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He really, really should stop doing this kind of thing , he thought when he met the enemy mid laner’s big, shocked eyes, clearly not expecting to find Sanghyeok when he opened the door to their hotel suite.

Before he can form any words and break free from the stunlock, Hyeokgyu appears beside the younger player, examining him with a disapproving frown.

“Geonwoo-yah go back inside, will you?” the ADC whispers, forcing his voice to come out softly despite the tension that has immediately appeared on his features.

“Expecting someone else?” Sanghyeok muses bitterly once they’re alone in the threshold.

“Expecting no one, actually, ” Hyeokgyu declares firmly.

Sanghyeok snorts and smiles sweetly at him, “Sure.”

He curses inwardly as he feels the eyes of the youngest three players of the team follow him as he trailed behind their support. He hated doing this with younger players the most.

“I forgot you haven’t won anything at all. You’ve all got to live a little, you know?” Geonhee muses, looking over the others as he plops down in a separate seat across the room.

Then, he slaps his thigh lightly, motioning with his head for the older to get down on the floor in front of him.

Sanghyeok fiddles with his jacket and glances sideways for just a second. “Here?” he whispers, before tilting his head towards the three younger players watching them from the sofa, all of them too stunned to make any move.

“You’ve got a problem with being watched now?” the support snorts, curling his lips in mockery before he taps his legs again, “Come on, down.”

At first, he hadn’t found himself in these situations many times, he didn’t lose enough for it; but when he did, he didn’t mind having the arrogance fucked out of him sometimes. The rougher they got with him, the more rage he poured out after when he played. It was completely different now, when younger players, who had all grown watching him, admiring him, got involved.

He takes one last glance at the boys, meeting the completely stunned eyes of the enemy mid laner, the tallest and youngest of the three, having to swallow down a wave of nausea at seeing the starry-eyed shine on him, before Sanghyeok finally sinks to his knees.

It feels immediately claustrophobic sitting between the support’s legs, one of his hands quickly flying to grab his hair and press his head onto his crotch as he palms himself with the other free hand.

Sanghyeok glares up at the younger support as he’s brought closer to mouth over the fabric of the uniform pants, trying to push himself upright with his own hands on the other’s legs but failing to do so as Geonhee pushes his head further down so close he can feel the heat on his face through his pants.

The younger pushes down the elastic waistband of his pants and underwear to immediately press the head of his cock against the defeated mid laner’s cheek. For a brief second, Sanghyeok shoots a last, unsure glance at the three youngest teammates again and meets Geonhee’s amused snort when he glares back up.

“They’re just scared because they couldn’t even imagine this was a possibility, but we know better, don’t we?” he mutters, pressing his shaft to Sanghyeok’s lips, forcing his head down so firmly he can’t even back up to really take the member in his mouth, wanting to taint the mid laner’s face before anything else, “We both know how good you’re at choking,” he pulls Sanghyeok’s hair so he can force his face up to finally breach his lips with his cock, “on dick of course, right?”

Tears quickly prickle at the oldest’s eyes as Geonhee establishes a steady rhythm pushing his head down on his cock as he pistons his hips up until he can feel himself reach the back of Sanghyeok’s throat.

Sanghyeok’s wet, gagged sounds, the slap of skin on skin and the breath of the rest of the DRX players getting heavier are the only things that break the silence of the room for the next few minutes as Geonhee punishes his throat shamelessly in front of his team. His fingers stay interlaced in Sanghyeok’s previously perfectly ironed locks with an unforgiving grip, ruining the stylists’ work to keep him polished for the Finals, that had already been a bit messy before from brushing his bangs in frustration and hugging his teammates after the loss.

He keeps his eyes tightly closed together through it, concentrating on breathing as evenly as he can as his throat is thoroughly abused, only opening them to meet Geonhee’s gaze when he yanks his hair to call his attention, not bothering to filter out the disdain that burns in his eyes as he does. The support watches him with such disgust through the tick in his eyes, his lips curling in a grimace everytime he grunts from the stimulation, that Sanghyeok isn’t really sure he wouldn’t spit at him if it crossed his mind.

Suddenly, he’s snatched off from Geonhee’s cock, his now bruised lips curling with a sharp, pained gasp. He tries to regain his breath as the support stands over him, still holding his face close to his groin.

“You should be grateful I took you first,” the younger grunts, smirking at him, jerking himself off over the mid laner’s face, making sure to press the head of his cock into his cheeks again, smearing his skin, smudging the makeup left from when he was prepared for the cameras, full with precum, “otherwise they wouldn’t know how much of a slut you really are, hm?”

Sanghyeok’s eyes burn as he looks up into the support’s, before he flinches, closing them quickly as he feels the spurts of cum falling over his face.

“You’re going to reward them all too, right?”

He swallows down the disgust before opening his eyes again and nodding, feeling it drip over his face and to his lap and the floor. Geonhee sits back in his chair with a satisfied grin and Sanghyeok reaches up to wipe the remaining cum off his face with his uniform sleeve before a gentle hand on his wrist stops him.

“Hyung, have this”, Changhyeong stops him, handing him a tissue, shock still twisting his features despite his attempt at a normal, polite interaction. He takes the tissue, but glances at the jungler’s lap before bringing it to clean his face, watching as he tries to squirm back into his seat to make his erection less obvious. The jungler avoids meeting his gaze, flustered and uncomfortable, trying desperately to turn his attention somewhere else.

“Maybe you should help Hyeokgyu hyung first,” he mutters, tone already strained.

Sanghyeok looks back from his place still kneeling on the carpet between the players to search for Hyeokgyu, only to find the ADC’s gaze already trained on him.

“No, don’t mind me, I’ll be the last one,” he declares, just leaning back on his seat, watching with cold, unreadable eyes. Sanghyeok can’t help scoffing at that, to which the other’s gaze just sharpens, the slight twitch on his lips being the only sign of his annoyance at him.

Then, another voice, barely a breath over the tension in the room, calls to him from the sofa, “Hyung, can I…can you…?” It’s Geonwoo, who immediately blushes up to his ears when the older mid laner turns his attention to him, stammering over his words like he can’t believe what he’s asking for. 

He’s trained in his place between his top laner and jungler, taut with anticipation, staring as the older man pries his legs open gently to kneel between them and caresses his hands to get him to relax and release the death grip he held on his track pants. Sanghyeok glances at the other two players watching from each side, both holding their breaths with strain, entirely focused on what he’s about to do, before turning his attention sorely to the youngest.

He’s ridiculously strong, he notes, feeling his thighs flex unconsciously under his fingers, the type of precariously contained strength of boys that grew too fast for their own good; but keeps his hands firmly on his sides, grasping at the fabric of his clothes or at his own supple skin under it, instead of reaching towards the older mid laner as Sanghyeok caresses him over his pants. He doesn’t really need to do much, the boy is so hard the older is sure that it must be a bit painful, but the way he’s trying so hard to restrain himself is so endearing that he can’t help but play with him gently, taking the opportunity to rest from Geonhee’s previous roughness.

A full body shiver runs through the younger mid laner as Sanghyeok pulls him out of his pants, his dick bouncing up immediately. He can see he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, Sanghyeok wordlessly pushing one of them to hold his team jersey up, exposing his lower belly so that he doesn’t stain the shirt with precum. As the older mid laner presses the crown of his member gently between his fingers, Geonwoo takes his other hand up to muffle the whimpers that threaten to come out of his mouth, letting his body speak for him as his hips twitch up slightly as Sanghyeok jerks him lightly, growing desperate for more friction but unable to ask for anything more.

Sanghyeok, whose expression has remained entirely neutral the whole time, smirks at his genuine reactions and decides to grant the boy some mercy, but not before torturing him a final time. He lets go of the boy’s cock, letting it hang heavily against his stomach, and licks his lips in anticipation, meeting his stare.

“Player Zeka did so well in this series, didn’t he?”

Geonwoo’s cock twitches helplessly at his senior’s praise, trying his hardest to not push his hips up to press himself against his mouth, frowning with the effort of holding himself together, fixating on Sanghyeok’s lips moving as he speaks very, very close to him, “It’s only natural I reward him, right?”

“Is that what you wanted when you asked for me?” Sanghyeok presses further, his breath now ghosting over the head of the boy’s shaft.

The younger mid laner nods desperately, trembling under the older’s touch, and can’t muffle the whine that pours out of his lips when he finally feels Sanghyeok’s wet tongue press against his cock before closing his lips around it in a kiss.

Bobbing his head lightly, he concentrates on sucking around the head, knowing the boy is too sensitive and probably too inexperienced to bear with his teasing for much longer. He flutters his eyelashes when he feels Seonghoon reaching to brush his messy bangs off his face, watching mesmerized as he swallows his teammate’s cock deeper.

Geonwoo keeps trembling, pushing up towards his lips, as Sanghyeok lets go of him, taking his shaft between his fingers instead, taking a breather as the top laner beside them tries pushing his team jacket off his shoulders.

“Take the shirt off, keep the jacket,” the top laner mutters, reaching under his shirt to caress the older mid laner’s skin, grasping at his waist.

Sanghyeok leans back and Geonwoo jerks violently when Sanghyeok’s fingers on his cock are replaced by Seonghoon’s, with a rougher touch on his overstimulated skin, while the older mid laner complies wordlessly, leaving his shirt behind him and putting on his black jacket again, the white letters of his nickname still shining on his back, looking up at the top laner, awaiting more orders.

Orders that come in the form of Seonghoon’s free hand tilting his chin up as kneels on the sofa, standing tall over him to push his dripping member towards Sanghyeok’s face. He takes the clue as he licks a long stripe on the underside of the shaft in front of him.

The top laner is more determined than his mid laner, quickly growing tired of Sanghyeok’s teasing and reaching for his hair to force his head to stay in place as he pushes into the heat of his mouth slowly, shallowly at first. The older can see how he tries pushing further than his teammates before retreating again, watching him with unsure eyes.

“Can you…?” He starts in a low tone, the rest of the question dying in his throat in favor of a hiss as Sanghyeok himself relaxes to swallow his shaft deeper into his throat, holding Seonghoon’s mesmerized stare as he accommodates the whole length inside him.

His breath grows heavier as he stays in place, pressing the head of his cock against the back of Sanghyeok’s throat carefully but otherwise not making any other sudden moves, caressing the mid laner’s bulging cheeks. The older mid laner is completely breathless as Seonghoon pulls out, a thread of saliva connecting his lips to the younger’s skin.

Geonwoo keeps trembling between them after being interrupted, his cock straining against his stomach, Seonghoon’s absentminded jerks only making him more desperate as he watches them both. He moans out pitifully and Sanghyeok isn’t entirely sure he’s referring to him or to Seonghoon, “Hyung, please, hyung…help.”

The top laner mercifully pushes Sanghyeok’s head back down towards his friend and the older slurps on the precum dripping from his head before swallowing as deep as he can again, his throat straining from the size difference. He grows dizzy, so fucking dizzy suddenly, his head swimming with the bit of alcohol he took before going to the DRX’s room, his thoughts clouding until the only thing he can think of is the sensation of the cock choking him.

He thinks he might pass out entirely before Seonghoon pulls his head up by his hair just in time for the younger mid laner to cum, painting Sanghyeok’s chin and collarbones white. He only realizes then just how much he’s trembling too, barely holding himself up with his hands on Geonwoo’s shaky thighs.

Seonghoon crouches to look into his eyes and he notices his gaze might be a bit unfocused from how long he takes to distinguish the younger’s features in front of him, “You ok? Can I take these off?” He nods, but he doesn’t know to what anymore, before the top laner carefully pries off his glasses, grimy with cum. He feels hands on his cheeks but with the lightheadedness and the lack of glasses, he can’t really make out what Seonghoon’s gaze on him means anymore.

“I want you to swallow for me now, can you do that, Sanghyeok hyung? My prize, as MVP, don’t you think it’s right?”

Nodding, he opens up his lips and pulls out his tongue as Seonghoon stands over him again, taking a moment to feel the heavy weight of his cock on his tongue before devouring it whole again. Thankfully, he can just focus of relaxing his throat, too tired for anything else in the moment, as the top laner holds his head firmly in place for him to fuck, the muscles of his stomach growing taut with the familiar tension of an incoming orgasm.

“You’re so good at this, hyung, do you do this with other teams?” the younger grunts, entranced in the way his shaft sinks between the older’s lips again and again, too lost in it to answer his teasing words, “I’ll have to win a lot from now on then.”

“Stay just there,” he groans, leaving the grip on his head to focus on jerking off on Sanghyeok’s open mouth, the head of his shaft barely breaching his lips and pressing on his tongue, “just perfect,” he milks himself until the defeated mid laner’s mouth is full of his release, until it drips over the side of his mouth, until he jerks his eyes and mouth closed when a spurt falls over his eyelashes. He takes Sanghyeok’s face in his hands quickly, forcing him up again until their eyes meet, “Swallow.”

The mid laner makes a show of presenting his open mouth full of cum before drinking it all and licking his lips clean, then opening again to flaunt a job well done with his pink tongue. Seonghoon’s stare burns with possessive desire and he leans down just a bit before Sanghyeok withdraws enough to keep the distance, reading through the top laner’s actions like an open book.

“No kisses in winner’s choice,” he manages to whisper despite the hoarseness in his voice.

Seonghoon nods to himself in consideration and steps back, leaving the mid laner kneeling on the floor wiping the cum off his face with the tissue Changhyeon had given him, his jacket pooling around his elbows, “Ok, ok, sounds fair, I guess.”

“So you have really done this before, huh?” The top laner starts, but Sanghyeok can’t offer any answer as a hand suddenly hoists him up by the arm in a bruising grip.

“If you haven’t decided yet, I’m taking my turn again,” Geonhee grumbles towards his own jungler, dragging Sanghyeok back with him as if he wasn’t even part of what was happening.

He meets Changhyeon’s eyes for a second before the jungler avoids his glance again, conflict painted clearly across his features despite the also evident desire running through his body.

The support snorts before plopping down into his seat again, dragging Sanghyeok with him into his lap.

“You don’t need to be so worried, it’s just a game, isn’t it? So that can’t be it,” he muses, more to himself than towards the jungler beside them, running his hands through Sanghyeok’s naked waist under the jacket to press him down firmly onto his crotch, feeling the hardness under him again after watching him suck off his teammates.

He only acknowledges Sanghyeok as he runs his hands over his ass, “You’ve prepared before, right?”

The mid laner nods dutifully, getting up to take his uniform pants off, before Geonhee dismisses him, “Then you know what to do,” and Sanghyeok can’t help the way the corner of his lips curl up in disgust as he ignores him again to keep talking with Changhyeon, ”What is it then? Maybe you’re one of those players that respect him too much, hm? You think he’s untouchable? Is that it?”

His rambling and his laugh are cut off by a hiss as Sanghyeok wordlessly pulls his hardened cock out and sits on it, sinking down in a single push until he’s settled flush with the support’s thighs, hoisting himself up with an hand on each armrest to fuck himself on Geonhee’s length, biting his lips to silence his gasps.

“I mean look at that, you heard what Seonghoon said, right?” the support groans, taking the mid laner on his lap by the waist to drag him into a faster, harsher rhythm, drawing a pained whine out of him. Only then does Geonhee talk to him again, gripping his jaw as he fucks up into him, “How endearing, they don’t know anything about you,” he muses mockingly, his grip so forceful on Sanghyeok’s waist he’s sure he’s already leaving marks behind, focusing on chasing his pleasure as the mid laner tightens around him in pain, barely able to hold his gaze, burning full with fury, as his face scrunches up and he’s left breathless.

“Should I tell them about last year?” the support goes on, using him like a doll, “Maybe you should tell us all more, did you do this all the other times you’ve lost? What about 2019, you lost in Semis right?” Sanghyeok growls at him, trying to push himself off of him, but the support’s grip is stronger, unforgiving.

“What about 2017? Did you cry in bed too?”

The mid laner snaps, pushing Geonhee’s hands off him and grabbing him by the throat to force him to stop, “Fuck off,” he barks in his face, baring his teeth. Suddenly, he hisses as he feels him cum inside him, rushing to step off from his lap.

Hyeokgyu watches impassively as Changhyeon and Seonghoon rush to comfort the enemy mid laner and separate him from their support, gently bringing him back to sit in the sofa where Geonwoo watches too in stunned silence.

“Crazy bastard,” Sanghyeok snarls, the support raising his arms in mock defeat before tucking himself back in his pants and getting up, fixing his team jacket on his way to the hotel room’s door.

“Don’t leave the boys hanging, hm? I’ll be back in a while to pick them up.”

Sanghyeok glares behind him, breathing deeply to dispel the feeling of nausea settling deep within him, and meets Hyeokgyu’s neutral, still unreadable, stare for just a second as he settles back with the younger teammates.

He doesn’t notice the frustrated tears spilling out of his eyes until Geonwoo innocently reaches to wipe them off his cheeks, the gentle giant’s big soft fingers caressing his skin tenderly.

“Hyung looks pretty when he cries,” he whispers under his breath, avoiding the older’s surprised eyes when he looks up at his fellow mid laner.

That’s exactly what he hated the most about younger players: none of them dared to hate him, maybe they were frustrated with him after difficult matches, but none of them could hold any contempt towards him, the admiration overriding any negative feeling that could flourish inside him. Some poured out their frustration at being unable to win against him before with rough fingers imprinting on his skin, others took and took and took without restraint just for a chance to taint him enough to remember, others thought it was their only opportunity and they had to make it count; but none of them would ever dare to punish him.

Well, none of them were what he had truly come for either.

“Can I…?” the younger mid laner asks, his hand travelling down to his navel. He lets him, of course, sighing softly as Geonwoo laps as the skin of his neck, his hand running between his legs until he puts two fingers inside him, drawing a surprised whine out of him.

He opens his eyes and meets Hyeokgyu’s stare from across the room, he hasn’t moved at all from his place, his hands placidly tangled together over his stomach as he watches it all unfold before him. Sanghyeok sends a smirk his way before letting out an especially high-pitched moan, his hips bucking against the younger mid laner’s hand pushing in and out of him.

All three of them follow the script in Sanghyeok’s mind.

Geonwoo’s eyes shine at him throughout all of it, even as Sanghyeok can’t stop crying from overstimulation when he fucks into him lifted in his arms, desperately gripping the younger’s back so he doesn’t fall and reassuring him, so scared of hurting him. The boy is shy, a romantic, and Sanghyeok opts to hold his face in his hands gently but away at a safe distance, instead of dodging, when he tries to go for kisses, lost in the middle of it. He turns beet red each time, stiff and more quiet, like a scolded child, before he regains his rhythm. He feels his wonder every time Geonwoo looks at him, and in return Sanghyeok feels his throat burn with bile as he lets him finish.

He learns quickly that despite Seonghoon’s initial confidence, he’s the type to not believe his luck as it happened. He fixes the jacket he had asked Sanghyeok to keep on around his shoulders and pushes him down so that he can look at his IGN engraved on it every time he thrusts into him. On a specific moment, he feels him throb deep inside him as he stops to run his fingers over the white letters on his back. He’s closer to what Sanghyeok needs, rough and ruthless as he pounds into him repeatedly, even going as far as to take him by the throat to press them infinitely closer, grunting into his skin. It isn’t enough.

Changhyeon is as reluctant as he’s desperate, trembling under his skillful hands after being riled up the whole night. It pains Sanghyeok just how he seems almost afraid to touch him, caressing his face with a reverence unfitting to their situation. He’s sweet, smiley, excited to please and so, so nervous. It would have been fun, endearing even, if Sanghyeok had been in a better mood, instead of feeling like he’d rather be fucked to unconsciousness.

He lies lifelessly on the only bed of the room as the three of them make their way out, his throat still burning, hating every single decision that had taken him to this point.

Only after a few minutes of silence between them, when Sanghyeok is starting to think he might be able to pass out from the exhaustion, he hears Hyeokgyu get up from his seat, stretching languidly before making his way near him, hovering at the feet of the bed.

“Had enough?”

Sanghyeok laughs openly. It sounds choked, his voice strained to the limit.

“What do you think?”

Hyeokgyu ignores his question, following with one of his own as he goes to sit leaning on the headboard.

“Learnt anything valuable?”

“They’re nice boys,” the mid laner mumbles.

“They sure are,” Hyeokgyu concedes, “I hope you never meet them again, though.”

“How mean…”

He turns to his stomach and leans on his elbows to look at the ADC, whose eyes aren’t even open to look back at him, quietly resting beside him. He must sense him watching expectantly because Hyeokgyu’s delicate features scrunch up in a scowl before speaking in a barely audible whisper.

“I was having such a good night until you appeared here. Is there a moment in my career you won’t ruin for me?”

Sanghyeok outright beams at that.

“Can I suck you off?”

“No.”

The mid laner pouts in displeasure, deciding to crawl closer to the other man on the bed.

“You act so high and mighty for someone that has been watching me for hours. You could have stopped it anytime if you’re so disgusted.”

The ADC meets his gaze evenly before speaking, his tone unwavering, “I have no desire to engage with your twisted attempts at self-harm.”

Sanghyeok falls silent, considering the younger’s expression as he goes back to resting with his eyes closed. A last idea crosses his mind.

“Do you wish it was Minseokie right here with you no-”

There it was.

The instant flare of rage that flashes through the ADC’s eyes as he gets up to grab his face. That’s what he had been looking for the whole night.

“Don’t you dare-”

Hyeokgyu’s voice is contained when he speaks and his expression only reflects a small percentage of the venom running through his veins right now, but Sanghyeok knows him better.

“Would you prefer it was him crying for you? Hm?" He strains through the younger’s grip on his throat, baring his crooked fangs at him with a wicked smile, "Fuck me, Hyeokgyu hyung."

“Enough.”

Hyeokgyu pushes him so harshly he’s thrown back on the bed, as the ADC takes the opportunity to get some distance between them and run for the door, huffing indignantly as Sanghyeok barks out a laugh, breathless and mean.

He takes one last look at Sanghyeok before stepping out of the door, barely contained rage and disgust meeting his smug, satisfied smirk, feeling the finger-shaped bruises bloom under his skin. Finally.

After the silence takes away the warmth from him and the tingle under his skin vanishes, he feels significantly emptier than when he knocked on the door hours before, but that wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected. 

He goes through the motions silently: discarding his cum-stained jacket for the slightly more presentable shirt that he had taken off at first, searching for his glasses and wiping the grime off them before putting them on again, attempting to fix his bangs without a mirror because he'd rather not see himself for a nice while, harshly scrubbing off the sticky sensation all over his body, not minding if some parts turned red in the process, brushing his teeth until he felt like vomiting.

It’s past six in the morning when he saunters back into his own room, not wanting to make any noise.

It doesn’t surprise him either that there’s a figure waiting on his balcony. Hearing the door, Seongwoong throws his cigarette to the floor and stomps on it before rushing to embrace Sanghyeok, his hands flying to his arms to hold him firmly for examination.

“Where were y-” Recognition flashes in his friend’s eyes when he meets Sanghyeok’s absent stare, falling silent, caressing the younger’s arms weakly as takes his state in.

The jungler exhales a trembling breath through a wave of unease before leaning down to meet the younger man’s eyes. Sanghyeok's stomach lurches at the concerned glint on his round eyes, swallowing down the apology that forms on his tongue before it can make it past his lips.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

The younger man gives out the smallest nod, almost imperceptible if Seongwoong didn’t already know all of his mannerisms by heart, and hesitates for a bit before throwing himself to the older’s arms, hiding his face in his neck.

It doesn’t take long before he can hear Sanghyeok sob quietly on his shoulder.

“It hurts so much,” he mumbles with a feeble voice.

“Can you walk?” the older asks and feels the mid laner nod into his shoulder, “Come on, then, I’ll wash your hair.”

Sanghyeok wishes he could fall asleep like that: warm water up to his neck, his long legs drawn to his chest and Seongwoong’s fingers tenderly carding through his locks. He's so, so tired.

“Are you angry at me?” he mutters, not daring to turn back at Seongwoong, already knowing the answer from his drawn-out silence before he sets on any answer that might comfort him.

He really, really should stop.