Work Text:
Hyunjin is scrapping yet another one of his paintings when he realizes he’s not alone.
It can’t be Chan; it’s too early. And it’s too late to be any of their friends.
There’s an intruder in the house, and all Hyunjin has to defend himself with is a paintbrush.
Where’s your big, muscly boyfriend when you need him? Hyunjin inches towards the door, phone in one hand and paintbrush in the other. What are you gonna do, paint a portrait of whoever broke in?
They should’ve gotten bigger dogs; maybe Rottweilers, or German Shepherds. Berry and Kkami get scared of cockroaches.
Hyunjin’s blood runs cold. The dogs.
They’re not in the living room; neither are they in the kitchen. Which leaves the bedroom.
Which means whoever broke in is in there, too.
It’s always the dog who goes first in horror films. Rule of thumb. Hyunjin’s going to go apeshit if they’ve done anything to his babies. Paintbrush be damned, he’s going to kill the fucker with his bare hands-
Berry and Kkami are curled up peacefully on the bed. There’s dog fur on the sheets.
There’s a boy on the bed.
“Took you long enough,” the boy says dryly.
This is not intruder behavior. This is, actually, pretty much the opposite of intruder behavior. Not that Hyunjin is, like, an expert on the subject, but he’s pretty sure intruders do not generally sit cross-legged on beds petting dogs.
Also, like, he’s practically drowning in his sweater. You could probably fit, like, four of him in there. Intruders do not generally come with sweater paws.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hyunjin blurts, because that’s a pretty reasonable way to begin.
The Intruder straightens up. “Kim Seungmin, incubus, pleased to be at your service.”
“I’m sorry- what?” Hyunjin exclaims, because that’s a pretty reasonable way to continue.
“Incubus,” Seungmin says slowly, then adds, “Sex demon. You know. Spawn of Satan, hellion, manifestation of desire.” He narrows his eyes. “You don’t believe me.”
“Oh, well, excuse me,” Hyunjin snipes. Might as well indulge in the hallucination. “There’s a guy I’ve never seen before in my house and he’s telling me he’s a sex demon. Yep. Just your average Monday night.”
Seungmin cocks his head to a side, like a puppy might. It’s the same look on Berry or Kkami when they’re asking for head pats. Sex demon, my ass. “It’s Thursday.”
“That’s not the fucking issue!” Hyunjin stalks over. “Now get the fuck out of my house before I call the police.”
“Okay,” he says simply, and then he disappears.
Just. Poof. Here one minute, gone the next.
Hyunjin knuckles his eyes. There’s barely a dent on the bedspread.
“Do you believe me now?”
He wheels around. Seungmin’s right behind him, and he’s- well. Naked. Completely in the nude. Not a scrap of clothing preserving his modesty.
Hyunjin feels the heat creeping up his skin, and yeah, maybe he sees the whole sex demon thing a little more clearly now.
A lot more clearly.
Seungmin grins, and there’s definitely something devilish in that smile. He approaches Hyunjin, not unlike a lion stalking its prey- and isn’t that what Hyunjin is, technically?
The backs of his legs hit the mattress, and he finally finds his voice again. “H-hey, what are you doing?”
Seungmin halts, blinking innocently. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Like you’re going to eat me. And I don’t even know if that’s figurative or literal. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Seungmin says. “That’s why I’m here.”
Hyunjin frowns. “I don’t get it.”
Seungmin sighs, which is so unfair because? He’s not allowed to be exasperated? Not when Hyunjin’s the mere mortal in this situation? “When’s the last time you had sex with him?”
Hyunjin still doesn’t get it. Still, when a literal demon asks you a question, he supposes it’s not advisable to play coy. “Last week.”
Seungmin rolls his eyes. It’s still unfair. “Should’ve phrased it better. When’s the last time you enjoyed sex with him?”
“Fuck you,” Hyunjin snaps.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time he fucked you, you didn’t cum. Or the time before.” Hyunjin’s silence is enough of an answer. “It’s been a while since you’ve felt that spark, hasn’t it?”
What is this, Desperate Housewives?
“It used to be so different, didn’t it?” Seungmin’s inching closer again. Hyunjin’s got nowhere to go. He’s not sure if he wants to. “You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Remember the time he kept that vibrator inside him all day? He was stretched so good when you finally got inside him.”
Hyunjin remembers. Hyunjin remembers very well.
“Or when he wore that skirt for you.” Seungmin exhales, soft. Hyunjin feels his breath on his skin. “Pretty, wasn’t he, all pink-cheeked and shy? Who knew such a big boy could be so soft?”
Hyunjin’s back hits the mattress with a thud. Seungmin crawls over him, bare thighs on either side of Hyunjin’s hips. Seungmin smiles, and it’s the holiest picture of sin.
“Or when he fingered you in front of all your friends, and they never knew.” Seungmin’s ass, like, radiates heat. He’s hovering an inch or so above Hyunjin’s crotch, but he’s burning up. Hellfire, Hyunjin thinks stupidly. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
He closes the distance, and Hyunjin just about creams his pants then and there. Seungmin isn’t having it.
“Off,” he orders, tugging Hyunjin’s trousers. But he only lets Hyunjin pull them down to mid-thigh before he’s taking Hyunjin’s dick in his scorching hand. Hyunjin hisses, hips jerking up. “You’re big, aren’t you?”
He swings his legs over Hyunjin’s chest. His ass is right there.
Hyunjin, as established before, is a reasonable guy. He sees an opportunity, he takes it. He sees a pert ass in front of him, he buries his face in it.
Seungmin yelps at the first swipe of Hyunjin’s tongue across his rim. He tastes sweet; something like a vanilla, a hint of strawberry in there, too. “I could eat you out all day,” Hyunjin groans, pulling his cheeks apart further and lapping at Seungmin’s hole.
“That’s- that’s the goal,” Seungmin pants. He wiggles his butt, adjusting himself on Hyunjin’s face. Lets out the cutest little squeak when Hyunjin spanks him. “It’s self-lubricating.”
“Christ, you’re a wet dream,” Hyunjin breathes.
It’s his turn to yelp when Seungmin pinches his balls. His dick, however, jumps. Because of course it’s into that. “Not Christ,” Seungmin corrects. “Not him.”
Hyunjin’s about to retort, but all of that rushes out of his mind when Seungmin takes him in his mouth.
Seungmin really earned that sex demon title of his.
He sucks Hyunjin’s cock like he’s trying to suck all the life out of him- which, come to think of it, he probably is- but Hyunjin can’t bring himself to care, not when Seungmin’s tongue is doing that to his dick. It’s wet, and sloppy, and oh so good.
But Seungmin’s mouth isn’t the only one of his wonders, and Hyunjin remembers this a beat later, when Seungmin adjusts himself again and Hyunjin catches a whiff of vanilla.
Seungmin’s ass is just enough for a handful. Perky and sweet. The peach emoji. Hyunjin would die a happy man buried between those cheeks. He says as much, and Seungmin does a happy little wriggle in response.
His mouth is so hot- figuratively and literally. Hyunjin’s dick feels like it’s enveloped in a furnace. Add temperature play to his kink list. Right up there with eating out a demon.
Hyunjin wonders which circle of hell he’ll find Seungmin in. There’s no way he’s trying to get into heaven after he’s had a taste of demon ass.
Seungmin digs his tongue into the slit of Hyunjin’s cock, and it’s game over then. He cums so hard he blacks out.
When he comes to, he’s still on the bed, pants at his knees. His shirt’s all messed up and damp. His dick probably won’t ever get hard again.
He’s all alone in the room. Berry and Kkami, he remembers, and he desperately hopes the poor dogs were absent for their owner’s defilement.
That is… if it ever even happened in the first place. In his post-nut clarity, Hyunjin’s not too unsure he dreamed the whole thing up.
A lock clicks, and Hyunjin hears paws scrambling to the front door. “Babe?” Chan calls out, tired and oblivious. Hyunjin waits for the guilt that never comes. “I’m home.”
“In here,” Hyunjin calls, standing up and pulling up his pants. God. His poor dick. “Be there in a minute.”
Chan makes a noncommittal sound, and his footsteps fade away. Probably off to scavenge for food, before Hyunjin makes it to the kitchen and they’re forced to eat together. Hyunjin gives him a couple of minutes, and takes a few for himself to adjust himself in the mirror.
He doesn’t look too wrecked; combing a hand through his hair puts it back in his signature messy style. Smooth a hand down his shirt, and it’s as good as ironed.
Something sticky glistens at the corner of his lips, like liquid sugar. Hyunjin swipes his thumb across it and sticks it in his mouth.
It tastes like strawberries.
. . .
Chan’s been staring at the same spot on his computer screen for well over an hour when the knock comes at his door. His eyes dart to the tiny white lettering at the bottom of the display, frowning. Who’s here, at this time?
“Come in,” he says anyway, because if it’s a serial killer, he might as well get it over and done with.
The guy who enters doesn’t look like a serial killer. In fact, he looks like the furthest thing from a serial killer there is; huge sweater hanging off his skinny frame, barely the tips of his fingers visible from his sweater paws. He can’t be older than Jisung.
Chan’s frown deepens. “Who let you in? I’m afraid these aren’t office hours.” Witching hours, more like.
“I let myself in,” the boy declares.
Chan might have to rethink that serial killer assessment.
He tries to surreptitiously reach into his desk, get his hand on something that can be used as a weapon, but the closest thing to something that might cause damage is a stapler. Throw the CPU it is.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Chan has to ask.
The Serial Killer grins. “Kim Seungmin, incubus, pleased to be at your service.” He pauses, then adds, “Sex demon. You know. Spawn of Satan, hell-”
“I know what an incubus is,” Chan interrupts. “I just-”
“Don’t believe me, yeah, yeah- here we go again.” Seungmin sighs.
One second, he’s standing in front of Chan with the most exasperated look marring his face. The next, he’s on Chan’s desk, stark naked.
He spreads his arms. “Happy?”
And, Jesus, Chan has a boyfriend at home. One he hasn’t had good sex with in ages.
And Seungmin is. Well. He’s a sex demon, that’s for sure.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Seungmin spreads his legs, putting himself on display. He teases the tip of his pretty pink cock idly. Looks at Chan through hooded eyes. “You’ve fucked him here, huh? Over this desk, on that chair, against the wall over there.”
Chan’s dick stirs, against his better judgement.
“Didn’t he suck you off, once, right here?” Seungmin pulls his knees up, looking down under the table. Chan can’t tear his eyes off his glistening hole. The papers he’s sitting on are soaked through. “Called you ‘daddy’, didn’t he, when you fucked him after?”
Seungmin drops his legs. Crosses his feet at the ankles, demure. His tea-colored nipples are begging to be bitten.
“Shame he cut his hair. Bet it was real nice to pull on while he was inside you.” Seungmin pouts, as if he’s genuinely disappointed. “Bet he liked it, too.”
He uncrosses his ankles. Extends his foot until it’s pressing on Chan’s bulge, featherlight. Chan’s breath stutters.
“Oh,” he says, delighted. “You’re big, too.”
Chan grips the armrests so hard his knuckles go white. Seungmin smiles- then, in one swift moment, he’s in Chan’s lap.
“Off.” He tugs at Chan’s belt buckle, and Chan can’t get it off fast enough.
Seungmin scoots closer once Chan’s trousers and boxers are out of the way. His skin is hot to the touch. Something like molten lava dripping out of him.
“Self-lubrication,” he explains, like it’s not the hottest thing ever. “It’s way more convenient.”
It smells sugary sweet, and tastes like peaches and cream. Chan almost begs him to sit on his face.
Except Seungmin grinds down then, real slow, and it’s almost better than the real thing. Their cocks rub together, and despite the copious amounts of precum they’re both leaking (Seungmin’s is just as sweet), there’s a delicious friction that drives Chan crazy.
He braces his arms on the armrest, and thrusts up. The glide is slicker, now, sloppier. So damn wet.
“Fuck,” he gasps, throwing his head back. Sweat beads down his hair, his face, his neck. “Fucking hell.”
“Quite literally,” Seungmin replies, amused.
He’s rolling his hips down in small circles, and but for the deep flush to his skin, Chan would think him unaffected. Which just won’t do.
He grabs Seungmin’s narrow hips, pulling him down onto his cock. Seungmin whimpers, at last, hands scrabbling for the edge of the table. Chan doesn’t give him a break, rutting upwards and grinding their cocks together, until he feels his balls pulling tight.
“Fuck!” he shouts, and then he’s cumming the hardest he ever did in his life.
Good God.
Seungmin stands up on wobbly legs. He smiles down at Chan, like he didn’t nut all over him. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he says. There’s a small limp to his gait as he walks out the door.
Chan gives himself a minute, then five. Takes a deep breath, all the sex and sweat and peaches and cream. He’s not going to be able to get the smell of Seungmin out for days.
He’s not too sure he wants to.
. . .
Hyunjin waits for Chan on the sofa. First, he tucks his legs underneath himself, hands folded in his lap. Which feels like he’s in a cheap porno, so he kicks them onto the coffee table. Which is too casual when you’re about to tell your boyfriend about your infidelity.
“Which do you think is best, guys?” he asks the dogs. They look back, confused.
The lock clicks. Berry and Kkami skitter off his lap and to the door. Traitors.
“Hey, guys.” Chan crouches down in the doorway, letting the ankle-biters lick all over his face. He straightens up. “Hey, babe.” It’s markedly less enthusiastic than the way he’d greeted the dogs.
“Hey,” Hyunjin echoes. “We need to talk.”
Chan freezes. “We do?”
“You’ll probably want to sit down for this.” Hyunjin scoots away on the couch. Chan takes the seat, albeit hesitantly. “I had sex with someone else.”
From the corner of his eyes, he sees Chan’s shoulders droop. It’s not the response he’d anticipated.
“Oh,” says Chan. A minute passes. “So did I.”
That’s definitely not the response Hyunjin had anticipated. “Oh.”
“Yep.”
Hyunjin supposes it’s unconventional. Then again, nothing so far has been going according to script. Fuck the script, all his homies hate the script. “Is it someone I know?”
Chan looks down, at his hands. “No. How about you?”
“Nah.” A pause. “I think you’d like him, though.” He only realizes how awful that sounds after he says it.
Thankfully, Chan doesn’t seem to take it too hard. “I would?” he asks, the corner of his lips twitching up in that smirk that used to make Hyunjin go crazy. Still does, kinda. Chan’s still hot as ever; that much hasn’t changed.
“He’s cute as hell.” Quite literally, too. And, because Hyunjin loves to push his luck, “Practically a sex demon.”
Chan goes stiff. Slowly, finally, he looks over at Hyunjin. “A what?”
Something about the tone of his voice gives Hyunjin pause. “An incubus. Spawn of Satan, hellion, manifestation of desire. You know. The whole shebang.”
“Seungmin,” Chan says, and Hyunjin briefly considers if he’s entered the astral plane.
He’s pretty convinced of it, actually, when a familiar head of fluffy hair pokes out from the kitchen. “You called?” asks Seungmin; incubus, sex demon, Satanspawn. At your fucking service.
“Huh,” Hyunjin says, after considerable deliberation. “Is that like your only sweater, or?”
“He was in a different one when I saw him,” Chan says faintly.
“Fascinating.” Hyunjin appraises Seungmin, who’s stepped out into full view. “So, do you have, like, wardrobes in hell?”
“Closets,” Seungmin says, completely serious. “I have a matchbox apartment. The living situation leaves much to be desired.”
“You should unionize,” Chan suggests.
“Probably.” Seungmin produces a pomegranate from the front pocket of his hoodie. “Or I could keep on freeloading from you guys. You’re out of milk, by the way.”
“You could most certainly do that,” says Hyunjin.
“Thanks for letting us know,” says Chan.
Seungmin grins, and bites into the pomegranate. Juice dribbles down his chin, and Hyunjin’s dick gives an impressive kick in his pants.
It doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re hard, babe.”
“Very much so.” Seungmin rubs his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Huh.” Hyunjin reaches into his sweats and gets a hand around himself. His dick could cut through steel. “Well, would you look at that?”
The pomegranate rolls to the ground, and Hyunjin gets a lapful of naked sex demon in the blink of an eye. “I would very much like to look at it,” said sex demon announces.
And who’s Hyunjin to refuse?
Seungmin is as eager as ever, slender fingers wrapping around Hyunjin’s rock-hard cock like it’s the greatest treat ever. But wait, he’s not satisfied yet.
“You too,” Seungmin says. “I want both of you.”
No wonder Chan can’t turn him down.
He drops to his knees between them, a cock in each hand. His tongue darts out, and he laps at the precum beading on Chan’s dick before switching over to Hyunjin.
Chan’s got, like, a huge dick. This is an objective fact. It’s also, like, startlingly pretty. Perfect length to girth ratio. Lovely shading. Hyunjin should do a still life sometime.
It’s even prettier when Seungmin’s got a hand around it.
And what better time to let him know, right? So Hyunjin says, in all sincerity, “Your dick is gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Chan beams, dimples popping out. “I like yours, too.”
Hyunjin doesn’t know who leans in first, but all of a sudden he’s pressed up against Chan, kissing the fuck out of him. And Chan’s kissing the fuck out of him right back.
They break apart for air, and Hyunjin laps up the string of spit that connects his lips to Chan’s. It’s no vanilla and strawberries, but Hyunjin loves the taste of it all the same.
“Hey,” Chan says, looking down, and Hyunjin suddenly remembers the demon at their feet. “You think you can take both of us?”
What a stupid fucking question to ask a literal incubus. Seungmin narrows his eyes- and then he’s tipping his head back, jaw falling open a width jaws generally do not tend to open.
It’s so fucking hot.
Chan sighs once he’s fully seated in Seungmin’s mouth. Hyunjin gently guides his dick in next to his boyfriend’s, groaning at the wet, sticky warmth. “Fuck. You’re, like, unreal.”
“Yeah,” Chan breathes, eyes closed. “Fucking hell.”
Seungmin does a pleased little dance.
Hyunjin places a hand on the back of Seungmin’s head and thrusts in. There’s a thick glug, glug, glug sound every time he moves, and viscous fluid drips down the sides of Seungmin’s mouth. Add to that the heat of Chan’s cock next to his own, and, well. Fucking hell indeed.
“Your mouth is amazing,” Chan groans. “Look so good, stretched around both our cocks.”
Seungmin gurgles a response. More syrup leaks out of his mouth.
Hyunjin snaps his hips forward, cradling Seungmin’s head so he can’t move. Seungmin looks up through tear-matted lashes, a gorgeous flush high on his cheekbones. “Look at you. You’re drooling for us, aren’t you? So fucking hungry for cock.”
Chan groans again. “Cockslut.”
Hyunjin makes the mistake of looking down, then, and, fuck. Seungmin’s leaking all over the floor. “God.” Seungmin makes an angry little noise, and Hyunjin shuts him up with a particularly rough thrust. “Babe, look.”
Chan does. Chan visibly has to refrain from creaming himself. “He’s dripping for it.”
“Think you ought to give him what he needs, then,” Hyunjin suggests.
“Gladly.” Chan drops to his knees- and, get this, he actually slides a little in the mess Seungmin’s made- and Hyunjin’s brain is telling him it should be nasty as fuck, but his dick is super into it.
Chan doesn’t dawdle. There’s no need for it. Not when Seungmin’s practically got a neon sign pointing right at his ass.
He slides home in one go, and it’s, like, audible. The look on his face almost tips Hyunjin over the edge. Almost, because Seungmin’s throat clamps around him like a cock ring. Maybe incubi multitask as sex toys. This one’s certainly got the fleshlight part down to a T.
“How’s it feeling down there?” Hyunjin asks.
Chan is balls-deep in hell but he looks like he’s in heaven. “Demon ass is superb.” He enunciates this declaration with a little chef’s kiss at the end.
Seungmin moves, forward on Hyunjin’s cock and back on Chan’s, and vice versa. He takes it slow, languid; drags it out as long as he can.
Hyunjin meets his boyfriend’s eyes. They’ve never worked better together than when they’re fucking.
Chan steadies himself with his hands on Seungmin’s hips, and Hyunjin tangles his in Seungmin’s hair. Seungmin’s eyes go a little wide when he realizes what’s about to happen. He pushes back on Chan’s cock. Hollows his cheeks around Hyunjin’s. It’s as good of a ‘yes’ as they’re going to get.
Hyunjin snaps his hips forwards in one fluid motion, the same time Chan does. Seungmin doesn’t choke; Hyunjin guesses the sex demon equivalent is the sudden gush of syrup. He wonders, briefly, if it tastes like vanilla and strawberries, too.
Briefly, because Chan doesn’t let him dwell on it for too long with the way he’s fucking into Seungmin. His hips smack against Seungmin’s ass, a lewd squelch as they separate. Every thrust pushes him further onto Hyunjin’s cock, a feat made easier with all the slick on the floor. There’d be more friction if he’d been wearing rollerblades.
“Babe,” Chan gasps, a choked-off moan following right after. “Babe, you gotta get in here.”
“Yeah?” Hyunjin slows his movements to a lethargic roll. Looks down at Seungmin’s ass bobbing on Chan’s cock, and, yeah, he definitely needs to be a part of that. For, like, science.
He pulls out of Seungmin’s mouth, hissing at the cold air hitting his dick. Seungmin’s jaw snaps back into place, and he grins dopily at Hyunjin. And then Chan hits that angle, and his red, raw lips part in a moan.
More thick syrup dribbles down his chin, splattering onto his chest and snaking down, new rivers forging their way. Hyunjin leans forward and laps at the mess greedily. It’s sweet to the point of being saccharine, but he’s always had a sweet tooth.
Seungmin whimpers and whines, squirming when Hyunjin latches onto a nipple. He nibbles and sucks until it’s gone red, and then he gives the same treatment to the other one. Wonders if they’ll ooze the same slick, if he bites hard enough.
Chan, the good man, knows Hyunjin’s next move like only the most seasoned of players could. He hooks his hands under Seungmin’s knees, and pulls his legs up easily, so his hole- stuffed full of Chan’s thick cock- is on full display.
God. He’s, like, super fucking wet.
It’s just as sweet as the first time Hyunjin tried it; just as addictive. He runs his tongue along Seungmin’s stretched rim, occasionally making the detour to lap at Chan’s balls, etcetera. Chan shudders and gasps when he does so, but keeps going like the champ he is.
Hyunjin lets up only when his jaw begins to protest (given the fact that he does not, unfortunately, have possess the mandibular capabilities of a sex demon). Chan’s still holding Seungmin folded neatly in half, and Hyunjin guides his legs to bracket his shoulders, and pushes in.
Seungmin opens around him easily, but the squeeze is as tight and slow as ever. Chan’s cock is a line of fire next to his own.
And, well, shit. Chan was so fucking right. Demon ass is superb.
Once Hyunjin bottoms out, he lets out a deep breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. Nowhere in heaven would there be anything half as good as Seungmin’s ass. Angels are really missing out.
He says as much, and Seungmin giggles, smacking his chest. “You’re silly,” he proclaims, then lets his head fall back until it’s resting on Chan’s broad shoulder. “Now fuck me.”
And fuck him they do. They work out a rhythm, him and Chan; he pulls out when Chan goes in, and vice versa.
Pulling out is easier said than done, however. Seungmin’s ass doesn’t seem to want to let either of them go, sucking in their cocks greedily. You’d get less suction power with a hoover, Hyunjin reckons.
And he’d like to reiterate: it’s so fucking wet. Slick drips down the sides of Hyunjin’s dick, onto his balls- his thighs are slicker than an oil spill, and it’s a task to keep kneeling when his knees keep sliding out from under him.
And there’s Seungmin, making all these pretty fucking noises, the loveliest vision of sin there is. His voice gets progressively higher and higher in pitch, and he writhes in pleasure. It’s, like, super fucking hot.
And Hyunjin can’t stave off his orgasm any longer.
I see the light, he thinks, as his dick veritably explodes. No, wait, that’s hellfire.
His cum adds to the slipperiness of the floor, and not two seconds later, so does Chan’s. Seungmin’s ass milks them for all their worth. It’s the closest thing to nirvana Hyunjin’s hellbound self will feel.
“God,” Chan breathes. Seungmin makes a tired noise of protest.
Hyunjin grins. “Nah. Not him.”
. . .
Chan’s not a good man. He doesn’t fool himself into thinking he is. His soul’s been damned to hell for all eternity.
But maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.