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Somewhere between Paris and Berlin, Mark loses his mind.
Or, no, it’s been years, really. Years of having his sanity slowly chipped away like a loop of pencil sharpener on graphite, only by being in Donghyuck’s proximity.
On day (infinite) of Mark’s downward vertical corkscrew of what he's definitely not calling sexual frustration except there just isn't any better name for it, Donghyuck crawls up to him on the dressing room couch and says: “Hyung, I miss you.”
He says it just loud enough for Mark to hear, and he’s hugging in close whilst his sweet mouth is almost pressing into Mark’s neck— which means Chenle doesn’t hear him, but Mark can definitely feel him stealing glances at them from the corner of his eyes.
“I miss you so much,” Donghyuck insists. He throws a leg over Mark’s thighs and Chenle is now openly watching them.
Mark’s exact plan isn’t to pull away but it isn’t to stay either, so he tilts his head back almost imperceptibly and Donghyuck stiffens.
“I’m right here,” he says, thinks: no, no, just like this, don’t move. Except any other movement would probably steer them off into the dangerous territory of him touching Donghyuck back and he knows that if he were to start now, Chenle would be yelling about his innocence being violated or something. And Mark wouldn't be able to blame him, really, because a glimpse of Donghyuck's pout makes the steam inside him rise up like a hotboxed car— it's a good thing Donghyuck pulls away.
“Well— I was thinking…” Mark can't stop watching his lips at all, now, actually. He finds Donghyuck impossibly, irresistibly attractive, at all times and in every situation. He doesn't find out what Donghyuck was thinking because they get called for makeup and wardrobe, respectively.
“Later,” Mark says. “You can stop making that face, Zhong Chenle.”
So. He's not sexually frustrated. Just a bit Donghyuck deprived. Mark misses him, too.
Something's gotta give, he thinks. Donghyuck's fiery determination and his drive for all things heart-spoken meeting Mark's rationalism, that's how they operate right now. Mark is best at listening to his own mind while Donghyuck's too good at pretending logic doesn't exist. It's how they've always been, just less pronounced, less settled into themselves. It's how they're always going to be, and it's fine.
Except Donghyuck is just getting more and more bold and they’re consequently getting less and less opportunities to spend time together, just the two of them. Alone. Preferably in a horizontal position. It's always easier to stick to hands and hungry mouths, but even that proved a feat in these conditions.
Mark doesn't think he's done anything bad, but he also isn't sure he hasn't not done anything bad. Donghyuck is just as sweet to him as ever, and it's only the frustrating schedule keeping them apart, Mark is sure. But it feels suspiciously like the first time he's fucked up and gotten sexiled— experienced firsthand how powerful and fueling of a cocktail vengeance and spite are for his boyfriend.
(The first time after he'd fucked up and suffered from a being sexiled situation, Donghyuck found ways to eat phallic-shaped foods within Mark's range of vision with malevolent innocence, he'd wear Mark's clothes at any given opportunity, his hair got fluffier, his lips got fuller, he got sweeter, and by the end of those torturous weeks, barely hanging on by a thread, Mark made a promise to himself that he'd never be so stupid again. And he'd succeeded in avoiding sexilation for almost a year, which. Good for him.)
And then Golden Hour finally drops.
Mark is in his hotel room, the drum of his heart across all the soft places in his body successfully keeping him wide alert. He's been getting random bursts of adrenaline during the weeks leading up to this, and the entirety of today was a culmination. Even his pillow has a heartbeat when he settles down onto his side.
He turns on Do Not Disturb and watches the M/V again, the critical part of his brain halfway shut, and then scrolls through the messages that have piled up, opening only one of the chats.
jaemin
yooooo hyung you dog
renjun
mark hyung good boy in the streets, wildin in the sheets
chenle
outslayed tbh
jaemin
so
we’re allowed to rap about how big our ducks are now
hyung i know ur reading this don’t be embarrassed
jeno
how big is your duck jaemin
chenle
do you have to feed it a lot
jaemin
🦆🦆🦆
Donghyuck is quiet.
Mark is anxiously waiting for the name to pop up but Donghyuck is fucking quiet and that’s probably even worse than him cussing him out through texts. He scrolls up and down as if it would make Donghyuck's name miraculously appear.
It's terrifying, is the thing. Donghyuck is predictably unpredictable and Mark knows this, knew it from the moment he said he wasn't gonna show Donghyuck what he was working on, that he's going to have to wait. Them being on tour forced apart and Jaemin being the one who got to actually visit him during filming is nothing short of a psychological playground for Donghyuck's tendencies— Mark might not have thought it through entirely.
Donghyuck was maybe right to be mad. That's the first thing he thinks after his stomach drops down to and out of his ass when he hears the knock. Mark really can't go through another hellish Donghyuck sexilation treatment again, not now. He's fully ready to open the door with his head down, even get to his knees and repent but then—
He really does have a big problem, is his second thought when he sees Donghyuck and all the blood in his body has no choice but to migrate south for his sexual winter. Well. Not immediately. But Donghyuck's shorts are ridiculously short and he's wearing one of Mark's huge shirts, neckline worn thin and an outline of a nipple visible as he drags a hand down his chest.
And, god, the thing is that Mark was supposed to be the one thirst-trapping Donghyuck, with the entirety of the music video, his outfits, and the angles and cuts of his hands with the rings that he knows Donghyuck likes— and not the other way around.
“Okay,” he says. Rolls his eyes and does the kinda face that only makes Mark want to kiss him into oblivion.
“Okay?”
“Okay, you win. I'll suck you off, damn, take your pants off.”
Mark straightens up so fast his spine cracks in two different places. He tugs Donghyuck inside.
“At least shut the door, Jesus, I—”
“What. Was that not what you were trying to get me to do?”
Mark is tethering on an edge of something, here. Just him and his personal angel of death having a face-off in his hotel room doorway.
“You sound… Hyuck, ahah, you sure you're not gonna make me sweat it out? Like. Is this a trick? Feels like a trick.”
Donghyuck's fingers magic themselves down the front of Mark's pyjama pants so quick he barely feels the fabric shift.
“Oh, he's self-aware, that's cute. I confront issues in a healthy way now, as the silent treatment is emotionally manipulative and destructive.” Something in his voice makes Mark shiver. He feels Donghyuck's hand wrap him up in a snug grip with no hesitation. “Big boy. Gonna put that big problem to use?”
“Good for you and I guess, uuuuh,” Mark stretches out, “good for me, as well? Would you like me to?”
“The other question is, do you think you deserve it?”
Donghyuck is looking at him like Mark does, though. He's still holding onto Mark's cock, a brain-melting and torturous point of contact without actually moving. Mark, sensing that there are only a few moments separating him from leaving his fleshy prison for eternity, swallows thickly. “Are you. Hyuck, it's late, are you sure you don't wanna rest? Do this tomorrow, maybe? I…”
“Mark Lee,” Donghyuck says, all sweet with it, “if you do not let me at it right now, well… you can be sure you and your big problem will be taking care of each other for an unspecified amount of time.”
“You said no more— sure, sure, I'm sorry. Yeah. Go for it.”
Donghyuck drops down to his knees. If Mark wasn't hard before, this sight would for sure be a successful catalyst. Elation and embarrassment are both having a cage match in his gut where only one of them gets to live. Elation, because having his boyfriend look up at him with his round, sparkly eyes as he's trying to suck Mark's dick deserves nothing less of an emotion. Embarrassment, only because of the set of circumstances that led them right here.
“Remember when you were bad at sucking cock. Cause I do,” Mark says and watches as Donghyuck's entire neck goes a bit red. He brushes his fingers against one red ear and his heart sputters and squeezes alarmingly. “Okay, not bad per se, but… your lovely little mouth struggled. Choked a little. Good times.”
“I have this feeling you’re fishing for a big dick compliment. Again. You can do it yourself now, hyung, and in front of an audience at that.”
Nails gently scratch down Mark's flank and it makes his eyes slide halfway to close. He shuts them briefly when Donghyuck's thumbs rub circles into one of the most sensitive places on Mark's body— the thin skin just shy of his hips, where the muscles and bones form a divot. He goes electric and the world dark, but he opens his eyes in seconds just so he can look at Donghyuck again.
Mark takes off Donghyuck’s glasses as a precaution, then his hand whispers down the side of Donghyuck’s cheek. “Oh, what made you think that? I'm not gonna, like—”
“Ah, but you will,” Donghyuck interrupts, “just you and your ego that gets personally hand-fed every time I say your cock is huge.”
“One of my better qualities.”
“Yeah? And what’s your best?” Donghyuck asks and drags Mark’s pyjamas down.
“You.”
“So cheesy.”
Mark laughs and Donghyuck’s head falls forward, face against Mark’s crotch. “You smell good.”
Noses at his balls, rubs his cheek against Mark's cock like a cat. It's not that embarrassing, the rush of blood, not after those years. “Yeah? You gonna show me how much better you got at this?”
Donghyuck glances up at him, lashes impossibly long and dark. He deliberately sticks his tongue out and then runs it along his cock, root to tip. Mark rockhard, shaft kicking at the wet, hot contact.
“No better person to make that judgement,” he says and seals his lips against the tip of Mark’s cock. Takes him into his mouth, hand joining in the middle pulling up, up and the tight lips sliding down, down, a brief and punishing brush of teeth that makes Mark hiss.
It’s wet and searing hot, Mark’s thighs trembling at the promise of thrusting right there when he feels inclined to push deep. Make Donghyuck take it. So hungry for it, always.
Donghyuck’s larynx, the clenching heat around him when Donghyuck finally allows the movement of Mark’s hips set the pace, only pulling away after a good few thrusts that make Mark grip his hair hard and moan. “Fuck.”
Donghyuck swirls his tongue around the tip and catches at the underside, the sensitive frenulum where he flicks over and over until Mark can’t stand it anymore, until he snaps and pushes deep with a violent jerk. He fists his hands in Donghyuck’s hair even tighter, ruts between his filthy lips.
“Oh god, Donghyuck, your mouth.”
Donghyuck grapples at Mark’s ass, grips the roundness of his glutes, and pulls back again, meets Mark’s eyes from where his head has fallen forward, vision kinda blurry.
“C’mon, babe. Go,” he coughs a little and then smirks, eyes big and wet staring right at Mark as he sticks out his tongue and catches the drops of precum that bead slowly at the tip of Mark’s cock.
A fondle and a tug, Donghyuck taking him into his mouth again for another delicious moment, allowing the push at the back of his throat, convulsing with every thrust, encouraging it with the fingers still digging into Mark’s ass. Mark feels lightheaded. Every single sensation gathered to a single point, to Donghyuck and his impossible mouth. Knees threatening to give out, his filthy, incredible boyfriend turning Mark’s kneecaps into mush.
“I can’t,” Mark gasps, “oh, christ.”
He pulls out with the wettest sound, forces Donghyuck off by his shoulders using them as leverage to stop him from collapsing to the ground. The hands on his hips are strong, strong enough to keep him upright, but so soft.
“Fuck,” Mark says, “fuck, I need you, I need to touch you, I–”
“Was I good,” Donghyuck asks, innocently blinking his fuck-me eyes up at him as if he didn’t just suck out every ounce of staying-alive capacity through Mark's cock.
“The best, baby, always,” Mark says, still a bit out of it but stroking both palms over Donghyuck's cheeks, pulling him upwards like that as he bends down to take that mouth into a kiss. Kind of a dumb angle, but it works to convey the desperation. “Come here, come on.”
Donghyuck's fist replaces his mouth, the strokes extremely slow and deliberate. He twists his wrist, plays with the head for a bit, then changes rhythm— from short and quick to long and drawn out, catered specifically for the throbs Mark's dick executes in his snug hold.
“Is it about me? Lie, even if it isn't. Did you imagine me, in the kitchen? Me cooking for you,” Donghyuck is rambling, lips pulling away and then meeting Mark's again, the words slurring together, “makin' you eggs.”
“It's not about… Hyuck, it's not about cooking, I…” But it's faint because Donghyuck is rubbing circles into the wet head of Mark's cock with the palm of his hand and that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. He breathes into Donghyuck's mouth, tucks Donghyuck's answering sigh close to himself, swears he's never felt better in his life.
“Then it's about me.”
Mark gasps weakly.
“Say yes.” Donghyuck's grip on him tightens. In contrast, the brush of his thumb across the head feels almost punishingly soft. Mark feels more precum ooze out and feels Donghyuck smile against his mouth, either because of that or because Mark sighs out a yes.
He strokes both hands up Donghyuck's back, shirt catching on his wrists and then he brings them to the front, trying to get a semblance of control back which seems almost an impossible feat. Both hands cupping the swell of muscle on Donghyuck's chest, he squeezes desperately and then gets both his tiny nipples between a thumb and a forefinger. Pinching, he wishes it was his teeth biting down, but they're occupied with the curve of Donghyuck's jaw.
“Ah, ah,” Donghyuck whines into his ear.
“Shush, baby. We’ve gotta keep it down,” Mark tries but it's half-hearted, mumbled into the space where Donghyuck’s smooth neck meets his shoulder.
Time feels stretched out.
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me so bad, Mark, it's been too long, you’re so hot, you’re everything,” Donghyuck babbles and Mark moans helplessly, going against his own brain fighting to keep a grip on his vocal cords. All he wants to do is get Donghyuck stretched out on a bed underneath him, to sink his cock into him, the whole bed-breaking, mattress-creaking desperation he feels as he grips Donghyuck's ass and pulls him tight against his body, Donghyuck's hand and Mark's cock getting caught between them.
“I will, promise. Fuck you so good.”
Mark fumbles for Donghyuck's dick too, can feel it pressing firm and hot against his hip, but Donghyuck doesn't let him, he brings Mark's hand back to his chest again. He feels him up hopelessly, rolling Donghyuck's nipple in his fingers, slipping his other beneath the waistband of Donghyuck's shorts to clutch the warm skin of his ass, fingertips finding his hole and rubbing mercilessly.
The answering moan Donghyuck leaves in his mouth feels fatally sweet.
“Don't you dare come, Mark, I want you to— inside, yeah? No pulling out. Don't— oh, god.”
Mark holds his breath and comes over Donghyuck's fist like a cork popping, shaking and knees-locking, presses him into the wall with the weight of his liquified body. He grits his teeth, muffling a strangled hiss into Donghyuck's chest as he's tugged into oversensitivity, hips cringing upward unto that unforgiving grip until Donghyuck takes mercy on him and pulls away.
Supported by Donghyuck's body and Donghyuck's back supported by the wall, Mark would've been content to just stay like this until his brain boots back up, but then Donghyuck brings his hand up to his mouth. Pupils blown wide, he makes tortuous eye contact as he licks the space between his thumb and forefinger. Mark's throat constricts.
“So,” Donghyuck says, in this tone that lets Mark know his existence is about to be careened off its already precarious placement.
“Let me.” He tries but Donghyuck still won't let him touch his dick, seemingly content with just Mark's fingers teasing at his dry hole while he's licking Mark's come off his own hand, which—
“Thank you for the meal. Now get the lube and get cookin' again, chef.”