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sekaiyeol. nc-17. 903 words. jongin and chanyeol fuck sehun's armpits in a backyard. (and this takes place in the 19th century because reasons)
warnings: a bit of violence.







They both watch him as he hoses himself off. Chanyeol leaned against the wall chewing on a toothpick, Jongin glancing over his shoulder every now and then, down out at the strip of backstreet between the house walls. The night air and the water is cold and Sehun feels his nipples scrunch up and harden. His suspenders are dangling over his thighs, his shirt is thrown over a barrel by Jongin who was handed it. His trousers get a bit wet at the front but it doesn’t matter. He twists at the tap and sniffs at his pits. All left is a faint scent of man that’s not going anywhere. He turns around and raises his arms up, knitting his hands together behind his neck. Chanyeol spits out his toothpick. Jongin sends one last look out at the quiet street and then they close up on him, and Sehun leans back against the wall.

Chanyeol takes out a small package from his pocket, just a bit of brown wrapping paper folded up. He nods towards Jongin, who produces a stick of soap, but Sehun’s eyes stay on the brown package being unfolded in Chanyeol’s hands. The blade glints in the sparse light from the window above, it’s square with a slit in the middle and it looks small and dangerous between Chanyeol’s big fingertips. Chanyeol catches him looking, and he doesn’t seem to like it because he grabs Sehun’s elbow and pushes it hard into wall. The rough bricks scrape Sehun’s skin but he doesn’t say anything about it. His loins are already pounding.

Jongin lathers and Chanyeol shaves. He’s more careful than Sehun dared to hope but still slips and cuts him up at times and Sehun hisses at it. He gets foul glares in response. Jongin rinses him clean and Sehun’s trousers get even more wet but it doesn’t matter when Jongin’s fingers touch soft at the short stubble of his armpits. Jongin nudges Chanyeol to do it again, shave it closer. Sehun hisses when he cuts him. He bleeds a bit, he sees when he looks down. Jongin rinses and the blood runs thin with water down his sides. Jongin rinses till he stops bleeding.

Chanyeol grunts when he’s done. An appreciative grunt, perhaps. Sehun’s pits are smooth and naked, on full display. Chanyeol stands looking at them, taking them in. Then takes a grip of Sehun’s elbow again, wrings it back till Sehun arches off the wall and leans close in, spreading his tongue and sliding it in a big wet lick from Sehun’s top rib to his bicep. Sehun’s cock twitches in his pants, and he holds back his breath to keep it silent.

He’s pushed down to his knees and the gutter water soaks through his pants but it doesn’t matter. Chanyeol nods towards Jongin who produces a small bottle of rapeseed oil and Sehun forces himself to breathe again. Chanyeol undoes his pants with quick and stable hands and then his cock springs free into the air, already hard and thick and dark and staring Sehun down while being slicked up. Sehun stares back, takes it all in. Jongin’s smaller, thinner but stands taller and Sehun tries to watch them both at the same time, tries to suck up as much of this as possible. When Chanyeol isn’t looking he pushes the heel of his hand down over the front of his pants. Jongin sees, he knows. But Jongin doesn’t say anything, Jongin just watches with dark empty eyes and his mouth open.

He grunts without shame when they both fit themselves in under his arms. The cuts burn and there is a dull pain when Chanyeol thrusts hard straight up into his armpit. Every beat pounds hotly in his groin. He grips Jongin’s thigh with his right hand, finds Chanyeol’s pocket with his left, and remembers to keep his elbows to his sides only when Chanyeol swats him over the head, harder than necessary. Jongin’s cock slides back and forth right under the juncture, and he presses it tight, until he can feel the head rubbing against his skin and can hear Jongin gasping above him.

Chanyeol has to bend his legs more and they’re starting to shake. He pants too, heavy, groans loud and obscene like he’s putting on a show and Sehun feels deep in the pit of his belly how deliciously much he hates Chanyeol, how disgusting Chanyeol is. He drops his left hand and presses down on his groin again, rubbing small hard circles and twitching, bucking up against it until Chanyeol catches him and hits him again, twice, trice, hard enough to make his head spin, until he removes it. Jongin’s curling fingers in his hair, Chanyeol’s scraping deep marks on his shoulder. The thick smell of oil is all over him, almost nauseating, and he can feel heavy tendrils running down his sides and arms.

He comes from them fucking him like this, comes into the strain of his pants, pitched forward with his breath stuck deep in his throat and mouth opened without sound.

Afterwards, when Sehun’s being pulled up to stand on unsteady legs, Chanyeol jerks his arm up again, pushes him back and licks the unholy mess of oil and semen and sweat from his armpit. Jongin folds up the razor blade in its package for next time. Then they leave him to hose himself off.


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