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It started in the practice room.
Somewhere between endless drills and learning to get the new dance moves just right, Jaemin had called Mark –
“Daddy ,” Jaemin wiggled on the floor as he whined, high-pitched and clearly teasing. “Help me.” He brandished a hand towards Mark, making grabby motions with his fingers.
“Shut up, man,” Mark replied easily, but reached down to pull Jaemin to his feet anyway.
“Gross,” Chenle said absently, not even looking away from his phone. The rest barely acknowledged it. It was a funny, thoughtless exchange that lasted seconds.
But Donghyuck, from where he sat on the couch, had been watching Mark when Jaemin called him. He had seen the way Mark whipped his head around almost instantly, the way he set his shoulders.
Hmm, Donghyuck had thought. Even when he rejoined the group, it didn’t leave his mind.
.
.
“Would you say we know each other well?” Donghyuck asks the next morning, when he and Mark are barely awake in the car, being driven to a schedule he can’t remember. He makes sure to pitch his voice low so that their manager can’t hear him.
Mark looks up and squints at him, face illuminated slightly by his phone screen. His hair is mussed, and his glasses are slightly skewed. Donghyuck had been the one who found it between their pillows and pushed it onto his face before they rushed out of the house.
“I see you more than my own reflection,” he says, which is a likely observation. “All my memories since I was 15 include you.”
“That was kind of sweet,” Donghyuck says after a pause.
Mark gives him a look.
“It’s work,” he states flatly.
“I mean, like, personally,” Donghyuck says, glancing over at their manager, before leaning in, seatbelt straining across his chest. “Sexually.”
Mark flinches backwards and shoots Donghyuck a bewildered, almost offended, look.
“Jesus, Haechan,” he grunts. “It’s 6am.”
“We won’t have any other time to talk,” Donghyuck points out.
“Jesus Christ,” Mark says again, flattening himself further against his seat. He darts his eyes around like a caged animal before meeting Donghyuck’s gaze. “I don’t know, probably? Why does it matter?”
Donghyuck exhales.
“I was thinking. About what Jaemin said. Yesterday,” he says, and watches Mark frown in confusion before freezing. “I was looking at you, and you were – well. You reacted.”
“I did not,” Mark argues, almost like a reflex, before going silent.
“I’m not saying it to embarrass you,” Donghyuck folds his hands in his lap, slouching his shoulders. Making himself look smaller. Non-offensive. “I just wanted to know.”
The silence stretches with Mark staring blankly and Donghyuck keeping his head low.
Finally, Mark turns his head to look out the window, still quiet. His shoulders come up just slightly, then drops in a shrug.
Donghyuck hesitates. “The point is if it was something that was… interesting to you, and you wanted to, we can. We can talk about it. That’s all I wanted to say.”
He waits for a few more seconds, staring at the back of Mark’s head, before deflating when Mark doesn’t move.
Donghyuck pulls out his phone and puts on a Youtube video, turning up the volume to make it clear that the conversation is over. He pretends not to notice the way it makes Mark sag against the window in relief.
.
.
“Did you guys fight or what?” Jaemin asks in the waiting room. The timing is obviously strategic, with Mark still outside in the main studio.
Jaemin stretches out on the seat next to Donghyuck, straightening his long legs under the small coffee table and tilting his head back to rest against the cushions.
“Did he say something to you?” Donghyuck frowns, something between jealousy and hurt twinging in his chest.
“You know he wouldn’t,” Jaemin snorts. “You’re not talking to each other. And not in the usual way.”
Donghyuck scans the room, seeing Jisung curled up on one of the makeup chairs at the other end of the room, frowning down at his phone as his fingers fly over the screen, clearly engrossed in some sort of game.
“It’s kind of private.”
“Privacy? In this team? What’s that?”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, then pauses to consider his odds. There’s no one better to ask than the man who started it. He doesn’t let himself dwell too long before taking the plunge.
“Why did you call Mark daddy?”
For a moment, Donghyuck thinks he may have come off too strong. It’s a crazy, unsettling way to start a conversation.
He only remembers who he’s speaking to when Jaemin doesn’t even flinch.
“I saw someone hold up a banner calling him that during the tour and thought it was funny,” he shrugs. “And I didn’t think he’d be opposed.”
“Why?”
“This is a guy who depends on control and perverse self-discipline to get through the absolute hurricane of his life, right? The only outlet he has to channel any residual emotion is by taking care of the people around him. And he depends on the feedback loop of our responses to feel fulfilled, since he doesn’t trust himself to feel intrinsically positively about anything. Don’t you think that name would feed into all of that?”
Donghyuck tilts his head up to look at the ceiling boards.
“That’s kind of fucked,” he says, though he knows it’s true. Of course he knows.
“Yeah,” Jaemin replies simply. “Is that what he’s stuck in his head about? I thought he’d be more self-aware.”
Donghyuck recalls Mark’s face from the morning. He’d been embarrassed, maybe guilty. But he wasn’t exactly surprised.
“I think,” Donghyuck says slowly. “He knows. But it’s not something he wants to talk about yet. He’s got weird hang-ups about things like this.”
“That’s fair,” Jaemin agrees. “Then why do you care so much?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the only person allowed to care.”
“Unfortunate. If only you were more inclined to share your toys.”
“Still on that, are you,” Donghyuck replies dryly.
Jaemin just looks at him with that antagonising half-smile.
“So what are you gonna do? Ignore it? Tell his therapist? Join him? ”
Jaemin gasps theatrically then, pitching his voice high and loud. “Do you want a daddy, Haechanie?”
They both ignore Jisung’s confused, scandalised “ uhh???” , Jaemin watching Donghyuck like the snake he is.
Donghyuck knows better than to show vulnerability to a predator.
“Ah Jaeminie, you would love to know, wouldn’t you,” Donghyuck says back as he leaves the waiting room.
.
.
Mark is notoriously good at keeping most things close to his chest.
Luckily for Donghyuck, he’s been a master of breaking through those carefully-constructed barriers since they were children. If his attempt to be vulnerable in the car didn’t work, there’s the well-tested method of pressing all of his boyfriend’s buttons until he caves.
He waits for the moment that Jaemin brings it up again, which comes predictably soon.
When Mark helps the managers carry their lunch to the green room, Jaemin calls out, “Aigoo, look at what a strong man our Daddy is.”
Mark snorts as he starts to help hand out the bento boxes, and Jaemin smiles over at Donghyuck. From the other side of the room, Donghyuck meets his eyes evenly.
When Mark gets to him and holds out the box, Donghyuck slides his hand up to Mark’s outstretched wrist instead, tugging him down until Mark bends over in front of him, close enough for Donghyuck to whisper into his ear, smooth and low, “Thank you, daddy.”
He’s careful to pry the box out of Mark’s sudden tight grip on it, tilting his head down as he sets it on his lap and removes the lid, looking nonchalant to the rest of the world. Through his fringe, he sees Mark’s feet linger in front of him for a long time, before there’s an answering cough, and he shuffles away.
Two pairs of eyes burn into his skin, but Donghyuck only looks back at one of them.
Jaemin tilts his head, amusement clear in the curl of his lips. Donghyuck spoons rice into his mouth to hide his own smile.
.
.
Donghyuck is careful to choose the right moments.
Always in a public space so that Mark can’t question him about it. Always slipped in between busy moments, and said so fast and casually that it’s easy to be mistaken for something else. Playful enough that it could be laughed off, but in a voice only Mark can recognise.
The next time he does it, they’re on the steps leading up to the stage of a festival in Japan, waiting for the MC to invite them up. Mark is next to him, one black boot braced on the step above. Donghyuck spies the shoelace coming loose and points it out.
Mark starts to bend over, but Donghyuck is faster. He slips under Mark’s curved torso to reach down, pulling the laces quickly to retie them. When he finishes, he straightens up just enough to meet Mark’s face, inches away from his own. Mark’s shocked exhale from the proximity puffs across his cheek.
“Be careful, daddy, don’t trip,” Donghyuck whispers.
Mark jolts backwards.
Donghyuck turns away before he gets to see Mark’s expression, yanking his headset mic back up to his lips as the producer speaks into their earpiece to give them the cue. He bounds up the steps, his face already schooled back into stage-readiness, and hears Mark’s erratic footsteps follow him a full beat later.
During the talk segment, the MC asks Donghyuck if he’s enjoying himself.The crowd roars as his face is projected on the massive screens, heightening the giddy euphoria thrumming in his veins.
“Oh yes,” Donghyuck smiles brightly. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
.
.
It almost becomes a routine.
Find the right time, slip the word in, gauge Mark’s reaction discreetly if he’s brave enough to linger. For the most part, after the initial deer-in-headlights expression, it’s all dark looks and clenched jaws that makes something stir low in Donghyuck's belly.
And yet, they don’t talk about it.
“How is that possible?” Jaemin demands. “Do you not acknowledge each other at home? Or do you just not fuck?”
“I don’t bring it up at home. It feels mean to corner him when he’s trying to rest,” Donghyuck pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. They’re between meetings, and when Jaemin had announced he was going to the cafe, Donghyuck followed to stretch his legs.
“You didn’t answer my last question,” Jaemin observes.
When Donghyuck keeps his silence, Jaemin turns to stare.
“You’re joking.”
“We don’t have the time, okay,” Donghyuck defends, his cheeks burning. “And anyway, I’m not going to spring it on him during sex, are you insane?”
“Why would it be insane?” Jaemin raises his eyebrows, his eyes dramatically wide. “It’s a sexual thing, to be used during sexual intercourse. Of all people, I never expected to have to teach you about being more direct.”
Donghyuck shakes his head.
“The point is he knows what I’m doing, and I know he knows. It’s a matter of waiting him out. He’s cagey until he isn’t.”
“What a tedious process,” Jaemin concludes. “You’re both so complicated. Good luck, I guess.”
.
.
Mark cracks two weeks later.
“Haechan,” Mark says under his breath, gripping Donghyuck’s wrist before he can move away. “What– what are you doing?”
“Hmm?” Donghyuck answers pleasantly, like he didn’t just press against Mark in the middle of the practice room to murmur, “nice shirt, daddy”.
“Don’t play dumb,” Mark hisses. “Is this a game?”
“It’s exposure therapy,” Donghyuck says simply. With his free hand, he pries Mark’s fingers off his wrist.
“Why?”
“If you’re asking me why, it means you’re not ready to talk about it,” Donghyuck points out.
Mark’s answering expression of kittenish betrayal is endearing. Donghyuck reaches to put a fond hand on his cheek.
“You’re being so persistent,” Mark mutters in a tone of resignation.
“You’re overthinking,” Donghyuck returns. “Stop overthinking. It’s just me.”
Mark exhales.
He darts his eyes to the cameras around the room, checking that they’re turned off, before giving in; turning his face into the heat of Donghyuck’s palm and closing his eyes. Donghyuck runs his thumb along his cheekbones. The world around them fades into the background for a few precious seconds.
When Mark steps away, something in his eyes has shifted.
“You’re exhausting,” he says, but there’s no heat behind his words.
“Being perceived is a tiring venture,” Donghyuck agrees, smiling when Mark clicks his tongue in faux annoyance.
It’s progress.
.
.
Still, when Mark really gives in, it surprises even Donghyuck himself.
They’re given a day off, – a real one, with no overlap of 127 activities or practice– for the first time in six months. Their schedule the day before ends at 2am, but Donghyuck counts his blessings.
It’s exhausted delirium and habit that prompts him to slip up by the time their manager brings their car around, his words coming out louder than intended as he picks up his shoulder bag – “Come on Daddy, let’s go.”
A hush that he takes too long to notice falls over the room. When he looks up, everyone is staring at him. The slow realisation of what he just said spreads like ice in his veins.
The only thing Mark hates more than having to do things he’s not prepared for, is people knowing his business. It’s the control freak in him. Donghyuck’s stomach sinks.
From somewhere, there’s a mocking “oh?” that can only be Jaemin, but Donghyuck ignores it in favour of staring across the room helplessly.
Mark is sitting sprawled out on the ground, looking back at him with dark eyes, his lips a flat line.
Donghyuck panics. Should he laugh it off? Or maybe apologise, though it’d look fucking weird, and probably incriminate them further–
Mark stands, his expression shifting back to something neutral faster than Donghyuck can blink.
“Sure, baby,” he replies easily, and picks his things up off the sofa.
Pause.
“Wow, wow,” Chenle interjects. “Is this a kink thing? Or are we just calling each other that now?”
“It’s a kink thing,” Jaemin confirms.
“Goodnight guys,” Mark says casually, before herding Donghyuck, still frozen, out the door with a hand on his back.
.
.
The car ride is entirely silent.
Donghyuck sits and stares at Mark the whole time, confused and terrified at the way he doesn’t react or look at Donghyuck once, simply relaxing against the seat and scrolling through his phone. The silence persists even when they get home, Mark punching the keycode in and holding the door for Donghyuck to enter first, before disappearing into the shower once he takes off his shoes.
Donghyuck finally cracks when they get in bed.
“What are you doing?” Donghyuck demands, leaning against the headboard to watch Mark lean over his bedside table to charge his phone. “Is this some sort of punishment?”
“Why would I need to punish you?” Mark asks evenly, still turned away.
“What else could this be?” Donghyuck snaps. “I fucked up, okay, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”
“I don’t know, is it?”
“Put me out of my fucking misery, Mark Lee, I’m about to lose my shit.”
“And I’m ,” Mark pauses, shifting lower on the bed so that he can lie down and pull the duvet up to his neck, “about to go to sleep. Goodnight.”
“Are you serious?” Donghyuck asks, staring down at him. Mark closes his eyes, turning his face away. There’s an unmistakeable curve at the corner of his lips. “You’re serious. I hate you.”
Donghyuck gives it another minute of checking to see if Mark really doesn’t move before admitting incredulous defeat. He turns to the side to turn off the little night light on his table, before laying down too.
Staring up into the darkness, Donghyuck threatens, “I’m gonna get you tomorrow.”
Mark reaches over to pat Donghyuck on the face, which is probably not what he was going for, but it’s hard to tell.
“Not if I get you first.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Just go to sleep, Haechan-ah.”
Still furious, Donghyuck does.
.
.
Donghyuck didn’t think this is what Mark meant when he wakes up hours later: sleep shorts missing, his legs thrown over Mark’s shoulders, getting eaten out.
“What-mmph,” Donghyuck croaks, his voice cracking on a whine right after. “ Ma-ark.”
He jerks his hips helplessly towards the wet heat, a hand finding its way to the long blonde hair between his thighs. Mark doesn’t falter, and Donghyuck feels saliva pool on the sheets under his ass.
“I thought– we were fighting,” Donghyuck moans around the words.
He feels Mark place a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his rim before pulling back, propping himself up on his arms to look at Donghyuck with slick lips and bright eyes.
“Is that what you’d rather be doing?” Mark hums. One of his hands comes off the mattress to grip Donghyuck’s thigh, his nails digging into the meat. “I was going to fuck you until you’re nice and quiet, but we can stop.”
Donghyuck shivers.
“No no, what do I know,” he blabbers. “Don’t listen to me.”
Mark grins, and he looks so fucking handsome in the pale morning sunshine that it makes Donghyuck’s head spin.
The lingering disbelief that Mark would let him off so easily evaporates when he moves back down to lick into him again, and Donghyuck throws his arm over his face, eagerly welcoming the buzzing static back into his brain.
Mark keeps working him open with his tongue and two fingers with the kind of firm, dizzying focus that makes Donghyuck squirm, but every time he shifts away, Mark’s hands come up to circle around his thighs and pull him back down. It’s filthy, the sensations so intense, and Mark keeps making obscene sounds as he kisses open-mouthed along Donghyuck’s hole, so it’s to no surprise when Donghyuck feels warm tears start to pool in the corners of his eyes, dampening the skin on the back of his arm. He doesn’t bother wiping them away, knowing full well there’ll be more to come, and lets his mind slip away.
After what feels like hours, Mark gently grabs Donghyuck’s wrist and guides it away from his face.
“You okay?”
Donghyuck just looks up at him blankly. Mark thumbs at the tear tracks along Donghyuck’s temples as he smiles.
“It’s been too long, huh? You’re so sensitive now.”
Donghyuck sniffles, and Mark looks at him with affection, leaning down to kiss his shoulder.
“Let’s take a break, you’re quiet enough,” Mark decides, starting to shift from his kneel between Donghyuck’s legs back to his side of the bed.
Immediately, Donghyuck lets loose a desperate sound, and he grabs Mark’s forearm to stop him from moving further away.
Mark looks back at him.
“What is it?” He asks.
Donghyuck tries to glare, despite the haziness enveloping his senses. He doesn’t talk during sex. Can’t. And Mark knows that. He said it himself, didn’t he? Why would he ask such a stupid open-ended question?
Despite his best efforts to convey all of this with his eyes, Mark doesn’t appear to understand him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again.
Donghyuck sucks in a breath, summoning strength to speak. “No.”
Well. He tried.
“No?” Mark repeats. “No break? You wanna keep going?”
Donghyuck nods fervently.
“I don’t know, baby.”
Donghyuck huffs. He tugs at Mark’s arm until he bends down, low enough for a kiss.
“Please,” Donghyuck breathes against his lips, still wet and slightly swollen.
From this close, Donghyuck can see the way Mark’s eyes darken. Triumph fills his chest, and he revels in the excitement of getting what he wants.
Except. Mark pauses for a long time, and Donghyuck can tell that he’s thinking. When he finally replies, his voice is gravelly and close to Donghyuck’s ear, making him shiver.
“Please who?”
Donghyuck freezes.
Oh. This motherfucker.
It takes him a few tries to scramble for the right words, his hands coming up to shove at Mark’s chest.
“You– asshole. Go away.”
Mark rolls onto him, pinning Donghyuck down with his full body weight.
“That’s not very nice,” he says, voice still pitched low.
“You’re gonna bring it up now? ” Donghyuck seethes.
He knew it. He fucking knew it. Mark has never let go of a grudge in his life.
“I can’t think of a better time, honestly,” Mark replies. “Definitely more appropriate than all the other times you’ve been springing it on me.”
“You want to fight about this in the middle of sex? Are you serious?”
“Who says we’re fighting,” Mark raises his eyebrows. “I’m just playing along for once.”
Donghyuck turns his head to the side, stubbornly scowling at their bedroom door instead. Mark’s amused exhale puffs warm on his exposed throat.
“Baby.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
Mark’s quiet for a moment.
Then he moves away, to the foot of the bed, rifling for something through the sheets.
Donghyuck forces himself not to look.
He goes rigid when there’s the unmistakeable sound of a plastic cap being flicked open. From the corner of his vision, he sees Mark toss a bottle back onto the mattress, his right hand covered in something thick and clear.
“What are you doing?” Donghyuck blurts out.
“You wanted to keep going,” Mark replies. “So that’s what we’re doing.”
Donghyuck narrows his eyes, but doesn’t stop Mark from settling back between his legs, bracing himself for the familiar initial shock of the cold lube.
He blinks when Mark brings his hand to his own cock instead, giving it a few leisurely tugs.
“You’re not going to…” Donghyuck trails off to swallow hard.
“I’ll give you my fingers if you ask for it,” Mark says. “But I think I loosened you up enough earlier. Your hole looks very pretty, I wish you could see it. What do you think?”
They haven’t done this in a long time. The thought of it sends a jolt of arousal straight to Donghyuck’s cock, where it twitches against his belly.
“I’ll need an answer,” Mark says patiently.
“Yes,” Donghyuck grits out.
Mark grins. He shifts forward to spread Donghyuck’s thighs, who doesn’t realise that he’s holding his breath, until Mark points it out.
“I know you’re mad, but you need to relax before you hurt yourself,” he says, lining himself up.
Donghyuck rolls his eyes for show, but still lets the air out of his lungs in a slow, shaky exhale as Mark sinks into him.
Donghyuck feels the stretch instantly, a choked noise being forced out of his throat from the unforgiving slide, and Mark groans softly.
“There you go, baby,” he says. “Don’t clench. That’s so good.”
The praise tugs something loose in Donghyuck, making him melt further into the bed. Suddenly, he doesn’t remember what he’s angry about anymore.
Mark pulls back slightly, then rocks forward, deeper. “Yeah gorgeous, look at you.”
Donghyuck is shaking by the time Mark pushes in to the hilt, feeling his hole clutch desperately around the hard, insistent press of Mark’s cock. He lets out a quiet whimper, and Mark grips his waist with both hands, rubbing at the skin with his thumbs to soothe him.
Donghyuck barely has time to inhale before he draws back and fills him again; short, shallow thrusts to let Donghyuck get used to the intrusion. He dips his head down, and Donghyuck feels Mark’s lips trace along his cheekbones, mouth hot on his warm skin.
For a moment, it’s sweet.
Then Mark murmurs something that Donghyuck doesn’t catch before he pulls back almost completely and then slides back in all the way in one smooth thrust, so quick and deep that Donghyuck feels it in the back of his throat. The whine that comes out of him is high-pitched and desperate.
“You always sing so pretty for me in bed,” Mark says. “Better than any stage performance.”
From there, he picks up a relentless rhythm, hard and deep, making Donghyuck ache.
“Jesus, it’s so tight,” Mark hums, “Is this what you wanted, baby? To get fucked like this?”
Donghyuck keens, his brain too mushy to feel embarrassment.
“That’s what I thought,” Mark continues. “You listen so well when I’m inside you, don’t you? So quiet and well-behaved, just for me.”
He rolls his hips into Donghyuck harder, though his voice is still unaffected.
“And yet, you still won’t tell me what I want to hear.”
Donghyuck’s breath hitches, his heart pounding against his chest.
“Yeah honey, I’m not letting that go just yet,” Mark says, his gaze piercing. “If you start something, you have to finish it. You’ve been playing with me for four weeks. It’s my turn now, don’t you think?”
Donghyuck can see the trap open up before him, but it’s already too late. He closes his eyes, shutting out Mark’s stare.
He doesn’t expect Mark to pull out. The little mewl that he emits is pathetic even to his own ears.
“Kind of unfair that you get what you want, but I don’t, right? So I’ll wait.” Mark sits back on his haunches, but he reaches out to pet at Donghyuck’s hole, no doubt puffy and raw, with gentle fingers.
Donghyuck flinches at the feeling, but keeps his eyes shut.
“It’s not embarrassment, is it? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be baiting me this whole time at work, and in front of all our friends. So what is it? Spite? You want me to force it out of you?”
Donghyuck’s body seizes when Mark hook his finger into his hole, tugging at the oversensitive rim.
“I can do that, but why waste the time I can be using to fuck you if you just give in? Not very clever of you, Hyuckie.”
The use of the name that’s only ever used in their bedroom is such a low fucking blow. Donghyuck’s already conditioned to the sound of it, his body thrumming in anticipation.
“You know what I want to hear,” Mark says, soft and sinister, “Come on, baby. Let go.”
The coil in Donghyuck’s gut tightens dangerously. “Please,” he gasps, his eyes prickling with unshed tears. Whether it’s from embarrassment or horniness, he isn’t sure.
“Go on.”
Donghyuck’s lips tighten.
Mark shifts forward again, using the weeping tip of his cock to trace a line from Donghyuck’s perineum down to his hole.
“Hyuckie.”
“Daddy, please,” he caves, and something inside him finally settles the second he says the word.
Mark doesn’t waste any time, his fingers moving up to dig into the meat of Donghyuck’s waist as he shoves into him, hard enough that Donghyuck moves up the bed a little with a frantic sob.
“Good boy , Hyuckie,” Mark rasps. He moves back just enough to toss Donghyuck’s legs over his shoulders, bending him in half and shoving into him even deeper, the tip of his cock dragging along Donghyuck’s prostate over and over.
Donghyuck wails.
Mark just laughs breathlessly, fucking into him harder. Donghyuck clenches down tight around him.
“I’m– going to,” he gasps wetly.
“Hmm?” Mark answers, fingers digging into him hard, pushing him further into the mattress as his hips snap up into him. “Going to come on daddy’s cock?”
Heat jolts through Donghyuck as the full weight of his words hit him.
“Mark,” he chokes, trembling.
He only faintly recognises Mark’s hand moving to wrap around his cock, jerking him hard and fast, before he spills all over himself, mouth falling open in a soundless scream as Mark fucks him through it. Mark mouths at the edge of his jaw as Donghyuck spasms around his cock, pressing a kiss against his throat when Donghyuck finally sags into the sheets, panting and sensitive.
“Need a minute?” Mark stops moving, watching fondly as Donghyuck catches his breath.
“No,” Donghyuck manages. “Keep going.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm,” Donghyuck, jolting at the overstimulation when Mark shifts. “I like it.”
“I know you do,” Mark soothes. “Come here, then.”
Gently, Mark pulls him up, moving them until Donghyuck’s sitting in his lap, Mark’s back braced against the headboard. From this angle, it’s easier for Donghyuck to slide all the way down to the base of Mark’s cock, using gravity and Mark’s tight grip on the sides of his hips to move.
Each drag is like fireworks to Donghyuck’s senses, and he can’t help the little sobs that are punched out of him every time he bottoms out.
“So pretty, my little crybaby,” Mark murmurs, looking slightly up at him. “They should hang you up in a museum.”
Donghyuck moans, pitching forward to meet Mark’s lips.
“Daddy,” he whispers, “Daddy, please – inside –”
“Jesus, Hyuck,” Mark groans, licking into Donghyuck’s mouth. Donghyuck moves his hip in tight circles, grinding dirty on Mark’s cock until an arm wraps around his middle, holding him down as Mark finally comes, wet and warm inside of him.
They breathe each other in after, kissing languidly until Mark grimaces, petting at Donghyuck’s waist to get him to slide off his lap.
Donghyuck finds a drier part of the bed to lie on instead, curling up on his side in bone-deep exhaustion. He lets Mark pet his hair, his eyes slipping close.
“Are you okay?” He hears Mark ask.
Donghyuck nods vaguely. “Next time, can we try talking about our feelings instead of fucking it out? I’m exhausted.”
“But that’s half the fun. And you were just as uncooperative as I was, fyi.”
Donghyuck unwillingly agrees, then asks, “Are you still mad?”
“No. I mean, I’d prefer to go back to the time my business wasn’t broadcasted to my friends, but we’ve never been able to keep secrets from each other anyway.”
“They’ll forget about it soon,’ Donghyuck confirms. “And if they don’t, we’ll blackmail them back.”
“Yeah? Whose secrets do you know?”
Jaemin wants to fuck you. Not in the joking way.
Donghyuck pauses consideringly, then shrugs it off.
“I’ll tell you if we ever need it.”