Work Text:
Seonghwa has decided to bar any bulls from entering his cottage today. Or — Yeosang has decided that for him. Weeks with bulls invading his space had made Seonghwa irritable in a way that only other cows are privy to. Yeosang had picked up on it first, and so with a stern look in his eyes, he’d ushered all bulls away from Seonghwa’s bed and slammed the door in their faces. For the rest of the morning, he’d opened the windows and leaned out, glaring down at any visitors with a gaze so icy, many of them had turned-tail and ran immediately. Any poor lingerers got an earful of Yeosang’s favourite obscenities and harshest insults. By noon the bulls stopped showing up.
Despite Yeosang’s less-than-agreeable methods, Seonghwa is grateful he’d looked out for him today. A few hours of rest is all he really craves, and a lull in his heat is the perfect time to take it. He reclines in his living room loveseat and lets Yeosang fuss over him, bringing him lemonade and talking to him in low tones about how stupid rut-brained men can be. It makes him feel better. Being around someone who gets it for once is just enough to break the monotony and annoyingness of the whole thing.
The day slows as the afternoon pulls on, and Seonghwa drifts in and out of consciousness, laid out and relaxed by the breeze of his open window. Yeosang’s visits become less frequent, Seonghwa’s refills of lemonade come further and farther between, and it’s only when he cracks his eyes open after a nap to look for a water glass that he realizes Yeosang isn’t there at all.
“Sangie?” Seonghwa calls, figuring he’s disappeared somewhere else in his cottage. Yeosang is a busybody, anyway. Knowing him, he’d probably gotten bored and rushed off to clean Seonghwa’s windows, or something. He hopes he hasn’t, he thinks, snorting at the image. Yeosang is such a handful at times. Seonghwa groans lowly as he stands, straightening his sweatshirt around his shoulders and setting off in search of his friend.
He’s still shaky and sweaty, but feels considerably better after a day of rest and easy company. His heat is dormant (for now), but as he noses his way into his bedroom and smells the blazing scent of someone else’s, Seonghwa can feel his instincts stirring awake in the pit of his stomach. He swears under his breath, looking up with wide eyes to find Yeosang panting with his face pressed into Seonghwa’s pillow and a scowl painted across his face. Seonghwa’s shoulders droop in realization, and Yeosang rushes to spit out an embarrassed explanation.
“I came in here to tidy up for you, and you set me off early, you bitch.” Despite the biting words, Yeosang sounds about as threatening as a cuttlefish between panting breaths and rolls of his hips, and it makes Seonghwa laugh through a sympathetic expression. “You smell good.” Yeosang whines lowly, shy beneath a vulnerability that he usually refuses to display. Seonghwa feels a little flare of pride in his chest for the fact that he’s the one who’d put Yeosang in this position; even if it wasn’t exactly his choice.
“Well, you lasted really long, considering how good I smell.” Seonghwa answers flatly, but the words make Yeosang groan and hide his face in the pillow, embarrassed. Seonghwa steps into the room and crawls onto the bed next to Yeosang, close enough so that the thickness of his scent makes Seonghwa’s heart stutter. From here he can see the sheen of sweat coating his tan, the way his ears pin back against his dark hair, and the tiny, restrained writhes of Yeosang’s body as his skin seeks friction in Seonghwa’s sheets. He’s pretty, when he lets himself be vulnerable this way. When Seonghwa reaches a hand out to stroke down the back of Yeosang’s neck, he practically moans, and the heat of his skin makes Seonghwa’s head spin.
“Do you want help?” Seonghwa asks, and Yeosang hisses, shaking his head and complaining into the pillow. “I was supposed to be helping you rest.” He says frustratedly, and Seonghwa’s chest tightens with affection. It’s quite obvious that Yeosang does want help, judging by the wet spot Seonghwa sees in his shorts, but he’s still trying so hard to be here for Seonghwa instead. He’s perfect.
“You did help, Yeosang. Really, I had such an easy day.” Seonghwa soothes him, and accompanies his words by stroking his palm down the small of Yeosang’s back, despite the way the other cow’s audible reactions to the touch make his mouth water. “My turn now.” He says, softly, though it’s pretty clearly an order, not a suggestion. Yeosang whimpers a last time in protest before he rolls onto his back, exposing a flushed, freckled face to Seonghwa’s eyes. He’s open-mouthed in a pant, and every breath carries the little hint of a wince. Seonghwa wordlessly tugs Yeosang’s shirt over his head and his pants down his hips. It wouldn’t be the first time they gave each other a hand, and neither of them are shy. Judging by the sounds and expressions Yeosang is making, his heat has hit too hard for him to care about slowness or decency anyway. Seonghwa can’t say he’s surprised. Yeosang is so self-assured and independent, he always pushes it off until he breaks beneath the pressure.
Seonghwa drags his fingertips down the center of Yeosang’s chest, watching the way he jerks and tenses beneath his touch. When he gets to Yeosang’s thighs, the cow is practically bucking beneath him, trying to find anything to grind into, and Seonghwa is sympathetic. “Hurts?” Seonghwa’s simple question makes Yeosang’s expression crumple into an open-mouthed grimace, eyes glassy. “Yes. Don’t— don’t finger me, it’ll get worse.” Seonghwa chews into his lip, nodding. Makes sense. It’s not like he has a dick to breed Yeosang with. Fingering him open would probably only make him more desperate for one. He can practically taste Yeosang’s desperation, floating in with the crossbreeze from the windows. He knows he needs to do something. While he’s still thinking about it, he presses his thigh between Yeosang’s thoughtlessly, just to give him something to rub on.
Yeosang’s reaction is immediate, and it seems Seonghwa has made the right choice. He mewls, bucking up to rut against Seonghwa’s knee, and the friction has his jaw falling open and his head tipping back. Seonghwa watches the glimmering line of Yeosang’s wetness drag across the speckled skin of his thigh, mesmerized. He feels it, too: Yeosang is searing-hot and twitching where he grinds into his leg, and if Seonghwa’s heat wasn’t triggered before, he knows that it sure as hell is now.
He leans forward over Yeosang to give him better leverage, and it works just as he’d hoped. Seonghwa watches Yeosang’s face as he huffs out a whimpering, wet noise of appreciation. He grinds down onto Seonghwa’s leg, and the cow can feel how his slickness drips down over his knee as it spreads. His stomach swoops with arousal. “You’re so messy, Yeosang.” Seonghwa comments lowly, as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Yeosang gasps through a whine, lips twisted and eyes screwed closed as he hooks his legs around Seonghwa in an effort to pull him closer. “I’m gonna die.” Yeosang answers dramatically, the words slurred around the pants of his breaths — Seonghwa laughs fondly at him. “No you’re not,” He answers to reassure him, and to help him along a little more, takes Yeosang’s hips in his hands and helps him find a rolling rhythm.
What he doesn’t expect is for Yeosang to tense and flail so wildly as Seonghwa’s hands sink into the plush of his waist. Yeosang hugs his legs tightly around Seonghwa’s thigh, and knocks his own up between Seonghwa’s legs, making him hiss. “Fuck.” He mumbles, half because of the friction between them, and half because he was going to try to hold his heat off until he’d dealt with Yeosang’s. But apparently, that’s not an option. He can feel his underwear soak through with wetness almost immediately after Yeosang touches him. “Fuck.” Seonghwa repeats, and it’s Yeosang’s turn to laugh at him. Thankfully, though, Seonghwa has a solution to benefit them both.
His tail sweeps across the bed behind him as he scoots forward to sit on the mattress. He slots himself between Yeosang’s legs and drags him close by the hips, to which Yeosang gives a little noise of indignation. “Hurry up.” Yeosang complains, voice rough with arousal, nowhere near actual irritation. He’s watching Seonghwa with dark, glassy eyes the size of saucers, expression drenched in adoring wonder. Seonghwa decides he can’t resist him. So he doesn’t try. He drags Yeosang in as close as he can, until they’re locked together, and Seonghwa can feel the heat of his cunt pressed against his lingerie.
Yeosang mewls, leaning up on his elbows for leverage as he rolls his hips desperately against Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s jaw falls slack, watching the way Yeosang slips against his cunt with a slickened ease, listening to the way his breaths flutter and his voice cracks beneath the feeling. God, he’s fucking perfect. The next time Yeosang rolls his hips, Seonghwa does too: the way his clit drags through Yeosang’s slickness makes him clench around nothing and moan through his teeth. Yeosang reaches impatiently to wrench Seonghwa’s thong to one side, and the elder doesn’t stop him. Being pressed into Yeosang’s delicious wetness is the only thing he wants right now.
And it’s just as amazing as he imagines it. Seonghwa chokes as he feels the way Yeosang’s cunt spasms against him, the way their clits bump together. They both moan in tandem, Seonghwa’s higher-pitched than Yeosang’s, as his heat begins to break through again and make his thoughts hazy. Seonghwa’s mouth falls open, and his ears flatten into his hair, and he’s helpless to do anything but be dragged along by Yeosang’s movements. He’s greedy: Seonghwa’s stomach rolls with appreciation when he feels Yeosang’s strong hands sink into his calves and trap him in place against him. The calluses of his hands on hot skin make Seonghwa’s muscles jump, and he keens, head falling back and hair tumbling free from messy braids as Yeosang grinds in desperate circles against him.
“You’re so wet.” Yeosang’s voice is full of awed tension as he grinds against Seonghwa. Seonghwa just whimpers, brows furrowing with effort. His heart palpitates in his chest as he catches sight of the way Yeosang’s spotted thighs are flexing around him. His muscles tense visibly, and Seonghwa has wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into them — but not right now. Right now, Seonghwa knows Yeosang needs to finish: he can see it in the sweat on his brow, the tension of his jaw, and the way his eyes roll with every shift of his hips. “Shh. I want your cum.” Seonghwa forces out, and the words make Yeosang groan, arching into the sheets beneath him. “Fuck.” He hisses, hands tightening onto Seonghwa until he can feel himself bruising.
Yeosang’s cunt is twitching as it slides against him, so Seonghwa moans, trying again to spur him on, gentler this time: “Come on, little cow, cum for me.” Yeosang is trying: that much is obvious, with the way he renews his efforts, rolling against Seonghwa with such a steely grip that Seonghwa feels his own eyes begin to roll. But he doesn’t quite get there — and the frustration the both of them feel with this conclusion is poignantly spoken by Yeosang, who whimpers and lets his hands fall defeatedly away from Seonghwa. “Fuck, I can’t, Hwa.” He sounds heartbroken, and Seonghwa’s chest squeezes with disappointment and sympathy.
“You can.” Seonghwa encourages, through gritted teeth, because he wants it just as badly as Yeosang does. His hips are still rolling down into Yeosang’s cunt with a last-ditch effort to keep their friction going, despite the distraught expression on the other cow’s face and the string of whimpers that spill from his lips. “Not enough.” Yeosang whispers with the shake of his head. It’s only then that Seonghwa gives up, sighing and falling still between Yeosang’s legs.
They’re panting together, still locked at the hips despite the way they eye each other, deflated and uncertain. What now? Seonghwa thinks, because obviously, they need a bull’s touch, but Yeosang had chased them all off with nips and bared teeth. God, Seonghwa loves him, but he has to be regretting that move now. “This sucks.” Yeosang says flatly, voice bordering on a whine, and Seonghwa huffs out an agreeing laugh. “Yeah,” He agrees, disentangling himself from Yeosang, who curls back into his mattress with a grimace. “Stay here,” He says, trying to sound confident despite the way his knees knock together when he stands. Seonghwa is in better shape than Yeosang right now, so he has to fix this for them. Even though he has a cramp in the pit of his stomach and his extremities all feel like pins and needles.
Yeosang is silently accepting, dragging Seonghwa’s silken sheets up over his body with a sigh. Seonghwa’s heart squeezes in pity, so he hurries to pull his lace robe over his shoulders and rush out of the door. The bulls are likely all nursing their hurt egos, and Seonghwa thinks they might be a bit much for Yeosang today, anyways. He’s sensitive, and Seonghwa wants to protect that part of him. So he decides to try something else.
Seonghwa ties his robe tightly and makes his way across the field, ignoring any spare glances he attracts as he does. He knows he looks a mess, but honestly, who doesn’t at this time of year? They’re all just trying to cope through the spring. Seonghwa sighs as he pushes dark hair past his ears and rubs at his flushed cheeks. When he gets to where he’s going, he pushes open the cottage door without knocking.
Seonghwa finds Hongjoong easily inside. His spicy scent is strong in his tiny house, barely two rooms, but decorated immaculately. Seonghwa finds himself here often, so it’s easy for him to find his path, even as he makes his way through the dark, curtain-drawn living room and into Hongjoong’s bedroom.
Hongjoong is curled sweetly in his twin bed, still dozing in sleep, and Seonghwa lingers in the doorway, hesitating as he watches him rest. It’s almost a shame to need to wake him, but Seonghwa really isn’t sure who else he can go to. When his scent reaches Hongjoong, Seonghwa watches him start to stir on his own, stretching out and sitting up with eyes blinking wide. Seonghwa smiles and walks over to him, steps purposefully heavy so as not to startle him. “Hiya.” Seonghwa says, as he sits down next to Hongjoong on his bed and reaches out to scratch at Hongjoong’s ginger locks. Hongjoong smiles sleepily and yawns, leaning into Seonghwa’s touch.
“Hi, Hwa.” Hongjoong greets, voice raspy with sleep. He often has a hard time sleeping, insomnia gripping him at the worst of times. So Seonghwa feels guilty having woken him now. His smile thins with a tinge of regret, and he asks: “Rough night?” Hongjoong shrugs one shoulder, reaching a hand up to toy with the white lace of Seonghwa’s robe sleeve. “A bit. But you’re here now.” Hongjoong’s statement seems obvious, but what he’s really saying is, Better, now that you’re here. Seonghwa leans over and nuzzles his spotted nose into the top of Hongjoong’s hair, staying there for a moment.
“You smell like Yeosang.” Hongjoong murmurs, the words pressed gently into Seonghwa’s neck. Seonghwa hums, leaning away from their hug to meet his eyes, and answers: “He’s at my house.” Hongjoong’s brows lift slightly in question, because he’s starting to understand that Seonghwa had come here for a reason. Usually, he comes for a snuggle, or a warm meal, or so that they can sing together with the crickets on Hongjoong’s porch. But Seonghwa sighs, nodding in admission, and begins to explain.
“Yeah … He was helping me today, keeping all our horny juniors out of my house.” Seonghwa’s speech is blunt, and Hongjoong snorts, rolling his eyes affectionately. He is familiar, of course. As if anticipating that Seonghwa will proposition him, Hongjoong throws his blankets off and adjusts his hair with painted fingernails as he listens. “He’s good at that. But ah … my heat set his off. I tried to help him, but I couldn’t do enough.” Seonghwa smiles empathetically, and adds: “He’s delicate.” The statement is true, and Hongjoong nods. Yeosang is someone more in-tune to nature and emotions than most others, even if he tries to hide it. They try to shield him from discomfort, because of that, but when it hits him — it really hits him. And he needs some special care that not everyone can give.
Hongjoong searches Seonghwa’s eyes, and his tired smile is understanding, too. “You want me to come over? I can try to help him.” Hongjoong’s offer is exactly what Seonghwa had expected. He’s generous, understanding, and so selfless for the rest of them at times, that it wounds Seonghwa, because he needs Hongjoong to care for himself, too. But today, they do really need him, so Seonghwa nods appreciatively. “Thank you,” He says, and Hongjoong swings his legs over the side of the bed so that he sits shoulder-to-shoulder with Seonghwa. “Of course, baby.” Hongjoong’s fingertips ghost over Seonghwa’s thigh, and he twitches, breath hitching. Hongjoong’s eyes narrow a fraction, calculating. “And help you, maybe.” He adds, and Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment as if to chase his own instincts away.
“Maybe,” He agrees, standing and taking Hongjoong’s hand to pull him up, too. “Yeosang first.” Seonghwa finishes decisively, and when Hongjoong smiles at him, it’s understanding and tender.
They’re hand-in-hand as they cross the field back to Seonghwa’s house. Long grass nips at Seonghwa’s ankles as they go, and he is struck for a moment just how happy he is, as always, to be with Hongjoong (even in situations like this). Hongjoong’s fingers squeeze comfortingly around Seonghwa’s as they walk, and Seonghwa glances over at him, smiling as he watches ginger chunks of hair sweep over his forehead and the back of his neck. Sure — Hongjoong is a bull, but he’s different from most. He’s controlled. He’s driven by logic rather than by instinct. And it’s why he makes a great example for all of them. Seonghwa finds easy comfort in Hongjoong’s grace, his leadership, the balance he strikes between gendered norms. He’s calm, and he’s steady. Their herd might be wide and varied, but Hongjoong is the perfect middle for all of them. Seonghwa can easily trust him with this (and with anything).
Hongjoong goes first, pushing Seonghwa’s cottage door open with a gentle touch, and making his way to Yeosang without hesitation. Seonghwa takes the time to lock the door behind them, and follows a few paces behind, lingering as he watches them interact. Hongjoong crawls quickly into Seonghwa’s bed, meeting Yeosang, who reaches out for him with a whimper and moves to pull him in close. It’s endearing at first, watching the way their hands find one another, the way Hongjoong pulls Yeosang into his chest and murmurs encouraging, questioning words into the top of his hair. Their softness doesn’t last for long though, because though Hongjoong is pressing little kisses and soothing whispers into Yeosang’s temple, his black-painted fingertips are sliding down Yeosang’s chest. When his touch moves past his hips, Yeosang gasps, gripping white knuckles into the spots on Hongjoong’s arm like his life depends on it.
Despite Hongjoong’s absence of breeding instincts, he’s still a bull. He’ll serve Yeosang’s needs just as well as any of the others — and is still experienced enough to know what he’s doing. Seonghwa’s had him explain it before: when Hongjoong helps the cows, he does it for them, not for himself. It’s a bit refreshing, Seonghwa thinks, as he watches Hongjoong slip his fingertips through Yeosang’s folds. Hongjoong is smiling contently into the crook of Yeosang’s neck, moving carefully and methodically, even as Yeosang arches and gasps, hooves slipping in the sheets as his muscles tense.
Seonghwa’s starting to pant too, fingertips trembling at his sides and stomach squeezing with need as he watches them, but he can still acknowledge that Yeosang is in a worse state than he is. So he settles for reclining in his bed on Hongjoong’s other side and watching, for now. Hongjoong glances over at him with a little, gentle smile. Seonghwa sighs happily. Ugh, he’s perfect, he thinks, as his eyes rove over Hongjoong’s sharp features and patient smile. Despite that, though, his body gets the best of him, and Seonghwa squeezes his thighs together to placate himself.
Hongjoong turns his attention back to Yeosang, and Seonghwa presses up against his back, snuggling in and resting his fingers on his hip encouragingly. Yeosang lifts a toned arm over his shoulder to cup Hongjoong’s face, eager for more contact, however little. Hongjoong accepts him willingly, pressing his lips into his wrist as he focuses down on him. “Shh. I’ve got you,” Hongjoong says, whispered into Yeosang’s palm, as he curls two fingers inside of him. Yeosang whimpers, squeezing his eyes closed, and grinds his hips down into Hongjoong’s hand desperately. “Please, Hongjoong..” Yeosang’s plea is little and overwhelmed, and Hongjoong makes a sound of concern when the younger turns his face to mouth into his neck.
Yeosang is very, very difficult to resist, refuse, or say no to. There’s something about him that begs to be cradled and adored, even when he tries to act tough. In other circumstances, Seonghwa has seen Hongjoong be more teasing, more unforgiving — but now he’s the epitome of softness, fingering Yeosang open with gentle curls of his fingers and hugging him tight into his chest. Seonghwa feels overwhelmed with fondness for them both, even as Yeosang moans into Hongjoong’s neck and writhes against his front. “Yeah baby, I know. Listen, roll over.” Hongjoong’s instructions are quiet and careful so he doesn’t spook Yeosang, who is quivering with need. He listens, disentangling himself from Hongjoong and rolling onto his stomach, and Hongjoong lifts a leg, tossing it over Yeosang and fluidly moving to straddle the back of his thighs.
As per usual, Seonghwa is in awe of Hongjoong’s grace and focus. He props his head up in one hand as he watches him, smoothing soothing hands over Yeosang’s spine, pressing into his muscles from shoulder to tailbone and urging him to relax. Hongjoong is more attentive than the rest of them, who often get caught up in the heat of it all — Seonghwa wishes he could emulate the personalized care and intimacy that Hongjoong creates for all of them. He has some secret, mental catalogue that outlines what each of them need most. And for Yeosang, it’s a careful touch, the opportunity to sink away from his own thoughts, and gentle words that pry his overwhelm away.
“Breathe, Sangie.” Hongjoong says, with an even and confident tone. The placement of his words seems to placate Yeosang slightly, and with Hongjoong’s encouragement, he rests his face against the pillow, cheek puffing out cutely, and settles himself down into the mattress, sucking in deep breaths to chase off his fevered tension. Hongjoong rubs circles into his delts and hips, working the twitches and flutters away. When Yeosang is finally breathing evenly, mouth slightly open against Seonghwa’s silken pillow, Hongjoong sighs and says, “That’s good. Good job.”
His praise has Yeosang smiling dazedly, and Seonghwa smiles back at him when they meet eyes. He slides in closer to Yeosang, pressing a tiny kiss against his forehead and clasping his hand in his, an extra grounding touch to lull him into calmness. It’s working, and Seonghwa feels overwhelmingly glad. Hongjoong murmurs next, with eyes roving over Yeosang’s spots and freckles: “Give me a minute now, okay honey?” Yeosang nods into the pillow, because he knows how Hongjoong works. He lets his eyes slip closed in rest as Hongjoong draws his hands away from him, instead reaching to loosen the drawstring of his own shorts and pull his dick out.
Seonghwa watches as Hongjoong closes his eyes in focus and strokes himself to hardness. He looks so good like that, he thinks, watching Hongjoong’s brow furrow and his head bow as he works himself. Seonghwa has the urge to help him, because he knows that this takes more effort for Hongjoong than it does for the others. So he sits up slowly, squeezing Yeosang’s hand before letting it go, and goes to Hongjoong, smoothing a careful hand over the small of his back before pressing up behind him.
Hongjoong’s eyes crack open, and he glances back over his shoulder at Seonghwa, eyes questioning. Seonghwa kisses from his shoulder into his neck, careful touches encouraging him to relax. “Let me help, baby,” He says into Hongjoong’s cheek, fingers crawling forward over his hip. Hongjoong nods breathlessly, eyes slipping back closed as Seonghwa’s hand replaces his on his dick. Seonghwa strokes him the way he knows he likes, slow and firm, and breathes huffs of excited air into Hongjoong’s neck as he does. Hongjoong reaches back and squeezes Seonghwa’s other hand as if to ground himself. “Good..” Seonghwa breathes encouragingly, heart squeezing at the way Hongjoong holds onto him. Hongjoong’s breaths quicken as he hardens in Seonghwa’s palm, and Seonghwa ignores the way his mouth waters in favor of reaching forward with both hands and dragging Yeosang’s hips back and up.
Hongjoong takes it from here, but Seonghwa still stays planted against his back, hugging his arms around his middle. He can’t resist staying like that, even if it hinders Hongjoong’s movements. Hongjoong laughs lowly, the sound a little strained as Seonghwa releases his erection. “Baby, c’mon, I gotta move,” he complains, and Seonghwa huffs in protest, but releases the hug enough for Hongjoong to shift forward and sink himself into Yeosang with one swift movement. Yeosang yelps, knees slipping in the bed as he wiggles, and whines needily as Hongjoong falls still. “Please,” Yeosang says again, so genuine that Seonghwa feels dizzy, and Hongjoong exhales shakily, leaning forward and bracing himself over his spine. “I’m here, baby,” He says, low and strained, before he rolls his hips into Yeosang and they both sigh their appreciation into the breeze.
Seonghwa flattens a palm steadily against Hongjoong’s back to ground him as he fucks into Yeosang, slowly, delicately, careful like Yeosang needs and like Hongjoong always is. Seonghwa watches the back of Hongjoong’s neck, as if he can find the answers to the universe there, despite the way he pants, pinning a hand down on the small of Yeosang’s back as he grinds inside of him. Seonghwa’s just as affected by the scent of Yeosang, blatant in the air, and by the sound of them siding together — and especially by the sound of Yeosang moaning breathily with appreciation, and by Hongjoong whispering: “Hahh … good boy, you’re so good for me.” It’s soft, a promise of Hongjoong’s ever-present care, and one that Seonghwa believes without hesitation.
“Hongjoong…” Yeosang whines again, low and needy, as he lifts his hips back against Hongjoong in search of more. Hongjoong shudders against him, taking Yeosang’s little waist in his hands and flexing his fingers gently there. “Mmh. I know, I know.” He breathes, to placate him, and his brows furrow in focus again as he pulls their hips together a bit more persistently. Seonghwa can tell he’s trying to keep his concentration so he can finish this, so he says again, “Let me help.” Hongjoong sighs with palpable relief when he does, reaching around his hip to press his fingers around where Hongjoong and Yeosang are joined and rub Yeosang’s clit. The effect is immediate, and Hongjoong chokes as Yeosang tightens like a vice, squeezing around him until he whimpers with stimulation. Seonghwa strokes a hand through Hongjoong’s hair and kisses at his neck again, dropping a hand to grab at his chest and tickle his nails over his abs. “Yeah,” Seonghwa breathes, encouragingly, softly. All of it is soft, because Yeosang is soft, and Hongjoong might even be softer. Seonghwa thinks he could sink into their company and never resurface. But for now, he has to orchestrate this for them. And he does it happily.
“Joong,” Seonghwa whispers against Hongjoong’s earlobe. The sensation makes him whimper and tighten his hands slowly into Yeosang’s sides. Seonghwa is dizzy with adoration and need as he presses into Yeosang’s clit and hears him mewl. “You gonna breed Yeosang?” His question is low and probing, and Hongjoong whines, hips twitching. Yeosang hisses and circles his hips back into Hongjoong, which presses him against Seonghwa’s frame, too. Seonghwa pants, nosing into Hongjoong’s temple. “Fill him up, baby, he needs it.” Hongjoong gasps, jaw falling open as he tips his head back against Seonghwa’s shoulder. “Fuck…” He hisses, just as affected by Seonghwa’s voice in his ear as he is by Yeosang’s body tensed against him. Hongjoong likes sensations, and encouragement — and a little help. Seonghwa would do anything he ever needed.
“You can do it, go on my love.” Seonghwa breathes believing words into Hongjoong’s ear as he quickens his pace again with Seonghwa’s encouragement. Yeosang moans and writhes under them, grinding into Seonghwa’s hand and panting into the pillow. He looks pretty like this too, Seonghwa thinks, watching his toned muscles flex and his spine arch. Hongjoong says what he’s thinking: “Pretty, pretty cow.” He’s breathless, eyes focused in pinpoints on where he sinks his cock into Yeosang, dripping wet. Seonghwa tickles his fingers down Hongjoong’s side, up his sternum, and rests his palm over his throat. Something in the threat of possibility shakes Hongjoong enough to break through his barrier. He makes a low sound in his chest, growling through his yearning, and leans forward over Yeosang, arching for leverage as he fucks into him with a little more force — and chokes on a groan. Yeosang shrieks when Hongjoong finally cums inside of him, arching up off the bedspread and back so that Hongjoong can lick into his neck and hiss into his ears, pinned down into dark hair. “Oh, mmm—” Yeosang hiccups a little sound of appreciation, hands fisting into the sheets.
“Fuck, fuck …” Hongjoong’s voice is a little overwhelmed, so Seonghwa peels himself off of his spine, giving him some space. When he turns to look at his face, Hongjoong’s eyes are squeezed closed, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple. Seonghwa’s chest squeezes with pride and understanding. “You did so good.” Seonghwa murmurs, genuine praise spilling from his lips, because he knows that this doesn’t come so naturally to Hongjoong, but he does so well considering that, every time. He’s so selfless that it almost hurts Seonghwa — he presses gentle fingers into Hongjoong’s hip to coax him back and out of Yeosang, and when he’s free from Yeosang’s body, Hongjoong gasps and seems to come back to life.
“Aahh… sorry.” He whispers, blinking and looking between Yeosang and Seonghwa. Seonghwa just smiles, and Yeosang squints back at him happily, smiling too. “No need to be sorry. Thanks baby.” Hongjoong smiles too then, happy to have helped them. But as a pause passes, he looks pointedly down between Seonghwa’s legs and asks, “You…?” Seonghwa makes a sound that suggests he’d forgotten about himself, and, effectively he had — Hongjoong is beautifully distracting. Seonghwa doesn’t want to force him now. “It’s okay, I’m fine baby.” Seonghwa says, promisingly, even though Hongjoong’s ears flatten back to his head with concern. “But…” Hongjoong’s complaint is hesitant, and Seonghwa tilts his head. Hongjoong is still staring at his body and it’s starting to make him a bit self-conscious. Hongjoong crawls towards him suddenly, and Seonghwa shakes his head, moving to push him away. “No, Hongjoong, you don’t have to—hah!”
Seonghwa yelps and strains, caught off guard by Hongjoong reaching under his robe and sinking his fingers into his wetness. Seonghwa catches himself before he slips back against the pillow, reaching out and gripping onto Hongjoong’s shoulder instead. He finds something in his eyes when they meet his, another promise of everlasting care, even if he can’t breed them both like the other bulls can. Hongjoong smiles faintly at Seonghwa, and it says, I can give you something else. Seonghwa’s face blushes pink but he sighs acceptingly, chewing into his lip and letting his knees fall apart for Hongjoong to crawl between them.
Hongjoong is good with his hands. Seonghwa has always known that. He crafts, he plays music, he teaches the children intricate games. But it also comes useful in other situations — like this one. Seonghwa hears Yeosang yawn, still sleepily settled in a post-orgasm haze beside them, and as if for comfort, he reaches over to take his hand again. Yeosang squeezes his fingers gently, just as Hongjoong presses a third finger into Seonghwa. He whines, quivering and arching his spine forward. “Sorry, baby, I don’t think I can fuck you.” Hongjoong apologizes, but his eyes are trained between Seonghwa’s legs in a laser-focus. Seonghwa breathes a shaky laugh. “I know, honey, it’s okay, I don’t expect you to.” Hongjoong deflates visibly at that and turns back to his task, curling his fingers inside of Seonghwa until he moans, fingers digging into Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“I love you guys,” Yeosang mumbles into the pillow beside them, sounding drunk. Seonghwa and Hongjoong both giggle, even as Hongjoong pumps his fingers into Seonghwa more quickly. “Love you,” they both answer in tandem, breathy as they move together. Seonghwa is soaking wet and easy to open up, so Hongjoong presses his fourth finger into him and they both hiss. “You’re so perfect,” Hongjoong breathes, and Seonghwa blushes crimson. His eyes roll in his head and his hand shakes on Hongjoong’s shoulder. He lifts the other to press on his chest, into his fast heartbeat. “You,” Seonghwa shoots back on a moan, and Hongjoong just giggles at his state. He reaches his other hand up to shove Seonghwa’s robe off of his shoulders, so that he can look over the pretty speckles on his neck and chest. “More, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa asks, voice shaky despite his confidence. Hongjoong obliges, curling his fingers deeper, with more force inside of Seonghwa, until he’s trembling and gasping with the stretch and his eyes squeeze shut.
“Yeah, baby. Feels good?” Hongjoong’s check-in is so genuine and yearning that Seonghwa makes an overwhelmed sound that’s close to tears. “Yeah, yeah,” He says like a mantra, writhing and rolling his hips into Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong sighs contently, eyes focused solely on Seonghwa’s face now as he fingers him wide open and breaks him apart. “You’re beautiful, baby,” He says lowly, sounding awestruck by his affection even as Seonghwa mewls and shakes under him. Seonghwa smiles widely, even as his eyes shine with tears. “I love you.” He breathes, and Hongjoong laughs. “I love you too.” He says through a giggle, but the moment is quickly cut off by Hongjoong pressing the rest of his hand inside of him.
“Ohh- haaah, fuck!” Seonghwa’s voice is small and overwhelmed, shaking with the edge of a sob as Hongjoong gasps and stays still inside of him for a moment. “My God.” He breathes, looking between Seonghwa’s legs at where his fist had disappeared. “You’re so sexy,” Hongjoong groans through his teeth, tail sweeping quickly over the sheets behind him. Seonghwa weeps, grinding into Hongjoong’s hand and shaking against him. “Please, please, please Joong, I’m so close…” His begging makes Hongjoong hiss with determination, and he curls his fingers inside of Seonghwa, deep and pointed into a place that makes him squeal and sob. Seonghwa scratches at his shoulder until Hongjoong says, in a low voice: “Cum for me, pretty.” He twists his hand and Seonghwa goes blind with the force of his orgasm, moaning loud into the room as he arches and squirms through his finish.
Seonghwa is too dazed to notice as Hongjoong pries himself away from him, only whining lowly when he pulls his hand out of him and wipes it on a discarded piece of clothing nearby. Hongjoong’s murmuring something soft to him, some checking words of appreciation, but Seonghwa can’t hear him, heartbeat still thundering in his ears as he floats back into himself. He musters a faint smile so that Hongjoong will know he’s okay, and he hears him sigh with relief. The bed jostles a bit, and Seonghwa blinks, focus returning again as he looks over to find Hongjoong settled beside him, and Yeosang cuddling pointedly into his other side. Seonghwa smiles, wide and slow, and Hongjoong presses kisses into his hair.
“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asks, voice small and gentle again, and Seonghwa sighs out his massive contentment. “Never better,” He says, punctuating it by hugging an arm over Hongjoong’s chest. He finds Yeosang’s fingers there and takes his hand, listening to him giggle into Hongjoong’s other arm. “You’re the best,” Seonghwa tells Hongjoong, whispered lowly into his lips, and he feels Hongjoong smile before he kisses him gently.