[ fic ] touch to see
B1A4 | cnu/gongchan, cnu/jinyoung, everyone/everyone | NC-17 | 2,200 w
warnings/notes: group sex, blindfolds
there are five of them but it's not really messy. and then it's just the two of them.
He’s here because of Jinyoung. Dongwoo has no idea who else is here, if he knows anyone else, with the blindfold on he’s not even sure how many people there are. He feels a hand on his naked shoulder, guiding him forward, lips hovering a breath away from his ear.
It’s Jinyoung.
“If it’s too much just say my name, we’ll stop.”
Dongwoo nods and says nothing because the altar does not speak. He hears the others talk in whispers over him every so often but their voices are too hushed and low for him to even count them. Jinyoung guides him to kneel and then there’s nothing for a moment.
He breathes in sharply, a little too loudly, when he feels someone touch him, light fingertips tracing his shoulders and then gliding down his back, a warm palm settling at the small of his back. There are lips against his clavicle and fingers drawing patterns on his stomach. Three pairs of hands and a warm wet mouth and then more; it’s definitely not just Jinyoung anymore.
He reaches out to steady himself against someone and grasps nothing but air until someone takes his hand in theirs, puts it on their shoulder.
It’s Jinyoung, maybe.
But there’s someone kissing his shoulder and someone sliding a hand between his thighs and a hand on his ass. There could be three people or there could be more, Dongwoo has no way of knowing, and even if he did he’d have no way of knowing which hand is Jinyoung, if any of them are.
Someone guides him to sit and then lies him down on his back. Dongwoo doesn’t quite lean all the way back, his head kind of hovering over someone’s lap, not until firm hands press him down by his shoulders. There’s a dick against his cheek and a pair of hands, the hands that pushed him down, sliding down his torso, shoulder to chest to stomach and then the sides of his hips.
Someone makes a sound, louder than the whispers, a deep rumbling hum and Dongwoo looks around even though he can’t see.
There’s a touch on his cheek, it trails down his jaw and subtly turns his head.
“Open.”
It’s Jinyoung, the one speaking to him, but there’s no way to know if it’s his dick barely touching Dongwoo’s parted lips.
He stops caring for a moment, closes his eyes behind the blindfold as he cradles the tip in his mouth. There’s a hand in his hair, light and not demanding at all, pushing it back and away from his face. There’s a mouth kissing his chest and a tongue licking the inside of his thigh.
For a moment there are no people but Dongwoo; it’s just him and faceless bodies, playing a game by himself. He imagines shadow hands touching him, holding him down, shadow mouths kissing him, eating him. And it’s surprisingly easy to sink into it. The sensations fold and layer over him, almost overwhelming but then someone shushes him gently when Dongwoo whimpers around the cock in his mouth and pulls him back before he can drown under it.
There are fingers flitting against his temple, light and barely there, like feathers. He opens his eyes and blinks against the blindfold even though he can’t see.
There are purpling bruises all along his collar and shoulders. Dongwoo touches each of them after he washes up, blinks at the mirror and counts them as he wonders if they’re from one person or two or three or four.
He wears a dress shirt buttoned all the way up the next day and he’ll probably have to stay covered up for the rest of the week.
“How are you feeling?”
Jinyoung’s hand drops heavily on Dongwoo’s shoulder and he jumps. He looks at Jinyoung and, surprisingly, it’s not awkward. He was expecting to feel embarrassed or unsure or something, but he doesn’t feel much of anything even though yesterday he’d laid himself out naked in front of Jinyoung and a bunch of strangers.
Dongwoo smiles at the concern and lightly pats Jinyoung’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay.”
“Would you be up for it again?”
He thinks about it for a moment. He thinks about sucking dicks, plural. He thinks about jerking someone off while someone else fucks his thighs and he has his face buried in still another person’s lap, trying his damnest not to moan. He’d been ridiculously messy afterwards, thighs slick and sticky. Someone, several someones, had come on him. On his face and in his hair, in his hand, on his chest, on his stomach and on his ass, he’d lost count of how many times. One person came in his mouth, fingers twitching in his hair, and he’d swallowed it. Dongwoo had licked his lips, tilted his head and opened his mouth to show them.
“Yeah. Sure.”
That’s all they say about it that day but Jinyoung texts him the time and place later.
They meet once a week and including him there are five of them, usually. Sometimes there are one or two more people but they’re not consistent and Dongwoo forgets their faces quickly. Usually it’s the five of them. They don’t do introductions but he learns their names eventually, and other things, through hushed whispers and warm skin.
It’s a different hotel each time and they do their business on fresh black sheets, one of them in the middle, the altar, blindfolded with a black scarf. It gives them structure. Even though there are five of them tangled together there’s a comforting sort of order to the whole event. It’s messy but at the same time it’s not. They don’t talk much beforehand and not at all after. They take their time, hours, and then everyone leaves quietly except whoever was their center, he gets to stay behind to clean himself up, rest after everything’s done if he feels like.
And except for Jinyoung they take turns, Dongwoo had his turn the first time so this week it’s someone else.
Three of them are naked, waiting. This is the most awkward part. Dongwoo still has his glasses on and he pushes at the frame. He glances up and one of them is staring at him, Dongwoo looks away quickly, removing his glasses as if that achieves more than making things a little blurry at the edges. Thankfully, Jinyoung never leaves them waiting long.
Jinyoung guides their altar in, naked and blindfolded, with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe it’s because he can’t see but Dongwoo feels free to look now. His eyes are covered so something’s missing but Dongwoo takes a moment to appreciate his softly curved face and full plump lips. He’s smiling, completely at ease as Jinyoung leads him onto the bed.
“Sit down by him,” someone whispers into Dongwoo’s ear, makes him jump a little. It’s the one that was looking at him before and he has his hands on Dongwoo’s shoulder, guiding him forward until he’s next to their altar’s head, reaches around him to drape Dongwoo’s still soft dick across his face.
Dongwoo presses a hand to his face and tries not to hide. Jinyoung laughs, quiet and soft, and the other one snorts. Dongwoo looks over his shoulder at the man behind him, his lips are curled in an amused grin.
Junghwan is the one they fuck that day. Everyone calls him Junghwannie in affectionate whispers, they squeeze and grab at him with firmness that borders on rough. He likes it like that, they assure Dongwoo. Chansik practically feeds Junghwan Dongwoo’s dick while Sunwoo pinches at his nipples and his waist and thighs until Junghwan is squeaking around Dongwoo’s cock. Jinyoung doesn’t shush him, no one does.
Junghwan is all throaty moans and wordless whines through it all, he squeals and he yelps. It would be completely pointless to try to quiet him. Dongwoo lies on his side, watching, as they're winding down. Chansik is half kissing Junghwan, half licking cum off his face. He pulls back when Jinyoung settles next to Junghwan, knees just barely touching Junghwan’s side.
Jinyoung jerks off with one hand and pets Junghwan’s hair and cheek with the other. Everyone else just watches along with Dongwoo. They watch as Jinyoung comes all over Junghwan’s sweaty, flushed skin and they're done.
It’s not what Dongwoo would have expected, if he’d let himself dwell on it enough to expect anything. Their group of five fits together in a surprisingly natural way. There are rules, yes, but it’s structured around them.
And even though, other than Jinyoung, they’re basically strangers to Dongwoo he grows fond of them, in a way; he gets to know them, in a way.
Like how Junghwan touches with his mouth more than with his hands, and he’s pretty sure Sunwoo is the one that jerks off into a fistful of his hair while Chansik is the one that runs his fingers through his hair even when it’s tangled and clumpy with sweat and semen. He knows little things about them that normal acquaintances would never learn. It’s far from conventional but Dongwoo likes it, there’s no point in questioning it.
The first time Dongwoo fucks Chansik he reaches up and out for his face, pushes his fingers through Dongwoo’s hair. Chansik is blindfolded so he can’t actually see, but he must know that it’s Dongwoo by the length of his hair. He’s near silent as Dongwoo eases his cock into him, fingers gripping at his hips, but when Dongwoo stops for a breath, for a beat - Chansik is grinning at him.
“Chansik asked for your number,” Jinyoung tells Dongwoo over lunch. They’re at a noodle place close to where they work, squeezed into a corner by the lunch hour rush.
“Is it okay if I give it to him?”
Dongwoo is a bit surprised because he isn’t sure how that would fit into their arrangement. He isn’t sure what ‘that’ exactly is, or rather what it would lead to. There is a lot of room for overthinking, but that’s what he does for a living, not for this.
He shrugs a bit and works to swallow a mouthful of noodles.
“Sure.”
Jinyoung is smiling at him when he glances over and Dongwoo feels sure that Jinyoung doesn’t ever have to wonder or overthink like Dongwoo does, he just knows.
“Hello.”
Dongwoo recognises the voice, though he can’t say it’s familiar. He’s only heard the voice speak to him in whispers and murmurs.
“Um. Hi.”
“It’s Chansik.”
He hasn’t been waiting for the call exactly but perhaps he should have been expecting it since he gave Jinyoung the okay to pass on his phone number to Chansik. But he wasn’t expecting it, not really, so he has no idea what might pass. He didn’t bother to wonder what Chansik might have wanted from him and for a few heartbeats he wishes he’d spent a little bit of time thinking about it.
“Hi?”
He already said that. On the other end Chansik laughs, hoarse and forced.
“Should I hang up?”
“No,” Dongwoo blurts out quickly at the suggestion, loud. “It’s fine. I mean there’s no reason to, really, you don’t have to. Um.” He breathes, and tries to recall how he usually holds conversations with people at work. He can’t remember at all.
“Do you have some time right now?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
It’s a little bit like the first time they met, or maybe it counts as the second.
Dongwoo invites Chansik to his apartment and he’s strangely surprised when Chansik shows up in front of his door in a coat and scarf and clothes. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in clothes. This is the most awkward part.
He takes Chansik’s coat and scarf, underneath he’s wearing a gray sweater and dark jeans. It’s strange, but just for a moment, just for however long it takes them to figure out how to fit together without three other bodies with them.
They do it their way, doing everything they usually don’t when it’s five of them. It’s just the two of them so they strip each other in steps, as if to create a new ritual. Chansik presses his lips to Dongwoo’s skin after undoing each button, mouths at Dongwoo’s cock through his underwear as he unzips him.
And when they kiss they keep their eyes open. Dongwoo can feel Chansik’s eyelashes flutter against the bridge of his nose when he blinks.
They lie down on their sides, knees and feet touching. Chansik runs his hand through Dongwoo’s hair. His fingers flit against his temples, down his cheek and along his jaw, touch light and barely there, like feathers. And they watch each other. Dongwoo presses his hand against Chansik’s chest, rubs his thumb against the jut of his clavicle. He slides his hand down, tracing the definition of Chansik’s abdomen. He watches his hand move and he sees as much as he feels Chansik against his palm and his fingertips.
Dongwoo’s eyes are opened behind the blindfold, he’s leaning back against someone’s chest and someone else is licking his balls, another someone nipping at his neck.
And then there’s a hand brushing back his hair, pressing his warm soft palm against Dongwoo’s cheek. Dongwoo leans into the touch and reaches to touch his fingers to that hand. It’s Chansik.
warnings/notes: group sex, blindfolds
there are five of them but it's not really messy. and then it's just the two of them.
He’s here because of Jinyoung. Dongwoo has no idea who else is here, if he knows anyone else, with the blindfold on he’s not even sure how many people there are. He feels a hand on his naked shoulder, guiding him forward, lips hovering a breath away from his ear.
It’s Jinyoung.
“If it’s too much just say my name, we’ll stop.”
Dongwoo nods and says nothing because the altar does not speak. He hears the others talk in whispers over him every so often but their voices are too hushed and low for him to even count them. Jinyoung guides him to kneel and then there’s nothing for a moment.
He breathes in sharply, a little too loudly, when he feels someone touch him, light fingertips tracing his shoulders and then gliding down his back, a warm palm settling at the small of his back. There are lips against his clavicle and fingers drawing patterns on his stomach. Three pairs of hands and a warm wet mouth and then more; it’s definitely not just Jinyoung anymore.
He reaches out to steady himself against someone and grasps nothing but air until someone takes his hand in theirs, puts it on their shoulder.
It’s Jinyoung, maybe.
But there’s someone kissing his shoulder and someone sliding a hand between his thighs and a hand on his ass. There could be three people or there could be more, Dongwoo has no way of knowing, and even if he did he’d have no way of knowing which hand is Jinyoung, if any of them are.
Someone guides him to sit and then lies him down on his back. Dongwoo doesn’t quite lean all the way back, his head kind of hovering over someone’s lap, not until firm hands press him down by his shoulders. There’s a dick against his cheek and a pair of hands, the hands that pushed him down, sliding down his torso, shoulder to chest to stomach and then the sides of his hips.
Someone makes a sound, louder than the whispers, a deep rumbling hum and Dongwoo looks around even though he can’t see.
There’s a touch on his cheek, it trails down his jaw and subtly turns his head.
“Open.”
It’s Jinyoung, the one speaking to him, but there’s no way to know if it’s his dick barely touching Dongwoo’s parted lips.
He stops caring for a moment, closes his eyes behind the blindfold as he cradles the tip in his mouth. There’s a hand in his hair, light and not demanding at all, pushing it back and away from his face. There’s a mouth kissing his chest and a tongue licking the inside of his thigh.
For a moment there are no people but Dongwoo; it’s just him and faceless bodies, playing a game by himself. He imagines shadow hands touching him, holding him down, shadow mouths kissing him, eating him. And it’s surprisingly easy to sink into it. The sensations fold and layer over him, almost overwhelming but then someone shushes him gently when Dongwoo whimpers around the cock in his mouth and pulls him back before he can drown under it.
There are fingers flitting against his temple, light and barely there, like feathers. He opens his eyes and blinks against the blindfold even though he can’t see.
There are purpling bruises all along his collar and shoulders. Dongwoo touches each of them after he washes up, blinks at the mirror and counts them as he wonders if they’re from one person or two or three or four.
He wears a dress shirt buttoned all the way up the next day and he’ll probably have to stay covered up for the rest of the week.
“How are you feeling?”
Jinyoung’s hand drops heavily on Dongwoo’s shoulder and he jumps. He looks at Jinyoung and, surprisingly, it’s not awkward. He was expecting to feel embarrassed or unsure or something, but he doesn’t feel much of anything even though yesterday he’d laid himself out naked in front of Jinyoung and a bunch of strangers.
Dongwoo smiles at the concern and lightly pats Jinyoung’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay.”
“Would you be up for it again?”
He thinks about it for a moment. He thinks about sucking dicks, plural. He thinks about jerking someone off while someone else fucks his thighs and he has his face buried in still another person’s lap, trying his damnest not to moan. He’d been ridiculously messy afterwards, thighs slick and sticky. Someone, several someones, had come on him. On his face and in his hair, in his hand, on his chest, on his stomach and on his ass, he’d lost count of how many times. One person came in his mouth, fingers twitching in his hair, and he’d swallowed it. Dongwoo had licked his lips, tilted his head and opened his mouth to show them.
“Yeah. Sure.”
That’s all they say about it that day but Jinyoung texts him the time and place later.
They meet once a week and including him there are five of them, usually. Sometimes there are one or two more people but they’re not consistent and Dongwoo forgets their faces quickly. Usually it’s the five of them. They don’t do introductions but he learns their names eventually, and other things, through hushed whispers and warm skin.
It’s a different hotel each time and they do their business on fresh black sheets, one of them in the middle, the altar, blindfolded with a black scarf. It gives them structure. Even though there are five of them tangled together there’s a comforting sort of order to the whole event. It’s messy but at the same time it’s not. They don’t talk much beforehand and not at all after. They take their time, hours, and then everyone leaves quietly except whoever was their center, he gets to stay behind to clean himself up, rest after everything’s done if he feels like.
And except for Jinyoung they take turns, Dongwoo had his turn the first time so this week it’s someone else.
Three of them are naked, waiting. This is the most awkward part. Dongwoo still has his glasses on and he pushes at the frame. He glances up and one of them is staring at him, Dongwoo looks away quickly, removing his glasses as if that achieves more than making things a little blurry at the edges. Thankfully, Jinyoung never leaves them waiting long.
Jinyoung guides their altar in, naked and blindfolded, with an arm around his shoulder. Maybe it’s because he can’t see but Dongwoo feels free to look now. His eyes are covered so something’s missing but Dongwoo takes a moment to appreciate his softly curved face and full plump lips. He’s smiling, completely at ease as Jinyoung leads him onto the bed.
“Sit down by him,” someone whispers into Dongwoo’s ear, makes him jump a little. It’s the one that was looking at him before and he has his hands on Dongwoo’s shoulder, guiding him forward until he’s next to their altar’s head, reaches around him to drape Dongwoo’s still soft dick across his face.
Dongwoo presses a hand to his face and tries not to hide. Jinyoung laughs, quiet and soft, and the other one snorts. Dongwoo looks over his shoulder at the man behind him, his lips are curled in an amused grin.
Junghwan is the one they fuck that day. Everyone calls him Junghwannie in affectionate whispers, they squeeze and grab at him with firmness that borders on rough. He likes it like that, they assure Dongwoo. Chansik practically feeds Junghwan Dongwoo’s dick while Sunwoo pinches at his nipples and his waist and thighs until Junghwan is squeaking around Dongwoo’s cock. Jinyoung doesn’t shush him, no one does.
Junghwan is all throaty moans and wordless whines through it all, he squeals and he yelps. It would be completely pointless to try to quiet him. Dongwoo lies on his side, watching, as they're winding down. Chansik is half kissing Junghwan, half licking cum off his face. He pulls back when Jinyoung settles next to Junghwan, knees just barely touching Junghwan’s side.
Jinyoung jerks off with one hand and pets Junghwan’s hair and cheek with the other. Everyone else just watches along with Dongwoo. They watch as Jinyoung comes all over Junghwan’s sweaty, flushed skin and they're done.
It’s not what Dongwoo would have expected, if he’d let himself dwell on it enough to expect anything. Their group of five fits together in a surprisingly natural way. There are rules, yes, but it’s structured around them.
And even though, other than Jinyoung, they’re basically strangers to Dongwoo he grows fond of them, in a way; he gets to know them, in a way.
Like how Junghwan touches with his mouth more than with his hands, and he’s pretty sure Sunwoo is the one that jerks off into a fistful of his hair while Chansik is the one that runs his fingers through his hair even when it’s tangled and clumpy with sweat and semen. He knows little things about them that normal acquaintances would never learn. It’s far from conventional but Dongwoo likes it, there’s no point in questioning it.
The first time Dongwoo fucks Chansik he reaches up and out for his face, pushes his fingers through Dongwoo’s hair. Chansik is blindfolded so he can’t actually see, but he must know that it’s Dongwoo by the length of his hair. He’s near silent as Dongwoo eases his cock into him, fingers gripping at his hips, but when Dongwoo stops for a breath, for a beat - Chansik is grinning at him.
“Chansik asked for your number,” Jinyoung tells Dongwoo over lunch. They’re at a noodle place close to where they work, squeezed into a corner by the lunch hour rush.
“Is it okay if I give it to him?”
Dongwoo is a bit surprised because he isn’t sure how that would fit into their arrangement. He isn’t sure what ‘that’ exactly is, or rather what it would lead to. There is a lot of room for overthinking, but that’s what he does for a living, not for this.
He shrugs a bit and works to swallow a mouthful of noodles.
“Sure.”
Jinyoung is smiling at him when he glances over and Dongwoo feels sure that Jinyoung doesn’t ever have to wonder or overthink like Dongwoo does, he just knows.
“Hello.”
Dongwoo recognises the voice, though he can’t say it’s familiar. He’s only heard the voice speak to him in whispers and murmurs.
“Um. Hi.”
“It’s Chansik.”
He hasn’t been waiting for the call exactly but perhaps he should have been expecting it since he gave Jinyoung the okay to pass on his phone number to Chansik. But he wasn’t expecting it, not really, so he has no idea what might pass. He didn’t bother to wonder what Chansik might have wanted from him and for a few heartbeats he wishes he’d spent a little bit of time thinking about it.
“Hi?”
He already said that. On the other end Chansik laughs, hoarse and forced.
“Should I hang up?”
“No,” Dongwoo blurts out quickly at the suggestion, loud. “It’s fine. I mean there’s no reason to, really, you don’t have to. Um.” He breathes, and tries to recall how he usually holds conversations with people at work. He can’t remember at all.
“Do you have some time right now?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
It’s a little bit like the first time they met, or maybe it counts as the second.
Dongwoo invites Chansik to his apartment and he’s strangely surprised when Chansik shows up in front of his door in a coat and scarf and clothes. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in clothes. This is the most awkward part.
He takes Chansik’s coat and scarf, underneath he’s wearing a gray sweater and dark jeans. It’s strange, but just for a moment, just for however long it takes them to figure out how to fit together without three other bodies with them.
They do it their way, doing everything they usually don’t when it’s five of them. It’s just the two of them so they strip each other in steps, as if to create a new ritual. Chansik presses his lips to Dongwoo’s skin after undoing each button, mouths at Dongwoo’s cock through his underwear as he unzips him.
And when they kiss they keep their eyes open. Dongwoo can feel Chansik’s eyelashes flutter against the bridge of his nose when he blinks.
They lie down on their sides, knees and feet touching. Chansik runs his hand through Dongwoo’s hair. His fingers flit against his temples, down his cheek and along his jaw, touch light and barely there, like feathers. And they watch each other. Dongwoo presses his hand against Chansik’s chest, rubs his thumb against the jut of his clavicle. He slides his hand down, tracing the definition of Chansik’s abdomen. He watches his hand move and he sees as much as he feels Chansik against his palm and his fingertips.
Dongwoo’s eyes are opened behind the blindfold, he’s leaning back against someone’s chest and someone else is licking his balls, another someone nipping at his neck.
And then there’s a hand brushing back his hair, pressing his warm soft palm against Dongwoo’s cheek. Dongwoo leans into the touch and reaches to touch his fingers to that hand. It’s Chansik.