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It’s going on three hours that Sungho has spent hunched over his desk studying for his Anatomy and Physiology midterm, glaring at pictures of all 206 bones in the human body and all of their tuberosities and notches that he has to memorize for some reason. He’s not even sure how this relates to Exercise Science and he swears if he mixes up the ulna and radius one more time he’s gonna flip out so it’s fair to say he’s at his limit.
Normally, he’d figure he needs a break to get up, stretch, have a snack, and watch a couple episodes of the show he’s in the middle of. However, he dug himself into a six foot hole and waited to study until the day before the midterm. Not only does he have a written portion, with all the bone formation and tissue nonsense, he has a lab practical. In which he has to identify bones on a human model. So in a nutshell, hell on earth.
The smart thing to do would be to suck it up, crack open an energy drink and drill the information into his mind until bone marrow haunts his dreams at night. And Sungho likes to consider himself to be pretty smart, yet, against all better judgement he rises from his desk chair with a couple packets and makes towards his roommate’s room. Sungho thinks, on the short fifteen stride walk to his destination, that roommate is quite a watered down description.
“Riwoo,” He calls out, pushing the door open, “Can you help me with someth— Oh.”
He cuts himself off upon realizing that Jaehyun, his other roommate is laying in Riwoo’s bed, leaning on his shoulder. “Jaehyun’s here too huh,”
“What’s up, Sungho?” Riwoo asks, looking up from his phone. Sungho chooses not to acknowledge the way he’s absentmindedly stroking Jaehyun’s hair. “Can you help me study for my anatomy exam?” And as he says it, Sungho realizes that he didn’t really think about how Riwoo could even be remotely helpful right now. He’s a dance major, completely out of his element here, and would likely only confuse Sungho even more.
“I guess I can, but I don't know anything about what you’re learning.” Riwoo smiles, sitting up a little against the pillows. “Didn’t you take anatomy in high school, Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun opens his eyes, looking like he was about to fall asleep under Riwoo’s ministrations, “Yeah, but I didn’t do that great. Don’t remember a thing!” He laughs out. It’s when Sungho notices Riwoo’s ankle, or, his lateral malleolus of the fibula (pat on the back for remembering that), protruding from his skin, that he gets an idea.
“That’s okay,” He says, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I just need to identify the bones on your body like I would in my lab practical.” Once the words have left his mouth he realizes that it’s quite an unusual ask, to say the least. “If that’s okay with you.” He adds. Riwoo raises his eyebrows at that, confirming that it is indeed a weird thing to ask. Alternatively, Jaehyun cackles, poking Riwoo in the arm, “Riwoo is kinda bony isn’t he?” Riwoo shoves Jaehyun as he sits up, clearly a bit embarrassed, “That’s fine with me, if it helps you…”
If the two of them are aware that this is all just a form of a break under the guise of studying, they definitely don’t point it out. Sungho fully climbs onto the bed, and he and Riwoo sit across from each other, crisscrossed with their knees knocking together.
“Here, you can help too,” he hands Jaehyun the packets he brought, “Just read off some of the terms here and I'll, um, touch where they are.”
“Got it!” Jaehyun exclaims with a smile, way too excited for who knows why. “Ooh, some of these look familiar, hehe,”
“O-Kay, let’s start with… left humerus!” Sungho places his right hand around Riwoo’s thin arm, kind of awkward because what’s the correct way to casually touch someone’s upper arm. “Now, show me the proximal end,”
Sungho furrows his eyebrows at the use of proximal, “Wh— I thought you didn't remember anything?”
“Mm, it’s coming back to me, just for this,” Jaehyun replies, a lopsided grin on display. Sungho can just about see the cogs turning in his head, and he doesn’t like it.
His hand lightly slides up Riwoo’s arm to where it attaches to his torso. “…and distal,” After regretting giving Jaehyun the role of instructor, he slides his hand down to Riwoo’s elbow. Sungho can feel him shiver under his hand and chews his bottom lip.
“Now… right carpals,” Sungho moves his left hand to slightly above Riwoo’s wrist, squeezing the junction where his hand meets his arm. “Alright, now, his metacarpals!” and Sungho thinks again that Jaehyun is far too excited.
Since this started (not even 10 minutes ago), the room’s adopted this thick tension, sticky on Sungho’s skin. He and Riwoo’s gazes meet, eyes wet and pupils wide, and it makes him warm. A warmth all too familiar.
It checks out, honestly. The idea is far less studying and moreso a glorified version of feeling Riwoo up (and deep down Sungho knew that when he proposed it), so it’s no surprise that it’s turning out more like the latter. The issue is that it’s proving to be more of a distraction than he intended. What’s worse, is that Jaehyun is the one reading these things off, and if he knows what parts of the body the terms refer to, this will definitely spiral out of control.
And chances are he does because he’s the type to be more knowledgeable than he lets on for the sake of the bit.
He slowly grazes his fingers up to the middle of Riwoo’s hand, “Okay, now the phalanges,”, and up to hold his fingers.
“Okay, now hold hands.” Jaehyun demands, practically giddy. Sungho rolls his eyes, “I don’t remember that being on the sheet, Jaehyun.”
“I suspect he has ulterior motives, yeah?” Riwoo chided, intertwining their fingers.
“I think so too,”
“You guys wound me! I’m just trying to help our dear Sungho with his studies,” Jaehyun shocks, faking offense, “Left tibia.”
“Whatever you say,” Sungho smiles, placing his hand on Riwoo’s inner shin, pressing into the flesh to feel the bone as best he can. He slides his hands up and down the skin, fully understanding what this situation has turned into. Riwoo places his hand on top of his, moving along with him, and he’s glad that they’re on the same page. Jaehyun clearly sees this as entertainment, Riwoo and Sungho as his toys to mess with, so the two of them may as well play it up.
“Ooh, pretty good~” Jaehyun teases, eyeing their hands. “Femur, medial, hehe.” Sungho clicks his tongue at that. What a creep. He runs his hand up to Riwoo’s inner thigh, and doesn’t miss the way the other’s breath hitches when his hand breaches under the hem of his shorts. He can’t really feel the bone (and it’d be worrying if he could), since it’s surrounded by so much skin and muscle, but it’s not quite about the bones anymore anyway.
He eyes Jaehyun as his hand moves up and down, searching for a reaction. Jaehyun just grins. He waits a couple seconds, acting as though he’s thinking despite his eyes fixated on where the other two touch. “Mmm, okay… now, sternum.” Sungho places his hand flat against the middle of Riwoo’s chest, staring into the other’s eyes. They’re still holding hands, despite the “phalanges” term being a couple words ago, though Sungho doesn’t try to unravel their fingers.
Jaehyun clears his throat, “Zygomatic bone,” he says, with as serious of a face he can muster. “Wow, Jaehyun.” You couldn’t be more obvious, Sungho omits. Riwoo smiles shyly, probably confused because the word zygomatic means fuck-all to him.
“What? I didn’t have to help you y’know,” Jaehyun shrugs, “There’s nothing weird about touching his cheek, unless you make it weird,” The smile he has on is creepy, one that tells Sungho he knows what he’s doing, and knows he’s been caught, but doesn’t care regardless. Sungho exhales, and lifts his hand from Riwoo’s chest to cup his cheek, which continue to grow impossibly redder.
It’s strange, the way that this exact string of events has occurred over and over, faster and messier some times, slower and gentler other times. It’s happened with roles switched around, with and without an audience, but Sungho digresses. The point is, this is not new. But for some odd reason, the guise of schoolwork makes it feel far more scandalous than it truly is. Like it’s against the rules, illegal almost. Like they could be caught in the act at any moment. Sungho rubs Riwoo’s cheekbone, thumbing the mole below his eye and enjoys the way his lashes flutter at the touch. Riwoo’s free hand lands on his knee, and he catches himself from leaning in on instinct.
“Ooh,” Jaehyun interjects, barely above a whisper, “You guys should totally kiss.” Shameless. Riwoo’s Adam's apple bobs, his laryngeal prominence, Sungho identifies, and pats himself on the back once again. “Well, do you think we should?”
He sees Riwoo’s eyes flit down to his lips, and back up to meet his eyes again, “I think I want to.”
Without hesitation, Sungho closes the gap and presses his lips to Riwoo’s. The kiss is light, barely even there, their lips grazing against each other. For barely a moment they sit there, breath mingling between them until Riwoo grabs Sungho’s face and drags him into something far hungrier. It grows fervent and sloppy and needy, all teeth and tongue as if they’d both been starving for days. Riwoo leans his whole body forward to crawl into Sungho’s lap, throwing his arms around his shoulders as he grabs Riwoo’s hips.
Sungho doesn’t have to look to see that Jaehyun’s staring at them. He can feel his eyes raking over the junction where their bodies are pressed together, Riwoo’s thighs caging Sungho’s hips, their torsos pushing against each other, and the sheen of saliva on their lips. Though, he wishes he could see Jaehyun’s face now that he’s getting what he wants. He can imagine however, from past events. It’s likely his jaw is slacked, mouth forming an O, pupils wide, redness creeping down his neck, and a slight strain in his sweatpants, perhaps covered by the packets in his hands.
“Good,” He mumbles, just barely audible, and Sungho likes it way too much. And by the way Riwoo groans against his mouth he guesses that he likes it too. “I’m gonna continue, don’t stop.” Sungho doesn’t know how Jaehyun gained control of the situation when this is meant to be his study session, but the plot is entirely lost now anyway. Anything now is unabashedly for his own freakish fantasy.
“Cervical spine,” He suggests, still mumbling. Sungho places his hand at the base of Riwoo’s neck, around where C4 and C5 would be, and revels in the way the bones stick out from under his skin. The truth is that Riwoo really is thin, and bony, and sharp, and something about the way you can feel and see the presence of his skeleton is strangely hot to Sungho. He presses and drags the pads of his fingers around Riwoo’s neck, far more sensual than it needs to be for where he’s touching, and swallows up the moan the other lets out.
“Does that feel good?” He asks against Riwoo’s lips, to which he gets an “Mm,” and a desperate kiss back.
He looks to his right to where Jaehyun is sitting, who confirms the image of him that Sungho had in his head. He looks a mess despite having done nothing but watch, like it’s torturing him to be sidelined for this. He looks like he’s just about drooling at the sight in front of him, like he wants to reach out and touch, but is forcing himself to refrain. It's cute, especially the way he shifts around in an attempt to push down his clear arousal.
He meets Sungho’s eyes, “Down to his lumbar spine. Like, L7.” Seriously shameless.
Sungho slowly traces the path of Riwoo’s vertebrae, feeling every ridge and bump down his thoracic spine and savoring the shivers it elicits from him. Riwoo’s back arches farther the lower he goes, whining down at Sungho as he tongues the inside of his mouth. The whole thing is obscene, from the saliva stringing between their mouths to Riwoo’s bowed back, ass sticking out like he saps life from Sungho’s touch. He nears the lowest part of Riwoo’s spine, fingertips breaching the waistband of his shorts, and Riwoo arches impossibly further and runs his hand through Sungho’s hair.
“You two are so fucking hot,” Jaehyun all but groans, shifting closer to the other two.
Riwoo looks over, a bit out of it, and slurs out “You’re weird, Jaehyun,” with a big grin on his face. “Watching us make out, ordering Sungho around like we’re your toys. You’re dirty.” And Jaehyun just flashes a smile, eyes glazed and eyebrows raised like Riwoo’s words are music to his ears, “Yeah, I know right?” He agrees, hand ghosting his own waistband, “But you guys are so good at this, y’know?”
He looks down at the packet (not satisfied yet apparently), and searches for his next command. “Mandible to clavicle, and” he pauses, like he’s piecing the thought together, “And… no hands.” He instructs, biting his lip.
“No hands?” Sungho questions, not sure what he’s getting at. Riwoo however, seems to have caught on, and pulls Sungho by the face to plant a kiss to his jaw. Oh.
Sungho runs with it, and starts to kiss along the sharp angle of Riwoo’s jaw, nipping and licking at the skin as he makes his way to his neck. He sucks hard, scattering marks all over Riwoo’s neck with one big one right in the center of his throat. Continuing, Sungho trails down to his collarbone, tugs down the collar of his shirt, and licks the divot where the skin sinks around it. Riwoo holds the back of his head, holding him down as he pants into the open air. “Sungho…”
Jaehyun groans lowly, and if Sungho had to guess, he probably had a hand down his pants at this very moment. “One more,” He says breathily, the packet crinkling in his hand, “Pubis,”
Sungho is so caught up in the feeling, in putting on a show with Riwoo, and Jaehyun ordering him around, and being insanely fucking turned on that he completely forgot what he was supposedly here for. That the word barely even registers in his mind. He realizes he doesn’t really know where in the pelvic girdle the pubic bone is, and draws a blank completely.
“…Let me do this one,” Riwoo grinds down into Sungho’s lap, eliciting a choked moan from the man below him. Sungho bucks his hips up into Riwoo’s, searching for more friction, mind completely clouded with desire.
“Good, so good,” Jaehyun practically moans out, “Keep going.”