fourcoldpaws: (cn)
[personal profile] fourcoldpaws
gongchan/cnu/girl!cnu. r. 940 words. they like it like this, when it's the three of them, taking care of each other.
warnings: twincest

She can be a bit tricky to get off sometimes, but two mouths are better than one.

She’s sprawled out on her back on Dongwoo’s big bed, legs a bit bent and a bit parted, her black tank-top hiked up and bundled above her breasts. Chanshik is lying next to her, straining against his jeans, watching her. He was being useful before but suddenly found himself not. He tends to do that. He can’t help watching her, can’t help just lying and grinning to himself.

She’s quite a sight, like this, her face scrunched up, her back arched, her chest heaving. Her breasts pool out soft and flat on top of her torso, skin pulled together a little in the middle where her nipples sit tight and stiff, and jiggling subtly when her breath comes out raspy or in in a sharp gasp. Her brows are furrowed, eyes blinking open and shut, her lips wet and parted. He can’t get enough of her, like this, when she’s all flushed and close and doesn’t know what to do with herself.

Her hands move, constantly shift position; gripping the sheets, clutching the pillow, pulling her bangs from her face, stroking down over her body, (nails over stomach and thighs, quick, fleeting, thoughtless brushes over her breasts), over their bodies, through Dongwoo’s hair, over Dongwoo’s hands at her hips, and over to Chanshik, fumble and grip, turning her head to look at him with glossy eyes, like he’d be able to do something about it.

He laughs, catches her hand in his, bends over her to kiss her, strokes his other hand over her stomach and over her scrunched, uneven nipples. Her back pulls and stretches, mouth barely touching his, head digging back into the pillow, she grunts; “fuck.”

Dongwoo is between her thighs, half curled up by the edge of the bed, one leg off it, foot on the floor, the other bent underneath him, his tongue soft and steady and unrelenting. He looks up a bit sometimes, at Chanshik because Woori isn’t looking, and Chanshik thinks he grins.

When they get tired they switch. Dongwoo straightens his back, hand on Woori’s thigh, licking around his lips. Chanshik starts to move. Dongwoo catches him by the shoulder, kisses him over Woori’s knee. Chanshik can tell Woori’s watching. He licks over Dongwoo’s bottom lip, grins when Dongwoo licks at him back. He can taste her on his mouth. Then Dongwoo moves, lands one knee on the bed beside Woori and stretches up and kisses her too, the same way. Chanshik sees the way she tenses with want at the touch, curling a hand around her brother’s neck to pull him closer.

Chanshik skims his fingers down her thigh, brushes between them, grinning at how it makes her jolt and break the kiss, though that wasn’t his intention. She meets his eyes for a moment, and Chanshik thinks she tenses a bit again. He kisses down her leg, lets his tongue find the way.

It’s Chanshik who gets to do the honors, mainly because he happens to be there at that specific point. He knows how to get her through it, keeps his tongue hard against her till it’s over, lets her fingers claw at his hair, while Dongwoo lies close beside her, nose against her temple. Chanshik can’t see it now, but he knows that her eyes will squeeze tightly shut right before she comes, stay that way for a couple of seconds, then whip open again with a big exhale, like she’s snapping back into reality. Like she’s being rebooted, or reborn.

Dongwoo leans over her when she comes down and her breathing calms, nosing over her face, kissing her cheek and forehead, grins and whispers something affectionate or something teasing or something a little bit of both; “was it nice?”

“Shut up,” Woori grunts, folding her legs together and rolling away from him, over to her stomach.

Chanshik wipes over his mouth with his hand and reaches for Dongwoo instead. Dongwoo props himself up on his elbow and pulls Chanshik close by the neck to kiss him again, but his mouth goes limp for a moment when Chanshik gets his pants open and curls a hand around him. He’s so hard, so full, like he’s about to burst.

Woori lies watching them, chin on her hands.

“Suck him off,” she says. They both look at her. Then Chanshik grins, moves down and bends over Dongwoo’s lap. Dongwoo’s head tips back, his mouth silently falling open.

A lazy, affectionate grin spreads gradually over Woori’s face as she watches Chanshik blow him. After a while Chanshik notes that one of her hands has sneaked down, under her belly and down between her legs. He can see her butt sticking up a little bit, legs a bit parted. Her other hand has stretched over the mattress and found Dongwoo’s, their fingers laced tightly together. She teases him back; “you should come on his face.”

Dongwoo is beyond replying, only laughs shakily around his moans, flat on his back with his hair falling messily over his head.

Chanshik isn’t sure, because Dongwoo’s was kind of drawn out and Woori’s kind of quiet, but he thinks her second fell in time with his first.

He slumps down between them when they’re done, careful not to break the link of their hands, smiling when they both curl closer to his body. Woori turns his face towards her and kisses him, Dongwoo’s limp lips touching his shoulder on the other side.

Chanshik isn’t particularly hard to get off at all, but two mouths are still better than one.

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