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The One True Chairing

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It’s been 7 days and 15 hours since Joonghyuk had last fucked Dokja on the rocking chair. Since then, it’s become Joonghyuk's favorite chair in the house, ranking over his own high-tech gaming chair, which he doesn't hold much affection for in the first place. He's taken up a new hobby of sitting on the rocking chair and waiting for Dokja to walk by and blush furiously.

Joonghyuk decides to go to bed early, with nothing else to do. He feels strung tight, images of Dokja's flushed face constantly crossing his mind as the day goes by. He wants desperately to fuck Dokja again, but he supposes Dokja is already asleep or doing activities with the other company members. Joonghyuk resigns himself to a night of masturbating to the memory of Dokja's tight, wet hole and warm skin.

Bounding up the stairs, he opens the door to his room and finds the object of his fantasies sitting curled up in his gaming chair.

Dokja turns to him in surprise. The bulky LED gaming headset on his head flashes rainbow. He's seated like a gremlin of some sort, knees drawn against his chest, feet resting on the edge of the chair.

"What are you doing?"

Dokja swivels back to facing the screen and adjusts his headphones. Joonghyuk's headphones. "Playing PUBG."

Joonghyuk walks over and squints at the screen. Dokja's player is crawling on the ground, attempting to hide among the grass. "You're really bad."

"Oh fuck you."

Joonghyuk glances down at Dokja and does a double take. He's freshly showered and wearing thin sleep clothes, his loose sweater exposing delicate collarbones and one shoulder, still flushed pink from a hot shower. The ends of his hair are still wet, as are his eyelashes. They look even darker and longer than usual.

Joonghyuk swallows and feels his cock stir.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Dokja's hands leap onto the mouse and keys, and he starts clicking and tapping rapidly, doing a poor job of trying to shoot and run away at the same time. "Ah fuck!" He pushes against the desk and the chair rolls backwards. Preoccupied with the game, he doesn't notice when Joonghyuk kneels down, moves in front of the chair, and situates himself between Dokja's legs.

Joonghyuk's hands come up to wrap around Dokja's calves and he leans forwards, nosing at Dokja's crotch. Dokja makes a noise and startles. He looks down disbelievingly at Joonghyuk.

"Joonghyuk?" He squeezes his legs together. Or tries to. Joonghyuk pries them apart.

Joonghyuk looks up at Dokja, blinking innocently. He schools his expression into something deadpan. Dokja stares at him aghast. His player promptly dies on screen.

His fingers curl around the band of Dokja's sweatpants and pull them down. He is not wearing underwear underneath. Dokja makes another sound, but he lets Joonghyuk remove his pants completely.

"Focus on your game," Joonghyuk instructs. He runs his hands along the smooth skin of Dokja's legs and feels up his soft thighs.

"What are you going to do to me."

"I'm deciding. Keep playing."

Dokja's eyes shake but he redirects his attention to the screen. Restarts the game. His cock is hard already.

Joonghyuk eyes it appraisingly, leans forward, and licks one long stripe along the underside. He feels Dokja shudder and sits back to watch as the blood swells in and makes it flush redder. The saliva Joonghyuk leaves glistens lewdly in the light. Joonghyuk’s attention is drawn, all of a sudden, to a spot under Dokja’s balls. He can barely see it due to the way Dokja is sitting, but it’s there— his hole, small and tight, fluttering a bit.

Abruptly, Joonghyuk pulls Dokja’s ass forward until it’s at the very edge of the chair and Dokja’s back has slid low on the seat. There. He can see the puckered pink rim clearer now…

“I can’t play my game like this,” Dokja says meekly.

“Then don’t.”

Dokja’s player gets blown up a third time. He groans.

Joonghyuk, meanwhile, dips down and sticks his tongue out, the tip pressing against Dokja’s opening. Dokja freezes.

“Joonghyuk, what are you doing?”

Joonghyuk spreads his tongue flatter and presses just a bit more insistently before withdrawing. He gazes back up at Dokja with sharp eyes. Dokja is completely focused on him, a look of incredulity on his blushing mess of a face.

Wordlessly, Joonghyuk grips Dokja’s thighs, one in each hand, and runs his hands up to lift the calves, pushing Dokja’s legs straight up until they’re dangling in the air.

“Hold them there.”

Dokja obediently loops his elbows under his knees, presenting his pretty cock and hole to Joonghyuk.

Joonghyuk wants to dive right into tonguing at Dokja’s hole again, but first— he regards the pale, inviting skin of Dokja’s thighs and sets straight to marking them. He finds that Dokja’s inner thighs are extremely sensitive, and soon Dokja is leaking precum all over himself and letting out little breathless huffs as bite marks and hickies bloom on his skin. Joonghyuk sucks one last mark on Dokja’s ass just a few centimeters away from his entrance. He takes a pause, and then breathes onto Dokja. Dokja shivers. His hole flutters again.

Exhaling one more time, Joonghyuk finally plants a kiss on Dokja’s rim. He feels Dokja pulse underneath his lips.

“Ah, not there… Joonghyuk… that’s…”

“Dirty? Don’t make excuses, Dokja, you just showered.” Joonghyuk’s voice goes low.

This effectively shuts Dokja up. Joonghyuk sticks his tongue out again, this time aiming to breach Dokja’s hole. His tongue forcefully wriggles its way in. Dokja is incredibly warm inside, feeling even hotter than when Joonghyuk fucks him with his cock. Maybe it's because his face gets to be so close to Dokja’s hole, in this incredibly intimate position. Joonghyuk draws out his tongue. Dokja smells of his arousal, heavy and musky in a way that makes Joonghyuk salivate— undercut by the clean scent of lemon soap. As for the taste, there’s traces of body wash, just a bit of bitterness and nothing else.

Joonghyuk fucks his tongue into the tight heat of Dokja’s hole. Getting increasingly more sensitive with each plunge of Joonghyuk’s tongue, it spasms even more.

“Mmm.” Joonghyuk casually reaches up and grabs Dokja’s cock, thumbing at the tip. Dokja jolts, and goes still. Only after Dokja’s belated moan does Joonghyuk realize the wetness on his face. Dokja has come all over him. Most of it has landed in his hair and forehead. There’s some splashed over his nose and cheeks.

“Ah… oops.”

Joonghyuk removes his tongue from Dokja’s ass and sighs. He wipes Dokja’s cum off of his face with the back and sides of his hand. Dokja lets go of his legs and they plop down on either side of Joonghyuk’s shoulders. Joonghyuk leisurely licks the cum from his hand.

He hears Dokja snicker. “There’s still some in your hair.” Dokja reaches out. Joonghyuk shoots a scathing glare at him. Dokja’s hand pauses midway to its destination.

“Since you had your fun, it’s my turn.”

“For what?” Dokja laughs nervously. “Oh, did you mean PUBG? Thanks for letting me use your computer. And chair. Here, I can leave—”

“My turn to come,” Joonghyuk elaborates. As he stands up, he pushes his gaming chair back and sends it— and Dokja— spinning across the room. He stalks over and cages Dokja in, who shrinks pitifully into the chair. Dokja stares wide-eyed at him.

He roughly flips Dokja around on the chair and takes his own achingly hard cock out. “I’ve been waiting for a long time.” Joonghyuk lines up at Dokja’s thoroughly plundered hole. “Besides, I think I’ve already prepped you enough,” he whispers into Dokja’s ear. Dokja’s fingers tighten around the backrest.

Joonghyuk spends the rest of the night pounding into Dokja, who spends the time sobbing into the backrest as Joonghyuk violates him on his very sturdy gaming chair.


The household's newest purchase is a large bean bag chair. It's for the kids mostly, but they soon lose interest in the big shapeless lump and leave to do more interesting things like catch butterflies to add to their rapidly growing collection.

Dokja, however, has taken to sinking into the bean bag chair and drowning within it whenever he's feeling tired.

On his way to the bathroom, Joonghyuk glimpses Dokja spread-eagled on the bean bag chair. He lays there sleeping defenselessly. Bean bag chair… it's practically a bed.

Joonghyuk gets an idea.


Dokja is taking a light snooze on the bean bag chair when he feels something wet against the side of his neck, and a certain person's familiar presence above him.

He blearily opens his eyes to see an intense-looking Joonghyuk hovering above him, arms on either side of his shoulders. Dokja blinks, but as soon as his eyes close Joonghyuk has swooped down and kissed him on the lips. Joonghyuk's tongue impatiently traces the seam of Dokja's lips, seeking in. Dokja pushes at Joonghyuk's unfairly packed, muscular chest with a hand and Joonghyuk backs off, looking at Dokja inquisitively.

"You want to fuck," Dokja accuses.

Joonghyuk intentionally misses the accusatory tone in Dokja's voice and perks up. "Mhm."

Dokja narrows his eyes at him. "What's wrong with you? You only kiss me when you want to have sex with me."

At this, Joonghyuk's eyebrows furrow. "Oh. I'll kiss you more when I'm not fucking you then."

Dokja sighs. His fingers curl into Joonghyuk's shirt, and he looks away.

"Is that your only complaint? Can I fuck you now?"

Dokja has a million complaints on the tip of his tongue. Joonghyuk is too rough, Joonghyuk likes coming inside of him and it's a hassle to clean out, Joonghyuk leaves very visible love bites, Joonghyuk never treats him differently afterwards (differently being nicer), Joonghyuk is always horny nowadays, one would think he's been repressing it for centuries.

Somehow, he can't find it in himself to say any of them. Truthfully, he likes all those things about Joonghyuk.

"Yes," is what he comes up with finally. "And yes." He makes a move to get up. "You horny bastard."

Joonghyuk pushes him down, grinning, teeth sharp. He starts attacking Dokja's neck again, sucking another red mark onto Dokja's throat. His punishing grip on Dokja clearly indicates he isn't intent on leaving the bean bag chair anytime soon.

"H-here?" Dokja shivers as Joonghyuk licks along his collarbone.

"Of course," Joonghyuk says. "Where else?"

The words "a bed" die quickly on Dokja's lips as Joonghyuk kisses him quiet again, at the same time grasping one of Dokja's legs from behind the knee and lifting it. He does the same with the other leg, before remembering Dokja's pants are still on. They're off in a flash. He quickly manhandles Dokja into the previous position, legs in the air and knees against shoulders.

Joonghyuk presses two lubed fingers against Dokja's hole and keeps them there for a bit, as if he’s enjoying the feeling of Dokja's hole twitching and quivering in anticipation. Dokja slaps Joonghyuk's shoulder. Joonghyuk pushes in.

Prep is all the more embarrassing in this position. Dokja feels more exposed than usual. Maybe it’s because he can actually see Joonghyuk's fingers thrusting into his hole, in and out. Only a few moments later, Joonghyuk removes his fingers, and Dokja's hole clenches and unclenches around nothing. Joonghyuk won't stop staring at his hole.

"Joonghyuk." Joonghyuk's gaze flits to his face, and then he immediately goes to pulling his dick out, slicking himself with lube, and entering Dokja.

Dokja's legs frame Joonghyuk's face, which looms closer as he plunges his cock deeper into Dokja. He usually takes Dokja from behind, exception being the one time on the rocking chair. Dokja was too overwhelmed to have noticed what he looked like then, but now Joonghyuk’s face is so close and oh— he knows exactly what Joonghyuk looks like when he's fucking him. Dokja had only his imagination to rely on in the past.

He's serious, in deep concentration as expected, but in some ways he seems more flustered than Dokja had imagined. Like he's barely holding back, his lips pressed together in a tense line, a faint flush high on his cheeks.

Then Dokja feels it. The tip of Joonghyuk's cock nudging at his prostate. He found it that fast...? Dokja moans soft.

Joonghyuk smirks. There's sweat dripping down his temple now. He buries himself deep inside Dokja and angles his head to kiss Dokja on the lips. After they part, Joonghyuk resumes nailing Dokja's prostate, eyes sparking, that fierce, alive expression on his face. Like he’s doing something noble and perilous during a scenario, and not just fucking Dokja on a bean bag chair.

Dokja comes first. There's not much pressure on Dokja's cock, just the slide of Joonghyuk's sweat-slicked skin against it each time he thrusts in all the way, but that and the dizzying bursts of pleasure that come from Joonghyuk hitting his prostate are more than enough to send him over the edge— toes twitching, spine tingling, cock spurting out ropes of cum between them.

Joonghyuk continues fucking him mercilessly. Dokja feels the breath fwoomp! out of him as his entire body relaxes. The bean bag chair shifts and moulds around the contours of their ceaselessly moving bodies. His head sinks back into the chair, and Joonghyuk bites gently at the underside of his jaw. The incoming thrust pummels at his battered prostate.

"Ah— hey, Yoo Joonghyuk. If you keep going..." Dokja momentarily loses his train of thought. "If you keep going, I don't think I can take it…" Dokja's whole body is still buzzing from his orgasm, sensitive to even the slightest touch.

Of course, nothing Dokja ever said has ever really stopped Joonghyuk.

"... Joonghyuk…"

"Please… it's too… "


"Noisy." Joonghyuk leans close on a thrust and nips at the spot under Dokja's ear.

"Ah really, I… can't.. you fucked me too hard yesterday… on.. chair….. no more, you're so…" Dokja's speech becomes slurred. Joonghyuk merely grunts in reply and slams into him harder, as if he wants to fuck Dokja into speechlessness.

It works. By the time Joonghyuk spills into him, hot and gushing, Dokja is mumbling out a string of nonsense interspersed with soft, needy little "Joonghyuk"s.

Joonghyuk pulls out. Cum splatters onto the dense fabric of the bean bag chair, glistens in between Dokja's legs as he curls up on his side. Joonghyuk watches his hole give one last weak squeeze, pearly white cum oozing out. He grips an asscheek and pulls at it to widen the hole, ignoring Dokja's whine of protest. More cum drips off the reddened rim, down the other asscheek, and onto the bean bag chair.

"Fucking asshole," Dokja says tiredly. He has started to recover.

"That's what I did."

Dokja huffs. After a bout of silence, he starts cursing again. Joonghyuk smiles at his vicious insults, then promptly shuts him up by kissing him senseless.


The next day, Dokja walks into the living room to pick up the book he never finished reading since the rocking chair incident. There's a barely noticeable limp in his gait.


"Gilyoung-ah," Dokja answers distractedly, still looking for his book. He spots it balanced precariously on a stack of miscellaneous items shoved into the corner of a desk. He frowns. The desk really doesn’t match with the bright white of the new couch next to it…

"Hyung!" Gilyoung runs into the room with Yoosung close behind him. They crowd around Dokja, looking brightly up at him.

Gilyoung tugs at Dokja's sleeve. "What is it?" He pats both of their heads.

"Where's the bean bag chair?"

Dokja freezes.

"Yeah, Ahjussi, it's really weird.. it's gone all of a sudden," Yoosung adds.

Dokja slowly removes his hands from their heads. The two kids look at him curiously. His face appears dramatically shadowed, head hanging down as if in deep thought.

"I don't know," he finally answers, turning away so they can't tell he's lying. (He seems to have forgotten everyone still has Lie Detection.) Then Dokja walks away from the living room, book completely forgotten, muttering a few incomprehensible things under his breath. "Maybe you two should ask Yoo Joonghyuk…"


Joonghyuk fucks him on the couch next. It's the new white couch in the living room, material unknown, feeling like leather but softer and… furrier? Dokja really doesn't know. All he does know is that it's pretty comfortable to be lying on as Joonghyuk rails him repeatedly from behind. At this point, he wonders if they'll ever fuck on an actual bed anymore.

"Slut," Joonghyuk says. "I don't even need to prep you with my fingers anymore." Dokja's hole stretches perfectly around Joonghyuk's large cock now, swallowing him in with ease.

"We've been having non-stop sex for the past three days," Dokja grumbles into the couch. He doesn't bother to refute beyond that. Joonghyuk's dirty talk is just as callous and blunt as his usual speech. Dokja finds it concerningly hot.

Furthermore, Joonghyuk's fucking has definitely become more aggressive with each passing day. He shakes Dokja like a ragdoll, leaves bites like crescent-shaped medals all over Dokja's skin. Nothing hurts though, Joonghyuk’s definitely done worse things to him than fuck him hard, in actuality, this feels good, and Dokja likes it so much. It’s Joonghyuk, and this is the way that suits them best.

Joonghyuk's breathing grows ragged. Dokja starts grinding into the couch, new or not be damned. He's definitely gotten precum all over it by now. Another piece of furniture ruined by bodily fluids…

"Joonghyuk-ah," Dokja gasps. "Let me—"

"No," Joonghyuk denies him with a growl. He wrenches Dokja's hips off the surface of the couch and ignores Dokja's wail of distress. Unable to get any friction, any physical touch on his cock while receiving shattering jolts of pleasure from all the attention on his prostate, Dokja starts to shake.

Joonghyuk holds him close, holds him steady.

"Don't you dare use your hands," Joonghyuk's voice comes out rough. Dokja howls. He can't, can't possibly come like this, cock leaking wet and hard against nothing but the empty air— any semblance of pride is gone, he'll beg Joonghyuk— he's begging for release now, but no reprieve comes, only liquid warmth flooding into him, thick and hot. He cries out in frustration. Joonghyuk is off of him now, he flops to the side and Joonghyuk starts feeling him up all over, touching everywhere, everywhere but where he wants it most.


Dokja is a vision impaled on Joonghyuk's cock like this, trembling legs spread wide, the backs of his thighs and his ass covered in slow-fading welts. He’s still unbelievably tight, despite this being the third day in a row Joonghyuk has fucked him.

There's a thought: Joonghyuk wants to see Dokja's face when he orgasms. He's practically addicted to the sight now— at the way the flush travels slow over Dokja's face, his lips bitten and worried red, how tears start glimmering in the corners of his eyes like crystals.

So he prevents Dokja from coming. He feels Dokja thrash under him, frantically searching for release. And then Dokja starts begging, all sweet and eager, turning pliant as he clings tight to Joonghyuk, around Joonghyuk. Joonghyuk feels the familiar tightening in the pit of his stomach and he chases the feeling, continuously thrusting into Dokja. The walls of Dokja’s hole grip his cock deliciously, squeezing hard enough to wring an orgasm out of him. He ignores Dokja’s weak cries and pulls out, allowing one second of collapse onto a wriggling Dokja before he maneuvers himself to a sitting position.

Dokja slumps onto his side, upper body half-turned to Joonghyuk. His hair is thoroughly rumpled, and he looks exceedingly upset. Joonghyuk half-hauls him into his lap and notes him rubbing his thighs together, hand straying to his cock. He shackles Dokja's wrists with his hands. "No touching yourself," he reminds him.

“Then…” Dokja gives him pleading eyes. Joonghyuk gets an idea, and lets go of Dokja’s wrists.

He grips around Dokja's cock, forming a loose fist, pumping it a few times. Dokja bucks into his touch. Then Joonghyuk's hand stills, still wrapped hotly around Dokja's cock.

"Oh Dokja, I'm not going to help you out," Joonghyuk smirks. "If you want to come, do it yourself."

Dokja whines but his hips start moving anyways, fucking into Joonghyuk's fist like it's a fleshlight. He grabs onto Joonghyuk's wrist. "Hnnghh..hhaah—"

"You're so desperate," Joonghyuk marvels.

"... Joonghyuk," Dokja buries his face into Joonghyuk’s shoulder and bites down. Dokja’s teeth are sharp but it doesn’t hurt Joonghyuk much, rather, he finds it cute how Dokja clamps down like a wild animal as he desperately tries to get himself off. Smiling, Joonghyuk squeezes his hand tighter around Dokja’s cock, almost tight enough that Dokja can’t thrust inside. Dokja bucks into him even harder.

“Uoonghyuhf, pleahv!” With a muffled plea, he comes right as he pulls out, spilling all over Joonghyuk’s hand and dripping onto Joonghyuk’s stomach. A few unlucky drops land on the couch. Finally, he lets go of Joonghyuk’s shoulder. In a heartbeat, Joonghyuk is kissing him fiercely. Dokja’s cum smears between both of their bodies.

They stay there for a while, with Dokja laying on top of Joonghyuk’s body. His breathing gradually evens out. Joonghyuk finishes cleaning the cum off of his hand. He finds that Dokja has dozed off. Closing his eyes, he follows suit, resolving to deal with the couch when they’ve both woken up from their nap.


“We need a new couch.”

Dokja confronts Sooyoung in the dining room a day later. Sooyoung is hunched over at the table, attempting to fix the atrocious frosting job that Jihye did on a cake a few hours prior.

“Why?” Sooyoung doesn't look up from where she's piping buttercream frosting carefully along the edges.

“Because Joonghyuk destroyed it?” Dokja offers, a piss-poor attempt at an excuse. He nods wisely. “Yeah. You know, because he has unresolved anger issues.”

Sooyoung narrows her eyes and reaches for the icing spatula. “You can’t fool me. I know you two fucked on the couch, and the bean bag chair, and god knows where else in this house.”

Dokja stares at her. He looks almost apologetic for a second. Then he opens his mouth.

“Just saying, for the bean bag chair, it was Joonghyuk’s cum, not mine—”

“I did not need to know that. Ever.”

Dokja closes his mouth. He seems to be fighting the urge to defend himself from something indefensible. An awkward length of silence crawls between them as Sooyoung switches to another piping bag and starts swirling pale yellow flowers around the top of the cake.

He gazes absentmindedly at Sooyoung’s piping bag. “Save the piping bags,” he says suddenly. “Joonghyuk wants to make jelly doughnuts later this week.”

“Is, is that a euphemism for something?”

Dokja looks startled. “Ah,” he says. There is another bout of painful silence.

“Hey! You two busy there?” Heewon’s head peeks out from behind the doorway. Dokja quickly picks up a filled piping bag and accidentally squeezes it too hard, splurting buttercream all over the table. Through the door, Dokja spots Hyungsung carrying a large cardboard box on his shoulder, heading towards the direction of the veranda. A man dressed in black follows. Joonghyuk. More buttercream expels onto the table. Sooyoung warily eyes Dokja’s hand.

“We’re setting up the porch swing. Hyungsung-ssi and Joonghyuk-ssi are on it so we’ve got it covered, but if you’d like to help out, we’ll be outside.” Heewon steps into the room cautiously, glancing between them.

“Porch swing?”

“That’s… a chair thing, right?”

Dokja and Sooyoung reach the same conclusion at once. “No,” Sooyoung whispers. She looks stricken.

“Oh, then…” Heewon smiles awkwardly.

“No,” Sooyoung repeats. “Sorry. I meant something else. Uhh, we’re busy here! Decorating cakes! Isn’t that right, Dokja?”

There's a pained expression on Dokja’s face, like he’s reminiscing all the times his ass has been pounded into. “Yes…”

“Okay? I’ll be going then.” Heewon looks a bit suspicious but thankfully drops the topic.

“Ah!” Dokja calls out to Heewon one last time as she turns to leave. “By the way… who was it that suggested getting a porch swing?”

Heewon puzzles over the question for a bit. “Huh, come to think of it, I don’t— ahh right. It was Joonghyuk-ssi.”

Sooyoung makes a strangled sound.

“He’s doing a lot better these days…” Heewon’s words fade from Dokja’s ears. He stares out the doorway. It’s an awfully beautiful day: bright light shining everywhere, spirits high, smiles all around. Peace has returned to the household at last, but at what cost?

Joonghyuk passes by again, catches Dokja’s eye, and smirks.