Work Text:
Yuta was going to vibrate out of his skin, on god. It was 3:06 in the afternoon and Yuta was going to give up the ghost.
It started at 7:00 am when 127 was sat down in styling chairs to get ready for some American make-up brand’s shoot. After Dream’s and WayV’s success in marketing cosmetic lines and the wildly popular Nature Republic partnership, the higher-ups wanted 127 to do the same. Yuta’s chair was next to Mark’s this morning, the other boy mostly asleep as he sipped on his coffee in between bouts of the make-up artist packing on foundation and powder and blush and of course, lip tint. It’s what they were here to market, after all.
Yuta’s stylist has him close his eyes so she can apply some neutral eyeliner to his eyes. When he was a trainee this was always the worst part, waiting for the cold strokes of an eyeliner brush or the rough tug of a brush or pencil. Yuta’s eyes are sensitive and unlike Taeyong, who can sit still through anything if he wants, Yuta always has to redirect his squirming into clenched fists or wriggling toes. This time is no different, and Yuta breathes out a short sigh of relief when he’s directed to open his eyes.
The relief is cut short when his eyes flutter open to see Mark fucking Lee with one finger in his mouth, tucked between two perfectly painted lips. Yuta makes a sound not unlike a cat coughing up a hairball as he chokes on his own spit. The sound startles Mark, causing the boy to make eye contact with Yuta in the mirror. Eye contact as Mark slowly pulls the finger out of lips, leaving a ring of dusty rose around his index finger.
The stylist is already there with a makeup wipe, perfectly removing any traces of the cosmetic on Mark’s hand. Of course, Mark was just making sure there was no chance of getting product on his teeth. But holy fuck it looked so lewd . Mark always has this edge to his motions when he’s focused, and Yuta has no problems admitting that when Mark turns it on he’s outright sex on legs. Mark knows it, even if putting on the act embarrasses him to talk about later–especially on camera. Yuta swallows awkwardly as Mark quirks a filled-in eyebrow at Yuta’s strange behavior. However, before Mark can ask him about it, Yuta’s stylist is calling for his attention so she can line his lower lids. Looks like there is a higher power looking out for him after all. It’s a shame that he’s probably going to hell for all his thoughts.
It was naive to think that Mark would let it drop so easily. Yuta knows this, knows that Mark can’t stand unresolved anything . After his fight with Haechan in 2017 Mark is quick to resolve misunderstandings, even faster to ask and talk about actual issues. Yuta’s reaction earlier was unusual, he really should’ve expected this.
“This” being cornered by Mark behind the set in a dark, private corner while Johnny and Taeyong shoot their promos. It’s only been a few hours since shooting started but Mark seems hell-bent on getting Yuta half hard in his tight, white slacks through looks alone. Despite his best efforts to avoid being too close to Mark, every time Yuta looks over Mark is messing with his lipstick, cleaning up the edges with his thumb, chewing on his lips, licking them. Yuta is convinced it’s on purpose, but he can’t fathom why . It’s not like members don’t sleep around sometimes. Despite the whole ‘don’t shit where you eat’ mentality most idols subscribe to, finding other people to take the edge off with is simply too complicated, especially with new restrictions for covid.
Even before the world turned upside down most of the guys preferred to keep things in-house anyways. So it wouldn’t be unheard of for Mark to be purposefully teasing Yuta. But it’s not how Mark rolls, at least not from what Yuta’s observed. He’s usually clingy and a little giggly. He turns the big puppy eyes onto whoever he wants more attention from, like Johnny. Sometimes soft and sweet, other times he’s pinching cheeks and teasing like he does with Haechan and Jungwoo. Mark Lee contains multitudes, but Yuta has never seen him outright flirt , least of all on set.
Yuta blinks hard and forces himself to meet Mark’s eyes. The corner they are tucked in is well out of sight of any member or staff and it feels almost intimate with the faint golden glow of the lights filtering through the backdrop paper.
“What’s up?” Yuta asks, speaking for the first time since Mark grabbed his elbow and led him to their little area, no words needed.
“You seem weird oppa,” Mark starts, lips quirking up in a smirk. “Have I done something wrong?” Whoever taught Mark to do puppy eyes needs to be punished. And not in a sexy way.
Yuta clears his throat and forces his eyes to stay on Mark’s. “You haven’t done anything, I’m just, uh, distracted,” he tries to explain his odd behavior away. “Guess I got less sleep last night than I thought and I’m just zoning out, sorry if I worried you, Markie.”
Mark raises one thin brow, painted warmer to match his hair tone currently. “Really? Taeil said you went to bed early,” he challenges and Yuta blanches. Mark had asked ? What was he up to?
“What’s going on Mark?” Yuta sighs outs, shoulders slumping gently as all the pretense of being unaffected leaves him. Mark grins like he won.
“You were staring in the makeup studio this morning, oppa ,” Mark leans in closer to Yuta, his voice breathy. It makes the hairs on Yuta’s arms stand up and he feels an awful lot like a gazelle being stalked by a cheetah. “Did something catch your eye?”
Yuta swallows, and Mark is so close he must hear the click of his jaw as he does. “Your, uh, lip tint,” he grits out, eyes darting to anywhere but Mark’s lips. He settles on a small tuft of hair that has been artfully styled and sprayed away from Mark’s forehead into a perfect, darling curl. Almost like a little halo. They should've given him devil horns.
Mark just beams and Yuta knows now, as if he didn’t before, that this was all a plot by Mark to get something. Yuta isn’t sure what yet, but Mark is on the move. “Oh you do? I asked noona for it especially,” Mark shares. Yuta simply nods, scared to open his mouth for what might spill out if he does. “Do you wanna know why, hyung?”
Yuta nods again, but Mark isn’t satisfied with that answer. He raises a brow, remaining silent. The order to speak is clear and distantly Yuta wonders when their friendship had become this. When Mark stopped being the awkward teenager four years Yuta’s junior and became someone who was for all purposes an adult.
“Why Mark?” Yuta finally manages. He steels himself and meets Mark’s gaze. “Why did you ask the stylist to do a special lip color?”
“I saw it when they explained what we were advertising, I think the color suits me well. Know what it’s called?” Mark’s brow quirks up and his innocent smile turns vicious. Yuta’s stomach tightens in preparation for what Mark is about to say. He’s filming soon and doesn’t want the disappointed look he always gets when he’s obviously a little alert .
“No I don’t,” Yuta replies.
“It’s called ‘blowjob’,” Mark answers, and he wipes the corner of his mouth to show off the shimmery, pretty pink swatched onto his thumb. Yuta makes a strangled noise.
“Is it now?” Yuta manages to get out, and he tries to recall unsexy things. Choking on kimchi, walking in on Taeil and Jungwoo halfway to sex, their dorm auntie naked, literally anything.
It must not be the response Mark wants because he deflated slightly, a little bit of the shimmer of confidence and self-assurance disappears as Mark rubs his thumb into the opposite palm. The sudden change confuses Yuta, Mark had been so confident all morning. “Mark?” he asks. “Did I say something?”
Mark shakes his head violently, eyes snapping up to look at Yuta’s face. His stomach warms at the familiar wide-eyed Mark Lee expression. “No! Hyung, I was worried I…” Mark trails off for a second, glancing back down at his hands. “I thought maybe I came on too strong.”
Yuta reaches out to take Mark’s hands into his own. Yuta can feel the rough brush of calluses, all the hours Mark pours into playing his guitar reflected on his person. Mark glances back up at Yuta’s face. “Markie, you didn’t come on too strong, I wasn’t trying to turn you down, I promise,” Yuta says, and it occurs to him that the moment is surprisingly tender given how Mark’s corner ambush had started.
Mark’s eyes go all starry and cute. Ten and stan Twitter call them coochie eyes and they are all correct.
“You just seemed weirded out…” Mark says and Yuta tamps down the urge to coo.
“Mark, trust me, I was not weirded out,” Yuta starts. “You’re just really fucking hot, Mark, and I didn’t want to get a boner in front of everyone.” Yuta knows his ears are burning and a small part of him can’t believe he’s saying this out loud. The rest of him is wholly unsurprised.
Mark’s cheek color pink, even under all the foundation he has on. It’s cute, Yuta thinks, to see him flustered after all the flustering Mark has done to him today. But after a moment Mark’s smile goes sharp around the corners.
“So I’m getting to you, oppa?” Mark teases and Yuta rolls his eyes to disguise the flash of heat that sparks in his stomach.
“Yes, Mark. I take it you have an end game?” Yuta asks.
“Maybe,” Mark says. He takes a step closer to Yuta, eyes going a little dark. “I caught you staring this morning in make-up, and it seems like you might be a bit, oh, shall we say pent up?” Mark quips. Yuta can’t decide if he wants to shove Mark or pull him in by his collar.
Before Yuta can decide he hears his name being called out by a staff member. He shoots a meaningful look at Mark and hurriedly pulls his phone out of his back pocket. He shimmies past Mark and steps on to the set.
“Sorry photographer-nim, I was just checking my phone,” Yuta says, handing the device off to his manager and half-jogging onto the set to be ready. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Mark slip out of their little nook and quietly join Haechan and Taeil on the sidelines. Yuta sends a quick prayer that none of the million cameras caught them and then shuts his mind off, focusing on the directions from the photographer and the music they’re piping through the speakers.
The rest of the shoot is a blur. Yuta finishes relatively quickly and either he’s on a roll today for fitting the concept or the makeup company never intended to have many shots of him. Yuta pushes the thought aside and tries to keep his thoughts safe for work. Since he was, after all, still on the job. He gets pounced on by Haechan at some point, for a short joke of an interview and cute fan content. Yuta sighs audibly when he hears the final “cut!” and he can go back to the styling room to strip down to bare skin and his sweats.
He hasn’t by any means forgotten Mark’s flirting, the almost-confession of what they both want from later. It’s doubly hard to put it out of his mind when he sees Mark slip out of the green room first, nodding when their manager tells him to be at the vans in 20.
Yuta isn’t sure if he’s supposed to follow after Mark, if this is an invitation for a quickie. He still has to have the heaviest of his makeup wiped away and his wallet has disappeared somewhere.
It takes him 15 minutes to find it (stuffed into the back pocket of the jeans he was supposed to be wearing for the shoot before the stylist changed it last minute) and Taeyong is counting heads to go downstairs to the vans before Yuta can even think of sneaking off to find Mark. Yuta is glad for the paper mask covering his face once again, his pout at the thought of missing what could have been a quick and dirty affair in the studio’s closets is hidden to everyone but himself.
Everyone splits and piles into their vans. Johnny and Doyoung steal Mark before Yuta gets the chance to. Resigned to a ride home of social interactions and pointedly Not Thinking about Mark’s insinuations, Yuta climbs into the backseat of the van already occupied by Taeil, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun. Tenth floor van, he thinks to myself. Minus Mark, of course.
The car ride is a blur for Yuta, as he daydreams against the window about all the things he and Mark could get up to. Before he knows it they’re slowing to a stop outside the dorms and unloading with noises of relief that the day is done. Yuta catches a glimpse of Mark laughing at something Taeyong is saying to Doyoung and his heart warms a little before he catches sight of the color of Mark’s lips. Oh.
Yuta barely contains himself through the elevator ride to the tenth floor. Mark is right there , always hovering at the periphery of Yuta’s vision. He wants to pounce on Mark as soon as the doors ding open and they spill out into the hallway, but as Jaehyun unlocks the door he can smell food. It’s tantalizing, clearly homemade by the dorm auntie. Yuta has barely eaten all day and his stomach growls loud enough at the smell that Jungwoo sends him a look.
So despite the constant half-chub he’s sporting, Yuta washes his hands and then sits down at the kitchen table to scarf down rice and kimchi and jajangmyeon in record time. The table is silent overall, chatter overlooked in favor of stuffing themselves with the warm comfort food before collapsing into their respective beds. Or not-so-respective, as the case may be for some.
Yuta sure hopes to be included in that some.
The meal finishes quickly enough and their manager and the dorm auntie wave the boys off from helping with the dishes after Taeil almost drops two separate bowls in his exhaustion. They’d had an early start and had another tomorrow, getting in bed was for the best of everyone.
Their manager pulls Mark aside as the other members disperse around the suite or wait for a bathroom to open up. Yuta lingers in the living space as long as he can, slouching against the wall and flicking through social media on his phone. Instagram isn’t as easy to keep scrolling through fan comments forever like Twitter is, but it’s still nice to see all the support on his latest radio program and selfies. Yuta glances over the top of his phone surreptitiously, and to his surprise their manager claps Mark on the shoulder before heading back to the entryway and pulling his coat on. Yuta lifts a hand in farewell as their manager gets his things together to leave and Yuta shifts his eyes back to Mark.
Mark is already staring at Yuta, his lips pulled into a smile, smug and satisfied. Yuta raises a brow and pushes off the wall to meet Mark in the corner of the living room. Man, they really have a thing for corners huh. Is Mark into voyeurism? Is that why he keeps giving Yuta bedroom eyes in not-so hidden spaces?
“Got your room to yourself, Markie?” Yuta asks, voice just low enough that whoever is on the other side of the wall can’t hear them. Mark’s gaze drops to Yuta’s lips and then flicks up to his eyes. He looks like he’s going to pounce.
“Yeah, oppa. He’s going to stay with his mom for a few nights, apparently she sprained her ankle.” Mark’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip and Yuta is helpless to follow the motion intently. Mark chuckles and takes a step back from Yuta, popping their little bubble of intimacy in the living room. “C’mon, let's go before he changes his mind.”
Following Mark down the hall to the last bedroom feels like taking the bait in an obvious trap. Yuta’s palms are starting to sweat and the half-chub from earlier in the day is making a reappearance. He watches Mark’s ass in his basketball shorts. They all joke that Mark’s got them all beat when it comes to assets, a juicy ass and depending on who you ask a big dick.
Mark pushes his door open and Yuta walks in behind him, letting the back of his hand brush against Mark’s hip as he slips past. It’s been a minute since he’s been in Mark’s room, usually the extra space in his bed is taken up by Jungwoo. But it looks the same as it always does. Mark’s guitar propped up against the wall, sheets barely straightened up, hoodies and gym shorts littering every available flat space.
Yuta wishes the silence in the room as Mark shut and locked his door was less thick, less expectant. This is Mark after all, no matter how coy and sexy he is. Besides Jungwoo hooked up with Mark a few times once they got closer and as his former roommate Yuta has heard all about it.
He clears his throat. “So, you seem to have a plan for the rest of the evening.” Mark pauses, eyes wide, before the smirk returns to his face and the mood shifts. There it is. Mark stalks towards him and Yuta relishes the feeling.
“There may be some thoughts I’ve had, seeing how enamored you are with this lip tint. It’s unusual, usually you’re a skincare only sort of man, oopa.”
A shiver runs down Yuta’s spine and he wriggles with it, shaking his shoulders out while never breaking eye contact with Mark. Standing in the middle of his fully lit bedroom, eye to eye, somehow feels more unhinged than usual. “You’re hot.” Yuta finally says plainly. The confession falls easily from his lips into the liminal space they’ve created.
“I think you’re hot too, Yuta-oppa. So hot, in fact,” Mark takes a step closer, uncapping the lip stain. “That you are going to sit in my lap and kiss me until I can’t breathe, apply this tint to my lips, and then lie back and look pretty while I blow you. Sounds good?”
Yuta’s brain reboots with an audible whine and he nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please Mark, please,” he begs, dick fully hardening in his joggers just at the thought of Mark, lips stained a perfect, pretty pink, wrapped securely around his dick. Fuck.
Mark smiles, and it’s almost cute, if Yuta wasn’t so hard he can’t see straight. “Well, go on then, move puppy, let me through.” If Yuta thought ‘oppa’ was devastating coming from Mark’s lips, being called ‘puppy’ was on a whole different level.
Mark sits on the edge of the bed, head tipping back to look up at Yuta. He holds up the opened lip tint, presenting it in his palm. Yuta moves in close, fitting neatly in between Mark’s spread thighs. He takes the tint and racks his brain for any memory he has of seeing one of the many make-up noonas applying lip products to them. His mind is unhelpfully blank, every thought focusing on the already deadly pink of Mark’s lips and the heat against the outside of his thighs from Mark’s.
“Good boy,” Mark breathes out, finally looking affected with Yuta towering over him. Yuta wastes no more time and caps the tint swifty, sinking down to rest awkwardly half on the bed half on Mark’s lap. He’s going to get a cramp, but he pays the consequence no mind as he presses his forehead against Mark's, letting their air mingle.
Mark’s hands slide up the outside of Yuta’s thighs. “Come on, kiss me like you want to.” It's an easy tease, but Yuta is down bad for Mark. He fits his lips to Mark’s and kisses him hard. It’s rough from the start, neither wasting any time turning the kiss open-mouthed and filthy. As soon as Mark sighs into Yuta’s mouth, he surges forward, pushing to pin Mark against the bed. The kiss is messy, wet, and wetter. Yuta presses his tongue to the roof of Mark’s mouth like it’s going to be taken away from him. He slides one hand greedily up Mark’s shirt, feeling the lines of definition Mark has earned from years of nonstop dancing. Mark arches up into the touch, pressing his hips into Yuta’s.
All the tension that had been building since the makeup noona first applied the lipstick to Mark snaps. Yuta’s hips grind down, slow and filthy. Mark throws his head back against the mattress, moaning loudly. Something hot and hard presses back against Yuta’s hip and the satisfaction runs deep. Mark is just as affected as Yuta. Yuta dives back down to suck kisses into Mark’s sensitive neck.
“Mhmm, Yuta,” Mark groans, hands squeezing tight at Yuta’s shoulders.
Yuta bites a little mark, low on Mark’s collarbone in response to the praise. It’s risky, but stylists keep Mark more conservatively dressed then they do Yuta these days, and if they pull any new moves then that’s what concealer is for. Mark whines and he pushes his hips hard against Yuta’s abdomen. A few more light hickeys sucked into Mark’s pale skin, and Yuta is moving back up to capture his lips and muffle the little sounds and pants dropping from Mark’s mouth.
They kiss feverishly for a few more moments before Mark is pulling away, chest rising and falling rapidly. Yuta chases after him until Mark brings a hand up to press against his chest.
“C’mon, put my lipstick on, oppa,” Mark pleads as he looks up through his lashes. Yuta feels his heart skip a beat and his dick throb. He fumbled around on the mattress for where the tube had rolled during their fooling around. Once he’s finally grasped it he realizes his fingers are shaking as he unscrews the lid.
Mark must notice too because he’s reaching down to encircle Yutas hand with his own fingers, steadying him. Yuta glances up to meet Mark’s eyes. There’s a softness to his gaze, the feverish haze from a moment ago cleared to affection. The stillness in the room no longer feels stifling. Mark gives Yuta a short nod before withdrawing his hand to twist into the duvet cover. Yuta pulls the lip gloss' wand fully from the tube.
He readjusts himself, replacing his knee on the mattress between Mark’s thighs and the other boy grinds against it instinctively. His mouth drops open at the concentrated friction and Yuta grins as he steadies his pinky against Mark’s cheek to apply the gloss. It's harder than he would have thought to get an even swipe across Mark’s plush lower lip and he has so much respect for their makeup noonas for doing this several times a day. Mark closes his lips and spreads the product, releasing them with an obscene pop . Yuta has definitely applied far too much, but the color is striking on Mark.
Mark watches Yuta replace the wand in the tube and twist it shut intently. Yuta is about to make some sarcastic remark when Mark’s pretty, painted lips quirk into a grin and suddenly Yuta is blinking up at the ceiling. Mark leans over Yuta, hands pressing his shoulders into the bed. Yuta gulps at the sudden show of strength. Mark shoves his hands up Yuta’s shirt, revealing his twin hip tattoos and navel piercing. Mark sucks in a sharp breath and slides down Yuta’s body until he can leave wet, pink lipstick kisses across Yuta’s navel.
Yuta has never been so hard in his life. The visual of Mark fucking Lee sucking a hickey next to his butterfly tattoo while making eye contact up through his lashes will haunt Yuta’s wet dreams until he dies. Yuta doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he’s so out of his mind. He settles for burying them in the rough strands of Mark’s colored hair. Mark bites teasingly at Yuta’s hip, causing Yuta to arch up into the sensation. “I promised you if you were good I’d suck you off oppa,” Mark coos, hooking his fingertips into Yuta’s waistband. “Do you think you applied my lipstick good?” Yuta whines, needy and shameless. He tugs ever so slightly on Mark’s hair, restless at even the thought of being left like this, empty as it is. “Do you deserve to have lipstick marks on your cock, oppa?”
Yuta, in all his experience feeding into people’s fantasies, can simply whimper pathetically in response. “Please,” he chokes out around the lump in his throat, hips pressing f Mark’s hands, trying for any kind of relief. “Please, Mark, please.” Mark swallows, affected, and tugs Yuta’s sweats and underwear down together.
Yuta’s dick springs up as his clothes are pulled off, bouncing slightly in the air, dark red around the tip and already leaking. He wants to be embarrassed about how hard he is from kissing and dirty talk, but Mark is breathing heavier and his hands rub up Yuta’s thighs greedily.
“Fuck, oppa,” Mark says, breath hot over the tip of Yuta’s cock. It jumps at the bare stimulation and Mark lets out a dark chuckle. “So desperate for me, waiting nicely all day even when everyone could see how bad you wanted this.” Mark settles back on his heels and Yuta has to prop himself on his elbows to see him. Like this Yuta is well above Mark, looking down at him past his piercing and tattoos, between his thighs. Like this Mark is verifiably lethal and the sharp look in his eyes means he knows it. Yuta groans and lets himself drop fully flat against the mattress, wriggling gently against the duvet in desperation. He thinks his balls may literally be blue he's so turned on.
“Mark, Mark please” Yuta begs, eyes hot. He thinks Mark might breathe out a quiet ‘holy shit’ but before he can really focus on it Mark’s mouth is tracing the lines of his feather tattoo until it intersects with the v-cut of his abdomen. Then Mark switches from lips to tongue and Yuta kicks one foot out at the stimulation. Mark laughs again before planting his hands on Yuta’s hip bones.
“Be good, oppa,'“ he reprimands with a solid bite to Yuta’s hip. Yuta gasps and punches up into a half-crunch before collapsing back down. The sharp pleasure-pain sends his nerves racing and Yuta might actually cum the second Mark wraps his perfect pink lips around him. A second after the thought crosses his mind, Mark is pressing a tiny kiss to the very wet tip of Yuta’s cock. Yuta moans loudly and Mark rewards him by swallowing him down suddenly, pulling off with firm suction before pressing another wet kiss to the side of the shaft. “Look oppa,” Mark says, breathy. “I’m leaving marks on your dick.”
Yuta didn’t think he had any more blood to send to his cock but he feels dizzy as he sits up enough to take in the wrecked state of Mark’s mouth and the obscene lip print on the side of his dick. “Fucking hell, Mark,” Yuta groans, one hand moving from the bed to card through Mark’s hair, irreparably ruining its careful styling.
Mark flashes him a triumphant grin and then he’s going down in Yuta like he needs it to breathe. Fingernails dig into the meat of Yuta’s thighs, holding him in place as Mark all but swallows him whole. It’s hot and tight and sloppy and wet and Yuta is bucking against Mark's hands and lips desperately. A gentle scrape of Mark’s upper teeth against the sensitive skin of the head of Yuta’s cock and the press of tongue against the sweet spot below is all it takes for Yuta to spill into Mark’s mouth without warning. He thinks he shouts, but his head is fuzzy with pleasure, sparks running up and down his spine.
Mark’s breath hitches before he lets out a low groan. Yuta blinks hard and sits up, just in time to see Mark's head tipped back, throat exposed with his mouth and chin covered in lipstick and drool. Then the pressure against Yuta’s leg registers and holy shit Mark is humping his leg, getting off on his own. Before Yuta can drag him up his body and stick a hand in Mark’s trousers to give him a hand Mark let’s own a broken moan and fuck Yuta can feel the heat of Marks come through the layers of his pants.
“Shit, Mark, baby, you’re so hot,” Yuta coos, stroking over Mark’s face and hair. Mark laughs under his breath and it gets cut off by a small moan as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm, hips still twitching against Yuta’s shin. “Come here, kitten.” Yuta says, tugging him up onto the bed.
Mark splays across his comforter, chest heaving. Yuta lays a palm over the growing wet spot on Mark’s crotch but quickly pulls it back when Mark whines in oversensitivity. They lie there, legs dangling off the side of the bed, just breathing. But then the air starts to feel too cold on Yuta’s bare lower body and Mark is wincing at the feeling of cum drying in his pants. Yuta sighs, fingers tracing the line of Mark’s cheekbones before he stands and grabs his boxer briefs from the floor. He wipes himself off before handing them to Mark. They’ll need to shower later too, but for now Yuta wants to steal a pair of Mark’s hopefully clean underwear and sit and watch Fullmetal Alchemist with Mark on Ten’s Netflix account. He grabs two pairs of underwear and a pair of basketball shorts, which he tosses to Mark before rooting around for Mark’s laptop.
“That was good, right?” Mark asks to Yuta’s back. Yuta turns around, brows furrowed together. Mark is standing now, new underwear on and he’s holding the shorts in his hands.
“Mark, I’m pretty sure I saw stars. I may never get that hard again in my life, it was more than good.” Yuta answers, earnest. Then a thought crosses his mind and his stomach twists. “Was it…was it not good for you? Was I too rough?”
Mark’s eyes widen and he shakes his head abruptly. “No!” His ears tint pink. “No, it was great. We just haven’t, you know, we don’t fool around.” Mark says quietly. “And I came in my pants like a kid, but I don’t want you to think I’m a kid or something.” Mark mumbles, looking at where his feet are messing with the edge of the carpet.
“Mark,” Yuta says while stepping forward. “Look at me, please” Mark looks up and Yuta smiles. “I don’t think you’re a kid. You’ve been grown up for a good while now. And we haven’t messed around before, but clearly I’ve been missing out,” Yuta winks and it sends Mark into a fit of giggles. Yuta feels warm inside, and he reaches out to grasp Mark’s unoccupied hand. “So I had fun and you had fun, we both respect each other as adults, and now we’re gonna cuddle and watch FMA and enjoy our little bubble before Jaehyun and Jungwoo give us shit tomorrow for being too loud, okay?”
Mark giggles, squeezing Yuta’s hand even as his ears go from pink to red. “Oh my god they totally will. You were so loud, hyung.” Mark comments and Yuta seizes the opportunity.
“Oh I'm ‘hyung’ now? Only ‘oppa’ when my dick is down your throat?” Yuta teases.
“Shut up!” Mark hits Yuta’s shoulder weakly, his face screwing up with embarrassed laughter. “My laptop is on the floor next to my desk, be useful and go get it.” Yuta backs up with his hands raised in mock surrender, but he listens, chest warm. He could get used to this, this change in intimacy with Mark. But that was a conversation for another day. For now, he was going to take his own advice and just enjoy their little bubble before tomorrow comes and they are whisked away for more schedules and fan calls and stylist appointments.