“chen, out.”

“shh. quiet, quiet, quiet,” jongin whispers against chanyeol’s lips, his fingers digging into the elder’s hips as he pushes chanyeol against the storage closet door, their personal vjs frantically searching for them in the children’s department somewhere two floors up.

“kris, out.”

chanyeol gasps, throwing his head back against the wooden surface as jongin’s mouth travels across his jaw and down his neck, the younger taking his sweet time to thoroughly ravage the soft, tender flesh along the dip of chanyeol’s collarbone. and jongin gently nips at the already abused, reddening skin, taking care not to leave any lasting marks. because they’re in the middle of filming, with tons of video cameras pointed in their direction, staff running around everywhere.

and just maybe possessively marking chanyeol as his territory wouldn’t be very appropriate for public image. 

somewhere on the other side of the wall, luhan’s piercing shriek and coughing laughter leaks in through the crack under the door, followed right after by the coarse, crackling sound of velcro being ripped off of someone’s back.

“luhan, out.”

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