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i want it all (inside of you)

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“You have to tell me everything,” Jaemin points at Donghyuck with the plastic straw of his drink, pink droplets of sugar dripping down onto the smooth, yellow surface of the table. “And when I say everything, I mean everything. I’m sure Mark is super cute in real life.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at that, staring at Jaemin over the rim of his own smoothie. “Cute? The Mark Lee?”

“You’re the one who’s obsessed with the guy and you don’t think he’s cute?” Jaemin sticks one end of the straw into his cup and the other into his mouth, looking at Donghyuck with crooked brows as he sucks around the plastic.

First of all, Donghyuck isn’t obsessed with Mark Lee, he just thinks he’s a great artist. And secondly, after all the fancams he’s watched of Mark—leather pants and unbuttoned plaid shirts and hands feeling up his own body on stage—he’s almost 99% sure he’s everything but cute.

He could be cute, Donghyuck thinks sometimes, when Mark smiles at the crowd with hollow cheeks after a successful performance. But those smiles end up curling into a smirk, and his neck is always glistening with pearls of sweat, his black hair pulled back and away from his forehead. All the possible cuteness melts away into something simmering hot.

“Have you ever seen a SuperM interview in your life?” Jaemin asks around the straw with slurred words. He opens his eyes exaggeratedly when Donghyuck shakes his head. “You’re such a bad fan, babe. But that boy, let me tell you, seems like a total softie.”

“It's not like I'm gonna have the possibility to find out,” Donghyuck points out, shaking his plastic glass as he waits for the ice to melt a little. “I doubt I'll get the chance to get close to him.”

“Makeup can be a bonding experience, though,” Jaemin raises his eyebrows at him, his fingers letting go of his smoothie to land on the back of Donghyuck's hand, cold and sticky.

“Oh yeah?” Donghyuck rolls his eyes at him. “Like that time you tried to kiss me and I ended up poking you in the eye with a brush?”

“And now we're best friends!” Jamin smiles at him widely, the straw caught between his perfectly white teeth, fingers running back and forth over Donghyuck's wrist.

But Donghyuck doesn't want to become Mark Lee's best friend, he only wants to go down on his knees for him.




When Donghyuck sees Mark in real life for the first time, he’s got his hair dyed a soft shade of pink, like cotton candy framing his sharp face.

It’s day one of the tour, they are all cramped backstage, in the dressing room. Donghyuck doesn’t know what he was expecting, maybe a better organization on the company’s end. But there are band members running around half naked and with their makeup half done, crew members chasing after them around the room in a desperate attempt to get them ready in the 45 minutes they have left before the show starts.

Amidst all this chaos, Donghyuck can’t stop staring at Mark.

It looks wrong, that gentle edge to Mark, strands curling lightly on top of his head, softening up the lines of his face in a way that doesn't suit him. It's confusing and almost exasperating, the way Mark stands in the middle of the changing room half dressed, his toned arms on display for everyone to see, leather pants hugging his thick thighs nicely, and that pink mop on top of it all.

“You should ask if he wants a picture,” Kai says, leaning against Mark as if he’s telling him a secret, but loud enough for the entire changing room to hear. He’s looking at Donghyuck with a smirk on his lips. When Mark follows his line of vision, he gets incredibly flustered, red to the tip of his nose, still bare of makeup.

Instead of looking away in embarrassment as he supposes Kai is expecting him to, Donghyuck squares his shoulders, lifting an eyebrow as he looks Mark up and down pointedly, unashamed.

“I would appreciate one, actually,” he says with a tilt of his head, his eyes lingering on Mark’s thighs before looking up at his face again.

Kai cackles out loud, his deep laughter bouncing on the walls of the crowded room. Donghyuck doesn’t look away, even if his palms are getting a little sweaty around the grip he has on his new eyeshadow palette. The corner of his mouth curls upwards as he waits for any kind of reaction from Mark.

Mark is looking between Kai and Donghyuck as if he’s a fish out of the water, his round eyes wide open and his pink mouth agape. And god, Donghyuck wants to smear some red tinted lip balm on those soft looking lips, only to lick it off with his tongue later.

“I just… I didn’t...” Mark starts, coughing a little, scratching the back of his neck when Kai elbows him in the ribs. “I didn’t know you were a fan,” he says, his eyes dropping to the floor, as if Donghyuck’s gaze on him is what’s causing him to trip over his words. “I can sign something for you later if you want me to?”

Donghyuck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, both of his eyebrows crooked upwards as he keeps looking at Mark, at the blush that seems to smudge down his neck, getting lost under the thin fabric of the white undershirt he’s currently wearing.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he nods, his gaze lingering on Mark’s bare arms before he walks away to work on Lucas’ makeup.

He doesn’t get the chance to do Mark’s makeup that first day, and Mark almost has him for a second. He almost forces Donghyuck to give in and admit to Jaemin that he’s right, that Mark is a total softie. Pretty damn cute.

That is, until SuperM go up on stage and Donghyuck watches from the sidelines, hidden behind the black curtains backstage.

The stylist should really get a raise for putting Mark in those leather pants that mold around his legs so nicely, accentuating the swell of his ass and the curve of his thighs. As he watches Mark dancing to dizzying beats, getting sweatier and sweatier with each song, Donghyuck can’t help thinking how good it’d be to rut between those legs, to feel the muscles on Mark’s thighs shaking and contracting underneath his fingertips.

It’s almost sinful, Mark’s appearance between sets, coming into the dressing room with his cheeks all flushed red and his eyes wide open, strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he chugs down gulps of water, his adam’s apple bobbing behind the thin glistening skin of his throat. It’s almost infuriating, the way he carries himself around the changing room nonchalantly, stripping off damp layers of clothing, revealing miles and miles of pale skin dotted with moles for a few seconds before he’s throwing a fresh shirt over his head.

He’s smirking throughout the entire show, on and off stage. It’s a small thing, this little curl to his lips, hollow cheeks and raised eyebrows as he looks at the crowd and the staff with his head tilted down. It almost seems innocent, as if he’s unaware of the effect he has on people. But Donghyuck doesn’t want to fall for it. Someone who looks like that must know what they are doing.

So, Donghyuck stays behind after the first concert of the tour. He waits, leaning on the wall outside of the dressing room, scrolling through his phone aimlessly as he keeps sneaking glances to the door, so he won’t miss Mark once he steps outside.

And when he does walk out, Mark doesn’t look any less attractive than during the concert—round glasses, a black loose tank top showing off his collarbones, a white cap backwards over his wet pink hair.

“So,” Donghyuck says, catching his attention before Mark can sneak out and into the tour bus that will take him to their hotel. “Where’s my autograph?”

Mark halts a step away from him, his fingers coming up to wrap around the strap of the sports bag that’s hanging from his left shoulder. He stares at Donghyuck over the rim of his glasses, with his mouth half open and his head tilted down.

“Oh,” he says uselessly, looking over his shoulder towards the door before he’s focusing his big eyes back on Donghyuck. “I didn’t—I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were serious? So I don’t have, like, anything to offer. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen or something?”

Donghyuck tucks his hand into the pocket of his jacket to fish out the pen and paper he put there in advance. He smiles lazily as he moves closer to Mark, so close that the tips of their shoes are almost touching.

“You know, I’ll forgive you for forgetting if you write down your phone number,” he says as he offers the paper to Mark, blinking up at him slowly.

Mark doesn’t even reply, he takes the pen and paper with shaky fingers and scrawls down his number, using the back of his other hand as support. He keeps biting his lip, his eyes focused on the paper, the tip of the pen sinking into the surface and digging into his skin.

He’s blushing when he offers the note back. He blushes so easily, Donghyuck thinks, taking in the redness on the tip of Mark’s ears. He wants to reach out and tug at the lobe, see what kind of reaction he can get out of that, what kind of noises.

“There,” Mark mumbles, all embarrassed and quiet. “Text me or… Whatever. Yeah. See you around?” and then he’s sidestepping Donghyuck and walking down the hall without giving him a chance to reply, one of his hands rubbing at the blush on the back of his neck.

When Donghyuck arrives at his hotel room, the first thing he does is flop down on his fancy bed and dial Jaemin’s number.

“I think you might be right,” he says into the phone as soon as Jaemin picks up. “Mark Lee seems a total softie. But we’ll see how long that lasts.”




Mark Lee may be driving Donghyuck crazy.

He doesn’t know how to read him, and Donghyuck has always been good at reading people, at seeing their intentions from a mile away. He still remembers the first time he met Jaemin, he figured out that he wanted in his pants 5 minutes after their first greeting, even though Jaemin can be the most subtle flirt Donghyuck has ever met when he’s serious about it.

But Mark, with his unintentional smirks, his big round eyes that shine with innocence, the blush that spreads all over his neck when Donghyuck gets a bit closer to him than necessary. Mark, who stammers through every conversation they have in person, his eyes closed tight whenever Donghyuck is working on his makeup, but falling to his lips unabashedly the few times he opens them. Mark, who replies to every single one of Donghyuck’s texts as soon as he gets them, throwing flirty line after flirty line, joking about showing up in Donghyuck’s hotel room when he least expects it, but never following through with it.

Donghyuck wants him so bad, he’s losing his mind. But he has no clue what Mark truly wants, and that’s driving him up the wall. He can’t figure out if Mark is genuinely shy, if he’s just too nice to decline Donghyuck’s advances on him, or if this is his way of teasing. Maybe he’s trying to pull and pull and pull at Donghyuck’s patience until he breaks down and straight up asks Mark to fuck him up against the white rough wall of the changing room.

Because Donghyuck can’t stop thinking about it—Mark pushing him against the textured wall after a show, the roughness of it scratching his naked back as Mark pounds into him, Donghyuck’s thigh wrapped around his waist, urging him to go faster in case someone walks in on them.

And he’s starting to think he’ll beg for it if that’s what he has to do to get Mark to ruin him, as embarrassing as it sounds.

“This shade looks good on you,” Donghyuck whispers in the thin space between them.

He’s sitting right in front of Mark, 30 minutes before a show, leaning in more than is probably acceptable to apply a soft shade of pink on his lips. He’s got Mark’s jaw cradled in his other hand, the skin a lot softer than he was expecting, smooth under Donghyuck’s pads from having been shaved recently.

Mark keeps his eyes screwed shut, but he’s leaning in just as much as Donghyuck is, his mouth parted to make it easier for him to work.

Donghyuck doesn’t know what makes him lose his filter. It may be the dip under Mark’s lower lip, like a perfect print of Donghyuck’s thumb, fitting perfectly when he presses down against it. Or maybe it is the push and pull they’ve been having for a week now, want and lust twisting in Donghyuck’s gut almost painfully, making him go dry mouthed every time they are this close.

“Bet it tastes good on you, too,” he says, so softly that no one else can hear.

Mark’s reaction is instant. His eyes snap open, as round and wide as they always are when Donghyuck catches him staring. He goes a little tense under Donghyuck’s touch, his shoulders setting into a straight line as he swallows thickly. But he doesn’t pull away, he stays perfectly still, his eyes drifting down to Donghyuck’s mouth.

And Donghyuck knows this isn’t the place nor the moment, the noise of the rest of the staff like a soft soundtrack in the background. Though the thrumming underneath his skin whenever he’s touching Mark like this might prompt him to do something reckless.

But Mark speaks before Donghyuck has the chance to move. “I think,” he says, with a cough, eyes sliding down to his knees. “I think I might not be what you’re looking for, Donghyuck.”

“And what am I looking for, exactly?” Donghyuck drops his hand from Mark’s jaw. It falls limp onto his lap as he looks at him intently.

“I mean. I guess that you—You want to sleep with me?” Mark says, stammering a little, his eyes flicking up to Donghyuck’s face for less than a second before they are jumping elsewhere again.

He’s blushing. He’s always blushing. It doesn’t show through the foundation Donghyuck applied on him earlier, but the tips of his ears go incredibly red. Donghyuck has to make a tremendous effort to stop himself from reaching out and feel the warmth of the skin directly against his palm.

“Are you straight?” he asks directly. It comes out in an unimpressed tone, his face setting into a bored expression. Because a straight dude would never check Donghyuck out the way Mark does when he thinks no one is watching, of that much he is sure.

But Mark shakes his head rapidly.

“God, no. That’s not what I meant at all,” he flops down against the backrest of his chair, running a careful hand through his styled hair, pink strands curling delicately around his fingers. Again, Donghyuck finds himself wondering if Mark is even aware of the effect he has on people.

“What do you mean, then?” he asks, frowning.

Mark doesn’t reply, though. He runs his eyes along the crowded room before he places them back on Donghyuck, his face pinched in a troubled expression.

“Alright, we’ll talk about this later,” Donghyuck slides his hand on top of one of Mark’s thighs. He gives him an experimental squeeze that’s meant to be comforting, but Mark jerks under the touch, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he stares down at Donghyuck’s hand on him. “Because if you tell me you don’t like me, I’m not buying it.”




Instead of talking, Mark pushes Donghyuck roughly against the wall as soon as the dressing room is empty.

He’s flushed red and smelling of sweat after his performance, still high on the confidence the stage gives him. Donghyuck can see it in the mischievous curl of his lips, in the tilt of his head as he runs his eyes up and down Donghyuck’s body before he’s surging forward, crashing their mouths together.

And, for a few moments, it’s exactly what Donghyuck’s been dreaming of even before they met in person. It’s dirty and fast and wet, with the textured surface of the wall scraping his back with how hard Mark is pinning him against it.

Mark kisses open mouthed and frantic, making his way into Donghyuck’s mouth with agile sweeps of his tongue and rough bites on his lower lip. And this Mark—pressed hard against Donghyuck, fingers digging into the flesh of his waist, skin slippery with sweat and lips tasting of the beer he chugged down when they finished their set—it matches perfectly with the Mark Donghyuck made up in his head all these months ago.

Donghyuck curls his hands in the wet strands of Mark’s dyed hair, hard enough to drag a moan out of his throat. He sneaks his fingers underneath Mark’s tank top, nails scratching up the toned muscles of his back. He shoves a leg between Mark’s, pushing his thighs open so that he can press against the outline of his dick, already swollen in the confines of those tight leather pants that give Donghyuck nightmares. But then Mark is pulling away hastily, snapping his legs closed as soon as Donghyuck rubs some friction where he clearly wants it most.

“What?” Donghyuck croaks out, his voice already raspy due to the loss of breath. “Did I do something wrong?”

Mark is holding tightly onto Donghyuck’s forearms, his nails almost piercing his skin, as if he’s desperate to keep him away from his body. He’s hiding away in his shell again, right before Donghyuck’s eyes, his shoulders tensing up like the strings of a puppet as his gaze jumps everywhere to avoid focusing on Donghyuck’s face.

“It’s just. I’m not… I’ve never…” he stammers, trips, and never finds the right words.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, as softly as he can manage when he sounds half gone already, his nerve endings still lit up and screaming for Mark’s warmth. “It’s alright if you don’t wanna do anything. I’m not gonna be mad if you don’t like me like that.”

Mark stays silent, nibbling on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to stop what he truly wants to say from coming out. Donghyuck can’t help it when his eyes fall to Mark’s mouth, can’t stop the goosebumps from blooming over his skin when he sees how bright they are, kiss-swollen.

“It’s not that,” Mark mumbles eventually, his hands loosening their grip on Donghyuck’s arms. He doesn’t let go, though. “I do. I mean, I do want you. But I don’t know how to…”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?” Donghyuck asks, straight to the point. And the way Mark’s cheeks go cherry red is all he needs as an answer. “How come? Because I’m sure many people are interested.”

There’s a frown between Mark’s brows when he looks at Donghyuck, his head still tilted down innocently, his lips pursed into something so similar to a pout. The fact seeps through Donghyuck’s body hotly, setting his insides ablaze. It makes no sense in his head, Mark’s confident stage persona crashing messily with this flustered version of him—inexperienced and unbelievably shy. But it only sharpens Donghyuck’s lust even more, he wants to pierce through Mark’s innocence and paint it dirty.

“I’m the one who’s never been interested,” Mark admits.

“Oh,” Donghyuck is about to jump away and apologize, even though it’s not like he’s got anywhere to go, trapped between the wall and Mark’s sweaty body. “I didn’t mean to, like, rush you into anything or make you uncomfortable,” he rambles, his cheeks warm with something other than lust for the first time since they’ve met.

But Mark tightens his grip on Donghyuck’s arms again to keep him in place.

“No. I said I’m definitely, like, very interested now,” he rushes out, his words stepping over each other. He’s looking down again, gaze fixed on his hands around Donghyuck’s skin, on the difference between their skin tones. “I’ve kissed people,” Donghyuck bites his tongue to stop himself from interrupting, because he can tell that much, the electric aftertaste of Mark’s tongue still thick in his mouth. “But I guess I’ve never… Wanted anyone like that? Not enough to go further, at least.”

“You’ve never wanted to fuck anyone?” Donghyuck asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, and he enjoys the reaction his direct questions coax out of Mark: big round eyes and parted lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to get rid of the knot in his throat.

Mark doesn’t even reply, but he shakes his head fast, his hands dropping off of Donghyck’s arms completely. But he doesn’t pull away, not yet. Instead, he leans closer, one foot slotted between Donghyuck’s.

“You’ve never wanted to be fucked?” Donghyuck whispers, low in the space between them. It’s such a small gap, something he could close fast by tilting his chin up. But he stays put. He waits for an answer as his arm latches onto Mark, his hand sliding down the swell of his ass, squeezing softly.

Mark jumps a little, yelps with his mouth half open. When he finally looks up at Donghyuck, his pupils are blown wide, eyes almost completely black. Donghyuck runs his tongue over his lower lip and Mark’s gaze follows the action.

“Not until now.”

And that’s all Donghyuck needs to throw caution out the window and pull Mark in to kiss a smile onto his swollen lips. But there’s a loud knock on the changing room door before he’s got the time to coax Mark’s mouth open.

“Mark! Out right now or we’re leaving without you!” someone calls from the other side of the door.

They spring apart as if they’ve been electrocuted. And maybe they have, Donghyuck thinks as he takes in Mark’s appearance, strands of his soft pink hair pointing out in different directions.

When Mark rushes out the door he doesn’t spare him a glance. But if you were to ask him, Donghyuck wouldn’t complain. The sight of that ass in those tight leather pants is consolation enough.




“A virgin!” Jaemin squeals into the phone when Donghyuck calls him once he’s settled in his new hotel room. The tour has just started and he’s already lost count of the number of times he’s changed beds. They all feel the same and nothing like home.

“Dude, calm down,” he tells Jaemin, but he’s unable to keep the laughter out of his tone.

“I knew he was a softie, but this? Oh my god, Hyuck,” Jaemin squeals again, so loud that Donghyuck has to move the phone away from his ear. “What are you gonna do? What if you fuck him and he gets attached or something?”

Donghyuck would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about that before. His head’s been spinning nonstop all the way to the hotel, circling between what ifs and how comes and whys. Why is Mark giving in now? How come Donghyuck of all people is the one to make him feel strong attraction for the first time? What if Mark gets attached? But he will not allow his worried mind to prevent him from having fun during this tour.

So he just smiles lazily and says, “I’m just gonna do everything he allows me to.”




Whatever Donghyuck imagined sleeping with Mark Lee would be like, it definitely wasn’t this.

He’s dreamt about it more times than he’s comfortable admitting. He has woken up lying on his bed face down, his hips rubbing down against the mattress relentlessly, the mental image of Mark thrusting into him fresh and stinging in his head.

He’s pictured it after Mark’s quiet confession, too. He has lied awake at night in a cold, fancy hotel room, wondering if Mark likes to be touched sweetly, if he’d ask Donghyuck to go gentle on him, open him up slowly and carefully with lubed up fingers.

But this —the darkness of a parking lot, the dizzying smell of tyre and gasoline blurring his mind, the slippery surface of a bus against his back, cold and hard and screeching when he tries to dig his nails into it unsuccessfully as Mark takes him apart with his mouth only—this has never been part of the picture.

It didn't look threatening at all, the small smile Mark sent his way when he refused to get in the van with the other members. He had looked at Donghyuck with that innocent tilt of his head, his pink hair framing his face in a way that doesn't look unnatural anymore, that looks soft and gentle and pretty. And how could Donghyuck have said no when Mark asked him to stay behind with him and have dinner out together?

But they never made it out of the garage, Mark dragging him by the wrist with insistent fingers as soon as the van was out of sight.

He didn't even kiss Donghyuck before he was dropping on his knees, shaking hands trying to undo the black belt around Donghyuck’s waist.

“I've wanted this since the first time I saw you,” he had mumbled, chin tilted up to look at Donghyuck with those puppy eyes, round and twinkling and eager.

Donghyuck had a million reasons to stop this from happening (“do you even know what you're doing?” and “what if someone sees us?” and “don't you want to move slower?”), but all his thoughts melted in his head like warm honey when Mark started licking at the tip of his half hard cock, unprompted and shy.

That's how he ended up here, his fingertips white against the cold metal wall of a bus to stop himself from tangling his hands in Mark’s hair and force his dick further deep into his mouth.

Mark is shy even like this, kneeling down for Donghyuck all of his own volition. He keeps his eyes closed and his hands on his thighs as he laps experimentally around the head of Donghyuck’s dick, circling his tongue in light kitten licks before he decides he likes the taste. Donghyuck’s knees buckle when Mark finally wraps his lips around the head and sucks, his tongue pressed flat against the slit.

This isn't Donghyuck’s first time getting a blowjob by any means, and it is far from being the best. But there’s something intense about Mark slowly gaining confidence and pushing himself on Donghyuck’s cock, hollowing his cheeks by instinct to create the perfect friction.

Donghyuck moans out loud when Mark’s hands fly to his hips to keep him in place, a thank you of sorts that rebounds across the empty parking lot, because Donghyuck can really use the help to remain still. He thinks he might die like this, when Mark keeps going and sucking and taking until Donghyuck’s dick hits the back of his throat. He thinks he might forget how to breathe.

But then Mark pulls away coughing, almost gagging. And Donghyuck feels sick for loving the sight of it—Mark doubled over as he spits on the dark asphalt, his chest heaving as he tries to get his breathing under control, nails sinking into Donghyuck's hips so harshly that they might leave prints behind.

“You okay?” Donghyuck asks in a broken whisper, one of his hands coming up to cradle Mark's chin between his fingers, to force him to look up at him.

Donghyuck swears he could come from the sight in front of him: Mark Lee with tears in the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed cherry red, a mix of spit and precum gathering on the corners of his crimson lips. All of it topped by his pink hair, soft looking and asking to be tugged.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” Mark says, with gentle eyes and no warning.

It’s messing with Donghyuck’s head, the naivety of his voice opposed to the intensity of the situation. Mark is staring up at him with this eagerness that Donghyuck has never seen on him before, half gone and almost high on Donghyuck’s taste only. And he looks so incredibly pure, even with Donghyuck’s dick hard and wet in front of him, grazing Mark’s cheek when he tilts his head to the side, his eyebrows lowering as if he’s begging.

“You’ve never done this before, though,” Donghyuck says, moving his hand from Mark’s chin to his hair, soft because of the after-show shower, but already a bit damp with sweat. He waits a beat for Mark to nod in confirmation, still a little light-headed at the request coming from someone inexperienced. “I could hurt you. It’s not as easy and fun as it might seem.”

“I don’t care,” Mark shrugs, thumbs digging in the dips of Donghyuck’s hips as he lowers his head again, until the tip of Donghyuck’s dick is resting on his lower lip. “Wanna do this for you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even have the time to argue, because Mark is going down on him again as soon as the words are out of his mouth. His lips spread over Donghyuck’s cock, the pink skin stretching as he takes more and more of him, wide eyes still looking up, still shining with excitement, with the need to please. And Donghyuck has never been strong, so he closes his fist on Mark’s hair, soft strands of pink slipping between his fingers as he pushes his hips forward.

It’s maddening, the slurping sounds Mark does around him as Donghyuck thrusts and thrusts and thrusts, watching himself disappear again and again in Mark’s welcoming mouth, wet and hot and slippery. There’s definitely too much spit, too much teeth, Mark’s jaw tense with inexperience and nerves. But it’s so good. Donghyuck keeps hitting the back of Mark’s throat, not as hard as he would like to, but hard enough to feel it contracting in a useless attempt at swallowing.

He’s moving as slow as he can, twisting his fingers in Mark’s hair so hard that they are going white, his thighs shaking a little at the tremendous effort he’s making to not close his eyes and get lost in the feeling. He doesn’t want to give in and lose control, doesn’t want to thrust in fast and violent no matter how much his body is screaming at him to go for it, belly tense with anticipation and the need to come. But the friction is not enough, not yet.

Mark starts coughing again at a particularly hard thrust. Donghyuck’s dick slips out of his mouth with a pop, hitting the side of Mark’s face as he looks down, gagging on nothing.

“Hey,” Donghyuck eases up his grip on Mark’s hair, thumbs at his scalp gently. “We can stop.”

But Mark shakes his head repeatedly, attaching himself around Donghyuck one more time as soon as he stops retching. He’s still gripping Donghyuck’s hips tightly, his eyes closed now, a few tears running down his cheeks as he pushes him further into his mouth, his jaw going slack to take him deeper than he’s ever gotten before.

Donghyuck can’t hold back anymore, his eyes slide shut and he tightens his fingers on Mark’s hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he starts thrusting again, harder and faster than before.

Mark doesn’t do anything to stop him. He stays perfectly still under Donghyuck’s hand, his mouth wide open for him to use, his throat contracting at each hit, but he doesn’t pull away again. And it’s too much, the way he keeps taking, taking, taking, so pliantly and obedient all for Donghyuck. Not a single complaint comes off his lips as Donghyuck twitches inside of his mouth, his belly tensing up incredibly tight as he spills into the wet heat of Mark’s mouth.

Only then Donghyuck opens his eyes again, thighs shaking as his orgasm breaks through him, muffled moans sneaking past his bitten lips as he desperately tries to keep quiet. He looks down in time to catch Mark trying to swallow, but failing. He pulls away, coughing again, breathless and heaving. Some of Donghyuck’s come lands on his cheek and hair, he flinches when it hits him straight in the face, looking down at the asphalt as his hands drop from Donghyuck’s hips and onto his own thighs.

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks between his ragged pants, his hand running through Mark’s damp hair softly now, fingers walking down his nape to try to get him to look at him.

Mark nods fast, but he doesn’t look up straight away, as if he’s suddenly embarrassed after what they’ve just done. He curls his fingers tentatively into Donghyuck’s pants and underwear and pulls them up at the same time he stands, his legs somehow even shakier than Donghyuck’s, as if he’s the one who has just come.

“Hey,” Donghyuck speaks again, softly between them. The hand he has tangled in Mark’s hair slides down the side of his face until he’s cradling his chin, his thumb sweeping clean the dripping spit and cum. He tries to push Mark’s head up to look him in the eye, but Mark keeps shying away, face dropped to the ground. “You okay?” Donghyuck insists.

Mark nods, moving closer so he can rest his forehead on Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“My knees hurt,” he mumbles. And god, Donghyuck swears he could get hard again just by the sound of Mark’s voice, words coming out of his spent throat all ragged and broken.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck giggles against his hair. “But you were so good.”

Mark makes a little noise in the crook of Donghyuck’s neck, something similar to a purr, and it goes straight to Donghyuck’s groin again. He places his hands on top of Mark’s ears, finally getting to feel the feverish heat directly against his skin. He pushes him away from his neck, so he can look him in the eye properly.

“Do you like it?” He asks gently, trying to catch Mark’s gaze, but he keeps staring at the floor. Donghyuck brings a hand up to Mark’s hair again, trying to clean off the remains of cum with his fingers. He leans in afterwards, licking at the white stain on Mark’s cheek, the skin almost burning with warmth against his tongue. “You like it when I praise you?” he says with a hum, sweet words pressed to Mark’s flushed face, lips dragging over that one mole close to his mouth. “Because that was amazing for a first time. Felt so good, I came so hard.”

Mark is still shaking a little, they are so close together that Donghyuck can feel it on his ribs. But he pushes through his shyness and embarrassment and tilts his head up until his mouth slots perfectly against Donghyuck’s. He opens up instantly, so willing to give and give and give. Donghyuck can taste himself in Mark’s mouth, thick and salty, and he licks until there are no traces of himself left to clean.

“I don’t even know what I like yet,” Mark confesses quietly against his lips once he pulls away. He looks so soft right now, his eyes rimmed red from crying, swollen lips, puffed cheeks and messy hair. There’s nothing Donghyuck wants more right now than to help him figure out exactly what makes him feel good and give it to him over and over. “But I like the way you taste.”

The words settle warm underneath Donghyuck’s skin, he can feel them burning on his cheeks, on the back of his neck, low in his belly. He has to bite down on his lower lip to stop an embarrassing moan from crawling out of his throat. He distracts himself from the intensity of it all by touching Mark, he curls an arm around his waist and sneaks his other hand inside of his pants.

“You want me to return the favour?” he asks with a smirk, trying to look like he’s got it all under control, but his voice wavers at the end embarrassingly.

Mark chuckles, then. He drops his forehead back on Donghyuck’s shoulder, one of his hands curling around Donghyuck’s wrist to stop him from going further. Donghyuck takes the message and stays completely still, his hand trapped between Mark’s pants and underwear, the cotton cloth of his boxers damp against his palm. He doesn’t even have to press harder to feel Mark’s dick, already soft beneath the fabric.

“Take me to dinner?” Mark suggests instead. He’s peeking up at Donghyuck shyly between his eyelashes, cheeks a deeper red than ever before, embarrassment painted all over his skin.

Donghyuck takes his hand out of Mark’s pants and kisses a smile to both of his eyelids. He’s so damn cute.




“You took him to dinner?” Jaemin squeals into his ear, high-pitched and excited for all the wrong reasons.

“Dude, calm down. I’m gonna lose an ear because of you one of these days,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes at the white ceiling of his hotel room.

“But you took him to dinner!” Jaemin repeats, even louder this time, his words jarring and robotic through the speaker of the phone.

“Don’t say it like that, you make it sound fancy,” Donghyuck turns around in bed, until he can curl into himself and sink his face into the fluffy pillow. “McDonald’s after a blowjob is everything but fancy.”

The memories come rushing back to him instantly when he closes his eyes—the mortified expression on Mark’s face when he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror of the parking lot, the way his eyes kept jumping all around McDonald’s and never setting on Donghyuck, the tone of his voice, hoarse for the rest of the night.

Still,” Jaemin says pointedly. “I thought you only wanted to fuck him, not woo him.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not trying to woo anyone,” Donghyuck huffs, bringing the phone up to his face so Jaemin can hear him better, his voice muffled against the pillow. “We don’t even know each other. The dude skipped dinner to blow me, it was the least I could do.”

Jaemin giggles on the other end of the line, “See? I told you he was cute as fuck.”

And yeah, Donghyuck thinks, damn right he is.




No matter how badly Donghyuck wants Mark, how much he wants to take things further, slow and gentle and patient, they never really have the time for it. So far, it’s only been teasing in the dressing room and stolen kisses in the bathroom and that one time they used the elevator together and Mark threatened to stop it just to have enough time to jerk Donghyuck off, but didn't follow through with it.

It’s been more than a week since whatever they are doing started, and Donghyuck is yet to find out how Mark’s skin feels under his fingertips, if he tastes hot and heavy and bitter, or just as sweet as he looks. He’s so eager to figure out everything Mark likes, he can’t wait to trip over all the wrong places and try again until he maps down Mark’s favorite spots. He’s greedy like that, wants to commit every sensitive corner of Mark’s body to memory, so he can aim for the right places from the start and reduce him to a whining mess beneath him. But rehearsals and concerts and shared hotel rooms with other people don’t seem to be on their side.

Still, Mark manages to steal minutes to his packed schedule and share them with Donghyuck, even if it’s always rushed and clumsy and desperate.

There’s something just as hot and intense in this: Mark sprawled on the back seat of the van, his thick thighs curled tightly around Donghyuck, his heels digging into his lower back so their hips can work together, rubbing against each other frantically, trying to win a lost race with the clock, minutes ticking by threateningly, the next concert less than an hour away.

Donghyuck could pull away and get them both out of their clothes. He could open Mark up with spit slicked fingers and fuck him bare right there, hidden only by the tinted glass of the windows. And the worst part is that he has a feeling Mark would let him.

But this is good, too. Donghyuck knows he can come like this, with the thrilling rush the possibility of being caught gives him as he stares into Mark’s eyes. There’s this edge to his gaze, something almost maddening that tells Donghyuck this kind of friction isn’t enough, the heels of his feet digging into Donghyuck’s back harder and harder in a desperate attempt to feel him even closer.

Mark looks so pretty like this, with his mouth hanging open in a silent moan, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tries to reach his climax but not being able to get there quite yet. He’s got his fingers curled into Donghyuck’s sleeves, and he’s pulling at the fabric so hard that it keeps making ugly stretching noises. It all makes Donghyuck wonder how Mark would look if he ever got the chance to edge him. If their schedules gave them a break and he could spend an entire day on Mark’s body, would Mark be able to take it? Would he be able to last? Would he cry?

It’s always dizzying, the neediness and eagerness of Mark’s actions mixed up with his desire to please. Donghyuck is almost sure that Mark would let him get away with anything as long as he asked nicely. Just the thought of it causes him to shudder, his hips stuttering against Mark’s as the heat builds and builds in the back of his thighs, up his stomach, spreading everywhere like an explosion.

He doesn’t stop as he shakes through his orgasm, his underwear getting uncomfortably wet and sticky. Mark is still on edge, looking up at Donghyuck with glistening eyes that threaten to spill tears, his lower lip shining red between his teeth, fingers running up Donghyuck’s arms to dig into his shoulders. He cries so easily when he’s turned on, Donghyuck had always imagined it would be the other way around, pictured himself reduced to a flushed whining mess underneath the confident Mark Lee.

He decides to try his luck. He rests all of his weight on his right elbow, lifts his left hand off the seat to spread his fingers around Mark’s neck instead, softly. Donghyuck can feel his pulse hammering unsteadily behind his adam’s apple even though he’s barely applying pressure.

“Can I?” he whispers gently, his nose rubbing along Mark’s so sweetly that it is almost out of place.

Mark nods so fast, their foreheads almost knock together. A high pitched moan crawls out of his throat, vibrating underneath Donghyuck’s palm. Donghyuck smirks down at him, his hand tightening its grip on Mark’s neck.

The effect is instant. Mark’s hips buckle up into Donghyuck’s, his thrusts turning erratic as his eyes go incredibly wide, his mouth falling open as he gasps, trying to draw in air that never quite reaches his lungs.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Donghyuck murmurs, his hand moving up so his fingers are hooked right under the edge of Mark’s sharp jaw, pressing a bit harder.

But Mark never tells him to stop. He coughs dryly, the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes finally falling down his cheeks, dripping down his chin and wetting the back of Donghyuck’s hand. He’s moving almost violently, curling up against Donghyuck’s body, his dick so hard that Donghyuck can feel it twitching through the layers of clothing.

He comes right when Donghyuck lets go, his head lolling to the side, looking up with his eyes glossed over and dizzy, almost rolling to the back of his head as he shudders and jolts underneath Donghyuck’s body, his ragged breathing incredibly loud in the silence of the parking lot.

Donghyuck hates himself a little for loving the way Mark looks like this, completely disheveled and out of his mind, as vulnerable as he can be, gifting Donghyuck the chance to do whatever he wants to him. He’s so high on the power Mark willingly gives him that he almost gets hard again because of it.

“Was that good?” he asks, thumbing away the tear tracks on Mark’s cheeks.

Mark nods lazily, but he still looks gone, his sight unfocused and a drunk smile on his lips.

“‘m so dizzy,” he mumbles, words slurred and hoarse, like a low groan that sends a shudder through Donghyuck’s body. And then, he’s giggling, with red hollowed cheeks and a scrunched up nose. He turns his head, nuzzling into Donghyuck’s palm.

“Are you a cuddler?” Donghyuck crooks an eyebrow at him, curling his fingers around Mark’s chin to get him to focus on his face. “Didn’t think you could get even cuter.”

“You think ‘m cute?” Mark purrs, his brows curved in that innocent expression of his, almost sickeningly sweet with his soft pink hair framing his face, even if it’s sweaty and all over the place. “You’re cute,” he says, pushing himself up to press a kiss to Donghyuck’s nose.

And Donghyuck can't take it anymore, he is unable to bottle up the loud laugh that bubbles out of him like an overfilled glass, his forehead falling onto Mark’s chest, defeated.

“You’re so fucking gone, dude,” he mumbles, lips dragging over the sweaty fabric of Mark’s shirt. “And you gotta be up on stage in like half an hour. Fuck.”

But none of them make a move to disentangle from each other and get out of the van, too busy shaking through a fit of shared laughter.




“It was so bad, Jaemin,” Donghyuck says for the millionth time, his head dropping against the closed door. “I don’t think they know he was with me, but they definitely figured out what he had been up to when he came back into the dressing room. He was so fucking gone.”

“So you fuck that good, huh?” Jaemin teases, his words breaking into an almost hysterical giggle at the end.

“C’mon, shut up,” Donghyuck mumbles, his eyes focused on the tiles of the bathroom floor. He wishes he could raise his voice and scream at Jaemin to take it seriously, but the company forced him to share rooms with someone from the stylist team, and he can’t risk the word getting out, no matter how obvious Mark had been earlier. “The thing is, I didn’t even fuck him yet.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” Jaemin wails excitedly. “How do you expect me to shut up when you put it so easy …”

“I feel like I’ll go insane if I don’t talk to someone about it,” Donghyuck confesses. “The way the other members were looking at him… I think they know his experience is almost nonexistent. They were shocked? But practically laughing in his face, too.”

Jaemin laughs again, chirpy and loud and high. “I wish I could be there to see all this unfold.”

“You would have a blast here,” Donghyuck says, running his hand through his hair before he drops his forehead on his arm, folded across his knees. “You should’ve seen him, man. You would’ve never let me live it down. He was so obvious. Like, wrecked and giggly and…” pretty, he thinks to himself.

“I won’t let you live it down even if I’m across the world, babe,” Jaemin says, and Donghyuck can’t help the smile that settles on his lips at the familiar pet name. “You sure you aren’t a bit gone yourself, though?”

“What are you talking about? It happened hours ago. Also humping someone like a teenager ain’t much to me anymore,” he huffs, purposefully ignoring the fact that he was the first to come.

“That’s not what I meant, honey,” Jaemin replies, mocking but still incredibly sweet.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Donghyuck almost squeals, his voice bouncing off the tiled walls.

Jaemin giggles again, and Donghyuck hangs up on him.




from: mark

meet me in the bathroom

say u have to stretch ur legs or smth


That’s how Donghyuck ends up like this: trapped in the small bathroom of an airplane, god knows how many feet off the ground, his back pressed up against the door as Mark keeps mapping out his body over his clothes, eager hands moving dizzyingly fast, as if he doesn’t know where he wants to touch him first.

“You’re a menace, did you know that?” Donghyuck says, already breathless after being ambushed like this, caught off guard.

Mark doesn’t even reply to him, he brings his mouth down onto Donghyuck’s again, opening his way past his lips with clever flicks of his tongue. He’s such a good kisser, always licking at Donghyuck’s top lip before he’s circling their tongues together, sucking into Donghyuck’s skin, tugging at it with his teeth when he pulls away to breathe, as if he can’t stand the thought of losing contact.

“Are you even allowed to date?” Donghyuck pants once Mark moves his kisses down his neck, one of his hands palming between Donghyuck’s legs, hard and purposeful.

He doesn’t even realize the implications his words carry until Mark is pulling away, looking down at Donghyuck with a cocked eyebrow, his head tilted to the side in amusement, a shit-eating grin spreading over his already red-kissed lips.

Donghyuck feels the warmth running up his neck, probably painting the skin of his cheeks pink. He’s short of breath for entirely different reasons now, the palms of his hands growing sweaty where he’s gripping the fabric of Mark’s shirt. He’s never felt flustered like this around Mark before, he’s dangerously used to having the upper hand. Donghyuck swears he can feel his own heart hammering in his throat, behind his eyes, on his wrists.

“I’m allowed to fuck,” Mark says, still smiling down at him, widely and proudly and incredibly infuriating, his hand squeezing Donghyuck’s hardening dick.

Donghyuck thinks: fuck me already, then. But, instead, he swallows his words, lifts his chin up, and says:

“Hands off.”

Mark’s eyes grow wide, his hands flying off Donghyuck’s body in an instant, bare palms open and raised up to his chest, as if he’s surrendering. It’s incredibly satisfying, wiping away that cocky expression off of Mark’s face with only two words.

“You don’t want to—,” Mark starts to question, but Donghyuck rushes forward and shuts him up forcefully with his lips, teeth crashing together. And then, he’s digging his fingers into Mark’s hips and pushing until he’s got him pinned against the sink, the cockiness completely replaced by a mixture of curiosity and lust.

“You know… We’ve been messing around for like two weeks now,” he mumbles, words slurred against Mark’s hot skin. He glides his lips across Mark’s cheek until he reaches his ear, flicking his tongue over the lobe. Mark’s back curls, his chest pressing against Donghyuck’s for a second, but he keeps his arms limp by his sides, meekly. “And I haven’t touched you yet.”

Mark goes tense underneath Donghyuck’s hands, his muscles all pulled into straight lines, so still that he might’ve stopped breathing.

“Hey,” Donghyuck pulls away a little to peek at his face. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. It’s just—,” Mark shakes his head, frowning at himself. “You don’t have to, you know?”

Now it’s Donghyuck’s turn to tense up, pulling even further away so their bodies stop touching.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just that I’m good with this. Like, truly, I mean it,” Mark stumbles over his words, his eyes fixed on Donghyuck’s shirt, unable to hold his gaze. “I need to… Go slow? And we—We never have, like, the time for that. I don’t… I wanna make you feel good. Don’t want you to get bored.”

Mark is so incredibly red when he stops speaking. He snaps his mouth shut so hard that his teeth clank together in the quiet of the bathroom stall, the muscles in his jaw twitching to force himself from rambling any further.

Donghyuck comes closer again, nuzzling Mark’s forehead with his own as he giggles.

“You’re so infuriatingly cute,” he confesses, quiet against Mark’s lips. Mark frowns at him, his arms finally coming up only to hit Donghyuck in the chest. “I’m not gonna get bored with you, Mark. I wanted you even before I met you.”

Donghyuck looks at Mark pointedly, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he slides one hand down to squeeze at Mark’s thigh.

“Oh,” that’s all Mark says as an answer, his lips falling open in realization.

“Yeah, oh,” Donghyuck giggles again. “We don’t even have to go all the way. Not here, at least. But slow can be fun, too. Just…” He waits a beat, until Mark grasps the courage to finally meet his eyes. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

And Mark replies a lot faster than Donghyuck was expecting him to. His words are almost a whisper, but they don’t waver when he says, “Finger me.”

Donghyuck is more than eager to comply, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to fish the small packet of lube he’s been carrying around everywhere lately. Mark follows his movements wide-eyed, his gaze fixed on Donghyuck’s fingers as he puts down the package on the sink, next to Mark’s hip.

“What?” he laughs, tugging at Mark’s belt to get it undone. “Gotta be ready for you, don’t I?”

He slides Mark’s pants and underwear down with a hard pull, tapping at Mark’s thigh with two fingers so he will step out of them. As much as it bothers Donghyuck, they don’t really have the time to drag this out if they don’t want everyone on the plane to figure out why and where they disappeared off to. But he does take a few seconds to take Mark in for the first time.

He’s big, Donghyuck knew this much after being pressed to him a handful of times now, Mark’s dick hot and thick pulsating through layers of clothing. But seeing it like this—springing up all hard and angry red against his white shirt, already leaking a little even though they haven’t done anything yet—it’s a whole different story.

And Donghyuck wants, with such intensity that it’s almost scary. He wishes with all his might that they had enough time for him to go down on Mark and suck him off until his knees peeled off. But they don’t. So he curls his hand around the back of Mark’s thigh and pulls it up and around his waist.

“Shirt off if you don’t want to make a mess,” he says at the same time he reaches for the packet of lube. He gets it open and coats the fingers of his right hand as fast as he can, rubbing with his other hand to warm it up.

Mark does as he’s told, as always. He grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off over his head in one fluid move. Suddenly, there are miles and miles of pale skin bare and open for Donghyuck to take in, to memorize, to trace.

“Fuck, Mark,” he curses under his breath, drawing closer like a magnet, unable to stop himself.

Donghyuck has seen him shirtless before, impossible to avoid it after spending so many hours together in overcrowded dressing rooms. But during all those past times Mark wasn’t flushed pink to his belly, his chest heaving only for the thought of what Donghyuck is about to do to him, eyes pitch black in expectation.

He leans down, sticks out his tongue and presses it flat against one of Mark’s nipples. His left hand starts to rub up the tense, toned muscles of his abs, the other one up in the air to avoid wasting lube. Mark whines at the contact, something breathy and short and ragged, as if it’s been stolen away from him when he least expected it. He’s curling into Donghyuck again, his nipple going hard under Donghyuck’s mouth so fast, fingers coming up to dig prints into his shoulders.

“Goddammit,” Donghyuck whispers against his chest, trailing sloppy kisses up flushed skin until he’s speaking into the line of Mark’s throat. “The things I’d do to you if we had the time.”

Mark laughs high-pitched, sounding almost hysterical already. “Hurry up,” he says as he curls his fingers around Donghyuck’s wrist, bringing it down towards his ass.

Donghyuck follows his lead willingly, a smile pressed against the line of Mark’s throat, his heart hammering against his lips.

“But you gotta be quiet, hm?” he brushes his lips further up Mark’s neck, settling right behind his ear. “We don’t want the entire plane knowing what’s going on here.”

And then, he’s slotting his fingers between Mark’s cheeks, looking for his entrance by touch, the bathroom way too small to do this the way he’d like to.

Once Donghyuck finds it, his middle finger rubbing up the sensitive spot, Mark is already clenching on nothing, eager as ever as he mewls through gritted teeth. Donghyuck spends a few seconds just rubbing up the skin, getting it wet with lube until Mark relaxes a bit into the touch. Donghyuck wraps his other hand around the leg Mark has curled around his waist, grip firm on his thigh to prevent it from sliding down, making things easier.

“C’mon, Hyuck. We don’t have all day,” Mark groans, pushing his ass down into Donghyuck’s hand. Donghyuck distinctly registers that this is the first time Mark has called him that, voice all breathless and broken already. He opens his mouth on Mark’s neck, bites at his neck hard enough to make him yelp, but not enough to leave a print, even though there’s nothing he’d like more.

Then, he’s pushing his middle finger into Mark in one hard push, up to his knuckle. Mark cries with his mouth closed, turning his head to muffle his sounds in Donghyuck’s hair. He’s making such a big effort to keep quiet just because Donghyuck told him to, shaking through the sensations almost violently, tightening around Donghyuck’s finger nonstop.

“Fuck, Mark,” Donghyuck breathes out, his own dick twitching in his jeans, his hips stuttering towards Mark’s, but never finding the friction he desperately wants with his arm between them. “You’re so fucking tight. So warm. God, I can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbles into Mark’s neck, his finger still inside of him, waiting for him to adjust.

It’s almost excessive, the reaction he gets out of Mark when he whispers praises at him. He shakes at every single one, arching his back beautifully, desperate to feel Donghyuck closer, asking for more in every wordless way he can manage.

And Donghyuck is more than happy to give him more. He starts to move his finger inside of Mark, sliding out to his fingertip and in to his knuckle again, curling and flexing to rub at his walls properly, trying to find the spot that will make him lose his mind completely.

He takes it slow like this for a few moments, Mark easing up under the pressure, pushing down into Donghyuck’s finger, trying to speed up his rhythm, until he’s whispering into the crook of Donghyuck’s neck asking for more, please Hyuck, more.

The sounds Mark keeps making turn louder once Donghyuck slides a second finger in without warning. He’s biting down on Donghyuck’s shoulder now, wetting the fabric of his shirt, hopelessly trying to muffle his groans there. He sounds so beautiful like this, Donghyuck thinks, croaking out short, high-pitched moans that break at the end.

He full on screams once Donghyuck finally brushes over his prostate with his fingertips, throwing his head back against the small bathroom mirror, wailing so loud that Donghyuck has to rush forward and shush him with a kiss.

Mark is crying again, his thighs quivering with the intensity of what he’s feeling. The only reason why he’s still on his feet is Donghyuck’s body supporting him up, his hand firmly wrapped around Mark’s thigh, fingers digging into his flesh so tightly that he wonders, hopes it’ll bruise.

“Can I—,” Mark tries to speak into Donghyuck’s mouth, his train of thought broken by a particularly hard push. “Fuck, Hyuck. Can I touch myself?”

Donghyuck swears this guy is going to be the death of him, and the worst part is that it seems like he doesn’t even know the power he has on Donghyuck, the way he can easily ruin him with his innocent words like that. Donghyuck looks down between them at Mark’s neglected dick, twitching and sputtering precum over his tense abs. It’s almost maddening, the fact that Mark is willing to keep going like this—untouched even though it’s clear he desperately wants some friction—if Donghyuck asked him to.

“Shit, Mark,” he pushes forward again to kiss at Mark’s chapped lips, all angry red and almost peeled open from how hard he was biting into them, trying to keep quiet. “My jeans,” he mumbles, and Mark gets it, hands flying from Donghyuck’s back to his hips, trying to undo his pants with shaky fingers, failing every time Donghyuck rubs against his prostate merciless.

His fingers slide out of Mark as soon as his dick is free from the tight confines of his jeans, underwear hooked behind his balls. Mark grunts at the sensation of emptiness, actual tears wetting his cheeks the way it always happens when it gets too much for him. But he starts moaning again when Donghyuck moves even closer, wrapping his hand around the two of them at the same time, Mark’s dick larger and thicker than his, slick with precome and burning red.

“Help me out,” Donghyuck whispers, nudging Mark’s nose with his.

As always, Mark follows his words with no questions. He wraps trembling fingers around them, intertwined with Donghyuck’s.

It’s too much, the image of their dicks sliding in and out the tight circle of both their fingers, together and almost in sync, drops of precum gliding down the back of their hands. They come like that, embarrassingly fast, if you ask Donghyuck, kissing messily through their climax to avoid making too much noise.

“Shit,” Donghyuck looks down to the mess they just made, Mark’s chest painted in white sticky streaks, Donghyuck’s own shirt splattered with some drops of it.

“Should’ve taken your shirt off, huh?” Mark clicks his tongue, his clean hand running down Donghyuck’s chest as he pulls away a little, head falling backwards against the mirror.

“Shut up, smart mouth,” Donghyuck disentangles his body from Mark’s completely, tucking himself back into his jeans before grabbing a bunch of toilet paper. “I didn’t tell you to ask for permission to touch yourself,” he says as he busies himself cleaning Mark’s flushed chest. He keeps his eyes fixed on the dirty pale skin, a hot blush crawling up his neck once the words are out in the open.

“I know,” Mark hums. He spreads his legs wider, making more room for Donghyuck to clean him up, all exposed and vulnerable for him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “But I also know you like it. I’m inexperienced, not dumb.”

“What you are is a menace,” Donghyuck chokes out a silent laugh, slapping Mark’s tummy once it’s all clean. “Get dressed. You go out first, I need to figure out what to do with this,” he says, pointing at his shirt with his hands.

Mark gets ready with wobbly legs, still a little out of it, giggly and soft edged like he always is after he gets off. He dissolves into fits of laughter when his body brushes against Donghyuck’s in the tiny bathroom.

“God, you look like a mess,” Donghyuck says once Mark is ready to leave, his hand wrapped around the door handle, his clothes all rumpled, eyes and lips swollen.

“It’s fine,” Mark shrugs, twisting the knob open. “I’m allowed to date as long as it doesn’t go public,” he blurts out, words tripping over each other.

And then, he’s gone.




“I splashed water all over my shirt and said I had dropped a water bottle,” Donghyuck mumbles into the phone.

He’s curled into himself in the back seat of the van he shares with the rest of the styling staff, still wearing his dirty clothes. He speaks in hushed whispers, wary of the people surrounding him even though they all seem to be asleep.

“Did anyone buy that one?” Jaemin laughs, so loudly that Donghyuck is afraid his voice will resound in the quiet of the vehicle.

“Honestly, I don’t even care at this point,” he confesses. “And I don’t think Mark does either.”

“Aha,” Jaemin hums, his voice ringing like a nightmare. “Sounds pretty committed to me.”

“You’re insufferable.” Donghyuck hangs up on him.




It’s the largest concert of the tour tonight, and Donghyuck can read the tension of it written in every line of Mark’s body.

He’s staring hard at his reflection in the mirror as Donghyuck hovers around him, applying the last touch ups to his makeup. He hasn’t blinked in way too long, Donghyuck’s been paying attention, and he has this ugly wrinkle between his eyebrows, it’s been painted there throughout the entire day.

“Nervous?” Donghyuck leans over the backrest of the chair to whisper in Mark’s ear, locking eyes with him through the mirror.

“No. I mean, a little? Oh, I don’t know, dude,” Mark struggles, his frown getting harder and deeper.

There’s not much he can do to ease Mark’s nerves in the middle of a crowded dressing room, Donghyuck thinks, thumbing over Mark’s frown gently as if he’s applying an invisible layer of foundation. They only have a few minutes left to showtime, not enough to sneak out and give him a quick handjob in a locked bathroom stall, one dirty and fast that will leave him giddy and relaxed.

“You want me to help?” he asks anyway, sliding his fingers down the side of Mark’s face until the tips are resting on the jut of his collarbone.

The hidden message behind those words dawns on Mark visibly—his ears going crimson red as he dips his head down in a flustered tilt. But he nods, small and barely there, but enough for Donghyuck.

Mark’s heart is beating hard when Donghyuck curls his fingers around his throat, it pulses on the sides of his neck fast and unsteadily. There’s a thin layer of sweat over his heated skin, damp and sticky under Donghyuck’s palm, but he’s way too used to Mark like this—nervous and slightly out of it.

Donghyuck can’t go that far here, in plain sight, in front of Mark’s closest friends and a bunch of people that are like strangers to them. He presses down lightly against Mark’s adam’s apple, the tips of his fingers digging into the sides of his neck, only hard enough to feel like Mark’s heartbeat is trapped in his fist, at the mercy of his palm.

They keep eye contact through the mirror, Mark staring at him unblinking, getting hoody eyed as the seconds roll by, his heartbeat slowing down. Donghyuck let’s go once Mark’s heart is beating steadily, his shoulders slumping down as if he’s a puppet whose strings have just been cut.

“Better?” Donghyuck asks, his thumb stroking the line of Mark’s throat slowly. Mark nods as he breathes in deep through his nose, his chest swelling up with the amount of air he takes in before he’s sighing loudly. “Your voice alright?” Donghyuck says a little louder, straightening his back and getting his hand off of Mark completely.

“Yeah,” Mark replies, a little strained. He coughs and tries again, clear this time, “Yes, perfect. Thank you.”

He’s still looking at Donghyuck through the mirror with hooded eyes, but shining as bright as they always do.

“Anytime,” Donghyuck smiles. And he means it.




It’s so different to watch Mark on stage now.

He’s still the same confident guy Donghyuck set his eyes on almost a month ago. The outfits the styling team pick out for him are always on point, tight pants that accentuate the prominent curve of his ass, the thickness of his thighs, coupled up with those thin shirts, the first few buttons always popped open. His hair is still baby pink, pushed back and gelled out of his forehead, his eyebrows lowing over his eyes in these suggestive looks as he feels himself up, thrusting his hips at the beat of the songs. The sight of it brings Donghyuck up the wall.

Most times, he wears these pretty chokers around his neck—thin black bands, shiny pearls, silver chains—Donghyuck’s mind won’t stop reeling when that happens, his thoughts spiralling as Mark throws cocky smirks at the audience. He wonders and wonders what these people would say if they knew Mark gets off to the feeling of Donghyuck’s fingers tight around his throat, vulnerable and powerless all for him.




“He’s got you all wrapped around his little finger, babe,” Jaemin tells him late at night, once Donghyuck is already cuddled up between the warm blankets of a hotel room, his roommate snoring softly on the other bed.

Donghyuck groans into the phone. He fucking cries when he comes, he thinks, and he looks adorable.

For the first time, he doesn’t hang up on Jaemin. Instead, he admits, “I’m doomed, Jaem.”

And Jaemin, as always, squeals.




Donghyuck is stuck in the perfect balance between high and drunk. He feels floaty, his head half foggy in the darkness of this random club. He feels boneless sitting on a mushy bench, his body melting into the cushions and into Mark’s warmth.

“I want you so bad,” he whispers, lips dragging over the shell of Mark’s ears, all his inhibitions and filters burnt away by weed and alcohol. “Can’t stop thinking about it, you know? How I’ll feel. Inside of you.”

Mark makes this small noise, so soft that it would’ve gotten drowned by the noise and the music of the club if Donghyuck wasn’t close enough. He giggles as a response, dropping his forehead on Mark’s shoulder, one of his hands rubbing  up and down his thigh.

“Not here, Hyuck,” Mark warns. His voice is all strained, and that’s all Donghyuck needs to know he’s just as turned on, as eager to give in. “C’mon, let go,” Mark keeps saying, wiggling his shoulders a little to try to brush him off.

“Why?” Donghyuck pulls away enough to pout at him, his lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly. Mark’s eyes fall to his mouth almost unabashedly, his cheeks lit up like candles. “I know you want me.”

“I… Fuck, Donghyuck,” Mark chokes out, breathy like a laugh. He doesn’t push him away again, though. He brings a hand up until he can slide his fingers down Donghyuck’s cheek, his eyes jumping around the room before he’s focusing his attention back on him. “I don’t want everyone to see.”

“But they already know,” Donghyuck frowns, scooting a bit closer. Everyone in their team would be astonishingly dumb if they haven’t figured it out already. “Why do you even care?”

“The possibility of them knowing doesn’t mean I want them to see this.”

“Oh, you don’t like PDA? Is that it?” Donghyuck asks, his voice raising in realization. Mark shushes him, looking around again, his thumb pressing against Donghyuck’s lips to keep him quiet. Donghyuck takes the chance to press a wet kiss to the pad of his finger before Mark is dropping his hand, cheeks a deeper red than before. “Are you ashamed of me?” Donghyuck pouts again, pulling away. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“It’s not you,” Mark reassures him, but he doesn’t chase after him, doesn’t pull him in again. “It’s the attention that makes me uncomfortable.”

Donghyuck is too far gone to care, too focused on Mark to even bother to look around and count the pair of eyes that are currently on them. All he knows is the neediness bubbling up inside of him, tugging him closer to Mark, urging him to nuzzle at his neck and breathe in his now familiar smell. But he stays put, fingers digging into the hard muscle of Mark’s thigh, tense under his touch.

“What a career you chose, such a smart boy,” he points out, a giggle tumbling out of him.

Mark shakes his head at him, peering Donghyuck’s fingers off his leg with a shaky hand.

“You’re too high for this,” he says, dropping Donghyuck’s hand on his own lap.

“Why are you so sober?” Donghyuck squints at him, taking in the high blush on Mark’s face, his big dark pupils, the redness of his ears—it all has a lot to do with Donghyuck’s proximity and little to do with alcohol and weed. “This is a party for your group! Do you not drink? Are you pure even for this?”

“I don’t… Pure? What?” Mark stutters, all high-pitched like a squeal, the way he always sounds when he’s embarrassed. He ducks his head, stares at Donghyuck with wide shiny eyes as he tries to figure out what to say next. “I have a concert tomorrow, I don’t need a hangover on stage. I’m not pure.”

Donghyuck stays silent, staring into Mark’s eyes with his eyebrows crooked up. Mark curves his eyebrows as well, eyes going incredibly round and big as he stares back with the same intent. They stay like that, a battle of sorts, innocent and fun, until Donghyuck is dissolving into a fit of drunken laughter.

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles, rubbing his forehead on Mark’s shoulder before he’s pulling away again, reaching out for a hard drink to drown the tingling feeling in his belly.




The following morning, there’s a knock at Donghyuck’s hotel room when he steps out of the shower. He throws a bathrobe over himself hastily, slides his wet feet into a pair of slippers, and opens the door with his hair still tangled up, dripping cold water droplets over his neck.

He comes face to face with a sleepy Mark. He’s awkwardly standing right outside of the room, clad in an oversized white shirt and loose sweats. He’s wearing a black beanie almost down to his eyebrows, small pink strands peeking out through the sides, round black glasses not doing much to cover the bags under his eyes. He’s holding a tray, balanced between his left hand and his hip, full to the brim with all sorts of breakfast food—tea, milk, eggs, pastries...

“Good morning?” Donghyuck looks him up and down, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Hi,” Mark smiles with pink hollow cheeks. His eyes linger on the naked patch of Donghyuck’s wet chest for a second before he’s shouldering his way into the room.

“What exactly are you doing here?” Donghyuck kicks the door closed, turning around to see what Mark is up to.

“Brought you breakfast,” Mark gestures to the tray he just placed on the bedside table. He’s standing by the only unmade bed in the room, shuffling on his feet uncomfortably. “I figured you’d be too hungover to go downstairs to eat. Did you take the aspirin I left for you?”

Donghyuck tilts his head in suspicion, squinting at Mark. He takes a few tentative steps closer, pulling his robe tighter around himself.

“I did. Didn’t know you were the one who left it there, though.”

“Yeah, yes. I mean,” Mark bites down on his bottom lip, rubbing at the back of his neck as his eyes drift to the floor. “I’m the one who brought you here last night. I guess you don’t remember? You were, like, shitfaced, dude.”

“Dude,” Donghyck repeats, stopping to stand as close as he can without their bodies touching.

“Yeah, hm. That’s why I—” Mark’s words stop abruptly when he looks back up to find Donghyuck much closer than he was expecting. He coughs to clear his throat, and Donghyuck can’t see his ears, trapped beneath his beanie, but he’s sure they are crimson red already. “That’s why I told your roommate to leave the room to you, you know? So you could rest properly and stuff.”

“And stuff,”  Donghyuck mimics him again, laughing through his nose when Mark shuffles on his feet again, frowning at him.

“Are you just gonna stand there and mock everything I say? You know, a thank you would be nice,” he snaps.

“Sorry, sorry. And thank you,” Donghyuck says, raising his open hands as a peace sign. When he brings his arms back down, he places his fingers on Mark’s waist, squeezing softly. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re truly here.”

“I just told you, I wanted to bring you breakfast,” Mark’s frown disappears from his face, his body relaxing a little under the pads of Donghyuck’s fingers. “I have to leave for rehearsals in an hour.”

“And what?” Donghyuck tilts his head to the side, cocking a questioning eyebrow. “You’re gonna stick around and watch me eat? Is that it?”

Mark tries to avoid his eyes again, but his gaze falls on the patch of skin that the bathrobe isn’t covering up, still glistening with droplets of water. He swallows audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing behind the thin skin of his neck. Donghyuck has the sudden urge to lean down and sink his teeth there. He tightens his grip on Mark’s waist instead, dragging a yelp out of his throat.

“I just can’t—,” Mark starts, cuts himself off and tries again. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Donghyuck coaxes him patiently, thumbs caressing circles on his waist, over the fabric of his shirt.

“You?” Mark offers, looking at him with his eyebrows low over his eyes, almost pleading.

“Me?” Donghyuck mocks him again, causing Mark to huff at him. “I’m joking. But use your words Mark, c’mon. What do you want?”

Then, Mark takes a deep breath, sneaks his fingers between the gap of Donghyuck’s robe in a bold move. He wraps his hand around Donghyuck’s half hard dick, tugging at it softly, the slide dry and difficult. Donghyuck hisses at him, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thinking about what you said last night,” Mark blurts out, his face so pink that it almost matches his hair color. “You. Inside of me.”

Donghyuck breathes out a shuddering breath, gliding his fingers down Mark’s hips and around his thighs.

“I don’t think we have time for that right now,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss the corner of Mark’s mouth sweetly. Mark is still jerking him off, slow and loose, and Donghyuck groans against his cheek when he thumbs at the tip of his cock, his nose knocking against the rim of Mark’s glasses. “I wanna take my time with you, you know? We can do something else, though.”

Mark is nodding eagerly even before Donghyuck tells him what he’s got in mind, needy and desperate as always, always willing and ready to please.

“Will you let me fuck your thighs?” Donghyuck whispers into Mark’s mouth, his fingers digging into the back of his legs, squeezing hard the tender skin under his ass.

Mark sucks in a loud breath, nodding even faster than before. His free hand comes up to cup the nape of Donghyuck’s neck, dragging him in to kiss him open-mouthed and wet, not caring about the way his glasses crook on his nose awkwardly.

“Alright, get out of your clothes and into the bed, then,” Donghyuck mumbles trying to pull away, chuckling softly when Mark chases after him, attaching their mouths together again so he can suck into Donghyuck’s lower lip before he breaks away.

Donghyuck crouches down to pull out his bag, stuffed messily under his bed. He tugs at the zipper with impatient fingers, rummages through the pockets with trembling hands, throwing clothes into the bedroom floor until he finds the bottle of lube at the bottom.

Once he pulls himself up again, Mark is already sprawled on the bed completely naked, his glasses and beanie discarded on the bedside table, one of his hands sliding up and down his already fully hard dick.

“You’re getting confident, aren’t you?” Donghyuck says as he throws the bottle of lube on the bed, his head cocked to the side, eyes scanning up and down Mark’s body.

“C’mere already,” Mark mumbles. He sucks on his own lips nervously as he waits, his hand speeding up when Donghyuck undoes the knot of his bathrobe, pushing it off his shoulders and allowing it to slide down his arms until it’s pooling around his ankles. He stands there, fully naked beside the bed as Mark’s eyes drink him up avidly. “Fuck, I’ve been dying to feel you all night,” he grunts out, his hips lifting off the bed to thrust faster into the dry circle of his hand.

“You could’ve spent the night here,” Donghyuck teases, finally getting into the bed and crawling closer to Mark on his hands and knees. “Could’ve cuddled with me all night, like a cute couple.”

He doesn’t even have the time to feel either embarrassed nor worried at his own words, because Mark grunts out loud, his chest heaving as his hips stutter. He stretches out a hand towards Donghyuck desperate to feel him against him, and Donghyuck falls to his side more than willingly, sliding one of his thighs between Mark’s.

“Slow down,” he whispers into Mark’s neck, his nose dragging over the edge of his jawline. He curls a hand around Mark’s wrist, tugs at it to force him to let go of his dick, leaving him thrusting up into the charged air of the room. “You’re gonna finish way too fast.”

Mark whines high in his throat, but he doesn’t resist. He follows Donghyuck’s orders so nicely, resting his hands on his tensed up belly, waiting patiently for Donghyuck to make a move.

“You’re always such a good boy for me,” he keeps talking into Mark’s ear as he reaches behind him blindly, patting the matters until his fingers come in contact with the cold bottle of lube. “C’mon, turn around, pretty boy.”

Another broken moan falls from Mark’s lips at the compliment. He’s already shaking with anticipation as he shuffles on the bed, shifting closer so his back can fit perfectly against Donghyuck’s chest.

“Open,” Donghyuck commands, passing the bottle of lube to Mark and offering him his open hand, waiting for Mark to pour some of it into his fingers.

Once he’s got the skin coated in the slick, cold substance, he nudges at Mark’s thigh, guides him to hook his leg around Donghyuck’s so he’s all spread open for him, Donghyuck’s thigh between his.

He reaches down slowly, trailing his sticky fingers over the sensitive skin of Mark’s inner thigh until he reaches his perineum. Donghyuck starts to knead the area softly, lubing up the skin between Mark’s legs with tentative fingers, his strokes prominent enough to make him squirm and moan, but too light to offer him real pleasure, avoiding his dick on purpose.

Mark turns his head around, his hand coming up to tangle his fingers into Donghyuck’s still damp hair, dragging him into a kiss. It’s too messy and clumsy to be a real kiss, just Mark whining open mouthed against Donghyuck, his tongue picking out between his teeth to lick at the seam of his lips as he shudders. They have just started, Donghyuck hasn’t even touched him where he wants it more, and Mark is already putty in his hands, all flushed and on the verge of tears just for Donghyuck’s fingertips between his legs.

“God, you’re so—,” Donghyuck hisses, his words getting cut by Mark’s sudden movements. He’s pushing his ass back into Donghyuck’s body, trapping Donghyuck’s aching dick between them, rubbing against it almost unconsciously. “You’re fucking unreal,” Donghyuck keeps whispering, spit-stained lips moving over Mark’s.

He pushes back a little, just enough to slot his hard cock between Mark’s legs, pressed flat against his perineum, the tip nudging his balls. Then, he pushes himself as close to Mark’s body as possible, guiding Mark’s thigh down so his legs are clasped tight and nice around Donghyuck, his thighs all tensed up against him.

Mark’s moans get even louder once Donghyuck starts thrusting in the warmth between his legs, his dick dragging nice and fast along the heated skin, the head prodding Mark’s balls again and again, harder with each thrust. Donghyuck ends up clasping a hand around Mark’s hip to keep his movements steady, the tight, easy slide getting too much way too fast with Mark shuddering so close to him, their naked skin touching everywhere.

They’ve never had the time before to get properly naked together, their oversensitive bodies tangled up with no kind of barrier between them. It’s far more maddening than Donghyuck had expected. He’s getting a little bit light-headed at the feeling—the thin layer of sweat growing between them, the curve of Mark’s back against his chest, the way his thighs keep contracting around him, his plush ass fitting perfectly against Donghyuck’s hips.

“Hyuck,” Mark moans out loud, so loud that he pushes his own head into the pillow, muffling his words there. “Donghyuck. Touch me.”

And it’s the first time Mark asks him for something directly, so far gone already that he doesn’t even have it in him to stay polite and shy. Donghyuck whines against him, burying his face in the crook of Mark’s neck, sticking out his tongue to taste the salty skin.

He curls a hand around Mark’s waist, dances his fingers down his abdomen, his toned abs all tense under his pads. He desperately wants to take his time and touch Mark all over just like this, when he’s on the edge of losing his mind. But they don’t have the time and, by the way Mark keeps arching into him, crying into the pillow, he’s already way too close.

So Donghyuck wraps his hand around the base of Mark’s dick and squeezes tight, causing him to yell out loud as his thrusts become harder and erratic. He starts pumping Mark as fast as he can, the slide easy with the remnants of lube he used on his thighs. Mark quivers at the touch, his hips stuttering, as if he doesn’t know if he wants to press his ass closer to Donghyuck or thrust into the warmth of his palm.

Donghyuck comes like this, spilling between Mark’s thighs, his hips thrusting and shaking relentlessly as he mouths at the skin of Mark’s shoulder, panting against it.

“Please, Hyuck. Just, mark me,” Mark cries into the pillow, his dick pulsing and twitching in Donghyuck’s grip, beads of precum wetting his knuckles. “No one—No one will see there. Please, please, please.”

And Donghyuck—through the white fog in his head and the desperate want of bringing Mark over the edge—doesn’t have the heart to deny him anything when he sounds so shattered. So he sinks his teeth into the flesh of Mark’s shoulder, laps at the salty skin with this tongue before he’s sucking in as hard as he can.

Mark screams silently when he comes, throwing his head back, his pink hair tickling Donghyuck’s face. His entire body goes rigid, little tremors going through him with each spurt of cum he releases on the bed sheets, his hand coming down to squeeze around Donghyuck’s wrist, nails breaking skin.

Once Donghyuck pulls away, he looks down to Mark’s shoulder, prominent teeth marks surrounding a faint red bruise that will probably turn purple in a couple of hours. Good thing he’s the one in charge covering it up if Mark’s outfits reveal it, he thinks, laughing innerly.

Mark ends up rolling in bed with a groan, lying face down, his face buried in the sheets one more time. Donghyuck reaches out to trail his fingertips down the little bumps of Mark’s spine, chuckling when Mark squirms at the tickling sensation.

“I’m dead,” Mark mumbles, his voice muffled against the pillow. “Call my manager and tell him I can’t move. I just died.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Donghyuck keeps moving his hand down, down, down. He brushes his fingers between Mark’s cheeks, presses against the sticky skin between his legs. Mark shudders again, pushing his ass up into the touch. “We didn’t even get to the real thing, yet.”

Mark turns his head around until his cheek is squished against the pillow. He peeks at Donghyuck with a hooded eye, his pupils still blown dark, face all red and wet.

“The tour is almost over,” he points out, bright pink lips dragging over the white pillowcase as he speaks.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but there are a million questions hidden behind those words, all of them related to time and future. Donghyuck doesn’t have the answer for any of those, so he just shrugs and gets up.

“You’re gonna be late,” he says, crouching down to grab his robe and pulling it over his naked body again, feeling awfully exposed all of a sudden. He turns to the bedside table next, grabs a chocolate pastry and stuffs it into his mouth. “You gotta shower, your thighs are a mess,” he leans over the bed to slap Mark’s butt jokingly. “And before you ask, you can’t use my shower. I gotta get in again and it’s all your fault,” he’s already walking back into the bathroom without glancing back.

Once he’s all clean and wrapped into his robe again, Donghyuck steps out of the bathroom to find an empty room. He feels more relieved than he would like to admit.




From: jaem

do u wanna date him????


To: jaem

we dont rlly know each other nana

all we do is….. mess around and kiss a lot


From: jaem

ok but do u wanna date him


To: jaem

he isnt even allowed to date

i mean

not publicly at least

dude idk hes fucking famous


From: jaem

so??? do u wanna date him??????


To: jaem

its just

 i dont wanna lose touch i guess???

thats all


From: jaem

are u gonna tell him that


To: jaem

not unless he says something abt it


To: jaem


i can hear u rolling ur eyes from here


From: jaem

i think u should fight for what u want


To: jaem

ure such a hopeless romantic

i dont even know if i want him

not like that at least


From: jaem

whatever u say honey




And just like that, after countless plane trips and lonely hotel rooms and cities Donghyuck can’t even remember the names of, they reach the last show of the tour.

He doesn’t even know where they currently are. He doesn’t think it matters much, though, because the mood in the dressing room is the same as always: rushed and frantic, with too many people running around, the air warm and thick with nervousness and excitement.

Everything feels kind of like the first day, slightly out of control and rushing forward in the pure high of the moment. Mark’s hair is different, though. He got it dyed this morning, moved from the soft pink to a pastel orange. And it’s not a big deal, it still gives it that gentle edge to the harsh lines of his face, still looks pretty fucking cute on him. But it feels like the end of something Donghyuck can’t even put a name to.

Mark’s makeup is practically done, his face all smooth in the mirror. But Donghyuck lingers around, brush still held in his right hand as he stands behind his chair. They are looking at each other through the reflection, like that one time Donghyuck helped Mark with his nerves. But, this time around, Donghyuck thinks he might be the one who needs help.

He brings his free hand to the nape of Mark’s neck, curling his fingers slowly around it, breaking the eye contact. He slides his fingertips down the side of Mark’s throat, holding his breath like a secret as he pulls down the fabric of Mark’s shirt, just enough to reveal the fading purple bruise he sucked there a few days ago, teeth marks already completely gone.

Donghyuck thumbs over the warm, smooth spot, stroking the mark in gentle circles. Mark shags under him, the tension rolling off of his body in waves under the gentle pressure of Donghyuck’s skin on his. Donghyuck keeps staring at the fading mark, and he can’t help but wonder if his presence in Mark’s life will vanish this fast too, this seamlessly, if he’ll leave no trace behind.

He wants to say something about it, but he doesn’t even know how to voice it, because he doesn’t think he feels quite enough to ask for more without feeling incredibly selfish. At least, not yet.

Time isn’t on their side, though. The tradition wouldn’t change on their last day.

Mark gets up from the chair and away from Donghyuck’s fingers, tugging his shirt back in place and doing two more buttons than usual, just to stay safe. He doesn’t say anything either, but his fingers squeeze around Donghyuck’s wrist when he walks past him, the exact same place where he lifted skin a few mornings ago, leaving temporary prints behind.




It’s the last night of the tour, they’ll be catching a plane back to Korea first thing in the morning. Mark should be out partying with the rest of his group, celebrating the success of their first ever worldwide tour, sold out everywhere they’ve travelled to.

Instead, he’s pinning Donghyuck against the door of his hotel room, kissing him so hard and fast and deep that he doesn’t even leave him time to think.

“Mark, wait,” Donghyuck gasps against his lips. But Mark is already pushing his tongue inside of his mouth again, driving him insane only by the way he tastes, all curled around him, sweeping away any word he was trying to form.

“You said,” Mark breathes out into Donghyuck’s half open mouth, his hands mapping out the expanse of his chest, pressing against his nipples through the fabric of his sleeping shirt. Donghyuck doesn’t know when Mark figured it out, but the simple grace of his fingertips over the hard buds of his nipples has him squirming against the door, arching his back into Mark’s body. “You said you wanted to take your time with me,” Mark finally chokes out, tilting his head to nip at the skin of Donghyuck’s jaw. “Everyone’s out now. I’m giving you the last night, you better make it count.”

The words mixed up with Mark pinching both of his nipples at the same time has Donghyuck wailing, whimpering high pitched and shattered already. He should feel embarrassed, he thinks distantly, but he’s too busy pulling at Mark’s hair to bring his mouth close again, sucking onto his lower lip as he pushes him backwards towards the bed.

“Are you sure?” Donghyuck asks him once they fall onto the mattress, still fully clothed, but already fully hard, rutting against each other slowly.

“I think we’ve gone slow enough,” Mark slides his hands down Donghyuck’s back, digging his fingers into his ass to pull him harder against himself. He keeps making these cute moaning sounds, breathy and short, his head pushed back on the bed, pastel orange hair sprawled on the white sheets. “I even fingered myself before I came here,” he breathes out, looking right at Donghyuck with colored cheeks and hooded eyes. “I’d never done it before, but I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Shit,” Donghyuck’s dick twitches inside of his sweats, already painfully hard even though they’ve just started. He’s pretty sure he could come like this if Mark keeps talking, untouched and dirtying his underwear desperately. It wouldn’t even be the first time, anyway. “You prepared yourself for me? Are you that eager?” he tries to tease, but his voice comes out all hoarse, muffled against Mark’s skin as he leans down to lap at the skin of his neck.

“You’ve driven me a bit insane,” Mark laughs brokenly, fingers curling in Donghyuck’s hair when he bites on his throat, over the thin skin that’s covering Mark’s adam’s apple. He sucks hard until Mark is quivering underneath him, not worrying about leaving visible bruises for once. The tour is already over, so who the fuck cares?

Donghyuck isn’t dumb, he knows Mark is into him just as much as he’s into Mark. But he’s never heard those words coming out of his lips before, repeating what Donghyuck’s been thinking about Mark all these weeks. He’s positively losing his mind for this guy, with his sweet smiles and polite words and the eagerness to please. And he’s not about to back off now.

He peels himself away from Mark just enough to pull his sleeping t-shirt off, tugging at Mark’s to motion him to do the same. He flops back down as soon as the clothes fall to the side of the bed, hissing when their naked chests rub against each other. This is one of the things Donghyuck will regret the most in the future—not trying harder to find enough time to get Mark out of his clothes, to feel him skin against skin, all flushed and pretty pale in contrast to Donghyuck’s tan skin.

His lips find Mark’s again in a superficial kiss, just mouths fitting together loosely. Donghyuck trails his fingers down Mark’s sides slowly, causing him to giggle at the ticklish sensation. He can feel the goosebumps rising over Mark’s belly as he keeps going down, until his knuckles hit the waist of Mark’s pants. Donghyuck pulls them down in a single hard tug, dragging Mark’s underwear down to the middle of his thighs.

He doesn’t touch Mark’s dick right away, he presses his hand flat to his left inner thigh, dragging his nails over the sensitive skin as he lowers himself on Mark’s body. Mark’s always blushed so easily, his skin looks cotton pink under the soft yellow light of the room, smooth and salty under Donghyuck’s tongue as he licks his way down. He stops to suck a bruise over Mark’s ribs, jutted out beautifully when he arches his back against the bed.

“Donghyuck, please. Please, hurry up,” Mark whimpers, his words almost inaudible under the arm he just threw over his mouth to try to hide his expression, but still peeking down at Donghyuck over the edge.

Donghyuck smiles up at him lazily, his cheek resting on Mark’s toned stomach, his fingertips grazing his perineum in barely there caresses.

“I told you I’d take my time with you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but—” Mark’s words break in a loud moan when Donghyuck prods at his entrance without a warning, feeling the wet slide of the lube Mark used on himself earlier, already clenching on nothing eagerly. “Shit, I’m gonna—I’ll lose my mind. I’m serious.”

Donghyuck only laughs, high and chirpy against the warm skin of Mark’s belly, suddenly feeling lighter than ever before.

He keeps sliding down Mark’s body, settling comfortably between his legs to lick at the skin where his thighs meet his hips, dragging the skin of his hip bones between his teeth, nipping and lapping at his inner thighs nonstop, never staying in the same spot for too long. Mark writhes under him, hips stuttering and pushing into the air, his neglected hard cock bouncing against his stomach with each jerk. He doesn’t touch himself, though. He keeps one arm thrown over his face and one hand tangled in Donghyuck’s hair, because he hasn’t been given permission.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” Donghyuck groans as he finally wraps a hand around Mark’s dick to bring it closer to his mouth, gripping it loosely. “I’ve wanted to feel you inside of me for the longest time,” he confesses before he’s pressing a kiss to the tip, his tongue sneaking out to lap at the slit, the precome there bittersweet in his mouth. “But maybe another day, hm?” he keeps mumbling, nosing at Mark’s shaft, lips dragging torturously soft over his heated skin. He brings a hand to Mark’s hole, pushes his middle finger in all the way to his knuckle without a warning. Mark sobs muffled into the skin of his arm, his fingers tugging at Donghyuck’s hair so hard that it’s almost painful. “You got yourself ready for me so nicely. Always so good to me,” Donghyuck coos, crooking his finger and finding Mark’s prostate easily.

Mark squirms at the sensation, dragging his body upwards in an attempt to escape from Donghyuck’s fingers. He drops his arms on the mattress, hands knuckle-white around the sheets as he moans unabashedly. Donghyuck’s eyes catch the purple teeth marks on his arm, and he finds himself pressing a proud smile to the skin of Mark’s inner thigh as he pushes his pants and underwear down and off completely.

“Please. Please, Hyuck,” Mark whines, full on begging now. “Just, get out of your clothes. Please, just—”

“Just what, Mark?” Donghyuck asks, crawling up Mark’s body again, lowering his hips so the fabric of his sweatpants drags against Mark’s flushed cock. “Use your words, c’mon,” he whispers into Mark’s ear before he’s catching his earlobe between his teeth.

“Please, shit,” Mark croaks. He wraps his arms and legs around Donghyuck, clings onto him desperately as he thrusts his hips up, chasing after a friction Donghyuck refuses to give him. “Fuck me, Hyuck. Please, just do it.”

“You gotta let me go to do that,” Donghyuck snickers, his tongue running along the shell of Mark’s ear.

Then, there are hands on his naked chest, pushing him off and away harder than he was expecting. He laughs into Mark’s chest before he pulls himself up on his knees, only realizing how affected and hard he himself is when his legs buckle under his own weight.

Mark’s hands fly to his pants, tugging at the fabric with shaking fingers. Donghyuck shakes his head at him, moving out of his reach to get off the bed. Mark groans in frustration, but he doesn’t fight it, he only grips the sheets again, bending his legs to plant his feet on the bed, rubbing his ass against the mattress.

“Shit, Mark. You’re so needy,” Donghyuck says with a broken chuckle, pulling down his sweats and underwear and stepping out of them as fast as he can.

He’s tempted to stay there, standing beside the bed. He could wrap a hand around himself and get off to this—Mark twisting his body on top of the sheets, his dick twitching on his belly untouched, spurting beads of precome over his pale skin, Donghyuck’s name rolling off his lips in short, breathy whimpers.

But he doesn’t know if they’ll ever get the chance to be together like this again—or at all. So he crouches down to drag his suitcase from underneath the bed and fishes out the lube and condoms with nervous fingers.

Donghyuck drags Mark into a kiss as soon as he’s back in bed with him. He pulls him closer with a hand on his hip, slipping one of his legs between Mark’s as he coaxes his mouth open slowly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle his nape.

“Are you completely sure you want this?” Donghyuck asks when he pulls back, gliding his fingers to the side of Mark’s neck. His thumb slides down and dips into the hollow of his throat. Mark’s heartbeat jumps against his pad, hard but steady, and he nods up at Donghyuck with wide, round eyes, twinkling brighter than usual.

“Wanted it since the first day,” he confesses quietly, nodding.

Donghyuck has trouble believing him. After all these weeks, he still struggles to wrap his head around the fact that Mark’s never wanted anyone else like this before him, that he is the first person to ever make him feel like this, to ever see him all melted down to a sobbing mess. But he does believe him when Mark repeats that he wants him, that he’s sure, hotly into Donghyuck’s mouth, sucking on his tongue and rubbing over his nipples the way he knows drives Donghyuck crazy.

So he tells Mark to scoot up until his soft orange hair is sprawled on the mushy pillow, nudging his legs apart so Donghyuck can settle between them, kneeling before him.

They are both still painfully hard, Donghyuck hisses at himself when he gets the condom open and rolls it onto his swollen dick, stroking himself dryly a couple of times. Mark’s eyes are on him the entire time, wide open and almost pitch black, watching as the head of Donghyuck’s cock slides between the circle of his finger.

“Here,” Donghyuck stretches a hand out for Mark to take. Mark looks up at him confusedly, pouting when he tries to laze their fingers together and Donghyuck laughs at him.

But the pout fades under the pressure of Donghyuck’s lips when he leans down to kiss him softly, his free hand popping the bottle of lube open and squeezing some of it on Mark’s fingers.

“C’mon,” he encourages Mark, leading his hand between his legs. He’s looking at him, noses pressed together, so close that they go a bit cross-eyed trying to keep the eye contact.

Mark follows his lead obediently, meek as ever under Donghyuck’s body, all soft edges and red cheeks as he wraps his hand round him. He jerks him off slowly, with a loose grip and just barely there strokes to coat Donghyuck properly. But it still has Donghyuck whimpering, his head dropped against Mark’s shoulder so he can look down at himself, heavy in Mark’s palm. He’s shuddering at the pleasure that’s running through his body, incredibly pleasant but nowhere near enough.

“Please,” Mark begs one more time, nudging Donghyuck’s nose with his own. He lets go of Donghyuck’s length to hold on his shoulders, wrapping his legs around him to try to pull him closer. “Stop making me wait.”

Donghyuck thinks back to that time he had the urge to edge Mark, just to appease the strong curiosity of if he’d be able to take it, of how long he’d last before bursting into tears. But now, staring into Mark’s watery eyes, he wonders if he’d be able to deny him anything when he looks like this.

So he slides an arm between their bodies to line his dick properly, the head pressed directly to Mark’s hole. And then, he’s finally pushing in, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as Mark engulfs him in a tight bubble of heat.

“Oh my god,” Mark breathes out, his chest swelling up as his head lolls back, like a dead weight on top of the pillow. “Oh shit, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck isn’t even all the way in yet, and Mark is already sinking his nails into his shoulder blades, breaking through the skin. He whines into the sweaty skin of Mark’s neck as he pushes the last few inches in, until Mark’s ass is completely pressed against Donghyuck’s hips, fitting perfectly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, completely still inside of Mark even though the tightness is urging him to thrust in merciless. He’s holding himself up on his elbows, his muscles pulled into tense lines to control the desperate want that’s crawling at every bit of his body.

“Yeah,” Mark breathes out, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to swallow a moan that ends up slipping past his gritted teeth anyway. “It’s weird but. But good. I feel—” he squirms a little, pushing his ass down against Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to get him deeper inside of him. Donghyuck’s breath gets stuck in his throat, an embarrassingly high whimper rolling off his tongue at Mark’s walls clenching around him. “So fucking full. Oh, wow. Oh, Hyuck. Move, please.”

And Donghyuck couldn’t deny him that request even if he wanted, his entire body already buzzing with the intensity of his feelings.

He starts slow, pulling back until the swollen head of his cock is perfectly caught in Mark’s rim, before he’s pushing back in again carefully, his heated skin dragging along Mark’s walls. And Mark is so incredibly responsive, moaning with each and every thrust of Donghyuck’s hips, his thighs curling tighter around him, as if he never wants him to pull out.

They build up a rhythm, awfully gentle and careful, a pace that keeps Donghyuck on edge with each push of his hips, the slide between them so soft that it’s almost maddening. But then Mark is shifting, lifting his ass off the mattress to try to meet Donghyuck halfway, their movements becoming faster and harder each time their skin slaps together.

“Oh, goddammit,” Mark keeps cursing out loud, fingers gliding up the sweaty spine of Donghyuck’s back until they tangle in his hair, tugging harshly to bring their mouths closer. “Fuck. Harder. C’mon, I’m not gonna fucking break,” Mark commands against his lips, licking into Donghyuck’s open mouth, but not quite kissing. He’s so far gone already that he’s thrown politeness out the window.

Donghyuck reaches back to curl a hand around the back of Mark’s knee, pushing it further up towards Mark’s chest, bending him almost in half. And Mark lets him, goes with it so easily, all pliant and mushy underneath Donghyuck’s thumbs, melting down all for him.

Knees sinking down into the mattress, Donghyuck straightens up his back to push himself in harder and faster, thrusting up inside of Mark in a completely different angle, reaching deeper and hitting his prostate dead-on.

Mark full on screams beneath him, thighs quivering almost violently, hands tangled in the sheets as he tries to hide his already wet face on the pillow. He’s got his eyes screwed shut, pretty red lips parted, his tongue peeking out as broken whines roll off of it.

Donghyuck can feel his climax building up in his belly, in the back of his thighs, burning up in his chest. His movements get erratic as he leans down again, pushing Mark’s knee even further against his chest as he kisses him, all wet and clumsy.

They are breathing into each other with open mouths, their teeth knocking together with the strength of their movements. And Donghyuck can’t take it any longer—Mark clenching around him nonstop, swallowing him up so perfectly, the wetness of his cheeks rubbing on Donghyuck’s nose, his unashamed moans going straight to his gut, building up, up, up.

So he reaches between them to wrap his hand over Mark’s cock, pulsing hot between his fingertips as Donghyuck starts to stroke him as fast as he can go, messy but intently.

Mark comes first, his hips jerking up and down, as if his body isn’t sure if it wants to push further against the pleasure Donghyuck is providing or shy away because it is way too much. He clasps his hands around Donghyuck’s forearms, squeezing tightly as he spills all over his fist, sticky and warm, tears still running down his heated cheeks.

What brings Donghyuck over the edge is Mark, all wrecked and almost sobbing underneath him, somehow finding the strength to curl an arm around Donghyuck’s hips and sliding one finger inside of him. It’s dry, and Donghyuck hasn’t fingered himself in a long while, so it stings. But it’s so good. The slight pain mixed up with the thought of innocent Mark Lee doing this on his own volition is more than enough to have Donghyuck whining into the crook of Mark’s neck, spilling buried deep inside of him, shuddering uncontrollably.

Mark slips his finger out while Donghyuck is still going through the aftershocks, biting at Mark’s shoulder to try to muffle his whimpers unsuccessfully. And, once he’s calmed down a little, silence draping over them like a blanket, Mark starts to giggle.

“You’re insufferable,” Donghyuck groans, slipping out and rolling away from Mark. He slides the condom off, ties it and throws it in the can that’s next to his bed. When he turns back around, Mark is looking at him with glassy, hooded eyes, looking just as high and giddy as he always does after he comes.

“‘m cold,” he mumbles, rolling closer to Donghyuck. He throws a leg over Donghyuck’s, his arm across his chest, and hides in the crook of Donghyuck’s neck as if he owns it.

“Hey, you’re all gross,” Donghyuck complains, but only half-heartedly, threatening to push Mark away with no real effort. “You need to get into the shower.”

Mark shakes his head, his damp, sweaty hair tickling Donghyuck’s face.

“Just cuddle me,” he mumbles, sounding cotton soft and sleepy already. “I gotta leave soon, anyway. Before Taeyong gets back to the room.”

Donghyuck knows he should get up and find a washcloth to clean them both up properly, or drag Mark up on his unsteady legs and push him under the spray of the shower. But Mark’s body is all pliant and warm next to him, skin sticky but soft. And he’ll be gone soon, anyway. Who knows if forever. So he ends up draping an arm around Mark to tug him even closer, his fingers trailing up and down the line of his spine.

“Was it good?” he asks into Mark’s hair. “Are you hurt?”

“Was perfect,” Mark’s lips drag over Donghyuck’s skin when he speaks, he even presses a small kiss to his shoulder. “I feel perfect. Just tired.”

Donghyuck hums to let him know he’s listening, tightening the grip he has around Mark. He’s sure this would be the perfect moment to bring up the elephant in the room, to ask what now? But his mind is still foggy after his orgasm, and he doesn’t even know what he wants to happen from now on. All he knows is that Mark is comfortable pressed up next to him like this, molded into his side almost seamlessly.

They stay in silence for a while, Donghyuck dozing off until Mark pushes himself up in a shaky elbow, the noise of the sheets waking him back up. Donghyuck looks up at him with hooded eyes, already half asleep. He smiles lazily at him when Mark reaches out, the tips of his finger brushing over the line of Donghyuck’s jaw. Donghyuck waits and waits and waits, but the words never come. Mark only stares at him with dark eyes, until he’s leaning down to kiss him on the mouth.

It’s slow and careful, only lips brushing over lips tenderly. Then, Mark curls his fingers under Donghyuck’s chin to tilt his head up, deepening the kiss and gliding their tongues together gently. Donghyuck can’t stop himself from whining uselessly into Mark’s mouth, his hands tangled in the sheets so he can’t reach out, because he knows that if he holds onto Mark right now he won’t be able to let go.

“Hyuck,” Mark whispers once he pulls away, looking down with deep eyes and glistening lips. “Donghyuck, I—”

“I know,” Donghyuck cuts him off with a shake of his head. He presses a loud, wet kiss to Mark’s blushed cheek, throwing him a lighthearted smirk after. “Go now, c’mon.”

Mark lingers for a second, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. Then, Donghyuck blinks, and he’s gone.




It’s already four in the morning when Donghyuck steps out of the shower. He doesn’t want to wake Jaemin up with a phone call, so he messages him instead.


To: jaem

ive found the word

its not cute

its lovely


To: jaem

he’s so lovely jaemin


To: jaem





Donghyuck doesn’t get to talk to Mark for the entire flight, stuck in a different class, sat between two other people from the styling team. And, to be honest, Donghyuck doesn’t even know if he wants to talk to Mark, nervousness clogging up his throat just at the thought of it.

But once they land, he can’t escape when Mark walks towards him. He looks so small, dragging huge luggage, a black mask covering the lower part of his face.

“So…” he starts once he stops in front of Donghyuck, peeking at him with those big wide eyes, the only visible thing on his face apart from his ears.

“So?” Donghyuck prompts him to keep doing, tilting his head to the side.

“I have something for you,” Mark mumbles under the mask, fiddling with the pocket of the denim jacket he’s wearing. He hands something to Donghyuck, thin and rectangular like a card. “I had fun, Hyuck,” he says, voice soft and shy when Donghyuck reaches out to take the gift. The mask covers most of his face, but Donghyuck knows he’s blushing under it, can see it in the crimson red on the tip of his ears.

Donghyuck looks down, and what greets him isn’t a card, it is a picture. He guesses Mark took it the previous night, when Donghyuck fell asleep beside him. It’s only Donghyuck, sprawled on the bed, naked under the white sheets that are tangled between his legs, over his hips. And it’s signed, Mark’s signature a little bit smudged on the left corner of the glossy surface.

“Hope to see you around,” Mark says when Donghyuck turns the picture around.

There’s a little message written on the back, a simple call me? with a cute smiley face drawn right next to it in black ink.

It’s such a little thing, something that should be meaningless, like a dumb, silent inside joke between them. Still, Donghyuck’s chest is flooded with a warm feeling so strong that it is almost dizzying. He hasn’t found the words to reply with yet, but when he looks back up, Mark isn’t even standing in front of him anymore. He’s already too far away from Donghyuck, his retreating form getting lost between all the other nameless travelers.

Still, Donghyuck smiles to himself as he makes his way out of the airport and into Jaemin’s arms. He keeps the picture tucked in the inside pocket of his coat, hidden like a secret, like a future promise.