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Dongwoo was never, ever going to try to do something nice again, he decided.
There was metal digging into Dongwoo’s ribs, a thick plastic flap laying cold against his upper back. His bare knees were cold against the solid rubber of Sungkyu’s doormat, and if Dongwoo wasn’t entirely focused on trying to wiggle out of Sungkyu’s doggy door then he would’ve thought about how maybe Sungkyu was right, and his thin Chrome Hearts shorts and t-shirt weren’t adequate clothing for a Korean winter.
He wasn’t trying to worm his way into Sungkyu’s house through the doggy door for fun, of course. Sungkyu had changed the locks sometime in the last few months–something about too many people having the key, Dongwoo didn’t remember–and he hadn’t found the time to give out new keys. But Dongwoo didn’t let that stop him from trying to surprise his Hyung with flowers and a movie and probably a blowjob, as congratulations on releasing his first album in three-and-a-half years.
Why did Sungkyu even have a doggy door? It’s not like he had a dog. Woohyun and Sungyeol had dogs, and they were over often enough, but why wouldn’t Sungkyu just open the door to let them out and not have a giant doggy door installed, one that looked just Dongwoo-sized enough for Dongwoo to try his luck worming through, one that was left unlocked and was easily accessible from the back yard if someone had the gate codes?
The sun was going to go down soon, and the flowers and card he had brought were probably lying where he had left them on the concrete a few inches from his legs. The chill was really settling in, now, and Dongwoo shivered lightly as he tried again to pull himself through, the firm metal of the door’s sides digging into his hips.
“What on earth–Dongwoo?” Dongwoo’s head shot up as Sungkyu shut the front door behind him, keys hooked onto the wall and shoes slipped by the door. “Why are you–I have so many questions right now. What were you trying to do?”
Dongwoo pouted, hands finding the floor. “I just wanted to surprise you…”
“What a cute surprise," Sungkyu didn’t move from where he stood by the couch, and Dongwoo was almost offended at how unsurprised he looked. “And you didn’t have a key?”
Dongwoo shook his head.
Sungkyu padded over to where Dongwoo was perched and crouched to his level, the younger’s head inches from the floor. His hand rose to cup Dongwoo’s cheek affectionately. “Of all the members, only you would be able to get yourself into this situation…” his hand slid down to grip Dongwoo’s chin between his fingers. “I texted the group chat that there was a spare key under the mat weeks ago.”
“Oh… I get so many notifications, I probably didn’t see–”
“Notifications from other men?” Sungkyu’s voice was teasing, his lips turned up in the stupid little half-smile that made Dongwoo’s stomach clench.
“I’m sorry…” Dongwoo’s pout deepened, and if it was anyone other than Dongwoo, the way his lip quivered would seem silly and insincere, but it was Dongwoo, the closest thing the earth had to an angel, and Sungkyu knew he was genuine.
“Sorry for what?”
“Trying to sneak into your house…”
He pinched Dongwoo’s cheek. “I’m not mad.”
Sungkyu looked at Dongwoo’s form a beat longer, stuck in the back door of his apartment, smiling before rocking back up onto his feet. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped out a text, and tossed it on the couch before turning from Dongwoo. “I’m gonna shower. I just got back from dance practice, I’m exhausted and gross.”
“Wh-what?” Dongwoo spluttered, renewing his efforts at pushing his hips through the hole in the door. “Wait, Hyung, help me, it’s so cold–”
A door clicked shut down the hallway, and Dongwoo shivered as the cold crept up his spine with nothing to left distract him. The sun was really setting now, the light hitting the glass door from behind and shining colored prisms onto the furniture, and Dongwoo rested his head on his hands. If this was Sungkyu’s punishment for his attempted breaking-and-entering, he was resigned to it. Sungkyu’s phone lay vibrating on the couch, and Dongwoo could hear the water running through the pipes in the house. At least his arms were warm, and his head. He rubbed his legs together, the feeling of cold skin on cold skin doing nothing to warm him.
Dongwoo jumped as a warm hand touched his thigh, smoothing up the outside of his leg. Sungkyu’s back yard was securely locked, only the members and a select few friends and staff knew the gate codes. Cold crept up his spine, and not just from the outside temperatures. It wasn’t Sungkyu, the water was still running down the hall and Dongwoo hadn’t heard a door open.
A dog’s sharp bark echoed from the backyard behind him, little paws scraping against the concrete. Was that–
“Aga, quiet girl,” Sungyeol shushed from behind him. Aga trod off into the yard yipping at something in the distance. “Aish. That dog.”
Sungyeol’s hands were hot as they caressed Dongwoo’s bare thighs, the skin of his palms rough against his legs. Dongwoo’s chest flooded with warmth–finally, he’d be helped out of here!
A door opened down the hall and Sungkyu emerged, towel-drying his hair in a damp band tee and sweatpants.
“Gyu-hyung,” Dongwoo’s smile was gummy, alarm bells not ringing in his head at Sungkyu’s nonchalance. “Yeollie’s here, he can help me, if you can’t–”
Dongwoo gasped as the fabric of his shorts was pulled down to his knees in one swift motion, the bare skin of his ass exposed to the cool air. His shorts pool around his calves and the rubber mat under his legs, and Dongwoo distantly thinks he’s lucky his bare legs aren’t on concrete before the warm hands from before are cupping his ass, and he’s wiggling forward again in a futile effort to get himself unstuck.
Sungkyu was watching with an amused expression, tossing his damp towel onto the couch and picking up his phone. He smiled at something on the screen, swiping away the notification, before it joined the towel in a pile.
“Is he helping, Dongwooya?” Sungkyu looks above Dongwoo’s form through the glass door and smiles at Sungyeol before Dongwoo feels something wet and warm at his rim. Those warm, warm hands spread his thighs until his knees knocked to the edges of the mat, rubber cool as the air and unwarmed by Dongwoo’s body heat.
Dongwoo whined at the sensation, head dropping to the hardwood floor and Sungkyu was crouched in front of him again, sliding a hand into Dongwoo’s hair, petting. The tongue gently rimming him dipped further in and the hands on his thighs squeezed, pinching and grabbing and Sungyeol could fit so much of Dongwoo in his hands and that thought was dizzying.
When Dongwoo opens his eyes, Sungkyu’s staring down at him in adoration, and his bare feet are inches from Dongwoo’s face. The tongue in his ass is distracting, Sungkyu’s mouth is moving but all of the blood is rushing from Dongwoo’s head and not one word of what Sungkyu’s saying is making it through to his brain.
The grip in his hair tightened, his scalp prickling with pain as his head is pulled up, mouth lolling open. “I asked you a question. Is Yeollie helping?”
Dongwoo swallowed thickly. “Nuh–God, no, I’m still–stuck and it’s cold–”
“Mmm,” Sungkyu muses. “Yeol? Did you hear that? The baby’s cold. Warm him up better.”
A smack sounds through the gaps in the doggy door before Dongwoo feels it against his ice-cold skin, and when the sensation finally reaches his stunted nerve endings the pain shocks through his hips and burns through his core. A finger joins the tongue sucking at him, cold with something other than spit, and the absurdity of Sungyeol having lube on him is lost on Dongwoo’s blissed-out mind.
Sungkyu’s eyes follow Dongwoo’s gaze to his feet and he hums something akin to understanding, settling onto the floor with his legs bent straight in front of him, feet mere centimeters now from Dongwoo’s face.
“I’m cold, too. My feet are cold, I forgot to put on slippers after my shower. Warm them up for me?” Dongwoo heard the question lacing the command, this wasn’t something they’d ever explored, and he knew Sungkyu was acting on a hunch. Sometimes their leader was too intelligent for his own good.
Dongwoo dips his head and pulls Sungkyu’s big toe into his mouth, and it’s cool and smooth and bony against his tongue, pushing up into his palate. It’s everything he’d dreamt of–he’d never really unpacked what it meant to dream about his leader’s feet–and it’s not much different from sucking a thumb, more salty with a light tang of sweat. It was different from sucking a dick, the shape more rigid.
Sungkyu’s tight grip on his hair pushes him farther onto his foot, toes sliding past his lips one by one, Sungkyu’s breath coming in hard pants.
“Your mouth’s so huge, fuck, you could park a car in there. I wonder how much you could fit…” And Dongwoo has all of Sungkyu’s toes in his jaw, saliva dripping down his chin as he tongues around the smooth balls of Sungkyu’s feet, attempting to suck with his mouth so full.
Sungkyu’s enjoying it, too, if the tent in his sweatpants was any evidence. He’s leaned back, one arm braced behind him on the floor to hold up his weight while his other’s gripping Dongwoo by the hair and guiding his head to bob up and down on his foot, like he would guide Dongwoo going down on his dick, and the eroticism of it reminds Dongwoo of the hardness between his own legs, hanging bare in the cold.
Two more fingers had made their way inside him alongside Sungyeol’s tongue in the time Dongwoo had been completely engrossed with Sungkyu’s foot, and he only noticed as they slipped out of him, a warm trail of spit or lube or some obscene combination of both dripping down his perineum.
A too-hot hand settled under his waist, splayed against his stomach and pulled him up by the hips, another hand pushing his upper back down until his chest was again flush with the plastic bottom of the doggy door’s gate. It was a crude position, as elegant of an arch as he could be molded into given his… predicament. Something blunt pressed against his rim and was inside of him in a second, and he felt so, so warm against the cold of the winter air, Sungkyu’s grip in his hair tightening as Dongwoo lost control of his jaw and bit into the sensitive skin at the ball of Sungkyu’s feet.
Sungkyu pulled him off and held him there, letting Dongwoo suck in gasping lungfulls of air as Sungyeol slid home into him, the fullness familiar. Dongwoo’s hands scrabbled against the hardwood floor by his shoulders–not moving, not touching. Sungkyu hadn’t said he could touch.
Sungyeol’s hips were flush with Dongwoo’s ass when Sungkyu pushed Dongwoo’s open mouth into the arch of his foot, already wet with saliva.
“Do it properly. I know you can.”
Sungyeol’s pace wasn’t fast, wasn’t slow, but leisurely enough a speed for Dongwoo to rock forward with every slide home, nipples rubbing against cold metal through his shirt. Sungkyu pulled himself from his sweats and started stroking himself in time with Sungyeol’s pace, pushing his foot into Dongwoo’s eager mouth.
It hurt so good, the cold against his legs and nipples and the hand yanking at his hair. Dongwoo worshipped Sungkyu’s feet with his tongue, his arm rushing up to grip Sungkyu’s perfect, pretty ankles and thumbing the soft skin there. Sungkyu didn’t say he could touch, but Dongwoo couldn’t help himself; and if the slick noises of Sungkyu’s dick in his own fist were any proof, any arbitrary unspoken rules in place were null and void.
Sungkyu’s thumb brushed the sweat from Dongwoo’s brow as he clenched the younger’s hair in his fist. “I wonder what the neighbors see. Hearing Aga’s barks, looking from their windows into the yard. I wonder if they can see you from here,” The thought was horrifying, and all-consumingly arousing. “We’ll find out, if management sends me complaints. Or if I get any requests to use you.”
Dongwoo cried out as a rough hand wrapped around his dick, Sungyeol’s pace quickening. Dongwoo’s eyes slipped up the line of Sungkyu’s leg, to his fist, where the thick pinkish head of his dick peeked out between the tight wet circle of his first with every stroke. Sungkyu’s eyes were locked on something behind Dongwoo, likely Sungyeol through the window, and Sungyeol pulled Dongwoo’s hips impossibly closer, the older’s knees almost lifting from the mat below him.
Sungyeol gave a few shallow thrusts until he was still, his fingers bruising on Dongwoo’s waist. Dongwoo bit down on Sungkyu’s heel as the grip on his dick tightened and he came onto the mat below him, the force of his orgasm against the mat a thick splattering noise he could hear through the gaps in the doggy door.
His hand squeezed Sungkyu’s ankle in time with the throbbing of his dick as Sungyeol milked every drop from him to the point of pain, stars behind his clenched-shut eyes and he opened them to see cum oozing from Sungkyu’s fist, his hand having slipped from Dongwoo’s hair at some point in their climaxes to muffle his own noises.
Dongwoo dropped his head to the floor with a thud, spent, mumbling against the hardwood. “You guys are so mean to me…”
Sungkyu huffed a laugh through catching his breath, wiping his hand against his shirt. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that. Kind of.”
“I’m not!” Sungyeol shouted through the door. He brought his palm down hard against Dongwoo’s ass, squeezing.
Dongwoo hissed at the pain. “Can you at least help me out of here…? I really am stuck.”
Sungkyu thumbed at Dongwoo’s swollen bottom lip with a grin. “I’ll think about it.”