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An episode of One Piece blares in the background as Chan mops the floor. Luffy’s monologue about friendship barely registers in Chan’s mind. He’s too busy watching specks of dirt and grime lift whenever he passes the damp cloth over the ground.
It’s tiresome and boring. Still, Chan hasn’t been able to do anything else productive with his day. For some reason, the past few days have been rough. Nothing major has happened, at least nothing that could warrant such a dip in mood. However, here he is, somewhat sad and feeling like the world is a puddle of bleak tears.
Taking the day off from work was probably necessary, even if he hasn’t been able to relax at all. The thing is, he’s not exactly the best at letting his mind slow down. Far too often does he find himself going through old conversations where he’s done something foolish. Sometimes, he even imagines scenes that haven’t happened but where he ultimately does something wrong, and everyone ends up hating him for it.
He knows it’s irrational.
Yet, he can’t seem to stop.
He places the dirty mop back into the contraption and spins it several times before making one final pass, the ending song of the One Piece episode playing. When he’s done, he grabs the mop and bucket, bringing them to the bathroom where he throws the soiled water into the toilet.
“And what now?” he mumbles to himself.
“So you’re talking to yourself now?”
Chan lets out a surprised yelp, the mop falling to the ground. He storms out of the bathroom to see who’s there. Cold tiles turn to warmer wooden floors, and Chan’s frantic eyes fall upon Minho’s form - the man busy kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket.
“Minho,” Chan breathes out, swallowing the panic that threatened to form.
A set of deep brown eyes and a sly smile find his face. Minho walks forward with a light spring in his step, the back of his hand immediately reaching for Chan’s forehead.
“Jeongin mentioned you took the day off,” Minho says, brows furrowed. “But you don’t have a fever?”
Chan twists away from the touch. A sense of guilt slowly forming. “Yeah, I-”
“Wow, it’s so clean in here.”
Minho’s hand crawls around Chan’s back, his hand already on the mop, ready to help clean up the last bits. Chan’s pulled forward into the kitchen and living area, a blush slowly creeping up his neck as Minho offers a string of praises.
“It was nothing,” Chan shrugs.
“It’s not nothing,” Minho laughs. “I’m pretty sure Jisung’s socks from two weeks ago were on the floor. Don’t get me started on the disgusting layer of dust above the TV.”
Their bodies move closer as Chan laughs shyly, still unable to fully accept the compliment. However, as Minho leans in and rewards him with a chaste kiss, everything suddenly seems a bit lighter. “One more,” he whispers, melting when Minho smiles and offers another soft kiss.
Although the two of them would have loved to continue, Minho’s phone rings, a shrill sound that brings Chan straight back to reality.
“I have to take this,” Minho sighs, eyes apologetic.
Chan only shrugs, swallowing hard as he musters up a brave smile. “Of course,” he says, watching Minho walk away and answer the incoming call. When he’s out of sight, Chan returns to the kitchen and reaches for a cloth. He wets it again and drags it over the kitchen counter he’s already washed three times.
Only when Changbin returns home does Chan feel a bit more at ease.
“Smells fresh in here,” Changbin says and walks up to Chan, humming cutely as he wraps his hands around his waist. “Do you feel okay? You don’t look that sick.”
“I’m fine,” Chan smiles.
Despite the weak attempt, Changbin seems to accept it. But he also uses the back of his hand to check Chan’s forehead.
“No fever,” Chan chuckles, lifting his hands and taking a step back.
Changbin’s eyes narrow for a moment, pink lips lodged between his teeth. “But do you feel okay? You look-”
Chan dismisses him, head shaking as he reaches for the cloth. “I’m fine, really.” He does a fifth pass over the counter before he rinses the cloth. No dirt or crumbs fall into the sink. Yet, Chan reaches for the disinfectant. Even Changbin’s chaste kiss on his cheek is covered by the sound of Chan spraying down the counter.
In his peripheral vision, he sees Changbin walk towards Minho’s room, peeking inside to greet the other. Then he disappears. And everything is quiet once more.
Except for Chan’s mind.
He really shouldn’t have taken a day off. Even missing one day sets him back quite a lot, and he puts more pressure on everyone else who has to cover for him. Tomorrow, he’ll work harder and make sure that every task is finished before he goes home, even if that means he won’t clock out until the evening.
The spray bottle falls to the floor.
“Fuck!”
He bends over, reaches for the bottle, but his fingers finds no purchase. Frowning, Chan clutches his chest. Why does it hurt? He blinks rapidly, the bottle coming in and out of focus - and he reaches out again, fingers curling around the item.
As he straightens, the world spins.
“Chan?”
From somewhere in the room, a voice jumps from wall to wall, somehow only managing to stay in the back of Chan’s mind. “I’m fine,” he manages to utter, staggering forward to place the spray on the counter, but it topples over and falls into the sink. “Shit,” he swears again.
When did it get so hot in here?
“Chan, you have to breathe.”
“He looks too pale.”
Familiar voices surge around him, but Chan can’t hear a single thing over his thumping heart. He digs his fingers into his chest, clawing nervously at the skin. It feels like his heart will burst at the speed it’s going. Like it will explode and Chan will cease to exist.
“Am I having a heart attack?” he asks, mostly to himself, but hands are on him immediately, dragging him back down on the floor. His back falls flush with the kitchen counters, and the blurry images of Minho and Changbin come into sight.
“Breathe, baby,” Changbin whispers. “Breathe.”
Minho’s hand is in his hair, carding the damp curls away from his forehead. Soft thumbs rub circles into his temples, soothing and calming.
“It’s okay,” Changbin continues, one hand on Chan’s chest and one on his own. “Feel this? he says?” placing Chan’s hand over Changbin’s.
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
The steady thud of Changbin’s pulse slowly sends Chan into a transfixed state. His legs go weak as he focuses. Slowly, the world stops feeling so crowded and unwelcoming. A lingering sense of unease continues to swim in the back of his mind, but at least he doesn’t feel like it will consume him.
“There you are,” Minho murmurs, rubbing Chan’s temples one last time before he cups his cheeks.
Chan blinks slowly, nodding. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I really am fine, I just suddenly felt a bit-”
Soft lips swarm his, swallowing the words he was about to say. Minho kisses the corner of his mouth, once on each side, before pulling back. “Tell us,” he whispers. “What’s wrong?”
When Minho puts more distance between them, Chan fights the urge to whine. He shakes his head, eyes roaming both of his boyfriend’s worried faces. “Nothing’s wrong, I just felt dizzy that’s all.”
Changbin groans, his hand now on the back of Chan’s head. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “You had a panic attack, and while those can certainly come out of nowhere, they usually don’t with you.”
It hurts to hear how correct Changbin is. The words run circles in Chan’s mind before he screws his eyes shut and nods. “I just feel so stressed. I don’t know why- can’t quite place it. But I took the day off so I could just stay home and rest,” he drags his thumb over his palm repeatedly, “but then I couldn’t do that, and so I’ve been cleaning all day. Fuck, if I stop, then it feels like my mind is about to explode.”
He doesn’t even know that he’s crying until his tears soak into Changbin’s t-shirt. Strong arms wrap around his shoulders, and in that very moment, Chan feels so small and so insignificant. When Changbin hugs him, Minho speaks softly.
“Hyung, you know you can lean on us, right? We’re here for you, for each other.”
Chan grits his teeth. “But I don’t want to be a burden,” he says, words muffled by Changbin’s t-shirt. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you all.”
That last sentence earns him a pinch in the side and a flick to the forehead. “Idiot,” Minho and Changbin say in unison.
“You deserve to be taken care of as well,” Changbin says, pulling away from Chan. He keeps a hand flat on his chest, forcing Chan to stay in place.
Minho seeks Changbin’s face, a slight sparkle to his otherwise narrow eyes. “I think I might have an idea.”
When Changbin huffs and his hand digs into Chan’s pocket to fish out his phone, Chan knows that whatever happens next is something they won’t let him get out of. “What are you doing?” he tries to ask, but Minho’s body is suddenly all over him. Hands rake through his hair, and a set of lips pulls at the sensitive skin under his ear.
The sound of a shutter goes off, and Changbin giggles. “There we go. They’ve been notified.”
“They? Give me my phone back, what did you just-”
“Relax,” Minho murmurs into his ear, hot air seeping into his skin. “We’ll take good care of you. We’ll make sure you won’t be able to think about anything at all.”
A hand slips between his legs.
“All you need to do is focus on how good we’ll make you feel.”
Hesitant sounds and unsure eyes quickly turn pleasure-filled as Minho and Changbin run their hands over his body. It’s as if with every pinch, every caress, and every flick over sensitive skin fills his mind with cotton.
Changbin’s hand ventures under his hoodie, squeezing his sides before crawling up to his chest, gently rubbing his already hard nipples between his fingers. A rush of pleasure rushes through his body, and Chan lets out a sigh of relief - one which Minho immediately takes advantage of by licking into his mouth.
“You’re so soft, Channie,” Changbin murmurs, having explored most of Chan’s torso. “Well,” he laughs, “soft but also firm.” Changbin’s fingers run over Chan’s abs, tickling the sensitive skin and forcing his muscles to contract,
“I wonder if you’re firm somewhere else, too,” Changbin continues and slides his hand further down, making quick work of Chan’s pants. With some help from both of them, they free Chan from his confinement, hoodie along with it.
A pleased hum, comparable to a purr, slips past Minho’s lips, and soon, he licks a stripe down Chan’s neck. “We’re going to make you forget everything,” he says, teeth dragging over Chan’s collarbones. “Make you feel so good all you can think about is who will ride you next.”
Then, Chan’s world turns even foggier. He watches as Minho and Changbin lower their bodies until they practically lay on each side of Chan’s legs, eyes wide and filled with lust. Both of them lean in, faces right above Chan’s throbbing erection. But instead of taking him into his mouth, their lips connect.
Desperate tongues slide together as Minho and Changbin moan into the kiss. Minho’s hand slides between Chan’s legs, and Changbin reaches for Chan’s cock, pulling it up and playfully slapping it against their lips.
“Fuck,” Chan groans, struggling to keep his hips still.
Minho grins. His eyes flit over to Chan. “Like what you see?” he asks, cupping Changbin’s jaw.
“Y-yeah,” Chan utters, stupid and entirely gone from this world.
It’s lewd how their tongues and lips smack together. However, it’s even lewder when they trap the tip of Chan’s cock between their open-mouthed kisses. For the first time in several years, Chan thinks he might not last more than a little minute.
Reaching out, he drags his hands through their hair, humming when Changbin groans against his cock, his pretty pink lips already swollen. “You look so pretty,” Chan says to them both, watching as his cock head slips into Changbin’s mouth for a small second.
“Feels good?” Minho murmurs, the low tone vibrating through Chan’s shaft as he licks his way down to the base, lips sucking on a prominent vein.
Feels good?
Chan might have already ascended, for what he feels and what he sees is beyond anything he could have ever imagined. And when Changbin’s lips fully wrap themselves around his cock, and Minho lowers himself even more, tongue and lips sucking at the base, hand on his ball, Chan curses through the entire thing.
However, as with most things in life, it only gets better or worse in this case. Minho tugs off his shirt and pants, crawling over Chan so he can straddle him. Thick thighs surround his lower body, and as Minho takes control of their lips, Chan hears a bottle open.
It starts with Minho moaning into the kiss, his movements growing ragged and slow, but then Chan feels his cock maneuvered, sliding between Minho’s ass cheeks and teasing his hole.
“Shit,” Chan curses, eyes wide.
“Time to shut that pretty brain off.”
Minho sinks down, his rim catching on Chan’s cock a few times before it finally slips inside. Pinned down by Minho’s strong arms, he’s unable to move - forced to watch as one of his lovers slowly fucks himself on his cock.
A pair of hands curl around Minho’s waist, reaching for his erection. “You two look so pretty,” Changbin sighs, one hand slowly pumping Minho and the other reaching between his legs, feeling Chan’s cock slide in and out.
“Fuck, I think I’m going to-”
“Look at that, Minho,” Changbin says under his breath, jerking him off to the rhythm of Minho’s moans. “You’re privileged. His first load.”
Chan hisses, hands forcing themselves out of Minho’s grasp only so he can grab onto his thighs and ram his hips upward. With one drawled-out groan, he comes inside, Minho following soon thereafter with white strings of cum.
“The first one, maybe,” Minho laughs, leaning down to lick into Chan’s mouth once more. “But you’ll be the first to feel him moan with overstimulation.”
Eyes widening, Chan watches as Minho gets up, only for his body to be replaced by Changbin. Unlike Minho, Changbin’s not entirely naked. The shirt he wears to work is still on, but most of the buttons have been unbuttoned, and so when he slowly sinks down on Chan’s length, all he sees are bulging muscles and an erection straining behind white fabric.
“Binnie,” Chan groans, his cock barely hard enough.
“I like-” Changbin groans, “feeling you fill up inside of me.”
Everything turns white. Chan digs his hands into Changbin’s ass, watching the fabric lift just enough for his erection to peek through. “Shit, shit, shit,” Chan swears. However, as he’s about to buck his hips, a palm lands on his chest.
“Let me take care of you.”
Hands falling to the side, he watches as Changbin grinds his hips, moaning when he feels the length embedded in him start to fill properly. Small movements quickly grow in pace, and soon, Changbin rides him with such fervor that no thought can even be formed.
Chan barely realizes when another round of cum lands on his chest, for Changbin’s attention is only on him, unwavering and loyal.
“Bin, shit, I-”
“Give it to me, Channie.”
As Chan comes with a cry, the door slams open, and two bodies rush inside. The faces of Seungmin and Jisung fill his vision, their eyes sparkling as they watch Changbin slowly peel himself off Chan’s body, cheeks red and chest heaving for air.
“Give him two minutes,” Minho says, but his words vanish when Jisung drops to his knees, mouth immediately on Chan’s lips.
“Such a pretty video, hyung,” Seungmin murmurs, tugging at the tie around his neck. “How could we resist such a thing?”
“What video,” Chan tries to say, but his mouth is entirely trapped by Jisung’s needy lips. He doesn’t try to say anything more for two reasons - one, Jisung's moans are the only thing he can hear, and two, he was told not to think.
And for once in his life, he’ll do as they ask of him.
Seungmin falls to his knees, hands raking over Jisung’s back before tugging at his pants. The two of them fumble a bit, but when Chan hears the sound of metal buttons against the floor, and Jisung gasping, he knows they managed.
“Fuck, Seungmin, that’s-”
“Have to open you up properly. Chan’s big.”
Chan’s privy to the scene of Seungmin slowly eating Jisung out, his face burrowed in the man’s panting form. It’s truly something to behold, and Chan finds himself entirely speechless.
Not to mention, ridiculously hard.
A globule of lube is distributed over his cock by Seungmin as he continues rimming Jisung.
“Come on now,” Seungmin chuckles. “Don’t let him wait too long.”
Jisung only nods, his lips full of spit and his eyes unfocused. He crawls over Chan, similar to how Minho and Changbin did it. However, instead of sitting back and lowering himself, Jisung falls flat against Chan’s chest, the cum that’s there spreading. “Seungmin,” he whines, wiggling his ass.
“So impatient,” Seungmin says, crawling towards Chan. He grabs his cock and slides it over Jisung’s hole teasingly - so much so that Chan nearly starts crying in anticipation.
When it finally slides in, it’s Seungmin who guides Jisung up and down by keeping his hands on his waist. A cacophony of moans fills the air, and Jisung’s ragdoll-like movements only further the pleasure that forms between them.
Both Changbin and Minho remain on the floor, their bodies tangled as they watch Chan be used. There’s pride swimming in their features, something which only furthers Chan’s need to come once more.
He doesn’t know how he has it in him, but he does, and when he bucks his hips up, nearly sending Jisung flying, his cock throbs violently. Another orgasm courses through him. He hears Jisung swear under his breath, only belatedly realizing the two of them came at the same time.
When Jisung slides off, Chan wants to cry - not because of overstimulation but because of the lack of warmth.
“Seungmin,” he pleads, words heavy and thick on his tongue. “Need you.”
“Of course, Channie,” Seungmin says.
His tone is softer than normal, so when Seungmin crawls into Chan’s lap, he brings his hands around his lover and kisses him gently. “Need your warmth,” Chan murmurs. Seungmin complies easily, his hand reaching back to slowly rub Chan into hardness again.
“Sensitive,” he groans.
“Not sensitive enough, Channie. You have so much more to come.”
Whereas Seungmin had been rough with Jisung, he keeps his own tempo slow, mainly grinding down on Chan, kissing every part he can reach in this position - cheeks, lips, nose, ears, and even the small spatter of freckles on his neck.
Jeongin’s voice suddenly fills the air, and Chan opens his eyes to watch as the youngest leans down and kisses both Minho and Changbin before holding his hand out for Hyunjin, who’s busy tugging off his jacket and scarf. “Look at them.”
“You look so pretty, Minnie,” Hyunjin says, reaching for his phone and snapping a quick picture. “For my next painting,” he gleams, taking Jeongin’s hands.
Both of them are pulled down onto the floor by Minho, who murmurs gentle orders under his breath. Chan doesn’t care to hear any of it, far too preoccupied with Seungmin’s soft, delicate moans sliding into his ear, warming his entire body.
It takes a while before he comes, but when he does, Seungmin clenches around him hard, holding on to every last drop.
“Don’t go,” Chan whines, lower lip quivering.
“Don’t worry,” Seungmin coos. “They’ll take care of you.”
What happens next sends Chan into such a state that he can barely even focus. Jeongin is quick with his preparation, eager to watch Chan squirm as his slightly too-tight hole sucks in his overstimulated cock. “No, no,” Chan writhes, subconsciously bucking his hips up.
“No?” Jeongin chuckles, his thumb resting on Chan’s lips, nearly pushing inside. “Doesn’t seem like you’re hating it. I can feel you throb inside of me.”
“Warm,” Chan whimpers. “You’re so warm.”
However, unlike previously, Jeongin doesn’t move. He simply sits there, teasing Chan by slowly dipping his fingers in and out of his willing mouth. Instead, Chan feels his legs spread apart, and the sight of Hyunjin’s lowered head fills his vision.
“Relax,” he hears before a finger prods at his hole.
“What are you-”
Jeongin slips his fingers inside fully, ordering Chan to suck. As he does so, Hyunjin breaches his rim properly, a long, thin digit slipping inside. Then, only a moment later another one enters. Chan doesn’t bottom often, so even just the two fingers are enough for his head to spin wildly - coupled with Jeongin cockwarming him, the world nearly ceases to exist.
“Now where is it,” Hyunjin murmurs. “Ah, here?”
“Shit!”
Two pads slide over a bundle of nerves deep inside of him. The initial shock sends his hips up, and Jeongin has to stop his movements so Hyunjin can find the area again. With the fingers lodged into his hole, steadily curving and brushing up against his prostate, Chan starts to heave for air.
“Jeongin, ah, move,” he begs. “Please, please, please.”
Fingers dig into his mouth again, and Jeongin chuckles. “I quite like seeing you squirm, hyung.” Forcing his tongue flat, the finger slide deeper, demanding to be sucked. “Let Hyunjin get those last precious drops out.”
With Jeongin’s hole clenched around his sensitive cock and Hyunjin seeking to coerce an orgasm out of Chan only by stimulating his prostate, Chan falls entirely pliant. He whimpers and moans around the fingers, unable to not let his teeth drag over the hard skin as the pleasure grows alongside an urgent need to contract his abdomen.
“You’re sucking me in, hyung,” Hyunjin muses. “Does it feel good?”
Chan’s really in no position to answer, for his body enters a state so intense everything starts to cramp up. His toes curl, his cock twitches, and his cheeks hollow even more - all while he shudders through a wicked orgasm.
As Chan is slowly riding through the aftermath of his orgasm, Hyunjin’s fingers slip out. He gets up from the floor and walks up to Chan, prying his mouth open with his cock. “Be a good boy and help me out.”
Heavy and warm, Chan wraps his lips around Hyunjin’s cock, bobbing his head slowly and messily. Still impaled by Chan, Jeongin reaches for his own length, jerking himself off while rubbing his wet fingers over Chan’s nipples.
Both men come in succession. Jeongin first, his ass clenching around Chan’s cock, and then Hyunjin, who finds the sight so addictive he can’t help but let go as well.
“Remember to swallow, Channie.”
Two fingers push his jaw closed, and Chan looks up bleary-eyed, swallowing hard before he opens his mouth and shows how well he did.
“Good boy,” Jeongin praises, slowly slipping off Chan’s cock.
The world stills.
Until it doesn’t.
The door slams open, not even having the chance to close before Felix drops to the ground, mouth agape and eyes wild. He crawls forward like an animal seeking its prey, far too eager for Chan’s already weary body.
“Channie,” Felix purrs, excited and lust-ridden. His small hands travel up Chan’s body, digging into his sore muscles, taking advantage of his still form. Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower than normal. “They’ve treated you so well. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier.”
Several hands reach out for Felix’s, all slowly working to remove his clothes, and when Felix comes to straddle Chan, he’s entirely naked - warm skin and freckles on display.
“Lix,” Chan swallows. “I don’t think I can come again.” As he says it, regret nearly overcomes him, but Felix’s lips landing on the corner of his eye – soaking up a stray tear – brings enough reassurance to know that he doesn’t need to think.
“I’ll take care of you,” Felix promises.
He darts his tongue out, licking his way down Chan’s face, his jaw, and down his collarbones. “So pretty,” Felix says. “All their love collected here on your stomach.” A finger dips into the pool of cum, swirling it around.
It’s such a lewd sight that Chan groans in embarrassment, his head slowly shaking. “Felix, that’s not-”
“I want to taste them all. Lick their essence from your pretty body, hyung.”
A collective hiss fills the room as Felix lowers his head and swipes his tongue over their come. Something wicked churns within Chan at the sight, and he reaches for Felix’s ass, rubbing his slowly hardening length over his ass.
One more.
He can do one more,
Someone, he doesn’t even register who, comes up behind Felix and starts the process of easing his hole open - readying him to take Chan’s cock.
“Want to taste?” Felix asks. His eyes are narrow to the point where they almost appear pitch-black. He doesn’t give Chan any chance to answer. Instead, he gathers cum into a pool with his finger before picking it up and placing it on his own tongue.
Like a crazed and depraved man, Chan surges forward, connecting their lips. Felix moans into the kiss as the collective cum of everyone coats their mouths. Chan’s so drunk on the love he feels that when his cock prods at Felix’s hole, he starts to cry.
“You look so pretty when you cry, Channie,” Felix teases, his hands now gripping Chan’s face, body shivering as he eases himself down.
His cock screams in both agony and pleasure, the skin veering on being rubbed raw. However, Chan’s mind is riddled with such peacefulness that he can’t even fathom not finishing one more time - even if he can’t produce more than a single drop.
Felix rides him slowly, hips moving just enough for the stimulation to make Chan’s body shudder in desperation. “It’s a pity all the cum is gone,” Felix chuckles. “I think you would look so pretty with your face coated.”
No further wish is needed, for several footsteps inch closer. Chan looks up through heavy lids, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks.
“Please,” he begs and opens his mouth, tongue flat - ready for what’s to come.
With all of his lovers around him – Felix slowly riding him – they rub their cocks over his face and neck. Songs of praise and love fill the air, and Chan finds himself swimming peacefully in his empty mind.
“Poor little thing is all gone.”
“Look at him, he’s fucked dumb.”
“You’ve never looked better, Channie.”
One by one, they jerk themselves off to the sight of Chan’s ruined body. One by one, they slip their cocks either into his mouth before pulling out and coming on his face. Some gather on his tongue while some slowly drips down his chest.
When Felix quickens his pace, struggling through his own orgasm, Chan’s body does the same - entirely in tune with his lovers. Even the pain of coming nearly dry doesn’t matter. In fact, nothing matters anymore.
“I should probably take a day off every month, shouldn’t I?” Chan chuckles.
His mind, only filled with the love he feels for his seven boyfriends.
Chan is at peace.