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Summary
More involuntary sounds escape Yunho. Moans, groans, a whiny protest vaguely consisting of the felines' names.
“Oh, he loves this, doesn’t he?” chirps Wooyoung, extremely pleased with himself.
“He does, even though he’ll deny it,” San agrees, chuckling. “So tense and twitchy, and from what?”
“Just our tongues,” replies Wooyoung. “It’s just our tongues that got our pup so fucked up, San-ah. Kind of cute how pathetic he is, hm?”
“Be nice, Youngie,” San scolds him, but his growing smile tells a different story.
Defeated, Yunho sags between them, sweat-slick hands clutching at the blankets, tail wagging in uneven bursts as his composure slips further and further away.
OR: caught between a cherry-tailed menace and a black-furred sweetheart, helpless puppy Yunho gets ruined beyond saving.
