Chain Me (to You) EXTRAS 1
Title: -
Rating: pg to nc-17
Pairing: sukaiho (jongin/joonmyun/suho)
Summary: the boys dye their hair. and get comfy with jongin.
Warnings: incest/twincest, past prostitution, some master-slave relationships
some little ficlets set in this au.
PROMPT: what if jongin’s father made the twins dye their hair and suho was supposed to be red and joonmyun was supposed to be blond
Suho makes a derisive noise. "I’m not dyeing my hair."
He stands in front of the mirror, scowling at his reflection. Joonmyun peeps over his shoulder and looks up at his twin’s dark, tousled hair.
"But it would look nice," he says, tilting his head in confusion. "What’s so bad about it?"
"I don’t care if he’s giving us away to his son or whatever, or if he thinks his son has so much cabbage for brains that he won’t be able to tell us apart without different hair colours-"
Joonmyun gasps. “Suho!” He looks around their bedroom apprehensively, as if the walls have eyes. “What if someone hears you?”
There’s probably nobody within earshot, except the servant always stationed outside their room, who was generally half-asleep most of the time. The twins’ room is their safe haven in Mr Kim’s concrete prison of a mansion.
Suho scowls some more and Joonmyun pulls on his brother’s sleeve imploringly.
"Can’t you just do what he wants?" Joonmyun pleads. "You don’t have a choice anyway. And it’s not like he’s asking you to do something like - like-"
Suho huffs and folds his arms. “Red, Joon,” he says, turning away from the mirror. He crosses the room and flops onto the bed in a grumpy manner.
Joonmyun follows him. “But red is nice,” he comments. “I would like red if the master didn’t want me blond.”
Suho fixes him with a look that spelled ‘you’re missing the point’. “The asshole wants me red because he’s mocking me,” he snipes. “The spitfire.” He snatches one of the pillows and puts it over his face, grumbling endlessly into it.
"…Oh." Joonmyun reaches over and removes the fluffy object, peering at his twin with a trace of horror in his eyes. "Does that mean he’s mocking me too, if my hair is supposed to be a symbol of purity?"
Suho doesn’t mean to snort but it accidentally comes out anyway. “You’re about as pure,” he says pointedly, “as the prostitution house we wasted all those years in. Your face is just cute.”
Joonmyun rolls away and crawls under the covers, hugging his pillow to his chest. “I don’t want to dye my hair either,” he mumbles. It’s almost an exact replica of the scene that had transpired in front of the mirror a minute ago.
Suho watches him closely for a long time, eyeing the way Joonmyun’s shoulders are drawn up to his neck and his fetus-shrimp position. He exhales through his nose, gets under the blankets and hooks an arm around Joonmyun’s waist to pull him closer. He drops a soft kiss behind Joonmyun’s ear.
"Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out," he promises. "You won’t be blond tomorrow, okay?"
It goes along smoothly, so smoothly that Suho’s tempted to think that the joke’s on him. The chauffeur drives them to the salon in the morning. The servant accompanying them walks up to the counter to engage the stylist behind it and Suho sees a flash of banknotes being exchanged.
"Right," she says cheerfully, after pocketing the money safely, "who’s going blond?"
"Joonmyun," the servant prompts, glancing at the twins. He’ll let the less-bratty boy go first while he keeps the difficult one distracted.
Joonmyun wrings his hands nervously and swallows.
"Sure," Suho says brightly, suddenly flashing a winning smile, and Joonmyun’s eyes go round as saucers. He doesn’t even have time to do a decent goldfish impression because the stylist’s already dragging Suho over to the chair, and the servant’s grabbing Joonmyun’s arm to haul him over to the benches where waiting patrons were sitting. A small voice in his head reminds him that he could be facing dire consequences for this, but he catches Suho giving him a small smile in the mirror and he relaxes.
Joonmyun doesn’t realize that he’s supposed to be playing his role in this shenanigan as well until he sees from the corner of his eye that the servant beside him is giving him strange looks. Only then does he remember with a sinking feeling that he’s meant to be Suho, so he does the best grumpy Suho face he can back at the man. Thankfully, the old fart rolls his eyes but doesn’t push the matter, although he does give Joonmyun wary glances from time to time like he’s expecting an explosive tantrum out of the blue.
But when Suho’s done, Joonmyun really thinks he does look amazing blond, but carefully frowns to look like he doesn’t approve at all. Suho can see him fighting all the emotions and they both know he’s trying not to laugh.
Their master sees right through it.
"You brat," he says, shaking his head and pointing a finger at Suho, "you’re not Joonmyun."
Suho freezes, rooted to the ground.
Joonmyun peeks timidly from under his newly-red fringe and nearly has a heart attack when he notices Mr. Kim isn’t angry, but watching them with slight amusement. He pulls at Suho’s arm.
Mr. Kim coughs hard, wheezing at the transient pain in his chest, before his expression is back to normal again. “Don’t scowl so hard, Joonmyun,” he chastises. “You’ll never look like your brother like that.”
"I’m sorry," Joonmyun automatically squeaks, face going the same shade as his hair.
“It’s unbecoming and unsettling. Don’t think that I don’t know your faces just because I don’t know your bodies.” Mr. Kim waves a hand and the maid opens the door. “Call this your first victory if you wish, but it will be your only one.”
PROMPT: none for this one because it was written as punishment porn for someone who did bad things to me. this prompt happens somewhere after the sexy times
In retrospect, Jongin really should have seen this coming. Since that night, which all three of them seemed hesitant to ever mention, the twins had gotten mighty comfortable with him.
Joonmyun had woken up the following morning because his legs were awfully cold and realized he was almost half-dangling off the side of the bed. They were probably going to have to get a bigger one in the future if this was happening again.
He’d rolled back into the cozy confines to find his twin still asleep, body pressed up against Jongin’s and an arm haphazardly thrown around his hips. Suho’s face was placid in his sleep and his expression was smoothed out, content even, and he looked so much younger without his constant frown. It had made Joonmyun’s insides go warm and mushy, and he’d hoped Suho and Jongin had maybe finally made their peace.
Jongin equates Suho’s upheaval in behaviour change to some invisible see-saw suddenly tipping in his favour, or some unseen light switch being flipped on; the blond still tended to trail after his twin like a protective shadow, but he was happy to join them at meals or on the couch at night, where he and Joonmyun would playfully fight for Jongin’s affections.
Jongin lets them come to business meetings and the like - or at least the ones where he knows nobody will be drawing their guns - so they at least have something to do to pass the time. He has to maintain his image after all, and it had turned out that there were several others who had been friends with the old boss and knew Jongin was in possession of his father’s pets.
What did you do with them, boy? one had asked. I’d be glad to take them off your hands if you ain’t using them.
Jongin had taken to bringing the twins along whenever he could; it made him look like somebody with the power to make others submit, somebody who had people falling to their knees with a snap of his fingers. But sometimes having the twins accompany him wasn’t the best idea; a number of potential dealerships and agreements had taken hours to procure because some middle-aged pervert had been too busy leering at the boys to think straight. Suho had been sure his face was going to be frozen permanently from so much glaring.
They’re at a meeting with several executives today, spread around plush leather couches in one of the VIP rooms of Jongin’s favourite clubs. The serving girls ply them with plenty of drinks and the floor hums quietly from the music below.
Joonmyun remains quiet, head in Jongin’s lap and Jongin’s fingers running through his hair, listening vaguely to the discussion but not absorbing any of it.
Suho is burrowed into Jongin’s other side and staring daggers at the wife of some rich fat man. She’s been ogling Jongin for far too long, so Suho rectifies the situation by sliding an arm around Jongin’s torso in a deliberate show of possession.
Jongin notices and easily connects the dots. The wife blushes and looks away. He has to brush her off again after the meeting, when she tries to corner him away from the twins in a dark spot in the club.
“Really, I must decline your invitation,” he insists as politely as he can, and Suho swallows down the urge to smirk at her because he just felt Jongin’s grip tighten around his wrist. “You should go. Mr. Choi will be wondering where you’ve gone, I’m sure.”
She looks offended and stomps away, flipping her hair over her shoulder as her heels clack against the floor.
Jongin reprimands him as soon as they’re in the car. “Don’t think I can’t see your possessive streak,” he says warningly.
Joonmyun is confused, but Suho feigns nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jongin snorts and shakes his head. He’ll let it slide this time.
Sometimes the twins come to his room at night, and they fuck. Sometimes Jongin’s cold, empty bed isn’t attractive, or sometimes Jongin has long days and needs a way to unwind. He calls and they come; he doesn’t call and they still come - but he’s happy to oblige.
He thinks that’s what’s made them complacent, even spoiled a little, because Jongin’s starting to find it harder and harder to resist them when they want it. They’re fulfilling their roles as pets but they’re turning into teases, being fleeting and elusive, leaving Jongin’s imagination to go wild when he catches them doing something they probably shouldn’t be and watching Suho dragging Joonmyun off to the twins’ bedroom. They are ex-whores after all, he supposes with much amusement, and he was ready to bet that they even got off on having so much power over him.
Jongin’s come home to them tangled up in each other in the lounge, mouths on skin and hands on flesh, but he’s walked in on them in less compromising positions, like Joonmyun just pressing small kisses against Suho’s lips and the two of them sharing smiles that made him feel a little left out.
He could get angry and ban all of this and demand that they stop fucking around with each other (and his head) immediately, and they’d more or less obey, but he finds that he doesn’t really have the heart to.
He goes to check on them one night because he’s been out all day at Kris’s HQ, opening the door just a crack so he doesn’t spook the boys by barging in.
It’s all too much like the first time he’d seen them like this.
Joonmyun’s not even fully undressed, his pants lying on the floor somewhere and his shirt snagged on one shoulder. Jongin’s eyes fix themselves to the pale, glistening curve of the boy’s back as he spreads his legs on all fours with his ass as high in the air. Joonmyun muffles his screams of pleasure into a pillow while Suho pounds into him from behind.
Jongin palms at the uncomfortable bulge that’s suddenly developed in his crotch and rips his eyes away from the scene. He could leave now, stay or enter that room-
He finds himself unable to stop watching.
Joonmyun’s fingers scrabble for purchase in the sheets. “Harder,” he begs desperately, trying to force himself back on Suho’s cock, “fuck me harder- ” He turns his head, gasping in air, catching sight of them fucking in the floor-length mirror. He sees the snap of Suho’s hips, Suho’s cock being sucked in by his greedy hole, disappearing and reappearing again, and he’s so close to coming.
Jongin rubs harder at his crotch, trying to get off quickly by imagining himself as the one fucking Joonmyun senseless, hearing Joonmyun crying for him to fuck him harder and harder, begging so shamelessly for his holes to be stuffed with cock; he thinks he’s really underestimated the red-haired twin’s innocent face.
“Look, Joon, he’s watching us,” Suho snickers, and Jongin bolts upright, his heart racing as he meets the blond’s eyes.
Suho’s gaze is relentlessly fierce, reeking of complete domination, challenging every last measure of Jongin’s self-control. A small smile plays on his lips. “You want to join?” he drawls.
And only then does Jongin know that it’s not a question, but a taunt - that this is Suho’s game - and as soon as he gives in, he’s lost.
But he can’t make himself walk away.
more from the twins!au
Rating: pg to nc-17
Pairing: sukaiho (jongin/joonmyun/suho)
Summary: the boys dye their hair. and get comfy with jongin.
Warnings: incest/twincest, past prostitution, some master-slave relationships
some little ficlets set in this au.
PROMPT: what if jongin’s father made the twins dye their hair and suho was supposed to be red and joonmyun was supposed to be blond
Suho makes a derisive noise. "I’m not dyeing my hair."
He stands in front of the mirror, scowling at his reflection. Joonmyun peeps over his shoulder and looks up at his twin’s dark, tousled hair.
"But it would look nice," he says, tilting his head in confusion. "What’s so bad about it?"
"I don’t care if he’s giving us away to his son or whatever, or if he thinks his son has so much cabbage for brains that he won’t be able to tell us apart without different hair colours-"
Joonmyun gasps. “Suho!” He looks around their bedroom apprehensively, as if the walls have eyes. “What if someone hears you?”
There’s probably nobody within earshot, except the servant always stationed outside their room, who was generally half-asleep most of the time. The twins’ room is their safe haven in Mr Kim’s concrete prison of a mansion.
Suho scowls some more and Joonmyun pulls on his brother’s sleeve imploringly.
"Can’t you just do what he wants?" Joonmyun pleads. "You don’t have a choice anyway. And it’s not like he’s asking you to do something like - like-"
Suho huffs and folds his arms. “Red, Joon,” he says, turning away from the mirror. He crosses the room and flops onto the bed in a grumpy manner.
Joonmyun follows him. “But red is nice,” he comments. “I would like red if the master didn’t want me blond.”
Suho fixes him with a look that spelled ‘you’re missing the point’. “The asshole wants me red because he’s mocking me,” he snipes. “The spitfire.” He snatches one of the pillows and puts it over his face, grumbling endlessly into it.
"…Oh." Joonmyun reaches over and removes the fluffy object, peering at his twin with a trace of horror in his eyes. "Does that mean he’s mocking me too, if my hair is supposed to be a symbol of purity?"
Suho doesn’t mean to snort but it accidentally comes out anyway. “You’re about as pure,” he says pointedly, “as the prostitution house we wasted all those years in. Your face is just cute.”
Joonmyun rolls away and crawls under the covers, hugging his pillow to his chest. “I don’t want to dye my hair either,” he mumbles. It’s almost an exact replica of the scene that had transpired in front of the mirror a minute ago.
Suho watches him closely for a long time, eyeing the way Joonmyun’s shoulders are drawn up to his neck and his fetus-shrimp position. He exhales through his nose, gets under the blankets and hooks an arm around Joonmyun’s waist to pull him closer. He drops a soft kiss behind Joonmyun’s ear.
"Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out," he promises. "You won’t be blond tomorrow, okay?"
It goes along smoothly, so smoothly that Suho’s tempted to think that the joke’s on him. The chauffeur drives them to the salon in the morning. The servant accompanying them walks up to the counter to engage the stylist behind it and Suho sees a flash of banknotes being exchanged.
"Right," she says cheerfully, after pocketing the money safely, "who’s going blond?"
"Joonmyun," the servant prompts, glancing at the twins. He’ll let the less-bratty boy go first while he keeps the difficult one distracted.
Joonmyun wrings his hands nervously and swallows.
"Sure," Suho says brightly, suddenly flashing a winning smile, and Joonmyun’s eyes go round as saucers. He doesn’t even have time to do a decent goldfish impression because the stylist’s already dragging Suho over to the chair, and the servant’s grabbing Joonmyun’s arm to haul him over to the benches where waiting patrons were sitting. A small voice in his head reminds him that he could be facing dire consequences for this, but he catches Suho giving him a small smile in the mirror and he relaxes.
Joonmyun doesn’t realize that he’s supposed to be playing his role in this shenanigan as well until he sees from the corner of his eye that the servant beside him is giving him strange looks. Only then does he remember with a sinking feeling that he’s meant to be Suho, so he does the best grumpy Suho face he can back at the man. Thankfully, the old fart rolls his eyes but doesn’t push the matter, although he does give Joonmyun wary glances from time to time like he’s expecting an explosive tantrum out of the blue.
But when Suho’s done, Joonmyun really thinks he does look amazing blond, but carefully frowns to look like he doesn’t approve at all. Suho can see him fighting all the emotions and they both know he’s trying not to laugh.
Their master sees right through it.
"You brat," he says, shaking his head and pointing a finger at Suho, "you’re not Joonmyun."
Suho freezes, rooted to the ground.
Joonmyun peeks timidly from under his newly-red fringe and nearly has a heart attack when he notices Mr. Kim isn’t angry, but watching them with slight amusement. He pulls at Suho’s arm.
Mr. Kim coughs hard, wheezing at the transient pain in his chest, before his expression is back to normal again. “Don’t scowl so hard, Joonmyun,” he chastises. “You’ll never look like your brother like that.”
"I’m sorry," Joonmyun automatically squeaks, face going the same shade as his hair.
“It’s unbecoming and unsettling. Don’t think that I don’t know your faces just because I don’t know your bodies.” Mr. Kim waves a hand and the maid opens the door. “Call this your first victory if you wish, but it will be your only one.”
PROMPT: none for this one because it was written as punishment porn for someone who did bad things to me. this prompt happens somewhere after the sexy times
In retrospect, Jongin really should have seen this coming. Since that night, which all three of them seemed hesitant to ever mention, the twins had gotten mighty comfortable with him.
Joonmyun had woken up the following morning because his legs were awfully cold and realized he was almost half-dangling off the side of the bed. They were probably going to have to get a bigger one in the future if this was happening again.
He’d rolled back into the cozy confines to find his twin still asleep, body pressed up against Jongin’s and an arm haphazardly thrown around his hips. Suho’s face was placid in his sleep and his expression was smoothed out, content even, and he looked so much younger without his constant frown. It had made Joonmyun’s insides go warm and mushy, and he’d hoped Suho and Jongin had maybe finally made their peace.
Jongin equates Suho’s upheaval in behaviour change to some invisible see-saw suddenly tipping in his favour, or some unseen light switch being flipped on; the blond still tended to trail after his twin like a protective shadow, but he was happy to join them at meals or on the couch at night, where he and Joonmyun would playfully fight for Jongin’s affections.
Jongin lets them come to business meetings and the like - or at least the ones where he knows nobody will be drawing their guns - so they at least have something to do to pass the time. He has to maintain his image after all, and it had turned out that there were several others who had been friends with the old boss and knew Jongin was in possession of his father’s pets.
What did you do with them, boy? one had asked. I’d be glad to take them off your hands if you ain’t using them.
Jongin had taken to bringing the twins along whenever he could; it made him look like somebody with the power to make others submit, somebody who had people falling to their knees with a snap of his fingers. But sometimes having the twins accompany him wasn’t the best idea; a number of potential dealerships and agreements had taken hours to procure because some middle-aged pervert had been too busy leering at the boys to think straight. Suho had been sure his face was going to be frozen permanently from so much glaring.
They’re at a meeting with several executives today, spread around plush leather couches in one of the VIP rooms of Jongin’s favourite clubs. The serving girls ply them with plenty of drinks and the floor hums quietly from the music below.
Joonmyun remains quiet, head in Jongin’s lap and Jongin’s fingers running through his hair, listening vaguely to the discussion but not absorbing any of it.
Suho is burrowed into Jongin’s other side and staring daggers at the wife of some rich fat man. She’s been ogling Jongin for far too long, so Suho rectifies the situation by sliding an arm around Jongin’s torso in a deliberate show of possession.
Jongin notices and easily connects the dots. The wife blushes and looks away. He has to brush her off again after the meeting, when she tries to corner him away from the twins in a dark spot in the club.
“Really, I must decline your invitation,” he insists as politely as he can, and Suho swallows down the urge to smirk at her because he just felt Jongin’s grip tighten around his wrist. “You should go. Mr. Choi will be wondering where you’ve gone, I’m sure.”
She looks offended and stomps away, flipping her hair over her shoulder as her heels clack against the floor.
Jongin reprimands him as soon as they’re in the car. “Don’t think I can’t see your possessive streak,” he says warningly.
Joonmyun is confused, but Suho feigns nonchalance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jongin snorts and shakes his head. He’ll let it slide this time.
Sometimes the twins come to his room at night, and they fuck. Sometimes Jongin’s cold, empty bed isn’t attractive, or sometimes Jongin has long days and needs a way to unwind. He calls and they come; he doesn’t call and they still come - but he’s happy to oblige.
He thinks that’s what’s made them complacent, even spoiled a little, because Jongin’s starting to find it harder and harder to resist them when they want it. They’re fulfilling their roles as pets but they’re turning into teases, being fleeting and elusive, leaving Jongin’s imagination to go wild when he catches them doing something they probably shouldn’t be and watching Suho dragging Joonmyun off to the twins’ bedroom. They are ex-whores after all, he supposes with much amusement, and he was ready to bet that they even got off on having so much power over him.
Jongin’s come home to them tangled up in each other in the lounge, mouths on skin and hands on flesh, but he’s walked in on them in less compromising positions, like Joonmyun just pressing small kisses against Suho’s lips and the two of them sharing smiles that made him feel a little left out.
He could get angry and ban all of this and demand that they stop fucking around with each other (and his head) immediately, and they’d more or less obey, but he finds that he doesn’t really have the heart to.
He goes to check on them one night because he’s been out all day at Kris’s HQ, opening the door just a crack so he doesn’t spook the boys by barging in.
It’s all too much like the first time he’d seen them like this.
Joonmyun’s not even fully undressed, his pants lying on the floor somewhere and his shirt snagged on one shoulder. Jongin’s eyes fix themselves to the pale, glistening curve of the boy’s back as he spreads his legs on all fours with his ass as high in the air. Joonmyun muffles his screams of pleasure into a pillow while Suho pounds into him from behind.
Jongin palms at the uncomfortable bulge that’s suddenly developed in his crotch and rips his eyes away from the scene. He could leave now, stay or enter that room-
He finds himself unable to stop watching.
Joonmyun’s fingers scrabble for purchase in the sheets. “Harder,” he begs desperately, trying to force himself back on Suho’s cock, “fuck me harder- ” He turns his head, gasping in air, catching sight of them fucking in the floor-length mirror. He sees the snap of Suho’s hips, Suho’s cock being sucked in by his greedy hole, disappearing and reappearing again, and he’s so close to coming.
Jongin rubs harder at his crotch, trying to get off quickly by imagining himself as the one fucking Joonmyun senseless, hearing Joonmyun crying for him to fuck him harder and harder, begging so shamelessly for his holes to be stuffed with cock; he thinks he’s really underestimated the red-haired twin’s innocent face.
“Look, Joon, he’s watching us,” Suho snickers, and Jongin bolts upright, his heart racing as he meets the blond’s eyes.
Suho’s gaze is relentlessly fierce, reeking of complete domination, challenging every last measure of Jongin’s self-control. A small smile plays on his lips. “You want to join?” he drawls.
And only then does Jongin know that it’s not a question, but a taunt - that this is Suho’s game - and as soon as he gives in, he’s lost.
But he can’t make himself walk away.
more from the twins!au