Black Day: Please

Apr 12, 2016 07:19

Author: tixing
Title: Please (AO3 mirror)
Base fic: Tripping (onto your dick) by tixing
Rating: NC-17
Focus: Suho/Lay; OT3
Length: 1k
Summary: It’s been months, and it’s still hard.
Tags: smut, nc-17, polyamory, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood, [Spoiler (click to open)]character death

Notes: I don’t like angst and that’s why this is only 1,000 words. Idk if this is creepy btw. I tried to write this as obscurely as possible, to be honest.



Junmyeon pushes Yixing into the wall, both men grasping at each other with frantic hands.

“Yixing,” Junmyeon gasps into Yixing’s mouth, fingers fumbling with the other man’s fly.

Jongdae folds himself around Junmyeon’s back and helps his boyfriend undo Yixing’s jeans, his own hands much more steady than Junmyeon’s. Yixing watches their movements dumbly, legs spread to accommodate the thigh Junmyeon has wedged between them.

“Yixing, tell me if you want to stop,” says Junmyeon, and Yixing shakes his head.

“Don’t stop,” he says, pushing his jeans halfway down his legs before he attacks Junmyeon’s pants. “Don’t stop, Junmyeon.”

Jongdae wraps an arm around Junmyeon’s front, his other hand reaching up to card through Junmyeon’s hair. Junmyeon surges forward to meet Yixing in a messy kiss, and Yixing moans when he bites his lip harshly.

When Yixing gets on the bed, Jongdae pets his cheeks gently as Junmyeon retrieves a condom and lube from the bedside drawer. The preparation is hasty, Yixing snatching the lube from Junmyeon early and forcing himself to accommodate two fingers hurriedly, before prompting Junmyeon to join in with a third finger a few moments later.

“Yixing,” Jongdae says warningly, not wanting him to hurt himself, but Yixing shakes his head and rolls his hips down onto the fingers inside him desperately.

It’s been too long since they’ve had sex, and he needs to get this out of his system before he loses his nerve. Junmyeon’s on the same wavelength as Yixing, pushing a fourth finger into him and only hesitating for a second to attain approval before he spreads his fingers and fucks into Yixing firmly.

The penetration follows in a similar fashion. Junmyeon shoves into Yixing, imprecise and rough, and Yixing grasps at him with frantic hands. Jongdae lies next to Yixing, hand stroking Yixing’s side aimlessly, wishing the two of them would slow down and appreciate each other instead of trying to use each other up.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck-” Yixing huffs, and Junmyeon lets out a low groan of pleasure.

Junmyeon reaches up blindly and wraps his hand around the side of Yixing’s neck. Yixing looks up with adoration and trust, eyes fluttering closed as Junmyeon’s thumb moves to obstruct his breathing. Jongdae watches both of them to gauge their reactions and determine if he should step in and stop them.

“Shit,” Junmyeon swears quietly, thrusts growing more forceful.

“Oh,” Yixing sighs, voice stumbling out of his restricted throat.

“Yes, Yixing,” Junmyeon moans, small, distressed noises escaping from him with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck-”

Yixing echoes him, high, cut-off sounds being spat from his parted lips as Junmyeon moves inside him. When Junmyeon’s hand tightens, Yixing’s eyes fly open as he clenches tightly, “Fuck, Junmyeon, fuck!”

Junmyeon halts in his movements suddenly, slamming his hand down on the bed next to Yixing’s ear and breathing harshly through his nose. He looks at Yixing, startled, and Yixing stares back at him, eyes wide, while Jongdae frowns at the two of them. Junmyeon ducks his head and moves his hips in a couple of aborted movements, before stopping completely and looking at Yixing with regret.

“I can’t, Yixing, I can’t,” Junmyeon cries, and Yixing tries to shake him, tries to move his hips against Junmyeon’s cock.

“Junmyeon, please,” Yixing begs, thumbing aimlessly at Junmyeon’s chest. He tries to kiss him, but Junmyeon turns his head away, eyes cast down on the sheets.

“I can’t,” he whispers.

Yixing bites his lip, blinks as his eyes sting. “…Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon pulls out and turns around so that he’s sitting on the end of the bed, his back to Yixing. He rips the condom off and throws it in the general direction of the waste bin, frustrated. Yixing closes his legs and sits up, shuffling up the the head of the bed, feeling small. Jongdae thumbs Yixing’s bottom lip and kisses it sweetly, wishing he could help.

Yixing stares at the mussed sheets, unseeing, for a few minutes, letting Jongdae rub comforting circles into his back. Junmyeon lets out a choked sound, the only sign that he’s crying, and Yixing looks up with a start. After a moment of consideration, he scoots to the foot of the bed and wraps his arms around his boyfriend.

“Junmyeon,” he coos in an attempt to comfort him.

“I miss him,” Junmyeon says, voice thick with tears, and Jongdae’s heart clenches. “I still miss him, and it’s been months,” Junmyeon sighs quietly in resignation.

Yixing starts crying again, remembering the stench of burnt rubber and ignited gasoline, and the wet, wet feeling of blood drenching his hands and clothes. “I’m sorry I can’t-I can’t be-”

I’m sorry I’m not Jongdae.

Junmyeon shushes him even through his own sobs, turning to Yixing to push him down on the bed and pull his body flush to him, “No, Yixing. I still have you, Yixing. I still have you.”

“It’s not the same,” Yixing whispers, voice soggy. He still scrubs his hands every day, still feels the blood coating his fingers, still wishes he’d been a better driver, even though the police confirmed it wasn’t his fault. “It’s not the same.”

Junmyeon hesitates, then nods sadly, tucking his head into Yixing’s neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Yixing whispers, voice tripping on itself. He says softly, almost afraid of speaking aloud, “I’m sorry, Jongdae.”

Jongdae shakes his head, shushes both of them and wills them to stop their sobs. He gathers both of them into his arms, “I’m here, darlings. I’m here.”

ot3, r3, 2016, lay/suho

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