It’s Lynx’s 24th birthday.
Come out to the bar, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
Despite managing to make it 24 revolutions around the sun, Lynx had never actually done this kind of thing before. Oh, he’s had drinks, but he’s had them back in the dorms with his friends, or on nights out at the KTV, or just generally in settings other than this.
But this is fun. It’s nice. The bartender is cute and smiles at him with dimples, and his friends have been having fun going up to the bar to order Lynx a steady stream of increasingly outlandish drinks for his tender cat’s tongue, all of them sweet but some of them fruity, some of them tasting like chocolate and cream.
Lynx still has the taste of heavy chocolate lingering in his mouth, clinging to his lips, when Adia presses himself close.
“Hey, my baby. Are you having a good time?”
Adia smells like leather and the new perfume he’s trying out. It’s cooler and a little more open where Lynx is standing, but Adia has been dancing like mad in the middle of the crowded dance floor. He’s dripping with sweat, and Lynx can feel the heat wafting off of him when he gets in real close. He’s wearing leather pants, the material wrapped tight and snug around his vulpine hips, his dancer’s thighs, and Lynx can feel one of those hips nudging into him with how close Adia is standing.
“Pretty good,” Lynx agrees, tipping the last of his chocolate pudding-tasting drink into his mouth and crunching on the ice cubes.
“Have you had enough to drink?” Adia asks.
He plucks the empty lowball glass away from Lynx’s hand and sets it on a random table where other people’s drinks sit—whatever, the host staff will clean it up. Lynx nods, and Adia pulls him by the hands.
“If you’ve had enough to drink, then come dance with me.”
Adia’s pout is deadly. When he pouts, the entire world wants to give him everything, and Lynx is no exception.
He laughs, clear and bright, and says, “Okay.”
They get close on the dance floor. Crowded in the crush and sway of other people’s bodies, it feels good to get in real close. Their bodies press together, and they grind and move to the music. It doesn’t take long before Adia’s head lands on his shoulder, moves to Adia turning his head to nestle his mouth against the swan curve of Lynx’s neck, leads to him kissing and nipping on him with hot breath.
Lynx exhales, moaning low under the music while his hands tighten on Adia’s back. They’re both hard, now, their bulges pressed together.
“Hey!” calls Haebom’s voice, too close to be on the outskirts of the dance floor.
Lynx lifts his head, still muddy-headed, in a daze from Adia’s kiss.
“What’re you doing out here?” Haebom chides.
Lynx doesn’t know if Haebom means the kiss or something else, but he grabs Lynx by both of his hands and pulls them both out of the crush of the throng.
Lynx’s heart is pounding fast in his bird-thin chest, a pretty flush on his face, and Adia is right behind, his hands cupped around Lynx’s waist, resting deliciously low and possessive on his hips.
“Shouldn’t be necking out on the dance floor,” Haebom grumps. “What if someone sees you?”
“What if?” Adia asks with a high-pitched giggle.
Haebom’s eyebrow raises, and he slaps Adia lightly on the back of his head. It can’t possibly hurt, but Adia still says, “Ow.”
“Then it’ll be all over the tabloids by tomorrow morning, that’s what. Do you want to get fired? That’s not a very nice present for Lyn-lyn on his birthday.”
“Shh, no one recognizes us,” Adia says, scoffing and waving his hands in Haebom’s face, patting him super disrespectfully on the cheek, and Adia is going to get fucked so hard for this later, Lynx can already tell as he watches Haebom’s eyebrows hike further and further toward his hairline.
And Adia is handsy, and he’s not drunk enough to be falling over but drunk enough to be stumbling a little bit, puppy-like and kittenish all over Lynx and still with his hands on him. Adia grabs a guy by the shoulders who’s passing by and asks, fruity cranberry juice still on his breath, “Hey, do you know who we are? Take a look at my friend, do you know who he is?”
He spins the guy around by his shoulders to make him really look at Lynx, look at his pretty friend, and the guy goes, “Uh,” and the guy almost spills his drink, and.
And Lynx is a little bit mortified, slinky-pretty but still hard in his tight, tight jeans, and maybe the guy really doesn’t know, or maybe Lynx looks as petrified as he feels, eyes deer-wide, because the guy shakes his head and goes, “No, should I?”
And Adia shoves him away just a little too hard and says, “No, that’s okay. You can go.”
“See?” he demands to Haebom, who remains unimpressed.
“What’re we doing over here, little ducklings?” Jaehee asks.
Jaehee comes over like a panther, dark eyes heavy and his pale lilac shirt deceptively light. He has a face like an angel and the personality of a devil, and the sound of his voice directly behind Lynx makes a guilty thrill shiver down his back. He’s still at least half-hard in the loud, loud club, and he feels like he’s been caught doing something bad.
“Dancing with Lyn-lyn but Haebom won’t let me,” Adia pouts.
“Haebom won’t let you despoil Lynx on the floor in front of 300 people, you mean,” Haebom retorts.
“There aren’t that many people in the building.”
Adia sticks his tongue out at Haebom, and Jaehee mediates.
“Children, please.” He turns to Lynx. “Have you heard of a tradition called birthday spankings?” Jaehee asks.
Lynx feels his mouth go dry. So dry, drier than the Sahara. His tongue sticks to his lip as he asks, “What?”
Adia sucks in a breath. Jaehee shoots him a dirty look, and whatever loudmouth thing Adia had been about to say gets truncated into a soft but fervent, “ooh.”
Lazily, Jaehee explains, “It’s your birthday, right? So you get one spanking for every year.”
“And one to grow on,” Adia chimes in from where he’s relocated.
Apparently Jaehee’s suggestion had led to an out-of-body experience and now that Lynx’s ears are still ringing and his lips are still buzzing, Adia has somehow managed to step away from Lynx and get behind Haebom (For protection. And also because he’s getting a head start on the apology and trying to mitigate the severity of the fucking he’s going to get later by nuzzling against Haebom’s cheek and putting his tongue in his ear.)
“That too,” Jaehee adds.
Lynx’s voice sounds far too small when it comes out of his mouth and he asks, “Are you going to spank me, hyung?”
“Me and everyone else,” Jaehee says with deceptively dangerous casualness.
Lynx moans, and the sound is lost under the loud speakers. He gets so hard so fast that he’s dizzy. He needs to calm down before he actually begs Jaehee to spank him and fuck his ass.
“Well,” Jaehee says, his eyes flickering to the table of the booth beside him. “Hurry up and bend over.”
“Here?” Lynx asks.
Jaehee raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna make me wait?”
Lynx swallows heavily, swallowing down a thick whimper while he’s at it. He shakes his head, something base and intrinsic in him that goes all good boy at the slightest hint of someone handling him right making him lean forward and bend over.
Smack.
The first thud of Jaehee’s hand against his ass is heavy enough to sting, even through the denim. Lynx wasn’t ready. He isn’t ready for the next five smacks that land on his ass in quick succession, either. Lynx is starting to squirm, hot and horny from getting hit.
“No fair,” Adia whines from the circle of Haebom’s big, muscular arms. “You’re hogging him. Let me have a turn, too.”
Because Jaehee is benevolent and sometimes merciful, he steps back and lets Adia take his place.
Adia does, immediately filling the vacated area like water fills a bowl, squirming right up close to Lynx and plastering himself over his back, wrapping his long, leanly muscled arms around him in a sticky hug. The motion presses Adia’s very present, very large erection right up against Lynx’s ass, and Lynx squirms back against him as surreptitiously as he can and mewls a little.
“Ahh, want me to fuck you, Lyn-lyn?” He glances over his shoulder at Jaehee, and then squeezes Lynx’s sore butt cheek consolingly. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can right now. Maybe later, huh?”
“Yeah,” Lynx mumbles into the space between his hands braced on the table. “Maybe later.”
Adia gives him a few good swats on the ass, the percussive thuds of his hand stinging so good, making Lynx moan and grind against the table.
“My turn next, huh?” Haebom says, and Adia nods and steps back after rubbing Lynx’s sore butt a few times.
“Good butt,” Adia says, cheerfully affectionate.
Adia is so weird. Lynx loves him so much.
“Hey there, kiddo,” Haebom says to Lynx, and oh. Oh, Lynx loves Haebom, too.
He smells so good, really masculine and a little sweaty and spicy. His arms are so big and thick, Lynx kind of wants to bite them.
Haebom laughs, low and sexy and affectionate, and he wipes his thumb over the corner of Lynx’s mouth, and oh—Lynx was drooling.
“You okay there, kid?” Haebom asks.
“Mmhm,” Lynx says, super dreamy. “You’re so sexy.”
Haebom laughs again, but it feels sweet and not at all like Lynx is being laughed at. He brushes a kiss to Lynx’s forehead.
“Alright, here we go, then.”
The thing about Haebom is that he’s buff. He’s a total gym rat. He works out like nobody’s business. He’s currently smacking the everloving shit out of Lynx’s ass, and Lynx loves it. He arches back into Haebom’s strikes, so much harder than Jaehee’s or Adia’s, and it’s like he’s not even trying. Not even breaking a sweat, and it turns Lynx on so much.
“Ahh— ahhh!”
He’s lucky that the beat drops at that exact moment. The DJ here is good—really good. He’s been working the crowd to a fever pitch, and at that moment, the whole crowd screams. Lynx’s own scream of pleasure is lost in the noise.
“You still with me, baby boy?” Haebom asks when he’s done, and Lynx drools into his forearms and slurs out a yeah.
He’s floating up in the stratosphere. He’s on cloud 9.
He’s totally about to cum in his pants.
“How many was that?” Haebom asks Jaehee, watching the pert, slender curve of Lynx’s ass poked out so prettily for them. Lynx is totally fucking wasted—on endorphins and not even on alcohol—and it’s great.
“17,” Jaehee says, and Jaehee is great that way—of course he would know.
“What’re you all doing over here?” comes a familiar Chinese accent, pitched above the noise, and Lynx’s tender heart beats double-time.
“Making Lynx mess up his pants in public,” Adia says at the same time Jaehee taps him in the mouth the way you’d scold an errant puppy and says, “Giving Lyn-lyn his birthday spankings.”
“Oh,” Shun says, sweaty from helping his friend man the DJ booth, sexy with so much pale skin on display, his muscled arms showing beneath his black tank top and eye makeup smudged around his eyes. “Can I help?”
“You’d better,” Haebom says. “Lynx needs you, doesn’t he?”
The sound Lynx makes is embarrassing—just a whimper, but he can probably be forgiven if all of his brain power is currently going toward trying to keep himself from rutting into the table like a dog.
“Shunnie-hyung,” Lynx mumbles through lust-drunk lips, and Shun sinks a hand in his hair and says, “I’ve got you, baby.”
Shun doesn’t draw it out because Shun is amazing, and Shun loves him. He’s such a good leader. He’s such a good everything. He smacks Lynx’s ass once, two, three, four more times, and Lynx’s hips won’t stay still. He couldn’t stop rutting against the table even if he wanted to.
The press of the hard wood is too much against his dick, his jeans too tight.
“Shunnie, Shunnie, please,” he’s chanting. “Shunnie, make me cum.”
Shun swallows around the lump in his throat, the throbbing hard-on in his pants. He smacks Lynx’s ass four more times, laying the strokes over where he’s already taken so many.
“Count ‘em out for me baby,” he says, and he counts with Lynx.
“22, 23, 24…”
Lynx moans. The inside of his jeans are a sticky mess, and he wants Shun to reach inside. Wants Shun to stick his hands down the back of his pants and stuff his fingers into Lynx’s hole, wants him to take down his jeans and fuck him raw.
“Twenty-five,” Shun says, and Lynx keens. He thrusts his clothed cock hard against the table beneath him, and, ass stinging, shoots rope after rope of cum into his sticky underwear.
He takes a minute, still bent over the table with his legs wobbling.
Shun comes in close to hold him up, pressing around Lynx with his clean, citrus scent, bracketing him with strong arms. He pins him in place with his hips, and Lynx can feel another hard erection pressing up against the line of his crack, and he feels so lucky that his friends love and want him so much.
“You okay?” Shun rumbles through Lynx’s chest, into his ear, in him and all around him.
Lynx pants until he catches his breath enough to speak, and when he does, his voice sounds like he’s been screaming for hours—so hoarse.
“Yeah,” he says and licks his lips. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Good,” Shun says, pressing his body down in a way that feels like a hug. He brushes a warm kiss to the side of Lynx’s sweaty cheek.
And when Lynx is ready to turn around, his friends are all standing there, waiting for him.