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pomp and circumstance

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"Donghyuck," his manager calls out. "They need you out on the floor for the set with Mark in five."

He cracks an eye open from where he'd had it closed, gaze flitting briefly over to where Doyoung was standing by the entrance of the dressing room. One of the makeup artists fluttering around him lets out a discontented 'tsk' at the action, tapping the underside of his chin to prompt him to close his eyes once more. He keeps his head completely still as the crew works their magic, adding the last finishing touches here and there to make him camera-ready.

A hand clamps down onto his shoulder after another minute or two, squeezing once to let him know they're done, and he opens his eyes, taking a second to admire himself in the mirror.

The makeup that they've given him is minimal this time around—eyelids lightly rimmed with a dark brown and cheeks brushed with a faintest dusting of gold. It's simpler than the usual affair, definitely more on the natural side, but he's not about to complain. He knows he looks good, after all, and it matches well with the theme of today's shoot.

He smiles wryly to himself at the thought. His first real official gig with Mark since they’d started hooking up all those months ago—though, no one in the company knew about that little tidbit—and of course it’d be a couples’ shoot.

The theme was aesthetic opposites, they’d said, showcasing an unlikely collaboration between two different fashion houses. Black and white, light and dark. It’s a little dated, in Donghyuck’s opinion, but even he has to admit it suits them both perfectly—Donghyuck’s reputation for sultry, more serious pictorials juxtaposed against Mark’s charming boy-next-door image. Even their hairstyles were complementary this time around, Donghyuck’s dark chestnut a jarring contrast to Mark’s freshly dyed platinum blond.

Donghyuck stands up from the director's chair, hands smoothing down the front of his outfit. The see-through mesh button-up is a little more risqué than he’s usually styled for, but he finds that he likes the change, turning from side to side as he checks himself out.

Satisfied with what he’s seeing, he goes to put on the assortment of accessories laid out before him, pausing for a split second at the multitude of rings before he makes his way over to the coat rack, where one of their stylists is armed and waiting with the final piece of his outfit—a heavy black and white colorblock trench coat.

He shrugs into the coat and turns around for Doyoung, arms splayed out with a flourish as he grins. “Well?” he asks. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re already running late,” Doyoung answers with a wry smile of his own, shaking the call sheet in his hand as a reminder. “You know you look good, kid. No need to fish for compliments.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck pouts, but moves towards the door nonetheless. “And I’m sure they’re running late anyway.”

“You still need to be on standby,” Doyoung says, ushering him out of the room. “Because it’s you two on set after Mark’s done his solos, and then we’re taking a short break to change the backdrop and to let you guys change for the second half of the collection.”

Donghyuck hums in consideration but says nothing more as he follows Doyoung’s quick strides to the main room. There’s a flurry of activity around the set, centered around the front of the room, where the camera and all the lighting paraphernalia are set up and focused on the main attraction—Mark reclined back on a leather chaise, thighs spread with one leg propped up on the seat, head thrown back lazily as he looks into the camera.

It’s a sinful image, Donghyuck thinks, and one that isn’t usually associated with someone like Mark Lee.

His eyes trace over Mark’s outfit, and he takes a second to commend the stylists in his head for how well they’d planned everything out—true to the theme, almost every aspect of Mark’s outfit is a complementary echo of his own. In place of Donghyuck’s mesh shirt, Mark is dressed far more conservatively, a high-collared shirt buttoned all the way to the top. The dim lights of the studio reflect off the silky material of the fabric, shifting with each and every one of Mark’s movements, and the black blazer that was coupled with the outfit has long been forgotten, stylistically draped over the back of the chaise.

What a pretty picture, Donghyuck smiles to himself, fingers itching with the urge to feel the fabric under his touch firsthand.

Doyoung levels him with a flat look, feeling his gaze burning against the side of his face. He bites back a mischievous smirk, and one of Doyoung’s eyebrows raises in judgement as he follows Donghyuck’s line of sight.

“Can you please not antagonize him today?” Doyoung pleads, long-standing exasperation creeping into his voice as he incorrectly assumes the worst.

(Although, given their history, Donghyuck couldn’t really blame him.)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’d rather not have a repeat of the last time you and Mark were paired up for a shoot,” Doyoung continues flatly. “Some of us actually want to go home before sundown, you know? I don’t want to have to break up another one of your petty arguments.”

“You worry too much, hyung,” Donghyuck grins, and he knows Doyoung doesn’t believe it for a second. “I promise I’ll be good.”

 

 


 

 

See, the thing about watching Mark Lee when he’s working is that it’s nearly impossible to tear your eyes away once he gets into his element.

Donghyuck’s no stranger to watching him, of course. It’s only been less than a year since Mark had joined his agency, but even then, he's already familiarized himself with the way Mark turns it on for the camera—critical eyes following every articulated pose, every minute turn of Mark's head, and every shift in Mark's expression as he follows the photographer's directions.

Donghyuck meets Mark's eyes from where he stands behind the cameras, arms crossed in front of his chest and the corner of his lips curled up into a small smirk as he slowly rakes his eyes down Mark's body in a blatant once-over, a singular eyebrow raising in interest as his eyes travel back up to Mark’s face.

Mark's Adam's apple bobs once as he swallows thickly, the tip of his ears burning a bright red before turning back to the camera. It’s a telling sign of how affected he is by Donghyuck's gaze, and he can't help the way his smirk stretches wider at the thought of making Mark lose his composure in the middle of a shoot.

Luckily—or unluckily, depending on who you’re asking—it isn’t long before the last of Mark’s shots are taken, the photographer straightening up with a signal for Donghyuck to join in on the fray. He sees Mark let out a breath, slumping back against the cushions as he turns his attention back to Donghyuck’s approaching figure.

“Where do you want me, boss?” Donghyuck asks out loud, eyes never straying from Mark’s as he saunters onto the set. He lowers his voice then, closer to a whisper, so that Mark’s the only one who can hear him say, “Hi, Markie.” He throws him a playfully sharp grin. “Long time no see.”

Mark’s lips twitch in amusement, holding back a smile. “Yeah,” he replies softly, and Donghyuck has to strain to hear him. “I’d say ten hours is a pretty long time.”

There’s a twinkle in Donghyuck's eyes as his grin softens to a small smile. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Okay, Donghyuck,” the photographer—someone named Ten, Donghyuck faintly remembers—calls out, bursting their little bubble as they both turn their attention towards him. Ten’s gaze is fixed firmly down towards the camera in his hands as he fiddles with the settings. “I want you seated on the chaise. And you, Mark, on the floor between his legs. I’m gonna have Donghyuck’s arms draped over your shoulders for the first few shots.” Ten looks up then, eyes darting between the two young models in front of him. “Any questions?”

They both shake their heads and quickly move into position, professional instinct kicking in as they arrange themselves as requested. And this, at least, was familiar—whatever unnamed thing he and Mark may or may not have while off the clock is set aside in favour of work, and Donghyuck tries his best to ignore the warmth radiating off of Mark’s body as one of his arms settles to wrap around his shoulders.

It’s a familiar feeling though, being this close to Mark. The scent of his cologne at this proximity is enough to have him suppressing a shiver at the sudden flash of memories it dredges up to the surface, back to the very first night that started it all—he remembers the club, and being entirely too close to Mark as they danced, Mark’s arm curling around his waist before their first drunken kiss of the night. He remembers having his face pressed into Mark’s pillows, muffling the gasped out moans ripped from his throat as Mark took him from behind, bed frame slamming against the wall with the force of every thrust. He remembers returning the favour the very next morning, bending Mark over in the showers before they headed out for work.

“—him in.”

Donghyuck blinks as he’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Ten’s voice, and before he could ask him to repeat what he said, Mark’s already leaning further back, one arm coming up to cradle the back of Donghyuck’s head to pull him down closer to his face.

“Like this?” Mark asks, face turning towards Donghyuck but looking at Ten from the corner of his eye.

Donghyuck’s breath hitches as Mark subtly tugs at his hair, the action hidden from view from most of the room—a warning for him to pay attention, for Donghyuck to get his mind out of gutter so he doesn’t give anything away. The arm around Mark’s shoulder tightens as Donghyuck settles more comfortably into position, angling his head in a way that makes it look like they’re about to lean in for a kiss, but hovering mere inches away, the growing tension between them palpable as Mark’s eyes glance back to meet his.

Ten lets out a whistle from somewhere in their periphery. “Yeah, that’s better,” he says. “But Donghyuck?”

“Yeah?” Donghyuck answers, eyes drifting down to Mark’s lips for a split second before he could help it.

“Instead of your hand on Mark’s shoulder,” Ten says, followed by a thoughtful hum as he studies their pose. “I want you to wrap your hand around Mark’s throat, kind of like you’re tipping his head back, yeah? Think vampires going in for a bite, if it helps with the visual. It’ll highlight Mark’s shirt better, I think.”

Lips curling up into a small smirk, Donghyuck obliges, hand sliding from Mark’s left shoulder to slowly come up the column of Mark’s throat, fingers deftly pressing into his jawline, tilting his head up and back against Donghyuck’s shoulder instead. He can feel Mark swallow under the pads of his fingers, breath stuttering for just a second before Mark relaxes under his touch.

“Sexy,” Ten murmurs absentmindedly, looking at them through the viewfinder. “Now, I want you both to look at the camera. Mark, look down at it while you tilt your head slightly back, and yeah—keep your hand in Donghyuck’s hair.” Ten looks up as he continues to ramble on, ordering for tiny adjustments until they fit whatever vision he’d had in his head. “—And Hyuck, I want you to look straight into the lens. You’re gonna be the focal point for this shot, so feel free to play around with your expressions.”

Finally, Ten nods and looks back into the viewfinder, preparing for the first shot. Donghyuck can practically hear the grin in his voice as he finishes with, “I want you to try and seduce the camera, basically.”

Mark snorts from his position by Donghyuck’s shoulder, and Donghyuck’s fingers tighten ever so slightly around his throat in response. “Not a problem,” Donghyuck says, a lazy smile making its way on his face as he feels a tiny shudder run through Mark’s body against him.

Well now, that’s a little detail he’s filing away for later.

“Perfect,” Ten says, and the air around them shifts as they focus on work, the rest of the world falling away except for the singular lens of Ten’s camera. “Alright, hold still for me, boys.”

 

 


 

 

A solid hour later and Ten snaps the final shot of this session, announcing the break just as the room lets out a collective sigh of relief. Donghyuck and Mark are quick to pull away from each other, the prolonged contact making them both jittery, nerves frazzled as Mark does his best to avoid Donghyuck’s eyes.

“Alright, you guys have thirty minutes before I need you back on set for the next session,” Ten calls out. “Go change and take a breather, and I’ll see you both at four.”

Donghyuck watches as Mark scurries away to the dressing rooms, dithering on set for a few moments to endure Doyoung’s usual fussing, waving his manager away under the pretense of telling him to take a break for himself while he still can. He takes his time walking back into the dressing rooms, mindful to keep an eye out for anyone that seemed to be lingering around.

Mercifully, there’s not a soul in sight—most of the staff focused on setting up in the main room—and Donghyuck bites back an excited smile as he quickens his pace.

He slips into the shared dressing rooms, brows furrowing when he finds the room seemingly empty. He spots Mark’s phone on the corner of the tables though, and he closes the door behind him before venturing further into the room. He pockets the rings adorning his fingers one by one as he walks towards the changing stalls in the far end of the room, the curtains for one of the booths drawn closed, and Mark’s discarded blazer hanging haphazardly from the top of the stall in a dead giveaway.

Contrary to what Donghyuck was expecting, Mark doesn’t jump in surprise or move to kick him out as soon as Donghyuck slips behind the curtain. Instead, Mark raises an eyebrow in disbelief at Donghyuck’s presence as he meets his gaze through the mirror, hands pausing from where they were in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt.

“I can’t believe how predictable you are.”

Donghyuck snorts. “Our first shoot together in this long and you expected me to leave you alone?” He throws Mark a shameless grin as he steps up into Mark’s space, chest pressed flush to Mark’s back as he bats Mark’s hands away and replaces them with his own. He hooks his chin over Mark’s shoulder as he continues where Mark left off. “Come now, darling. How can I pass up on a chance like this?”

“Really?” Mark asks, but he leans back against Donghyuck anyway. “Here? Now?”

“No time like the present, wouldn’t you say?” Donghyuck murmurs distractedly. His voice lowers then, taking on a rough edge as he leans up to nip at the shell of Mark’s ear. “You looked so fucking pretty today, Mark.”

Donghyuck finishes undoing the last button, the silken fabric falling open to reveal Mark’s chest. His hands come to rest on Mark’s hips as his eyes trail along the patchwork of fresh hickeys that litter across Mark’s collarbone, the bruises continuing down, down, down—a reminder of their previous tryst, graciously left by Donghyuck the night before as he’d pinned Mark down onto his bed.

“Everyone in that room couldn’t keep their eyes off of you,” Donghyuck continues, whispered in between presses of his lips against Mark’s skin, featherlight kisses down the side of Mark’s neck as his head falls back against Donghyuck’s shoulder. “But me?” He looks up to meet Mark’s half-lidded gaze through the mirror, gaze simmering, burning with barely restrained hunger, grip on Mark’s hips tightening until that, too, was sure to bruise. “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

Mark isn’t fast enough to suppress the full-body tremor that wracks down his spine at Donghyuck’s words, grinding his ass back against Donghyuck almost instinctively. Donghyuck presses in even closer, letting Mark feel the outline of his cock against his slacks, already half-hard from anticipation, from the prospect of reducing Mark to putty in his hands, and Mark’s breath hitches at the sensation before letting out a low whine.

“Hyuck—”

Donghyuck shushes him with a soft kiss to Mark’s cheek, earning him a frown before Mark turns his head, wordlessly asking for a kiss that Donghyuck is too weak to deny him. His hands travel up Mark’s torso as they kiss, fingers pressing into the bruises to remind Mark of their presence. His thumb brushes against one of Mark’s nipples—no more than a fleeting touch, really—but it’s enough to make Mark gasp and break off from the kiss, the sensitivity making him want to curl in on himself.

Donghyuck stops him though, one of his hands coming up to press Mark back up against him, the hand on his chest travelling up to grip at his jaw, forcing Mark to look back up at them through the mirror. The flush on Mark’s cheeks burns bright, even through the layers of foundation, creeping down his chest as he takes in their joint reflections. Donghyuck’s smirk behind him is absolutely wicked, and he watches as Mark’s eyes follow his other hand as it travels down to the waistband of Mark’s pants, fingers dancing around the hem but never quite moving to unbutton them.

“I love how easy you are,” Donghyuck whispers, fingers ghosting over the tent starting to strain against Mark’s slacks. He bites back a smile as he feels another tremble wrack down Mark’s frame, jaw clenching to hold in the quiet whimpers threatening to escape him. “Always so eager for me, aren’t you?”

Mark lets out a defeated sigh, then a low whine, reaching back to fist a hand in the fabric of Donghyuck’s own pants as he grinds back against him. “I hate you.”

He huffs a quiet laugh before dipping his head down to press a kiss to the tip of Mark’s shoulder, lips brushing against silk. “I’m gonna need you to keep it down, okay?” he murmurs. “I closed the door, but it doesn’t lock, so anyone could come in at any time.” He undoes the button to Mark’s pants with a practised flick of his wrist, index finger teasingly tracing along the clothed length of his shaft. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

Somehow, Mark flushes ever harder at the pet name, bottom lip catching between teeth as his eyes flutter shut at the touch. He nods once, a weakly hissed expletive falling from his lips with a gasp when Donghyuck rewards him with a whisper-soft croon of “Good boy.”

“Wait,” Mark manages to rasp out, eyes blinking open, slightly unfocused from all the arousal rushing through him. “T-time,” he breathes out, voice already wrecked, before looking over to the closed curtains. “We don’t have a lot of time before the next shoot.”

Donghyuck smiles, unbothered. “We won’t go all the way, don’t worry. You’re coming home with me tonight anyway, and I’m going to take my time fucking you then,” he says, tilting Mark’s head to the side with the hand on his jaw so he could press open-mouthed kisses into the crook of Mark’s neck, Mark’s shirt falling off one shoulder to pool around his elbows. He nips down hard enough to leave a mark, low enough that Mark’s shirt would be able to hide it, and kisses it in apology before whispering, “But for now, let me just take care of you.”

Mark wrenches a hand into Donghyuck’s hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands as he turns his head to pull him in for another kiss, this time more heated, more frantic, a little bit desperate. Donghyuck swallows the breathy moans ripped from Mark’s throat as he finally slips his hand inside Mark’s boxers, fingers curling around the swollen curve of Mark’s cock, starting off with torturously slow strokes as he pumps him to full hardness.

“Mm,” Mark winces after a beat, breaking off from the kiss once more. “Too dry.”

“Right back pocket,” Donghyuck murmurs, hand stilling as his lips trail kisses down Mark’s jawline instead.

Mark’s free hand reaches back into said pocket, a strangled noise making its way out of his chest as he passes Donghyuck the packet of lube.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to have a quickie in my car,” Donghyuck answers. “But sue me, I got a little excited.” He leans back up to nip playfully at the shell of Mark’s ear before pulling back to open the packet with his teeth. “Sorry, not sorry.”

Mark’s head falls back against his shoulder as he glares at Donghyuck through the mirror, but he shimmies his pants and underwear down a bit further to avoid the mess, and he sighs once Donghyuck’s hand starts stroking him once more, eyelashes fluttering in pleasure at the easier slide.

“You’re the worst,” Mark mumbles.

Donghyuck grins. “You love it.”

Mark hums noncommittally, and Donghyuck’s other hand slowly trails up the column of his throat, fingers hesitantly wrapping around in an echo of their earlier pose. He tightens his grip on Mark’s throat just ever so slightly, lightly treading the waters and searching Mark’s face for any sign of discomfort, and an unbridled spike of want shoots up his spine when he feels Mark’s cock twitch in response.

“Fuck, you like this, don’t you?” Donghyuck laughs under his breath in disbelief. Mark says nothing as he averts his eyes off to the side, the tips of his ears burning bright with embarrassment. Mark’s cock, now flushed a dark red and steadily leaking in Donghyuck’s grip, is answer enough on its own. He slows down his strokes, the hand around Mark’s throat easing up and coming down to pinch the tip of Mark’s cock with his fingers, spreading the beads of precome all over the digits. “Look how excited you’re getting.”

Wordlessly, Donghyuck brings the hand back up, fingers gently tapping against Mark’s bottom lip as if asking for permission. Mark glares at him through the mirror but opens his mouth nonetheless, tongue darting out to lick the tips of his fingers before Donghyuck presses them inside. Mark winces a little at the taste of himself, but he swirls his tongue around the digits, sucking dutifully as he would if it was Donghyuck’s cock instead.

“That’s a good boy,” Donghyuck whispers, revelling in the shudder that runs through Mark at the praise. “My good boy.”

He tightens his grip around Mark’s cock and speeds up his strokes, Mark’s hips jerking up in surprise as he moans around Donghyuck’s fingers. Mark’s eyes flutter open, glassy with the beginnings of tears, and Donghyuck’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight, a small groan escaping him as his own cock hangs heavily in between his legs, throbbing with the lack of attention. “Christ, Mark.”

Mark pulls away, throwing his head back against Donghyuck and baring his throat as Donghyuck meets his half-lidded eyes through the mirror. One of Mark’s hands reaches out to grab at the wrist of the hand working his cock, egging Donghyuck on as Mark teeters towards the edge.

“Donghyuck, please,” Mark bites down on another moan as Donghyuck flicks his wrist in the way he knows Mark likes. “‘m close. More, can you—”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck rasps, hand coming up to rest against Mark’s throat once more, squeezing, tight but not enough to hurt. “Fuck, yeah, I’ve got you.” He breathes out a shaky exhale, hips jerking up against the swell of Mark’s ass as he drops his forehead down onto Mark’s shoulder. “God, you’re so perfect. You have absolutely no idea what you do to me.”

Donghyuck can feel how quickly Mark’s pulse is beating under his fingers, swears he felt it skip a beat at his words. Mark’s breaths are ragged, bare chest heaving as he starts gasping out a never-ending litany of yes, yes, yes and please, interspersed with near-broken cries of Donghyuck’s name.

“Ah—Hyuck,” Mark gasps out, probably louder than he should be, given the circumstances, but the desperate edge in his voice prompts Donghyuck to look up, lifting his head from where he’d been sucking a line of hickeys down Mark’s shoulder.

The sight that greets him when he looks back up at the mirror is one that Donghyuck knows is going to be burned into the back of his mind for a long, long time—Mark’s teary gaze looking directly at him, shirt splayed open and hanging loosely by his elbows, with Donghyuck’s hand wrapped around his pale throat and the other working his leaking cock. He can see the tense lines of Mark’s stomach tensing, and he knows he’s getting close—so fucking close.

Donghyuck tightens the grip around Mark’s throat, coaxing praises whispered into his ear, rhythmic strokes unrelenting until Mark finally comes with a high-pitched keen, splattering all over the mirror. He trembles through the aftershocks in Donghyuck’s hold, and Donghyuck moves to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him upright, Mark slumping back against Donghyuck’s body once he’s completely spent.

Mark pats the side of Donghyuck’s thigh in a silent commendation, and Donghyuck hides a smile as he nuzzles into the crook of Mark’s neck. “Yay, you did so well, Markie. Five stars.”

Mark snorts, and moves to cover Donghyuck’s arm wrapped around his waist with his own. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that to you?” He pushes his hips back experimentally, smiling wryly at the hard outline of Donghyuck’s cock, still restrained within the confines of his pants. “Want me to return the favour?”

Donghyuck turns him around in lieu of replying, hand coming up to cradle the back of Mark’s head as he leans in for a sweet kiss. Mark returns the kiss in kind, wrapping his arms around Donghyuck’s shoulders to keep him in place as he pulls back.

“What happened to not having enough time?” Donghyuck asks, a challenge clear in his voice.

“Smartass,” Mark chirps, levelling him with an unimpressed look at the taunt, an eyebrow raised as he jokingly continues, “I could always just leave you here like this, you know. You were the one who ambushed me, so I’m only offering once.”

Donghyuck pretends to think about it for a second before diving back in for one last kiss, cheekily tugging at Mark’s bottom lip with his teeth as he takes a step back from the embrace.

“Time to get on your knees then, babe. The clock is ticking.”