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San's washing his face when his phone pings on the bathroom counter and he opens one eye to squint at the message preview. It's nothing urgent, just a YouTube link from Yeosang, probably to another concert fancam or a compilation of dogs doing cute things. It's definitely not something he needs to look at right away so he finishes his skincare routine and orders something from room service, getting comfortable in his big hotel bed before finally clicking on Yeosang's link.

The video is of Wooyoung. He's sitting in a room identical to the one San's in right now, one San knows is three doors down on the same floor of the same hotel. It must have been Wooyoung's turn to do a live tonight.

San watches the video for a couple minutes but, besides Wooyoung looking pretty as usual, it doesn't seem all that remarkable. He taps out a reply to Yeosang.

Why did you send me this?

The typing indicator pops up immediately, like Yeosang's been waiting for him to respond.

Did you watch from the timestamp I sent?

He did, but he hadn't really listened to anything Wooyoung was saying. So he clicks the link again, paying more attention to Wooyoung's words as the video starts playing.

Wooyoung is silent for the first two or three seconds, his gaze fixed as he reads the fan comments scrolling down the screen. And then his eyes widen just a fraction, enough for San to miss if he wasn't entirely focused on Wooyoung's face.

"San kissed Yeosang?" Wooyoung says, his voice pitched just a little higher than usual. At least until he tacks on a sarcastic wow a second later; the tone of his voice has San backing up the video to listen again, then a third time that gets interrupted by a new message from Yeosang.

Let me know when you see it

San takes a breath. It's not that he'd forgotten about kissing Yeosang during their encore a few hours ago. It just slipped to the back of his mind with Jongho's ankle injury and the whirlwind that followed, the rest of them struggling to both cover for Jongho and conceal their worry for him, trying to give Atiny the best show possible considering the circumstances.

And the kiss, as nice as it was, hadn't been intentional.

He'd been aiming for a peck on the cheek. But Yeosang turned his head at just the right second, San's lips bumping the corner of Yeosang's mouth instead.

Thinking about it again, San can easily, vividly remember how it felt, Yeosang's warm breath brushing his skin, the damp edges of Yeosang's lips against his own. He remembers the bright, flustered smile that lit up Yeosang's face immediately afterward, the way Yeosang pressed his hand to his cheek, not to wipe the kiss away, maybe even to keep it close.

The kiss had been an accident, but San can't say he didn't like it.

"Do you think he's upset?" he sends back to Yeosang, chewing his bottom lip against the guilt swelling in his chest as he waits for a reply.

A few seconds later there's a knock on the door. San's throat tightens as he looks up from his phone screen, his heart kicking into double time. It's probably Yeosang, but there's always a chance it's someone else. Like Wooyoung. And even though saying he didn't mean to kiss Yeosang like that isn't a lie, he's never not withered under one of Wooyoung's disappointed frowns.

His legs shake as gets out of bed and crosses the room, holding his breath as he leans in close to the door to see who's on the other side. He exhales a heavy sigh of relief when he finds Yeosang standing there.

Yeosang crowds into San's personal space the second San opens the door, forcing San backward into his room. "So you heard it too," he guesses in a high whisper as he turns to ease the door shut behind him.

"Hi," San says instead of replying, watching nervously as Yeosang bolts the door then engages the swing bar for good measure.

"Hi," Yeosang echoes once he's facing San. "So should we buy him flowers or food to apologize?" he asks, clearly anxious. "Or maybe both would be better. I don't know how to get flowers delivered here but I bet one of the staff does."

"Do you really think we need to apologize?" San ventures, eyes drawn to where Yeosang's worrying the bottom hem of his tank top.

"You're kidding," Yeosang answers, dead serious. "You heard that 'wow.' If we don't do something like right now he's going to refuse to talk to either of us unless he absolutely has to until we're back in Korea."

San swallows thickly. "But we didn't do anything wrong?"

"I didn't do anything wrong," Yeosang corrects. "But my lips were involved, so it's on me too."

"I was trying to kiss your cheek!" San says, barking an abrupt, incredulous laugh. "I do that all the time!"

"Well, you missed," Yeosang counters with a little tip of his head.

"You turned toward me!" San argues. "And you didn't seem to mind at the time."

"I didn't mind," Yeosang replies. "At least not until one of our traitorous fans went and tattled on us."

San laughs out loud. "Oh my god, listen to yourself! Blaming Atiny," he scolds, shaking his head.

Yeosang heaves a sigh, visibly deflating until his hunched shoulders fall back against San's door with a thud. "You're right," he admits wearily, sounding even more defeated when he adds, "He's going to be so mad at me."

"He's not going to be mad," San disagrees, reaching for one of Yeosang's hands to tug him away from the door. "And if he is for some reason he can be mad at me. I'm the one who kissed you, remember?"

Yeosang allows himself to be towed over to San's bed, his slippers scuffing against the hotel carpet as he goes."Yeah, but I liked it," Yeosang mutters, flopping onto the edge of San's mattress hard enough to bounce.

San can't help the way his heart flutters when his sits next to Yeosang, still holding his hand. "Yeah?" he asks shyly, his cheeks heating.

Yeosang turns his head to look at their hands resting between them on the bedspread, their fingers intwined. "Yeah," he admits softly without lifting his eyes. "I miss it."

San pulls in a deep breath through his nose. "I know."

Wooyoung never asked the two of them to stop doing things together. It just sort of happened over time, both of them separately coming to the realization that Wooyoung's jealousy lives a lot closer to the surface than either of theirs, that getting to kiss each other sometimes when the three of them are together is better than risking hurting Wooyoung's feelings.

"Me too," San says after a couple beats of tense silence. "That isn't why I kissed you on stage tonight or anything, but I miss it too."

Yeosang's fingers squeeze around San's. "I keep thinking about it," he admits with a nervous little laugh, finally looking up at San through his long eyelashes. "Like your breath on my cheek. How damp your lips were."

San gasps softly, his heartbeat thudding at the base of his throat. The fingers of his free hand itch to touch Yeosang's face and, after a breath of hesitation, he lets himself do it, his fingertips brushing gently over Yeosang's cheek. He trails them upward to trace the shell of Yeosang's ear before following the curve of Yeosang's jaw, Yeosang shuddering softly under the attention.

"San," Yeosang whispers, a plea, his lips parted enough for San to see the glistening enamel of his teeth.

San can't hold himself back, doesn't want to, shifting to brace his knee awkwardly against the edge of the mattress between Yeosang's thighs and ducking his head to press their mouths together, warm and wet. Yeosang tips his face upward instantly, tilting his chin as he licks past San's lips with a sweet, low moan, gripping one of San's biceps fiercely like he's afraid San's going to change his mind at any second.

When San finally eases back so they can catch their breath he does so carefully, dragging his kiss-swollen lips over Yeosang's cheek until he can press them up against Yeosang's ear, murmuring throatily, "Lay down, Sang-ah. Wanna feel you under me."

"Fuck," Yeosang groans, squeezing San's arm with enough force to bruise. He scoots hurriedly back into the middle of San's hotel mattress, kicking off his slippers and laying down on top of the rumpled bedding, his chest rising and falling like the tide during a storm.

San crawls over him, bracing himself on his hands and knees for a moment to look down at Yeosang's face, his eyes dark, lips ruddy and bee-stung. San lowers his hips slowly into the cradle of Yeosang's thighs, the heat of his burgeoning erection amplified when it comes into contact with Yeosang's. He props himself on one forearm so he can touch Yeosang's face again, brushing Yeosang's hair away from his temple to bare the pinkish skin of his birthmark.

Yeosang's eyes flutter closed when San strokes the pad of his thumb carefully over the mark, from the corner of Yeosang's eye to the wispy hairs in front of his ear. San presses a kiss to it next, slow and sweet, and Yeosang whimpers breathlessly beneath him, clutching at San's shoulders with both hands.

San drags the tip of his nose along the arch of Yeosang's cheekbone, sliding the sides of their noses together as he opens his eyes to meet Yeosang's gaze, Yeosang's face blurry from being so close. "Why did we stop doing this?" he asks, even though they both already know the answer.

"Because we're stupid," Yeosang replies with a rough laugh, lifting his chin to bump their lips together.

"So stupid," San agrees, sucking Yeosang's lower lip into his mouth. "We should do something about that."

"Mm," Yeosang hums, catching San's lip this time, biting down gently as his hands slip down San's back, tugging the fabric of his t-shirt upward. "Like get naked," he says when he breaks away, his voice a low, hungry rumble.

"God yes," San groans in reply, ducking his head as Yeosang pulls the neck of his shirt up over it. It takes some fumbling to get his arms out of the sleeves but it's worth it to get to feel Yeosang's hands on his skin, fingers grasping and nails scratching lightly as he arches up into kiss after kiss, his tongue seeking every centimeter of San's mouth it can reach.

It isn't that it's been more than a few weeks since the last time he had Yeosang's hands on him or that it feels any less amazing when it's all three of them together. There's just something about having Yeosang's attention focused entirely on him, about being able to dote on Yeosang more and make sure he knows how special he is. Both San and Yeosang spend time alone with Wooyoung individually, but though it's within the bounds of what the three of them agreed to relationship-wise, it's been a long, long time since the two of them have done something like this without Wooyoung there too.

The wandering of San's mind comes to an abrupt halt when Yeosang shoves his hands down the back of San's pants and underwear, gripping his bare ass. "More naked," Yeosang breathes into San's mouth, his fingertips pressing insistently into the muscle of San's buttocks.

San's head spins when he pushes himself to his knees, falling back onto his butt on the bed so he can flail his way out of the rest of his clothes. Yeosang's tank top is off when San looks back and the two of them make quick work of Yeosang's pants, leaving him in a pair of navy briefs that are just barely containing the swollen length of his dick. San cups his palm over the warm bulge, squeezing firmly and rubbing the pad of his thumb against the damp tip, wetness surging up beneath his touch as the sound of Yeosang's accompanying moan sends a shiver along his spine.

"Get down here," Yeosang whines, wrapping a hand around San's wrist and tugging.

San does what he's told, sliding his hand up over Yeosang's ribs as he bends over Yeosang's body, dropping his mouth to the edge of Yeosang's pectoral and sucking at the muscle. Yeosang gasps in response, his chest arching upward as he catches a handful of San's hair, the mattress shaking beneath them.

"Love how sensitive you are," San murmurs as he grazes his lips over Yeosang's skin, his tongue looping around a nipple.

"Fuck, oh my god," Yeosang cries out, breathless and sharp, his fingers pulling where they're wound in San's hair. "Your mouth, your mouth is so – oh – so good, so good."

San hums low in his throat as he purses his lips and sucks, scraping at the bud of Yeosang's nipple with his teeth. "Missed this," he breathes, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue. "Getting you all to myself."

Yeosang makes a sound like a broken sob, his free hand finding San's shoulder before sliding down to grip San's bicep. "San," he keens softly, fingers squeezing but not tugging, just holding on.

San trails his mouth upward, kissing along Yeosang's chest to the edge of his collarbone before straying to drag his tongue into the bare, smooth hollow of Yeosang's armpit. Yeosang whimpers, untangling his fingers from San's hair and lifting his arm above his head to give San better access. San takes full advantage, pressing kisses all over the sensitive flesh, sucking little love bites into the pale skin of Yeosang's tricep.

"Care-careful," Yeosang breathes, his fingers tensing around San's upper arm. "We still have a show tomorrow."

"Fine," San relents with a petulant whine, nuzzling into Yeosang's underarm. "Can't you just wear sleeves tomorrow or something?"

Yeosang laughs, releasing San's arm to pet the back of his hair. "But my arms are my best feature."

"Not true," San argues sweetly, lifting his head to meet Yeosang's eyes.

"No?" Yeosang replies, a blush rising to his cheeks. "What do you think it is then?"

San swallows as he shifts to rest on his hip at Yeosang's side, dragging his palm all the way down Yeosang's front from shoulder to thigh. "You have too many," he says, sliding his hand around Yeosang's waist. "Your arms are really great, but so are your legs and your abs and your ass."

He leans up closer, pressing a kiss to the point of Yeosang's chin as he skims his fingers along the waistband of Yeosang's briefs. "You have a pretty face and pretty eyes and a pretty voice," he murmurs, tracing the shape of Yeosang's cock through the cotton of his underwear. "And a pretty dick, but I don't want to share that with Atiny."

Yeosang releases a shaky moan, his eyelashes fluttering. "Me neither," he agrees thickly, the muscles in his abdomen tightening as he lifts himself into San's touch.

San flattens his palm and Yeosang grinds up against it immediately, his hand falling to fist the blankets. "It's been so long since I've had you to myself," San says, rubbing the heel of his hand into the root of Yeosang's dick. "I can't decide what I want to do."

"Do you have lube?" Yeosang asks, voice rough as he continues to rut against San's palm.

"I think so," San answers shakily, goosebumps rising on his arms. "Pretty sure I don't have any condoms, though."

"That's okay," Yeosang says, a mottled flush bleeding along the column of his throat as he blinks up into San's eyes. "Fuck, I just really want you in me," he admits in a breathless rush.

San's vision goes momentarily dark, heat rising to his cheeks. "I can finger you," he says, his voice muffled by the ringing in his ears. "Do you want me to finger you?"

"Yes," Yeosang answers with a jerky nod. "Yes, fuck, I want that. Please."

"Okay," San replies, ducking to kiss the corner of Yeosang's jaw before he stumbles out of bed, his legs shaking precariously as he hurries into the bathroom. His heart thumps heavily behind his ribs as he searches his toiletries case, digging through tubes of moisturizer and packs of makeup removal towelettes and bottles of haircare products until he just upends the whole thing into the basin of the sink with a clatter.

"You okay?" Yeosang calls from the other room.

"Yup," San answers, triumphantly plucking an unlabeled, nondescript bottle from the pile. "Sorry," he says on his way back across the room. "I have way too much skincare stuff."

"They keep giving it to us for free," Yeosang replies sympathetically, watching San from where he's still laid out in the middle of the bed, long and lean and now gloriously naked.

San climbs back onto the mattress, his throat going dry and butterflies fluttering to life in his stomach as he knee-walks along the bed until he's kneeling between Yeosang's splayed thighs. He sits back on his feet, snapping open the bottle in his hands and slicking up his fingers. Yeosang takes the bottle when he's done, setting it on the bedside table as San shifts into position, curling forward over one of Yeosang's legs to rest on his forearm, lightly trailing the fingers of his other hand down the underside of Yeosang's cock.

Yeosang's pelvis jolts, his knee bumping San's chest and startling a yelp out of him. "Fuck, sorry," Yeosang sputters, reaching up to curl his hand around the back of San's neck. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," San replies with a breathy laugh. "I probably should have warned you before I did that."

"No, it's okay," Yeosang's quick to assure, patting San's upper back. "I don't need warnings. I'm just really, you know. Worked up."

"Yeah, me too," San says, touching the base of Yeosang's dick with the side of his thumb before he follows the swell of Yeosang's balls downward, grazing Yeosang's taint with the tips of his fingers.

Yeosang bends his other knee, propping his foot against the mattress and tilting his hips upward. "Feels good," he admits, soft and shaky as he arches toward San's hand. "Feels so good, having all your attention on me."

San has to force himself to breathe, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I was thinking that too," he says, sliding his fingers into Yeosang's cleft, circling his fingertips around the pucker of Yeosang's hole. "Getting to focus on you, have your focus on me," he explains, watching Yeosang's expression shift as he eases the end of his index finger inside. "I like it way too much."

"Ooh," Yeosang keens softly, his head lolling to the side, tendons standing out along the side of his neck. "I like it with, with all three of us," he whispers, moaning brokenly when San slides his finger deeper, not stopping until it's fully buried. "But I like, I like this too. I really like it. I miss it."

San presses his face against Yeosang's shoulder, kissing the pale stretch of Yeosang's skin as he starts pumping his finger in and out of Yeosang's clenching body. "I didn't realize how much I missed this," he says. "How much I missed you like this."

"Thank you for kissing me," Yeosang whimpers, winding his fingers into San's hair. "Thank you for, for doing this."

"You don't have to thank me," San replies with a breathy laugh, slipping his finger free so he can line up two of them, working both past Yeosang's rim. "You're my boyfriend. I want to kiss you and touch you and put my fingers in you."

Yeosang groans, his hips rolling up as much as he's able, pinned under the curve of San's body. "God, Sannie," he whines, the hand in San's hair pulling into a fist. "Fuck, I want you."

"I'm right here," San murmurs, kissing Yeosang's shoulder again, his chest, peppering Yeosang's skin as he pushes his fingers deep, coaxing Yeosang open stroke by stroke.

"I want, I want you," Yeosang pants again, uncurling his fingers to clutch at the back of San's skull. "I want you up here, I want you on me."

San drives his fingers in as far as they'll go then nudges them a millimeter deeper, trembling as he lifts his head to meet Yeosang's eyes. He can't remember the last time he fucked Yeosang, the last time he had Yeosang underneath him, around him, and his whole body shivers at the thought, of being inside, of feeling Yeosang come. "God, I wish I could fuck you," he whimpers pathetically, drawing his fingers back, rubbing slickly over Yeosang's prostate as he goes.

Yeosang's chest arches up as he moans, his ass clenching around San's fingers. "You can," he gasps, his nipples drawn up hard and pink with pleasure. "Of course you can, why can't you?"

"I don't have condoms, remember?" San replies, throat tight and pulse racing. "Maybe I could get one. I bet Seonghwa has some."

"We don't need condoms," Yeosang says, tone somehow both sharp and breathless.

San's stomach flips at the thread of dominance in Yeosang's voice, the heated desperation. "You'll let me fuck you bare?"

"God, fuck, please," Yeosang answers, his nails digging into the skin at the back of San's neck. "I don't care if it's messy, I want you now," he whines thickly. "I want you right now, I don't want to wait. Please."

San's eyes roll back and he presses his eyelids shut, all the breath rushing out of him. "Fuck, Yeosang," he groans as he peels his eyes back open, burying his fingers in Yeosang again with a twist of his wrist. "Fuck, I want you too. I–"

Knock knock knock knock.

"Oh my god!" Yeosang yelps in surprise, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth.

San freezes, his pulse hammering in his ears as sudden panic squeezes his chest. "Fuck, how loud were we being?" he asks lowly, staring down into Yeosang's wide eyes.

Yeosang doesn't move his hand, answering only with a shake of his head.

San holds his breath. He has no idea who's knocking, but, unless someone's called in a noise complaint, it's almost certainly one of the other members.

Knock knock knock.

Yeosang slides his hand away from his mouth. "You have to answer it," he hisses, expression urgent.

"I'm naked!" San argues in a rough whisper.

"What if it's Wooyoung?"

"I'll tell him I was watching a movie with my headphones on."

"What if he goes to my room next?"

San heaves a long, hard sigh. "I'm your boyfriend as much as he is," he says, tone soft but serious as his eyes search Yeosang's. "We're allowed to do this without him. We all agreed to that."

Yeosang's lips curve into a gentle frown. "I know," he replies. "And I want to do this with you, but–"

Knock knock knock knock.

"Excuse me, sir?" an unfamiliar voice calls from the other side of the door. "Your room service is here."

Yeosang's expression sharpens into a scowl. "Room service?"

"Fuck," San groans, hanging his head. "I totally forgot I ordered food."

Yeosang closes his eyes, sighing softly. "Better go get it."

San looks down to where his fingers are enveloped by Yeosang's body, Yeosang's muscles clamped down around them. He knows Yeosang's right, but he can't help worrying that, once he moves, Yeosang will get up and get dressed, the moment between them irreparably shattered.

Knock knock.

"Sir?"

"Sannie," Yeosang says, drawing San's attention. His eyes flutter open as he slides his hand around the back of San's neck, tugging him gently downward so he can murmur, "Hurry and answer the door so we'll have something to eat after you fuck me."

San's brain turns momentarily to static, a warm shiver tingling down the full length of his spine. He swallows hard, turning to shout over his shoulder at the door ("Sorry, one minute!") before he looks back down at Yeosang, their gazes locking as he slowly drags his fingers free.

"You should probably get under the blankets or something," San says as he fumbles out of bed, grabbing his discarded pajama bottoms from the floor.

"What if I just, like, hide?" Yeosang asks, sitting up to watch as San struggles to pull on his pants.

"You can do whatever you want," San replies, stooping to collect his t-shirt and tug it hastily over his head. "But I think they have to bring the food in here, so whatever it is you better do it quick. Unless you're planning to give this guy a show."

"I'd rather save that for you," Yeosang says, winking at San as he crawls quickly off the end of the bed and ducks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

San bites his lip against the thrill it sends through him, trying not to think too much about either his sexy, naked boyfriend or his sticky fingers as he finally goes to answer the door.

Having room service delivered in a foreign country is always a bit of an awkward experience but this one is especially so. San silently hopes his flushed cheeks and messy hair aren't too obvious as he rocks from foot to foot anxiously, watching the hotel staff member unload the food he ordered from the cart one dish at a time, setting each item on the small table next to the wall. The situation goes from mildly uncomfortable to intensely humiliating a minute later when San's handed a laminated black folder with a receipt inside.

It's the bill. Which San has to sign. With his hand that's still sticky with lube, that he hasn't washed since he had his fingers up Yeosang's ass.

He has no choice but to sign the bill left-handed. The execution is ungainly and the result looks like something produced by a pre-schooler, but San manages to get it done quickly, thankfully sparing both him and the clearly nervous staff member any further embarrassment.

"So what'd you order?"

San screams wordlessly, voice shrill with shock as he whirls around to see Yeosang standing behind him in the bathroom doorway.

Yeosang giggles. "Did you forget I was in there?"

"No," San replies grumpily, his heart still racing. "That whole situation was just. Really stressful."

"Stressful?" Yeosang repeats, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk.

"Yes!" San insists. "I had to sign the check left-handed so I wouldn't have to touch his pen with the same hand I was just using to finger you."

Yeosang seals his lips together to stifle a snicker. "Then I probably shouldn't mention your shirt's inside out."

San tips his head to look at his own chest. "Oh my god," he wails, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of mortification that washes over him.

"He probably thought you had a girl in here," Yeosang says, tone gently teasing even as he pats San's shoulder supportively.

"Nope, not a girl," San replies petulantly. "Just a jerk who could be getting laid right now but is too busy making fun of me instead."

"I'm not making fun of you!" Yeosang protests, grabbing San by the elbows and pulling him close. "I'm just joking with you a little. To help you relax."

San presses his lower lip out in a pout. "You're being mean to me."

"I'm not," Yeosang argues softly, wrapping his arms around San's middle. "I'm sorry you had to sign the check with your left hand," he says, pressing a warm kiss to San's cheek. "And that I didn't tell you your shirt was inside out," he adds, kissing San's other cheek. "Will you still have sex with me? Please?"

San makes a show of maintaining his scowl for a few more seconds until he finally caves under the onslaught of Yeosang's fluttering eyelashes and pretty, dark eyes. "Ugh, okay," he relents, sliding his palms up Yeosang's naked back. "We can have sex now I guess."

Yeosang drops his hands to San's hips, his thumbs catching the waistband of San's pajama bottoms. "You guess?" he says, tugging San's pants down a couple centimeters.

"The whole room service thing kinda ruined the mood, didn't it?"

"Doesn't mean we can't get it back," Yeosang replies, squeezing his hands around San's waist. "Unless you're not into it anymore," he adds, tone more serious as he leans back to meet San's eyes.

San swallows. He doesn't think about it much anymore but there was a time, years ago, when it was just the two of them. They'd been hormonal teenagers screwing around back then, but San still remembers the thrill of their first kiss, the way his stomach tightened the first time he heard Yeosang moan his name.

The relationship he has with Yeosang and Wooyoung started out so tangled and complicated that he honestly has no idea how they managed to get where they are now with all their hearts intact. For a long time things were really fragile, all three of them terrified of tipping the balance and sending the whole thing toppling, very possibly bringing the entire group down with them.

The foundation is a lot stronger now thanks to years of fortifications built by communication and patience and understanding, shored up with love. And yet San and Yeosang continue to tread carefully around each other, like they're afraid the harmony they've created will collapse if they don't keep Wooyoung firmly in the middle.

"Sannie?"

"I was just thinking how much I love you," San blurts, the words startled right out of his heart.

Yeosang's breath catches. "Really?"

San nods, biting the insides of his cheeks. He's buried a lot of the uglier memories, the fighting and crying and sleepless nights the three of them endured while they were figuring things out, but he hasn't let himself forget the pain the thought of losing either of them caused him. He holds onto it on purpose, to remind him that, as hard as it can be sometimes, everything they do to stay together is worth it.

"I feel like I haven't said it as much lately."

Yeosang shakes his head. "You tell me you love me all the time."

"Not enough," San counters, taking hold of Yeosang's shoulders. "Not like this, just us."

A concerned crease forms between Yeosang's eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

"I love you, Sang-ah," San continues, ignoring Yeosang's question. "You're important to me, precious to me. You deserve to hear that more."

Yeosang looks stunned, his lips parted and big, fathomless eyes staring.

"I still want to have sex with you," San finally adds. "I just needed to say all that first."

Yeosang's fingers curl against San's hips, tugging San forward to mash their lips together in a heated, desperate kiss. "Fuck, I love you," Yeosang says roughly between kisses, wrapping his arms around San's back and holding him close. "I love you so much."

San cups Yeosang's jaw as he kisses back, shivering when Yeosang catches the waistband of his pajama bottoms and shoves them down his thighs, dropping them to pool around his ankles. He loses himself in the wet heat of Yeosang's mouth, the sound of Yeosang's low, rumbling moans, the warmth of Yeosang's fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking him back to full hardness.

They're both gasping when they break apart a minute later, their damp, swollen lips bumping as they they breathe into each other's mouths, clutching each other tightly and swaying on shaky legs.

"Take me to bed," Yeosang whispers, voice deep and reedy, and San's head swims with arousal, his scalp tingling.

San takes a step back, catching Yeosang by the hand and leading him across the room. He watches Yeosang climb onto the mattress before he reaches up to tug his shirt off over his head and crawls back into bed himself.

Straddling Yeosang's thighs, San grazes his fingertips over Yeosang's forehead, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes. "Do you need my fingers again?" he asks as he traces the curve of Yeosang's cheek with the tip of his middle finger

"Probably just a little," Yeosang replies, stroking his palms down the front of San's thighs from the creases of his hips to the caps of his knees.

San nods, ducking his head to press a kiss to the side of Yeosang's neck as he reaches over to the bedside table, retrieving the bottle of lube and opening the cap with a flick of his thumb. He continues to suck wet, open-mouthed kisses into Yeosang's skin as he blindly slicks up his fingers, snapping the bottle closed when he's done and dropping it to the mattress. He presses his lips to the center of Yeosang's throat one more time before he shifts, resting on his forearm and hip at Yeosang's side.

Yeosang opens his eyes, turning his head to meet San's gaze as he draws his knees upward, tilting his pelvis and spreading his thighs.

"You're fucking gorgeous," San breathes, taking in every lovely, pale centimeter of Yeosang's naked body, from his handsome face to his strong chest, his rigid abdomen to his lean, muscular legs.

"You don't have to compliment me," Yeosang says, cheeks flushing pink.

"I'm just saying what I think," San replies, circling the slippery tips of his fingers around the slightly swollen pucker of Yeosang's hole. "Do you not like hearing it?"

"I do like it," Yeosang answers, already a little breathless. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to say things like that."

"I want to say them," San says, nudging the ends of his first two fingers past the tense ring of muscle beneath them. "You deserve to hear how pretty and sexy you are, how much I like looking at you and touching you."

Yeosang gasps softly, his long lashes fluttering. "I like how you look at me," he murmurs, his eyes pressing momentarily closed when San starts to slide more deeply into him. "I like turning you on."

"You do it all the time, you know," San says, sinking his fingers in all the way then spreading them a little as he draws them back.

"You should tell me," Yeosang replies breathlessly, arching upward to get San back inside him. "Tell me when it happens."

"It's all the time," San replies with a rough laugh as he drives firmly into Yeosang, giving Yeosang exactly want he wants. "I just said that."

Yeosang moans, his body squeezing down around San's fingers. "You know what I mean," he says, voice tight. "Tell me so I can, so I can do something about it."

Warmth settles in both San's groin and chest simultaneously. "God, I want you to," he says, pumping in and out of Yeosang rhythmically now, smooth and deep. "I want you to do something about it."

"I'll do it right now," Yeosang replies thickly, fighting to keep his eyes open, his ass clenching with each thrust of San's fingers. "You should fuck me right now."

"Fuck, yeah, okay," San fumbles, slipping free quickly and carefully. His hands shake as he retrieves the lube, uncapping the bottle and drizzling some of its slick contents into his palm. He draws a soft, sharp breath as Yeosang reaches out to take the bottle from him, their eyes locking for a heated second before San turns his attention back to the task at hand, wrapping his fingers around his own erection and spreading lube along the length with three or four twisting strokes.

Once he's done he looks around for somewhere to wipe the excess but comes up empty; all of his and Yeosang's discarded clothes are on the floor and wiping it on the hotel comforter feels both rude and gross.

Thankfully Yeosang must be able to sense his dilemma, sitting up and leaning over the side of the bed to snag the t-shirt San dropped there earlier. He grunts as he pulls himself fully back into bed, offering San the balled up fabric.

"Thanks," San says, wiping his hand.

"No problem," Yeosang replies, settling onto his back. He keeps his eyes locked on San's as he pulls his knees in close to his chest, dropping his legs wide.

San can't help the way his gaze is drawn to the space between Yeosang's thighs, his cock flushed and hard, the ring of his asshole stretched and pink and shiny with lube. The impulse to touch is too strong to ignore and San reaches out, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the loosened pucker, Yeosang gasping when San dips the tip of his thumb inside.

"San-ah, please," Yeosang begs lowly, winding his fingers around San's wrist. "I feel like I've been waiting for you forever."

"I'm sorry," San says, slipping his thumb free and leaning forward to brace himself on one arm, bridging Yeosang's body. "No more waiting, I promise," he adds softly, looking into Yeosang's eyes as he reaches between his legs to take his dick in hand, angling it downward. He breaks eye contact just long enough to line himself up, finding Yeosang's gaze again as soon as the head of his cock pops past Yeosang's rim.

"Oh god, yes," Yeosang keens as San slides into him, dark eyes blinking up at San, staring right into him. "Fuck, so good," he whimpers, mouth slack. "Feels so good, you feel so good."

San shivers, planting both hands at Yeosang's sides and bracing his knees against the bed as he curves more tightly over Yeosang's torso. The shift causes San's pelvis to tilt, driving his cock another centimeter into Yeosang's clenching heat and making him moan, sudden and loud.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," San murmurs, rocking his hips with more purpose, watching the way each little thrust makes pleasure flicker across Yeosang's face. "You're beautiful and sexy and I love you so much."

"Love you," Yeosang echoes thickly, lifting his hands to grip San's upper arms. "Really, really love you."

Warmth floods San's chest, his face, and he bends down to brush butterfly kisses to Yeosang's flushed throat. "God, I missed this," he whispers against Yeosang's skin, the tip of his nose bumping Yeosang's jaw as he bucks into Yeosang with a little more force. "Can't, can't believe we stopped."

"Never again," Yeosang says breathlessly, tipping his head in an attempt to kiss San's mouth, his lips landing on San's philtrum instead. "I never want to stop."

"We won't," San promises, pulling back enough to align their lips, kissing Yeosang slowly, wetly. He keeps their mouths close as he snaps his hips forward, plunging inside just hard enough to knock the air from Yeosang's lungs in little huffs.

Yeosang's hands slip higher on San's arms, his fingers gripping tightly as he holds his pelvis tilted upward at the perfect angle for San to drive down into him. "No, no one has ever, has ever fucked me the way you do," he says brokenly. "I don't know, I don't know what it is, but it's so, it's so good. How your cock moves, moves in me. How you kiss me, fuck."

San can tell by the raspiness of Yeosang's voice and the way Yeosang's ass clenches around him that Yeosang's seconds away from finding his end. "Are you close?" San asks lowly, kissing Yeosang's upper lip. "Do you want to come first?"

Yeosang nods, his eyelashes fluttering as he fights to keep his eyes on San's face, the gusts of his panting breaths warm against San's skin.

San kisses the end of Yeosang's chin. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Swallowing, Yeosang shakes his head. "Just, just keep, like, like you are, right now," he answers, halting and breathless.

"Like this?" San asks, thrusting into Yeosang over and over, firm and smooth.

Yeosang's expression is urgent as he nods again, breathing heavy and ragged. "Every, every time you, every time you fill me up," he pants, his fingers bruising as they clutch at San's arms. "So, so close. Almost, almost there. Almost there."

Yeosang's high, desperate voice, his wide, dark eyes, his parted, red lips, it all sends endless jolts of arousal straight down San's spine. "Fuck, wanna feel it," he grunts, dropping his forehead to rest against Yeosang's shoulder, focusing on fucking his cock evenly into Yeosang's steadily tightening hole. "Wanna feel you come," he whispers harshly. "Wanna feel you come with me inside you."

Yeosang whimpers wetly, his body shuddering, wound up tight. "Right there, oh god, Sannie, right there, right there," he whines, his words hot and humid against the side of San's neck.

Even knowing it's coming the intensity of Yeosang's orgasm takes San by surprise, his ass squeezing down around San's cock tightly enough to wring a sob from San's lips. Yeosang's teeth scrape over San's skin as he buries his face in the curve of San's neck, his hands gripping San's arms so hard it hurts.

San's thrusts lose all sense of rhythm, his movements driven entirely by instinct as he frantically chases his own release, bucking gracelessly into Yeosang's slick, clenching insides until the dam finally, blessedly bursts. He muffles a shout against Yeosang's shoulder as he spills himself in throbbing pulses, shoved so deep inside Yeosang's perfect, welcoming heat his thighs and butt and abs ache with the effort of holding himself in place.

Yeosang shifts beneath San's sagging weight, relaxing his legs to rest heavily against San's thighs and sliding his arms up around San's shoulders. "I love you," he whispers throatily, squeezing San briefly in an embrace, pressing a warm, damp kiss to the side of San's neck. "You're amazing."

"You're amazing," San argues weakly, nuzzling Yeosang's shoulder as the tension in his muscles begins to unwind. "I had no idea you could come like that."

Yeosang exhales a sigh that sounds almost like a laugh. "This is only the second time it's happened."

San turns his head to rest his cheek against Yeosang's pillow, his eyes landing on Yeosang's birthmark. "Wooyoung?"

Yeosang nods softly. "The first time he fucked me," he says.

San stretches his neck so he can kiss Yeosang's temple. "But not again until now?"

"No," Yeosang answers, his hands sliding down into the hollow of San's lower back. "I think it's, like. Emotional."

San shifts back as much as he can in an attempt to see Yeosang's expression, his softened cock slipping out of Yeosang in the process. "What do you mean?"

"Well, like," Yeosang starts, tipping his head toward San. "By the time Wooyoung and I finally had sex we'd been through so much turmoil, with our friendship and you and everything, and it was just, like, an explosion of feelings."

He takes a breath, dragging his palms back up to San's shoulders. "Tonight was kind of the same thing, I guess."

"An explosion of feelings?"

"Yeah," Yeosang replies. "I didn't really mean for this to happen."

Something painful twists in San's chest. "For us to have sex?"

"For us to stop having sex," Yeosang corrects. "Like this, just us. There was a point around the time everything was happening with Mingi that I consciously put some distance between us, but I only meant for it to last a few weeks."

A weird heaviness grows in San's stomach and he shifts to get his forearms underneath himself, lifting up to more fully meet Yeosang's eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Yeosang's mouth curves into a pained frown. "Everyone was so stressed out," he answers. "We were worried about Mingi, and COVID, and trying to promote and do Kingdom at the same time. No one was sleeping very much and one of those nights we were all up until dawn practicing I laid down with my head in your lap and just completely passed out."

"I remember that," San interjects. "You drooled all over my pants."

Yeosang cringes sympathetically. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," San replies. "You're cute when you sleep, so I wasn't that upset about it."

A smile flickers across Yeosang's face at the compliment before his expression sobers once again. "Anyway when we finally got home Wooyoung was really bitchy with me about it, something about you and me being all couple-y around everyone else, I don't really remember. We got into this huge fight, about you and me and him and Changbin and a bunch of other stupid shit, probably because we were both so tired. It was so bad Jongho ended up sleeping in Mingi's room."

"Why didn't either of you ever tell me about this?" San asks, swallowing past a pang of hurt.

"Because it was stupid," Yeosang answers. "We both realized we took it too far and apologized to each other the next morning. But the way he acted reminded me so much of how he used to get really nasty with us when he was jealous back at the beginning. I was worried it would get worse and I thought maybe if we put some space between us for a little while Wooyoung would calm down and things could go back to normal."

"I think I picked up on what you were doing," San says once he's had a moment to process. "I mean I guess I didn't really notice until things slowed down a little, but somehow I always knew it was about us trying to not make Wooyoung jealous."

"I really did think things would just go back the way they were before once we had a little more time to breathe," Yeosang says, tone regretful. "After we started cuddling and holding hands again, and everything was good when it was the three of us together. But then there just seemed to be this thing stopping you and me from going any further."

"I felt that too," San replies, searching Yeosang's gentle eyes. "I probably should have mentioned it before it went on so long."

"Me too," Yeosang says. "Instead I've just kind of been pining for you. Missing you." He pauses to breathe a sigh, his hands moving to cup the sides of San's neck. "Being with you like this tonight is a little overwhelming."

San can feel his own heartbeat thrumming beneath Yeosang's palms. "In a good way?"

"The best way," Yeosang replies. "That's why I came without you touching me, I think."

"That was really hot," San says, watching Yeosang's eyes, "but I'm definitely not interested in going another year without fucking you to make it happen again."

"Yeah, me neither," Yeosang agrees, smoothing his hands along the planes of San's shoulders.

"I wonder if there's any other way to do it," San muses, ducking his head to kiss the side of Yeosang's neck.

"Not sure," Yeosang replies, running his fingers through San's hair. "Wooyoung's tried a couple times."

"Maybe if we tried together," San suggests, planting soft kisses along the line of Yeosang's throat. "If we both focused on you."

Yeosang gasps lightly, squeezing the back of San's neck. "Can't say I'd mind you trying."

"Mm," San hums, kissing along Yeosang's collarbone to his shoulder. "I'll bring it up with Wooyoung."

Yeosang catches the hair at San's nape in a loose fist. "Are you going to tell him about what we did together tonight?"

San lifts his head. "Do you not want me to?"

"I don't know," Yeosang replies. "Maybe not until we get home. Just in case he gets upset."

"Okay," San agrees with a nod. "When we get home we can both– shit."

"What? What's wrong?" Yeosang asks, tone alarmed.

San shifts his weight to free his right arm, brushing his thumb over the mark purpling on the pale skin of Yeosang's shoulder. "Fuck, I must have bitten you."

Yeosang angles his head to inspect the damage himself. "Shit," he echoes, prodding at the bruise with his fingertips. "Do you think my tank top will cover it?"

"Probably?" San answers hopefully. "We might want to put some ice on it, though. Just in case."

"There's no way Wooyoung isn't going to see this backstage," Yeosang frets, flattening his hand over the mark.

"Just don't take your shirt off when he's watching," San suggests.

Yeosang gives him a look. "How the fuck am I supposed to manage that during the quick changes?"

"I can distract him?" San offers weakly.

Yeosang heaves a dramatic sigh. "Do you think he'd believe me if I said I fell out of bed and hit my shoulder on the side table?"

"So what if he notices?" San blurts.

Yeosang's mouth drops open in shock. "What do you mean 'so what?'" he says. "If he sees I have a hickey he'll know we were messing around without him."

"But we're allowed to do that," San argues. "We used to do it all the time. Just because this is the first time in a while doesn't mean we're doing anything wrong."

"Did you forget the look on his face when Atiny told him you kissed me?" Yeosang counters. "If he sees this tomorrow we're going to have to deal with him being cranky with us the whole rest of this trip."

San groans in frustration, dropping his face into the pillow next to Yeosang's head. "What if I don't care?" he whines, voice muffled. "I just got to have really good sex with one of my boyfriends for the first time in like forever," he goes on, tipping his head enough for Yeosang to hear him. "I don't want to feel guilty about it. I refuse."

Yeosang sighs again, his eyes slipping closed. "I don't want to feel guilty about it either," he mutters. "Why did we have to fall in love with the most jealous person alive?"

"We're all jealous," San replies, tucking his face close to Yeosang's neck. "This entire group."

"That's true," Yeosang concedes, stroking his fingers through San's hair. "But Wooyoung is the worst."

San's lips brush Yeosang's warm skin as he laughs. "Wooyoung is definitely the worst."

//

Yeosang's hickey, thanks to a liberal application of ice the night before and makeup the morning of, is barely noticeable in the greenroom before the concert. San's pretty sure the only reason he can see it at all himself is because he knows it's there.

More importantly, Wooyoung seems totally relaxed aside from the usual pre-show jitters, which means he hasn't seen it. The group gets through their first stage and quick change without incident, everyone in good spirits including Jongho, despite the obvious pain his injured ankle's causing him. Assuming nothing catastrophic happens, San has a good feeling the rest of the show will be smooth sailing

In hindsight he probably should've known better than to let his guard down so easily.

San's more than used to the Déjà Vu choreography and all the variations Wooyoung has applied to it over the span of their performances. Sometimes Wooyoung will just yank San around by the lapel of his jacket, sometimes he'll cup the back of San's neck and duck his face close to San's throat. And sometimes, when he's feeling particularly brazen, he'll lean all the way in to bump his lips against San's skin.

Tonight is one of those nights. But this time it isn't because Wooyoung is toeing the line of what he can get away with on stage.

Wooyoung is unusually gentle in the way he tugs San toward him, but the tenderness ends there, his other hand clamping down tightly on San's shoulder as he holds San in place. And when he mashes his mouth against San's neck it's not just his lips or even his tongue that makes contact with San's skin.

Tonight there are teeth, sharp and dangerous as they scrape against San's corded tendons. A declaration: I know what you did. A warning: just wait until I get you alone later.

San worries the incident will make things tense during their next quick change, but when they get backstage Wooyoung isn't acting any differently. He doesn't even shoot any pointed glares San's direction or make any attempts to get close enough to San to whisper ominous threats.

San isn't sure if the absence of overt jealousy from Wooyoung makes him feel more or less nervous. It does put him on edge, but he has a concert to perform so he tries his best to shove any Wooyoung related anxiety to the back of his mind.

He plans to mention the whole biting situation to Yeosang as soon as he has a chance, but he gets so distracted by everything that happens during the second half of the show – performing and fretting over Jongho and comforting Seonghwa when he starts crying during his ending ment – he just completely forgets. At least until he gets out of the shower a few hours later and finds a KKT message from Wooyoung waiting for him.

Come to my room?

It sounds like a request but San knows it's absolutely a demand. Meaning while he could ignore it, Wooyoung will make things very, very unpleasant for him if he does.

Taking a deep breath, San sends a quick reply to Wooyoung to let him know he's on his way then types out a warning message to Yeosang ('Pretty sure Woo knows what we did last night. Going to his room right now, I'll let you know how it goes.') before sliding into his slippers, grabbing his room key, and heading out into the hall.

Once he's standing outside Wooyoung's door he quickly checks his phone, but so far Yeosang hasn't even read his message. Tucking his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, he lifts his hand and knocks, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of having to face one of Wooyoung's more turbulent moods.

"Sannie!" Wooyoung greets San with a grin as he opens the door. "You didn't even dry your hair," he comments, reaching up to tousle the wet strands.

Wooyoung's cheerful tone, considering the way he bit San's neck earlier, is extremely suspicious. "I wanted to let it air dry," he replies, stopping in his tracks two steps into the room when he locks eyes with Yeosang who's sitting wide-eyed on the edge of Wooyoung's bed.

Wooyoung's gaze is a little haughty when he casts a brief glance at San before turning his attention to Yeosang. "Now that you're here, I have a question for you," he says, clearly addressing San even as he crosses to where Yeosang's perched, rigidly still.

"What's your question?" San asks, watching Yeosang's face as Wooyoung stares down at him with dark intensity.

Wooyoung tilts his head to look back at San over his shoulder. "What's this?" he says, focus returning to Yeosang as he reaches down to tug the neck of his t-shirt aside, baring Yeosang's upper chest and with it the hickey San left there last night, shockingly brownish-red against Yeosang's pale skin, makeup long since washed away.

San's mouth drops open; some part of him expected Wooyoung to confront him about Yeosang, but apparently not like this. "Uh," he replies intelligently, his mouth suddenly dry. "I uh..."

Wooyoung lets go of Yeosang's shirt so he can face San instead, tipping his head in a way that might look cutely curious if his expression wasn't so menacing. They engage in a staring contest that lasts about ten seconds before Wooyoung walks right up to San's side, reaching down unexpectedly and grabbing San's wrist.

"What about this?" Wooyoung asks, lifting San's hand until it's touching his shoulder, his elbow pointing straight up to the ceiling.

Confused, San turns his head to look at the back of his own arm, surprised to find the smooth skin littered with faint, yellow bruises. Bruises made by Yeosang's fingers as they dug into San's triceps, clutching at San's arms while San fucked him into the mattress.

"We had sex," Yeosang blurts from the bed, his eyes gaping and chest heaving like he's shocked by his own audacity. "Last night I went to his room and we had sex."

Wooyoung uncoils his fingers from San's wrist, his attention now completely on Yeosang. "You two had sex?" he says, his tone low and accusatory.

Yeosang swallows so hard San can see it from where he's standing. "Yes," he rasps.

"Last night? Without me?"

Yeosang's mouth opens but he can't seem to make himself speak, his panicked eyes finding San's, silently pleading for rescue.

"Yes," San says, earning Wooyoung's piercing focus. "Yeosang's my boyfriend," he makes himself continue as firmly as possible even as his legs begin to shake. "We're allowed to have sex with each other, just the two of us. The three of us agreed to that when we all decided to date each other."

Wooyoung's glare is so chilly it makes San shiver. "If that's what we agreed to," he says, tone sharp and angry, "why the fuck have the two of you gone so long without fucking each other?"

"What?" Yeosang shouts, indignant with outrage.

The corner of Wooyoung's mouth twitches into a smirk at Yeosang's outburst. "What, did you guys think I'd be mad at you or something?"

"Yes!" Yeosang cries, flopping dramatically backward onto Wooyoung's hotel mattress.

"Why?" Wooyoung asks, tone so perplexed and calm it's obvious his earlier harshness was all for show.

San cringes softly. "You can get a little jealous sometimes," he answers carefully.

"Of course I get jealous," Wooyoung replies bluntly. "I'm in love with both of you. Why wouldn't I get jealous if one of the people I love is fucking someone who isn't me?"

"But you just– I'm so confused," Yeosang whines as he pushes himself sitting again. "You just yelled at us for not having sex."

"It's not fair if I fuck both of you but you don't fuck each other," Wooyoung explains, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. "Unless you don't want to fuck each other."

"We want to," San says, his eyes locking on Yeosang.

"Then what's the problem?" Wooyoung asks, frustrated. "You've both been acting so weird around each other since like last year."

Yeosang's expression shifts, his lips curving downward in a guilty frown. "Do you remember the fight we had last March?"

Wooyoung blinks, his arms dropping to his sides. "Is that why?" he says, hurt clear in his voice. "I said I was sorry for yelling at you. I told you I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," Yeosang replies, getting up from the bed to approach Wooyoung. "I was just so worried about Kingdom and everything else and I knew if we kept fighting it would just make things so much harder for everyone."

"Did he tell you about this?" Wooyoung asks, turning his attention so San.

"Um," San replies, suddenly, inexplicably anxious. "Not until last night?"

Wooyoung's gaze snaps back to Yeosang. "Did you seriously stop sleeping with San and not even tell him why?"

"To be fair it's not like we've had a lot of time for sex lately," Yeosang answers, taking a nervous step away from Wooyoung.

"Also I sort of figured out what he was doing," San volunteers, hoping to placate at least some of Wooyoung's ire.

Wooyoung shakes his head, his smile incredulous. "What is wrong with you two?"

"I did it to keep from upsetting you," Yeosang says, affronted.

"So you're blaming me. Is that what you're saying?"

"Hey hey," San interjects, moving so he can take one each of Yeosang and Wooyoung's hands. "No one's blaming anyone."

"Sure sounds like it to me," Wooyoung argues, but he doesn't fight it when San tangles his fingers with Wooyoung's.

Yeosang's eyes move to San's when he twines their fingers together too, exhaling a shaky breath. "If anyone's to blame for anything right now, it's me."

"Yeosang," San protests, but Yeosang shakes his head.

"I panicked," Yeosang says, meeting Wooyoung's eyes this time. "I do it all the time. If any of us fight or either of you get upset or even look like you might get upset, I want to fix it as fast as I can."

"Why?" Wooyoung asks.

"Because I'm terrified of things going back to the way they were at the beginning," Yeosang answers, a tremor of fear in his voice. "Because everything is so good now and I don't want anything to ruin it."

"Yeah, I get that," Wooyoung replies, tone brusque but not unkind. "But why are you the one who has to fix it all the time?"

Yeosang's chest rises and falls heavily with his breath. "It's my fault we're like this," he says. "If I hadn't fallen in love with San you guys could have been a normal couple."

San turns his head toward Yeosang in confusion. "But you fell in love with Wooyoung first, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Yeosang answers flatly. "But then I left him behind."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Wooyoung asks. "It's not like I told you how I felt until I followed you to KQ and you already had feelings for San."

Yeosang's hand tenses like he wants to let go of San's, but San only holds on more tightly. "You didn't tell me anything until you had feelings for San," Yeosang says, his voice wavering. "But I knew you liked him before you told me. We all knew."

He stops to pull in a shaky breath. "I thought my feelings for you were one-sided," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "I could tell so easily you loved San, but I never saw that with me. If I hadn't told San how I felt about him before you came to KQ it would have been so much easier. You two could have just fallen in love without having to go through all the turmoil of trying to let me be part of it."

San grimaces as he swallows around the flare of hurt in his chest. "I was falling in love with you too," he reminds Yeosang. "You knew I was."

"Also everything you just said is bullshit," Wooyoung adds, blunt as always. "I was hurt when you ditched me back at BigHit. I was even more hurt when I came after you and you acted like there was nothing special between us, like we weren't best friends, like you hadn't confessed to me. We've had this fight already. Like so many times," he goes on, voice getting raspier by the second. "I made a show of being close to San because I was trying to hurt you back. But I didn't know how you felt about him at the time. You know about all of that."

"None of it changes the fact that things between you and San would have been easier if I'd just gotten out of the way," Yeosang counters.

"You weren't in the way!" Wooyoung shouts, tugging on San's arm as he gestures angrily. "I was in love with you. San was in love with you. We're still in love with you. You always try to put yourself last because you think you deserve it, but how do you think it makes us feel when you do that?"

Yeosang blinks in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open. "I, I don't..."

"This relationship isn't 'Woosan plus Yeosang,'" Wooyoung says curtly. "It's Woosansang. Or Sansangwoo or what the fuck ever. You're an equal part in this. You're literally in the middle of it because you fell in love with both of us before we even met each other."

"And also we want you there," San adds softly, speaking up for the first time in several minutes.

"He's right," Wooyoung agrees. "We want you there. Like literally and figuratively."

Yeosang's eyes move between San and Wooyoung, his expression soft and vulnerable. "And by literally you mean...?"

Wooyoung purses his lips against a wicked little smirk. "I mean physically," he replies, reaching for Yeosang's hand to complete the circle between them. "Obviously I didn't bring you two here to yell at you."

"What was the whole interrogation thing about then?" San asks.

Wooyoung shrugs. "It's fun to mess with you guys."

Yeosang's mouth drops open in indigent exasperation. "We just went through all that because you wanted to mess with us?"

"I didn't think it was going to end up becoming some emotional airing of grievances," Wooyoung retorts. "I've actually been a little worried maybe you two were, like. Drifting apart or something. Honestly I was super relieved when I saw Yeosang's hickey this morning."

"Wait, this morning?" Yeosang squeaks.

"Yeah," Wooyoung replies. "You could totally see it through the shirt you wore to breakfast."

"Oh my god," Yeosang mumbles, dropping his head in mortification.

"Then why were you upset about the kiss?"

Wooyoung blinks at San. "What kiss?"

"The one I gave Yeosang on stage the other night," San answers.

"Who said I was upset about that?"

"You sounded upset during your YouTube live," Yeosang says. "That's why I was in San's room in the first place."

A bemused smile stretches across Wooyoung's face. "You thought that was me being upset?" he asks with a squeaky cackle.

"Yes!" Yeosang replies emphatically. "When Atiny mentioned it you got all surly."

"I wasn't surly," Wooyoung says, shaking his head in amused annoyance. "More like ambivalent. It's not like it was news to me; I was literally there when it happened!"

"You saw me kiss him?"

"Not live," Wooyoung replies with a loose shrug. "But I saw Yeosang grinning at you like right after so I went and looked up a fancam."

"You're unbelievable," Yeosang grouses.

"Were you seriously worried I was mad about that?" Wooyoung asks, casting his bewildered gaze between San and Yeosang.

"He wanted to send you flowers," San discloses, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Wait, for real?" Wooyoung asks, his eyes wide as he looks right at Yeosang. "How come I never got any?"

"I wasn't sure how to order them in America," Yeosang says.

"And then I fucked him instead," San adds, not bothering to keep the smugness out of his voice.

"Wow," Wooyoung responds in almost exactly the same tone he used on his live the night before. "If I didn't like the mental image of the two of you getting naked together so much I might be a little offended. Did you talk about me when you were doing it at least?"

"You definitely came up a few times," San replies, licking his lips. "Actually there's something sort of related I was going to talk to you about when we got home, but I guess I could do it now," he goes on, his pulse fluttering in his throat as Yeosang's eyes widen in realization.

A crease appears between Wooyoung's brows. "Related to what?"

"Sex with Yeosang," San answers.

"Oh my god, please no," Yeosang says, slipping his hand free of San's so he can cover his face. "Not with me in the room."

"What, no, now you have to tell me," Wooyoung says, glancing from San to Yeosang's flushed face and back. "What about sex with Yeosang?"

San reaches out to gently curl his fingers around Yeosang's wrist, tugging Yeosang's hand away form his face. "Do you really not want me to bring it up with you here?"

A strained look crosses Yeosang's expression. He holds San's gaze for a few seconds before he huffs a soft sigh, turning his attention to Wooyoung. "You have to promise not to tease me," he says seriously. "Or get jealous."

Something like hurt flashes in Wooyoung's eyes. "Did he do something special with you last night?"

Yeosang presses his lips into a flat line. "Will you please just promise?"

The look on Wooyoung's face is so similar to Yeosang's it's almost like they're mirror images of each other. "I'll try," Wooyoung concedes. "Like I won't tease you, but you know how jealous I am."

"I know," Yeosang says with a nod before he looks back at San, saying, "You can tell him."

"Let's sit down first, yeah?" San suggests, the tension between Yeosang and Wooyoung so thick already San can practically taste it.

"Okay," Wooyoung replies, untangling his hands from Yeosang and San's and crawling onto his bed, tugging a pillow into his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. He looks anxious, like he's preparing himself to hear something that might hurt his feelings, and it reminds San that, underneath all his bravado, he's just as sensitive and vulnerable as Yeosang and San.

Yeosang gets into bed next, sitting at Wooyoung's side with his legs stretched out in front of him, his eyes on the bare caps of his knees. When San follows him he sits crosslegged facing Wooyoung, reaching out to wrap his fingers loosely around Yeosang's ankle.

"Can you hurry up and tell me now?" Wooyoung pleads, his eyes moving from San's hand on Yeosang's ankle to San's face. "Please?"

"I came untouched again," Yeosang blurts before San even has a chance to open his mouth, his gaze still focused on his own knees.

"Wait when?" Wooyoung asks, his head snapping toward Yeosang. "Last night with San?"

Yeosang doesn't look up when he nods.

Wooyoung turns his wide, intense eyes on San. "How'd you do it?"

"I don't really know," San answers honestly. "Yeosang said it was from, like, an explosion of feelings."

Wooyoung's face twists in obvious anguish. "Oh." Beside him Yeosang exhales a low, shaky sigh.

"I think it was because it'd been so long since the last time we had sex," San explains, squeezing Yeosang's ankle. "He told me the same thing happened once with you."

"Yeah, like four years ago," Wooyoung grumbles, slumping back against the headboard.

"I like how you're acting all sad when you made it happen the first time I ever had sex," Yeosang mutters, his eyes skirting in Wooyoung's direction.

"And he did it yesterday," Wooyoung fires back, leveling a glare at Yeosang.

Yeosang lifts his head to meet Wooyoung's fiery gaze with one of his own. "You promised you wouldn't get jealous."

"I promised I'd try," Wooyoung corrects tersely.

"Are you trying?" Yeosang asks, tone clipped. "Because it doesn't seem like it."

"Alright, that's enough," San says sternly, letting go of Yeosang's ankle. "Both of you are going to be quiet for a minute and listen to me, okay?"

Both Yeosang and Wooyoung turn their attention to San, their displeased expressions once again practically identical. Yeosang is the first to assent, the hardness of his jaw relaxing as he nods, Wooyoung following a second later with a jerky bob of his head.

"Okay," San says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "All I wanted to say is that I thought this might be something we could do together. Because honestly the three of us make a really good team."

Wooyoung's expression softens almost immediately. "You mean try to make Yeosang come like that again?"

San nods softly, holding Wooyoung's gaze.

"Do you want that?" Wooyoung asks, the look he gives Yeosang this time nothing but loving and tender.

Yeosang exhales a heavy, shaking breath. "I just want you to both be happy," he says, voice wavering dangerously.

"Are you going to cry?" Wooyoung asks worriedly, which only serves to encourage a single, fat tear to skip down Yeosang's cheek. "Baby, oh no," Wooyoung murmurs sweetly, wiping the shiny streak of saline away with the pad of his thumb. "Don't cry, my baby. Please don't cry."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Yeosang says thickly. "I think, there's just been so much stress..."

"Shh, it's okay," Wooyoung shushes him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry I got so jealous, that I always get so jealous. I'll keep trying to be better, I promise."

"Can we just, like. Get naked and make out or something?" Yeosang asks with a teary laugh, lifting his damp eyes to meet San's. "Please?"

Wooyoung finds San's gaze as he nods. "We should definitely do that," he says, wasting no time in tugging the pillow out of his lap and pulling his shirt off over his head, balling the fabric nervously between his hands. "Right?" he asks, voice cracking as he casts an anxious glance between San and Yeosang.

Yeosang's chest rises and falls with a deep breath, his hands fumbling as he peels his shirt off too, tossing it to the floor. The hickey on his shoulder stands out like a beacon and Wooyoung reaches out immediately to touch it, mapping the edges with the tips of his fingers.

"Did he give this to you while he was fucking you?" Wooyoung asks huskily, Yeosang's eyes fluttering closed.

"When I came," San answers in Yeosang's stead, heat rising to his cheeks when Wooyoung turns his dark eyes on him, fingers still on Yeosang's skin.

"Fuck, really?"

"Yes," Yeosang says this time, tipping his head down to look at the bruise beneath Wooyoung's fingertips.

Wooyoung exhales long and low, brushing his thumb over the breadth of the mark. "Can I kiss you here?"

"Yes," Yeosang repeats, tilting his head back when Wooyoung ducks to press his mouth over the bruise. Yeosang meets San's eyes through his eyelashes as he threads his fingers into Wooyoung's hair, a blush burning up the column of his throat.

"You're so fucking sexy," Wooyoung murmurs, his lips still bumped up against Yeosang's shoulder. "You're both so sexy."

Yeosang swallows, his larynx bobbing. The look on his face is entreating, his gaze moving down San's front then returning to San's eyes in a silent request.

It only takes San a second or two to decipher it, his hands shaking as he reaches behind his head to grip the collar of his tank top, pulling the garment off over his head. Yeosang nods in confirmation once San's topless, his teeth pressing into his lower lip as his eyes move over San's naked chest.

"What about me?" San asks softly, resting his hand on Wooyoung's bare lower back.

"Hmm?" Wooyoung hums, pausing where he's still mouthing wetly at Yeosang's skin and pursing his lips to smack a final kiss to Yeosang's hickey.

San tucks three of his fingertips into the waistband of Wooyoung's pajama pants. "Are you going to kiss my bruises too?"

Wooyoung sits up, Yeosang's hand slipping from his hair as he looks back at San. "Of course, baby," he says sweetly, lifting to his knees and shuffling closer to San on the mattress. "Lift your arm for me?"

San does as he's asked, folding his hand in toward his shoulder as he raises his elbow until the back of his arm is facing Wooyoung. Wooyoung skims the tips of his first two fingers over the cluster of bruises like he's tracing out constellations, his touch light and intoxicating.

"He must have held you so tight," Wooyoung says, leaning in over San's crossed legs to brush a butterfly kiss to San's skin.

"He did," San replies, his eyes locked on Yeosang's. "He's so strong, I should have known he'd leave marks on me."

A strange look crosses Yeosang's face. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, soft and concerned.

"It didn't hurt," San says thickly, breath catching in his throat as Wooyoung scatters damp kisses over the back of his arm. "I liked it."

Color rises to Yeosang's cheeks. "I'm glad," he says, rolling to his knees. "I really couldn't help it. You felt so good."

"I can't believe I didn't even get to see it," Wooyoung whines, nipping at the edge of San's armpit in retaliation.

"Ah!" San yelps, his arm knocking into the top of Wooyoung's head when he instinctively recoils.

"We could show you right now," Yeosang offers as he eases up behind Wooyoung, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung's waist from behind as he lowers his head to press a kiss to the tattoo at the base of Wooyoung's neck.

"What if I want to fuck you?" Wooyoung retorts, looking back in Yeosang's direction. "Or I want San to fuck me?"

Yeosang squeezes Wooyoung in his embrace, hooking his chin over Wooyoung's shoulder. "I thought you wanted me in the middle."

"You did say that," San points out, lifting his hand to brush his fingers down the side of Wooyoung's neck.

"He'd still be in the middle if I fucked him," Wooyoung grumbles even as he turns into the touch.

Yeosang's gaze is dark when it meets San's, the tips of his ears flushing pink. "What if you both fuck me?"

"At the same time?" Wooyoung blurts, his eyes wide as he shifts in the circle of Yeosang's arms, attempting to see Yeosang's face.

The images that flood San's mind are mostly nebulous but the idea itself is very clear, the mere, unfathomable thought causing heat to burn up the sides of his neck, his cheeks burning. "Is that even possible?" he murmurs, dizzy with awe.

"Oh it's definitely possible," Wooyoung says, casting a glance at San. "I'll send you some links later."

Yeosang clears his throat awkwardly. "Not that I haven't though about it before, but that's not what I meant for tonight."

"Wait, you've really thought about it before?" Wooyoung asks, attention snapping back to Yeosang.

Yeosang's breath hitches, his face coloring as his eyes move between Wooyoung and San. "Um, yes?" he answers anxiously.

"How come you've never told me?"

Yeosang cringes softly. "Because it's kind of embarrassing?"

"Oh my god, Yeosang," Wooyoung groans, dropping his head back in exasperation. "It's not embarrassing, you weirdo!"

Yeosang stares at Wooyoung, expression skeptical. "It's not?"

"No!" Wooyoung replies emphatically. "It's hot! Like maybe even the hottest thing I've ever heard."

Yeosang presses his lips together to smother a bashful smile. "Really?"

"Yes!" Wooyoung shouts with a laugh. "Aish, when are you going to finally realize how sexy we both think you are?"

Yeosang shakes his head as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth shyly, clearly flustered.

"What did you mean?" San interjects, both Wooyoung and Yeosang turning to look at him. "For tonight," he clarifies, his pulse fluttering in his throat.

"Oh, um," Yeosang replies nervously. "I meant, like. One at a time."

Wooyoung exhales, his breath gusting coolly over the bare skin of San's chest. "That's sexy too, for the record," Wooyoung says, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip, dark eyes locked on San's.

"You think everything is sexy," Yeosang teases, biting playfully at the cap of Wooyoung's shoulder.

"Not everything, you demon," Wooyoung retorts, twisting around suddenly and lunging to catch Yeosang by the upper arms, making Yeosang gasp. "But you, you're sexy all the time," he says, a seductive curl to his voice. "Right, Sannie?"

Yeosang's wide, dark eyes shift from Wooyoung's to meet San's gaze over Wooyoung's shoulder.

"All the time," San agrees with a nod, the way Yeosang's eyelashes flutter in response sending a warm, pleased thrill down San's spine.

"See?" Wooyoung says, sliding his hands down the length of Yeosang's arms, curling his fingers around Yeosang's wrists.

Yeosang takes a sharp breath, his eyes back on Wooyoung's. "If you think I'm so sexy," he says throatily, "why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Wooyoung huffs a laugh in reply and San can tell just from the sound of it that Wooyoung's smirking. "I did kiss you, remember?" he replies, letting go of one of Yeosang's wrists to poke the hickey on Yeosang's shoulder. "Right there."

Yeosang tips his head, pursing his lips in annoyance. "You know what I meant."

"If you want me to kiss you, just ask me," Wooyoung replies petulantly.

Yeosang rolls his eyes. "I have no idea why I put up with you."

"Because you love me," Wooyoung sing-songs, leaning in to peck Yeosang's cheek noisily.

"Ugh, you're right," Yeosang groans dramatically. "Now will you please kiss me?"

"I just–"

"On the mouth," Yeosang interrupts.

"Wow, when did you get so demanding," Wooyoung complains, shaking his head.

Yeosang heaves an irritated sigh, his mouth dropping open like he's about to say something unkind. But Wooyoung stops him, bringing a hand up to cup Yeosang's jaw and brushing his thumb over the arch of Yeosang's cheekbone.

"You know I'm just teasing you, right?" Wooyoung says, pouting.

Yeosang's sigh is gentler this time. "I know."

Wooyoung slides his hand down the side of Yeosang's neck. "No more tonight, I promise," he whispers, tugging Yeosang toward him as he tilts his head to the side, finally bringing their mouths together.

Yeosang moans and heat pools low in San's belly at the sound of it, at the way Yeosang's arms wrap around Wooyoung's back, holding on tightly. San knows exactly what it's like to be kissed by Wooyoung, and just watching Wooyoung kiss Yeosang, even at an angle where all he can really see is the back of Wooyoung's head, makes him dizzy with arousal.

By the time Wooyoung pulls away from Yeosang's mouth a minute or two later to trail kisses down the side of Yeosang's neck San's dick is fully hard and throbbing between his thighs. Yeosang's parted lips are reddened and split-slick, his eyes wet and dark when he opens them and catches San's gaze. San doesn't hesitate before he shifts to his hands and knees, crawling to Yeosang's side.

Yeosang turns his head to San immediately, tipping his chin forward to meet San halfway, their kiss wet and heated from the second their mouths come together.

Yeosang always tastes different to San after he's kissed Wooyoung, like a combination of both of them on his tongue. It's not new but it makes San whimper anyway as he tangles his fingers in Yeosang's hair, pressing closer, kissing Yeosang deeper, Yeosang's hand coming to rest on his hip, clutching at the waist of his sweats.

He loses himself in Yeosang's kisses, in the gorgeous sounds Yeosang makes in reaction to having San's tongue in his mouth, to whatever Wooyoung's doing to him at the same time. When they finally break apart, desperate for oxygen, San blinks his eyes open to see Wooyoung's hand down the front of Yeosang's shorts, Wooyoung's face pressed against Yeosang's chest as he sucks a little red mark into the skin, half a dozen more already left behind in his wake, Yeosang's hand fisted in Wooyoung's hair.

"Good thing we don't have another show tomorrow," San remarks, watching Wooyoung's lips curve into a smile where they're still brushing Yeosang's pectoral.

"All of mine are easy to hide," Wooyoung says, sitting up as straight as he can with his hand still on Yeosang's dick.

"Until I have to take my shirt off," Yeosang counters breathlessly, his eyes rolling back as the muscles in Wooyoung's arm tense.

Wooyoung scowls. "Who else are you taking your shirt off for?"

"Not for anyone," Yeosang answers, voice shaking. "But around our stylists, the staff. The other members."

"The other members don't count," Wooyoung says. "And we won't get styled by anyone again until the Grammy Museum thing. The hickies I just gave you will definitely be gone by then."

"What if they aren't?"

Wooyoung turns his head to give San an exasperated glare. "Then we'll put makeup over them like you guys did with the other one."

"The things I go through, dating you two," Yeosang laments.

"Because you clearly hate it when we mark you up," Wooyoung scoffs, Yeosang's breathy whimper more than enough for San to be able to guess what Wooyoung's doing with the hand he has in Yeosang shorts. "You've definitely never begged me to suck bruises into your thighs before."

Yeosang presses his eyes closed, his body shuddering. "Okay, you win," he concedes thickly. "I like it when you mark me."

"Me too?" San asks, reaching down to skim his fingertips along the soft skin of Yeosang's inner thigh from the hem of his shorts down to his knee.

"God," Yeosang gasps, another full-body shiver rolling through him. "Yes, you too."

"We should probably fuck him now," Wooyoung says, turning his head in San's direction. "He's really, really hard."

San curves his palm around the bend of Yeosang's knee. "Are you ready?" he asks softly, eyes locked on Yeosang's.

Yeosang inhales shakily, his eyelashes fluttering as he shifts his gaze between Wooyoung and San. "I'm ready," he whispers, voice tight and breathless. "I want it."

Wooyoung pulls his hand out of Yeosang's shorts, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Yeosang's cheek before he rolls out of bed. "Get naked," he says over his shoulder as he crosses the room. "I'll be right back."

San watches Wooyoung disappear into the bathroom before he turns to share a look with Yeosang. "You okay?" he asks, keeping his voice low.

Yeosang nods, chest rising as he fills his lungs with a deep breath. "I'm okay," he replies, running his fingers through his hair.

San nods back, laying a comforting hand on Yeosang's knee. "Are you really up for this tonight?"

"I need it, I think," Yeosang says. "I need to know everything's okay between all of us."

"We can probably do that without having sex," San points out carefully.

Yeosang takes another measured breath. "Honestly, I don't think we can," he admits softly. "Sex is the thing we've been getting wrong lately. I guess I just want to remind myself that we can do it right."

"Why are you both still wearing pants?" Wooyoung asks, coming back from the bathroom with a couple damp washcloths in hand, a towel hanging over his arm.

"We were waiting for you," San replies, squeezing Yeosang's knee.

Wooyoung casts a skeptical glance between the two of them. "Well, I'm back," he says, laying the towel on the bedside table and setting the washcloths beside it. "Come on, hurry up and get naked."

Yeosang huffs a laugh, shaking his head fondly. "The romance. I can barely stand it."

Wooyoung's mouth screws up in an annoyed scowl. "Are you trying to get me to lovingly undress you? Because I will."

"Something tells me your version of loving probably isn't very patient or gentle," Yeosang quips, shifting away from the headboard enough to lay down on his back, bracing his feet on the mattress and lifting his hips, tugging his shorts down his thighs.

"Hey, I can be gentle," Wooyoung pouts, reaching into the pocket of his pajama pants to pull out a strip of condoms and a small bottle of lube, setting both on top of the towel.

Yeosang sits up, pulling his shorts the rest of the way off and tossing them over the end of the bed. "Then come show me," he says as he lays back in the middle of the mattress, dragging a pillow into place beneath his head.

San watches Wooyoung's gaze move along the length of Yeosang's lean body, his eyes hungry and full of love. "What do you want me to do?" Wooyoung asks, licking his lips.

Color rises to Yeosang's cheeks but his tone is still commanding when he answers, "Put your fingers in me."

Wooyoung bites down hard on his lower lip. "Okay," he agrees fervently, hurrying out of his pants and grabbing the bottle from the bedside table. He hastily slicks up his fingers before crawling into bed, settling on his knees beside Yeosang.

Yeosang lets his thighs splay wide and Wooyoung shuffles closer, reaching between Yeosang's legs to trail his fingers back behind Yeosang's balls, slipping his fingertips slowly into Yeosang's cleft. "How's this?"

Yeosang's eyes slide closed. "Good," he says, soft and breathless, his head pushing back into his pillow.

Wooyoung smiles, shifting his weight to lean down closer and press a kiss to the cap of Yeosang's knee.

San can see everything from where he's sitting, watching with rapt attention as Wooyoung traces tender circles around Yeosang's rim, the fluttering muscles relaxing under the attention. Yeosang whimpers with each pass, his face flushed and body shaking, cock bobbing, hard and leaking, above his abdomen.

Wooyoung touches Yeosang that way for so long that Yeosang keens in surprise when Wooyoung finally slides a finger into him, adding a second after only one stroke. "You're opening up for me so well, baby," Wooyoung praises, ducking his head to kiss Yeosang's thigh softly. "Is it because Sannie took such good care of you last night?"

The sound of his name yanks San out of his stupor and he blinks as he locks gazes with Wooyoung, jumping a little when he feels a hand wrap around his wrist. Looking down he finds Yeosang holding onto him, his fingers clinging tightly.

"You can say it," Wooyoung urges, voice sweet and soft, eyes trained on Yeosang. "You can tell me he made you feel good. I want to hear it."

Yeosang's hand squeezes harder around San's wrist. "It was so good, he made me feel so good," he manages thickly, spreading his thighs when Wooyoung leans closer, plunging his fingers into Yeosang more firmly.

"Yeah?" Wooyoung replies, twisting his fingers on the next thrust and making Yeosang cry out softly. "What about me? Am I'm making you feel good, baby?"

"Yes," Yeosang whines, his fingernails digging briefly into the thin skin on the inside of San's wrist before finally letting go. "You always feel, feel so fucking good."

Wooyoung licks his lips. Sweat is starting to shine on his skin and suddenly all San can think about is kissing the taste of salt from his shoulder, from his lean, bunching bicep.

"Do you want Sannie to make you feel good right now too?" Wooyoung asks huskily. "Do you want to feel both of us inside you?"

Yeosang moans brokenly, his head falling to the side, and San inhales sharply as a thrill of arousal shudders through him, his eyes drawn to where Wooyoung's fingers are still pumping in and out of Yeosang's body, glossy and slick. San's guts tighten at the thought of pressing inside himself, the two of them filling Yeosang up together, feeling him clench around both of them at the same time.

"I, I want it," Yeosang chokes out, his eyes fierce and damp when he opens them, staring straight up at Wooyoung.

San sees Wooyoung's jaw tense just before he glances toward the bedside table, reaching for the bottle of lube. "San-ah," he calls, turning to meet San's eyes and tossing the bottle in San's direction.

San fumbles the catch, the bottle bouncing from his fingers and off his chest before it falls into his lap. His hands shake as he pops the cap and he spills almost as much lube as he gets on his fingers, thankfully most of it on his own sweats and not the hotel duvet. He makes sure the lid's closed before he tosses the bottle aside then rolls to his knees, shuffling over to Wooyoung's side.

Wooyoung bites his lip as he turns to look briefly at San before returning his focus to Yeosang, burying his fingers deep and holding them there. "Can you take three, Sang-ah?" he asks, voice raspy.

"Yes," Yeosang answers with a nod, his dark eyes moving between San and Wooyoung as his flushed chest heaves with his desperate, noisy breaths. "Please, yes."

San swallows, glancing at Wooyoung as he traces his slick, trembling fingertips along Yeosang's rim where it's stretched around the base of Wooyoung's two fingers. Yeosang moans softly, his muscles fluttering beneath the touch.

"Hang on, let me..." Wooyoung says with a rough whisper as he pulls his hand back, withdrawing his fingers to the second knuckle. "Okay, now try."

San takes a sharp breath and holds it, sliding the end of one finger along the furrow between Wooyoung's then carefully tucking his fingertip under the tight ring of Yeosang's hole. Yeosang's body clenches around him as he inches his way inside, wrapping his hand around Wooyoung's once he's managed to get two-thirds of his finger past Yeosang's rim. The two of them hold onto each other tightly as Wooyoung eases their fingers in the rest of the way, not stopping until all three are buried to the hilt.

"How's that, Yeosang-ah?" Wooyoung asks, looking up from between Yeosang's legs to meet his eyes. "Does it feel okay?"

Yeosang nods jerkily, his eyes fluttering closed. "Feels good," he answers thickly, his larynx bobbing as he swallows.

"Do you want us to move?"

Yeosang licks his lips, blinks open his eyes. "Yes."

Wooyoung takes a deep, measured breath. "Okay," he says, squeezing his fingers around San's hand as he pulls back a centimeter then sinks back in, slow and careful. Yeosang's breath hitches but he doesn't tell them to stop so Wooyoung keeps going, San's heart thundering behind his ribs as Wooyoung fucks their fingers into Yeosang with gentle, steady strokes.

"You're doing so good for us, Sang-ah," Wooyoung praises, stroking the outside of Yeosang's leg with his free hand. "Do you want more, baby? Do you want us to fill you up?"

Yeosang exhales a shuddery groan, his eyes rolling back and body squeezing around San and Wooyoung inside him. "Yes," he whines throatily, fists tangled in the blankets beneath him. "Fuck please."

Wooyoung turns toward San, leaning in to scrape his teeth over San's shoulder before pressing a kiss to the same spot. "Wanna give him another one?" he asks, his lips still brushing San's skin as he looks up at him through his eyelashes.

San's stomach clenches, the air rushing out of his lungs at Wooyoung's words, at the soft moan Yeosang breathes in response. He nods dazedly and Wooyoung grins, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

They both turn their attention to their hands, pulling out of Yeosang carefully until just the tips of their fingers are still resting inside. Then San bends his middle finger up until he can wiggle past Yeosang's rim, slipping the width of it inside.

"That's it," Wooyoung murmurs heatedly as they slowly push back inside, his breath gusting warmly over San's cheek. "God, you look so good, taking both of us, opening up for us."

Beneath them Yeosang whimpers and San looks up to see Yeosang's eyes squeezed closed, his shining face lined with concentration or pleasure or pain, maybe all three. He's breathing in sharp, shallow gasps and San reaches down to touch his side, stroking him gently from ribs to hip, asking softly, "Are you okay?"

Yeosang's chest heaves as he opens his eyes, mouth twisting briefly as he winces. "You're, you're both fucking me," he answers brokenly, blinking hard as he fights to keep his eyes open. "I'm so, so much better than okay."

"Wow, you're really into this," Wooyoung says, finally nudging his and San's fingers all the way inside. "Is this what you meant when you said you'd thought about both of us fucking you at the same time before?"

"I've thought about lots, lots of things," Yeosang replies thickly, his voice breaking and head falling back as Wooyoung pulls out a centimeter, thrusting right back in.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Wooyoung growls lowly, repeating the motion of his and San's fingers, gripping San's hand tightly.

San turns his gaze downward to watch as two each of his and Wooyoung's fingers pump in and out of Yeosang's ass, admiring how their hands look tangled together, their skin shiny and flushed as Yeosang's pretty, pink rim stretches around them. "What else do you think about?" he asks, his own voice sounding distant past the ringing in his ears, the heavy pounding of his heartbeat.

Yeosang takes in a shaky breath, his ass clenching around San and Wooyoung every time they plunge into him. "Just being, being like this, between you," he manages breathlessly. "Both of you kissing me and touching, touching me. Fucking me. Coming in me."

"You're amazing, oh my god," Wooyoung groans, reaching around Yeosang's bent leg to wrap the fingers of his free hand around Yeosang's flushed, leaking cock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us about this before now."

Yeosang bucks his hips into Wooyoung's hand, a high, ragged moan spilling past his lips. "I told you, I was embarrassed," he pants, the muscles in his abdomen going rigid as he grinds down onto Wooyoung and San's fingers then arches up into Wooyoung's fist.

"Fuck, why?" Wooyoung asks, slipping his palm up over the head of Yeosang's dick, smearing Yeosang's precome down his shaft.

"Because it's greedy," Yeosang grits out, the skin of his chest and neck and belly flushed and shiny with sweat. "It's too much, I want too much."

"It's not too much," San says without hesitating, turning to meet Wooyoung's eyes. "Nothing you want is too much."

"He's right," Wooyoung replies, voice thin as he focuses on jerking Yeosang off. "It's fucking sexy that you want both of us like that."

"Fuck," Yeosang cries out, his body shuddering and sending a tremor through the mattress. "Fuck, I just, I want, I want you, I want both of you so much," he whimpers, eyes so wet his eyelashes are starting to clump together.

"We're here, you have us," San says, petting Yeosang's side and bumping a kiss to his knee.

"We're right here," Wooyoung agrees, hand moving steadily up and down Yeosang's length. "Me and Sannie are going to take care of you, okay? Tonight and forever."

A sob catches in Yeosang's throat and he presses his eyes closed, his cheeks flushing pink as his head rolls to the side. "I need, can– will someone kiss me, please?"

"Of course, baby," Wooyoung answers immediately, kissing the cap of Yeosang's other knee. "I'll kiss you and Sannie will fuck you, does that sound good?"

Yeosang's body squeezes down around the base of San and Wooyoung's fingers as another shiver rolls through him and he nods, his overheated cheek still pressed against the pillow.

San turns his gaze away from Yeosang to find Wooyoung looking right at him, his eyes dark and face flushed. San holds his breath when Wooyoung's grip on his hand tightens, the two of them staring into each other's eyes as they slide their fingers free of the tight, hot clutch of Yeosang's ass.

San takes a breath. "Are you sure you–"

"I want to watch you with him," Wooyoung interrupts, voice low and husky as he leans in close, stealing a kiss from San's lips. "You fucked him so good yesterday and I didn't get to see it."

Blinking his eyes open, San exhales a heated sigh. "We'll show you tonight."

A slow smile spreads across Wooyoung's face. "Get your pants off," he murmurs, smacking a kiss to San's cheek before shifting away so he can quickly wipe his sticky hand with one of the damp washcloths on the bedside table then crawl to Yeosang's side.

San watches Wooyoung and Yeosang together for a moment, sees Wooyoung tenderly brush Yeosang's hair out of his face and stroke his thumb along the sweaty arch of Yeosang's brow before he leans down to capture Yeosang's mouth in a slow, searching kiss. It's a sweet, romantic moment, one that makes San's heart swell with how much he loves both of them, with how happy it makes him to see how much they love each other.

And then Wooyoung's hand starts roaming, his palm drifting from the side of Yeosang's neck down over his chest, fingers finding and tweaking a nipple. He swallows Yeosang's sharp, whining moan but the sound still goes right to San's dick, reminding him that he's actually supposed to be doing something besides staring adoringly at his two boyfriends like a love-sick idiot.

Fumbling out of bed, he hurries out of his sweats, his legs shaking as he goes around to the nightstand, tearing a condom off the strip Wooyoung dropped there earlier. He tears the packet open and tosses the foil aside before he climbs back into bed, resolutely not looking at Yeosang and Wooyoung as he rolls the condom down over his cock, stroking his loose fist down the length to make sure it stays in place.

The pitch of Yeosang's moans changes while San retrieves the lube from where it rolled against the headboard and he risks a glance in their direction once he has the bottle open, his dick throbbing when he sees Wooyoung's hand down between Yeosang's legs, his fingers looping around Yeosang's swollen hole. San's mouth goes dry as he watches Wooyoung touch Yeosang, his fingertips trailing up Yeosang's taint before he cups his palm over Yeosang's balls, squeezing them gently, Yeosang clutching at Wooyoung's hair and whimpering into Wooyoung's mouth.

He has to use a light touch when he slicks himself up because, between the scene in front of him and the feeling of friction on his dick, San's legitimately worried he might come before he even touches Yeosang. Finally ready, he crawls awkwardly across the mattress, trying to keep his sticky hand away from the bedding as he moves into place between Yeosang's splayed thighs.

"Wooyoung-ah, will you hand me the towel?"

"Mhm," Wooyoung hums, kissing Yeosang for two or three more seconds before he eases back with a nip to Yeosang's lower lip. He flops onto his back, grabbing the towel from the nightstand and tossing it in San's direction, hitting Yeosang's leg instead.

San reaches down to retrieve it from where it's fallen into the crease of Yeosang's thigh, his gaze moving from Yeosang's crotch to his face, their eyes meeting as San wipes the excess lube from his palm. The connection between them is as instant and electric tonight as it had been the night before and San curves himself over Yeosang's body without waiting another second, bracing himself on one hand and lowering his head. Yeosang meets him halfway, their mouths come together hard and hungry, Wooyoung making a soft sound of appreciation from where's still laying beside them.

San feels a hand on his shoulder a few seconds later, his only warning before Wooyoung pushes his face between them, his mouth open as he laps his way into the middle of their kiss. The three of them kiss that way for a minute or two, tongues twining and lips catching, wet and desperate and messy, one of Yeosang's hands tangled in San's hair, one of Wooyoung's gripping the back of San's neck.

Wooyoung breaks free first, settling on his side next to Yeosang and stroking his hand down along San's arm as the other two of them continue to kiss shallowly, panting into each other's mouths. "You can keep kissing him with your dick in him," Wooyoung says, a hint of sassiness in his voice. "In case you weren't aware."

"Hm," Yeosang hums as he nudges up into one final kiss. "Sounds like Wooyoung's impatient," he remarks, his eyes curved in a smile when San opens his own. "How unusual."

"Shut up," Wooyoung grouses, slapping Yeosang's left pectoral. "The real question is why aren't you?"

Yeosang tips his head in Wooyoung's direction. "We have time," he replies simply.

Wooyoung sighs, sliding his palm down over Yeosang's belly. "But if you guys hurry up and fuck now we can order room service and take a nap then wake up later for more sex."

"Ah, I see," Yeosang says, his breath hitching when Wooyoung's hand drifts lower, the backs of his knuckles grazing San's abdomen. "You want your turn."

"That's not what I meant," Wooyoung huffs, offended. "I just want more sex with my boyfriends. What's so wrong with that?"

"Nothing," San interjects, arching his hips backward so Wooyoung can wrap his hand around Yeosang's cock. "I want that too."

"Me, me too," Yeosang gasps, his eyes falling closed as Wooyoung begins to stroke him languidly.

"You sure about that?" Wooyoung asks, pausing the motion of his hand. "San's hard and ready for you but apparently you'd rather be giving me a hard time than letting him fuck you."

"I can give you a hard time while he's fucking me," Yeosang retorts breathlessly. "It's even easier than kissing at the same time."

Wooyoung scowls. "You're being awfully sassy to the guy who has his hand on your dick right now."

Yeosang groans, the mattress shaking as he bucks up into the circle of Wooyoung's fingers. "You like it when I'm sassy," he grits out, licking his lips.

"He's not wrong."

Wooyoung turns his head to look up at San. "Are you two ganging up on me now?"

"If you're lucky," Yeosang quips roughly, gasping when Wooyoung squeezes his cock in retaliation.

"You're the one who wants both of us at once," Wooyoung says, leaning down to bite Yeosang's shoulder.

Yeosang yelps lightly, the sound swallowed up almost instantly by a low moan. "I do," he admits thickly. "Fuck, I really do."

"You can have San right now," Wooyoung murmurs, trailing his damp lips over Yeosang's skin. "You're both all ready, he can just slip right inside."

San takes a deep, shuddery breath, his dick twitching at Wooyoung's words. Beneath him Yeosang shivers, his eyes opening and immediately locking on San's, his lips parting on a gaspy moan.

"Do you want me to?" San asks, his heart thumping against his sternum and face flushing hot.

Yeosang nods, his lashes fluttering and chest heaving, Wooyoung's hand still occasionally brushing San's belly as it moves over Yeosang's cock.

San's brain is flooded with memories from the night before as he looks down to angle his dick, lining it up with Yeosang's stretched hole, nudging the tip against the slick ring of muscle. Yeosang's expression is identical to the one San remembers from last night, open and wanting and full of love, and San chokes on the urge to repeat the same words he said then, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing forward until Yeosang's tight, wet heat completely envelops him.

San lets his head hang heavy once he's bottomed out, his arms shaking as he holds himself up, back bowed to leave room for Wooyoung's hand between them. He doesn't move or open his eyes until he feels Yeosang's hand wrap around his wrist, looking up to find Yeosang staring at him, lips parted and eyes damp and sparkling.

"Fuck, I love you," San confesses, the words out of his mouth without him even consciously thinking to say them, easy as breathing.

Yeosang gasps lightly, pressing his eyes shut for a second before forcing them back open, the surfaces shimmering. "Love you," he whispers thickly. "Really, really love you."

"God, you two," Wooyoung says, propped up on his forearm now as he cups his palm over Yeosang's cock, pressing it down against his stomach. "This is so romantic, fuck."

Something about Wooyoung's tone makes San bristle. "What's wrong with romantic?"

"Nothing," Wooyoung answers, eyes on San's. "I like hearing you say you love each other. It's sexy."

"What if we say it to you too?"

Wooyoung blinks, turning his gaze to Yeosang. "Say what?"

"I love you," Yeosang says, a proclamation more than an answer.

"Me too," San adds, rocking forward into Yeosang with a single gentle thrust. "I love you."

Wooyoung huffs a laugh, biting down on his lower lip. "I know that," he replies, his attempt to deflect ruined by the tremor in his voice. "Just like you both know I love you back."

"Hm," San murmurs, shifting to better brace his knees as he rolls his pelvis down, grinding his cock into Yeosang before easing back, fucking him shallowly. "Do we know he loves us, Sang-ah?"

Yeosang moans breathlessly, lifting his feet off the mattress and hooking his heels around the back of San's thighs. "I think I vaguely remember him mentioning it before."

"Aish. Yes, I love you," Wooyoung grumbles, leaning close to Yeosang's ear. "I tell you all the time, you jerk," he growls lowly, sinking his teeth into Yeosang's earlobe hard enough to make him flinch, his body clenching around San's dick inside him as he cries out.

"What about me?" San asks thickly, his fingers curling into the sweat-damp duvet as he curves his back, adjusting the angle of his thrusts.

"What about you?" Wooyoung quips, his words almost drowned out by Yeosang's high, broken whimper.

"D'you love me?" San grunts, the muscles in his abdomen and legs contracting as he focuses on his rhythm, driving into Yeosang harder, deeper.

"Tsch," Wooyoung scoffs, casting a sidelong gaze at San. The back of his hand presses into San's belly as he curls his fingers around Yeosang's cock and starts stroking. "Of course I love you, dummy."

"He's so, so sweet, isn't he?" Yeosang jokes, voice breathy and thin with pleasure.

"Ooh, is that what you like about San?" Wooyoung asks, bumping his lips up against Yeosang's cheek, hand pumping faster over Yeosang's length. "Is he sweet to you?"

Yeosang's eyes slip shut, his next breath shuddering out of him noisily. "Yes," he manages, inhaling sharply.

"What does he say to you?" Wooyoung presses, nuzzling Yeosang's temple. "Does he tell you how pretty you are? How good it feels to be inside you?"

"Yes, fuck," Yeosang pants, one hand wrapping around San's forearm, gripping tightly.

Wooyoung makes a low sound of appreciation, pressing a lazy kiss to Yeosang's birthmark. "Mm, you do like that, don't you?" he says, voice husky.

San nods even though the question is in no way directed at him, knowing the answer both from experience and also the way Yeosang's squeezing down around him, tight enough to make him dizzy. "He's, I think he's close," he grunts, thrusts faltering as pleasure builds at the base of his spine.

"Fuck, are you?" Wooyoung asks, pumping Yeosang's cock faster, his knuckles bumping San's abdomen with each upstroke.

"Yes," Yeosang whimpers, the muscles in his neck and chest and stomach standing out as his heels dig into San's hamstrings. "I'm just, right there, almost, almost there."

Those words trigger San's memory and he gasps as an idea overtakes him. "Don't come," he tells Yeosang, shifting his weight to one arm so he can reach down and grab Wooyoung's wrist. "Stop touching him."

"What–?" Wooyoung asks abruptly, leveling San with an exasperated glare as Yeosang's voice breaks on a sharp whine.

"Talk to him, use your words," San explains awkwardly, tugging at Wooyoung's arm. "Make him come with your words."

Realization dawns in Wooyoung eyes. "Oh," he says, pulling his hand away from Yeosang's dick.

Yeosang sobs pathetically, his head lolling on the pillow. "Fuck, I can't– I just want to come."

"You will," Wooyoung insists roughly, settling his hand on Yeosang's chest and tucking his mouth up next to Yeosang's ear. "You'll come on Sannie's dick while I tell you how perfect and beautiful you are."

"Just like last night," San adds, bracing his hands on Yeosang's sides as he sits up straighter on his knees, trying to angle his thrusts like he did the night before.

Wooyoung growls softly, his teeth grazing the shell of Yeosang's ear. "Will you come for me like that again, baby? Like you did the first time I ever put my dick in you?"

Yeosang's body shudders, the hand he has on San's arm squeezing tightly. "Maybe if, if you say what you said then," he chokes out. "Do, do you remember?"

Wooyoung huffs a strangely pained breath. "Of course I do," he answers lowly, barely loud enough for San to hear.

San doesn't speak, just keeps moving, filling Yeosang up over and over, watching the faces of the men he loves, pleasure and emotion written on their features.

"Say, say it again," Yeosang pleads, turning his head as much as he can in Wooyoung's direction, his cheek bumping Wooyoung's nose.

Wooyoung pulls back so Yeosang can look at him, their dark eyes locked, faces only a breath apart. "I came here for you," he whispers, halting and breathless. "I don't want to do this without you. I don't want to do anything without you."

Yeosang sucks in a sharp breath. "Yes, fuck, keep going," he groans, gaze still on Wooyoung but his fingers clutching at San's forearm, the message clearly meant for both of them.

"I want you so much," Wooyoung rasps, licking his lips. "I couldn't stand it when you left. It tore me apart."

"God, you're both so beautiful," San murmurs, forgetting himself, overwhelmed by the intimacy of the moment. He keeps snapping his hips forward, driving himself into Yeosang as the heat of his impending orgasm collects low in his belly.

"Please," Yeosang begs, gasping softly. "Please."

"I need you," Wooyoung breathes, tipping his chin so he can bump his and Yeosang's mouths together in a shallow kiss. "I love you, Sang-ah. I love you."

Yeosang's body trembles, his muscles contracting, heels digging into San's legs and hands gripping San's arms as he pulls San close. His mouth is still bumped up against Wooyoung's when he comes half a second later, their lips colliding when he tilts his chin and moans throatily, ass clenching so hard around San's cock San's vision goes spotty and the air rushes hotly from his lungs.

Wooyoung and Yeosang are kissing when San blinks his eyes back into focus, their mouths meeting over and over, messy and desperate, the sight of it sending a shiver down the length of San's spine. He feels hot all over, prickly, at the razor's edge of his own release, right there, so close. All he needs is the smallest nudge.

It happens only a few seconds later, Wooyoung nipping at Yeosang's lower lip and startling a gasp out of him, his body tensing. And San, buried inside, feels it all the way to his toes, his body bowing as he fights to hold himself up on shaking arms, the flood of his pleasure rushing up around him and threatening to carry him away.

"God, you're both so fucking gorgeous," San hears Wooyoung groan a moment later beyond the ringing in his ears. "I'm so fucking lucky."

"Do you want me to do it?" Yeosang asks and it takes San's endorphin-addled brain a full thirty seconds before he figures out what Yeosang means, finally noticing Wooyoung's hand down between his own legs, pumping his dick.

"No," Wooyoung grits out as San lowers himself shakily to his forearms. "Fuck, I'm already so close, I just need, I need–"

"That's it, baby," San says in a rough whisper, reaching down to grip the base of his dick as he slides out of Yeosang carefully. "You're almost there. Gonna look so pretty when you come for us."

"Fuck," Wooyoung whines, ducking his head and knocking his brow against the curve of Yeosang's shoulder.

"You're so sexy," Yeosang joins in, tipping his head to press his face against Wooyoung's hair. "I love getting to see you like this, getting to touch you, getting to make you feel good."

San swallows, shifting back onto his knees just long enough to reposition himself more at Yeosang's other side, resting his shoulder and hip on the mattress, settling his pelvis against Yeosang's thigh. "You're amazing," he tells Wooyoung, stretching out to wrap his arm around Wooyoung's waist, tugging him closer. "You're amazing and beautiful and I love you so much."

Wooyoung moans, pressing his face against Yeosang's arm as he strokes himself faster, his hair clinging to his sweaty skin. "Fuck, please, please."

"Me too, I love you too," Yeosang murmurs against Wooyoung's damp hairline, his deep voice resonating lowly. "Come on, Young-ah. Let go, come for us."

Wooyoung's voice breaks when he cries out, the first spurt of come shooting hard enough to stripe the width of Yeosang's abdomen, the next one spattering Yeosang's side. San pets Wooyoung's trembling back as he strokes himself through it, Yeosang pressing soft kisses to Wooyoung's overheated forehead until he finally relaxes, panting as he sags heavily into the mattress.

The three of them are quiet for a minute while they catch their breath. San leans up enough to slip off the condom, tossing it haphazardly over the side of the bed before laying his head on Yeosang's shoulder and closing his eyes, letting himself drift a little, his mind going peacefully blank as he listens to Yeosang's heartbeat. He's practically dozing when the mattress shudders, Wooyoung shifting to mirror San's position on Yeosang's other shoulder.

"I still can't believe you guys thought I'd be mad at you," Wooyoung says after another few seconds of silence, his hand finding San's where it's resting on Yeosang's chest and tangling their fingers together.

"You got mad at me like three weeks ago for falling asleep in San's bed," Yeosang replies mildly, his voice rumbling beneath San's ear.

"I wasn't mad," Wooyoung argues. "I was sad because I wanted to cuddle you that night but you never came back to our room."

Yeosang's chest rises and falls under San's head as he sighs. "You gave me the silent treatment for hours the next day."

"That's because I'm a brat," Wooyoung says with a squeaky laugh. "You should be used to that by now."

"I've been waiting seven years for you to grow out of that," Yeosang replies long-sufferingly. "I have no idea how I've managed to put up with it for so long."

When San opens his eyes he sees Wooyoung looking at him, his mouth stretched in a wide grin. San can't help smiling back, his heart instantly filling with warmth.

"You love me," Wooyoung answers Yeosang. "That's how."

"Ugh," Yeosang groans dramatically. "You're right."

"Usually am," Wooyoung says, trailing off into a yawn. "I love you too though, so we're even at least."

Wooyoung holds San's gaze, his eyes glittering with mischief, starry with love, and San is overwhelmed with fondness, bursting with the need to make his own declarations. "I love you," he tells Wooyoung, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Wooyoung's nose. "And I love you," he goes on, tilting his head to bump his lips against the underside of Yeosang's jaw.

Yeosang hums, his fingers slipping into San's hair as he ducks to kiss San's forehead, his breath brushing warmly over San's skin as he whispers, "Love you."

"Why does he get 'love you' and I get 'ugh?'" Wooyoung complains under his breath.

"Because he's not a brat," Yeosang replies, tipping his head in Wooyoung's direction and pressing a smacking kiss to one of Wooyoung's scowling eyebrows. "And you know I love you. You just said so."

Wooyoung's mouth twists into a petulant frown. "Doesn't mean I don't want to hear you say it."

Yeosang makes a low sound of exasperation at the back of his throat. "You're the most frustrating person I've ever met, Jung Wooyoung," he says. "You constantly drive me crazy, but I love you. I love you so much and I've loved you for so long that I don't remember what it's like to not love you. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep loving you for the rest of my life. That good enough for you?"

Wooyoung exhales a heavy, shaky breath. "Yeah, that. That was pretty good."

"Good," Yeosang replies. "Now can you guys please get up? My arms are starting to go numb and I really have to pee."

"Wow, way to ruin the romance," Wooyoung complains, rolling off Yeosang's shoulder and flopping onto his back on the mattress.

"It's way more romantic than me wetting the bed," Yeosang retorts, sharing a grin with San as they untangle themselves from each other so he can sit up. The mattress bounces beneath them as Yeosang scoots to the edge, San's gaze dropping to ogle his cute little ass as he pushes himself standing on wobbly legs.

"I don't know," Wooyoung replies, watching Yeosang head into the bathroom before rolling onto his side to grab his phone from the nightstand. "Some people are into that kind of thing."

San blinks owlishly at the expanse of Wooyoung's naked back. "Wait, seriously?"

"Oh totally," Wooyoung says, attention still on his phone. "There's like even a special term for it."

San feels his mouth drop open, mind reeling as he tries to process this new information. "Do, uh. Are you, um, are you into it?"

Wooyoung huffs a laugh, tipping onto his back so he can meet San's eyes. "Nah," he answers easily. "Though I guess I haven't really thought about it much, so maybe I am, who knows."

"Wow, I just–" San stammers, shaking his head in disbelief. "How do you know about all this stuff?"

"He watches a lot of porn," Yeosang calls from the bathroom.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. "'A lot' to Yeosang is, like, any," he says. "Did you know the first time he ever watched porn was with me?"

"We were sixteen," Yeosang argues, the bathroom tap running for a few seconds before shutting off again. "Also he tricked me into watching it," he adds a moment later as he comes back out of the bathroom.

"I did not," Wooyoung disagrees, sitting up so he can glare at Yeosang. "I asked if you wanted to watch and you said yes."

"You asked if I wanted to watch a sexy video," Yeosang says, propping his hands on his naked hips. "I thought it was going to be a Soyou fancam or something."

Wooyoung scowls. "Yeah well I don't remember you asking me to turn it off."

Yeosang presses his lips together and lowers his eyes, the tips of his ears turning bright red. "You know why I didn't."

San shifts his focus from Yeosang's flushed face to Wooyoung's little smirk then back again. "Why didn't you?" he asks, excited to hear a story about the two of them he's somehow never heard before.

"He liked it," Wooyoung answers.

"I didn't," Yeosang counters. "I liked you."

Wooyoung's mouth twitches into a smirk. "That is true," he confirms.

"Did you know that when you made him watch porn with you?" San asks.

"I had a hunch," Wooyoung replies. "And I didn't make him do anything. I would have turned it off if he'd wanted me to."

"Were you trying to see if it freaked him out or something? Like to see two dudes having sex together?"

Wooyoung barks a laugh. "It wasn't gay porn."

"Also you're giving him way too much credit," Yeosang adds. "He didn't have a plan. He just wanted to watch porn with a boy he liked."

Wooyoung bites his lip, a pink blush rising to his cheeks. "He's not wrong," he admits, gazing at Yeosang shyly.

San can't help the smile that spreads across his face. "That's the cutest story I've ever heard."

"Cute?" Yeosang echoes, his eyebrows lifting. "We were crammed into the top bunk of the world's smallest bunkbed watching terrible straight porn on Wooyoung's tiny little phone screen an hour before we had to be up for school. It was definitely not cute."

"It was kind of cute," Wooyoung protests. "You were adorable, all sweet and flustered."

"You suck," Yeosang fires back. "I hate you."

"No you don't," Wooyoung replies, rolling to his knees and shuffling to the end of the bed so he can loop his arms around Yeosang's waist. "You just told me you were going to love me forever, remember?"

"I wasn't in my right mind when I said that," Yeosang protests, his lips twitching as he fights a smile. "I was coerced. It was probably the orgasm hormones that made me say it."

"Uh uh," Wooyoung says, shaking his head. "You meant it. I could tell. Sannie could too, right Sannie?"

"Totally genuine," San answers with a nod. "No lies detected."

Wooyoung grins triumphantly. "Ah ha, two against one! You have to love me forever. No take-backs."

Yeosang groans, his shoulders slumping as Wooyoung tugs him closer, nuzzling his face into Yeosang's abdomen. "Fine, I'll love you forever," he relents, resting his hands on Wooyoung's shoulders. "But only if you promise to love me back."

Wooyoung sighs happily, propping his chin on Yeosang's belly to peer up the length of Yeosang's torso at his face. "I promise."

"And San has to be there too," Yeosang adds, turning his head to meet San's eyes.

"Of course," Wooyoung says, pressing his cheek to Yeosang's stomach so he can look back at San himself. "As long as it's okay with San."

They're playing, San knows that, but there's something about the look on their faces, expressions just a little too serious, the hope in their eyes too clear to not be real. It makes something thick rise in the back of San's throat, his heart skipping in his chest.

Crawling to the foot of the bed, San wraps one arm around Yeosang's middle, cupping his other hand over the back of Wooyoung's neck. "It's okay with me," he says, meeting Wooyoung's eyes first, then Yeosang's, smiling widely enough to show his dimples.

"Then it's settled," Wooyoung announces, shifting to snake his arm around San's waist and pull him close. "The three of us will be together forever."

Yeosang slings his arm across San's shoulders, his lips pressed into a cute, shy grin as he leans down to kiss San's cheek. "Forever," he murmurs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Forever," San echoes, smiling back at Yeosang before turning his gaze to Wooyoung, curling his fingers into the hair at Wooyoung's nape.

Wooyoung only tightens his grip, pulling both San and Yeosang into an even fiercer embrace.

"That's right," he says with a firm nod. "No take-backs."