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They close the distance the moment they’re inside, colliding and laughing and reaching for hems and sleeves and skin.

‘Love your new place,’ Qiao Yifan says, grinning and yanking his t-shirt over his head before Gao Yingjie has even gotten his hand off the front door.

‘Very nice,’ An Wenyi agrees. It actually does look nice, though he’s far more interested in the bed, just barely visible through a doorway, than he is in Gao Yingjie’s decor choices.

Gao Yingjie, of course, is nothing if not polite. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ he says, very cordially, very graciously, exactly as if he were talking to a reporter or a fan. He doesn’t sound at all like he’s swiftly unbuttoning An Wenyi’s shirt or like An Wenyi is busy unzipping Gao Yingjie’s jeans to get his hands tucked in against the warm skin of Gao Yingjie’s butt. Gao Yingjie sighs, loudly and very heartfelt, as An Wenyi kneads his bum. He adds, after a moment, sounding very pleased, ‘It’s not exactly roomy, but the walls are really good.’

‘Wait— it’s soundproofed?’ An Wenyi asks, his hands pausing mid-squeeze. Both he and Gao Yingjie look to Qiao Yifan. Qiao Yifan flushes and laughs and does not bother to deny the completely accurate, if unspoken, insinuation about how noisy he can be in bed.

‘Well, I can play music really, really loudly, and the neighbours can’t hear it.’ Gao Yingjie smiles. ‘Liu Xiaobie helped me check with them. I thought you might like that.’

‘He’s been holding out on us,’ Qiao Yifan says to An Wenyi. ‘We could have used this information when we were planning.’ Qiao Yifan is completely naked now; he’s sliding his hands around the both of them and is touching wherever he wants. He gets a handful here, a handful there. He kisses his way up Gao Yingjie’s neck and nibbles at his ear until Gao Yingjie pushes him away, giggling and protesting that he can’t get his pants off when he’s being distracted like this.

An Wenyi tells Qiao Yifan to keep right at it; he tells Gao Yingjie he’ll help with his pants problem.

They’re all three of them naked and warm-faced by the time they reach the bedroom doorway. It takes a while for them to pass through it; they get caught up together with Gao Yingjie’s back against the frame and the others taking turns kissing him, one on either side. He’s saying their names as they run their hands along his belly, down his thighs, across his dick.

Qiao Yifan stills his hand against Gao Yingjie’s hip rather abruptly, blinking in surprise as he looks into Gao Yingjie’s bedroom. An Wenyi follows his gaze. The room itself isn’t particularly large, but an oversized bed takes up almost all of it. There’s actually space for the three of them to sleep. There’s definitely space for the three of them to fuck. Creatively, even.

‘Oh my god, it’s huge,’ Qiao Yifan says.

‘You’ve seen his dick plenty,’ An Wenyi deadpans.

Gao Yingjie snorts and laughs. He’s the one who hits the bed first, sprawled out on his back and tugging his boyfriends down against him.

‘Did you do what we said?’ Qiao Yifan asks, peppering kisses across Gao Yingjie’s chest. ‘Did you manage it, Yingjie?’

‘I did,’ Gao Yingjie says. ‘No thanks to your—’ he breaks off, gasping as a hand curls around his dick and pulls. Gao Yingjie rocks into it and then continues, trying and failing to make his face look disapproving, ‘No thanks to you sending me shameless photographs. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to get myself off at work because my boyfriends are sending me nudes in my lunch break?’

They absolutely do know, since he’d rung them up to complain about it, locked in a Tiny Herb bathroom— and had ended up nutting into his own palm as Qiao Yifan narrated exactly what An Wenyi had done to him after taking that particular photograph. An Wenyi presses a hand to his own dick at the memory and then settles in between Gao Yingjie’s thighs.

Gao Yingjie groans as An Wenyi makes himself more comfortable, nuzzling at Gao Yingjie’s balls. When Gao Yingjie speaks again, he already sounds a little breathless. ‘Truly,’ he says, the tone of his voice doing things to An Wenyi, ‘I’ve been really good. I’ve not gotten myself off here, not even once.’

‘So well behaved,’ An Wenyi murmurs, looking up and enjoying the way Gao Yingjie flushes with pleasure. He shifts to rest on an elbow and licks the slippery head of Gao Yingjie’s dick; Gao Yingjie’s body jerks beneath him. Pleased, An Wenyi slides his mouth down and curls his tongue at the sweet spot he knows Gao Yingjie likes best. He only pauses, mouth still on him, to watch as Qiao Yifan’s butt moves into the space by Gao Yingjie’s hip. An Wenyi’s not got a great range of sight with a mouth full of dick, but it is an awfully nice butt. From the noises its owner is making, Qiao Yifan and Gao Yingjie have started to make out. Enthusiastically. Extensively.

It sounds really great.

An Wenyi lets the wet noise of them guide the speed with which he dips his head around Gao Yingjie’s cock, until he suddenly remembers that he and Qiao Yifan had come here with a plan. He pulls back with a kiss and a lick, and he says, ‘Hey, Yifan.’ When that doesn’t get his attention, he pinches Qiao Yifan’s thigh; Qiao Yifan grunts in protest and then whines when An Wenyi leans over and sucks, hard, at the red mark made by his pinching. ‘We had plans, remember? For if he was a good boy?’

They’ve talked about this at great length, have An Wenyi and Qiao Yifan. They’ve talked about it in bed, back in City H, getting each other off to the mental image as Qiao Yifan wove it in words, shameless and detailed, while he rode An Wenyi’s cock with a teasing slowness, or as they tugged each other’s dicks in the shower.

Qiao Yifan hums and sits up. He’s grinning as he moves down the bed towards An Wenyi.

Gao Yingjie watches, wide-eyed and so turned-on, as An Wenyi shifts to one side of Gao Yingjie’s hips, making room for Qiao Yifan on the other side. ‘I’ve been such a good boy,’ he breathes out, as the both of them settle in against him and watch him watching them. The phrase is heard more often on Qiao Yifan’s lips; An Wenyi decides he likes it on Gao Yingjie’s, too, and snakes his fingers down to brush lightly against Gao Yingjie’s balls in response. Gao Yingjie’s lips part, but there’s no time for him to speak before An Wenyi and Qiao Yifan act: leaning in — synchronised as if they’ve practised this instead of merely imagined it a whole lot — and sliding both of their mouths against his dick.

The noise Gao Yingjie makes, throaty and so very, very pleased, has An Wenyi’s lips curving into a smile against the length of him. Qiao Yifan makes an echoing glad sound, rumbling happily as he licks along his side of Gao Yingjie’s dick. They work his cock together, growing wet and sloppy, bumping into each other and laughing. One of them sucks him down, and then the other, and then they kiss across him. They let his dick catch damply against their faces, and then they do their best to kiss each other along with his dick, tonguing the head of it as they lick into each other’s mouths. The kiss itself isn’t that great from An Wenyi’s perspective, but the way that Gao Yingjie cries out — the way he tells them, hoarse and rough, how good they look, how good they feel — makes it the hottest thing that An Wenyi’s done in a while. He and Qiao Yifan keep at it, kissing deeper, faster, wetter, all tongues and spit and dick; they fall into kissing each other properly in tiny interludes and then return, moaning at Gao Yingjie’s moans, to sucking his cock between them. Gao Yingjie’s voice is going straight to An Wenyi’s own dick, and Qiao Yifan is gasping into An Wenyi’s mouth, and together they bring Gao Yingjie undone as he comes, shaking and trembling beneath them, messy and graceless and wonderful.

When they raise their heads, An Wenyi licking at his lips and Qiao Yifan grinning triumphantly, Gao Yingjie looks dazed.

‘How the fuck,’ he says, voice low and slurred. ‘How so hot.’

‘I think we broke him,’ says An Wenyi, extremely delighted that they’ve already reduced the politest one amongst them to swearing. He sits up, stretching his neck and shoulders gently, and joins Qiao Yifan in grinning.

‘Unfortunate,’ Qiao Yifan laughs. His hard dick bobs in his lap. ‘I had so many plans for a functional Gao Yingjie. I guess that’ll have to wait. Perhaps he’ll be back on earth by the time I’ve got you off, Wenyi.’ Qiao Yifan puts on a big show of looking at An Wenyi speculatively and then of looking around the apartment. ‘Want me to rail you here or on the couch?’

An Wenyi shivers and grins. ‘You know I’m good with wherever. You can have me up against the kitchen counter if you want.’ He raises his eyebrows at Gao Yingjie and gives them a tiny waggle.

Qiao Yifan fails to hold in a giggle.

They’ve talked about this, too. They’ve talked about a whole lot of things when it comes to making good use of Gao Yingjie’s new place.

Gao Yingjie blinks at them. He still looks slightly lightheaded, though he’s gotten as far as sitting up. ‘Are you— are you just planning on us having sex every which way in my new apartment?’ he asks weakly.

‘Of course,’ An Wenyi and Qiao Yifan say together.

‘Oh god,’ Gao Yingjie mumbles. He flops back onto the bed, laughing helplessly; his cheeks flame pink. ‘You’re here for a week. We can have so much sex in a week. I won’t be able to look at anything without getting horny, after, and you’ll be so very far away.’ He sits back up and points jabbingly at both of them. ‘You’re the worst,’ he insists, and also, ‘I love you so much.’

Qiao Yifan beams. His dick bounces as he swoops in to kiss Gao Yingjie’s smiling face. An Wenyi gets a hand around the boner, distracting him so he can claim Gao Yingjie’s mouth for himself. Gao Yingjie grumbles softly at the taste of come on An Wenyi’s tongue; he puts a hand in his hair to pull him closer anyway. Qiao Yifan shifts lazily in An Wenyi’s grasp and nips kisses along both of their shoulders.

‘So… where would future Yingjie enjoy thinking about us having fucked?’ An Wenyi asks, low and teasing, when he finally pulls back.

Gao Yingjie covers his face with his hands. He heaves out a terribly put-upon sigh and then, peeping at them through a gap between his fingers, his voice warm with smiling, he tells them exactly where — and how — he wants them.