[fic] emotional blackmail. your move (3/3)
title: the seduction of adrenaline 3/3 "playing with fire"
fandom: RPF Infinite
characters: Dongwoo (ot7)
word count: ~2100
total word count: ~6200
summary: everyone wants Dongwoo. crack UST, cat-play, dom/sub, naptime, gyu being squishy, Dongwoo's perspective, sex happens
a/n: still not really sure if this is how I was expecting it to turn out, but it's 1230a and the damn thing needs to get posted and be done. sorry it took so long to finish. hope this doesn't disappoint! (ps. porn is hard)
part one: everyone wants dongwoo
part two: the truth was, dongwoo wasn't asleep
[playing with fire]Playing with Fire
Sungjong waited patiently for Myungsoo to crawl out from wherever he was and make his way to the main room. If he was anything, Sungjong was patient. He had proved that in the past month, with them all circling around each other like trapped idiots.
Anyway, it was too delicious a picture to not enjoy. Woohyun’s sweaty arm straining as he held Dongwoo to his chest, his fingers splayed across the smaller man’s mouth. Sunggyu and Sungyeol each with an arm in hand - making Dongwoo appear infinitesimally small, their hands and arms a contrast to his.
And Hoya. His pretty Hoya, the hair at the base of his neck still curling with sweat, his hands on each of Dongwoo’s knees, splaying him open, exposing a hard, long cock to the still air.
Sungjong took a moment to gloat at the sight. At Dongwoo’s hardness raised high like a white flag of surrender.
He wasn’t stupid. He had noticed Dongwoo’s growing aggression for months now. He crackled with energy, even as his face and eyes only showed the sweet mask that everyone took for granted. This wasn’t surrender.
It was seduction.
And damn if it didn’t work perfectly.
Sungjong was half tempted to take Hoya’s place. To let the older boy enter him as he took Dongwoo into his mouth and sucked hard. Too hard. Too fast. Too rough.
But he could wait.
Everyone had been playing it too soft.
It was up to him to bring out Dongwoo’s darkness.
And they’d all revel in it.
He felt a presence at his leg, Myungsoo was rubbing up against him nervously, naked.
First things first.
Sungjong crouched down, gently placed the collar on his neck before taking Myungsoo’s face in his hands, “Kitten? I don’t want you to be scared, okay?” He heard Woohyun take in a quick breath. Damnit Namstar, Hoya isn’t the only one who is allowed to care about Myungsoo. “Tell me what you do if it gets scary.”
Myungsoo gulped, his eyes flickering to the group on the floor silently watching him and then back to Sungjong, “I take my collar off.”
Hoya reached out with one hand, they were just within reach, and ran a finger down his jawline, “And if you can’t reach it?”
Myungsoo blinked at him, “I call for you.”
Hoya just smiled and nodded.
The answer was so simple, so child-like, it seemed to sober everyone for a moment.
Sungjong ruffled his hair, “Good kitten.” He stood up and glared down at the group, Hoya’s hand once again resting on Dongwoo’s knee. There was understanding there, now. They probably could have gone on without it, but Myungsoo’s safety - his trust - needed to be a public statement in its own way. In a way that nothing else needed to be.
So that they all knew he cared for Myungsoo’s safety more than theirs.
Sungjong pulled gently on the collar and sat down on the chair, Myungsoo scrambling after him, lying his head against the chair softly and calmly, his fear completely gone.
The maknae smiled his sticky sweet smile, “Well, hyungs. What are you waiting for?”
* * * * * * *
Hoya’s lips and tongue were soft and warm. Sometimes his wit sparkled a little too sharply, sometimes his movements were a little too rough - as if he was young animal grown large and still learning his own strength.
Dongwoo had always imagined that sex with Hoya would feel that way - the man’s tongue rough against his sensitive skin, going slightly too hard too fast, slightly indelicate and full of that sharpness that so defined his personality.
There were fingers and mouths everywhere, but Dongwoo’s attention was centered on the light, slow pressure that Hoya was building with his softness. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the steady pressure of Woohyun’s hand over his mouth made him feel secure, even with eyes closed and his senses assaulted in every possible way. Someone was panting near his ear, there was the soft sound of clothes being ripped off unceremoniously, the delighted keening of Myungsoo off in the distance, but they were dimmed by that soft, slow tongue.
Dongwoo squeezed his eyes shut tighter and arched his back, thrusting himself further into Hoya’s mouth, half-hoping that the younger man choked a little, that he would feel the splutter of breath against his sensitive skin, half-hoping that he didn’t wish to hurt someone like that. But he didn’t.
There is a sharp graze instead of unending softness and a deep groan tumbles into Woohyun’s fingers. The sharp pain causes a tightness in his chest, he’s getting close to something he might just be able to hold onto. Hoya’s teeth nicking him as he lurches forward for more, he can almost taste blood, the hands stroking him grow firmer, pressing him down. He’s vaguely aware of Sungjong’s lazy voice seeping through the blood pounding in his ears.
And then just like that, everything is empty. There are no hands at his sides. No tongue lazily teasing him. No hand comfortingly protecting him from exposing the breathless sounds erupting from his lips.
Dongwoo opens his eyes slowly, confused; his hands instinctively reaching up to find Woohyun’s, his lifeline in what will possibly prove to be the most confusing and complicated event in his life.
But Woohyun is standing across the room, behind Sungjong’s chair, holding a naked Sunggyu to his chest and whispering (or singing) something softly in his ear; Sungyeol standing behind him, tall and regal. Hoya is standing at Dongwoo’s feet, a sly smile on his face. Sungjong is still in his chair - the only one still left in any state of dress - and looks less than amused.
Dongwoo confusedly grasps wildly for something, anything to say. Anything to bring Woohyun back, his chest pressing into his back and his hand cupping his face.
But he can’t think of anything and the blood is rushing in his ears and he’s so hard it hurts (why are they all standing around naked like that?) and this isn’t enough - it won’t be enough and he should have known that, and he starts to feel so stupid, sitting on the floor of the living room naked and hard and maybe there are tears trickling down his face but he can’t tell anymore and no longer cares, so he growls out, “You are all so fucking soft.”
Woohyun’s muscles flex slightly as his arms tightened around Sunggyu, Sungyeol actually reaches down to put a hand on Myungsoo’s back. Hoya bites back a grin, but it’s a reaction meant only for Sungjong so Dongwoo doesn’t see it.
Not that he can see anything aside from the way everyone is cowering away from him.
Fucking idiots. Being ruled over by a pretentious maknae and a man who’d rather be a cat than be fucked. Was this really what he was waiting for?
Hoya leaned down, and there is a darkness in his eyes that makes Dongwoo think that maybe he accidentally spoke aloud (he didn’t, did he?), “If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask.”
And then Hoya backhanded Dongwoo right across the face, sending him sprawling backwards across the carpet.
Dongwoo jumped up, rubbing his face, expecting everyone to run to his defense. But they just stood there stoically watching.
Almost as if they had been waiting for this somehow.
Only the sting in his face is already almost gone, the lingering effect of it making Dongwoo only more desperate. He thinks he hears Sungjong mutter harshly, “How much is it going to take, you idiot?” but it is only a trick masked by his heavy breathing.
Hoya stands defensively like an ancient guard before the other men, daring Dongwoo to try to get past him. (Past him where, to his room where he can forget that he failed at this? Where he can forget that they had all turned on him just the way he always thought they might? He should have just stayed soft little Dongwoo a while longer.)
Dongwoo scans the room and catches Woohyun’s eyes, they are full of pity and regret.
His back is up against the wall, only there’s nothing behind him and only confusion ahead of him.
Out of the corner of his mind he feels it - the glittering ray of what he was looking for, an echo of something familiar. It’s there on the back of his tongue, like the lingering memory of a taste long forgotten. Only enough to drive up his desperation, without a word (and realizing that his reaction is almost comically slow - or was that span of time only a few seconds, when it seemed to last a few hours in his mind) he shoves Hoya violently, pushing him straight back.
Only Hoya was braced for it, ready, waiting. He pushes back roughly. There is a flicker of triumph in Dongwoo as he remembers the softness of Hoya’s mouth contrasted with this brute of male strength rising to meet him now.
And then their lips are meeting, Hoya’s teeth grinding into his lips, their tongues a tangle as their arms and legs continue to grapple for the upper hand. And then the image of Hoya wrestling with Woohyun in the hallway the previous evening slipped into Dongwoo’s mind, causing him to gasp and falter, his knees giving way - sending him crashing to the ground; Hoya dragged down beside him, his hands still rough against Dongwoo’s now limp limbs.
In a flash, Sungjong is grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, pulling Dongwoo’s lips away from Hoya’s onto his own and then roughly guiding them to his erect penis.
The scent and taste of Sungjong is nearly overpowering, filling him in ways he wasn’t quite prepared for. Hoya is standing now, his cock in Sungjong’s long, deft hands as they kiss long and deep. Nearly lost in their own world.
Almost as if they were just waiting for Dongwoo’s tantrum to pass Woohyun, Sungyeol, and Sunggyu’s hands and bodies return to his, wrapping him up - sometimes too soft, sometimes just a little too hard. Woohyun kneels behind him, kissing the back of his neck as he presses his chest into Dongwoo’s back. Myungsoo is scampering around biting everyone recklessly and possibly a little deliriously.
The rest is a blur of limbs and lips and fingers trailing long strokes.
Occasionally, someone forces Dongwoo back down, back up, back in position, guides his hands or his lips or his hips. From the nexus a set of handcuffs appear, making it easier for Hoya and Woohyun to keep control of Dongwoo, tempering his need for violence quickly, watching him closely with the others, providing the sting of hard metal on his wrist as a reminder of the rules.
Not in case of another outburst, that isn’t how it feels, Dongwoo thinks dreamily. But as if to be on hand in case he needs it.
Later he will remember the two of them, one inside of him, the other wrapped around him; he will remember a biting pain that ebbs and flows between complete calm - always one at his back and one always ahead, their hands reaching out to remind him of their strength.
There are moments of dead silence, the awkward giggle of condom wrappers being opened, the sweet scent of Sungjong’s lubricant that makes Dongwoo feel like they’ve stepped into a place where their apartment no longer represents or contains their whirlwind lives. At one point, Woohyun and Sunggyu almost seem to be building a chorus with their moans and it turns to a wordless song amidst the panting and laughing and groans.
Dongwoo grasps out for moments to remember, flashes to hold onto, in between the chaos.
Sungjong’s eyes darkening as Woohyun and Hoya pinch and bite Dongwoo into hoarse screams. The soft comfort of Sunggyu’s hand reaching out to him. Sungyeol’s long hair between his fingers. Woohyun being so hard on him, but taking Sunggyu with a delicacy of feeling, with Sungyeol looking on with a confused expression. Myungsoo growing tired of them all and falling asleep in a ball on the chair, naked except for the collar he never felt needed to be taken off. Sungjong’s delicate fingers, Hoya’s soft lips, Woohyun’s warm chest, Sunggyu’s patient hands, Sungyeol’s long hair - they all belong to the mob of sensation but are still intrinsically their own. Always a part of the whole but always, always representing their own selves.
But what Dongwoo will never forget is that every moment he felt that slow, quiet build, that had become so much a part of his daily existence, creeping into his chest; every moment when he began to feel like he needed to push out the energy and emptiness building up inside him, there was someone there with strong arms to push him back.
fandom: RPF Infinite
characters: Dongwoo (ot7)
word count: ~2100
total word count: ~6200
summary: everyone wants Dongwoo. crack UST, cat-play, dom/sub, naptime, gyu being squishy, Dongwoo's perspective, sex happens
a/n: still not really sure if this is how I was expecting it to turn out, but it's 1230a and the damn thing needs to get posted and be done. sorry it took so long to finish. hope this doesn't disappoint! (ps. porn is hard)
part one: everyone wants dongwoo
part two: the truth was, dongwoo wasn't asleep
[playing with fire]Playing with Fire
Sungjong waited patiently for Myungsoo to crawl out from wherever he was and make his way to the main room. If he was anything, Sungjong was patient. He had proved that in the past month, with them all circling around each other like trapped idiots.
Anyway, it was too delicious a picture to not enjoy. Woohyun’s sweaty arm straining as he held Dongwoo to his chest, his fingers splayed across the smaller man’s mouth. Sunggyu and Sungyeol each with an arm in hand - making Dongwoo appear infinitesimally small, their hands and arms a contrast to his.
And Hoya. His pretty Hoya, the hair at the base of his neck still curling with sweat, his hands on each of Dongwoo’s knees, splaying him open, exposing a hard, long cock to the still air.
Sungjong took a moment to gloat at the sight. At Dongwoo’s hardness raised high like a white flag of surrender.
He wasn’t stupid. He had noticed Dongwoo’s growing aggression for months now. He crackled with energy, even as his face and eyes only showed the sweet mask that everyone took for granted. This wasn’t surrender.
It was seduction.
And damn if it didn’t work perfectly.
Sungjong was half tempted to take Hoya’s place. To let the older boy enter him as he took Dongwoo into his mouth and sucked hard. Too hard. Too fast. Too rough.
But he could wait.
Everyone had been playing it too soft.
It was up to him to bring out Dongwoo’s darkness.
And they’d all revel in it.
He felt a presence at his leg, Myungsoo was rubbing up against him nervously, naked.
First things first.
Sungjong crouched down, gently placed the collar on his neck before taking Myungsoo’s face in his hands, “Kitten? I don’t want you to be scared, okay?” He heard Woohyun take in a quick breath. Damnit Namstar, Hoya isn’t the only one who is allowed to care about Myungsoo. “Tell me what you do if it gets scary.”
Myungsoo gulped, his eyes flickering to the group on the floor silently watching him and then back to Sungjong, “I take my collar off.”
Hoya reached out with one hand, they were just within reach, and ran a finger down his jawline, “And if you can’t reach it?”
Myungsoo blinked at him, “I call for you.”
Hoya just smiled and nodded.
The answer was so simple, so child-like, it seemed to sober everyone for a moment.
Sungjong ruffled his hair, “Good kitten.” He stood up and glared down at the group, Hoya’s hand once again resting on Dongwoo’s knee. There was understanding there, now. They probably could have gone on without it, but Myungsoo’s safety - his trust - needed to be a public statement in its own way. In a way that nothing else needed to be.
So that they all knew he cared for Myungsoo’s safety more than theirs.
Sungjong pulled gently on the collar and sat down on the chair, Myungsoo scrambling after him, lying his head against the chair softly and calmly, his fear completely gone.
The maknae smiled his sticky sweet smile, “Well, hyungs. What are you waiting for?”
* * * * * * *
Hoya’s lips and tongue were soft and warm. Sometimes his wit sparkled a little too sharply, sometimes his movements were a little too rough - as if he was young animal grown large and still learning his own strength.
Dongwoo had always imagined that sex with Hoya would feel that way - the man’s tongue rough against his sensitive skin, going slightly too hard too fast, slightly indelicate and full of that sharpness that so defined his personality.
There were fingers and mouths everywhere, but Dongwoo’s attention was centered on the light, slow pressure that Hoya was building with his softness. And somewhere in the back of his mind, the steady pressure of Woohyun’s hand over his mouth made him feel secure, even with eyes closed and his senses assaulted in every possible way. Someone was panting near his ear, there was the soft sound of clothes being ripped off unceremoniously, the delighted keening of Myungsoo off in the distance, but they were dimmed by that soft, slow tongue.
Dongwoo squeezed his eyes shut tighter and arched his back, thrusting himself further into Hoya’s mouth, half-hoping that the younger man choked a little, that he would feel the splutter of breath against his sensitive skin, half-hoping that he didn’t wish to hurt someone like that. But he didn’t.
There is a sharp graze instead of unending softness and a deep groan tumbles into Woohyun’s fingers. The sharp pain causes a tightness in his chest, he’s getting close to something he might just be able to hold onto. Hoya’s teeth nicking him as he lurches forward for more, he can almost taste blood, the hands stroking him grow firmer, pressing him down. He’s vaguely aware of Sungjong’s lazy voice seeping through the blood pounding in his ears.
And then just like that, everything is empty. There are no hands at his sides. No tongue lazily teasing him. No hand comfortingly protecting him from exposing the breathless sounds erupting from his lips.
Dongwoo opens his eyes slowly, confused; his hands instinctively reaching up to find Woohyun’s, his lifeline in what will possibly prove to be the most confusing and complicated event in his life.
But Woohyun is standing across the room, behind Sungjong’s chair, holding a naked Sunggyu to his chest and whispering (or singing) something softly in his ear; Sungyeol standing behind him, tall and regal. Hoya is standing at Dongwoo’s feet, a sly smile on his face. Sungjong is still in his chair - the only one still left in any state of dress - and looks less than amused.
Dongwoo confusedly grasps wildly for something, anything to say. Anything to bring Woohyun back, his chest pressing into his back and his hand cupping his face.
But he can’t think of anything and the blood is rushing in his ears and he’s so hard it hurts (why are they all standing around naked like that?) and this isn’t enough - it won’t be enough and he should have known that, and he starts to feel so stupid, sitting on the floor of the living room naked and hard and maybe there are tears trickling down his face but he can’t tell anymore and no longer cares, so he growls out, “You are all so fucking soft.”
Woohyun’s muscles flex slightly as his arms tightened around Sunggyu, Sungyeol actually reaches down to put a hand on Myungsoo’s back. Hoya bites back a grin, but it’s a reaction meant only for Sungjong so Dongwoo doesn’t see it.
Not that he can see anything aside from the way everyone is cowering away from him.
Fucking idiots. Being ruled over by a pretentious maknae and a man who’d rather be a cat than be fucked. Was this really what he was waiting for?
Hoya leaned down, and there is a darkness in his eyes that makes Dongwoo think that maybe he accidentally spoke aloud (he didn’t, did he?), “If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask.”
And then Hoya backhanded Dongwoo right across the face, sending him sprawling backwards across the carpet.
Dongwoo jumped up, rubbing his face, expecting everyone to run to his defense. But they just stood there stoically watching.
Almost as if they had been waiting for this somehow.
Only the sting in his face is already almost gone, the lingering effect of it making Dongwoo only more desperate. He thinks he hears Sungjong mutter harshly, “How much is it going to take, you idiot?” but it is only a trick masked by his heavy breathing.
Hoya stands defensively like an ancient guard before the other men, daring Dongwoo to try to get past him. (Past him where, to his room where he can forget that he failed at this? Where he can forget that they had all turned on him just the way he always thought they might? He should have just stayed soft little Dongwoo a while longer.)
Dongwoo scans the room and catches Woohyun’s eyes, they are full of pity and regret.
His back is up against the wall, only there’s nothing behind him and only confusion ahead of him.
Out of the corner of his mind he feels it - the glittering ray of what he was looking for, an echo of something familiar. It’s there on the back of his tongue, like the lingering memory of a taste long forgotten. Only enough to drive up his desperation, without a word (and realizing that his reaction is almost comically slow - or was that span of time only a few seconds, when it seemed to last a few hours in his mind) he shoves Hoya violently, pushing him straight back.
Only Hoya was braced for it, ready, waiting. He pushes back roughly. There is a flicker of triumph in Dongwoo as he remembers the softness of Hoya’s mouth contrasted with this brute of male strength rising to meet him now.
And then their lips are meeting, Hoya’s teeth grinding into his lips, their tongues a tangle as their arms and legs continue to grapple for the upper hand. And then the image of Hoya wrestling with Woohyun in the hallway the previous evening slipped into Dongwoo’s mind, causing him to gasp and falter, his knees giving way - sending him crashing to the ground; Hoya dragged down beside him, his hands still rough against Dongwoo’s now limp limbs.
In a flash, Sungjong is grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, pulling Dongwoo’s lips away from Hoya’s onto his own and then roughly guiding them to his erect penis.
The scent and taste of Sungjong is nearly overpowering, filling him in ways he wasn’t quite prepared for. Hoya is standing now, his cock in Sungjong’s long, deft hands as they kiss long and deep. Nearly lost in their own world.
Almost as if they were just waiting for Dongwoo’s tantrum to pass Woohyun, Sungyeol, and Sunggyu’s hands and bodies return to his, wrapping him up - sometimes too soft, sometimes just a little too hard. Woohyun kneels behind him, kissing the back of his neck as he presses his chest into Dongwoo’s back. Myungsoo is scampering around biting everyone recklessly and possibly a little deliriously.
The rest is a blur of limbs and lips and fingers trailing long strokes.
Occasionally, someone forces Dongwoo back down, back up, back in position, guides his hands or his lips or his hips. From the nexus a set of handcuffs appear, making it easier for Hoya and Woohyun to keep control of Dongwoo, tempering his need for violence quickly, watching him closely with the others, providing the sting of hard metal on his wrist as a reminder of the rules.
Not in case of another outburst, that isn’t how it feels, Dongwoo thinks dreamily. But as if to be on hand in case he needs it.
Later he will remember the two of them, one inside of him, the other wrapped around him; he will remember a biting pain that ebbs and flows between complete calm - always one at his back and one always ahead, their hands reaching out to remind him of their strength.
There are moments of dead silence, the awkward giggle of condom wrappers being opened, the sweet scent of Sungjong’s lubricant that makes Dongwoo feel like they’ve stepped into a place where their apartment no longer represents or contains their whirlwind lives. At one point, Woohyun and Sunggyu almost seem to be building a chorus with their moans and it turns to a wordless song amidst the panting and laughing and groans.
Dongwoo grasps out for moments to remember, flashes to hold onto, in between the chaos.
Sungjong’s eyes darkening as Woohyun and Hoya pinch and bite Dongwoo into hoarse screams. The soft comfort of Sunggyu’s hand reaching out to him. Sungyeol’s long hair between his fingers. Woohyun being so hard on him, but taking Sunggyu with a delicacy of feeling, with Sungyeol looking on with a confused expression. Myungsoo growing tired of them all and falling asleep in a ball on the chair, naked except for the collar he never felt needed to be taken off. Sungjong’s delicate fingers, Hoya’s soft lips, Woohyun’s warm chest, Sunggyu’s patient hands, Sungyeol’s long hair - they all belong to the mob of sensation but are still intrinsically their own. Always a part of the whole but always, always representing their own selves.
But what Dongwoo will never forget is that every moment he felt that slow, quiet build, that had become so much a part of his daily existence, creeping into his chest; every moment when he began to feel like he needed to push out the energy and emptiness building up inside him, there was someone there with strong arms to push him back.