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The first thing Kiryeo registered was the silence.
a suffocating, absolute silence that pressed against his eardrums as if the world itself had vanished.
He blinked once.
The alley he’d been walking through only a second ago while thinking about ramen for dinner, was gone. Now, he was in a large white space with eerie silence and endless blurry horizon, The floor beneath his black oxford shoes shined with white concrete.
The only object in sight was a king-size bed, with a mattress so white it almost blended into the background.
A bed, in the middle of nothing.
Kiryeo’s lips parted slightly, His expression stayed blank as ever— but inside, his head was spinning.
–An extra gate, Has to be, This doesn’t feel like any of the gates I’ve ever entered, Is this for resting?–
Before he could form another theory, light shimmered not so far, Two more figures appeared in front of him, and Kiryeo’s stomach dropped instantly.
Kang Changho.
And Jeon Heasong.
He didn’t know which was worse.
Changho was an example of controlled violence— tall, broad shouldered, muscular, filling the space emptiness with only his presence, His long dark purple hair framed a face that would’ve been almost too handsome if not for the permanent smirk carved into it, Green eyes sharp enough to cut glass, a mouth that curved into grins like knives when he found something amusing.
He looked every inch the predator he was reputed to be—S-rank, lethal, captivating, in both looks and strength.
Jeon Heasong was the opposite in personality and manners, His presence was composed, rational, calm — but no less intimidating, His long lashes cast shadows over eyes that were pitch black, eyes that matched the color of his hair perfectly, except for the white strands that rested against the inky hair. His expression soft and calm, his every move deliberate and calculated, Where Changho radiated with hidden aggression, ready to leap on anyone if it will serve his own benefit, Heasong radiated quiet control, His beauty was refined, precise, like a sculpture in living flesh.
And both of them, unfortunately, landed their eyes on Kiryeo.
The glowing script appeared on the air, with red letters.
[Rule: Intense physical contact.]
The silence deepened.
Changho let out a sharp laugh, humorless. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Heasong’s brow furrowed slightly, thinking.
Kiryeo’s head tilted, still blank-faced, even as his alien thoughts screamed inside.
–Oh god. I knew it. I should’ve studied harder. Okay, stay calm. Contact means… Pat on the back? Maybe holding hands in a circle? I can do that. Easy. There's nothing hard on the greatest mage in the universe–
“Maybe,” he said out loud, voice flat and casual, “we just… hug? To clear it, I mean.”
The two S-ranks turned to him at the same time, and Kiryeo immediately regretted opening his mouth.
Changho’s eyes narrowed, amusement twisting into his tone. “Hug? You really don’t get it, do you?”
Heasong’s gaze was steady, but there was weight behind it, old tension from the incident where Kiryeo had knocked him out —Well, except he didn't– Heasong had a grudge against him since then, even after he knew that Changho threatened him to take the blame—but apparently, knocking out an S-rank in a gate wasn’t the kind of thing people easily forgot, Who knew?
"This gate isn’t talking about embraces.” Heasong muttered.
The weight of their presence pressed closer. One step, then another.
Kiryeo took a half-step back, his blank face betraying nothing, though inside his thoughts were shrieking.
–Wait! Wait! This is escalating so fast! They can’t mean–The clear condition is SEX? Oh, stars above. I quit my job in one planet just to get screwed in another–
Changho moved first, standing –no, hovering– to Kiryeo’s left, like a predator savoring the cornering of prey.
Heasong mirrored him on the right, every step measured, graceful, unhurried, as though he already knew Kiryeo’s escape was impossible.
Together, they loomed.
Kiryeo stood frozen in the narrowing space between them, like a deer trapped by two lions.
Changho’s lips curved into a smirk, highlighting his deep dimples, as he leaned closer, his voice a rough murmur by Kiryeo’s ear. “Funny, isn’t it? F-rank caught in an ex-gate, not once, but twice."
On his right, Heasong’s voice was quiet, even calm—but the calm only made it worse. “The gate’s rules are absolute. You want to survive, don’t you?”
A chill ran down Kiryeo’s spine.
Hands moved before his brain could process.
Changho’s fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt, tugging it up just enough to expose the pale curve of his waist. fingertips grazed skin slowly, lingering, making Kiryeo shiver despite himself.
On the other side, Heasong’s hand pressed flat against ribs, sliding with maddening patience upward over the thin fabric, thumb brushing across a nipple through the cloth. The friction made Kiryeo’s breath catch in his throat.
Changho’s other hand was already moving lower, palming the bulge between Kiryeo’s legs through the fabric of his pants. His smirk widened when he felt the twitch under his palm.
“Sensitive, huh? Blank expression doesn’t match what’s going on down here.”
Heasong’s pressed a soft kiss on the side of his neck, "Relax."
Kiryeo’s heart hammered like crazy, he'd never been close to anyone like this before, he'd never been touched like this before, a sound escaped him before he could stop it — half-whimper, choked, His legs felt weak, heat spreading beneath his skin.
Changho’s palm rubbed slowly over the clothed length of his cock, coaxing another betraying twitch. While Heasong’s fingers teased his nipples through the fabric, circling them until they peaked beneath the shirt. Asking to be freed, “It seems the gate’s condition won’t be difficult to fulfill after all.” Haesong mumbled.
Kiryeo’s head spun.— oh god, that’s—too much—
His breathing grew shallow, mouth parting against his will, eyelids fluttering as if the combined touches overwhelmed him.
Changho tugged his shirt higher, exposing one side of his chest, and pinched the bare nipple between his fingers, sharp enough to make Kiryeo jolt.
Heasong took advantage, sliding his palm lower, across Kiryeo’s stomach, brushing dangerously close to where Changho’s hand was already working him through his pants.
The two S-ranks shared a glance over Kiryeo’s shoulders — rivalry sparking in their eyes.
Then, almost deliberately, both pressed closer, their bodies boxing him in, their hands tugging, teasing, stripping away layers of clothes, leaving him only in his white shirt.
Kiryeo’s alien mind was reduced to incoherent static.
A broken sound slipped past his lips.
Changho chuckled low, satisfied. “There it is. Cracks in the nonechalant mask.”
Kiryeo didn’t know where to turn, trapped between them, their hands roaming, touching skin that had never been touched before. Every brush made him flinch, shiver, breath catch.
And then Changho’s arms hooked suddenly under his bare thighs.
Kiryeo only managed a strangled "Hmpff?!–" as his feet left the ground, body lifted effortlessly into the air. His long legs wrapped instinctively around Changho’s waist, his back pressing firmly against Heasong’s chest who was behind him, as both of them steadied him between them.
Sandwiched—utterly in their hands, utterly in their mercy.
Changho’s smirk widened, voice a rough promise.“Now the real fun starts.”
Kiryeo swallowed, he was already panting slightly before it even started, His shirt hung open, white fabric dangling loosely, collar slipping down of one shoulder. Exposing more creamy skin, a few blond strands from his bangs stuck against his flushed forehead, while some fell messly around his face. mouth parted, panting like he’d already been ruined. But Changho wasn’t done with him. Haesong wasn’t done with him. They wanted more, they won't just stop at touching and teasing—they wanted to stuff him, split him open, fuck him until his voice broke and his body couldn’t bear it anymore.
Haesong was the first to move. His hands were steady, sliding down, lower. Kiryeo gasped when two fingers pressed against his rim.
“Relax,” Haesong muttered against his ear, voice husky, soothing. “I'm opening you up. You’re gonna take both of us.”
he forgot to mention -at the same time-.
Kiryeo’s head dropped back against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded, breath shuddering out. “I–can't—”
“You can.” Changho cut him off, voice sharp, commanding. His eyes were dark, clouded with arousal, his abs flexing as he leaned in, murmuring in his ear "But it'll need a little effort.”
To prove his point, Changho caught Kiryeo’s jaw, forcing his lips apart. Then he slid two of his fingers between them.
“Suck.”
Kiryeo whined, muffled around his fingers, but he obeyed. His tongue wrapped around them, wetting them thoroughly, his mouth working as Changho shoved them deeper. Drool slid from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his bare chest.
“That’s it,” Changho said, pulling them out with a wet pop. Strings of spit connected his fingers to Kiryeo’s lips.
Without warning, he shoved those spit-slicked fingers down to join Haesong’s. Two sets of fingers pressed at once into Kiryeo’s twitching hole, stretching him brutally wide.
" Nghh–?!!" Kiryeo jerked, a strangled moan leaving his throat. His legs tightening around Changho's waist, “f—fuck, s..slow down–” he squirmed, hips trying to twist away, But they wouldn’t let him.
“shhhh,” Haesong soothed, sinking another finger inside. The obscene stretch made Kiryeo sob, his cock pressed against Changho’s abs, smearing pre-cum across hard muscle.
Changho bent down, close enough for Kiryeo to feel his breath against his lips. “You’re so fuckable like this, being this pent up from only fingers, Almost cute. ” he whispered.
Kiryeo's eyes squeezed shut, every nerve was on fire as both of them pumped their fingers into him, scissoring, curling, hitting that perfect spot again and again, Forcing him open past reason. He could hear the wet squelch of it, feel the burn deep inside, his walls clenching uselessly against the intrusion.
And then—finally—those fingers pulled out.
“We’re just starting.” Haesong’s teeth dragged across his neck, sharp, leaving a stinging mark as he spoke.
Changho lined up first, thick cock pressed against Kiryeo’s rim. While Haesong lined up from behind, cock hard and throbbing, pressing against the same hole.
Kiryeo’s breath stuttered. His whole body went rigid. "Wait–ah..wait!—both? At the same time—”
“Absolutely yes.” Changho spat in his hand, slicked himself quickly, then pressed forward. Slowly, the thick head forced past the swollen ring, making Kiryeo arch off Haesong’s chest with a cry.
“Fuck, he’s tight,” Changho gritted out, inch by inch sinking in. “Still greedy, though. He’s sucking me in.”
Before Kiryeo could catch his breath, Haesong pushed in too. The head of his cock forced in alongside Changho’s, stretching the rim to its absolute limit.
“S–top—fuck—ah” Kiryeo’s voice broke, his body thrashing weakly, but they pinned him between them, relentless.
their cocks were inhumanly large.
“Breathe,” Haesong ordered, teeth sinking into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. “You can do it.”
Bit by bit, they sank deeper, both cocks shoving into the same hole. The stretch was unbearable, brutal, hot pain tangled with overwhelming pleasure. Kiryeo’s moan ripped out from his soul as they bottomed out, his body trembling violently.
Kiryeo’s dick was leaking, painfully hard, smearing pre-cum across Changho’s abs, twitching helplessly with every deep pulse inside him.
And then—they moved.
The first thrust made Kiryeo's arms wrap around Changho's neck for support, mouth falling open without sound. They pulled back together, then slammed forward, burying themselves to the hilt again, their cocks grinding against each other inside his stretched hole.
“AHHN–NGHH!!—” Kiryeo choked, head falling down on Changho's shoulder, gritting his teeth, nails clawing at Changho's skin, thighs tightening around his hips.
Changho’s hand gripped his jaw, lifting his head, forcing him to look forward. His thrusts were sharp, brutal, slamming him slightly against Haesong’s chest with every snap of his hips. “Gonna breed you until you can’t stand.”
Kiryeo whimpered, eyes glassy, overwhelmed, his body reduced to nothing but sensation. Each thrust forced a strangled sound out of him, half-moan, half-cry, as his prostate was abused again and again and again. His cock rubbed between them, caught against Changho’s hard stomach, leaking endlessly.
Their pace was merciless, They moved in sync, grinding into him, stretching him, making him feel stuffed to the hilt. Marks bloomed all over his neck, shoulders and collarbone where they bit and sucked, leaving bruises that would linger for days.
Kiryeo was nothing but wreckage between them, moaning, drooling, pleading. “P-please—ahh..please p-please...hngh!!—”
His cock twitched violently as he came, painting Changho’s abs and his own abdomen with white streaks. His hole clamped down tight, milking their cocks, dragging guttural groans from both of them.
“Shit—he’s squeezing—fuck—” Changho snarled, hips slamming harder.
Haesong’s growl vibrated against the crook of his neck as he bit down again.
They came almost together, cocks throbbing inside him, spilling hot loads deep into his stuffed hole. Kiryeo sobbed, head thrown back, resting against Haesong's shoulder, tears streaking his flushed cheeks as he felt himself being filled, bred, pumped full until it spilled back out around them.
But they didn’t stop.
Even overstimulated, trembling, barely able to breathe, Kiryeo was still fucked through the aftershocks. Harder, thrust after thrust, nonstop, they milked his prostate without rest, the places where Changho's cock didn't fill, Haesong's cock did, the places where Haesong's cock couldn't reach, Changho's cock did, Their rivalry flared—each of them determined to keep thrusting, to make him cum again and again, to suck him dry, to see who could make him cry harder, to prove who could ruin him more.
Changho’s hand clamped around kiryeo's softening cock after the third orgasm, forcing it to life again, “Whose cock makes you cum harder, huh? Mine?” He slammed in deep, grinding his hips until Kiryeo sobbed, trembling arms pushing weakly at Changho's firm broad chest, a pathetic attempt to make the overstimulation stop.
Haesong’s teeth dragged across his ear, slamming even deeper, his voice a low growl. “Or mine? Tell us, Kiryeo. Tell us.”
By now, Kiryeo couldn’t speak. He couldn't form thoughts, his voice was gone, shredded to broken gasps and cries. His only answer was the way his hole clenched around them, the way his cock twitched and spilled again.
They fucked him through it all, Fucked him until words were impossible, until his body was reduced to trembling, sweat-soaked ruin, stuffed full of cock and cum, bred over and over until his eyes rolled back and he couldn’t remember his own name.
After god knows how many rounds, Kiryeo’s body finally gave in, His head sank back heavily against Heasong’s shoulder, blonde hair plastered to his flushed and tear-streaked cheeks, sweat glistening along his jaw. legs unlocking from Changho's hips, His long lashes fluttered slowly, then stilled.
Completely gone, Out cold.
Heasong looked taken back, but the predator’s satisfaction heavy in his gaze as he tilted Kiryeo’s slack face towards him. “He passed out…” he muttered, brushing a thumb across his spit-slick lips. Then, Heasong kissed him hard, prying his mouth open even though Kiryeo was too far gone. He bit down on his lower lip, enough to draw a faint smear of blood, then licked it up like it belonged to him.
Changho’s grip never loosened from Kiryeo’s thighs. His big hands kept him up even when kiryeo's legs fell, He leaned in, pressing his own mouth to Kiryeo’s parted lips after Heasong pulled away.
For a moment, the three were still locked together—Heasong’s chest against Kiryeo’s limp back, Changho flush against his front, their cocks still buried inside him, The air was thick with the musk of sex, hot and suffocating.
Then, finally, A shimmer of pale light bled into the space around them.
The exit.
But they didn’t move. Not yet.
Slowly, painfully, Changho and Heasong began to ease out of him. The stretch clung, every ridge dragging against abused walls until at last they slipped free with wet, obscene pop. Kiryeo’s hole twitched violently, clutching at nothing and painted red around the rim from the abuse.
And then it started.
Cum—thick, sticky, spilled out of him in waves. It streamed slowly down into the floor. It didn’t stop. Every thrust from earlier had stuffed him so full that now, with nothing plugging him, his body couldn’t contain it.
“Fuck…” Changho’s voice cracked. He couldn’t look away. His cock twitched even softening, seeing the sheer mess they’d made of him. “That’s… unreal.”
Heasong only chuckled, low and vicious, his lips still pressed to Kiryeo’s temple. “Look at him. Pretty little thing"
They kept holding him between them, the blonde completely lifeless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, his head turned into Heasong’s neck. Bite marks and bruises painted his throat, shoulders, collarbone—red and purple constellations over pale skin. His shirt, the last piece of clothing he’d had, hung open and useless, plastered to his sweat-slick body.
The gate’s light pulsed brighter, urging them to step through.
But neither moved. Both of them were staring at the man in their arms, ruined and leaking, covered in their marks, their seed.
Changho finally went towards the bed, easing his grip, carefully lowering Kiryeo so he wouldn’t collapse, but never letting him go entirely.
Haesong sat beside kiryeo's unconscious body, “Let him rest a minute,” Haesong said quietly, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from Kiryeo’s damp forehead. “He earned it.”
Changho smirked, though his hands softened on Kiryeo’s arm, rubbing it absently. “Yeah."