Actions

Work Header

1, 2, 3!

Work Text:

 

 

 

Seungri falls backwards onto his couch, bouncing on the leather cushions and swinging his socked feet up onto the armrest, crossing them comfortably at the ankle. He’s already scrolling before his phone is even up to his face, navigating his way through Matchbox.  At first launch the app was meant to partner up alphas and omegas for their heats and ruts, but its popularity soon made it a first stop for casual hookups too. And that’s all Seungri is after today. He’s not looking for anything specific, just someone hot he can let off a little steam with. It’s Friday evening and it’s been a hellish week at work—oh fuck that, who is he kidding, every work week is hell when you don’t love your job.

Correction: Seungri likes his job as Social Media Specialist for the large chain restaurant Aori Ramen just fine, but he would like it a lot more if corporate would man up and finally offer him that promotion he’s been working his ass off for. Sick of feeling like a cog in a machine, he’s ready to step up and manage a team and they know it. He’s so close to having it in his hands he can taste it. And it tastes like the finest, most mouthwatering bowl of steaming-hot ramen for hundreds of miles around.

It also smells like the crisp, tantalizing scent of newly-minted money, like a fat wallet bursting at the seams with wads of cold hard cash. It isn’t that Seungri needs the extra funds, but a little spare cash never hurt anyone, did it? How else is he supposed to pay off this gold-plated phone case?

He’s in the middle of that thought when something gold catches his eye, and it’s not his phone case. It is, however, smiling down at him through his phone’s screen.

It’s a young man about his age with golden hair—no, gold in the shadows but a blinding white-blond in the light. It’s brushed forward over his forehead and brows and ends just above his eyes, which Seungri sees are attractively sharp and accented with a hint of—is that makeup? A smudge of eyeshadow at the corners, a touch of liner, it’s hard to tell with the sun bleaching his face white. Seungri zooms in on his face, trying to make sense of his washed-out features above that megawatt smile. Couldn’t this guy get a better pic? He seems cute from what Seungri can see, but his selfie game obviously isn’t very strong.

Looking for: casual fun. Committed A/O couple seeking an extra partner to join us for my next heat, the first line reads.

My next heat. His search is filtered by omegas, but a quick glance confirms it. This dude’s an omega, and that’s great, because even before he checked Seungri could see the two of them smashing.

“Sounds like fun,” he mumbles, skimming through his bio for the important bits. It’s not long, but he just doesn’t have the patience. And that little notice in the corner of his screen, alerting him to others viewing the listing—er, the omega’s profile—ignites in him a sense of urgency. He hates that sneaky feature. It uses his competitive nature as an alpha against him, prompting him to act before others beat him to it.

Alpha preferred.

Seungri snorts. He might as well say betas need not apply. No beta, or omega for that matter, is going to step up to the plate with a request like that staring him in the face. If an alpha is what this guy wants, an alpha is what he’s going to get.

Seungri swipes right... and waits.

He wishes he could see the guy’s alpha partner, but no luck. It’s just him in his profile pic, no other photos to be found.

Seungri settles in for the wait. He’s not worried. It isn’t the alpha whose heat he’ll be buried in.

Daesung. That’s his name. He can’t wait to be moaning it, mouthing it into sweat-slicked skin while he fucks into him with abandon, just the way it’s meant to be done. An omega in heat deserves nothing less.

His hand is snaking into his pants before Seungri knows it, a growing heat of his own nudging at his open palm. Damn. It’s been awhile since his last rut. He’s up for some fun heat sex—literally already up for it—but when is this guy’s next heat anyway? Soon, he hopes. Real soon. Like tonight soon.

A sudden, triumphant tune from his phone startles his hand out of his pants. He wipes it on his shirt and scrabbles for his phone.

It’s a match.

He can’t open the chat fast enough, taps out a quick message with slightly sticky fingers, keeping it short and sweet. Hits “send” before he can think too hard on it. It’s not his best, but with so much blood collecting below, a snappy pickup line is the farthest thing from his mind. Besides, they’ve already matched. That alone puts him a step ahead of the rest.

Not a minute later he’s got a reply, and soon after that, a request to meet. He isn’t too worried about his chances; Seungri is easy, he’s sure they’ll hit it off just fine.

The real challenge will be his alpha other half.

 

 

-1-

 

 

With the weekend upon them already, they meet the very next day. Before Seungri heads out he gives his Gucci suit a long, considering look. Maybe...

He drags himself away reluctantly. First impressions matter, but there is still such a thing as coming on too strong. And in the presence of another alpha, that could end in something worse than rejection—it could get him thrown out on his ass.

They’re meeting at a bar on 6th over drinks. Quirky little place that Seungri used to frequent back in his school days. He still comes here from time to time to socialize, but always on the weekends after dark when the college crowd is out in full swing and filling up the floorspace. The place looks and feels different without the usual hustle and bustle. The bar’s all but dead, the unexpected emptiness actually kind of unsettling... but that might make things easier for him. He won't have to fight to keep his new interest's attention, at least, or yell himself hoarse trying to be heard over the crowd. He scans the room for blond hair, and when he doesn’t find who he’s looking for, heads upstairs to the patio.

Bingo. A head of shocking white-blond hair grabs his eye. It’s even more dazzling than in the photo, impossible to miss, and Seungri starts over eagerly, confident that he’s found his target.

He takes a seat on the sofa sectional, sliding in smoothly while Daesung’s head is down, totally engrossed in his phone. He looks comfortable in a two-toned green cardigan, light on one side, dark on the other, complete with a modest white undershirt beneath, and a stolen glance below reveals a pair of hip-hugging, ripped-up jeans. The cardigan says one thing about him; the open holes in his pants say another. To Seungri’s amusement, he doesn’t seem to notice him, lost in whatever he’s typing out on what appears to be a familiar chat window, one Seungri knows well.

“Is that for me?”

Daesung nearly drops his phone in fright.

Jesus!” he half-laughs, half-cries. “I didn’t see you come in. How long have you been there?”

“Not long,” Seungri says breezily. Then thinks better of it and goes for a different approach. “Well, long enough to start feeling a little ignored.”

There's a hint of truth to it. He’s honestly surprised and a little thrown that Daesung didn’t see him sooner, or at all, until he spoke up. Seungri has always prided himself on the way omegas’ eyes tend to catch on him and stick, moving with him as he carries himself with confidence through a room. He loves that kind of riveted, helpless-to-look-away attention from them; he feeds on it. That this omega didn’t even notice him when he was seated just a few feet away, waiting to be acknowledged...

What kind of omega doesn’t perk up at the presence of an alpha? Seungri wonders what that says about their chemistry. Or—perish the thought—their lack of it.

“Sorry.” Daesung offers him a smile in apology, and the sincerity in it soothes the sting a little. “You’re right though.” He turns his phone around for Seungri to see. “I was telling you where to find us. Didn’t want you waiting around on the ground floor, thinking we were running late or had decided to ditch you or whatever.”

“It's cool, I thought I’d find you up here,” Seungri says, locking eyes and leaning in. “You seem like the type to spend a lot of time in the sun.”

Daesung gives him a puzzled look. Seungri’s finds him no less handsome for it. The roundness of his face is friendly, but his eyes are deep-set and mysterious, his lips begging to be kissed, his nose, well, bigger in person, but Seungri doesn’t mind it. It pulls everything together somehow in a way Seungri can't help but like.

“Sun-bleached hair,” Seungri explains, moving in just enough to make his interest clear. He lets his eyes drop, landing on the other man’s collarbone, lingering for a moment on the mole he spots there. “Sun-kissed skin.” He is neither light nor dark but something in-between, warm and glowing, and Seungri can’t wait to get his hands on it.

“Oh,” Daesung says, fingering the ends of his long, blond bangs. He laughs like he's embarrassed and Seungri is charmed all over again. “This is definitely from a bottle. But thanks.”

Obviously, Seungri thinks, fighting not to roll his eyes. Come on, just let me pay you a compliment.

He doesn’t get a chance to follow up on that though, because someone, another man, is setting two glasses of dark wine on the low table between them, and if Seungri thought Daesung’s hair was dramatic...

Mint, his mind supplies. Mint blue.

First bleach blond and now blue? His plain black hair feels tame in comparison.

The man drops onto the sectional sofa beside Daesung, close enough that they touch from knee to hip. It’s intimate, the way he initiates the contact. It’s subtly possessive, the way he crowds him.

This must be his boyfriend. The alpha.

“You must be Seungri,” he says, extending a hand for Seungri to take. Seungri does and can’t help noticing how his own hand is swallowed up in the handshake.

Long fingers. He gives him a quick once-over. Long, straight legs. A long, thin, seriously handsome face. He wonders what else of his is long.

He smells like an alpha though, and it’s putting him on edge in a bad way.

“I’m Seunghyun,” he tells Seungri with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That’s funny, I’m Seunghyun too,” Seungri says, reminding himself to uncurl his fists before he goes and does something stupid like throw a punch. “But everyone just calls me Seungri.”

“Uh oh,” Daesung says, grinning. “Two Seunghyuns? Handling one is hard enough.”

“I’ll bet,” Seungri says, glancing at the front of Seunghyun’s slacks and not being shy about it. “So does that mean I should go...?” he asks, making as if to get up and leave.

“No!” Daesung and Seunghyun say in unison, Daesung practically shouting it at him as he leaps to his feet while Seunghyun... well, it’s hard to tell what Seunghyun is thinking with his mouth hidden behind a glass of wine, but Seungri is so sure he heard two voices just now, he’s willing to bet his gold phone case on it.

“I wasn’t really going to, was just messing with you.” Returning to his seat, he slips his phone from his pant pocket and lays it on the table, case up. He spent a small fortune on that. It deserves to be seen.

He’s glad he passed on the Gucci suit now. That coupled with this would have been way too much, and strangely, Daesung doesn’t seem impressed anyway... just falls back onto the sofa in palpable relief when Seungri retakes his seat.

Well, at least he’s wanted here, that much is clear.

“Here, this’ll help,” Seunghyun offers, sparing Seungri’s phone a glance as he plucks Daesung’s yet-untouched glass of wine from the table and offers it to him, holding it delicately by the stem.

Daesung accepts the drink and sips at it politely, eyeing Seungri thoughtfully.

“As I told you on Matchbox, my heat’s not for another week. You’re probably wondering why we asked to meet you here ahead of time,” he says after a moment's consideration.

Seungri shrugs. “I just thought you were being safe.” Or being picky. Giving themselves time to find someone else if they didn’t find him to their liking. Although Seungri can’t imagine why they wouldn’t.

He spares Seunghyun’s long hand a glance. Okay, he doesn’t have the man’s freaky long fingers, but he can make up for it in other ways. It’s not his fingers Daesung will be begging him for in a week’s time.

“We are being safe,” Seunghyun says, settling back against the sofa. His posture exudes confidence, but his eyes are anxious. “Because we’ve never done this before.”

Seungri looks back and forth between them. “I’m sorry, never done what?”

“Shared,” Seunghyun says, pinning him with a solemn stare.

“Uh,” Seungri says unintelligently. He hates when he freezes up like this, thankfully it isn’t often, but he thought he was here to have fun, and the glare the other alpha is throwing his way is borderline threatening. Or sulking. Does he want him here or not?

“I don’t know if this is...” a good idea? He struggles to finish that thought out loud, not wanting to bow out but worried their uncertain arrangement will blow up in his face if he doesn’t.

“It was his idea,” Seunghyun says rather peevishly, nodding tightly at Daesung, and… is he sulking?

“And it’s a good one,” Daesung insists, though Seungri detects a note of doubt in his soft voice when he turns to his boyfriend. “You said you wanted to. You said it sounded like fun. And you know how sometimes you—” He flashes Seungri a look, as if just remembering his presence, and says no more.

Seunghyun squares his jaw and stares at something over Seungri’s shoulder, refusing to answer.

Seungri doesn’t know what to do with himself. Should he say something? Let them work it out themselves? Maybe he should go after all. Tell them they can get back to him when they’re serious about bringing him into the bedroom with them. Jealousy is a hell of a drug for an alpha, and he can see it lurking beneath the surface of Seunghyun’s wild eyes. This could get messy fast, and not in the way Seungri hoped.

He came here to have a good time, not waste his time.

“No, please,” Daesung tries to set his glass down without spilling the wine while making a grab for Seungri’s sleeve, encouraging him back into his seat even before he’s attempted to stand. “Don’t go, we want you to stay, this can work. I mean, it’s just for fun, right? Seunghyun is just...” He sighs, giving his boyfriend a look that Seungri would only describe as pitying.

“An alpha,” Seungri finishes for him with a tense yet knowing smile. “I get it. I know how it is.”

Except he doesn’t know how it is, not really, because while he’s had a few flings here and there, and even some fuckbuddies he’s on friendly terms with, he’s never had anyone to truly call his own. He plays with singles when they need him and couples when they want him and talks about love like he’s held it in his hands, but… he’s never really felt it, never really reached out and grasped it for himself. He has only ever heard about it secondhand.

And that suits him just fine. Seungri wants many things, but to go steady isn’t one of them. For an attractive alpha in his prime, with his pick of partners far and wide, the freedom of bachelor life is difficult to imagine leaving behind. He’s just not ready to settle down.

Luckily for these two, he’s free and available to see to their needs. An omega’s heat can be quite a force, and Seungri looks forward to helping Daesung through his. While Seunghyun kicks back and watches, of course. It’s not often that he gets to have an audience.

But first, they’ve got to get him willing. And Seungri figures if anyone here has any chance of getting through to him, it’s Daesung. So he keeps his hands politely folded and his mouth wisely shut and gives him space to work on his pouting alpha.

And it’s really something to behold.

“You’re still okay with this, right?” he asks, folding one of Seunghyun’s hands up in his own. “You’re not really having second thoughts, are you?”

As he says it he threads their fingers together, and like an invisible string holding him upright has been snipped, Seunghyun sags against him.

“No. I mean yes. I mean—” He pinches the skin between his eyes, thick brows furrowing. “You know what I mean.”

Softly, as if his words are meant for just the two of them, Daesung pushes for more.

“I need you to say it. I have to know for sure that you still—”

“I want to,” Seunghyun stops him with a kiss. “I want to as much as you do.”

Seungri picks up his phone and pretends to be interested in it, opens up his texts at random and flies through them, not really reading any of them, all while wishing he’d thought to snag a drink at the bar at the start of all this so he could lose himself in it while they work out the kinks in their arrangement.

This is so awkward. Having to sit by idly while his potential partners talk about trust and reaffirm their commitment to each other is making Seungri break into a nervous sweat. What is he getting himself into?

“It’s just...” Seunghyun peeks at Seungri from under those long, thick lashes of his. Fuck, is there any part of him that’s not gorgeous? “This guy... Seungri? He’s fuckin’ hot, you know?”

Seungri is suddenly grateful he doesn’t have a drink; he might have choked on it just now.

“And I just thought that, maybe… I dunno. I guess I didn’t think you wouldn’t find someone so…”

With a barely-contained grin, Daesung leans in to lay a kiss on the side of his boyfriend’s neck, appropriately chaste for their public setting but brimming with a promise of so much more behind closed doors. Seungri doesn’t expect the arousal that floods his groin at such a tame gesture but, well, there it is. He feels it, and if he felt brave enough to chance a look down at himself, he’d probably see it too. These pants weren’t exactly roomy to begin with.

He lays his folded hands over himself discreetly, crossing his legs for good measure.

“You feel threatened,” Daesung guesses as he pulls away from Seunghyun’s slender neck. “But I promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re the only alpha for me. This one’s just ours on loan.”

This time Seungri does choke... on his poorly concealed laughter.

Daesung turns his grin on him—and with it, those dark, sultry eyes. “Feeling a little used yet?”

Damn. Is he trying to turn Seungri on or is he always like this? How does Seunghyun stand it? He seemed sweeter at the start; now he’s all spice.

“A little,” Seungri agrees, “but isn’t that what I signed up for?” Feeling emboldened, he uncrosses his legs and takes his hands away, inviting them to get a good look at what he has to offer. “Feels pretty good actually.”

“It’ll be so hot,” Daesung returns to Seunghyun’s ear to purr into it, his full lips not quite touching the rim. Seungri feels the whisper of a breath that isn’t there on the shell of his own ear and wishes for a hot moment that he was in the other alpha’s place rather than seated across from him, left with nothing to do but look on in envy. “I can’t wait to have two alphas on me. You and Seungri. I know you’ll both take such good care of me.” He trails a finger down Seunghyun’s long torso, circling the buttons of his shirt as he goes down, down, down. His lidded eyes drip sex appeal as he reduces his alpha to a shivering, horny mess... and Seungri is lapping it all up.

And doing his best to ignore the inconvenient fact that he’s not doing much better, himself.

Seunghyun’s throat bobs as he swallows, and Seungri delights in his flustered state. When they first began he struck Seungri as a sophisticated man, a polished image of unwavering composure, perfectly put together. But that illusion has since been shattered. And now Daesung is skillfully sweeping the shards into a dustpan for safekeeping until that moment Seunghyun returns to himself, ready to glue the pieces back together.

That is the power of an omega. Stealing his alpha’s breath away with a word, a touch, a taste.

But come his heat, Daesung will be the one unable to speak. At least, he will if Seungri has any say in it.

Seungri clears his throat, half-expecting them to jump apart. They don’t. Daesung peels himself away from Seunghyun like he doesn’t want to, like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, and it’s only then that Seungri thinks that maybe it wasn’t all an act, a private show just for him. Maybe Daesung was just as into it, his spontaneous seduction. Did they forget about him?

“Just let me know when,” he says in a voice that breaks like a teenage boy’s, his throat and mouth feeling dry and cracked. And now he’s back to needing that damn drink.

From there they move on to a little small talk to give Seunghyun time to recover, so to speak. Seungri needs it too. They ask him what he does in his spare time, and when he tells them about his jiu jitsu hobby, he sees them swiftly reevaluating him. That’s anticipation he spies in Daesung’s eager eyes. And in Seunghyun’s he thinks he sees... is that a hint of intimidation?

Seungri tries not to preen.

Not long later as the night crowd is pouring in he watches them head out, eyes stuck on the curve of Daesung’s ass in those sinfully tight black jeans of his as he disappears out the door, Seunghyun holding it open for him like a true gentleman... except that in putting him in the way of it, he takes up half the doorway, leaving Daesung with little choice but to shuffle past him, no doubt brushing against him on the way by. Daesung smacks his arm lightly on his way through, with a brilliant smile and a half-hearted complaint that Seungri can’t make out from all the way over here—something about how he doesn’t have to, probably.

Just couple things. Seungri shakes his head and flags down a passing waitress. It’s time for a cold one.

Minutes later he’s kicking back and enjoying a long, savory sip of his beer. Well, he thinks, allowing himself a small smile, that went about as well as he could have hoped for, minus Seunghyun’s misgivings about him. He can’t really blame the guy though; even now, he’s practically a stranger to the both of them.

He presses the cool rim of the bottle to warm lips, mulling over the meeting. What he’d heard, what he’d seen.

There’s plenty for Seungri to work with. They’re both hot anyway, unexpectedly so. Daesung’s Matchbox bio did not do him justice, and on the surface at least, Seunghyun was a nice surprise. He can definitely see himself fucking Daesung when his heat starts up, which should be in about…

He jots down a note in his phone, adds it to his calendar. It’s just a week. Maybe he should take it easy until then, save up a little for the big event.

God, the wait is going to be agonizing. Seungri takes another swig of his drink as a distraction. He’s spoiled on spontaneous hookups, meant to meet more immediate needs, not bouts of casual sex planned out well in advance.

But hey, could be fun, and if there is one thing Seungri is always up for, it’s new experiences. He has to remind himself that today was just a preliminary test of their compatibility. And if the way Daesung couldn’t keep his eyes off him—except when he was busy pawing at Seunghyun—is anything to go by, Seungri thinks they’re going to have excellent chemistry.

Who knows? He might even grow to tolerate Seunghyun too.

He throws back the rest of his drink and springs to his feet, his usual courage rushing back to him at the thought of what’s to come. Now it’s just a matter of surviving the wait.

 

 

-2-

 

 

Eight days later, Seungri wakes up late one morning to a message from Daesung in the Matchbox chat.

Today’s the day, followed by a street address. Come as soon as you can.

Seungri snaps awake. Daesung’s heat has started, and on a schedule Seungri can work with. He was starting to worry he’d have to call in sick if it decided to surprise them during the week. After all the build-up, the days spent compulsively checking his phone for updates and mornings lost to polishing his wood, he’s not missing this for another dreary day at the office.

On my way, he writes back. Starts to sit up but stops just long enough to add a heated cant wait to be inside u.

The reply is instant.

This is Seunghyun.

Oh shit. Seungri drops his phone to the bed and rolls with laughter, burying his face in the blanket. He guesses this means Daesung isn’t in any state to be talking to him. Or talking at all.

Under the stretchy fabric of his boxer-briefs his dick twitches, and that's all Seungri needs to fly out of bed, hobbling over to his closet in search of something to wear, anything, doesn’t matter what. It’s just going to come off again when he gets there. He gets his arms through the sleeves and head through the collar of a hot pink t-shirt with a smirking panda emblazoned across the back—one of a number of quirky souvenirs he picked up on a whim on last year's business trip to China. Next on the list is pants, where the hell are his pants? He needs to squeeze into a pair before his semi becomes a full-blown boner. He really doesn’t want to have to cram it in there.

At least he won’t be stuck taking public transit. Owning his own set of wheels certainly has its perks.

Come quick, his phone screen reads when he breezes by it on the way to the toilet.

Go ahead and start without me if u need to, he sends back. He almost hates to, but he doesn’t feel right asking them to wait on him. An omega in heat has needs. Needs that even if Daesung were to go a round or two with Seunghyun, will still be there by the time Seungri arrives. It’s not like he’ll be missing out on much in the twenty or so agonizing minutes it will take him to reach them.

...right?

His phone buzzes in his back pocket as he’s taking a painful leak, cursing at his cock for not cooperating with him. Fuck, it burns to piss when he’s half-hard like this.

Already did, Seunghyun tells him.

“Oh, fuck you dude,” he laughs, shaking twice and tucking away again. He wets his fingers in the sink and runs them through his hair a few times, runs a toothbrush through his mouth, spritzes his neck with a little Tom Ford, and then he’s stepping into his shoes and grabbing his keys and sprinting out the door.

A quick fifteen minutes later he’s face-to-face with another door, this one painted black and strangely imposing. Or maybe that’s just his own nerves getting the better of him.

“It’s showtime,” he says under his breath, knocking a few times, hard enough to be heard, soft enough not to startle. He wonders if Seunghyun is watching him through the peephole. This is always the most awkward part: waiting to be let in.

He doesn’t have to wait long before the door is swinging open to Seunghyun’s crazy hair, mint blue on a black backdrop, then he’s ushering Seungri through and forcing the door closed behind him almost before he’s even fully inside.

And Seungri doesn’t get the chance to complain about the door’s edge bumping his back on the way in because that’s when it hits him—the heatscent.

The heady scent of an omega in heat is... impossible to sum up in a few words, Seungri decides. Like love and lust, countless songs are sung about it, from the underground scene all the way up to the mainstream. What makes its way onto the radio is too romanticized for Seungri’s tastes, so as to be more palatable to the general public, but in its raw form, undiluted and true, it really just makes Seungri want to fuck. A lot. Hard and fast and, god, if he could, forever.

The house reeks of it already, but the scent is so strong on Seunghyun that Seungri is tempted to lean in a take a sniff just to make sure it isn’t coming from him. It clings to his clothes and skin like... well, like he’s been rolling in it. Which Seungri is quite certain he has been. One look at his mussed hair and rumpled cotton shirt and Seungri knows what he must have interrupted just now.

Given the option to stay in bed with Daesung, he’s surprised Seunghyun even answered the door.

“What?” he finally asks when he feels the weight of the other alpha’s leery gaze on him longer than he likes. He’s in the way, his tall, lanky form firmly planted between Seungri and where Seungri wants to be. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Now that you’ve had a chance to take it in,” Seunghyun says, bracing a hand against the wall and leaning in, towering over him, “What do you think? Are you going to behave yourself?”

“What? This isn’t my first time. We’ve been over this,” Seungri reminds him.

“It’s your first time with him.”

Seungri can’t help the laugh that escapes then; if he wasn’t so horny he might take a swing at him for implying that he has all the self-control of a caveman.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t keep it in my pants ‘til I’m given the go-ahead. It’s his heat, not my rut,” he says as nicely as he can manage—but his lip still curls, flashing a hint of teeth. He’s only human. “And what’s with you? You’re looking a little...” rough, he would say, if it wouldn’t get him thrown out. Whatever Seungri interrupted obviously wasn’t Seunghyun’s first time today.

Seunghyun does this funny thing with his body then. It’s like he wants to puff up in pride, but when he tries all he can manage to do is sag in exhaustion. As if the weight of everything hanging off his bones is too much for him to handle. He takes his hand off the wall, at least, for which Seungri is grateful; it feels like a small sign that he’s letting him in. No more posturing like an overprotective boyfriend trying to intimidate him.

“It started in the night. I woke up to him on top of me and haven’t really slept since. We’ve been through a few rounds already.” He scrubs a hand through his messy blue hair, blinking owlishly.

“A few?”

“I stopped keeping count.”

“Oh. I see.” His haggard appearance tells Seungri it’s been more than just a few. He can’t get it up; in fact, he looks like he might drop. Like any good bottom, Daesung has worn out his top. He tries not to smirk, he really tries. “So now you need me.”

“I don’t need you.”

“No,” Seungri says with a smirk, going in for a pity pat on the shoulder. “Daesung does.”

Seunghyun snarls, throwing his hand off with teeth bared.

Seungri puts his hands up, backs up a step. “I’m just playing. Thought you’d like that—you know, playing.”

He didn’t. In fact, he knew he would hate it. But he can’t resist a little friendly ribbing, there’s an omega nearby in the throes of his heat and the whole house is saturated with the smell of—well, it’s not so much a smell as it is a feeling, a full-body itch, the worst of it centered squarely between his legs. With Daesung’s pheromones soaking the air, circulating through him with every breath, his blood is up and Seungri is feeling feisty.

And having another alpha here to poke at isn’t helping. Sometimes Seungri likes a little friendly competition.

Seunghyun, apparently, does not.

“If this is your idea of foreplay, just so you know, it sucks,” the other alpha mutters, then turns and walks away, rounding a corner down a dark hallway. “But I’m not the one you need to win over. Follow me, Daesung is waiting.”

“Hey, Seunghyun, hold on.” Seungri stops him with a touch to his back, two fingers, firmly enough to get his attention but softly enough not to set him off. “I’m only here because you asked me to be, you know? Not trying to get between you two or anything... just trying to get off.” He retracts his hand, stuffs it in his pocket, accidentally bumps the head of his cock as he does. Calls on all his self-restraint not to do it again, on purpose this time. “We good?”

“...yeah, we’re fine,” Seunghyun eventually says. “Just make it good for him. Even though it’s an idea we’ve been playing with for a while now, it’s taken him a long time to work up the nerve to go through with it. And for me to be okay with it.” He gives Seungri a sober look that’s hard to take seriously under that toothpaste-colored mop he calls hair. “But Daesung needs it. So here you are.”

“Hey man, I’ve got it,” Seungri assures him, throwing his shoulders back and chin up. Seunghyun has a few inches on him, but what he lacks in height he can make up for in bravado; he’s not short on that. In fact, he’s bursting at the seams with it. Just like something else.

Seungri perks up with a new, exciting thought—and a somewhat dangerous one given Seunghyun's reservations about him.

“You two ever done double penetration? ‘Cause I’m thinking later, if you want, we could maybe—"

Seunghyun grabs him by the collar and pulls. “Come on.”

They stop before a closed door—to their shared bedroom, Seungri presumes. The last physical barrier between them.

Then he’s being grabbed by the arms and spun to the side until he’s staring straight into Seunghyun’s jet black eyes. The hall they’re in is dim, but even if it was better lit he doubts they'd be any lighter. An omega ensnared in his heat will blow an alpha’s pupils wide enough to swallow all the color in his eyes... and the intoxicating aroma of Daesung’s arousal is stronger here than ever.

“Okay, rules. Quick refresher,” Seunghyun says, sounding a little out of breath. Seungri shares in his excitement, feels his own fluttering pulse picking up speed to match.

He nods.

“No knotting. No marking—that means no scratching, sucking, or biting. He tells you to stop, you stop. I tell you to stop, you stop.” Seunghyun stuffs his hand down the pocket of his pants, and when it reemerges a familiar foil square is being waved just inches from Seungri’s nose. Seungri goes cross-eyed trying to focus on it. “And you’ve gotta wear one of these.”

“The whole time?” Seungri asks just to be contrary; there’s a healthy handful in his back pocket just in case. He always comes prepared.

“Yep,” Seunghyun says, and for a moment Seungri actually believes him. Until he cracks a wily grin. “No. Just while you’re inside.” And with that he tosses the packet at him. Seungri is juggling it like a circus clown when the door opens a crack, just enough for Seunghyun to fit his head through, and oh, fuck.

Seungri’s back hits the wall with a thunk, his head spinning at the sudden rush of omega scent.

Don’t move, don’t move, he tells himself with gritted teeth. Because if he does he might not stop moving, not until he’s shoving past Seunghyun to get at the source trapped just behind that door.

God, he smells fucking delicious. How the fuck is Seunghyun so calm? Have his years with Daesung desensitized him? Seungri can’t imagine ever getting used to this. His fingers twitch helplessly at his side, nails scraping the denim of his jeans to keep from rubbing one out right then and there.

“You doing okay in here?” he hears Seunghyun ask. “Can we come in?”

There’s the sound of someone rising from a bed—not the squeak of bedsprings, exactly, but the rustle of a tired body against sheets, a weight lifting from the mattress—and soft footsteps making their way near. With his senses heightened Seungri can feel his approach, how it seems to turn the air between them to honey, thick and irresistibly sweet.

A face appears in the narrow doorway. Damp blond hair falling in tangles over a flushed face.

“I could smell you out there. Both of you,” Daesung says, his dark eyes burning with a feverish light through the gaps in his hair. “What took you so long?”

You could smell us? ” Seunghyun says back, and Seungri can hear the smile in his breathless voice.

Daesung seems to draw back a little, suddenly self-conscious. “Is it that bad?”

“This guy right here,” Seunghyun jabs a thumb in Seungri’s direction, “is about to explode. Call me cruel, but maybe I liked making him wait a little.”

“But that meant making me wait too,” Daesung moans, and before he’s even done with the sound his mouth is sealed over Seunghyun’s, his hand hurling the door that separates them wide open. He takes a series of shuffling steps back, all ten fingers like teeth on the hinges of Seunghyun’s jaws, and really, Seunghyun never stood a chance—Seungri watches him disappear into the room like a swimmer in the ocean dragged underwater by a shark.

Every nerve ending in his body fizzing and cracking, Seungri follows him in.

However, when he finally gets his eyes on Daesung, kicking the door closed as an afterthought, he sees a lot less skin than he was hoping for.

“You’re wearing pants?” he blurts out, unable to mask his surprise and disappointment at the loose gray sweatpants riding low on Daesung’s hips, hiding from him the thing he most wanted to see. The wet sound Daesung’s full lips release into the room when he and Seunghyun come up for air is almost enough to make up for it.

“Not for long,” Daesung says, head falling back when Seunghyun hooks his thumbs under the waistband and nudges it down, revealing another inch of tantalizing skin.

Seungri watches intently, hoping he’ll keep going.

“You’re in heat. Why even bother?”

“Because I don’t know you? And I thought it was the appropriate thing to do?” Daesung bites back. “What, were you expecting me to answer the door with my dick out?”

“Wasn’t expecting you to answer the door at all,” Seungri says distractedly. To do so would have been just asking for trouble. Everyone knows an omega in heat should remain behind closed doors... for his own protection.

“Anything underneath?”

Daesung turns those blazing eyes on him. “What do you think?”

Seungri runs his tongue over the inside of his cheek in thought. The answer is evident in the outline of his cock through his pants. He just wanted to hear Daesung say it.

But Daesung isn’t done. “I’m easy when I’m like this, but I’m not that easy,” he sasses, those fiery eyes still anchored on Seungri, even as Seunghyun tries to reimmerse him in their kiss with both hands framing his face. “And if that’s what you’re used to then mmph—"

Before he can get another word out Seunghyun is pulling him back in with fingers tight around his chin, shutting him up with a kiss that’s as bottomless as the ocean. His other hand snakes down the back of Daesung’s sweats and crushes him close until their fronts are flush, startling a gasp out of them both.

And it occurs to Seungri then that watching them like this, lost in their own little world in which no one else exists, he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. He’s not sure he’s ever felt so suddenly out of place. Where does he put his hands? Should he take a seat on the bed? Will they let him join in on the fun or leave him out in the cold, the heat of Daesung’s perfect skin off-limits to him until he’s invited?

What if... what if Seunghyun isn’t done making him wait?

Control freak, he thinks secretly, starting toward the bed.

But he never makes it there because suddenly he’s being pulled back by the wrist, and Seunghyun is murmuring to Daesung, “close your eyes,” and aligning his face with Seungri’s, and Seungri doesn’t have time to admire Daesung’s long lashes or the swell of his nose or the shine on his kiss-reddened lips because in the next moment they’re up against his, soft and warm and wet and parting for him even without his asking, so, so willing.

So much for his worries about waiting.

He vaguely registers Seunghyun moving stealthily behind Daesung like some kind of tall, dark, and handsome shadow. Hears the wet, sucking sounds of lips on skin as he samples the back of his neck. Seungri adds some sounds of his own, suckling at the space between Daesung’s lips, drawing his tongue out so he can meet it with his, satisfied with the smacking that results. Daesung is all in at this point, kissing him like he kissed Seunghyun, like it doesn’t matter that they don’t know each other, that they’ve never touched, never so much as pecked each other shyly on the lips. So Seungri follows his lead and gets his hands deep in that wild hair, turns Daesung’s head into and out of the kiss as he pleases, angles him in whatever way suits his fancy, unabashedly giving himself the upper hand… and every time Daesung goes with it, giving in easily, even when Seungri is tipping him back and forcing him down, dominating him.

That is, as much as he can with Seunghyun still looming behind him. His kiss with Seungri soon turns sloppy and careless, his mouth falling open under his and not responding for long stretches of time, and glancing over his shoulder, Seungri sees why.

Seunghyun, eyes downturned, his arm working in a deliberate, steady rhythm, one Seungri is just now realizing Daesung has been rocking with for some time. Seungri knows what he’ll find if he takes a peek over his shoulder: the other alpha’s fingers buried inside.

Fuck. He bets he’s still wet and open from before.

His mouth waters at the thought of tasting his slick. Man or woman, Seungri can’t get enough of it, it drives him fucking wild. There are days he falls asleep with it on his mind, dreams of plunging his tongue in and lapping it all up until there’s no more... but there’s always more. As long as he plays Daesung’s body right, keeps him turned on and aching for it, there will always be more.

A pulse of white hot heat strikes his cock and nearly takes him to the floor. He’s forced to break the kiss, biting down on his lip to hold it in.

Damn. Now he’s the needy one.

But he doesn’t get Daesung’s lips back after that because they disappear without warning, relocating to the bulge at the front of Seungri’s jeans as he drops swiftly to his knees.

At least he’s not alone in his need.

Sending up a whispered thank you for the other man’s impatience, Seungri lets his hands crawl their way through his hair in encouragement, watches him mouth at his plumped-up cock through his pants, kissing his way over its shape almost reverently, showering him with wordless praise.

He swells even more under the attention, at the rush of power that courses through him at the sight.

Then someone else’s hands are in the way, fighting with his fly and forcing him to give up his grip on Daesung’s hair. Seunghyun’s hands. Daesung takes that as his cue to back off.

“It’s about fuckin’ time,” Seungri says, tearing his eyes away from him to leer at Seunghyun instead.

“Oh, were you waiting for permission?” Seunghyun gives his straining cock a friendly pat; Seungri’s hips jerk at the contact. “Good boy.”

“Don’t good boy me,” Seungri growls, taking matters into his own hands and tearing at his jeans himself, just to give his strangled dick some much-needed relief. He shucks them off in record time, losing his pants and his balance and falling right onto the bed.

Well, he thinks, pleasantly surprised. He was going to end up here eventually.

Daesung levels those hungry eyes on his cock, and Seungri nudges his hips up, inviting him to take a closer look, proud of what he’s got and more than happy to show it off. He’s as erect as erect gets, the leaking tip kissing his abs through his shirt. Fuck-awful place to be sporting a wet spot, but…

Worth it, he thinks, and blows him a kiss. Come and get it.

“My turn,” Daesung announces, and it’s a lot easier with sweatpants—they slide right off. Daesung leaves kicks them aside and advances on him, and Seungri wants to appreciate the bounce of his erect cock as he walks, the plumpness of his pecs, the shadows cast by his washboard abs—this guy works out—but he doesn’t get for long because Daesung is climbing on top of him and pushing their faces together, locking lips with him like they never stopped, picking up right where they left off.

“Oh—okay,” is all he manages when Daesung lines them up cock to cock and grinds with a purpose, and fuck, is Daesung trying to make him come? Seungri gets a hand between them, tight on his hip in a desperate bid to hold him at bay—because he’s dangerously close already. He’s standing on the edge of a precipice, Daesung’s whole body in motion atop him like he can’t contain himself, and with every thrust he’s urging Seungri one reluctant step closer until there’s nothing under him but air and—

No, no, no.

Yes .

“Oh fuck, fuck—"

When he comes to he’s on his back and Daesung is hovering over him, propped up on his arms, panting and red in the face—but there’s more than arousal behind his blush.

“Did you come? Already?”

It’s said with such disappointment that Seungri bypasses the afterglow entirely, going straight from satisfied to sorry.

“I...” He feels up and down his shirt, grimacing at the spots of cooling cum he encounters along the way. “I might need to borrow a shirt later,” is all he can say. He can’t bring himself to meet Daesung’s eyes; if there is one thing he can’t stand, it’s to disappoint.

And he just went and blew it. Literally.

Daesung scrubs a hand over his slick face. Sweat drips off his chin when he collapses back on Seungri’s thighs, looking confused and lost.

The bed dips with another person’s weight.

“Come here, you,” a now-naked Seunghyun says, slinging an arm around Daesung’s waist to pull him off Seungri and onto his lubed-up fingers. Daesung makes a soft sound as he sinks onto his lap, sagging against him in something like relief, but not quite.

“It’s not fingers I want,” Daesung says in a shrinking voice. “I want... I need...”

“I know,” Seunghyun shushes him softly. Daesung’s not crying yet, but his cock is. Seunghyun brings his other hand around, those long, elegant fingers of his a perfect fit under the head of his weeping cock. Seungri stares at the little line of pre-cum that dribbles out and wonders why Seunghyun doesn’t just finish him off like that, while he has him in his grip.

“Why don’t you just, you know.” He makes a pumping motion with his fist. “Won’t it help?”

Daesung tosses his head from side to side where it’s pillowed on Seunghyun’s shoulder. Seungri guesses that’s a no.

“Not when he’s in heat,” Seunghyun answers for him. Daesung makes a low, sad sound of agreement. “All that really matters,” he says, sliding three fingers in up to the knuckle, showing Seungri how ready he was for him, “is what’s going on down here.”

Right. Seungri knew that. It’s part of what drives an omega in heat to such great sexual heights: he needs something inside.

“Unnhh—fuck me,” Daesung all but sobs, shoving back onto his fingers and trying to force them where he wants them: deeper. “Please, please fuck me, either one of you, I don’t care who.”

“I would,” Seunghyun grunts, steadying him with an arm around his hips. “But you used me up already. See?” He cants his hips up, pressing into Daesung from behind. Seungri guesses he’s letting him feel his hardness… or lack thereof.

Daesung whimpers.

“When you get like this,” Seunghyun continues boldly, hooking his chin over Daesung’s shoulder, “you are insatiable. And that’s why we brought in reinforcements.” He spares Seungri a glance.

Goddamn, Seungri thinks with a fast-growing respect, from one alpha to another. At least he’s got the balls to own up to being so spent. And to recognize when someone else needs to be brought in to finish the job.

“I can go again,” he rushes to tell them, snapping upright where he sits and wishing his dick would do the same. Betrayed by his own body! “Just need a few minutes. Like ten or fifteen. If you can just... wait?” He hates to even say it.

“Thought you said you’d done this before,” Seunghyun teases, in surprisingly good spirits despite Seungri's fuck-up—possibly because of his fuck-up.

“Not recently enough, apparently,” Seungri grumbles. He normally has more stamina than this. He knew he should have pumped one out this morning to take the edge off. But he wanted to save it up for the big event.

“You had one job.”

“Oh fuck off, I’m not done yet!” Seungri laughs in spite of the shame. Strangely, Seunghyun’s good-natured teasing while he attends to Daesung seems to be helping. “Still got a few rounds in me, just gotta take a minute to reload.”

Seunghyun snorts. “So now it’s a gun.”

Seungri ignores that to play with his cock instead, feeling the first stirrings of life in it as his arousal slowly-but-surely picks up again. The sounds Seunghyun’s fingers make as they breach Daesung’s body again and again, and Daesung’s answering, throaty whines...

Come on, come on. Seungri huffs in frustration. He’s not a teenager anymore, none of them are, but it still sucks when your mind is ready for sex but your body isn’t quite there yet. How the fuck does Seunghyun deal?

Trust, he supposes. Forged through years of being there for each other.

“Don’t you have something we can use?” he tries.

“Something?”

“You know. Like, toys?”

Seunghyun hesitates.

“No?” Seungri swings his legs over the side of the bed to scan the room. The dresser with attached mirror—he sees himself in it—the bedside table, the closed door to their closet. Everywhere they might stash their playthings.

But Seunghyun’s giving him nothing to go by, and if the look on his face is any clue… they’ve got nothing to use anyway.

“Nothing? The fuck?” Seungri can’t believe it.

“We had one,” Daesung says, returning to them, “until Seunghyun dropped it out the car window on the highway.”

“Say what? ”

“Oh no.” Seunghyun tenses up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell him, please.”

“He was pointing it at a passing car,” Daesung goes ahead and tells him anyway, sounding like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Well, not a car, technically. Couple of tough guys in a big lifted truck.”

“They were definitely compensating for something,” Seunghyun mutters. Daesung groans in pain and pleasure—pain at the memory, pleasure at Seunghyun’s fingers still playing him with skill.

Seungri grins. He hasn’t known Seunghyun for long, but he seems like the type of guy to pick a fight with other men he deems below him by brandishing a dick at them—even if it’s only a fake one.

“And we just haven’t gotten around to getting another,” Daesung continues after a moment, “because every time I look at them now all I see is Seunghyun halfway out the window, holding this rubber cock up to his face like—” he forces the words out around a laugh, “—like a sniper looking down the barrel of his fucking gun.”

“A sniper would be looking into a scope,” Seunghyun points out seriously, though not too seriously to say it with smile. "If only you hadn't hit the brakes when you did. I wasn't done messing with them. Wanted to get a few more shots in."

"I had to! They looked like they were a second away from changing lanes and rolling over us." Daesung lets his head loll to the side, shooting Seungri a tired look, though there's love behind it. "What'd I tell you? He's a handful."

And it's all so unexpected and so absurd that for a moment Seungri forgets himself, joining Daesung in helpless laughter. Pot calling the kettle black, he wants to say. Daesung is pretty effectively proving to be a handful too.

His humor drops away when Seunghyun reaches over and makes a sudden grab for his dick. Seungri jumps when those warm, slippery fingers close around him and pull.

“Need some help?”

“No,” Seungri grunts, knocking the offending hand away. Feels good and all but he’s got this.

Finally, he’s up again—and as if he can sense his arousal, Daesung is too.

“Are you ready ye—oh,” Daesung says, climbing off Seunghyun’s lap and crawling his way to Seungri on hands and knees, eyes on just one thing. “You are.”

Seungri is ready alright—ready to let him have it. Cocked and loaded, he shifts onto his knees, offering himself up to Daesung’s touch, anticipating it. But Daesung stops and sits back on his folded legs—leans away, even, hands in the air between them.

“I’m not touching it,” he says. “Don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Seungri laughs. “Wow, rude.”

“Just...” Daesung turns around on the bed, twisting the sheets, spreading his legs without shame for Seungri as he shows him precisely where he wants him to be. “Put it in me, fuck me, please. I might die if you don’t.”

On his other side there’s a sharp laugh from Seunghyun.

“You won’t die.”

“You don’t know that,” Daesung retorts, stretching out sensuously before Seungri, giving himself over completely to his roaming eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Seungri isn’t too sure about that. Alphas have ruts, but he can’t say with any certainty how it compares. He’s heard that the urgency is the same; the fulfillment is not. Though he doesn’t often have to, Seungri can tough out his ruts without a partner if he must. But omegas are known for their intense need to have another person present for their heats. It’s why they have to be so careful about who they let close; once they’ve got you there, they’re not letting you go.

Seungri wouldn’t have it any other way.

“He’s right, you won’t die,” he says, smoothing hands over the globes of his ass, hard muscle wrapped in deceptively soft skin. And nestled between…

“But until your body gets what it needs... What it wants...” he hums, homing in on his hole, squeezed up tight despite Seunghyun’s rough handling earlier. He digs his thumbs in around his rim and is rewarded with a flash of pink. “What it craves...”

Yes,” Daesung breathes out, losing himself to tiny tremors that Seungri can only feel. "Please."

Seungri applies just a little pressure then, testing the give of his skin with light, cautious touches only because he knows how ready he is, how easily he’ll open for him if he gets careless, and he wants to play out here for a bit before he goes inside. Daesung clenches up at his touch, and a fat drop of slick slips out and slithers its way down, curving over and under his balls.

Daesung whimpers a complaint and sits back, trying to force him in, but Seungri’s reflexes are sharp; he’s pulling out of range before the pad of his thumb can sink in.

“Hey, you’ll be okay,” he promises, putting two fingers together and rubbing, up and down and up again, passing over Daesung’s fluttering hole almost leisurely, letting his slick smooth the way—there’s more than enough of it. “I’ll give you that little death you’ve been waiting for.”

Seunghyun rolls his eyes. “Do you use that line on all the guys?”

Seungri is too preoccupied with what’s under his hands to react to that, though he briefly considers at least tossing a glare Seunghyun’s way to let him know he’s been heard. Now that he’s finally got Daesung under him, dripping wet and shivering with every pass, he just can’t be bothered to rise to the bait.

“Okay,” he says, reaching for his cock with wet fingers. “I’m gonna go ahead and—”

Something small and light smacks him on the chest. He scoops it up off the sheets, knowing what it is before he even sees it.

“Oh yeah.”

Yeah,” Seunghyun says with emphasis.

Seungri isn’t even done rolling the condom down his length when Daesung is on him again, backing into him insistently.

“Damn, dude.” Seungri would laugh, but the way his cock slides perfectly between those slicked-up cheeks steals his breath away. “Sure you’re really ready?” He can’t resist. “Maybe you need to be warmed up a little more...”

“If I get any hotter I’m gonna burst into fuckin’ flames,” Daesung says, starting to sound a tad hysterical to Seungri’s ears. “I’m an omega in heat, I don’t need foreplay, I need you. Just—” he laughs madly, out of his mind with pent-up sexual frustration, “Just shove it in already, god.”

“But don’t actually shove it in,” Seunghyun interjects, looking like he wants to get between them. “Take it slow. Just at first, you know?”

“Nnnn—no,” Daesung groans, arm snaking out and pulling him to the head of the bed and out where he can’t interfere. “Fuck me, Seungri!”

Seunghyun catches Seungri’s eye, looking a little crazed himself. “Yes, do that. But carefully.”

Not carefully.”

Choking back laughter, Seunghyun cards a hand through his demanding boyfriend’s limp, sweaty hair. “He’s not normally like this.”

Seungri waves him off. “You’re a lucky guy.” Then he’s moving into position, fitting the rubbery tip of his cock snugly against Daesung’s tiny pucker. He can’t feel it as well through the condom but he knows how silky soft he is here, finds himself thinking about it as he nudges his hips forward and—it’s the easiest, most perfect thing in the world, watching himself as he goes effortlessly from being behind him to being inside him.

And for a time, that’s all there is, the slapping sounds and pungent smell of sex surrounding them, filling up the room like a fog until the only thing in focus for Seungri is Daesung’s impossible heat around his cock. Daesung falls surprisingly still—and even more surprisingly, quiet—while Seungri works behind him, works into him, hands flat against his lower back giving himself the leverage he needs to fuck Daesung like he wants. He catches Seunghyun smoothing a hand through the sheen of sweat on the back of Daesung’s neck, heading for his bowed head, just before his eyes slip shut, wanting to focus a little less on what he sees and a little more on what he feels.

When Daesung’s breathy cries pick up, so does Seungri. He can’t help it, not when Daesung is letting him know how good he’s doing, how perfect his cock fits and feels in him, little droplets of half-formed praise falling from his parted lips. It’s perfect, it’s everything he hoped for when he signed up for this, and he’s sure he could go on like this forever, chasing their shared pleasure, if only...

...if only Seunghyun would quit getting on his case. Too fast. Too slow. Not like that, like this. Not so hard; not hard enough! It’s making Seungri crazy.

His eyes fly open and he stops, balls deep in Daesung’s sublime heat. “Will you please chill the fuck out,” he says through gritted teeth, knocking the other alpha’s creeping hand aside for what feels like the hundredth time.

Seunghyun actually seems hurt. “Just trying to help.”

“Okay, but I know how to handle an omega.” Seungri fits himself flush against Daesung’s damp back, sinking in deeper than he knew he could. Rolling his hips in little teasing circles, barely leaving him, savoring the drag of his stiff cockhead over his soft insides... he knows what he’s capable of, what pleasure he can induce. “This is good, right?”

So good,” Daesung says in a wobbly voice, and Seungri fists the sheets at the way he writhes under him, clearly impatient to move things along.

“Can you come from just this?”

Daesung nods—or Seungri thinks that’s a nod, the way his head bobs just once.

“When I’m in heat. It doesn’t take much, just—oh fuck, yes,” he cries, widening his stance and going low, chest to the bed so Seungri can hover comfortably overhead. “Keep going, keep—ohh, like that, that's perfect.”

So Seungri does, hunched over his back and letting his hips fly, slamming into him good and hard, fast and unrelenting, done with drawing it out. It’s time to end this. Except...

There’s an appreciative hum from behind him.

“You ever taken a dick before?” A curious touch starts high on one ass cheek, a featherlight fingertip gliding over the curve of it and slowing to a stop on the back of his thigh, right where he’s most ticklish.

Seunghyun. When the fuck did he get back there?

“If you’re gonna sit back there and stare at my ass,” Seungri points at the head of the bed, “then I’m gonna need you to move, back to where I can see you.”

“Ain’t no fun,” Seunghyun grumbles, but to Seungri’s surprise, he complies.

But he doesn’t sit idly by. No, he sprawls out on the bed and curls a hand in the short hair at the base of Daesung’s head and wrenches him down into a sloppy, heated kiss, and Seungri would take a moment to enjoy the show if he wasn’t so invested in the view at this end of Daesung already.

Because it’s quite a sight, really. He uses his thumbs to spread him again, physically aching at the way Daesung takes him, his hole hugging his length down to the base… then the pop of color, Seungri’s cockhead a peek of ruby red in the split second before he plunges back in. The way Seungri sees it, his cock never looks better than when it’s sunk in someone else.

“God, you’re so...” he trails off, staring at his slick, marveling at how it wells up around his girth with every push, covering his cock in a fresh coat of gloss. “Do you always get this wet?”

But Daesung doesn’t seem to hear him, too caught-up in Seunghyun’s claiming kisses.

Seungri has an idea.

He expects a gasp of surprise or pleasure—or surprised pleasure—probably something soft and airy. Or maybe a low, lusty moan as he angles his ass back, begging for more. What he didn’t plan for was Daesung’s yelp, or for him to bolt away and whip around, landing on his ass and leaving Seungri cold, his tongue hanging out like a dog.

He pulls it back in. “What?”

“Did you just...” Daesung stares, seeming stuck on his mouth.

“Lick you? Yeah.” Seungri sticks his tongue out playfully. “You’re not into it?”

“You could have asked first,” Seunghyun grumps.

Without looking, Daesung’s tucks two fingers under his balls and between his legs, feeling over where Seungri’s tongue had just been. Seungri knows he’s found it when his breath hitches, the muscles in his thighs flexing.

“It’s not that,” he says, recovering from his shock. “We’ve just never done that before.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Seungri doesn’t mean to laugh. He looks to Seunghyun in disbelief. “You’ve never eaten this ass?”

“I—I’ve thought about it,” Seunghyun comes to his defense clumsily, even redder in the face than Daesung. His glances at Daesung in a panic. “Just haven’t gotten around to trying it yet.”

“I can give you some tips,” Seungri offers. He lets his tongue poke out from between his lips—just the tip, of course. Seunghyun glares at him, but Daesung... Daesung seems interested.

“God, I can’t believe it. How are you guys so vanilla?” Seungri palms his cock, wishing he could peel the condom off, skin to skin, but he isn’t done with Daesung yet. “Well, have no fear, the great Seungri is here to save your sex life.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you doing something with him that I haven’t yet,” Seunghyun grudgingly admits. Daesung touches a hand to his, and it’s so fucking cute Seungri thinks he just might combust.

At the soft touch, Seunghyun seems to notice something.

“You’re shaking.”

“Am I?” Daesung looks down at himself, a little dazed. Touches his cock almost like he’s afraid to. Releases it with a pained hiss. “I... really need to come. Soon.”

“But not like this,” Seunghyun says, reaching in and fondling the tip where he’s most sensitive—too sensitive, evidently. Daesung doubles over, the trail of hair low on his belly brushing his fist.

“No,” he says with surprising calm. “Not like this.”

Seungri takes that as his cue to step in and take center stage again. Gently, so as not to draw Seunghyun’s wrath, he lays Daesung on his back and lifts his legs, slipping between them. This time he doesn’t tease him or take his time. The orgasm he’s been promised is long overdue, but even that won’t be the end of it; if Daesung is like most omegas, he’ll be ready for round two before any of them.

And then it will start all over again.

Daesung seems to like it like that—flat on his back with his knees crushed in Seungri’s grip. Seungri likes it too—likes holding him wide open while he plows into him, and the scent of his heat is somehow more pronounced in this position. Not that Seungri needs any more encouragement. Seunghyun is there too, sweeping Daesung’s sweat-soaked bangs aside with one caring hand, while with the other he successfully strokes himself to full hardness.

Oh, hello, Seungri thinks, treating himself to a good, long look at this new cock. It’s about damn time he joined in on the fun.

But right now it’s still Seungri’s turn, Seungri’s task. He spears Daesung a few more times and that’s it for him. With a choked moan Daesung’s hands fly out, one curling in the sheets, the other searching for Seunghyun, and his back bows as gobs of cum run out the end of his cock in a pulsing white stream. It pools in his bellybutton, filling it up fast, and what doesn’t fit overflows, oozing down his side and onto the bed.

Seungri makes a mental note of the wet spot. The last thing he wants to do is forget where it is and later roll over onto a cold yogurt monster.

At the sight of so much fresh cum—and the smell, god—Seungri can’t hold back any longer, his body ready to blow, and then he’s pulling on Daesung’s raised legs and pressing in and holding one last time while he contracts around him, head falling forward and mouth falling open around a moan of profound, well-deserved bliss.

He slumps in satisfaction and drops Daesung’s legs to the bed unceremoniously so he can grasp himself at the base and pull out, making sure the now-filled condom comes out with him. No better way to get kicked out than to leave that unwanted guest inside.

And anyway, he may bitch and complain about it, but he’s habitually careful, even though he knows he’s clean. With omegas especially, he has to be. How uncomfortable would it be to unleash miniature versions of himself upon the earth prematurely? The world isn’t ready, and neither is he.

He collapses at Daesung’s side and flops onto his back, stealthily dropping the used condom over the side of the bed. He’ll dispose of it properly later when his limbs no longer feel like they’ve turned to jelly. He couldn’t move more than a few inches even if he wanted to.

God, that was good. And they sure made him work for it. But the obstacles along the way have only made the outcome taste that much sweeter, Seungri is realizing. Like something he earned. Another of life’s little victories.

“Better?” he hears Seunghyun ask, answered by a most contented mmhmm. He doesn’t have to look over at them to know they’re probably indulging in some postcoital cuddling... even if Seunghyun had very little to do with it. The mattress shifts a little under the three of them, and the well-known soundtrack of soft kisses, though perhaps a bit more loving than Seungri is used to, starts up in the background.

Couples, he thinks with a mild case of secondhand embarrassment. He leaves them to it.

The bed moves again, and when Seungri opens his eyes next it’s to Seunghyun, returned with a wet rag, wiping clean the mess of cum from Daesung’s stomach. His ministrations are surprisingly thorough and Daesung sucks in a sharp breath when the rag dips into his bellybutton, not missing those nooks and crannies. Must be ticklish.

Seungri allows himself a small smile, knowing they don’t see him right now. And as far as he’s concerned, that’s okay; aftercare can be a little awkward when it’s with someone you don’t have more-than-fuckbuddies feelings for.

As he rests there with eyes closed and mouth ajar, his breath finally slowing, his spent cock softening, the mattress bounces yet again, but more violently this time. Seungri bounces with it, too loose-limbed to be bothered by whatever those two are up to now—until a weight settles over his hips, hot, heavy, and solid, landing squarely on top of his soft, sensitive, unsuspecting cock.

He winces.

“That was fun. Let’s do it again?” Daesung says, wiggling into place so that Seungri’s cock is somewhat slotted between his still-wet cheeks—as much as it can be in its current flaccid state. So much for being thorough; Seunghyun obviously didn’t bother tidying up down there.

Again? Already? Seungri groans, and not in a good way.

“What’s wrong? Does someone need a little more time?” A big hand grabs at the meaty part of his thigh, squeezing almost punishingly hard. Seunghyun’s. Has to be. “Or are you all out of ammo?”

Seungri ignores him. “You’re not even hard,” he reminds Daesung, voice a borderline whine.

“Yeah, so? You’re the alpha here. That’s your job.” Daesung gyrates his hips expertly, heat and friction where Seungri is most susceptible, playing his body like they’ve been hooking up for years. Refractory period? What’s that? Seungri didn’t think it was possible to be at full mast again so fast but, well, there it is.

“But... Seunghyun...”

“Aw, he’s thinking of you,” Daesung says, twisting around atop Seungri to grin at his boyfriend. “Don’t worry, Seunghyun gets to play too. Because this time,” he purrs, and Seungri can’t believe his eyes when he spies Seunghyun moving into place behind him. “This time I’m taking you both.”

 

 

-3-

 

 

Seungri runs the roll of tape over the top of the box and down its edges, sealing it shut. Affixes a self-printed postage label to the top and covers that in tape too, just to be safe. He would hate for this to get lost in the mail. Or worse, end up back on his doorstep.

Since Seunghyun and Daesung don’t own any toys to help them through Daesung’s heats when Seunghyun can’t, and are apparently too damn lazy to acquire one themselves, Seungri has taken it upon himself to help them out. After the string of mind-blowing orgasms they gave him last week—the memory of which he still dreams about, waking up in the night so hard he could cut diamond—he’s decided it’s the least he can do.

So with Jiyong as his guide, he hopped online and bought them a dildo. Smooth silicone in a realistic flesh color and feel with some subtle veining for a touch of life. It’s a little longer than Seunghyun by Seungri’s best guess and was a bit on the expensive side, because Seungri never settles for less and he doesn’t think Daesung should either. It even has a suction cup on one end so he can play solo—and hands-free.

He’d been eyeing one with bright rainbow stripes, just to troll Seunghyun. The imagined look on his face when he unwraps it is enough to fill Seungri with wicked glee for days... until Jiyong talked him out of it. Told him that for first-timers, he’d be better off playing it safe.

And as usual, Seungri had to admit he was right. The whole point of this is for them to use it, not set it aside in the back of a sock drawer somewhere and forget about it, never to be seen again. In the end he listened to his friend and went with the boring option. When it comes to giving gifts—and he’s only got one shot at this—better safe than scorned.

And if he knows what’s good for him, Seunghyun better not drop this dildo out a window.

Inside the box he includes a note.

For your next heat. I hope it helps.

He just feels bad for them, is all. Daesung especially. When his own alpha can’t keep up with him in his time of need... well, it’s not like they’re going to call Seungri over every time. By the way Seunghyun hurried him out the door when they were done for the day, shoving a clean shirt into his arms but barely giving him time to pull it on, he doesn’t think he’ll be hearing from them again anytime soon.

He drops the box off at the post office, handing his package to the pretty young clerk behind the counter with a glowing, angelic smile.

A week later he finds the very same box waiting for him at his front door.

Damnit, he thinks, scooping it up and tucking it under one arm on his way in. Did he get the address wrong? He shuffles inside with it, drops it on his kitchen table with a sigh, looking it over in defeat. Same beaten-up box, different... label?

Wait, what?

He grabs a knife and rips into it, and under the layers of brown paper packaging he finds the silicone cock, as pristine as when he sent it, along with a new note in handwriting he doesn’t recognize.

Thanks for thinking of us, but we would rather have the real thing. That means you.

PS. Let us know when your next rut is, we’ll help you out. ;)

PPS. Seunghyun insists he doesn’t need your help, says it was just fun having you around. He's stubborn and won’t admit that he likes you. We both do.

- DS & SH

Seungri plops onto a chair, one hand clutching the note and the other pulling on his hair, giddy with renewed excitement. He thought they were done with him. He thought that was it. With a fancy dick in a box and a note wishing them the best, he thought he was giving the two of them a pretty great gift.

They gave him a better one.