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“There!” Joshua exclaims, turning to Minghao, eyes all wide like an anime princess. “Didn’t you feel that?”
“What?” Minghao prompts, not sounding particularly interested, looking at something on his phone. “No? Wait, is this that same thing you were rambling about earlier?”
“I swear!” Joshua insists, shifting anxiously on the bed they’re both sitting on.
Vernon bites his lip on the chuckle that wants to break free and, from his position kneeling on the floor at their feet, runs his hand once more up the inside of Joshua’s thigh. The costume pants are cheap and staticky against his skin, and he can feel already the heat near Joshua’s crotch, and see the way the fabric is starting to strain a little.
They’ve just got back to the dorm from filming. Of the three of them, only Vernon actually lives here full time, but the beds are always kept made up and the fridge stocked. This room is technically Mingyu and Wonwoo’s, so the mattress that Minghao is sprawled across so carelessly could probably tell some stories. Those two kept Vernon awake way too many nights back in the old days before he could afford noise-cancelling earphones, and he feels no guilt whatsoever for defiling their hypothecated linens.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Minghao repeats now, which in Vernon’s opinion is probably even more out of character than Joshua as a helpless ingenue, because Minghao not only believes in spirit worlds but has guidebooks and charts about it, ones he’s explained to Vernon with intense, serious, sincerity. But then to be fair Minghao’s spirits are really not, like, poltergeist-y dead individuals with a sex agenda, so the conviction of the statement is kind of true.
“I feel really weird,” Joshua offers, voice trembling, and Vernon takes his cue to drift his fingers carefully higher again, fluttering them this time, somewhere near Joshua’s balls. Joshua makes a cut-off kind of gasp, and grabs Minghao’s arm frantically. Vernon has to adjust himself for a moment. Fuck, but Joshua’s good. It’s not the first time they’ve played something a bit like this, but that GoSe scenario fucking bullseye-d half their kinks in a way Vernon is absolutely praying no one else involved realised. They’d had to come here and bang it out, he’d known that from the first time Joshua shivered under his hands as he ‘ghosted’ jewellery onto him, and the look he’d seen on Minghao as he watched them.
Not that they don’t do this quite often, anyway. More often, recently, to the point where one of the junior managers asked if they wanted to change car assignments since, apparently, they’re leaving group schedules together more often than not.
“Hmm,” Minghao says now, seriously, and reaches round to place the back of his hand against Joshua’s forehead. In that position, the side of his leg brushes against Vernon, and Vernon indulges himself with turning his head to press closer, seeking the warmth of Minghao’s firm skin and muscle under another pair of these crappy polyester trousers.
Minghao ignores him – obviously, that’s the whole bit. It makes Vernon feel a whole lot of ways, some of them nicer than others, a lot of them very horny indeed.
“You are a little warm,” Minghao comments to Joshua, pulling back again. “Maybe you’re coming down with something? You look kind of flushed.”
“I don’t know what to do!” Joshua casts his eyes around, wide and beseeching and lost. He draws a deep breath, and then says, cautiously: “Maybe I should take my clothes off?”
Vernon fights both the impulse to snort with laughter and the impulse to start humming ‘Hot in Herre’, which make him a very good person. And Joshua absolutely intended him to have both those problems, which makes him a very bad person, but more fool him because Vernon is about to have multiple opportunities for revenge. And he watches as Joshua undoes his sparkly bowtie, shrugs off the black jacket covered in spangly stars and opens the top buttons of his shirt. It’s a cheap shirt, thin fabric, and Vernon can see his nipples, dark and pebbled. He goes in suddenly, telegraphing the move just enough that Joshua won’t instinctively push him away and spoil the game.
Joshua makes another high-pitched, breath-taken moan as Vernon rubs his chest. Leans his head back, baring his neck.
Vernon goes to his feet, keeps his left hand on Joshua’s nipple, thumb rubbing over and over through the fabric, and puts his right hand to cup at his groin, giving him something to thrust against. There’s a hint of dampness now soaking through the trousers. Vernon noses at the juncture of his neck – he smells good too, Joshua always smells good – and then forces himself to draw back, so that he won’t block Minghao’s path.
“Something really is wrong with you, hyung,” Minghao comments now, consideringly, his voice not altogether kind. He reaches out and runs a fingertip along Joshua’s chest, nearly, nearly touching the skin of Vernon’s hand. “Look at you. You’re getting yourself wet.”
Joshua whines at that, like it’s punched out of him. That was involuntary, Vernon knows Joshua’s noises well enough by now to know that, and he’s gripped by the urge to give Joshua what he’s pretending not to ask for.
“Oh no,” Joshua murmurs, “my clothes, I’m… No! I don’t want this!” He lightly covers himself with his hands, making no effort to hold onto any of the clothes Vernon has started to peel off him.
“Or maybe you do,” Minghao suggests. His voice is cold, calculating. “Maybe there is a ghost. Maybe it can tell the things you keep secret, like how much you absolutely do want this. You want this, don’t you? You like it, being all dirty and needy and red in front of me this way. Showing me how filthy you are.”
Vernon bites at the nearest thing to keep quiet, which happens to be the side of Joshua’s thigh, and Joshua hisses, briefly curling in on himself. Vernon feels the whisper of a touch to the back of his head before Joshua remembers and draws away. Joshua is naked now, his cock hard and jutting upwards, a drool of pre-come dripping from the end. Vernon touches it with his fingertip, slow and exploratory, and feels a stab of heat at the sound Minghao makes behind them. Minghao isn’t going to say anything mean to Vernon, because the whole point is he can’t see Vernon is there, but Vernon can try and imagine it anyway, no one has to know.
Joshua’s cock fits so nicely in Vernon’s mouth, a much more comfortable size than Minghao. And Joshua practically lives on fruit like he’s some kind of bat, so he tastes really good. Vernon can nurse on him like an ice-pop. Now Vernon licks round the edge of the head, up and over the slit, pushing his tongue in until Joshua gives a ragged cry and lets his torso fall back onto the bed, back arched.
Vernon knee-walks forward and grabs Joshua’s thigh, pushing it up and over his shoulder so he can get in better, going in for the taint now and then lower, trying to get everything wet and ready. The scent between Joshua’s legs is just as good as the rest of him, but darker and more intense - he keeps himself all waxed and trimmed; for a long time he’s been doing this with other people, too, but more recently Vernon’s wondered if maybe… Vernon pushes the tip of his tongue at Joshua’s rim as hard as he can, until he’s sore, until Joshua is making little movements with his hips, chasing the feeling.
“If you could see how you look now,” Minghao tells them – tells Joshua. At some point he’s moved to what sounds like standing behind Vernon’s left shoulder – that must give him quite an angle indeed.
Minghao and Joshua have been doing this, whatever this is, a long time. Minghao has photos of Joshua – hard copy photos, black and white, personally developed – going back to when he was skinnier and far shyer. Vernon found them in a shoebox under Minghao’s bed once, when he was looking for lube.
“Help me, Minghao-yah,” Joshua manages now, his voice cracking. One of his hands is splayed against the bedspread, fingers clawed and flexed like he’s trying to hold on. His other is balled at his own thigh – he must be itching to grab Vernon’s hair like he usually does. “I want…. I feel so strange! I don’t know what I want. What is this feeling?” His voice is thick, cracking, and a little like he’s drunk. Joshua is so good at this, at offering up the emotional impression he chooses to, which makes the times he actually lets you in even more addictive.
“You want to get fucked,” Minghao snaps. “I can see your hole from here, see how it’s opening and closing for this ghost, see how wet he’s getting you, but he can’t fuck you, can he? He’s just a ghost, he’s nothing. You wouldn’t even notice him if he tried to get inside you.”
Vernon has to pull away and rest his forehead on Joshua’s thigh again, panting. His mouth is dry. His knees are getting sore. He’s so turned on he can barely breathe. Minghao is right there behind him, and Vernon feels his own hole twitch hopelessly, an ache setting in deep inside.
Minghao sighs heavily. “Fine. I guess I’d better do it.”
Vernon can’t figure out quite how he gets out of the way, only that he does, ending up sitting on the floor with his arms round his knees, trying to resist the urge to hump into his own legs as he watches Minghao strip like some Greek goddess on her way to a sacred stream. You shouldn’t be able to drop polyester blend trousers off your massive boner gracefully, but Minghao moves like silk on the wind. His limbs are so long and so lean, dancer’s muscles tight and visible as he flexes. He’s not bulky or wide, he doesn’t have shoulders like Jihoon or Wonwoo or Mingyu, but nonetheless his waist tucks in narrower. One time Minghao dressed up in a full ballgown with a slit up the thigh, and stockings and garters, and these fucking five-alarm-fire-red stilettos, and he pushed the sole of his shoe directly into Vernon’s crotch and Vernon came just like that, whilst Joshua held him and swore like a marine.
Vernon had hooked up with Joshua first too, nearly two years ago now. It had been a long dry spell since Vernon’s ex, and maybe there was a poetic rightness that since he and Joshua spent so much of that summer yelling their way through a song about that dickhead, that it was backstage after one of them that Vernon worked up the courage to ask if maybe Joshua wouldn’t mind if Vernon went down on him.
Joshua had mixed them together without even asking either of them. One time Vernon had booty called – booty texted, he never made actual calls if he could avoid them – and the confirmatory thumbs-up emoji had really not contained many of the nuances of ‘another of our bandmates is already here and edging me to within an inch of my life while I do a terrifyingly brilliant job of pretending like I’ve never had sex in my life, so dock into that if you want to.’
Vernon hadn’t known what to do, standing there in the bedroom doorway, looking at them. But Minghao, after a moment, his eyes wide with a look Vernon had never seen before, had told him.
It’s kind of worked like that ever since, whatever it is, or isn’t. They don’t talk much about what they’re going to do in bed, and they don’t talk much about hanging out after it, but most of the time that happens too, Minghao gaming and Vernon listening to music and Joshua pottering about telling them he has a recipe he needed someone to test anyway.
Now, Minghao goes to the bedside table with the condoms in it – this is why they use Mingyu and Wonwoo’s room – and returns with his dick covered. Vernon could have put that on with his mouth, he knows Minghao likes it. But right now Minghao isn’t even looking at him.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Minghao murmurs at Joshua, coming to stand between his legs, Joshua still lying back on the bed, Minghao standing by the edge of it. He picks up both of Joshua’s legs, pushes them over his shoulders – he knows as well as Vernon, probably better, how flexible Joshua is and how much he likes that angle. “That’s right, you want it, don’t you?”
“No!” Joshua protests, shifting his hips forward just a little to make the reach easier. “No! I’ve no idea what you’re doing! Oh no! Not there!” His dick drips against his stomach, making a little stream down onto the bedspread. Vernon wants to lick it.
“You’re so hot and wet inside,” Minghao tells him, pushing in what looks like two and then three fingers. “That ghost really opened you up well, huh?”
Vernon’s breath catches.
“Good boy,” Minghao says – to Joshua, he’s focussed on Joshua, and thrusts in. Despite his character, he takes Joshua’s hand as Joshua reaches for him, and interlaces their fingers.
“Not there! It’s d-dirty!” Joshua repeats, stuttering on the rhythm Minghao is fucking into him, head thrown back.
“Dirty, dirty, dirty,” Minghao repeats, moving, and it sounds like something else altogether, even before his voice is fraying and breaking, mingling with Joshua’s moans as they both come.
For a moment, all Vernon can hear is heavy breathing. He’s not sure when he closed his eyes. He’s all heat, all electric charge, if he moves or thinks or even breathes himself it might spill out. And he’s supposed to be quiet, he’s supposed to be invisible, that’s the…
“Hey,” Minghao is whispering. Nearby. Near, like it’s meant for Vernon.
Vernon opens his eyes to see Minghao crouched there, right by his side, still red-faced, lips still parted as he catches his breath. He’s naked and the warmth radiates off him, and Joshua’s come is running down his abdomen, ready to fall to the carpet.
“Hey,” Minghao says again, and cradles Vernon’s face. He examines Vernon’s face, looking at him and looking at him and seeing - no one sees like Minghao, Minghao believes in things like spirits and lung mei energy lines and deionised water and the basic goodness of humanity and everything else Vernon has never been able to. Minghao looks at Vernon like he believes in him, strongly enough that one day he could even convince Vernon of it too.
“Your fucking mouth, Hansol Vernon Chwe.” It’s Joshua, at his other side, sliding his arms round him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, chuckling softly at the way it makes Vernon shudder. “You want me to do that to you now?”
“He isn’t verbal yet,” Minghao says. He sits down fully on the floor, and pulls Vernon towards him, until Vernon is arranged with his back to Minghao’s chest, sitting in the gap between Minghao’s spread legs, Minghao’s warmth and scent plastered all along his skin.
Vernon gasps.
“You did so well, you did so well, baby,” Minghao murmurs in his ear, and Joshua comes round in front of them, straddling both their right legs, and Vernon had almost lost his awareness of arousal in the sticky-toffee of this feeling, but when Joshua puts his hand to his groin it’s abruptly absolutely back, sharp, hungry.
“Suck,” Minghao instructs, pushing his fingers into Vernon’s mouth, and Vernon latches on with a full body tremor of relief, getting his saliva back, every part of him suddenly flowing. He’s filling, overspilling, too much, too messy, but that’s OK, because Minghao’s holding him together.
“Good boy,” Minghao tells him, and bites the shell of his ear as he pushes his fingers between Vernon’s legs, going below where Joshua is still gently fisting his cock. Probing. Pushing.
Vernon flexes, he can’t help it, but even as he writhes Minghao keeps him steady, and yes, those are Joshua’s hands on his shoulders, pinning him down. It means no hand on his cock, but that scarcely matters now, not with Minghao’s fingers big and blunt and just sore enough, and Minghao’s teeth digging a mark into his neck.
“Please” Vernon chokes, and Minghao chuckles and rocks him side to side as best he can. Joshua leans in, his mouth to Vernon’s, and kisses him and then draws back.
“We hear you, baby,” Joshua whispers, and Minghao hums in agreement, and Vernon shakes apart between them.