Ten knows he shouldn’t stare. Really, he does. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him these past few nights; normally, he is a consummate professional, and even the flashiest of customers never turn his head. Usually, the customers give him no more than a cursory glance as he sets down their drinks, if they are polite. Most of the typical patrons at the lounge are too busy watching the musicians or trying to charm their much younger dates to pay the waitstaff any mind. It doesn’t bother Ten. He has come to enjoy how he can move around the jazz club like a shadow, slipping between the haze of smoke and mirrored walls to settle into dark corners behind the array of red leather booths, waiting for the subtlest of hand signals to call him over to refill a glass or take an order.
He usually pays the patrons no more attention than they give him – it’s efficient and cold, but it works, and it’s that kind of professionalism and discretion that gives the Ace of Hearts jazz club such a golden reputation among the high-rollers of the city.
So, yes, staring at customers is certainly not in the job description. But can he help it, when one of the customers in question had called him over two nights prior to request a Manhattan, hold the cherries, and had made intense eye contact with him the entire time? Although Ten doesn’t normally stare, he recognizes most of the regular customers by face alone and can bring them their drink of choice before they fully settle into their seats. Ten is sure he would have remembered this man had he come in before tonight, as he is much younger than most of the regulars; he can’t be older than thirty, although the dim, smoky blue light of the club often masks the subtler signs of aging. The man had also ordered a whiskey neat for his friend who was yet to arrive.
Ten broke the eye contact – which was harder than it should have been, thanks to the deep amber color of the man’s eyes which seemed to pull at Ten like magnets - to give a curt bow of the head and slink off to the bar to place the order with the bartender. As he hovered by the bar, the music swelled to its final crescendo, followed by a low rumble of applause and pleased murmuring. When the band struck up its next tune, a soulful brass number, Ten’s eyes drifted to the booth where the tall man was sitting, long legs spread like he owned the place, head tilted appraisingly up at the stage. He must be a businessman of some sort, given the cut and quality of his dark grey suit. Advertising, maybe. Or the arts.
Because it was the middle of the week, the club was emptier than it would have been this late in the evening on a weekend. This gave Ten some time to catch his breath and enjoy the music. As he leaned against the alcove at the far end of the bar, his eyes again caught on the young man in the booth. The man turned his head suddenly towards the entrance and Ten followed his gaze to see a tall man striding between the tables, in an equally well-cut navy suit, his tie loosened slightly at the top. The man in the booth stood up and clasped the other man on the back, one hand resting on his shoulder while his other hand dipped to his lower back for an imperceptible moment. Both men settled into their seats and, after exchanging a few words in each other’s ears, leaned back to watch the musicians.
The bartender gently cleared her throat behind Ten and pushed the finished drinks towards him. Slightly embarrassed by the questioning look she gave him – he was usually not so easily distracted - he gave an apologetic smile and stacked the drinks carefully on his tray. He slipped between the tables and made his way down to the booth, minding the steps and ducking so as not to block anyone’s view of the performance.
He set the drinks down, keeping his eyes trained on the table, then turned to walk back to his regular spot by the wall.
“Wait.” Ten looked up at the voice, which cut clean through the music. He made sudden eye contact with the new arrival. Like his tall friend in the gray suit, this man was equally as young and almost alarmingly handsome, with a cold, teasing smile on his lips that complemented the firm dominance of his voice. “What is this?” the man asked, pointing to the crystal tumbler in front of him.
“Whiskey neat, sir. Is it to your liking?” Ten found it impossible to hold the gaze of this man any longer, so he settled his eyes on the man’s lips instead (not much better: they were dusky pink and angled into a sharp line in his unblemished face).
“No, not really. I’ve had a long day, boy, and whiskey always puts me on edge. Get me a glass of wine, would you?”
“Of course, sir, right away – ”
“Jaehyun, where are your manners? That’s no way to talk to a waiter.” Ten looked up in surprise at the tall man, who was now smiling kindly at him. “It’s my mistake – what’s your name?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Ten’s breath caught pathetically in his throat for a second before he regained his composure. “Ten, sir.”
The tall man’s smile grew. “It’s my mistake, Ten, I thought Jaehyun would be in the mood for liquor tonight, but it looks like I was wrong. I’ll keep the whiskey, and if you wouldn’t mind, he’ll have a glass of your finest cabernet sauvignon.” Ten braved a glance at Jaehyun, who was staring at Ten with a dark, unreadable expression. Impolite customers never bother Ten. They almost never get under his skin. Yet something about Jaehyun’s tone … it bothered him, but not in a way he could easily describe. He felt the barest hint of a flush begin to creep up his neck.
“Right away, sir, apologies for the confusion,” Ten replied quickly.
“None of this ‘sir’ business - just call me Johnny, and we’re all good.” Johnny settled back into the booth, where Ten couldn’t help but notice the way his hand drifted to rest on Jaehyun’s navy-clad thigh. Ten ducked his head, then hurried back to the bar for Jaehyun’s wine, certain he could feel both of their eyes on his retreating back.
Jaehyun and Johnny had come back the next night, and the night after that, settling into their same booth off to the side of the stage, where they would sit with their heads close together, often deep in a conversation. Sometimes Johnny would have his arm slung casually over the back of the booth behind where Jaehyun was sitting; other times, his hand would be on that same spot on Jaehyun’s thigh, holding it loosely yet somehow possessively. They didn’t chat with Ten either of these times, too absorbed in the performance or whatever it was they were talking about, but Ten was sure he caught them watching him – or maybe he imagined it, call it delusion or wishful thinking – their dark eyes following him as he made his silent rounds of the booths. Try as he might to ignore it, it always sent a thrill down his spine, a feeling like being caught in the gaze of a lion. Or, a pair of very hungry lions.
They don’t show up the next night, and Ten finds his eyes snapping to the door anytime new patrons enter through the dark blue velvet curtain marking the entrance of the room.
The Friday night crowd slowly begins filling up the booths at the Ace until every seat is taken, with many standing around tables by the back wall or milling around next to the stage. The band is on top of their game tonight; dressed in snazzy white suits, brass instruments freshly polished, they fill the club with music that has even the most stoic of old businessmen tapping their feet against the marble floors.
Ten’s childhood training as a ballet dancer serves him well on nights like these, as he balances a tray in each hand and swings himself through the lively crowd with practiced ease. While he prefers the relative quiet of weeknights, the tips are always better on weekends, thanks to the drunk, wealthy patrons who aren’t too cautious about parting with their pocket change.
The room soon fills with the ashy, sulfuric scent of cigar smoke. Ten maneuvers over to his usual alcove by the bar, tactfully avoiding eye contact with any customers. As he breathes in the clean air coming from the small window nearby, he makes eye contact with the bartender, Shuhua, who is currently on the receiving end of an ill-fated flirtation attempt by a much older woman decked out in an impressive amount of pearls. Shuhua rolls her eyes at him and he bites back a smile.
Shuhua catches his eye again, and she jerks her head meaningfully to a small table near the other end of the bar. Ten panics for a moment, worried that the floor manager must have seen him sneak off for the break, but his stomach drops to the floor when he catches sight of the two familiar faces.
Standing at least a foot above everyone next to them are Johnny and Jaehyun. Johnny is well-dressed as ever, this time in a pin-striped charcoal suit that hugs the outline of his body, while Jaehyun is unusually casual in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing strong forearms. They are both leaning against the table with their drink of choice in hand, deep in conversation as usual. He can’t help the way his face heats up when he sees them, and he sinks further back into the shadow of the alcove, hoping they hadn’t noticed him and yet somehow wishing they would.
Ten feels Shuhua’s eyes on him. He can almost imagine the knowing look she gives him. Is he really that obvious? He straightens out his waistcoat and takes a calming breath. He can’t remember the last time he was this flustered, for any reason. Just as he is about to grab his tray and set off back into club, he sneaks a glance towards the end of the bar and finds two sets of eyes watching him.
Jaehyun’s dark gaze flicks over him for a moment before he looks away to drain his wineglass. Johnny looks at him a moment longer, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. Ten is sure they must be able to hear the racing of his heart from there. As before, he can’t pull his eyes away from Johnny, who seems to hold him in a trance. Johnny breaks the spell when he raises his tumbler between two slender fingers and shakes it, still looking at Ten. Ten stares at him, confused, before realizing that Johnny’s glass is empty. Hoping that the room is dim enough to hide his flush, which has only deepened, he stumbles out of the alcove and hurries over to the small table.
In their usual spot in the booth, Johnny and Jaehyun’s size has always been apparent; yet, standing next to him now, they tower over him. He notices that Johnny is a bit taller, but Jaehyun is broader. Ten lets his gaze fall somewhere in the air between the two of them (not that there is much air there; they are standing awfully close, with Jaehyun’s massive arm pushing up against Johnny’s shoulder).
“Refill, sir?” Ten breathes, secretly pleased at how even his voice sounds.
He feels rather than hears Johnny chuckle, a deep, throaty sound that seems to cut through the air between them.
“What did I say last time? Please, call me Johnny.”
“Yes, Johnny, sir. A refill for you?” When Johnny doesn’t respond, Ten forces himself to look up. Johnny has one dark eyebrow raised at him. Jaehyun just watches, face tactfully blank.
“Your name is Ten, isn’t that right?” Johnny drawls.
“Yes, sir. I mean – yes,” Ten mutters, feeling heat begin to pool somewhere deep inside him from the way Johnny is looking at him. The feeling of Jaehyun’s gaze on his cheek isn’t helping, either. A slight grin grows across Johnny’s face, and he makes eye contact with Jaehyun for the briefest of moments.
“Sure, Ten, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll have a refill. Then we’ll take the check. It’s been quite a long night.”
“Not long enough,” Jaehyun says suddenly, the stone mask of his face cracking just slightly to let a dangerous smile slip through. Ten wants to fall through the floor. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he reaches for Johnny’s empty tumbler. Johnny must be feeling merciful because he lets Ten take the glass from his hand without much resistance.
Ten turns on his heel and scurries back to the bar, so distracted that he almost knocks into another waiter carrying a tray full of champagne glasses. After apologizing profusely, he makes it the final three feet to the bar, certain that Johnny and Jaehyun had seen the whole thing and fills the glass himself. He pointedly ignores Shuhua’s snickering.
After a few calming breaths and a glass of ice water, Ten carries the whiskey and the check on the tray and sets it on the table in front of the two men. Jaehyun’s suit jacket is back on and he has two long overcoats slung over his arm. Ten turns again to leave, but Johnny holds out a hand and says, “wait -” before downing the drink in one go and slamming it back on the table. He slides a wad of bills deftly out of his pocket and onto the tray without looking at the price on the check. “Keep the change.”
With that, Johnny and Jaehyun are gone as quickly as they entered, leaving Ten a bit breathless and red all over. Ten leaves the money by the register and goes about the rest of his shift still fully distracted, thinking about the warm intensity of Johnny’s gaze and the powerful muscle of Jaehyun’s pale forearms.
By midnight, the club is still in full swing, but Ten’s shift is done. As he and Shuhua are sitting on the ratty couch in the changing room to sort through the tips for the night, he spots a folded piece of cream white paper flutter out from a stack of bills. Shuhua catches it first. Ten watches with mild curiosity as she unfolds the paper. A weird expression grows across her face, and she looks up at Ten with a look somewhere between curiosity and incredulity.
“What?” Instead of answering, she hands the paper to him.
Written in a long, slanted handwriting is a short message, just five words that set his ears on fire. Ten - the Plaza, room 920
A cold rain had started to fall by the time Ten steps off the bus. Some other people are out, but the streets are mostly quiet save for the distant rumbling of traffic and the rustling of wind in the trees from the park across the street.
The doors of the hotel are closed but the lobby inside is brightly lit and casts a glowing yellow rectangle onto the street outside. A bellhop swings the door open for him, and he steps self-consciously through the doorway into the swanky interior, feeling entirely out of place among the crystal chandeliers, rich mahogany furniture, elaborate murals, and gleaming tiled floors. He feels like he has stepped into Milan, or maybe Vienna. He walks quickly past the check-in desk, avoiding eye contact with the clerks. A few guests sit by the bar on the far side of the lobby, where the delicate sounds of a piano echo off the marble floors.
Ten is surprised to find an attendant in the elevator, who politely bats Ten’s hand away when he tries to push the button himself. “Nine, please,” he mutters, embarrassed, and resigns himself to fixing his hair in the mirrored wall of the elevator. The change of clothes he had brought to work – a pair of black jeans, beige knit sweater, and canvas sneakers – suddenly feel way too casual when he thinks about Johnny and Jaehyun’s expensive-looking suits. Whatever, it’ll have to do.
The elevator reaches the ninth floor much sooner than Ten would have liked, as his hair is still a bit of a spiky mess when the attendant kindly ushers him out. Compared with the quiet chatter of the lobby, the hallway is almost completely silent. A plush patterned rug dampens the sound of his footsteps as he walks down the hall, scanning the numbers on the doors: 914, 916, 918, 920. He stops in front of a normal-looking white door. His heart is pounding out of his chest, and yet, compared with the swell of nerves from earlier, now he feels an excited thrill course through him. He steels himself and knocks once, twice – then suddenly, there is Johnny, still in his suit but with the jacket removed. Johnny positively beams down at him, and Ten feels his knees weaken under the gaze. The room behind Johnny seems dark.
“You came,” Johnny says. It isn’t a question, so Ten doesn’t respond. All he can do is meet Johnny’s eyes and nod. Johnny steps back and lets Ten inside, but the entryway is narrow and Ten feels the heat and closeness of Johnny’s body as he slips past Johnny into the room.
It is smaller than he was expecting – just a modest (yet still richly decorated), two-roomed hotel suite, with a large king-sized bed in the middle and bar in the corner, dimly lit by two stained-glass lamps. Ten’s eyes are immediately drawn to the bed, and not because of the thread count of the sheets or the impressive embroidery of the duvet cover.
Jaehyun is clad only in a pair of boxers, splayed out on his back against the pillows with one arm folded casually behind his head. He looks over when Ten walks in and makes no move to cover himself. Ten can’t help himself; he lets his gaze rove over Jaehyun’s wide frame, starting from his suspiciously rumpled hair to the muscular plane of his abdomen, down his long legs and feet.
Ten startles when Johnny materializes next to him and rests a hand gently on his shoulder.
“I hope you’ll forgive me; we weren’t sure if you’d come, and Jaehyun got a little impatient.”
Ten swallows down the small whimper that threatens to escape his throat once he realizes what Johnny means. “Oh,” is all he can say. Just now, he notices the pinkness of Jaehyun’s cheeks and the heaving of his chest, and – Ten feels a throb of arousal course through him at the sight – the bulge that presses conspicuously against the hem of his shorts. He was pretty sure what their note had been implying, although he had had the nagging worry that he had read the signals wrong. But no, he is pretty sure that is situation is exactly what it looks like.
Johnny removes his hand from Ten’s shoulder and steps over to the bar, leaving Ten to continue staring like an idiot at Jaehyun, who had started rubbing his free hand over his chest, and up and down his abs.
“Do you want a drink, Ten? You must have had a long day at work,” Johnny says in a completely jovial, conversational tone, as though one of the sexiest men Ten has ever seen had not just closed his eyes and started moaning quietly to himself while rubbing a hand over his own body like neither of them were there.
Ten’s mouth is dry as sandpaper and his pants are starting to feel uncomfortably tight. Yet he manages to snap himself out of the haze of arousal that consumes him to turn to Johnny, blinking, and says, “oh, no thanks. I don’t drink.” Johnny smiles and sets the bottle of V.S.O.P and empty glass back down on the counter.
“Water, then?” Ten nods gratefully as Johnny hands him an unopened bottle of water from the minifridge below the bar. That was a lie; Ten does drink, but he hasn’t worked in the nightlife industry for as long as he has to start accepting open drinks from strangers. Even if those strangers are regular customers and aren’t setting off any alarm bells in his head (and just in case, Shuhua knows exactly where he is). The cool water calms him down, though he still feels a bit dizzy.
Johnny watches him curiously. “Are you feeling okay? I know it can be a bit intimidating, the two of us together.” Ten shakes his head.
“I’m fine. I’m good,” he says.
“Good,” Johnny responds, and he sounds like he means it. “Why don’t you get comfortable, then? Your feet must be killing you.” Ten nods in response and slips off his shoes, which he sets down by the entrance to the room. As tempted as he is to climb onto the bed next to Jaehyun, he instead folds himself carefully into an armchair a few feet from the bed, face burning at the feeling of Jaehyun’s nearly naked body so close to him.
Johnny walks from the bar to the bed and perches himself on the edge of the bed. He rolls up his shirt sleeves. “If you’d rather watch for now, I can show you what we were doing while we were waiting for you.” At this, Jaehyun finally opens his eyes and grins up at Johnny.
“Sounds good to me,” Jaehyun says in a low, throaty voice.
“Of course it sounds good to you, you greedy princess,” Johnny teases, even as he crawls onto the bed towards Jaehyun, still in his slacks and button-up. Ten doesn’t know what to do with his hands, doesn’t know what to do with himself, but he can’t look away when Jaehyun swivels his head to hold his gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. Johnny places a large hand on Jaehyun’s bare thigh. Jaehyun shudders, biting his lip, but doesn’t break eye contact with Ten.
Ten’s mouth falls open as Johnny rests his other hand on Jaehyun, sliding them up and down his long thighs. Jaehyun’s muscles tense under Johnny’s touch but he doesn’t move, just breathes out a shaky sigh as his eyelids flutter slightly.
Johnny slips one hand under Jaehyun’s boxers and Jaehyun lets out a gasp, arching up into the touch. The look on Johnny’s face is so different from how he had looked a moment ago; now, he stares intently down at Jaehyun with a look of pure desire, his own lips parted slightly around deep sighs when Jaehyun twitches under him. Just when Jaehyun starts getting really worked up, Johnny suddenly leans down and traces his lips along the pink expanse of Jaehyun’s chest, breathing hot onto his skin.
Ten is dizzy. His head is spinning from how aroused he is; he doesn’t think he has ever seen something so … so hot in his entire life. He doesn’t know where to look – the flushed pout painted across Jaehyun’s beautiful face, the strong arch of Johnny’s back as he leans over Jaehyun, the hint of tongue that flashes when Johnny moves his mouth up to Jaehyun’s pretty, muscular neck. He doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know what to do. His hand drifts reflexively down to his own lap, where he has become almost painfully hard beneath the tight fabric of his jeans. He presses his palm into himself; this relieves some of the pressure, but it isn’t enough. He slips his other hand under his sweater and traces circles over his chest, which is now flushed and heaving from his rapid breathing and swipes his thumb over a nipple. He can’t help the whine that slips out of his mouth at the touch – it’s too much, it’s all too much.
At the sudden sound, Johnny pulls his face away from where he had been busy painting Jaehyun’s neck with his tongue, to look over at Ten. Ten feels a brief flash a shame creep across his face, but it feels too good to stop, so he holds Johnny’s gaze even as he continues rubbing at himself. Johnny and Jaehyun are now both looking at him, a feeling which is entirely overwhelming, but not for the reason Ten would have expected. The shame is quickly forgotten, replaced instead by a weird pride – even power – he feels, from having both of these powerful men watching him, wanting to put on a show for him.
Suddenly – “come here,” Johnny practically growls at him. Almost like he is being pulled by a magnet, Ten stands and walks to the edge of the bed. Johnny takes his hands off Jaehyun – who is more than happy to replace Johnny’s hands with his own – and stands next to Ten. Ten is at eye-level with Johnny’s sternum, and he can see the flush of pink below the crisp whiteness of his shirt.
“Can I take this off?” Ten hears himself saying, his fingers drifting of their own accord to the pearlescent buttons on Johnny’s shirt.
“Please do,” Johnny murmurs. Behind them, Jaehyun has started up his moaning again. Ten finds that his fingers are shaking when he undoes the first button, then the second, the third, - until just one button holds the fabric together. The muscular plane of Johnny’s chest is slowly revealed to him, and Ten breathes out a pleased noise when Johnny shrugs his shoulders and the rest of his shirt slides away, onto the floor by his feet. Johnny is leaner than Jaehyun, but his muscles are no less defined, and Ten instinctively lifts his hands to feel.
“Nuh-uh,” Johnny scolds gently, reaching up to circle his hands around Ten’s slender wrists before he can touch him. “You too.” Ten blushes, then reaches down to pull his sweater over his head in one swift movement. Johnny pulls delicately at the waistband of Ten’s jeans and Ten takes the hint, pulling off his jeans and briefs as gracefully as he can. Almost immediately, Johnny loops his long arms around Ten’s waist and runs his hands up his sides. “Beautiful,” Johnny breathes. His fingers brush a particularly sensitive spot just above Ten’s hips and Ten shudders into the touch.
They are both breathing unsteadily, and Ten wants nothing more than to press his hips into Johnny’s and touch him until he loses sensation in his fingertips. He waits instead for Johnny to make the next move. Johnny does – lifting one hand to grip firmly at the back of Ten’s head, he cranes his long neck down towards Ten, stopping just shy of his mouth.
Ten can feel Johnny’s hot breath on his face, tinged by the faint, bitter scent of whiskey. He watches Johnny’s tongue dart out to wet his lower lip, then closes his eyes when Johnny closes the miniscule gap between their mouths.
Johnny’s mouth is hot and his tongue presses immediately against the seam of Ten’s lips. Ten parts for him easily and lets Johnny take control of the kiss. His whole body is on fire, white-hot pleasure spreading in tingly waves from his lips through his veins and nerve endings. Johnny lets Ten suck at his thick upper lip for a blissful moment then regains control, letting their lips fall apart for an unbearable second as he angles Ten’s body towards the bed.
Ten’s knees catch on the edge of the mattress and suddenly he is falling back on to the bed with Johnny pressing down into him, slotting their hips together in slow, grinding movements. Ten whimpers into Johnny’s mouth, which elicits a deep groan in response. Johnny pushes him further up the bed, setting him carefully down so his head falls onto a fluffy pillow. Ten grabs greedily at Johnny’s shoulders, pulling him down on top of him again.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” comes a voice to Ten’s left. Ten pulls his face reluctantly away from the warmth of Johnny’s mouth to come face-to-face with Jaehyun, who looks even more riled up than he had before – and all from just touching himself while Johnny and Ten went at it, Ten realizes with a thrill.
“Of course not, babe,” Johnny pants, extracting himself from Ten’s grasp. Johnny sits back on his heels and Ten’s breath hitches at the sight of Johnny’s erection straining against his slacks. “Why don’t we let Ten have a go at you?” Ten’s heart hammers out of his chest while Jaehyun smirks at this, letting his arms fall back behind his head.
Ten nods up at Johnny’s questioning look. He rolls onto his side and turns to face Jaehyun, who still looks up at him with that bratty, expectant look of his.
Ten isn’t sure where to start, for a moment. He wants so desperately to touch Jaehyun, to touch all of him, but he also wants to impress Johnny, to impress them both. He crawls forward on his knees, flushing as Jaehyun’s gaze wanders over his exposed body.
For some reason Jaehyun is still wearing his boxers, which aren’t doing a very good job at containing his arousal. Ten follows Johnny’s path up Jaehyun’s thighs with his own hands, then tugs gently at the hem of his boxers. The fabric falls away almost immediately, and Jaehyun’s erection springs out, thick and pink from all the attention Jaehyun had already been giving it. Ten lets out a noise deep in his throat at the sight. He turns behind him to look for Johnny – for what, exactly, he’s not sure; approval, permission, maybe. Johnny still rests on his heels, his gaze dark with want as he watches the two of them.
Ten turns back to Jaehyun, then finishes pulling his boxers all the way down his legs. He positions himself between Jaehyun’s thighs. Just as he is about to lean down, he feels Johnny’s warm, strong hand rest on his back. Johnny runs his hand up and down the delicate arch of Ten’s spine; the movement is both reassuring and firm, restrained yet needy. Johnny pushes ever-so-slightly on Ten’s back, lowering him the rest of the way to Jaehyun’s length.
Ten wraps his hand around the base, which is thicker than it looks as his hand just barely fits all the way around. Above him, Jaehyun sighs. Ten wants to look at him, but he still finds himself intimidated by Jaehyun’s statuesque beauty, so he focuses on the heavy weight of Jaehyun in his hands instead. Jaehyun, already so hard, throbs under his grasp.
Jaehyun’s erection is impossibly warm in his mouth and sits heavy on his tongue. Above him, Johnny continues to run his hand over Ten’s back, and Ten feels something wet on his skin: it is Johnny, who has begun kissing and sucking at his upper back and neck with increasing intensity.
Ten tightens his grasp around Jaehyun and takes the rest of him in his mouth, twisting his hand as he runs his tongue up and down the length. Jaehyun, finally putting his hands to use other than to touch himself, runs his fingers through Ten’s hair, guiding Ten’s mouth around him at a faster pace.
Ten hums around him and Jaehyun groans in response, bucking his hips up reflexively. Ten pulls himself off to cough, then dips right back down to resume his pace. Jaehyun’s moans get deeper and louder, and Ten feels him throbbing and twitching against his tongue.
“Johnny,” Jaehyun gasps out in a strangled kind of moan. Ten lets Jaehyun fall out of his mouth and makes room for Johnny, who grabs Jaehyun in his hand and starts rubbing until Jaehyun spills over Johnny’s fingers and onto his own stomach. Jaehyun arches his back and whines, locking his eyes with Ten as Johnny works him through it. Johnny murmurs low words to Jaehyun until Jaehyun finally relaxes against the bed, breathing out a shaky sigh and closing his eyes. Johnny reaches for a box of tissues to wipe his hand, then discards the tissue carelessly over the side of the bed.
Johnny must be some kind of superhuman – as far as Ten knows, he hasn’t touched himself once this entire encounter, and his erection is still straining against his pants completely untouched. Johnny notices Ten watching and chuckles. “I’m very patient,” he says, as though that explains it.
Ten’s mouth feels red and stretched out and his jaw hurts a bit, but he is too far gone to care. Ten is sure Jaehyun would have fallen asleep by now, but his eyes are open slightly and he watches Johnny and Ten lazily.
“What do you want me to do now?” Ten asks, blushing. His voice sounds hoarse, and Johnny notices.
“I’ll get you some water, then I’ll show you what I want, okay?” Johnny says, again with that perfect mixture of dominance and gentle reassurance. Ten nods, pink in the face, then leans down against the pillows next to Jaehyun. To his surprise, Jaehyun makes a kind of beckoning motion and parts his lips. Ten catches on and makes no hesitation to roll against Jaehyun and lick into his mouth. Jaehyun’s body is hot, almost burning up, and still a bit sticky, but that makes it so much sweeter. Ten tangles their legs together as the kiss turns lazy, mostly just the messy glide of tongues and the occasional pull of a lip between teeth. Jaehyun rolls their hips together and Ten almost jumps at how good the sudden friction feels against him. Jaehyun smells sweet like cologne and fresh sweat.
“Still thirsty?” comes Johnny’s amused voice from above them. Ten pulls himself reluctantly away from Jaehyun to look up at Johnny, who is holding a tall glass of water in one hand.
“Parched,” Ten says, and the scratchy quality of his voice attests to that. He sits up and drains the glass, then sets in on the nightstand. He can feel himself becoming bolder. “Alright, now what would you like me to do, sir?” Beside him, Jaehyun lets out a quiet laugh.
Johnny’s expression remains amused, though something more dangerous flashes across his eyes. “What did I say about that, hm? Just Johnny.”
“Okay, Johnny, sir.” Ten is pushing his luck, he knows that. He’s not afraid of Johnny but he is afraid that Johnny might change his mind and decide not to let Ten touch him. Which would be a travesty, of course. Johnny stares at him. Ten feels himself become flustered under that amber gaze.
“On your stomach, then,” Johnny says suddenly, striding over to the bed and climbing on.
“What about your pants?” Ten asks, though he does as Johnny says, excitement pooling in his gut as he settles onto his stomach, propping himself up slightly with a raised knee.
“He likes to leave them on,” Jaehyun says lazily, stifling a yawn even as he looks down at Ten’s plump ass with a very interested expression.
“Really?” Ten asks, feeling slightly disappointed that he won’t get to feel Johnny (at least, not in the way he was hoping).
Johnny swats at Jaehyun’s shin. “You’ve had your turn, princess, this isn’t about you,” he says, his tone loving despite the barely concealed annoyance.
“What? It’s true,” Jaehyun mutters, settling deeper into the cushions and yawning again.
The sheets are smooth against Ten’s skin and he rubs his cheek against them. His own neglected erection is trapped between his body and the mattress, so he rubs his hips down slightly to relieve some of the pressure. He feels Johnny’s firm hand rest on his waist, then the rest of Johnny’s huge body follows, holding Ten closer against the mattress. The clothed mass of Johnny’s impressive length presses against his ass as Johnny starts to move, breathing hot and heavy onto Ten’s neck as Ten rolls up his hips to meet Johnny. Johnny props himself up on one forearm to give Ten more room to move and lets Ten take over most of the movement. Johnny starts groaning out pleased noises deep in his ear, which encourages Ten to roll his hips up faster, hardly aware of the burn in his lower back and thighs. The fabric of Johnny’s pants and the sheets against his bare skin have him tingling from head to toe, moaning into his own arm, his mouth falling open and wet.
Johnny drags himself deeper and firmer – or as deep as he can go with his heavy arousal still fully trapped in his slacks – stuttering his hips into Ten. Ten angles his ass higher up and Johnny grabs him by his stomach, hauling him back onto his lap. They move together like this until Johnny finally takes Ten into his hand, squeezing and timing the movement of his hand to that of his hips. The feeling is overwhelming but incredible, and he still hasn’t even touched Johnny properly. Ten can’t believe how good it feels, to have Johnny touch him like this, to have Johnny need him like this. He lets desperate moans fall out of his lips when Johnny grips him tighter, feeling the telltale build-up of warmth in his gut.
He reaches around behind him to grab desperately at Johnny’s biceps and hair, tugging at the raven-black strands with desperate need. Johnny takes the hint and tightens his grip, raising his other hand to clutch it around Ten’s waist, digging his fingers into the soft flesh. The sensation is beyond amazing, feeling himself get bounced around on Johnny’s lap, feeling the growing wetness in Johnny’s pants when he presses down against him.
Johnny whispers shakily into his ear, “doing so good,” and that’s all it takes for the heat in Ten’s gut to overwhelm him until suddenly he is trembling in Johnny’s grasp, white-hot pleasure pulsing through his entire body as Johnny continues murmuring in his ear. His thighs are shaking but he keeps moving himself anyway, trying to feel Johnny’s hardness against him for as long as possible. Eventually Johnny eases him off slowly and lowers him down next to Jaehyun again, who watches through one open eye. There is a buzzing in his ears and spots in his vision, but Ten feels as light as a cloud, fully blissed out.
Ten opens his eyes long enough to see Johnny pressing his palm against his crotch with one, two presses, until he throws his head back with a loud moan and the dark spot against the front of his pants grows. Johnny stays like that for a long moment as his breathing slowly returns to normal, allowing Ten to admire the tanned expanse of his neck and wide shoulders, a completely wrecked expression on his handsome face. Eventually Johnny opens his eyes and smiles down at Ten. He pats Jaehyun’s foot, then climbs off the bed towards the bathroom, flicking off one of the lamps on his way over.
Ten doesn’t remember Johnny coming back to bed, as he falls asleep almost as soon as Johnny dims the lights. Yet when he wakes the next morning, slightly disoriented and more than a bit sore in his lower back and thighs, he finds Johnny sleeping deeply between the two of them, his muscular chest rising and falling slowly in the low morning light. Beside him, Jaehyun is curled up into Johnny’s other side, one arm slung across his chest.
Ten dresses quickly, searching for his discarded clothes in the still-dark room. Before he leaves, he casts a look back at the bed and feels a swelling in his chest at the sight. As tempting as it is to crawl back into the warm bed, he can’t stay. He opens and closes the door as quietly as he can behind him, then takes the staircase all the way down to the first floor. He can barely stay awake on the bus, and after letting himself into the side entrance of the Ace with the spare key, conks out on the couch in the staff room until Shuhua finds him at 3 in the afternoon, snoring loudly and wearing the same clothes from the day before.
Ten still knows he shouldn’t stare. But he still can’t help himself, not when just two nights later, a tall man and his handsome companion settle themselves into their usual red booth by the stage, order their usual whiskey and glass of red wine, and watch Ten with a look of such unrestrained desire that it makes him weak in the knees and pink in the face. He shouldn’t stare; but is it so bad to stare, if the two men started staring at him first?