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“Oh, oppa? You’re back already?” Mark pushed back his almost-dry hair with his fingers. He shuffles past Yuta, who’s seated at the end of his own bed and scrolling through his phone. “I thought you were gonna get drinks with Johnny hyung and Jaehyun hyung?”
“We have to get up early for the next stop, you think I wanna spend the trip hungover?” Yuta scrunches his nose, setting his phone down and yawning. “No thanks. That’s their problem.”
Mark just giggles, flinging back the sheets of his bed and jumping into its fluffiness. He immediately burrows into the marshmallow pillows, his voice is muffled as he says a simple, “Shower’s free.”
“Thanks, Markie,” Yuta gets up from the bed and stretches, leaving his phone on their shared bedside drawer. He watches Mark pull the covers over himself, past his head. “Don’t wait up for me.”
By the time Yuta’s out of the shower, hair still damp and droplets of water sliding down his bare collarbones, the hotel room was almost completely enveloped in darkness; the only source of light is the lamp between their beds. Mark is still under the bedsheets, hidden completely.
Yuta can’t help but ask, “You okay?” as he hangs his towel and slides in between his own blankets. God, the bed is so soft.
“Mhm,” The sheets ruffle, and Yuta assumes it’s Mark nodding his head. “I’m just really tired, oppa.”
“Okay,” Yuta says soothingly. His hand dances across the lamp’s light switch. “I’m turning the light off, yeah? Get some rest, baby.”
“T-Thank you, oppa,” Mark breathes out, and the black of night washes over them. Yuta grunts as he slides between the fluffy covers; his body practically sighs in relief. Yuta turns to face the wall, his back to Mark and his cheek squishing against the pillows. His only reply was a hum, eyes fluttering shut.
He hears shuffling coming from Mark’s side of the room. A little too much noise, if you ask him. Yuta speaks up with a groggy, “Mark? You good?”
“H-huh? Oh. Yeah,” Mark’s voice is a little muffled— probably by pillows. “I just… I needed to get comfortable.”
“Okay. Sleep well.” Yuta says before they fall into comfortable silence. He can feel the fog of sleep comfortably settle over him. At least, until he hears the rustling of the blankets once more.
“Mark,” Yuta mumbles, eyebrows furrowing together even as his eyes are still shut. He rolls onto his back. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” Mark sounds a little raspy, free of the pillows or blankets or whatever he managed to smother his voice with before. “I just— It’s hard to sleep. I’m just… trying to g-go to sleep.”
“Hmm,” Yuta mumbles, and that’s it. The room is silent once more, but it’s a little hard for Yuta to actually fall asleep— it’s because there’s faint squelching sounds. Very soft, but it’s there. And it’s coming from Mark’s side of the room. Again.
Now Yuta rarely gets angry; even less so when it comes to Mark. He likes Mark, after all; the group knows, and Czennies are aware of it, but he needs his sleep. And he can’t get any with... whatever the fuck is going on the other side of the room.
“Mark!” He groans, sitting up suddenly and almost swiping his phone off the bedside drawer in an attempt to find the light. “Really, what the hell is—”
There’s a click as the lamp comes on, and the first thing Yuta sees is the lone bead of sweat running down Mark’s red cheeks. Perhaps Yuta could convince himself that it’s just Mark feeling warm. But they’re in Japan. And it’s late at night. On the fifth of January.
“It’s…” Mark closes his eyes in shame. The blankets are hiding his body from the waist down, but it’s so obvious to the both of them that Mark has one leg bent up; the younger places it back down in a sorry attempt to save himself just a moment later. The rhythmic movement of the blankets stops as soon as Yuta’s eyes become laser-focused. He raises one hand while the other one is suspiciously kept under the sheets, a sign of surrender. “Hyung—”
“Are you seriously masturbating… now?" Yuta throws off the covers of his bed in disbelief. “Mark.”
Said man shivers. His eyes are still shut when he feels his own bed dip with added weight. Yuta’s voice is low, “Look at me.”
It takes a few seconds for Mark to gather bits of courage and crack his eyes open, a ghost of a smile on his face. It doesn’t go away even when he stutters over his words.
“Hyung,” Mark whispers, trembling. “I—”
“You couldn’t even wait for me to fall asleep?” Perhaps Mark was too slow for Yuta’s liking, because fingers grab Mark’s jaw and lift it up. The younger gulps, turning into jelly under Yuta’s dark gaze. “It’s almost like… you wanted me to know.”
Mark turns a dark red. There’s a bitten, shy smile on his lips. “Uh oh. You caught me.”
“Really?” Yuta sounds exasperated, but his fingers on Mark’s face are too heavy and his eyes are simmering with too much heat that Mark feels his cock, neglected, twitch. “You couldn’t have just… said something? You know, like a normal person?”
“Does it matter?” Mark fires back, whining. “It worked. Now you’re in my bed. And hard.”
Mark shifts his leg, using his knee to knead Yuta’s cock through the short shorts. The older jumps, hissing.
“Brat, ” Yuta mumbles, but he’s not really angry— they both know that. He’s not mad, judging by how the hand on Mark’s jaw glides away to cup at his cheek. Mark just leans into it, smiling like a cat that ate the canary. “What should I do with you?”
“Hyung,” Mark huffs, cheeks flushed like maraschino cherries. He gets demanding when he’s worked up, as he always does when with Yuta like this. Not like Yuta isn't into it. “Kiss me.”
Without another word, Yuta gives him what he wants. He likes Mark, after all. And what better way to show it than to indulge him? They take it slow, so soft and sweet that Mark is taken aback because the older’s eyes had promised him otherwise.
But Yuta has needs, too. His tone is mischievous and his smile is playful when he pulls back to remind Mark with a simple “Oppa,” before diving back in. Their kiss becomes frenzied, hurried. They don’t have forever, after all
“Hyu— oppa,” Mark breathes out when Yuta licks the swell of his bottom lip. He gets a little brave, leaning in so that he takes a cheeky swipe against Yuta’s tongue with his own. “Mmh…”
“Easy, baby,” Yuta chuckles, pulling back. He uses his thumb to wipe away a line of drool; they’ve gotten a little carried away just from kissing. “Condoms? Lube?”
“Lube is… it’s right here,” Mark’s fingers dance in the space beside him, pulling out a small bottle. “Condoms… They’re… in my—”
“You sure about this?” Yuta becomes serious, Mark knows. His pixie-ish tone and smug smile go down the drain. “Markie.”
“Oppa,” Mark mumbles, biting his lower lip swollen. He’s breathing a little heavily. “Oppa, need you s-so bad. I'm going to go fucking insane if you don't get your hands on me right now.”
“So good to me,” Yuta whispers, taking one of Mark’s hands and kissing it. “But… next time. We still have tomorrow’s concert. Can’t have you limping around, can we?”
“Next time,” Mark sighs, which dissipates into a little giggle. “Will oppa fuck me hard like… like that time in Osaka, two weeks ago? Your cum was dripping out of me even in the morning, fuck. Felt so full. Could barely walk after that, oppa—”
“Don’t say shit like that,” Yuta murmurs, flustered, as he lifts Mark’s knees and tugs his boxers down. “Someone’s getting a little bold.”
“Mhm, maybe just a little,” Mark sucks in a breath and spreads his legs a bit more. His cock rests against his stomach, red. He looks up through his lashes, There’s a ghost of a grin. “Fuck my thighs, oppa.”
Yuta pulls back, eyes wide. “H-huh?”
“My thighs,” Mark repeats, his lips are drawn up into a pout. “Fuck them.”
Yuta turns a slight pink, mumbling something under his breath. It’s in Japanese, but Mark can tell it’s full of profanities.
“It’s gonna be quick,” Mark whines under his breath, tugging Yuta so that he’s completely on the bed. Mark moans quietly in his ear. “I’m so fuckin’ hard, oppa. Gonna cum so quickly for you. Gonna make a huge mess all over myself.”
“I… Markie—” Yuta whispers, his silver hair such a pretty contrast to his pink face. Mark lets out a puff of air, pouting.
“Just fuck my thighs, oppa, come on!” Mark tugs on Yuta’s shirt insistently, letting one hand glide under the cloth to run across Yuta’s abs. He purrs, “Then we can sleep right after. Promise.”
“I think you said something along those lines before,” Yuta groans when he feels Mark tug his shorts down. He stumbles over his words when he feels Mark palm along his thigh. “In— fuck— In O-Osaka. You ended up—”
“You ended up fucking me ‘till four in the morning!” Mark playfully accuses. He noses at Yuta’s collarbone, a light frown on his face, the type that he knows would get Yuta to melt. It’s the complete opposite of his fake moans against Yuta’s skin. “Ah, oppa, you’re so deep, so good—”
He giggles drunkenly when he’s harshly pushed onto the bed, back softly hitting the pillows. Mark spreads his legs, voice a little high. “Oppa.”
“Shut up, Mark,” Yuta mumbles, cheeks now as red as tomatoes. He’s frantic as he removes his shirt, almost falling off the bed as he slides down his shorts. “Just… shut up. Okay? God, this is all your fault.”
“Come on, come on, give it to me,” Mark runs a hand through his hair before grabbing it, exhaling as he wiggles on the bed. “Want it now, oppa, give it to me—”
“Shush,” Yuta hisses, slapping a hand over Mark’s mouth. The latter jumps when he feels something hard against his thigh and the trail of sticky wetness it leaves behind, but he relaxes when Yuta uses another hand to slap his cock against his other thigh. “Hands and knees.”
Mark makes a show of moaning against his palm as Yuta pulls away, slowly shifting so that he’s lying on his side, then on his stomach. He slowly raises his hips; his shorts are already halfway down, and gravity just makes it slide to rest around his balls.
Is it uncomfortable? Hm, yeah. But it’s so, so worth it to hear Yuta swear under his breath.
“How tight, oppa?” Mark purrs, using one hand to slide the shorts down completely to expose his thighs. He rubs them together, tightening and relaxing; he even wiggles his hips and sticks his ass out, all to get a rise out of Yuta.
Behind Mark, there’s a grunt and the sound of a bottle cap being opened. “Spread your legs first.”
And like, Mark knows what kind of lube it is. It’s his favorite, the one he picks when he’s on the go, you know? The one that would give him stimulation in a pitch. Yuta knows which one. Still, the effects of the lube don’t work… at first.
“That’s cold,” Mark hisses, burying his face into the pillows. Yuta rubs the lube along his thighs, but they don’t help much; it just makes his thighs twitch more, from the slippery lube and the warm hands that massage his legs. Mark mumbles out a shaky, “Fuck.”
“You feel that?” Yuta whispers. Mark doesn’t know if it’s because night is naturally more quiet, or if the squelch of lube is just that fucking loud. Also, is it because it’s winter, or is the lube warming up that fast? Granted, it’s warming lube, but— “Squeeze your thighs together, babe. Let me feel that pussy.”
Mark squeaks, grabbing handfuls of his pillows as he obliges. His change of demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed, and Yuta clicks his tongue. “Oh, so now you choose to shut up?”
“Don’t call it a pussy,” Mark whines, biting his lip hard when he feels Yuta rub against his thighs. “It’s embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than the little stunt you pulled just now?” Yuta asks, but lets out a shaky sigh as he tries to slip between Mark’s thighs. “Fuck, loosen up a bit. ‘S too tight.”
“Too big,” Mark weakly retorts, but jolts when Yuta slides right between his thighs. “Oppa…”
There’s an airy moan, then a breathless, “Fuck, Markie. Almost feels like I’m actually fucking you.”
“Just do it already,” Mark huffs into the pillows, leaning into them. “Already softening up because you— gah!”
One of Mark’s hands burns as it zips through the mattress to hold a hand out behind him, and he’s feeling absolutely dizzy. Yuta thrusts back between his legs again, grabbing Mark’s hand to pin it down on the bed, and the latter yelps.
“This isn’t working,” Yuta groans, grabbing one pillow. “Don’t move unless I say so.”
Mark opens his mouth, either to ask what Yuta means or to be cheeky, but it’s too late. Yuta had slid the pillow underneath his hips, and shoved Mark down so that he’s laying on his stomach. The younger grunts, “Oof!”
“There,” Yuta growls, mounting Mark completely. He slides his cock between Mark’s thighs again, a faint slapping sound accompanying the movement. “God, it really does feel like your pussy.”
“I said—” Mark turns his head, but he moans when he feels Yuta fist his hair and tug at the green strands.
“And I said to not move,” Yuta spits, using another hand to squeeze Mark’s waist. He leans in close, voice as hot as it tickles Mark’s ear. “Fucking brat.”
Mark gets shoved up the bed from how hard Yuta forces his cock back between his thighs, and it makes him whimper every single time. The lube is too hot, Yuta’s cock is too hot, Yuta’s words are too—
“Too tight, baby. Almost like you’re trying to milk my cock,” Yuta snarls, leaving searing kisses down Mark’s neck, his words lingering ghosts. “So... fucking good, baby.”
“Oppa, no…” Mark whines, trying to clamp his legs together. “Wait, bad i-idea, no more… My thighs, they’re t-too—”
Yuta kneads one thigh, before slapping it. Mark manages to stifle his moan with the blankets.
“Oh, I know,” Yuta says smugly, spanking the other thigh until both are glistening with precum and lube, laughing when Mark throws his head back to moan low. Red as the lipstick the makeup noonas make Mark wear sometimes. “I know.”
Whatever protests, weak as they may be, die down as Yuta fucks Mark’s thighs. Yuta’s so big, looming over Mark and pinning him down. Making him take whatever is given to him, even if it means Mark can feel his brain rattling in his skull and making him feel light.
“Fuck me, oppa,” Mark cries softly as Yuta holds his hips firmly to rock him back down onto his cock. “Oppa, oppa, fuck me— Please, want you inside—”
“You want oppa to fuck you hard?” Yuta cuts him off. “When we were in Osaka… fuck, baby, you were acting like a bitch in heat. Bet the hotel heard you screaming for my cock. Is that what you are, Markie? Just a bitch?”
“Oppa,” Mark sobs into his fists, grinding against Yuta the best he can. His skin is tingling, stomach weighted with arousal. The room is filled with the absolutely filthy squelch of lube and the telltale noises of the mattress— a creaky fwop fwop fwop. “Oppa, ah, o-oppa!”
“You’re such a good girl, Markie,” Yuta sighs, rolling his hips to feel just how soft and tight and wet Mark is. God, Mark looks so small under him, broad shoulders revealing the dips and creases on his back, flushed red and covered in a thin layer of sweat. “I’m almost there. I’m pulling out, okay?”
“Wait, no,” Mark starts to protest. “No— don’t stop fucking me—”
“Shh, just wait,” Yuta murmurs, sitting up and guiding Mark’s thighs together, tight that there isn’t even a gap in between. Mark lays there, because of course he does. “Just stay like that.”
Yuta sits back on his heels, jerking himself off over Mark’s thighs. The sound of him fucking up into his fist is so wet, so scandalous to Mark’s red ears. “So perfect, Markie,” Yuta pants. He spanks Mark’s thighs again. “God, could fuck you all night.”
“My pussy, oppa,” Mark whimpers, using his hands to spread his cheeks. “Please…”
Yuta is a man of his word, cock not going even an inch closer; it’s too tempting, watching Mark’s hole wink at him. It’d be so easy to just give in, but they still have a concert to finish.
“Gonna cum,” Yuta moans, thumbing the slit of his cock and spreading the precum around the tip. Mark wiggles his ass, still trying to goad Yuta into sliding in. “Show off your pussy. Show your pretty pussy to oppa.”
Mark lets out a pleased, “Mhmm,” as he raises his hips, pushing back in an attempt to at least get the tip inside. Yuta relents— just a little. Mark moans, high in his throat, when he feels the head of Yuta’s cock slightly push in, just enough to spill his cum into his ass. Quite a bit dribbles out, sticky.
“Brat,” Yuta pants out, hips twitching. He wants so badly to fuck his cum back in, plug Mark up so the younger could feel it during rehearsals, but he manages to stop himself. “This is all because of… of you.”
“It’s dripping,” Mark mumbles in awe, “Oppa, the bed is gonna—”
Yuta doesn’t waste time, getting off Mark and leaning down. Mark makes a confused grunt, “Oppa…?”
At the first lick against his perineum, Mark sobs. He squirms and thrashes as Yuta cleans the mess up with his tongue; it’s only proper.
“Wait,” Mark pants, canting his hips back. “Oh my g-god, not…” He squeaks when he feels Yuta’s tongue dip into his hole, then trailing down one of his thighs. “Hng!”
It’s only when Mark starts trembling does Yuta pull away, slapping one thigh and then the other. “On your back.”
“W-What...?” Mark mumbles as Yuta gets off him completely, and it takes the younger an awfully long time to turn over and lay spread eagle on the bed. His eyes are closed, and he’s breathing hard. The blush has reached his neck. “I’m… I’m on my back n-now.”
He cracks an eye open when he hears a low and thoughtful hum, lifting his head up to see Yuta’s own head leaning down in between his legs. The sight makes something akin to an electric shock pierce Mark’s mind in an instant, and he scrambles to sit up. “W-Wait, hold on… Wait a mi—!”
Mark cries at the ceiling, hands twisting in Yuta’s hair as the latter takes him all the way without any difficulty. God, Mark swears he can feel Yuta’s nose against his crotch, and he kicks his feet lightly.
“Oppa, feels good,” He sobs, toes curling. Yuta just bobs his head enthusiastically, slurping sounds ringing through Mark’s ears. “Please, please, please, please—”
Yuta hums, swallowing around his cock as he traces a vein running along the side of it. He tightens his throat one more time because he knows how hard Mark can cum. Toes curling, thighs shaking; it’s like something out of porn, but better.
“Cummin’!” Mark yelps, eyes rolling back into his head as his whole body jerks. His hands tighten in Yuta’s hair and he arches his back, letting out one last, “Oppa!”
Yuta giggles, not even pulling away when Mark starts to cum down his throat. He swallows it all easily, pulling away with a single kiss to the tip of Mark’s cock. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, seeing how spent and breathless Mark is, sprawled on the bed. His shirt is so wrinkled, Yuta feels a bit sorry.
“C’mon,” He mumbles, helping Mark sit up— or rather, making Mark sit up; the younger is limp in his hold. Yuta lifts his arms and helps Mark out of his shirt. “Was it good?”
“Mhm,” Mark mumbles, slowly blinking to regain his focus. “Really good, thank you, oppa.”
Yuta smiles, letting the shirt fall to the ground. They can always clean up tomorrow. “Shower?”
“A quick one.” Mark whines. Yuta ruffles his hair.
“My bed?”
“Am little spoon.”
“Okay,” Yuta says, standing up. He runs a hand through his hair, then picks Mark up. He ignores the surprised squeak. “C’mon, you big baby.”
Mark cuddles against his chest, mumbling something under his breath. Yuta just coos, kissing Mark’s forehead. “That was just play, okay? You’re not a bitch, Markie. Or a brat.”
“I know,” Mark whispers, a small smile on his face. “I’m sorry for bein’ a brat, by the way.”
“Mhm, I know how to handle you though,” Yuta nibbles on Mark’s ear, making the latter smack his shoulder as Yuta carries him across the room. “It’s okay. It’s cute, anyway.”
“Hyung, shut up!” Mark whines, burying his face in Yuta’s shoulder as the bathroom door swings open. He feels Yuta’s chest rumble with laughter.
“Hyung?” Yuta teases, setting Mark down to turn on the shower. He checks the water’s temperature with a hand, back turned to Mark. “Just ‘hyung’?”
Mark’s voice is the description of pouty, “Yeah. Hyung.”
“What happened to calling me o—” Yuta turns and finds Mark’s lips against his own, and he instinctively kisses back. His hands travel to grip Mark’s waist as the latter tilts his head, humming.
“Oppa,” Mark mumbles only when he pulls away, cheeks flush and eyes still lingering on Yuta’s lips. “There. Are you happy?”
Yuta giggles, shaking his head in disbelief. He mumbles, “Very.”
“Well, good,” Mark pads past Yuta to get into the shower. He turns, biting his lip to hide his grin as his eyes shine; just the way he knows will get Yuta weak in the knees. “Wash my hair, please, oppa?”
Suffice to say that they only got a few hours of sleep that night. Nothing cups of coffee and naps during breaks can’t fix, but Yuta finds that pulling Mark into a janitor’s closet an hour before the concert, pulling down Mark's pants just enough to leave hickeys on his thighs is way more energizing than anything else; Mark’s moans just hits differently.
And if Mark feels his thighs up more often now… well, what people don’t know won’t hurt them.