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Donghyuck didn’t even want to go to this stupid party.
It’s courtesy of Mark that he’s out past his bedtime on a Saturday evening that he could’ve spent cuddled on the couch with him, watching cheaply produced end-of-the-year shows on TV and making a ranking of which ones were the worst by flipping through the channels one by one, Jaemin probably appearing to sit on the armrest at some point like he always seemed to do.
But no. Instead, Donghyuck’s currently nursing his second bottle of beer, squished between Jaehyun and Jaemin (what a fucking combo) on the couch by the fireplace that, for some reason, Johnny had in his living room which was somehow more mind-boggling than the fact that the guy always kept fresh limes on the kitchen countertop despite not even liking limes that much — his own words, not Donghyuck’s.
Rich people were so weird.
Behind him is Mark, elbows bent and resting against the back of the couch, hands coming to loop around Donghyuck’s neck, fingers intertwined loosely against his chest, just below where Donghyuck’s shirt collar — top two buttons undone — has tugged itself down to reveal a sliver of smooth skin and protruding collar bone.
Mark’s fingertips tap Donghyuck’s skin through his dress shirt absentmindedly every time the song on the speakers changes like he can’t bear not letting music run through him, and his hands come away to squeeze at Donghyuck’s shoulders whenever one of the nameless guys says something that makes Mark double over in laughter.
And, really, Donghyuck’s kind of glad his back is to Mark instead of his side being pressed against Mark’s like it currently was against Jaemin’s — arms linked and body jostling whenever the other laughed like he’d get shot if he didn’t physically show just how funny he found the joke by flailing his limbs around and leaning all up in Donghyuck’s personal space.
When they — yes, they (the text message had both Mark and Donghyuck’s names at the beginning of the paragraph in Mark’s iMessage log like they were some conjoined entity) — had gotten the invite to the fabled New Year’s Eve party that Johnny hosted every year, the PS below the block of text, all single spaced and making Donghyuck’s eyes hurt in his head as he leaned over Mark’s shoulder to peek at the notification, well, the PS stated that the dress code this year was elegant.
And with all the internal complaining Donghyuck did about this being the pinnacle of rich people's behavior — hosting grandiose parties in fancy houses that were bound to get trashed and smell like a gym locker room during game season by the end of it all anyway; some Great Gatsby fantasy that Johnny had. Donghyuck imagined the guy standing on the small second-floor balcony as fireworks went off behind him on the lawn and he faced his guests inside with a raised champagne glass.
With all the complaining Donghyuck did, he couldn’t have been more thankful that the dress code ended up being what it was.
So thankful, as a matter-of-factly, that Donghyuck was ready to take both of Johnny’s hands in his own and sink down to his knees in thanks.
When they’d still been back at Mark’s apartment getting ready with Mark hogging the bathroom as Jaehyun attempted to style his hair with a curling iron despite Mark’s whines that he’d rather just go as he was to not be late, Donghyuck was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor by the coffee table, holding a tiny mirror in one hand as his other one attempted to apply eyeshadow with his fingers because apparently, the Mark-Jaehyun household owned a fucking curling iron but not a single makeup brush.
Donghyuck was minding his business, humming some nameless holiday melody that he’d heard at the mall when he and Mark went last minute shopping for ties because turns out Mark didn’t own one of those either.
The bathroom door creaked open and out stepped a proud-looking Jaehyun and, behind him, a sheepish-looking Mark with his pale hair styled in neat waves above his brows, eyelids dusted a sparkly brown with eyeshadow, cheeks pink with blush (Donghyuck’s pretty sure he didn’t see blush on the array of cosmetics on the sink that Jaehyun had neatly lined up for Mark), and wearing slacks with a white dress shirt tucked neatly under the waistband, kept in place by a belt too fancy-looking for Donghyuck to assume for it to be Mark’s.
His fingers were fiddling helplessly with the tie around his neck, eyes pleading as he looked to Donghyuck for assistance and, good fucking God, Donghyuck was pretty sure he could hear the glass of the mirror crack with how hard he was clutching the handle in his hand like it was the only leverage keeping him from jumping on Mark like a pre-hormonal teenager.
Well, now, sitting on the leather couch, squeezed between two drunk and sweaty college students, Donghyuck’s glad he doesn’t have to look at Mark.
Mark, who’d discarded his suit jacket along with Donghyuck’s when the latter had mumbled about how suffocating it was in here, the beer bottle he’d just downed definitely not helping in regulating his body heat. Mark’s hand resting innocently against the swell of his ass while they surveyed the bottle labels on the kitchen countertop, not really helping either.
So now it was both of them in just their dress shirts, the sleeves rolled up and the ties loosened to allow for the few top buttons to get popped open with fingers clumsy from the buzz, and Donghyuck feels the heat of Mark’s bared skin against the side of his neck where his forearms rest on Donghyuck’s shoulders.
He downs the remnants of his beer, tilting his head back to bear his throat as he raises the bottle to throw it back in one swing.
Donghyuck pretends not to notice the way Mark’s eyelids drop, gaze heavy on Donghyuck’s Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows — for his own sake more than some willingness to play along in preserving Mark’s honor, really, because it was no secret that when it came to Donghyuck, Mark had no issue in being utterly shameless.
Last year’s Donghyuck was probably grinding his painfully hard dick against some remotely attractive stranger’s thigh right now; amongst the people moving to the music like every boom of bass sent a ripple through the crowd like something liquid, like water.
Last year’s Donghyuck was lost and blissfully unaware of the sucker punch in the name of Mark Lee that was about to come swinging through the air and hit Donghyuck square on the jaw, hard enough to bruise but not to break. Never to break.
This year’s Donghyuck sits with sweat dripping down his sides, definitely soaking through his shirt where it bunches up at his armpits, head heavy even as he reaches for another bottle of beer so generously handed to him by a stranger his age, and Donghyuck’s glad he doesn’t need to work too hard on seducing anyone tonight.
Mainly because he knows he’s done his job already, offering to sit in Mark’s lap in the back of Jaehyun’s car on their way here when their other companions for the night had complained about the small space of Jaehyun’s humble Toyota Corolla.
Really, it was for the greater good and the comfort of Renjun and Jeno who had to share three seats with Mark and Donghyuck in the back while Jaemin fumbled with the radio in the front.
It was also for the greater good that Donghyuck kept shifting in Mark’s lap as he tried and failed to get comfortable, pushing his ass back on Mark’s crotch and feeling Mark’s hands grip at the flesh of Donghyuck’s hips through his dress shirt and suit jacket.
Not all of it was his doing, though.
Jaehyun was just a really shit driver as it turns out, going over potholes and speed bumps without slowing, and jostling everyone in their seats.
It wasn’t Donghyuck’s fault that he’d bounced up in a way that made him hit his head against the roof of the car with a painful thud and come back down with his ass straight on Mark’s dick, ripping an embarrassing whimper right from Mark’s throat without his permission that shunned the whole car into silence.
Ever since stepping out of that car, Mark had stayed glued to Donghyuck’s side. Like if there was more than a two-feet distance between them, the ground would split open and tug him down into hell never to touch Donghyuck again.
And now, Mark’s nimble fingers tracing Donghyuck’s exposed collarbone aimlessly, pretending the action doesn’t make his mind reel and pretending Renjun’s not sending them poorly concealed looks of disgust from where he’s leaning with his back against the empty fireplace.
With the alcohol flooding his veins, sloshing in his empty stomach, Donghyuck will be damned if he gets hard from Mark touching his collarbone.
Donghyuck tips his head back against the headrest and looks up at Mark through hooded eyes, the hand on his skin retreating to rest on Donghyuck’s clothed shoulder again. Thankfully, he has enough sober control in him to take the reins and stop his lips from parting and letting out a displeased whine at the lack of Mark’s warm skin against his, touch burning enough that Donghyuck’s sure that if he looks down at his chest, he’ll spot indents like those from put-out cigarettes against the protruding bone.
“Wanna dance?” He asks and hums, eyelashes fluttering, when Mark runs a hand through Donghyuck’s hair, pushing his fringe back from his sweat-slicked forehead.
“You want to?” Mark leans down slightly to ask.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
And go, they do.
Donghyuck peels himself from the leather couch, from the sides of Jaemin and Jaehyun, puts the bottle on the table with a clink, and guides Mark forward by his hips to where the furniture has been pushed to the walls to make space for dancing.
He doesn’t even get to lean in close to Mark’s ear to complain about the garbage EDM music blasting through the speakers because there are fingers grabbing him by the bicep and Donghyuck turns as if in slow motion — eyelids droopy and head a tumultuous swim — finds Jungwoo there with a wicked smile and an unlit joint between his teeth, Jaehyun behind him with his dress shirt still buttoned up all the way.
“You go.” Mark says before Donghyuck even gets to turn back around, breath hot against the shell of Donghyuck’s ear.
“You sure?” Donghyuck asks anyway, shudders when Mark steps away.
“Yeah, I’ll just get something to drink.”
Jungwoo’s pulling Donghyuck by the hand towards the open balcony door leading to the porch, but Donghyuck manages to grasp Mark’s fingers in his own just before he’s guided too far out of reach.
“Come join us after.” He yells over the music.
“Or don’t!” Jaehyun shouts from ahead, hands cupped around his mouth, “you always hog the fucking joint!”
Mark flips him the bird, turning to Jaemin who’s stalking towards him like some predator from those National Geographic shows he’s favored binging over winter break, and Jaehyun just laughs — loud and booming, even over the bass.
The air, once they set foot outside, is immediate relief against Donghyuck’s heated skin and he breathes in deep to try soothing the flames licking at the insides of his lungs, exhale coming out in a puff of silver smoke.
The familiar click of a lighter and Donghyuck only turns when Jungwoo nudges his arm with his elbow and hands over the joint.
He takes a long drag and passes it over like a custom.
Jaehyun’s ready hand pinches it out of Donghyuck’s grasp between thumb and forefinger.
Neither of them speaks, clearly too up in their heads about whatever to make small talk about how it’s cold outside tonight or how crazy it is that another year has already managed to come to an end.
It must be no more than an hour until midnight, though the sky above is as pitch black as in the dead of the night, and Donghyuck’s sort of glad for the quiet. As quiet as it can get with music booming from inside right next to them, the bass strong enough that Donghyuck can still feel the cells vibrate under his skin even from here.
Or maybe it’s the weed.
Or the alcohol.
Or the fact that he’s still somehow semi-hard in his dress pants ever since he saw Mark step out of that bathroom dressed the way he currently was, now wandering around the booze table with Jaemin by his side (probably) and strangers ogling him in shameless alcohol-induced lust (undoubtedly).
For a split second Donghyuck contemplates slipping back inside and pushing through the people to get to Mark just so he can… it’s a bit muddled up in his head, but maybe like shove his tongue in Mark’s mouth in front of everyone, stake his claim, or sink to his knees on the kitchen tiles or… damn… Donghyuck didn’t even suck dick. He didn’t. Because he was bad. Oh, God, he was bad at giving blowjobs and he was depriving Mark of like the best sexual experience of one’s life because his gag reflex wasn’t on par with Donghyuck’s core values and—
Jungwoo nudges him.
Donghyuck takes the joint.
Maybe he should ask for advice.
Jungwoo gives off the vibe that he’s had a penis in his mouth more times than would let him believably pass it off as an accident, and Donghyuck was pretty sure Jaehyun had a whole boyfriend, though he never spoke about it to Donghyuck and it’s not like Donghyuck was some high ranking best friend of Jaehyun’s to be in any position to ask.
If anything, Jaehyun was a sort of concept in Donghyuck’s head more than he was an actual person — owning a car that Donghyuck now knows he sucks at driving, living in the same apartment as Mark that he seemed to spend less time at than Donghyuck was these days (he refused to draw any embarrassing conclusions from these two separate facts), and apparently being a really good cook who sorted the finished food into plastic containers in the fridge and freezer for when he inevitably disappeared at god know whose place for half a week so Mark wouldn’t be forced to live off of dollar store spicy noodles because Mark could not cook for the life of him.
Donghyuck’s parting his lips, eyelids droopy, turning to Jaehyun to ask in all seriousness if he has any tips on how to be good at deep-throating Mark’s big dick, but the universe seems to take pity on him for once because the glass door leading to the patio is sliding open, curtains fluttering in the wind, and all heads turn to stare.
And, actually, on second thought, the universe actually fucking hates his guts.
This cannot be happening.
“Oh.” Joshua says, stilling mid-step, cigarette pack just slipped out of his pocket, eyes landing on Donghyuck poignantly enough that it feels like a pinball dropping in one of those arcade machines.
“Donghyuck.” He says then, for good measure, like it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Behind him trails another guy, stumbling onto the patio with clumsy limbs, hand extended triumphantly with a lighter in his grasp, and, honestly, Donghyuck kind of wants to throw himself over the porch railing to try and see if the three-foot fall might kill him.
It’s the guy from that threesome Donghyuck had last year.
“Oh.” He says when his eyes land on Donghyuck.
The door pushes open again and onto the porch steps out Renjun with Jeno holding the door open for him, slamming it shut with enough force to be heard over the bass behind them.
“Oh, hey.” Jeno says with a half-wave Donghyuck’s way.
Like he didn’t expect for Donghyuck to be here. Like he hadn’t accompanied Renjun here who has a built in Donghyuck sensor that he can activate at will and a small antenna will extend from the top of his head from under his hair and twist around while beeping to determine Donghyuck’s exact coordinates that will get sent to Renjun’s fucking Gmail or something.
Six other guys besides Donghyuck on Johnny’s stupidly spacious porch and half of who’s dicks he’s had in his ass — what a fucking ratio. (Jeno doesn’t really count because Donghyuck had busted his load before Jeno’s dick got anywhere near his hole, but the intention was there, so Donghyuck lets himself have a satisfying equation in his head.)
Happy fucking new year.
“You guys know each other?” Jungwoo asks Donghyuck with a loose nod towards Joshua and the other guy whose name Donghyuck cannot recall in this particular moment for the life of him; if you put a gun to his head about it, he’d probably start crying.
“You.” Grits out Renjun with an accusing finger pointing in Joshua’s direction and the lines of his body literally shaking with tension.
“Me?” Joshua raises his hands in defense, laughing nervously, but he takes a step back away from Renjun and towards the railing anyway, turns to Jungwoo. Then Donghyuck. (Sneaks a glance at Renjun). Then Jaehyun and Jungwoo again.
“We knew each other in high school.” He replies.
“He’s my ex.” Donghyuck says easily just to watch the fucker squirm.
“He’s your ex?” The guy from the threesome asks Joshua, mouth agape as he takes in the sight of Donghyuck in front of him.
“Who are you?” Asks Renjun.
The guy makes a pained noise at the back of his throat. “I’m his boyfriend.”
“His boyfriend?”
Donghyuck nods along like he didn’t just get the world’s most earth-shattering news with layers and sides to the words that he could spend hours dissecting and crying over in the safe confines of his locked bedroom.
Despite what he might curse his past self about tomorrow morning, right now Donghyuck’s pretty glad for all the shit he’s consumed up until this point in the evening all of which come together to cushion the fall his heart makes to his ass so successfully that Donghyuck barely notices his shoulders having started to shake.
Jungwoo passes him the joint but Donghyuck waves a hand in dismissal, so Jungwoo just shrugs and leans forward and past Donghyuck to meet Jaehyun’s eager fingers halfway.
Damn.
Well, Donghyuck’s pretty sure his dick has deflated inside his pants at least, so that’s one good thing the universe has bestowed upon him tonight.
It’s almost as if scoring Mark as his boyfriend has somehow put Donghyuck in some impossible debt when it came to things going his way, and he’ll have to suffer half a lifetime of misfortunes and most embarrassing things imaginable just so he can even it out and enjoy all the perks of being in a relationship with Mark. That is, of course, if Mark manages to stick around for that long.
“You cold?” Jungwoo asks when he leans back against the railing on his elbows, fingers not holding anything, so he intertwines them over his stomach. “You’re shivering.”
He’s wearing slacks and a white turtleneck that sticks to all the right places that Donghyuck lets himself objectively appreciate just because he knows Mark would do the same.
And it’s not like Jungwoo has a jacket on him so Donghyuck’s not entirely sure what he intends to do if Donghyuck answers that yes, he is indeed cold because it’s winter, by the way, Jungwoo, in case you forgot about that.
“I’m fine.” Donghyuck says and watches Renjun attempt to and — in Donghyuck’s totally not subjective opinion — succeed in staring Joshua down despite being a head shorter than the guy.
“It’s winter, though, by the way.” Donghyuck ends up adding just because he can’t help himself.
Jungwoo laughs at that.
“He’s probably just horny as hell.” Jaehyun helpfully supplies around a huff of smoke and smiles down at Donghyuck, so at least he finds himself funny. “Didn’t know you had an ex, though.” He mutters, watching the other guys in front of him like a personal court jester show.
“Yeah, well.” Donghyuck inhales through his teeth, not knowing how to follow up the dramatic revelation that, yes, he too has been able to get people to stay for longer than a single night and it’s not just a Mark exclusive thing.
He looks away, not missing the way Jungwoo and Jaehyun exchange some cryptic look over Donghyuck’s head.
“Yeah, boyfriend. I’m his boyfriend.” The guy — Joshua’s boyfriend, apparently — replies unsure, and damn, he really does seem like a sweet dude. Donghyuck kind of feels bad for not remembering his name. “Are you homophobic or something?”
“I’m gay.” Renjun exasperates.
“You’re gay?” Jeno speaks up after standing still enough to pass the audition for Madame Tussauds’ new was figure collection.
Renjun regards him with a sharp look. “I literally just made out with you.”
“You made out with Jeno?” Donghyuck’s jaw drops open and the question gurgles out of his throat like the words have him in a chokehold.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t automatically make someone gay.” Jeno mumbles quietly to himself, head ducked and hands moving like he’s weighing the words in them.
“This isn’t about me.” Renjun says, not looking at Donghyuck, but the tips of his ears have gone pink, and good fucking God, there’s no way Donghyuck’s ever letting him live this down. He can’t wait to tell Jaemin.
“Who are you even?” Donghyuck hears Joshua ask after another painful minute of trying and failing to ignore the tension Renjun’s managed to meticulously curate in the all too large porch of the rich guy’s Great Gatsby house.
“I’m Donghyuck’s friend.”
“Friend?”
“Yeah, friend. You know what that is?”
Joshua turns to look past Renjun and at Donghyuck. “Why is your friend on my ass?”
Donghyuck shrugs easily and doesn’t say that he should be glad it’s not Jaemin who struggled with the concept of self-control when it came to other people more than in relation to himself.
Joshua sighs and lights his cigarette.
It’s not something Donghyuck’s busied himself thinking too much about, but he didn’t expect his first reunion with his long ago beloved ex boyfriend to unfold the way it currently was — with Renjun doing all the work in making the air unbreathable with tension, two seniors high on weed on either side of Donghyuck, and a new boyfriend by Joshua’s side who Donghyuck had convinced himself just didn’t do relationships so it’d make the truth taste less bitter on his tongue after the breakup. The truth that it really was a matter of Donghyuck simply not being on par with what Joshua wanted.
Maybe he should just throw a punch and see where things go from there.
Or maybe he should just find Mark.
Yeah…
The latter sounds like it’ll actually result in something other than Donghyuck sitting at the back of a cop car with his hands cuffed and nose broken because, despite never actually having fought the guy, Joshua strikes Donghyuck as the type to punch right back to even it out.
Donghyuck pinches the joint right from Jungwoo’s grasp and takes a quick drag before handing it back and stepping away from the railing, towards the door leading inside.
“I’m gonna go find Mark.” He announces to no one in particular.
As if it’s of any importance what he goes around doing when everyone’s mostly too out of it in one way or another to bring themselves to care.
Renjun grabs onto Donghyuck’s elbow in passing, leaning up close to whisper in his ear a secret. “Do you have a condom?” He asks.
Donghyuck pulls back to eye him curiously, but Renjun’s gaze is unwavering and there’s blush dusting the highs of his cheeks so Donghyuck decides there will be other opportunities to poke fun at him for this, so Donghyuck wordlessly slips out the condom packet and places it in Renjun’s open palm between their bodies to hide the exchange like it’s crack cocaine they’re dealing with here.
With a wiggle of his eyebrows that Donghyuck got from Jaemin, he slips back inside with his limbs heavy and smoke he hadn’t managed to exhale stuck to the curves of his lungs with how tight his chest feels when Donghyuck tries to breathe in and clear his mind of any thoughts for the rest of the night.
When he’d first got broken up with, Donghyuck spent weeks crying himself to sleep and imagining scenarios in his head where Joshua would come running back to him — ringing the doorbell to Donghyuck’s house when his mom was at home and his siblings at school, waiting to grab Donghyuck after class to explain himself and ask for forgiveness that Donghyuck would give him if only it meant things would go back to the way they were.
Sometimes in his head, it’d be Donghyuck himself who sought Joshua out to ask for an explanation, to ask for a reason other than the bitter truth that was handed to him plain and simple and digestible for the most imbecile of creatures. He was too much while simultaneously not being enough. Not ticking all the boxes while coloring over the lines of others with enough force to bleed through the paper.
Someone bumps into him and Donghyuck has an apology tumbling past his lips as if the worms in his brain are smashing away at the buttons on auto pilot which is silly, primarily, because worms don’t even have arms, so how could they press anything?
Donghyuck spots Jaemin by one of the farthest walls, leaning against the patterned wallpaper as he converses with a stranger who has his back turned to Donghyuck — taller than him, taller than Jaemin — looming over him without intending to. And Jaemin has his face tilted up, smile wide and plastered on his face with superglue with the way it never wavers, eyes sparkling as he listens to the stranger explain something excitedly, if the way his hands move between them is anything to go by.
“There you are.”
Donghyuck turns at the voice, gets his vision full of Mark as he leans in to kiss Donghyuck on the mouth.
“I didn’t see you outside.” Mark says when he pulls back, words slightly slurred, and his fingers find purchase in the jut of Donghyuck’s hips like the curve of the bone was carved specifically to fit the width and weight of Mark’s hands there. “I thought you’d run off.”
Donghyuck eyes Mark’s disheveled state. His stupidly endearing eyes that seem to have suspiciously grown twice in size after his haircut in a way that has Donghyuck wondering if maybe he’d undergone some other procedures while he was getting his hair cut and bleached. His perfectly shaped eyebrows. His pretty pink lips.
Where would I possibly go? Donghyuck thinks and surges forward to kiss him.
Mark parts his lips for Donghyuck easily like he always does and always has, and Donghyuck’s eager when it comes to what Mark’s willing to give him, so he presses closer and licks into Mark’s mouth with a muffled moan; hands coming to rest at the base of Mark’s neck and his side just an inch under his ribcage that shifts with every stuttering exhale through his nose against Donghyuck’s cheek.
There is no time and space in Donghyuck’s head to be thinking of anything but the reality of Mark so close to him. The speakers are blasting some shitty remix of an unnamable 90s song and Donghyuck runs his tongue along Mark’s teeth, licks at the roof of his mouth, slides against Mark’s tongue with his own, and presses in impossibly closer until Mark’s hip bone digs into Donghyuck’s own in a way that almost hurts.
All blood runs south at the sound Mark makes that Donghyuck swallows eagerly so no one else gets to hear, and Donghyuck’s aware of that feeling crawling back under his skin, making his cells buzz and his cock twitch in his pants.
“Want you.” Donghyuck says hot and heavy and breathless against Mark’s lips, leaning in again before Mark can grace him with an answer.
Mark forces Donghyuck away by a mere inch or two just so he can mutter in the space between them. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And Donghyuck’s kissing him again.
A mess of tangled limbs and drunken stumbling, pushing and getting pushed by strangers, but they end up at that cursed fucking place that Donghyuck used to see in his feverish dreams about Mark after their first meeting last year — dreams that had him wake up in cold sweat and dick leaking embarrassing amounts on the sheets.
It’s similar to how it was last time. Just before Halloween.
Mark opens the door. No one’s inside this time. So maybe it’s a little different, sure; for more reasons than just this.
The door slams shut when they step inside and Mark pushes Donghyuck against it with enough force to hurt if there wasn’t a careful hand cradling the back of Donghyuck’s head to soften the impact, and something about it that his foggy brain cannot put a name to right now makes Donghyuck moan into Mark’s mouth.
Eyebrows furrowed and his free hand comes up to card through Mark’s short hair, the lack of long strands to tangle his fingers in and pull when needed — something Donghyuck had forgotten he’d ever experienced, last time last year at this exact party when Mark’s hair was black like Donghyuck’s and neatly trimmed unlike Donghyuck’s long strands.
The stupid lock won’t budge and Donghyuck gives up after his third attempt because Mark presses their clothed and very much hard dicks together and Donghyuck moves the hand from the doorknob to work on unbuckling Mark’s belt with clumsy fingers.
Mark pulls back and Donghyuck chases after his mouth.
“We should stop ending up in this place.” He says and ducks down to mouth at the sharp line of Donghyuck’s jaw, just where it juts up towards his ear, hands lowering to work on unbuttoning Donghyuck’s dress pants.
“Yeah, we–fuck–” Donghyuck’s knees jerk as Mark grazes his teeth against the sensitive spot just below his left ear, steady hands holding him up by the waist.
“We really should, yeah.” Donghyuck manages to get out before Mark bites at the skin earnestly, lapping up the ache with his tongue, and every noise gets stuck halfway up Donghyuck’s throat — word, or syllable, or incoherent mumbling.
He gives up on the impossible task of undoing Mark’s borrowed belt without seeing what the hell he was doing down there, and just opts for pulling Mark more into him with sweaty hands on his lower back.
Their dicks press together again and Donghyuck keeps Mark there, bucking up when Mark presses down and feeling a whine rumble all the way inside his chest, Mark moaning, muffled against Donghyuck’s throat, tongue flat and warm against the tender skin there.
“Thankfully, it doesn’t smell.” Donghyuck mumbles with his head thrown back and tilted sideways to give Mark more access, brain cogs turning faster than the speed of his mouth’s quality filter. “Imagine if this was a public bathroom. I’d probably never want to see you again after the first time.”
Mark’s breath is hot and heavy against Donghyuck’s sweat-slicked skin and he’s pretty sure he can feel Mark smile against Donghyuck’s Adam’s apple when he says, “Lucky that I know how to pick my bathrooms then.”
Donghyuck laughs at that, but it’s cut short when Mark finally manages to undo the button and zipper of Donghyuck’s dress pants, pushing a hand below the waistband to wrap around his cock.
Mark leans in to kiss him again.
“The lock.” Donghyuck pants against his lips.
Mark makes an indecipherable noise as he licks into Donghyuck’s mouth and reaches behind him blindly to fiddle with the doorknob, groaning against Donghyuck’s parted lips as he struggles with the lock but seemingly ends up succeeding, pulling his hand back to hold Donghyuck by the hip.
The hand wrapped around Donghyuck’s cock loosens and Donghyuck stutters in a breath through his nose as Mark moves the hand to his ass.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck turns his head away when Mark prods a finger at his hole, forcing Mark’s lips to land smack wet against hiss cheek. “Not dry, you asshole.”
Mark laughs, nosing at Donghyuck’s jaw again, but he retreats his hand, pulling it out of Donghyuck’s pants completely.
“I just wanted to see your reaction.” He says and Donghyuck can hear the smile.
“You’re a pervert, you know that?” Donghyuck takes Mark by the nape and guides him up to kiss him — an alternative to tugging at Mark’s hair that he hadn’t been too happy about at first, but that was before he realized that this way he could dig his nails into the thin skin there and have Mark quiver under the touch.
“I’m not.” Mark mutters against Donghyuck’s mouth, pulls back a bit, doesn’t even wait for Donghyuck to blink his eyes open. “Bend over for me.”
Donghyuck pulls back to look at Mark with scrutiny, finds him with his cheeks flushed and lips parted and red, breathing ragged and eyes fitting all over Donghyuck’s face like he’s taking in the sight of him for the first time all over again.
“The sink again?” Donghyuck asks in disbelief.
The smile Mark breaks out in is a little sheepish; he’s huffing and bunching his shoulders up to his ears and, God, Donghyuck’s heart was already beating at the speed of a racing car in his chest but now it’s straight up crashing into a light pole and exploding with people screaming in the background.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Donghyuck makes a show of rolling his eyes but pushes at Mark’s chest to get him to back up so he can slip out from being pressed against the door and face the sink right next to it.
He’s faced with a mirror now, stained with specks of toothpaste and cracked at the very bottom left corner, and Donghyuck catches sight of himself in the glass, having to bite back a curse because he’s all messy hair and lustful eyes he can barely keep open, skin dusted pink at the cheeks and shiny with sweat under the fluorescent light of the bathroom — all of it Mark’s doing.
Donghyuck turns around, turns to Mark who’s crowding into his space and kissing him again, one hand reaching behind Donghyuck to grab at the edge of the sink like kissing him even after all this time manages to make his knees turn to jelly. Just thinking about that possibility being true makes Donghyuck’s head spin.
“Turn around.” Mark says with Donghyuck’s spit in his mouth, more breath than words, the taste of him all over his tongue.
“You’re so bossy.” Donghyuck draws back to say like his stomach isn’t doing kickflips, and backflips, and somersaults, and dousing itself in a gallon of gasoline and lighting a match.
Mark presses one last kiss to Donghyuck’s parted lips and places both hands on his sides.
“Sorry.” He says, still against Donghyuck’s mouth, and pulls back to turn Donghyuck around, definitely not sorry.
Mark shuffles behind him and Donghyuck catches a glimpse of messy blonde hair in the mirror before Mark sinks to his knees on the bathroom tiles, pulling Donghyuck’s pants along with his boxers down until they bunch around his knees, and Donghyuck has half the mind to understand what’s about to happen before he shuffles backwards with his elbows resting on the edge of the sink, because he was not about to look at himself get pushed to the edge of the world and then pulled right back in Johnny’s toothpaste stained bathroom mirror.
“Ow, dude. What the hell.” Mark mumbles as Donghyuck’s bare ass makes contact with what Donghyuck can only assume to be Mark’s face, and he accidentally steps on the expensive fabric of Mark’s dress pants when he raises his foot to steady himself and puts it on Mark’s knee instead of the tiles.
“You said bend over, dude.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t say trample me in the process, Jesus.” Donghyuck can vividly picture the way Mark’s eyes roll and his eyebrows pinch up without even having to look at his face, and a hand comes to grab at one of Donghyuck’s ass cheeks. “And don’t call me dude. That’s weird.”
“You started it.” Donghyuck pushes his ass back into Mark’s face just to hear Mark whine.
“Yeah, but it’s weird when you do it because you’re mocking me.” Mark says and pushes him back in his previous position with fingers digging into Donghyuck’s skin, nails scratching in a way that feels just right. “Plus, it doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m about to get my ass eaten in a bathroom and I don’t think that really suits me either.” Donghyuck allows himself a look over the shoulder at Mark who meets his gaze right away as if waiting for it, as if anticipating it; as if predicting it.
As if he knows Donghyuck well enough to wait for him like this and know Donghyuck will meet him halfway.
Donghyuck feels dizzy enough that he has to look away.
“Who says you’re getting your ass eaten?” Mark asks.
No answer.
Mark breathes out a laugh that Donghyuck can feel against his skin.
“You and your big mouth, Donghyuck, seriously…”
But Mark’s other hand is coming to rest at Donghyuck’s other ass cheek and he’s pulling them apart, Donghyuck registering Mark’s hot breath through the thick fog in his brain, before the wet warmth of Mark’s mouth presses against Donghyuck’s hole.
Donghyuck’s body goes taut like it’s been zapped with high enough voltage to have his heart stop and restart itself in his chest with twice the speed and force — sound deafening in his ears and thrumming rigid enough that it feels like his ribs might snap right here and now.
“For the record, I also thought we’d grown past fucking in Johnny’s bathroom. What is this, the fourth time?” Mark says, voice hoarse, when he pulls back and Donghyuck takes in the opportunity to breathe in properly. “I’m only doing this because there’s no lube.”
“Third time.” Donghyuck says, ignoring the way he sounds like he’s been running laps around the rich neighborhood Johnny lived in and then, just because he can and just because Mark’s having him too much under his control for Donghyuck to leave it without at least trying to flip it around. “You could’ve just used soap or something.”
“Right. Like that’d make it classier.”
“Lotion, then. I’m sure Johnny has some somewhere.”
Donghyuck says it without meaning anything behind it, really — empty words to fill his chest with some false sense of control that Mark somehow always manages to grasp so easily in a single palm without even trying too hard.
But then Mark’s pulling back properly, saying, “okay, if you insist.”
And Donghyuck reaches behind himself blindly, placing a hand over the one Mark still hasn’t managed to take off Donghyuck’s skin, squeezing at his fingers and letting Mark whatever he wants in that palm of his because it’s not like Mark’s been anything but careful with all and everything that Donghyuck has ever had to offer.
“No, please.” He croaks, head hung low, and he twists his torso slightly to meet Mark’s eyes. “Stay. Please.”
Mark says nothing, just squeezes at the hand Donghyuck has placed over his and raises his other one to pull at the flesh of Donghyuck’s ass and leans back in.
Mark licks up from Donghyuck’s balls to his hole, pressing his tongue flat against the entrance as he sucks on the skin lightly and Donghyuck retreats his own hand to grab at the edge of the sink until his knuckles turn white and the muscles in his forearm begin to feel like they might tear. He squeezes his eyes shut to the point that it hurts and keeps his breath trapped in his lungs like if he lets it go he might hit the ground like a popped balloon, not daring to move like the air is static and he’s one shift away from catching fire.
Mark pushes his tongue past Donghyuck’s rim, lips around his hole, and sucks in earnest.
Lewd and wet and fucking disgusting, on his knees for Donghyuck in a goddamn bathroom, but Donghyuck’s hips jerk in an attempt to pull away instinctively, legs wobbling under his weight with white speckling the blackness of his shut eyelids and trapped breath finally breaking free in the form of a choked sob.
Mark pulls Donghyuck back in place with a hand looped around both his thighs and returns it to dig into the flesh of his ass, pulling at the skin to shove his tongue back into Donghyuck’s exposed hole.
Donghyuck twitches against Mark’s mouth, pulling away like scorched with a broken moan, and Mark makes a low sort of frustrated noise at the back of his throat.
“Donghyuck,” Mark says simply, voice scratched hoarse and Donghyuck’s just a man, more precum dripping down his dick that’s painfully hard and painfully neglected against his stomach, staining his dress shirt. “Stop squirming. I can’t do anything if you keep pulling away.”
“Well, sorry, it’s not like I do it on purpose.” Donghyuck grumbles. “Dude.” He adds just to push at that button that Mark keeps swatting his nimble fingers away from.
“With you, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Donghyuck turns to peek at him at that. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Give me your hand.” Mark says simply.
“Oh, Christ, Mark. I knew you were a romantic, but holding my hand, really? That’s kind of cringe even for you—”
“Donghyuck.” Mark says and Donghyuck’s dick twitches and what the actual fuck was wrong with him. “Give me your hand.”
Donghyuck huffs and rolls his eyes but puts his hand into Mark’s upturned palm just like he’d been asked, watches through hooded eyes and labored breathing as Mark guides Donghyuck’s hand to rest flat on his ass.
“Do what I did.” Mark simply instructs and loops the hand that was just holding Donghyuck’s around both his thighs, forearm pulling Donghyuck back into Mark and keeping him there.
Good fucking God.
Happy New Year to him indeed.
“I know how rimming works.” Donghyuck mutters, but digs his fingers into the skin of his ass to pull at it for easy access for Mark.
This for Mark. That for Mark. Donghyuck might as well just tear his chest open with his bare hands and let Mark crawl inside to keep himself warm at this point.
Mark dips his tongue past Donghyuck’s rim again — as deep as it can go this time, nose pressing against Donghyuck’s skin — and he makes a satisfied hum that Donghyuck swears he feels vibrate through him when he inevitably tries flinching away from the touch but has Mark’s sturdy arm preventing him from doing so.
The lines of Donghyuck’s back are pulled taut, blood under his skin boiling and every fiber of his very core rigid like it’s in overdrive. He’s quivering in Mark’s hold, moaning softly with his head hung low and forehead resting on his forearm as Mark swirls his tongue around inside him, lips parted and sucking around Donghyuck’s rim in a way that makes him see stars and quite literally drool all over himself from all the strength having left him to keep his mouth closed.
Mark pulls back and Donghyuck doesn’t even get to whine at the loss of contact and warmth because Mark’s slipping two fingers right in to make up for the lack of tongue.
There’s shuffling and Mark rises to his feet, leaning down so his chest’s pressed against Donghyuck’s back, free hand coming to grab at the sink to keep his weight up as the fingers of his other hand slowly move in and out of Donghyuck.
“Is two okay?” Mark asks against Donghyuck’s ear and with the way his voice sounds, one would think he’d just spent letting every sound imaginable scrape the tender cords of his throat.
Donghyuck nods where his forehead’s still pressed against his forearm, eyes squeezed shut like it all might evaporate if he dares to open them, and he groans softly when Mark scissors his fingers to help with the stretch.
“Can I add the third one?”
“Yeah.” Donghyuck croaks.
Mark kisses behind his ear in response as he pushes another finger in.
At this point Mark’s done this enough times for it to border a genuine obsession with Donghyuck’s asshole, so it’s no surprise that it doesn’t take Mark any hesitation to curl his fingers just right inside Donghyuck and have him sob.
“Shh, it’s okay, I got you.” Mark mutters as Donghyuck quivers in his hold.
Mark spreads his fingers and feels for the way Donghyuck’s body tenses at the stretch so he can press his fingertips into the tiny bundle of nerves to replace the uncomfortable burn with pleasure. He keeps at it until the two opposing sensations meet some place in the middle of the scale and Donghyuck’s left jostling forward slightly with every push of Mark’s fingers deeper inside of him, shifting his head to rest his temple against his forearm to breathe properly.
Mark works Donghyuck open and presses his lips to Donghyuck’s cheek as he mutters quiet things against his skin, and Donghyuck lets him.
Mark’s saying something properly now. Or so Donghyuck thinks. There’s buzzing bugs having made home in the shells of his ears, it seems, making it hard to hear past the sound.
“Hyuck.” Mark repeats and shakes him by the hip gently. “Condom.”
“Don’t have one.” Donghyuck mumbles, words tumbling past his lips foreignly like someone tore his tongue out while Donghyuck was too busy drooling over the marble sink and replaced it with another similar one, but just a little too big.
Mark curses behind him, fingers stilling inside Donghyuck as he pulls away from Donghyuck’s back.
“What?” Donghyuck has enough sober mind in him to ask, but mainly because Mark’s no longer all up in his space.
“I didn’t bring any. I thought you’d have one.” Mark says and pulls his fingers out of Donghyuck, and the sudden emptiness has him whining as he clenches around nothing.
“Gave it to Renjun.” Donghyuck explains, chest heaving with the air he’d been deprived from while too busy moaning and groaning to think about inhaling until he began feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.
Then, in a sudden burst of undiluted delirium only fueled by the lack of Mark’s body warmth against him, and the lack of his fingers inside him, the lack of his pretty noises in Donghyuck’s ear:
“Just do it raw.”
“Shit.” Mark says at first, and then, “Are you clean?” Because, of course, he does.
Of course he’s hot and responsible and fisting his cock as he looks at the curve of Donghyuck’s spine, the dip of the small of his back as he’d arched to get Mark closer, deeper inside him.
“I haven’t tested in a while. I mean, I was clean the last time I got checked, but that was like, I don’t know, six months ago or something. And there’s no shame if you have anything, but it’d be nice if you told me just so I know, you know.”
He rambles on, and in any other context Donghyuck would maybe reluctantly admit that he finds it endearing that Mark worries about his sexual health, but right now his dick is aching from the lack of release and his back hurts from being in this position for so long, and he’s pretty sure they’re shooting the fireworks in like five minutes and Donghyuck actually kind of wanted to see them because rich people seem like they’d know how to put on a firework show, and he’d missed them last year because he was too busy in this exact position getting his brains fucked out.
“I’m clean, fuck-” Donghyuck tries pressing back against Mark’s dick. “Mark, I’m clean, I’m clean. Just want your cock, please. Want you inside me. I don’t care, just want you. Need you.”
“Jesus.” Mark’s voice breaks when he says. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Shit.”
Not even a few seconds later Donghyuck feels the tip of Mark’s cock catch at his rim — warm and wet with precum and fucking throbbing as he pushes into Donghyuck just an inch before pulling out and spitting into what Donghyuck can only assume is his hand, slicking himself up and lining himself against Donghyuck’s entrance again, and good fucking God. Donghyuck thinks there’s still time for him to actually pass out and die from this.
Not that he gets to do much more than moan embarrassingly loud as Mark pushes in again, because the doorknob to the bathroom is twisting and normally it shouldn’t be that crazy of a thing because they were, after all, at a bathroom at a party with like over a hundred people, but the door actually begins to creak open and Donghyuck’s blood runs cold.
His mind clears at once like doused in ice water and Donghyuck manages to reach one of the hands holding onto the sink for dear life to wrap around the doorknob and use every ounce of pure upper body strength to push the door back shut.
“Taken!” He yells over the music, hoping the bass drowns out the way his voice breaks around the second syllable when Mark bottoms out.
“Donghyuck?” Comes a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
It’s fucking Jaemin.
“You said you locked the door. What the fuck.” Donghyuck hisses at Mark and throws a glare over his shoulder, though he doubts it’s even the tiniest bit intimidating with how fucked out he must look by now.
“I never said I locked it. I couldn’t get the lock to budge.” Mark says, not bothering to lower his voice, and the logical part of Donghyuck’s brain knows there’s no way they can be heard from outside with how loud the music’s blasting, but the panic-driven part of him that’s currently blasting kill bill sirens through the lust in his brain is warning him of all the possible ways Jaemin could barge through this door right now and later report this happening to Renjun who will never let him nor Mark ever live this down.
He might even manage to snap a pic to threaten Donghyuck with whenever they’ll have arguments in the future and, oh God, that sounds like a nightmare which the only way out of is a gun.
“You okay?” Jaemin asks, voice a little clearer now, and Donghyuck can only assume he’s pressed close to the door in an attempt to hear and be heard better.
“I’m fine.” Donghyuck replies.
Mark pulls out and slides back in, grip on Donghyuck’s sides tight enough to bruise and Donghyuck doesn’t miss the way Mark deliberately makes sure to roll his hips when he’s nestled in deep with his cock snug against Donghyuck’s prostate just to watch him struggle to bite at his lips to keep quiet and prevent his knees from giving out.
“Can you let me in, please? I need to pee.” Jaemin whines, voice slurred, and tries twisting the doorknob again. “It’s like ten minutes til midnight. I don’t want to welcome the new year in a bathroom.”
Mark’s fallen into a steady pace by now — pulling out of Donghyuck until his tip catches at the rim and then slamming back in with just enough force to jostle Donghyuck forward with every thrust, knocking his breath straight out of his lungs with every jam at his prostate.
“I’m sick!” Donghyuck says, voice quivering in a way that makes it almost believable. “I’m throwing up. I think I drank too much.”
“You said you were fine.”
Mark wraps a hand around Donghyuck’s cock and begins pumping it in time with his thrusts, and Donghyuck, honest to god, wails loud enough for it to be heard even over the music and probably loud enough that a car crash could happen right next door and everyone in this house would hear it anyway.
“Donghyuck?”
“I’m just so sick.” Donghyuck manages to say, reaching behind himself blindly to feel for Mark’s hand just so he has something else to hold on to that’s not a fucking sink.
He makes a show of pretending to retch loudly, Mark giggling behind him like he’s not currently blowing Donghyuck’s back out.
“Geez.” Jaemin says. “You want me to get someone? Jaehyun maybe? He seems like he’d know what to do.”
“No!” Donghyuck yells out right away, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut as heat begins to coil in his belly, Mark not slowing his pace one bit. “No, I’m fine.” Donghyuck pauses to breathe. “Just have to get it out of my—” he muffles a sob into his hand, “— out of my system. I’ll be out—” a sharp inhale through his teeth. “—in a bit. Don’t worry about me.”
Silence stretches on for long enough that Donghyuck begins to think Jaemin’s left, focusing instead on the obscene squelching of every single of Mark’s thrusts, the way his dick is so warm inside Donghyuck, throbbing with his own pent up release that he’s neglecting as he tries to bring Donghyuck to his.
Donghyuck shuts his eyes and parts his lips to make way for quiet moans as he indulges in the feeling of his orgasm building up and beginning to erupt all over his body in tiny specks of stardust as Mark keeps pushing into him and fisting his cock faster to make up for the stuttering of his hips as he struggles to keep an even rhythm with how close his own release must be.
“Donghyuck?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through the muddled pleasure in Donghyuck’s brain.
His voice is irredeemably wrecked when he parts his lips to say, “Yeah?”
“Where is Mark?”
If this were any other situation, Donghyuck would laugh, but it’s not any other situation.
It’s Mark balls deep in his ass, chest pressed to Donghyuck’s clothed back, hand fisted around his cock, and lips parted against his ear to let out a stream of soft noises that let Donghyuck know just how good he’s making Mark feel in case there are still any doubts about that.
“Feel so good.” He mutters, making sure to be quiet because it’s meant only for Donghyuck and no one else. “So good for me. So good. Fuck. Donghyuck. So good, so tight.”
And Donghyuck’s coming with a broken moan that he doesn’t get to muffle into his hand with how suddenly the feeling rushes over him in a dizzying flash that has his knees giving out and him sinking to the floor if it wasn’t for Mark’s hands holding him upright.
“Oh my fucking God.” Donghyuck thinks he hears Jaemin’s horrified voice right before loud orders for everyone to go outside for the fireworks.
Mark somehow manages to catch most of Donghyuck’s cum in his palm, careful not to let it stain any of their clothes as some of it drips down onto the tiles, and Mark pulls out, reaching for a random towel hanging from the wall to wipe his hand in.
Donghyuck lets himself have a brief moment to catch his breath and the feeling to rush back into his limbs before he’s twisting around and sinking to his knees in front of Mark.
“Cum in my mouth.” He says before Mark can ask any questions.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mark mutters, looking like he might have come just from Donghyuck’s words.
“Hurry. I don’t want to spend my last minutes of this year in a fucking bathroom, either.”
“Calling me bossy.” Mark mumbles.
Donghyuck just rolls his eyes and opens his mouth up wide, tongue hanging out, and Mark curses above him again.
He doesn’t have to do much — fisting his cock once, twice — before he’s coming in thick ropes of white, with a choked moan, grabbing onto Donghyuck’s hair to try to guide his mouth to where it so eagerly wants to be.
Some of it misses Donghyuck’s mouth anyway, landing on his cheek and smearing his chin white as he swallows what did make it into his mouth, looking up at Mark through his eyelashes as he does so, enjoying the way Mark’s grip tightens in his hair and his breath gets trapped in his chest.
They get dressed in a flurry, Mark doing the buttons of Donghyuck’s dress pants while Donghyuck attempts to fix Mark’s tie with fingers that still feel like they have jelly in place of bone under the skin.
But they make it out of the bathroom while there’s still some people inside, and, sure they might look like they’d just each survived their own ends of the worlds respectively, but at least the last minutes of this year won’t be spent in that some bathroom that least year’s were, so this way things are bound to unfold differently if they’re already begun differently.
Mark grabs him by the hand as he leads them both outside to the ridiculously spacious backyard with a fucking pool in the middle of it, and he tries looking around for a familiar face amongst the people, but the countdown starts out loud and he gives up halfway to turn to Donghyuck and press in close.
“Happy New Year.” He says, all smiley and blushing and looking at Donghyuck with his own little set of stars in his eyes, and, God, Donghyuck likes him so much.
“It’s not New Year yet.” Donghyuck retorts.
The countdown’s reached the last 10.
“I know, but I wanted to be the first one to say it.”
“You’re so lame. It doesn’t count because it doesn’t mean anything yet. You have to wait.”
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
Three.
Two.
One.
Donghyuck opens his mouth to be the first one to say it, but Mark leans in to kiss him instead.
The people around cheer and the loud whistle of a rocket going off cuts through the laughter and the cheer, exploding into a flash of light against the pitch black midnight sky.
Mark cradles Donghyuck’s face in his hands as if to keep his cheeks tucked away from the cold, his own hands coming to wrap around Mark’s wrists, and Donghyuck decides he’s seen and will see enough fireworks in his life, but he’s never quite going to have Mark like this ever again.