Written for the LJ comm fornicari, for the prompt of "threesome." A sequel to "Friends Like These," because the best follow-up to feel-good snark is smut. Eliza made sure I both made sense and met the wordcount. She is worth her weight in pretty boys.

Jaejoong gets tense when they both focus on him. It makes a bizarre kind of sense; this is the guy who uses cameras as mirrors rather than think about people watching him, after all. And it's not really a problem, it's not like this whole thing doesn't require coordination anyway.

Changmin does wonder if that part would be easier if he had experience with just one person, but. Well. These are the people he wants, and even if he could pick one to start with, he doubts Jaejoong and Yunho come as other than a package deal. Which isn't really a complaint.

Yunho's hand is on his dick and Jaejoong's lips are against his neck. Definitely not a complaint. He doesn't mind when they both focus on him.

He tangles one hand in Jaejoong's hair, skims the other down Yunho's chest, his stomach, down to match his grip, then his rhythm. Yunho is big and warm and solid, even after being so sick, and Jaejoong feels hot against his hip. Jaejoong kisses his jaw and Yunho's fingers spread on him so he can feel Jaejoong's between them; he opens his mouth for more air but Yunho's there to steal it. They cover and surround him, anchor him against their own effect, an adrenalin rush not unlike performing live.

An apt comparison. He'd laugh if Yunho's tongue weren't in the way. Instead he pushes into their hands and into their mouths and revels in their focus. He loves an appreciative audience.

~END~