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Mark cracks his neck in the corner of the set. He’s been sleeping funny, when he does sleep, that is. He opens his eyes and realizes Yuta has been staring at him from across the set. It’s not an intense stare or anything, just…observant Mark thinks. Yuta tips his head towards his right shoulder in a ‘you good?’ gesture. Mark nods almost imperceptibly and shakes his hands off his neck. The cameras are still rolling, even when they aren’t technically filming, and any tiredness will be blown up and looped a thousand times by fans. Then there’s a stern talking-to from management about camera personas and keeping human feelings like exhaustion to the five hours a day they aren’t being filmed from ten different angles.
But even as Mark plasters on an easy smile and slips deeper in the giggling, easy-going Mark Lee fans love and adore, the kink in his neck persists. No amount of subtle shoulder rolling loosens it. Mark’s considering texting the 10th floor group chat about being allowed to shower first but not be rushed when the director of whatever content they’ve been doing calls cut.
Several members aside from Mark immediately slump a little. The teams of managers and make-up noonas and techies descend like locusts and mics are unhooked and retrieved from shirts. Wipes are pressed into their hands and against their faces. Managers hand them brand new surgical masks and round them up. It’s complete chaos every time, no matter how many times they’ve gone through this exact routine in the past week alone.
In the middle of it all, Yuta presses up against Mark’s side, wrapping one arm snugly around Mark’s shoulder. “Sore?” Yuta asks lowly, ruffling Mark’s hair to dislodge it from the over-gelled style.
Mark nods. “My neck has been kinked up for a week. I’m starting to worry I’ll pull a muscle during practice.” It’s a serious concern. Tight muscles are difficult to warm up and easy to strain or sprain. The last thing Mark wants is a lecture about the proper procedure before dancing and taking better care of himself.
Yuta shifts his arm so that a hot palm presses against the base of Mark’s neck. He lets out a small sigh of relief as the warmth eased some of the soreness in the muscles. “Is the manager sleeping in your room tonight?” Yuta asks.
Mark shakes his head and leans a bit further into Yuta’s side. “No, he’s with his girlfriend tonight. Why?”
Yuta’s lips tug up into a smug grin. “I’ll come by your room tonight then. Rub you out,” Yuta winks and pulls his hand off of Mark’s neck and slips away before Mark can splutter out an answer. Oh boy.
Mark’s nervous the entire drive home. He and Yuta are in separate vans, which is likely for the best because Mark can’t stop thinking about Yuta’s words. Surely he didn’t mean what it sounded like? Members help each other stretch and massage out tense and sore muscles all the time. Yuta’s always pulling shit, spreading rumors and making stuff up with the largest, most shit-eating grin—especially on camera. He was just doing the same thing now, right? Of course.
Mark’s anxiety must show on his face because Taeyong gives him concerned puppy eyes halfway through the drive back to the dorms and pats his knee in encouragement. He moves on autopilot through dinner and his nightly routine. He showers quickly but very thoroughly. Just in case. He’s laying on his bed scrolling through instagram in old basketball shorts and the t-shirt Johnny bought him in Vancouver when there’s a pointed, but gentle, knock at his door.
“Yeah, come in,” Mark calls out. The door pushes open slowly, revealing Yuta in all his bare-faced, muscle-tank glory. He’s wearing the loosest pair of joggers Mark has ever seen and they ride low. So low that there is a strip of skin between the hem of Yuta’s tank and the waistband. A strip that is cut off by the Calvin Klein branded waist of Yuta’s boxer briefs. Mark has to consciously swallow in fear he might start drooling.
Yuta raises a pointed brow and Mark knows his staring has been caught. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and Yuta steps into his room properly, shutting the door behind him. There’s a pregnant pause before a soft click echoes in the silence of the room. Mark realizes slowly Yuta locked the door. Yuta locked the door. Mark’s brain is slowly fizzing out of his ears.
“So your neck still hurts?” Yuta asks as he pads over to Mark’s bed. Mark finally picks up on the bottle in Yuta’s left hand, small and made of dark amber glass. He also has a satiny bag with a large object inside of it. Yuta has nice hands. They look strong and his fingers are so deft. Mark yanks his gaze up to Yuta’s face, blush likely burning bright red across his whole face. If Yuta couldn’t read his mind before he definitely can now.
“Uh, yeah. I keep sleeping in the worst positions.” Mark answers. Yuta hums.
“It happens sometimes. Have you been taking your herbal sleeping medicine?” Mark is surprised Yuta even remembers what all his different traditional remedies are for, what each bottle his mom sends is supposed to cure.
“I take it sometimes. We’ve been working so hard these days that I haven’t needed them as much, I just collapse every night.” Mark admits.
“Mhmm, it’s been a lot for you recently huh? Between superm and dream and us?” Yuta’s questions don’t sound bitter or resentful. Mark sometimes worries that all his less-casted bandmates hate him, that they hope he has exhaustion and pain to balance out the company’s blatant favoritism. It’s his deepest, darkest fear; shared only once with Ten in an empty green room in the liminal space after a concert.
Yuta coughs and Mark is pulled out of his thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m— it’s been a lot. Yeah. And I know it’ll help, even if it seems foolish but I just haven’t had the energy to keep it up.”
Yuta nods. “I get it. Taeil got me into some new-age stuff, remember that store we went into when we were visiting New York?” Mark tilts his head.
“Yeah, a few blocks down from that place in Brooklyn,” Mark remembers the shop decently well. Hyuck had insisted they go in before heading to the grocery store, and the owners didn’t want all the cameras so they got a desperately needed break from performing. They all browsed around, Mark even bought a bracelet that was supposed to increase self-love and peace. Taeil and Yuta had gone back later, but on their own and never showed off their purchases. Mark couldn’t figure out why Yuta was bringing it up now.
His confusion must show on his face because Yuta chuckles and waves the bottles of oil in front of Mark’s face teasingly. “I picked these up there. One is for de-stressing and the other is for blood flow.” Yuta sets the bottles and bag on Mark’s bedside table, next to his glasses and extra guitar picks. “Just take your shirt and shorts off and lie down, let me do all the work.”
Mark balks at the instructions, eyes still fixed on the bottles on his nightstand. He blinks hard and stares up at Yuta. Yuta makes a ‘go on’ gesture with his hand, one eyebrow raised. “Are you going to get on with it or do you need me to do it?” Mark blinks slowly.
“N-no, I can take my own pants off.”
“Good boy,” Yuta smirks. Mark fights down the weird storm of butterflies that take flight in his chest cavity at that. Mark quickly shoves down his shorts in one go, and paused with his hands on the hem of his shirt. He glances up at Yuta, and when he receives a nod that goes off onto the floor too. It would be more intimidating, Mark thinks, if Yuta’s clothes covered more of him, but his tank top reveals most of his chest and abdomen with every move and breath and Mark feels less exposed in front of his bandmate.
“Do you have a towel or something?” Yuta asks, glancing around Mark’s half of the room. Mark raises a brow.
“What for?” He reaches for his used shower towel hanging off a peg near the foot of his bed. Reaching for it places him firmly in Yuta’s personal space, and Mark feels a little like he’s danced too close to predatory jaws.
“Well I have all this oil to massage you with and I don’t necessarily want to get it all over your sheets, Mark.” Yuta answers deadpan. Mark nods quickly, feeling heat creep up his beck to stain his cheeks red.
“Oh yes of course, that’s really considerate,” Mark comments, laying the towel out beneath himself. He’s on his knees and he flounders as he contemplates how to lie down. Should he be on his stomach? Or is that too presumptuous? Yuta chuckles and Mark has a sneaking suspicion his worries were written across his face. The members often tease him for how easy his is to read, emotions reflected clearly in his eyes.
“Lie down on your front, Mark. And let hyung take care of you.” Yuta says, placing a hot palm in between Mark’s shoulder blades. Once Mark is prone on the bed, Yuta takes one of Mark’s pillows and props is under the towel and his chest, so Mark can comfortably lie with his forehead against the mattress without squishing his face. It’s nice to just lie like this and he already feels more relaxed, until he feels the mattress dip and a solid weight settles against his thighs.
His heart rate kicks up again, Yuta’s ass firmly pressed against the back of his knees and his pelvis just barely brushing the swell of his own ass. Mark feels his legs and lower back tense up in response at the implications of the position. Yuta is shuffling around, getting comfortable and reaching over Mark’s back to grab the oils and the bag he’s left on Mark’s bedside table. Mark can hear the crack of an oil bottle opening, the foil top grinding as Yuta twists it off. There’s a moment of silence and then the slick sound of Yuta rubbing his palms together.
Mark jumps at the first touch of fingertips to his back. “Shhhh,” Yuta soothes, making a heavy-handed pass from the base of his neck all the way down his back. The oil is warm as Yuta uses broad strokes of his hands to smooth the oil across his skin. Yuta begins to focus his efforts on Mark’s upper back and Mark sinks into the bed. His eyes close and he lets himself melt and Yuta rubs firmly up and down his back and shoulders, fingers digging into the knots he comes across. Mark can’t remember the last time he felt this loose, it’s been far too long since he’s been able to visit the massage therapist the company keeps on retainer.
As Yuta works Mark feels his eyes drifting closed and mind settling. Yuta hums under his breath as he works and the continual sounds and touches along his back relax him enough to start dozing off. It’s been a long time since Mark has felt so at ease, his breathing deep and heartbeat slow. Even as he recognizes Yuta’s hands straying from his neck and upper back to massage lower, he remains entranced by the smell of the oil. Yuta shifts lower on Mark’s legs gently to gain better leverage and Mark hums in content.
He’s most of the way asleep when Yuta moves to massage his thighs. He blinks tiredly, making a small noise of confusion. Before he can lift himself up Yuta is pressing him back down onto the bed.
“Shhhh, relax,” he says, voice low and rumbling. “I’m already here, let me make you feel good.” Yuta continues, realigning his hand with the oils. The sweet scent fills the air again and Mark exhales deeply, trying to regain his relaxed state. Yuta’s hands are just as skilled as before as they press into the meat of Mark’s thighs. He wasn’t even aware of how tense his legs were until Yuta is digging the heel of his palm along Mark’s hamstring and he can feel the soreness release into something softer. Distantly, Mark wonders if he’ll be more flexible tomorrow. Ten swears by leg massages—gets them routinely—and whenever he’s asked how he maintains his splits he cites their masseuse.
Mark slips deeper into dreamland as Yuta works his way up his thighs. He doesn’t quite register the feeling of fabric being lifted as Yuta’s lovely fingers slip under the fabric of his boxers and into the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. He simply feels good. Sleepier than expected for this time of night, and every inhale of the oil-scented air makes him drowsier.
Mark can feel pressure against the crease of his thigh where his ass meets his legs, but he’s drowsy enough that it doesn’t bother him. Mark groans into the bedding as he feels hot hands knead his upper thighs, and he spreads them slightly. Yuta hums, a pleased sound, and Mark realizes he’s hard. He wakes up a little as he feels one of Yuta’s hands grabbing his ass, the other is digging around on the bed for the cloth bag.
“Yuta hyung?” Mark makes a noise of confusion and he tries to sit up. Yuta’s hand presses firmly on his back, pinning him to the bed.
“It’s okay, Markie, I’m just going to use some acupuncture techniques to realign your chakra,” Yuta says confidently, and Mark can hear more oil being poured onto his hands. Yuta’s clean hand tugs at the waistband of Mark’s boxers until they are most of the way down his legs. Mark’s wary as his chest is pressed further into the pillow as Yuta removes his boxers completely and spreads his thighs with a slick palm. He squirms a little and Yuta shushes him again, fingers teasing along his taint.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asks, voice thin. What Yuta’s doing feels good but Mark is unsure how this will help his neck.
“Of course I do. If your whole body is relaxed, your neck will be too. Treat the root cause of the problem, not just the symptoms.” Yuta answers as an oily finger circles Mark’s entrance. The logic is sound if reaching a little. Mark tries to unclench and sends up a prayer that he showered so thoroughly earlier. Yuta’s fingers feel nice, the constant pressure keeping him on the right side of on edge.
Yuta fingers him open slowly, working in each knuckle of his middle finger individually and keeping a close eye on Mark’s reactions. It might be the only time he’s ever been fingered and didn’t feel even a little bit of the stretch. Every once in a while Yuta’s other hand rubs up and down his back or legs, keeping him lax and calm. Then he works in a second finger, with the same care as the first. Mark can feel himself growing hard, blood circulating easily to his dick and it takes a great deal of effort not to rut down onto the pillow beneath his hips. The edge of the pillowcase teases the sensitive head and as Mark gets harder the sensation becomes increasingly intense.
When he is comfortably stretched around Yuta’s two fingers and Yuta has been skirting around his prostate for what feels like hours his hand retreats. Mark doesn’t even move, the air thick with the scent of rose and something else…it’s headier than chamomile but not as spicy as ginger. He can hear the soft rustle of the velvet bag Yuta has brought and the increasingly familiar sound of oil slicking something up. Yuta rubs his left hand up and down the back of Mark’s left thigh, spreading his legs just a little more. Mark fights the urge to tense in anticipation of what’s to come next. Yuta has yet to do anything that didn’t feel good, he trusts whatever comes next will too.
A cool, blunt pressure against his entrance nearly startled Mark. Yuta circles the item slowly, around and around where Mark wants it the most. The surface is smooth and slick and the longer it’s in contact with Mark’s skin it heats up. The tip presses gently into Mark’s hole and he gasps, legs twitching. Yuta sorties a hand down his thigh.
“It’s okay, relax.” Mark nods weakly. The sensation is unique, different from a cock. It’s too cold, too smooth, too even. A shiver runs up Mark’s spine. The object pushes in a little further and Mark can feel the diameter flare out wider. He moans into the bed and Yuta’s satisfaction is almost palpable.
“What— mmm” Mark begins before Yuta pulls the object, dildo, out and interrupts Mark’s train of thought. The fog in his head is lifting slowly.
“It’s a rose quartz yoni wand,” Yuta explains as he slides it home. “It will activate inner healing.”
Mark breathes out a laugh and clenches down on the crystal wand when it brushes against his prostate. Yuta hums thoughtfully and then glances the tip of the wand firmly past Mark’s prostate. Mark moans, loud and unbridled. The room is strangely quiet afterward and Mark bites the pillow in embarrassment. There’s no way the other members on their floor missed that. A considering hum and then, “Maybe a different approach will relax you deeply.” It’s the only warning Mark gets before Yuta fucks the wand into Mark, almost mean, like he is trying to wrench all the moans and whimpers from Mark he can.
“I should make you chant a mantra,” Yuta comments, sounding almost unaffected. “Of course you’d have to keep saying it correctly,” he punctuates the words with a thrust. “Not sure you can even say my name right now,” Yuta finishes with a smirk. Another harsh thrust with the wand and little ‘ah-ahs’ fall from Mark’s lips. He’s fucking back into, working his back and thighs to meet Yuta’s thrusts. The motion grinds his leaking cock into the pillow under him and Mark can feel the familiar burning build of release gathering in his core.
“Close, oppa,” Mark whines out, hips desperately kicking back into Yuta. Yuta’s thrusts increase in strength but slow down to deep, filthy grind. Each one hits exactly where Mark wants it and he gets into a rhythm of fucking back onto the wand and rocking forward against the pillow. Everything is too much, the heady floral scent of the oil, the heat of the room, the pleasure sparking up every nerve and overwhelming his mind.
Mark comes with a frantic cry of “oppa” and spills into the pillow. The world goes white behind his eyes as Yuta works him through it, milking every drop of cum out of him. Mark is just edging into oversensitivity when Yuta pulls the wand out and drops it on the sheets. Mark’s still coming back to his body but he hears the rustle of fabric, the slick of oil, and then Yuta panting, hot against his neck, as he jerks himself off.
Yuta’s pace is frantic and Mark can hear the slick twist as Yuta fists the head of his own cock. Mark can’t do much except pant against the bed. Yuta comes with a guttural groan and hot splashes of cum all over Mark’s ass. He fucks the tips into Mark shallowly as he works himself through it, and Mark whines at the sensation.
They pause, Yuta panting over Mark like an animal after the hunt, prey caught under them. They stay that way until all the dried cum itches something fierce and Mark feels like maybe he has control over his limbs.
“Yuta hyung?” Mark asks and Yuta startles slightly. He climbs off of Mark’s legs silently and Mark unsticks himself from the pillow and turns around. Yuta’s only got his pants tugged down, but is otherwise fully clothed. A hot flash of shame burns through Mark at his own neediness. Yuta’s cheeks are flushed and hair in disarray. Mark wonders distantly how bad his own sex hair is. They lock eyes and just breathe for a few moments before Yuta grins and slaps Mark’s thigh gently.
“Let’s get you off that pillow, it’s ruined,” Yuta says softly and Mark grimaces.
“Dude,” he complains. “You’re buying me another pillow. I liked that one.” Mark pouts. Yuta chuckles and nods.
“Fine, fine. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He gets off the bed and uses the edge of his tank top to wipe his dick down before pulling his pants up. He slips out of Mark’s room and returns a few seconds later with a damp washcloth. The perks of rooming next to the bathroom. As he’s wiping Mark’s stomach and thighs down he looks down at Mark's face. “So, how does your neck feel?”
Mark takes stock of himself, and despite some lingering soreness in his lower back, he actually feels much better. Looser. He says as much and Yuta grins something fierce.
“Then my work here is done!” he crows and Mark rolls his eyes and slaps Yuta’s abs. Yuta uses the same cloth to wipe off the yoni wand and put it back in its bag. The pillow, washcloth, and towel go straight onto the floor.
Mark pulls Yuta down the bed and wraps an arm over the other Man’s chest. “Yes, you did good. Now sleep, enjoy the last quiet we’ll get all week because we were definitely loud and Jaehyun has probably already texted the group chat.” Mark says and Yuta snorts before turning in Mark’s embrace to face him.
“Oh my god, I hadn’t even thought of that.” Mark laughs, bright, and holds Yuta a little tighter. They sit in comfortable silence up until their eyes close and off to dreamland they travel. Mark can’t remember the last time he’s felt so relaxed and at peace. Looks like Yuta was onto something with the crystal dildo.