sleeves riled up.
“does minho ever get cold?” his tone is exasperated, pushing down the shirt’s sleeve to protect his arms, shivering. changbin fights the urge to coo, simply because it’s endearing how his eyes get when annoyed, and his lips get even redder with the addition of color in his clothes.
“not really. would you prefer wearing your p.e uniform, darling?” he quickly adds the pet name at the end of the sentence, voice rough after years of biting back petulant answers to minho.
chan huffs. “no. i’m still thankful, but seriously - how can one wear those shirts without freezing to death?”
“it’s minho,” changbin chuckles. “are you even surprised?”
at his laugh, chan smiles, gently pushing changbin to the door as they speak. “nope, not really. i hope he doesn’t get mad because i’m wearing his clothes, though.”
the younger barely contains himself at that, a malicious smile spreading through his face. “oh, that won’t be a bother. minho is pretty possessive, he’ll be thrilled. even more so because you’re literally stinking of his cologne.”
“good for him, then. win-win situation.” chan rolls his eyes, but his expression is still fond.
“yeah, but next time, you’ll smell like mine cologne instead. just, you know, to assert dominance.” he says, the joking undertone of his voice nowhere as intense as his gaze in chan’s collarbones. the light sat at the top it, interlaced in the boy’s pores like stitches pointing out from a particularly bad cut.
the older raises one eyebrow, a smile pushing itself through his teeth as chan hums, agreeing. he gets closer than necessary, towering over changbin’s lean frame, and the younger barely has the time to wrap an arm around his waist as chan bites his lip, playful. the tip of his mouth brushes over changbin’s gently, until they meet, an asteroid rocking lunar land for the first time in what would turn into years. it tastes sugar coated, something close to a elton john song mingling in their breaths, ‘tiny dancer’ in ballerina steps on the space their lips meet. it’s quick, and chan pulls off before they reach the staircase to get minho, but his smile that close was something changbin would never forget. he felt clumsy, fingers gripping chan’s hips as if he’s afraid we’ll fade into mist where his hands touch, but if the older notices, he doesn’t say anything. chan rubs his face on changbin’s neck, softly nuzzling, and their hands find each other in a faint crash, a quiet rebellion under their fingernails. changbin understands, now, why minho got so devastated by chan so quick. he sees it, in his smile and in his fingertips, in the curl of his hair and in the shape of his body. changbin sees, although he feels blinded.
“now i have both of your colognes.” chan shrugs after stepping away, hand still in changbin’s.
he keeps stunned all the way to the third floor, where they meet minho while he’s sitting on the ground with a scowl, bag on his feet as he taps away in his phone. changbin thinks he looks small, next to the big door that leads to the science lab, like a little boy. the idea is weird, but welcome; it’s always nice to think of minho.
“finally!” he shoots up, wasting no time to hug them, each arm on each one of their hips. minho kisses their cheeks too, as loudly as he can, and chan squeezes his hand in embarrassment.
“it didn’t take that long, dear.” changbin rolls his eyes, merely watching as minho throws an arm around chan’s waist, smiling.
“it’s true, min.” the older of the three declares, all eyes on him at the way he says the nickname in a small voice.
“min?” minho coos, crashing his chin in chan’s shoulder not so carefully. “you’re so fucking cute- just date us already, dammit.”
changbin chokes in his own spit, but laughs when he sees minho’s expression, the boy poking at chan’s cheek gently.
“ask me right and i will.” the older answers, toying with the hem of minho’s shirt. “you both must ask, though.”
his heart starts to speed up at that, aggressively punching against changbin’s cage as if it could leave purple spots in his chest, the layer between reality and his own feelings getting as thin as one small string of water. a breath catches in his throat, but his heart seems to be taking a deep breath.
silence sits between them, tension as intense as a red string wrapped around their bodies, keeping them together. changbin breathes, and the sound of it is as loud as a thunder.
“why both of us, angel?” minho asks, eyeing chan up and down. changbin is grateful he was the one to speak up first.
“because,” chan blinks, face blank as he insisted. however, his thumb caresses the back of changbin’s knuckles, gentleness in the way they danced in his skin. it’s light, almost as if he could feel changbin just by touching his palms. “i need to make sure both of you… want this. as much as… i do.”
it feels out of place, the three of them in a hallway sorting out such complicated things like this. but changbin knows better, because, after all, it is simple. simple as the way minho’s hands cup his cheeks in the morning, simple as chan’s small laughs when he looks through his classroom’s door and sees changbin in the hallway, simple as how minho’s cologne basks over their skin like it found its home after years of glueing to the wrong people. changbin finds it in places he never thought it would, filling up his heart with tipsy braveness, and he knows what to say even before the words spill from his lips.
“be our boyfriend.” the younger exhales, looking around with a susceptive glance. the hallway is empty as most classes are, too, the school day over for the time being. he’s not scared someone will listen, but something gnaws at his guts with the urge to touch the people beside him, chest seeking for being filled up. “let minho take us to his stupid date ideas. let me make you love songs. let us.”
chan makes a sound at the back of his throat before smiling, eyes curving hardly as if the euphoria is too much to bear. he giggles, fuzzy all over the edges, and covers minho’s hand where it dangles from his waist. “okay.”
minho laughs, changbin snorts, and life goes on with shades of pink covering every wall in their school. it’s sappy, as it’s supposed to be, and changbin feels like writing a letter. or diving in and kissing them both silly. he manages to do one of them that day, and the letter comes a bit later.
contrary to how tame things were, they changed quickly after the officialization of their relationship. it started with a few side glances at his adam’s apple, followed by a small blush in changbin’s cheeks and a smirk from minho’s lips, treacherous as one can be. chan tries to look back, gathering determination to battle against minho’s eyes, but he’s shut down rather easily when their orbs meet, brown on brown layering over themselves, competing for the last laugh. minho wins—of course he does, and changbin chuckles from besides them, a hand in chan’s back pocket while they mess around in the bathroom a few weeks later, waiting for the hallways to clear up so they could maybe, perhaps ditch class. chan isn’t as in board as the other two lovers are, but he’s very easy to convince otherwise when it comes to changbin’s pleading stares and minho’s hands on his hip. he’s a very weak man, after all.
“what is it, baby?” minho’s lips are twitching up when he says it, like he’s holding back laughter. it makes chan whine and bury his face in changbin’s neck.
the younger smiles, but takes chan’s head off of him gently, hand on his chin. “answer him, channie. he made you a question.”
“i’m older than both of you!” he protests, freeing himself from changbin’s grip on his chin. however, the younger spins him easily by the hand on his pocket, forcing him to keep close.
minho is sat on the sink, weighing himself in his hands as his legs dangle in the air. most of the time, it’s always chan clinging to changbin and minho watching them with a smirk, only stopping when they’re alone and complaining his ear off about how they’re not getting enough attention. they’ve talked about it, because everything seems to be a topic when they’re together, and it’s settled in stone that minho prefers watching them from afar in a protective way so they’re not bothered by anyone. he’s cheeky, though, so most of the times he ends up caving and asking to be held, kneeing into them like a cat. chan realizes minho doing it a lot, nowadays—he mewls, growls, purrs. there’s a big resemblance in his eyes, too. it’s cute.
“and?” minho humours him, slicking back his blonde hair. under the artificial lighting, he looks sharp, eyes piercing through the windows like they own the entire world outside. chan secretly believes he does. “you’re always acting younger.”
“when do i do that?” the brunette asks, but it’s useless. he sees minho getting out of the sink, already making his way to where he and changbin are pressed against the wall, and expectantly waits. his hand is cold when he touches chan’s cheek, cupping the side of his face while the other rests in changbin’s back.
“when you ask for kisses.” changbin butts in, grazing his lips on chan’s other cheek. minho looks at him with a pretty glint in his eyes, like he’s proud, and presses a kiss onto the corner of changbin’s mouth quickly.
the blonde hums, agreeing. “and when you like being called baby. you don’t care, do you?”
“about what?” chan answers, breathless. he finds his voice, unable to contain himself even when he knows minho is doing all he can to make him quiet. his heart, where it’s covered, bangs under his skin, demanding freedom.
“about being treated as younger. about being seen as a pretty thing. you like it. it makes you happy.” his words aren’t cruel, but minho makes it sound harsh with how his eyes stare fixedly at chan, almost reprimanding. changbin’s eyes are the same as well, laughter on the tip of the younger’s tongue, and chan makes a distressed noise. “tsc, you don’t even disagree.”
it’s all been talked about. but he didn’t imagine it would make him feel like he’s owned, as if the hands on his body are there to leave imprints. he indulges easily, and his lips form an unconscious pout, begging for a kiss.
“because it’s true.” chan tries to fight back, but is left speechless when changbin kisses his neck. minho takes his wrists gently, and chan lets him, putting them against the older’s back as if he’s chained. the brunette balls his fists, but complies. he always does.
“hm,” changbin says, looking up at him with a smirk. he’s almost always gentle, but this—this is something else, a whole new aggressiveness in the way he eyes chan. “what a shame.”
the older boy blushes faintly as minho gingerly caresses his undercut, still affectionate even if he’s indulging to the side of him that wants to wine and dine both chan and changbin until they’re raw in his bed, chest heaving up and down. it’s just one of minho’s countless wishes, and chan wants to give it to him as badly as he wants any of them to kiss him right now.
“practically begging to be messed with, right, dear?” minho whispers, getting dangerously close to chan’s lips, the boy’s head flashing in red nuances as he pants.
changbin and minho talk as if they’re equals, two pairs of brown irises eyeing chan as if he’s a meal, a pretty thing to have fun with. he feels small despite being older and taller, but it’s not as bad as he thought it would be. chan imagined the first time to be awkward and agonizing, the feeling of being under their dominant stares a thing he feared for days when they first mentioned it. however, now, it’s not bad. something in his chest is cheering in excitement, an enormous smile threatening to spill for his mouth. it does, partly, and he sees it in minho’s eyes, the orbs getting soft for a minute. only a minute, though. it passes as fast as it came.
“of course. for whom else he’d look this pretty for?” changbin agrees, faintly whispering in chan’s ear. and he’s happy. happy to be there, happy to hold their hands when he gets overwhelmed and happy to have their shoulders to fall on, lips red and glossy.
they take turns with kissing him silly and teasing, gently sighing the word “baby” when chan gets too bold; moments like these make him feel loved, wanted, so his heart never really stops cheering. the small compliments thrown under their breaths, the way changbin looks when he’s being held back by minho’s arms and just watching with adoring eyes as he breathes, how gorgeous he feels when all three of them look into the mirror. they’re ruined, hair messy and shirts wrinkled, but chan feels… different. as if he’s one of a kind, the most beautiful in a sea of prettiness. it’s hard to contain himself from swimming away in the velvety feel, white lace and pearls surrounding his eyes until everything is the color of their skin under diamonds, covered in the clothes minho likes to buy them from time to time. the earring on his ear twinkles from where it fits around his skin, matching with minho’s and changbin’s, as bright as light itself. chan feels his chest glowing, absorbing the light coming through the window, and they’re all smiling. when they get out of the bathroom, chan secretly holds their pinkies. his heart beats a bit faster when they hold his back.
(there are always rumours. the school is filled with them the next day, mouths whispering about the supposed loss of chan’s virginity to two delinquents that aren’t really trying in school but pass anyway because their parents are rich. they get to the president’s ears by his best friend, sana, and in little time minho and changbin hear about it too. to say chan’s upset is an understatement, but it gets better after they eat ice cream next to the han river with sana, his best friend getting along with them as well as expected. in the end of the day, he’s sure she and minho exchanged numbers for more than just talking about him.)
(and if minho and changbin try to be more tame with him at school, chan doesn’t mention it.)
Chapter 2: ii.
if he only had one wish, he’d make sure changbin and minho are being loved to the point of madness.
theyre very soft n warm. like mashed potatoe
there's uh slight smut in this? i'm a lesbian who has 0 interest in writing three guys fucking, but it's important to their relationship, i swear. if you're not comfortable reading it (even if implied), i think if you skip the v. section you'll be fine. also no i don't regret writing pole dancer!minchan
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
the fireplace lights up the living room as quietly as changbin’s snores on chan’s chest, shadows tracing his features with artist hands, trailing off like bubblegum sticking on fingertips. changbin’s breaths are rosy, sugary, gently invading the atmosphere and evading in a rush. as delicate as little butterflies orbiting around his mouth, it fills up the room, the only sound being made between three bodies. minho reads on the other couch, round glasses a bit too big on him resting over the top of his nose, his eyes even more wide. the page swipes happen occasionally, sound almost nonexistent, but chan pays attention to them anyways - minho waits until the end of the page to blink his long lashes, and he takes a few seconds to the words to sink in before swapping to another one. it’s mechanic: he reads, blinks, adjusts his glasses then goes on; chan finds himself paying extreme attention to it. every time minho blinks, he childishly holds his breath, just to let it out when he goes on with this little ritual of his.
at the seventh or eighth time - not that he’s been counting -, minho pointedly stares back, like a parent who caught their children watching them curiously. chan’s eyelids are falling, gently so, as if gravity is a blanket over his face, and he has no energy to glare back at minho. he blinks, then, falling into the depth of his lover’s features, and watches with great amuse how minho’s face softens up in the blink of an eye, turning as pliant as clay when it’s still wet. containing his fingers from poking at his cheek is a hard task, as chan is certain that they’d sink into his skin if he did so. the darkness of the room hugs him, engulfs his tired body in a way no lover ever could, and he feels as though as if he was light itself, surrounded by the dark and as faint as minho’s lamp, nothing in sight except for the feeling of skin on his hands, arms, legs.
“you two should go to sleep,” minho murmurs, placing his hands over the pages of his book while staring at chan and changbin on the couch.
chan yawns, quietly. “you too,” his voice is rough, tender; it draws a line as much as it brings minho closer, and he feels himself walking towards it like a siren charmed sailor. minho blinks, and the warmness wraps around him, sticks around to unexplained places.
he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. what he would say becomes a faint dust in the air, spreading its wings and flying far, far away, a fairy in all the meanings to it. minho feels his heart squeezing tight in his chest, and he’s not sure where to begin. he just wants to sleep.
“okay.” minho answers, closing the book after carding the page gingerly. his glasses slip to his nose again, but this time he doesn’t fix it, instead opting to take them off.
chan swallows another yawn, and absentmindedly nuzzles changbin’s bair, brown locks on his nose smelling like his bedsheets and that one song chan has played on repeat for a week now. he watches lazily as minho walks around the house looking for his slippers, and smiles when he puts on his sweatshirt. it’s warm, how domestic it is. chan can get used to it, to coming home from college and seeing minho in his little reading glasses and changbin in his flannels, napping. to sleeping in the same bed and sharing nights like this, where minho goes around the living room changing his clothes and changbin snores on his chest, rocked to sleep like a baby. he could.
minho waits for them at the bedroom’s door, and chan has his elbows full with changbin’s body, his head laid on his shoulder, tilted lovely. he lays first, and both of them cuddle to his chest instantly, pinkies linked over his heart. he’s out in a minute, tired from a long day, but a thought lingers on the darkness of his head until the moment he swims away in dreams. like a film screen, chan remembers thinking that, if he only had one wish, he’d make sure changbin and minho are being loved to the point of madness.
after that, everything went in dark shades of blue and loose weights on his chest. he’s used to this.
chan is cooking the first time it happens. he’s in their kitchen trying to make ramen soup, windows open as the sun sets lazily upon his eyes, the clouds coming together as one to watch over his hands. changbin and minho are cuddled on the couch, probably bickering, and there’s a song in the back that plays in the vinil his father got minho for his birthday. the song is from chan’s playlist by how it sounds, instrumental gentle and the singer’s voice barely raising as it lulls their home to a quiet state, chan’s eyes open wide to take it all in. the scenery, the smell, the sun on his lips - it filled up his senses in ways music did to people. mindlessly, he sang a bit of it, english getting slurred by his accent but still as certain as it could be, words spilling out and emptying him up, getting as light as a balloon and floating across their house without second thoughts.
as quickly as it came, it left, and he found himself with night as company and three bowls of food, table already set by minho a few minutes before he started. chan prepared, and took it to them in the living room, just to find minho laying in changbin’s shoulder, asleep.
“is he…” he whispers, sitting on the ground next to the center table and placing the bowls over it.
“yeah,” changbin smiles a bit, his own eyes sort of sleepy too. “he fell asleep when you were singing.”
chan laughs, ears a rosy tone. “oh.”
changbin stares at him for a short moment before slipping to the ground as well, leaving minho to sleep in the couch. “you should do it more often. it’s nice.” he starts eating, his hair wet from the shower he took in the evening. there’s something indescribably sweet about the little smile in his face, as if he’s trying to fight back laughter, and chan absolutely adores how happy changbin looks.
the older shrugs, and starts eating too. “i never thought about it, honestly. i just used to have singing classes in middle school.”
“i know, you showed us the pictures,” changbin laughs, amused. “it seemed to calm minho, though. you know he’s having trouble sleeping.”
“yeah, but, you know… most times cuddles do the work. minho could fall asleep like a baby as long as someone holds him,” chan debates, and the words sound funny in his tongue. “if you want to hear me singing you could just ask.”
changbin’s face breaks into a smile, childish. he looks younger when he smiles - his face scrunches up and his eyes look euphoric, even when he’s not that happy. it’s heartwarming, comfortable, and it eases chan’s heart, untying knots that strung into him like guitar chords. “sing for me, then. please.”
chan gives off a shy laugh. “you know i’m a law student, right? and not a singer?”
“how could i not? everytime i see you speaking lawyer i feel the urge to bend you ov-”
“shut up!” he exclaims, in english, and almost doubles over in laughter.
the topic dies then, but chan does complies a few nights after changbin asked. they went out in a romantic trip, and minho was having trouble sleeping away from their house, which changbin used to his advantage to ask for a song. chan spent two hours or so singing about twinkling stars and all shades of yellow, but in the end, it did help all of them to sleep. in the morning, when they woke up, minho only remembered falling asleep squished between two bodies he loves the most.
minho loves pole dance. it’s a common thing for them to pick him up at dance class, and most of the times minho comes back glowing with enthusiasm, babbling about new movements and songs he wants to dance to. however, it wasn’t normal to chan to be interested in that - more of a shy kid, he never really thought about trying until minho begged him to take classes, so they could make a surprise for changbin’s birthday in one of those private strip clubs.
his first classes were awkward, and the bruises in his legs for falling over got gradually harder to hide from changbin’s eyes and hands, but eventually he got the hang of it and ended up having fun. in his fourth week, their teacher congratulated him in learning fast, and in his last day she gave him a hug, showering him in compliments.
“one of my best students!” momo said, happily clapping. minho watched him from afar, laughing to himself while drinking water, and chan felt a wave of shy proudness wash over him.
“thank you, noona,” he gave her his brightest smile, shooting thumbs up to minho behind her back.
later, when they were about to leave and rain poured down from their practice room, minho made him dance to a beyoncé song he’s been dying to see ever since he stepped next to the pole. needless to say, it ended up being the chosen song for changbin’s birthday surprise.
the room is locked, a particular strip club or something like that, and there’s a pole in front of changbin, which is being very much used by minho. the lights are dimly lit, barely there if any, and there are multiple shades of pink in minho’s faces, blending and molding into his features as he peacefully wraps himself around the pole, thighs squeezing the metal like they belong there in the first place. minho always does that: he takes place, adapts, becomes one with everything he wants. right now, while he’s twirling and swaying to something — it seems like a song, but changbin is too caught up to recognize — there’s no longer a place where minho starts and dancing ends, because they melt into each other, every aspect of minho becoming more and more visible as his moves become smoother, teasing, as if daring chan to come closer.
minho does dares him a lot. the dancing feels just fiting.
it’s enthralling, because minho isn’t even in fancy clothes like he usually is. he’s wearing sweatpants, chan’s old sweatpants, and a white shirt, not doing it to tempt changbin no matter how fun it is. he’s just dancing, looking all sorts of cozy with his makeup free face, his nails a black color now that autumn finally dawned to seoul. the song plays, minho dances, and changbin doesn’t want to go home, his breath getting mingled into the lights as if they sympathized with each other. minho is always entrancing, but when he’s dancing, the room seems to orbitate around him as his skin glistens like the sun, cupid bow frowned when he concentrates. sometimes, his shirt riles up enough for changbin to see the surgery scar on his ribs and the smooth skin of his tummy, which probably shouldn’t drive him as crazy as it does. it makes him reminded of how talented minho is, even more than he’s beautiful, and it settles sweetly around his neck. something gently taps in his chest, a proudness he’s not sure where it came from. changbin thinks he looks lovesick, but minho’s all over the room, healthy and shining like he does.
when the song abruptly stops, he almost vocally expresses his dissatisfaction, but keeps himself quiet as minho heaves. there’s a table around the pole, and the younger sits there, knees gently brushing changbin’s from where they’re resting in the sofa. he waits a few more minutes to jump next to changbin, and throws his legs on his lap as he sits.
“what did you think?” minho asks, eager. he kisses changbin’s cheek in greeting, and smiles at the lazy blush in his ears.
“you looked…” changbin trails off. “like… i think you looked like you owned the place. or like one of those… mythology goddesses? when they kill mortals after fucking them. yeah. kinda like that.”
the blonde laughs, sound of it gently blowing into the air. changbin smiles too. “that’s highly specific, dear. but i’ll take it. still - don’t be spoiled, though. i’m not the main event.”
“if not you, then who?” changbin asks, blinking sheepishly.
minho only smiles. “he is.”
changbin has always thought of chan as attractive, but minho has a way of making him tempting that no one else has. he’s doing the same routine as minho, except that, this time, he’s not wearing sweatpants. he’s in a choker, a white one changbin saw minho wearing before, and he’s dipped in lace, shirt almost see through as it merges with his skin gracefully. there’s a thigh harness in his legs that probably helps him maintain himself on the pole, but it purposefully kills changbin with the imagery. his lips are painted in a soft pink, red mingling at the puffy middle, and minho laughs proudly at changbin’s stunned reaction. for a moment, the world narrows to the blue lights over his lover’s face, and changbin forgets how to breathe just a little. the song, he now recognizes, is one of his favorites, guitar strings buzzing in his skull along with chan’s hips and minho’s hand on his nape, guiding his eyes to the performance ahead of his eyes.
the room seems to be filled with it; chan’s skin and the smell of minho’s hair in every corner, and changbin doesn’t remember a time where he’s been happier than this. the pink shades paint the walls, making the place their little love nest, and the shining metallic pole is bright with his lovers’ fingertips, a show made to him and to him only. changbin gulps through a dry throat, and he feels overwhelmed with the amount of love floating on the air, gently sprinkling his black hair with haziness, his tongue unable to speak as the song comes to an end, breathing filling up the room. chan gets out of the table in a rush, and kisses him silly, a smile in his mouth that changbin never even imagined before. it was blinding, like the summer; devastating, like time passing.
“happy birthday,” the older whispers to his lips as minho presses closer too, sitting on one of his thighs as chan takes the other. the weight of their legs are heavy and hot over the fabric of his jeans, just like the atmosphere under his tongue, and changbin has half the mind to latch his lips on them, wherever he can. they meet minho’s neck in the progress, and chan cuddles closer to his own, laying his chin over changbin’s shoulder and fondling with his earlobe, playing with the earrings with his teeth gently.
“thank you,” changbin says, between kisses. “i love, love, love you. the two of you. so much,”
they whisper it back to him, but changbin is too busy with the feeling of skin over his body, and he stops talking as soon as he realizes that nothing he’d speak would ever compare to this, the three of them together and molding into each other, honey dripping from the air minho’s breathes next to him. it’s good, too good, changbin gets lost in it, in the hands on his back and the hands unbuckling his belt, sweeter than sweetness itself.
ever since school ended, they never did anything truly sexual. minho and changbin had done it before, of course, but after chan they chose to wait for his consent as well, the older one not as confident to lose his virginity as the other two were when they met each other. however, now, chan seems to be willing, desperately searching for changbin’s hands, his own trembling with something he doesn’t seem to recognize. changbin sees his nervousness, and it aches at his heart.
“baby, calm down,” he speaks up, squeezing chan’s hands. “we love you. you can do anything you want, even if it means stopping and going home,”
minho tunes in at that, and he takes chan’s other hand into his, nodding encouragingly. the older half smiles, but he seems calmer after a few minutes nuzzling his nose against changbin’s. “okay. okay. i’m ready.”
and it was a decision made by chan only, but the trust and love in his eyes convinced changbin that the three of them were the only path to walk in the troublesome life of his, minho’s pinky intertwined with chan’s under changbin’s hand a feeling to never let go of. the ride to their apartment has never been so short.
changbin has always loved minho’s fluttery breaths, but chan’s moans mixed with them are a symphony to hear forever. his hands are rough where they press against the older’s hips, guiding him with bites and pinches as minho mouths against changbin’s nape, a soft hum in his voice. he feels glued to the feeling, his own hips slamming against the boy on top of his with little to no restraint. minho keeps him in place, holding his waist to stop changbin from being greedy, and the lighting of their room makes chan’s face look like a renascent painting. his voice is slurred, not really making any sense, and it soothes changbin’s ego just a bit. minho, from behind him, bites his neck. if it’s a punishment or a reward, he can’t tell.
the smell of skin and nature clouds changbin’s nose, the warmth of three bodies coming together gently taking him to the edge, making him helplessly drown in pleasure and trust. love, he figures, is the blush on chan’s bare neck, covered in purple and red spots, his collarbones sitting under bite marks, almost a choker of them with how his skin shines, the thin material of his necklace dangling from his bones. there’s a diamond in it, a small one staring at changbin as he goes harder, faster, guided by minho’s own movements, and he feels more than just lust; it’s trust, in the way chan’s face is calm and collected even if his breaths are strangled, and it’s home, in the way minho’s whole body fits against his, hands familiar, firm. he’s in control of chan’s hips and under the control of minho’s pounding, but it doesn’t suffocates him. other than that, it drives him to the breaking point, safely tucked between the two bodies he loves the most.
he melts, then, over chan’s body, and it doesn’t take long before minho does too, being quickly followed by chan. they merge between each other, body becoming one, and changbin collapses next to them, chest up and down like a carousel ride. minho whines, a few inches afar from him, about how dirty he is, and chan hums, staring up at the ceiling with thoughtful eyes. his whole body is littered in pretty colorful spots, a canvas in all its meanings, and changbin can’t look away from him, giddy. he feels like giggling, like kissing chan’s whole face, because he’s just so happy. it’s too intimate, this new scenery in his head, the smile in the older’s face a concrete proof that changbin has never been so in love with two people before.
chan laughs, shyly, and minho lays his head on his chest, burying his own smile in the milky skin. “i’m so happy,”
“me too,” changbin laughs, too, because his heart has no other way of exploding in adoration. the light of their room swings in his mind, paired up with his lovers’ smile, and it’s enough for changbin to fall in love with the world again.
“no, really. i’m so… happy. complete,” chan continues, a strand of dyed blonde hair falling in his eyes. “i think you two are the whole of my heart.”
minho nuzzles chan’s chest gently, and looks at changbin from across the bed, his eyes unbelievably pretty as they always had been. “our baby has grown up a lot,”
“he has.” changbin agrees.
“shut up!” chan whines, childishly, and pulls changbin to his chest, leaning his head against minho’s sweetly. “shut up. let me just enjoy this for a moment and then you can go back to be a pain in the ass,”
“literally a pain in the ass,” minho jokes, making changbin burst out laughing.
however, they do spend the rest of the evening like that, only getting out of bed to prepare for dinner in a fancy restaurant no one of them knew how to pronunciate. changbin has never had a birthday this good.
(they never did well at fancy dinners, so when chan suggested they should go to mcdonalds after two hours of waiting in line because they forgot to reserve a table, minho had half the mind to laugh at their situation. that’s how, at one in the morning, they found themselves eating nuggets in suits and makeup.)
(needless to say, minho has never once doubted they were the whole of his heart.)
uh this was supposed to be a bonus or smth like that but i really love this au so i'll see about writing other chapters for it,,, i may not have enough time as i have a few projects on going, and i may be busy with school too, but this au is a really good break from the more serious fics in my drafts. i plan to take some time for myself until the end of school (it ends in december and starts again in february), which honestly may not happen, but i need at least a few weeks to get my self productive again. see u later? thank u for reading and if you leave a comment i'd be the happiest to read it~ bye bye