Alexander King (Alex) had perfected the art of masks.
On screen, he was flawless- cold villains, brilliant princes, men who bent the world with a smirk. Off-screen, he was untouchable, every movement rehearsed, every smile sculpted for cameras.
But his bodyguards knew better.
The moment the penthouse door shut behind them, the mask slipped. Alex leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling too quickly, his hands trembling as he reached for the buttons of his shirt but failed to undo them. His voice cracked in a whisper.
"Please... take it from me. I can't carry it anymore.''
The four men exchanged a look. They had waited all day for this- watching him force charm into interviews, stiffen into character, hold himself so perfectly he looked carved from marble. And now he was offering himself to them, begging.
Levi, their captain, crossed the room first. He caught Alex's chin between strong fingers and tilted his head up. "You've been ours from the beginning," he said, his tone sharp but thick with affection. "The world can have its actor. We'll have the man underneath."
Alex shivered.
The guards moved in, surrounding him like a pack. Julian, the youngest, stripped off Alex's jacket while Calum tugged at his shirt until the buttons scattered across the floor. Soon, the polished suit lay in pieces replaced by pale skin flushed pink under their touch.
He gasped when rough hands shoved him onto the leather couch. Leo pinned his wrists above his head while Mark pressed a knee between his thighs, forcing them apart. Alex writhed, tears already slipping down his cheeks- not from pain, but from the flood of release, the loss of control he craved more than breath.
"You love this," Julian whispered softly against his ear. "All those fans think you're untouchable, but look at you. Already shaking. AIready ours."
Alex let out a broken sound, nodding, his voice a desperate rasp. "Yes. yours...all of you."
The guards didn't hold back.
They used him in turns, each one staking their claim- Levi's control, Julian's teasing cruelty, Calum's relentless pace, Mark's rough strength. Every time he thought he couldn't take more, another filled him stretched him, wrung out another cry. His body arched and bucked, the sharp edges of the couch biting into his back, but he clung to every moment, drunk on the weight of them pressing him down, the heat of their voices commanding him to submit.
By the time the last one took him, Alex was wrecked- voice hoarse, body trembling, tears streaking his perfect face.
He begged for more even as he sobbed, a ruined doll in their hands.
And still, they gave it.
Hours blurred. They had him on the couch against the wall, bent over the polished dining table. Each time, the others touched, kissed, or restrained him, making sure he never forgot he belonged to all of them.
When his body finally gave out, when he collapsed boneless into Levi's arms, they didn't let him feel discarded. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. A glass of water pressed to his lips. Fingers stroked through sweat-damp hair.
"You're safe now," Mark murmured.
"You did so well," Calum added, kissing his temple.
"Our beautiful baby," Julian whispered, softer than anyone expected.
Alex whimpered, curling into Levi's chest clinging like a child. For once, the world didn't demand perfection. For once, he didn't need to fake strength.
He was theirs-wrecked, cherished, adored.
And that was the role he was born to play.