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“Hyuuung,” Donghyuck called out sweetly, poking his head around the frame of Mark’s door. Mark looked up, expression deadpan, rolling his eyes slightly as he spotted the mischief sparkling in Donghyuck’s eyes. “Hyungie, it’s time for you to help me out.”
“Whatever you want,” Mark said drily, as if that statement wasn’t the absolute truth. Donghyuck hummed happily, slipping inside the room and leaving the door half-open. He flopped onto Mark’s bed, immediately putting his best friend in a headlock and aggressively ruffling his hair. Mark tried to fight it for a moment – until Donghyuck wrapped his legs around Mark’s thighs and squeezed, reminding him of what this was. Mark fell still beneath him, limp and pliant.
“Good hyung,” Donghyuck praised, breath moving Mark’s hair. “Don’t worry, Mark-yah. I’ll do all the work.”
Mark made a noncommittal noise.
“I’m gonna put the TV on. I wanted to watch something.”
“Whatever you’d like, hyung. It’s your room.” Donghyuck’s tone was saccharine enough to make Mark wrinkle his nose, but he reached for the remote and flipped through Netflix until he found something he wanted. It was in English, and probably insufferably dull. Mark’s list was filled with serious shows and miniseries. He only watched half of ‘The Kissing Booth’ with Donghyuck before tapping out, because he had no taste.
Whatever Mark chose had poor lighting and a very… gray color palette. Donghyuck tuned out the TV, which was an easy task, because the characters were talking too lowly and rapidly to make out. He focused instead on rifling through Mark’s drawers, taking the opportunity to do a light snoop before grabbing his favorite brand of lube, buried beneath the ones Johnny and Doyoung favored. The tube was nearly half empty – Jungwoo must have been getting into it (he shared Donghyuck’s lube preferences, because Jungwoo was also a man of great taste).
Mark had shoved a pillow beneath his chest and chin while he watched the show on his stomach, feet near his pillows. Donghyuck sighed heavily and shook his head, tucking Mark’s legs in until he was folded in something resembling child’s pose. Donghyuck didn’t bother warming the lube before pressing his first finger in, relishing the way Mark couldn’t suppress a surprised jump of his hips. He opened up Mark perfunctorily, giving him no more consideration than he would a doll that he needed to prepare for use. Mark stayed still on Donghyuck’s twisting fingers, eyes intent on his show.
Donghyuck hadn’t been the first to figure out that Mark liked this, but he was the first one living in this dorm to catch on. And he understood Mark’s thing in a deeper and more personal way than everyone else did, in his opinion. He was Mark’s best friend, plain and simple. But part of the joy of having a best friend was showing them off so that everyone else could see how incredible and amazing they were, and they had to live knowing that they weren’t the best friend of said incredible amazing person, but Donghyuck was. It gave him a thrill to be sharing Mark with everyone else like this, letting everyone else experience how good Mark was. And fuck, was Mark good.
Donghyuck felt a surge of smug pride as he thrust into Mark’s tight warmth, relishing how his thighs smacked Mark’s ass with every stroke.
“Thanks for letting me use you, hyung,” Donghyuck told him conversationally, only sounding a little bit short of breath. “Your hole feels better than my hand. Keeps it interesting. You probably feel a bit better than a Fleshlight, too.”
Mark made no indication of having heard Donghyuck. Donghyuck kept his thrusts short and hard, reluctant to leave the slick heat of Mark’s body.
“You’re so useful like this,” Donghyuck breathed into the side of Mark’s face, fingers curling in the comforter. “So helpful. Glad we found something that makes you worth keeping around, huh? Nobody has an ass like you hyung, and nobody else is enough of a whore to let any of us fuck it whenever we want.”
Donghyuck had gotten worked up from his own speech – a rather filthy one, in his books, and judging by the way the back of Mark’s neck and ears were burning red, he agreed. He sloppily mouthed over Mark’s temple and the sharp jut of his cheekbone, biting at the apple as he pounded his release deep into Mark’s hole.
Donghyuck stayed inside Mark until he went soft, pulling out with a hiss. He groped over Mark’s asscheeks fondly, pushing them apart so he could watch his cum drip out of Mark’s pretty little hole, twitching from the cool air brushing against it.
“Cute, hyung,” Donghyuck cooed, squeezing Mark’s cheeks. “Cute little hole. Such a slutty little thing.”
Mark made no response, eyes fixed on the television. A second episode was queued up, and Mark hit the button for ‘continue watching’ on his remote. Donghyuck sighed with satisfaction, leaning down to bite Mark’s ear fondly before he stood from the bed and stretched languorously.
“Bye-bye, Melk!”
Donghyuck wiggled his fingers as he slipped back out the half-open door into the hallway. Johnny was standing there directly across from Mark’s door, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed loosely over his chest, head tilted and bulge tenting his pants. Donghyuck granted him a nod, and a bright grin. “He’s all yours, hyung.”
They might have moved dorms, but that was no obstacle to Jungwoo slinking into Mark’s room and aggressively cuddling him every morning they had off, dozing for another hour or two in Mark’s bed. He claimed Mark had better blankets. Mark had tried to buy Jungwoo blankets for Christmas two years ago, but the state of affairs remained the same. Jungwoo had hugged him, and giggled into Mark’s ear, “Your blankets are better because they smell like you, silly! But I love these. Thank you, doll.” Mark had been humiliated, lowkey, for missing something so obvious. Johnny had teased him about being dense for months.
But that was before this whole arrangement had started.
Jungwoo slipped into the cocoon Mark had wrapped himself into during the night, comforter and two blankets that his feet still popped out of, sometimes. Jungwoo’s nose was cold where it pressed into the back of Mark’s neck, but it would warm up soon enough. Jungwoo tucked his feet in between Mark’s thighs, and those would warm up soon, too. Jungwoo was like that – he and Johnny both. They ran hot. Maybe it was a tall person thing?
It was with those drowsy thoughts that Mark dozed back off, the soft puffs of Jungwoo’s breath ruffling his hair.
When he came to, Jungwoo’s bare dick was rubbing against his ass, totally hard. And leaking, which Mark could feel on his bare skin, because his pants and boxers had been pushed down. The gentle rocking from Jungwoo thrusting against his body must have been what woken Mark. He cracked an eye and squinted painfully at the clock on his bedside, just barely close enough to make out the numbers sans his glasses. Nearly 11 am. A reasonable enough time to wake up, but Mark wouldn’t mind drifting off again. He hardly ever got seven hours, he could always go for ten when he had the chance. Mark allowed his eyes to fall shut again, and drifted in that fuzzy place between sleep and waking.
Jungwoo continued to grind on Mark’s butt, making small, snuffling noises every so often. He was clearly still a bit tired as well, but very eager. Wrapped around Mark like this in their blanket cocoon, they were both coated in a fine layer of sweat from sleep – and on Jungwoo’s part, from arousal. Mark could feel the hairs at the base of his scalp curling up despite the blowout he’d gotten yesterday, the heat just getting trapped between their bodies and in the blanket burrito. He poked his nose out further, inhaling the cool midmorning air gladly, appreciating how warm his core was as his face was washed over with fresh air.
Now that he’d achieved ideal temperature homeostasis, Mark was ready to be wrapped back in the embrace of sleep. Jungwoo had other plans.
Jungwoo pushed at Mark’s side, rolling him over easily. He slung a leg over both of Mark’s calves and whined in the back of his throat as his dick fitted along the vee of Mark’s hip bone.
It was harder to drift back to sleep like this, Jungwoo’s weight and presence above him more heavily felt. But Mark did his best, counting the seconds of his inhales and exhales meditatively. Jungwoo’s hard cock slipped along his abdomen, getting his belly sticky with precum. Jungwoo groaned lowly, burying his face in the pillow just above Mark’s head while he rutted forward. Mark got used to the suffocating weight above him. He was so tired from this year that he could sleep through just about anything. And he did, dozing off again as Jungwoo chased completion grinding against Mark’s stomach. There was nothing but blankness, no dreams or thoughts, until Jungwoo spilled. With a louder moan, he flopped heavily down onto Mark.
Mark wheezed, the air forced from his lungs. Jungwoo didn’t apologize, simply thrust lazily through his own cum until the high of his orgasm faded. Then he made a happy little noise and wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist, rolling them both back on their sides.
With a soft sigh, Jungwoo octopused himself around Mark the way only he and Yuta really ever did, tucking his nose into the top of Mark’s cropped blond hair. His lanky legs and arms encased Mark, and their skin was definitely going to be glued together with cum. Mark pliantly allowed Jungwoo to adjust his limbs minutely. Jungwoo pressed a kiss to the side of his temple; and they drifted off for another midmorning nap.
When Jaehyun woke up in the middle of the night with an unbearably dry throat, he groped at his bedside table for his water bottle. His hand flopped flat on the acrylic, knocking over a chapstick and sending a strip of daily contacts sliding to the floor. He sighed deeply, reluctantly blinking his eyes open to gaze at the ceiling.
Jaehyun was going have to get out of bed, and venture into the kitchen for a glass of water.
Fucking fantastic, he thought, clomping his way to the kitchen. Just what I needed, to miss out on a solid twenty minutes of sleep when I have to wake up at four in the fucking morning anyways.
Jaehyun was surprised when he rounded the hallway to see the living room half-illuminated by light from the kitchen. It was past two, who was still in there? He poked his head around curiously, and an irrepressible fond smile took over his lips upon seeing his fellow insomniac. Mark. Of course.
Mark Lee had his elbows planted on the counter and was leaned over a bowl of Cheerios (because of course Mark Lee enjoyed Cheerios, Jaehyun thought even more fondly) and what Jaehyun really hoped was oat milk, because he did not want to be subjected to lactose farts.
Jaehyun wrapped an arm around Mark’s skinny chest, pushing his nose against the soft hairs at the base of his scalp. They were shorter than usual, and the bleach-fry made them ticklish. He scrunched up his face, resisting the urge to sneeze, and nuzzled deeper into Mark’s neck. Mark smelled like sleep, and boy, and slightly like the Axe deodorant he still used sometimes despite Johnny literally gifting him classy deodorant every Christmas since he was 17. Jaehyun had a near Pavlovian response to it, at this point. He rumbled deep in his chest, and lazily ground his hips against Mark’s ass. He couldn’t really feel much, between the two layers of sweatpants they wore as pajamas in the winter (this dorm, while in many ways an upgrade, still had shit heating) but just knowing that Mark’s perky, full, smackable ass was right there was enough. Jaehyun felt his dick filling out quickly, eased along by still being somewhat on the edges of sleep. His body buzzed with comfortable, tired arousal; the kind that flooded him when he was jerking off right before bed, solely so that he wouldn’t wake up horny with no time to jerk it before a schedule. When he was just getting his high as quickly as he could, fantasies hazing out into dozes a few times, before he came over his fist and passed out sated.
It was better when Jaehyun got to use Mark’s body to jerk off, though.
He was exhausted, and still wanted to get back to his warm bed as quick as possible. Jaehyun looked down Mark’s back and squeezed his butt affectionately, groping at him with both hands. No penetration, tonight. Jaehyun didn’t have the energy to prep. He glanced around the kitchen, looking for something he could use… No bid deal, he could always just make Mark stop eating and put him on his knees… Before he got to the end of that enticing train of thought, Jaehyun spotted a clear plastic bottle peeking out of a half-opened cabinet (probably left open by Yuta, who always forgot to actually close them all the damn way). Vegetable oil. Perfect.
He reached his arm out and knocked the cabinet open further, grabbing the somewhat oily bottle from the shelf and placing it on the counter. Jaehyun twisted it open one-handed, and continued to hump Mark as he poured some out, gently ramming him into the counter.
He used a moderate amount of the vegetable oil – no need to be wasteful, or make a slippery mess on the floor. It would surely still drip all over the insides of Mark’s pajama pants, staining them irreparably, but Jaehyun couldn’t really bring himself to feel bad. Mark was, what, a fucking sextuple million seller this year alone, or some ridiculous shit? He could afford a new damn pair of sweats if these were ruined in the pursuit of Jaehyun’s orgasm.
Jaehyun rubbed at the inside of Mark’s thighs, coating them in oil. He gave them a few loving squeezes, fingers slipping off the skin too much to really get a good grab at the fat and muscle, then turned his hand up to cup Mark’s balls briefly. They were soft in his hand, fuzzy with hair, and Jaehyun squished them gently. Then he pulled over his own cock until it was slick with oil.
Bumping his cock against Mark’s closed thighs, Jaehyun angled up slightly, just to rub the tip over the cleft where Mark’s hole was hiding. He could just barely feel it, even with Mark’s legs closed. He sighed, smacking his cock against the swell of Mark’s butt a few times before angling it back down, letting it slide through his fist and nudge Mark’s inner thighs. Mark didn’t move at all. Jaehyun could hear him chewing the Cheerios, and swallowing loudly in the otherwise silent kitchen.
Mark wasn’t clenching his thighs, and Jaehyun’s dick slid between them easily when he pushed his hips forward. It was so warm, and the slight tickle of hairs on the backs of Mark’s thighs just made heat pool low in Jaehyun’s abdomen. He thrust lazily in between Mark’s thighs, sighing against Mark’s hair, huffing up the scent of sleep-sweat. Jaehyun didn’t try to make himself last, just let himself fall deeper and deeper down a rabbit hole of sensation until his balls felt heavy, and precum was dripping down Mark’s thighs.
“Ungh.”
Jaehyun used his knees to cage Mark’s legs closer together, groaning softly as the passage between Mark’s thighs tightened up. He rutted eagerly into the hot channel, the tighter clench reminding him more of the velvet heat of Mark’s hole, the way it always sucked him in so eagerly, any time, any place that Jaehyun wanted it –
Memory mixed with fantasy, and Jaehyun fell easily into his orgasm, letting his vision fuzz out around the edges happily as he pulled out to spill over the back of Mark’s thighs. He watched with half-shut eyes as ropes of white striped the bottom of Mark’s butt, the fullness of his upper thighs, and gathered to run down the insides of his legs.
Jaehyun panted into Mark’s neck, feeling the skin there dampen from his hot breath as he regained his bearings. He gave a final little thrust of his cock between Mark’s thighs, drawing out the final little tingles of his orgasm, then pulled his hips away with a satisfied sigh. He pressed a kiss to the hinge of Mark’s jaw and patted the side of his hip, reaching down and catching the garter of Mark’s pushed-down sweats in hands. Jaehyun pulled them back up, settling them on the dip of Mark’s waist. Yep, oil stains all over the crotch. A worthy sacrifice. Mark would live.
Jaehyun sighed again and kept his left arm looped around Mark’s waist while he opened a cabinet, grabbing one of the many plastic cups down from it. Leaning around Mark’s body, he flipped on the sink and let it run for a few moments to get properly cold before sticking his cup under and filling it. He noisily gulped down the contents, then stuck it under again to refill it while yanking his own sweats up one-handed. When Jaehyun had fresh water to bring to his room, he stepped back. He gave Mark’s butt a loving smack.
“Goodnight, Markie.”
“‘Night, Jaehyun-hyung.”
It was the first time Mark had spoken since Jaehyun entered the kitchen. As he rounded the corner into the hallway, Jaehyun saw Mark putting his now-empty bowl in the sink.
Doyoung wasn’t exactly in a great mood when he spotted Mark on the couch. His shoulders and neck held an ache that couldn’t be simply massaged away, he was craving something salty but couldn’t afford to look puffy, and his body was periodically wracked by shivers that no layers of cardigans could warm off – not when their dorm’s heating was so shit, and Seoul was so cold.
Doyoung wandered into the main lounge, half-heartedly hoping he would find an appealing vegetable in the fridge to munch on, when he came across Mark. His dongsaeng was playing the TV too loud, and in English besides. But Mark was never a person who Doyoung subjected to his moods; too young, too precious, too adorable. A baby. His baby. Their baby.
Doyoung got a smile on his lips and brushed a pat over Mark’s head as he passed by, getting a quiet “Hi, hyung” in return.
The foray into the kitchen was moderately successful. Doyoung crunched a single nori chip and downed a glass of ice water. He felt slightly revived, at least. Enough to go curl up beside Mark on the couch, tucking his younger friend’s head into the crook of his neck. Mark folded easily, and Doyoung pulled a blanket up over both their shoulders. He rested his chin atop Mark’s head, bending Mark’s neck down a bit further to make the position comfortable. This used to be a lot easier.
Doyoung spaced out and watched Mark’s movie for a while, but eventually he began to feel restless. There was a kind of buzzing under his skin, something that needed to be exerted. He grabbed the remote from the cushion besides Mark, and closed out to the main menu screen, ignoring the soft, sad noise of protest Mark meeped into his clavicle. There was no further fight as Doyoung found a favorite series of his and started an episode.
By the end of the opening credits, his attention had wandered again. That itch beneath his skin refused to go away. It wouldn’t, not until Doyoung acknowledged it properly. He learned that a long time ago.
And luckily, the perfect outlet was here, curled into Doyoung’s lap. Doyoung reached under the blanket and tapped Mark’s wrist expectantly. The limb didn’t move at first. More impatient this time, Doyoung picked up the hand and dropped it directly over his crotch. He pressed on the back of Mark’s hand, until it was giving a nice, steady pressure to his groin. Doyoung let go of Mark’s wrist, curling his arm around Mark’s shoulder once again and threading his fingers through the short hair at the back of his head.
Doyoung sighed with satisfaction, a small little ping of pleasure with the pressure of Mark’s hand. But he wanted more. He couldn’t relax until he had more. He nudged Mark’s head with his nose. “Move that hand for me, aegi. Yeah, that’s it.” Doyoung’s breath washed over the side of Mark’s face, and he scratched Mark’s scalp in approval as he began to move his palm up and down, until there was a bulge he could squeeze at.
The front door beeped as it opened, automated lock letting the inhabitants know people were coming in. Doyoung flicked his eyes over lazily, hips grinding up slightly into Mark’s hand. Johnny and Yuta trooped through the door, a mess of wide shoulders and puffer coats and scarves and hats. They shoved off their boots noisily, but Johnny lined them up on the shoe rack neatly as Yuta hung their coats. They waved hello to Doyoung as they shuffled into slippers, noses red from the cold. Johnny fussed around in the kitchen, probably making something warm.
“If you’re making food, make enough for all of us hyung!” Yuta called over his shoulder, shooting Johnny a cheeky finger heart when he looked at him in exasperation. Yuta collapsed on the couch near the other arm, flanking Mark. He hummed a hello, eyebrows narrowing as he tried to figure out what the pair was watching. Yuta shamelessly grabbed an edge of the blanket and began pulling it over himself, wrapping his cold fists in it.
Doyoung didn’t fight him for blanket rights, as he usually would’ve. He spread his thighs further and allowed one to slide on top of Mark’s, stealing warmth from him. It had the added benefit of giving his now fully-hard cock breathing room, and Mark’s hand more space to work. The blanket being tugged away made the movement of Mark’s fist far more obvious.
The soft clattering of cooking drifted into the room, ingredients and pots and cutting boards being set on the counters. Doyoung wondered idly what Johnny was making as he grabbed Mark’s wrist, moving his hand bodily to shove it beneath the waistband of his black joggers. He made sure to tuck Mark’s fingers under the band of his boxer-briefs, the tips brushing through his trimmed pubic hair and touching the base of his cock.
Doyoung sighed in satisfaction as Mark’s palm gathered precum from his cockhead then spread it down the shaft, jerking his cock bare now. Yuta turned himself sideways, curled into a ball with his chin propped on his fist. He watched the proceedings with mild interest, having deemed the show dull. Doyoung would’ve scowled at him for so blatantly ignoring Doyoung’s pick, but he felt far too jelly-like to bother. The steady simmer of arousal was rising in him slowly, his building orgasm burning low and long. Doyoung began to thrust into Mark’s hand, using the tight circle of Mark’s fist to get himself off. He moaned under his breath as he felt the pull in his gut go tight, and he spilled over Mark’s fingers. He kept thrusting through the tight hole of Mark’s fist, smearing his cum all over Mark’s hands and getting the inside of his joggers plenty sticky.
Doyoung mouthed over Mark’s cheek as his heart rate came back down, ending with an affectionate kiss to his nose. He tapped Mark’s forearm. Mark withdrew his hand easily, putting it back in his own lap and continuing to watch the show silently. Yuta tilted his head, the gesture feline, and was stroking over Mark’s other wrist with his thumb.
Doyoung stood from the couch with a yawn and a stretch of his arms behind his back, cracking his spine. He patted the top of Mark’s head and began to walk towards the bathroom, looking forward to a blisteringly hot shower.
“Johnny-hyung, I hope dinner is ready by the time I’m back!” He shouted back towards the kitchen as he rounded the corner of the hallway. The faint sounds of Johnny cursing him out chased Doyoung, keeping a soft smile planted on his lips.
The number of unread emails on Mark’s phone was in the hundreds, a number that never failed to fill him with guilt when he spotted it in a red circle at the corner of the app. He tried to be good about staying on top of them, really! It was just he got a million a day, and there was no way to keep up with the endless stream. Besides, the manager always told Mark when it was something actually pressing, having been CC’d on anything of importance.
It was one of those afternoons where he had a spare two hours to himself that Mark found himself curled in bed under a fuzzy polyester blanket, vibing to a playlist Johnny had made coming softly from his laptop while he did his best to clear his inbox. It wasn’t exactly relaxing, but at least his body was getting a rest, and it was monotonous enough work.
Curled in a little blanket burrito, green head poking out the top, was how Yuta found him.
Yuta crawled in next to Mark in bed, while Mark is checking endless emails on his phone. Eyes still on the screen, Mark heard clothes rustling, and a tell-tale thump of something hitting the floor. He didn’t pay it any mind, deleting five emails he’d been CC’d on for no fucking reason in short order. Mark had begun typing a semi-thoughtful response to an assistant producer when new sounds filled his ears: squelching, wet noises. Suction. Small gasps of breath, and the rustling of sheets. The mattress dipped slightly, rocking Mark around.
Yuta was fingering himself.
Mark made no indication that he had noticed what was happening on the mattress beside him. His breathing stayed steady as he finished his reply, signing it off and then moving to the next. A chain that went nine emails deep, that Mark now had to scan to make sure there wasn’t anything actually important lurking in number three.
Yuta’s breathing picked up beside his ear, noisy and thick. The sounds of his fingers screwing his asshole faded in Mark’s ear, becoming part of the background noise in the room. Mark had moved on to a new email – a short one, actually pressing, to confirm the studio time he and Taeyong had booked – when the mattress dipped noticeably again. That was his warning before Yuta tugged at his hip and laid Mark out flat on his back, swinging a leg over and straddling his hips. Yuta was completely naked atop Mark, nipples erect from the cool air and naval piercing glinting in the afternoon sun sneaking in through the slits of Mark’s closed blinds.
Mark blinked up at him, then went back to his phone. He tapped out his confirmation, and Yuta tugged apart the ends of his blanket burrito. Mark pressed ‘send’ as Yuta yanked down the band of his plaid pajama pants, not even pausing to look for permission.
He didn’t need to. He knew he already had it.
Mark was half-hard when Yuta took him in hand, getting his cock slick with lube and lining it up with his entrance impatiently. Mark’s belly rose faster with his breaths, perhaps a bit more severely, but otherwise, he continued to be knee-deep in the swamp of emails while Yuta got himself off on Mark’s cock.
“Fuck,” Yuta whined, veiny hand wrapping around his own dick. Mark snuck a glance from above his phone. The tip was already visibly sticky with precum. Yuta’s other hand went to his nipples, pinching them and twisting them mercilessly. He rocked himself back and forth above Mark, grinding Mark’s semi against his prostate. The pressure likely wasn’t as good as when Mark was actually hard, but that didn’t matter. Nothing got Yuta off like this.
“Baby – baby, you got such a nice little cock, fuck… So good under me…” Yuta’s breathless praise trailed away with a quiet moan. Mark made a humming noise of acknowledgement, brows furrowing as he read a particularly passive aggressive exchange happening between two assistant managers locked in a power struggle, who had seemingly forgotten the entire group was CC’d on the thread.
“Nice and still, such a good boy. You’d let me do whatever I wanted with you, huh? However I wanted to fuck around… That’s so fucked up, Markie. God.”
Yuta came quickly, the way he always did when he fucked around with Mark this way. It got all over Mark’s oversized tee, but spared his phone. Yuta bunched up Mark’s shirt, wiping the excess cum from his hand there and rubbing his tacky hand into Mark’s bare abdomen meditatively, like he was trying to melt the rest of his release into Mark’s soft belly.
Yuta crawled off Mark with a satisfied groan, rolling his neck so it cracked loudly. Mark’s half-hard cock landed on his inner thigh with a plop. Yawning widely, Yuta gave Mark a fond pat on the head with his clean hand.
“Thanks, angel.”
Mark didn’t say anything, just blinked, and opened another email. An announcement from the company regarding social media posting etiquette and proper behavior.
Scintillating.
Taeyong had been so busy with promotions for months – recordings and dance practices and photoshoots and rehearsals and press – that it felt like an eternity since he had set foot in the studio. He was glad he and Mark had been able to carve out this chunk of time, even if it meant coming to the company late in the evening and sacrificing a few precious hours of sleep. The prospect of studio time had buoyed Taeyong all day.
They worked in quiet synchrony for well over an hour before a familiar itch began to crawl beneath Taeyong’s skin.
“Markie.”
Taeyong made his words come out sweet, a syrupy coo. Mark turned his head and was confronted by Taeyong’s best puppy dog eyes – incredibly devastating. Nearly on par with Mark’s own.
Mark visibly melted. “Yeah, hyung?”
“Can you shut the door?” Taeyong lifted his eyebrows into a hopeful little pout. Mark rose from his seat easily, shutting the door without any questions. He made to step away when Taeyong’s voice stopped him. “Ah-ah. Lock it, Markie.”
“Yes, hyung.” Mark obeyed, then walked back to his chair. Once again, Taeyong stopped him; this time, with a hand to the thigh. His fingers looked particularly bony wrapped around Mark’s black jeans, tight at the tops of his thighs but saggy near his knees, and gather of fabric at the back below his butt. Taeyong patted Mark’s thigh sympathetically. The darling had such a hard time finding jeans that fit properly.
“Don’t sit there,” Taeyong instructed Mark softly, squeezing at him high up, on his inner thigh. “I have other work for you.”
He palmed over his crotch significantly, too obvious for Mark to miss the gesture. Mark acquiesced easily, yet again.
“Yes, hyung.”
He folded to his knees without any further orders, shuffling to fit himself between Taeyong’s spread legs. His knobby knees bumped at Mark’s shoulders, and he petted his hand through Mark’s hair. It was shorter at the top, now, and his ringed fingers didn’t catch quite so badly as usual.
“Yeah, that’s it. Between my legs, sweetie.” Mark inched forward on his knees. Taeyong cooed again at Mark’s coochie eyes staring glossy up at him as he lay his face sideways atop Taeyong’s thigh. “So cute.”
Taeyong opened his jeans with one hand, unzipping the fly and pulling his cock out through the hole in his boxers.
“You don’t need to talk anymore.” Taeyong’s voice was soft, but they both knew it was an order. “You don’t need to do anything but stay right there and keep my cock nice and warm.”
Mark didn’t nod, didn’t so much as blink. Taeyong cupped his jaw and used his thumb to pry Mark’s chin open, and guided his cock to the pretty, pink, parted lips.
His mostly still soft cock slipped into Mark’s mouth easily, the tip bumping at the back of his throat like a tease. Taeyong sighed with satisfaction, petting Mark on the head. It was so warm and nice like this, such a pleasant place to tuck his cock away. He left Mark like that, holding still with Taeyong’s cock filling his mouth, and went back to work.
Taeyong didn't know how much time had passed when he finally blinked himself from the haze of work, eyes dry from staring at the laptop screen so long. He rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, then glanced down at his lap. The sight stoked the fire in his belly anew, and his cock twitched. He saw it, in the outline pressed to Mark’s cheek. He brushed the back of his knuckles down the side of Mark’s face.
“Pretty,” he breathed, too soft for Mark to hear. Mark’s eyes were glazed over, staring blankly at some spot to the side of Taeyong’s hip. Probably just the back of the chair. Taeyong cracked his knuckles and grabbed his phone, swiping it open to the camera. He lined Mark up in the middle of the frame, and took 2 photos; one with flash, one without. Mark didn’t even blink after that bright flash went off, flooding his particularly dark crevice of the room, tucked down between Taeyong’s legs.
Taeyong opened his chat with Johnny and sent the pictures over. He could see Johnny was online, and within seconds the messages were marked as read.
It was a couple minutes before he got a reply from Johnny, though. Taeyong lazily thrust into Mark’s mouth while he waited, playing the new instrumental on a loop, vibing it out. Half-listening for any snags, anything that might break his immersion. This was an important piece in making music people wanted to fuck to: actually fucking to it.
Johnny’s reply came through when Taeyong felt the first drops of precum leak from his slit, onto Mark’s still tongue. It was another picture, taken with flash in Johnny’s dark bedroom. Big, veiny hand wrapped around a big, veiny cock.
A slight smile pulled up the corners of Taeyong’s mouth. He set his phone back on the desk and threaded the fingers of his left hand through Mark’s hair. Without warning, Taeyong shoved Mark’s head forward, yanking his mouth down to the base of his cock. Mark’s throat gurgled loudly, choking around Taeyong’s length. Taeyong didn’t move, just held him in place, unrelenting. Mark didn’t try to fight, and eventually, the noises petered out. Taeyong pulled his head back by the hair for a few seconds, then forced him back down.
He was brought to the edge quickly like that, the insidious beat of the track filtering into his bloodstream, making him thrum and pulse, pushing him higher, higher. Taeyong liked to pull one off quickly for a break in the studio. He’d turn back to his work feeling refreshed, relaxed, ready to look at things with new eyes and ears.
It was even better when Taeyong could pull one off into Taeyong’s mouth. He grunted deep in his chest as his hips began to jump forward, cock twitching in the slack heat of Mark’s mouth. Mark wasn’t even sucking, just had his lips wrapped over his teeth. Just on his knees, being the perfect little hole he was meant to be.
Taeyong came with a low groan, voice crackling in the back of his throat. He curled forward, thrusting gently as he fed his cum down Mark’s throat. When he finished, Taeyong pulled Mark’s head off himself slowly, eyes dark as he watched his cock slip out from between Mark’s lips, clean. Mark swallowed again now that his mouth was clear.
Taeyong petted through Mark’s hair several more times, then removed his hand. He patted the well-padded swivel chair beside him invitingly, smiling brightly at Mark with hopeful eyes.
Mark rose from his knees and sat back in his chair, hand going back to the mousepad and resuming his hunched-over posture, eyes intent on the screen. As if time had been paused, and now Taeyong had pressed play on the remote again, allowing Mark to continue just as he had been. As if forty-five minutes hadn’t passed at all.
Nobody else was in Mark’s room when Johnny slipped in, which was good. He caught sight of his wild grin in the mirror, and darted his eyes over to Mark. Mark hadn’t looked up at the sound of his door opening, nor at it shutting. He was tapping at something on his phone – Johnny stepped forward. Looked like Mark had chosen a podcast episode, trying to unwind after a long day of music video shoots. Johnny wanted to unwind, too. He made himself right at home, taking his pants off and leaving them in a messy heap on the ground.
Johnny flopped on to the mattress, sending Mark’s body bouncing. He still didn’t acknowledge Johnny beyond a disgruntled noise as he landed on his stomach. Johnny’s grin stayed on his face as he crawled over Mark’s body, caging him under Johnny on all fours. He rucked up Mark’s shirt impatiently, making sure to get it high around his neck, so Mark’s bare nipples would rub against his comforter. He shoved Mark’s sweats and boxers down to his knees, then settled down along Mark’s back. Johnny squashed Mark pleasantly, sighing happily as his cock nestled in to the soft squish of Mark’s ass. He was soft, but after a few minutes of mouthing at the back of Mark’s neck and rutting lazily into his butt, his dick quickly began to chub up.
Johnny barely had to strain his arm to reach the bedside shelves, grabbing a tube of lotion before readjusting to kneel above Mark. He squirted the cool, thick cream out onto Mark’s ass liberally, fucking around and making a smiley face before dropping the tube down on the mattress. He massaged the lotion into Mark’s ass, enough excess dripping from his hands to make slicking up his cock easy. Johnny grabbed Mark’s waist, running his large hands up the expanse of Mark’s back to get rid of the extra cream, rubbing it firmly into his skin.
Now that they were slippery, Johnny’s semi felt even better grinding against Mark’s butt.
“Shit, baby. This ass was just made to be fucked. Practically begging to get filled up with cock, hm?” Johnny ground his cock into the fullest swell of Mark’s ass. “You’d like that, huh? Having your hyung’s cocks stuffed in you all the time? You’re such a whiny little cockslut when you get going. I know you want it.”
Mark pretended not to hear Johnny, like he was totally absorbed in his podcast. But the thud of his pulse beneath Johnny’s fingers, quickening with every bit of filth that fell from Johnny’s mouth, betrayed him.
Not that Johnny needed the tell. He had seen Mark pause the podcast the second he stepped into the room, and he’d never resumed it. Johnny pressed a smirk beneath Mark’s lobe, nipping at the skin there. His nose jostled the airpod, knocking it out of Mark’s ear.
Mark didn’t move to put it back in. He just pretended as if nothing had happened, as if he was still absorbed in his dumb podcast, as if he had been listening the whole time. The rocking of Johnny’s hips continued to jostle Mark gently, and Mark made no move to brace himself.
“You’re such a good doll,” Johnny praised, licking wetly over the shell of Mark’s ear. No finesse, and surely obscenely loud to Mark. Johnny closed his teeth around the cartilage gently, nipping before he pulled back to admire the view. “You’re just the perfect toy, aren’t you? And so nice and warm. So good, babe.”
Johnny dug his fingers deeper into the divots of Mark’s ribs, slipping against the sweat gathered there. He smiled smugly as he drew one hand back and slapped Mark’s ass, admiring the jiggle. Johnny was getting close, dick dripping precum along Mark’s crack and smearing it on the small of his back, and he decided it was time to get down to business.
Johnny spread Mark’s cheeks with the fingers of each hand, thumbs crossing over his dick. He used them to press the shaft down into Mark’s cleft, spreading his ass apart. Johnny groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. Mark looked so fucking good like this. Perky little ass cheeks cupping Johnny’s cock, pale white skin in stark contrast to the angry reddish-purple Johnny’s erection had flushed. Johnny’s slit smearing shines of precum against Mark’s dry skin. He loved how big his cock looked, lined up against Mark’s ass, long and thick and Johnny could hardly believe he could even fit it up Mark’s hole. He could hardly believe how well Mark took his dick, hole always sucking him in, hot and greedy.
Johnny thrust between Mark’s soft cheeks, building up a steady rhythm. His thumbs pressing himself down afforded him a nice amount of friction, and the tease of his tip almost notching against Mark’s entrance on the upstroke made fire pool in his belly. His balls were cupped by Mark’s cute thighs, which he longed to sink his teeth into and bruise up.
Johnny worked himself up quickly. He’d been horny since before he came in here – it was why he’d bothered coming over to Mark’s room in the first place. He’d been thinking about Mark’s ass all day, the promise of being able to get his hands and cock on it when they arrived home building arousal in him until his entire body was humming.
“Hyung’s wanted you all day, baby,” Johnny informed Mark, seeing no reason not to be honest. Mark had always hung off his every word, fascinated by everything Johnny had to say. Johnny was very fond of Mark for that. Mark was such a perfect little receptacle for Johnny’s speeches. Even if he was still pretending to listen to his dumb podcast, eyes fixed on the phone screen. “Saw your cute butt in that baseball uniform and had to have it. I saw you bending over for me, getting my phone and my shoes. Such a good little pet. Hyung loved it. Hyung loves it when you’re my little whore.”
Johnny was breathing heavily now, his own words feeding into his arousal in an intoxicating feedback loop.
“Ah – mm fuck, Markie…”
He grabbed Mark’s ass more firmly, anchoring himself as his body shuddered from his orgasm. Johnny drove his hips forward into the cushion of Mark’s ass as his dick twitched and began spurting his release over Mark’s unblemished skin. Johnny’s grip stayed tight as he rode out his orgasm, fingers sunk deeply into Mark’s flesh, dimpling it white as his dick shot ropes of cum over Mark’s cheeks, the small of his back. Johnny’s nails were gonna leave little bruises scattered over the swell of Mark’s ass; a crescent of harsh purpled lines that would span out in a way that could only have been left by Johnny’s hands. Like a sign. Johnny was here.
Jaehyun and Donghyuck would be annoyed, probably. They disliked it when their toy got all marked up. Johnny mentally shrugged as he dismounted Mark, climbing off the bed and fishing his sweats from the floor. Sucked for them. Johnny liked to break his dolls in, and Mark was just as fair game to Johnny as he was to Jaehyun and Donghyuck.
Johnny looked over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. Mark was grinding down against his bed, hips working in nearly imperceptible little circles, lower lip caught between his teeth and his brow scrunched in fervent concentration.
Johnny chuckled, and left the door open on his way out.
tbc.